Jim Bowie–a name synonymous with Texas. Most of us know he died defending the Alamo, and that he wielded a big knife that now carries his name. But Jim Bowie was quite an interesting character.
Born in Kentucky in the spring of 1796, he moved with his parents and nine siblings west to the Red River, then Missouri and finally to Spanish Louisiana and Opelousas in 1812. Fluent in Spanish and French, Bowie was also proficient with pistol, rifle and knife. Bowie and his elder brother, Rezin, enlisted for the War of 1812, though they arrived too late for the fighting.
Now that they were out in the world, the Bowie brothers tried many things to make a living. In order to raise the money needed to take advantage of the rising land prices in Louisiana, they smuggled in slaves, making three trips to buy slaves from the pirate Jean LaFitte and selling them in Louisiana. Of course, they’d worked a deal where they bought the very slaves they’d smuggled in and got back half the price he paid.
In 1825, three of the Bowie boys bought a plantation and established the first steam mill used to grind sugar cane in Louisiana. When they sold out, they used their profits to move on to another plantation in Arkansas.
“The adult Bowie was described by his brother John as “a stout, rather raw-boned man, of six feet height, weighed 180 pounds.” He had light-colored hair, keen grey eyes “rather deep set in his head,” a fair complexion, and high cheek-bones. Bowie had an “open, frank disposition,” but when aroused by an insult, his anger was terrible.”
Always rather fearless, Bowie cut a path for himself all the way to Mexico. As early as 1819, he was working to liberate Texas from Spanish rule. In 1830, he moved to Texas, took the oath of allegiance to Mexico and settled in Saltillo, where he learned of an old law that allowed a Mexican citizen could purchase eleven-league grants in Texas for $100 to $250 each. Bowie urged Mexicans to apply for the eleven-league grants, which he purchased from them. When Jim Bowie left Saltillo a few months later, he owned fifteen or sixteen of these grants. At 4,428.4 acres per grant, Bowie was becoming a rather wealthy man.
Bowie, now age thirty-four, was at his prime. He was well traveled, convivial, loved music, and was generous. He also was ambitious and scheming, played cards for money, and lived in constant state of debt.
When he arrived in San Antonio, he posed as a man of wealth and attached himself to the wealthy Veramendi family. In the autumn of 1830, he accompanied the family back to Saltillo, and on October 5 officially became a Mexican citizen. The citizenship, however, was contingent on his establishing wool and cotton mills in Coahuila, so, through a friend back in Natchez, Bowie purchased a textile mill for $20,000.
On April 25, 1831, Bowie married Ursula de Veramendi, the daughter of a Mexican Governor. But marriage didn’t settle his lust for adventure. He led a fruitless search for the “lost” Los Almagres Mine, somewhere west of San Antonio, and was given the title of “Colonel” when he led twenty-six citizen “rangers” to scout the head of the Colorado River for hostile Indians. He came back empty-handed that time, too.
After the death of his wife and two young children of cholera in 1833, Bowie became a land commissioner for the Texas-Coahuila government, promoting land settlement in Texas. In May of 1835, Mexican President and General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna abolished that government and ordered the arrest of all Texans doing business in the new capital. In response, Bowie led a small group of Texas “militia” to San Antonio in July and seized a stack of muskets in the Mexican armory there.
On October 3, 1835, Santa Anna abolished all state legislatures in Mexico. Former Empresario to Mexico Stephen F. Austin, newly elected to command the volunteer army of Texas, issued a call to arms and placed Jim Bowie on his staff as a colonel. William B. Travis also joined the new army. Bowie led forays south of Bexar and successfully commanded his troops at the battle of Concepción, but he had little interest in formal command, and tried repeatedly to resign from his position.
Sounds to me like General Sam Houston foundthe best way to use Bowie when he asked himto organize a guerilla force to harass the Mexican army in December of 1835.
From here, Bowie’s fate is set in motion. In January, 1836, Bowie returned to Bexar with an order from Houston to demolish the fortifications. After seeing the situation, he recommended that they hold Bexar instead, because of its strategic position. William Travis, now a lieutenant colonel, arrived with thirty men on February 3; David Crockett rode in with twelve men on the eighth. The garrison at the Alamo now had nearly 190 men.
On February 11, Lt. Colonel Travis took command of the garrison. On the 12th, the volunteers elected Bowie to command. On February 13, Bowie and Travis worked out a compromise giving Travis command of the regulars, Bowie command of the volunteers, and both men joint authority over garrison orders and correspondence.
Before dawn on March 6, 1836, while Bowie was confined to a cot with what is believed to be advanced tuberculosis, the Mexican Army under Santa Anna attacked and killed all 188 defenders of the Alamo.
“During Bowie’s lifetime, he had been described as ” a clever, polite gentleman…attentive to the ladies on all occasions…a true, constant, and generous friend…a foe no one dared to undervalue and many feared.” Slave trader, gambler, land speculator, dreamer, and hero, James Bowie in death became immortal in the annals of Texas history.” http://www.forttumbleweed.net/jimbowie.html
—I’m saving the part about the knife for next time.
