Daily Life on an Old West Cattle Drive

Texas Longhorn and bluebonnets. 

Photo copyright D.S. Dollman.

Although dirty, stinky, dangerous and exhausting, cattle drives just might have been as exciting as they are portrayed in Western films. For a teenager on his first drive, it could have been the most exciting thing he'd ever done! Nevertheless, work on a cattle drive entailed many hours in the saddle, few hours of restless sleep (as I discussed in my last post, and exhausting, possibly dangerous work chasing and rescuing strays. On most cattle drives there was one cowboy to every 250 cattle, which required the cowboy to be vigilant at all times, all for $30 to $40 per month pay. The cowboy in charge of the remuda was paid $25 a month. The cook was paid between $50 and $75 per month depending on the size of the cattle drive and experience. The trail boss was paid between $100 and $150 a month and was well worth the money.

Texas Longhorn. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

The cook was the first cowboy to rise so he could prepare breakfast (bacon, beans, biscuits and coffee) for the guards who would relieve the night guards while the rest of the cowboys ate their breakfast and prepared for the day. When breakfast was ready, the Cookie, or Old Lady (not a very nice term, but one I've seen often in history books) shouted, "Bacon in the pan, coffee in the pot!" Cowboys were up before dawn to break down the camp, put out the campfire, pack the wagon, choose their horses and prepare themselves before the cattle started moving. They generally slept in a circle around the fire near the chuck wagon. The first ones up were the cowboys replacing the most recent night guard. Night guard lasted two hours, so the relief crew would eat fast so the night guards could come in and get their own breakfast before starting their day.

Chuckwagon, Texas, circa 1900, public domain.

The cowboys would roll their blankets up and pack them in the chuckwagon. The bed roll was sometimes referred to as a Flea Trap, according to Barnard's Story of the Great American West. Blankets were generally quilted wool and a second or third blanket was used to lie on the ground and protect the cowboy from the cold and creepy critters. The ground blanket was an oil cloth. An oil cloth was a strip of tightly-woven cotton threads coated a few times with linseed oil that would harden to produce a sturdy, hard cloth. The blankets and other personal items were rolled up inside the oil cloth, which was tied at both ends then stacked with the other bed rolls in the chuckwagon. (The chuckwagon was invented by cattle baron Charles Goodnight and will be discussed in another blog post--it deserves a post of its own, as do cattle barons and cattle trails.)

It is important to remember that I am discussing cowboys working on a cattle drive here. Although cowboys working the range, or as ranch hands, or traveling, often carried guns and rifles, during cattle drives cowboys generally carried guns only during guard duty at night. They may have owned guns, and had them with them on the drive, but while working the drive these items were stacked in the chuckwagon, too. This is a logical decision--it would be rather difficult and possibly dangerous to cowboy, horse, and cattle, to try and maneuver through a herd with a rifle strapped to your saddle. If a cowboy wore a gun on a drive it was worn high up on the waist. The six-shooter was the cheapest, according to Albert Marrin's Cowboys, Indians, and Gunfighters: The story of the Cattle Kingdom.A six-shooter cost between $12 and $20, weighed four pounds and was often small enough to fit in a trouser pocket--but again, a cowboy on the trail would not wear a gun in his trouser pockets. Can you imagine what would happen if it accidentally fired?

The cowboy's apparel was discussed in a few earlier posts, but generally consisted of wool Long Johns or underwear, a wool shirt, vest--coats restricted movement--jeans, or wool pants leftover from Civil War uniforms, and bandanas. Bandanas were vital, particularly during dust storms. They protected the mouth and nose from inhaling dirt from the trail, but not very well. Cowboys still complained often of sand in their teeth! (Inhaling the dust could be dangerous business. During the dust storms of the 1940s many people died from breathing dust into their lungs.)

The cowboy's hat, often a Stetson or other popular brand, had a broad brim to protect the eyes and tall crown to keep the head cool and for good rain drainage. Cowboys often suffered from vision problems from staring into the hot sun, but the wide-brimmed cowboy hat and bandanas, when used properly, could add many years of good vision to the life of a cowboy. (There were eyeglasses available during this time period. In fact, The Historic EyeWear Company has an article on the styles of eyeglasses available to cowboys in the Old West.)

Cowboys also wore chaps on drives. These were made of leather or wool and protected the jeans or pants from cactus thorns. Cacti such as the Cholla can grow taller than a man with needles over an inch long (trust me, I've pulled them out of the bottom of my shoes with pliers), so chaps were a necessity. The water canteen was another necessity as cowboys needed to keep hydrated during the drive without pausing to run back to the chuckwagon. The cowboy filled the canteen early in the morning when the water was cool and the canteen was covered in leather or woven wool to keep it cool during the ride.

The cowboy's horse of choice was a personal preference, but the most popular breed was the strong, tall quarter horse. The horses did not belong to the cowboy's though. They belonged to the cattle owner. Cattle owners believed the cowboys would not ride the horses hard enough if they were their own. Some cowboys were said to like Appaloosas for their color and there were always mixes in the remuda, but quarter horses were preferred. Remuda horses cost between $15 and $25.

