The Indomitable Edna Barbour
Edna Naomi Barbour with her mother Alice around 1914
“She [the “New Woman”] is the product of the devil, the old maids and a few misguided matrons whose sole desire in life is to make a “name” for themselves, no matter of what description. She is the antithesis of the type of woman who commands the admiration of man, being immodest, obtrusive, and disagreeably masculine. To conclude, she is merely a fad, the tenure of whose existence is, thank heaven, limited.” – S.J. Davis, 1895
“The new woman is the same “old” woman; supreme in the affection of her husband and family; “new” only in that she asks and is finding an opportunity for the full exercise of all her faculties. In the earnest struggle of life she takes a place beside man, his equal in capacity and responsibility. Earnest, sympathetic, strong, she is the type of woman of the future, the product of the age.” – Percy Peters, 1895.
Edna Naomi Barbour was 11 years old when Chicago residents were invited to weigh in on the “New Woman.” Who was she? Was she a “female freak, an utter perversion of womanhood?” Or was she the “advanced” woman, “beckoning her sisters….to follow her on the onward and upward road of advancement, education and improvement,” letting the world know that American women were free to use their talents and gifts,” without becoming “manly,” and without neglecting husband, home and children? The Chicago Tribune invited readers to send in their opinions, which were published in September 1895.
To oversimplify, the New Woman was college educated, supported women's suffrage and the idea of women living independently and supporting themselves in an opening range of fields. She rode bicycles and supported dress reform. She was no longer confined solely to home and church pursuits. This was a very threatening idea to many.
Edna was born at a time when the idea of the “women’s sphere” was thought to be set in stone. It was, after all, ordained by God. Women were passive, submissive, emotional beings who needed to be sheltered and protected by logical, rational men (at least, if they were white middle- and upper-class). They were responsible for moral uplift, gently urging their husbands and firmly guiding their children towards purity and piety. Their proper place was strictly in the home; men’s place was out in the world earning a living, engaging in politics and leading.
But Edna came of age when this was increasingly challenged, and as opportunities opened for her that had been closed to her mother Alice.
Edna’s life started like her mother’s. Well….it did, and it didn’t. Like Alice Hatfield Barbour, Edna was born on a farm in northern Indiana. Alice was the tenth of eleven children; Edna was the fourth of her mother’s seven. But the circumstances of Edna’s birth were complicated. Her father Lucius Taylor Barbour was married to Lizzie Loring Barbour, not Alice. Alice may have been divorced, or may still have married to her first husband, Peter Hoover. Alice had violated the “code” by which women were to live.
On the 1880 census, Lucius and Alice lived together with her three children at the time, Charlie, Clara and Myron Hoover. She is identified as widowed, something most divorced women chose as a face-saving designation. Lucius is listed as single. In the column where the relationship to the head of household was to be identified, i.e. wife, son, daughter, mother-in-law, boarder, servant, the enumerator wrote “keeping house.” Her occupation, like nearly all women at the time, was again listed as “keeping house.”
Lucius’ and Alice’s relationship was undefined on the 1880 census because there was no designation for it at the time. Live-in girlfriend wasn’t something that appeared on the census. When Edna was born in 1884, there still wasn’t a designation, but the relationship was clear. Edna was sort of an “inconvenient truth.”
There had to be talk in the neighborhood. Maybe in the years before Edna was born they had passed themselves off as having an employer-employee relationship, which is what they seemed to do on the 1885 Kansas state census.
Getting a fresh start out of state seemed like their best bet. On the Kansas census, Alice was identified as the widowed head of household. Edna is identified as Edna Hoover. Lucius is listed as a laborer, and the inference is that he is merely a boarder in the Hoover household. Eleven-year old Charlie is a “student and clerk.” It would seem reasonable to those living in 1885 that a widowed mother was being supported by her 11-year old son and by taking in a boarder.
June 1887 Lucius filed for divorce from his wife Lizzie on the grounds of desertion. It was true Lizzie left him, taking their three children back to her hometown, Rising Sun, Indiana sometime after the birth of their son Frank in 1870. Lucius suffered from the after effects of his experiences in the Civil War - being wounded twice and serving months in Confederate prisons, released as a walking skeleton. He turned to drink, self-medicating as we would say today, something unacceptable to Lizzie, a devout Presbyterian and temperance supporter. He suggested a divorce in the early 1870s but it was not something she was willing to do.
Filing for divorce in the 1880s did not mean a judge would grant it. But filing on grounds of desertion nearly guaranteed the divorce would go through. Nothing was farther from the ideals of True Womanhood than a wife leaving her husband, as Lizzie clearly did.
For Alice, living with a married man who was not her husband, and having a child out of wedlock meant she had committed the worst sins of a woman, short of prostitution. But now, this could be fixed. Finally free to marry, Lucius and Alice did so in October 1887. That year, Lucius’ father, Myron Fitch Barbour, bought a farm in Fawn Creek Township for his son. Alice and Lucius started over, moving to the farm outside Coffeyville, Kansas. Edna was three. No one had to know her parents’ history. They were just another middle-class, respectable, churchgoing farm couple. Going forward, they told people they married a year before Edna was born. Maybe Edna never knew any different.
Spotlight on Edna
Edna’s first of many appearances in newspapers was in September 1888. Her parents hosted a donation party for Rev. William B. Chamberlain of the Presbyterian church in Coffeyville. “Organ music by Mrs. Chamberlain, Mrs. Curry and others was a pleasant feature, while the best part of the evening’s entertainment was the singing and declamation of little Edna Barbour, a sweet little brunette of four summers. Her efforts were voted an entire success by everybody.”
Edna grew up at a time when virtually every middle-class home had a piano or organ, and at least one person in the family who could play it reasonably well. Declamations and poetry recitals were performed at every important event and get-together. They, along with a musical solo, were essentially the only proper way for a girl or woman to be the center of attention.
