Outlaw Henry Newton Brown ~ D. K. Deters

I was rummaging through some western historical books recently and came across an interesting story about the infamous outlaw Henry Newton Brown. This part of his history begins in Caldwell, Kansas. Growing up in Kansas, the story immediately drew my attention.

Geographically, the town of Caldwell was known as the “Border Queen” because its southern boundary is on the Kansas-Oklahoma border. Located fifty miles south of Wichita, Caldwell was also a stop on the famous Chisholm Trail.

Caldwell, Kansas 1889 (Public Domain)

In 1880, the Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe railroad reached Caldwell, sparking a boom for commercial establishments. Saloons lined Caldwell’s main streets with hosts of businesses as the town continued to expand. Unfortunately, Caldwell had earned a reputation as a disorderly town.

Gunfights plagued Caldwell:

1880 - A city marshal and an assistant marshal were murdered.

1881 - The mayor and a former marshal were killed in a street fight.

1882 - Another city marshal was gunned down.

As the town fell rife with lawlessness, enter notorious outlaw Henry Newton Brown, who was involved in the Lincoln County War in New Mexico. He had joined up with Billy the Kid and the “Lincoln County Regulators.” On April 1, 1878, Brown, Billy the Kid, and other desperados murdered Lincoln County Sheriff William Brady. Brown left New Mexico to avoid murder charges. After leaving the gang, he found legitimate work as a cowboy and even became a deputy sheriff, but those jobs didn’t last because he had a temper and was quickly dismissed.

 

Henry Newton Brown  - 1857-1884 (Public Domain)

However, by 1882, Brown had made his way to Kansas, and Caldwell officials welcomed him as an assistant city marshal. He was later promoted to marshal. The gunfighter quickly cleaned up the bustling border town. Afterward, the grateful citizens raised his pay to $125 per month and awarded him with an engraved Winchester for restoring law and order.  The inscription read: "Presented to City Marshal H. N. Brown For valuable services rendered in behalf of the Citizens of Caldwell Kas A. N. Colson Mayor Dec 1882.” Area papers wrote glowing articles about his deeds. Of course, they didn’t know about Brown’s outlaw past.

(Public Domain)

Brown seemed to have abandoned his life of crime and married Alice Maude Levagood, the daughter of a well-to-do Caldwell brick maker, in March 1884. A woman of good standing, Alice had graduated from Park College, Parkville, Missouri, with the class of 1882.

 

Alice Maude Levagood  - 1861-1935 (Public Domain)

On April 30th, 1884, the marshal, in debt and living beyond his means, returned to his outlaw roots. Joined by his deputy and two outlaw friends, they robbed a bank in Medicine Lodge using the rifle the citizens of Caldwell had given to him. Two people were killed, and his gang was captured. Brown was shot the same day, trying to escape. His gang members were lynched.

 

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Bank robbers John Wesley, Henry Brown, William Smith and Ben Wheeler. 

(Public Domain)

He did write a letter to his wife which read in part: "Darling Wife: I am in jail here. Four of us tried to rob the bank here and one man shot one of the men in the bank. I want you to come and see me as soon as you can. I will send you all of my things and you can sell them. But keep the Winchester. It is hard for me to write this letter, but it was all for you, my sweet wife, and for the love I have for you. "Do not go back on me. If you do it will kill me. Be true to me as long as you live, and come to see me if you think enough of me. My love is just the same as it always was. Oh, how I did hate to leave you last Sunday evening. But I did not think this would happen. I thought we could take in the money and not have any trouble with it, but a man's fondest hopes are sometimes broken with trouble. We would not have been arrested but one of our horses gave out and we could not leave him [the rider] alone. I do not know what to write. Do the best you can with everything. I want you to send me some clothes. Sell all the things you don't need. Have your picture taken and send it to me. Now, my dear wife, go and see Mr. Witzleben and Mr. Nyce and get the money. If a mob does not kill us we will come out all right after while. Maude, I did not shoot anyone and didn't want the others to kill anyone. But they did and that is all there is about it. Now, my darling wife, goodbye. H. N. Brown."

Did Maude still love him? That is unclear, but she never remarried. Maude didn’t keep the rifle, and it became the property of the Robert R. Foster family. The Fosters later sold the gun to Dr. M. B. Aynesworth around October 1976. A short time later, in 1977, Dr. Aynesworth donated the rifle to the Kansas Historical Museum in Topeka, Kansas. (The museum is on my bucket list.)

I found several articles about Henry Newton Brown. All of them are fascinating. Although nefarious acts marked Brown’s life, he was the essence of the Old West figures who changed from outlaw to peacekeeper and back again.

