Showing posts with label comanche. Show all posts
Showing posts with label comanche. Show all posts

Monday, February 21, 2022

Texas Outlaws and Lawmen - Texas Ranger Cicero Rufus Perry by Vicky J. Rose aka Easy Jackson

 


Cicero Rufus Perry
Cicero Rufus Perry

               Whenever someone comes up to me and says something like, “Your relatives were horse thieves,” I grin and give my shoulders a little shrug. My reply is: “Maybe some of them were, but I love my family anyway,” and that usually shuts them up.

              The Texas Rangers have been taking quite a hit lately from qualified historians, the armchair variety, and the sensation seekers, mostly the latter. Whenever I read about their supposed brutality, racism, etc., my response is the same. I love them anyway.

              In Texas during the 1800s, there was a group of Indians who loved to steal horses and a group of white men who loved to chase them. Let them hear of a neighbor being scalped, horses stolen, or women and children kidnapped, and they would drop the plow handles so fast the dust didn’t even have time to settle before they would be gone—riding as good and as fast a horse as they could saddle in the race to catch the perpetrators.  Most entered into the service of the Texas Rangers at one time or another.

             Certainly, the Indians, the women, the slaves, the children, and the old people who were forced to stay behind and do the everyday work deserve to have their stories told—but this blog is about Texas lawmen. And Cicero Rufus Perry was one of those men.

“Old Rufe” as he came to be called, left Alabama and arrived at Bastrop, Texas, in 1833 when

Gen. Edward Burleson

he was 11 years old. Bastrop, situated on the banks of the Colorado River along the Old San Antonio Road, had Indian raids every “light moon.” Indians stole all the Perry horses as soon as they arrived.  Consequently, young Rufe developed a case of hero worship for one of the best Indian fighters of the time, Edward Burleson. Burleson later led the Bastrop men in the charge at the Battle of San Jacinto and became vice president of the new Republic of Texas. At one time, he was just about the most popular man in Texas.

Gen. Sam Houston

But whereas Sam Houston was an attention grabber who jumped in front of the camera in showy clothes at every opportunity, Burleson only had his picture taken once, and that was at the insistence of his daughter. He was a down-to-earth man who accepted responsibility but never trampled anybody to get it. Much to the disgust of his longsuffering wife, however, he was always willing to drop everything to pursue Indians.

If Rufus Perry wanted to be an Indian fighter, soldier, and Ranger, he learned from the best.  At age 13, he and his father were with the other Texican soldiers as they retreated toward San Jacinto after the fall of the Alamo. Maj. Alexander Somervell approached the boy—they needed someone to go to Capt. Mosely Baker’s camp at San Felipe some 30 miles away and give him a dispatch from Gen. Houston. He was to burn the town so the advancing Mexican army couldn’t profit from it. No one else wanted to go. Would Rufe be afraid to take it?



San Felipe was second only to San Antonio as a commercial center  - its destruction upset many Texans. Houston would later claim he never gave the order to burn it, infuriating Capt. Mosely Baker.


“I toald I woold take it whitch I did” the semi-illiterate Perry wrote later.

Perry continued to run dispatches for Houston, and after the Battle of San Jacinto, he joined the Texas Rangers, continuing in that capacity as a regular and volunteer for the next 40 years, chasing marauding Indians, Mexican bandits, and thieving outlaws. He first volunteered for duty under Capt. William W. Hill whose company was attached to Gen. Edward Burleson’s Rangers. They were all that stood between the settlers returning home and rampaging Indians emboldened by their evacuation.

While Perry honed his Ranger skills under the tutelage of Burleson, he was receiving an education about life on the raw frontier. He watched in disgust as one “desperado” they had riding with them jumped on the first dead Indian he came to and began stabbing him. Perry remarked wryly, “I think if hee had of bin a live hee woold have went the other way.” Another shock came when an old backwoodsman cut the thigh off a dead Indian and tied it to his saddle, saying he was going to eat it if they did not get anything in the next few days. Fortunately, they made it to someone’s house, and “got beeaf and raostinears then wee dun fine.”

It is important to note, according to historian Donaly E. Brice, that up until the Battle of Plum
Creek in 1840, the fight against Indians in Texas was a defensive one. Horses would be stolen, people killed or kidnapped, and then the Rangers would go after them. In 1839, 16-year-old Rufe joined Col. John Moore’s company of men that included 42 Lipans for an expedition against the Comanche. At San Saba, they were able to surprise the enemy, and a battle ensued. Comanche women and children fled wildly into thickets. Andrew Lockhart, whose daughter had been kidnapped, ran ahead, screaming her name. Although the men were brave and experienced, the expedition had been poorly planned and executed.  Under a white flag, a parley was held between the whites and Comanche, with the Lipans translating. 

           The Comanche tried to bluff the whites with a threat of nearby Shawnee, while the Lipan translator convinced them the whites had no wounded. Badly outnumbered by the Comanche, they agreed to a truce. When they returned to where their horses had been, it was to find that every horse, blanket, and saddle had been stolen. Rufe joined the others in walking the 150 miles home.  

This humiliating episode did nothing to dampen Perry’s fighting spirit, and he continued to serve and scout for the Rangers. In his memoirs, he talks openly about taking a scalp because a young lady in Bastrop asked him to bring her back one. “hee fell as tho hee was dead and wee thaught hee was but when I went to raze his top not hee razed with me I tell was had a liveley time for a while until oald butch got the best of him.”

Punch Nash is about to drive his stagecoach across the Colorado River in Bastrop, TX

   
       Perry relates an incident that happened the next day just as frankly. The Rangers, along with some Lipan Indians, were on the trail of Comanche, killing two. The Lipans took a woman prisoner. “the way the friendly Indions did to ceap hur was to Sleap with hur each one evry night as their time come young Flaceo toald mee to tell Coln Lewis hee and mee could sleap with hur when thay all went around as he was commander and I interpretor but wee did not but let them have hur to them selves.”

