USA > Missouri > Missouri the center state, 1821-1915 > Part 19
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It was necessary to exercise no little care in making the selections, especially for the wheel pair and the leaders. The wagon master was in command with all of the authority of the captain on a ship. He kept close watch on the teams until they were made up and marked. If a "bullwhacker" was careless he might select the oxen most easily handled. Such animals were slow and lazy. They were known as "dead-heads." If a team was made up of "dead-heads" it would fall behind. The wagon master made it his business to see that the wild and the lazy oxen were so distributed as to give uniform speed to the several teams. If he found that one team had too many slow and lazy oxen he required the "bull- whacker" at the next yoke-up to trade with some one whose pairs were wild and
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lively. After some days out when a wagon master had distributed the oxen so as to stop lagging and to obtain from all about the same rate of speed he ordered the "bullwhacker" to mark each of his steers. After this the "bullwhacker" in yoking up obtained the same team from day to day.
A story was current in Missouri during the freighting days about an Irishman who entered the employ of Majors, Russell and Waddell. This man was green, a recent arrival in the country. In yoking up he took the twelve oxen that were easiest to handle. As the result he found himself in the possession of twelve "dead-heads," and as the result delayed the movement of the train. The wagon master went into the corral one morning and yoked up the team for the Irishman, making different selections. He told the Irishman to keep the team the next day and thereafter just as he had yoked it. The Irishman wanted to know how in the world he was going to be able to do that when oxen all looked alike to him. "Put a mark on each of them," ordered the wagon master. At the next stop there was serious trouble in the Irishman's team. The wagon master ran to the scene to see what was the matter. The Irishman replied that he was putting a mark on each of the beasts as he had been told to do. The wagon master replied that that was all right, but how did he mean to mark them. "I am going to punch the left eye out of every one of them," said the Irishman, "then I will know that I will have no more trouble yoking the devils. I can slip up on the blind side and have them yoked before they know I am there."
The Customs of the Trail.
A day's travel was divided usually into two drives of from six to seven or eight miles each. The trains started early in the morning. The drives were made to reach the most favorable camping places where grass and water were plenty. The first drive was started as soon as it was light enough to see. Some- what before noon the wagons were corraled and the cattle were given the feed. In hot weather the yoke-up for the afternoon drive was not ordered until three or four o'clock. The drive on such days was continued until nine or ten o'clock. When the cattle were unyoked they were turned over to the night herder who kept watch over them as they moved about seeking the best grass. One man could take care of three hundred or four hundred head of oxen at night because it was only necessary to keep track of the leader. In the herd of a train there developed very soon after the start on the trail one animal which all the others recognized as a leader. Wherever the leader went the rest of the herd followed. The night herder having located the leader, got off his mule, drove a pin in the ground, attached a long rope that allowed the mule some range, rolled himself in his blanket and went to sleep. This was the night herder's course when the grass was plenti- ful. After they had grazed about three hours the oxen would obtain in that time sufficient feed and would remain quiet, lying down until near morning. When grass was scarce the leader would wander about the plains, all the herd following him, a longer time, thus requiring the night herder to follow and keep awake. With the first appearance of gray in the east the night herder rounded up the oxen and started back for the corral. He might have a mile to drive or possibly five times that distance. When he was within hearing of the corral he shouted, "Roll out! Roll out! Roll out !" This was the signal for the "bullwhackers" to prepare breakfast and be ready to yoke up. The meal on the trail consisted of
SANTA FE TRAIL MARKER
- -
A FARM ADVISER IN THE FIELD
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potatoes, fat meat, flapjacks and black coffee with such game as was brought in by the hunters.
"Yoke up!" was the first order that came from the master of the caravan as soon as breakfast was over. Then the yoking and chaining went on. "All's set" was the answer as each teamster completed that work and he who could respond first was the best man. "Fall in !" was the next order and the long line of wagons was formed. "Stretch out!" commanded the wagon master. The yokes creaked, the wheels rattled and the train moved at oxen pace.
