nd much safer. One of
our men, Joe Gilfillan had not had his horse saddled when the rest
started and when he came to the fork in the road, he took the one he had
come by and was killed by the Indians. Undoubtedly we would have met the
same fate had we taken that road as the Indians were on our trail and
were in ambush waiting for our return. However, we got safely back to
New Ulm and later Mrs. Eastlake and her children and Mr. Ireland came to
Mankato where they were cared for with the other refugees. The
sufferings and hardships endured by the older Eastlake boy soon carried
him to an untimely grave.

COLONIAL CHAPTER

Minneapolis

CARRIE SECOMBE CHATFIELD

(Mrs. E. C. Chatfield)

RUTH HALL VAN SANT

(Mrs. S. R. Van Sant)

Miss Carrie Stratton--1852.

My father was Levi W. Stratton who was born in Bradford, N. H., who came
to St. Croix valley in 1838, taking up a claim where Marine now stands.

He helped to build the old mill there, the ruins of which are still to
be found there. After two or three years he removed to Alton, Ill.,
where he remained for ten or twelve years marrying my mother there in
1842.

In 1852 he returned to Minnesota, coming up the river in the old "War
Eagle." His family consisted of my mother, myself and my four brothers
and sisters, the youngest an infant of six months.

We arrived at St. Paul on June 8. Being a child of but seven years, my
memory of the appearance of the town at that time, is very indistinct.
In fact the only clear remembrance of anything there, is of a large sign
upon a building directly across the street from the little inn or tavern
where we stopped for the night. It was "Minnesota Outfitting Company."
On account of our large family of little children, I had been put into
school when I was between two and three years of age and so was able to
read, write and spell, and I have a very vivid recollection of the three
long words of that sign.

We came from St. Paul to St. Anthony in the stage of the Willoughby
Company, which was the first stage line in Minnesota. The driver stopped
to water his horses at the famous old Des Noyer "Half Way House."

We stopped at the old St. Charles Hotel while the house my father had
engaged was made ready for us. It was the Calvin Tuttle home, which was
on the river bank at the foot of the University hill.

My father's previous residence in Minnesota had taught him to understand
and speak the Indian language and so th