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THE TRAIL DRIVERS OF TEXAS
WHEN JIM DOBIE LOST HIS PANTS
E. S. Boatright, Falfurrias, Texas
[photo omitted — F. S. BOATRIGHT]
I was born in Pike county, Alabama, August 2, 1855, and came to Texas in 1876, landing at Houston, but there I decided to go west in search of adventure. I boarded the Sunset, which had not then been completed to San Antonio, and stopped at Luling, and from there I went by wagon to Gonzales where I secured work on a farm owned by G. W. Newberry. Five months later I went to Live Oak county, where Robert Dobie and I bought a bunch of horses which we drove to East Texas and peddled out. In 1876 I gathered horses with Dave Johnson for my brotherinlaw, H. B. Newberry. Our camp was near where George West is now located. We drove these horses to East Texas, and while passing through Williamson county we stopped at Old Man Olive's ranch and were treated royally. After disposing of this herd I went to work for J. M. Dobie. After I had been working there almost a year Mr. Dobie bought 500 or 600 horses from Isam Bailey and put in some of his own to send up the trail. I do not remember just how many there were in the herd, but I do recollect that they could run, especially on a dark stormy night. After we got the herd trimmed to Jim's liking, and his four horse chuck wagon loaded with lots to eat, we started for Dodge City, Kansas. We intended to drive to the McKenzie ranch the first night where we expected to pen the stock and get a good night's rest. We reached the pens about dark
and just as the lead horses started into the pen an old peacock, perched in an oak tree, gave one of his hideous squalls and those horses stampeded, and there was no sleep for us that night. Afterward every time I saw one of those fowls I felt like killing it. We traveled on until we reached the San Saba River, where the worst hail storm I ever experienced suddenly descended upon us. Our slickers were in the chuck wagon, so I got a wetting as well as a hard beating. When the storm was over the boys picked up hail and filled the water barrel, and when I came in to camp they asked me if I wanted a drink of ice water. I told them I would like to have a drink but it was not ice water I needed. When we reached Albany the boss loaded the chuck wagon with everything good to eat, including all kinds of dried fruits. We had a good cook named Juan Gomez, but he had never cooked dried apples, and the first time he attempted it the outcome was rather amusing. He filled the kettle full of the dried fruit and it soon began swelling and in just a little while he had all of the vessels in camp full, including the wash basin. When we reached the Cimarron we saw our first Indians. One of them asked me for tobacco, and when I handed him my plug of Star navy he kept it. I was fighting mad but I let him go. After we crossed into the Indian Territory we encountered a severe thunderstorm in which lightning played around us all night long while we stayed with the herd. The next day on old chief came to camp and was very friendly with us. He invited me to his camp and said he had two pretty girls, but I was afraid they would want some more tobacco and I did not have enough to do me until we reached the next place where I could buy some. When we reached the Washita River it was very high and we had some difficulty in crossing. One day we saw a bunch of Indians coming in a run and Jim Dobie rode around to where I was and said, "Boatright, I want you to stay with me." I told him I did not know whether I could stay with him or not, as
he had the best horse, but I would do my best. The Indians wanted to trade horses, but as they could not get a trade they rode away. I must tell a little joke on the boss: He left home with but one pair of pants, and by the time we reached the Territory they were showing considerable wear. He mounted a bronco one morning that was some pitcher, but that made no difference for Jim was some stayer. I don't know just how it happened, but his pants got hung on the pommel of the saddle, and when the horse got through pitching there was not much left of Jim's pants. I was the only one in the outfit that had breeches that would fit him, and I gave him a pair to relieve his distress. We reached Dodge City in due time, and notwithstanding some hardships and dangers we encountered on the trip we all had a good time. There was never a better man to work for than J. M. Dobie. I know of only one of the boys now living and that is Dick Dobie, who lives at Mathis, Texas.
SKETCH OF COLONEL J. J. MYERS
One of the best known trail drivers of the early days was Col. J. J. Meyers, who died in December, 1874, from chloroform poisoning by robbers in Omaha, Nebraska. He had just delivered a large herd in Utah, and was returning home. His death occurred from the effects of the poison after he reached home. Col. Meyers had four sons, all of whom were trail drivers, taking herds to northern markets. These sons were George Meyers of Batesville, Texas; John G. Meyers of New York City, A. E. Meyers of San Antonio, and R. E. L. Meyers of Austin, Texas. His daughter, Mrs. John I. Pool, now resides at Lockhart, Texas. Col. Meyers was a Mexican War veteran, was first lieutenant under John C. Fremont, and in the war between the states was colonel of DeBray's 26th Texas Cavalry.
The following sketch taken from "Historic Sketches
of the Cattle Trade of the West and Southwest," published in 1874 by Joseph G. McCoy, gives full account of the prominent part Colonel Meyers played in the development of the cattle industry:
"The demand for cattle to supply the territories was great in 1866, and the turning of attention of territorial operators to Abilene as a place to buy, greatly aided that point in becoming a complete market, one in which any kind, sort or sized cattle could either be bought or sold, and the driving of herds purchased at Abilene to the territories became as common as driving from Texas to Abilene.
