Albert Pheiffer
The Nude Combatant
The Dutch-born Albert Pfeiffer immigrated to the United States in the early 1840s. Like many others, he began making his way West and married into a well-to-do Mexican family from Northern New Mexico.
Pheiffer eventually found employment as a sub-agent for the Ute tribe, working directly under the famous Kit Carson. This association would continue during the Civil War as both Pheiffer and Carson enlisted with the New Mexico Volunteers. If you heard my most recent series on Carson, you probably recall me briefly speaking of Pheiffer, most notably his actions against the Navajo at Canyon de Shelly.
According to Pheiffer’s granddaughter, Pauline Nelson, “Recordings in military archives place him constantly by Carson’s side riding together from the start of his career. He was twenty years younger than Kit Carson, but history and writings tell of the close friendship that grew between the two. The relationship was a genuine one of man to man and officer to officer.”
Be that as it may, it’s not Pheiffer’s relationship with Kit Carson that makes him so compelling.
It’s his penchant for fighting in his birthday suit.
Pheiffer’s first nude brawl – or at least the first that I’m aware of – occurred in June of 1863.
He, along with his pregnant wife, adopted daughter, and a small contingent of soldiers paid a visit to New Mexico’s aptly named El Ojo del Muerto - the Spring of the Dead. Pheiffer hadn’t been feeling up to snuff and hoped a long soak would cure what ailed him.
Unfortunately, the Apache had other plans.
In the short fight that ensued, several of the soldiers were wounded or killed, and the warriors carried away Albert’s wife and daughter. It happened so quickly that he didn’t even have time to get dressed. He simply snatched up his rifle and went in pursuit before he, too, sustained a pretty nasty wound.
Per the November 1933 edition of The Colorado Magazine, Pheiffer “was followed by the Indians who shot at him, one of the arrows entering his back with the end coming out in front. In this condition, with the arrow in his back, he ran until he reached an enclosure of rock where he made a halt to rest and defend himself.”
Sadly, Pheiffer was unable to rescue the women. It’s a miracle that he was even still alive. Instead, he made his way on foot to Fort McCrae (still naked btw) where he hoped to pick up a few reinforcements.
Once again, per The Colorado Magazine, “When the surgeon drew out the arrow from his back, the sun-scorched skin surrounding the wound came off with it, and for days the Captain suffered intense agony and lay for two months at the point of death.”
Thus began Pheiffer’s one-man war against the Apaches.
According to an article published by The Colorado Chieftain on June 29th, 1871, “It was a bad day for the Apaches when they killed old Pfeiffer’s family. He made several trips, alone, into their country, staying, sometimes for months, and always seemed pleased, for a few days, on his return. He was always accompanied by about half a dozen wolves in the Apache country. ‘They like me,’ he said once, ‘because they’re fond of dead Indian, and I feed them well.'”
Six months after becoming a widower, Pheiffer would take part in Carson’s infamous scorched-earth campaign against the Navajo, an action that saw him promoted to the rank of brevet Lieutenant Colonel.
Now, as much as Pheiffer may have hated the Apache and Navajo, he remained life-long friends with the Ute. Which leads us to yet another fight in the nude.
Apparently, the Utes and the Navajo disagreed about who controlled the hot springs near present-day Pagosa Springs, Colorado.
The situation turned violent, and after a few days of sporadic fighting, the Ute sought counsel from their old friend, Albert Pheiffer. As such, Pheiffer brokered a deal between both parties. Each side would send out its best fighter to engage in a trial by combat. It would be a fight to the death, mano y mano, winner takes all.
The Navajos chose their fiercest and largest warrior, and the Utes chose Pheiffer. Or maybe Pheiffer volunteered himself; nobody truly knows. Full disclosure: We also don’t know for a fact that this fight even took place. It’s apocryphal at best, but most definitely worth repeating.
The story goes that both men, Pheiffer and the unnamed Navajo, stripped naked and armed themselves with Bowie knives. The mere sight of Pheiffer’s body, however, covered in scars from untold battles, threw the warrior off his game and, well, let’s say the Utes retained possession of said springs.
After mustering out of the service, Pheiffer followed Carson to Colorado’s San Luis Valley. By the early 1870s, he was homesteading just west of the town of Del Norte, where he passed away in 1881 at the age of 58. At the time of his death, he reportedly bore the scars of 17 different bullet and knife wounds.
According to historian Jim Perkins, Pheiffer’s death occurring in bed and not among the cactus and rocks in some lonely place was a miracle in itself.
UPDATES
The Wild West Extravaganza will NOT be releasing a new episode this week. I’m busy preparing the next few installments (and packing for a short yet much-needed vacation). In the meantime, feel free to check out my series on the Lewis and Clark Expedition.
We’ll be returning on Wednesday, September 9th, with the story of Olive Oatman. If you’re not familiar with it, Olive was captured by Native Americans in 1851 and held as a “prisoner” for several years. When she emerged, the world was shocked at her appearance. And the story she had to tell has fascinated us ever since.
Till next time,
Adios.
If I have to wake up in the middle of the night and repel boarders, you may find me in my skivies, and occasionally nude. But not by choice