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Fort Rawlins, Utah: A Question of Mission and Means
Utah Historical Quarterly
Vol. 42, 1974, No. 1
Fort Rawlins, Utah: A Question of Mission and Means
BY STANFORD J. LAYTON
TOWARD MIDNIGHT, September 22, 1870, the quiet of the moonless autumn evening in Provo, Utah, was shattered by a chorus of profane shouts and the sound of gunfire. Among those awakened by this uncommon noise was Bishop William Miller, city alderman, who later deposed that as he awoke and began dressing, the sound of loud pounding on his front door reached him in his upstairs bedroom. Before he could respond several shots were fired into his bedroom from the outside. Descending the stairs he found himself confronted by several men who had forced open his front door. Upon asking their intent he was accosted at gunpoint and told to "march." Only then did he recognize his assailants as U.S. soldiers.
Alderman Miller was then marched down West Main Street, prodded by bayonet points at periodic intervals, and subjected to a number of verbal threats. Among other things he was told he was to be beaten to death and that a portion of his personal property would be destroyed. Not until he had been escorted nearly half the length of the street did he learn the immediate source of contention. The soldiers, it seemed, held the impression that Miller had agreed to rent them his hall for a party that evening. Upon arriving in town from Fort Rawlins, a recently established garrison on the Provo River some two and a half miles away, the soldiers had found the hall closed. They had then moved their party to another house, kept by U.S. Deputy Assessor J. M. Cunningham, where they had drunk generous quantities of beer and liquor to the hoedown tunes of three youthful Provo musicians.
Grasping the essence of the situation, Bishop Miller assured the group that they had no legitimate grievances against him because he had never agreed to rent them the hall in the first place, and any misunderstanding on that point was none of his doing. The soldiers then marched Miller to Cunningham's residence, aroused the deputy assessor, and sought clarification. Cunningham substantiated Miller's claim, whereupon the alderman was released. Turning to leave, he was extended a fractional apology by one of the ranking men who assured Miller that he would not be molested further and that claims for damages to his home would be paid. The soldier then explained that the troops had been stationed in the valley for sixty days during which time they had tried to be sociable but that the young men and women of the community refused to associate with them because "the Bishops and the old heads counselled them not to do so."
Bishop Miller was not the only resident of Provo to suffer abuse at the hands of the rowdy soldiers that night, nor was he the only one who sustained property damage from the affair. Thomas Fuller and two companions, camped in the tithing yard where they were engaged in repair work on the telegraph line, were rounded up at gunpoint and marched to the meeting house block by four soldiers. During their hour-long detention they were subjected to a constant barrage of verbal abuse. Fuller himself was assaulted with a variety of weapons including a bayonet which caused the blood to flow freely from his forehead. He later described the behavior of the soldiers:
They said they would like to catch some more Mormons and take them over to Camp, try them, and "damn them they would hang them." They shouted as they went along the streets, "Come out you God damned Mormons and Mountain Meadow massacres," using other indecent language threatening to kill the Mormons and take their wives away from them. They shot pistols at the houses as they passed along.
Others swept up in the melee and subjected to similar indignities were A. H. Bowen and Abram Holladay, both of whom were city policemen on duty that night, and Ezra Oakley and Hall Rhodes. Others suffering property damage were A. F. Macdonald, who ran the local drug store and had refused to sell liquor to the soldiers, and Bishop E. F. Sheets, who, like Miller, was a city alderman. Minor damage was also inflicted on the Co-operative Mercantile Store and the Co-operative Boot and Shoe Makers' Shop. In addition the ward meetinghouse sustained slight damage. A feeble attempt to set fire to that building had been made by one soldier, but he had abandoned the idea after striking several matches and applying them unsuccessfully to the base of the door.
After two hours of riotous behavior, the soldiers ceased further activity and retired to camp. The next morning, the city mayor, A. O. Smoot, began a preliminary investigation into the incident which revealed several facts. All the soldiers involved were stationed at Fort Rawlins. Approximately forty of them had attended the party in town, and of that number at least twenty had actively participated in the disturbance. Many of them were armed, and apparently all were under the influence of alcohol. During the disturbance they had maintained a rather constant flow of anti- Mormon imprecations which involved a number of direct references to the Mountain Meadows Massacre. No resistance had been offered by the local citizens. A number of them, including Holladay, were armed, but given the extreme darkness of the night they had been reluctant to fire for fear of hitting one of their own.
