Of all the men who acted a part in the settlement of the Des Moines Valley, there is no name around which clusters more of thrilling history and conflicts with the Sioux Indians, and the death of his wife and son. Many of the statements are misleading. The following is the true story, as nearly as possible to obtain it.:
Henry Lott was born in the State of Pennsylvania, grew to manhood and was married there. His wife was a widow named Huntington and was the mother of a son by her first husband. This son acted a very prominent part in the history of the Lott family. By her second marriage a second son was born, whose untimely death and the facts and circumstances surrounding it, form the chief theme of this story.
W first hear of Lott in Iowa in the spring of 1843, at which time he was in business as an Indian trader at Red Rock, in what is now Marion County, Iowa. It is said that he did a thriving business there, until October 11, 1845, at which date, according to the treaty of 1842, the Sac and Fox Indians bid adieu to Iowa and moved west beyond the Missouri River.
So well pleased was Lott with his success an Indian trader, that in the summer of 1846, he moved north from Red Rock and located on the bank of Boone River, near it’s mouth. Here he expected to carry on a thriving trade with the Sioux Indians, but for some reason he did not get along with them as well as he had with the Sac and Foxes at Red Rock. Three reasons are advanced as the origin of the trouble between Lott and Si-dom-i-na-do-tah and his band of Sioux. The author of the "Historic Atlas", in his sketch of Humbolt County, states that the Sioux chief informed Lott that he was an intruder, as he had settled on the Sioux hunting grounds, and he gave him a certain time to leave. His refusal to leave by the time set, caused the Indians to make a raid upon his family and stock. The Union Historical Company, in their sketch of the Indian chiefs of Iowa, make the same statement.
When the Sioux chief told Lott that he was an intruder on the Indian hunting grounds, he either uttered a falsehood, or was misinformed himself, as Lott had not located upon the Sioux hunting grounds. According to the map issued by W. S. Tanner, in 1838, the Sioux hunting grounds did not extend farther than the upper fork of the Des Moines River, and this was at least thirty miles north of the place where Lott had located.
Ex-Lieut. Gov. B. F. Gue, in his "Historic Sketch of Iowa," says that Lott’s cabin was the headquarters of a band of horse thieves, who stole horses from the settlers in the valley below the mouth of Boone River, and ponies from above it belonging to the Indians, the running them east to the Mississippi River and selling them. Mr. Gue thinks it was the stealing of the Indian ponies which brought the wrath of Si-dom-i-na-do-tah and his warriors down upon Lott and his family. There is another story to the effect that Lott had sold whisky to the Indians, and that it was while they were drunk, as a result of this, that they destroyed his property and were the cause of the death of two innocent members of his family.
Among those conflicting statements it is impossible to arrive at the exact cause of the trouble. However, it is certain that the attack was made and by a band of Sioux Indians, who where miles beyond the borders of their hunting grounds, being themselves intruders upon the territory already ceded to the United States by the Sac and Fox tribes, and then open to settlement. As to the nature of the attack, it is safe to conclude that the Indians were painted in their usual hideous manner, and that as they surrounded the cabin they gave the blood-curdling war-whoop, which was their custom, and which always struck terror t their intended victims. Lott told Doras Eslick, who settled near the scene of this horror, that he concealed himself across the rover and watched the Indians destroy his property. Then, as he could do nothing in the way of defending his family or property against the whole band of Indians, he and his stepson, a boy of about sixteen years of age, started for the nearest settlement for help. This left the wife and twelve-year-old son alone. The Indian chief ordered this boy, Milton Lott, to catch all the horses on the place and deliver them over, on penalty of death in case of his failure to do so. This so frightened the poor boy that he fled terror-stricken down the Des Moines River, an was never again seen alive. This left his mother alone, at the mercy of the savages. Some say she fled into the thick timber to escape the tomahawk, and others say she remained in the cabin and plead for mercy. However, her life was spared, but the nervous shock, together with the grief and exposure which she suffered, were the cause of her death a week or so later.
It was three days before Lott returned from the settlements, with seven white men and twenty-six friendly Indians, belonging to Johnny Green’s band of Musquawkies and Pottawattamies, then camped on the river below Elk Rapids. The names of the settlers who accompanied him were: Doctor Spears, who lived on a claim near where the Rees coal shaft is situated; John Pea and Jacob Pea, his son; James Hull and William Hull, of Pea’s Point; John M. Crooks and William Crooks, who lived on the Myers Farm south of Boone.
