Old West Gunmen

[Gibson]

:veryconfu

I asked Mooseman and he sent a kind response. I am unsure where this fits, if anywhere. I have a sticky at rugerforum but also wanted to post them here as it seems some folk here might find these of interest. I am posting in here first because it's where I post the most. I realize it really doesn't fit at all. Please move to proper place, unless it's "Our Town". If there is no place or interest then feel free to delete. I will, in no way, be offended and I perfectly understand.

Here goes:

Commodore Perry Owens was the real deal, just as the others we have been discussing are. By now all know what I mean by "the real deal". He was a legitimate gunman before he arrived in Holbrook, Arizona in 1887. Clearly he had killed men before, quite likely one was Mart Blevins, a local rustler and relative to the men that are our antagonists in the coming episode. Owens claimed to have killed more than a dozen men in his career. Possible. He had killed a rustler in 1883, for an example.

Commodore Perry Owens both looked and acted the part. "He wore a fringed buckskin jacket, silver-studded leather chaps, and a wide brimmed felt hat" as well as long flowing hair. He was always wearing either a long barreled revolver or a pair of shorter barreled six-shooters. Know to lethal with either hand. His early career is certainly notable and can be looked into but we want to focus on one incident that to my mind demonstrates EXACTLY what kind of a lawman Mr. Owens was. It occurred on September 4, 1887 at shortly after 4pm.

At this time, the Pleasant Valley war was in progress. It involved the Grahams and Tewksbury families and allies. Charlie Blevins and Andy Cooper allied with the Graham family. These brothers are the key players in our little story; along with the other cattle rustling Blevins men. Both were no good. They were well established rustlers and Cooper was suspected of murdering three Navajo Indians.

On November 4, 1886 Commodore Perry Owens won the sheriff's race by a count of 500 to 409 over J. Hubbell. "Owens moved into the Barth Hotel in Saint Johns and started as Apache County sheriff in January 1887."

The stage is set. I know of no better way to begin this than with a quote from one of Owens' deputies. ""Commodore Owens had a great reputation as a brave man and many wonderful things were promised and expected after he was in the sheriff's office. Lawlessness was everywhere."

Owens had tried to remain neutral in the "war". However, he had a warrant for the arrest of Andy Cooper for rustling. He had had this for some length of time but had claimed that he had not seen him. However, three things drew his focus finer. Andy Cooper had been bragging about the killing of John Tewksbury and William Jacobs, He had been given an ultimatum by the county board of commissioners, and he had been given an exact location for Cooper, namely at his mother's home with the entire Blevins crew. I doubt that Cooper boasting that no sheriff was stupid enough to arrest him went unnoticed, also. Make no mistake! These were not simple bad guys, these were true hard cases that did not shy away from killing.

Into this rode our wide brimmed hat wearing, buckskin fringed jacket and silver-studded chaps clad, six-gun toting, Winchester armed sheriff. Alone. He 'parked' his horse at Brown and Kinder's Livery Stable and walked resolutely down the street the clapboard shack of Mother Blevins. Must have been a sight to see! A solitary figure striding down the street in Holbrook- home of the "Bucket of Blood" saloon. Here is what Commodore Perry Owens claims took place, these are his own words.

Commodore Perry Owens testimony at the Inquest:


. . . I went and got my Winchester and went down to arrest Cooper. Before I got there, I saw someone looking out at the door. When I got close to the house, they shut the door. I stepped up on the porch, looked through the window and also looked in the room to my left. I seen Cooper and his brother (John) and others in that room. I called to Cooper to come out. Cooper took out his pistol and also his brother took out his pistol. Then Cooper went from that room into the east room. His brother came to the door on my left, took the door knob in his hand and held the door open a little. Cooper came to the door facing me from the east room. Cooper held this door partly open with his head out. I says, "Cooper I want you." Cooper says, "What do you want with me?" I says, "I have a warrant for you." Cooper says, "What warrant?" I told him the same warrant that I spoke to him about some time ago that I left in Taylor, for horse stealing. Cooper says, "Wait." I says, "Cooper, no wait." Cooper says, "I won't go." I shot him. This brother of his to my left behind me jerked open the door and shot at me, missing me and shot the horse which was standing aside and a little behind me. I whirled my gun and shot at him, and then ran out in the street where I could see all parts of the house. I could see Cooper through the window on his elbow with his head towards the window. He disappeared to the right of the window. I fired through the house expecting to hit him between the shoulders. I stopped a few moments. Some man (Mose Roberts) jumped out of the house on the northeast corner out of a door or window, I can't say, with a six shooter in his right hand and his hat off. There was a wagon or buckboard between he and I. I jumped to one side of the wagon and fired at him. Did not see him any more. I stood there a few moments when there was a boy (Sam Houston Blevins) jumped out of the front of the house with a six shooter in his hands. I shot him. I stayed a few moments longer. I see no other man so I left the house. When passing by the house I see no one but somebody's feet and legs sticking out the door. I then left and came on up town.

Stay tuned for a detailed version of the story, however, I doubt not a word Owens related.

Three dead, one terribly wounded, and worst of all, a dead horse. This took but a single minute.

TBC, at the start of his walk down the street.

http://www.wildwestland.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/commodore_perry_owens_sixtyseconds_1.jpg

A Winchester Model 1873 that once belonged to Owens:

http://www.cheekwood.org/media/Image/Exhibitions/BBHC/Masterwork%2036.jpg

[Gibson]

As was stated in the prior post Owens rode to the livery stable and stabled his sorrel. He dismounted and was cleaning his six-shooter. A local drug store owner walks in carrying a shotgun in the crook of his right arm. He asked Owens if needed any help. His reply was: "I don't want anyone hurt in this matter, they've been telling all around the country that I was afraid to serve these Cooper warrants, and a lot of other stuff. I'll show them that I'm not afraid and take him single-handed or die a-trying. You just sit back and watch me do it, that's all I ask."

A short time later, John Blevins comes in and gets Cooper's horse. After this Owens is informed of what had occurred and realizes Cooper is going to be leaving. He reassembles his six-gun and grabs up his Winchester 45-60 and begins his short walk to the Blevins' house.

Cooper gives the alarm after seeing him coming. Nothing deters Owens. He walks right up onto the porch. He is surveying the situation. He sees men inside the with "shootin' irons" in hand. He knocks and Cooper comes to the front door while John Blevin goes to the door of the west front room. Sheriff Owens informs Cooper that he has an arrest warrant and Cooper asks for what. Owens replies horse stealing. Cooper knows all this in advance and then continues to stall by asking for time to think. Owens says, no. "Come, right away." Cooper made some sort of refusal and tried to close the door but Owens gets a boot in the small opening and opened up with the big Winchester. He snap shot from hip level THROUGH the door! ". . . the ball from his Winchester striking Cooper in the center of abdomen, passing through the bowels and coming out near the spine." This at a man he cannot see. One down.

Owens quickly backed up while working his lever action rifle and then spots Blevins pushing his sixgun through a crack in the west door. Blevins fires at Owens and narrowly misses him but hits Cooper's saddle horse, who breaks free but stumbles and dies. Owens never hesitates and blasts him through the door, in the right shoulder. The bullet had gone through the door, hit and exited Blevins, and went into the room partition wall. Another snap shot from the hip. Two shots, two down.

Sheriff Owens' next move, according to the "Apache County Critic" was:

"At this time, the Sheriff retreated diagonally back, to the corner of Armbruster's blacksmith shop. The Sheriff thinking Cooper was not yet dead, fired the third shot. . ."

This shot nails Cooper in the right hip. Three shots three hits from the Winchester 45-60. To expand on the above quote, it seems Owens heard some small noise and instantly cast a glance toward one of the windows to see a sixshooter poking through, again with cat like reflexes sends a large projectile racing through the boarding of the house and into Cooper's right hip. So far all three shots have been barrier blind and snap shots from a rifle. Resulting in three solid hits.

Enter another bad guy. . . Mose B. Roberts, a friend of the outlaws who had been sitting at a table writing a letter when this got underway, now grabs a sixshooter and heads for a side window. He bursts through the window but not fast enough and no real surprise to a man like Owens, who from what I can make of it was athletic quick and cold. He was 35 years old at this time and evidently possessed the reflexes of an Olympic athlete! You just CANNOT make this stuff up.

So Roberts goes through a side window (eastern side of house) just after Owens re-racks his rifle. The lawman detects him and bolts to the side of the house and again fires and the ball entering at his shoulder at chest level and tearing though his lung and carrying collarbone with it as it buried into the wheel of the wagon that Owens mentions in his testimony. Robert staggers back into the house and collapses into a heap of blood and carnage. Four shots four direct hits.

Now Owens slowly back away about twenty feet to give him coverage of the whole area. He pulls cartridges from his belt and replaces the used rounds. You see, he has no idea how many more men he'll have to face from the house as he does not know who else is there. After a few seconds he detects a commotion, he hears a woman screaming and quick as a flash 15 year old Sam Houston Blevins bursts through the door with his brother Andy Cooper's pearl handled Colt's .45 and his mother trying to stop him. Commodore does the only thing he can, he sends the kid to his eternal reward with a single round from his rifle. His fifth shot. Owens again returned to his keen fully sentient, fully aware state. He surveyed everything for some time and then when it was clearly over, "Sheriff Owens coolly threw his rifle across his left arm and calmly walked past, at a distance of twenty-five feet, going to Brown and Kinder's livery stable where he had left his saddle horse."

Five shots. Three dead. One terribly wounded. One of the dead hit twice.

And that my friends is an honest account of the actions ofSheriff Commodore Perry Owens on Sunday September 4, 1887.

(I suspect the time for the overall incident was closer to a couple of minutes or so, but a minor point)

Brave? Cool under pressure? More intense than any Hollywood movie character? You make the call, amigos. My call is Owens was all of those things and more. :)
http://www.ancientfaces.com/images/photos/watermark/3/9/commodore-perry-owens-393795.jpg

http://www.roundvalleyaz.com/images1/owens1.jpg

http://www.wildwestland.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/commodore_perry_owens_sixtyseconds_2.jpg

http://www.wildwestland.co.uk/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/commodore_perry_owens_sixtyseconds_3.jpg

[ShooterAZ]

Very interesting history there for sure. There is a ghost town just outside of Flagstaff that has some equally interesting history. "Canyon Diablo", not many people have even heard of it. It was as wild and woolly as it gets. Here is a link... http://www.ghosttowns.com/states/az/canyondiablo.html

[runfiverun]

i recall reading a book of these incidents sometime back [had to be in the 70's]
it was probably somewhat imbellished [expanded to fill pages] but followed the story line given above right well.
the book had some pre fight story,and some short post fight story, like all good westerns.

[Gibson]

i recall reading a book of these incidents sometime back [had to be in the 70's]
it was probably somewhat imbellished [expanded to fill pages] but followed the story line given above right well.
the book had some pre fight story,and some short post fight story, like all good westerns.

The sketch is as accurate as I could make it. It's not some convoluted fairy tale.

Owens was as tough as nails. From what I can glean his testimony before the Inquest comports very much with witnesses and newspaper accounts.

But indeed all is open to question

[gray wolf]

Thank you for that, I also found it to be of great interest.
I love the old west and all the history.

GW

[Gibson]

Thank you for that, I also found it to be of great interest.
I love the old west and all the history.

GW


Glad to oblige.

This quote from Sheriff Owens, kind of speaks to a lone lawman confronting a house with multiple badmen

"I told him the same warrant that I spoke to him about some time ago that I left in Taylor, for horse stealing. Cooper says, "Wait." I says, "Cooper, no wait." Cooper says, "I won't go." I shot him."

[Gibson]

The Dark Angel. . .

Next up:

The Dark Angel:

I have to admit JWH and Jesse James are the two that intrigue me the most. I must be nuts to find admirable characteristics in these two but all up they strike me as truly tough hombres.

We will examine Hardin's shooting of Deputy Sheriff Charles Webb.

http://symonsez.files.wordpress.com/2010/02/hardinfamous.gif


Deputy Webb's marker:

http://image1.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2010/130/8385579_127361937907.jpg

He reputedly killed Charles Webb with this revolver:

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/Apr-2012/apr12_hardins_deadly_tools_slideshow/deputy_sheriff_killed.jpg

Another Hardin revolver from 1895, B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L:

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/Apr-2012/apr12_hardins_deadly_tools_slideshow/41_colt_thunderer.jpg

[Gibson]

"In his El Paso years, despite aging and being away from guns for nearly two decades in prison, Hardin was still lightning fast. One eyewitness, who saw Hardin in action in 1895, said, “Hardin was an awful quick man. I was in Mexico one night with him when a policeman started to arrest Hardin for carrying a gun. The policeman made a break for his gun, but he didn’t have time to pull it. Hardin hit the man in the face and then, pulling his gun, told the Greaser to get out of town, at the same time informing him who he was. The Mexican never did come back, and he hasn’t stopped running yet, I bet.'”

". . . quicker than a frog could eat a fly"

Leon Metz, Hardin's biographer of note stated that one can safely put Hardin's body count at 20 with some evidence for 10 more.

"You have to wonder about a man who killed so massively, so methodically and so remorselessly.

You have to think of the boy, John Wesley Hardin, being raised in a staunch religious tradition, steeped in Christian virtues, who became a sort of wrathful Old Testament figure, a dark angel slaying enemies real and perceived.

You have to wonder about the wicked brew of ideas and ideals that bathed and shaped the mind of the boy Hardin. He had a fierce fire and brimstone religiosity, a rigid code of family loyalty and that indelible sense of honor that was part and parcel of the lives of Southerners, rich and poor.

And you have to mix the brew with the awful period of Hardin’s youth, when the South lay beaten down, praying for hate and praying for vengeance.

– Leon Metz, John Wesley Hardin: Dark Angel of Texas"

[Gibson]

Adding to the gun's picture, above:

"One of Hardin’s known six-guns is a Smith & Wesson Model 3 Russian First Model, in .44 Russian chambering, which he used to kill Deputy Sheriff Charles Webb in Comanche, Texas, on May 26, 1874. This shooting brought about Hardin’s eventual capture and jailing. It is perhaps the only documented metallic cartridge six-gun from Hardin’s pre-prison era of lawlessness. "

And:

"We can be sure that by 1874 he’d converted from carrying percussion models to the latest in American made cartridge revolvers– as it was on Hardin's birthday in May of that year that he used an ivory handled "Russian” model Smith & Wesson .44 (serial number #25274) to take Sheriff Charley [Charlie] Webb’s life."

John Wesley Hardin's Full Account (typos abound in this script but are easily read through, for anyone who wants to read the words of an actual character):

"The 26th of May was my birth day. About the 5th, Jim
Taylor and I went with my brother and the sheriff's party
some twenty miles into Brown county to get some cattle that
belonged to my brother. The cattle were in possession of
the Gouldstones and we got them and started back without
any trouble. Night overtaking us, we stopped at Mrs.
Waldrup's to pen our cattle. At the supper table Mrs.
Waldrup told us how one Charles Webb, a deputy sheriff of
Brown county, had come to her house and arrested Jim Buck
Waldrup and had cursed and abused her. She had told him
that no gentleman would curse a woman. Of course we all
agreed with her. This is the first time I had ever heard of
Charles Webb. There were present that night at the sup-
per table Bill Cunningham, Bud and Tom Dixon, Jim and
Ham Anderson, Aleck Barrickman, Jim Taylor and Jim
Milligan (deputy sheriffs), Joe Hardin, Jim Taylor and my-
self. We were all first cousins to each other except Jim
Taylor. There is no doubt but that we all sympathized with
Mrs. Waldrup, who had been so abused by Charles Webb.
On my trial afterwards for the killing of Webb the State
relied on a conspiracy being formed at the supper table to
kill Webb, and they used Cunningham to prove it, but they
utterly failed, or else they would have broken my neck or
found me guilty of murder in the first degree. The evidence
that Cunningham gave on my trial was that my brother Joe
(who was not indicted with me) had said: ^'We will get
away with him at the proper time." That statement was an
absolute lie. Cunningham was supposed to be our friend,
but at my trial was looked upon as one of my brother's mur-
derers and my enemy. But to return to my story.

We drove the cattle home next morning to Comanche and
from that until the 26th but one more incident worthy of
note occurred.

Henry Ware was a bully from Canada, and from some cause
or other he disliked my brother Joe. He came to the herd
one day (Jim Taylor told me this) and claimed a cow and
my brother told him he could not get it. Ware persisted and
put his hand to his Winchester, when my brother ordered
him out of the herd at the point of a six-shooter, an order
which, the Hon. Henry Ware promptly obeyed, and he did
not get his cow.

The 26th of May saw n big crowd at the races, the news of
which had been published all over the country. "Eondo"
ran first and won easily. "Shiloh" came next and had a
walk o/er. Next came "Dock," which was a close race, but
he won by six feet. So I and my friends won everything in
sight. I won about $3000 in cash, fifty head of cattle, a
wagon or two and fifteen head of saddle horses. I set more
than one man afoot and then loaned them the horses to ride
home on.

I had heard that morning that Charles Webb, the deputy
sheriff from Brown county, had come over to Comanche with
fifteen men to kill me and capture Jim Taylor for the re-
ward. I also heard that he had said that John Karnes, the
sheriff of Comanche, was no man or sheriff because he allow-
ed a set of murderers to stay around him, headed by the no-
torious John Wesley Harin, and as he (Karnes) would not
attend to his business, he would do it for him. I knew that
Webb had arrested a whole cow camp a short time before and
had treated a man whom he called John Wesley Hardin most
cruelly, telling him he was afraid of his own name and job-
bed him in the side with his gun, knowing positively that
1 was not in the country at that time. If I had been there
I would have taught him a lesson sooner.

He did not make any breaks at the race tracks, but when
we all came back to town he swore time and time again that
he would kill me and capture Jim Taylor, and that this
would be done before the sun went down. When I was told
this I laughed and said I hoped he would put it off till dark
or altogether.

We were all going from bar to bar, trying to spend some
of the money we had won. I remember in one saloon 1
threw a handful of $20 gold pieces on the counter and called
for the drinks. Some of my friends picked them up and
thought I was drinking too freely and told me if any scrap
came up I would not be able to protect myself. I assured
them I was all right, but at last thought I had better go home
to avoid any possible trouble.

I got Jeff Hardin, my little brother, to go to my brother
Joe's stable and get his horse and buggy to drive out to my
father's, who lived about two miles northwest from town. I
bought such supplies as were needed at home and told Jeff
to put them in the buggy and then to come up to Jack
Wright's saloon on the corner, where Jim Taylor and my-
self would drive out to my father's.

We invited the whole crowd up to Jack Wright's to take a
last drink. Frank Wilson, a deputy sheriff under Karnes,
came up and locked arms with me just as I was going to
drink and said:

"John, I want to see you."

I said all right.

This saloon was situated on the northwest corner of the
square, the front facing the square to the east, with a door
in front, and another door to the north near the west end of
the saloon. Frank Wilson and I went out at the north door
and then west for about ten steps, when I told him that was
far enough and stopped on the back street west of the saloon.
Frank said:

"John, the people here have treated you well; now don't
drink any more, but go home and avoid all trouble."

I told him Jeff had gone for the buggy, and I was going as
soon as he came. He says:

"You know it is a violation of the law to carry a pistol."

I knew now that he was tryng to pump me, so I told him
my pistol was behind the bar and threw open my coat to
show him. But he did not know I had a good one under
my vest. I looked to the south and saw a man, a stranger to
me, with two six-shooters on coming towards us. I said to
Frank:

"Let's go back to the saloon. I want to pay my bill and
then go home."

We went into the saloon and we were stopped by Jim Tay-
lor who said:

"Wes, you have drank enough; let us go home; here is Jeff
with the buggy."

I said: "Let us go in and get a cigar, then we will go
home."

About this time Daves Karnes remarked:

"Here comes that damned Brown county sheriff."

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/Apr-2012/apr12_hardins_deadly_tools_slideshow/john_wesley_hardin_memorabilia.jpg

I turned around and faced the man whom I had seen com-
ing up the street. He had on two six-shooters and was in
about fifteen steps from me, advancing. He stopped when
he got to within iive steps of me, then stopped and scrutiniz-
ed me closely, with his hand behind him. I asked him:
"Have you any papers for my arrest?^'
He said: "I don't know you/'
I said: "My name is John Wesley Hardin/'
He said: "Now I know you, but have no papers for your
arrest."

"Well/' said I, "I have been informed that the sheriff of
Brown county has said that Sheriff Karnes of this county
was no sheriff or he would not allow me to stay around
Comanche with my murdering pals."

He said: "I am not responsible for what the sheriff of
Brown county says. I am only a deputy."

So Dave Karnes spoke up and said: "Men, there can be
no difference between you about John Karnes," and said:
"Mr. Webb, let me introduce you to Mr. Hardin."

I asked him what he had in his hand behind his back and
he showed a cigar. I said:

"Mr. Webb, we were Just going to take a drink or a cigar;
won't you join us?"

He replied, "certainly." As I turned around to go in the
north door, I heard some one say, "Look out. Jack." It was
Bud Dixon, and as I turned around I saw Charles Webb
drawing his pistol. He was in the act of presenting it when
I jumped to one side, drew my pistol and fired.

In the meantime Webb had fired, hitting me in the left
side, cutting the length of it, inflicting an ugly and painful
wound. My aim was good and a bullet hole in the left cheek
did the work. He fell against the wall and as he fell he fired
a second shot, which went into the air.

In the meantime, my friends, Jim Taylor and Bud Dixon,
seeing that Webb had taken the drop on me and had shot
me, pulled their pistols and fired on him as he was falling,
not knowing that I had killed him. Each shot hit him in the
side and breast.

At my first attempt to shoot, Frank Wilson started to
draw his pistol, but as soon as I had fired on Webb and before
Wilson had time to draw, I covered him and told him to
hold up his hands, which he did.

Several men were standing at the east end of the building
next to the public square. When the shooting commenced
they started to rush over to the saloon, but soon retreated.

I afterwards learned the plan was for Charles Webb to as-
sassinate me and then for the crowd to rush up and with
Frank Wilson's help to rush in and overpower Jim Taylor,
thus getting the reward. They expected my relatives and
friends to stand still while they did their bloody work. They
believed they could not arrest Taylor without killing me,
hence they attacked me.

The crowd outside ran back, as I stated above, and cried
out:

"Hardin has killed Charley Webb; let us hang him."

The sheriff of the county, John Karnes, who was my friend
came in with a shot gun and asked, "Who did this work?"

I told him I had done it, and would surrender to him if
he would protect me from the mob. I handed him my pistol
to show my good faith.

About ten men ran around the east comer and commenced
firing on us and Jim Taylor. Bud Dixon and Aleck Barrick-
man drew their pistols and started to fire, when they ran back
behind the corner. They were reinforced and charged again.
John Karnes met them at the door and demanded that they
disperse. They overpowered and disarmed him of his gun
and were trying to get my pistol away from him. I told niy
friends that there was no protection for us there, and told
Jim Taylor to come with me and the other two to go back
west. So Jim and I ran across the street to some horses that
were hitched near by and as I ran I pulled my knife out of
my pocket and cut the hitching ropes.

I now saw that my wife and sister Mat were in the crowd
crying and looking down towards my brother's law office.
I saw my father and brother Joe coming toward the scene
with shot guns.

I concluded the best thing to do to avoid bloodshed was
to get out of town. Jim Taylor wanted to charge the mob,
but I said: "For God's sake, don't do that; you may hit tiie
wrong one." (He told me afterwards he wanted to kill Hen-
ry Ware.) I caught his horse and kept him from shooting.
We turned and went running out of town, the mob firing on
us and the sheriff's party trjdng to protect us.

Dixon and Anderson, seeing we were safely out of town,
got on their horses also and we met again at my father's
where my father and brother joined us with the sheriff.

I was willing to surrender, but the sheriff said he could
not protect me; that the mob was too strong and Charley
Webb had been their leader. He advised me to stay around
until the excitement died down and then come in and sur-
render.

So I went to some mountains about four miles off and next
day my brother and some friends came out to see me and my
party and by them I sent back the horses we had gotten out
of town on and two pistols we had found in the saddle
pockets.

At that time there were some companies of rangers there
who were organized to keep the peace and protect the frontier
from Indians. They took the place of the infamous State po-
lice. Bill Waller was their captain, and he wished to make
himself famous at once. The sheriff told him he could and
would arrest me whenever he was sure he could protect me.

He tried to get Waller to assist him in doing this, but Wal-
ler was really the captain of a "vigilant" band and would not
do it. Even my father and brother told Waller that if he
would himself guarantee me protection I would come in and
surrender. Waller could guarantee nothing, but persisted
m hunting me with his mob, composed of the enemies of all
law and order. He aroused the whole country and had about
500 men scouting for me, whose avowed purpose was to hang
me. Waller arrested my father and Barrickman's family and
took them to Comanche to my brother's, where he put them
under guard under the pretense of keeping them from giv-
ing me any information. They then arrested my brother,
with Tom and Bud Dixon and placed them in the court house
under guard. They also arrested Dr. Brosius, who had come
to tell us that our herd was at Hamilton. In fact, there were
squads of from 50 to 100 in each party hunting for me all
over the country and instead of the excitement d3ring out,
it grew greater all the time. Once, two scouting parties met
and fired upon each other, keeping it up for two hours until
each drew off for reinforcements.

They had now cut me off from all communication with, my
relatives and friends and were "brushing" the country for
me."

From the El Paso Saddlery Collection- "This well-used 1851 Navy Colt and accompanying cut-down military holster came with a handwritten letter from Hardin’s cousin Joe Clements. Joe wrote to his daughter, Amanda, that Hardin gave him the .36 caliber six-gun after Joe had broken up a fight in Gonzales, Texas."

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/Apr-2012/apr12_hardins_deadly_tools_slideshow/1851_navy_colt_cut_down_military_holster.jpg

Cool as the other side of the pillow, eh? ;)

[Gibson]

"Joe" Hardin, Wes' brother, lynched by the good citizens of Comanche County, who had presented Joe with the following, to show their great appreciation for him. . . just four years before their necktie party. Go figure. . .

[Sorry but the images have been removed from their site. The revolvers were magnificently engraved.]

