Wednesday's Random Slang-o-rama: Lollygag

I can hear my mother's voice now: "Quit lollygagging around! You'll make us late!"

Since I'm a bit late in getting this post up (but hey, it's still Wednesday!), lollygag seems like a good word for today's slang-o-rama...
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According to  Merriam-Webster, in current usage, to lollygag is to fool around or dawdle. HOWEVER, its first use dates to about 1868, and back in the 19th century this word had an entirrrrrely different meaning! 

So, what, back then, did lollygagging entail? Well, let's just say if you were strolling down Leadville's State Street in 1880 or so, you might see a lot of lollygagging going on. 

My mother would be horrified, if she only knew...

NOTE: Lollygag was a "word of the day" on the Merriam-Webster site. You can hear a fascinating (and short) podcast about its etymology right here: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/lollygag. Well worth spending a minute and a half of your listening time.

I doubt very much you would ever catch these proper women lollygagging around (at least, in public!).

A Story Forms: Point-to-Point or Dot-to-Dot

Being somewhat at loose ends for a post this week, I turned to the Historic Colorado Newspapers online to see what was up with Leadville in February 1880. Here's what the Colorado Miner (Georgetown, Colorado) had for Saturday, February 21, 1880, in a little column titled "Colorado. Points Pertaining to People and Places":

• Leadville reports for one week arrivals by the various stage lines at 832, and the departures at 501.
• D.W. Fuller, a Boston capitalist, fell from a bucket as he was ascending from a mine at Leadville, and was instantly killed.
• The State Bank of Colorado filed articles of incorporation yesterday.  The bank will do a general banking business in Leadville. The capital stock is $100,000 divided 1,000 shares at $100 each.
• At a ball of the Union Veterans Association in Leadville, a vote was taken to decide who was the handsomest lady in the room. The decision was rendered in favor of Mrs. Judge W.R. Kennedy, formerly Miss Lou. De La Mar, of this city.
• A man named W.E. McIvor was found dead in his bed in a cabin near Leadville, with his face badly torn and eaten by mountain rats. It was thought he was from Georgetown, but this is probably a mistake.
• An installment of 32 bunko-steerers, among whom were several noted highwaymen, reached Leadville on Monday last. Another hanging bee would be in order and do good.

Fairest of them all? - At the Ball, by Berthe Morisot

While typing these random bits into the post, I felt a story forming... completely fictional, of course. This is how it unwound in my mind:

 What if the Boston capitalist's fatal plunge down the shaft was not an accident? Maybe he came to Leadville because of the incorporation of the State Bank. Maybe he goes to the Union Veterans ball, and recognizes the judge's wife when she is named "fairest of them all." Maybe there is something dark in her past, something her husband knows nothing about, but the Boston capitalist does. He uses that knowledge for a little leverage. (Question to self: Leverage for what? Something to do with the bank incorporation, perhaps? Or something completely different, perhaps to do with the mine?)

Maybe the judge's wife, who is not the "shrinking violet" she appears to be, hires one of the "noted highwaymen" to neutralize said capitalist, so her secret remains hidden.

But what about McIvor, dead in the cabin? And, is it really McIvor or could it be someone else? In which case, where is McIvor? And are mountain rats really to blame for the lack of an identifiable face on the corpse?

I do believe there's a story here, built out of imaginary connections, from dot-to-dot until the picture is clear. Perhaps morning (and some caffiene!) will provide further insight.

A title would be nice as well!

Around the track in Leadville, 1880

--> All is quiet on the hometown streets today (Sunday), with most folks (I’m assuming) hunkered down in front of their big screens, watching the Superbowl. Well, there sure wasn’t any football in Leadville during the Silver Rush, so what kind of spectator sports did folks enjoy?

I turned to my copy of Eugene Floyd Irey’s dissertation, A Social History of Leadville, Colorado, During the Boom Days, 1877–1881, for some insight. There was horseracing, apparently, for in the dissertation, he quotes the Leadville Democrat (July 27, 1880)  “… on the race course sporting is rife …”). Yes, I’ll bet it was.

Irey has a section talking about sports, in which he says the most popular varieties were closely allied with contests that offered the opportunity for gambling. Thus, “sporting activity tended rather heavily toward such spectator sports as wrestling, boxing, billiards, shuffle board, walking and horse racing.”

Horse racing seems to have been a big favorite. In 1879, Leadville had constructed a race trace on the edge of town. By the beginning of 1880, the Leadville Trotting and Running Club was holding regular meets, with typical purses for a three-day meet running as high as $6,000.

Now, according to the website MeasuringWorth.com, $6,000 in 1880 equates to about $136,000 today. Wowee!! I can see why there would be so much interest in racing...

