CHANGING SCENERY
The decade from 1890 to 1900 witnessed changes and incidents that were
fully up to the Police history record for matters of thrilling
importance. In 1891 Sir John A. Macdonald, who was the originator of the
Force, and who had always taken great pride in its splendid efficiency,
passed away after a brief illness at the historic homestead,
Earnscliffe, in Ottawa. Not even Sir John's most rabidly partisan
friends had ever claimed perfection for their political idol, but I did
hear one man say that he was so devoted to "The old Chieftain," that he
was quite prepared to support him whether he was right or wrong. This
was probably an extreme case, but it illustrates the extraordinary
magnetism of the remarkable man who had been the chief pilot in taking
the country through the shoals and rocks that threatened to wreck
Confederation at its launching. Sir John's Canadianism was intense and
so was his Imperialism, for was it not he who said, "A British subject I
was born and a British subject I will die"? The undoubted political
lapses in his career seemed to proceed from his being possessed with the
idea that his presence at the head of affairs was so necessary for the
well-being of the country that he should get there and stay there at any
cost. His two great achievements in connection with Western Canada were
his inauguration of the Canadian Pacific Railway, and his organization
of the Mounted Police. This does not mean that in these two projects he
had not the aid of others, for in some measure he had the support of
even his political opponents, who differed from him in considerable
degree on the railway policy, but who supported him in his proposal to
organize the Mounted Police.
When I last heard this Disraeli-looking man speak, it was in Winnipeg,
when he was making his first and last trip across Canada on the railway
for which he had done and ventured so much. In his semi-humorous and
semi-serious way he said, "I used to state that I never expected to live
long enough to see the road completed, but that when my friends would be
crossing the continent upon it, I would be looking down upon them from
another and better sphere; my opponents said I would be looking up, but
in reality to the surprise of both, I am doing it on the horizontal." On
that same trip the veteran took great delight in seeing the scarlet and
gold uniforms of his favourite corps on their "native heath" in the
great prairie land of the West. Such was Sir John's interest in the
Force that, despite his heavy duties, he retained the headship of the
corps to the end of his days. In later years Sir Wilfred Laurier, Sir
Robert Bordon, and the Hon. N. W. Rowell were outstanding also in their
high opinion of, and their great interest in, the riders of the plains.
In fact all public men who really understood the Western situation and
the wide-reaching influence of the Police on Western history have always
been ready to estimate highly the great services rendered by these
remarkable men. During that same decade which rounded out the century
Colonel MacLeod, who had been appointed to the Bench and whose fine
character had endeared him to the Police and the country, crossed the
Great Divide amid the grief of all who knew him. The Assistant
Commissioner, W. M. Herchmer, who had throughout nearly thirty years
served with distinction in the Militia and the Police, died much
regretted, and was succeeded by Superintendent John H. McIlree, who
retired in 1911 after thirty-eight years of most valuable service.
It was in that decade also that the gold-rush into the Yukon took place,
as we shall see, and furnished a new occasion for one of the most
remarkable periods in the history of the Police, replete with incidents
of adventure and tales of endurance along with a devotion to duty and a
triumphant enforcement of law which added immensely to the already great
prestige of the Force, and made a record that not only astonished but
won the admiration of the world. We will, however, review some notable
events of that decade before coming to the Yukon.
Tragic but glorious was the fate of a young constable near Pendant
d'Oreille, who was out on special duty when a blinding snow-storm
gathered to the height of a blizzard across his path. Losing the way,
the troop-horse stumbled into a ravine and broke his neck. But the
athletic young policeman, who had developed muscle as well as mind in
his university, extricated himself and struggled on in his determination
to carry out his commission. The odds of blizzard and cold were too
heavy, and the gallant lad succumbed in the unequal contest. But he
would bring no discredit on the Police tradition, and when his body was
discovered by a search party the following words, scribbled with
freezing fingers, were found on a paper in his dispatch bag, "Lost.
Horse dead. Am trying to push on. Have done my best." In the long roll
of honour there are few more remarkable incidents than this of the young
policeman battling with the relentless elements which some of us have
witnessed raging on these Western plains. But he did not fail. From his
numbing hands he had passed on to others the supreme duty of upholding
the great tradition.
And then we can swing to another and lighter, but still very important
phase of Police life. In the nineties Superintendent Steele, who was at
Fort MacLeod, gives us some vivid and interesting pictures of social
evenings in the winter, and out-door sports in the summer. The Police
were leaders in these gatherings, but all the country-side turned out,
and the barrack hall was thrown open on occasion for winter gatherings.
