GALVESTON'S GREAT HURRICANE OF 1900 AND QUEEN OF THE WAVES

Why I’ve had storms on my mind, I don’t know. I suppose I can blame Carra Copelin and her book MATELYN AND THE TEXAS RANGER, which includes a hurricane. In addition, I have another friend who works for the Sisters of Charity, and the two influences collided. (Yes, pun intended.)

At the end of the 19th century, the city of Galveston, Texas, was a booming town with a population of 36,000 residents. Its position on the natural harbor of Galveston Bay along the Gulf of Mexico made it the center of trade and the biggest city in the state of Texas. Before the Hurricane of 1900, Galveston was considered to be a beautiful and prestigious city and was known as the "Ellis Island of the West" and the "Wall Street of the Southwest".

As Galveston entered the new millennium, it was one of the wealthiest cities per capita in the United States and appeared to be poised for greatness.

Galveston in the 1890s

And then one weekend in September in 1900, the same proximity to the sea that had made the community grow and prosper as a port city, changed Galveston Island forever. On Sept. 8, Galveston became the victim of a powerful hurricane of such destructive force that whole blocks of homes were completely swept away.

WORST NATURAL DISASTER IN NATION’S HISTORY

Striking Galveston on Sept. 8, 1900, the Great Storm is considered the worst natural disaster in the nation's history. In Galveston on the rain-darkened and gusty morning of Saturday, September 8, 1900, newspaper readers saw, on page three of the local Galveston Daily News, an early-morning account of a tropical hurricane prowling the Gulf of Mexico. 

On the previous day Galveston had been placed under a storm warning by the central office of the Weather Bureau (now the National Weather Service) in Washington, D.C. A one-column headline announced, "Storm in the Gulf." Under that, a small subhead proclaimed, "Great Damage Reported on Mississippi and Louisiana Coasts-Wires Down-Details Meagre." The story, only one paragraph long, had been sent out of New Orleans at 12:45 A.M. that same day, but it added nothing to the information presented in the headlines. Additional details were unavailable "owing to the prostration of the wires."

Beginning early on the morning of September 8, the winds began coming in strongly from the north. Despite the opposing winds, the tides of the southern gulf waters also rose, sending large crashing waves upon the beach front. During the afternoon the winds and rain continued to increase. The tides of the gulf rose higher and higher with fierce waves crashing on the beach, sending flood waters into the residential areas.

More than 6,000 (some estimates say as many as 8,000 to 12,000) men, women and children lost their lives. Among the dead were 10 sisters and 90 children from the St. Mary's Orphans Asylum, operated by the Sisters of Charity. The sisters also operated St. Mary's Infirmary in Galveston. It was the first Catholic hospital in the state, established in 1867.

SISTERS OF CHARITY AND ST. MARY’S ORPHANS ASYLUM

The sisters were called to Galveston by Catholic Bishop Claude M. Dubuis in 1866 to care for the many sick and infirm in what was the major port of entry for Texas. They were also charged with caring for orphaned children, most of whom had lost parents during yellow fever epidemics prevalent in coastal areas of the time.

At first the Sisters of Charity opened an orphanage within the hospital, but later moved it three miles to the west on beach-front property on the former estate of Captain Farnifalia Green at what is now 69th and Seawall Boulevard. The location seemed ideal as it was far from town and the threat of yellow fever.

St. Mary's Orphans Asylum

Sister Elizabeth Ryan, one of 10 sisters at St. Mary's Orphanage, had come into town that morning to collect food. Despite pleas from Mother Gabriel, the assistant superior at St. Mary's Infirmary, for her to stay at the hospital until the storm passed, Sister Elizabeth said she had to return to the orphanage. Sister Elizabeth had the provisions in the wagon and said if she did not return, the children would have no supper.

Warning: Get your hankies ready now.

St. Mary's Orphans Asylum circa 1899

St. Mary's Orphanage consisted of two large two-story dormitories just off the beach behind a row of tall sand dunes that were supported by salt cedar trees. The buildings had balconies facing the gulf. According to one of the boys at the orphanage, the rising tides began eroding the sand dunes "as though they were made of flour." Soon the waters of the gulf reached the dormitories.

