Not being from Texas, I was hesitant to tackle this topic.  But I’ve always been a fan of  those tough, rangy cattle with their amazing horns, stretching as long as seven feet from tip to tip.  Longhorns are, and always will be, a symbol of the American West.

Their ancestry dates back to cattle brought to Mexico by the Spanish.  Some of these cattle went wild.  Over time they developed the resilience and survival skills that make Longhorns what they are today.  Early Texas settlers mixed the blood of these feral Mexican cattle with their own eastern cattle.  The result was a rugged, long-legged animal with spectacular horns and a coat that could be blue, yellow, brown, black, red or white, plain or speckled.   

But Longhorns are more than looks.  They have strong survival instincts and can find food and shelter in rough weather.  Longhorns can breed well into their teens or longer, and they’re known for easy calving.  A Longhorn cow will often go off on her own to have the calf in a safe place.  The calves can stand up sooner after birth than other breeds.

With their long legs and hard hoofs, Longhorns made ideal trail cattle.  After the civil war millions were driven to market.  They also stocked most of the new ranches on the Great Plains.    But times changed for the breed.  The “Big Die-up in the winter of 1886-87 and the spread of barbed wire fences brought an end to the open range.  Breeds like the white-faced Herefords put on weight faster and had fattier meat, providing needed tallow.  Ranchers crossed these breeds with Longhorns to produce hardier stock.  By the 1920s,  only a few small herds of Longhorns remained.

In 1927, Longhorns were saved from near extinction by the U.S. Forest service, who collected a small herd to breed in Oklahoma.  Other groups in Texas gathered small herds to keep in parks.  They were regarded as curiosities, but the stock’s longevity, disease resistance and low-fat, low-cholesterol meat revived the breed as beef stock—although many ranchers keep them purely as a link to Texas history.

Does anybody out there have experience with these amazing animals?  Any good stories?

There are no Longhorns in my March Western, THE LAWMAN’S VOW.  But you can get a sneak peek and an excerpt on my web site: http://www.elizabethlaneauthor.com. 

Watch for a giveaway next month.

As I was writing this blog a week or so ago, nature decided to deck the halls in all its glory. Snow descended on the West Texas Plains and temperatures drastically dropped as shoppers scurried from store to store. In the midst of it all everyone was putting up Christmas trees, pretty lights and making their homes beautiful.

But back to the snow. Although we only got about two inches where I am, some surrounding areas received up to four.

It was simply gorgeous.

I can admire it as long as I’m warm and snug inside and only viewing it through a window with a cup of something hot in my hand. I’m not one for venturing out if there’s the slightest chance I might fall and break a bone.

This recent snow and frigid temperatures reminded me of the research Phyliss, Jodi, DeWanna, and I did when we decided to write a Christmas anthology.

The Texas Panhandle where our stories are set is no stranger to horrible blizzards.

Beginning in late December of 1885 until about 1890, a series of devastating blizzards occurred that struck a blow and brought the cattle rancher to his knees. Hundreds of thousands of cattle froze or starved to death. Some ranches were completely wiped out and unable to stay in operation.

What does some snow have to do to cause financial ruin you ask?

Cattle instinctively drift south (sometimes over 100 miles or more) seeking shelter when blue northers and blizzards hit. They’re no dummies. And it wouldn’t have posed such a huge problem normally. But members of the Panhandle Stock Association erected a drift fence in 1882 that ran from the New Mexico line eastward to the Canadian River breaks. When the blizzard hit, the cattle began their southward trek…until they got caught at the drift fences. Unable to go any farther they huddled against each other along the fence line in huge bunches and died.

Then, during the especially harsh winter of 1886-1887 cattle losses were as high as 75%. One cowboy of the LX Ranch reportedly skinned 250 carcasses a mile for 35 miles along one section of fence alone. Now, that’s a lot of dead cows!

So, when Phyliss, Jodi, DeWanna and I decided to write a Christmas book, we knew we wanted to incorporate a blizzard into each of the stories.

In my story, a train is stuck by the deep snow and there’s a pregnant woman, a very ill elderly man  and three orphan children on board. If not for Sloan Sullivan, a nearby rancher, who brought much needed supplies and the courage of Tess Whitgrove they might not have survived.

So, remember this next time you’re caught in a blizzard…avoid fences and have plenty of hot stuff along to keep your blood pumping. Use your cell phone to call for help. Oh, and make sure you have a handsome rescuer not far off.