There was wisdom in all this, for to teach people to enjoy proper
recreation and play is to make them better citizens and more cordial one
to the other. In the summer the Bloods and Piegans with their ponies and
dogs attended the sports, and took active part under the general
oversight of that incomparable scout and interpreter Jerry Potts.
In the roping of the huge wild steers there was much opportunity for the
display of skill and nerve. When these big steers had been run out and
had passed the line the cowboy on his trained pony followed at racing
speed. His pony seemed dowered with full knowledge of the methods, and
so watched the lasso thrown over the steer's head, when the wary pony,
with all four feet braced to meet the strain, came to a sudden halt.
This swift stop caused the steer to go heels over head and fall on his
back, the pony holding the rope tight till the rider dismounted and tied
the steer up in orthodox fashion, the pony watching every movement till
the task was finished.
Bronco-breaking was a regular industry, and every meet of the kind just
described had its bucking contents, but not after the manner of circuses
with a few dispirited animals that go through a programme without
springing any surprises on the rider. A real prairie bronco five or six
years old, that had never been ridden or even handled since he was
branded when a foal had no set programme. The rider never could tell
what that bronco would do next. The animal might start away quietly, as
if he was wondering what had gotten on his back when he was blindfolded.
Then suddenly he would leap right up into the air, "swap ends," so the
cowboys said, and come down facing the opposite way Then he might rear
up and fall backwards, or throw himself down and roll over, but the
rider was always on the bronco's back before he could get going again.
This went on for some time, varied by a swift race out over the plain,
from which the return would be made with the froth down over the hooves
of the horse. Then the cowboys pronounced the bronco broken, but woe
betide the unsuspecting tenderfoot who was tempted to get on the
hurricane deck of what these men called a broken horse.
[Illustration: YUKON RUSH: SUMMIT. CHILCOOT PASS]
[Illustration: GROUP OF INDIAN CHILDREN ON PRAIRIE.]
The Police were good riders and each Division had several constables who
made a speciality of breaking refractory broncos. And the work was
necessary because for months after the horse was first broken he would
break out again on occasion. One day on our line of march to the north
from Calgary, a constable after the noon hour stop found on mounting his
horse that the bronco spirit was still existent, and that bucking was
evidently the order of the day. But the policeman was ready. He banged
the horse over the head with his hat and used the spur till the unruly
animal made a few kangaroo-like leaps and came to a sudden halt at the
edge of the hole where the camp fire had left a bed of hot coals. The
rider was not disturbed by the shock, but the buckle of his cartridge
belt gave way under the strain and the whole thing dropped over the
horse's head into the fire. Those of us who were looking on lost no time
in taking cover when the fire got at those cartridges.
Steele tells us in this same connection of an extraordinary feat of
horsemanship he witnessed by Mr. Charles Sharples, of the Winder Ranch.
Sharples had brought some horses to MacLeod to sell to the Mounted
Police, and had them in a stable near the Old Man's River, where there
was a perpendicular bank about 30 feet high. He started out to show one
of the horses to the Commissioner at the Fort, but the brute bucked
fiercely towards the cut-bank, sidling and fighting against its rider
until at last there seemed to be nothing for it but to go over the bank
side-on. That did not suit Sharples. He turned the brute sharply towards
the precipice, gave it the spur and went out into space. Everybody
rushed to the top to see what had become of this bold horseman, and were
amazed to see him still firm in the saddle with the horse swimming
towards the opposite bank, none the worse for his wild leap. Steele does
not tell us whether Sharples made a sale of that horse, but he deserved
to succeed in so doing. A horse like that would come in handy.
Perhaps the races and other sports inaugurated by the Police had their
effect in discouraging the Indians from the barbaric Sun-dance which the
Government sought to end as soon as possible, although not desiring to
repress them by force. The Sun-dance was a semi-religious, semi-tribal
festival for the purpose of enabling young braves to prove that they had
courage and stamina enough to go on the war-path. While we were engaged
in the Riel rebellion campaign we saw several Sun-dance lodges along the
line of our march after Big Bear, these lodges being left standing with
a view to frightening our men from pursuing braves who could demonstrate
their courage in the way the lodge indicated.
The Sun-dance lodge was a circular wooden structure of poles with
rafters coming together to a point above. From these rafters hooks were
suspended by thongs of tough leather. The prospective braves danced
around furiously within the structure in a frenzy of excitement,
fastening the hooks in their skin and thus lacerating themselves till
they sometimes fainted away. This performance was an annual affair on
the general principle that they should be always ready for war. There
was nothing in the festival that would justify a forcible suppression of
it, which would offend the Indians by interference with an ancient
custom. But the Mounted Police used their persuasive influence against
it and showed the younger Indians how foolish and useless it was.
