The year 1874 was pivotal for Western Canada
and in particular Fort Macleod. Louis Watson
and his Metis wife were living on an island in the
Oldman River, about a mile east of the present
town of Fort Macleod. There was an abundance
of water, firewood and feed, so their home
became the favorite stopping place for adven-
turous traders and plainsmen.

On the evening of October 13, 1874 the Wat-
sons watched, likely with mixed feelings, as the
cavalcade of 150 uniformed men with arms and
supplies approached from the Slide Out area to
the southeast. The Watsons could be forgiven
their ambivalence, had it been borne of relief
that they were to have protection or a little ap-
prehension because they would no longer have
the freedom to trade at will. They probably were
not whisky traders, or Jerry Potts, who knew the
area, would surely have informed Colonel
Macleod. The guide and interpreter brought the
weary, bedraggled, North West Mounted Police
troops to their first home in the West. They ar-
rived none too soon. Winter was approaching and
some kind of hurried preparation was necessary.
Under the direction of Sub-Inspector Thomas R.
Jackson, an artillery officer and engineer,
twelve-foot logs were placed upright in three-foot
trenches and plastered with mud to form the out-
side walls of the fort. Sod roofs and dirt floors
would have to do. The square, 200 feet across,
enclosed a hospital, stables, living quarters,
stores, kitchen and blacksmith shop. It was built
pretty much in that order, since the sick men and
the horses had priority. Fireplaces and
chimneys were constructed of stone. Building
supplies were plentiful though crude. D. W.
Davis, a trader from Fort Whoop-Up, assisted.
Davis then set about building the first I.G. Baker
store. It was a branch of the Fort Benton Trading
Post, that had already replenished the force's
dwindling supplies.

Official reports indicate that the men didn't
complain, but it is more likely they were just
careful to whom they voiced their opinions. They
must have been quite despondent at times. Their
entire term in the force had been marked by
hardship, deprivation and disappointment. A
trip more than 800 miles, under almost un-
bearable circumstances, had been endured.
They had lost their way because of faulty maps
and inadequate guides, the promise of excite-
ment and adventure at Fort Whoop-Up had been
anticlimactic and now they faced a winter not
knowing how severe it might be. Letters home
told the bad as well as the good. They may have
been willing and able but it took more than just
stamina in mid-October putting a mud plaster on
with bare hands. One chap wrote, "With
everyone engaged, the Fort was soon finished.
Plastering in low temperatures with clay
softened with hot water and put on by hand was
frigid work." The roof was finished with sod
ripped from the frosty ground. It was not until
1876, when the first sawmill was established, that
there were plank floors. The troops and officers,
at their own expense, improvised. Colonel Steele
reports lining the walls with factory cotton to
keep out the dust and allow a touch of neatness. A
letter from William Parker, Reg No. 252, to his
father in October, 1876 details his impression.
"This is the worst Fort I have been to yet, for
comfort. The buildings are miserable, mud
floors and mud roofs, so that when it rains there
is a devil of a mess." In the summer of 1877, dur-
ing a rainstorm, a trickle of water ran across the
floor of the commissioner's hut. Macleod
remarked that it was following an old buffalo
track. "We may be the only family in Canada
that has one", he said.

But, the area was blessed with Chinooks. Ac-
cording to Colonel Sam Steele, the Chinooks
"eased their labour." William Parker, in June,
1877, noted, The country is looking beautiful, in
fact, it is a second Emerald Isle, it is so green.
The Prairies are a mass of flowers that smell
delicious when I take my evening walk. The bush
here is full of wild gooseberries and
strawberries."

The force came to this place, with its misery
and its beauty, as a result of the Mounted Police
Act of May, 1873. An incident at the Cypress Hills
that year spurred Parliament to press the
measure with some expediency. According to
The North West Mounted Police, a book by J. P.
Turner, Edward McKay of Fort Qu'Appelle
reported back east on the incident: "In the first
part of May there was a party of Crees and
Saulteaux Indians started from the south branch
of the Saskatchewan to steal horses from the
Blackfoot who were living in the Missouri dis-
trict. By mistake they took some American
horses. A party of Americans was immediately
organized, and went on the trail of their horses.
They came to the Cypress Hills where they were
met by some of their countrymen selling liquor
to the Assiniboines.