When I began writing TEXAS BLUE, April 2011 release with Berkley, I wanted to open with a Texas Ranger, Duncan ‘Duck’ McMurray, leaving on a secret mission.
As he says good-bye to his best friend, both men know the danger Duck faces but he comes from a long line of Texas Rangers and, much as Duck loves adventure, he loves Texas more.
His friend, a gambler named Lewton Paterson, prefers a quiet adventure of traveling to Whispering Mountain to court one of Duck’s cousins while his friend is out of town and can’t try to stop him. Though Lewt is successful in his world, he longs for a home and family, something gamblers rarely have.
Because of my love for Texas History, I knew of a raid the rangers made into Mexico to try to retrieve stolen cattle and to break up a gang of outlaws. It fit perfectly into my story.
Captain Leander McNelly organized a special force of rangers in 1875 and my character, Duncan McMurray, stepped into a time and place in history as wild as any western. It’s often said that early Texans were great fighters but poor writers, so very little facts about the raid are known. This story, like many others in Texas Legend, was passed down in the telling.
The raid they made became part of the legend of the Rangers. We do know a few men, wearing the circle star, raced across the border with guns blazing one night in 1875. When met by outlaws several times greater in numbers, McNelly made his stand and, with a great deal of brass, demanded the hundreds of head of cattle stolen be returned. Because it was night, the outlaws didn’t know how few rangers rode with Captain McNelly. By dawn cattle were driven back across the Rio Grande. More cattle, it turned out, than the rangers thought had been stolen.
I find it fascinating that McNelly, a great legend, was 5’6″ tall and thin, 130 lb. or so and suffered from tuberculosis most of his adult life.
In my story, Duncan is hurt and accidentally left behind. Without a horse and too weak to walk, he knows he’ll be killed if he doesn’t get help. An old woman dressed as a peddler finds him. He thinks he’s saved, but soon discovers she plans to auction him off to the highest outlaw bidding.
Lewt Patterson, unaware of what has happened to his best friend, travels to Whispering Mountain to meet the single ladies of a huge ranch called Whispering Mountain. The only women he’s ever known are girls who hang around the saloons. Lewt’s first surprise is that not all women find him irresistible.
I had great fun showing what ranching life in 1875 must have been like. The two stories of Lewt and Duck come together and both men grow as they define what it means to be a real hero.
TEXAS BLUE, like most of my historical romances, was sparked from true history. Ride along with me. I’ll bet you’ll fall in love with both men and the women strong enough to love them.
This is my fifth Whispering Mountain book and my first one of the new generation. If you would like to see Duck and the girls as children please read TALL, DARK, AND TEXAN.
Leave a comment to get your name in the hat for an autographed copy of TEXAS BLUE.
Let me know how you like my new video.
***Jodi Thomas is the NY Times and USA Today bestselling author of 31 novels and 8 short story collections. As of July 2006, she was the 11th woman to be inducted into the RWA Hall of Fame. She is also currently serving as the Writer in Residence at West Texas A&M University in Canyon, Texas.
In 1847, Colonel Samuel Walker, Army commander and a Texas Ranger in John C. Hays’ company, approached Sam Colt to make a new, stronger, more powerful revolver. Colt took the order–but had no factory. He turned to Eli Whitney, Jr., son of the famous inventor of the cotton gin, who had a factory in Connecticut where the order was completed and shipped by mid-1847.
Named the “Walker” for the Colonel, this single action, six shot, black powder revolver was 15 ½” long and weighed–are you ready–4 pounds, 8 ounces! Unloaded! Add the lead balls, wadding, etc. and you’re close to 5 pounds. That’s as much as one of those big bottles of wine. Try gripping that and holding it steady at arms length.
Can you even imagine shooting that thing, let alone hauling a couple of them around all the time? Though Hollywood shows the Colt Walker as a belt gun, the Texas Rangers and the mounted troops under Walker’s command during the Mexican-American War, and on the Texas frontier, carried the Colt Walker in saddle holsters.
Just to give you a visual, in the pic on the right, Josey Wales holds a Colt Walker in his left hand and a Colt 1860 Army in his right.
In the picture on the left, character Augustus McCrae of LonesomeDove, is holstering his Colt Walker. See how long it is compared to Robert Duvall’s torso?
[Both of these pictures are from The Internet Movie Firearms Database, www.imfdb.org. It's a great site!]
With an effective range of 100 yards, the 1867 Walker could be loaded with as much powder as some muskets, making it the most powerful revolver of its day. In fact, it was more powerful than most modern pistols. The black powder Walker Colt is regarded by some experts as the most powerful commercially manufactured repeating handgun from 1847 until the introduction of the .357 Magnum in 1935.
“It proved to be a revolver of such size, weight, and heft that Colt was reputed to have said, “It would take a Texan to shoot it.” Walker wrote in 1847 that the gun was “as effective as a common rifle at 100 yards and superior to a musket even at 200.” Far more powerful than the earlier Patersons, this gun quickly became legendary. For those who could afford it, the Walker Colt was a symbol of strength, authority and great financial means.
