Cavalry Escorts Wagon Train - Spring 2009 Issue of Horses in Art Magazine

Cavalry Escorts Wagon Train

by Paula Griggs Lenz

The Cavalry – Acrylic, 16 x 20, by Holly Lenz.
Weary from watching westward over the playa toward the low sun, my eyes finally made out three approaching figures silhouetted against the light and obscured by dust. I could tell by the flag they bore that they were the ones I was waiting for and went out to meet them. The youth of one of the soldiers surprised me even though it was not unusual for a 14-year-old to ride with the U.S. cavalry. But young Holt Bogdanowicz was not alone, for his father, Leonard, was with him. Between them they led a riderless horse. I was soon to learn that the other rider had not yet arrived on our timeline.

Just a day before, by chance of a mystic dust storm coinciding with a drive along the historical California Trail, my horse, Broso and I had passed through a symbolic time warp to 1850 and were soon a part of a pioneer wagon train. Wagon Master Bill Adams and hostess Kathy Davis had offered this lone woman and her horse refuge with their train, which was on the brink of one of the most frightful journeys recorded in history — Nevada’s Forty Mile Desert.

Our unprotected train of mule and horse drawn wagons with a few outriders would henceforth be escorted by members of Company D of the Nevada Territorial Volunteer Cavalry. Five other soldiers, including Richard Lee, who is Chief of Cavalry, bugler, and poet, also joined us. As evening settled, and all the campfire talk quieted and candles were lit, the sound of taps was very beautiful. Each soldier in turn stood guard, and Richard Lee told me that during his watch he felt like he was at sea, remote, alone, and in the middle of a vastness under a starlit sky. Here centuries stand still, for the night sounds of the desert have not changed. Lee said, “I grew accustomed to the stirring of the stock on the picket lines and then heard a kind of ‘choo choo’ sound. ‘What was that?’ I asked myself. It sounded like a steam locomotive, but that did not belong here. ‘Choo Choo,’ I listened harder and looked into the darkness. There, two eyes of a coyote looked back at me and he was panting nervously.”

Spare Horse – Acrylic, 16 x 20, by Holly Lenz.

The next morning reveille awakened the late snoozers and cheered on the early risers who had already begun tending to the animals. The smell of fresh brewed coffee was soon wafting on the gentle breeze, and the command, “Feed the picket line!” brought the happy response to the now rested and again hungry animals. After breakfast for man, woman, and beast was over, the train reassembled for the third day. With the cavalry the number of outriders doubled, and we now had an authentic fully equipped and uniformed escort. They were picturesque and really perfect for this day, because it was the only time during our journey when we passed along the modern Highway 95, which for a few miles follows the original route of the California Trail. The sight of the flag-bearing company riding in formation and the handsomely equipped wagons with gorgeous teams and passengers in pioneer dress must have impressed those whose hearts opened up to the shift in centuries. These sensitive people, though auto-bound, slowed down to wave. Others, however, were so entrenched in their own moment that they could not see through the time barrier.

Being an outrider like the soldiers, and because Broso preferred the company of other saddle horses to the clatter of the wagons and the still unfamiliar mules, we soon fell in behind the military formation. I was treated to the finest nineteenth- century manners as they spoke to “the lady” with “Yes, ma’am” and other cordialities. I was very interested in their talk of the battles they had been in, but my favorite part was when they began to sing. What a rousing chorus they made! They knew all the words to more verses than I knew existed! With the horses trotting, the flag waving, the men in uniform with swords flashing by their sides, and the songs of camaraderie filling the air, I cherished that moment in time. It was one of those magical memories that I tuck away and bring back to savor again and again.

At the place where the California Trail leaves the highway, there is a concrete memorial in honor of the many pioneers who traveled by here. We, too, were making the trip in honor of those who truly passed before us. Our bugler, Richard Lee, was again called upon to play taps as the wagons and out-riders circled around. With hats off and hands on hearts, the solemn moment was given honor and dignity as Leonard Bogdanowicz read the memorial inscription.

Our reenactment group headed west away from the pavement and marks of more recent centuries and back to the tracks carved into desert by the thousands of wagons which crossed before. Again, soldiers rode in formation and the wagon train followed. That night around the campfire Richard Lee and Mike Creager told stories, recited poetry, sang songs, and acted out scenes of adventure for the entertainment and education of the other travelers. What a treat!

The men of our military escort were all members of the Nevada Civil War Volunteers, an American Civil War reenactment organization based in Northern Nevada. Their purpose is “to share and perpetuate knowledge about the War of the Rebellion, with emphasis on the Territory/State of Nevada.” They stress “accurate, authentic activities in a safe, family, oriented environment.” Their events, including battle reenactments, field encampments, living history events, memorial services, and parades, are always free. They welcome new members with or without experience. For more information about the Forty Mile Desert wagon train, phone Bill or Kathy at 775-867-3590 or 777-741-5125. They can also be reached by mail at P.O. Box 490 in Fallon, Nevada, 89407. For more information about the cavalry, email Richard Lee at rich1stNVCAV@yahoo.com

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