Among the Sioux : a story of the Twin Cities and the two Dakotas

by Creswell, R. J. (Robert J. )

  In 1863, these Indians were transferred to Davenport, Towa, where thev were confined in prison for three years. In 1866 they were released by the government and returned to their native prairies, where they then became the nuclei of other churches, other Sabbath schools and other church organizations; and so these formerly savage Sioux became a benediction rather than a terror to their neighbors on the plains of the Dakotas. The church of the prison-pen became tile |)roiifi(: mother of churches.

  While these events were transpiring in the prison-pen at Mankato, a similar work of grace was also in progress in the prison camp at Fort Snelling, where fifteen hundred men, women and children, mainly the families of the Mankato prisoners, were confined under guard. The conditions, in both places, were very similar. In the camp as well as in the prison, thev

  Avero in g'rave troubles and great anxieties. In their clistr^>>es they called mightily upon the Lord. Here John, the Beloved (John P. Williamson D.D.) ministered to their temporal and spiritual wants. The Lord heard and answered their burning and agonizing cries. By gradual steps, but with overwhelming power came the heavenly visitation. Many were convicted; confessions and professions were made; idols reverenced lor many generations were thrown away by the score. More than one hundred and twenty were baptized and organized into a Presbyterian church, which, after 3'ears of bitter wandering, was united with the church of the Prison Pen and formed the large congregation of the Pilgrim church.

  Thus all that winter long, '62-3, there was in progress within the rude walls of those terrible prison-pens at Mankato, one of the most wonderful revivals since the day of Pentecost. And in February, '63, Dr. Williamson and Rev. Gideon H. Pond spent a week in special services amongst them.

  The most careful examinations possible were made into their individual spiritual condition and the most faithful instruction given them as to their Christian duties ; then those Indian warriors were all baptized, received into the communion of the church and org'an-izeci into a Presbyterian church within the walls of the stockade; three hundred in a day! Truly impressive was

  THE BAPTISMAL SCENE.

  The conditions of baptism were made very plain to the prisoners and it was offered to onh' such as were

  AMONG THE SIOUX.

  willing to comply fully with those conditions. AH were forbidden to receive the rite, who did not do it lieartily to the God of Heaven, whose eye penetrated each of their iiearts. All, by an apparently hearty response, indicated their desire to receive the rite on the croflfered conditions. As soon as the arrangements were completed, the}- came forward one by one, as their names were called and were baptized into the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, while each subject stood with the right hand raised and head bowed and many of them with their eyes closed with an appearance of profound reverence. As each came forward to be baptized one of the ministers addressed to him in a low voice a few appropriate words. This was the sr.bstance of these personal addresses. ''My brother, this is a mark of God, which is placed upon you. You will carry it with you while you live. It introduces you into the great family of God who looks down from heaven, not upon your head but into your heart. This ends your superstition, and from this time you are to call God your Father. Rem'ember to hono^ Him. Be resolved to do His will." Each one responded heartily, ''Yes, I will."

  Gideon H. Pond then addressed them collectively.

  "Hitherto I have addressed you as friends; now I call you brethren. For years we have contended together on this subject of religion; now our contentions cease. We have one Father, we are one family. I shall soon leave you and shall probably see your faces no more in this world. Your adherence to the medicine sack and the Natawe (consecrated war weapons)

  have brought you to your ruin. The Lord Jesus Christ can save you. Seek him with all your heart. He looks not upon your heads nor on your lips but into your bosoms. Brothers, I will make use of a term of brothtrh salutation, to which you have been accustomed to your medicine dances and say to you: *' 'Brethren I spread my hands over you and bless you.' " Three hundred voices responded heartily^ '* *Amen, vea and Amen.' "

  Chapter V.