 

Resources:

Truewest Magazine, Lawdogs Go South Henry Newton Brown’s Gang vs Medicine Lodge Cowboys by Bob Boze Bell 

The Wild West, Lawmen, Outlaws, Ghost Towns & More by Bill O’Neal, James A. Crutchfield, and Dale L. Walker

Legends of America, Henry Newton Brown – Outlaw Marshal of Kansas

Wikipedia, Henry Newton Brown

The Stories We Share ~ D. K. Deters

 I’m a Western historical romance author. Another title might be wordsmith, storyteller, or wordslinger.

As a child, I thought my dad was the best storyteller ever. Dad was a towering figure at six foot three, wore a black Stetson, and had one of those voices that reminded me of a trail-tough cowboy. His stories also influenced why I write about the Old West today.

Like many kids, I grew up with the allure of the Old West through Westerns on television. The majority were reruns, but that didn’t sway our enthusiasm. These tales of frontier life brought our family together for a few hours every week.

My folks hailed from southeastern Kansas, where we lived for several years. Dad’s stories often included the Dalton Gang, the Benders, and the James Gang, making the Old West part of our family history.

What kind of stories? Well, my favorite is about my great-grandfather. He was born in 1860.

One day, when he was ten (or so), he was instructed to go down by the road and wait for a neighbor to bring the mail. While he waited, he passed the time playing with a deck of cards. It wasn’t long before a cowboy rode up and inquired what my great-grandfather was doing. As he explained, the stranger dismounted and asked if he might play cards, too. After a while, the fellow mounted up, but before he left, my great-grandfather asked him his name.

 The stranger stared back. “You can tell your friends you played cards with Jesse James.”

 Was he the outlaw Jesse James?

I suppose my great-grandfather could have made up the story and passed it down to his children. My dad may have just wanted to see my eyes get big. But I like to believe that Jesse James needed to stretch his legs and might have missed his children.

Can I prove it? Uh, no, but I always keep that simple story in mind when I’m writing.

It’s fun to picture this curious boy playing with bent cards that amounted to half a deck. I can see the ruts in the road from heavy wagons pulled by strong horses past corn fields and hedge post fences. It’s easy to imagine the disbelief crossing the kid’s suntanned face as the stranger galloped away.

This story prompts my imagination and transports me, if only for a fleeting moment, to that dusty road where I witness the card game between my great-grandfather and the infamous Jesse James.

Perhaps this narrative will inspire you to pen some of your relatives’ stories. The stories might seem mundane after hearing them for the umpteenth time, but your grandkids will love them!

Polar Vortex. Have You Ever Gone to Bed Wearing Your Coat Because it was So Cold? by Reggi Allder

 

   To say it has been cold this winter, is an understatement.

   Arctic outflow is a weather event that occurs when cold air from the Arctic flows into other communities. This can lead to strong winds and dangerously low temperatures.

   According to the National Weather Service, the polar vortex is a large area of low-pressure and cold air surrounding the Earth’s poles. It exists near the poles but weakens in summer and strengthens in winter. The term "vortex" refers to the counter-clockwise flow of air that helps keep the colder air near the Poles. During winter in the northern hemisphere, the polar vortex will expand, sending cold air southward with the jet stream. This occurs somewhat regularly during wintertime and is often associated with large occurrences of Arctic air in Canada and the United States. 

   Those not used to this kind of weather may not be ready or have the needed supplies to manage in this type of a disaster. As a writer of contemporary westerns, I think back to the Midwest and Western states and wonder how people in one-room log cabins survived in that weather, not to mention the domestic animals struggling in the freezing wind and snow. 

    Sometimes under life-threatening circumstances, the cowboys in the Old West did what they could to prevent the loss of cattle, and other livestock, and still take care of themselves. 

 

     However. I bet cowboys, back then, would have appreciated a big bowl of soup. 

For all who would like to have a veggie and chicken soup recipe with interesting vegetables, read below.

Vegetable Soup with Chicken or not.

Vegetable soup with chicken and fresh vegetables. Enjoy any day you want fresh veggie soup.

Prep Time: about 10 minutes

Cook Time: about 20 minutes or until vegetables are ready

Total Time: about 30 minutes

Servings: about 4 servings

Ingredients

• 4 cups chicken or vegan broth
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil or butter, dairy, or vegan
• 3 medium carrots thinly sliced
• 2 celery stocks, diced
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 2 cloves garlic, minced or garlic powder to your taste
• 8 ounces green beans, ends trimmed, halved
• 1 cup Baby Bok Choy, diced
• 12 ounces cooked chicken, diced or not if you prefer
• Chicken may be left out and a vegetable broth may be used for a vegan soup.

