USA > Kansas > Ford County > Dodge City > Dodge City, the cowboy capital, and the great Southwest in the days of the wild Indian, the buffalo, the cowboy, dance halls, gambling halls and bad men > Part 22
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The last visit General Sheridan made at Dodge was in 1872. He brought his whole staff with him. General Forsyth was his aide-de-camp, I think, and his brother, Mike, was along. I had known Mike for some time before this, when he was captain in the Seventh Cavalry. I was also well acquainted with the other brother, who held a clerkship at Camp Supply-a most excellent gentleman. During his stay, General Sheridan and his staff, with the officers of the post, were dining at my house. They had all been drinking freely before dinner of whisky, brandy, and punch, except Mike Sheridan. These liquors were all left in the parlor when we went in to dinner, and there was an abundance of light wine on the dinner-table. When dinner was nearly over an important dispatch came. The General read it and handed it to General For- syth, requesting him to answer it. With that Captain Sheridan jumped up and said to General Forsyth: "You are not half through your dinner yet, and I am; so let me answer, and submit to you for review." He then request- ed me to get paper and pen and go with him to the parlor. As soon as we reached the parlor the Captain grabbed me by the arm, and said, "For God's sake, Wright, get me some of that good brandy, and say not a word about it." I replied, "There it is. Help yourself." He took two gen- erous glasses and then wrote the dispatch.
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The last time I had the pleasure of seeing General Sheridan was at Newton. I was on my way to Kansas City, and stopped there to get supper. I was told that General Sheridan was in his private car. I called on him as soon as I got my supper. He knew me in a minute and received me most graciously. Not so with the brother, Captain Mike, whom I had taken care of many times and seen that he was properly put to bed. He pretended not to know me. "Why," said the General, "You ought to know Mr. Wright. He was the sutler at Fort Dodge, and so often entertained us at his home." I responded to the General that I was surprised that he knew me so quickly. "I knew you as soon as I saw you," he replied, and then began to inquire about all the old scouts and mule drivers, and wanted to know what they were doing and where they had drifted, including many men whom I had forgotten, until he mentioned their names. He said that he had been sent down by President Cleveland to inquire into the Indian leases entered into by the cattle- men. We talked about old times and old faces way into midnight, and even then he did not want me to go.
In the fall of 1868 General Alfred Sully took com- mand of Fort Dodge and fitted out an expedition for a winter campaign against the Plains Indians. He was one of the grand old style of army officers, kind-hearted and true, a lover of justice and fair play. Though an able officer and a thorough gentleman at all times, he was a little too much addicted to the drink habit. When Gen- eral Sully had gotten the preparations for the expedition well under way, and his army ready to march, General Custer was placed in command by virtue of his brevet rank, and the old man was sent home. This action, as I am told, broke General Sully's heart, and he was never again any good to the service.
General Custer carried out the winter campaign, per- sistently following the Indians through the cold and snow
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into their winter fastnesses, where never white man had trod before, not even the trusted trader, until he surprised them in their winter camp on the Washita, south of the Canadian. There was a deep snow on the ground at the time. The scouts had come in soon after midnight with the report of a big camp. "Boots and saddles" was sounded, and soon all were on the march. The command reached the vicinity of the Indian camp some time before daylight, but waited until the first streak of day, which was the signal for the charge. Then the whole force went into the fight, the regimental band playing, "Gary Owen." They charged through the camp and back, capturing or killing every warrior in sight. But the camp was the first of a series of Indian camps extending down the narrow valley of the Washita for perhaps ten miles, and Custer had only struck the upper end of it.
I have been told by good authority that early in the attack Major Elliott's horse ran away with him, taking him down the creek. Elliott was followed by some twenty of his men, they thinking, of course, that he was charging the Indians. It was but a few moments until he was entirely cut off, and urged on further from General Cus- ter's main force. Custer remained in the Indian camp, destroying the tents and baggage of the Indians, until in the afternoon, and finally, after the Indian women captives had selected the ponies they chose to ride, de- stroyed the balance of the herd, about eight hundred ponies in all. He then left the camp, following the stream down to the next village, which he found deserted. It was then dusk. When night had fallen he retraced his way with all speed to the first village, and out by the way he had come in the morning, toward Camp Supply. He continued his march until he came up with his pack- train, which, having been under the protection of only eighty men, he had feared would be captured by the Indians, had he allowed it to have come on alone.
