Showdowns and Shootouts in Western Fiction by @JacquieRogers

Romance in Traditional Westerns

by Jacquie Rogers

Most Cowboy Kisses readers are dedicated Western Romance Historical (WHR) fans, as am I and the other CK contributors. But we also love anything that has to do with the Old West. Lately, I've been reading Traditional Westerns just to get a taste outside our subgenre.

Guess what? Nearly all the traditional westerns I've read contain a significant amount of romance even though there's no way these novels could be confused with a WHR.

Or is that true? If you've read Hondo by Louis L'Amour, you know that the spine of the story is the relationship of Hondo Lane and Angie Lowe. Hondo happens onto a homestead looking for a place to light. Mrs. Lane and her son soon worm their way into his heart, and everything he does from there on out has to do with her in some way. All this leads up to the classic romance happily ever after ending.

Robbers Roost by James Reasoner features a protagonist who’s so full of himself that you wouldn't think any author could make him likable. Preston Fox is out for glory and to prove himself the best army officer ever, even though he's been busted. His thought processes are warped at best. He’s egotistical, misguided, impulsive, and vain. Nevertheless, once his heart is captured by a young Chinese woman who just happens to be a prostitute, we actually start rooting for the guy. I read this book a year ago and still, after reading many books in the meantime, this character is still vivid in my mind. Now that’s good writing.

I just finished a book written by Monty McCord, Mundy's Law. This is a very traditional western where the entire book leads up to the final shootout, yet Marshal Joe Mundy is smitten with the previous marshal’s widow, who’s now a prostitute. This relationship is the spark for several events and the book and is not just window dressing.

This sort of relationship is nothing new in the western genre—look at Gunsmoke’s Marshal Dillon and Miss Kitty. While their relationship was never spelled out (except in one episode late in the series), we always knew that that the marshal was Miss Kitty's special man. Marshal Dillon never seriously messed around with any other woman and in our hearts, we knew that the two of them were made for each other.

Maverick and Paladin were both womanizers and most of the female viewing audience wouldn't have minded either of them putting their boots under their beds. And these shows, the romantic relationships—even though temporary—was either the inciting incident or a major turning point to get to the big showdown.

The major difference between traditional western and western historical romance is that in the latter, women are equals and half or more of the scenes are told using the heroine’s point of view, whereas the heroine’s viewpoint is often (not always) ignored in traditional westerns. In a WHR, the hero and heroine are both strong and the little woman doesn't sit around twiddling her thumbs as she waits for the big rescue.

None of that precludes the Big Shootout. Some WHR’s have one and some don’t. Mine nearly always do just because that’s the way the stories come to me, and often that scene flashes in my mind right after the initial story concept. My books generally have other showdowns and minor scrapes as well. The excerpt below is borne of the hero’s frustration with the heroine. Kade and Iris had kissed in the previous scene, and worse, one of her friends saw them.

Excerpt
Much Ado About Miners
♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥ #4
By Jacquie Rogers

Kade ordered drinks for Phineas and himself. The hotel bar was noisy, and no one paid them any mind, which was good considering how his business partner was carrying on.

“I told the ladies not to go up there until you was done firing. Guess I’d better tell ’em what kind of firing.” Phineas laughed at his own joke.

Much Ado About Miners
by Jacquie Rogers

Kade didn’t.

“I’m telling you,” his old friend continued, “were it me up on that hill with a beautiful woman, I would’ve been kissing her, too. And whatever else she let me do.”

“This ain’t Lollie.”

“It’d be a lot easier on you if it was.”

Kade couldn’t argue with that.

“Might we ought to find you a woman, get some of that vinegar out of your veins.”

“Might.”

Harold poured their whiskeys. “Leave the bottle?”

Kade threw out some coins and waved the barkeep off. His head was scrambled enough without the sauce.

Phineas grabbed his glass and saluted Kade with it. “Then again, it’s hard on a man—thinking of one woman and pokin’ another.” He downed the whiskey in two gulps and slammed the glass on the counter. “ ‘We should be woo’d and were not made to woo.’ A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act 2, Scene 1.”

