TX BIOS:  Mrs. Arthur B. Duncan
   Selected and converted.American Memory, Library of Congress.
   
   Washington, 1994.
   
   Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.
   
   This transcription intended to be 99.95% accurate.
   
   For more information about this text and this American Memory
   collection, refer to accompanying matter.
   
   U.S. Work Projects Administration, Federal Writers' Project (Folklore
   Project, Life Histories, 1936-39); Manuscript Division, Library of
   Congress.Copyright status not determined.
   
   00011
   
   McGuire, Delise
   
   July 22, 1936
   
   Floyd County
   
   District 17
   
   "Recollections of A Pioneer Mother"
   
   Page 1 230
   
   (By Mrs. Arthur B. Duncan, First settler of Floyd Co) [?] Little
   dugout home so lowlyKnew you not that in your keepingDwelt the
   builders of a nationThe beginning of a people?As they heard the wild
   birds callingLove notes at the mating seasonLove, between a man and
   maidenBuilt the first homes in the West. Years have passed, and from
   their laborNow a West of Strength and beautyRises forth in all its
   splendorLike a bright Celestial CityBut when evening's sun is
   sinkingAnd the world is wrapped in shadowSeems I hear the West Wind
   sighingFor those little dugout homes.
   
   With my husband and my seven months old son, I left Montague County on
   the 1st day of March, in the year 1884, to go to that part of the
   Plains now known as Floyd County to file on a homestead. With us went
   an orphan boy whose name was Bob [DEL: Prine :DEL] Prince. We were on
   the road three months, reaching our destination on June 1st of that
   year. Our road was little more than a trail for the greater part of
   this long journey. There had been little commerce or transportation
   into this new country. Sometimes, when we would get too [DEL: tire
   :DEL] tired to sit longer in the wagon, we would get out and walk
   beside the trails with Bob driving the wagon.
   
   I remember one experience during this trip which has remained vividly
   in my mind throughout the years that followed as typical of the many
   emergencies we we're to meet in the months ahead. In Wichita County,
   still many miles from our destination and from any sign of human
   habitation, we were going down the old McKenzie trail. My husband and
   I were walking beside the wagon, as the horses were having hard going.
   Continued travel over the trail [DEL: over the trail :DEL] had
   
     NOTE: [???]
     
   00022worn the ruts so deep that we had travelled for hours without an
   opportunity to turn out. We told Bob to hatch for a chance to turn
   out, but to be careful, but when he pulled out of the trail the tongue
   snapped in two. Arthur said, "What are we going to do?" I said: "We
   have a saw and a hammer and some nails and sore bed slats. We will fix
   it". and we did, [DEL: we :DEL] so well in fact that we used it for
   several years before that tongue was ever replaced with another.
   
   I don't think I shall ever remember anything more beautiful than my
   first sight of the plans. It was at the time of the year [DEL: when
   :DEL] when nature is at her best in this county. The trees in the
   canyon were green The whole region looked [DEL: untoughed :DEL]
   untouched by the hand of man. As we drove along we saw great white
   mounds of buffalo bones, piled there by the men who had killed the
   buffalo for the hides, leaving the bones to bleach. Later these were
   gathered up and shipped to eastern factories to be used in making
   fertilizer. We saw very few live buffalo. There were occasional small
   herds of antelope, beautiful timid creatures that ran on sight of our
   invading wagon. Coyotes were plentiful and often came quite close to
   our wagon or our camp. We had to watch out for rattlesnakes too.
   Sometimes we would find them directly in our trail, barring further
   passage until they had been disposed of, or sunning on the rocks in
   the canyon.
   
   Our first stop after coming up on the caprock was the home of Hank
   Smith, still known as the "Rock House". They had been here fifteen
   years when we came. We made camp and I went up to the house to get
   some milk and thus met Mrs. Hank Smith for the first time. 00033She
   very kind to us and extended to us the same hospitality for which she
   has always been known. They lived in what is known as Crosby County,
   and she was the first [DEL: lady :DEL] [?] to live in that county.
   
