THE AMAZING MARCH
That thunderstorm, with the resultant stampede at Dufferin, along with
some blood-curdling prophecies of attacks by the scalp-gathering Sioux
Indians, had the good effect of weeding out the few non-adventurous
spirits who, up to now, had thought that the hardships and dangers of
the expedition had been painted in too lurid a colour. This suited
Colonel French, as he had no desire to venture into the wilderness with
any but the very best of men. A very necessary part of Police equipment,
namely their revolvers, did not arrive from England till early in July,
but once they had come French, who was impatient of delay in beginning
so tremendous a trek, gave orders on July 8 for a "pull out," or what
the old traders used to call "a Hudson's Bay start." The idea of a "pull
out" before the real journey began was to shake the line of the caravan
into shape, take out any kinks that might need straightening, and
generally see that everything was working satisfactorily. With field
guns and mortars, seventy-three wagons, and 114 of the wooden prairie
conveyances, known as Red River carts, new harness and other equipment
that needed testing, the "pull out" in this case was highly desirable,
but every care had been taken, and after a 2-mile test, camp was pitched
for a day or so till the real trip, across the 1,000-mile plain, was
commenced on July 10, 1874, a red-letter day in Western history.
The prairie had witnessed many a remarkable outfit striking out over the
plains with dog-trains in winter and carts and buffalo-runners in
summer, but it had never seen anything so business-like and highly
picturesque as this Police marching-out state. The six divisions or
troops of the mounted men, with the convenient alphabetical designation
from "A" to "F," had been given horses of distinctive colour, so that in
order there came for the start, dark bays, dark browns, light chestnuts
with the guns, greys, blacks and light bays. After these came wagons,
carts, cows and calves, beef cattle, and a general assortment of farming
implements. Meat would be necessary when the buffalo were not available,
and it would keep better "on the hoof." Posts would have to be supplied
with food, and haying, ploughing and reaping would be necessary if men
and horses were to live at some of the remote points. So they took the
necessaries along as far as they could. Of course, the impressive order
of march at the beginning could not be maintained throughout the
gruelling expedition. A thousand miles across swamp and _coulées_ and
rivers, over areas of waste and desolate prairie, where fires had swept
every vestige of grass away, through sections where flies and drought
and excessive heat, turning into cold as the autumn approached, played
the inevitable havoc. All these elements combined to throw that ordered
line into confusion at times. Here and there cattle died, oxen gave out
and quit, horses broke down through lack of food and water, men, hardy
as they were, took ill sometimes, but none succumbed, and as Colonel
French observed in concluding his first report to Ottawa: "The broad
fact is apparent that a Canadian force, hastily raised, armed and
equipped, and not under martial law, in a few months marched vast
distances through a country for the most part as unknown as it proved
bare of pasture and scanty in the supply of water. Of such a march,
under such adverse circumstances, all true Canadians may well be proud."
And so say we all.
[Illustration: COMMISSIONER A. G. IRVINE.]
[Illustration: COMMISSIONER GEORGE A. FRENCH.]
[Illustration: COMMISSIONER JAMES F. MACLEOD.]
[Illustration: COMMISSIONER LAWRENCE W. HERCHMER.]
It would be impossible to follow that amazing march in detail--that
would take a whole volume, but the main outlines are within our reach.
The officers who led in that remarkable episode in Canadian history
deserve mention, for it has always been a Police tradition that officers
would never ask men to go anywhere where they were not prepared to go
themselves. Personally, or by reputation, at one time or another, I have
known practically all of these officers, and they would all measure up
to requirements, though some would excel others in initiative and
activity. They were Lieut.-Colonel George A. French, Commissioner; Major
James F. MacLeod, C.M.G., Assistant Commissioner; Staff-Dr. J. G.
Kittson, Surgeon; Dr. R. B. Nevitt, Assistant Surgeon; W. G. Griffiths,
Paymaster; G. Dalrymple Clark, Adjutant; John L. Poett, Veterinary
Surgeon; Charles Nicolle, Quarter Master. Division "A": W. D. Jarvis,
Inspector; Severe Gagnon, Sub-Inspector. Division "B": G. A. Brisebois,
Inspector; J. B. Allan, Sub-Inspector. Division "C": W. Winder,
Inspector; T. R. Jackson, Sub-Inspector. Division "D" (Staff Division):
J. M. Walsh, Inspector; J. Walker and J. French, Sub-Inspectors.
Division "E": J. Carvell, Inspector; J. H. McIllree and H. J. N.
LeCaine, Sub-Inspectors. Division "F": L. F. N. Crozier, Inspector; V.
