Cattle Drives

Biscuits, Beans, and Bacon – What Cowboys Actually Ate

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I’ve spent the better part of the week pouring over research for a new book. And as usual, I find myself going down the rabbit hole…AGAIN!

While looking for authentic Civil War recipes, I happened upon cowboy cuisine, and as much as I love, love, love cowboys, I don’t think I could handle a steady diet of biscuits, beans, and bacon.

The romantic image of cowboys feasting on juicy steaks by a roaring campfire differs from the gritty realities of life on the trail. Beyond the cattle drives, roping skills, and dusty landscapes, lay the daily struggle for survival, and a critical element of that survival, was of course food. What did these men, often far from civilization for months at a time, actually eat?

Beans were the undisputed backbone of trail cuisine for cowboys, favored for their durability and nutrition. Whether pinto or navy, these legumes provided a vital source of protein and fiber, keeping hunger at bay during long rides. Much like today’s camping meals, beans were easy to store, transport, and cook in a single pot over the fire.

Salt Pork and Bacon were prized trail foods, valued for their long shelf life and high calorie content. Unlike the bacon we know today, these cuts were heavily salted and cured, making them tough but ideal for travel. Preserving meat with salt or smoke was essential to prevent spoilage on the dusty plains.

 

Coffee, often called the cowboy elixir, was more than a beverage…it was a daily ritual and morale booster for weary cowboys. Brewed strong and black, coffee provided much-needed energy for long, grueling days. Without fancy equipment, cowboys simply boiled grounds over the campfire, sometimes letting the grounds settle or straining them through a bandana. Often, they used the same pot day after day, thus contributing to the unique flavor of cowboy coffee. (Note: I enjoy a cup of coffee first thing in the a.m. but require my hazelnut creamer or during the holidays, pumpkin pie spice!!!)

When real coffee ran out, they turned to resourceful substitutes like roasted chicory or dandelion roots. These stand-ins provide a warm bitter brew that mimicked coffee’s comfort, if not its flavor or strength.

Dried Fruit, like raisins, apples, or peaches, served as portable treats for the hard-working cowboys. They provided a rare sweetness and vitamins on the trail, breaking up the monotony of the constant savory dishes.

Canned Goods were a rare luxury on the trail, thanks to advancement in food preservation. Occasionally, cowboys enjoyed treated liked canned peaches or tomatoes. However, these items were heavy and expensive, so they appeared only when supply wagons had extra storage space. Still, even a single can could lift spirits and remind cowboys of comforts far from home.

Fresh Game supplemented the cowboys’ diet, its success dependent upon sharp shooting and the abundance of wildlife along the trail. Compared to salted pork or hardtack, rabbits, prairie chickens, or wild birds offered richer flavor and variety to their diet.

Sourdough Bread starters were a trail cook’s secret weapon for baking fresh bread or biscuits on the open range. Kept alive with regular feedings, these starters allowed cooks to whip up hearty, tangy loaves and fluffy biscuits right over the campfire.

Jerky–dried, salted strips of beef or buffalo–was a trail for its portability and long shelf life. ? Packed with protein, it could be eaten on the go, making it perfect for busy days in the saddle, providing energy when time or conditions make cooking impossible.

Molasses and Sugar were precious commodities on the trail, reserved for sweetening beans or biscuits on special occasions. Even a small spoonful transformed otherwise bland food, making them a special treat for cowboys craving a taste of sweetness.

Rice and Cornmeal added much-needed variety to the cowboy diet, often cooked into hearty porridges, grits, or mush. These staples reflected the influence of Southern and Mexican cooking. Cornbread, in particular, was a favorite, easily baked over coals, while rice provided a filling base, helping stretch meager rations even further.

Onions and Potatoes were tossed into stews, beans, or skillet meals, adding vital nutrition and ample flavor to otherwise plain dishes. These hardy vegetables could survive for weeks without spoiling, making them a practical addition to the chuck wagon’s limited pantry.

Dried Chili Peppers and Spices were essential for livening up bland trail food. Mexican vaqueros, in particular, brought the tradition of adding heat and flavor with chilis and seasonings–particularly in the colder weather–transforming meat or beans into a satisfying meal and adding a taste of home to the trail.

 

 

The real diet of cowboys was shaped by necessity, resourcefulness, and sheer grit. From beans and biscuits to foraged greens and rare treats like canned fruit, these simple, rugged meals fueled long days in the saddle and left a lasting imprint on American folklore. Their adaptability in the face of hardship is as legendary as their cattle drives.

Next time you enjoy a campfire meal, remember the inventive spirt of the Old West–and try adding a cowboy twist to your own menu!

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Coming next month…

“Your journey doesn’t have to end in disappointment.”