[Gibson]

This gun battle came about over cattle shenanigans. Joe Hardin, John Wesley's older brother was a rather important man in Comanche County Texas. Being a postmaster, a practicing attorney, and a mason. Joe had become involved in what was an extremely convoluted cattle deal. He was in charge of the paper and had buried what occured in rather deeply. It seems clear that honest cattlemen were being flim-flamed. Joe had even involved his wife, Allie, at least, on paper.

Joe Hardin had gained control but not ownership of a large lot of cattle.

Sixteen angry cattlemen went to Brown County Sheriff J.H. Gideon and demanded action be taken. (The county was neighboring Comanche County.) The sheriff immediately assigned ex-Texas Ranger and now deputy sheriff, Charles (Charlie) Webb to the case. Webb was a tough guy and had a solid reputation as a Ranger.

The first encounter with Joe Hardin for Charles Webb occurred in April of 1874. A Mexican rancher had been lynched in Brown County and Joe, along with Jim Taylor, Alex Barekman, as well as Tom and Bud Dixon were present when Deputy Webb came over from Brownwood to investigate. Hardin and his friend unleashed a tirade of curses and insults and told him to get gone and to never show his face in Comanche County. "They roundly cursed the deputy. . . and warned him to stay out of Comanche County."

Enter the Dark Angel. . . He rose into Comanche county on or near May 21 and went straight to the Sheriff and asked for some help in taking possession of the cattle that Joe had dominion over. (Wes being prior informed by Joe that the cattle were in dispute. But intended to take possession of them and drive them to be sold.) The sheriff sent Deputy Millican and Deputy Cunningham with Wes.

The group with the addition of Joe Hardin went to get the cattle and were halted by Henry Ware (in the Hardin manuscript quoted above he is refereed to as a "bully from Canada") as soon as he opened his moth, Joe yanked a sixgun and put the Canadian bully (surely a contradiction in terms) to route. Kind of like the old saying, he may not be a chickensh-t but he sure showed hen house ways. . . off to the Brown County sheriff's office. The Hardins left with the cattle.

Charles Webb had no clue where the Brown County cattle had been hidden but he knew two residents that were likely involved in the scheme, and indeed they were in on the overall scheme, their names were James Beard and Jim Buck Waldrip. The two men were lodged in the Brown County jail but were shortly transferred to a neighboring county as the cattlemen of Brown County were threatening to lynch them.

Hardin and cohorts went to the Waldrip Ranch and were grabbing a supper and lodging when Mrs. Waldrip lamented about her son's arrest and the terrible cursing and abuse she had received from Deputy Webb.The Hardin gang agreed, it was indeed horrible.

The last weekend in May was celebrated with a big horse race in Comanche. Hardin, an expert in horseflesh and an avowed gambler won big. His horses actually swept the top three spots. He won cash,and prizes (50 head of cattle and 3K USD) and even people's riding stock. Flush with the 3,000 dollar cash prize and celebrating his birthday, Hardin threw $20 gold pieces around like tokens. He went from one bar to the next. . .

To boil the story down, Hardin was definitely plastered. Sheriff Carnes and his deputy tried to get Hardin to go home and sober up. Hardin told him he was not packing in the bar (a prohibited thing) and that his gun was behind the bar. He opened his coat. But, of course Hardin NEVER was unarmed and indeed had a hideout tucked into his waistband. Nevertheless, the sheriff was insistent but to no avail. Carnes came up with a plan to separate Hardin and his friend Jim Taylor who was also drunk- however, even he agreed Hardin was becoming dangerous- and place both under arrest. So, the deputy and the sheriff went about putting their plan into action when the sheriff discovered that his revolver wasn't functioning correctly and immediately set out to have a smith put it in order. Unfortunate for Charles Webb.

Odd but true, The sheriff's brother actually alerted Wes that Webb was coming down the street, in a guttural intonation he said "Here comes that damned Brown County sheriff."

Webb was pacing down the street near the front of the Jack Wright's saloon where Hardin and his group were. They had come outside to check Webb's oil pressure. Webb was carrying a pair of sixshooters and kept his hands behind his back. Strange. He paused 15 feet from Wes. Which was immediately interpreted by Wes as provocation and he barked loudly and provocatively, "Have you any papers for my arrest?" Webb acted as if he had no idea who he was and in a quiet tone asked for his name. "My name is John Wesley Hardin", was the reply he received. Webb, still playing along, then says, "Now I know you, but have no papers for your arrest." Hardin went on to tell him that the Brown County sheriff had insulted the Comanche County sheriff by stating that he was no sheriff if he allowed the likes of Wes and his pals to hang around Comanche. Webb, merely replied that he was not responsible for what the sheriff said and that he was only a deputy. Uh-huh.

Wes was somewhat disarmed by Webb, after he asked a final question as to what he had behind his back. He was shown a cigar. He now felt a bit more comfortable and invited Charles Webb into the saloon for a smoke and a drink. Webb accepted.

Evidently Webb put his plan into action and as Wes was turning, he attempted to draw a sixshooter. Bud Dixon instantly yelled and Hardin spun like a pit viper strikes, both men fired. Hardin, drunk and all put a .44 ball into Webb's face. Hardin was hit in the left hip near his belt line. As Webb was falling his sixgun barked once more, an errant round. It seems the others rushed over to him and pumped a few rounds into a dead man.

Webb was a decent guy and a good lawmen but had run afoul of a Texas pit viper known as Wes. According to Metz, Webb was the 32nd notch on Hardin's belt. Metz later says that this might be a slightly exaggerated number. At this late date there is no way to know for certain, my guess is it put him over 20. . .

The Dark Angel, indeed.

The following is an alternative account from the web (I followed the version of Hardin and Metz):

"In any case, Webb approached and John confronted him. He asked Webb if he had the papers to arrest him. Webb denied this. There was an exchange back and forth with John being verbally aggressive while Webb being rather soft and calm. A friend of Webb, seeing what was about to happen, called over to Webb since they were to eat dinner together. John held Webb and said something to the effect of, “Your not just going to leave me here are you?”

The next bit of dialogue has Webb saying that he was "not afraid" of John. It seems that some dialogue is missing in the accounts here because it seems that John said something accusing Webb of being a coward. At least that is what I get out of his response of not being afraid.

At this point, both John and Webb both go for their guns. Some say that Webb drew first, but both men seem to fire at about the same time. Webb grazes John's side, but John hits Webb in the left cheek. Jim Taylor and Bud Dixon (John's cousin) start firing their guns to finishing the job. "

A funny ending. . . The following was printed in Comanche, Texas in the Comanche Chief on May 22, 1879. The government wants its guns back. TWO YEARS after Hardin has been put into the hoosgaw! Ironic, ain't it. . .

“All parties having guns in their possessions that were issued to the Comanche Guards during the Hardin troubles are requested to bring them in and deposit them with Wm. Carroll or the state authorities will take steps to punish all who refuse to deliver up the guns.”–J.A. Wright, J.D. Stephens

Wes Hardin:

http://www.concordiacemetery.org/Hardin_Hi_Res.jpg

Wes Hardin:

http://freepages.history.rootsweb.ancestry.com/~bowen/images/johnwesleyhardin3.jpg

Joseph Gipson Hardin:

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos/2011/224/39608086_131329000148.jpg

[Gibson]

Let's see if this guy fits the "desperate" category. Gonna hold off on Tom Horn.

http://www.historylink.org/db_images/tracy23a.JPG

Who left us as this guy, note revolver in his hand and levergun at his side:

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M3XRqIn0uUw/Rz0Kt5kmSjI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PhhOUX5p8_c/s1600/Harry+Tracy%27s+body.jpg

Harry Tracy's last stand.

[Gibson]

According to a writer for the Seattle Times in the July 3, 1903 edition, "In all the criminal lore of the country there is no record equal to that of Harry Tracy for cold-blooded nerve, desperation, and thirst for crime. Jesse James, compared with Tracy, is a Sunday school teacher." Uh-huh. A dubious contention but make no mistake Tracy was a desperate man, whose criminal career went back to Utah and Colorado, in the middle and late 1890s, he even seems to have connected to "Flat Nose" George Curry of Wild Bunch fame. He entered the prison with at least three murders to his record. . .

THE OREGON STATE PENITENTIARY

"In 1866, the Portland site was abandoned and the inmates were moved into temporary wooden housing at the Salem site in order to help with its construction. The new brick structure resembled a fortress, although the fourteen-foot-high wall surrounding the perimeter did little to prevent escapes in the late 1800s and early 1900s."

So we have cohorts David Merrill and Harry Tracy imprisoned at the Oregon State Penitentiary in 1899. Doing 13 and 20 years, respectively. The inmates spend three years scheming and planning an escape. And on June 9, 1902 they put their plan into action. At 7am the prisoners who worked in the prison's foundry were arrived there under guard. As they entered the molding room Tracy and Merrill grabbed 30-30 Winchester rifles. How they got there is enigmatic. My notion is that they were planted in the room by some inside connection. I just cannot envision convicts walking to their work while concealing Winchester 30-30s. It defies logic. Newspaper accounts of the day imply that they were either thrown over the fence of the stockade the night before by excursionist sympathizers or were planted by them inside the foundry.

Tracy instantly levels his rifle on guard Ferrell. But seemingly out of nowhere a lifer, Ingram attempts to disarm Tracy. A rifle round from Merrill hits Ingram and Tracy instantly dispatches Ferrell. The guard hits the ground stone dead. Ingram also expires, shortly. Tracy and Merrill seize a ladder and scale the wall. As they clear it, Tracy turns ends the life of guard Jones with two barks from his Winchester.

Now they are engaged by guard Tiffany from the prison fence, he is brought down by rifle fire from the escapees. He continues to fire a few more rounds but is then empty. Tracy and Merrill grab the guard and employ him as a human shield as they sprint for the distant timber. They know if they can make the timber that they will no longer be targets for the guards inside. The men reach the timber and safety. However, Tracy and Merrill stop and intentionally execute the guard. Lastly, a guard sent up to replace the human shield, Tiffany, namely, Duncan Ross was shot by one of the escapees, more than likely Tracy, in the forehead. A long range shot that he survived. The men were already safely in the timber and Ross was not even armed but such was the blood lust of Tracy. . . They were reported four miles west of Salem later in the day. "
Marion County Sheriff Frank W. Durbin and Sheriff-elect Benjamin B. Colbath formed a posse to chase down the escaped convicts and a reward of $1,000 was immediately issued for the capture -- dead or alive -- of Harry Tracy and David Merrill."

So, Tracy and Merrill have managed a daring daylight escape from The Oregon State Penitentiary. They killed three guards, one inmate, and shot another guard in the forehead. This took somewhere around 5 minutes. . .

The manhunt is coming up next post. . .

http://www.historylink.org/db_images/tracy2.JPG

A rancher from Brown's Park, Colorado shot down and killed by Harry Tracy in 1898, prior to his above incarceration. He was a part of a posse chasing a man who had murdered a 15 year old boy. The boy was a ranch hand for this victim, namely Valentine Hoy:

http://www.eltiste-kaiser.com/HoyFile/HoyPics/ValentineHoy-0.jpg

[Gibson]

THE TWO MONTH MANHUNT

"In hopes of capturing the escapees before they made it out of Marion County, J.D. Lee, superintendent of the Oregon State Penitentiary raised the reward to $1,500 and then to $3,000 on June 13."

Tracy and Merrill manage to clear Salem and procure civilian clothes and mounts. Evidently they stole two fast mounts from the stable of Felix Laubacher! Thus we now have two convicts, "heavily armed, in citizens' clothing, and mounted on good horses, the convicts were now prepared to make a stubborn fight for liberty. No more dangerous criminal than Tracy, in fact, was ever turned loose upon a community. HE WAS A DEAD SHOT AND DID NOT KNOW WHAT FEAR MEANT. "

Tracy and Merrill began a pattern of hitting farm houses and demanding to be fed and then resting for a spell, all the while being chased by a posse a lawmen with the addition of bloodhounds. Tracy commented later to a captive that the thing he hated most about running was the dogs, this being his second "crashout".

We get an example from "The Deseret News" of June 12, 1902, three days after their escape. . . On that morning the men appeared at the Akers' farm, near Gervais, and demanded breakfast. As her husband was at work, Mrs. Akers cooked them breakfast. Tracy and Merrill sat with their rifles across their knees and ate. Interesting comment from the story is the report from Mrs. Akers that Tracy "appeared wounded in the right arm." The two men left shortly after eating and headed north.

There were close scrapes added to the pattern of farmhouse hold-ups. Now three companies of militia took up the chase, also. Tracy even stopped once to put a rifle round into a pursuer. He made good with his Winchester but it was not a lethal shot. . .

Next was the daring shootout with posse members who had caught up to Tracy and his cohort, Wm. M. Raine put it succinctly: "Tracy had forced a farmer at the muzzle of his revolver to row him and his companion across the Columbia River into Washington. They dined at the house of a farmer named Peedy, whom they tied and gagged before leaving. Sheriff Marsh, of Clarke County, with a very large force, took up the chase with energy. A four-cornered duel took place between the fugitives and two of the posse who came in touch with them, but the convicts again escaped unhurt. For some days after this episode their trail was completely lost. "

Something odd occurred next! Merrill disappeared. Well, sort of. . . from what I can gather, Tracy, either because of a "grudge" or because Merrill had gotten scared, or both, on or about June 28, the men fought a duel (according to Tracy) and Tracy suspecting treachery fired over his shoulder hitting Merrill in the back. He then walked over and finished him off with another round. Indeed a corpse was found with three shots in the back, accounts accept that it was Merrill, although his family claims he ran from Tracy and survived many years. I suspect the corpse was Merrill's. I am certain of it.

Now it's July 2nd and Tracy shows up alone at Olympia and commandeers a boat and had piloted toward Seattle. Along the way he asks to be swung over toward a prison on McNeil's Island to take potshots at guards! After making landing he took his captives with him for a short distance and then in a driving rainstorm released them and took refuge in the underbrush to sleep.

Through rumor and report it was ascertained that Tracy was in Bothell, Washington and the posses came up to search. The men split up and a group supposed that they knew Tracy was hiding behind a burned stump. Here is an account of what followed

"That's exactly where I believe he is," said Raymond. "Let's----"

He never finished the sentence. From behind the stump arose Tracy himself, his rifle at his shoulder. There came a flash, and Anderson, one of the deputies, fell. Still another spit of flame belched from the rifle, and Raymond fell back with a stifled cry. He was quite dead before help reached him. Sefrit took a shot at the desperado with a Colt's revolver, whereupon Tracy wheeled and let drive at him. Sefrit, realizing that he was in an exposed position, fell as if shot. The outlaw fired again at him, then waited watchfully to make sure he had killed his man. A bunch of grass lay between Sefrit's head and Tracy, but the reporter could see the convict crouching behind the stump and knew that the slightest movement meant death. So for some minutes the Times reporter lay there in an agony of suspense, expecting every moment to feel a bullet tearing through his breast. Then Tracy slowly began to back away in the drenching rain. Two more shots rang out, and Jack Williams, who had been coming forward from the rear, fell, desperately wounded."

Tracy made good his escape by stealing a horse from a framer he encountered in his slow retreat from the gunfight. He next ends up at the home of the Van Horn's in Woodland Park. Via a grocery boy who stopped by during Tracy's visit, Mrs. Van Horn smuggled out word of Tracy being there. When he had eaten and gotten new clothes, he went into the yard and was greeted with gunfire! Sheriff Cudihee, Game Warden Neil Rawley and E.E. Breece had set an ambush. Both Rawley and Breece had been warned not to get involved by the above mentioned Sheriff. (Cudihee was a brave man and an outstanding 'mantracker'!)

Well, the good Sheriff Cudihee got himself into place, i.e., behind a stump with a clear view of the cabin. He armed himself with both a Winchester rifle and a revolver. Tracy emerges from the cabin in the company of two other men, Probably Mr. Van Horn and a Mr. Butterworth who was visiting the Van Horns. The sheriff covers the men and readies himself when out of nowhere the two men who accompanied him, Rawley and Breece, joined by J. L. McKnight who had shown up, sprung forward and Breece shouted, "Throw down that gun, Tracy." Those were to be the last words he ever uttered on this earth. In the blink of an eye Tracy wheeler around and killed Breece with single shot. Then he turned on Rawley and dispatched him two rounds. Tracy swore loudly as he again wheeled looking for more victims, seeing none he took to the woods. Sheriff Cudihee got off two rounds but with apparently neither took effect. Game Warden Rawley lay on the ground dying, in a pitiful state, moaning and bleeding savagely, beside him lay Breece "stone cold dead". . . The above was taken from "The Washington Times" of July 20, 1902.

Excitin' ain't it
:lol:

More momentarily. . .

[Baryngyl]

I live in Creston, Washington, the town where Harry Tracy was killed, there is a large sign that tells about it, I will try to get a pic of it and post it here.


Michael Grace

[Gibson]

Something interesting to be touched on here is that during Tracy's earlier mentioned 'boat ride', he had mentioned desperately needing a revolver, he "wanted a gun [a revolver] pretty bad and would hold up the first policeman that he met. He was carrying a stolen 30:30 Winchester rifle and 300 rounds of mismatched .45 caliber bullet cartridges. Tracy's gun dilemma now becomes relevant.

After following his usual pattern of utterly random travel and break ins along with shooting the bloodhounds, he enters the Johnson home, near Kent, on July 9, 1902. He demanded breakfast.

After ravenously downing a meal of eggs, batter cakes and oatmeal. Tracy thanked her for the meal and laid down for an hour. Upon arising, Tracy said, "Have you any money? You've got to get me two six-shooters." Mr. Johnson scrounged up $28.50 and headed out to buy TWO SIX-SHOOTERS. For some odd reason Tracy insisted he needed two? Anyway, Mr. Johnson did his best best but only procured one along with some ammo. A 1998 White River Journal article put it thusly:

". . . but [Johnson] could not find a revolver exactly like Harry Tracy had described. Tracy had ordered a Colt .45 with a 6-inch barrel. At E. A. Kimball's gun store, Johnson bought one with a 71/2-inch barrel, the only Colt available. It was a second-hand gun, which worried Johnson. He repeated over and over that it had to be as good as new, and insisted that the proprietor write a guarantee to that effect on the bill of sale.

Cartridges included, the sale amounted to $11. Asked if he was going to hunt Tracy, the jittery Johnson insisted that no, the gun was for somebody else. Johnson hustled wildly out of the store less than five minutes after he had entered. He proceeded to search unsuccessfully for a second gun, and at the last minute, caught a train toward home."

The White River Journal article goes on to describe how Tracy much preferred the Colt's .45 model revolver and specifically the 6" barrel version. Ultimately the gun Mr. Johnson bought has been acquired by the White River Museum. It is very likely the gun you see in Tracy's hand in the above digitally rendered photograph. Any of you guys that can examine that picture and see if it has a 7 1/2" barrel? Claims that the gun Tracy committed suicide with was a Colt's 32/20 caliber, SA revolver (frontier model) and is in the hands of a Washington collector, notwithstanding.

So Tracy leaves the Johnson's and is hurled toward the inevitable showdown. He continues the stealing of his meals and grabbing some rest here and there for the next four weeks.


THE END

According to the Raine's book: "Tracy had reached the rough country south of the Colville Indian reservation. He had become gaunt as an ill-fed wolf. Hunger, cold, and exposure have tamed more bad men than fear. They sap the physical well-being which in some men is the spring of courage. But they did not affect the iron nerve of this man. He was still as savage and as dangerous as the day when he broke out of the penitentiary. For two days and nights the outlaw hung around the Eddy ranch, not far from Creston, until a young man who saw him there raced with the news to Sheriff Gardner, who hastened to the scene at once."

A posse of five men "armed-to-the-teeth" arrive at the Eddy ranch and immediately talk with Mr. Eddy, who is working. They ask if Tracy is in his barn and he answers in the affirmative. They start for the barn and Tracy exits it to help unhitch the team. Tracy immediately asks who the men following are and is greeted with a posse member shouting "hold up your hands!". Tracy does not. Like a flash he orders Eddy into the barn and uses him to shield himself. He procures his Winchester and determines to make a fight. Tracy again exits the barn firing two shots at his antagonists, who seem to have frozen up a bit. Tracy runs for open space. The posse follows quickly. Tracy takes cover and in the fast approaching darkness opens up rapid lever-action fire on the posse. Without effect. Tracy now bolts pell-mell toward the dank Lincoln County wheat field that would be his final resting place. Like a bolt from the blue a rifle round smashes into Tracy's right lower leg. He pitches face first onto the earth. Tracy through sheer grit drags himself into the wheat field. The sheriff and his men surround the field and wait and wait in the darkness. Shortly they hear a lone revolver round's refrain.

In the early morning light the men advance to find the scene you see above, in the picture. Tracy had ended his own life with a shot near the right eye.

Indeed, a desperate man.

The Eddy men:

http://www.historylink.org/db_images/tracy18.JPG

http://www.historylink.org/db_images/tracy4.JPG

The Johnson Family:

http://www.wrvmuseum.org/journal/images/harry2.jpg

http://www.historylink.org/db_images/tracy3.JPG

[Gibson]

Baryngyl:

Thanks. Sounds great!

Harry Tracy was damned good with a levergun and a sixshooter. He was also a mad-dog when it came to being captureg. That is one sad body count for one of the real deal outlaws of our old west. Tracy was at the very end of an era. But it sure casts some light on all the **** that has been shoveled about these men. We have been lied to. The modern historian who rides in on his white horse telling you how these guys weren't tough and how their deeds are all dime novel specials, are full of ****. The accounts I post tell you factually what kind of sand these men had. Both good and bad.

Commodore Owens, Tracy, and John Wesley Hardin were men with bark on, not the product of imagination. My sketches deal with truth. The professional debunkers want to tell you things like Hickok only killed seven men. WELL PAL, HOW MANY YOU KILL TODAY? Hickok probably did kill around seven men. That's a helluva a lot in my mind. He was a fascinating character/gambler/lawman. What about Coleman Younger? Somewhere between 11-13 rounds in his body when he was finally captured. The debunkers are pathetic men who want to belittle these guys in order to feel better about their pathetic existence. Everyone knows these characters have clay feet and that hyperbole was common in the early stories. Telling people that is like telling them water is wet. But I'm here to tell you these guys were mean or these guys were good with a gun or these guys were truly desperate men. Facts. Now I might make honest errors but they will not be major. And my opinions have crept in here and there. But I'm human. Typos abound. Too much effort has gone into these already, and I'm not going to proofread. My fingers are like sausages so be forewarned. Enjoy, and if it appears there is no interest, I'll stop. I do not desire to clutter the board.

[Slow Elk 45/70]

Very Good , I am enjoying your stories...I have read a lot of the old books on these fellows...Thanks for Posting...Jim

[Gibson]

Very Good , I am enjoying your stories...I have read a lot of the old books on these fellows...Thanks for Posting...Jim

Wasn't that Commodore Perry Owens something? Snap shooting a 45/60! Had some have some oomph! :)

Something about him walking alone down the street and up to that house gets my blood to boiling, a bit.


Lots of the fellows at rugerforum follow my thread there, too. For some reason guns forever call to my mind that era and certain forums just seem to have fellows that love that kind of stuff.

I am going to put up my sketch on the "Mad Trapper of Rat River" next. It doesn't quite fit the era time wise, but it's close enough to the end. My earliest sketch deals the the "Harpe brothers" (degenerate sadists) and the "Mad Trapper" is my latest. Although one on Lone Wolf Gonzales and The Phantom Killer, might be doable. Doubtful.

Bear River Tom Smith made for a good sketch and I have two or three on Hickok. Billy the Kid killing the two deputies and escaping. . . And man old Buckshot Roberts fighting off a whole passel of men at Blazer's Mill, when that old veteran of the gun grabbed that single shot .50/70 government and commenced blasting, man, oh man. Triple distilled TOUGH. I'll get those up slowly.

Keep your chin to the wind guys. And give a nod to the old timers every once in a while. Many of our ancestors were hard men.

This haunting scene really expresses what I think about our old west and it's passing. Powerful scene on so many levels. The look on mamma's face as she runs for her husband, Slim gutshot and dying, river, sun setting, music in the background. Peckinpah must have been possessed by the muse of the old west.

Katy Jurado was something else.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hFxwq33rVAs&feature=related

[ElDorado]

This is great stuff. Thanks for taking the time and effort to post these accounts. I've read plenty of books on the old west, but there's new information here for me. Keep it up!

[scattershot]

I just found these stories. great stuff! Can't wait for the Tom Horn installment, since I used to spend some time in Brown's Hole, Colorado.

Meantime, anyone ever hear of a Southern Colorado lawman by the name of Elfego Baca? He was said to be a real ******, and the genuine article.

[Gibson]

Thanks boys!

I've decided to go with one of my favorites.

BTW: I have one on Baca. Will get it posted. I'm going to post a different one than I had planned. Tell me if catch a whiff of gunpowder and the sound of good leather creaking :)

[Gibson]

How about the Newton General Massacre? August 19,1871

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-oldwest/saloongunfight.jpg

[Gibson]

The event known as "The Newton General Massacre" or less often "The Gunfight at Hyde (or Hide) Park". Took place on the late evening of August 19/early morning of August 20, 1871. But the precursor to the event that our modern friends tell us never really occurred in the "Old West", went down on Friday the week before.

It was Friday August 11, 1871. August elections were being contested and all the town was ablaze with politics. The town had hired a couple of new men as "Special Policeman". Their names were: Billy Bailey and Mike McCluskie. Billy Bailey was a Texan who had come to Newton on a cattle drive. McCluskie was an easterner, an Ohioan. He was a hard case, been tried for garrotting a man but beat the rap. Hard drinking and hot tempered. Formerly a "Night Policeman" for a railroad company, now earning a living as a gambler until his latest job. . . The two men quarreled regularly over almost everything. This day was the same. The two men had a heated debate during the midday but parted. That evening would have a different outcome.