The Sisters at the orphanage brought all of the children into the girls' dormitory because it was the newer and stronger of the two. In the first floor chapel, they tried to calm the children by having them sing the old French hymn "Queen of the Waves." The waters continued to rise.

Sister Vincent Cottier and two children

Taking the children to the second story of the dormitory, the Sisters had Henry Esquior, a worker, collect clothesline rope. Again they had the boys and girls sing "Queen of the Waves." One of the boys later said that the children were very frightened and the Sisters were very brave.

By 6 p.m. the wind was gusting past 100 miles per hour and the waters of the gulf and bay had met, completely flooding the city. Residents climbed to the second stories, attics and even roofs of their homes. Flying debris struck many who dared venture outside their homes.

Around 7:30 p.m. the main tidal surge struck the south shore. Houses along the beach front were lifted from their foundations and sent like battering rams into other houses. Houses fell upon houses.

Four-block area of town after storm

At St. Mary's Infirmary the flood waters filled the first floor. From the second story balcony, the sisters pulled refugees in as they floated by and brought them into the over-crowded hospital. Almost every window in the facility was broken out, sending the wind and rain whipping through the building.

At the orphanage, the children and sisters heard the crash of the boys’ dormitory as it collapsed and was carried away by the flood waters. The sisters cut the clothesline rope into sections and used it to tie the children to the cinctures which they wore around their waists. Each Sister tied to herself between six to eight children. Some of the older children climbed onto the roof of the orphanage.

One of the sisters with children nearby

Eventually the dormitory building that had been the sanctuary for the children and sisters was lifted from its foundation. The bottom fell out and the roof came crashing down, trapping those inside.

Only three boys from the orphanage survived: William Murney, Frank Madera and Albert Campbell. Miraculously all three ended up together in a tree in the water. After floating for more than a day, they were eventually able to make their way into town where they told the sisters what had happened at the orphanage.

One of the boys remembered a sister tightly holding two small children in her arms, promising not to let go. The sisters were buried wherever they were found, with the children still attached to them. Two of the sisters were found together across the bay on the Mainland. One of them was tightly holding two small children in her arms. Even in death she had kept her promise not to let go.

Storm's damage downtown

Each year on September 8^th, the members of the Congregation of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word sing "Queen of the Waves." The song provides the sisters and all those who co-minister with them an opportunity to pause and remember all who lost their lives in a devastating hurricane almost a century ago.

DEATH AND DESTRUCTION

The death and destruction in Galveston was unbelievable. Thousands were dead and their bodies were littered throughout the city. It would be months before some would be uncovered. A complete list of the dead was never made. Stench from the corpses was detectable for miles. The bodies were piled on barges and towed out for burial at sea, but most washed back up on shores. Funeral pyres were started and burned for days.

Estimates are that the winds reached 150 mph or maybe even 200. The tidal surge has been estimated at from 15 to 20 feet. Whole blocks of homes had been completely destroyed, leaving little more than a brick or two. In all more than 3,600 homes had been destroyed.

Only beach house for miles

A great wall of debris wrapped itself around St. Mary's Infirmary on the eastern end of the city and then zigzagged through the city to the beach. At places the wall was two stories tall. Inside this great wall were destroyed houses, pieces of furniture, pots, pans, cats, dogs and people.

At St. Mary's Infirmary, there was no food or water. While the main hospital building was still standing, the adjacent structures, had been destroyed. The hospital was packed with those who were injured and those who had nowhere else to go.

Two of the Sisters walked about the area until they found crackers and cookies that had been soaked in the water. They brought them back to the hospital. Over a fire they built in the street, they dried the food and served it to those in need at the infirmary.

One year later, the Sisters opened a new orphanage.

Searching debris

On Sept. 8, 1994, a Texas Historical Marker was placed at 69th Street and Seawall Boulevard, marking the site of the former orphanage. The descendants of two of the survivors, Will Murny and Frank Madera, returned to participate in the marker dedication. As part of the ceremony, "Queen of the Waves" was again sung at the same time and place as it was during the Great 1900 Storm. And, as it continues to be each Sept. 8 by the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word.

