ONE EYE, DEAD EYE, DEAD SURPRISE--CHARLEY PARKHURST by Marisa Masterson

 One-eyed Charley Parkhurst. This name became a legend in the West, especially in Northern California where this person settled and earned fame. But fame for doing what?

Pull up a chair and let me tell you 'bout old One-Eyed Charley!

Life in that orphanage back East was no picnic. Charley ran away from it at around the age of twelve. The God Lord smiled on him since he met Ebenezer Balch. Now Balch had a kind heart and a good way with horses. He taught Charley everything he knew about running a livery and caring for the animals.

Well, some years passed. Then it happened. They discovered gold in California. Men started flocking to the place. That gave Charley an itch for adventure. 

Charley made his way to Boston and boarded a ship, the R.B. Forbes, to take him to Panama. In Panama, he had to leave the ship and walk across land to reach the Pacific Ocean. Sure enough, the Lord was lookin' out for old Charley again. He met businessman John Morton there. The man owned a freighter outfit and needed drivers like Charley.

That Charley was one fine whip, as they called the drivers. In fact, he earned a special name--six-horse Charley. 'Course the other name came later when a horse kicked him in the eye, blinding it. From then on, folks mostly called him One-Eyed Charley.

You might be thinkin' that Dead Eye in the title was on account of Charley losin' that eye. That's not so. Outlaws learned to fear Charley Parkhurst. 

He carried a .44 caliber pistol and never hesitated to shoot anyone dead if the man tried to hold up Charley's stage. And he rarely missed what he aimed at with that gun or the coach gun. From twenty feet, he could cut the cigar out of a man's mouth if he aimed at it. Yes, he was that good.

All this would be enough to make Old Charley a legend. Funny thing is that Charley's legend grew after he died. All because of the surprise he had waitin' for folks.

After the cancer took Charley, the undertaker got him ready for burying. Only, the man couldn't help but notice that Charley was a woman. Charlotte.

Charley's obituary summed it up well.

On Sunday last, there died a person known as Charley Parkhurst, aged 67, who was well-known to old residents as a stage driver. He was, in early days, accounted one of the most expert manipulators of the reins who ever sat on the box of a coach. It was discovered when friendly hands were preparing him for his final rest, that Charley Parkhurst was unmistakably a well-developed woman! (Sacramento Daily Bee, December 1879)

Now don't that beat all!

Just consider this. Since Charley voted in an election for president, that makes her the first one in the United States to have the vote.

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Want adventure and romance? Please check out my latest release. From Minnesota to Wyoming, this couple will travel far before they can find their happily ever after...

Robbie MacTavish never thought to write away for a wife. After his wife’s death years earlier, he decided never to remarry. His aunt has other ideas and writes to a “friend of a friend”, Mrs. Ella Milton. When the bride fails to show, he is more relieved than disappointed. He needs to focus his attention on leading his family’s group of wagons to Wyoming.

When Veronica, his bride’s much older sister, appears and not Verity, Robbie suddenly grows much more interested in marrying. Will he be able to convince this woman that he needs only her as his wife while they race against time to find Verity?

Breast Binding: Dangerous!

Have you ever read a romance, historical or contemporary, in which the heroine disguises herself as a boy/man? And she binds her breasts? I’m thinking of a book I love: Ashes in the Wind by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss. In it, the heroine binds her breasts for weeks, maybe months (I don’t recall exactly) in order to pass herself off as a boy and work in a Union hospital in New Orleans during the Civil War.

Now, Ms. Woodiwiss was and still is a hero of mine and I hate to criticize her work, but she really should have done more research on the topic of breast binding. I recently read up on it myself because I was planning to have the heroine of my upcoming book don men’s clothing and follow her love, the hero, into danger. She considers binding her breasts but instead decides to strategically pad her undergarment.

Why? Because I learned by poking around on the internet how binding, particularly with bandages, can damage soft tissues and underlying muscles if done over a prolonged period. It may cause shortness of breath, chafing, excessive sweating, rashes, back pain, bruised and even broken ribs. Unsafe binding may lead to permanent deformation of the breasts, scarring, and lung constriction.

Yowser! I sure didn’t want my heroine experiencing such unpleasantness. She has enough to deal with as it is.