Walter B. Waddell, a resident of Lexington, grandson of a member of the historic firm of Alexander, Majors and Waddell, said that often a single train would require 300 mules. To each wagon were allotted twelve mules or six yoke of oxen. Drivers were paid from $25 to $50 a month and were supplied with rations. The time of a trip from Lexington, which was one of the principal start- ing points, to Santa Fe was between eighty and ninety days. Ordinary freight consisted of beef, bacon, corn, dried fruits, beans and peas, all carefully packed and under cover. The rate was ten cents a pound. Each wagon was expected to earn from $500 to $600 a trip. Missouri's great mule industry had its early encouragement in the Santa Fe and overland traffic.
John D. Turley's Recollections.
The Turleys of Saline County, two generations of them, followed the Trail trade from 1825 down to the Civil war. Judge John D. Turley, eighty-five years old, at his home near Arrow Rock, gave Walter Williams, president of the Old Trails Association, this account of his experiences :
"We fought Indians across the entire continent and carried on a most profitable trade in merchandise with the Mexicans. We bought whisky from the distilleries in Missouri at 16 to 40 cents a gallon and sold it in Taos at $3 a gallon. It was terrible stuff, too. We diluted it with water, making two gallons out of every gallon, but even then it was terrible. The ox teams had six yoke of oxen and the ordinary load for a wagon was 7,200 pounds. A load of 3,000 pounds is a good wagon load now. We took our merchandise. to Taos or Santa Fe, opened a regular store and would sell out our entire stock in two or three months. The remnants of our last stock my father traded for Mexican sheep at $1 a head, took the sheep to California and sold them at $10 a head. I sold sassafras root at $4.50 a pound in Taos. We traveled about twenty-five miles a day. The last trip took forty-nine days. We met on that trip Rose, said to be the handsomest Indian woman in the West. My father made his first trip in 1825 and the Turleys stayed on the trail until nearly the open- ing of the Civil war. Various tricks were played on the Mexicans. There was a tariff on every load of goods brought into Mexican territory. The tariff was so much a wagonload. If the wagon was empty it was admitted duty free. Some traders would load the goods just outside the Mexican territory into half the wagons and drive in with half the caravan made up of empty wagons, thus paying but half the duty. The fandango-a kind of public dance-was the chief form of social entertainment. The Spanish girls at the fandangoes were sometimes treated to ice cream and whisky. It is a devilish combination."
The Fast Stage Line.
The Missouri Commonwealth was published at Independence in the palmy days of the Santa Fe Trail. A copy of it issued in July, 1840, and preserved in the office of the editor of the Examiner, gave this account of the starting of the fast overland mail line following the gold discoveries in California :
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"We briefly alluded some days since, to the Santa Fe line of mail stages, which left this city on its first monthly journey on the Ist instant. The stages are got up in elegant style and are arranged to convey eight passengers. The bodies are beautifully painted and made water-tight with a view of using them as boats in ferrying streams. The team con- sists of six mules to each coach. The mail is guarded by eight men, armed as follows : Each man has at his side, fastened in the stage, one of Colt's long revolving rifles; in a holster below, one of Colt's long revolvers, and in his belt a small Colt's revolver, besides a hunting knife; so that these men are ready in case of attack, to discharge 136 shots without having to reload. This is equal to a small army, armed as in the ancient times, and from the looks of this escort, ready as they are either for offensive or defensive warfare with the savages, we have no fears for the safety of the mails. The accommodating contractors have estab- lished a sort of base of refitting at Council Grove, a distance of 150 miles from this city, and have sent out a blacksmith and a number of men to cut and cure hay, with a quantity of animals, grain and provisions, and we understand they intend to make a sort of travel- ing station there and commence a farm."
Tragedies of the Trail.
