Early, Texas - Trail Drivers of Texas : Interesting Sketches of Early Cowboys and The (part 15 of 20)

William G. Butler

When the trains began to haul their first long strings of clacking freight cars loaded with cattle, many ranchmen were happy that for their sons the getting of cattle to market in the future would be so simplified. Weeks on the trail, driving their slow moving herds, through days of sun and days of rain, with always nights on the great outside, were now over. But life has a way of compensating, and from these men who had been called on to use the best that was in them of courage and of resourcefulness through those years, there grew a line of sturdy, hardy men who could not have just happened to be as they were. They had been developed.

Among these Knights of the Cattle Trail - the old trail drivers - was William G. Butler, of Karnes county, known all the way up and down the trail as Bill Butler.

When Texas was young and raw and the bad man seemed ever ready to get the better of the good man, because there were more of them. Bill Butler came with his father and mother, Burnell and Sallie Butler, in 1852 to Texas from Scott county, Mississippi, he being eighteen years old at that time. The trip was made, as were all others in the days before the railroads had come, overland in wagons ; there were three ox-drawn wagons, the family and seven negro slaves. At the end of three months they reached the San Antonio River on December 24, 1852. Home was there made, they then began the raising of cattle and the taking up of wild and - then thought to be - almost worthless land.

W. G. Butler

In 1858 Mr. Butler was married to Miss Adline Burris and they made their home always in the same old county of Karnes, near Kenedy. Their family consisted of Newton G., who died March 12, 1895; Mrs. Helen Nicholes, Mrs. Lou M. Adams, Emmett, who died December 26, 1884; S. C, T. G., Cora, and William G., Jr., who died November 20, 1913. Mrs. Butler, who as a wife and mother was never found lacking in the courage and comfort these early days demanded, died April 7, 1908, and Mr. Butler four years later, June 14, 1912.

When the Civil War broke out, he enlisted and fought through its long years of struggles. Coming home at the close of war he found his cattle had scattered and were suffering from thieving bands who were accustomed to go through the country and drive along all the cattle they could find. One such band he located to the Northwest of San Antonio; gathering a number of men to go with him, they set out to overtake these thieves, the leader of whom was known to him to be as bold as he was evil (bad). Mr. Butler came on them with their big herd of cattle forty-five miles above San Antonio, they being in plain sight in a valley below, and when the thieves saw the pursuing party, they gathered in a group and stopped ; the Butler party kept advancing and when not far away the leader boldly spurred his horse forward to meet Mr. Butler who had done the same and they thus came face to face, both being ready for what we of late days would call *^an eventuality." The man recognized Mr. Butler and because he was known everywhere as having the courage of a Hon and nerve of steel and the most unswerving honesty and justice, the meeting proved to go after this manner: '^What do you want, Mr. Butler T' And the answer, **To cut my cattle from that herd," and **It is all right with me, sir," which was done. When some miles from San Antonio on the trip back, they met Buck Pettus and Tom O'Conner going to hunt for the thieves, Mr. Butler had just visited. Mr. Butler was asked to go back with them and, although he was homeward bound with his own cattle and the going back was hazardous, these men were his friends and he turned and went with them, sending his own herd on with his men. This is but an illustration of what it meant to be Bill Butler's friend, and if we were called on to name the dominating trait of this man, we should say * ' loyalty to a friend." If you were poor or if you were rich; if you were right or if you were wrong, and you were in trouble, he was with you and for you, and there were many men who were better men for having had this trust placed in them. In the early days when life was more often demanded and taken than now, he was ready always to help his friend, even risking his own life; in later years his resources and counsel were as freely given out to a needy friend, and there are many, who becoming stranded through the ceaseless buffetings of an unkind fate or maybe from a sudden stroke of ill fortune, found a new chance given them through Bill Butler's generosity, **for auld times' sake."

His first string of cattle were driven to Abilene, Kansas, from Karnes county in March, 1868, with the following hands : Eobert and Wash Butler, his brothers ; L. C. Tobin, Buck and Jess Little, John Sullivan, Jim Berry Nelson, Boxie White, John Brady, M. Benavides, Juan Concholer, Juan Mendez, and Levi and William Perryman, the latter two negroes. Only Tobin, Jess Little and the Perrymans survive today. From one to three herds Avere driven by him every year afterward up to 1886, in some of these he was his own boss and some were in charge of Pleas and Fayette Butler, A. J. (Bud) Jourdon and Alfonso Coy. Some of the herds were driven to Ogallala, Nebraska and Dodge City, Kansas.

For many years he and Major Seth Mabry of Aiistin, were partners and sent uj) many herds of cattle. During these years I should estimate that he sent 100,000 cattle up the trails. In Karnes county he owned nearly 75,000

After sixty-five years, there are left of the family who moved to Texas from Mississippi, Pleas Butler of Karnes county, Albert of Bee county, and Mrs. Euth Burris of Karnes county.

Seth Mabry

Major Seth Mabry, who was a major in the Confederate Army during the Civil War, was one of the pioneer drivers of cattle from Texas to Northern markets beginning immediately after the Civil "War and success crowned his efforts in this direction. He bought a large ranch in Mason and Kimble counties and built one of the most beautiful homes in Austin, Texas, in the seventies.

Seth Mabey J. B. Murrah Caught The Measles

In the spring of 1885 I went over the trail from the Williams Eanch in Brown county to Dodge City, Kansas. We had plenty of rain on this trip, and the creeks and rivers were all full and we had to swim. My brother, J. B. Murrah, was boss, and in our bunch were J. E. Murr, John Goode, Lavigor Goode, myself, and a negro boy named Buck Johnson. When we reached Fort Griffin, J. B. Murrah broke out with the measles, and had to return home. J. E. Murr took charge. Grass was fine and our horses fattened every day. As we neared Bear Creek, we came to where hunters had been in camp and had just killed a bear. One foot was lying in the main trail, and when the horses smelled the blood they seemed to telephone to the rear that they were coming, and they went. Goode and I were pointing, and I was riding a race mare bought from Judge Vardeman at Gatesville, and we succeeded in getting to the top of a hill where we threw them into a mill and the other boys brought up the drags.

Dan Mueeah

I came to Medina county with my parents from Alsace, France, in the year 1845, with other Castro Colonists, and first settled in Castroville. About a year afterwards we moved about fifteen miles northwest of Castroville to what was then known as ^^Vanderburg,'' and settled down, as I may say, in the midst of a tribe of tame Indians who had their camps about two miles from our location. When I was quite a young boy I remember seeing these Indians coming to our little burg with venison and bear meat and honey to trade to us for bread, whiskey and tobacco. In the little settlement of Quihi, about six miles from Vanderburg, there was a small saloon, and an Indian went there and got on a spree. He stayed around for about a week, drunk, but did not molest anyone. A man named Allen came along and found this Indian there and killed him without cause, and from that time on the Indians became hostile and killed many of the settlers.

Xavier Wanz And Ed Tschirhaedt

his death he bought two cows, and from this start we raised a nice stock of cattle. When the Civil War broke out I joined as a private and remained in the army until the close of that great struggle. When I returned from the war I found that our nice stock of cattle had dwindled down to only a few head. But, not discouraged, I made another start in that line and after several years of trading, buying and raising I accumulated several hundred head of cattle and fine horses.

lioe our corn in the open land, as there were no fences. We had no teams or implements to prepare our land. It ^\as a hard matter in those days to make a living, but we had to pull together - and pull we did. We had no school or church in our neighborhood, none nearer than Castroville, fifteen miles away, and through such misfortune I received no education. I am now 77 years of age. In conclusion I wish to say that I farmed and raised cattle and good horses from the time I was a boy until a few years ago, when I retired and sold my entire stock of cattle, horses and my brands, and divided my ranch lands among my children.

Experiences Of A Texas Pioneer

No resume, writeup or talk on the development of the cattle industry in Texas, or the Northwest for that matter, would be complete without giving considerable space to the achievements of the Snyder Brothers, D. H. and J. W., who have been residents of the state for more than sixty-five years, their operations extending from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific slope. While it is almost impossible to speak of the experiences and achievements of the one without tlie other, for they were not only and ever-changing experiences of Col. Dudley H. Snyder, the oldest brother and senior member of the firm, who was known for more than fifty years in all the great cattle marts of the country as the one man who could, and did, fill his contracts promptly, it mattered not the number of the thousands of head he had agreed to furnish nor the distance it was necessary to traverse in order to make the delivery. There was never any doubt in the minds of the contractors who had purchased cattle from him; they knew that delivery would be made on the day appointed and at the place agreed upon.

Col. D. H. Snyder was born in the grand old state of Mississippi in 1833, the year the stars fell. His father died in 1840, leaving a widow and four children, three sons and one daughter. The father, a prudent business man, had prepared for the eventuality of death, and left the dependent wife and mother in reasonably good circumstances, her property being composed of interestbearing securities, loans, etc. In 1841, the year following the death of the father, the great panic came upon the Republic and the studied investments of the widow were carried away on the swelling tide of misfortune, leaving the family in circumstances, from a financial standpoint, that were more meager than they had ever known before. Col. Snyder, being the eldest son, assisted in caring for his mother and the younger children, during the years that intervened, and in 1854 he came to Texas by way of Ozark, Ark., and Mansfield, La., having secured a position with a horse dealer who furnished him a horse to ride and the food he ate in consideration of his services with the herd. From this trader. Col. Snyder says he learned one of the most important lessons of his life, *^a man never makes money in selling a horse - the money is made in buying it."

