Showing posts with label stagecoaches. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stagecoaches. Show all posts

Friday, September 14, 2018

Wild Women Stage Drivers of the West


By Jacqui Nelson

Wild West stagecoach drivers, freighters, expressmen...and women! My story-in-progress revolves around a wagon driving heroine who hauls freight for Peregrines' Post & Freight in Denver and Noelle, Colorado.

But what about the real-life women who mastered the job first? They led the way and blazed the trails. Who were they and what drove them to take up (and put down) the reins?

Mary Fields, aka Stagecoach Mary 

( born 1832 in Tennessee )


Born a slave and freed in 1865, Mary worked in a judge's home and then a mission convent hauling freight, doing laundry, growing vegetables, tending chickens, and repairing buildings. She also ran several restaurants in Montana, Wyoming, and southern Canada. Standing six-feet tall, she smoked cigars, packed a gun, and became known as a hard-drinking brawler.

In 1895, Mary became a U.S. mail coach driver after she was the fastest applicant to hitch a team of six. She ran her route with horses and a mule named Moses and never missed a day’s work. If the snow was too deep, she donned snowshoes and carried the mail sacks on her shoulders. Her reliability earned her the nickname Stagecoach.

When she retired in Montana, she gardened, ran a laundry service in her home, and babysat the local children. She was friends with actor Gary Cooper who grew up as her neighbor. When Montana passed a law forbidding women to enter saloons, the mayor of Cascade granted her an exemption.

Delia Haskett Rawson 

( born 1861 in Ukiah, California )


Delia’s mother was a school teacher while her father owned a hotel and blacksmith shop and served as an agent for the Wells Fargo stage line. From a very young age, Delia was always asking her father to let her hold the reins. She became a skilled trick rider, roper, and shooter but she didn't stop there.

When Delia was 14, one of her father’s drivers became ill. She took the reins and completed her first U.S. Mail stagecoach run—leaving in the afternoon and reaching her destination at 3 a.m. For 10 years, she was a regular backup driver on the 45-mile Lakeport to Ukiah run.

In the 1880s, she married and moved to southern California with her husband and had three children. In 1934, when the Pioneer Stage Drivers of California Association was organized, she was elected Vice President.

Charlotte (Charley) Parkhurst, aka One-Eyed Charley 

 ( born 1812 in Vermont or New Hampshire - sources vary on the location )


Charley was raised in an orphanage but ran away and, disguised in boy’s clothing, worked in a livery stable in Massachusetts. She kept her disguise for the rest of her life. In both summer and winter, she wore gloves and pleated shirts to hide her small hands and her figure.

In 1849, Charley followed friends to California to become a California Stage Company driver.  Shortly after arriving, while attempting to shoe a horse, she lost the use of one eye when the horse kicked her. For twenty years, she drove the stage for many companies including Wells-Fargo—which earned her the nickname Six-Horse Charley. She chewed tobacco, cussed, gambled and wore an eye patch that added to her tough appearance.

In 1868 while still disguised as a man, she was a registered voter, making her the first woman to vote in California. After retiring from driving, she worked at lumbering, cattle ranching and raising chickens. Only when she died did anyone discover her true gender.

Robyn Llewellyn  

( born... in my mind )


Who is Robyn Llewellyn? Raised by three brothers, she's a trouser-wearing tomboy whose one talent is driving wagons and hauling freight. But she wants to learn so much more. So she heads to Noelle, Colorado for a makeover. Why? Because Noelle is a town notorious for transforming women's lives.

An excerpt from Robyn, a Christmas Bride (release date: December 19, 2018)…

Dresses were menaces. The dratted skirt caught on the saddle and nearly upended Robyn as she dismounted from Caradoc. She landed with a curse and a flurry of fabric. The usually unrufflable Clydesdale snorted, sharing her surprise. Her Noelle journey suddenly loomed a thousand times larger than her usual jaunts around Denver hauling Peregrine freight.

She’d never regret taking the old road to Noelle rather than the train. She’d always wanted to experience the iconic trail that Max had hauled freight up and down so many times in the past. But perhaps she should’ve waited to don her new attire until after arriving in Noelle. Her eagerness to begin her transformation as soon as possible might not have been wise.

She’d misjudged a dress’ unique challenges. Wearing a skirt was hard work. Why did women consent to do it?

