Contrasting with today [1919] the conditions that existed 42 years ago when he called together the first convention of the Cattle Raisers Association of Texas, Col. John N. Simpson has made a ride down the dim trails of memory, relating to a representative of The Cattleman some of the reasons for organizing the association in that period when chaos ruled the ranges, when life and property were cheap and a man could say he owned no more cattle than he could protect with his rifle.

Sitting in his office, located in the bowels of a Dallas skyscraper in the American Exchange National Bank, of which he is a vice president, with its elegant furniture and a carpet on the floor as thick and springy as the grass over which he drove cattle nearly a half century ago, Col. Simpson himself, and his surroundings, presented one of the sharpest contrasts between that day in February 1877, when a little band of cattlemen met in the pioneer village of Graham.

Not that the Colonel has changed—he is still the unassuming, hail-fellow-well-met type of the early days—but through the window could be seen law and order of today, represented by the brass buttons of a policeman strolling down the street. And across the way loomed the palatial Adolphus Hotel, which will be the convention headquarters for the association, dwarfing the memory of the small, unpainted frame hotel and the wagon yards of Graham which housed the first convention.

"Until the early ’70s," Col. Simpson began, "there were no settlements in Texas west of Weatherford and but few cattle in the extreme western part of the state. The main cattle raising district was to a great extent that where the oil development is so great today and ranging eastward.

"But in ’75 and ’76 many large herds of South Texas were driven into the extreme western part of the state. There were no natural barriers, and of course no wire fences in those days to keep the cattle from drifting with storms. It was a common thing for cattle from ranches on the Red River to drift and scatter all the way to the Colorado and Concho Rivers, mixing and mingling with all the herds in between.

"I was located with 4,000 or 5,000 head on a ranch right where Abilene now stands. My nearest neighbor was 40 miles east. I was just in the driftway of the main body of cattle when they drifted from north of the Brazos to south of the Colorado. So, perhaps as much or more than any other man, I was in a position to recognize the need for concerted action among the cattlemen in gathering and getting cattle back to their ranches.

"In the early spring of ’77, I rode horseback to old Fort Griffin, about 15 miles north of where the town of Albany now is located, and talked the matter over with Col. Joe B. Matthews and Squire J. C. Lynch. They thought well of my suggestion, but were apprehensive as to our ability to perfect an organization that would be of practical benefit, inasmuch as for some time they had been trying to get the cattlemen to band together. They would organize and perfect plans and then fail to carry them out, they said. However, they were willing to assist in getting the organization under way.

"After the conference, I went back to may home, then in Weatherford, and wrote a notice calling the cattlemen of North Texas to meet at Graham, then the most central point where there were accommodations—and there were few enough there—telling them why I thought an organization was needed. To the call for the meeting I signed the names of some eight or 10 prominent cattlemen, in addition to my own, without consulting any of them but Matthews and Lynch, as mentioned before.

"The call was responded to by more than I had hoped for, there being above 100 men coming from the Red, Brazos, Colorado and Concho River districts, and in fact from all parts of North Texas. I served as chairman and we organized with Col. Kit Carter as president, and he served some 10 or 12 years; J.C. Loving as secretary, he serving as such until his death some 20 years later; and Burk Burnett, Dan Gardner, Matthews and Lynch and many others were there, but I can’t recall the rest just now.

Under this plan all knew when roundups in a certain district would begin and they could be there and get their stock. The plan worked well, and while there were many failures and disappointments due to the scarcity of population and the long distances between ranches, yet in the main it was a success.

"Then we met the second year, also at Graham, I believe, and having had some experience from the preceding year, naturally we improved our methods. After several years we included in the association the protective and detective features, which, by the employment of detectives and inspectors, meant the waging of a vigorous war against cattle thieves and rustlers.

That vast and unknown country west of Callahan, Coleman and Shackelford counties, inhabited formerly only by Indians and buffalo, became the rendezvous for cattle and horse thieves, who were mainly bad men, usually criminals hiding out from other states. While such game as deer, antelope and buffalo was plentiful, there were few depredations upon cattle. And cattle were worth only from $6 to $10 about that time. But game became scarce, and these bad men soon turned to cattle stealing, burning out brands, changing marks and driving off stock.

"With the organization and growth of the association, now the strongest cattle raisers’ organization in the world, can be traced the increase in value of the West. For in the early days of this wild and unsettled country, cattle had little value, and none as collateral upon which to borrow money. Now that the march of railroad development has made the old trails but a memory, it is a pleasure to look back and see where some of the outstanding principles of the association had their beginning.

"Bringing the stockmen from hundreds of miles together at least once a year at those early conventions, friendships and neighborhoods were formed, and chief of all, the principle of reciprocity, the principle of ‘protect my neighbor's stock as I expect him to protect mine,’ was established.

"If a fellow came on horseback, he usually carried tied on behind his saddle a roll of bedding. Graham had only a five-room hotel or so. Many of us had to bunk in stores, in wagon yards or out in the open. But the hospitality of Texas housewives maintained then just as it does today. If our bedding proved too thin, in case a norther came up, they would lend us additional blankets. As a rule, we also brought along some chuck. There were no banquets at first, but we would sit on a counter in the ‘general store’ and eat crackers and cheese and sardines, when the grub we brought from home had played out.

"But we had fine times in those good old days," and Col. Simpson smiled wistfully. "Yes, those were fine times. And there were some mighty fine men at the first conventions, most of whom have gone over the Great Divide. Burk Burnett and Dan Gardner are left, and a few, just a few, others. I’m not sure but what I had a better time in the early days than I do now, but it may be because things always look better across a fence that you can’t let down and ride over."

Col. Simpson has maintained a continual and intimate interest in the cattle business ever since that early day, he having considerable ranch properties near San Angelo, and having missed very few conventions of the association. During the serious and long-continued drought, he was made and still is serving as chairman of the Bankers’ Drought Relief executive committee, which has placed substantial funds in West Texas banks, enabling them to make loans to cattlemen that otherwise would not have been possible.