January 14, 1928
Cora Melton Cross in the Farm News, after paying a glowing tribute to the many known virtues of this veteran cowman, a former prominent citizen of Marfa, tells us briefly, in Mr. Cardwell’s own words, a sketch of his life:
I was born in Gonzales County in 1857. My father was a pioneer stock man of the early fifties, and my mother, both idealistic and practical, a fitting mate for a Texas frontiersman.
The Mexican War was ancient history when I was born, but the aftermath, a seething unrest possessed the settlers partly because of the inability of human beings to readily adapt themselves to changed conditions and again because of the time required by nature to overcome the effect of the horrors of war, together with the realization that such upheavals invariably entrain change of people and pursuits, things were in a state of chaos.
The pioneers who had even a limited amount of money when they came West had invested in cattle and the small surplus remaining after this was done had vanished with the turmoil of war.
This scarcity of dollars continued until news came, by passing from lip to lip, that if Texas cattle could be driven to Kansas they could be sold. The urge was so great that not even a secondary thought was given at the time to hardship and physical sufferings involved. Nothing was considered, excepting a using knowledge of the Chisholm Trail. Needless to say that I at once decided for trail driving when father would permit it. Those days children awaited the consent of the parents for any proposed venture, and I was 21 years old before I realised this one. Even then it was curtailed, for I never did make a full trail drive, although I got in readiness many herds and drove them part of the way up.
Father in the meantime had moved to Caldwell County, where the opportunity came for me to try my hand at working up trail herds for the noted George W. Littlefield. After doing this for some time, and making the short drives to get them started, I decided that drifting along behind a herd was too tame for me and did not fit in with my idea of rapid riding. But I liked rounding up, cutting cattle, and above all, roping and branding, particularly the former. There was a sort of satisfaction in getting together the nucleus for a trill herd, then adding to it until it was complete and ready for starting.
I continued in this line of work until it became necessary for me to go back home and manage the ranch and farm for my parents; this I did until my younger brother was capable of handling it, at which time I turned it over to him, and with the aid I could give him he did it successfully until father and mother died, the one at the age of 85, and the other at 76.
I became fairly expert with the rope and gloried in branding time, when I could try my skill to the utmost. That I have not in the passing years entirely lost the art was demonstrated at the Gonzales Fair last fall, when I won first prize on the second day and third money the third day of the contest. I also roped and successfully tied my calf at the recent contest for old-time cowboys, held during the Old Trail Drivers’ reunion at an Antonio, but lost out on time. No other pastime has ever sent rigors of excitement chasing up and down my spinal column like riding a good roping horse full speed and dropping the lop over the head of a steer. A bucking bronco isn’t in the same class.
Getting back to the old days. I moved from Caldwell County back to Gonzales and combined real estate with my cattle business. These interests prospered for me, and I have nothing to complain of. Of course, I have made mistakes, that is but human, I suppose, but in a way have been successful; and above all I have these many years enjoyed and retained good-fellowship with the cowmen whom it has been my privilege to know and work with. After some pleasurable and profitable years in Gonzales I moved to Marfa, where I entered into Iike business and continued there for ten years.