Saturday, June 16, 2018

Thomas Eakins - realist painter of the late 19th century by Kaye Spencer #sweetheartsofthewest #OldWestHistory #OldWestArt

When I think of artists whose paintings and sculptures captured the essence of the American West, the names that come readily to mind are:

Charles Russell (1864-1926) - His dramatic representations usually show men on horseback. He also sculpted.
'Bronc to Breakfast'

George Catlin (1796-1872) - His work was predominantly concerned with the Native Americans.
'Tipis'

Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902) -  His paintings leaned toward sweeping, romantic landscapes of the Old West.
'Prong-horned Antelope'

Thomas Moran (1837-1926) - His paintings focused on western landscapes like Albert Bierdstadt’s.
'Green River, Wyoming'

Frederick Remington (1861-1909) - His artistic talents leaned toward paintings and sculptures involving cavalry officers, Native Americans, and horses. He provided illustrations of the American West for magazines.
'Fight for the Waterhole'

To this list of extraordinary artists, I would add the Philadelphia native, Thomas Eakins (1844-1909).

'Thomas Eakins self-portrait'

His works, while not strictly focused on the west,
'Home Ranch'

'Cowboys in the Badlands'

are a more well-rounded study of the human condition of the time, albeit, the ‘eastern’ time.

'The Courtship'
'The Artist's Wife and his Setter Dog'
James Thomas Flexner - writer and 20th century scholar, biographer, researcher, art aficionado - said of Thomas Eakins, “His gift was to catch people at the moment when they lapsed into themselves.”1

Life in the American east and in Europe influenced the happenings in the west. The fashions, medicine and medical milestones, transportation, sports, leisure, and the day-to-day living “back east” had eventual impacts on life out west, and Thomas Eakins’ paintings show us those connections. For me, the ‘life’ he painted and preserved on canvas and his photography tell a broader story of what real life was like back then.


'Four-in-Hand - May Morning in the Park'
Eakins was a realist painter, photographer, photographer, sculptor, and fine arts educator. Other than trips abroad, he lived his life in his home town of Philadelphia, and the subjects of his art were the people around him. Eakins was a ‘colorful’ character for all of his 71 years, and he possessed a life-long passion for the human body as the ultimate art form. This information from Wikipedia sums up his work and his philosophy as a teacher:

He painted several hundred portraits, usually of friends, family members, or prominent people in the arts, sciences, medicine, and clergy. Taken en masse, the portraits offer an overview of the intellectual life of Philadelphia in the late 19th and early 20th centuries; individually, they are incisive depictions of thinking persons.

He believed that women should "assume professional privileges" as would men. Life classes and dissection were segregated but women had access to male models (who were nude but for loincloths).
Controversy shaped much of his career as a teacher and as an artist. He insisted on teaching men and women "the same", used nude male models in female classes and vice versa…

'The Agnew Clinic'

I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to visit the Philadelphia Museum of Art in 2008 and view the Thomas Eakins exhibit. (yes, THAT museum with the “Rocky” stairs) So for fun, here’s a picture of me and Rocky.


For more information about Thomas Eakins, I would direct you to the website devoted to his life and works — HERE — and to this book, The Revenge of Thomas Eakins by Sidney D. Kirkpatrick.



Until next time,

Kaye Spencer


Website/Blog- https://www.kayespencer.com
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YouTube Channel - https://www.youtube.com/c/kayespencer0203

Images and Reference:
The images included in this post are in the Public Domain and can be found through the Google Art Project, which is an “online platform through which the public can access high-resolution images of artworks housed in the initiative's partner museums.” Some images are mine that I took when I visited  the Philadelphia Museum of Art in June 2008.

1. Kirkpatrick, Sidney D. “In Light and Shadow.” The Revenge of Thomas Eakins, Yale Univ. Press, 2006.

Thursday, June 14, 2018

Women in the Workforce


Information is from Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women_in_the_workforce

The 1870 US Census was the first count females in the workforce. It showed that not all women in the Victorian period were either idle or worked in sweat shops. They were found in a variety of occupations. Two-thirds of women were teachers. Others were in dress making, millinery, and tailoring. But, they were found in less gentile occupations such as iron and steel workers, miners, and etc.

