A Regiment with a Reputation: The First Minnesota Remembered
The dates of July 1st, 2nd, and 3rd have great significance for our nation for it was on these dates in 1863 that the greatest battle in the western hemisphere took place – a battle and a war that would forever change the nation, the way we think about country, race, and the essence of democracy.
It was a time before corporations and when the media still had independence and most Americans still had rootage in the land.
Out of this great battle came Lincolns Gettysburg address that historians now see as the speech that re-made America. The war settled unresolved issues from the revolution.
I am not hawkish nor a war monger and feel that most of our wars are unjust but WWII and the Civil War were arguably inevitable. The Civil War and its specifics are becoming more and more remote from our American experience and maybe this story is timely if only to rekindle why so many men lost their lives – not for oil, riches, land or power but to free men from slavery – for what could be more noble?
A Regiment with a Reputation: The First Minnesota Remembered
During our states centennial year, 1958, I was in 5th grade and received heavier than normal exposure to our state history. I can recall learning about Minnesota Men at Gettysburg, during the Civil War, who exhibited extraordinary courage in saving the day for the Union. But to any more than that, all I can remember was that this group of Minnesota Men had made some kind of last stand and exhibited a large degree of bravery.
It wasn’t until approximately 20 years ago when the Ken Burns documentary, “The Civil War,” aired on PBS, that my real interest in the “1st Minnesota Volunteers” and Civil War history began.
In April of 2000, my wife and I visited Gettysburg National Military Park and National Cemetery. We were so moved by our experience at Gettysburg that we returned again in the spring of 2001 and did a Civil War battlefield tour, Beginning at Appomattox and ending at Gettysburg, visiting 12 major battlefields.
Our first visit to Gettysburg was a similar experience to many others who have visited this “hallowed ground.” When one enters Gettysburg, there is an unmistakable feeling of reverence. I am not alone in this sensation. You will get this same response from others. The overwhelming feeling of what happened here tells one that this is indeed sacred ground. Up to that period in world history there had been no war like the American Civil War. This was going to be a different kind of war. Brother vs. brother - freedom vs. slavery - states rights vs. union. The Civil War marked an epochal change in world history. One faction of our country was experiencing the industrial revolution while the other was languishing in an aristocratic planter’s existence with slave labor. The very essence of American Ideals was being tested. Were all men really created equal? Were we going to be a “United States,” or a land of country states, like Europe?
On our first visit to Gettysburg, we enlisted a licensed battlefield guide to drive us around this huge battlefield in order to get a feel for the lay of the land. The tour lasted about 3 hours and near the completion of his services and knowing that we were Minnesotans, the guide stopped at the Minnesota Monument on Cemetery Ridge. I’m generally not too emotional about such things, but as my wife and I approached the “First Minnesota Monument,” and read the inscription describing the deeds done that day by 262 men from our state, I am not ashamed to admit that tears swelled in my eyes. On our return trip in 2001, we learned more about this famed group of fighting men and experienced the zeal and passion exhibited by park historians as they teach and lecture about the “First Minnesota.” I thought that it’s rather a shame that we here in our state know so little about this regiment, while in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania they are renowned and revered as heroes. I decided that when we returned home I would attempt to renew awareness in the deeds of the First Minnesota. What this group of Minnesota men sacrificed at Gettysburg should not be forgotten. I think it was the words of Winston Churchill, who said “never have so many, owed so much, to so few.” In my opinion, never could these words be more appropriately applied than to the First Minnesota.
Before I begin to tell you who and what they did, let me give a very brief background on what had happened thus far as it relates to the War and the “First.” This will give you a better understanding as to the timeliness and the importance to what the First Minnesota did: The First Minnesota Volunteers was the first regiment raised in the Civil War. In 1861 Minnesota had only been a state for only 3 years and the present governor, Alexander Ramsey personally knew Lincoln and the then secretary of war, Simon Cameron. Governor Ramsey, being in Washington at the time of Fort Sumter’s shelling, immediately pledged a regiment to the Union effort. The call went out and 1000 Minnesota men from all over the state quickly volunteered. Most of the men were back-woodsmen, loggers, farmers, pioneers, and rivermen. Many were recent immigrants to the country. It’s not surprising that a large portion were Scandinavians and Germans. What many modern day Americans don’t realize, was the prodigious letter writing done by these veterans. Diaries were common place and many regularly kept there hometown newspapers up to speed with the status of things on the front. The First Minnesota was no exception. There is a plethora of diaries and letters from the “First,” describing the food, marches, the heat, their Officers, the battles, prison camps, the life and deaths of their fellow comrades, and their feelings and convictions in the struggle against succession. They clearly understood what the war was about. Many, being recent immigrants to the country, had a new and keen sense of patriotism and did not want to see this country move in the direction that Europe had. Slavery was not a prime motivating factor, as it was distant and unknown to Minnesotans. Slavery was not something they had experienced, but seeing it in Virginia, they wrote about how they believed it to be wrong and must be destroyed.
The Minnesotans were considered larger than the average Civil War soldier. The average age of a Civil War soldier was 25. The average age of the Minnesota men was 26 years and 8 months. The population in Minnesota in 1861 was 200,000 and that figure was double as to what it was a decade prior. The going price for government land was $1.25 an acre. Most of the population then shunned cities and towns and lived in log or sod homes. When I say that these boys were backwoodsmen, that’s not an exaggeration.
The First Minnesota was mustered into service on April 30th, 1861. They were somewhat unusual from most volunteer regiments as that they came from all over the state, where as most other Civil War units came from individual communities. The Minnesotans were trained at Fort Snelling and were somewhat unique in that they were trained by Army regulars; in the old army way, that is you stick together always! And you never run. They were issued Springfield rifled muskets, considered a good weapon for its day. Their first uniform issue was black pants, bright red shirts, and wide brimmed black hats. This would change after “Bull Run.” Before “Bull Run,” some Union troops wore gray and some Confederate troops wore blue; obviously causing great confusion. Both armies had a lot to learn.
The Civil War in the eastern theatre lasted 4 years exactly to the day; April 12, 1861 to Lee’s official surrender ceremony at Appomattox Court House, Apri112, 1865. As many Americans died in the Civil War as all the other wars this country has fought combined, (620,000 fatalities); More than the Revolution, Mexican-American War, Spanish-American War, WW I, WW II, Korean War, Vietnam, and Desert Storm.
Casualty rates in Civil War battles were normally 30% or higher. In World War II, 5 to 10 % casualties were considered blood baths. Civil War weaponry had advanced beyond the Napoleonic warfare tactics used at that time. The Civil Wars rifled muskets capable of 300 yard accuracy was devastating to men in formations accustomed to approaching lines equipped with smooth bore muskets with accuracy of only 50 yards on average. Bayonet use in the Civil War was rare. The Civil War saw the development of the first “iron-clad” battleship, the first submarine, and the first land and water mines (called torpedoes then.) Trench warfare used so effectively WW I was developed to perfection by Confederate General James Longstreet during the Civil War. The American Civil War rendered the weaponry, equipment, and tactics of the era, obsolete for every nation on earth.
At the 3 day battle of Gettysburg, the greatest battle ever fought on American soil, there were 51,000 casualties. At Antietam, a one day affair, there were over 23,000 casualties. More Americans died at Antietam on September 17th, 1862 than on any other day in our history!
The First Minnesota first distinguished themselves at the Union defeat of Bull Run or Manassas as the Rebels call it, by not turning tail and running. They were one of the few Union outfits to hold together under intense fire and performed the rear-guard in the messy Union retreat. Their action at Bull Run was critical in giving enough stiff resistance by the Union forces to keep the Rebels from routing Union forces all the way to Washington. They suffered the greatest loss at Bull Run of any Union regiment. This would be their christening under fire, as they would prove themselves again and again in nearly every major engagement in the eastern theatre, including the Peninsula Campaign, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and finally Gettysburg, were they would forever be enshrined into national glory.
Repeatedly the “First” was decorated for its valor and coolness under fire. One important note of interest is an occurrence to the First Minnesota at Fredericksburg. At Fredericksburg the Union (or “Army of the Potomac” as it was called,) was poorly led, as it was so much during the first half of the war. The troops in blue were repeatedly order to assault Maryes Heights, an open plain that proceeded up a slope to a fortified stone wall behind which were 4 ranks of confederate riflemen. It was a horrible slaughter of Union forces. Thousands of brave Union troops fell as wave after wave tried to take the unassailable position behind the stone wall. It was a terrific blunder by the Union command. Nothing was gained and thousands of men lost their lives in a suicidal assault.
The man in charge of the First Minnesota at Fredericksburg was Colonel Alfred Sulley, it was Col. Sulley who kept the First Minnesota out of sight (and out of mind) from command and thus saved them from certain slaughter. He recognized the senselessness of what he was seeing and said to an aid, “I was not going to murder my men.” Little was he or the nation then to realize the importance of his decision to preserve the First Minnesota as a fighting unit.
Prior to Gettysburg, the Army of the Potomac had suffered a series of devastating loses at the hands of Robert E. Lee. Lee. After Lee’s brilliant victory at Chancellorsville, he felt that his Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was invincible. Lee felt that the quickest way to win the war was to invade the north, wage warfare on northern soil and destroy the Army of the Potomac, thus destroying the will of the northern people to continue with the war effort and proceed to Washington, hoping that the Federals would be ready to sue for peace and recognize the Confederacy. The Army of the Potomac had their backs to the wall. They were now going to have to fight and protect the “mother land.”
Lee’s mistake was underestimating the boys in blue. The Union troops knew they had not been given a fair chance, that they had been badly led. With good leadership, they knew they could fight as good as any southerner. Lincoln had placed a new general in command of the Army of the Potomac only days before Gettysburg, Gen. George Gordon Meade. A careful general, but a good one, who would not make the kind of mistakes his predecessors had made.
Gettysburg was a chance engagement. Neither Army knew the location of his foe. Lee had lost touch with his Calvary, which was responsible for being the eyes and ears of the army. Gettysburg was located at a point were numerous roads converged; a prosperous market town approximately 50 miles west of Washington. Some of Lee’s generals had heard that there was a cache of shoes in Gettysburg and many of his men were shoeless.
When the Armies met in Gettysburg, the South came in from the north and the North came in from the south. Thus the stage was set for one of the greatest battles ever fought in world history.
