Enter now to win a copy of

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

Enter now to win a copy of

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

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.

Enter now to win a copy of

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 

Enter now to win a copy of

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

A cold sunrise greeted the soldiers stationed at Fort Cummings, New Mexico, on the first day of 1868. An eager bugler sounded a call to arms, and members of the Thirty-eighth Infantry hurried out of their barracks to line up in formation, their rifles perched over their shoulders. The enlisted African American men who made up the regiment pulled their army-issued jackets tightly around their necks in an effort to protect themselves from a bitter winter wind. Among the troops falling into place was Private William Cathay. Cathay proudly stood at attention, willing and ready to do battle with the Apaches who were raiding villages and wagon trains heading west. The determined expression the private wore was not unlike the look the other members of the outfit possessed.

The Thirty-eighth Infantry was just one of many black units known as the Buffalo Soldiers, a dedicated division of the US Army that seemed to consistently wear a determined expression. Cathay was not unique in that manner. By all appearances Private Cathay was like the other 134 men who made up Company A. What set this soldier apart from the others, however, was her gender. Cathay was a woman disguised as a man—anxious to follow orders to overtake the Chiricahua Apache warriors.

Cathay stomped her feet to warm them and allowed her eyes to scan the faces of the troops on either side. She’d been with this regiment for more than a year, and no one had learned her secret. No one knew the extremes to which she was willing to go to defend the country that had saved her from a life of slavery.

Fort Cummings’ commander, James N. Morgan, and his entourage approached the soldiers from the headquarters office and looked over the armed men assembled on the parade field. “The Apaches are less mobile in the dead of winter,” Lieutenant Morgan announced. “In fact, this is the only time of year they are even remotely vulnerable.” Private Cathay and the other soldiers hung on every word their commanding officer said. They knew this would be a dangerous mission. Many of the Buffalo Soldiers would die trying to overtake the Indians.

To learn more about Cathy Williams and other such patriots read

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