The repercussions of the "Provo Outrage," as the Salt Lake Herald labeled the incident, were felt immediately, and the entire affair quickly threatened to become a political snowball. The behavior of the soldiers was embarrassing not only to the post commander and higher army headquarters but to the territorial governor as well. From Gov. J. Wilson Shaffer's standpoint the incident occurred at a particularly inopportune moment. It had been only a matter of days since he had issued his proclamation against the drilling of an armed Mormon militia. Not surprisingly, this proclamation had been opposed with vituperative vigor by the editors of the Salt Lake Herald who charged that the action was deliberately calculated to leave the Mormon citizenry defenseless against unruly soldiers and a hostile territorial administration.
Naturally, the editors were delighted to exploit the Provo disturbance to the utmost, and it is certain that they succeeded in making even the calloused Shaffer squirm. The Herald referred to the occurrence as "one of the most dastardly outrages" ever chronicled, and in its impassioned coverage of the event resorted to audacious hyperbole. "This miserable scum, from Camp Rawlins," the report ran, "could attack defenceless [sic] women and unarmed men in their beds, but fled to Camp when the citizens aroused from their slumbers appeared in threatening numbers." The editors then addressed themselves directly to Governor Shaffer:
Governor Shaffer, of course, was in a difficult position. Choosing the Salt Lake City newspapers as his medium of communication, he addressed a letter, dated September 27, 1870, to Gen. P. R. DeTrobriand, commander of Camp Douglas:
I have waited thus long in the earnest hope that you would have taken such action in the premises as would convince the citizens that the soldiery was stationed at Provo to protect and not destroy. Hearing nothing like an explanation from the commanding officer there, and feeling that the outrage is one that should be followed by swift and certain punishment, I now, as Governor of the Territory, sworn to protect all the citizens, ask of you to deliver up to the civil authorities every individual, private or non-commissioned officer, engaged in the outrage, that I may see that they are properly tried, and if convicted, punished.
Continuing, Shaffer assured his audience that he held a high regard for the Mormons, that he was deeply committed to the protection of their rights and property, and that he would not condone mob action. He closed his letter by advising DeTrobriand that if the soldie rs could not "fulfill the high object" for which they were assigned duty in the territory, they should be withdrawn.
Shaffer's action was not only tardy, it was politically maladroit. His inflated rhetoric was not likely to gain him any friends among the Mormon citizens, for any rapport with them had vanished long ago. On the other hand, General De Trobriand was held in popular esteem within the Mormon community. And since the letter was public, it was obvious to the newspaper readers as well as to DeTrobriand himself, that Shaffer was maneuvering to channel any unpleasant consequences in the general's direction.
Meanwhile, DeTrobriand had responded to telegraphic instructions, dated September 24, 1870, from headquarters, Department of the Platte, and proceeded to Provo to conduct a thorough investigation. During his third day there Shaffer's letter was published. The general was furious. Returning to Camp Douglas the following day he wrote a lengthy letter to the governor, via the Deseret Evening News and the Salt Lake Herald, wherein every sentence reflected undisquised indignation. In no uncertain terms he reminded Shaffer of the common knowledge that every post commander in the Department of the Platte reported directly to headquarters at Omaha, and that he shared neither authority nor responsibility for matters at Fort Rawlins. He criticized the governor for having assumed that no action had been initiated relative to the disturbance and reminded him that even the territorial governor was entitled only to such information on military matters as the military authorities chose to provide. The general then pointed out that he had not been five minutes in taking official action, whereas the governor had dallied five days. It followed that he was not interested in being accused of sluggishness as part of the governor's political antics. And as a matter of fact, he volunteered, several suspects were being held in custody at Fort Rawlins after the offer to turn them over to civil authorities at Provo had been rejected.
DeTrobriand did not stop there. "If it was not too much of a curiosity," he queried, "I would like to know if the real object of those who caused the 'U.S. soldiery,' as you say, to be sent to Provo, was not somewhat different from the high object so eloquently set forth by your Excellency." Borrowing a sheaf from the editorial format of the Herald or Deseret Evening News, he then assured the governor that "we of the Army are not of a meddling temper, we are no politicians; we don't belong to any ring; we have no interest in any clique, and we don't share in any spoils." He concluded his letter with the opinion that regardless of how the troops conducted themselves in the future, it "would certainly be a great blessing to all" if they were withdrawn.
The political ramifications of the Provo incident did not end with that letter but rather merged into the mainstream of nineteenth- century Utah political controversy. Neither Governor Shaffer nor General DeTrobriand figured much further in it. By the end of the following month the former had died and the latter had departed for an extended visit to France. Yet Fort Rawlins remained in existence until May 1871. Until now its story has never been told.