“Total production of the original Walker was about 1,100, a thousand of which were ordered by the U.S. Ordnance Department. The Walker was the first revolver ever purchased by the Army, and soldiers’ inexperience with a revolver resulted in a lot of “burst cylinders,” meaning all six chambers fired at the same time.” [http://americanhistory.si.edu/militaryhistory/collection/object.asp?ID=820]
The Colt Walker was quickly followed by the Colt Dragoon series of revolvers, which only improved on a very good thing.
Susanna Dickinson would probably agree with those who say, “Life in the early days of Texas was an adventure for men and dogs, but hell on women and horses.” Texans and historians will always remember her as the sole adult Anglo survivor that witnessed the massacre at the Battle of the Alamo.
I recently finished reading a novel titled Escape From the Alamo, written by Dac Crossley, a retired professor who lives in Georgia. However, as he says, he’s still “a Texas boy.” To me, he’s a gentleman Western author who writes about Texas Rangers in the Wild Horse Desert of South Texas. His latest novel, though, is different. Without relating the plot, he does mention Mrs. Susanna Dickinson, a survivor of the fall of the Alamo. She was real, just like Davy Crockett and Colonel Travis.
Why was Susanna Dickinson in the Alamo in the first place?
She lived in Gonzales in Mexican Texas with her first husband, Almaron Dickinson. As Antonio López de Santa Anna entered the city, Dickinson reportedly caught up his wife and baby daughter behind his saddle and galloped to the Alamo, just before the enemy started firing. In the Alamo, legend says William B. Travis tied his cat’s-eye ring around Angelina’s neck. Angelina and Susanna survived the final Mexican assault on March 6, 1836.
On March 7, Santa Anna interviewed each of the survivors individually. He was impressed with Mrs. Dickinson and offered to adopt Angelina and have the child educated in Mexico City. Dickinson refused the offer. A few days after the battle, Santa Anna released mother and daughter to act as a messenger to General Sam Houston.
Susanna Dickinson reported that after the battle, the following had occurred during the siege and ultimate fight:
There were very few casualties before the final assault. She did not know the number.
She confirms that the legendary “line in the sand” incident, where Col. William Travis gave the defenders the choice of staying or leaving, did happen–but at a different time.
She hid inside the chapel and did not see the actual battle.
She saw the body of Davy Crockett between the chapel and the barracks building.
She saw the body of Jim Bowie with two dead Mexican soldiers lying beside him.
She was taken to a house where she’d previously lived, and from there could see the pyres of the dead being burned.
The next day she was taken before Santa Anna, and a soldier convinced Santa Anna to release her rather than imprison her.
At some point after the battle, she has no recollections, only that she wept for days.
Susanna was a strong woman and a survivor, but the memory of those days would haunt her the rest of her life. She sometimes suffered from what she called her “black days”. She married and divorced 4 more times and is reported to have lived in a brothel for a time before she met and married Mr. Joseph Hannig. She and Hannig had a successful marriage until her death in 1883.
~*~*~
In my most recent release, Texas Promise, the hero is a Texas Ranger, and he marries his childhood friend, Jo Cameron. My novels feature brave, strong willed heroines–such as Susanna Dickinson. I’d love to give away a copy of Texas Promise.This novel is in eBook form. I can send the pdf version, or if I can learn how (oh, this new technology!) I’ll send a copy for your Kindle. P&P will choose a winner.
BLURB:
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?
Buy Page Link Texas Promise: Book I-The Cameron Sisters:
I’ve heard it said that you learn something new every day … and today was certainly one of them. To my surprise, when I was reviewing my research for today’s blog, I discovered something new … the chuckwagon wasn’t named for its inventor, Colonel Charles Goodnight!
Colonel Goodnight was the first permanent rancher in the Texas Panhandle. Although he wasn’t a native Texan, he got here as quick as he could. At the age of nine, Charlie traveled with his family 800 miles from his home in Illinois to Waco, Texas, riding bareback on a mare called Blaze. As a youth he was a fairly good horse jockey, bull whacker, rail splitter and herded cattle. He served during the Civil War and was a Scout and Guide with the infamous Texas Rangers. After the war, he devoted his career almost exclusively to cattle.
At the age of thirty, he blazed his first famous cattle trail … the Goodnight-Loving Trail. He was one of the first cattlemen who recognized that the same head worth $4.00 in the Texas Panhandle was worth ten times that in the markets farther north. Goodnight also was the first to recognize that calves born on the trail were money at the end of the drive…but only if they survived and gained weight. The early practice was to kill calves because they could not keep up with the herd on their own. Cattleman Goodnight resolved that issue by contracting to have special wagons made that held 30 to 40 calves. Any calves born on the trail werepicked up by the drovers and put on the “calf wagon” for the day’s drive. When nightfall came, the calves were turned out with their mothers to nurse.
Goodnight soon discovered he had another problem on his hands. A cow knows her own calf by its smell and The Colonel found that when he put different calves together in the “calf wagon” during the day, their scents mixed. Thus, they were rejected by their mamas and would eventually starve to death. He then ordered his drovers to place each calf in its own separate sack, leaving the calf’s head out and tying the sack around its neck. The sacks were numbered so that the same calf went into the same sack each morning after being with its mother at night. The calves rode safely in the calf wagon during the day and spend the night with their mamas. The calves arrived at market healthy and in good shape. That meant increased profits at the end of the drive. I can only imagine what his cattle drives looked like.
