Sunday, February 2, 2014

The Prolific Pen of Eli S. Ricker


From Descriptive Civil War Letters to Chronicling American Indian Oral History

“When the white man landed on the shores of the New World, an eclipse blacker than any that ever darkened the sun, blighted the hopes and happiness of the native people, races then living in tranquility on their own soil.”  Eli S. Ricker

          The term “Renaissance Man” is a compliment paid to an individual whose intellectual curiosity encompasses a wide variety of interests.  Eli Seavey Ricker certainly merits the description.  Farmer, lawyer, judge, editor and later Indian researcher, he compiled more than 1500 tablet pages of information by interviews with settlers, scouts and Indians.  Thanks to Eli Ricker, recorded for posterity are eyewitness accounts of the Indian Wars in the west, including such still controversial engagements as the Battle of the Little Bighorn and the Wounded Knee Massacre.

     Eli Ricker was born in 1843, in Maine, but in 1855 he enters our region as his family made the trek to Oneida, Illinois in the hope of obtaining some of the rich farmland and of making a better life for themselves.  Young Eli worked at farming and attended school in the winter months, showing at an early age an interest in political questions and literary endeavors, which led him to part time work as a journalist for some years with both the Knox County Observer and The Galesburg Free Press.

     At the outbreak of the Civil War, patriotism and a longing for adventure beckoned.  As soon as he could be spared from home, he enlisted in August of 1862 in Company I. of the 102nd Illinois Infantry, and arrived in Louisville, Kentucky in October.  In 1863 he began writing descriptive letters home to local newspaper editors to fill the readership in on the encounters of the 102nd.

     In letters to the Knoxville Observer he paints a vivid picture of a soldier’s discomfort

     ”A few days since, while on duty in the fort, a storm set in with considerable severity, producing, in one way or another, countless disagreeables.  At about 4 o’clock in the afternoon the rain commenced falling in torrents, and continued with unabated violence until 3 o’clock the following morning.  During the early part of the night the rain was accompanied with thunder and lightning; the wind blew a furious gale, driving the rain through every sort of protection; the fort within was inundated, the tents flooded; water put out our fires at an early hour of the night- the boys stood in motley groups, huddled together, crowded into the few tents that were at hand, many of them drenched to the skin, while some were stowed away in the boxes of ammunition, taking a quiet nap- a feeling of nonchalance prevailed, jokes went the rounds, and the songs that fell upon our ears were as sweet as ever, and contrasted strangely with the blast of the storm.  The sentinels paced the beats with measured tread, while the flashing lightning, the bursting thunder, the drenching rain and the howling tempest added, no doubt, to their reflections genuine seriousness, while deeply ruminating upon the attractiveness of a soldier’s life.”

     An April movement of troops from Gallatin, Tennessee to Franklin, KY gave him first hand experience of the enmity the war had engendered between neighbors who had now become bitter enemies.

     “…companies D and I got off, and were sent out on picket.  Here we got an inkling of what was “up.”  It was early surmised that the track was torn up, and the rebels were lying in ambush to capture the train.  We soon learned that the enemy was prowling about in that vicinity.  Only last Thursday night a Union man, living near Franklin, was most inhumanely murdered by guerillas.  About a dozen of them went to his house while he was at supper; as the door was opened he was shot, the ball taking effect in his arm.  He was taken from his house, and notwithstanding his earnest request that he might be allowed to wear a coat and hat, he was denied the privilege, as they remarked to him that they had no use for them.  He was taken about twelve miles from his home, and then basely and cruelly murdered.  His throat was cut from ear to ear, and his body thrown into a creek.  When found it was discovered that he had been shot five times.”

     In June young Eli was able to walk the Stone’s River Battlefield, the scene of bloody fighting near the beginning of the year.  His description of the battlefield follows…

     “Yesterday Corporal Bulkeley and myself visited the battlefield of Stone River, or rather, that part of it where the last day’s fighting was done, which is seven miles this side of Murfreesboro.  Rude boards at the heads of graves mark the resting places of the departed.

     “After a pleasant walk we reached our lines of entrenchments, which were thrown up by our forces during the battle, and about a mile further in we found the rebel line.  Between these lines of entrenchments was the arena of a sanguinary struggle.  Trees are shivered and torn with shot and shell, and their trunks are literally filled with musket balls.  The evidences are plain that the shower of lead was heavy as a hailstorm.”

