19th Century American Indian Historical Romance

Historical Romance that are set in the 1800’s and are Westerns in the Native American genre

Just Who Is the Medicine Man

by

Howdy!  Howdy!

And Welcome to another terrific Tuesday.  Yay!

Am hoping y’all had a wonderful 4th and are ready to jump back into work, family, and life in general.

Well, I know this is a bit of an odd topic, but I gotta tell you, when I first started writing about the American Indian Medicine Man, I really didn’t have a clue.  All the while I was writing book#1 (She Steals My Breath), I was reading and studying and for those who believe in a bit of the paranormal, I had some help from a spirit medicine man, who came to me during a time of great trauma and who seemed to help guide me through the rough passages.

And so, a few years later and now writing book #5 in the series, I feel I can perhaps write about what I have discovered about these fascinating men.

To the right is a photo of Black Elk, one of the most famous of the Lakota Medicine Men.  This picture was snapped when he was touring Europe with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show.  He became a medicine man when he was only nineteen (I think that’s right — it might have been eighteen, but I think he was nineteen).  The book, BLACK ELK SPEAKS by John G. Neihardt, details his illness and his dream that caused him to become a medicine man.

He was a very handsome man, as well as a defender of his people, and he remained handsome and his people’s defender all his life.

Another book that has done much to bring the mind-set of the medicine man to me is the book, Fools Crow by Thomas E. Mails.  This book, and especially the chapter called “We Medicine Men,” was enlightening to me.  These men were not shaman’s who could be good and do lots of good, or could be the opposite.

Not so the medicine man.  To the right here is a Kiowa Medicine man and his wife and child.  Now, when I first started studying the medicine man, I relied on the observations of George Catlin, who traveled West in the 1830’s and met the medicine men and chiefs and others within the tribe and painted their pictures.

And so I’m going to include here a little of what I have learned in these few years of my study of this subject.  I’m hoping to include this little “write-up” I did of the medicine men in book #5.  So here is where I am today on this subject:

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THE MEDICINE MAN:

Because of my constant study of books in this field, I have become more and more aware of just what was a medicine man in the long ago days, and so I thought I would try to define this word or this man as it was known and used before the turn of the 19th century (the 1800’s).  Also, because the word, medicine, has a different connotation today than what was traditionally meant by an American Indian Medicine Man, it seems only right that I should try my best to define this word, medicine, as it was used traditionally.  Author and painter, George Catlin, tried as best he could to define the word, medicine, and to define the “medicine men,” also.

From his book in the early 1830’s, LETTERS AND NOTES ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITIONS OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS, Mr. Catlin writes:  “The Fur Traders in this country, are nearly all French; and in their language, a doctor or physician, is called ‘Medecin.’  The Indian country is full of doctors; and as they are all magicians, and skilled, or profess to be skilled, in many mysteries, the word “medecin” has become habitually applied to every thing mysterious or unaccountable; and the English and Americans….have easily and familiarly adopted the same word, with a slight alteration, conveying the same meaning; and to be a little more explicit, they have denominated these personages “medicine-men,” which means something more than merely a doctor or physician.”

Note:  The photo to the right here is of a Blackfeet medicine man and his wife.

Mr. Catlin goes on to write that these Medicine Men were of the highest order in their tribes.  He goes on to say this: when the medicine man was called upon to help the sick or the injured, he generally first used roots and herbs as many people today do, too.  But if those failed, Mr. Catlin observed that those men would resort to the use of their “medicine,” or the mystery that each medicine man possessed.  And, each medicine man had his own dress and ritual he would perform over a sick, dying or injured person, using dances, rattles, and singing his song or songs of healing.  Mr. Catlin also made a note that the medicine men of the past used, “magic” to heal, saying he was often successful, and many “mysterious” or “magical” healings occurred because of the medicine man’s skills.

It is in reference to the use of the word, “magic,” that I wish to address more specifically, because this reference I have found, while not a lie, is also not quite true in my opinion.  But, let me explain.

Mr. Catlin was not an American Indian, and so he defined the word in the best way he knew how and he describes a sort of “magic” that he could see was being used by these medicine men.  This is understandable, because Mr. Catlin wrote about what he could see was happening from his own view of the world as he knew it.

