BLOGGINCURLY

Cartoon/A Quotation/New Follower

2012-01-29T10:33:00.000-08:00

Y'all'll hev ta wait 'til next post ta see one of thim pritty gals, podnuh. Rat now ah've got more important thangs to do lak write sum'thin' today.

While browsing through Project Gutenberg Catalog, I came across this dedication in a book entitled, Romance of California Life by John Habberton, 1877:

"To: Frank Leslie

"Who, while other publishers were advising the writer of these sketches to write, supplied the author with encouragement in the shape of a publishing medium and the lucre which all literary men despise but long for, this volume is respectfully dedicated by

THE AUTHOR."

Now that's a nice dedication, but I didn't know that "literary men despise" money and long for it at the same time. Is it anything like hating sex and longing for it, too? It seems to me that they are similar attractions, although one is physical and fleeting and the other material and fleeting. Times were different in 1877, one being that S E X was never mentioned, although they could talk all they wanted to about money as long as they didn't disclose their own income. Men (and women?) who had money could talk about it, but the cowboy didn't say much in that regard. Everyone knew he didn't make much money punching cows and he never had much to brag about, anyway. I assume that's why so many stage coaches, trains, and banks were robbed - need of money. And someone had to tell those stories in the hopes of making money that a literary man hates. Oh, well, we're right back where we started from.

And a big welcome to a new follower, Trinity. Read the blog at http://www.trinity4h.blogspot.com

Photo/Events/New Follower

2012-01-26T09:12:00.000-08:00

Above pic was taken in the early 1900's in Idaho, probably. The man on the left is my father and the other one is his brother-in-law from the first marriage. You can see where I get my Western leanings from. It was part of life back then and continues on. NO, THEY WEREN'T OUTLAWS! I can't get over my Pa with a cheroot in his paw. He always smoked Bull Durham.

Upcoming events in Arizona. It will be 100 on Feb 12:

Jan 29 - Wickenburg. The Phoenix Symphony and the Music of John Williams

Feb 2-14 - Ajo. Centennial Celebration with old timey stuff.

Feb 3-5 - Sierra Vista. The Cochise Cowboy Poetry and Music Gathering.

Feb 4 - Phoenix. DogEaredPages Bookstore. Lecture and Book Signing, Reforming the Prisons with Arizona Authors Sue Ellen Allen and Bob Kaplan.

Feb 9-19 - Phoenix. Statehood Days. Big celebration at the Pioneer Living History Museum.

Feb 11 - Phoenix. Centennial Ball.

Feb 11 - Prescott. Trappings of a Horse Culture at the Phippen Museum.

Feb 11 - Scottsdale. Parada del Sol Parade. World famous horse drawn parade.

The Centennial events go on and on throughout the State. Pack a bag, climb on your saddle, and trot on down and help us celebrate long and hard. None of us will be here for the next one. Well, maybe a few hardy souls will survive.

A big, hearty welcome to Diane Fordham, a new follower, and check out her blog at
http://dianefordham.blogspot.com.

Cartoon/More Saloons

2012-01-22T07:19:00.000-08:00

(Click on cartoon to enlarge.)

It's time for some more info about Saloons of the Old West. My progress has not been very fast reading this book by Richard Erdoes, but haven't had the time for much reading.

Chapter 11 covered the gambling that took place in the saloons and parlors; the most well-known gamblers like Doc Holliday; the games played, e.g., poker and faro the most popular, and monte, roulette, 21, etc.; the largest and smallest pots; and the demise of public gambling.

Chapter 12 delineates the use of the saloons as places of grand entertainment to draw in the customers. They tried about everything in the way of shows, like dogs vs. dogs, dogs vs. rats, bull vs. bear, etc., to draw a crowd. Then someone got the idea of building theaters and opera houses as annexes to the saloons to show that the West had culture. These people brought in the likes of Sarah Bernhard, Adah Menken, Lola Montez, and even Helen Modjeska to dance and warble there way into the hearts of the cowboys, miners, ranchers, gamblers and what have you. I like the opera, but can't stand all the interruptions for singing.

Chapter 13 - Women in the Saloons. There were the hurdy gurdy's, pretty waiter saloons, honky tonks, concert saloons, fandango saloons and no matter what it was called, it was a place where women workers sold drinks at high prices and the cowboys, miners, and etc., spent their payday money on drinks for the girls and themselves.

There are a few more chapters not read yet, but it is getting toward the end. What am I going to use for emergencies after that when I come up short and need a blog subject? Darn, (he says) another problem to add to my list, but I have just the tome for this, Entrepreneurs of the Old West, by David Dary. Now that sounds like it may just fit the bill.

Blog Nominated for an Award

2012-01-19T10:37:00.000-08:00

This blog was nominated by the Arizona Authors Association for The Irresistibly Sweet Blog Award. Visit that blog at:
http://www.arizonaauthors.blogspot.com.
I thank you for this nomination, and also Vijaya Schartz, Webmistress at http://www.azauthors.com. Visit her blog at:
Blasters, Guns, Swords, Romance with a Kick, http://www.vijayaschartz.com and on Amazon at:
https://amazon.com/author/vijayaschartz.

Now I have to nominate ten other blogs for this award and tell my readers seven things they might not know about me.

Here are my blog nominations:

Levitt E. Valance's blog: http://mistervalanceporch.blogspot.com
James D. Best's blog: http://jimbest@jamesdbest.com
Becky Coffield's blog: http://moonlightmesa.blogspot.com
Houston A. W. Knight's blog: http://houstonawknight.blogspot.com
Ron Scheer's blog: http://buddiesinthesaddle.blogspot.com
Evan Lewis' blog: http://davycrockettsalmanack.blogspot.com
Sandra Seamans' blog: http://sandraseamans.blogspot.com
Charles Gramlich's blog: http://charlesgramlich.blogspot.com
Gary Dobbs' blog: http://tainted-archive.blogspot.com
Patsy Collins' blog: http://patsy-collins.blogspot.com

Congratulations! Best of luck in 2012.

Here are the seven things you might not know about me:

1. I have lived in Arizona since March 1971.
2. I retired from the U. S. Navy in January 1971 after 21 years service.
3. I began writing when I was about 70 years old.
4. I attended the University of Utah but never graduated. I tried out for UofU's basketball team, but was too old, too slow, bad shot, couldn't dribble, and threw the ball away. And this year it looks like they are having the same problems.
5. I had one brother who retired from the Army and another retired from the Marine Corps, and two others who were in the Army in WWII.
6. So far I have collected 20 rejections.
7. I like Mexican food, German food, fried taters and gravy, Southern cooking, French cooking, Kansas cooking, Spanish cooking, my Mom's (may she rest in peace) homemade bread with butter and honey, and the Riverside Restaurant on the island of Mauritius.

Good luck and have a fabulous 2012.

Oscar Case, Member of the Arizona Authors Association
http://oscar-curlyblog.blogspot.com

Writing

2012-01-15T08:36:00.000-08:00

If you are just a beginner in the writing world, you will face perhaps insurmountable obstacles according to James Michener's essay in The Writer's Book. For one thing, in the essay Michener shows the average number of books submitted to a publisher and the number the company will actually publish, and the odds are terrifying. The essay was written in 1966 or thereabouts, a long time ago, but I doubt whether the odds have become more beneficial to the writer now. In 1966, they didn't have the e-book publishers, and they may not have known what an e-book was then, so what he was talking about was traditional publishing. You are not considered to be an author until you have a book published by a traditional publisher according to some. I can't blame them for thinking that, because it means that the book has gone through the process of professional editing, layout, cover design, etc., which are not required for most non-traditional publications. And these books have been looked on as sloppy, full of errors, and not well designed, which a lot of them are, maybe even most of them. But the e-book world has leveled the playing field and it is much easier now to get published or publish your own.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is that there are maybe ten million people who are trying their hand at writing, double what Mr. Michener used in his essay, and all, or most, are trying to get published in the traditional manner, which overloads the companies considering them, and with the advent of the e-publishers, the traditional ones are cutting back, making it even harder for us to get something published by them. And this ups the rejection rate and forces writers to use the alternatives - ebooks, vanity presses, POD, etc., with the result being the "slush pile."

The only solution to this is to keep on writing and learning and eventually the "slush pile" will become the main product and will drown out the traditionalists. The people in the younger generation don't read anyway unless its connected somehow to technical gadgetry, which means everything will be electronic or digital or wireless.

Now. all I need is good rewriter to make sense of it all. If only Mr. Michener were still alive.

The New Old West

2012-01-12T06:28:00.000-08:00

A man goes out into the desert west of Phoenix like he has done many times before to commune with nature, absorb the solitude, enjoy the vegetation, watch the wildlife, e.g., snakes, gophers, coyotoes, lizards, etc., and pray to the Lord above. The day was bright and sunny with a little chill in the air. He decides to build a small fire to warm his hands and feet and finds an open spot among the creosote bushes and cactus that is suitable for such a project. Pretty soon he has gathered enough small stuff, dry branches from palo verdes and juniper trees, small bush sticks and leaves scraped together and gets a little bonfire blazing. He relaxes by the fire and contemplates the world's problems and discusses them with the Man above. Enjoying the heat, he puts on another stick and. . . . blam! . . . gets shot in the right eye.

He knows he is completely alone and considers the situation with one hand holding the right side of his face where the bullet entered, blood dripping onto his hand and flowing over his cheek. He kicks the dirt around the fire and finds a half-dozen live .22 cartridges and lets loose with a stream of epithets, cussing all the stupid people who come into the desert there and take target practice and leave live ammunition all over the place.

And that's the new old west as reported on a recent TV news show here in Phoenix with more color and description added by me for a more dramatic presentation. The man tells the TV station about what happened to him, trying to get a little publicity going and hopefully stop the crazy shooters from shooting up the desert and littering with live ammo. The reporter and camera man take a trip with the man to the spot where he was injured and they find more live ammo in the dirt. WISE UP you people! If you pack it in, pack it out!

Reading.....On Writing

2012-01-06T10:20:00.000-08:00

I've been reading an old pocket book I picked up cheap at an estate sale, entitled The Writer's Book, published as an Everyday Handbooks by Barnes & Noble, Ninth printing 1966. It's a book of essays on writing by different authors. It says on the front cover "Practical advice by experts in every field of writing," and "Presented by the Author's Guild, Edited by Helen Hull."

So far, I have read the advice from Pearl S. Buck, Ira Wolfert, Thomas Mann, John Hersey, Ann Petry, Francis Steegmuller, Richard Lockridge, Rex Stout, Arthur Koestler, Faith Baldwin, and Jacques Barzun. I've read just enough of it to get lost in the mire of how-to's. All good advice, but as I've heard before,"It's easier to teach than do." I do find the book enlightening and entertaining, although it is a dull subject to some of the authors who are picking up a couple of bucks for providing the information, I presume. I've read books by some of the authors noted above, like Faith Baldwin, John Hersey, Rex Stout, and I think F. Steegmuller and maybe Jacques Barzun, R. Lockridge, and A. Koestler. Rex Stout was a popular one with the Nero Wolfe character, Pearl Buck on China, John Hersey's Hiroshima book, and Steegmuller's New Yorker stories. I was first introduced to the New Yorker in high school and went to the library and read a couple of issues from cover to cover. Now, I look at it for the cartoons mainly.

I just hope my old, partially decomposed brain cells will let me retain half of the info contained in those essays. If not a half, maybe a quarter, or just enough to provide me with the tools to improve my writing to the point where it will become less of a chore to read it after the first draft.

What's all this have to do with writing Western fiction? Well, from a practical standpoint, it has everything to do with it, although none of those authors listed above ever wrote anything like a traditional cowboy story, not that I'm aware of anyway. The advice they hand out is applicable to all genre writing or all writing in general. I may be able to apply this knowledge to my next novel, in fact, I had better start applying it while it is still fresh in my mind. All these facts have a tendency to float away in the ozone before I can make good use of it.

Let's see, the next essayist will be W. H. Auden. Is that pronouced AW-den or OW-den, or Oh-den?

I would like to welcome a new follower, Prashant C. Trikannad. Welcome aboard, Prashant!

Startin' the New Year with....

2011-12-31T13:49:00.000-08:00

n. "Javelina" or Collared Peccary. Toyassu tajacu. C and SE Arizona, New Mexico. Like a pig with a big head and shoulders. Roams in large packs. Can be aggressive, with tusks. Rough as that tree in the heading picture. So that's what's been passing through the condo grounds at night, huh? Wild pigs! I thought it was the neighbors partying all the time.

(Click on cartoons to enlarge.)

It's That Time Again!

2011-12-31T13:07:00.000-08:00

And may all you resolutionaries stand firm in your commitments!

Well, well, well!

2011-12-23T09:32:00.000-08:00

What a nice way to end the year! Over the last few days, the 10,000th page viewer visited this blog and I want to wish them all well and give 'em a very big THANK YOU for coming by! HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Signing autographs

2011-12-22T06:50:00.000-08:00

Yours truly, ooly-dooly, hard at work signing books. My cap says "Be careful...or you will be in my next novel."

Enjoy the Christmas Day. Hope everyone got what they asked for and then some!

Santa Claus

2011-12-18T13:04:00.000-08:00

How bless'd, how envied, our life,
Could we but 'scape the poulterer's knife!
But man, curs'd man, on Turkeys preys,

And Christmas shortens all our days:
Sometimes with oysters we combine,
Sometimes assist the savory chine;
From the low peasant to the lord,
The Turkey smokes on every board.
Gay---- Fables

The Turkey will not be smoking on my board.
It will be HAM, BY DAMN!
Oscar-----

May the joys of Christmas rain gifts upon Thee!

Don't forget the author signing at 114th Ave & Bell Rd, Surprise, AZ (Bell Mar Plaza) Barnaby Street Shoppes::

From 11:30 - 2:30 PM both days.

Dec 23: Ann Goldfarb, discusses her first two time travel mysteries for YA.
Dec 24: Brenda Heyward, inter-racial romance fiction writer.

Monsieur Gustave Flaubert

2011-12-13T12:45:00.000-08:00

(Click on cartoon to enlarge.)

"What better occupation, really, than to spend the evening at the fireside with a book, with the wind beating on the windows and the lamp burning bright....Haven't you ever happened to come across in a book some vague notion that you've had, some obscure idea that returns from afar and that seems to express completely your most subtle feelings?"
----------------Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary

"Oui, M'sieur, that I have had. Subtle and not so subtle feelings, and vague and not so vague notions, uh-huh. About every time, no, by golly, every time I pick up a book and hear the wind, and sometimes the rain, beating on the window with the lights burning brightly, i get filled up, overcome, vastly excited, and all the other adverbs, and my mind fills with vague notions and subtle feelings, and I can't begin to tell you - such feelings, such notions! I'm overwhelmed as I open the book and make myself comfortable - on the floor, on the couch, in the chair, on an airplane, in a submarine, on the deck of a fine ship in the middle of the ocean! Wherever! I must read, I must read, my soul, my life, my everything is about to be expanded when I begin to read a book."
--------------Oscar

A hearty welcome to Albie to my blog. Check out his blog at: http://albiethegood.blogspot.com

Gila Monstuh!

2011-12-13T12:20:00.000-08:00

(Click on picture to get normal sized cartoon.)

Gila monster: Am. A large poisonous lizard of Arizona and New Mexico, covered with bead-like orange and black scales. Carnivorous. Stays underground when too hot or too cold. You may pick one up if it has a nice, fat, swollen tail which means he is well-fed. Then again, he may object to being handled. Its venom won't kill you, normally, but you never know. Bites hard and may hurt, hell, it will hurt. There are only two poisonous lizards in the world, and this is one of them. The other one is Mexican and wears beads - the beaded lizard. I've lived in Arizona for about forty years and only seen one - at least, I think it was one. I didn't follow him to find out. They can jump FAST.

Cartoon/Flaubert

2011-12-11T08:49:00.001-08:00

(Click on cartoons to enlarge)

Gustave Flaubert, while writing Madame Bovary, believed that characters should reveal themselves in their actions not like the analyses of character used by Balzac. My feeling in this regard is to do what the story you're writing tells you. If you feel that long character descriptions enhances the writing and the story, by all means, put them in.

Cartoon/Etc.

2011-12-07T08:38:00.001-08:00

(Click on pictures to enlarge)

OWED TO WINE

Tiny bawbles in the wine.
Makes me innards feel fine,
An to me out'ards adds,
A tinge of red design.
      ------- Oscar

Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away!
by this wine, I'll thrust my knife in your mouldy
chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away,
you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale
juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir? God's
light, with two points on your shoulder? much!
   ------------ Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 2

Ye Gods! Me mouldy chaps be not clean,
Surely, my love, you shall not thrust thy knife hence.
Who is it, I say, that plays the saucy cuttle with my fair damsel?
It is not I! It is not I!
Tell me! Tell me, dear wife of mine,
Who plays the saucy cuttle with thy fair body?
His life! His life! I will scuttle his cuttle perchance to do no more.
                                                ---------- Oscar

No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here:
discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
                  ----------- Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part 2

Enough! Enough, I say, and lay off the wine from now on. Ye Gods, man!

I don't like it when somebody talks about me chaps!

All right! All right! Enough already!

What is going to happen?Revised author signings/cartoon

2011-12-02T13:34:00.001-08:00

Esther, at the top of the pile of rocks, defending herself and her family was grabbed by Mahtoree, the Chief of the Sioux band on the wide, low, vacant, beautiful, hilly, grassy prairie in the middle of the night. This pile of rocks was supposed to be impenetrable and easy to defend and Ishmael had left the family there while he and his sons went looking for their animals the Siouxes chased away.

Doctor Battius had earlier escaped on his asinus, and then the old trapper, the bee hunter, the soldier escaped from the Siouxes just before Mahtoree latched onto Esther. Ishmael and his boys were on their way back to the pile of rocks, but will they make it in time? Will they evade the Sioux band? Will Esther be killed? Will her young girlfriends and the girls in the family be killed? Hurry up, Ishmael!

And that's where I was cut off in the story, The Prairie, by James Fenimore Cooper, as I sat in the car in the parking lot in front of Michael's while my wife bought some Xmas decos. I'm a little more than halfway through the book as I only read it when I'm stuck like this. I will have to pick up on page 240, Chapter 22, to find out the outcome of this bind they're in, but that may not be until next year, the way it's going. I'm surprised that I still remember what was going on before today. The little band of travelers, however, have not moved very much from the pile of rocks for many pages, in fact, they haven't moved very much at all since the beginning of the book. The writing style of Mr. Cooper requires beaucoup words placed in certain flowery terms and slows down my pace, but I say it is a well-written work and well-worth the time it is taking. Oh, woe is me! What will happen next? I can't wait.

The heading photo is more of northern Arizona country after a light snow. I think it is the Little Colorado River before running into the Colorado, or it may be the Colorado before reaching the Grand Canyon.

Revised schedule of author signing at Bell Mar Plaza, 114 Ave &:Bell Rd, Surprise, AZ:

Dec 9 - Conrad Storad, 11:30 - ?
Dec 10 - Brenda Heyward, 11:30 - ? Fiction writer specializing in inter-racial romance stories
Dec 16 - Yours truly from 11:30 to 2:30 PM.
Dec 17 - Ellen Calvert, 12:00 noon 'til 3:00 PM, Ellen will share her young children's works

Enjoy the day. And this cartoon:

Cartoon Time/Author Signings

2011-11-28T08:22:00.001-08:00

And a bunch of other things, too, but life is too dern short to dwell on it.

Upcoming author signings at the Barnaby Street Shoppes in Surprise, AZ, 114th Ave and Bell Road:

Friday and Saturday, December 2 and 3, 11:30-2:30: Michael Murphy, author of Scorpion Bay and several other mystery books.

Friday and Saturday, December 9 and 10, 11:30 til ?: Conrad Storad, author of the award winning Rattlesnake Rules, a children's fiction book.

Y'all come out and support these great authors by buying a book or two or three.

The West

2011-11-23T12:20:00.001-08:00

For the next few posts, I'll be adding some of my hand-drawn cartoons and hope it livens up the narrative a bit.

Here's another one to scratch your funnybone:

HAHAHAHAHAHA!! On to more serious items. A-hem....

I received another one of those standard rejection letters wishing me luck in getting The Bloody Gulch published. The more I learn about publishing, the more interested I become in self-publishing. Anyway, those letters don't discourage me anymore, and I'm busy rewriting the novel. When it's ready again, I may give them one more shot at it, but the number of publishers seem to be dwindling or being more selective due to the pressure of e-books.

Final Bed Covers of the West

2011-11-22T10:05:00.001-08:00

Here are the final few pics of my wife's handmade quilts:

There's that darn dog again. He never missed many photo ops.

And there's my cat, Guinevere. She took a liking to those clown teddy bears. She has passed on to the spiritual cat world.

Some of the pics were duplicated here, but I had to fill up the page. HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL!!!

More Bed Covers

2011-11-18T09:15:00.001-08:00

Now that the West has modernized and gotten past using bearskins and other hides and buffalo robes, at least most people have, here's some more pics of my wife's handmade quilts:

The first one is a basket design.

And there are a few Christmas colors mixed in these:

My step-daughter and wife are holding up that one, above, that's still in the frame.

And that darn show-off dog had to get on that one.

It looks like I still have to post another group next time. (You can let go of my arm now, Mary.)

Bed Covers of the West

2011-11-15T10:17:00.001-08:00

The title of this post may be considered a trifle exaggerated, although the West certainly made their own bed covers in most cases in the last half of the 19th century. And this tradition still goes on as exhibited in these photos of some of my wife's quilts. I think she did a FANTASTIC job and would like to show off a few of them. The small town where I was born had its own "quilting bees" where the women would get together in the church and put together quilts, most of which were made for the beds of the poor and were more useful in the design than artistic. I've seen quilts these days that are designed by electronics and are really complicated, but these are all done by hand from patterns in the old-fashioned way.

This first one is shown hanging on the wall of our 'umble abode, partially covered by an old sewing machine table and my old-fashioned chair. The small painting on the wall to the right shows the White Dove of the Desert Church complex south of Tucson done by moi when I was into painting. It looks a lot better in the photo.

In this one the quilt is thrown over the couch and our dog, Bonaparte, now departed, had to jump on it and get his picture taken. Big showoff.

The next quilt is thrown over our bed and is made from a Hawaiian pattern .

Another one thrown over the bed.

This one was photographed in the backyard, being held by the wife.

Will add a few more next post. (Quit twisting my arm, Mary, you're goin' to break my shoulder.)

More things to do out West in Arizona

2011-11-12T09:38:00.001-08:00

First off, a big welcome to James D. Best to my group of followers. BUY MR. BEST'S BOOKS TODAY at Amazon.com, a fine writer of Westerns and Mysteries and an all-around nice guy. You can visit his blog and order books from there jamesdbest.com . Read his latest blog post about his stay at a dude ranch, interesting.