Instructions

1.              Heat oil or butter in a stockpot over medium heat. Add carrots, celery, and onions to the pot. Cook for 5 minutes or until vegetables are lightly browned, and onions begin to become translucent.

2.              Add green beans, diced Baby Bok Choy, and chicken broth, or vegan broth. Stir to combine. Bring to a boil, cover, and reduce heat to low. Simmer for 5 minutes, or until veggies are soft.

3.              If you are using chicken, add chicken to the pot, and stir. Remove from heat and serve.

     Many of my books have food as part of the plot. A caterer and a woman who owns a organic apple farm are heroines in a suspense book. Dangerous Money and  a Western contemporary, the start of the small town romance series, book one of four. Her Country Heart, Sierra Creek Series  

Excerpt: Dangerous Money Book Three of 4 in the Dangerous Series by Reggi Allder.

In the midnight gloom of a residential street in Carmel, California, business owner Kathryn Carlyle watched the city’s dim lights from the back seat of a speeding police car. She gasped for air as dread tightened her throat. This can’t be happening to me.

The catering van driven to billionaire software developer Conner Harrison’s birthday party had been impounded by the police as evidence. She rubbed her throbbing temples to release the pain accumulated there.

Two blocks from her beachfront condo, she snatched a breath of air. “Please stop. I have to get out.”

The middle-aged officer guided the patrol car to the curb. “We’re not finished with you. Go, but don’t leave town.”

He’d probably been waiting all night to use that cliché. Don’t leave town. She almost laughed, except nothing funny had happened tonight.

She exited the car and inhaled the sea breeze as it rustled her hair. It was a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere that contaminated the police station where she’d spent the last few hours. How long before the officer came back to arrest her?

Relieved to return to her safe neighborhood, she took a deeper breath, kicked off her black leather pumps, and sat on a driftwood log overlooking the serene bay.

She swallowed as nausea swirled in her stomach. The fact that she hadn't eaten since breakfast didn’t help. Because she was always nervous before an event, she’d planned to eat after Mr. Harrison’s party. Now he hovered near death. The thought of eating brought bile to the back of her throat. Why did the authorities think she’d poisoned a man she’d only met once?

A nightmare had snared her and was holding her in its grip. When Mr. Harrison died, the charge against her would be murder in the first degree.

As the realization crept through her, she tensed. Two deep breaths calmed her but didn’t stop the headache from forming over her right eye.

True, she’d had the opportunity to poison him, but no motive. She only met him because he’d asked her to cater his birthday party. With his death, there was nothing to gain and a lot to lose; her reputation, her business, her life.

In the morning, the police would sort out the truth of her innocence. Still, adrenaline caused her heart to race. She rubbed her temples and tried not to think anymore.

A gust of wind circled her. She shivered and folded her arms in front of her. Damn. Her suit jacket was still in the patrol car.

Kathryn stood, brushed the sand from the back of her skirt, and picked up her high heels and shoulder bag. Time to go home. Sleep was doubtful, but at least she’d put up her sore feet.

Leaves crunched somewhere in the shadows of the nearby trees, she squinted into the darkness but didn’t see anyone. Even so, fear gripped her.

She forced her swollen feet back into her pumps and walked quickly up the dimly lit street. The click of her heels echoed in the quiet night air. The desire to flee from an unknown danger increased the speed of her footsteps.

The street was empty, except for a black truck parked at the curb. The pickup’s engine revved. The cab light was on and cast an eerie glow on the driver’s face. He smiled at her.

As she thought about waving to let him know the headlights were off, the vehicle drove straight at her. It jumped the curb, sideswiped her, and sent her flying.

With a thud, she landed on the muddy front lawn of a neighboring condominium. The sound of the engine faded as the vehicle disappeared.

She lay motionless on the ground. Cold mud oozed into the fabric of her skirt. A twinge jabbed her and terror banged against her rib cage.

Overriding the sense of shock was her need to go home where she’d be safe. She grabbed the strap of her purse and attempted to stand. Pain shot through her hip and down her leg. She fell back into the mud.

A man dressed in black came out of the darkness and stood over her. Before she could cry out, he bent down and covered her mouth with his huge hand.

 “Don’t scream. You’ll wake the whole damn neighborhood." Buy link Dangerous Money 

 “…This book has it all. Fast-paced, plot-driven conflicts and characters that you can’t tear yourself away from lift it from an ordinary story to a darn good read.”—Mimi Barbour New York Times Best-selling author.

 

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