Cattle typically follow a lead steer and for many of his drives, Goodnight’s lead steer was “Old Blue”. According to legend, this famous steer helped lead a thousand head 250 miles up to Dodge City. That accomplished, Old Blue then turned around and trotted back home with the cowboys.
Known as the “Pulse of the Panhandle,” Goodnight helped organize the Panhandle Stock Association of Texas to fight rustling. In the 1870’s when it became apparent that the hide hunters would eventually exterminate the buffalo, with the encouragement of his wife, he started his own herd of domestic buffalo. When buffalo products became exceedingly scarce such things as hides, robes, mounted heads and horns became a hot commodity. Buffalo meat was a high-priced luxury.
As time went on, friends began to comment that Goodnight with his mop of shaggy hair over bright dark eyes topped a massive, strong body, which with age, showed a hump rounding his shoulders … became increasing likened to his beloved buffalo. You can decide for yourself from the undoctored, certainly not Photoshopped, picture of Goodnight and a buffalo. He attracted international attention with his breed of “cattalo”, a crossbreed with a buffalo bull and Angus heifer. They could handle the high altitude and sever winters of a buffalo and resulted in a meatier animal. For me personally, a hundred and fifty years later, I’d say they had a buffalo body with the face and horns of a longhorn.
Up to this point, I could have written most of this with very little research. I was born and raised in the Texas Panhandle, so I’ve spent all of my life knowing about Goodnight and his innovative ways of ranching. I’ve visited the town named after him. My upcoming novella in “Give Me a Texas Outlaw” is set in his dugout in Palo Duro Canyon, and I’ve visited his grave many times. But, the one thing he created that I presumed was named from him … the chuckwagon, wasn’t!
Prior to the chuckwagon, Cowboys often relied on eating what they carried in their saddle bags such as dried beef, corn fitters or biscuits. It didn’t take Goodnight long to discover that a well-fed cowboy is a happy one.
Traveling the trail everyday carrying minimal baggage in hot, uncomfortable weather was tough on a cowboy. In 1866, Charles saw his opportunity and began on his new invention – the chuckwagon. He basically redesigned a Studebaker wagon to fit a cowboy’s needs. The Studebaker was a tough Army surplus wagon that could last months of hard driving on the trails. Goodnight designed his very own chuck box, containing a number of shelves and drawers. He fitted this to the back of the wagon and it served to keep the cook’s things in order. The box had a hinged lid, and when the cook (nicknamed “cookie”) shut it, he would have a perfect surface to fix meals on. A water barrel holding a two days’ water supply was also attached to the wagon alongside a row of hooks, boxes, brackets, and a coffee grinder. Goodnight also hung hammock-style canvas under the wagon to carry wood and kindling, which was scarce on the prairies. An additional wagon box was used to carry the cowboys’ bedrolls, personal items, and food supplies. Goodnight’s genius invention is used in cattle drives to this day. By 1880, Studebaker had created a model called the “Round – Up” wagon.
The chuckwagon was equipped with all kinds of supplies needed along the trail. We typically think of a chuckwagon being used for food and cooking gear, but the supplies would also include ferrier and blacksmith tools for horseshoeing or making repairs to the wagon and horse tack. Sewing needles for mending clothing or saddles, first aid and alcohol tonics used for medicinal purposes. Bedrolls and rain slickers for the drovers. One side was equipped with a large wooden barrel to carry a two day supply of water. The other side often had a tool box, as well a smaller attached wooden box in front called the jockey box. Additionally, the wagon would have a canvas cover called a bonnet that had been treated in linseed oil to repel rain keeping items in the wagon dry. To allow headroom in the wagon, bows where added raising the canvas and providing securing points.
Now you know why I figured the chuckwagon was named for Chuck Goodnight, although I have to admit I’ve heard him called “The Colonel”, Charles, and Charlie, but never Chuck.
To my surprise, the name chuckwagon wasn’t derived from Goodnight’s given name, but came from 17th Century England as meat merchants who referred to their lower priced goods as “Chuck”. By the 18th Century, the term “chuck” was communicated towards good hearty food. It is of no wonder to take the name chuck for Goodnight’s simple creativity that revolutionized the cattle industry. I’m presuming here but figure that’s where a Chuck Roast and Ground Chuck got its name.
I couldn’t talk about Charles Goodnight without showing you all a picture of his gravesite as it is today. Some of my writer friends, and my coauthors, never miss an opportunity to visit his grave when we’re near it. The Goodnight Cemetery is on the edge of the Caprock about five miles off the beaten track. It overlooks what was his land and it’s truly one of the most beautiful sights one could imagine. You’d really have to know what you’re looking for to find it.
On a visit about two years ago, we discovered that there were bandanas tied all over the fence surrounding his grave. All kinds, some we could recognize by the markings; commemorative bandanas and organizations, but most were just plain everyday bandanas like those worn by cowboys for centuries, so those who have gone there to tie a bandana to honor the “Father of the Texas Panhandle” didn’t drop in by accident. I’ve tried to research how the practice got started, but could find little about who started it, but thank them.
