In the spring of 1861, Henry David Thoreau embarked on a trip to visit Minnesota. At the time he was suffering from advanced tuberculosis which he had contracted in 1835. His doctor recommended a change of climate, and the fresh air of the American West to help clear Thoreau’s lungs.
It was upon this recommendation headed west for an expected 3 month journey. He brought along 17 year old Horace Mann Jr, a young botanist, as his companion. The two traveled through Niagara Falls, Detroit and Chicago before traveling by boat to St. Paul.
Thoreau was not impressed with St. Paul, commenting in a letter “At St. Paul, they dig their building stone out of the cellar; but it is apparently poor stuff”, but he was fascinated by Lake Harriet. Thoreau, Mann, and local geologist Dr. Charles Anderson spent a great deal of time on the lake’s shores, examining the water, woods and marshes of the area. They also cataloged sightings catbird, goldfinch, oriole, tanager, horned lark, flicker and killdeer.
The nature and air were not the only draw that Minnesota held for Thoreau. In the mid to late 1800s, some European Americans in the United States experienced what can be described as a cultural morning for the American West. Today we associate that time period with popular tales of cowboys on the frontier, but at the time it seemed to prominent European American thinkers like opportunities for “exploration” were dwindling. With this came a desire to preserve the stories and culture of American Indians, ironic considering the concurrent American government policy towards First Nations. With this in mind, Thoreau planned to follow the Minnesota River into the interior of the state and visit the Dakota Nation for himself.
On June 25th, 1861 Thoreau wrote the following letter describing his journey by steamboat along the Minnesota River:
Dear Sir,
After spending some three weeks in and about St. Paul, St. Anthony, and Minneapolis, we made an excursion in a steamer some 300 or more miles up the Minnesota River, to Redwood, or the Lower Sioux Agency, in order to see the plains and the Sioux, who were to receive their annual payment there. This is eminently the river of Minnesota, for she shares the Mississippi with Wisconsin, and it is of incalculable value to her. It flows through a very fertile country, destined to be famous for its wheat; but it is a remarkably winding stream, so the Redwood is only half as far from its mouth by land as by water. There was not a straight reach a mile in length as far as we went, generally you could not see a quarter of a mile of water, and the boat was steadily turning this way or that. At the greater bends, as the Traverse des Sioux, some of the passengers were landed and walked across to be taken in on the other side. Two or three times you could have thrown a stone across the neck of the isthmus while it was from one to three miles around it. It was a very novel kind of navigation to me.
The boat was perhaps the largest that had been up so high, and the water was rather low (it had been about 15 feet higher). In making a short turn, we repeatedly and designedly ran square into the steep and soft bank, taking in a cart-load of earth, this being more effectual than the rudder to fetch us about again; or the deeper water was so narrow and close to the shore, the we were obliged to run and break down at least 50 trees which overhung the water, when we did not cut them off, repeatedly losing part of our outworks, though the most exposed had been taken in. I could pluck almost any plant on the bank from the boat. We very frequently got aground and then drew ourselves along with a windlass and a cable fastened to a tree, or we swung round in the current, and completely blocked up and blockaded the river, one end of the boat resting on each shore. And yet we would haul ourselves round again with the windlass and cable in an hour or 2, though the boat was about 160 feet long and drew some 3 feet of water, or, often, water and sand. It was one consolation to know that in such a case we were all the while damming the river and so raising it.
We once ran fairly on to a concealed rock, with a shock that aroused all the passengers, and rested there, and the mate went below with a lamp expecting to find a hole, but he did not. Snags and sawyers were so common that I forgot to mention them. The sound of the boat rumbling was the ordinary music. However, as long as the boiler did not burst, we knew that no serious accident was likely to happen. Yet this was a singularly navigable river, more so than the Mississippi above the Falls, and it is owing to its very crookedness. Ditch it straight, and it would not only be very swift, but soon run out.
It was from 10-15 rods wide near the mouth and from 8 to 10 or 12 at Redwood. Through the current was swift, I did not see a ‘rip’ on it, and only 3 or 4 rocks. For 3 months in the year I am told that it can be navigated by small steamers about twice as far as we went, or to its source in Big Stone Lake, and a former Indian agent told me that at high water it was thought that such a steamer might pass into the Red River.
In short this river proved so very long and navigable, that I was reminded of the last letter or two in the Voyages of Baron la Hontan (written near the end of the 17th century, I think) in which he states that after reaching the Mississippi (by the Illinois or Wisconsin), the limit of previous exploration westward, he voyaged up it with his Indians, and at length turned up a great river coming in from the west which he called ‘la Riviere Longue’ and he relates various improbable things about the country and its inhabitants, so that this letter has been regarded as pure fiction – or more properly speaking a lie. But I am somewhat inclined now to reconsider the matter.
The Governor of Minnesota (Ramsey), the superintendent of the Ind. Affairs in this quarter, and the newly appointed Indian agent were on board; also a German band from St. Paul, a small cannon for salutes, and the money for the Indians. There were about 100 passengers chiefly from St. Paul, and more or less recently from the N. Eastern states; also half a dozen young educated Englishmen . . .
The last of the little settlements on the river, was New Ulm, about 100 miles this side of Redwood. It consists wholly of Germans. We left them 100 barrels of salt, which will be worth something more when the water is lowest, than at present. Redwood is a mere locality, scarcely an Indian village – where there is a store and some houses have been built for them. We were now fairly on the great plains, and looking south, and after walking that way 3 miles, could see no tree in that horizon. The buffalo was said to be feeding within 25 or 30 miles.
A regular council was held with the Indians, who had come in on their ponies; and speeches were made on both sides thro’ an interpreter, quite in the described mode; the Indians, as usual, having the advantage in point of truth and earnestness, and therefore of eloquence. The most prominent chief was named Little Crow. They were quite dissatisfied with the white man’s treatment of them and probably have reason to be so. This council was to be continued for 2 or 3 days – the payment to be made the 2nd day – and another payment to the other bands a little higher up the Yellow Medicine (a tributary of the Minnesota) a few days thereafter.
Yours Truly, Henry David Thoreau
Sadly, the trip did not have it’s desired restorative outcome. Thoreau passed away less than a year later, on May 6th, 1862. He did not live to see the outbreak of the US-Dakota war that the sympathies expressed in his letter hinted at to modern readers. His writings do provide an invaluable first-hand account of the difficulties of travel along the Minnesota River during the era of steamboats, and the complex relationship between European American and Dakota culture leading up to the US-Dakota War.
Written by Rose James, SCHS Program Manager