 ... One wonders how much money is changing hands this evening, at the conclusion of the Superbowl ...

Sleep well... with help

I recently posted at the Poisoned Pen Press blog about headache/migraine cures that were sometimes used "way back when." Someone then commented/asked about "sleep aids" in the 1800s. Well, heck, ask me to investigate something from the past, and...

 Google books makes it easy to dig back into time and uncover such information. Here, for instance, is a bit of advice from DR. CHASE'S FAMILY PHYSICIAN, FARRIER, BEE-KEEPER, AND SECOND RECEIPT BOOK (I have a hardcopy, but image capture is so much easier than all that typing):

Hmm. Being scrubbed vigorously all over doesn't sound very sleep-inducing to me. And what, I wondered, does a flesh brush (circa 1880) look like?

It looks like this:

This, actually, is "Dr. Scott's Electric Flesh Brush," which was widely advertised starting in the early 1880s. According to the website American Artifacts: Scientific Medical & Mechanical Antiques, Dr. Scott (a bit--or perhaps a lot--of a medical quack) embedded slightly magnetized iron rods in his brush handles, claiming that curative powers could be provided by magnetism.

The rest of Dr. Chase's advice sounds like something you'd hear today: Get out and get some exercise during the day to sleep better at night.

I stumbled across another free historical ebook from the past that looks REALLY interesting regarding this subject (although a bit late for me, as it was published in 1891): INSOMNIA AND ITS THERAPEUTICS by Alexander William Macfarlane. The table of contents gives you an idea of the amount of detail you're in for, as it divides the causes (and cures) of insomnia into various categories: insomnia due to nervous system afflictions (overwork, shock, depressing emotions, hysteria, spasmodic neuroses, etc., etc.),  insomnia due to alimentary canal afflictions (gastric dyspepsia, intestinal dyspepsia, constipation, etc., etc.), and insomnia due to afflictions of the respiratory system and urinary system,  was well as (ahem) afflictions peculiar to females.

With Leadville, Colorado, perched at the 10,000-plus-foot mark in the Rocky Mountains, I can well imagine hordes of men and women, paging desperately through pages of books such as these, looking for "causes and cures" of sleeplessness, which might actually be due to altitude sickness.

An ingredient commonly used in tonics or imbibed "straight" to quiet the mind and body for sleep back then would have been in great supply at The Silver Queen Saloon--my ficitional drinking establishment in Leadville:

Alcohol

Sleep well!

Leadville, February 1880: Beware of Big Ed Burns

I'm taking a break from the daily grind and from blasting anonymous blog spammers into oblivion to revisit Leadville of the past. There may not have been obnoxious spammers in Leadville of February 1880, but there were plenty of con men and so-called "bummers," including Big Ed Burns, who was described by the Carbonate Chronicle thusly:

. . . His strength was something terrible, and his deep chest was a human embodiment of Hercules . . . but with all his massiveness of frame he was agile and quick as a ballet dancer. Standing by the bar in a saloon he prided himself upon the fact that he could kick a man’s hat off with a single sweep of his foot. . . .

Burns did anything to make money, and as he seldom had the cash to engage in any of what are termed square gambling schemes, he earned a precarious livelihood by “skingames.” The old Theatre Comique was his favorite haunt. In a little side room known as “the joint,” many is the honest miner whom Big Ed robbed by dice, bunko or crooked poker. A cabinet of mineral specimens in one corner was always the pretext under which the victim was enticed into the den, and the gigantic form of the swindler did not make it desirable for the “sucker” to kick very loud or long.

. . . Might was right, muscle was master, and wherever brute strength was needed, Big Ed was called upon. The quieting effect that his massive form had upon a crowd, was something not readily expressed in words, and when he leaped into a wrangling circle of men, flung a chair out of the window, and said: “Let there be peace,” the silence was painful.

Several interesting bits emerge from this. First, newspapers are great for identifying slang, i.e., the term "the joint." According to the online etymology dictionary:

... Slang meaning of "place, building, establishment" (esp. one where persons meet for shady activities) first recorded 1877, Amer.Eng., from an earlier Anglo-Irish sense (1821), perhaps on the notion of a side-room, one "joined" to a main room. The original U.S. sense was especially of "an opium-smoking den.

It's also interesting that the poker was crooked, but apparently not the dice nor the bunko. Add to that, apparently Big Ed was employed to keep the peace. Seems it was a common practice to hire thugs as necessary. A big thug no doubt commanded respect and compliance from the "rougher element."

Hmmm. Could be fun to employ a "Big Ed" type of person in some future Silver Rush tale. I'll have to remember that. Too bad there isn't a virtual Big Ed to take take of the anonymous posters of annoying comments to this blog! I'd even suffer a virtual chair through the virtual window to silence them.

