Name: William H. Blodgett Company: B
Wounded in battle August 18, 1862
Birth
Date: About 1841
Place: Unknown
Mustered In
Date: February 10,
1862
Rank: Private
Age: 21
Residence prior to
military service: Chatfield, Minnesota
Death
Date: August 23,
1910
Place: San Jose,
California
Burial: Oak Hill
Cemetery, 300 Curtner Ave., San Jose, Santa Clara County, California
(Sec. KK, Blk. 14)
Mustered Out
Date: October 24,
1863
Rank: Private
Age: 22-23
Residence following
military service: San Jose, California
William H. Blodgett Biography and
Civil
War Narrative
William H. Blodgett was born about
1841 and enlisted in Company B of the 5th Minnesota on February 10,
1862, as a Private. Being a member of Company B, he participated and
was
wounded in the Dakota Sioux conflicts at Fort Ridgely, Minnesota,
during the summer of 1862. On August 18th, word was
received at Fort Ridgely that a massacre of
whites was taking place at the Lower Sioux Agency. Company B's Captain
John S. Marsh, who had joined the Company on April 16, immediately
led
a rescue party of 46 men, including William Blodgett, and an
interpreter to the Lower Sioux Agency.
About three miles out of Fort Ridgely, the party was overtaken by
wagon teams who followed them, carrying extra ammunition and otherwise
empty
wagons. Picking
up the marching rescue party, the wagons continued on toward their
destination, passing fleeing citizens, burning houses, and mutilated
corpses. About six miles out of Fort Ridgley, the rescue team continued
on by foot. When the rescue party reached the Redwood ferry crossing on
the
Minnesota River shortly after noon, the Indians ambushed them from all
sides. Blodgett was hit by a bullet in the first round of shots fired
by the Indians.
The following account of wounded Blodgett's struggle back to Fort
Ridgely is taken from Recollections of
the Sioux Massacre by Oscar G. Wall, a fellow member of Company B
stationed at Fort Ridgely:
He was shot through the abdomen, the
bullet penetrating the intestines. He lay concealed from 2
o'clock in the afternoon until between 9 and 10 o'clock at night,
without aid, comfort, water, nourishment or the knowledge that a
soul of the command beside himself had survived the battle.
For
an hour after the engagement the savages were busy all about him,
scalping his fallen comrades, whose cries for mercy he heard, as
the cruel knife was applied, or as the deadly war-club fell upon
their heads. The savages were once within ten feet of him,
but a distracting quarrel between the Indians who were conducting
a search a few feet away, and which ended in a physical encounter
for the possession of a
gun, diverting their attention from
his concealment, no doubt made his escape possible. When the wild
orgies of the savages were at their height at nightfall on the
Agency side of the river, and when he felt sure the
Indian guards had been tempted to the exciting" scenes in
celebration of their awful deeds of blood, Blodgett arose, and
although in agony scarcely endurable, started down stream along
the river's bank, first having refreshed himself with a drink
of water, to make the Fort if possible. Man's endurance was never
put to a severer test. With no food since breakfast, without
water for hours and crazed with thirst, and the sufferer
from a wound almost invariably mortal these were the conditions
under which this young soldier, determined to reach his comrades,
set out in darkness, without path, guide or a knowledge of the
country, at times feeling that consuming pain would, in spite
of his endeavors, thwart his strong will.
After struggling along
for a few hours, during which he had made about three miles, he
found he could go no farther in the darkness through the vines
and brushwood which at every step seemed to be tearing his
wound open anew, and he lay down and rested as best he could
until morning, tortured unmercifully throughout the night by
swarms of mosquitoes. When daylight came he carefully picked
his way, at all times
keeping himself under cover of the
trees near the river, so as not to expose himself to the
Indians, in which manner he advanced about six miles before
nightfall. After the darkness came on he realized that he must
abandon all hope of saving himself, unless he could reach the
highway on the prairie uplands to the north of the river, as
his strength was too rapidly failing him to stem the jungle of
brush, brambles and tangled grass. He therefore resolved to cross
the bottom, climb the hill, and gain the highway if
possible, though he would thus be much more liable to disovery
by the savages. Having pushed along over the pathless ground in
the darkness of night for an hour, he reached the Fort road, and
started slowly on his way to the garrison.
When he arrived at the
Three-Mile House (three
miles from the Fort), he entered it,
and finding a match, lit it, and was in the act of searching for
something to eat or drink, when he was startled by a man's voice
on the outside, saying, " If there are any whites in
there, let them come out and go to the Fort, for I just passed
an Indian camp in the valley, only a short distance away."