Fort Rawlins was established on July 30, 1870, under provisions of Special Field Orders No. 75, Headquarters, Department of the Platte, and was named in honor of the late Maj. Gen. John A. Rawlins. Its original garrison was drawn from Camp Douglas in the Salt Lake Valley and consisted of two understrength companies, B and K, of the 13th Infantry. Under command of Bvt. Col. A. S. Hough, the cantonment was located approximately two and a half miles from the city of Provo, on the north bank of the Timpanogos (Provo) River. This site was intended as temporary only, pending the establishment of a military reservation somewhat closer to the city. Awaiting further direction, the men set up tents and began work on a small canal to provision the camp with water from the river.
Within two weeks Brevet Colonel Hough had been reassigned, and command of Fort Rawlins was assumed by Capt. Nathan W. Osborne. His nine-month tenure of command, barely begun at the time of the riot, was characterized by frustration, acrimony, and ultimate failure. As a pawn in a political imbroglio, he could only lose. When relieved of command the following April, his military career had been virtually destroyed. Bitter and confused, he left Provo with the conviction that he had been betrayed by his commanding general, sabotaged by his own subordinates, and victimized by the Mormon civilians.
The correspondence between Captain Osborne and Headquarters, Department of the Platte, reveals that the young commandant of Fort Rawlins felt he was being consistently denied adequate support from higher headquarters. Mutual irritation was reflected in that correspondence from the beginnirg and the irritation intensified as time went on. The primary source of friction centered around barracks facilities and the September riot, but questions relating to discipline, manpower, and the military mission itself furthered the rift.
Upon assuming command, Osborne's immediate concern was the establishment of a permanent garrison and the construction of adequate quarters, storage sheds, and related facilities. When, by mid-September, no word on these matters had been received from Omaha, Osborne authorized the purchase of adobe brick and the hiring of two masons for the construction of fireplaces to heat some of the tents. Upon informing Department of the Platte of this decision, he was immediately asked for an explanation. Accordingly, he replied that autumn chill was in the air and that heat was essential to the welfare of the men, and he explained that since none of the soldiers possessed masonry skills he had considered it necessary to hire the work done. Headquarters responded by stating that the fireplaces could be built but not with hired help. To this restriction Osborne complained, without avail. Purchasing 150 feet of lumber for scaffolding to be used in the construction of the fireplace chimneys, he was again pressed for a full explanation by departmental headquarters.
It was October 28 before Captain Osborne received any clue from Omaha on departmental plans for the development of the post. In that dispatch he was advised that quarters would not be built until spring and that seven Sibley tents, with stoves, were being sent to house the troops through the winter. He was then asked to report on what terms a building could be rented in Provo for the storage of quartermaster and subsistence stores, and he was also asked for suggestions on improving the comfort of the existing facilities in anticipation of the winter months ahead. Osborne reported that he could rent the ideal building for $125 per month, and he requested authorization to purchase 21,000 adobe bricks in order to wall the officer's tents and 6,000 feet of lumber to floor all tents. In addition, he sought authorization to hire three carpenters and three masons to do the work. After some equivocation, departmental headquarters approved these requests and authorized the captain to rent the building for a period of six months. Not until December did the Sibley tents and stoves arrive, and only then did Osborne cease complaining that his men were suffering from the cold.
That Osborne was piqued by the questioning attitude of higher headquarters over his expenditures for development of the post is clearly evident in his communication to Omaha on November 9. Answering a query as to what, if anything, he had done to establish a post cemetery, he replied: "No material having been furnished, and expenditure palpably absolutely indispensable when ordered by the Post Commander having been subjected to Enquiry, it has not been thought advisable to purchase for other purposes." He then reminded headquarters that his latest request for authorization to provision the post with "articles necessary to its establishment and continuance" had been ignored. Comments such as these, when addressed to a general by a captain, have a way of being judged impertinent.
Had it not been for the riot on September 22, however, it is quite possible that other differences between Osborne and higher headquarters would have been resolved amicably. That incident, and subsequent events relating thereto, irrevocably damaged Osborne's standing with his commanding general, C. C. Augur, and drove the young captain to a point of desperation which ultimately jeopardized his career. Conceivably, the riot was also a major factor in the reluctance of higher headquarters to develop Fort Rawlins into a permanent military reservation.