They camped there all night, the Indians be-
ing made drunk by the traders, were noisy and
troublesome . They ( the horse hunters ) being
enraged at the loss of their horses, and en-
couraged by the traders to help them, fell on the
unprepared Indians and killed 22 men, women
and children, besides burning all their effects
and killing their animals.

The reason why I write you this is to see if
nothing can be done to put law in force there."

Two days after the Mounted Police Act was
put into force, on November 1, 1873, the enlist-
ment of recruits began. They had to be compe-
tent horsemen, of good character, between the
ages of 18 and 40 years. They signed up for three
years and agreed not to leave the force without
three months' written notice to the com-
missioner once their terms were expired. The
RCMP Quarterly notes that among the first 150
recruits, 46 were clerks, 39 had trades, nine were
professional soldiers, nine were farmers, four
telegraph operators and two sailors. The others
included professors, planters, gardeners,
students, lumbermen, surveyors, and one
bartender.

The force's trip west is well-documented. It
could just as easily have ended at Fort Whoop-
Up, had Colonel Macleod's offer of $10,000 to buy
the fort been accepted. It was reportedly refused
because, after all, the cost to build it was $25,000.
Even that price would have been a bargain,
however. The fort at Macleod cost the govern-
ment $30,000.

The first police work, about two weeks after
their arrival at Fort Macleod, was the arrest of
whisky traders at Pine Coulee about 40 miles
north. If trouble was expected with the large pop-
ulation of Indians, it didn't materialize. Credit
goes to both Indians and police. If the police had
been more aggressive, if they had not taken time
to sit down with the chiefs, the tribes would have
had no trouble wiping out the Red Coats. Sir
Cecil Denny writes in his book Riders Of The
Plains, "The Indians by this time had got over
their fear of us, many councils being held. They
were told the reason for our coming, and were
glad to have whisky abolished. Large camps of
many hundred Blackfoot, Bloods and Peigans
near us are on very friendly terms." The Indians
were instrumental in the capture of many an il-
licit trader. On December 1,1874, not two months
after his arrival, Colonel Macleod and Crowfoot,
Chief of the Blackfoot Confederacy, met and set
the stage for a fair, friendly relationship that
was enjoyed for years. Crowfoot agreed with
goodwill and dignity.

When Lieutenant-Governor David Laird
arrived at the fort before he and the force went to
the Treaty Number Seven negotiatlons at
Blackfoot Crossing, he was impressed with the
way the force handled the Indians. According to
an account in the Globe and Mail, Lt.-Gov. Laird
said: "I cannot speak too highly of the kind
manner in which the officers and men of the
mounted police at Fort Macleod treat their In-
dian visitors. Though the red man is somewhat
intrusive, I never heard a hard word employed in
asking him to retire. The beneficial effects of this
treatment, of the exclusion of intoxicants from
the country, and of impartially administering
justice to whites and Indians alike, were ap-
parent in all my interviews with the Indians.
They always spoke of the officers of the police in
the highest terms, and of the commander of the
force, Lieutenant-Colonel Macleod, especially as
their great benefactor."

The Lieutenant-governor had been met a few
miles outside of the fort and escorted in by a
large party of the force. "The men, whose horses
were in excellent condition, looked exceedingly
well and the officers performed their duties in a
most efficient manner. The villagers presented
me with an address of welcome, and altogether
my reception at Fort Macleod was such as to
satisfy the most fastidious lover of display, and
more than enough to satisfy the writer."

However, Father Lacombe was not too com-
plimentary of the force, nor of Fort Macleod in
general. He was at the town often and spent the
winter of 1882 there working on his Blackfoot dic-
tionary. Katherine Hughes, in her book Father
Lacombe, the Black Robe Voyageur, wrote: "At
Fort Macleod, where he located the head-
quarters of the mission, Father Lacombe found
only a bleak police post whose constabulary
found their spice in life lay in exciting chases of
whisky smugglers and cattle rustlers."

