Ryan Reynolds (10:24)
Word of the Dakota attack spread, and panic swept through the Minnesota frontier. Settlers in nearby farms and towns realized the violence was not contained to the agency. It was spilling out across the prairie. Families scattered in every direction. Some headed for the relative safety of Fort Ridgely, the nearest army outpost, which was about 15 miles away. Others tried to disappear into the woods or hide in makeshift shelters. One of the first families to flee was that of James and Sarah Dickinson, who lived on a farm a few miles from the agency. The Dickinson family had heard rumors of unrest among the Dakota, but they had never imagined it would reach their doorstep so quickly. As soon as James heard the first gunshots in the distance, he knew they had no time to waste. He ran into the house and urged Sarah to gather their children and whatever supplies they could carry. The sounds of gunfire grew louder as they scrambled to load a small cart with food and blankets. With their two young children in tow, they hurried toward Fort Ridgely. They had to cover about 15 miles, and the journey was perilous. As they fled, the Dickinson family encountered other settlers on the road, all heading in the same direction. Some were on foot, while others were driving wagons piled high with whatever they could salvage. Fear hung in the air, every sound a twig Snapping. The distant cries of animals seemed to carry the threat of the approaching Dakota warriors. James and Sarah urged their horses forward, praying they would reach the fort before it was too late. For some on the road, it already was. Along the way, they passed the wreckage of a wagon in a ditch. Its contents were scattered across the road, and the bodies of a family lay nearby. James snapped the reins, and the Dickinson family raced toward Fort Ridgely. Reverend Samuel Hinman, a missionary at the Lower Sioux Agency, had been among those who narrowly escaped the initial attack. As the violence erupted around him, he fled in a buggy toward the Minnesota river, which was only a couple hundred yards from the agency. The main crossing was called Redwood Ferry, where the reverend hoped to jump on a barge to cross the river to safety. On the way, he encountered Little Crow himself. The two men had known each other for years, and Hinman asked in desperation, crow, what does this mean? Little Crow said, nothing, and his silence was answer enough. Reverend Hinman spurred his horse and buggy onward and crossed the river. Just moments before the Dakota warriors reached the ferry, settler Thomas Ireland was warned by a neighbor that the Dakota were on the warpath. Thomas gathered his family, and they fled their homestead. But at a nearby lake, Dakota warriors surrounded the Ireland family and a small group of settlers. A warrior named Lean Bear taunted Ireland to shoot, and when Ireland did, Leanbear fell dead. The other warriors returned fire and shot Thomas Ireland seven times. The warriors moved on and left Ireland for dead, but he didn't die. He dragged himself 20 miles to a place he called Dutch Charlies in Cottonwood County. Thomas Ireland would not learn the fate of his wife and his daughters for several days. George Spencer, a clerk at the William Forbes trading store, had been wounded in the initial attack on the agency, but his life had been spared by a Dakota warrior who declared Spencer under his protection. Like the Dickinson family and many others, George Spencer hurried toward fort Ridgely, about 15 miles from the Lower Sioux Agency. At the fort, Captain John Marsh, Commander Company B, 5th Minnesota Infantry Regiment, had just received word of the Dakota attack on the agency when a breathless survivor stumbled into the fort, telling horror stories of burning homes and slaughtered settlers. Before long, thick columns of smoke could be seen in the distance, and Marsh knew that he and his men were going into battle. The long roll of the drum summoned the garrison to arms. Men scrambled into formation, and Marsh gathered 46 soldiers of Company B, along with Peter Quinn, his trusted interpreter. Marsh was a veteran of the first Battle of Bull Run, and he believed his men could handle whatever lay Ahead, the road from Fort Ridgely to the lower Sioux agency ran straight to Redwood Ferry over the Minnesota River. The ferry crossing had already seen significant bloodshed during the initial attack, as settlers fled from the warriors, and Marsh was determined to reach the ferry and intercept the Dakota warriors. The company marched out of the fort and onto the familiar dirt road that led to the ferry crossing. After a strenuous march, the column approached Redwood Ferry, and the