Late night dining, 1880s ... or pass the Alka-Seltzer

I recently received an email from a reader of Leaden Skies, who asked:

I am interested in the late hour of the dinners and receptions. Was it normal to hold such events at 10 or 11 PM?

And indeed, Leaden Skies features a couple of late night gastronomic events. I pretty slavishly adhere to what's reported in the newspapers of the day, so can assure you that yes indeed, what appears in the book is accurate. One example is the banqueet held for Ulysses S. Grant during his five-day visit to Leadville in July 1880. The newspapers covered this event in great detail—from the decorations, to the menu, to the speeches afterward (which went on. and on.). The article even includes the hour at which the feasting began (emphasis below is mine):

The dining-room was gorgeously arrayed in evergreens,
flags and flowers. On the east and west walls hung paintings
of General Grant, surrounded with wreaths and evergreens.
Two long parallel tables ranged down each side of the hall,
a third forming at right angles at the head, near the
entrance of the dining-room, capable of seating two hundred
and fifty persons. As the doors of the large dining hall were
thrown open to the guests, sometime after 11 o’clock, the
tables were revealed in all their splendor of culinary decorations—
if this term may be applied—fairly groaning under
their load of delicacies and decorating devices, formed of the
rarest of confections and by the greatest skill, while
arranged in stately order about the tables, were eighteen
waiters in charge of Mr. William McClellan.
As the guests entered the hall, with General Grant in
charge, they were assigned seats at the banquet tables.
The band occupying a position at the head of the banquet,
played an appropriate selection. The banquet was then formally
opened.

So, a couple of hundred people had to file in, be seated, be served ... I'd guess the meal lasted into the wee hours of the morning (2 a.m., maybe?). And we know that the speeches went on for quite a while after that, given how this particular reporter concludes his story:

...By this time the hour had advanced close upon morning.
The feast was over and the speech-making ceased. The General
arising from his chair at the banquet was the signal for
all to retire; and soon the hall was cleared, and the merry
feasters were wending their way homeward just as the gray
light of dawn was lining the eastern sky.

(Of course, at this point, I wondered, "What time was sunrise?" After thrashing around on the internet a bit, I found a site where I could at least determine the sunrise time in Denver, Colorado, on July 24, 1901 (the year 1880 was outside the range of calculation)— 5:50 a.m. So, I'd guess the guests were staggering/straggling home in Leadville, July 24, 1880, sometime around 5 a.m., give or take.

The question remains: Is this late-night dining hour normal??

For more insight, I turned to the arbiter of all things cultural and mannerly for this timeframe (at least, for me): Our Deportment or the Manners, Conduct and Dress of the Most Refined Society by John H. Young, A.M. In the "Receptions, Parties and Balls" chapter, he says this about supper for balls:

The supper-room at a ball is thrown open generally at twelve o-clock.

According to the book, the sort of repast you'd be facing as the clock struck midnight would probably include the following:

The hot dishes are oysters, stewed, fried, broiled and scalloped, chicken, game, etc., and the cold dishes are such as boned turkey, boeuf a la mode, chicken salad, lobster salad and raw oysters.

Ooof! The most I can handle past 11 p.m. is warm Ovaltine and toast.

In any case, thank you, dear reader, for your question, because I had a lot of fun delving into the answer! Now, I'm off to make my Ovaltine...

Welcome to the new decade: 1880!

As we roll from the twenty-aughts to the twenty-teens (or whatever we call this new decade), I've decided to continue my focus back through time in Leadville.

So, here we go.

1879 is over. 1880 (and a new decade!) begins. What was Leadville up to in the early part of January? Well, just as we throw out our old calendars and spruce up the place (and our files) to take on new projects, Leadville decided "out with the old and in with the new," by passing Ordinance 88.

Ordinance 88 changed the name of some of the main streets and instituted a new numbering system for all the city's buildings.

A sample of some of the name changes:
Infamous State Street became Second Street (although the 100 block of West Second Street, where the fictional Inez Stannert has her fictional Silver Queen saloon, continued to be referred to as "State Street" despite the name change).
Main Street became Third Street.
Lafayette and Park Streets (the same street but called by different names, depending which side of Harrison Avenue they landed on) became Fourth Street.
Carbonate and Fifth became simply Fifth Street.
... and so on.