Cowboys often wore spurs, but they were not used to spike at the horse's hindquarters as is often seen in old movies. Spurs were considered "gentle persuaders." In fact, many cowboys would blunt the points of new spurs to avoid injuring their horses. Cowboys on a cattle drive did not ride one horse, though they might have a favorite. They changed horses as much as six times a day and rode them hard chasing stray cattle. Cattle drives averaged 25 miles a day.

In addition to hard work, the cowboy and his horse encountered many dangers on the cattle drive, particularly when crossing rivers. If the leader of the cattle was distracted or disturbed by a tree or brush floating in the river he might turn around, which would turn the entire herd around, causing them to "mill" in the river. The cowboys had to drive straight into the center of the mill, striking the animals to force them back on track or the cattle would drown. In 1879, a herd of 3014 cattle panicked while crossing the Platte River in Nebraska and 800 died. The cowboys could also die in the river, thrown from their horses or gored by horns of panicked cattle swimming in the middle of the mill. A surprising number of cowboys were also unable to swim, according to Western historian Albert Marrin, who claims that most rivers on the cattle trails had numerous graves of drowned cowboys.

The youngest cowboy in the group was generally in charge of the remuda, which could be as large as 150 horses. Remuda comes from the Spanish word remonta, or remount. The cowboy in charge of the remuda was called the Wrangler and would follow along behind the cattle, keeping the horses in line. The word Wrangler, like so many cowboy terms, also came from a Spanish word, caballerango, or "one who cares for horses." Many cowboy terms came from the Spanish because the cowboy profession was started by the Spanish Vaqueros, Spanish and Native American Indians who were trained to watch over the cattle of Spanish Missionaries. Lasso is also from the Spanish Lazo; chaps is a derivative of chaperjos. (The origin of the cowboy profession will be discussed in a later post.)

But, we are speaking of Wranglers now. The Wrangler knew each horse by name and was expected to know immediately if a horse was missing and to track it down. His job was not easy--bandits and Indians often tried to steal horses from the remuda. Horse thieves were considered the lowest of the low and often shot on sight or strung up from the nearest tree. Shooting an unarmed man or shooting a man on the back, however, was against the Cowboy Code, which also included being gentle to animals, small children, the elderly, honesty, tolerance, hard work, and never taking unfair advantage in any situation.

Back to the horses. I've read of two general types of saddles used on the cattle trail. The Texas style saddle appears to be more broad and bulky with plenty of leather while the California style was much lighter and had fancy designs in the leather. Saddles were expensive, but more importantly, they were lifesavers in the desert, and cowboys knew this to be true. A good cowboy would never leave his saddle behind. If his horse was shot beneath him during a battle with Indians he would use the saddle as protection during the fight, then carry the saddle back to camp.

Once the cattle were moving down the trail, the trail boss would take the lead. The column could stretch behind him for miles. On the sides of the column rode the flank riders who were responsible for chasing down strays. The drag riders rode behind to keep the cattle moving forward. Cowboys on the cattle drives often spent 14 hours in the saddle, which explains why so many older cowboys were bowlegged! They also suffered from rheumatism, damage to the spine, and a wide variety of work-related injuries. If cowboys on the cattle trail had Workers Compensation the program would be bankrupt! In spite of its dangers and the injuries to cowboys, the cattle drive was well worth the money for the owners of the cattle. In one cattle drive alone, Charles Goodnight and Oliver Loving partnered up and made $12,000 in gold.

The cattle did not move in a line, but more of a wedge. Oddly, they seemed to take the same position each day. They knew where they belonged. The more aggressive cattle moved to the front, while the young, weak, or lazy cattle hung behind. Herds averaged between 2000 and 3000 cattle. The largest drive on record was 15,000 animals. That drive left Texas in 1869 at the height of the popularity of cattle drives.

As for the cattle, most cattle drives were rounded up Texas Longhorns. Eventually, though, the customers back East grew tired of the tougher Longhorn meat. It was also discovered that Longhorns carried--but were immune to--a deadly cattle disease called the Texas Tick. Ranchers started adding shorthorns, Herefords, and Brahmans to their herds to provide a tastier choice of meat. These breeds also proved to be immune to Texas Tick.

The cowboys called all the cattle by the same names, though--critters, beeves, and doggies. Sometimes, the cowboys would sing to the cattle on the drives, just as they did at night, calling out, "Get along little doggie," as they moved them down the dusty trail. Cowboy language was rough with plenty of swearing, but never around the ladies, though there were few ladies seen on a cattle trail! Meeting ladies was little more than a dream to cowboys on the cattle drive, a dream unfulfilled until they reached their final destination--the railroad town!

Frontier Recipes from Legends of America

More frontier recipes from my friends at Legends of America. Frontier Recipes: The "Real" Old Stuff of Cowboy Days.

Night Life on the Cattle Drive and why Cowboys Sing to the Cattle

View of Sandia Mountains from Albuquerque, New Mexico. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

I spent a late evening in the desert with my dogs watching the storms move over the Sandia Mountains, imagining what the settlers must have felt when they stood beside their wagons, staring up at the vast expanse of darkened clouds. As I lie here in my cool room with my odd assortment of exhausted companions at my feet (a chihuahua, two chocolate labs, and a mutt we rescued from the desert) I am thinking of what it must have been like for cowboys on a cattle drive trying to rest after a long day's ride. It's one of my favorite daydreams, wondering what it was like to be a cowboy in the Old West while I am resting in the shade. I have a feeling that cowboys in the Old West would most likely have laughed at the word "rest," particularly in reference to a night on a cattle drive.