This is my last blog for 2011. My thanks to everyone who supports all of us here at P&P.

MERRY CHRISTMAS and Happy New Year!

During my research for a new project on the effects of the Civil War on the Panhandle of Texas,  I discovered something I already knew, but hadn’t thought about in ages … it didn’t!

The War Between the States never came to the Texas Panhandle, although the last battle of the Civil War was fought in Texas down by Brownsville. Reconstruction didn’t touch the Panhandle either … not until at least a decade later.

The Panhandle was occupied by sheepmen with their short-lived, peaceful culture along the Canadian River, buffalo hunters, the Comancheros, and the southern Plains Indians. Neither the sheepman nor the cattleman owned an acre of Panhandle property; but they were, in that vast land, the law unto themselves.

The “Mother City of the Panhandle” Mobeetie was founded in 1875; followed by Tascosa in 1876, and Saints’ Roost later known as Clarendon in 1878. Amarillo didn’t surface until nearly a decade later in 1887 … and, there was a very good reason why!

Up until the end of the war, the southern Plains Indians remained essentially undisturbed, mainly because of the sectional controversy and the war itself. In the early 1870’s professional buffalo-hide hunters entered the Panhandle from western Kansas. Normal Indian resentment toward this incursion was heightened by their understanding that the Medicine Lodge Treaties of 1867 guaranteed them exclusive hunting grounds south of the Arkansas River.

The renowned Comanche war chief and mentor between the Indians and the white nation,  Quanah Parker, probably would never have become a Comanche war chief if it had not been for the war.  He was only thirteen in 1860 when a concerted effort was launched to subdue the Plains Indians in Texas; however, the outbreak of the Civil War in 1861 gave the American Indians a thirteen year respite from determined military attack.

Texas Governor Sam Houston, victorious in the 1858 Texas election on a platform of quieting the Indians on the frontier, launched an ambitious program for merciless pursuit of the incorrigible Native Americans by the whites.  By the end of 1860, a sizable number of men had been raised in Texas to fight the Indians: rangers, minute men, and federal troops. With such forces available, it looked like doom for the Indians who regularly depredated in the state. It was a combination of these three forces which attacked the Nokoni camp on the Pease River in 1860 and recaptured Cynthia Ann Parker, Quanah’s mother.

But in 1861 the Civil War broke out, and the frontier was temporarily forgotten, the people of Texas continuing to pay in blood and plunder by Indians.  The planned subjugation of the Comanches and their friends was postponed until more than a decade later.

In order to avoid the expenditures necessary for Indian wars, both North and South made overtures to the Indians.  The Comanches, on finding themselves sought after by both governments, accepted peace with one or the other, as it suited their convenience.  Peace with the Indians meant that troops could be withdrawn from the Texas frontier to be used on the Civil War battlefields.

The “Comanches of the Prairies and Staked Plains” signed a treaty with the Confederacy in 1861, promising to prepare to support themselves (the Confederacy would supply them with cattle to start herds and furnish them with supplies and to live in peace and quietness. But as long as there were buffalo to chase and unprotected farms and ranches to raid, the Lords of the South Plains had no intention of holding themselves to such an agreement.  All nine of the Comanche bands except the Antelope band signed the treaty … probably the most representative gathering of Comanches ever assembled up to that time.  If he survived the 1860 Pease River recapture of Cynthia Ann, it is assumed that Nocona, chief of the Wanderers (Nokoni), attended the treaty-signing council and possibly brought along his young brave, Quanah, who was 14 at the time.

The North failed to live up to its 1863 treaty with Comanches, Kiowas, and Apaches which promised $25,000 in presents and annuity goods to the Indians I they would stop terrorizing the plundering travelers on the Santa Fe road. These southern tribes, planning retaliation, made an alliance with the northern tribes (Cheyenne, Arapahoes, and Sioux).  In 1864 attacks on the frontier were heavier than ever, Indians capturing thousands of horses and selling them to the army through the Comancheros.  The route to Denver was under heavy attack by Indians.  Emigration was stopped and much of the country was depopulated.

After the Civil War came to a close in 1865, the government fluctuated for almost a decade between a modified “get-tough” policy with the Indians and a Peace Policy, administered by Quakers, who believed that honesty and kindness could solve the problem.  Sporadic token military marches into the Panhandle area included Kit Carson’s 1864 First Battle of Adobe Walls and Col. Ranald S. Mackenzie’s 1871-72 Battle of Blanco Canyon and Battle of McClellan Creek. None of these brief campaigns really damaged the Plains Indians.

