They reached Grand Canyon on September 21, after two weeks’ travel. From there they journeyed to the extreme west end of the lake and thence to Shoshone Lake, which they mistakenly considered the head of Madison River. Here they saw species of rare aquatic fowl, such as the whistling and trumpeter swans. Crossing the Continental Divide, which they called the “Dike,” they emerged into the Lower Geyser Basin. They made precise observations of the geysers and hot springs throughout the area and were enthusiastic over their performance. There was no lack of appreciation in this party.

On the night of October 1, three thoughtful men conversed in their Firehole River camp. William Peterson observed that it would not be long before settlers and prospectors began coming into the district and taking up the land around the geysers and canyons. Charles Cook sincerely hoped that people might have free access to the area to enjoy its beauty, while David Folsom expressed the opinion that the government should not allow anyone to locate in the vicinity.

Fifty-three years later, upon the occasion of the Park’s Golden Anniversary, observed on July 14, 1922, at Madison Junction, the matured reflection of Charles W. Cook was recorded:

None of us definitely suggested the idea of a national park. National parks were unknown then. But we knew that as soon as the wonderful character of the country was generally known outside, there would be plenty of people hurrying to get possession, unless something were done.

We all had this thought in mind when we came out a few days later, and told others what we had seen.[122]

Folsom, in particular, had a lively interest in the idea of preserving the phenomena, and he discussed the subject with H. D. Washburn, N. P. Langford, and others. Indeed, Mr. Peterson later remarked that their own astonishment was so profound that they thought surely no one would believe half of what they could tell. However, upon the solicitation of a friend, Cook and Folsom prepared a joint article from their diaries for publication. The account was rejected by The New York Tribune, Scribner’s, and Harper’s as “they had a reputation that they could not risk with such unreliable material.” Finally it appeared in the July 1870 issue of the Western Monthly of Chicago. The editors deleted the account considerably and printed an emasculated narrative. It is affirmed that among the items left out was the germ of the grand idea advocating the creation of a national park.

Much credit is due these three gentlemen for accomplishing a difficult and dangerous mission without military escort. It was purely a private venture, lasting thirty-six days, and may be considered as having been eminently successful. In fact, it was the first expedition to make a complete and authentic report of its exploration.

The Washburn-Langford-Doane Expedition

It was these articulate reports of Folsom, Cook, and Peterson that electrified the natural interest of Helena’s intellectual leadership. Thereafter, Langford and his associates were burning to effect a grand expedition and achieve conclusive results. General Phil Sheridan gave the project his blessing and the assurance of a military escort.

A congenial personnel was sifted out, consisting of Hon. Nathaniel P. Langford, Hon. Cornelius Hedges, Hon. Truman C. Everts, Hon. Samuel T. Hauser, Walter Trumbull, Benjamin Stickney, Jr., Warren C. Gillette, and Jacob Smith. James Stuart was selected as leader, but he was deprived of that privilege by jury service. Thereupon, Surveyor General Henry D. Washburn was given the honor of taking command. He was a worthy leader, having achieved the rank of Major General in the Civil War. He had also served two terms in Congress. Altogether it was a hand-picked company. The men were uniformly young and energetic, with the exception of Everts who was fifty-four. Several of them had served as Vigilantes. Indeed, they were men of intelligence, action, and high integrity. With one exception the men were serious-minded and mature. They early sensed the hazards of the endeavor and struggled manfully to reduce them to a minimum.

Elaborate preparations were made in point of equipment and provisions. Two packers, Reynolds and Bean, and two colored cooks were employed, and the whole enterprise, although private, took on a semiscientific, quasi-military character from the start. Washburn possessed a copy of the Folsom-Cook diary and a map made by Walter W. DeLacy.[123] In addition, he had numerous conversations with these men, and he was, therefore, the beneficiary of their experience. They left Helena on August 17, 1870. Four days later they were at Fort Ellis. Here they listened to the post order detailing Lieutenant Gustavus C. Doane, one sergeant, and four privates “to escort the Surveyor-General of Montana to the falls and lakes of the Yellowstone and return....” The soldiers in the party were Sergeant William Baker and Privates John Williamson, George W. McConnell, William Leipler, and Charles Moore.