Lila Hartley had waited for hours on the frozen train platform, a mail-order bride no one came to claim, her trunk beside her like a tombstone. The man who’d promised her marriage, a home, and a future, left her stranded two thousand miles from Boston with nothing but the clothes on her back and a heart full of shattered dreams.

Just when hope was fading, a man emerged from the white curtain of snow like an apparition, took off his coat, and changed her life.

Clay McCallister viewed every woman who had taken a chance on the frontier as the sister he’d failed…a woman who’d risked everything for the possibility of something better, much like the woman standing on the platform in the bitter cold.

Sometimes warmth doesn’t always come from fire — sometimes it comes from the heart.

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Margaret Borland: Rancher, Survivor, Trail Driver

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I’m constantly amazed at the larger-than-life men and women who settled the western states and Texas. Men and women who, despite great personal sacrifice, became a strong symbol of extraordinary strength and courage. The ghosts of those people hover around us to this day with a reminder to keep carrying the torch they lit for us long ago.

One such woman gave her all and scrawled her name across the land – Margaret Heffernan Borland. It’s fair to say that life dealt Margaret a poor hand, but she didn’t stand around crying and moaning. She anted-up and made things happen each time adversity came calling. I admire this woman’s tenacity and pure grit so much.

Margaret was five years old when she arrived on the first ship bringing Irish colonists to Texas in 1829. Her family settled on the wild prairies around San Patricio, but her father died in an Indian attack a few years after they put down roots. Then they found themselves in the crosshairs of the Texas Revolution. Margaret’s mother fled with her children to the fort at Goliad. When the Mexican army won the battle of Goliad, it’s said they escaped the massacre by speaking Spanish so fluently that the officers believed them to be native Mexicans. After the war, the Heffernan family returned to San Patricio where nineteen-year-old Margaret met and married Harrison Dunbar. Shortly after the birth of a daughter, Harrison was killed in a pistol duel on the streets of Victoria. Margaret found herself a widow and single parent at the age of twenty.

A year later, she married again, this time to Milton Hardy and they settled down to ranch on 2,912 acres of land. Margaret gave birth to a son and three daughters, one of whom died in infancy. Again, tragedy struck and her second husband along with her young son succumbed to cholera. She was left with one daughter.

In the four years that followed, she worked the ranch near Victoria and raised her children. Then she met Alexander Borland. He was one of the richest ranchers in South Texas. After a short courtship, she married him and bore this husband four children. In 1860, Alexander and Margaret Borland owned 8,000 head of cattle and they began to hear about trail drives from Texas to Missouri and beyond. They dreamed of together taking a herd to northern markets. But before they could realize their dream, Alexander died in a yellow fever epidemic. Despite Margaret’s best efforts, she was unable to halt the terrible toll yellow fever took on her family. Before it was over, in addition to her husband, she buried three of her daughters, a son, and an infant grandson. Only three children out of nine survived. I’m sure this rocked the very foundation of her soul. She’d given Texas almost everything she had.

After the devastating loss, she threw herself into running the ranch and managing the huge herd of livestock alone. Yet, tragedy again struck. A great blizzard swept down upon the plains during the winter of 1871-1872 and tens of thousands of Texas cattle froze to death, their carcasses dotting the landscape. The storm took a huge toll on Margaret’s herd. When early spring rolled around, Margaret weighed her options. In April 1873, she concluded that her only choice was to drive 2,500 head of the cattle that weathered the blizzard up the famed Chisholm Trail where she could get $23.80 per head compared to $8.00 in San Antonio. But no woman had ever driven a herd up the trail by herself.

Although Margaret was 49 years old, she never backed down from a challenge or doing what she felt in her gut she must. She gathered her three remaining children (aged sixteen, fourteen and eight,) a six-year-old granddaughter, her 25 year-old-nephew, and with a handful of hired drovers embarked on the long, grueling trip. It took them two months to reach Wichita, Kansas. Upon arriving, Margaret and the children took a room at a boardinghouse, The Planter House. Word quickly spread through town of the amazing feat she’d accomplished. The newspaper wrote articles about her saying she had “pluck and business tact far superior to many male trail drivers.” One article remarked that she had “become endeared to many in town on account of her lady-like character.”

Before Margaret was able to complete the sale of her cattle, she took ill. On July 5, 1873, the woman who’d spent her entire lifetime staring down the barrel of calamity and misfortune died in her room at The Planter House in Wichita. Speculation quickly spread that she died from “brain congestion” and “trail driving fever.” Whatever that was. It sounds like something quickly made up by men who envied her accomplishment. Cause of death was never determined but doctors today think she contracted meningitis. Here’s a map of the trail and you can see it went right across dangerous Indian Territory.

Compliments of artist Jose Cisneros

The nephew was saddled with the difficult task of getting her body home in addition to the children. She’s buried in the Evergreen Cemetery in Victoria, Texas.

