Language of the Times

[Hardcase]

I found a clipping from either the Idaho Statesman or the Idaho World over the weekend that had an interview with John Hailey, one of the early packers into the Idaho gold mines. He and his partner, William Ish, ran saddle trains from Umatilla, Oregon into the Boise Basin. Here's how he described it:

The owner of the train would furnish each passenger with a horse and a saddle so he could ride, would also pack a small amount of baggage for each person and furnish sufficient amount of substantial provisions for the trip, with the necessary cooking utensils. The passengers did the cooking in camp while the train-master looked after the animals, packing, etc. The fare for this trip was fifty dollars and each passenger was exprected to pay in advance. Toll cost about ten dollars for the round trip for each animal, and added to this was the cost of the grub, the shoeing of the animals, th ewages for the train-master, and frequently the loss of a horse or two. It took about fourteen days for the round trip and then the horses and train-master had to lay off for a week to rest from the hard trip, so it will be seen that all they took in was not clear profit.

It was quite a trip, back in 1863. The train had to cross the Blue Mountains, go through the Grande Ronde valley, then the Baker valley. It would follow the Burnt River to the Snake, then the Payette River to the little town of Horseshoe Bend (which is a thriving little burg today). Then it would follow Harris Creek over what we call The Divide and into the Basin. To be honest, if a round trip was fourteen days, then they must have been moving right along because that is some very rough country even today! A person in a car could make the trip one way in a long day, but that's at highway speeds on the Interstate most of the way. On horseback? No thanks!

One of the books that I have on the Basin says that the next year, Hailey and Ish started a stage service from Umatilla, advertising that the trip could be made in just four days - about 75 miles a day!

 

[ZVP]

I just picked up a copy of"Cowboy Slang" by Edgar R Potter.
I got it used but it's sure worth every penny that even a new version costs!
It dosen't have all the slang of the period for sure but it does highlight much ofthe daily twists of the language you'd run into.
It never fails the human animal will twist and turn the "right" word and try to make it humorous in discussion.
Some was because of illiteracy and some was simply brilliant twists of a word!
Keep your eyes open for this book, its a fun read!
ZVP

 

[Hardcase]

Some was because of illiteracy and some was simply brilliant twists of a word!

Oh absolutely! It strikes me that there was much more attention paid to literacy and a sort of "classic" education, even if it was homespun, than most people think.

It's telling, I think, that one of the first buildings that went up in Idaho City (well, after the saloons and the jail) was a theater. And it worked hard to book acts that traveled between Salt Lake City and Portland. And not bawdy stuff, either, but Shakespeare and the like.

I suspect that there were plenty of twists of a word that were quite brilliant in origin. Those old fellers may not have had a finishing school education, but they weren't illiterate hicks, either.

 

[Hardcase]

I was kind of surprised to find out just how literate and, I guess, "socialized" the miners in the early to mid 1860s were. I ran across a book that somebody in my family bought a long time ago about the Boise Basin and one of the chapters discussed entertainment in Idaho City and the surrounding area.

There were plenty of saloons and bars, along with the hurdy-gurdy girls (who were not prostitutes) and the "soiled doves" (who were), but, according to the state historical society, most of the mining towns had a brass band, some of them had theaters (of the live stage kind, of course) and there were even a few literary clubs - Idaho City had a German literary club - there was a sizable German population in the Basin, even though Germany as a country didn't exist until 1870.

I suppose that the sort of "high society" level of entertainment isn't so odd when you figure that most of the men (and it was, for several decades, pretty much a "men only" settlement) were immigrants from either the eastern United States or from Europe. They didn't give up on culture - they brought it with them. Or at least, they brought a version of it. Here's a story from the Idaho World from the 1880s about Johnny Kelly, a violinist who was such a fine performer that he caught the eye of the territorial governor, William McConnell (who wrote the following about Kelly's early 1860s performances):

He commanded a salary second to none and was engaged in the largest gambling resort in the city. The contract under which he played included the installation of a swinging stage or platform, swung by iron rods from the upper joists, several feet above the heads of those who might stand on the main floor below. This platform was reached by a movable ladder, which, after he ascended, he pulled up out of reach of those below. The object was two-fold; first, when located upon his aerie, he was removed from the danger of panics which were an almost nightly occurrence, caused from the sportive instincts of some visitor who, having imbibed too freely of the regulation vest-pocket whiskey, or having suffered some real or imaginary grievance, proceeded to distribute the leaden pellets of a Colt's navy revolver, not only into the anatomy of the offender, but quite as frequently to the serious, if not fatal injury of some innocent bystander.

When it is understood that it was not unusual for 500 men to be present in the room at the time these diversions occurred, it is not difficult to imagine the kind of panic liable to ensue. Hence the first object of Kelly's lofty perch. His second object was to be above the course of flying missiles and thus preserve his violin, which as a valuable on, from the chance of being perforated by stray bullets.

Apparently Johnny Kelly gained enough fame that he eventually toured the country and even made it back to his old home in Ireland, where he died in the 1870s.

 

[Hardcase]

I hope that you guys enjoy reading this stuff at least half as much as I do discovering it. I know that a lot of it doesn't have as much meaning to you as to me and I'm honestly not sure just how typical my corner of the West was compared to other parts of the Frontier, but it's all pretty fun to me.

Anyway, among all the papers and photos that were left to me or that I've borrowed from relatives is a copy of The Early History of Idaho by William McConnell. He was one of the early settlers in the Boise Basin area and later one of the first two senators when Idaho became a state in 1890. He was also governor for one term.

