Birds in Ancient Israel

Dana McNeely

In the hot days of an Arizona summer, my husband and I enjoy hanging from the edge of the pool watching finches visit our bird feeder. They seem to have less fear of us, below them in the water, and we are close enough to see the details of their bright yellow or red plumage and dark brown or black caps. They chitter happily when there are empty perches, but when all eight are occupied, aerial arguments ensue which are equally fun to watch.

Finches aren’t the only birds that capture our interest. Because my husband, The Constant Gardener, has planted so many trees, shrubs, and flowering plants on our property, we enjoy many varieties of birds singing to us in the mornings and swooping from tree to tree. For a little over a month, we were visited daily by a pair of Cooper's Hawks, which sadly, at least for us, moved on when daytime temperatures topped 110. I don’t blame them.

Cooper's Hawk with catch
Image courtesy Tony Alter via WikiMedia

You might guess that birds take a prominent place in my writing, and thus, my research. My first biblical novel, RAIN, tells the story of a mysterious prophet, a desperate youth, and a relentless queen during the time of Israel’s great drought. Did you guess that the prophet in RAIN is Elijah? If so, you won’t be surprised I researched birds in ancient Israel to inform what I would write about Elijah’s ravens.

Clean or Unclean

The first thing I learned about ravens in ancient Israel, is they were considered ceremonially unclean. While a devout Hebrew could eat any bird designated ceremonially clean, those listed as unclean were dietary taboo. The list in Deuteronomy 14 names ravens among the unclean, along with vultures, kites, falcons, buzzards, owls, seagulls, hawks, cormorants, storks, herons, hoopoes, and bats. Interesting that bats are listed among unclean birds! Are you curious about what hoopoes look like? Here you go:

Hoopoes probe the ground for large insects, larvae, and pupae
Image courtesy Zemplin Templar via WikiCommons

What I found intriguing was that God used unclean birds, the ravens, to deliver Elijah’s bread and meat, especially since ravens are a scavenger species and would be tempted to eat the food themselves.

As I envisioned Elijah sitting beside the brook, waiting for his daily breakfast and supper deliveries, I imagined him growing fond of his messengers, the ravens.  An excerpt from RAIN follows below, where a raven first meets Elijah.

Elijah Fed By Ravens courtesy gospelimages.com

"IN A NARROW GORGE EAST OF the Jordan, a brook threaded its way past a small cave. On the cliff walls above, sure-footed nubiani leapt from stone to stone, their curved horns outlined against the sky. Eagles nested in feathered outcroppings. Along the creek banks, reeds swayed in the breeze. Vines trailed into the stream like graceful arms washing linen. Reflections of pistachio trees waded in the shallows, and moss carpeted the slope to the brook, patterned by dappled shade.

Year after year, the days of the dry season followed a pattern. On a midsummer day, with the sun baking the valley below, the brook normally grew quiet, fell deep into slumber, and sank into the earth until wakened by the early rains. But today, despite the blazing sky, the brook flowed from the mountain’s heart as if from a bottomless spring. 

Far above the sharp cliffs, a raven circled, tilting her head to peer down. The man beside the stream wore a ragged sheepskin, and though she tasted its stench in the air, the raven knew the man himself was not carrion. She had flown a long and weary time, but this was the place, this was the man. As she spiraled down, she heard him speak, though not to her. Man’s words are not for beasts or fowl to understand, but there was something like the brook’s song in his voice. Perhaps, like the brook and the raven, the man also heard the Call.

Though hungry herself, the raven swooped low and dropped bread into the man’s outstretched hands.

Elijah laughed when he caught the falling loaf. Over the many months, he’d been pummeled by falling loaves and raw meat, but this young raven, a newcomer, was the first to drop his meal into his hands. 

'Well done!' Swiftly he broke off a third of the loaf and tossed it into the air. 

The bird hovered above him, tail fanned and curved like a sliver of moon, blue-black wings beating the sky. She caught the bread right as it began its downward descent, soared up and out of the ravine, and headed north."

I enjoyed writing about the ravens so much that they appeared in several scenes, including three with Jezebel.  I began to think about birds other than ravens and how they were used. It made sense that since UNCLEAN birds could not be used for food, CLEAN birds could be eaten - and someone must catch or hunt them. 

Antique Woodcut, Bird Snare | Bird Trained for Falconry
Images courtesy WikiMedia

Are Fowlers Foul?

In researching occupations in ancient Israel, I learned that fowlers, those who snared, trapped, or hunted birds did a brisk trade selling birds for food, sacrifice, or pets. Some wealthy individuals purchased caged songbirds for their music.