Kade pulled his hat low over his forehead and pushed himself away from the bar. “Phineas, you are a trial of a man’s patience. Think I’ll head over to the sheriff’s office.”

“You are too blasted grumpy these days. I might just go back to the hotel and see if Lollie needs some entertaining.”

“Do that.” Kade tromped past the banker and his cronies, shoved past the bat wing doors, and took off to see if Sheriff Adler had anything interesting going on. He needed to forget all about the kiss, that woman, and her breasts pressed against his chest. And he was tired of being Phineas’s source of amusement.

Two roostered-up young men, doubtful they were over eighteen years old, walked down the boardwalk toward him. They evidently thought they required the entire boardwalk. In no mood to coddle big-headed whippersnappers who hadn’t learned to hold their liquor, Kade determined to stay his course. Not surprisingly, they tried to shoulder him off.

He leaned into the taller one and knocked him on his can. The other one pulled his pistol, cocked, and jammed the barrel in Kade’s side. Kade slammed his elbow into the kid’s solar plexus, grabbed the weapon, then kicked the upstart’s feet out from under him.

“You need to learn to respect your elders.” He waved the pistol at them. “Now get your sorry carcass up and come with me. It’s time for you to explain to the sheriff why you think you own that piece of boardwalk.”

With a little luck, they’d put up a fuss and he’d get a chance to work off some of his frustration. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on his side, and they meekly walked to the sheriff’s office just as he had told them to.

When they got to the jail, Adler wasn’t there so Kade locked them in separate jail cells. The taller one, with a hang-dog expression, stood at the front of his cell with his hands wrapped around the bars. The other one headed straight to his cot and flopped down on his back, groaning. Kade gave them each a bucket of water.

“What are we supposed to do with that?” asked the taller one.

“You can drink it, wash in it, or piss in it—your choice.” He woke up Wilfred, the other deputy, who slept in the sheriff’s chair. “You have prisoners.”

Wilfred snorted and slid his feet off the desk, sat up, then took a swig of cold coffee. “Foul-tasting crap. Who made this?”

Kade tossed the jail cell keys on the desk. “You did.”

♥ ♥ ♥

♥ Hearts of Owyhee ♥ 

Much Ado About Marshals

Much Ado About Madams

Much Ado About Mavericks

Much Ado About Miners

Jacquie's Website | Newsletter | Pickle Barrel Bar & Books

Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon

FORT BRIDGER, WYOMING

Jim Bridger

Everyone knows who Jim Bridger is, right? A famous frontiersman, Jim Bridger and his partner, Louis Vasquez, established Fort Bridger in 1843 to service emigrant traffic. For the next century, the area—known as the Bridger Valley—served as a crossroads for the Oregon/California Trail, the Mormon Trail, the Pony Express Route, the Transcontinental Railroad and the Lincoln Highway. Today, the valley in southwestern Wyoming is a historic byway, incorporating the small towns of Fort Bridger, Urie, Mountain View and Lyman, which were bypassed when Interstate 80 was built.

Since my husband and I do a lot of camping in the Uintahs, we have driven past Fort Bridger more times than I can count, and I have been through the fort a couple of times. I especially enjoy going when the mountain man fair is going on. Lots of things to see and do.

Fort Bridger in its early days. Wyoming.

Fort Bridger, now operated as a state historic site was established on the Black’s Fork of the Green River and planned to trade both with the American Indians they had befriended during their years in the fur trade and the westward-bound emigrants. Their first "fort" consisted of two rude double-log houses about 40 feet in length, joined with a pen for horses. They also boasted a blacksmith's shop, something that many emigrants welcomed after months on the trails. They found it a disappointment. Poorly outfitted, the fort was little more than a few rough-hewn log buildings.

On July 7, 1847, the Mormon Pioneer Company arrived at the fort. They spent a day there, but did not like the inflated prices. Even so, a small group of Mormons settled nearby and tensions developed between Bridger and the new settlers, who reported that Bridger was violating federal law by selling liquor and ammunition to the Indians. In response, Brigham Young, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and a federal Indian agent, sent his Mormon militia to the fort in 1853. Having learned they were coming, Bridger fled. Later that year, the Mormons established Fort Supply about twelve miles south of Fort Bridger, specifically to service the Mormon emigrants.

