Interview with Elsie Hesse Blume. Interviewed by Patricia Pendleton Minnesota Historical Society

Transcription

1 Interview with Elsie Hesse Blume Interviewed by Patricia Pendleton Interviewed on December 1, 1989 at the home of Mrs. Blume in olivia, Minnesota We are honored to be visiting with you today, Mrs. Blume. While most of us are trying to remember things for tomorrow or what we did yesterday, Elsie Blume, aged ninety years, will recall the history and lifestyles that were part of her everyday living. She was born on January 18, 1899, within the Lower sioux Agency Stone House, where she resided for the first sixteen years of her life. Elsie, could I ask you what were your first memories of living in the Stone House? Well, I grew up there and went to school. Carl and Emily Knueppel Hesse were German immigrants who came to America and settled on a farm south of Morton. Their first child--a son, August--died when he was six months old and is buried in the cemetery by the Stone House. They were living on different farms and had two more children, Agnes ~nd Henry. But in the fall of 1898, they moved to the Stone House and on January 18, 1899, their fourth child--a girl, Elsie Louise Hesse--was born. The Stone House was built in 1861 and was used to store food, supplies and equipment for the Dakota people during the sioux uprising~ The Stone House was built of field rock--large and small, put together with cement. There were five rooms plus an attic and a wood shanty to the north. There was one big room that we used as a kitchen. The ceiling was nineteen feet from the floor. Then there was a small room, and on the south side was one long narrow room with only one window and a door. My parents used it as their bedroom. There were two large rooms upstairs and then the attic. There was a big space between the outside stone wall and the inside wall, so it was very cold in the winter and also very cool in the summer. My parents only had two stoves to heat 1

2 the house--an airtight heater in the front bedroom and a small iron cookstove standing on the south wall in the kitchen. Above the stove, in the ceiling, there was a small round hole for the heat to go upstairs. It was pretty cold upstairs. In the winter when it was very cold outside, if the edge of our bedding would touch the walls, it would freeze tight until it got warm again. So we had to watch out so the bedding didn't touch the wall. Of course, we were never cold after we got to bed. Our mother made a mattress of dry corn husks, and we slept on a feather bed and covered up with another feather bed. On cold winter mornings, my father got up early and built a fire in both stoves. So we really never were cold. As I grew up in the summer months, they were really happy times. One beautiful summer morning after my father had cultivated his corn all clean he said, "This is the day I will whitewash the kitchen walls." That was always a fun day. We carried all the furniture out of the house except the stove and cream separator. By the way, we did not have much furniture. My father bought some dry lime powder, mixed that with water, and then used a long cane fish pole. He tied a whitewash brush to the pole and whitewashed the ceiling first, which was nineteen feet from floor to ceiling, as I mentioned earlier. He was not very careful and splattered the woodwork and windows. The unpainted wood floor was white with lime. Well, my poor mother would use pail after pail of water to soak and clean the lime. But, oh, it was so clean and white and by night, we could move the furniture back. And that was done every year. I remember another summer, and we were outside. She toward the Stone House. inside and pray." my mother was home alone with us, watched a big black cloud coming She said, "Children, let's go We sat on the bed and prayed. It turned pitch dark, and a cyclone passed right over the Stone House towards the woods and lifted the cattle barn with the hayloft right off the foundation. It was just awful, but it never damaged the Stone House. My parents raised lots of livestock and milked lots of cows. They also separated the milk for cream. Every Saturday, 2