[photo omitted — COL. J. J. MEYERS]
"There were certain Texan drovers who looked almost exclusively to the territorial operators for buyers for their stock. In case they succeeded in meeting a purchaser, the drovers would often deliver their herds at some agreed point, in which territory the buyer might desire. In such cases the same outfit and the same cowboys that came from Texas with the stock, would go on to its territorial destination. Perhaps the most prominent drover engaged in supplying the territorial demand is Col. J. J. Meyers of Lockhart, Texas. In June, 1867, during the first visit of the Illinoisan to the West, and whilst his project of a cattle shipping depot was not yet fully determined upon, and whilst stopping temporarily at the Hale House in Junction City, he, Joseph G. McCoy, author of, "Sketches of the Cattle Trade of the West and Southwest," was introduced to a small sized, quiet gentleman, who was evidently entering that class upon whose head Time had begun to sprinkle her silver frosts. The
gentleman was introduced as being late from Texas, and here thought the Illinoisan, was just the man before whom to lay the plan of the contemplated project and thus secure the Texan's judgment upon it, whether or not it was plausible or advisable, and if such a shipping depot was created, would the Texas drovers bring cattle to it. So inviting the venerable gentleman to take a walk, they strolled to a lumber pile on a vacant lot and there sat down for two hours or more, in which time the Illinoisan explained the contemplated project fully, and noted closely the comment and opinions of the Texas drover, for such he proved to be. He there told that young Illinoisan that a depot for cattle and shipment was the greatest need of Texas stockmen, and that whoever would establish and conduct such an enterprise, upon legitimate business principles, would be a benefactor to the entire Texas livestock interest, and would undoubtedly have all the patronage reasonably desired. From the hour of that formal interview between the Texas drover and the Illinoisan, the project, such as was soon developed at Abilene, became a fixed fact or purpose in the mind of its projector. There are moments in one's existence when decision, or a purpose arrived at, shapes future actions and events—even the whole tenor of one's life and labor.
"Such was the effect of the two brief hours spent in conversation by the Texas drover and the Illinoisan. When they shook hands and parted there existed in the breast of the Illinoisan an impression that he had been talking to a sincere, honest man, who spoke his convictions without deceit or without any desire whatever to mislead anyone, but with a firmly fixed determination to give credit only correct information. The decisions and determinations formed at that interview fixed the life and labor of the Illinoisan. That Texas drover was Col. J. J. Meyers, a man of peculiar build and stature that can endure untold physical hardships without fa
tigue. There are few men in the West or Northwest who have so thorough a knowledge, gathered from actual travel and observation, of all the territories of the Union, as Col. Meyers. One of his early tours over the west was made across the continent with John C. Fremont on his famous exploring expedition. This occurred almost forty years ago when the Colonel was but a youth just entering into vigorous manhood. Such a strong desire to roam became implanted in his bosom that he did not rest until he had traversed almost every foot of territory between the Mississippi River and the Pacific Ocean. And when he had seen all that Dame Nature had to show, he turned his attention to stock raising in Texas, making his home in Lockhart. He too, was a drover in 1866, and endured all kind of outrages before he was able to sell his herd. But in 1867 he decided to drive in Western Kansas, and so flank all settlements, and take his chances to find a purchaser somewhere on the frontier, but just where he did not know. The Colonel was among Abilene's first patrons and warmest friends, and so long as it was a market he annually made his appearance with from four to sixteen thousand head of cattle, which of course were driven in several herds, never more than three thousand in one herd.
"The class of cattle the Colonel usually drove was just suited for the territorial demand, therefore he never shipped but a few carloads. For four years he sold his herds to parties living in Salt Lake, genuine Mormons of the true polygamist faith, and delivered his stock to them in Utah. The Mormons, as all well know, are very clannish people, especially the lay members and are little disposed to trade with or buy anything of a Gentile. Therefore, to avoid this religious prejudice, and in order to get into and through the Utah Territory without any trouble, or having to pay exorbitant damage bills to the Latter Day Saints, it was his practice to instruct his men to tell every resident of Utah they met that the cattle
belonged to Elder Kimball, one of the elders or high priests in Mormondom. No matter whose farm the cattle run over, nor how much damage was done to the crops, it was all settled amicably by telling the residents that the cattle belonged to Elder Kimball. No charge or complaint was ever made after that statement was heard, and it did appear that if Heber Kimball’s cattle should run over the saints bodily and tread them into the earth it would have been all right, and not a murmur would have been heard to escape their lips. When the cattle reached their destination the Colonel never went near them, but allowed Elder Kimball to dispose of them always as if they were his own, which he could do at a rapid rate. The Mormons appeared to consider it a great privilege to buy of this sainted elder, although they were paying from one to three dollars in gold more per head than they would have to pay to the Gentile drover. Indeed, they would not have bought the same stock of the Gentile at any price. When it is known that this people are such complete dupes of cunning smart men is it any wonder that they submit to be plucked like a goose for the benefit of their quondam keepers? Or is it anything strange that their leaders manage to get immensely rich? But Utah, notwithstanding her great city, and her immense mining operations, has now more than a supply of cattle for her own consumption, and is beginning to export cattle to Chicago and the East. Several thousand head of fat beeves were driven from Utah over the mountains to Cheyenne and there shipped to Chicago during the year 1873. So there is no longer a demand for stock cattle in that territory.
"There are few Texas drovers who handle or drive more cattle from Texas than Col. Meyers; few are more widely or favorably known than he. He is a man that has few enemies, but wherever he is known his name is spoken with respect, akin to love and admiration. He is a man true to his pledges, and one who would not reap
advantage from or oppress a fellowman, simply because he had the power or legal right to do so. When he is given the title, 'a father in Israel' among the drovers there will be found a few, if any, who will dispute his right or worthiness of the appellation."
CAME OVER FROM GERMANY IN 1870