Last of the Covered Wagons: An Age of Optimism at the Turn of the Century

My AncestryDNA test results have led to many interesting discoveries but one of the earliest connections I figured out was with a fifth cousin once removed. Her tree included many wonderful old photographs of her mother's Beard family, the line we share, and letters they wrote. Perhaps, the most treasured outcome of this cousin connection was the gift of friendship. My "new" cousin has shared many things about her life, including a book her uncle, Clarence Mern Beard, wrote about his family's trip west in a covered wagon at the turn of the century. Railroads already linked east and west so the trip was unusual in that the family was still traveling by covered wagon in the late 1890s. She has graciously allowed me to share portions of the book on my blog.

Clarence wrote about the mood of optimism that gripped the country at the beginning of the twentieth century, a time when man thought science would triumph over nature. This portion of Clarence's book provides an interesting contemporary glimpse into those times.

"The first move of the McKinley Administration [note: inaugurated 4 May 1897] was that of placing a heavy duty on all imports, which were in competition with abundant American home products and high on the list was a tariff on wheat. As a result, the price of this grain shot up to a dollar a bushel. Now this move raised the price of bread and other cereals throughout the nation and aroused the indignation of the cotton-growing South. But since Colorado was one of the main producers of wheat, this high price brought a boom to the state, which was more substantial than the hoped for silver bonanza.

The effect of this stimulus did not become apparent until mid-summer, and in the meantime our finances during the winter and spring of 1897 receded to an all-time low. Then almost imperceptibly, we noticed that people were beginning to call, by asking for help and offering better pay. In fact, there was talk of importing Mexicans from south of the border. Father landed a job with an artesian well-drilling outfit at a dollar a day, and this work lasted for the balance of the summer.

In the early autumn, the San Luis Valley Graphic carried a feature article congratulating Bill Telindy, our landlord's son, upon his foresight in ordering the latest threshing equipment in anticipation of the tremendous harvest at hand.

This consisted of a J. I. Case, sixteen-horse-power tractor engine that was the last word in dynamic energy! Its companion was an advance separator, which was equipped with a cyclone stacker. This was a blower device that hurled the straw out through a pipe and replaced the endless-belt conveyor. This gaudily painted wonder-unit stood on exhibition for several days. One old timer in the admiring crowd was heard to say, "Gentlemen, this is progress! Only a short generation ago we had to cut our grain with a scythe and thrash it out by hand with a flail. I'm sure glad I lived to see this day!"

Schematic of a J. I Case threshing machine; image courtesy of Ralston
Genealogy

But like the shadow, which stalks every man's tracks, the rising cost of commodities managed to keep pace with that increased revenue. In fact, all America began to wrestle in earnest with the basic problem of society, which is the art of holding the ascending spiral of prices down to a point within the limits of the income. Economists began to use the term, "family budget."

The study of the law of cause and effect and the influence of action upon reaction became the vital issue of the day. Politicians and statesmen suggested ways and means whereby initiative could be encouraged and industry stimulated without establishing monopoly or sacrificing independence. The question was how to secure efficient management without encouraging oppressive and unscrupulous manipulation. The objective was to guarantee sustained and stable prosperity, and devise a system, which would save the country from these periodic waves of depression.

Everyone recognized the fact that America had entered upon a stage of transition and a general feeling of optimism prevailed. Some farsighted thinkers suggested that the machine, instead of throwing men out of work, would make mass production possible and create more and better jobs at the same time shortening hours and increasing wages. So there was general agreement that the new century would introduce an era of steady advancement and unlimited achievement.

During the closing years of the nineteenth century, the accent was upon invention and the development of novel ideas. We eagerly studied such periodicals as Scientific American, which described the construction and uses of the latest machines registered at the U.S. Patent Office.

One day we had the opportunity to observe the most glamorous of all new inventions at first hand. A man stopped at our house for the purpose of inviting us to attend a novel entertainment he was to give at the schoolhouse that night. There were to be colored magic lantern slides, but the feature was a talking machine that he called a graphophone. He told us the name was coined from the Latin word "grapho" (to write) joined with the Greek word "phone" (voice) and was literally, "written voice." The admission price was $0.10; but when mother told him it would be impossible for us to attend, he offered to play a few of these records for us in exchange for his lunch and feed for his horses -- a proposition which we readily accepted.