The woman who’d once single-handedly managed over 10,000 head of cattle, and did it quite expertly, became a legend up and down the Chisholm Trail. She overcame such adversity and is revered to this day for her courage and strength to take what life handed her and make the best of it.

I always love when I find little gold nuggets like this that add depth and emotion to my books. History is full of these remarkable pioneers who did the impossible and etched their stories in the sands of time. They’re just waiting for us to stumble across the indelible marks they left.

I ran across Margaret’s story when I researched for  THE HEART OF A TEXAS COWBOY about cattle drives. CLICK HERE The story revolves around Houston Legend and his attempt to take two thousand head of longhorns up the Great Western Trail to Dodge City. I reference Margaret Borland in this book and her fame provides Houston’s new wife, Lara, ammunition in attempts to convince him to let her go along. He does but soon regrets it, when two days out, he discovers three shadowy riders trailing them. Soon, their very survival is left in question. This was one of my favorite stories to write but please note, this is not a sweet romance. There are a few love scenes.

I’m giving away an ebook copy only of my current book, Cade’s Quest to two commenters. Just tell me if Margaret Borland’s story touched you in any way. Would you have attempted what she did?

 

The Women Who Ran the Range and a Giveaway!

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Howdy, y’all! Heather Blanton here. I’ve got a new box set out this week from my Burning Dress Ranch series. The Burning Dress is a ranch run by women for women. Some would think that’s a tall tale. A woman can’t run a ranch.

If you think that, you’ve never met Kittie Wilkins, Margaret Borland, or Ellen Watson, to name a few ranching pioneers.

From the late 1880s and into the 20th Century, Kittie Wilkins was quite literally the Horse Queen of Idaho. At one point she had a herd of over 10,000 fine animals. And fine was the name of her game. Kittie’s horses were spectacular.

 

Her father was a horse trader. She picked up the skill from him and ran with it. She had an uncanny eye for horse flesh, a strong work ethic, a quick mind, and–probably most importantly–the respect of her ranch hands. Kittie is credited with negotiating the largest horse trade in US history. In one deal, she sold 8000 horses to England for use in the Boer War. She was also a darling of the press because of her business acumen and feminine ways.

 

In 1873, Margaret Borland owned a good-sized spread in Texas, but cattle in Texas weren’t worth much. About $8 a head. Up the road in Kansas, though, beef was bringing $23 a head! Margaret, not being a dummy, defied convention and organized her own cattle drive. What’s more, she also served as the trail boss! But she arrived at this situation more out of necessity than desire.

Widowed three times, she had to step up repeatedly if she wanted to keep her ranch running and her children fed. Each tragic death solidified in her the fortitude to fight on, as well as offered the opportunity for her to learn the cattle business. Surviving these trials by fire, Margaret became the only female rancher to run a cattle drive up the Chisholm trail.

And then there’s Ellen Watson, a young woman who took advantage of the Wyoming Homestead Act and procured 160 acres for herself in 1887. With Jim Averell, most likely her secret husband, she filed for squatter’s rights on land adjacent to his and continued expanding her herd. Jim ran a restaurant and general store, but Ellen tended to the ranch with the help of a few reliable hands.

Ellen was becoming a successful rancher when she ran afoul of neighboring cattle baron Albert Bothwell. Bothwell coveted Ellen’s land and eventually, his greed led to her death. Ellen and Jim were lynched by Bothwell in July of 1889. To protect the wealthy cattlemen involved in the murders, the press dubbed Ellen “Cattle Kate” and declared her a cattle thief and prostitute.

They might have taken her ranch, her life, and her reputation, but they didn’t take away her accomplishments as a fine rancher.

Women like these inspired Burning Dress Ranch. Everything the women do in my stories, from wrangling cattle to shoeing horses to bending iron on an anvil is real, true history. Just like my historical heroes, my fictional heroines come away with a new vocation, a bright future, and their happily ever after!

So, what do you think? Are women every bit the rancher a man can be? Maybe with different expectations and parameters? Is the idea believable?

 

The Burning Dress Ranch Box Set of all five books is available now, but for your chance to win it, leave a comment and tell me what you think about these feisty, determined women.

I’m giving my box set away to 5 lucky commenters!

You can find the box set on Amazon

Welcome Guest – Janalyn Voigt

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Singing the Cattle

Imagine yourself spending long hours in the saddle watching cattle tear at prairie grasses. You munch on a biscuit pilfered from the cook wagon at breakfast and cool your face in the breeze that descends along with evening. The light fades into dusk, but you can still make out the darker hulks surrounding you. The herd seems calm, at least for now. You release a sigh but remain vigilant. Anything—the boom of thunder, a glint of lightning, the scent of a predator, even a stick breaking—could spook the feral cattle. Beginning with a low rumble, a stampede (or stompede as they were more colorfully called), could reach a ground-shaking roar in no time. The only way to stop the panicked cattle was to herd them into running in one direction while other riders raced to take the lead. Turning the fleeing herd in on itself forced it to slow and stop.

