DUANE
Duane's take
Here's what the official marker has to say about something Texas nearly forgot it ever had. Now, if you drove through Uvalde back in the pioneer days and you needed a place to rest your bones, water your team, and maybe find out who was feuding with whom three counties over — you didn't look for a hotel. You looked for a wagon yard.
And let me tell you, once you understand what a wagon yard actually was, you start to wonder how we ever got along without them. Picture an open area — could cover a whole city block — flanked by sheds, stalls, and feed rooms. A driver would pull his wagon in, see to his team, find himself some cooking space, maybe a spot to lay down his bedroll.
For folks coming in from the country, this place was both a hotel and a social center all rolled into one. And the price? Anywhere from twenty-five cents to a dollar a day.
Some yards, you didn't even pay that much — but we'll get to that. Now think about who you'd find in one of these yards on any given day. Men and families who'd been on the road for who knows how long.
Some of them waiting on kin to arrive by train or stage. Some waiting on goods. Some just waiting, the way people in Texas have always been pretty good at waiting when the land demands it.
They'd cook up bacon, eggs, beans, and coffee. They'd swap gossip and advice — on travel, on work, on weather. They'd play music, fiddle and guitar and harmonica floating up over the wagon wheels and the hay smell and the dust.
And the young boys — this is the part that gets me — young boys would come in bashful as a new colt, and they'd leave knowing how to dance, how to roller skate, and apparently how to whip a bully if the situation called for it. A wagon yard had a way of finishing a boy's education that no schoolhouse could quite manage. You wanted to trade horses?
The wagon yard was your market. You needed to know whether the road west was passable or whether somebody had better advice? The wagon yard had a man with an opinion, guaranteed.
Some of these yards doubled as stops for stages and freighters, which meant the information flowing through on any given afternoon was considerable. Now, a block west of where this marker stands, there was a wagon yard belonging to the F. A.
Piper Company — predecessor to what would become Horner's Store. And here's where the story turns a little generous: Piper built and ran that wagon yard to help his customers. And like a number of Texas merchants who did the same thing, he let those customers use it free of charge.
Not twenty-five cents. Not a dollar. Free.
The yard was a service, a kindness built into the business itself. Modern transportation, as the marker puts it plainly, has made the wagon yard a relic of the past. The stages are gone, the freighters have moved on, and the city block that once smelled of horses and coffee and somebody's fiddle tune is given over to other purposes now.
But there's something that doesn't quite leave you about the image of it — all those travelers pulling in tired, finding a fire, finding music, finding a stranger who turned into a friend before morning. The wagon yard has a secure place in the history of pioneer days in Texas, and after hearing all that, you'd have to say it earned it.
What the marker says
Places of shelter for drivers, teams and wagons. Here travelers could cook bacon, eggs, beans, coffee; talk with friends and strangers. For people from the country, a wagon yard was both a hotel and a social center. Unusually it was an open area flanked by a shed, stalls and feed rooms. It might cover a city block, and charges were 25 (cents) to $1.00 a day. Drivers pulled into yards, cared for teams, found cooking and sleeping space. Men or families might stay for weeks, await kin or goods coming by train or stage. Amusements were practical jokes, gossip, games, music by fiddle, guitar, harmonica. Young boys overcame bashfulness, learned to dance, roller skate, whip bullies. The yard was center for trading goods and horses; obtaining advice on travel, work, weather. Some yards were stops for stages and freighters. A block west of this site was wagon yard of F. A. Piper Company (predecessor of Horner's Store). Like many Texas merchants, Piper built and ran the wagon yard to aid customers, who used it free of charge. Modern transportation has made the wagon yard a relic of the past, but it has a secure place in the history of pioneer days in Texas.