There was no allusion to thermal phenomena or any exotic features whatsoever. Judge Hedges subsequently characterized the general temper of the explorers in respect to those particulars:

I think a more confirmed set of skeptics never went out into the wilderness than those who composed our party, and never was a party more completely surprised and captivated with the wonders of nature.[124]

The complete expedition now comprehended nineteen men, thirty-five horses and mules, and adequate supplies for a month’s journey. Leaving Fort Ellis, they ascended the Yellowstone River to its junction with the Gardner. This brought them within five miles of the Mammoth Hot Springs, but ignorance of the fact precluded their visitation. Instead, they crossed over the plateau and reached Tower Creek where they camped on August 27. All members were delighted with the hot springs and fumaroles in that area.

Around the campfire they evolved a name-giving policy and enjoyed great sport incident to its first application. They adopted a self-sacrificing resolution. Natural features should not be given the names of the present personnel or their relatives and friends. Instead, all wonders must bear the most appropriate cognomens possible. This was a noble gesture, and while it was not strictly observed one wishes that their demonic impressions might have been less vivid. Here was the Devil’s Slide; there, Hellbroth Springs; yonder, Brimstone; now, Devil’s Hoof, Den, Kitchen, and Ink Well; again, Hells Half Acre and Hell Roaring Mountain. Surely their concepts of Christian theology rendered them acutely conscious of the attributes and environment of His Satanic Majesty.

The first controversy arose over naming the falls. “What shall we name these sentinel-guarded falls?” “Minaret is the proper name,” said young Trumbull. “What’s a minaret?” queried Jake Smith. Trumbull gave a classical description of Moslem architecture and drew his analogy to this similitude. Sam Hauser objected on the ground that the name was not “fitten” in western America where there weren’t any mosques. Hence, he proposed the more expressive name “Tower.” The council deliberated, expanded, and talked big. Minaret was the most significant, had a deeper meaning, more symbolical. Therefore, General Washburn christened them “Minaret Falls.”[125]

But Sam Hauser was a politician; he later became governor of Montana. During the night he confidentially circulated the rumor that Walter Trumbull had a girl friend by the name of Minnie Rhett. Trumbull denied the statement, said it was a canard, a roarback, a plain lie! However, the seed of doubt had been sown, and at breakfast Hauser’s point was won. The name was Tower Falls. Later it transpired that the future governor’s girl friend was a Miss Tower! Surely there was genuine political statesmanship in this party, and its genius was clearly manifest before the journey’s end.

The party skirted Mount Washburn on the twenty-ninth and spontaneously named it for their honored leader, because he was the first to climb its summit. Said Washburn, “I saw the canyon and the lake. There are unmistakable columns of steam in the distance. This is a glorious region.” Whereupon the entire party hustled upward, frightening the resentful bighorn en route. Upon reaching the summit silence prevailed while these subdued men paid unconscious tribute to the Powers That Be. Standing there upon a natural observatory, they looked down upon the whole grand panorama, as does yonder eagle. Their vision darted a hundred miles southward, where the Tetons glittered like purple icebergs. Then nearer they beheld Lake Titicaca’s only rival, shimmering in the sun. Lake Yellowstone’s deeply sinuous shores, scattered islands, and fingerlike peninsulas gave it a mystic character. Now their gaze followed the Yellowstone River crooking away from the lake and then whirling toward them flashing in its canyon cameo until it seemed to be biting at their very feet. From this central apex the whole mountain-girt plateau conformed to the shape of a mammoth saucer as its distant rim merged with the sky.

Another day found them standing on the brink of an imprisoned river’s chasm, enchanted by the ponderous roaring of the awful force below. So vast were the canyon’s alternating gulfs and monoliths that lofty pines “dwindle to shrubs in the dizziness of distance!” Bald eagles far below screamed in angry protest upon this invasion of their secret eyries. Fishhawks hovered cautiously above, less fearful of new dangers than old. Nineteen lonely men stood amazed by an environment at once both grand and gloomy, mellow and terrible, an “empire of shadows and turmoil.”[126]

Then the sun came out and the whole gorge flamed! They beheld the marvelously variegated volcanic coloring as vivid and broken as the field of a kaleidoscope. It was as though rainbows had fallen from the sky and draped themselves like glorious banners upon the chasm below. How did it all come about?