Bridger complained to U. S. Senator, Gen. B. F. Butler, claiming the Mormons robbed him of over $100,000 in goods and supplies and threatened him with death. The next spring, Young sent a detachment of well-armed Mormons to take control of both Fort Bridger and the Green River ferries, both of which became integral parts of the Mormon settlement plans for the region. A large stone wall was built around the fort. For a year, Mormons maintained control of the fort. In July 1855, Bridger returned and eventually agreed to sell out. 

The fort became embroiled in a new controversy in the fall of 1857 when President Buchanan sent U.S. troops to Utah Territory to enforce federal authority and to install federally appointed territorial officers. This began what became known as the Utah War. To keep the fort from being seized, Mormon militia under "Wild Bill" Hickman and his brother burned both it and Fort Supply. Johnston's army spent a miserable winter with little shelter and food.

Fort Bridger today (from Wikipedia).

That winter the Army established temporary Camp Scott on the site, and in the spring of 1858, tension between the Mormons and the U.S. military subsided. The Army took over and rebuilt Fort Bridger to as a base for troops whose later jobs included protecting laborers on the transcontinental railroad, gold miners at South Pass and Shoshone Indians near the fort and later after their reservation was established on Wind River

.

When the Utah War ended, the U.S. government refused to honor either Bridger's or the Mormons' claim to the property and instead turned the commercial parts of its operation over to William Alexander Carter, who had come west with Johnston's army as a sutler. Along with his family, Carter lived at the fort, rebuilding and stocking it and eventually becoming Wyoming's first millionaire.

Various volunteer units of the U.S. Army were stationed at the post during the Civil War. Beginning in 1866, the post was manned by regular units of the U.S. Army until 1878, when it was temporarily abandoned. The Army again occupied it from 1880 to 1890, when, with the end of the Indian Wars the Army closed it for a final time. Many of its buildings were sold and dismantled.

 

 

The 38-acre site was named a Wyoming Historical Landmark and Museum in 1933. Parts of the stone wall constructed by the Mormons in the 1850s have recently been the subject of archaeological explorations. Several historic buildings, which have been restored, remain at the fort, as well as a reconstructed trading post, an interpretive archaeological site and a museum housing artifacts from the different periods of Fort Bridger’s use.

Charlene Raddon’s first serious attempt at writing fiction came in 1980 when a vivid dream drove her to drag out a typewriter and begin writing. A love for romance novels and the Wild West has kept her writing Americana and western historical romance ever since. She also writes an occasional paranormal.

Find her at:
http://www.charleneraddon.com
http://www.charleneraddon.blogspot.com
http://www.twitter.com/CRaddon
http://www.facebook.com/CharleneRaddon

Orphan Train Rider

 

I'm reading two books right now, both of which feature the idea of the orphan train so I thought I'd share with you the forward to Once Jilted.

"In 1883, Emma Lazarus wrote a sonnet entitled “The New Colossus.” Her words expressed the invitation sent from America to foreign lands describing the newly formed country as the land of milk and honey. Engraved on a bronze plaque that stands beside the Statute of Liberty, her words were:

 

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame

With conquering limbs astride from land to land;

Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand

A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame

Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name

Mother of Exiles.  From her beacon-hand

Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command

The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame,

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she

With silent lips.  “Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

 

From 1841 to 1860, the number of immigrants arriving on American soil was staggering. A report issued by The Immigration and Nationality Act, House Judiciary Committee, in 1995 entitled A History of U.S. Immigration Policy claims 4,311,465 newcomers settled in America. For many the hardships proved just has difficult as the situations they left at home. Poverty, starvation, and death left many children homeless.

In 1853, to combat the growing problem of orphaned children, Charles Lorring Brace along with a group of associates formed the Children’s Aid Society of New York City. He concluded that pioneer families located in central and western states with few family members to help with the heavy workload could benefit from housing these homeless waifs. In turn, orphans would be given a home. Thus began the orphan train movement that would last until 1929.