Arriving in Texas, his first stop was at Eound Eock, in Williamson county, where he visited his grandfather. Dr. Thos. Hade, who also was a pioneer merchant. The good man gave the young grandson a job collecting accounts at ten per cent on the total amount collected. This work carried him on horseback all over Central West TexaSj and from the employment he realized a net earning of fifteen dollars per month. Finding this a very slow process toward fortune the young Mississippian concluded he would try farming the next year. Eenting some land from one of the settlers in the community where his grandfather resided, he set to work getting things in order to make a crop. He had no team, but succeeded in borrowing one work-ox from a neighbor with which to do his plowing. One not being enough, the resourceful pioneer caught up a wild steer from the range and with the team set to work breaking land and planting his crop. After gathering the crop he secured a team of five yoke of oxen, a heavy wagon and hauled cedar from mills in Bastrop county to Williamson and Travis counties. After that he made several trips to Missouri, returning at intervals with teams and new wagons, and these were loaded with apples and other delicacies unobtainable in Texas, which were sold at a good profit

Deciding to go into the horse business. Col. Snyder walked to San Antonio where he put all of his earnings into a small herd of Spanish ponies, which he drove to Missouri and exchanged for Missouri horses. These he brought back to Texas, and on account of their size and adaptability as draft horses he sold at good prices and a substantial gain over their purchase price, taking advantage of the valuable lesson he had learned from his first employer, i.e., that the money made in handling horses is to be made on the purchase and not the selling price.

In 1862 Col. Snyder received a proposition from Terrel Jackson, a wealthy planter and land owner of Chappell Hill, Washington county, proposing to put him in charge of a contract to deliver beef cattle to the Commissary Department of the Confederate Army, he having made a contract with Major Ward, of that department, to furnish the Confederate government with thousands of head for the purpose of providing meat for the soldiers. These cattle were driven to a point of delivery under the personal supervision of Col. Snyder through sparsely settled and dangerous country, and in order to reach their destination it was necessary to swim the herd across some of the greatest rivers of the South, one of these being the Mississippi. In order to expedite the work of crossing these rivers Col. Snyder secured tAvo **lead steers" which were trained swimmers, and upon arriving at a stream these water steers would plunge right in and the herd would follow without trouble.

After the close of the war, in which Col. Snyder did valiant service, both as a citizen furnishing beef and as a soldier, he turned his face to the great Northwest, and his herds year after year, in ever-increasing numbers, for more than a quarter of a century, wended their way toward the setting sun, followed by the sturdy cowboys of that day who placed their faith in God,. their trusty six-shooter and the ^^ chuck wagon."

In the spring of 1868 Col. Snyder employed Col. W. C. Dalrymple, of Georgetown, a noted scout and Indian fighter, to command his outfit, and with a large crew of cowboys, every one veteran, well provisioned and armed, started Northwest with a herd of fourteen hundred head of cattle. These were secured in Burnet, Llano, and Mason counties and were paid for in gold at the rate of $1.50 per head for yearlings and $2.50 for two-year-olds ; $3.50 for three-year-olds and cows and $7.00 for beef steers. On this drive Col. Snyder learned another important and remunerative lesson. It had been the custom of cattlemen when driving large herds of cattle across the unwatered plains to step and kill all the calves in the herd on the theory that they impeded the progress of the herd and were unable to stand the tortures of thirst. After putting in a day at this gruesome business

The Trail Drivers Of Texas 725

Col. Snyder ordered the men to proceed, and the calves reached their destination in as good condition as any of the balance of the cattle, and there were never any more calf-killing days with the Snyder men. The herd was driven through New Mexico and part of them into Colorado, the beef steers being sold at Fort Union, N. M., for $35.00 around, and the balance were finally sold to Goodnight & Curtis at $7.00 per head. This was in many respects, perhaps, the most notable, though not the longest, drive made by this famous stockman, in that the entire herd reached their destination, although the course of the drive led through an Indian infested region and the entire herd of the Chisholm outfit was captured by the redskins just after crossing the Texas-New Mexico border. Col. Snyder attributes this to the presence of Col. Dalrymple, who was a terror to the Indians, and the constant readiness of the entire personnel of the outfit to fight at the very first sign of trouble. So constant were they on the lookout that the drivers of the supply wagons were instructed to throw out any side-arms left in the wagons. This caused the men to always keep their guns in their scabbards, and consequently they were ever ready for any emergency that might arise. At this time there were no ranches from the Concho River to Las Vegas, N. M. The payment for these cattle when sold was made in greenbacks, which at that time was not worth its face value in Texas, and upon arriving home Col. Snyder was compelled to exchange same at seventyone cents on the dollar, but in spite of all handicaps he cleared ^ve thousand dollars on the trip.

In 1869 the drive to Abilene, Kansas, from Texas through the Indian Territory was made. There were fourteen hundred head in the herd when the drive began, but 140 head were captured by the Indians while passing through the Territory. A neat profit, however, was realized in spite of this misfortune. A claim was placed with the U. S. government for pay for the cattle lost to the Indians, and after the unwinding of much red tape and several years' time, the amount was finally paid. In 1871 and 1872 the drive was made to Wyoming. Cheyenne was then a great and popular trading point. These were uneventful years ; the trading was good and all went well with Col. Snyder and his men, but the following year 1873, was to see reverses.

Again in 1873 the Snyder outfit was headed for Wyoming with a splendid herd that it seemed might prove the most profitable of his career up to that time, but alas, upon arriving at his destination he found the greatest panic that the country had ever known in full blast. Friends that were worth millions the week before were almost paupers now - everything had been swept away and bankrupts were on every side. It was a time for cool heads and deliberate action. Col. Snyder made arrangements for money to winter his herd at three per cent per month, thirty-six per cent, per annum. This was dear interest to pay, but the money thus obtained saved himself and his associates. The next year he sold the cattle for $38.00 per head, thus being well paid for the trying experience that he had undergone during the winter previous.

In 1877 Col. Snyder made what proved to be the greatest deal of his experience and began huge operations that led to the making and losing of hundreds of thousands of dollars. A contract was made with J. W. Iliff, then noted banker and ranchman of Denver, who proposed to furnish ninety per cent of the money for the operation, Snyder Bros, to furnish ten per cent and handle all the details of the transaction. Iliff was to receive forty-five per cent of the profits and Snyder Bros, the remaining fifty-five per cent. The contract called for the delivery in Colorado of 17,500 head of two and three-year-old steers, and not only was this contract fulfilled, but a total of 28,000 head were handled by these wizards of the cattle industry before the season closed.

Before the contract was completed Mr. Iliff died and upon request of Mrs. Ilitf, Col. Snyder closed up the busines^^ of his deceased friend and business associate. The estate owned one of the greatest ranches in the Northwest, and Captain J. W. Snyder was placed in charge of this vast property and handled same in a most successful manner for nine years, the business growing into a great syndicate with thousands of head of the finest cattle and horses in the world within its confines.

Heat And Thikst

In 1885 Col. Snyder made his last great drive to the Northwest, and as a boy, this writer saw the splendid herd of ^yq thousand beef cattle in its seemingly endless column pass, as he sat on a gate-post and gazed in childish wonder and admiration at the stately herd and the gallant cowboys charged with their delivery in a distant state. Little they dreamed of the disappointment that awaited them ; little they suspected that even then events were shaping themselves that would not only preclude the vast returns from the years' work that were expected, but would wipe out accumulations studious men had spent years in gathering. From the broad plains of Texas the vast herds were picking their way across the trackless miles of terrain that separated them from the markets that promised such a rich return for labor expended. In Wyoming the junior member had handled the vast holdings successfully. An offer of one million dollars cash was received at headquarters for the property. Snyder Bros., who knew a good deal when they saw it, favored closing the trade; others interested in the holdings objected and their desires were respected by the big-hearted men who were responsible for the success of the undertaking.

Against their better judgment Snyder Bros, refused the proffered million for holdings in Wyoming, and in a few months the panic of 1886 began. Like a clap of thunder from the clear sky it came, and there were but few who were able to withstand its fury - ^huge fortunes that it had taken years to accumulate were swept away in a day and wealthy men were made penniless overnight. Everything was sacrificed by these giants of business acumen and honesty to protect those with whom they were associated and save them from absolute ruin.

Returning to Texas, Col. Snyder began anew to retrieve the great losses sustained in the terrible crash of the panic. Eanches were conducted in Cook, Mitchell, Stonewall, Lamb, and Hartley counties, the one in the last two counties named comprising 128,000 acres of land. All were well improved, having comfortable ranch houses, and numerous wells for the furnishing of water for the stock. The business was continued until 1894, when it was closed out and one of the men knew as much about the cattle business as anyone who had ever followed in the wake of the lowing herd, retired to a quiet life.