All nature’s forces conspired to build this temple to her glory. The smooth, sharp tongue of glacial ice first plowed the great furrow deep into the bosom of the earth. Volcanic fires subdued the rigid hardness of the riven rock. Steam from boiling springs tempered to plastic yielding the surface of massive stone. And wind and water came with all their energies and skill to carve and sculpture it to befitting shapes. The air brought all its magic alchemy to bear upon the ingredients of the rock to call thence the gorgeous pigments for its coloring.[127]

Truly, here was a noble river, vibrating like a bundle of quivering electric wires a mile below, yet notching the centuries, revealing a record of geological time, and disclosing to men how God writes history. It was a canyon full of interest even to the most casual observer in the group. External senses were all appropriately appealed to. Indeed, the hidden recesses of the inner self were reached and stirred by the wild beauty and mystery of the scene. The world would surely want to visit such a place.

As they reluctantly journeyed along the river toward the lake, their ears were assailed by a series of resounding thuds. The source was the combined agitations of Mud Volcano and Dragons Mouth. These frightful vents reminded them of two vicious, frothing animals chained in cavernous lairs. There they spewed their foul compounds, as in terrible rage, growling and groaning in their perpetual regurgitations. It was one of the fascinating, if loathsome, sights in the Park.

Later there was Yellowstone Lake, nestled serenely against its buttress-based, snow-capped mountain guardians. Many people have been made happy by its sparkling water. One capable writer has left his impression:

From a gentle headland, at last we overlooked the lake. It was like the fairest dream which ever came to bless the slumbers of a child. How still it was! What silence reigned! How lovingly it laid its hush upon you![128]

It was the Washburn party that fancied a resemblance between the lake and the human hand. Concerning this analogy Professor R. W. Raymond made an amusing observation:

The gentleman who first discovered this resemblance must have thought the size and form of fingers quite insignificant, provided the number was complete. The hand in question is afflicted with Elephantiasis in the thumb, dropsy in the little finger, hornet bites on the third finger, and the last stages of starvation in the other two.[129]

What a struggle they had in threading their way through fir and lodgepole forests east of the lake. The tanglewood was nearly impenetrable; no trails to guide them except the dim and devious ways of wild animals, “through which we toiled and swore our way, coming out after several days tattered and torn, ragged, bleeding and sullen.”[130] In this welter it was every man for himself after the general course had been determined. It was this circumstance that eventuated in the painful despair of Truman C. Everts.

Lost in the Wilderness

In Yellowstone even now the wilderness is almost within rifle-shot of the Grand Loop highway. Furthermore, the area’s conformation to a vast plateau renders it relatively deficient in accessible landmarks. Hedges and Stickney were inadvertently separated from the party on September 8, but they stumbled upon the camp by nightfall. The very next day Mr. Everts unintentionally drifted away from his associates. By evening he was laboriously embroiled in the forest labyrinth southeast of Lake Yellowstone. Unconcerned the first night, he made himself comfortable, fully assured of an early reunion the next day. From this point on, a chronicle of his experience reveals a record of astonishing incompetency and carelessness on his part. It is amazing that he escaped fatal consequences.

Up bright and early he was retracing the trail; dismounting to survey an engulfing situation, he left his horse untied, and it bolted. Upon its disappearing back was his entire outfit. In his excitement Everts then lost his spectacles, a grievous loss because he was nearsighted. Later on he also lost two knives and one of his shoes. The most valuable article on his person was his field glass. It saved his life.

Another day passed; complacence now turned to frenzy, and Everts fairly ran in circles. His voice gave out; his head whirled. The pangs of hunger were extremely severe, and the close of the second day found him in tears. A cold, dark night added terrors of its own. There were howling coyotes and roaring lions—whether real or fancied made little difference to a timid man.

Still, he reasoned upon his problem and resolved to fight his way through. In his ill-conceived exertions he came upon a beautiful little lake. He named it Bessie for his daughter. On its banks were several hot springs and numerous patches of elk thistles. In an agony of hunger he tasted a root; it was edible, better still when cooked in the boiling water. Then a storm came up. It whipped him both in body and mind. He became lethargic, satisfied to chew thistle roots and bake his backside on warm spring incrustations. Seven days Everts hovered over this location. This indecision on his part put him completely out of reach of salvation by the Washburn party.

