The Wires That Changed the West

Hello everyone – Winnie Griggs here. I hope you all had a joyful and blessed Christmas and that 2026 is starting out well for you.

Yesterday—January 11—marked the birthday of Ezra Cornell, one of the founders of Western Union. That bit of calendar trivia caught my attention because I’m beginning work on a new story which has a heroine who’s a telegrapher. As often happens, one small detail led me down a research rabbit trail—and I thought it would be fun to share a bit of that history with you today, along with some telegraph trivia.

Western Union was founded in 1851, at a time when the United States was expanding rapidly westward. What began as a network of regional telegraph lines soon grew into a nationwide system as smaller companies merged and new wires were strung across vast distances.

As railroads pushed west, telegraph lines often followed alongside them. By the late 1860s and 1870s, telegraph offices could be found in cities, railroad depots, military posts, and many small frontier towns. Messages that once took days or weeks to arrive by mail could now be sent in minutes.

For communities in the American West, this changed everything. News traveled faster. Businesses operated more efficiently. Law enforcement and railroads coordinated more safely. Families separated by miles of open country could remain connected—at least in brief, carefully worded messages.

Construction of telegraph lines with Pony Express rider in foreground

And of course, as the territory the wires reached grew so did the need for telegraphers. Telegraphy was skilled work. Operators had to learn Morse code, develop speed and accuracy, and be able to translate rapid clicks into written messages without error. Training came through private telegraph schools, which often lasted three to six months, or through apprenticeships and on-the-job instruction in telegraph or railroad offices.

By the late 19th century, a notable number of telegraphers were women. Historians estimate that roughly 20–30 percent of telegraph operators in the United States were female by the 1880s and 1890s, with even higher percentages in some locations. For many women, telegraphy offered something rare for the era—respectable work, steady wages, and a measure of independence.

Skilled operators often developed what was known as a telegrapher’s “hand.” Just as handwriting varies from person to person, so did the rhythm and cadence of Morse code. Experienced telegraphers could sometimes recognize one another simply by listening to the pattern of taps coming through the sounder.

During the 19th century, the telegraph was not an automatic system. A trained operator had to be present, listening to the sounder, for a message to be received.

You may have seen telegraph recorder tapes in old photographs or classic movies—long strips of paper embossed with dots and dashes. Early telegraph systems did include recording registers, but by the late nineteenth century many offices, especially in smaller Western towns, had moved away from them. The machines were slower and could be mechanically finicky, and they required extra steps to translate the markings into readable text. Skilled operators could receive messages more quickly and accurately by ear, so the sounder became the preferred tool in most everyday offices.

Which meant if a message was sent while the telegrapher was away from the desk in one of these small Western towns, it simply wasn’t received. The sending office would get no acknowledgment and would try again later. There was no visual alert, no saved record, and no way for the operator to know a message had been attempted.

In shared spaces—such as a railroad depot—someone nearby might hear the sounder clicking and later mention that the wire was active. But unless that person was trained in Morse code, they wouldn’t know who sent the message or what it concerned. As it does today, timing mattered and could even be critical – but delays were simply part of life on the wire.

A Few Telegraph-related Tidbits

  • Telegraph messages were typically billed by the word, encouraging brevity—and sometimes confusion.
  • Early telegraph companies experimented with burying insulated wires underground, often in pipes, but moisture quickly made the lines unreliable. Stringing wires on poles proved far more practical and became the standard across the West.
  • Operators often worked long or irregular hours, especially when tied to train schedules.
  • Telegraph offices were rarely silent; the frequent clicking of the sounder became part of the background noise of daily life.
  • In many towns, the telegraph office was the first place news arrived, making the operator one of the best-informed people in the community.
  • Reliability mattered. In many towns, the telegrapher was one of the most quietly important people in the community, and their discretion was a key requirement.
  • Skilled operators commonly transmitted 20–30 words per minute, with especially fast telegraphers exceeding that speed.
  • Accuracy mattered as much as speed; a single missed word could delay a train or change the meaning of a message entirely.

Learning more about the telegraph and the people who worked it has given me a deeper appreciation for the skill and responsibility involved in keeping those lines of communication open across miles of open country.

Did any of this information surprise you? Do you think you would have made a good telegrapher—and if not, what part of the job would you have found the most challenging? Leave a comment to be entered in a drawing for a signed copy of one of my books.

The Most Fun You Can Have Doing Western Historical Research

Hi! Nancy Fraser here! I’m so pleased to return to Petticoats & Pistols for another visit. Just last week, I uploaded my final book for 2025 and now I’m going to take a much needed few week’s off before I begin again working on 2026. Hard to believe we’ve almost reached another year-end, isn’t it?