This closes a brief review of the experiences of Col. Dudley H. Snyder in the cattle business, but there are other activities in which he has been engaged that gives a larger vision of the real heart that beats within this man of big affairs than any that have gone before; a few of these we will mention here. Throughout the years now far gone he has been a friend of the friendless and many a successful business man owes his success to the kindly spirit of Col. Snyder and his good and faithful wife. A staunch Methodist, he has given unstintedly and repeatedly of his means to her institutions and Southwestern University has been particularly an object of his benefactions. Many who have received their training within those walls owe their privilege of doing so to Colonel and Mrs. Snyder, whose home has been a mecca for those who come to teach or to learn throughout the years of its splendid history.

September 20, 1905, Col. Snyder suffered the total loss of his vision and now after a well-spent life, although he sits with, **the door shut in the street,'' the ^* silvery chord" of his life of happiness and activity is just as sweet as in the days gone by. The companionship of the devoted wife of his youth, his children, and friends makes the remaining days of this grand old cattleman, scholar, and friend of man, a pleasant one, and they, in turn, know that his pilgrimage here has been a benediction to them. May his fourscore years ripen into the fifth and his good deeds continue to bring their reward.

Since the above sketch was written Col. Snyder has crossed the Great Divide to roam on fairer ranges. He died at his home in Georgetown, Texas, in August, 1921.

There are thousands of people in Texas today to whom the name at the head of this page would seem unfamiliar, but would recognize our subject at once under the familiar designation, **Buck" Pettus, by which he was known all over the state. In the Southern counties he was particularly well known, for it is there that his entire life was spent.

His father, John F. Pettus, was a Virginian of Scotch- English ancestry, born in 1808, and was brought to Texas in his fourteenth year by his parents. The family settled at San Felipe, in Austin county, where they were granted a league of land and engaged in farming and stock raising. John F. Pettus was a man of great daring and enterprise, and took an active part in the early struggles of the Texan colonists for their liberty. He was one of Milam's 216 men who were in the storming of San Antonio in 1835, and was also at the battle of Conception, where ninety-two men, under Captain Fannin, met and repulsed Morales' battalion, the flower of the Mexican army; was at the battle of San Jacinto, in which the power of Mexico was broken and her warrior president was captured. He took part in many of the minor engagements of the war, and after its close had but little opportunity to lay aside his arms, for, for many years the settlements were constantly harassed by Indian and Mexicans bands, and the fighting men of the ** colony" found ample use for their nerve and skill in border warfare. John Pettus married Miss Sarah York, born in Alabama, but a resident of Texas since her early infancy. They were married in 1836 and became the parents of six children, of whom our subject was the eldest.

W. A. Pettus was born in Austin county, near the town of Industry, November 17, 1838. He attended schools in Austin county for a few months, and was several sessions in attendance on those of DeWitt county, where his parents moved when he was in his ninth year. After his seventeenth year his education received no further attention, for he had tired of schooling and his help was needed in handling and caring for his father's cattle. To this work his attention was exclusively given until the beginning of the war. He enlisted in the 21st Cavalry under Captain Martin M. Kinney, and leaving the cattle, which he personally owned, with those of his father, marched forth with his brave companions to meet enemies of the Confederacy. He was with Gen. Marmaduke in his unsuccessful assault upon the Federal forces at Cape Girardeau, Missouri, and after this engagement was sent south with his command to contend with Banks, wlio was then pressing through the Eed River country on his memorable * ^ expedition. ' ' Skirmishes were of daily occurrence, with occasionally a fight worthy of being termed a battle; the most important of all being that of Yellow Bayou.

When the war ended Mr. Pettus returned to his home and began the work of gathering his scattered cattle and getting his herd, though sadly reduced in size, in shape for a satisfactory resumption of business. This was a task of no small difficulty, for the range was open in every direction, and had to be thoroughly worked over to discover the numerous strays that had wandered into other herds. He was married February 4, 1866, choosing for his mate Miss Myra A. Lott, one of the fairest flowers of Southern Texas. She was the daughter of Thomas P. C. Lott, one of the pioneer settlers of Goliad county, and about the first of its citizens to engage extensively in cattle raising. Mrs. Pettus was born in Harrison county, Texas, April 24, 1842, and shortly after her birth her parents moved to Jackson county, continuing westward a year later to Goliad county, where they established the ranch which is now the Pettus' home.

After his marriage Mr. Pettus continued to reside with his father, who was too feeble to attend to his own business interests - a task which devolved upon the son. Mr. Pettus built and occupied a home of his own in 1870, in Bee county.

Mr. Pettus, when he moved to his Bee county ranch, was the owner of about 800 head of cattle; but he continued to manage his father's herd until 1873, receiving for his trouble a one-third interest in the cattle. His first beginning in the business had been secured, as we have seen, through his personal efforts, and in his subsequent transactions he had never any great amount of capital to operate upon. Therefore, he had no opportunity to engineer any extensive deals; but by close attention to his business he prospered and the extent and value of his property gradually increased. He had, all his life, been a ranchman, a cattle grower of the oldest and best type; but never a speculator. He followed in the footsteps of his father, who certainly can be accepted as the true type of a cattleman, since his history as such antedates the history of the state, and even of the republic which preceded it. The colonists at San Felipe had no cattle except a few which were purchased along the Louisiana line, and John F. Pettus got his first cattle in exchange for horses driven by himself and Captain John York to Louisiana. There were no ^'cowboys'' in those days, and the first to be given that name were a number of reckless young fellows who would make trips into the Rio Grande country, gather cattle among the Mexicans and drive them East in search of a market.

W. A. Pettus always conducted his business in an honest and honorable manner, believing that ill-gotten gains can never prove of actual benefit to their possessor. His father never branded a *' maverick" in his life, and neither would he permit his son to do so, and the Pettus family - father and sons - have always stood in readiness to assist in putting down cattle stealing or any other lawlessness. The reputation earned by W. A., or ^^Buck" Pettus, in this work of necessity and general importance is universally known throughout the Southwest. He was for years a terror to the cow thief, the ^* rustler" and evil-doers of other descriptions, and aided very materially in making the sinister efforts of such characters unsafe and consequently unpopular.

The banner years of our subject's life, so far as his record as cattle grower goes, were 1877-88. His herd then numbered about 10,000 head ; but the depression in price led Mr. Pettus to reduce his holdings considerably. He possessed a large number of cattle, mules and horses, and about 60,000 acres of land altogether. His home farm embraced about 325 acres of good bottom land, all in cultivation. He had also another farm of about the same size, and some smaller ones, which bring the total area of his farming lands np to nearly 900 acres. He was interested to some extent, in property of other descriptions, and with Messrs. Levi, and Maetze, owned the Bank of Goliad.

Mr. Pettus died at his ranch home in Goliad county, February 20, 1922. He is survived by his wife and seven children, three daughters and four sons, all married, as follows: Mesdames AJMcFaddin of Victoria, G. B. Eeed and John Dial, and W. F. Pettus, R. L. Pettus, T. W. Pettus and J. M. Pettus.

The subject of this sketch, generally known as Dick Head, was born in Saline county, Missouri, April 6, 1847. When six years old his father moved to Caldwell county, Texas. When he was thirteen years of age young Head entered the employ of Bullard & McPhetridge, who were preparing to move a herd of cattle to Missouri, but the breaking out of the Civil War prevented the drive and the herd was sold to the Confederate government. At the age of sixteen he entered the Confederate army and served until the close of the war, and after farming for about a year Mr. Head entered the service of Col. John J. Meyers, the pioneer drover of Texas, who took the first ^herds to Abilene, Kansas, which place was then a mere post containing but half a dozen habitations. Mr. Head camped a herd of cattle on the spot where the city of Wichita, Kansas, now stands, when not a white man resided there, but as many Indians as there are now white inhabitants. He began working for Col. Meyers at a salary of $30 per month, which was steadily advanced until the third year, when he took entire control of his employer's trail business at a salary of $1,800 per year and expenses. He continued in this position for seven years, during which time he drove herds to Abilene, Wichita, Great Bend, Ellsworth and Dodge City, Kansas, and also to Cheyenne, Wyoming, Salt Lake City, Utah, and the Humbolt Eiver in Nevada, across to California, and to the various Indian agencies on the Upper Missouri River and the Black Hills country. His business relations with Colonel Meyers were terminated in 1873 by the death of the latter gentleman. In 1875 he assumed the general management of the extensive cattle business of Ellison, Dewees & Bishop of San Antonio, handling from 30,000 to 50,000 cattle annually. In the spring of 1878 the firm dissolved, and Mr. Head formed a partnership with Mr. Bishop for the handling of the cattle on the ranch and on the trail. The firm of Bishop & Head existed until 1883, when the prevailing high prices induced Mr. Head to insist upon a sale of the partnership property, which was accomplished over the friendly protest of Mr. Bishop. In May, 1883, Mr. Head accepted the management of the Prairie Cattle Company, the largest concern of the kind in the world. He filled this position for three years, during which time he marketed from the ranches of the company 54,000 head of cattle, netting $1,300,000, and branded for the company from its herds more than 83,000 calves, and after paying all expenses, interest on debenture bonds, and also paying dividends to its stockholders amounting in three years to 42 per cent of the capital invested, the company had about 5,000 more cattle than when he assumed the management of its business, and an undivided surplus of about $80,000. His salary for his service with the company was $20,000 per annum. AVhen he severed conncc-

In 1886 Mr. Head was elected president of the International Eange Association, representing the live stock industry of the plains, from the Gulf of Mexico to British Columbia, and west to the Pacific coast. He was one of the original promoters of the American Cattle Trust, and maintained his headquarters in Denver, Colorado, while acting as general manager of that association. He was principal owner of the Phoenix Farm and Ranch Co., of Mora county. New Mexico, which was one of the most systematically conducted properties in the entire West. Mr. Head was also a large stockholder in the Fort Stockton Livestock & Land Company of Texas, which owned 50,000 acres of land, 20,000 of which was under irrigation. He also owned a farm of above 700 acres at his old home in Caldwell county, Texas.