Then the skies cleared; the sun glistened upon the water. Its reflection flashed an idea into his mind. “My opera glasses—fire from heaven!” Oh, happy, hope-renewing thought! It worked; he made a fire. With new purpose he bestirred himself; he would make a break, but which way should he go? South to Snake River? Yes, there were frontiersmen in Idaho. After many miles of painful toil among the intricacies of hill and vale his faith weakened. The goal—a notch in the mountain barrier—seemed to recede as if in mockery of his feeble efforts.[131]

“I’ll go west into the Madison Valley—that’s shorter.” So he stumbled off in that direction. A precipitous escarpment obstructed his path; there was no pass. The distraught pilgrim lighted a fire. It got out of control; he fled from its awful devastation. In utter exhaustion he sat down to rest; whereupon, he experienced an hallucination. An old clerical friend seemed to be standing before him. He seemed to say, “Go back immediately, as rapidly as your strength will permit. There is no food here, and the idea of scaling these rocks is madness.” Amid serious misgivings Everts decided to retrace the course of ingress. His heart nearly failed him as he envisioned the unending panorama of the Yellowstone River trail. Final resolution was helpful, and he trudged on by day, rested by night, and gnawed on “Everts” thistle betimes.

For two long weeks the party camped along the southwest shore of the lake. From this base position they daily sent out searching details, lighted signal fires, shot guns, posted notices, and cached food. No clues were found, and the time was far spent. They regretfully concluded that their companion was either hopelessly lost or well upon his way toward home. A foot of snow had already fallen. The thirty-day rations had rendered thirty-two days’ service. In these circumstances Cornelius Hedges expressed his depression in his diary:

Had to lie in bed to keep warm, wished I was at home ... stormed all night. We are in for it. Snowed all day ... the season is in our favor, we shall make haste home as soon as the blockade raises.[132]

Therefore, they left the Thumb of the Lake and started toward Firehole Basin on September 17. They were exultant over the exploration; accurate journals were kept. It was generally felt that their observations were of great value and the exploration would be considered important. Allow Langford to describe their reactions:

Strange and interesting as are the various objects which we have met within this vast field of natural wonders, no camp or place of rest on our journey has afforded our party greater satisfaction than the one we are now occupying, which is our first camp since emerging from the dense forest. Filled with gloom at the loss of our comrade, tired, tattered, browned by exposure and reduced in flesh by our labors, we resemble more a party of organized mendicants, than of men in pursuit of Nature’s greatest novelties. But from this point we hope that our journey will be comparatively free from difficulties of travel.[133]

Having finished an assignment, they were thinking of home and their neglected affairs. Notwithstanding the grandeur of nature’s wonders in the Yellowstone Lake region they were about to get the surprise of their lives. This marvel of wonders occurred on the evening of September 18. Just as they emerged from the woods into the Upper Geyser Basin, Old Faithful was shyly preening her billowy plume, and as the vanguard shouted, “Look!” she gracefully mounted, wave upon wave, until a mighty torrent vaulted heavenward, where it unfurled like a watery flag, as if in welcome to its known immortalizers. Thus, the Fairy Queen had the honor of first saluting those weary explorers, and never since that eventful day has she failed any visitor.

In that gloryful presence Lieutenant Doane solemnly declared, “The earth affords not its equal. It is the most lovely inanimate object in existence.”[134] To General Washburn, the Giantess, when quiet, was like a hallowed fountain and in eruption, grandly magnificent, with “each broken atom shining like so many brilliants with myriads of rainbows dancing in attendance.”[135] What ecstasy! A whole kingdom of fairy spirits seemed determined to outdo each other. There ensued an orgy of thermal activity. During the short visit of twenty-two hours, twelve geysers were seen in action. It was then that their experience waxed “more and more wonderful until wonder itself became paralyzed.” In this basin they overcame the tendency to apply the wretched Satanic nomenclature so fully employed elsewhere. Instead, the names bestowed bear witness to a profound appreciation. It was for them alone that Old Faithful marked the hours by sending up “a plume of spun glass iridescent and superb, against the sky.”[136] When the Giant played, “Our whole party went wild with enthusiasm; many declared it was three hundred feet in height.” The picturesque name “Broken Horn” was then proposed; it is most descriptive and worthy of being retained. The Grotto reminded them of

... a miniature temple of alabaster whiteness, with arches leading to some interior Holy of Holies, whose sacred places may never be profaned by eye or foot.[137]

Geysers soon to become known as Giantess, Lion, Grand, Turban (or Turk’s Head), Splendid, Beehive, Fan, Castle, Rocket, and Grotto performed with unrivaled courtesy. What an array of Titans! Surely the world would also want to know about this.

