Fé trail, and visitors often remained there for weeks at a time, for
Colonel Bent kept open house. On holidays, such as Christmas and the
Fourth of July, if any number of people were there, they often had
balls or dances, in which trappers, travellers, Indians, Indian women,
and Mexican women all took part. Employed about the post there was
always a Frenchman or two who could play the violin and guitar. On one
occasion Frank P. Blair,[7] then twenty-three years old, afterward
a general in the Union army, and at one time a vice-presidential
candidate, played the banjo all night at a ball at the fort.
[7] Appointed Attorney-general of New Mexico by General Kearny
in 1846. Took an active part on the side of the Union in
Missouri in 1860–1.
Just before each Fourth of July, a party was always sent up into the
mountains on the Purgatoire River to gather wild mint for mint-juleps
to be drunk in honor of the day. For the brewing of these, ice from the
ice-house was used. In those days this drink was called “hail storm.”
The employees at the fort were divided into classes, to each of which
special duties were assigned. Certain men remained always at the post
guarding it, trading with Indians and trappers, and keeping the books.
These we may call clerks, or store-keepers, and mechanics. Another
group took care of the live-stock, herding and caring for the horses
and mules, while still others had charge of the wagon-train that hauled
the furs to the States, and brought back new goods to the fort. Other
men, led by veteran traders, went to trade in the Indian camps at a
distance.
Excepting in summer, when the trains were absent on their way to St.
Louis, the population of the fort was large. There were traders,
clerks, trappers, hunters, teamsters, herders, and laborers, and these
were of as many races as there were trades. The clerks, traders,
and trappers were chiefly Americans, the hunters and laborers might
be white men, Mexicans, or Frenchmen. Some of the Delawares and
Shawnees--of whom Black Beaver was one of the most famous--were hunters
and trappers, while others of their race were teamsters, and went
back and forth with the trains between Westport and Fort William. The
herders were chiefly Mexicans, as were also some of the laborers,
while the cook of the bourgeois was a negro. Almost all these people
had taken Indian wives from one tribe or another, and the fort was
plentifully peopled with women and children, as well as with men.
During the summer season matters were often very quiet about the
fort. In April, just about the time that the Indians set out on their
summer buffalo-hunt, the train started for St. Louis. It was under the
personal conduct of Colonel Bent, but in charge of a wagon-master, who
was responsible for everything. It was loaded with robes. With the
train went most of the teamsters and herders, together with some of
the laborers. The journey was to last nearly six months. Each heavy
wagon was drawn by six yoke of oxen, driven by a teamster, who might
be a white man or a Delaware or a Shawnee. With the train went great
herds of horses to be sold when the settlements were reached. Agent
Fitzpatrick says that the Cheyennes moved with the train as far as
Pawnee Fork, and then scattered on their hunt.
Travel was slow, for the teams made but ten or twelve miles a day.
On each trip they camped at about the same places, and to the men
who accompanied the train the route was as well known as is the main
street to the people of a small town. When camp was reached at night
the wagons were corralled, the bulls freed from their yokes, and, in
charge of the night herders, who during the day had been sleeping
in the wagons, were driven off to the best grass and there fed and
rested until morning, when they were driven back to the corral to be
turned over to the teamsters. The horse herd was taken off in another
direction, and held during the night by the horse night herders. Within
the great corral of wagons the fires were kindled, and the mess cooks
prepared the simple meal of bread, already cooked, and coffee.
At daylight in the morning the oxen were brought in and yoked, the
blankets tied up and thrown into the wagons, and long before the sun
appeared the train was in motion. Travel was kept up until ten or
eleven o’clock, depending on the weather. If it was hot they stopped
earlier; if cool, they travelled longer. Then camp was made, the wagons
were again corralled, the herds turned out, and the principal meal
of the day, which might be called breakfast or dinner, was prepared.
Perhaps during the morning the hunters had killed buffalo or antelope,
and this with bread satisfied the keen appetites of the men. If fresh
meat had not been killed, there was always an abundance of dried meat,
which every one liked. At two or three o’clock the herds were again
brought in, and the train was set in motion, the journey continuing
until dark or after. So the quiet routine of the march was kept up
until the settlements were reached.