Second off, if you are not in Phoenix this weekend you will miss the racing at Phoenix International Raceway with all the NASCAR drivers, including Jimmie Johnson, Michael Waltrip, Greg Biffle, the Cope Twins, and many others. It's a sellout crowd, tickets are still available for the hillside, though. Good luck and don't have too many accidents, just one or two spectacular crashes to keep the crowd excited on the way to the track. I will not be there this year or next year or the year after that, nor did I go last year, the year before, the year before that, etc.

Third off, other things that are coming up:

1. The Arizona Wind Symphony, Nov 2, DARN, you'll have to wait 'til next year. It was a real windy blast this year, a regular "haboob" without the dust, just the wind whistling through the cactus and creosote bushes. Just joking. This is an 80-member concert band that put on a Latin Music Extravaganza this year in the Tempe Arts Center.

2. The Wickenburg Bluegrass Festival, Nov 12-13, The fiddle-on-fire-that-turns-the-grass-blue event 30 miles NW of Phoenix with some of the best fiddlers around.

3. 2012 Trappings of the American West, Prescott, AZ. Ninety artists from the West painting, bronzing, photographing things Western, Nov 12. Don't stand still or they will take your picture and paint a portrait and sculpt something in bronze about it, a record forever sacred in stone, er, that was bronze, I think.

And so forth, and so forth, and...... the beat goes on. So much to do, so little time.

(Thanks to the AAA mag Highroads again.)

Things to do Out West in Arizona

2011-11-08T11:14:00.000-08:00

Coming up is the Arizona Centennial Celebration and it has already started in some places. It is officially the Fourteenth of February Twenty-Twelve. Prescott, Arizona, is where it all began and it is still a lively place to visit and have a centennial good time.

If that doesn't appeal to you, try stomping grapes with your bare feet on the last weekend in July in Sonoita in southeastern Arizona. With all the wine-tasting and what-have-you it'll be a rip-roaring toot.

To listen to some soothing music try the Sedona Jazz on the Rocks festival, held every damn year. Next year's event will be announced sometime next May. Sedona recieved an inch of snow this week, but it will all be melted off by the next festival. Cool listening among the rocky vortexes.

And for all the old birds who have spent a lifetime wishing they lived in Arizona, its the Annual Buzzard Days, almost like the swallows returning to Capistrano, except the turkey buzzards are uglier than a 20-day drunken blackout. We all gather at the Boyce Arboretum on the road to Globe from Apache Junction to watch their arrival in March, and we do practically the same thing when they leave in September. What a hoot!

For the horse-watchers, bull-watchers, goat-riders, and calf-wrestlers there is the Payson Rodeo, one of the oldest in the West having been held for 127 years coming again the third weekend in August. The broken-bone fiesta! Yahoo!

After that we can set out on the old Salsa Trail, eating our way through the towns of Safford, Pima, Thatcher, Solomon, Clifton, Duncan, Wilcox, and York. York?? Did the Duke of York ever visit the little town of York? Or is it named after NEW York? It might be, since I haven't heard of an OLD York. Or is that the sound you make after finishing the Salsa Trail? I sure hope not, cause I love the salsa, hot salsa, cold salsa, intermediate salsa-consuming training, you name it, it's the best covering sauce around.

If you survive that, you must visit the Tucson Gem and Mineral Show and see all the rocks for sale. These aren't the throwing kind, but if you haggle too long over the price you might get hit with one. Rates high in the rock world for something to do in the middle of winter and it's practically summer in February in Tucson.

If that isn't enough, there's always the peach-pit spitting contest in Queen Creek in May, the ostrich festival in Chandler in March, the Prescott Bluegrass Festival in June, and the exciting sport of the Blooms at Picacho Peak in the spring as they make their thunderous noise opening up in a display of a million colors and hues beginning in March and ending in May. What a cracking display!

And that's just for starters! Next post we'll have some more wonderful things to do! Maybe.

(Thanks to the AAA Travel Magazine, Highroads, Nov-Dec 2011 ed.)

How I Began Writing Novels

2011-11-06T09:36:00.000-08:00

I began writing as a time-killer after moving into this retirement community with nothing much to do. I finished up my family history and genealogy books and decided I'd try writing a Western. I trotted (trod) ran, went to B & N and picked out a book on writing novels, The Marshall Plan for Novel Writing by Evan Marshall of the Evan Marshall Literary Agency it says in "About the Author." I had some preconceived ideas about some stories lingering around inside my brain and this was the book that was going to tell me what I should do about it. Clutching it tightly in my grubby little hands, I returned home and began reading. If anyone could tell me how to go about it, this was the man. I read the intro, preface, prologue, what the book was about, and most of Chapter l, Part of Chapter 2, skimmed through Chapter 3 and to the end, put the book in my crowded bookcase and sat down at my computer my mind abuzz with all the do's, don'ts, and what-if's. Pushing all that aside, I whipped out about seven, eight, nine novels and rested with complete satisfaction, all done, finished, kaput. Easy as cutting into a cream pie (coconut) and shoving it into the appropriate orifice.

It wasn't that I didn't follow the Marshall Plan, I didn't. I followed Oscar's Plan: Write a story and get it published. The first story was a 185,000-word novel, biographical in nature, and I sent it off to someplace. The someplace sent it back saying nice attempt, but we're not interested in this type. I was overcome with dejection, sadness, it just can't be, what were these folks thinking anyway, the Great American Novel rejected! Boo-hoo-hoo! I sent those letters to agencies, queries, I think they call 'em, telling them do something about this biggest mistake in writing history, take me on as a client. They got a good laugh out of that and sent them back, too busy, no action, too long, too short, not literary, try again.

Well, I'll show them, I'll break that novel up into three books, make the stories shorter, tighter, more action, and what-have-you, and sent them off again to different publishers. Of course, all three were sent back tout de suite with those honey-sweet rejection letters, we don't print this genre, thanks, needs more action, thanks, sorry, thanks, etc.

What's a feller to do?

I walked four feet to my bookcase, pulled out The Marshall Plan, read the complete Chapter 2, skimmed through Chapter 3, closed it, and walked back to the bookcase and shoved it in there somehow. AHA! I said to my wife, who wasn't listening and didn't give a damn anyway, and sat back down at my PC.

Five or six years later, I'm still sitting here. I arose from my chair, went those few steps to the bookcase, pulled out The Marshall Plan, laid it down in front of the monitor where I could see it as I type, and taking a good look at the nice pretty blue cover said to myself, "One of these days, I'm going to have to actually read it - all the way through to the very end. It's such a nice book and lays it all out for me to follow. It has great advice, easy, how-to-do-it, instructions, simple definitions, great writing, easy-to-understand terms, a nice index. Whew! Just too easy."

And that's how I began writing. Now, if we can just move on to the second phase (I say with fingers crossed while praying to the Great Publisher in the Sky).

Thanks to Mr. Marshall for writing this fine and interesting book and I recommend it to all beginners with one caveat, you have to actually READ IT and FOLLOW THE DIRECTIONS!

2011 Avondale Writer's Conference

2011-11-03T07:15:00.000-07:00

The Second Annual Writer's Conference in Avondale, Arizona, took place last Saturday, and there was a nice turnout.
I would have taken some pictures, but not having a camera pretty well prevented that. My personal involvement was attending some of the lectures and eating lunch.

The first class was on "How to get your book published - No Nonsense Advice" by James Best, a local author. I enjoyed listening to Mr. Best tell us how to do this and came away with my head buzzing with ideas. I'll have to see if any of them work out. Mr. Best has written fiction and non-fiction and his fiction books are Westerns and Mysteries and sounded very readable. His titles include The Shopkeeper, Leadville, Tempest at Dawn, Murder at Thumb Butte, and The Shutmouth Society in fiction. The one non-fiction book is The Digital Organization.

The Second seminar was "How to Develop Believable Characters" by Laura Brown. I found this class interesting and hope that I absorbed enough to put her ideas to good use.

Number three was "3 Deadly Sins that will Keep you from getting published," by Betty J. Webb, a local mystery writer and former Arizona Republic journalist. I appreciated Mrs. Webb's advice and will keep it handy in my mind when I get back to working on my novels.

And the fourth was "Starting a Web site" by Signe Nichols. I didn't get too much out of this one, since most of the items covered I had already known about, but it was still worth my time.

There was one more, but I decided to go home. That one was "E-pubication. What you need to know," with Carol Webb.

Oh, yes, there were several agents in attendance to pitch to, but none that promoted Westerns according to the pre-conference literature, so I passed up that chance. Maybe next time.

All in all, I would say that the day was well spent. Just have to put my new info to work.

California and the Southwest III

2011-10-30T09:06:00.000-07:00

I've been lost in a cornfield maze for the last three days. We picked up the great-grandsons from school and zipped out to Tolmachoff Farm to pay homage to the Great Pumpkin and went into the corn maze. Nothing like a good corn maze to put you in the mood for more California and the Southwest.

The header image is a pile of rock near Monument Valley with a light dusting of snow.

We'll now relate the life in California as it pertains to the West and come to a conclusion about whether or not California is part of the Southwest under Western traditions.

I must rely on David Starr Jordan for some more bullets to throw at you. In his book California and the Californians he writes: "A Western man," says Doctor Amos Griswold Warner, "is an Eastern man who has had some additional experiences." The Californian is a man from anywhere in America or Europe, typically from New England, perhaps, who has learned a thing or two he did not know in the East" [like gold mining, running cattle, holding up stages, robbing banks, etc. Blogger's note.] "and, perhaps has forgotten some things it may have been well to remember. The things he has learned relate mostly to elbow room, nature at first hand, and the "unearned increment." [What the hell ever that is. BN] [Oh, it's GOLD! What else? Just laying around on the ground for anyone to take. BN]

The things he has forgotten relate mostly to the law: "When men come into contact with men instead of the forces of nature, they mistake their own conventionalities for the facts of existence. It is not what life is, but what "the singular mess we agree to call life" is what interests them. In this fashion, they lose their real understanding of affairs, become the toys of their environment"......."The young man who is decent only because he things that someone is looking, would do well to stay away. The stern law of individual responsibility turns the fool over to the fool-killer without a preliminary trial."....."In short, California is a man's land, with male standards of action--a land where one must give and take, stand and fall, as a man."

Just like the rest of the West and Southwest, where men were men, survival of the fittest, as Darwin put it. "He can cinch his own saddle, harness his own team, bud his own grapevines, cook his own breakfast, paint his own house {whoever heard of painting a house, in those days? BN] ......."Following them [the gold hunters, BN] came a miscellaneous array of parasites and plunderers; dive-keepers and saloon-keepers, who fed fat on the oil of the Argonauts. Every Roaring Camp had its Jack Hamlin as well as its Flynn of Virginia, John Oakhurst came with Yuba Bill,.........and keepers of establishments far worse [than saloons, BN], toward which the saloon is the first step downwards; a class of so-called lawyers, politicians and agents of bribery and blackmail; a long line of soothsayers. clairvoyants, lottery agents and joint keepers, besides gamblers, sweaters, .........and other types of unhanged, but more or less pendable, scoundrels that feed on the life-blood of the weak and foolish." [I think he means the Criminal Element. BN]

Who were these characters? Well, Jack Hamlin was Bret Harte's protagonist in his tales of early California, a very modest portion of which is quoted here from the California Digital Library: "There's an entire stranger downstairs, ez hez a lame hoss, and wants to borry a fresh one." "We have none, you know," said Mrs. Rylands, a little impatiently."

Now, that way of talkin' is exactly like other parts of the West. Whether or not the "entire stranger" was Jack Hamlin or someone else, I know not.

Yuba Bill was a characater in a movie entitled Salomy Jane, of 1914, written by Paul Armstrong and played by Andrew Robson. It was a WESTERN feature film based on the novella of the same name by Bret Harte.

And there were outlaws just like in the Old West like Joaquin Murietta and others. I refer you to William B. Secrest's book, California Desperados: Stories of Early California Outlaws in their Own Words, available from Amazon.com.

So, there you have it, and why I came to the conclusion that California is part of the Southwest, a moot argument to begin with.

Climate and the Southwest Including California

2011-10-27T08:14:00.000-07:00

I'm indebted to David Starr Jordan, a former President of Stanford, for his book California and the Californians and to Project Gutenberg where I found it. Mr. Jordan lays out the case for California being part of the Southwest, just read this and you will see what I mean:

"The climate of California is especially kind to childhood and old age."

See, that right there puts California in the Southwest, because the climate of the Southwest is the same. The years in between don't fit into this climate because by the time you take out all the disease, filthy conditions, unwarranted killings and early deaths, there is nothing left but childhood and old age (if a person is lucky). It's smooth sailing from there on out in California and the rest of the Southwest.

Mr. Jordan uses a quote by Bret Harte: "Half a year of clouds and flowers, half a year of dust and sky" to proclaim the virtues of California's climate, but he could have just as well be talking about Arizona, Texas, Utah, Nevada, New Mexico, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Oklahoma, Kansas, Nebraska, and North and South Dakota, all in the Southwest according to the way some people see the Southwest. And you have to admit that most of these States, if not all, are full of dust most of the time, even in winter's depth, if not dirt dust, it's snow dust. Just like the Southwest, so the climate of California is exactly similar.

Here is a picture of a California cloud that was blown off course and ended up in Arizona across the border, It looks mighty similar to or maybe exactly like the others in the Southwest. Just to show that they are about the same, this one below drifted from the north, Utah, a part of the Southwest.

A mighty powerful cloud in its own right. Only one problem, from here, I can't tell if it's a raincloud or a dust cloud. The point is that it looks exactly similar to the one above, especially in its fluffiness and contours.

Mr. Jordan continues to write about the weather in California: "But with the dust and the sky, come the unbroken succession of days of sunshine, the dry invigorating air, the scent of the resin of tarweed" (I think he meant mesquite trees and creosote bush) "and the boundless overflow of vine and orchard." (I think he meant wine and grapes, typical of the Southwest). And he goes on and on to say, "If one must choose, in all the fragrant California year the best month is June, for then the air is softest, and a touch of summer's gold overlies the green of winter." This compares favorably with all of the Southwest, including Arizona where June is the best month of the year, too, since it's the hottest, hot as Hades, where everyone stays indoors just like in North Dakota for the opposite reason, analogous to California. Here is a picture of that blue sky, a very familiar sight in the whole Southwest:

The month of June. Beautiful.

One more point on climate per Mr. Jordan: "The habit of roasting one's self all winter long is unknown in California. The old Californian seldom built a fire for warmth's sake. When he was cold in the house, he went outside to get warm." This is exactly like all of the Southwest, except the people in the Southwest didn't have houses. They had tepees, cabins, huts, cellars, etc., and never built a fire inside to prevent accidental destruction by fire. We had to go outside to get warm and besides, all the gunfights took place outside at high noon, so there was no reason to stay inside.

We can see now that California and the Southwest are geographically and climatologically contiguous, two-thirds of my argument proven.

A comment on this. I don't think Mr. Jordan ever visited Lake Tahoe in Northern California where they receive around a hundred and twenty feet of snow every winter.

Next up: A short post on people and freedom in California juxtaposed with the rest of the Southwest, maybe.

California is Part of the Southwest

2011-10-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

In some mysterious fashion over the next few blog posts, I will "prove beyond a reasonable doubt" that that area of the United States called California is in the Southwest. I mean the Southwest, the one we Western writers think of as being Southwest, you know, the traditional way of looking at things Western, e.g., attacks by Indians, stage robberies, holdups, shootouts, cowboys, Indians, poker players, and what have you.

The reason I bring this up is over the last couple months or so, that question was asked by a blog writer. I don't recall who or why the subject came up, but I can imagine that some people along the line have said that California is not part of the Southwest.

First, being the foremost, is the geographic location. Some people think that California looks like this on a map of the U.S.:

But, to some other people, it looks like this:

Still others see it like this:

No matter how you look at it, California just doesn't fit in, but we'll see as the discussion progresses. Next up, the Climate.

Too Many Interruptions, Again

2011-10-20T07:40:00.000-07:00

Here we go again, unexpected interruptions. Since last Thursday, my writing has been cut to zero due to lack of time. I'm pushing it to put something in a blog today, so I won't. I'll just let the blog take care of itself while I do my other tasks.

Here is the first thing I won't write about today - What am I doing? Just ain't the hours in a day to tell about what I'm doing today.

Here's the second thing I won't write about - Why am I doing it? This would take too long to explain when I don't know myself what or why I'm doing it.

And, the third thing I won't write about - Should I even be doing it? Talk about something to write about would be the reasons I'm doing what I'm doing. But I'll restrain myself and just put it aside.

Finally, since I don't have time to write anything, is the fourth thing I won't write about - I won't write about what I'm not writing about due to another interruption.

HAVE A WONDERFUL HUMPY DAY!!! I'm not writing this on Wednesday, and I won't post it on Thursday.

WOOPS! Too Late.

Character descriptions

2011-10-16T09:22:00.000-07:00

Some writers spend a lot of time describing their characters and it isn't anything new. Take for instance the first page of Dostoevsky's The Idiot. He starts right off with long descriptions of the first two characters as follows:

"One of them was a young fellow of about twenty-seven, not tall, with black curling hair, and small, grey, fiery eyes. His nose was broad and flat, and he had high cheek bones; his thin lips were constantly compressed into an impudent, ironical--it might almost be called a malicious--smile; but his forehead was high and well formed, and atoned for a good deal of the ugliness of the lower part of his face. A special feature of this physiognomy was its death-like pallor, which gave to the whole man an indescribably emaciated appearance in spite of his hard look, and at the same time a sort of passionate and suffering expression which did not harmonize with his impudent, sarcastic smile and keen, self-satisfied bearing. He wore a large fur--or rather astrachan--overcoat, which had kept him warm all night, while his neighbour had been obliged to bear the full severity of a Russian November night entirely unprepared. His wide, sleeveless mantle with a large cape to it--the sort of cloak one sees upoon travellers during the winter months in Switzerland or North Italy--was by no means adapted to the long cold journey through Russia, from Eydkuhnen to St. Petersburg.

"The wearer of this cloak was a young fellow, also of about twenty-six or twenty-seven years of age, slightly above the middle height, very fair, with a thin, pointed and very light coloured beard; his eyes were large and blue, and had an intent look aobut them, yet that heavy expression wihich some peoplle affirm to be a peculiarity as well as eveidence, of an epileptic subject. His face was decidedly a pleasant one for all that; refined, but quite colourless, except for the circumstance that at this moment it was blue with cold. He held a bundle made up on an old faded slk handkerchief that apparently contained all his travelling wardrobe, and wore thick shoes and gaiters, his whole appearance being very un-Russian.

"His black-haired neighbour inspected these peculiarities, having nothing better to do, and at length remarked, with that rude enjoyment of the discomforts of others which the common classes so often show: (etc., etc.)"

Since beginning my writing "career" (he says with a dirty little grin or more like a smirk), I never paid much attention to character description, even though I was instructed in a class to write on a piece of paper all the various traits and physical characteristics, mannerisms, etc., of each character, and now ten years later I still haven't paid too much attention to character, and I haven't written on a piece of paper or anything else any of these things. The above excerpt clearly demonstrates the effectiveness of doing this, even though it is a fairly long-winded exposition, at least the first one is and shows me that more attention to character can make (or break) a story in some instances.

A fellow blogger, Charles Gramlich at www.charlesgramlich.blogspot.com has written about character descriptions more than once on his Razored Zen blog and I owe him one for pointing out the usefulness of description when bringing characters to life. I'll have to be more cognizant of this in my own writing.

NOTE: The excerpt is in the public domain and was copied from the Project Gutenberg site.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

2011-10-14T05:19:00.000-07:00

Hm-mm, the photo in the last blog didn't re-size and took up most of the page. When I clicked on "Add Photo", I thought it was supposed to fit into the space allotted in the blog spot. Oh, well, it just wanted to disobey and show its independence, and I'm not going to mess with it anymore. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't.

Our great-grandsons are in the scouts and over the last weekend they participated in the annual Fire Prevention Parade in downtown Glendale, AZ. Their scout troop was selected to march in the parade and march they did. The parade lasted for about an hour-and-a-half with all the public figures and fire engines from different parts of the State. Even a couple engines from out of State were there blowing their sirens and honking horns. The first fire engine procured by Glendale was a 1917 Nash. It was a pretty sharp truck and still running, too.

The photo above shows some of the scouts watching the trucks and other entries after their part in the parade was finished. The TV news cameraman is there, too, taking pictures of the crowd.

This photo fell right into place like it was supposed to. Go figure.

Fires in the Old West were hard to contain, if they could be stopped at all. Well-water was about the only source for water except for the water storage tanks in towns that were so inclined to provide them, but they had no way to transport it to the fire except by use of "bucket brigades." The coming of steam engines required water be stored at the stops, but if the fire was down the street, there was no practical way to get the water to the fire. But with more modern technology and people to implement it, fire prevention became easier. The invention of fire hoses was a big step forward. The ranch owner, though, was at the mercy of fire, just like the merchants in town but on a smaller scale.

Utah State Historical Marker

2011-10-09T10:47:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of the State Historical Marker put up by the Daughters of Utah Pioneers to commemorate the Burrville Peace Treaty between the Mormons and the Indians.
It was February 9, 1883, ten years later, that my father was born in Burrville and they should have put up a marker for that occasion, too. Just joking. And we always joked that he was three days older than Lincoln.

And here he is on the right with his five sons. You can see the western influence in his older boys all wearing a cowboy hat and the oldest also has a neckerchief. This was taken on the school steps in 1939 or l940. That's me on the far left. He also had three daughters, but he wanted this picture to boast of the boys. When WWII started, the older ones joined the Army and later the one next to me joined the Marines in '48 and I joined the Navy in '50, 17 years old. That white dot on my pop's breast is a Bull Durham tag. He smoked right up until he died in 1951.
We had to wear those overalls until we were 12 or 13 and we were barefooted. We got shoes for the winter, though.

Sedona, AZ, A Personal View

2011-10-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

The rocks in the header are not in the Sedona area. They are somewhere in northern AZ though, probably near the Monument Valley. Here's what Sedona has:

These are just two of the many brochures that are spread around the town to keep the tourists happy and occupied. There are many types that a traveler can pick up in the visitor center, motels, grocery stores, shopping malls, art galleries, etc. A lot of people come to Sedona to check out the psychic and spiritual stuff available, like the Vortex Tours, and there is plenty of down-to-earth funspots, too, like the Horsin' Around Adventurers. I don't mind givin' them a plug and hope they sell lots of tours. The Pink Jeep Tours is very popular and you have the helicopter and airplane tours over the Grand Canyon. Sedona Airport is a nice place to have breakfast or dinner and look out over the valley, but there are many nice, expensive restaurants to grab a bite.

Thirty years ago, we had friends that lived in Oak Creek Village adjacent to Sedona, and back then it was touristy but a lot smaller with only a few nice places to eat and NO ROUNDABOUTS. Traffic was not so bad then and the stargazers and vortex seekers had to stop alongside the road to gaze at the rocks. Now the city has provided lookout stops along the way so you don't hold up traffic. West Sedona was barely populated with real estate offices and a couple of restaurants and now its all built up with all kinds of businesses and housing. My drunken sailor buddy and I hit all the drinkin' places back then to the utter dismay of our wives on what we considered "good times." And I don't apologize for any of that crazy stuff. I was taken back to those days when we were eating dinner in the Cowboy Club the night before the book festival and cussing out all the people crowdin' into the town and bars and restaurants. Both my friend and his wife were killed in an auto accident one morning when they were heading to the doctor on one of the two-lane roads and now rest in peace at a cemetery in Sedona. One of these days I'll stop by with a bottle of wine and pour us a snifter for the "good ole times," if my sawbones says it's all right to have a drink. Even with the crowds and the roundabouts, its a nice place to visit and contemplate your navel or world problems, whichever strikes you as the most needed.