However, the police were involved with more
than the "whisky smugglers and cattle
rustlers." The arrival of settlers, ranchers and
railroads made their duties quite complex. Not
only did they do their own carpentry, painting,
tailoring, blacksmithing and most of their
freighting, ploughing, gardening, haying, repair-
ing of wagons and harness, but they acted as
firefighters, customs and quarantine officers,
jailers and keepers of the insane. The jails were
not yet adequate so the prisoners had to be taken
back to Winnipeg. For years, the insane had to be
escorted to Brandon, Manitoba. The constable
responsible was expected to obtain a receipt for
safe delivery of the "lunatic."

There seems to have been an endless amount
expected of this young force. Adding to the list,
an 1879 member wrote, "We act as magistrates,
sheriffs, constables, postmasters, undertakers,
issuers of licences, we marry people and bury
them. We act as health inspectors and weather
bureau officials, Indian Treaty makers and
above all, diplomats."

All this responsibility was handled well con-
sidering the amount of training they had. Drill
and equitation were a part of the military, but
they needed more than that to support them
while they were on patrol. July, 1875, Com-
missioner French, realizing the dilemma of the
men with uniforms in tatters and needing com-
plete self reliance out on patrol or stationed at a
sub-post, issued a general statement that "stand-
ing orders for the guidance of officers, con-
stables and sub-constables will soon be posted."
Understanding the lack of initial training, he
posted the following memos: "Members of the
Force, for their own sake as well as that of their
friends, should be careful in giving advice about
matters of which they are ignorant." Also, "The
Assistant Commissioner directs that the dress
and appearance as well as the demeanor of the
men of the Force should on all occasions and in
all situations be such as to create respect for the
Corps they belong to. He would like to see the
men, if possible, properly dressed when they go
beyond the precincts of the Fort." There must
have been the occasional consternation. There
wasn't a book of rules to which they could refer.
Colonel Macleod, himself a lawyer, was the
guiding force around Fort Macleod. He had
observed the problems of the United States
Militia and was determined that Canadian policy
would avoid the same disaster. It was a simple
philosophy: where others had lied, his men
would tell the truth; his men would be humane
and incorruptible. The Indians may have mis-
interpreted this at first, but in the end,
recognized its advantage.

Many systems of training were used until
1882, when headquarters were moved to Regina
and a regular school was established. Before
this, a basic training was given in an effort to
"weed out the deadwood" before the government
went to the expense of sending the men west.
This action cut down on the number of deser-
tions. No longer could one join the NWMP, have
his transportation provided and then desert. But
the administration was continually forced to
change the rules of discipline. It was years
before desertions ceased. The proximity of the
border, south of which was the promise of better
pay, was a great attraction. However, those who
stayed formed the core of a much-respected
police force. The blame for discipline problems
could not be laid to the poor character of the
men. The work was hard and usually lacked
adventure. The pay was poor and seldom on
time. The men could charge their needs at the
local store, but with interest rates as high as 24
per cent, the recruits became hostile. At one
point, Colonel Macleod wired his superiors that
the men were near mutiny. Only then was he
allowed to withdraw their back pay from a
Helena bank.

Perhaps it was at this time that the troops
started calling their pay "menial stipend", just
75 cents a day, for long days. It changed very little
tle over the years. By 1909, it was 60 cents for
sub-constables. In 1918, when Charles Edgar
joined, it was $1 and by 1923, when Paul Dersch
enlisted, it had jumped to $2.

On the other hand, there were enticements. In
1873, each recruit was promised 60 acres of land
after three years of continuous service. Their
choice of land was granted when it was certified
by the commissioner that the member's conduct
was satisfactory and that he had performed his
duties efficiently. The land grant was renewed
once more in November, 1876. As further induce-
ment to those due to re-enlist, $40 cash, a second
land grant and three months furlough were
offered. And despite reports of lack of adven-
ture, the force was gaining reputation for its es-
prit de corp.