The whole train was in charge of the wagon-master, who was its absolute
governing head. He fixed the length of the march, the time for starting
and halting. If a difficult stream was to be crossed, he rode ahead of
the train and directed the crossing of the first team, and then of all
the others, not leaving the place until the difficulty had been wholly
overcome. Besides looking after a multitude of details, such as the
shoeing of the oxen, the greasing of the wagons, which took place every
two or three days, and the condition of the animals in the yokes, he
also issued rations to the men, and was, in fact, the fountain of all
authority. With the cavalyard[8] were always driven a number of loose
work-oxen, and if an animal in the yoke was injured, or became lame or
footsore, it was turned into the herd and replaced by a fresh ox.
[8] Sp. _caballada_: literally, a herd of horses; more broadly,
a herd of horses and work-cattle. Also pronounced cávaya,
and spelled in a variety of ways.
When the axles of the wagons were to be greased, the wheels were lifted
from the ground by a very long lever, on the end of which several men
threw themselves to raise the wagon, so that the wheel could be taken
off. If one of the teamsters became sick or disabled, it was customary
for the wagon-master to drive the leading team.
The train often consisted of from twenty to thirty wagons, most of
them--in later years--laden with bales of buffalo robes on the way to
the settlements, and returned full of goods. The front end of the wagon
inclined somewhat forward, and about half-way down the front was a
box, secured by a lock, in which the teamster kept the spare keys for
his ox-bows, various other tools, and some of his own small personal
belongings.
Two hunters, one a white man, and the other a Mexican, or Indian,
accompanied the train, and each morning, as soon as it was ready to
start, they set out to kill game, and usually when the train came to
the appointed camping-place, they were found there resting in the
shade, with a load of meat. Sometimes, if they killed an animal close
to the road, they loaded it on a horse and brought it back to the
trail, so that it could be thrown into a wagon when the train passed.
The Shawnees and Delawares were great hunters, and almost always when
the train stopped for noon, and their cattle had been turned out and
the meal eaten, these men would be seen striding off over the prairie,
each with a long rifle over his shoulder.
In the train there were several messes. Colonel Bent and any member of
his family, or visitor, messed together, the white teamsters and the
Mexicans also messed together, while the Delawares and Shawnees, by
preference, messed by themselves. Each man had his own quart cup and
plate, and carried his own knife in its sheath. Forks or spoons were
not known. Each man marked his own plate and cup, usually by rudely
scratching his initials or mark on it, and when he had finished using
it, he washed or cleansed it himself. Each mess chose its cook from
among its members. The food eaten by these travellers, though simple,
was wholesome and abundant. Meat was the staple; but they also had
bread and abundant coffee, and occasionally boiled dried apples and
rice. Usually there was sugar, though sometimes they had to depend on
the old-fashioned “long sweetening”; that is, New Orleans molasses,
which was imported in hogsheads for trade with the Indians.
The train was occasionally attacked by Indians, but they were always
beaten off. In 1847 the Comanches attacked the wagons at Pawnee Fork,
but they were repulsed, and Red Sleeves, their chief, was killed. The
fork is called by the Indians Red Sleeves’ Creek, in remembrance of
this affair. Charles Hallock, who made the journey with one of these
trains, wrote an account of an attack by Comanches, which was printed
in _Harper’s Magazine_, in 1859.
After the return to the post in autumn, the cattle were turned out into
the herd, wagons ranged around outside of the corral, while the yokes
and chains for each bull team were cared for by the driver of the team.
Usually they were carried into the fort and piled up in some shady
place. The keys for the bows were tied to the yokes, and the chains lay
close to them.
Rarely a few ox-bows were lost by being taken away by the Indians, who
greatly coveted the hickory wood for the manufacture of bows. There was
no hickory nearer than Council Grove, and if an Indian could get hold
of an ox-bow, he steamed and straightened it, and from it made a useful
bow.
