USA > Kansas > Wabaunsee County > Early history of Wabaunsee County, Kansas, with stories of pioneer days and glimpses of our western border.. > Part 21
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Among the landmarks of the Old Trail not yet obliterated is an old log house on Bluff creek, twelve miles east of Council Grove-made memorable as the home of the noted guerilla, Bill Anderson. In 1862. Bill was a harmless youth, to all appearances at least. He was a regu- lar attendant at the neighborhood debates* and spelling schools, taking a part, with other young men, in the vicinity of his old home. Bill's first trip, and we believe his last, across the plains, was with Parker's mule train, just before the civil war. On this trip Bill became an expert at pistol practice, affected broad-brimmed hats and in a few months cast his lot with Quantrill; was at the sacking of Lawrence and on the night of July 3, 1862, burned Baker's stone house at the Santa Fe crossing of Rock creek, shooting Baker as he attempted to escape through the cellar window. Bill celebrated the 4th the follow- ing morning by shooting 36 holes through the front door of the old stage station at Elm creek-then occupied by Henry Jacobi. The bed in which two children slept was filled with lead but the little ones were unharmed.
*At one of these debates (so deeply impressed on memory's tablet, as never to be effaced). in which Bill took part in January, 1862, held at Charley Withington's, at the crossing of 142 creek, the writer had the honor of acting as secretary. As we remember it a handsome Miss "Muller"-and as worthy and accomplished as handsome-pre- sided as one of the judges. If the "Judge" failed, through fickleness, or from dilatory uncertainty, to make hay while the sun shone so brightly it is safe to say that as he looks regretfully down the long vista of years his eyes are never so bedimmed that he is unable to see the application of Whittier's truthful lines: "It might have been."
As to Bill Anderson (in his boyhood days he was known by no other name than Bill) : Mild in manner and timid in speech, as one might have observed him that evening, Bill was a study. Tall and straight as an Indian, with his light blue eyes and jet black hair-long and flowing, one can hardly realize that within one short year, with bridle reins in his teeth and a revolver in either hand. Bill Anderson could be transformed into a living exemplification of Sherman's truism that "war is hell."
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EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN. £
Santa Fe was the Mecca of boys living on the border in the sixties desirous of graduating in plainscraft. This city has the honor of being the oldest town but one in the United States. At the time my father was agent for the Mail company Santa Fe was the western terminus of the line. It is the capital of New Mexico now as it was then. It boasts of some fine buildings but a large majority of the residences are built of adobe. Many wealthy families are located here, having grown rich in the mining, ranching or mercantile business- being the proprietors of many of the trains that in the early days hauled all their merchandise from points on the Missouri river on the great thoroughfare passing through Wabaunsee county.
While many of the families residing here were fabulously rich the worldly possessions of the great majority is a matter of but little concern to the tax collector and but little more perhaps to the average Mexican, provided he is of the "Greaser" class and the average Mexi- can is always a "Greaser."
Give the Greaser a serapa (Mexican blanket), a burro (donkey) and a few rich relations on his visiting list and he is independent. Add to these possessions a horse, saddle, a huge pair of spurs, and a broad- brimmed hat, and he is monarch, in a literal sense, of all he surveys; and. in many instances, of all he can lay his hands on.
The Greaser's dream of happiness is to marry some rich man's daughter that he may live at his ease-and, at the expense of his wife's relations. Failing in this he is content to become an outlaw, and firm in the belief that the world owes him a living he starts out to look it up. As to whether it is to be found at the gambling table, or at the end of a lasso, it is immaterial to him.
But these remarks refer only to the reckless class whom the fates ordained should be born in New Mexico. Rowdies with the self-same characteristics are not peculiar to that latitude, to the climate, or to the people.
Though Santa Fe was the terminal point of the mail line from Independence the trail over which the thousands of tons of freight were hauled extended far down the Rio Grande and beyond into old Mexico.
On the lower Rio Grande is another "Jornada del Muerto"-an arid waste of sand and cactus, interspersed with sage-brush and some dwarfed mesquite. There are no trees and yet the arid plain is not destitute of fuel. A species of cactus fifteen feet in height and thick as a man's body is found here. This and the sage-brush is utilized as a substitute for the more solid woods abounding in the mountains.
