quently a train a mile long might be seen on the road. Many times a number of trains could be seen together, and the white canvas-covered vehicles extended for many miles, or as far as the eye could see. Conspicuous were the ox trains of Russell, Majors & Waddell, of Leavenworth. Their ponderous wagons were made to order in St. Louis and built so they could carry from 5000 to 7000 pounds of merchandise. While engaged in the transportation business, and when everything was brisk, this firm owned and operated 6250 wagons, with a drove of oxen numbering about 75,000 head. Yoked together and hitched to the wagons, this would make a train forty miles long. These men were a remarkable trio. Their names composed the most noted firm in the country engaged in freighting overland during the later '50's and '60's. The business conducted by the firm was enormous--being carried on almost exclusively for the Government--and immense sums of money were invested in their outfit. In the fall of 1857 they transported Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston's army, with its vast military stores and subsistence, from Fort Leavenworth across the plains and over the Rookies to Utah, at the breaking out of the Mormon rebellion that memorable year. They were also engaged for many years in transporting supplies for the Government, and for a long time did the greater part of the freighting to all the military posts in the Western Territories. They employed thousands of men, wagons, cattle, and mules, and they received and expended, annually, millions of dollars in carrying on their business.* In Russell, Majors & Waddell's outfits the number of wagons in a train was twenty-five, officered as follows: A captain, who acted as wagon-master; assistant wagon-master; the extra hands; the night herder; a cavallard driver, whose duty it was to attend to the extra cattle. Besides these, there was a driver for each team, making a complete force of thirty-one men for a train. The ox trains were designated as "bull trains"; the wagon boss was known as the "bull-wagon boss"; the teamsters or drivers, *Russell, Majors & Waddell were among the pioneers of Kansas, having established themselves in the forwarding business at Leavenworth way back in the early 50's. They were the leading firm on the Missouri river engaged in transportation overland, and it is only a few years since the plain old sign bearing the name of the noted firm was taken down from the place where it was first put up, more than forty years ago, at the corner of Shawnee and Main streets. |
"bull-whackers." Every man was thoroughly drilled and knew his place. He was also well armed and expected to know how to "fall in" when an attack was made by the redskins. This firm was the oldest and most widely known of those that traversed the plains. For many years they were the Government contractors for transporting military stores to all the posts on the frontier. Besides, they had large contracts with Brigham Young, the noted Mormon leader, as well as with many of the prominent business men in Utah, for freighting their supplies from the Missouri river to the "City of the Saints." The first and the last of this great forwarding firm (Russell and Waddell) died many years ago, but the life of Alexander Majors was spared until 1899, when he had nearly reached his fourscore and ten. On account of the steadily increasing Indian troubles along the Platte in the latter part of the summer and fall of 1864, many of the overland freighters, especially those with only a few teams and whose means were somewhat limited, were forced to abandon the business for the time being. As matters then were, with the savages for hundreds of miles along the route--even with the high prices that ruled along the Platte and in Colorado--the freighters could not be induced to longer risk their scalps in the money-making occupation of hauling goods across the plains. Quite naturally traffic by this great route was almost stopped, and in consequence there was for a time an advance in the cost of freighting between the Missouri river and Denver. As the dangers in traversing the plains increased, prices on the overland route naturally advanced. For two-thirds of the way between the Missouri and the Rockies, for everything in the line of groceries and provisions, prices went up rapidly during the summer and fall of that year. It was all in consequence of the embargo placed along the highway by the savages. Ordinary freight-rates were advanced from nine cents to twenty-five cents per pound. All kinds of provisions and breadstuffs kept rising until they reached famine prices. In some instances merchants in the mining camps of Central City and Black Hawk were obliged to pay for transportation as high as thirty and even forty cents per pound on some merchandise, especially on classes of goods that were of a light but bulky nature. Flour in the Denver market was so plentiful the preceding July that it sold at the cost of freight alone (nine dollars per |
