The crazy idea of importing camels to the United States got its start back in 1836 during the Second Seminole War, when Army quartermaster George H. Crossman stated his desire to use them in the oppressive Florida heat. Ten years later, during the Mexican-American War, then-Major Crossman pitched the camel’s possible utility during military maneuvers in the expansive desert country of Mexico and the arid American West.
When the war with Mexico ended in 1848, Crossman and other army officers lobbied senators for approval to introduce camels to military service. Among the senators who supported the idea was fellow Mexican War veteran Jefferson Davis of Mississippi, chairman of the Senate Committee on Military Affairs. When Davis was appointed Secretary of War in 1853, he used his powerful political position to press Congress for funds to import and test camels on the
Western frontier. Davis insisted that the use of camels to replace mules and horses to supply far-flung military outposts was sound. He referenced French leader Napoleon Bonaparte’s effective use of camels during his military campaign against Great Britain’s interests in Egypt and Syria. Like Arabs and Persians before him, Bonaparte had successfully exploited the virtues of the hardy dromedary for reconnaissance, as well as supply and communication between isolated military posts in a hostile environment. Davis told of a camel’s ability to carry a soldier up to 70 miles in one day, and how it could carry loads as heavy as 600 lbs. His enthusiastic endorsements, however, failed to inspire much interest by Congress and no appropriations were forthcoming.
There also was the significant matter of surveying potential cross-country routes for the United State’s first transcontinental railroad, a project that had gained much greater importance after the mass migration to California during the gold rush. As sectarian tensions increased between Northern and Southern states during the 1850s, the necessity of linking the Far West to the rest of the republic grew more urgent. In 1853, Congress authorized scientific surveys to determine “the most practicable and economical route” for such a railroad. Politicians polarized by slavery and threats of secession could not agree on the best route, so surveying efforts were placed under the supposedly neutral War Department run by Jefferson Davis, a proud Southerner and future leader of the Confederacy during the American Civil War.
Davis selected four routes based on north to south latitudes, with the southernmost line along the 32nd parallel favored by Southern leaders. The scarce vegetation, brackish water and arid landscape in the future states of Texas, Arizona and New Mexico provided perfect conditions for camels to lead these Western surveying expeditions. In an annual report, Davis recommended the introduction “of a sufficient number of both varieties (single and double hump) of this animal to test its value and adaptation to our country and our service.” Over time, Davis managed to convince Congress that the animals could be useful for American military purposes, and in 1855 he secured $30,000 in funding for his grand camel experiment.
A small naval expedition was dispatched to Turkey and other nations along the Mediterranean Sea. Unfortunately, the Crimean War had driven up the price of camels to $50 for a good female and $100 for a sturdy male. To make matters worse, the British Army had just purchased 8,000 camels for use in the war. After eight months, the ship returned with nearly 80 animals and the U.S. Army’s Camel Corps was formed.
In 1857, Edward “Ned” Beale was appointed superintendant of a government survey for a military wagon road from New Mexico Territory to Fort Téjon in California. Along with 50 men and 10 wagons loaded with equipment, Beale was authorized to take up to 25 camels with him. He was ordered to test the “usefulness, endurance and economy” of the camels. After nearly a month crossing rugged terrain, Beale was deeply impressed and reported that his camels “could travel continuously in a country where no other barefooted beast could last a week.”
When they crossed the Colorado River four months later, two horses and 10 mules drowned before reaching the California side. The camels, however, easily swam through the treacherous, murky current. Beale’s frontier journey was a marked success. In November 1857, Ned Beale rode his white camel Seid into the fledgling city of Los Angeles to great amazement. At the conclusion of the expedition, Beale wrote, “A year in the wilderness ended! During this time I have conducted a party from the Gulf of Mexico to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, and back again, through a country for a great part entirely unknown, and inhabited by hostile Indians, without the loss of one man. I have tested the value of the camels, marked a new road to the Pacific, and traveled 4,000 miles without incident.”
It seemed that the camel experiment was a grand success, but with the onset of the Civil War, interest in the project waned and the Camel Corps disbanded in 1863. In California, 36 camels were taken to Benicia where they were auctioned off to Samuel McLaughlin who bought them for $1,945. He sent a few to his Sonoma ranch and sold some to Virginia City businessmen to haul supplies.
On his way to Virginia City with 10 camels in 1864, McLaughlin stopped in Sacramento and staged a “Dromedary Race” in the city’s Agriculture Park. Unfortunately, unforeseen problems cropped up with these beasts of burden. Sharp rocks cut their feet despite special leather boots made to protect them. Horse and mules stampeded at the sight and smell of the large alien creatures. (Former Truckee resident Frank Titus has told me how his grandfather, who was a teamster in Virginia City in the 19th century, was killed on Geiger Grade when his team was spooked by camels.) The feisty animals bit pedestrians and chewed laundry off resident’s wash lines. In Virginia City, the strange camel trains were only allowed to pass through town at night. Nevadans hated the troublesome beasts. In Lyon County, if you let your camel stray, they threw you in jail for 30 days.
Eventually, many of the poor beasts were abandoned in the desert, where some survived for years. Angry Wells Fargo stagecoach drivers complained of camels all the way from Lake Tahoe to Ely, Nev. Their teams panicked at every encounter with the strange creatures. Even 30 years later, occasionally a wide-eyed prospector would stride into a Comstock saloon, belly up to the bar and tell the bartender of the bizarre mirage he had seen.