Bill Bailey and Mike McCluskie were both at The Red Front Saloon that same evening. Both men were, of course, strapped. It took very little time and very few drinks for the two be back at it. This time the quarrel went further. McCluskie was enraged and cold cocked Bailey knocking him slap out of building! Bailey hit the ground and looked up to McCluskie, who had rushed him as he fell. Bailey tried clearing his head, pulling his pistol and standing up. But McCluskie drew his sixgun and put a hole in Bailey's chest (maybe two). Bailey died hours later. McCluskie left town. The biggest problem here is that Newton was a cattle town and Bailey was a Texan.

For whatever reason McCluskie returned to Newton some days later. It is likely he heard word that he could again beat the rap. He claimed self defense as Bailey had been involved in mortal sixgun play on three other occasions, rumor had it two men ended up dead to Bailey's sixgun. . . Whatever, they did not charge McCluskie. However, his not getting charged did nothing to stop word from moving fast to Bailey's friends and it was clear that revenge would be had.

Now, for the most intriguing part of this story. When McCluskie had come to Newton, Kansas sometime back he had taken in a boy who was suffering from tuberculosis. The boy was quite ill and evidently McCluskie took care of him. The boy was now 18 years old. His name was James or Jim Riley, a very mysterious figure, known by locals as "McCluskie's Shadow". One can deduce he was born in 1853. Where he was born is a mystery. What is known is that he understood LOYALTY and wore a pair of Colt's revolvers.

"Late on the evening of August 19, 1871, McCluskie strode into Tuttle's Dance Hall, located in an area of town called Hyde Park. Accompanied by a friend named Jim Martin, a Texas cowboy, the two sat down to play faro. Already in the saloon was McCluskie's "shadow," James Riley."

Billy Garrett, Henry Kearnes, and Jim Wilkerson, all friends of Billy Bailey and Texans walked into the saloon and worked their way over to the bar to await another of their group, Hugh Anderson. One of them then ambles over to the table where McCluskie was seated playing faro. He engages him in conversation. This group has but a single purpose for being there: To kill McCluskie. . . Hugh Anderson enters the saloon.

It is 2am.

As we pause I present this quotation from the August 25, 1871 issue of the "Emporia News":

"It seems that this murderous affair was the result of several less fatal shooting scrapes which have been happening at Newton for some weeks.
It must be borne in mind that the state of society in that town is now at its worst. The town is largely inhabited by prostitutes, gamblers and whisky-sellers. Pistol shooting is the common amusement. All the frequenters of the saloons, gambling dens and houses of ill-fame are armed at all times, mostly with two pistols.
About two weeks ago a Captain French, from Texas, had George [or Arthur] Delany, alias Wm. [or Mike] McCluskie, a St. Louis hard case, arrested on a charge of garroting. He was tried before Esquire [C. S.] Bowman, and they failed to prove anything against him. On the day of the election on railroad bonds, McCluskie and a man named [William] Bailey [or Baylor], both of whom were on the special police, got into a difficulty about the matter of the arrest, and about a woman. Bailey got drunk. The difficulty commenced at one of the dance houses, just out of the town, and after coming to the village, Bailey was shot and killed by McCluskie. French and other Texans, among whom was one named Bill [or Hugh] Anderson, then swore they would put an end to McCluskie's life, and break up his crowd. Several small difficulties occurred between the parties and their friends. "

Note some differences. . .

The fight is next :)

[Gibson]

THE FIGHT

Hugh Anderson entered Tuttle's Saloon cocked and primed. Walked straight over to the faro table and by all accounts yelled these words, "You are a cowardly son-of-a-bitch! I will blow the top of your head off!" He then proceeds to attempt just that, while Jim Martin- McCluskie's friend- jumps up and tries to stop any violence before it starts. Anderson, ignoring Martin blazes away at McCluskie and nails him right through the neck, an horrific wound. McCluskie hauls out his cap and ball smoke-wagon and pulls the trigger but it misfires and he collapses dying. Anderson walks over and puts a round in his back, possibly two. Now all hell breaks loose. You have got to picture this, it's a hot sticky Kansas night, it's 2am in saloon that is at best poorly lighted, and now the place is filled with that wonderful acrid blinding GUN SMOKE. Stay with me now!

The three other Texans, Garrett, Wilkerson, and Kearns commence a general firing. They are blazing away at basically anyone and everyone. Now comes "McCluskie's Shadow, Jim Riley, into the fray. He brought it. Some say he walked over and locked the saloon door, doubtful. But what he did do was to unleash hell. He calmly stepped in front of the door and yanked his two Colt's revolved and brought them to bear indiscriminately. This kid emptied those Colts on seven men! Yes, he shot seven men. Some more than once. First shot hits the peacemaker in the jugular and he bolts out the door and falls dead on the steps of Krum's Dance Hall. Riley shot six more men, to include all four of the Texans and two bystanders. Here is an ordered statement of the wounds:

"Anderson [Texan] is hit in the thigh and leg. He survives his wounds.
Garrett [Texan] is hit in the shoulder and chest. he dies later in the day.
Hickey [bystander] is shot in the calf. He survives his wounds.
Kearnes [Texan] is shot in the chest. He dies on August 27th.
Patrick Lee [bystander] is shot in the stomach. He dies on August 22nd.
Wilkerson [Texan] is shot in the nose and leg. He survives his wounds."

This kid, Riley, killed four men and severely wounded three others. If all chambers fired he took twelve shots in unimaginably gun smoke filled poorly lighted room and hit with ten of them. He then turned and walked out of the saloon and was never heard from or seen again. [One must also factor in that he possibly only loaded 5 per cylinder, also.] It is my opinion that once McCluskie, his friend, was shot he no longer cared, he just unleashed lead.

Addenda to follow soon. . .

http://s3.hubimg.com/u/6072094_f260.jpg

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Newton%20Kansas.jpg

[Gibson]

The Addendum:

This is just another example that goes directly to our overriding theme!

Mike McCluskie just happened to have a brother who was larger than him and just as 'ornery'. His name: Arthur McCluskie. Well as you might have guessed, he swore to get his brothers killer, Hugh Anderson, the Texan who had barely survived the shootout. (Strangely, an arrest warrant for Anderson was issued but he somehow managed to get back to his home turf in Texas.) As long as he stayed there he was safe from both prosecution and Arthur McCluskie. But, of course, as time passed he becomes more confident and strikes out for for Kansas, again. He lands a bartender job at a trading post in Medicine Lodge, working for a man named Harding. It doesn't take long for word to filter back to Arthur McCluskie. And of course he hightails it Medicine Lodge, Kansas. And immediately goes to the post and sends in a man named Richards to fetch Anderson. It was June, 1873. . .

The following is well documented. We'll steal from the Nellie Snyder Yost and Bill O"Neill versions; all accounts are basically the same. The following is a letter perfect example of what they tell is all myth. It's not myth it's fact, just as the three prior dead to Anderson's sixgun are fact.

Anderson emerged from the trading post to be challenged to a duel. He then hears from McCluskie, "guns or knives". Anderson chooses the former as he is a much smaller man than this ogre clad all in buckskin and packing a revolver and a Bowie knife.

The men squared off later in the day. They stood back to back and stepped off twenty paces, then grimly awaited the trading post owner to fire a signal shot. This ultimately bloodthirsty wretch Harding, fires and it's on. Both men whirl around violently and fire shots neither takes effect but instantly McCluskie snaps off a second shot that breaks Anderson's left arm and he crumples, BUT! through sheer grit and from his knees he shoots McCluskie square in the face, right through the mouth, making him a bloody mess. McCluskie was enraged with pain and bloodlust, he tore straight for Anderson who sat on his knees and pumped more lead into McCluskie. . . stomach, then shoulder and then this giant of a man collapsed to the ground. The throngs watching moved closer thinking the fight was finished. But it was not. Though bullet riddled McCluskie raised his head then his revolver and squeezed off a round that just gutted Anderson. At this point multiple spectators moved to stop the blood drenched brawl but the degenerate Harding prevented them. He fell back onto his back barely breathing. McCluskie, in pure agony pulls his Bowie and crawls toward Anderson leaving a river of blood in his wake. Somehow Anderson pulls himself to a half seated position, and pulling his knife, brutally slashed McCluskie's neck. McCluskies last act was to bury his Bowie into Anderson's side as both men collapsed in death.

You believe that epic battle? Right in the street they dueled to the death. An astonishing titanic struggle.

Thus with these last two deaths we end up with eight dead and three terribly wounded as a result of the "General Massacre", if one includes it's lead up and aftermath.

[Gibson]

Cool and mysterious story, eh? The kid is an enigmatic figure. No one knows what happened to him, some even blindly dismiss him as a fiction. It gets tougher when you asked if God JUST 'miracled' those bodies there. . . because the dead are indisputable.

The addenda is all out combat, eh?

~650 hits in around 48 hours, I suppose some of the old bullet casters still enjoy tales of SIXGUNS and SADDLE LEATHER!

[Gibson]

Next Installment:

El Chivato!

Event site:

http://southernnewmexico.com/Articles/Southeast/Lincoln/Lincoln/Pictures/LincolnCourtHouse.jpg

The Dead:

http://image1.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2008/117/8076236_120933106499.jpg

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos/2005/141/8364624_111677397752.jpg

[Gibson]

The outlaw we are looking at will be referenced as Billy the Kid or some such manifestation, in keeping with the vernacular.

on December 23, 1880, when Billy surrendered at the the crude rock house in Stinking Springs, New Mexico he was led away by a large posse, the following is an alleged photo, with Billy on the far left:

http://www.skylinesongs.com/Stinking_Springs_3.jpg

A fascinating account from a posse member Jim East:

"Posse Member Jim East: "We got to the rock house just before daylight. Our horses were left with Frank Stewart and some of the other boys under guard, while Garrett took Lee Hall, Tom Emory, and myself with him. We crawled up the arroyo to within about thirty feet of the door, where we lay down in the snow.

There was no window in this house, and only one door which we would cover with our guns. The Kid had taken his race mare into the house, but the other three horses were standing near the door, hitched by ropes to the vega poles.

Just as day began to show, Charlie Bowdre came out to feed his horse. I suppose, for he had a moral in one hand. Garrett told him to throw up his hands, but he grabbed at his six-shooter. Then Garrett and Lee Hall both shot him in the breast. Emory and I didn't shoot, for there was no use to waste ammunition then.

Charlie turned and went into the house, and we heard the Kid say to him: "Charlie, you are done for. Go out and see if you can't get one of the s-o-b's before you die."

Charlie then walked out with his hand on his pistol, but was unable to shoot. We didn't shoot, for we could see he was about dead. He stumbled and fell on Lee Hall. He started to speak, but the words died with him.

Now Garrett, Lee, Tom, and I fired several shots at the ropes which held the horses, and cut them loose-all but one horse which was half way in the door. Garrett shot him down, and that blocked the door, so the Kid could not make a wolf dart on his mare.

We then held a medicine talk with the Kid, but of course couldn't see him. Garrett asked him to give up, Billy answered: Go to H**l, you long-legged s-of a b!

Garrett then told Tom Emory and I to go around to the other side of the house, as we could hear them trying to pick out a port-hole. Then we took it, time about, guarding the house all that day. When nearly sundown, we saw a white handkerchief on a stick, poked out of the chimney. Some of us crawled up the arroyo near enough to talk to Billy. He said they had no show to get away, and wanted to surrender, if we would give our word not to fire into them when they came out with their hands up, but that traitor, Barney Mason, raised his gun to shoot the Kid, when Lee Hall and I covered Barney and told him to drop his gun, which he did."

The kid was transported to Las Vegas, then ultimately to stand trial Mesilla. His first trial was dismissed; it was for the murder of "Buckshot" Roberts and was dismissed on April 6, 1881 on a technicality. His second trial was for the murder of one Sheriff Brady, it began two days later on April 8. On April 9 he is found guilty and on April 13 he is sentenced to be hanged. That quick. . . So, on April 21, Billy is transported to the Lincoln County Courthouse to await his date the with "Judge Lynch".

http://www.cardcow.com/images/set425/card00785_fr.jpg

[Gibson]

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f8/Billykid.jpg

So on April 21, 1881, Billy is imprisoned at the Lincoln County Courthouse on the upstairs floor. He is held there alone while five other prisoners are kept together, across the hall from him. His guards are Patrick Garrett, Robert Olinger, and James. W. Bell. It seems appropriate to comment a bit on Deputy Olinger (Pecos Bob) as he was clearly, even by Garrett's standards, a man with a bloodlust:

"Olinger’s lust for blood was evident to Garrett the day he and Olinger rode out to arrest an armed Mexican who had taken refuge in a ditch. Garrett promised the Mexican that if he would surrender peaceably, no harm would come to him. As the Mexican emerged from the ditch with his hands in the air, Olinger drew his pistol with homicidal intent. Only when Garrett pulled his own pistol and stood in front of the Mexican did Olinger holster his. "Put it away, Bob," said Garrett. "Unless you want to try me.'"

An example of his vileness on the trip to Lincoln, after Billy was convicted and sentenced. (Interestingly, Olinger bid for the job of transporting Billy):

"Olinger rode in the hack with Billy, constantly tormenting him and jabbing him with the muzzle of his shotgun, daring him to make a break for it. "Be careful, Bob," Billy quietly retorted. "I’m not hung yet. " And Olinger jabbed him in the stomach again with his shotgun. A majority of the guards sympathized with Billy, in spite of evidences of his villainy."

From another article concerning Olinger:

"The other is Deputy "Pecos Bob" Olinger, the hulking badman, rustler, and killer. Olinger and Billy have a deep hatred for each other which has existed since the Lincoln County War, when they fought on opposite sides. The hatred was cemeted when Olinger ambushed and killed Billy's friend John Jones, who, ironically, fought alongside Olinger in the war. In the days since he's been guarding Billy, Olinger has made constant threats and taunts to him, trying to goad him into making an escape attempt so that Olinger can fire his newly-purchased double-barrled shotgun into him. In response, Billy just taunts right back, makes jokes, and stays in a surprisingly jovial mood, which in itself angers the brutish deputy."

Yet by contrast, Deputy Bell seems to have been fair with Billy and accorded him the dignity that most men require. Although Bell probably held some bitterness toward the Kid in the death of his friend, James Carlyle, he did not show it. Garrett had even commented that Billy had taken a liking to Bell. Hm. I wonder how much of a liking?

So, on Thursday April 28 Patrick Garrett has gone to White Oaks to "collect taxes". Various accounts make it clear that he was also there to buy lumber to build the gallows for Billy's hanging set to occur on May 13, 1881, between the hours of 9am and 3pm. I suspect it could have been both. Ergo, it is just Bell and Olinger there with Billy and the other five inmates.

Billy had sat daily being very attentive to every movement of the guards biding his time and watching for an opening. I think he saw his chance with Garrett gone and only the two deputies to have to overtake. As usual, at 5pm Olinger got his other five charges and took them across the street to the Wortley Hotel where all six men would have dinner. Billy was deemed to dangerous and had his meals brought by, a friend, Sam Corbet to his "cell". At all times Billy's "gang" was a source of legitimate worry for anyone holding him! This is where the story gets murky. There are three scenarios. With Olinger safely across the way, Billy requests to go to the privy. On the way back the kid is in the lead. He is shackled and followed by the rifle toting Bell. Once they enter the building they proceed upstairs when Billy slips a cuff and turns and clocks Bells with the heavy iron bracelet. In a flash the Kid grabs for Bell's gun. Bell tries to recover and wrestles with Billy for a short while but with the revolver now in Billy's control, Bell charges staggeringly down the stairs. As he lumbers down Billy snapped off an un-aimed shot at the guard, the round grazed a wall and then found its mark. It hit Bell in the torso and passed completely through, lodging in a wall. Bell was no more. Godfrey Gauss, a former Tunstall cook and a friend of the Kid is gardening behind the "jail" He rushes around to the front and sees Bell burst through the door falling dead into his arms.

The second scenario is much the same with one prominent exception. In the privy, a revolver has been secreted and awaits the Kid. From a 1998 article:

"Maurice Fulton, a tireless researcher of New Mexican history during the 1920s and 1930s, liked the version in which Sam Corbet, who had been Tunstall's clerk, aided Billy. According to that version, Corbet had visited Billy every day and, despite the watchful eyes of Olinger and Bell, had managed to slip him a note on which one word was written — 'Privy.' Not much of a clue, but Billy was a sharp youth, and he somehow got the message — there would be a revolver waiting for him in the outhouse. The revolver had been wrapped in a newspaper and planted in the outhouse by another friend, José Aguayo. The outhouse was open to the public, so somebody else could have found the weapon. But nobody else did. On his trip to the outhouse in the early evening of the 28th, Billy had retrieved the gun and hid it in his clothes. Once back inside the courthouse, the Kid had then pulled the revolver from its hiding place and shot the unsuspecting Bell."

The third scenario is that the kid did have the revolver but cracked Bell over the head with it twice during a scuffle. However when Bell bolted down the steps, he shot him.

Take your pick, each is equally amazing and one is definitely TRUE.

(Another theory was advanced by Pat Garrett. He closely examined the aftermath and concluded that a shackled Billy simply raced upstairs away from Bell grabbed a revolver from the armory kept on the second floor and shot Bell. Dubious but I suppose possible.)

For the record, I lean toward scenario number one. Billy the Kid allegedly told a friend, John P. Meadows, shorty after the event that he had hit Bell with the handcuffs and shot him with his own pistol. Daring and reckless and likely the truth!

The Kid after a herculean struggle had managed to go from being shackled, cuffed, and guarded with a Winchester rifle, to having a dead deputy laying in the street. He next completely frees himself of his cuffs and tosses them into the street from a second story window. (According to Garrett, Billy threw the cuffs at Bell's body and said, 'Here, damn you, take these, too.') He next procures the 10 gauge that Robert Olinger has tormented him with.

http://www.skylinesongs.com/OlingerGunJPEG-copy.jpg

Ollinger had just recently loaded it with two 18-pellets rounds of buckshot. You getting this? A 10-gauge loaded in any manner is formidable!

The Kid now does something that becomes legendary. . . he could have awaited Olinger and likely taken him prisoner. Then locked him in a "cell" and rode away. He did not. He positioned himself near "his window", armed with the mighty 10, and waited. Here's what happened next:

"A few seconds later, Olinger rushes out of the Wortley Hotel yelling "Did Bell kill the Kid?!" He quickly runs into the side-yard, just below the window Billy is positioned in, and hears Gauss yell "The Kid has killed Bell!" Just then, from his second-story perch, Billy calls out a cheerful "Hello Bob!" Olinger freezes in place, looks up, sees the two barrels of his own shotgun staring down at him, and quietly replies to Gauss, "Yes, and he's killed me too." With that, Billy pulls both triggers and fires thirty-six buckshot into Pecos Bob's face, right shoulder, chest, and side. What's left of the deputy falls to ground, dead. Billy then smashes the shotgun over the window sill and throws the broken pieces at Olinger's body, shouting "Take that, you damned son-of-a-bitch! You won't corral me with that again!"

Notice in the photo that the stock has been wired back on.

Billy had earlier "raided" the makeshirt armory. He procured, a Winchester rifle, two pistols, and two cartridge belts loaded with ammunition; then he called down to his amigo, Godfrey and asked him to throw up a pickax. A short time later he requested a saddled horse. the Kid spent a great while working on his leg irons with the axe and it is said that he there for well over an hour AFTER both deputies were dead. He finally managed to free one leg from the shackle and tied the other to his belt. He walked out into a crowd of onlookers. He looks down Bells corpse and apologizes and walks over and kicks Olingers lifeless body and says "you will not corral me anymore", for a second time. and attempted to mount the horse that had been taken for him from County Clerk Billy Burt.

As he mounts the pony it spooks and he is thrown. After it is brought back Billy mounts more carefully and rides away singing, he yells back for the folks to "Tell Billy Burt I'll send his pony back, and don't look for me this side if Ireland. Adios, boys!" (It was.)

Billy rides off to the west and into American legend

http://www.skylinesongs.com/Courthouse_3.jpg

http://www.cowboysindians.com/content/articles/2009-06/outhouses/brown_big.jpg

http://www.badhombres.com/lawmen/photos/lincolncountycourthouse-cell.gif

http://www.desertusa.com/mag06/mar/images/m-courthouse.jpg

http://activerain.com/image_store/uploads/5/1/2/4/4/ar124692935744215.JPG

[jmort]

I read all this thread, stem to stern. I demand more! Best reading I have had for a good while.

[rintinglen]

Just a follow up note on Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry Owens (to give his full name).
He remained a Law man well into the 20th Century, and arrested a couple of Bank Robbers who made the mistake of discounting the old constable after he shot up their getaway car with his old thumb buster. He was 69 or 70 at the time.

[Gibson]

I read all this thread, stem to stern. I demand more! Best reading I have had for a good while.

You betcha! Glad to oblige. Thanks, man :mrgreen:

I am going to put up my sketch of the mad trapper now. I know it's not strictly an old west story. But danged if it doesn't have a feel of old west zeitgeist, ya know?

Stay tuned, that man exhibited a feat of human endurance that rivals Harvey Logan in Knoxville :) Well, surpasses him. . . no doubt. But soon we'll get to Harvey "Kid Curry" Logan. Now there was a true blue gunfighter, in the sense of being in fights that involved guns. I almost wrote a book on him many years ago as a young man. He is reputed to have killed nine law officers. I wouldn't doubt it. Oops, sorry I'm getting ahead of myself.

[Gibson]

Just a follow up note on Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry Owens (to give his full name).
He remained a Law man well into the 20th Century, and arrested a couple of Bank Robbers who made the mistake of discounting the old constable after he shot up their getaway car with his old thumb buster. He was 69 or 70 at the time.

Bravo. Feel free to contribute anytime! Sounds a lot like a Jeff Milton, now there was a lawman's lawman! In 1917, after 40 years (he went on to put in over 50 years of law enforcement service, he had one usable arm in 1917, and accomplished the following (from a sketch I wrote on Milton):

"The would-be robber, Fred Koch, was somewhat simple minded. He fled the bank afoot, after mortally wounding the banker. To his surprise the wounded man came from the vault bearing a scattergun. Koch parted the doorway in a dead run. While puttering into town astride his sewing machine, AKA T Model Ford :) we have Jeff Milton. Milton, moving toward 60, still had the instincts of a lawman and instantly swung into action. He rolled over and picked up the sheriff and then putted out of town hot on Koch's trail. Within a mile or so they caught up but neither man had secured a rifle. So, Jeff plowed out of the old Ford and yelled at Koch to "STOP!" Well, I suppose Koch said to him himself, 'nuttin' from nuttin' leab nuttin'', and decided to keep hoofing it. Bad Mistake. Old Jeff pulled up his .38 and cut drive on him; "dropped him in a heap". Shot through the arm, he was easily captured. They loaded him into the Ford and chugged back into town. Milton had to stand guard over the simpleton until the townsfolk calmed. Koch was later placed in an asylum."

Milton began in law enforcement with the Texas Rangers in 1878 and retired as a Border Patrol Agent in 1932. Double Tough SOB!

[fouronesix]

Meantime, anyone ever hear of a Southern Colorado lawman by the name of Elfego Baca? He was said to be a real ******, and the genuine article.

Actually,
Elfego Baca spent most if not all his life in southern and southwestern NM. Quite a recognized name there, especially among the older generation- mostly passed now. One of the last of the gunfighter/lawmen of the old west. IIRC the history- had a heckuva shootout at Frisco Plaza (Reserve NM).
The US Marshal for that area was an old family friend who often spoke about Baca. Unfortunately, I was a little too young to remember the details other than the name Elfego Baca was frequently mentioned when recalling stories of the last of the wild west in that area.

[Gibson]

Re: Baca. I did a sketch on the "Frisco Shootout", so to speak. No doubt, you have more to add than I do but I'll post it up in time.

"Those were great old days. Everything is very quiet now, isn't it?" said Mr. Baca looking up. "I think I'll run for something this fall, but I don't know what yet. "

-Baca, in his later years

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[We are stepping away from our thread title's purview a bit tonight]

Tonight we do a sketch on what I have considered since my youth to be one of the INCREDIBLE feats of human endurance ever exhibited.

"Albert Johnson" was one helluva man. I recall almost 30 years ago borrowing a book on inter-library loan from a library in PA. I had seen this fellow mentioned and wanted to learn more about him. Fascinating! Being still a kid, I just could not fathom how he survived and now as an adult it is still as mysterious as his identity.

The Mad Trapper of Rat River:

http://www.lackenbauer.ca/Hist103/pics/Mad%20Trapper.jpg

Maybe you recall the Hollywood version:

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_fi3crx-lEyk/THG68kipK0I/AAAAAAAAATc/sAVdJXcbkHU/s1600/DeathHunt.jpg

Stay tuned. . .

[Gibson]

“On the “mystery roll” of the
man-hunt scroll is written the
trapper’s name, But no-one
knows just who he was, from
whence or why he came.”


Despite a herculean effort on the part of many, "The Mad Trapper", Albert Johnson, has never been identified. He was and is a man of mystery. There have been numerous folks proffered but thus far DNA has excluded even our best suspects. The tests on his teeth indicate he was likely from either Scandinavian or from the American "Corn Belt". All up, I suspect he was Scandinavian. Eye witnesses who actually heard him speak claimed he had an accent indicating such heritage. Albert Johnson never uttered a word to the Mounties. Whoever he was, he was one determined individual. It took the most modern of tools at the time to run him to ground BUT he gave them an incredible run using nothing but the old ways and employing human endurance that would make Shackleton proud. Tough is not a strong enough word for this hombre.

[Gibson]

No one knows for sure of whence he came- as the poem says- but he showed up in 1927.

"The place is the Yukon Territory. A stranger arrives at the Ross River Post for supplies, claiming his name is Arthur Nelson, and that he is remaining at the post just long enough to build a boat. He buys the necessary materials from the Taylor and Drury Trading store, in cash, using large bills. Although generally keeping to himself, he does converse with a trader named Roy Buttle who is helping him build the boat. He reveals only his Danish heritage and that he was raised on a small farm in North Dakota. He leaves the settlement nine days later, as suddenly and as strangely as he arrived.

Over the next couple of years, Arthur Nelson is occasionally seen in the surrounding area. About a year after leaving Ross River Post, he returns for a month to await the supply boat. Soon after, he asks some trappers for directions to the settlement of Keno. Next he asks the way to Mayo. Nelson is seen on July 9, 1931, at Fort McPherson."

