Brief Bio of Comanche's Taxidermist

[Diane Merkel]

Kansas taxidermist was known internationally

As an explorer, naturalist and game warden, Lewis Lindsay Dyche traveled the world collecting specimens of mammals, reptiles and insects to preserve for future Kansans.

Dyche (pronounced "d**e") was born in 1857 in West Virginia.

While he was an infant, his parents moved the family to Kansas Territory, where they settled in Osage County.

During the late 19th century, Dyche gained national attention for his skills as a taxidermist and a professor at the University of Kansas.

In 1891, the U.S. Army asked him to preserve the remains of one of its icons, the old cavalry horse Comanche. The horse was the lone military survivor on the Little Bighorn battlefield after the defeat of Gen. George Armstrong Custer and the 7th Cavalry.

Dyche gained international attention during the 1893 World's Columbian Exposition in Chicago, setting up a massive display of stuffed animals, including Comanche. It took seven railroad cars to ship the display back to Kansas.

Article by Beccy Tanner
Access at www.kansas.com/mld/kansas/news/local/15227750.htm

[elisabeth]

It's sobering to think that Dyche's work represents almost the only uncontestable fact about the whole LBH affair. For that, I guess we owe him a huge debt of gratitude.

Without him, we'd have Comanche as a fine Kentucky sorrel (Charles King), a huge grey (Katy Fougera Gibson), a grey, size unspecified (newspaper obituary), a Morgan (the Morgan people), even an Apaloosa (I've seen that claimed by adherents of the breed), or anything but what he was: "a coarse, hard horse" (Garlington, I think?) that just got the job done.

We'd still have any number of conflicting accounts about who found him and rescued him (almost as many claimants as for "sole survivor" status); whether he was a government horse, or Keogh's; whether he was even Keogh's regular mount. (One trooper claims he was normally ridden by another trooper, McGuire, left sick back at Fort Lincoln -- but that drastically fails to explain Comanche's later ability to carry out drill, unmounted, in front of his troop, as if ridden by the captain.) Many mysteries. But thanks to Dyche, at least we still have the animal himself. And so one thing, at least, can be verified. He's a small (15 hands) claybank, bright but far from beautiful, tough as old boots. Without Dyche, who knows what myths could have been perpetuated. Plenty are, still -- don't get me started! -- but at least they can be disproven, thanks to him.