Produced by KD Weeks, MWS and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note:
This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects.
Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_.
Several minor errors, attributable to the printer, have been corrected.
Please see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details
regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its
preparation.
SEEKING FORTUNE IN AMERICA
[Illustration: THE WRITER AT CALGARY, 1891.]
SEEKING FORTUNE
IN AMERICA
BY
F. W. GREY
_WITH A FRONTISPIECE_
LONDON
SMITH, ELDER & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE
1912
[All rights reserved]
Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
At the Ballantyne Press, Edinburgh
PREFACE
In the early ’eighties lads who preferred exercise to examinations
looked abroad for work, and parents who feared their failure in
competitions agreed with them. Ditties like—
“To the West, to the West, to the land of the free,
Where the mighty Missouri rolls down to the sea,”
had long moved our agricultural class America-wards; perhaps the next
line—
“Where a man is a man if he’s willing to toil,”
did not so much appeal to middle-class youth, but there were always
visions of “broncho-busting” and rope-swinging. Moreover, no one in
England, of whatever class, knew what “toil” meant, as understood in
Canada and the States.
Land was easy to get in those days, free grants of 160 acres on certain
conditions of exploitation which were often evaded. After weary search
from Iowa northward I reached a rolling country dotted with small lakes
and groves, leading up to the beautiful valley of the Little
Saskatchewan. My driver said that some land which I fancied here was
certainly taken up, but I saw a Scotchman ploughing and we foregathered.
He told me that the other holders around were “jumping” new grants
elsewhere, and that the little “breaking” which they had done did not
fulfil conditions. Investigation proved this, and I bought two square
miles at prairie value from the railway whose line was to traverse this
very land. My son eventually did not use it, and, twenty years later,
still as “prairie,” it fetched enough to cover the original price _plus_
accumulated interest and taxes.
My son was right; farming, as I saw it in my wanderings, was not
attractive. In Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Ontario, the surroundings
were delightful, but profits seemed small; while the prairie, from the
Canadian Pacific Railway down to Iowa, though certainly productive, was
to my eyes as heart-breaking as the plains of India.
Travelling south from Buffalo, after a visit to the Guelph Agricultural
College, which later received my son, a farmer joined me. He was Yankee
to look at, but his tongue was Devonshire. It attracted a rough-looking
customer in our carriage; he was Cumberland, and we three exchanged
ideas. Cumberland was a wanderer who had worked all over the States up
to the Pacific; Devonshire was naturalised, and thereon Cumberland took
him to task. Devonshire, he said, had sold his birthright for a mess of
pottage. Devonshire submitted that he could live on the pottage, while
Cumberland did not seem to thrive on the birthright. Both had been
agricultural labourers at home, and now Devonshire had a little holding
nestling in one of the lovely vales which we were traversing. He could
live thereon, certainly, but what a life! Cumberland, I think, had a
better time, while able for the varied work which he could always find.
Better for either would have been our army, navy, or police. That class
does not know the soldier’s advantages when he has risen to sergeant and
stays in the army.
Sore though my son’s struggle was he was right not to farm. Certainly he
lost his capital, but this is the normal English lot in the States; at
his mine in Texas a man came for a watchman’s job who had started with
£4000! Such, it seems, is the “footing” which the gentle, handicapped by
their traditions, must necessarily pay. Nevertheless, those traditions
are an asset, as this book shows; so are horsemanship; the athletics and
the “straight left” which public schools taught in those days if they
taught little else; also a straight eye and steady nerve behind a
pistol. My son’s experience may not tempt others of his class to seek
fortune in America, but if they do so they will learn therefrom what to
expect, in what spirit to meet it, and what equipment they need.