New Mexico desert in springtime near Rio Rancho. Photo by D.S. Dollman.

A cowboy's day on the trail started before sunrise, and they rode in the heat of day with full gear--boots, chaps, long-sleeved shirts, everything necessary to protect their bodies and the cattle from the dangers of the land. The actual drive generally ended around five in the evening, or as soon as good bedding ground was located. The bedding ground was selected by the trail boss who looked for plenty of water and grass. This was the reason the drive ended early--to give the animals plenty of time to drink, graze, and rest up for the next day's march through the sagebrush and desert sands of New Mexico, or tall grasses and forestland of Texas. Sometimes I imagine it must have seemed like a battleground for these men, many who had just returned from the Civil War and still wore parts of their uniform, unable to afford proper cowboy apparel until they received their first paycheck.

While the guards allowed the herd to graze until nightfall and the rest of the cowboys completed their various chores, the cook prepared supper. Beef was a favorite of cowboys, of course, but a treat--healthy cattle were too valuable to eat on the trail, though a stray found wandering through the sagebrush or a lame cow was often added to the menu. Generally, though, the cowboys settled for bacon. Bacon rolled in flour and fried in tallow was sometimes referred to as Chuck Wagon Chicken.

When a cow was available for dinner, the cowboys made good use of all of its edible parts. The beef was cut into thick steaks dipped in flour and also fried in tallow, which is a rendered form of fat processed from suet that could be stored for long periods of time. The rest of the cow was used for the cowboy's favorite dish, Son-of-a-Gun Stew. The recipe wasn't complicated, but the results were quite tasty according to those cowboys who wrote about such things. There was a cattle drive cook, or "Cookie," who described the dish and is quoted in Cowboys, Indians, and Gunfighters by Albert Marrin: "You throw ever'thing into the pot, but the hair, horns, and holler."

In Son-of-a-Gun Stew, the cow's tongue, liver, heart, kidneys, brains, and other organs were all chopped into chunks and mixed together then seasoned with salt, pepper, and Louisiana Hot Sauce, which traditionally included hot peppers, vinegar, and more salt, and tasted similar to Tabasco. The final main ingredient was the marrow gut--the half-digested contents of the tube connecting the cow's four stomachs. Son-of-a-Gun Stew was generally left to simmer for three hours, so you can imagine how hungry the cowboys were by the time dinner was served as they meandered about, sniffin' and smellin' that beef! After it was done simmering, more spices were added to according to taste, but after three hours of simmering the flavor was already mighty strong.

Dinner was always served with coffee, and if a cowboy was pouring himself a cup of coffee, he might hear a shout of "Man at the pot!" which means "pour me a cup, too!" Dessert was also served at dinner, and included canned tomatoes; or rice with raisins, which was called Spotted Pup; but pies were served on a surprisingly regular basis, baked with dried prunes, raisins, or apples. If the pie had a meringue on top it was called Calf Slobbers. When the cowboys finished eating they scraped their plates into a pan called the Squirrel Can and tossed their dirty dishes in a bucket called the Wreck Pan to wait for whoever helped with clean-up duties. They then complimented Cookie by telling him they were "Stacked to a fill!"

Chuckwagon on a Texas roundup, 1900. Photo courtesy of Library of Congress, public domain.

After dinner, the cowboys fetched their bed rolls from the chuck wagon, if they had a bed roll. If not, they were said to have a Tucson Bed, which meant their back was the bed and their belly was their only blanket. The actual bed roll was often a rubberized ground cloth with one or two wool blankets. The cowboy's saddle served as a pillow. This was not just to save space, it was also a necessity. The cowboy needed to be able to leap out of bed and mount his horse quickly in case of a stampede.

Before they removed their hats and boots for sleep, cowboys often sat around the campfire speaking softly so as not to spook the cattle. This act also served a dual purpose. In addition to providing some much-needed relaxation, it calmed the herd. Sometimes someone would play a slow song on the harmonica or guitar and sing softly, soothing the cattle after their hard day's march. This was particularly important if there were coyotes howling in the distance or the crash of thunder of a nearby storm making the herd nervous, and in New Mexico and Texas there are always coyotes howling and thunderstorms booming in the distance!

The cook was generally the last of the cowboys to go to bed, except for those on guard duty, of course. The last chore for the cook was to point the tongue of the chuck wagon toward the North Star so the trail boss knew his directions when he started out the next day. The cook was the compass for the cattle drive.

Cowboys slept on the ground, and slept fitfully in spite of their exhaustion. They often had creepy crawlies to contend with, such as spiders and centipedes climbing in their hair and ears, or worse yet, a rattlesnake slithering beneath a blanket might bite a cowboy when he woke up, startled.

The night shift guards had a challenging time, as well. Night guards sometimes rubbed chewing tobacco--called a "rouser"--inside their eyelids to make sure they stayed awake to watch for dangers. They were expected to watch for bandits, and Indians, who might steal both cattle and the remuda of horses--the herd of horses that cowboys used to select their daily mounts--and to keep an eye on the skies for bad weather, or the real-life nightmare of prairie fires. Cowboys caught in prairie fires were referred to as Fried Gents, a rather unpleasant term, but the fires moved so quickly that sometimes there was no way to escape--a horrific situation that cowboys and residents of the American Southwest continue to face to this very day. If a night storm brought hail, the cowboys covered their heads with their saddles, and often lost animals to the larger hail storms.

