Prepare to be transported back to the Kansas plains of 1872! You'll journey alongside Richard Irving Dodge, a soldier stationed at the heart of the Wild West, as he recounts the awe-inspiring sight of a massive buffalo herd numbering in the hundreds of thousands. The vast prairie comes alive as he shares tales of life at Fort Dodge and his interactions with Robert M. Wright.
But life on the plains is not all breathtaking scenery and peaceful coexistence. The episode takes a dramatic turn as we recount the fiery confrontation between Captain Reif and Captain Moore at Fort Dodge, followed by the chaos instigated by a drunken Lieutenant Turner. As we navigate through these tales, we uncover the struggles of maintaining order among soldiers and the controversies surrounding alcohol consumption. The episode concludes with a look at the aftermath as we discuss the decision to establish a township near the fort and the impending court-martial charges. Listeners of Wild West Podcast should tune in for this riveting journey into the untamed life of soldiers in the Kansas plains during the 1870s.
Return of the Great Hunters
Cattle Drives Website
Legends of Dodge City Website
Order Books
Prepare to be transported back to the Kansas plains of 1872! You'll journey alongside Richard Irving Dodge, a soldier stationed at the heart of the Wild West, as he recounts the awe-inspiring sight of a massive buffalo herd numbering in the hundreds of thousands. The vast prairie comes alive as he shares tales of life at Fort Dodge and his interactions with Robert M. Wright.
But life on the plains is not all breathtaking scenery and peaceful coexistence. The episode takes a dramatic turn as we recount the fiery confrontation between Captain Reif and Captain Moore at Fort Dodge, followed by the chaos instigated by a drunken Lieutenant Turner. As we navigate through these tales, we uncover the struggles of maintaining order among soldiers and the controversies surrounding alcohol consumption. The episode concludes with a look at the aftermath as we discuss the decision to establish a township near the fort and the impending court-martial charges. Listeners of Wild West Podcast should tune in for this riveting journey into the untamed life of soldiers in the Kansas plains during the 1870s.
Return of the Great Hunters
Cattle Drives Website
Legends of Dodge City Website
Order Books
Let's set it to About 1K on Appability. My name is Richard Irving Dodge. In May of 1872 I was stationed at Fort Larnad supporting the construction of the Atchison, topeka and Santa Fe Railroad line. The end of the track approached the town of Larnad and tapped a very rich Buffalo region in southwest Kansas. Fort Larnad stood at the confluence of Pawnee Creek and the Arkansas River. The fort provided a base for troops to protect commerce along the Santa Fe Trail. The fort also served as a distribution point to carry out government treaty obligations to the plains Indian. During the time I was stationed at the fort, the commercial traffic on the Santa Fe Trail had become practically non-existent. Indian engagements in the area had dwindled and in 1872 General Sheridan wanted to abandon Fort Larnad. Governor Harvey of Kansas felt different about Sheridan's recommendation. Harvey appealed to keep the troops in the area to protect the workmen constructing the railroad from sporadic Indian raids. Harvey's appeal won over and the military garrison remained.
Speaker 1:Once sweltering but not breezy morning in June, while stationed at Fort Larnad, I decided to thoroughly explore this region. I commandeered a horse and light wagon Setting out on my journey from the post. I traveled north to a high point on the plains understood by most folks in the region as Pawnee Rock. Pawnee Rock, a sacred high ground for the Pawnee Indians, who at one time held tribal councils on its flat top. Many of the plains' tribes used it as an observation point from which they could track and swoop down upon Buffalo herds and wagon train. During my travel to this lookout point, I remembered how my horse and wagon labored on up the trail for hours. For some miles the road wound through an open stretch of rolling country. From the seat of my buckboard I gazed over the luxuriant grass clothing the plain like a green velvet carpet, and scarcely a tree rose in view. In many places along the trail there were immense expanses covered with a thickness of flowering plants. They looked wonderfully like enormous flower gardens cultivated and trained by the hand of man. Millions of brilliant flowers scarlet, pink, vermilion, purple and yellow blossomed in wild perfusion and the air was full of intoxicating fragrance as they gently waved back and forth in the soft afternoon wind.