Before I end this post, I want to tell you about the 43 western movies made in Sedona, but I won't, I'll just refer you to this site: greatlifegreatlove.com
which has the complete list. You may have to search for the post there and the YouTube video under "western movies filmed in Sedona." Good luck.

A trip to Sedona, AZ

2011-10-02T12:04:00.000-07:00

We just returned from Sedona, AZ, and unpacked. We (the wife and I) attended the Sedona Book Festival at the East Yavapai College campus among the cedar trees in West Sedona. It was a smashing success, I heard someone say as we were getting ready to leave. It had to be, because the two rooms were jammed chock-a-block with authors selling their books and the speakers were Kris Neri, Award Winning Author of the Tracy Eaton mystery series, Jeff Smedstad, Owner of the Elote Cafe and the Chef with a cooking demonstration, Diana Gabaldon, National and International Bestselling Author of the Outlander series, and Lisa Schnebly Heidinger, Author of the Official Book of the Arizona Centennial. The reviews were mixed in the book selling department, some were good, some not so good.
Mine was in the not-so-good category, selling just one book in the four hours at the table, but the day wasn't wasted. The buyers seemed to be more interested in the psychic and fantasy realm than in the down-to-earth Western type it appeared to me. The psychics and fantasy seemed to make up about half of the authors in our room. Anyway, a good time was had by all, and who couldn't have a good time among the red rocks and vortexes on that area.

I will have a follow-up next blog, after I catch my breath.

All's Fair in Love and War

2011-09-29T09:39:00.000-07:00

Here is an excerpt from an old book published in 1904, Old Put, the Patriot, by Frederick A. Ober, relating one deception by "Old Put" during the Revolutionary War. "Old Put" is General Israel Putnam, a valuable soldier and leader under Washignton.

"It was with only the "skeleton of an army" that Washington, on the eighth of December, crossed the Delaware at Trenton, less than three thousand troops remaining by him then. Cornwallis and his soldiers were not far behind, during a portion of that gloomy retreat, a few days measuring the distance between the rival armies; but they did not catch up with the Americans at that time.

"The very day after his arrival at Trenton Washington ordered Putnam to Philadelphia, where he was placed in absolute command, and where he displayed the same energy and integrity of purpose that had always animated him hitherto. He had been a sustaining force to the Commander-in-Chief on that march across New Jersey, and of the few generals who had stood by him, no one had endured with less complaint or performed with more alacrity than Old Put. He was one upon whom to rely in the proposed scheme of fortifying the city, and his long experience at entrenching made him peculiarly fit for the work.

"His sturdy nature, good sense, and ready wit made him at once a favorite with the Continental Congress and the Committee of Safety; though the former, acting on his advice, soon left the city for the greater security of Baltimore. Putnam soon placed the city under martial law, drafted all the citizens, except the Quakers, into the military service, and put the place in the best posture for defense of which it was capable. "There were foes within the city as well as foes without," for the Tory element was strong in Philadelphia, and it was because of it that Putnam was unable to cooperate with Washington when he dealt the enemy the first of those telling blows at Trenton and Princeton. He dared not withdraw his men from the city, even for a short absence, in order to create a diversion while his Commander- in-Chief made the direct attack. Had he done so, and also the other generals to whom were entrusted the details of this affair, the Hessians might have been entirely cut off in their retreat from Trenton and practically destroyed. As it was, Putnam held to his command in Philadelphia, and soon had the pleasure of entertaining some of the Hessian captives, for whom he was obliged to provide quarters while passing through the city.

"It must have fretted him vastly to be kept in Philadelphia while Washington was pursuing the very tactics he himself would have used against the enemy. After his first success Washington ordered Putnam out to Crosswicks, a small place southeast of Trenton, "a very advantageous post" for him to hold while his superior was planning his descent upon Princeton. On the 5th of January, after Washington had launched his thunderbolt at Princeton (of his intention to do which Putnam had been informed by a letter from his adjutant, written at midnight preceding that eventful third of January, 1777), he wrote at length to his trusty friend and General: "It is thought advisable for you to march the troops under your command to Crosswicks, and keep a strict watch up on the enemy in that quarter. If the enemy continue at Brunswick you must act with great circumspection, lest you meet with a surprise. As we have made two successful attacks upon the enemy by the way of surprise, they will be pointed with resentment, and if there is any possibility of retaliating they will attempt it. You will give out your strength to be twice as great as it is. Forward on all the baggage and scattered troops belonging to this division of the army as soon as may be."

"In accordance with Washington's suggestion as to the augmenting of the number of his men, Putnam availed himself of the request of a wounded British officer, who was his prisoner, that a friend in Cornwallis's army might be sent for to make his will, to practice a ruse. It was in Princeton, whither he had been ordered from Crosswicks. As he had but a few hundred men, in order to prevent his weakness from being known to the military visitor he was brought in after dark, all the windows in the college buildings and private houses were lighted up, "and the handful of troops paraded about to such effect during the night that the visitor, on his return to the British camp, reported the force under the old general to be at least five thousand strong!" In this manner the shrewd but kind-hearted Putnam complied with his prisoner's request, and at the same time turned it to his own and his soldiers' advantage.

"Having failed in his attempt to "bag that old fox" (Washington), Lord Cornwallis had scurried back to protect his baggage and communications at New Brunswick, while Washington ensconced himself in the rugged country about Morristown, and Putnam was left to protect the lowlands and harass the enemy. So effectually did he perform the latter that his aggregate of prisoners taken during the winter exceeded the number captured by Washigton at Trenton, and his captures of wagons laden with provisions for the enemy were highly important."

I put this in a blog post for a couple of reasons. One was to highlight the book, Old Put the Patriot, which I thoroughly enjoyed reading since in it I found out where one of my ancestor's was killed or died in the Revolution and where Old Put escaped from the British, at Horseneck along the Connecticut coast. And the other is to note the deception carried out by Old Put re the number of troops. This ruse was used throughout the centuries, if I may say so, and also in the West where the cowboys on a ranch or cornered in the hills were paraded to make the attackers think there were more than there were, and at the forts that were surrounded by the Indians and being attacked. These have been depicted in the movies.

Here is a picture of the cover of the book:

Old Put escaping from the British at Horseneck. The British soldiers at the top of the picture are not too legible in this scan, but look fine in the illustration inside the book, which is available at Project Gutenberg.

Recent Purchases

2011-09-25T09:32:00.000-07:00

Additions to my To Be Read List:

1. Man on the Run by Giles Lutz, winner of the Spur Award for Honyocker and a prolific Western writer.
2. Man in the Saddle by Ernest Haycox. We've all heard of him.
3. Tough County by Frank Bonham. Wrote Westerns and other genres.
4. Single Jack by Max Brand. Well Known Western writer.
5. Sackett by Louis L'Amour. Can't add anything to this author's credits.
6. To the Far Blue Mountains by Louis L'Amour.
7. Galloway by Louis L'Amour.
8. The Daybreakers by Louis L'Amour, number three of The Sacketts.
9.Guns of the Timberlands by Louis L'Amour. On all of these L'Amour books his name on the cover is at least twice the size of the title.
10. The Fastest Gun in Texas by J. T. Edson, an English author who "had no desire to live in the wild west or ride a horse." (See Wikipedia article on J. T. Edson) Has sold over 11 million books!!!! Still alive and kicking, see his Facebook page.
11. A Death in Indian Wells by Lewis B. Patten. Wrote MANY westerns.
12. West of the Wolverine by Paul Evan Lehman.
13. The Feud at Single Shot by Luke Short. One of my favorite authors.
14. Knights of the Range by Zane Grey. Nothing more needs to be said about Mr. Grey.
15. Raccoon John Smith by Louis Cochran. 1899-1974. Mr. Cochran was a former FBI agent and spy for the Air Force during WWII.

AND

16.Reflections from the Wilderness by Stoney Greywolf Bowers, published by Moonlight Mesa Associates, Inc., a book of poetry from his life as a cowboy.

Many good books to read and not enough time in the day.

2011-09-22T11:16:00.000-07:00

Excerpt from Chapter 12, The Upamona Gold Claim Wrangle, my second novel:

   The fire in the stove was nothing but ashes when old man Sanglant was aroused from his slumber by a loud banging on his front door followed by someone yelling.
     "You in the there, Mr. Sanglant? I'm here to get my buggy! It's Bishop Priest!"
     "Hold on there, Bishop. I'll be right out. Just got to get my trousers on and some boots. Hold on!"
   He sat on the bed for a minute, trying to wake up. He felt the bump on the back of his head and on his back below the shoulders and reached for his pants. "I'm a little stiff and sore this morning after that tumble," he mumbled to himself. He pulled on his boots and stomped to the door.
   "Morning to you, Bishop," said Sanglant. "I had a late night and woke up with a big knot on my head and a sore back. How are you this morning? Can I get you a cup of coffee? I need something like that to help me get awake. Come in a minute."
   He hadn't noticed, nor did the Bishop, that he was walking upright, as he turned around and went toward the stove.
   "I don't care for any coffe, but I'll visit with you while you drink some," said the Bishop following Sanglant. "Is Slim around this morning? I'd like to ask him a couple questions about yesterday."
   "Nope, he ain't . Not here and I don't know where he went. He didn't have nothing to do with shooting Mr. Toller, though. He told me it was Graves that done it. That Graves and Fish are no-goods. Don't know why Slim hired them in the first place," Sanglant said, taking a seat by the kitchen table after starting a fire in the stove to heat up his coffee.
   "It just occurred to me Mr. Sanglant. Stand up, will you, and let me get a good look at you."
     Sanglant stood up as requested like anybody would.
     "What's going on here, Sanglant? You're not all bent over like before. You just been acting like that for some reason?"
     "My God, Bishop! You're right, and I didn't even notice it. Just seemed like the normal thing I do every day. This is a miracle, Bishop. Let me walk around a bit to make sure I'm actually standing up straight. By God, this is something, ain't it? I can stand straight. It must've been that tumble from the wagon. Woops. Bishop, I didn't mean to take the Lord's name in vain, I didn't. But, by God, this is a miracle, ain't it? I can just see me now. I don't have to look at all those damn rocks and dirt anymore. I can parley with the horses face to face now. By God. Oops. Sorry, Bishop. That just slipped out."
      "You better sit down before you break your back again and tell me, where's my buggy that you stole last night? You're a lucky man, Sanglant. Yessir, a lucky man, I say, and if God wasn't my witness, you'd be in a heap of trouble. But, I know that you didn't do it with any bad intentions with all the excitement going on at the store, and we both have just witnessd the Lord's work in standing you up straight again, so I ain't going to do anything about it as long as my horse and new buggy is still in good condition. If you'll just tell me where you hid it, I'll get it and be on my way. And I'll expect you in church Sunday to thank the Lord for his blessings."

Copyrighted material.

This book is available at amazon.com at the Kindle Store and other fine bookstores.

Thirty Days to the Most Powerful Vocabulary

2011-09-18T09:52:00.000-07:00

Recently I picked up a copy of 30 Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary with the intention of actually learning more words to add to my mental dictionary. Immediately upon arriving home (well, it wasn't exactly immediately, say two or three days later), I dug right into it, eyes wide open, brain waiting to absorb, and hands turning the pages. YES, I said to myself, this is exactly what I need. I'll be able to throw in my books all sorts of big and little words, so much so that it will amaze everyone how my writing has improved. Ambidexterous, now that's a big word that carries a lot of meaning, I'll just file it away in the lobes of me brain for good use. I didn't learn that word in that book, though. I heard somebody say it when I was maybe 14 or 15 and it has stuck with me ever since. See what I mean about learning and building your vocabulary.

But the heck of it is, I haven't found a place in my writing to actually put it in a spot where it will do the most good. I thought about using it in a sentence describing a two-handed gunslinger, you know, "Slim Jim was ambidexterous all right. He plugged Black John with both barrels at the same time, he did." HELL, we all know that no cowboy talked thataway, so I've never used it. It's too multifarious for anything like that.

I buckled down and ensconced my schnozzola in the pages of that book and before you knew it, I had another word pop into my cerebellum, "scorbutic," a perfect word to put in a description somewhere, if I can just find where. AHA! Found it. "Joe looked scorbutic lying on that scurvy laden bear skin." Nope. We all know that bears don't have scurvy, only humans. At least, I never heard of it. I guess maybe it would fit, he could still look that way to the beholder, but it isn't a very good word.

Well that's enough for the first day. What a great book! I've already learned two new words just by opening it up, even though they weren't in there. I can see my writing improving already.

More "Saloons of the Old West"

2011-09-15T14:03:00.000-07:00

True to my word for a change, here's some more words on the subject book:

Chapter 4's heading is Walnut, Glass and Brass, and it discusses the interior decoration of the saloons with descriptions and photos of some of the large wooden bars and mirrors that the owners put up to entice the "red noses." They were quite a contrast to the dreary exteriors of many of the buildings in the old west.

Chapter 5 explains the bartenders, and talks about some of the characters, good and bad, who mixed the drinks good and bad, and tells of one of the females punching out a heavyweight boxer.

Chapter 6 - Painting One's Nose discusses the customers, the various types of drinkers up until Prohibition sets in. The cowboys, miners, those passing through towns, salesmen, politicians, their drinking habits and attitudes.

Chapter 7 reviews the concoctions drunk by the miners, cowboys, easterners, and everyone else and how much. Some of the drinks were laced with turpentine, gun powder, chili peppers, fusil oil, and what have you. Anything that was handy was added, good or not. The "firewater" was terrible, but was made that way to show the Indians it wasn't plain, old water and the seller would light it up to demonstrate that it wasn't water.

Chapter 8 goes on about the sleeping arrangements and the food provided in the saloons. From the downright nasty-tasting starters to the luxurious offerings of the gold strike days, even a short bit on the Harvey Girls and also the Free Lunch days.

Chapter 9 covers the uses of the saloons for preaching and funerals. It describes some of the history and early preachers of the west - the fire and brimstone types to the more normal preachers who drank and ones who didn't, the con artists who used religion to buy his poke and sleeping accommodations, and the saloon as a funeral parlor - A pretty funny chapter.

Chapter 10 reviews the meteing out of justice by the judges and juries in the old west. Some of the sentences handed down were humorous and some (most, it seems) deadly. As an example, in Montana a man was hung after he was killed by the hometowners as being "dangerous."

More in a later post after I catch up on reading.

Richard Erdoes, Author

2011-09-11T08:07:00.000-07:00

Before I get to Mr. Erdoes, I would like to remind everyone of the western short-story competition at www.ropeandwire.com. Check it out for submission guidelines, rules, etc. I had a problem when I tried this link, even though it tested fine. If you have the same problem, just enter it into your browser and hit search. And be sure to check out the website, it's terrific!

Now, on to Mr. Erdoes. Richard Erdoes wrote several books about the West and the American Indians and I ran across one of his books, Saloons of the Old West, a few months ago not having heard of him. I looked him up on the internet and found a newspaper, The Lakota Country Times, which had an article about him on July 24, 2008. The article stated that he had passed away at the age of 96.and the funeral was held July 22, 2008, at the El Rancho de la Golondrinas in Santa Fe, NM. (See article here: www.lakotacountrytimes.com/news/2008-07-24/front_page/)

Some blogs may have already mentioned his death, but it's new to me, and I'm really enjoying his Saloons... , and have written about it once or twice before (last time was May 29). I can't believe it's been four months, but I've had many interruptions, and like I've said before, I'm a slow reader, getting slower all the time.

Mr. Erdoes came from Austria and joined in the marches and meetings of the American Indian Movement and was also a Photographer and Illustrator. His many books include, Lame Deer, American Indian Myths & Legends, Legends and Tales of the American West, The Sun Dance People, and others.

Next post, will have some more on Saloons of the Old West.

Labor Day is Over

2011-09-08T08:25:00.000-07:00

[NOTE: The picture in the heading is BOOT HILL. At least that's what we called it as kids growing up in this small town in northeast UT. Several relatives are buried there, including my older sister and her husband, an aunt and uncle, and others. The town is no longer there, but the ranches and some of the houses are still around.]

Wow, what a weekend! It is memorable from all the inactivity that took place in my house. We have the habit.... or I should say I have the habit.....of asking the wife if she wants to go somewhere and eat breakfast. I find that getting out first thing livens up my system and prepares it for the day. Most of the time the wife answers in the affirmative, but not always and Labor Day was such that she preferred to eat out. We went to a local restaurant and I had a fine breakfast of biscuits and gravy, the "artery clogger" from all the sausage fat and gravy fat and what have you fat, a true western-type belly favorite. The wife had a bagel, fried on the grill, with cream cheese and a small "jugo de naranja" (orange juice). Labor Day was off to a terrific start.

While waiting for the fat to arrive, I observed the other patrons surreptitiously. Just the other day I overheard a lady telling her dinner companion that "if you don't have a walker, a wheelchair, or a cane, you're not allowed in here," and she let out a squeal of laughter at her little joke. I laughed too, because I thought it was pretty funny as I thought about it. The population of Sun City is 99% old people and we all have to eat somewhere. I commented to the wife, "And on top of that, most of them have to drive here, too," which I thought was even funnier. I don't mean this in a mean or derogatory way, it's more like the character of the old guy on the Carol Burnett Show, Tim Conway, as he barely could walk all bent over with a cane, "running" across the stage. Funny! About half the times we go there, I hold the door for somebody having a hard time getting in or out, and once in awhile I'll ask the wife, "Which one is doing the driving?"

But I have to hand it to the older people, they still have enough interest to get out and about even if they do have an accident now and again, and I say more power to 'em. They don't let minor inadequacies get in their way of having a good time. The lady down the street is in her nineties and she still drives, albeit not much. She drove herself to a party a couple doors up the street last Saturday night and may have had a glass or two of wine (or may not). She pretty much keeps her driving to the length of the street, since she can't walk as good as she used to. And the feller on the other end is approaching 95, if a day, and he just stopped riding his bicycle around the neighborhood. I saw him out trimming his rosebushes a few days ago.

Once you lose interest in doing anything, you may as well cash in your chips, because it's about over anyway. That reminds me, I have a class tonight on something or other that I signed up for a couple months ago. I'll have to get there early (my bedroom office) and turn on the PC to get it warmed up and sign in. I sure hope it isn't a waste of time, since my time is running short in the overall scheme of things. But, then I got that book signing to go to in Sedona next month. I hope I don't have an accident on the way up there. I'd sure hate to miss that.

I better get back to my book writing. Give me a hand, will you? My right leg is a little off kilter today.

Writing

2011-09-04T08:59:00.000-07:00

I've probably put a few instances in my scribblings that may have required or been susceptible to relating an occurrence with words similar to this, but I don't think I would use them in a western, as I think it is too fancy and high-minded. What I'm talking about is James Fenimore Cooper putting these words in the mouth of his Doctor Battius pondering his recognition of the beekeeper in his book, The Prairie, which appears on page 105 of the Signet Classic paper back:

"The principal characteristics of your countenance, friend," he said, "are familiar; either you or some other specimen of your class is known to me."

Of course, it fits right in with the language used by the doctor, so it isn't out of place here, but I think it would be a prelude to an altercation of sorts, if someone had said that to one of my cowboy characters.

"Why you horn-tailed ole devil callin' me a spess'mun of sum'thin er other will git ye a ribcage full of .45 cairtrijes if'n ya think ya know me er not. I'll be damned if'n I ain't no friend a yer'n!" the so-called stranger said, pulling his long-barreled pistol and aiming it at the little man in a black suit and neck-squeezing string tie who was taking a bite of dripping buffalo hump.

Anyway, that's why I enjoy reading old books like The Prairie and Wolfville that are written and published with the reflection of the language in use that the author deemed fit for the circumstances, as compared to today, when publishers require that there be no dialects or slangish use. It's just too hard for the readers to plow through! No, I think it is the printers, editors, and publishers who don't want to put in the extra effort thinking it won't sell. And it may not, but I'm just a cantankerous old conservative who likes things the way they are or were.

Excerpt from novel

2011-09-01T12:26:00.000-07:00

Here's a page from Chapter 3 of tentatively titled The Long-time Posse. Cyrus Ocklund, Sheriff of High Bench, has hired a Ute to be his deputy since no white man wanted the job after the former deputy was found strangled to death.
______________

Billy Yellowtree [nickname Custard - explained in Chap 2] was 24 years old, still unmarried as far as I knew, at least, that's what he told me, and somewhat egotistical, vain, and arrogant. He wore his hair in two long braids that hung down in front over his shoulders most of the time, tied at the ends with red ribbon, no headband, but had a gray cowboy hat to shade his brown eyes.

   Custard was sitting behind the desk in my chair with his moccasined feet resting on the desktop and his hat pulled down over his upper face sound asleep, I thought, when I returned to the office.

   "I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Sheriff," said the Ute, stopping me from pushing his legs off the desk.

   I looked at him, not believing what I heard, and then I saw the pistol aimed at my chest.

"Whoa, now, Custard, ain't that a little drastic, pulling your gun on the boss?"

     The Ute let out a loud laugh, "Got you there, Boss. You thought I was sawing logs as the white men say, but I was wide awake watching to see what you were going to do."

     He put his feet on the floor and stood up with a big smile on his face.

     "That ain't very funny," I said, "but you got me all right. Don't you ever sleep?"

     "You bet. I'm going to go lie down right now on that cot in the cell and sleep 'til I wake up."

     "Don't you want to go home for awhile?"

     "This my home now," he said, laying down and turning his face to the wall after taking off his moccasins and hanging his hat on a wooden peg.

     I sat down at the desk for a few minutes, and then got up and walked to the post ofice.

     "How you doing today, Sheriff? Got any leads yet on who might've killed Hank?" asked the postmaster.

     "Nothing yet, Fred. Did I get any mail this time?"

     "Just one envelope, is all. I hear you hired a Ute for a deputy?"

     "Mighty fine deputy he is, too," I said.

     "The town ain't going to like that."

     "They might not like it today, but they will, mark my words," I said, going out the door.

{Copyrighted material.]

Letter from Provincetown, MA, Sep 1831

2011-08-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

With Hurricane Irene bearing down on the northeast, you will read of a similar occurrence and what it was like on board a fishing vessel in Boston Harbor in 1831 in this letter from Lawrence to his mother.