His book is really quite funny in places - sometimes it was meant to be, other times the clever twists of a phrase to meet with the Victorian sensibilities of the time really make me chuckle. Here's a passage:

During the summer of 1863 large wagon trains of emigrants from Missouri and Arkansas arrived in Idaho. They consisted of entire families of men, women and children, and would have been a desirable acquisition to the population of any country. They had abandoned their former homes to escape the terrors of guerrilla warfare, which was epidemic in those states at that time. As a rule they brought with them good teams and wagons and such household goods as were portable. Their advent marked the arrival of the first feather-beds into the territory. They also brought a new element into the country - an element which made the mountains look more attractive. It was immediately noted by the young men that the rivers and brooks which had heretofore gone silently on their way, made sweet music as they traveled over their pebbly beds; the birds sang more sweetly; even the clouds which swept the summer skies bore laughter on their wings. The magic which wrought such marvelous changes was a bevy of girls. When the train of wagons on which they traveled reached Boise City and stopped on the main street to permit some of the families to purchase articles from the stores, the card games, billiard halls and saloons were quickly deserted, even the "barkeep" and the "lookout" for the "faro" games, with their hair parted in the middle, were soon in the front row along the sidewalks, craning their necks to get a peep. "Goo-goo" eyes were seen on the Boise streets for the first time that day. Whether they were an importation from Missouri or Arkansas matters not - they did effective work. Other trains quickly followed the first, and a camp was established on the riverbank near the outskirts of the town, where acquaintances were formed, and during the evenings which followed, sitting around their smouldering camp fires, plans for the future were amde by the older people, while the girls and their visitors from town formed groups of two beneath the blinking stars. Each mountain swain had wondrous tales to tell - of dreary days and nights alone. Of course they had never loved before, and never could again. 'Twas thus the stories ran, while mothers, argus-eyed looked on.

These fathers grim had guns; some had been tried at Wilson Creek, and others on the plains. So every vow made on that river bank was kept. There was a dearth of wedding gowns, dearth of wedding bells; but "eyes spoke love to eyes that spoke again" and ere the slim young moon that first had listened to their sighs had grown to full, many a young bachelor had been bound in hymeneal ties, and was enjoying for the first time, since leaving home and mother, the comforts of a feather-bed. Of the marriages resulting from these speedy courtships, I have yet to learn of a divorce. Many of the immigrants of that year located in Boise valley, while a few crossed the divide to Payette. Among the latter may be named the Flourneys, the Burges family, and others.

That's how my great, great, great uncle, Frank Cooper met his wife, Libby. They went on to own the Warm Springs Resort, a hugely popular natural hot springs just an hour or so wagon ride south of Idaho City (and, I might add, scheduled to reopen this winter - alas, it's been out of the family for about 110 year!)

I don't think that a shotgun was necessary for Uncle Frank to keep his vow, though.

 

[James K]

The level of education in those times was actually higher than it is today in many ways. Grade school children learned English grammar, mathematics, history, geography, poetry, some classic literature and, of course, writing and penmanship of a quality that has not been seen in decades.

Far from illiterate rabble, the general American public was quite well educated in those days, and the letters of pioneers and Civil War soldiers bear this out.

Jim

 

[mec]

One occasionally quoted piece of 19th century literature was a letter to a friend from a woman embarked on the western expansion with her new husband. It was an innocent and frank explication of the joys of marital fecundation written in flowery 19th century language and in apparent ignorance of religious prejudices against that sort of thing. It might have been fake but we would like to think it was genuine.

 

[Hardcase]

It seems like the Cooper family members who stayed in Missouri could never quite get ahead financially. The farm at Houses Springs seemed to have been a pretty marginal operation (and it doesn't look like farming-type land on Google Maps), consequently, there was plenty of hustling for work.

Of course, the work was typical for the times - manual labor, for the most part, so if a fella got injured, well, he just didn't work.

Here's a letter from (I think) Alexander Cooper to his sister Jennette. They were siblings of my great, great grandfather. Jennette lived on the farm and Alex lived in St. Louis. I added a few periods, but the spelling and grammar are the genuine article.

june the 19th 84

Sister i will send you a few lines hopping this will find you all well as it leaves me the same at present. i am going to lave for grandrappids mich tuesday on a boat 280 miles over the lake. it is 561 miles from st louis. i will stay there a few days then i will come home. nettie that man will bring a 160.00 to you satarday eveing and if he dont send little Charley to get it for you. his name is emet tobin 1708 10st.

i will wright to you as soon as i get in the other town. you can wright to me before i go. i will get your letter anyway if you send one to me. you can send a letter home and tell the folks i am going. i would send you some money but i am out of work again. but as soon as i get to work i will send you some.

i will Close
Love to all

Alex Cooper

Another page was included in the envelope, but it based on the dates mentioned, it was probably sometime in December of 1884. That's part of the difficulty in sorting through these things. Or part of the fun...

St. Louis mo

to all at home

i got your letter Thursday. well i got my hand cut again. i went to the doctor and had it tied up. i gess the doctor bill it will cost seven dollars. i am getting a over coat made for $23. i must pay $10 monday dec 5th. tell nettie to come in monday dec 11th and i will go with her to get a clock if i get money enought. puss and all is well.

i would had the money if i had not got cut.

from Cooper

On a side note, Alexander's wife Mary committed suicide about ten years later by drinking carbolic acid. He killed himself not long after that by throwing himself into the Missouri River so as not to be a burden on his children. This was at the height of the Panic of 1893, which probably played a pretty big role.