   We stayed there by the rock house for nearly three months before my
   husband found a site on which he wanted to establish our homestead.
   The State was giving this land to settlers who would live on it for
   three years. We drove our wagon down to the place he had chosen, made
   camp, and then he set out for Clarendon to file on the land, leaving
   me there to hold the site while he was gone. I felt very much alone
   away off down there in the canyon, in a strange country, without any
   protection except my own and what meager assurance the fourteen year
   old Bob could offer. As night came on a black cloud began to come up
   in thd west and Bob came to the wagon to say that he had found a
   sheepherder's dugout a short distance away where he thought we had
   better go as it was going to "Rain the bottom out" by the time night
   fell. I hated to go, but as the cloud grew nearer and blacker I
   decided that it would be better. I was afraid the sheep herder would
   come in and find us tresspassing on his property. The storm was
   terrible and we were glad we had sought better shelter than our wagon.
   As it grew dark inside the dugout, Bob cut down some dried pieces of
   meat which were hung from the ceiling and made a fire of them. This
   gave us both light and heat, for which we were extremely grateful.
   When it was quiet again outside we climbed out of the dugout and went
   back to the wagon/ The next day Bob went back to the dugout and under
   the sheepherder's bed, which was hung from the top of the dugout, he
   found a big rattlesnake. I was certainly glad we had decided not to
   sleep in that dugout. 00044The next five days passed quickly enough,
   but I shall never forget how glad I was to see my husband come riding
   in at the end of the fifth day. He had lost his hat in a dust storm.
   He was tired and dusty and hungry but he had the necessary papers for
   our homestead and we were ready to make plans for our new home. Early
   the next morning, however, we had a caller. A cowboy came up to the
   wagon and told us that they wanted to see him, my husband, down at the
   corral, which he indicated was only a short distance down the canyon
   from our camp. They were men of the T M Bar ranch and were English
   landowners and cattlemen. The land on which we had filed happened to
   be on some of their range. Of course stockmen in that day had it in
   for the "Nesters" as they called them and I was afraid for Arthur to
   go down there where they were. I said "Arthur, are you going down
   there with nothing to defend yourself?" and he replied: "I am not
   afraid of them" and went ahead. When he got down to the corral, the
   boss of the outfit asked him jost how he proposed to make a living. He
   told them it was "none of their danged business". When they found that
   they could not discourage him or intimidate him, they announced that
   they would "scare his woman" and would finally drive us off in that
   way.
   
   We moved into the sheepherders dugout where I had taken refuge from
   the storm on that first night. The sheepherder who had built the place
   had belonged to the T. M. Bar ranch and they warned us that we were
   not to disturb either the dugout or any of the equipment or supplies
   we might find in it. But we went ahead, moving his things out into a
   corner of a shelter we had built for our few chickens, thus further
   antagonizing our closest neighbors. 00055One morning I heard my
   shpherd dog making a furious racket outside I went to the door and
   opened it just in time to let the dog run in and escape the lasso with
   which a cowboy was trying to rope him. They know my husband was gone
   all day caring for his flock of sheep, and they were trying to
   frighten me by abusing my dog. The cowboy was coming so fast that he
   was barely able to stop his horse in time to keep him from coming
   right into my dugout. He rode away without a word from either of us,
   but that night when my husband came home, I told him all about it and
   he said he would see that I was ready for such a visit next time. He
   loaded up his big winchester for me and placed it right by the door
   with instructions to use it if I needed to. The next day I heard the
   dog barking again and when I looked out I saw the cowboy was luring
   him away from the house by making him chase his horse. When he thought
   he was far enough away from the houses he whirled his horse and began
   to chase the dog, his rope turning above his head. The dog beat him to
   the dugout, however, and when he came up to the door he dismounted. I
   was ready for him. I picked up my gun and pointed it at him. [DEL: The
   :DEL] [Then?] I said; "Young man, do you think you are any part of a
   gentlemen? If you do, you will get yourself across to the other side
   of this canyon and stay there, or I'll fill you full of lead." That
   cowboy never bothered me again, although they annoyed us when ever
   possible.
   
   The weeks in our dugout home grew quickly into years. We had little
   contact with the outside world. I never saw a woman for months at a
   time. We got our mail at Uncle Hank Smith's in those days. The Rock
   House was the center for any commerce with the outside world. He was
   the Indian Agent for that territory and we often saw tall, gaunt
   indians walking down through the hills of the canyon, on their way to
   see Uncle Hank and get passes to other reservations. We did see a few
   tepees which had survived the passing [DEL: wars :DEL] [?], on some of
   our excursions through the 00066country. They were strongly made of
   buffalo hides and looked as though they might last forever but they
   finally disappeared, some of them, no doubt, being torn down by
   prospectors passing through the country.
   