Quanah Parker had almost free rein in the Llano until the the Red River War, 1874-75. It was only then that the determined attitude evidenced in 1860 was adopted once more … this time by the federal government.

Of interest, the Battle of Palmito Ranch, also known as the Battle of Palmito Hill and the Battle of Palmetto Ranch was fought on May 12–13, 1865, on the banks of the Rio Grande a little east of Brownsville, Texas.  Many historians, as well as the Official Record of the Civil War  consider the battle to be a post-Civil War encounter, with the Battle of Columbus in April being the last recognized battle of the War Between the States.

I want to acknowledge Pauline Durrett Robertson, a life member of Panhandle Professional Writers, and her book Panhandle Pilgrimage, as the source for much of my information.  Pauline’s book is definitely my bible of the history of our region.

“A Texas Christmas” hit the New York Times bestselling list the last two weeks, and the USA Today last week, thanks to our readers.  For one lucky commenter, I will send you an autographed copy of the anthology.

This is Minnie the “boss” of Books and Crannie Books in Terrell, Texas.  Minnie is a Hurricane Katrina rescue cat and knows her books!

As a writer, nothing excites me more during the research phase of plotting a book than discovering actual history that allows my entire plot to fit together in a way more perfect than anything my imagination could have conjured. This is exactly what happened during the writing of my latest novel, To Win Her Heart.

My hero, Levi Grant, enters the story after spending two years in Huntsville State Prison for an unintentional crime. Being a large, muscled man, he was put to work in the labor camps during his incarceration, breaking rock at a granite quarry. The abusive camp sergeants he faced there left him with scars inside and out, but the compassion of a prison chaplain helped him rebuild his faith and his dream of starting a new life. Upon his release, he takes up his father’s blacksmithing trade and plans to keep his past a secret. However, as the author, I couldn’t allow this secret to stay hidden. So I began looking for ways to expose my hero’s past. And I stumbled upon the perfect solution in my time period research.

In 1881, the Texas Capitol building was destroyed by fire. The Texas Legislature decided that when they rebuilt, they would use only materials native to the state. They initially chose limestone, as there was a quarry near Austin, but when iron particles in the rock led to discoloration, they elected red granite instead. This granite was obtained from Granite Mountain near Marble Falls, Texas in 1885. To cut costs, the state contracted convict labor for breaking the stone. The use of free—or almost free—convict labor in the quarries, however, was seen as an attempt by the state to undermine unionized labor and was opposed by virtually every organized labor group in Austin. Hence, word spread throughout the region about the controversial labor force.

This historical event allowed me to supply Levi with quarry experience during his incarceration (breaking rock at Granite Mountain), but with a project that was so well known for using convict labor, it could easily expose his past should anyone learn of his involvement. And, of course, someone does. History provided the perfect scenario.

Not only did this fabulous research gem supply the plot point I needed, but it also helped determine my setting. The story opens in 1887, in keeping with the time frame of Levi working at the labor camp in 1885 at the beginning of his incarceration, leaving time on the back end of his two-year sentence for his spiritual rehabilitation with the prison chaplain. It also played a role in the location of Spencer, Texas. Knowing how pivotal a role having a quarry nearby would be to my story, I chose to set my fictional town near Limestone County where the natural resource from which the county derived its name was abundant enough to allow me to install a quarry a few miles from town.

Fun how things work out, isn’t it?

Are there interesting historical tidbits in your back yard that would make a great plot point in a novel? Any colorful characters in your family history who would spice things up? I’d love to hear about them. Who know’s? Maybe your idea will be the spark that ignites the fire for my next book.

To read the first chapter of To Win Her Heart, click the link below.

http://www.karenwitemeyer.com/excerpt_heart.html

Before I get started with my post, I just wanted to share how excited I am to be the newest filly in the corral here at the Junction! I’ve been an active follower for several years, and I know how talented and fun this group of ladies is. I couldn’t be more pleased to find myself in their company on a regular basis.

Now, back to the livery . . . take a close look at the picture below. Can you guess what’s missing?

Women. You’ll find nary a one. That’s because the livery stable was a man’s domain. Females flocked to dry good stores, dress shops, milliners, and drug emporiums but avoided the masculine hub known as the livery. Why? Mostly because of the smell. And the likelihood of stepping in something no lady would want clinging to the sole of her shoe or staining the hem of her skirt.

