Old Rail Fence Corners | Page 2

E. C. Chatfield Mrs. S. R. Van Sant Miss Beatrice Longfellow Miss Rita Kelly Mrs. F. W. Little Mrs. O. H. Shepley Mrs. Alonzo Phillips Mrs. Guy Maxwell Miss Marion Moir Mrs. E. A. Welch Miss Ida Wing Mrs. Mary E. Partridge Mrs. Ell Torrance Miss Stella Cole Mrs. C. A. Bierman Mrs. Chas. Keith Miss Emily Brown Mrs. G. C. Lyman Mrs. A. B. Kaercher Mrs. W. S. Woodbridge Miss K. Maude Clum

The Reason
When I was a child my grandmother, Lucy Leavenworth Sherwood, used to show us a little map drawn on the back of a cotillion invitation, by her cousin Henry Leavenworth, the first officer at Fort Snelling. He was there in 1819.
It was yellow with age, but showed Fort Snelling, Lake Harriette, named for his wife, other lakes and two rivers. That yellow bundle of letters read to us and the stories she told of this, her favorite cousin, as he had told them to her never failed in breathless interest. Few of them remain with me. The painted Indian in his canoe on the river, the Indian runner, stand out vividly, but the valuable stories contained in those old letters are gone. Nothing was ever a greater surprise than the loss of those stories when I tried to recall them years later. The Bible with the map and all those letters were burned when the home was destroyed by fire.
These valuable data have disappeared. The knowledge that this was so, made me listen with the greatest attention to stories told by the old settlers and record them. All at once the realization came that they, too, were fast disappearing, taking their stories with them. It was impossible for me to get all these precious reminiscences before it was too late. It must be done at once by a large number of interested women. These were found in our committee who have gathered these data most lovingly and financed this book. The proceeds are for patriotic work in Minnesota as deemed best by the committee.
It is hoped that our first work will be the raising of a monument to the Pioneer Women of our State. Those unsung heroines should not their heroism be heralded while some still live?
We thank these dear friends who have made this little volume possible by their warm interest. Every item in this book has been taken personally from a pioneer.
Each one is a mesh in a priceless lace fabric, that fabric Minnesota History.
If each mesh is not flawless, if age has weakened them, does not the pattern remain?
LUCY LEAVENWORTH WILDER MORRIS.

OLD TRAILS CHAPTER
Minneapolis
LUCY LEAVENWORTH WILDER MORRIS
(Mrs. J. T. Morris)
Mr. Eli Pettijohn--1841.
Mr. Pettijohn, now ninety-five years old,[2] clear in memory, patriarchial in looks, says:
[Footnote 2: All pioneers over ninety are so introduced as we feel that no state can show so large a number who have the same mentality]
I came to what is now Minnesota, but was then a part of Wisconsin Territory April sixteenth, 1841. I was on my way to work for the Williamsons, missionaries, at Lac qui Parle. I landed from the large steamer, the Alhambra, at the Fort Snelling landing. I climbed the steep path that led up to the fort, circled the wall and came to the big gate. A sentinel guarded it. He asked me if I wanted to enlist. I said, "No, I want to see the fort, and find a boarding place." He invited me in. I looked around this stone fort with much interest and could see Sibley House and Faribault house across the Minnesota river at Mendota. There were no large trees between the two points so these houses showed very clearly. The ruins of part of the first fort which was of wood, were still on the bluff about one block south of the new fort.
I asked where I could find a boarding place, and was directed to the St. Louis house, near where the water tower now stands. Before proceeding there, I stood and watched the Indians coming to the fort. I was told they were from Black Dog's, Good Road's and Shakopee's villages. The trail they followed was deeply worn. This seemed strange as they all wore moccasins. Their painted faces looked very sinister to one who had never before seen them, but later I learned to appreciate the worth of these Indians, who as yet were unspoiled by the white man's fire water.
I was told that the St. Louis House had been built after the fort was, by Mr. Baker, a trader, to accommodate people from the south, who wanted to summer here. It was now deserted by its owners and any one of the sparse settlers or traders would occupy it. He said a trader by the name of Martin McLeod was living there and that Kittson, another