Graphophone circa 1901; image courtesy of Wikipedia

He asked for a tin dishpan, which he turned upside down and upon which he set his machine. He explained that the vibration of this pan acted at accentuate the tone and volume of the sound produced by the instrument. And he was right about the quality of the music; for I was transported into a new world when the diamond touched the wax cylinder and a cultured voice announced, "A march, 'Columbia the Gem of the Ocean,' played by the New York Military Band. Edison Record." Instinctively, I closed my eyes and as I did so I seemed to visualize the bright lights and sense the vibrant life of the great metropolis. My mind was projected into the future and I was certain that with improved methods of sound reproduction and the perfecting of this device, the whole nation would be introduced to the great masters and hear the world's finest artists interpret their compositions. This machine would convey the best efforts of the centers of culture conveyed to the very outposts of civilization. We had entered the golden age of inter-communication."

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Last of the Covered Wagons: Duck and Cover
Last of the Covered Wagons: Meeting a Rattlesnake
Last of the Covered Wagons: The Black Rim Canyon

52 Ancestors #28: Last of the Covered Wagons: The Black Canyon Rim

Ancestor: Clarence Mern Beard (1885-1960)

My AncestryDNA test results have led to many interesting discoveries but one of the earliest connections I figured out was with a fifth cousin once removed. Her tree included many wonderful old photographs of her mother's Beard family, the line we share, and letters they wrote. Perhaps, the most treasured outcome of this cousin connection was the gift of friendship. My "new" cousin has shared many things about her life, including a book her uncle, Clarence Mern Beard, wrote about his family's trip west in a covered wagon at the turn of the century. Railroads already linked east and west so the trip was unusual in that the family was still traveling by covered wagon in the late 1890s. She has graciously allowed me to share portions of the book on my blog.

Clarence Mern Beard, his parents and siblings had spent two winters in the San Louis Valley area of Colorado but their living expenses were exorbitant and to meet them they had to work long hours. This left no time to improve any land they might decide to homestead or purchase. So they set off in their covered wagon in 1898 to continue on to California. The following excerpt from Clarence Mern Beard's book, Last of the Covered Wagons, describes a small portion of the leg of their westward migration.

"The next morning we moved comfortably down a splendid road and entertained the hope that it would only be a matter of miles before we should reach our destination. But the hills began to encroach up on our little valley and the waters turned into a racing, foam-crested torrent. After crossing a bridge, we notice that the river began to drop below us and that the road was threading its way across the face of a cliff. To our right were steep mountains and to our left was a sheer drop of thousands of feet, for we were crawling along the rim of the Black Canyon!

Wagon train traveling along a canyon road; source Union Pacific 

Much of that road had been blasted out of solid rock; and it represented such a difficult undertaking that we had the feeling that we might round a sharp turn, only to find that the road makers had abandoned the task altogether!

Except of an occasional wide place made for passing, this was strictly a one-way road. We wondered what would happen if we should chance to meet another vehicle on one of these extremely narrow stretches. We found the answer when we came face to face with two women who were in a buggy, driving what was fortunately, a gentle team. And this was perhaps the most unpromising section of that whole high cornice drive! But those ladies were Colorado born and appeared to be undisturbed by the situation. They helped us to unhitch their horses, which we led single file by our wagon. We then actually balanced their light buggy over the edge of the cliff, while mother drove our rig past the spot. After this, we dragged their buggy back on the road and re-hitched their team, thus we made a safe and successful meet on an impassable highway!

From those dizzy heights, we looked down at the foot of the gorge, upon what seemed to be toy trains gliding along a track, which fought to find room to wind its way beside the foaming river. Father threw a heavy stone out as far as he could and timed its fall by his watch, in an effort to estimate the depth of this chasm, which we were told measured over 3,000 feet.

This sheer drop was accentuated by the heavy shadows from the opposite wall, which at times closed to within 400 years of our side of that mighty rift. A feature of this canyon is the cathedral-like spire of solid granite, which towers over 1,000 feet above the canyon floor. From our precarious positions, we looked down upon this Curecanti's Needle, but in comparison with the massive walls, this impressive monolith was dwarfed. This whole region had been widely advertised as a scenic wonderland, but to us it brought breath-taking hazard."