Back at the fort only a few men were left; the clerks, a trader or two,
and a few laborers and herders. There were frequent calls there by
Indians, chiefly war-parties stopping to secure supplies of arms and
ammunition. Hunting parties occasionally called to procure ordinary
goods. Parties of white travellers came and stayed for a little while,
and then went on again. During this time especial precautions were
taken against trouble with the Indians. At night, the fort was closed
early, and conditions sometimes arose under which admission to the fort
might be refused by the trader. This watchfulness, which was never
relaxed, was not caused by any special fear of Indian attacks, but was
merely the carrying out of those measures of prudence which Colonel
Bent had always practised, and which he had so thoroughly inculcated in
his men that they had become fixed habits.
Usually the Cheyenne Indians were freely admitted to the fort, and were
allowed to wander through it, more or less at will. They might go up on
the roof and into the watch-tower, but were warned by the chiefs not
to touch anything. They might go about and look, and, if they wished
to, ask questions, but they were not to take things in their hands.
Toward the close of the day, as the sun got low, a chief or principal
man went through the fort, and said to the young men who were lounging
here and there: “Now, soon these people will wish to close the gates of
this house, and you had better now go out and return to your camps.”
When this was said the young men always obeyed, for in those days the
chiefs had control over their young men; they listened to what was said
to them and obeyed.
On one occasion a war-party of Shoshoni came down from the mountains
and visited Bent’s Fort, and insisted on coming in. The trader in
charge, probably Murray, declined to let them in, and when they
endeavored to force their way into the post, he killed one of them,
when the others went away. The Indian’s body was buried at some
little distance from the fort, and his scalp was afterward given to a
war-party of Cheyennes and Arapahoes.
* * * * *
In winter the scenes at the fort were very different. Now it harbored
a much larger population. All the employees were there, except a few
traders and teamsters and laborers, who might be out visiting the
different camps, and who were constantly going and returning. The
greater part of the laborers and teamsters had little or nothing to do,
and spent most of the winter in idleness, lounging about the fort, or
occasionally going out hunting. Besides the regular inhabitants there
were many visitors, some of whom spent a long time at the fort. Hunters
and trappers from the mountains, often with their families, came in to
purchase goods for the next summer’s journey, or to visit, and then,
having supplied their wants, returned to their mountain camps. All
visitors were welcome to stay as long as they pleased.
Though the fort was full of idle men, nevertheless time did not hang
heavy on their hands. There were amusements of various sorts, hunting
parties, games, and not infrequent dances, in which the moccasined
trappers, in their fringed, beaded, or porcupine-quilled buckskin
garments swung merry-faced, laughing Indian women in the rough but
hearty dances of the frontier. To the employees of the fort liquor
was ever dealt out with a sparing hand, and there is no memory of any
trouble among the people who belonged at the post. It was a contented
and cheerful family that dwelt within these four adobe walls.
Perhaps the most important persons at the fort, after the directing
head who governed the whole organization, were the traders, who dealt
out goods to the Indians in the post, receiving their furs in payment,
and who were sent off to distant camps with loads of trade goods, to
gather from them the robes which they had prepared, or to buy horses
and mules.
Of these traders there were seven or eight, of whom the following are
remembered: Murray, an Irishman known to the Indians as Pau-ē-sīh´,
Flat Nose; Fisher, an American, Nō-mā-nī´, Fish; Hatcher, a Kentuckian,
Hē-hīm´nī-hō-nāh´, Freckled Hand; Thomas Boggs, a Missourian, Wŏhk´
po-hŭm´, White Horse; John Smith, a Missourian, Pŏ-ō-om´mats, Gray
Blanket; Kit Carson, a Kentuckian, Vī-hiu-nĭs´, Little Chief, and
Charles Davis, a Missourian, Ho-nīh´, Wolf.
L. Maxwell, Wō-wĭhph´ pai-ī-sīh´, Big Nostrils, was the superintendent
or foreman at the fort, but had nothing to do with the trading. He
looked after the herds and laborers and fort matters in general.
Murray, who was a good hunter and trapper, and a brave man, was one of
the two more important men among the traders. He usually remained at
the fort, and was almost always left in charge when the train went to
the States. Hatcher, however, was probably the best trader, and the
most valued of the seven.
