At first the idea of a pony express that would do what was promised early in 1860 was hooted at by the enemies of the novel enterprise. But, in spite of this, the originators of the scheme were so firm in their belief that it would finally win that they did not hesitate to invest $100,000 in it. They equipped the line and established stations at frequent intervals for a distance of about 2000 miles. Russell's partners in the freighting business, Messrs. Majors and Waddell, did not have great faith in its success, but they sunk a vast fortune in it, believing that it would be as "bread cast on the waters." The pony express lasted less than eighteen months. Two months before it stopped it was followed by the daily overland stage-coach, in July, 1861; four months later came the Pacific telegraph, in competition with which it was as an ox train compared to the lightning express; and finally the completion of the first railway across the continent, in May, 1869, forced the Concord stage-coach, as the telegraph had the pony, to the rear. Some days the receipts of the pony express were enormous, amounting to $1000 or more. There are instances where official papers were dispatched by it which cost as high as fifty dollars. It is said that while England and China were at war, in the early '60's, the reports sent from the British squadron in "celestial" waters to London were carried overland by the pony express, then the safest and most speedy route for transmitting news from that part of Asia to Europe. The "pony" charges on one of these official war documents were $135. The charge on ordinary letters and official papers, according to their weight, even up to within a few weeks before the pony express was discontinued, ran all the way from one dollar to twenty-five dollars. The stock used by the pony-express riders was in every way far superior to anything possessed by the Indians. In a race for life on the plains, the pony riders, mounted on their fleet animals, could soon leave the redskins far in the rear. It took the Indians only a short time to learn that they were not in it in such a race. To accomplish their purpose, it became customary for them, however, occasionally to pick off a rider when in a weird cañon or ravine for the skulking savages, secreted behind rocks, would take such an advantage and pour a volley of bullets or a number of sharp-pointed arrows into the rider, and, in this way, would sometimes be successful in getting the animal they so much desired. |
While in operation, the pony express was a great attraction on the plains, Every one going overland steadily watched for it. After the wire of the Pacific telegraph line had been stretched across the continent from Omaha to San Francisco, in the fall of that year--1861--the enterprise suddenly vanished. Its period of usefulness had ended. It could not make the race with electricity, and was soon numbered among the great undertakings of the past. But in its inception and organization, it met the needs of the country, and well served the people who, separated by a vast stretch of almost uninhabited land, needed a means of rapid communication. Johnnie Frey, the first "pony" rider out from St. Joseph, was about twenty years of age, and his weight did not exceed 125 pounds. He rode to Seneca, a distance of eighty miles, averaging about twelve and one-half miles an hour in addition to changes. At one time Frey made the ride from Seneca to Granada and return, thirty-two miles, in one hour and twenty minutes. He was born at Rushville, Mo., and, after the civil war broke out, enlisted in the service of his country as a member of General Blunt's scouts. He was a brave young man and participated in some desperate fights in the Southwest. He was killed in Arkansas, in 1863, in a hand-to-hand fight with a company known as the "Arkansas rangers." Before giving up his life in the last engagement, he killed, single-handed, no less than five of the "rangers." Jack Keetley was another rider, who, for awhile, rode from St. Joseph to Seneca with Frey and Melville Baughn. Keetley at one time rode from Rock Creek to St. Joseph, thence back to Rock Creek, thence to Seneca, and from Seneca back to Rock Creek again, a distance of 340 miles, without rest or sleep, covering the entire "run" in thirty-one hours, making a fraction less than eleven miles an hour the entire distance. The last five miles, from a small stream east of Ash Point, he fell asleep in the saddle, and in that condition rode to the end of his long "run" into Seneca. The pony ridden by Baughn from Fort Kearney to Thirty-two-mile creek was stolen by a thief, who rode the animal to Loup Fork. Mel. shortly got on the trail of the thief and secured the stolen pony, and took it back to Fort Kearney, where he found the "pony" letter pouch awaiting him. He quickly threw the |
 Overland Pony Express -- The Relay Station -- Changing Ponies. |