Curecanti Needle as it might have looked in Clarence Mern Beard's time;
image courtesy of Detroit Photographic Co.

So the place on the map that today is considered a scenic tourist destination made for very hazardous travel conditions nearly 120 years ago. I find that quite thought provoking.

This is my entry for Amy Johnson Crow's 52 ancestors in 52 weeks challenge optional theme Road Trip.

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Clarence Mern Beard was a born on 7 November 1885 in Ansley, Nebraska, to William Adam and Emma Elizabeth (Ellison) Beard. He was the second of nine children and their eldest son. Between 1895 and 1898 the family migrated west to Colorado and two years later to California. In 1912 Clarence married Helen May Banker and together they had two sons. Clarence died in on 29 August 1960 in Oakland, California.

Last of the Covered Wagons: Duck and Cover
Last of the Covered Wagons: Meeting a Rattlesnake

Last of the Covered Wagons: Meeting a Rattlesnake

My AncestryDNA test results have led to many interesting discoveries but one of the earliest connections I figured out was with a fifth cousin once removed. Her tree included many wonderful old photographs of her mother's Beard family, the line we share, and stories they wrote. Perhaps, the most treasured outcome of this cousin connection was the gift of friendship. My "new" cousin has shared many things about her life, including a book her uncle, Clarence Mern Beard, wrote about his family's trip west in a covered wagon at the turn of the century. Railroads already linked east and west so the trip was unusual in that the family was still traveling by covered wagon in the late 1890s. She has graciously allowed me to share portions of the book on my blog.

At the time of this section of the book the family of William Adam and Emma Elizabeth (Ellison) Beard are traveling through southern Colorado headed to Pueblo.

"A gray haze blotted out the mountains; and not a tree, cliff or even a sizeable hill stood to break the monotonous expanse of the desert like plain; and only the dim outline of a trail was there to indicate our wandering course.  Near midday, as we trundled wearily along in the sizzling heat, mother suddenly grasped the left line and gave a surge which turned the horses sharply out of the road.  Quite reflexively, father recovered control of the reins; but as he did so mother cried, “Snake!” We looked and there, lying coiled on the center ridge, only two steps ahead of the team, was a monster rattlesnake.  Disturbed by the commotion, he raised his head and as he swayed from side to side, we could hear the sickening buzz of his beaded tail.

Conestoga wagon on the trail in Colorado; image courtesy
of Wikipedia

There are few sounds on earth which can so effectively send chills up and down one’s spines as the rasping whine of this warning signal; and once heard, it cannot be mistaken.  The early Americans put this hostile challenge into words and used it as a slogan which they traced on their flag: “Don’t tread on me.”  Instinctively a horse will not step on one of these creatures but in our case, since we were so close upon the reptile, the horses would have shied apart in order to straddle the spot where he lay.

Now a rattlesnake can strike half of his length repeatedly, without coiling; and the horses’ prancing feet would have been and easy target for this deadly fangs.

The monster was by that time thoroughly aroused, and began to glide toward our team ready for a fight.  But father backed the wagon into the clear and drove in a wide arc around its position.  Then armed with my snake-killing ax, he advanced upon the angry beast. But mother screamed a warning to him and he glanced down at the insignificant weapon and nodded ascent when she cried, “Take the shot gun!”  The roar of that firing piece rolled out across the prairie seeking for some object, which might hurl back an echo, but we heard only one blast.  Yet it was a loud roar for father admitted later, “I got excited and gave him both barrels!”  The snake’s head was almost completely torn away; but we stretched his writhing coils out full length and he measured over eight feet!

Great Basin Rattlesnake; photograph courtesy of the National Park Service

The great snake’s musical appendage consisted of eleven rattles and a button.  We were told that each of these beads represented a year of the serpent’s growth.  Later, father cut off these rattles and tied this chain securely to one strand of a ten-inch loop of string.  He showed me how to rotate my hands with this cord stretched tightly over my thumbs, which had been liberally sprinkled with rosin.  This vibration made the rattles sing like the old serpent himself.  However I made the mistake of testing out this device near my unsuspecting mother and she angrily tossed it into the campfire. 