In 1892 Mr. Head moved from Denver, Colorado, to his famous Phoenix Ranch near Watrous, New Mexico, and from there to Las Vegas in the fall of 1901. He died April 8, 1906, leaving his wife, two daughters, and a son, R. G. Head, Jr.

Sketch Of J. M. Choate

The subject of this sketch, known to all the old cowmen as '^Monroe'' Choate, was born in Tennessee, April 28, 1822. He was married to Miss Mary Elizabeth Adkinson, June 2, 1844, and they had ten children, eight boys and two girls. Only one of these children is living today, S. P. Choate of Kennedy, Texas, who was next to the youngest child.

Mr. Choate moved to Karnes county in 1855 and settled on Hondo Creek, where he lived until his death, which occurred August 9, 1899. He was buried in the Runge cemetery.

Monroe Choate was one of the largest cattle operators in that section of the state, and often drove cattle to Louisiana before the trail opened to northern markets. When the driving of stock to Kansas started he was among the first to send cattle up the trail. He was a man of many sterling qualities, generous, whole-souled, thoughtful of his men, full of wit and humor, and the life of his outfit on the trail and in camp. He was highly esteemed by all who knew him, and after the trail driving days were over he settled down to a quiet and active life on his place in Karnes county.

Several of his sons were trail drivers, among them we mention, J. H. Choate, born in Mississippi, August 29, 1847, died at Helena, Karnes county, Texas, and is buried there; D. C. Choate, born February 17, 1851, in Leon county, Texas, died in Dodge City, Kansas, in 1878, and is buried there ; K. B. Choate, born February 1, 1858, in Karnes county, Texas, died in Dodge City, Kansas, July 4, 1884 and is buried at Goliad, Texas.

W. M. Choate

W. M. Choate was born in Leon county, Texas, May 14, 1854, moved to Karnes county with his parents in 1856 and lived there continuously until 1889, then moved to Del Eio, and worked cattle in Mexico for three years. He was for two years a deputy United States marshal at Del Rio. In 1895 he returned to Karnes county, and was appointed inspector for the Cattle Raisers' Association, which position he held for fifteen years, living at Karnes City and Cuero during the time. Later he made his home in San Antonio for three years, and then moved to Beeville where he died in June, 1915.

Mr. Choate made his first trip up the trail when he was fifteen years old with his father's herd. Later he drove horses for himself to Kansas. The greater portion of his life was spent in stock business. On January 9, 1884, he was happily married to Miss Pollie Porter, who still survives him and resides at Pettus, Texas.

Crossed The Arkansas River In A Skiff

James Henry Saul, known among the old timers as Little Jim Saul, was born six miles from Huntsville in Walker county, Texas, June 26, 1849. While he was quite small his parents moved to Williamson county, and located on the San Gabriel, twelve miles above Georgetown, where they lived for two years, then moved to Brushy Creek, about twelve miles below Round Rock.

Mr. Saul grew up in the cattle business. When he was 23 years old, in 1872, he took a herd of 1,000 head of his own cat- 1 1 e from Williamson county to Baxter Springs, Kansas. Among his hands were Buck and

His next drive was made in 1879 to Ogallala, Nebraska, with 2,800 head, and in 1879 he drove 2,900 head to Caldwell, Kansas. On one of these trips, when Mr. Saul reached the Arkansas River he found it on a rampage and about five hundred yards wide. The ferry had washed away, so he employed some Indians to make a skiff out of a cottonwood log, and the men and supplies were taken across in this skiff, while the wagon was taken down and floated across. The herd took the water and made it by swimming.

In liis trail driving Mr. Saul had no trouble with the inspectors, and very little with the Indians. When the redskins asked him for a beef they got it.

Mr. Saul now resides on his ranch near Bandera, Texas, and delights to meet up with comrades of those good old days w^hen ^' going up the trail'' was in order.

When The Temperature Was 72 Degrees Below Zero

My father, Joseph H. French, and family left Philadelphia in the late fifties and came west to the Ohio river, then down the Ohio to the Mississippi to New Orleans, then to Galveston by steamer, from Galveston to Columbus by rail, thence to San Antonio by four-mule ambulance. During the Civil War father had a contract for delivering beef cattle to the Confederate army. He was paid in Confederate money and it broke him. After my father's death, my mother took my brother, sister and myself back to Philadelphia.

Wyoming and while on his way back to Texas, he came to his old home in Philadelphia to visit us. I was then a boy in school, but my brother's narratives about trail driving interested me so that I determined to come to Texas the first opportunity that presented itself. In the spring of 1876 I landed in Austin, and the first sight

I had of the trail was that wonderful herd of wild steers Ab Blocker tells about, in the first volume of this book, that were roped on the Perdinales by John and Bill Blocker. It was a sight and it is a great pity that a picture of that herd was not made and kept.

In 1878 a small outfit left Austin in charge of my brother and we received a herd of steers and a herd of cows and calves on the head of Camp Creek in Coleman county. We had a trail wagon in which to carry the calves that were born on the trail. The herd was owned by Col. Wm. Day. We reached Dodge City, Kansas, in good shape, but it was a wretched trip as the calves gave us a lot of trouble. The next year we started a herd of steers from Kamble county for Major Seth Mabry, going to Ogallala, Nebraska. There the herd was re-arranged and we started with 4,000 steers for the Cheyenne Agency in Dakota. Half of the herd went to Bismarck, Dakota. The herd we drove to the Cheyenne Agency was for the United States government and were fed to the Sioux Indians. One day early in December an Indian courier came to our camp with a message from the commander of the post saying that if the mercury went 28 degrees below zero he wanted 250 steers that day, to commence killing for the Indians' winter beef. We delivered the steers and the Indians killed them all in one day. The meat was exposed to the cold for a few days and then stored in an immense warehouse to be issued out to the Indians every week. During the kilHng period about 800 steers were slaughtered. About 7,000 Indians were present at the killing. It was no uncommon sight to see a squaw at one end of an entrail and a dog at the other end, both eating ravenously. When the killing was completed we had about 600 steers that had to be crossed over the Missouri River on the ice, which was then about 28 inches thick across the channel. After this was done we had to deliver the horses at Fort Thompson. At this time the government thermometer at Peeve recorded 72 degrees below zero. On our way home we were in that fearful blizzard which froze the bay at Galveston and ruined the orange trees in Florida. I have never liked cold weather since that time.

History Of An Old Cowman

Robert Samuel Dalton, a wealthy stockman of Palo Pinto, controlling extensive and important business interests, wherein he displays excellent business ability.

Me. And Mrs. Egbert S. Dalton

marked enterprise, and keen discernment, was born March 8, 1859, on his father's ranch on the Brazos River, eighteen miles north of Palo Pinto county, Texas. His parents were Marcus Lafayette and Liicinda Gamble Dalton. The Dalton family, together with the family of Rev. Slaughter, father-in-law of Robert Dalton, were among the oldest and most noted in Northwestern Texas. Marcus L. Dalton was born in Tennessee and came to Texas in 1838, locating first in Red River county, whence he removed to Palo Pinto county in 1855, settling at the mouth of Rock Creek on the Brazos River. It was a wild and unsettled country, infested by hostile Indians, who made raids into this locality from their reservations in Indian Territory. Mr. Dalton was an excellent business man and prospered in the cattle business notwithstanding the fact that frequently his cattle were stolen by the Indians. As the years passed his lands and cattle increased in value. He made many trips over the trail with his cattle to Kansas and on returning from one of these trips he was killed by the Indians, November 4, 1870, in Loving's Valley, six miles north of the present town of Mineral Wells and twenty miles east of his home on the Brazos. He had left Weatherford, Texas, and from that town he was accompanied by James Eedfield and James McCaster. The latter was driving a bunch of horses, while Mr. Redfield and Mr. Dalton each had a wagon and team. They were attacked by the Indians at the point mentioned and all three men were killed, the Indians taking everything they could carry but leaving an iron-bound leather trunk in which there was $11,000. In Mr. Dalton 's shoes were $11,000 in bills of large denomination, which was not taken by the Indians.

Mr. Dalton of this review still has one of the bows from which was shot the arrow that killed his father. The three men were scalped and their bodies mutilated in an inhuman manner.