For a man, however, this was the western version of an English gentleman’s club. A masculine sanctuary, a place to pass the time discussing crops or swapping stories by the potbellied stove. So what if the air was a bit gamey? A little manure never hurt anyone. The only nags were out back in the corral, and they didn’t seem to mind if a fella was of a mind to spit his tobacco juice on the floor or wipe his nose on his sleeve.

But the livery was more than a gathering place for men who wanted to escape their womenfolk for a time. It was a place of business. The liveryman kept prime horseflesh on hand for harness or riding, maintained a respectable selection of carriages and wagons for rent, pitched hay, tallied accounts, and even dealt with colicky critters when the need arose. Travelers stopped by to board their mounts or rent a saddle horse for the day. Young swains coughed up hard-earned coin to impress their gals with romantic country drives in a rented rig. The livery supplied an essential service to the townsfolk.

As I researched livery stables for my debut novel, I came across a fabulous find in one of our local library’s genealogical collections—a transcribed log book from a livery in Bonham, Texas dating back to 1885. Not only did I learn what prices were charged, I also gained insight into the types of services offered. Here is a sampling:

• Horse rental per day – $0.50
• Horse and buggy rental – $1.00
• Carriage and team – $2.00
• Carriage and driver – $4.00
• Buggy to depot – $1.00
• Horse to pasture – $0.50
• Feed – $0.25
• Bucket of oats – $0.50
• Stall rental – $1.50
• Stall plus hay – $2.50
• One month board on horse – $10.00
• Currying horse – $0.10
• Saddling horse – $0.25
• Repairs on carriage – $0.50 to $1.50 or higher depending on extent of repair needed
• Fee for lost horse blanket – $0.75 for regular blanket, $2.00 for double blanket

In addition to accepting cash for payment, this log book also chronicled a variety of barter offerings. Customers were known to pay in corn or cords of wood. One fellow who had accrued a rather large debt paid with a big black sow.

If a man had no goods to offer, he might pay in services like hauling hay in from area farms, working the nightshift at the stable, working as a carriage driver, or painting the livery.

Yet as the 19th century faded into the 20th, and the horse no longer held sway as the primary mode of transportation, what happened to all these livery stables? Did they simply fade away into the yore of yesteryear? Some may have. But many enterprising livery owners adapted successfully to the times and converted their stables and wagon yards into garages for the newfangled horseless carriages that dominated the streets.

So the next time you take you car to the shop, try to picture the mechanic with a handlebar mustache, hat, and boots. Who knows, maybe one of his great-great-grandfathers owned your town livery.

A couple of months ago fellow Filly, Linda Broday and I, along with two other writer friends who love to research went down to Fort Concho in San Angelo, Texas, for a visit.  Little did we know about the ghosts of this retired military post.

Like many others in the chain of forts in the heartland of Texas, Fort Concho was built to protect frontier settlements, patrol and map the vast West Texas region, and quell hostile threats in the area. The site was very strategically located by the government in order to stabilize the region because no less than five major trails passed near the junction of the North and Middle Concho Rivers.

In December 1867, because of the lack of good water, the army was forced to abandon Fort Chadbourne (located north of what is now Bronte, Texas) and established Fort Concho. The original fort consisted of over forty buildings constructed for the most part of native limestone and covered more than 1600 acres. The post was known as Camp Hatch and Camp Kelly, named for commanding officers of the post. 

But it only served the area for about twenty-two years. In June 1889 the last soldiers marched away from Fort Concho and the fort was deactivated. The fort’s role in the settling of the Texas frontier was over.

During its heyday, Fort Concho served as regimental headquarters for some of the most famous frontier units like the 4th and 10th Cavalry. Notable military commanders such as Ranald Mackenzie, Benjamin Grierson, and William ‘Pecos Bill’ Shafter commanded here. Elements of all four regiments of the Buffalo Soldiers were stationed at the post during its active period. At full strength Fort Concho supported 400-500 men made up of companies of infantry and troops of cavalry, staff officers and support personnel.  The post played a pivotal role in the suppression of illegal profiteering that was being conducted by Mexican and American traders known as “Comanchero’s”.

Now that you know the history of the fort, let’s talk about the ghosts of Fort Concho.

One of the most haunted locations at the fort is the officer’s quarters also known as “Officers Row”. Located across the parade ground from the enlisted barracks, this row of sturdy stone houses serve as the impetus for most if not all of the ghostly tales that are told about Fort Concho.