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G. M. HOOVER
Banker and One of the Seven Old Timers of Dodge City
Now, I do not want to judge Custer too harshly, for I know him to have been a brave and dashing soldier, and he stood high in my estimation as such, but I have often heard his officers say that it was cowardly deed to have gone off and left Elliott in the way he did. Many officers claim that Custer realized that he was surrounded and outnumbered by the Indians, and this was the reason he left Elliott as he did. The facts are that he should never have attacked the village until he had more thor- oughly investigated the situation and knew what he was running into. Some of his own officers have condemned and censured him, talking about him scandalously for thus leaving Elliott. I cannot, however, see how he could have been badly whipped when he brought away with him about fifty-seven prisoners, besides having captured and killed so large a number of ponies.
This is the story of Major Elliott as told to me by Little Raven, chief of the Arapahoes, but who was not present at the time. He was my friend, and I always found him truthful and fair. He said that, when Major Elliott's horse ran away with him, followed by about twenty of his men, Elliott was soon cut off and surround- ed by hundreds of Indians, who drove him some three to five miles from Custer's main body at the village, bravely fighting at every step. After getting him well away from Custer, the Indians approached him with a flag of truce, telling him that Custer was surrounded and unable to give him any help, and that, if he and his men would sur- render, they would be treated as prisoners of war. Elliott told them he would never give up. He would cut his way back to Custer, or that Custer would send a detachment to his relief sooner or later. As soon as this announce- ment was made the young men who had gotten closer, without further warning, and before Elliott could prop- erly protect himself, poured in volley after volley, mow- ing down most of Elliott's horses. He then commanded
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his men to take to the rocks afoot, and to keep together as close as possible, until they could find some suitable protection where they could make a stand. They did this and stood the Indians off for nearly two days, without food or water, and almost without sleep or ammunition. They were then again approached with a flag of truce. This time they told Elliott it was impossible for him to get away, which he fully realized. They said that Custer had been gone for two days in full retreat to Supply, and that he had taken with him fifty of their women and children, whom he would hold as hostages, and that if he and his men would lay down their arms they would be treated fairly, and held as hostages for the good treatment and safety of their women and children. They repeated that Custer would be afraid to be harsh or cruel or un- kind to their women and children because he knew that, if he was, Major Elliott and his soldiers would be subject to the same treatment. Elliott explained the whole thing to his men, and reasoned with them that under these circumstances the Indians could not help but be fair. The consequences was that Elliott and his men accepted the terms and laid down their arms. No sooner had they done so than the Indians rushed in and killed the last one of them. The older Indians claimed that they could not restrain their young men. I have do doubt that this is the true story, and that thus perished one of the bravest of- ficers with a squad of the bravest men in our whole army. The only other officer killed in the fight was Captain Hamilton, when the first charge was made. He was a bright fellow, full of life and fun.
Among the other great men who came to Dodge City was "Uncle Billy Sherman", as he introduced himself. He came with President Hayes and party in September, 1879. The president did not get out of his car, and would not respond to the call of the cowboys, who felt that they deserved some recognition. It was a long time even
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before "Old Tecumseh", could be induced to strike the pace and lead off. But the cheerfulness, the hilarity, and the endless jokes of the half-drunken cowboys, who had been holloing for the President until they had become disgusted because of his lack of interest in them, induced the general to appear. Then they called for Sherman in a manner indicating that they considered him their equal and an old comrade. Although half of those cowboys had been soldiers in the Confederate army, this seemed to make no difference in their regard for the old war- horse. They had an intuitive feeling that, no matter how they scandalized him, Sherman would be fair and treat them justly. I was astonished that their surmise was right, for when General Sherman appeared he handed them bouquet for bouquet. No matter on what topic they touched, or what questions they asked, he gave them back as good as they sent, answering them in the same generous humor. Before the close of the General's talk some of the crowd were getting pretty drunk, and I looked to see a display of bad feeling spring up, but noth- ing of the kind occurred, for the General was equal to the occasion and handled the crowd most beautifully. Indeed, it was laughable at times, when the General rose way above his surroundings and sat down on their coarse, drunken jokes so fitly and admirably, that one could not help but cheer him. He had the crowd with him all the while and enlisted their better feeling, notwithstanding more than half of them were Southern sympathizers.
