On a warm July day in 1874, 275 men, 310 horses, 143 oxen and 187 carts and wagons left Fort Dufferin, Manitoba.
Each man was dressed in a bright red uniform with polished boots.
Optimism was high, as the two-kilometre-long line marched towards the Rocky Mountains.
It would not take long for that optimism to disappear.
Over the next four months, the men endured insect plagues, extreme thirst, storms and near starvation.
When they finally reached their destination, those crisp new uniforms were rags, and the polished boots were wrapped in sacks to protect their feet.
It was a journey that nearly ended an iconic Canadian symbol before it got started.
I’m Craig Baird, this is Canadian History Ehx and today we are surviving the trials and tribulations of a terribly planned and poorly executed March West by the North West Mounted Police!
If you’re a longtime listener of this show you know that for 200 years beginning in 1670, the Hudson’s Bay Company controlled Rupert’s Land, the massive region that made up its fur trading empire.
Three million square kilometres in all stretching from the Rockies to the Arctic and Labrador and covering the Hudson Bay watershed.
By the mid-part of the 19th century, times were changing, fur trade wasn’t as lucrative, and a newly formed Canada was knocking at the company’s door.
The Hudson’s Bay Company began the process of ending its claim over that immense land that had been occupied by the First Nations for thousands of years on Nov. 19, 1869.
That day, the company surrendered its charter to the British Crown.
On June 23, 1870, the British government approved the land transfer to Canada which would become effective July 15, 1870.
With that, the North West Territories was created. The great expanse of land included what would become Nunavut, the Yukon, the northern sections of Quebec and Ontario, and Manitoba, Saskatchewan and Alberta.
But the land was primarily occupied by the First Nations, shrinking bison herds and scattered pockets of settlers around various forts.
More settlers were expected, but before they arrived, the government needed to extend its influence and control in the area as it didn’t have any real form of law enforcement.
And that presented a problem.
You will remember from the Jerry Potts episode that whiskey traders were a major problem in the Canadian West in the 1860s and 1870s.
Whiskey forts like Fort Whoop-up, located in the present location of Lethbridge, Alberta, thrived while doing irreparable harm to the First Nation population.
For just two cups of whiskey, traders purchased furs and supplies that could be sold for a massive markup.
Whiskey forts were nearly always run by Americans who walked over the border to trade with little consequence.
As more Americans arrived during gold rushes, there was a growing risk the United States would annex Canadian territory.
What the west needed was law enforcement to drive the whiskey men out and create a permanent Canadian presence.
The idea to create the police force had existed in the mind of Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald since 1869, but the deployment of a force was delayed by the Red River Resistance in 1869 and 1870, and the Fenian Raids of the late-1860s.
In 1871, Lt. William Butler, a British Army officer, recommended to Macdonald that he create a force of 150 men operating under a commissioner which focused on the northern trade routes in western Canada, but this would leave the border with the United States without law enforcement.
Another British officer, Colonel Patrick Robertson-Ross, recommended in 1872 that a force of 550 men be deployed, with a focus on the border, rather than the north.
Macdonald decided that a force of about 250 men, patrolling all the Canadian West, was the best option.
On May 23, 1873, an act with the purpose of creating a mounted police force who would monitor the Canadian West from Manitoba to the Rocky Mountains was introduced to Parliament and the Mounted Police Act passed unopposed.
The new force was modelled on the Royal Irish Constabulary which influenced the uniforms and system of policing of the North-West Mounted Police, as well as the Victoria Police in Australia, the New Zealand Armed Constabulary and the Royal Newfoundland Constabulary.
Macdonald also liked that the force was a direct representative of the British Crown and although it was originally called the North-West Mounted Rifles, he changed the name to Police to avoid the Americans thinking a military force was going out west.
And almost as soon as the NWMP was created, an incident proved why the force was badly needed.
On June 1, 1873, American whiskey traders and wolf hunters wrongly accused Assiniboine people of stealing horses and killed at least 13 at a settlement in the Cypress Hills in present-day southwestern Saskatchewan.
