Border Towns of the American West

The relentless westward expansion of the railroads into the untamed Plains catalyzed a surge of settlement in regions previously deemed uninhabitable. As the iron rails relentlessly pushed forward, each terminus became the birthing ground for what were often referred to as "mushroom towns." These settlements, hastily constructed from rudimentary materials like shacks and tents, possessed a transient and often volatile character. Saloons and brothels occupied prominent positions within these nascent communities, catering to the immediate desires of the predominantly male population. The streets, frequently littered with discarded refuse, reflected the impermanence and rough-and-tumble nature of life on the frontier.

These burgeoning towns were inhabited by a diverse assortment of individuals, including the surveyors, graders, track-layers, and trainmen who were actively involved in the railroad’s construction. Attracted by the promise of quick riches, a swarm of opportunists and "parasites" descended upon these settlements, eager to capitalize on the wages earned by the railroad workers through the allure of vice and entertainment.

While some of these temporary outposts eventually evolved into enduring towns and cities, even holding the distinction of serving as the final destination for the legendary Long Trail during the twilight years of the cattle trade, many met a less illustrious fate. As the railroad continued its westward march, these transient settlements often faded into obscurity, their names and existence relegated to the forgotten pages of history.

However, at regular intervals, typically every eight to ten miles along the gleaming rails, the railroad left behind the seeds of permanent settlement. These nuclei might consist of a simple water tank, accompanied by a section house, acting as a solitary sentinel in the desolate landscape. In some instances, these isolated outposts would gradually attain the status of a "cow-town," a vital shipping point for the cattle raised on the surrounding ranges.

Fueled by the transient but lucrative cattle trade, these settlements experienced periods of rapid growth and expansion. Makeshift dwellings sprang up across the prairie, gradually coalescing into sprawling, unorganized villages. General stores, often rudimentary, barn-like structures, emerged along the main thoroughfare, typically facing the railroad tracks, catering to the basic needs of the burgeoning population. Saloons, gambling dens, and dance halls proliferated, interspersed among the few legitimate businesses, underscoring the town’s primary purpose as a hub for the cattle industry. Cattle pens sprawled along the periphery, a tangible testament to the town’s raison d’être. During the zenith of the cattle trade, following the westward migration of the Long Trail, these places transformed into bustling commercial centers, characterized by a wild, riotous, and undeniably prosperous existence. The border towns of the American West were truly unique.

For the countless cowboys who traversed the sun-baked plains of Nebraska, Kansas, Colorado, and the Indian Territory, enduring months of arduous labor in the saddle and on the home ranch, these often-squalid settlements represented their sole connection to the broader world. To these men, these places embodied the very essence of life. Upon securing their cattle for shipment, they eagerly sought out the pleasures and diversions that these towns offered. Like children drawn to shiny trinkets, they were easily captivated by the gaudy and often tawdry attractions that were readily available. The vices of the border were crude and unsophisticated, but the off-duty cowboy was eager to partake in them. Numerous individuals stood ready to cater to their desires, provided they were willing to freely spend their hard-earned wages.

In that era and in that environment, self-reliance and personal strength were paramount. A man’s worth was determined by his actions and his adherence to the unwritten code of the border. Artificial distinctions and social barriers were largely absent. It was a world governed by physical prowess and dominated by unrestrained passions. The West held no interest in a man’s past. Whatever had transpired east of the Missouri River was deemed irrelevant. Here, individuals stood on equal footing, judged solely on their present character and capabilities.

Emerson Hough, a chronicler of the West, aptly described the prevailing moral climate of these border towns of the American West, stating that "Virtue was almost unknown… Vice of the flaunting sort was the neighbor of every man. The church might be tolerated; the saloon and dance hall were considered necessities. Never in the wildest days of the wildest mining camps has there been a more dissolute or more desperate class of population than that which at times hung upon the edge of the cattle trail or of the cattle range and battened upon its earnings."

He further lamented that the brief period of excess and lawlessness was often unfairly used to define the character of the American cowboy. He argued that the cowboy had since redeemed himself through decades of faithful labor and that his atonement deserved recognition alongside the record of his transgressions.

Despite their rough edges and moral ambiguities, these border towns of the American West possessed a certain undeniable picturesqueness. Their like will never be seen again. The surrounding environment was often bleak and desolate, rendering the vibrant human element within these towns all the more striking. The barrenness of the Great Plains stretched endlessly to the horizon, providing a stark contrast to the crude, unpainted buildings, the makeshift shacks, the grimy tents flapping in the wind, the utilitarian red station, the rough cow-pens filled with cattle, the oversized stores with their amateurishly decorated facades, and the garishly ornamented dens of vice.

Life in these towns was characterized by a constant ebb and flow. Dull days were invariably followed by clamorous nights. Weeks of inactivity would give way to periods of frenetic activity, fueled by the arrival and departure of the cowboys from the range. The dust clouds rising from the trail signaled the awakening of the parasitic elements, who eagerly set their traps for the unsuspecting cowboys riding into town with pockets full of cash.

The social fabric of these border towns of the American West was a complex and often volatile mixture. Inquiries into a person’s background were rare, and individuals were generally accepted without question. Respectable women were scarce – perhaps the station keeper’s wife or one or two others – but the night was filled with the fleeting figures of women whose faces were adorned with powder and paint. The population comprised a motley assortment of cowboys, half-breeds, desperadoes, gamblers, saloon keepers, merchants (often of Jewish descent), petty officials, and inveterate drunkards. The town served as a magnet for the lost and the broken, drawing in individuals from all walks of life who sought refuge or oblivion on the frontier.