Welsh and C. E. Denny, Sub-Inspectors. These were the originals amongst
the officers, and the originals always attract our special notice. The
Force has been as a whole, wonderfully fortunate in its officers. Here
and there, as in the rank and file, there have been some throughout the
years who were less strenuous and able than others, but their uniformly
high character, and their incorruptibility at the hands of men who were
ready to pay large sums if the Police would look the other way, have
never been questioned. Many of these officers throughout the years might
have become wealthy had they either neglected their duty to take
business investments on the frontier, or had they been susceptible to
anything like bribery. It stands to their credit that those of them who
have passed on, died in comparative poverty, and that those who survive
have nothing but their not too generous pay, or the still less generous
pension allowance.
The original officers above named set a high standard in that famous
march across the wilds in 1874, and they were supported by as gallant
and hardy a body of men as ever crossed the plains. Most of them were
young men from the Eastern Provinces, who had no experience in the life
of the prairies, and hardly any conception of the difficulties to be met
and overcome, but they faced situations as they arose, and with the same
initiative, resource and courage that have characterized Canadians on
other fields of service, they persevered and won.
Broadly speaking, the aim of the Police expedition was to strike at the
lawlessness which was specially defiant and open in the foothills of the
Rockies, where the proximity of the international boundary line made it
easy for outlaws of all types to evade the consequences of their crimes
and depredations on both sides in turn. Besides that it was proposed, by
a sort of triangular distribution of the 300 Police, to cover the whole
North-Western territory, and in that way give visibility to authority in
all localities. To fulfil these aims and reach these objectives, the
main body of the Police was to be sent on this march out to the Bow and
Belly Rivers, near the Cypress Hills, made infamous by the massacre
already described, and countless other criminalities. Another
detachment, separating from the main body, was to go northward to
Edmonton, by way of forts Ellice and Carlton, while a third, under the
charge of the Commissioner, was to return to the proposed headquarters
at Fort Pelly or Swan River, on the north-west boundary of Manitoba.
These objectives were all reached after many serious hardships, the only
modification in the places being in regard to the Swan River. On
returning to that point in the beginning of winter, Colonel French found
that the barracks were not ready for occupation, some wiseacre having
started to build them amid granite boulders on a hill. Moreover,
prairie fires had burned the hay intended for the Police, and the
Hudson's Bay Company, having lost their supply also, could not assist.
Consequently the Commissioner left only one division there, under that
very competent officer, Inspector Carvell, and with the rest he pushed
on to Winnipeg and the original starting-point at Dufferin, where he
arrived in 30 degrees below zero, November weather, after a total march
for his contingent of nearly 2,000 miles. We shall look at these three
movements of the Force briefly.
The whole column kept together as far as La Roche Percée, or the pierced
rock, on the banks of the Souris, a distance of nearly 300 miles from
the starting-point at Dufferin. Near here the Commissioner established
what he called Cripple Camp for the maimed and halt, both of man and
beast, for already the hardship of the route had begun to take its toll.
But there was no time to lose, and French throughout was insistent on
getting forward, for the way was long, and it was necessary to get out
to the Cypress Hills country, get some shelters erected for the men and
horses, and lay in some stores of provisions. By the end of August they
were pretty well to their destination. In the meantime, Colonel French
had gone over the line to Fort Benton, Montana, the nearest telegraphic
point in those days, secured some stores and learned from Ottawa that
after arrival at the foot-hill points, he was to leave Assistant
Commissioner MacLeod in charge and return himself with "E" and "D"
Divisions to Fort Pelly or Swan River, as the headquarters of the Force.
While Colonel French was in Montana for a few days several half-breed
buffalo-hunters visited the Police camp and told some ferocious stories
about the desperadoes who were entrenched out in the cattle-stealing and
boot-legging belt waiting to dispute possession with the new-comers. The
scarlet-coated men took in all they said and smiled. Forts "Whoop-Up,"
"Stand-off" and the rest, with some of the outlaws in garrison, would
have been a welcome diversion after the hardships they had experienced.
Perhaps the leading incident of this particular part of the big trek was
the discovery by the Commissioner of Jerry Potts, a short, heavy-set,
taciturn man, half Scot and half Piegan, a wonderful plainsman, skilled
in the language of the Indian tribes and a past-master in all the lore
of the prairies. His father was an Edinburgh Scot, who was killed in
Missouri by an Indian, and it is said that Jerry, though a mere boy,
followed the Indian into camp and shot him. Anyway, Jerry Potts became a
splendid help to the Police, a trainer of scouts, a matchless diplomat
with the Indians, an incomparable interpreter, and a highly respected
guide who, without consulting maps, seemed to know the way by instinct
either in summer or winter. He began to be useful as soon as he took
service with the Force in that fall of 1874. He guided them to the best
feeding-places for the horses and cattle, and to the watering-places
which were so constantly needed. And when, a few days after he came, the
column struck herds of innumerable buffalo, it was Jerry Potts who
warned against shooting at certain times, lest the bisons would stampede
and trample the whole cavalcade under foot. Potts remained with the
Police as interpreter till his death in 1906, making a long service of
twenty-two years. We shall meet his name here and there in this story--a
diamond in the rough, entitled to a niche in the hall of the men who
helped to shape the early years of our history.
