GATHERING CATTLE IN THE SHIVE COUNTRY

One time he and his brother Hal and his brother John Mark, and Bill Carter, and the Negroes were gathering cattle out near Shive for Spurlin at twelve dollars and eleven dollars and one dollar for handling. He usually had company at noon at the cowcamp and didn’t have time to make biscuits and the Ragsdales who lived nearby would furnish a bushel of biscuits every day. One of the Negroes with them was named Will, brought by Hall from Milam County. When they gathered cattle in the brush down by the river, this Negro would protect his legs with a sweat strap, didn’t have any leggins.

Speaking of cooking, Jim Freeman (see supra about him) was an excellent camp cook. Was especially good with red beans.

(The Ragsdales above mentioned were a fine and interesting family, and I knew them well. The oldest daughter, Maud, later Mrs. Jim Roddy, was one of my favorite aunts and story tellers, mostly about the old days out there. The old home is still standing, looks like it did when I first remember it, with the veranda in front, the lattice work, and the cook shack, as in the old South, behind the residence. Must have been before the turn of the century [1900] when I ate dinner there, and remember the girls bringing steaming pies out of the cook house. Must have eaten too much. Old Uncle Ed was a find character, a good man, and hard worker on his farm. He and his brother, John, a bachelor and cow man, as was my grandfather, Joe B. Roddy, were in the Confederate Cavalry.)

(The Ragsdales, as well as the McKinleys, another interesting and splendid family, came originally from Colorado County. The Ragsdales were related to Bob and John Stafford, who were killed at the same time in a feud down there. The old two-story home of the first still stands on the courthouse square at Columbus, and down the street there is a plaque on the old opera house donated by Bob Stafford, now a mercantile building. In the old days opera groups coming through on the Southern Pacific would stop by for a showing.

(I never did know Mr. John Ragsdale. He had a Negro named John who was very popular with the cowboys. Uncle Sid M. Ross told me John showed him how to plait a lasso. He was suspected of rustling, and Mr. Ragsdale had to let him go. For many years, he had a job hustling cowhide luggage at the old Cotton Belt depot in Waco, from rustling cows. It is said Ragsdale traded a yearling or a pony for John. Aunt Maud told me if her Uncle John came back from Hamilton, and had a bag of candy for the children, he would throw it up against the ceiling, scattering it, to see the children grabbing for it. When the old man was on his death bed, his mind off balance, he called for my grandfather to come in. Mr. Ragsdale asked him to lock the door, which mu grandfather didn’t much like. He said, "No Joe, I am going to die. When they get to reading my record up there , they won’t find anything wrong till they get to the ‘stray list. "Now do you think if I offered them the ‘pick of my herd’ it will be all right." My grandfather assured him it would, and he seemed relieved.

(Mr. John Ragsdale was in the Confederate Cavalry with one Pinkney Woodlief, a cousin of mine whom I never knew, first cousin to my mother and he must have made a lot of her when she was a small girl. After the war he became a professional gambler. Have a picture of him taken in Austin, where he was an associate of Ben Thompson and others, standing with his fist on a center table, wearing a Prince Albert coat, with a neat beard really a fine looking man.)

(In the late days of the Civil War when food was scarce in the Southern Army, he would always use his winnings to supplement the company mess, and that and his jovial character made him popular with his comrades. One time in a scrimish he was captured by the Yankees. After he had won most of their money, he hopped over the wall giving him known as the "... ... sign" and escaped. With this hard coin, instead of the badly depreciated Confederate currency, they ate better for a time. He was later killed in a misunderstanding with the police in Shreveport. My father once told me that he had always found gamblers "pretty square shooters."

(The Confederate incident was told me by my Uncle Tom Roddy, said old man John Ragsdale told it. Uncle Tom in later years would come from west Texas and spend the night with us. Looked like old man Texas, sitting alongside the table, Stetson pulled down to his eyes, rolling Prince Albert cigarettes, regaling us half the night with stories of old days in Hamilton County, in his homespun style of talking. He was interested in selling a tract of land in which we had an interest out west of Shive, the old Tankersley place. Uncle Tom had once owned it. He gave us short answers when he went out to look it over, said our price was all right, if anybody the place that bad. I pointed out the tall grass, and said that looks like good grass to me. He said, All I know about it is that Old Man John Ragsdale used to say his cows would live longer if they didn’t eat it!" Leaving, he said, "Guess I ought to have kept the place.")

(Old Man Tankersley must have been a good man. Once my mother went of a Sunday to call on them. He said to his wife, "Lucy, recruit the fire. We have company." Dr. Jack Koen told me the story about the time his father, who then lived nearby was cleaning out a spring.  Mr. Tankersley came by horseback, got down - it was very hot- and said, "Ab, got some water!"  He got down and took a drink and said, "Ab, it’s all right, but tastes a little of the ‘kearbin’."

Uncle Jim Roddy was telling me this story: one time the boys at Shive got mad at the justice of the peace. They put up Old Man Tankersley for the office and backed him. Elected they had a night celebration, shooting anvils, and called on the old man for a speech. He rose and said, "My friends, usually the man seeks the office. This time the office sook the man.

(Shive would have been named for my grandfather, who donated part of the land off his section in the west, but he insisted it be named for Mr. Shive, the old teacher and Presbyterian minister, from Mississippi. Incidentally, he was the first teacher of Lena’s father, Mr. John D. West, in that state . The expression "Behind Shive" used to be common meant west of that village.  Let Mr. Williams resume his stories.)

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~