L. J. H. GREY.
_March 1912._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
PAGE
"Thousand Pounders"—Ontario Agricultural College—Political 1
Meetings—Volunteer Artillery—Value of the Agricultural
College
CHAPTER II
Calgary—A Cow-puncher—"Roping"—Life on a Ranch—A Calgary 11
Hail-storm—“Gun-plays” and "Bad-men"—Sarci Indians
CHAPTER III
Road-agents—“Roping” Contests—Broncho-busting—Strathclair—A 24
Blizzard—Lumber Camps
CHAPTER IV
An Injured Knee—The "Laird"—Kit destroyed by Fire—Hunting 31
round Strathclair—Trapping—“Batching”
CHAPTER V
Chicago—American Business Methods—Work as a 38
Carbonator—Chicago Fair—“Hard-luck” Stories—Remittance-men
CHAPTER VI
Looking for Work—An Englishman’s Disadvantages—Addressing 47
Envelopes—Running a Lift—Bogus Advertisements—Various Jobs
CHAPTER VII
Life under Difficulties—Drawbacks of a Public-school 55
Training—Hints on Emigration—Pneumonia—Unemployment in
Chicago, 1893
CHAPTER VIII
Hard Times—Health restored—Rabbit-catching—Hunting in Iowa—A 64
Gentleman Tramp—The Hobo Business—Free Railway Travelling
CHAPTER IX
Toronto—An Interest in a Mine—The Railway Strike of 73
1894—Stranded at La Junta, Colorado—Strike
Incidents—Troops called out
CHAPTER X
Golden—Pack-horse Difficulties—Camping out—Prospecting in 80
British Columbia—On an Asphaltum Mine in Texas
CHAPTER XI
Cline—Bunk-houses—Work on a Rock-crusher—Mexican Dancing and 88
Music
CHAPTER XII
Trouble at the Dance—A New Superintendent—Shots in the 96
Dark—Arrest of Bud—With a Surveying Party
CHAPTER XIII
Swimming-holes—Hunting in West Texas—Fishing in the Nueces 104
River—Jim Conners—Foreman Betner—A Runaway Car
CHAPTER XIV
A Sunday Fishing Party—"Bad-men"—Ben Thompson and other 113
Desperadoes—The Story of a Hot Spring
CHAPTER XV
Coyotes—Wild Turkeys—Lynching and Jury Trial in 122
Texas—Pistol-shooting—Negro Vitality
CHAPTER XVI
A "Periodical"—Italian Treachery—Bitumen Extractors—The 129
Mexican Disregard for Orders—In Charge of the Stills—A
Vote Canvasser
CHAPTER XVII
Elections in Texas—Feuds and Shooting Affrays—Family 138
Pride—Prohibition
CHAPTER XVIII
A "Grandstander"—The Sheriff takes Possession—Night 148
Watchman—Monte Jim—Further Trouble
CHAPTER XIX
Promoted to Foreman—Overwork and Eye-strain—Mexican 157
Traits—Amateur Doctor—A Rival Asphalt Company—Its Failure
CHAPTER XX
More American Business Methods—Trip to Corpus 165
Christi—Trouble at the Mine—West Texas as a Health
Resort—Expenses of the Simple Life
CHAPTER XXI
"Northers"—Almost Frozen—The Mexican Indian—Cold-blooded 172
Ingratitude—Mexican Untrustworthiness
CHAPTER XXII
Employed by a Paving Company—The Growth of Los Angeles—Its 180
Land Values—A Centre for Tourists
CHAPTER XXIII
"Graft"—Seeking Contracts in Los Angeles—In Charge of Street 189
Work—Crooked Business
CHAPTER XXIV
Bribery and Corruption—The Good Government League—Servant 196
Problem in California—The Climate and its Effect on
Wages—Off to Guadalajara
CHAPTER XXV
The Barber Company—Guadalajara—Mexican Mendacity—Don Miguel 204
Ahumada—His Humanity and Justice
CHAPTER XXVI
The Mexican Workman—His Remembrance of a Grudge—The 213
_Commissaria_—Private Feuds—American _versus_ English
CHAPTER XXVII
Bull-fighting—Mexican Etiquette—The Police Department and 219
its Difficulties—Treatment of Habitual Criminals—The Army
CHAPTER XXVIII
Federal Rurales—Robbery by Servants—Wholesale Thieving—Lack 229
of Police Discipline—A Story of Roosevelt
CHAPTER XXIX
Tequila—Mexican Respect for the White Man—Personal Vengeance 237
preferred to Law—Mexican Stoicism—Victims of Red Tape
CHAPTER XXX
Accidents at the Mines—Mexico City—Peculiar 243
Laws—"Evidence"—A Theft of Straw
CHAPTER XXXI
Solitary Confinement—Mexican Rogues—The Humorous Side—A 249
Member of the Smart Set—The Milkmen
CHAPTER XXXII
Carrying Firearms—The Business of Mexico—Its Management by 257
Foreigners—Real Estate and Mining Booms—Foreign
Capital—Imports and Exports
CHAPTER XXXIII
Climate of Guadalajara—American Tramps—Courtship under 266
Difficulties—Influence of the Priesthood—The _Metayer_
System
CHAPTER XXXIV
Curious Customs—The Abuse of Concessions—Flagrant 273
Examples—Prospects for Foreigners in Mexico—President
Diaz—Mr. Denny’s Life-story
CHAPTER XXXV
Mr. Denny and a Mining Claim—Wholesale Killing 282
averted—Stories of Shooting Escapades
CHAPTER XXXVI
Macdonald Institute at Guelph—Agricultural College—Their 292
Value to Students—Back to Work through Texas
CHAPTER XXXVII
Puebla, the Misgoverned—Justice under Colonel Cabrera—Royal 300
Family of Chihuahua—Tampico—Presidents Diaz and Madero
Seeking Fortune in America
CHAPTER I
"Thousand-pounders"—Ontario Agricultural College—Political
Meetings—Volunteer Artillery—Value of the Agricultural College.