   We had lived there about three years when a preacher came into our
   country. He was a little preacher the name of Duncan and he was a
   [methodist?] Circuit Rider. Word was sent out through all the region
   round about that we were going to have a camp meeting. People were few
   and far between and about thirty people in all attended that meeting.
   They came from Crosby, Dickens, Motley and Floyd Counties. Some of the
   Quakers from the old settlement of Estacado came also to help us with
   the meeting. We all got together and built a beautiful little tree
   arbor down in the canyon by the river. It was a wonderful thing to all
   of us to be able to mix and mingle with other people again. I
   especially enjoyed two of the Quaker girls who were about my own age;
   I was a very young woman still and I had many long lonely days of
   solitude behind me in the three years since I had come to my new home.
   We would go off down the river between services and talk and pick the
   wild plums and currants and algerita berries from which we would make
   jelly for the winter months.
   
   There was one incident which happened during this meeting which I am
   sure none of those present will ever manage to entirely forget. I had
   been glad to extend the hospitality of our humble home to all of the
   visiting people we could accomodate, and my supplies, which had not
   allowed for such an emergency, were running low. It was nearly time
   for one of the trips to Colorado City which the men made twice a year,
   to take down the crop of wool and bring back six months provision of
   flour, sugar, mollasses and coffee with whatever things were
   considered indispensable to this primitive way of living. I had
   several guests that morning for breakfast and 00077[DEL: [?] :DEL] 7
   
   I had put forth my best efforts and [most?] of my remaining supplies
   to make it as nice as I could for them. But just as I had put it all
   on the table and turned to call my company in, I noticed that dirt was
   falling from the ceiling above. As I looked, the dirt-fell faster, and
   then in a cascade that completely covered my table. My husband was
   standing in the door of the dugout and saw what was happening, and as
   we looked, we saw the hind leg of a big steer come through the top of
   our dugout. He had wandered down from the caprock above and had fallen
   through our roof. Well, of course the breakfast was ruined, but there
   was nothing to do but face the situation as we had faced countless
   others. Arthur said, "Mother, what are we going to do?" I said, "Why
   get a shovel and lets unload this dirt" and that was the only thing we
   could do, except rescue the steer and repair the roof.
   
   My husband's brother, Wood Duncan, had settled some miles up the
   canyon from us. He was very kind to us and helped us over many hard
   places. I shall never forget him and his old sour dough bucket which
   always went with him on his sheep herding expeditions. He was a good
   cook and was always cook for the outfit when they all got together
   during shearing [timeo?] or on other occasions which demanded the
   services of more than one man. When he killed a sheep, he always
   brought us a "Ham of mutton". About the only kind of pies we could
   have in those days were vinegar pie. He would buy the vinegar in huge
   barrels. One day he gave me a bottle of vinegar and I put it on some
   beets which I had raised in a little garden I had managed to get
   started. When it came off it was a beautiful red. We had so little
   color in those days that I thought that jar of vinegar was the
   prettiest thing I ever saw. One day I had a guest for dinner and I
   determined to use the vinegar for a pie. He insists to this day that
   that was the best and the prettiest' pie he has ever eaten. 00088We
   were always glad to have any company, and to offer food and lodging to
   any wayfarer who passed our way. One day an old Mexican woman riding a
   burro, and her son, came to our door and by means of signs and grunts
   asked for food and a place to sleep. We could not understand any of
   their speech and they could not understand us, but we had them come
   in, gave them supper [anda?] a place to sleep and the next morning
   sent them on their way not regretting our hospitality in the least.
   But more was to come. We began to notice the little crawling things
   known as cooties hopping out of our clothing and jumping about nearly
   every place we happened to look. Our guests had left us a generous
   supply in payment for our kindness. I didn't know what to do to get
   rid of them, but [DEL: wood wold :DEL] Wood told told us to put all
   the bed clothing and everything movable out in the sun and that the
   ants would eat them up. I did this but I could not be content until I
   had washed everything that was washable and had aired them all
   throughly until we were finally rid of them.
   