Do you have any traditions that you’ve observed, but don’t know its origin? I’d love to have you share them with everyone. When the day is done, I’ll pick a reader to receive a copy of our latest anthology, “Give Me a Texas Ranger”.
Have you ever had a place you wanted to visit so badly? I have had plenty. One of them is the National Ranching Heritage Center in Lubbock, Texas. But finally two weeks ago a friend and I visited there. I had wanted to go see it ever since I moved to this area over a year ago. I finally made it and I wasn’t disappointed.
For those of you who haven’t heard of this extraordinary museum, it began in 1970 after a group of people decided to try to preserve slices of history and depict the evolution of ranching life in the state at the same time. A multitude of historical structures were falling into disrepair and ruin and needed to be preserved. Members from the center traveled all over Texas to see which structures they could acquire and bring to the 30 acre site set aside by the Texas Tech University. The first of their acquisitions were a dugout, blacksmith shop, two windmills, and a carriage house.
Currently there are 35 authentic, furnished or outfitted structures depicting ranch life from the 1700′s when we were under Spanish rule all the way up to the 1900′s.
I’ve never seen a museum like this. It was simply amazing to be able to touch the structures built by tough, determined men and women and get a sense of what life was like in those early years. It was like strolling through history.
Especially of interest to note is that the landscaping around each display accurately shows the landscape in the place where each building came from. And when restoration is called for, materials are taken from the same area as the building.
The oldest building is called Los Corralitos and was originally built in 1780 by Don José Fernando Vidaurri. Evidence suggests that it may be the earliest standing ranch structure in the state of Texas. You’ll notice it has no windows and only one door with plenty of gunsights built in the thick walls. That was for protection against invaders. All of the cooking was done outside. This is the first dwelling you see as you start walking the path through the outdoor museum.
The next building we came to was called the El Capote Cabin (c. 1838.) The cabin existed under the governance of three flags: the Republic of Texas, The U.S. of America, and the Confederate States of America. Square-headed, hand-made nails held the cabin together. Leather patches hinged the doors and rope was used for a door handle. The first owner was a French captain in the American Revolution. It was also owned by Theodore Roosevelt and his wife at one time, although they probably never lived in it. The last people to occupy it were probably cowboys who used it as a bunkhouse.
The Matador half-dugout, built in 1888, is situated into an embankment with the only door facing southeast to catch breezes in summer and protect the cowboy from cold weather in the winter. Families didn’t live long in dugouts. They moved out soon as more conventional homes could be built. But even then, the dugouts served as bunkhouses or outposts for cowboys and they could prove to be a lonely place. Few men looked forward to months of solitude stuck in the middle of nowhere.
This next building is the Waggoner Ranch commissary (c. 1870′s.) I found it really interesting that ranches of any size, especially if they were a quite a ways from town, had their own commissary, blacksmith, and windmill man. This building is constructed of rock and wood. It held supplies needed by the ranch cowboys. Very convenient and saved long trips into town.
One of the most amazing pieces of information at the Heritage Center is learning about the different materials used to construct the different buildings. It demonstrates just how adaptable the frontiersmen and settlers were. They had to be ingenious an use whatever they could find when they decided to fashion a dwelling. Where he could find trees he built a log cabin. In hill country, he used river rock and stones. On the flat plains, he simply dug a hole in the ground and put a roof over it. But sometimes he had to really use his wits. In far West Texas there are no trees, no rocks, and the land is sandy so that left only one thing to make a home out of-the yucca-like sotol plant. That’s what this next house is fashioned from.
It’s called the Picket and Sotol House. It was built in 1904 by sheep and goat raisers along the Texas-Mexico border. The thatched roof is made from grasses and had to be continually replaced due to the harsh desert climate.
The last house I’ll tell you about proves a stark contrast to the simple bare dwellings that were so common on the frontier. This is called the Barton House and it was very fancy and luxurious for its day. It was built in 1909 by Joseph Barton. He owned the TL Ranch. He tried to start a town called Bartonsite but when the railroad bypassed him it killed the fledgling town. Everyone up and moved away. His dream died. Standing and looking at the house, I could just feel his deep overwhelming sadness. The house is so beautiful and stands as a testament to the kind of hopes and dreams these settlers had.
I wish I had room to tell you about all of the other buildings but maybe I’ll do some more another time. Each of the structures have so many interesting stories. There was Leanna Jowell who almost lost her life while her husband was away on a cattle drive. She trusted her nagging uneasy feeling, grabbed up her baby and rode hard to a neighbor’s house, barely escaping with her life. When she returned, she found her home burned to the ground. When her husband returned he built a house of solid stone with no windows. It only had a door.
And then there’s John Bunyan Slaughter, owner of the U Lazy S Ranch, who weathered numerous adversities, including prolonged droughts and severe blizzards that killed thousands of his cattle. He died in 1928 after spending the entire day riding in a roundup. He died the following morning. They had his funeral at the big ranch house and folks descended in droves to pay their last respects.
Anyway, this is but a scratching of the surface of all that comprises the National Ranching Heritage Center. If you ever get a chance to come to Lubbock, make plans to tour the facility.
Maybe you have something similar in your area. Do you like to visit places like this and stroll through history?