Rufus Perry and his Indian guide Banzincum

In the meantime, an obsessed Santa Anna was unwilling to let Texas go and would continue to send soldiers in attempt after attempt to conquer the Texans, and Perry participated in stopping them. Although the Mexican American War is now deemed unconscionable by some historians, it was the only thing that finally put a halt to Mexico’s invasions into Texas.


After three predatory raids by Mexican soldiers into Texas, in a political move intended to stop the outcry of settlers, Gen. Houston allowed Alexander Somervell to lead a raid into Mexico. Perry again joined up, and as Houston expected, with little equipment and supplies, it showed how futile a raid into Mexico could be, and it had to be aborted. Perry was one of the 189 men who obeyed Somervell’s order to return home—308 men disobeyed and continued on in what became known as the Meir Expedition, leading to imprisonment and the infamous black bean episode.

Capt. Jack Coffee Hays, a great nephew of Andrew Jackson's wife, was the first to use the Navy Colt Paterson five-shot. He later helped Samuel Walker get to New York so he could meet with Samuel Colt and redesign it into the legendary Colt Walker six-shoot revolver.

             In 1844, Perry joined the legendary John Coffee Hays’s Ranger company and participated in many more Indian battles. On the Nueces River, an incident happened with three other Rangers that was to add Perry’s name to the legend.

 The Rangers were on the trail of horse thieves, and Perry told the other men to camp on a bluff while he continued a short distance ahead. When he returned, he saw they had not camped on the bluff, but closer to the river. He told them Indians would not have camped in such a spot, and he felt they weren’t far off. He rode up a hill to have a look, but couldn’t see signs of any Indians nearby. He went back to camp to eat, all the while having a premonition that things were about to go wrong.

Two of the men went to the river to bathe, but Perry and the other ranger, Kit Acklin, refused to join them. The men had just shucked off their clothes when Perry and Acklin were attacked by about 25 Comanche. Perry received one shot through his left shoulder, all the while firing his five-shooter at the enemy. He received another shot through his belly, and the third on his temple, cutting an artery so that he temporarily fainted from loss of blood.

Although the Colt Paterson gave the Rangers an advantage in the field, it had to be disassembled into three pieces before it could be reloaded.

John Holland Jenkins,
Perry's boyhood friend.
 

Perry later told his friend and fellow Bastropian John Holland Jenkins that when he came to, he put the gun to his head, considering suicide with the last bullet rather than be taken by the Indians and tortured. But Perry realized he could move, and he was able to join Acklin at the river, and he pulled the arrow out of his shoulder, leaving the spike. Perry caught hold to the tail of one of the horses and got across the river to where the other Rangers were, but he fainted once more. One of the Rangers had taken Perry’s gun to reload it when they were attacked again. Panicking and thinking Perry wouldn’t live anyway, they took his gun and ran off, leaving him and Acklin to the Indians. Perry was able to crawl to a nearby thicket and hide while Acklin made his escape. (Another account has Acklin being much more proactive in helping Perry—only leaving after both agreed that splitting up and going for help separately would be better.)


Perry could hear the Indians talking and walking around the thicket, but perhaps thinking he was armed, decided to leave him alone, and they soon left. He stuffed his wounds with dirt and little sticks to staunch the bleeding, and once it was dark, he crawled on his hands and knees down to the river for water. It was only about 200 yards, but it took him from dark to daylight to get there. After getting his fill of water, and filling up his boot with more, he crawled to a hole left by a fallen tree and stayed there all day.

At nightfall, Perry started for San Antonio on his own. On the seventh day he reached San Antonio after walking 120 miles with nothing but three prickly pear apples and a few mesquite beans to sustain him. People stared at him as if seeing a grisly ghost, for the two Rangers who had taken the horses and run away had arrived before him, naked and horribly burned from the sun, telling everyone he and Acklin were dead. Acklin, who wasn’t in nearly as bad a shape as Perry, made it into San Antonio the next day.

San Antonio as it was a few years after Rufus Perry walked into town, a bloody, swollen mess.

The women of San Antonio took such good care of Perry, to his dying day he praised them, two in particular, a Mexican woman he called Madam Androon, and a German woman named Mrs. Jakes. It took him two years to recover from his wounds. They counted twenty holes in his clothes where arrows had pierced them. The optic nerve in his right eye was severed, disfiguring it, and for the rest of his life, it twitched. He was 22.

While recuperating at home in Bastrop, Perry married a beautiful young woman described in later years as being somewhat haughty. But Perry must have been perceived as something of a hero. As soon as he recovered enough to ride, the people of Bastrop County presented him with a fine horse. He later served two years in the Mexican War with the Texas Volunteers and afterward served again with the Rangers, being stationed in the Texas Hill Country. In 1851, he left Bastrop and began moving ever westward, finally settling in Blanco County. Although the owner of four slaves, he sidestepped the Civil War, joining the Confederacy but leading forces in frontier protection, preferring to fight Indians, not Yankees.  

The first time Samuel Walker
went out as a Ranger, he
accompanied Rufus Perry.



Half of the Perry cabin was restored
and brought to Johnson City, but
it has since fallen into disrepair.
 
The Perry cabin would have originally
resembled this other Pedernales River cabin.



Rufus Perry's daughter said 
when she was a little girl, they were
attacked by Indians on their way
home from Fredericksburg. Everyone 
was handed a rifle, including her
and her two brothers. When the smoke
cleared, three Indians lay dead and
another wounded.

Pedernales River - rugged and beautiful.





