The center of population has moved less spasmodically, but with great regularity. A hundred years ago the City of Baltimore was the center of population, and it was not until the middle of the century that Ohio boasted of owning the population center. For some twenty years it remained near Cincinnati, but during the '80s it went as far as Columbus, Indiana, where it was at the last Government census. At the present time it is probably twenty or thirty miles west of Columbus, and in the near future Fort Riley will be the population, as well as the geographical, center.
Fort Riley is an interesting spot for civilian and soldier alike. Having been selected by the Government as the permanent training school for the two mounted branches of the service--the cavalry and light artillery--its 21,000 acres have been improved at lavish expense. It seems really remarkable that so metropolitan a bit of ground could be found out on the plains, where, though civilization is making rapid strides, and the luxuries of wealth are being acquired by the advancing population, it is unusual to find macadamized streets and buildings that can harbor a regiment and still not be crowded. Yet such are some of the characteristics of Fort Riley Reservation, and the newness of it all is the best evidence of the interest the War Department has taken in its development. Many of the recently erected buildings would grace the capital itself. Nearly $1,000,000 have been expended in the past four years in new structures, all of magnesia limestone, and built along the lines of the most approved modern architecture, and of a character which insures scores of years of usefulness.
The fort is situated on the left bank of the Kansas River, near the junction of the Republican and Smoky Hill Forks. It was first laid out in 1852, and has ever since been one of the leading Western posts. Located, though it is, far out on the Kansas prairies, it has, particularly in late years, been fully in touch with the social life of the East, through the addition of new officers and the interchange of post courtesies.
The post, as it stands to-day, consists of officers' quarters, artillery and cavalry barracks, administration buildings, sheds, hospital, dispensary, etc., scattered over 150 acres of ground. The Kansas River is formed just southwest of it by the union of the Smoky Hill and Republican Forks, and the topography for practice and sightseeing could not be surpassed in the State. Five miles of macadamized streets, 150,000 feet of stone and gravel walks, six miles of sewers, four miles of water and steam heating pipes, leading to every room of each of the sixty buildings, make up the equipment, which is, of course, of the highest quality throughout. All the stone is quarried on the reservation, and is of lasting variety, and makes buildings which bear a truly substantial appearance. The Government has an idea toward permanency in its improvements.
The history of Fort Riley has been one of vicissitudes. When it was laid out in 1852, it was at first called Camp Center, but was changed to its present name by order of the War Department in honor of General B. C. Riley. In 1855, the fort suffered from Asiatic cholera, and Major E. A. Ogden, one of the original commissioners who laid out the reservation, who was staying there, nursed the soldiers with a heroic attachment to duty, and himself fell a victim to the disease. A handsome monument marks his resting place. He was a true soldier hero, and his name is still spoken in reverence by the attaches of the post.
Another notable feature of the reservation is the dismantled rock wall to the east of the fort, which is all that now remains of the once ambitious capitol building of the State of Kansas. It has a strange history, being the "Pawnee House," in which the Territorial Legislature met in the early ante-bellum days, confident of protection by the soldiers from the roaming Indian bands infesting the prairies.
A famous dweller at the fort for two decades was old Comanche, the only living creature to escape from the Custer massacre on the side of the Government. He was the horse ridden by an officer in that memorable fight, and by miracle escaped, after having seven balls fired into him. He was found roaming over the prairie, after the massacre, and was ordered put on the retired list, and stationed at Fort Riley, where for twenty years he was petted and cared for, but never ridden. His only service was to be led in processions of ceremony, draped in mourning. Now that he is dead, his body has been preserved with the taxidermist's best skill, and is one of the State's most noted relics.
The fort has been of unusual interest of late. In addition to the maneuvers of the school for mounted service, in which the soldiers have been regularly drilled, engaging in sham battles, throwing up mimic fortifications, fording the rivers, etc., the War Signal Service has been conducting some interesting experiments. The Signal Service has had its huge balloon, which was exhibited at the World's Fair, at the post, and its ascensions and the operations put in practice have proved very attractive and instructive.
The new riding hall, or cavalry practice building, makes it possible for the training school to go on the year round, regardless of the weather. It has an open floor space 300 feet long and 100 feet wide, making it an admirable room for the purpose.
The Fort Riley troops are always called on when there is trouble in the West. They have put down a dozen Indian uprisings on the plains, and only a few months ago were sent for to keep order in Chicago during the railway strikes. From this trip, four old members of the post were brought back dead, having met their fate in the bursting of a caisson, while marching along a paved street.