Speaker 1:Just before reaching my destination, I stopped by Little Creek, bordered with trees which broke the expansion of the vast prairie. At this juncture I encountered 25 miles of one immense dark blanket of buffaloes On both sides of the trail. This mighty host, grazed, browsed, wallowed and played, totally unconscious that one human eye gazed on the scene. This scene, a spectacular sight, filled every breast with varied emotions Wonder, surprise, curiosity, apprehension, for all had read about or heard of the fearful stampede of buffaloes, not unmingled with all.
Speaker 1:Once reaching the highest point of Pawnee Rock, I could see six to ten miles in all directions. From this outlook, I witnessed one of the greatest sights of my life. Stretching away from many miles, from the western base of the hill, I witnessed an unbroken plane. Level is a sleeping lake. Before me I could see one solid, dark blanket of moving animals, a herd of buffaloes so immense to even imagine being no smaller than 25 miles wide at any given point and 50 miles deep, far, far as the limit of human vision extended, scattered a vast drove of the long and eagerly expected buffaloes. To count such a herd or even to guess approximately their number became a task about as hopeless as to compute the leaves of a boundless forest. My estimate, from where I stood in the high point above the plains a count of no less than 480,000, all being in one herd. The ground literally swarmed with them and their dusky, shaggy, grotesque bodies mingled and blending, scaring away indefinitely into the mighty distance. Like a black cloud, they faded away into earth and sky at the remote line of the horizon.
Speaker 1:To my knowledge of this event beheld before me the great southern herd coming north for the summer grass. Each huge creature was in restless motion. Some browsed on the luxuriant herbage, some wallowed in the moist earth, some gambled or engaged in playful contests. A subdued, continual roar could be heard, rising from the moan-like bellowing of the countless drove. The hoof strokes of myrids of feet also produced a dull, heavy sound which, combining with the other noise, remained one of the distant lashes of the surf on a rock-bound coast. Only there was no ebb and flow. The sound was unbroken. The endless movements of the herd were as kaleidoscopic as the tossing of the troubled deep. As I looked out over this dark blanket of migrating animals, I began to reminisce back to another encounter I had with these beastly creatures Two months earlier, in command of a small detail on the Arkansas River Valley, just below Fort Dodge.
Speaker 1:The weather was cold, the wind blustering to an evening sky. Knowing we would not reach our command before sunset, I ordered my men to make camp shelter under a low steep of a bluff. I selected a pocket in the bend of the creek. My orders to the men were to post their tents and establish the wagons in close formation to one another. The men settled in for an evening and sang, chatted and laughed at the prospect of a glorious warm meal blazed by their camp fires. Darkness had come before the meal ended and the fatigued regiment all ready to seek repose and slumber. Less than an hour later, every soul except the vigilant sentries locked themselves in a strong but tender embraces of flumber.
Speaker 1:The full January moon had rose soon after the sun had sank behind the edge of the horizon and from her station high in the eastern heavens poured forth a flood of soft silvery light. The vast expanse of prairie solitude bathed with the unreal radiance and slept tranquilly. After an all-embracing crystal night, a sense of mysterious loneliness brooded over nature, which did not fail to impart its weird coloring to the rapt dreams of the sleeping and the thoughts of the waking. How strong these nocturnal influences, and yet how indefinable and subtle. The night wind toyed with the ice-brown stripped foliage. From far over the ghostly plains came the mournful hoot of the ground owl, mingled with the distant howl of the coyote and a sharp bark of the ever-washful prairie doe. The cry of some startled bird from the leafless trees scutting the frozen river bank near the sleeping camp, were gathered at brief intervals, blending with the other sounds softened by distance, nocturnal voices known only to regions remote from civilized life and isolated from human habitation, filled with strange whisperings, the dull ear of the night. After the moon's light, the Arkansas River looked like a broad ribbon of burnished steel, while its subdued voice fell softly on this sense of hearing as it rolled turbulently over its sandy bed or chafed against its low shelving banks. All in that camp slept soundly, oblivious to the lonely surroundings of moon, prairie, brook, river grove, beaster, bird. All enjoyed the brief, sweet repose that followed in the chill of the night.
Speaker 1:By midnight, each of the fires about the camp smoldered as smoke with glowing coal. It was at that moment when I became startled out of a restless sleep by a faint roar. The steady roar penetrated into the ground beneath me. My mind rushed into sudden consciousness as thoughts poured through me of every possibility from a cloud burst, or was it water rushing down from somewhere up the creek? I hurried out of my tent and in the darkness I looked upstream for a luminous line of watery foam. But the sound was not from the creek as it struck my ears. Once again, the sound came from the prairie. To add to the excitement, the ground began to rumble intensely under my feet. I could see out of the darkness a faint, unbroken line of buffalo bearing down on our camp.