The end of the Civil War brought about a social collapse in Texas and a period of unprecedented lawlessness. Not only were there bandits harassing ranchers on the border, Indians harassing citizens on the western and northern frontier, there were former soldiers wandering around, suffering from disillusionment and extreme trauma, falling into outlawry. Other ruffians used the defeat of the South as an excuse to go on crime sprees. When it became clear the U.S. government was only too happy for Texas to suffer for her misdeeds, Governor Richard Coke recommended Texas form her own forces to protect the frontier. When the citizens of Blanco County found out, they requested “Old Rufe” Perry be made captain of Company D, and his approval was soon forthcoming. In 1874, at age 53, he was back in the saddle again, wasting no time in raising a company of 75 men.  He immediately put his men out in the field, arming them with shotguns for guard duty, 61 Sharps Carbines, 57 Colt revolvers, and 900 Winchester cartridges for those who carried their own 1873 Winchesters. Capt. Perry organized the fledgling company, getting it off the ground and leading it through skirmishes and battles, but when budget cuts came down from the legislature, he resigned in 1875.  By 1881, life as a Ranger as he knew it had changed and passed him by.

Company D men on the Leona River

A Ranger camp in the 1870s.














             Cicero Rufus Perry began life as a young man full of vigor with a head full of gorgeous dark hair and a dancing gleam in his eyes. Before he died, his face was scarred, with one eye distorted and twitching, and he had to walk with a cane. But he never lost his love of the chase or his sense of humor.



As an old man, he wrote: “when I first wint thair (to Blanco County), there was Indions nearly evry light moon  I was oute verry often but never caught up with them but once  thair was but 2 of us and 40 of them So wee dun the runing.”

Old Rufe had the courage and the grit, packing as much dangerous and exciting service into his lifetime as any other Texas Ranger. People who knew him well liked and respected him. So why isn’t he more famous?

Like his hero Gen. Edward Burleson, Rufus Perry didn’t chase fame. His near illiteracy also held him back. In an era when men refused to say the word “bull” around ladies, his frank earthiness didn’t always fit into polite society. He hadn’t gone off to fight the Yankees with the rest of them, but stayed to do battle on the frontier.

In addition to those drawbacks, Perry had become involved in a relationship with a widow who had eight children. How a man, honorable enough not to participate in the gang rape of an Indian captive on the frontier when very few people would have ever known about it, managed to get himself entangled in a public web of having offspring with a widow while still having children with his wife, is a head-scratching mystery.  

But Cicero Rufus Perry never let the opinions of others get him down. What went on between him, his wife, and his lover, we’ll never know. When he died, old and feeble, he was not at home in Hye with his wife or in Austin with the mother of his other children. He was at a neighbor’s ranch, and they buried him all alone in the Masonic Cemetery in nearby Johnson City, while his wife, who outlived him by several years, chose to be buried in Hye.

At the time of his death, Rufe Perry’s body showed twenty scars made from bullets, arrows, and lances in his quest to retrieve stolen horses, to keep women from being kidnapped and raped, children from being snatched from homes, and to rescue them when they were. If he stumbled sometimes in life, it didn’t matter to his friends and neighbors. They continued to hold him in high esteem.

Perhaps somewhere in another dimension, there are Indians stealing horses with glee from Anglo settlers, and Old Rufe Perry and his fellow Rangers are excitedly saddling up to chase them once again—and neither party gives an owl’s hoot about what we think.  And that’s just as it should be. 



Sources:

“Memoir of Capt'n C.R. Perry of Johnson City, Texas: A Texas Veteran” by Cicero Rufus Perry, edited by Kenneth Kesselus. “Recollections of Early Texas—The Memoirs of John Holland Jenkins,” edited by John Holmes Jenkins III. “Edward Burleson—Texas Frontier Leader” by John H. Jenkins and Kenneth Kesselus. “Moore’s Defeat on the San Saba” Frontier Times Magazine Vol 3 No. 5 February 1926. “One Of Our Texas Queens” Frontier Times Magazine Vol 21 No. 04 - January 1944. “Thrilling Escape of Two of Hays’ Texas Rangers” Frontier Times Magazine Vol 06 No. 11 - August 1929. “Perry, Cicero Rufus (1822–1898)” Handbook of Texas Online. “Savage Frontier: 1838-1839” by Stephen L. Moore. “Winchester Warriors—Texas Rangers of Company D. 1874-1901” by Bob Alexander. “Texas Rangers—Lives, Legend, and Legacy” by Bob Alexander and Donaly E. Brice. Donaly E. Brice Speech, November 8, 2019, Bastrop, Texas. Email Exchanges, Lisa D. Bass, Rufus Perry Cousin, February, 2022.


www.vickyjrose.com www.easyjackson.com












BOOKS

As V.J. Rose 

TREASURE HUNT IN TIE TOWN—Reader’s Favorite Five Star Award

A rancher takes his nephews on an adventurous hunt for buried treasure that lands them in all sorts of trouble. https://www.amazon.com/Treasure-Hunt-Town-V-J-Rose-ebook/dp/B07GL2T2L6/ref=sr_1_1?crid=SFQM7U0AN3FF&keywords=treasure+hunt+in+tie+town&qid=1569773588&s=books&sprefix=treasure+hunt+in%2Cstripbooks%2C201&sr=1-1 

TESTIMONY

Two lonely people hide secrets from one another in a May-December romance set in the modern-day West. https://www.amazon.com/Testimony-V-J-Rose-ebook/dp/B07FBC971J/ref=sr_1_2?crid=SFQM7U0AN3FF&keywords=treasure+hunt+in+tie+town&qid=1569773615&s=books&sprefix=treasure+hunt+in%2Cstripbooks%2C201&sr=1-2 

