As those of you who follow this blog know, I sometimes include book reviews here. Recently, a writer asked me if I would review a piece of historical fiction, a novel set in ancient times. I was pleased at the request and agreed. However, for reasons that will become clear, I decided against a standard assessment of the book.
That’s because major problems in the treatment kept jerking me out of the narrative flow. The reasons why are instructive. But I do not plan to identify either the author or the book title. I will also do my best to mask the exact nature of the story itself. The problems I encountered illustrate, I’m afraid, why many historians don’t much like historical fiction.
The sample copy arrived in the mail and I immediately read the back-cover blurb. (I hasten to note that the cover art was very well done.) A glance at the first page or so heightened my excitement. Novels set in Classical Greek or Roman times are rather unusual. The story I was to review was set over a time period that spanned the later years of the Seleucid Empire.
To refresh your memory, the Seleucid Empire ruled a large part of the Middle East after the breakup of Alexander the Great’s empire. Antiochus the Great ascended to the Seleucid throne in 223 BC. He expanded and stabilized the empire, but also suffered a painful defeat against the Roman Republic in 188. After his death the following year, the empire declined. Thus, around 140 BC, the Jewish Maccabees wrested a semi-independent kingdom from the Seleucids.
The novel is written as the memoirs of three men, linked by family, whose lives overlap during this period. Each serves with the Roman Army. I began reading with much anticipation. However, after not too many pages, I began to lose the flow. I’d have a spurt of interest, and then feel like I’d been thrown off track.
I had been reading as a reader, but now I backed off a bit and began to read analytically. At first, I thought the problem arose from some distracting matters of writing “craft” – not directly relevant to the subject of this blog. But then came (cliché alert) “the straw that broke the camel’s back.” The narrator says that another character “needed to vent” about something terrible that had happened. This phrase, used in the sense of an emotional catharsis, is a rather modern Americanism. In fact, “vent” with a meaning of “express freely” did not appear in the language until around 1590 AD.
An “anachronism” is something considered “out of its time.” Some are blatant: A character using an automatic pistol during the American Civil War. (Automatic pistols – like the famous Colt .45 automatic – were not invented until the 1890s.) Others are harder to spot: A character checking his wristwatch while he waited for the Admiral Horatio Nelson funeral procession to start. (Lord Nelson was killed at Trafalgar in 1805; the first wristwatch appeared in 1868. Knowledgeable readers would consider this a blatant anachronism, but I suspect others might miss it.)
Of course, “the master,” William Shakespeare, is often accused of anachronisms in his plays – and rightly so. However, back then, very little study had been devoted to “what life was like” in those earlier times. Even classically-educated Elizabethans learned few details of daily life in ancient times. The lower classes knew nothing at all. So playwrights selectively used upper-class artifacts shown in historic statuary and frescoes, or contemporary props that would at least be familiar to their audience. Moreover, as just one example, reproducing Roman costumes, weapons, etc. for a stage production of Julius Caesar would have been far too costly.
But perhaps the most difficult anachronisms occur in the use of language … and that turned out to be why I could not really “get into” the story. The narrators of these memoirs are meant to be Romans, living in the period 220-140 BC. Although one endured years of slavery (as a captured soldier), they are from the upper classes of Roman society and are well-educated.
Early on, the story-teller refers to the first “Punic War.” Well … the Romans of the time did not call it that. The epic poem, Punica, was not written until at least 170 years after the Romans destroyed Carthage. The term “Punic” for “pertaining to Carthage” did not come into general usage until around 1530 AD.
No big deal. The reference quickly set the time frame, and I barely noticed the anomaly the first time through. But on the very next page, the narrator’s father remarks that he had “grown like a weed.” Somehow, that did no sound like something a Roman would say, so I checked it out. The first known use of that analogy was in John Heywoods Proverbs, published in 1546 AD. In fact, “weed” has no Latin cognate; it is Old English, from about 1400 AD and based on a Germanic root.
On the next page, the narrator states that he knew he could not “talk back to” his father. That phrase, in the sense of disagree or argue, dates from around 1800 AD, or later. Beyond that, both “talk” and “back” are of Germanic origin.
The use of specific words also began to distract me. “Booty,” as applied to captured wealth, dates from around 1450 and has a Germanic root. (The narrator later speaks of the “spoils” of war, a more appropriate term.) “Intelligence” in the sense of “information obtained from scouts and/or spies” did not come into usage until around 1550 AD. The narrator also says he participated in a “debriefing,” an egregious anachronism since that term did not exist until around 1945.
You may well feel that I’m being too picky. And it’s true that the presence of any one, or even a few of these anachronistic references would not necessarily be a problem. (Although even one would be a “deal breaker” for some readers.) But there are so many, including some that are considered modern clichés. When the reader cannot get through a few pages without encountering another one, the anachronisms become a major distraction.
And it did go on like that. At one point, in a span of three pages, the narrator used “intelligence” (for “information”) again, plus “britches” to describe some barbarian’s trousers. Besides these specific words, he also used the phrases “weak kneed” and “be his own boss.” First of all, “britches” is a Twentieth Century term. (There is a perfectly good Latin word – bracae – for trousers, by the way.) “Weak kneed,” used to show concern or nervousness, did not come into usage until 1850 AD. Moreover, “weak” is from a Germanic root. The “boss” phrase is quite modern. The word itself, from a Dutch (i.e. Germanic) term for “master” (baas), did not appear in English until 1640 AD
I tried to persevere after that, but a few pages later I hit the “needed to vent” usage. After that, I began skipping through the book, jumping ahead pages at a time. I continued to find language anachronisms, some repeats plus many new ones. To bolster this “unreview,” I even made notes about phrases whose origins I could trace. The examples I’ve used in this blog are only a third of those I recorded – and that list came from less than a third of the book. (There were also others that caught my attention, but I could not easily find their sources.)
Right toward the end, the narrator says, “What’s done is done” to denote unhappy circumstances that cannot be changed. This phrase first appeared in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, published around 1605 AD. “Done” itself, as the past participle of “do” is from Old English and is therefore of Germanic origin.
An author must tread a fine line between authenticity and being understandable to his/her audience. And English offers many, many choices in how to say something. Here, the author’s choices just didn’t sound right, coming from those characters. Thus, the narrators never convince me that they are actual Romans, telling their own stories. And without that “willing suspension of disbelief,” I did not much care what happened to them.
In the end, as noted above, I decided not to publish a standard review of this book. Sad. I really wanted to enjoy the book. The story itself is well-conceived, and the characters seem like they could be interesting. The author has clearly done a lot of research about that period of history, and has crammed an amazing amount of it into the text.
Some will surely think I’m being too picky about the anachronistic language, and perhaps they’re right. Without that, I would have probably enjoyed the characters, solid historical research, and a pretty good story. If you think you might be interested in reading the novel, send me a separate e-mail and I’ll identify it for you. (It’s available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.)