Speaker 1:To my alertness of what was about to happen, I began shouting orders to the sentries. I ordered them to abandon their observation post and climb up the low bluffs. The top of the bluffs became a recognizable place where we would be separated from the camp and the prairie. The scene was one baffling description. Like the ebbing of a tremendous tide, the countless throng receded. Nothing could be seen as far as the eye could reach but one surging mass, black as night, moving like gigantic billows, while the loudest peel of thunder seemed insignificant in comparison to the confused trampling of numberless hooves.
Speaker 1:With six of us on the bluff, we positioned ourselves in a firing line. The men drew up their formations side by side in rigid alignment to maximize the effect of their firepower. The charging herd was thirty yards from us. As I ordered my men to fire at will, we commenced the firing line and bore down on the charging herd with continuous yells. The men screeched in fear, firing at will as the earth trembled beneath us. Even the continuous roll of heavy ordinance fire was not more deafening. Earth trembled as if smitten with the throes of a volcanic eruption, while the very air seemed to quiver from the tumultuous tread and trampling of the vast drove. In its wild, disordered flight, one by one the buffalo fell in front of us until a straight path into our line became no longer possible. The herd, within an instant, split, leaving us in the center of their charge. The raging herd was now on both sides of us. The men continued to fire into the body of the charge as the buffalo raced behind us, dropping over the bluff. The shot and wounded ones tumbled down into the outskirts of our campsite. The remaining men in the camp below were startled from their sleep. They were paralyzed from the gunfire, beasts tumbling from the cliff and the running herd on each side of the camp. For now we were safe from the perils of the plains. We had held our ground, saved our camp and men by holding off a run of buffalo, five thousand strong.
Speaker 1:I looked down once again from the high point of Pawnee Rock. The massive herd before me brought to mind the realities of their certain destruction. The thought of this description became a deep breath within me. I held the air into my lungs, letting out a sigh of uncertainty while releasing a thought of sadness. I knew in my heart these mammoth herds would soon be eliminated and the sight before me was to be the last of its kind. I climbed into the seat of the carriage, moved, my small wagon being once again among them traveling back to receive new orders of command. My orders have been given to me from Fort Leavenworth on June 3rd 1872, to assume command at Fort Dodge, kansas.
Speaker 1:I arrived at Fort Dodge the next day, the post being located on the north bank of the Arkansas River, between two Indian trails that crossed the stream 20 miles to the east and to the west. The fort, established in 1864, was isolated, without telegraph communications and with no large communities nearby. The only means of communication was the weekly mail. The mail reached Fort Dodge over a road from Hayes City, a stop on the Kansas Pacific Railroad 80 miles north. Upon my arrival, I found the vicinity post, an influx of an unruly population that followed the railroad. The problems immediately recognizable far outnumbered those I had encountered along the Union Pacific a few years earlier. My orders were to ensure Fort Dodge became an oasis of order and the rule of law amid conditions such as the fall of the United States.
Speaker 1:Fort Dodge consisted of stone buildings including two large warehouses, barracks for three companies of troops and a large stable for cavalry mounts. During my inspection of the fort, I visited the Seller's Store ran by Robert Wright and his partner AJ Anthony. There I found and struck up a conversation with an allowing place designed for idlers about the station. Upon questioning Mr Wright on his appointment at Post Seller, he asked me to have a seat and pulled up a chair next to me, it seems as Mr Wright had been in the area for some time. First running a hay ranch at the Cimarron Crossing along the 9-mile ridge, wright began. I worked for three years for Sanderson and Company and then became a contractor for cutting hay, wood and hauling grain. I was then appointed post trader at Fort Dodge in 1867.
Speaker 1:He told me he had been at the fort as early as the summer of 1867, where he became inflicted with cholera. He was one of the lucky ones, for there were 34 cases reported and 22 of them died. Two companies of black infantry traveling from Fort Harker may have contributed the cause of the cholera outbreak. Over the years, I have worked hard to comply with Fort regulations, Wright stated, even after being coerced by the previous commander and his officers to open a private bar for their enjoyment. When things got rough, I limited the selling of whiskey and, on occasion, closed the bar upon request. Wright then scratched his head below his hat, finishing his explanation by stating, especially after the conflict between Captains Moore and Wright, what do you mean, I asked. Well, it seems the two captains were at odds with each other, explained Wright. It was as if he had a feud going on between them.