Edna was 15 the next time she was mentioned performing. Ben and Lovicy Ernest hosted a Fourth of July bash at their “grove.” These events were “BYOB” – bring your own basket - “well-filled” picnic baskets, as they were always described. After dinner - the noontime meal - there was a program. Edna and another young girl gave declamations, probably a speech of George Washington’s or Patrick Henry, or something else patriotic. Original speeches were given by three men, including an area postmaster, and Ben Ernest spoke on his years as a pioneer. An audience sing-along and games such as a potato sack race and a cracker-eating contest followed. Finally, there was a dance with a string band. Maybe Edna danced with 17-year old Wellington Engles, the only child of a prosperous farmer, who attended the gathering.
In the years 1900 to 1909, Edna was mentioned at least 56 times in the “country correspondent” columns - an average of about six times a year. She was mentioned at least 13 times in 1900 when she was 16. In contrast, to give some perspective, her friend Bertha Patchett was mentioned 15 times total in the same nine-year period. Edna was lively and social, and she must have enjoyed seeing her name in print.
Ambitions
In Alice’s day, the feminine ideal was being retiring, utterly invisible in public. College education for women was still a controversial idea. A woman’s only ambition was to marry because that was her only key to economic stability, and it was her role in True Womanhood. These ideas began to be challenged as Edna was in her teens. Women’s employment doubled in the last two decades of the nineteenth century, although what was acceptable for women to do remained very limited. Those who worked in white collar fields were overwhelmingly relegated to being secretaries, stenographers and clerks. Still, there was prestige in that. It was better than working as a domestic, which was the largest single work category for women. Or, of course one could be a teacher.
There were some rare local role models. By the time Edna finished common school in 1900 the Coffeyville city clerk was a young woman, Leila C. Elliott. It was common for women to be teachers, of course, but teachers at high schools, with college educations, were still unusual. She could look at Miss Lura Bellamy and Miss Georgia Cubine teaching at the new Montgomery County High School, both of whom attended college. Georgia was even a graduate of the University of Kansas where she was a noted athlete.
In April 1900 Edna and her good friend Zilpah Baker took the common school exam together, which students had to take if they wanted to go on to high school or had any hope of being a teacher themselves. In May the newspaper editor wrote, “Several of our boys and girls are disappointed at the results of the examination for county diploma.” Zilpah passed.
In June, however, Edna took the train to Independence to attend the summer school session of county high school.
High School
To even attend high school was exceedingly rare. Only five percent of young people continued past the eighth year that common school offered. Of those, few graduated from high school and fewer went on to college. In March 1900, in defense of public high schools, the superintendent of Montgomery County Public Schools said, “The perpetuity and stability of a republic does not depend upon the classical education of a few individuals, but upon the general diffusion of knowledge among the common people who constitute the majority of our citizens, and for whom these schools will become great radiating centers for the dissemination of such ideas, both intellectual and moral, as will redound to the welfare of the commonwealth.”
A public high school in every county was still a dream in most of the country, and the “High School Movement,” which brought it about, is now largely forgotten. In Kansas legislators passed a bill in 1886 allowing for the establishment of a county high school in counties with populations of at least 6,000. A special election had to be held with the majority approving the school. There were stipulations: no one could attend without passing an entrance exam proving they could do the work; tuition had to be free, and three tracks had to be provided. The three tracks were each three years of instruction - a general course for those who didn’t intend to go to college, a normal course for those planning to be teachers, and a collegiate course for those planning to enter “professional” (not teacher) colleges, such as the University of Kansas.
Legislation wasn’t introduced to make a high school in Independence possible until 1897. A group of Montgomery County citizens opposed it so vehemently that they hired an attorney to fight against it. Yet this obstacle was overcome and a beautiful three-story brick and sandstone building opened in September 1899, with a bell tower and two turrets.
Edna walked into a gleaming building whose first class had just finished their first year. The school was truly impressive. It had 13-foot ceilings, an assembly room seating 600, a darkroom, a modern chemistry lab, its own library and auditorium and the start of a museum with items like a fossil collection, mounted animal heads and Indian arrowheads. Each classroom was fitted up with heavy slate blackboards from Pennsylvania quarries, and enormous windows for the best lighting. There were modern bathrooms with flush toilets in the basement. There were five teachers in addition to the principal. The three male teachers were paid $750 per year, and all were addressed as “professor.” The women made $600 per year and were not granted such a title. (The custodians were paid $60 a month.) High school teachers were even more admired than common school teachers.
One problem with most county high schools, however, was that not only was transportation not included, but road conditions and the distances of those living outside the county seat precluded attendance. Those who wanted to attend had to board, and of course, that was at their family’s expense. When the Montgomery County High School opened, room and board was typically $2.50 a week. Additionally, while the school was tuition-free to county residents, all students had to buy their textbooks. Then there would also be the transportation cost back home on weekends or at least periodically. In M.C.H.S.’s first student body of about 200, almost all were from Independence.
Edna lasted for the summer term. It was still more schooling than most people had. She could always say that she attended high school. It would also not be the last time Edna went to school.
Wellington
Edna disappeared from the country correspondent column during her summer away at high school. In August, she reappeared at an ice cream supper at a neighbor’s home. Wellington Engles came, too. Over the next two years, Wellington was at several of the events Edna attended, and the two began to do things together, like attending a band concert in Coffeyville, or visiting her older sister Clara. November 1902 they applied for a marriage license. They married at the Methodist parsonage on Thanksgiving morning. Afterwards, they went to Edna’s parents’ home, where an “elegant” dinner was prepared for them.
“The occasion served as a family reunion and all members of the family and friends were gathered around the table and a royal good time enjoyed,” the newspaper reported. “Miss Barbour has grown to womanhood in the neighborhood in which she lives and her winning ways have endeared her to all who have the good fortune of her acquaintance.”
Edna was 18 and Wellington was 21. “Mr. and Mrs. Engels will spend the winter at the home of the groom’s father,” the newspaper noted. This was not uncommon, especially when the groom was this young.
The senior Mr. Engles spent 14 years in the Cherokee Nation, building up a successful stock business. From this, he was able to buy a home and 245-acre farm outright. By 1899, he owned 480 acres and was described in the newspaper as a wealthy farmer. In 1901, he bought the farm that was once the homeplace of Edna’s uncle Myron C. Barbour.
