The yellowstone campaign, p.1
The Yellowstone Campaign, page 1
This book is a fictional dramatization based on real events and was drawn from a variety of published materials. For dramatic and narrative purposes, the book contains fictionalized scenes, composite and representative characters and dialogue, and time compression. The views and opinions expressed in the book are those of the characters only and do not necessarily reflect or represent the views and opinions held by individuals on which those characters are based.
Copyright © 2024 Timothy L. Piper
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.
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ISBN 979-8-9884186-3-4 (hardback)
ISBN 979-8-9884186-4-1 (paperback)
ISBN 979-8-9884186-5-8 (ebook)
Library of Congress Number: 2023915186
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To Lee Piper
CHAPTER 1
Jubilee Walker admired the way the spring sunshine created blue highlights in Nelly Boswell’s black hair as they sat together on a blanket on the riverbank. He also admired the fried chicken she had packed in the picnic basket, which was crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside.
“This chicken is good,” Jubil said, wiping his chin with a napkin. It was one of the many things he was looking forward to getting used to after they were married.
Nelly’s blue eyes gleamed. “My mother made it,” she said. “If you’re counting on me to be the cook she is, you’d better rethink your marriage proposal.”
Jubil laughed. “I don’t care if we live on biscuits and beans. I’m just grateful you finally agreed to marry me.”
“You became a much better marriage prospect, after you agreed not to risk your life every time you go outdoors,” she said with a grin.
Jubil had spent three summers following Major John Wesley Powell on his Colorado exploring expeditions. This past summer he had accompanied Powell on the first expedition to navigate the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. The experience had been so harrowing that Jubil swore he would not take such extreme risks in the future. He would focus on his adventure travel business, which, for his customers’ sake, had to be relatively safe. It was only then that Nelly finally consented to marry him.
“I want to get on with it, before you change your mind,” he said.
Nelly’s bright smile faded.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease about that,” he said. Nelly had resisted marriage not only because of Jubil’s dangerous lifestyle but also because of the impact it would have on her desire to have a career. She was currently enrolled at Illinois State Normal University, a teacher’s college, but marriage would make her ineligible for that profession.
“You’ve applied to Wesleyan, then?” Jubil asked. Illinois Wesleyan University would admit female students for the first time this fall.
She shrugged. “Not yet. How many other women do you think will be there? I’m not anxious to be among the first few,” she said glumly. “Besides, Wesleyan’s stronger in the sciences than the arts. But I guess it’s my only other option. They must have some writing classes there, don’t you think?”
He nodded.
“It’s Papa too,” she continued. “In his opinion, since I can’t be a teacher, I should give up university and start a family. I’ve told him I intend to find another career, but he disapproves. Here I am again, back at the beginning of the same battle with him.”
Jubil could sympathize with Nelly’s longing for freedom. He had dreamed of a life free from the routine of the family farm, but he had felt held there by his duty to his mother. He was now free to pursue whatever he wanted in life, but Nelly did not have that luxury. He had no ready advice. If his mother were still alive and disapproved of his plans, he was not sure how he would handle it. But it was difficult for him to understand Mr. Boswell’s position. What was the harm in Nelly getting a college degree if she wanted one?
“Whatever you decide,” he said, reaching for her hand, “I’m with you.”
“I know,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. She smiled faintly. “Mama has been so excited about the wedding. She’s done most of the planning.”
He had noticed this and been somewhat uneasy about it, but had resisted the impulse to mention it.
They had chosen July 29—which was now only two months away—so that the weather would be warm on their honeymoon and fit for exploring the Colorado landscape Jubil had been so eager to share with Nelly.
“I’ll wear the red satin she made for me last Christmas. Your mother’s ruby ring will look beautiful with it. She’d be so proud of you, and I’ll be proud to wear it. I know you reserved the church for the service, but if it’s all right with you, Mama would like to have the reception at our house. She’ll serve coffee and tea and have pieces of cake boxed up for the guests to take home.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Jubil said.
“But I’m still nervous. I’ll be happier, I think, when all the fuss is over and we’re setting out on our trip.”
Jubil loved the way her eyes lit up when she mentioned the trip. He had arranged first-class accommodations on the new Denver Pacific Railway. They would take the train from Bloomington to Denver and spend August sightseeing in Colorado. This new rail line would open up the front range of the Rocky Mountains, just as the Union Pacific to Cheyenne had opened up the whole West to travelers.
“It will be such an adventure,” Nelly said. She had never been so far from Bloomington, or been away so long. “I’m very much looking forward to seeing the mountains.”
“And I’m looking forward to showing them to you,” Jubil said. “Oh, Mr. Weed stopped by the store to tell me he knows of three houses we might want to rent until we make up our minds about something more permanent. If we decide on one soon, we could have it ready to move in before we leave on our honeymoon.”
Nelly reached for his hand. “So many big changes to adjust to. I’m nervous.”
“We’ll be fine,” Jubil said patting her hand.
“I’m sure we will be,” she said with a weak smile. “It’s getting late. We should go home. Do you want to look at the rental houses tomorrow?”