   We would sometimes see man or a group of men, walking down a wild
   horse or mustang. These men were called horse hunters and they caught
   these wild plains horses by the simple expedient of walking them until
   they were too tired to go further or trapping them in some canyon from
   which they were not clever enough to escape. I remember one mustang in
   particular, which two horse hunters had trapped, or thought they had
   at least, in a place close to our dugout. He was the handsomest horse
   I have ever seen, a great dapple-grey stallion. He was almost
   exhausted when night fell, but he climbed a bluff, a feat which
   appeared impossible and escaped for awhile longer. I never learned
   wherher they caught him or not, but these men were persistent and I
   feel sure that they finally accomplished his capture.
   00099Rattlesnakes, coyotes and skunks were our ever present neighbors
   and we learned to keep out of their way whenever [DEL: posible :DEL]
   possible. Sometimes the coyotes would venture quite close to the house
   and my small son would seat himself on a big white rock just outside
   the door, armed with a butcher knife, and announce that he "Would take
   care of me". Our house was usually security enough from all these
   dangers. But it was not always proof against the heavy rains. When it
   had rained just so much, the water would begin to seep through the top
   of the dugout and I would have to cover the bed with a tarpaulin, and
   put coats over the babies to keep as dry as possible [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   until it was over. One evening after a heavy rain, my husband came in
   from his day with the sheep and found us so. He stopped in the door,
   and at the sorry sight we presented, all the discouragements of the
   months behind seemed to come to his mind and he said in a pathetic
   way: "See what you got into by marrying me". I gave him a grin and
   told him that if we never had anything worse than that to contend
   with, we would get through fine. And we did.
   
   Our first little girl, the first girl baby born in Floyd County, was
   born in the beginning of our third year on our homestead. She was
   frail and fair and seemed entirely too delicate to ever survive in
   such rugged surroundings. Arthur was so proud of her. He called her
   "the lily of the canyon and the rose of all the plains". We had few of
   the things that are considered necessary to the rearing of children in
   these days but they grew stong and [DEL: [sturd y?] :DEL] sturdy on
   what we had to give them. With this increase in our family, I needed
   another bed for the dugout. I had no material with which to make one
   except some tow sack. In those days the sacks were used for taking
   wool to the market, and were much stronger and more closely woven than
   those of today. I pulled some of the 001010threads from the sacks to
   use for thread to sew them with, and when I had it all made, I went
   down to the river and cut me some of the tall grass to fill it with.
   When I had it all filled, I thought that that mattress, made of tlean
   tow-sacks and filled with new mown hay, was the sweetest smelling bed
   I had ever seen. This grass, by the way, [DEL: [?] :DEL] grew in
   profusion in the lakes and in the dry season the men would cut and
   bale it for hay for winter feed. When the grass was cut, you could
   sometimes see the "Salt Licks" where the buffalo had come down and
   licked the alkaline spots for salt.
   
   The first three years we spent in the canyon, we had no cows. It was
   next to impossible to obtain milk for any purpose. So it was that
   when, at the end of that time, Zack Maxwell, my husbands
   brother-in-law, came our way, we were almost as overjoyed to see the
   three cows he was bringing with him, as we were to see him and to have
   word from home. Two of the cows were his and the other one my mother
   was sending to me. All three had calves, I was so proud of mine that I
   hated for night to come and take them from my sight. The next morning
   we were out bright and early, but my calf was nowhere to be seen. It
   had wandered off down the canyon and had fallen into a shallow well
   and drowned. This was a [DEL: [?] :DEL] real tradgedy to me. It took
   me a long time to get over the loss of my calf. Zack Maxwell, had come
   to settle in this country and he located in Plainview, the first
   settler at that place although it did not bear that name until later.
   
