Jumping Off for for the Overland Trail: Westport, Kansas

There were three major "jumping off" places for the Overland Trail: St. Joseph, Independence and Council Bluffs.  Each is situated on the eastern side of the wide, muddy Missouri River, the dividing line between the United States and the Unknown.

But there was another jumping off place, slightly south and west of the others, used primarily by emigrants from the southern half of the United States: Westport, Kansas.  Westport was the northern terminus of all known trails from the south: the Santa Fee Trail and the "Texas Road" or "Shawnee Trail" taken by my ancestors, Pleasant & Mike Gray, from their home town of Huntsville, Texas, near Houston.  In 1849 there were no well established southern trails to California.  Of necessity, you went north 650 miles to Westport, only then to turn West for another 2,000 miles.

Westport, 1849-1860

Diarists of the day invariably describe the jumping off places as bustling towns with throngs of overanxious gold seekers. Historians estimate that no less than 40,000 emigrants bought their oxen, mules, wagons and supplies in Westport alone in the years 1848-1850.  Here is the scene described by the early historian of the Western expansion, Francis Parkman, who outfitted in Westport in 1846 for a trek on the Santa Fe trail:

"Westport was full of Indians, whose little, shaggy ponies were tied by the dozen along the houses and fences. Sacs and Foxes, with shaved heads and painted faces; Shawnees and Delawares fluttering in calico frocks and turban; Wyandottes dressed like white men, and a few wretched Kausas wrapped in old blankets, were strolling about the streets or lounging in and out of the shops and homes....Whiskey, by the way, circulates more freely in Westport than is altogether safe in a place where everyman carries a loaded pistol in his pocket."

KeeKhesWa, Fox Indian Chief

Westport was a southern town by sympathy.  The basement of the mercantile store that provisioned most emigrants was used as a warehouse for slaves sold at auction in the nearby town square.  At the axis of East-West and North-South, Westport was an early flashpoint in the Civil War, quickly captured by the Union.  From there the town went into decline, eventually absorbed by Kansas City.  

Today there are a few relic buildings along the main drag of Westport, most built in the early 1850s, including the brick mercantile buildings of town founder John Calvin McCoy and early fur trapper Jim Bridger.  Swiss born John Sutter, later of Sutter's Fort fame, got his start here -- although he fled town in 1837 for California after his double-dealings in real estate and over-extended credit lines were discovered by town merchants and would-be residents.

Located next to Westport Road, where the emigrants provisioned themselves, is present-day Pioneer Park with a bronze statue in honor of three of the town's prominent citizens: McCoy, Bridger and Alexander Majors, founder of the short-lived but glamorous Pony Express line (which had its headquarters in Westport).  

Standing by myself in Pioneer Park, looking out to the West as the figures in the statue are, all I see are the asphalt streets, cars and modern businesses.  It's easy to see how quickly all things fade, even the tremendous energy and effort bound up in the largest recorded exodus of humanity anywhere in the world at the time....

Ah, but what do I find?   Another lost soul, like me, lurking around the statue.  It is the direct descendant, fifth great grandson, of Westport's founder, John Calvin McCoy.  Here he is, Wyatt Phister, on a pilgrimage from Anchorage, Alaska: 

Wyatt Phister with his 5x great grandfather, founder of Westport, John Calvin McCoy

Diagonally from the bronze statue in Pioneer Park along Westport Road is the parking lot of a World Market store.  Underneath the asphalt is the old Westport "watering place," used by emigrant, ox and mule alike.  Every wagon company provisioning in Westport would use this pond.  No doubt my ancestors, Pleasant Gray, Mike Gray and his future wife Sarah Ann Robinson Gray, all drank from this source.  Perhaps Mike, 22, and Sarah, 19, first saw each other here.

So, I parked my "steed" in the parking lot and got out my gallon jug of water drawn from a beautiful spring in Humbug Valley, California -- very near the self-same Lassen Trail these ancestors took to enter the state.   I drank a toast to them and poured a bit of this water on to the asphalt so that it would seep down and join the Westport water, the beginning and the end of the trail.

My steed at World Market parking lot--Westport "Watering Place." Diagonal splash is Humbug spring water....