Then, there is the mesquite, the greater part of which, grows under ground. In the past, when we were told that on the arid plains of New Mexico wood was obtained by digging, we concluded that the
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narration would make a fitting appendix to the stories of Munchausen, but such is a fact.
Prior to the advent of the railroad, nearly all the fuel used by the troops at Fort Craig, on the Lower Rio Grande, was nothing more nor less than the roots of the mesquite-a small bush furnishing as much as a cord of wood. These roots are very easily dug from the sandy soil and are less crooked than much of the pinon and other scrubby timber growing in the foot-hills.
Though in a dry time the stretch of arid plain without water lies between terminal points ninety miles apart there are occasional rains or downpours that fill up the holes along the route across the Jornada.
At the Point of Rocks was one of these holes at which water was occasionally found after a hard rain. The place is what the name indicates-a rough, jagged promontory, not very high above the sur- rounding country, but conspicuous by reason of its altitude above the surrounding plains. Here, the dust-begrimed traveler was supplied with a fair quality of water with which to quench his thirst after his weary march.
In times past, the weary traveler looked forward to his arrival at this point on his route with feelings of joy, mingled with a dread that could not be shaken off. Though almost famished, he hardly dared approach the water holes for fear that the draught, though refreshing, might be his last. He feared that his stooping to drink might be the signal for the launching of a shower of arrows sent on their deadly errand by a score of Indians that might lay concealed behind the boulders.
Many a lone expressman or mail carrier met his death at the hands of the treacherous Apaches at the Point of Rocks.
But connected with the history of the old trail are hundreds of horrifying incidents for which the Indian is in nowise responsible. Just beyond the point where the old trail emerged from the mountains at the foot of Raton pass was a little clump of willows where in 1868 an American miner encamped for the last time. He was on his way to the "States," doubtless anticipating the many pleasures in store for him at the old homestead. There was no railroad then and he could not afford the luxury of a ride in the mail coach at twenty-five cents a mile. To his mind it would be extravagant to expend for stage fare, at the rate of $25 per day, money that had been earned by hard work at perhaps a half a hundred per month.
Purchasing a burro, he started with his camping outfit for home. He had saved considerable money and for this, probably, he was way- laid and murdered. His body was found, wrapped in his blankets and cast away in the willows-another victim whose murder is unavenged. Thirty-four years have gone by and mayhap loving friends are yet
EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN.
€
MEXICAN BURROS CARRYING WOOD.
IN THE TURKEY MOUNTAINS. On the old Santa Fe trail.
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EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN.
listening for the footsteps of him who will never come. But a city (Raton) now occupies the spot and long ago neighboring church bells have tolled the requiem of the departed spirit of the victim of the assassin's treachery.
Less than a day's drive from this point the old trail crossed the Cimarron, just as it emerges from the mountains. Here, lived Lucien B. Maxwell, a Frenchman, one of the Fremont party, who, with Kit Carson, and several other members, settled in New Mexico, married Spanish women, and thereby came into possession of princely fortunes. Maxwell's possessions exceeded in area several counties as large as our own. Though autocratic, the old guide and ranchman was generous to a fault. His will was the only law recognized by the hundreds of Indians and Mexicans who looked to him for employment, and- protection.
A one-company post was at one time established within a stone's throw of Maxwell's home, but certainly not by reason of any concern that might be felt for the safety of himself or his people. The whole Ute tribe was as absolutely under his control as is an obedient child to its mother. Then, the Mexicans about the place were always suffi- ciently numerous to guarantee immunity from the depredations of any marauding bands of plains Indians.
Separated by an adobe wall from the Maxwell home stands a two- story hotel of seventy rooms-Lambert's Hotel-that would be a credit to any city, Though the walls are of adobe you would never suspect it-they being plastered and penciled in imitation of stone and the iron caps over the windows with the heavy iron cornice above gives the building an appearance that inspires the question-how came it here? Look for the answer in the turbid waters of the Cimarron --- made turbid by the miners washing for gold. Here the miners would spend their winters and with the vanishing snows on the range they would return to the diggings-wiser, maybe, but penniless.