ENGINEERING MARVEL

To prevent future storms from causing destruction like that of the 1900 hurricane, many improvements to the island were made. The first 3 miles of the Galveston Seawall, 17-foot high, were built beginning in 1902 under the direction of Henry Martyn Robert. An all-weather bridge was constructed to the mainland to replace the ones destroyed in the storm.

The most dramatic effort to protect the city was its raising. Dredged sand was used to raise the city of Galveston by as much as 17 feet above its previous elevation. Over 2,100 buildings were raised in the process, including the 3,000-ton St. Patrick's Church. The seawall and raising of the island were jointly named a National Historical Civil Engineering Landmark by the American Society of Civil Engineers in 2001.

In 1915, a storm similar in strength and track to the 1900 hurricane struck Galveston. The 1915 storm brought a 12-ft storm surge which tested the new seawall. Although 53 people on Galveston Island lost their lives in the 1915 storm, this was a great reduction from the thousands who died in 1900.

If this works, this is a recording of "Queen of the Waves"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tzbiq-S8ZDE

Sources: 

Wikipedia

https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/ydg02

http://www.eyewitnesstohistory.com/galveston.htm

http://www.1900storm.com/orphanage.html (Linda Macdonald, Director of Communications, Congregation of the Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word in Houston)

THE FIRST DUDE RANCH IN THE U.S.

By Guest, Kate Wyland

When my husband and I won a dude ranch vacation from the Brenda Novak Diabetes Auction we had no idea we would be staying at the oldest dude ranch in the US. And I never expected our trip would be the inspiration for my novel WYOMING ESCAPE.

The Eaton Brothers

Eaton Ranch in Wolf, Wyoming, is considered the original Western dude ranch. In 1879, the Eaton Brothers, Howard, Alden and Willis, moved from Pittsburgh to a cattle ranch near Medora, North Dakota. Soon many of their friends discovered the peace and beauty of their new home, came to visit, and ended up staying for long periods. One visitor finally suggested the brothers charge room and board so the guests could linger without guilt. The Eatons hoped that would discourage visitors, but just the opposite happened. They inadvertently created a new, profitable side business.

In 1904, looking for more scenic riding for their guests, the brothers moved their enterprise to northeastern Wyoming at the foot of the Big Horn Mountains. A few miles outside Sheridan, the 7000 acre ranch boasted wonderful rolling hills to ride and hike, wooded streams to fish in, and challenging trails into the mountains. While their main focus remained cattle, the success of their dude operation attracted the attention of other ranchers. Soon dude ranches began springing up all over the West.

“Roughing It With Comfort” was the theme from the earliest days as is demonstrated by this 1915 booklet advertising the ranch.

“ROUGHING IT WITH COMFORT” has been well applied to the conditions to be found at Eatons' Ranch in Wyoming; …let no one mistake the meaning of this message or read into it any thought of ultrafashionable hotel life set amidst the western hills and plains.

Eatons' Ranch is a real western ranch, open to visitors for a short period each year…

The Wyoming Ranch

In addition to riding, hiking and fishing, the ranch offered a variety of other activities, including tennis and baseball, as well as typical ranch work. It also was especially cognizant of the ladies and provided for their comfort. Their primary focus was (and still is) family activities. The kids had a great time and many stayed by themselves, supervised by the Eatons.

Howard Eaton also led multi-week horseback camping trips through Yellowstone and Glacier Parks and to the Custer Battlefield and Crow Indian Reservation. These expeditions for “lovers of vigorous outdoor life” featured camping in teepee shaped tents and covered twelve to twenty miles per day.

The charges in 1915 are fun to see. Visitors could stay a week with full riding privileges for only $30. If they wanted a tent, it was $25. The trips to Yellowstone and Glacier Point cost $125-$150.

