Frontier Folk
By George Booth in 1880
The image of the American frontier, etched in the collective memory, often conjures visions of intrepid pioneers pushing westward, carving settlements out of untamed wilderness. But what exactly defined this "frontier," and who were these "frontier folk"? In 1880, when George Booth penned his observations, the frontier represented more than just a geographical line; it symbolized a distinct culture, a particular way of life forged at the edge of civilization. Even as settlements began to dot the vast territories of the West, the term "frontier" retained its significance, speaking to a unique societal landscape.
The frontier was not the domain of established colonies, secure in their land titles and shielded from the threat of Indian raids. Instead, it was the ragged edge of expansion, the boundary where white settlements met the territories of Native American tribes. These were lands legally open for settlement but perpetually threatened by conflict, home to transient communities that could spring up overnight and vanish just as quickly. The essence of the frontier was its impermanence, its fluidity, and the constant push and pull between civilization and wilderness.
The establishment of a successful frontier settlement hinged on the collective optimism of its inhabitants, their shared belief that "this spot is to be a city and a center." The mere rumor of a gathering of settlers could attract others, fueling a rapid, almost spontaneous, population surge. However, this growth was often fleeting. The same enthusiasm that built the settlement could just as easily dissipate, as "first citizens" reconsidered their prospects and migrated to new, more promising locations.
The typical resident of these nascent communities was less of a permanent inhabitant and more of a temporary sojourner. Many lived in anticipation of selling their "claim" to a newcomer for a quick profit. Others sought their fortune in the discovery of a valuable mineral lode or placer, hoping to finance a year’s revelry with the proceeds. Still others were trappers, constantly shifting their location as the availability of fur-bearing animals dwindled.
These pursuits represented the more "respectable" aspirations of the solid citizens of the frontier. However, they were often outnumbered by a larger contingent of individuals who drifted around settlements, clinging to the hope of striking it rich but often resorting to less scrupulous means of survival. These included opportunistic horse thieves, gamblers who frequented the faro tables, and those engaged in "road agency," a euphemism for the unlawful collection of highway tolls. Frontier society lacked the nuanced social hierarchies of more established communities. A person was either an "elegant gentleman" or a "liar and a horse thief." Yet, even those with questionable morals were rarely bothered unless caught in the act of their illicit trades, which they practiced with enough discretion to make apprehension difficult. If caught red-handed and overpowered, their fate was often swift and brutal – they were simply "got rid of."
On the frontier, the value system was skewed. Homicide was considered a minor offense compared to horse theft. A horse had tangible value, while a thief was deemed a liability. Justice was swift and unforgiving when it came to protecting property. A man who killed another in a quarrel might go unpunished, but the stealer of a purse or a horse faced certain death if caught.
Despite the risks, the life of a horse thief offered a chance to escape capture and reinvent oneself as an "elegant gentleman" in another frontier town, living off the proceeds of their crimes. This could be sustained even if suspicion lingered, provided they refrained from practicing their trade in the communities they frequented. Personal violence was generally reserved for situations where it offered a tangible benefit to the aggressor. The legendary free-for-all, or killing a man on sight, was reportedly less common than in the Southwest. While stories circulated about rough-and-tumble towns like Benton, Missouri, where early morning barroom floors were littered with the "eyes" of the previous night’s combatants, such scenes were perhaps more myth than reality. Yet, the author conceded that he would be wary of encountering Bentonians around his camp at night without adequate security for his horses.
The desire for permanence was often elusive on the frontier. Even when a settlement flourished through commerce, mining, or agriculture, the original settlers were often quick to sell out and seek new opportunities further west. Some individuals spent their entire adult lives claiming land, building ranches, and "realizing" profits, constantly moving from Texas to Montana, sometimes even venturing into California.
Often, entire families, including wives, children, and livestock, would accompany these nomadic pioneers. A cabin might be erected, a farm established, and a life begun, only to be abandoned the following year based on the mere rumor of a better claim further on. Despite this constant upheaval, there seemed to be little genuine hardship among these transient people. Their children grew up strong and resilient, and their livestock multiplied as they journeyed onward.
A new stage route might provide a year’s sustenance by squatting on good grassland and fulfilling a hay contract. Alternatively, they might settle near a planned military post, hoping to sell vegetables to the troops before the post’s own gardens became productive. Occasionally, they would stumble upon a truly promising location, attracting permanent settlers. But, as soon as they had secured a supply of flour, bacon, and tobacco, and a little cash for whiskey and clothes, they would move on again. They were not like gypsies, who often returned to familiar haunts, but more like the Wandering Jew, driven by an unseen force to avoid contact with settled, methodical people. Their belongings were packed into "prairie schooners," and they traveled at a leisurely pace, rarely bothering to pitch a tent at night. The women slept in the wagons, while the men slept on the ground beneath them. The abundance of grass provided ample forage for their livestock, and the weather was generally pleasant. There was no sense of urgency or worry; their only goal was to reach a suitable location in time to build a log hut and a shed for their animals before winter arrived. The U.S. Army, thinly spread across a vast territory, provided a degree of security, and the military telegraphs offered timely warnings of potential Indian raids.
