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Entertaining Women:  Actresses, Dancers, and Singers of the Old West

Adah Menken in a scene from Mazzepa.

In 1847 the western territory of the United States was a sleepy wilderness populated mostly by Indians and Mexicans.  But when word reached the eastern states that there were rich deposits of gold in the mountains of the frontier, the region changed virtually overnight.  Two hundred thousand restless souls, mostly men, but including some women and children, traveled to the untamed western lands, primarily to California, during the first three years of the Gold Rush.  They came from all over the world, leaving homes and families for the dream of finding riches.

Soon the West was dotted with mining boomtowns and bustling new cities.  Fortunes were made and lost daily.  Lawlessness was commonplace.  At first gold seekers were content with the crude entertainment provided by ragtag bands and their own amateur fiddle-playing neighbors.  They flocked to bear-wrestling and prize fighting exhibitions.  In these impetuous atmosphere gambling dens, saloons, brothels, and dance halls thrived, but after a while the miners and merchants began to long for more polished amusements.  Theatre, backstreet halls, tents, palladiums, auditoriums, and jewel-box-sized playhouses went up quickly and stayed busy, their thin walls resounding with operas, arias, verses from Shakespeare, and minstrel tunes.

The western pioneers’ passion for diversion lured brave actors, dancers, singers, and daredevils west.  Entertainers endured the same primitive conditions as other newcomers.  They lived in tents and deserted ship and canvas houses or paid enormous rents for the few available wooden cabins.  But nineteenth-century thespians were often prepared for such a lifestyle.  Acting was largely an itinerant profession at the time, and most players earned their living barnstorming from town to town and even from country to country, performing different plays or musical numbers from a large repertoire every night of the week.  Bored miners were willing to pay high sums to these entertainers, especially to the females.

Many of the most popular women entertainers of the mid-and late-1800s performed in the boomtowns that dotted the West, drawn by the same desire for riches and bringing a variety of talents and programs.  They were mostly well received and sometimes literally showered with gold.   Adah Menken was one of those celebrated entertainers.  She was said to have had one of the most beautiful figures in the world.

On August 24, 1863, San Francisco’s elite flocked to Maguire’s Opera House.  Ladies in diamonds and furs rode up in handsome carriages; gentlemen in opera capes and silk hats strutted in stylishly.  It was an opening night such as the city had never before seen.  All one thousand seats in the theatre were filled with curious spectators anxious to see the celebrated melodramatic actress Adah Menken perform.

Adah was starring in the role that made her famous, that Prince Ivan in Mazeppa.  It was rumored that she preferred to play the part in the nude.  Newspapers in the East reported that audiences found the scantily clad thespian’s act “shocking, scandalous, horrifying and even delightful.”  The story line of the play was taken from a Byron poem in which a Tartar prince is condemned to ride forever in the desert snipped naked and lashed to a fiery, untamed steed.  Adah insisted on playing the part as true to life as possible.

The audience waited with bated breath for Adah to walk out onto the stage, and when she did, a hush fell over the crowd.  She was beautiful, possessing curly, dark hair and big, dark eyes.  Adorned in a flesh-colored body nylon and tight-fitting underwear, she left the audience speechless.  During the play’s climatic scene, supporting characters strapped the star to the back of a black stallion.  The horse raced up the narrow runway between cardboard mountain crags.  The audience responded with thunderous applause.  Adah Menken had captured the heart of another city in the West.

To learn more about Adah Menken and other thespians of the Old West read Entertaining Women:  Actresses, Dancers, and Singers of the Old West

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Principles of Posse Management: 

Lessons from the Old West for Today’s Leaders

Five riders moved swiftly across the open country through Granite Pass in southwest New Mexico.  An electrical storm lit up the sky around them, and a deluge of hail broke free from the clouds, pelting the men in their saddles and their horses.  Sounding like a troop of demons advancing, the wind howled and screamed as it pushed over the massive walls of rock the riders passed.

Former peace officer Jefferson Davis Milton rode in front of the others.  He was a tall man with sloping shoulders, his granite like visage partly hidden by a dark mustache that curled around to meet his thick sideburns.  George W. Scarborough, a blue-eyed, gruff-looking, one time law man from El Paso, Texas, took a position on Jeff’s left.  Eugene Thacker, a youthful son of a railroad detective, rode on Jeff’s right side.  Directly behind the three were Bill Martin and Thomas Bennett, Diamond A ranch cowboys turned bounty hunters.  The men pulled their slickers around their necks and urged their mounts on through the tempest.  Claps of thunder ushered in another downpour of hail.

The determined riders, members of a posse pursuing a gang of train robbing outlaws, were soaked to the bone once they reached Fort Apache, a military post near Coolidge Lake.  No one said a word as they made camp outside the garrison’s gates.  Discussing the obstacles on the way to achieving that goal wasn’t necessary.  Their focus was on capturing Bronco Bill Walters and his boys.

