THE LIFE AND TIMES OF RIP FORD
Part 13: Doc Sullivan
by Bob Heinonen
Ford met some interesting people while he and Robert S.
Neighbors mapped a route from
“He was what people call a “character.” He was medium height, compactly built, and weighed about 135 pounds. His hair was white, his eyebrows and eyes likewise. The latter were in constant motion, as if under the influence of a current of galvanism, yet they produced no unpleasant impression upon the beholder. His countenance was pleasant, his impulses generous, his intercourse with his fellow men gave evidence of manliness and frankness. He was insensible to the feeling of fear, brave to a fault, a kind and accommodating friend, and a bitter and dangerous enemy. He had an inseparable companion, Alpheus D. Neal, of about the same height, but more robust. Neal had all the manly qualities of his friend.” [i]
Doc and Alf were “…never still when there was any mischief they could set on foot. They never stopped for an impending danger but went straight ahead in anything they understood. The chance of getting shot did not deter them from playing a practical joke. Sullivan was made prisoner at Mier, when a mere lad. He indignantly refused to be bribed. He was intractable and incorrigible. The Mexicans could not control the boy prisoner. They gave him tools and put him to work; he threw the tools into the water closet[toilet], and took a long rest in spite of the guards. They placed him in the kitchen to assist the Mexican cooks; in a little while one of them rushed out with a broken head. A good-hearted old priest tried his hand on him. After a short probation he brought him back saying he was muy viciso--a spoiled child.”[ii]
Sullivan’s shenanigans did get him in trouble—and sometimes those around him. “One day, while on the march, a squaw came riding by at almost full speed. She was followed by a brave, with a gunstick in his hand. She straddled the fleetest horse, but would get off her guard occasionally, when the warrior would dash at her and give her a rousing whack with the gunstick, and away she would go. Meantime Neal came up.
“’What is the matter Alf?’
“’Oh, it’s some of Doc’s deviltry. The squaws were anxious to learn something of white men. Doc was delivering a lecture, and promised them a matinee tomorrow. The warrior came along, discovered that his wife constituted one of Sullivan’s audience, and the row commenced.’”
“We encamped, and were not dreaming of danger. Not long after dark, Jim Shaw [head Indian guide] returned from Buffalo Hump’s wigwam. [Buffalo Hump was a Comanche chief contracted to help guide the party.] He was a badly-scared Indian, and communicated to quite all of us his feeling of alarm and the cause of it. Jim thought it probable we might all be killed before morning. He lectured and swore at Sullivan considerably. Every time a stick was broken during the night the writer [Ford] awoke. Sullivan slept “like a log,” as the saying is. The next morning the women and children were sent away before daylight. We were kept in camp until the sun was two hours high. Bufflo Hump’s main band was sent in a different direction from the one we travelled. He retained one of his wives and her children. The cause: one of Buffalo Hump’s wives attended Sullivan’s exhibition.”[iii]
In spite of his shenanigans, Doc knew his duty and his
place. “On the fifteenth day of April,
1849, a terrific wet norther struck us on the bare
and almost sterile plain between the head of the Concho and
“Sullivan had by this time established a reputation among the Indians; they considered him crazy, and not responsible for his acts. He took advantage of the supposition, and was seldom out of devilment. He stuck pins in warriors, and made them cut capers very unusual for braves to perform. He notified the Indian public that he would give a performance, free of charge, and invited a general attendance. He had a good audience. He played the buzzard, performing feats imitative of those customary to that melancholy bird, in near proximity to a dead horse. He next illustrated the antics of a lizard. He went off on all fours at a brisk gait, ensconced himself behind a log. He would peep over the log, and drop out of sight in the twinkling of an eye. The sight of his contorted face and his white eyes as they danced in his head produced shouts of laughter. Anything more ludicrous has seldom been witnessed. He sang a lisping song: “Miss Julia was very peculiar” was the course, if memory serves. The Comanches did not understand a word, yet they applauded and laughed immoderately. One young warrior laughed himself almost into convulsions. His friends carried him off, fearing he would make himself sick. To use a worn-out phrase of the day, the performance was a complete success.”[v]
Doc Sullivan was a strange one, but what about some of the
others on this expedition to find a safe trail to
Next Month - Part 14:
Bob Heinonen is the founder of Texas Heroes and has been portraying Rip Ford since 1993.