To Webb City….And Other Parts
The story of Edna’s marriage can be told in the one-sentence items that appeared in the country correspondent columns. Mr. and Mrs. Engles visited her parents, Mr. and Mrs. L.T. Barbour…… Edna visited with friends……
Suddenly in January 1904, Edna was attending business college in Webb City, Missouri. In March, Mrs. Edna Engles of Webb City visited her mother. The Webb City Register noted when Miss Edna Engles returned from visiting the “homefolks.”
The use of Edna’s first name is significant. Women almost always were referred to by their husband’s names or initials until they were widowed. Then their first names appeared in print again. There was also no mention of Wellington or his parents in her visit home.
Mrs. Edna Engles told the Coffeyville correspondent there were 500 students attending the business college, and the building could accommodate 1,000. She was right. The school was the Great Western Normal School and Business College, which was housed in a grand four-story brick building with nearly 100 rooms. Built in 1893 as Webb City College, it had electricity, and hot and cold running water on each floor. A chapel seated 700, and there were 100 dorm rooms for girls. In 1905, any of the listed courses plus room and board for two months was $32. The proprietor boasted in an ad that it had “More typewriters than any other Business College in the U.S.” - 75, with $45 oak roll-top desks for students to work at, in imitation of what they would have in the business world. A reporter who visited the school in 1904 assured readers that a high standard of morality and decorum was observed.
In May Edna visited home again and attended a street fair in Dearing. She wasn’t acting like a proper married woman.
Months passed and an item appeared in a February 1905 Coffeyville newspaper that Edna was going to Fort Worth “for treatment, where her brother is studying medicine and will have the privileges of the faculty.” Five days later there was an article in the Coffeyville Daily Reporter that blew up Edna’s life for a while.
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Shades of Scandal
September 1904. A man arrived in Coffeyville, telling everyone he was an oil company promoter. He dressed well. He was a nice-looking young man. He had a fine horse and buggy. He was Otis Harrod, a married man, who rented a room downtown. He told his wife back home that he was starting a drugstore in a small town for Coffeyville pharmacist Dr. G.P. Harvey, co-owner of the K&H Drugstore on Ninth Street. When he had everything set up, he would send for her. Two months after his arrival, a new pharmacist, Frank Bangs, came to work for Dr. Harvey at the drugstore. He shared the rented room with Otis.
Edna met Otis when he rode out to her parents’ farm talking up oil leases. Alice was widowed in April 1903, and Edna moved back home after her business college days at Webb City. Soon, Edna, who was still married to Wellington, was out riding with Otis, and stopping in the drugstore, where he hung out a lot, to enquire if he was there. That already did not look good for “Mrs. Engels,” who was likely already a subject of gossip.
Early in February, Edna took the train to Fort Worth. Coincidentally, it seemed, Otis Harrod took the train to Fort Worth the same day. The young pharmacist Frank Bangs also left town, and after their departure Dr. Harvey discovered thousands of dollars worth of missing merchandise and cash. He also revealed that he was out thousands more dollars in a scheme involving the supposed oil leases. Dr. Harvey signed a contract with Otis stipulating that Otis would buy oil leases from farmers with money provided by the pharmacist. They would split the profits; Otis supposedly doing all the legwork. Otis reported buying seven oil leases in Edna’s neighborhood, and Dr. Harvey was happy to pay for them thinking his investment was paying off so well. Otis told Dr. Harvey just before his disappearance that he was ready to develop the Barbour farm, and that Alice and Edna were willing to put up a good portion of the money.
People did not think Edna was in on the scheme, but that she had been duped, according to an article in the Coffeyville Daily Record. Alice and Edna must have been horrified by the story. It didn’t challenge Edna’s integrity, but her virtue - regarded as the most important thing a woman had.
Alice contacted the newspaper and a follow-up story ran with the awkward heading “With Her Brother. Mrs. Engels Did Not Leave City With Otis Harrod.” Alice said Edna thought nothing of Otis other than he seemed like a nice young man with a nice horse and buggy. She said the Coffeyville Gas Company owned an oil lease on her farm, and that she never had a conversation with Otis about any leasing. She also said Otis left a day after Edna, and Edna was with her brother Charlie seeking medical care.
The whole thing seemed to blow over. Two weeks later Frank Bangs reappeared in town saying he had just returned from Fort Worth, and that Otis Harrod was there. He was “considerably put out,” the reporter said, when told that he’d been suspected in the theft of the K&H Drugstore. No arrests were reported.
Edna did not return for three months. Just days after she returned, the People’s Gas Company “brought in a fairly good well on the Lucius Barbour farm.”
Eleven months later, in April 1906, Wellington filed for divorce. It was hardly surprising news.
Another Marriage
Edna didn’t avoid the country correspondent columns. She and Wellington attended a birthday party for Fanelia Patchett Schaub in June and were listed separately as E. Engels and W. Engels. Otherwise, she returned to being Miss Edna Barbour. October 1906, she, her mother and her youngest brother McKinley traveled to Bourbon, Indiana for a Hatfield family reunion. Alice reported that it was 25 years since she’d seen some of her siblings. Alice and McKinley were meeting them for the first time. In June 1907 Edna traveled again, visiting her brother Charlie in Colorado. He’d given up medical school and was already suffering from the tuberculosis that would greatly shorten his life. Yet he worked in challenging physical conditions for the U.S. Geological Survey, believing it would help him recover his health.
At the end of the year, Edna was ready to try married life again. With the whiff of scandal about her, it makes sense that her second husband would be from out-of-state, and there were no local in-laws to try to win over. Minor Joseph McDougle was what Otis Harrod pretended to be. He really did work for an oil company and worked at obtaining leases on farmer’s land. He moved to the area from Lima, Ohio. Edna was 23 and Minor was 29 when they married at the Congregational parsonage in December 1907. The Dearing News said, “The bride is a well-known young woman who has lived in Dearing from early childhood and has a large circle of friends with whom she is deservedly popular.”