For reasons not entirely clear, Captain Osborne failed to report the September riot to departmental headquarters. For an incident laden with such explosive political repercussions, this was most indiscreet. News of the incident was first received in Omaha by telegraph from General DeTrobriand after he had read of it in the Salt Lake newspapers. Naturally, General Augur was deeply irritated over this, and his next communication to Osborne, on September 24, was curt and austere even by military standards: "Col. D E T Robriand [sic] is ordered to investigate reported recent outrage by troops at Provo. You will afford him every facility and obey any order from him."
During the next three months friction continued to mount between General Augur and Captain Osborne over the investigation of the riot and the settlement of claims. Osborne was not provided with a copy of the report of investigation, which he took as a personal affront. Not until mid-November did he know what decisions were being made at higher levels, and when he finally learned of them he was utterly chagrined. Under provisions of Special Orders No. 302, Department of War, the amount of $308.00 was to be withheld pro rata from the pay of all officers and enlisted men present for duty at Fort Rawlins on the night of September 22, 1870, for payment of claims. To this Osborne penned a strong letter of protest, bypassing General Augur, and addressing it directly to the secretary of war in Washington, D.C.
But Osborne's objections did not stop with protesting the short-circuiting of traditional judicial procedures. He was equally concerned over the tendency this decision would have to erode the respect which the Mormon community was expected to hold for the garrison and for which Fort Rawlins had apparently been established in the first place. This decision, he warned the secretary of war, "leaves to the Mormon mind the influence that the Government in this instance condemns its own military representatives for lack of ability, or for lack of regard for its respectability." Reiterating this point in his final paragraph, Captain Osborne used some very revealing words. Not only did he give implicit voice to the fact that Fort Rawlins had been founded as part of President Ulysses S. Grant's "get tough" policy toward the Mormons, but he also reflected his frustration at having never received specific instructions on exactly what he was supposed to accomplish or what his latitude for action was. "That the Mormons should have restitution," he wrote, "and that the malefactors should be made examples of, I am most anxious, but respectfully and earnestly submit that such ends should be accomplished, without action calculated to weaken the efforts of those who are striving to wisely maintain the attitude apparently desired by the administration toward this peculiar people."
Osborne's protest was without effect. The extent of his success was to convince higher headquarters that payroll deductions should be levied only against those who were not hospitalized, on leave, or in confinement. Even then he delayed submitting the names of his soldiers in that category, and only after a series of mildly antagonistic exchanges between him and departmental headquarters was the list of names finally submitted on Christmas Day 1870. His own estimate of property damage, compiled with the assistance of three Provo carpenters, came to $135.00. His request that this figure be used as the basis of restitution was completely ignored by the departmental commander.
These events marked a turning point in the aims and attitudes of Captain Osborne. From the fall of 1870 until his relief of command in the spring of 1871, he assumed a defensive posture relative to the Mormon community. His policies were oriented toward one aim only — that of avoiding further incident with the civilian population. Ironically, the harder he worked toward that single goal, the greater the challenges became. Within a short time he had reached the conclusion that many Mormons were in league with a number of his soldiers to promote further embarrassment to his command. As he assumed the defensive, the civilian population had seized the offensive.
A letter from Osborne to departmental headquarters, written on November 3, 1870, discloses that he was then in this transitional stage. On the one hand he suggests that the Mormon population of Provo had reconciled themselves, albeit reluctantly, to the presence of federal troops in their midst. Yet his final paragraph betrays a nagging suspicion that such was not really the case. Again Osborne warns that if the departmental commander continues mum in his instructions relative to the exact mission of the garrison, Mormon respect for the troops could be expected to turn to contempt:
Two weeks prior to that dispatch, Captain Osborne had received a letter from A. O. Smoot, mayor of Provo, advising him that recently soldiers had been seen in Provo after 10:00 P.M. and asking what should be done in the event of a recurrence. Obviously with chagrin, if not mortification, Osborne replied that such soldiers, if unable to show a currently dated pass, should be arrested by the civilian authorities. Against the backdrop of the September 22 riot, there was little else Osborne could have done, yet a more graphic acknowledgement of his impotence is hardly imaginable.
Concomitant with Captain Osborne's shift to a defensive posture was his resolve to tighten discipline within his command. Clearly he could not afford the embarrassment of another incident with the civilian populace. Auspiciously, this resolve was coincidental with the arrival of seventy-seven additional enlisted men at Fort Rawlins — doubling the size of the garrison there — which Osborne had repeatedly requested on the basis of his assumption that a full-strength contingent was necessary to induce a respect from the Mormon community consistent with the purposes for which he assumed to post to have been established.