saddle on the animal and finished his trip, but he was considerably behind schedule time. In a few years afterward Mel. was hung for murder at Seneca, Kan. Jim Beatley was another "pony" rider. He was from Richmond, Va., but his real name was Foote. He was about twenty-five years of age and weighed in the neighborhood of 160 pounds. At one time Beatley rode from Seneca to Big Sandy, fifty miles and back again, "doubling" his route twice in one week. He was afterwards killed in a quarrel with an overland employee by the name of Milt. Motter, in 1862, at Farrell's ranch, a stage station known as Big Sandy, in southern Nebraska. William Boulton, who rode with Beatley some three months, was between thirty and forty years old and his weight was not far from 130 pounds. At last accounts, he was said to be living somewhere in Minnesota. It is related that while Boulton was once riding between Seneca and Guittard's, and when within five miles of the latter station, his pony by some means unknown became disabled, and he was obliged to leave the animal, while he walked the distance, with the pouch of "pony" letters on his back, and, securing a fresh pony, finished the trip. Don C. Rising, now of Wetmore, Nemaha county, Kansas, was a "pony" rider for a few trips in 1860. He was born at Painted Post, Steuben county, New York, December 1, 1844, and came West in 1857. He rode from November, 1860, until the express was superseded by the telegraph, a little less than a year following. He went on the line a few days before be was seventeen years old, and most of the time while employed rode on different parts of the route between Big Sandy and Fort Kearney. The average speed was most always kept up, but Don claims to have made two "runs" on special orders when he averaged a speed of twenty miles an hour between Big Sandy and Rock Creek. A young man who went by the name of "Little Yank," perhaps twenty-five years old and weighing not over 100 pounds, was another rider along the Platte between Cottonwood Springs and old Julesburg, who often covered 100 miles at a trip. A rider named Hogan rode from Julesburg northwest across the Platte. His present whereabouts are unknown, but at last accounts lie was living somewhere in Nebraska. His "run" extended to Mud Springs, near the historic Chimney Rock; distance, about eighty miles. |
Jimmy Clark was a rider on the eastern division between St. Joseph and Fort Kearney. He made the "run" between Big Sandy and Hollenberg; and, occasionally, he went as far west as Liberty Farm, on, the Little Blue. George Spurr, Henry Wallace, George Towne and James McDonald each rode at different times along the route between St. Joseph and Salt Lake City. Theodore Rand, now employed by the Burlington route, and residing at Atchison, was engaged as a rider from the time the "pony" was inaugurated until it disappeared. Rand rode 110 miles, from Box Elder to old Julesburg, covering the distance both ways at night in all seasons. While the schedule time was ten miles an hour, he often made his "run" in nine hours, an average of something more than twelve miles an hour. When he first went on the line he rode each animal twenty-five miles, but later he was given a fresh horse every fifteen miles. The late Jim Moore, who kept Washington ranch and a trading post in the South Platte valley, between old Julesburg and Beaver Creek station, in overland-staging days, was a "pony" rider. Moore made a remarkable ride on the 8th day of June, 1860, when the pony line bad been in operation little more than two months. He was at Midway station--the half-way point between the Missouri river and Denver--when a rider bearing a highly important Government dispatch for the Pacific coast arrived. Without losing a minute, Jim mounted his pony and was off for old Julesburg, in the northeast part of Colorado, 140 miles distant. He made his ride as quickly as possible, fleet animals being placed at his disposal at intervals along the route. Reaching Julesburg, he met the east-bound rider with another important Government dispatch from the Pacific, destined for the national capital. Unfortunately, as it happened, the rider who should have been the bearer of this dispatch east had been killed the day before. With less than ten minutes' rest, and without even stopping to eat, Moore jumped into the saddle, and, in a twinkling, was raising a terrible dust on the road down the Platte towards Midway. He made the round trip of 280 miles in fourteen hours, forty-six minutes, an average of over eighteen-miles an hour. The westbound dispatch reached Sacramento in eight days, nine hours, forty minutes, from St. Joseph. Bill Cates, said to be quite a Rocky Mountain character, and |
