Mary and I: Forty Years with the Sioux. Stephen Return Riggs
Hawley. I need not say that in the old house at home the sister and the daughter and granddaughter found a warm reception, and I, the western stranger, was not long overlooked. It was indeed a special Thanksgiving and time of family rejoicing, when the married sister and her family were gathered, with the brothers, Alfred and Moses and Thomas and Joseph, and the little sister Henrietta, and the parents and grandparents, then still living. Since that time, one by one, they have gone to the beautiful land above, and only two remain.
Well, the winter, with its terrible storms and deep snows, soon passed by. It was all too short for Mary’s preparation. I found work waiting for me in preaching to the little church in West Hawley. They were a primitive people, with but little of what is called wealth, but with generous hearts; and the three months I spent with them were profitable to me.
On the 16th of February, 1837, there was a great gathering in the old meeting-house on the hill; and, after the service was over, Mary and I received the congratulations of hosts of friends. Soon after this the time of our departure came. The snow-drifts were still deep on the hills when, in the first days of March, we commenced our hegira to the far West. It was a long and toilsome journey—all the way to New York City by stage, and then again from Philadelphia across the mountains to Pittsburg in the same manner, through the March rains and mud, we travelled on, day and night. It was quite a relief to sleep and glide down the beautiful Ohio on a steamer. And there we found friends in Portsmouth and Ripley and West Union, with whom we rested, and by whom we were refreshed, and who greatly forwarded our preparations for life among the Indians.
Of the journey Mary wrote, under date City of Penn, March 3, 1837: “We were surprised to find sleighing here, when there was little at Hartford and none at New Haven and New York. We expect to spend the Sabbath here; and may the Lord bless the detention to ourselves and others. Oh, for a heart more engaged to labor by the way—to labor any and everywhere.”
In West Union, Ohio, she writes from Anti-Slavery Palace, April 5: “Brother Joseph Riggs made us some valuable presents. His kindness supplied my lack of a good English merino, and Sister Riggs had prepared her donation and laid it by, as the Apostle directs—one pair of warm blankets, sheets and pillow-cases. My new nieces also seemed to partake of the same kind spirit, and gave us valuable mementos of their affection.
“We found Mrs. Burgess not behind, and perhaps before most of our friends, in her plans and gifts. Besides a cooking-stove and furniture, she has provided a fine blanket and comforter, sheets, pillow-cases, towels, dried peaches, etc. Perhaps you will fear that with so many kind friends we shall be furnished with too many comforts. Pray, then, that we may be kept very humble, and receive these blessings thankfully from the Giver of every good and perfect gift.”
Mrs. Isabella Burgess, the wife of my friend Rev. Dyer Burgess, we put into lasting remembrance by the name we gave to our first daughter, who is now living by the great wall of China. By and by we found ourselves furnished with such things as we supposed we should need for a year to come, and we bade adieu to our Ohio friends, and embarked at Cincinnati for St. Louis.
“Steamer Isabella, Thursday Eve, May 4.
“We have been highly favored thus far on our way down the Ohio. We took a last look of Indiana about noon, and saw the waters of the separating Wabash join those of the Ohio, and yet flow on without commingling for ten or twelve miles, marking their course by their blue tint and purer shade. The banks are much lower here than nearer the source, sometimes gently sloping to the water’s edge, and bearing such marks of inundation as trunks and roots of trees half imbedded in the sand, or cast higher up on the shore. At intervals we passed some beautiful bluffs, not very high, but very verdant, and others more precipitous. Bold, craggy rocks, with evergreen-tufted tops, and a few dwarf stragglers on their sides. One of them contained a cave, apparently dark enough for deeds of darkest hue, and probably it may have witnessed many perpetrated by those daring bandits that prowled about these bluffs during the early settlement of Illinois.
“Friday Eve.—This morning, when we awoke, we found ourselves in the muddy waters of the broad Mississippi. They are quite as muddy as those of a shallow pond after a severe shower. We drink it, however, and find the taste not quite as unpleasant as one might suppose from its color, though quite warm. The river is very wide here, and beautifully spotted with large islands. Their sandy points, the muddy waters, and abounding snags render navigation more dangerous than on the Ohio. We have met with no accident yet, and I am unconscious of fear. I desire to trust in Him who rules the water as well as the lands.”
“St. Louis, May 8, 1837.
“Had you been with us this morning, you would have sympathized with us in what seemed to be a detention in the journey to our distant unfound home in the wilderness, when we heard that the Fur Company’s boat left for Fort Snelling last week. You can imagine our feelings, our doubts, our hopes, our fears rushing to our hearts, but soon quieted with the conviction that the Lord would guide us in his own time to the field where he would have us labor. We feel that we have done all in our power to hasten on our journey and to gain information in reference to the time of leaving this city. Having endeavored to do this, we have desired to leave the event with God, and he will still direct. We now have some ground for hope that another boat will ascend the river in a week or two, and, if so, we shall avail ourselves of the opportunity. Till we learn something more definitely in regard to it, we shall remain at Alton, if we are prospered in reaching there.”
In those days the Upper Mississippi was still a wild and almost uninhabited region. Such places as Davenport and Rock Island, which now together form a large centre of population, had then, all told, only about a dozen houses. The lead mines of Galena and Dubuque had gathered in somewhat larger settlements. Above them there was nothing but Indians and military. So that a steamer starting for Fort Snelling was a rare thing. It was said that less than half a dozen in a season reached that point. Indeed, there was nothing to carry up but goods for the Indian trade, and army supplies. Some friends at Alton invited us to come and spend the intervening time. There we were kindly entertained in the family of Mr. Winthrop S. Gilman, who has since been one of the substantial Christian business men in New York City. On our leaving, Mr. Gilman bade us “look upward,” which has ever been one of our life mottoes.
At that time, a steamer from St. Louis required at least two full weeks to reach Fort Snelling. It was an object with us not to travel on the Sabbath, if possible. So we planned to go up beforehand, and take the up-river boat at the highest point. It might be, we thought, that the Lord would arrange things for us so that we should reach our mission field without travelling on the Day of Rest. With this desire we embarked for Galena. But Saturday night found us passing along by the beautiful country of Rock Island and Davenport. In the latter place Mary and I spent a Sabbath, and worshipped with a few of the pioneer people who gathered in a school-house. By the middle of the next week we had reached the city of lead. There we found the man who had said to the Home Missionary Society, “If you have a place so difficult that no one wants to go to it, send me there.” And they sent the veteran, Rev. Aratus Kent, to Galena, Illinois.
Some of the scenes and events connected with our ascent of the Mississippi are graphically described by Mary’s facile pen:
“Steamboat Olive Branch, May 17.
“We are now on our way to Galena, where we shall probably take a boat for St. Peters. We pursue this course, though it subjects us to the inconvenience of changing boats, that we may be able to avoid Sabbath travelling, if possible. One Sabbath at least will be rescued in this way, as the Pavilion, the only boat for St. Peters at present, leaves St. Louis on Sunday! This we felt would not be right for us, consequently we left Alton to-day, trusting that the Lord of the Sabbath would speed us on our journey of 3000 miles, and enable us to keep his Sabbath holy unto the end thereof.
“Of the scenery we have passed this afternoon, and are still passing, I can give you no just conceptions. It beggars description, and yet I wish you could imagine the Illinois semi-circular shores lined with high rocks, embosomed by trees of most delicate green, and crowned with a grassy mound of the same tint, or rising more perpendicularly and towering more loftily in solid columns, defying art to form or demolish works so impregnable,