The great battle started on July 1st, 1863 and not all the Union forces had yet arrived at Gettysburg. The Union troops on hand were greatly out numbered at the start. The First Minnesota was near Uniontown, Maryland when the fighting began. They could hear the artillery and see the smoke. They knew that they would soon be part of a great battle. The first day turned into a rout for the Confederates as fleeing stragglers and demoralized Federals from the 11th corps were streaming by the “First” speaking of another Union disaster, the Minnesotans were seasoned veterans and not easily discouraged. At 9:00 PM the “First” arrived at the battlefield. At dawn on the 2nd, the First Minnesota was placed in reserve behind the Union line on Cemetery ridge about midway between the extreme Union right position and its left. The Union line formed the shape of a fish-hook over a mile in length. Facing this position to the west and north on Seminary Ridge was Lee’s army. The Unions 3rd Corps, commanded by Gen. Dan Sickles, positioned in front of the First Minnesota, pulled his Corps out of position without the acknowledgment of the commanding General Meade. He had advanced his Corps in a salient into a peach orchard, a wheatfield and a cluster of boulders known as the Devils Den. This left him vulnerable and exposed to flanking and enfilading fire. It also left a huge hole in the Federal line on Cemetery Ridge. The Confederates were quick to recognize this opening and react. Confederate brigades under Colonel David Lang and General Cadmus Wilcox were advancing quickly towards the gap in the Union line, with Sickle’s routed and fleeing Union 3rd Corps in their front. If the advancing Confederates were to reach the hole in the Union line, they’d flank the Union army and roll it up like a wet blanket. The situation was more than critical, the Civil War had reached the supreme moment for the Federals. If they were to lose the day, they’d lose the battle and most likely the war. What was there to prevent Lee from marching straight to Washington? The situation was desperate. The Union General in charge on Cemetery Ridge was General Winfield Scott Hancock and he frantically tried to rally the panic stricken, fleeing troops. He had Gibbons Division on its way from Cemetery Hill to plug the hole, but that was close to a half mile away. He desperately needed 5 minutes time until Gibbons men would arrive. Hancock then realized that the First Minnesota was on hand and in reserve. Hancock cried out to the Colonel of the First Minnesota, Colonel William Colvill; “My God, are these all the men we have here?” Hancock then ordered Colonel Colvill to charge the advancing Confederate lines and capture their colors. Hancock later said, “I had no alternative but to order the regiment in…in some way we needed 5 minutes or we were lost. It was fortunate that I found such a grand body of men as the 1st Minnesota. I knew that they must lose heavily and it pained me to give the order for them to advance, but I would have done it if I had known every man would be killed. It was a sacrifice that must be made. The superb gallantry of these men saved our line from being broken.”
There were 262 in that body of Minnesota men there on Cemetery Ridge. These men had become hard-core fighters. They knew how to position themselves best to kill men. And they knew what it was like to lose their fellow comrades. Every man knew what was being asked of him. They were being sacrificed in order to buy some time, that the balance of this war was now on there shoulders. They were going up against a force of 1,700 Confederates. Colonel Colvill stepped out in front of his men, whom had formed a straight line, shoulder to shoulder, facing the enemy, and called out, “who will join me,” all 262 responded “Yes!” A survivor later recalled the men “started down the slopes in a beautiful line” and quickened their pace as they progressed. What these men were doing at dusk on July 2nd was a bayonet charge into an overwhelming Confederate force. Fortunately for the Minnesotans, the Confederates were in some disorder, having cross Plum Creek and a split rail fence when the Minnesotans hit them. The larger Confederate force was stunned by the attack which halted their forward movement. After the bayonet attack the Minnesotans settled in to a musket fight. The overwhelming numbers of Confederates were beginning to encircle the “First,” raining a hail storm of lead upon them. Men were dropping like leafs, but the Minnesotans gave the Union not only the 5 minutes they needed but an additional 15. But those 15 minutes was an eternity to the men of the First.
Of the 262 men of the First Minnesota who made the charge, only 47 returned to Cemetery Ridge. The single greatest lose that any Union Regiment suffered in the Civil War. Many historians agree that their valor saved the day. “The regiment had stopped the enemy, and held back its mighty force and saved the position. But at what sacrifice! Nearly every officer was dead or lay weltering with bloody wounds, our gallant Colonel and every field officer among them. Of the 262 who made the charge, 215 lay upon the field, stricken down by Rebel bullets, 47 were still in line, and not a man was missing. The annals of war contain no parallel to this charge. In its desperate valor, complete execution, successful result, and in its sacrifice of men in proportion to the number engaged, authentic history has no record in which it can be compared.”
There were hundreds of examples of velour and courage at Gettysburg, but what the First Minnesota did here on the second day is unquestionably one of the finest acts of heroism in American history. Giving Hancock the time he needed until Gibbons division could arrive and drive the Confederates back. But the story doesn’t end here for the First Minnesota. Another day of fighting remained at Gettysburg and the First Minnesota would play another important and crucial part in contributing to victory.
On July 3rd, an eerie hush settled over the battlefield. It was a windless day of oppressive heat. The Army of the Potomac found themselves behind the stonewall fortifications along the length of Cemetery Ridge. The Confederate Army of Northern Virginia was facing them in the trees on Seminary Ridge about a mile away. Some fighting took place in the pre-dawn hours that morning, but other than that, the 2 armies quietly faced one another for most of the day. The afternoon silence was finally broken by the most tremendous cannonade duel yet seen in the annals of human warfare. 160 Confederate artillery pieces open fire on the center of the Union line on Cemetery Ridge. The bombardment lasted 2 hours. The Union Generals Hancock and Gibbons, walked back and forth unflinchingly, exposing themselves to Confederate shells in order to inspire their men. The Union halted their shelling early in order to deceive the Confederates in thinking they had exhausted their munitions and also to mislead them in thinking that Union guns had been knocked out. The Confederate shelling was not as effective as they had hoped. Most of the shells passed overhead into the rear of the Union forces. After the Confederate bombardment stopped, 15 thousand men in gray came out of the trees on Seminary Ridge and formed for an assault on Cemetery Ridge, what would forever be known as “Pickets Charge.”
The South suffered heavily as they progressed across the open fields towards Cemetery Ridge. The Union having preserved there positions on the high ground during the 2nd days fighting, had as a result, poured a murderous cannon fire of shell and canister upon the advancing Confederates. Large groups of men fell. As the Confederates were climbing a rail fence at the Emmitsburg Road only about 100 yards from the Union lines, the men in blue opened up with rifle fire. The results were devastating for the Rebels. Nearly the whole front line fell. The First Minnesota, being position just to the left of the Union center was in the thick of things again.
The advancing Confederates began an oblique movement, merging there troops to concentrate their attack on the Union center. Gen. Lee believed that here at the Union center was the weakest part of the Union defense. Here also was where the First Minnesota was located.
At a point near the center called the “angle,” Confederate forces under Gen. L. Armistead breached the Union lines and a desperate hand to hand struggle ensued. It appeared that Union forces were beginning to break. A pivotal moment hung in the balance. The Federals were being pushed back by the spirited Confederate charge led by Armistead.
The surviving 47 of the First Minnesota had increased to about 150 men as about 100 men, who on the second day, had been assigned to provost marshal duty and as sharpshooters at Little Round Top had rejoined their comrades. As the Confederates breached the “angle,” the First Minnesota and part of Harrows Brigade were ordered to flank the Confederates. What happened next is best describe by the words of a survivor: “Corp. Dehn, the last of our color guard, then carrying our tattered flag, was here shot through the hand, and the flagstaff cut in two. Corp. Henry D. O’Brien of Company E instantly seized the flag by the remnant of the staff. Whether the command to charge was given by any general officer I do not know. My impression then was that it came as a spontaneous outburst from the men, and instantly the line precipitated itself upon the enemy. O’Brien who then had the broken staff and tatters of our battle flag, with his characteristic bravery and impetuosity sprang with it to the front at the first sound of the word charge, and rushed right up to the enemy’s line, keeping it noticeably in advance of every other color. My feeling at the instant blamed his rashness in so risking its capture. But the effect was electrical. Every man of the First Minnesota sprang to protect its flag, and the rest rushed with them upon the enemy. The bayonet was used a few minutes, and cobble stones, with which the ground was covered, filled the air, being thrown by those in the rear over the heads of their comrades.” It was here that Private Marshall Sherman of the “First” captured the battle flag of Virginia that is still in possession of the State of Minnesota and has created some recent controversy by Virginia wanting it back. O’Brien and Sherman were to receive the Congressional Medals of Honor. On July 3rd, the First Minnesota lost an additional 55 casualties, 23 killed in defense of their country.
As history knows, the Confederates suffered a devastating defeat at Gettysburg from which it would never recover. Gettysburg was the turning point of the Civil War and the high-water mark for the Confederacy. Lee would never again invade northern territory in any real threat and it was down hill for the South for the remainder of the war. The Union had won a great victory on their own soil. The role that the Fighting First Minnesota played at this pivotal moment in our history speaks for itself. This was mostly the end of the First as a viable fighting unit. Most of the men would be mustered out of service. Some would become part of existing or newly created Federal Regiments.
As a Minnesotan who had been with the First Minnesota when it left Fort Snelling in 1861 and was on hand in New York to witness the First marching in Brooklyn on August 28th, 1863, nearly 2 months after Gettysburg wrote: “As I saw this little fragment of the once splendid Minnesota First march by me, carrying their stained and tattered flag, scarcely a shred of which is left, except the design close by the staff, and take their places in line of battle just as they stood on that bright morning more than 2 years ago at Fort Snelling, when so many of us were there …and embarking for war, and their glorious destiny, I absolutely shivered with emotion. There the brave fellows stood a grand shadow of the regiment Fort Snelling knew. Their bronzed faces looked so composed and serious. There was a history written on every one of them and I never felt so much like falling down and doing reverence to any living men. The music of the band, as the men went steadily through the changes of the drill was very sweet, but it seemed to me all the while like a dirge for the fallen.”
There are 3 beautiful monuments in Gettysburg erected for the First Minnesota. One where they made their famous charge on the second day, another near the “angle” where they helped in crushing Pickets Charge, and the third in Gettysburg National Cemetery only a short distance where Lincoln gave the famous Gettysburg Address. The Minnesota Monument in the National Cemetery was the very first monument dedicated at Gettysburg.