now residing somewhere in the Rockies, was one of the early pony express riders, and, it is reported, had a number of daring adventures along the Platte and in the mountains while in the employ of the company. James W. Brink, besides being one of the early mail-carriers on the plains, was also one of the original pony express riders, going on that route at its opening in April, 1860. He spent some eleven years on the plains and has had a somewhat checkered career. He was known among the stage-drivers as "Dock" Brink. He was at Rock Creek station with "Wild Bill" when the bloody fight took place with the McCandless gang, when no less than five outlaws were killed. William F. Cody, known the world over as "Buffalo Bill," and who was a resident of Kansas in his boyhood days, was among the first of the pony express riders; likewise he was one of the most fearless and dashing of the boys who acted in that capacity. His route embraced a ride over a trail of seventy-five miles on the north fork of the Platte river to Three Crossings of the Sweetwater. The course was a long and extremely dangerous one. It extended through a region not only beset at times by highway robbers, but it was also infested with bands of bloodthirsty Indians. In many respects this ride was a perilous one. On the Sweetwater, where the old trail meandered along a rugged cañon, the treacherous river extended to the walls on both sides of the cañon, and here the riders were obliged to cross the stream--often when it was a roaring torrent--three times in a few rods; hence the name, Three Crossings.. Young Cody, however, was the boy for the occasion. No emergency in connection with his duties ever arose to which he was not equal. During his career on the plains while a pony express rider, and during his forty years of adventure in the great West since then, he has gone through scores of exciting and dangerous scenes, many of them at the risk of his life. He has probably seen as many wild Indians as any one; and he has undoubtedly made more "good Indians" than any other living man. He covered at one time one of the longest "runs" ever made on the "pony" route between the "Big Muddy" and the great Olean. After riding his seventy-five miles, and about to hand over his mail-pouch to the next rider, he found the latter dead, having been killed in a fight; so Cody voluntered (sic) to continue -9 |
the "run," eighty-five miles, in addition to the seventy-five he had already ridden. The entire distance--remarkable as it may appear--was accomplished inside of schedule time. He then turned back and made the distance to Red Buttes in due time, a continuous ride of over 320 miles without rest at an average gait of fifteen miles an hour. William James, born at Lynchburg, Va., in 1843, was, when eighteen years of age, a rider for the pony express. He was called Bill James for short. He crossed the plains with his parents by wagon train when only five years old. At that time it took three months to travel a distance that can now be covered inside of three days. While riding the "pony," before the days of the telegraph and the railroad across the continent, his "run" was from Simpson's Park to Cole Springs, in the Smoky Valley range of mountains in Nevada. The distance was sixty miles, but he made the round trip and rode 120 miles in twelve hours. The ponies ridden by James were California mustangs, in their day considered the fleetest of animals in that part of the country. Ten miles an hour was made, including all stops. In the sixty miles ridden he changed ponies four times, making one change at the end--five ponies making the "run" one way of sixty miles. Very little time was consumed in the change of ponies. On riding up to a station a pony was standing there, saddled and bridled, and all it was necessary to do was to simply throw the letter pouch across the pony's back, mount, and be off as fast as the animal could go. The route ridden by James crossed two summits and two valleys in the mountains, and was described as a desolate region, inhabited almost exclusively by the Shoshone Indians. Occasionally there could be seen a camp of emigrants, on their way to the coast. In going over this "run" at times it was an extremely lonesome ride. The journey was seldom made, he said, without wondering if he would get through; or, reaching his destination, if he would ever get back. Few, if any, of the riders had more exciting experiences on the pony express than Bill James; still it never occurred to him, at the time, that there was anything extraordinary about them. Robert Haslam ("Pony Bob"), now engaged in business in Chicago, made a great record as one of the pony express riders. His field was in Nevada, a portion of the ride along the Carson |
