DUANE
Duane's take
Now, this one comes straight off an official Texas Historical Commission marker out in Carson County — let me tell it to you the way it deserves to be told. Every spring and summer after 1880, the trail north called to Texas cattle like a standing invitation. Herd after herd rolled up out of the Panhandle, bound for the Northern states where the grass was thick and the fattening was good.
And for the cowboys making that push — well, don't let anyone tell you it was a pleasure ride. They had to turn stampedes in the dead of night, ford rivers and quicksand streams that would swallow a horse whole, and contend with Indians and cattle thieves every mile of the way. Hunger, thirst, and hardships the body doesn't soon forget — that was the trail.
But here's the story that sits above all the others. The Last Great Texas Panhandle Drive. And it was organized right here, at the N Bar N Headquarters — also written N-N, if you're keeping notes.
The ranch manager was a man named J.L. Harrison. The trail boss was T.L.
Coffee — Tom Coffee, to those who knew him. Now hold onto that number I'm about to give you, because it still turns heads. One hundred cowboys.
Ten herds. Each herd carrying twenty-five hundred cattle. You do that math and you come out with twenty-five thousand beeves moving north — from April all the way through to September of 1892.
That is not a drive. That is a migration. So who owned all those cattle?
The Niedringhaus Brothers — German tinsmiths out of St. Louis. They had made themselves a fortune in enamel granite household wares, and somewhere along the way they decided to put that fortune into ranching.
Tinsmiths turned cattlemen. It's Texas, friend. Stranger things have stuck.
Now the land those cattle grazed before the drive — that's its own story. From 1882 to 1886, the N Bar N had leased its range in Carson and the neighboring counties from the Francklyn Land and Cattle Company, a British syndicate backed, of all outfits, by the Cunard Steamship Line. Shipping magnates with their fingers in Panhandle grass.
After that arrangement ended, the range passed to the White Deer Land Company. And that right there is why the drive happened when it did. The White Deer Land Company wanted the range cleared of large herds.
The N Bar N outfit left because the land was no longer theirs to hold. By 1907, White Deer's six hundred and fifty thousand acres were being offered for sale — broken up and sold off to small ranchers and farmers. The land got fenced.
The steam plow came in and turned that rich, grassy sod that had carried twenty-five thousand cattle northward just fifteen years before. The Last Great Panhandle Drive wasn't just the biggest — it was the goodbye. The open range that made it possible was already being measured, divided, and sold behind it as it went.
What the marker says
Each spring and summer after 1880, many Texas herds went up the trail to Northern states for fattening. For the cowboys, trail drives meant hard work. They had to turn stampedes, ford rivers and quicksand streams, and fight Indians and cattle thieves. They endured hunger, thirst, and other physical hardships. The Last Great Texas Panhandle Drive was organized here at N Bar N (N-N) Headquarters. Ranch manager was J.L. Harrison; trail boss, T.L. (Tom) Coffee. 100 cowboys drove 10 herds, each with 2500 cattle, or a total of 25,000 beeves, to Montana from April to September 1892. The cattle belonged to Niedringhaus Brothers, German tinsmiths of St. Louis, who put into ranching a fortune made in enamel granite household wares. From 1882 to 1886, N Bar N leased range in Carson and neighboring counties from the Francklyn Land & Cattle Company, a British syndicate backed by Cunard Steamship Line. Afterward this range belonged to White Deer Land Company. The N Bar N outfit left here because White Deer Land Company wanted the range cleared of large herds. By 1907 the 650,000 acres of its land was offered for sale to small ranchers and farmers. It was fenced and the steam plow introduced to turn the rich, grassy sod.