I hope this account will renew an interest in the Fighting First Minnesota. What these brave men did along with all veterans should never be forgotten. We owe them too much! What the First did at Gettysburg should forever be a part of Minnesota history and heritage. May their memory never die. And may we not forget what these men fought for; to preserve freedom for all men. And when we remember these brave men who gave the supreme sacrifice for the reasons they so clearly understood, may we think of the closing remarks made by Abraham Lincoln in his Gettysburg Address. The speech that remade America:
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we can not dedicate -- we can not consecrate -- we can not hallow -- this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
The materials from which I learned of and quoted from were:
“The Last Full Measure, the Life and Death of the First Minnesota Volunteers” Richard Moe
“The First Minnesota Regiment at Gettysburg” Robert and William Haiber
“The Gettysburg Magazine” Robert W. Meinhard
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Motherhood
Is it coincidental this Mothers Day weekend that there are also babes in the woodlands and wetlands of northern Minnesota? Whether it is or not, my experiences living in the woods this time of the year, awakens the realization within me that the female has within her an instinctive urge that I may never fully realize. And although I may never fully realize it, it is nonetheless as much a part of our being here as any other instinctive drive within the human and animal psyche.
This realization never fails to be forthcoming when I come upon a birds nest and the efforts of the hen to shield, protect, and defend her eggs or young which result in an almost sacrificial act. In some cases it is this act of Motherhood which is manifested in innumerable acts for our being here.
I often use Anishinaubae Ojibwe names and stories to clarify my essays but a greater purpose for referencing Ojibwe stories is that I see some hope for mankind in embracing the traditional Anishinaubaek attitude towards Mother Earth. Their beliefs that all life forms share the earth equally seems a key element in living sustainably on the planet and showing respect towards those other life forms that we share the planet with.
There are good books available about the Ojibwe people but many are written by white men or mixed blood people. I have learned much from these books sincerely authored by people like William Whipple Warren, Frances Densmore, and Johann Kohl but a writer whom has enabled me to understand the world of the Ojibwe better than any is Basil Johnston, an Anishinaubae scholar from Cape Crocker Indian Reserve in Ontario and who has written about a dozen books about the Anishinaubaek creation stories, spirit world, and language.
In Johnston’s book, “The Manitous,” he tells a creation story where Kitchi-Manitou (the Great Mystery) had created all the plants and animals in the world in the fulfillment of a vision. This world had become flooded and apparently all life was coming to an end. Clinging to flotsam on the surface was a myriad of animals. While struggling to stay afloat, they witnessed new life beginning in the sky. Geeshigo Quae (Sky Woman) was “espoused” to a Manitou and was about to give birth.
The creatures afloat on the surface of earth, in an act of unselfishness, set aside their concerns and asked the great turtle to offer his back as a place of refuge for Geezhigo Quae and invited her down. When settling upon the shell of the turtle, she asked for some soil. Many animals attempted to dive into the depths for soil but none but the lowly muskrat was able to dive deep enough and retrieve a paw full of soil of which Sky Woman thinly spread around the outside edge of the turtle shell and then “breathed the breath of life, growth, and abundance into the soil and infused into the soil and earth the attributes of womanhood and motherhood, that of giving life, nourishment, shelter, instruction, and inspiration for the heart, mind, and spirit.” It was after she had done this that she gave birth to twins whose descendents took the name Anishinaubaek.
This island continued to grow and became Turtle Island. It was then that Kitchi Manitou and Sky Woman gave this land to the first born native peoples under the condition that they live respectfully in joint tenancy with all other life forms on Turtle Island.
I continue to be impressed by the unmitigated love and depths that nursing mothers will go to in order to insure the lives of their young. These singular acts of courage are witnessed on an almost daily event. I see it dozens of time by the broken wing acts by birds trying to lead me after them rather then their babes. I see and hear it in a doe deer fleeing a short distance and snorting to call my attention to it rather than its fawn. I see it in my own wife’s unrelenting acts of caring and nurturing of our own kids. I have seen it in my own mother and this does not only apply to acts of protection but also nurturing and inspiration. I remember so clearly the stories my mother told me of when she was very young and newly married to my Father, she had relocated temporarily outside an army base in Alabama. She was a naive country girl and not exposed to the vile racism that was manifested in ‘Jim Crow’ in the south, in fact she had maybe only seen two or three black people prior to this. Her tales of the blatant and shocking racism, brutality, and segregation in the south outraged her and she instilled in my sister and I the same rancor against bigots. Still today, her spirit and consciousness of right and wrong visits my soul across the grim frontiers of death. My Mother lives within me. She is as much a part of me as my father.
Many of the ways of the world are still a mystery to me and maybe that’s not all bad. But it is an inspiration to see a small sunfish aggressively defending its shallow nest in the lake, the hen mallard doing a broken wing act, the deer calling me away from its new born fawn, or my mother teaching me to respect all people. I was reminded lately of the Ojibwe Seven Values; humility, truth, bravery, honesty, respect, love, and wisdom and the importance of these to future generations. I also remind myself of the Ojibwe belief that we inhabitants of the earth – human, other animals, and plants – are all “joint tenants’ of this earth and that survival depends on respect!
Is it coincidental this Mothers Day weekend that there are also babes in the woodlands and wetlands of northern Minnesota? Whether it is or not, my experiences living in the woods this time of the year, awakens the realization within me that the female has within her an instinctive urge that I may never fully realize. And although I may never fully realize it, it is nonetheless as much a part of our being here as any other instinctive drive within the human and animal psyche.
This realization never fails to be forthcoming when I come upon a birds nest and the efforts of the hen to shield, protect, and defend her eggs or young which result in an almost sacrificial act. In some cases it is this act of Motherhood which is manifested in innumerable acts for our being here.
I often use Anishinaubae Ojibwe names and stories to clarify my essays but a greater purpose for referencing Ojibwe stories is that I see some hope for mankind in embracing the traditional Anishinaubaek attitude towards Mother Earth. Their beliefs that all life forms share the earth equally seems a key element in living sustainably on the planet and showing respect towards those other life forms that we share the planet with.
There are good books available about the Ojibwe people but many are written by white men or mixed blood people. I have learned much from these books sincerely authored by people like William Whipple Warren, Frances Densmore, and Johann Kohl but a writer whom has enabled me to understand the world of the Ojibwe better than any is Basil Johnston, an Anishinaubae scholar from Cape Crocker Indian Reserve in Ontario and who has written about a dozen books about the Anishinaubaek creation stories, spirit world, and language.
In Johnston’s book, “The Manitous,” he tells a creation story where Kitchi-Manitou (the Great Mystery) had created all the plants and animals in the world in the fulfillment of a vision. This world had become flooded and apparently all life was coming to an end. Clinging to flotsam on the surface was a myriad of animals. While struggling to stay afloat, they witnessed new life beginning in the sky. Geeshigo Quae (Sky Woman) was “espoused” to a Manitou and was about to give birth.
The creatures afloat on the surface of earth, in an act of unselfishness, set aside their concerns and asked the great turtle to offer his back as a place of refuge for Geezhigo Quae and invited her down. When settling upon the shell of the turtle, she asked for some soil. Many animals attempted to dive into the depths for soil but none but the lowly muskrat was able to dive deep enough and retrieve a paw full of soil of which Sky Woman thinly spread around the outside edge of the turtle shell and then “breathed the breath of life, growth, and abundance into the soil and infused into the soil and earth the attributes of womanhood and motherhood, that of giving life, nourishment, shelter, instruction, and inspiration for the heart, mind, and spirit.” It was after she had done this that she gave birth to twins whose descendents took the name Anishinaubaek.
This island continued to grow and became Turtle Island. It was then that Kitchi Manitou and Sky Woman gave this land to the first born native peoples under the condition that they live respectfully in joint tenancy with all other life forms on Turtle Island.
I continue to be impressed by the unmitigated love and depths that nursing mothers will go to in order to insure the lives of their young. These singular acts of courage are witnessed on an almost daily event. I see it dozens of time by the broken wing acts by birds trying to lead me after them rather then their babes. I see and hear it in a doe deer fleeing a short distance and snorting to call my attention to it rather than its fawn. I see it in my own wife’s unrelenting acts of caring and nurturing of our own kids. I have seen it in my own mother and this does not only apply to acts of protection but also nurturing and inspiration. I remember so clearly the stories my mother told me of when she was very young and newly married to my Father, she had relocated temporarily outside an army base in Alabama. She was a naive country girl and not exposed to the vile racism that was manifested in ‘Jim Crow’ in the south, in fact she had maybe only seen two or three black people prior to this. Her tales of the blatant and shocking racism, brutality, and segregation in the south outraged her and she instilled in my sister and I the same rancor against bigots. Still today, her spirit and consciousness of right and wrong visits my soul across the grim frontiers of death. My Mother lives within me. She is as much a part of me as my father.
Many of the ways of the world are still a mystery to me and maybe that’s not all bad. But it is an inspiration to see a small sunfish aggressively defending its shallow nest in the lake, the hen mallard doing a broken wing act, the deer calling me away from its new born fawn, or my mother teaching me to respect all people. I was reminded lately of the Ojibwe Seven Values; humility, truth, bravery, honesty, respect, love, and wisdom and the importance of these to future generations. I also remind myself of the Ojibwe belief that we inhabitants of the earth – human, other animals, and plants – are all “joint tenants’ of this earth and that survival depends on respect!
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Makwa Returns
Late last Sunday night a kindred spirit visited me. Over the past four or five years, this same visitor has been coming around to steal a snack from my bird feeder or my garbage can and I have witnessed his annual growth into an impressive figure of a bear – Makwa. Two years ago, I took a night photo with a small 3.2 mega pixel camera that a friend enhanced. It revealed that Makwa has a hole in one ear and a scar running down his forehead onto his muzzle – apparently a battle scar with some other formidable boar.
Having seen many bears and been akin to bear hunts and witnessed many being weighed, I estimate Makwa to be around 400 lbs. which would put him well over that weight this autumn after a summer of fattening on berries, succulent greens, a fawn or two, and acorns and hazelnuts.