As Easy Jackson 

A BAD PLACE TO DIE—Will Rogers Medallion Award and A SEASON IN HELL

Tennessee Smith becomes the reluctant stepmother of three rowdy stepsons and the town marshal of Ring Bit, the hell-raisingest town in Texas. https://www.amazon.com/Bad-Place-Tennessee-Smith-Western/dp/0786042540/ref=tmm_mmp_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=1569773439&sr=1-1

https://www.amazon.com/Season-Hell-Tennessee-Smith-Western/dp/0786042567/ref=pd_sbs_14_1/132-7644810-2844345?_encoding=UTF8&pd_rd_i=0786042567&pd_rd_r=f5f73ea9-df93-46e7-b002-87cd61097ca1&pd_rd_w=xTzD8&pd_rd_wg=OsUzo&pf_rd_p=d66372fe-68a6-48a3-90ec-41d7f64212be&pf_rd_r=FDF2CTCM49RMWFJ0WXXC&psc=1&refRID=FDF2CTCM49RMWFJ0WXXC

MUSKRAT HILL—Peacemaker Finalist

A little boy finds a new respect for his father when he helps him solve a series of brutal murders in a small Texas town. https://www.amazon.com/Muskrat-Hill-Easy-Jackson/dp/1432866044/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=muskrat+hill+by+easy+jackson&qid=1581181324&s=books&sr=1-1

Short Stories: 

WOLFPACK PUBLISHING - "A Promise Broken - A Promise Kept"—Spur Award Finalist

A woman accused of murder in the Old West is defended by a mysterious stranger.

https://www.amazon.com/Promise-Broken-Kept-Western-Short-ebook/dp/B07CYP3G3P/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=a+promise+broken+a+promise+kept+by+VJ+Rose&qid=1569773655&s=books&sr=1-1

 THE UNTAMED WEST – “A Sweet-Talking Man” —Will Rogers Medallion Award

 A sassy stagecoach station owner fights off outlaws with the help of a testy, grumpy stranger. A Will Rogers Medallion Award Winner. https://www.amazon.com/Untamed-West-L-J-Washburn-ebook/dp/B07GH7WB58/ref=sr_1_3?keywords=the+untamed+west+anthology&qid=1569773750&s=books&sr=1-3

UNDER WESTERN STARS - "Blood Epiphany"—Will Rogers Medallion Award

A broke Civil War veteran's wife has left him; his father and brothers have died leaving him with a cantankerous old uncle, and he's being beaten by resentful Union soldiers. At the lowest point in his life, he discovers a way out, along with a new thankfulness. A Will Rogers Medallion Award Winner.

https://www.amazon.com/Under-Western-Stars-Richard-Prosch/dp/B08KH3S2KR/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=

 SIX-GUN JUSTICE WESTERN STORIES – “Dulcie’s Reward”

Seventeen-year-old Dulcie is determined to find someone to drive her cattle to the new market in Abilene. https://www.amazon.com/Six-Gun-Justice-Western-Stories/dp/B09FCCLTHQ/ref=tmm_pap_swatch_0?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=


Reenactment Video on YouTube “Blood in the Streets”  https://youtu.be/vrW_uFBGe8Q


 Anthology:

WHY COWS NEED COWBOYS: AND OTHER SELDOM-TOLD TALES FROM THE AMERICAN WEST

“Katie Jennings & John Holland Jenkins: Young Heroes in the Fight for Texas Independence”

https://www.amazon.com/Why-Cows-Need-Cowboys-Seldom-Told-ebook/dp/B08YWJDGZ8/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2S1C6UIQO4IZ9&keywords=why+cows+need+cowboys&qid=1645144537&s=books&sprefix=why+cows+%2Cstripbooks%2C110&sr=1-1

 


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Saturday, June 28, 2014

Archaeology journals as research by Kaye Spencer


Research.

It leads us down paths of new knowledge. It lures us to relinquish precious hours of writing time to pursue the tiniest piece of historical accuracy. But as writers of stories set in historical locations, particularly the American Old West, research is as much a part of our writing process as plotting and characterization. Our stories are incomplete without them.

In a previous blog post, I wrote about the TimeLife books and Old West maps I use in my writing to make sure I get my historical details as correct as possible. Today, I’m sharing another avenue of research—archaeology journals—specifically these two:


  • Archaeology, a publication of the Archaeological Institute of America
  • American Archaeology, a publication of The Archaeological Conservancy

Both journals offer a wealth of information in a quick-read format. While there are feature-length articles, there are also tantalizing snippets of archaeological findings that get me interested and searching for additional information.

An example of a feature-length article is from the May/June 2014 edition of Archaeology titled, “Searching for the Comanche Empire” by Eric A. Powell. You can read the full article and view several images on-line here — www.archaeology.org/comanche — so I won’t go in to a lot of detail, but suffice it to say, the article is a ‘must read’ for anyone interested in the history of the Comanche nation.

This is the opening of the article:

“In a deep gorge in New Mexico, archaeologists have discovered a unique site that helps tell the story of a nomadic confederacy’s rise to power in the heart of North America.”

As a brief summary, archaeologists who have been studying a Comanche encampment in New Mexico’s Rio Grande Gorge near Taos, came across “previously unknown panels of rock art”, which are now challenging the “idea that they [Comanche] left no physical traces behind.

For me, this is as fascinating as it is exciting.