Robert S. Dalton was reared upon the home ranch to the life of the cattle trade, his boyhood days being fraught with exciting incidents and dangers characteristic to that period in the development of Palo Pinto county, when it was a largely unsettled district and the Indians were on the war-path. In the course of time he embarked in the cattle business on his own account and his entire career as dealer in the stock has been successful and free from financial embarrassment of any kind even in times of widespread financial depression. He is today one of the largest taxpayers and one of the wealthy citizens of that part of the state. His first in- dependent venture in the business was when he was fifteen years of age. His mother gave him twenty-five calves and it was at this time that he started the brand L. A. D. ; which has ever since been the brand he has used.

On the 8th of October, 1879, in Palo Pinto county, Mr. Dalton was married to Miss Millie Slaughter, the fifth daughter of Eev. Geo. W. Slaughter, a historical character of Western Texas. She was educated at Emporia, Kansas, and at Staunton, Virginia, and is a lady of superior culture and refinement. Her father, Eev. Slaughter, was trusted lieutenant of Houston during the early days of Texas and afterwards a Missionary Baptist minister for more than half a century and a devoted exponent of the Gospel. He was also a physician and practiced medicine, thus carrying healing to the body as well as to the souls of men.

At the time of his marriage, Mr. Dalton started with his bride for Western Texas, where at the foot of the great plains on the Salt Fork of the Brazos he established himself in the cattle business. He took over 800 head of his own cattle in addition to several thousand belonging to his mother and brothers, all of which he herded on a free ranch, such as was common in those days. He lived there for five years. In 1884 he sold his cattle on the ranch for fifty-one thousand dollars and returned to Palo Pinto county, where he purchased the Kyle ranch. Later he sold this place and for some time engaged in the business of buying and selling cattle. His next transaction of note was the purchase of his present ranch six miles north of the town, for which he paid eleven thousand dollars, but which has gradually increased in value through the addition of other tracts of land and the improvements he has placed upon it. His ranch now comprises over nine thousand acres all in one body. This is a beautiful ranch located in the rich Brazos Valley and is stocked with immense herds of fine cattle. In 1909 Mr. Dalton removed from his residence on the

Unto Mr. and Mrs. Dalton have been born eleven children, namely. Otto D., George Webb, Marcus, Lafayette, Millie Eobert, Sarah Jane, Georgia Lee, William Carroll Slaughter, Columbus Charles (deceased), John Bell, Vivian Euth, and Mary Allie Leta. Mr. Dalton is a member of the Knights of Pythias fraternity, prominent in the organization, and enjoys the unqualified esteem of his brethren of the fraternity and of the general public as well. His life history, especially concerning his boyhood days, if written in detail, w^ould furnish a most thrilling story. He has lived to see great changes while in Western Texas as the comforts and conveniences of a civilization have been introduced, while the business methods of a settled district have given place to those of pioneer times. In all his business transactions he has displayed marked ability, strong purposes and unfaltering diligence and his investments have been carefully made so that he has gathered therefrom a rich financial return.

In the past year oil has been discovered on Mr. Dalton's Palo Pinto county ranch ard he has today from his lease royalties an income of $800 per day.

The old ranch is not what it used to be before these wells were discovered, so far as his cattle interests are concerned. He will not be permitted to raise any more herds of cattle on this ranch as it is now a great oil field.

Indians Got Their Horses

I was born in Leon county, Texas, November 25, 1849, in a log house which my father and neighbors built. In those days when a new family moved into a community everybody attended the *'log rolling'' and helped to put up a comfortable log cabin for the newcomers to live in. Our farm was just in the edge of the timber and the Leon prairie spread out in front of our cabin and we had a ^ne view for miles. There were no fences then, everything ran loose. People depended on bells and hobbles to keep their work animals near home. My father sold this place and bought land in Burleson county, and we lived there until some time in 1864, when we moved out to McCulloch county, on the Colorado Eiver. Our nearest postoffice was Camp San Saba, about twenty-five miles distant. My father's brother-in-law, Judge John Beasley, had moved out there from Missouri, and father decided to make his home there too, but after a time the Indians became so troublesome he concluded to move again, and we went to Kendall county in 1865. Marion Hodges, well known in Bandera county for many years, came along with us. His wife, Nancy A. Hodges, was my father's niece. We rented a log house from Charlie Sughart on the east side of the Cibolo, and the next year we raised a fine crop of corn right in the heart of the present town of Boerne. We often went out and caught wild cattle and made good steers of them after they became gentle.

In 1869 I went back to McCulloch county with Jim Dophlemier and Billie Beasley to help Newt Beasley gather a herd of cattle to drive to Kansas. I had to ride a mule. Her name was not Maud, but she proved herself to be Maud's equal. When we reached Newt Beasley 's we found George Chamberlain, Tom Keese, Jim Parker, Dick Hudson, Charlie Ellington, Jeff Singleton helping to gather the cattle. Jeff Singleton, Newt Beasley and myself went out to gather some cattle one day and rode up on three Indians. One of them had a very pretty striped blanket and before Newt could prevent him, Jeff made a dash for the Indian, saying that he was going to have that blanket. He ran right up to the Indian, with liis pistol in his hand, but when he saw Iavo of them armed, with guns he turned his horse quickly and started back toward us. The Indian with the blanket shot him in the back with an arrow. The other Indians then began shooting at Jeff, and Newt went to his assistance, having only an old cap and ball pistol with three loads in it. The Indians beat a retreat and got away. I was only a boy in my teens, and riding that mule I thought my time had come, but I kept up with the other boys. We

I He Early Days

Newt Beasley and a man named Gotcher had just bought twenty fresh cow ponies in Coryell county, and had them out grazing. When we went out to bring them in to camp about fifteen Indians dashed in between the boys and the herd of horses, and they had to run for hiding as they had no arms to fight the redskins with. The Indians got every horse they had for the drive, and left Beasley and Gotcher with a thousand cattle rounded up and only about twelve head of tired, worn-out horses to

When I got back to Boerne in Kendall county, William and Henry Deaters were preparing to go down to Powder Horn after a steam engine for their mill, and I

The Chuck Wagon Came Later

I have a small ranch at Pipe Creek, in Bandera county, where I am raising a few cows, horses and goats. If any of the old trail drivers ever get lost up on the Bandera road I want them to hunt me up.

George Webb Slaughter

George Webb Slaughter was a native of Lawrence county, Mississippi, his birth occurring May 10, 1811, William Slaughter, his father, was a Virginian, born in 1781, his death occurring in Sabine county, Texas in 1851. The elder Mr. Slaughter was a farmer and had seen service in the war of 1812, fighting with Jackson at New Orleans. He married Miss Nancy Moore, of South Carolina, and was the father of eight children, four of them boys. In 1821 the family moved to Copiah county,

The Trail Deivers Of Texas

Mississippi, and four years later started to Texas, but stopped for a time in Louisiana, and it was while living in the latter state that George Webb Slaughter received the only schooling (three weeks in all) which he ever had an opportunity to obtain. In 1830 the Slaughter family crossed the Sabine Eiver and settled in what was then the Mexican state of Coahuila and Texas. At that time the country east of Austin was divided into municipalities governed principally by military laws. Petty ofhcers were in charge at the different points and alcaldes, or mag- istrates, were appointed by them, while all matters of importance were referred to the District Commandant. Col. Piedras was in charge of the country along the Sabine, with headquarters at Nacogdoches. He was a man of narrow and decided views and but poorly qualified to exercise authority over a people reared in the enjoyment of American liberty. There was no tolerance of religious belief beyond a blind adherence to the Catholic church and an arrest by Col. Piedras of several Protestant clergymen, who had attempted to hold services in the colony, precipitated one of the first conflicts between the colonists and the Mexican government. G. W.