hundred). In October it rose to twenty-four dollars per hundred and bounded to forty dollars per hundred at Central City, forty miles from Denver, in the mountains. A meal at a stage station on the South Platte sixty miles below Denver, early in October, 1864, cost two dollars and even at these figures hungry passengers apparently were as eager to partake of a "square meal" as they were when the price at the same place a few months before ranged from "six bits" to a dollar. Almost everything possible was done for the protection of those engaged in overland traffic. An order was issued by the war department, the last of February, 1866, for wagon-trains to rendezvous at Fort Kearney. In the order it was stipulated that no train of less than twenty wagons and thirty men, thoroughly organized, would be permitted to pass beyond Fort Kearney into the Indian country. Mr. A. C. McMakin, now a citizen of Atchison, was, in the later '60's, when the Indians were at war with the immense travel along the Platte, stationed out on the overland route. His duty was to get the names of all parties freighting across the plains and organize them into companies, with a captain chosen to command, whose duty it was to report to an officer at Fort Kearney. The freighters were detained at the military post only long enough to get a sufficient number who could go together in safety. At Cottonwood Springs, the end of the first 100 miles from Fort Kearney, it was the duty of the "captain" in charge to report at the military headquarters at Fort McPherson. The same plan was gone through farther west, at Fort Sedgwick (near old Julesburg), and at Camp Wardwell (near the Junction), the rendezvous being about 100 miles apart. By doing this, and keeping together in sufficient numbers, the freighters were seldom afterward molested in going up and down the Platte valley. Owing to the scarcity of troops, and the amount of country to be covered and protected by patrol, it was impossible to furnish sufficient troops to patrol both sides of the Platte river, and all emigrants and freighters coming up on the north side of the river were compelled to cross the stream at Fort Kearney, the journey then being continued on the south side. The crossing, like all other streams in that country, was very precarious, owing to the quicksand and shifting of channel; it took men and teams that were experienced in crossing; so there were persons in the vicinity |
 A typical bull train on the plains. who made it a business of doing this, if they got their
price, which usually was ten dollars per wagon. They would
always get the parties over in safety, being provided with
cattle that were thoroughly trained, and in this way they
experienced little or no difficulty in crossing. |
Fort Kearney and Cottonwood Springs, 100 miles, and between the latter point and Denver, 300 miles, there was very little fuel near at hand. In the cañons a few miles south of Cottonwood Springs, however, there were large quantities of cedar, and many availed themselves of the opportunity of laying in a supply there sufficient to last several days. Freighters experienced with the plains used to have a small log or perhaps several poles tied together and carried under the bed of the wagon. These they would take along with them on their journey. On camping for the night, if there was no other fuel at hand, they would cut enough from their reserve supply to cook supper and breakfast. Gasoline and that kind of stoves were then unknown. Often a single log or a few poles would be carried from 100 to 200 miles or more before cutting any of it, so careful were the experienced plainsmen of their limited supply of fuel for cooking meals. Among the men most prominent and conspicuous on the plains engaged exclusively in the freighting business for the overland stage line during the '60's were the widely known Carlyle brothers--Henry and Alexander--whom I met many times in 1863 and 1864. They were in partnership with Holladay in transportation of subsistence. Two men more highly esteemed could not be found on the overland route. Much of the time they made their headquarters at Fort Kearney, that being the junction of Holladay's branch stage lines to Omaha and Nebraska City. The boys were old acquaintances of the great stage man, having known him years before in western Missouri. Besides, they were old-timers on the plains, and, being associated with Holladay in freighting grain and supplies, did all that business for the stage line along the Platte and points on the frontier. It required an enormous amount of hay and grain to feed the large number of stage animals on the overland route, but the Carlyles, from their long experience and life on the plains, were equal to every emergency. Their contracts were performed with the utmost speed and with entire satisfaction.* * Some immense wagon-trains at different times crossed the plains before the era of railroads west of the Missouri river. Russell, Majors & Waddell were among the most conspicuous with long trains, for many years being employed as Government contractors. Probably the largest train that was ever seen west of the Missouri went over the old Santa Fe trail during General Custer's memorable campaign against the Indians in the winter of 1868. In it were over 800 army wagons, each drawn by six mules. When strung out four abreast for travel, as was often done, the train was over a mile in length. |