  It was 1884. Fifty years since the coming of the Pond brothers to Fort Snelhng—twenty-one years since the organization of the church in the prison-pen at Mankato, One bright September day, from the heights of Sisselon, South Dakota, a strangely beautiful scene was spread out before the eye. In the distance the waters of Lake Traverse (source of the Red River of the North), and Big Stone Lake (head waters of the Minnesota), glistened in the bright sunshine, their waters almost commingling ere they began their diverse journeyings—the former to Hudson's Bay,, the latter to the Gulf of Mexico. At our feet were prairies rich as the garden of the Lord. The spot was lyak-aptapte, that is the Ascension. Half-way up was a large wooden building, nestling in a grasy cove. Round about on the hillsides were white teepees. Dusky fonns wa^re passing to and fro and pressing round the doors and windows. We descended and found ourselves in the midst of a throng of Sioux Indians. Instinctively we asked ourselves, Why are they here? Is this one of their old papan festivals? Or is it a council of war? We entered. The spacious house was densely packerl; v/e pressed our way to the front. Hark! They are singing. We could not understand the words, but the air w^as familiar. It was Bishop Heber's hymn (in the Indian tongue) :

  "From Greenlands icy mountains, From India's coral strand.

  * i' :!=

  Salvation ! O Salvation !

  The joytul sound proclaim, Till each remotest nation

  Has learned Messiah's Name. Waft, waft, ye winds. His story, And you, ye waters, roll. Till like a sea of glory

  It spreads from pole to pole."

  With what joyful emphasis, this strange congregation sang these words.

  We breathed easier. This was no pagan festival, no savage council of war. It was the fifteenth grand annual council of the Dakota Christian Indians of the Northwest.

  The singing was no weaklunged performance—not altogether harmonious, but vastly sweeter than a war-whoop ; certainly hearty and sincere and doubtless an acceptable offering of praise. The Rev. John Baptiste Renville was the preacher. His theme was Ezekiel's vision of the 'alley of Dry Bones. We did not knew how he handled his subject. But the ready utterance, the sweet flov/ of words, the simple earnestness of the speaker and the fixed attention of the audience marked it as a complete success. When the sermon was finished, there was another loud-voiced hymn and then the Council of Days was declared duly opened.

  Thus they gather themselves together, year by year

  to take counsel in reference to the things of the kingdom. The Indian moderator, Artemas Ehnamane. the Santee j-astor, was a famons paddle-man, a mighty linnter and the son of a great conjnror and war-prophet, but withal a tender, faithfnl, spiritual pastor of his people. Rev. Alfred L. Riggs, D.D.. the white mod-eratCJt, who talked so glibly alternately in Sioux and English and smiled so sweetly in both languages at once, was "Good Bird," one of the first white babes born at Lac-qui-Parle. John, The Beloved, one of the chief white workers, as a boy had the site of Minneapolis and St. Paul for a play-ground, and the little Indian lads for his playmates. That week we spent at lyakaptapte was a series of rich, rare treats. We listened to the theological class of young men. students of Santee and Sisseton. We watched the smiling faces of the women as they bowed in ])rayer, and brought their offerings to the missionary meetings. Such wondrous liberality those dark-faced sisters displayed. We marked with wonder the intense interest manifested hour by hour by all classes in the sermons, addresses, and especially in the discussion: "How^ shall we build up the church?" Elder David Grey Cloud said, "We uiust care for the church if we would make it effective. We must care for all we gather into the church." The Rev. James Red-Wing added, "The work of the church is heavy. When a Red River cart sticks in the mud we call all the help we can and together we lift ii out; we must all lift the heavy load of the church.'' The

  Rev. David Grey Cloiul closed with: "We nnisjt c
asi out all enmity, have love for one another and then we shall be strong.''

  "Does the keeping of Dakota customs benefit or injure the Dakota People?"

  Deacon Boy-that-walks-on-the-water responded emphatically. '*The ancient Dakota customs are all bad. There is no good in them. They are all sin, all sorrow. All medicine men are frauds. Jesus is the only one to hold to." Rev. Little-Iron-Thunder said "When I was a boy I was taught the sacred dances and all the mysteries; to shoot with the bag; to hold the sacred shell. To gain a name, the Dakotas will suffer hunger, cold, even death. But all this is a cheat, it will not give life to the people. Only one name wil. give life,—even Jesus." Rev. Daniel Renville declared : "Faith is the thing our people need; not faith in everything, but faith in Christ; not for hope of reward.''

  There were evening gatherings in the interest of tin-Young Men's Christian Associations and the Yount People's Christian Endeavor Societies. These are two of the most hopeful features of the work. With the young men and maidens of the tribe in careful training in Christian knowledge and for Christian service, there must be far-reaching and permanent beneficent results.