                                             "Provincetown Harbor      August Sept 13th 1831

"Dear Mother -- It was with the greatest pleasure I received yours dated the 3d Sept from Hartford. I have been waiting along time & expected a host of news but I got but little = How did you get to granby what boat or stage did you go on what did it cost you &c I left Boston August 16th at 3 in the afternoon reached Provincetown about midnight. The next two days we took in stores for the fishing Season = On Saturday the 28th we bought our Oil Clothes &c. I bought a Suit of Oil Clothes a plate Spoon Knife & Fork - After fitting out we all Signed the Shipping paper & hauled out into the Harbour where we lay over Sunday - This place is one of the greatest curiosities I have Seen -- There is nothing but Sand, Wind Mills Salt works Bowers for drying fish & Fishing Craft -- I have counted 71 wind mills from the wharf & most of them in operations -- the whole place is one heap of Sand -- They canot Step out the door without Sinking in nearly over Shoe & horses Sink nearly half knee dep in main Street -- After leaving the Harbour we went out a few miles from the cape caught 36 wash bbls the first week the next about 30 - I caught a bbl Barrel in 3 or 4 hours one day & the Second day after that another = Fishing is something like hunting Some days we find plenty of Fish have to work all day Some times till in the evening but more than half the time we have nothing to do - We generally have [Suehy?] or breakfast before daylight & one at out [and are at] fishing posts by day break Our principal food is Curley bread, Chowder, Dough Nuts - Furniture Bloaters, White Cakes, Rice Beans Pilot-brad & Salt beuf & [ ? ] the worst kind of food for a Dyspeptic - - I was Sea Sick Several times so as to vomit a little but it has done no good I have been half froze every time I am Sick have had no appetite Stomach seems constantly foul Have felt very week & Stupid almost the whole time have been very Costive had to Take a good deal of Physic - Expected when I cam abord it would right the averse - It is now three weeks Since I cam abord & I am not as well as I was then - The other young man who is unwell has been affected in the same way Says he has been growing weak ever Since come on bourd - The food is the worst kind - I have bought Some Rye meal am now living principally on Course Bread -- Think I shal not Stay on board loner than the first of October do not know where to go then perhaps to New Haven -- I forgot to day we Shall not probabaly go to the bay of Shiloe [?] that we have been only 20 = or 30 miles from Provincetown have been in the Harbour once a week = Last Wednesday & Thursday lay in the Harbour during the Storm which lasted two days it blew a real gale vessels came in with reefed gibs & fore sails the waves rooled into the Harbour So as to make the vessel role & pitch dreadfully = Sometimes the waves would brak over Deck & come into the Cabin - If we shut the doors the Smoke would not Suffer us to Stay in the Cabin - So we left the Doors open all turned in & covered up to try to keep warm = we have to take turns in Cooking Each one Cooks one day in Eight = One of our men is now Sick on Shore with a Diarhrea I think The Dyspeptic from Boston Says he has been growing week ever Since he cam one Board & cannot Stand it much longer = He has been trying the Graham System of living entirely on vegitables & bathing daily & recommends it very highly for dyspeptics - Thinks it has helped him has lived principally on Sago & gruel while on bourd = I received a number of the Graham Journals from a young man in Boston, think I shal adopt the System & live principally on Dyspeptic Bread & milk - Perhaps I shal try traveling on foot = Think by the time I had walked from Boston to New Haven I should [word missing] much better but if I walk you will know it when I get there -- Write to me when you receive this & tell me everything that thing that has taken place since I left you = I want to know all about how is your helath how is grandma = I think you had better Stay untill Justin comes by all means this is the last time you will ever come here perhaps = I think if you & gandma would partially adopt the Grahm System live on Bread made of unbolted wheat or Rye flour potatoes Rice Oisters Clams & fish leave of Tea & Coffee eat no greasy food & none than all get a large tita sponge or Flesh brush & a very course towel & use them every morning when you first get up Cold or warm weather you would soon get used to it & I think you would find a decided advantage from it = Walk out more; don't stay Shut up all the time because you are weak that is the way to remain so = you can walk a short distance & gradually increase the distance = I have written this by ad spels just as I could cattch them when the Skipper & the most of the others were alseep & the vessel not rolling much = There are 5 or 6 now in their bunks snoozing & I am tucked up to a little board shelf which they call the Table with my feet on the Skippers Chest trying to scribble a letter - I forgot to mention that Frank a methodist man is one of our number he has a family has lately experienced Religion is almost constantly talking of religion & his experince is a nice man - Write as soon you get this & direct to Provincetown = I have not heard from home since we left the little you wrote - I think I shall not go to Boston before your letter reaches here but am not certain = It will probably take 12 days for a letter to go & return -----
                                                          I am your Son -
                                                          L. B. ________"

Being an old swabby, I enjoyed reading about his travails and fishing. It doesn't sound like he is cut out to be a sailor, but he's gaining some good experience in seamanship, etc. The gale that whipped through there may have been the remnants of a hurricane similar to Irene. Hang on, Lawrence, it'll soon be over! What are curley bread, furniture bloaters, and pilot bread? I think furniture bloaters are biscuits, similar to what we called bloaters. The Navy was still serving beans and corn bread for breakfast when I was in.

Correspondence of the 1830's

2011-08-25T07:28:00.000-07:00

"I find the medicine worse than the malady." - Beaumont and Fletcher--Love's Cure

"I firmly believe that if the whole materia medica as now used, could be sunk to the bottom of the sea, it would be all the better for mankind and all the worse for the fishes." - Holmes--Lecture, Medical Society

"His antidotes are poison, and he slays more than you rob." - Shakespeare--Timon of Athens, Act IV. Sc. 3.

I have selected some excerpts from the correspondence instead of copying complete, boring letters. These relate to the Doctors, Medicine, and Health of the writers and friends. Note: English and spelling is same as in the letter.

"The night before I got to Utica I staid to Mr. Barton's who married a cousin of mine he told me of a Celebrated botanist Doctor ----(?)----- non-apothecary who lived near him he advised us to return to his house and make a trial of his medicine I went to see the Doct told him hur complaint, he said he could help hur we returned to Mr. Bartons on Monday last.

"This Monday July 19th - Dear Friends as We had informed you above we are here in York state - waiting a blessing on some barks roots and herbs made into sirrups with adition of best brandy I began taking it Wednesday the effect has not ben just as I could have desired but the Doct thinks it favorable so far hope to start Wednesday for Unkle Phelps if my health will allow. --------------------The Doct who prepares the recipe practices almost altogether on old lingering complaints has a peculiar talent for judging and his success is wonderful in curing Consumptions Cancers Liver Complaints fever-sores Hreumatism etc. proofs and scars of which may be seen any time. He was a regular bred physician practiced a few years- - - he seldom undertakes fevers - This is a miserable little village here immediately on the Canal which is all that keeps a single inhabitant here low warm and muddy tis not very pleasant but many are glad to put up here and wait on the boat. For healing the blood or rather his medicines to cleanse the blood the medicine had reduced me a trifle but nor more than was expected I had gained considerable when I got to Utica. There I was detained 3 days have not been quite as well since -- awhole sheet would not contain all I should like to tell you about Capt Griswolds family They have buried 5 children within the last 5 years 2 most promising sons over 20 and 3 little children. She says the loss of the little ones cannot compare with the others. The sons were most affectionate pleasant genteel young men both in persons dispositions and manners perfectly resigned to their lot met death with calmness. - The 6 children that remains appear to me the nearest perfection of any I have seen before. ----------- Mrs. G's friends father mother and sisters have all died lately with consumption.

"I do not recollect but 2 places where we did not have a great many fleas and bed bugs till we got to this place except at Utica ----- I have not yet found you a treatment Sophronia but shall some time ---- The small pox is said to be about not far off. -----------when we come home if that should ever be we shall bring Recipes for Cancers and so forths. This Doc Corson is an old flashy cross eyed rather ill looking man and has been known to take to much spirits many times ---- but never when attending business - he has a miserable shiftless family but all this does not affect me. Him and his assistant have more 300--patients all old chronic disceases and all doing well"

In another letter, the same person makes some more remarks on health:

"A number are dying around with Cholera Morbus & dysentary but Doc C--has not lost one and has many under his care The preparation of his medicine requires considerable labor and the carriage of kegs bottles budgets back and side plaster is something ----3 men are imployed in this W. has sometimes assisted in............. of carying him and his medicine--and you no doubt have guess by this time that W is well pleased with this manner of doctering or we should not have staid here 5 weeks and more and he is still desirous of staying longer-- The Doctor passes here about 3 times a week so we have an opportunity of seeing and getting medicine"

Well, I hope she regained her health, but life expectancy in those days was about 40! Maybe if the people returned to that type of health care, the health care problem would take care of itself. Yeah, sure. The canal mentioned is the Erie Canal and boat transport. It traveled about five miles an hour and some people walking would get to a destination before the boat.

The next post will be a complete letter from a son to his mother. The son, Lawrence, goes to Provincetown to try his luck at fishing and life on the sea.

1812 and '13 correspondence

2011-08-21T11:28:00.000-07:00

"We give up the fort when there's not a man left to defend it." - General Croghan. At Fort Stevenson. (1812)

"But war's a game, which, were their subject wise,
Kings would not play at."
   Cowper---The Task

"Carry his body hence!
Kings must have slaves:
Kings climb to eminence
Over men's graves:
So this man's eye is dim;
Throw the earth over him!"
       Henry Austin Dobson -- Before Sedan

STOP IT, I say. Enough with the quotations today. No, by golly, we must have one more.

"There is a divinity that shapes our
ends,
Rough-hew them how we will."
   Hamlet, Act V. Sc 2.

And the following is rough-hewn for sure. Here are a couple of letters written in 1812 and 1813 during the war against the British. I transcribed them from a copy of the original handwritten letters provided me by the Ohio State Historical Society with all their cross-outs and mis-spellings. This first one was from (Joel?) Buttles to his sister, Julia, who married one of my distant relatives about two hundred years ago.

"Camp near Detroit             July 7th 1812

"Dear Sis,

   After a fateaguing march of 25 days we arived[crossed out] pitched our tents on the pleasant bank[crossed out] long saut for bank of Detroit River within three miles of the Town and a butiful situation it is. We are oposite Sandwige a small Britsh Town on the other side of the River, but I expect it will be smaller before another day is at an end, for we calcilate to give them a hundred or two cannon balls for their brefast in the morning which will undoubtedly destroy it. When we arive at the rapids of the Maumee the army put their most precious plunder aboard a small Skooner which had come up for that purpose, likewise thee ware about 30 sick persons on board, them the vessel and plunder all fell into the hands of the British at Fort (Mauldin?), had on board 15 dollers being the money I sold the sword for which was all I had and every rag of clothes except what I had on my back, and them was the very poorest I had. having to go throw the brush and swamps I thot it best to put on the poorest I had, so I am in a ----(?) sore situation without either money, or clothes even to exchange to cash, The money ..... (illegible, including signature}."

This one is to Miss Julia Buttles, Granby, Connecticut, from Cynthia Barker, Montague, Ohio:

"Montague     September 19th, 1813

"Dear friend

     "I this moment have received your letter dated June 11th and am rejoiced to hear that you are pleased with your relations &amp;amp; acquaintances; and I hope and trust you are in good health, and dear Julia, remember that health is the greatest of blessings, and while you are in possession of it, tis easier to keep it; than it is regained when once lost, be very careful about taking cold, from the unhealthy evening air as much as possible; when you go out be sure and pout on cloaths so as to prevent taking cold, but why should I write this since you so often have heard this from my mouth, and if you had not certainly it would be needless - - If you stay this winter you must have wollen cloaths, remember you cannot wear cotton as you have done in Ohio. I hope you will be provided for; besure if you go the journey which you mention --- I shall not see Worthingon this winter, brother Noah intends going in the course of 3 or 4 weeks Betsy talks of going with him, ----(illegible) Case, he expects to carry, and one Mr. Bradley, his wife, and one child talk of going with him, I think it probable they will go, as they are wishing to move to that Country - - Noah had a letter this day from his father Griswold, he makes no mention of your mother or any of the family (Quintha's?) babe is very sick. Emily Griswold is taken again with the fever, Nancy Taylor lay at the point of death, Hezekiah Benedict's wife is dead; (Hiry?) Wilcox had moved down from the forks of Whetstone for fear of the Indians; his wife was taken stone blind, ands lay at the pooiint of death. Luther Case's wife sent for the doctor the day before he wrote - he says that Doctor Wills has more business than he can do - - The Indians are getting to be thick very ner them; they have come as near as Lewis Settlement on Athen Creek not ten miles for Worthington (3 nights before he wrote, which was August, 30th) guns have been fired on both sides but not any of our people killed, it is supposed that one or two of the Indians were killed by the appearance of blood, the days after, for thee wre to differnt times, and places that they were fired at; but (Tyre, Tyne??) G. says that our people are in full chase after them, and he believes they will soon be glad to clear out; just as he had finished his letter, news arrived of the defeat of our fleet on the lower lake with the loss of two of our vessels sunk and two taken - - - WORSE & WORSE - - -

"I have not had any letter from Worthington since Mr. Barker left here, if your Mother had not been better I think Capt Griswold would have mentioned it, as to your returning this fall you you are the best judge You recollect undoubtedly our converstions the day we parted. I can say no more now, if you should wish to return write to me immediately - if not write to your deat Mother, if she has recovered she will be pleased to have you visit your Uncle in Newport(?)

"I expect soon to hear from L.C.L. M, and this day I finished writing to the Harmony Society - when I hear anything particular I shall write to you - which I go to Branford is uncertain ; should you go to Newport let me know where to direct my letterrs for I must write to you often and you must do the same - I have been perhaps ten minutes writing this, but must stop for to morrow morning it must go to the office - - I remain in health yiour sincere and unalterable friend - etc. - Cynthia Barker

----------------------------

"Monday evening - -

      "Dear Julia I expected to have sent this early this morning to the Office but was disappointe - - Now Julia I must beg your pardon for the above scratch ; I knew not how bad it was written, until day light appeared but as I have not time to coppy it; to you it will go, you have seen my writing before, and I know Sister Julia will accept it, as soon as though it was ever so neat and handsome.. - O! Julia what a beautiful evening it is and now I expect the girls are sitting in Harmony can I think of this without a thought of past days - but am I not ungrateful for the blessings which I have received, and am still receiving; while I was there sickness; nor any work ever prevented me from attending every meeting, and is there another one in the society which can say the same? I think you will say; not one - but this evening I feel rather lonesome - Julia is gone; when if you was here we could sing Harmony songs, but now I am two melancholly to sing, my thoughts wander all over the arth, wherever I was, or my friends, but now I will center them here and tell you something respecting our family - my father is very well; Mother had a sore come on her fore finger, on her right hand which took away her strength so that for several days she was confied to her bed (this sore began to appear a day or two after I cam from Branford but did not confine her until the week after) she has now _______[word missing] much better but cannot do any thing with her hand as yet; and the finger still looks very bad; she can ride about; and has for a week past gained strength very fast - Betsey is weaving, Nancy spinning, and Cynthia prepares something for them to eat, when you left here our wool was just begun, now it is most done; and some of our mens wear will be ready to make next week, after that we prepare for Noah and Betsey I think will be ready for them to start, a fortnight from this; - - the more I think of your Mother; the more I think she has recoverd from her sickness, or so as to be confortabel, Julia it appears to me that I must see you this fall; and should I go to Branford through Granby I shall go and find you; if not, I shall write to you which will perhaps be within 3 weeks from this, though I cannot tell certain; - - write me lengthy letters, tell me every thing which concerns you, and while so doing remember ____________[illegible], your friend, Cynthia Barker
My friends send their love to you, wish you happiness & prosperity."

That was the first two letters of the series and I can't see much difference in the personal thoughts of these two than between two people in today's times. Ohio was on the frontier in those days and a formal education was at a premium, although some people received a good education in the east before traveling to the West. I feel sorry for Joel Buttles losing all his clothes and cash to the British, and can't help but think that their trek to Detroit was a miserable one. The letters jump ahead to the 1830's of which I will post a couple of the more interesting ones next time.

New Heading

2011-08-18T07:55:00.000-07:00

There is no new thing under the sun. - Ecclesiastes, I.9

Is there anything whereof it may be said, See, this is new? It hath been already of old time, which was before us. - Ecclesiastes, I.10

And so I found out when I thought about changing the name of this blog to depersonalize it. I was going to use the following:

But, I thought I'd better check to see if it had been used, and it had. I already knew it, as this is a real common title of a popular western song sung by our third grade class in elementary school in the '30's. I think most of the hillbilly singers have recorded a version of it at one time or another. The named blog is very nice, though, and can be checked out here: www.mausersandmuffins.blogspot.com. A lot of good info on gun-handling and shooting, mostly for women, but men can take advantage of it.

So I moved on to this:

And was going to use it, but it was just too dark, and someone else has probably already used it somewhere. I might add it to the heading if I can figure out how to super-impose it. What the heck is he doin' out there in the middle of the night? I hope he don't get any on his boots.

That left only this:

Spurs! Actually, fake spurs that couldn't be worn even if a person tried. Besides,there is already a blog with Spurs in the name, so that's out. (See spurandlock.blogspot.com)

I could use all three and call it something like "The Cowboy and Spurs at Home on the Range." Don't like it, too long, and besides, I ain't no dern cowpoke, even though I have ridden a horse a couple of times or two. I know what "gee" and "haw" is or was. Do they still use those terms?

Guess we'll have to wait and see if there will be a name change.

Otherwise Occupied

2011-08-14T09:06:00.000-07:00

These past couple of weeks I've been busier than a two-tailed horse ankle deep in a swamp brushing flies and mosquitoes from its flanks. First, it was looking after two great-grandsons, ages 7 and 8, for the last three weeks, and second, it was company from out of town. Don't get me wrong, if I'm going to be over-busy, I would just as soon do it this way. We had barrels of fun bowling, eating, movie-going, eating, antiquing, zoo-ing, shopping, eating, and what have you, but it left no time for much else, other than a glass of red wine before and during dinner. Just following the doctor's orders with the wine. I'm re-aquiring my alcoholic taste, or is it taste for alcohol? Anyway, we had a blast.

I haven't reported much about my book-signing and sales activity recently, or forever for that matter. I may have mentioned it in passing, but in June I sold six books while camped out on a Mesa sidewalk watching the people go by at the 2nd Friday Night Out event from six to ten PM. After the sun went down behind the cactus to the west, the temperature dropped all the way down to about ninety degrees. What a welcome relief! Six books sold is better than six books still in the box, but I don't expect to become a mill---- to make much money at this, yet.

The next event was in July at some new shops opening up in Surprise, AZ. The setup was inside and not bad - at least it was cool. Traffic hadn't been built up yet, it being too new, but all-in-all, it was tolerable and about half the people who came walking by during the two eight-hour days bought a book, running the total sold clear up to SIX again. Like I said, I don't expect to become a milli----to make much money at this, yet. Six books sold is better than six books in the box in the closet.

The next big event will be in Sedona, AZ, on October 1 at the Yavapai College site there, the Sedona Book Festival. Maybe I can run up the sales to seven or even eight books sold. If I can set up a signing before then somewhere that would spur me on to the October Event and pacify my senses, maybe, and my cents's. This is courtesy of the Arizona Authors Association, which will bring out the people. The weather will be nice and what else do you need in Sedona among the red rocks?

End of Trip to Illinois

2011-08-11T13:00:00.000-07:00

"January 1st 1830
"Got up and proposed to have horse for the Captain to ride to W MColla' on the St Louis road as they informed us, the road was not open from that place to Vandalia, disantce 57 miles but on hearing the amount they were about to charge the sum of the $4. we came to the conclusion we would go till our legs dropped off and then ....(?).... -- We paid our bill each 37 cents - and put off on foot - a SW direction across prairie continued so for about 8 miles, came to Post Oak timber and scrubby underbrush continued some distance until sunset and did not make road as we calculated came into Open prairie, saw a smoke about a mile west of us and put to it found ourselves 5 miles from M Calla's where we calculated to get to, put up for the night a dish of tainted pork sporbs(?) venison and fried cabbage without either salt or vinegar, Slept on the floor. 3 or 4 bottle shaped females (girls) as dirty as sin as lazy as the devil, paid at the Hog pen where we stayed last night - 12 1/2 cents

"Jan 2d 1830
"Started across prairie ad woods to M. M Callas stated to be only 5 miles found it to be 7. got there 10 o'clock AM. On the S. Louis road whee it crosses the Little Wabash. made a bargain with M Calla to carry us to Vandalia 50 miles paid stage here $3.33 1/2
Breakfast .25
and started across woods by an old road left the little village of maysville to our left get there in 2 mi to 6 mi. Prairie then a point of timber then 12 miles to Mr. Dunham on the edge of grand prairie 22 miles from M Callas on a rise of gournd a delightful looking place. Couldn't help in crossing the prairie of thinking how many poor worthless devils that live in my native place, might with a small spice of enterprise come here and live rent and tax free like kings.

"January 3d 1830
"Paid Dunham 31 1/4 cents
Crossed the Grand Prairie called 13 miles, nigher 16. Looked delightful dry rolling hills with small ravines running through it land said to be good, marsh and road muddy 12 o'clock breakfasted on the west edge of prairie a poor breakfast, paid 25 cents.
With the exception of two mile prairies from thence to Vandalia all timbered land and the last 2 miles very muddy on the Kaskaskia river bottom about impossible some good rail timber on the last 12 miles, Sunset Vandalia poeple from all parts of the state -
Delivered letter to Mr Tillson of Hillsboror
Do to D. E. Cuyler of St Louis
   Mr Sanburn
All the above introduced themselves, Mr Tillson informed me he has written brother Leonard 4 weeks ago. Stopped at M. Duncans called at the Post office no letters or papers -
Bills up to this time $24.89 3/4

"January 4th 1830 -
   Paid Duncan .75
           Barber - .06 1/4
Rather a gloomy day my boots worn out took them to the Shoemakers to mend left Col Duncans and took lodgings at Mr Lees where matters and things looked a little more neat than at Col Duncans and less crowded . Called at the Auditors office with the Corporal where he has business took special notice of the people and especially all who appeared to act in the office. lst a young stripling of a boy 21 or 2 years of age and as pompous a young lad as I ever saw - Chief Steward and Book Keeper --
2d - a man say about 30 years of age a thin spare man with a roll(?) foot"

[Well, that's where he stopped writing about this trip. Did he ever make it to Illinois or is he in Illinois? Hell, I don't know. From there he went into his family history. Himself, Zophar, was born in 1804, married Mary E. Halstead Mar 20th 1833 - had children - Elizabeth who married Robt L. Moore Oct 28, 1857, Henry, Augusta, Edward, Hardin, Zophar, Warren, Ellen, Leonard, Mary, Dan'l who died in infancy, Eckstein and Georgeanna who got burned and died. 13 kids. I'm assuming he returned to Ohio (or Pennsylvania where his mother was born Oct 16th 1761 in the forks of Youlhagany - Westmoreland Co Pa.) His brother Leonard born July 29, 1786 was an interesting story, which I might get into in a future post or you can read about it in the history of Case Western Reserve University if you are so inclined. This is NOT my branch of the Case family.]