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Stagecoach and Freight Routes in South-Central Idaho
Before railroads entered Idaho, animal-drawn stagecoaches and wagons transported most people and freight. Main routes connected large settlements, while feeder lines came and went as events dictated. One of the more interesting side routes operated in South-Central Idaho in the early 1880s.
When Congress created Idaho Territory in March 1863, many emigrant wagons, mostly drawn by ox teams, still crossed the region. They followed the Oregon Trail, but there was no stagecoach service along that route. Not until August of 1864 did scheduled stagecoach service arrive in Boise City. From there, the line continued more or less along the old Oregon Trail to The Dalles in Oregon.
That route across southern Idaho from northern Utah became the most traveled road in the Territory. The second most favored track ran across eastern Idaho into Montana. There, coaches and freight wagons took a path that was generally similar to the later railroad route.
Then, in 1869, crews completed the transcontinental railroad. A station at Kelton, Utah, near the northwest tip of the Great Salt Lake, became the preferred link for central Idaho and points west. Except in the winter, passengers and freight followed the so-called Kelton Road through City of Rocks. From there, they turned north and then west to the station at Rock Creek, about 12 miles southeast of today’s Twin Falls.
During part of the winter, passengers traversed the City of Rocks segment on horse-drawn sleighs. Meanwhile, freight wagons avoided that area, taking a track through Albion, then the seat of Cassia County, and on to Rock Creek. For nearly a decade, the route crossed the Snake River via a ferry 25-30 road miles from Rock Creek. (Over the years, at least two, and possibly three operators ran a ferry in this general area.) Coaches and wagons then followed the old Oregon Trail into Boise City.
About every twelve miles, stage lines of that day positioned stops where fresh teams replaced jaded ones. So-called “home stations” were located about fifty miles apart. Here, passengers could purchase a rough meal and perhaps accommodations for the night. The town of Rock Creek started as one such home station.
In 1878, John Hailey’s Utah, Idaho, and Oregon Stage Company (UI&O) improved the road along the south side and switched the route to cross via Glenns Ferry. They followed a different track onto the high ground, but rejoined the Oregon Trail further west before continuing into Boise.
The following year, the discovery of fabulous lodes of silver in the Wood River drainage set off a rush into that area. By 1881, the towns of Ketchum, Hailey, and Bellevue were booming. The Idaho Statesman headlined (February 22, 1881), “Stage Line to Wood River.”
The UI&O had work crews out stocking stage stops along two branches. One split off from the old Oregon Trail in an easterly direction, headed for the soon-to-be town of Shoshone. From there, it continued into Bellevue. Stages on this branch carried passengers to and from Boise City.
The other new branch left the Kelton Road at Goose Creek, about twelve miles west of Albion. This route crossed the Snake via Starrh’s Ferry, which had been granted an operating license in July 1880. From the ferry, the track headed generally northwest. Traces of the first station north of the river on this branch can still be seen.
The track passed through some rugged country, including several miles where sand dunes impeded progress. It finally linked up with the Boise branch to continue into Bellevue. In the spring, the Idaho Statesman reported (April 23, 1881), “Two daily stages are to be run from Kelton to Wood River.”
The UI&O did not have the field all to themselves, however. They has to contend with a stage line that linked with the Utah & Northern (U&N) Railway at Blackfoot. The competition was not always friendly. Blackfoot boosters claimed (Blackfoot Register, April 16, 1881) “that a report had been circulated in Ogden that the new iron bridge over Snake river had been washed away.” They blamed their competitor for circulating false rumors to scare customers away.
When the Wood River mines first opened up, operators had no way to process their complex lead-silver minerals locally. Thus, for the first few years, they hauled their best ore over the Starrh Ferry route to Kelton. Rails cars then carried the ore to smelters in Salt Lake City, Denver, and as far away as Omaha.
So far as is known, none of the ore went to the railroad station at Blackfoot … for a very good reason. The U&N tracks were then narrow gauge – they would not switch to standard gauge until July 1887. The transcontinental line was all standard gauge, so operators would have faced the added expense of transferring the ore or using special rail cars.
In any case, this lucrative freight business did not last very long. All through 1882, crews for the Oregon Short Line Railroad (OSL) laid tracks west from Pocatello. Early that year, the town of Shoshone came into being, and the tracks reached there in February 1883. Three months later, the OSL completed a branch line from Shoshone into Hailey. By then, long haul traffic – passengers and freight – had stopped using the Kelton Road and its branches.
Nonetheless, most segments continued in use for local traffic. Of course, the railroad caused some rerouting. The Idaho Statesman reported (July 1, 1884) that a new route was “contemplated from Goose Creek, via Starrh’s ferry to Kimama, on the O. S. L.” (Kimama is now a railroad siding a bit over 20 miles north of Burley.)
Starrh’s Ferry manipulated the power of the river current to move back and forth. It thus ceased operation in 1904, when Milner Dam stopped the free flow of the Snake. Even then, well-worn stage and freight tracks served local traffic, and some eventually became major highway routes.
Around 1910-1920, “auto stages” finally replaced horse- or mule-drawn stagecoaches on most passenger routes around the state. These usually employed gasoline-powered touring cars; what we call “buses” arrived a few years later. Although hard evidence is lacking, seasonal stagecoach traffic on some back-country roads may have continued well into the 1930s.
* I am being deliberately vague about specific locations along this route, which was brought to my attention by a landowner in the area. Much of the old line passes through private property. The station remnants are on public land, but need to be preserved for possible future study.
References: [B&W], [Hawley]
John Bertram, et al, Rock Creek Station and Stricker Homesite: Idaho Historical Site Master Plan, Idaho State Historical Society (2001).
“Ben Holladay’s Overland Stage Line in Idaho,” Reference Series No. 1002, Idaho State Historical Society (January 1993).
Larry R. Jones, “Snake River Ferries,” Reference Series No. 54, Idaho State Historical Society (October 1982).
"Site Report - Wood River," Reference Series No. 206, Idaho State Historical Society (1981).
“Stage Lines – Overland and Kelton,” Reference Series No. 146, Idaho State Historical Society
 |
| Wagons on the Oregon Trail. Utah State Historical Society. |
When Congress created Idaho Territory in March 1863, many emigrant wagons, mostly drawn by ox teams, still crossed the region. They followed the Oregon Trail, but there was no stagecoach service along that route. Not until August of 1864 did scheduled stagecoach service arrive in Boise City. From there, the line continued more or less along the old Oregon Trail to The Dalles in Oregon.
That route across southern Idaho from northern Utah became the most traveled road in the Territory. The second most favored track ran across eastern Idaho into Montana. There, coaches and freight wagons took a path that was generally similar to the later railroad route.