Some orphans found loving homes and were adopted, but just as many were treated as little more than indentured servants and suffered both emotionally and physically from the experience. Agnes Stanley Schenk David was one of these unfortunate orphans. While her adventures as an orphan train rider began in 1906, the heroine in Once Jilted was loosely fashioned from Agnes’s story.

With permission from W. Joseph Stell, who organized a series of interviews recorded by Elizabeth Herzig, a neighbor of Agnes in Schulenburg, Texas, I would like to summarize some of Agnes’s tale.

Born in 1901, Agnes was the offspring of an unwed mother and immediately after her birth in the Saint Ann’s Foundling Hospital was given into the care of that same hospital. Though early memories had faded, Agnes recalled her home as being “one cot among many standing at attention along the bare plaster walls (except for the occasional crucifix or painting of Mary) of the girl’s ward; her few possessions kept in a wooden trunk beside her bed. Days began early and ended early: meals in large communal halls, daily chores and, for those who were old enough, lessons.”

In 1906, a family from Texas filled out an application to adopt a child, and Agnes found herself on a ship bound for Galveston. “I remember being in a new place watching nuns cover windows so we couldn’t see outside. We stayed in that room and were kept busy for what seemed to be several weeks.” From Galveston, they boarded a train for Houston. Afterwards, the group of orphans was split into two, with Agnes’s group put on a train that would take them farther west.

Along the way, the train made stops, and the children were “paraded, inspected, marched, and, hopefully accepted by the families previously approved by the Foundling Hospital.” Those that weren’t accepted found themselves back on the train. Finally, it came time for Agnes to meet her new family. She remembered stepping off the metal steps to the dirt of the station landing. Strangers surrounded her, and excitement filled the air. A snack of jelly bread was passed out, but in the confusion, Agnes was missed. “No one cared if we ate or not.”

The family slated to receive Agnes decided after a few hours in her company they no longer wanted her. They spoke only German, and Agnes could not understand their words. They returned her to Father Szymanski at the rectory of St. Michael’s Church in Weimar. “Humiliated without knowing why, she crawled into a lonely bed to sleep. Now there were no whispers, no giggles, no teasing, no fussing, no crying, no one else tossing and turning in the moonlight. For the first time in her short life she slept by herself.” The five-year-old had been abandoned to an unknown fate.

Agnes remained at the rectory for an undetermined amount of time where she entertained herself by playing the piano. One of the church visitors, Mrs. Schromanek, became enamored of Agnes and wanted to adopt her, but Father Szymanski claimed she was too old to take on the care of an active child. Later, Josephine and Frank Schenk wanted to adopt her, but again, Father Szymanzki refused, saying the Schenks already had two adopted children. However, taken by Agnes, Josephine came up with another solution. Her son Franz and his new bride were childless, so she suggested they take Agnes, and the priest agreed.

“Agnes’s arrival was so unexpected that Franz and Annie had not had time to prepare a bed for her. Agnes watched Annie make a mattress by stuffing a sack with corn shucks, while Franz quickly constructed a bed by stretching chicken wire over a frame of 2 x 4’s. Crude though it was, this bed would be hers for most of the years of her childhood, and the former storage area would be her sanctuary and refuge.” Agnes would suffer many hardships and abuse while in Annie’s care for Annie considered her an indentured servant.

“This was a new life, indeed. But it was very far from the fairyland of her dreams. At times, this new life would seem more of a nightmare than a dream come true. No matter how hard she tried to please her new ‘family,’ it seemed to Agnes that she was always being scolded, spanked, or otherwise punished. She never heard an endearing word or a word of encouragement. She was never hugged. At least the Sisters had an occasional kind word or brief hug--something to allay the hunger of a small child for affection. Now there was nothing, and the need grew. Here in the midst of her new ‘family,’ Agnes felt more alone than ever and, more than ever, had to rely on her own resources.”

In fact, Agnes’ home life proved so miserable that she ran away as a teenager and made a life for herself with the help of neighbors and nurses at a hospital in a nearby town.