"In the beginning of the 20th century women were regarded as the guardians of morality; they were seen as made finer than men and were expected to act as such...." The Civil War changed things and America was now educating women. In the United States World War I made space for women in the work force and World War II allowed for many jobs for women. Thousands of women joined the different branches of the military.
Working at the Woolrich Arsenal, London,
United Kingdom, 1917.














"The increase of women in the labor force gained momentum in the late 19th century." Women married and if they worked it was out of necessity. Most of these women were considered lower class.

After this point, the change took place in four phases.

First phase—late 19th century. Women workers were young and unmarried.

Second phase—married women begin to exit the work force. There was a greater demand for clerical positions. This phase, 1930-1950, has been called the Transition era. During this phase, women worked out of necessity.

Third phase—"Roots of Revolution"—1950 to late 1970s, women's expectations of future employment changed. They saw themselves going to college and possibly graduate school. Many women attended to find a husband.

Fourth phase—The Quiet Revolution—1970 and continues today. Women flooded colleges and graduate schools and entered professions of Medicine, Dentistry, and Business.

The big jump in the 1970s is believed to be due to the birth control pill. It was introduced in the 60s, but was not readily available until the 70s.

Lack of wage equality is still practiced today and is still one of the highest of any developed nation.

It took many years for women to be allowed into management positions. I'd like to share with you an excerpt from The Way Back, my time travel set in the 1930s oil fields of Texas. Amber Mathis, an investment banker in present time ends up in the 1930s and takes over her husbands New York bank while he's in the oil fields. I hope you enjoy it.