A stampede during the daytime was bad enough, but one at night was worse than awful. It took a lot of courage to plummet at top speed through the darkness, relying on your horse to see better than you. Simply staying on while your horse leaped obstacles and dodged prairie dog holes took courage and skill. If you caught up to the herd without breaking your neck, you still had to flank and turn it in the blackness. With each plunging beast weighing five hundred pounds or more, this was no easy task even in broad daylight. Suffice it to say that riding night herd gave you a special interest in keeping things peaceful.

A hat brim gleams, hooves thud, and a silvered tale flicks as the other ranch hand circling the herd in the opposite direction comes into view. His song starts low and gains in volume until it vibrates the air. You join him in “singing the cattle.” It’s a known fact that cows find human voices comforting, and in truth so do you. Any calming song will do. Church hymns come and go, and then gusty renditions of “Old Dan Tucker,” “Git Along Little Doggies,” and “The Cowboy’s Lament.” You trade off singing verses but eventually tire and drop out to rest for a time while another cowboy takes your place. You swap again. As the night wears on, your singing fades to humming. The motion of your horse lulls you into a state between waking and sleeping. Now and again, you jerk upright in the saddle and join the song once more.

Cowboy Proverbs

· If you ain’t made up your mind, don’t use your spurs.

· If your horse don’t want to go there, then neither should you.

· How to ride a horse: First, you mount the horse. Second, you stay mounted.

· Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear, or a fool from any direction.

· When you lose, don’t lose the lesson.

· Always drink upstream from the herd.

· Just because it’s a well-marked trail, doesn’t mean whoever made it knew where he was going.

Click Cover to Order

Note from Janalyn Voigt: I discovered and fell in love with “singing the cattle” while researching ranching in Montana for The Whispering Wind (Montana Gold, book 6). I included the practice in my book as a tribute to the cowboys of the open range.

The Whispering Wind

Phoebe can have her pick of suitors but never the man she wants.

Fancy parties and embroidered fans hold little appeal for Phoebe Walsh. She would rather gallop across the open range or help her father with a wounded calf. Of her many admirers, none spark her interest. Ma seems determined to save her from becoming a spinster, but how can Phoebe accept her mother’s choice of suitors when her heart belongs elsewhere?

Several years have passed since Will Canfield stole a kiss and her heart. Remembering her passionate response still curls her insides, but how she feels doesn’t matter. Will’s interest in her isn’t serious, as he’s made clear. She needs to get over the man. If Uncle Con will stop throwing them together, that could be a whole lot easier.

Will feels guilty about Phoebe, but he can’t risk another heartbreak. Being left at the altar certainly changed his mind about romance. Phoebe is better off marrying someone else, even if the idea sets his teeth on edge.

Phoebe and Will must both, with God’s help, conquer an old fear before they can move ahead with their lives. Set during a troubled time in America, the Montana Gold series explores faith, courage, and love in the Wild West.

 

Giveaway!

Janalyn is giving away an autographed print copy of Hills of Nevermore, Book 1 in the Montana Gold series to one person who leaves a comment today.

What is your favorite cowboy proverb – either from her list or from your own repertoire?

Janalyn Voigt’s father instilled a love of literature in her at an early age by reading chapters from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Robinson Crusoe and other classics as bedtime stories. When she grew older and her father stopped reading stories at night, she continued putting herself to sleep with tales she ‘wrote’ in her head. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Janalyn became a voracious reader, something she credits with teaching her to write. She trained as a classical vocalist, which explains why her writing is often described as musical.

When she’s not immersed in one of her story worlds, Janalyn can usually be found weeding the garden, spending time with her family, or reading. Find out more about Janalyn Voigt: janalynvoigt.com

My Latest Release is Out!

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It’s an exciting week for me – the release of my first Love Inspired Suspense – WILDFIRE THREAT was the 24th. Whoo, hoo! I loved every moment of writing this book, and I realized why when I recently gave an interview. So many things about Wildfire Threat are very personal and special for me, and not just because it’s my first Love Inspired Suspense.

I’ve been writing for Harlequin a long time. I admit it, I sometimes don’t have to work as hard as other authors to land a new contract. My editor knows me and can depend on me to deliver a book in good shape and on time. But when this opportunity came around, I had to work hard for it and go up against a lot of other authors. There was no golden ticket or cutting to the head of the line. When I got the call, I felt really good. My hard work paid off.

