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Always armed with a revolver or two in her belt and a long sheath-knife in her bootleg, she seemed perfectly able to protect herself in any emergency. —George West, publisher of the Colorado Transcript, January 14, 1885

Music from an out-of-tune piano spilled out of Schell’s Saloon in St. Louis and bounced off the buildings up and down Vine Street. A hot breeze pushed past Charley Hatfield, an overgrown cowboy with a cherub’s face, as he sauntered up to the swinging doors of the weather-beaten bar and gazed inside.

It was the summer of 1854, and every saloon in town was filled with thirsty, ambitious people en route to the gold fields in California. It wasn’t Charley’s love of gold that was driving him west, however; it was something more primal. He had been driven to this place by revenge. Charley surveyed the scene before him. His eyes fixed on a swarthy, careworn man sitting at a poker table in the back of the room. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found the man he’d been looking for—a character named Jamieson. Charley had memorized his enemy’s face; the features had been burned indelibly into his mind. Wandering over to the bar, Charley ordered a beer from a scraggly bartender. In the mirror behind the dusty counter, he watched Jamieson deal a hand.

Ever so slowly Charley’s hand sought the butt of his revolver cradled in the holster on his hip. He toyed with the notion of putting a bullet into Jamieson’s head right then. “It would be too cowardly,” Charley mumbled to himself as the bartender slid his drink in front of him. “Before I send him to the unknown, I want him to know why,” he added as he swallowed a big gulp. Charley picked up his beer and walked closer to the table where Jamieson was sitting. He wanted to study the face of the man who had tormented his soul for more than five years.

While he watched Jamieson win hand after hand, his mind mulled over the reason he was here. He remembered how Jamieson had shot the one person he loved more than anything. He remembered how happy his life had been, right up to the hour Jamieson had crossed his path. Charley pulled his hat low over his eyes in an attempt to hide the strong emotions etched into his face. Jamieson, completely unaware of what lay ahead of him, laughed a hearty laugh while raking his winnings into a pile.

To learn more about Charley Hatfield and other such patriots read

Soldier, Sister, Scout, Spy: Women Patriots and Soldiers on the Western Frontier.

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Soldier, Sister, Spy, Scout:  Women Soldiers and Patriots on the Western Frontier

Susan Shelby Magoffin gazed around the small, white-plastered room in Santa Fe and wondered if she might die there. No one seemed sure where the Mexican army was, or how soon a battle might commence.  But there was no doubt about the danger to herself and her husband now that her brother-in-law had been taken by the Mexicans as a spy.  As she had since the start of her honeymoon journey, Susan recorded the day’s events in her journal:

December 1846, Tuesday 1^st:  News comes in very ugly today.  An Englishman from Chihuahua direct, says that the three traders, Dr. Conely, Mr. McMannus, and brother James, who went on ahead to the Chihuahua have been taken prisoners, the two former lodged in the calaboza [jail] while Brother James is on trial for his life.

The messenger who brought the ominous news had gone, but the impact of the latest information from Chihuahua still reverberated like an alarm bell. The fate of everyone associated with James Magoffin was hanging in the balance.  What if her own dear husband, Samuel, left her behind to ride to her brother’s aide?  They had been married less than a year, and despite their strange honeymoon, she could not bear to be parted from the man she called “mi alma,” my soul.

She would insist on going, too, she thought. After traveling thousands of miles across wild and dangerous terrain and through the lands of unfriendly Native Americans on her prairie honeymoon, she had proved her courage to herself and her husband.  She had survived the hazardous two thousand mile journey despite raging storms, wild beasts, hostile tribes, outlaws, and the awful waterless desert they had traversed a few week before.

To learn more about Susan Shelby Magoffin and other women patriots of the Old West read

Soldier, Sister, Spy, Scout: Women Soldiers and Patriots on the Western Frontier

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Among the exhibits on display at P. T. Barnum’s American Theatre in New York City during the summer of 1864 was an actress and patriot of the Union army named Pauline Cushman. Billed as the “Spy of Cumberland,” the celebrated thespian was dressed in the complete uniform of an infantry man, including a saber, a crimson, silk sash, and a forage cap. Her hair under the cap was disheveled, shoulder-length, and curly. She sported a mustache, thin, but unmistakable above her upper lip, and below the lip was a dark tuft of hair. The makeup and overall look was so convincing that unless otherwise notified ticket buyers had no idea the man was really a woman.

