X. THE PANIC OF '73

by Andy Adams

　　THE PANIC OF '73I have never forgotten those encouraging words of my first employer.Friends tided my finances over, and letters passed between my bankerfriend and myself, resulting in an appointment to meet him at FortWorth early in February. There was no direct railroad at the time, theroute being by St. Louis and Texarkana, with a long trip by stage tothe meeting point. No definite agreement existed between us; he wassimply paying me a visit, with the view of looking into the cattletrade then existing between our respective States. There was noobligation whatever, yet I had hopes of interesting him sufficientlyto join issues with me in driving a herd of cattle. I wish I coulddescribe the actual feelings of a man who has had money and lostit. Never in my life did such opportunities present themselves forinvestment as were tendered to me that winter. No less than half adozen brands of cattle were offered to me at the former terms of halfcash and the balance to suit my own convenience. But I lacked themeans to even provision a wagon for a month's work, and I wascompelled to turn my back on all bargains, many of which wereduplicates of my former successes. I was humbled to the very dust; Ibowed my neck to the heel of circumstances, and looked forward to thecoming of my casual acquaintance.I have read a few essays on the relation of money to a community. Noneof our family were ever given to theorizing, yet I know how it feelsto be moneyless, my experience with Texas fever affording me apost-graduate course. Born with a restless energy, I have lived in thepit of despair for the want of money, and again, with the use of it,have bent a legislature to my will and wish. All of which is foreignto my tale, and I hasten on. During the first week in February I drovein to Fort Worth to await the arrival of my friend, Calvin Hunter,banker and stockman of Council Grove, Kansas. Several letters wereawaiting me in the town, notifying me of his progress, and in due timehe arrived and was welcomed. The next morning we started, driving agood span of mules to a buckboard, expecting to cover the distance tothe Brazos in two days. There were several ranches at which we couldtouch, en route, but we loitered along, making wide detours in orderto drive through cattle, not a feature of the country escaping theattention of my quiet little companion. The soil, the native grasses,the natural waters, the general topography of the country, rich inits primal beauty, furnished a panorama to the eye both pleasing andexhilarating. But the main interest centred in the cattle, thousandsof which were always in sight, lingering along the watercourses orgrazing at random.We reached the Edwards ranch early the second evening. In the twodays' travel, possibly twenty thousand cattle came under our immediateobservation. All the country was an open range, brands intermingling,all ages and conditions, running from a sullen bull to seven-year-oldbeeves, or from a yearling heifer to the grandmother of youngergenerations. My anxiety to show the country and its cattle met ahearty second in Mr. Hunter, and abandoning the buckboard, we tookhorses and rode up the Brazos River as far as old Fort Belknap. Allcattle were wintering strong. Turning south, we struck the Clear Forkabove my range and spent a night at the ranch, where my men had builta second cabin, connecting the two by a hallway. After riding throughmy stock for two days, we turned back for the Brazos. My ranch handshad branded thirty-one hundred calves the fall before, and whileriding over the range I was delighted to see so many young steers inmy different brands. But our jaunt had only whetted the appetite ofmy guest to see more of the country, and without any waste of time westarted south with the buckboard, going as far as Comanche County.Every day's travel brought us in contact with cattle for sale; theprices were an incentive, but we turned east and came back up thevalley of the Brazos. I offered to continue our sightseeing, butmy guest pleaded for a few days' time until he could hear from hisbanking associates. I needed a partner and needed one badly, andwas determined to interest Mr. Hunter if it took a whole month. Andthereby hangs a tale.The native Texan is not distinguished for energy or ambition. Hissuccess in cattle is largely due to the fact that nearly all the workcan be done on horseback. Yet in that particular field he stands atthe head of his class; for whether in Montana or his own sunny Texas,when it comes to handling cattle, from reading brands to cutting atrainload of beeves, he is without a peer. During the palmy days ofthe Cherokee Strip, a Texan invited Captain Stone, a Kansas City man,to visit his ranch in Tom Green County and put up a herd of steers tobe driven to Stone's beef ranch in the Cherokee Outlet. The invitationwas accepted, and on the arrival of the Kansas City man at the Texan'sranch, host and guest indulged in a friendly visit of several days'duration. It was the northern cowman's first visit to the Lone StarState, and he naturally felt impatient to see the cattle which heexpected to buy. But the host made no movement to show the stockuntil patience ceased to be a virtue, when Captain Stone moved anadjournment of the social session and politely asked to be shown asample of the country's cattle. The two cowmen were fast friends, andno offense was intended or taken; but the host assured his guestthere was no hurry, offering to get up horses and show the stockthe