Then, in 1869, crews completed the transcontinental railroad. A station at Kelton, Utah, near the northwest tip of the Great Salt Lake, became the preferred link for central Idaho and points west. Except in the winter, passengers and freight followed the so-called Kelton Road through City of Rocks. From there, they turned north and then west to the station at Rock Creek, about 12 miles southeast of today’s Twin Falls.
 |
| Stagecoach on Kelton Road. Idaho State Historical Society. |
During part of the winter, passengers traversed the City of Rocks segment on horse-drawn sleighs. Meanwhile, freight wagons avoided that area, taking a track through Albion, then the seat of Cassia County, and on to Rock Creek. For nearly a decade, the route crossed the Snake River via a ferry 25-30 road miles from Rock Creek. (Over the years, at least two, and possibly three operators ran a ferry in this general area.) Coaches and wagons then followed the old Oregon Trail into Boise City.
About every twelve miles, stage lines of that day positioned stops where fresh teams replaced jaded ones. So-called “home stations” were located about fifty miles apart. Here, passengers could purchase a rough meal and perhaps accommodations for the night. The town of Rock Creek started as one such home station.
In 1878, John Hailey’s Utah, Idaho, and Oregon Stage Company (UI&O) improved the road along the south side and switched the route to cross via Glenns Ferry. They followed a different track onto the high ground, but rejoined the Oregon Trail further west before continuing into Boise.
The following year, the discovery of fabulous lodes of silver in the Wood River drainage set off a rush into that area. By 1881, the towns of Ketchum, Hailey, and Bellevue were booming. The Idaho Statesman headlined (February 22, 1881), “Stage Line to Wood River.”
The UI&O had work crews out stocking stage stops along two branches. One split off from the old Oregon Trail in an easterly direction, headed for the soon-to-be town of Shoshone. From there, it continued into Bellevue. Stages on this branch carried passengers to and from Boise City.
 |
| Stage Station Footprint. Landowner photo.* |
The track passed through some rugged country, including several miles where sand dunes impeded progress. It finally linked up with the Boise branch to continue into Bellevue. In the spring, the Idaho Statesman reported (April 23, 1881), “Two daily stages are to be run from Kelton to Wood River.”
 |
| Stagecoach (green) and Railroad (gray/black) Lines. |
When the Wood River mines first opened up, operators had no way to process their complex lead-silver minerals locally. Thus, for the first few years, they hauled their best ore over the Starrh Ferry route to Kelton. Rails cars then carried the ore to smelters in Salt Lake City, Denver, and as far away as Omaha.
 |
| Wagon Ruts in the Lava. Landowner photo.* |
In any case, this lucrative freight business did not last very long. All through 1882, crews for the Oregon Short Line Railroad (OSL) laid tracks west from Pocatello. Early that year, the town of Shoshone came into being, and the tracks reached there in February 1883. Three months later, the OSL completed a branch line from Shoshone into Hailey. By then, long haul traffic – passengers and freight – had stopped using the Kelton Road and its branches.
Nonetheless, most segments continued in use for local traffic. Of course, the railroad caused some rerouting. The Idaho Statesman reported (July 1, 1884) that a new route was “contemplated from Goose Creek, via Starrh’s ferry to Kimama, on the O. S. L.” (Kimama is now a railroad siding a bit over 20 miles north of Burley.)
Starrh’s Ferry manipulated the power of the river current to move back and forth. It thus ceased operation in 1904, when Milner Dam stopped the free flow of the Snake. Even then, well-worn stage and freight tracks served local traffic, and some eventually became major highway routes.
Around 1910-1920, “auto stages” finally replaced horse- or mule-drawn stagecoaches on most passenger routes around the state. These usually employed gasoline-powered touring cars; what we call “buses” arrived a few years later. Although hard evidence is lacking, seasonal stagecoach traffic on some back-country roads may have continued well into the 1930s.
* I am being deliberately vague about specific locations along this route, which was brought to my attention by a landowner in the area. Much of the old line passes through private property. The station remnants are on public land, but need to be preserved for possible future study.
References: [B&W], [Hawley]
John Bertram, et al, Rock Creek Station and Stricker Homesite: Idaho Historical Site Master Plan, Idaho State Historical Society (2001).
“Ben Holladay’s Overland Stage Line in Idaho,” Reference Series No. 1002, Idaho State Historical Society (January 1993).
Larry R. Jones, “Snake River Ferries,” Reference Series No. 54, Idaho State Historical Society (October 1982).
"Site Report - Wood River," Reference Series No. 206, Idaho State Historical Society (1981).
“Stage Lines – Overland and Kelton,” Reference Series No. 146, Idaho State Historical Society
Friday, May 11, 2012
History, Historical Fiction, and Related Thoughts on Writing the Same
Early yesterday, I received an invite to join a Historical Fiction Group hosted on LinkedIn, the business-slanted social media network. Since I am currently working on a historical novel, I decided to join it. One of the Group’s forums was discussing “What is considered historical fiction?” That made me chuckle because I’ve been involved with similar “religious” arguments about “What is science fiction?” (More on the science fiction issue in a bit.)
As some of you who follow this blog know, I write stories and novels in addition to my historical articles and books. The historical novel I'm working on grew out of information gleaned from my research on Idaho history. I have also written a few Western short stores. Some people refuse to consider Westerns even as a sub-genre of historical fiction ... and certainly the classic Western involves some conventions that seem contrived and overly restrictive in terms of historical fiction.
Be that as it may, an “easy” definition of historical fiction uses what I call the “age test.” That is, if the average reader – whoever that is – would have been too young to remember, personally, the actual world events of that period, then a book about that time would be historical fiction. Some simply reduce that to “fifty years” in the past and leave it at that. For me, these notions are amusing but unhelpful because there’s no way we can agree on a time value.
One of my favorite “historical” artifacts is the annual list put out by Beloit College to help college professors understand what is already “dated” for their freshman students. Some items don’t surprise us older folks, while others make us say Huh? for a moment. Examples:
#69 The Post Office has always been going broke.
#32. Czechoslovakia? Wasn’t that conquered by Attila the Hun? Or did he found it? (So if we write a “young adult” novel, can we treat events in Czechoslovakia as ancient history? Maybe so.)
As usual in such matters it’s generally easier to say what is not (really) historical fiction. Most of us would probably not consider novels written as adventures, mysteries, etc. in their own time – when their own time was long ago – as historical fiction. Yet the light thrown on historical times is half the fun of reading most anything written by Charles Dickens, Herman Melville, Arthur Conan Doyle, and so on. The fact that Dickens actually wrote some of his novels as historical fiction complicates matters, of course.
Yet all that may offer one “rule of thumb” to encompass the genre. Think about the famous opening to A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. ...” Dickens felt the need to clearly set the timeframe at a point in past history. Some novels do open with a prologue in the past (sometimes distant past) but they then jump to something that is recognizably the “present” of the writer’s day.
So from a practical standpoint, the author of a historical novel must establish, generally within the first few pages, that the story is set some time in the past. Requiring a minimum time span is arbitrary and probably unnecessary, depending upon the rest of the author’s treatment.
A second rule of thumb involves the use of historical events. Actual past events should materially affect what the characters do, and how they behave. If outside events don’t change the characters or their actions, then what’s the point of having the story set in the past?