Pauline Cushman appeared on stage in the lecture room at P. T. Barnum’s American Theatre from June 6, 1864, to July 9, 1864. She offered a patriotic presentation to more than twenty thousand people in a single month. According to the advertisement issued by P. T. Barnam about Pauline’s engagement, “she was the modern American model of the renowned ‘Joan of Arc.’”

“Miss Pauline Cushman, the Union scout and spy, who under orders from General Rosecrans, passed through enemy lines and accomplished such wonders for the Army of the Cumberland while she was engaged in the secret service of the United States,” the July 6, 1864, edition of the Charleston Mercury read. “Every father and mother who have a son in the Union Army; every child who has learned to love its country and call on heaven to bless its present struggle and preserve its nationality, will rejoice at this opportunity of listening to ‘thoughts that breath and words that burn,’ as they fall from the lips of this high-souled, gallant girl, who, in her deter[1]mination to serve her country, risked her inestimable precious life, and was rescued from a Rebel prison, where by order of the notori[1]ous General Bragg, she lay wounded and languishing with sickness, UNDER SENTENCE OF DEATH!

To learn more about Pauline Cushman and other such patriots read

Soldier, Sister, Scout, Spy: Women Patriots and Soldiers on the Western Frontier

The Nevada County Railroad Museum Presents

The Women Who Helped Build the Railroad

Thursday, July 17, 2024 7-8 P.M. at the Nevada County Railroad Museum 

5 Kidder Court  Nevada City, CA.  

Free to the Public.  Refreshments will be served.

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Soldier, Sister, Scout, Spy: Women Patriots and Soldiers on the Western Frontier  

The distant cadence of drums from the nearly deserted town of San Antonio de Bexar sent a shiver of fear through Juana Navarro Alsbury.  She clutched her baby son closer and strained to hear.  Mexican president and General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna, enemy of her uncle and her husband, had come when least expected, bringing thousands of men and artillery as well as a thirst for vengeance.  The baby wailed at the nearby roar of exploding powder from the cannon mounted at one corner of the Alamo.

That shot signaled defiance by the Texians and Tejanos holed up in the old mission.  Juana soothed the baby and waited, holding her breath for Santa Anna’s response.

It was said he had 1,500 to 6,000 troops, cavalry, and cannon at his command.  Inside the crumbling fortress were several dozen women and children protected by fewer than 200 defenders.  Juana’s new husband, Dr. Horatio A. Alsbury, had galloped off to find volunteers to join the fight, leaving Juana and the baby behind.

Dr. Alsbury had warned that Santa Anna would come down with a heavy hand on the Tejanos (Texans of Mexican descent) and Texians (from the United States) who had settled in the area.  Her husband’s activities were known to the Mexican dictator, as were those of her father, who opposed Santa Anna’s overthrow of the constitution of 1824.  Her father’s brother, Jose Antonio, had put his name on the Texas Declaration of Independence.  If the Alamo fell under the general’s onslaught, the respected name of her Spanish forebears would not protect her little family.

Juana recognized the futility of attempting to hold off the overwhelming force of hardened troops surrounding the old mission turned fortress.  Those inside the Alamo’s walls were also ill prepared to fight Santa Anna, in part because too many people had discounted the Mexican dictator’s determination.  He had already killed all prisoners taken in a battle the year before and been granted by the Mexican government permission to treat as pirates all Tejanos as well as Texians found armed for battle, meaning they would be executed immediately.

The Tejanos and Texians had dismissed reports that the Mexican dictator was nearby.  After all, they argued, two blue northers had recently swept through the area, their freezing winds covering the barren landscape to the south with snow.  What commander would move his troops, many of them barefoot, in such conditions?

Thinking themselves relatively safe, they had celebrated the arrival on February 11, 1836, of the naturalist Davy Crockett with a fandango, a party with music and dancing and merry good spirits, despite the ominous threat said to be marching toward them.  Then, on February 20, a messenger galvanized the town with news that Santa Anna’s army was but twenty-five miles away.  Many townspeople rushed within the walls of the old mission for protection, including Juana, her baby son, and her sister Gertrudis.  The next morning, Juana’s husband had galloped off to bring back reinforcements.

To learn more about Juana Navarro Alsbury  and other such patriots read

Soldier, Sister, Scout, Spy: Women Patriots and Soldiers on the Western Frontier