Hail storms almost always started stampedes, and it was stampedes that the night guards feared most. Longhorn are thought to be more restless than other cattle and during long drives they could be real troublemakers. They spooked easily, and took the rest of the herd with them. Famed cowboy Charles Siringo had a rather cruel solution to this problem that would have modern day animal rights activists screaming. He would tie the hind legs of the more restless cattle at night so they couldn't run, or sew up their eyelids to keep them in line. The thread would rot in about two weeks and if the trouble-making cows weren't calm by that time they would end up in Cookie's pot as Son-of-a Gun Stew.

However, as I said before, the more humane method of calming the cattle, and the one used most often, was singing. In fact, cowboys with clear, gentle singing voices that carried well were often the preferred night guards. The cattle liked long, slow, sad ballads--apparently, cows were believed to be a bit melancholy at night. It wasn't actually the words that soothed them, though, but the sound of the cowboy's voice. In fact, some trail bosses refused to hire cowboys that could not sing, which is logical considering everyone was expected to work the night shift at some point.

Apparently, the cattle had favorite tunes. They liked "Green Grow the Lilacs," and "When You and I Were Young, Maggie." They liked "The Dying Cowboy," which must not have been particularly encouraging to the cowboys, and "Bury Me Not on the Lone Prairie." They also were said to have a preference for songs about Jesse James, and the song that told how they "laid poor Jesse in his grave." In spite of the singing, cattle were easily spooked and anything from a skunk to a dropped cooking pan could start a stampede. Some cowboys even believed that cattle saw ghosts and had nightmares.

A stampede at night was a nightmare come true for the cowboys. The herd would start running madly as the trail boss screamed out, "Everybody up!" and the cowboys were instantly awake and running for their horses, their saddle pillows in their arms. The cattle were brought under control with shouts and the firing of pistols near the ears of the leaders as the cowboys tried to bring the stampeding group back around on itself, changing their direction until they ran in a circle, or mill, then stopped.

It was dangerous work, stopping a stampede. If a horse hit a prairie dog hole and stumbled, the cowboy could be thrown into s mass of pounding hooves and instantly killed--one would hope it was a quick death. Cowboy Teddy Blue also tells a horrific tale of the loss of a friend who was found at daybreak long after the stampede had ended. The man's horse was found first with his ribs crushed and hide torn from his body. According to Blue, his friend was a few feet away and "mashed into the ground flat as a pancake. The only thing you could recognize was the handle of his six-shooter." The cowboys were so shook up that they tried to convince each other that the horse and man were killed by lightning, and this was the story they told the man's family. According to Marrin, the worst night stampede on record occurred in 1876 near the Brazos River in Texas when 2700 cattle plunged into a gully and died within minutes.

In spite of these dangers, the cattle drive moved on, always traveling north toward the trains that would take the cattle to their final destination, and the towns with saloons, bath houses, and hotels where the cowboys could finally, after many long, grueling months of riding and roping and sleeping with one eye open, they could take their rest.

Sources:

• Forbis, William H. The Old West: The Cowboys. Time Life Books. Canada:1974.
• Freedman, Russell. Cowboys of the West. Clarion Books. New York: 1985. 
• Marrin, Albert. Cowboys, Indians and Gunfighters: The Story of the Cattle Kingdom. Maxwell Macmillan International. 

Literature of the Wild West: Louis L'Amour

"I think of myself in the oral tradition--as a troubadour, a village tale-teller, the man in the shadows of the campfire. That's the way I'd like to be remembered--as a storyteller. A good storyteller." --Louis L'Amour

I have just returned from a long vacation in Colorado. I am a big fan of books on CD, and since all of my traveling is done in the American Southwest, I prefer to listen to books about the Southwest, and authors such as Zane Grey, Willa Cather, and my favorite, Louis L'Amour.

My adoration of L'Amour's writing style began when I was a child. My father used to tell me, "if you want to know what it was really like to live in the Wild West, you should read Louis L'Amour." My father is a Wild West bookworm, and he has also read most of Louis L'Amour's books. His educated opinion is that L'Amour knew his subject well and I also believe this to be true, particularly when I read L'Amour's descriptions of Texas, New Mexico and Colorado.

I am currently living in the area of New Mexico that L'Amour wrote about in The Daybreakers. When I read his descriptions of the Sandia Mountains and the watermelon appearance they take on at sunset, of the vast fields of green during monsoon season and the herds of antelope racing across the prairie, of dust storms rising out of nowhere, reaching past the clouds into the heavens, I find myself saying, "Yes, I understand!"

Louis L'Amour actually lived the western life he loved so well and wrote of in his books, though he was born in 1908, in a time when what remained of the true American Old West was generally found in traveling shows, reenacted by paid--though highly skilled--performers, such as Annie Oakley.