The Trail Drivers Of Texas 751

Slaughter, then a boy of nineteen or twenty, took an active part in the armed resistance to this act of tyranny, and his relation of the events which followed is vivid and interesting. A commissioner, sent to Col. Piedras to intercede for the prisoners' release, was treated with contempt, and Col. Bean Andrews, who repaired to the City of Mexico on the same errand, was thrown into prison. Despairing of obtaining recognition and relief through pacific methods, the colonists held a mass meeting at San Augustine about June 1, 1832, and resolved to take matters into their own hands and release the prisoners, if need be, through force of arms. Preparations for this decisive step went quietly on, and in a short time 500 armed men met within two miles of Nacogdoches and sent Col. Piedras under a flag of truce, a demand for the prisoners' liberation. In reply a company of cavalry came out with a counter demand for the surrender of the whole party. Immediate hostilities followed. The Mexicans were driven back to town after one or two ineffectual stands, and eventually forced to evacuate the fort and seek safety in flight. Quite a number of Mexicans were killed, but only three Americans, one of whom was G. P. Smith, an uncle of G. W. Slaughter. At that time the Angelina Eiver was swollen with recent rains, its bottom lands flooded and impassable except at one point, some eighteen miles from the fort, where a bridge had been built. Here all the men who were provided with horses, were directed to hasten and stop the retreat of the panic-striken Mexicans, while the remainder of the force followed on thus bringing the enemy between two fires and compelling the entire command to surrender. Col. Piedras was allowed to return to Mexico under promise of excusing the colonists' acts and interceding for their pardon, but he proved false to his trust and his report of the affair at Nacogdoches only still further incensed the government. Mr. Slaughter was under fire for the first time in this skirmish or battle. During the temporary lull which followed previous to the general outbreak of war, he was occupied in freighting between Louisiana and Texas points, and one of his loads - perhaps the most valuable of them all, consisted of the legal library of Sam Houston, which he hauled to Nacogdoches in 1833. He had previously met Houston while attending court at Natchitoches, La., and he mentions the fact that upon this occasion the future president of the Texas Republic was dressed in Indian garments and decked out in all the glory of scalp-lock, feathers and silver ornaments. Mr. Slaughter was an earnest admirer of Houston and was more than pleased when the latter assumed control of the Texan forces. The company in which he enlisted reported to Houston for duty at San Antonio, and was in several engagements which immediately followed, among others the famous ^^ Grass Fight," one of the hottest of the war. Houston then advanced toward Mexico, but halted near Goliad upon intelligence that Santa Anna was approaching with an army of 15,000 men. Col. Fannin with the forces under his command was encamped in a strong position in a bend of the river below Goliad. Travis was in the Alamo with those gallant spirits who were to remain with him faithful and uncomplaining until death. Houston, safe in the consciousness that on the open prairie lay perfect safety from beleaguerment, watched the approach of the Mexican army and pleaded with Fannin and Travis to abandon the fortifications and join him. Mr. Slaughter served as a courier, making several trips to Fannin and Travis in the Alamo. On one of the latter, in obedience to instructions from Gen. Houston, he delivered into the hands of Col. Travis an order to retreat. After reading it, Travis consulted his brother officers, acquainted his men with the contents of the message, and drew a line with his sword and called upon all who were willing to remain with him and fight, if need be, to the death, to cross it. The decision was practically unanimous to defend the fort to the last extremity. Only one of the little band chose to make his way to the main army; he was let down from the walls and made his escape. Travis hoped for reinforcements that would enable him to inflict upon Santa Anna a bloody and decisive repulse that would check him on the outskirts of the settlements, or, failing in this, detain his army a sufficient length of time to enable the colonists to mass an adequate force to meet him successfully in the open field. He fully realized the peril of his situation and concealed nothing from his comrades. They determined to stake their lives upon

Mr. Slaughter returned to headquarters and reported the result of his mission. Later while on a hazardous trip to the Alamo, then known to be invested with Santa Anna's army, he encountered Mrs. Dickinson and her negro slave, survivors of the massacre, who had been released by the Mexican commandant and instructed to proceed to General Houston with tidings of Travis' fate.

The butchery of Fannin and his men followed shortly after, and Santa Anna pressed on after General Houston, who had retreated to the east side of the Brazos. Meantime Mr. Slaughter was employed in carrying messages and in procuring subsistence for the army, accepting many dangerous missions and performing them all to the satisfaction of his commanding officer. History relates how Houston retreated and how the Mexican army followed until they were led into the trap at San Jacinto, where the tables were turned and Santa Anna defeated and captured, his troops slaughtered, and his invasion brought to an ignominious end. The victory at San Jacinto was not the end of hostilities; but, following it, there came a breathing spell, of which Mr. Slaughter hastened to take advantage. Gaining a leave of absence, under promise of returning at once in case he was needed, he hastened to his home, and on the 12th day of the following October he was married to Miss Sarah Mason, to whom he had been engaged for some time. The ceremony was only deferred to this date because under the disorganized state of the country there was no officer with legal authority to perform it. The marriage of Mr. Slaughter was the first ceremony of the kind under the sanction of the Republic which he had been instrumental in establishing. The newly wedded couple settled in Sabine county, and Mr. Slaughter resumed freighting for a livelihood, engaging in the employ of the new government.

At the time of the Cherokee troubles, in 1839, the eastern counties organized companies in pursuance of President Houston's orders, and Mr. Slaughter was elected captain of the company organized in Sabine. The newly recruited forces assembled at Nacogdoches, and in a body marched to reinforce General Rusk, who was stationed with a small force on the Neches River, near where Chief Bowles was encamped with 1,600 Cherokees. Two days were spent in an ineffectual attempt to arrange a treaty and the Indians dropped back from their position, but were followed and a fight ensued in which the Cherokees lost eleven killed and the whites only three, though fourteen of their number were wounded. The Indians again retreated and the following day there was a general battle; Chief Bowles was killed, with several hundred of his followers, while the remainder of the Cherokees fled westward, being followed to the Bois d'Arc fork of the Trinity, three or four days' march, by companies of Captains Slaughter and Todd.

The need which had prompted the organization of an armed force now no longer existing, the men disbanded, and Mr. Slaughter returned to the labors and attendant comforts of home life. In 1852 he moved to Freestone county, intending to turn his attention to stock-raising. He brought with him ninety-two head of cattle and established a ranch near the old town of Butler, and in five years he resided there his herd increased to 600 head. Mr. Slaughter believed there were better opportunities to be gained by removal further west, and in 1857 drove his herds to Palo Pinto county, locating ^ve miles north of the town of that name, at that time known as Golconda. He bought 2,000 acres of land and located by certificate 960 acres more, and the ranch located at that time was thereafter his home, though his residence at this point was not continuous. In 1858-59 Mr. Slaughter was occupied in raising stock and running a small farm, but the following year moved his stock to Young county, at a point near the Ross Indian Eeservation. He had then 1,200 head of cattle and a small bunch of horses, but lost forty head of the latter through theft by Indians in 1860, and for these and other property stolen, he later filed claims against the government aggregating $6,500.

Mr. Slaughter's holdings of cattle had increased in 1867-68 to such an extent that he decided to sell the greater portion of them, and he accordingly disposed of 12,000 to James Loving and Charles Elvers at a uniform price of $6.00. Elvers was afterwards killed by the Indians while in camp in Jackson, in June, 1871. Following the sale of his cattle Mr. Slaughter formed a partnership with his son, C. C. Slaughter, and began driving cattle through to Kansas. The first drove only consisted of 800 head, but they brought the neat little sum of $32,000. For the seven years up to and including 1875, the herds of Slaughter & Son were driven to Kansas points and thence shipped to St. Louis and Chicago. The drove in 1870 was probably the largest, numbering 3,000 head, and the returns from this herd footed up $105,000. In 1870 Mr. Slaughter moved his family to Emporia, Kansas, in order that his children might have the advantage of the superior facilities at that point, but in 1875 he returned to Texas and resumed operations on his old ranch in Palo Pinto county. The number of cattle handled and the money received from their sale can be expressed in round figures as follows :

1868, 800 head, $32,000.00; 1869, 2,000 head $90,000.00; 1870, 3,000 head, $105,000.00 ; 1871, 2,000, $66,000.00 ; 1873, 2,000 head $66,000.00; 1874, 2,000 head, $60,000.00; 1865, 1,000, $45,000.00. Such figures as these go a long way toward impressing the reader with the importance of the cattle business twenty years ago. In 1876 Mr. Slaughter dissolved partnership with his son, C. C. Slaughter, taking into business with him another son, Peter, and in 1878 they sold and shipped 4,000 cattle. Six years later on account of declining health, Mr. Slaughter disposed of his cattle interests and afterwards devoted his time to the care of his ranch and other property. He had at his Palo Pinto ranch 1,280 acres of land, and owned 1,300 acres in other portions of the state, besides town property in Mineral Wells. Securing his land when nearly the entire country was open for selection, Mr. Slaughter had one of the most desirable locations in the country, and prized it more highly in remembrance of the hardships and dangers attendant upon its settlement. During tlie first few years of his residence of Palo Pinto county the Indians were very troublesome, and Mr. Slaughter could relate many incidents of border warfare from the standpoint of an eye-witness and participant. In 1864 he had a skirmish with seven Indians on Cedar Creek, in Palo Pinto county, several shots were fired, but the Indians were finally frightened away. Three years later the Indians made a raid on his ranch and stole all the horses, and John Slaughter, a son, received a bullet wound in the breast. Skirmishes with the redskins were then of too common occurrence to attract much attention beyond the immediate neighborhood. The entire Texas border was a battlefield, and those who lived on the upper Brazos had to guard themselves the best they could. In 1866 Mr. Slaughter was driving a small bunch of cattle on Dry Creek, near Graham, when he was attacked by thirteen Indians, but his carbine and revolver proved too much for their courage and they retreated after he had wounded one of their number. In the month of April, 1869, a bunch of Indians surrounded and massacred thirteen government teamsters near Flat Top Mountain, in Young county. Mr. Slaughter was within two miles of his place, camped with fourteen men, holding 800 head of cattle which he had gathered. The Indians attacked them, and they only escaped through strategy. Six of the men were sent with the cattle in the direction of Sand Creek, and the remainder of them, including Mr. Slaughter and his son, C. C. Slaughter, made a breastwork of the horses and awaited an attack. Profiting by a deep ravine at hand, some of the men crept cautiously away, and suddenly appearing at another point, made a charge upon the Indians, who supposed there were more re-inforcements coming, and beat a retreat.

