Dakota Diary 15 - Mrs Dunn and Dr Porter

Tuesday dawned.

We hadn’t anything specific planned for our day, but we had two notes in our pigeon hole when we got up - one asking us to lunch with Mrs. Dunn and the other inviting us out to dinner that evening at the Pioneer Hotel with Dr. Porter and his wife. We had no idea who they were, but we penned a quick reply to say would we like that very much.

“I wonder if Mr. Stoyall has had words with the Dunns already,” I said. We had to admit that we were both nervous about this visit. We were fairly sure that they had received a bag containing our father’s
belongings after the war, but Mr. Dunn had denied it. So how do we tell his wife we think he is a liar?

We arrived at about 11.30. The Dunns live above the chemist shop. Mrs. Dunn was playing with Fannie when we arrived. Fannie was about 7 or 8, we thought.

“Come in girls,” she said. “It is so nice to meet you. You both seem to have your dad's eyes, you particularly,” she said, pointing to me, “that dark penetrating look that he had. I was a good friend of your father's. Both John and I were. We all met at about the same time back in 1871 iBrainerd.”

We made polite chat for awhile, and played a silly game with Fannie. Mrs. Dunn, who said to call her Christine, is not much older than we are. Figuring back, she must have been only 17 or so when she first knew Pa, and  married John and moved to Bismarck.

After lunch, which was sandwiches and salad, Christine started talking about what we had hoped she would.

“I’m sorry if we got off on a bad track. John told me that you came in the shop on your first day in town and asked about your dad’s things, and he said he couldn’t remember what happened to them. You must have been wondering what it was all about. But I can tell you - that we did have a case with your dad’s things in. There wasn’t much - a shirt - a couple pairs of socks - nothing of any value. We didn’t know where you lived, and although John says that your grandma wrote to him, we never got the letter. After a year or so, we thought it was silly to keep on hanging on to the stuff and we gave it to a charity at church that gives things to needy Indians. I hope you don’t mind. John was embarrassed to admit that we gave the stuff away.”

“No, of course, we don’t mind,” Cora Sue said, “and thank you for telling us about it.”

“And of course, we were very fond of Mark. I told you we both knew him when he was working in Brainard - and we moved here in the November of 71 - and then, he moved down in the spring of 72 - and being the only people he knew in the area, of course, he spent a lot of time with us.

“He ate his last meal in Bismarck at our house. I can remember what we had. It was on the 17th of
May - and we had beef steak dinner served with mashed potatoes, peas, turnips, and oxtail soup with crackers, home made apple pie with cheese and with home made ice cream.”

“Gosh, how can you remember all those details after all this time?”

“Well it was a lavish meal, much more than we usually would have had, but we wanted it to be special for our last meal with Mark before he went. We worried a lot about his going. I think we were more aware of the possible consequences than he was. Anyway, we know that his last memory of Bismarck was a happy one. We had a great time that night.”

When it was time to go, we thanked her for being so frank with us.

“Don’t worry about having lied about the suitcase before. We truly understand how you must have felt. It’s not like it was something we could have used.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I’m glad we got that all cleared up,” she said.

And then we said good bye and left.

On the way back to our hotel Cora Sue said, “Do you believe her?”

“No.”
“Neither do I.”

“But I don’t see how we can force her to give up our dad’s socks and shirt. If it means so much to her, maybe it's best that she keep it. I would just have liked to have seen it, though. If only she had
said, 'Yes I do have it and would like to keep it - would that be okay with you?'  We would have at least shared it with her. She obviously cared a lot about him - and to be truthful, she knew him a
lot better than we did. Maybe she loved him - no - not maybe, I'm sure she did love him. But maybe it was as a brother or friend, maybe not - but whatever, she obviously feels that she has more of a right to his possessions than we do.”

“Maybe she's right.”

“He didn’t leave his shares in the coal mine or the stake in the gold field to her.”

“Well, hopefully, we'll find out more about that on Friday.”

And now we had to look forward to our meal out with the Porters. I told George at the desk that we had been asked out by them to the Sheridan House Hotel and asked what he knew about Dr. Porter. He said, “Well, he's called Henry, and she's called Lottie. They are very nice people and have been part of the town for a long time. He was one of the doctors who went with General Custer, but, of course, he came back. And now he's on his way to being a very big businessman in Bismarck.
They own lots of buildings and if I'm not wrong, I rather think they own the place you're having your meal tonight.”

Luckily, when we arrived at the Hotel, prompt on 6 p.m. as instructed, a man and woman were waiting by the front desk. I went up and said we were to meet with Dr. Porter, (pictured above)  and he said, “Ah, you’ve found us, and we have found you. Welcome to Bismarck,” and he swept us each into his arms and gave us a big hug.

What a surprise! This man was not only welcoming, but seemed truly delighted to meet us, and perhaps didn’t have anything to hide.

We were shown into the dining room, and ordered our meal, while we engaged in small talk with Harry and Lottie, as they asked us to call them. But after our meal had arrived, Dr. Porter said that he wanted to tell us a bit more of what he knew about our dad.