(The photos with this essay are of Makwa, taken with a game camera.)
What alerted me to Makwas presence was my dog barking at the noise made by Makwa knocking my bird feeder over. I got out of bed, knowing who was here and grabbed my flashlight and camera and stepped out the door. Makwa ignored me as he lay on the ground licking up the spilled sunflower seed. I tried taking some pictures with the camera to no avail as it was too dark. My next act was to yell at him to go as I knew his next act would be to go for my trash cans. Upon yelling “go bear!” he lumbered to his feet then made a lightning quick lunge at me. He stopped suddenly and rolled his head in gyrations and made another fast lunge. I knew, or hoped I knew, that these were bluff charges but none-the-less it was time to go inside! I loaded my side by side with two shotgun shells and fired over his head once upon which he ran off but I knew from past experience, he would soon be back. Last summer, a similar scenario unfolded and after Makwa had run off from a gun discharge, I decided it would be wise to remove my wife’s hummingbird feeders before he returned and crunched them into shambles. So, in my shorts with my revolver on my side and headlamp on, I went about the yard with a step ladder taking down the hummingbird feeders. While a top the ladder, I casually pointed my head towards the downed sunflower feeder with the headlamp on and there was Makwa, already back, laying on the ground and seemingly impervious to my collecting the hummer feeders.
I feel as Makwa and I know one another. I feel no threat from him, or at least no more than he feels from me and I do not feel that he is an outlaw as I am more an invader in his home than he is in mine.
In Anishinabae society, the people are divided into families or clans. The clans are represented by birds, mammals, fish, or reptiles. In William Whipple Warren’s book, “History of the Ojibway People,” he states that the largest clan is the bear clan, “…The Noka or Bear family are more numerous than any other clans of the Ojibways, forming fully one-sixth of the entire tribe.” Warren also states that “they are the acknowledged war chiefs and warriors of the tribe, and are the keepers of the war-pipe and war-club, and are often denominated the bulwarks of the tribe against its enemies.”
At the time of Warren’s writing (1852) he notes that the great chief of the Mississippi Band, Hole-in-the-Day the Younger was of the Bear Clan.
In Barbara Ford’s book, “Black Bear – The Spirit of the Wilderness,” she notes that all Indian people have a special and high regard for the black bear but the Cherokee people placed the bear in a special category. Ford writes that, “Long ago, according to Cherokee legend, all Cherokees in a certain town decided to live in the forest with the animals, so that they would always have enough to eat. Other Cherokees sent messengers to the forest to try and persuade them to come back, but when the messengers arrived they saw that the people already had long black hair like bears. The people refused to return. ‘Hereafter we shall be called bears and when you yourselves are hungry, come into the woods and call us and we shall come to give you our own flesh.’ One of the bear people said, ‘You need not be afraid to kill us, for we shall live always.”
“As the messengers were leaving they looked back, and saw a group of black bears going into the forest.”
Before I had eaten bear, I was told that it was fatty. This is wrong. Although the meat is surrounded by a thick layer of fat, the meat is lean and excellent in quality. The fat was considered a prize by cooking it down to a fine oil that was used as a dip like mayonnaise, used to treat muscle aches, applied to hair, baby oil, and considered superior to olive oil.
Of all the forest animals that I have encountered, the bear, with maybe the sole exception of the raven, has the most intelligence.
There are many amazing attributes to bears but the most amazing is hibernation. Although bears are not considered true hibernators, their respiratory and metabolic system slows down to a near stand still. Janine Benyus, in “Northwoods Wildlife” writes, “The cholesterol level of a hibernating bear is twice its normal level, and yet they don’t develop hardening of the arteries or gallstones. In fact, they produce a bile juice that seems to dissolve gallstones, even in the human patients it has been tested on! By the same token, the urea that would poison most mammals (including us) doesn’t harm bears [bears do not urinate while in hibernation.] They break it down and use it to build protein, an adaptation that helps them maintain organ and muscle tissue during the long sleep.”
Before entering hibernation, bears put on large amounts of weight. Biologists note that a bear can 11 to 18 pounds of food a day. Bears are great opportunists and know what is ripe and capitalize on these foods, especially berries, hazel nuts, and acorns. Bears will travel great distances to get to locations where these crops grow in abundance and cram as much of these foods down as possible. I know bear hunters that have put down foods such as prime rib and candied apples at baits to attract bears yet when the acorns are in season, most bears will turn their noses up at these seemingly attractive baits and focus on acorns. Bears know what foods have the highest nutritional value and it’s natural foods.
Bears also have the ability to pass on learned traits. When the common method of hunting bears began – hunting over bait – it seemed quite effective. Today, this is no longer the case. Bears have learned and sows have passed on this acquired, or learned, ability to not approach baits till after dark, when the hunter is gone and the coast is clear. I know of numerous instances where hunters have placed timing devices at there baits to find out what time the bears are coming in and almost without fail, the bears come in a half hour to hour after sunset. The bear just hangs out till its dark enough to cause the hunter to leave.
Prior to around the mid 1970’s, bears were considered vermin and could be killed with impunity and seeing a black bear was a rare sight. It was at this time that the bear was given big game status and makwa began to re-populate his home turf. Now makwa, although he is rather elusive and not seen with regularity, has made a comeback. Makwa – brother bear has reclaimed his rightful place in the forests of North America.
Late last Sunday night a kindred spirit visited me. Over the past four or five years, this same visitor has been coming around to steal a snack from my bird feeder or my garbage can and I have witnessed his annual growth into an impressive figure of a bear – Makwa. Two years ago, I took a night photo with a small 3.2 mega pixel camera that a friend enhanced. It revealed that Makwa has a hole in one ear and a scar running down his forehead onto his muzzle – apparently a battle scar with some other formidable boar.
Having seen many bears and been akin to bear hunts and witnessed many being weighed, I estimate Makwa to be around 400 lbs. which would put him well over that weight this autumn after a summer of fattening on berries, succulent greens, a fawn or two, and acorns and hazelnuts.
(The photos with this essay are of Makwa, taken with a game camera.)
What alerted me to Makwas presence was my dog barking at the noise made by Makwa knocking my bird feeder over. I got out of bed, knowing who was here and grabbed my flashlight and camera and stepped out the door. Makwa ignored me as he lay on the ground licking up the spilled sunflower seed. I tried taking some pictures with the camera to no avail as it was too dark. My next act was to yell at him to go as I knew his next act would be to go for my trash cans. Upon yelling “go bear!” he lumbered to his feet then made a lightning quick lunge at me. He stopped suddenly and rolled his head in gyrations and made another fast lunge. I knew, or hoped I knew, that these were bluff charges but none-the-less it was time to go inside! I loaded my side by side with two shotgun shells and fired over his head once upon which he ran off but I knew from past experience, he would soon be back. Last summer, a similar scenario unfolded and after Makwa had run off from a gun discharge, I decided it would be wise to remove my wife’s hummingbird feeders before he returned and crunched them into shambles. So, in my shorts with my revolver on my side and headlamp on, I went about the yard with a step ladder taking down the hummingbird feeders. While a top the ladder, I casually pointed my head towards the downed sunflower feeder with the headlamp on and there was Makwa, already back, laying on the ground and seemingly impervious to my collecting the hummer feeders.
I feel as Makwa and I know one another. I feel no threat from him, or at least no more than he feels from me and I do not feel that he is an outlaw as I am more an invader in his home than he is in mine.
In Anishinabae society, the people are divided into families or clans. The clans are represented by birds, mammals, fish, or reptiles. In William Whipple Warren’s book, “History of the Ojibway People,” he states that the largest clan is the bear clan, “…The Noka or Bear family are more numerous than any other clans of the Ojibways, forming fully one-sixth of the entire tribe.” Warren also states that “they are the acknowledged war chiefs and warriors of the tribe, and are the keepers of the war-pipe and war-club, and are often denominated the bulwarks of the tribe against its enemies.”
At the time of Warren’s writing (1852) he notes that the great chief of the Mississippi Band, Hole-in-the-Day the Younger was of the Bear Clan.
In Barbara Ford’s book, “Black Bear – The Spirit of the Wilderness,” she notes that all Indian people have a special and high regard for the black bear but the Cherokee people placed the bear in a special category. Ford writes that, “Long ago, according to Cherokee legend, all Cherokees in a certain town decided to live in the forest with the animals, so that they would always have enough to eat. Other Cherokees sent messengers to the forest to try and persuade them to come back, but when the messengers arrived they saw that the people already had long black hair like bears. The people refused to return. ‘Hereafter we shall be called bears and when you yourselves are hungry, come into the woods and call us and we shall come to give you our own flesh.’ One of the bear people said, ‘You need not be afraid to kill us, for we shall live always.”
“As the messengers were leaving they looked back, and saw a group of black bears going into the forest.”
Before I had eaten bear, I was told that it was fatty. This is wrong. Although the meat is surrounded by a thick layer of fat, the meat is lean and excellent in quality. The fat was considered a prize by cooking it down to a fine oil that was used as a dip like mayonnaise, used to treat muscle aches, applied to hair, baby oil, and considered superior to olive oil.
Of all the forest animals that I have encountered, the bear, with maybe the sole exception of the raven, has the most intelligence.
There are many amazing attributes to bears but the most amazing is hibernation. Although bears are not considered true hibernators, their respiratory and metabolic system slows down to a near stand still. Janine Benyus, in “Northwoods Wildlife” writes, “The cholesterol level of a hibernating bear is twice its normal level, and yet they don’t develop hardening of the arteries or gallstones. In fact, they produce a bile juice that seems to dissolve gallstones, even in the human patients it has been tested on! By the same token, the urea that would poison most mammals (including us) doesn’t harm bears [bears do not urinate while in hibernation.] They break it down and use it to build protein, an adaptation that helps them maintain organ and muscle tissue during the long sleep.”
Before entering hibernation, bears put on large amounts of weight. Biologists note that a bear can 11 to 18 pounds of food a day. Bears are great opportunists and know what is ripe and capitalize on these foods, especially berries, hazel nuts, and acorns. Bears will travel great distances to get to locations where these crops grow in abundance and cram as much of these foods down as possible. I know bear hunters that have put down foods such as prime rib and candied apples at baits to attract bears yet when the acorns are in season, most bears will turn their noses up at these seemingly attractive baits and focus on acorns. Bears know what foods have the highest nutritional value and it’s natural foods.