Today, though, I want to talk about western research. There is a definite skill required to organize the information needed to accurately portray the wild west in the 1800s. So much we take for granted now, or assume is correct, wasn’t even heard of in the 1880s or before.

My favorite searches revolve around the following:

• When did my story’s location ceased to become a territory and attain statehood?
• When did my location first get a railroad? Iceboxes? Dare I say it… electricity?
• How far is my fictitious location from a larger city? (Of course that’s my decision, but I like to find a similar real location and pretend it’s my fake town for distance purposes.)
• What was the population of the territory in 1885?

All of the above are fun and often necessary searches. By far my favorites are these:

• What’s the old west slang word for “a handsome man”? (Answer: Belvidere)
• How would my crusty character say, “the end” or “closed”? (Answer: Eventuate)

I keep an ongoing list of western slang that I’ve sorted three ways: alphabetically, by subject, and by first-used date. Yes, I sometimes over-organize. At the moment, my list is over 150 words long.

I thought it might be fun to share thirty of my favorites in a Word Search. Go ahead and give it a try. Feel free to share your results in the comments below.


OLD WEST SLANG WORD SEARCH

Clothing styles are another fun search. The array of references out there is sometimes overwhelming (and not always accurate). Given I write mostly small-town settings with everyday characters, it’s hard to go wrong with a simple skirt and plain blouse, or a calico dress. Trousers (not jeans) for the men and a gray or off-white shirt. Jeans (specifically Levis) are okay if we’re into the mid to late 1870s. Even though plaid/flannel was created by the Welsh in the 17th century, the fabric didn’t become popular in the western U.S. until the late 19th century.

Because I also create a lot of my own covers, as well as covers for several multi-author series books, one of my biggest frustrations is finding the perfect outfit, but realizing the model is wearing far too much makeup for the time period. I’ve become an expert in removing telltale signs of red lipstick and eyeliner. Still, making that cover perfect is all part of what I consider research.

In this final quarter of the year, I’ve released two sweet, historical romances. Both books required extensive research, and both include a few of those colorful slang words or phrases. (What’s a long list if you don’t use it?”)

I’d love to give you a peek at both of my accomplished and feisty heroines, and the men who fall in love with them.

Addie: Mackinac Bride (National Park Brides Series)

Other than two years of college in Big Rapids, Adelaide (Addie) MacDonald has spent her entire life on Mackinac Island in northern Michigan. Just a child when President Grant designated Mackinac as a National Park in 1875, she and her family were at the dedication.

In the years since, many have left the island for bigger and better things, yet Addie stayed behind as one of the few civilian employees. It’s been her dream to someday leave the island and finish her degree in agriculture and one day own her own farm.

When Jonathan (Jon) Ferris first met Addie, she was only twelve, he was eighteen, and on his way to college. After graduation, his plan was to follow in his father’s footsteps and join the military. Now, ten years later, he’s returning to Mackinac to take over command of the fort and the park. When he first sees Addie again, he can’t believe his eyes. Gone are the freckles and bright red ponytail. In their place is a beautiful and confident young woman.

Will returning to the park be the permanence he wants for his career and for his life? Will verbally sparring with the opinionated Addie lead to something infinitely more interesting? More importantly, will Addie find a way to fulfil her dreams while keeping those she loves close?

You can find Addie and Jon’s story on #KindleUnlimited.



Dumplings by Daria (Old Timey Holiday Kitchen Series)

Doctor Daria Keller arrives in Whistler Falls Montana at the height of their first winter storm. With barely enough time to drop off her luggage, she finds herself whisked off to the clinic to help set broken arms and treat frostbite.

When Rancher Finn MacIsaac arrives at the clinic to claim his injured son, he mistakes Daria for a nurse and dismisses her instructions out of hand, preferring to wait for the doctor. When she informs him that she is a doctor, he still insists on waiting until he can speak to a man. Pegging him as a chauvinist, Daria rushes off to help other patients.

It’s inevitable that they’ll cross paths, especially when Daria and Finn’s housekeeper become fast friends. Daria settles into her new position as head of the town’s clinic and small hospital and earns the respect of all those around her. The only person she’s not become friends with is Finn.
As winter takes a firm hold on the area, Daria must make a house call north of town. A buggy accident causes her and Finn to be trapped in snowbound cabin with only their wits and Finn’s skill with an axe to keep them warm. They do their best to avoid one another until they realize they’re both hiding hurt from their past. Over a tin of beans, they finally open up and share their secrets.

Can two people who started off at odds make up for lost time? Or are they destined to be nothing more than friends?

Finn and Daria’s romance is also available on #KindleUnlimited.