Accordingly, we find Superintendent Steele, who was in command at Fort
MacLeod, saying in 1891, "This year both Bloods and Piegans indulged in
the time-honoured Sun-dance. From personal observation and careful
inquiry I am convinced that this festival has almost entirely ceased to
have any significance except to the old people. The vanity of the
ancient warrior is no doubt gratified when he recounts his scalps, but
there seemed very little interest and no enthusiasm on the part of his
audience. The young Indians of both sides seem to look on the whole
thing as an excuse for a picnic. Many Indians on the reserves did not
take sufficient interest in the festival to attend it. Two braves were
made at the Blood dance and none at the Piegans'." So this pagan custom
was vanishing. It is now a thing of the past, but we must credit the
Police with gradually ending it. About this period there were still some
rumblings of discontent amongst the Sioux Indians south of the boundary
line in the region of Manitoba. There were recurrent "scares" and many
rumours of "Ghost dances" on our side of the line, in expectation, it
was said, of an incursion by the Sioux, who were reported to be stirring
up our Indians to commit depredations on the settlers. But the presence
and the constant patrols of Inspector J. A. McGibbon and his men in the
scarlet tunic soon restored the equilibrium of things and calmed the
fears of the settlers so that they went peacefully on with their work. A
literary outcome of the situation was the widely quoted and beneficially
humorous utterance of a punster on the staff of the Winnipeg Free Press,
who asserted that the Sioux (sue) scare was seizing a lot of fellows who
owed money.
The relations existing between the Mounted Police and the American
soldiery south of the line were always of the most cordial and fraternal
type. Superintendent A. W. Jarvis, who was in charge at Lethbridge in
the nineties, refers to this in one of his reports. He says, "Several
deserters from the American army arrived here in the spring, but only
one of them brought a horse. This was taken from him and was sent back
to the officer commanding at Fort Assiniboine. This was the only
opportunity I had to reciprocate the courtesy so freely extended to us
under similar circumstances by the American officers at that post. These
gentlemen have always shown themselves ready and willing to assist the
Mounted Police by any means in their power." Speaking of desertions it
was generally felt that a man who would desert was not really worth a
search. So far as the Mounted Police were concerned, there were not many
desertions, but there was probably more relief than otherwise when some
unworthy man took French leave and escaped. Such a man was not wanted.
The standing of the Force was to be maintained, and so the statement
once made by Commissioner Lawrence Herchmer became a classic: "I want to
see the Mounted Police Force to be the hardest to get into and the
easiest to get out of in the world."
There is a fine human picture in another clause of Superintendent A. W.
Jarvis' report already mentioned. He says: "On November 20 two boys,
aged 16 and 10 years respectively, sons of leading citizens of Medicine
Hat, were caught in a blizzard a few miles south of that town and frozen
to death. Two days later the Police Patrol from Bull's Head found the
bodies. Sergeant Mathewson remained alone all night on the open prairie
to watch them and protect them from the cayotes, till the Police team
came next day to take them to town." Mathewson had a lonely and
dangerous vigil on the blizzard-swept plain, but it was characteristic
of these big men to stand guard in such pathetic cases.
The same fine touch comes out in a brief medical import in 1892 from
that able man Senior Surgeon Jukes at the Regina headquarters. It had
been a time of stress in the hospital work, and Dr. Haultain, the
assistant surgeon, had been laid completely aside by illness. So Dr.
Jukes cut out the office work and let reports go in order to devote
himself to the sick. Then Assistant Surgeon Fraser arrived from Calgary
to help, and Dr. Jukes has time to send in a brief note before the time
for having reports in the printer's hands expires. And he says at the
end of it, "I am assured by the comptroller that in consideration of the
enormous amount of work which has been thrown on me for the last three
months, no censure can possibly be passed on me for having devoted the
whole of my time to the sick under my charge and other professional
duties, in preference to the writing of an annual report." Well spoken,
Dr. Jukes, and the authorities saw the point at once. Reports could
wait, but the sick had to be looked after at once. That, too, is a
police tradition. Take care of the casualties now and report later.
That the Mounted Police Force was continuously progressive to ever
higher efficiency was due in no small measure to the fact that officers
and men were encouraged to be on the look out for improved methods and
to feel free to suggest these to those in command. Superintendent Perry
had been the means of bringing about a system of districts and
sub-districts with constables scattered over many points rather than
concentrated at headquarters, qualified only by the suggestion that
changes be often made so as to keep all in touch with regimental duties.
