days, but our commander, Colonel Carson, and his friend Chief Uray are our real strength. Carson has told all the Indians to camp near the fort and not go north for their presents this year. He has promised them food and presents if they stay and remain peaceful. Some of the young bucks will go to war, but Carson and Uray will keep the remainder of the Utes hobbled and staked.

October 28, 1866. Captain (A. J.) Alexander of the 3rd Cavalry and some of his men took care of Cuneatch’s band of trouble-makers. They rounded up most of them and brought them into the fort; had to kill a few of them, however, before they could get old Cuneatch to come. Colonel Carson wants to get some kind of agreement or treaty signed with this bunch of Utes before real trouble sets in.

April 25, 1868. Kit Carson is dead. He died on the 23rd, after his return from Washington. He and several Ute chiefs, including Chief Uray, went to Washington to confer on a treaty for the Ute or Utah Indians. The treaty was drawn-up, but hasn’t been ratified by Congress. But old Kit is dead! His last official act was to try to keep the peace.

July 17, 1868. My outfit is leaving Garland and this time I’ll be going along. I wonder when or if I’ll see the fort again? Meyer and Posthoff entertained the whole detachment last night with a farewell blow. Molly and our two little ones will have to follow me to the new post at a later date.

(The Valley was fairly peaceful during the years of Sgt. O’Connor’s absence. Life at the fort changed but little, as new companies of Infantry and Cavalry came and went.)

September 10, 1879. Back home again. Returned to Fort Garland last week after more’n ten years here, there and everywhere, with first one outfit and then another. A soldier’s life is a weary one. But it’s good to be back here where I really began soldiering. Let’s see now, been 19 years since I first came to Garland. The place has changed since the early days. Even got a railroad running by the fort—came in ’78. Two years earlier Colorado Territory was made the 38th State. New buildings have been added; all made of the same old adobe, of course. The parade is a little greener and the cottonwood trees have grown tall enough to make good shade. The barrack rooms are now heated with stoves as well as fireplaces and they’ve built a kitchen and mess to the southwest of the Infantry barrack. The soldiers’ quarters have a little more furniture and the officers’ quarters are a little more spick and span. More females about the place, too, now that the Valley is more civilized. The soldiers here are a lot younger than they used to be; lot of pink-faced boys who’ve never heard an Indian whoop.

The Fort’s West Barracks. Mount Blanca in the background. About 1900.

The Fort Abandoned. Officer’s Row, about 1900.

Fort Buildings in Ruins—just prior to restoration.

October 10, 1879. We just got news of the Indian uprising in Western Colorado. An Indian agent by the name of N. C. Meeker at the White River Agency was killed and some of his people killed or carried off. Major T. T. Thornburgh and his troops from Fort Steele, Wyoming, had been sent for before the affair began, but they didn’t arrive in time to save Meeker. Battle began on September 29th and took place somewhere between Beaver Creek and Milk River between Thornburgh’s men and a whole parcel of Utes under a chief named Jack. It’s said that Thornburgh had less than 150 men, mostly Cavalry, while the Utes numbered 300-400. A detachment of colored troops from Garland in on the affair, we’re told. Thornburgh made a defense and held off the Utes for several days, but the situation was pretty bad. By the 1st of October they got word to Rawlings, Wyoming and a General Merritt set out with about 350 men. On the morning of the 5th, after a 170 mile forced march, Merritt’s men arrived at the burned-over circle of wagons which marked the defender’s position. I know how Thornburgh’s men yelled when they saw that relief column that morning. I’ve set-up considerable howl myself on similar occasions. In cases like that you don’t care if the men coming to rescue you are Infantry or Cavalry, you’re that glad.

June 4, 1880. More troops coming into the fort every day. The fracas out at the White River Agency last year has caused considerable excitement, although the Indians around here have been fairly quiet. Chief Uray has done a lot to keep things peaceful in the valley. If he’d had his way about it, the Thornburgh affair wouldn’t have happened. The post and the town are bustling—they even got a hotel here now. It may not be much for comfort, but it’s something for these parts. If they don’t stop sending in new units and new men, some of us may be sleeping in worse places than the hotel.

September 1, 1880. Bad news came this week. Chief Uray or Ouray, as some call him, died on August 24. He’d been made big chief of the Utes and had held them pretty well in tow; hard to say what will happen now. More men coming into Garland. Most of the new-comers are living in tents.

“Only a Memory....”

June 1, 1881. Colonel (Brevet Brigadier General) R. S. Mackenzie, in command of the troops stationed here at the fort, has set out for the Uncompahgre valley to prepare to move the Utes into Utah. Old Ouray is dead and the thing he never wanted to see is going to happen—his people will be moved to a reservation. Maybe it’s best for them.

October 1, 1881. The Utes had to be threatened by Mackenzie before they’d start the long hike into Utah, but when they found they had no choice they went quietly and mighty pronto. The Whites thereabout were, of course, happy to see them leave. Everyone realizes that this puts an end to any Indian menace in the State.

March 16, 1882. With the Indians gone, the old fort is back to normal and maybe short of normal. Last year we had as many as 1500 men here—now we’re down to a couple of companies. My boys are growing up, but by the time they’re soldier age it appears there won’t be any place for them to soldier.

July 4, 1882. Had a big Independence Day celebration here today. Not much else to celebrate. Inspection team came to the fort again this week and it looks as if they’re going to close up all the old forts and kick-out all the old soldiers. The company commander, a young buck, had the brass to tell me I was getting too old to soldier. This fort’s getting old too. They haven’t been keeping the adobe walls plastered with mud like they used to and the rains have been making little rivers down the sides of the buildings.

February 5, 1883. At the end of this enlistment—which comes up in December this year—they say I’ve got to retire. I’m not an old man, but several old wounds