Uncle Bob & the Road to the Devil Saloon

By Patrick D. Patterson

Uncle Bob, Robert E. Lee Leavitt, was a true pioneer of the Wild West. This is his story, and that of his family, friends and fellow pioneers.

The story tells of Uncle Bobs forbearers as they ventured from Germany and Ireland to Americas shores, and traveled to what is now the city of Victoria, in southeast Texas.

From there, Uncle Bob leads a historic cattle drive to Montana, participated in crucial battles with the Comanche Indians, ultimately settling in a small Montana town where he ends up staying to run a red-light saloon.

Uncle Bobs story is told by himself, as well as by those who knew him best.

Uncle Bob, a man who knew triumph and defeat, jubilation and sorrow, displays the American Experience with all of its true grit, as well as its uncanny humor.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Apr 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781512737752

Patrick D. Patterson

Patrick D. Patterson and his wife Susan live on the working cattle ranch in South Texas where Uncle Bob was born and raised. The ranch was homesteaded by Bob’s father, AB Leavitt in 1858. Patrick was always fascinated and intrigued about his family’s history and their struggle to travel from Germany to Germantown, Texas. Patrick’s grandmother passed on to him many colorful stories about the adventurous family. As a young boy, Patrick found in the attic of the old homestead some buffalo horns and an old Indian peace pipe and said, “Someday, someone ought to write a book about Uncle Bob and his adventures on the cattle drive to Montana.” Little did Patrick know that it would be him who would be the one to write his family’s account of their adventures. Patrick was born and raised in San Antonio, Texas. He is also the author of a book about his High School days there, JEFF ’68 – It’s Our Party ©, is the name of that book. He is currently writing a sequel to Uncle Bob & The Road to the Devil Saloon. Mr. Leavitt Goes to Washington is the title of that upcoming book. The book is an adventure thriller about young cowboy Robbie Leavitt, taking up the cause of the oppressed Indians in Montana. Some remarkable and unfortunate incidences motivate Robbie to run for and win a seat in the United States Senate, where he becomes a powerful voice for the struggling Indians of Montana. The interaction between the characters will challenge your lifelong beliefs and motivate you to action. You will not remain the same after reading this unusual book.

Book preview

THE CATTLE DRIVE TO MONTANA

Robert E. Lee Leavitt, Uncle Bob, was a lean six footer, and quite a character. He was a right good cowman, and well-liked by everyone who knew him.

Uncle Bob possessed excellent judgment and was as honest as a man could be. There was not a lazy bone in his body. Rough and rowdy when appropriate but still a gentleman, he was courteous and respectful to everyone. No matter how tough things were, he always maintained good humor and rarely failed to see the bright side of things.

He was something of a cattle drive poet, and turned his spontaneous rhymes into tunes to sing from the saddle or around the camp fire;

"I spent a long day in the saddle, thinkin’ of grabbin’ some land,

Maybe buyin’ some stock and havin’ my own brand,

But it’s a dream I know that will never come true,

Dust I’ll be eatin’ until I’m ninety-two."

The night before the trail drive began, Uncle Bob shared some hot coffee and a can of cold tomatoes in his cabin with Robbie, Bob’s nephew, and one of the young cowboys.

As the youngster choked down his first sip of cowboy coffee, Bob laughed and said, You gotta chew that stuff first, else use a knife and fork.

Bob turned to Robbie and warned him about what was ahead of him.

Can you sit a horse? Bob asked "I don’t mean to ride around in the park on a pretty day, with some old girlfriend. I mean sit in a saddle eighteen maybe twenty-four hours a day?

"It ain’t no nickel romance book, son. There’s awful little glory and heaven’s share of hardship, a lot of work and little pay and you got a fair chance of getting killed. You know by the Injuns, the buffalos, drowning, horse stomped, fever and bandits.

You’re a boy, Bob said, "and it’s cowmen that you’ll be working with and they don’t have much use for a green kid who don’t pull his own weight. Do you know what I mean?

Why, you’ll be on drag all the way up to Montana eatin’ dust from two thousand head of cattle plus the horse herd. Well now, get all of your stuff together, put it in that poke that I gave you and finish off that coffee.

Uncle Bob handed Robbie a piece of paper and pencil and said he had one last thing for Robbie to do before they left for Montana.

Write me a note in big letters, Bob said.

Bob told Robbie what to write, then he took back the note and nailed the paper to the cabin door with the butt of his .44.

Let’s ride, Bob said.

Robbie followed, hopped on his horse and kicked her to a trot. Riding away, he looked back at the note nailed on the cabin door.