However, there are now more recent books on the topic of how the medicine man was able to heal: one of these books is, Fools Crow—Fools Crow by Thomas E. Mails— another of these books is Black Elk Speaks, by John G. Neihardt.  And so we now know that it was not necessarily magic the American Indian Medicine Man was utilizing to heal, but rather it was his devotion and prayers to the Creator who, working through the medicine man, healed the sick and the dying.  In other words,the Creator was healing the sick…through the medicine man.  I do not believe the Creator or God should ever be left out of the equation of healing.

Note: the picture to the left is a Crow man standing outside a medicine tepee.

In the old days, a real medicine man never believed that it was he who was healing the sick.  He was always well aware, as were others within the tribe, that it was the Creator who healed those in need.  And He healed via the Medicine Man.

Again, I quote from George Catlin’s book, LETTERS AND NOTES ON THE MANNERS, CUSTOMS, AND CONDITIONS OF NORTH AMERICAN INDIANS:

“These men…are valued as dignitaries in the tribe, and the greatest respect is paid to them by the whole community;… In all councils of the war and peace, they have a seat with the chiefs — are regularly consulted before any public step is taken, and the greatest deference and respect is paid to their opinions.”

 To the right here is another Kiowa medicine man and his wife.

Before ending, I’d like to say this about the “magic” George Catlin beheld and wrote about.  In delving back into history, I’ve discovered that there were medicine men and medicine women who were so in tune with themselves and nature around them, they appeared to be doing “magic.”  However, to many of these men, what they were doing was to them more common place than what we see in our fast-paced world today.

For instance, I write about the “mind-speak” that all medicine men and almost all scouts could do at a distance or up close.  There is on record an entire council of medicine men who “talked” about and decided upon a course of action without a single word being said nor using hand gestures.  The scout could tune into the vibration of the woods and know when something came into those woods that wasn’t supposed to be there.

I guess today we would say this was magic because we are not used to being this close to nature or even to each other.  And yet, men and women who have been married for a long time often know exactly what the other person is going to say before he/she even says it.  Some even complete sentences for the other.  So, I guess what I’m saying is that I think this “magic” that was witnessed by many people during the 1800’s was, perhaps, to them more commonplace than we would think of it today.

By the way, I am NOT saying magic doesn’t exist or that it wasn’t used, but I do think … from my studies that what we would call “magic” was more common place back then, if only because the people, themselves were so close to nature, to each other and to God.

These medicine men and medicine women could talk to animals, to each other, to plants, to trees and often — according to them — in their own language.   I talk to my plants and they “talk” back to me if I am in a mind to listen to them.  And, sometimes when my attention isn’t even on them, they get my attention and tell me what they need

 

To the right here is Peter Mitchell, Medicine chief during the Ghost Dance.

This actually isn’t a very good picture of him — he was a very handsome man.

From my studies of the past and of these men and women, I find a real devotion to God (each tribe had a different name for God — I call Him in my books, the Creator) and to the people of their tribe.  I once read a story of two Blackfeet Medicine Men who, upon learning that their “medicine” wasn’t working, counselled together and discovered that they were praying using the tobacco given to them by the traders.  Because it was their devotion and love for their people, they decided to once again grow their own tobacco, which they did (having many adventures) and when done, they found they were able to help their people again.

 

Here is another picture of Dust Maker — Peter Mitchell, with his wife.

Well, this is what I have discovered from my studies.  These men had some mysterious qualities, as did many of the American Indians, both men and women.  And this is what I think might be true and so I thought I would blog about it today.

How I wish we had learned from one another instead of what happened.

Let me remind you that my latest effort, She Brings Beauty To Me, is still on sale at a 25% discount…but only for a short time longer.

Please pickup your book here:  https://tinyurl.com/She-Brings-Beauty-To-Me

So, I would love to hear your opinion about his — no matter what it is — so please do come on in and leave a message.  By the way, the site is experiencing some difficulties, making it hard for an author to answer comments.  But, perhaps it will be fixed today.  But, I will check in to see your posts and I will answer if I can and if not, at least I will be able to learn of your thoughts.

 

 

New Release & Give-Away

by

Howdy!  Howdy!

Good morning, or evening!

Yes, indeed.  I have a new release out and it is book #4 in the new Medicine Man series.

And today, I’ll be giving away an e-book copy of the book to a lucky blogger.  Please leave a message.