Purchase Wildfire Threat

As you can guess from the title, the story is about a wildfire. In this case, it’s headed straight for the fictional Arizona small town of Happenstance. For many, many years, we owned a small vacation home in Young, Arizona, a place that’s considered the most remote town in the state. One year, a wildfire came close enough we could watch it from our front porch. That inspired the book that became my first Harlequin sale about a Hotshot. About ten years ago, the Young fire came “this” close to destroying the town. Yes, it was the inspiration for Wildfire Threat.

My son, an avid outdoor enthusiast, helped me brainstorm the book. We had several long sessions where we tossed ideas back and forth. Okay, I tossed ideas out there, and he told me why they wouldn’t work. He is the source for much of my information about herding cattle and driving trucks and ATV through the burning wilderness.

Lastly, the heroine’s grandfather suffers from dementia. My own sweet mother, who I lost last year, suffered greatly from this terrible disease. It did my heart good to write about the love and devotion my heroine has for her grandfather, the tender, kind and respectful way my hero treats the older man, and how the family copes — which isn’t always easily. Writing the grandfather allowed me to honor my mother in a small but meaningful way.

To celebrate the release, I’m having a giveaway — one of my coffee mugs, a Starbucks gift card, some author bling and couple of previous books. To enter, you just have to make a comment. That’s all.

For anyone interested joining my newsletter, you can email me at: cathymcdavid@yahoo.com It’s not necessary for entering this giveaway. Just if you’d like to keep up on the latest news about me.

Thank you for letting me share my good news with you and tell you about my newest book.

Hugs,

Cathy McDavid

A Cowboy is an Appetite Ridin’ a Horse – by Pam Crooks

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Almost all of my western romances revolve around cattle or cattle drives, one way or another.  Having grown up in western Nebraska, cattle were everywhere, a common sight along the interstate or highway.  Roll down the car window and get a whiff?  Ah, we used to say.  Smell that money.

But cattle need cowboys.  And cowboys need to be fed.  On cattle drives, the chuckwagon cook spent his days feeding an outfit of fifteen or twenty hungry men.  His wagon became their home away from home, a place to gather in the middle of nowhere.  It was here a man could get warm by a fire, swap a tall tale or two, and fill his belly before hitting his bedroll for a short night’s sleep.

He’d wake again to the smell of strong coffee. His meals were three squares of beef, sourdough biscuits and coffee.  Maybe a dessert of raisin pudding, a popular standby.  Or dried apples.

Cowboys loved sourdough and so did the cook. He started the sourdough before leaving the ranch, mixing flour, salt and warm water in a crock twice as big as the mixture.  He added a little sugar or molasses to help it ferment, and voila!  Sourdough starter. Cared for right, (warmed in the sun to aid fermentation and replaced what he used with more flour, salt and water) a cook could keep sourdough going for eternity.

Pretty amazing if you think about it.  Versatile, too.

Since today is National Apple Pie Day, how about a cowboy’s version of apple pie on the range? I’m happy to share an authentic chuckwagon cook’s recipe for Dried Apple Cakes.

  • 3 cups dried apples, chopped
  • 4 cups water
  • 1 cup sugar
  • –Dry Baking Mix as follows–
  • 2 cups flour
  • 1 Tb. Sugar
  • 1 Tb. Baking powder
  • 1 tsp salt
  • 1/3 cup lard or shortening
  • Sift or mix dry ingredients.  Cut in lard or shortening until mixture resembles fine meal.
  • —
  • 1 1/2 cups Sourdough Starter (recipe below)
  • 1/2 cup brown sugar
  • 1 tsp cinnamon
  • 1/2 tsp nutmeg
  • 1/4 cup butter

Cook dried apples in the water until tender.  Drain and save the juice.

Measure 2 cups juice, adding water if needed.

Mix 1/4 cup sugar with the above recipe of Dry Baking Mix.

Stir in Sourdough Starter to moisten flour.  Turn onto a floured surface and knead lightly. Pat or roll to a 12 x 18 inch rectangle.

Sprinkle with apples.  Roll, starting at short end.  Cut into 12 slices. Put remaining sugar, brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, butter and the 2 cups apple liquid into a large deep skillet.

Bring to a boil.  Gently lower slices of apple-sprinkled dough into hot syrup.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for 35 – 40 minutes.  Makes 12 servings.

Sourdough Starter

  • 1 quart lukewarm water
  • 1 pkg dry yeast
  • 2 tsp sugar
  • 4 cups all-purpose four

Put water in large crock. Add yeast, sugar and flour. Cover with a clean cloth. Let rise until mixture is light and slightly aged, about 2 days. As you use the sourdough, replace it with equal amounts of flour and water.

What is your favorite apple recipe?  Have you ever worked with sourdough before?

Tell me if you love (or hate!) apples and you can win an e-book copy of UNTAMED COWBOY, Book 1 of my C Bar C Ranch series.

http://amzn.to/2TPWiJg

Carina Lockett is driven to build a legacy for her young daughter, and she doesn’t need a man to help her do it.  But when her precious child is lured away and held for ransom, she must swallow her pride and ask for Penn McClure’s help.

