The Real McCoy

Who was the First "Real McCoy"
By Alison Bruce

If English was a dog, it would be a mutt. Not only a mutt, but one that is constantly stealing words, like bones, from other dogs and calling them his own. Clever dog; capable of declaiming Shakespeare, Penny Dreadfuls and catch phrases.

The latest catch phrase that caught my attention was "the real McCoy." So I looked it up. Of course, there was controversy.

Okay, no one seriously suggested Dr. Leonard McCoy of Star Trek. At least, I don't think they were serious. Clockwise from Dr. McCoy is Bill McCoy, a prohibition era smuggler.

"McCoy took pride in the fact that he never paid a cent to organized crime, politicians, or law enforcement for protection. Unlike many operations that illegally produced and smuggled alcohol for consumption during Prohibition, McCoy sold his merchandise unadulterated, uncut and clean." - Wikipedia

His merchandise was "the real McCoy" but the phrase dates back to the nineteenth century.

The next one clockwise is Elijah McCoy. Free born, in Colchester Ontario, 1844, his parents escaped slaves, he lived in the right period. He apprenticed as an engineer in Scotland. When he returned to his family, now living in Michigan, the only job he could get was as fireman and oiler with Michigan Central Railroad. In his home workshop, he invented a better automatic oiling system, which he patented. He continued to improve it and invent other devises like the folding ironing board and the lawn sprinkler.

Other companies copied his devices, but these never worked as well as Elijah's so people would say, "I want a -- , and make sure it's a real McCoy." - UK Guardian Online

The only problem with this theory is that Elijah McCoy didn't manufacture anything under his own name until 1920. Likewise, another candidate, American world champion boxer, Charles "Kid" McCoy (who was born Norman Selby in 1872) was just a kid when the phrase was first published.

Which brings me to my favourite:

Joseph Geating McCoy

Not mentioned on any of the answer pages, I learned about “The Real McCoy” watching The Adventure of the English Language, a BBC documentary series. There, he was not only credited with coining the phrase, but for shaping the character of the old west. He did it with one simple idea: transporting cattle by train.

In a nutshell, McCoy was a livestock trader looking to make his fortune. He knew Texas had cattle, which was going cheap. He knew Kansas farmers didn't want Texas longhorns anywhere near their eastern cattle. The longhorns carried a tic that carried a disease the longhorns were immune to but killed less hardy breeds. He also knew that railroads wanted to cash in on their investment by hauling more freight.

McCoy bought a village on the rail line, near the end of the Chisholm Trail. He built a hotel, stockyard, office and bank and called it Abilene. The trail lay to the west of the Kansas farms which meant the cattlemen could use it without hostility from the Kansas homesteaders.

In 1867, McCoy spent $5,000 on advertising and riders. He promised a good price for cattle sold in Abilene and was a man of his word. One cattleman bought 600 cows for $5,400 and sold them in Abilene for $16,800. It was the beginning of the 'beef bonanza'. Between 1867 and 1881 McCoy sent more than 2 million cattle from Abilene to Chicago. His reputation for reliability gave rise to the expression 'the real McCoy'. www.historyonthenet.com

 Joseph styled himself "The Real McCoy." Since his business relied on his word, it makes sense that he would turn such a neat phrase.

Get Along, Little Doggie!

What does an Eastern greenhorn know about a cattle drive? Very little.

In Double Crossing, my western historical mystery, I introduced a handsome Texan -- Ace Diamond -- a mix of Rooster Cogburn and LaBoef from True Grit. His background reeled out while I wrote the first draft several years ago. Born in Texas, check. Easy to pull up a map and figure out where he might have been born (around Anderson), and that he'd worked at the Fanthorpe Inn as a stable boy after his brothers left to fight in the War of Rebellion. Three brothers killed at Shiloh, check. I had plenty of books about battles and conditions, weapons, military gear for both sides.

But when Ace mentioned he'd worked a few cattle drives after the War -- say what? That's when the real digging came into play. I had a dictionary, Western Words: A Dictionary of the Old West by Ramon Adams. Great resource, really. There's even an on-line website for slang. I'd done some general research on Charles Goodnight, dug up a trail map, etc. But did I really know that much about what a cowboy did on a trail drive? No. Luckily I'm a member of the Western Fictioneers, and have learned a LOT more since writing my Double series about horses, cattle, life on the trail and such.

