The Story Behind Six-Gun Salad

by Richard Prosch

From an everyday greeting as people pass each other on the street, to organized community efforts, small town America often overflows with an abundance of kindness and generosity. But like anywhere else, it can be rife with contention, often hidden, often held tight just below the surface until one wrong word or action sets off a powder keg of enmity. 

When guns are involved, bad feelings can turn deadly in the space of a heartbeat.

You don't have to follow the news closely to know there's been a lot of media coverage about racial tension. 

Students of history know this is nothing new. 

The countries of origin may change, but even in the old west, old-country grudges kept new generations at each others' throats.

All of these thoughts came together writing my new Jo Harper story, SIX-GUN SALAD from Painted Pony Books. Community picnics, but arguments in the street. Individuals working to get along while others held to old their old cultural bias. 

Guns to bring destruction. Or guns to bring justice.

It all got tossed together in the bowl and served up as danger for Jo, Frog and Abby, and hopefully, a reminder of the best and worst of our natures --qualities that often aren't what they might first seem to be. 

Working through the contradictions is important for young and old alike. Another reason I like to think of these stories as good for all ages.

Blurb

Would you cry over spilled potato salad? Would you risk your life for it? Jo Harper can't contain her frustration when a determined Danish lawyer and a hard-headed German farmer get ready to square off with guns over just that.

It's an Elizabethan tragedy-in-the-making unless Jo, Frog and Abby can unravel the threads of a dangerous plot that threatens to tear apart not just two families, but the entire town of Willowby, Wyoming.

Excerpt

"Karl! Karl, that's enough."

To his credit, Svensen listened to his wife and backed away from Schultz. But not before delivering another rotten threat.

"Stay away from us, Kraut. Stay away from my family, away from my house and business. We don't need your kind."

But Schultz wasn't having it.

He stood up with a clumsy stagger and, brushing himself off, delivered a counter-threat.

"You are all mouth and all knuckles because you are bigger than me. But how are you with a gun, counselor? Let me get my gun and we'll see who is better."

Jo thought she saw where Mr. Schultz was going, and though she was an innocent bystander, she was also Abby Drake's deputy constable. She ran between the men.

"Go home, Mr. Schultz. Go home, before you say something you'll regret."

"Stay out of this, Jo," said Svensen, reaching out to brush her aside.

Jo sidestepped the lawyer's reach and again tried to appeal to Schultz.

"Think of your family, sir. Think about Buster. You don't want to do this."

For the first time that night, Schultz seemed to see Jo, really see her, and the look in his eyes didn't belong to a bleary-headed drunk, but to a hurt man hoping to regain his pride.

"I have to, Jo. Sometimes, a man has to do these things."

Jo let Schultz gently push her aside. He stood tall and, in front of her and Mrs. Svensen, said, "Tuesday morning. Seven o-clock in front of the Filter Building. Find a weapon, you scurvy Dane. Find a weapon and prepare to pay the price for your insults."

It wasn't going to be such a quiet week, after all.

Schultz had just challenged the lawyer to a gunfight!

 Leave a comment for a chance at a free copy of Richard Prosch's Six-Gun Salad.

 Buy Links  B&N Nook   Amazon   Smashwords    Kobo

Meanwhile, the first book in the Jo Harper series, WAITING FOR A COMET, is free for Kindle until August 14.

After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com

Wild West Words: Them’s Fightin’ Words

By Kathleen Rice Adams

"Busted," Charles M. Russell, c. 1920

Fighting—over insults, over ideals (as in war), or just for fun—has been a popular pastime since the first person drew the first breath. There’s a reason the American West was called “wild”: Folks on the frontier seemed ready to throw a punch or unshuck a weapon with the slightest provocation, at least if popular myth is anywhere near the truth.

Nineteenth-century words and phrases relating to fighting, things that could provoke a fight, and means of stopping a fight are below.

At outs with: no longer on friendly terms with; from about 1826. Became “on the outs with” around 1900.

Bantam: small, aggressive person; first documented in 1837. Extension of the 1749 name for a a breed of chicken discovered on Bantam, a Dutch colony in Java. As a lightweight class in boxing, use is attested from 1884. “Banty” is a dialectical corruption of the word.