landscape seemed deceptively calm. The road, framed by thick woods and rolling hills, gave no hint of the danger lurking ahead. Marsh's men marched with cautious optimism, unaware that they were walking into a trap on the far shore of the river. Standing beside the ferry landing, the soldiers spotted White Dog, a Dakota leader. He stood with a small group of women and children, a traditional mark that could signify preparation for battle or council. His stance was calm as he watched Marsh's approaching company. The presence of the women and children gave Marsh hope that the Dakota leader wanted to talk rather than fight. Marsh, accompanied by interpreter Peter Quinn, stepped forward to begin a parley with White Dog. As they talked across the river, Quinn translated, and Marsh conveyed a desire for peace. White Dog listened, but his expression was unreadable. After a moment, he extended an invitation for Marsh and his men to cross the river and meet in council. Marsh hesitated for a moment, but he agreed to take the chance. Marsh signaled for his men to move up to the ferry and cross the river. The soldiers were wary and kept their rifles at the river ready, but they followed orders. Most or all of the soldiers crossed the river, and then everything changed. A single shot rang out from the brush. Another quickly followed, and in an instant, the scene exploded into chaos. From the thick undergrowth along the riverbank, dozens of Dakota warriors opened fire. The ferry landing, once seemingly peaceful, became a death trap. Peter Quinn, the interpreter, was one of the first to fall. A bullet cut him down in the opening volley. Marsh's men were completely exposed and scrambled for cover, but there was nowhere to hide. The Dakota, well hidden and well armed, rained fire from all directions. The soldiers tried to return fire, but panic set in. Marsh shouted instructions, but his voice was barely audible over the deafening gunfire. He ordered a retreat as the Dakota forces closed in. But the superior positions of the warriors made it nearly impossible for the soldiers to escape. Some of Marsh's men fell where they stood during the relentless barrage of bullets. Others realized the only chance for survival was to dive into the river and swim back to the side that led to Fort Ridgely. Marsh screamed at his men to get into the water and he dove in with them. Marsh plunged into the cool waters of the Minnesota river and started to cut through the current. But the chaos and exhaustion took their toll. Halfway across the river, Marsh's muscles seized with a sudden cramp. His body, already weakened from the stress of battle, betrayed him. His head slipped beneath the water's surface and despite his attempts to stay afloat, Captain John Marsh drowned. His final moments went unseen by most of his men. On the riverbank, Sergeant John Bishop, now the highest ranking survivor, took command. He quickly gathered the remaining soldiers and led them back through the smoke and gunfire toward Fort Ridgely. The survivors now had to travel nearly 15 miles back down the road to the fort. Some of the Dakota crossed the river and continued to fire, determined to finish what they had started. Mile after mile, soldiers fell from exhaustion or battle wounds. Bishop's leadership was the only thing that held the remaining survivors together. Of the 48 men who had marched confidently toward Redwood Ferry that day, only 24 made it back alive. As the survivors stumbled back through the gates of Fort Ridgely, they and the soldiers who had remained behind realized the vulnerability of their position. Fort Ridgely wasn't actually a fort the way people would picture one when they heard the name. But it would have to become one quickly, because the Dakota were coming. It is Ryan Seacrest here. 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In turn, Gere relied heavily on Sergeant John Bishop, who had rallied the survivors at Redwood Ferry and guided them home. Now the older sergeant and the younger lieutenant looked at the fort's defenses and saw how woefully inadequate they were. The fort had been hastily constructed as more of a supply depot than a military stronghold. It had no stockade walls, no trenches, and no formal fortifications. The layout was open, with wood buildings and stone buildings scattered across a wide area, leaving them exposed from nearly every direction. The only real defenses were three cannon positioned strategically inside the fort. As dusk fell on August 18, 1862, the first day of the war, civilians began to pour into Fort Ridgely from the surrounding countryside. The Dickinson family, James and Sarah and their two children were some of the lucky ones who