Despite all the nasty side effects, breast binding has gone on historically. Wearing a corset was one way to reduce the size of breasts. There was widespread use of corsets throughout western European history up to the Victorian era. The Japanese kimono is a very elaborate form of binding. The obi (belt) goes around the lower torso, while the chest is bound by the sarashi. In the 1920s, flappers bound their chests to achieve the desired look.

I doubt American pioneer women bound their breasts. They were too busy raising children, cooking, sewing and helping their men tame the Wild West. However, a number of women disguised as men fought in the Civil War, their gender going undiscovered until they happened to be wounded or come down sick and require medical attention. They may quite possibly have bound their breasts.

There is also the famous case of Charley Parkhurst (Charlotte) who worked for years as a stagecoach driver in the West. “Loose fitting clothing hid her femininity and after a horse kicked her, an eye patch over one eye helped conceal her face. She weighed 175 pounds, could handle herself in a fistfight and drank whiskey like one of the boys.” Who knows if she bound her breasts? 

THE JEHU, THE WHIP, THE STAGECOACH DRIVER By Cheri Kay Clifton

As an historical western author, I am constantly researching factual information to weave into my fictional stories. As I’m sure other historical authors will agree, it can be both interesting and time-consuming, even becoming an obsession to the detriment of getting the book written!

In Destiny’s Journey, Book 2 of my Wheels of Destiny Trilogy, a secondary character works for the Wells, Fargo and Company Stagecoach Line as a stagecoach driver. Of course, I found a wealth of information about the history of stagecoaches and in particular, Wells, Fargo and Company. However, I had to delve deeper to better understand the extremely difficult job of driving a stagecoach as well as appreciate the man holding the reins.

Drivers were often called nicknames such as, “whip,” “jehu,” and reinsman. The name, “jehu” came from the biblical King Jehu in the Old Testament who was known for driving his chariot fast and furiously. The jehu’s profession required excellent horsemanship, driving skills and often demanded great courage traveling through hostile Indian country and the possibility of being threatened by highway robbers.

Many of the stage routes traveled over rugged roads, wheels sinking into deep sand or thick mud; other routes wound through mountains, the trails hugging the sides of steep and narrow cliffs. Stagecoaches averaged about 5 miles per hour, depending on the terrain. On some routes, the driver would have his own section, driven over and over, usually covering about 50 miles. A driver could make a good salary, sometimes as much as $125 a month, plus room and board. Average age for most drivers were under the age of 40.

The nickname, “whip,” is self-explanatory. Many stagecoach drivers considered their whips as badges of honor. They took pride in them, some handcrafted with silver layered over handles made of hickory.  The whips had buckskin lashes, usually 11 to 12 feet long. Unlike the way they were depicted in the movies, stagecoach drivers seldom used cracking of the whip. They were concerned the sharp sounds could not only startle their passengers but worse yet, spook their horses. 

Obviously, most important were the two or three pairs of reins the driver held in his hands, depending on a four or six-horse team. Sensitive to the driver’s lead, the horses responded to the slightest movement of the reins and depended on the driver for continual guidance. Often shouting commands, the reinsman just as often soothed his horses with soft spoken words to encourage them along precarious mountain trails.

Among the most daring and legendary who rode the “box,” were Clark Foss, George Monroe, Henry “Hank” Monk, and Charlie Webster. Although they were mostly men drivers, there were also women, namely Charley Parkhurst, Mary Fields and Delia Haskett Rawson.  Tobacco-chewin’ Charley Parkhurst, who was well-known throughout California for being one of the best jehus in the stage business, to everyone’s shock, was discovered to be a biological woman when her body was prepared for burial.

Noted whip of the Gold Rush days. 
Drove a stage over Mt. Madonna in 
early days of valley. Last run
San Juan to Santa Cruz. Death in
cabin near the 7-mile house,
revealed "One Eyed Charlie",
a woman. The first woman to vote
in the U.S. Nov. 3, 1868

Erected 1955

Pajaro Valley Historical Ass'n.

Stagecoaches were not just for passengers. They often carried legal documents, large bank deposits, company payrolls as well as the U.S. Mail. When carrying valuable freight, for added protection, “shotgun messengers” rode beside the driver, armed with their trusty double-barreled shotguns.

Even though trains were being used more and more for transporting both passengers and cargo, they were still confined to their tracks.  It wasn’t until the early 1900’s when the introduction of the automobile actually led to the end of the stagecoach.

During these difficult times, wishing you "happy, healthy and safe trails!" 