Their most distinguished commander, Colonel Ranald Mackenzie, known for the infamous Battle of Palo Duro Canyon, is said to haunt his old residence at the center of Officers Row. The ghost of Colonel Mackenzie has been seen by visitors and staff at the old house on more than one occasion. It is said that Colonel Mackenzie was fond of his house and its location because he could see almost everything that was going on in the fort at any given time.  

While preparing for a winter event one December, a female staff member working in the Mackenzie house heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps walking behind her. Just as the woman turned around, she was knocked up against a wall by a blast of cold air. Frightened, she heard the “unique sound of knuckles cracking.” Colonel Mackenzie was known for cracking his knuckles; therefore, there was no doubt to the woman that she’d come face-to-face with the spirit of the famous commander.

Another of the “row’s” many distinguished families was that of Colonel Benjamin Grierson, regimental commander of the 10th cavalry.  Colonel Grierson’s daughter Edith died in the upstairs bedroom of one of the houses around her twelfth birthday. Over the years, many people have encountered the little girl along Officer Row. In most instances, Edith is often seen quietly playing jacks.

Those people who have encountered her say that the first thing they notice is that the room where the girl is playing is substantially cooler than any of the other rooms in the house. Edith will acknowledge the presence of a person when they enter the room by turning her head and smiling before she returns to her game of jacks, but she will rarely say anything them.

Another interesting story is about a delivery person bringing flowers to one of the houses along Officers Row. He was told to put the two bouquets of flowers in the bedrooms at the top of the stairs, one to the right and one to the left. As the young man ascended the stairs, he noticed that the temperature seemed cooler than in the foyer of the house. Reaching the top of the stairs, the man turned and entered the first bedroom on the right nearly tripping over a small girl playing jacks on the floor just inside the doorway. The man excused himself but the girl never appeared to even acknowledge his presence. The florist placed the flowers on the bedside table as instructed. Once finished, he left the room and placed the other bouquet in the bedroom across the hallway.

Before going back down stairs, the florist looked in on the little girl across the hall and she was gone; however, the flowers he had placed on the nightstand had been moved to a table in the corner of the room. He figured that the little girl had repositioned the flowers because he noticed that the girl’s jacks were on the table next to the bed.

Just as the florist was about to leave, he happened to see a portrait above the fire place. To his surprise, the little girl in the picture was a twin of the young girl he had just saw upstairs playing jacks. Believing that the small child was the daughter of the woman staying in the house, the florist mentioned that he had met the girl in the picture only moments before and commented on how she had moved the flowers from the nightstand. To the delivery man’s surprise, the woman stated that she did not have a daughter and explained that Colonel Grierson’s daughter Edith had died in the upstairs bedroom where he had placed the flowers. Chuckling to herself, she informed the man that countless others have seen the Edith’s ghost in the house.

The Officers Quarters is not the only location at Fort Concho where ghostly activity has been report. The fort’s headquarters building is also reputed to be a hot bed for paranormal encounters. In addition to the ghosts of Colonel Mackenzie and Edith Grierson, several other lesser known but still active spirits have taken up residence at Fort Concho, but I’ll have to save that for another day.

I’d love to hear your ghost stories.

Today is the official release date for “Give Me a Texas Outlaw” from Barnes and Nobles , Amazon, and all the book clubs.   Here’s a picture of Linda and me in the Lonesome Dove Jail at Fort Concho.  That dang sheriff couldn’t hear a dern thing and thought we were saying “We are Texas Outlaws” not we’re authors of “Give Me a Texas Outlaw”!

To celebrate our newest release, I’m gonna give away two autographed copies of “Give Me a Texas Outlaw”, so get your name in the hat by comment ing today. 

In memory of Elmer Kelton… 

While in San Angelo, we had the humbling experience of attending the unveiling of Elmer Kelton’s bronze statue at the Tom Green County Library. I had the privilege of meeting Mr. Kelton, a western novelist of over forty books who brought the sensibility of the old-style western to bear on a modern Texas landscape of oil fields and financially troubled ranches, before he  died in August 2009 at the age of eighty-three.

He won the prestige Western Heritage Award four times, and was a seven time winner of the Spur Award from the Western Writers of America, amongst many other awards and achievements.

Elmer’s  novels were set in many eras of the past and occasionally the present, all of them underscoring the workingman’s dignity of the cowboy, which he treated as a category of man rather than a specific profession. His protagonists were as likely to be oil-field workers, handymen or Texas Rangers as ranchers, and though they weren’t perfect — in fact they were often hugely flawed — he always imbued them with natural competence, self-sufficiency and self-respect.