Mr. Slaughter was an earnest worker all his life, and few men proved themselves so useful in so many and varied capacities. He was for many years a minister of the Baptist church. During his ministry he baptized over 3,000 persons and ordained more preachers and organized more churches than any other person in the state of Texas. When Rev. Mr. Slaughter first came to Palo Pinto county, in starting out to fill his appointments as minister, he would saddle his horse, fill his saddle bags with provisions, take along his picket rope and arm himself with two six-shooters and his trusty carbine. The distance between the places where he preached being sometimes as great as sixty miles, it was often necessary for him to camp overnight by himself. Twice he was attacked by Indians but escaped uninjured. On one occasion, while he was preaching in the village of Palo Pinto, the county was so filled with hostile Indians and wrought up to such a pitch that Mr. Slaughter kept his six-shooter and his carbine at his side during the sermon, and every member of his congregation was likewise armed. He never permitted business or fear of the Indians to interfere with his pastoral work, and always made it a point to keep his engagements.

He first united with the Methodist church in 1831, but in 1842 joined the Baptist church and in 1844 was ordained to preach. He studied and practiced medicine, and was for a number of years the only physician in Palo Pinto county. It would be impossible to overrate his usefulness during those long years when the citizens of the northwestern counties were practically isolated from the world and dependent upon each other for comfort and aid in times of extremity. Ever thoughtful and kind, Mr. Slaughter gave freely of his time and money to the poor of his community.

Eleven children were born to Mr. and Mrs. Slaughter, six boys and ^ve girls. Seven of them are still living, as follows : C. C, Peter E., W. B., Fannie, Sarah, Jane^ and Millie. Mrs. Slaughter died on the 6th of January, 1894.

Texas, at 11 P. M., March 19, 1895. During his last illness he had the consolation of having with him his three sons, C. C, J. B., and W. B. Slaughter; his three daughters, Mrs. Jennie Harris, Mrs. Millie Dalton, and Miss Fannie Slaughter, and also his long cherished friend, Eev. Rufus C. Burleson, of Waco, and a number of neighbors and other friends. His end was peaceful and in keeping with his Christian life. Just before he died, he expressed his willingness to obey the summons, his trust in God, and his belief in a happy immortality.

Thomas M. Peeler

Thomas M. Peeler was born November 15, 1848, in Kosciusko, Mississippi. He came to Texas when about eighteen years of age, and from Texas went to Idaho and

Me. And Mes. Thomas M. Peelee

Wyoming and spent eight years on ranches there, then came back to Texas and lived on the Irvin & Millet ranch in Baylor county until that ranch was sold to Simpson. Then Mr. Peeler settled in Atascosa county in 1882 and lived there until his death May 18, 1897. He was married January 21, 1880, to Miss Alice Jane Irvin, and to this union were born seven children, five boys and two girls.

Days In Texas

I was born in Jackson county, Mississippi, April 15tli, 1852, and came to Texas with my parents at the age of six months, landing at Corpus Christ! in October. My father was county clerk there for one term. Mother took sick on the ship coming to Texas, and lived only six weeks after landing at Corpus Christi. My grandfather came to Texas with the Irish colony, and served a few years in the Confederate army, was wounded and came home on a short furlough, but took blood poisoning and lived but a few hours.

At the tender age of nine years, I was left an orphan, and was sent to live with the Boolanan family, where I was treated as one of their own children. For two years I enjoyed myself in the home of these good people, but an uncle in Falls county sent for me to come and live with him, but I was abused so much that I left and went to' live with another uncle who was just as bad, so I drifted out into the wide world for myself at the age of thirteen. I worked for Kade Lewis, in the town of Bremond, hauling water, and freighted to the town of Kosse. I stayed two years with this job earning $400 in wages, but when I tried to collect, I had to be satisfied by exchanging my saddle, worth about $9.00 for his, which was not worth, over $15.00. Soon afterwards, I began to work for widow Thomas, gathering and herding range horses, where I learned my first work on a ranch, i

James T. Johnson The Trail Drivers Op Texas 761

I hired to Wash Grey to bring a herd of cattle to Goliad county, delivering them to his brother, Bob Grey. I remained in Goliad county and worked as a freighter again, hauling supplies from Old Indianola to Goliad and Sutherland Springs. The ox teams we had to drive were too slow for a boy of my age, and I longed to get back on a ranch chasing mavericks. For the next four years, I worked for H. A. Lane, near my present home, twelve miles west of Goliad. Here I received $20.00 per month, breaking broncos, gathering and branding cattle, etc.

At the age of twenty-one years I left Goliad with a herd of mixed cattle for H. A. Lane and J. Gus Patton, and drove these cattle over the Old Chisholm Trail to Dodge City, Kansas, with only two stampedes on the entire trip.

One year later I again went up the trail with a herd of mixed cattle of over 3,000 head for J. Gus Patton, who is now our county attorney, and one of the truest friends I have ever known. On this trip we had Patton for boss, and Sidney Chivers, Uncle Billie Menafee and Will Peck as cowboys. Eeturning from this trip, I gathered wild horses in Goliad, Victoria, Eefugio, Bee, Live Oak and Karnes counties, gathering several thousand head for the various ranches.

In 1876 I again went up the trail with 4,500 head of aged steers for Dillard Fant, with Charley Boyce as herd boss. * On this trip we had the worst weather I ever experienced, losing cattle in blizzards with the most vivid electrical displays imaginable. We had seven stampedes on this trip.

In the winter of 1871 and 1872, I helped skin dead cattle on the prairies in Goliad, Victoria and Eefugio counties, as the cattle were starving to death by the thousands, and very few grown cattle lived through this terrible winter. I have seen as many as a thousand head of dead cattle in one day's ride on the prairie near Lamar. Horses, cattle, deer and sheep suffered awfully during these times. Wild game in those days was almost a nuisance. I have seen deer a few miles southeast of Goliad in droves of fifty or more at a time, and all the settlers had hogs running wild on the range, fat in the fall of the year on post oak and live oak acorns, pecans, etc.

In 1876 I returned to Limestone county, near Pottersville, where I was married to Miss Martha Thomas, who has been the most faithful helpmate and partner a man could be blessed with, and still doing her part in every way to assist me in the ups and downs of this life's uncertainties. Eeturning to Goliad, we settled near the Minneauhuila Creek six miles north of Goliad, where we tried farming, while I worked at odd jobs for the late John Taylor for fifteen years. In the early seventies I experienced quite a lot of difficulty trying to play neutral in the Taylor, Sutton and Tumlinson feuds, as my sole desire was to work for wages and not get mixed up with either side.

All the schooling I ever got was about two weeks a year for three years. I did not have a chance to attend school as other boys did in those days. I realize now more than ever what I have missed by not having an education, and it has been one of my greatest desires in life to give my children a good education. I live on my farm near the town of Charco, on some of the same land I roamed over as a cowboy, when land 'could be bought at thirty cents per acre, and which is now worth $75 per acre, and considered as good as the state has. I am now seventy years of age, can do a hard day's work yet, and as old as I am, I feel like I could go through all these hardships again if necessary. If any of my old friends happen to see this article I would be glad to hear from them.

Associated With Frank James

I was born in Hickman county, Middle Tennessee, April 3, 1851, and in 1869 I started to Texas. I arrived at Memphis on a train, then the terminus of all roads going west. There I took the steamer, Bismarck, down the Mississippi to the mouth of Eed River, and up Red River, to Soda and Caddo Lakes to Jefferson, Texas. I had lots of sport shooting alligators on the trip. From Jefferson I traveled in a freight wagon drawn by eight yoke of oxen to Bowie county. The next year I saddled my horse and pulled out for West Texas, landing at McKinney, Collin county, where I met Townsend Megeath, and we traveled together, slept together and that winter we stayed with Sam Hilderbran, which was an assumed name I learned in after years. Mr. Megeath turned out to be Frank James. Both were good, unassuming gentlemen in every way. It was from this county I made my first trip over the trail with Sneed, Clonch and Gatling. I made one trip with horses to Mississippi and after selling them I went down into Florida, where I remained all winter, then went to New Orleans and Shreveport, and on to San Antonio, and then out to Uvalde, where I went to work helping drive over the trail for Hughes, Nunn, Hood and Birchfield. We had fourteen thousand cattle cut into four herds, and we drove them to Wichita, Kansas. This was in 1875. After all were sold I came back to Texas

Hotel. Next morning I pnrchased a saddle for $40 and a horse for $16 and rode to Uvalde. There I fell in with a bunch of fellows, eleven in all, and we started horseback to Silver City, New Mexico, a distance of 900 miles. "We went there to live but nobody lived there outside of government forts except wild Indians, so we started back to Texas, coming to Fort Stanton, down the Pecos Eiver to Horsehead Crossing, then across the plains ninetyfive miles without water to the head waters of the Concho Eiver. There I killed my last buffalo. I spent two weeks with a buffalo hunter there who had killed that season upwards of 5,000 buffaloes for their hides and tongues. He sold the hides to Fort Worth people at six bits to a dollar each.

From Johnson county I drove 125 horses to Arkansas for a Mr. Sparks. I bought beef cattle in the Indian Territory from the Indians for four years, and drove them to the Hot Springs market, then bought cattle in Arkansas to drive to Kansas, but sold them to the chief of the Choctaw Nation, after which I went back to Arkansas and engaged in the mercantile business for awhile. I was in the *'run'' in Oklahoma, and helped to make a state out of the Territory of Oklahoma. I now live in San Antonio.