When these settlers and the friendly Indians, led by Henry Lott, reached the mouth of the Boone River, they found that Si-dom-i-na-do-tah, after plundering the cabin and killing and wounding some of Lott’s cattle, had retreated up the valley with his plunder and all the horses he could lay his hands on, an was now at a safe distance. They found Mrs. Lott in a sorrowful condition, more dead than alive. She had been left alone three days in that wild country, as it was at that time, not knowing what had become of the other members of her family, nor at what moment the Indians might return to the cabin. We, at this day, surrounded by all the safeguards of civilization, can never realize the crushing grief and sorrow that fell to the lot of this poor woman during those three days and nights, with no one to minister to her wants, or to speak a word of cheer. In a short time death came to her relief, and she was laid to rest on the Boone River Bluff, where her grave may still be seen.
Finding that their services were not needed, the friendly Indians and the settlers, except John Pea, returned home. He remained behind to assist Lott and his stepson in caring for the sick wife and mother, and finding Milton Lott, the twelve-year-old son, who had fled down the river.
It was the middle of December, 1846, when the raid was made upon the family, the weather was cold and the river frozen over. There was snow both upon the ice and the ground, so they could follow the boy’s tracks. He was thinly clad when he left home, and without doubt suffered with cold from the start. Henry Lott, the father, and John Pea followed his tracks until they reached a point about forty rods below the mouth of a little creek, which comes into the Des Moines River a short distance below the Village of Centerville, where they found the dead body of the unfortunate boy, stiff and still in the embrace of the piercing frost. At this place he had attempted to climb the bench that separates the lower and upper bottoms, but must have been so benumbed by cold that he fell backward and was unable to rise again. Not having any way to convey the body to the settlements, they decided to place it in a hollow log, which they found nearby, and close the entrance with timbers, so as to prevent the wild animals from molesting it, until such time as a burial in the proper way could take place. The date on which the body was found was December 18, 1846.
The body remained in this log until the 14th of the following month. Henry Lott came down from Boone River to Pea’s Point on the 13th to attend the burial of his son. The 14th was Sunday. The weather had moderated and the day was warm and beautiful; warmer by many degrees than the day on which the poor boy had met his death. At this time the county was not organized, and there was not an established road within it’s borders. With axes, spades and guns the men set out from Pea’s Point on foot for the place of burial, a distance of eight miles. the names of those attending the funeral were: John Pea, Sr., John Pea, Jr., Thomas Sparks, John M. Crooks, William Crooks and the father, Henry Lott. On arriving at the place where the body had been left, a part of the men were detailed to dig the grave, while the rest of them felled a tree, out of which they dewed enough small pieces to construct a rude coffin. The body was then taken from the hollow log, a sheet was wrapped around it, and it was then lowered into the grave; the dirt was thrown in, the grave was filled and the little mound was rounded up. It was a funeral without a ceremonial word. There was no Scripture read, no prayer offered and no hymn sung, but tears stood in the eyes of the pioneers who stood around the grave of Milton Lott to pay their last tribute of respect. The tree near the grave, on which the boy’s name was cut, has long since yielded to the woodsman’s axe. No stone was set, or stake driven, to preserve the identity of the spot. As time passed on, the little mound gradually became merged with surrounding soil, so the location of the grave was finally almost forgotten.
After the death of his wife and son, Lott gathered up what property the Indians had left him, and moved south to the settlements. He built a cabin on O.D. Smalley’s claim in Dallas County, Iowa, about five miles southwest of Madrid, where he and his stepson lived during the summer of 1847. In the spring of that year the first assessment of the Dallas County was made, and in the list of property owners appears the name of Henry Lott, among whose possessions were thirteen head of cattle. The records show that he was the largest cattle owner in the county at that tie, owning one more head than any other man. These were the cattle which the Indians tried to kill at the mouth of the Boone River by shooting them with arrows. During the spring and summer these cattle grew fat on the range and in the fall were sold for beef. A man named Ramsey bought one of the beeves and butchered it. Mr. Smalley bought a front quarter of this beef and while carving it, found one of the arrow-heads which the Indians had shot into it.