Bears also have the ability to pass on learned traits. When the common method of hunting bears began – hunting over bait – it seemed quite effective. Today, this is no longer the case. Bears have learned and sows have passed on this acquired, or learned, ability to not approach baits till after dark, when the hunter is gone and the coast is clear. I know of numerous instances where hunters have placed timing devices at there baits to find out what time the bears are coming in and almost without fail, the bears come in a half hour to hour after sunset. The bear just hangs out till its dark enough to cause the hunter to leave.
Prior to around the mid 1970’s, bears were considered vermin and could be killed with impunity and seeing a black bear was a rare sight. It was at this time that the bear was given big game status and makwa began to re-populate his home turf. Now makwa, although he is rather elusive and not seen with regularity, has made a comeback. Makwa – brother bear has reclaimed his rightful place in the forests of North America.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Story of Donehogawa (Ely Parker) – The First Indian Commissioner of Indian Affairs
In a often copied painting of the surrender of the Confederate Army at Appomattox there is General Grant and General Lee sitting at their desks and in the background is a half dozen or more Union officers lining the wall and looking on. I noted that one of these Union officers is clearly an Indian. Who is he and what is he doing here?
The answer to my question turns out to be a most interesting story. The man pictured is a Seneca Iroquois; Donehogawa, Keeper of the Western Door of the Long House of the Iroquois. He was born and raised on the Tonawanda reservation in New York and known as a boy by the name, Hasanoanda of the Seneca. Ambition caused Hasanoanda to change his name to Ely Parker as he realized that whites would not take him seriously with an Anglo name.
In his youth, working as a stable boy at an Army post, he endured racism and harassment over his poor command of the English language. He enrolled himself at a missionary school where he developed an excellent command of language and began working for a New York law firm where his goal was to become a lawyer, which he thought was the most suitable profession in which he could help his people. After a successful three years with the law firm he applied for admission to the bar. He was refused. Indians need not apply. This did not dampen Donehogawa’s determination. He researched what white profession he could pursue without encountering a closed door and found engineering the way to go. He entered Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and not only mastered but excelled at all courses in civil engineering. His first job was working on the Erie Canal. By the time he was 29 the United States government enlisted him to supervise the construction of levees and buildings. In 1860 he found himself working in Galena, Illinois where he met and became friends with a disgraced and former Army captain by the name of Ulysses S. Grant.
In 1861 when the Civil War began, Ely Parker returned to New York to raise a regiment of Iroquois Indians to fight for the Union but was turned down by the Governor. Parker then unsuccessfully tried to enter the Union as an engineer and was again refused because of his race. He was told this was a “white man’s war” and “go home, cultivate your farm, and we will settle our troubles without any Indian aid.”
The government refusals did not stop Parker, he let his friend, U.S. Grant know of the denials. Grant sorely needed engineers and after episodes of red tape with the Union Army, Grant sent orders for his Indian friend to join him in the Vicksburg campaign. Lieutenant Colonel Ely Samuel Parker would remain a close aid to Grant through the Vicksburg campaign, Chattanooga, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, the siege of Petersburg, and finally at Appomattox.
The painting that I previously mentioned of the peace being made at Appomattox in which there was a line of Union officers over-seeing the writing and signing of the peace terms of the bloodiest war ever waged in the western hemisphere (620,000 killed – more than all the other wars fought by this country combined,) were Orville Babcock, Phil Sheridan, Seth Williams, John Rawlins, Horace Porter, and Ely Parker.
When General Grant finished the hand written surrender document he said, “When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no mistaking it.”
Grant then called his senior adjutant to copy the letter but he said, “too nervous.” Grant then “called Colonel Parker…to his side and looked it over with him and directed him as they went along to interline six or seven words and to strike the word ‘their’ which had been repeated …he handed the book to General Lee and asked him to read over the letter.” Parkers excellent hand writing spelled out the terms of peace.
After all was said, signed, and agreed upon, there was a hand shaking ceremony. As Lee was going down the line and greeting the Union officers, he came to the Indian, Colonel Parker and hesitated. Parker said, “After Lee had stared at me for a moment, he extended his hand and said, ‘I am glad to see one real American here.’ I shook his hand and said, ‘We are all Americans.”
Jumping ahead to the late 1860’s – Red Cloud’s Dakota warriors had won a war with the whites. The second greatest defeat to any American army came at the hands of Dakota and Cheyenne’s at Fort Kearney where they wiped out an entire unit of 81 men led by Captain Fetterman. Crazy Horse had led and designed the ambush. The Powder River forts along the Bozeman trail were burned by the Indians and Red Cloud signed a treaty in which he was told that he and his people could stay and hunt the Powder River country rather than move to a reservation far to the east on the Missouri River where game was scarce. The whites said they’d stay out of the Dakota lands and let them be at peace.
Red Cloud began to hear rumors that he’d have to go the Missouri River to trade and that eventually they too would have to permanently move too. Red Cloud began to suspect the obvious, that being that he was not told all that the white man’s pen had written on the paper that he touched his pen to. Corresponding to approximate same period of time, a massacre of an undefended Blackfoot village took place. A report of the facts as they relate to this massacre was submitted by a young officer, Lt. William Pease, jeopardizing his own career in doing so. This report went to the new commissioner, Ely Parker. Parker demanded an immediate investigation by government authorities.
When Grant was elected a President, he chose Parker to be his head of Indian Affairs, believing that an Indian could do a better job than a white. Parker cleaned house of the entrenched, corrupt bureaucrats holding offices in the Indian Affairs offices. Religious institutions were solicited for new agents and many Quakers stepped forward, so many that the new plan became known as the “Quaker policy” or the “peace policy.” Donehogawa also appointed a citizens watch dog group, made up of both whites and Indians, to over see the Bureau of Indian Affairs but no Indians with political pull could be found so it became all whites.
Parker knew that war would break out again if he did not act. He sent word to Red Cloud that he wished him to come to Washington if Red Cloud so wished. There was no demand, only a suggestion to Red Cloud which proved a very sagacious manner in which Parker handled the situation in which to get the great Dakota chief to Washington. A special military escort was provided for the several dozen Indians making the trip. When in Washington, Parker did not act as someone telling the Indians what was to be; rather he asked to hear to hear what they had to say of themselves.
After a tour of Washington and all its extraordinary sites, Parker asked them to pose for the famous photographer, Matthew Brady. He recognized that the Indians were uncomfortable in the white man’s clothing they were wearing and suggested that they put on their native dress for both the photo session and dinner at the White House with President Grant.
Ely Parker was in an extremely tough spot to be, between representing the desires of Red Cloud and his people and a bunch of politicians who firmly believe in Manifest Destiny – the notion that white people and their way of life were ordained by God to take all the Red Man’s land and that the Indian was doomed to extinction. He knew that Red Cloud had been deceived. He knew that the Fort Laramie treaty that Red Cloud had signed had not been fully read or explained to Red Cloud. Ely Parker met with the President that night and came up with a partial solution for the Dakota. Although the treaty stated that the hunting grounds were outside the Reservation, and the reservation was where they had to reside, Parker and Grant conceded that Red Cloud and his people could live and hunt on their beloved Powder River country. Red Cloud had won again but his time, instead of Crazy Horse or another Dakota warrior at his side; it was an Iroquois warrior,
Donehongawa.
While in New York, Red Cloud spoke to a large audience at the Cooper Institute and got a rousing ovation. “For the first time he had an opportunity to talk to the people instead of government officials.” Red Cloud spoke, “We want to keep peace, will you help us? In 1868 men came out and brought papers. We could not read them, and they did not tell us truly what was in them. We thought the treaty was to remove the forts, and that we should cease from fighting. But they wanted to send us traders on the Missouri. We did not want to go to the Missouri, but wanted traders where we were. When I reached Washington the Great Father explained to me what the treaty was, and showed me that the interpreters had deceived me. All I want is right and just. I have tried to get from the Great Father what is right and just. I have not altogether succeeded.”
When Red Cloud returned home with a partial victory he found that things had not changed in the west. The same developers, ranchers, and land seekers were vigorously opposing the Dakota occupation on these rich and desirable lands.
Things for Ely Parker took a turn for the worse after Red Cloud’s departure. Mining interests turned on him for his opposition to a mining venture known as the Bighorn Mining Expedition and his reforms had created powerful enemies of the Indian Bureau as a cash cow.
In 1870 an attempt was made by Parker’s enemies to withhold food and annuity payments to the Indians and in result, embarrass him. Parker tried to circumvent this ploy by payment for these necessities in credit which in doing so, was used by his enemies to portray it as a scandal.
A legislative committee was established to investigate Parker and his re-structured Bureau of Indian Affairs but no wrong doing could be found. Parker considered what to do next. He decided to resign as his continuing as chief of Indian Affairs would be crippled and he would be an embarrassment to his close friend President Grant.
When Parker left office, he went to New York and made a fortune. He lived out the rest of his life removed from the corrupt political affairs of Washington, unable to deal anymore with the bigotry of the white ruling class.
“The whites told only one side. Told it to please themselves. Told much that is not true. Only his own best deeds, only the worst deeds of the Indians, has the white man told.” Yellow Wolf of the Nez Perce
The material for this essay came from:
To Appomattox - Burke Davis
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee - Dee Brown
Crossroads of Freedom-Antietam - James McPherson
In a often copied painting of the surrender of the Confederate Army at Appomattox there is General Grant and General Lee sitting at their desks and in the background is a half dozen or more Union officers lining the wall and looking on. I noted that one of these Union officers is clearly an Indian. Who is he and what is he doing here?
The answer to my question turns out to be a most interesting story. The man pictured is a Seneca Iroquois; Donehogawa, Keeper of the Western Door of the Long House of the Iroquois. He was born and raised on the Tonawanda reservation in New York and known as a boy by the name, Hasanoanda of the Seneca. Ambition caused Hasanoanda to change his name to Ely Parker as he realized that whites would not take him seriously with an Anglo name.