Kate, a friend, and Kate's husband at Eaton Ranch

One hundred thirty-four years later, the Eaton family still welcomes guests to its ranch and, as in the early days, most people return year after year for a truly unique experience. Our week-long stay there was so delightful that I wanted keep its memory alive, so I used it as the inspiration for WYOMING ESCAPE. None of the characters or events is based on reality, but some of the scenery and attitudes are. If you’d like more information about the modern day Eaton Ranch go to:  http://eatonsranch.com/

If you’d like to see my take on a dude ranch, here’s an excerpt from WYOMING ESCAPE.

One dead body is frightening enough, but a second one, plus a dirty cop, sends Mikela Richards fleeing for her life. She finds a safe hiding place on a Wyoming Dude ranch, where she tries to discover if the murders are connected to the mysterious computer memory stick she found in her car. But her fragile feeling of safety is disturbed by a compelling Marine, home on leave.

Back from Afghanistan to heal both physically and emotionally, Shawn Saunders recognizes the type of fear in Mikela's eyes---it's one of the things he's come home to forget. In spite of their reservations, neither can resist the pull of their attraction.

Buy links: Amazon, Barnes&Noble, Apple, Smashwords

Mikela's eyes widened as they continued down the two-lane road heading toward a range of tall, tree-covered mountains. Where the heck were they going? She'd assumed the ranch was close to town. She hadn't counted on being stranded in the middle of nowhere.

She had a hard time concentrating on what the older woman was telling her, particularly after Harry turned onto a wide dirt road that paralleled the mountains. No structures of any kind intruded here, only fences with acres of green, open land on either side. Occasional rock formations and groups of trees were the tallest things in the area. It had been one thing to enjoy the scenery from the safety of the bus. It was quite another to contemplate living in all that nothingness.

She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. No wonder the previous cook had gotten drunk. How could anyone live in such an isolated place? And how safe would she be?

Harry finally slowed and pulled through a large gateway made of logs. A wrought iron sign on top proclaimed Triple H Ranch.

“Almost home now. Only two miles to the guest complex. What do you think?”

The dirt driveway paralleled a wooded stream on the right, while open, hilly pastures stretched on the other side. Again rocky areas were sprinkled throughout the grassy fields. Mikela managed to get her tongue working.

“It's beautiful, but so far away from everything.”

“True we’re a ways out, but we’ve got family living on the ranch. My son, Jeff, and his crew live in the big house, fairly close to the dude quarters. I’ve a cabin near him and my sister-in-law has a place down the side road. So we’re not that isolated.”

Not isolated? Mikela almost snorted. She'd been around most of the world—Europe, Asia, Africa. The only place she'd ever seen as lonely as this part of Wyoming was Australia. Not that she'd traveled in the Outback—her mother had no interest in anything outside a city and her dad had been occupied with business meetings. But she had seen it as they flew over.

Apparently unaware of her new cook’s reaction, Harry waved towards the fields. “We're mainly a working cattle ranch, which Jeff runs. The dude stuff is secondary. We keep things simple—few organized activities, no schedules beyond meal times and when the horses are available. You can hike, fish and swim here or golf nearby. Mostly, our guests ride in the hills and kick back.”

Kate Wyland, Author

Kate Wyland is a life-long horse nut who started riding at three years old. While she rode Western as a child, she later became enthralled with Dressage and Quadrille, a drill team type of dressage competition. She also loves trail riding and has taken week-long rides in Ireland, Monument Valley and Wyoming, as well as horse camped in the mountains of California. Kate has three semi-retired horses and can’t imagine life without them. A few years ago, she exchanged her tech writing hat for a fiction writing Stetson. Suspense, romance, horses and sometimes the paranormal are the themes she likes to explore in her books. And she delights in sharing her love of animals and country living.

Website:  http://katewyland.com/
Blog:  http://katewyland.com/blog/

Eaton Ranch photos:  Library of Congress, Eatons’ ranch, Wolf, Wyoming .(1915)

MAY 10, 1889: WHEN EAST MET WEST

By Guest Lynn Hubbard

I have always had a fascination with trains. So it was quite easy to choose what aspect of the West to write about.