The incident became known as the Cypress Hills Massacre and the lawless nature of it forced the government to accelerate the recruitment and deployment of the new police force.
The pressure was on.
The Conservative government of Sir John A. Macdonald fell from power on Nov. 7, 1873, and the new Liberal government of Alexander Mackenzie was not about to push the force on the backburner when they had plans for the transcontinental railway.
Mackenzie believed there were serious moral concerns with the whiskey trade, but his idea differed from Macdonald’s vision in that he wanted a Canadian-United States joint-military expedition.
He was only persuaded by Governor General Lord Dufferin, who stated there could be serious implications to Canadian sovereignty if the US military was deployed.
By the autumn of 1873, recruitment posters went up and advertisements were printed in newspapers across eastern Canada.
One that appeared in the Halifax Morning Chronicle in late-1873 stated,
“Active, Healthy Young Men, for service in the Mounted Police Force in the North West Territory. They must be of good character, single between the ages of 20 and 36, capable of riding. They will have to serve a term of three years.”
Applications from young men wanting to seek adventure flooded in Toronto alone had 662 applicants for 50 positions.
To be part of the new police force, applicants had to be male and between the age of 18 and 40. They also had to have good character and a sound constitution. The ability to read and write in either French or English was essential.
The sub-constables were to be paid 75 cents per day, and a constable would get one dollar per day.
Superintendents and surgeons were paid $1,000 to $1,400 a year, while commissioners were to receive $2,600 per year.
It would take a sub-constable nine years to make that same amount of money on their meagre pay.
Each person who served the full three years would be given 160 acres of land.
At the helm of this new force was Commissioner George French.
Born in Ireland in 1841, he had served as a Royal Artillery officer and established the Canadian Militia Gunnery School in Kingston in 1871.
Respected for his leadership and experience, he was charged with organizing the force and accomplishing their first mission.
The first recruits, about 50 in total, travelled by steamer for 875 kilometres to Prince Arthur’s Landing (now Thunder Bay).
From there, it was a grueling 700 kilometres walk along the Dawson Trail to Stone Fort near present-day Winnipeg.
That journey may have been difficult, but it was nothing compared to what they would endure the following year.
This first contingent arrived at Stone Fort in late-1873, where they remained through the winter and plotted their first mission.
In December 1873, word reached Commissioner George French that whiskey traders were selling liquor to the First Nations on the western shores of Lake Winnipeg. Which was illegal.
Inspector James Macleod took four officers with him to stop it.
After several days, they reached the whiskey traders’ cabin and arrested six men and confiscated 40 litres of whiskey.
They were the first North-West Mounted Police arrests.
In the spring of 1874, several more recruits joined, including 15-year-old Fred Bagley who was underage, but his father had served with Commissioner French in the British Imperial Army and an exception was made for him.
On June 6, 1874, two railway cars, crammed with 217 recruits, left Toronto heading west.
At Sarnia, nine railway cars full of equipment and horses were added, along with two more railcars of horses at Detroit.
The men arrived in Fargo, North Dakota on June 13.
Meanwhile, the force at Stone Fort began their journey south to Fort Dufferin.
The two forces met for the first time as a single unit on June 19, 1874, at the fort, and soon were ready to begin the March West.
As if warning of the trials to come, Mother Nature unleashed a terrible storm causing two-thirds of the horses to bolt.
Staff Constable Sam Steele, said,
“A thunderbolt fell in the midst of the horses. Terrified, they broke their fastening and made for the corral. The six men on guard were trampled underfoot as they tried to stop them. The maddened beasts overturned the huge wagons, dashed through a row of tents, scattered everything and made for the gate of the large field in which we were encamped.”
It took several days to round up all the horses.
On July 9 at 5 p.m., the force made up of 275-men in six divisions, with 310 horses, 143 oxen and 187 carts and wagons left Fort Dufferin heading West.
Among the recruits were nine farmers, 46 clerks, 43 skilled workers and 39 men with no previous experience. The remainder were made up of military and former police officers.