So while our modern-day sensibilities might cringe at the thought of capturing birds, in Israel's agrarian culture, fowlers provided birds for meat and sacrifice at prices accessible to the poor.

Bas-reliefs on Egyptian monuments show traps, nets, and snares of various kinds being used to capture unsuspecting fowl. Decoys or bait lured a bird into the trap, at which time a net or door might drop, blocking the exit. The 'gin' was a trap consisting of a net and a stick acting as a spring.

Egyptian bas-relief showing captured cranes
Image courtesy WikiCommonsMedia

Ancient bird trap with drop-down gate. It would be propped with a stick until the bird entered.
Image courtesy WikiCommonsMedia

In RAIN, a young Israelite girl is skilled at weaving snares and building crates for the birds she captures, and Miriam's hobby grows into a second source of income for her family. In the following scene, Aban, an acolyte of Ba'al is invited to the home of an Israelite he meets after concealing Elijah's flight route from pursuing soldiers.

"Finally, they neared a small, one-story home. The murmur of sleepy birds identified the dark shapes stacked near the open door as rug-covered crates. Inside, firelight flickered from a stone hearth. Caleb pulled him across the threshold. A young girl rushed into the room and clasped the Israelite around the middle.

'Brother, how many did you sell today?' Miriam backed away, hands on hips, head tilted. Her form was slight but strong, though she couldn’t have seen more than nine years. When her eyes shifted to Aban, a dimple appeared in one cheek.

'For shame, Miriam, seeking your share of profits before I walk through the door. Where is our grandmother? Savta! I’ve brought a guest.' Leaving them, he hurried into the next room and spoke in quiet tones to someone. Miriam and Aban studied each other. He saw the moment she recognized his clothing from the sudden disapproval in her young eyes. 

For his part, he couldn’t stop looking at her face. She wasn’t beautiful, but her face was like new parchment, waiting for the quill. Her eyes softened at the corners as she made the decision to be kind. 'Did my brother tell you I weave his bird snares? All the finest catches are mine.'

'She does have a knack.' Caleb returned, leading an old woman dressed in black from head to toe. A strand of silvery hair escaped from under her head covering, which was slightly crooked, as if hastily donned. 'Now take some locusts to the houbara, sister. Your finest catch didn’t sell today.' He reached forward and gave a tug to the thick braid hanging down her back. Miriam squeaked, but rushed off."

 

Baited Trap
Image courtesy Olina via WikiMedia

 

What the Bible says about fowlers.

Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. ~ Psalm 91:3

We have escaped like a bird from the fowler’s snare; the snare has been broken, and we have escaped. ~ Psalm 124:7

Free yourself, like a gazelle from the hand of the hunter, like a bird from the snare of the fowler. ~ Proverbs 6:5

Moreover, no one knows when their hour will come: as fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds taken in a snare, so people are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them. ~ Ecclesiastes 9:12

Many of the Bible's references to fowlers and their various methods for capturing birds, are used as effective cautionary tales. 

For myself, I'm happy to allow the birds to remain free to sing from the trees. However, I do hope the Cooper's Hawks return when the weather cools.

Further Resources:

Birds of Lebanon and the Jordan Area by S. Vere Benson

Every Living Thing: Daily Use of Animals in Ancient Israel by Oded Borowski

All the Trades and Occupations of the Bible by Herbert Lockyer

RAIN ~ Whispers in the Wind Book 1

Aban yearns to join the priesthood of Ba'al, unlock the power of the rain god, and hear the deity's voice. But first, he must survive a perilous initiation ceremony.

When the mysterious prophet Elijah interrupts the rites, overturns the idol, and curses the land with drought, Aban must choose a side in Yahweh's war against the Ba'als - and it may cost him his life.

WHIRLWIND ~ Whispers in the Wind Book 2 

A king's downfall and a love that transcends war. December 5th, 2022.

Dana McNeely dreamed of living in a world teeming with adventure, danger and romance, but she had a problem - she also needed a lot of peace and quiet. She learned to visit that dream world by stepping into a book.

Inspired by the Bible stories of Elijah, Dana wondered about the widow of Zarephath and her son. Who were they? What was their life, before? How did the boy change after he died, saw the other world—and came back?

Those questions led to Dana writing RAIN, in which she built her dream world of adventure, danger, and romance. Peace and quiet, however, have remained elusive.

No stranger to drought, Dana lives in an Arizona oasis with her hubby the constant gardener, two good dogs, an antisocial cat, and migrating butterflies.