Excerpt:
“Mrs. Hathaway,”Mrs. Jonas’s voice sounded through the telephone, “Mr. Stiles is here with several gentlemen from banks on Wall Street. They’d like to speak with you.”Amber grinned, impressed with the older woman’s authoritative tone. “Are you available?”
“Show them to the conference room. I’ll be with them shortly.”Shortly, my ass. She’d let them wait thirty minutes or so. “Offer them a cup of coffee.”
Amber hung up and continued viewing the file on her desk. She shut the folder and leaned back in the massive leather chair. Thursday after her announcement in the boardroom, Mr. Stiles voiced his displeasure at not consulting him before making employee changes. After all, hiring and firing was his job. That’s what Mr. Hathaway paid him to do. She’d done her best to salve his wounded pride, but he’d have none of it. Perhaps she should have asked his advice but there hadn’t been time. Actually, she’d not wanted to consult Stiles because she knew he would object to a woman. She didn’t want the hassle of arguing with him.
She checked her appearance in the bathroom mirror. Her charcoal suit had a pencil thin, mid-calf skirt with a kick pleat in the back. The jacket sported a gored peplum, which emphasized her small waist. She reapplied the Coty red lipstick hating the taste. If she stayed in this time she’d be dead before they developed lipstick that felt creamy on the lips and didn’t taste so bad. Heck, it probably had lead in it.
Looking behind each hip, she tried to make sure the seams in her silk stockings were straight. The bathroom needed a full-length mirror. She smoothed her hands down and skirt and exited the room. Passing up the elevator, she took the stairs down to the second floor. A man’s heated voice could be heard through the door.
“What is Hathaway thinking to let a woman, especially his wife, handle the affairs of his bank?”
A snort and, “Hell if I know. From her picture in the paper, she’s quite a looker. Maybe he’s not thinking with his brain. Harharhar.”
A round of ribald laughter followed. She didn’t wait for them to finish, but waltzed through the door into the haze of cigar smoke.
“Gentlemen.”They stood, albeit it reluctantly.
“Mrs. Hathaway.”Mr. Stiles and two of her guests had the good grace to blush while the third, chin tucked towards his stocky chest stared belligerently. They had to know she’d heard their comments.
She advanced into the room and went immediately to open the windows. A cross breeze drifted through the room dissipating some of the smoke. In her opinion, cigars stunk like cow poop. She wrinkled her nose and all of the men but Mr. Stocky Body snuffed them out in the ashtrays.
Taking the seat at the head of the table, she waved her hand towards the other chairs. “Sit down gentlemen. I’m delighted you’ve come to meet me today and welcome me to the banking community.”
****
Amber coughed and struggled to not laugh out loud. Mr. Stocky Body choked on a mouthful of cigar smoke. David pounded him on the back, and then rushed to the sideboard for a glass of water. “Here, Mr. Stockman, maybe this will help.”Mr. Stockman? How appropriate. The name fit him perfectly.
Wheezing, gasping for air, Mr. Stockman took the glass of water with a shaking hand and raised it to his lips. After an experimental sip, he took several more but continued to wheeze. From experience at sucking something down the windpipe, Amber knew it would take a few minutes for him to recover.
“Mr. Stiles, while Mr. Stockman regains control, introduce me to the other gentlemen.”
He stood. “Directly to your right is Mr. John Knowles, President of First New York Charter Bank and next to him is Mr. Charles Worth, President of Manhattan Bank and Trust.”
Amber leaned forward in her chair and shook each man’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, gentlemen. That your banks survived the stock market disaster is indicative of your financial and intellectual prowess.”Not really, but stroking their egos a little wouldn’t hurt anything. Both men sat a little straighter in their chairs and smiled before glancing at Mr. Stockman to observe his reaction.
She turned to Mr. Stockman and offered her hand. “Can we get you anything, Mr. Stockman?”He wiped his big paw on his handkerchief and took her small one, squeezing a bit harder than necessary. She didn’t flinch.
“No, thank you, Mrs. Hathaway.”His coughing fit hadn’t softened his booming baritone. He cleared his throat. “We’re here to help you with business matters while your husband is out of the state.”
“That’s kind of you, but I’m quite able to manage on my own.”
“Now, my dear, your announcement of last week is proof you are not. A woman doesn’t have the business acumen or the toughness necessary to manage a bank. Why, Mr. Stiles here is bewildered by your promotions and the fact that you didn’t consult him is another indication of your needing our help.”He waved his now unlit cigar. “We’ll help you reverse those untimely decisions and set things right.”
Amber couldn’t believe the audacity of the big man. Well, of him and his cohorts. She tried to tamp down her anger. They weren’t insulting her personally, but the entire female race, a common occurrence in this time period when it came to women in business. Elbows against her waist, hands clasped, she looked at each man in turn, ending with Mr. Stockman.
“That’s very considerate of you, but not necessary.”
Mr. Stiles started to speak, but she raised a finger and glared. He shut up.
“Mr. Stockman, first of all, I’m not your or anyone’s dear.”The big man’s mouth fell open. She cocked an eyebrow and smiled. “Except Mr. Hathaway’s, of course. Secondly, though you gentlemen have a number of years on me, I’m just as qualified as you are—maybe more so. I have an MBA from Harvard and have worked as an investment banker for years.”
Stockman snorted. “I seriously doubt that. Women aren’t accepted into Harvard’s MBA program.”
Oops, I should’ve kept my mouth shut on that little boast. Women weren’t allowed into the MBA program until 1959.
“Believe what you will, but I’m as qualified as you are. Wellman knows it and trusts me with this bank and to handle his investments. As a matter of fact, you’d be wise to allow me to help you select new venture possibilities for your banks.”
“Now, see here, young woman. You’d do well to show some respect.”Ah, Mr. Worth speaks.
Mr. Knowles added, “That’s right, Mrs. Hathaway. We came here to help, not to be insulted.”
Teeth clamped on his cigar, Mr. Stockman grinned. He removed the stogie and muttered, “Well said, gentlemen.”
“Isn’t that what you’ve done to me, been disrespectful?”
“Why no, my dear…er, ah,Mrs. Hathaway, we came here with the best intentions.”Mr. Stockman placed the cigar in the ashtray and folded his hands on the tabletop. “You’ve made a mistake in promoting a woman to a management position. The promotion must be rescinded. It sends the wrong message about the banking industry.”
“I tried to tell you, Mrs. Hathaway. Women aren’t up to high-pressure jobs. Hathaway Bank is unusual in that it hires more women than is standard, but only as secretaries and bookkeepers.”Yes, Amber knew the statistics. After World War One—or The Great War, as people in this age would call it—women moved into secretarial and sales jobs in department stores, “lace collar”jobs. Prior to that time they worked as domestics. The only professional jobs they held were in nursing and teaching. At least women were no longer barred from jobs after marriage.
“Yes, Mr. Stiles, I’m aware of that. However, Mrs. Dyers has a college education, she knows the business, Mr. Hathaway trusts her and I trust her. Mr. Hathaway wasn’t pleased I’d promoted Mrs. Dyers, but he agreed she was qualified and bowed to my judgment.”She stood. “And that is the end of the matter. Now, is there anything else?”She waited. “Nothing? Good day then and please, stop in again.”
Mr. Stiles, trying to go unnoticed, slunk to the door and held it open. In a huff, Mr. Stockman, blustering something under his breath about, “you’ll change your tune…”stalked out the door with his two associates on his heels.