GONE TO MONTANA, BACK NEXT FALL

Robbie, you go on ahead and meet up with the herd. Check in with Mr. Doug. I’ve got one other thing that I gotta do. Bob wants to say his final goodbye to his longtime girlfriend, Betty Braun.

Did you really mean all of those things that you said to me last night? Bob asks Betty. "About us getting married and having babies and raising a family and growing fat and old together, like normal people do?

Of course I am serious, Bob. I have loved you ever since we first met back in grade school. I have never been happier than when I am with you. Why do you have to go off and do something so foolish as this crazy cattle drive?

Besides, you will probably go off and get yourself killed along the way and I will never see you again. Bob, we can have a wonderful life here, together. Your father has passed and this great ranch here is yours and it can be ours, together, like we have talked about many times." Says Betty.

As she begins to cry, Bob holds her tightly and says, "I love you very much too, Betty, and I do mean all of those things that we have said to each other. It’s just that I am not ready to settle down like that right now.

When I think about the adventure of the cattle trail and going to a place that very few people have ever been to, I, I just can’t get it out of my mind. If we did get married now and I gave up this cattle drive, it would just knaw on the inside of me and I would be no good to you or anyone else like that."

Bob says.

"Some men just have to get that one big adventure out of their system before they can settle down. Wait for me and I will be back. Shoot, I’m not gonna die, I’m gonna live. You and me are just starting to live and everything is going great. When I come back, we will get married and start our family.

Besides all of that, I am going to make us a ton of money selling those cows to the Government and I will be able to buy you just about anything that your sweet little heart desires.

We will have a fine wedding, a huge one. We will invite the whole country. How about having it on that pretty spot on the Guadalupe River where we first made out?" Bob replies.

I don’t care about the money, Bob, I just don’t want to lose you. Betty says. Bob turns to his horse and reaches into his saddle bag and pulls out a Bible. Here, hold on to my father’s old Bible until I get back. That Bible means a lot to me.

The cowboys kept the cattle moving at a good clip, stopping only for noon meals and to change horses. They ate in two shifts, gulping down coffee, beans and bacon and biscuits by the chuck wagon.

They are following 2,000 head of prime Texas beef all of the way to Montana. Bob has a contract in his saddle bag to deliver the half wild cattle to the Calvary Post at Fort Keogh.

They fell into a certain routine, a quick breakfast before sunup, several hours on horseback, choking on dust while shouting at the bawling herd of cattle. Then they took a quick break at noon for coffee, beans, biscuits and bacon and a change of mounts. Then they rode on several more hours before welcome relief at the day’s end for a good supper of grilled beef steak, beans, biscuits, vinegar pie and coffee.

You boys sure can eat. I suppose that is a complement to my good cooking. A steer don’t go very far with this outfit. If you boys can’t get your appetite under control, y’all will eat up this whole herd of cattle before we can get to Montana. Doug concluded.

After supper the Mexicans strung a rope corral around the remuda, so that each of the cowboys could pick his own mounts for the next day’s drive.

It was customary to pick out four or five of the horses leaving the Vaqueros to tend to them and have them ready to ride when we came in for a change of mounts tomorrow.

The more experienced cowboys, Lloyd and Miguel and Chris fought it out for first pick of the best horses to ride. Then the other cowboys would choose from what was left.

Once all of the horses were selected, then Uncle Bob would go over the riding positions for the next day’s drive. Bob was always faithful to mete out the riding assignments even though they were almost always the same.

Lloyd you take point, Miguel and Chris, you are on right and left. Billy and Robert, you back them up, right and left. Gonzalo and Robbie, you are on drag. You boys just move em up slowly, let them all fan out, we aint in no big hurry. No sense in getting anybody hurt. Bob shouted.

Gathering around the chuck wagon for supper was the high point of young Robbie’s day. He especially enjoyed the conversation between the cowboys – their tall tales and stories, joking around and the laughing.

After supper there was much deserved sleep, but that was sometimes broken up by the dreaded watch duty.

Robbie later recounted another fascinating part of the trip – the journey itself, with the trail drive turning into a great adventure that revealed territory and landscapes never yet seen by the youngster.

He later described this time of exploration in his diary;

"The countryside slowly changed as we moved north, leaving behind the brush country near San Antonio and discovering rolling prairie and hills, lowly mesquite trees and purple sage scrub brush and an abundance of beautiful white tail deer.

"I still choked on dust often, but as we pushed northward, I took pleasure in watching the large cattle herd, fanning out like a long brown river in front of me, their horns glistening in the hot sun.

I felt like I was a part of history and thought the work was long and hard and not at all like what I had originally expected, I was having the time of my life. I think that my mother would be really proud of me, now. I think that I am becoming a man and a real cowboy, young Robbie wrote.