And then there were the pools, the amazing springs of Yellowstone—thousands of them, all colors, a riot of aquatic pigmentation—Emerald, Sapphire, Gentian, Grand Prismatic, Rainbow, Topaz, and glamorous Morning Glory. The amazing intricacy of color-blend in the water did not then excel in beauty the surrounding border incrustations. Indeed, the most delicate embroidery could not rival them in their wonderful variety and complexity.[138]

How was such symmetry of design created? Species by the score of tiny plants called algae and diatoms thrive in hot water, temperatures ranging from approximately 100° to 170° F. These plants have the capacity to assimilate silica held in solution, and as their lives are short they build sinter formations in the same manner as coral reefs are fashioned. These algae are, therefore, active geological agents in soil building on a considerable scale.[139] However, the intricate mineral incrustations and lacy embroidery surrounding the boiling hot springs and geysers are entirely the product of deposition due to evaporation.

As the party progressed through the hierarchy of basins, Upper, Biscuit, Midway, and Lower, samples were taken and names given to many thermal features. They were leaving the Firehole region, but before an exit was made, or its spell broken, their whole experience was given a proper evaluation, and the greatest natural history idea of a millennium was born.

On the evening of September 19, the explorers were encamped at the junction of the Firehole and Gibbon rivers. The setting was an impressive one. A majestic mountain backdrop cast long shadows upon them. The silvery Madison glided away in the foreground. On center stage, red embers of a neglected fire sparked and glowed in contact with a fanning breeze.

The last scene was being enacted—the curtain was about to fall. It was an hour of recapitulation. Thrills were relived, confidences exchanged, speculations indulged. Then came the inevitable question of Yellowstone’s destiny. The question was posed, “Men and brethren, what shall we do?” “Why,” said Smith, “we’ll fence it in; give me Old Faithful.” “I’ll take the Falls,” echoed another. Serious consideration was given the idea of allowing each explorer to pre-empt a choice section in the most strategic location and pool the income for equal distribution. Whereupon, the inspired mind of Cornelius Hedges proposed and explained an idea that marked him as one of the far-sighted men of his generation. Said he:

There ought to be no private ownership of any portion of this region. Rather the whole of it should be set apart as a great National Park for all time as a reserve for the use and enjoyment of all the people. Furthermore, each and everyone of us should make every effort to have this purpose accomplished.[140]

The response was instantaneous and all but unanimous. The next day Langford wrote in his diary, “I lay awake half of last night thinking about it;—and if my wakefulness deprived my bed-fellow [Hedges] of any sleep, he has only himself and his disturbing National Park proposition to answer for it.”[141]

Within a week the Helena Daily Herald had printed the first of a series of articles on “The Yellowstone Expedition.” Washburn, Langford, Hedges, and Trumbull wrote separate accounts, all of which were in general agreement that they had seen “the most interesting country ... where are presented at once the wonders of Iceland, Italy, and South America.”

The members were banqueted and feted; specimens of petrifaction, geyserite, and other strange items were displayed. Langford gave a “Grand Lecture” to open the Helena Library Association Lecture Course.

Hedges paid glowing tribute to the memory of Truman C. Everts, thought to be deceased. Indeed, his disappearance did as much as anything else to capture the public interest. Still anxious to do everything possible in his behalf, a searching party was immediately organized and sent off. On October 15, Jack Baronett and George A. Pritchett, two well-known scouts, came upon the prostrate Everts. It was his thirty-seventh day of travail. They found him near the northern boundary of the Park, near a mountain now bearing his name. The day was raw and gusty. Against the prospect of an overcast sky he carried a firebrand in his seared hands. His weight was halved; his whole system was terribly out of order. Actually he was sinking under the conviction that death was near. According to his own report rescue came in the nick of time:

Groping along the side of the hill, I became suddenly sensible of a sharp reflection, as of burnished steel. Looking up, through half-closed eyes, two rough but kindly faces met my gaze.

“Are you Mr. Everts?”

“Yes. All that is left of him.”

“We have come for you.”

“Who sent you?”

“Judge Lawrence and other friends.”

“God bless him, and them, and you! I am saved!”[142]

Everts fell helpless into the strong arms of his preservers. They carried him to a trapper’s cabin, and there he rested after swallowing a pint of bear grease. In time his recovery was complete, and he lived to the ripe age of eighty-five. During these years he experienced much satisfaction over the contribution he had made in the discovery of Yellowstone, even at the high price of “Thirty Seven Days of Peril.”