From an internet article, here is the set-up:

"Albert Johnson’s arrival in Fort MacPherson, July 9th 1931 on the southern edge of the Mackenzie delta (67 degrees N latitude) was by all accounts non-eventful. He was approximately 35 years of age, a very taciturn individual with cold blue eyes coupled with a stocky muscular build. These physical characteristics in men that trapped for a living in the north were nothing out of the ordinary.

What the local people considered strange, however, was the fact that Albert did not bother to obtain a trapping license even though he built an 8' X 10' cabin with a good view on 3 sides in a prime trapping location on the Rat River.

With the trapping season in full swing by early December 1931 some of Albert's neighbours began having someone disrupt their traps. The only change from last season to this one - was Albert Johnson. On Dec. 31 Constable Alfred 'Buns' King and Special Constable Joe Bernard, each of whom had considerable northern experience, decided to call on Johnson to investigate. When they approached his cabin they noticed smoke billowing up from the chimney giving the impression that he was in the cabin. But Albert wasn’t in a talking mood."

Native trappers had actually made reports with RCMP.

"The natives of Fort McPherson who trap and hunt in and around the Rat River had reported that their traps had been sprung, hung on bushes, and in some cases, thrown away. These natives had had previous experience of this nature when some trapper had become a victim of the northern solitudes and had lost his reason. Therefore, they tarried not on the order of their going, but cleared out immediately. They later reported to the RCMP, and suspicion pointed to Albert Johnson, a trapper who lived in a cabin about 12 miles up the Rat River. It was understood that he was trapping without a license. So, shortly after Christmas, Constable King left for the Rat River to question him on these two items."

Albert Johnson however had other ideas. Johnson had actually met RCMP Constable Edgar Millen earlier and had had a short, one-sided conversation with him; telling him nothing more. He wanted to be LEFT ALONE. Period.

The natives referred to above were the Louchoux Natives and these are the folks who complained to Millen, who in turn dispatched Constable King, as the quotation notes.

King arrived at the cabin in late December, 1931. Mr. Johnson, as mentioned, utters not a word. . . just waits. It is 40 below when King decides to go back, accompanied by his native guide and Constable Joe Bernard, he left for Aklavik to secure a search warrant. The warrant having been obtained, he again headed for the cabin, this time he was additionally accompanied by Constable Lazarus Sittichiulis and Robert McDowell. When they return to the cabin, it is December 31, 1931 and they are "promptly greeted with a hail of fire. Constable King is severely wounded and the posse falls back." Again.

Albert Johnson had evidently had enough with visitors. On arrival, King approached the door and, with his back to the wall of the cabin, leaned over and knocked upon the door with the back of his left hand. Without uttering a sound, as soon as he heard the men and then the knock, he opened up with his Colt's .38 Auto; he shot through the cabin door, severely wounding King. The "shot from within entered his chest, travelling across the body and out through his ribs on his right side. Constable McDowell then went to the assistance of his wounded comrade and making him as comfortable as possible, loaded him in the carry-all of the toboggan and started a race to Aklavik for medical attention." A 20+ hour dogsled trip back to Aklavik and a great job by Dr. Urquhart saved his life. The date was New Year's Day 1932.

Strike Two. . .

The Constables now would make a third try. Here are the words set forth in a report rendered by Sgt Maj. (WO l) (1) "Nash" Neary, who was at that time the Warrant Officer in charge of the Royal Canadian Signals Radio Station at Aklavik.

Canadian Army Journal 2/3 (1948)

"This meant that Johnson was now wanted on a further charge and Inspector Eames, RCMP, requested the Royal Canadian Signals personnel at Aklavik to broadcast a request to Constable Millen at Arctic Red River for him to report at once at the mouth of the Rat River. Meantime, the Inspector had been preparing supplies, etc., to take another party out, and this party, consisting of the Inspector, Constable McDowell, Trappers Lang, Garland and Sutherland, accompanied by two native guides, left Aklavik for the Rat River. Enroute, they picked up some dynamite in the hope of being able to blow a hole in Johnson's cabin should he refuse to come out. Constable Millen, having received the message, was awaiting them at the mouth of the Rat River.

Preferring to arrive at Johnson's cabin from above, and following the lead of a native who led them astray, two days were lost, the native leading them in a triangle around the cabin all the time, telling them "cabin only four miles." They made camp and started over the mountain on foot, travelling a distance or 14 miles before sighting the cabin. Trappers Garland and Lang circled the cabin and ascertained that Johnson was still there but, being on foot and having no supplies, they were forced to return the 14 miles to their base. Early next morning, the camp was moved closer and operations to entice Johnson to come out of his cabin were commenced. The only reply received was rifle fire from the cabin, which was apparently loopholed at all angles.

A glimpse at the interior showed that the cabin had been dug out to a depth of about two or three feet. It was quite small, the roof well-packed with earth about one foot in depth, and a small window about a foot and a half by three feet. Later examination showed that the base of the cabin had a double row of logs and earth packed in between it. Thus nature, freezing the earth, substituted frozen earth for concrete, the cabin presenting a veritable "pillbox". For 15 hours, during which the entire party had many narrow escapes, many attempts were made to have Johnson come out but without success, and the charges of dynamite being poorly prepared and unconfined, proved ineffectual. Supplies and dog feed, having run out, the party was forced to return to Aklavik.

The RC Signals broadcast station was again pressed into service and a request sent asking Dodman of the Hudson's Bay Company at Arctic Red River to keep operations moving with dried fish up to the mouth of the Red. A call was sent out asking for volunteers and, the National Defence authority had been obtained. QMS Riddell who has an enviable reputation in the north country as a hunter, traveller, etc., and Staff Sgt Hersey of the RC Signals, were gladly accepted by Inspector Eames."

What the above fails to mention is that the dynamite was thawed against Mounties' bodies and it was ineffectual only in that it failed to put an end to Johnson. Those Mounties DYNAMITED that cabin! They blew the roof of and collapsed an entire wall but Johnson was in his pillbox and unharmed. Here are the real details:

"On Jan 4, 1932, with 9 men, 42 dogs and 40 pounds of dynamite, a posse was determined to bring this fugitive in. Once their positions were secure on the cabin perimeter, the dynamite was thawed out by holding it under their coats close to their bodies.

The dynamite was thrown into the structure and a massive explosion ripped the roof clean off with one of the walls caving in.

As the Mounties entered the cabin to remove the corpse, Johnson stood up from a fox hole he dug firing 2 weapons narrowly missing both officers. A hasty retreat was in order again. After a 15 hr siege and food starting to run low they returned to Aklavik to contemplate their next move."

So, 9 men with 42 dogs and 20 pounds of dynamite, failed to put an end to this. Again the mounties "return to their post to restock". It is 47 below when they decide to "restock". In the meantime Johnson, abandons his mostly destroyed cabin.

"Twenty-one men, including 11 Louchoux Natives, return to the cabin on January 16, but this time Johnson has escaped, probably heading for the Alaskan border. With enough food to last them nine days, Millen, Riddell (a soldier), and two trappers, set out to find the elusive Johnson."

All of this has been picked up by Canadian radio. Folks are hearing updated reports of the coming chase, daily.

It is 50 below.

The Cabin:

http://www.mysteriesofcanada.com/images/MADTRAPP.jpg

Johnson:

http://www.mysteriesofcanada.com/images/johnson.jpg

[Gibson]

More here later. I double posted.

[Slow Elk 45/70]

Yup , Mr. Gibson,,,I am enjoying your post...more is in order....Jim[smilie=w:

[Gibson]

For the next week in temperatures running near 50 below Albert Johnson moved constantly. It was over a week after he had left before the group of RCMP and their Indian guides caught a glimpse of his posible trail. The doggedly followed it and caught up with Albert on January 30, 1932.

From the account by Neary:

"On January 28th, with a temperature of 47 below and a slight headwind, Hersey and a native, each with a heavy load of supplies, set out for the base now located "somewhere on the Rat River. "
The following day it was 49 below, again with wind, and on Saturday, the 30th, when they passed the old base site, it was 36 below. They continued a further 25 miles up the Rat to the new camp established by the four who had remained behind.

In the meantime, Riddell, Millen, Garland and Verville had roamed and combed the timber along the Rat during every minute of daylight, trying to find some trace of Johnson. They found two caches, one containing about half-a-ton of grub. These were left untouched as a possible bait, and examined daily through field glasses in the hope that he would endeavour to reach them and thus leave a trail -but no luck. The party was now out of dog-feed and their supplies consisted of a little tea, hard tack and bacon only. They had been working in pairs, joining up at dusk on their way back to the base. While waiting for the tea to boil, Riddell went wandering around and coming upon a faint trail crossing glare ice followed it to the top of ridge where he lost it. He circled for a while and came across it again in a small creek. It appeared to be one or two days old so he returned to notify the others. Next morning the party set off on this trail, but as it was over hard, windswept ground, it was often lost and picked up again only in the sheltered spots. Thus they traced him through two or three old camps before finally losing the trail altogether.

Verville and Riddell now headed in one direction and Millen and Garland in another. By this time, Johnson's habits had become fairly well known to them, that is, he was slowly but surely heading in the direction of the Divide. He never crossed a creek unless on glare ice. Invariably, he travelled the ridges which were hard-packed and where the slightest wind erased his tracks. At times he even used his pursuers' trail. When he was ready to camp he would strike a creek at the head, continue down it until he reached timber and having selected his camping place, would continue on in a circle, back-tracking far enough so he could watch and see anyone on his trail without being seen himself.

The party was forced to extend and travel continually in half circles, trying to pick up his trail, and it was thus that Riddell and Verville came upon a fresh trail leading up a small creek heading for the "Bald" Hills. Here and there they came upon old quarters of caribou, and reasoned he was short of grub and was away in search of caribou. They divided, one on each side of the trail, fully expecting to meet him returning, but after following the trail for some few miles, it became obvious that he was making a huge circle and heading in the general direction of his starting point.

They then cut across the hills and picked up his trail again, only to lose it shortly afterwards. The half-circle method of travel had once more to be adopted in the hope of picking up the trail. Shortly afterwards, they came to a deep canyon and for the first time saw the smoke from his campfire. Expert musher, trapper and outdoor man, as Johnson proved to be, it is hardly necessary to say he was using only poplar and willows for his fire, thus carefully eliminating anything but a very thin haze of smoke. They drew level, and from the top of the canyon could see his fire and tarpaulin. While they could see these, though they watched carefully for two hours, they caught not the slightest sign of Johnson himself. Their travel had been strenuous and frost had gathered inside their fur clothing. With dusk coming on they were frozen out and forced to return to their camp. "

On Saturday morning in a severs blizzard this man who could not shoot his rifle to kill game for food nor could he even build a fire was caught in his camp by several of the constables. He ended up exchanging fire with them and Constable Millen was shot through the heart by Johnson weilding his 30-30 Savage rifle. Stone dead. Again in a driving blizzard and the temperature sitting at 47 below. Albert Johnson slipped away.

The posse now grew by leaps and bounds! Next comes the famed WW1 fighter pilot "Wop" May into the chase. Yep, they used a plane. A solitary man was eluding 100+ pursuers and now they called in air help.

It appears Johnson was headed for the Yukon Territory. The mounties with all of their manpower had managed to flank Johnson during the chase, and block two of the escape rout passes. If the passes are blocked, what would Johnson do?

This is where one of the greatest feats of survival that I am aware of occurred. In a driving blizzard at night with absolutely no climbing gear whatsoever, no food and a white out, Johnson climbed a 7,000 feet sheer rock peak and walked away. It took the Wop May to see what he had done, well after the fact because May did not arrive until February 5. The height allowed him to spot his tracks moving away from the top of the cliff. UNBELIEVABLE!

"With visibility during the blizzard at near zero, trying to cling to sheer cliffs of slippery ice and numbing cold, the mountain men of the area told the Mounties it would be impossible to do at this time of the year even with the proper gear and food."

From wiki:

"On February 14, [May] discovered the tactic Johnson had been using to elude his followers. He noticed a set of footprints leading off the centre of the frozen surface of the Eagle River to the bank. Johnson had been following the caribou tracks in the middle of the river, where they walked in order to give them better visibility of approaching predators. Walking in their tracks had hidden his footprints and allowed him to travel quickly on the compacted snow without having to use his snowshoes. He left the trail only at night to make camp on the river bank, which is the track May had spotted. May radioed back his findings and the RCMP gave chase up the river, eventually being directed to Johnson by February 17."

It was now February 17, and the end of the trail for Johnson. The mounties semi-surrounded the area pointed out to them by May. And a firefight ensued. Johnson was game to the end and immediately cut down Hersey. Finally he made a break for the far bank of the frozen Eagle River but halted and buried up in the snow. It was then decided to call on him to surrender. He responded with a Savage 30-30 doing the talking. Finally he was silenced. He was dead, hit nine times.

"On Johnson’s person were found 32 kidney pills, $2, 410 dollars in large bills, both Canadian and American (worth approximately $60, 000 today), and two glass jars, one containing five pearls, and the other, seven gold pieces of dental work. He was also found with a .22 Winchester rifle, a model 99 Savage, a .30-30 rifle, 39 .30-30 ammunition shells, 84 .22 shells, four shotgun shells, a pocket compass, a razor, a knife, fish hooks, nails, a dead squirrel, and a dead bird."

I think he two rifles but according to the above he had three, evidently he had abandoned the .38 Auto mentioned above.

Here is a wonderful description of him [Albert is referenced as Arthur Nelson but he was not Arthur Nelson, however the mixup may be I suspect that this is the "mad trapper"] and his .22 and 30-30 from the book I mentioned at the beginning:


"The man was five feet nine inches tall. He had blond hair and pale blue eyes. He weighed 175 pounds, with legs like tree stumps; his neck and shoulders were as powerful as a caribou bull’s. His name was Arthur Nelson. He unslung the two rifles he carried over his two-hundred-pound pack. He put one rifle into the snow. It was a Winchester .22. He hefted the other rifle in his hands and quietly racked a shell into the breech. It was a 30-30 Model 99 Featherweight "take-down" Savage, and made up in muzzle velocity what is lacked in size. Slowly, the rugged, clear-eyed man knelt down into the snow. Unseen, he eyed the figure of a man following him here, above McQuesten Flats fifteen miles north of Keno, Yukon Territory. It was May 7, 1931, and he was heading to the Beaver River, and then across the Wernecke Mountains to the Arctic slope, and from there down north to the Porcupine country. He wanted to be alone and was ready to ensure that he would be. Slowly, he raised the rifle to his shoulder. Ten more steps and the man would be close enough. Nelson put his index finder through the trigger-guard of the rifle. He counted nine, eight, seven, six, five - suddenly the stranger stopped, looked around briefly, and then turned and started back the way he had come. Nelson brought the Savage down from his shoulder. He had seen that the man wore the chocolate brown drill parka of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Nelson shrugged his shoulders and slung the two rifles over his pack and continued north. He was never seen again."

Nothing, to my knowledge compares to his feats of endurance. Two full on blizzards and a temperature of near 50 below and he survived with no fire and on raw food.

"In his attempt to flee, Johnson led the RCMP, as well as civilian and military volunteers, over 240 kilometres of Richardson Mountains, from the Northwest Territories into the Yukon. In the cold and dark arctic winter of 1932, the chase went on for 48 days. It ended with one Mountie dead and the mysterious trapper dead. And policing in northern Canada would never be the same."

http://www.nwtandy.rcsigs.ca/graphics/map_rat_river.gif

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xpE1FpQmWuk/Sp4Jlg-yLLI/AAAAAAAAAmo/cxzOwsPF6Gs/s1600/map-nwt-aklavik.jpg

http://www.nwtandy.rcsigs.ca/P_Pix/may_2.jpg

Effects:

http://img233.imageshack.us/img233/8315/johnsonh.jpg
http://img715.imageshack.us/img715/7805/89852479.jpg
http://img26.imageshack.us/img26/5386/34699138.jpg

[Gibson]

Thanks Slow Elk!

I hope everyone enjoyed the "Mad Trapper of Rat River".

Maybe not, I don't know. BUT I found the whole thing fascinating. The Discovery channel even funded DNA tests fairly recently done.

The story itself with the exception of the ancient airplane is mostly right out of our "Old West".

Scaling that 7,000 foot peak in 50 below with a blizzard and likely at night with zero climbing equipment is possibly the most amazing thing I have ever heard.

After some looking, it appears that King was shot with a jacketed .38 auto bullet. It also seems clear that Johnson carried three long guns, a Winchester Model 58 in .22, a Savage Model 99 in .30-30, and an Ivor Johnson scattergun in 16 gauge (sawed off, of course).

Tomorrow another. . .

[Gibson]

If your heart is set on learning all you can about Tom Horn, read Monaghan, Krakel, Carlson. All three writers have dug much more deeply into the subject matter. In another place one ******* acted as if a sketch is supposed to somehow contain the data that full accounts do. This account is what it is. . . Offers up some commonly accepted bits and some quoted newspaper accounts as well chunks of Horn's appeal quoted verbatim. One of the most striking things to me is Nate Champion's death.


Ain't this a spectacle? We haven't scratched the surface. I hope to get to some Indian Wars stories and some mountain man tales. I also won't to do some stories on Cassidy and the Wild Bunch concerning individual robberies. Same with Jesse James. There is just an almost never ending supply of material.

I'm going to try to get together something on Tom Horn. A fascinating character, a true westerner by his lifestyle. Left his Missouri home at 14 and never looked back. He was indeed, as I have typed of many of these folks, the REAL thing. From a scout under Al Seiber- interpreting for Geronimo and scouting during the Apache War, to a Pinkerton detective, to enlisting in the Army to fight in the Spanish-American War (just as ship was leaving from Tampa heading to Cuba, Horn contracted malaria and was not sent). Finally a range detective. . .

I will never find the book in which I read this, but I believe it was from, Al Seiber's report on an outlaw they captured. [THIS IS NOT THE CASE] He told of how they had the killer's cabin surrounded at daybreak on a bitterly cold morning in the mountains and how that the outlaw refused to come out and then how that Horn threw his Winchester into the crook of his arm and walked right out in front of the cabin oblivious to fire and then brought the man out. Exact words, as I recall were, "It took cold courage to do what Horn did, that day." [YEARS BACK I READ THIS AND STILL HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I GOT IT. PEG LEG WATSON IS THE OUTLAW BUT SEIBER WASN'T INVOLVED.]

Indeed.

Make no mistake he was a SPOOKY kind of fellow there was some darkness there. He was kind of like that friend that we all have who is good as gold to us but we always know he has a darkness about him. This was Tom Horn.

[Gibson]

We are going to examine whether Horn murdered the 14 year old son of Kels Nickell, Willie.

Some of Horn's testimony during his trial for his life in the Willie Nickell murder case. . . the exchange here is between Tom and prosecutor Stoll:

STOLL. State your name, occupation and residence.
HORN. My name is Tom Horn; I suppose my occupation is that of a detective, as near as I can get at it. When I am at home I reside at Mr. Coble’s ranch in Albany County; that has been my home for a number of years.
STOLL. Mr. Horn, we understand that you have been up around this section of the country a good deal and have laid around the hills a good deal of the time and have had an opportunity to observe people, things etc. We would like know if there is anything you can tell us about the killing of Willie Nickell. If you saw anything or recollect around there at that time?
HORN: I was in the country just prior to the killing of that kid a day or two.
STOLL. Do you know what day he was killed?
HORN: No, I do not.
STOLL. It was Thursday the eighteenth of July?
HORN. Now, I will tell you I don’t know about the dates, but I know on Monday of the week on which he was killed, on Monday morning, whatever date that was, I left Billy Clay’s....
I went over to Miller’s ranch.... I went to the head of a hay valley this Monday and went to Miller’s ranch Monday night.

“...my business was ended...”

I was there all day Tuesday, and on Tuesday I went up [i.e., to the west] to the head of the creek that Miller lives on. Passed down to where Nickell [might have] had his sheep in Johnny Coble’s pasture. I went up there and found they hadn’t [the sheep had not gone into Coble’s pasture] and my business was ended. I went back to the Miller’s ranch and stayed there again that night. That was Tuesday night; I left there Wednesday morning.
STOLL. The kid was killed Thursday, did you say?
HORN. Yes, sir. I left there Wednesday morning; it was along before the middle of the forenoon after I got breakfast.
STOLL. Up to this time did you see any stranger in that locality, anybody riding along?
HORN. No, sir.
STOLL. Did you know Willie Nickell yourself?
HORN. I don’t believe I ever saw him. I know Nick [Kels] very well himself but I don’t think I ever saw any member of his family, only at a distance.
STOLL. Are you acquainted with the Miller family?
HORN. The family I do not know at all, only as I met them that night. I met Jim Miller before over on the [Laramie] Plains. I met him one evening, he and Whitman. Coble and myself got there in the springtime ?? the river was up pretty well ?? and went over to the Bosler Station to get a barrel of beer. We got it and came back. That was the first time I ever see him. He invited me to visit if I ever come through that part of the country. I happened to have a little business in there and I called....STOLL. When you went away Wednesday, which way did you go?
HORN. I went down the river [toward the southeast] and up to what we call Colcord Place [a pasture owned by the Two Bar, one?half mile east of Nickell’s land]. I thought maybe the sheep might be in there. I pulled across through the hills over on the head of the Sybille. This is the time [of year] you shift the cows outside.... I have been doing that except six or seven days. I was [going] in[to] Laramie to see Colonel Bill [sic]….

That ends the snippet.

Here is another snippet with fair commentary from the wyomingtailsandtrails.com site:

"Horn took the stand in his own defense. The cross-examination by the prosecutor, Walter Stoll, was devasting. Statement by statement, Horn admitted making the various statements testified to by LeFors, Snow and Ohnhaus with the exception of one statement which Horn did not remember but conceded he might have made. Stoll asked Horn relating to some alleged statements made in Denver:

Q. At that time, I am not asking to reflect on you in anyway, were you in a condition to remember whether you had these conversations with these men or not?

A. I remember everthing [sic] that occurred to me in my life.

Q. You have never been so much under the influence of liquor as to not remember what you said?

A. Not if I could talk.

Yet, in addition to the statement he could not remember, time and time again, Horn could not remember things:

Q. Did you have on your straw hat in riding from Coble's ranch down to Laramie City on July 20th, or do you remember how you were dressed?

A. I don't remember.

Q. You do remember distinctly that you did not see anyone on the way down?

A. I don't remember distinctly that I didn't see anyone; I don't remember of seeing anyone.

Witnesses had testified that they saw Horn on the road to Laramie City.

Horn contended that his confession was a "josh;" it was merely an exchange of wild tales. Slowly and inexorably through a plethora of witnesses, Stoll seemingly destroyed Horn's defenses and alibis. But not really. [Very often through the use of Tom's own statements, this however is not saying much, as there was not much of a case put up to defend against. It was thin. Very thin. It's like a witness alibiing Tom as being a long distance from the crime scene and then Tom turning around saying that he could have made the long ride to the crime scene. Proves nothing but it does sort of shootdown the witness.]] 1901 Frontier Day Bronco Champion 24-year old Otto Plaga testified that an hour after the time of the killing, Horn was 17 or 18 miles miles from the Nickell Ranch. Horn destroyed this alibi by admitting that he could easily have made it to where Plaga said he was following the killing. The witnesses admitted that although Horn had been drinking, Horn was in control of himself. Dr. Barber admitted he could not say that the wounds were not inflicted with a 30-30.

Other alibi witnesses placed Horn in a different location from that where Horn said he was. And yet others placed Horn at the Miller Ranch 3 or 4 miles from the Nickell Ranch for several days before the killing and at the William Clay Ranch just to the north of the Nickell spread. The owner of the Elkhorn Barn admitted that the time of check-in of Pacer at the livery in Laramie City was filled out on the registration form when Horn checked out. Horn could have made it to Laramie City following the killing. Various witnesses testified that Horn's horse was in a lather, covered with sweat, as if ridden hard. Further doubt as to the "Pacer" defense was created by testimony that in addition to Pacer Horn was also riding a CAP brand horse named "Cap." Witnesses were adduced that Horn left a sweater in a shoe store in Laramie City which was covered with dirt. The owner and the clerk were so sure that the individual leaving the sweater was Horn that they mailed it to Horn at the Laramie County Jail care-of Sheriff Smalley.

At the conclusion of the two-week trial, on October 24, 1902, at 4:20 p.m., the jury foreman called to the bailiff telling him that the jury had reached a verdict. Seventeen minutes later, with the jury in the box, the verdict was read."

I have read the entirety of Horn's testimony and it seems to me that he was a bit arrogant but was often a bit too honest as well. A guy puts me 17-18 from the scene of the crime, I'm not going to contradict him, you know?

Let us get Tom's confession out on the table or at least an agreed on characterization of it with some of the more infamous quotes:

"On Saturday, January 11, 1902, Horn met with LeFors in Cheyenne and the two engaged in conversation. Unbeknownst to Horn, two witnesses were secreted in the next room: a short hand stenographer, Charles Olnhaus, and Laramie County Deputy Sheriff, Leslie Snow. Olnhaus would later serve as Clerk of the United States District Court. During the course of conversations over two days, Horn allegedly admitted that he killed Nickell with his Winchester Model 1894 30-30 rifle and placed a stone under Nickell's head as his "sign." Horn told LeFors that he, Horn, had been paid in advance and received $2,100 for killing three men and taking five shots at another. He told LeFors that the reason there were no footprints is that he was barefoot. LeFors asked whether Horn had carried the shells away, to which Horn responded: "You bet your [expletive deleted] life I did." Additionally, Horn admitted to the unsolved murder of William Lewis and Fred Powell near Iron Mountain in 1895. On Monday, January 13, Horn was arrested in the bar of the Inter-Ocean Hotel by Laramie County Sheriff Edwin J. Smalley, accompanied by Deputy Sheriff Richard A. Proctor and Chyenne Chief of Police Sandy McNeil. Deputy United States Marshal Joe LeFors watched."

Further:

"He also calmly told LeFors how he shot the Nickell boy at three hundred yards and called it "the best shot that I ever made and the dirtiest trick I have ever done ... killing is my specialty ... I look on it as a business ..."