Missourians met tragedies on the Trail. One of the earliest and most thrilling was in 1828, not long after the United States commissioners had negotiated with the Indians at Council Grove the opening of the Trail. A large wagon train made the trip from Franklin, Missouri, to Santa Fe and disposed of the goods carried at good profits. The Missourians had come as far as the Arkansas river to a place near what is now Lamar, Colorado, when they found the Comanches camped across the Trail. The Indians pretended to be friendly. They invited the party to stop in their camp, offering food and care of the stock. The Missourians pushed through. The Comanches followed and attacked. For an hour there was a running fight. Then the Comanches retired. Of what followed Walter Williams, in his journey over the Trail in 1911, obtained this account from Joseph H. Vernon of Larned, Kansas, who heard the story from old trailsmen in the early days :
"When night came on the Indians resumed their attacks, endeavoring to stampede the horses so that they could chase them off and then capture them. Their attempts were almost successful several times during the night and they were only kept from accomplish- ing their purpose by tying the bell mare to one of the wagons and jingling the bell every time the Indians charged. The next day the Comanches renewed the attack as vigorously as ever. Forming in a circle, they galloped round and round the ill-fated caravan, shouting their demoniacal warwhoops in a most fiendish manner. So fierce were the harassing tactics which they used that the little line of prairie schooners succeeded in advancing only five miles during the day. This annoyance was kept up night and day for a week until the travelers were almost exhausted from loss of sleep.
"Finally one day about noon the Indians drew off and retreated as if giving up the con- flict. The little party congratulated themselves at having outwinded their opponents and decided to stop, cook a square meal and let the horses graze a while. Hardly had they turned the animals out when, with a hideous whoop, the marauding rascals came over the top of a nearby hill and, charging the herd, stampeded them before the luckless travelers could offer any resistance. One of the party, in an endeavor to save some of the stolen stock, was wounded sixteen times, but succeeded in making his way back to camp. The fight continued intermittently for some time, but when the good marksmanship of the whites began to tell on the ranks of the painted demons they withdrew to wait for the coming of darkness to finish their work. The little band of white men was then indeed in a most desperate situation. Their wagons, it is true, formed a good fortification, but there was no way of telling how long the Indians would keep up the siege, knowing as they did that it would be only a matter of time until the whites would die of thirst. To remain with the caravan meant certain death if the Indians persisted in their attacks. The only possible escape was to get away under cover of darkness. This they decided to do, if possible.
ROBERT FORSYTH
LOUIS A. BENOIST
INDIAN ALARM OF MISSOURI OVERLAND TRAIN ON THE CIMARRON RIVER
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Leaving in the camp the goods and much of the silver, for which they had sold merchandise in Santa Fe, they took $10,000 and started. Their escape was undiscovered. They traveled for two days and nights with nothing to eat but a few prickly pears and then stopped to rest, camping near the present site of Las Animas, Colorado. Most of the party were in a very weak condition after their exhausting experience and it was evident that they could not stand the weight of any heavy burdens, so they determined to 'cache' the silver, keeping only a small sum for each man. Proceeding to a small island in the Arkansas river, they buried their treasure between two large cottonwood trees and, after carefully obliterating all evidence of the secret hiding place, they continued their journey toward the settlements. After several days of forced marching they reached Pawnee Rock, near where Larned now is, where they had hopes of falling in with some caravan and obtaining relief.
"Their condition was indeed deplorable. At Cow Creek it was decided that the strongest members of the party, leaving the others, should push on in advance, reach Independence as soon as possible and send a relief party out in quest of the weaker members of the party, who in the meantime would struggle on as best they could. The sufferings of those who pushed on were terrible indeed. Knowing the lives of the weaker ones whom they had left behind depended on their haste, they moved with all possible energy. It was getting late in the fall, and they had no blankets to protect them from the chill wind. Some of them were barefooted, and their feet, bruised and bleeding, left bloodstains at every step on the trail. The continual exertion of their forced march and the lack of wholesome food weakened their condition to such an extent that they became almost wholly deaf, not being able to hear a gun fired at a distance of only a few feet. Finally, after existing for eleven days upon one turkey, one coon and some wild grapes, they reached a settlement about fifteen miles from Independence. Half-naked, footsore and in an almost complete state of collapse, they were taken to Independence. With the quick sympathy of the frontiersman, a rescuing party was formed and sent out to rescue the other members of the expedition. They were found scattered along the trail, looking more like skeletons than human beings. After spending some months in Independence they decided to retrace their steps to find their buried treasure. Learning that the United States Government intended sending a military escort as far as the Mexican boundary line with a caravan in the spring, they decided not only to go after the money which they had cached on the Arkansas river, but also to fit up another wagon train and go on to Santa Fe. The caravan left Fort Leavenworth during the early part of May and arrived at the Mexican border without experiencing any serious difficulty. The Americans soon found their hidden treasure. Late in the fall the entire party arrived safely at the Missouri river, and, dividing their treasure, departed for their homes. This was the first military escort ever sent across the plains on the trail with a caravan. It was under the command of Maj. Bennett Riley, for whom Fort Riley, Kansas, was named."