While living here Lott often spoke of his dead wife and son in a very sympathetic way, but would usually wind up his talk by declaring that he would some day wreck vengeance upon the old Sioux Chief who caused her death. In the autumn of 1847 he moved to Fort Des Moines and remained there aver a year, during which time he was married to a woman named McGuire. In the spring of 1849 he moved north and located at the mouth of the Boone River again, occupying the same log cabin in which his first wife died, and from which his twelve-year-old son had fled from the Indians, never more to be seen alive. It was a place around which, for him, the gloomiest recollections hovered. While living here three children were born to him and his second wife, the oldest being girls and the youngest a boy. At the birth of the boy the wife died, making it necessary for him to find homes for the children. The infant boy was adopted by a man named John H. White, in whose care he grew to manhood, and now the head of a family, being a citizen of Boone, Iowa. The two girls were raised by a family named Wm. Dicherson, in Boone County, where they grew to womanhood, and were married.
After finding homes for his children, Lott sold his possessions at the mouth of Boone River and, with his stepson, in the fall of 1853, moved north forty-five miles and located on a creek, which still bears his name. Whether by purpose, or by accident, he was once more a neighbor to Si-dom-i-na-do-tah, the old Sioux Chief, whom he so much hated. by the terms of the treaty with the Sioux Indians, their stay upon the territory, then occupied by them, would expire the following spring, at which time they would have to take up their line of march for the regions farther west. If Lott was bent on having revenge, the time was growing short in which to get it. Numerous times he visited the chief in disguise and made himself agreeable by giving him presents. During one of these visits to the wigwam of Si-dom-i-na-do-tah, the old chief unsuspectingly exhibited to him the silverware which he had taken from Mrs. Lott at the mouth of Boone River. By his actions and expressions, it was plain that he regarded them as trophies of a great victory. The sight of the silverware brought vividly back to Lott’s mind the memory of his dead wife, and immediately his thirst for vengeance was redoubled.
this silverware consisted of a set of silver spoons and a set of silver knives and forks, which were a present to Mrs. Lott from Mr. Huntington, her first husband. She had always prized them very highly.
it is not known whether the killing of Si-dom-i-na-do-tah and his family took place then and there; but it is known that Lott in some way got possession of the silverware, for he exhibited it when he reached the settlement, to John Pea, William Dickerson and O. D. Smalley. He also told each of these men that the old chief would never rob another house or cause the death of another woman. there are two stories told of the way in which Lott committed this crime, for crime it must be called. Some palliate this act by calling it justifiable killing, which may be true, so far as the chief himself was concerned, but there was no justification for the killing of his family.
One story is that the killing occurred on the even that the chief displayed his stolen silverware to Lott. Another is that early one morning Lott went to the wigwam of the chief and reported to him that he had just seen, in a beautiful valley not far away, a large number of elk, and urged the chief to go with him in pursuit of them. The chief was soon astride of his pony and , in company with Lott, was on the way to the valley mentioned in search of the elk. this story was only a ruse to get the chief away from his wigwam. On the way his life was taken and the pony on which he rode passed into the hands of a new owner. Lott then returned to the wigwam and killed the chief’s family, after which he and his stepson escaped to the settlement without being detected by the other Indians, who camped nearby.
Whichever story is the correct one, so cunningly was this crime committed that it was several weeks before it was discovered who had perpetrated it. The chief’s pony was found in the possession of Lott and his stepson, and they were finally indited by the grand jury at Des Moines. Before the officers could take them in charge however, they made their escape to the farther West, and what later became of them was never definitely known.
In September, 1903, almost fifty-seven years after the tragic death of the boy, Milton Lott, the writer of this chapter (Corydon L. Lucas) made inquiry through the press, asking if there was anyone still living who could identify the spot where the Boy’s body was laid to rest. This inquiry developed the fact that there were two men still living in Boone County who were present and assisted at his burial. These were John Pea and Thomas Sparks. On being interviewed, John Pea said he felt sure he could point out the spot.
On the morning of October 11, 1903, a party, consisting of J.F. Eppertm T.P. Menton, John Pea and C.L. Lucas, drove from the City of Boone to Centerville, on the Des Moines River. At this place John Pea was appointed guide and the other members of the party followed his lead. He turned south and passed the mouth of the creek already mentioned. At the distance of about forty rods south of this creek, and near a little rivulet, fed by a spring on the second bottom, he called a halt and exclaimed, "Here is the place," pointing to a spot near the bench which separates the lower and upper bottom at that place. "We drank water out of that little rivulet on the day of the burial," said he. Mr. Pea was very positive that this was the location of the grave. As no argument could shake his belief in this, the weeds were cleared away and a stake driven to mark the spot, the necessary notes being taken.
