A reassessment of the military's role in developing the Western territories moves beyond combat stories and stereotypes to focus on more non-martial accomplishments such as exploration, gathering scientific data, and building towns.
"Custer came to me and said: 'Porter, there is a large camp of Indians ahead, and we are going to have a great killing.'" The words of army contract surgeon Henry R. Porter are chilling today in their matter-of-fact reference to the battle to come--a battle of which Porter would be one of the few white survivors. Drawing on his writings, this biography tells the story of Porter's transformation from young easterner to ambitious frontier settler and medical practicioner in mid-19th century America. In its details of frontier life, of the infamous Battle of Little Bighorn, and of Porter's later travels around the world (which ended with his death in Agra, India), the reader finds richness that brings history vividly to life. Appendices contain a list of items from the North Dakota Historical Society's Henry R. Porter collection and a detailed Porter lineage.
Hoping to complete its transcontinental route, the Northern Pacific Railroad set out in 1872 to survey the Yellowstone Valley. An emissary from the Lakota chief Sitting Bull had warned the two surveying expeditions (eastern and western) not to enter the valley. But no one—certainly no Northern Pacific investor—was worried about taking the Indian threat seriously. As it turned out, the Indians were deadly serious—and successful. The firsthand accounts compiled here by M. John Lubetkin document the survey’s three-month struggle with the Lakotas and other Plains Indian people. Before Custer: Surveying the Yellowstone, 1872 tells the story of a military and public relations disaster. Much to the surprised dismay of U.S. Army strategists and railroad executives, the Indians repeatedly harrassed army forces of nearly a thousand men. One surveying party turned back, without meeting its objectives, after a determined attack led by Sitting Bull. The other also retreated, and one ambush it encountered resulted in the death of a member of President Ulysses S. Grant’s family and the narrow escape of the railroad’s lead engineer. The previously unpublished documents that Lubetkin has collected and annotated also tell a parallel story: that of the dire consequences of the railroad’s problems for the country. When the Northern Pacific’s expansion plans were thwarted, the nation’s largest private banking house failed, leading to the Panic of 1873. The fighting brought Sitting Bull to national attention and led directly to George Armstrong Custer’s transfer to the Department of Dakota. The vivid eyewitness accounts artfully assembled here reveal the failures of alcoholic army commanders and show personal encounters between soldiers and Indians, among them the formidable Lakota warrior known as Gall. Before Custer tells of a little-known but crucial episode in the history of westward expansion and Native peoples’ efforts to halt that expansion.
In 1869, Jay Cooke, the brilliant but idiosyncratic American banker, decided to finance the Northern Pacific, a transcontinental railroad planned from Duluth, Minnesota, to Seattle. M. John Lubetkin tells how Cooke’s gamble reignited war with the Sioux, rescued George Armstrong Custer from obscurity, created Yellowstone Park, pushed frontier settlement four hundred miles westward, and triggered the Panic of 1873. Staking his reputation and wealth on the Northern Pacific, Cooke was soon whipsawed by the railroad’s mismanagement, questionable contracts, and construction problems. Financier J. P. Morgan undermined him, and the Crédit Mobilier scandal ended congressional support. When railroad surveyors and army escorts ignored Sioux chief Sitting Bull’s warning not to enter the Yellowstone Valley, Indian attacks—combined with alcoholic commanders—led to embarrassing setbacks on the field, in the nation’s press, and among investors. Lubetkin’s suspenseful narrative describes events played out from Wall Street to the Yellowstone and vividly portrays the soldiers, engineers, businessmen, politicians, and Native Americans who tried to build or block the Northern Pacific.
In Burt Russell Shurly; A Man of Conviction, A Life in Medicine and Education, 18711950, Robert Vanderzee continues the story of the Shurly family, focusing on a physician and educator who, with the help of his mentor, chose medicine over the military life his father had planned for him. Vanderzee, the oldest grandson of Burt Shurly, relies on his extensive research into family archives, records, and scrapbooks to share memories of a man who married into the wealthy Palms family of Detroit, excelled in his career, and personally saved his alma mater from bankruptcy. Vanderzee chronicles Shurlys life and career, which included serving as a medical officer during the Spanish- American War, commanding a medical unit in France during World War I, and later leading the fight against diphtheria, typhoid, and tuberculosis while establishing the controversial Shurly Hospital. Interweaving local history, family letters, newspaper articles, and personal anecdotes, Vanderzee provides an intriguing glimpse into the life of a remarkable man who was gifted with intellect, enormous personal energy, and a keen sense of humorand used those attributes to earn success for himself, his family, and his community during an fascinating period in Detroit history.
An excellent biography of one of the principal commanders of the Civil War who was also a renowned politician after the war. Annotation copyrighted by Book News, Inc., Portland, OR