It’s such a treat to be back here in my old stomping grounds, visiting with the fillies again. I’ve missed you, ladies, and am thrilled to see your blog and your westerns thriving.
I’m still writing the English-set novels but am excited that my earlier Texas-set novels which have been out of print for years now will soon be available (November 9) in electronic format through AvonBooks. With their re-release, I’ve been taking some treks down Memory Lane.
Sweet Lullaby holds a special place in my heart because it was my first book to sell. One night when I was working on it, my husband glanced over my shoulder and saw my hero’s name. “Jake?” he asked. “Couldn’t you come up with a better name than Jake?” All I could do was look at him and say, “Jake is his name.” How do you explain to a non-writer that characters have their own names and you can’t change them willy-nilly? It was quite satisfying the afternoon when I called him at work to let him know that Jake’s story sold. Jake put me on my career path and several years later, when we bought a house, my husband surprised me with a plaque that hangs on our patio. It simply says, “The House that Jake Built.”
Jake gave me my start in this wonderful, wacky, crazy world that we call publishing. Jesse followed Jake. Then Clay, Houston, Dallas, and Austin. I always think of my stories as belonging to the heroes. It’s their journey to redemption and love.
When I began writing Texas-set stories, I wanted to provide as realistic a flavor of Texas as I could. To that end, in Sweet Lullaby, I included a jousting tournament. The pageantry of medieval England became popular in Texas following the Civil War. The tournaments were usually held during Fourth of July picnics or other holidays. The local residents would gather as the young men transformed into knights.
These tournaments were highly anticipated and the young men would not only practice for weeks before the event took place, but they also had special costumes that they wore. Black shirts and trousers were trimmed in silver while plumes decorated broad brimmed hats. In Plano, Texas, it is reported that the men also wore a long sash of colored ribbon with a large rosette positioned where the sash crossed.
In West Texas, the young men would assume a different name such as “Morning Star” or “Black Warrior.” In the Dallas area, the participants represented their location and were announced as “Knight of Plano” or “Knight of Spring Creek.”
The track that the horses ran would vary in length from one hundred to three hundred yards. Five posts were positioned along the length of the course. Each post held a ring that dangled from a crossbar.
The spectators would gather along the track. An announcer would yell, “Knight of Plano! Ready! Ride!” and the first contestant would gallop his horse the length of the track and attempt to catch the ring using his long, spiked steel lance. Each challenger rode the length of the track three times and the one who gathered the most rings was proclaimed the Plumed or Champion Knight. He chose a lady to be his queen for the remainder of the festivities, which often included a ball or a square dance.
The British are credited with bringing this tradition with them when they came to settle in Texas. Ivanhoe was also a popular book at the time and fired many a young man’s imagination.
[Sources: Christmas in Texas by Elizabeth Silverthorne, copyrighted 1990; Plano, Texas, the Early Years compiled by the Friends of the Plano Public Library, copyrighted 1985.]
I still love reading books on the history of Texas. Texas is such a large and diverse state. I love the tough and gritty cowboy. And I love the fillies! Thank you, ladies, for having me visit today.
Anyone who comments today will be entered into a drawing for a $20 gift card from Amazon, B&N, or Borders—winner’s choice. AND three lucky winners will receive a copy of the western anthology My Heroes Have Always been Cowboys.
Happy Trails!
Lorraine
Avon Books is rereleasing all six of Lorraine’s Texas-set historicals! Visit Lorraine’s website,www.LorraineHeath.com, to see the new covers of her westerns, coming November 9, 2010, as well as all of her latest releases fromAvonRomance.
If I could have any superpower, I’d want the power of time travel. I wouldn’t care about going into the future—I’d prefer not to know. But I would LOVE to go into the past. I drive by buildings and wonder what they were like in their heyday. I live in an old city, so there are a lot of old buildings. Depending on my mood, there are different eras I want to visit.
The early 1960s, the era when my mom was young. It’s also the era of Mad Men, and it’s just fascinating to see how different mores were in those days. A lot of the buildings around my neighborhood were built in that era, with the flat roofs and the plate glass, and I would love to see them when they were new.
The 1950s, when my mom was a child. She talks about shopping downtown, and the buildings are still there. I can just imagine her traipsing down the street in her little dress, going to the soda fountain. My dad’s hometown was also thriving in the 1950s, and I would love to experience that small town in that time period. I’d also love to travel Route 66, and stay in those motels along the way.
The post-Civil War era, during western expansion, the time of Laura Ingalls. I devoured those books when I was young, and while I didn’t really care about visiting that time period at the time, now I wonder what it must be like to have experienced that wide-open feeling.
MAYBE I’d want to visit a trail drive. Just for a few hours.
And downtown San Antonio as it recovered after the battle of the Alamo. I’m not sure I’d like to visit the time period that my book, SUNRISE OVER TEXAS from Carina Press, is set, during the time Stephen Austin brought the first families to Texas, when it was still a part of Mexico. The Texas frontier was wild at the time, and the Mexican government wanted it settled. I don’t think I could ever do the things my heroine Kit has to endure.
Time travel would be a fun power to have, but I’d want to return to my own time period, of air conditioning and transportation and hamburgers.