“I’d better not make any plans just yet,” Jubil said. “Luke and I got a telegram this morning from his father saying he’s coming for a visit. He’ll be arriving tomorrow morning.”
Since December 1867, for more than two years now, Jubil and his business partner, Luke Warner, had been proprietors of Warner and Walker Outfitters in Bloomington. Luke had grown up in Council Bluffs, where he and his father, Abe Warner, ran Warner and Company Outfitters. The Warners had changed Jubil’s life when they had invested in the outfitting business in Bloomington.
“What a pleasant surprise,” Nelly said. “It will be wonderful to see him again. Will Mrs. Warner be with him?”
“I don’t think so,” Jubil said. “His telegram didn’t mention her.”
“Too bad,” Nelly said, as she began to pack away the remains of their picnic.
Jubil and Luke occasionally visited Council Bluffs to visit Luke’s parents, but the Warners rarely visited Bloomington. The next morning, as Jubil sat down with Luke and his father in the dining room of the Ashley House hotel, he smiled noticing how Luke was a younger version of his father: They each had a full head of wavy hair, but Mr. Warner’s was gray at the temples while Luke’s was still dark. In spite of their matching potbellies, they were both in hearty condition.
Jubil’s smile faded as he noticed that Mr. Warner was uncharacteristically somber. He found himself worrying as the waiter served them coffee.
“I got a letter from General Philip Sheridan,” Mr. Warner began. “He has decided to establish his offices in Chicago rather than in Council Bluffs. Nevertheless, he thinks we are well situated to continue providing support for his western theater. He invited me to meet with him in Chicago, which I did yesterday.”
General Philip Sheridan had replaced their friend General William T. Sherman as the commander of the Military Division of the Missouri. General Sherman had been a steady client of Warner and Company Outfitters during his command of all US Army forces in the western plains. Jubil’s first trip out West had been riding with a Warner and Company wagon train from Council Bluffs to Fort McPherson, Nebraska, escorted by General Sherman and his soldiers. Sherman had been promoted to Commanding General of the Army earlier that year, when Grant had been elected President.
Mr. Warner sipped his coffee, and then looked pointedly at Jubil over the tops of his small square glasses, which he wore on the tip of his nose.
“General Sheridan made it plain that he would like to meet our partner, the celebrated explorer Jubilee Walker. He’s familiar with the Powell expeditions, and he said General Sherman speaks highly of you.”
Jubil sat up a bit straighter. “That is very flattering.”
“But Sheridan’s not asking you to pay him a social call,” Mr. Warner said. “He has a proposition for you. An expedition is being organized to explore the Yellowstone River in Wyoming Territory, and he wonders if you would be interested in going along.”
Jubil felt a jol
“When is the expedition planned?” Jubil asked.
“This summer,” Mr. Warner replied.
Jubil’s excitement was now competing with a sense of dread.
“Nelly and I have our wedding plans set,” Jubil said. “Luke and I have been advertising our first guided adventure tour for this fall. We have paying customers already lined up . . .”
“Yes,” Mr. Warner said sympathetically, “I knew this would be a dilemma. That’s why I came to tell you in person.”
Jubil nodded and studied the depths of his coffee cup. How was it that Mr. Warner had known that Jubil would find the prospect of such an adventure irresistible when this fact seemed hidden from Jubil himself? When the waiter came to their table to take their order, Jubil was too uneasy to eat.
“I should go see General Sheridan,” Jubil said, “out of courtesy, if for no other reason. I’m going to go pack a bag and catch the train. I’ll try to see him tomorrow.” He turned to Luke. “If you see Nelly, just tell her I went to Chicago on business. Let me do my own explaining. After I talk to Sheridan, I may not even be interested in going.”
“All right,” Luke assured him. Mr. Warner nodded.
Packing a few things required only a stop at the tent Jubil kept behind the store, where he often camped rather than make the hour ride north to his farm. By early evening he was stepping out of Chicago’s Great Central Station onto South Water Street, which followed the south bank of the Chicago River. To the east, the river flowed into Lake Michigan. As he walked toward Dearborn Street and the Tremont House, where he would stay for the night, he watched the boat traffic on the river and at the piers. Across the river was the workshop of Thomas Bagley, the craftsman who had built Major Powell’s boats for the Grand Canyon expedition. The expedition had set out with four boats and concluded with two, one left behind in case the men who abandoned the expedition reconsidered, and the other smashed against the rocks, nearly drowning Jubil in the aftermath.
In the morning, he walked to the Court House Square. There, in the offices of the US Army Military Division of the Missouri he found a soldier at the desk in the waiting room. He introduced himself and asked if General Sheridan was available. While the soldier went into General Sheridan’s office, Jubil reflected on his promise to Nelly. He would express his appreciation for the invitation to join the expedition, ask him to convey his thanks to General Sherman for the recommendation, and offer to assist with the outfitting, but he would not make any commitments that would upset his and Nelly’s wedding plans.