L'Amour was born Louis Dearborn LaMoore in Jamestown, North Dakota, the seventh child of Dr. Louis Charles LaMoore, a veterinarian, and his wife, Emily Dearborn. L'Amour's father was French and his mother was Irish. L'Amour could trace his ancestry in North America back to the early 1600s. The family moved to the Dakotas in 1882 when the Jamestown area was mostly farmland and LaMoore's large animal clinic was well-supported by the cattle and horses belonging to the local cowboys.

When he wasn't playing cowboys and Indians in his father's barn with his youngest sibling, Louis was reading. He was tutored by his educated and successful older brothers and sisters. Hard as they might try to keep him focused on his studies, though, his attention often strayed to adventure novels, a problem that would eventually pay off in a successful writing career. Louis was an avid reader of his favorite author, G.A. Henty, who wrote novels popular with young boys.

In the winter of 1923, when the economy in North Dakota took a heavy fall, the family moved to the Southwest. The boys and their father worked skinning cattle in west Texas and baling hay in New Mexico. I suspect they spent some time in the Rio Grande Valley of New Mexico, judging from the detailed descriptions in L'Amour's novels.

When he was 15, L'Amour set off alone to start his adventurous life, working a wide variety of jobs, including time as a seaman, lumberjack, and miner. He also served in the Transportation Corp during World War II. He was shipwrecked in the West Indies and stranded in the Mojave Desert, but he somehow managed to survive. His grit and determination served him well in his next career as a pugilist--he won 51 of 59 fights as a professional boxer.

Between adventures, L'Amour also worked as a journalist and lecturer. His massive collection of vintage novels numbered close to 17,000. He used the knowledge he derived from these books, his varied experiences, and his extensive knowledge of the West to create one of the finest bodies of written work produced by an American author, with 89 novels, 250 short stories, and even poetry. He even dabbled in acting, appearing in the 1979 two-part television series of The Sacketts.

My favorite is the Sacket series, and my favorite book is The Day Breakers with its detailed descriptions of New Mexico. The book is narrated by Tyrel Sackett, a fast-shooter with a kind heart dedicated to making the world a better place for his family. The book has everything readers want from Westerns--mystery, suspense, romance, and more than one barroom shootout--but it also has sections of great humor that come to the reader unexpectedly as wonderful, laugh-out-loud moments. At one point, when he is visiting Santa Fe with his brother, Tyrel decides to take a bath. He finds a long bathing room with many tubs, disrobes, soaps up, then stares in shock as a group of young women enter the room with laundry baskets on their heads. Yep, you guessed it--he was bathing in the local Old West laundromat!

In his lifetime, L'Amour received numerous prestigious writing awards. In 1983 he became the first novelist awarded the Congressional Gold Medal by the US Congress for his life's work and in 1984 he was awarded the Medal of Freedom by US President Ronald Reagan.

Louis L'Amour died on June 10, 1988 and his wife, Kathy, and children, Beau and Angelique, carried on his publishing tradition. His books have now been translated into 20 languages and more 320 million copies have sold worldwide. Every written work by Louis L'Amour is still in print, which I believe is a testament to the undying popularity of the Western novel and our undying love for the American West.

The Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry, Cowboy Poetry.com, Cowboy Art

A post for those interested in contemporary cowboys: If you are not connected to these two pages I would highly recommend that you check them out--very entertaining.

A Facebook Post from the Center for Western and Cowboy Poetry Cowboy Poetry.com

All day I've faced a barren waste
without the taste of water, cool water.
Old Dan and I with throats burnt dry
and souls that cry for water,
cool, water.
..."Cool Water," by Bob Nolan, Sons of the Pioneers

Bob Nolan and the Sons of the Pioneers sing "Cool Water" here.

Hank Williams sings "Cool Water" in this YouTube video, which includes a vintage photo slideshow.

Or one of my favorites, Johnny Cash singing "Ghost Riders in the Sky."

"Straight from the Well," by renowned Cowboy Artists of America President Tim Cox (Tim Cox Fine Art) says it all about "cool water," according to Cowboy Poetry,com, which recently posted: "The impressive painting was a part of the 2012 Prix de West at the National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum." Cox's painting, "At His Own Pace," was selected as the 2007 Cowboy Poetry Week poster image. You can find more about Tim Cox at CowboyPoetry.com: http://www.cowboypoetry.com/timcox.htm Or, you can go directly to his website at: http://www.timcox.com/ or you can visit his Facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/Tim.Cox.Cowboy.Art.

To the right, you will find a sketch by renowned Western artist Frederic Remington. For more information on the art of Frederic Remington visit the Frederic Remington Art Museum Website.

(I am currently on vacation in Colorado again preparing for a series of posts on cowboys!)

Aspen and Ashcroft, Colorado--Old West Mining Towns

Mining in the Old West was a profitable business. It was also a risky, heartbreaking business. In fact, according to The History Channel's The Real West "Boom Town to Ghost Towns," over 90% of Western mining enterprises failed, and the remains of these failed enterprises can still be seen on the mountainsides and along the winding rivers in the deep valleys of Colorado's Rocky Mountains.