With the holidays fast approaching, I’d love to know your go-to holiday side dish or your family’s favorite activity. I’m also giving away one eBook copy of each of my featured books. Just comment below for your chance to win.

Until next time, I wish you happiness, good health, time to read, and a joyous holiday season!

Nancy

NANCY FRASER is a bestselling and award-winning author who can’t seem to decide which romance genre suits her best. So, she writes them all.

Her preferred genres are sweet western historical and sweet small-town contemporary. However, she has been known to dabble in the most unusual settings.

 

When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.

 

You can follow Nancy here:

 

Amazon Author Page            

Bookbub

Bluesky Social

Goodreads

Old Bull’s Heavenly Visitor & Give-away

Howdy!

Welcome to another tantalizing Tuesday!  Hope y’all are doing well today.  And I have a special story for you today.  A true story — one I ran across in doing research for the story I’m currently working on.  This is from the book, BEAR CHIEF’S WAR SHIRT by James Willard Schultz, who is writing about his own true experience.

In June of 1877, Schultz’s mother had given him permission to go out west into what was then called Indian Territory on a buffalo hunt — he was to return that same year where he would attend a military academy, but he didn’t return until 1880 and even then, he was there for only 3 months before returning to Indian Country.  Indeed, James Schultz stayed with the Blackfeet and married into the tribe and became a white Blackfeet Indian.  There is a book he has written entitled MY LIFE AS AN INDIAN, and oh my, what a wonderful book it is — filled with thrilling stories.

This story is about one of Schultz’s adventures as a warrior going with a war party to retrieve Bear Chief’s War Shirt.  On the way to determining what tribe might have stolen the shirt and a way to retrieve it, he had many adventures.  The story I’m about to tell you he declares in his book is true. and is one he saw with his own eyes.

First let me tell you a little about a Blackfeet war party.  There was a man who led the party and it was his responsibility to sleep and live (to some degree) apart from the others so he could pray for a vision that would tell him what lay ahead of the war party.  Old Bull was part of this war party –he was a “Bringer of Plenty” — a man who called the buffalo to a cliff and over it so the tribe would have enough food to get through the cold winters of Montana.  He had what the Indians called much medicine.

Schultz describes Old Bull as a man about forty winters (years) in age.  Here is what Schultz writes about Old Bull:

“…I liked Old Bull best [of the war party}; in fact, I revered him.  He was a man of about forty winters — tall and well muscled, with long hair, keen eyes, and a pleasant face; calm, dignified, and honest; moreover, he was a sacred pipe man, a medicine man, as the whites say.  Old Bull was possessor of the powerful Eagle Head pipe, master of its long ritual of sacred prayers and songs.”

Old Bull was a man whom the war party needed to have a vision so as to alert the war party as to what they might face and it if would be successful.  But, so far, he had not been able to have a vision.

Old Bull stated that oftentimes he had to go someplace alone so that his spiritual helper would come.  He had told Schultz that often his spiritual helper would come to others as Old Bull prayed to their God, the Creator.  His spiritual helper would then tell the others gathered there the answers to what Old Bull was asking.  And so, not having a vision to help the war party, Old Bull went into a hollow tree and there began to pray.

And, I will quote from the book:

Bear chief was praying — “He had no more than spoken these words when his body stiffened, his face becoming tense and his eye balls rolling upwards in his head.  He leaned back against the inside of the tree.  Bear Chief and I were standing close to the tree when this happened….  Before us a white shadow was forming starting up from the ground and spinning up like a whirlwind, building higher and higher until it reached the height of Bear Chief.  Then the fluorescent white cloud began taking a man’s shape, the ears, nose, mouth, eyes, and the rest of the face forming first, then the body, arms, and legs. The figure took on such details as moccasins, a full head dress to the ground, necklaces, and some face coloring.  As I stood there, it seemed as though I could look through the Heavenly Visitor as one would look through a light colored window pane.

“The Visitor spoke in Blackfeet.  ‘Bear Chief, I am your helper.  I have been helping you all your life.  I have helped you in battles, I guide you and give you good thought.  My name is Gray Eagle.

“‘There is trouble for you ahead.  How much trouble will depend on how careful you are in your movements.  Do not travel this night.  You all will go to the Sand Hills someday, but those who are needed here now will stay for a while; those who are needed over there to help do the work of the Above Ones will go earlier.  Bear Chief, you will be rewarded.’  and with that the almost transparent visitor vanished into the sky in a streak of light.

“As Old Bull awakened from his trance, I asked him if he remembered anything that had gone on.  Said he, ‘I remember only that I slept.  What happened?’ I told him about the ghostly visitor and of his message.

