The farm wagon was an old workhorse that had seen better years. It still had its wooden wheels, and its black paint had deep chips and scratches but was mostly intact.
The wagon was perhaps the largest item for sale in the back lot of the auction house, and when I came across it I stopped to look it over. But the wagon itself was not the only thing that broke my stride. Protruding from its bed was a hand-written sign:
“Goose and Apple Gourds $3 each.”
At some point in this wagon’s life, its owner peddled gourds to perhaps make a little money. I was reminded of the half-dozen or so gourds that I bought years ago at a small crafts show way out on a farm in the suburbs. They were gourds with long curved necks and round bodies that once were green but had been dried for folks like me to transform into decorative craft objects. Some at the show had already been painted and were ready for sale. I never got around to painting any of mine.
I suspect that the gourds for sale on the wagon were dried, too.
When the auctioneer finally got around to selling the wagon, I wondered who on earth would buy it and what they’d do with it.
“This is a good hay wagon,” the auctioneer suggested, offering his own take on how it could be used. It was a good idea for some farmer interested in selling autumn harvest rides for children. I hadn’t thought of that.
“It has steps and a brake,” the auctioneer added. Then he got the bidding started at $1,000. The group of auction-goers who had followed him from item to item stood silent. Someone in the crowd apparently said $200, and he called out the bid. Next, he asked for $225.
“There are no farmers here?” he asked. Soon, another auction-goer took the bid. Next, $230, and the wagon finally sold.
Surprisingly to me, I found through Googling that antique farm wagons are collectible and have their share of collectors. Several sites waxed nostalgic about how they represented a simpler time, offering a sense of community, belonging, hopes and dreams. Simpler and good times are relative, because these old wagons also depict hardscrabble times for many people living on farms where back-breaking work was a given.
Farm wagons were made by many manufacturers, including John Deere, which got its start making wooden wagons in 1881. Most of us are familiar with what’s called the Conestoga wagon from all of those old western movies. They’re the ones with the arched canvas covering that were always part of a long wagon train.
One of the most interesting were box wagons, with sides that made them look like a box. They also have some history that is not farm-related.
In the summer of 1867, they served as cover for U.S. soldiers and woodcutters in what is known as the Wagon Box Fight along the Bozeman Trail in Wyoming.
At the time, Native Americans were angry that the United States had built forts on their land and were determined to drive them out. The government wanted the trail open as a route to gold mines in Montana. Chief Red Cloud and 1,000 Sioux warriors attacked a group of 32 soldiers and woodcutters camped near Fort Phil Kearny. The men took cover in wagon boxes (box wagons without wheels) and held off the Sioux until help arrived from the fort.
The government considered this a victory and contended that the Sioux lost more warriors in the fight. Although stronger in numbers, the Sioux with their bows and arrows, lances, war clubs and a few guns were up against more firepower in the rapid-firing rifles used by the soldiers.
A year later the forts were abandoned when other routes opened up and the Sioux got their land back. They learned, however, that they needed better weapons. By the time of Little Big Horn in 1876, they had them.
The site of the Wagon Box Fight – a meadow today – is now an historic site.