Blodgett suspected this to be the ruse of an unfriendly
halfbreed, who was simply attempting to betray him into the
hands of the savages; but he could lose nothing by making
himself known, and stepping out, called in the darkness to the
unknown spokesman, who proved to be John Fanska, a German
of New Ulm, who had gone to the Agency on business just before
the massacre, who was frightfully wounded by an arrow which had
been fired into his back
during the outbreak at Redwood on
the 18th, and who had thrown a blanket over his head and escaped
to the timber near the river in the excitement. The arrow-head
had completely buried itself in his back, and reaching shelter,
writhing in agony, he attempted to withdraw the arrow, but
only made matters worse by breaking the shaft off where it was
attached to the cruel barb. But one thing could be worse than
this torture, and that would be to fall into the hands of the
savages. This greater dread made the sufferings of the wounded man
endurable, though
the point of the arrow-head had penetrated his right lung. Like
Blodgett, he had thus far eluded the Indians, and was
endeavoring to reach the garrison.
Blodgett, with his new-found
companion, reached Ft. Ridgely at 2 o'clock on the morning of
Wednesday, August 20th, thirty-six hours after receiving his
frightful wound still undressed, and with nothing to eat since
breakfast of Monday morning, covering a distance the way he
came, of fully eighteen or twenty miles. [Recollections of
the Sioux Massacre, Oscar
G. Wall, pp. 59-62]
William H. Blodgett survived his
wound and was mustered out of the Regiment on October 24, 1863.
He would move to California, living in San Jose in 1909. He died
August 23, 1910, and was buried in Oak Hill Cemetery, 300
Curtner Avenue, San Jose, Santa Clara County, California (Sec. KK, Blk.
14).
William H. Blodgett's Personal
Account of the Redwood Ferry Incident
and finding his way back to Fort
Ridgely
The following is recorded as an
extended footnote in Recollections of
the Sioux Massacre by Oscar G. Wall (pp. 63-76):
* * * * The
company at once fell into line, and 46 men were detailed to go with
Captain Marsh to the scene of disturbance, each man taking forty rounds
of ammunition. * * I was one of the 46 men to go with Captain Marsh.
Starting out, we were soon overtaken on the march by four mule teams.
We
got into the wagons and were hurried along. When out about eight miles
from the Fort we came to a house that had been fired by the savages.
Here we saw a murdered man lying by the roadside. We saw several more
dead bodies as we passed along. About two miles from the ferry (at the
Lower Agency), before going down th hill to the bottom land, we could
see mounted Indians pursuing parties on the other side of the river,
and in many cases they were overaken and slain. We descended to the
river valley, which was covered with a rank growth of grass and weeds.
On the left were some small thickets of wild plum and willow. On the
right were some trees and stumps. The river was a few rods from and
nearly parallel with the road we were on. As we approached the ferry
the river made a sharp turn and ran nearly east for a short distance.
Just at the turn a small creek came in, and the point of land between
the creek and river was covered by a thick growth of willows. While
going through this part of the road, it was thought best by some to
throw out skirmishers to learn if there was likely to be any trouble;
but Captain Marsh thought the Indians would not dare to molest the
soldiers, and that probably the disturbance was caused by a few Indians
who had by some means obtained liquor. As we approached the ferry,
which was on our side of the river at the time, we saw an Indian
dressed very gorgeously in feathers and war-paint.
He was standing on a log on the opposite side of the river. He at once
began talking with Mr. Quinn, the Interpreter, telling him to have the
soldiers come over and smoke the pipe of peace. Mr. Quinn said to the
Captain that the Indian was a chief named White Dog, and did not belong
there, and that he feared his band was also there, and that he feared
the trouble was general. He also advised the Captain not to venture on
the boat. While this conversation was going on, one of the men [John F.
Bishop--O. G. W.] went down to the river and dipped up water to pass to
the men in ranks. The water was roily, as though recently disturbed. He
mentioned to the Captain that he thought the Indians were crossing the
river above, and that they would cut off our chance of retreat. I was
standing second from the right of the company, in the front rank, and
on looking to the right saw several Indians moving on the point of land
between the creek and river. I at once told Orderly Sergeant Finley. At
that moment that terrible blood-curdling war-whoop of the Sioux, that
no white man has ever succeeded in imitating, was sounded. At the same
time White Dog discharged his gun and jumped back off the log. I felt a
sharp pain in my side and back, and began to sink down. I first thought
one of the boys had accidentally hit me with the butt of his gun. Then
I heard a general discharge of guns and a chorus of yells, and saw two
or three other boys fall. I put my hand to my side and found a
bullet-hole through me. I then tried to get up, but to do so was
obliged to take my cartridge-belt off. While lying on the bank of the
river many balls struck near me and threw sand in my face. I at last
succeeded in getting up. I started back along the road we had just come
in over. The grass seemed
to be full of Indians as I ran back. I ran into the ferryman's house.