Thank you for stopping by.

Linda
www.lindalaroque.com
http://www.lindalaroqueauthor.blogspot.com

Tuesday, June 12, 2018

heart of a series

by Rain Trueax

Although I have long enjoyed writing stories with connecting characters, in the beginning, I never set out to write a series. Both the Arizona and Oregon historical series began with a story I wanted to tell, with no idea it might lead to more. What led to more was always the feeling that there was more story.

An example of how this has worked is Arizona Sunset, which I wrote in the 1990s with this being the gist of the issues between the key protagonists:
Abigail sees herself as a spinster while Sam sees himself as an outlaw. She wants adventure and takes a chance to escape a life constrained by the mores of her time. When she falls into Sam's hands, he sees a chance for a real lady, a life such as he'd only seen from the outside. Neither understand that the other side has an unseen impact. Adventure means danger and often violence, which Abigail had never imagined. A home life is created with rules, the kind Sam has never followed.

Their relationship problems were the kinds of issues that go deep. Writing such stories always makes me think-- there is more here to explore. A seed is planted on what might be other angles to those kind of problems between lovers or would be lovers. 

While I knew Arizona Sunset would be set in Tucson, the San Rafael Valley, Southern Arizona, Northern Mexico, and Tombstone, I had to decide what year would that adventure begin. Because the Earp brothers are still such a big deal for Tombstone, with diverse opinions as to what they were up to, I wanted them to have moved on. By 1883, they had. (All historical photos of old Tucson and taken at Arizona History Museum.)

1883 was an exciting time. Apache problems were possible. The region was still ruled often by the gun, while others were trying to establish a tony society with fine homes and parties. Arizona would never be given statehood if it couldn't show it was civilized. The railroad had gotten there in 1880. Change was on its way. Juxtapositions were everywhere, rustling in Mexico still supplied cattle for the big ranchers. Good guys and bad guys weren't always easy to tell apart (not sure they are today either, of course ;).  

When I finally decided to release the book in December 2013, I saw it as standing alone. I had, however been thinking there were these characters in it, who seemed to have a story to tell. There was also much more also that interested me regarding those years in Tucson. 

Priscilla, Abigail's best friend, is soft, sweet, rich, and part of the tony life Tucson wants to create. Cord, with secrets of his own, makes his living with a gun as a US Marshal. They are attracted to each other; but until Cord's estranged daughter comes to Tucson, there is no way they'd take a chance to see if they could find something more. Abigail and Sam show up in this book as well as another secondary character from the first one, who develops into a full-fledged villain. As my books often show, Martin, who had seemed mostly weak in the first book, is making choices that change his character-- not for the better. 