following day. Captain Stone yielded, and the next morning theystarted, but within a few miles met a neighbor, when all threedismounted in the shade of a tree. Commonplace chat of the countryoccupied the attention of the two Texans until hunger or someother warning caused one of them to look at his watch, when it wasdiscovered to be three o'clock in the afternoon. It was then too latein the day to make an extensive ride, and the ranchman invited hisneighbor and guest to return to the ranch for the night. Another daywas wasted in entertaining the neighbor, the northern cowman, in themeantime, impatient and walking on nettles until a second start wasmade to see the cattle. It was a foggy morning, and they started ona different route from that previously taken, the visiting ranchmangoing along. Unnoticed, a pack of hounds followed the trio ofhorsemen, and before the fog lifted a cougar trail was struck and thedogs opened in a brilliant chorus. The two Texans put spurs to theirhorses in following the pack, the cattle buyer of necessity joiningin, the chase leading into some hills, from which they returned afterdarkness, having never seen a cow during the day. One trivial incidentafter another interfered with seeing the cattle for ten days, when theguest took his host aside and kindly told him that he must be shownthe cattle or he would go home."You're not in a hurry, are you, captain?" innocently asked the Texan."All right, then; no trouble to show the cattle. Yes, they run rightaround home here within twenty-five miles of the ranch. Show you asample of the stock within an hour's ride. You can just bet that oldTom Green County has got the steers! Sugar, if I'd a-known that youwas in a hurry, I could have shown you the cattle the next morningafter you come. Captain, you ought to know me well enough by this timeto speak your little piece without any prelude. You Yankees are sorestless and impatient that I seriously doubt if you get all thecomfort and enjoyment out of life that's coming to you. Make haste,some of you boys, and bring in a remuda; Captain Stone and I are goingto ride over on the Middle Fork this morning. Make haste, now; we'rein a hurry."In due time I suppose I drifted into the languorous ways of the Texan;but on the occasion of Mr. Hunter's first visit I was in the need of amoneyed partner, and accordingly danced attendance. Once communicationwas opened with his Northern associates, we made several short ridesinto adjoining counties, never being gone over two or three days.When we had looked at cattle to his satisfaction, he surprised meby offering to put fifty thousand dollars into young steers for theKansas trade. I never fainted in my life, but his proposition stunnedme for an instant, or until I could get my bearings. The upshot ofthe proposal was that we entered into an agreement whereby I was topurchase and handle the cattle, and he was to make himself usefulin selling and placing the stock in his State. A silent partner wasfurnishing an equal portion of the means, and I was to have a thirdof the net profits. Within a week after this agreement was perfected,things were moving. I had the horses and wagons, men were plentiful,and two outfits were engaged. Early in March a contract was let inParker County for thirty-one hundred two-year-old steers, and anotherin Young for fourteen hundred threes, the latter to be delivered at myranch. George Edwards was to have the younger cattle, and he and Mr.Hunter received the same, after which the latter hurried west, fullyninety miles, to settle for those bought for delivery on the ClearFork. In the mean time my ranch outfit had gathered all our steercattle two years old and over, having nearly twenty-five hundred headunder herd on my arrival to receive the three-year-olds. This amountwould make an unwieldy herd, and I culled back all short-aged twos andthin steers until my individual contingent numbered even two thousand.The contracted steers came in on time, fully up to the specifications,and my herd was ready to start on the appointed day.Every dollar of the fifty thousand was invested in cattle, save enoughto provision the wagons en route. My ranch outfit, with the exceptionof two men and ten horses, was pressed into trail work as a matter ofeconomy, for I was determined to make some money for my partners. Bothherds were to meet and cross at Red River Station. The season wasfavorable, and everything augured for a prosperous summer. At thevery last moment a cloud arose between Mr. Hunter and me, but happilypassed without a storm. The night before the second herd started, heand I sat up until a late hour, arranging our affairs, as it was nothis intention to accompany the herds overland. After all businessmatters were settled, lounging around a camp-fire, we grewreminiscent, when the fact developed that my quiet little partner hadserved in the Union army, and with the rank of major. I always enjoy ajoke, even on myself, but I flashed hot and cold on this confession.What! Reed Anthony forming a partnership with a Yankee major? Itseemed as though I had. Fortunately I controlled myself, and under theexcuse of starting the herd at daybreak, I excused myself and soughtmy blankets. But not to sleep. On the one hand, in the stillnessof the night and across the years, came the accusing voices of oldcomrades. My very wounds seemed to reopen and curse me. Did mysufferings after Pittsburg Landing mean nothing? A vision of my dearold mother in Virginia, welcoming me, the only one of her three sonswho