And I find that Inspector Constantine, a man of quite unusual gifts and
powers, as we shall see later, makes a striking recommendation in his
report from Moosomin in 1893. He says that the farther division of
districts into groups in charge of a non-commissioned officer has
increased the self-respect of these men and developed their interest and
initiative. He says men are more to be trusted than regulations. "Get
good men forward, give more power to individuals, create a confidence
through all ranks one with the other and things will work harmoniously
in maintaining the peace of the country." And because all the men cannot
be experienced from the outset Constantine suggests that a special
instruction book should be issued to every recruit, a necessary part of
his equipment, and to be produced at kit inspection or whenever called
for by the officer commanding. And this keen Inspector adds that young
men who had this book would be in a better position to carry out their
duty "besides having the confidence inspired by a knowledge that they
were right and not being in an agony of indecision caused by being
advised by parties having different interests." Happy the Force that had
leaders able and free to suggest new departures to greater efficiency.
That the officers were always careful about minor details with a view to
the comfort of the men and economy at the same time as far as possible
is evidenced by some suggestions from Inspector A. C. Macdonnell, who
was in charge at Wood Mountain in 1893. Macdonnell (now Sir Archibald,
Commandant at Kingston Military College and the wearer of many war
decorations) says that he had the old mud-roofs removed and replaced by
shingles and painted, and makes the recommendation which those who know
the country will understand, "that next year all the log-buildings be
chinked with mortar. It would last five years and be much cleaner and
neater in appearance than mud, and save the cost of the annual mudding."
These officers kept their eyes on everything. It is in keeping with what
was said above as to deserters that Macdonnell reports a desertion and
adds, "As this constable was the possessor of an exceedingly bad
defaulter's sheet, the Force sustains no loss." Let the Force be made
easy for undesirables to leave, as Herchmer said some years before.
In 1893 Superintendent Perry, in referring to the reports he was
transmitting from Superintendent F. Norman, of Wood Mountain, Inspectors
McGibbon, of Saltcoats, J. O. Wilson, of Estevan, C. Constantine, of
Moosomin, and W. H. Routledge, in Manitoba, says these reports show "how
varied and multifarious are the duties which are demanded of us--at Wood
Mountain our men are found acting as cowboys, rounding up and driving
back across the boundary vast herds of wild American ranch cattle which
again and again wander northward in search of better feed and more
water. At Estevan and Gretna they are seen in charge of large herds of
quarantined cattle, attending sick animals, milch cows, and at the
expiration of their term in quarantine driving them long distances by
trail, loading on trains and conveying them to their different
destinations; in Manitoba they are engaged in enforcing the customs
laws, aiding the regular customs officials, whose duties they at times
perform, and executing the Crown Timber and Dominion Land regulations;
and, in addition to this work of a special nature, everywhere carrying
out their regular duties of detecting crime, aiding the administration
of justice, acting as prairie fire and game guardians, and maintaining a
patrol system which covers weekly some 1,200 miles." No wonder Perry
adds, "Such extended duties test the capacities of the Force and their
successful performance illustrates the diversity of attainments in the
personnel of the North-West Mounted Police." And those of us who have
seen them under many circumstances can vouch for their being not
stereotyped officials, but all-round adaptable men. There are flashes of
humour all through the reports of Police Officers. Sometimes they may
have been unintentional, but humour is a saving grace and men who were
facing tragedies almost every day would have given way under the strain
if they had not put a little comedy into life even in their reports.
Here, for instance, is an item from a report by Inspector Z. T. Wood,
who later on did such splendid work in the Yukon. Writing from Calgary
in 1894 he reports a case by saying, "On the night of July 5 a man named
Wilson took his effects from a C.P. Railway car and started north
without going through the usual form of paying the freight thereon. He
was caught, brought back and committed for trial." Superintendent Deane
exposes one of the peculiar technicalities of law when he says, "On the
15th of August a traveller had a pair of field glasses stolen from his
buckboard at a ranch about 12 miles from Lethbridge. We know who took
them, but the one witness who could convict the thief had disappeared."
The same officer elsewhere observes, "On the 15th of September last, in
the Pot Hole country, a saddle was stolen from the back of a piqueted
horse whose rider had dismounted to shoot some ducks. We know who is
responsible for this piece of impudence, but shall be lucky if we
succeed in recovering the saddle." Deane saw humour in the situation,
but was evidently rather sceptical about the ways of law. These examples
of wit could be multiplied readily from what to the casual student seem
to be dry annual reports. In reality these same reports pulsate with
life. But it is often only found between the lines by the reader who
knows the history of the land.
Nearly midway in that last decade of the last century the golden Yukon
swung out of solitude into the vision of the world and there as
elsewhere in the vast north-land the Mounted Police were to play a large
and brilliantly useful part. To some study of that part we shall come in
succeeding pages.