There were things I researched about the government of Tucson, the US Marshal system (and how political it could be) and Arizona Territory at that time, which added to the story. Chinese and Yaqui cultures also added to the plot. Most people know how the Apaches influenced Arizona's history, but it's a state with a lot of diversity. Writing a romance uses what is real and brings to it what is imagination.


When I brought Tucson Moon (now, Arizona Moon) out in January 2014, I once again thought that was it. It wasn't; there would be six more in the Arizona series, with another swirling around in my head for a future book. 

What I've learned about writing a series is let the characters tell you if they have a story worth telling. I've heard people ask how many books can be in a series. I'd say until the plots become forced, redundant or repetitive. 

In my writing, I don't consider myself a plotter or a pantser but rather, like many authors, a little of both. I know generally where a book is going, but it's the discoveries along the way that make writing satisfying-- even the days I want to pull my hair out.  While my Arizona and Oregon series all grew organically out of imagination and history, I've been more aware of the potential of secondary characters and even plan future series possibilities.


Sunday, June 10, 2018

COFFEE by E. Ayers


Coffee - a simple drink and a staple all over America. No one thinks of cowpokes sitting around the campfire drinking tea. Heck, no! Those men drank something as strong as they were. They drank coffee! Maybe and maybe not, often it was coffee, but it wasn't very strong.
Coffee has its roots so far back in history that we tend to think that it was strictly an American drink. It wasn't. Tea was the new comer to England. Coffee houses in England had a new drink to serve, tea, and they advertised it heavily. But once we had that little tea party in the Boston Harbor, drinking tea was considered British and coffee was patriotic. Well, we've been drinking coffee since our forefathers brought it with them from England as a household staple in the 1600's.
          But things change and sometimes quickly. The Civil War left the South broke. Obtaining coffee beans was somewhat of a luxury for many people. They cheated. They added chicory or other  beans to the supply of coffee they did have. Today we still drink coffee with chicory. It's found under the brand name of Luzianne. They carry several coffees so be sure it says chicory. There are quite a few companies that carry chicory flavored coffee.
Chicory is the root of a daisy-like plant, with leaves that taste much like a dandelion and both have the same sort of root, although the chicory tends to be fatter. There's all sorts of differences between the two, but apparently, if the root is sliced and
roasted, it gives a nutty-peppery flavor to the coffee. Today most people who like chicory-flavored coffees would tell you that it's smoother tasting yet has that special chicory kick.
Wheat has been added to coffee beans. It's harvested before the wheat ripens. But many a cook has taken the berries/grains from the wheat, toasted them, and added them to coffee. The Indians used acorns, and then acorns mixed with coffee beans. Almost any sort of bean including soybeans can be roasted and added to coffee beans. Coffee has a strong flavor that mixes well with other things.
Postum was created by Post Cereal in 1895 and marketed as a coffee substitute. There's no coffee in it. Caffeine-free, it is made from wheat bran, wheat, and molasses. It's still available today.
As people made their way west, it wasn't unusual for the supply of coffee beans to run low and they added to the beans. Even the most affluent ranch family could discover that a severe winter forced them to blend their coffee beans with other food sources to stretch supplies.
Those cowpokes may have discovered that the cattle drive, because of weather or some other factor, took longer than expected. Those beans were blended with whatever they could find.
There were wagons moseying westward that were robbed, destroyed by fire, or washed away while crossing a stream or river. With them went supplies, including the coffee beans. Pioneers looked for things to use that would make a hot beverage.
So it wasn't unusual for the woman of the house to mix the coffee beans with a little something to stretch the supply. What they used changed the flavor of the beverage. Those little
changes could make the perfect cup of coffee for some drinkers. It might add a little spark or make it milder. We do the same today when we add hazelnut or other flavor to our coffee.
The women who braved the plains, the Rocky Mountains, or other areas west of the Mississippi did what they could to provide a beverage with or without the meal. They used what they had. Coffee was a favorite and still is. Using roots, fruit/berries, seeds/grains, or nuts to the coffee often became a common practice that is carried on today. If you get a chance to try one of these old-fashioned coffees, do it. You just might find a favorite.