3 Mother would churn the cream and make butter to help supplement their income. She packed the butter in three and five pound crock jars, put them in the buggy box, and took them to the customers. The first stop was at the Indian reservation. She delivered butter to the Hineman School, to Reverend saint Clair, and then to Susan Salisbury at the Misson House. Sometimes, my mother took me along. I always enjoyed going to the Mission House and watch the Indian ladies make lace with the wooden spools wrapped with linen thread. They would twist and turn and stitch the pins to make the design. Miss Salisbury would send the lace to some big city. Then there was a dear old Indian lady, her name was Kuns'I. She was always there helping Miss Salisbury. Sometimes, Miss Salisbury would treat us to lunch. After that, my mother had more butter to deliver to customers in Morton. The Minneapolis and Saint Louis Railway train stopped at the Morton Hotel, and the engineer and conductor of the train bought two jars of butter to take to the city. Well, I have to bring this story to a close, but there is one more thing I would like to tell you about and that is the beautiful pasture below the Stone House hill. As I have told you, my parents had lots of cattle which would graze on top of the hill and also down below. The cows made a beautiful winding path down to the bottom of the hill. There was this nice green pasture there, as well as a big sandbar and the Minnesota River flowing towards the east. The sandbar was where the ferry landing was. In the 1800s, the early settlers used the ferry to cross the river to the north. There was no bridge yet. The ferry road is now west of the interpretive center. There were many beautiful wildflowers in the summer. I enjoyed picking some, and there were also wild strawberries I enjoyed eating. There were also lots of gooseberry bushes. We would pick pails and pails of gooseberries for my mother to can. I certainly enjoyed my childhood growing up in the Stone House. It made me very sad to see this beautiful old fort boarded up and everything destroyed inside. Maybe we could do something about it and restore it back to its natural beauty. 3

4 Elsie, you spoke of an airtight stove. What was your stove like? Well, an airtight is just a little bit of a stove. You can't build too hot a fire in that, otherwise the cover always blew up. In the kitchen we had a little iron stove- a little black iron stove and an oven on there. Oh, my mother would cook and bake and do so much cooking on that, you know. What were your mornings like when you got up? Well, my father would build the fire. When it was really cold, we went downstairs and dressed where it was warm, you know. Do you recall, Elsie, was that lean-to porch in the front of the house? No, it was to the north. Now, I'm speaking of nineteen foot ceilings--that's when we lived there. When my brotherin-law and my sister owned the house, they tore that off and built a different washroom. I remember that there was a little old shanty to the north, and sometimes in the summer it would leak and the rain would come in. My mother raised a lot of chickens, and we would even put chicken feed and stuff in there for storage in the summertime. Elsie, did you ever think of the history of that house? No, I never did. I never did. Did your folks ever talk about the history? No, I don't think so. It was such a good way of living. The ferry road--that was a beautiful road, you know. Years ago, they didn't have any bridges yet in the community. The ferry road was very good. My father always used it to bring up loads of our wood from the river bottbm. I would run down there to the bottom of the hill. After I got old enough, I would go alone with my dogs. We always had a couple of dogs, and they would accompany me. 4

5 Who owned the ferry? I really don't know. I know the ferry went--the landing on the other side was across from the sandbar, the big sandbar down there. We still have a lot of visitors who come who are very interested in the ferry. What does "Kuns'I" mean? Is that an Indian name? "Kuns'I" in Indian means "grandma." She was a wonderful old lady. She was always at Miss Salisbury's, helping her. She lived in a little house, straight west from the Mission House and straight north from the Indian School. My husband might recall in history which Dakota that was And speaking of the Indian School, my mother would bring butter there. And I was in that school many times. Mrs. Hinman was such a nice lady. What was Susan Salisbury like? She was a lovely lady. She was your friend. She was just a lovely lady. She would say to my mother, "Now, you bring anything that you have." Butter was the main thing. "But if you have anything baked, you bring me some bread, or whatever you bake." My mother would bake on Friday, so she could go on Saturday. And when they butchered meat, Miss salisbury would say, "Bring me eggs and some chicken." Whatever we had, my mother had to bring some for Miss Salisbury, you know. Were there many lace-makers? Several of them. The ladies would make the m'lace. Do you know what it is? No, but they worked with bobbins, don't they? 5