William E. Walters, also known as Bronco Bill Walters, was from Fort Sill, Oklahoma.  What he did before being hired at the Diamond A ranch in 1899 is anyone’s guess.  It’s what he did after getting a job as a cowhand that warranted attention.  The Diamond A was a five hundred square mile spread nestled in the boot heel of New Mexico.  The magnificent acres of grass there made it the perfect spot for raising cattle.  The ranch was always in need of workers.  Cowpunchers that dropped by looking for employment were generally hired on the spot.  It was considered a rude violation of the proprieties of a cow camp to inquire into a man’s connections or character.  Just wanting to work was enough.  Bronco Bill Walters wanted to work, and that’s all that mattered and all the foreman at the Diamond A would have cared about if Bronco Bill hadn’t have desired more than the job had to offer.

During long, dull evenings around the campfire, Bronco Bill contemplated a life that was exciting and profitable.  He thought about robbing a stage or a train.  He imagined how he would tackle such a daring feat and rehearsed a getaway.  After a while, it wasn’t enough only to imagine such actions.  Bronco Bill left the Diamond A ranch in the fall of 1890 in search of excitement and money.

To learn more about Bronco Bill and the posse after him read

Principles of Posse Management.

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Principles of Posse Management: 

Lessons from the Old West for Today’s Leaders

Dora Hand was in a deep sleep. Her bare legs were draped across the thick blankets covering her delicate form, and a mass of long, auburn hair stretched over the pillow under her head and dangled off the top of a flimsy mattress. Her breathing was slow and effortless. A framed, graphite-charcoal portrait of an elderly couple hung above the bed on faded, satin-ribbon wallpaper and kept company with her slumber.

The air outside the window was still and cold. The distant sound of voices, backslapping laughter, profanity, and a piano’s tinny, repetitious melody wafted down Dodge City’s main thoroughfare and snuck into the small room where Dora was sleeping.

Dodge was an all-night town. Walkers and loungers kept the streets and saloons busy. Residents learned to sleep through the giggling, growling, and gunplay of the cowboy consumers and their paramours for hire. Dora was accustomed to the nightly frivolity and clatter. Her dreams were seldom disturbed by the commotion.

All at once the hard thud of a pair of bullets charging through the door and wall of the tiny room cut through the routine noises of the cattle town with uneven, gusty violence. The first bullet was halted by the dense plaster partition leading into the bed chambers. The second struck Dora on the right side under her arm.  There was no time for her to object to the injury, no moment for her to cry out or recoil in pain. The slug killed her instantly.

In the near distance, a horse squealed, and its galloping hooves echoed off the dusty street and faded away.

A pool of blood poured out of Dora’s fatal wound, turning the white sheets she rested on to crimson. A clock sitting on a nightstand next to the lifeless body ticked on steadily and mercilessly. It was 4:15 in the morning on October 4, 1878, and for the moment nothing but the persistent moonlight filtering into the scene through a closed window marked the thirty-four-year-old woman’s passing.

Twenty-four hours prior to Dora’s being gunned down in her sleep, she had been on stage at the Alhambra Saloon and Gambling House. She was a stunning woman whose wholesome voice and exquisite features had charmed audiences from Abilene to Austin. She regaled love-starved wranglers and rough riders at stage and railroad stops with her heartfelt rendition of the popular ballads “Blessed Be the Ties That Bind” and “Because I Love You So.”

Adoring fans referred to her as the “nightingale of the frontier,” and admirers continually competed for her attention. More times than not, pistols were used to settle arguments about who would be escorting Dora back to her place at the end of the evening. Local newspapers claimed her talent and beauty “caused more gunfights than any other woman in all the West.”

Dora arrived in Dodge City in June of 1878.  Several of the city’s residents who knew the songstress was on her way were eagerly anticipating her arrival.  Among them was the mayor of Dodge City, James Kelley.  Mayor Kelley had made Dora’s acquaintance at Camp Supply.  He was smitten with her, and the pair became romantically involved shortly after she stepped off the stage in Dodge.

James “Spike” Kenedy, the handsome, overly indulged son of Texas cattle baron Mifflin Kenedy, was annoyed that Dora was spending time with the mayor.  He hoped to make her his own.  James was a tall man with a strong build and he was accustomed to getting his own way.  He wore tailor-made clothes and carried himself with confidence derived mostly from his family’s sizeable bank account and land holdings.  In September 1878, James strutted into the Alhambra Saloon and Gambling House with the intention of proposing to Dora.  He hoped they’d marry quickly, and then he would escort her back to the family ranch.  It didn’t enter his mind that Dora would reject his offer of marriage in favor of a relationship with the mayor.  He was furious when she told him, and his hatred of Mayor Kelley and Dora grew from that day forward.

To learn more about the posse after James Kenedy read

Principles of Posse Management

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Lessons from the Old West for Today’s Leaders

Divide and Conquer

Posse leaders after the first outlaw gang to rob a train determined early on that the best way to capture the bandits was to employ an age-old plan of attack.  Deputy U. S. Marshal Hixon decided to gain an advantage over the desperados by divided the posse in two.  The lawmen were able to overtake several of the bandits in Ingalls, Oklahoma.