Journal Continues

2011-08-04T09:14:00.000-07:00

"Dec 27th 1829 After havaing paid bill passed down the river country not very pleasant, rather a gloomy day being Sunday did not row very hard at 25 miles Attica on the East Bank of the Wabash 2 o'clock PM Continued down river 8 miles to Portland. Sunset calculated to stop 9 miles further down at Covington in the dark out of humor but Mr. Clark and Capt Wilkinson were on the lookout and did not see it, or were a little obstinate and would not see it at 7 miles further down Terrysville 9 o'clock PM. on the West bank of the Wabash a very small town did not see it - Am in rather ill humor on account of running so late at night.
"Expenses $0.93 3/4 Bought shirt $1.50 (calico)

"December 28 - 1829
" Mr.English, Store and Tavern Keeper Started at 5 o'clock AM across the country 7 miles to Eugene a little village on on the Vermillion 3 miles from the mouth to collect a debt for Mr. J. L. Congor (...?...) against Dock Richard Taylor crossed the Vermillion West to the Doctor Doctor not at home keeps tavern fine prarie farms from Terrysvill to Eugene Mills at Eugene, thence down the Vermillion to the mouth to wait for Capt Wilkinson and Mr Clarke to come up with the canoe 9 miles by the river they arrived at the mouth of the Vermillion's after 10 o'clock Continued down the river to Montezuma on the East Bank of the river 30 miles from Perrysville Continued down the river to Clinton on the West Bank of the river. went 15 miles further to Ferry Mr. Davis & co. at 7 o'clock very dark stopped 10 miles nothing very remarkable land not very pleasing along the river except very rich bottoms overflow. Saw some paraquetes the first I ever saw it is said they may be tamed and will imitate sounds
"Expenses 50 cents

"December 29. 1829. Tuesday
"Paid Mr. Davis for sleeping on the floor and his wife blowing her nose in the bread as she mixed it up that night - Thence down the river 11 miles to Terrehaute at 6 miles above Terre Haute on the East bank of the river fork Harrison, Terre Haute 21 miles below Clinton and on the East bank of the river land rather better than above. The population of Terre Haute about 600 from actual census, one year ago 550, on rise of ground, a fine looking Court House Breakfasted at Dolis paid .25 Thence down the river 25 miles to Darwin some altercations about leaving canoe and going on foot by land Stopped for the night at Mr. Motts a girl or doxy the most lewd appearing female I ever saw concluded to go by land from the place. Paid Mr. Mott at Darwin 15 cents.

"December 30th 1829 -----
"Started by land on the road to York a small village on the Wabash below 9 miles by land and 18 by water, left a little to the left, some very good prairie farms from Darwin to York, Saw some geese of a mixed breed, said to produce a greater quantity of feathers than the common tamed geese but will not increase any Farms already cleared producing corn cotton and tobacco will produce wheat, rather dry and sandy no water excepting wells proceeded onward from York southerly direction to intersect the road leading from Palestine to Vandalia Some small wet prairie not very pleasant, timber of what is generally called Post Oak, soil not very good - scrub oak plains occasionally People up & about some of them had never heard of Vandalia the seat of Government, and others reconed [sic] it to be a considerable distance off but did not know whether it was in the United States or not made the road about sunset at Mr Woods 12 miles from York a real Hog and Hominy concern putting up pork for New Orleans market people live more like article they deal in than Human beings

"December 31st 1829
Left Mr. Woods after paying bill 25 cents, washing 20 cents. Thence West on the Vandalia road crossed some small prairies at 10 1/2 mi. an old Block heads to breakfast, had stinking pork Crout Indian bread and some burned coffee paid for breakfast 12 1/2. Continuation same course some miles further to a house paid contingent 6 1/4 tried to get horses - but no has not any but soar backs and gone from home, 12 miles further to be Embassads(? ) After dark some prairies, a good deal displeased with the people, more like heathen than otherwise hallowed for ferryman. Came crossed over to house 3/4 of a mile tried to get horse but could not consent until after telling them that the Capt had rheumatism they consented to go to the St Louis road at the little Wabash, (a heathenish set of devils

[One more post of the journal coming up next. The diarist seems to be growing tired of the journey and hasn't met any people he liked for awhile. I can't blame him as the conditions at the rest stops were not exactly luxurious. Since the bought the canoe, they've made good time - much better than walking.]

On to Illinois

2011-07-31T07:06:00.000-07:00

"December 22 1829
"I started on the trail from Raccoon, lost the night one and travelled about six miles out of our way. Came across an Indian wigwam paid boy for setting us right land Birch and Maple and good to Black Raccoon about sunset about 14 miles from where we started and had travelled at least 20 to Wabash river thence down river and crossed about 2 miles distant - dark down the river through the wood etc got lost struck fire and camped for the night about 7 o'clock on a side hill the most sitely place we could find, built fire in an old dry white oak that was blown up laid down on supper side of the fire, and when asleep, we would find ourselves slipping down into the fire and our toes getting scorched. had walked about 22 miles and was quite tired - did not sleep soundly and surly(?) enough the next morning for comfort -

"Dec 23d - No expenses -
"Had nothing to pay for lodging last night Started into the woods found a road in about 30 rods thence on about 2 miles. Came to a Mr. Woodworths where we had intended to make last night having fasted about 32 hours - The sight of a house or log cabin looked pleasant - fine bottom land on the Wabash got a good breakfast stopped for the day tried to buy a canoe but failed - hired Mr. Woodruff and hands try to build us one, ...(?)... four hands commenced work at canoe say about 10 o'clock AM. [I note he has the man's last name spelled two ways, don't know which is correct.]

"December 24 1829
"At Woodruffs, had nothing essential on hand went occasionally into the wood to see the workmen at canoe and view the land on the bank of the Wabash - land extremely fine timber oak birch walnut claw(?) hickory ash etc

"December 25. Christmas - 11 o'clock AM
"Expenses for board and work on canoe $3.25 got into canoe and put off down stream at 8 miles two large rocks on left hand show about 60 fee high composed of limestone fine bottoms on each side of the stream from 1/2 to 1 1/2 miles wide. from Woodworths to Salmon Creek, put in on the left hand side at 8 1/2 miles a Halveys some refreshments banks of limestone an Indian's house occasionally along on the banks the Miami reservation 30 miles square on the left hand shore (south of river) at at 32 miles from Woodworths the Mississinaway puts into the Wabash on the left hand side at 35 miles Miami > post a small village on the right hand shore or north bank of river sunset at 40 miles 6 o'clock PM some little altercation took place between Mr Clarke and myself about running in the night - I gained the point and we put up at Oldhams

"December 26. 1829
"Expenses $0.32
"Started at 1/2 past 6 AM from Oldhams yet dark at three miles Pipe Creek puts in on the left hand bank, at 11 miles the rapids of the Wabash at 13 miles Logans Port - Eel river puts in on the right hand shore Logans Port in the forks - Town just commenced only 18 months old and contained about 300 inhabitants and calculate in 18 months more will contain 1,000. so says the Landlord Tharp & Wilson keeping Hotel keeping - Passed down the river, land on the right bank high, White oak barrens on the left hand shore fine bottom land rather low will overflow at sunset passed Deer Creek Prairie on the left at 40 miles from Logans Port the Tippecanoe river Dark at 4 miles passed Pino river, river turned more south at 50 miles from LoganKeepers Port LaFayette commenced three years ago contains a population of 1000 . So says Gen Johnson the Hotel Keeper, a real mud hole got there 1/2 pat 7 o'clock PM. the head of Steam Boat navigation The mouth of Tippecanoe on the Wabash 6 miles above Lafayette made in all this day 63 miles.
"Expenses $l.12 1/2

[I will say that 63 miles in a day traveling down river in a canoe is making pretty good time. And speaking of time there is two maybe three more posts of this journal before I'm finished with it.]

Welcome and More Journal

2011-07-28T05:42:00.000-07:00

I would like to welcome Michelle Miller of www.thetruebookaddict.blogspot.com, Scott of www.ropeandwire.com, and Lisa of ....It Can't Rain All the Time to my blog. Today we continue on with the journal of a trip to Illinois in 1829.

"December 17th 1829 -
"Left Vances thence up the river on the south troubled with streams pulling in on the sounth bank for every three steps forward, lost four by slipping on the snow - walked hard all day and only made 14 1/2 miles to Flat rock, there crossed the river to the north side to Mr. Bowens as I supposed a Methodist was highly delighted with his prayer.
"Expenses $0.55

"December 18 - 1829
"At Flat Rock (Mr Bowens) passed up river to Defrance to Breakfast fine bottom land Mr. Clarks toe was blistered. 9 miles to Defrance at Defrance ferried over - Mr Scott breakfast Continue up the river on south side land very poor scrub oak plains and hills in abundance - up the river to an old Frenchmans looked more like the Devil than a human being dressed in buckskin hogs and hens lived in common with him in his house at Delaware town
Then up the river on the north side through some very fine bottoms up to Mr Hughes three miles when Capt W came in company with a Miss Platter and Mr. Clark and myself might follow one mile had to cross a bad stream - Capt W. and Mr. Clark undertook to cross on the ice Capt W - succeeded and Mr. Clarke broke through they left me to cross on but I contd at the mouth with the fair conductress Mr. Clark gave up crossing on the ice and afterwards crossed at the mouth in a canoe all arrived at the Platters about dark Capt W - very much smitten with the young Miss Mr. Clark was put to bed on the floor with the old lady sow, and Capt W - and myself bunked together we all slept rather uncomfortably that night - We had walked 21 miles that day
"Expenses $1.05

"December 19th 1829
[Can't decipher the first sentence.] Capt W. and Mr Clarke [gec?] me some oil on account said they were dirty as the devil continued up the river about 12 miles further to Mr Runyons some fine timbered bottom uncultivated land and bad streams to cross made only 15 miles in the whole day - Up lands not very good rather thiin and cold. My feet a little raw and hard walking - ground hove up with frost - Mr Reynols Capt W very far gone -----real hog and hominy concern. all turned and slept read and (?) and slept but little
Expenses $0.50

"December 20th 1829
"Sunday - took a luncheon in our packs 25 1/2 miles without a house - paid but little attention to land - bad streams , nothing but an Indian trail reached a house about sunset - within 3 1/2 miles of Ft Wayne - about 8 o'clock tired as hunting dogs a poor supper a dirty bed crossed ferry 1/4 miles below town -
"Expenses $0.44

"December 21. 1829
"In the morning took a lecture from Mr. Clarke on good manners had a poor breakfast took a walk to view the place about 500 inhabitants a more savage looking set seldom found who call themselves white . Saw aMr. Henderson and son did not make myself known to son - returned to the inn wrote to brother Leonard [Leonard - for whom Case Western Reserve University is named] paid bill at the Gerhard House - Expenses in all these $l.06 1/4 and started for White Raccoon an Indian Village 12 miles passed some wet prairie arrived at Raccoon village about dark with some difficulty it was that we could find a place to stay Indians not very conversant, Indians got a decent supper for them feasted sumptuously. A matress on the floor for bed rested hard the principle indian could understand and talk but would not
"Expenses %0.25

[We will start with Dec 22 next post.]

A trip to Illinois

2011-07-24T08:15:00.000-07:00

I have some pages of a journal written in 1829 or '30 about a trip to Illinois from Ohio which I'd like to share with the readers and without further ado, voila, here it is:

"This book is a memorandum of the family relations as they come to my mind and as information obtained [the writer, Zophar Case from Long Island originally, descendant of Henry, states in his own hand].

"In this relation I know of no better way or place to make a record of my trip to Illinois when there was not one hundred thousand people in it.

"1829
"December 7 at 4 o-clock AM at Hepbourns hotel Cleveland Ohio left in the stage hard stage fare and expens that day no remarkable incident happened - Company James S Clarke and Charles Wilkinson we were all very sleepy - A little difficulty between Mr. Clarke and two females passengers - roads very muddy carriage in the after part of this day made it appear like lightning that had almost spent its force before the sounds of thunder cracking to keep time -

"Thursday Dec 10th 1829
"Spent on yesterday $3.12's A Milan - Started from Milan, two horses, four passengers beside the driver. roads abominable horses balked had to walk. hired an extra team at Monroe two lordy passengers, one a female who wished me to pay her in her own coin - Sandusky prairie delightful Allosa and birch bark. good living for footmen to bed and calculated to stay our Sunday, and wait for Mr. Clarke to come up. Expenses at Spaffords $l.45

[Some of this is hard to read and understand with no punctuation, but dear readers, we will trudge on.]

"December 14th 1829
"Started Mr. Clark and myself Capt W rather indisposed Mr Clark and myself stopped at the County Treasurers and share $6.50 in County orders to help pay Capt Wilkinson's taxes in Perrysburg made 44 cents in the operation taxes settled and proceeded up the river to opposite Manmu(Miami?) Village lef Capt W at his uncles to stay and recreate until tomorrow morning and Mr. Clark and myself crossed the river to stay all night - stayed at Mr. Lloyds Inn and wrote a letter to friend O. B. Skinner in the evening got in company with the U. S. Engineers, they said the country is fine up the river - The best country in the Wabash valley they ever saw on the Tippicanoe very poor all oak barrens, on the Wabash good. On the big St. Josephs very good country of land - They have a run a line of canal from the mouth of the Tippicanoe to the big bend of the St Josephs - about 90 miles to Fort Wayne - Can if we choose about 30 miles from Fort Wayne git on the head waters of the Wabash and go down in a canoe -

"The Engineers have constructed their falls work and are now on their return to Washington - They feel well with their face turned homeward jovial good company, did not learn their names
Expenses$2.12's - Crossed back

"December 15th. 1829
"Started up the south bank of the Manmu we had to cross some bad creeks Kept round on the hills made only 9 miles to Missionary station snow and sleet pelting us all day - Kept Capt W spirits up. Mr Clark unusually dull. As we waded along through the mud snow and sleet and red water. When we got to the station we anticipated something good for body and soul and found ourselves disappointed. Station has 22 (or 27?) Indian schollars - some attended to the farm under the direction of the Rev W Van Tassel Preacher and Indians all poor and deluded have been there
about six years
"Expenses at Station 58 cts freight(?) al(?)

"December 16th 1829
"Crossed the river in a canoe Indian paddle Thence up the North bank of the river sixteen miles to Judge Vance's at 9 (?) on the route Manors(?) --- and land good along the river flat back had some bad creeks to cross. left Capt W-- to come from Manors to Vance's in a canoe along with the Frenchmen -
"Expenses $0.88---

[Next Post we'll start with Dec 17th.]

Moving On

2011-07-21T08:18:00.000-07:00

August 1804: Death of Joseph Case, leaving his wife Lydia with his ten children, some of whom were old enough to take care of themselves. The youngest, James, was ten at the time, They continued living in Ohio as far as I know, and James married Hannah Wiard in Harpersfield. The next time I hear of James, he is working on the Pawnee Indian Reservation in Nebraska Territory. He went there with one of the Presbyterian missionaries who was going to visit the Otoes, a part of the Council Bluffs Indian Agency responsibility.

James and his two sons are shown as working with the Pawnees, Aaron as a blacksmith, Solomon (age 15) as an interpreter, and James as a farmer, from 1835 until 1847. These jobs were not continuous, and they worked with the Otoes, too, further north for awhile. I hope to get into more detail of their life on the Res, but due to research limitations, I'm afraid that's it for the Res.

James and Solomon traveled on to Utah in 1847 in separate Mormon parties and Aaron stayed behind. You can read about James trip to the Rocky Mountains in a humorous piece at frontiertales.com, Issue #8, May 2010.

This concludes for now the 'traveling to the West" posts, but the end of the story is yet to come as more and more people keep traveling to the West to settle down and make homes for their families as James and his father and grandfather did. The pioneers were a tough and hardy people to cut through the forest, fight off the Indians, and build their cabins all in the name of cheap land and freedom for freedom's sake.

And More on the Life in Early Ohio

2011-07-17T10:51:00.000-07:00

"I think whiile zealots fast and frown,
And fight for two or seven,
That there are fifty roads to town,
And rather more to Heaven."
Praed - Chant of Brazen Head

Here are a couple anecdotes about church attendance in Austinburg before we take up the journey West: The Tuttle family lived two-and-a-half miles from the church and there was not a Sabbath for over 30 years that the house of Ira Tuttle was not represented at the meeting. One Sunday their family team was hitched to the big buggy, which could easily carry 16, and were standing by the fence waiting for the load when the church bell began to ring, and the horses started for the meeting. When the family came out they were too far away to be caught. Those who went that day had to walk. The horses made the journey safely, stopped at the landing, then went on to the shed, where they stood waiting to be tied.

One Sabbath, when the family of Mr. Case were detained at home, his horse went alone to the meeting and stood by the hitching post through the service.

I mentioned "physical exercises" in regard to a church meeting in a previous post. One occurrence was at Cross Creek, Pennsylvania, at a service performed by the Rev. Joseph Badger. It was the custom of Prebyterians to meet in large numbers on sacramental occasions. On this particular instance, probably a thousand were upon the grounds when one of the gentlemen in attendance had one of these "bodily exercises." It seems he was overcome by his own intensity of belief and fell into some sort of a trance alarming most of the congregation. He asked them to carry him out, which they did. He then asked them to carry him back, which they also did. By this time he was trembling and as feeble as a dying man. Afterwards, he said, "I feel that I am in God's hands, and that He will do with me just what He pleases."

And among the accounts of these "exercises" in Ashtabula County was the following which appeared in Austinburg, from the memoir of Mr. Badger: "November 6, 1802, Lord's day, the people assembled in Deacon J. Case's barn. Preached twice to a very solemn assembly. Several were in deep distress, and became unable to support themselves. As the distressed were unable to go from the barn, prayer, exhortation, and singing were continued until after the sun went down. As three children, twelve or thirteen years old, were going from the barn to my house they all fell helpless. They were taken up and taken care of. One of them continued in a perfectly helpless situation for more than twelve hours."

I've heard of this happening in services where the preacher let loose with the "hellfire and brimstone", usually in connection with the Holy Roller Baptist type church, but never in a Presbyterian service.

In 1812 it was decided to build a meeting house, and in former times it was considered impossible to raise a building without whiskey, but the women declared that it was not necessary to aid the brawny muscles of the men with whiskey in order to raise the frame of the house of God, so they gathered together and made some home-made beer, flavored with sassafras, spruce, and other herbs, and gave it to the men in the place of whiskey, and the discovery was made that they got along very well without intoxicating liquor while raising the frame of that church.

Going backward to 1796, when the surveyors (for the Western Reserve) arrived, Indian trails, leading from one encampment to the other, were the only pathways to be found. The Connecticut Land Company opened the first public highway through this section, and it was the first road that was laid out and recorded on the Reserve. This was known as "The Old Girdled Road," and ran from Pennsylvania to Cleveland. In Ashtabula County this road passed through Conneaut, Sheffield, Plymouth, Austinburg and Harpersfield.

The Church at Austinburg (Ohio) and a Disheartening Event

2011-07-14T09:03:00.000-07:00

The Reverend Joseph Badger arrived in Austinburg and set about getting his large family settled in a spot "in the south part of town, near the residence of Deacon Mills."

"Mr. Badger says, ......'It became necessary on my arrival in this wilderness to provide bread for my family........ Got flour at the mill [Judge Austin's mill], coarse enough, but served well for bread. Meat was more difficult to be had. Hearing of a barrel of pork at Painesville, I sent a man with a dray to haul it through the woods, thirty miles; paid twenty silver dollars for one hundred and seventy pounds; it was the whole hog, feet, head, snout, and ears. I procured two cows, which furnished plenty of milk. Our pasture was large, without a fence; sometimes the creatures rambled out of hearing for a day or two. Notwithstanding our long and tedious journey, we had obtained such supplies as made us comfortable, and had much to be thankful for, although, sometimes our prospects were very dark. About this time it was necessary to extend my missionary labors to other parts of the Reserve. I had only made such arrangements as to shelter my family from the storm and supply them with bread for about two months.'"

Due to the scarcity of Reverends or missionaries, Badger preached all over the Western Reserve and was very well liked wherever he went, sometimes being absent for months from the town.

"During the year 1801, a remarkable revival occurred in the place. This revival was attended with singular physical exercises. .......... By the means of this revival a large number were added to the church, and the whole community was much affected. The whole number admitted at the time was forty-one, and the Lord's supper was administered to sixty-two persons. Among those who joined by profession were Eliphalet Austin, Thomas Montgomery, Q. F. Atkins, Henry L. Badger, Juliana Badger, et al. In a single day the church was increased to six times its original membership. It continued , however, without regular preaching. Mr. Badger supplied as he could but had appointments at Conneaut, Harpersfield, and other places."

In August 1804, Captain Joseph Case was assisting two travelers across a river and had already made one trip taking the horses and one of the travelers to the bank on the other side. Returning with the other traveler to pick up the saddles and rest of their baggage, they started out for the opposite bank with the stream running high. Midway across, the traveler on the bank saw Mr. Case stand up in the canoe and fall into the water with his hands held high. The traveler in the canoe didn't see this, and when the canoe hit the bank, the Reverend Badger hopped into it and they paddled fast and furious to save him. Mr. Case came up one time with his hands high in the air. ""When the canoe arrived alongside of him, one man threw down his paddle to seize hold of him, but at that moment he sank like a stone. ...... The death caused a gloom over this region, and has been dwelt upon as one of the sad incidents of this early day." I assume he died of a heart attack, age 51.

Note: Items in quotes taken from the History of Ashtabula County.

The family continued to live in Austinburg until they scattered to the four winds, Joseph M. Case, moving to Morgan, Ohio, Francis to Colorado and James - we'll follow James next. I haven't come across any records yet of the other family members in Ohio.

Austinburg, Ohio

2011-07-10T08:27:00.000-07:00

"In the spring of 1800, the population of Austinburg was increased by the following arrivals: those of Joseph Case, J. M. Case, Roger Nettleton, Joseph B. Cowles, Adam Cowles, Josiah Moses, John Wright, Sterling Mills and family, Noah Cowles and his son Solomon, Dr. O. K. Hawley, and Ambrose Humphrey. The most of this numerous company made the journey from Norfolk, Connecticut, to Austinburg on foot. The greater part of them came without their families, returning for them after they had erected cabins wherein they might live. Some of the number finally took up their residence in other townships."

When Sterling Mills and family arrived, they were provided with two horses, and accompanied from Madison or Harper's Landing by Joseph M. Case. They set out for Austinburg in the afternoon and when it turned dark, the party was stranded in the middle of the forest in a rainstorm. The next day after the storm cleared off, they started out again and ran into "Austin's Camp," as it was then called, after about three-quarters of a mile.

"The number of settlers within the limits of the present county of Ashtabula during the winter of 1799-1800 was therefore not far from fifty persons. Harpersfield outranked the other townships as to the number of inhabitants; Conneaut came next, then Austinburg, then Windsor and Monroe."

There has been some talk in the news and other programs of religion and secularism in early America. Some argue that the country was established on religious ideas and some not. Here is the Williams brothers take on it as written in the History of Ashtabula County: "The Pilgrims gave tone to the society of New England and their independence moulded the religious character of the whole people. The removal from the monarchies of the Old World, and the love of freedom, which found scope in the New, resulted in the establishment of a pure democracy, both in the church and in the state. The aristocracy of the south and the democracy of the north were largely the result of church influences."