As we drove on, we had the feeling that we had just awakened from a nightmare.  When we speculated upon our possible predicament, had this reptile bitten one or both of our horses, we realized how dependent we were upon our faithful team.  When we stopped later, Raleigh patted old Nance affectionately and said, “We won’t let any bad snakes bite you, no Ma’am!” Father then explained that the pioneers placed great value upon their horses since they were literally stranded when deprived of their livestock.  For that reason they hanged horse thieves with brief trials and little ceremony.

To settle our nerves after this adventure, we paused for our midday camp in the midst of a sea of flaming red and yellow cactus blossoms."

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Last of the Covered Wagons: Duck and Cover

52 Ancestors #10: Last of the Covered Wagons -- Duck and Cover

Ancestor: Clarence Mern BEARD (1885-1960)

My AncestryDNA test results have led to many interesting discoveries but one of the earliest connections I figured out was with a fifth cousin once removed. Her tree included many wonderful old photographs of her mother's Beard family, the line we share, and stories they wrote. Perhaps, the most treasured outcome of this cousin connection was the gift of friendship. My "new" cousin has shared many things about her life, including a book her uncle, Clarence Mern Beard, wrote about his family's trip west in a covered wagon at the turn of the century. Railroads already linked east and west so the trip was unusual in that the family was still traveling by covered wagon in the late 1890s. She has graciously allowed me to share portions of the book on my blog.

A typical covered wagon used by many families during the great western
migration; photograph courtesy of The Historical Society of Dauphin County

This excerpt is about a storm that sprung up quickly on the vast grassy plains.

"But shortly afternoon, an innocent little day cloud appeared in the southwest and as we watched, it took on a sinister appearance.  We could see flashes of lightning bolts outward from its dark, mass, and as a towering thunderhead mushroomed upward, this cloud spread laterally with amazing rapidity.  It quickly blotted out the sun, and as it did so its color became an ugly dark green.  Tattered segments of cloud tumbled in a mighty rolling motion: while wisps of vapor, which had the appearance of smoke, rolled in an upward sweep across the face of the storm.  As this disturbance approached, a large flock of long-winged, pigeon-size birds wheeled and darted overhead in what appeared to be mad ecstasy or sheer panic, as they drove steadily before the oncoming storm.  These were the insect-feeding creatures of the whippoorwill family, which mother called night-hawks and father called bull-bats, but which the Indians named thunder-birds, because of their habit of acting as heralds of violent weather.

But we had little time to view this awe-inspiring spectacle, for everything had to be piled into the wagon and a tarpaulin stretched over the open front, to turn what was certain to be a driving rain.  Father quickly drove stakes into the ground by each wheel and anchored the spikes into the ground by each wheel and anchored the spikes to these because a heavy gust of wind might have upset the outfit.  The farmer came racing out and told us all to run for the shelter of the cellar, while he and father led the horses into the barn.  Mother hurried the children and Daisy carried Iona; and we all stumbled into the safety of an underground structure, which served as a cooler in the summer, and a frost-free storehouse in the winter, but in this case a cyclone cellar.

Tornado in Nebraska; photograph courtesy of the National Weather Service

By the time the men had joined us, a funnel-shaped tongue had dropped from the cloud; and as it touched the ground, dust and loose objects seemed to leap upward and disappear in the whirling mass.  It was perhaps a mile from our shelter but we could clearly see its rotating cone coming straight toward us.  There was scarcely a stir of air and an ominous silence oppressed us.  There was a crash of thunder and a few spatters of giant raindrops slapped the ground.   Father waited outside for a moment, watching the wild thing with evident fascination until, at the insistence of our host, he ducked into the shelter and slammed the door.  Then in a matter of seconds, this terror was upon us with the roar of a freight train.  We expected to hear the crash of falling buildings and braced ourselves for the blow.  There was a hissing, rending sound, which was smothered by a deluge of rain and hail and a pall of darkness fell over the whole scene.  We had put out the candles for fear they might start a fire, in case the house overhead should be wrecked."

This is my entry for Amy Johnson Crow's 52 ancestors in 52 weeks challenge optional theme Stormy Weather.

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Clarence Mern Beard was born on 7 November 1885 in Ansley, Nebraska, to William Adam and Emma Elizabeth (Elison) Beard. He was their second child and oldest son. He married Helen May Banker, the daughter of prominent Louisiana businessman, Francis Henry Banker, on 30 May 1912 in Calasieu Parish, Louisiana. The couple had two children. Clarence died on 29 August 1960 in Oakland, California.

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