The soldier came out of Sheridan’s office and held the door open for Jubil. “Sir?” he said. “You can go right in.”
Jubil entered a large open room with a long conference table along the left wall, a map table in the center of the room, and two small desks near the right wall. Straight ahead of him, General Sheridan was stepping out from behind a large desk that sat in front of a row of windows.
The general was modest in stature, perhaps six inches shorter than Jubil, who stood a lanky six feet. Major Powell was also of modest stature, but had an imposing presence that General Sheridan did not generate. Sheridan was imperfectly proportioned, with a long body, long arms, short legs, almost no neck, and a well-padded frame.
“Mr. Walker, how do you do?” Sheridan said, offering a handshake and a half-smile.
“I’m well, thank you, General,” replied Jubil, noting the strength of Sheridan’s grip. He was softer-looking than Sherman or Powell, but based on his Civil War and Indian Wars reputation, Jubil knew he was anything but soft. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Abe Warner suggested I make your acquaintance.”
The general nodded and motioned toward the conference table, where he and Jubil sat down opposite one another.
“Warner is a good man,” General Sheridan said. “He runs a solid business the army counts on for support. I understand you and his son have a store in Bloomington?”
“Yes sir,” Jubil replied, “Mr. Warner’s store handles mostly institutional business, our store in Bloomington is geared to business, leisure, and adventure travelers. Originally Warner supplied overland travelers trekking westward, but the railroad reduced that market, so we’ve diversified.”
“It’s good to see ambitious young men rewarded for their efforts. I understand you’ve also done some expedition travel. Did you come to your acquaintance with Major Powell through the outfitting business?”
Jubil explained his family’s long relationship with Powell, how he met the Warners because of him and eventually came to join Powell’s expeditions.
“Boldness and persistence,” nodded Sheridan, “good signs of character. I imagine Mr. Warner told you that I am making plans for an expedition to explore the Yellowstone River area?”
“Yes sir.”
“Are you familiar with the area?” Sheridan asked.
“I recall Major Powell once saying the geology sounded fascinating—if the tales about it were true.”
Sheridan nodded. “This expedition’s mission is, essentially, to determine whether those tales are true.”
“Do you believe they are?”
“Some of them,” Sheridan said, with a grin. “The frontiersman Jim Bridger would have us believe we will find a petrified forest with petrified birds, singing petrified songs. And encounter places where you can shout ‘time to wake up’ before going to sleep, and the echo will return from the mountains six hours later to wake you.” Sheridan paused good-humoredly for effect. “However, he also made reports of volcanic features that sound credible. Let me show you something,” he said and then rose and led Jubil to the map table in the center of the room.
A large map of North America covered the surface. Beneath the table was a cabinet holding rolled-up maps. Sheridan pulled out four of them and unrolled two, weighting down their corners. Jubil thought fleetingly of the Grand Canyon expedition and how Oramel Howland, the mapmaker, had more than once lost his maps to the raging Colorado River. Oramel had not survived that trip.
Jubil leaned in to have a closer look at Sheridan’s maps. One was primitively drawn, the other a more artful effort.
“The crudely drawn map was done by Jim Bridger,” Sheridan explained, “renowned trapper, scout, explorer, businessman, and teller of tall tales. The other was done by a Jesuit priest named Father De Smet, in collaboration with Bridger. These maps were drawn in the early 1850s. As you can see, they illustrate and label a number of exotic geologic features.”
Jubil studied the maps closely. Bridger’s map was a simple set of scrawled lines, squiggles, and circles representing rivers, mountains, and lakes, some of which were labeled, some not. The Yellowstone River was a line that came in from the northwest, turned east for bit, and then went south, where it passed through an oval labeled Grand Canyon waterfalls, then on south into a circle representing a large lake. To the west of the lake, lines for the Firehole River and its confluence with the Madison were shown, and nearby was an area he had labeled Volcanic Region. In the northwest corner was a circle labeled Sulphur Mountain.
Father De Smet had redrawn Bridger’s doodles and scrawls into a clearer, better proportioned picture of the area, with features artfully drawn and legibly labeled: rivers, lakes, mountains, and hot springs. The area in the west which Bridger had labeled Volcanic Region, was now labeled Great Volcanic Region. In the territory above and below the central geography, De Smet had added the names of two Indian tribes in large block letters: Blackfeet in the northwest, Crow in the southeast.
“Why was a priest drawing maps for Jim Bridger?” asked Jubil.
“He drew it for the army, not for Bridger,” explained Sheridan. “In the mid-1840s Bridger established a trading post along the new Oregon Trail. He called it Fort Bridger. It was south of the Yellowstone area and east of the Great Salt Lake. By the early 1850s the Oregon Trail had split the buffalo plains in two, and the Indians were growing aggressive in retaliation. The government offered peace terms that allowed them to build forts along the trail, and in return the Indians would receive reserved lands. Father De Smet was a missionary administering salvation to the tribes around Fort Bridger, so the Army called on him to draw maps of these new Indian territories. While he was at it, he drew this one of the Yellowstone area.”