Such as calling coffee 'brown gargle.' That cattle ought to walk four head across for best results when trailing them. That the youngest cowboys always ride drag and get the dirtiest (I'm sure Ace's younger brother had that lovely job). I had mentioned Ace carrying a Bowie knife (check), a Colt (check), a suede jacket, boots and hat (check), and along with his horse he probably had a saddle, spurs and rope. But I'd forgotten that a cowboy was never without a handy dandy bandanna. Huh. 

How odd that Ace never had one when he met Lily in Omaha, or after he showed up on the train in Double Crossing. Why didn't I do an image search? Surely I'd have seen what I'd missed. Readers are pretty forgiving! I guess I never mentioned he kept one in his pocket. (wink)

Do readers realize how little of all that research we writers dig up make it into the book? Probably not. But for authenticity, writers ought to know as much as possible about the character's past experiences.

For Double Crossing, however, I only knew Ace had lost his "cutter" -- not that 'riding shank's mare' was something he would confess to right off the bat! I had to research what a "cutter" was (a horse skilled in matching a steer's movements to 'cut' them from the herd), but that was it. Ace refused to explain what happened. But for Double or Nothing, when Lily asks him in detail about his cutter, I had to research the type of horse and color and what kind of accidents might have occurred while riding. And Ace reluctantly gave out bits of his background. I had to arm-wrestle him for the details. (wink)

Sometimes characters just won't cooperate! But since I plan to write a short story about Ace and his brother, I figured I better know a lot more about them, the slang they use, their manners (or lack of them) and their horses. For now, here's a brief excerpt from Double or Nothing about Ace's cutter.

After sharing a passionate kiss, I breathed in his scent of musk, bay rum and soap. He tasted salty, too. “Remember you said how you lost your cutter? Your horse, right?”

“Yep. Good old Reb.”

“Reb?” I laughed. “For Rebel, I suppose. That seems to fit.”

Ace snorted. “Best gelding I ever had. A bay roan, and his coat turned darker in winter. Reb knew which way a steer would run, a few seconds before it moved. He was more intelligent than most people I ever met in my life.”

“So what happened? How did you lose him?”

“Broke his leg in a gopher hole, and had to put him down,” he said, eyes downcast. “Worst day of my life, too. Kept my brother company from Fort Riley, Kansas, up to Nebraska. He was headin’ west to his next assignment. I started back but never made it.”

“And then—”

“Ended up in Omaha. No horse, sold my saddle for a room and a few meals. No jobs till that boardinghouse landlady took pity on me.”

“We’d never have met if not for your horse,” I whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry you lost the cutter, though. How did you learn to speak Spanish?”

He ran his tongue around my earlobe, his breath hot, making me shiver. “Told ya that me and Layne worked to round up mossy horns down in Texas. A few men never learned English, so we picked up Spanish pretty quick. Is that important?”

“No, but I remember something else you told me on the train.”

“Mm? What’s that?”

“That I’d never get a chance to see your scars.”

Ace flashed a mischievous smile and leaned back, arms held out wide. “Go ahead and search for ‘em. What, are you too scared? I dare you.”

“It wouldn’t be proper,” I said, my cheeks burning.

“I’m all yours, Lily Diamond. Whenever and wherever you want me.”

From DOUBLE OR NOTHING -- the sequel to the Spur Award-winning Double Crossing!

CLICK HERE TO SEE THE BOOK VIDEO!

Book blurb: A mysterious explosion. A man framed for murder. A strong woman determined to prove his innocence.

October, 1869: Lily Granville, heiress to a considerable fortune, rebels against her uncle’s strict rules. Ace Diamond, determined to win Lily, invests in a dynamite factory but his success fails to impress her guardian. An explosion in San Francisco, mere hours before Lily elopes with Ace to avoid a forced marriage, sets off a chain of consequences.

When Ace is framed for murder before their wedding night, Lily must find proof to save him from a hangman’s noose. Will she become a widow before a true wife?

