WILLIAM HENRY BOYD
Submitted by:  Vivian Goodman
 


IT'S PEOPLE THAT MAKE NOLAN COUNTY GREAT
 
William Henry Boyd was a cowman for the Goodnight-Loving cattle drives that went from Texas to Colorado.  In 1868 he was a   member of the funeral cavalcade that returned the body of Loving (killed in an Indian raid) from New Mexico to Weatherford.

Mr. Boyd, his wife, Melissa Ellen Hughes, and three children came to Nolan County in about 1880.  They are listed in the 1880   census. They had two log cabins near Black Mountain in Mulberry Canyon, in the White Church community.
Melissa Ellen died in 1883 at the birth of a son, the fifth child.  She was the second person buried at White Church Cemetery.

Mr. Boyd's second wife was Martha Jane Coffee.  They had seven children.

The family broke land and built a house on Plum Creek in 1905.  Boyd and two sons filed on the land, paying $1.00 per acre to   the State of Texas.  These homesteads are still in the Boyd name.
 
(This was submitted to the paper by Cate-Spencer Funeral home during the time of the centennial for Nolan County in 1982.) 
 

 West Texas Trail Blazers
by R.C. Crane
 
W.H. Boyd has been a resident of Nolan County for over 50 years.  He is well preserved, highly respected and has a large family connection.

(A footnote is added stating-These sketches were written about 1931.  Mr. Boyd has since died.  vg)
 
He came to Texas as a very small boy and grew up in Ellis and Dallas Counties. In 1881 he came to Nolan County and settled on Bitter Creek, buying a section of land from E.F. Henry, one of the first county commissioners of Nolan County.  He has lived in the same vicinity ever since.
 
He is a pioneer of West Texas.  During the 1880's he drilled wells all over northwest Texas-in Potter County, before the permanent location of Amarillo was settled, in Floyd and a number of other Plains counties before they were organized.  His has been a life of varied experiences, but probably his outstanding experience occurred in 1867, when all west and northwest Texas had only a few hundred people, outside of soldiers at the military posts, and when wild Indians roamed at liberty all over the region, sometimes committing depredations almost in sight of the military posts.  He tells interestingly of going with a trail herd of cattle from Gainesville, Texas, to Fort Stanton, New Mexico, under these conditions, with one of the very first herds to make the trip. 

But let him tell the tale:
 
In the fall of 1867, I became a cowboy to go with a herd of cattle from that place to Fort Stanton, New Mexico.  The herd was owned by a man by the name of Bill Cloud, and the trail boss was a man by the name of Bill Bostick.
 
Cloud had a contract with the United States Government to deliver his herd of cattle at Fort Stanton, New Mexico, the cattle to be rationed out at that place to the Indians.  We left Gainesville in September, and there were two wagons in the outfit, and about twenty-four men, all told.  I was the youngest one in the bunch, and I was not then old enough to vote.  Each Wagon was drawn by four mules.  We left Gainesville with 804 head of cattle.  You want to remember this number, 804, so that we can make comparisons with the number of cattle we had when we got to the end of the trail.  Coming westward, we struck the trail of the old Southern Butterfield Stage Line in the vicinity of Jacksboro.  It was plainly marked all the way.  All through Jack, Young and Stephens Counties, we passed ranches and ranch homes which had been temporarily abandoned by their owners on account of numerous Indian raids through that region during the preceding months.  The owners of these homes had been driven away from them.
 
Forts and camps were supposed then to be occupied by United States soldiers, but there were no soldiers at that time at Fort Belknap, Camp Cooper, Phantom Hill or at Fort Chadbourne, which were all on the line of road we traveled, and the first soldiers' camp that we came across, we found at Wilson's Creek in Shackelford County, near where Fort Griffin was afterwards established.
 
Bill Cloud had been an old Texas Ranger and came with the herd as far as Wilson's Creek, and then turned it over to Bill Bostick, the trail boss.  At the Wilson Creek camp, the Trail Boss applied for soldier protection for the herd, and was furnished a sargent squad, consisting of the sargent and six men.  These went with the herd from there until we reached the Middle Concho, twenty miles above the site of Fort Concho and there we camped for a week or ten days, waiting for another squad of soldiers from Camp Concho to go with us.  The first soldier escort was composed of Irishmen, and they were a good bunch; but out of Concho, we were furnished a corporal and about twenty men who were altogether different in type and make-up, from the first squad.  The cow outfit did not think much of this latter bunch, as they consisted of Dutchmen, Italians, etc., and we thought that in case of trouble with hostile Indians, the cow outfit would have to protect the soldiers, rather than get any protection from them. 
 