Inspire Trust

The first job of a leader is to inspire trust.  Deputy U. S. Marshal Bill Tilghman inspired trust in politicians and law enforcement agents throughout the Oklahoma territory.  Lawman Bat Masterson called him the “best of us all.”  It was only natural Tilghman would be called on to help capture the Doolin-Dalton gang.  Tilghman knew trust was the single most essential element to the ability to deliver extraordinary results in an enduring way.  To assist him in tracking the notorious train robbers, Tilghman called on two men he trusted with his life, Heck Thomas and Chris Madsen.  These men became legendary in their pursuit for outlaws.

Be steadfast and relentless.

Marshal Tilghman and his posse were driven to succeed.  The Doolin-Dalton gang eluded them for a while, but the lawmen were single-minded in their pursuit.  Action combined with commitment results in success.  In the case of the Doolin-Dalton gang it resulted in criminals’ deaths.

Know when to ignore public perception

The Doolin-Dalton gang’s reputation for being able to evade the law was well documented and many doubted the outlaws would ever be apprehended.  If the posse after the gang had believed what the newspapers reported as a “futile endeavor” the lawmen would never have begun the search for them.  The posse never entertained the idea that tracking the lawbreakers was folly because in their minds there was no other option beyond getting the bad guys.  If they path the posse followed wasn’t successful it didn’t mean it was time to give up.  It just meant it was time to shift tactics.

Be willing to accept advice.

Bill Doolin had been hiding out in New Mexico for weeks and the posse after the outlaw was unable to locate him.  One of the posse members reminded Officer Heck Thomas that Doolin was hopelessly in love with his wife and child and would eventually come out of hiding to try and get to his family.  It was suggested that the posse travel to Oklahoma where Doolin’s wife lived and wait for the desperado to appear.  The advice paid off.  Doolin did return home and the posse was waiting for him.

To learn more about the posse after the Doolin-Dalton Gang read

Principles of Posse Management.

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Posse Management:  Lessons from the Old West for Today’s Leaders

One of the grizzliest battles between outlaws and lawmen took place on September 3, 1893, twelve miles east of Stillwater, Oklahoma, at the town of Ingalls.  More than ten people who were situated on the eastern edge of Payne County only a few miles from the rocky retreats and nearly inaccessible wooded areas of Creek County were killed.   For some time it had been the spot where a gang of bandits, murderers, train robbers, and horse thieves known as the Doolin-Dalton Gang had made their headquarters.

The two-hundred-fifty people that resided in Ingalls had decided it was better business and safer to accept the outlaws who had overtaken the town than to fight them.  In return for not robbing local merchants, outlaws could get drunk in an Ingalls’ saloon without having to shoot their way out, and they could rent a bed in Mary Pierce’s hotel (with or without a girl in it) and not have to worry about waking up with a sheriff’s gun in their chests.

The Doolin-Dalton Gang was the last great bandits of the old West.  Bill Doolin and William Dalton worked to together at the HX-Bar Ranch in Oklahoma Territory.  In 1891, they decided life as ranch hands was too sedate and traded in their legitimate jobs to rob trains and banks.  Federal marshals began pursuing the gang in October 1892, after the daring outlaws attempted a double band holdup in Coffeyville, Kansas.  The gang was comprised of more than eight men.  In addition to the Dalton boys and Bill Doolin, there were also George Newcomb, alias Bitter Creek, Tom Jones, also known as Roy Daugherty, William “Texas Jack” Blake, and Dan Clifton, alias Dynamite Dick.

It wasn’t until after the Doolin-Dalton Gang held up two trains in the Cherokee Outlet at Wharton in Oklahoma that law enforcement learned the outlaws were hiding in caves outside Ingalls, Oklahoma, and as an extension, Ingalls itself.  Deputy U. S. Marshal John Hixon rode toward Ingalls on Thursday, August 31, 1892.  Among the fourteen members of the posse with him were marshals L. J. Shadley, T. J. Houston, Dick Speed, and Jim Masterson.  They had received information that the gang was rendezvousing at the hotel at nine in the morning.  The posse decided to separate and make their way into Ingalls from different directions.  They would surround the town and move in to capture the outlaws on Friday, September 1, 1892.

The Pierce Hotel was a two-story structure that possessed an almost unobstructed view of the entire town.  A woman named Anderson, commonly reported to be George Newcomb’s girlfriend, was at the hotel when the posse began approaching Ingalls from the north, northwest, and northeast.  While on the balcony surveying the sights, Newcomb’s paramour saw something suspicious moving in the middle distance.  Other gang sympathizers noticed the activity, too, and reported to Bill Doolin.  An alarm warning the outlaws that the law was closing in sounded throughout the burg.

Four of the five bandits hurried across the street to Ransom’s Saloon where a fifth bandit was waiting, prepared to open fire on the posse fast approaching.  Tom Jones stayed behind at the hotel in an upstairs room ready to cover his colleagues when and if they retreated.  Tom had no sooner loaded his gun and aimed out the window than the lawmen opened fire on the outlaws in the saloon.  The desperadoes returned fire.  Bullets pierced buildings and shattered glass.

To learn more about the Doolin-Dalton Gang read

Principles of Posse Management