BUY LINKS — Amazon for Kindle and print, B&N for Nook, Smashwords

Much Ado About Mutton - Meg Mims

I confess. I stole the clever title for this blog post. The original was used for a conference workshop about mutton-eating in Detroit's old days. But it certainly fits the history of the cattle-sheep wars in the old West from 1870 to the 1920s. I also confess I had to do some quick research about the topic, since I haven’t read enough Western history of the cattle barons, trails, stockyards, open range and the like.

Cattle vs. sheep wars were not like the big, bad Johnson County cattle range wars -- not that I'm up on that history either. I discovered the most common states experiencing cattle vs. sheep troubles were Arizona, Texas, Wyoming and Colorado. Were murders and the slaughter of animals really rampant? Numbers prove it – over fifty men murdered and between 50,000 and 100,000 sheep slaughtered. Serious enough! 

Remember I’m an eastern greenhorn, born and raised in Michigan. Land of trees, the Great Lakes, lighthouses, beaches and cars. Yes, the automobile – which replaced horses after the turn of the 20^th century. And yes, prior to that, horses were common (along with horse dung) all across the country, whether for riding or pulling omnibuses, wagons and stagecoaches. So the “beef vs. mutton” dispute is news to me.

Let’s face it, cowboys (cow hands, really, since they were anything but boys) worked cattle drives on horseback. After the buffalo herds were slaughtered, the open range favored cattle driven northward on “trails” to stockyards where they were sent east to meat-packing plants in St. Louis and Chicago. Ranches could be small or huge, sprawling affairs, and disputes arose about rustling or branding mavericks to swell the herds. But sheep? Cowhands considered them an insult.

What factors played a role in the conflict between cattle and sheep men in the Old West? First, some believed that sheep with their smaller mouths grazed closer to the ground and ruined the range, and that cattle would not drink from water sources “polluted” by sheep. Second, ethnicity may have played a shadowy role – men of Spanish origin herded sheep, and herders worked the sheep on foot or burro, sometimes on horseback. The ratio of animals to men were far smaller with sheep than cattle. You can imagine how “outnumbered” the sheep and herders would be in a range dispute.

For example, Charles Goodnight’s cowhands drove over four hundred sheep into the Canadian River and drowned them after herders “invaded” their range along the Texas-New Mexico border in 1875. 2400 sheep were slaughtered in Oregon in 1903 by driving them off a cliff, or “rimrock,” and the survivors shot. Other sheep herds were stampeded or poisoned.

But some disputes turned into murder. The 1886-1887 Pleasant Valley war (not so pleasant, really) in Arizona between the Graham and Tewksbury feuding factions resulted in about thirty dead men. Plenty of books and movies, some factual and some far-fetched, were spawned out of these Old West range wars.

By 1920 disputes between cattle and sheep ranchers cooled down, since the “open range” had been fenced off by that time. I'm partial to beef burgers over mutton on my dinner plate, but I do enjoy gyros. That's about as close to a cow or sheep I'll ever get.

Here’s a few interesting books, blogs and movie resources.

Dane Coolidge, Hidden Water, 1910

Bill O'Neal, Cattlemen vs. Sheepherders: Five Decades of Violence in the West, 1880–1920, Eakin Press, 1989

http://www.ohs.org/education/oregonhistory/historical_records/

http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/azs01

The Sheepmen – 1958 Glenn Ford film

Picture credits: 

Book cover and illustrations by Maynard Dixon, from the 1910 edition of Hidden Water – which I “rustled” from Ron Scheer’s BUDDIES IN THE SADDLE blog. Slaughtered sheep image from en.wikipedia.org

Meg Mims is the award-winning author of DOUBLE CROSSING (2012 Spur Award - Best First Novel, Finalist in Best Books of 2012 by USA Book News), available on Amazon, B&N, and Smashwords, in e-book, trade paperback and hardcover. To the right is the cover for the HC large print edition from Center Point Publishing.

Meg is working on the sequel, DOUBLE OR NOTHING, and hopes to release it in early spring. Want a sneak peek? Check out her blog for The Next Big Thing!