Some time after this stake was driven, Thomas Sparks was taken to the spot marked by the stake, by J.F. Eppert, and he also identified it as the correct location. John Robinsons, who had seen the grave a short time after the burial, also says the location is correct.
In November 1905, the Madrid Historical Society resolved to place a monument to commemorate the fact that Milton Lott was the first white person to die within the boundaries of Boone County, and to perpetuate the historic even which caused his death. This monument was manufactured by Norris Brothers, of Madrid, Boone County, Iowa, and it was placed December 18, 1905, just fifty-nine years from the time his body was found. The monument was placed on the second bottom, above high water-mark, and about thirty feet from the grave. An iron marker, a foot wide and three feet long, two inches thick, was placed on the grave.
On the day of the dedication, the writer of this chapter (Corydon L. Lucas), Dr. H.S. Farr, J.P.A. Anderson and L.D. Norris, members of the Madrid Historical Society, and Rev. W. Ernest Stockley, H.A. Oviatt and Clarence Peterson, of Madrid attended. There were also about one hundred persons from other parts of the county present, among whom were J.R. Herron, of the Boone Democrat; W.H. Gallup, of the Boone Standard; A.J. Barkley, L. Zimbleman, John Pea, J.F. Eppert and S.S. Payne, of Boone; D.C. Harmon and F.D. Harmon, of Jordan; C.K. Pattersn, of Centerville; Perry Hartman, the owner of the land on which the grave is situated; Mr. and Mrs. Henry Burgess; Joe Adamson, of Pilot Mound; James Wayne, Mr. and Mrs. A.J. Cadwell and Mrs. Joseph Herrman. The last two ladies named asked the privilege of being contributors to the monument fund.
After the monument was placed in position the blessings of God were invoked by Rev. Ernest Stockley, of the Christian Church of Madrid, followed by the dedication address by the writer (Corydon L. Lucas), president of the Madrid Historical Society. This address follows:
"My friends: The work we have done, the task we have performed, is of special historic interest to the people of Boone County, of special interest to the people of the Des Moines Valley, and of general historic interest to the people of the State of Iowa.
"We know not what the last word, or the last wail, of this unfortunate boy was, just as his spirit took it’s flight, for there was no one present to hear. We only know that his body was found here by his father and John Pea, fifty-nine years ago today, stiff and still in the embrace of the piercing frost, with his two faithful dogs keeping watch over his dead body. but alas, it was then too late for help.
"He felt no the sympathetic touch of his father’s hand, nor that of the pioneer friend who was with him. We may reasonable suppose that his last word and his last thought went back to th fond mother who had so often caressed him and whom he had last seen, a prisoner of the Sioux Chief Si-dom-i-na-do-tah and his band of warriors in the little lot cabin home at the mouth of the Boone River. The cruel fates had decreed that he should never look upon the face of that fond mother again in this world.
"When the stern Sioux chief ordered him to secure and deliver to his warriors all of the horses on the premises, on the penalty of instant death, he was so scared that he undertook to reach the settlement at Red Rock, eighty miles down the river, where the family had formerly lived. In his effort to do this he lost his life.
"My friends, this is indeed a sad and pathetic story. To perpetuate it’s history we have dedicated this monument. For the work of the Madrid Historical Society has done, it asks neither praise nor laudations. It simply felt that it had a duty to perform, and the consciousness of having discharged that duty, is, to it, a sufficient reward for it’s labor.
"To those who say that this work is an expenditure to too much time and labor for nothing, we have no reply to make. Such people should not be noticed. To the unfriendly critics who may seek to point out faults in the promoters of this work, or in the work itself, we wish to say to them, that they had fifty-nine years to produce a better work. Have they done so? Those who have given courage and friendship to this work, have our love, our thanks and our esteem. To Mr. Perry Hartman, the man who owns this land, through whose kindness and liberally we are permitted to dedicate this monument today, we extend our sincere and heartfelt thanks. To the people who have come here today to be present and assist in the dedication of this monument, we extend our most sincere thanks"
The monument is of solid iron, set in a concrete base. It is four feet high, twenty inches wide and two inches thick.
Some people think that the Indians were all alike, and that to understand the customs of one tribe was to comprehend all of them. This is a mistake. No two tribes are alike in their manner of life, customs and habits, nor their language.