In most Western ghost towns only a few structures have survived, and for those unfamiliar with the Old West the contemporary appearance of these ghost towns may give the mistaken impression that the visitor is standing on ground once occupied by a small number of people, when in truth, as soon as the word "gold" was mentioned a thriving metropolis seemed to appear overnight. The average boom town quadrupled its population within a month's time, then quadrupled that expanded number the next month. The "rush" to gold was an important part of the potential success of the miners. The first miners who arrived could pluck nuggets off the ground, but those who arrived late might hit the town in time to see a line of wagons rolling down the road, headed for the next town where someone once again shouted the word "gold."

The words "boom town" meant "profit" to many people. Miners rushed madly to the area where gold or silver was found and they were often unprepared to feed or shelter themselves, or perform the tasks needed to find the gold! This created opportunities for others who followed close behind with wagons full of shovels, tents, clothing, liquor, newspaper printing equipment--the supplies necessary to sustain a town filled with people.

Women arrived behind the miners, often providing some form of service. Mining towns attracted the best entertainers, and men literally threw nuggets of gold on the stage for these young, attractive women. The miners also had a healthy appetite after digging in the mines or panning in the rivers all day and women brought wagon loads of cooking supplies along with their cooking expertise to meet this need. Wagons filled with women also arrived to offer prostitution services.

These early mining towns often had fun, playful names, such as Rough and Ready, Hell's Delight, and Gauge Eye. Sometimes the names of these towns changed a few times before the townsfolk settled on one they liked. For instance, the mining town that started as Ute City, Colorado became Aspen, and the nearby Castle Forks City was soon changed to Chloride, and finally, Ashcroft.

Although one might wonder about the origins of some of these odd-sounding names, such as Gauge Eye, the naming of Ute City did have a logical explanation. In the winter of 1879 the local miners refused to abandon their camps and mining claims in spite of a dangerous Ute uprising nearby and pleas from Colorado's governor of the time, Frederick Pitkin, who urged the miners to return across the Continental Divide to safer grounds.

The town was renamed Aspen in 1880, which is also an appropriate name as the town is filled with quaking aspen trees, and when visitors first view these wonders of nature, it is easy to understand why the miners were reluctant to leave. In addition to the great wealth coming from the mines in this area, the men were surrounded by a natural beauty that still leaves tourists in awe. In fact, the nearby Maroon Bells, southwest of the town of Aspen, is believed to be one of the most photographed mountains in North America due to its magnificent display of colorful aspen leaves in the fall.

As for the money coming from Aspen's mines, at its peak, from 1891 to 1892, Aspen surpassed the famous town of Leadville for silver production. The value of silver exploded with the passage of the Sherman Silver Purchase Act of 1890, which doubled the government's purchase of silver. By 1893, Aspen was more than a boom town, it was a bona fide city with numerous banks, a state-of-the-art hospital, theaters, opera houses, and electric lights!

The silver market crashed in 1893 when President Cleveland repealed the act. When the Panic of 1893 hit Aspen, the town crumbled. Within days, most of the mines were closed and the miners were unemployed, broke, and homeless. They had no choice, they had to leave. Within months, the population of Aspen dropped to 705 residents. Aspen seemed to be moving toward ghost town status until the 1930s when investors recognized its value as a ski resort. It is now one of the most popular tourist towns in Colorado, particularly to wealthy vacationers, due to its thriving ski industry, though it still only has a resident population of 6700.

Unfortunately, the nearby mining town of Ashcroft did not fare as well as Aspen, though it started out surprisingly strong. Silver was first discovered in the area in 1879 by wandering miners Charles B. Culver and W.F. Coxhead who had left the town of Leadville, which was nearly over-run with miners by this time, in search of a new silver supply in the Castle Creek Valley. By 1880, Colorado was actually the number one mining state in the country due to the mining production in Leadville, but there were so many men and women moving into the area that those who arrived late on the scene had little hope of success.

When Culver and Coxhead decided to try their luck in Castle Creek Valley, the gamble paid off. In fact, their initial claim produced 14,000 ounces of silver to the ton. Coxhead returned to Leadville to announce their success. When he returned he discovered that 23 men had already joined Culver and were busy establishing their claims. These early miners were surprisingly organized. Within weeks they had formed a Miners Protective Association, establishing a benefit fund for sick and injured miners and their families, collecting dues from what had grown to 97 miners within a matter of weeks. They built a courthouse and platted the streets for their town.

In 1882, a rich strike was announced in the Montezuma and Tam O'Shanter mines and the town was renamed Ashcroft, though my research did not uncover why this particular name was chosen. By this time, Ashcroft had a population of 2000. It also had two newspapers, which were considered vital to the success of Old West towns, six motels, 17 saloons with top-notch entertainment, a brothel, a doctor, a jail, and...a bowling alley! The town was graced with a visit from Horace and Baby Doe Tabor. Horace Tabor was famous for establishing the town of Leadville. The town of Ashcroft decided to honor Tabor's generosity to miners because he often grubstaked miners who did not have the money to stake their own claim, so the people of Ashcroft held an extravagant dinner and dance during the Tabor's visit.

In spite of its popularity and initial success, the town of Ashcroft eventually dwindled to a few hundred people. When it was discovered that the silver vein was shallow, the miners began to drift over to nearby Aspen. Within a few years, over 1900 of Ashcroft's residents had moved to Aspen. The remaining residents spent most of their time relaxing in the saloons or fishing in the nearby streams. However, like Aspen, Ashcroft was also given a second chance around the turn of the century. According to a 2010 article in National Geographic, "Volunteering in the Ghost Town," a World War II veteran, Stuart Mace, moved his family to what remained of Ashcroft in the early 1900s and offered dogsled tours of the ghost town and became the model for the 1950s television series Sergeant Preston of the Yukon. Unfortunately, the dogsled tours were not enough to sustain the town and Ashcroft became yet another Colorado ghost town.

