THE OLD SANTA FE TRAIL, COLONEL HENRY INMAN [well read books .txt] 📗

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Upon The Colonel Devolved the Entire Charge Of The Busy Establishment.

It Soon Became The Most Popular Rendezvous Of The Mountaineers And

Trappers, And In its Immediate Vicinity Several Tribes Of Indians

Took Up Their Temporary Encampment.

 

 

 

In 1852 Fort William Was Destroyed under The Following Strange

Circumstances: It Appears That The United states Desired to Purchase

It.  Colonel Bent Had Decided upon A Price--Sixteen Thousand Dollars--

But The Representatives Of The War Department Offered only Twelve

Thousand, Which, Of Course, Bent Refused.  Negotiations Were Still

Pending, When The Colonel, Growing Tired of The Red-Tape And

Circumlocution Of The Authorities, And While In a Mad Mood, Removed

All His Valuables From The Structure, Excepting Some Barrels Of

Gunpowder, And Then Deliberately Set Fire To The Old Landmark.

When The Flames Reached the Powder, There Was An Explosion Which

Threw Down Portions Of The Walls, But Did Not Wholly Destroy Them.

The Remains Of The Once Noted buildings Stand To-Day, Melancholy

Relics Of A Past Epoch.

 

 

 

In The Same Year The Indefatigable And Indomitable Colonel Determined

Upon Erecting a Much More Important Structure.  He Selected a Site

On The Same Side Of The Arkansas, In the Locality Known As Big Timbers.

Regarding This New Venture, Colonel Or Judge Moore Of Las Animas,

A Son-In-Law Of William Bent, Tells In a Letter To The Author Of

The History Of Colorado The Following Facts:--

 

 

 

          Leaving Ten Men In camp To Get Out Stone For The New Post,

          Colonel Bent Took A Part Of His Outfit And Went To A Kiowa

          Village, About Two Hundred miles Southwest, And Remained

          There All Winter, Trading With The Kiowas And Comanches.

          In the Spring Of 1853 He Returned to Big Timbers, When

          The Construction Of The New Post Was Begun, And The Work

          Continued until Completed in the Summer Of 1854; And It

          Was Used as A Trading-Post Until The Owner Leased it To

          The Government In the Autumn Of 1859.  Colonel Sedgwick Had

          Been Sent Out To Fight The Kiowas That Year, And In the Fall

          A Large Quantity Of Commissary Stores Had Been Sent Him.

          Colonel Bent Then Moved up The River To A Point Just Above

          The Mouth Of The Purgatoire, And Built Several Rooms Of

          Cottonwood Pickets, And There Spent The Winter.  In the

          Spring Of 1860, Colonel Sedgwick Began The Construction Of

          Officers' Buildings, Company Quarters, Corrals, And Stables,

          All Of Stone, And Named the Place Fort Wise, In honour Of

          Governor Wise Of Virginia.  In 1861 The Name Was Changed to

          Fort Lyon, In honour Of General Lyon, Who Was Killed at The

          Battle Of Wilson Creek, Missouri.  In the Spring Of 1866,

          The Arkansas River Overflowed its Banks, Swept Up Into The

          Fort, And, Undermining The Walls, Rendered it Untenable For

          Military Purposes.  The Camp Was Moved to A Point Twenty

          Miles Below, And The New Fort Lyon Established.  The Old

          Post Was Repaired, And Used as A Stage Station By Barlow,

          Sanderson, And Company, Who Ran A Mail, Express, And

          Passenger Line Between Kansas City And Santa Fe.

 

 

 

The Contiguous Region To Fort William Was In the Early Days A Famous

Hunting-Ground.  It Abounded in nearly Every Variety Of Animal

Indigenous To The Mountains And Plains, Among Which Were The Panther

--The So-Called california Lion Of To-Day--The Lynx, Erroneously Termed

Wild Cat, White Wolf, Prairie Wolf, Silver-Gray Fox, Prairie Fox,

Antelope, Buffalo, Gray, Grizzly And Cinnamon Bears, Together With

The Common Brown And Black Species, The Red deer And The Black-Tail,

The Latter The Finest Venison In the World.  Of Birds There Were

Wild Turkeys, Quail, And Grouse, Besides An Endless Variety Of The

Smaller-Sized families, Not Regarded as Belonging To The Domain Of

Game In a Hunter'S Sense.  It Was A Veritable Paradise, Too, For The

Trappers.  Its Numerous Streams And Creeks Were Famous For Beaver,

Otter, And Mink.

 

 

 

Scarcely An Acre Of The Surrounding area Within The Radius Of

Hundreds Of Miles But Has Been The Scene Of Many Deadly Encounters

With The Wily Red man, Stories Of Which Are Still Current Among The

Few Old Mountaineers Yet Living.

 

 

 

The Fort Was Six Hundred and Fifty Miles West Of Fort Leavenworth,

In Latitude Thirty-Eight Degrees And Two Minutes North, And Longitude

One Hundred and Three Degrees And Three Minutes West, From Greenwich.

