Roundup, Frederic Remington, Century Magazine, 1888.
From the above and from the other photos of roundups, it is not difficult to understand
the derivation of the word "roundup."
Roping and Cutting Out, near Cheyenne, 1888, Photo by C. D. Kirkland.
The end of the roundup was marked by the "cutting out" of the different brands; that is, in a roundup all cattle in an area were gathered regardless of brand. At the end when all cattle were "rounded up," experienced cowboys would then separate the beeves by brand. As explained by Joseph G. McCoy in his 1874 Historic Sketches of the Cattle Trade of the West and Southwest:
To accomplish the greatest amount of labor with the least effort and the
least amount of hard riding, two cow-boys work together. When a beef is
selected to be "cut out," he is adroitly and quietly maneuvered to the
outskirts of the round-up, and when the opportune moment occurs, the
cow-boys dash at him, and, before he is aware of it, is on the outside of,
and separated from the herd; but no sooner does he discover the situation,
than he makes a desperate effort to regain his comrades, and just here is
where the skill of the cow-boy is put in requisition. Whilst one rides
beside the steer, the other rides just behind him, to prevent or check any
sudden change of direction that the frantically excited bovine may chose to
make in his efforts to get back with the herd, which he tries desperately to
do, and persists in trying so long as there is a shadow of a chance to
outrun his pursuers.
Cutting Out, Frederic Remington, Century Magazine, 1888.
The cowpony was important in the process of cutting out. Jacob Bennett (1858-1943), who became a cowboy
at age 14, explained:
We were furnished hosses that, in lots of cases, knowed more about cow work
that some of the fellows in the saddle. That sounds sort of stretched, but
all we had to do was to show a cutting hoss a certain critter we wanted cut
out of the herd, and that hoss would get after that critter like it was
some sort of a game and stay with the critter till the hoss run it plum out
of the herd. The way we showed the hoss what we wanted was by hitting it
with a rope, our lasso.
"Not only cut the critter out of the herd, but when you make your cast
with your lasso, that hoss knowed just the right second when to sit down
to keep the critter from dragging the hoss, and, if the hoss sat down too
soon, there'd be so much slack in the rope the critter'd have leverage to
pull with. Then, if the hoss sat down a little late, it'd be just in the
[illegible] of going down and'd have the least resistance it'd have at any time.
You see, that's the reason the cowpunchers loved their hosses so much when
the had one that was a good one. When he had a good hoss, his work was so
much easier that it just made all the difference in the world.
Once the animal was separated, it was guided to another herd several hundred yards away consisting only of that brand.
Branding on the Plains, near Cheyenne, 1888, photo by C. D. Kirkland
And just as many a cowboy's body was left along the trail, death also came to the
roundup. Bennett recalled:
About a month after I was hired on the TC, they started the Spring roundup.
About a month later, all the ranchers'd rounded up all the cattle on that
range and had them on the holding grounds, when the freakiest accident ever
I saw happened. During any roundup, all the men work at top speed to get
the cattle all cut out and the work over before something happens to
stampede the herd, and separate it all out again. You see, all the ranchers
round up every head on the range; then, when they get all the cattle
together, they cut out what belongs to each other, then they can do what
they please with their own cattle.
"Well, during the cutting out, a big old steer quit the herd and went to
running off. Two cowpunchers who happened to be off a ways from the steer,
and in different directions, rode in as fast as they could ride, trying to
cut the steer off and drive it back to the herd. Well, not paying no
attention to each other but keeping their minds on the steer, they ran
together and both fell off. One of them broke his neck in the fall, and
the other fell under the other man's hoss, which stepped in his face and
kicked his head half loose. That was the gruesomest sight ever I expect to
see, the faces they had. Even when I stop to think about it, it gives me
that cold shudders and I have to think of something else.
By age 21, Bennett gave up being a cowboy and returned to Bremond, Texas, where,
among other things he operated a saloon.
XIT Cowboys, undated, location unidentified.
In 1891 Northside Spring Roundup [the northside of the Yellowstone in Montana], a 23 year-old Texas cowboy, possibly
orignally from Crockett County, Charlie Rutledge was riding as a "rep" for the XIT
with the N Bar N wagon. A rep rode with other wagons to insure that his own employer's
cattle were cut out from the main herd. As Charlie was cutting out an XIT steer, his horse fell and
crushed him. An N Bar N cowboy rode 60 miles to Miles City for medical assistance, but help arrived too late.
The night before, besides the campfire, Charlie had expressed remorse that after having left home over his
mother's protestations, that he had neglected to send her money. After all the work wqs
done in the fall, he would return home and see his
mother. There, as the sun rose over
the lonely prairie, Charlie Rutledge breathed his final words,
"I'll see my mother when the work's done this fall."
An N Bar N cowboy, Dominick J. White, later wrote a cowboy poem published in the Miles City Stock Growers Journal remembering
Charlie:
Charlie Rutledge
Words by D. J. White
(D. J. O'Malley)
Another good cowpuncher
Has gone to meet his fate;
We hope he'll find a resting place
Inside the golden gate.