President Hayes paid but little attention to the crowd the whole day, nor the crowd to him, but General Sher- man kept it in good humor, and the presidential party at last left Dodge City amid strong cheers for "Uncle Billy," a long life and a happy one.
In a previous chapter mention was made of the visits of Senator Ingalls and of the Major-General who was once second in command at Gettysburg. These were fair
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representatives of the class of distinguished visitors who came especially for sight-seeing.
One Thursday the citizens of Dodge City were agree- ably surprised by the arrival, in their midst, of the once famous political boss of the state, Ex-Governor Thomas Carney, of Leavenworth. He was observed in close com- munion with one of our leading citizens, Honorable R. W. Evans.
The Governor said he was buying hides and bones for a large firm in St. Louis, of which he was president, but he told some of his old-time friends of Dodge that he was here to hunt up a poker game, in which game he was an expert, and he wanted to teach the gamblers of Dodge a lesson, and give them some pointers for their future benefit. The governor's reputation and dignified bearing soon enabled him to decoy three of our business men into a social game of poker, as the governor re- marked, "just to kill time, you know."
The governor's intended victims were Colonel Nor- ton, wholesale dealer, the "Honorable" Bobby Gill, and Charles Ronan, old-time friends of his, formerly from Leavenworth. The game proceeded merrily and festively for a time until, under the bracing influence of exhilerat- ing refreshments, the stakes were greatly increased and the players soon became excitedly interested. At last the gov- ernor held what he supposed to be an invincible hand. It consisted of four kings and cuter, which the governor very reasonably supposed to be the ace of spades. He had been warned about the cuter before he began the game. He said he understood the cuter to represent an ace or a flush and was accustomed to playing it that way. The old gentleman tried to repress his delight and appear unconcerned when Colonel Norton tossed a hundred dollar bill into the pot, but he saw the bet and went a hundred better. Norton did not weaken as the governor feared he would, but, nonchalantly, raised the old gent
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what he supposed was a fabulous bluff. Governor Car- ney's eyes glistened with joy, as he saw the pile of treas- ure, which would soon be all his own, loom up before his vision, and he hastened to "see" the colonel and added the remainder of his funds, his elegant gold watch and chain. Norton was still in the game, and the gov- ernor finally stripped himself of all remaining valuables, when it became necessary for him to show up his hand.
A breathless silence pervaded the room as Governor Carney spread his four kings and cuter on the table with his left hand, and affectionately encircled the glittering heap of gold and silver, greenbacks and precious stones, with his right arm, preparatory to raking in the spoils. But at that moment, a sight met the old governor's gaze which caused his eyes to dilate with terror, a fearful tremor to seize his frame, and his vitals to almost freeze with horror.
Right in front of Colonel Norton was spread four genuine and perfectly formed aces, and the hideous reality that four aces laid over four kings and the cuter gradual- ly forced itself upon the mind of our illustrious hide and bone merchant. Slowly and reluctantly he uncoiled his arm from around the sparkling treasure, the bright, joyous look faded from his eyes leaving them gloomy and cadaverous, and, with a weary almost painful effort, he arose, and dragging his feet over the floor like balls of lead, he left the room sadly muttering, "I forgot about the cuter."
Now, the governor's old friends, R. M. Wright and R. W. Evans had warned him and pleaded with him not to try gambling here, and even watched him all the morn- ing to keep him out of mischief; but he stole away from them and got into this game which was awaiting him. Through his friends he recovered his watch and chain and they saw him safely on the train in possession of a ticket for St. Louis.