Amateur Surgery on the Trail.
A tradition of the trail which has survived the generations is the wonderful surgical operation Richard Gentry performed. A Missourian named Broaddus attempted the feat of drawing his rifle muzzle foremost over the end gate of a wagon. As was to be expected he received the load in his left arm, shattering the bone. The time was August. Inflammation set in. Broaddus gritted his teeth and said "no" to amputation until he was apparently dying. Then he consented. There was no surgeon. Gentry took a hand saw, a butcher knife and an iron bolt. He filed a finer set of teeth on the back of the saw, whetted the butcher knife to razor edge and put the bolt in the fire. With the knife the arm was circled down to the bone. A few strokes of the saw cut through that. Then the hot bolt was applied until the stump was seared and the blood flow stopped. In a few weeks Broaddus was well.
Among the many Missourians who engaged in the Trail trade were John S. Jones, Thomas C. Cartwright and Thomas F. Houston.
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Five Dollars a Letter.
The pony express came in as a fast mail feature of the overland trail. It was organized by the same Missourians who had made a success of the trail traffic. With the discovery of gold and the sudden migration of thousands to California there arose a need for quicker transit of mail. Five dollars was charged for each letter. The thinnest paper was used. The distance was nearly two thousand miles from St. Joseph to San Francisco. It was covered in eight days. There were eighty riders in the saddle constantly, forty on the way from St. Joseph to California and forty coming eastward at the same time. With those kept in reserve a force of four hundred riders was employed for the pony express. The service continued about a year. It ended when the Pacific telegraph was com- pleted and began sending messages. To connect with the pony express the Han- nibal & St. Joe railroad, only recently completed, put on a fast mail. The hero of the first run of this train was Engineer Add Clark. He drew the mail from the Mississippi to the Missouri, 206 miles, in a little over four hours. Crowds assembled at the stations to see and cheer. At the St. Joseph terminus a pony stood near. The mail clerk jumped from the mail car, ran with the little bags of mail and threw them across the back of the pony. The rider plied his spur and dashed to the landing where the ferry boat was waiting. In less than a minute after the train stopped the pony express was on the way across the Missouri river.
Hampton Ball's Stage Driving Days.
One of the last of the Missouri stage drivers was Hampton Ball who died at Jonesburg in 1911. He was of the Virginia Balls, the family to which George Washington belonged. At eighty-one Hampton Ball was tall and erect, muscular and active. He accounted for his splendid health by his "temperance, inde- pendence and outdoor life." As early as 1847 Mr. Ball drove the stage on the Boone's Lick road. "Why, sir," he once said, "we never heard of such a thing as a stage coach robbery on our route. I recall that James Huntington, a large contractor, at one of the taverns in northeast Missouri, put $6,000 in an open drawer in a public room in one of these inns, and left it there all night. I told him that I believed it would be dangerous; that there might be some stranger- not a Missourian, of course-who would steal the money.
"'You don't think any of the guests at this hotel would be mean enough to steal, do you?' was Huntington's indignant reply. .
"I knew all the old stage stand keepers," Mr. Ball continued. "Kenner at Paudingville was one of the greatest. He could play a fiddle that would almost make the trees dance. He was jovial and generous and one of the most profane men I ever knew. He did not mean to be profane, but he swore almost as readily as some people whistle. Although he ran a public house, there was never any meal served at his table on which he did not ask the blessing. The great pioneer Methodist, Rev. Andrew Monroe, stopped one day at his house. The stage coach driver suggested that Kenner ask Monroe to ask the blessing.
"'No,' said Kenner, 'I ask my own blessing at my own table.'