Speaker 1:Captain Reif I believe his first name to be Joseph had been transferred for the post nine days before the incident occurred. Captain Reif was refreshing himself at my bar when Captain Moore came through for a drink, said Wright, pointing in the direction of the bar. Wright continued Reif, on seeing Captain Moore left the bar, stated he was retiring for the evening. The aversion between them was noticeable, for it caused them to glare hatred through their eyes at one to the other. Afterward I had served up a shot to Captain Moore, bragged Wright. He told me his first name being Orlando and he was on his way from Fort Hayes passing through to Fort Supply. He said that Captain Reif was lucky he did not stay long, for he would have received a good bashing.
Speaker 1:Not long after those words left Captain Moore's lips, I saw the tail end of a raw-eyed whip strike Moore in the back. Moore went to his knees while he screamed in pain. The next thing I saw was Captain Reif who had returned from his quarters, standing over Moore. Reif had a grin on his face, a pistol in his belt, while pulling back on the whip. He then struck Captain Moore several times. Moore then answered with his fist, hitting Reif to the jaw. Several bystanders separated them, but Reif, being undeterred, pulled his pistol and shot Moore.
Speaker 1:At this point in Wright's story I became angry about the conduct of the men stationed at the fort and closed. To close my conversation with Mr Wright, I simply asked how bad were Moore's injuries. Mr Wright concluded by saying Moore he was lucky that day he was not wounded or killed by Captain Reif, for the lead ball from the pistol shot glanced off Moore's pocket watch, said Wright as he leaned back in his chair. After hearing Wright's testimony, I instantly stood up from the table I was sitting. I looked down at Mr Wright, stating to him that selling whiskey on the fort was nota favorable enterprise. Leaving Wright's place, I provided him with the need to have further discussions about an alternative plan, one not including whiskey sales on the fort premises.
Speaker 1:A month had passed before another drunken instance occurred on the post in July of 1872. This incident involves 2nd Lieutenant Edward P Turner, 10th Cavalry Turner was then stationed at Camp Supply was ordered, with some of his men, to escort an officer of the quartermaster department, captain Ezra P Kirk, on his 90 mile journey north to Fort Dodge. Turner and his men were crossing over the Arkansas River on their detail back from Fort Supply when the supply wagon they escorted bogged down in the mud. Turner, being discouraged with the situation and being within the vicinity of Fort Dodge, ordered his men to leave both supply wagon and mules. Evidently he was drunk by the time he reached the settler's store, for Turner began drinking with his men. Turner, a former private soldier, was noted to be on companionable terms with his men. It was not long before I was informed of Turner's arrival.
Speaker 1:The report claimed the uninhibited Turner had ridden his horse into the soldier's billiard room, fired a shot in the store and tried to ride into Bob Wright's private residence. Hurring to the scene, I found him in the ballroom, obviously roaring drunk, and ordered him arrested. But Turner, armed and potentially dangerous, defied my orders. It would take an armed party to arrest me. He boasted being post commander. I wanted to avoid serious injury to anyone.
Speaker 1:I approached Turner with caution and managed to get my arms around him while the officer of the day, captain Edward Moore, 3rd Infantry, took away his pistol. I then stepped back, urging Turner to behave sensibly and obey my order of arrest. But the drunken Turner responded to me by calling out to his men for assistance and lunging forward, striking me with his fists. When I thought I had taken as many blows as I ought to be called upon to bear, I knocked him down with a billiard cue and had him taken to the guardhouse. Shortly afterward I ordered an escort for Lieutenant Turner to force supply.
Speaker 1:Second, lieutenant Turner, in chains and under guard by 2nd Lieutenant Sabrie Smith, would reach his post together with his men to face charges that led to a trial by Court Marshall. I can only say here that the incident with Lieutenant Turner and his men forced my decision to lay out plans to organize a township five miles west of the fort. The time had come to have further discussion with Mr Wright about an alternative plan. So make sure you subscribe to our shows listed at the end of the description text of this podcast to receive notifications on all new episodes. Thanks for listening to our podcast. If you have any questions or want to add to our series, please write us at Wild West Podcast at gmailcom. We will share your thoughts as they apply to future episodes.