The Western States and Provinces of North America thrive on our
“thousand-pounders” and “remittance-men.” Some years ago in one small
prairie town of Iowa there were 105 young Britons on the books of the
local club. One of these (dubbed Sitting-bull after a famous brave) was
doing fairly well in a milk-walk; a few others earned livings as farm
hands; the rest were, said the natives, “doing no good.” How should
they, unless to the manner born? Four young sons of farmers and parsons,
all neighbours from Owersby, Walesby, and other Lincolnshire "by’s,"
bought a “raw” farm on instalments in the Red River Valley. A
land-seeker was sent there by the owner. “He has not got us yet,” said
the lads; “we are ready with our instalment.” But he got them at last,
with their improvements—homestead, stable, well, and many acres under
plough. That is how the “thousand-pounders” nourish the West; not that
these Lincolnshire men had so much between them, but many collapse with
even more capital, for lack of experience. And even afterwards the
experience, thus bought at a long price, does not generally lead to
much.
In 1890, 1280 acres of carefully-chosen land awaited me in Manitoba,
bought from and traversed by the Manitoba and North-Western Railway. To
qualify myself for farming this land I went to Guelph, in Ontario,
Canada.
The Ontario Agricultural College is recognised as one of the finest
institutions of its kind on the continent of America, because of the
thoroughness of its methods and the class of graduates it turns out.
There are graduates of this college holding professorships in many of
the agricultural colleges of the States, others in charge of large
farming interests, and also of some of the largest dairies in the
country.
Students have come here from Mexico, Argentine, and even from Japan,
sent by their respective countries. I am sorry to say that the majority
of us English students did not come up to the general standard,
frittered our time away, and thought more of standing high in the
estimation of the girls down-town than in that of the professors. The
great handicap under which an English student labours at the college is
the fact that he has no practical knowledge of farming while he is
trying to learn the technical and scientific part. I could not, for
instance, appreciate duly the fact that there were over a hundred
different varieties of wheat, when I could not tell wheat from barley
growing in the fields. At a live-stock examination I once attended, the
examiner had two sheep in the room. “Now,” he said, “here are a Cotswold
and a Shropshire ram; I want you to give me what are the best points of
each class, and then try to find them on the rams in front of you.” I
had all the good points of both sheep as per text-book on the tip of my
tongue, and got them off in good style, and then proceeded to
demonstrate them on the specimens in front of me. When I got through,
the examiner said, “Very good indeed, but unfortunately the one you are
describing as a Cotswold is the Shropshire, and _vice versa_.” And the
worst of it is, that to this day I do not know if he was joking or not,
as he gave me a “pass.”
The college could accommodate about two hundred students, most of whom
boarded inside, though this was optional. The course was of three years
for the degree of B.S.A.—Bachelor of the Science of Agriculture. They
also used to give a certificate at the end of the second year for those
students who could not complete a full course. The first year’s work was
to a large extent general education, for the benefit of the farmers’
lads, being courses in literature, mathematics, and chemistry, though
there were also lectures on agriculture, dairy-work, and veterinary
science. The lectures were in the mornings and every alternate
afternoon, the other afternoons being filled with practical work on the
farm, for which the students were paid, according to their ability, from
1 cent to 10 cents per hour. The second year there is more of
agriculture, chemistry, veterinary science, &c., and less of other
matters; and the same applies to the third year. During the long
holidays from June to September the students who so desire can remain
and work on the farm under pay. This enables students practically to pay
their way through college without assistance from their people. The
college farm consists of some 600 acres, some 200 of which are under
cultivation, though a large tract of this is given up to experimental
work with different kinds of grains, different admixtures of soils, &c.
The college also grows all varieties of fruits and flowers that do well
in that climate. They have fine specimens of the different breeds of
cattle, hogs, and sheep, for use in the lecture-rooms; also a splendidly
equipped dairy, where cheese- and butter-making is taught.
For the athletic side of education there was a fine gymnasium and
swimming-pool, and a recreation field for football, baseball, &c. Here,
we English students were in our element, and, so far as I remember,
during the two sessions I attended lectures at the college the football
club was almost entirely composed of Englishmen, though there were some
fine Canadian players in the team also. The students were supposed to be
fed entirely on the products of the farm, and the meals were certainly
unequalled in any hotel in the city. Still we kicked on general
principles, as men do almost everywhere. On one occasion the boys
thought they were getting rhubarb-pie and rhubarb-pudding too
frequently, and sent up a note to that effect to the president, who, of
course, ignored it altogether. Then, of course, it became a matter of
honour that the rhubarb should stop, and next morning there was not a
plant of rhubarb growing on the college grounds. It cost the students a
fine of $1 per head, but every one was happy.