While in there the balls pattered through the house and the window.
The building was deserted, and I saw it would not do to stay there, so
I ran out and across the road to the barn. Here I found Comrade John
Parks, lying badly wounded. I tried to help him up, but he could not
stand. As I could do him no good I ran on into the brush and tall
grass. I saw three of our
boys standing with their backs to a tree, each facing a different
direction, and shooting as fast as they could load their guns. I ran
toward them, intending to take the other quarter of the tree, thinking
it possible that four of us might be able to make a stand, but just as
I reached the tree the last one of them fell. I looked in the direction
from which I thought the balls had come, and saw an Indian in the act
of reloading his gun. I took a quick aim and fired, and had the
satisfaction of seeing him fall. I then loaded my gun from the
ammunition of Corporal Joseph Besse, and once more started for the
brush.
As I ran, Comrade Edwin F. Cole came into the path in front of me. I
told him to run faster. He said, "I cannot; I am wounded." I asked him
where, and he held out his
left hand, which appeared to be shattered. Lifting his left hand turned
him into a path to the left. I took the path to the right. Just then I
heard a racket in front. I dropped down and began crawling into the
grass. My feet were still in the path, when Ezekiel Rose, our fifer,
ran over my feet with two
Indians in hot pursuit, but by some means Rose escaped.
I then concluded to hide. I crawled under some wild morning-glory vines
and reached back and straightened up the grass. Just then I heard
Comrade Cole cry out as if in great pain, and heard two Indians laugh
and call him a squaw. He
continued to beg, so I concluded they were torturing him in some way.
At first I thought to get up and try to help him. Then reason came to
me, and I knew I could not save him, even if I gave my life for him.
While these thoughts were running through my head, I heard the most
sickening sound imaginable. It was a blow with a tomahawk, and poor
Cole was no more. Had I made a move in his defense it would have only
added one more to that awful slaughter. The Indians then lit their
pipes and sat down to smoke. I could distinctly smell their
"kinikanic." They could not have been more than ten or twelve feet from
me. They soon left, and all became quiet. * * *
The battle at the ferry
began at about 1:30 o'clock p. m., and lasted about 20 minutes. There
were 22 killed outright, and 5 were wounded who escaped and reached
Fort Ridgely between that time and 2 o'clock a. m. of the 20th.
* * * I lay concealed in the grass from near 2 o'clock p. m.
until dark. It was a very warm day (August 18th) and I suffered from
thirst. I could hear an
Indian boy or squaw occasionally, not far away, and knew it was not
safe to show myself. When it grew dark I attempted to get up, but was
so stiff and sore it was all I could do to rise, and I was obliged to
leave my gun in the grass. I started toward a small lake to get a
drink, but I was so sore and the ground was so uneven I moved with
great effort. My feet would catch in some vine or root and cause me to
stumble and almost fall, and every jar caused me great pain. I was
obliged to go very slow, and feel my way carefully. I at last succeeded
in reaching the lake. After quenching my thirst I concluded to lie down
and wait for daylight before attempting to go farther. The mosquitoes
were very troublesome all night. At times I think I must have lost my
reason. I could not sleep much, and would rouse up and find myself
talking to Jack Fauver of our company, who drove the ambulance, but who
of course was miles away, if alive. I would thank him for coming after
me, or ask him not to go and leave me. Then again I would keep still
and think I was hiding from the Indians. Morning came at last, and as
soon as it was light enough, I once more got up by the aid of a tree
and started for Fort Ridgely, which was still twelve miles distant. I
dared not go out into the open road, or show myself in the open grass
land, but kept in the brush. It was very slow, and hard work to get
along, so about the middle of the afternoon I ventured out into the
wild meadow, there havimg been no signs of Indians, and was getting
along better; but on looking around I saw four Indians. I was first
attracted to them by the tinkling of little bells on their ponies. They
were on the road on the hill, about a quarter of a mile away. They had
just passed a thicket, and come in sight of the open space I had
entered. I dropped into the grass, which was waist-high, and at once
ran to the lake, which was only a few yards distant. I jumped in and
swam along the bank until I found some overhanging brush and vines. I
crawled up under them and waited, for I was almost sure they had seen me. After waiting
some time and hearing nothing, I crawled up the bank, and this time I
kept out of sight. Soon after I saw the Indians going up the hill about
two miles away. Several times during the day I went into the river and
bathed my wound, which had become very troublesome, as I was obliged to
stoop and bend my body in order to get through the brush. I lay down
once near noon and slept about an hour. At about 5 P. M. there came up
a thundershower, and it rained nearly an hour. It then turned colder,
and I was very uncomfortable, with cold, hunger and a bad wound. I
found a few bunches of wild grapes which I ate. At dusk that night I
had covered but four miles, and now I was obliged to climb a high, hard
bluff. It was a hard undertaking, and three times I lay down and said I
could not make it, but after lying a while I got cold, and then would
say "well, if I do not try again I will surely die here," so I sought
another bush and pulled myself up once more, and gained a few yards. 1
could not get up on my feet without the aid of a bush, shrub, or
something to take hold of, to pull myself up by my hands.