Each division of the new force was identified by the colour of their horses Division A used Dark Bays, B had Dark Browns, C had chestnuts, D had greys and buckskins, while E and F Divisions had blacks and light bays.
Also accompanying them were two field guns, two mortars, cattle, mowing machines and Henri Julien.
Julien was a cartoonist and journalist who would become the first full-time editorial cartoonist in Canada.
When the March West began, he was only six years removed from the College of Ottawa.
Still a young man, he was working for Canadian Illustrated News when Commissioner French tapped him to join the march and hopefully drum up some positive press for the new police force.
The force looked majestic as they rode away into the sunset along the prairies away from the fort.
In truth the bright red uniforms were impractical for prairie conditions, either being too hot and itchy in the sun, or heavy when soaking wet in the rain and taking far too long to dry.
The horses were from eastern Canada and not suited for long treks while pulling wagons.
The Snider-Enfield Mark I single shot carbine rifles the men carried were inferior for hunting to the repeating rifles used by settlers and First Nations in the west.
The route chosen for the journey was not the easy and well-established fur trade trail that ran from the Red River area to Fort Edmonton.
That easier route only required a turn south at Fort Edmonton, and two extra weeks to Fort Whoop-Up.
Believing they could save time; French and North-West Territories Lt. Governor Alexander Morris chose a new route through unknown and difficult terrain.
Worst of all, Commissioner French assumed there would be drinking water along the way did not bring large supplies of water which caused problems almost immediately.
Only two days out from Fort Dufferin, Bagley wrote in his diary,
“We had nothing to eat or drink from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m.…Collected buckets of water by digging in mud.”
By the third day, the horses were already becoming so weak that French ordered the troops to walk every second hour to give the horses a rest.
This may have helped the horses, but the terrain quickly began to wear down the men.
Bagley’s feet became so blistered and bloody that within a day t Captain James Walker had to carry him on his back.
On the fourth day, the force stopped at a small pond called Grant’s Place where some killed ducks for food.
They earned a swift reprimand but that would be the least of their worries.
Wanting to quench their thirst after eating ducks, the men drank directly from the pond.
Unfamiliar with prairie cholera, the men developed a terrible gastrointestinal condition that would plague them on the trail as they endured days on the march in soiled pants.
On the fifth day, the troops camped near the Pembina Mountains expecting a quiet evening before another long day.
Unfortunately, that peaceful night was cut short as swarms of grasshoppers descended on the camp and began to make quick work of the canvas tents the men were sleeping in and forced them to pack up s in the middle of the night and had to sleep in the open air.
By the 12th day, the men were finally able to rest and observe the Sabbath.
Resting along the Souris River in present-day southern Manitoba, the break offered the force their first opportunity to bathe and wash their clothes.
It was a welcome relief for the men who drank pond water 12 days earlier.
Despite a day of rest, the difficult times lay ahead.
French and his officers had grossly underestimated the available food for the horses.
There was little on the bare prairie for livestock to eat as grasshoppers had eaten everything available, and the haying machines produced next to nothing.
On July 22, horses began to die of starvation and exhaustion.
The intense prairie summer heat wasn’t helping.
As the force crossed the Souris River, several horses were abandoned, while others died where they stood.
Col. French attempted to put the best spin he could on the journey for the press back home. The British Whig Standard wrote on July 24,
“Col. French writes in excellent spirits and reports everything going smooth. Further progress westward will be accomplished by the ordinary day’s march. The loss of horses has been only two, all big stories the contrary not withstanding.”
Over the next week, dysentery spread among the men in A Division caused by bacterial and parasitic infections that entered the body through contaminated food and water.
The British Whig Standard wrote,
“A letter received in Toronto states that much sickness prevails among the Mounted Police and that it is contemplated to send A Battery from Kingston to reinforce the expedition. Scurvy through salt meat diet accompanied by no vegetables is stated to be general.”
‘A’ Battery out of Kingston was never sent to help, but the ‘A’ Division of the North-West Mounted Police was about to head to a new location.
By July 29, several members were left behind as the rest of the force moved farther south.
