20213. Days Past. The Prescott Courier. Monday, June 11, 1990. Lonely, forgotten grave belies captain's heroism, by Bill W. Smith (article)

Days Past The Prescott Courier Monday, June II, 1990 Lonely, forgotten grave belies captain’s heroism By Bill W. SmIth Special to the Courier Perhaps it was fitting that my res earch on old Camp Date Creek, an abandoned military post of the Ari zona Territorial Indian Wars, led me to the Prescott National Cemete ry last Memorial Day weekend. There, m grave No. 10, row D, section 2, lies the lonely and forgott en grave of Philip Dwyer, captain of the 5th Calvary, who swept across Arizona history and into legend. His grave marker bearing just name and rank seems lost among the newer stones surrounding it. Philip Dwyer was born in Ireland about 1837 and emigrated to the Uni ted States at an early age. He enlisted in the service on Aug. 21, 1858, joining the Old 2nd, which later became the 5th Cavalry. He rose to the rank of quartermaster sergeant by 1862 when he was comm issioned 2nd and 1st lieutenant, and was promoted to the rank of captain in 1866. Just a few of the many Civil War engagements Philip Dwyer particip ated in include The Battle of Bull Run, The Charge at Fairfax Court House, The Manassas, Virginia Pen insular, Antitum and the battle of Fredricksburg. He was captured near Charleston in 1864, and held as a prisoner of war for the remainder of the conflict. On Feb. 11, 1872, Capt. Dwyer arr ived at Camp Date Creek, Arizona Territory, where he commanded Company E, 5th Cavalry. Located 60 miles southwest of Prescott, and on the junction of the Prescott, Wickenburg and La Paz roads, Camp Date Creek was establ ished in 1867. The main purpose of Camp Date Creek vas to help reduce Indian att acks on wagon trains traveling the roads, by providing them with milit ary escorts. From Camp Date Creek, Capt. Dwyer headed many scouting exp editions into the Territory against marauding Indians. During the month of Aug. 1872, Capt. Dwyer was acting post comm ander, and the only commiss ioned officer left at the post, when he died of an unknown illness Aug. 29, 1872. “On the Border With Crook,” by John G. Bourke, describes the death and funeral of Capt. Dwyer. “The surroundings were most dismal and squalid; all the furnit ure in the room in which the corpse lay was two and three plain wooden chairs, the bed occupied as des cribed, and a pine table upon which stood a candlestick, with the candle melted and burned in the socket. “Dwyer had been ‘ailing’ for seve ral days, but no one could tell exa ctly what was the matter with him; and, of course, no one susp ected that one so strong and athlet ic could be in danger of death. “One of the enlisted men of his company, a bright young trumpet er, was sitting up with him, and about the hour of midnight, Dwyer became a trifle uneasy and asked: ‘Can you sing that new song, ‘Put Me Under The Daisies?” “Oh, yes Captain,’ replied the trumpeter, ‘I have often sung it and will gladly sing it now.’ “So he began to sing, very sweetly, the ditty, which seemed to calm the nervousness of his superi or officer. But the candle had burned down in the socket, and when the young soldier went to rep lace it, he could find neither candle nor match, and he saw in the flickering light and shadow that the face of the Captain was strangely set, and of a ghastly purplish hue. “The trumpeter ran swiftly to the nearest house to get another light, and to call for help, but upon returni ng found the Captain dead. “Many strange sights have I seen, but none that produced a stranger or more pathetic appeal to my emotions than the funeral of Phil Dwyer; we got together just as good an apology for a coffin as that timberless country would furnish, and then wrapped our dead friend in his regimentals, and all hands were than ready to start for the cemetery. “At the head marched Mr. Hug us, Doctor Williams (the Indian agent) myself, and Lieutenant Hay, of the Twenty-third Infantry, who arrived at the post early in the morning; then came the troop of cav ah’y, dismounted and all the civil ians living in and around the camp; and lastly every Indian — man, woman, or child — able to walk or toddle, for all of them, young or old, good or bad, loved Phil Dwyer. “The soldiers and civilians formed in one line at the head of the grave, and the Apache-Yumas in two long lines at right angles to them, and on each side. The few, short, expressive, and tender sent ences of the burial service were read, then the bugles sang taps, and three volleys were fired across the hills, the clods rattled down on the breast of the dead, and the cerem ony was over.” Camp Date Creek was abandoned in August of 1873, one year after the burial of Captain Dwyer. The post cemetery at Camp Date Creek with the remains of 28 soldiers and 14 civilians, was to be neglected and forgotten for the next 19 years. In 1892 the government removed the remains of all the military pers onnel at Camp Date Creek, and reb uried most of them at the Presidio in San Francisco. The remains of Capt. Philip Dwyer, however, the only commiss ioned officer buried at Camp Date Creek, were transported the 60 miles up the old wagon road to their final resting place in the Prescott National Cemetery. As I left the cemetery a newsp aper reporter approached me looking for a Memorial Day story. When I showed him the grave marker of Capt. Philip Dwyer, and started to tell his story, he interj ected, “That’s neat, but I’m looki ng for a good human interest story, from someone that has a relative buried here.”