After a long and very discouraging effort I reached the top of the
bluff. Here I saw a house which had been recently fired, and was still
burning brightly. I stood by a tree for some time but could not see
anyone moving, so concluded there were no Indians near. I passed the
burning house a little to the left, and gained the road to the Fort. It
must have been nearly nine o'clock, and I had nearly eight miles to go.
I was very hungry, as I had had nothing to eat since breakfast on
Monday morning, and it was now Tuesday night, but once in the road, I
was able to make better time. Once I heard the sound of hoofs
approaching me. I left the road a short distance and lay down in the
grass. As the objects came up over a
slight knoll I could see against the sky they were cattle. I waited
until they passed, and returning to the road continued on towards the
Fort. Near midnight, and when about three miles from the Fort, I came
to a house where we had often traded coffee and sugar for butter, eggs
and milk. I went to the door and knocked, but no answer came. I then
went to the back part of the house, got in through an open window and
found some matches. I lit one, and found everything in the house
upsidedown and in confusion. I then went into the pantry to get
something to eat if possible, but could find nothing but a piece of ham
bone, with very little meat on it, but what there was tasted good. I
was in the house only a few minutes when some one began pounding on the
door. I dared not move or answer. Presently a man came to the window
and asked if any one was iu the house. I knew by the voice that it was
some German, so I answered. He said: "We had better hurry on to the
Fort, as the Indians are coming." I got out. As we went along he told
me he had been shot in the right shoulder with an arrow, on the morning
of the first day of the outbreak at the Agency. He had hidden himself
in a haymow. He had pulled the shaft of the arrow loose, but had left
the steel point imbedded in his flesh, and the point of it was
penetrating his lung, and he spat blood. His name was John Fanska, and
his home was in New Ulm. He was at the Agency on business when the
Indians began the slaughter. He was very weak, and we had to rest
often. He could get up all right, and would stand and let me pull
myself up by taking hold of his clothes.
When we reached the picket post about half a mile out from the Fort, we
were challenged by one of the men on guard who happened to be one of
those who had escaped at the ferry on Monday. When I answered the
challenge and gave Kim my name, he said : "My God, it can't be, for I
saw Blodgett fall a second time." We were received, and taken
immediately to the hospital, and although it was 2 o'clock in the
morning of Wednesday, August 20th, Dr. Alfred Muller was still up, and
dressed our wounds, after first satisfying our hunger, it having been
forty hours since I had eaten. We were put to bed and I fell asleep
very soon. I was awakened by the sound of musketry, and therefore must
have slept until about 1:30 in the afternoon. Now I heard those
hideous yells again, and Little Crow had attacked the garrison with his
warriors.
* * * * When the firing began the Doctor, hospital steward and patient
made preparations to vacate the old log hospital back of the barracks,
and go over to the stone
quarters. As the others were leaving, I asked the hospital Steward to
help me dress, but he seemed to be in too much of a hurry to reach a
place of safety to help any one. I managed to get up and dress all but
putting on a hat, and started across the street. It was more difficult
for me to move after having lain down so long. I was obliged to go very
slow. While crossing the street or passageway between the log buildings
and the barracks, the bullets were flying past, and several times I
could feel the wind fan my cheeks. When I reached the stone building
I passed along the west end, and reached the south or front side of the
building. Here one of our boys helped me up the steps, and said "I
thought you would never get across that street." Several of our men
were wounded in this battle. * * *
During the first 24 hours I was in the Fort I was allowed to eat as the
others did, but after that, and for two weeks, my diet was rice-water
nothing more. Then I was allowed a morsel of more solid food the
quantity being gradually increased. The second morning after reaching
the Fort, and while dressing my wound, the Doctor removed some puss,
and mixed with it were some grape seeds, and particles of food escaped
from the wound in the side for fourteen days. The wound in the back,
where the ball came out, was very painful, and had to be cauterized
every morning. When I was shot, the ball entered between the two lower
ribs on the left side, and passed out near the spinal column on the
same side, making a wound about six inches long. This was said to be
the first case of its kind on record, and Dr. Alfred Muller made a full
report of the case, and it is on file in the Surgeon-General's office
at Washington, D. C.
William
H. Blodgett