returned from the war, arraigned me sorely. And yet, on the otherhand, this man was my guest. On my invitation he had eaten my salt.For mutual benefit we had entered into a partnership, and I expectedto profit from the investment of his money. More important, he had notdeceived me nor concealed anything; neither did he know that I hadserved in the Confederate army. The man was honest. I was anxious todo right. Soldiers are generous to a foe. While he lay asleep in mycamp, I reviewed the situation carefully, and judged him blameless.The next morning, and ever afterward, I addressed him by his militarytitle. Nearly a year passed before Major Hunter knew that he and hisTexas partner had served in the civil war under different flags.My partner returned to the Edwards ranch and was sent in to FortWorth, where he took stage and train for home. The straighttwo-year-old herd needed road-branding, as they were accepted in ascore or more brands, which delayed them in starting. Major Hunterexpected to sell to farmers, to whom brands were offensive, and wastherefore opposed to more branding than was absolutely necessary. Inorder to overcome this objection, I tally-marked all outside cattlewhich went into my herd by sawing from each steer about two inchesfrom the right horn. As fast as the cattle were received this work waseasily done in a chute, while in case of any loss by stampede themark would last for years. The grass was well forward when both herdsstarted, but on arriving at Red River no less than half a dozen herdswere waterbound, one of which was George Edwards's. A delay of threedays occurred, during which two other herds arrived, when the riverfell, permitting us to cross. I took the lead thereafter, the secondherd half a day to the rear, with the almost weekly incident of beingwaterbound by intervening rivers. But as we moved northward the floodsseemed lighter, and on our arrival at Wichita the weather settled intowell-ordered summer.I secured my camp of the year before. Major Hunter came down by train,and within a week after our arrival my outfit was settled with andsent home. It was customary to allow a man half wages returning, mypartner approving and paying the men, also taking charge of all theexpense accounts. Everything was kept as straight as a bank, and withone outfit holding both herds separate, expenses were reduced to aminimum. Major Hunter was back and forth, between his home town andWichita, and on nearly every occasion brought along buyers, effectingsales at extra good prices. Cattle paper was considered gilt-edgesecurity among financial men, and we sold to worthy parties a greatmany cattle on credit, the home bank with which my partners wereassociated taking the notes at their face. Matters rocked along, wesold when we had an opportunity, and early in August the remnant ofeach herd was thrown together and half the remaining outfit sent home.A drive of fully half a million cattle had reached Kansas thatyear, the greater portion of which had centred at Wichita. We werepersistent in selling, and, having strong local connections, hadsold out all our cattle long before the financial panic of '73 evenstarted. There was a profitable business, however, in buying herds andselling again in small quantities to farmers and stockmen. My partnerswere anxious to have me remain to the end of the season, doing thebuying, maintaining the camp, and holding any stock on hand. Inrummaging through the old musty account-books, I find that we handlednearly seven thousand head besides our own drive, fifteen hundredbeing the most we ever had on hand at any one time.My active partner proved a shrewd man in business, and in spite ofthe past our friendship broadened and strengthened. Weeks before thefinancial crash reached us he knew of its coming, and our house wasset in order. When the panic struck the West we did not own a hoof ofcattle, while the horses on hand were mine and not for sale; and thefirm of Hunter, Anthony & Co. rode the gale like a seaworthy ship. Thepanic reached Wichita with over half the drive of that year unsold.The local banks began calling in money advanced to drovers, buyersdeserted the market, and prices went down with a crash. Shipments ofthe best through cattle failed to realize more than sufficient to paycommission charges and freight. Ruin stared in the face every Texandrover whose cattle were unsold. Only a few herds were under contractfor fall delivery to Indian and army contractors. We had run from theapproaching storm in the nick of time, even settling with and sendingmy outfit home before the financial cyclone reached the prairiesof Kansas. My last trade before the panic struck was an individualaccount, my innate weakness for an abundance of saddle horsesasserting itself in buying ninety head and sending them home with mymen.I now began to see the advantages of shrewd and far-seeing businessassociates. When the crash came, scarce a dozen drovers had sold out,while of those holding cattle at Wichita nearly every one had locallyborrowed money or owed at home for their herds. When the banks,panic-stricken themselves, began calling in short-time loans, theirfrenzy paralyzed the market, many cattle being sacrificed at forcedsale and with scarce a buyer. In the depreciation of values from theprices which prevailed in the early summer, the losses to the Texasdrovers, caused by the panic, would amount to several million dollars.I came out of the general wreck and ruin untouched, though personallyclaiming no credit, as that must