“Old Bull continued, “Ever since I was a young man, there have been times over which I have had little control, when I have been seized by the Above Ones and when, as afterward related to me by my friends, Spirit people have built up and have been seen and heard by all present.  I would much rather have a vision, where I get the message direct, but when day after day has passed and I have received no message, often if I pray in an enclosure, as I did here, I am seized, and Spirit people come forth.”

The war party went on to be successful in regaining the war shirt.  Interestingly, Schultz writes, “After passing through several hands [the war shirt], the shirt came to the collection of Indian Americana at the Denver Art Museum.  No myth, this famed Indian relic is now on display for visitors to marvel at for its color, design, and decoration.”

Well, I hope you enjoyed this story.

Now onto other news:  My latest release, SHE BELONGS IN MY WORLD, is on sale starting today for $.99.  Don’t miss this chance.  Pick up your copy today.

Also, I will be giving away a mass market paperback of the book, Soaring Eagle’s Embrace, to one lucky blogger.  So come on in and leave your thoughts on this blog.  I love hearing from you.

SHE BELONGS IN MY WORLD:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FBPKBXBZ?tag=pettpist-20

 

Women’s Hats in the 1800s

 

‘Walking Dress’, April 1825
published by J. Robins & Co, published in The Ladies’ Pocket Magazine
hand-coloured etching
NPG D47555
© National Portrait Gallery, London

 

Have you ever wished for a lovely hat or two, like women wore in the 1800s? I know I have! There are some absolutely stunning creations, and it’s interesting how hats evolved over the years. 

While hats were practical for reasons such as they’d protect the wearer from the sun or dust, hold their hair in place, or keep them warm, they were also fashion accessories, that, just like we have today, reflected personal taste, fashion trends, or allowed the wearer to be modestly or properly dressed in situations. Of course, back in the 1800s, a woman wearing a hat was far more critical than it is today, as going without one was considered to be indecent. 

Throughout the 1800s, as fashions changed so did the hat styles. One thing that didn’t change, however, was that they were able to be personalized to the wearer’s preferences in decoration, such as colors, ribbons, flowers, material, and even the shape or size. 

Just what were some of these lovely head coverings? In no particular order, I’ll talk about a few of them. 

CS.228001.0035; Fashion plate, The Newest Fashions for October 1827, Fashionable Head Dresses, Walking Dress

 

A poke bonnet might have been made of willow or fabric, and allowed for a wonderful amount of shade for a woman’s face. The deep design also gave her the ability to wear her hair tucked inside. (Bad hair day? Total coverage!) 

For those who wanted to be the very height of fashion, turbans were quite popular for a time, influenced by Orientalism. These were sometimes plain fabric, other times including the addition of a feather or jewel.  

As the 1800s progressed, hats and bonnets became smaller. That allowed more of the hair to be shown and accessorized. As women participated in more sporting activities, they adopted the boater style hat. 

 

 

Boaters were flat topped, brimmed, and made of straw. These were popular for informal wear. But one of my favorite hats styles is the Gainsborough hat. These hats were named after the artist Thomas Gainsborough, and were large, wide brimmed hats often covered in ribbons and flowers or feathers. 

While I don’t have a book where a hat is really featured, I would love to give one reader a copy of the first book in my series: The Gunslinger.

 

 

To have a chance at winning, just tell me: There are so many hat styles, do you have a favorite one or one that you wear often?

Dice Gambling Games of the Old West

When you think of the old West, cowboys, horses, folks settling new towns on the prairies and small dusty towns emerging out of sod or clay come to mind. One of the buildings many of those towns had back then was a saloon. For many men, the saloon, even if they didn’t partake of the liquor, held other social activities. The saloon was where men might meet to discuss a business deal, relax and visit friends, catch up on the news, or gather around for a game, always hoping to win some coin. 

Chances are really good that right now, you are imagining some of these men sitting around a table, cards in hand and playing some sort of game like Faro or Brag. While it’s true that many a man won and lost at the card table, just as popular were those games with dice. Who knows, it might have even been easier to pull out dice and play a few rounds of a game, since there were no cards to worry about losing or getting wet, if they were in your pocket and it started to rain. 

 

Two popular dice games in the 1800s were Chuck-a-luck and Hazard. 

Chuck-a-luck originated in English pubs, and also called Crown and Anchor. There are a few other names for it, such as Sweat, Chicker Luck, and just plain Chuck. The game is placed with three six sided dice inscribed with clubs, diamonds, hearts, spades, a crown, and an anchor, and then a small cup. It’s a simple game. Players wagers on the possible combination outcomes of the dice roll in order to win. Later, to prevent cheating, the cup was replaced with a small cage and the game’s name eventually started being called Birdcage. In the James Bond Movie, The Man with the Golden Gun, you can see the character Lazar playing this game. 