"The first church which was organized in Ashtabula County was that at Austinburg in October, 180l" [by the Reverend Joseph Badger].

This is a drawing of the first church built in Austinburg in 1815 and is still standing. I was going to post a more recent picture, but I couldn't find it. It is called the Old Congregational Church. On second thought, maybe they have torn that one down and built a new one that looks like it. The names of the first settlers are emblazoned on the windows.

Here is another drawing, both taken from the History of Ashtabula County, of Sterling Mills' house also built in 1815. In the beginning, the houses were not as elaborate, being log cabins built to last a few years until the more luxurious structures were built.

Joseph Case and son Joseph M.were among those who built temporary cabins and returned to Connecticut in 1800 to collect his family. Joseph had ten children, and they all removed to Ohio, except for one or two of the girls who married and stayed in Connecticut.

More on their lives in the next post and who moves on from there.

Onward from Norfolk, Connecticut

2011-07-07T07:59:00.000-07:00

"It is necessary, in order that the thread of the narrative should not be spun to a length which might fatigue the reader, that he should imagine a week to have intervened between the scene with which the preceding (post of the same subject) closed and the events with which it is our intention to resume in relation in this."

Ahem! That is the opening sentence of Chapter VIII after the quotation from Troilus and Cressida of James Fenimore Cooper's The Prairie. It was taken from the Project Gutenberg site of books in the public domain and says in more flowery language than I intend to use that which is my "intention to resume" concerning the subject on which we began these series of posts, traveling to the West.

We shall leave the scenes of Connecticut and pick up with the History of Ashtabula County, Ohio, 1798 to 1878, with Illustrations and Biographical Sketches of its Pioneers and Most Prominent Men, by the Williams Brothers of Philadelphia. This book is also in the public domain and was reprinted by the Higginson Book Co.

Joseph Case and Lydia Mills Case, mentioned earlier, figure in the history of Austinburg Township in Ashtabula County, PA, but first we will rehash the foundation of the township and some of its history and move on to the settlement of the town.

      "In the year 1798 the Connecticut land company was organized, composed of fifty-six individuals, resident of Connecticut.

     "On the 5th of September of the same year, the company received a deed for about three million acres of land lying in the northeastern part of Ohio, and called the Western Reserve.

     "It appears from the records of the Connecticut land company that when the division of the land was made among the members of the company, ninety-three townships, east of the Cuyahoga, was drawn in a lottery, and the township of Austinburg, then known as number eleven of the fourth range, fell to Messrs. Austin, Rockwell, Battell, and others, and these parties, in connection with other gentlemen of Connecticut who had drawn adjoining lands, formed themselves into a company, called the Torrington land company.

   Because of "the fear of Indian disturbances and the prospect of war with the French," the first attempt at colonization of Austinburg, "designated in the field notes as 'Blakeslee,'" was abandoned by Colonel Blakeslee and he ended up settling in Genessee county, New York.

     "About the same time a singular accident befell one of the company, which resulted in a way least expected, but which proved almost providential, at least a blessing in disguise.

      "This accident was nothing more nor less than the biting of a mad dog of Judge Austin, who seemed to be the leading spirit in the new company. The symptom of the terrible disease of hydrophobia succeeded, nearly baffling the skill of the best physicians. It was, however, while in this state of anxiety and fear that it was advised by physicians and friends, as a relief, that the judge should for a time, leave his home and divert his thoughts from his dreadful disease by travel in foreign lands. To this he consented, but instead of going abroad he resolved to himself to make a tour to the WILD LANDS in the WEST [emphasis added], and to open a way for a colony in that region.

      Judge Austin formed a party of "Roswell Stevens and his wife, newly married, and three young men, David Allen, Anson COLT [emphasis added], and Samuel Fobes, all of whom he had hired for the purpose, and George Beckwith, his wife, and two small children, in company, set out on this long journey, having taken farming tools and a team for the purpose of make improvements." At Schenectedy, they split up, the Judge to go overland with his team and the others to go by boat to the Grand River where they would meet up. Austin was down to his last pork rind when he got word that the boat had finally arrived. "With the assistance of his men, the judge afterwards was able to transport his goods and provisions on hand-sleds from the landing to Austinburg.

     "On the 5th day of June, 1799, the first blow struck by a white man's axe in the town of Austinburg was struck by Judge Eliphalet Austin himself, the chief proprietor of the lands and the pioneer settler of all."

   The small group set about building cabins for themselves and the judge organized his colony and headed back to Connecticut to sell the land and bring in settlers.

      "Those who were enlisted in the enterprise were men of the like spirit,--men who sought homes for themselves and their families, but who at the same time sought to plant institutions in the new land. It is remarkable that the character of a place as well as of a country through all time partakes of the spirit and character of those who first settled it. The foundations of society in the township of Austinburg were laid in such a manner as later generations have had much reason to be grateful, and by men of whom their posterity have no reason to be ashamed.

   "The names of Deacon Noah Cowles, Captain Joseph Case, his son, afterwards Deacon Joseph M. Case, Adna Cowles, Solomon Cowles, Joseph B. Cowles, Roger Nettleton, Dr. Orestes K. Hawley, John Wright, Jr., Joseph Moses, Daniel C. Phelps, Isaac Butterfield, Ephraim Rice, Calvin Stone, David Allen, and Sterling Mills are all worthy of a high place, and should be highly regarded in the tablet of memory; for they, with Judge Eliphalet Austin and his family, may be regarded as the founders of society in this important community, and as the originators of influences which have extended far to bless this country. These were all the members of the colony which, under the lead and through the influence of Judge Austin, were to start in the spring of 1800 for a permanent settlement in this FAR-OFF WILDERNESS [emphasis added]."

With cabins to build, lands to clear, farms to plant, and crops to raise, we will continue with the Discovery and Settlement of The West from a personal perspective in the next post. What amazes and amuses me about this is the time it takes from the landing of the Mayflower in 1620 to the move west in the late 1700's and the 1800's and the speed it picks up from then right up until today.

Pause in Norfolk for a couple of anecdotes

2011-07-03T07:05:00.000-07:00

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!

No anecdote is the construction of the Taj Mahal in India which began in 1631 and went on until 1653 and now is a World Heritage site of UNESCO. Sometimes I get a mind boggle when I see what was going on in the world in the 1600's, when America was just beginning to be populated by foreign immigrants with no visa or passport.

"Asahel Case and his wife, Dorothy Phelps, were from Simsbury. ...... The said Asahel senior had thirteen children. He died in 1809, aged 81. Asahel Jun(ior) died 1840, aged 84. ..... A man who spent a night at his home said that in the morning Mr. Case (senior) went to the chamber stairs, called out all the names found in the Bible, and added, 'and all the rest of you get up.'

"Aaron Case, son of Asahel Jun. lived on the old place where his grandfather lived and died. His son, Hiram, lived on the old place, and died there from 'grinder's consumption,' contracted by grinding scythes in a scythe shop. [If he lived today, he could sue and get a big chunk of money.]

"(Aaron Case's) first wife took by mistake a dose of saltpetre instead of Epsom salts, as she supposed it to be, and died from the effects of it in a few hours. ...... Captain Aaron, as he was called was taking home a load of potatoes in an ox cart. He always kept two or three rods ahead of his oxen. Going up a long hill the tail-board of the cart got loose, and his potatoes rolled out and scattered from the foot of the hill to the top. When he reached home and found his cart empty, doubtless the English language was inadequate to express his feelings. ...... Time and space forbid telling of his once driving a pig some two miles without discovering that he had taken the wrong pig out of his pen. [I think I inherited some of those same traits.]

The Revolutionary War came along about twenty years after Norfolk was settled and many of the settlers were called on to do their duty, including Asahel, Senior, from June to December 1775.

Joseph Case, the oldest son (of Asahel, Senior), married Lydia Mills and we will follow him part way coming up.

(Note: Quotes are taken from History of Norfolk, Connecticut, 1744-1900.)

Interruption

2011-06-30T07:13:00.000-07:00

We interrupt the regularly scheduled posting to bring you the Semi-Annual List of Blogs I Like to Read:

l. Buddies in the Saddle - Ron Scheer's reviews, photos and life. (buddiesinthesaddle.blogspot.com)
2.Davy Crockett's Almanack - by (Dave) Evan Lewis, variety, stories, comics, but not much in the way of the West lately. (davycrockettsalmanack.blogspot.com)
3. Razored Zen - Charles Gramlich (charlesgramlich.blogspot.com
4. My Little Corner - Sandra Seamans updates on writer's markets and other things. (sandraseamans.blogspot.com)
5.The Education of a Pulp Writer - David Cranmer - Short stories, interviews, etc. (davidcranmer.blogspot.com)
6. The Tainted Archive - Gary Dobbs' blog of western, mystery, movies, etc. (tainted-archive.blogspot.com)
7. Betty Auchard's Blog for the Home for the Friendless - For the humor. (bettyauchard.com/blog)
8. Rough Edges - by James Reasoner - A ripping good blog for keeping up on things western and other subjects. (jamesreasoner.blogspot.com)
9. Houston A. W. Knight - Romance writer - On hiatus right now. (houstonawknight.blogspot.com)
10. Laurie's Wild West - Laurie Powers' pulp extravaganza. (lauriepowerswildwest.blogspot.com)

I like all the other blogs on my blog list and will be adding more. They're just too interesting not to read.

On to Norfolk

2011-06-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

In 1637, the colonists exterminated the Pequots because of some killing by the Pequots. Rev. Eldridge wrote, "The warlike tribe from the first had exhibited a hostile spirit toward the English. They had committed several murders." And who wouldn't when some foreigners are trying to take over their land. Woops! They had no written proof it was their land, whereas the English had charters and such to prove to the Indians and anyone else they had a right to the territory. And with some stirrings of independence from the English in the Connecticut Colony under Charles II, and some clamping down under James II, the Charter Oak affair came about and the colony remained somewhat independent.

After a lot of squabbling and hoo-hawing back and forth between the Colony of Connecticut and the towns of Hartford and Windsor, the western part was given to the colony by the Assembly and towns were surveyed and laid out, including that of Norfolk. "The town was incorporated in 1758, and then contained twenty-seven families resident." In a short while there were sixty families and then seventy, even though the Assembly had a heck of a time selling the original township. The East Coast had been getting crowded in the last hundred years with all the new arrivals and people were looking West.

Nothing but Indians and wild animals roamed the thick forests, and roads had to be laid out through them connecting the various towns to further commerce. The colonists were resourceful and hard-working, building their own houses, planting crops and all the other requirements of a settlement, and, of course, a church in which the Reverend Robbins held forth. School books were "the Bible, the New England Primer, Dilworth's Spelling Book and an elementary arithmetic called the Schoolmaster's Assistant...... .. The children learned to write sometimes on birch bark and sometimes on paper, which was then a very scarce article. Ink was made of berries of sumach, and inkstands from the tips of cattle horns."

Norfolk wasn't the only town settled at that time in western Connecticut, but I'm using it as an example of what my own ancestors went through on the journey West. My fifth great-grandfather (Asahel Case) was among those early settlers to make his home in Norfolk. I've mentioned this before in an earlier blog that Asahel was a descendant of John Case who arrived in America on the Dover in 1640. John had lived in Hartford before settling in Simsbury.
So, when and how did we get to the West? In the 1790's a big jump was made in exploring in that direction and we will get to it in the next blog.

(Ref: History of Norfolk, Connecticut, 1744-1900)

Beginnings

2011-06-24T07:52:00.000-07:00

The West had to be discovered by European descendants sometime or other, but before they reached the West they had to discover and settle other places along the way. The Reverend Joseph Eldridge said something similar in 1856 in a Thanksgiving address:

".....The history of the United States has one special advantage and attraction; it is authentic. The origin of most of the states and nations of Europe is involved in much obscurity. Our own can be traced back, clearly and distinctly to its earliest beginnings. .....

"Then the events of our history are of the most striking character. Highly interesting in themselves, they are becoming more so by the promise which they hold in regard to the future.

".....Local histories are important as furnishing the elements of general history, and they have peculiar attractions for those born and reared in the places themselves. It is a duty of filial piety, as well as gratitude to the supreme disposer of events, to gather up, and preserve, and transmit all the memorials we can, of the labors, trials, and achievements of those who have preceded us on the spot where we dwell. We have entered into their labors. We reap the results of their enterprise, forecast, and efforts. We sit under the shadow, and eat the fruits of the tree which they planted."

Which leads me to say that the history of the West must start somewhere, but not in the West. The above was extracted from the introductory chapter to the "History of Norfolk, Connecticut, 1744-1900," which book is in the public domain and was reprinted by the Higginson Book Company of Boston, Mass., and is for sale by them, one of many that company has reprinted in connection with the genealogy of early Americans.

Rev. Eldridge goes on to say more about the history of Connecticut:

"The title to the land and right of Robert, earl of Warwick, was the first proprietary of the soil under a grant from the Council for New England. March 19, 1631, he ceded it by patent to Lor Say and Seal, Lord Brook, John Hampden and others. Before any colony could be established under their authority, individuals, headed by William Holmes of Plymouth had, September 1633, erected a trading house at Windsor. The June previous to the arrival of Holmes, the Dutch from Manhattan, had established themselves at Hartford, having purchased twenty acres of land of a Pequot chief,---built a for, and mounted a couple of cannon. They claimed Connecticut, and never wholly relinquished their claims until 1664. The fur trade with the Indians was then very lucrative. The Dutch purchased of the Indians annually ten thousand beaver skins. In 1634, a few men from Watertown, Mass., came and erected huts at Wethersfield, which is the oldest town in the state. In 1635 a number of men came from Dorchester to Windsor, and erected log houses. Other men from Watertown did the same at Wethersfield. In the autumn, having comp;leted these preparation, these men returned to Mass. for their families, and on the 15th of October there set out about sixty men, women and children with horses, cattle, and swine. More than a hundred miles of wilderness through which no roads existed, whose streams were without bridges, and whose sole inhabitants were Indians and wild beast, had to be traversed. ........"

This attempt met with failure due to the fact that winter set in and they had sent their provisions by boat and the boat couldn't sail because of the ice in the Connecticut River. Most of the families returned to Boston and waited for the spring of the next year (1636) when they set out under the guidance of the Rev. Thomas Hooker.

When those sixty individuals set out in October they should have known that winter would set in, but live and learn.
It had been only a few years since the Mayflower landed, and I assume they thought winter would be mild, most probably just arrived themselves and knew no history of the area. (My ancestor on my mother's side, Nathaniel Foote, arriving in the new land in 1630, was among these, being one of the first settlers of Wethersfield.) If I'd been there, I would've directed them to Miami Beach.

And so starts the discovery of the West from MY perspective and we will reach Norfolk, Connecticut, before too long. Maybe some of the readers' ancestors will show up along the way.

More California

2011-06-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

In Seventy-five Years in California by William Heath Davis there was hardly a mention of the big gold discovery in 1848 by John Sutter. There are two chapters in the book, Chapter 34, First Discovery of Gold in California, and Chapter 35, Gold, Gold, and More Gold, where he approaches it from a viewpoint of one who doesn't care too much about it. The first discovery of gold was not the big lode at Sutter's Mill, but a gold find in the area of Los Angeles in 1841 by some Mexicans who were going to the northern part of the Territory. The find was not a terribly large one, but the mining went on for a few years. Mr. Davis then writes about the mixing of races. The Spaniards wanted to keep the Spanish blood from being mixed with the Indians, so they imported some women from Mexico to alleviate the pressure on the large number of males without women. And he goes on to explain the draft system that was being used by the Generals in California to maintain the number of forces necessary to defend against the Indians. It was by conscription of the young single males. The Generals sent men out to round up the eligible males and tell them "You're in the Army now, not behind a plow." Well, that isn't exactly what they said, but you get the idea, no matter what they were doing they were taken away to help defend against the Indians or others..

Gold, gold, and More Gold, this chapter deals with not the Sutter Gold, but the events surrounding it. Mr. Davis writes that the Indians told the Padres of the Missions about the gold they found in the mountains and the Padres told them not to tell anyone, and the Padres kept it secret, too. Davis went on his own gold search around the San Diego area but was unsuccessful. This was after the big discovery at Sutter's Mill.

And I can't forget this day: HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL THE FATHERS OUT THERE!

"Californy"

2011-06-16T08:24:00.000-07:00

I have probably mentioned this before, but I haven't said much about it. It's a book entitled Seventy-five Years in California by William Heath Davis and published in 1929 by John Howell. The subtitle says "A History of Events and Life in California: Personal, Political, and Military; Under the Mexican Regime; During the Quasi-Military Government of the Territory by the United States, and after admission of the State to the Union."

The reason I bring this up is, I finished reading another book Sea of Courage about the Naval Exploring Expedition of 1838 to 1842. As this expedition was winding down after discovering and surveying part of Antarctica and the South Sea islands the ships were busy surveying the mouth of the Columbia River in Oregon Territory. Commodore Wilkes (actually a Lieutenant), the commander of the expedition, sent a detachment of sailors overland from the river to see what they could see and meet the ships in the Bay of San Francisco. And, lo and behold, upon removing ......California from the shelf, I see that Commodore Wilkes is in the Bay area from Chapter XXI - "Commodore Wilkes Visits Yerba Buena." Naturally, I had to read that chapter to discover the results of the small group traveling overland, but there is no mention of it. San Francisco at that time was known as Yerba Buena.

While at San Francisco, they surveyed parts of the Sacramento River, the harbor and the coast line, which Mr. Davis commented on and he mentioned the surveillance of the British ships and Wilkes thinking that maybe the Brits wanted to take over this part of the country. The ships' supplier while in port was Nathan Spear who settled in the area in 1822. The Mexican Governor Alvarado became a good friend of Spear and offered him eleven leagues of land if he would become a Mexican citizen, a not uncommon practice and according to Mr. Davis, several Americans had done this.

Mr. Davis had the same feelings about Commodore Wilkes that many, if not all, of the expedition sailors did - the Commodore was a tough disciplinarian with a no-nonsense sense of duty, unsociable, and very knowledgeable in his scientific endeavors, but in my estimation from the other book and this, lacking in common sense or it was overshadowed by his obligation to duty. Mr. Davis had nothing but complementary things to say about the other officers, though, finding them to be intelligent and fun-loving. Prior to their leaving a big party was thrown at Davis' friend, Guerrero's, that lasted through the night.

Mr. Davis also wrote about the Fiji captive that Wilkes was taking back to Washington, but died before he reached there. This Fijian was very large in stature and weighed as much as 250 lbs, and had what we today call an "afro" hair-do that would make the normal "afro" look like a mini alongside this fellow.

Commodore Wilkes was stubborn and when he set his mind on doing something, nothing stopped him. Like, when he upped anchor to depart San Francisco Bay, his pilot, a Britisher named Richardson, who was very familiar with the area, told him not to leave because of the terrible waves at the mouth of the bay caused by the wind from the southwest. Wilkes left, but he did stop just inside the bay after he saw what Captain Richardson was talking about and waited until the next day. His next stop was Monterey.

The Monster Eating Arizona

2011-06-12T09:38:00.000-07:00

You've heard of it by now, the Wallow Fire, that has gobbled up the eastern half of Arizona, almost. It has consumed about 433,000 acres so far and is still spreading as of this morning, with only a minute portion under control. The winds have been wreaking havoc in the mountainous terrain, making it difficult to extinguish. Two new towns have been told to evacuate, Springerville and Eager, making a total of around 10,000 people, and the fire has become the second largest in AZ history. It has now jumped the border and is in New Mexico, too.

Temporary shelters are being and have been set up, but if the fire gets into these small towns and consumes the houses, it will present grave problems for the residents.The Red Cross is calling for donations - HELP, if you can.

The Horseshoe II fire has consumed almost 200,000 acres in southern AZ, and the Arivaca fire near Tubac has burned up over 85,000 acres, but it is pretty well under control. The summer monsoon season with its lightning, winds, dust and rain hasn't yet begun. Another hot and windy day in eastern Arizona.

The Fire Monster is eating its way through the State.

Announcement

2011-06-09T09:35:00.000-07:00

I will be signing and selling my three books tomorrow night at the Mesa, AZ, 2nd Friday Night Out event. It should be an exciting evening, and I'm hoping to finally get started on selling in the Phoenix Area. It's taken me much too long to get into the swing of this business, but I think I'm finally getting past the hurdle of licensing and my reluctance to enter into it wholeheartedly, etc. Check out the Mesa website here 2ndfridaynightout.com . There should be a lot of traffic and since the emphasis will be on books, it may turn out very well.

The only problem is, we have to stay awake beyond 10 PM, something we're not accustomed to, so we decided to get a motel for the night. Ye gods! It's only forty or fifty miles down the road, but there goes the profit if we should.be so lucky to sell that many books. I tell you, there's a negative side to everything. My conscience is talking to me, saying "Quit your damn whining and get on with it!" All right, already! I will, I will. Ahem.

More on Ella Wheeler Wilcox

2011-06-05T09:37:00.000-07:00

It was my better half's sudden love of poetry that made me aware of Mrs. Wilcox. The wife and her daughter were antiquing in downtown Glendale last Saturday when the wife purchased on impulse a book entitled Maurine and other Poems and also buying a book by Sinclair Lewis titled Free Air. Maurine and other Poems was published around 1888 the year of copyright and Free Air in 1919, both first editions as far as I can determine and probably not worth much.

Anyway, I thumbed through Maurine and read a couple of poems and I liked them, one called "The Story" reminds me of "Jack and Jill Went Up the Hill:"

They met each other in the glade--
She lifted up her eyes;
Alack the day! Alack the maid!
She breathed in swift surprise,
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from lifting up the
eyes.

The pail was full, the path was steep--
He reached to her his hand;
She felt her warm young pulses leap,
But did not understand.
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from clasping hand
with hand.

She sat beside him in the wood--
He wooed with words and sighs;
Ah! love in spring seems sweet and good,
And maidens are not wise.
Alas! alas! the woe that comes from listing lover's
sighs.

And etc., etc.

Ella Wheeler married Robert Wilcox in 1884 and lived in Connecticut and then on to NYC and then back to Conn.
They built two houses on Long Island Sound and several cottages known as Bungalow Court where they held literary and artistic gatherings. They had one child, who died shortly after birth. She and her husband became interested in the occult and made a pact to communicate with each other whoever died first. It was Robert who died first, but he never contacted her and she couldn't understand why. Hmm-mm. I think she needed a Sylvia Browne to tell her why or explain it to her. Maybe she just wasn't seeing the light.

She wrote over twenty books of poetry and her autobiography over the years. One of them is "Custer" and another is "Hello, Boys!" about the First World War, and others covering Power, Progress, Sentiment, Optimism and Passion and still others on various subjects.

I never much cared for poetry, not even Leaves of Grass, but I found the poems in Maurine easy to read and understand for the most part and the time spent was well worth it. More of them can be found on Project Gutenberg. Photo of Mrs. Wilcox from Wikimedia Commons:

Reference: Wikipedia.org

Poetry Raises Its Arrows

2011-06-02T07:51:00.000-07:00

You never can tell when you send a word,
   Like an arrow shot from a bow
By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,
   Just where it may chance to go.
It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend.
   Tipped with its poison or balm,
To a stranger's heart in life's great mart,
    It may carry its pain or its calm.