A January 21, 1880, article in Leadville's Evening Chronicle ran a long retrospective piece on real estate (observe here that they used the old street names, not the new):

Real estate operations in Leadville since January 1st, 1879,
have furnished something for the world to wonder at. At that
time there was nothing in the way of business on any street
save Chestnut, between Harrison avenue and Spruce, State
between Pine and Harrison, and Harrison between Chestnut
and State. The brick building of the Star clothing house,
at the southeast corner of State and Harrison, was the outpost
of the business field. North of it the avenue was a
mudsill alley, full of low hovels, stumps, trees and debris. In
fact it was a sort of dumping place for rubbish and filth. Lots
were slow of sale at $100 to $200, between State and Park
streets. In November, 1878, the entire half block facing on
Harrison, bounded by State and Main streets, and running
back to the alley between the avenue and Pine street, was
offered to the proprietors of THE CHRONICLE for four hundred
dollars....

By 1880, all that had changed:

South of the postoffice [at 320 Harrison] . . . to Elm street, lots
of twenty-five feet frontage are held at $5,000 to $8,000 each.
One man asks $10,000 for his lot, but this is an exception.
North of the postoffice, or between Lafayette avenue and the
base of Capitol Hill, prices range from $3,000 down to $1,200.

Easy to see why lot-jumpers proliferated in late 1879!

Early 1880, to be continued. Until then, wishing you:

Words to write by... #4

Two quotes today, taken from a letter that George Elder wrote from Leadville on September 24, 1879, to his mother in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. At the time, George had recently moved to Leadville, hoping to make his way as a lawyer. (Aside: There were many many lawyers in Leadville... about 150 in 1880, according to the census. Lawyers were outnumbered only by miners [3204], laborers [1021], carpenters [487], salesmen [370], hostlers/teamsters/livery stable folk [255], saloon keepers/bartenders [228], restaurant workers [192], and engineers [163].)

These two quotes actually form the foundation for my fictional explorations of Leadville during the Silver Rush period:

"... it seems to me that a man cannot help becoming like the country out here."

and

"A murderer is safer in Leadville than a Horsethief."

Taking the latter quote first ... I figure that since murder didn't rate as high on the scale of importance as thievin' a horse, my protagonist, Inez Stannert, has a fair bit of latitude in investigating matters of "life and death." Provided the death doesn't involve a horse.

As to the first quote, I just love exploring how individuals responded to and became like "the country," as George puts it. To me, "country" includes not just the extreme physical conditions, but also the extreme "social climate." People came to get rich, to escape the past, to reinvent themselves, to save souls, to raise families, to make a living, and so on. Wonder what G.E. would've thought had he known that, 130 years after he penned his personal missives, someone completely unrelated to him would take creative inspiration from his observations and his words ...

The ARC of LEADEN SKIES is IN!

What else is there to say?? Holding the ARC (Advanced Readers Copy, otherwise known as an uncorrected proof) in my hands makes this all real. The story and characters I've dreamt about and sweated over are no longer just bits in my mind or files in the computer, but captured in a bound copy for others to read.

I don't know if folks who have umpty-ump books under their belts get the same jolt as I do on receiving their ARCs, but it's a funny feeling. A combination of "wow!" and "last chance!" as this is my last chance to make corrections and teeny changes.

Time to "clear the decks" as much as possible at home and work so I can give it the eyeball. Alas, I was too late to get my Author's Note included in the ARC, but at least it'll make it into the final book itself. And, the ARC has Michael Greer's lovely map of Leadville and drawing of the Silver Queen Saloon!

The Ted Kierscey Collection

If you love Colorado history and old photographs (which I do), the Ted Kierscey Collection is something to behold. They have a nice capsule history of Leadville, and some great photographs. While I was writing Iron Ties, I turned to this site frequently for a look-see at what the Denver & Rio Grande was up to in 1880 around Leadville. I'd love to show the images here, but don't want to run afoul of copyright issues. So, here are the links instead, along with some of the things that draw me to the images:

• Miners at the Carbonate Mine (1881) — What fascinates me: the faces and the clothing.
• Blacksmith shop (1880) — What fascinates me: same as above, and the building and signage (are the words painted on canvas or . . . ?).
• Park City up Stray Horse Gulch - 2 miles east of Leadville (1880) — What fascinates me: The trees (they weren't all cut down!), the "street" (pretty much an ankle twister . . . imagine what it was like when it rained), the buildings (false fronts and all). I'll have to research "Park City" someday, and find out more about it.

Anyone else out there like to scrutinize photographs for writerly inspiration and research? If you have some favorite sites, let us know.

Absolutely Marvelous Map

This map of Leadville, 1880, was created by Michael Greer, Greer Studios, for my Silver Rush series. Isn't it just the coolest thing?? I tried to make it larger in this post, but don't have the technical knowhow. Anyway, I love this map, and am scheming various ways to put it to use. My hope is, it could be included in Leaden Skies. Dani suggested bookplates, which I think is an absolutely nifty idea.

Anyone else think of things I could do with this? Maybe placemats to give away. Or put it on bookmarks. Or postcards. Or . . .