WELCOME, CELIA YEARY!

I’ve always been interested in the oil industry, since my daddy worked for an oil company, and our family of five roamed all over Texas, following the oil fields. At an early age, I learned the terms “roughnecks, roustabouts, wildcatters, pumpers, and oil camps. We lived in weird places, moving twice a year until I was ten and got a permanent home.

For almost a hundred years, the discovery of oil led millions of American families just like mine to work in the oilfields. It was a way of passage from rural farm life to urban industrial society. The main lure was economic opportunity. Texans, as well as citizens from other states, faced the hazards and challenges of a new life because they saw the promise of a better one for themselves and for their children.

When I began writing The Cameron Sisters series, my hero Dalton King became a wildcatter, a man with a dream and vision of striking oil (Book I-Texas Promise). He’d heard of Spindletop at Beaumont, Texas in 1901,and that ushered in the modern era of drilling. On ranch land he owned southeast of Austin, he took a chance and drilled. Dalton was married to Jo Cameron, and together they founded an empire.

Dalton’s foreman was savvy Sam Deleon, a loner wandering the West, looking for work. I was so intrigued with his character I wrote Book II-Texas True, about Jo’s younger sister True Cameron. She fell in love with Sam, and wow, they have quite a story! Sam proved to be less than honest with his new bride, but through many trials and tribulations, they do find their HEA.

In the early chapters of the book, True packs up and moves from her upscale home in Austin to live in the oilfield ragtown that provided homes for the families of the roughnecks. Sam, as foreman, becomes furious with his new bride and orders her to return home, but she is determined to live there during the summer as the other women do.

I created the tent city by researching early oil camps, specifically to learn how the tents were constructed. “They built a wooden platform and a four foot high wall all around. Then they added the canvas tent and fastened it just below the top of the wall. Then they’d screen it in to keep out flies and mosquitoes. At night, they’d roll the canvas up so the breeze would blow through.”

No doubt, many of you, the readers, have similar stories about growing up around oil wells. I’d love to give eBook/pdf copies of these books to two visitors—winner’s choice. Thank you for stopping by to visit today! 

******

Blurb for Texas Promise:

After two years, Jo Cameron King’s life as a widow abruptly ends when her husband returns home to Austin. Unable to understand her angry and bitter husband, she accepts a call to travel to the New Mexico Territory to meet her dying birth father whom she knows nothing about. Her plan to escape her husband goes awry when he demands to travel with her.

Dalton King, believing lies his Texas Ranger partner tells him about Jo, seethes with hatred toward his wife. Now he must protect Jo from his partner’s twisted mind, while sorting out the truth. Jo’s bravery and loyalty convince him she’s innocent. But can they regain the love and respect they once shared?

Blurb for Texas True:

At a Governor’s Ball in Austin, Texas, True Lee Cameron meets suave Sam Deleon. Before the night is out, she transforms from the coddled and protected younger sister to a woman in love. Reality crashes down when she accidentally learns he has deceived her. Daring to disobey him, she follows Sam to the oilfields and determines to live wherever he does. Has she made a mistake? Will she give up and return home where she can make her own rules?

When Sam Deleon meets the gorgeous young woman his mother has chosen for him, he fears falling in love, because he knows nothing about love. In order to carry out his mother’s plan, he marries True and moves her to his mother’s home, intending to visit enough to set the plan in motion. When True fails to obey him, he faces the possibility of losing her, thereby losing his inheritance and the family property.

Sam and True attempt a reconciliation and compromise. Together, they now face a nemesis, someone who determines to thwart every action they take, endangering not only their lives, but also those whom they love.

BUY CELIA’S BOOKS
AMAZON
DESERT BREEZE PUBLISHING
BARNES AND NOBLE-NOOK

FIND CELIA
http://www.celiayeary.blogspot.com
http://www.celiayeary.com
http://sweetheartsofthewest.blogspot.com

“…Judge Bean ruled with a high handed, but appropriate brand of homespun law, outrageous humor, and six-shooter justice.”
http://www.texasoutside.com/westtexasparks/judgerbframes.htm, Judge Roy Bean Visitor Center, Langtry, TX

