Resilient, determined, and independent-minded…know any Texas women like that? The frontier may be closed, but its tenacious spirit lives on in the steely will of the Texas woman. Her fortitude was forged in a rugged landscape of lawless borderlands and remote homesteads, where survival demanded self-reliance and tradition taught grace under pressure. Life was harsh and unforgiving, and no place more so than on the Chisholm Trail.
Between 1867 and 1884, over five million longhorns traveled from Texas ranches to Kansas railheads via the Chisholm Trail. Women faced the same dangers as men on the 800-mile cattle drive, and then some. Along with perilous river crossings, stampedes, and storms — they were burdened with suspicion, social stigma, and child care. And they did it all in petticoats.
Countless wives and daughters joined the cattle drives, and history has forgotten most of their names. But not all. Meet five tough women who defied expectations to travel the Chisholm Trail and whose moxie helped to shape the story of Texas.
AMANDA BURKS: True Grit
The first documented woman to head north on the Chisholm Trail, Amanda Burks set off with her husband in April 1871 to drive “4,000 beeves” to Abilene, Kansas, from Cotulla in South Texas. A real-deal cowgirl, the 30-year-old rounded up and branded cattle, helped with camp chores, and drove her own buggy.
One cowboy noted she “was with us all the time, going through all the storms, the mud, and dangers of the trail without a murmur. She often gave the boys coffee and kind words when they came off herd, and the boys all respected and admired her.”
Storms left the biggest impression on Amanda, who wrote about them decades later. “Some of the worst electrical and hailstorms I have ever witnessed were in [North Texas]. The lightning seemed to settle on the ground and creep along like something alive. It would run up the wagon tongue and over the covers, frightening the cattle and men alike.”
After selling their herd in Kansas, the couple returned to ranch life in Texas. Amanda took over ranch operations following her husband’s death six years later, expanding the property and trading cattle for another 50 years.
HATTIE CLUCK: One Tough Mother
“I wasn’t afraid,” said Hattie Cluck. “I could ride as well as any man.” It’s easy to imagine plucky Hattie Cluck setting her jaw, putting her foot down, and insisting to her husband: “I’m going with you, and that’s that.” The 25-year-old hit the trail from Round Rock in 1871, but she didn’t wrangle any steers. She was too busy wrangling a toddler and a 5-year-old — and being several months pregnant.
“I rode horseback all the way and crossed the Red River on horseback,” she said. River crossings could be deadly on cattle drives, and the Red River was at flood stage when Hattie arrived. She handed each child to a cowboy and rode across the muddy, fast-flowing waters. By the time Hattie, her kids, and the herd reached the river’s opposite banks, the powerful current had carried them a mile downstream from where they started. The crew later had to fend off bandits but reached Kansas safely, where Hattie gave birth that October.
Later in the 1930s, interest in the cattle drives peaked, and writers clamored to interview Hattie, now in her 80s. They turned her memories into tall tales and birthed the legend of Hattie Cluck, a bronco-busting crack shot (the best in Texas) who fought off Indians with the courage of Joan of Arc. Sensationalism aside, Hattie’s story speaks to the strength and endurance of mothers everywhere. “I cooked for the outfit and took care of my children as best I could. There were hardships, but we made it.”
MARGARET BORLAND: Boss Babe
When Margaret Borland drove 2,500 longhorns up the Chisholm Trail in 1886, the 49-year-old grandmother had already been battle-tested by tragedy. Born in Ireland, Margaret immigrated to America at age 5. Her father was killed shortly afterward during the Texas Revolution — possibly at the Goliad Massacre, according to family lore. Her first husband died in a pistol duel, her second husband died of cholera, and her third husband died in a yellow fever epidemic that also killed five of her children. Welcome to the frontier.
Each of Margaret’s husbands had been in the ranching business, and by 1873 the three-time widow owned a sizable ranch and 10,000 cattle, the largest herd in Victoria, Texas. That same year, she became the only woman in U.S. history to personally run a cattle drive, managing the trail crew and handling all the logistics. Her three living children (out of nine born) and a 6-year-old granddaughter came along. Margaret successfully drove 2,500 cattle to Kansas, but she didn’t get to enjoy the profits. She died one month later from “trail fever” and “congestion of the brain,” the final calamity in this trailblazing Texan’s hard-knock life.
MOLLIE BUNTON: Newlywed on the Trail
The daughter of a successful Austin doctor, Mary Taylor “Mollie” Bunton was raised in luxury and educated in New York City’s most exclusive schools. But this society belle had a mind of her own. Eschewing Austin’s wealthy bachelors, she married a West Texas cowboy in late 1885 and moved to his ranch in Sweetwater. She learned to hunt and shocked the ranch hands by riding horses in fancy new boots — and breeches, which women just didn’t wear.
Right before the spring cattle drive began, a crisis erupted: The trail boss was struck blind. Unable to find a replacement, Mollie’s husband decided to lead the 5,000-strong herd himself. But Mollie wasn’t about to be stuck at home. She pleaded to go, and her husband relented, assuming she’d only last a day or two. Mollie had other plans. Confident she would reach Kansas, the 26-year-old packed an evening dress to wear upon arrival.
Mollie later wrote about her adventures in her memoir, “A Bride on the Old Chisholm Trail.” “The wind was always blowing, and the dust never settled. Sometimes it seemed the very sky was filled with cattle and grit. My teeth crunched with it.” Like Amanda, she was captivated by storms: “Sometimes the lightning would fall from the sky in fiery darts of flame; again, there would be a flash, and it would look as if millions of fairies in glittering robes of fire were dancing in mad glee over the backs of the cattle and jumping from the horns of one steer to another.”
She killed a rattlesnake with her fishing pole and “much squeamishness,” cutting off its rattles and earning some cred with the cowboys. “Most of them were good-natured and considerate, but their speech was full of slang and oaths. I learned to overlook it.” With her two horses (Darling and Beautiful), Mollie made it to Kansas after three months on the trail — where she wore her beautiful ballgown, just as she knew she would.
LIZZIE JOHNSON WILLIAMS: Businesswoman Extraordinaire
Lizzie Johnson Williams was ahead of her time. As a young Austin schoolteacher with a whip-sharp mind, she wrote fiction (anonymously) for a national magazine and kept books for local cattle barons. Seeing the money they made, Lizzie invested in livestock and registered her own brand in 1871. She was 31 and unmarried, and two days later, she purchased her first parcel of land. It wouldn’t be the last.
Slowly accumulating land and longhorns, Lizzie’s assets had grown substantially eight years later when she married Hezekiah Williams. She insisted on a prenup to retain control of her finances and property, which was almost unheard of…and a fantastic idea. Hezekiah lacked her business acumen, and she frequently bailed him out of debt and bad deals, even paying a $50,000 ransom after he was kidnapped in Cuba.
But Lizzie loved “the old buzzard,” and the couple made three trips up the Chisholm Trail, riding together in a buggy but keeping their herds separate. After he died, she lived so frugally in a tiny Austin apartment that people assumed she was poor — until her death revealed $250,000 in assets, including diamonds hidden on her properties across Central Texas. Now in Fort Worth’s National Cowgirl Museum & Hall of Fame, she’s known as the Cattle Queen of Texas.
Whether they roped horses, traded cattle, or kept children alive on the Chisholm Trail — all these women bucked convention by riding out in a man’s world that expected them to stay home. Their legacy of guts and grit endures today in the soul of the Lone Star State. So, the next time a Texas woman sets her jaw and puts her foot down, remember that she’s in good company with the formidable frontier women who came before.