  Sabbath came! A glorious day! A fitting crown of glory for a week of such rare surprises. A strange chanting voice, like that of a herald mingled with our

  day-break dreams. Had we been among the Moslems^ we shoiild have thc)Ui>ht it the muezzin's cry. It was all Indian to us, but it was indeed a call to prayer with this translation in English:—

  ''Morning is coming"! Morning is coming! Wake up! Wake up! Come to sing! Come to pray."

  Very soon, the sweet music of prayer and pr.iise from the v.liitc teepees on the hillside, rose sweetly on the air, telling us that the day of their glad solemnities had 1:)Cgun. The great congregation assembled in the open air. Pastor Renville, who as a little lad played at the feet of the translators of the Bible into the Sioux language, and who as a young man organized a counter revolution among- the Christian Indians in favor of the government in the terrible days of '62, presided with dignity, baptizing a little babe and receiving several recent converts into the church. , man of rare powers and sweet temperament is the Rev. John Ba])-tiste Renville, youngest son of the famous Joseph Renville. A wonderfully strange gathering is this. Hundreds of Indians seaited in semi-circles on the grass, reverently observing the Lord's Supper. Probablv one-third of the males in that assemblage were participants in the bloody wars of the Sioux nation. The sermon was delivered by Solomon His-Own-Grand-father, who had taken an active part in the war of 1862, but was now a missionary among his own people in Manitoba. The bread was broken by Artemas F.h-namane (''Walking Along"), who was condemned and pardoned, and then converted after that appalling tragedv in 1862. The wine was poured by the man

  whom all the Sioux lovingly call John (Dr. John P. AVilliamson) who led them in the burning revival scenes in the prison-camp at Fort Snelling in 1863. -And as he referred to those thrilling times, their tears flowed like rain. It is said that Indians cannot weep, but scores of them we])t that day at Ascension. One of the officiating elders was a son of the notorious chieftain IJttlc Crow, who was so ])rominent against the Anglo-Saxons in those days of carnage. As we partook of those visible symbols of our Saviour's broken body, and shed blood, with this peculiar congrga-tion, so recently accustomed to the war-whoojj and the scalp-dance, we freely mingled our tears with theirs. And as our minds ranged over the vast Dakota field anrl as we remembered the thousands of Christian Sioux, their Presbytery and their Association, their scores of churches and their many Sabbath Schools, dieir Y. M. C. A. and their Y. P. S. C. E. associations, their missionary societies and other beneficent organizations, their farms and homes, their present pure, happy condiiion, and contrasted it with their former superstition, nnkedness and filthy teeoee lit*'-, \q sang jo} fully;

  Pcho;-:! W h'lt wondrous works

  iTave, b- the Lord, b'-en wrought; Behold ! What precious souls

  Have, by His blood, been bought.

  .'s ibc hades of evening 'Ire", on, liie different bard* ii'.'kl their farewell meetings in their teepees. There were sounds of sweet music—jovous ones—ech-

  oing and re-echoing over the prairies—"He leadeth me, r^h i-rcv^ions thought/' "Nearer, nv/ God to thee," "Blessed Assurance, Jesus hath given"—until the wlicle ^ii- blended in one gran.I retrain:— "Blest be the tii* that l.'nds

  Oiu- hearts .n Cliristiin love; The fellowship of Christian minds Is like to that above." The Council Tent was in darkness! The lights were out in the teepees. The whole camp was wrapped in solid slumber. And as we sunk to rest in our bed of new-mown hay, we breathed a pra3^er for the slumbering Sioux around us; May the Cloud, by day, and the Pillar of Fire, by night, guide the Sioux Nation through the Red Sea of Savagery, superstition and sin to the Promised Land of Christian Civiliza-tic'U.

  The Native Missionary Society. It is well worth a journey to the land of the Dako-tas to witness an anniversary gathering of their Woman's Misssionary Society. You enter the great Council Tent. It is thronged with these nut-brown women of the plains. A matronly woman welcomes you, and presides with grace and dignity. A bright and beautiful young maiden—a graduate of Santee or Good Will—controls the organ and sweetly leads the service of song. And oh how they do sing! You cannot understand the words, but the airs are familiar. Now it is Bishop Coxe's "Latter Day" sung with vim in the Indian tongue;

  • ''We are living, we are dwelling,

  In a grand and awful time;

  In an age on ages telling,

  To be living is sublime." And now some sedate matron rises and reads a carefully written paper, contrasting their past, vile teepee life of ignoble servitude to Satan, with their present, pure life of glorious liberty in the. Lord Jesus Christ. And then they sing, so earnestly for they are thinking of their pagan sisters of the wild tribes, sitting in darkness and the shadow of death, in the reeions bevond. The hymn is Draper's ''Missionary Chant."