Each of these traders had especial friendly relations with some
particular tribe of Indians, and each was naturally sent off to the
tribe that he knew best. Besides this, often when villages of Indians
came and camped somewhere near the post, the chiefs would request that
a particular man be sent to their village to trade. Sometimes to a very
large village two or three traders would be sent, the work being more
than one man could handle in a short period of time.
When it was determined that a trader should go out, he and the
chief clerk talked over the trip. The trader enumerated the goods
required, and these were laid out, charged to him, and then packed for
transportation to the camp. If the journey were over level prairie,
this transportation was by wagon, but if over rough country pack-mules
were used. If on arrival at the camp the trader found that the trade
was going to be large, and that he required more goods, he sent
back his wagon, or some of his animals, to the post for additional
supplies. When he returned from his trip and turned in his robes, he
was credited with the goods that he had received. The trade for robes
ended in the spring, and during the summer the traders often went to
different villages to barter for horses and mules.
A certain proportion of the trade with the Indians was for spirits,
but this proportion was small. The Indians demanded liquor, and though
Colonel Bent was strongly opposed to giving it to them, he knew very
well that unless he did something toward satisfying their demands,
whiskey traders from Santa Fé or Taos might come into the territory
and gratify the Indians’ longing for drink, and at the same time take
away the trade from the fort. Two or three times a year, therefore,
after many visits from the chiefs, asking for liquor, promising to
take charge of it and see to its distribution, and to be responsible
that payment should be made for it, a lot of liquor would be sent out
to a camp, packed in kegs of varying sizes. A trader coming into the
villages would deposit his load in the lodge of the chief. The Indians
wishing to trade would come to the lodge and offer what they had to
trade, and each would be assigned a keg of a certain size, sufficient
to pay for the robes, horses, or mules that he sold. Each Indian then
tied a piece of cloth or a string to his keg, so as to mark it as his,
and it remained in the chief’s lodge, unopened for the present. When
the trade had been completed, the trader left the village, and not
until he had gone some distance did the chief permit the Indians to
take their kegs of liquor. Sometimes while the traders were in a camp
trading ordinary goods, a party of men from Taos or Santa Fé would come
into the camp with whiskey, and then at once there would be an end of
all legitimate business until the Indians had become intoxicated, drunk
all the spirits, and become sober again. No trader ever wished to have
whiskey in the camp where he was working.
We commonly think of the trade at one of these old forts as being
wholly for furs, but at Bent’s Fort this was not the case. In later
times furs--that is to say, buffalo robes--were indeed a chief article
of trade, and were carried back to the States to be sold there; but
a great trade also went on in horses and mules, of which the Indians
possessed great numbers, and of which they were always getting more.
These horses and mules were taken back to the settlements and sold
there, but they were also sold to any one who would buy them. The
cavalyard was a part of every train which returned to the States, the
animals being herded by Mexicans and being in charge of a trader, who
disposed of them when they reached the settlements.
The Indians frequently paid for their goods in horses and mules, but
this was not the only source from which horses came. About 1845 William
Bent sent his brother, George Bent, with Tom Boggs and Hatcher, down
into Mexico to trade for horses and mules. They brought back great
herds, and with them a celebrated rider known at the fort, and in later
years to all the Cheyennes, as One-eyed Juan, whose sole occupation
was breaking horses, a vocation which he followed until he was too old
to get into the saddle. It was said of him that when he wished to show
off he would put a saddle on a wild horse, and placing a Mexican dollar
in each one of the huge wooden stirrups, would mount the horse, and no
matter what the horse might do, these dollars were always found under
the soles of the rider’s feet when the animal stopped bucking.
While the chief market at which the horses and mules were sold was St.
Louis, yet on at least one occasion Hatcher took a herd of horses which
had been bought wild from the Comanches and broken by the Mexicans at
the fort over to Taos and Santa Fé, and sold them there. Occasionally
they sold good broken horses to the Indians for robes.
It must be remembered that a large proportion of these horses purchased
from the Indians, and especially from the Comanches, were wild horses
taken by the Comanches from the great herds which ran loose on the
ranches in Mexico. Practically all these horses bore Mexican brands.