The ruins of the old stage stands were then still to be seen all along the road every fifteen to thirty miles.  Near the mouth of Dead Man's Creek, a few miles northeast of the site of Abilene, a younger brother of Bill Cloud and I-both of us mere boys-got after several buffalo, but it was so late in the evening that the coming on of dark interfered and prevented our getting our meat.  Men who had been sent ahead of the herd to locate a camping place, told us they had seen two Indians in the vicinity where we were chasing the buffalo; but we never believed their statement, always thinking that they sought to scare us into being more careful in our movements.  At that time, the buffalo herds were just beginning to come into that region from their northern grazing grounds.
 
In Mulberry Canyon, in Taylor County, the ruins of the stage stand showed that it had been constructed of rock.  In other places these had been built of adobe brick, and at other places, of poles.  The stage road which we were traveling passed right by old Fort Chadbourne, whose ruins were at that time in a fairly good state of preservation, with the roofs still in good shape on the old buildings.  We followed the old Butterfield Trail to the Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos River.  At that time John Chisum was moving his cattle from the Concho to New Mexico, and was locating them in the vicinity of where Roswell, New Mexico, is now located.  
 
When his herd reached the Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos, they turned up the Pecos toward Fort Stanton, and followed the route which had been followed by the Goodnight and Loving herd previously crossing the Pecos to the west side near the mouth of Delaware Creek, which ran eastward along the Texas and New Mexico line and emptied into the Pecos.
 
When our herd got in about fifty miles of Fort Stanton, we ran out of some of our supplies, and the boss went ahead with one of the wagons, and several men, to old Fort Stanton, to get the supplies we needed.  When they reached Fort Stanton, they learned of the incident surrounding Oliver Loving's fight with the Indians and his death.
 
At that time, all supplies reaching Fort Stanton were being hauled by mule and ox teams by way of the Old Santa Fe Trail from Leavenworth, Kansas, and quite naturally, When they reached Fort Stanton they were rather expensive.  When we delivered our cattle at Fort Stanton we delivered 1,160 head, 356 more than we had left Gainesville with.  We never bought a head or stole one, nor did the outfit knowingly  pick up any strays.  The only explanation of this increase in the number of cattle we had, after driving them over six hundred miles is that back in Jack and Young counties the settlers had been driven away from their homes by the Indian raids and their cattle were left behind running wild on the old ranges.  As our herd passed, these cattle might, without being noticed, have filtered into our trail herd.  This was made possible by reason of the fact that there were then no inspectors on the trail, and no need to clean the herd from the time we left Gainesville until we reached Fort Stanton, New Mexico.
 
Our outfit stayed at Fort Stanton that winter, and in February following threw in with the Oliver Loving outfit to return to Texas.  At that time, Goodnight was driving his stock cattle to southern Colorado where he was locating a ranch.
 
When Oliver Loving died from injuries received in his fight with the Indians, his friends  knew that his remains would be carried back to Texas for burial, so they had an old-style coffin built out of one-inch lumber, incased with tin.  This coffin was put in a larger box and between the walls of the coffin and the box several inches of beaten-up charcoal was packed, and thus, the coffin was completely surrounded by several inches of charcoal.  This made the containing box and all of its contents large and heavy.  In this manner, the remains of Oliver Loving were brought back to his home in Palo Pinto County for burial.
 
We had no unusual experiences on the return trip, and there was nothing indicated by our manner of traveling that we were bringing back to Texas for its last resting place the remains of one of the outstanding cattlemen of the period and the region.  When we got to Loving's old home in Palo Pinto County, the box was so heavy that it took six big strong men to handle it, and it was so large that it could not be carried through the doors of the Loving home. 
 