The Exterior Walls Of The Fort, Whose Figure Was That Of A Parallelogram,

Were Fifteen Feet High And Four Feet Thick.  It Was A Hundred and

Thirty-Five Feet Wide And Divided into Various Compartments.  On The

Northwest And Southeast Corners Were Hexagonal Bastions, In which

Were Mounted a Number Of Cannon.  The Walls Of The Building Served

As The Walls Of The Rooms, All Of Which Faced inwards On A Plaza,

After The General Style Of Mexican Architecture.  The Roofs Of The

Rooms Were Made Of Poles, On Which Was A Heavy Layer Of Dirt, As In

The Houses Of Native Mexicans To-Day.  The Fort Possessed a Billiard

Table, That Visitors Might Amuse Themselves, And In the Office Was

A Small Telescope With A Fair Range Of Seven Miles.

 

 

 

The Occupants Of The Far-Away Establishment, In its Palmy Days

(For Years It Was The Only Building Between Council Grove And The

Mountains), Were Traders, Indians, Hunters, And French Trappers,

Who Were The Employees Of The Great Fur Companies.  Many Of The Latter

Had Indian Wives.  Later, After A Stage Line Had Been Put In operation

Across The Plains To Santa Fe, The Fort Was Relegated to A Mere

Station For The Overland Route, And With The March Of Civilization

In Its Course Westward, The Trappers, Hunters, And Traders Vanished

From The Once Famous Rendezvous.

 

 

 

The Walls Were Loopholed for Musketry, And The Entrance To The Plaza,

Or Corral, Was Guarded by Large Wooden Gates.  During The War With

Mexico, The Fort Was Headquarters For The Commissary Department,

And Many Supplies Were Stored there, Though The Troops Camped below

On The Beautiful River-Bottom.  In the Centre Of The Corral, In the

Early Days When The Place Was A Rendezvous Of The Trappers, A Large

Buffalo-Robe Press Was Erected.  When The Writer First Saw The Famous

Fort, Now Over A Third Of A Century Ago, One Of The Cannon, That

Burst In firing a Salute To General Kearney, Could Be Seen Half

Buried in the Dirt Of The Plaza.

 

 

 

By Barometrical Measurements Taken By The Engineer Officers Of The

Army At Different Times, The Height Of Bent'S Fort Above The Ocean

Level Is Approximately Eight Thousand Nine Hundred and Fifty-Eight

Feet, And The Fall Of The Arkansas River From The Fort To The Great

Bend Of That Stream, About Three Hundred and Eleven Miles East,

Is Seven Feet And Four-Tenths Per Mile.

 

 

 

It Was In a Relatively Fair State Of Preservation Thirty-Three Years

Ago, But Now Not A Vestige Of It Remains, Excepting Perhaps A Mound

Of Dirt, The Disintegration Of The Mud Bricks Of Which The Historical

Structure Was Built.

 

 

 

The Indians Whose Villages Were Located a Few Miles Below The Fort,

Or At Least The Chief Men Of The Various Tribes, Passed much Of Their

Time Within The Shelter Of The Famous Structure.  They Were Bountifully

Fed, And Everything They Needed furnished them.  This Was Purely From

Policy, However; For If Their Wishes Were Not Gratified, Their

Hunters Would Not Bring In their Furs To Trade.  The Principal Chiefs

Never Failed to Be Present When A Meal Was Announced as Ready, And

However Scarce Provisions Might Be, The Indians Must Be Fed.

 

 

 

The First Farm In the Fertile And Now Valuable Lands Of The Valley Of

The Rio De Las Animas[60] Was Opened by The Bents.  The Area Selected

For Cultivation Was In the Beautiful Bottom Between The Fort And The

Ford, A Strip About A Mile In length, And From One Hundred and Fifty

To Six Hundred feet In width.  Nothing Could Be Grown Without Irrigation,

And To That End An Acequia, As The Mexicans Call The Ditch Through

Which The Water Flows, Was Constructed, And A Crop Put In.  Before

The Enterprising Projectors Of The Scheme Could Reap A Harvest,

The Hostile Savages Dashed in and Destroyed everything.

 

 

 

Uncle John Smith Was One Of The Principal Traders Back In the '30'S,

And He Was Very Successful, Perhaps Because He Was Undoubtedly The

Most Perfect Master Of The Cheyenne Language At That Time In the

Whole Mountain Region.

 

 

 

Among Those Who Frequently Came To The Fort Were Kit Carson,

L. B. Maxwell, Uncle Dick Wooton, Baptiste Brown, Jim Bridger,

Old Bill Williams, James Beckwourth, Shawnee Spiebuck, Shawnee Jake

--The Latter Two, Noted indian Trappers--Besides A Host Of Others.

 

 

 

The Majority Of The Old Trappers, To A Stranger, Until He Knew Their

Peculiar Characteristics, Were Seemingly Of An Unsociable Disposition.