Those few buildings that remain in Ashcroft are in surprisingly good shape as they were recently restored to attract tourism. The town still has ten restored buildings and three buildings that remain in their original condition and are open to tourists for a small fee. One of these buildings contains Mace's dogsled. Although there are no reports of lost souls wandering the streets of Ashcroft, one can still sense the ghost of a dream in the buildings that still stand in what was once a booming town in the Colorado Rockies.

The Outrageous, Notorious, Mysterious Life of Calamity Jane

In 1953, Warner Bros. Studios released the musical extravaganza Calamity Jane starring Doris Day as the boisterous, boastful, gun-toting Calamity and Howard Keel as Wild Bill Hickok, her not-so-secret crush. It is a fun movie with plenty of dancing and romance, but the only part of the film that remotely resembles the life of Calamity Jane is her habit of firing guns in bars, which at one time was welcome behavior in Wild West towns as Calamity's true, wild personality was known to attract large crowds to small town saloons.

From the day she was born, Calamity Jane was different from other women of the time. She had a special kind of energy that attracted friendships with men, but discouraged the same with women. Unfortunately, her wild social behavior eventually was her downfall. Like many of the notorious wild men of the West, Calamity spent her last days suffering terribly from years of hard drinking and heavy smoking.

There is so much about the life of Calamity Jane that remains a mystery. Biographer James D. Horan detailed the life of Calamity Jane in a collection of essays titled Heroic & Outrageous Women where he referred to her as "the most notorious woman in American frontier history. According to Horan, Calamity Jane was born Martha Jane Canary, or Cannary, or Canarray, on May 1, 1852. In addition to the spelling of her name, her birth date and birthplace are also debated. Anyone who has tried to trace their family's genealogy will know immediately the source of this confusion--census records at that time were handwritten, often with very bad handwriting, and census takers did not always ask for the spelling of a name.

In her autobiography, titled Life and Adventures of Calamity Jane, she begins her life story by stating, "My maiden name was Marthy Cannary. I was born in Princeton, Missourri, May 1st, 1852. Father and mother were natives of Ohio. I had two brothers and three sisters, I being the oldest of the children." She also describes her childhood fondness for horses and her keen ability to aim and shoot a gun. Although her talents with both horses and guns are well-documented, it is doubtful that Calamity Jane actually wrote these words as it is well known that Calamity Jane could not read or write.

There are few documented details about the early years of Calamity Jane, though it is known that she started her life, and ended her life, as a drifter. It is also known that one of her first employers was the Union Pacific Railroad. She must have been very young when she worked for the railroad as this was prior to her 1869 arrival in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Cheyenne was a bustling metropolis in the Wild West, the home of many wealthy men and women, and Calamity made quite an impact on the town as she was already wearing men's pants, chewing tobacco, spitting like a mule and drinking in the local saloons. She was, however, welcomed in bars as her wild antics--shooting mirrors, shouting and bragging--attracted customers. Over the next few years she is known to have lived in many Western towns, and worked many jobs. Some say she was attractive when she was younger, a dark-eyed beauty. Others say that it was fitting that she dressed like a man as she looked like one, too. This is not, however, how her fans wished to see her, then or now. For instance, in the 1936 film The Plainsman, Calamity Jane is played by the great Hollywood beauty Jean Arthur, and Wild Bill Hickok is played by Gary Cooper whose character clearly finds her attractive in the film, but has great difficulty expressing his feelings for her. Again, the stories told about Calamity Jane are as varied as the stories she told about herself.

Around 1873 it is believed that Calamity left Cheyenne to work as a mule skinner, a slang term for one who drives mules, but it is also possible she went to work on a cattle drive. She was then spotted in Abilene and later in Hays City, Kansas before making her way up to Montana. In Montana she made friends with Dr. W. A. Allen who years later commented on her dress and behavior, which was considered shocking and outrageous for the times. "She swore, she drank, she wore men's clothing. Where can you find a woman today who doesn't do such things? She was just fifty years ahead of her time," Allen said.

In her autobiography, Calamity claims to have been a scout for General Custer at Fort Russell, Wyoming in 1870, which is unlikely. However, she also says this was the first time she started wearing men's clothing, so it's possible she was able to blend in with the rest of the men. She claims to have been one of the best shots and the most reckless and daring horseback riders of her time, which seems to be a reasonable claim, as well. She bragged in her autobiography--and in many Western saloons--that she once saved the life of a fellow soldier under highly questionable circumstances. She said that she was with a group of soldiers trying to escape from marauding Indians. She was riding in front when she heard a shot, turned, and saw a man named Captain Egan slumped in his saddle. She rode back to Egan and caught him as he fell from his horse, then carried him back to the fort. Captain Egan, she says, is the one who named her Calamity Jane. It is this story that raises the most questions, and eyebrows, regarding the veracity of Calamity Jane's autobiography. How could she possibly have had the strength to catch a falling man in her arms while controlling both her horse and his? (In the Doris Day film, Wild Bill Hickok teases Calamity Jane about this story.)