The above statements and excerpts give you an idea why “Hanging Judge” Roy Bean is such an enduring character in the history of the old west. Born Phantly Bean, in Mason County, Kentucky, in 1825, Roy Bean has pretty much done it all. He ran a blockade during the Civil War hauling cotton from San Antonio to British ships off the coast. He helped run a shop in Chihuahua, Mexico with his older brother, Sam, until he caused too much trouble. Next he went to live with his oldest brother, Joshua, who was mayor of San Diego. Roy was jailed for dueling, broke out, and followed his brother to San Gabriel. He inherited Joshua’s saloon but moved on again in 1857 or 1858 to escape being hanged. Next he went to Mesilla, New Mexico, where Sam made him a partner in a saloon there. Things went well until the Civil War reached them. A military life wasn’t for Roy – he moved to San Antonio, where he became famous for “circumventing creditors, business rivals, and the law.”

In 1882, Bean left his wife of sixteen years, and their four children, to move with the railroad grading camps to Vinegaroon, a tent city near the Pecos River. According to the Texas State Historical Association’s The Handbook of Texas Online:  “Crime was rife at the end of the track; it was often said, “West of the Pecos there is no law; west of El Paso, there is no God.” To cope with the lawless element the Texas Rangers^qv were called in, and they needed a resident justice of the peace in order to eliminate the 400-mile round trip to deliver prisoners to the county seat at Fort Stockton. The commissioners of Pecos County officially appointed Roy Bean justice on August 2, 1882. He retained the post, with interruptions in 1886 and 1896, when he was voted out, until he retired voluntarily in 1902.”
http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/fbe08

Bean didn’t stay in Vinegaroon. When the railroad moved west, Bean packed up his courtroom and saloon and moved 70 miles to Strawbridge, and a new tent city.

According to legend, Bean named the town after the British actress Emilie Charlotte (Lillie) Langtry, with whom Bean had fallen in love after seeing her picture. Bean even named his saloon The Jersey Lilly, in Miss Langtry’s honor. The truth: railroad records indicate that the town was named for George Langtry, a railroad construction foreman. [I found the photo to the left on tworobins.com]

But Bean was definitely the “law” in the town. Though he’d had no formal schooling in law, and only owned one law book, the 1879 edition of the “Revised Statutes of Texas”, he appointed himself Justice of the Peace and held court at his bar and passed down judgments until 1902. Although only district courts in Texas were legally allowed to grant divorces, Bean did it anyway–as long as the person had $10. He charged $5 for a wedding and sent the happily married couples on their way intoning “and may God have mercy on your souls.” None of the fines he collected were sent to the state.

http://www.traveltex.com/things-to-do/attractions/judge-roy-bean-visitor-center 
http://www.findagrave.com/cgi-bin/fg.cgi?page=gr&GRid=1339
http://www.legendsofamerica.com/picturepages/PP-Saloon-18-JudgeRoyBeanSaloon.html
http://www.desertusa.com/mag98/aug/papr/du_roybean.html
BIBLIOGRAPHY: Everett Lloyd, Law West of the Pecos (San Antonio: University Press, 1931; rev. ed., San Antonio: Naylor, 1967). C. L. Sonnichsen, Roy Bean, Law West of the Pecos (New York: Macmillan, 1943; rpt., Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1986). http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/fbe08

There’s a town just a short distance from where I live in West Texas called Hale Center. It’s the home of an early rancher by the name of James Franklin Norfleet. He has such an amazing story that I had to share it with you.

James was born in 1865 to a Texas Ranger father and a mother who would go on to birth five more children. At age 14, James joined a buffalo hunt that brought him to this part of the country. After that he worked as a cowboy and drover for various ranches until he could make enough money to start his own ranch. When he was 29, he fell head-over-heels in love and married Mattie Eliza Hudgins. They had four children of which only two lived to adulthood.

One day on a business venture to Fort Worth, Texas in 1919, Norfleet ran into a group of scam artists who took him for $45,000 and promptly left the country.

Mattie told James to “Go get those miserable crooks and make them pay. But bring them in alive. Any man can kill but it’s a brave man who can capture the criminals and bring them to justice.” She told him she’d manage the ranch and keep him in expense money.

So that’s exactly what James set out to do. Using his expert tracking skills, he began a one-man manhunt.

He caught up to three of the swindlers in Los Angeles within a few weeks. He located another one in Salt Lake City and two more in Georgia. At one point, one of the men turned himself in because he couldn’t take being hunted any longer.

In all he spent five years and $75,000 and traveled 30,000 miles across two continents chasing the scam artists. He single-handedly captured and turned them in to the authorities without any assistance from the federal government.