Now, upon what was this "confession" or confession predicated?

Greed? Likely

Alcohol? YES

And plenty of chewing tobacco :) Not sure that affected the outcome but it's true.

Nickell's ranch house/cabin:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/NickellHomestead.jpg

Looking from the Iron Mountain Post Office toward the Nickell's ranch:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/imountpo.jpg

http://emerdelac.files.wordpress.com/2011/12/tom_horn_standing.jpg


Sixteenth Street in downtown Cheyenne, around 1902. The U.S. marshal's office was inside the second-story bay window in the building at the left. From, Wyoming Tales and Trails:

http://www.wyohistory.org/sites/default/files/images/cheyenne16thstreet1902.img_assist_custom-480x301.jpg

Greed:

Horn had been on a various drinking sprees as was his custom, Deputy U.S. Marshal Joe LeFors was well aware of this. The two men had met up and discussed the murder on at least two occasions prior to Horn meeting with him for the last time, the the two day "interview". It was really two days of drunken bragging baited on by LeFors.

Horn did some short cattle drives/cowboying during the late summer. But, from late September to late December Horn had stayed with his great friend John Coble a rancher of some means at the time. Coble very much admired Tom for his frontiersman toughness.

At that time Coble was asked to present the following letter to Tom, by LeFors:

Miles City, Montana
Dec. 28th 1901

Joe LeFors Esq.
Cheyenne
Friend Joe

I want a good man to do some secret work. And want a man that I can trust. And he will have to be a man not known in this country. The nature of this, there is a gang over on the Big Moon River that are stealing cattle and we purpose [propose] to fit the man out as a wolfer and let him go into that country (and wolf).

And if he is the right kind of man he can soon get in with the gang. He will have to be a man that can take care of himself in any kind of country.

The pay will be $125.00 per month and I believe a man can make good wages besides.
Joe if you know of anyone who you think will fill the place let me know. There will be several months work.

Yours Truly
W. D. Smith

P.S. Man will have to report in Helena.

Horn responded immediately:

Iron Mountain Ranch Company
Bosler Wyoming
Jan. 1st 1902

Joe LeFors Esq.
Cheyenne, Wyoming

Dear Joe,

Recd yours from W. D. Smith Miles City Mont. by Johnny Coble today. I would like to take up that work and I feel sure I can give Mr. Smith satisfaction. I don’t care how big or bad his men are or how many of them there are, I can handle them. They can scarcely be any worse than the Brown’s Hole Gang and I stopped cow stealing there in one summer. If Mr. Smith cares to give me the work I would like to meet them as soon as commencement so as to get into the country and get located before Summer.

The wages $125.00 per month will be all satisfactory to me. Put me in communication with Mr. Smith whom I know well by reputation and I can guarantee him the recommendation of every cow man in the State of Wyoming in this line of work.

You may write Mr. Smith for me that I can handle his work and do it with less expense in the shape of lawyer and witness fees than any man in the business.

Joe you yourself know what my reputation is although we have never been out together.

Yours truly
Tom Horn

So, the trap was baited and Tom took the bait. Greed and a desire to get away from it all were motivations for Tom. His letters of the time make it clear that he sees the old ways as being phased out and his own extinction nearing.

How'd you like to own those two letters presented above!?

LeFors was the guy in Butch Cassidy's (Paul Newman's) question, "Who are those guys?"

Horn was a full on cowboy/scout/killer legend. I haven't mentioned this but evidently he was a rodeo champ as well. . .

With Arizona Charlie a showman and rodeo fellow. Arizona stood 6' 4 1/2" tall, Horn was a huge for the time 6'2", this photo is not 100% but it is believed to be a likeness of Tom Horn from around 1886:

http://img41.imageshack.us/img41/6114/arizonacharlietomhorn.jpg

Arizona Charlie at show/rodeo:

http://img339.imageshack.us/img339/5199/arizonacharliehorse.jpg

It seems a reasonable place to mention a few things about Tom Horn to give some more of a backdrop. Stay tuned. We'll go through some background information and then review the sparse but fairly powerful circumstantial evidence. After that, we'll look at the case in a semi-analytic way and leave it to your own speculation as to guilt or innocence, and I'll tell you what became of Tom's loyal friend John Coble.

[Gibson]

Okay, tonight I'm going to post up some flash quotes and recollections from folks who were there; folks who knew Tom Horn.

The Governor of Wyoming via Mr. Irvine, via Mr. Penrose's "Recollections":

In 1914, Philadelphia physician Charles Penrose, who briefly accompanied the 1892 invasion of Johnson County but left before the killing began, wrote his recollections. Penrose included a vivid description of Horn as he was in 1895, as told to him by W. C. “Billy” Irvine, president of the Wyoming Stock Growers Association during the 1890s.

At the time, Wyoming Governor W.A. Richards was experiencing cattle thefts on his own ranges in northwest Wyoming. As Penrose recounts Irvine’s story, Richards and Irvine encountered each other walking toward the Capitol, where both the governor and the S[t]ock Growers Association had offices at the time:

When we reached the building he said, “Come into my office; I want to see you.” He immediately laid his troubles at the ranch before me [Irvine told Penrose], and we discussed the situation quite fully.

He finally said he would like to meet Tom Horn, but hesitated to have him come to the Governor’s office. I said, “Stroll in my office at the other end of the hall at three o’clock this afternoon, and I will have him there….” [At the meeting] the Governor was quite nervous, so was I, Horn perfectly cool. He talked generally, was careful of his ground; he told the Governor he would either drive every rustler out of Big Horn County, or take no pay other than $350 advanced to buy two horses and a pack outfit. When he had finished the job to the Governor’s satisfaction, he should receive $5,000, because, he said in conclusion, “whenever everything else fails, I have a system which never does.” He placed no limit on the number of men to be gotten rid of. This almost stunned the Governor. He immediately showed an inclination to shorten the interview.... [After Horn left] the Governor said to me, “So that is Tom Horn! A very different man from what I expected to meet. Why, he is not bad‑looking, and is quite intelligent; but a cool devil, ain’t he?”

Tom awaits death. . . handbraided "twisted horsehair lead rope"

http://uwacadweb.uwyo.edu/robertshistory/Hyperlinks/Tom%20Horn%20braiding%20rope.jpg

The end of the world for "Texas Matt" Rash and "****** Isom" Dart:

"In Brown's Hole a former Texas cowboy, Matt Rash established a small ranch. Rash left Texas at age of 12. He later worked for the Middlesex Cattle Co. After it failed, he worked for the Circle K. Rash then established his own Ranch in Brown's Hole. where his initial stock came from is unknown, but his credit was good enough that he was able to borrow sufficient funds from the First National Bank of Rock Springs to expand his herds. Later he purchased additional lands. Bovine Kings and small settlers do not mix. One year along the Yampa, large ranches had placed so many cattle that they ground the grass to dust. Nevertheless large numbers of Two Bar cattle attempted to overwhelm the valley. Later, Haley in one effort to drive out the settlers, drove 5,000 head into Brown's Hole. In retaliation, some of Haley's cattle were driven off a cliff over the Green River to drown below. Others in the valley attempted to resolve the problem by doing away with grass by raising sheep. Nevertheless, Haley's cattle persisted in their efforts to be absorbed into local herds. Haley on roundups would not, contrary to usual practice, provide food for reps of other outfits or allow their bedrolls to be carried on his hoodlum wagons.

Soon, warnings similar to those which had previously appeared along the Upper Chug began to appear advising various individuals to leave the area.

On July 8, 1900, a tall stanger going by the name of "James Hicks," shared a meal with Matt Rash at his cabin in Brown's Hole. Hicks earlier in the year had worked for Rash on the spring roundup. After participating in Rash's hospitality, Hicks arose from the supper table and left Rash's cabin. Shortly thereafter Rash emerged from his cabin and was killed with a single shot. Rash's mare was also killed. Rash had managed to crawl back into the cabin and his bunk. There before dying, he unsuccessfully attempted to write a massage on the back of an enveloe using his own blood as ink. Rash was engaged to be married a nearby rancher, Ann Bassett. Bassett accused Hicks to his face of having murdered Rash. Hicks and neighbors laughed the accusation off. The murder went unsolved.

Three months later on October 4, 1900, Isom Dart (also spelled "Isham"), emerged from a cabin he was sharing with six others. A shot rang out, and Dart fell dead. The culprit was never seen by the occupants of the cabin. The next day, two 30-30 shells were found at the base of a tree where it was believed that the murderer had lain in wait. Hicks was the only one in the area to use a 30-30. Dart was popularly believed to be a rustler named Ned Huddleston, the sole survivor of the "Tip Gault" gang. The gang, which had rustled cattle in the Saratoga area, was wiped out in a gun battle. Huddleston had survived only because he was out of camp that night. Dart was also suspected of rustling, having had three indictments returned against him in Sweetwater County. No conviction, however, ever resulted. It is believed that Dart used a method of wet branding to obscure prior brands. Wet branding involved putting a wet gunny sack on a branding iron over the prior brand. The previous brand will then be scalded and when the scab forms, the ridges from the prior brand will come off with the scab."

James Hicks=Tom Horn, of course.

EXACTLY how Horn worked: He moved in, got the lay of the land, and surveyed people and their routine movement over that land. He then issued warnings anonymously to the rustlers and after they ignored them, he executed them. That is just a prominent example. He did the same OFTEN. The seminal "Wild Bunch" historian, Charles Kelly, entitled his chapter on Horn, "One Man Army". Indeed.

During his years with the Pinkertons, multiple sources claim he killed 17 men. Maybe so; likely so. He left the Pinkertons after being accused of being involved in a robbery. "Toms separation from the Pinkerton’s was not due to his use of deadly force, but rather that he was accused of committing a robbery in Nevada, while in the agency’s employment. In a book by a Charlie Siringo’s he quotes “William A. Pinkerton told me that Tom Horn was guilty of the crime, but that his people could not allow him to go to prison while in their employ.” Tom Horn’s tracking abilities and the fact that he was a very talented agent could not hide the fact he ha a dark side that could be easily accessed."

Adios rustlers, Rash left; Dart center:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/isomdart2.jpg

Dart's Cabin:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/isomdartcabin.jpg

Read this VERY carefully! These are the exact words of Tom Horn discussing chasing some bandits, one of which was the NOTORIOUS outlaw known as "Peg-Leg" Watson.

"Eventually all the sheriffs posses quit and then Mr.
W. A. Pinkerton and Mr. McParland told Shores and me
to go at em. We took up the trail where I had left it
several days before and we never left it till we got the
robbers.

They had crossed the Sangre de Cristo range, come
down by the Villa Grove iron mines, and crossed back
to the east side of the Sangre de Cristos at Mosca pass,
then on down through the Huerfano Canon, out by Cu-
charas, thence down east of Trinidad. They had dropped
into Clayton, N. M., and got into a shooting scrape there
in a gin mill. They then turned east again toward the
"Neutral Strip" and close to Beaver City, then across
into the "Pan Handle" by a place in Texas called Ochil-
tree, the county seat of Ochiltree county. They then
headed toward the Indian Territory, and crossed into it
below Canadian City. They then swung in on the head
of the Wa****a River in the Territory, and kept down
this river for a long distance.

We finally saw that we were getting close to them,
as we got in the neighborhood of Paul s Valley. At
Wa****a station we located one of them in the house of
a man by the name of Wolfe. The robber s name was
Burt Curtis. Shores took this one and came on back to
Denver, leaving me to get the other one if ever he came
back to Wolfe s.

After several days of waiting on my part, he did
come back, and as he came riding up to the house I
stepped out and told him some one had come! He was
"Peg Leg" Watson, and considered by every one in Colo
rado as a very desperate character. I had no trouble
with him. "

Did you read that last sentence? "I had no trouble with him." Well, here's the truth.

"In one noted encounter with in the notorious Hole-in-the-Wall bastion, Horn single-handedly captured a bandit known as Peg Leg Watson (alias McCoy). Watson had robbed a mail train with his gang and Horn had discovered him [after days of tracking that defied belief! Horn could track a snake across pine needles! See above in his account where his partner had taken one outlaw back, already.] living [hiding] in a lonely cabin high in the hills."

At first light, Horn yelled for Peg Leg to give up. Peg Leg reportedly laughed and swung open the door with two sixshooters cocked and primed, he stepped into the doorway. Horn as cool as any man who ever lived, emerged from behind a boulder with his Winchester in the crook of his arm but clearly ready to rain death if need be. The man never missed a step, walked steady toward the two cannons and never lost eye contact with Peg Leg. It froze him. Peg Leg later told others that Horn's courage shook him. Horn disarmed him and took him in. ******!

One of Tom's earlier tasks was that of civilian tracker and interpreter for the US Army: Here is an image of talks with General Crook and Geronimo in Mexico. Horn was there. Some say it is Horn's foot:

http://img687.imageshack.us/img687/9158/geronimoembudos.jpg

General Crook's Staff:

http://img607.imageshack.us/img607/1985/gencrookstaff.jpg

"That's Tom Horn, third from left, kneeling, in what appears to be the same white shirt! Notice how cowboy he looks for that time. most of the other guys look like Victorian packers, but Horn is dang cowboy lookin'."

Tom Horn was also prominent in the "Johnson County War" where cattle barons/bullies and homesteaders/rustlers, faced off, as usual. This occurred in April 1892 in Johnson County, Wyoming. The "Wyoming Stock Growers Association" brought in a group of "regulators" to take out 70 ranchers or rustlers, depending on your point of view. Horn is generally credited with being one of the four shooters who took out the very popular and well liked Nate Champion. There were several men who fired heavily on the small group of ranchers, upwards of 50. Four "ranchers" were present at Champion's place; the BRAVE Nate Champion kept a journal during the battle, here are the words of a real cowboy who knew how to use a sixgun, as a matter of fact I have read that he alone killed four of the "regulators":

"Me and Nick was getting breakfast when the attack took place. Two men was with us- Bill Jones and another man. The old man went after water and did not come back. His friend went to see what was the matter and he did not come back. Nick started out and I told him to look out, that I thought there was someone at the stable and would not let them come back.

"Nick is shot but not dead yet. He is awful sick. I must go and wait on him.

"It is now about two hours since the first shot. Nick is still alive.

"Boys, there is bullets coming like hail.

"Them fellows is in such shape I can"t get at them.

"They are shooting from the stable and river and back of the house. Nick is dead, he died about 9 o'clock. I see a smoke down at the stable. I think they have fired it. I don't think they intend to let me get away this time.

"Boys, I feel pretty lonesome just now, I wish there was someone here with me so we could watch all sides at once.

"I heard them splitting wood. I guess they are going to fire the house to-night.

"I think I will make a break when night comes if alive." The regulators then took a wagon and loaded it with flammables and shoved it into the cabin. Champion's final message written in the notebook:

"The house is all fired. Goodbye boys, if I never see you again."

—Nathan D. Champion

With that, Nate charged out the back door sixshooter barking in one hand and his blade in the other. It took 28 rounds to satisfactorily dispatch this brave cowboy. A helluva man.

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/champ1.jpg


Cool image, eh? Nothing like looking dead into the past.

This ends the background. Let me add this. Tom's weapon of choice was the Winchester rifle. In later years his caliber of choice was the "30-30 Winchester".

[Wasn't Nate Champion a helluva man? Those journal entries are just jaw dropping cool to me. Written in frontier lingo by a truly desperate man. He haf his jaw set and his chin to the wind, I'll tell ya. Tough, tough, tough man.

In this image posted above, Nate is in the center. Note the sixgun riding on his hip? I think it's ivory handled. Total guesses on my part as it may be something else. Damn cool, image if ya ask me. . . another:

http://bay-journal.com/bay/1he/writings/imgs/wellman-geo-champion-gang.jpg

Bar C hands, Nate Champion is number (1).

[Gibson]

The best of the circumstantial evidence was this:

"Witnesses were adduced that Horn left a sweater in a shoe store in Laramie City which was covered with dirt. The owner and the clerk were so sure that the individual leaving the sweater was Horn that they mailed it to Horn at the Laramie County Jail care-of Sheriff Smalley."

http://www.leverguns.com/articles/staley/images/map.jpg

Thin? Well, it went to how the body was found. Now for some more cool stuff.

I FOUND HORN'S APPEAL!

Willie Nickell had left Thursday morning but as I guess was the standards of the time, no one worried when he didn't arrive home that night! Odd to me, but I guess things were different in the old days. Anyway, his mother said he left about 6:30 or 6:40 am and he was shortly thereafter seen at the corral by his father, he was readying to go on an errand for his dad to employ a sheepherder. I suppose they thought he'd taken longer than thought and had camped for the night to ride in in the morning.

Shortly Kels Nickell and his companion, Mr. Apperson heard three shots coming from the general direction of the corral. A little odd but not alarming to them. They ignored it.

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/willienick01.jpg

Here are the words written by Justice Potter, Horn v. State, Wyoming Reports, Apr. 1903:

"The following morning Friday July 19 1901 at about 8 o clock Fred a younger brother took the cows out going in the direction and as we understand along the road traveled by Villie the day before and he soon returned crying and stated that illie was killed at the gate Mr Nickell and Mr Apperson started innnediately for the gate and they were shortly followed by the brother in law aforesaid and Mrs Nickell The body was found lying on its back in the road with the head turned toward the house The theory of the prosecution is that the boy had fallen on his face and that the body had been turned over owing to its situation and the fact that the clothing was saturated with blood and gravel was sticking to the face and clothing and that was the opinion of the witnesses who discovered the body and seems also to have been the opinion of at least some of the physicians called to give expert testimony Under the head of the body was a small stone or a little rock as expressed in the testimony which appeared to have been placed there by someone The body was found at a point sixty five feet from the gate which was open and lying down Near the body was a pool of blood and another pool was found at or very close to the gate and between the gate and the body patches or spots of blood were found in the road Ve conceive it to be an undisputed theory in the case at least every indication seems to point to it that the boy was shot when he was standing at or very near the gate and that he ran toward the house falling where his body was discovered or close to that spot The missiles entered the body on the left side passing entirely through it The wounds upon the body were described with accuracy by the physicians who conducted the post mortem examination ne wound penetrated the chest approximately on the axillary line striking the fifth rib taking an inward forward and slightly downward course producing a large wound of exit at the juncture of the sixth rib with the sternum and the point of entrance of the other wound was three inches posterior to the left axillary line and two inches above the ileum taking an inward and slightly downward course penetrating the abdominal viscera making a wound of exit one inch above the crest of the ileum and two inches anterior to the right axillary line."

Can you believe this? The real record from the appeal. Here's the full "confession":

"After Lafors and Horn entered the marshal's office the former handed the latter a letter remarking Here is your letter of introduction to Mr Vt G Pruitt which reads as follows and he proceeded to read it aloud Then Horn said I want to go on the Union Pacific I know the route and I don t know the others Joe meaning Lafors said It is about as near one way as the 0ther and you will get there about the same time After one or two remarks on this line Horn said Well Joe do you _ know anything about the nature of the work I will have to do up there Joe said Tom they are good people I have worked for them five or six years you will have to get right in among them and gain their confidence and show them you are all right Horn said I don t want to be making reports to anybody at any time I will simply have one report to make and that will be my final report If a man has to make reports all the time they will catch the wisest on earth These people are not afraid of shooting are they Joe said No they are not afraid of shooting Horn said I shoot too much I know you know me when it comes to shooting I will protect the people I am working for but I have never got my employers into trouble yet over anything I have done A man can t be too careful because you don t want any officers to know what you are doing Joe said Tom I know you are a good man for the place You are the best man to cover up your trail I ever saw In the Willie ickell killing I could never find your trail and I pride n1yself 0n being a trailer Horn said No I left no trail The only way to cover up your trail is to go barefooted Joe said Vhere was your horse Horn replied He was a long ways off Lafors said I would be afraid to leave my horse so far away you might get cut off from him to which Horn replied You don t take much chances These people are unorganized and anyway I depend on this gun of mine The only thing I was ever afraid of was that I would be compelled to kill an officer or a man I didn t want to but I would do everything to keep from being seen but if he kept after me I would certainly kill him The conversation then continued as follows: Lafors I never knew why Villie Nickell was killed Was it because he was one of the victims named or was it compulsory Horn I think it was this way Suppose a man was in the big draw to the right of the gate you know where it is the draw that comes into the main creek below ickell's house where ickell was shot Well I suppose a man was in that and the kid came riding up 0n him from this way and suppose the kid started to run for the house and the fellow headed him off at the gate and killed him to keep him from going to the house and raising a hell of commotion That is the way I think it occurred Lafors T o1n you had your boots on when you ran across there to cut the kid off didn t you Horn No I was barefooted Lafors You didn t run across there barefooted Horn Yes I did Lafors How did you get your boots 0n after cutting up your feet I Iorn I generally have tcn days to rest after a job of that kind Joe do you remember the little girl Lafors Who do you mean Horn The school marm She was sure smooth people She wrote 1ne a letter as long as thc Governor's message telling n10 in detail everything asked by Stoll_ the prosecuting attorney Stoll thought I was going to prove an alibi but I fooled him I had a man on the outside keeping me in touch before I showed up with everything that was going 0n I got this letter from the girl the same day l got my summons to appear before the coroner's inquest Lafors Did the school marm tell everything she knew Horn Yes she did I would not tell an individual like her anything not me She told me to look out for you She said look out for Joe Lafors he is not all right look out for him he is trying to find out something I said what is there in this Lafors matter She said Miller didn t like him and said he would kill the if God would spare him long enough There is nothing to those Millers They are ignorant old jays They can t even appreciate a good joke The first time I met the girl was just before the killing of the kid Everything you know dates from the killing of the kid Lafors How many days was it before the killing of the kid Horn Three or four days maybe damned if I want to remember the dates She was there and of course we soon paired ourselves off Lafors Vhat nationality was she Horn She was one quarter Jap one half Korean and the other German She talks almost every language on earth Lafors Tom didn t Jim Dixon carry you grub Horn No no one carried me grub _ Lafors Tom how can a man that weighs 204 pounds go without eating anything so long. Tom Well I do For some times I go for some days without a mouthful Sometimes I have a little bacon along Lafors You must get terribly hungry Tom Horn Yes sometimes I get so hungry that I could kill my mother for some grub but I never quit a job until I get my man Lafors What kind of a gun have you got Horn I used a 30 30 Winchester Lafors Tom do you think that will hold up as well as a 30 40 Horn No but I like to get close to my man The closer the better Lafors How far was Willie Nickell killed Horn About 300 yards It was the best shot that I ever made and the dirtiest trick I ever done I thought at one time he would get away Lafors How about the shells Did you carry them away Horn You bet your life I did Lafors Tom do you need any more money for this n tr1p Horn No If I get a pass I will not need any more money If I have to buy a ticket I must have a little more money but today is Sunday and I will have to wait until tomorrow Lafors ell it is after noon and I will go home and see you again this afternoon or this evening when we can talk this matter over Horn All right I will be back I want to know all about these people before I go up there Lafors Tom let us go down stairs and get a drink I could always see your work clear but I want you to tell me why you killed the kid as it a mistake Horn ell I will tell you all about that when I come back from Montana It is too new yet Horn and Lafors then left the office but they returned in the afternoon when the conversation was continued as follows Horn Joe we have only been together about fifteen minutes and I will bet there is some people saying VI hat are these planning now and who are they going to kill next We have come up here because there is no other place to go If you go to the Inter Ocean Hotel to sit down and talk a few minutes someone comes in and says Let us have a drink and before you know it you are standing up talking and my feet get so tired it almost kills me I am 44 years 3 months and 27 days old and if I get killed now I have the satisfaction of knowing I have lived about fifteen ordinary lives I would like to have had somebody who saw my past and could picture it to the public It would be the most interesting reading in the country and if we could describe to the author our feelings at different times it would l e better still The experience of my life or the first man I killed was when I was only 26 years old He was a coarse son Lafors How much did you get for killing these fellows In the Powell and Lewis case you got $600 apiece You killed Lewis in the corral with a six shooter I would like to have seen the expression on his face when you shot him Horn He zi 1s the scaredest son saw How did you come to know that Joe Lafors I have known everything you have done Tom for a great many years I know where you were paid this money Horn Yes I was paid this money on the train between Cheyenne and Denver Lafors Why did you put the rock under the kid's head after you killed him That is one of your marks isn t it Horn Yes that is the way I hang out my sign to collect my money for a job of this kind Lafors Have you got your money yet for the killing of Nickell Horn I got that before I did the job Lafors You got $500 for that Why did you cut the price Horn I got $2,100 Lafors How much is that a man Horn That is for three dead men and one man shot at five times Killing men is my specialty I look at it as a business proposition and I think I have a corner on the market.

It appears that when they returned to the office in the afternoon the conversation at first consisted of stories told by each about various troubles they had been connected with and such stories concerned the killing of people, but nothing relevant to the case at hand.

Joe LeFors:

http://www.tom-horn.com/tom-horn-images/Joe-LeFors-colorized.jpg

Amazing stuff, eh? You'll have to piece it together a bit as punctuation is lacking. My copy and paste skills are poor.

So what do you guys make of all this? To me, it is awesome. Suffice it to say this hung Horn. Guilty? Innocent? Not Guilty? Shot the kid by mistake? You call it. I have decided against analyzing the evidence and giving my opinion. You decide.

One thing I'll add there was a STRONG debate as to weapon, defense expert claimed it was a 45/90 and prosecution expert said it was a 30-30. Go figure.

Tom after a short escape from his cell, quickly grabbed. He is near center. Bicycles abound!:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/hornresc.jpg

[Gibson]

LIFE IS LIKE A MOUNTAIN RAILROAD

"The following eyewitness account of the hanging of Tom Horn was writen by John Charles Thompson, a reporter. His account was originally published in the Denver, Colorado, Posse of Westeners. Horn was executed with a new, and supposedly, more humane, method of hanging that relied on the emptying of a bucket of water to trigger the release of the trap door upon which the condemned man was standing:

"We newspapermen were crammed into a little space at the edge of the platform adjoining Horn's cell; the visiting sheriffs were marshaled on the first-tier level below. The Irwin brothers, flanked by guards, stood beside them. The executioners and a venerable Episcopal clergyman, Dr. George C. Rafter, an acquaintance of Horn, were on the gangway at the opposite edge of the platform. Beside the Irwins stood two physicians, Dr. George P. Johnston and Dr. John H. Conway. They were gentlemen of the highest integrity whom nothing could have induced to contribute to a criminal conspiracy.

