Lighter than Air, Stronger than Whiskey, and Cheaper than Dirt
These words are first attributed to barbed wire salesman John Warne Gates on the square in front of the Alamo, San Antonio, Texas in 1877, where he was hawking barbed wire as the only practical substitute for stone, wood, and mud fences on the prairie. The only viable competitor for barbed wire was a thorny hedge, the most popular being Osage orange, native to Texas and Arkansas. Export of its seed was an early competing enterprise as thorny fence salesman also roamed the plains extolling the thorny fence as “pig tight, horse high, and bull strong.” The history of the distribution of Osage orange on the plains is fascinating and the topic for another blog.
Why talk about barbed wire on a conservation site? You’ve probably walked wire fence rows that, until recently, crisscrossed the state, protecting linear habitat for prairie plants and smaller critters including voles and monarchs. Birds, especially blue jays, will gorge themselves on seeds and go sit on a fence line (prairie high ground) to preen and do what birds do best. In due time, the seeds emerge encapsulated in pellets for a good start on life along the fence. Blue jays also like to fly fence lines and will cache between 3,000 and 5,000 acorns in a season along the way. These will sprout and frequently become embed in a fence to create a tree line as well as cover for diverse sub-story vegetation. According to your favorite blogger, Lon Drake, loggers are very reluctant to fell trees on fence lines because of imbedded wire. Thus, barbed wire is a de facto guardian of habitat. It has a history and, hopefully, the next time you see a fence row, you will look at the anchor as well as the vegetation.
Ironically, the development of barbed wire was not an attempt to keep animals contained but to keep them distant from homesteads where they were a major irritation to wives. At the DeKalb County, Illinois, fair in 1873 a farmer displayed boards with nails driven through them which he hung on a wire fence to dissuade particularly ‘breachy’ cows. Joseph Glidden liked the exhibit because he had similar cow/garden problems. However, he thought that a fence with points rather than a prickly attachment would be an improvement. He used a coffee grinder to bend wire barbs which he then slid onto the garden’s wire. This was not successful because the barbs would slide upon contact with bovines. The solution was simple – use two strands of wire and twist them to keep barbs evenly spaced. Glidden patented this concept in 1873 and, with a partnership, began its manufacture. It was an instant success and other entrepreneurs wanted in on the action. Competing patents emerged and a design race was on. The National Cowboy and Western Heritage Museum north of Oklahoma City claims to have over 600 different varieties, definitely a testament to American ingenuity.
There are wires with single, double, and triple strands. These are compounded by round, oval, square, and ribbon wires. Single and double strand wire can support spur-like rowels, windmill-like blades (differing shapes and blade numbers), square and rectangular plates with jagged corners. Add two vs. four barbs and imagine the number of different twists and spins on, between, and within wires. Six hundred is a very attainable number. Collectors have a name for each e. g. Corsicana clip, Haish’s “S’, split diamond, snail, necktie, Elwood reverse, and Sunderland kink. Glidden wire, aka the “winner” is still the most common kind of wire in fencing today.
Yes, I have a barbed wire collection. It started in McPherson County, KS while field mapping for a geology dissertation. I had to map on several ranches and knocked on the door of a centrally located one to ask permission. The rancher’s wife was agreeable, warned me about brown recluse spiders in gravel pits and admonished me to close all gates and gaps. I told her that I go under fences not through gates. She was pleased. Subsequent permission requests usually started with “I have been expecting you; you are the guy who does not open gates.” I had learned earlier that ranchers are skeptical of urbanites in general, and students in particular, when it comes to gaps.
At that time, construction of a new fence would add to the taxable value of the property, but repairing a fence did not. Thus, strands and posts were replaced one at a time. Old wire strands were left of the ground next to the fence and generations of replaced wires frequently paralleled the fence line. As a collector at heart and with an interest in taxonomy, it took less than a week to see a unique collecting opportunity. The ranchers soon learned of my interest and I would find old wire on the hood of my car at the end of the day. I was advised to look for old ranch and homestead dumps and to search around family cemeteries. Collapsed dugouts became dumps. I was told that I would be welcome everywhere but to look out for Leon Akers, he was strange. I mapped all around his spread and finally had to knock. Leon lived in a tarpaper covered trailer beside his well- maintained family ranch house. Leon opened the door, smiled and said, “What took you so long to get here; I have something to show you.” We went to his shed and it was stuffed with collectables. There were hub caps, hood ornaments (some still on the car), old guns, knives, license plates, coffee grinders, churns, and yes, barbed wire. We later compared collections and I was pointed to new localities. Was Leon weird? He did not like to dust but wanted to keep the family house so he chose smaller quarters (well-kept inside). He would rather repair an old car than plow. If he had a good (profitable) year, he would travel nationally and internationally the next year rather than ranch.
At the end of the field season, I had collected 16 genera and 31 species of wire. After the field season, I stopped at an antique show in Fort Worth and found a table held by a barbed wire collector. He was not only selling wire but peddled the Barbed Wire Times. So much for my unique collection. I learned that wire was collected in 18 inch lengths. Leon and I were cutting 12 inch pieces. The next summer I returned to McPherson County and my first stop was to inform Leon of our error. Leon said “damn.” We divided our collecting region and re-sampled.
Keep an eye out while hiking/enjoying nature as you may run into an unusual wire, history could be on that fence or lying on the ground. Also give Joseph Glidden a thank you. It was not his intent to preserve habitat but he did provide, as an unintended consequence, for a variety of biological refuges.
Notes:
-Colorado is a “fence out” state, meaning that, if you don’t want someone else’s livestock on your property, it is your responsibility to fence them out. It is not the owner’s responsibility to keep livestock fenced in. In place since the early 1880s, Colorado’s law of the land is different from many regions in the United States. Current Colorado fence law is found in the Colorado Revised Statutes (35-46-101 CRS).
-Bison not hampered by barbed wire and will go through fence and drag it along. Cattle will stay in.