Agnes was but one of many such orphan train riders to suffer unspeakable hardships as America sought to alleviate the growing population of homeless children in New York. With an unbreakable spirit, she survived to later wed and have children of her own. It’s this very fighting spirit that shaped America and helped other orphans find their way."

I first heard of Agnes' tale from my mother who was best friends with Agnes' daughter. After hearing the story, I knew I had the background story for my own heroine, Shauna Joyce. Like Agnes, Shauna was resilient and managed to carve a place in the hero's heart.

Enjoy another excerpt from Once Jilted:

"You can’t stop the Clevingers from taking what they want, Shauna. People like that don’t care who they hurt along the way."

"Perhaps. But I can sure slow them down."
"Shauna. You have that look in your eye."
 
Shauna smiled and clutched Lora Lee’s shoulders. "I can’t stop them from knowing about the orphans, but I can stop them from going to the auction. You’ll see. I’ll figure out a way to prevent their attendance when the children are put on display. The Clevingers will not get another child to abuse."

The jingle of the bell and the entrance of five laughing men put a halt to Shauna’s tirade. She glanced at the boisterous bunch with a curious eye. Nyesville didn’t get many strangers. They sobered once they were inside the small store. A square brick of a man separated from the others and tipped his head. "Morning, lassies."

"Morning to you," Lora Lee answered, and he turned magnetic green eyes her way.
Shauna just stared. His thick Irish accent tickled her memory. Lora Lee shoved an elbow into her side. Surprised, Shauna whirled toward her friend, catching her funny bone on the corner of the pickle display.

Everything happened at once. Lora Lee’s eyes widened. She reached around Shauna to steady the jars. Shauna, not sure what Lora Lee was doing, leaned back. The pickle display toppled to the ground.

"Shauna Joyce!" Kupert’s surprised cry filled the store.

Horrified, Shauna’s hand flew to her mouth. Ten jars rolled around beneath their feet. Thankfully, only one had broken. Pickles littered the floor, and pickle juice saturated the hem of her dress.

"Oh my." Lora Lee giggled, clamping a hand to her mouth.

Shauna let her gaze follow the trail of liquid. Two large boots stood in the middle of the mess. Her eyes darted upward and met the amused gaze of the Irishman.

"Oh. I’m so sorry." The vinegar-dill liquid had splattered on his pants and coated the tips of his boots. She should offer to wash them, but the idea of touching a strange man’s britches seemed too intimate to suggest. Besides, he looked as if he’d just come from a bout of hard work. A little pickle juice couldn’t do too much harm to his mud-spattered pants. Could it?

"Nay trouble. I was growing a wee bit tired of the scent of bay rum anyway."  

New Year's Day Food Traditions

Can you believe 2014 is here? It seems like families and friends were just sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, ham, stuffing, sweet potatoes and apple pie are some of the foods Americans enjoy on Thanksgiving Day. Many of these dishes are repeated on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, with foods from other cultures added to the table. My childhood consisted of an Italian meal on Christmas Day and a German meal on New Year’s Eve. Some years, I stick to tradition. Other years, I don’t, but as I sat down to write a New Year’s Day blog, I wondered what other cultural traditions involve food on this day.  

Worldwide, many countries celebrate a belief that a certain food, or foods, when eaten on New Year’s Day will bring them good luck and prosperity. Revelers in Spain eat twelve grapes at midnight, one grape for each stroke of the clock, with each grape representing the months of the year. The tradition dates back to 1909 when the Alicante region had a surplus of grapes. The idea spread to other countries, such as Portugal, Cuba and Mexico. Peru also joined this tradition and has added a thirteenth grape for good measure.

Legumes (lentils, beans and peas) are small and round. When cooked, they resemble coins and are eaten in the hopes of financial rewards throughout the years. Italians pair lentils with sausage. Germans partner their legumes with pork, usually in split-pea soup. In Brazil, the meal is usually lentil soup or lentils and rice.   

Black-eyed peas or cowpeas in a dish called hoppin’ john are tradition in the southern part of the United States. The peas are thought to bring good luck, or so the legend dating back to the Civil War claims. Vicksburg, Mississippi ran out of food while being attacked. Residents discovered black-eyed peas and proclaimed the pea to be lucky.