A good man's place is vacant
At the ranch of the X I T,
And 'twill be hard to find one who
Was liked as well as he.
First Kid White of the Flying E,
Then Preller, young and brave,
Now Charlie Rutledge makes the third
That has been sent to his grave
By a cow-horse falling on him
Whilst running after stock
This Spring, while on the roundup,
Where death a man does mock.
How blithely he went forth that morn
On the circle through the hills,
Happy, gay and full of life
And free from earthly ills;
And when they came to clean the bunch,
To work it he was sent,
Not thinking that his time on earth
Was very nearly spent.
But one X I T would not go
And turned back in the herd,
So Charlie shoved him out again,
His cutting horse he spurred;
Another started to come back,
To head him off he tried,
The creature fell, the horse was thrown,
And 'neath him Charlie died.
'Twas a sad death for man to meet
Out on that lonely lea;
His relatives in Texas live,
No more his face they'll see;
But we hope the Father greets him
With a smile upon his face,
And seats him by his right hand
Near the shining throne of grace.
Later the words were set to an old sea song.
Roping a Steer, C. D. Kirkland, approx. 1889
A second cowboy song also finds its origins with the death of Charlie Rutledge, When Work's All done This Fall. The original tribute was also
published in the Stock Growers Journal by D. J. White:
When Work's All Done This Fall
Words by D. J. White
A group of jolly cowboys discussed their plans at ease,
Said one, "I'll tell you something, boys, if you please --
See, I'm a puncher, dressed most in rags;
I used to be a wild one and took on big jags.
"I have a home, boys, a good one you know,
But I haven't seen it since long, long ago.
But I'm going back home, boys, once more to see then all;
Yes, I'll go back home, boys, when work's all done this fall.
"After the roundup's over, after the shipping's done,
I'm going straight back home, boys, ere all my money's gone.
My mother's heart is breaking, breaking, breaking for me, that's all;
But with God's help I'll see her when the work is done this fall.
"When I left my home, boys, for me she cried,
Begged me to stay, boys, for me she would have died.
I haven't used her right, boys, my hard-earned cash I've spent,
When I should have saved it and to my mother sent.
"But I've changed my course, boys, I'll be a better man
And help my poor old mother, I'm sure that I can.
I'll walk in the straight path; no more will I fall;
And I'll see my mother when the work's done this fall."
That very night this cowboy went on guard;
The night it was dark and 'twas storming very hard.
The cattle got frightened and rushed in mad stampede,
He tried to check them, riding at full speed;
Riding in the darkness loud he did shout,
Doing his utmost to turn the herd about.
His saddle horse stumbled and on him did fall;
He'll not see his mother when the work's done this fall.
They picked him up gently and laid him on a bed;
The poor boy was mangled, they thought he was dead.
He opened up his blue eyes and gazed all around;
Then motioned his comrades to sit near him on the ground:
"Send her the wages I have earned.
Boys, I'm afraid that my last steer I've turned.
I'm going to a new range, I hear the Master call.
I'll not see my mother when the work's done this fall.
"Bill, take my saddle; George, take my bed;
Fred, take my pistol after I am dead.
Think of me kindly when on them you look--"
His voice then grew fainter, with anguish he shook.
His friends gathered closer and on them he gazed.
His breath coming fainter, his eyes growing glazed.
He uttered a few words, heard by them all:
"I'll see my mother when the work's done this fall."
When later the words were set to music, Rutledge's penance at not having sent his mother money was omitted and a different final
verse was added:
They buried him at sunrise, no tombstone at his head,
With nothing but a sign=board, and this is what it said
"Poor Charlie died at daybreak, he died from an augful fall,
And he won't see his mother when the work's all done this fall."
And in distant Crockett County, Texas, a mother waits for her son who will never return.
[Writer's notes: A search of census and genealogical records has been made of Texas. Although several Charles
Rutledge's were found from the applicable time period, only one was found whose death is
unrecorded in Texas and whose mother had been widowed by 1890.
D. J. White later changed his
name from White to O'Malley after his step-father named White deserted Domimick's mother. There is some
question as to the place of birth of D. J. White. He contended that he was born in San Angelo, Texas. However,
when he applied for a pension and had to prove his place of birth, he was surprised to learn
that he was apparently born in New York. The attribution of birth in New York was apparently based on the
1880 census for Fort Keogh which showed that his younger sister Margaret was born in Texas, but he was
from New York. White participated in three trail drives north from Texas for the Niedringhaus Brothers, owners of the
N Bar N. ]
Horse herd near Cheyenne, approx. 1888, photo by C. D. Kirkland
In 1872, Charles D. Kirkland arrived in Cheyenne from Denver in order to work in a
photography studio. He opened his own studio at 292 Ferguson Street in 1881. He invented a gelatine chloride process of
photography and in 1893 returned to Denver where better facilities were available for the manufacture of
the gelatine chloride. In Denver Kirkland maintained studios, first on Champa Street and later on
Welton and on Tremont Place. He ultimately sold the process to George Eastman.
Music this page: Charlie Rutledge.
Next Page, Roundups continued.
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