     In July a quarrel erupted in the regiment as to the ability of the elderly Colonel McMurtry to retain command.  Eli Ricker weighed in on the conflict, sending a letter espousing his opinion to The Knox County Observer.  An excerpt from his letter follows…

    Col. William McMurtry was one of the earliest settlers of Knox County.  He has been long and well known by the people there.  It is not proposed to scan his faults or pronounce his worth.  That would be irrelevant.  But to say he is faulty is but to assert a living truth that is applicable to all living men.  Are there any free from defect?  There are none perfect but the all-wise God.

     Colonel  McMurtry is a man upwards of sixty years of age.  At the call of his country he hastened to its rescue.  He raised a regiment and plunged forward into the field with that inimitable ardor for which he is remarkable.  He may have been indiscreet and over-zealous, and I doubt not his soul burned with a desire to lead his enthusiastic followers against the cohorts of treason at an early day.  But this fact, if it be a fact, speaks all the better of his noble heart.  Age had not dampened his enthusiasm, it had not lessened the love he cherished for his country, the flame of patriotic ardor still filled his bosom, but his powerful zeal mastered his judgment….

     Whether or not Col. McMurtry was qualified to command a regiment is not a question for consideration.  It needs not to be discussed in this connection.  He possessed great influence and that was given to his country.  Fellowmen of Knox County, give a fellow citizen the credit which he deserves. Without censure.  Do not let it be said after he has shuffled off the mortal coil that he went down to the grave a victim of base ingratitude.  What a requital were that for his services!  Go ask the 102nd regiment and they will tell you that he possessed the spirit and determination of the most impetuous and gallant youth, but that old age had impaired his judgment.  He is held in high veneration by many of those whom he commanded, and their attachment to him is testimony in his behalf.  His is a noble heart, a generous soul.  He maintained no frozen distance between himself and his men.  He was not deaf to their appeals, blind to their wants, nor untouched by their sufferings.  He is cherished in grateful remembrance by many of his old command when they hear the unmanly and villainous slurs of heartless slanderers against him.”

          Corporal Ricker by this time, his trek with the Union army took him to Nashville, then Chattanooga, then across Georgia.  Sherman’s men were becoming more confident by the middle of 1864, when they moved closer to Atlanta, a confidence that was reflected in a letter that Eli addressed to his sister and mother.

     “You can tell those at home what have said so much against it that there is not a regiment in the army that has a better reputation than ours.  Colonel Smith is emphatically a fighting man.  Our Spencer Repeating Rifles with which five companies are equipped have given us sort of a notoriety in our corps.  The rebels know us by our arms, and we are quite well known among them as among our own men.”

     By Christmas of 1864 Sherman had presented President Lincoln with the “Christmas Present” of Savannah, GA, thus effectively concluding his “March to the Sea” and depriving the Confederacy of that important port city.  From there it was time to move into South Carolina to make the birthplace of the serpent called “Rebellion” suffer for having spawned it.  An example of the vengeance wreaked upon the South follows in this excerpt from a letter written in mid-January, 1865.

     “We move, we go into camp, and then a miniature city grows up in a day.  We have good houses again.  The deserted buildings which composed the town of Hardeesville furnished the material.  It is a diverting spectacle to see the houses of a town coming down about the streets as the soldiers strip their farms and gather up and carry away the lumber.  In a few hours a town of a half century’s growth is thus leveled to the ground.  Yet at the same time it is not pleasant to witness the wanton destruction of property, if one has his thoughts about him.”

     Eli Ricker accompanied the 102nd Illinois through their punishment of the Palmetto State and participated In the Battle of Bentonville, In North Carolina.  In a couple of letters, one written in early January and in a short letter he penned shortly after Bentonville, he vents his disgust with the swampy country and justifies their treatment of the South Carolinian population.

     “I trust hot weather will not overtake us in this locality.  It is a very unhealthy section of country, begetting malaria in summer on account of the swamp, of which there is an endless number.  I might better say that the whole country herebout is one vast swamp in which a spot of earth occasionally rises above the water, affording habitable places like oases in a desert.  Notwithstanding, we have again erected comfortable cabins and are living in full enjoyment of their advantages and comforts.  I. for one, shall not be loath to depart from this land of alligators and pestiferous swamps.”