Where would you want to time travel?
MJ will give away a $10 gift card to either Amazon or Barnes & Noble today to one lucky commenter. So get typing!
Our newest anthology “Give Me a Texas Ranger” came out last month, but along with promoting and celebrating a new release, I was knee deep in writing the next of the “Give Me …” series “Give Me a Texas Outlaw”. Of course I’ve had Texas Rangers and outlaws on my mind for months, so what better to write about than a Ranger named Bass Outlaw?
One of my favorite ways to create a character is to tailor them after a real person (preferably none of your family). While visiting East Texas, I found a book about Bass Outlaw, an ex-Texas Ranger short on stature and long on attitude. Bass Outlaw a/k/a Ranger Little Wolf was a moody, strange, and little known Ranger. I mirrored one of my characters in “Texas Ranger”, Muley Mullinex, after him. It was a simple plan for him to be the town’s darlin’ during the day but when he went on a binge he would be my antagonist. However, from the get go Muley proved to be as obstinate on paper as Bass Outlaw was in real life.
Not to be confused with a much better known Ranger, Sam Bass, Bass Outlaw, whose name was thought to be Sebastian Lamar Outlaw was the black sheep of a genteel Georgia family. He had an inferiority complex we might call the “little man syndrome” today, since he was around 5’4” and weighed maybe 150 lbs. His eyes, cold and unfriendly, were pale blue. He sported a mustache best described as bushy, not the heavy, flowing types worn by the likes of Doc Holliday or Wyatt Earp which were the fashion of that era. If it wasn’t for his prowess with a rifle and a pistol he would not like have commanded any attention at all.
Beginning in E Company, Outlaw soon earned a solid reputation for himself as a quick draw with a deadly accurate shot. He could ride with the best, learned readily how to track even the faintest signs and was earmarked as a Ranger with a future. He climbed the ranks and historians have noted that he could have easily become a legendary Ranger such as William J. McDonald and James Gillette, but Bass Outlaw’s hair-trigger temper changed the course of his life … and history.
The personification of a prairie wolf, earned him his nickname, Lone Wolf. He was a loner, never volunteering anything about his past, never asking anyone about theirs. A moody, sullen, often cantankerous individual, he still possessed the qualities the Rangers required in those days on a wild and unsettled frontier. He was brave, wily and determined in battle. Outlaw was unpredictable in that he was either withdrawn or dangerously aggressive depending on his mood … and the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.
His head was on the chopping board more times than not, but generally after a good dressing down, his Captain would decide not to fire the arrogant lawman because of some heroic deed he’d done.
Bass Outlaw, Top Row, Second from Left
Like all lone wolves, his luck ran out. In 1893, after his Company had moved to a remote part of Texas southeast of El Paso, Bass was placed in charge of the unit while Captain Jones was away on business.
One day, after chugging rotgut once too often, Bass left the compound with no one in command and joined a poker game with a former Ranger which lead to his undoing. Bass lost the game and his temper, but had enough sense to know not to shoot up the place. Another former Ranger, Sheriff Jim Gillett, grabbed Bass and pulled him outside, managing to settle the dispute before there was any gunfire.
Needless to say when Captain Jones returned and got wind of the going ons he was furious and fired Bass Outlaw on the spot, ordering him out of camp pronto.
Although it was a mess of his own makings, until Bass Outlaw drew his last breath, he held a grudge against the Rangers. His bone of contention was at first with Gillett, because he thought the sheriff had ratted him out. Later, Bass learned that the lawman had not reported his behavior.
Gillett was spared, as he was not the Ranger that Bass was destined to kill.
Bass Outlaw stayed out of trouble for a while and took on other jobs, including prospecting for gold and hidden treasures. Failing at all, he eventually caught the attention of the El Paso U.S. Marshall, another ex-Ranger, who hired him as a deputy.
Famed Ranger John Hughes predicted, rightfully so, that Little Wolf would someday kill another Ranger. This proved true when Outlaw entered into a squabble with a constable in El Paso by the name of John Selman, after going into a rant over a soiled dove. Outlaw shot him three times. Leaving the saloon, still sullen and dangerous, Outlaw was confronted by a young Ranger, Joe McKidrict, where Outlaw shot him dead. It is reported that was the only incident where a Texas Ranger has ever been killed by an active or former member of the fabled organization.
Ironically, John Selman recovered. Although the gunpowder damaged his vision and he walked with a cane, he killed the infamous John Wesley Hardin in a saloon in El Paso. Two years later, Selman was killed by Deputy U.S. Marshal George Scarborough in another El Paso saloon.
A witness to Bass Outlaw’s demise stated his last sound was a whimper, the kind a wolf tends to make when he knows his time is finished. For Bass Outlaw there were no flowers, no eulogy and no mourners … not even the soiled dove who proclaimed to love him. He was buried in the Evergreen Cemetery in El Paso, and his tombstone reads: “B.L. Outlaw, 1854-1894, 1st Sgt. Co. D. F. B., State Forces, Deputy U.S. Marshall.”