This nomadic lifestyle, combined with limited exposure to permanent structures and freedom from the constraints of neighbors, fostered a sense of self-importance among these frontier folk. Even though they might abandon their land within months for a more distant prospect, they expected any traveler who stopped at their cabin to acknowledge the superiority of their "claim" and the quality of their food, despite the reality often being far from impressive. In truth, the best ingredients were often ruined by poor cooking techniques. Venison, for example, was sliced thin and fried in cold grease until it became tough and saturated with fat. When one traveler requested a boiled egg, he was met with the assertion that "the lady knew how to cook eggs – she fried ’em," submerging them in cold lard. The isolation and lack of social comparison contributed to the inflated sense of self-worth among these individuals, who viewed themselves as nature’s aristocracy, their social standing sustained only by the absence of neighbors.
The unsuspecting traveler, lured by promises of ranches along his route, often found himself a captive in the "castle of Giant Despair." He was derisively referred to as a "tenderfoot," a term that encapsulated everything considered contemptible. He might have scaled mountains or marched with armies, but he remained a "tenderfoot" until he proved himself by living further out than anyone else or by mastering the art of eating with his knife. Conversely, the ultimate insult that could be hurled at these frontier folk was to call them "Missourian." The origin of this slur remained unclear, but it seemed to represent everything undesirable and worthless. Settlers from Virginia and Georgia proudly declared their birthplace, assuming that it bestowed upon them a sense of inherent superiority, while the Missourian typically mentioned only the last place he had stopped on his journey west.
Some individuals, particularly those who had fled Missouri during the Civil War, remained deeply entrenched in the grievances of the past. Their isolation had provided ample time to dwell on the perceived wrongs of the South, fostering a lingering bitterness towards "abolitionists" and "Lincoln’s hirelings."
In contrast to the transient settlers, the miners and prospectors represented a more appealing segment of frontier folk. They spent their summers immersed in breathtaking scenery, pursuing fortunes that only a few would ever realize. These men were captivated by their lifestyle and, despite their lack of success, persisted as long as their health and age permitted. Their winters were spent in towns, earning enough to purchase supplies for the next summer’s campaign. Choosing a base of operations, they would construct a small shanty and spend the summer climbing mountains, breaking rocks, and searching for signs of wealth, all while maintaining a hopeful outlook and keeping an eye out for game. These men welcomed tourists and willingly shared their meager resources, with the exception of blankets.
They entertained visitors with colorful stories and whispered tales of hidden riches. They often worked in pairs, referring to each other as "pard," and remained loyal to one another, especially in times of hardship or illness. By and large, they were an honest and honorable group, leading a life that fostered positive traits, particularly hospitality and kindness.
Their existence was far from monotonous. Each day brought its own unique experiences, fueled by the belief that success was just around the corner. Geographical distances were of little consequence to them, and they displayed a remarkable lack of fear. It was not uncommon to see two "pards" on foot, leading their donkeys, laden with all their worldly possessions, through Indian territory. They might inform you that they had traveled from the San Juan Mountains in Southern Colorado and were headed to the Bear Paw Mountains in Northern Montana, drawn by the rumor of gold. Many of these frontier folk had traversed the entire length of the Rocky Mountains within the United States.
In areas where gold was being washed, towns sprung up rapidly, only to be abandoned once the surface deposits were exhausted. The once-thriving town of Georgia, in Middle Park, Colorado, now stood deserted, its town hall, theaters, and log houses a testament to a bygone era.
In these new towns, which were often grandiosely labeled "cities" as soon as they had more than one building, the rum seller was quickly followed by the lawyer. The lawyer immediately ran for county office, stirred up grievances, and showed each man how to gain an advantage over his neighbor. If a military post was nearby, the officers became easy targets, as they were financially responsible and obligated to obey the laws. The lawyer’s method of extracting money from the military was simple: he secured a witness willing to testify to anything, as perjury was treated more as a joke than a crime. The lawsuit could be for any reason, such as the alleged illegal detention of an animal described by the judge as a "Rhone ox," further stating that such detention was a "penal" offense. The unfortunate officer, regardless of the absurdity of the accusation, was compelled to hire a lawyer, ensuring that he contributed to the support of the frontier bar.
Justice in the Territories was administered when the United States judge arrived on his circuit, but there was no recourse for the worry and expense of litigation. Even if damages were awarded, the conspirator often lacked assets to satisfy the claim, and the threat of punishment would simply prompt him to relocate.
The army officer on the frontier lived in constant dread of legal entanglements. Even lawsuits that would be dismissed as frivolous in the East could cause significant distress. While West Point provided a basic legal education, it was insufficient to prepare officers for the specific types of lawsuits they faced on the frontier. With fewer opportunities to understand court practice, they fell victim to unscrupulous attorneys who exploited their familiarity with legal loopholes and the alleged grievances of their clients.