Life was cheap in this chaotic environment, and the authority of the law rested solely on the shoulders of the town marshal or the sheriff. Their power derived not from the distant courts but from their personal courage and their demonstrated ability to enforce order through force if necessary. The position was demanding, requiring unwavering nerve and resolve.

The marshal was frequently tested, and any perceived weakness would quickly lead to his downfall. Those who succeeded in maintaining order were typically cool-headed, patient, and fair in their treatment of offenders, but also quick to react and unyielding in a fight.

The most essential quality for anyone seeking to thrive in a cow town was undoubtedly "sand" – courage and resilience. Anyone who allowed themselves to be intimidated or exploited was viewed with contempt. New arrivals were invariably subjected to a test of their mettle, and their subsequent reputation was determined by their response. If they proved their worth, their path within the community became considerably smoother.

Every border towns of the American West was likely to harbor its own bully or "bad man" – a surly and often malicious individual who sought to intimidate and provoke others, particularly newcomers. However, those who minded their own business and kept to themselves were generally left undisturbed. Most gunfights occurred between individuals actively seeking conflict, and the victims were often those who were considered a detriment to the community.

Strangers soon learned that outward displays of aggression and profanity were not necessarily indicative of genuine courage. The initial impression of awe often gave way to contempt. The typical "bad man" sought an advantage, relying on speed, ruthlessness, and the element of surprise to prevail. However, discerning the true character of an individual was not always easy. In a cow town, most citizens carried firearms, and disputes were typically settled through direct confrontation. Individuals were expected to defend their rights, and respect was earned by those who demonstrated fairness, avoided unnecessary conflict, but stood their ground when challenged. Countless anecdotes from this era have been romanticized and popularized, transforming ordinary barroom brawlers into legendary frontier heroes.

The larger cattle towns, those that served as the terminus for the Long Trail at various times, were simply larger and more cosmopolitan versions of these smaller settlements. While the smaller cow towns attracted the cowboys from the surrounding ranges, the larger ones drew in a diverse population from across the borderlands. Cattlemen and their riders, having completed the long drive, arrived with pockets overflowing with money, eager to indulge in the pleasures that awaited them. They came from Nebraska, Texas, the Indian Territory, New Mexico, and Colorado, driving vast herds of dusty, weary cattle and already intoxicated with visions of the revelry to come.

And the joys were indeed present, readily dispensed by those eager to profit from the influx of wealth. The pursuit of pleasure continued unabated from dawn to dawn. Brothels and dance halls blazed with light and activity. Barrooms teemed with boisterous and quarrelsome patrons. Gamblers huddled around tables, their faces illuminated by flickering lamps. Men swaggered through the streets, seeking out conflict. Cowboys rode their horses directly into saloons, drinking while still in the saddle. Intoxicated men fired their weapons indiscriminately into the air or into the crowds. Bands played popular tunes on balconies, while barkers enticed passersby with promises of entertainment and vice. It was a veritable saturnalia of excess, a cacophony of sound, a glimpse into the depths of depravity. Every man was his own law, and the gun was the ultimate arbiter. Town marshals and sheriffs, accompanied by a handful of deputies, moved through the chaos, attempting to maintain a semblance of order with patience, determination, and unwavering courage. Such scenes will never be witnessed again. Even now, some may question the veracity of these descriptions.

Yet town after town experienced this cycle of boom and bust before the Long Trail faded from history. Abilene, Newton, Wichita, Ellsworth, Great Bend, and Dodge City each, in turn, welcomed and entertained the unruly throngs. Emerging from the vast expanse of the Great Plains, these men were ripe for mischief, seeking excitement, and the providers of entertainment and vice flocked to meet their needs. These were the golden days of the range, when money flowed freely, and the cattlemen reigned supreme. The towns that catered to their desires thrived, and everything was permitted at the end of the drive. They paid handsomely for their fun. If they shot out the saloon lights or demolished the bar, they would more than compensate for the damage when they sobered up. When men ordered hundreds of dollars worth of ham and eggs or bathed in champagne, the conventions of the East were cast aside. The cattle country had its own standards and its own vices. The men who shaped it were a unique breed, and those of a later generation are ill-equipped to judge them. They were both good and bad. Nobility existed alongside brutality, and a friend on the border was a friend to the death. Genuine manhood was always respected, and true womanhood was revered. Our failure lies in our inability to discern the true character of those who dominated this primitive society amidst the chaos and brutality. The border towns of the American West are a unique part of American history.

Hough’s evocative description of his final glimpse of a typical cow-town captures the essence of this era:

"It is high and glaring noon in the little town, but it still sleeps. Some of the men have not yet thrown off their blankets in their cabins. Few persons are moving along one long, straggling street, and those are not hastily. Far out on the plain is a trail of dust winding along, where a big ranch wagon is coming in. Upon the opposite side of the town, a second and more rapid trail tells where a buckboard is coming, drawn by a pair of trotting ponies. At the end of the street, just coming up from the arroyo, is the figure of a horseman – a tall, slim young man – who sits straight up on his trotting pony, his gloved hand held high. Daintily, his bright kerchief was lopping up and down a bit at his neck as he sat on the jogging horse, his big hat pushed back a little over his forehead. All these low buildings, not one of them above a single story, are the color of the earth. They hold to the earth, therefore, as though they belonged there. This rider is also in his garb, the color of the earth, and he fits into this scene perfectly. He also belongs there, this strong, erect, and self-sufficient figure. The environment has produced its man." These border towns of the American West certainly helped shape the men of the time.