In March, Alice sold a piece of property in Dearing to her son-in-law for $2,000. The McDougles moved to Nowata, Oklahoma, and were frequent visitors at Alice’s.
But it didn’t last long. Miner filed for divorce in November 1910, charging gross neglect of duty. This could mean a few things - that Edna refused to perform her wifely duties such as keeping house, or that she moved back in with her mother. Also in November Miner sold the property back to Alice for the same amount. The marriage officially ended exactly three years after it began.
Troubles
There was a lot going on in those three years. But first, take a step back in time. In 1887, when Alice’s father-in-law bought farms for his sons, they were not gifts. Nor did he set up a “rent to own” arrangement. Myron F. Barbour died the day after Christmas in 1900, and his will was probated in court in January 1901. It was a shock to his children. In 1891 at age 79 Myron F. remarried to a woman a year younger than his son Lucius. When his will was read they discovered that all of Myron’s assets were held in a trust benefiting the second wife Margaret and her sister Margery. Further, the executor of the estate could sell off Myron’s property as he saw fit and as needed to continue to provide a comfortable lifestyle for the sisters.
The home Lucius and Alice had lived in for 14 years, and the land into which Lucius Barbour poured so much energy, was not theirs. They would not be compensated for improvements they made to the property, which increased its value. Alice remained on the farm for a few years after Lucius died in 1903. She advertised the farm for sale in 1906 and moved into town - Dearing - but she could not sell property she didn’t actually own. The farm was rented, and Alice opened a boarding house in Dearing, one of the few acceptable ways a woman could support herself. It was relentless work providing three meals a day, seven days a week for a group of strangers.
By the end of 1907, the executor of Myron’s estate informed her he would be selling the farm. Alice immediately filed suit in court on behalf of herself and all her children. In May and September 1909 she lost two cases in regard to the property. When she was widowed, she was left with three sons to raise, McKinley, age seven; Jesse, 10; and Harry, age 12. She had a small pension as a Civil War widow, but since Lucius’ death Alice had to support herself and her youngest children. Now she lacked the income from the farm.
Compounding her problems, in June 1910 her home in Dearing was destroyed in a fire. It was only partially insured. She announced that she would rebuild. But in July 1910, there was another announcement: Alice, Edna, Jesse and McKinley would be taking an extended visit to Wyoming. Another article said that Alice was going to Wyoming with her two youngest sons and Edna was not mentioned. Either way, this was the time when Edna's second marriage was coming to its end.
Wyoming
Alice’s oldest son Charlie was fascinated by the mountains and fossil beds he saw in Wyoming during his work with the U.S. Geological Survey. He settled in Newcastle, known today as the “Western Gateway to the Black Hills,” where he took over a restaurant. Alice needed a fresh start when she was a young woman in Indiana, and now, it must have seemed a good time to start over again. Wyoming offered something that Kansas no longer did: homesteading. Alice and her boys could acquire 320 acres with only a ten dollar filing fee and a small payment to a land office representative. After working it for five years they would own the land mortgage-free. That had to seem immensely appealing to a farm woman who was currently homeless.
This was made possible by the Enlarged Homestead Act passed in Congress in 1909. It increased the homestead size to 320 acres of non-irrigable land in parts of several western states including Wyoming. The law was a response to the dryland farming movement that grew after the turn of the century. New farming techniques rendered land usable for crop growing which were previously believed to be good for ranching only. Alice and her sons planned on ranching, not crops, however.
Alice was 56; her sons were 16 and 18. She would be one of the 10 to 15 percent of women homesteaders. Making a go of it on Wyoming ranch wasn’t an easy prospect. But with her sons providing labor…why couldn’t they be successful? Alice filed a homestead claim on July 26, 1910.
Alice spent several months in Newcastle in 1910, returning to Dearing for a visit in November. The Dearing newspaper announced her plans to spend the winter in Nowata, which is where Edna lived. This summering and wintering made Alice sound like some grande diva, but Newcastle and Nowata were hardly the fashionable watering holes of the wealthy. November 18th Miner filed for divorce from Edna. March 1911 the Dearing Times reported that Alice had taken a homestead in Wyoming and was returning to it with her son McKinley. She probably felt some urgency, too, as her son Charlie was reported as “very low” with tuberculosis.
Black Thunder
In 1914 Elinore Pruitt Stewart published “Letters of a Woman Homesteader,” about her experiences in southwest Wyoming beginning in 1909. The commonly told story about Elinore is that she was a widow who supported herself and daughter in Denver at two of the fields most open to women - as a laundress, and a housekeeper. She answered an ad to be a housekeeper in Wyoming, and once there filed a homestead claim. She worked to prove up her claim as a single woman, and encouraged other single women to do the same.
Reality is often more complicated than what we are presented with. Some historians believe Elinore was divorced, not widowed, for example. What is undisputed is that a week after filing her claim and six weeks after arriving in Wyoming, Elinore married her employer, Clyde Stewart. She filed on land adjoining his. Married women were not allowed to file for a homestead. But Elinore hadn’t done anything illegal in filing and marrying a week later. One of the homestead requirements, though, was that one had to live on the land for five years. Elinore lived on Clyde’s land.
She relinquished her claim and had her mother-in-law file for the same property. When the elder Mrs. Stewart received the deed to the land, she sold it to her son. So the story of independent Elinore homesteading alone is exaggerated at best, although she was still a remarkable and resourceful woman.
Alice was in different circumstances, of course, She was no longer young. She did not have the “rescue” of a new husband coming along to help her. One hopes, however, that Alice experienced the joy that Elinore described in her new life. First though, she experienced sorrow. Charlie died just three months after her arrival. He was 36 and never married. His mother was the sole beneficiary of his will.
The Newcastle newspapers reported a steady stream of comings and goings among Alice, Edna, Jesse and Mack, but they leave out any details of how Alice ran her ranch. But the homestead claim was filed in her name - Jesse and Mack were too young to file when they moved to Wyoming. Alice successfully proved up the claim. It was on land known as the Black Thunder area, and their property was called the Black Thunder Ranch.
