Fayetteville Manuscripts

Report of Indian Affairs from Arkansas College

The following report was submitted to the federal agent to the Creek Nation by Robert Graham, president of Arkansas College to explain how funds allocated by the government had been used. More Creeks attended the college in the years that followed, including George Washington Grayson, who later served as principal chief of the Creek Nation. The letter was published in the "Annual Report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs" in 1855.

ARKANSAS COLLEGE, September 8, 1855.

DEAR SIR: Your favor of May 18th last, requesting me to furnish you a report of the progress of the Creek youths kept at this institution by funds appropriated to that purpose by the government of the United States, was duly received, and I proceed to comply with your request.

On the 22d of February, 1854, Richard Carr, Eli Danley, and Lyman Moore, all of the Creek nation, were matriculated as regular students of Arkansas College, in the English department thereof, and on the 19th March following David Yargee was in like manner received. We were very fortunate in securing a comfortable place for them to board. Columbus Jackson, esq., of this place, residing within a few hundred yards of the college, has afforded them comfortable quarters. He, with his Christian lady, has done all in his power to render these youths contented and happy, and we have every reason to believe that their efforts have not been unavailing. We are of opinion that in being thus situated in a private family their address, ease, and gracefulness in company, together with a knowledge of our habits and manners, would be improved, and thus one great end of their education be gained. For their board we pay $2 per week, including washing, fuel, and all necessary accommodations, except lights.

They are provided, on my order, with everything needed, such as clothing, books, stationery, &c., by Messrs. Stirman and Dickson, of this place. Nothing is procured by these young men but by my special directions, and thus habits of expense and dissoluteness are guarded against. I am happy to say that, up to this time, not the least disposition has been manifested, on their part, to indulge in habits of extravagance. All that can contribute to their comfort and respectability, in their appropriate sphere of life, shall be afforded them, but no more.

The estimate I made and sent you in a former communication, of $225 per session of ten months for each of them, is sufficient to defray their expenses while in this college.

Since they have entered, reading, writing, arithmetic, English grammar, with exercises in declamation and composition, have engaged their attention. Finding that before they could proceed with profit to the acquisition of a classical education they should be well instructed in the elements of our vernacular, and those rudiments too often neglected in our schools and colleges, we devoted very special attention to these preparatory studies. It is pleasing to state that in these their progress has merited all praise. At the annual examination, in July last, they received honors in some of these classes for their proficiency. I may only observe, as an instance of their progress, that while on their arrival here they could barely perform operations in the four ground rules of arithmetic, they are now competent to work questions in denominate numbers, and have mastered the rules and principles of vulgar fractions. During the summer vacation they have, except Mr. Yargee, remained here, and have recited one lesson daily to a professor in the college. This has subjected them to the small additional expense of $5 a piece for the instruction of two months. In concluding this topic I must be permitted to say that I have never seen young men manifest more industry, attention to the wishes of their instructors, and a determined resolution to excel.

Their conduct is unexceptionable in all their intercourse with their fellow students; they are agreeable, and have gained the universal good will of all their companions. To the professors they are respectful and obedient. Indeed, in the monthly reports made by the teachers to me, in a scale of seven for conduct, proficiency, and attention, these boys have ranged from five to seven; they have thus won the confidence and esteem of every one connected with this school.

While this college is under the control of no denomination of Christians, and altogether free from any sectarian influence, we are careful to instill [sic] into the minds and hearts of our pupils the great principles of the Bible, and to enforce the practice of Christian virtue by the motives and arguments addressed to us by heavenly inspired apostles and prophets. In the village are several churches, at any of which it is their privilege to attend. In June last, Mr. Danley was baptized and united himself to the Christian congregation in this place.

On Monday last the college opened for another session of ten months, all are here and have entered upon their respective duties. I would respectfully suggest that the sum of sixteen hundred dollars, appropriated for the education of these boys, is more than enough. For this sum we can maintain six or seven youths here, say six, and then have means to spare for any unforseen [sic] emergency, such as sickness, &c. If, therefore, it should meet the views of those who control this matter, we would be pleased to receive the two additional scholars, and to do all in our power for their advancement. There is not, probably, any place where more advantages and facilities for their comfort are combined and offered at a cost less than here.

I am pleased to say, in conclusion, that all these young men are in excellent health and lose no time from any indisposition.