     “On the 21st {March) the right wing routed the enemy {at the Battle of Bentonville} which gave us possession of this place.  Our force arrived here {in Goldsboro} the 24th.  We are now in encampment two miles within the town.

     I do not design writing a long letter.  I have time for only a few words.  Since leaving Savannah we have marched five hundred miles.  We left a black track in South Carolina.  I cannot regret it.  They that taketh the sword shall perish by the sword.”

     In an early April letter, he again turns his attention to South Carolina and his contempt for the state and its rebel is most evident.

     “South Carolina has paid in part the penalty of her treason.  She is now prostrate and her people are suffering.  I commiserate the destitution of the poor but I can shed no tears for the rich.  Great distress must prevail where we have been.  The country is stripped of subsistence and the means of producing iron.  Thousands are reduced to a state of privation; refugees have followed us and have gone, or are going north….forward to Richmond was once an odious expression due to the recollections it recalled {of McDowell, McClellan, Burnside and early defeats} but now it is on every tongue.”

     After the war was finally declared over, Eli Ricker, a veteran now, lingered in Washington long enough to participate in the Grand Review of the Armies.  He then made his way with his regiment to Chicago, where on June 6th he was mustered out of the service.  He returned to Oneida and attempted to don life’s responsibilities as a civilian.  In July of 1867 he took upon himself added responsibility by taking Mary M. Smith of Wyanet, Illinois as a wife.  Their union produced five children.  He attempted to make a living as a farmer until the early 1870s.  The early success that he had as a farmer was quashed by a horrible fluctuation in 1870, incurred debts that he valiantly attempted to repay for a time.  After paying over $3000 worth of interest on his debts during those 5 years, at last he threw in the towel, relinquished his home, and with only $50 in his pocket he resolved to get the education that would allow him to recoup his fortunes. 

     As a young man he’d considered staying in the army and becoming a career soldier, but the decline of his father’s health and his own family’s dependence upon him made him realize that he had to look for success in other venues.  Beginning with a commercial course, he attended a seminary in Onarga, Illinois for two years, and he made his residence there until 1882.  His family would remain there until 1884.  In 1876 through 1878 he took employment in the County Clerk’s office in Watseka Illinois.  It wasn’t steady work, all together it maybe provided him a year’s employment.  Still, it was needed income.  During this time he also assisted a friend in the office in interviewing pioneers and writing sketches of them.  This would prove invaluable experience when he began to interview westerners and Indians later in his life.  He had another obstacle to overcome besides debt during this period of his life as well.  He suffered severely from sciatica.  He was told that he was likely to be further disabled with paralysis of his left leg .  The only cure was walking; although very painful, it would build his leg up.  At first he was fortunate if he could walk for an hour without having to stop to rest, but eventually he recovered fully.

     He resumed his studies in school, but within a day of re-enrolling a publishing company in Chicago, hearing of his competency as a writer, paid a visit to him at his home and employed him to gather materials and work on nine county histories in the states of Illinois and Indiana.  This allowed him to travel throughout the counties on foot, interview people and further build up his leg.  He was proud of his efforts on these county histories.  They compared most favorably to those spewed out by hack writers simply to turn a profit.

     By 1882 he had accumulated enough capital to provide for his family and continue his schooling as well.  He travelled to Brooklyn, in central Iowa to study law with John T. Scott, a former Civil War comrade who had risen to the rank of Brevet Brigadier General by the war’s end.  Scott had been elected Governor of Iowa from 1868 to 1870 and later served as a district judge.  In 1884 Eli Ricker passed his exam and was admitted to practice law. 

     Armed with his law degree now, Eli Ricker headed west and hung up his shingle in Chadron, Nebraska.  He dealt in both real estate transactions and legal matters.  When a vacancy occurred in 1886 for a County Judgeship, he was elected to the position, testimony that the Nebraska community held the newcomer in high esteem. 