6 Yes, bobbins. Then they would twist them and stick pins in them to make the design. I often watched those ladies. Do you recall if there is any lace left? No, I think Miss Salisbury sent it to a big city. I thought they said New York, but I'm not sure. I also heard some of the lace went to Queen victoria. That could be, yes. We also had cousins. My mother had two sisters, and they all had familes. I remember that we'd go to different homes for Christmas. This one year, they were at our house, in the Stone House. My mother was roasting a goose in the little iron stove. All the cousins carne to our house, and I got a doll. And it was a beautiful little doll. My mother had sewed some clothes for it. It had a china head and china hands and feet. Well, by the time all my little cousins, including myself, played with it, the head and the hands and the feet were broken. But I dearly loved my doll, anyway--even if it didn't have a whole head. What type of Christmas tree did you have? I don't remember the Christmas tree. Maybe we didn't even have a Christmas tree at that time--in the early 1900s. I don't remember. Speaking of Christmas trees, did you ever hear of the slogan, "Christmas Ball, Knueppel's Hall?" No. no. Being that the Knueppels lived down from you, we were wondering. They lived right west from us. My mother's maiden name was Knueppel. Elsie, do remember the remains and part of the foundation of Saint John's Evangelist Church, that was first there? When Little Crow was there with quite a bit of the Indian history? 6

7 Oh, yes, I remember. I had to get the cows home in the evening. Sometimes they didn't come home in time so- this was east of the Stone House and a little bit north. It was right on the corner of the fence line and oh, I remember those rocks. There was still some rock there, yes. I knew that was the Indian church. I remember that. I saw it and went by it many a time. How high was the foundation stone? Well, just flat with the ground. Some rock was still laying there. It wasn't really high anymore--it had been knocked down pretty much. But I knew that was the first Indian church. That was actually the church that Little Crow was in the day that the conflict began. Oh, is that right? Did you ever find any artifacts? I think my brother found some--i don't know, what would you call them? pipes? Sacred pipes? Yes, I think my brother, Henry, found some. I think they were not found by the Stone House, but rather on the Poor Farm--west of Schnepple's. That was the first Redwood County Poor Farm. My father bought that and that's where we moved after living in the the Stone House. It was the first Redwood County Poor Farm. Was that bought from the Morton Bank? Yes, yes. Why was it called the Poor Farm? Well, that's where Redwood County had their poor people. Then it got too small, and they built a new one west of Redwood. In other words, there was families living there. 7

8 Yes, poor people. We also have heard that the barn was enormous there. It was a very, very large structure. Do you remember any large structures? I think that maybe after my father after bought it, he remodeled quite a few of those buildings. But the house is still there. Now, you were telling me that in the later years, you had met one of the Dakota people who lived there. You had spoken to them in church. Albert Prescott bought the farm. Yes, it was at Paul Knueppel's funeral. I said, "Oh, I was born in the stone House and then I lived in the Poor Farm. I suppose you don't call that the Poor Farm anymore?" "Yes, we do, " he said. "We still call that place the Poor Farm." Is there any time that you have heard what year that that went from being a farm to No, I really don't. I don't remember dates as far as that is concerned. About what year did you move away from there? Well, I was sixteen years old when we moved to the Poor Farm. Then my sister and her husband--herman and Agnes Lussenhop--moved into the stone House, you know. They raised their family there. Elsie, did you ever have pictures of the Poor Farm in Redwood County? Oh, yes, we have a lot of pictures of the Poor Farm. How big was the house when you lived in there? I think there were five bedrooms--four bedrooms upstairs and one bedroom downstairs. Then to the north, 8

9 there was an addition. This was a big square house, with an addition and a kitchen and an attic on that. My goodness, the pictures that you are showing me--this just was an enormous house. Yes, it was a large house--like I said earlier, it had five bedrooms. Did most of the people live in there during the depression years? Before the depression, before Actual homeless. families.. I think so--people who needed a home. County's first Poor Farm. Then the bank and my father bought it from the bank. That was Redwood had it for sale, Well, that's very interesting. Elsie, could you tell us about a few of the people who lived on the Poor Farm? Well, I understand there were--maybe some of them were immigrants who came from different countries and maybe a tragedy or sickness struck their homes. And they were homeless and maybe sick, so they would come for help at the Poor Farm. There was five bedrooms in that house, and it was a large house. I imagine it was too small for Redwood County, so then they built a new one west of Redwood. I remember it. Did the people actually work on the farm? Well, maybe they did. There was about forty acres of woodland and then forty acres up above. They probably helped with the farm work--those who were able. Maybe some of them were ill and couldn't work, you know. I lived on the Poor Farm after I moved from the stone House. I lived with my parents until I got married. I was twentythree years old when I married, and then I moved north of Morton. My husband's father was in the civil War. He homesteaded 160 acres. He was born in Illinois. and then he came to Minnesota. He could either take his soldier's wages or homestead this farm. And so he came to Minnesota and homesteaded that farm. 9

