Early Days in Fort Worth, Much of Which I saw and Part of Which I Was

by B. B. Paddock

There was lots of fun in those days. No one had much to do but to enjoy life and boost Fort Worth. They did both to the extreme limit. A man could and did wear the same suit of clothes year after year and no one commented on his frugality or poverty. Women wore the same dresses to church, Sunday after Sunday, and no one was found to criticise. The girls, and there were pretty girls then as now, not so plentiful, only because there were not so many girls, wore the same dresses (that was before they commenced wearing “gowns” in the daytime) to all society gatherings without apology or explanation.

They did not find it necessary to cut their dresses for high water or low in the neck in order to display their physical charms. There were dances in the court room, in a hall over a livery stable and at private residences, occasionally. They danced the cotillion, lancers, Virginia reel. The tango, bunny hug, turkey trot and other fancy stunts were unknown.

There were picnics on the Clear Fork in the daytime and by moonlight, when the moon was in commission. Everybody was happy and tried to make his neighbor happy. Good old days.

The practical joker had plenty of time in which to indulge in his fun. One of the best of these was on General Peers, who kept the Commercial Hotel, at the corner of Fifth and Commerce streets. As usual, every one was on the qui vive for railroad news. One day John S. Hirshfield had a spurious telegram delivered to the General, purporting to be from the private secretary of Jay Gould, the then president of the Texas & Pacific, announcing that Mr. Gould and a party of capitalists would arrive on the stage that afternoon and asking that provision be made for their entertainment. It was signed by “Tom Collins,” at that day the cognomen for all imaginary and fictitious persons. But the General did not know this and proceeded to buy up all the turkeys in the market and all the other delicacies to be had. He was instigated to invite about fifty of the more prominent citizens to dine with Mr. Gould. The plan was for each of the invited guests to pay for his dinner so that the hotel would suffer no loss. Along in the afternoon, Charles Fallbush, who traveled for the wholesale liquor house of Day & Co. came in from a western trip, dusty and travel stained and was introduced to General Peers, as Tom Collins, the Secretary of Mr. Gould. Fallbush explained that he had driven over from Dallas ahead of the party to see that all arrangements were made for the entertainment of his chief. The scheme was working beautifully until “Tuck” Boaz, not being advised that the invited guests were to pay for the dinner and not wishing the General to suffer such a loss gave the game away.

The “tender-foot” was an easy mark for the practical joker and many of the “tales that were told” about the condition of affairs in Texas were the result of the jests played on men unused to the customs of Texas. On one occasion a man by the name of Robinson, who traveled for the Hall Safe and Lock Co., badgered his friends about being afraid of Indians. At that time there was not an Indian in Texas, but, of course, he did not know that. He was persuaded by some of the traveling men who then made the western territory to accompany him on a trip out west. The man consented and went as far as Comanche. They laid over there on Sunday and the stranger was regaled all the day with stories of the hair-breadth escapes that members of the party at the hotel had made in the recent past. The “tender-foot” was not afraid of Indians. About the middle of the afternoon the party dissolved, one at a time until only the stranger and the drummer he was with were left in the hotel. Then a suggestion was made that they two take a walk up the banks of Indian Creek, which runs by the town. He was glad to go. Was not afraid of Indians. Oh no. About half a mile from town those who had gone ahead suddenly rushed out of the mesquite firing their pistols and yelling like mad. The stranger was told to run for his life—and he did. His companion soon fell to the ground calling on him to run. He ran into town and under the hotel. The Democrat published a column or two about the event and sold Robinson one hundred and fifty copies at ten cents per. He mailed them to every one of his acquaintance east of the Mississippi and was a hero, until the next issue told the truth about the event. He did not order any extra copies of that issue.

These are sample bricks of what was going on most of the time, and will suffice to indicate that life was not a burden to those who were waiting for something to turn up, and who knew how to enjoy their enforced idleness.

STEALING AN EXCURSION.

One of the most amusing incidents of the time occurred in the Spring of 1875. A man by the name of George W. Cole from somewhere up in Pennsylvania had plotted a townsite out in Palo Pinto County which he called Lamar. He alleged in his advertisements that it would be a division point on the Texas & Pacific. He sold a good many lots to the “sucker” element that is always ready to grab at any thing that sounds cheap. He went over to Tennessee and worked up an excursion to come and see Texas. It was farthest from his thought to show them Lamar. He only intended to let them see what a good country Texas was. Hearing about the excursion, the Democrat got out an extra edition, telling about Tarrant county in general and Fort Worth in particular. The editor took a bundle of the papers and went to Texarkana to meet the excursion train. It took breakfast at that place and while the excursionists were enjoying their mututinal meal, the papers were distributed in every seat in the train. After they had time to look the paper over, the editor went through the train and made their acquaintance. He so ingratiated himself with them that by the time the train reached Dallas, they were nearly all ready to come on to Fort Worth, to which place he promised them free transportation. That night he preempted every seat in the stage coaches and engaged hacks for the rest of the party. They spent the night at the Crutchfield Hotel and in the morning were to have had a reception by the business men. General W. L. Cabell was the mayor of the town. When the hour for the reception arrived there was no one to receive. They had gone to Fort Worth, where they had a royal good time. Later some of them settled in Tarrant County. Mayor Cabell said he had heard of thefts of every kind but that it was the first time he ever heard of any one stealing an excursion.

NEITHER COMPLETE NOR INFALLIBLE.

There is no pretense that these pages are a complete history of the early days of the city. There are many things, and some of them of importance and interest that have not been mentioned. Many persons of note who have contributed to the growth of the city are not enumerated herein. This is because the memory is faulty and not with a wish to withhold credit from any. Such as it is, it will serve to refresh the memory of some and be of interest to others who are not familiar with the struggles through which Fort Worth went and from which it emerged with success.