In trousers, she could’ve sprung off Caradoc’s back in one smooth leap. No frustration. No fuss. No flash of petticoats, like a flag announcing her arrival. Her unladylike dismount brought stares, whistles, and even catcalls from the men on the street between the train depot and Peregrines’ Post and Freight Noelle.

Her expletive about foul-smelling goats shocked them into silence. Not very ladylike either, but effective. Would apologizing for her lack of grace been the correct response?

She’d have to ask Noelle’s married ladies. Giving the men a final glare, she spun on her heel to tie Caradoc’s reins to Peregrines’ hitching rail.

Before she could, the office door opened and Birdie Bell Peregrine stepped out and enveloped her in a hug. “VoilĂ , you’re here! How delighted we are to finally see you in Noelle.”

Trying not to squirm like a gangly gosling under a mother’s wing, Robyn patted Birdie’s shoulder. Coming from a family of brothers who seldom hugged, she often wondered how Birdie—who’d grown up with brothers whose dishonorable deeds had forced her to assume a false name and live a life of hiding until she came to Noelle—had become so open with her emotions.

Then a man who resembled Max—except with wilder hair, a blonder beard, and lighter eyes—appeared and she understood. Birdie released Robyn and stepped into the circle of her husband’s arm. She flew to him like a bird to a nest. Love had changed Birdie.

It had changed Robyn as well, but only her heart. Noelle and its women were her best hope for changing all of her. Then she might win love as well.

~ * ~

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Monday, January 21, 2013

RIDING THE STAGE COACH





Contrary to those in the movies, stage coaches came in several sizes and styles. Some had three seats, some two. But they all had rigorous rules of travelers’ deportment. The following list is from the 1877 Omaha Herald via the source at the end:

Hints For Plains Travelers

The best seat inside a stagecoach is the one next to the driver…you will get less than half the bumps and jars than on any other seat. When any old “sly Eph,” who traveled thousands of miles on coaches, offers through sympathy to exchange his back or middle seat with you, don’t do it.

Never ride in cold weather with tight books or shoes or close-fitting gloves. Bathe your feet the night before starting in cold water, and wear loose overshoes and gloves about two three sizes too large.

When the driver asks you to get off and walk, do it without grumbling. He will not request it unless absolutely necessary. If a team runs away, sit still and take your chances. If you jump, nine times out of ten you will be hurt.


In very cold weather, abstain entirely from liquor while on the road. A man will freeze twice as quick while under its influence.

Don’t growl at food stations; stage companies generally provide the best they can. Don’t keep the stage waiting; many a virtuous man has lost his character by doing so.

Don’t smoke a strong pipe inside, especially early in the morning. Spit on the leeward side of the coach. If you have anything to take in a bottle, pass it around. A man who drinks by himself in such a case is lost to all human feeling. Provide stimulants before starting. Ranch whisky is not always nectar.



Don’t swear, nor lop over on your neighbor when sleeping. Don’t ask how far it is to the next station.
Never attempt to fire a gun or pistol while on the road. It may frighten the team, and the careless handling and cocking of the weapon makes nervous people nervous.

Don’t discuss politics or religion, nor point out places on the road where horrible murders have been committed.

Don’t linger too long at the pewter wash basin at the station.

Don’t grease your hair before starting or dust will stick there in sufficient quantities to make a respectable ‘tater’ patch. Tie as silk handkerchief around your neck to keep out dust and prevent sunburn.

A little glycerin is good in case of chapped hands.

Don’t imagine for a moment you are going on a picnic. Expect annoyance, discomfort, and some hardships. If you are disappointed, thank heaven.

In my western historical HIGH STAKES BRIDE, the heroine tries to reach a stage to escape her two evil stepbrothers. She is plagued by bad luck, that is, until she throw in with the hero.



I’ve ridden briefly in a stage coach a couple of times. I have to say I am very grateful for my nice air-conditioned sedan. How about you?

Source:
KEEPING HEARTH AND HOME IN OLD TEXAS: The How-To Book Your Great-Great- Grandmother Used, pages 201-202, by Carol Padgett, Sweetwater Press.

Caroline Clemmons is the author of numerous western historical and contemporary romances. See her books at her Amazon Author Page:

Books also available from Nook, iPad, iTunes, Kobo, Smashwords

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