Finally, the crucial episodes of the historical novel should not “catch up” with the present. For me, this is a practical matter involving reader expectations.
Suppose a novel traces the fictional history of a political family, pointing toward one prominent member of that family. The final chapter cannot open with that politician running for office in the present time, with issues still unresolved. Forget the reader, because your novel won’t get to them. The editor or agent who gets the manuscript will say: “You should have told me this was a contemporary political novel.” After all, for most people, what’s happening now is all-important. You would be expected to “frame” the historical buildup between a contemporary opening and a present-day ending.
A novel that traced the history of an important medical development, or heroic physician, would be subject to the same scrutiny if it ended with a present-day climax. (You can fill in the blanks for other topics.) It seems to be all right to complete the novel, with climax and closure, and then show some present-day impact as a triumphant, ironic, bitter-sweet, or even tragic Afterword.
Now let’s shift gears a bit to “future history” – a (weak) definition of one sub-genre of what we generally call science fiction. A few years back, I attended a science fiction conference where a famous, much-published author was guest of honor. During a question-and-answer panel, I asked him if he thought a knowledge of history was important for writers who wanted to create realistic future societies for their novels. He clearly agreed that it was, but the panel time limit expired before he/we could develop the idea.
Historical background is vital because, no matter how futuristic we make the setting, we are the only intelligent (no jokes, please) creatures we know. It is incredibly difficult to create a truly alien society (believe me, I’ve tried). And the “baseline” by which we – authors and readers – judge their “alienness” is us. But we only know us, collectively, by our history.
That brings us to an odd science fiction sub-genre known as “alternative history.” Most such stories posit that a member of the author’s contemporary society is transported by some unknown mechanism into our past or (projected) future, or to an “alternate timeline.” Sometimes the time traveler to the past changes history, thus creating a new timeline. (Much hand-waving usually ensues to “prove” that he couldn’t have changed his own timeline.) Diana Gabaldon uses a time travel gimmick, but then her characters fit themselves into known history, more or less as in traditional historical fiction.
Perhaps the most interesting alternative history novels don’t bother to create any “convenient” connection to our present day. These stories examine what might have happened if some historical turning point had gone the other way: Suppose Carthage survived the Third Punic War as a counter-check to Roman power? Napoleon had won at Waterloo? Roosevelt died during his first term? The variations are endless. The characters know no other history/society besides their own – there is no other history. Of course, the author must sooner or later let the reader know where/when this history diverged from ours.
Done well, with the ramifications worked out in ways that make sense, such novels are fascinating to read. As you might expect, doing them well requires a careful study of history as we know it.
 |
| Taylor's Bridge at Eagle Rock (Idaho Falls), 1871. Library of Congress |
As some of you who follow this blog know, I write stories and novels in addition to my historical articles and books. The historical novel I'm working on grew out of information gleaned from my research on Idaho history. I have also written a few Western short stores. Some people refuse to consider Westerns even as a sub-genre of historical fiction ... and certainly the classic Western involves some conventions that seem contrived and overly restrictive in terms of historical fiction.
Be that as it may, an “easy” definition of historical fiction uses what I call the “age test.” That is, if the average reader – whoever that is – would have been too young to remember, personally, the actual world events of that period, then a book about that time would be historical fiction. Some simply reduce that to “fifty years” in the past and leave it at that. For me, these notions are amusing but unhelpful because there’s no way we can agree on a time value.
One of my favorite “historical” artifacts is the annual list put out by Beloit College to help college professors understand what is already “dated” for their freshman students. Some items don’t surprise us older folks, while others make us say Huh? for a moment. Examples:
#69 The Post Office has always been going broke.
#32. Czechoslovakia? Wasn’t that conquered by Attila the Hun? Or did he found it? (So if we write a “young adult” novel, can we treat events in Czechoslovakia as ancient history? Maybe so.)
As usual in such matters it’s generally easier to say what is not (really) historical fiction. Most of us would probably not consider novels written as adventures, mysteries, etc. in their own time – when their own time was long ago – as historical fiction. Yet the light thrown on historical times is half the fun of reading most anything written by Charles Dickens, Herman Melville, Arthur Conan Doyle, and so on. The fact that Dickens actually wrote some of his novels as historical fiction complicates matters, of course.
 |
| It was the best of times ... |
Yet all that may offer one “rule of thumb” to encompass the genre. Think about the famous opening to A Tale of Two Cities: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. ...” Dickens felt the need to clearly set the timeframe at a point in past history. Some novels do open with a prologue in the past (sometimes distant past) but they then jump to something that is recognizably the “present” of the writer’s day.
So from a practical standpoint, the author of a historical novel must establish, generally within the first few pages, that the story is set some time in the past. Requiring a minimum time span is arbitrary and probably unnecessary, depending upon the rest of the author’s treatment.
A second rule of thumb involves the use of historical events. Actual past events should materially affect what the characters do, and how they behave. If outside events don’t change the characters or their actions, then what’s the point of having the story set in the past?
Finally, the crucial episodes of the historical novel should not “catch up” with the present. For me, this is a practical matter involving reader expectations.
Suppose a novel traces the fictional history of a political family, pointing toward one prominent member of that family. The final chapter cannot open with that politician running for office in the present time, with issues still unresolved. Forget the reader, because your novel won’t get to them. The editor or agent who gets the manuscript will say: “You should have told me this was a contemporary political novel.” After all, for most people, what’s happening now is all-important. You would be expected to “frame” the historical buildup between a contemporary opening and a present-day ending.
A novel that traced the history of an important medical development, or heroic physician, would be subject to the same scrutiny if it ended with a present-day climax. (You can fill in the blanks for other topics.) It seems to be all right to complete the novel, with climax and closure, and then show some present-day impact as a triumphant, ironic, bitter-sweet, or even tragic Afterword.
Now let’s shift gears a bit to “future history” – a (weak) definition of one sub-genre of what we generally call science fiction. A few years back, I attended a science fiction conference where a famous, much-published author was guest of honor. During a question-and-answer panel, I asked him if he thought a knowledge of history was important for writers who wanted to create realistic future societies for their novels. He clearly agreed that it was, but the panel time limit expired before he/we could develop the idea.
Historical background is vital because, no matter how futuristic we make the setting, we are the only intelligent (no jokes, please) creatures we know. It is incredibly difficult to create a truly alien society (believe me, I’ve tried). And the “baseline” by which we – authors and readers – judge their “alienness” is us. But we only know us, collectively, by our history.