Click to see Destiny's Journey, Book 2, Wheels of Destiny Trilogy 

THE JEHU, THE WHIP, THE STAGECOACH DRIVER by Cheri Kay Clifton

 As an historical western author, I am constantly researching factual information to weave into my fictional stories. As I’m sure other historical authors will agree, it can be both interesting and time-consuming, even becoming an obsession to the detriment of getting the book written!

In Destiny’s Journey, Book 2 of my Wheels of Destiny Trilogy, a secondary character works for the Wells, Fargo and Company Stagecoach Line as a stagecoach driver. Of course, I found a wealth of information about the history of stagecoaches and in particular, Wells, Fargo and Company. However, I had to delve deeper to better understand the extremely difficult job of driving a stagecoach as well as appreciate the man holding the reins.

Drivers were often called nicknames such as, “whip,” “jehu,” and reinsman. The name, “jehu” came from the biblical King Jehu in the Old Testament who was known for driving his chariot fast and furiously. The jehu’s profession required excellent horsemanship, driving skills and often demanded great courage traveling through hostile Indian country and the possibility of being threatened by highway robbers.

Many of the stage routes traveled over rugged roads, wheels sinking into deep sand or thick mud; other routes wound through mountains, the trails hugging the sides of steep and narrow cliffs. Stagecoaches averaged about 5 miles per hour, depending on the terrain. On some routes, the driver would have his own section, driven over and over, usually covering about 50 miles. A driver could make a good salary, sometimes as much as $125 a month, plus room and board. Average age for most drivers were under the age of 40.

The nickname, “whip,” is self-explanatory. Many stagecoach drivers considered their whips as badges of honor. They took pride in them, some handcrafted with silver layered over handles made of hickory.  The whips had buckskin lashes, usually 11 to 12 feet long. Unlike the way they were depicted in the movies, stagecoach drivers seldom used cracking of the whip. They were concerned the sharp sounds could not only startle their passengers but worse yet, spook their horses.

Obviously, most important were the two or three pairs of reins the driver held in his hands, depending on a four or six-horse team. Sensitive to the driver’s lead, the horses responded to the slightest movement of the reins and depended on the driver for continual guidance. Often shouting commands, the reinsman just as often soothed his horses with soft spoken words to encourage them along precarious mountain trails.

Among the most daring and legendary who rode the “box,” were Clark Foss, George Monroe, Henry “Hank” Monk, and Charlie Webster. Although they were mostly men drivers, there were also women, namely Charley Parkhurst, Mary Fields and Delia Haskett Rawson.  Tobacco-chewin’ Charley Parkhurst, who was well-known throughout California for being one of the best jehus in the stage business, to everyone’s shock, was discovered to be a biological woman when her body was prepared for burial.

Noted whip of the Gold Rush days. 
Drove a stage over Mt. Madonna in 
early days of valley. Last run
San Juan to Santa Cruz. Death in
cabin near the 7-mile house,
revealed "One Eyed Charlie",
a woman. The first woman to vote
in the U.S. Nov. 3, 1868

Erected 1955

Pajaro Valley Historical Ass'n.

Stagecoaches were not just for passengers. They often carried legal documents, large bank deposits, company payrolls as well as the U.S. Mail. When carrying valuable freight, for added protection, “shotgun messengers” rode beside the driver, armed with their trusty double-barreled shotguns.

Even though trains were being used more and more for transporting both passengers and cargo, they were still confined to their tracks.  It wasn’t until the early 1900’s when the introduction of the automobile actually led to the end of the stagecoach. 

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Ordinary People, Extraordinary Lives by Sarah J. McNeal

Charley Parkhurst

Charley Parkhurst was a stagecoach driver. So, needless to say, Charley spent long days traveling through thunderstorms and other miserable weather and battled bandits determined to rob the passengers while hauling upwards of 18 people packed into the wobbly old wooden box.

Charley handled the reins with expertise despite missing one eye. Allegedly, Charley managed to cross a raging river just before the bridge collapsed, was able to halt a runaway coach while being dragged through the brush, and once shot an outlaw who tried to hold up the stage. Eventually, the rough life Charley led caused a bad case of rheumatism to set in and forced Charley to give up driving and take up a life of ranching and lumbering. Pankhurst’s last days were spent alone in a cabin before dying of cancer in 1879. Saddened, friends came to prepare the body for the funeral, and then Charley’s ordinary existence took on a strange turn.