10 s That's interesting because we have read this in history--that the soldiers would have their wages held. Did you have a wedding dance? Oh, no, I got married in Minneapolis. California for six weeks on our honeymoon. and so... [Chuckles] That sounds great. Then we went to We really eloped Then we got married. I remember one time when I had two of my children. My mother was still living then, and she said on a Sunday afternoon, "Oh, let's go and visit Miss Salisbury and show her the children. " And so we drove up there. Albert Jr. was about a year so happy and so overwhelmed little boy on the lips. you? This was the grandma of Dakota. Delores was a little girl and old. Kuns'I was there. She was that she bent down and kissed my And she remembered Oh yes, she was so happy to see me. And now I had some children, you know. She must have been quite a good friend of all of them. Yes, she was a very lovely old lady. I think she probably had some unhappiness in her life, and she lived all alone. I imagine she was a widow. Oh, but she dearly loved us--she kissed my little boy right on the lips. Well, that's good. I like to hear that. And then also I remember--i was still was living in the Stone House. I had cousins--the Joe Brier farmily--who lived right below Indian Hill, down on the bottom there. One of my cousins, otto, was the instigator of all things. On a Sunday afternoon, when the Indian people had their church services, he said, "Let's go to the Indian church this afternoon." There was a nice path up from their house. We went up to the Indian church. There was a Saint Clair man who was 10

11 playing the organ so beautifully, and the Indians would sing with him. We kids would pick up hymnals and sing with the Indians--make believe that we could speak the Indian language and sing right along with them. It was always a joy to go to the Indian church. We did that several times during the summer months. That would have been Reverend Saint Clair. Saint Clair, yes. He was interesting. family? No, we didn't. one of the young Dakota men. That was Did you ever get to meet Bishop Whipple's You recall so much about the church. It was a beautiful church inside. I remember going to a couple of pow-wows. They had the pow-wows east from the Good Thunder Home in the summer. We went to several powwows. That was fun. I'd never seen that before. The Indians were all garbed in their Indian attire and dancing. It was really fun to go see that. We did that a couple of times. Did you go in the evening? No, in the afternoon. A lot of Indian drums and dancing. Yes. Were you able to meet your friend that you spoke of- Kuns'I? No, I didn't see her there, no. The Good Thunder Home was kind of off in the woods. It was a beautiful spot. The Indian people still use that at times for their pow-wows. My, I'd like to see one sometime. That would be fun. 11

12 They say that's very sacred ground. Is that right? Elsie, could you tell us a little bit about your school days? Well, yes, my brother and sister went to District six East. There was six West and six East. I went to six East, also. I know that when I was about four years old, I would go along and visit school and sit with some of the bigger kids. There were two older kids, and their names were George and Margaret O'Connor. It was a real honor to sit with them. I visited school, and then I finally got to start school by myself. Of course, my sister was six years older and my brother was four years older. Then after awhile, I went to school by myself. It was quite a long walk--almost two miles. Which way was that? It was a mile east and then about a half a mile south- that's where the six East schoolhouse was. Was it a one-room school? A one-room school house--oh, yes. For all the grades. For all the grades. Now this was in Sherman Township. Then in Paxton Township, there was six West. Then I went to school there until I came down with scarlet fever. I was very sick, very sick. My brother had it first, and then I got it. And then I didn't go to school after that any more. What grade was that about, Elsie? It was only the sixth grade. How did you ever get to school in the cold winter? Well, my father would take us once in awhile. Then I went to a parochial school for two years in order to be confirmed--one year to Gibbon, and one year to Redwood Falls. So then I was through with school after that, you know. 12