New York began a tradition of receiving callers on New Year’s Day. The Dutch held ‘open house’ and served donuts steeped in rum, cookies, and honey cakes. The custom spread throughout the United States, with George Washington opening his house the first New Year’s Day after his inauguration. Some folks advertised their ‘open house’ in the newspapers, listing the hours they would be home to receive visitors. Eventually, this led to disaster, as strangers began dropping in for free food and drink. By the end of the nineteenth century, the practice of advertising ended, but folks still held ‘open house’ for their friends.

For me, the idea of hosting numerous visitors on New Year’s Day is overwhelming. The rush of Christmas is behind me, and I prefer a quite day with the hubby and kiddo. I usually take down the tree, pack away the decorations and fall onto the couch that night and mindlessly watch television, regaining my energy to get through the next few days before the kiddo goes back to celebrate. 

However you celebrate the day, may it be a good one, and may God bless you with health, safety and love throughout 2014.

Julie     

   

Christmas Every Day

The Handsome Fellow

By Alison Bruce


While Christian missionaries have a lot to answer for in many of the places they invaded, the message of Christianity did strike a chord with many Amerindians. The story of Jesus paralleled parts of their own traditions and, when they were allowed to, they could adapt and mesh their ancient beliefs with the Christian ones.

This practice of adapting was the norm when Christianity first spread throughout Europe. It is the reason why we celebrate the birth of Jesus in December instead of in the spring when he probably was born. It is also why there were so many variations on the theme. The Coptic Church in Egypt had different liturgical practices and traditions from the Iberian Church in Spain or the Celtic Church in Ireland and Britain.

A similar process occurred as Christianity spread throughout the Amerindian nations. Christmas practiced among the Iroquois is different from a Navaho Christmas. What gets adapted, assimilated or replaced is different from culture to culture.

Being a firm believer in Old Father Christmas, the first thing I looked up was an equivalent to Santa Claus. I found him in The Handsome Fellow. Dressed in white buckskins, accompanied by a wolf, he played the role of gift bringer. Although adopted into Christmas traditions, he is based on a real chief.

"There was a real Native American man in the 1800s, who was an important leader and warrior in the Creek tribe. His Indian name was Chief Hobbythacco, which means Handsome Fellow. Chiefs in Native American cultures were often the beneficiaries of many gifts. According to the traditions of Native Americans, the chief would then share these gifts with others of the tribe who were less fortunate."
www.aaanativearts.com/mailbag-archive/1367-how-do-native-americans-celebrate-christmas.html#ixzz2oeJNreOy

The image of a handsome warrior stepping out of the wilderness appeals to my inner storyteller. The historian is more interested that The Handsome Fellow played Santa whenever there was a need and only became associated with Christmas later. The idea that there is only one day a year when presents are distributed is literally a foreign concept.

"Everyday is our Christmas. Every meal is our Christmas. At every meal we take a little portion of the food we are eating, and we offer it to the spirit world on behalf of the four legged, and the winged, and the two legged. We pray--not the way most Christians pray-- but we thank the Grandfathers, the Spirit, and the Guardian Angel."
ibid

MANGAS COLORADAS, GREAT APACHE WARRIOR LEADER

Even during the holidays, those of us who write historical romance are interested in history. Recently, I found an old copy of WILD WEST MAGAZINE from December 1996. In it was featured an Apache about whom I knew almost nothing, Mangas Coloradas. The name Mangas Coloradas is the translations of his Apache nickname Kan-da-zis Tlishishen (Red Shirt) by Mexicans and is Spanish for Red Coloured Sleeves. His other name was Dasoda-hae, which means He Just Sits There. A Bedonkohe by birth, he married into the Copper Mines local group of the Chihenne and became also leader of the neighboring Mimbreño local group of the Chihenne. He is regarded by many historians to be one of the most important Native American leaders of the 19th century due to his fighting achievements against Mexicans and Americans.