As an aside, a year’s subscription to each magazine (quarterly) is roughly $25. While I’ve embraced digital print with open and welcome arms, for research purposes and looking at images and maps, there is something to be said about having the physical copy, so I’m like a giddy little school girl when my journals arrive in my snail-mail mailbox. ;-)

Until next time,

Kaye

www.kayespencer.com
Fall in love…faster, harder, deeper with Kaye Spencer romances
Twitter: @kayespencer

Monday, December 9, 2013

Review Roundup: Christmas and Candle-making

Wolf Creek: O Deadly Night (Volume 10)
By Ford Fargo
Western Fictioneers, November 2013
$9.99 paperback, ISBN 1493727133
$2.99 Kindle, ASIN B00GFF6SYG
$2.99 other e-formats, ISBN 978-1493727131
188 pages

Wolf Creek series editor Troy D. Smith has a gift for intriguing, often pun-laden, titles. That gift is displayed right up front in Wolf Creek’s tenth overall volume and second Christmas anthology, O Deadly Night.

Like the first collection of holiday-themed short stories (A Wolf Creek Christmas), O Deadly Night visits some of the Kansas cattle town’s familiar denizens and introduces a few newcomers.

At the rate newcomers were spilling from the woodwork in the previous Christmas anthology, it seemed Wolf Creek might explode before 1871 ended. Thankfully, the pace of immigration seems to have slowed by O Deadly Night. Only two new characters are introduced: farmer Hutch Higgins (written by Big Jim Williams) and Irish drifter Kelly O’Brian (Charlie Steel). O’Brian, formerly a track-layer for the railroad, may become a rancher in partnership with his long-lost brother and an easterner…if the three of them survive a white-slavery ring operating way too close to Wolf Creek for comfort. Steel’s “Irish Christmas at Wolf Creek” introduces the sort of never-say-die character Wolf Creek needs with the body count rising as it has been lately.

In Williams’ “Sarah’s Christmas Miracle,” Wolf Creek gets another man trying to live down a shameful past in anonymity. By the time Higgins gets his Christmas wish—a miracle cure for his dying daughter—readers will be privy to the farmer’s darkest secrets, but the citizens of Kansas have no idea the kind of trouble Higgins’ mere presence could attract.

While Cheryl Pierson’s contribution, “A Home for Christmas,” doesn’t exactly introduce new characters, the stars of the story have played only minor roles previously. When Kathleen Hyder decides to leave her abusive, minister husband, she little suspects a chance encounter with a childhood friend, Cherokee Lighthorse officer Carson Ridge, will lead to an affair of the heart. Readers who have followed the series from the beginning probably will delight in seeing judgmental, mean-spirited Rev. Dill Hyder get his comeuppance, and Kathleen and Carson fairly sizzle together.

Chuck Tyrell’s “The Angel Tree” is the most touching of the six stories. Soiled dove Brandy, who previously appeared only long enough to deal with series regular Billy Below’s embarrassing gunshot wound, befriends a group of starving urchins. Outcast because their mothers work as whores in the low-rent cribs, the kids are convinced an angel will deliver them from infamy on Christmas. Tyrell wrings sniffles and smiles from readers with this heartwarming tale.

“The Spirit of Hogmanay,” by Clay More, drops readers into the middle of Dr. Logan Munro’s busy holiday and a minor mystery involving some expensive scotch. As usual, More entertains and educates, providing fascinating—often surprising—medical details laced with Scottish wit and no little charm. Hogmanay, the Scottish New Year’s observance, is a melancholy period, but More spices Munro’s experience with hope for the future.

Smith’s “O Deadly Night,” which lends its title to the entire volume, is the darkest of the tales. As 1871 draws to a close, Marshal Sam Gardner is called upon to put a literal end to a local troublemaker. The deed must be done, and Gardner faces that knowledge with typical stoicism. Afterward, reaction from the townsfolk has him doubting himself and mankind in general. Usually a wiseacre to the core, the marshal reflects on the year in an uncharacteristically morose exchange over a drink with Munro.

O Deadly Night is an entertaining end-of-the-year read—but more than that, it displays the depth and breadth of life in Wolf Creek in a new way. Taken together, the two Wolf Creek Christmas anthologies hint that 1872 may be one heckuva year in Kansas.


“The Art of Dipping Candles”
By Judy Alter
Self-published, February 2011
$0.99 Kindle, ASIN B004M18Q1I
$0.00 other e-formats, ISBN 9781458181565
6 pages

A Comanche raid on a North Texas farm leaves lasting scars on a mother and her preteen daughter in Judy Alter’s ultra-short, powerful “The Art of Dipping Candles.” Told from the young girl’s point of view, the story resonates with fear, a mother’s all-consuming love for her children, and a daughter’s aching loss.

Alter has said she based the story on a real incident that took place in the 1880s, but the emotional punch is universal and timeless.

Read this one. It will haunt you.


Kathleen Rice Adams is a Texan, a voracious reader, a professional journalist, and an author. She received a review copy of Wolf Creek: O Deadly Night from the publisher. Her opinions are her own and are neither endorsed nor necessarily supported by Western Fictioneers or individual members of the organization. Links in the review are for convenience only; they do not produce affiliate revenue.

Saturday, August 31, 2013

SATURDAY MATINEE with TOM RIZZO



THE  SEARCHERS

When first asked to write a blog about my favorite Western film, the Lays Potato Chips slogan, "betcha can't eat just one," flashed into my mind. 


Westerns fall into three categories: the good, the bad, and the ugly. The good ones deliver maximum impact to the storytelling experience. It's difficult to choose from Shane . . . The Magnificent Seven . . . Unforgiven . . . The Good, the Bad and the Ugly . . . The Shootists . . . Tombstone . . . The Wild Bunch . . . High Noon. And, of course, all those Randolph Scott and Audie Murphy films.


At the top of my list is John Ford's The Searchers, a 1956 film ahead of its time. 


The film confronted uncomfortable moral issues - racism and sexism - that American society wouldn't start to address until a couple of decades later. I suppose there's a danger in trying to read too much into a screenplay, but this wasn't just another run-of-the-mill John Ford Cowboys and Indians movie. Of course, I wouldn't appreciate the themes until years later. 