In his youth, working as a stable boy at an Army post, he endured racism and harassment over his poor command of the English language. He enrolled himself at a missionary school where he developed an excellent command of language and began working for a New York law firm where his goal was to become a lawyer, which he thought was the most suitable profession in which he could help his people. After a successful three years with the law firm he applied for admission to the bar. He was refused. Indians need not apply. This did not dampen Donehogawa’s determination. He researched what white profession he could pursue without encountering a closed door and found engineering the way to go. He entered Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute and not only mastered but excelled at all courses in civil engineering. His first job was working on the Erie Canal. By the time he was 29 the United States government enlisted him to supervise the construction of levees and buildings. In 1860 he found himself working in Galena, Illinois where he met and became friends with a disgraced and former Army captain by the name of Ulysses S. Grant.
In 1861 when the Civil War began, Ely Parker returned to New York to raise a regiment of Iroquois Indians to fight for the Union but was turned down by the Governor. Parker then unsuccessfully tried to enter the Union as an engineer and was again refused because of his race. He was told this was a “white man’s war” and “go home, cultivate your farm, and we will settle our troubles without any Indian aid.”
The government refusals did not stop Parker, he let his friend, U.S. Grant know of the denials. Grant sorely needed engineers and after episodes of red tape with the Union Army, Grant sent orders for his Indian friend to join him in the Vicksburg campaign. Lieutenant Colonel Ely Samuel Parker would remain a close aid to Grant through the Vicksburg campaign, Chattanooga, The Wilderness, Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, the siege of Petersburg, and finally at Appomattox.
The painting that I previously mentioned of the peace being made at Appomattox in which there was a line of Union officers over-seeing the writing and signing of the peace terms of the bloodiest war ever waged in the western hemisphere (620,000 killed – more than all the other wars fought by this country combined,) were Orville Babcock, Phil Sheridan, Seth Williams, John Rawlins, Horace Porter, and Ely Parker.
When General Grant finished the hand written surrender document he said, “When I put my pen to the paper I did not know the first word that I should make use of in writing the terms. I only knew what was in my mind, and I wished to express it clearly, so that there could be no mistaking it.”
Grant then called his senior adjutant to copy the letter but he said, “too nervous.” Grant then “called Colonel Parker…to his side and looked it over with him and directed him as they went along to interline six or seven words and to strike the word ‘their’ which had been repeated …he handed the book to General Lee and asked him to read over the letter.” Parkers excellent hand writing spelled out the terms of peace.
After all was said, signed, and agreed upon, there was a hand shaking ceremony. As Lee was going down the line and greeting the Union officers, he came to the Indian, Colonel Parker and hesitated. Parker said, “After Lee had stared at me for a moment, he extended his hand and said, ‘I am glad to see one real American here.’ I shook his hand and said, ‘We are all Americans.”
Jumping ahead to the late 1860’s – Red Cloud’s Dakota warriors had won a war with the whites. The second greatest defeat to any American army came at the hands of Dakota and Cheyenne’s at Fort Kearney where they wiped out an entire unit of 81 men led by Captain Fetterman. Crazy Horse had led and designed the ambush. The Powder River forts along the Bozeman trail were burned by the Indians and Red Cloud signed a treaty in which he was told that he and his people could stay and hunt the Powder River country rather than move to a reservation far to the east on the Missouri River where game was scarce. The whites said they’d stay out of the Dakota lands and let them be at peace.
Red Cloud began to hear rumors that he’d have to go the Missouri River to trade and that eventually they too would have to permanently move too. Red Cloud began to suspect the obvious, that being that he was not told all that the white man’s pen had written on the paper that he touched his pen to. Corresponding to approximate same period of time, a massacre of an undefended Blackfoot village took place. A report of the facts as they relate to this massacre was submitted by a young officer, Lt. William Pease, jeopardizing his own career in doing so. This report went to the new commissioner, Ely Parker. Parker demanded an immediate investigation by government authorities.
When Grant was elected a President, he chose Parker to be his head of Indian Affairs, believing that an Indian could do a better job than a white. Parker cleaned house of the entrenched, corrupt bureaucrats holding offices in the Indian Affairs offices. Religious institutions were solicited for new agents and many Quakers stepped forward, so many that the new plan became known as the “Quaker policy” or the “peace policy.” Donehogawa also appointed a citizens watch dog group, made up of both whites and Indians, to over see the Bureau of Indian Affairs but no Indians with political pull could be found so it became all whites.
Parker knew that war would break out again if he did not act. He sent word to Red Cloud that he wished him to come to Washington if Red Cloud so wished. There was no demand, only a suggestion to Red Cloud which proved a very sagacious manner in which Parker handled the situation in which to get the great Dakota chief to Washington. A special military escort was provided for the several dozen Indians making the trip. When in Washington, Parker did not act as someone telling the Indians what was to be; rather he asked to hear to hear what they had to say of themselves.
After a tour of Washington and all its extraordinary sites, Parker asked them to pose for the famous photographer, Matthew Brady. He recognized that the Indians were uncomfortable in the white man’s clothing they were wearing and suggested that they put on their native dress for both the photo session and dinner at the White House with President Grant.
Ely Parker was in an extremely tough spot to be, between representing the desires of Red Cloud and his people and a bunch of politicians who firmly believe in Manifest Destiny – the notion that white people and their way of life were ordained by God to take all the Red Man’s land and that the Indian was doomed to extinction. He knew that Red Cloud had been deceived. He knew that the Fort Laramie treaty that Red Cloud had signed had not been fully read or explained to Red Cloud. Ely Parker met with the President that night and came up with a partial solution for the Dakota. Although the treaty stated that the hunting grounds were outside the Reservation, and the reservation was where they had to reside, Parker and Grant conceded that Red Cloud and his people could live and hunt on their beloved Powder River country. Red Cloud had won again but his time, instead of Crazy Horse or another Dakota warrior at his side; it was an Iroquois warrior,
Donehongawa.
While in New York, Red Cloud spoke to a large audience at the Cooper Institute and got a rousing ovation. “For the first time he had an opportunity to talk to the people instead of government officials.” Red Cloud spoke, “We want to keep peace, will you help us? In 1868 men came out and brought papers. We could not read them, and they did not tell us truly what was in them. We thought the treaty was to remove the forts, and that we should cease from fighting. But they wanted to send us traders on the Missouri. We did not want to go to the Missouri, but wanted traders where we were. When I reached Washington the Great Father explained to me what the treaty was, and showed me that the interpreters had deceived me. All I want is right and just. I have tried to get from the Great Father what is right and just. I have not altogether succeeded.”
When Red Cloud returned home with a partial victory he found that things had not changed in the west. The same developers, ranchers, and land seekers were vigorously opposing the Dakota occupation on these rich and desirable lands.
Things for Ely Parker took a turn for the worse after Red Cloud’s departure. Mining interests turned on him for his opposition to a mining venture known as the Bighorn Mining Expedition and his reforms had created powerful enemies of the Indian Bureau as a cash cow.
In 1870 an attempt was made by Parker’s enemies to withhold food and annuity payments to the Indians and in result, embarrass him. Parker tried to circumvent this ploy by payment for these necessities in credit which in doing so, was used by his enemies to portray it as a scandal.
A legislative committee was established to investigate Parker and his re-structured Bureau of Indian Affairs but no wrong doing could be found. Parker considered what to do next. He decided to resign as his continuing as chief of Indian Affairs would be crippled and he would be an embarrassment to his close friend President Grant.
When Parker left office, he went to New York and made a fortune. He lived out the rest of his life removed from the corrupt political affairs of Washington, unable to deal anymore with the bigotry of the white ruling class.
“The whites told only one side. Told it to please themselves. Told much that is not true. Only his own best deeds, only the worst deeds of the Indians, has the white man told.” Yellow Wolf of the Nez Perce
The material for this essay came from:
To Appomattox - Burke Davis
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee - Dee Brown
Crossroads of Freedom-Antietam - James McPherson
Fox Sparrow Sparrows and their Brethren
Beginning in March and continuing into May and again in September, continuing through November, large masses of ‘little brown birds’ are migrating. These little brown birds provide a spectacle unrivaled in the bird kingdom but often go unnoticed by those who look skyward for more ostentatious members of the feathered tribes.
I once had a bear hunter ask me what kind of birds are those that congregate around his bait. I asked for a description of which he replied; “little brown birds.” My reply was that there are hundreds of pages in any bird field guide of “little brown birds.” It seems that the white hunter culture in this country find it beneath their dignity to know these ‘little brown birds.’ As an avid hunter myself, I feel like Aldo Leopold, that being familiar with all life forms, from micro-organisms in the soil to the birds in the lofty canopies is a source of inspiration, wonder, and education concerning the creatures that teach me the ways of the real world - the foundation of all that supports life.
The great Crow Warrior and Chief, Plenty-Coups, in his vision quest did not see the Grizzly, Wolverine, or Wolf as his life guide, the Chickadee became his “spirit guide.” The Chickadee was his guide for the fact that if such a small, seemingly insignificant bird can survive and flourish amongst all the more imposing creatures of its world, then it must have supreme intelligence and survival abilities. As a hunter, I find it short-sighted and ignorant to see just ‘game animals’ as having any value in nature. If a great Crow Warrior can emulate the tiny Chickadee, I see no effeminate characteristics in doing the same. Having the ability to recognize the value in nongame species makes the natural world interesting twelve months a year.
My woods is a stopping over area for Juncos, Tree Sparrows, Fox Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Swamp Sparrows, White-Throated Sparrows, White-Crowned Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows, Harris Sparrows, and more. Some stay and breed but most are on their way further north but not before spending several weeks or more fattening up on seeds and other vegetation on the ground or the millet and cracked corn I spread around my yard. All the sparrow species I find of interest but the one that I most enjoy is the Fox Sparrow.
The Fox Sparrow is one of the larger sparrows. He has a reddish fox colored tail, rump, and back contrasts with his white breast that is spectacled with spots and is highlighted with a large central breast spot. The Fox Sparrow does not stick around but proceeds on to the far north. His melodious song is infrequently heard here as it is saved till he arrives on his breeding ground. He aggressively scratches the ground, like a little chicken, for seeds and other vegetation. When walking through the woods this time of the year, the ground will look like someone went through the country with a small de-thatcher. This is from the vigorous scratching by thousands of Fox Sparrows. Mr. Fox Sparrow is the most territorial and aggressive of all the sparrows. Watch some for just a brief time and you will recognize that each Fox Sparrow is within an invisible circle, which he defends against any trespassing Fox Sparrow. When a neighbor gets too close, they will both jump up and kick and scratch at one another like a pair of fighting cocks. If a Junco or another breed of sparrow crosses this line, Mr. Fox Sparrow does not become so confrontational.