Learn more about Dana and her books at her website: DanaMcNeely.com
Newsletter subscribers receive a free book: https://bit.ly/danasnews

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The Real McCoy

Today we have a guest blogger, Lyn Cote shares with us about "The Real McCoy." Thanks Lyn, for stepping in.

Historical Research is My Kind of Fun!

I have a Masters in American History and my idea of fun is to spend hours deep in the back of a library or in the heart of a local museum. On a trip to Florida, my husband and I managed to stop at the Lincoln Library in Springfield, Illinois, the Chickamauga Battlefield in Georgia and finally Andrew Jackson’s estate, The Hermitage, near Nashville. (Can you believe that the wallpaper hung in that antebellum house is still on the walls? No peeling and still looks good--AMAZING!)

Using Authentic Language

It is always so interesting to research the language of a time period. For example, I had wanted to use the phrase “the real thing,” in my latest book, The Baby Bequest, but after some research, I discovered that phrase came into use much later than when this story takes place. I don’t like to use phrases that aren’t historically grounded.

The Real McCoy

So I substituted “the real McCoy,” and discovered that this phrase came into use because of Elijah McCoy, an African-American born in Ontario, Canada, in 1844, the son of runaway slaves. Educated in Scotland as a mechanical engineer, Elijah McCoy settled in Detroit. Unable to get a job as a mechanical engineer because of racial prejudice, he worked for the railroad as an “oiler.”

You Can’t Keep a Good Man Down

While working there, he invented a cup that would regulate the flow of oil onto moving parts of industrial machines, first the train engine. This invention distributed oil evenly over the engine's moving parts. He obtained a patent for this invention, which allowed trains to run continuously for long periods of time without pausing for maintenance.
The term “real McCoy” refers to Elijah’s oiling device. It became so popular that people inspecting new equipment would ask if the device contained “the real McCoy.”
How about that?

For more information, go to http://www.biography.com/people/elijah-mccoy-9391300

So that’s what makes me smile.

Finding out something I never knew before and usually it’s so much more than I expected!

Have you ever visited a national historic site or a particularly interesting small museum or local historical site? Please share what you learned or what surprised you.--Lyn

PS: My upcoming historical is BLESSING, the second in my “Quaker Brides” series about a family who works for abolition and equal rights for all in mid-19th century America. Also if you drop by my website and subscribe to my enewsletter, I’ll send you a PDF copy of “Old Family Recipes.” 15 Love Inspired Historical authors (including me) put together our old favorite family recipes and the stories behind them. LynCote.com

Inquisitive Research

Welcome to guest blogger and historical fiction writer, Connie Stevens, who shares how she conducts research when writing a book. Leave a comment for a chance to win your choice of either Threads of Time or Sundays in Fredericksburg.

I read a Facebook post recently from an author who writes thriller/suspense stories. She had attended a class for writers taught by police officers. She stated she’d gained a great deal of valuable insight from the officers, that is until they asked if anyone in the class had ever written a scene where a character got tazed. Several raised their hands. The officers then asked if any of the writers would like to get tazed themselves so they would know what it felt like and therefore could write the experience more accurately.

She declined. [Wise decision!]

Most writers have an opinion about research—they either love it or hate it. I fall into the former category. I can get lost in research. I forget what time it is—and in some cases, what century it is, since I write historical fiction—when I’m researching for a story. It stems from first growing a relationship with my characters. I want to know them, live with them, have my finger on their pulse. In order to do that, I have to see and touch those things that surround them. I must experience--as much as possible--those circumstances that have shaped them into who they are. An author must become inquisitive—like a four-year-old asking, “Why?”  

Once I needed to know what an 1838 sawmill sounded like, and discovered the most common blade was a long, vertical blade that was propelled up and down rather than a large, spinning circular blade. After a few hours of Internet searching, I found a video of a restored 1836 sawmill. I replayed the video more than a dozen times, memorizing the sound.

But that wasn’t enough.

The restored sawmill was located in West Virginia, so on my next trip north to visit kinfolk, I detoured to West Virginia so I could listen to the sawmill in person. Not only did the sound resonate through me, I also watched the men wrestle the log into place with big, claw-like hooks. I watched the sweat glisten on their faces and darken their shirts, and got a better perspective of the intense labor required for such a job, and the danger involved as well. The pungent aroma of freshly sawn wood perfumed the air, and bone-jarring vibrations shook the ground. For the record, the sound it makes is a whumpety whumpety thwack. (Guess you had to be there.) Could I have written those scenes and simply said the sawmill made a loud racket? Of course, but I couldn’t have immersed myself into the scene, and therefore neither could the reader.