Penn McClure has no intention of playing cowboy for any woman, especially one as strong-willed as Carina.  But driving a herd of cattle to Dodge City is no easy task.  And he has a score to settle with the man waiting for them at the end of the trail.

Along the way, he discovers Carina is pure female–and that her legacy has become his own.

BUY on Amazon

 

 

A Bridge for 1000 Hooves

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I love learning historical tidbits, and getting to see pieces of history still standing is even better. Last month, my daughter and I met in Waco for a girls getaway weekend. Now that Bethany is working on her PhD at Texas A&M, I don’t get to see her very often, so we started a tradition of getting together for a weekend each semester.

She loves history as much as I do, so we skipped the shopping at the Magnolia Silos in favor of touring historic homes and walking along the Brazos River to visit the Waco Suspension Bridge. Unfortunately, the bridge was closed to the public for refurbishment, but we still managed to get a few pictures.

What is really fascinating about this bridge, however, is it’s history. It wasn’t built for man, you see. It was built for cattle.

In the mid-1800s, cattle was king in Texas, and cattle drives along the Chisholm Trail were essential for bringing those cattle to market. However, crossing the Brazos River was a difficult endeavor. No bridges spanned this river across central Texas, so trail bosses had to find shallow places to cross. With the unpredictability of Texas weather, those places became moving targets. One of the most stable locations to ford was Waco.

At the Civil War, Texas granted a charter to a private company called the Waco Bridge Company and promised them a monopoly on transportation across the river for 25 years if they would build a bridge. No other bridge could be built within five miles. The company hired New York civil engineer Thomas M Giffith to begin plans for the bridge in 1868. Griffith was a skilled engineer, having designed the first bridge to span the Mississippi in 1854. Griffith opted to build a suspension bridge and brought parts in by oxcart. His bridge was completed in 1870, and at the time was the longest suspension bridge west of the Mississippi.

The Waco Suspension Bridge wasn’t only used for cattle drives, of course. It became the main crossing point for travelers of all sorts and allowed Waco to become an economic capital for central Texas. Not only did the bridge bring merchants, farmers, and ranchers into Waco, but the bridge itself became an economic boom. The charter granted the Waco Bridge Company permission to charge a toll. Pedestrians paid five cents, and those on horseback or in carriages were charged ten cents. Any loose cattle or livestock cost five cents per head. The Waco Bridge Company reported that it made approximately $25,000 each year in collected tolls and paid off its mortgage in the first year of operation.

Tolls were collected from a bucket that would be lowered from one of its towers. If you look at the bottom right of the above photograph, the brick section with steps leading outside was where the toll keeper and his family  lived. As one would expect, this toll quickly became unpopular. The county eventually bought the bridge for $75,000 and then sold it to the city for $1 with an agreement in place that the city would eliminate the toll and maintain the structure.

Eventually, the monopoly time frame expired and other bridges sprang up. Bethany and I saw remnants of a railroad bridge platform as well as a trestle bridge that was built in 1901. The trestle bridge had a section open to foot traffic, so we walked across that bridge and got some lovely shots of the river.

With all the traffic coming across the suspension bridge, enterprising local merchants figured out how to take advantage of this prime real estate. As you can see in the picture below, large advertisements hung from the the brick walls.

In 1913, citizens decided they no longer cared for the unattractive bridge since other options were available and asked for it to be torn down. Thankfully, the city preserved this historic bridge, choosing to beautify it by stuccoing over the brick and replacing the wooden trusses with steel. Cars were permitted over the bridge until 1971. Since then, it’s been open to pedestrian traffic only.

In 2010, however, cattle once again made their way across the Waco Suspension Bridge. During the Chisholm Trail Festival, cowboys herded 40 longhorns across the bridge to commemorate this fascinating piece of Texas history.

Do you find old bridges romantic or nerve-wracking?

Do you have any historic bridges in your area?

The Ghosts of Old Tascosa

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I hope you’re doing some fun things this summer. A few weeks ago, I drove thirty miles from where I live to what used to be only one of three towns in the entire Texas Panhandle. Tascosa used to be a thriving, but very dangerous, town that at its peak boasted 350 people. It was settled in 1876 by an ex-soldier and blacksmith named Henry Kimball and it became the assembling point for the Tascosa/Dodge City Cattle Trail. Surrounded by large ranches, the town quickly became known as the Cowboy Capital of the Plains and was an economic rival of Dodge City, Kansas.

It also became a place where outlaws and bad men outnumbered the law-abiding sort.

Here’s an adobe schoolhouse (built 1911). It’s the oldest one of adobe in Texas.