Beat the living daylights out of: thrash, punish, chastise. Americanism; arose 1880s based on the late-18th Century threat to “let daylight into” a foe. The original phrase meant intent to kill by sword, knife, bullet, or other deadly weapon, but as the force of law began to catch up with the U.S.’s western frontier, the phrase was softened to lessen the perceived risk of hanging for murder should the target of the threat be found dead.

Below the belt: unfair; arose 1889 from boxing.

Bulldozer: person who intimidates by violence. Arose during 1876 U.S. presidential election, along with related “bulldose,” meaning “a severe beating” (literally, “dose fit for a bull”). Both were slang associated with aggressive intimidation of Negro voters in the North and the former Confederate states. Bulldozer acquired its current meaning, “ground-clearing tractor,” in the 1930s based on the image of bulls shoving one another around during dominance displays.

Call [someone] out: challenge, especially to a duel or fight. Arose c. 1823.

Cold shoulder: icy reception; deliberate coldness or disregard; a snub. Arose mid-1850s, evidently as a sarcastic reference to the European elite setting out hot feasts for their guests while the poor were able to afford only a cold shoulder of mutton (not a well-regarded meal). Sir Walter Scott is credited with creating the figurative sense c. 1816 by using “cold shoulder of mutton” to convey a deliberate intention to be rid of an unwanted guest. Americans, as usual, clipped the phrase.

"Not a Chinaman's Chance, Charles M. Russell, 1894

Come off the rimrock: back away from a discussion that has turned unfriendly. Attested from the 1860s in the American West.

Comeupance/comeuppance: Get what’s coming to you. 1859, presumably rooted in the phrase “come up,” meaning present oneself for judgment or trial.

Crotchety: irritable, contrary, grouchy. Arose c. 1825 from late-14th Century French crotchet, literally a small hook. In English, crotchet came to mean a perverse, capricious or eccentric notion c. 1800.

Dander: ire, irritation, temper, strong emotion. Entered American English c. 1831: “Don’t get your dander up.” Exact origin unclear, but may have been based on the slightly older (1825) shortening of dandruff (loose flakes of skin; mid-1500s), Spanish redundar (to overflow), or West Indies dunder (fermentation of sugar).

Dustup/dust-up: fight; brawl. Arose c. 1897; Americanism. Most likely a colorful reference to brawlers raising dust as they duked it out, but also may have roots in the late-16th Century usage of dust to mean confusion or disturbance. In the 1680s, to “dust [someone’s] coat” meant to deliver a sound thrashing.

Faceoff/face-off: disagreement (often silent, using only eye contact) that might turn physical. Arose c. 1893 as an extension of the boxing term that first appeared in 1867.

Face the music: Arose 1850 in U.S. congressional debates, probably as a reference to actors facing the orchestra pit—which sat between the audience and the stage—when delivering particularly dramatic lines or soliloquies.

Fired up: angry; arose c. 1824 in the American West. The meaning “throw someone out of a place”—a saloon, for example—arose c. 1871, probably from a play on the two meanings of “discharge”: “to dismiss from a position” and “to fire a gun, the latter of which dates to the 1520s.

Fistiana: anecdotes about pugilists; boxing lore. From 1839.

Get in [one’s] hair: persistently annoy, vex, or irk. First appeared in print in the Oregon Statesman in 1851, though the expression undoubtedly is older. Etymologists speculate the phrase originally may have compared an irritating person to head lice.

"Smoke of a .45," Charles M. Russell, 1908

Gunfight/gun-fight: combat with handguns. American English c. 1889; combination of “gun” and “fight.”

Hold your horses: settle down; take it easy; be patient. Original usage was literal: During harness races at American county fairs, horses picked up on their drivers’ nerves, often resulting in a false start. Consequently, announcers frequently admonished participants to “hold your horses.” First appearance in print: New Orleans Times Picayune, 1844.

Hot air: unsubstantiated statements; empty, exaggerated or pretentious talk; boasting. Probably from observation of a flaccid balloon puffing up and rising as it fills with heated air. Colloquialism; may have arisen as early as 1835-40 but was in common use during the latter half of the 19th Century.

