Restoring an 1800’s Farm Wagon
When my wife and I purchased the property adjacent to Hiddencroft Vineyards in 2011, I was surprised to find the remnants of an old farm wagon beneath a Virginia white pine tree. The remains were sparse: just the front and rear axles with wooden spoked wheels and hubs supporting mid-1900s metal rims. Old truck and tractor tires had been mounted on the rims—and two still held air.
My mind flooded with questions: How old was the wagon? What had it looked like? How big was the original bed? Were the wheels commercially made or retrofitted?
I was fairly certain the wagon had been there since the Comphers—a family of German descent—owned the property, from 1868 until 1968. These questions lingered in the back of my mind but were soon pushed aside by the daily demands of winery life.
Several years later, I was giving Billy Compher a tour of his great-grandparents’ homeplace. He shared a story passed down through generations: During the Civil War, a Confederate unit camped in the orchard. As an aside, the Comphers appear to have been Union sympathizers, so they couldn’t have been pleased. When the soldiers moved on, they left behind a wooden wagon. It was not operational, but the wheels were sound. The Comphers, with their German ingenuity, removed the wooden wheels and rehydrated them by soaking them in Dutchman’s Creek. Could these be the very wheels now resting beneath the Virginia pine? I knew then I wanted to restore the old wagon, despite the many unanswered questions.
A few months later, Billy returned with his family’s farm ledger. It recorded everything bought, sold, and sometimes stolen between 1875 and the 1950s. The ledger was started by his great-grandfather, John W. Compher.
After many hours poring over it, I struck gold at the bottom of page ten, titled “Property bought 1875.” There, John W. Compher had written a formula for calculating the number of bushels of corn a wagon could carry—his wagon. The formula used the length, width, and height of the wagon bed. Eureka! I now had dimensions to guide the reconstruction.
John W. Compher’s formula, in his own hand, 1875.
At the top of that same page was an entry for a wagon bought at the “C. Tritapoe sale.” Logic suggested he was a neighbor. While researching Civil War history in the Lovettsville area, I found a book: History of the Independent Loudoun Virginia Rangers by Briscoe Goodhart.
Goodhart had served in the Loudoun Rangers—the only Union unit raised in Virginia—and later wrote a book listing each ranger, their service details, and life afterward. Among them was Charles Tritapoe from Lovettsville, VA. He moved to Illinois in 1875 and was married to Ann Elizabeth Compher.
It seemed possible that the wagon parts under my pine tree were purchased at his moving sale—making them Civil War era.
April 29, 1875 – Bought at C. Tritapoe Sale: 1 Wagon
With this information, I resolved to reconstruct the wagon as it might have last appeared on the Compher farm.
PART 2 – RESEARCH & PROCESS
I disassembled the remaining fragments and began searching online for images of antique wooden wagons. I focused first on the spoked wheels to determine their age and origin. I found wooden wheels with wooden spokes and hubs, some with metal hubs—but none with wooden hubs and metal rims.
I hypothesized that my wooden hub, metal-rimmed, rubber-tired wheels had been a retrofit—possibly done by the Compher family, a blacksmith, or a wheelwright. I removed a deflated tire and discovered the spokes had been cut and screwed to the rim from the inside using old flathead screws. Definitely a retrofit.
Reconstruction would be tricky—determining which parts were missing and locating replacements. I studied wagon diagrams from Studebaker, Western Wagon, and Wagner Wagon, gaining an understanding of key components: wheels, axles, sand board, hounds, bolsters, bolster stakes, reach, hound braces, tongue, hardware, and wagon bed.
Basic Wooden Wagon Chassis Diagram
I had four usable wheels with hubs, one good axle, a reach socket, and two good hound braces. The rest would need to be sourced or fabricated.
Then, I stumbled upon a three-year-old post from an antique dealer just 45 miles away listing two bolsters with stakes and an axle. Though skeptical, I saved the URL. Weeks later, I revisited the post and thought, “What the heck—nothing ventured, nothing gained.” To my surprise, the parts were still available!
I spent a pleasant afternoon exploring American Antiques in Taneytown, MD, and returned with a truckload. The bolsters were too long for my axles, but the stakes and hardware were reusable. I could make new wooden bolsters.
Out came the chainsaw, and from a green ash log I’d been saving (because, as my wife says, “that’s what I do”), I cut blanks and began shaping them. After planing, jointing, and mortising, I had two new bolsters fitted with salvaged hardware.
New Front Bolster with reused stakes and hardware
Next, I tackled the tongue. Given the rubber tires, I assumed the wagon had last been pulled by a tractor, not horses—requiring a short tongue. I used the remnants to guide the refabrication. Again, I used green ash. After shaping the wood and refurbishing the old hardware, I reattached everything.
New tongue with hardware attached
Then came the sand board—the wooden component that sits on the front axle and allows the front bolster to pivot, enabling the wagon to steer. I cut and shaped a replacement from my ash log.
The front bolster attaches to the sand board with a kingpin—a steel rod with a flat flange to keep it in place. I bought a three-foot length of ¾” steel from Ace Hardware. After some heating and hammering, I fashioned the flange.
The old U-bolts securing the sand board and rear bolster had stripped threads and couldn’t be reused. I found a company online that makes custom U-bolts, mostly for automobiles. I ordered the proper size and shape, and once they arrived, I assembled all the cleaned, fabricated, and painted parts into the wagon chassis.
Cleaned and repainted wheel and hub
The wheel hubs and spokes were solid. I coated the wood in linseed oil and painted the rims and metal bands. Now they were ready for new tires. Finding 900×16 bias-ply antique tires was a challenge—they’re no longer standard but still available from specialty shops serving antique and military vehicles.
Chassis fully assembled
With the chassis complete, I turned to the bed. Using the ledger’s formula, I determined the size and purchased enough 12-foot 6″ tongue-and-groove spruce and 1×10 boards. I ordered eight metal stays from an Ohio company that makes Amish buggy parts to reinforce the sideboards.
The original bed would have been nailed or riveted together. For simplicity, I used deck screws and lag bolts. A dark walnut stain gave it a weathered look.
As of this writing, one 700×16 tube-type tire has arrived, but the tube was lost in transit. A second tube is on the way. Once it arrives, I’ll remove the temporary iron wheels and mount the final original wheels. Then the job will be complete.
Bed assembled and stained, temporary iron wheels still on the back
PART 3 – THE FINISHED PRODUCT
The new tires finally arrived. The last hurdle: removing the old ones, which had sat exposed to the elements since at least 1968—likely longer.
It was a chore, indeed. I had to cut and saw through the dry-rotted tires. But persistence prevailed.
If you’ve ever mounted a car or truck tire without a machine, you’ll appreciate what came next. With a stout hammer, two long-handled screwdrivers, and a lot of dish soap, I worked the new tires onto the old rims. After inflating and leak-checking, they were ready to install.
All that remained was adding a third tier of sideboards to reach the 33-inch height recorded in the Compher ledger.
Restored wagon with new tires and third tier of sideboards installed
© 2025 Clyde Housel. All rights reserved.