The migration of the vast flocks of sparrows does not involve any singularity but comprises self contained moving ecosystems. A good example of this is the Sharp-Shinned Hawk – a smallish member of the accipiter group of raptors and often referred to as the “blue darter.” This little fierce hawk is a close associate of the migrating bands of sparrows, preying on them with impunity. Always, the Sharp-Shins are seen in greatest concentrations while following the vast numbers of Juncos and other sparrows. Many times I have been watching these flocks of sparrows through my binoculars, ground feeding, when a blur will be seen in my sight as this little hawk will fly off with a Junco or Fox Sparrow in his talons. During these times of migration, sparrows must be the primary source of prey for the ‘blue darter.’
Soon, all will move on and pair off, defending territory, breeding, raising their off spring, fattening themselves for another miracle of migration, and stopping over for a brief time so I can enjoy their lust for life. So good luck Fox Sparrow till we meet again this autumn.
“We need another and wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they moved finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.” …Henry Beston
Beginning in March and continuing into May and again in September, continuing through November, large masses of ‘little brown birds’ are migrating. These little brown birds provide a spectacle unrivaled in the bird kingdom but often go unnoticed by those who look skyward for more ostentatious members of the feathered tribes.
I once had a bear hunter ask me what kind of birds are those that congregate around his bait. I asked for a description of which he replied; “little brown birds.” My reply was that there are hundreds of pages in any bird field guide of “little brown birds.” It seems that the white hunter culture in this country find it beneath their dignity to know these ‘little brown birds.’ As an avid hunter myself, I feel like Aldo Leopold, that being familiar with all life forms, from micro-organisms in the soil to the birds in the lofty canopies is a source of inspiration, wonder, and education concerning the creatures that teach me the ways of the real world - the foundation of all that supports life.
The great Crow Warrior and Chief, Plenty-Coups, in his vision quest did not see the Grizzly, Wolverine, or Wolf as his life guide, the Chickadee became his “spirit guide.” The Chickadee was his guide for the fact that if such a small, seemingly insignificant bird can survive and flourish amongst all the more imposing creatures of its world, then it must have supreme intelligence and survival abilities. As a hunter, I find it short-sighted and ignorant to see just ‘game animals’ as having any value in nature. If a great Crow Warrior can emulate the tiny Chickadee, I see no effeminate characteristics in doing the same. Having the ability to recognize the value in nongame species makes the natural world interesting twelve months a year.
My woods is a stopping over area for Juncos, Tree Sparrows, Fox Sparrows, Song Sparrows, Swamp Sparrows, White-Throated Sparrows, White-Crowned Sparrows, Chipping Sparrows, Harris Sparrows, and more. Some stay and breed but most are on their way further north but not before spending several weeks or more fattening up on seeds and other vegetation on the ground or the millet and cracked corn I spread around my yard. All the sparrow species I find of interest but the one that I most enjoy is the Fox Sparrow.
The Fox Sparrow is one of the larger sparrows. He has a reddish fox colored tail, rump, and back contrasts with his white breast that is spectacled with spots and is highlighted with a large central breast spot. The Fox Sparrow does not stick around but proceeds on to the far north. His melodious song is infrequently heard here as it is saved till he arrives on his breeding ground. He aggressively scratches the ground, like a little chicken, for seeds and other vegetation. When walking through the woods this time of the year, the ground will look like someone went through the country with a small de-thatcher. This is from the vigorous scratching by thousands of Fox Sparrows. Mr. Fox Sparrow is the most territorial and aggressive of all the sparrows. Watch some for just a brief time and you will recognize that each Fox Sparrow is within an invisible circle, which he defends against any trespassing Fox Sparrow. When a neighbor gets too close, they will both jump up and kick and scratch at one another like a pair of fighting cocks. If a Junco or another breed of sparrow crosses this line, Mr. Fox Sparrow does not become so confrontational.
The migration of the vast flocks of sparrows does not involve any singularity but comprises self contained moving ecosystems. A good example of this is the Sharp-Shinned Hawk – a smallish member of the accipiter group of raptors and often referred to as the “blue darter.” This little fierce hawk is a close associate of the migrating bands of sparrows, preying on them with impunity. Always, the Sharp-Shins are seen in greatest concentrations while following the vast numbers of Juncos and other sparrows. Many times I have been watching these flocks of sparrows through my binoculars, ground feeding, when a blur will be seen in my sight as this little hawk will fly off with a Junco or Fox Sparrow in his talons. During these times of migration, sparrows must be the primary source of prey for the ‘blue darter.’
Soon, all will move on and pair off, defending territory, breeding, raising their off spring, fattening themselves for another miracle of migration, and stopping over for a brief time so I can enjoy their lust for life. So good luck Fox Sparrow till we meet again this autumn.
“We need another and wiser and perhaps a more mystical concept of animals. Remote from universal nature, and living by complicated artifice, man in civilization surveys the creature through the glass of his knowledge and sees thereby a feather magnified and the whole image in distortion. We patronize them for their incompleteness, for their tragic fate of having taken form so far below ourselves. And therein we err, and greatly err. For the animal shall not be measured by man. In a world older and more complete than ours they moved finished and complete, gifted with extensions of the senses we have lost or never attained, living by voices we shall never hear. They are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time, fellow prisoners of the splendour and travail of the earth.” …Henry Beston
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Omakakii, Our Ancient Protector
“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: ‘What good is it?’ If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.” Aldo Leopold “Round River”
Spring came early to northern Minnesota this year. It was on April 4th when I heard my first wood frog or Rana sylvatica, whose calling sounds like tens of thousands of pebbles clicking together in a wild cacophony near woodland wetlands. Generally, when I hear the first wood frog, I know that the maple sapping season is near its end. Once the wood frogs emerge in mass and start their singing, it is certain notice to sappers that the season is over. The ancient calling of frogs has deep primal meaning that far precedes mans existence on earth.
It is when the wood frog sings that I am reminded how ephemeral mankind’s existence is in relation to the many other joint tenants of earth. The calling and croaking of frogs is so primal that the dinosaurs listened to them. The first frogs appeared on earth 400 to 360 million years ago during the Devonian Period which was a part of the Paleozoic Era, an Era in which great explosions of life on earth were taking place. The dinosaurs evolved later during the Mesozoic Era – the Age of Reptiles - 248 million to 65 million years ago. Even the dinosaurs were new-comers to the frog’s world. So a frog chorus by a secluded pond on a spring evening is one of those often unnoticed miracles of life that enables us to listen to the ages. It is part of the great continuity and thread of life that traces its source back to some primal soupy pond of amino acids morphing into life three or four billion years ago.
There are numerous frog species to northern Minnesota but the wood frog is especially interesting as it seems particularly suited to our region. It is a handsome frog of which its most telling physical feature is its black mask across its eyes. Its range extends further north than any other amphibian or reptile in North America – extending north of the Arctic Circle. It has a unique strategy which allows it to survive the bitter cold winters. Like any other animal, it would freeze but the frog manufactures glucose, referred to as “cryoprotectant,” which is in essence an anti-freeze. Although the frogs cells freeze solid as any other animals would, the cryoprotectant prevents ice from forming between the cell walls thus preventing the expanding ice crystals from rupturing or damaging the cell walls. This increase of glucose, which is a form of sugar, is about 60 times greater than normal. This would cause a severe diabetic reaction in any other animal but has no negative effect on the wood frog. Who knows, maybe the wood frog is harboring a cure to human diabetes?
Upon awakening or thawing, the wood frog enters the nearest vernal pond or wetland and immediately breeds and lays its eggs which mature and hatch well before any other native frog. The wood frogs lay their eggs together in large masses. The eggs are dark in color and are imbedded in a thick mass of jelly which also enables them to survive cold wetlands which may still have ice present. The tadpoles can tolerate the cold and mature rapidly which allows them to leave the ponds which may dry up soon and also escape the predators of the ponds and wetlands. It should also be noted that the wood frog, besides being the first frog of the season, is also the last frog to go down in the autumn. I have heard the clicking and clacking of their call as late as the deer season in November.
The wood frog is aptly named as his habitat is the forest where he finds refuge in the leaf or needle liter of the forest floor but he is never far from the pond. I have placed a plastic frog pond in a semi-shady spot in my garden. It has become a gathering place for wood frogs in the warm summer days. Often I will see as many as a dozen sitting within a foot of my frog pond hunting insects.
The frog, or Omakakii, is a critter who gives warning, not by voicing alarm but by its silence. Many times I have carefully approached my pond when the wood frogs have been in chorus but have all, in unison, become silent when I, or any other creature, approach. It is their silence that is a warning to all that something is approaching. Listen for their silence, it is an unmistakable warning.
The next time you hear Omakakii, contemplate the many eons that this amazing animal has inhabited the earth and think of his sagacity by alerting the other inhabitants of potential danger in his world not through vocalizing but by silence. And be cognizant of the mysteries of Omakakii… the many that are beyond our comprehension.
“Neither in body nor in mind do we inhabit the world of those hunting races of the Paleolithic era, to whose lives and life ways we nevertheless owe the very forms of our bodies and structures of our minds. Memories of their animal envoys still must sleep somehow within us; for they wake a little and stir when we venture into wilderness.”
Joseph Campbell
“The last word in ignorance is the man who says of an animal or plant: ‘What good is it?’ If the land mechanism as a whole is good, then every part is good, whether we understand it or not. If the biota, in the course of aeons, has built something we like but do not understand, then who but a fool would discard seemingly useless parts? To keep every cog and wheel is the first precaution of intelligent tinkering.” Aldo Leopold “Round River”
Spring came early to northern Minnesota this year. It was on April 4th when I heard my first wood frog or Rana sylvatica, whose calling sounds like tens of thousands of pebbles clicking together in a wild cacophony near woodland wetlands. Generally, when I hear the first wood frog, I know that the maple sapping season is near its end. Once the wood frogs emerge in mass and start their singing, it is certain notice to sappers that the season is over. The ancient calling of frogs has deep primal meaning that far precedes mans existence on earth.