I have the honor to be, respected sir, you obedient servant,

ROBERT GRAHAM
President Arkansas College.

Hon. W. H. Garrett,
United States Agent for Creeks.

John Rollin Ridge Goes West

This letter was written by John Rollin Ridge to his mother, Sarah Bird Northup Ridge, at Fayetteville after he crossed the frontier west on the way to the goldfields of California. He started with a large retinue of people from Fayetteville and the region, but the group split up at Fort Laramie and Deer Creek, Wyoming.

The letter was published as a serial in the Northwest Arkansas Times, March 11-14, 1973.

The editors of the newspaper noted that John Rollin Ridge never returned home from California, although Aeneas Ridge and Wacooli, a slave, did return to Fayetteville. As an additional note, this letter from Ridge does contain a racial slur. Ridge appears to have used the slur not in a general way but rather very specifically in reference to a particular class of slaves. His few remarks about Wacooli, on the other hand, demonstrate no similar disparagement.

Yuba City, Oct. 4, 1850

Dear Mother: — It is with pleasure that I sit down to relieve what I know must be your great anxiety to hear from your wandering children, torn as they are from you, and cast, as they so well can feel each morning that they rise, and each night that they lay down, on a strange and distant land. Believe me, it is no ordinary thing to come to California, as the thousands that sigh here in the midst of all its wealth can testify.

I am wasting golden hours I giving you what I intend shall be an accurate account of everything connected with us and our interests in this vagabond land. You have, I hope, received letters from me giving an account of our journey as far as Fort Laramie.

After we left Fort Laramie we traveled 150 miles. Then finding that the grass was growing thinner to perhaps none, at all, we concluded to abandon our wagon and pack. This conclusion as the events proved saved us the miserable alternative of walking over the Sierra Nevada with our packs upon our backs.

It was at Deer Creek, a tributary to the North Platte where we packed. From Deer Creek to the Salt Lake, we encountered the roughest road you can conceive, thinly provided with grass all the way; for 50 miles at a time no grass and no water. A large portion of the way was through sand and alkaline ground. Before reaching the Salt Lake a road turns to the right which is called “Sublette’s cut-off” saving some distance in travel. We should have taken this “cut-off” which avoids Salt Lake, but we were compelled to go by the Mormon City to get provisions — of which we were nearly out — although we had purchased frequently from those who, following our example in abandoning their wagons, were glad to sell a part of what they were forced to leave.

We resolved to pack very light because I saw plainly at an early day in our journey that it would be nearly as much as a horse or mule could do to carry his own body to California over such a road with such subsistence without adding a heavy load to his own weight. With this view, we threw away at one fell swoop, all our clothing except one pair of pantaloons, one pair of drawers, etc. with a change, reserving also our overcoats. We threw away all our meat except enough to last us as we thought to the Salt Lake which it did not. We threw away no flour at all, but had only enough at the start to last us to the Salt Lake, owing to the fact, I suppose, that we did not eat as much of the bacon as we should have done had we not been fonder of the flour. All our cooking utensils, save a coffee pot, mill and a frying pan we abandoned of necessity.

News of a City Charter

The Arkansian
Saturday, March 12, 1859
Volume 1, Issue 2
Page 2, Column 2

The Arkansian newspaper published this description of the Fayetteville after a new charter was approved for organization of the city government.

FAYETTEVILLE A CITY.

The town of Fayetteville is no more. No mighty tornado has swept over the spot on which it stood; no earthquake has crumbled it into ruin; no devastating fire has consumed it. — in fact, looking from our window at the present moment, many distinctive features of the “old town” are still apparent, and we find some difficulty in reconciling our last first sentence with our conscience. Still we must repeat, “the town of Fayetteville is no more.”

The General Assembly of the State of Arkansas has given to the price of realty, “with the appurtenances thereunto belong,” which erewhile was thus “known and designated” a new title! We find it difficult to realize the plan that we reside in a city! But such is, for the law so declares it, and we must begin to accustom ourselves to the new dignity. Already visions of future splendor and magnificence begin to crowd our fancies, when the clash and [unintelligible] of the Overland Coaches is heard in our streets, and the toot of the driver’s “tin horn” is borne to our ears from the distant environs, we fancy it to be the rush and whistle of the Locomotive, and we find ourselves involuntarily starting for the Depot.

