DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about Camp Melvin and the Pontoon Crossing of the Pecos River, out here in Crockett County. Now, the Pecos River has never been what you'd call easy company. Swift, unpredictable, prone to flooding without much warning — the kind of river that keeps you honest.
And if you wanted to cross it, well, you had to earn it. The story of this particular crossing goes all the way back to May of 1684, when Spanish explorer Juan Domínguez de Mendoza and his expedition team camped at a site south of here — private land now — where they found a place they could actually get across the river safely. They named it San Pantaleon.
That's a name with some dignity to it. It wouldn't hold, but it had dignity. Nearly a century and a half later, in 1840, a trader by the name of Dr.
Henry Connelly came through and used that same crossing. And over the years, the place started collecting names the way a dusty trail collects boot prints. Connelly's.
Fennelly. Camp Melvin. Camp Melbourne.
Ficklin. Pecos. Pecos Mail Station.
A place that goes by that many names has clearly seen some traffic. But by the 1860s, things shifted. The two main routes through the region had gone and bypassed this crossing entirely, favoring other fords that seemed to offer fewer headaches.
Seemed to. Because the northern route's Horsehead Crossing was drawing Comanche attacks. And the southern route near Fort Lancaster?
It couldn't manage a decent connection between Forts Concho and Stockton. Both alternatives had problems that a map couldn't warn you about. So in 1868, Captain F.
S. Dodge of Fort Stockton went looking for something better. And the crossing he chose — out of all the options on that wild, winding river — was the very same one that Domínguez de Mendoza had used back in 1684.
And that Connelly had used in 1840. Some places just keep getting rediscovered. Now here's where the story gets genuinely interesting, because the Pecos presented a real engineering puzzle.
The river's width varied — and varied greatly — so you couldn't just throw down a fixed bridge and call it good. The Army, working in partnership with stage line operator Ben Ficklin, came up with a floating pontoon bridge built near here. The landings on either bank could actually be moved closer together or farther apart to match whatever the river was doing that week.
That's not a small idea. That's practical ingenuity under pressure. To protect the travelers using that crossing, the Army established Camp Melvin nearby — sometimes written Melbourne, sometimes Milvin, the spelling apparently being a matter of personal preference.
A mail station also operated in the vicinity, keeping the place lively with purpose. But by 1920, only parts of the pontoon bridge and the nearby buildings remained. Increased settlement, improved transportation — the world moved on and moved around this place, the way it tends to do.
The pontoon crossing and Camp Melvin slipped from necessity into history. Out here in Crockett County, that river is still winding. Still swift.
Still not easy company. And somewhere in these miles, the echo of a crossing that got reinvented across centuries is right beneath the surface — if you know to listen for it.
What the marker says
As it winds its way across Texas, the Pecos River can often be swift and dangerous. Historically, frequent flooding made even the best crossings unusable. In May 1684, Spanish explorer Juan Domínguez de Mendoza and his expeditino team camped at a site south of here, now on private land, where they could safely cross the river. They named the location San Pantaleon. In 1840, trader Dr. Henry Connelly used the same crossing, and over the years it came to be known by various names, including Connelly's, as well as Fennelly, Camp Melvin, Camp Melbourne, Ficklin, Pecos and Pecos Mail Station. By the 1860s, the two main routes through the region bypassed the crossing here, as other fords presented fewer obstacles or appeared more secure. The northern route's Horsehead Crossing, however, was a target for Comanche attacks, and the southern route near Fort Lancaster failed to provide a convenient connection between Forts Concho and Stockton. As a result, Capt. F.S. Dodge of Fort Stockton sought a new crossing in 1868, and he chose the one previously used by Domínguez and Connelly. Designing a means to allow travelers a safe and reliable crossing of the Pecos was difficult, as the river's width often varied greatly. In partnership with stage line operator Ben Ficklin, the U.S. Army built a floating pontoon bridge near here. Landings on either bank could be moved closer or farther apart to accommodate changes in stream width. To protect travelers, the Army established Camp Melvin (Melbourne, Milvin) nearby, and a mail station also operated in the vicinity. By 1920, however, only parts of the pontoon bridge and nearby buildings remained. Increased settlement and improved transportation relegated the pontoon crossing and Camp Melvin to history. (2006)