The college was supported by the government of the province, which at
that time was of the “Grit” or Liberal party, and the students were all
enthusiastic politicians whenever they could get off in the evening to
attend a political meeting. I remember one night I was on my way to a
dance, but was prevailed upon to go first to a political meeting with
the boys. When we arrived, one hundred strong, at the City Hall, we were
refused admittance. But, putting the football team at the head of the
wedge, we soon arrived close up to the stage. On either side of the
stage were hoses and nozzles for use in case of fire, and some brilliant
genius took one down and turned it on us. Then the fun really began, for
we stormed the stage, got hold of both hoses, and watered up that
assembly good and plenty. We were most of us pretty damp, and I know, as
I clambered down a fire-escape, that my shirt front was not in condition
for a ballroom.
Our president, Mr. Mills, was one of the finest men I have ever come
across, and the boys all thought a great deal of him. There was a door
between the college and his private house, and he used to say that he
never allowed college matters to pass that door. No matter what trouble
you got into in the college, you were always a welcome guest in the
president’s house. I early got into the bad graces of the Professor of
Agriculture, who had no love for English students, and the word was
passed to the farm-foreman to see that no easy jobs came our way. This
finally led to my rustication. I had been invited out to an “At Home”
one evening, and that afternoon happened to be hoeing sugar-beets when
the farm-foreman came along. I asked him to let me off early, so that I
could wash and change my clothes. He, thinking to be sarcastic by giving
what he thought to be an impossible task for me, said, “You can go when
you have hoed five more rows.” I asked him to mark them out, and then
started in to make the weeds fly, and, incidentally, some beets also. I
got through about five o’clock, shouldered my hoe, and started home,
when I met the foreman. He asked me where I was going, and I told him I
was through. He came back and found it as I had said, and then told me
to go back to work, as he was only joking. I told him I did not
understand jokes of this sort, and started off. Then he lost his temper,
ran after me, and tried to use force to stop me. He was, of course, much
stronger than I was, but, unfortunately, did not know how to handle
himself; so after a short session I went on my way rejoicing. When I
returned to my room that night I found a note from the agricultural
professor—who was in charge, as the president was away—giving me
twenty-four hours to clear out, for insubordination and assaulting my
superior. I borrowed a tent, and went into camp. One of my friends
down-town happened to be a big political gun, and the next time I was at
his house he asked me all about it. I told him the facts, and within a
week I got a letter from the Minister of Agriculture asking for proofs,
which I forwarded in the shape of letters from other students who had
been working with me at the time. By return mail I got a letter ordering
my reinstatement; and the next morning, when I applied for my old room
it was given me without more ado.
Guelph has two Volunteer Artillery companies, one filled with students
from the college, and one with town boys, four guns to each battery. I
joined the college battery, and after a couple of months of steady drill
in Guelph we were taken out to camp at Niagara, on the lake near the
falls. There were five or six other batteries there also, some cavalry,
and some infantry. One day while standing listening to the band I got
into conversation with an artilleryman from Welland, and after some talk
found, to my astonishment, that he had been a room-mate of mine at
Westward Ho. Since then I have met two or three other boys from the old
school. It was wonderful how quickly they licked us into shape, for the
Canadian lads are, like the Americans of the south and west, natural
soldiers, being bright, intelligent, anxious to learn, and able to stand
considerable hardship—as was proven in the Riel rebellion, and also, I
think, in Africa, where some of my old Guelph friends went. That the
college turned out good men is proved in the person of the president. He
had worked his way through college practically without assistance from
his people, took his degree at the head of his class, and with it a
professorship in the Mississippi Agricultural College. Then, after
various other positions, he was selected as president of his former
college on the retirement of our old head.
I would advise no young English lad to go to the college until he has
worked at least a year or two on some Canadian farm to get the practical
knowledge necessary to really get the good out of his college course. He
should also have the rudiments of a good general education. Here I might
mention that the college did not teach spelling; in this country it is
not thought as much of as in England, and nearly all Americans are bad
spellers. For instance, the business man who, on reading about
Roosevelt’s spelling reform, said that he could not see anything new
about it, as that was the way he had spelled all his life! If here and
in other places I seem to roast Americans, they must not be offended, as
it is meant in all good nature; and they must also remember that I have
been roasted by them for the past sixteen years, and this is the first
time I have had a chance to get back at them without giving them a
chance to answer me.