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As a character figuring conspicuously in the visit of Senator Ingalls to Dodge City, I must mention my horse, Landsmann. Or better, I will let his story be told in its greater part by Miss Carrie DeVoe, who often rode with me behind the old horse, who was the only woman who would ride behind him, and who would ride behind him with no one else but me, because she had so much confi- dence in my driving. I would often cover seventy-five miles a day, and fifty or sixty miles a day was easy work for him, while I have driven him about a hundred miles a day more than once, and over a hundred miles in twenty-four hours. Miss De Voe's story follows:
"Robert M. Wright, who, in the early days, possessed thousands of acres of land scattered throughout the length and breadth of the short grass region, was the owner of a horse of such strange behavior that it deserves to go on record with the odd characters of the border.
"Landsmann (a German word meaning friend or farmer) was originally the property of an officer who served under Maxmillian in Mexico and afterwards wan- dered north into the United States, becoming, at length, a frontier county official. The horse accompanied his master through many dangers, and was spirited, though gentle and faithful. But, as he advanced in years, Lands- mann was supposed to become addicted to the loco weed, for a change was noticeable. It was no easy matter to put him in the harness; he reared and plunged without the slightest provocation, and grew generally unmanage- able-'full of all around cussedness,' said Joe, who usual- ly fed and cared for him. However, because of his re- markable endurance, Mr. Wright purchased him for a driving horse.
"Invariably, when the owner essayed to step into the cart, Landsmann sprang forward, and his master was obliged to leap to the seat or measure his length upon the ground, sometimes perilously near to the wheels.
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When the horse came to a halt, which was difficult to accomplish, the driver was often taken unawares and hurled forward over the traces for a short bareback ex- hibition.
"Landsmann's chief peculiarity was his speed. He dashed over the prairie at a surprising rate, down into draws and up the banks, over dry beds of rivers, across pastures and ranches, never seeming to tire, and allowing no obstacle to stop his mad race. John Gilpin's renowned steed was tame in comparison. To be sure, this kind of travel was not without its inconveniences, as Pegasus sometimes fell in the harness; however, he always man- aged to pick himself up and sped onward as if possessed of the 'Old Nick', which, indeed, many believed him to be.
"When the late Senator John J. Ingalls visited Mr. Wright, he was invited to take a drive. Not being ac- quainted with Landsmann's reputation, he accepted. Nothing daunted by the animal's efforts to wrench him- self from the man who stood at his head, the senator reached the seat in safety, and his host, with a flying leap, landed at his side. The visitor began to wish he had not been so hasty; but there was little time for reflection. A spring-a whirl-and they were off across the plains. Spectators caught a passing glimpse of the dignified statesman, wildly clutching the seat and bending his head to the wind.
"It was an exciting experience and one hardly to be desired, but they returned in safety. The vitriolic senator was diplomatic.
"Like most of the interesting characters out west, Landsmann is dead, and though he died in the harness, maneuvering as usual, his master insisted-and perhaps with good reason-that his untimely end was caused by poison. At any rate, the old horse ought to go down in
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history, as he was one of the landmarks of the short- grass region."
Miss DeVoe knew that no horse would attempt to pass Landsmann. The day before he died, after making more than fifty miles and coming into Dodge, he came in contact with a runaway team, and off started the old horse whom you would have thought was completely tired out. But he ran all over Dodge, at a high rate of speed, before I could stop him.
As Miss DeVoe says, I did think, at first, Landsmann was poisoned but he was loose in his stall and, in lying down, got his head under the manger, and died during the night, from the dangerous position he was in.
And here I want to interpolate a little in order to give the gist of the conversation with Senator Ingalls before taking the ride described. There was quite a crowd in front of the hotel, to pay respects to the senator when I invited him to ride to Fort Dodge with me. The crowd followed us to the livery stable, everyone saying to the senator, "My God, Senator! don't ride behind that horse; he will kill you. I would sooner give you my horse." Others said: "Never do it. We will hire you a rig if you won't. "The senator said, "Bob, what is the matter with the horse?" I replied, "Nothing." "Why, then, are they making such a fuss?" asked the senator. "Oh," I said, "they are a lot of geese and cowards! Come on." He said, "Bob, is it safe?" I said, "Ain't I taking the same risk you are?" He said, "That is so; crack your whip!" and away we went. He said, "Bob, is he so very dangerous?" "You see him, don't you?" I answered. "Yes, did he ever run away with you?" "Yes." "How many times?" "I don't know." "Many times?" "Yes." "Did he ever throw you out?" "Yes."