On A Personal Note 
I'm back and glad to be here again. Two months was a long time to be gone. But I'm almost fully recovered, and I'm back to writing. I'd like to thank all of you who sent prayers and good wishes my way. Nine hours of surgery and the only problem I have is damage that was done to an eye. With a little more luck, my eye will heal completely and I'll actually be able to see what I'm typing. Seeing is a little iffy right now, but I'm confident that in a few more months everything will be great!

Wednesday, June 6, 2018

SETTLING THE WEST, Part 2 by ARLETTA DAWDY


        In Part 1, May 6, I related the origins of Settlement Houses in America and their movement to the West. On the West Coast, one of the most famous such institutions of all time and continuing into the present was what is now known as Cameron House in San Francisco.
          Established in 1875 by the Women’s Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church, it was the only “foreign” US based mission of that organization. The goal was to serve the needs of Chinese female nationals sold into “Yellow Slave Traffic” for prostitution and domestic service. Most slaves were brought here at a very early age, often under 10 years.
Two major Chinese organizations controlled Chinatown: The Chinese (business) Six Companies and the Tongs, criminal groups. The latter controlled the slave labor through kidnappings, bribery of white city officials, physical abuse and false documentation. The power of the tongs ran rampant, leaving the Six Companies nearly ineffective in their attempts to curb the violence.
The Occidental Mission School for Girls was directed by Margaret Culbertson who led raids on the brothels, homes and streets of the city, and opium dens to rescue the slaves. In 1894 a 25 year old woman was brought by a friend to the home to meet Miss Culbertson. As the story goes, it was to open the young woman’s eyes to the
real world of San Francisco. The director told her a package of dynamite had been left on the mission’s porch that day and questioned if the young woman wished to continue her visit.  She did. Donaldina Cameron was that young woman.

Image result for Donaldina Cameron

Miss Cameron was the youngest of seven children born in New Zealand; she was two years old when her parents immigrated to California. It seems she led a very protected, religious life until her immersion in the work of the Mission. She began her work at the Mission teaching sewing classes but was soon inaugurated into the rescue work. She accompanied Miss Culbertson and two police officers from the Chinatown Squad. Members of the squad were sometimes prone to accept bribes to warn purveyors of the pending raid, and so the place might be deserted when the Mission and police folks arrived.   


Image result for Donaldina Cameron

     
Rescued women or children had to agree to convert to Christianity and abide by the rules of the Mission which called for learning English and domestic skills and foregoing all Chinese cultural customs. It was a harsh and rigid policy that endured throughout Donaldina Cameron’s reign as Superintendent of the Mission after Miss Culbertson’s death in 1897 and her retirement in 1934. Donaldina’s attitude toward her charges has been described as  “patronizing” and earned her varied nicknames in the course of her long life (98 years.) She was “the Jesus Woman” to the tongs, ”Lo Mo” (foster mother or old mother) to girls who favored her and “The Angry Angel of Chinatown”  to community admirers.



Image result for Donaldina Cameron         






















Donaldina Cameron is credited with the rescue of over 3000 girls and women. She established homes for the offspring of those rescued: a school/home for boys, another for girls and one for babies outside of San Francisco.


Image result for Donaldina Cameron

 1906 Mission Home for Girls before the Fire

The Mission Home was and still is at 920 Sacramento Street in the heart of Chinatown. The 1906 earthquake did not bring the brick home down but purposely set fires to control all that raged across the area did so. The home was rebuilt in 1907 and continues to serve the community with multiple services and with a connection to the Presbyterian Church. In 1942 the home was re-named: Donaldina Cameron House.