For example, it was common for ranches to be damaged or hay to be burned due to the carelessness of travelers who left campfires unattended. Even though troops were under strict orders to extinguish their fires, a rancher who could demonstrate a burned fence or scorched barn would immediately accuse the nearest military command of starting the fire, fabricating evidence to support his claim. A lawsuit would be filed against the commanding officer, potentially leading to arrest and property attachment. To avoid the ordeal, the officer often submitted to unjust financial demands. This particular abuse of the legal system was a significant source of frustration for army officers on the frontier.
The common perception of an army officer’s life on the frontier as one of idleness was far from accurate. Typically, only one of the three company officers was present, requiring them to handle all company duties. The other officers might be assigned to various tasks, such as commissary or quartermaster duties, court-martial attendance, or searching for lime deposits. They might also be on the sick list, guarding wagon trains, or on leave. Cavalry units often spent months on campaign, far from the comforts of a permanent post. With limited officers to form a social circle, life could become monotonous and bleak.
The frequent abandonment of old posts and construction of new ones ensured that officers and men did not stagnate through inactivity, even in areas with less Indian conflict. Congressional appropriations for a new post only covered a fraction of the actual costs. The remaining expenses were met "in kind," through the labor of soldiers. They cut timber, operated sawmills, dug drains, made bricks and mortar, and plastered buildings. A cavalryman was fortunate if he had enough time to groom his own horse. Often, one man was assigned to care for the horses of several comrades.
The American soldier on the frontier was a remarkable figure. He was often a day laborer, his appearance and demeanor reflecting his work. His best uniform was reserved for guard duty and inspections, and his clothing was quickly worn out by manual labor. He received limited drill and might even enter combat without having fired his rifle.
Despite his lack of formal training and his often un-soldierly appearance, the American soldier was disciplined, obedient, resourceful, uncomplaining, and courageous. The lack of drill created difficulties for company officers in battle, as recruits had to be taught basic skills on the spot. Yet, history demonstrated that these "knights of the hod" faced any odds at the command of their officers. Even if they died using a carbine they were unfamiliar with, they were fortunate to have a pile of stones to mark their grave.
Those who survived combat gained valuable experience and improved their skills. The army provided adequate food and clothing, and soldiers were expected to endure the harsh conditions without complaint. The rugged life of a cavalry officer often took its toll by middle age.
The cavalry, being mounted, were primarily responsible for frontier scouting. Some infantry units were also mounted, and they were essentially classified as cavalry, though armed with the superior Springfield rifle. Winter marches were common. Troops often had to march with cooked rations, avoiding fires to prevent alerting the Indians. The quartermaster’s department provided buffalo overcoats and fur caps, enabling soldiers to survive the harsh winter conditions. However, when a blizzard struck, the troops had to seek shelter and prioritize survival. Wagons were sometimes broken up for fuel, as timber was scarce in many areas. The frequent and sudden troop movements, driven by the small size of the army, often caused hardship, especially for units transferred from milder climates. However, once acclimatized, soldiers often found the northwestern climate invigorating.
On military expeditions, scouts were hired to gather information on the "hostiles." They were paid based on the value of their information and the risks they undertook. While some scouts provided excellent service, others were unreliable and dishonest. Some even burned grass to conceal the trails of the Indians they claimed to have seen. These individuals often adopted flamboyant costumes, mimicking Indian attire and customs, and assuming colorful nicknames.
A "squaw-man" was a white man who had married one or more Indian women and been adopted by a tribe. They were generally considered useless, having abandoned their own culture and being viewed with contempt by both whites and Indians. Woodcutters who supplied fuel to steamboats on the Missouri River sometimes took Indian wives for protection, but they were not considered part of the tribal family like the "squaw-man." These men were often suspected of supplying ammunition to the Indians.
Along the Canadian border, there were thousands of mixed-race individuals, primarily of French and Scottish descent. They spoke Cree and a French patois. Their society was based on the patriarchal system, and they were strict Catholics. They lived a nomadic life, trading between whites and Indians, supplying ammunition, and subsisting on game and buffalo. They made pemmican, a mixture of dried meat and fat, which they sold or stored for winter. They traveled in unique one-horse carts, constructed with minimal iron, and crossed rivers by swimming their horses while the carts floated. They camped in a circle, using their carts as a barricade. These half-breeds were more Indian than white in their customs and beliefs.
Cattle-raising was a lucrative pursuit on the frontier. A well-chosen range with water, shelter, and minimal capital could lead to prosperity and good health. The herders spent the mild seasons sleeping on the ground, unlike soldiers who had to endure blizzards. Many young men from privileged backgrounds were drawn to cattle-raising, finding it a rewarding and enjoyable lifestyle. They built comfortable ranches, stocked them with books, and hired help. They spent their days in the saddle, and their evenings by the fire. The only demanding period was during the "round-up," when cattle were branded and inspected. With few natural predators and limited Indian interference, cattle herds thrived.
The frontier folk ate, drank, and lived life on their own terms. While they faced hardships, they also experienced freedoms that were difficult for those living in settled communities to comprehend. The open air, the absence of restrictions, and the hearty meals made it difficult to return to a life of steady work and respectability. These individuals played a vital role in the drama of American history, and their character and pursuits deserve recognition and study for a complete understanding of the West.