When we returned and were drinking a bottle of "ice-cold" together, the senator said: "Bob, that is the best G- d- horse for his looks I ever saw, and I never
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was more deceived in a horse. It is the fastest ten miles [ ever drove."
General Miles has been frequently mentioned in these pages, as a sojourner at Fort Dodge and Dodge City. I give here a letter from Mrs. Alice V. Brown, a former resident of Dodge City and Fort Dodge and a sergeant's wife, because it reflects my ideas of the gallant General Miles. It is dated, Tongue River, M. T., May, 1867, and says:
"We have been out twelve days on a scout. On our return, General Miles had gone out on an expedition with six hundred men. We expect them back about the last of May. General Miles had a fight on the sixth of May. He returned today with four hundred ponies. He had four men of the Second Cavalry killed, and one officer and four men wounded. The fight took place near the Little Big Horn, where General Custer was killed. There were forty-seven Indians found dead on the field. The mounted infantry charged through the Indian camp. The only cavalry he had was four companies of the Second, and they fought well. They say General Miles is the only officer who ever led them yet, and speak very highly of him. We told them, before they went out, he would show them how to fight. Everything in the Indian camp was burned. This is the greatest victory yet. Red Horn, a chief of some note, made a treacherous attempt to kill General Miles. He came in, during the fight, with a flag of truce, and, as the General rode up close to him, he fired. He missed the general but killed one of the cavalry dead on the spot. That was Red Horn's last shot; he fell instantly, riddled with bullets. The general has had several close calls, but I believe this was the closest."
The writer wishes he had space to pay a much deserv- ed tribute or compliment to General Miles, about his inde- fatigable trailing up of the Indians. His system is like the wild horse trailers; when he strikes a scent he never
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gives up until he has trailed Mr. Indian to earth, and compelled him to fight or surrender.
Eddie Foy, one of the greatest comedians of our day, made his debut or about his first appearance at Dodge City. He dressed pretty loud and had a kind of Fifth Avenue swaggering strut, and made some distasteful jokes about the cowboys. This led up to their capturing Foy by roping, fixing him up in picturesque style, ducking him, in a friendly way, in a horse trough, riding him around on horseback, and taking other playful familiari- ities with him, just to show their friendship for him. This dressing up and ducking of Eddie is positively vouched for by a lady with whom he boarded, and who still lives in Dodge City. The writer does not vouch for the story of the ducking, but he does know they played several pranks on him, which Foy took with such good grace that he thereby captured the cowboys completely. Every night his theater was crowded with them, and nothing he could do or say offended them; but, on the contrary, they made a little god of him. The good people of Dodge have watched his upward career with pride and pleasure, and have always taken a great interest in him, and claim him as one of their boys, because it was here that he first began to achieve greatness. I think he played here the most of one summer, and then went to Leadville, Colorado, when and where he kept going up and up. His educated ad- mirers here predicted a great future for him. This, the writer has heard them do, and, surely, he has not disap- pointed them. Here is further success and prosperity to you, Eddie, and may you live long and die happy!
In connection with noted individuals who, from time to time, honored Dodge City with their prescence, usually coming from a distance and making a transient stay, it is well to mention a few of the leading residents of Dodge, to whose pluck and perseverance the town owed so much of its early fame and prosperity. No better beginning
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could be made, in this line, than by introducing the Mas- terson brothers.
William Barclay Masterson, more familiarly called "Bat," by his friends, and one of the most notable char- acters of the West, was one of Dodge City's first citizens, and, for this reason if no other, deserves a space in my book.
He, with a partner, took a contract of grading a few miles of the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railroad, near Dodge. He was only eighteen years old at the time; this was in the spring of 1872. He says that he never worked so hard in his life, in filling this contract, which they did, with a nice little profit to their credit, of which he was very proud; but his partner ran off with everything, leav- ing him flat broke. He said it nearly broke his heart, grieving over his loss and over the perfidy of his partner, as he was only a boy, and the world looked dark and dreary. But this misfortune proved a benefit to him eventually, as he gained a lot of experience from the episode, and had many hearty laughs over it afterwards.
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