Though a number of the rooms are now unused the handsome carpets and furnishings of others are indicative of the luxurious tastes of the man who built the hotel-Mr. Lambert.
But Lambert's bar-room has a record. Though built in 1871 no less than 25 men have died with their boots on in front of Lambert's bar. A flash of steel or a shot and another score was settled-another grudge wiped out.
One wouldn't think that the quiet, thin-faced Frenchman who today attends personally to the comfort of his guests at the Hotel Lambert had, in the years gone by, with a nerve just as cool, and a face just as calm, witnessed time and again, in his own house, scenes that would rival those of the French revolution. In the days prior to the advent of the railroad Lambert's bar-room, a score of times, pre-
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sented more the appearance of a slaughter-pen than of a hotel of Metropolitan pretensions. But the tourist who today comes in con- tact with the proprietor of the only hotel at the old historic ranch secs only the genial host in Mr. Lambert, the friend and companion of Maxwell.
While making a trip over the Santa Fe trail in 1867 two of our teamsters met with a narrow escape from the Indians that may be of especial interest to all "tenderfeet" who may pass that way-on the cars.
The name of one of them was Schaffer, a young Jew, who had taken advantage of the high wages paid at the time (on account of the Indian hostilities) to raise the funds necessary to get a start in the wool business. The air castles he was continually building with reference to the profits he hoped to realize in his proposed wool speculation fixed upon him the sobriquet of "Wool Dealer." During the whole trip he was known by no other name, so by that name we will call him. One of the six mules composing Wool Dealer's team was remarkable for contrariness. The wool speculator had consider- able difficulty in picking his team from the herd but this mule he claimed to know by his "general appearance." On this account that particular mule was dubbed: "General Appearance."
While encamped at Fort Dodge General Appearance, concluding, perhaps, that it was unwise to enter any farther into any wool specu- lations, resolved to follow the fortunes of his master no longer. At any rate, he started out over the hills north of the post, followed by Wool Dealer and a chosen companion. For three or four miles the boys followed the mule.
Then they espied in the distance what they supposed to be a band of Indians on the march-about 500 they thought. To be continually joked about the prospects of the wool trade was anything but desirable, but life in camp was preferable, by all odds, to the fate in store for them in case of capture by the Indians. . "
Rapidly taking in the situation the boys put spurs to their saddle mules and struck for camp. In a short time they left the formidable band of Indians far in the rear. The boys had got within about a mile of camp, and were congratulating themselves on their fortunate escape when a new danger presented itself.
Nearly in their front and just behind a little knoll, one of the boys (more scared than the other) saw four or five Indians trying to cut off their retreat. Galloping down a ravine, they followed the old trail into camp, without having been seen, as they supposed, by the straggling Indians.
The boys told the story of their narrow escape, and the facts being
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communicated to General Brooke he sent out a squad of soldiers to reconnoitre.
In a short time the soldiers overtook the four or five "straggling Indians, " whom they found to be scouts from the fort on their way to meet the rock train, hauling stone from the quarries on Saw-Log creek. The rock train proved to be what the boys had mistaken for the band of Indians on the march.
Wool Dealer and his companion never heard the last of their "Thrilling adventures among the Kiowas, or of "How we lost the old mule at Fort Dodge."
On our first trip to Santa Fe over the Old Trail we were impressed with the number of goats and burros to be seen everywhere. Back in the states a goat is a curiosity and a donkey more of a rarity than his bearded lordship.
Goats are sometimes kept about the barnyards of our eastern neighbors under the impression that their presence is desirable by reason of the possession on the part of the goat of peculiar disinfect- ing properties.
If there is any foundation in this, the country about the western terminus of the old trail should be, as it is, a healthful country, but it is doubtful about the goat being entitled to any part of the credit due for the fact. At any rate the two animals named are serviceable Creatures and we are unable to see how their place could well be filled.