Chapter IX
CREATION OF YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK

The return of Everts operated as a springboard for an attempt to get government action. Graphic accounts of the exploration in general filled the columns of the Helena Herald during October. An article written by Cornelius Hedges, which appeared in the issue of November 9, suggested an extension of Montana’s southern boundary to include the whole Yellowstone region. He also outlined the proposal for appropriation of the same for public purposes. An excited public interest consumed every issue. Bursting upon national attention, these highly entertaining narratives, spontaneous and vivid like tales from Arabian Nights, carried a large measure of conviction.

Nathaniel P. Langford went east to proclaim the discovery. He first announced the good news to his own people in a public meeting in Minneapolis. They gave him a responsive hearing, which encouraged him for the work ahead.[143] On January 19, 1871, a large crowd listened intently to his delineation at Lincoln Hall in New York City. The people of Washington accorded similar attention. In fact, one of the lectures was presided over by Senator James G. Blaine, and one of the most alert auditors was Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden who was soon converted to the importance of the project and agreed to conduct a government geological survey the following summer. Hayden’s leadership was an important factor in making Yellowstone a live political issue. Sam Hauser also visited Washington, D. C., and he was subsequently joined by Truman C. Everts. Henry D. Washburn started for the national Capitol, but he fell ill on the way and died at his former home in Clinton, Indiana, on January 26, 1871. Walter Trumbull was serving as clerk of the Senate Judiciary Committee, of which his father was chairman. Interesting accounts of Yellowstone’s features by Langford and Trumbull appeared in the May and June numbers of Scribner’s and the Overland Monthly. The Firehole campfire resolution was bearing fruit.

Montana’s new but able territorial representative, Hon. William H. Clagett, went assiduously to work upon the members of Congress. In his view there was a great prize to be secured for the benefit of all people and especially his constituents. A wonderland was available for the taking. As yet there were no complications of private ownership to arrest an alert government’s purpose. The Congress responded with alacrity by making provision for an official exploration. The sundry civil service act of March 3, 1871, carried an item of $40,000 for the construction of the Hayden Survey, to complete “the season’s work about the sources of the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers.” In fact, the bill also provided for a reconnaissance of the upper Yellowstone under Captain J. W. Barlow and Captain D. P. Heap of the Army Engineer Corps. Congress was not entering into the problem halfway; it was actually doubling up.[144]

The chief officer, Dr. Ferdinand V. Hayden, was an unusually capable geologist. In addition, he possessed an inspiring personality and statesmanlike views. There were nineteen scientists directly under his command. The personnel included James Stevenson, managing director; Henry W. Elliott and Thomas Moran, artists; Professor Cyrus Thomas, agricultural statistician and entomologist; Anton Schonborn, chief topographer; William H. Jackson, photographer; George B. Dixon, assistant photographer; J. W. Beaman, meteorologist; Professor G. N. Allen, botanist; Robert Adams, Jr., assistant botanist; Dr. A. C. Peale, mineralogist; Dr. C. S. Trunbull, physician; Campbell Carrington, in charge of zoological collections; William B. Logan, secretary; F. J. Huse; Chester M. Dawes, son of Representative Henry L. Dawes of Massachusetts; C. De V. Hegley and J. W. Duncan, assistants. Barlow’s army detail also had a competent and well-balanced personnel.[145]

A military escort, including Lieutenant Doane, rounded out these expeditions and provided all that could have been desired in point of training and ability. Each detachment had a retinue of helpers. Two technical studies and scientific reports, which not only substantiated but actually enhanced the findings of the previous civilian explorations, resulted from these two expeditions.

Hayden’s party left Fort Ellis, near Bozeman, on July 15, 1871. Upon reaching the junction of the Yellowstone and Gardner rivers they elected to ascend the latter. It was a good choice because within the hour they beheld a white mountain which resembled a vast cascade of frozen snow. The Mammoth Hot Springs Terraces “alone surpassed all the descriptions which had been given by former travelers.”[146]

As this expedition progressed, the geological record was interpreted. Thereafter, rocks were identified as travertine, gneiss, rhyolite, dacite, basalt, breccia, geyserite, sinter, and obsidian. Trees and plants were likewise classified, and in addition to geysers, springs and pools there were fumaroles and solfataras. Geological speculations were formulated relative to petrified forests, Grand Canyon, the lake’s former Snake River outlet, and the relationship of heat, water, and “plumbing” essential for geyser action.