be given my partners. The yearbefore, when every other drover went home prosperous and happy, Ireturned "broke," while now the situation was reversed.I spent a week at Council Grove, visiting with my business associates.After a settlement of the year's business, I was anxious to returnhome, having agreed to drive cattle the next year on the same termsand conditions. My partners gave me a cash settlement, and outsideof my individual cattle, I cleared over ten thousand dollars on mysummer's work. Major Hunter, however, had an idea of reëntering themarket,--with the first symptom of improvement in the financialhorizon in the East,--and I was detained. The proposition of buyinga herd of cattle and wintering them on the range had been fullydiscussed between us, and prices were certainly an incentive to makethe venture. In an ordinary open winter, stock subsisted on the rangeall over western Kansas, especially when a dry fall had matured andcured the buffalo-grass like hay. The range was all one could wish,and Major Hunter and I accordingly dropped down to Wichita to look thesituation over. We arrived in the midst of the panic and found mattersin a deplorable condition. Drovers besought and even begged us to makean offer on their herds, while the prevailing prices of a month beforehad declined over half. Major Hunter and I agreed that at presentfigures, even if half the cattle were lost by a severe winter, therewould still be money in the venture. Through financial connectionsEast my partners knew of the first signs of improvement in themoney-centres of the country. As I recall the circumstances, the panicbegan in the East about the middle of September, and it was the latterpart of October before confidence was restored, or there was anynoticeable change for the better in the monetary situation. But whenthis came, it found us busy buying saddle horses and cattle. The greatbulk of the unsold stock consisted of cows, heifers, and young steersunfit for beef. My partners contended that a three-year-old steerought to winter anywhere a buffalo could, provided he had the fleshand strength to withstand the rigors of the climate. I had noopinions, except what other cowmen had told me, but was willing totake the chances where there was a reasonable hope of success.The first move was to buy an outfit of good horses. This was done byselecting from half a dozen remudas, a trail wagon was picked up, anda complement of men secured. Once it was known that we were in themarket for cattle, competition was brisk, the sellers bidding againsteach other and fixing the prices at which we accepted the stock. Nonebut three-year-old steers were taken, and in a single day we closedtrades on five thousand head. I received the cattle, confining myselections to five road and ten single-ranch brands, as it was not ourintention to rebrand so late in the season. There was nothing to dobut cut, count, and accept, and on the evening of the third day theherd was all ready to start for its winter range. The wagon had beenwell provisioned, and we started southwest, expecting to go intowinter quarters on the first good range encountered. I had taken athird interest in the herd, paying one sixth of its purchase price,the balance being carried for me by my partners. Major Hunteraccompanied us, the herd being altogether too large and unwieldyto handle well, but we grazed it forward with a front a mile wide.Delightful fall weather favored the cattle, and on the tenth day wereached the Medicine River, where, by the unwritten law of squatter'srights, we preëmpted ten miles of its virgin valley. The country wasfairly carpeted with well-cured buffalo-grass; on the north and westwas a range of sand-dunes, while on the south the country was brokenby deep coulees, affording splendid shelter in case of blizzards orwintry storms.A dugout was built on either end of the range. Major Hunter took thewagon and team and went to the nearest settlement, returning witha load of corn, having contracted for the delivery of five hundredbushels more. Meanwhile I was busy locating the cattle, scatteringthem sparsely over the surrounding country, cutting them into bunchesof not more than ten to twenty head. Corrals and cosy shelters werebuilt for a few horses, comfortable quarters for the men, and wesettled down for the winter with everything snug and secure. By thefirst of December the force was reduced to four men at each camp, allof whom were experienced in holding cattle in the winter. Lines givingample room to our cattle were established, which were to be riddenboth evening and morning in any and all weather. Two Texans, bothexperts as trailers, were detailed to trail down any cattle which leftthe boundaries of the range. The weather continued fine, and with thecamps well provisioned, the major and I returned to the railroad andtook train for Council Grove. I was impatient to go home, and took themost direct route then available. Railroads were just beginning toenter the West, and one had recently been completed across the easternportion of the Indian Territory, its destination being south of RedRiver. With nothing but the clothes on my back and a saddle, Istarted home, and within twenty-four hours arrived at Denison, Texas.Connecting stages carried me to Fort Worth, where I bought a saddlehorse, and the next evening I was playing with the babies at the homeranch. It had been an active summer with me, but success had amplyrewarded my labors, while every cloud had disappeared and the futurewas rich in promise.