Back in early July, I blogged about the Sandy Lake tragedy, the death of approximately 400 Ojibwe in 1850 resulting from the federal government’s attempt to remove them from northern Wisconsin and upper Michigan to Minnesota.
I paid a visit to the site yesterday, first stopping at a roadside rest with two Minnesota Historical Society (MNHS) road markers.
The roadside rest is on Hwy 65, about 15 miles north of McGregor, a mile south of Libby (image on the right is a screenshot with an arrow pointing to the approximate location. See the live Google map here.)
The left and center photos are two sides of the same marker sign. Together, it reads:
“Tell him I blame him for the children we have lost” - Aish-ke-bo-go-ko-zhe (Flat Mouth), December 3, 1850
In late 1850, some 400 Ojibwe Indians perished because of the government’s attempt to relocate them from their homes in Wisconsin and Upper Michigan to Minnesota west of the Mississippi River. The tragedy unfolded at Sandy Lake where thousands of Ojibwes suffered from illness, hunger and exposure. It continued as the Lake Superior Ojibwe made a difficult journey home.
In the 1840’s, Minnesota politicians began pressuring the U.S. government to remove Ojibwe people from lands the government claimed they had ceded, or given up, in 1837 and 1842 treaties. Territorial governor Alexander Ramsey and others claimed they were acting to “ensure the security and tranquility of white settlements.” But their true motivation was economic. If Indians were moved from Wisconsin and Upper Michigan onto unceded lands in Minnesota, local traders could supply the annuity goods the Government had promised to provide to the Ojibwe under the treaties, and they could trade with the Ojibwe themselves. Minnesotans could also build Indian agencies and schools in return for government funding and jobs.
From the outset, the Lake Superior Ojibwe vigorously opposed removal. They pointed to the promises made at the treaty negotiations that they could remain on ceded lands. Knowing that the Ojibwe would not consent to removal, government officials devised a plan to entice the Ojibwe to Sandy Lake, hoping that they would simply remain here and abandon their homelands in Wisconsin and Michigan.
In 1850, the Ojibwe were told to arrive at Sandy Lake no later than October 25th where their treaty annuities-cash, food and other goods promised in exchange for the land cessions-would be waiting for them. In prior years, these annuities for the Lake Superior Ojibwe had been distributed at La Pointe on Madeline Island in Lake Suprior, a traditional hub of Ojibwe culture and a more accessible location.
By November 10th, some 4,000 Ojibwe had arrived. They were ill prepared for what they faced at Sandy Lake. The promised annuities were not waiting for them, and the last of the limited provisions that were available were not distributed until December 2nd after harsh winter conditions had set in. While they waited the nearly six weeks, they lacked adequate food and shelter. Over 150 died from dysentery caused by spoiled government provisions and from measles. Demonstrating their steadfast desire to remain in their homelands, the Ojibwe began an arduous winter’s journey home on December 3rd. As many as 250 others died along the way. On the same day, Aish-ke-bo-go-ko-zhe, the Ojibwe leader also known as Flat Mouth, sent word to Ramsey that he held him personally at fault for the broken promises that resulted in suffering and death.
As word of the Sandy Lake disaster spread, so did opposition to the government’s removal policy. Non-Indian settlers-including missionaries, newspaper editors, legislators, and local citizens-voiced their support for the Ojibwe. Ojibwe leaders traveled to Washington to secure guarantees that annuities would be distributed at La Pointe and that the Ojibwe could remain in their homelands. In 1852, the U.S. government abandoned its efforts to remove the Ojibwe. And in 1854, Congress passed a law authorizing that future Ojibwe treaties would instead provide for permanent reservations in areas the Ojibwe traditionally occupied.
Erected by the Minnesota Historical Society 2001
From my other readings, this seems to be a fair summary of what happened. But the second sign detailing the miles traveled by the various bands is titled “The Ojibwe’s Sandy Lake Journey.” That seems to be a watered-down title, especially when the other name for the tragedy is the ‘Wisconsin Death March.’ I learned about that name by doing a Google search of the MNHS web site. The only reference I could find on their site was a 2006 prize-winning paper:
This year’s theme was “Triumph and Tragedy,” and the winner is Jacob Nelson, an eleventh grader who wrote his paper for a post-secondary enrollment options class in Minnesota history at Saint Paul College. His essay, “Stained by the Blood of Our Children: The Ojibwa’s Triumph over Bureaucracy following the Sandy Lake Tragedy,” investigates the events and aftermath of what came to be known as the Wisconsin Death March.
A Google search on the phrase “Wisconsin Death March” brings up this 1987 paper titled, Wisconsin Death March: Explaining The Extremes in Old Northwest Indian Removal by James A. Clifton, then a Professor of Anthropology and History at the University of Wisconsin-Green Bay. (There are 12 web pages there.)
Also, in the book Chippewa Treaty Rights by Ronald N. Satz, see Chapter 4, titled The removal order and the Wisconsin death march (PDF), pp. 51-59.
Like the phrases ‘concentration camp’ and ‘ethnic cleansing,’ the phrase ‘death march’ has such an associated horror with it that, as Americans — as Minnesotans — we can’t imagine that our government would have ever perpetuated it on a group of people. But all three have happened in Minnesota. And the more that state leaders and organizations like the MNHS help citizens to learn the truth, the more likely the healing will occur.
The Strib’s Nick Coleman has a column today titled Marking another part of our state’s history that some prefer to forget. 
Thomas Dahlheimer spearheads the 