Locomotive engine

My mother’s family is from a coal town in Kentucky.  On one family trip, we headed to Kentucky to visit. I remember their houses being backed up to the train tracks. They would use the tracks like a road, and walk the tracks to town to buy groceries. Back then, the trains hauled coal, and they would collect the coal that fell onto the tracks to use for heat.

I was so jealous, even then I loved trains. The long, mournful call as the whistle blew. The chug, chug, chug from the powerful engine. And they are huge! It is hard to comprehend how back in the 1800’s they were able to transform iron and steel into a 100+ ton machine.

Ship routes to California,
before and after the Panama Canal

Before the age of trains, if one wanted to head West, there were few options. Goods were mainly transported from the east coast by ships. Ships had to travel down and around Cape Horn, the tip of South America. Talk about a detour! The Panama Canal, which would cut that trip in half, was conceived in 1881 but not completed until 1914.

Mid 1800s Wagon Train Heading West

There was, of course, the wagon trains. Wagon trains were popular from 1840-1860. The cross-county trip could take up to 6 months. If you made it! About 1 in 20 would perish along the way. Most died from sickness or injury, rather than from Indian attacks. (In the TV show, “Wagon Train” it took them 8 years. My mother watches it, and I always ask her if they've made it yet.)

Promonotory, Utah, May 10, 1889!

Progress. That’s what they called it. Until May 10, 1869 Promontory Utah, was a speck on the map. That was the day when the last spike was hammered into place, and it just so happened to be made out of gold. That spike would transform a nation and open up the west to everyone.

Trains made intercontinental travel much safer, more comfortable, and quicker. Daily passenger service was soon offered. First class passengers could ride express and make the trip in a week for about a hundred dollars. Third class tickets cost about forty bucks and bought you a spot on a wooden bench. Your trip would take a bit longer since you would probably be tethered to a freight car, which had to stop for express trains. Nonetheless, you would make it in ten days or so, which is still better than six months.

Comfort. George Pullman built the first sleeping car in 1862. These posh coaches had bunks which could be folded up during the day to save space. They had wonderful finery such as wallpaper, drapes, and private washrooms. Some even had libraries! Life was good, if you could afford it. Sadly, George Pullman is better known for the Pullman Strike in 1894. Railway workers across the country took part and refused to pull Pullman Cars. This affected US mail delivery, and President Grover Cleveland sent in troops to settle the ruckus.

Pullman cars improved comfort for travelers

I was able to take a train ride with my sons on Amtrak. Since the sleeper cars were costly, we rode in coach.  What better way to see America? We traveled from Atlanta to Washington, DC, and back again. It takes great skill and balance to walk along rows of seats. You get well acquainted with your neighbors as you clutch onto each other for balance. The experience was one we all will remember, and it gave me great insight for my books.

Since train travel was such a vital part of the west, how could I write a book without it? My books are set in the 1880’s well after the merger.

In RUN INTO THE WIND, Sabrina takes a train west as she runs from her past. And into Brock’s arms. (Eventually)

One of my favorite train scenes is from CHASE THE MOON.  When Amelia and Chase first meet.  I would like to share an excerpt:

From CHASE THE MOON by Lynn Hubbard
It was nearly dusk. Amelia figured she had better use the loo before it got any darker. She climbed to her feet and held onto the backs of the chairs to steady herself on the ever moving floor. She clumsily made her way up the long aisle only to find she had to go into the next forward car.
She took a second to fumble with the lock on the door and slide it open. The blast of wind and dust in her face pulled loose most of her hair from its pins. So much for getting gussied up for travel she grumbled.
Squinting her eyes, she precariously crossed the moving ground below to enter the next train. Making her way to the front she was dismayed to find a long line and a horrible stench coming from somewhere up ahead.
The conductor spotting the well-dressed young woman hurried back to her. Amelia covered her nose as he approached.
“May I help you madam?”
“Um I need to use the loo.”
“Are you ill?”
“No why?”
“I’m a bit embarrassed, but some of the chicken that was served was spoiled and there is much sickness. I would not suggest using this privy for a woman of your stature.”
“Is there another?” She asked hopefully.
He leaned close and spoke into her ear so she could hear him above the noise of the train. “The last car is a private one. I‘m sure they would be willing to share theirs with a lady of your quality.”
Amelia smirked at that, she was half insulted and flattered. Another gust of foul odor filled the car as the door opened and released a rather white faced man and a green faced one took his place.
Amelia nodded her thanks and made her way back to her own car. She passed her seat and again went outside to cross over to the last car. She wondered what kind of people could afford their own private compartment. Well she would soon find out she rationed.
By the time she arrived her hair was completely lose and billowing around her in the wind and she really, really had to use the bathroom. The outer door was locked so she had to hold onto the railing as the wind threatened to rip her hair from the roots and knocked with her other hand.
When knocking didn’t work she resorted to pounding.