When it comes to Hazard, It’s a very old game placed with two standard six-sided numbered dice. In fact, the game is mentioned in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, in the 14th century. For only having two dice, the game was rather complicated. Any number of people may play, but only one player at a time has the dice. In the rounds, the person with the dice specifies a number. The other playes place their wagers on the outcome of those dice rolls. Does that sound familiar? If you said the came of Craps, you are right! Eventually, the complicated rules were modified, and turned into the casino game that many of us are familiar with. 

Can I introduce you to a fictional (reformed) gambler? 

 

Kody Hall lives life on a roll of the dice, betting on everything except love. He’s learned the hard way that women don’t mix well with gambling men. But he’s willing to wager everything he has on a chance to change lives at the orphanage he secretly founded. He’s also hoping the woman he’s been corresponding with might be interested in taking a chance on a mail-order husband. He’d like to settle down.

Susan Louden, the orphanage’s teacher, is fiercely protective of her charges. When she spots Kody, the town’s notorious gambler, lurking around the grounds, she chases him off. In her eyes, gambling and innocence don’t mix. Why can’t more men be like the one she’s been writing to?

But a surprise revelation about Kody’s true intentions, and his identity, throws Susan’s world into disarray. Could she have been wrong about him? The more she learns, the more she questions her own place in the orphanage, especially as she starts to develop feelings for him. Can a woman dedicate her life to children while being associated with a gambler?

It’s something Kody’s willing to gamble on.

You can find his story in ebook, paperback, and by searching for large print.

One person who answers my question will win an ebook copy of Mail-Order Gambler! 

Just tell me, have you played any dice games yourself? I was always a fan of Yahtzee! 

Beaver Dick Leigh, two giveaways, and our guest blogger Charlene Raddon!

 

The pack train moved slowly through the remaining snowdrifts of late spring in the Tetons, heading for the mountain valley ahead. The buckskin horses were led by a tall-for-his-time trapper with thick red hair and beard, whom the Shoshone called Ingapumba (redhead), but more often he was known to his neighbors as “Beaver Dick” or “Uncle Dick.”

Trapper, hunting guide, ferryman, Mexican War veteran, and all-around mountain man, Richard ‘Beaver Dick’ Leigh, lived a long life in and around the Teton Mountains. Following behind were his Shoshone wife, Jenny, and his children riding burros. They were leading pack horses loaded with supplies for a long season of camping, hunting, and trapping in the high valley known even then as Jackson’s Hole.

In his 68 years, Beaver Dick Leigh fought in the Mexican War, guided government expeditions through the Yellowstone region, led hunting parties from the East—and enjoyed life among the Shoshone and Bannock tribes. With his red hair, blue eyes, and freckles, he stood out from most of those around him, but despite his rough life, he was an inveterate reader of books, magazines, and newspapers. He kept a diary during his time in the mountains.

Richard Leigh was born in Manchester, Lancashire, England, in 1831, emigrating to America at age 7 with his sister, Martha. Eventually they moved on to Mount Hope, Pa. From there, he left his sister and joined the Hudson Bay Company, which sent him to the Northwest, where his education as a trapper began. He never looked back, nor saw his sister again, but stayed in touch, however, as he later referred to his brother-in-law, Henry Wall.

Beaver Dick joined the U.S. Army toward the end of the Mexican-American War (1846-48), in which he served under Lt. Col. Henry Wilson.

Following his discharge, he travelled to the Salt Lake Valley, where he resumed his trade as an independent trapper. Moving north into what would become Idaho Territory, he chose the Snake River Valley for his homesite. This initially meant long pack trips south for several years to sell his furs in Utah Territory.

On one of these trips to Corrine, in 1862, near the northeast shore of the Great Salt Lake, he camped near a Bannock couple—a man known as Bannock John to the whites, and his wife, Tadpole, a sister of the local Shoshone chief, Taghee. Tadpole was amid a difficult labor and Dick assisted the father in delivering the baby.

The new arrival was named Susan Tadpole. Her parents promised her to Dick to be his wife when she reached maturity, no doubt a kind gesture of gratitude that had little expectation of coming to fruition, since he was 31 at the time.

Before he returned to his base camp at the confluence of the Snake and Teton rivers on the west side of the Tetons, Dick Leigh married a 16-year-old Eastern Shoshone girl from Chief Washakie’s band in 1863. Dick called her Jenny. He often told his friends and wrote in his diary about her many good traits. Five children arrived in the following years. Dick, Jr., 1864, Anne Jane, 1866, John, 1868, William, 1870, and Elizabeth in 1873.