made it to the fort. George Spencer, the store clerk who had been protected by a Dakota warrior, made it to the fort dazed and bloodied but alive. Mothers clutched their children while fathers and young boys dragged what few belongings they could carry. Some had lost everything homes, livestock, and even family members. Each new arrival added to the growing sense of desperation. But now everyone needed to pitch in to protect the fort. Lt. Gere ordered the soldiers to begin reinforcing the compound as best they could. Soldiers and settlers, men and women alike, gathered wooden crates, barrels, wagons, and anything else they could find to create makeshift barricades. They fortified the windows of the stone buildings with sandbags and lined up every musket and hunting rifle for every soldier and civilian who could fight. Supplies were low, particularly ammunition. The soldiers and settlers rationed their gunpowder and musket balls carefully, knowing that every shot would count when the time came. Food and medical supplies were also scarce, and the wounded men from the ambush still needed care. The atmosphere inside the fort became one of grim determination. Retreat was not an option. Fort Ridgely was the only refuge for miles, and everyone knew that if the Dakota breached the fort, there would be no quarter given. Outside the fort, the Dakota forces were gathering under the leadership of Little Crow. The warriors prepared for the next stage of the campaign. Fort Ridgely represented a strategic target, the last military post standing between the Dakota and full control of the region. Taking it would deal a crippling blow to the US Military in the area and allow the Dakota to continue their push to reclaim their land. The warriors were eager to strike, but they would have to wait. As night fell, Lt. Gere stood on the fort's open ground and listened to the distant sounds of the Dakota war drums. He looked at the makeshift barricades, the weary soldiers, and the frightened settlers. The soldiers, though exhausted and outnumbered, were prepared to fight. The civilians, some of whom had never before held a weapon, stood alongside them, ready to defend their families. Everyone knew that the attack could come at any moment. The Dakota were out there in the darkness, and when they came, the defenders would have no choice but to hold the line. But the Attack did not happen that night, nor did it happen the next day, August 19th. Likely to the surprise of the defenders at Fort Ridgely, what did happen was the first attack on the town of New Ulm, about 15 miles beyond Fort Ridgely. For the next four days, the war would alternate back and forth between the town and the fort. New Ulm, Minnesota, stood as a beacon of a settlement on the edge of the Minnesota river Valley. By August 1862, the town of 900 residents was the largest settlement near the Dakota reservation. New Ulm was 30 miles from the Lower Sioux agency, and Fort Ridgely was the halfway point on a straight line between the town and the reservation. Sheriff Charles Roos, Judge Charles Flandrau, and local military organizer Jacob Nix led the defensive effort. The citizens erected crude barricades to block entry into the town, and they had to hope it would be enough. At about noon on August 19, the first assault on New Ulm began. From the wooded area above New Ulm, about 100 Dakota warriors opened fire. Under Nix's command, a hastily assembled militia of about 50 men armed with shotguns and rifles fired back. The warriors and the militiamen exchanged fire throughout the early afternoon as the warriors slowly advanced on the town. The defenders fought bravely, but their lack of training and poor quality weapons made it difficult to repel the attackers. Fortunately for the settlers, a sudden thunderstorm rolled in and forced the Dakota to retreat in a torrential downpour. Six settlers had been killed and five were wounded, but the town had survived, at least for the moment. The next morning, August 20, 1862, while the townspeople of New Ulm regrouped after surviving the first attack, the defense of Fort Ridgely began from the west. The horizon darkened with the approach of nearly 400 warriors led by little crowd. Their numbers were overwhelming, and they moved swiftly toward the fort. They screamed their war cries, and the defenders knew the battle had started in the fort. Soldiers scrambled to man the three cannons at the outpost. The civilians grabbed muskets, hunting rifles, axes and knives, anything that could be used as a weapon. Many had never faced a battle of any kind, but they had no choice now. Fort Ridgely was the only thing standing between the Dakota and complete control of the region. Sergeant