Calamity also claims to have worked as a Pony Express rider, carrying mail from Deadwood for fifty miles through the Black Hills of South Dakota. It was a dangerous route, but Calamity explains that she experienced little trouble due to her reputation for her quick shot and careful aim--no one wanted to mess with her! She spent the rest of that summer hanging out with her friends Wild Bill Hickok and Charlie Utter. It is also known that she spent a short time working at the brothel of local Black Hills madam Dora DuFran during this time, as well.

Unfortunately, on August 2, 1876, Wild Bill Hickok was shot and killed by Broken Nose Jack McCall during a poker game at Nuttal & Mann's Saloon No. 10 in Deadwood. (Oddly, when he died, Hickok was holding a Dead Man's hand of two black aces and two black eights. A few days before his death, Hickok told friends that he had a premonition he would die that night.) In her autobiography, Calamity claims she heard of Bill's death and ran from her room without her weapons. She tracked McCall to Shurdy's Butcher Shop and threatened him with a meat cleaver until other men arrived to lock him up in a log cabin. Calamity claims McCall escaped from the cabin and was later caught in Yankton and hung. Historians, however, state that McCall was tried and acquitted for Hickok's murder, then arrested a second time in Yankton when he bragged about the murder, retried, and hung for the murder.

It is clear that Calamity Jane tries hard to make herself out to be the hero in every tall tale in her short book, but this type of writing was expected from dime novels about the Wild West. If her book was published in contemporary times she might face a few lawsuits for libel and find herself chased off the Oprah show, but at the time it was published, in the late 1800s, her readers accepted her stories as truth. In the eyes of her readers, in the minds of her fans, Calamity Jane was a Wild West hero.

Following Hickok's death, however, there are also a few well-documented instances of Calamity Jane's true heroism. For instance, she did rescue passengers in an overland stagecoach that was attacked by Plains Indians. She distracted the Indians then took over the reins of the stagecoach--the driver was killed during the attack--and delivered the passengers safely to Deadwood. She also served as a health worker during a smallpox epidemic in Deadwood in 1876 and showed great compassion toward the men she nursed back to health. She also worked desperately to save the life of a young man, C.H. Robinson, who would later appear again in the story of Calamity Jane.

Sadly, according to historian James D. Horan, Calamity spent many years moving from saloon to saloon, drowning her sorrows in massive quantities of alcohol. She eventually made her way back to Wyoming where she worked on a cattle ranch, then down to El Paso where she claims in her autobiography that she met and married Clinton Burk (Burke) in 1885. (A Montana newspaper, the New Northwest, also challenged this story, claiming she had been married twice--once to a man named Washburne and a second time to Lt. Summers, who was the father of her child. Others claim she was married three times, and Calamity told many of her friends that Wild Bill Hickok was the father of her child. Some believed they were secretly married. The mysteries about the life of Calamity Jane are truly endless.)

According to Calamity, she gave birth to a daughter on October 28,l 1887. She says that she and her husband moved to Boulder, Colorado and managed a hotel until 1893. In 1893, Calamity appeared in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show with many other great western performers, such as sharpshooter Annie Oakley. Calamity was working as a storyteller, but again, her drinking interfered with her ability to perform.

Calamity and her daughter arrived in Deadwood, without her husband, in 1896. The many years of hard drinking and smoking had changed her appearance and her friends were shocked and saddened to see these changes. One acquaintance, Ben Arnold, famous for his own exploits as an Indian fighter, wrote that she had changed so much he did not recognize her.

Nevertheless, Calamity was offered lucrative employment. She was hired to play herself in a traveling show about the Wild West. In her autobiography, she tells of her first "engagement" held at the Palace Museum, Minneapolis, January 20th, 1896. According to a 2001 article in Deadwood Magazine titled "Girls of the Gulch," Calamity's autobiography made its appearance about the same time she started performing in the show. Her first performance in the show also marks the end of her story in her autobiography.

Calamity drank so heavily during her time with the show that she was fired. She was broke, and she gave away copies of her autobiography in saloons to pay for her alcohol. In 1899, she once again arrived in Deadwood with her daughter. Her friends, saddened by her degradation and concerned for her child, arranged a benefit on her behalf. Calamity abandoned her child at a hotel and spent the evening drinking at a local saloon until she spent all of the money from the benefit. Her child was turned over to foster parents.

Calamity Jane was next spotted at the 1901 Pan-American Exposition. In 1902, explorer Louis Freeman found her in Yellowstone. They shared a few beers, then he took photographs of Calamity smoking a cigar. In 1903, Calamity returned to Madam Dora DuFran's in the Black Hills, cooking and doing laundry for the other women who worked at the brothel.

In August of 1903, Calamity Jane failed to show up for work. She was found in her room at the Calloway Hotel, dying. She told her friends that she wanted to be buried next to Wild Bill Hickok and they complied. According to James D. Horan, her funeral is believed to have been one of the largest to ever take place in Deadwood. The rector of the Mt. Moriah Cemetery in South Dakota where she is buried, the man who closed her coffin, was C.H. Robinson, the young boy she had saved during the smallpox epidemic so many years before in Deadwood.