Humps and grumps: surly remarks; a fit of ill humor. Arose c. 1844 from the adjective “grumpy” (c. 1778), which most likely arose as an extension of “grum,” meaning morose or surly (also possibly related to Danish grum, meaning cruel). By 1900, the “humps and” had dropped off and “grump” had become a common term for a disagreeable person. (In this case the adjective appears to have given rise to the noun, instead of vice-versa as was more common.)

Keep your shirt on: be patient; calm down. The Americanism arose c. 1904 from prizefighting. Because organized boxing was illegal in much of the U.S. until the 1920s—not because of the violence, but because gambling and organized crime quickly attached to the sport—pugilists waited to remove their shirts and engage until they were reasonably certain a police raid would not be forthcoming. Men fighting fully clothed was considered a spontaneous brawl; men fighting half-naked indicated forethought.

Knock-down drag-out: violent fight. Arose c. 1859 in the U.S.

Knockout/knock-out: as pertains to general fighting, arose 1887 from the phrase “knock out,” meaning “to stun by a blow for a 10-count,” in boxing. Slang meaning “attractive person” is from 1892. To knock oneself out, meaning “make a great effort,” is from 1936.

Lather: state of agitation. Arose c. 1839 from the 1650s application of the Old English word for “soap suds” to the violent sweating of horses under stress.

"Buccaroos," Charles M. Russell, 1902

Lock horns: Arose 1839 in the American West from observation of the way cattle butted heads during dominance displays.

Manhandle: to handle roughly. First recorded use 1865, from the earlier nautical meaning “to move by force of men” (instead of using tackle or levers). The nautical connotation arose from the mid-15th Century meaning “to wield a tool”; the 1865 connotation seems more closely related to the late-15th Century common usage meaning “to attack an enemy.”

Mexican standoff: stalemate; impasse. First documented use 1891, though the expression may be older. “Stand-off,” meaning draw or tie, arose c. 1843. Though some sources claim “Mexican standoff” is Australian in origin, a more likely source is Texas, where Mexican bandidos routinely crossed the border for nefarious purposes. Originally, the idiom referred to three mutual enemies facing each other with drawn weapons. If A shot B, C would shoot A, thereby winning the conflict. Everyone wanted to be C, so nobody fired—leaving the dispute unresolved.

Pull in your horns: calm down; back away from a fight. Mid-1800s among cowboys in the American West as a reference to cattle battling with their horns.

Pull up: check a course of action. First recorded use 1808 as a figurative reference to pulling on the reins to stop a horse.

Rough/rough up: beat up or jostle violently; first documented use 1868.

Roundhouse: blow delivered by the fist with a wide sweep of the arm. Arose latter half of the 19th Century from the 1856 use of roundhouse to describe the circular shed with a turntable at the center for repositioning locomotives.

Scrap: fight. First attested 1846, possibly as a variant of scrape, which came to mean “abrasive encounter” or “scheme, villainy, vile intention” in the 1670s.

Scrappy: inclined to fight. First documented appearance 1895, from scrap.

Sockdolager: a heavy, finishing blow; a conclusive argument. First documented appearance 1830 from the 1700s “sock,” meaning “to beat, hit hard, pitch into.” Sockdolager is assumed to have arisen from the conflation of “sock” and “doxology,” meaning finality. The word shifted meaning to “something exceptional” in 1838. “Sockdologising” (confronting with a forceful argument) likely was one of the the last words Abraham Lincoln heard. During the performance of Tom Taylor’s Our American Cousin, assassin John Wilkes Booth—an actor who had performed in the play—waited for the humorous line “Well, I guess I know enough to turn you inside out, you sockdologising old man-trap.” Amid the laughter that erupted from the audience, Booth fired the fatal shot.

Smack: hit with an open palm; slap. Attested from 1823; presumed to be imitative of the sound of flesh meeting flesh with force.

Spat: petty quarrel. Arose c. 1804 as American slang. Of unknown origin, but perhaps from the notion of “spitting” words.

Wild and woolly: untamed; rowdy. Americanism first documented in 1855 in The Protestant Episcopal Church Quarterly Review and Register (“wild and woolly-haired Negrillo”). In the post-Civil War years, as dime novels and newspaper accounts popularized sensational tales about Indians, outlaws, lawmen, land and gold rushes, etc. in the new territories, the alliterative phrase “wild and woolly West” became a popular way for Easterners to describe the entire region west of the Mississippi River.