river. One of his rides in 1860 is spoken of as one of the longest ever made in the history of the pony line--380 miles. The reason why this extraordinarily long ride had to be made was because one of the riders had been killed by the Indians and one of the stations burnt. Strange as it may appear, this long distance, beset by perils on every side, was accomplished without accident and only a few hours behind the regular schedule. Some of the riders apparently knew nothing of fear and scores of times risked their lives while on duty. One of them, Charles Cliff, was riding when only seventeen years old. He rode on alternate days, and often covered his eighty miles in eight hours. He had a narrow escape while freighting on the plains three years later. He was engaged in a fight with Indians at Scott's Bluff, and received three balls in his body and twenty-seven in his clothes. The party he was with had nine wagons and were beseiged (sic) for three days by over 100 Sioux, when relieved by the arrival of a large wagon train. Among the riders who from time to time rode the "pony" from St. Joseph westward were Johnnie Frey, Jack Keetley, and Charles and Gus Cliff. Only two of these four boys are now known to be alive--Charles Cliff, who resides in St. Joseph, and Keetley, who is said to be living somewhere in Montana. What few of the seventy-five others who were employed on the route and are still alive are scattered throughout the country and widely separated. Following are the names of some of the men who, at various times, were riders on the pony express route:
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Will D. Jenkins, who in early days resided near Big Sandy, Neb., writes from Olympia, Wash., as follows: "How well I remember those days back in the early '60's, especially the old pony express days, when that system of conveying messages was put into operation. Although only 'a substitute,' I shall always retain a certain degree of pride in the fact that I 'rode stations' on the old pony express, and that at a time and place when it was far safer to be at home. I remember, also, Bob Emery's wild stage drive from 'The Narrows.' I was an eyewitness of that exciting event; yet I have somehow got the names of those Little Blue valley stations mixed up and confused in my mind. Thirty-seven years ago it was--a long time to remember. But the exciting drive was from 'The Narrows' to the next station east. During my boyhood days on the plains I witnessed many exciting chases, but none that would compare with that wild drive. One Sioux warrior, mounted on a fleeter pony than the other Indians possessed, would make a complete circle of the stage, and, at each circle, would send in a volley of arrows. But Bob succeeded in landing his passengers at the station, none of them being injured." Capt. Levi Hensel, of Pueblo, Colo., who lived on the line of the overland stage and pony express route, at Seneca, Kan., writes a private letter, and speaks of the early times as follows: "I have been racking my brains to think of something about the pony express worth while to go in your book, and can't for my life think of anything that is not hackneyed. The stirring incidents always occurred farther west than Seneca, where I was located. I had the contract to shoe the overland stage and pony express horses that ran from Kennekuk to Big Sandy up to the time I threw down my hammer and went into the army. I missed the best three years to make money by doing so, but do n't regret that I helped save the Union. Sometimes they ran ponies in from Fort Kearney and beyond to be shod, because no one up that far had proper facilities for shoeing bad horses. The animals that Johnny Frey and Jim Beatley used to ride were the worst 'imps of Satan' in the business. The only way I could master them was to throw them and get a rope around each foot and stake them out, and have a man on the head and another on the body while I trimmed the feet and nailed the shoes on, and then they would squeal and bite all the time I was working with them. it generally took half a day to shoe one of them. But travel! They never seemed to get tired. I know of Johnny Frey riding one of them more than fifty miles without a change. He was about as tough every way as the ponies; and Jim Beatley was another off the same piece. Jim was murdered in some sort of a cowboy row up the road,* and poor Johnny Frey was killed on the Canadian river by bush wackers. I saw him within a few minutes after he was killed. He was one of General Blunt's scouts, along with W. S. Tough, Johnny Sinclair, and that gang. We were returning from chasing Cooper, Cabball, Steele and Stan. Watie through the Indian Nation almost to Boggy Depot, Tex., and the scouts ran into a gang of Indian bushwackers at Canadian Crossing. Frey was one of the most noted of all the pony express riders and had many hairbreadth escapes from Indians on the plains. He never knew what fear was, and on several occasions made runs through hostile bands when other riders weakened." *Beatley was killed by Milt. Motter at Big Sandy station, in the early '60's. |
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