Horn, his back against the cell grill, was half-reclining on his narrow bed, puffing a cigar. He was perfectly composed. His soft shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, this exposing the scar of the wound he had suffered in a fight at Dixon.

'Ready Tom,' said Proctor.

Horn arose, carefully placed his cigar on a cross reinforcement of the grill, strode firmly the few steps required to take him to the side of the gallows platform.

He nodded to the Irwins; sardonically scanned the peace officers below.

Ed,' he commented to Smalley, 'That's the sickest looking lot of damned sheriffs I ever seen.

'Would you like us to sing, Tom?' asked Charlie Irwin. ‘Yes, I'd like that,' responded Horn.

So, while Proctor buckled straps that bound Horn's arms and legs, the Irwins, each in a rich tenor, sang a rather lugubrious song popular on the range, Life Is Like a Mountain Railroad.

The clergyman read his church's prayer for the dying Horn, standing relaxed, listened without a tremor.

‘Would you like to say anything?' asked Smalley.‘No,' replied Horn.

‘Tom,' spoke up Charlie Irwin, ‘did you confess to the preacher?

No,' was the reply.

Proctor adjusted the noose, formed with the conventional knot of 13 wraps, to Horn's neck; drew a black hood over his head. Smal¬ley on one side and a friend of Horn, T. Joe Cahill, on the other, lifted the doomed man onto the trap.

Instantly the sibilant sound of running water permeated the breathless stillness; the instrument of death had begun to operate. To the straining ears of the listeners that little sound had the magnitude of that of a rushing torrent.

Smalley, his face buried in the crook of an arm resting against the gallows tree, was trembling.

‘What's the matter,' came in a calm tone through the black cap, getting nervous I might tip over?’

Seemingly interminable, the sound of escaping water ran on.

‘Joe,' said Horn, addressing Cahill, ‘they tell me you're married now. I hope you're doing well. Treat her right.'

Indubitably, he was the best composed man in that chamber of death.

Still the sinister sound of running water; then mercifully, the leaves of the trap parted with a crash and Horn's body hung through the opening.

Thirty-one seconds had elapsed since he had been lifted onto the trap!

He fell only four and one-half feet; his head and shoulders projected above the gallows floor. This drop was not sufficient; his neck was not broken. Proctor had feared to arrange a longer drop, apprehensive that stoppage of the fall of a body so heavy as Horn's might tear the head off. The slam of the massive hangman's knot against the side of Horn's skull knocked him into unconsciousness, however, and he did not suffer. For seventeen minutes the physicians with fingers on his pulse, felt impulses as a mighty heart labored on; then the pulse ceased.

Tom Horn was dead – unconfessed!"

John C. Coble lived only 11 years after Tom was hanged. He wrote the following to his wife and then shot himself:

"Elko, Nev., Dec. 4, 1914.

Dear Elise:

Believe me, I have tried to pull through. I am ALL IN, I AM ALL IN. Believe me - I am yours until the end, and I cannot make good.

Lovingly,

SIGNATURE (Illegible)"

"Coble then took his Smith and Wesson .32 revolver, walked into the ladies bathroom at the Commercial Hotel/Casino in Elko, Nevada, put the revolver to his head and pulled the trigger."

CLOSING

One should never discount the consequences of having powerful men who seek to disassociate themselves with you. In a way, Horn and Coble both are object lessons.

[Gibson]

Could you smell that acrid smell of gunpowder wafting by or the scent of old worn leather or the sound of a riata cutting the air or the jingle of Mexican spurs?

:)

Horn, of course, was in possession of a Winchester model 94 .30-30 (WCF). But indeed had owned a .45-60 and judging from the photo below likely still had one. The .30-30 eventually went to the crooners at Tom's necktie party. Evidently, after spending some time in a museum, it went back to the heirs of the singing brothers.

Cartridges found in Horn's pocket after his arrest:

http://www.tom-horn.com/tom-horn-images/tom-horn-bullets.jpg

"Tom Horn had a Winchester model 1894 .30-30 caliber in his possession when was arrested for the crime. However, there was a .45-60 cartridge in his pockets, along with a .30-40 Government cartridge and a .38-40 cartridge"

One hears a lot about the .38 WCF sixgun Tom had but I found this .45 DA that is in a private collection, that is supposed to have belonged to Tom. Hm. :)

http://images2.bridgemanart.com/cgi-bin/bridgemanImage.cgi/400wm.PNP.3280520.7055475/247644.jpg

[scattershot]

Interesting stuff. I have been to Matt Rash's cabin (or what's left of it) and it was pretty spooky to imagine Ol' Tom drawing a bead from a small rock outcrop about 40 yards from the front door.

Isom Dart's grave is not too far away, in a grove of aspen trees, with his name carved into the trunk of a tree.

All this is on Cold Spring Mountain, Colorado.

[Gibson]

Interesting stuff. I have been to Matt Rash's cabin (or what's left of it) and it was pretty spooky to imagine Ol' Tom drawing a bead from a small rock outcrop about 40 yards from the front door.

Isom Dart's grave is not too far away, in a grove of aspen trees, with his name carved into the trunk of a tree.

All this is on Cold Spring Mountain, Colorado.

Hi, scattershot:

It would be great if you had an image of the cabin, as well as Isom's grave/tree you could upload.

Thanks for the post. I appreciate the addition. Might not be as much interest as I originally thought. I'm glad you chimed in as it let's me know there are folks interested.

[Gibson]

For all of our left coast brethren, I am thinking of trying to work up something Jaoquin Murrieta.

If I can flesh out enough material, I'll give it a go.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/c/c8/JoaquinTheMountainRobber.jpg

[scattershot]

Hi, scattershot:

It would be great if you had an image of the cabin, as well as Isom's grave/tree you could upload.

Thanks for the post. I appreciate the addition. Might not be as much interest as I originally thought. I'm glad you chimed in as it let's me know there are folks interested.

I'll have to see if I can find it. It was quite a few years ago. I'll look for it and see if I can post it.

[Gibson]

Well, as most of you know Murrieta's life is so shrouded by legend and politically motivated demagoguery as to make it tough to flesh out the truth. We shall make an effort to see what we can see, I make no promises as to absolutely accuracy. I will winnow what I can from from the legendary exploits. Of course, flair will be kept, if possible ;)

http://www.cocohistory.org/murrieta-2.jpg

So what can we nail down? Not much.

To begin at the beginning seems reasonable. We know that Joaquin Murrieta (Murrietta) was born in 1830 near Caborca, in the pueblo of Trincheras, Sonora. A group of his descendants is working to correct what they see as historical inaccuracies regarding his legacy, and are also doing charitable works in his name. His parents were Joaquin and Rosalia Murrieta. (His mother had a prior marriage to a man named Carrillo.) Joaquin would, later in life, refer to himself as Joaquin Carrillo, leading much confusion among historians.

Misplaced hero.

To give some backdrop to account for the "hero" legend that has grown up around Murrieta- and indeed many of the old time badmen who "represented" their own constituent group, whether appropriated or representing themselves, as such- we have this from The Overland Monthly of November, 1895:

"Right or wrong, many of the Spaniards and Mexicans of California after the conquest refused to accept the fact that the war was over, and believed that it was no crime to kill an American in open conflict. This mistaken patriotism easily led to brigandage, and bands of from half a dozen to fifty and one hundred were organized and terrorized the people for nearly a generation. At times Murrieta had several " divisions " in the field, each numbering ten, twenty, or more, according to the territory to be covered. His immediate command sometimes aggregated a hundred men, and this, with several detachments under fearless lieutenants, formed a formidable army in those days, when the country was sparsely settled, and had no telegraph or other means of rapid communication."

Such numbers as 100 members of his brigand (read gang) are dubious but one can get a sense of how he is revered by the Hispanics. Nonsense on stilts. But they created what they needed and indeed they had a very rough existence in the area at the time.

William Mero article from cocohistory.com:

"The young Joaquin eventually married Rosa Feliz of Vayoreca. They, along with Jesus Murrieta and Rosa’s three brothers, went to California upon news of the gold strike. Rosa’s brother, Claudio Feliz, began gold mining with Anglo partners near Sonora while Joaquin and his bride eventually moved to Niles Canyon, then part of Contra Costa County. In these early years there is evidence that Joaquin worked as a vaquero near Oakley and Brentwood in 1850 and as a mestenero (mustang catcher).

From court records and newspaper accounts, the first we hear of the Murrieta - Feliz clan’s brush with the law was in 1849 when Claudio was arrested for stealing another miner’s gold. The evidence of his guilt proved overwhelming. However Claudio was able to escape from the Stockton jail and launch a new career. By 1850 he was the leader of one of the most vicious bands of outlaws to have ever preyed upon the Anglo, Oriental and Hispanic inhabitants of California.

The first known attack by Claudio Feliz’s gang occurred in Contra Costa County at the John Marsh Rancho (Los Meganos) during the night of December 5, 1850. Under the cover of darkness, twelve armed men sacked the Marsh rancho. William Harrington, an unarmed Anglo visitor, was run down, shot and then lanced to death. Surprised by the sudden onslaught Marsh and his servants were quickly subdued and robbed.

Ten days later the ranch of Digby Smith near San Jose was hit. After everyone was tied up, Digby’s skull was crushed, another settler had his head split open by an axe and the cook’s head was severed. The ranch house was burned to the ground. In the ashes were found the blackened corpses of his victims. Over twelve desperadoes including seven Anglos formed this band of vicious killers."

Joaquin shortly joined this outfit of bloodthirsty murderers. But after a short period, he left the gang in the late summer of 1851. Not before participating in at least one robbery and several murders. He went to Los Angeles and immediately began warming the bed of Ana Benitz who had come from New Mexico.

In the meantime Claudio Feliz and his gang had robbed a fellow Hispanic named Agapito and with that his countrymen turned on him. They ran him to ground and shot him to pieces.

The remnants of his gang went back to Joaquin Murrieta and sought leadership. It was now his gang.

Image of the raid on John Marsh's Ranch December 5, 1850:

http://www.cocohistory.org/murrieta-1.jpg

[Gibson]

[An aside, from 1852, found in Miners & Business Men's Directory 1856: The notorious robber and murderer, Joaquin (Murieta, age 20 [sic]), had his head quarters here, and was well known to many of our citizens as a desperate and dangerous man. At this time, he had not commenced his career of wholesale murder and robbery, but was a "monte dealer" and had a number of villainous scamps connected with him in fleecing his less informed countrymen and others out of their daily earnings.]

Joined in Los Angeles by Reyes, brother of Claudio Feliz, the gang set about the business of robbing settlers, wagon trains and any gold shipments they could locate. It has been stated that they killed upwards of "22 Chinamen" and 10-15 Anglo-Americans. It seems one of the first Anglo-Americans was a rather prominent citizen, State Militia Major General Joshua Bean, Murrieta and Reyes Feliz both shot him to death. Outrages, the Los Angeleans formed a vigilance committee and soon captured Reyes, who was summarily hanged much to the delight of all God fearing citizens of Los Angeles. Now Joaquin Murrieta began his bloody crime spree that would leave his name infamous among the citizenry.

William Mero:

"Because they tended to be unarmed and docile, Chinese miners were a favorite target of Joaquin’s gang. There also appears to have been racial hatred associated with many of these crimes. Many Chinese were killed; apparently just for the pleasure it gave the outlaws. Usually the Asians had their throats slit. Protected by the large Hispanic population, the Mexican bandits killed 22 men in two months, most of them Chinese. By now Joaquin’s face was too well known in the mining camps for his personal safety. During March 1853 the gang vanished into the wilderness of the remote San Joaquin Valley. "

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/9/95/JoaquinMurrieta-headflyer-02.jpg

[Gibson]

A final example of the bravado exemplified by these bandits is quoted from a comment by True West Magazine editor Bob Boze Bell:

"Yes, I just read a similar incident (or, perhaps it's the one you mention) where Joaquin and his gang are robbing some Chinese they have waylaid on the roadway. A posse approaches and the leader of the lawmen said they continued robbing the Chinese miners until the posse, coming at a gallop, was within 400 yards, then they casually mounted up on their splendid horses and easily outran the attackers. The lawman later reported: "'They were so well mounted that they beat us running all to hell."'

"On May 11, 1853, Governor of California John Bigler signed a legislative act creating the "California State Rangers," led by Captain Harry Love (a former Texas Ranger). The California Rangers were paid $150 a month and stood a chance to share the $1,000 governor's reward. On July 25, 1853, a group of Rangers encountered a band of armed Mexican men near Pacheco Pass in San Benito County, 50 miles (80 km) from Monterey. A confrontation took place, and two of the Mexicans were killed. One was claimed to be Murrieta, and the other was thought to be Manuel Garcia, also known as Three-Fingered Jack, one of Joaquin's most notorious associates."

http://www.columbiagazette.com/joquincarillo1853.jpg

So now we have Captain Love of the NEWLY formed California Rangers and a group of his men, to include the noted, Captain Bill Burns on the hunt. And indeed they hunted. They found Murrieta and his band encamped here:

http://img819.imageshack.us/img819/9934/cantuacreek02.jpg

Dworkin book review:

"Love has been called a "drunken brute," a lying braggart, and a fraud, but Secrest portrays a complex and multi-dimensional pioneer figure. Love came to California as early as 1839, and returned to stay during the gold rush. This followed his stalwart service as a volunteer and employee of the U. S. Army along the Rio Grande during the tumultuous 1840s. Love was an imposing figure who could organize a hunt with purpose and tenacity. Yet he was capable of appallingly bad choices in many aspects of his personal life, particularly in his glory-less final years. He made poor business decisions in later life while attempting to prosper at his sawmill and farm, and he especially erred in his choice to settle down with the `wife from hell.' This last poor choice cost him his life, when he provoked his own killing by the mysterious Christian "Fred" Eiversen. "

DEATH OF MURRIETA?

Pendergast article from an internet blog:

Throughout June and most of July they searched the gold country and the San Joaquin Valley in vain, capturing a few horse thieves who had nothing to do with the gang they were supposed to find. They went as far west as San Juan Bautista, then south into the coastal mountain range. Riding east through that range, they reached the edge of the Tulare plains on the morning of July 25, in an area called Arroyo Cantua, more or less southwest of Fresno, where they spied the smoke of a campfire about three miles out on the plain unfolding before them.

An August 4 letter from Love to Bigler details his version of the encounter that followed as they rode up to the Mexican’s camp:

'“Joaquin was immediately recognized and on his being aware of the fact, immediately sprang to his horse and endeavored to escape. He was closely pursued ... and his horse shot from under him. When he took flight on foot and he being wounded, some of the men shot him dead before going far ... the remaining part of the band, who fought bravely while retreating, each of them being armed with two six shooters and three of their numbers killed, while the remainder escaped, some badly wounded. Immediately after returning from the pursuit we beheaded Joaquin and one of his principal men, and I dispatched Captain Burns and John Sylvester to Fort Miller (being the nearest point) with the heads, in order to be put in liquor for preservation.”'

How about this account from the Milwaukee Daily Sentinel (Milwaukee, Wisconsin) on Sept. 16, 1853:

Capture and Death of Joaquin—
Interesting Particulars

Stockton, August 11, 1853.

Capt. Love arrived here yesterday, and last evening we listened with much interest to a detail of his scout after the celebrated robber, Joaquin Murietta. The Rangers, headed by the Captain, passed through San Jose, and to throw any spies of the outlaw’s band on the wrong scent, he talked as if he had certain information that Joaquin was at Los Angeles, and that he expected to catch him there, also; that after his capture, he would scour the plains below for his band. These plans were disclosed to some that they suspected, and were no doubt conveyed to Joaquin. It is Capt. L.’s opinion that the report of these spies threw the robber into his hands.

...Making their way secretly through San Jose, and by San Juan, until entirely clear of observation, the Rangers struck then, under cover of night, for the Contra Costa range of mountains, and entered their defiles. Here for a number of days, they threaded the numerous passes, now crossing a ridge, and again cautiously traversing its valleys. In many places they found corrals, and bands of horses bearing all description of brands. The third day before the capture of their chief, the Rangers came upon a band of Mexicans in the mountains, numbering seventy men, whom they have no doubt was Joaquin’s principal band.

These campers in the mountains had with them about six hundred head of fine horses. To the Captain’s inquiry of what they were doing there, some replied that they were hunting mustangs and other cattle. Love had with him a facsimile of several brands of missing horses, known to have been stolen, and on passing among the stock of this party, he found ten horses bearing the marks in his possession. A portion of them no member of the gang of seventy would own; they said they were strays that had in some manner got in with their caballada; the other portion of the stolen animals they said they had received from Mexicans going to the lower country. It should be remembered that the Ranger party thus boldly searching this robber band’s herd only numbered fourteen.

Early in the morning, three days after meeting the large party above mentioned, Capt. L. and his men saddled up to visit an arroyo where there was water, and on approaching it observed smoke, which made them move with caution. They got close upon a sentry guarding a camp before he discovered them, and as he gave the alarm, Joaquin, who was lying down, leaped up, leaving his pistol in his blanket, and ran for his horse, threw a noose over the animal’s nose with a lariat and mounted him bare-backed. The Rangers had them surrounded. A parley was held for a few moments, during which Joaquin dictated to two of his men answers to Love’s questions. Capt. Burns, who was familiar with the robber’s countenance, immediately pointed him out and the fight commenced.

Joaquin, while fleeing to avoid the shots aimed at him, would drop, Comanche-like, upon the side of his horse, showing only one limb, and the ball having passed, he would resume his seat with the activity of a cat. He made a dash for a perpendicular bluff some fifteen feet high, which overlooked an arroyo, and leaped his horse down upon its dry bed, thinking that none would follow his dangerous jump. But a young Ranger named Henderson followed him, firing his pistol into the robber’s horse as he leaped. The outlaw’s gallant animal had been wounded several times, and after the leap, he made a few ineffectual attempts to run, but at length sank down. Joaquin then fled a few yards on foot; he like his horse had received several wounds, and before he had run thirty yards, two of the Rangers who had cut him off from a ravine fired again into his body, when he fell. Holding up his right hand through which a ball had passed, he said “No tiro mas—yo los muerto.” Shoot no more—I am dead.

Certainly it has been asserted that the head belonged to another of "the five Joaquins" that were mentioned in the order by Governor Bigler. It is not mentioned in the above quotation BUT it is very clear that there was more than one bandit roaming the area name "Joaquin". But it seems clear that the real issue was one Joaquin Murrieta. Thus I have given rather short shrift to the number of "Joaquins".

Bob Boze Bells depicts Murrieta's daring escape attempt:

http://img811.imageshack.us/img811/379/cantuaqcreek04.jpg

Let no chance to bring politics into an issue go undone. Read this from Pedergast's article, he quotes the Los Angeles Star from August 18, 1853:

"As early as July 30, newspapers hostile to Bigler began attacking the claim. One of the most skeptical was the Los Angeles Star, which dropped a bombshell on August 18 :

“A few weeks ago a party of native Californians and Sonorans started for the Tulare Valley, for the express and avowed purpose of running mustangs. Three of the party have since returned and report that they were attacked by a party of Americans, and that the balance of their party, four in number, had been killed; that Joaquin Valenzuela, one of them, was killed as he was endeavoring to escape and that his head was cut off by his captors as a trophy. It is too well known that Joaquin Murieta is not the person killed by Capt. Harry Love’s company. ... The head recently exhibited in Stockton bears no resemblance to that individual and this is positively asserted by those who have seen the real Murieta and the spurious head.”

Harry Love:

http://morro-bay.com/morsels/manny-silva/ca-rangers/index_files/image004.jpg

Handwritten muster of California Rangers:

http://www.militarymuseum.org/Resources/CalStateRangers2.JPG

Wording of statue (starting at "Section 1") creating CR:

"By 1853, his plundering and countless murders had reached such alarming proportions, that citizens from all parts of the State petitioned Governor Bigler to organize a military company to capture Murietta and his gang of marauding outlaws. The State Legislature on May 17, 1853, passed the following act which authorized the raising of a company of Rangers:

"The people of the State of California represented in Senate and Assembly do enact as follows:

Section 1: Captain Harry S. Love is hereby authorized and empowered to raise a company of mounted Rangers, not to exceed twenty men, and muster them into the service of the State for the period of three months unless sooner disbanded by order of the Governor, for the purpose of capture the party or gang of robbers commanded by the five Joaquin whose names are, Joaquin Murietta, Joaquin O'Comorenia, Joaquin Valenzuela, Joaquin Betellier, and Joaquin Carrillo, and their banded associates.

Section 2: Said Rangers shall furnish at their own expense the necessary horses, arms, and equipment, and ammunition for the purpose named in the first section and shall receive from the State of California the sum of one hundred and fifty dollars each month while in actual service during these said tree months, which shall be in full payment for all services rendered under the provisions of this act.

Section 3: The Comptroller troller of State is hereby directed to audit the account of said Rangers for their services upon the certificate of their commander and shall draw his warrant upon the Treasurer of State, who is directed to pay out the same out of any monies in the Treasury not otherwise appropriated.

Section 4: It shall be the duty of the said Rangers upon taking any prisoners to deliver them safely to the County authorities for trial, and upon making recovery of any stolen cattle, horses or other property to deliver the same to the authorities of the County within which they may have been taken, and public notice shall be given as required by law. (1)

On May 28, 1853, in Quartsburg, Mariposa County, Captain Love organized the California State Rangers. This company was composed of twenty men all of whom had served under Captain Love in the Mexican War."

An anecdote:

http://www.hcaauctions.com/LotImages/2/570_lg.jpeg

"Autograph Letter Signed “Jos(eph) G. Eastland, on Donahue’s Union Iron and Brass Foundry letterhead, San Francisco, Cal., July 31st, 1853, to Edward Hicks, 4pp., with original cover. After two paragraphs of social comments, Eastland describes an incredible event, “As regards news here, there is always some fresh topic of conversation, it is this time, but then you so far removed from this faroff land, would take little interest in any of them ... The last topic of the day is the capture of the celebrated robber Joaquin who for the last eight or ten months has committed so many daring murders in all part of the state - the story runs that the company raised for the purpose of ferreting out these desperadoes encountered them near the Manaposa (sp?) and after a running fight at length took several prisoners, and killed both Joaquin and another deep-eyed villain called ‘three fingered Jack’ - Joaquin’s head was cut off and preserved in spirits, in order I suppose that the reward offered for him ‘dead or alive’ may be obtained.” Very Good.Joaquin Carrillo Murrieta (1829-1853), also called the Mexican Robin Hood or the Robin Hood of El Dorado, was a semi-legendary figure in California during the California Gold Rush of the 1850s. Murrieta was partly the inspiration for the fictional character of Zorro.The Rangers severed Murrieta's head and Three-Fingered Jack's hand as proof of the outlaws' deaths, and preserved them in a jar of alcohol.The jar was displayed in Mariposa County, Stockton, and San Francisco, and later traveled throughout California. Spectators could pay $1 to see them. Seventeen people, including a Catholic priest, signed affidavits identifying the head as Murrieta's, alias Carrillo, enabling Love and his Rangers accordingly received the reward money.Joseph G. Eastland was born in Nashville, Tenn., in 1S31, and came to California in 1849 with his father, who entered business in San Francisco under the name of Thomas B. Eastland and son. They founded the town of Oro on Bear river, and took part in the Gold lake excitement. In 1851 young Joseph Eastland entered the Union foundry, under the direction of James Donahue, and in 1856 became Sec. of the S. F. Gas co., with interests in the gas companies of neighboring cities. Ultimately these early companies became Pacific Gas and Electric."

[jmort]

And...or ... next please

[Gibson]

PINK HIGGINS, A TEXAS HARDCASE

Another tough Texan today. There little to nothing mentioned about this man as a gunman but he was more of a gunman than MANY of them. Funny how it works but often you see guys of great renown such as Wyatt Earp who was also a rough customer of the era. But the fellow we are about to look at was FAR more dangerous and killed far more men than Earp and many others. This does not make them any less desperate/tough it just demonstrates that "Pink" Higgins was indeed Hell With The Lid Off!

http://www.carolyar.com/Biographies/higgins.jpg

A little background on John "Pink" Higgins

http://img.groundspeak.com/waymarking/2d6f45cc-dd6e-4e22-9bc1-b8bcfd6a3744.jpg

[Gibson]

John Calhoun Pin(c)kney Higgins. We'll just call him "Pink" It seems to have been what he was known by. I just found an old Lampases Dispatch from November, 1877 which had a mention of Pink heading to his ranch. He was truly a no BS kinda guy! It appears that Pink neither gave nor asked for any quarter in his entire life. The man was death on a cracker for rustlers. A great quote from Higgins, at the end of the following, sums up his career:

"He killed at least 14 men in gunfights and once said that there might have been more. He wasn´t sure, but it had gotten to the point that if anyone was found shot or had disappeared, everyone said: "Pink Higgins did it." Once, looking at an indictment stating he killed 14 men, Higgins said: 'I didn´t kill all them men - but then again I got some that wasn´t on the bill, so I guess it just about evens up.'"

Indeed.

Let's take a look a his killing of Merritt Higgins in early 1877 and his killing of Bill Standifer in late 1903.

First a bit of background and a note about Pink's weapon/s of choice. In a sidearm it seems clear. He used a .44 caliber in a .45 caliber frame sixgun. Am I certain what that entails? Nope. He is the quote from the source that I get this from: "Higgins was more accurate than fast with the pistol he carried, a .44 in a .45 caliber frame. Once he cleared leather with it, though, the offender´s chances of survival were lessened considerable. His favorite weapon, however, was a Winchester 30-30, and his speed and accuracy with it were legendary. Old-time ranchers around Spur still recall that Higgins could hit an erratic jackrabbit dead center at 100 yards. He always pulled the trigger with his thumb, which was opposite the trigger when the lever was thrown." So that begs another question, BUT maybe not! Since the Winchester 30-30 cartridge did not exist until 1895 and the article from which the quote is taken addresses Pink's 1903 fight maybe that explains it. I know that the contemporary newspapers say he used a "Winchester" in his 1877 killing of Horrell so I suppose it was a good old Winchester Model 1873 in .44-40. Maybe.