     Misfortune struck him again in 1887 as a fire broke out in Chadron’s business section, spread and engulfed Eli Ricker’s law office.  He was able to retrieve his books and furniture before the flames overwhelmed the firefighters.  Riker was elected County Judge again in 1895 and again in 1897.  In 1900 he retired to his large ranch, “Gray Cliff,” on the Bordeaux Creek; a picturesque spread graced by a high bluff of gray butte rock, pine-covered hills and a brook running through it.  He remained there for two years, giving his ranch needed attention and paying attention to his livestock, but finding retirement intellectually unstimulating, he entered into a partnership and purchased The Chadronian, and in January of 1903 brought forth the first issue of the Chadron Times.  He pursued this line of work until March of 2005 when he sold the paper, his ranch, and moved with his family to Grand Junction, in Western Colorado.

     For some time he had been contemplating writing a monograph on the Indian Campaign of 1890 and the massacre of the Indians at Wounded Knee, South Dakota.  This planned work soon expanded into a large project, a work that he planned on calling The Final Conflict Between the Red Man and the Pale Faces.  The book was never written, because Eli Ricker, like a true scholar, became so engrossed in researching and gathering information for it that he could never find the time to write it.   He spent years in the archives of the United States Bureau of Indian Affairs and The War Department and compiled a collection of originals and copies of letters, reports, and official documents from many sources.  Eli Ricker relied on pencils and notebooks when he did the interviews.  His notebooks eventually amassed to more than 1500 pages of writing on ruled tablets, an archive that soon became known as “the Ricker Tablets.”  The information he gathered, including many first hand accounts of historical events, are a valued resource that is now held in the archives of the Nebraska Historical Society.  These notebooks have recently been edited and compiled in two volumes that are currently in print.  The Indian Interviews of Eli S. Ricker, 1903-1919 and Settler and Soldier Interviews of Eli S. Ricker, 1903-1919. 

     Just to give the reader some examples of the wonderful historical accounts in the Ricker archives, one can find accounts of Gall and Patriarch Crow on the Custer fight; White Bull on the Death of Lt. Harrington; W. A. Ballou on the Fetterman massacre and the action of Capt. Ten Eyck; J. W. Horncloud on Wounded Knee;  Grenville Dodge on the Ft. Laramie Treaty;  and 36 maps and pictures drawn by interviewees to illustrate their reminiscences.  In total, the Ricker Collection consists of 35 boxes of material and 7 reels of microfilm. 

     How important have these volumes become to Western scholars?  American Studies states that “the strength of the volumes is in the stories told by the interviewees, with their perspective on key historical events from the Old West.  Kansas History avers that “Ricker proved himself a patient and meticulous oral interviewer, giving voice to people mostly ignored by historians of his day.  His subjects document the Ghost Dance as a genuine religious movement, not as a ‘craze’ as described in white accounts.”  The Bloomsbury Review acknowledges that “Amazing personal accounts are in these volumes.  Here is Western History at its finest-vivid oral narratives that may very well become the stuff of prize-winning stories, novels and films,”  and the Great Plains Quarterly is lavish in its praise, stating that “the interviews are a gold mine of information, and researchers will be rewarded for digging through them…Ricker left Nebraska and the West an important source of information.”

     Eli S. Ricker died in Grand Junction on March 17th, 1928.  His burial site, a simple GAR stone that has fallen, and is slowly being covered by earth and grass, is in the Municipal Cemetery in Orchard Mesa (Mesa County) Colorado.  He may not have completed the book that he had envisioned, but his tenacity in gathering information and interviewing participants in some of the most legendary and debated conflicts in the history of the West have left a treasure trove of research, and a legacy that any scholar would envy.

              Bibliography

Eli S. Ricker letters to the Knox County Observer and Galesburg Free Press

Brevet Brigadiers in Blue     1990 Hunt and Brown

Eli S. Ricker Letters.  Nebraska State Historical Society.

Eli S. Ricker biography     Nebraska State historical Society website

Eli S. Ricker        Wikipedia

Eli S. Ricker  "Find a Grave"  (Note misprint for the date of birth on the Find a Grave entry.

History of Nebraska   Albert Watkins, 1913

Voices of the American West: the Indian Interviews of Eli S. Ricker     Amazon.com  Editorial Reviews

Manuscript Record  Eli Seavey Ricker    Nebraska State Historical Society

History of Mercer and Henderson Counties

“We Left a Black Track in South Carolina” the letters of Corporal Eli S. Ricker  by Edward Longacre

No comments:

Post a Comment