Due to the town being only thirty -five miles from the New Mexico line, Billy the Kid used to rustle cattle and bring them to Tascosa to sell. He made the trip many times. His campground is still marked today in a shady spot near a creek.

Pat Garrett was another regular to frequent Tascosa that in 1879 had a population of 150 with only 8 English speaking women who were not employed in the considerable brothels and saloons.

Inside of two years, there were twenty-eight deaths caused by shootings and Boot Hill saw much activity. Here’s the picture I took and the restored markers. I think it’s the first Boot Hill cemetery I’ve ever been in.

A post office opened in 1878 and in 1880 the county of Oldham (only the second county in the entire Texas Panhandle) was formed and a stone courthouse was built. That courthouse is still there and they’ve turned it into a museum. Here’s the picture I took during my visit.

Despite the lawlessness, romance was alive and well. A mysterious saloon girl and gambler named Frenchy fell deeply in love with Mickey McCormick who owned one of the saloons. They married and from then on, the two became inseparable. This huge, deformed tree and marker is all that remains of the spot where their adobe house sat.

         

Mickey died in 1912 and Frenchy walked to visit his grave every day—even after the town died and everyone moved away, she remained. She lived alone in the ghost town by herself with no running water or electricity for twenty-seven years, grieving for Mickey. Finally, in poor health and her house falling around her, the woman whose real name they never knew or where she was from let them move her to the nearby town of Channing where she stayed a little over a year before dying in 1941. As per her wishes, they brought her back and laid her to rest next to her beloved Mickey.

Other ghosts reside there also—like Ed King, Frank Valley, Fred Chilton, and Jesse Sheets who were killed in a gunfight in the wee hours of March 20, 1886.

The ghost town was bought by Julian Bivins who turned around and donated it to the Cal Farley Boy’s Ranch in 1939. The town sits on this private land and I believe the thousands of boys(and now girls also) who’ve lived there have purged the voices of the ghosts. I didn’t feel any restless spirits. Although it is on private land, they welcome visitors.

If you’ve read any of my Outlaw Mail Order Brides, you’ve seen the town of Tascosa in the stories. Here’s one segment in Tally Shannon’s point of view from Book 1 – The Outlaw’s Mail Order Bride:

Life was full of ups and downs, and this wasn’t the worst that they would face. She’d heard the men talk about a bounty hunter Ridge had seen in Tascosa and the reward poster the man had been showing around. Foreboding told her the worst still lay in front of them.

Have you ever been to or read about a ghost town? I’m curious what you thought. I would love to have seen Tascosa at its peak but I wouldn’t have wanted to live there. Too rough for me!

 

STAMPEDE! ~ Pam Crooks

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http://amzn.to/2TPWiJgIn UNTAMED COWBOY, my heroine, Carina Lockett, is a cattle woman who owns the C Bar C Ranch. Unfortunately, she is blackmailed by the father of her precious daughter for a huge sum of money, her entire herd of cattle. To get  her daughter back after she’s been kidnapped, Carina must drive the herd to Dodge City and pay the ransom with the sale money.

Enter Penn McClure, one of her ranch hands who has burning revenge for the man blackmailing Carina. Penn is only too happy to help Carina get to Dodge City and settle his score.

Now, my friends, cattle drives ain’t easy. All kinds of things can go wrong and usually do. One of the worst is a stampede. 

You wouldn’t think animals weighing a thousand pounds each would get scared of the littlest thing, but they do. A rabbit, a fox, a coyote–or even the strike of a match on a quiet night–could spook the herd and send them running. And that’s exactly what happens in UNTAMED COWBOY.

Here’s an excerpt:

The cattle had turned themselves around and were heading south, losing the ground they’d gained all day. He had to get to the front of them and turn the leaders so the rest would follow. Their hooves hammered against the ground, surrounded him with a deafening roar. Dust clouded his vision, thickened in his throat, but he lay over the gelding’s neck and rode even faster.

In the moonlight, those three thousand head of wild-eyed, horn-swinging cattle were a dark mass of terrifying power. Penn hoped fervently none of the men would be trampled. Or gored. One wrong move, and it could happen. It’d be easy, so easy. Dangerous for anyone, but especially a woman…

He closed his mind to Carina Lockett, to the worry that she was out here with him and the rest of her outfit. He pressed on, at last passing the thundering longhorns. Moving in amongst them, he swung his bullwhip again and again, aware if his horse found a prairie dog hole, or a hidden ravine, he’d go down, stomped to his death by those heavy hooves.

Yelling, relentless, he fought to turn the animals into the center of the herd. Then, to the side of him, there was Woollie, Stinky Dale and Jesse, and damn it, the she-boss, too, lashing her quirt, as desperate as the rest of them to get her herd to shift direction.