The Horrell brood was a group of brothers with some allies. These brothers were granite hard. In January of 1873 the boys took out Lampasas County Sheriff, Shadrick T. Denson and sent his posse running. Two months later, on March 19th, the Horrell brothers ran across Texas State Police Officers in a saloon, who had in their custody, Bill Bowen, their brother-in-law. The Horrells killed 4 State Policeman that day, including Captain Thomas Williams. A massacre. But these old boys hadn't run up solidly yet against Pink Higgins. The Horrells, later in 1873 went into New Mexico where they engaged in a general war with the law and the Hispanic community. At least 17 dead, total. They returned to Texas.

Mr. Higgins has gone from cowboy to rancher. He was a die hard hater of rustling and rustlers. He was involved with pseudo-policing the range, evidently hanging more than one cattle thief. He ran many head of cattle by 1876. Our trouble begins in this year. Higgins evidently was not much impressed by the Horrell body count.

"Higgins' road to becoming a gunfighter began the day he found one of his cattle tied to a tree in the Lampasas town square. Having not tied the cow himself, he set out to find who did and was told that Merritt Horrell had sold the calf to Jim Grizzel, who owned a meat market on the square. Higgins had a warrant sworn out but a jury found Horrell not guilty. Higgins assured Horrell that if an incident of this sort happened again, a jury would not be required."

The Horrell's were not the sharpest implements around and so they shorty made off with some more of Higgans' stock and sold it to Jim Cooksey. Higgins spotted one of his cows in Cooksey's herd. Jim showed him a bill of sale from Merritt Horrell. This was January 18, 1877. Merritt had less than three days to live.

http://www.shootingtimes.com/files/2010/09/sthiggins_0731a.jpg

Lampasas:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-texas/Lampasas%20texas.jpg

[Gibson]

January 22, 1877 dawned wet and cold. Pink, Bob Mitchell, Mabe Lovejoy, Sam Hess, Pat Arnold, Bill Tinker, and George Ware set off for town and to set things "aright". It was agreed that Pink would settle his score and the others would make sure there was no interference. Their second stop, Jerry Scott's saloon or The Gem Saloon, was a hit. There seated in the back area of the place was Merritt Horrell. Pink Higgins walked right up to him, Winchester in hand, and saying as he approached, "Mr. Horrell, this is to settle some cow business." As Merritt went for a shoulder holstered sixshooter Pink shot him in the chest. As he attempted to regain his feet the Winchester sounded off again. Higgins then calmly walked over and delivered two more rounds. Here is another account:

"Pink wasn't one to wait around. He acted. Against the advice of his wife´s father, then sheriff in Lampasas, Pink rode into town and up to Dead Man´s Saloon, where he expected to find one or more of the Horrells. He slipped his Winchester out of the boot and walked into the saloon. Merritt Horrell was sitting with his back quartering to the door. Higgins saw him and kept walking straight toward him, rifle ready. The bartender headed for the door and two customers jumped out the window.

Merritt went for his six-shooter in a holster under his arm. His shot went into the ceiling when HIggins´ bullet hit him in the chest. Pink shot him three times more to make sure. Any one of the four bullets would have killed Merritt.

Higgins then stepped to the door and called to the bartender to "set them up" and he drank to his success in "getting the rest of the Horrells."

It does make a compelling picture! The bartender running for the door and two customers diving out the windows. Amusing.

The war continued but we will stop here and go forward in Pinks life to a duel he fought with Bill Standifer in 1903. Suffice it to say, Pink killed more men in the intervening years. Men who very likely needed killing. . .

At this point in time, it is almost impossible discern the origin of the muitual hatred between the two men. I have read accounts where they say it was because Pink's son represented Standifer's wife in a divorce. Standifer gave Higgin's son a very rough time and Pink sent word he'd get the guy. Other stories tell of mutual employment with the Spur Ranch as "detectives" and some disagreement in that capacity caused the duel. Still others say that Higgins found an issue with cattle rustling and a friend of Standifer's named Bill McComas. These stories indicate that Standifer may have also been involved. Anyway, some sort of altercation occurred and Higgins was warned to watch his back after he informed McComas and Standifer to stay clear of cattle that weren't their own It appears that there was a multitude of attempts to ambush Pink. All failed. What happened next is well told by Mr. Jerry Sinise in his January, 1972 article:

"Spur oldtimers vow that Higgins never wanted to fight Standifer and made every effort to avoid it. But enough was enough, and when Higgins saw Standifer in the distance one morning riding toward the house, he saddled up his favorite horse, Sandy, stuck his Winchester in the boot and rode out to meet him.
They approached each other at an angle. Standifer was on Higgins´ right. Higgins told the story:

"I was sure he wouldn´t get off his horse on my side, but would try to use his horse for protection. So I made up my mind to keep my eye on his left foot, and the minute that foot left the stirrup I would get off and go for my gun. When we were less than 100 yards apart and getting closer every step our horses took, he slipped her out and off I went. My rifle sorter hung in the saddle scabbard, and as I got it out Standifer shot, hitting old Sandy. He jumped against me and made me shoot wild - I always hated to lose the first shot.

Standifer was shooting, but he was jumping around like a Comanche and his shots were going wild. He was sideways to me, and so I knew I had to shoot mighty accurate to get him. I knew he couldn´t do any good with his gun till he stopped jumping. So I dropped on my knee, trying to get a bead on him, and when he slowed down I let him have it. I knew I had got him when the dust flew out of his sleeve above the elbow and he started to buckle. He dropped his gun into the crook of his other arm and tried to trot off. I called to him, saying if he had had enough I wouldn´t shoot again and would come to him, but he fell face forward, his feet flopped up and he didn´t speak.

I was afraid to go to him, fearing he was playing possum after being shot, so I got on my horse and started home. I got another horse and rode to a telephone and told the sheriff at Clairemont I thought I had killed Standifer. He said if I wasn´t sure I had better go back and finish it."

One thing everyone knew about Higgins. He was a man of unusual nerve. His moves were deliberate, his demeanor cold. He´d been smoking a pipe when he rode out to do combat, and when his horse was hit and had gone down, Higgins calmly put the pipe on the ground before reaching for his rifle - this while Standifer was shooting away.

When Standifer fell, he jammed his rifle barrel-first into the ground. The bullet that killed him went through an elbow and into his heart. The late George Underwood of Spur stepped off the distance between Higgins and Standifer, counting 60 paces. This was verified by others who rode to the scene later. A light rain had fallen that morning and signs of the battle were quite clear in the red dirt of the range."

Pink Higgins one heckuva man.

Standifer in group shot to the left at top:

http://s3.hubimg.com/u/6173602_f260.jpg

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2007/346/21026760_119759538852.jpg

[Gibson]

Pink Higgins tough enough?

[jmort]

It may not pay off every time, but making sure your first shot hits home is a better approach then spray and pray. I'd give him 5/5 on the tough scale, but then that would make the mad trapper a 6/5. Was looking forward to coming home tonight and reading this thread. Thanks for the hard work.

[Fishman]

I certainly am enjoying this thread!

[Gibson]

Higgins' body count rivals Killin' Jim Miller. (Another BADMAN!) Remember when he was charged by Frazier's sister who was ranting and screaming at him after Miller shotgunned her brothers head almost completely off?

"On the morning of the 14th, Bud was playing cards with friends in a saloon, when Miller pushed open the door and fired with both barrels, practically blowing Frazer's (sic) head from his body. When Bud's distraught sister approached Miller with a gun, he said to her: "I'll give you what your brother got -- I'll shoot you right in the face!"' She then put down the gun and fled. . ."

I think, if I haven't posted King Fisher and Ben Thompson's last hoorah, then I'll post it tomorrow. If I have, it'll be "The Shootist", Clay Allison.

[Slow Elk 45/70]

Uoo RaaH Mr Gibson good reading.!!!

[Gibson]

BUCKSHOT ROBERTS

Well, I am obliged for the encouragement.

How about a "hell for leather" tale of one of the really tough hombres? This story takes place on April 4, 1878. Emblazoned onto the tough guy wall of fame would be the name ANDREW L. ROBERTS.

The long weathered Indian fighter, Texas Ranger, Buffalo Hunter, and frontiersman known as Buckshot Roberts- due to taking a load of buckshot in his right shoulder in his past- would assure that his name lived long after his passing.

http://sheriffjimwilson.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/blazers-mill-LO.jpg

From truewest.ning.com and Bob Boze Bell:

Here is the grandson of Dr. Blazer pointing out where one of Buckshot's antagonists was shooting at him from:

Image link:

http://api.ning.com/files/qZ2hmXcpRS4gPH9VEHx6mTb-84uMdm*qx1-yXmOet4MsrG3Z61p1VVskg4X4quFV1frwRL*STz1A0oqNp3*ul c-PBr6cnoMl/artblazer.jpg

"Of course, Buckshot had been gut shot by Chuck Bowdre in the first exchange of gunfire at Blazer's Mill and Roberts holed up in an office in Blazer's building and grabbed a rifle off the wall (he emptied his Winchester into Bowdre and the crowd surrounding him). Bleeding like a stuck pig from the gut wound Roberts grabbed a mattress from a bed in the room and threw it across the doorway, laid down with the foreign rifle to defend himself. The leader of the Regulators, Dick Brewer, ran down to a saw mill about 100 yards from the doorway where Roberts was holed up. Brewer hid behind a wood pile and popped off a shot at Roberts. His shot was a tad high and thudded into the wall behind Roberts' head. Noting where the puff of smoke came from, Roberts looked down the hill and trained his rifle at the spot where he saw the report. Brewer, meanwhile, waited a few seconds then peered over the cord of wood to see if he got his man. Roberts factored in the distance, took aim and pulled the trigger. The bullet entered Brewer's eye and took out the back of his skull."

Mr. Blazer on the old rifle that Buckshot Roberts had appropriated:

"We all used it for hunting, but nobody in the family could hit a damn thing with that rifle."

[Gibson]

The great historian of the old west, Robert Utley describes Buckshot's past as "murky". Indeed it is. His tombstone signifies he served in the CSA during the Civil War. We'll go with that. Utley refers to him in the following manner, "he was a short man with a stocky build, he was a loner, and he preferred riding a mule". So, we have a man around 5'8", stocky, and with a preference toward being left alone. Sources about his past are indeed contradictory. Some have him in the Union Army and on the opposite side of the Texas Rangers. Most agree he was a preeminent frontiersman, a buffalo hunter and known to have been involved in shooting scrapes on more than one occasion. One account has him being on the run from several Texas Rangers and in a pitched battle killed three of them before taking a shotgun blast to his right shoulder. Based on what is coming, that is certainly believable.

On April 4, 1878, death rode in on a mule. . .

http://image1.findagrave.com/photos/2008/355/7784499_122991116889.jpg

[Gibson]

This story has it's roots in the killing of John Tunstall and the ensuing Lincoln County War. Plenty of gunmen on both sides of that fray. Roberts happened to be somewhat loosely allied with the Dolan-Murphy faction. The other faction was known as the Tunstall-McSween faction. The war came into being over the dry goods trade in the county. Go figure. Tons of big names wee involved in different ways, to include John Chisum and Billy the Kid. The Dolan faction allied with a rough group of men known as the Jesse Evans gang. The Tunstall faction allied with a group known as the regulators.

Buckshot Roberts lead in:

"He arrived in Lincoln County, New Mexico Territory in about 1873 and although his kept his past a secret, he soon developed the reputation of a badman who was quite skilled with a gun, despite his crippled right shoulder. He may have briefly enlisted in the Army at Fort Stanton, only to dessert the Army a short time later for unknown reasons. He eventually started a small ranch on the Rio Ruidoso and also became friendly with Lawrence G. Murphy and J. J. Dolan. Later on, Roberts also became friendly with Jessie Evans and the members of his gang and may have participated in some of their rustling activities. On February 18, 1878, Roberts rode in the posse that ambushed and killed John H. Tunstall and thereafter a warrant was issued for his arrest. When the Lincoln County War erupted over this, Roberts may have been convinced it was time for him to leave the county, since the warrant for his arrest was in the hands of the Regulators, who had killed two other members of the Tunstall-killing posse in March. He may have began taking steps to sell his Ruidoso ranch, but he also seems to have been taking steps to collect the rewards on the heads of the Regulators. In late March, Roberts was involved in a small skirmish near San Patricio with Regulators Billy "the Kid" Bonney and Charlie Bowdre, although no one was hurt."

Buckshot Roberts rode into the Bazer's Mill, (a settlement named for Dr. Joseph Hoy Blazer), on the Mescalero Apache Reservation on an icy Thursday at noon. He dismounted his bay mule near the post office and tied his packhorse nearby. Buckshot unbuckled his cartridge belt and hung his sixgun on his saddle pommel, he then shucked his Winchester Carbine from it's scabbard, threw it in the crook of his arm and moseyed toward the post office, likely his mission that day was not one of gunplay but one of retrieving his mail. He was expecting payment from a ranch he had sold in the area. (He may have decided to quit the area because of the warrant for his arrest.) What he didn't see was a large group of horses an the stable, all belonging to "Regulators". There were upwards of 15 men sworn to capture or kill Roberts. Uh-huh. . . 15-1 would normally be odds to my liking but not in this case. . .

George Coe who was one of the Regulators and about a half honery old cuss outlived most all of the old timers and in 1934 wrote his autobiography, "Frontier Fighter". Sadly it is where most of the story comes from. Thank God we have some clarifications from Blazer's son and his Foreman, who were there also. Coe claims his brother Frank Coe was outside and spotted Roberts heading for the Post Office. He went over to persuade him to give up his Winchester and surrender to the Regulators. Coe claims he spent 30+ minutes talking with him but failed. Blazer's son say it was but a moment.

At this point the main group of Regulators finish their lunch, the coincidental reason that they were even at the Mill, and quickly see Roberts. John Middleton, Charlie Bowdre, George Coe, Henry Brown, and Frank McNab came around to the scene. Now, it is truly on. In what has to be one of the classic tough guy responses, Charlie Bowdre cries out for Buckshot to "throw up yer hands" Buckshot's reply: "NOT MUCH, MARY ANN!" BWHAHAHA! Can't make that up. This 45 year old with a gimp right arm and facing 15-1 odds calls the guy a Mary Ann! Stone Cold Cool. Well, it's on, now.

Buckshot and Bowdre fire almost simultaneously, Bowdre hitting Buckshot in the lower midsection with a rifle ball. Buckshot hipshot and hit Bowdre center mass striking his gun belt and decking him. The bullet split and a fragment totally severed George Coe's trigger finger. The bullet that hit Roberts was a through and through. It left a grievous wound. Buckshot's Wichester Carbine again cut drive, as he retreated to the doorway of the mill, hitting John Middleton in the chest, striking "Doc” Scurlock’s pistol and shooting Billy the Kid through the arm! The old man was blazing away. He fell into the Mill. His faithful Winchester Carbine empty. His sixgun still with his mule. He was far from done though. He procured an old Springfield 45-70 single shot, fitted with a globe sight, and found a box of ammo. The posse did not rush him. As a matter of fact they fell back in a way and staked out positions while fussing as to who hit Buckshot. Ole Buck wasn't quite through though.

Inside the room Buckshot found an old mattress and unrolled it in front of the doorway creating a semi barricade. However the Regulators sat tight and tended their multiple wounded. After some time of sporadic fire, Dick Brewer the leader of the Regulators was getting more and more angry. He ordered a man present to ask Roberts to surrender, the man being somewhat smarter than Brewer, declined. Finally Brewer can stand no more and makes the last error in judgement he ever made on this oblate spheroid. Seeing the crack in the doorway and the matress, he tries to make a rifle shot through and kill Buckshot. But Buck is sitting tight watching and he spies the tell tale smoke from Brewer's rifle. That's all he requires, he raises up as best he can, props his big old 45-70 and BLAM! Drop Brewer like a plate of chitlins. Stone dead. . . Blew his brains out.

Well, guess what? Yep. The act of killing their leader, combined with their wounded totally demoralized the Regulators who pulled back to nearby settlement and bled.

BATTERED, BLOODIED, BUT VERY MUCH UNBOWED was Buckshot Roberts, the clear victor. He survived the night but succumb to his wound the next day.

Billy the Kid was quoted as saying ". . . yes sir, he licked our crowd to a finish."

Now there is another helluva man from our 19th century past.

Blazer's Mill:

http://www.angelfire.com/nm/boybanditking/Blazers3.jpg

Dick Brewer:

http://www.angelfire.com/nm/boybanditking/Richard_Brewer.jpg

[Gibson]

One clarification and an additional image:

The number of Regulators I mention in the first post is 13. I find numbers between 13-15 throughout, but it seems more sources go with 15. Thus my consistent use of 15-1, later, in the sketch.

Here is an 1881 picture of the Blazer's Mill area:

http://www.angelfire.com/nm/boybanditking/Blazers1.jpg

[Gibson]

Let's hear from ya, pards. Buckshot was a man with the bark still on, huh?

:)

[jmort]

Yes he was tough stuff. Based on this I'm giving him 4/5 on the tough guy chart. Really looking forward to next installment.

[Gibson]

Thanks jmortimer! Lots of readers but few reply. . . I really appreciate the response. Feedback/encouragement goes a long way. Obliged, friend.

This one will stir some passions. You guys must forgive my slight biases. I am, at my core, a southerner. I make no apologies.

Enjoy.

[Gibson]

Lawrence, Kansas. August 21, 1863.

"Pay Back"

"I have chosen guerilla warfare to revenge myself for the wrongs that I could not honorably avenge otherwise. I lived in Kansas when the war commenced. Because I would not fight the people of Missouri, my native state, the Yankees sought my life but failed to get me. Revenged themselves by murdering my father, destroying all my property, murdered one of my sisters and have kept the other two in jail for 12 months. But I have fully glutted my vengeance. I have killed many, I am a guerilla. I have never belonged to the Confederate Army, nor do my men."

-William T. Anderson, They called him Bloody Bill

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/78/Bloody-bill-anderson.jpg/250px-Bloody-bill-anderson.jpg

Note the shirt. It was a sort of uniform of the brigands. The move, "The Outlaw Josey Wales", correctly mentions this:

http://photos.legendsofamerica.com/img/s3/v25/p119912313-3.jpg

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9b/Battle_of_Lawrence.png

Brutal men in brutal times.

There had existed on bloody Missouri border, a state of open warfare, long before the actual United states Civil War began. It began around 1855-56. Belligerents from Kansas Territory and Missouri duked it out. Fueled by psychotics like John Brown this small war was brutal LONG before there existed a de jure war. They killed each other liberally on BOTH sides. There were atrocities aplenty. Things like the hacking to death with broadswords of 5 Missourians to the sacking of Lawrence in 1856. . .

Here is an indisputable truth. Lawrence Kansas was an epicenter of all things abolitionist in the ongoing conflict. It would later house men like the abominable Senator James Lane and the Governor of Kansas, as well. This city was the avowed enemy of pro-southern rights Missourians. When you settled there you knew EXACTLY what you were letting yourself in for. It was palpable, it was in the air. It was a bastion of abolitionists. And it was EASILY avoided. Settle elsewhere. MANY did just that. If you choose to live there and weren't completely brain dead you knew the choice had consequences. Does that mean you deserve death. Well, no, not to me. But does it mean you are an "innocent" victim of a massacre? Well, only if you were a young man who was a victim of his parents' choice.
It seems absolutely imperative to me to accept that there is a context for these events of August 21, 1863. Not an excuse but a context.

[Gibson]

A general overview of the backdrop as seen through the eyes of a Confederate Soldier who was there and observed through no doubt biased eyes but it gives a context from the viewpoint of the Missouri Partisan Ranger.

"GUERRILLA WARFARE IN MISSOURI.
BY W. J. COURTNEY, LONG BEACH, CAL

(WHO WAS WITH COMPANY B, SHANKS REGIMENT, 5th MISSOURI CAVALRY, SHELBY'S BRIGADE, PRICE'S ARMY)

'I was always strongly opposed to guerrilla warfare, believing it wrong and a poor way to settle anything : yet I want to give you a few facts as to the causes for guerrilla warfare in Missouri, where it was more bitter and merciless than in any other State. So far as Southern men took part in it, it was strictly a war of retaliation.

In September, 1861, Jim Lane, with a body of Kansas jayhawkers, wantonly burned and destroyed the town of Osceola, in St. Clair County, Mo., and a little later in the fall of that year the bloody butcher, McNeil, with a Federal command, had ten prisoners, most of them noncombatants, shot simply because some Union man in that neighborhood had disappeared from his home and could not be found.

In November, 1S61, Col. C. B. Jennison, of the 1st Kansas Cavalry, issued a proclamation to the people of the border counties of Missouri, in which he declared: "All who shall disregard these propositions (to surrender their arms and sign deeds of forfeiture of their property) shall be treated as traitors and slain wherever found. Their property shall be confiscated and their houses burned, and in no case will any one be spared, either in person or property, who refuses to accept these propositions."

And the Federals boasted of their barbarity. On December 27, 1861, the St. Louis Democrat stated that "Lieutenant Mack, sent out to Vienna with twenty Kansas rangers, returned yesterday. He brought no prisoners, that being a useless operation about played out." The Rolla Express, a Union paper of the same date, said: "A scouting party of rangers, which left this place last week for Maries County, has returned. The boys bring no prisoners ; it is not their style."

At that time there was not an organized Southern guerrilla band in the State of Missouri, nor had there been. The first of that kind was organized by Quantrell. In January, 1862, Quantrell had seven men with him and operated in Jackson County, Mo. During that month Captain Gregg joined Quantrell with thirteen men, making his entire force twenty men. After that his command increased rapidly. He had fights and took many prisoners, but he always paroled them. In a fight at Little Santa Fe Quantrell and his band were surprised and surrounded in a house. The house was set on fire, and they fought their way out. One of his men was wounded and captured, taken to Fort Leavenworth, and shot.

On the night of the 20th of March, 1862, Quantrell, with sixty men, camped on Blackwater, four miles from the little town of California. On the morning of the 21st he got a copy of the St. Louis Republic, which contained General Halleck's proclamation outlawing his band and all other bands of partisan rangers and bushwhackers and ordering Federal officers not to take them prisoners, but to kill them wherever found. Quantrell said nothing of the proclamation until he had formed his men next morning.

He then read it to them, told them it meant the black flag, and gave every man his choice who could not fight under the black flag to fall out and return home and all who could to follow him. Twenty of his force turned and rode away with him. Never until then had Quantrell or his men shot a prisoner or a Federal soldier who surrendered. They accepted the black flag when it was forced upon them.

The capture, sacking, and burning of Lawrence, Kans., after that was in retaliation for the sacking and burning of Osceola by Jim Lane and his men more than a year before. The fight and massacre, as it has been called, at Centralia was in retaliation for the killing of one of Anderson's sisters and the crippling for life of another by undermining and throwing down a house in Kansas City in which they, with other Southern women, were confined.

Missouri was isolated and cut off from the Confederacy.. There was a Federal garrison in most every town in the State. A manifestation of sympathy for the South meant banishment, confiscation, and destruction of property, or death. There was no law. The courts were terrorized, and officers were military puppets of the power. Fire and sword reigned supreme, and the guerrillas and bushwhackers simply paid back the insults and wrongs to which they and their families and their friends were subject.

They fought in the only way in which they could fight, and they fought to kill. William Anderson was killed in a fight with Curtis's command at Orrick, Ray County, Mo., in the fall of 1864, and his body ivas dragged through the streets of Richmond, Mo., by the Federals. Quantrell died in Kentucky some time later.

In the fall of 1863 General Ewing issued his infamous, devilish order No. 11, requiring all of the old Southern men (the young men having already gone South) and all of the Southern women and children to vacate their homes and remove from Jackson County under pain of death. Their beautiful homes were then sacked and burned and their best household furniture, pianos, and musical instruments were loaded into wagons and carts and carried away to Kansas.

I am loath to recall those diabolical crimes so long after the war, but it will be many years yet, if ever, before the people of Missouri and the South forget these outrages of rapine, murder, and destruction of their homes and property.

Several of Quantrell's and Anderson's men are still living at their homes in the counties of Clay, Jackson, and Lafayette. No charge of crime or violation of the law has ever been laid at their doors. They have been law-abiding, industrious citizens since the close of hostilities.
.
"Confederate Veteran" Vol. XXIX
Nashville, Tennessee 1921'"

"Captain" Wm. Clarke Quantrill:

http://www.quantrillsraidersscvcamp.com/Quantrill.jpg

1906 Reunion Quantrill's Men:

http://ozarkscivilwar.org/photographs/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/Quantrills-Raiders-Reunion.jpg

1920 Reunion Quantrill's Men:

http://www.whitsett-wall.com/Assets/Photos/WHITSETT/Sim%20Whitsett/QuantrillsGuerrillasReunion1920.jpg

From an internet article. . . (the article itself is debatable but I tend to agree with this paragraph):

"When it comes to the border states and the war, all we ever hear about is Quantrill's raid on Lawrence, Kansas, in August of 1863. No one bothers to tell us what atrocities the various groups of Jayhawkers, Red Legs, and other Yankee types committed in Missouri prior to the Lawrence raid. The "historians" have deemed we don't need to be aware of those things. All we need to know about is what a horrible man Quantrill was, while we are supposed to believe that Kansas Jayhawkers, such as Charles Jennison and James Lane, were Northern paragons of virtue—much the same as that "gentle", sword-wielding saint of the Kansas prairies, John Brown—America's first terrorist."

A long letter pinned by a Union soldier who was present when Anderson was killed, quoted to give an idea of just how heavily armed these guys were.

"BLOODY BILL HAD FOUR REVOLVERS BUCKLED AROUND HIM AND TWO very large ones across his saddle. He was well dressed with rich, clothing. He had on a white wool hat with a long fine black plume in it; wore a fine net undershirt and over it one of fine black cloth most elegantly embroidered on the sleeves and breast; a fine blue cloth vest, and a close-bodied frock coat of excellent drab colored cassimere and pants of same.
He had on his person a fine gold watch and chain and a silver one; $323 in gold and $273 in paper money besides some silver change and small paper currency and $18 in Confederate money."