Mangas Coloradas

When I think of Apaches, I picture a shortish person of small frame. Physically impressive, Mangas Coloradas was a giant of a man at six inches over six feet and weighing around 250 pounds. He was extremely intelligent, with a large head, and said to have equaled orator Daniel Webster. Born around 1793. He was a member of the Eastern Chiricahua nation, whose homeland stretched west from the Rio Grande to include most of what is present-day southwestern New Mexico.

During the decades of the 1820s and 1830s, the Apaches' main enemies were the Mexicans, who had won their independence from Spain in 1821. Mangas Coloradas was considered courageous, wise, generous, and always sought peace. Some believe he was a legend in his own time. Mangas Coloradas was a peaceful man until 1837 when the Mexican Government offered a $100 bounty for each Apache Indian scalp. He became chief of the Mimbreño in 1837, after his predecessor, Juan José Compas—together with a number of Mimbreño men, women, and children—had been betrayed and murdered by a group of trappers for the Mexican bounty on their scalps. Mangas Coloradas and his warriors avenged the treachery by slaughtering trapping parties, attacking supply trains to the region, and starving the citizens of Santa Rita, killing the remainder on their attempted escape. For a time the area was cleared of its white and Mexican inhabitants.

In 1846, when the United States went to war with Mexico, the Apache Nation promised U.S. soldiers safe passage through Apache lands. Once the U.S. occupied New Mexico in 1846, Mangas Coloradas signed a peace treaty, respecting them as conquerors of the hated Mexican enemy. An uneasy peace between the Apache and the United States lasted until an influx of gold miners into New Mexico's Pinos Altos Mountains led to open conflict.

In December 1860, thirty miners launched a surprise attack on an encampment of Bedonkohes on the west bank of the Mimbres River. Historian Edwin R. Sweeney reported, the miners "... killed four Indians, wounded others, and captured thirteen women and children." Shortly after that, Mangas began raids against U.S. citizens and their property.

Cochise, by Edward Curtis

Mangas Coloradas' daughter Dos-Teh-Seh married Cochise, principal chief of the Chokonen Apache. Cochise had long resisted fighting whites. In early February 1861, US Army Lieutenant George N. Bascom investigating the "Indian" kidnapping of a rancher's son, apparently without orders, lured an innocent Cochise, his family and several warriors into a trap at Apache Pass, southeastern Arizona. Cochise managed to escape, but his family and warriors remained in custody. Negotiations were unsuccessful and fighting erupted.

This incident, known as the "Bascom Affair," ended with Cochise’s brother and five other warriors being hanged by Bascom. Later that year, Mangas and Cochise struck an alliance, agreeing to drive all whites out of Apache territory. They were joined in their effort by Victorio (supposed to be another of Mangas Coloradas’ sons in law), Juh and Geronimo. Although the goal was never achieved, the White population in Apache territory was greatly reduced for a few years during the Civil War, after federal troops had been withdrawn to the east.

Victorio

Mangas Coloradas was a skilled strategist in guerrilla warfare. In January 1863, he decided to meet with U.S. military leaders at Fort McLane, in southwestern New Mexico. Mangas arrived under a flag of truce to meet with Brigadier General Joseph Rodman West, an officer of the California militia and a future Reconstruction senator from Louisiana. In spite of the truce, armed soldiers took Mangas into custody. West allegedly gave an execution order to the sentries.

“ Men, that old murderer has got away from every soldier command and has left a trail of blood for 500 miles on the old stage line. I want him dead tomorrow morning. Do you understand? I want him dead. ”

That night, while tied on the ground, Mangas was provoked with red hot bayonets until he moved to simulate his attempt to escape. Then he was shot "trying to escape." The following day, U.S. soldiers cut off his head, boiled it and sent the skull to Orson Squire Fowler, a phrenologist in New York City. Phrenological analysis of the skull and a sketch of it appear in Fowler's book. The murder and mutilation of Mangas' body only increased the hostility between Apaches and the United States, with more or less constant war continuing for nearly another 25 years.

Mangas Coloradas died January 18, 1863 and is buried in an unmarked plot in Mangas Cemetery,

Grant County, New Mexico.