The remaining members of A Division, consisting of 12 troops, 55 of the weakest horses, 24 wagons, 55 carts, 50 head of cattle and 62 oxen, were placed under the command of Inspector W.D. Jarvis and Sub-Inspector Albert Shurtliff.
They broke off from the rest of the force and traveled towards Fort Edmonton, far to the northwest, but along a much easier trail.
By the end of July, the horses were too weak to carry riders or pull a wagon, so the men had to do it all. At the end of a long day of hauling, with no wood or even bison dung to start fires, the men were left hungry for the night without supper.
As the expedition neared 30 days, the bad luck continued.
On Aug. 1, 1874, Henri Julien, the reporter and cartoonist went on his own to hunt ducks.
After dismounting his horse to get a duck his trusty steed bolted, and Julien was left chasing his horse for hours on foot.
When he finally caught it, the sun was setting.
By the time he reached camp, he found nothing but empty prairie. He tethered his horse and slept under the stars.
The next day, Julien’s horse bolted again.
When a search party sent out by Commissioner French found Julien later that day, his hands and feet were bloody from walking and crawling to catch his horse.
Worse yet, his face was unrecognizable because tormenting mosquitoes fed on him all night.
Into modern-day Saskatchewan, the journey was not better.
Food was running out, and men continued to drink from contaminated pond water whenever they had the chance.
At Old Wives Lake, located west of present-day Regina, a group of sick soldiers were left behind with livestock.
On Aug. 18, a colony of flying ants tormented the men on the trail throughout the day.
Three days later, the North-West Mounted Police came across a group of men that included Pierre Leveille, his sons Paul and Gabriel, and Roman Catholic priest Pere Lestaing.
Leivelle wrote later,
“They looked terrible. They wore little bits of hats no bigger than a plate. These gave no shade at all, and their faces were burned almost black, and they were all bitten by mosquitoes. The horses’ tails were bobbed right to the bone like they would be in England. The tail was thus no use to the horse to keep off the mosquitoes and the flies.”
On Aug. 24, the expedition reached the Cypress Hills, on the modern border of Alberta and Saskatchewan. It is a stunningly beautiful area, but for the men it was just another location for suffering.
The weather turned wet and cold, and more horses died as the troops traveled through the hills.
French ordered every man to surrender one of his blankets to cover the horses at night.
Bagley wrote in his diary,
“The Commissioner seem to be very hazy as to where we are. Everyone glum and low spirits. Future prospects gloom.”
At this point, the force should have been close to Fort Whoop-Up. Cypress Hills was 200 kilometres from Whoop Up or about 10 days of marching.
Unfortunately for the troops, they weren’t close.
Commissioner French believed Fort Whoop-Up was located at the junction of the Bow and South Saskatchewan Rivers, 120 kilometres to the northwest and 84 kilometres away from its actual location.
The officers and men marched northwest, instead of directly west, like they should have.
When the group arrived at that river junction on Sept. 10, they found nothing.
No fort.
No men.
No whiskey.
Only three dilapidated, long since abandoned shacks sat there instead.
Worse yet, French had hoped there would be good land for grazing but instead he found quote,
“Little better than a desert.”
Once again, the men were forced to drink muddy water from a marshland.
Search parties went out in all directions to see if Fort Whoop-Up was nearby, but it was at least four to five days southwest they found nothing.
With no other option, Commissioner French took the force 110 kilometres straight south to the Sweet Grass Hills near the border with the United States where he hoped there would be food for the horses.
After reaching the Sweet Grass Hills, French and a few officers went to Fort Benton, Montana to buy supplies and hire a scout.
That’s where French met Jerry Potts.
Jerry Potts is a fascinating individual who once worked for whiskey traders before they caused his mother’s death.
After that, whiskey traders began to go missing. No one could say that it was Potts for sure, but everyone believed he was a vengeful force in the prairie.
On Sept. 25, 1874, Commissioner French and Assistant Commissioner James MacLeod met Jerry Potts and were unimpressed. They saw a short, bow-legged man with sloping shoulders who did not command the room.
His clothes were greasy, and a bowler hat completed his odd look.