Winded: tired; out of breath; rendered temporarily breathless. Arose c. 1802 as a boxing term used in reference to the effect of a punch in the stomach.

Yank: sudden blow; cuff. American English from 1818.

A Texan to the bone, Kathleen Rice Adams spends her days chasing news stories and her nights and weekends shooting it out with Wild West desperados. Leave the upstanding, law-abiding heroes to other folks. In Kathleen’s stories, even the good guys wear black hats. Her short story “The Second-Best Ranger in Texas” won the 2014 Peacemaker Award for Best Western Short Fiction.

Visit her home on the range at HoleInTheWebGang.com.

Whooping it Up: Poker

 When a new town popped up in the Old West, recreation was among the first of the services offered. And that recreation typically involved the "Three W's" -- whiskey, whoring and wagering. We've already dealt with the first two subjects, so let's talk about some of the many ways a cowboy could be parted from his money in a gambling hall.

Poker

The game we know today as poker got its American start in New Orleans. In the early 1800's, French settlers played a card game that involved bluffing and betting, called Poque. From there, the game spread to the Western frontier via riverboats, on which gambling was a common pastime. The exact origins of the game are unknown. Poker may have evolved from a 16th Century Persian game called As Nas, which was played with a 25 card deck containing five suits, with rules similar to today's five card stud. However, the game may also have been invented by the Chinese in 900 A.D. An early form of the game, called Brag, was played with three cards per player, and involved a lot of bluffing.

In 1829, Poker was played with a deck made up of just 20 cards: Ace, King, Queen, Jack and 10 of each of the four suits. Each game had only four players, who were dealt a hand made up of five cards. There was no draw in the original game: you played the original hand you were dealt.

Poker hand rankings were different in the Old West, too, with combinations called things like “full” and “triplets.” These were similar to today’s full house and three-of-a-kind, respectively. Because of the cards involved in the game, the only straight flush in the game was a Royal Flush. The lack of cards below 10 made straight flush hands irrelevant, and this hand ranking was only added after the expansion to a 52-card deck.

During the California Gold Rush of 1849, San Francisco replaced New Orleans as the gambling center of the United States. Around this time, the 52-card deck had been adopted for poker, along with new rules that included draw poker and the flush. The straight was not added to the game until after the Civil War, and a non-drawing, "stud" version of the game was introduced. The first "wild card" poker was seen around 1875.

The type of poker game most typically played west of the Mississippi would have been "Jackpots," an old-fashioned term that referred to what is now called Five-Card Draw, Jacks or Better." It was this game that Doc Holliday and Wild Bill Hickock played, and which replaced faro as the card game of the Wild West.

Ante: a small bet each player is required to make in order to stay in the game

Bluff: to attempt to mislead other players about the strength of your hand, especially if you are trying to convince them that you have a better hand than you actually do

Call: to contribute the minimum amount of money to the pot that is needed to continue playing a hand; this depends on the amount bet by the initial player

Check: to pass on a bet until the other players have gone; at the end of the round, you must either call, raise or fold

Dealer: the person who shuffles the deck and passes out the cards

Draw Poker: a variation of the game in which players are dealt a complete hand at the beginning of the game, and then given the opportunity to replace some of the cards with a second deal in an attempt to improve their hand

Flush: a hand consisting of five cards of the same suit

Fold: to withdraw from the game, giving up whatever you may have bet so far; the signal is to place your cards face-down onto the table. You only fold when there is no chance that your hand could win

Four of a Kind: a hand containing all four cards of the same rank, such as four jacks

Full House: a hand containing three of one type of card and two of another

Hand: the cards dealt to each player

Hole Cards: in stud poker, the cards dealt face-down

Pair: two cards of the same rank

Pot: the money bet by players, traditionally piled in the center of the table

Raise: to bet more than the minimum required to call, forcing other players to put in the difference between their bet and the new bet in order to remain in the game

