Counting blessings
The Christmas Tally
From our camp to yours
By Stephen L. Wilmeth
Blessings
for us have come in five packages.
Their names
are Mayci, Raegan, Emma, Indie, and Aden.
They are Wilmeth grandchildren who all visibly carry their Noni’s genes. They
are all blue eyed.
On
Thanksgiving, we gathered in Mesilla to celebrate. The celebration was coupled
with an hour spent taking pictures for Christmas cards. We pulled the carriage
out and “harnessed” the kids to it. All of them have become so proficient in
posing the task was easy. We selected a couple of pictures, and, there we are …
two aging grandparents and, of course, our beautiful, blued eyed grandchildren.
Along with
their parents, they will return to celebrate Our Savior’s birth, gathered in
our home with the fire burning, and the trees lit. I will wince at the excess,
but I will be overruled.
“It’s
special,” will be the stern remark.
1904
As a
special Christmas gift for 1904, Tom Shelley’s wife, Hattie, wrote to family
members asking them to send letters addressed to her mother and father-in-law,
Emily Jane and Peter Shelley. From across Texas
and New Mexico,
Hattie received the hand written messages and put them in a little heart book.
On the inside page, she wrote:
December
25, 1904
To Our Mother and Father
from Tom and Hattie
Wishing you a Merry Christmas
and a Happy New Year
Many of the
feminine responses were couched in poetry. The stylized verse was strongly
indicative of the times. Emily Jane’s sister and niece from Mayhill each wrote
brief poems.
Dear Brother and Sister, My Dear Uncle
and Aunt,
Many a mile apart The
golden sun is setting
Our homes have proved to be Across the barren plain
But in the recess of your hearts When you read these lines my
dear ones
Keep one kind thought for me. May you think of me again.
Your
loving sister, Your
loving niece,
Nannie Joy
Ella Joy
From Elk, New Mexico, Edna Dockray
continued the verse with:
You may break and scatter
The rock if you will
But the Scent of the Rose
hang
around it still.
Final excerpts
from Wilson Parmer’s letter suggested the trials and tribulations of a life of
hard work and the difficulty of frontier existence.
“ … During this period
of nearing a half a centre (sp) of life we have its gloom and its trubles (sp)
and yet we are un able to penitrate (sp) what may lye (sp) before you. Yet
while our harts (sp) may continue their work and lives be that of the best
record lef (sp) behind,” he wrote.
An ending
quote from the stack of Christmas messages sent for the Christmas gift request summed up the miles of distance and
the directions that life took them all … When
this you see remember me … tho many a mile apart we be.
I’ve heard
no verbal account of what took place when Peter and Emily Jane were presented
with the little heart book, but I would suspect the treasure of all those
heartfelt notes prompted excitement.
I can
imagine, though, what it would have been like when they all sat down to eat the
Christmas meal. The warmth of the house would have come from heat from a wood
fire (both cooking and heating). The food would have been prepared exclusively
from their hands, and what gifts there were would have been meager.
The letters
from family would have been a lingering highlight, but … the joy of watching
their gathered children and grandchildren would have been the most special gift
of all.
The tally
In the
Shelley book, the reference to that 1904 Christmas was immediately preceded by
pages of shipping records. For years, I skimmed through those pages
categorizing them as business records from the Cliff Mercantile of which Peter
was the owner. There was little initial interest. When studied, though, the
emergence of a broader history was revealed. Through the Mercantile, Peter
bought and sold cattle for the greater community. The records showed those
transactions in detail. Inspection fees were set forth as were commission fees
(commission ran from 1.1 to 1.25%). If the seller had received any advance, an
entry entitled “forfeit” was calculated and the final check was reduced accordingly.
A record of brands was also added. Familiar
brands come to life on those pages. The 916s, the LCs, the PIT, the HWs, the 7V
bar, the 303, the Cross Triangle, the quarter circle XLs, the Flying Y and on
and on the history is revealed.
The Mercantile tally book reflected
the fortunes of the community. Prior to 1921, the records were entered by hand.
Thereafter, they were typed showing spring and fall shipping summaries.
Individual names appear and then
disappear only to reappear. John and Will Henry, Ben Avery, Ely Clark, Fayette
and Blue Rice, Tom and Will Shelley, Sallie Woodrow, Maggie Franks, Sloan
Hightower, Sid George, Henry Woodrow, Joe Hooker, Pitts and Porter, Fleming Cattle
Company, Homer Reese, Hugh McKeen, and the names continued. The Doyles, the
Eakins, the Turmans, the Aults, the Fosters, the Turners, the Averys, the
Wallaces, the Cloudts, and the Dinwiddies appeared as a fascinating reminder of
the history of upper Gila River families unfolded.
Absent names suggest that not everybody
sold cattle through the Mercantile, but chances are better than even they
bought groceries there. The alternatives were slim.
In the spring of 1923, the prices
for weaner steers ran $17, $22.75 for long yearlings, and $28.50 for two year
olds. Mature, three year old cattle brought $33.50. Nothing was offered nor was
any transaction recorded for pairs, heifers, cows, or bulls.
Those records were supremely
important. They represented the summary of yearly income for those frontier families
who existed solely by their own wits. What wasn’t noted, but existed in every
home in that community was a similar tally book that each rancher kept. Many
were leather bound, and, if they still exist, they have become heirlooms.
Christmas Tallies
I have two tally books. Both are leather
bound. One was a Christmas gift. The other I made. The one I use regularly keeps
my diary. At the end of each year, that diary comes out to be stored while a
new one is inserted.
Earlier this year, I made one for
my dad for Father’s Day. Another was presented to David Wilson for the gift he
gave me in the form of a treasured Trost book. As a result, the gift of a rancher’s tally book has become a
calling card of sorts.
It is in the spirit of the practice
founded in the last quarter of the 19th Century by their great-great-great-great
grandfather, Peter Shelley, my grandkids will each get their own “Christmas
tally”. It will likely mean little in the current competition with toy stock
trailers, electronic gadgetry, or the latest fashions, but maybe that will
change with time.
It is no secret I fret for the next
generation steward of this range. The odds against young ranchers of the future
will only increase. Costs of entry are unmanageable based on cattle returns,
and, as federal lands ranchers, the scope of any long term planning is limited
or nonexistent. The special managers that emerge and survive will necessarily have
to be better than any of their predecessors.
They must adapt and change. They
must strive for parallel enterprises to enhance their security, and they must
deal with a juggernaut of negative societal assaults.
There is also hope that customs and
culture are honored and perpetuated. Horse tracks as opposed to ATV tracks,
cattle that fit individual ranges, rest and rotation, abundant drought water
supplies, infrastructure investments, homes on the ranches, and the constant
shadow cast on that land by that “manager too poor to pay for his sport” should
be the goals.
There are few examples as simple or
propitious to the success of ranching heritage as the tally book. It was
protected. It was held close to the vest. It was seldom visible, but it was all
important. Perhaps one of the five I present on Christmas day will take hold
and grow a rancher.
Indeed … a true gift would be
realized.
Stephen
L. Wilmeth is a rancher from southern New
Mexico. “Merry Christmas … May the simplicity of a 1904
Christmas remind us of the most important things.”
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