This journey would actually be more historic and dangerous than Robbie and the other cowboys had expected.

"Our trail led us into the beauty of the Texas Hill Country and we decided to take the short route and through the Bandera Pass. The Pass is a plain gap in between the chain of hills about ten miles northwest of the town of Bandera, Texas.

"We arrived at the pass at about 11 o’clock in the morning. Suddenly, we were surprised and confronted by a large band of Comanche Indians. There was no warning, the Comanche were well-protected in the high ground about the pass. Immediately, our Mexican guide was riddled with arrows. Both he and his horse were killed.

This was a pretty bad turn of the trail riders’ luck.

Uncle Bob yelled out, We’ll see pretty fast if we’re really meant to be cattlemen. We’ll see whether or not we can make this drive. If we live thru this!

The men quickly dismounted and returned fire. They were greatly outnumbered, and the Comanche arrows soon struck Bob, Robert and Doug in their arms and shoulders.

The battle was fierce, Robbie said, "but our superior weaponry, our rapid fire, repeating Winchester rifles slowly turned the tide in our favor. We held our ground and killed many of the fierce Indian fighters. But, the way the Indians were situated, all they had to do was to wait us out. They could sneak up upon us in the dark of the night if they choose to. There is no way that we would be able to see them.

We didn’t have time to even think about the herd, which has stampeded through the pass. No, this was life or death and we had our hands full fighting this bad bunch of fighters. Robbie said.

Doug, though injured, along with Lloyd, slowly make their way to unpacked two Sharps .50 caliber buffalo rifles. Hiding behind the chuck wagon, they begin to pick off the warriors at long range as they begin taking cover behind the large granite boulders. The Indians here have never seen a rifle that would shoot so far.

Just as quickly as the intense battle began, it ceased. The Indians must have ridden off to regroup and attack us later. That was real bad. I hate those wild savages. What in the world did we do to them? We are just lucky to be alive. If we had not gotten to these buffalo guns, we would all be dead right now! Said Doug.

The cowboys quickly mounted up and rode out to the other side of the pass.

We were shocked again, Robbie continued, when we saw four men hanging by a rope upside down from a large oak tree. They were left to die. Poor souls.

The buzzards are starting on the flesh of the rest of their bodies. Sadly, they could only cut them down and did not have time to bury them. They finally found the herd and secured a camp on top of a small hill for better protection.

"We buried the dead Mexican and bandage up our wounds. We had to clean up also, several of the men were so scared that they messed in their trousers.

Not much was said around the campfire that night. Everyone was exhausted and disheartened," Robbie said.

Bob was disgusted. He mounted up his horse and sat motionless and alone on the hill as if he was taking some sort of early guard duty. With the sun going down and the sky painting a beautiful mosaic in soft pastels of blue, yellow and orange, everything seemed sort of peaceful. Bob had an odd and confused feeling about himself and what had happened earlier.

Maybe I was wrong; I had just convinced myself that this drive was necessary. All of the sudden I am losing my sense for the adventure. Is it worth it? I don’t know. Fighting the Indians, that was necessary, that’s for sure. That’s life or death. But it sure is a lot of senseless killin.

Well, we should just turn the herd back to the ranch tomorrow, he said. Betty was right. I shouldn’t be going on this drive. We will probably all be killed on this crazy trail somewhere.

But everyone knew – even when Uncle Bob expressed negative feelings, it would soon pass. If anyone, Bob would be up for finishing the job. Maybe that sense of adventure will return once we get this behind us. A good night’s rest would help also. Bob thinks to himself.

THE LEAVITTS LEAVE GERMANY FOR AMERICA

From the diary of Joseph Leavitt, Uncle Bobs grandfather:

"My name is Joseph Leavitt. My family has lived in Dannenberg in the fertile Elbe River valley of Northern Germany for many generations. My father is Isaac Leavitt, who is a farmer just like his father was.

"We are not peasants, but are a hardworking, self-sufficient family of moderate wealth. We have been blessed by God to own all of our land and we have no debt.

We wonder how much longer that we can hold on to our property because there is so much political unrest in our country. The German people have widespread dissatisfaction with the political leadership. They petition for more participation in the governmental process and democracy.

"The working class demands freedom of the press and freedom from the reactionary forces of the royalty and aristocracy, the military and the church. Uprisings led by the working class and poor are ongoing and common.

"Reform is demanded as tens of thousands of protesters have been killed and many more are forced into exile. Joseph is young and restless and hears about many of his young friends leaving for America.

There is free land to homestead and a chance to start a new life without the shackles of the oppressive governmental system of Germany.