   My twin brother, J. J, Day, then came to make his home in this [DEL:
   rvgion :DEL] region and settled some seven or eight miles above us in
   what is now known as Starkey. My mother, a widow, and a survivor of
   other pioneer days, came to make her home with him. They lived there
   for many years and for a long time ran the post office, his wife,
   Mattie Day, taking care of all [DEL: incoming [???] :DEL] mail for the
   entire country round about. 001111One day, when Arthur had gone over
   to Estacado on / Busines, he sent me word [by?] a cowboy that he could
   not get back that night. Bob, who [DEL: sill :DEL] still made his home
   with us, was off with the sheep. I had never had to stay alone at
   night, and I felt that I just could not do it. So I went out, hitched
   the horses to the wagon, and got ready to go over to my brother's
   house. But my plans did not work out. The men had taken the bed out of
   the wagon and had put in long poles for hauling hay. I started out,
   however. putting my babies back of me on the poles. But they were not
   heavy enough to hold the poles in place, the poles began to slip out
   ani the babies with them. So I had to go back and spend the night
   alone. This experience was hardly as bad as one which another pioneer
   woman of my later acquaintance recalled, however. One night when her
   husband failed to come home, she went out to look for her cows and
   when night fell, found that she was lost. She was afraid to stay in
   one place, for fear some wandering cows might run over some of the
   children, so she walked all night, carrying the baby and the other
   children holding on to her skirts. When morning came, she found that
   she had stumbled, exhausted up to about three hundred yards of her
   home. In the dark she had been unable to see it. The woman was Mrs.
   Van Leonard whom many early settlers will remember and who resides in
   Floydada today.
   
   As time went on, my growing family needed new clothes. I used to take
   the big flour and sugar sacks and make garments out of them. Sometimes
   I was able to dye them and make little girls pretty dresses. For
   thread I used ravelings from "Sea Island" domestic. These sacks were
   of a strong heavy quality and made substantial garments. We had to be
   careful and watchful of our needles of course, for the loss of one was
   a misfortune that could not be very quickly remedied. I do not
   remember my own record as to keeping a [DEL: [needl?] :DEL] needle,
   but Mrs. D. D. 001212Shipley, an early comer to Floyd County, one told
   me that she kept and used one needle for seven years.
   
   I made every effort possible to make our dugout home attractive and
   livable. I nailed tow sacks to [DEL: [?] :DEL] the walls and covered
   them with newspapers. These made a clean surface, on which the light
   was more easily captured from our one window, and they could by
   changed as often as need be. My dugout had two compartments, the
   kitchen and the bedroom or "Parlor". One day a family camped down near
   us and the lady came up to see if she could borrow my coffee grinder.
   Of course, I was [DEL: [?] :DEL] glad to loan it to her and asked her
   into my home. She had never seen such a dwelling before, and, since I
   had put in so many untiring efforts to make it as attractive as
   possible, I was, naturally proud of it and expected her to make some
   nice comment. What she said was: "Oh, but isn't it snaky down here". I
   was too stricken to answer for a [DEL: [?] :DEL] moment but I finally
   recovered enough to say that I supposed it looked that way to her, but
   that it was the best home I had.
   
   I usually went with my husband to milk the cows. One day when we had
   finished the evenings' milking and were coming back to the dugout, we
   saw a skunk on the path just ahead of us. We had never had an
   encounter with one at such close range. Arthur handed me the milk
   buckets, got him a long stick and said he would kill it. He followed
   it for a short distance down the canyon, giving it [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   sharp little blows. Presently he hit it hard on the head. The next
   thing I knew he was calling me loudly and I dropped the milk buckets
   and ran to him as quickly as I could to see what was wrong. He had
   thought the skunk was dead, had stooped to inspect his "kill" and had
   received a full dose of the "skunk medicine" right in the eyes. He was
   completely blinded for 001313several hours. Later on, in our home in
   Floydada he was to have [DEL: [and?] :DEL] an experience quite as bad.
   Our cellar door was a trap door, opening only from the outside. One
   afternoon the children had come in with the news that a skunk was in
   the cellar. He went down to see about it, with me at his heels. He
   sent me back for a hoe to kill it with. I handed him the hoe, and then
   in my excitement, shut the cellar door, leaving him alone to face his
   enemy in the dark. I soon realized from his remarks what I had done,
   and I let him out before any serious damage was done.
   