***

Chase was somewhere between consciousness and sleep. His eyes drifted shut as he finally relaxed to the swaying sensation of the train. After all the travel and bustling about it was nice to finally unwind.
His peace was interrupted by a droning sound. The resonance could be heard over and over again above the clank of the wheels. Ever alert, he slowly lifted an eyelid.
He gazed around the car to see if anyone else had heard the odd noises coming from the doorway. They had not.
Aggravated not a soul seemed to notice the eerie sounds he climbed sleepily to his feet and opened up the inner door.
Grabbing the swaying wall for support he stepped up to the outer door.
He was startled to find a white, ghastly face peering in through the small square window. An eerie howl arose from its mouth and a chill stole through him. The whipping hair reminded him of a childhood legend his mother used to tell him about: It was a banshee. Had he angered the Gods somehow?
An amazingly human like hand smacked the glass in front of him and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes. Taking a brave step forward he unlatched the door and the beast was upon him.
He instinctively grabbed it and wrestled it to the ground as his family scrabbled over to see the disturbance.
“Are you insane?” It screeched in an unearthly voice. Chase felt a sudden pain in his ear as his mother quickly summed up the situation and twisted. With a yowl, he was forced off the creature so that his ear would remain intact. He watched in slow motion as Thomas and Jaelyn hurried over to help it up to its feet.
“I am so sorry, Miss. My brother is a dimwit. Are you okay?” Jaelyn asked the sputtering girl who was still trying to claw her way to Chase’s face.
Taking a deep breath to try and force down her anger. Amelia closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down. She tried to smooth out her petty coats and windblown hair.
Chase watched the scene from behind his mother. Before his eyes she seemed to transform from a windswept creature into a beautiful young woman. Chase sat and stared in bewilderment.
“Just fine thank you. I am very sorry to intrude upon your family. The conductor suggested I might be able to use your privy? The one nearest to my car is unserviceable.” She blushed trying to explain her situation.
“Oh, of course!” Jaelyn said elbowing the still dazed Chase out of the aisle so she could show their guest to the back.
“What is wrong with you?” Anna badgered her son as he slumped into a corner like a beat down dog.
“I don’t know, I was trying to sleep. I thought she was a banshee.” He mumbled, the words sounding ridiculous even to his own ears.
“A banshee?” Anna asked with a scowl.
“You know like the legends.”
“Of course I know the legends; apparently you’ve been running around in the woods for way too long. That poor woman.”
“Poor woman? She almost ripped my eyes out!”
“Was that before or after you manhandled her to the ground?” his father, Jonathan, asked with an amused chuckle.

To find out more about my books please visit
My website: www.lynnhubbard.com

Facebook http://www.facebook.com/lynnhubbardbooks
Twitter http://twitter.com/#!/LynnHubbardBook

Lynn Hubbard, Author

Thank you for inviting me!

The "Message Board" of the American West

The high desert of western New Mexico isn't the kind of place you would expect to come across an oasis...or what is known today as "sky island"...or, for that matter, a veritable message board for the American West. Yet if you happen to be traveling there and come across the El Morro National Monument, you would find all of the above.
Soft, flat El Morro Mesa has been a landmark for centuries. Thousands of years before people began carving their names in El Morro Mesa, Paleo and Archaic hunters gathered there, probably because even then it was a desert oasis. The ruins of a 13th century pueblo can still be found on top of the mesa and are known as the village of Atsinna. The people who lived there built the pueblos on top of the hard-to-reach mesa as a defensible position during a period of drought and famine.