That brings us to an odd science fiction sub-genre known as “alternative history.” Most such stories posit that a member of the author’s contemporary society is transported by some unknown mechanism into our past or (projected) future, or to an “alternate timeline.” Sometimes the time traveler to the past changes history, thus creating a new timeline. (Much hand-waving usually ensues to “prove” that he couldn’t have changed his own timeline.) Diana Gabaldon uses a time travel gimmick, but then her characters fit themselves into known history, more or less as in traditional historical fiction.
 |
| Suppose the Axis Powers Won? |
Perhaps the most interesting alternative history novels don’t bother to create any “convenient” connection to our present day. These stories examine what might have happened if some historical turning point had gone the other way: Suppose Carthage survived the Third Punic War as a counter-check to Roman power? Napoleon had won at Waterloo? Roosevelt died during his first term? The variations are endless. The characters know no other history/society besides their own – there is no other history. Of course, the author must sooner or later let the reader know where/when this history diverged from ours.
Done well, with the ramifications worked out in ways that make sense, such novels are fascinating to read. As you might expect, doing them well requires a careful study of history as we know it.
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Boise River Gold Country. Book Signing Successful
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| Old-Timer Panning for Gold. Idaho State Historical Society. |
Those who follow the blog regularly may recall that on Monday, April 23rd, I sat in the living room and wondered, “What the heck am I going to do with one hundred copies of my book?”
On Sunday afternoon (April 29th), I looked at four meager copies and wondered, “Gee, how many more should I order?”
As you can tell from the numbers, the book signing in Idaho City -- at Donna’s Place -- went far better than I could have ever hoped. THANK YOU! to all of those who showed up to buy books and have them signed. There for awhile Skip Myers and I had a kind of “assembly line” going where we’d sign a copy and then swap so the other could finish.
Honestly, I’m not exactly sure how many we signed. At the end of the day, Skip wrote a check to me for 85 books. Perhaps 10-15 of those were unsigned copies held for future sales. (We sent two unsigned copies to the Placerville store early that morning.) Thanks to "Mindy" and Skip, I now have some photos taken during the event. Here are two samples:
 |
| Skip in Suspenders, Me in the Hat, Plus Two Happy Buyers |
 |
| One of Several People Who Bought Two Copies |
We certainly expect to do more signings, but right now the only “for sure” joint event is the one planned for Memorial Day weekend (May 26-28) at Donna’s Place in Idaho City. I’ll let you know about other events as our plans “gel.”
(For more information about the book, go to the previous book blog, which includes the Table of Contents, or click on the cover image on the left.)
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Boise River Gold Country Information
As mentioned earlier, Boise River Gold Country is now available for purchase online at its dedicated CreateSpace eStore. (It looks like you might be able use an existing amazon.com account at the eStore, but I'm not sure about that.) You can also order the book from Amazon and other online booksellers, such as Barnes & Noble. (If you prefer not to order online, local "bricks and mortar" bookstores will order it for you, but those stores will generally not stock ready-to-buy copies.)
The book is being produced under the imprint of Sourdough Publishing, Idaho Falls, Idaho, with the eStore and Amazon handling retail production and distribution. We will consider bulk orders at special discounts for educational purposes, fund-raising, or corporate gifts. Museums, historical associations, and schools are particularly encouraged to apply. Contact me through Sourdough Publishing or at the blog e-mail address.
The book tells the story, in words and pictures, of the settlement of the mountainous regions drained by the Forks of the Boise River. It all began in 1862, so 2012 is the 150th anniversary of the first towns in the area. That looming milestone prompted Idaho City merchant Skip Myers to ask me to write a new history of the region. (The few existing books on the topic were all out of print.) Boise River Gold Country is the result.
On every page, from the Introduction (“Setting the Scene”) through all the chapters, the book contains at least one image – generally historic photographs. Overall, I used over two hundred photos to supplement and illustrate the textual material. I have included a couple comparable samples here. These are images I was unable to work into the story.
Prospectors first discovered Idaho gold in late 1860, on the tributaries of the Clearwater River in North Idaho. Hordes of miners poured into the region. However, two years later, a party led by Moses Splawn and George Grimes found gold in the Boise Basin, a mountainous area northeast of today’s Boise. These fields proved far more extensive than the earlier finds.
Thus, it was Boise River gold that “gave legs” to the creation of Idaho Territory. The first Territorial census, in September 1863, counted nearly five times as many people in the Basin as in the northern camps and towns. A year later, that imbalance had increased to nearly seven to one. Large-scale gold mining continued in Boise River gold country for almost a century. Also, at the dawn of the Twentieth Century, logging began to increase in importance. Large-scale timber harvesting surpassed mining in value after about 1955, peaking around 1980.
 |
| Idaho Gold Dredge, ca 1912. H.T. French (see References Page). |
The book tells the story, in words and pictures, of the settlement of the mountainous regions drained by the Forks of the Boise River. It all began in 1862, so 2012 is the 150th anniversary of the first towns in the area. That looming milestone prompted Idaho City merchant Skip Myers to ask me to write a new history of the region. (The few existing books on the topic were all out of print.) Boise River Gold Country is the result.
On every page, from the Introduction (“Setting the Scene”) through all the chapters, the book contains at least one image – generally historic photographs. Overall, I used over two hundred photos to supplement and illustrate the textual material. I have included a couple comparable samples here. These are images I was unable to work into the story.
 |
| Boise Basin Gold. Found ca 2009 |
Prospectors first discovered Idaho gold in late 1860, on the tributaries of the Clearwater River in North Idaho. Hordes of miners poured into the region. However, two years later, a party led by Moses Splawn and George Grimes found gold in the Boise Basin, a mountainous area northeast of today’s Boise. These fields proved far more extensive than the earlier finds.
Thus, it was Boise River gold that “gave legs” to the creation of Idaho Territory. The first Territorial census, in September 1863, counted nearly five times as many people in the Basin as in the northern camps and towns. A year later, that imbalance had increased to nearly seven to one. Large-scale gold mining continued in Boise River gold country for almost a century. Also, at the dawn of the Twentieth Century, logging began to increase in importance. Large-scale timber harvesting surpassed mining in value after about 1955, peaking around 1980.
| Setting the Scene | i |
| Chapter One: Before the Golden Age | 1 |
| Chapter Two: Gold Rush Creates Idaho | 7 |
| Chapter Three: Cooperative Mining Replaces the Sourdough | 23 |
| Chapter Four: Placer Mining Fades, Lode Mining Grows | 38 |
| Chapter Five: Dredging and Hardrock Mining | 58 |
| Chapter Six: Big Timber Takes an Interest | 77 |
| Chapter Seven: Mining Revisited | 96 |
| Chapter Eight: Recreation and Tourism | 105 |
| Chapter Nine: World War, and Afterwards | 119 |
| Chapter Ten: Identity TBD | 131 |
| Image Sources | 138 |
| Bibliography | 141 |
 |
| Fixing a Flat on Road into Idaho City. |
Monday, March 19, 2012
George Ainslie, Wikipedia, Google, and Internet Research
No, the title is not an attempt at “Search Engine Optimization.” (I have no idea if those are even good keyword choices.) Rather, the words encompass my thoughts on a project I tackled while I’m waiting for information related to the book I just completed: Boise River Gold Country. (Soon to be the subject of an item here.) The project took me on an interesting and informative journey through the World Wide Web – the subject of this article.