Country Cookin' with Jacquie Rogers

 

Cooking on the cattle trail, cooking at a round-up, and cooking at home were three entirely different disciplines. Camp cooks might not necessarily be great bunkhouse cooks, and round-up cooks might not cut it on the trail. For this article, I'm going to talk about round-up cooking.

 

First, a confession: I don't measure or use recipes as defined by those things called cookbooks. My mama didn't measure and neither did her mama, so that's just the way it goes in our family. But it's a real advantage when you read old-time recipes that call for a pinch of salt and two handfuls of flour. We know just what to do. But telling someone else how to make a dish is a wee bit more difficult because of it.

 

Tonight, after the cattle are all bedded down and the horses put back in the remuda, the cowhands are in for a real treat. We're having beans and cornbread. As my husband is the bean cook around this outfit, I had him write this up for us. Warning: he can be...well, indelicate at times.

 

Mr. Rogers' Ham and Beans Recipe

(simple and very tasty)

Ingredients:

One or two hambones, hamhocks, or better yet ham shanks, smoked.

1 lb dry navy beans

3 bay leaves

3 or more cloves garlic, crushed.

4-6 shakes of Tabasco Original or a few dried cayenne flakes.

One large white onion, or medium yellow. White is best.

Pinch of dry mustard.

One small squirt of catsup (modern addition).

• Soak beans overnight (at least 4-6 hours), be sure to use lotsa water, drain and rinse in collander.
• DO NOT COOK IN SOAKWATER, unless you live alone and enjoy your own farts.
• Put ham in pot, dump drained beans on top, add new water to cover plus 1 inch.
• Cover and bring to simmer. DO NOT BOIL HARD.
• Chop onion and add to pot. Reserve some chopped onion for topping.
• Add bay leaves, garlic, mustard.
• Simmer another hour and half or so. DO NOT BOIL. Add more water as needed to keep beans covered. (Note: What Mr. R actually means is a gentle boil.)
• DO NOT ADD ANY SALT. AND DO NOT STIR, IT BREAKS THE BEANS.
• Remove ham bones to chopping block. Remove meat and separate from fat, skin and gristle. Chop meat and return to pot. May also return bones, if desired, and marrow can be extracted and added to chopped meat. Discard fat, skin, and other crapola. Continue to simmer slowly, covered, while doing this. DO NOT BOIL.
• When beans are tender, add Tabasco and catsup (if desired) and stir carefully. This will break a few beans, but not too many, and will thicken the sauce.
• Did I mention the beans must not boil?
• Serve immediately, topped with more chopped onions, fresh pepper to taste, and hot corn bread.
• Some people also add salt to taste, but you should not need any as the ham will have imparted more salt than you should be eating anyhow. Unless you can find salt-free ham, good luck with that.
• If you are Jacquie, put your cornbread in bottom of bowl, ladle beans and ham over, top with onions and dot with catsup. If you are not Jacquie, do not do this as it ruins the beans and makes the cornbread soggy.

 

Now for the cornbread. These days, most cornbread os more like yellow cake. Also, people get fancy and put kernal corn, jalapenos, cheese, and every other thing in their cornbread. That's fine, but first it's good to know the basics. I make the cornbread, so here goes.

 

Mrs. Rogers' Cornbread

 

Oven: 425 degrees

Grease a 9"x9" pan and dust with cornmeal

 

Mix dry ingredients together:

2 cups Cornmeal (we prefer blue but yellow or white are fine)

3/4 cup Flour (I use spelt)

1/4 cup Sugar or Honey (to taste)

1 1/2 Tbs Baking powder

1/2 tsp Salt

 

In the dry ingredients, put:

2 Eggs

1 cube soft Butter (or 1/2 cup oil)

1 to 1 3/4 cup Milk (depends on the type of cornmeal and flour--should be a nice batter, like pancake batter)

 

Mix (not too much!) and pour into the greased pan and bake for um, well, that depends on the kind of flour and cornmeal you use. If you use yellow cornmeal and white wheat flour, then 25 minutes ought to do it. If you use blue cornmeal and spelt flour, baking time will be closer to 35 minutes. Depending your oven, of course.

 

Yum! Hot cornbread smothered in beans and ham. Life is good.

