Captain Marsh - part 3

By Dan R. Conway

(First published in the Hysham Echo on April 21, 1927)

Capt. Marsh and a Bad Man

Some days following the White Earth episode, a so-called bad man by the name of Gilmore started trouble among the passengers and Captain Marsh threatened to put him ashore. Gilmore swore he would kill the captain but he lacked the nerve to act openly until after the boat had left the hostile Indian country. Finally, one day when the Luella had been forced to the bank, Gilmore insulted Captain Marsh who at once challenged the man to a pistol duel, which immediately dampened Gilmore’s ardor. He refused to fight and Captain Marsh struck him in the face, threatening to kill him if he did not fight. The captain’s friends prevailed upon him to let the matter pass, and Gilmore was put ashore at Sioux City.

The Far West

At the foot of Charbonnier Bluffs, above St. Louis, and in sight of old Fort Bellefontaine, where long ago the flags of France and Spain floated over the infant territory of Louisiana, buried beneath the silt along the shores of “Big Muddy,” lies the hulk of another river steamer, the fame of which will love as long as America endures; and the name of which shall always be linked closely with that of this same Captain Grant Marsh. The Far West was the most famous of all boats that plied the waters of the Upper Missouri, the vial portion of her history being connected with the military campaigns of Generals Terry, Custer, Gibbon and Crook.

It was the Far West that carried the news of the battle of the Little Big Horn to the outside world. In the many accounts which have been chronicled of the campaigns and a battles on Montana’s prairies during the summer and fall of 1876, little has been said of the important role played by the Far West; yet, there are few craft which have become so closely allied with our American history as this old stern wheeler.

Difficult as was the campaigning in that desolate wilderness, it would have been infinitely more difficult had not an ably manned and skillfully navigated steamer been at hand, ready for any sort of service at a moment’s notice. The Far West was used in several capacities by the army during its months in the field; as a ferry boat, dispatch boat, patrol boat, transport or hospital ship, each as the occasion demanded.

Captain Marsh was in charge of the Far West during this important campaign, and as the Far West was the most famous of river steamers, so Captain Marsh was the most noted of all the river captains who plied the waters that wash through the plains of Montana and the Dakotas.

Captain Marsh was born in Pennsylvania in 1834. At 12 years of age, he applied to Captain Alfred Reno of the Steamer Dover, lying at the levee at Pittsburgh, Pa., for a job as cabin boy, and he proudly took his place among the crew as the boat swung out into the current of the Ohio and thence to the Mississippi, Bearing him on his first voyage.

Mark Twain at the Helm

In 1858 and 1859 he was mate of the A. B. Chambers, engaged in the New Orleans trade, when the boat, with its passengers and crew was saved from destruction by the coolness and ability of the young second pilot, who was none other than Sam Clemens, later famous as Mark Twain. Captain Marsh relates that when the A. B. Chambers was begin prepared for the trip to the gulf, it was thought necessary to employ two pilots to take her down the river. One of these, James C. Delancey, proved unfortunate, frequently running the boat aground. His services were dispensed with and the packet was placed in the hands of Clemens, a smooth-faced young fellow, quiet and retiring and popular with the passengers and crew. He proved an excellent navigator, knowing the river thoroughly and possessing the judgement to make the best use of his knowledge. Before he had taken charge of the boat, it had gone hard aground on the foot of Power’s Island, 165 miles below St. Louis. No wood yard was near and the fuel had given out, so the captain ordered Marsh to take a yawl with a crew back up the river two miles and float a wood-raft down. Clemens was sent along to navigate. To keep out of the ice-filled channel, Clemens crossed to the Illinois shore and then turned upstream through a narrow cut-off between Burnham’s island and the main bank. To cross a small boat through one of these spaces of open water amid the ice floes was an exceedingly hazardous undertaking. With the ice lodged above, no man could tell whether it would remain stationary long enough for them to cross, or break and overwhelm them in mid-channel.

At length a favorable opportunity seemed to come and the pilot ordered the men to pull for the Missouri shore. They had gone but a few yards when the jam broke and a mountain of ice surged down on them.

“Turn back, quick, Sam,” shouted Marsh to Clemens. “We’ll be crushed.”

“No,” answered the pilot quietly watching the river and continuing to hold his rudder square. “Go ahead as fast as you can.”
Putting every ounce of muscle into the oars, the crew rowed on, the ice seeming to open before them, while between them and the shore they had left, it closed in a seething cauldron. As though by miracle they slipped through in safety and later returned, towing a flat raft of firewood to the stranded steamer. But for Clemens, the lives of all in the yawl would undoubtedly have been lost.

In 1864, Captain Marsh made his first trip up the Missouri. By 1866 he had acquired an intimate acquaintance with the changeful Yellowstone not possessed by other navigators, and it was but natural that General Sheridan should look to him to command the supply boat when plans were being formulated for the campaign of 1876. Early in the spring the general notified Captain Marsh that his services would be required and requested him to select a steamer adapted to the work ahead.
After thoroughly considering the situation, the captain decided that of the several boats of the Coulson Packet company at his disposal, the Far West would be the most suitable. She was not so comfortable nor commodious a craft as the Josephine, but she possessed ample freight carrying capacity together with light draught, and the fact that she could accommodate but few passengers was one of his chief reasons for selecting her. He knew that he was setting out upon a summer of arduous work, during which the boat would be obliged to remain in close touch with the troops in the field and he did not wish to be burdened with many passengers of whose safety and comfort he would have to be responsible. From previous experience he knew that more or less wounded men would probably have to be accommodated from time to time, whose presence would inconvenience any idle pleasure seekers on board. The absence of a large cabin furthermore rendered the Far West a very manageable boat in the high winds which often prevailed in northern Dakota and Montana during the summer months, for it had no “Texas” and its short upper works offered little resistance to the wind.

The Far West had been built for the Coulsons at Pittsburgh in 1870. She was 190 feet long, 33 feet beam and her draught, when loaded to her full capacity of 400 tons, was four feet, six inches, while unloaded she drew 20 inches. Thirty passengers were all her cabin could accommodate. Her mode of power consisted of two fifteen-inch diameter engines of five-foot piston stroke, built by the Herbertson Engine Works of Brownsville, Pa., and she carried three boilers. She was also proved with two steam capstans, one on each side of the bow, being the first boat ever built with more than one, although afterward all Missouri river steamers were similarly equipped. Light, strong and speedy, she was eminently a vessel for hard and continuous service. During her long tour of duty that summer the government paid $260 per day for her use.

At Yankton, where the Far West had spent the winter, she began loading with government stores for Fort Lincoln and the troops in the field as soon as she could be brought to the levee after the ice went out, and with a full cargo she left Yankton about the middle of May. Her officers, who remained with her throughout the summer, were as follows: Grant Marsh, captain and pilot; Dave Campbell, pilot; Ben Thompson, mate; George Foulk and John Hardy, engineers; and Walter Burleigh, clerk. The trip to Fort Lincoln was quick and uneventful, and she reached the post on May 27, to find that the expedition had started for the Yellowstone ten days before.

Luncheon for Ladies

The few persons remaining at the fort, including the families of the absent troops, hailed the appearance with rejoicing. It was the first break in the monotony of their existence since the departure of the column, and the day of its arrival was treated by them as a holiday. The wives of the officers in Custer’s regiment all came down to the river and made themselves at home on the boat while she was unloading, as was customary at the isolated frontier posts. Captain Marsh was busy throughout the morning superintending the discharge of cargo, but he instructed the steward to prepare as dainty a luncheon as the larder of the boat could afford, and spread it in the small cabin for the ladies.


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