Ranking: From highest value to lowest value, the possible hands are

• Royal Flush
• Straight Flush
• Four of a Kind
• Full House
• Flush
• Straight
• Three of a Kind
• Two Pair
• One Pair
• High Card (if nobody has any of the above, whoever has the card with the highest value wins)

Royal Flush: Ace, King, Queen, Jack and Ten of one suit; the highest possible hand in standard poker

Show-down: if more than one player remains in the game until after the final betting round, players must turn their cards face-up to determine which hand is the winner

Straight: a hand with cards in numerical order, but not of the same suit

Straight Flush: a hand with cards in numerical order and of the same suit

Stud Poker: a variation of the game in which some cards are dealt face up and some are face down, with several betting intervals in one game.

Suit: one of four categories that the cards are divided into; consists of spades and clubs (black cards) and hearts and diamonds (red cards); each suit contains cards numbered 1-10, along with a jack, queen, king and ace.

Three of a Kind: a hand containing three cards of the same rank

Wild Card: at the beginning of the deal, one card rank may be announced to be "wild," meaning that cards of that rank may be declared by their holder to be any other rank needed to complete their hand.

J.E.S. Hays

www.jeshays.com

hays.jes@gmail.com

Sources:

http://holdemrealmoney.com

Legends of America website

http://realmoney.durrrchallenge.com

World Series of Poker website

My apologies

I must apologize for being negligent, the past three months, in getting my blog done. Time just keeps getting away from me. Even with a big reminder note on my desk, I plumb forgot again.. I promise, next month, I will talk about the Texas Rangers and their role in the development of the Colt revolver.

"Ranger" Jim

Storytelling for Author Marketing

My books (and most fiction, certainly most Western Fiction) are about values and how values are lived and kept alive across the years and the generations.  I mentioned once before in this blog that I thought those themes create the foundation for a marketing program.  I’m still working on it, but something interesting happened.

A wealth management firm (called a multi-family office) sent me a brochure, a “White Paper” entitled “The 25 Best Practices of Multi-Generational Families.” They sent it, not because I am wealthy, but since I used to be in that profession, they thought I might help them find some more clients.  It struck me that it was exactly on the point I was suggesting for brand building and marketing of Western Fictioneers (the authors, not the organization.)

Below, I pick five of their 25 and discuss how western fiction can demonstrate best practice.
 

Shared Values

Any western fiction that shows the influence of prior generations demonstrates shared values.  My books are built on shared values because three generations founded a county and every one of those three generations was aware of their role, the role of all who came before, and their expectations of the role that would be played by those who came after.  It is just as true for the story of a single generation.  Remember the teenage girl avenging her father’s death?
  

Conflict Resolution

Facing conflict, reasoning it out, and recognizing that it is never resolved until the “right” solution is achieved is the model that western fiction contributes to everyday life.  Of course, there is often the initial period when one or more parties attempt to avoid, ignore, or duck the conflict.  There is the middle period when someone tries to bully his way through.  And there is the risk that the final stage will be elongated because the wrong view of the right solution holds sway for an extended time and a number of tries.  

No family wants to think of an armed showdown, but even the Gunfight at the OK Corral follows this pattern.  For sure, you can read it to generate a discussion of what the family should prefer to do.
 

Planning for Major Life Events

How many major life events are there?  I will assert there are five. Birth, marriage, death, success, failure.  In any person’s life, this may be multiplied generationally, so there may be 10 or 15, but they are the same five, repeated.  Not every western deals with every life event.  Some only deal with death and failure. 

My bet is your story shows how your characters planned for major life events.  They may not have done it well.  That is as valuable in discussing best practices as when he or she sails through life’s events prepared in advance and responding perfectly. 

Parenting Skills

My favorite, bar none.  Every western has a parent and a child, whether they are both on the page or not.  Parenting skills in my books are front and center because my characters know they are creating a place and a society in which their children will live.  That also requires preparing their children to live in the place and society they have created. 

The lack of parenting skills or the lack of attention to parenting skills also shows through clearly.  I hope “shows” is the conclusion my readers draw because I think the lack of attention to parenting is evil and I want to go as far as I can in exposing that without making a journalistic statement of opinion.  Hence, in my stories, showing it is all that is allowed.  In this blog, saying it outright is o.k.