The above is the first verse of a poem titled "You Never Can Tell" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox. I can never tell whether or not she was writing this about writing or some other subject, because in her second verse she writes about doing an act, sowing a seed, and dropping an acorn. In the final verse she poetizes about thoughts, airy wings, the law of the universe "And they speed o'er the track to bring you back, Whatever went out from your mind."

When I push my arms against the desk and roll my chair back, there comes to mind the thought that she was writing about the effect that words have on whoever they land and by sowing seeds and dropping acorns, great things may show up in the fertile minds of those who master the art of wordry. She says, "You never can tell what your thoughts will do, in bringing you hate or love; for thoughts are things and their airy wings are swifter than carrier doves."

Ella Wheeler Wilcox was born in 1850 in Johnstown, Wisconsin, and died in 1919 of cancer. She is famous for her poem "Solitude", the opening lines being "Laugh, and the world laughs with you, Weep, and you weep alone." I should say those lines are more famous than she is, since whenever they're used they are not credited. She is also "famous" for another poem, "Custer," or she may have been for awhile when it was first published or she may be still among her admirers.

"Custer" is a long poem, broken down into three "books" with many verses and she eloquently reviews his life and sudden death in the massacre at the Little Big Horn. A fine poem.

More on Mrs. Wilcox in the next post.

Salons, Saloons, Bars, Inns, Roadside Stops

2011-05-29T09:13:00.000-07:00

The local saloon plays a big part in cowboy movies no matter what their origin or name with all the rootin', tootin' and shootin' that takes place in them, and in my novels a lot of the action takes place in the saloon or pool hall. So, when I ran across Saloons of the Old West by Richard Erdoes, I had to have it. The narrative is 251 pages written in double column on each page, and has a three-column section for the Notes, Bibliography, Acknowledgements and Index from page 255 to 277. It can't help but be interesting and enervating and packed with useful information and history.

So far, I've read only the first three chapters covering some of the history and development of that place we stop in to have a cool drink now and then, or oftener, and a good meal. I can barely frame a picture in my mind of some of the earlier "saloons" that are described, having only the bare necessities for a thirst-buster made out of who knows what and whatever else the seller thinks will make it taste good or better. When the old cowboy says, "Name yer pizen," that may have been just what it was.

Too bad I can't devote myself to a sit-down-and-read-all-of-it-in-one-sitting event, but there are just too many other things that must be done. Right now, I have to get ready to go to downtown Glendale for something or other, but I am anxious to get back to the book.

HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY!!

Blog to follow

2011-05-26T05:54:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, I received an e-mail notification from Elaine Ash announcing her blog "Ashedit" at ashedit.wordpress.com. Of course, I took a look at it and am now following it as time permits. She covers short story writing, but concentrates on crime and the more far out subjects, fantasy, horror, etc., and has interviews and other info on writers, writing, etc. Her latest post is about H. P. Lovecraft where she interviews the editors of Historical Lovecraft, Tales of Horror Through Time, Sylvia Moreno-Garcia and Paula R. Stiles.

Ninety-five per cent or more of my time dwells on writing westerns, but I do read on other subjects from time to time and "Ashedit" is one of those where I will be spending some of my time. If you write crime, horror, scifi short stories, take a peek if you haven't already.

Wedding

2011-05-22T09:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, we attended a wedding outside in the backyard under the citrus trees next door. The weather was nice, not too hot yet with a little breeze, perfect for an outdoor event. The people getting married were two former marrieds ready to tie the knot again. It started with a nice buffet of an egg casserole (delicious), fruit salad, nuts, and various sweet buns and cake-like bread accompaniments and attended by about thirty-forty friends and family of the principals.

As soon as everyone had filled their desire for food, the music was stopped and the ceremony commenced with the pastor (or preacher, bishop, reverend, father, brother) standing with the two under a sign on a tree that read "The knot-tying tree." By the way, the tree trunks, which are normally painted white to protect the bark from the sun, were painted with added black polka dots, the theme of the party. My great-grandson said they look like cows. Where was I? Oh, yes, the man of the cloth read off the where's and what-for's to the bride and groom, and the bride and groom read off their vows to each other, and the preacher pronounced them man and wife.

The Groom kissed the Bride and the music started up again with a slam bang song sung by the old cowboy himself, Gene Autry, "Back in the Saddle Again," which I thought was quite appropriate. The champagne was poured and the party really commenced. We went on home and my wife said, "Nice little ceremony," to which I said "Uh-huh."

Publicity for the Western (?)

2011-05-18T07:50:00.000-07:00

I watched Dancing with the Stars night before last, well about two-thirds of it anyway, and saw the repeat of the Western song, "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy." At least the dancers were dressed in Western clothes, sort of. And I say anything that promotes the Old West is fine with me. The performance was a repeat of the most popular dance that the production has ran over the years. I would give credit where credit is due, but I didn't hear who wrote it, sang it, or whatever, just the dancing, and this morning I can't remember who the dancers were. They were winners or placers in a previous show.

I doubt that the performance will encourage anyone to go read a Western, though, since that wasn't the emphasis of the show. It would have been nice, however, if Tom Bergeron or Brooke Burke (whistle, whistle) had actually said something along the line of "Now, buy the book," or "Go read a cowboy novel," just as an ad lib, or maybe one of the dancers could have squeezed it in.

Now, someone who does promote the Old West and the reading of western stories is Gary Dobbs (Jack Martin) of http://taintedarchive.blogspot.com. Take a gander at his blog to see the books he has written and the info about the West he blogs about. Just day before yesterday he posted an article on the only Billy the Kid photograph which is going up for auction and expected to bring in a ton of moolah. Also see the True West magazine article on the same thing (www.truewestmagazine.com).

Opinions On Certain Inventions And The West, First Edition

2011-05-15T06:14:00.000-07:00

One of the inventions that comes immediately to mind is the "bullet," which had an awesome effect on the Western way of life of some people. It took a lo-n-g, lo-n-g time for the bullet to be made feasible in fast-firing guns and rifles, from 1260 to the 1800's. If it had taken another hundred years, it would have been overtaken by other inventions that would have eliminated or had a devastating effect on the movies of John Wayne and other western heroes as there wouldn't have been any fast draws and maybe the casualty rates of the World Wars would have been ameliorated somewhat. The outcome of a World war with old-fashioned weapons maybe would have been different, too. The Indians might have won out with their bows and arrows in our little wars, too..

The invention of chewing gum should have had a more intrusive effect on cowboying and smoking. Chewing gum was supposed to be a great substitute for a cigarette, but I don't recall ever seeing a movie where Mr. Wayne opened a pack of gum before shooting a bad guy, but several had to have a last cigarette. The first factory to make chewing gum was opened in 1870, right in the middle of the cowboy and outlaw heyday, and there should have been much more chewing of gum instead of smoking the stogy or ciggy. Some of the saloons were so thick with smoke and tobacco juice that you couldn't see a person standing six feet away. That's a mite exaggerated, but if only they chewed gum, there would have been less lung disease and cancer, maybe.

Dynamite blasting caps, invented by Alfred Nobel (Father of the Peace Prize?? Yes, the one and the same. Photo below.) in 1863. You can blame all those safes that were blown up in the banks and the train tracks destroyed on Mr. Nobel. It sure has made movies exciting, though. And there were even a few dams blown to Kingdom's come by water-starved Westerners, I hear. If Mr. Nobel had opened a pack of chewing gum and thought about it, we may not have all that chaos and destruction. I wonder if he ended his life with a bullet? No, he didn't.

One more today. Alfredo Binetti or Alfred Binet invented the first intelligence test, later known as IQ test in 1911 or thereabouts. He started studying children in 1899 and wrote a book, Experimental Studies of Intelligence (in translation) in 1903 which set the stage for later tests. Hmm-mm. 1899? Almost missed the whole Western era. Maybe if he had came along, say, in 1869 and threw some light on the matters of intelligence, there wouldn't have been so many crazy outlaws running around shooting people, like Billy the Kid and the like. I'm not saying Billy was unintelligent. I'm saying that if he had a psychiatrist back then before he began shooting people, he may have turned out a better person, and an IQ test may have gotten him on the right path. That's all I'm saying.

Photo of Alfred Nobel in public domain due to copyright expiration (Wikimedia).

The Oregon Cow Rancher

2011-05-11T14:20:00.000-07:00

I ran across this old book in an antique store and couldn't pass it up, Pete French, Cattle King, by Elizabeth Lambert Wood, copyright 1951 by the author and published by the Metropolitan Press, Portland, Oregon. The book is a fictional biography of Pete French, who became the biggest cattle rancher in southeast Oregon.

Mr. French was a dreamer ever since his father sent him to work for Doctor Glenn in Jacinto, California, and even in Red Bluff, his hometown, before going south to Jacinto. Red Bluff is south of Redding on the Sacramento River and north of Chico. His dream that kept recurring to him was of a valley in Oregon that he could settle and raise cattle. Doctor Glenn was the person who set him up with that ranch in Harney County after a few years working for him. Pete set about building up the ranch and adding more cattle, even building a big ranch house for his future wife, Ella Glenn, who he had his eyes on since she was eight years' old. They eventually got married, but Ella was a different person than the young girl he knew at Dr. Glenn's house. She wouldn't live on the ranch, hated cattle and anything to do with country life, and lived in San Francisco at the Palace Hotel with money provided by Pete. And he had a lot of it by then, and she lived high on the hog in her very cultured way, while Pete handled the ranching. He had dreams still and he always wanted a bigger ranch, the biggest in Oregon and anywhere else, he dreamed, even though he had thirty thousand cattle and all the land around, it wasn't enough for him. He bought out all the small settlers and ranches around and kept expanding his territory. Over time, he and Ella were divorced, and the small ranchers and settlers were building up a hatred for Pete French, aided by a fellow named Long John, who finally skipped the country because he was playing both sides.

This was a well written book to my way of thinking, even though it was "encumbered" by a feminine style of writing, very cultured in its way, not like the Luke Short or Max Brand style of writing with action being predominant. Anyway, that was the impression I was left with upon finishing it. I enjoyed the reading of it and recommend that if you run across it, don't look at it and put it down, take it home for a couple of hours of recreational reading if you haven't already read it.

The dust jacket was pretty well worn, needing to be mended with scotch tape. I like the sketch of the loner on his horse, exactly the type that Mr. French was.

Luke Short's "Dead Freight for Piute"

2011-05-08T07:29:00.000-07:00

Cole Armin comes to Piute at the request of his Uncle Craig Armin, the owner of the Monarch Freight Company. After the meeting, Cole decides that his uncle is not a fair dealer and wants to prevent any competition hauling the ore from the mines. Cole goes into partnership with Ted Wallace of the Western Freight Co. and tries to beat the Monarch from getting the contract for the China Boy mine. The struggle continues through thick and thin as the Sheriff, supposedly in cahoots with Monarch, plans to get it all himself. Ted Wallce has a beautiful sister, of course, to throw in some love interest and Cole Armin falls for her. Its a dicey game, with Keen Billings who works for Craig Armin, plays dirty tricks on Cole and Ted, like breaking Ted's leg and fighting with Cole, cutting brake handles part way to ruin the freight wagons as they come down the hill, etc.

Lots of fighting and shooting and jailing and flirting and wagons tumbling off the side of the mountain that keeps the story interesting. There is a big surprise as it gets toward the end and the Sheriff's plans are ruined and the bad guys are chased out of town or killed and the good guys win out. Hooray!

I put this book in my car to read while I waited for the wife to visit the quilt shops, grocery store, beauty parlor, and various other places, but I finally finsihed it and it was a fine book, not your typical cowboys and cattle rustling story, and I couldn't wait to get back to it during the wating to find out what happens next.

Reading and Writing

2011-05-05T08:19:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time I participated in a speed-reading course. It's been so long ago that I don't correctly remember where or when. I do remember running a finger down the middle of the page and absorbing all the words in every line. Maybe this was a vision test to see how far I could see laterally, but on second thought, I'm sure it was speed-reading. And the funny (or good) thing was, I fairly well absorbed what was on the page, not word-for-word mind you, but thought-wise. And I remembered it for at least ten seconds, or maybe only a second or two, long enough to get onto the next page and the next set of thoughts. It was a good thing I wasn't tested on the results, because my mind was on something else after a page or two while still going through the motions of speed-reading. Maybe I absorbed what I read subconsciously and could only remember the facts by being hypnotized and coughing them up from my inner soul. Maybe if I had used my middle finger or even my thumb, it would have helped recall the facts better, since I used only my forefinger, and it isn't as big and absorbed less than the thumb or middle finger or even two fingers. I could have been a "Whiz Kid" maybe if I had used my whole hand.

Also in the distant past I had the opportunity to learn shorthand, the Gregg Method, something that I enjoyed and never used in real life. I learned it twice, matter of fact, twice. By the time I had the chance to use it after the first course, I had forgotten it and had to re-learn it all over again. I could listen to conversations and take 'em down right along with it, but of course, I never did, since it was impractical to carry around a notebook and a pencil or two. It would've interefered with my regular duties, e.g., drinking socially and eating ravenously. And it wasn't long before I had forgotten all about shorthand, except for a few words like "and" and "the" and "there" or "their" and "but" or "butt". If I'd become a journalist, it would have been my lifeline. Of course, I would've had to learn to spell though.

The Bloody Gulch

2011-05-01T09:12:00.000-07:00

The Bloody Gulch is my next novel and am hoping to have it out sometime this year. I've finished proof-reading it two or three times, but am rewriting parts of it that don't do much in moving the plot along. It seems like every time I get into the middle of writing it, Walgreen's Pharmacy calls to tell me I have a prescription to pick up. I admit I take a few prescriptions, about half of which are supplements that are prescribed, and the other half regular prescription drugs for one thing and another. The doctors have to make money somehow, they tell me. If it isn't a prescription its a lab test that I have to have.
See how it is, I'm off the subject already, and keeping up with all the blogs takes time, but I don't want to miss anything that I like or think important concerning writing and what-all. I guess I'm just the world's biggest complainer. Maybe if I stopped complaining and devoted that time to writing, I would have been finished with The Bloody Gulch. It isn't like I don't have anything else to complain about, I do, of course. They used to tell me that if you weren't bitching about something you weren't happy. I guess I'm just the happiest feller you ever did meet.

Worst President's Wives, Jane Appleton Pierce

2011-04-28T07:16:00.000-07:00

Jane Appleton Pierce, the wife of the fourteenth President, Franklin Pierce, was depressed, it appears, DEPRESSED, so much so, that she had no interest in her social duties at the White House. Mrs. Pierce had no interset in politics, either, preferring to stay in Massachussetts or New Hampshire than in Washington, D. C., and she hated that Franklin was a Congressman prior to becoming President. He got out of politics for awhile, enlisted in the Army and fought in the Mexican War, but he was drafted to run for President on the Democrat ticket. WOE IS ME, thought Mrs. Pierce, MORE POLITICS. WHY CAN'T HE JUST STAY HOME AND BE A NORMAL HUSBAND? WHY OH WHY? I just put words in her mouth that may not be true, but then again, it may be true that she uttered something like that.

She had a baby, a boy, that only survived for three days, her first, and later on after two more boys were born, one was killed in front of her and Mr. Pierce, a tragic thing to witness, and this may be the cause of her attitude toward politics and Washington or she may have been pre-disposed to it, boring, boring, boring, maybe. All three of her children died at an early age, enough for anyone to lose interest in daily life and difficult to get over. However, Wikipedia stated that she has been given credit for beginning the tradition of the Chirstmas tree in the White House, a project she undertook as she finally took up some of the duites of First Lady.

President Pierce with his mind on the problems of his spouse may have let thiis interfere with his duties as President and may not, but it could have had something to do with his being among the worst Presidents or not.

A fine looking woman, if you ask me, but you can see the sorrow in her left eye and the turn of her mouth. (Source: Wikimedia, picture is in the public domain due to copyright expiration.

Worst Presidents' Wives, Harriet Lane

2011-04-24T06:44:00.000-07:00

There's never been a President Lane, you say? Well, you are correct in that. Harriet Lane was the orphaned niece of James Buchanan, the life-long bachelor, and he pushed onto her all the social duties at the White House. Buchanan adopted her before she became the First Lady. The "Democrat Queen" as Mr. Buchanan tagged her may have influenced him in some decisions, but nothing I read in preparation for this post made me think that she had anything to do with him becoming one of the worst Presidents, a judgement of historians and critics that came after his term.

Harriet Lane was the culture queen of the Washington set, heavy into art and asking cultural guests to attend the functions at the White House, and not unattractive to her acquaintances and friends, having one old gent ask for her hand, which she politely turned down. She did marry after her White House years and had two boys, and devoted herself to furthering the arts and helping people who asked for help, dying in 1903.

Some have said or thought that Pres. Buchanan was gay, although his girlfriend died early and he never got married.

A picture of Harriet Lane (Source: Wikimedia, picture is in public domain, expiration of copyright.)

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!

A Look at Worst President Wives, Abigail Fillmore

2011-04-21T08:02:00.000-07:00

We may as well take a look at President Millard Fillmore's wife, Abigail Powers Fillmore, for no particular reason other than her part, if any, in her husband's bad ratings. To start off with, I'm happy to see that teachers back then were having relationships with their students, at least Abby Powers was. Mr. Fillmore became one of her students. That was in 1819 when she took a teaching post at the New Hope Academy and Millard Fillmore, 19, was her oldest student. And she being only one year older, you knew that sparks were going to fly between them. The Powers family lived near the Fillmore farm in Stillwater, New York, in her early years and there is a possibility she knew Millard earlier, before the family moved WEST after the death of her father, her mother thinking it would be cheaper to live in a less settled area..

But the morals of the age must not have allowed much in the way of "closeness" since their courtship lasted for years, about seven to be exact, and I think by then they had gotten to know each other pretty well. Abigail loved to read BOOKS and she later started a White House library with an appropriation from Congress. Millard also loved BOOKS and she and he spent hours and hours reading together. WOOPS! I just assumed they did this since they both loved BOOKS so much, who knows or cares? They did manage to have two children before the Presidential years, so they had to interrupt their reading a couple of times.

Lo and behold! While Mr. Fillmore was Vice President, President Zachary Taylor up and died, and Millard became the President. The succeeding President, Pierce, was inaugurated outdoors in 1853 and Mrs. Fillmore caught a cold which turned into Pneumonia and she passed away just 26 days after leaving the White House.

As I read this short bio on Wikipedia, I saw no mention of slavery, the massacre at Bleeding Kansas, or any other indication of helping her husband be judged one of the worst Presidents in our nation's history. The book, First Ladies by Betty Boyd Caroli, says that she was up on the issues of the day and Millard bounced his plans and ideas off her, but there was nothing of her own ideas in this regard. And as far as I could tell, there were no gate-crashers busting into the parties either. Below is a picture of the lovely Abigail Powers Fillmore, the sixteenth First Lady, dressed to the nines, for your viewing pleasure. (Source Wikipedia and Wikimedia, picture is in the public domain, and the book aforementioned.)

Another President

2011-04-17T07:15:00.000-07:00

Millard Fillmore has shown up on more than one list as a worst President. Its beyond me why. Maybe it was because he was number 13, or maybe it was because he appointed Brigham Young Governor of Utah, or maybe it was because he joined the Know-Nothing Movement, or maybe it was because he was the last member of the Whig Party to become President, or maybe it was because he opposed the proposal to keep slavery out of the Western Territories, or maybe it was because as Vice Pres he became Pres after Zachary Taylor died in office on Jan 9, 1850 and he served until 1853, or maybe it was because the aforementioned Mr. Young named the capital of Utah Fillmore and the county Millard in retaliation for the appointment as Governor. or maybe it was because he detested slavery, but was pro-slavery, thinking it would help win more votes., or maybe it was because he signed the bill admitting California as a free state and also the one settling the Texas boundaries and the one making New Mexico a territory, and the one called the Fugitive Slave Act which placed federal officers at the disposal of slaveholders seeking escapted slaves, and the one that abolished the slave trade but not slavery in the District of Columbia, all bills of Stephen A. Douglas.

In any event, the three men classed as among the worst Preisdents were all in a row, one after the other, in office just prior to the Civil War, and maybe that's why. Maybe the people were discombobulated during that period and no one fit the bill, or maybe it's the historians that are discombobulated feeling they have to name somebody the worst. And since they were in office more than 150 years ago, I'm not going to waste any more time today thinking about it. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. .

Welcome to a New Follower/Another Forgotten President Quick Peek

2011-04-14T12:26:00.000-07:00

A hearty welcome to the blog to J. R. SANDERS, author of The Littlest Wrangler published by Moonlight Mesa Associates.

As President, Franklin Pierce made many divisive decisions which were widely criticized and earned him the reputation as one of the worst Presidents in U. S. history. He was the Pres from 1853-1857, prior to James Buchanan, and the only Pres from New Hampshire. One of his problems, if not the major one, was that he was pro-slavery, and signed the Kansas-Nebraska Act which repealed the Missouri Compromise prohibiting slavery in the Louisiana Territory but allowing it in Missouri and renewed the debate over expanding slavery in the WEST. The Kansas-Nebraska Act created the territories of Kansas and Nebraska and allowed the citizens to decide if they wanted slavery. Its main purpose was to provide for the Transcontinetal Railroad One of his successes was the Gadsden Purchase where he bought southern New Mexico and southern Arizona for ten million dollars to build a southern railroad..

That's President Pierce pulling the beard of the Free-Soilier and President Buchanan pulling on the hair as Stephen A. Douglas shoves a black man down his throat. (Source: Wikipedia. Image is in the public domain due to its age.)

The Emancipation Proclamation of Pres Lincoln ended the prospect of more slavery in the West, but it took a Civil War to do it.

Quick Peek at a Forgotten President

2011-04-10T07:12:00.000-07:00

James Buchanan was one of the worst Presidents according to a TV announcement this week, so let's take a look at his record as it relates to the West. He was born in Pennsylvania in 1791 and died in 1868, a life-long and the only bachelor President. First, there was the Dred Scott descision, which says Congress has no business excluding slavery, and Mr. Buchanan didn't become President until a week after. It pertained mostly to the South, but there was slavery in Texas, primarily in the eastern part where the cotton was produced. Buchanan didn't interfere with this decision, although some politicians inferred that he was not completely innocent.
Over the issue of slavery, John Brown showed up for the massacre of Bleeding Kansas, building support for anti-slavery and the advent of the "Border Ruffians" and later (after Buchanan's term) Quantrill's Raiders with some of the better known Western personalities (the Younger Gang) taking part in support of the pro-slavery forces. Stephen A. Douglas won the battle with Buchanan and the anti-slavery faction won out.
In 1858 there was the battle with Utah. Buchanan appointed a governor to take over from Brigham Young, but the Mormons fought back using a "scorched earth" policy against the Army, destroying there supply wagons and burning up the fields, but not harming the drivers or the soldiers. A settlement was finally reached, the Army was let in and the new Governor arrived.
James B. was President from 1857 to 186l, a one-termer, and was superseded by Lincoln. Was he a victim of circumstance or not handling problems to fit the majority of the people? To me, it was the latter.
All this didn't have much effect, if any, on the Western way of life during Buchanan's term, except for those directly involved, because the West didn't really get revved up until after the Civil War.