  "Ye Christian heralds, go proclaim

  Salvation through Emmanuel's name;

  To distant lands the tidings bear

  And plant the Rose of Sharon there." And now a lively young lass, neatly attired, comes forward and with a fine, clear accent, recites a poem 01 hope, touching the bright future of their tribe, when tbe present generation of young men and maidens, nourished in Christian homes, educated in Christian schools and trained in the Young People's societies for efficient service, shall control their tribe, and move the great masses of their people upward and God-ward, and elevate the Sioux Nation to a lofty plane of Christian civilization and culture; and enable them to display to the world the rich fruition of Christian service. And, by request, their voices ring out in song these thrilling words;

  aC among the SIOUX.

  "Watchman, tell us of the night, For the morning seems to dawn; Traveller, darkness takes its flight, Doubt and terror are withdrawn. Watchman, let thy wanderings cease; Hie thee, to thy quiet home; Traveller, lo, the Prince of Peace, Lo, the Son of God is come!"

  Fervent prayers are frequently interspersed in these exercises. And oh, what wondrous liberality these dark-skinned sisters of the Dakota plains display!

  How full their hands are with rich gifts, gleaned out of their poverty for the treasury of their Saviour-ving. For many years, the average annual contribu-icns per capita to missoins, by these Sioux sisters, nave fully measured up to the standard of tlieir more lighly favored Anglo-Saxon sisters of the wealthy Presbyterian and Congregational denominations,of which they form a humble part.

  Chapter VI.

  It was 1905. From the heights of Sisseton, South Dakota, another striking scene met the eye. The great triajigiilar Sisseton reserve of one million acres no longer exists. Three hundred thousand of its choicest acres are now held in severalty by the fifteen hundred members of the Sisseton and Wahpetou Band of the Dakotas—the '"Leaf Dwellers" of the plains. Their homes, their schools, their churches cover the prairies. That spire pointing heavenward rises from Good Will Church, a commodio
us, well-furnished edifice, with windows of stained glass. Within its walls, there worship on the Sabbath, scores of dusky Presbyterian Christians. The pastor, the Rev. Charles Crawford, in whose veins there flows the mingled blood of the shrewd Scotch fur trader and the savage Sioux, lives in that comfortable farm house a few rods distant. He has a pastorate that many a white minister might covet. Miles to the west, still stands in its grassy cove on the coteaux of the prairie, the Church of the Ascension, referring not to the ascension of our Lord, but to "the going up" of the prairies. On the hill a-bovc it, is the cozy home of the pastor emeritus, the the Rev. John Raptiste Renville, whose pastorate, in point of continuous service, has been the longest in the two Dakotas. After a long lifetime of faithful ministrations to the people of his own charge, enfeebled by age and disease, he sweetly fell asleep in Jesus, Dec.

  19, 1904. Doubtless his is a starry crown, richly gemmed, in token of the multitude of the souls of his fellow tribesmen, led to the Savior by his tender, faithful ministry of a life-time in their midst. Round about these two churches cluster half a dozen other congregations, worshipping in comfortable church homes. These form only a part of the

  PRESBYTERY OF DAKOTA.

  The original Presbytery of Dakota was organized September 30, 1844, at the mission Home of Dr. Williamson, at L.ac-qui-Parle, Minnesota. It was organized, by the missionaries, among the Dakotas, for the furtherance of their peculiar work. The charter members were three ministers, the Rev. Samuel W. Pond, Rev. Thomas S. Williamson, M.D., and Rev. Stephen R. Riggs and one elder Alexander G. Huggins. It was an independent presbytery, and, for fourteen years, was not connected wdth any Synod. It was a lone presbytery, in a vast region, now covered by a dozen Synods and scores of presbyteries. For many years, the white and Indian churches that were organized in Minnesota, were united in this presbytery and wrought harmoniously together. In 1858, the General Assembly of Presbyterian churches (N. S.) invited this independent presbytery to unite with her two Minnesota Presbyteries and form the Synod of Minnesota which was accomplished.