The runoff from the mesa feeds the spring and gives it constant, reliable flow. It was a camping ground for Anasazi/Zuni traders, Spanish Conquistadors, the U.S. Army, and American pioneers. In fact, all of the above have carved their names into Inscription Rock at El Morro Mesa. The first translatable and dated message dates back to the 17th century when Adelantado Don Juan de Onate carved the following...

"Passed by here, the Adelantado Don Juan de Onate, from the discovery of the Sea of the South, the 16th day of April, 1605."

In the inscriptions of El Morro Mesa, history is written in many ways. For example, though they eventually lost control of New Mexico to the Mexicans (who in turn lost the colony to the United States), the Spanish ruled there for two centuries before the Pueblo Rebellion of 1680. They then reigned again for twelve years, after a victory against the Pueblo during which another a Spanish general carved the following....

"Here was the General Don Diego de Vargas, who conquered for our Holy Faith and for the Royal Crown all of New Mexico at his own expense, year of 1692."

The first American inscription at El Morro Mesa appeared in 1849 and was made by "Lt. Simpson" of the U.S. Army. In 1906, the state of New Mexico decided to recognize El Morro Mesa and Inscription Rock's historical value by incorporating both into El Morro National Monument. For the same reason, carvings are no longer permitted at Inscription Rock, but it remains a favorite camping spot for many modern explorers of the American West who don't mind going a bit off the beaten track to see a bit of history carved into desert stone.

Amber Leigh Williams

"Williams has brought the romantic back to romance!" ~ LASR

www.amberleighwilliams.com

MY FAVORITE OUTLAW by ELIZABETH LANE



Elizabeth Lane, Author


Harlequin Historical author, Elizabeth Lane is a guest today at Sweethearts of the West. Elizabeth is graciously donating a copy of her March 2011 release, THE WIDOWED BRIDE, to one lucky person who leaves a comment on her post. Thank you Elizabeth!


           MY FAVORITE OUTLAW


What can you say about a guy who was played by Paul Newman in one of the best Westerns ever filmed? The real Butch Cassidy wasn’t as cute as Paul (who is?), but he had his own charms. What’s more, to this writer, Butch is practically a hometown boy!

Robert Redfore as
the Sundance Kid
and Paul Newman
as Butch Cassidy

Butch was born Robert Leroy Parker in 1866, in Beaver, Utah, the first of thirteen children. In 1879 the family moved over the mountain to Circleville, Utah. I never knew Butch (no, I’m not that old), but I grew up an hour from Circleville. My sister married a Circleville boy, and I went to school with descendants of Butch’s younger siblings. Lots of Parkers down that way.



Butch Cassidy

 Young Roy, as he was called, cut loose early and worked odd jobs. He earned the name Butch from the time he worked as a butcher. Cassidy was the name of a shady rancher who befriended him as a youth. By 1884, Butch was rustling cattle outside Parowan, Utah. From there he drifted to Telluride, Colorado where he pulled his first major crime, the robbery of the San Miguel Valley Bank. He and three cowboys got away with $20,000. They escaped along the Outlaw Trail, a meandering path that ran from Mexico to Montana.

After Telluride, Butch’s reputation grew. He liked to think of himself as a kind of Robin Hood, fighting for settlers’ rights against the railroads and cattle barons. Of course, he was really just a criminal. But what he did, he did with flair. He gathered a band of outlaw cowboys (including Harry Longbaugh, known as the Sundance Kid) and established a hideout at the Hole-In-The-Wall, in central Wyoming. The gang became known as the Wild Bunch.

Etta Place

By 1896 the Wild Bunch was robbing trains and banks all over the West. Butch was a clever strategist. His gang would strike fast and flee over a network of hidden trails. They became bold and confident, even sprucing up to pose for the famous photograph that helped lawmen identify them. But their glory days couldn’t last forever. By 1900, they were on the run. In 1902 the Wild Bunch disbanded.