As I often do when I have a new release out, I post an excerpt of the book, and I’ll be doing this today, also  Just as a mention, my respect for these two characters grew as the story progressed.  Both of them so different, yet both of them had so much respect for each other.

So the excerpt I’ll leave with you today comes at the very start of the novel, and is the Prologue.

 

This is the back blurb for the book:

A woman deserted.  A troubled warrior.  A passion denied. 

  1. When eighteen-year-old Czanna Fehér is forced to flee her home in Hungary, she journeys with her younger siblings and her father’s manservant to Montana in search of her cousin. Mourning for her recently deceased parents, she sings a prayer to the grand, Montana mountains.  From the first moment Stands Strong hears Czanna singing, he is transfixed.  When he meets her, he is captivated as much by her dark beauty as he is by her voice.

But, after the family’s hired guide steals their money and runs, her father’s servant leaves Czanna to go and serve justice to the man, leaving Czanna desolate and in charge.  Being of the gentry class in Hungary, Czanna knows she and her siblings cannot survive in this land without help.  When Stands Strong comes to her aid, she realizes she must trust this man.

Lakota born, though raised by the Blackfeet, Stands Strong descends from a long line of medicine men, but this legacy seems to have skipped over him.  Accepting this, he has become an expert scout.  But, when Czanna attempts to hire Stands Strong as their guide, offering him the “evil gold rock” as payment, he suggests marriage to him instead.  Czanna refuses him, even though the flame of love is burning heatedly in her heart.

Can two people from incompatible cultures ever come together?  Or are their star-guided paths meant only to briefly cross?

Warning:  A sensuous romance that might cause a desire to go West in search of love and adventure.

 

She Brings Beauty To Me

By

Karen Kay

PROLOGUE

Pest, Hungary

The Estate of József and Mária Fehér

Spring 1855

  

“Czanna, hurry.  There is no time to waste!”

“What is it, Frederic?”  Eighteen-year-old Czanna Fehér stepped from her bedroom into the grand hallway on the upper level of her family’s ancestral mansion.  By closing the heavy wooden door against her maid, who still lingered in the room, Czanna ensured her conversation with her brother would remain private.  It was important in these days after the Grand Revolution of 1848.  Even the walls had “ears.”  Indeed, since the revolution for independence had failed, their entire family was constantly on guard against spies.

Taking her brother’s outstretched hand, Czanna rushed with him down the hall, noticing details about the corridor she had always taken for granted: the white, gold-flecked marble flooring; the gold, woolen curtains and the gold hardware holding them in place; the white and gold tiles of the arched ceiling and the white columns with gold trim that supported them.

At the end of the passage loomed her favorite feature, though it stood more exactly outside the hallway.  There at the very end of the pathway stood a heavy gold-flecked glass door, opening up onto a balcony that supported a three-tiered fountain from which water fell down in every direction and at every hour of the day.  At the very top of the white fountain stood the statue of Dacso Fehér, one her noble ancestors.  And, there he reposed, captured in time, ever alert and ready to take action to defend his home, should there be a need.

Yet, she had only a moment to admire the grand walkway and its balcony because Frederic was ushering her toward the third-floor study, a room where they had often played in their youth.  He opened the door, closing it as they both hurried past the large rectangular desk that stood so stately upon a wall-to-wall woolen rug of blue and gold.  Her brother didn’t hesitate in his movements, ignoring the alcove overlooking the estate and guiding her into a corner of the room.  There he paused, and, since Frederic was acting in so clandestine a manner, Czanna prayed the acoustics of the spot would keep their conversation from being overheard.

As soon as they were both seated in the blue-and-gold chairs and were facing one another, she asked, “What has happened?”

Frederic looked cautiously around the room before he murmured, “Our parents have been arrested and are awaiting trial.”

“Arrested?  Awaiting trial?  Surely you jest!”

“I do not,” he said.  “Indeed, it is true.  There is even talk of hanging them both for their part in the rebellion of 1848.”

“No!  It cannot be true!  The new government would never go so far as to arrest a nobleman and his wife.”