"And he did. On another occasion, in a single breath, Kenner concluded asking the blessing thus: 'And for all these benefits we thank thee, O Lord. Amen. Kick that blanked dog out from under the table!'
"We did not always stick to the road," he said. "There were no fences. When one track became too muddy or too rough with ruts we drove out on the prairie
OVERLAND TRAIN ORGANIZED TO LEAVE WESTERN MISSOURI FOR CALIFORNIA FOLLOWING THE DISCOVERY OF GOLD
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or made a new road through the woods. Wild hogs were through this region in large numbers. No one fattened hogs. The hogs lived on the mast, which they found plentiful in the woods. I have seen from the stage coach many a time a farmer shooting a hog, from which he would make bacon. I was a clerk at $6 a month, or rather a boy working in a store for that amount, when I was offered 40 cents a day and board as a stage coach driver. I got my employer's permission to accept the new job and went to work at it.
"We married earlier in those days than now. Nowadays a man is not an old bachelor until he passes 50 and a woman is not an old maid until she gets to be 40, and, you know, she is never that old before she is married. When I was young, girls married at 14 and boys before they were 20. My wife had $12.50 in silver and I had $151 in silver, which was our total wealth when we got married. We built a log cabin and went to work. The high price of living did not bother us then. It did not require so much for us to live. I don't think we were any less happy, however."
Bledsoe's Ferry is an historic crossing of the Osage in Benton county. In pioneer days, there was a trail and later a road which crossed Missouri diagonally from northeast to southwest. It began at Palmyra and ended in the Cherokee Nation. Bledsoe's Ferry was the halfway place. Near Bledsoe's was a large settlement of the Shawanoese or Shawnees.
Benton, the Prophet.
"Benton was not a Southern Democrat," said George G. Vest, "he was a National Democrat. He appreciated more thoroughly than any man of his era the possibilities of that vast country west of the Mississippi, destined to become the seat of empire on this continent. I heard him at a little town on the Missouri river, standing with his right arm extended, declare, with the air and tones of an ancient prophet, 'There is the east; there is the road to India.' And upon his bronze statue in Lafayette park in St. Louis today, upon the pedestal, are engraved these prophetic words. He declared, and men laughed at him when he said it, that this continent would be bound together by bands of iron which would carry our produce to the Pacific slope to feed the innumerable millions in Asia and the Orient."
In February, 1849, Senator Benton presented to the Senate his bill "to provide for the location and construction of a central national road from the Pacific ocean to the Mississippi river, with a branch of said road to the Columbia river." That was the year of the discovery of gold in California and of the great rush of gold seekers across the continent. In setting forth his views on the bill, Senator Benton used these prophetic words:
"When we acquired Louisiana, Mr. Jefferson revived this idea of establishing an inland communication between the two sides of the continent, and for that purpose the well-known expedition of Lewis and Clark was sent out by him. About thirty years ago I began to turn my attention to this subject. I followed the idea of Mr. Jefferson, Lasalle and others, and attempted to revive attention to their plans. I then expressed the confident belief that this route would be established, immediately with the aid of the American Government, and eventually, even without that aid, by the progress of events and the force of circumstances. I go for a national highway from the Mississippi to the Pacific, and go against all schemes of individuals or of companies, and especially those who come here and ask of the Congress Vol. 1- 9
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of the United States to give themselves and their assigns the means of making a road and taxing the people for the use of it.
"I propose to reserve ground for all sorts of roads, railway, plank, macadamized. More than that, room for a track by magnetic power, according to the idea stated, I believe by Professor Henry, and, to me, plausibly pursued by Professor Page, of the Patent Office, if that idea ripens into practicability, and who can undertake to say that any idea will not become practicable in the present ages.
"An American road to India through the heart of our country will revive upon its line all the wonders of which we have read and eclipse them. The western wilderness from the Pacific to the Mississippi will start into life under its touch. A long line of cities will grow up. Existing cities will take a new start. The state of the world calls for a new road to India, and it is our destiny to give it, the last and greatest. Let us act up to the greatness of the occasion and show ourselves worthy of the extraordinary circumstances in which we are placed by securing, while we can, an American road to India-central and national- for ourselves and our posterity, now and hereafter, for thousands of years to come."
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