The quiet comfort of being alone on the move, with the sense of security offered by a saddle, were seemingly attractive to 

cattle drivers heading north from Texas in the second half of the 19th century.

Ostensibly, it was a lonely and poorly paid job, conducted in tough conditions, and while the cowtowns at the end of the road

offered every vice, the original cowboy’s life delivered little consistent joy. The life imbalances are easier to consume in a modern Taylor Sheridan production than they were when lived out for real.

Louis L’Amour- the doyen of contemporary Western novels - believed that the self-image of the first cowboys was influenced by the “code of the cavalier” that emerged in 19th century writers such as Sir Walter Scott. The commitment to duty, and the sense of pride that became integral to the lore of the frontier cowboys, came from somewhere and L’Amour suggests that

it came from stories and folklore passed down the ages.

If he was right, novels such as Ivanhoe have played a material role in the evolution of Americana. The early cowboys were rough, wanderlust characters often possessing no moral compass, but they had a code of honor that history now looks fondly on and this has propelled the cowboy image from a shiftless, unkempt character to the noble good guy and most enduring symbol of the United States.

That extraordinary shift in perception is here to stay and that works for me. To spend time with proper cowboys - as we often do in West Texas - is to immerse oneself in a culture with duty, manners and commitment at its heart. Over and above that, to watch a cattle drive live, in its birthplace, is one of the great spectacles I know.