The goat is as essential to the welfare of our New Mexican neigh- bors as is the cow to the average Kansan. The ranchman without his herd of goats is an exception. The milk of cows is considered unhealthful as food for the human family and good for calves only. A Mexican, though the owner of fifty cows would not milk one of them, but would keep a herd of goats for the purpose of supplying the fam- ily with milk, cheese, etc. By the way, Goat's milk cheese, as an active agent in appeasing hunger is a product of no mean value, as the writer cau testify from personal experience, and were we less willing to pander to our vitiated tastes, and more anxious to economize, so as to be enabled to live within our means we would follow the example set by our neighbors by keeping a few goats for the cheap food products with which they would provide us.
In other things besides the goat question is the example of our Mexican friends worthy of emulation-especially when we would view matters from an economical standpoint. A Kansas man must hitch a pair of big horses to a heavy lumber wagon to haul a load of wood, hay, or corn. If he finds it necessary to go to town for a few groceries, the same cumbersome wagon is called into requisition.
With the Mexican it is different. Should he find the wood supply getting short he mounts his burro and starts for the nearest timber.
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EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN.
In a short time he returns with the wood but if you are a tenderfoot you may wonder what has become of the donkey. If you are a close observer you may discover his long ears and diminutive legs in front and beneath a huge mountain of wood.
With a load of hay you would see as much of the burro as in the former case except the ears and legs as aforesaid. You would probably indulge in a little speculation as to what new motive power had been invented by the descendants of Montezuma.
If our Mexican friend desires to go on a visit to his wife's people (which he often does) he has only to drive up to the door his favorite donkey, and the carriage is in waiting. It is not unusual to see a whole family riding upon a single donkey. It might be well to state, however, that the families that are in the habit of riding upon one donkey do not consist of more than four or five persons, but it is safe to add that their combined weight, in many cases, exceeds that of the donkey on which they are riding.
If the head of the family finds it convenient to go on a long journey he invariably takes the donkey along-to ride when he is tired, for, when he is in a hurry, he invariably goes on foot-in a dog trot, driving the donkey before him. On such occasions the donkey is a great convenience, the driver can ride while he is resting.
One must admit that the donkey isn't handsome, but he possesses many good qualities that recommend him. He does not object to eat- ing hay and a little corn or oats but such luxuries are the exception and not the rule. A few dry tufts of grass, and an occasional gunny- sack and he is content. His digestive organs are usually in good con- dition. It has been said that he can digest miners' overalls, rubber boots and stray fruit cans, but these statements are not well authen- ticated.
But taken all in all, the burro, as a faithful servant of man is worthy of mention. He is hardy, or he would not survive the treat- ment he receives. It is claimed that he is a small eater. He might eat more but his opportunities in this direction are not usually good. He is reputed to be long lived. This is doubtless true, at least the writer never having seen a dead burro is not prepared to refute the statement.
But of one thing he is assured, and that is that the burro is utilized in every possible way. The sheep herder carries his sack of meal from place to place on the back of his donkey. To the miner he is indispensible, carrying his provisions and prospecting outfit along precipices and over mountainous districts where a horse would not venture. He is well adapted to the work required of him; he is worthy of better treatment than he receives and is capable of serving man in
EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN.
MEXICAN OVEN AND ADOBE HOUSE.
GOAT CURIOSITY, On the old Santa Fe Trail.
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a wider field of action. Success to the burro and may we have more of him.
One of the many interesting land-marks of the western terminal point of the old Santa Fe trail is what is called the Pecos church, built more than 300 years ago by the Jesuit missionaries. The quaint carvings with which the edifice was once adorned are yet to be seen in many of the "casas" of the rancheros within a radius of many miles from the pile of debris that marks the site of the ancient editice.
But more interesting still is Old Fort Barclay, twenty miles east of Las Vegas. The fort is built in the form of a square. At two of the corners, diagonally opposite, is a turret, or block house, the walls of which are perforated with holes, through which rifles may be, and often have been, thrust, to repel the attacks of marauding bands of Apaches, that were wont to make their visits more frequent than pleasant.