While I was researching and writing the Gold Country book, I accumulated a backlog of what I refer to as my “wikifixes.” These are articles in Wikipedia that I have additional information about. One such item was a short bio of Missouri-born attorney George Ainslie.
Ainslie practiced law in Idaho City, Idaho, the “Queen of the Gold Camps,” from 1863 until early 1890. A small part of his story appears in my book. While seeking more information about him, I hit a very brief Wikipedia article, based solely on his tenure as the Delegate to Congress from Idaho Territory.
That material is reproduced at the end of this article (without the standard sidebar). The item itself says he edited the Idaho World newspaper for four years. The sidebar gave his residence as Lewiston … but the World was an Idaho City newspaper.
Even before I began to dig, I had far more information than Wikipedia had. That included a long (nearly 1,500 words) biography in: An Illustrated History of the State of Idaho, The Lewis Publishing Company, Chicago (1899).
Another short biography appeared in: James H. Hawley, History of Idaho: The Gem of the Mountains, The S. J. Clarke Publishing Company, Chicago (1920). A monograph on Ainslie produced by the Idaho State Historical Society largely repeated the information contained in Hawley, but did include a useful newspaper quote about him. I had also done a historic newspaper search (we have an account with GenealogyBank.com) and found some clippings about Ainslie’s legal and business dealings in Idaho.
From all that, I knew I had enough to significantly improve the Wikipedia item. However, a few minor points remained. And that’s really where this little adventure began.
The Illustrated History biography noted that Ainslie’s family was from Scotland, with several ancestors who fought in the highland regiments of the British Army. It also said that the family went back to Scotland for awhile after George was born. The bio said his father drowned shortly after they returned to Missouri in 1844. Oddly enough, none of the biographies gave his father’s name. It did name his mother, Mary (Borron) Ainslie; she lived until 1886. I thought it would be good to know his father’s name, and where they were from in Scotland.
So off I went to Ancestry.com. After all, I knew plenty about George. Sure enough, I discovered that the father’s name was John, and that he was born in 1807. But it did not say where. Not a crucial gap, but annoying. A quick search on Google proved only that there were too many men named “John Ainslie” to make that approach practical, even when you narrow it down to “Missouri.” Still, I tried some other combinations before abandoning that approach.
I then decided to attack the puzzle through the wife. After all, “Borron” is a reasonably unusual name. The combination “Borron Ainslie” returned 186,000 hits on Google. The eighth item down the very first page linked to a block of excerpts from the Biographical and Historical Memoirs of Northwest Louisiana, The Southern Publishing Company, Chicago & Nashville (1890). Hallelujah! There was my man:
“Of the Ainslie branch of the family, John Ainslie (brother of Col. William Ainslie, of the Ninety-third Regiment Highlanders), married our subject's sister, Mary. He was a barrister or W. S., Edinburgh, Scotland. He was also an author of some note, principally scenes in India, "Auren Zeebe, or Tales of Alraschid," "Ernest Campbell" and "Antipathy," being among his works. He emigrated to Boonville, Mo., about 1836, and was drowned in the Missouri River. His sons, George Ainslie, ex-member of Congress for Idaho, and Mark … ”
I was soon able to cross-reference this hit for some verification. Anyway, I now could infer that they had returned to Edinburgh when George was an infant, although that needed some verification. (Actually, I got diverted to the more interesting material below and never bothered.)
Mention of the “Ninety-third Regiment Highlanders” tickled a memory. (I have studied quite a lot of military history.) The 93rd Regiment of Foot was dubbed “The Sutherlands” and was very famous. There is even a Wikipedia article about them. They were the original “Thin Red Line” that stood off a major Russian cavalry charge at Balaklava during the Crimea War. As it turns out, my wife and I toured the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders Museum, at Stirling Castle, when we visited Scotland a few years back.
However, accounts of that engagement, including the Wikipedia item, only mentioned Sir Colin Campbell, who commanded the Highland Brigade. The 93rd was indeed part of that Brigade, but a Colonel Ainslie was not identified in those accounts. So the question arose: Was Col. William Ainslie with the regiment at the famous Balaklava engagement? Back to the web.
I found a few brief, obscure hits before striking the mother lode: Thomas Carter, Medals of the British Army and How They were Won: The Crimean Campaign, Groombridge & Sons, London (1861). Lieutenant-Colonel William Bernard Ainslie had indeed commanded the 93rd Regiment during its “Thin Red Line” action. He was made a “Companion of Bath” (C. B.) for his leadership there, and in other Crimean engagements. At that point, I decided to add that tidbit (with citation) to the Wikipedia article about the Regiment.
During that research, I also discovered I had not scanned far enough down the page on the Memoirs of Northwest Louisiana. Further along, I found the obituary of Col. Ainslie, taken from the Glasgow Herald. Unfortunately, the transcriber neglected to give a date for the obituary. (Why you would not do that is a mystery to me.) Back to Ancestry.com. Born on Army station in India, William died October 31, 1887. Unfortunately, data at Ancestry.com is not always linked to specific citations. However, in this case, English probate records verify his death date.
I did not actually have all this in hand when I began preparing a revised article about George Ainslie. Some of it turned up when I wanted to learn more about William. But earlier today, I posted the revised material, which includes a mention of the uncle that led the famous “Thin Red Line.”
Clearly, the Web contains an enormous amount of data … which we all knew. I put together this account partly to prove that point, but mostly to encourage those who might be intimidated or overwhelmed by all that information. Relatively simple, and fairly quick searches can cut through those thickets of words. Of course, you should have a specific goal in mind. (If you’re just browsing for interesting bits, then all bets are off.)
First of all, don’t give up just because your first few word combinations don’t recover any “live” hits. Except in extreme cases, I seldom go any deeper than four or five pages into the search results. If nothing relevant shows up, I’d rather revise my search terms and try again. Also, I do not often go to the “Advanced Search” screen. Still, that can be handy in specific cases.
A word of warning. Once your searches begin to pan out, you will almost certainly have a lot of information that is peripheral to your main topic. To accomplish your goal, you need be ruthless about setting that material aside. I finally had to stop tracking the Col. Ainslie threads, which were fascinating, but peripheral to my George Ainslie article. (I may do a future article about the colonel, however.)
After you have some good-looking hits, you must apply some judgement and common sense. We also know there is a good deal of mis-information on the web. Check the credibility of the sources. If none are cited, then I consider that data virtually useless for anything important. I can certainly use it to guide a further search for comparable, but solidly-backed sources. I’ll close with one final plea: Describe your sources, as I have done in the paragraphs above. It will make things easier for us all.
[Old Wikiepedia Article]
George Ainslie (October 30, 1838 in Cooper County, Missouri – May 19, 1913 in Oakland, California) was a Congressional Delegate from Idaho Territory.
Biography
Ainslie attended Saint Louis University in 1856 and 1857. He graduated from the Jesuit College at St. Louis with a law degree and was admitted to the bar in 1860.