Fort Rawlins must have been a dismal sight to the replacement personnel that arrived in the dusk of December 29, 1870. There was not a permanent building of any type to greet their eyes, only tents. There were no trees in the cantonment area, just sagebrush. Located on the bluff, the garrison was subject to the full fury of the biting canyon winds, and the large canvas tents, being without lumber reinforcement, rattled incessantly. The nearest neighbor was an old bachelor who lived in an unadorned log cabin a half-mile away.
As if the physical setting of the post were not enough to erode the morale of even the hardiest nineteenth-century soldier, there was also the problem of ennui. The garrison seemed to be without a mission, and for the majority of the enlisted men this meant there was nothing to do. Furthermore, and one can safely assume that every one of the new troops learned of this within an hour after his arrival, there was no promise of any social activity in Provo. There would be no taverns and no women. There was not even a lowly camp follower within riding distance.
From the standpoint of command this would have been a difficult position for the most experienced and talented officer. For young Captain Osborne it was an impossibility. An examination of the courts-martial records of Fort Rawlins reveals that a type of undeclared warfare erupted between Osborne and his men during the first three months of 1871. Fifty-four men of the command — approximately one in three — were convicted under courts-martial during that time. Most of the convictions were for violations of the 99th, 45th, 21st, and 20th articles of war: conduct prejudicial to good order, dmnkeness on duty, absence without leave, and desertion, respectively. Clearly, by the spring of 1871 any semblance of morale had vanished. Neither pride nor esprit remained. From a military point of view the command was in a state of dissolution.
It was impossible, of course, for such a situation to escape the notice of higher headquarters for long. In this case notification was made by letter from one of Osborne's subordinate officers, Capt. Arthur MacArthur, Jr. Immediately, departmental headquarters pressed for an explanation. Osborne responded by requesting a court of enquiry in his behalf and by offering a preliminary explanation of his own:
The recent desertions, the captain commented, had occurred almost exclusively among the December recruits. He then shared his views on the complicity of the Mormons in the matter:
Osborne closed his letter with a denial of MacArthur's charge that the high rate of desertions from his command was due to maladministration. General Augur was apparently unimpressed. Within a month Osborne was relieved of command. There is no evidence that he was accorded his request for a court of enquiry.
Effective April 7, 1871, Captain Osborne was succeeded as commander of Fort Rawlins by Capt. Robert Nugent. Within a week of his appointment, Nugent received instructions from departmental headquarters to conduct an investigation into existing affairs of the garrison and to offer a report on any irregularities which might account for the high desertion rate. With his report, submittted on May 25, Osborne's disapprobation was complete. According to Nugent he had discovered four sweat boxes, constructed of lumber, and employed by Osborne as a means of punishment. The boxes were approximately twelve inches in depth, twenty inches wide, and six and a half feet deep. The front side was detachable, but when placed in position was secured tightly by an iron bar. The only ventilation was through the top, which was left open.
Nugent concluded his report with an explanation of why a statement from Private Clary was not included with the report: after his release from the sweat box he had promptly deserted.
But Captain Nugent never had the opportunity to show that he could succeed where Osborne had failed. On May 10,1871, less than five weeks after assuming command, he was notified by departmental headquarters that Fort Rawlins was to be closed. On May 19, Company K, with a train often wagons, left for Camp Douglas. They were followed a week later by ten more wagons. When the third train departed on May 31, the last of the quartermaster, commissary, and medical stores had been removed — everything, in fact, except 10,000 feet of lumber and 500 cords of firewood. Without sufficient army wagons to transport this material, Nugent stayed in Provo several more days in search of a purchaser for the firewood and a civilian contractor to transport the lumber to Camp Douglas. The highest bid tendered on the firewood was $2.50 per cord, and this was unacceptable to departmental headquarters. Nugent then arranged a contract with Benjamin Bachman to transport the firewood, at $8.50 per cord, as well as the lumber, at 40 cents per hundredweight, to Camp Douglas.
On June 10, 1871, Captain Nugent and the remaining contingent of seven men left Provo and rode northward toward Salt Lake City. It is doubtful that they had any regrets about leaving. For obvious reasons the Mormon community was delighted to see them go. If anyone had second thoughts, it was Benjamin Bachman, the contracting teamster. As a Provo merchant he had catered to the soldiers and had seen them spend a good deal of money in his store. It was he, in fact, who owned the large house kept by Deputy Assessor Cunningham, and in which the soldiers had held their party on that fateful night of the previous September.
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