And that wasn't very long ago, either. This condition of things has existed for more than 300 years, and to this fact is due the quaint style of architecture peculiar to the country bordering on that part of the Santa Fe trail passing through New Mexico. The house of every ranchero is a fort. The home ranch is built in the form of a square with a court in the center. The roof is flat and the walls extending two feet above the roof furnish excellent means of defense against a hostile force.
What was once a necessity is now a custom and the "plaza" is the rule and not the exception in the style of building peculiar to the Mexican ranch.
Fort Barclay was for years the home of the proprietor of the Kroenig land grant. Mr. Kroenig was one of the scores of men, who, after their term of enlistment in the regular army had expired, had settled down in the land of the Aztec. He was an old friend and com- panion of Maxwell and Kit Carson, and like them, had been smitten by a fair Senorita, the charm of whose smile had weaned the soldier from a life on the tented field. Within the walls of Fort Barclay and for the time a member of the family of Don Julian Kroeuig the writer of these lines had every reason to be assured that the placid old gentleman never regretted that the partner of his joys-and sorrows, maybe-was one of the daughters of Castile.
While domiciled here as a receiver of forage for the Quarter- master's department at Fort Union (in the winter of '68 and '69) our duties were not so pressing as to debar us the privilege of becoming thoroughly acquainted with the Mexican character and it is with pleasure that we are enabled to testify to the many good traits of this quaint people.
At a distance from the military posts, where the native population
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has not been contaminated by adverse American influences, hospitality is a leading trait. Americans receive a hearty welcome at the hands of the better classes, and right here it might be said that some of the fair occupants of these Mexican homes have, time and again, taken a special interest in the welfare of their American cousins-teaching them to forget that back in the "States" bedimmed eyes awaited in vain their promised home-coming.
The language of the people is the Spanish. Although Ollendorph claims that the pure Castilian is spoken in but two provinces of Spain, it may be said that comparatively few provincialisms have crept into the language, considering the isolation of the people from the mother country, the intermingling of the race with the native tribes of Indians, and other natural causes.
Though it has been claimed by a number of the know-all family that the Spanish language, in its purity, is not spoken in New Mexico, one can rest assured that no fears need be entertained that should a native of the country be addressed in the Spanish language that he will not comprehend the meaning of the words spoken.
The language is musical and flows from the lips in a way that adds much to the charm of conversation. Then, too, it is readily learned. There are many German residents in the country and their testimony is that the language can be mastered in half the time necessary to acquire equal familiarity with the English.
A little insight into the construction of the language will readily account for the facility with which it can be learned. For instance, the gender of nouns is, in many cases, indicated by the terminal letter -the letter "o" representing the masculine, and "a," the feminine gender. The following will illustrate our meaning:
Muchacho, boy,
Muchacha, girl,
Hermano, brother, Hijo, son.
Hermana, sister,
Hija, daughter.
In other words the difference in gender is indicated by the primal letter, as padre, father, and madre, mother. In these words the sim- ilarity to the Latin language is recognized. This is further illustrated by a comparison of the Latin and Spanish numerals.
Latin
Spanish
1. Unus.
1. Uno,
2. Duo.
2. Dos,
3. Tres,
3. Tres,
4. Quatuor,
4. Cuatro,
5. Quinque,
5. Cinco,
6. Sex,
6. Seis,
7. Septem,
7. Siete,
8. Octo.
8. Ocho.
9. Novem,
9. Nueve,
10. Decem.
10. Diez.
From the above it is apparent that a person somewhat familiar with Latin will find the labor of acquiring a knowledge of the Spanish language materially lessened.
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EARLY HISTORY OF WABAUNSEE COUNTY, KAN.
As to the time required to familiarize one's self with the language, that would depend, of course, on the degree of application with which the study is pursued, and the aptitude of the student. When one is thrown on his own resources, his perceptive faculties are quickened, and his memory is the better prepared to endure the tax made upon it. The writer can testify to the truth of this statement, having passed several weeks with the family of Don Vicente Romero, at La Cueva.
But one person on the ranch could speak a word of English. This was young Romero, who had received the benefit of a college educa- tion in the "States." Inasmuch as the greater part of his time was passed away from home, but little benefit was derived from his assist- ance in communicating with the native population.
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