Shortly after this trip to Montana, Colonel French, with the divisions
above named, left the foothill country, and, coming back by way of
Qu'Appelle, Fort Pelly and Swan River, he reached Dufferin, as already
mentioned, in the 30 degrees below zero weather, he and the men with him
having travelled about 2,000 miles since leaving there in July.
The third party already mentioned as leaving La Roche Percée was a
small detachment under Inspectors Jarvis and Gagnon. With sick and
played-out horses, a lot of cattle, and not much general provision, and
hardly enough men to keep up the rounds of duty, the lot of this
detachment starting out on a march of 850 miles was not very enticing.
The detachment left La Roche Percée on August 3, and reached Edmonton,
by way of Fort Ellice and Carlton, on the 27th of October. Pasture was
poor, water was scarce and, except where they struck Hudson's Bay posts
or, as in one case, met a caravan of traders from whom some rations in
the shape of pemmican were purchased, the outlook all the way was
hazardous. When the weather began to get cold the weakened horses often
had to be lifted in the morning and their joints rubbed, before they
could proceed on the journey. During the last 25 miles it seemed as if
the enterprise would collapse near the goal, as the cold had so
stiffened the half-starved horses that they could not travel over the
hard-frozen and icy ground. They had to be lifted and rubbed hour after
hour. No wonder Inspector Jarvis said after reaching Edmonton, "Had
these horses been my own property I should have killed them, as they
were mere skeletons." However, the detachment got through finally, and
were warmly welcomed by Mr. Hardistry, the Hudson's Bay factor, who, in
addition to his own open-hearted nature, had joy in exercising to the
full that generous hospitality for which the old Hudson's Bay men have
been famous for two and a half centuries. They had ruled in a
benevolently autocratic way throughout the years, and one would almost
imagine that they would have looked askance at the scarlet-coated men
who were representing the powers that were superseding them. But the
Mounted Police had no more loyal friends and helpers than these grand
men of the old Company, who were of enormous assistance to the
Government and the Police in the critical days when there was a change
of rulers taking place and the problem of the Indians had to be
peaceably and satisfactorily settled.
Inspector Jarvis, who was a gallant and popular officer, has this
notable paragraph in his report to Colonel French: "In conclusion, I may
state, on looking back over our journey, I wonder how we ever
accomplished it with weak horses, little or no pasture, and for the last
500 miles with no grain, and the latter part of it over roads
impassable. We made them, that is to say, I kept a party of men ahead
with axes and, when practicable, felled trees and made corduroy over
mudholes, sometimes 100 yards long, and also made a number of bridges
and repaired the old ones. We must have laid down several miles of
corduroy between Fort Pitt and here. Streams which last year when I
crossed them were mere rivulets, are now rivers difficult to ford. _And
had it not been for the perfect conduct of the men and real hard work_,
much of the property must have been destroyed." Loyal men were those
splendid pathfinders, who would do their utmost to conserve the
equipment which belonged to their Sovereign. They had a keen sense of
honour and a fine appreciation of the trust reposed in them.
It is highly interesting to find emerging occasionally in these reports
the names of men who afterwards became outstanding figures in the Force.
Constable Labelle is especially singled out for mention by Inspector
Jarvis, because of his special attention to the horses which were pulled
through largely by his assiduous care. A man of that kind wins our
respect and appreciation. A horse is perhaps the most sensitive animal
in the world, and the West is full of stories of the positive attachment
which grew up between the men on the frontier and the faithful animals
to whose endurance and courage in storm and blizzard the troopers often
owed their lives.
And Inspector Jarvis mentions another in his first report from Edmonton
when he says, "Sergt.-Major Steele has been undeviating in his efforts
to assist me, and he has also done the manual labour of at least two
men."
That Steele, whom we shall meet more than once in this story, could do
the manual labour of at least two men we can well believe. Years after
the date on which this tribute was written by Jarvis I met Steele in the
foothills of the Rockies, and in his tall, powerful figure, deep-chested
proportions and massive shoulders, he suggested prodigious strength to
the onlooker. And that Steele not only could but would do two men's work
if it seemed his duty, goes without saying to those who knew him.
Lieut.-Colonel J. B. Mitchell, of the 100th Grenadiers in Winnipeg, one
of the original '73 men of the Mounted Police, tells us that when he
went to Kingston to take an artillery course, before the Police Force
was organized, he was told by Battery Sergt.-Major John Mortimer that
some of the sergeants might try to take advantage of him, as he was new
at the business but Mortimer added, "You can always rely on Sergeant Sam
Steele." And the certificate of that grizzled old Sergt.-Major never had
to be cancelled.
And thus we have seen the Mounted Police come upon the stage and take
their positions at the end of extraordinary marches. It will be our
place and privilege to follow them as they play their large and serious
part in nation-building in Western Canada.