His fame quickly spread and he was besieged with requests to hunt down other criminals. And so he began an unlikely career in law enforcement. Between 1919 and 1935, he brought in over 100 wanted men. And, although he was quick on the draw and dead shot with a pistol, he never killed anyone.

James Norfleet earned the nickname “Little Tiger” because of his short stature and uncanny ability to stalk a fugitive. He never lost a fresh trail. The FBI awarded him a special certificate for his services. Pretty good for an old cowboy.

His exploits became known far and wide. He was the subject of several magazine articles and a full-length book that was published in 1924. And actor Wallace Berry once portrayed him in a radio drama. The country desperately needed a hero and Norfleet fit the bill.

His ranch near Hale Center took a hit though with him being gone so long and he wound up having to sell it. James and Mattie lived quietly the rest of their days on a small farm. I’m sure they spent many an hour reliving James’s exciting adventures. James died at the age of 102 and Mattie lived to 101.

This true story just proves that it doesn’t pay to mess with one determined cowboy.

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A Bowie knife is a style of fixed-blade knife first popularized by Colonel James “Jim” Bowie in the early 19th Century.

Much like the owner with whom this blade is synonymous, the “Bowie” knife is shrouded in myths, legends and questionable facts. Even the experts are still arguing over what is truth and what is legend.

Let’s start with what the experts know:  A blacksmith named James Black from Washington, Arkansas, was well-known for his guardless “coffin” knife, meaning the handle is shaped like a coffin and there is no guard to keep the wielders hand from slipping onto the blade.

From here, the truth gets a little murky.

One version of the creation of the famous knife is that Rezin Bowie commissioned the knife from blacksmith Jesse Cleft of Avoyelles Parrish, Louisiana.

Another has Jim’s brother, John, claiming the knife was made by a blacksmith named Snowden.

The favored version of the story is that Jim Bowie went to Black in 1830 with a wooden mock-up of the knife he wanted. Black made that knife and another one with several improvements. When Bowie returned for his knife, Black offered him his choice. Bowie took the improved model.

“It was said that a Bowie had to be sharp enough to use as a razor, heavy enough to use as a hatchet, long enough to use as a sword and broad enough to use as a paddle.”

The historical Bowie knife had a blade of at least 6 inches in length, some reaching 12 inches or more, with a relatively broad blade that was an inch and a half to two inches wide. Bowie knives often had an upper guard that bent forward at an angle (called an S-guard) intended to catch an opponent’s blade or provide protection to the owner’s hand.

The moniker “Bowie Knife” seems to have grown from the account of an attempted murder of Bowie. In Mississippi in 1827, in what became known as the “Sandbar Duel,” Jim Bowie was attacked by three men on the orders of a local sheriff that Bowie had vocally refused to back for re-election. Bowie, using the knife, survived; his attackers did not. Yes, I know this happened before Bowie bought the knife from Black. But keep in mind the historical “Bowie knife” was not a single design, but was a series of knives improved several times by Jim Bowie over the years.

James Black became famous on his own merits; he was and is considered one of the best blade-makers of that time period. Black’s knives were copied by cutlers in Sheffield, England, and sold in America as the “Arkansas Toothpick.”

“The term Arkansas toothpick became synonymous with “bowie knife” for most of the population [of the United States]. Sheffield cutlers thought the addition of this term in particular added value to the knives they made to sell in the United States…” http://www.historicarkansas.org/collections/knives.aspx?id=54

Black’s knives were known to be exceedingly tough, yet flexible, and his technique has not been duplicated. Black kept his technique secret and did all of his work behind a leather curtain. Many claim that Black rediscovered the secret of producing true Damascus steel. [An interesting process, but I’m going to let you research that one on your own. If you want to see some beautiful knives, go to http://www.mountainhollow.net/bowieknives2.htm]

The Bowie knife became the most famous blade in the states, perhaps in the world, following The Alamo. But, as is the way of most things, by the end of the Civil War, the knife gave way to the bayonet, rifle and revolvers for self-defense.

Hollywood launched something of a revival of the knife’s popularity when, in the 1950s, Davy Crockett and Jim Bowie were featured in books and movies.

Here’s some of the links I discovered, if you want to learn more:

http://www.historicarkansas.org/knife_gallery/

http://www.historicarkansas.org/collections/knives.aspx?id=153

http://www.historicarkansas.org/jamesblackrevisited/