                                                                   * * * * * * * *

ARLETTA DAWDY writes from Northern California where her 40 year career in Social Work began in San Francisco’s Mission Neighborhood Centers and Telegraph Hill Neighborhood Association.  She was responsible for the development of services to girls’ gangs, teen parents and bilingual young families. Social Work training and experiences inform her writing of family dynamics and the human condition. Her books are set in SE Arizona.


Donaldina Cameron and the Occidental Mission Home for Girls appear inBY GRACE, the second book in Arletta’s HUACHUCA TRILOGY.


References: 1. Wikipedia, Donaldina Cameron
                    2. www.cameronhouse.org
                    3.Kamiya, Gary, THE WOMAN WHO FOUGHT CHINATOWN SEX SLAVERY FOR DECADES, www.sfchronicle.com, February 2, 2018. Also on cameronhouse.org website.

Photos: Google Images

Monday, June 4, 2018

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. 







Saturday, June 2, 2018

The Midas Touch

By Paisley Kirkpatrick There's a tale that old-timers used to tell along the sun-baked streets of old Tombstone -- the thrilling tale of Ed Schieffelin's gold. Millions of people have read about him and seen the monument to him on the highway near Tombstone.
Ed loved the thrill of working his hands in the earth exploring for the elusive gold. He traveled to California first, and then, after a few years, headed into the Grand Canyon area. As if searching for gold was no longer of interest, he joined a group of scouts who were fighting the Apaches and ended up going with them into southern Arizona. Not happy with what he'd gotten into, he quit the fighting to prospect in the Huachuca Mountains. He stayed in the vicinity of a solders' camp. When one of the soldiers asked him what he was looking for, he answered, "Oh, just some stones."
The soldier guffawed. "The only stone you'll ever find in this country will be a tombstone."
The first claim that Ed staked out was named Tombstone, and from it the town took its name -- which also led the town's first newspaper to be named the Tombstone Epitaph.
The Tombstone claim didn't prove very rich, nor did his next claim named the Graveyard. His luck changed when he worked The Tough Nut. He became rich in both silver and gold. He, his brother, and a third partner traded part interest in the mine to men with money. These men built a mill to refine the ore. In 1879 the mine was bringing in $50,000 a month. For a while, Ed Schieffelin hauled the bullion from his mine to Tucson, but when he became restless, he went back to prospecting again.
In 1880 he and his brother sold the mine for $600,000 -- $300,000 each. Ed returned to what he enjoyed most -- prospecting. When their third partner sold out for a real fortune later on, he subtracted $300,000 for himself from the sum and divided the remainder equally between himself and the two Schieffelins.
In 1897 Ed bought a quality outfit in San Francisco: wagon, mules, tools, especially fine cooking utensils, and plenty of provisions before he struck north. At Grants Pass, Oregon, he saw an eighteen-year-old boy named Charlie Williams working in a blacksmith shop and asked him if he'd like to go into the mountains with him. The boy was eager to go. Ed was happy he now had a helper in his new project. They stopped at Day Creek and camped in an abandoned cabin. Ed told Charlie they couldn't go any farther in a wagon, so while he prospected in rough country they would make this place headquarters. He also told Charlie that he could go off for a few days and do as he pleased since he himself would be away from camp a while. Both left.
When Williams returned to the cabin, he found the dead body of Ed Schieffelin. Ed had apparently been sitting while breaking stones with a hammer when he died. The rocks were found to be very, very rich in gold. The camp seemed not to have been molested by anybody, but some of the new cooking utensils were missing. A theory developed that Ed had taken the utensils himself and made a kind of sub-camp near where he had struck the rich ore.
Prospectors hunted for the location from which Ed brought in samples. For a long time they hoped to find the missing cooking utensils as a marker. Any camp would have been made convenient to water. When no cooking utensils could be found. The prospectors searched everywhere for the gold near the old cabin on Day Creek and far out from it. They never located the site. Its whereabouts died with Ed Schieffelin.
True West, October, 1958 issue -- presented by J. Frank Dobie