Butch, Sundance, and Sundance’s girlfriend Etta Place (who was no schoolmarm) fled to Europe, then to Argentina where they bought a ranch. In 1908 the famous shootout, with Butch and Sundance supposedly gunned down by Bolivian troops, took place.

Harlequin Historical, March 2011

Now, here’s where the story gets interesting. According to Butch’s last surviving sister, Lula Parker Betenson, her brother showed up to visit the family sixteen years later. Current research suggests that Butch faked his death, sailed to Europe and got a facelift and returned to the U.S. where he married and went into business. He died of cancer in 1937. Evidence to support this includes a detailed manuscript about Cassidy’s life, which he appears to have written himself.

Nobody can call Butch a good man. But you have to admit he was entertaining. Do you have a favorite bad guy, historic or fictional? Do you find outlaw heroes appealing?

Badlands Of South Dakota

Whenever I read a historical romance which is set in the Old West I'm always fascinated by the historical tidbits of information the author includes in the story setting and her characters. A long time ago after visiting a very special place in America, I decided I wanted to write a historical romance revolving around that special place. I started the book but never finished it. Maybe someday I'll return to that story before the memories of the Badlands fade from my mind. If you ever have the chance to visit the Black Hills of South Dakota you'll understand why I believe the area would make a fantastic setting for a historical romance. I feel fortunate I was able to visit Custer State Park, Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse monument as well as many off-the-road tourist attractions in the area.

There's nothing like having to stop for a herd of buffalo, thundering across the road in front of your car to imagine Indians on horseback chasing the majestic animals. Until the trip to Custer State Park I had only viewed buffalo up close in zoos. Seeing them in the wild, twenty feet from your car window gives you a sense of the awe these animals inspired in Indians and buffalo hunters.



The drive to Mount Rushmore was a little harrowing for us—we had to pull off the road when a sudden hail storm hit. Afterward the sun came out and we followed the rainbow up to the monument.


During a prospecting expedition in 1885, Mount Rushmore was named after Charles E. Rushmore, a New York lawyer. Originally the mountain was known to the Lakota Sioux as Six Grandfathers. As Six Grandfathers, the mountain was part of the route that Lakota leader Black Elk took in a spiritual journey that culminated at Harney Peak. From 1876 to 1877, the United States asserted control over the area, a claim that is disputed on the basis of the 1868 Treaty of Fort Laramie. Among white American settlers, the peak was known as Cougar Mountain, Sugarloaf Mountain, Slaughterhouse Mountain, and Keystone Cliffs.

South Dakota historian Doane Robinson is credited with conceiving the idea of carving the likenesses of famous people into the Black Hills of South Dakota in order to promote tourism in the region. Sculptor Gutzon Borglum decided the likenesses of four presidents would be carved into the mountain. Borglum's choice of presidents is not without controversy. Some allege he chose Washington, Lincoln, Jefferson and Roosevelt because the four men ruled during the time of the acquisition of Native American lands. Gutzon Borglum was a white supremacist and active member of the Ku Klux Klan. After securing federal funding, construction on the memorial began in 1927, and the presidents' faces were completed between 1934 and 1939.

Not everyone approved of the decision to carve four American presidents on a mountain that held spiritual significance for the Lakota tribe. In response, a memorial to Crazy Horse is being carved in the Black Hills 17 miles away from Mount Rushmore. I was lucky enough to see this monument up close. Once completed the Crazy Horse Memorial will be the largest outdoor sculpture in the world. Work began in 1948 by sculptor Korczak Ziolkowski. Though the sculptor died in 1982, his wife and family continue the work with the Crazy Horse memorial Foundation.





Crazy Horse was born on the Republican River around 1845 and was killed at Fort Robinson, Nebraska in 1877, barely living thirty-three years. Below is a photo claimed to be of Crazy Horse but historians argue that the few photos floating around of the great warrior are not him because Crazy Horse refused to allow his photograph to be taken.



Anyone else care to share a favorite place that's found its way into a book, poem, song, or short story you've written?

Marin Thomas
Harlequin American Romance
Roughneck Cowboy Feb 2011
Rodeo Daddy April 2011
The Bull Rider's Secret July 2011
www.marinthomas.com