Finally, finally, the cattle began to veer into a wide circle, changing their straight run into a giant wheel of heaving cowhide. The switch got them bellowing to one another in confusion, and relief flowed through Penn at the sound, a sign their stampede was nearing an end. Gradually, they slowed and shuddered to an exhausted halt.

Penn halted, too. Breathing hard, he vowed vengeance on the night-herders responsible. Orlin Fahey was one, and he’d better have one hell of a good reason for those steers to run like they did.

The stampede is a crucial point in the book and sends Penn and Carina’s relationship in a whole new direction. A romantic one, of course!

Like with most all disasters, someone was responsible, and I hope you’ll read UNTAMED COWBOY to learn more about the stampede that made all hell break loose for Penn and Carina.

http://amzn.to/2TPWiJg Amazon

#kindleunlimited

 

Let’s Chat!  Have you ever done something that created havoc?  

Has someone in your family? Or a pet?

 

I’ll go first. This winter, while visiting my sister in New Mexico, our Golden Retriever had to potty at 2:00 am. I put him off for a solid hour, but by 3:00 am, the poor dog just had to go out. When I opened the door to their patio, their alarm system went off. Lights flashed and sirens peeled. Their dog barked. The kids got scared. My brother-in-law came running toward me in his underwear . . . I felt awful, and I was so embarrassed. Yikes!

Linda Ford: John Ware, Gentle Giant & Book Giveaway

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Thank you to Petticoats and Pistols for inviting me for a visit. Today I want to share a memory with you.

When I was a child, my father took us to what is now known as Dinosaur Provincial Park which consists of badlands along the Red Deer River south of our home. There he showed us a rough log cabin and said it had been the home of John Ware—a famous Black cowboy. He told us about the cowboy and it sounded so brave and wonderful. Since that day, I have had an interest in this unusual man.

John Ware was born a slave on a South Carolina plantation in 1845. He was freed at the end of the civil war in 1865 and set out to join a Texas cattle drive. John Ware was a big man and strong…by all accounts, a gentle giant. When he was freed he had a debt to settle with the plantation owner. He caught the man and led him to the whipping tree where John and many of his friends and family had endured the wrath of this man. But he set his ex-master free. John preferred peace to violence.

By 1882, he was an experienced cowboy and was hired by the owners of the newly-formed North-West Cattle Company at the Bar U Ranch to drive cattle into Canada. Once the cattle reached the ranch, John was asked to stay on. It seems he ate as much as two men and needed sandwiches as big as Bibles for lunch.

Breaking horses was one of John’s favorite jobs and he was good at it.

One time some cowboys were having trouble with an unruly horse and asked John to help. He got on it and stayed on it as the horse raced toward Oldman River. The horse launched itself over the bank into deep water. Afraid of what had become of John, the cowboys waited until the horse emerged downstream with John still on its back.

Many stories of his feats abound. Like the time the cattle were caught in a snow storm. The cowboys tried to turn them but failed and all returned to the ranch except John. The storm raged for three days before the cowboys could go in search of John and the cows. They found him two days later still with the herd. He had not been dressed for the weather and joked he was afraid to flex his fingers in case they broke of like icicles.

Sometimes John performed feats of strength like straightening a curved hay hook with his bare hands, or lifting a barrel full of water into cart.

John had a dream—to own his own ranch. In 1890 he had built a house on the shores of Sheep Creek. But he wanted a family. He wanted to marry a Black woman and there were few such in Alberta. However, a family moved into the area. He courted Mildred and married her. He was 26 years older than her. They soon had four children.

The land around John and his family was settling up and John didn’t care for that so in 1900 he moved his family to near the Red Deer River. Mildred must have been shocked to see the treeless countryside with its stunted grass and the nearby badlands.

Their sixth child was born there but he was never strong. Mildred never regained her health after the child was born. John rode the train to Calgary to get medicine. Where he returned to Brooks (the nearest station) he had 40 Km to ride to reach home. A storm made it impossible for the horse to make its way so John walked the distance. But sadly, the child, Daniel, died before his 3rd birthday. Later that year Mildred died of pneumonia.

That same year, John and his 11 year old son were cutting out some cattle when John’s favorite horse caught her foot in a badger hold and fell, pinning John beneath. John was killed in that accident.

At his funeral, the pastor described John as “a gentleman with a beautiful skin.” John had not faced much prejudice on the open range though he experienced it in the towns and cities. He was believed to have said that “A good man or a good horse is never a bad color.”

I hope you enjoyed learning about this gentle giant.  Feel free to post comments or ask questions, though I don’t promise to have all the answers.J

I am offering a free digital copy of Temporary Bride to one on those who comments. It is the first in my Dakota Brides series, featuring strong, independent young women who ventured west to Dakota Territory and found not only freedom and independence, but love. Their love, however, came to them in unexpected ways and from unexpected sources.

Wait, there’s more!

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