Ainslie practiced law briefly in Boonville, Missouri, but moved to Colorado Territory later in 1860. In 1862 Ainslie moved to Lewiston in what was then Washington Territory where he practiced law as well as engaged in mining. In 1865 Ainslie was elected to the Idaho Territorial Legislature and edited the Idaho World newspaper from 1869 to 1873. From 1874 to 1876 he served as a district attorney in Lewiston.
In 1878 Ainslie was elected as a Democrat to the United States House of Representatives as the delegate from Idaho Territory. He was reeelected in 1880 but defeated for a third term in 1882 by Republican Theodore F. Singiser.
After his defeat, Ainslie moved to Boise where he built the city's first electric street railway. Ainslie retired to Oakland, California, and died there in 1913.
Sources
George Ainslie (delegate) at the Biographical Directory of the United States Congress.
 |
| Lawyer Ainslie. Idaho City Historical Foundation. |
While I was researching and writing the Gold Country book, I accumulated a backlog of what I refer to as my “wikifixes.” These are articles in Wikipedia that I have additional information about. One such item was a short bio of Missouri-born attorney George Ainslie.
Ainslie practiced law in Idaho City, Idaho, the “Queen of the Gold Camps,” from 1863 until early 1890. A small part of his story appears in my book. While seeking more information about him, I hit a very brief Wikipedia article, based solely on his tenure as the Delegate to Congress from Idaho Territory.
That material is reproduced at the end of this article (without the standard sidebar). The item itself says he edited the Idaho World newspaper for four years. The sidebar gave his residence as Lewiston … but the World was an Idaho City newspaper.
Even before I began to dig, I had far more information than Wikipedia had. That included a long (nearly 1,500 words) biography in: An Illustrated History of the State of Idaho, The Lewis Publishing Company, Chicago (1899).
Another short biography appeared in: James H. Hawley, History of Idaho: The Gem of the Mountains, The S. J. Clarke Publishing Company, Chicago (1920). A monograph on Ainslie produced by the Idaho State Historical Society largely repeated the information contained in Hawley, but did include a useful newspaper quote about him. I had also done a historic newspaper search (we have an account with GenealogyBank.com) and found some clippings about Ainslie’s legal and business dealings in Idaho.
From all that, I knew I had enough to significantly improve the Wikipedia item. However, a few minor points remained. And that’s really where this little adventure began.
The Illustrated History biography noted that Ainslie’s family was from Scotland, with several ancestors who fought in the highland regiments of the British Army. It also said that the family went back to Scotland for awhile after George was born. The bio said his father drowned shortly after they returned to Missouri in 1844. Oddly enough, none of the biographies gave his father’s name. It did name his mother, Mary (Borron) Ainslie; she lived until 1886. I thought it would be good to know his father’s name, and where they were from in Scotland.
So off I went to Ancestry.com. After all, I knew plenty about George. Sure enough, I discovered that the father’s name was John, and that he was born in 1807. But it did not say where. Not a crucial gap, but annoying. A quick search on Google proved only that there were too many men named “John Ainslie” to make that approach practical, even when you narrow it down to “Missouri.” Still, I tried some other combinations before abandoning that approach.
I then decided to attack the puzzle through the wife. After all, “Borron” is a reasonably unusual name. The combination “Borron Ainslie” returned 186,000 hits on Google. The eighth item down the very first page linked to a block of excerpts from the Biographical and Historical Memoirs of Northwest Louisiana, The Southern Publishing Company, Chicago & Nashville (1890). Hallelujah! There was my man:
“Of the Ainslie branch of the family, John Ainslie (brother of Col. William Ainslie, of the Ninety-third Regiment Highlanders), married our subject's sister, Mary. He was a barrister or W. S., Edinburgh, Scotland. He was also an author of some note, principally scenes in India, "Auren Zeebe, or Tales of Alraschid," "Ernest Campbell" and "Antipathy," being among his works. He emigrated to Boonville, Mo., about 1836, and was drowned in the Missouri River. His sons, George Ainslie, ex-member of Congress for Idaho, and Mark … ”
I was soon able to cross-reference this hit for some verification. Anyway, I now could infer that they had returned to Edinburgh when George was an infant, although that needed some verification. (Actually, I got diverted to the more interesting material below and never bothered.)
Mention of the “Ninety-third Regiment Highlanders” tickled a memory. (I have studied quite a lot of military history.) The 93rd Regiment of Foot was dubbed “The Sutherlands” and was very famous. There is even a Wikipedia article about them. They were the original “Thin Red Line” that stood off a major Russian cavalry charge at Balaklava during the Crimea War. As it turns out, my wife and I toured the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders Museum, at Stirling Castle, when we visited Scotland a few years back.
However, accounts of that engagement, including the Wikipedia item, only mentioned Sir Colin Campbell, who commanded the Highland Brigade. The 93rd was indeed part of that Brigade, but a Colonel Ainslie was not identified in those accounts. So the question arose: Was Col. William Ainslie with the regiment at the famous Balaklava engagement? Back to the web.
I found a few brief, obscure hits before striking the mother lode: Thomas Carter, Medals of the British Army and How They were Won: The Crimean Campaign, Groombridge & Sons, London (1861). Lieutenant-Colonel William Bernard Ainslie had indeed commanded the 93rd Regiment during its “Thin Red Line” action. He was made a “Companion of Bath” (C. B.) for his leadership there, and in other Crimean engagements. At that point, I decided to add that tidbit (with citation) to the Wikipedia article about the Regiment.
During that research, I also discovered I had not scanned far enough down the page on the Memoirs of Northwest Louisiana. Further along, I found the obituary of Col. Ainslie, taken from the Glasgow Herald. Unfortunately, the transcriber neglected to give a date for the obituary. (Why you would not do that is a mystery to me.) Back to Ancestry.com. Born on Army station in India, William died October 31, 1887. Unfortunately, data at Ancestry.com is not always linked to specific citations. However, in this case, English probate records verify his death date.
I did not actually have all this in hand when I began preparing a revised article about George Ainslie. Some of it turned up when I wanted to learn more about William. But earlier today, I posted the revised material, which includes a mention of the uncle that led the famous “Thin Red Line.”
Clearly, the Web contains an enormous amount of data … which we all knew. I put together this account partly to prove that point, but mostly to encourage those who might be intimidated or overwhelmed by all that information. Relatively simple, and fairly quick searches can cut through those thickets of words. Of course, you should have a specific goal in mind. (If you’re just browsing for interesting bits, then all bets are off.)
First of all, don’t give up just because your first few word combinations don’t recover any “live” hits. Except in extreme cases, I seldom go any deeper than four or five pages into the search results. If nothing relevant shows up, I’d rather revise my search terms and try again. Also, I do not often go to the “Advanced Search” screen. Still, that can be handy in specific cases.