Support for Philanthropy

This is such a big word, no one in any of my books could ever get his tongue around that many syllables.  What he, and particularly she, would do, however, is demand that their family be generous.  The offer of a meal at a campfire by people who have no idea where their next meal will come from is about the same level of generosity as the widow’s mite story in the Bible. (Mark 12:41-44 and Luke 21:1-4)  It is not an argument for living in poverty, it is an example of true generosity, a rebuke of the highly publicized sizable gift by the wealthy who won’t miss it. 

People in Western Fiction are generous.   Let me make that more precise.  No bad guy ever makes a generous move or act.  The second he does, the reader has to suspect that he is not all that bad.  Indeed, if ever a good guy makes a selfish move, that same reader suspects he is not all that good. 

I am not arguing for superficial characters; I am asserting that in what you have written, you will find characters who are generous in word and deed and, perhaps not always, but often, they are teaching others – especially the reader – how to behave, how to support philanthropy.
 

You’ll notice there aren’t any particular examples in the above.  I can give you a load of examples from my work, but my hope is this blog will spark you and you will create ideas/examples out of your work.  I’ll give you one example, on parenting skills, and, admittedly, it is a grandparent:

Sheriff Simms liked to tell stories.  It gave the boy a chance to learn something without being taught so damn much.

With a moment’s thought you can see how this can generate a long discussion ranging from parental behavior to how to teach, with teaching by example always being preferred.  A Best Practice!

Promote Your Writing by Storytelling

This notion of how to promote your writing by storytelling has 1,880,000 more Google hits than me.  I’m as much a novice here as I am with my own writing, but I think it has broad application for commercial reasons and for charitable purposes.  I’m hoping this will stimulate your thinking – and I’m hoping it will stimulate my sales.  

 E-mail Edward Massey with comments, author of 2014 Gold Quill winner, Every Soul Is Free and Amazon ABNA 2009 Quarter-finalist, Telluride Promise.

Zephyr Bosom Pads and other trivia from 1875 @JacquieRogers #western

Website | Pickle Barrel Gazette | Amazon

First of all, I'm in fine fettle today because I just found out that the third book in my Hearts of Owyhee series, Much Ado About Miners, won a Laramie Award for Western Romance/Comedy Novel.  I attribute that directly to Dr. VonSouter's Medicine Show.  So thank you, Keith.  The Laramie Contest is sponsored by Chanticleer Book Reviews, and I'll be attending the conference in September, so if you're in Bellingham, WA, stop by and say hi.

Now it's time to get back to the newspapers--the 1870s newspapers, that is.  These articles are all from The Owyhee Avalanche, the oldest newspaper in Idaho, and currently based in my hometown, Homedale.  They have a good sense of humor there, and since I'm in good humor (the award and all), I picked out a few articles that show the Silver City residents' lighter side.

We might as well start with fashion.  In the old days, fellows liked their ladies a bit on the plump side, as evidenced by this article published July 24, 1875.

I'm not sure what zephyr bosom pads are, but I know that the online dictionary said "bosom," meaning a woman's breasts, wasn't in use until the 1920s.  Well here it is.  1875.  Take that, dictionary.

It seems like no matter where you go, someone wants to make off with someone else's stuff.  This report was also printed in the July 24, 1875 issue.  I'd say Mr. Lord robbed the wrong person, and definitely stayed in town too long.

Speaking of Dr. Souter, here's a report of a bullet extraction in the July 17, 1875 issue.  I don't know many men these days whose first name is Patsey.  That would get you shot right there.  Maybe Keith will tell us why Dr. Peters left the bullet in Patsey's leg for three months before removing it.

This next article is about a saloon brawl, which isn't funny at all, but the wording in the July 3, 1875, article made me laugh.

I don't think I've ever read a newspaper from any era that didn't complain about the state of the roads.  It appears the ruts were impeding their fun.  This is from July 17, 1875.

And I learned a whole new term: caterer.  I don't think they're talking about serving cute little sandwiches at parties in this next article.

So that's what happened in Silver City, Idaho Territory, in July of 1875.  The people weren't so different, but the reporting was a lot more interesting!

May your saddle never slip.