13 Did you stay in Gibbon or come home? I stayed in Gibbon with my grandparents. In Redwood Falls, I stayed with my mother's aunt and uncle, August and Minnie Knueppel. They were the first owners of the stone House. Do you recall what year they moved into the stone House? The Knueppels apparently made the purchase in the late 1880s or early 1890s. They sold it to Herman Lussenhop's father, who was William Lussenhop. When this place was still an agency, the stage rode from New Ulm to the ferry at the bottom of the hill. It passed north of the stone House. That's why the front door is on the north side. The highway now passes to the south of the Lussenhop home. Can you tell us a little more about your school days? Well, I guess I was a little curly headed girl. I had ringlets allover my head. Then each summer when school was out, we had a program. They wanted me to say a little piece one year, too. I don't remember all of it but, but part of it went like this, "When I was a little girl, I had a little curl right in the middle of my forehead. When I was good, I was very, very good and when I was bad, I was naughty." That's all I remember of it. I like that. You said you had curly hair? Oh, I had really curly hair. Then when I had scarlet fever, I lost all my hair. When it grew back, it wasn't quite so curly. What year did you have your scarlet fever? Well, I think it was almost the first year that we moved from the stone House to the Poor Farm. About 1915 or 1916? Yes. Was that during the bad epidemic? 13

14 Yes. Did quite a few people pass away? My brother caught it from some neighbor kids. They weren't careful, you know. And I caught it from my brother. I almost died. I was sick a month with it. I was very, very sick with that scarlet fever. Where did you get your medical help? A Dr. Pease from Redwood. Dr. Pease and Dr. Penhall. Dr. Penhall carne out and then I was so bad, he thought maybe he should have another doctor see me, so then Dr. Pease carne. I had two doctors corne out to see me, so I was very, very ill. Did you know a Dr. Lobb? Dr. Lobb--oh, yes, we used go to see Dr. Lobb. I remember the house where he lived in Redwood. In his later years, he took care of his mother. She was an invalid, and he took really good care of her until she died. I remember that. Yes, he was always interested in antiques and all things like that. I remember Dr. Lobb really well. He used to work with cane chairs and lace. Oh, yes, cane chairs and lace. You were telling me, Elsie, that your little brother was buried by a tree. Well, my parents were very poor. When my little brother died, I suppose they didn't have money enough to buy a marker. When we were kids, we would often go to the cemetery. There was this nice big marble slab where Mr. Robertson was buried, and it was always fun to lie on that. Then there were different markers, too. I asked my mother one day, marker?" "Where is my little brothei's She said, "Well, they didn't have a marker, but there is a big tree growing on his grave now." 14

15 ... ~r~... ~... And there was a nice wrought iron fence around it and a gate. In later years, I suppose it deteriorated and the cows bumped it down. It was too bad--there was a beautiful wrought iron fence around the cemetery. Is that right near the history center? Yes, right across. Were there more stones there? Yes, there was more. Some Knueppel family members were buried there. That was many years ago, but still in place is a marble slab over Andrew Robertson, the first superintendent of the Indian schools in the area. Others buried there were Christina and Willimenia Knueppel, German immigrants, and August Hesse, Mrs. Lussenhop, and my brother. As close as we can tell, the cemetery was begun when Robertson died on May 11, It probably was started by August Knueppel, who bought the Stone House and this property from the government after this agency was discontinued. So maybe they started that cemetery. You say the cows pushed....yes, and I deteriorated and fell more of it over. It's up around the cemetery. suppose the wrought iron fence over and then the cows pushed some too bad that nice fence didn't stay Your mother is buried in the other cemetery? Yes, my father and mother are both buried there in Redwood Cemetery. They spoke about a Mrs. Hesse being the last person to be buried in the cemetery that was part of Mr. Hogan's farm. You don't recall that? No, I don't. My sister got married when she was about nineteen. I remember the wedding. We lived in the Stone House at the time. My mother and Agnes and Herman's sister cooked in this shanty on this slab. Oh, they cooked for about three 15