Souces for post:

WILD WEST MAGAZINE, December 1996

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britania 

I write as well as read about the West. Try one of my contemporary or historical romances in print or ebook from my page at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Clemmons/e/B001K8CXZ6/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1387759532&sr=1-2-ent. 

My latest release is THE MOST UNSUITABLE COURTSHIP, book 3 of the Kincaid series. The Amazon link is http://www.amazon.com/Most-Unsuitable-Courtship-Kincaids-ebook/dp/B00G5YXI6I/ref=sr_1_3?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1387759329&sr=1-3&keywords=caroline+clemmons

Also available is the audio book BRAZOS BRIDE from Audible, Amazon, and iTunes. HIGH STAKES BRIDE will soon be available.

Books made wonderful gifts for yourself or others!

Merry Christmas to all y'all.

Welcome Kristy McCaffrey to Cowboy Kisses

While I'm (Ginger) enjoying the Christmas holidays in Arizona, Kristy was kind enough to fill in for me today with an interesting article and an introduction to her new release, set in the very state I'm visiting.  Thank you, Kristy, and happy holidays to everyone.

Indian Boarding Schools

Guest Post by Kristy McCaffrey

During the 1800’s, when many Native Americans were forced onto reservations, the American government agreed to provide money, food, and education for their children. While this exchange proved to be largely detrimental to the Indian population, it was still believed that if they could learn to speak English, become Christian, and farm the land as European Americans did, then they would become successful in life. To this end, Christian churches began to open mission schools on reservations. Later, boarding schools were created with the idea that it would be easier to teach children a new way of life if they were taken from their own families and people. Boarding schools were established in 15 states or territories including Pennsylvania, Michigan, Nebraska, Oregon, California and Idaho. Children stayed anywhere from four to ten years.

While some parents readily agreed to send their children, believing they needed to learn English and new job skills, others refused. In many instances, the government forced the children to go. In 1895, a group of Hopi leaders were sent to Alcatraz Island for seven months because they wouldn’t sent their children to a boarding school.

New students were stripped of their native clothing and given uniforms. Their hair was usually cut short and they were given English names. They were punished if they used their native language. Their spiritual traditions were forbidden, replaced instead with church services and the observance of Christian holidays. The schools were often over-crowded and many children became sick, contracting influenza, tuberculosis, and measles.

While overwhelmingly negative for most children, one positive aspect was that many built lasting friendships with Native Americans from other tribes while at school together. It wasn’t until the mid-1900’s that most boarding schools were closed.


Works Cited
Littlefield, Holly. Children of the Indian Boarding Schools. Carolrhoda Books, Inc., 2001.

Photo Credits
IndianBoardingSchoolsA.jpg   content.lib.washington.edu 
IndianBoardingSchoolsB.jpg   en.wikipedia.org 
****************************************************************************

Don’t miss Kristy’s new book, Into the Land of Shadows, a historical western romance set in the Arizona Territory, now available from Prairie Rose Publications. As Ethan Barstow and Kate Kinsella search for Ethan’s brother, Charley, they find three Hopi children along the way hiding in the desert, on the run from nearby Keams Canyon Boarding School.

Blurb
Ethan Barstow has come to Arizona Territory to search for his younger brother, Charley. It’s been five years since a woman came between them and it’s high time they buried the hatchet. He soon learns that his brother has broken more than one heart in town, has mysteriously and abruptly disappeared, and that an indignant fiancée is hot on his trail.

Kate Kinsella pursues Charley Barstow when he skips out of town without a second thought. Not only has he left Agnes McPherson alone and pregnant, but everyone still believes that he and Kate are engaged, a sham from the beginning. An ill-timed encounter with a group of ruffians has her suddenly in the company of Ethan Barstow, Charley’s brother and a man of questionable repute. As they move deeper into the shadows of the Arizona desert, family tensions and past tragedies threaten to destroy a relationship neither of them expects.

Visit http://kristymccaffrey.com for more info.

You can also find Kristy at:
Blog:  http://kristymccaffrey.blogspot.com/
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKristyMcCaffrey
Twitter:  https://twitter.com/McCaffreyKristy