On the first Saturday in April next, the election of Mayor, Aldermen and City Marshall will take place. That first election will have an immense influence in shaping the destiny of our new City. The officers then elected will have to make the first application of powers granted in our Charter, in the wants and necessities of our citizens. They will have to prepare a new set of Ordinances and put them in operation. It will require wisdom and foresight to enable them to pilot their new craft clear of rocks and quick-sands before they get a good “offing.” We trust that the voters of the “City” will all assemble on the day appointed, make wise and judicious selections, and then resolve, individually and collectively, to mantain [sic] and perpetuate the City Government, by cheerfully acquiescing in the rules and regulations made in accordance with the Charter, by those into whose hands they shall commit its delegated powers.

The General Assembly has given to us all we asked; and now if we fail to organize and maintain a good and efficient City Government, it will be the result of our own indifference or factiousness. It is true, we will necessarily have to operate on a small scale, the officers must content themselves with meagre salaries; the revenue will not be large; but if every citizen will do his duty, we can soon establish a good miniature City Government, and make Fayetteville truly a pleasant and agreeable place. It already has an enviable reputation: among western towns it scarcely has a rival. Its Colleges and Schools, its society, location, surrounding scenery, etc., all combine to make it attractive; still it might be much improved by good and wholesome Ordinances vigorously and impartially enforced. Let every citizen therefore, bear in mind the first election day, and go to the polls with his mind made up to choose good and reliable officers, into whose hands the interest and good order of our society may be safely committed.

Our dreams may yet be realised. Pollard’s and Hobbs’ daily lines, Butterfield’s ‘Celerity wagons’ may, in a very few years, be superceded by the Locomotive and its rushing train, and our embryo city become, ere the present generation shall have fretted out its brief term upon the stage of life, a place of consequence as the centre of a great agricultural district and an extensive inland commerce. There is enough in the great movements of the present, to inspire us with hope for the future, and the great shadows of coming events, admonish us to be ready for the rushing tide of progress that must and will sweep over all this western country in a very few years. Some of us may yet live to boast of our efforts to build up the “City of Fayetteville.”

The Butterfield Overland Mail

By Waterman L. Ormsby, only through passenger on the first westbound stage
Edited by Lyle H. Wright and Josephine M. Bynum
The Huntington Library, San Marino, California
Sixth Printing, 1968
Copyright 1942

The following was written by Waterman L. Ormsby during his journey from St. Louis, Missouri, to San Francisco, California, on the first westbound coach of the Butterfield Overland Mail Co. He was a reporter writing for the New York Herald and sending accounts by mail to the newspaper as he traveled. The excerpt covers the period when the stagecoach traveled through Arkansas. It arrived in Fayetteville on September 18, 1858.

 

[Page 18] We kept travelling all day and night, of course, our way during Friday afternoon and evening being through an extremely dusty, hilly, and stony road, as will appear when I state the fact that the first fourteen miles took two hours [to Ashmore’s]; the next twenty, three hours [to Smith’s]; the next fifteen, two hours and forty-five minutes [to Couch’s]; the next seventeen, three hours [to Harburn’s]; and the next eighteen, three hours and twenty minutes. This brought us to breakfast time on Saturday morning, at Callahan’s, but about twelve miles from Fayetteville, Arkansas, very near the border line. Here we found Mr. Crocker, the superintendent of the line between [Page 19] St. Louis and Memphis and Fort Smith, Arkansas, where the two mails converge and proceed together. We greased our wagon, changed horses, and got some breakfast — all in an incredibly short space of time — after which we set out for Fayetteville.

The route leads over those steep and rugged hills which surround the Ozark range in this section of Arkansas, and we were just three hours going from Callahan’s to Fayetteville. [Fitzgerald’s Station in between.] This town is located up among the hills, in a most inaccessible spot, in Franklin County [sic, Washington County], said by its inhabitants to be the star county of the state. It has two churches, the county court house, a number of fine stores and dwellings, and, I believe, about 1,800 inhabitants. It is a flourishing little town, and its deficiency of a good hotel will, I understand, be supplied by Mr. Butterfield, who has bought some property for that purpose. He is the most energetic president of a company I ever saw. He appears to know every foot of the ground and to beknown by everybody, while his son John has been very active in getting good stock on this end of the route, in which, I think, he has succeeded.