16 days for a big wedding. My sister was married on october 25, They put the little old woodstove out in the shanty, so we had a nice big room for the wedding guests to come and eat. And I remember that on the day of the wedding, it rained--oh, it rained so hard. Of course, Herman he had a nice surrey buggy with a top on. He drove them to the Lutheran church in Morton and that's where they were married. Then they all came back to the stone House for the wedding reception. I remember that. And at that time, I was going to parochial school in Gibbon, and my mother let me come home for the wedding. So I remember it really well. Did they prepare heavily for the wedding? Oh, yes, they cooked. My mother cooked. for three days. She cooked and baked. In those days, you did everything yourself. I don't remember the wedding cake. I'm sure they had some kind of a cake, but I don't remember it. Would they have had music in the Stone House for the wedding? No, no, no music. friends. Maybe that was the only wedding. Just a lot of guests and a lot of I believe that was the only wedding that ever was in the Stone House--the one for my sister. Another person who was born in the Stone House was Fred Lussenhop, my nephew who lives in California. He was here for his sister's golden wedding anniversary--mr. and Mrs. Leslie R. Wagner--in Morgan in November of this year. We had a nice visit together. I was hoping that he could give you some information about his growing up in the Stone House, too. On his way back, he went by Amtrak to Seattle to his son's home. While he was there visiting a few days, he had a massive stroke. That's all we heard. He's able to walk, but he's not able to talk. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Elsie. you are able to talk. I'm very glad that Of course, there were some other children of Herman and Agnes born in the Stone House, but they all died. Verna and 16

17 Erwin were also born in the Stone House. Now there might be other people born in the Stone House whom I don't know about. There wasn't really high grass in the cemetery when we were there. There wasn't too much grass in the cemetery. It just didn't grow that much there, you know. I also remember herding the cows. There was two meadows south of the Stone House. One was to the southeast and one was straight south. It was summertime and my parents had many cattle. The grass was getting low in the pasture, so we herded the cows in the meadows south of the Stone House. The cows were so good. They knew how to get there and would follow a little path. They never touched the corn or the grain on either side, and they would go until they got to this meadow with its high grass. There was a little--well, we called it a slough. It was a pond of water with beautiful flowers and so on. The cows would graze there for about two or three hours, and it was my job to herd them there. A lot of times when they would take a drink and lie down, I knew they were full, so I would take them back to the woods again and to the wood pasture. It was always an enjoyable time. I sometimes got tired of doing it, but that was okay, I was willing to help. I always helped my parents. My sister was six years older than I was, and my mother had to help my father with the field work in the fall. She would help him plow. They would plow west of the Stone House on a little plot of land. When my sister was only six, she would babysit my brother who was four and the baby--me. She would take care of us while my mother plowed. Well, when I got hungry and cried, she would carry my out to the back of the grove, out to the field. My mother would take me as she was riding a sulky plow--that one plow with three horses. My mother would nurse me, and I'd get to ride a couple of times around the field while Agnes and Henry played there. When I was all taken care of--filled up--agnes would carry me back to the Stone House. Isn't that wonderful--a six year old taking care of us two little kids? My mother always said, "You be nice to Agnes. Look what she did--she was your babysitter when you were a baby and she was only six years old." 17

18 That's wonderful, Elsie. My mother always told me, "You be nice to Agnes." And I was--we were good friends. We were always good friends. Elsie, I'm going to ask you about the stone workers, the Indian people who worked up from the Dakota community. You had spoken of my husband's father, Earl Pendleton. Oh, yes, I remember Earl. He always fixed cement work and chimneys for us. When we lived north of Morton there, we built a cement block garage, and he was there. I cooked meals, and Earl ate with us. Oh, yes, I remember Earl so well, and his wife, too. I don't just remember her name anymore, but I remember her. Her name was Lisa. Lisa. Oh, Earl, he was a very nice man. Sometimes, he would bring his boys along, too. My husband Marvin went quite a bit with him. He says that they worked all day. They were very happy to work for their father. Well, thank you very much Elsie, and thank your daughter, Delores Dahlgren. Thank you very much. We're happy to have you come. have you in my home. It's a real pleasure to Would you tell us why you would like to have the Stone House restored? Because it was such a beautiful place when I lived there and when the Lussenhops owned it. I certainly hope that the Historical Society will do something to restore that beautiful place before the rock all crumbles and it all goes to pieces. I hope that they will do something about it--maybe get a grant or something to get it back the way it was. We like to hear that because we are very interested in getting it back in the condition it should be. Thank you once again. 18

19 You are welcome. I'm glad you came. Thank you, Elsie. 19