In August the Newcastle News Journal ran items about her son Harry visiting from Nowata, Oklahoma, and Jesse “coming down” from Sheridan for a visit. In October an item stated, “Miss Edna Barbour returned to Denver where she has again resumed her position with the Snell Shorthand School.”
Edna and Commercial Business College
Edna was in and out of Newcastle. Although it wasn’t mentioned in the newspaper, Edna probably had some office experience in between her marriages. She evidently learned shorthand proficiently enough in Webb City to be teaching it.
A lot of business colleges came and went. The Snell Shorthand College, operated by S.G. Snell, claimed to have been in business for 18 years and to have helped thousands “on their way to success in the mercantile world.”
Did Edna know someone in Denver? Or did she just decide to branch out on her own? Times were certainly changing, but this was still a bold move for a woman in 1911.
Meanwhile, Back on the Ranch….Or Off the Ranch
In 1912 Congress reduced the five-year residency requirement for homesteaders to three years. The land belonged to Alice by 1914. She enthusiastically sent copies of Wyoming newspapers to South Kansas Tribune in Independence, where the editor described her as a big Wyoming booster.
Ranch and farming life isn’t for everyone, and of Alice’s sons, only Mack seemed to enjoy that life. Charlie, Myron, Harry and Jesse all at least attempted to get higher education beyond common school, and white-collar clerical positions in towns. In 1912, Jesse went to Seattle to work in the claims department of the Northern Pacific Railway. Two years later, he was transferred to Butte, Montana. He had only been there a few days when there was a terrible accident. Jesse said he was walking towards the depot when something hit him, pushing him under the wheels of a moving passenger train. Jesse’s left leg was instantly severed below the knee. He survived the amputation without complications and moved back in with his mother.
Mack went to back to public school for awhile, finishing eighth grade as. a17-year old, while also working the ranch. He went to work for the Bureau of Biological Survey, part of the U.S. Department of Agriculture, in 1915. Their project was the complete extermination of prairie dogs, which were the bane of cattle ranchers. This was seasonal work and a source of extra income.
In 1916 a newspaper note announced that Alice was going to Seattle to spend the summer with her daughter Edna, “who is in charge of a business college in that city.” Jesse was joining the “prairie dog scouts” with the Department of Agriculture. Who was running the ranch?
In January 1917 the Newcastle newspaper ran a “complete list up to date of all those who have taken advantage of the additional 320 acre homestead law just passed.” McKinley H. Barbour and Jesse D. Barbour were on the list. This was the 1916 Stock-Raising Act. It provided 640 acres of public land that did not have to be cultivated. There were requirements patent filers had to meet, of course, such as developing water sources and infrastructure that supported stock raising and forage crops. Additionally, one big change was the federal government created what are called split estates. The homesteader would own the surface rights to the land, while the government maintained ownership of the subsurface mineral rights, such as oil. For the Barbour brothers, working as partners and including Alice’s original 320 acres, they now had 1,314 acres - enough to more reasonably make a go of stock raising in the dry west.
It was evident from the newspaper that Alice had a house in Newcastle, whether rented or bought. The living arrangements at Black Thunder were probably minimal, crude and very isolated. Alice lived partly in town and on the ranch. In May 1917 Edna came to visit her for a few weeks. Curiously, the newspaper identified her as “Mrs. Edna B. Howitt. “Mrs. Howitt was at one time a resident of Newcastle before going to Denver and Seattle, at which places she has made her home for the last few years,” readers were reminded. Another marriage? An editorial mistake?
In the 1916 Seattle City Directory, Mrs. Edna B. Howett is a teacher at the Progressive Shorthand School, living on Eleventh Street. There are no other Howetts listed. On the 1920 census Edna Barbour would be living on Eleventh Street. The Newcastle newspaper did not make a mistake. Although a marriage and divorce record haven’t surfaced, clearly Edna married again. Who was Mr. Howett? For now, it’s another family history mystery.
Through the Headlines
Glimpses of their lives surface in the Newcastle newspapers.
“Local News,” The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 15 Nov 1917, p. 4.
Mrs. Alice Barbour and son Jess came in from their Black Thunder ranch last Saturday on shopping errands.
The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 7 March 1918, p. 4.
Jesse D. Barbour of Black Thunder, was in after a load of supplies Tuesday.
“Hampshire,” Weston County Gazette (Newcastle, Wyoming) 10 May 1918, p. 4
Mrs. Barbour and son Mack will leave soon for Kansas City, Mo., and other points south where they will visit relatives. Mack expects to be called to army service in the near future so his visit may be cut short.
The News-Journal 25 July 1918, p.
Mrs. Alice Barbour, who has been visiting relatives in Oklahoma and Kansas for the past three months, returned to Newcastle Tuesday morning and left for her home on Black Thunder.
Edna's marriage to the mysterious Mr. Howett was as short-lived as her previous two marriages. She tried again in Spokane in September 1918. Husband Number Four was William Burt Schrock, a farmer. On their marriage license, Edna said she’d been married once before. She signed her name with her middle name - Naomi, and said her occupation was teacher.
The News-Journal 10 Oct 1918, p. 5 –
Jess Barbour returned to his ranch on Black Thunder after spending a week in town.
The News-Journal 21 Nov 1918, p.
Jesse Barbour of Black Thunder spent Sunday in Newcastle with his mother. Jesse expects his brother Mac [sic] home from Camp Lee, Va., in a short time.
The News-Journal (Wyoming), 9 Jan 1919, p. 5
Mrs. Alice Barbour Saturday received a letter from her son Mack, who has landed safely in France. This is Mrs. Barbour’s first letter from him. Mack was stationed at Camp Lee and was sent to France about six weeks ago.
The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming) 27 Feb 1919, p. 5 -
Mack Barbour, who arrived from Camp Lee, Va., last week, on Tuesday went out to his ranch on Black Thunder to look after his cattle interests.