We made a small addition to our mail here, and at just ten minutes to twelve started for Fort Smith, on the border line between Arkansas and Indian Territory, and about sixty-five miles distant. We started at ten minutes to twelve on Saturday, when the time table only required us to start at a quarter past ten on Sunday — so we were at this point twenty-two hours and seventeen minutes ahead of time as set down in the time table by which the Post Office De- [Page 20] partment required us to run — this, too, in spite of the one or two little annoyances referred to, and a pretty heavy load of baggage and passengers which had not been expected. It could only have been accomplished by the most perfect arrangement for, and promptness in, the relays of horses and the excellence of the stock purchased. We had now gone two hundred and forty-three miles, through, I think, some of the roughest part of the country on the route, and yet gained time. I must confess that I began to get quite enthusiastic on the subject of the mail myself, and looked upon the mail bags and the horses with quite as much interest as I should have had in the Atlantic cable had I been on that world renowned expedition. I jumped out and got water for the horses, kept an eye on the mail bags, walked up the steep hills, and forgot the terrible pain in the back which such incessant riding without sleep occasioned.

We have now arrived at Colheet’s [Colbert’s] Ferry on the Red River, about eight miles below Preston, on the Texas border; we are just thirty-five hours ahead of the time table. An express is just leaving us for Fort Smith, and as I wish to send this I must cut off my letter without the most interesting portion — our reception at Fort Smith, meeting the Memphis mail, journey through the Indian Territory, and arrival here today at about ten o’clock. I must send this and take my chance to send the rest. I have one comfort, at any rate: the Herald will have the exclusive news, and I can wait with a better grace. We have the strongest hopes of reaching San Francisco in less than the twenty-five days. I find roughing it on the plains agrees with me, so that I guess I could go without eating or sleeping for a week.I hope I shan’t have to try it, though.

[Page 21]
New York Herald, Sunday, October 24, 1858
The Overland Mail
Our Special Overland Correspondence
Overland Mail Wagon, near Fort Belknap
Young Co., Texas, Sept. 22, 1858

The Route from Fayetteville to Fort Smith. Difficulties of the Ozark Range. Magnificence of the Mountain Scenery. The Choctaw Reservation. Condition of the Negroes among the Indian Slaveholders. A Visit to Governor Walker. Accidents of the Road. Dreams and Realities, &c, &c.

My last letter left the overland mail en route from Fayetteville, Arkansas, to Fort Smith, Arkansas. Since then we have passed through the Indian Territory, crossing the Red River at Colbert’s Ferry, through Grayson, Cooke, Montague, Wise, and Young counties, Texas, to Fort Belknap, and are now on our way to Fort Chadbourne, from whence I expect to send this; and when we reach there we shall have gone 945 miles on our journey.

Fayetteville is in Franklin County [sic,Washington County], Arkansas, among [Page 22] the hills of the Ozark range of mountains. We left there on Saturday, the 18th inst., at two minutes before noon — just twenty-two hours and thirteen minutes ahead of the time required of us by the time table. Even among these hills you do not lose sight of the prairie nature of the West; for just after leaving Fayetteville you see a fine plain, surrounded with hills — in fact, a prairie in the mountains. After a rather rough ride of fourteen miles, which we accomplished with our excellent team in one hour and three-quarters, we took a team of four mules [at Park’s Station] to cross the much dreaded Ozark range, including the Boston Mountain. I had thought before we reached this point that the roads of Missouri and Arkansas could not be equalled; but here Arkansas fairly beats itself.

I might say our road was steep, rugged, jagged, rough, and mountainous — and then wish for some more expressive words in the language. Had not Mr. Crocker provided a most extraordinary team I doubt whether we should have been able to cross in less than two days. The wiry, light, little animals tugged and pulled as if they would tear themselves to pieces, and our heavy wagon bounded along the crags as if it would be shaken in pieces every minute, and ourselves disembowelled on the spot. For fifteen miles the road winds among these mountains at a height of nearly two thousand feet above the Gulf of Mexico. The approach to it from Fayetteville is through a pleasant and fertile valley; and I understand that these valleys comprise some of the best agricultural districts of Arkansas. The mountains abound in splendid white oak timber. As the road winds along the ridges you are afforded most magnificent views of the surrounding hills and valleys [Page 23] — especially in the winter, when the foliage is less an obstruction than it was when we passed over. But we had a clear day, and I can only say that our mountain views in the Highlands of the Hudson are but children’s toys in comparison with these vast works of nature.
The term “Boston Mountains” is, I believe, derived from a prevailing western fashion of applying that name to anything which is considered very difficult. But Connecticut hills and roads are mere pimples and sandpaper compared with the Ozark ranges. By hard tugging we got up, and with the aid of brakes and drags we got down; and I can assure you we were by no means sorry when that herculean feat was accomplished. The mules which took us over the mountains carried us, in all, about nineteen miles, when we took another team of horses [Bailey reports this station as Brodie’s Station and records a Woolsey’s station between Brodie’s and Fort Smith] to carry us to Fort Smith.