Frederic reached out and took Czanna’s hand into his own as though to comfort her.  But, such consolation lasted only a moment before his gaze bore into her own, and he said, “I fear it is no lie.  Now, listen to me carefully.  Someone—and we don’t know who—has reported our parents as part of the noblemen who helped Lajos Kossuth when he was in power in 1848.  As you know, his followers, save some who escaped, have either been imprisoned or executed.”

“No!”  Czanna let out a scream.

“Sh-h-h.  Do not cry out again, Czanna.  Now, listen and hear me well.  I am working with others who supported the Kossuth revolution; we are planning to make an appeal to Emperor Franz Joseph to free our parents.  I believe we will be successful.  But, you must remain strong as I tell you this next part: our entire family, including you and me as well as our little brother and sister, could be hung along with our parents if the appeal does not go well.”

Czanna gasped.  “But, I thought the new government had proclaimed they would support the idea of freedom for all, including all those who supported the 1848 Revolution.”

“Although there is talk of this, it is not true,” replied Fredric.  “Listen carefully.  I was able to speak briefly to our father today, and we both agree you and the rest of the family must flee.  It is for your own safety and the preservation of our family.  You must leave here this very night, and you must take our younger brother and sister with you.”

“Tonight?  Leave Hungary?  Leave the only home I’ve ever known?”

“I fear you must,” answered Frederic.  “Neither I nor our father can envision any other way to keep you and the rest of our family safe.”

Czanna looked away, forcing herself to become calm.  Then, after a moment, she said softly, “Yes, of course.  I am sorry I am so shocked; it is only that—” Her voice broke.  Then, looking up at her brother, she asked, “And you?  You have mentioned our brother and sister, but what about you?  You are coming with us, are you not?”

Frederic glanced away from her, his composure hard, although a muscle twitched in his cheek.  At last, he said, “No.  I am staying here.  I fear I cannot escape with you.  There are people I am working with who also wish to free our parents, and if I am not here to help these people, our parents’ freedom is not assured.”

“Oh, I see.  You are to stay here and help our parents.  And, of course there is no one else who will work harder than you to free them.  Still, if I must leave tonight, how will I ever be able to go away unseen?  Where would I go?”

“To America.  You must go to America.”

“To America?  But, America is so far away, and I hear it is a savage land.”

“Yes, I have been given rumors to believe the same as you,” said Frederic.  “But, there are reasons why America is the only country where our father and I believe you and the rest of the family will be safe.  It is there where you will be able to hide yourself from any Hungarian spies.  I have already spoken to our father’s manservant, Henrik, and I have asked him to accompany you.  He, however, refused the coin I offered him to do it.  He said it is his duty to ensure you and our brother and sister are kept as safe as possible.  He will guide you and shelter you as much as he is able.  He also understands why I must stay here to try to free our father and our mother, and he agrees with our father and me.  He has also given me his solemn word of honor to help you and our brother and sister to reach the American frontier with as little incident as possible.  Henrik will, of course, be bringing his own daughter with him.”

“Yes, of course.  Since she is his only family, she, too, must embark upon this journey.  Although she is barely ten years and four, I believe I shall welcome her assistance very much, especially since our younger sister is still a babe.”

“Yes.  Now, listen well to me.  You and the others are to sail north on the Danube this very night, and once you are out of the city of Pest, you and the others will go by coach to the coast, there to set sail for America.  I have purchased the boarding tickets for you all on a ship sailing from the port there tomorrow.  The name of the ship is on the tickets.  I will now give them to you and not to Henrik.  Count them and ensure there are five.”  Frederic handed her the tickets.

“Yes.  There are five tickets here.”

“Good.  Now, come, I have a private box in this study where I have stored the papers you will need as well as enough gold and silver so you will be able to buy lodging and food.  Keep the money on your person at all times.  I have two strong, but light bags to serve this purpose.  Do not store the coin in a trunk or any other convenience that is separate from you, nor are you to tell anyone, including Henrik, about the treasure you will be carrying on your person.  I’m sorry.  I know this is a heavy burden I am forced to place upon you, but there is no other manner in which to ensure you will be safe from harm.  Never show what I am to give to you to another soul either—not to our younger brother and certainly not to Henrik.  I will give Henrik other monies so he will not suspect that you also carry a treasure with you.  Please bend close for what I am about to show you and tell you.  These very walls may well have ears.  I fear I am placing you now as the head of our family from this day forward.  This family now extends to both Henrik and his daughter.”