The Tankersley Family

Richard Franklin Tankersley was born February 19, 1828, in Mississippi. Moved to Texas in 1853, stopping for awhile at Round Rock, Williamson county, afterward living in Cherokee county, then in San Saba, then in Brown county, and from there moved to the head of the South Concho River, in Tom Green county, which was not organized until many years later. He served in the Texas Rangers from 1863 to 1865.

About January 1st, we were visited by a band of Kickapoo Indians who were going to Mexico and had stopped at Dove Creek spring to spend a few days. We had at first thought they were hostile Indians and my father had drawn his gun on the leader, who waved a white cloth and called out, '^me no fight.'' There were about fifty men and two women in the party. They were very friendly and in scouting some days later, found some of our horses which had strayed off and brought them home. On January 8, they were overtaken by a company of Texas Rangers under Captain Gillentine, and a fight was forced on the Indians. A number of white men were killed and my father helped bury them. While living at the head of the Concho, he gathered a herd of cattle with the intention of trailing them to New Mexico, but he sold them to John Chisum, and the Indians took them from him on the plains. In June, 1869, my father trailed a herd of twenty-five hundred cattle to Los Angeles, California, being on the trail about eight months. On the way home, two men who camped with him for the night, cut open a saddle bag and stole five hundred dollars. In the pair of saddle bags there was twenty-five thousand dollars in gold, and why they did not take it all is a mystery. At that time and for many years afterwards there were no banks in this part of the state, so all the money we had was buried under the house.

Increasing depredations by the Indians caused us to move to Fort Concho in 1869. Many times every horse and mule on the ranch was taken. All the salt we used was hauled by wagon from Pecos. On one of these trips my father and a hired man were run into by Indians near the head of the main Concho. They got into the river under bushes and fought the Indians off. My father was shot in the ankle and the bullet was never extracted. In February, 1870, we were living in San Angelo, about where the American Legion opera house now stands, and Indians came trying to get horses out of the corral back of the house. About 10 o 'clock that night the late Judge Preusser came to our door and said he had dreamed of seeing Indians and looking out saw them in fact. About that time they began yelling and shooting. They did not get the horses and it was thought that an Indian was wounded as a bloody war bonnet was found the next day. In this fight a Mexican was shot through one ear.

A kind and all-wise Providence guarded us through all the dangers and hardships of pioneer life and will be with us to the end. Father passed away December 11th, 1912, leaving three sons, G. W., Fayette, and H. M. Tankersley, and four daughters, Mrs. Elizabeth Emerick, Mrs. Clarissa Frary, Mrs. Sallie Phelan and Mrs. Mary Lewis. Since his death, the oldest son and youngest daughter have '^cros^^ed over the river," and are resting with him ** 'neath the shade of the trees.''

Trail Driving Was Fascinating

My parents were J. E. Roberts and Elizabeth Stahl Roberts. I was born in Montgomery county, Texas, January 16, 1863, and came to Frio county with my father and mother in 1869, where I lived ever since. We made the trip to this county in an ox wagon, and about the only thing I remember about the trip was crossing the Brazos River on a ferry boat. When I was about thirteen years old I went to work for Capt. B. L. Crouch on his Frio county ranch, and worked there for several years. I made three trips up the trail. In 1883 I went to Benkelman, Nebraska, and remained over for the fall round-up on George Benkelman's ranch on the South Prong of the Republican River, then returning to my old job on the Crouch ranch.

In 1884 I went to Seven Rivers, New Mexico, and remained there to help gather and deliver the D. J. Crouch cattle to the Holt Cattle Company in November of that year, then drove a bunch of

In 1885 I went with a herd of steers for Crouch &: Crawford to the Chickasaw Nation in the Indian Territory. Bert Brown was our boss on this trip.

Barring stampedes, and storms when balls of lightning played on the tips of our horses' ears and great balls of electricity came rolling along the ground, trail

Shipping Pen

Alvis Powell Belcher was born September 7th, 1854, in Jackson coilnty, Missouri. His parents came to Sherman, Grayson county, Texas, when he was six weeks old. He commenced going up the trail with herds of cattle at the age of fourteen. From 1870 to 1878 he made many trips trailing cattle to Kansas and Missouri. In 1878, together with C. W. Easley he established an R2 ranch on Wander's Creek in Hardeman county where the town of Chillicothe now stands. A short while afterwards the Indians made a raid down through that portion of the country and killed two cowboys working on the ranch. Because of the danger from Indians he sold the R2 stock of cattle, consisting at that time of 10,000 head, and located on the Wichita near Henrietta, Texas, where he lived and ranched until he moved to Southwest Texas in 1897.

He went through all the hardships of the ranchman, wirecutters, droughts and many panics, but he always came back believing he could win out. He started up the long, long trail the 3rd of March, 1919, and it is certain that he and T. B. Jones and a host of other trail drivers will greet the drags as they cross the river with

The Trail Drivers Of Texas 769

Surely I am eligible to a membership in the Old Trail Drivers' Association, for my Grandfather Emberson trailed his little herd of steers from Lamar county to Arkansas and sold them to the United States Government. A few years prior to 1830 my father, Calvin Copenhaver, trailed cattle to Shreveport and other places in the fifties and sixties, and my husband, Alvin Belcher, in the seventies to eighties. My sons have driven herds throughout Western Texas. I have trailed behind the old chuck wagon, have eaten son-of-a-gun from a tin plate off the chuck box and followed cattle from the ranch to the shipping pen.

Tells Of An Indlan Fight

I first saw the light in Montgomery county, January 24th, 1853. The family came to Frio county in 1869, in the month of June. I worked for B. L. Crouch and his brother, Joe Crouch, for twelve years and w^ant to state right here that the Crouches were two as fine men as I ever knew. Captain B. L. Crouch came from Michigan just after the Civil war, and was a captain in the Union army. He first engaged in the sheep business in Williamson county, from there he came to Frio county, where he became one of the big cow-men of Texas, becoming the owner of a ranch between Old Frio Town and Pearsall, containing some sixty thousand acres. My mother had charge of the boarding or dining hall, at the head ranch, where the cowboys and anyone visiting the ranch got their meals. I recall one incident, to show the true gentleman the captain was. Some three or four of his rich friends from the north were at the ranch on a visit, and a cowboy of the one-horse kind came to the ranch looking for a cow that had been lost out of a small herd when passing through the ranch. When the bell rang at the dining hall for supper, twenty-five or thirty men marched into the hall, took their respective places, and there they stood while Captain Crouch took the one-horse cowboy by the arm and escorted him to a seat at the table. After he had been seated, he said, ^^ Gentlemen, be seated.'' I don't think he had a superior for being a refined, cultured, polished, intelligent gentleman, and those who transacted business with him held him in the highest esteem. The cowboys who worked for him loved him like a father. He, like his ^^Pisano," Henry Ford, believed in a fair wage for the working man. Though he had lost his fortune, in his later years he never quit working for the flock master,

The Trail Drivers Of Texas 771

My first trip on the trail was made in the spring of 1874, with J. W. Allen as boss. The herd was owned by Lytle McDaniel, and was delivered at Dodge City, Kansas.

In 1874 we went from the Crouch ranch and shipped to Wichita Falls, Texas, then drove to Bingham, Nebraska, on the Eepublican River. A bad storm struck ns on Smoky Eiver, five herds being in sight, and we were the only boys that held our herd. George Wilcox, the boss, said it was the worst storm that he had ever seen and he had been on the trail thirteen years. Will King from Lockhart, Texas, came near being drowned that night, as the face of the earth was covered with water, and one could not distinguish ravines from level ground.

In June, 1873, during the light of the moon, while working on the Crouch ranch one of the sheep herders failed to show up. Some two weeks after he disappeared I found his remains about one mile and a half from the ranch, his body stripped and mutilated, hands tied behind and seven arrows sticking in his back.

In 1875 Indians made a raid on the Crouch ranch during the night and the next morning when we discovered their trail and missed the horses, seven of us followed them. Nelse Brice,* Jap Brice, Jim Crawson, T. W. Everete, L. L. Everete, Ben Steadman, M. W. Franke and myself. We overtok them at Loma Vista in Zavala county. The country being open, they discovered us when we were a half a mile behind them, so we had a running fight for a mile, until they took the brush. We captured sixty head of horses, twenty of them belonging to Rothe on the Hondo. There were nine Indians in this bunch. The horses they were mounted on were all they got off with. Quite a number of shots were exchanged, but I don't think any damage was done on either side.

Reminiscences Of The Old Trails

I am now 74 years old and looking back over my life I find the main part of it has been spent near the Old Chisholm Trail, or on the Dodge City, Kansas trail.

My first introduction to the Old Chisholm Trail was in 1874 when in company with Robert E. Doan, a cousin, and both of ns from Wilmington, Ohio, we set out for Ft. Sill, Indian Territory, from Wichita, Kansas. We

In 1875, very sick, I returned to my home in Ohio from Fort Sill, but the lure of the West urged me to try my luck again and October 10, 1878, found me back in the wilds and ever since I have lived at Doan's, the trail crossing on Red River known far and wide by the old trail drivers as the jumping off place into the great un-