The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 11 Sept. 1919, p.
Jesse Barbour came up from Dewey last night from which point he made a shipment of cattle to market.
Changes
The Barbours couldn’t have seen it, but there were huge clouds hanging over farms and ranches, particularly in the west. There were also personal clouds. A headline from Coffeyville began to tell that story: “Harry Barbour Very Low.” (Coffeyville Daily Journal, 12 Sept 1919, p. 2.)
Harry was 20 when his mother and siblings moved to Wyoming. He had no reason to leave; he enjoyed the success to which his family aspired. He was assistant postmaster of Nowata, Oklahoma, a position he held for eight years through Republican and Democratic administrations - significant when it was a political patronage job. He’d resigned from the position to serve in World War I, and when he returned he found a prestigious position as bookkeeper of the Nowata National Bank. Harry was also a member of the Elks Lodge and the Knights of Pythias, at a time when fraternal organizations were of great importance. He was regarded as one of the most likable and popular young men in town.
But disaster struck. Harry suffered from a burst appendix, peritonitis set in, and in this pre-antibiotic era, there was little that could be done for him. Alice managed to get to his bedside to be with him at the end. He was 28 when he died, and left a 25-year old widow. Alice had now buried three adult sons.
Much has been written about the farm bust of the 1920s. Farming has always been a challenging way to make a living, of course. But in the 1920s there were major changes that made it even harder. In the late teens, homesteaders and laborers alike left for the warfront, drafted or voluntarily. Others left to take well-paying industrial jobs in the cities. Overproduction, a severe drop in farm prices, debt and drought caused a crisis, especially in the west. From 1919 to 1920, for example, the price of corn plunged from $1.30 a bushel to 47 cents. They were actually ranchers, of course, and their "crop" was in livestock, both cattle and horses.
Alice and her sons did not give up right away, but there were many factors out of their control.
On her own in Washington state, Edna had a fourth marriage to the man named Burt Schrock. They married in September 1918; by January 1920 they were enumerated separately on the census, though the marriage probably ended months before. January 3, 1920, “Burt” was living with his parents in Spokane, working as a real estate dealer and identified as single. Edna Barbour, head of household, divorced, was enumerated January 19 at 260 Eleventh Avenue in Seattle. She made a living as a typewriter saleswoman.
In early June, she decided to rejoin her mother. “Miss Edna Barbour is official stenographer at the office of the Blind Pool and Julius Williams Oil companies, during the absence of Miss Bertha Gries, who is visiting at Columbus, Mont.,” the Newcastle News-Journal reported. The newspaper said Edna was selling her civil service school in Seattle to work as official stenographer in a Newcastle oil company. Reforms meant civil service jobs were no longer patronage jobs. They were steady, secure employment with decent pay. Civil service schools that purported to give candidates a hiring edge sprang up across the country.
Office Work
Statistics on clerical work give insights into a changing society. Until the twentieth century clerical work was done almost exclusively by men, mostly in small, paternalistic, family-run businesses. The first commercial typewriters were introduced in 1874 but did not become commonplace in offices until after Edna was born in 1884. Census data from 1880 show that 154 people nationwide were employed as typists, 96 percent of them men. In 1910 as Edna was entering the business world, there were 112,600 typists, 77 percent of whom were women.
Much has been written on the feminization of office work, and “pink collar” jobs. In 1910, most women who engaged in paid work were domestics or factory workers. Clerical workers had to be literate and numerate, and many positions required special skills often acquired in business colleges, such as shorthand, typing, bookkeeping and stenography. So in spite of low pay, clerical work had a cache to it. The hours were shorter than domestic, farm and factory labor. This was dignified, genteel work in a clean work environment, considered respectable enough for “nice girls.” As Sharon Hartman Strom makes clear, “office jobs were the best jobs available to women between 1900 and 1930. Women understood this and made rational choices for the future by investing in commercial education and taking office jobs.”
In short, there was higher social status to office work than most other options open to women. As social historians England and Boyer said, “Clerical workers could set themselves apart from, and as superior to, most other women workers.”
“Indeed,” they concluded, “ being a typist or stenographer or more generally a ‘business girl’ became emblematic of an exciting new urban womanhood: the sophisticated, independent working girl who enjoyed the relative freedom of being away from the watchful eyes of her parents, working in the heart of bustling downtown, often in the shiny skyscrapers.”
Edna was definitely a “New Woman.”
Leaving Wyoming
Wyoming offered a lot to the Barbours, but it was a way station. It was a fresh start; it was opportunity; it was free land for those willing to work hard. It was also impossible. When the farm crisis hit in the 1920s, it was no longer feasible to make a go of it. Besides, Edna and Jesse already made their living in clerical work and did not want to be grubbing on a ranch.
When Edna’s fourth marriage failed and she moved back to Wyoming to live with her mother, her sojourn wasn’t long. She worked in the oil company office for ten months, then left Wyoming for good. Newspaper items again shed a light on the family’s doings:
The News-Journal, 28 Oct 1920, p. 10 -
Mack Barbour [and list of other names] made up a shipment of twenty-eight cars of cattle last week and shipped to Omaha. Those who accompanied the shipment returned home Saturday.
Miss Edna Barbour had business which called her to Hot Springs last Saturday.
The News Letter (Wyoming), 7 April 1921, p. 5 -
Miss Edna Barbour left last evening for Seattle, Washington where she has accepted a position with the Corona Typewriter Company. Miss Barbour was formerly in the employ of the Julius Williams Oil and Refining Co.
The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 7 April 1921, p. 3 -
Miss Edna Barbour left yesterday evening for Seattle where she will assume the position of assistant manager of the Corona Typewriter Company. Miss Barbour has been engaged in Newcastle for the past few months in a stenographic capacity.
The News Letter (Wyoming), 25 May 1922, p.
NOTICE FOR PUBLICATION
Department of the Interior, U.S. Land Office at Newcastle, Wyoming,
May 17, 1922.