Joseph decides to leave Germany and sail for America. He and his family make their way north to the port city of Hamburg.

Hamburg is a large and affluent transportation hub of northern Germany. It is a bustling seaport city at the mouth of the Elbe River. They book passage on the merchant ship, Skiblandner, and sail on to Boston Harbor.

"The voyage from Hamburg to Boston Harbor, for many will not be looked upon fondly. The trip will contain many trials and perils to overcome.

How do you prepare for an unknown future and leave behind all that is so familiar?

With the limited space available on ship, each family has had to plan carefully about what items to bring with them."

The embarking of the ship to travel to America was a very special occasion for the 180 mostly German immigrants, who had already overcome the first major obstacle - the cost of the ticket.

Rich and poor, young and old were all comingled together to experience the unknown elements of the journey. On this ship all the passengers were given a physical examination prior to boarding.

There had been a cholera outbreak recently and everyone was screened for this disease. Disease has killed more emigrants on the ships than had shipwrecks.

Awaiting them was the great Atlantic Oceans, the earth’s second-largest. The early Greeks believed the Atlantic to be a gigantic river encircling the earth.

For many of the passengers, the weeks of life below deck would be barely tolerable. Bedding and eating utensils were passed out and then the hatches to the holds that housed the second-class passenger’s bunks were quickly battened down.

But, above deck in first class, the passengers were being installed into their cabins. The Leavitt’s are among these fortunate first-class passengers, and settle into their cramped cabin.

Upon the high seas, was the constant bouncing about from the weather and waves making it difficult to stand on many days. Seasickness was a constant companion with many passenger’s sick and vomiting.

The days passed slowly for those who were afflicted with nausea as they struggled to keep food down. But the arrival of favorable winds helped to speed up the trip and temporarily relieve many passengers of their misery.

The voyage to America was an important and memorable experience for all the emigrants on board the ship. It was not only the experience that the arrival in America would bring to their lives, but the trip itself made an indelible impression on everyone.

At the voyage’s end, they stood on dry land and they all thanked God, the voyage was finally over and they had arrived safely.

THE LEAVITTS SETTLE INTO NORTHERN MAINE

Joseph Leavitt was obligated to transport all his supplies on his back through the wilderness of Maine, but it was his friendly relations with the Indians that allowed him to manage this arduous task.

The general court of Massachusetts had granted and confirmed the award of a township in the province of Maine to a company of sixty men, including Joseph Leavitt.

Originally called Sylvester-Canada, the town was situated on the west bank of the Androscoggin River. Its southern end was at the outlet of Little Wilson Pond.

The town was generally as rectangular as the flow of the river permitted, and was five miles wide and ten miles long.

The sixty people that had been granted an undeveloped tract of land in the province of Maine encountered many problems. The Indians living in this area at the time were not one of them

The Indians who inhabited this region were Anasagunticooks, a powerful tribe whose hunting grounds covered the entire Androscoggin Valley. Though powerful, they were friendly and helpful, particularly since their new neighbors were small in number and posed no threat to them.

The biggest problem for the early settlers was timber thieves, who posed a constant problem, as the town’s proprietors warned them.

The primary target of their thefts was the extremely high-quality pine, which the area had in great abundance.

The town’s leaders had passed an extreme measure to thwart the thieves. The strategy was to burn all the township’s hay as winter approached, so the thieves would not have anything to feed their oxen, used to haul their stolen timber onto the river ice.

In surveying and planning the town for future sale of lots, city fathers decided to require the building of a home suitable for a house of worship, the recruitment of a protestant minister, and land set aside for a ministry. The early planning also included a grammar school for the town.

These early conditions were not easy to meet. For one thing, this property was in an undeveloped wilderness and not easily accessible. There was only a horse trail from the town of New Gloucester which was the closest settlement.

Also, there was not yet a bridge over the Androscoggin River. There was hardly any incentive to do so, because of the town’s lack of services for such basics as grinding corn or even sharpening axes.

The proprietors offered incentives to attract new settlers, including a program to give away a new lot of land to each of thirty new settlers.

However, there were no takers.

Finally, however, Joseph Leavitt, Abner Phillips, Thomas and Elisha Records and Daniel Staples entered the town with axes on their shoulders and began the settlement of the new village. They would become the true pioneers of what would come to be known as Turner, Maine.

Joseph Leavitt began to build a small log cabin. In the spring, he planted his seeds. He left his cabin and field in the care of the Indians that he had befriended and returned to his family.

In the summer, he returned to Pembroke, Massachusetts and brought back with him his family.

Turner, in the beginning was just a series