There was a great demand along the entire overland route, during staging and freighting days in the '60's, for almost everything in the shape of literature. Nearly every one wanted reading-matter of some kind to break the monotony while passing his leisure hours. The large number of drivers, stock tenders, station keepers and other employees on the stage line alone made a good market for nearly everything of this kind. Then there were thousands comprising the great army of ox and mule drivers, freighters, and herders, in addition to the hunters, trappers, and ranchmen. Besides, there was a considerable number of tourists en route. In addition, there were frequent invalids going across the plains in search of health, nearly all with appetites thirsting for something to read. Newspapers more than anything else in the line of reading-matter, were wanted by the masses. Magazines, periodicals, books, and the light, trashy, "blood and thunder" novels were each eagerly sought after, according to different tastes. But the dime novels of the past quarter of a century were unknown in the old staging days. Few novels were sold on the plains in the '60's for less than fifty to seventy-five cents. It was extremely difficult to get anything of the kind because of the scarcity of post-offices. Along the Little Blue river there was only one postoffice. Between Valley City and Denver, on the Platte, in 1863, there were four only in a distance of over 400 miles. Late Eastern daily papers--those not over ten days old--went off in a hurry all along the great overland highway. The St. Louis dailies were the newspapers then most sought after, for they were in all respects metropolitan journals during the exciting war times, and were considered reliable. In the '60's St. Louis was the leading commercial metropolis of the great West, being considerably ahead of Chicago, then her most conspicuous rival. Kansas City did not have 10,000 population in the '60's. It was little trouble to get fifteen cents for the Democrat and Republican--really the only prominent dailies then published in St. Louis--and often as high as twenty-five cents was paid just to read the account of a great battle, which was equivalent to the loan of the paper for a short time on the overland route during the civil war. Denver's pioneer paper, the Rocky Mountain News, then only about one-quarter its present size, went off like hot cakes down |
the Platte as far as Old California Crossing, and readily brought from ten to twenty-five cents. For either Harper's Weekly or Frank Leslie's Illustrated it was no trouble to get two bits." The few leading magazines published in the '60's often sold for fifty to seventy-five cents; a late Harper's Monthly occasionally bringing as high as one dollar when a person appreciating such literature wanted something first class for Sunday reading. The yellow-covered novelettes that now sell for from three to five cents each went off readily at twenty-five and thirty-five cents along the Platte in those days. In 1865 one dollar was offered for a newspaper not over ten days' old. The anxious purchaser was one of Ben. Holladay's stock tenders, "ragged, shaggy, sunburnt, and unkempt." The poor fellow was almost crazy to learn the news, not having seen a paper for more than a fortnight. The brisk period of the overland trade extended from 1859 to 1869, during which time there was on the plains and in the mountains a floating population approximating nearly 250,000. The most of this population produced little of the necessaries and comforts of life and had to be supplied from the Missouri river. The biggest rush of overland traffic was from 1863 to 1866. The closing year of the civil war the travel was immense, the larger part of the emigration going into the new gold mining camps being developed in the Northwest. The transportation business was enormous all through the '60's. Most of the freighters who used to slowly trudge along the way up the Platte valley, driving from four to six yoke of patient oxen, every day eagerly watched for the old stage. They looked upon the four-horse and six-horse overland coach as a vehicle distanced only by a lightning-express train. I well remember an incident that took place while making my periodical runs in the summer of 1863 as messenger on the overland stage line from Atchison to Denver. An Atchison freighter had just pulled out with his ox train on Monday morning, a few minutes before the regular hour of departure for the express coach. I passed him on Eighth street, then at the extreme western business part of the city, and reached Denver in six days. Remaining there two days I started on my return trip to Atchison. On my way down on this run I met and chatted briefly again with my friend somewhere near the head waters of the lit- |
tle Blue river, near the divide, perhaps twenty-five miles southeast of Fort Kearney. I reached Atchison, remaining a week before starting out again. On my way west the next trip I passed my friend again with his ox train and chatted a moment with him on the South Platte. I reached Denver, stopping two days, then returned to Atchison on my regular trip, meeting him again on my way east. Remaining another week in Atchison, I pulled out with the stage-coach once more for the Colorado metropolis, never for a moment dreaming of seeing the freighter on the way with his ox train. Imagine my surprise, however, when, within a few miles of Denver, I was greeted with his familiar voice. He spoke to me, and inquired the latest war news; also the local happenings at Atchison, where we both had so long resided. During the time he had been making this trip of 653 miles with his oxen--traveling every day except Sundays--had ridden five times across the plains, a distance of 3265 miles, during which time I had laid by eighteen days--four in Denver and fourteen in Atchison. Running an ox train in the early '60's gave the freighter an excellent opportunity to know the importance of the overland stage as a rapid means of journeying across the plains. This was several years before the neigh of the iron horse had ever echoed on the "Great American Desert." |
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© 1999, 2000, 2001 for the NEGenWeb by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller