Black Bart, Gentleman Outlaw by Nancy J. Farrier

Wells Fargo Stage

The Wells Fargo stagecoach skidded to a stop in front of the armed man, clad in a long, soiled duster. His face and head were covered with an old flour sack with two holes cut for him to see through. His double-barreled shotgun, held at a jaunty angle, suggested he would put it to use in an instant if the driver didn’t stop.

“Please, throw down the box.” The bandit called out to the driver, then glancing around at the rocks, he raised his voice to be heard by everyone. “If he dares shoot, give him a volley, boys.” The stagecoach driver’s heart thumped as he noted at least six guns pointed at him from the surrounding rocks. 

The driver grabbed the strongbox from underneath his seat and tossed it down to the outlaw. He called back to his passengers to stay calm and not panic. One of the women became so distraught she threw her purse out to the outlaw. The hooded bandit crossed to the bag, picked it up and handed it back in to the woman. He said, “Madam, I do not wish your money.” Thus, the robber earned the name, Black Bart, the gentleman outlaw. 

Charles Boles, (Black Bart, aka Charles Bolton) resided in San Francisco in the 1870’s. He was an older gentleman in his 50’s with white hair, a nice grandfatherly type. He preferred fancier clothes, walked about with a cane, and enjoyed strolling about his neighborhood. No one who knew him would have guessed he also had lived a life as a bandit. Not this refined gentleman. 

Black Bart was different than many outlaws. He worked alone and didn’t rob every stage he heard about. He invested his money in small businesses, and only robbed Wells Fargo stages when he needed more funds. He loved stay in nice hotels and eat at fine restaurants. 

Bart treated women with great respect, as he did all the victims on the stages he robbed. On more than one occasion he refused to take the valuables and money from a flustered lady passenger. He always tried to assure them he meant no harm to them, but only wanted what Wells Fargo had to offer. 

Charles Boles knew of a popular dime store novel featuring a feared outlaw dressed in black. When he took the name of Black Bart, he capitalized on a known fear, even though he never dressed in black and didn’t resemble the description of the dime store novel’s outlaw. The one thing all the stage drivers remembered about Bart was his clear, blue eyes, shining out from the holes in the flour sack. They couldn’t forget the color of those eyes.

Black Bart began to write poems, which he left at the site of his robberies. He signed them P o 8, which stumped the lawmen who were trying to catch him. He always disappeared without a trace. Even the poems gave no clue as to who Bart might be or where to find him.

Black Bart’s life of crime came to an end after a robbery he committed in November 1883. The sheriff who investigated the robbery examined the ground closely and found a handkerchief which contained a laundry mark. The handkerchief was taken to San Francisco and a search began for the laundry that used this mark. They found the correct laundry and as they were questioning the owner, Charles Boles, the owner of the handkerchief came through the doors.

Boles spent over six years in prison, but the story has it that after he was released, he disappeared. Another robbery occurred and the bandit left a poem. Upon examination it was agreed this poem was a copycat. Rumor has it that Bart was so successful in his efforts against Wells Fargo that the company paid him a yearly stipend to cease from robbing their stagecoaches, and he did.

Have you ever heard about Black Bart, the gentleman bandit? Can you guess why he signed his notes P o 8? Thank you for stopping by.

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, New York Times best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

Sarah Winnemucca - Advocate and Author by Nancy J. Farrier

Sarah Winnemucca, daughter of Chief Winnemucca, granddaughter of Chief Truckee (Chief of the whole Piute Nation), spent her adult life making people aware of the plight of her people. During her life, she worked as an educator, military scout and interpreter, and advocate of Native American Rights. Her book, Life Among the Piutes, by Sarah Winnemucca Hopkins, published in 1883, details the treatment of her people at the hands of the government. (For research, I started reading her book and couldn't put it down.)

Born sometime in 1844, Sarah was given the name, Thocmetony, which means shell flower. In her early years in Northern Nevada, the Paiutes and Washos were the only people inhabiting the area. Sarah talks in her book about the spring Festival of the Flowers where all the girls who had flower names would search to see if their flower was in bloom. They would gather the flowers and make wreaths, crowns or scarves to wear as they danced. As they walked, or danced, they would sing to themselves. The young men would often dance alongside them, especially if they were a sweetheart.

Shell Flower

Here is what Sarah would sing: “I, Sarah Winnemucca, am a shell-flower, such as I wear on my dress. My name is Thocmetony. I am so beautiful! Who will come and dance with me while I am so beautiful? Oh, come and be happy with me! I shall be beautiful while the earth lasts. Somebody will always admire me; and who will come and be happy with me in the Spirit-land? I shall be beautiful forever there. Yes, I shall be more beautiful than my shell-flower, my Thocmetony! Then, come, oh come, and dance and be happy with me!” (Life Among the Piutes, pg. 43)
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She recalls the time when her grandfather, Chief Truckee, first saw white people entering their land. His excitement can be seen in his recorded words, “My white brothers, — my long-looked for white brothers have come at last!” Chief Truckee’s gestures of peace were ignored and despite trying many times to extend friendship to the white people, he finally gave up, hoping the next party to come through would be friendlier. His hope came true in following years when Captain Fremont and his troops accepted his friendship. Chief Truckee and his men helped fight in the Bear War to defeat the Mexican army and win California for the United States of America.

When Sarah first accompanied her grandfather to California at age six, she was frightened of the new things she encountered: beds, chairs, unusual food, bright-colored dishes. Her grandfather insisted that Sarah and her sister become members of Major Ormsby’s household when Sarah turned thirteen. By fourteen, Sarah had acquired five languages. At sixteen, Sarah and her sister, Elma, attended a convent school in San Jose, CA—a request her grandfather made on his deathbed. The sisters weren’t allowed into the school officially, but Sarah continued to learn. 

Lewis Hopkins, Sarah's Husband

In 1872, Sarah went to Washington D.C. to speak out on behalf of her people, who were suffering injustices at the hand of Indian Agents on the reservation. In 1880, she again pleaded their cause before the Secretary of the Interior and President Rutherford B. Hayes. She gave more than 400 speeches on behalf of her people. 

In her book, Sarah says the following of her grandfather, “I can imagine his feelings, for I have drank deeply from the same cup. When I think of my past life, and the bitter trials I have endured, I can scarcely believe I live, and yet I do ; and, with the help of Him who notes the sparrow's fall, I mean to fight for my down-trodden race while life lasts.” She lived out this desire to the best of her ability.

I am amazed that such a young girl learned languages so quickly and had such determination. How about you? Do you speak more than one language? Have you ever given a speech or spoken for a cause you felt strongly about?

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, New York Times best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

The Olive Oatman Story by Nancy J. Farrier

In August, 1850, the Oatman family joined a group traveling from Independence, Missouri to the juncture of the Colorado and Gila Rivers near Fort Yuma, where they wanted to start a new town. (At this time, Fort Yuma was called Camp Yuma, located in what would be Arizona today.)Following months of difficulties and disagreements, in 1851 the nine members of the Oatman family found themselves on their own in Southern Arizona Territory, which at that time still belonged to Mexico. After much debate, on the advice of a solitary traveler, they set out for Fort Yuma, almost 200 miles west across an unforgiving desert.

Over the next ninety miles, they struggled with exhausted animals, roads washed out making it necessary to carry goods by hand when the oxen and mules were exhausted, and discouragement. The Oatman parents were at a low point, their only choice to carry on. At the half way point, they spent the night on a sand island in the middle of the Gila River where the wagons mired.

The next morning, they hitched the oxen to the wagon again to finish crossing the river. The road led up a steep hill with the team so weakened they had difficulty pulling the empty wagon up the grade. 

The family members had to carry their goods up by hand. At this point, Mr. Oatman, who had always been very hopeful and positive became downcast and feared something bad would happen. 

Once they all made the crest of the hill, they discovered more hills to come and stopped to rest. They were approached by nineteen Indians, who expressed friendship. Mr. Oatman shared a pipe with the men, who then asked for food. Although their stores were dangerously depleted, Mr. Oatman gave them some bread. The Indians wanted more, but were turned down. After consulting among themselves, the Indians, with fierce cries, attacked the family. 

Olive Oatman, a young teen at the time of the attack, watched with horror and confusion as her family members were beaten with clubs and struck down. Olive fainted and when she came to only her seven-year-old sister, Mary Ann, was alive and unharmed. Their captors ransacked the wagon, left the dead and dying family members, and rode away with Olive and Mary Ann. 

Unknown to Olive, Lorenzo, her fifteen-year-old brother, survived the attack, but didn’t regain consciousness until the next day. After a harrowing trek, which included an attack by wolves, he made it to safety. Lorenzo vowed to never give up searching for his sisters.

One year later, Olive and Mary Ann were sold to the Mojave Indians as slaves. During their first year of captivity with the Mojaves, Mary Ann contracted an illness and died. Olive spent four years with the Mojaves. During that time, she received a tattoo on her chin, one that all captives were required to have, but some reports say the Mojave women all received a similar tattoo.She made friends and adapted well to their lifestyle.

Five years after the deaths of her family, Olive’s release was negotiated. The Chieftan’s daughter, Olive’s good friend, accompanied her to Fort Yuma. Olive’s brother, Lorenzo, heard of her release, but said he wouldn’t believe it to be true until he saw her for himself. Imagine the excitement of both Lorenzo and Olive, since Olive thought her brother died in the attack.

Olive Oatman after captivity

 

Olive proved to be an incredible person. After watching her family die, she adapted to life with the Yavapai Indians and then to the Mojave Indians. After her rescue, she once again had to adapt to life with a brother she thought dead and a culture far removed from Indian life. Many times Olive would weep as she longed for her friends in the Mojave camp. Olive later married a cattleman. They adopted a young girl and lived on their ranch in Texas. Olive died in 1903.

There are many interesting books and accounts of Olive’s capture. The first written account is the Captivity of the Oatman Girls by R.B. Stratton. Another book that might be of interest is The Blue Tattoo by Margot Mifflin.

Have you heard of Olive Oatman? I love how adaptive she was to whatever life gave her. I was happy to learn of her marriage and that she adopted a daughter. An amazing story.

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, New York Times best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

Knitting and Spying by Nancy J. Farrier

 Do you like to knit? Do you have the nerve to knit in the middle of an enemy stronghold and work messages into your knitting to pass on to your country’s armed forces? That is what the women featured in today’s blog did during war time. I salute them for their bravery and determination. Let’s take a look at what they accomplished and how they alerted their forces using their needlework.

Knit/Purl Stitches by WillowW
Wikimedia Commons

First, keep in mind how knitting is done. There are two basic stitches. The knit stitch looks like a “v” and the purl stitch makes a small bump. Also, dropped stitches were used to make a hole. That means these patterns could have been read by feel in low light if needed. Plus, women were encouraged to knit and make items to help soldiers, so nothing was thought about a woman sitting in her window or in public with her knitting needles clicking away. Little did the opposition realize that she didn’t have to focus on her work, but could be watching and listening to later report conversations and movements. A perfect spy!

Phyllis Latour Doyle

Phyllis joined the RAF in 1941 after a friend was killed by Nazi soldiers. She planned to train to be an airplane mechanic but others noted her potential. Because her father was French, Phyllis grew up speaking fluent French and would be valuable as a spy behind lines. She agreed to become a spy and was trained by a cat burglar to do things like cross a roof top undetected.

1904 Picture of
Woman Knitting

At the end of her training, Phyllis parachuted into Normandy. She pretended to be a teenager to throw off suspicion. She traveled by bicycle and chatted with German soldiers. She would then go someplace secret, bring out her knitting and use one of her 2,000 codes to send a message. She would hide the knitted message by winding the strip around a knitting needle and inserting it in a hair tie. Each time she used one of the codes she’d been given she would mark the code, so she wouldn’t use it again.

Phyllis had to keep on the move. She would send her message and then go quickly before the Germans could trace the source of the message. They did not catch her. She often had to sleep on the forest floor unless she found some Allied sympathizers. She ate what food she could find and was often hungry, but she always had her knitting and her silk thread she used for her patterns.

In 2014, Phyllis was awarded the Legion of Honour, France’s highest decoration. She did not want to get this award but did it for her family. She was 93 at the time. Her family found out about her spy work in the late 1900’s when one of her sons read about her on the internet. She did not want to brag about the service she’d done for her country.

Madame Lavengle

WWI Ad for Knitting
By Marguerite Martyn
Wikimedia Commons

During WWI the Germans occupied her home putting her and her children at risk. Madame Lavengle did not quake in fear. Instead, she joined the resistance and used her knitting and her children to send coded messages right under the noses of the Germans in her home.

In an upper room, Lavengle sat at a window knitting. Every day she would sit there and knit. Such an innocent pastime, right? Meanwhile, she would tap her foot on the floor and her children below her would copy down the code she signaled with the tapping. The German Marshall in her home never suspected she was gathering and passing on information. Amazing.

Molly “Mom” Rinker

Molly Rinker owned a tavern during the Revolutionary War. She often had British soldiers in her town and in her tavern. She wanted to do something to help the Revolution, so she would go to the park and sit on a high hill or rock and knit. As she watched and listened, she would tie knots in her ball of yarn as a code. Then she would drop the yarn at a certain place for the Revolutionary soldiers to find. In this way, a woman in a lowly occupation, helped out her fledgling country. Thank you, Molly.

Binary Pattern by Kurt Pippen Fowler

Many people enjoy the art of knitting. With the onset of computer coding and languages, knitters learned to do patterns in binary language. When Morse code was invented, they used a variation of stitches to make the dot and dash for Morse code and sent messages that way. Knitting is so much more than making a pretty garment.

Do you knit? Do you do another type of needlework? Would you have been brave enough to be a spy? To be dropped behind enemy lines and send coded messages? Or to gather information right under the enemy’s noses? What a challenge and what amazing women.

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

Wellington Train Disaster - 1910 by Nancy J. Farrier

As winter weather envelops much of the United States, I am reminded of the Wellington Train disaster, one of the worst train disasters in U.S. history. This natural disaster remains the worst in Washington history.

Wellington before the Avalanche
Technical World Magazine, 1910
Wikimedia Commons

 

In late February 1910, snowfall in the Cascade Mountains delayed two trains traveling from Spokane to Seattle. The Great Northern trains were the Spokane Local, a passenger train, and the Fast Mail train. Between the two they had five or six steam and electrical engines, 15 boxcars, passenger cars, and sleepers. 

 

They were finally cleared to pass through the Cascade tunnel to the west side of the mountains, but were delayed once again when they reached Wellington, Washington. Heavy snowfall and a few smaller avalanches blocked the tracks. The trains stopped under Windy Mountain above Tye Creek. 

 

For six days, the trains waited in whiteout conditions. The weather made it impossible for the crews to clear the tracks. The telegraph lines went down on February 26^th, cutting off communications with the outside world. Then, on February 28^th, an electrical storm moved in, the heavy rain, thunder and lightning shaking the snow-laden mountains.

 

It was after midnight on March 1^st, when the snow on the slope above the trains became an avalanche. The snow picked up momentum as it tumbled down toward the tracks, taking everything with it. The trains were picked up and tumbled down the slope to Tye Creek. 

 

Train wreckage from avalanche, By B.E. Frazier
Library of Congress, Wikemedia Commons

Charles Andrews, a Great Northern employee happened to be on his way to the bunkhouse in Wellington when he heard the rumble of the avalanche. He later described what he saw as, “White Death moving down the mountainside above the trains.” He went on to say, “[The avalanche] descended to the ledge where the side tracks lay, picked up cars and equipment as though they were so many snow-draped toys, and swallowing them up, disappeared like a white, broad monster into the ravine below.”

 

With no way to contact anyone for help, the few Great Northern employees began the laborious task of digging down to the wreckage, which was buried under forty to seventy feet of snow. During the first few hours they were able to rescue 23 survivors.

 

Debris from avalanche, By John Juleen
Technical World Magazine, 1910
Wikimedia Commons

In all, there were 96 deaths from the avalanche, 35 passengers and 58 railroad employees. Recovery took time and the bodies were taken by toboggan to trains that carried them to Everett and Seattle. 

Names of those who died in the avalanche.

 

The town of Wellington was partially destroyed by the avalanche and was renamed, Tye, to distance it from the disaster. Within three weeks, Great Northern had the tracks repaired and trains resumed their travels. In 1913, Great Northern constructed snow-sheds to protect trains from more avalanches. 

Snow sheds in 1911-1913

Snow shed today on hiking trail.

 

What caused this disaster? It was proven in court that the fault was not the railway’s but a natural disaster. However, many believed clear cutting the slopes was a contributing factor, as was the sparks from the trains and the fires they caused. 

 

You can still see wood from one of the Wellington 
buildings destroyed in the avalanche.

A new tunnel was built in 1929, making the old railroad obsolete. Today, the old grade is a hiking trail, the Iron Goat Trail. It was so named after the Great Northern Railway’s symbol of a mountain goat standing on a rock.

Beautiful forest along the trail.

 

Last fall, I visited my daughter in Washington and she took me hiking on one of the Iron Goat trails. It was a beautiful area and there were markers talking about the tragedy of 1910. It’s hard to imagine the people stuck on those trains for days, only to be killed by an avalanche. 

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

Charles Marion Russell by Nancy J. Farrier

 

Charles Marion Russell

Charles Marion Russell, probably best known as an artist who depicted life in the Old West, also wore many other hats. He was a well-known story teller, a writer, historian, and an advocate for the Western Plains Indians. He loved the outdoors and he loved his adopted State of Montana so much that he didn’t want to leave.

Camp Cook's Troubles
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

Born in 1864, in St. Louis, Missouri, Charles wanted to grow up to be a cowboy. His father partnered in a brick manufacturing business, but Charles, who struggled with book learning, wanted to go west. Just shy of his sixteenth birthday, he arrived in Montana ready to fulfill that dream. He started out learning the wilderness from a hunter and trader, Jake Hoover, spending two years with him.

The Tenderfoot
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

In 1882, he began to live his dream as a night herder for some cattle outfits. What he didn’t realize at the time, was that he would gain more than learning to wrangle cattle. He would learn firsthand how the men and animals of the west interacted. Later, he would turn those memories into paintings and sculptures so realistic they would seem to take on a life of their own.

Waiting for Chinook
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

In a depiction of a particularly brutal winter, Russell painted a watercolor of a starving cow surrounded by wolves. This picture brought him widespread recognition in 1887. By this time, he was already known locally for his story telling. He had a quiet way of speaking that kept his audience enthralled.

The Cryer
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

By 1893, Russell turned to art full time. In 1896, he married Nancy Cooper. She had a head for business and in time became his business manager. Russell painted more than 2,000 pictures, plus the many bronze sculptures he made. His artwork appeared on postcards, color reproductions and in calendars. He was considered the first “Western” artist to live most of his life in the West. 

Buccaroos
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

Stories abound on the life of Charles Russell. He was known as a constant smoker. It’s said that as soon as one cigarette finished, he would stop and roll another one. This often happened when he would be telling stories to an audience. Even if he had come to a critical place in the story, he would stop talking until he’d finished rolling and lighting his next cigarette. He expected his listeners to wait and they were so caught up in the tale he’d been unravelling that they did wait for him.

To the Victor Belongs the Spoils
Courtesy Wikipedia Commons

Russell was also noted for not laughing as he told stories. He spoke in a slow, drawling narrative, is expression deadpan. Even if he had his listeners laughing aloud, he didn't smile, or change from his serious demeanor. 

I love Russell's vivid portrayal of the West. Have you ever seen any of Charles Russell's paintings or sculpture? I appreciate that he lived the life before putting it on canvas, in bronzes or in words. What other artist do you know that did this?

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.

Scott Joplin by Nancy J. Farrier

Maple Leaf Rag by Scott Joplin

Who doesn’t find their toe tapping to the lively rhythm of ragtime music? The beat inspires joy and lifts the spirits. This month, I want to take a look at Scott Joplin, the leading composer of ragtime music.

Scott Joplin, born in Texarkana, Texas in 1868, grew up in a family of music lovers. His father, a farm laborer, played the violin. His mother, a house cleaner and laundress, played the banjo and sang. Joplin learned to play piano on the instrument owned by his parent’s employer. He also took music lessons.

Scott began performing as a teenager. Besides playing piano, he played the violin and cornet. He also had a nice singing voice and often sang as part of his performance. In the 1880’s he began to travel, spending time in several places, one of them being Sedalia, Missouri, which would become his home later in his life. Joplin played with different forms of music such as marches and waltz’s, adding in some African American rhythms and melodies to change them. In 1893, he traveled Chicago and played outside the World’s Fair. There, he met musician, Otis Saunders, who encouraged him to write down the music he wrote.

After moving to Sedalia, MO, Joplin enrolled in the George R. Smith College to study music. He wanted to learn how to transfer the songs in his head to musical notation on paper so other musicians would be able to play his works. He caught on to the concept very quickly and published several original compositions, in addition to some co-written with fellow musicians. 

His popularity grew and in 1899, a local music store owner and publisher, printed Joplin’s, “Maple Leaf Rag.” The catchy song earned him the title of “King of Ragtime Writers.” Encouraged by the success, Joplin moved to St. Louis with his new bride, Belle, and friends who wrote music with him. His ragtime gained recognition. The conductor of the St. Louis Choral Symphony Society referred to Joplin as “an extraordinary genius.” Because of his music, Joplin was allowed access to places others of his race could not go, but only because he performed in those places.

Joplin’s private life was fraught with troubles. He and his first wife lost their infant child, and then the marriage ended. His second wife died shortly after they married in 1904. Joplin moved to New York, hoping for a fresh start and new opportunities. He struggled finanacially, not finding the backing he needed for his music. He married a third time, and his new wife, Lottie, supported his work and encouraged him.

Throughout his life, Scott Joplin wrote 44 songs—ragtime pieces—two operas, and one ragtime ballet. He also composed seven ragtime piano compositions with other composers. In 1916, he experienced debilitating physical and mental effects from an ongoing disease. In 1917, he required hospitalization and then was put in a mental institution. He died April 1, 1917.

After Joplin’s death, ragtime music fell from popularity with listeners. In the 1940’s jazz music caused a small revival of ragtime, but the real boost came in the 1970’s. Joplin’s, “The Entertainer,” received notoriety in the movie, The Sting. This brought about an increased interest in Joplin’s music. In 1976, the Pulitzer Committee issued a posthumous award to Scott Joplin for his contribution to American music.  He was truly the “King of Ragtime Music.”

Have you ever played Scott Joplin's ragtime music? Have you heard Maple Leaf Rag or The Entertainer? (You can click on the song titles to listen to them being played.) If you are familiar with his ragtime music, what song is your favorite? I would love to hear from you.

Nancy J Farrier is an award-winning, best-selling author who lives in Southern Arizona in the Sonoran Desert. She loves the Southwest with its interesting historical past. When Nancy isn’t writing, she loves to read, do needlecraft, play with her cats and dog, and spend time with her family. You can read more about Nancy and her books on her website: nancyjfarrier.com.