Henry Elliott and Campbell Carrington launched a canvas boat and made a survey of Yellowstone Lake’s hundred-mile shoreline. Later the temperatures of over six hundred hot springs were taken. Sketches were made of many features, and significant names were given, such as Architectural Fountain Geyser. Captain Barlow’s division paid particular attention to the mapping of Snake River’s headwaters. It also made a cursory survey of the Lamar River. Unfortunately most of the data and accompanying photographs were destroyed in the great Chicago fire. This delayed Barlow’s official report until six weeks after the Park Bill was enacted. However, an interesting summary appeared in the Chicago Journal for January 13, 1872. Thus, the report and collection of specimens and photographs by Dr. Hayden represented the principal result of the season’s endeavor.[147]

The beauty of Jackson’s photographs and Moran’s paintings could scarcely be denied. Each represented the work of a master. Dr. Hayden’s report to Secretary of Interior, Columbus Delano, was received in February, 1872. He also contributed feature articles to the American Journal of Science and Arts and Scribner’s. Thus, a number of authorities had taken up the national park cause without reservation. Indeed, after he became intrigued with the idea of government development, Dr. Hayden’s efforts were so impressive that many people regarded him as the true originator of the movement. In fact, his own enthusiasm unfortunately caused him to make pretensions for which he was severely criticized by his colleagues in the effort.[148] Although Dr. Hayden’s contribution was invaluable, it was not exclusive. It was through the combined effort of the entire Montana delegation, and its powerful friends, that Congress was made receptive and responsive.

On December 18, 1871, a bill to create Yellowstone National Park was introduced simultaneously in both houses of Congress. The direct sponsors were Delegate William H. Clagett of Montana and Senator Samuel C. Pomeroy of Kansas. A thorough canvass was made; photographs, specimens, and testimonials did heavy duty in both the Senate and the House. Four hundred copies of Scribner’s containing Langford’s articles were distributed among the congressmen, and all were personally interviewed. The advocates were few, but effective, and there was never any doubt as to the outcome. In the Senate, Pomeroy’s efforts were backed by George F. Edmunds, H. B. Anthony, and Lyman Trumbull. They made an unsuccessful attempt to bring the bill, S392, to a vote on January 22 and 23, but objections were raised, and it came up in calendar order on the thirtieth. Senator Edmunds appealed for unanimous support for the bill. Senators Cameron of Pennsylvania and Morton of Indiana were curious about the number of square miles in the proposed reservation. Senator Pomeroy assured them that, although it was a large tract, there were no arable lands therein because of the elevation.

The advocates were puzzled by the opposition exhibited by Senator Cornelius Cole of California. He entertained grave doubts as to the value of the bill. Settlers should not be excluded from such a large area. As to the natural curiosities, they would remain. Edmunds replied that the region was north of 40° and about seven thousand feet elevation. Pomeroy affirmed that:

... the only object of the bill is to take early possession of it by the United States, and set it apart, so that it cannot be included in any claims or occupied by any settlers.[149]

Opposition was removed from the discussion by the forceful and tactful speech made by Senator Trumbull. He reviewed the history of Yosemite and the Big Trees in California:

I think our experience with the wonderful natural curiosity, if I may so call it, in the Senator’s own State, should admonish us of the propriety of passing such a bill as this.... Here is a region of country away up in the Rocky Mountains, where there are the most wonderful geysers on the face of the earth.... It is possible that some person may go there and plant himself right across the only path that leads to these wonders, and charge every man that passes along ... the gorges of these mountains a fee of a dollar or five dollars....

I think it is a very proper bill to pass, and now is the time to enact it.... Now, before there is any dispute as to this wonderful country, I hope we shall except it from the general disposition of the public lands, and reserve it to the Government.... At some future time, if we desire to do so, we can repeal this law, if it is in anybody’s way; but now I think it a very appropriate bill to pass.[150]

The matter was then presented for a vote, and it passed without a call for the ayes and noes.

The progress of the Park Bill, H.R. 764, through the House was just as sure, if not so speedy, as in the Senate. On February 27 Chairman Mark H. Dunnell of the Public Lands Committee brought out a favorable report. He personally was convinced by careful investigation that the bill should pass. Henry L. Dawes clearly and forcibly explained its purpose and observed that it went a step further than the Yosemite precedent. In this case “the title will still remain in the United States.... This bill treads upon no rights of the settler ... and it receives the urgent and ardent support of the legislature of that Territory [Montana], and of the Delegate himself....”[151]

The roll call on February 28, 1872, showed 115 ayes, 65 noes, and 60 not voting. George W. Morgan, the minority leader, was opposed to the bill on partisan principles in general and his personal dislike for Secretary Delano in particular. Within ten weeks the measure had passed both houses by large majorities, and on March 1, 1872, it received the signature of President Ulysses S. Grant.

Upon passage of the act the Helena Herald printed a laudatory editorial on “Our National Park,” while the Helena Rocky Mountain Gazette considered the bill “as a great blow struck at the prosperity of the towns of Bozeman and Virginia City ... if it were thrown open to a curious but comfort-loving public.” Other local papers joined the Herald’s side of the controversy.[152]

A mild national reaction was generally favorable to the reservation idea. The bill even attracted attention abroad, as evidenced by an article in the London Times, April 10, 1873, under the caption, “A Very National Park.”

Who should receive the credit for this eminent accomplishment? A careful examination of the facts warrants the conclusion that the idea of establishing Yellowstone as a public reservation had a dual birth. It was independently conceived in the minds of two men. This view is attested by the deliberate statement of N. P. Langford:

It is true that Professor Hayden joined with Mr. Clagett and myself in working for the passage of the act of dedication, but no person can divide with Cornelius Hedges and David E. Folsom the honor of originating the idea of creating the Yellowstone Park.[153]

In his Westward America, Howard R. Driggs states that the pioneer artist, George Catlin, made a similar observation about other parts of the Old West in the eighteen thirties. Surely it was Hedges’ suggestion at Madison Junction campfire that initiated the conception of a program which other men were well conditioned to execute. N. P. Langford was the enthusiast, the zealous crusader. William H. Clagett was the man at the helm, but he was ably supported by the sage advice of Henry L. Dawes, representative from Massachusetts, who probably formulated the general principles of the measure.[154] Dr. F. V. Hayden’s scientific reports and unstinted support must be weighed heavily in the scale. Senators Samuel C. Pomeroy and Lyman Trumbull gave strength to the movement. The good will of General Phil Sheridan was a constant factor. Beyond this spearhead of ability and integrity the number of contributors broadens. It was an altogether democratic effort, and little injustice results from the omission of other efforts toward the cause. Most of them would probably have had it so. It was a program for the benefit and enjoyment of all people, rather than the personal aggrandizement of a few.

The rapidity that characterized the government’s action in this matter will always stand as a tribute to the common sense and natural idealism of the Forty-second Congress. Judge Hedges’ idea had found ready acceptance as it journeyed along the legislative course. The “Dedicatory Act,” as it is now called, was a remarkably well-drawn bill, especially when it is remembered that the issues involved were not only new in America but to the entire world. It was a pioneer measure in the field of conserving natural phenomena for recreational and spiritual appreciation. John Muir has cogently expressed the significance of the endeavor:

Fortunately, almost as soon as it—the Yellowstone region—was discovered it was dedicated and set apart for the benefit of the people, a piece of legislation that shines benignly amid the common dust-and-ashes history of the public domain.[155]

The philosophy in the statement of the purpose was both unique and basic. The reservation was “dedicated and set apart as a public park or pleasuring ground for the benefit and enjoyment of the people.” Conservation was keynoted in “the preservation from injury or spoliation of all timber, mineral deposits, natural curiosities or wonders within said park and for retention in their natural condition.” There was a declaration against “the wanton destruction of fish and game—and the capture or destruction for the purpose of merchandise or profit.” Senators Anthony and Tipton wanted to strike out the last phrase so there would be no destruction of game for any purpose. Anthony said, “We do not want sportsmen going over there with their guns,” and Mr. Tipton, “... if the door is once opened I fear there will ultimately be an entire destruction of all the game in the Park.”[156] Within a score of years their fears were fully vindicated, and their wishes realized in the passage of a Protective Act on May 7, 1894.

Altogether, the Yellowstone National Park bill represents a comprehensive glance into the principle of use without abuse. Nature was to be preserved, protected, and not improved. Art could not embellish what God had wrought in Yellowstone. The Act of Dedication became the touchstone of a national conservation policy whose blessings are legion. The bill did not carry an appropriation. It appears that the program was to be implemented entirely by voluntary service. In the years that followed there was a noble devotion which burned brightly, then waned, and almost died before resuscitation came. Eventually Yellowstone administrative experience evolved a program of surpassing merit which served as an example for the whole nation in the matter of managing certain phases of natural resources.