“But…about the gold and silver.  I understand what you say about showing it to no one, including Henrik.  However, Henrik has been with our family for his entire life, and he wouldn’t—”

“I trust no one,” interrupted Frederic.  “Someone reported our parents for their part in the revolution—someone who knows us and has access to our parents’ secret papers.  Because this spy is within our midst, we are all in danger.  Do you understand?  We could all be tried for treason and hung.”

“But, Frederic, since our youngest sister, Béla, is only three years old, surely it is possible for her to stay here.  After all, it will be a hard journey for her.  Is there no other way?”

“There is none.  It will be worse for her if she stays, and this is another reason why I spoke long and ardently to Henrik about the need to bring his daughter with him.  I could not have rightly placed you into the position as the head of our family if you also had to act as a nanny for Béla.  Henrik’s daughter, Lilike, will care for Béla, which will leave you free to think clearly about what is best for our family.  Do you have any other questions?”

“I…I—”

“You all must flee…and tonight.  I do not know how much time we have until the palace guards come here to arrest our entire family.”

“I…I can hardly believe it.”

“I know.”

Glancing up at Frederic’s solemn face, Czanna was startled to realize this might be the last time she would ever see her brother, unless…  “Brother, if we are all in danger, then you must come with us.  I beg you.  Come with us.”

“I cannot,” Frederic replied.  “You know I cannot.  I have it in my power to free our parents and clear our family’s name.  This means more to me than my life.  Please understand, I must stay here and fight.  But, you must go.  You must find safety in America.  Lose yourself in the wild western frontier of America.  Do not use our family name.  Trust no one.  And, under no circumstances are you to return to Hungary.”

“Never?”

“Never,” Frederic confirmed, shaking his head.  “I believe it must be so.  There seems to be no empathy in the new government towards those who strove to free the people.  But, do not fear.  There is yet a ray of light in all of this.”

“Yes?”

“Do you remember our cousin Alfred?”

Czanna nodded.  “I do.  He is about ten years older than you, I think.”

“Yes, he is older than I.  Do you remember him being a part of the Revolution, also?”

“Yes, I do,” said Czanna.  “But, he became a Hungarian forty-eighter and escaped into the American West, didn’t he?  I assume he must have changed his name in order to evade capture.”

“Yes, he did,” replied Frederic.  “But, he and I have been writing to one another these last seven years.  I wish I knew where he is located exactly in the American West.  I know only the following: he uses the English name of Old Tom Johnson and he lives within the Glacier Mountains located in the far corner of the Northwest Indian Country.  I have written to him, informing him of what is happening here to our entire family, and I have told him to watch for you and our siblings in the next few years.  But, since I do not know exactly where he makes his home in the Glacier Mountains, I am trusting you—not Henrik— to hire a guide to take you to him.”

“But, why not Henrik?”

“Let me say this one more time: someone who knows us and who has access to our papers betrayed us.  I like Henrik, same as you.  But, I trust no one except you to take our family to safety.”

Czanna nodded.

“Now, I have also written a letter that I will give to you to take to our cousin, whom you may call Tom Johnson.  I am putting this letter into your care to present to him once you locate him; plus, there is one more of our family’s possessions which is, perhaps, the most important of all I have to give you.  Our father begs you to find our cousin and give him this.”  Frederic reached inside his coat to draw out an object carefully wrapped in the finest linen.  Looking around the room, inspecting its nooks and crannies in detail, he then gave the package his attention and unwrapped the linen.

Czanna gasped.  “Why, it’s our…our—”

“Coat of arms, our Crest.  It is worth a treasure, not only because it is made of bronze, gold and silver, but because it is also a seal we must preserve.  Our father instructed me to caution you to hide it well, and, to this end, I have personally created a trap in your trunk where you may hide our seal.  When you at last find our cousin, you are to give our family’s crest to him.  It is important.  The seal must be preserved, even if our country falls.  It will also identify you to our cousin.  Our father wishes you to give our cousin the seal because, if my plea to Emperor Franz Joseph fails, our cousin would then be the oldest living member of our family.  As you well know, it is always the eldest of our family who must bear the responsibility for preserving it.  Seek out our cousin.  He will help you.  Give him my letter and the seal and ask him to help you all to disappear into the rugged country of the American West.  I fear there may well be Hungarian agents who will try to follow you.  Do you understand?”