 

Dick’s homestead on the west side of the Tetons continued to expand with additions of milk cows and the buckskin horses he was fond of. When it was time to go on the annual hunting trips over the mountains, Dick took the entire family along. Leigh’s diaries give an in-depth picture of the challenges they faced on the frontier. Whether setting his trap lines, hunting with his son Dick, Jr., leading hunting parties or assisting any of the increasing number of new settlers arriving in the Snake River valley, Beaver Dick Leigh was a busy and well-respected member of the community.

He built a ferry at the Eagle Nest Ford on the Henry’s Fork of the Snake, free for anyone to use. He acted as liaison between the tribes and authorities at the new Fort Hall Reservation, advising them about Indian movements on and off the reservation.

In the winter of 1876, an Indian woman seeking food visited the Leighs. They did not know she had smallpox. All of the Leigh family and another hunter caught the disease. Between Christmas Eve and Dec. 28, all of Beaver Dick’s family died; he and the hunter barely survived.

In 1879, Dick Leigh, age 48, married 16-year-old Susan Tadpole, who had been promised to him at birth. The couple had three children: Emma, 1881; William, 1886; and Rose, 1891.

While camped near Two Ocean Creek on the Continental Divide in the fall of 1891, they were visited by Theodore Roosevelt and his hunting party. Beaver Dick and Teddy conversed for a spell, sharing stories and hunting tales.

Dick continued to guide hunting parties as long as his health permitted. Eventually, he had to turn over this business to his son William. He also kept in touch with the many friends he had made over the years, writing letters to a lengthy list of correspondents.

Beaver Dick Leigh died March 29, 1899, age 68, in the company of family and friends. He is buried beside his family on a high terrace overlooking his ranch near Rexburg, Idaho. His memory and legacy are well preserved in his letters and diaries, as well as the namesake features in the Jackson Hole valley he loved.

Two winners will be chosen for a prize: one for a $5 Amazon gift card and one an ebook from my collection. To enter, all you have to do is tell me something you found interesting about Beaver Dick Leigh’s story. 

When the Past Surprises a Writer: Copying Documents Before Photocopiers by Martha Hutchens

 

Being a historical author comes with its pitfalls. One common problem is figuring out how people handled not-so-daily tasks in the era you’re writing about—especially when it leads you down a rabbit hole of research!

You can never predict what tiny bit of historical minutiae will have you stuck for hours—or days. In my recent book, the culprit was figuring out how to make a copy of a marriage certificate. My heroine needed to prove to her lawyer back home that she was married. Being a modern person, I naturally wrote that the lawyer requested a copy of her marriage certificate.

Then, I thought, “Wait a minute. No photocopiers back then.” Wyoming wasn’t a state yet, and its counties were massive—some as large as 10,000 square miles. The idea of running to the county seat to get an official copy didn’t seem practical. After all, traveling by horse would have taken days, especially across such vast, rugged terrain. 

After a bit of thinking, I decided to have the pastor send a letter confirming that he had performed the wedding.

But then something funny happened. I visited The Bird Cage Theatre in Tombstone, Arizona.

 

Images of The Bird Cage Theater used with permission.

The Bird Cage, a notorious brothel, closed its doors in 1892. When new owners opened them again in 1929, they discovered something remarkable: nothing had been touched in the intervening fifty years. Layers of dust covered the furniture, posters, and even the famous painting of Fatima that still hangs there today. The owners saw this not as a mess to clean up but as a time capsule—a treasure trove of the past. It was almost like stepping back in time, into the Old West. 

As I wandered through the back room where many of these items are displayed, I came across something called a Letterpress. This device was used to copy documents by moistening ink, placing new paper next to it, and applying pressure, which just goes to show that human ingenuity has never been restricted by technology. Even before the photocopier, people had created tools to replicate documents, and the Letterpress was one of the earliest methods.

Images of The Bird Cage Theater used with permission.

A little more research turned up other interesting historical copying methods. For instance, George Washington used a copying press to make duplicates of the official letters he sent. This early method involved placing a wet sheet of paper over an inked letter and pressing it, transferring the ink and creating a duplicate. I even found a video of some one demonstrating the technique using the actual device Washington used. Can you imagine touching history in that manner?

Then there were the mimeograph machines, which I remember from my school days. When we used those duplicated worksheets, I had no idea that this device was invented by Thomas Edison in 1876. The mimeograph used stencils to transfer ink onto paper, and while it might seem old-fashioned, it was an essential tool in offices and schools for decades before photocopiers came along.

And, of course, the printing press was used to mass-produce newspapers, pamphlets, and other printed materials across the West. The printing press played a significant role in shaping the way information spread, making it a cornerstone of historical communication.

 

Images of The Bird Cage Theater used with permission.