Hearts of Owyhee

Much Ado About Madams

Much Ado About Marshals

Much Ado About Miners

Much Ado About Mavericks

Much Ado About Mustangs

Amazon Author Page

Facebook | Pickle Barrel Bar & Books | Twitter | Pinterest | Tsu

Vanished Arizona – the trip

In his foreword to Martha Summerhayes’s Vanished Arizona, Dan L. Trapp, well-known expert on things Apache, had this to say about the book.

“Vanished Arizona has won a secure place among the essential primary records of the frontier-military West, a status it is unlikely to lose.”

With this in mind, I hope to take our Western Fictioneers on a trip into and around Arizona, as seem through the eyes of an officer’s wife.

Returning from a sojourn in Germany, Martha tells us how it all got started. “As the vessel had been about given up for lost, her arrival was somewhat of an agreeable surprise to all our friends, and to none more so that my old friend Jack, a second lieutenant of the United States army, who seemed so glad to have me back in America, that I concluded the only thing to do was join the army myself.

Fort Russel 1925

“A quiet wedding in the country soon followed my decision, and we set out early in April of the year 1874 to join his regiment, which was stationed at Fort Russell, Cheyenne, Wyoming Territory.”

At Fort Russell, Martha’s first experience in an army post, she learned of the pecking order among officers.

“Fort Russell was a large post, and the garrison consisted of many companies of cavalry and infantry. It was all new and strange to me.

“Soon after luncheon, Jack said to Major Wilhelm, ‘Well, now, I must go and look for quarters: what’s the prospect?’

“’You will have to turn someone out,’ said the Major, as they left the house together.

“About an hour afterwards they returned, and Jack said, ‘Well, I have turned out Lynch; but,’ he added, ‘as his wife and child are away, I do not believe he’ll care very much.’”

Martha Summerhayes

Martha expressed her sympathies, saying she didn’t really want to turn people out of their quarters, and the major told her how things were.

“The Major and his wife smiled, and the former remarked, ‘You must not have too much sympathy: it’s the custom of the service—it’s always done—by virtue of rank. They’ll hate you for doing it, but if you don’t do it they’ll not respect you. After you’ve been turned out once yourself, you will not mind turning others out.’”

Martha also got an introduction to army use of alcohol. “The Major insisted upon making me acquainted with the ‘real old-fashioned army toddy’ several times a day—a new beverage for me, brought up in a blue-ribbon community, where wine-bibbing and whiskey drinking were rated as belonging to only the lowest classes. . . . Is it to be wondered at that I and Adams (the enlisted man assigned to the officer) prepared the most atrocious meals that ever a new husband had to eat?”

Talking about setting up house, Martha said, “We were obliged to be very economical, as Jack was a second lieutenant, the pay was small and a little in arrears, after the wedding trip and the long journey out.”

And, talking of her housekeeping skills, “Of course, like all New England girls of that period, I knew how to make quince jelly and floating islands, but of the actual, practical side of cooking, and the management of a range, I knew nothing.”

Then Jack and Mattie, as Martha Summerhayes was called, were assigned to a post in Arizona. The trip to their new assignment is worth taking a look at, I think. Said Martha: “For it must be remembered that in 1874 there were no railroads in Arizona, and all troops which were sent to that distant territory either marched overland through New Mexico, or were transported by steamer from San Francisco down the coast, and up the Gulf of California to Fort Yuma, from which point they marched up the valley of the Gila to the southern posts, or continued up the Colorado River by steamer, to other points of disembarkation, whence they marched to the posts in the interior, or the northern part of the territory.”

Martha and Jack sailed from San Francisco on the steamship “Newbern” under command of Captain Metzger. Six companies crowded the old ship, under command of a Lieutenant Colonel named Wilkins.

At Cabo San Lucas, where the boat took on cattle (to eat, it seems), Martha had this to say: “It was now the middle of August and the weather had become insufferably hot, but we were out of the long swell of the Pacific Ocean; we had rounded Cape St. Lucas, and were steaming up the Gulf of California (Sea of Cortez), towards the mouth of the Great Colorado, whose red and turbulent waters empty themselves into this gulf, at its head.