We crossed the Arkansas, in a flatboat much resembling a raft, at Van Buren, a flourishing little town on its banks. [First known as Phillip’s Landing, it was named after Martin Van Buren, in 1836, and later became the county seat of Crawford County. See Centennial History, ed. Herndon, I, 884-85.] Our course through the soft bed of the flats (which were not covered, owing to the low state of the river) was somewhat hazardous, as our heavy load was liable to be sunk on the quicksands which abound here. But by the aid of a guide on horseback, with a lantern (for it was night), we crossed the flats, and up the steep sandy bank in safety. Picking our way cautiously for five or six miles, we reached Fort Smith on the Arkansas River, just on the border of Arkansas and the Indian Territory, at five min- [Page 24] utes after two o’clock A.M., having made the sixty-five miles from Fayetteville in fourteen hours and seven minutes, or three hours and seven minutes less than schedule time. We had anticipated beating the mail which left Memphis, Tenn., on the 16th to meet us at Fort Smith, several hours; but as soon as we entered the town, though at so unseasonable an hour, we found it in a great state of excitement on account of the arrival of the Memphis mail just fifteen minutes before us. But, though they had 700 miles to travel, five hundred of them were by steamboat, from Memphis to Little Rock, and it was said that they got their mails before we did.

Fort Smith is a thriving town of about 2,500 inhabitants, and they boast that every house is full. There are two newspapers, both of which were, I believe, started by Judge Wheeler, who was a passenger by the overland route from St. Louis. As several other routes over the plains pass through this place, and have contributed much to its growth, the people evinced much interest; and the news that both the St. Louis and Memphis stages had arrived spread like wildfire. Horns were blown, houses were lit up, and many flocked to the hotel to have a look at the wagons and talk over the exciting topic, and have a peep at the first mail bags. The general interest was so contagious that I, though I had but a few minutes to spare before the stage started again, actually employed the time in writing ten lines to my wife instead of the Herald. I [Page 25] must say, however, that I expected you would hear of the few facts I could then communicate, before a letter from me could reach you, by means of the telegraph.

An hour and twenty-five minutes was consumed in examining the way mails, arranging the way bill, joining the two mails from Memphis and St. Louis, and changing stages; and precisely at half-past three A.M. on Sunday, the 19th inst., the stage left Fort Smith, being exactly twenty-four hours ahead of the time required in the time table, which had been gained in the first four hundred and sixty-eight hours miles of our journey. I was the only person in the wagon which left Fort Smith — beside Mr. Fox, the mail agent, and the driver. Mr. John Butterfield, the president of the Overland Mail Company, had accompanied us thus far, and, thought sixty-five years of age [actually only 57], had borne the fatiguing, sleepless journey as well, if not better, than any of the rest. Indeed, I felt ashamed to complain when I saw one of his years stand out so well. Certainly, if the overland mail does not succeed, it will not be for lack of his arduous personal exertions. He urged the men in changing horses at every station, often taking hold to help, and on one occasion driving for a short distance. He is, however, an old stager, and is in his element in carrying on this enterprise. I cannot be too grateful to him, on your behalf, as well as my own, for the kind facilities which he extended to me.

We forded the Arkansas at Fort Smith, and for the first time since our departure from St. Louis I had an opportunity to sleep in the wagon, wrapped up in blankets and stretched on the seats. It took some time to get accustomed to the jolting over the rough road, the rocks, and [Page 26] log bridges; but three days’ steady riding without sleep helped me in getting used to it and I was quite oblivious from the time of crossing the Arkansas to first stopping place in the Indian Territory, about sixteen miles from the river, which we reached about daylight.