   We had lived in our dugout home for seven years before Floyd County
   was organized, that land then being attached to Crosby County. My
   husband was elected the first judge of the county when it was
   organized and the election held. The polls were held at our dugout and
   there were nineteen voters. I cooked dinner for them. I enjoyed being
   in "social life" again quite as much as I had enjoyed the camp meeting
   years ago. My son was now seven years old and I had three daughters,
   aged five years, three years and fifteen months, when we moved from
   our dugout home into town. The town which was the county sent was
   first called Floyd City. It had to be changed when it was discovered
   that there was already a town in the State by that name, and they
   discussed calling it Duncanville. This too was ruled out because of a
   Post Office already in existence by that name and they finally called
   it Floydada.
   
   I cannot express the emotions I had when we moved our goods into the
   town and into a real house. It was only a two room fram house, but it
   had real windows and doors and wooden floors, [DEL: [?] :DEL] and a
   queen in all the splendor of her palace [DEL: [?] :DEL] could not have
   [DEL: [?] :DEL] gloried in her riches as much as I did in that home. I
   had walked on [DEL: [?] :DEL] dirt floors for so long that it took me
   a long time to become accustomed to hearing the sound of my footsteps
   on the floors as I went back and forth at my daily work. The children,
   too, were bewildered and overjoyed at the change in [DEL: our
   fortunes. They had never [???] :DEL] 001414our fortunes. They had
   never seen such a home before. In this "Palatial" residence we lived,
   entertained such guests or wayfarers as came our way and, when the
   county institute was held in Floydada, we even boarded some of the
   teachers.
   
   Lumber for the houses and business buildings in the [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   new town tonw was hauled down from Childress. There was only one other
   residence besides ours, at first. The other people moving in lived in
   dugouts until they could arrange for the building or more substantial
   homes. The business [?] section consisted of a hotel, two dry goods
   stores and an open saloon. Court was held in the upper story of the
   Ainsworth Dry Goods store until a courthouse was built many months
   later. The first school house was a frame building about thirty feet
   long, and, there were just about twenty-five pupils for this first
   school. With the coming of the / Railroad a few years later, more
   people came in and the town grew accordingly.
   
   We felt ourselves to be quite prosperous, considering our prospects in
   those early days on the canyon. We had acquired twenty-four head of
   cattle, a wagon and a team and our small stock of household goods. The
   things we had brought with us from Montague County had seen such hard
   usage as to have passed on in favor of newer things. It was necessary
   for us to reach out and take advantage of every opportunity, no matter
   how small, that came our way. Our family was large and even with the
   changed conditions of living in a town where we had neighbors, we
   still put up with hardships that the present day [DEL: wom :DEL] woman
   would find it hard to take [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   
   Changes came quickly. Our family grew, and we added on to our two
   rooms until the big old house as it stands today was completed. As the
   town grew we had advantages for our children far in advance of
   anything we had known ourselves. The new age was being ushered in. We
   were able to secure music lessons for our girls as they grew to school
   age. We owned an organ which was the pride of the household and which
   was considered the height of luxury in those days.
   
   My husband, Arthur B. Duncan, was county judge of the county where he
   established his homestead for eighteen years. I recall the coming of
   R. T. Miller and his family to Floydada, where Mr. Miller served as
   the [DEL: first [?] :DEL] 001515first county clerk of the county.
   Another old timer of those first days of Floydada was J. D. Starks and
   his wife. They [DEL: [?] :DEL] still make Floydada their home.
   
   About two years after we moved to Floydada, my husband brought a grist
   mill into the town and people for miles around would come in to have
   their milo maize, corn and other grains ground into meal. This grist
   mill was run with the wind and we did business when the wind blew/
   Sometimes my husband would get up way in the night to go grind meal
   for some fellow when the wind would rise after a still day. With the
   passing of the mill and other contrivances of the pioneer days, came
   in the [DEL: [nw?] :DEL] new era, bringing its mills, its elevators
   and all of the kindred machinery and equipment known to modern days
   for the answering of the needs of man. So must pass all pioneer days
   as the years bring fulfilment of their promises to the newer
   generations.
   
   - 30 - 5,389 words

************************************************************************
USGENWEB ARCHIVES NOTICE:  These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced
in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or
persons.  Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must
obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative
of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of
this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives
to store the file permanently for free access.

http://www.rootsweb.com/~usgenweb/

Thanks to the Library of Congress
http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/txcat.html
***********************************************************************