John Bishop, who had survived the ambush at Redwood ferry, worked alongside Lt. Geer to deploy the artillery to cover as much of the fort's exposed perimeter as possible. The fort's layout, with its open spaces and lack of stockade walls, made it easy for the Dakota to approach from multiple directions. Ravines and hills surrounding the fort gave the Attackers natural cover and allowed them to get dangerously close before the defenders could fire. In short, Fort Ridgely was one of the least defensible forts imaginable. The first wave of Dakota warriors came from the west, charging down the slopes with alarming speed. Arrows and musket fire rained down on the fort as the Dakota advanced. Warriors darted between rocks and trees, using the terrain to their advantage. Inside the fort, the defenders could clearly see them now, hundreds of warriors with their faces painted and their weapons raised. The soldiers fired their muskets in quick, desperate bursts, but the Dakota kept coming, closing the distance with terrifying precision. Sergeant Bishop barked orders to the artillery crews, and the cannons roared to life. The sound of the first volley echoed across the valley as canister shots tore through the advancing ranks, scattering bodies and forcing the warriors to momentarily retreat. The howitzers, loaded with iron shrapnel, were devastating, but they took time to reload, and time was something the defenders did not have. Lieutenant Geer, though young and inexperienced, moved quickly to reinforce the weak points along the fort's perimeter. He ordered soldiers and settlers to spread out and fill the gaps in the defenses and to ensure the Dakota didn't breach the fort's interior. Women and children who had taken shelter in the stone buildings and clutched knives and other weapons for defense could hear the battle raging outside. And outside, the Dakota were relentless. They regrouped after the first cannon barrage and launched a second assault, this time from the north and the east. The warriors pressed forward, using the COVID of the ravines to get close enough for hand to hand combat. Inside the fort, the defenders reloaded muskets and cannons and readied their axes, knives, and even farming tools to defend the outpost. As the battle continued, the Dakota attempted to breach the fort's outer buildings, hoping to use them as cover from the cannons. Cannons. At one point, a group of warriors managed to reach one of the fort's smaller structures and set it on fire in an attempt to flush out the defenders. Despite the chaos, the defenders held their ground. Sergeant Bishop moved from one cannon position to the next and directed the artillery fire with precision. All day, the battle ebbed and flowed. The Dakota attacked in waves, and each assault thinned the ranks of the defenders. The heat of the day combined with the stress of battle took its toll on the soldiers and the settlers. Ammunition ran low, and exhaustion set in. As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the Dakota launched a final, desperate charge. From the COVID of the hills, they stormed the fort again. But the defenders fired one last volley from the cannons. The shower of shrapnel tore through the advancing warriors. The Dakota realized they wouldn't break through the fort's defenses that day, and they finally pulled back. By the time the sun set, the sounds of battle had faded into silence. Fort Ridgely was in shambles. Buildings were damaged and scorched by fire, and the bodies of the dead lay where they fell. Casualties were heavy on both sides, but the fort still stood. It was an important victory, but not a final victory. As night fell, the defenders knew that the battle was far from over. The Dakota would return, likely stronger and more determined. Two days later. Next time on Legends of the Old West. The Dakota launch multiple attacks on multiple targets. While the defenders at Fort Ridgely await the inevitable. A war party attacks the town of New Ulm. While the townspeople at New Ulm regroup after the assault, the defenders at Fort Ridgely receive their second taste of battle. Back and forth it goes. In the third week of August, 1862. That's next week on Legends of the Old West. Members of our Black Barrel program don't have to wait week to week to receive new episodes. They receive the entire season to binge all at once with no commercials. And they also receive exclusive bonus episodes. Sign up now through the link in the show notes or on our website blackberrymedia.com memberships are just $5 per month. This series was researched and written by Matthew Kearns. Original music by Rob Valiere. I'm your host and producer, Chris Wimmer. Thanks for listening.
