When the earth began to rumble in the trading settlement of New Madrid in southeastern Missouri on December 16, 1811, it was the start of a series of earthquakes that would continue in the area for months. Three of the tremors were among the largest to strike North America since European settlement. At the time, the area was America’s sparsely inhabited western frontier, and fearing what might come next, most of the pioneers fled the area. Between a five-mile-long crevice opening in the earth and the riverbed of the Mississippi River being heaved up, reversing the course of the river, the frontier was spilling over the edge with ominous signs of what the future might hold.
‘Czar of the Valley’
John Hardeman Walker, unlike others, was not intimidated by the earthquakes. John had arrived with his family from Tennessee and settled in New Madrid in 1810. As his neighbors packed and headed to safer ground, he saw an opportunity to buy more land and expand his cattle and farming enterprise. So he purchased his neighbors’ land a parcel at a time. In a few years, his immense land holdings and cattle herds had earned him the nickname “Czar of the Valley.” By 1817, the population of Missouri had reached 60,000, and the citizens of the Missouri Territory petitioned Congress for statehood.
The proposed southern boundary was to be a straight line across the bottom of the new state. It was a sensible border that connected with the already established straight-line borders separating the existing eastern states of Kentucky from Tennessee and Virginia from North Carolina. Below the suggested border, the 980 square miles and 627,000 acres of what would become Missouri’s Bootheel remained inside what was known as the Arkansas Territory. Included in this area were John’s vast landholdings. When plans for the border became known, John and others in the vicinity were not happy. There are accounts of John complaining that he did not want to be an Arkansan “because the Arkansas climate ain’t healthy, and the people … can’t read nor write. Also, they says Arkansas is full of bears and panthers and copperhead snakes, so it ain’t safe for civilized folks to stay there overnight even.”
As John and his cohorts began to organize and lobby legislatures in Missouri and Washington, DC, more reasonable arguments were presented as to why there should be an appendage on the bottom of the Show-Me State.

The Safe State
First, the area in question had more in common with the Mississippi River towns of Cape Girardeau, Ste. Genevieve, and St. Louis than it did with the Arkansas Territory where its proposed incorporation was planned. Missouri had larger population centers, a larger base of industry along the Mississippi, a more established agriculture industry, and rapidly growing towns due to westward migration.
Moreover, Bootheel citizens led by John didn’t want to be subject to the administration of the Arkansas Territory government. Being part of the territory meant they would be without the protection that being a part of a state would bring. Also, Arkansas was not nearly as close to statehood when Missouri was admitted to the Union. Missouri became a state on August 10, 1821. Arkansas wouldn’t become a state until June 15, 1836, 15 years later. John and his cohorts wanted to be part of a state that offered an established system of laws for the state, as well as laws under the federal government. The arguments were persuasive enough that when Missouri statehood was approved in 1821, the tag of land now known as the Bootheel was included. Using the St. Francis River as the western border and the Mississippi River about 37 miles to the east as the eastern border, legislators voted favorably to drop the southern straight-line border 34.5 miles south.
John’s land was safely inside Missouri’s boundaries, but he was not done being a spokesperson for the land. To help enforce the laws of the new state, he served as sheriff of New Madrid County from 1821–1822 and then as a judge on the county court in 1823. In 1857, he laid out and plotted a town on his own land. In honor of Sam Caruthers, who first represented the area in Congress, he named it Caruthersville. Today the town is home to about 6,500 residents. John is still in Caruthersville. He died in 1860 from cholera and rests beside his wife, Sarah, behind the United Methodist Church. Along with 10 other headstones, the tiny cemetery is surrounded by a wrought iron fence. John Hardeman Walker’s grave lies within the Bootheel he was instrumental in creating.
This article is excerpted from the May 2025 edition of Missouri Life magazine. To read the full article, you can order a copy of the issue here.