The sometimes-ambiguous story - adapted from a novel by Alan LeMay - centers on an ex-Confederate soldier's long quest to find his nieces, Debbie (Natalie Wood) and Lucy (Pippa Scott), who were kidnapped by renegade Comanches after they attack and slaughter his brother, beloved sister-in-law, and a young nephew. 

John Wayne, in his most demanding emotional role of all the Westerns he starred in, plays Ethan Edwards, a middle-aged Civil War veteran who returns to the home of his brother three years after the war ends. No explanation is provided about where Ethan has been. He brought with him a quantity of Yankee gold coins that his brother Aaron (Walter Coy) agrees to hide. 

When I first saw the film, I felt a little off-balance watching Wayne's Ethan Edwards.


His role took me by surprise because the kind of man he portrayed was so unexpected --the antithesis of his previous roles as the running', gunnin' mythic Western hero I was so used to seeing and rooting for. From the outset, it's clear that Ethan is a man with demons.

When Ethan finds Lucy's defiled body in a canyon near the Comanche camp, her finance, Brad Jorgensen (Harry Carey, Jr) becomes enraged and recklessly rides into the camp on his own and gets killed. For the next five years, Ethan and his adoptive nephew, Martin Pawley (Jeffrey Hunter) conduct a relentless search for 16-year old Debbie and for Scar (Henry Brandon), the Comanche chief who abducted her.

Majestic Monument Valley, situated in Northern Arizona and southwestern Utah, serves as Ford's storytelling canvas, and filmed on land belonging to the Navajos.

The valley is a stand-in for a story that takes place in west Texas in 1868. The landscape plays as integral a role in the film as the actors. Its rugged beauty, utter vastness, and emptiness befits Wayne's vengeful character. 

In The Searchers, Wayne delivers Ethan Edwards as an imperfect protagonist--a dark, brooding, mysterious loner whose eyes and words reflect his undisguised hatred of Indians.  


Ironically, Ethan  seems quite familiar with their language and culture. The character, part psychopath and part racist, is layered with complexity. He's a man who hates beyond the grave. When in one scene, for example, the grave of a dead Indian is discovered, Wayne pulls his gun and fires twice, shooting out the dead man's eyes, telling his nephew that if the Indian has no eyes, he'll be doomed to wander in the winds for eternity.

The nephew, by the way, is one-eighth Cherokee. In yet another plot twist, we learn that Ethan was never comfortable with Martin being a part of the brother's family even though Ethan is the one who found Martin when he was abandoned as an infant. 

Ethan and Martin's journey take them to New Mexico Territory where they are lead to Scar. Debbie, they discover, is now an adolescent and one of the chief's wives.

She meets her uncle and half-brother outside the camp and tells them to leave without her because she has become Comanche. Blinded by rage, Ethan tries to shoot her, but Martin shields her from harm.

Ethan is wounded by an Indian arrow, but the two manage to escape, Martin saves his uncle by tending to the wound, but is furious at Ethan's attempt to kill Debbie, and wishes his uncle dead. "That'll be the day," Ethan responds.

We realize Ethan's commitment to rescue Debbie isn't for any humanitarian reason. He feels compelled to kill her because she has become "the leaven's of a Comanche buck."


The two men return home empty-handed, but later learn of Scar's location and resume the search. Under the command of the Revered Captain Samuel Clayton (Ward Bond), a makeshift band of Texas Rangers, accompanied by Ethan and Martin, locate the camp.

Clayton plans a direct attack, but allows Martin to sneak in and rescue Debbie, who welcomes him. Martin ends up killing Scar.

Ethan provides the finishing touch by scalping the Comanche leader. 

When Debbie sees Ethan, she tries to escape, and he gives chase. Martin is unable to intervene. 


But, instead of killing her, he takes her in his hands, lifts her to the sky, lowers her to his arms, and says, "Let's go home, Debbie."

A promotional synopsis by Warner Brothers stated that "…in his obsessive five-year quest, Ethan encounters something he didn't expect to find: his own humanity."

This sounds too tidy. Too simplistic.  Ethan Edwards, as far as I'm concerned, is far too conflicted for such a neat one-sentence conclusion. Emotions - pain, loneliness, revenge and hate - don't change or vanish with a snap of a finger.



Debbie's rescue provides no evidence Ethan's racist views toward Indians changed in any way. 


Ford, in several scenes, reveals that atrocities committed by the Indians fueled Ethan's hatred and thirst for revenge. Sixteen years earlier, Ethan's own mother was massacred by Comanches.

At the same time, Scar's viciousness stems from his own appetite for revenge: "Two sons killed by white men. For each son, I take many . . .  scalps."


Ford's symmetrical closing of The Searchers reflects the film's opening. 


The director utilized a framed rectangular doorway to introduce Wayne's character at the beginning. At the conclusion, Ford gives us a view of Ethan holding his arm, then walking away - alone - with the cabin door closing on his receding image. (Check out the video snippets).

Does the healing process begin for Ethan? Maybe or maybe not. I doubt it.




The Searchers enjoyed box-office success. The American Film Institute named it the Greatest American Western of all time, even though it received no major Academy Award nominations.

For some strange reason, the New York Times, in a June 12, 1979, obituary of John Wayne, never once mentioned his role in The Searchers. How it could be ignored is baffling.

This is merely a Cliff notes version of The Searchers. There is so much more to this story and the characters who star in its telling.




Last Stand At Bitter Creek
Finalist: Western Fictioneers Peacemaker Award, Best Western First Novel









Friday, May 24, 2013

Writing About Indians When You're Not One


Writing western fiction often means writing about cowboys and Indians. Now, some of us have direct ranching experience and others do not. For those of us whose ranch experience is limited, there is clearly a need to do a lot of research so we at least have some idea what we're talking about. And that does require a good bit of effort. But at least, for most of us, it is only a specific profession and lifestyle, and subculture, we have to learn, not an entire culture that is foreign to us.