But with little options available, French and Macleod hired him, and it would prove to be one of the best decisions they ever made.
In fact, Macleod would one day say that Jerry Potts was the greatest scout who ever lived, and the two became lifelong friends.
As they made their way back to the larger group of troops, those waiting in the Sweet Grass Hills were not having a good time.
Bison had cleared the prairie of grass, and many of the ponds in the hills were full of foul water.
The horses were getting weaker, and the men were using sacks on their feet because their boots had worn out.
So many horses had died the area was named of Dead Horse Valley.
At the beginning of October, French and Potts arrived in the Sweet Grass Hills where French decided to split up the force.
Division D and E would travel back east with French to Fort Dufferin, while Divisions B, C and F would continue onwards to Fort Whoop-Up under the command of James MacLeod.
On Oct. 6, they left Sweet Grass Hills and Jerry Potts guided them to Fort Whoop-Up.
Three days later, the North-West Mounted Police finally reached Fort Whoop-Up.
The whiskey traders, likely because they knew the force was coming, abandoned the fort and took everything with them. No trace of whiskey was found.
There was only one man left behind, the fort’s agent, Dave Akers.
The fort would serve as NWMP headquarters, and Macleod offered Akers $10,000 to buy it.
Akers countered with $25,000 and Macleod refused.
Unable to use the perfectly good fort in front of him, Macleod had to find a location for a new fort.
Once again, Potts came to the rescue.
He led the force to an island in the Oldman River near the Rocky Mountains, about an hour and a half south of present-day Calgary.
He advised them to build Fort Macleod there and it became the headquarters for the North-West Mounted Police where 10 officers, 140 constables, 105 horses and 38 cattle finally ended their long March West.
They had survived thirst, starvation and plagues of insects to reach their destination.
By the end of 1874, six posts were established in the west for the Mounties at Fort Dufferin, Swan River, Fort Garry, Fort Ellice, Fort Edmonton and Fort Macleod.
From here, the force became a defining part of Canadian identity.
From the Klondike Gold Rush to the Hunt for the Mad Trapper, the image of the North-West Mounted Police and now the RCMP, has become a cultural symbol of Canada worldwide.
But what happened to the March’s leadership?
Commissioner George French served with the North-West Mounted Police until 1876 when he returned to the British Army. He eventually became a major general and was stationed in India and Australia.
Following his retirement in 1902, he was knighted and spent the last 19 years of his life guarding the Crown Jewels in the Tower of London. He died on July 7, 1921.
James Macleod, French’s right-hand man, served as Commissioner from 1876 to 1880. He was one of the first three members of the permanent Northwest Territories Council from 1876 to 1880.
In 1887, he was appointed to the Supreme Court of the Northwest Territories, and he died on Sept. 5, 1894.
Sam Steele became a legend of the Canadian West. He met with Sitting Bull in 1877, and during the 1885North-West Resistance he fought at the Battle of Frenchman’s Butte.
In 1898, he became the Commissioner of the Yukon, where he ensured the Klondike Gold Rush was one of the most orderly gold rushes in history.
After serving in the Boer War as the commander of Lord Strathcona’s Horse, he commanded the South African Constabulary from 1902 to 1906, and then returned to Canada where he wrote his memoirs.
In 1914, despite being in his mid-60s, he requested active duty to fight in the First World War. He was given command of the Second Canadian Division prior to its deployment in France. On July 1, 1918, he was knighted by the King.
On Jan. 30, 1919, the Spanish Flu virus did what war never could, it killed Sam Steele.
Jerry Potts continued to be a legend of the Canadian West and when he died of cancer in 1896, he was buried with full honours by the North West Mounted Police. Be sure to check out my full episode about this amazing person.
As for young Fred Bagley, the 15-year-old who enlisted in May 1874, he went on to serve with the North-West Mounted Police for 25 years. He later served in the Boer War where he held the rank of captain with the Fifth Canadian Mounted Rifles. During the First World War, he was the second-in-command of the 192nd Battalion. He retired in 1924 and moved to Banff where he spent the rest of his days working at the Natural History Museum.