Liquor played a large part in their careers.
The formation of the force was primarily to
stamp out whisky trading. It succeeded to some
extent; the trade did become more controlled.
But members of the force sometimes faced the
contradiction of enjoying a drink on the one
hand, and being called on to stamp out this "foul
malady" on the other. When whisky traders of
the 1800s and rum runners of the 1900s were ap-
prehended, the confiscated goods had to be
destroyed. There were times, though, when it
wasn't all thrown out. This required disciplinary
action which led to discontent, not only among
the members, but the public as well. Colonel
Steele, in his book Forty Years In Canada, wrote,
"We had the detestable, prohibitory law to en-
force, an insult to free people. Our powers were
so great, in fact so outrageous, that no self-
respecting member of the corps, unless directly
ordered, cared to exert them to full entent. We
were expected, on the slightest grounds of suspi-
cion, to enter any habitation without a warrant,
at any hour day or night, and search for in-
toxicants; no privacy was respected. Yet owing
to the pressure of a lot of fanatics who neither
knew nor cared to understand the situation,
parliament would not repeal the law and let the
white people speak for themselves. This state of
affairs continued for some years, despite the fact
that the judges quashed nearly every conviction
which was brought before them on appeal,"
about 1885. In the 1900s their powers were
modified. The situation was the same, but now
the public repeatedly voted for prohibition.

But, all was not discordant. Life in the
barracks had its lighter moments. In the West,
far from family and friends, the men depended
on their own incentive to provide entertainment.
Their first Christmas could not have been
topped. Huge roasts of buffalo, haunches of
venison, saddles of antelope, plum puddings,
cakes, canned fruit and steaming vessels of tea
and coffee were on the menus. The officers had
turkey, a delicacy brought in from Fort Benton
by Inspector Walsh. Some reports discreetly say
that festivities were complete with toasts. A
dance followed, with half-breed girls the troops'
partners.

Sir Cecil Denny wrote in The Law Marches
West, "Fiddles, harmonicas and voices joined in
light-hearted celebration, nature's debutants
vied for indulgence, high boots and beaded moc-
casins swept the hard earth floors, and in reel
and jig the extremes of life were forgotten amid
an unburdening of frontier mirth. Draped in
decorations above the messroom door, hung the
prophetic motto, a portrayal of simple faith, 'The
Pioneers Of A Glorious Future."'

In later years when there were more women
in the district, everyone was invited to the Police
Ball. On such occasions, the women slept in the
barracks and men slept outdoors. Revelry lasted
well into the night so a roaring bonfire was suf-
ficient for their comfort.

Only the officers were allowed to marry at
first and it wasn't until 1876 that the first of the
wives arrived. Marriage was discouraged among
the ranks, mainly because the outposts were so
far apart. A man with a family wasn't, according
to policy makers, free to be sent to out-of-the
way places. Wives were a "mill stone around
their neck defeating the efforts to police the
North West Territories." No married men were
engaged for service, but there is no evidence that
they were prohibited from marrying after their
enlistment. However, their isolation limited
their opportunities. Two men sent for their eligi-
ble sisters, each expecting to gain the favor of
their friend's sister. But the girls had other
plans. The scheming friends were thwarted.

Miss Horne married an English lawyer and
Miss Ryan a NWMP surgeon, L. G. de Veber.
This was the exception, though. Many wives
came and adapted to the rugged life with an ap-
titude that shamed the administrators. They
became an asset, more often than not acting as a
second man on detachment. This trend has con-
tinued for most of the force's existence, especial-
lv in small communities and isolated posts.

The first ladies set a pattern for the years to
come, although the part the NWMP wives played
in settling Fort Macleod is poorly recorded.
Mary Macleod, wife of Commissioner Macleod,
arrived in the summer of 1877. She made her
home in the cabin that had been the Officers'
Mess. Mary, as the book Red Serge Wives
records, had met her husband in 1870 at the age
of 17. They were not married until 1876 when the
commissioner was making the rounds of his new
command, the North West Territories. The new
bride travelled with her husband all that winter.
Unlike so many who came west to marry, she
had been raised in Manitoba and was somewhat
prepared for the hardships she faced.

