The Wild West and Motherhood by Sable Hunter

 

One doesn’t usually think about motherhood and the wild west being two topics with much in common – but they are. Without a doubt, every cowboy who ever rode a horse had a mother. Women braved the frontier just like men did. They emigrated, developing blisters on their feet from trudging alongside wagons bound for Texas, Colorado, or parts farther west. At the side of their menfolk, they homesteaded, working tirelessly as they took care of their families and farmed the land of Oklahoma, Kansas, and South Dakota. Many of these pioneer women ran businesses – with or without their husbands. Mercantile stores, cattle ranches, mills, and stagecoach inns were just some of the establishments women headed up in this rough and tumble world of men.
                                                    

Women of the frontier were called upon to take care of each day as it came. Many kept up with these jobs outside the home as well as taking care of their everyday chores – such as housework, cooking, not to mention enduring all of this while pregnant, tending the sick, or taking care of children. Can you imagine the strain and unrelenting toll of this life on the body and soul of these women?
Sometimes I think I have a hard time, but not really.

Thanks to these frontier women, the wilderness inched toward being tamed. They turned makeshift houses into homesteads, and lawless boom towns into thriving communities. We’ll never know the names of the majority of these women, their identities have been lost to history. We can merely see the results of their labors in the country they birthed.

To honor yesterday being Mother’s Day, I’d like to point out a handful of women who left their mark on the Old West. First being an Indian guide by the name of Sacagawea who escorted Lewis and Clark on their famed journey, traveling thousands of miles across treacherous stretches of wilderness, hostile territories, even fording fast rushing rivers. She did all of this while carrying a newborn babe – to boot. Her knowledge of plants and herbs not only kept the party nourished, but the notes and drawings she made along the way were a huge contribution to the natural history and knowledge we take for granted.

Even though she’d been sold at the age of 12 into what we might call slavery, her owner married her and treated her with great respect. She became a peacemaker between the explorers and the natives as they passed through uncharted territory. To me, she is a true symbol of grace and beauty in the face of tribulation. Sacagawea was honored in the year 2000 with her image depicted on a coin. She was holding her baby boy, Jean Baptiste, who grew up to be a military scout. Here is a statue erected to her memory.

Another mother of note was former Comanche captive, Cynthia Ann Parker. Her son, Quanah Parker, became a famous chief and forger of peace between white men and the Native Americans. She’s also one of the first promoters of public breast feeding, since we have a photo of her taking care of her daughter, Prairie Flower. 

Number three on my list is the mother of the Earp brothers – James, Virgil, Wyatt, and Morgan. They loved their mother, Virginia. According to history, she passed on her common sense and a soft heart for animals and those less fortunate to her son, Wyatt, who became a famous Western lawman.

 

A woman who impresses the hell out of me was Maria Rita Valdez, who fought to keep her home after her husband died. Many tried to take it from her, but she stood stalwart and fought for her rights. Her not-so-tiny spread was known then as Rancho Rodeo de las Aguas – better known today as Rodeo Drive, famed shopping street in Hollywood, California. I don’t have a picture of her, but I do have one of the street. I’m not sure how she’d feel about this transformation, but that’s how the street got its name – from the ranchland it now occupies.

An early crusader for women’s rights was Abigail Scott Duniway.
 Here is a quote from her – one that fits these thoughts today.
“When women’s true history shall have been written, her part in the upbuilding of this nation will astound the world.” 
And she was right.
 This woman was one of the true mothers of our nation. She was not only a mom, Abigail was a teacher, an author, a small business owner, and a crusader for women’s suffrage in the old west. 
When only a teenager, she traveled by wagon train with her family over the Oregon trail. Along the way, she witnessed many things, including cruelty, starvation, and death. She later wrote a book about her experiences.

What worried her the most was watching women work themselves to death for their family but be denied any rights over their life or property. To give herself a platform, she founded a newspaper to raise awareness about the plight of the pioneer women.

When Oregon granted women the right to vote in 1912, she became the first registered woman voter in her county at age 78. And here she is: 

The old west even birthed great women authors – most notably Laura Ingalls Wilder. I grew up watching Little House on the Prairie as I’m sure many of you did.

In a day when few women had no true voice, Laura wrote timeless classics about family, pioneer life, and love.

I don’t really have to tell you her life story, we watched it play out in living color, directed by none other than Little Joe Cartwright.

Look at her picture, I think she resembles Melissa Gilbert – don’t you?

Closer to home, I want to remember my own mother. Her name was Pauline. She was a true character. I was born when she was 37 years old. She lost a baby when she was 17 and waited twenty years to try again. Mother could do anything – like the lady pioneers of the old west – she could run her household, sew like a professional, plant a garden, and harvest and can the vegetables. She could milk a cow, ride a horse, and paint a beautiful landscape. During all this, she made sure I went to school, went to church, took piano lessons, and received a college degree. Mother didn’t have a college education, but she was well read and taught me to love reading also.

When I started writing, my mother was my biggest fan. And these were no ‘sweet’ versions. She read and enjoyed my sensual books – once she became so enthralled reading one that she missed her ‘standing’ hair appointment at the salon. An unbelievable thing for her to do.

When the people of the town found out about my writing and ostracized me for it, I considered quitting. Her advice is why I’m still writing today. Her words will forever be with me. She waved her hand dismissively and gave her opinion of what I should do to the entire community - - “To hell with them,” she said. This should probably be our response to most who give us grief.

So, today I celebrate women who made a difference. I hope the same can be said of me someday.

Thank you for listening to me ramble.

Love – Rebecca Schaefer/Sable Hunter 


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