“I do.  But, Frederic.  How can I go there and leave you here knowing…knowing…?”

Frederic again shook his head.  “I cannot go with you.  Please understand this: my duty is here.  When you arrive in America, send me word of your arrival but say nothing more.  I believe you will need to hire a coach to take you to a settlement called St. Louis.  From there, you can book passage aboard a steamboat that will take you into the depths of the American West.  Our cousin has written to me telling me he has become a fur trapper.  I admit I think it is a terrible occupation, but it is, perhaps, the only livelihood for a man in the ruggedness of America.  At least where he is now, he is not in the line of fire.  Join him there, and once you are safe from harm, use the money I have given you to buy property, if you can.  I will do my best to free our parents.  I cannot emphasize this enough: do not let anyone know you carry with you a treasure in gold and silver, nor tell another living soul about the family crest; you are not even to say a word about this to our siblings, and certainly not to Henrik.”

“But, I must have some money I can easily show and use to buy necessities.  If I am to hire a man to take us to our cousin, I must—”

“Of course you will have to carry some coin with you.  But, what I am giving you to carry on your person is more than mere coin.”

“Oh, yes, of course.  Yes.  I understand now.”

“Hear me well, and do not forget what I am about to tell you: until this is over, you can trust no one who is Hungarian, except, of course, our cousin.  Someone has betrayed us.  Now, remember these words I say to you: do not ever come back to Hungary for any reason.”

“But, Frederic, not ever?”

“Not ever.  Swear this to me now: you are never to return to Hungary.”

“But, what if—?”

“Do you swear?”

Gazing up into her brother’s solemn expression, Czanna nodded and whispered, “I swear.”

“Good.  As you know, our family is one of the noble families who sided with the Revolution.  I do not have the knowledge of what the future holds here.  But, whatever our future is to be, I and our father and mother wish you and our siblings to survive.  Make a new life for yourself, as well as for our brother and sister.  Do you understand?”
Czanna nodded.

“Good.  Now, grab your cloak, gather our siblings together and go!  Outside of what I’ve given you, take nothing else with you.”

“But, my clothes, my shoes, my—”

“They are all Hungarian made.  You must disappear.  You and our brother and sister are to have nothing with you or on you that can identity you as to whom you really are.  Now, Henrik waits outside with a coach.”

Czanna’s brother, who was probably her best friend in all the world as well as being her brother, took both her hands into his own.  Breathing in deeply, he said, “Farewell, Czanna.  I will miss you and the others.  I am sorry to burden you with so much responsibility.  If there were a way to do it, I would take the cares of the world away from you, our sister and our brother.  I, alone, would carry this weight if I could.  But, there is not a manner by which to do it.  I must free our parents.  I will write.  Look for my letters, but do not write back to me except to inform me of your journey and that you have reached America.  Know this: I will never ask where you are and you are never to tell me.  Nor will I ever ask you to go against your word and return to Hungary.  Again, I am sorry I have to burden you with this, but upon your shoulders rests the future life of our family.”

Czanna nodded, looking down and hiding, if only for a moment, the shock as well as the tears in her eyes.  It was at some length when, at last, clearing her throat, she said, “I know and I understand the burden I carry.  Farewell, Frederic.  We will see one another again.  I am certain of it.”

“Let us hope your words will hold true.”

Standing up, Frederic reached out a hand to pull Czanna to her feet.  He hugged her, and, as was tradition, he kissed her gently on each side of her face.  Then, Czanna stood to her tiptoes and, reaching up, returned the endearment.

Shaking a little, Czanna stepped back and, turning away, hurried from the study, rushing toward her younger siblings’ rooms.

“Farewell,” she called as she reached the door.

“Farewell, Czanna,” answered Frederic.  “Godspeed.”

Hail Stone (Crow) and his wife, Alvina.  Although Hail Stone was from the Crow tribe, I simply l love this photo — it looks like they might have met in one of the Wild West Shows.  It is a picture showing the love between two people regardless of their cultures.

Anyway, that’s it for today.  Do leave a comment.  And have a happy day and rest of the week!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can pick up your copy of She Brings Beauty To Me here:

https://tinyurl.com/She-Brings-Beauty-To-Me