After the emigration to California began, herds of horses and mules
were sent up to the emigrant trail on the North Platte River, to be
sold to emigrants on their way to California. On one occasion Hatcher,
with a force of Mexican herders, was sent up there in charge of a great
herd of horses and mules, and remained alongside the trail until he
had disposed of all his animals. He carried back with him the gold and
silver money received for them in leather panniers, packed on the backs
of animals.
Before starting on another similar trip, Hatcher said to Colonel Bent:
“It is useless to load down our animals with sugar, coffee and flour,
to carry up there. We will take only enough to last us to the trail,
and there we can buy all we need from the emigrants. Moreover, they
have great numbers of broken-down horses, and it would be a good idea
to buy these for little or nothing, and then drive them back here and
let them get rested and fat, and then we can take them up there and
sell them again.” The wisdom of this was at once apparent, and the
suggestion was followed out.
Important members of the fort household were Chipita; Andrew Green, the
bourgeois’s cook; the old French tailor, whose name is forgotten, and
the carpenter and the blacksmith.
Chipita was the housekeeper and laundress, the principal woman at the
post, and the one who, on the occasion of dances or other festivities,
managed these affairs. She was a large, very good-natured, and kindly
woman, and is said to have been half French and half Mexican. She spoke
French readily. She was married to one of the employees of the fort.
Andrew Green, the black cook, has already been spoken of as having
ultimately been set free.
The old French tailor had come up from New Orleans. He had a shop in
one of the rooms of the fort, where he used to make and repair clothing
for the men. Much of this clothing was of buckskin, which he himself
dressed, for he was a good tanner.
In winter the teamsters and laborers usually spent their evenings in
playing cards and checkers in the quarters by the light of tallow
candles, the only lights they had to burn. These candles were made at
the fort, Chipita doing the work. They were moulded of buffalo tallow,
in old-fashioned tin moulds, perhaps a dozen in a set. The work of
fixing the wicks in the moulds occupied considerable time. The tallow
was then melted, the refuse skimmed from it, the fluid grease poured
into the moulds, and the wicks, which hung from the top, were cut off
with a pair of scissors. Then the moulds were dipped in a barrel of
water standing by, to cool the candles, and presently they were quite
hard, and could be removed from the moulds, ready for use.
In the winter Chipita would sometimes vary the monotony of the life by
getting up a candy-pulling frolic, in which the laborers and teamsters
all took part, and which was more or less a jollification. During the
afternoon and evening the black New Orleans molasses, which was used in
the Indian trade, was boiled, and after supper the people gathered in
one of the rooms and pulled the candy. Candy such as this was a great
luxury, and was eagerly eaten by those who could get it.
The work of the carpenter and blacksmith, whose shops stood at the back
of the fort, was chiefly on the wagons, which they kept in good order.
For them winter was the busy season, for it was their duty to have
everything in good order and ready for the train to start out in April.
In the store of the fort--presumably for sale to travellers or for
the use of the proprietors--were to be found such unusual luxuries as
butter-crackers, Bent’s water-crackers, candies of various sorts, and,
most remarkable of all, great jars of preserved ginger of the kind
which fifty or sixty years ago used to be brought from China. Elderly
people of the present day can remember, when they were children,
seeing these blue china jars, which were carried by lines of vegetable
rope passed around the necks of the jars, and can remember also how
delicious this ginger was when they were treated to a taste of it.
At the post were some creatures which greatly astonished the Indians.
On one of his trips to St. Louis St. Vrain purchased a pair of goats,
intending to have them draw a cart for some of the children. On the
way across the plains, however, one of them was killed, but the one
that survived lived at the fort for some years and used to clamber all
over the walls and buildings. The creature was a great curiosity to the
plains people, who had never before seen such an animal, and they never
wearied of watching its climbing and its promenading along the walls
of the fort. As it grew older it became cross, and seemed to take
pleasure in scattering little groups of Indian children and chasing
them about. The Southern Cheyennes went but little into the mountains
at this time, and but few of them had ever seen the mountain sheep. If
they had, they would not have regarded the domestic goat with so much
wonder.