Notice is hereby given that Alice Barbour of Newcastle, Wyoming
who on Oct, 17, 1921, made Additional Stock Raising Homestead Entry for (location)
has filed notice of intention to make Final Three Year Proof to establish claim to the land above described, Dorothy E. Shank, United States Commissioner at Newcastle, Wyoming on the 22nd day of June.
The News Letter (Wyoming), 25 May 1922, p.
NOTICE FOR PUBLICATION
Department of the Interior, U.S. Land Office at Newcastle, Wyoming,
May 17, 1922.
Notice is hereby given that Alice Barbour of Newcastle Wyoming
who on Oct, 17, 1921, made Additional Stock Raising Homestead Entry for (location)
has filed notice of intention to make Final Three Year Proof to establish claim to the land above described, Dorothy E. Shank, United States Commissioner at Newcastle, Wyoming on the 22nd day of June.
Alice was 65 when she proved up her claim. She had her small Civil War veteran’s widows pension but Social Security did not yet exist.
The newspaper trail grows cold outside of Wyoming. Big-city newspapers did not print the minutiae of people’s lives as the small-town papers did. Even deaths rendered barely a line or two. But there are records. Jesse married in Denver in 1923 to a woman named Dorothy. It was his second marriage as he married in Seattle in 1913 at age 20.
Edna married her fifth husband, John Sydney Ward, in California in 1925. On the 1930 census, Edna lived in Los Angeles with her husband and both worked as real estate agents. This was the marriage that lasted until Edna’s death, and this was the occupation she stuck with for the remainder of her working life. Jesse and Dorothy also lived in Los Angeles where he worked as the manager of the Clift Hotel. In 1924 Alice suffered a mild stroke and went to live with Jesse.
Alice died in Los Angeles in December 1932. She was survived by only three of her seven children - Edna, Jesse and Mack, the latter of whom was living in Kingman, Arizona. She had seven grandchildren, all by her daughter Clara, all of whom were back in Kansas and whom she probably had rarely seen. Edna and Jesse never had children. The four children Lucius and Alice had would produce only one grandchild, born late in Mack’s life. She was given the middle name Edna.
In 1938 Jesse was convicted of second degree burglary and sentenced to a term in San Quentin. Jesse was first arrested for burglary in 1935. In 1938 he was arrested on two counts of burglary and given a sentence of from one to fifteen years in San Quentin. In his booking photo, he looks strikingly like his father, an older version of the Civil War soldier. His second marriage was over. One wonders what made him desperate enough suddenly, at a late stage in life, to begin stealing. It is very sad. He was enumerated at the prison on the 1940 census. In April 1942 he filled out a draft registration card showing he worked at the Lankershim Hotel and listed Edna as his contact. He died that December at age 49.
Mack continued to work with horses and cattle all his life. He had a career as a rodeo rider, then manager of his own rodeo show in Oregon and California. His only marriage was in August 1955 when he was 59, and a divorce was granted in January 1956. He died in Sacramento in 1967.
Edna died in June 1968 at age 84 and was buried in Mendocino County. She was survived by her husband.
Afterword: When I was a young teen, I asked my grandmother why they moved from Oklahoma to Wyoming. It didn’t seem like a random move, a widower and single parent with six kids, suddenly moving to Wyoming. She said they had relatives there, that her father’s crops failed two years in a row, and he wanted to get a fresh start elsewhere. Who were the relatives? She didn’t name names or get into details - an aunt and some cousins, but I wasn't more curious to press for specifics at the time.
Decades later and long after Grandma was gone, I wondered again - who were these relatives? I understand uprooting and trying for a fresh start elsewhere, but why Wyoming?
It took me a long time to find the “Charlie Connection” - Alice’s son working for the U.S. Geological Survey in Wyoming, Charlie’s fascination with the country and Charlie settling there. And Alice. I didn’t know any of these people existed. I knew nothing beyond my great-grandparents. So I had never heard the name of my third great-grandfather, Myron Fitch Barbour and his will that in effect left his children nothing and rendered Alice and her children homeless….I didn’t know of the impact of the Homestead Act in the family - still a thing in several Western states after the turn of the century…or Clyde’s relationship with his aunt, who I believe was an important motherly figure in his life.
I went through my grandmother’s photo albums with her when I was a young adult and asked her to identify everyone. There was one picture of a middle-aged woman and an older woman. “That’s my Aunt Alice and cousin Edna,” Grandma said. Edna sent her a Christmas card and the occasional letter until she died.
One day around 2012, after I’d learned so much about the family, a woman contacted me who told me she was Lucius and Alice’s granddaughter. Out of respect for her privacy I’ll leave her name out here, but I was astounded. A Civil War veteran’s grandchild! Edna was her aunt, and though they didn’t live near each other and she didn’t see Aunt Edna often, they did have a relationship. Edna died when this granddaughter was about 19, and she never had a chance to discuss family history with her. She knew little, but what she remembered was that she thought Edna was kind, as my grandmother did. They appreciated that she had an interest in them.
So many events lead to our existence. Lucius Barbour’s death…Myron F.’s will….Alice losing the Fawn Creek farm….Alice losing her Dearing home in a fire…Charlie’s geological survey work…the Homestead acts…the fire that killed my great-grandmother Melissa…the crop failure….the relationships….it all led to my great-grandfather, Clyde Banta Barbour, moving to Newcastle, Wyoming. Unlike Alice and her sons, he was done with farming and ranching. He wanted no part of it and did not file for a claim. He supported his children working as a house painter and paperer.
Footnote: It was much more common in the past that it is today to have family intermarriages, such as two brothers marrying two sisters, or two cousins marrying siblings. This isn’t quite like that, but here’s my trivia fact. Peter Hoover was Alice’s first husband. His sister Barbara was married to Lucius’ cousin Charles Barber. It’s possible that Lucius met Alice through this connection. He lived in Kosciusko County, as did Charles and Barbara, while Alice and Peter lived in Marshall County.
Sources:
Newspapers:
“The High School Bill,” The Marion Register (Marion, Kansas), 11 Feb 1886, p. 1.
