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!

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!

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

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.