It is when the wood frog sings that I am reminded how ephemeral mankind’s existence is in relation to the many other joint tenants of earth. The calling and croaking of frogs is so primal that the dinosaurs listened to them. The first frogs appeared on earth 400 to 360 million years ago during the Devonian Period which was a part of the Paleozoic Era, an Era in which great explosions of life on earth were taking place. The dinosaurs evolved later during the Mesozoic Era – the Age of Reptiles - 248 million to 65 million years ago. Even the dinosaurs were new-comers to the frog’s world. So a frog chorus by a secluded pond on a spring evening is one of those often unnoticed miracles of life that enables us to listen to the ages. It is part of the great continuity and thread of life that traces its source back to some primal soupy pond of amino acids morphing into life three or four billion years ago.
There are numerous frog species to northern Minnesota but the wood frog is especially interesting as it seems particularly suited to our region. It is a handsome frog of which its most telling physical feature is its black mask across its eyes. Its range extends further north than any other amphibian or reptile in North America – extending north of the Arctic Circle. It has a unique strategy which allows it to survive the bitter cold winters. Like any other animal, it would freeze but the frog manufactures glucose, referred to as “cryoprotectant,” which is in essence an anti-freeze. Although the frogs cells freeze solid as any other animals would, the cryoprotectant prevents ice from forming between the cell walls thus preventing the expanding ice crystals from rupturing or damaging the cell walls. This increase of glucose, which is a form of sugar, is about 60 times greater than normal. This would cause a severe diabetic reaction in any other animal but has no negative effect on the wood frog. Who knows, maybe the wood frog is harboring a cure to human diabetes?
Upon awakening or thawing, the wood frog enters the nearest vernal pond or wetland and immediately breeds and lays its eggs which mature and hatch well before any other native frog. The wood frogs lay their eggs together in large masses. The eggs are dark in color and are imbedded in a thick mass of jelly which also enables them to survive cold wetlands which may still have ice present. The tadpoles can tolerate the cold and mature rapidly which allows them to leave the ponds which may dry up soon and also escape the predators of the ponds and wetlands. It should also be noted that the wood frog, besides being the first frog of the season, is also the last frog to go down in the autumn. I have heard the clicking and clacking of their call as late as the deer season in November.
The wood frog is aptly named as his habitat is the forest where he finds refuge in the leaf or needle liter of the forest floor but he is never far from the pond. I have placed a plastic frog pond in a semi-shady spot in my garden. It has become a gathering place for wood frogs in the warm summer days. Often I will see as many as a dozen sitting within a foot of my frog pond hunting insects.
The frog, or Omakakii, is a critter who gives warning, not by voicing alarm but by its silence. Many times I have carefully approached my pond when the wood frogs have been in chorus but have all, in unison, become silent when I, or any other creature, approach. It is their silence that is a warning to all that something is approaching. Listen for their silence, it is an unmistakable warning.
The next time you hear Omakakii, contemplate the many eons that this amazing animal has inhabited the earth and think of his sagacity by alerting the other inhabitants of potential danger in his world not through vocalizing but by silence. And be cognizant of the mysteries of Omakakii… the many that are beyond our comprehension.
“Neither in body nor in mind do we inhabit the world of those hunting races of the Paleolithic era, to whose lives and life ways we nevertheless owe the very forms of our bodies and structures of our minds. Memories of their animal envoys still must sleep somehow within us; for they wake a little and stir when we venture into wilderness.”
Joseph Campbell
Monday, April 5, 2010
Mother Earths New Year
Traditional Anishinabe see the first sap run in the sugar maple as the beginning of the New Year –a renewal and covenant with life after a harsh winter in the northland. It is a special time for one who has worked his sugar bush. Being out in a stand of northern hardwoods after a tough northern Minnesota winter, one is cognizant of an awakening in the earth and pleased to see the arrival of another season and opportunity to make the most enjoyable natural sugar known to us in the northland. The first taste of maple syrup, done over a wood burning evaporator is truly something to savor. Even an old white man like me gives thanks to Muzzu-kummik-quae (Mother Earth) for this gift.
Generally in northern Minnesota, the first taps go out sometime in March and by early April the taps begin to run good. My stand of maples are mixed within a diverse group of other northern hardwoods and the real work of collecting sap and boiling it down begins in April but the unusual early spring this year moved the sap run up by three weeks.
The first sap to run has lower sugar content. The sugar content or water ratio to sugar increase as the season advances. The first sap is around 50 to 1, water to sugar. As the season progresses, the content of sugar rises to around 28 to 1 and then diminishes as the season tails off. The highest sugar content that I have experienced was in 2007 when it peaked at 22 to 1. This ratio may seem incredibly low but the sugar maple has the highest concentration of sugar of any tree known to man.
What causes this? It begins with the onset of winter which stops the sap flow. Left standing in the trunk of the tree, sugar and other minerals from the surrounding wood become dissolved in the sap. The process of sap dissolving sugar and other nutrients is temporary hence the limited time span of the sugar season. Springtime’s warm and sunny days combined with frosty nights, act as a pump to raise stored nutrients from the roots and get the sap moving. If the temperatures stay above freezing or below freezing around the clock, the sap will not flow adequately.
The natural and unprocessed sugar provided by this magnificent tree not only yields the sweetness of our land but contains high quantities of minerals, trace elements, and amino acids. Besides an addition to our physical health, the trees leafs that display brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges in the autumn, enrich the soil with lime upon decomposition, further enriching the earth for other lime loving plants and micro organisms. The prolific and abundant seed production provide a valuable food source for deer, bear, squirrels, mice, birds, and a host of other animal life. The finished wood from this tree is very hard and exceedingly beautiful.
The sugar maple represents a true hardwood climax forest, surviving long periods as seedlings under the shade of oaks or other hardwoods, waiting for an opening in the canopy to develop, which allows them to shoot for the sky and form wide spreading crowns. Once the canopy is composed of mature sugar maples, they will form the densest of canopies, where only their own seedlings will survive below.
Tapping trees needs to be done with some thought and concern. Tapping a sugar maple can remove fifteen percent of the stored carbohydrate reserves – it doesn’t do the tree any good. Think of it as a person giving blood. Maples are also particularly vulnerable to soil compact and air pollution. Trees that are too small – less than 12inches at chest height -should not be tapped nor should larger trees have excessive taps applied.
We are fortunate in north-central Minnesota to be at the northern limit of the sugar maple. They do not grow where the temperatures regularly dip below forty degrees below zero. Most of my trees show frost cracks, the result of these frigid cold nights.
Any tree of the maple family will yield sap with sugar; red maple, silver maple, and box elder. Birch and basswood are also tapped but the sugar content of all the above mentioned is far lower than the sugar maple. Some have an 80 or 90 to 1 ratio and do not match the wonderful maple flavor.
As the season of the sugar bush comes to an end, I am grateful to the Ojibway for handing down this tradition and have developed a higher appreciation of the sugar maple and it saddens me to read of maple tree decline in the east where pollution and climate change are the reasons given.
“Every tree like every man must decide for itself --- will it live in the alluring forest and struggle to the top where alone is sunlight or give up the fight and content itself with the shade.” Ernest Thompson Seton
Generally in northern Minnesota, the first taps go out sometime in March and by early April the taps begin to run good. My stand of maples are mixed within a diverse group of other northern hardwoods and the real work of collecting sap and boiling it down begins in April but the unusual early spring this year moved the sap run up by three weeks.
The first sap to run has lower sugar content. The sugar content or water ratio to sugar increase as the season advances. The first sap is around 50 to 1, water to sugar. As the season progresses, the content of sugar rises to around 28 to 1 and then diminishes as the season tails off. The highest sugar content that I have experienced was in 2007 when it peaked at 22 to 1. This ratio may seem incredibly low but the sugar maple has the highest concentration of sugar of any tree known to man.
What causes this? It begins with the onset of winter which stops the sap flow. Left standing in the trunk of the tree, sugar and other minerals from the surrounding wood become dissolved in the sap. The process of sap dissolving sugar and other nutrients is temporary hence the limited time span of the sugar season. Springtime’s warm and sunny days combined with frosty nights, act as a pump to raise stored nutrients from the roots and get the sap moving. If the temperatures stay above freezing or below freezing around the clock, the sap will not flow adequately.
The natural and unprocessed sugar provided by this magnificent tree not only yields the sweetness of our land but contains high quantities of minerals, trace elements, and amino acids. Besides an addition to our physical health, the trees leafs that display brilliant reds, yellows, and oranges in the autumn, enrich the soil with lime upon decomposition, further enriching the earth for other lime loving plants and micro organisms. The prolific and abundant seed production provide a valuable food source for deer, bear, squirrels, mice, birds, and a host of other animal life. The finished wood from this tree is very hard and exceedingly beautiful.
The sugar maple represents a true hardwood climax forest, surviving long periods as seedlings under the shade of oaks or other hardwoods, waiting for an opening in the canopy to develop, which allows them to shoot for the sky and form wide spreading crowns. Once the canopy is composed of mature sugar maples, they will form the densest of canopies, where only their own seedlings will survive below.
Tapping trees needs to be done with some thought and concern. Tapping a sugar maple can remove fifteen percent of the stored carbohydrate reserves – it doesn’t do the tree any good. Think of it as a person giving blood. Maples are also particularly vulnerable to soil compact and air pollution. Trees that are too small – less than 12inches at chest height -should not be tapped nor should larger trees have excessive taps applied.
We are fortunate in north-central Minnesota to be at the northern limit of the sugar maple. They do not grow where the temperatures regularly dip below forty degrees below zero. Most of my trees show frost cracks, the result of these frigid cold nights.
Any tree of the maple family will yield sap with sugar; red maple, silver maple, and box elder. Birch and basswood are also tapped but the sugar content of all the above mentioned is far lower than the sugar maple. Some have an 80 or 90 to 1 ratio and do not match the wonderful maple flavor.
As the season of the sugar bush comes to an end, I am grateful to the Ojibway for handing down this tradition and have developed a higher appreciation of the sugar maple and it saddens me to read of maple tree decline in the east where pollution and climate change are the reasons given.
“Every tree like every man must decide for itself --- will it live in the alluring forest and struggle to the top where alone is sunlight or give up the fight and content itself with the shade.” Ernest Thompson Seton
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