“A Day in Court,” Topeka Daily Capital, 14 June 1887, p. 4.
Brunette of four summers: Coffeyville Weekly Journal (Coffeyville, Kansas), 22 Sept 1888, p. 4.
Visit to Texas: Coffeyville Weekly Journal, 19 May 1893, p. 5.
“What Is the New Woman?” The Chicago Tribune, 22 Sept 1895, p. 33.
“Montgomery County High School,” Souvenir Edition of the Kansas Populist, (Independence, Kansas), 16 March 1900, p. 1-18.
Nees, S.N. “High School As the End of School Life,” The Kansas Populist (Independence, Kansas), 16 March 1900, p. 17.
Dollison, J.N. “Effect of High School on the Common Schools,” The Kansas Populist (Independence, Kansas), 16 March 1900, p. 17.
The Great Western Normal School and Business College. Account in Some Completeness of the Remarkable Characteristics of Webb City’s Great School,” Webb City Register (Webb City, Missouri), 21 April 1904, p. 1.
“Took Trunk Loads of Goods. K & H Drugstore is Looted By a Clerk and a Whilom Oil Producer - Men Escaped With Their Plunder,” Coffeyville Daily Record, 4 Feb 1905, p. 1.
“Drug Theft Plot Thickens,” Coffeyville Daily Record, 5 Feb 1905, p. 1.
Fake Oil Leases: Chetopa Clipper (Chetopa, Kansas), 9 Feb 1905, p. 4.
“Frank Bangs Returns,” Coffeyville Daily Record, 17 Feb 1905, p. 1.
“Webb City Business College,” The Grove Sun (Grove, Oklahoma )10 March 1905, p. 3.
“Taken a Homestead,” The Dearing Times (Dearing, Kansas), 2 March 1911, p. 1.
Charlie “Very Low”: Coffeyville Weekly Journal, 3 Mar 1911, p. 8.
“Obituary,” The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 23 June 1911, p. 1.
Harry Visits: The News-Journal (Newcastle), 25 Aug 1911, p. 5
Alice to Spend Summer in Seattle: The News-Journal (Newcastle), 8 June 1916, p. 5.
“Filings On Land,” The News-Journal (Newcastle), 11 Jan 1917, p. 1.
“Visits Mother Here,” The News-Journal (Newcastle), 3 May 1917, p. 4.
Edna Returns to Newcastle: The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 3 June 1920, p. 2.
Left for Seattle: The News-Journal (Newcastle), 7 April 1921, p. 3.
Edna to Sell School: The News-Journal (Newcastle, Wyoming), 17 June 1920, p.
Mack Ships Cattle: The News-Journal, 28 Oct 1920, p. 10
Accepts Position With Corona: The News Letter (Wyoming), 7 April 1921, p. 5
“Notice of Publication,” The News Letter (Newcastle, Wyoming), 25 May 1922, p.
Other:
Bradsher, Greg. “How the West Was Settled - The 150-Year Old Homestead Act Lured Americans Looking For a New Life and New Opportunities,” Prologue Magazine, https://www.archives.gov/files/publications/prologue/2012/winter/homestead.pdf
Cassity, Michael. “A Brief History of Wyoming Homesteading, Ranching and Farming: 1860-1960,” Wyoming State Historic Preservation Office, Wyoming State Parks and Cultural Resources,” 2010, https://wyoshpo.wyo.gov/homestead/pdf/brief_narrative_072410.pdf
England, Kim and Kate Boyer. “Women’s Work: The Feminization and Shifting Meanings of Clerical Work,” Journal of Social History, Vol. 43 No. 2 (Winter 2009), pp. 307-340.
Groth, Paul. Living Downtown, The History of Residential Hotels in the U.S. Berkley, California: University of California Press, 1994.
Maloni, Ruby. “Dissonance Between Norms and Behavior: Early Twentieth Century America’s New Woman,” Proceedings of the Indian History Conference, Vol. 70 (2009), pp. 880-886.
Marriner, Gerald L. “The Feminist Revolt: The Emergence of the New Woman in the Early Twentieth Century,” Humboldt Journal of Social Relations, Vol. 1 No. 2 (Spring/Summer 1974), pp. 127-134.
Smith, Sherry L. “Single Women Homesteaders: The Perplexing Case of Elinore Pruitt Stewart,” Western Historical Quarterly, Vol. 22 No. 2 (Mat 1991), pp. 163-183.
Stewart, Eleanor Pruitt. Letters of a Woman Homesteader, Boston and New York: Houghton Mifflin, 1913 and 1914 by the Atlantic Monthly Co., 1914.
“Snell Business College,” The Scenic Lines Employees’ Magazine Official Railroad Journal of Denver & Rio Grande-Western Pacific, Volume 8, 1916.
Waters, Rick. “Long Ago, the TCU School of Medicine - More than a century ago, Horned Frogs Studied to Become Doctors at the University’s Own Medical School,” TCU Magazine, https://magazine.tcu.edu/fall-2013/long-ago-tcu-school-medicine/
“Webb City Business College History,” Jasper County, Missouri Schools, https://www.jaspercountyschools.org/
“Wyoming Homesteading Timeline,” Wyoming State Historic Preservation Office, Historic ContextWyoming Homesteading, Ranching and Farming: 1860-1960, https://wyoshpo.wyo.gov/homestead/timeline.html
Note: See the following blog posts for more on Lucius Taylor Barbour’s life:
“Lucius Gets a Pension” (January 2023)
“Going to Coffeyville: The Barbour Brother’s Second Chance” (April 2023)
“Lucius Taylor Barbour and the Keeley Treatment.” (December 2022)
In “The Ladies’ Waiting Room” I discuss the respectable middle-class view of women’s role in her “separate sphere,” and the cult of Domesticity. (May 2023)
In “The Four Divorces of Myron C. Barbour” (January 2023) I discuss the legal grounds for divorce in Kansas during the time the Barbours lived there.
For more on the rise of business colleges see “The Little College That Could…But Somehow Didn’t.” (February 2023)
Copyright by Andrea Auclair ©
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