 

So, it turns out that humanity has been making copies of documents long before the photocopier was invented. While modern technology makes it easier, the solutions of the past were equally creative, even if they were a bit more labor-intensive. The lesson here is simple: when people need something badly enough, they always find a way.

 

Your turn: What’s the most fascinating piece of historical trivia you’ve learned recently? Is there a historical invention that you think is underappreciated, yet made a huge impact on its time? Have you ever come across a historical detail that made you rethink a well-known event or idea? I’d love to hear your thoughts! Three commenters will receive an ecopy of my book, A Steadfast Heart.

The Old West Time-Life Books

When I was a child of about 12-years-old, my mother subscribed to a then popular historical, science, and cultural book club put out by Time-Life Magazines. There were series such as Voyage Through the Universe and Lost Civilizations. But the one we owned was by far one of the most popular: The Old West.

The books were beautiful constructed and truly collectable. Bound in imitation leather and tooled to resemble saddles or belts, replica authentic artwork adorned the covers. The books – 26 in all – were filled with old photographs, newspaper clippings, letters, drawings, painting, anecdotes, and stories. These truly beautiful books brought history to life for me and helped fueled my love of all things Western.

When my own children were young, my mother gifted me with the books, and I proudly displayed them for years in my living room. When I began writing western historical romances, I used the books for research and “borrowed” many story ideas and plot elements from real life incidents. It’s true what they say about true life being better than fiction. Some of my favorite books were, of course, The Cowboys, The Forty-Niners and The Miners (several of my western historicals take place in mining communities), The Spanish West (because I live in Arizona), The Canadians (my father’s family originally came over from France and settled in northeastern Canada and New England), and The Women – I still marvel at their courage and determination.

My favorite book of all, perhaps, is The Pioneers. From the time I was a very little girl, my mother and grandmother would tell me stories of my maternal family, who came over on the Mayflower. They would often speak about John Bidwell, a relative from New York who, as a young man, was lured by the call of the West in the days when people were crossing the country in droves. According to the stories, John Bidwell did well for himself in California, becoming a prominent and wealthy landowner who eventually served in the California Senate and House of Representative. All this when he arrived with but a few dollars in his pocket. Well, the stories my mother and grandmother told were true. John Bidwell appears in The Pioneers, and quite a few pages are dedicated to him and his contribution.

 

I can’t say I read all the books or even one of them from cover to cover. There was just too much information. But I’ve read something from every one of the books and studied at the pictures. Sadly, some years ago, I lost the books through a series of unforeseen events. These things happen. But I often thought about the books and wished I still had them. Well, thanks to the powers of Ebay and $99, I now do. I was recently able to buy a complete set of the books in pristine condition, and they are once again being proudly displayed on my living room bookcase. And while not the books my late mother gave me, they nonetheless warm my heart when I look at them and run my fingers over the imitation tooled leather covers ?

Ever Wonder What “Dollar Princesses” Were and Why They Were Called That?

Me and my enquiring mind was at work again this week. I ran across an article the other day that caught my eye that you might find interesting as well. It happened around the turn of the century and centers around British royalty and American wealth.

The cash-strapped English noblemen found it very difficult to keep living in the luxury they’d been accustomed to. They struggled to maintain huge estates in the face of dwindling wealth that had always sustained them. They owned a lot of land and castles but had little capital. What were they to do? They looked across the pond to bright and shiny America and its new money.

It didn’t hurt that these rich Americans had beautiful unmarried daughters. Not at all.

Pixaby – Annie1loves1you

It didn’t take long for deals to be struck – titles in exchange for money. A publication called Titled Americans listed eligible British bachelors who would be interested in marrying their own dollar princesses. Between 1870 and 1914 a whopping 454 American heiresses had married into the aristocracy.

Among the list was Consuelo Vanderbilt whose father was railroad tycoon William Vanderbilt. He provided a dowry of 1.6 million dollars as well as an income of two million in stocks. (Roughly $96,000,000 today) That was a lot of money. Against her wishes, Consuelo married Charles Spencer-Churchill. It was not a happy union. He was in love with another and promptly told her so. Despite that, she had an unhappy marriage, she gained a place in British society as Duchess of Marlborough and became a voice for women’s rights. After living apart for several years, they divorced and she married the love of her life, a French aviator named Jacques Balsan.

Jennie Jerome was another whose father sought a good marriage for. She married Lord Randolph Churchill and became Lady Churchill. They had a rocky marriage to start with but made a go of it and stayed together until he died. One of their sons was Winston Churchill. I never knew he had an American mother! Jennie threw herself into the marriage and played in influential role in her husband’s political career in addition to diving into women’s social issues.

circa 1880: American heiress Jennie Jerome, daughter of Leonard Jerome and later Lady Randolph Churchill, mother of Winston Churchill. (Photo by Hulton Archive/Getty Images)

I’ll mention one other. Nancy Langhorne who married Viscount Waldorf Astor. Nancy became a distinctive presence among British society and after her husband was elevated to the House of Lords, she ran for his seat in the House of Commons and became the first woman to occupy that seat for quite a few years.