Not so with Indians, unless we happen to be one. It is possible to do a large amount of reading and research, and get many technical details right, and still misinterpret or incorrectly characterize some very basic cultural elements of how Indians think and act. Some western/historical fiction authors, nonetheless, have done an excellent job of writing "from the outside" about indigenous peoples. It's a very long list, and includes people like Don Coldsmith, Win Blevins (who, if I recall, does have some Cherokee heritage), Lucia St. Clair Robson, Terry Johnston, Michael Blake, Douglas Jones, and many others -including several of our WF members.

I am not an American Indian, but I have done a lot of research on the subject, including writing a dissertation and earning a Ph.D in it. I teach American Indian history at Tennessee Tech University. I also know a lot of Indians, some of 'em pretty well -some of them also academics, but many of them not. Which is all just a way of getting at the subject of this blog: my goal today is to share with you some basic facts about Indianness that a lot of us wasicu writers miss when we write about them.

I'm going to start with the term "Indian." Sometimes people hear me talking about Indians, and feel the need to correct me- "You mean Native Americans! They are not from India!"

Well, no, they are not from India, and they are native Americans. Since about 1970, Americans have been taught -initially by anthropologists -that calling indigenous peoples "Indians" was both insulting and inaccurate, and we should call them "Native Americans" instead. So, for the most part, we have learned to do just that.

Thing is, around 1995, a poll was taken of people who had self-identified as indigenous on the census, asking which term they preferred. 37% said Native American, but 50% said American Indian (the remainder had no preference.) From what I've seen, I'd say the tilt toward "Indian" has become even more pronounced since then. Since that is the case, scholars who study indigenous peoples have begun using Indian much more than Native American, as a reflection of the actual desires of the people in question. Most Indians, of course, prefer to be called by the name of their tribe or nation; but sometimes, especially for legal purposes, there is a need for a term describing them as a larger group. Why on earth, one might wonder, would they object to "Native American"? The most common reason I've heard is that none of the well-meaning white folks who decided their name should be changed ever bothered to ask them what they thought about it, so Native American is every bit as much an externally imposed generalization as Indian -at least, some say, they were used to the first one. So now academics have the well-deserved task of convincing people it's okay to switch back to a terminology they only dropped in the first place because academics told them to.

Now, on to some things that are more likely to come up in our western fiction.

It is difficult for us non-Indians to understand just how important tribe is to tribal members, in the past and in the present as well.

What is a tribe? It is, essentially, a group of related people. More specifically, a group of clans. In fact, most Indian tribes traditionally placed a great taboo on marrying within your own clan, as a way of keeping the gene pool sufficiently broad. It is KINSHIP, then, that defined (and continues to define) Indians. That kinship was usually literal -even if very extended -but it could also be fictive. That is, a person could enter into your kinship circle without being literally related to you -usually by an adoption ceremony.

In many tribes, only the people within your kinship circle were actually people, or at the very least, it was possible to have peaceful dealings with someone only if they were within your kinship circle (this is why many tribes gave themselves names that translated as The People, The Real People, or The Human Beings.)

Sometimes captives could be adopted into the tribe. At any rate, in order to have diplomatic or trade dealings with outsiders, they had to become insiders somehow.

Let us consider Pocahontas and Captain John Smith.



We all know John Smith's side of the story. He was captured by Powhatan Indians, and their chief was all set to have him executed... but then the chief's daughter, clearly smitten with the dashing English captain, begged for his life and her wish was granted (remember, we know this story because Smith recorded it. Modesty was not his strong suit.)

But let's try to look at it from the Indian perspective.

Chief Powhatan had been working at establishing hegemony in the tidewater region. Along come these new folks, the English... they might be a serious threat. On the other hand, they might be potential allies or at the very least trade partners. But they are outsiders and thus enemies. How to rectify that?

Captives are often adopted as members of the tribe. It is the women of the tribe, not the men, who decide which captives would live and which would die. Sometimes elaborate rituals were acted out, in which potential trade or diplomatic partners were symbolically adopted and brought INTO the kinship circle.

That interpretation actually makes more sense than the one John Smith believed, and which has been passed down to all of us... because of some very basic cultural misunderstandings.

Another important factor to consider is that about three-quarters of North American tribes were matrilineal, not patrilineal like Europeans. That is to say, their lineage was traced through the mother, not the father. When a couple got married, the husband left his clan or tribe and joined that of his wife. Of course, the other one-quarter of tribes WERE patrilineal. For example: Creek Indians were matrilineal, and Shawnees were patrilineal. If your mother were Creek and your father were Shawnee, you would actually have a valid claim of membership in both tribes. But if your mother were Creek and your father were Cherokee (another matrilineal tribe), then you were Creek. Not half-Creek... there was no such thing. Because it's all about the kinship circle. Either you are IN it, or you are NOT, you cannot be halfway.

I like to explain it this way. Let's say you are a Creek man in the 1700s, and you have two sisters. A runaway slave comes to your village, and your people decide to welcome him in... and he marries your sister. He is now a member of your tribe. Then later a white trapper comes into the village, perhaps a man who is unhappy with life in the settlements and prefers to live on the frontier- and he marries your other sister, thus also becoming a member of your tribe.

Now, to a European/American colonist, there would be three men: a red man, a black man, and a white man. But to the Creek Indians, there would simply be three Creek Indians. They look different from one another, but they are all inside the kinship circle, so they are all Creeks and so are their children.

This would change by the mid-19th century, as Southern tribes became "civilized", and terms like mixed-bloods and full-bloods would come into play. But that was not those tribes' traditional way of looking at things. Nor was it the way Plains tribes looked at things, until well after they were forced onto reservations.