On the return, we saw large number of buffalos, and ate buffalo meat most of the way back, especially in the open prairie country.  In the open country in the region where Winters is now located, there were great herds of them.  There is something rather peculiar about the way buffalo graze while traveling or migrating.  The buffalo does not, like the cow, move his head from side to side, or cut a very wide swath, but moves straight ahead, and eats the grass clean as he moves forward, eating as he moves with the herd.
 
When I came to Nolan County, James Manning was still running his little store out on Sweetwater Creek, about three miles southeast of where Sweetwater is now located.  He was Postmaster at the time, and I got my first mail there, though the Post office was soon moved to the present site of Sweetwater.
 
This store was first started in a dug-out, but when I came to that vicinity, it was being conducted in a shack built of cedar poles.  There is a fence between Sweetwater and where I live, which was built, in part, of some of those poles which were in this old Manning store, the building having been torn down, and the poles used in fence construction.

 
THIS LAST ONE IS AN ADDED ONE DUE TO HIM LIVING IN REGION.  
(I can remember daddy taking me & my sister to drink out of the springs there before we moved from area in 1953.)
 
May 14, 1998 Abilene Reporter
 
Mulberry Canyon Bears stories of Indians, buffalo and smoldering volcanos
by BILL WHITAKER
Associate Editor
 
 To hear local historians, Mulberry Canyon has long needed a succinct, straightforward historical marker, if only to set the record   straight.

 Come Saturday afternoon, that record will stand tall - though perhaps not so tall as the tales once told about the canyon.

 A horseshoe-shaped valley stretching from Taylor into Nolan counties, Mulberry Canyon has long evoked an air of mystery, as   much for striking landmarks such as "Blowout Mountain"-- a sleeping volcano, tale spinners said --- as for tales of marauding   Indians.

 The Taylor County Historical Commission hopes to state a few of the more reliable facts with the unveiling of a state historical   marker during a 2 p.m. ceremony.  The unveiling will be held in western Taylor County, where Farm Roads 126 and 1085 meet.

 "One reason we're doing this is because it's part of the early day settlement of Taylor County," historian Darris Egger said.  "For   instance, the Butterfield Trail transcends it.  And it also happens to have been settled by some most interesting people."

 "It's just a fascinating place."

 Fascinating--and also off the beaten track.  The center of the canyon is approximately nine miles southwest of Merkel and seven   miles south of Trent.  The canyon is 11 miles long east and west and six miles north and south.  It is classified as part of the   Edwards Plateau.

 Egger is right about the canyon attracting interesting people.  They range from the Rev. Moses Norris, a buffalo hunter and circuit  rider who started the area's famed White Church, to Richard Petree, current chief appraiser of the Taylor County Central   Appraisal District and a Methodist paster with ties in the canyon.

 Petree, now pastor of Nolan United Methodist Church, will be in attendance at Saturday's ceremony.  If Norris is there, it will be   only in spirit.

 Late in the last century, ranchers and cowboys routinely talked about savage Indians favoring the canyon- mostly so that others   would forget about settling the region.  Nevertheless, several small communities developed in the area.

 Buffalo hunters frequented the region in the 1870s and settlers began to occupy the land soon afterward.  In 1877, a herd of   buffalo estimated to 800 head wintered in Mulberry Canyon and a herd numbering several thousand passed through it the spring   of 1879.

 This is believed to be one of the last major herds of buffalo in the United States.

 "Mulberry Canyon has undeniable appeal for historians," said Ann White, who assembles much of the area's past for the Taylor   County Historical Commission.  "The last two Indian skirmishes in the county were fought there, for instance.

 "But, really, the appeal comes from the fact the canyon is so different from anything else in the area," she said.  "I mean, the   mountains are so beautiful and they change with each season."

 Among those "mountains"- if they can truly be called that- is Blowout Mountain, which some people still argue is a dormant   volcano.  White says tests, however, confirm the peak has none of the rocks associated with such activity.

 The wind and other elements have simply played a trick, creating a sinkhole effect that prompted early settlers to conclude it was  a pint-sized Vesuvius.

 Egger says the new historical marker will not stand alone for long.  Taylor County Historical Association members plan to have   another marker raised alongside it, chronicling the history of Cornelia Fort, the first woman pilot killed on active duty during   World War II.

 The two markers will stand not far from where Fort's aircraft crashed.



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