Now you can see why writing Muley Mullinex fought me tooth and toenail all along the way. In “Give Me a Texas Ranger,” I referred to Captain Arrington, Hayden McGraw’s superior. Other than Mullinex, Arrington, and McGraw, do any of you remember the name of a fourth Texas Ranger I used in my story?
I’m givin’ away an autographed copy of “Give Me a Texas Ranger” to the first person posting the correct answer.
Texas history is full of larger-than-life men and women. There was none more compelling in the Old West than Temple Houston, the youngest child of Sam Houston.
Temple carried the distinction of being first child born in the governor’s mansion in Austin, Texas. He never knew his father because Sam Houston died when the boy was only 3 years old. His mother followed four years later when Temple was 7. Upon her death he went to live with one of his sisters.
Of the eight Houston children, Temple was most like his father in temperament and abilities. But he hated being compared to Sam and especially as being Sam’s boy. Temple was rebellious and had a need for adventure. At age 13 he signed on as a cowboy on a cattle drive going all the way to Dakota territory. To get back home, he was hired as a steamboat captain on the Missouri and Mississippi Rivers.
He began studying law and at the age of 19, he was admitted to the Texas Bar. He was well-educated and spoke fluent French and Spanish in addition to seven Indian languages.
None was more flamboyant and unorthodox. The 6’2″, long-haired man was fond of wearing black Prince Albert coats, elegant pinstriped trousers stuffed into high, handsome boots, and white sombreros. Temple was exceedingly handsome, had piercing gray eyes and coal black hair.
He was also a crack marksman. He carried a pair of ivory-gripped, nickel-plated Colts. And he didn’t hesitate to use them. After a courtroom argument with another lawyer, he met the man in a saloon. Houston killed the adversary and promptly entered a plea of self-defense. He was acquitted.
Before his 21st birthday, Temple was appointed first district attorney for the new district court in the Panhandle. He went to the wild, lawless town of Mobeetie where there was no jail. Not long after he arrived he insisted that one be built. While it was being constructed, one convicted cowboy was chained to a rock pillar in one of the town’s saloons. They gave him a blanket and left him in the saloon overnight. The following morning they found the man dead drunk, surrounded by whiskey bottles. He’d torn his blanket into strips and made a lariat. He spent the night roping bottles off the backbar and drinking the contents.
The next year at age 22, Temple married Laura Cross, a planter’s daughter. Seven children were born to them, but only four survived infancy.
Temple Houston was also an excellent defense attorney. At one trial, that of a man accused of murdering a skilled gunfighter, Houston whipped out his pair of Colts, pointed them at the jury, and fired away. Jurors dove out of the box, spectators dove out the window, and the judge ducked down behind the bench. Houston’s attempt to show the lightning speed of the gunfighter in comparison to that of the accused cowboy, even though the cowboy had shot first, was in fact a matter of self-defense. Once courtroom order resumed, Houston apologized for his gunplay, explaining that his own weapons had held blanks. The cowboy was acquitted.
But his most famous case was the one defending accused prostitute Millie Stacey in 1899. His closing summary is still studied by law students today. It’s considered the perfect defense argument and one of the finest masterpieces of oratory in the English language. In his speech which was spellbinding, he proclaimed Millie innocent, saying man was to blame for her shame and that “Where the star of purity once glittered on her girlish brow, burning shame has left its seal forever.” Millie went free, her guilt expunged.
(As a side note, a copy of the speech was framed and hangs today in the Library of Congress.)
A remark for which his is known is “Your honor, the prosecutor is the first man that I’ve ever seen who can strut while sitting down.”
Another time, a judge persuaded Temple to represent a penniless horse thief. Temple promised, “I’ll provide the unfortunate gentleman the best defense I can.” He asked the judge for a private office where he could talk to his client. A little while later, they found Temple sitting alone in the room with the window open. He smiled and remarked, “I gave him the best advice I could.”
Always a restless soul, Houston left Texas for a new frontier and more adventure. He participated in the Oklahoma Land Rush and raced with thousands of other land-hungry pioneers. He brought his family and moved his practice to the new town of Woodward, Oklahoma. His services were in great demand. Before it was over, he became as big a legend in Oklahoma as he was in Texas.
The man who lived life large died of a stroke in 1905 at the age of 45 and was buried in Woodward’s Laurel Land Cemetery. Needless to say, Temple Houston left a huge mark on the legal profession. And though he never reached the historical acclaim of his father Sam, he was a man to be revered.
Doesn’t this sound like a hero right from one of our western romances? I’d like to have known him.
Jim Bowie–a name synonymous with Texas. Most of us know he died defending the Alamo, and that he wielded a big knife that now carries his name. But Jim Bowie was quite an interesting character.
ath of his wife and two young children of cholera in 1833, Bowie became a land commissioner for the Texas-Coahuila government, promoting land settlement in Texas. In May of 1835, Mexican President and General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna abolished that government and ordered the arrest of all Texans doing business in the new capital. In response, Bowie led a small group of Texas “militia” to San Antonio in July and seized a stack of muskets in the Mexican armory there.
ition. William Travis, now a lieutenant colonel, arrived with thirty men on February 3; David Crockett rode in with twelve men on the eighth. The garrison at the Alamo now had nearly 190 men.