This practice was actually reverse marriages of convenience but for the men.

Some marriages worked and some didn’t. Also, some resented the arrangement and never tried to make it work. The Americans and the Brits have always kind of been linked together. History is crammed packed with nuggets like this. I never get bored of diving in and seeing what I can find.

How about you? Do you find history as dull and boring as a piece of limp cheese? Or do the stories come alive in your mind and you want to know more?

Next month, I’ll have the release of my new western romance – Cade’s Quest. I can’t wait. Oh and my sister, Jan Sikes, who is also a writer will share my post on August 19th. We’ll have giveaways! It’ll be fun!

Cade McIntyre sets out to find his lost siblings and bring them home—only to discover danger at every turn…and an unexpected chance at love. But will he find heartache or hope?

This is available for preorder now. CLICK HERE

So, get ready for a party next month. Much love.

Linda Broday

Sunrise Surf

When I was kicking around ideas for the hero in my new book, Sunrise Surf, releasing July 31, I decided to make him a surfer, mostly because I’d chosen the book title last year and wanted surf to have some significance to the story.

However, I wanted the hero to be a guy with integrity who can carry a lot of responsibility on his shoulders.

Just before I started writing this book, the news featured details about a huge multistate drug bust that has been dubbed the largest fentanyl bust in DEA history. That gave me the idea to have Logan be a state police officer working undercover as the laid-back, no-cares-in-the-world surfer named Bodhi.

The only problem with making him a surfer was that I knew nothing about it, except how much I smile when I hear the song “Wipe Out,” which really doesn’t count for anything.

So, I started doing research about surfing and learned about waves, boards, surfer slang, sharks in Oregon (ack!), and wetsuits.

I’m a very visual learner. I wanted to watch a documentary or movie about surfing. I stumbled across Chasing Mavericks, a 2012 American biographical drama film about the life of American surfer Jay Moriarity.

Not only did I learn about surfing, I learned about someone who impacted the lives around him. Jay was a 15-year-old surfing phenomenon who wanted to ride the Mavericks surf break in California, one of the biggest waves on Earth. He trained with surfing legend Frosty Hesson, and a photo of his wipeout on the Mavericks became the cover of a surfing magazine. Jay went on to become an accomplished surfer, waterman, and adventurer. The day before his twenty-third birthday, he was free-diving in the Maldives and died. No one is sure what happened. In honor of his life, of the inspiration he gave to the people he encountered, a Live Like Jay movement began.

Live Like Jay embodies living a life of passion, positivity, and authenticity.

The thing about this movie that I randomly decided to watch is that I unknowingly watched it on the anniversary of his death date. It gave me goose bumps when I started doing research about Jay Moriarity the next day, which would have been his birthday. Even typing that just gave me goose bumps.

By now, you are wondering what an undercover state police office pretending to be a surfer has to do with anything western.

Well, not a lot, except Logan, the hero, grew up on a ranch in Central Oregon and our surfing cowboy still loves to rope and ride any chance he gets.

I hope you’ll check out Sunrise Surf!

When a police officer posing as a surfer and a doctor wading through the unchartered waters of parenting a teen join forces to dismantle a drug operation, anything is possible.

Oregon State Police Officer Logan Wright swaps his badge for a board, posing undercover as a homeless surfer to infiltrate a deadly drug ring. Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Seaside’s rugged coastline, he struggles with his dual life, especially after meeting a beautiful doctor who turns his head and touches his heart. Troubled by the fine line between duty and authenticity, Logan fears sharing the truth of his identity will drive her away.

Laken Hayes is a devoted doctor, fiercely protective of her teenage nephew, and determined to keep her hectic life in balance. But when a free-spirited surfer enters her world, nothing will ever be the same. Unexpectedly drawn to the charismatic man, Laken finds joy in his upbeat outlook on life while inadvertently becoming entangled in the web of Logan’s mission.

As their connection deepens and mysteries unravel, Logan faces a heart-wrenching dilemma: will he continue the deception to protect his cover or reveal his true self to the woman who has captured his heart?

Join Logan and Laken as they navigate a tide of secrets, false identities, and a wave of fast-moving danger in Sunrise Surf, a wholesome small-town romance that proves love may be the ultimate risk worth taking.

I found the idea of Live Like Jay so inspiring. 

What is a slogan, saying, or something that has inspired you? 

Petticoats & Pistols