(Source: Wikipedia, with my comments thrown in.)

A short peek at the Pony Express/True Grit

2011-04-07T08:44:00.000-07:00

This invention of necessity to speed up the mails (The Pony Express) was only in exitsence for about eighteen months until no longer needed because of the telegraph. I was thinking about this during the writing of the last post, which mentioned St. Joe, MO, briefly. I took the little side tour a few years ago through the Pony Express Museum with my wife's nephew who lived there. The Express served a meaningful purpose and a useful but short life. The trail was almost 2,000 miles to California with almost 200 way stations and I guess that Buffalo Bill (William Cody) still holds the record for the longest ride between two points, riding 322 miles in 21 hours, forty minutes, although Jack Keetley did about the same thing riding 340 miles in thirty-one hours. Some of the other riders were: Johnny Fry, William Upson, James Randall (the first rider going east from San Francisco to Sacramento - by boat), and "Pony Bob" Haslam (Robert Haslam), who holds the record for the fastest ride (120 miles in 8 hours and 20 minutes) and got wounded by an arrow on the way. (Source: Wikipedia.)

John Wayne's eye patch from True Grit is going up for auction in LA October 3-6, 2011, as reported by Reuters, along with some personal items, e.g., cowboy boots, hats, etc.

Kanesville, Iowa/Council Bluffs City/Fire on the Pawnee Reservation

2011-04-03T07:24:00.000-07:00

My great-grandfather on my mother's side of the family lived in the area or in the town of Kanesville, Iowa, from 1846 to 1850 when he and family emigrated to the Rocky Mountains. Kanesville was the fitting out point for the Mormons traveling to the West, and with the gold-rushers going to California in 1849, it became the main starting point along the Missouri River for emigres along with St. Joseph and Wesport, Missouri. Kanesville was named for Thomas L. Kane, a man sympathetic to the Mormons who negotiated in Washington for the Mormon use of the land. On the western side of the Missouri was Winter Quarters, Nebraska Territory, now surrounded by Omaha..

My ggfather grew corn on his property, worked as a miller, and cut logs during his stay in Kanesville, from which he was able to make enough money to outfit a wagon to carry him and family West. The rush of gold-seekers helped a lot of them that were stuck while working to get in shape for the journey, sending prices higher than normal and causing scarcities in some crops and supplies.

Kanesville was changed to Council Bluffs in 1852 as being more fitting since the Lewis and Clark expedition meeting was held here at Council Bluffs with the Indians and with most of the Mormons having departed. As far as I know, the Indian Agency has always been called the Council Bluffs Agency. At least is was called that when my other gggrandfather on my father's side was working for the Indian Agent in the late 1830's until 1847 in the Territory of Nebraska on the Pawnee Reservation. When the Pawnees became upset and set his house on fire, there was no mention of my gggrandmother, although his two sons were there with him. I assume she was living in Kanesville or maybe Winter Quarters during this time.

You may get a chuckle from my story about my great-great-grandfather's Journey to the Rocky Mountains published in the May 2010 issue of Frontier Tales, frontiertales.com.

AA-ARGH!

2011-03-31T07:12:00.000-07:00

While I was lying in the hospital having been operated on earlier that day, our roofmate calls and says we need to get a new roof. Roofmate? Yes, we live in a duplex and we both have to agree on things like this. Anyway, she tells us that she's getting a free roof from the hail damage and we should take advantage of it and get ours done, too. Nice timing!

The upshot of this was, we did get a new roof (it looks nice), but now the patio cover needs replacement from the damage, and a couple of screens and some gutter.
The wife says, "Now is a good time to do some window replacements, too." And that was added on. No, there was no damage to the windows, so that won't be covered by the insurance, oh, yes, add some new lights on the garage and replace those old post lights on the patio. So, you can tell where this is going or where it went.
The window rep came yesterday to measure the front windows, and DOORS!, and a side window. The patio man came out Monday and did his measurements, but we still have to get a hold of the screen man. The electrician is coming next Monday, and the gutter rep WON'T be coming; there just wasn't that much damage to it.

I'm never going into the hospital again! Who knows what might happen next time? No, sir, I'm staying away from hospitals or we may end up with a completely remodeled house that we can't afford and nobody will want to buy. AA-ARGH!

Chris Enss' new book

2011-03-27T07:28:00.000-07:00

Chris Enss has a new book entitled, None Wounded, None Missing, All Dead: The Story of Elizabeth Bacon Custer. The official launch will be in Dodge City, the Long Branch Saloon, and is the story of General Custer's wife's life. It should be an enlightening and gratifying read.

Ms. Enss also has written a more detailed review of the Festival of the West which can be read on her journal site, http://chrisenssjournal.com/. You may have to google the url.

The wife and I went to breakfast at the bowling alley yesterday morning and then stopped at a used book sale run by the Sun City Daily News. This is a charity event held annually. I found few westerrns, but picked out the following for my TBR pile:

1. A Death in Indian Wells by Lewis B. Patten. I've never heard of this author, but will check him out when I get into the book.
2. The Fastest Gun in Texas by J. T. Edson. Haven't read him that I recall, either, but I know he has written more than one western.
3. West of the Wolverine by Paul Evan Lehman, another unknown by me.
4. The Prairie by James Fenimore Cooper. Everyone has heard of him. This is the last of the Leatherstocking tales about Natty Bumpo, not one have I read.
5. Knights of the Range by Zane Grey, the most beautiful lady in Texas tames a wild outlaw gang, the cover declares. Haven't read this one before.
6. And a hardback, The Great Southwest by Charles McCarry, photographed by George F. Mobley,
a National Geographic Publication. Mucho photos covering the States of Oklahoma, Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, Utah, Arizona, and southern Nevada and southern California.

These will keep me occupied for quite awhile.

The West An Illustrated History

2011-03-24T08:14:00.000-07:00

I picked this book off my shelf this morning and almost dropped it, it was so heavy. It is 9 1/2" by 11 1/2", not quite as large as the normal coffee table book, but is jammed and crammed with 445 pages of writing and photos. It's authored by Geoffrey C. Ward with a Preface by Stephen Ives and Ken Burns. This is the book that resulted from the television series that puts the whole thing in one place for those interested in delving more into it.

The Preface states, "With all its heroism and inequity, exploitation and adventure, sober realities and bright myths, it is the story of all of us, no matter where on the continent we happen to live, no matter how recently our ancestors arrived on its shores." So be it.

It covers the first explorers, the gold-seekers, the Indians, the ditch-diggers, the pioneers, the good, the bad and the ugly, all of us included. You may have watched the TV series and enjoyed it along with the rest of us or you may have picked up a copy of the book and fumbled through it, reading parts here and there, and set it aside to return later and give it a more thorough going over. Whatever, I'm sure you'll find the movie series and this book to be a fine example of history and something you may look at and refer to on questions concerning the West.

As for myself right now, I'm going to return the book to its position on the shelf and whenever something comes up in which I have only a vague recollelction or none at all, maybe I'll pull it out and enlighten myself about whatever it is. It's just too heavy to hold up for very long.

National Festival of the West, Scottsdale, AZ

2011-03-20T08:37:00.000-07:00

The National Festival of the West is gong on this weekend at Westworld in Scottsdale, but I will not be attending this one. It has a star-studded lineup including Larry Gatlin and the Gatlin Brothers, the New Pioneers, Crosstown Cowboys, and other musical groups. And a great lineup of celebrities signing autographs and goods for sale, and the Buffalo Soldiers, Arizona Gunfighters, Poets, Chuckwagon Cooking, Mountain Men, and all that good stuff. There weill be several TV and Movie Actors there including Clint Black, John Saxon, Ed Faulkner, Dan Haggerty, and others. Among the authors will be Rusty Richards, John Conley, Becky Burgoyne and others.

And a good time will be had by all and one of them will receive the Cowboy Spirit Award.

True West Mag

2011-03-17T08:13:00.000-07:00

Just received the April 2011 edition of True West magazine. It has the answers to the "Three True Grits, Which one is the true masterpiece?" Includes info on the author Charles Portis, and may answer your many questions about the movie.

The mag also lists 75 historic towns, "Snapshots of Old West History," where to go, what to do regarding the subject. Another fine issue full of exciting facts, pictures, and ads, of course. Whew-ee, it'll keep me occupied for an hour or two.

2011-03-13T09:19:00.000-07:00

I didn't get completely away from reading and writing the west while I was in the hospital and recuperating. I have another short story about ready for submission and The Bloody Gulch is almost at the brink of submission. Just a little polish to be added and another proof reading.

I finished reading the following novels, The Man from Shenandoah by Marsha Ward, The Sundown Chaser by Dusty Richards, and The Wild Breed by Frank Leslie. Three different stories and three different writing styles, but all very enjoyable. Can't say that one is better than the other, although Mr. Leslie's detailed descriptions of the action and landscape left me with the feeling that it was a bit wordy, but he carried it off with enthusiasm and liveliness and carried me right into the scenery, a silent partner.

And I'm getting well into Sea of Glory by Nathaniel Philbrick, the story of the U. S. Exploring Expedition of 1838-41. After years of haggling and arguing and indecision, Lieutenant Charles Wilkes is off to explore the southern reaches of the great seas. Of course he arrives in the vicinity of Antartica at the wrong time of the year, but he will not be deterred. The ships sail from Norfolk, Virginia, and head to Madeira and then on to Rio de Janeiro where they spent too much time, before heading south. And now they are floating among the ice bergs in the snow looking for that elusive land that's supposed to be down there, maybe. I will have to keep reading to see if they find it.

Successful!

2011-03-06T10:50:00.000-08:00

The operation was a success, but the patient is taking a long time to recover. He is up walking about some and grocery shopping, improving a little each day. The surgeon removed a section of the transverse colon which was found to have a polyp out of control and increasing in size and girth. It urned out to be benign, thank God, but his abdomen is still tender and getting used to the new setup.

He will have a lot of blogs to catch up on, including the patient's own, but he hopes to get back in the swing of things before too long. His mental attitude is such that he's not quiet ready to resume a full load, what with income tax staring down his throat and ready to rip his brain asunder figuring it out. It gets more complicated each year.

He says, The Hell With It! and wishes everyone a HAPPY ST. PATRICK'S DAY! Begorra.

Nicely Proceeding

2011-02-24T13:47:00.000-08:00

Maybe anolthr two weeks, more or less. I'm in a recuperative mode for now.

Proceeding

2011-02-13T05:32:00.000-08:00

Things are proceeding as expected, nicely according to plan, but it will be a couple more weeks before it's back to normal. Meanwhile. I've been squeezing a bit of reading in and thought that Writing the West with Dusty Richards was well worth the money although it didn't cost me a cent. It contains some good tips to include or exclude in a fledgling writer's western novel writing and helped me, hopefully, improve my writing. A great bargain for those writers of the west at only $19.95.

HAPPY VALENTINBE'S DAY!!

Sporadic Posts

2011-01-23T05:56:00.000-08:00

ANNOUNCEMENT!

Postings through February will be sporadic, if at all. Taking time off for personal crap that can't be delayed and I'll be working on my unpublished novels.

Amarilla Bound

2011-01-20T06:03:00.000-08:00

"How far you reckon to Amarilla, Wuss?"

"Only 'bout eighty miles, two days of hard riding. We got to get across this Llano Estacado with our scalps intact and we'll be there. How's the girl holdin' up?" asked Wussy.

"I'm doin' just fine, Marshal. The sooner we get there, the better," she said from behind him. She was riding double with the Marshal, but he couldn't see much from his angle. He could feel her arms around his waist, though, as she gave him a squeeze that sent a quickening through his loins.

He turned his head and whispered, "Maybe we should stop awhiile, and I'll send Horse up ahead on a scout and we'll have some time alone." He gave her a wink and rested one hand on her arm.

"I told you, I'm not that kind of girl. I don't want to stop. I want to get to Amarilla."

Disappointed, he pulled alongside Horse, saying, "What's that up ahead, Horse? It looks like somebody's old camp from here. It don't look good with them vultures hanging around."

"That's what it is, all right. Look at those clumps on the ground, what is that?" replied Horse.

Drawing closer, they saw the clumps were bodies, five of them, and they looked like they had been there for a couple of days, all swollen up with blow flies hovering and landing on them. They had been scalped and mutilated, adding the smell of blood to the attraction for the insects, coyotes, and vultures.

"Whew! That smell is terrible," said Horse. "Who do you s'pose they are, our cow thieves?"

"Miss, I'm goin' to drop you off at that lone cedar tree over there," said Wussy. "This ain't no sight for a woman of your delicate nature."

"My husband's lying there. I'm not going anywhere," she said. She climbed off the horse and ran to each of the bodies. She had a hard time finding him, because of all the blood and gore and swelling. "This is him," she yelled and kneeled by one of them. She didn't yell and scream and cry or try to hug the body, but sat back on her feet and stared, a dainty white hanky held over her mouth and nose.

"Come, lass, there ain't nothing you can do for him, except give him a burial of some kind," said Wussy.

She looked up at the lawman, her eyes dry, and said, "I'll never miss this piece of dung. I don't care whether he's buried or not. He'll never lay another hand on me." She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh.

"Them's our rustlers, all right," said Horse, looking at each corpse and naming them off. "And there's two dead beef where they had their fire. The Comanche must have had a big party, five scalps and forty animals to steal," said Horse.

"Let's bury these bodies and take the girl to Amarilla," said Wuss. "Ain't no use chasing after the cattle. We'll report it to the Army and let them handle it. Horse, get all their personals out of their pockets and we'll take that, too. If you're keeping score, Horse, you can put down Comanche - 5, Texans -0."

THE END

HISTORICAL NOTE: Although the Comanche won the battle in this fiction, their numbers had dwindled from around 30,000-40,000 to less than half that by 1870 [to 8,000 per tolatsga.org]. The white man's diseases decimaed the tribe with plagues of the measles, smallpox and cholera, not counting those killed outright by the white man. Their population has increased to over 14,000 at the present time. (Source: Wikipedia)

(I don't follow instructions very well. No deep canyons or agonizing protaganist, etc. Maybe I should read them again.)

Bert's Crossing, Re-did

2011-01-16T05:55:00.000-08:00

{Picking up from where they spotted the lost girl, I'll start over.]

"Go see what she wants, Horse. One of us has to keep out of sight in case this is a trick of some kind."

Horse casually walked up to the girl and said something that I couldn't quite hear.

The girl gasped and hauled off and slapped Horse on the side of his cheek, knocking off his hat, saying, "Why you miserable little excuse for a lawman, I ain't that kind of girl. Besides, I ain't had nothin' to eat in three days, since them cowboys pulled out herding the beef like they wanted to get to Amarilla by noon. You got something to feed a young lady, Mister?" She blinked her eyes in a coquettish fashion and ran her pink tongue across her full reddish lips.

Horse reached down and picked up his hat, turned back to face her, looked into her blue eyes.

"My pard, the Marshal, has some prairie chicken he was goin' to cook up until we spied you comin' out of the brush. Maybe you'll change your mind after a good barbecued chicken breast," he said, eyeing her full bosom that was rising up and down under her flowery dress. "Come on out, Wussy! There ain't nothin' here by but this young woman. I promised her some chicken as soon as you can cook it up. She's awful hungry."

I was standing by his side by the time he had finished talking with the prairie bird in my hand. "I'm plumb out of barbecue sauce, Miss. Why don't you fix it the way you like it? Horse and I ain't too particular as long as it's cooked well."

"How'm I supposed to get the feathers off that thing, there ain't no water here since all the run-off from the rain has dried up? And I don't even have a pot to put it in, anyway," and she started crying, holding her hands up to her eyes.

Well, Horse and I got her calmed down and built a nice fire and singed off the feathers, telling her, "Now, see, that wasn't so difficult, was it? After you clean out the insides, you can run a green branch of mesquite tree through it and hold it over the fire, turning it over and over till it's cooked clear through, see. Horse, why don't you take a look around and make sure them rustlers cleared out. We don't want to be interrupted during our dinner."

While we were eating, I was keeping an eye on her, noticing the dainty way she held the leg in her fingers and opened her mouth just enough to take a nice-sized bite and closing her lips and chewing gently, savoring every little morsel. I was falling hard for her, she was such a pretty little thing, all alone with nobody to look our for her or protect from them bad elements that always found a way to take advantage of a pretty girl.

Horse returned from another of his rounds and interrupted my thoughts by saying, "We might be able to catch up with them cattle, if we can get out of here early enough in the morning. What are we going to do with this girl?"

"We'll have to take her along with us. Is that all right with you, Miss...Miss...?

"My name is Loretta, Loretta Taylor Lancaster, and I was forced to go along with my husband while they stole them cattle. They said I was holding them up when we reached here, and I got in an argument with my husband over it. They just rode off and left me here with no horse or food and didn't say when they would be back. I have friends in Amarilla, if that's where you're headed."

"Is that where they're takin' the cattle, Amarilla?"

"Of course. That's where the railroad is. They can sell them for a good price with no questions asked at the cattle yards."

They left camp as the sun was coming up and headed across the flat land in the direction of Amarilla. There was no sign that any cattle had been herded through the grass and brush. The rain had fixed that with the grass springing back to its natural state with the high water content sucked up from the wet earth.

[Next - Amarilla bound.]

Bert's Crossing

2011-01-13T05:43:00.000-08:00

The rain finally let up and for two days we sweltered in the hot sun on a trail with no tracks looking for any trace that would lead us to the Crossing where the rustlers supposedly were. It was getting late and the sun hovered a few degrees above the horizon as we called it a day.

"It'll be easier tomorrow when we get down onto the flats, Horse," I reckoned. "I could see from that last hilltop that the lay of the land gets a might easier. We're almost out of the hills."

"And then all we gotta do is find Bert's," said Horse, like that was going to be hard to do.

We came riding down out of the hills the next morning not long after we broke camp, trailing our two jackasses loaded with our caboodle and headed for a small black dot on the far horizon barely distinguishable from the vegetation around it.

"By damn, Horse, see that tiny spot up ahead theer to the west? That's gotta be Bert's Crossing. I only been here one other instance and it looked the same then. It gets bigger as we get closer to it," I told my deputy.

"I don't see nothin' but greenery thataway, you know, creosote bushes, palo verdes, prickly pear, cholla, a few mesquites, lots of good hiding places for those rustlers we're after, Wuss."

"Well, I sure see it. Follow me quietly in case they're still around. We'll try to catch 'em unawares and knock 'em jawdiggety before they know what hit 'em,"

We dropped down into an arroyo, just deep enough to conceal the animals. We had to dismount and walk the rest of the way to a turn in the groove where we could get a clear look at what's left standing at this desolate spot in the high desert.

"Why, it's jist a wooden pole with a sign on it, Wuss. What gives with that?"

"Don't stick your head up too high or you'll get an arrow through it, Horse. Them Comanche has concealed theerselves in all that greenery you saw back theer. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna walk out theer and build a little fire like I was gittin' ready to cook up a chicken. It's been my experience that them Comanche likes the chicken and they're always hungry, that's why there so scrawny and puny lookin'. When you see the first one come out of the brush, shoot 'im and make sure you kill him deader than a doornail. But, if he's carrying a white flag, don't shoot. That means they want to parley. You jist stay hidden and keep your eyes open and stay alert. Comanches are pretty sneaky and one or two or a dozen of 'em might sneak up on you and lift your scalp. Got that, Horse?"

"Yep, I got it, but I ain't plannin' to lose..... Hold on, just a minute! That ain't no Comanch' comin' out of the brush. By God, it's a girl! And a pretty little thing, too. She must be lost, out here all by herself."

They both raced to the lost soul, but Wussy won that one, grabbing the woman by the shoulders and looking deep into her blue eyes, not even noticing the color of her long hair or the color of her long dress that draped gracefully over her full chest.

"Are you hungry, Miss? I was just goin' to cook up a chicken, one of those prairie type that taste so delicious over a bonfire," said Wussy. "Better yet, why don't you cook it, and Horse and I'll keep a lookout for those cattle thieves we're after. They may sneak back and attack us."

"Hell, Wuss, no wonder you ain't never been married," said Horse. "The least you can do is ask her her name and offer to do the cookin' the first time."

[Shucks, this thing is getting out of hand. Short stories are the hardest thing to write. I'll have to straighten this out in the next part before I can make heads or tails of it.]

(By the way, we saw True Grit and everyhting that's been said about it is true, that is, it was a helluva movie, lots of good acting and actors and actresses and horses and guns and shooting and bad men and drunks and, and, and....well, you just better take your movie-mate to see it.}

Now, Let's Try Out Those Instructions

2011-01-09T04:43:00.000-08:00

We're going to compose a short story following the rules I set forth in my last post to demonstrate their wisdom and efficiency for writing westerns. Here goes.....

We woke up to a torrential downpour and had to wait it out in the gloomy, dampness of our small tent that was pitched on the side of a hill. My deputy looked at me in disgust.

"How long ya think it'll last?"

I returned his gaze, taking in his sodden blue jacket, long brown hair under the black cowboy hat, his muddy boots, and answered with another question.

"Were the animals all right? Were they just standin' there, not movin' or shaking their tails?"

"Course they were. What are they supposed to do in this rain, run around and stand on their hind legs?"

I ignored his remark and asked him another question.

"What direction were they facing, or did you even notice?"

"Hell, you can't tell directions in this weather, but they was facin' downhill thataway," he raised an arm and pointed.

"The rain won't last long," I said.

He looked at me funny-like out of his brownish eyes, took off his hat, ran a forefinger across his upper lip smoothing down his black mustache.

"How far you think it is to Bert's Crossing?" he said. "We been on the trail for three days and all the tracks are going to be washed out in this rain. You said they'd be at Bert's Crossing. In fact, you said you'd stake your horse and boots on it "

"We should be comin' up on it any day now. It oughta be only a few miles north-by-northwest from here. They'll be there, Horse," I told him.

His name was Horace, but he didn't mind being called Horse. "It has a sound of power and speed, Wussy," he said.

"Yeah, my name is Wussy, all right. Wussy Warshaw. I liked it better than Winston," I told him back then. "Maybe, Horse, that's why we get along so good. Our names are contradictory to our reality. Just look at you, nothin' like a horse for Hell's sake. You're small and insignifcant and slow as the seven years' itch. And me, I'm tall, wide and handsome and strong as an ox, fast with my draw. Perfect opposites we are,"

"Mebbe so, mebbe so, but one of these days everybody'll know Horse as the brainiest lawman to ever come down the trail. Mark my words, Wussy."

He laid down on his bedding, yawned, and said, "Wake me up when the rain stops."

[You'll notice that we began the beginning at just about the right point and we're heading North-by-Northwest where we'll soon be on the outskirts of Bert's Crossing. And we also laid out a plot. Right on.]