The Gila

After 13 days at sea, the steamship anchored a mile off Port Isabel, where passengers were transferred to flat-bottomed river boats if they were officers and barges towed by the river boats if they were enlisted men. August is hurricane season, and the winds in the Gulf of California were stiff, and the steamship had to lay off Port Isabel for three days until the winds died down a bit. Martha writes: “This was excessively disagreeable. The wind was like a breath from a furnace; it seemed as though the days would never end, and the wind would never stop blowing. Jack’s official diary says: One soldier died today.

Finally, on the fourth day, the wind abated, and the transfer was begun. We boarded the river steamboat Cocopah, towing a barge loaded with soldiers, and steamed away for the slue (a deep area in the river). I must say that we welcomed the change with delight. Towards the end of the afternoon, the Cocopah put her nose to shore and tied up.

“The soldiers went into camp on shore. The heat down in that low, flat place was intense. Another man died that night.

“Jack’s diary records: ‘Aug. 23^rd. Heat awful. Pringle died today.’ He was the third soldier to succumb.

“Jack said, ‘You mustn’t cry, Mattie; it’s a soldier’s life, and when a man enlists, he must take his chances.’”

Martha saw the army wives transferring to the boat for the return trip to San Francisco. She remarked: “The women’s clothes looked ridiculously old-fashioned, and I wondered if I should look that way when my time came to leave Arizona.”

Summerhayes's book

Riverboat steamers often had it tough. Martha explained: “We spent seven days in and out of that slue. Finally, on August the 26^th, the wind subsided and we started up river. . . . At the end of two more days the river had begun to narrow, and we arrived at Fort Yuma, which was at that time the post best known to, and most talked about by army officers of any in Arizona. No one except old campaigners knew much about any other post in the territory.”

They got a bit of reprise at Fort Yuma. “It fell to our lot to go to breakfast with Major and Mrs. Wells, and Miss Wilkins. . . . I can never forget the taste of the oatmeal with fresh milk, the eggs and butter, and delicious tomatoes, which were served us in his latticed dining room. . . . After twenty-three days of heat and glare, and scorching winds, and stale food, Fort Yuma and Mr. Haskell’s dining-room seemed like Paradise.”

They proceeded on up the Colorado on the steamboat Gila. She observed, “There was no ice, and consequently no fresh produce. A Chinaman served as steward and cook, and at the ringing of a bell we all went into a small saloon back of the pilothouse, where the meals were served. . . . the awful heat destroyed both our good looks and our tempers.”

She goes on about the meager fare, and then says: “Chinamen, as we all know, can make pies under conditions that would stagger most chefs.”

Unlike the clear water in the Colorado River today, when Martha Summerhayes made her trip, the sandbars along the way moved and grew and disappeared regularly. She wrote: “On one occasion, I said, ‘Oh! Captain, do you think we shall get off this bar today?’ ‘Well, you can’t tell,” he said with a twinkle in his eye; ‘one trip, I lay fifty-two days on a bar,’ and then after a short pause, ‘but that don’t happen very often; we sometimes lay a week, though: there is no telling; the bars change all the time.’”

Martha also tells us about Indian maidens. “Sometimes the low trees and brushwood on the banks parted, and a young squaw would peer out at us. . . . They wore very short skirts made of stripped bark, and as they held back the branches of the low willows, and looked at us with curiosity, they made pictures so pretty that I have never forgotten them.”

Scene from Fort Mojave

When the captain said they would soon reach Ehrenberg, Martha was excited because she thought a city was just around the bend. Imagine her disappointment. She wrote, “I did not go ashore. Of all the dreary, miserable-looking settlements that one could possibly imagine, that was the worst. An unfriendly, dirty, and Heaven-forsaken place, inhabited by a poor class of Mexicans and half-breeds. . . . We left Ehrenberg with no regrets, and pushed on up river.” She also said the scenery was grand, but who could enjoy scenery in temperatures ranging from 107 to 122 in the shade.

Martha and Jack and their companies disembarked at Fort Mojave. When next we meet, we’ll read how Martha Summerhayes saw Arizona while crossing the Mojave Desert.

The Snake Den is set in Yuma Prison ca. 1882
when 14-year-old Shawn Brodie was
sentenced to 3 years for something
he didn't do.