“I would be lying if I said that I knew him well before we went to the Little Bighorn. And even while we were there, our paths didn’t cross very often. But people said good things about him. Everyone
seemed to know who he was, and really felt interested in talking to him about how they felt and what they'd done that day.

“Even the Indian scouts were fond of him. Do you know what they called him?”

“No,” we said astonished that they would have called him anything.

“They called him 'Man who makes the Paper Talk.' They were so impressed that his scribblings should enable others to know what he was thinking. What he said in his last message - I’m sure you know which one I mean - 'I go with Custer to the death.' - was translated for the scouts and they were very shaken by it - and felt it was very inappropriate language for going into battle. And I guess they were right.”

“I think Captain Marsh told us that you came back on the boat with the injured men.”

“Yes, that was my job, and it was also my job to make note of how each of the fallen men had died, and to make sure that they were buried properly. I saw your dad. He had an arrow in his side. And although the Indians had taken off his ear, they left him pretty much alone apart from that. His haversack had been torn open, and all the notes that he had written were scattered around. I picked them up and brought them back.”

“Who did you give them to?”

“To Colonel Lounsberry. He used the information in them in writing his report about what happened. It was in those notes that he'd written those words of being with Custer at the end.”

“And where did they bury him?”

“Close by where he fell - about 15 yards or so from the river. It wouldn’t have been possible to transport him over to where Custer and his men were buried. It was important to get him buried quickly. I’m sure you understand.”

“We do,” I said, barely able to fight back the tears because I knew what he was saying was that our Pa’s body was decomposing fast in the hot weather.

“So what are you doing now, Dr. Porter? Doesn’t taking care of the sick of Bismarck seem kind of tame after all that excitement?” asked Cora Sue.

“Well everybody here still treats me as a war hero - a local celebrity - so I couldn’t forget about it if I tried. And I have my little business deals, for instance I established the First National Bank, and Asa Fisher, who is the manager there, and I have gone together and invested in property suitable for home lots. This town is going to grow, and grow fast, now that the railway is through and we are the capitol of Dakota Territory. And as far as excitement goes, I no doubt get a bit of that when I tend to the destitute, prisoners and insane.”

“And did you know Sitting Bull?” asked Cora Sue. “Just about everybody we talk to on this trip has known something about him.”

“No, I can’t say I know him personally. But I do know some of the other Sioux. In fact, a year after that terribly tragedy, we had another situation with Indians - and that ended up with Chief Joseph, Yellow Bull, Shaved Head and Yellow Wolf being invited here, to this very restaurant by me and my friends, Colonel George Sweet and Dr. William Bentley. They had come into town, en route to their prison in Leavenworth, Kansas. I was impressed with them, but especially by Chief Joseph, with his powerful words, 'I will make war, no more, forever,' kind of made me want them to know that we weren’t all bad - and that some of us appreciated them. So we invited them to a banquet, and this is the best hotel in town, I can tell you.”

“That's what we've heard,” we said.

“Anyway we said the banquet was 'as evidence of warm feelings from the people of Bismarck.' We signed a declaration saying 'Desiring to show you our kind feelings and the admiration we have for your bravery and humanity, as exhibited in your recent conflict with the forces of the United States, we most cordially invite you to dine with us at the Sheridan House.'

“As far as what else I might do with my life, well, Lottie and I would like to travel. Maybe you might even see us in your state of Connecticut one of these days, if you’d like to invite us there.”

“We would be very pleased and honored if you came to visit us. And thank you for your information this evening. It is comforting to know that you were one of the last to see our Pa and that he was properly cared for.”

“Oh, Henry, I think you should tell the girls your story about rescuing that man in the battle.”

“Why not? I like to hear myself tell it. It was a pretty exciting experience for a doctor. The most dramatic part came as Reno's command to retreat, including me, began the panicky scramble back across the Little Bighorn River and up to defensible high ground, after the Indians have overwhelmed us. I was bending over a wounded soldier, looked around and saw the withdrawal beginning. The wounded man begged me not to leave him to the tender mercies of the savages, and I was not the man to resist the appeal. Putting the soldier on my horse, I mounted, too, and also made a dash for it. An Indian gave chase, taking an occasional flying shot at me with his revolver, and was soon at my stirrup. But luck was with us and his shot went astray. A moment later we were across the river, up the hill and safe."

"Gosh that was scary," put in Cora Sue.

“You may know that I gave evidence that I had heard Terry instruct Custer not to attack until he was near at hand, and I said that Custer ignored that  did what he did to gain all the glory of the victory, which he thought sure, for himself. I got into trouble with a lot of people for saying that, but that
was what I thought, and I think maybe your Pa thought that too, from what I read of his writing before I handed it in.”

“Thank you again Dr. and Mrs. Porter for sharing those things with us. We are very pleased to have met you, and hope we will see you again before we leave.”

And with that we went home to chew over all those things he had said.