As the doctor started to undress Charley’s body, he discovered that one of the best stagecoach drivers in California had an unusual secret—Charley was a woman. Documents show that Charley registered for the 1868 election. So, One-Eyed Charley might have been the first woman to vote in California.

Tom Smith

People may imagine the Old West was an anything goes place when it came to guns, but towns like Abilene, Kansas actually had very strict rules when it came to firearms. One of the man who enforced these laws was Marshal Tom Smith. Legend has it Tom was involved in the accidental death of a teen and turned in his badge and headed west. During his travels, Smith cleaned up towns like Kit Carson, Colorado and Bear River City, Wyoming, but it was when he showed up in Abilene that he really came to fame.

The town was full of disorderly Texas cowboys who enjoyed games like “Harass the Citizen” and “Burn Down the Jail.” Fed up with these unruly cattle-punching criminals, Abilene’s officials hired Smith and turned him loose on the cowpokes.

Riding out on his horse Silverheels, Smith enforced the town’s most unpopular law: No guns inside city limits. As one might imagine, many of the cowboys grew irritated with this regulation, and on two separate occasions, the obnoxious cowboys challenged Marshal Smith to take their pistols. Smith happily obliged them. When pistol-packing thugs got tough, Smith just knocked them out cold.

Despite his extraordinary fighting skills, Smith couldn’t manuver his way out of every situation. On November 2, 1870, he armed himself and went after the wanted murderer Andrew McConnell. When he showed up at McConnell’s house, the suspect shot the marshal in the chest. As Smith fired back, another outlaw named Moses Miles rushed Smith and almost completely decapitated him with an axe.

The killers were caught and sent to prison. Smith was buried in the local cemetery, leaving the town without a lawman—until a man named Wild Bill Hickok rode into town.

Orrin Porter Rockwell

Orrin Porter earned the name of the “Destroying Angel” because, it was said, he murdered 100 men. The body count was probably lower, but still, Orrin certainly knew how to fill a few graves. Born in Massachusetts, Rockwell traveled to Missouri where he became one of the first Mormon converts and founder Joseph Smith’s personal bodyguard. Rockwell was what you might call a “prayer warrior,” and when Gov. Lilburn Boggs ordered all Mormons out of Missouri, Rockwell allegedly tried to show him the light—the one at the end of the tunnel. Now I just want to say this reminds me of “the Swede” in the TV series “Hell On Wheels.” Just sayin’…

Anyway, Rockwell was jailed for his attempted “conversion” of Governor Boggs, but was released after a year behind bars. As soon as his boots hit the ground on the outside of that jail, he quickly made his way to Nauvoo, Illinois, where things took a Biblical turn. Like a scene taken from the Old Testament, Joseph Smith happy to see Rockwell again, gave him a special blessing. Smith declared no one could harm the gunman so long as he never cut his hair. Just like Samson, this Latter-day Saint disobeyed his boss—just once, supposedly to fashion his long hair into a wig for a woman who’d lost her hair.

Even though Rockwell may have had a soft side, but he wasn’t afraid to kill in the name of the Lord. After Smith’s arrest and assassination in 1844, Rockwell took revenge on Frank Worrell, the militiaman who was supposed to guard the prophet. Later, when Brigham Young moved the church to Salt Lake City, Rockwell was appointed the town’s marshal.

In 1857, President James Buchannan tried to forcibly replace Young as Utah’s governor with a non-Mormon. Infuriated, American Moses ordered Rockwell to torment incoming troops. Rockwell, obedient to the orders given, killed two men who were trying to supply them. It took 20 years before the gunman Rockwell was charged, but by then, it was of no consequence. The Destroying Angel had died an old man in his bed.

Sarah J. McNeal is a multi-published author of several genres including time travel, paranormal, western and historical fiction. She is a retired ER and Critical Care nurse who lives in North Carolina with her four-legged children, Lily, the Golden Retriever and Liberty, the cat. Besides her devotion to writing, she also has a great love of music and plays several instruments including violin, bagpipes, guitar and harmonica. Her books and short stories may be found at Prairie Rose Publications and its imprints Painted Pony Books, and Fire Star Press. Some of her fantasy and paranormal books may also be found at Publishing by Rebecca Vickery and Victory Tales Press. She welcomes you to her website and social media:

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