Here's another historical example: the first French colonists who dealt with the Choctaws (like all those nations later called the Five Civilized Tribes, they were matrilineal.)

"We come to you from your Great White Father across the waters," the French said, because to them a father was the ultimate authority figure. "We give you these gifts." The gifts were to prove how wealthy and powerful the Great Father was, and instill both a sense of fear and a sense of obligation in the Choctaws. "We gave you this stuff and you accepted it, so we expect you to do what we tell you."

The Choctaws happily took their gifts, and didn't do a single thing the French told them to.

Because in the Choctaw worldview, the greatest male authority figure in your life was either your mother's eldest brother or your maternal grandfather. You're in THEIR clan/tribe, not your father's. (Ever notice how many stories have Indians being taught by their maternal grandfather? This is why.) Your father, on the other hand, was this guy who came around now and then and gave you presents and was your buddy, not the guy who laid down rules and punished you if you disobeyed them. The French are from the Great Father? Then of course they are giving us presents, that is a father's job. It's not his job to tell us what to do -so take the gifts, smile politely, then ignore him. But if the French had said they were from the Great Uncle across the water, there might have been a clearer understanding on the Choctaws' part of what the French were trying to do.

Now, here's something that bothers me sometimes. When discussing Cherokee leader John Ross, textbooks always say things like "Even though John Ross was only 1/8 Cherokee, he was accepted as their leader." That simple statement displays a basic lack of understanding about how Indian tribes worked at the time being discussed. Especially that "even though" part... and the "only"...because adding those words makes it seem very extraordinary indeed that such a man would become the leader of the Cherokee Nation. In fact, some people in the 19th century (and since) have believed that Ross's "white" blood gave him an intrinsic superiority that allowed him to rise to the top- the same thing was said of other Southern Indians, including the Creek leader Alexander McGillivray.

So let me tell you a little bit about John Ross's ancestry.



In 1740, a 20-year-old Scottish fur trader named William Shorey married a 15-year-old Cherokee girl named Ghigooie, from the Red-Tail Hawk Clan. It was common for Cherokees to marry their daughters to fur traders, because that brought the trader into the kinship circle and made it permissible to have dealings with him. Well, that couple had a daughter, and later she was married to another Scottish fur trader. THAT couple had a daughter, and SHE was married to yet another Scottish trader. And that couple had a son that the mother called Guwisguwi, which was the name of a mythical bird, but that the father called John Ross.

Now, the average American at the time looked at John Ross and said "how is this guy chief of the Cherokees? He's actually 7/8 Scottish!" And, in fact, Americans STILL say that, whether in history books or in the classroom.

But here's how the Cherokees saw it.

Ghigooie of the Red-Tail Hawk Clan of Cherokees had a daughter, Anna. Since the Cherokees are matrilineal, Anna was... Cherokee. Anna had a daughter named Mollie. Since Anna was a member of the Red-Tail Hawk Clan, so was her daughter. Not a 1/4 member; you were either a member, or you were not. Mollie had a son named John Ross; his mother was a Cherokee of the Red-Tail Hawk Clan, and therefore so was he. In fact, it was some of the most traditionalist members of the Cherokee leadership that endorsed Ross for Principal Chief... because he, like they, was Cherokee.

This was not just a Southeastern Indian phenomenon. Quanah Parker was the son of a Comanche man and a white woman who had been captured and adopted as Comanche when she was a child. Quanah's followers did not consider him "half-Comanche," but Comanche,  like them. The list could go on.



My point is this. RACE WAS NOT AN INDIAN CONCEPT. It was a white concept. Race only became an Indian concept after any given tribe/nation started adopting the white man's way of thinking about things.

Consider the Lakota word for white people: wasicu. It literally meant "grabs the fat", as in someone who comes into your camp and with whom you are therefore obligated to share your food, but who rudely immediately grabs the very best for themselves. The word had nothing to do with skin color, and everything to do with perceived cultural attributes.

There has been a long tradition in western fiction and drama of portraying the "half-breed" as someone who was part-white and part-Indian, but accepted by neither, because he was not fully one or the other. This IS how white people would have considered him, because they had such an investment in the idea (especially in the 19th century) of "purity" of race. But it is unlikely that his own tribe would have considered him that way, especially if it were a matrilineal tribe and his mother was Indian, or if his white parent of either sex had been adopted into the tribe. It would be very non-Indian for a writer to assume that Indians would feel the same way about racial purity that white people of the time did. That's just the sort of cultural misunderstanding I was thinking of when I mentioned how easy it is for us non-Indians to make mistakes; heck, western writers have been making that mistake for generations.

As an example of how we can try to be more aware, I offer my Wolf Creek character Charley Blackfeather (Plug!! Book 5 is due out very soon!) Charley's father was a runaway slave who married a Seminole woman in Florida. This makes Charley, to his own people, a Seminole, since his mother was one. But to the average American he encounters in and around Wolf Creek, he is a "half-breed." In fact, he confuses some of them, because they're not sure whether he's a black man or an Indian. He is both -but culturally, he is Seminole.

Note: Of all the "civilized tribes", the Seminoles were the most reluctant to develop a racialized hierarchy that debased blacks. Why? Because they were the least "civilized" (mostly because their swampy homeland enabled them to resist domination by whites for the longest of any Southern tribe.) Nineteenth century reality: being "civilized" meant learning to treat blacks as inferiors, thus the more "traditional" a tribe was, the less likely they were to pay much attention to wasicu ideas about race.

I had intended to cover several subtopics in this post.... but so far I've only covered my first bullet point. I guess I'll have to make this a series... that being the case, I'll wrap this one up and await your comments.