Mrs. Macleod, with other wives, was the driv-
ing force behind all forms of entertainment.
Dance clubs and drama clubs were formed and
concerts organized.

Fort Macleod served as headquarters of the
force from 1876 to 1878 when they were moved to
Fort Walsh. A large contingent, 'C' Division,
remained in this area: 'C' was replaced by 'D'
and 'H' in 1886. These divisions remained for
some time, but eventually 'H' relocated and 'D'
stayed in Fort Macleod until 1919. A reserve
squadron 'M' under Inspector Townsend then
took over. Division headquarters was moved to
'K', with offices in Lethbridge. This reduction in
status caused considerable consternation, as il-
lustrated, in the speech made by Mayor D. J.
Grier (ex-NWMP) at the farewell banquet.

The night of the party, an electric storm came
up, lightning struck and splintered the flag pole-
it seemed symbolic. D. J., of Irish descent and
nature said, and not in jest, "The Gods of For-
tune are angry." This was perhaps the last social
function connected with the RCMP, of any
magnitude, until the Jubilee in 1924.

The number of policemen stationed in Fort
Macleod varied according to the need in the dis-
trict and the strength of the force. The district
covered by the Macleod Division varied as well.
At one time, it covered an area from the Cypress
Hills to the Rocky Mountains and beyond, and
from the Bow River to the United States border.
There doesn't seem to be any period of time that
it stabilized. The strength at any given time was
considered below requirements.

Fort Macleod remained headquarters of 'D'
Division until early in 1919 when it became a sub-
division of 'K' Division, which at that time con-
trolled the southern Alberta district and had its
headquarters in Lethbridge. From late 1919 until
1922, 'M' Division (a reserve squadron) occupied
the Macleod post. When this division was
abolished in 1922, the old historic post was closed
leaving one non-commissioned officer and one
constable .

Most of the police property and buildings
were turned over to the department of the
Interior in 1929 and the remainder, one house and
one stable, finally vacated by the detachment
members on June 1, 1933, when quarters were
rented in town from C. O. Edlund on 17th Street
West. New quarters were obtained in the
federally-owned Customs Building in August,
1933.

The large parade grounds and the well-kept
buildings established in 1884 were to fall into
gradual ruin. Some were purchased by farmers
and ranchers of the district while others were
moved to locations in town.

The force not only facilitated settlement, but
itself contributed many permanent settlers.
Many descendants of the early North West
Mounted Police and Royal North West Mounted
Police (1904 to 1920) remain in the Fort Macleod
area. The following list is of those on the force
who retired and settled here before 1924:

Alex Alexander
James MacDonald
D. Alison
J. F. Macleod
John B. Allan
R. G. Mathews
William Armer
Ed Maunsell
Ernie Bass
George Maunsell
Belcher
W. H. McDougall
James Bell
McKernan
Leo Bourassa
William H. Metzler
William Bryan
John Moore
E. J. Camies
F. G. Moses
R. G. Charlton
Tom Mudiman
H. G. Christianson
Robert O'Neilly
G. Clarke
Fred Pace
Tom Clarke
William Parker
William H. Cox
Robert Patterson
D. J. Cummings
Jerry Potts
Percy Cutting
Fred Rhodes
James Daley
Joe
Cecil Denny
J. K. Ridley
Harry Dowson
Charlie Ryan
E. Tom Drinkwater
J. M. Shaver
Charles Edgar
William Shields
Dan Fraser
A. Shurtliffe
Michael Gallagher
Tom Stockton
J. A. Grant
John Stuttaford
John W. Gray
Tetu
David J. Grier
P. J. Thomas
Ernest Haug
Cecil Toombs
Sam Heap
Howard Townsend
John Herron
R. N. Wilson
Christopher Hilliard
William Winder
Hough
C. E. D. Wood
.Tames S. Lambert
F. Wright

Return Miscellaneous Histories