 

Might not be so good if that's all you ate, though, which was often the case on a trail drive--only you'd have beans with wild game meat (if any meat at all), and sourdough biscuits. We'll get into sourdough cooking next month.

 

I don't have any excerpts in Much Ado About Mavericks about round-up cooking that make any sense without going into a lot of detail, so here's a scene where Ben Lawrence comes home to the Bar EL Ranch for the first time in thirteen years. He's greeted by Teddy and Homer, two "strays" Jake picked up. Yes, Jake's the heroine. Her name is Janelle Kathryn, aka J.K., shortened to Jake. She's the foreman, hired by Ben's deceased father. "Skeeter" is the detested nickname foisted on Ben by his father.

 

This isn't exactly a romantic scene, but it gives you a little insight to Jake, who likes to think of herself as a hardened cowhand, no more, no less.

 

Much Ado About Mavericks (♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥ #3)

by Jacquie Rogers

 

The towering, lone cottonwood was the first thing Ben saw when he turned the team onto the Bar EL lane. The tree had nearly doubled in size since he’d left for Harvard—but then, so had he. Grass had replaced the sagebrush around the house, lending the two-story frame building an air of peacefulness.

 

The fragrance of the newly mown lawn intermingled with the familiar odor of cow manure. “Smells like money,” his father had always said. Ben didn’t agree—he’d made piles of money in Boston without ever once shoveling shit.

 

He had known no peace in Henderson Flats, or in that house. His shoulders tensed more the closer he got, relaxing only when he assured himself he’d be stuck here only a short time.

 

“Jake! Jake!” Two small boys shouted and ran, arms waving, to greet them as Ben pulled the wagon into the yard.

 

“Who’re these boys?” he asked, wondering if they weren’t his half-brothers. He wouldn’t have put it past the old man—just to spite his mother.

 

“My strays. Found ‘em, kept ‘em. Good boys.”

 

The older boy grabbed the harness and the younger one scrambled up to the seat. “Are you Skeeter?” He studied Ben. “You don’t look like no ‘skeeter I ever seen.”

 

Ben held out his hand. “I’m Ben Lawrence.”

 

The little boy jumped on his lap. “I’m Theodore Somethin’ Somethin’, but you can call me Teddy.” He pointed at the other boy. “That there’s Homer Franklin Collingwood. I just about can’t say it in one breath.”

 

Ben chuckled. “Yes, Homer does have quite a sobriquet.”

 

Teddy frowned, then smiled. “Aw, yer joshing with me. Homer ain’t no drunk.” He scooted off Ben’s lap and onto Jake’s. “So where’s Skeeter? You was supposed to bring him back.”

 

Jake patted the little fellow, who couldn’t have been more than five or six, on the back. “Folks change sometimes, Teddy. He went away ‘Skeeter’ and come back ‘Ben.’ That’ll happen to you someday, too. You won’t be ‘Teddy’ no more—you’ll be ‘Ted,’ a fine man’s name for the fine man you’ll be.”

 

Ben hopped down from the seat, smiled, and shook hands with Homer. “You’re a sharp looking boy. Glad to meet you.”

 

“I ain’t no boy,” Homer retorted, scowling. “I’m a cowhand at the Bar EL and the Circle J. Teddy is, too. Jake’s our boss.”

 

Teddy ran beside Homer. “Yeah, we gots jobs and make money and sleep in the Circle J bunkhouse. Don’t want no wimmen, though. Them old fellers, well, they’s always talking about wimmen.” He hawked up a wad and spat, seeming mighty pleased with the six or eight feet it traveled. He grinned, showing his baby teeth. “Can you do that?”

 

Ben swallowed a chuckle, then shook his head and grinned at the boy. “I’ll need some practice, and probably a good teacher. Maybe you can help me later.”

 

The boy puffed out his chest. “Sure enough. Ain’t nobody can spit farther than me. Not even Jake.”

Much Ado About Mavericks available at the Kindle Store 

Jacquie Rogers

Website * Twitter * Facebook * Romancing The West * Blog

♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥

#1 Much Ado About Marshals 

#2 Much Ado About Madams  (FREE July 13!)

#3 Much Ado About Mavericks

A short story: Willow, Wish For Me (Merlin’s Destiny #1)