It Was An Erroneous Idea, However; For They Were The Most Genial

Companions Imaginable, Generous To A Fault, And To Fall Into One Of

Their Camps Was Indeed a Lucky Thing For The Lost Traveller.

Everything The Host Had Was At His Guest'S Disposal, And Though

Coffee And Sugar Were The Dearest Of His Luxuries, Often Purchased

With A Whole Season'S Trapping, The Black Fluid Was Offered with

Genuine Free-Heartedness, And The Last Plug Of Tobacco Placed at The

Disposition Of His Chance Visitor, As Though It Could Be Picked up

On The Ground Anywhere.

 

 

 

Goods Brought By The Traders To The Rendezvous For Sale To The

Trappers And Hunters, Although Of The Most Inferior Quality, Were

Sold At Enormously High Prices.

 

 

 

Coffee, By The Pint-Cup, Which Was The Usual Measure For Everything,

Cost From A Dollar And Twenty Cents To Three Dollars; Tobacco A Dollar

And A Half A Plug; Alcohol From Two Dollars To Five Dollars A Pint;

Gunpowder One Dollar And Sixty Cents A Pint-Cup, And All Other

Articles At Proportionably Exorbitant Rates.

 

 

 

The Annual Gatherings Of The Trappers At The Rendezvous Were Often

The Scene Of Bloody Duels; For Over Their Cups And Cards No Men Were

More Quarrelsome Than The Old-Time Mountaineers.  Rifles At Twenty

Paces Settled all Difficulties, And, As May Be Imagined, The Fall

Of One Or The Other Of The Combatants Was Certain, Or, As Sometimes

Happened, Both Fell At The Word "Fire!"

 

 

 

The Trapper'S Visits To The Mexican Settlements, Or To The Lodges

Of A Tribe Of Indians, For The Purpose Of Trading, Often Resulted

In His Returning To His Quiet Camp With A Woman To Grace His Solitary

Home, The Loving and Lonely Couple As Devoted to Each Other In the

Midst Of Blood-Thirsty Enemies, Howling Wolves, And Panthers, As If

They Were In some Quiet Country Village.

 

 

 

The Easy Manners Of The Harum-Scarum, Reckless Trappers At The

Rendezvous, And The Simple, Unsuspecting Hearts Of Those Nymphs Of

The Mountains, The Squaws, Caused their Husbands To Be Very Jealous

Of The Attentions Bestowed upon Them By Strangers.  Often Serious

Difficulties Arose, In the Course Of Which The Poor Wife Received

A Severe Whipping With The Knot Of A Lariat, Or No Very Light

Lodge-Poling at The Hands Of Her Imperious Sovereign.  Sometimes

The Affair Ended in a More Tragical Way Than A Mere Beating, Not

Infrequently The Gallant Paying The Penalty Of His Interference With

His Life.

 

 

 

Garrard, A Traveller On The Great Plains And In the Rocky Mountains

Half A Century Ago, From Whose Excellent Diary I Have Frequently

Quoted, Passed many Days And Nights At Bent'S Fort Fifty Years Ago,

And His Quaint Description Of Life There In that Remote Period Of

The Extreme Frontier Is Very Amusing.  Its Truth Has Often Been

Confirmed by Uncle John Smith, Who Was My Guide And Interpreter In

The Indian Expedition Of 1868-69, Only Two Decades After Garrard'S

Experience.

 

 

 

Rosalie, A Half-Breed french And Indian Squaw, Wife Of The Carpenter,

And Charlotte, The Culinary Divinity, Were, As A Missouri Teamster

Remarked, "The Only Female Women Here."  They Were Nightly Led to

The Floor To Trip The Light Fantastic Toe, And Swung Rudely Or Gently

In The Mazes Of The Contra-Dance, But Such A Medley Of Steps Is

Seldom Seen Out Of The Mountains--The Halting, Irregular March Of The

War-Dance, The Slipping Gallopade, The Boisterous Pitching Of The

Missouri Backwoodsman, And The More Nice Gyrations Of The Frenchman;

For All, Irrespective Of Rank, Age, Or Colour, Went Pell-Mell Into

The Excitement, In a Manner That Would Have Rendered a Leveller Of

Aristocracies And Select Companies Frantic With Delight.  And The

Airs Assumed by The Fair Ones, More Particularly Charlotte, Who Took

Pattern From Life In the States, Were Amusing.  She Acted her Part

To Perfection; She Was The Centre Of Attraction, The Belle Of The

Evening.  She Treated the Suitors For The Pleasure Of The Next Set

With Becoming Ease And Suavity Of Manner; She Knew Her Worth, And

Managed accordingly.  When The Favoured gallant Stood By Her Side

Waiting For The Rudely Scraped tune From A Screeching Fiddle,

Satisfaction, Joy, And Triumph Over His Rivals Were Pictured on His

Radiant Face.

 

 

 

James Hobbs, Of Whom I Have Already Spoken, Once Gave Me A Graphic

Description Of The Annual Feast Of The Comanches, Cheyennes,