A word of warning. Once your searches begin to pan out, you will almost certainly have a lot of information that is peripheral to your main topic. To accomplish your goal, you need be ruthless about setting that material aside. I finally had to stop tracking the Col. Ainslie threads, which were fascinating, but peripheral to my George Ainslie article. (I may do a future article about the colonel, however.)
After you have some good-looking hits, you must apply some judgement and common sense. We also know there is a good deal of mis-information on the web. Check the credibility of the sources. If none are cited, then I consider that data virtually useless for anything important. I can certainly use it to guide a further search for comparable, but solidly-backed sources. I’ll close with one final plea: Describe your sources, as I have done in the paragraphs above. It will make things easier for us all.
[Old Wikiepedia Article]
George Ainslie (October 30, 1838 in Cooper County, Missouri – May 19, 1913 in Oakland, California) was a Congressional Delegate from Idaho Territory.
Biography
Ainslie attended Saint Louis University in 1856 and 1857. He graduated from the Jesuit College at St. Louis with a law degree and was admitted to the bar in 1860.
Ainslie practiced law briefly in Boonville, Missouri, but moved to Colorado Territory later in 1860. In 1862 Ainslie moved to Lewiston in what was then Washington Territory where he practiced law as well as engaged in mining. In 1865 Ainslie was elected to the Idaho Territorial Legislature and edited the Idaho World newspaper from 1869 to 1873. From 1874 to 1876 he served as a district attorney in Lewiston.
In 1878 Ainslie was elected as a Democrat to the United States House of Representatives as the delegate from Idaho Territory. He was reeelected in 1880 but defeated for a third term in 1882 by Republican Theodore F. Singiser.
After his defeat, Ainslie moved to Boise where he built the city's first electric street railway. Ainslie retired to Oakland, California, and died there in 1913.
Sources
George Ainslie (delegate) at the Biographical Directory of the United States Congress.
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Civil War Veteran and Payette River Pioneer John Ireton [otd 03/15]
Stockman and waystation manager John Harvey Ireton was born March 15, 1845 in Clermont County, Ohio, about twenty miles east of Cincinnati. He grew up on the family farm, attaining a common school education. At the age of eighteen, he joined the Ninth Ohio Cavalry, where he soon made sergeant.
During the next two years, the Ninth Ohio marched with General William T. Sherman’s cavalry in Alabama and then on the March to the Sea. His service could not have been easy: Sherman’s cavalry rode under the command of Brigadier General Judson Kilpatrick, who earned the derisive nickname “Kill-Cavalry” for the way he used, and misused, his troops. Ireton’s unit mustered out in July 1865.
In 1868, John traveled via ship and the Isthmus of Panama to San Francisco, and by stagecoach to Idaho … ending in Centerville. By then prospectors had claimed most of the promising ground in Boise Basin. Ireton stayed in the Basin for about three seasons, working for wages. However, he also took a winter job at a ranch about ten miles northeast of Emmett.
Ireton finally left the mines to work at a ranch further north in the Squaw Creek Valley. During the several years needed to accumulate a stake for his own place, he met Josephine Warner, half-sister to Edson Marsh.
Marsh was part owner of a well-known ranch and waystation on the main stage and freight road to the Boise Basin. It was also a crossroads on the route leading to the fertile northern valleys. The Payette River station had changed hands several times after being established in 1863.
In May 1878, John Ireton married Josephine and then, or soon after, bought his own stake in the waystation-ranch. Thereafter, people far and wide knew the place as the Mitchell-Marsh-Ireton Ranch.
The partners added acreage and began expanding their cattle and horse operation. Ireton led a long-term program to upgrade both lines of livestock, and this continued when they began a transition to sheep raising. In 1886, Mitchell sold his interest to his partners and retired. The ranch operated under their ownership for another sixteen years, so some records refer to the property as the Marsh-Ireton Ranch.
Because of its strategic location, the waystation business became the most reliably-profitable part of the operation.
John’s daughter Nellie, born in April 1880, later wrote a history of the Payette River settlements. She recalled that family members sometimes slept on straw pads spread in the sitting room to make space for paying customers.
She also said that “To have fifty for a meal was not uncommon and as many as sixty road horses would often be in the barns and corrals at one time.”
In 1902, they sold the ranch. Ireton moved his family to Boise and invested in real estate. He passed away there in November 1917.
 |
| General Kilpatrick, ca 1863. Library of Congress. |
During the next two years, the Ninth Ohio marched with General William T. Sherman’s cavalry in Alabama and then on the March to the Sea. His service could not have been easy: Sherman’s cavalry rode under the command of Brigadier General Judson Kilpatrick, who earned the derisive nickname “Kill-Cavalry” for the way he used, and misused, his troops. Ireton’s unit mustered out in July 1865.
In 1868, John traveled via ship and the Isthmus of Panama to San Francisco, and by stagecoach to Idaho … ending in Centerville. By then prospectors had claimed most of the promising ground in Boise Basin. Ireton stayed in the Basin for about three seasons, working for wages. However, he also took a winter job at a ranch about ten miles northeast of Emmett.
Ireton finally left the mines to work at a ranch further north in the Squaw Creek Valley. During the several years needed to accumulate a stake for his own place, he met Josephine Warner, half-sister to Edson Marsh.
Marsh was part owner of a well-known ranch and waystation on the main stage and freight road to the Boise Basin. It was also a crossroads on the route leading to the fertile northern valleys. The Payette River station had changed hands several times after being established in 1863.
In May 1878, John Ireton married Josephine and then, or soon after, bought his own stake in the waystation-ranch. Thereafter, people far and wide knew the place as the Mitchell-Marsh-Ireton Ranch.
The partners added acreage and began expanding their cattle and horse operation. Ireton led a long-term program to upgrade both lines of livestock, and this continued when they began a transition to sheep raising. In 1886, Mitchell sold his interest to his partners and retired. The ranch operated under their ownership for another sixteen years, so some records refer to the property as the Marsh-Ireton Ranch.
 |
| Mitchell, Marsh & Ireton Ranch. Library of Congress. |
Because of its strategic location, the waystation business became the most reliably-profitable part of the operation.
John’s daughter Nellie, born in April 1880, later wrote a history of the Payette River settlements. She recalled that family members sometimes slept on straw pads spread in the sitting room to make space for paying customers.
She also said that “To have fifty for a meal was not uncommon and as many as sixty road horses would often be in the barns and corrals at one time.”
In 1902, they sold the ranch. Ireton moved his family to Boise and invested in real estate. He passed away there in November 1917.
| References: [French], [Hawley] |
| Ruth B. Lyon, The Village That Grew, printed by Lithocraft, Inc, Boise (© Ruth B. Lyon, 1979). |
| Samuel J. Martin, Kill-Cavalry: The Life of Union General Hugh Judson Kilpatrick, Stackpole Books, Mechanicsburg, Pennsylvania (2000). |
| Nellie Ireton Mills, All Along the River: Territorial and Pioneer Days on the Payette, Payette Radio Ltd., Montreal, Canada (1963). |
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