When researching for another story, my character was the developer of a hot springs resort where people came from all over to soak in the healing waters. So, I had to drive a couple of hundred miles to a hot springs and soak a while. Had to get that ahhhh factor down--all in the name of research, of course.

I’m currently working on a story set at the end of World War 1. My character was an army chaplain and suffers flashbacks from the battlefield.

 I found a wonderful resource at Fort Jackson in South Carolina where there is not only a chaplaincy school, but also a chaplaincy museum. The director allowed me to pick his brain, and didn’t even blink when I asked questions like: What would my character smell on the battlefield? (Did you know the odor of blood seeps into the senses and the smell can be remembered for a lifetime? Or, did you know one of most prevalent odors on the battlefield is charred dirt?) How did the soldiers tell the difference in gunfire and artillery to know if it was enemy or allied?

Some of these details may seem insignificant, but educating myself helps me climb into my characters’ skin and know who they are. It’s the only way I can make them come alive on the page.

If you are a writer, to what lengths have you gone to conduct inquisitive research?

BIO:

Connie Stevens lives with her husband of forty-one years in north Georgia, within sight of her beloved mountains. She and her husband are both active in a variety of ministries at their church. A lifelong reader, Connie began creating stories by the time she was ten. Her office manager and writing muse is a cat, but she’s never more than a phone call or email away from her critique partners. She enjoys gardening and quilting, but one of her favorite pastimes is browsing antique shops where story ideas often take root in her imagination. Connie has been a member of American Christian Fiction Writers since 2000.

Drop by her website at www.conniestevenswrites.com and sign up to receive her quarterly newsletter.

Connie’s Facebook author page: www.facebook.com/ConnieStevensAuthor

Follow Connie on Twitter: @AuthorConnie

NEWS FLASH: The print edition of THREADS OF TIME is finally available. Order yours today from:https://www.createspace.com/4828468

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A Virtual Paradise

CFHS blog's new name...September 8th

 "As soon as a peep of light shined, I climbed on my horse and led the burros to the trail that veered up the mountain past some old buildings and a stone oven and prospectors who weren't the friendly sort. All day I watched for signs. A shaggy head shaped boulder. Stubby pines like a miniature forest. The ground turning red. A triple crown from the Silver Peak mountain range. I knew I was close.”

(quote by Seth Stroud, an excerpt from Wind in the Wires, Book 1, A Trails of Reba Cahill Novel, by Janet Chester Bly)

The very first novel research trip I took alone was to the remote, high desert location of Silver Peak, one of the oldest mining communities in Nevada. Several of the characters in the novel I'm working on, Wind in the Wires, take a fateful journey there. A climax of discovery in the story happens in that area.

Cinder Cone

From Tonopah, I saw a panorama of multiple layered mountain ranges like washboard. Clouds of dust could be seen thirty miles away. Black cows roamed around small, scruffy sage.

Out of Goldfield off Highway 95 on Road 265, I traveled on a road across marsh flats. The route littered with miles of bottles, whole and broken, and beer cans. And water mirages. And open range cattle. I spotted a small herd of camels next to burros. Tiny sage grew barely high enough for a desert rat.

Just outside of town, Alcatraz Island, a marshy area with huge tailings mounded against the base of the mountains. A city sign announced, "Welcome to Silver Peak...A Virtual Paradise.” At least one resident had a sense of humor in the population of 107.

Another on the road warned, “Caution: Minimum Maintenance Only.” Very few side roads exist because a) terrain too rough, and b) no place to go.

A man on a horse with bedroll in back, tarp in front, entered the village ahead of me. Out in the dirt, young men raced pickups like hot rods. Wild horses roam all over. Hearing tales of a "Wild Horse Johnson” in the 1940s and 50s gave me an idea for a character.

From a hill north of town I could see all of the town and the marshy surroundings.

Silver Peak, Nevada

Like most modern mining camps, trailers and single-wide mobile homes in varying degrees of quality and repair replace tents. Residents can still pick up and leave in a hurry. Also, small adobe shacks with sheet metal patched roofs. The desert harshness draws them, them repels them, and sometimes destroys them.

A local told me, “When this place was humming the whole mountain range vibrated.”

Silver Peak has been a mining town off and on since 1863. Remains of at least five mills still are visible among the more recent structures. Olympic Games organizer Avery Brundage once operated one of the mills.

The town boasts an elementary school - Grades K-8 - and several children's parks and play areas. There’s an Esmeralda County school bus. A power company substation. A fire department and phone booths. A saloon is a former schoolhouse. There’s also a church.

Silver Peak has a resident deputy and volunteer EMTs. The nearest hospital is in Bishop, California, more than a hundred miles away.

The oldest structure was a store and stage stop in 1864. The original one-room post office still stands next to a modern replacement, a single-wide mobile home. When I was there, I saw four mules lounged in front, tied, tethered, and loaded with bundles. When I first visited in 1991, the postmaster had served since 1939. A wealth of local history.

Out on the marsh they mine for lithium, a soft silver white metal, by extracting it from the brine evaporating in

Lithium operation

the pond system. This is the only lithium recovery process of this type in the U.S. Lime deposits nearby found in 1868. At first, processing difficulties discouraged major silver mining, but high grade horn silver was discovered in 1908. The last silver mine closed down about 1992.
There used to be mineral hot springs and bathtub sized ponds. Springs even ran into houses. But drilling dried it all up. Wood litter at old houses exposes former wooden tubs.

A dark brown-black cinder cone grows sagebrush along the sides. It looks like a huge decaying beast and

Lithium sample

could be mistaken for a gorilla's head. A memorable climb to the top with quite impressive view. I almost got stuck in the sinking cinders.

Ten miles south a large sand dune area visible. Can hike over it but driving on the soft blow sand not advised. I declined the hike after the cinder cone adventure.

Flash floods can be an extreme problem for the alkali ground. Water stands even a week after rain, leaving a sticky, slimy gumbo. So, of course, a flash flood occurs in Wind in the Wires.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Janet Chester Bly

Janet Chester Bly is the widow of award-winning western author Stephen Bly. Together they published and co-wrote over 120 fiction and nonfiction books. Wind in the Wires will be her first solo adult fiction. For news of its soon release, sign up for the Bly Books Almost Monthly Newsletter: http://www.blybooks.com/contact/stephen-bly-books-newsletter/
And ‘like’ Bly Books on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BlyBooks
For more info about the Blys, to read the blog and check out the bookstore: http://BlyBooks.com

Tidbits About Research

Back in May of 2009 I posted a short tidbit on my 19th Century Historical Tidbits Blog about the first Gold Rush.

Here is the original post:
In 1799 a 12 year old boy named Conrad Reed found a 17lb gold nugget on his family farm in North Carolina. This nugget was used as a doorstop for years. In 1802, John Reed took the nugget to a jeweler and discovered that it was gold. He wasn't paid well for this nugget but John quickly learned the true value of the gold and a lot more gold was found on the family farm.

Gold mining quickly became a major industry in North Carolina. during the first half of the 19th century gold mining became the number one occupation in North Carolina, surpassing that of farmers.

Gold mining back then was little more than picking the nuggets off the land, then by the middle of the century shafts were dug when they discovered that gold came in veins.

The Charlotte house a mint. It was the first mint to mint gold from America in the U.S. end of original post

How did I stumbled upon this tidbit? I began researching the historical events from the 19th century for a possible book proposal set in North Carolina. That is when I found out about the original gold rush in 1799 and the first mint in the U.S. to mint gold.

Finding gold was not the goal of my hero and heroine but the general background information about the mint, getting ready to mint a gold coin, what that coin looked like, how the molds were made, etc. Allowed me to take a tin smith and turn him into the hero.

Making use of online sources is one of the ways to narrow down what I need to research when I actually go and visit an area. I'll find maps with street names, at various time periods and see if they are called the same today. Again that is something I can do online. However, visiting the location, gives me a better feel of the terrain.

Another online resource I use is Google books, I'll search for the name of the town, the year and I might find some newspapers, journals, criminal or town reports, not to mention advertisers of various businesses in the area, during the time period I'm writing in. These reports give me costs of items, names of people in an area, etc. (You can also use this method in researching Genealogy, I came up with some great information for some of my ancestors this way.)

And last but not least, I also search census records. These give me names of people, how many were in the town around the year I'm working in. I also look at previous and future censuses to see what kinds of changes have happened. Sometimes a report was generated from these censuses and you can find some of these in Google books which make it a lot easier to narrow down the stats of an area.

Well that's just a little bit of what I do while researching for a historical novel. Of course my favorite part is going to a location and meeting some of the people and places in the area. Later this month I'll be traveling up to Lake Champlain, NY again, to visit with family but do some additional research for a book, I haven't yet proposed.

Thanks for taking the time to read this post.

Lynn A. Coleman is an award winning & best-selling author who makes her home in Keystone Heights, Florida, with her husband of 40 years. Check out her 19th Century Historical Tidbits Blog if you like exploring different tidbits of history. Lynn's latest novel is Courting Holly Her next novel, "Winning the Captain's Heart" is scheduled for release in July.

Panning for Gold! And a Giveaway!

By Patty Smith Hall
Last month, I wrote about the beginning of the Georgia gold rush of 1830 with the promise of teaching you how to become a prospector just like Abby, the heroine in my latest manuscript. Being a hands on researcher, I knew panning for gold was going to be a wet, dirty job but I never counted on needed a bottle of Motrin!

First, you’ll need a pan. There are specialty pans made just for gold mining that have ridges along the outer edges to collect small amounts of gold dust. But you can use an old pie pan for this experiment, like the ones at the grocery store with the graham cracker crust. Any pan with a graduated lip will do though.

The best place to pan for gold is in a stream, creek or (if you’re lucky!) a river bank, preferably in the foothills or valleys far from the mountains where a large vein of gold may be embedded. Look for a bend in the river or creek, or a place where the current is not very strong. Gold is very heavy and is not easily pushed with the current in these areas.

With a small spade, dig up gravel and dirt, and place it in your pan until it’s full. Don’t worry about rocks and sticks in your mix right now. After filling your pan, immerse it in the water, shaking it slightly from side to side to help settle the gold to the bottom of your pan. Use a

lot of water during this stage--it helps carry off the lighter dirt and sticks without carrying off the gold. And be prepared--the weight of the dirt, gravel and water is extremely heavy and puts quite a strain on your upper arms and back!

Now for the hard part!  Cup one hand around the front of your pan so that you can tip the water out without losing your gold. You’ll need to continue doing this until you have a   layer of thick muck along the bottom of your pan. This is the concentrate you’ll work until   you’ve washed all the fine sand away, leaving a dark black sand or magnetite, a heavy mineral compose of iron. The presence of this is a good sign because both this iron oxide and gold are heavy, and are generally found along side each other. As you continue, you'll start to see flakes gathered along the bottom rim of your pan. Congratulations! You've struck gold!

I haven't given a book away in a while so if you leave a comment--maybe a memory of a time you might have mined for gold/gems--you'll be entered into a drawing to win an advance copy of my November release, The Doctor's Bride. Because of the cost of international shipping, continental US only.   

Just How Much Information Do You Need About a Place to Write a Book (A Surprise Giveaway)

By Lena Nelson Dooley


I like for my historical novels to be authentic to the time period. I search for all kinds of information to fit the situation. When writing Maggie's Journey, here are some things I found out.

The decade from 1880-1890 in Seattle, Washington Territory:

Northern Pacific Railroad reaches Spokane Falls on June 25, 1881. 

Range wars between cattlemen and sheepmen in Douglas County 1881. 

Washington Territorial Legislature creates Garfield County (out of Columbia County) on November 29, 1881. 

U.S. Army establishes Fort Spokane at the junction of the Spokane and Columbia rivers in 1882. 

Great Dayton (Columbia County) Fire 1882. 

Women form first women's club on the West Coast in Olympia on March 10, 1883. 

Women win, lose, regain, and again lose right to vote in Territorial elections between 1883 and 1888. 

Northern Pacific Railroad’s mainline between Washington and Minnesota is completed at Gold Creek, Montana, on September 8, 1883. 

Washington Territorial Legislature creates Asotin County (out of Garfield) on October 27, 1883. 

Washington Territorial Legislature creates Kittitas County (out of Klickitat) and Lincoln County (out of Whitman) on November 24, 1883. 

Washington Territorial Legislature creates Skagit County (out of Whatcom), Douglas County (out of Lincoln), and Adams and Franklin counties (out of Whitman) on November 28, 1883. 

Northern Pacific constructs a railroad bridge over Snake River at Ainsworth 1884. 

Chief Joseph and many Nez Perce, who were exiled to various reservations after their exodus to Canada was blocked in 1877, are relocated to the Colville Indian Reservation in 1885. 

Whites, Indians, and others expel Chinese from Seattle, Tacoma, and elsewhere during 1885 and 1886. 

Horse rancher Frank Beezley settles on Beezley Springs (Ephrata) in 1886. 

Mother Joseph builds Sacred Heart Hospital in Spokane in 1886. 

John McMillan establishes Roche Harbor (San Juans) Limestone in 1886. 

Dawes Severalty Act 1887. 

Jesuit missionary Fr. Joseph Cataldo, SJ, opens Gonzaga College (now Gonzaga University) in Spokane on September 17, 1887. 

Stampede Pass tunnel opens on May 27, 1888. 

The Great Fire burns Seattle on June 6, 1889. 

The Great Fire burns Ellensburg on July 4, 1889. 

The Great Fire burns Spokane Falls on August 4, 1889. 

Washington becomes a state on November 11, 1889. 

Yakima becomes the site of the State Fair in 1889. 

Cheney Normal School (future Eastern Washington University) formally opens on October 13, 1890. 

Population of Washington state is 357,232 in 1890. 

I didn't necessarily use all this information, but it helped me flesh out the setting and time period.

To help me understand life on wagon trains, I used a number of books as well as web sites. Here's some of the information I gleaned:

McElroy traveled with his brother-in-law, Norton Bates, in a train of 16 wagons, all from Illinois. The first few days were cold and the trails were deep in mud. During one stretch they crossed the same river 27 times. The party soon realized that their wagons were overloaded - a common experience for the early travelers. McElroy and Bates lightened their load by selling 250 pounds of pilot bread, 200 pounds of flour and 50 pounds of "other stuff." When they approached the higher elevations of Wyoming, the load needed to be lightened again. The pair shortened their wagon by cutting off a third of its length, and they left behind another 500 pounds of flour, a barrel of sugar and several hundred pounds of bacon.

When they reached South Pass in western Wyoming, "our team failed wrote McElroy, and the group split. They had heard rumors that it was "sickly" at the gold mines and that it would be best to avoid them for awhile. McElroy and Bates took the advice, traded their stake in the outfit for horses, and turned north toward Oregon. The rest of the party went south toward California. McElroy arrived in Oregon City, capitol of the Oregon Territory, on August 20, 1849.

For a few months he worked at the local newspaper, the Oregon Spectator. In November he headed south for the goldfields, canoeing down the Columbia to Astoria and then taking passage on a sailing ship to San Francisco - a "very stormy trip."

McElroy wrote Sarah that he had reached the goldfields near Placerville, California, on December 1, 1849, and achieved "tolerable success for a green hand." He averaged one ounce ($16) per day. Once he mined two ounces, some days much less. A half-ounce a day was considered by the miners to be an average find. He was proud to report that he made between $300 and $400 during the month of December.

Unfortunately, his good luck did not continue - he fell sick in early January 1850 and was unable to work for three months. Sick care cost him $30 per week and soon took most of his earnings. By April he was well enough to work again, but high water made the streams difficult to mine. So he decided to return to Oregon. 

I came here for the purpose of helping to start a newspaper. The office belongs to Mr. Dryer (the man I have been working for in Portland), and he says he places the utmost confidence in me and insisted on me coming here to take charge of the mechanical and financial departments of the paper. I consented on condition that I stay no longer than until I get my affairs settled up, and until he finds someone to take my place.

Starting a newspaper in little town of Olympia was a challenge. Fewer than people lived in the area (in about "26 houses and shanties") and there were few businesses in town. Nonetheless, it was the chief population center of the territory. Seattle was still only a dream in the minds of the Denny party who had arrived at Alki Point just seven months earlier. Incidentally, Seattle did not have its first newspaper until 11 years later, in 1863, when the Seattle Gazette began publication.

Actually, you can lose yourself in the past by finding information such as this. Welcome to my world.

Speaking of my world, I recently created a new website. Check it out: www.lenanelsondooley.com 

Today, I'm having a surprise giveaway. A reader who leaves a comment will be chosen to receive the reader's choice of one of my books in my McKenna's Daughter's Series. 

If you're not familiar with my series, the heroines are identical triplets born on one of the last wagon trains on the Oregon Trail. Their mother died giving birth, and they are separated. The girls don't find out that they have sisters until near their 18th birthday. Each book is one of the sisters' story.

Maggie's Journey, which released in 2011, won the 2012 Selah Award for Historical Novel from the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference.

In May, Mary's Blessing was one of three finalists in the 2013 Selah Award for Romance Novel.

Catherine's Purstuit released in February 2013

Inventions and Their Patents—and a Giveaway!

By Kathleen Y’Barbo

            The nineteenth century was known for great advances in science and industry. The latter half of the century brought about the mechanization of business, an increase in higher learning, and the age of machines that ushered in the Industrial Revolution.

            I am currently writing a book series that centers on inventions and inventors. After creating a few fictional discoveries, I wondered just how my characters might go about filing for and receiving patents on these inventions. The process, as it turns out, is much simpler than I expected.

            The United States Patent and Trademark office has declared that there are three types of patents: utility, design, and plant patents. Utility patents are awarded for processes, machines, or other compositions or for improvements to these things. Design patents are just that, a patent given for creation of a design. Finally, plant patents are given to those who invent or discover new varieties of plants.

            Before making a request for a patent, a patent search must be done. This is generally where an inventor will bring in an attorney who specializes in this area. My research showed that there were only a few attorneys who specialized in working through the details of patents during the latter years of the nineteenth century. Harry A Toulmin, Sr. of the Springfield, Ohio firm of Toulmin & Toulmin, was on the leading edge of this practice of law. Among the patents he researched and brought to fruition were five different design elements of the Wright brothers’ flying machines.

            Since the inventors in my stories are applying for utility patents, I took the search further to see what would have been required during the latter half of the nineteenth century. First, an application would be filled out showing, among other things, the details of the item being patented as well as providing information on the invention and its creator or creators. 

            All inventors must be named and their citizenship data included. Drawings are included as well as background information and any claims on the scope of the patent. A fee must be paid and sworn oath must be provided that states, among other things, that the inventors believe they are the original and first inventor of the item. Patent applications are generally published 18 months after application. The time between application and the granting of the patent can vary greatly, but it is not a quick process and can take years.
            A look back at the US Patent Office reveals an interesting history. A disastrous fire struck the Patent Office, then housed in Blodget’s Hotel, on December 15, 1836. All 10,000 patents and several thousand related patent models were destroyed thanks to an old and defective fire hose that would not funnel water onto the fire. 

            Hundreds of thousands of dollars were spent over the next ten years in an attempt to restore all of the lost information. Eventually, the Patent Office declared the effort a lost cause. A fire in 1877 repeated the problems of the earlier fire. While postal workers doing a poor job of banking the fire in the basement fireplace had caused the 1836 fire, no cause was ever determined for the destruction of the building, which had been declared fireproof. Thanks to lessons learned in the first fire, however, no patents were lost the second time around due to duplicates being housed elsewhere.

            Perhaps it is the United States Patent Office that gives us an admonishment that is as valuable now as it was back in 1877: Save your work!

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As the month of May begins, I’m celebrating with a contest! FLORA’S WISH, book 1 of the Secret Lives of Will Tucker series features a Pinkerton agent whose other interest is inventing. I’m giving away a copy of FLORA’S WISH in a random drawing. Leave a comment on this post to enter. Tell me what sort of invention—real or fictional—that you would love to see me use in an upcoming book. Or just tell me that you would like to win. A winner will be chosen at random. Contest ends at noon Central time on May 2.

Bestselling author Kathleen Y’Barbo is a Carol Award and RITA nominee of forty-five novels with almost two million copies of her books in print in the US and abroad and nominations including a Career Achievement Award, Reader’s Choice Awards, and several Romantic Times Top Picks. A proud military wife and tenth-generation Texan, she now cheers on her beloved Aggies from north of the Red River. Find out more at www.kathleenybarbo.com.

HIGHLAND GAMES: FUN AND RESEARCH - Cynthia Hickey

Early Spring in Arizona brings the Highland Games. Having grown up being told by my mother that I'm Scot-Irish, and being told by my father that our family name used to be Muldoon, then changed to Melton during the 1700s. I had lots of questions. Not only did I enjoy the view of men in kilts, I was also curious as to why my family name wasn't called during the Calling of the Clans. So, I did what any historical writer does and headed to the geneaology tent. I explained the facts I knew to a lovely elderly gentlemen. He got very excited and proceeded to tell me that the reason my name wasn't called, is that we never pledged to a clan! Also, not only does my family have a plaid, they have two. One under the name Muldoon, the other under Melton. The gold plaid is Muldoon and the red is Melton. I never could find out exactly why my ancestors changed their name, only that they have been fighters from the beginning and were from the Tweedside District of Scotland. That sure explains alot about my family. Most of the men served in our country's military at one point in their life. My next search involved the Melton coat-of-arms. Here is a photo my father snapped in the Scotland airport during his Army careerThe helpful gentlemen at the booth couldn't help me much with the meaning of my coat-of-arms so I headed to the internet. I couldn't find it anywhere! I was only able to find variations. Throughly into my research now, I decided to find out what the lion and the unicorn meant. The lion (a symbol of England) is a sign of loyalty. The unicorn is a sign for diversity. Loyalty under Diversity. Makes sense since finding out my family never pledged to a clan, yet were loyal to England. My next search was to decipher what exactly was Scot-Irish. Since I married a Hickey, who's ancestors are from County Clark, I figured you had to be eigher Scottish or Irish. Well, turns out Scot-Irish are Scottish criminals sent to repopulate Ireland after the famine. So, there you have it. I come from a long line of criminals! My mother got a chuckle out of that one. I also grew up with family saying Abraham Lincoln is my fifth cousin on my mother's side, but that's research for another day. Research should, and can be fun. Happy researching!