The writer goes on to say that the troops gave Anderson a "decent" burial.

Uh-huh.

The Truth:

"The federal troops took Anderson’s body to Richmond where a series of ghoulish photographs were taken. He was buried in an unmarked grave in Richmond [actually it seems that they "dragged" the body unceremoniously through the town] and in the evening federal troops were said to have been seen urinating on his grave. The federals found flowers on the grave a few days later and road their horses over and over the grave in an attempt to hide it. Just a few years ago, a simple marker was placed on his grave in what is now called the Pioneer Cemetery in Richmond, Missouri."

Plenty of low class actions to go around, on BOTH sides.

In many cases the actions could be laid at the door of DRUNKEN brutality. John Brown being an exception. He was just a vile lunatic.

[Gibson]

There were three final straws that lead to the Lawrence, Kansas raid:

1) The sacking of and murders at Osceola

2) The Jail Sabotage or Collapse at Kansas City

3) The brutal displacement of Missourians residing on the border by Ewing's Order No. 10.

Bloody August

"Late in August a force of 1,200 troops, entitled the "Kansas Brigade," assembled at Fort Scott under the command of Senator James H. Lane, leader of the extreme antislavery element in Kansas. Its ostensible mission was to defend southern Kansas from Price, who had defeated Lyon at the Battle of Wilson's Creek on August 10. However Lane openly proclaimed his intention of marching into Missouri, declaring that as he did so he would not object to seeing "an army of slaves marching out."[9] Montgomery, who had procured a colonel's commission, was second in com*mand to Lane, Jennison, Stew*art, and other jayhawkers attached themselves informally to the brigade.

Price, having heard that the Missouri counties east of Fort Scott were "infested" with the "marauding and murdering bands" of Lane, decided to "clear them out." On September 2 he defeated a portion of Lane's troops in a skirmish at Drywood Creek near Fort Scott, which Lane evacuated. Content with thus "chastising" the Kansans, he marched on to Lexing*ton, Missouri, where he successfully besieged the Union garrison.[10]

Lane remained in a fortified camp near Fort Scott, fearful for the safety of his army and Kansas, until assured that Price had gone on to the Missouri River. He then sent a detachment under Jennison in "pursuit." Jennison followed Price at a respectable distance as far as Papinsville, Missouri, then returned with 200 cattle and a number of "contrabands."[11]

On September 10, "with a smart little army of about 1,500," Lane started northward along the Missouri line. His avowed objective, however, was not to pursue Price but to "clear out" the valley of the Osage and to "pitch into" the towns of Butler, Harri*sonville, Osceola, and Clinton. On September 12 he reached Trading Post, Kansas, and from there turned eastward into Missouri. As soon as they crossed the border his men began to loot, burn, and perhaps murder and rape.[12]

The climax of Lane's march occurred at Osceola on Septem*ber 23. After exchanging a few shots with some Confederates on the outskirts, his men entered the town and proceeded to ransack it. They robbed the bank, pillaged stores and private houses, and looted the courthouse. Captain Thomas Moonlight bombarded this last building with a cannon, and others set fire to the town, almost totally destroying it. Many of the Kansans got so drunk that when it came time to leave they were unable to march and had to ride in wagons and carriages.[13] They carried off with them a tremendous load of plunder, including as Lane's personal share a piano and a quantity of silk dresses.[14] The "Sack of Osceola" henceforth was a prime cause of bitter hatred of Lane and Kansans by the people of West Missouri."

Concerning the utter destruction of the town of Osceola, let me add this from the website dixieoutfitters.com, it quotes much from historian Paul Peterson:

"While Price's army was closing on Lexington, rather than render assistance to Mulligan, Lane and his ragtag army of twelve hundred Kansas jayhawkers marched instead against the small pro-Southern town of Osceola, Missouri, in St. Clair County. The Missouri editor of the Weston Argus described the sight of fifty shiftless horsemen riding through his town to join "Lane's Brigade"...

They were nearly naked, and minus shoes and hats in many cases. They were not armed, but a number of them had hams of meat on their backs, which they no doubt had stolen from some man's meat house on the road. There are the kind of men that Lane's Brigade is to be composed of; thieves, cutthroats, and midnight robbers. These hirelings passed through town on a full trot, their eyes looking as big as new moons, as they expected at every corner to be stopped or fired on by the Rebels. On a dark night such soldiers would make a splendid charge on a hen-roost, meat house, negro kitchen or stable, but they can't fight honest Americans in daylight."4

This description of the men who belonged to "Lane's Brigade" provided by Peterson , via the writings of a newspaper editor, paint a vivid portrait of New England Puritans, who immigrated to Kansas in pursuit of a socialist Utopia that ultimately left them desolate and hungry. Jim Lane and his "Kansas Brigade" no doubt had a far greater prize in mind than the "hen-roost, meat house and negro kitchen".

"Osceola was one of the more prosperous towns in southwest Missouri. At the beginning of the war, the population was greater than 3000...On September 23,1861, when Lane entered the area , there wasn't a Confederate soldier within miles of the town. With Lane were Col. William Wir's Fourth Kansas Jayhawker Regiment and Col. James Montgomery's Third Kansas Jayhawker Regiment. A few residents fired on the jayhawkers so Lane ordered Capt. Thomas Moonlight to shell the town. After the Union guns had receded the town to rubble, nine male inhabitants were brought to the town square for a drumhead court-martial and shot. Most of the remaining residents were women and children.

Banks were an easy target for the jayhawkers, but the Osceola bank prudently had shipped its funds elsewhere. When Lane found little currency in the bank , he ordered the stores, warehouses and homes ransacked. His men loaded the lot into government wagons and any other vehicles they could confiscate. Among Lane's personal haul were a number of pianos for his home in Lawrence.

He then set the town afire. Of Osceola's eight hundred buildings all but three were turned to ashes. No consideration was given to political leanings of the homeowners. The plunder included 350 horses, 400 head of cattle , 200 kidnapped slaves, 3000 sacks of flour and 50 sacks of coffee. The jayhawkers also took the county records from the courthouse. Lane stole a fine carriage from the home of his colleague, U.S. Sen. Waldo P. Johnson, and sent it to his family in Lawrence along with several silk dresses.

Eyewitnesses noted that the plunder train of 150 wagons was at least a mile long. Property losses were estimated at more than a million dollars. One jayhawker wrote: As the sun went down Sunday night Osceola was a heap of smoldering ruins. Three thousand people were left homeless when Osceola was burned, and perhaps the fairest city in Missouri had been utterly wiped from the earth"5

Also worth noting is the fact that Peterson reveals:

"The Osceola raid was four times more destructive than the 1863 Lawrence Raid".6

I would add that the vast majority of those liberated slaves were liberated into the fields and kitchens of Jayhawkers.

On August 13 a makeshift prison housing the arrested womenfolk of some of the prominent leaders under Quantrill collapsed. It killed five of the young women outright. This event was the true straw that broke the camel's back. It turned the men into berserkers. Any semblance of humanity toward their perceived enemies died with those women. Here is what Peterson says about it:

"In the mid summer of July 1863, Federal Occupational troops began to arrest and detain many area women (mainly those related to Missouri Partisan Rangers) who were said to be spying and gathering food & information for the Partisan Rangers.

Among the women detained were close relatives of prominent Partisan Rangers. These included Mary and Josephine Anderson who were sisters of Bill Anderson.

These women were to be detained until arrangements could be made to transport them to St. Louis, where they would be tried.

All the prisoners were incarcerated into a 3 story building named The Longhorn Store and Tavern located on the site of 1409 Grand Avenue, Kansas City, Missouri.

The Longhorn Store and Tavern was a fairly new structure, and was built in 1856. Awaiting transport, The Longhorn Store and Tavern had been converted into a make shift jail house for women.

On August 13, 1863 the 7 year old building suddenly collapsed.

Four women were killed including 14 year old Josephine Anderson, sister of William T. Anderson. Bill's other sister, Mary Anderson was badly injured (both legs broken).

Also arrested and incarcerated during the collapse were Charity Kerr, sister of John McCorkle (killed), Mrs. Nannie McCorkle, sister-in-law of John McCorkle (uninjured), Susan Vandever, cousin of Cole Younger (killed), Armenia Whitsett Selvey, cousin of Cole Younger (killed).

Here is where the criminal event takes place...

The inner structures and supports of the building were actually weakened by Federal troops so as to make it collapse. Many of the guards had been drinking and celebrating after the collapse, and were overheard bragging and boasting as to the sabotage!!!! "

Peterson continues:

"The unusual construction of the building was that it was actually two separate buildings that shared a common wall as well as floor joists that ran the width of the buildings, almost fifty feet, and rested on the outside walls of both buildings...The soldiers garrisoned in the adjoining guardhouse had examined the building and realized that it could easily be destroyed. A few days prior to August 13, they began to weaken the structure of the Cockrell Building, which they occupied. The soldiers premeditated their designs, known that if they weakened the structural integrity of their own building, it would cause the instability in the adjoining building being used as the female prison.

They began by removing the center posts on the main floor of the guard-house. This left no support for the roof and the floor joists of their own building, thus creating a lever action and causing the adjoining female prison to collapse on top of their own building.

The soldiers gained access to the basement of the Thomas Building and removed the brick pillars that held up the floor joists of the first floor....Not wanting to injure one of their own men, the assassins next door waited until the lone guard left the prison to fetch the water {that they had sent him to get} when they made the final stroke against the supporting column. With the supporting posts and columns in the Cockrell Building finally cut down and removed, the building began to sink. The structure began to fall as the guard was returning. Once the pressure from above started to drive the top stories into the cellar, the supports in the outside walls and, following a lever action, collapsed on top of the guardhouse. "

Finally:

"All but five of the eleven women imprisoned here escaped death. Four were killed immediately...{ten-year-old} Martha Anderson, restricted by the [12 lb.] ball-and-chain, tried desperately to make it to a window; she lived but here legs were horribly crushed"

legendsofamerica.com says this of the incident:

"Among the killed and injured in the collapse were women who were close relatives of prominent Confederate guerrillas. Those killed in the collapse, included Josephine Anderson, sister of "Bloody Bill Anderson", Susan Crawford Vandever and Armenia Crawford Selvey, Cole Younger's cousins, Charity McCorkle Kerr, wife to Quantrillian member Nathan Kerr, and a woman named Mrs. Wilson. Many others were injured and scarred. Caroline Younger, sister to Cole and James Younger, would die two years later as a result of her injuries. Another Anderson sister was crippled for life, when both of her legs were broken in the incident."

Quantrill rider, Mr. John McCorkle, stated:

"This foul murder was the direct cause of the famous raid on Lawrence, Kansas. We could stand no more. Imagine, if you can, my feelings. A loved sister foully murdered and the widow of a dead brother seriously hurt by a set of men whom the name assassins, murderers and cut-throats would be a compliment...The homes of our friends burned, our aged sires, who dared sympathize with us had either hung or shot in the presence of their families and all their furniture and provisions loaded in wagons and with our live stock taken to the state of Kansas. The beautiful country of Jackson county, Cass County and Johnson County were worse than desert, and on every hillside stood lone blackened chimneys, sad sentinels and monuments to the memory of our once happy homes. And these outrages had been done by Kansas troops, calling themselves soldiers, but a disgrace to the name soldier. And now our innocent and beautiful girls had been murdered in a most foul, brutal, savage and damnable manner. We were determined to have revenge, and so, Colonel Quantrill, and Captain Anderson planned a raid on Lawrence, Kansas, the home of the leaders, Jim Lane and Jennison."

Five days later, Ewing's Order No. 10 went into effect. It gave carte blanche to displace anyone deemed not loyal and any family member of a "Partisan" could easily fit under a clause that stated that wives and children suspected of lending aid and comfort to a Partisan would be cast out of their homes and the entire state. Moussouri border civilians were burned out and run off.

The hounds of hell were unleashed on the early morning of August 21. These hounds had names like Todd, Taylor, Clements, Pole, Younger, Shepard, McCorkle, James, Quantrill, and one named Anderson. . . God help Lawrence, Kansas.

Quantrill's Raiders Great Grandson of Daniel Boone, seated near center, George T. Scholl:

http://www.missouridivision-scv.org/images/quantrellreunion1912.JPG

Scholl's revolvers:

http://www.missouridivision-scv.org/images/Schollguns.jpg

[Gibson]

Let's Go To Lawrence! Was the cry.

On August 10, Quantrill first breached the idea of attacking the citadel of abolitionists. The home of the murderous butcher Jim Lane. The headquarters of the band that were at least as murderous as Quantrill's men, the Red Legs. These Missourians had no worse enemies. Quantrill's camp meeting with his lieutenants graggen on for 24 hours as the words sank in. Most were vehemently opposed. Said it was a disaster in the making. Home Guard and Federal troops were expected. Quantrill dismissed concerns with argumentation. He believed that the odds would be around 2:1 in the battle he expected. No real hill for the Raiders.

So, after a full battle plan and contingencies were hammered out, the leaders went back to units and told the men to make ready but not tell them the actual mission. In a raid the men had captured a massive gun powder magazine and had caches it at a friends place. They spent days cleaning guns, oiling up the weapons' moving parts and loading cylinders as well as "thousands of cartridges".

Hell was slowly bearing down on a town populated with 3,000 citizens. On August 18, hell moved toward Lee's Summit, Missouri.

The death of several of the womenfolk on the 13th drove the men to borderline insanity. Anderson was completely given over to his darker angels. The others followed suit. They went to a very dark place. Interestingly to me, is the fact that Quantrill himself seems to have been measured and deliberate. Frankly, it appears he held onto his senses better than the others. Nevertheless, the men crossed the rubicon with word of the death and mangling of several of there women and a couple of the children. God help Lawrence, Kansas. On that day, He would not.

[Interesting aside: on the afternoon of the 18th, Raiders lieutenant George Todd stopped at the house of an informer. Called him out and after questioning the guy drew his .44 revolver with the intent of shooting the man but his pleadings were availed and Todd simply leaned forward in his saddle and b*tch slapped him with his revolver barrel. Then Todd dismounted and entered the home, where he found an organ. George Todd, killer of scores of Yankees, walked over, ceremoniously mounted the seat and proceeded to play beautifully on the organ for a long period. Then got up and left.]

The gathering storm reached fruition on the morning of the 20th. The last group joined Quantrill and everyone was now fully aware of the mission and fully inflamed by the events of the last week. Early on the 20th they crossed the border.

Here is what occurred according to McCorkle (he was there), Peterson (Quantrill biographer), and the Lawrence Journal-World newspaper. Quoted from the dixieoutfitters.com website:

"According to McCorkle:

"Riding all night, the town was reached at daylight....down the mainstreet , shooting at every blue coat that came in sight. Just before entering the town Colonel Quantrill turned to his men and said; Boys, this is the home of Jim Lane and Jennison; remember that in hunting us they gave no quarter. Shoot every soldier you see but in no way harm a woman or a child. He dashed ahead of his command down Main {Massachusetts} Street , firing his pistol twice, dismounted from his horse and went into the hotel {City Hotel} , where he was met by the landlord, whom he recognized as an old friend and immediately gave orders for the landlord not to be molested and stayed in the hotel and guarded him. During all this time , his command were busy hunting men with blue clothes and setting fire to the town. Jim Lane and Jennison were the ones wanted and some of the boys dashed at once to Jim Lane's house, but, unfortunately for the world, did not find him. They found his saber, which was very handsome, the scabbard being heavily gold-plated. In the parlor of Lanes House there were three pianos and the boys recognized two two of them as having belonged to Southern people in Jackson County, and a great many other things belonging to Southern people were found in his house"23

Historian Paul Peterson, continues in the description of the events that transpired in Lawrence on August 21'st, 1863:

"The hunted men were soldiers, militiamen , jayhawkers , and Redlegs as well as individuals who had aided jayhawkers, notably individuals who had trafficked in the property stolen from Missourians. Also included were newspaper men who for years had expounded virulent, caustic and inflammatory articles. No small example of this was John Speer Sr. He had once written of the guerrillas: Of all the mean, miserable creatures that infest the earth, these canine wretches in human form are the most despicable.

Quantrill's men carried maps that noted the houses marked for destruction. Once a house had been put to the torch, guerrillas surrounded it to ensure the flames were not extinguished and that the house was completely destroyed...

Any house with porch steps made from gravestones stolen from Missouri cemeteries as well as any house where any property was recognized as stolen from Missouri raised the guerrillas' wrath and indignation. They felt compelled to use the torch freely in such instances..

Three hundred buildings comprised the town; the guerrillas singled out around forty for destruction, mostly in the commercial district that housed or made their business by dealing in plundered goods. Because other buildings caught fire and suffered collateral damage due to their proximity to the condemned buildings, more than eighty buildings were eventually destroyed in the flames...

Contrary to what others have written, Quantrill ordered the bloodshed at Lawrence to be minimal. The refugee Savage noted: It would have been much worse for Lawrence if Quantrill had not been along. John Newman Edwards added : Quantrill, during the entire occupation, did not fire his pistol. He saw everything, directed everything, was the one iron man, watchful and vigilant through everything; but he did not kill. He saved many.

Years after the war, an article from the Cincinnati Enquirer, reprinted in the April 22, 1898, Topeka Mail and Breezem, asserted: As a matter of fact investigation has shown that Quantrill's methods of warfare were not looked upon with favor by some. He was too humane, and generally shrank from the needless taking of human life. He led the 300 guerrillas against Lawrence, Kansas , and helped sack the town of Olathe, but those living today, who were under his command on those memorable occasions have testified that Quantrill's horror of needless blood-spilling held his men very much in check and minimized the slaughter."24

Even the Lawrence {Kansas} Journal-World newspaper, in its Sunday September 19, 2004 edition , which re-published an account first printed in 1929 admitted that women and children were not harmed, stating that:

"The invaders divided into parties of six or eight and seemed to infest the whole town. Men, wherever found, were shot down and their homes set afire. Women and children were not harmed, but women's pleas were disregarded"'

The raid began somewhere after 5 am and by 9 am it was over. Jim Lane slouched away as best he could and escaped, leaving his friends and town to die.

Despite the somewhat sanitized account, something around 150 men and young men were killed. Few, very few, were spared. Anderson and Clements likely scalped a some. Human life was cheap that warm August morning. It was what it was.

[Gibson]

Did anyone notice the gentleman at the top right of the first "reunion" image above?

The image is of the 1906 reunion. . .

"This 1906 reunion photo was taken in Independence. Among the attendees was John Noland, first from right on the third row. Born a slave in 1844, he served as Quantrill’s hostler during the war and was used by the guerrilla commander as a scout and spy. Noland died in 1908."

A bit more on the image:

"Hiram J. George, second from right on the third row, was born in 1834. He fought as both a guerrilla and a regular Confederate soldier, serving at the battles of Independence and Lone Jack, in the raid on Lawrence, and at Baxter Springs. He died in 1911.

William W. “Buck” Fields, sixth from left on the first row, was born in 1844. He served with with the Missouri State Guard and with Quantrill. Fields participated in the siege of Lexington, the battles of Independence, Lone Jack, Cane Hill, Prairie Grove, and Westport, and in the raid on Lawrence. He died in 1937.

William H. Gregg, fifth from right on the first row, was born in 1838. He served as a lieutenant in Quantrill’s command, and fought at Independence, Prairie Grove, and Springfield. He also participated in the raid on Lawrence and in the destruction of General James Blunt’s command at Baxter Springs. Later in the war, Gregg left Quantrill and joined the regular Confederate army. He died in 1916.

John Hicks George, fourth from right on the first row, was born in 1838. He fought with Quantrill at Independence, Lone Jack, Prairie Grove, Lawrence and Baxter Springs. Later in the war he joined the regular Confederate forces and was captured by the Federals in 1864. He died in 1926.

Image Courtesy State Historical Society of Missouri"

[Gibson]

Did anyone notice the gentleman at the top right of the first "reunion" image above?

The image is of the 1906 reunion. . .

"This 1906 reunion photo was taken in Independence. Among the attendees was John Noland, first from right on the third row. Born a slave in 1844, he served as Quantrill’s hostler during the war and was used by the guerrilla commander as a scout and spy. Noland died in 1908."

A bit more on the image:

"Hiram J. George, second from right on the third row, was born in 1834. He fought as both a guerrilla and a regular Confederate soldier, serving at the battles of Independence and Lone Jack, in the raid on Lawrence, and at Baxter Springs. He died in 1911.

William W. “Buck” Fields, sixth from left on the first row, was born in 1844. He served with with the Missouri State Guard and with Quantrill. Fields participated in the siege of Lexington, the battles of Independence, Lone Jack, Cane Hill, Prairie Grove, and Westport, and in the raid on Lawrence. He died in 1937.

William H. Gregg, fifth from right on the first row, was born in 1838. He served as a lieutenant in Quantrill’s command, and fought at Independence, Prairie Grove, and Springfield. He also participated in the raid on Lawrence and in the destruction of General James Blunt’s command at Baxter Springs. Later in the war, Gregg left Quantrill and joined the regular Confederate army. He died in 1916.

John Hicks George, fourth from right on the first row, was born in 1838. He fought with Quantrill at Independence, Lone Jack, Prairie Grove, Lawrence and Baxter Springs. Later in the war he joined the regular Confederate forces and was captured by the Federals in 1864. He died in 1926.

Image Courtesy State Historical Society of Missouri"

[felix]

Quantrill died as a freshly converted Catholic by Loretto nuns during his recovery in either a Louisville or Lexington KY convent. I was told of this by a Loretto nun while teaching history to my 8th grade class at Immaculate Conception school, New Madrid MO. ... felix

[Gibson]

Thanks very much for adding to the thread, felix!

Many years back I sat in the Filson Club and read contemporary accounts of his shooting and death. I do not recall details. This seems vaguely accurate:

"Captain Quantrill was trapped in barn on the James H. Wakefield farm, about one mile from Smiley, Kentucky by Edward Terrell and his cavalry detachment of hired assassins on May 10, 1865.

While attempting to escape, he was struck by two Spencer balls, one in the hand, the other paralyzing him from the waist down.

Captain Quantrill was then transferred to a Federal military hospital in Louisville, then to a Catholic Hospital in Louisville. After almost a month of fighting for his life, Captain Quantrill died at the Catholic Hospital in Louisville at 4pm, June 6, 1865.

He was buried in the old Portland Catholic Cemetery at Louisville. In 1887, his mother had his bones brought back to Ohio. The man she paid to remove the body stole some of the skeleton, and years later, parts of it showed up in the hands of a Kansas collector.

Eventually, these stolen parts were moved to the Old Confederate Veteran's Home & Cemetery at Higginsville, MO.

On October 24, 1992, William C. Quantrill was re-interred in the Old Confederate Veteran's Home Cemetery with full Confederate honors due him by the Missouri Division of the Sons Of Confederate Veteran's."

I have read conflicting accounts of his conversion. Father Michael Power is who I see cited as nursing him and to whom he gave his final confession.

[jmort]

History do make it out that Lawrence Kansas was attack without provocation or justification at that the incident occurred in a vacuum. There is so much more to tell about William T. Anderson. The James Brothers his bravery and so on and on. He is one tough dude. He definitely looks exactly like a rebel should, he personified a rebel. His hand looks like a big mitt in his death photo making his six-gun look like a J Frame. Good stuff. 5/5 on the tough guy scale.

[Gibson]

Here's to the old-timers:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GKeDcF1v_Y4

Favorite image is at ~2:26- 2:30. Who is that guy? It seems he's someone I should know. Now the guy with the double-barrel scattergun at 3:16 seems recognizable :) The very last image also fitting it encapsulates a lot of what my mind conjures of the cowboy of old.

Edit! It's actually the image you see now. Who is that?

Hell, I know I'm just seeing the old guys through a sort of rose colored glass. I know it's was the farthest thing from glory. It was often a lonely hard put life these men lead. But it's the ideal. Something lost to this culture in which we now live. Yeah, I lean toward the older ways. Yeah, I idealize the image of the old cattle drivers camped on the open prairie with the night noises to listen to, a hard ground and a bedroll to sleep on, a cup of jailhouse coffee, and a feeling of freedom and peace long dead. Yeah, I'm an anachronism.

I was sitting out in the woods yesterday morning about an hour before daybreak and looked around me in almost the total darkness and the thought that came to my mind is this is where one finds God. then again, I suppose one finds God each time one diligently looks.

[Mike.44]

Gibson,
I found this thread and have been reading it for several hours. I have enjoyed it immensely. I sure hope there is PLENTY more to come.

Mike

[Gibson]

You betcha, Mike.

More stories than I could ever get posted. Tomorrow it'll be King Fisher and Ben Thompson (as I promised earlier). Thompson was chain lightning with a sixgun and a crack shot with a rifle. Fact: He once held off an entire town with a Henry rifle until his brother, Billy, who had just killed the sheriff could get gone. Well documented, story. I think I have an image of the handgun W.F. Cody presented Thompson. Beautiful.

[Gibson]

Well folks, today, we'll look the at end for a couple of residents of the great Lone Star State.

Tom Sullivan, a deputy sheriff in Medina County during that era, probably
provided the best eulogy for the pair when a reporter asked his opinion about them
shortly after the slayings. Giving the question some thought he responded by saying,
"They called King Fisher and Ben Thompson bad men, but they wasn't bad men; they just
wouldn't stand for no foolishness, and they never killed any one unless they bothered
them."

http://www.******oftheweek.com/thompson.jpg

"I always make it a rule to let the other fellow fire first. If a man wants to fight, I argue the question with him and try to show him how foolish it would be. If he can't be dissuaded, why then the fun begins but I always let him have first crack. Then when I fire, you see, I have the verdict of self-defence on my side. I know that he is pretty certain in his hurry, to miss. I never do."

-Ben Thompson, pistoleer

http://www.franksrealm.com/Indians/Outlaws/John_King_Fisher.GIF

The Texas Rangers were sent in to capture or kill Fisher and his gang but once
there they found that Fisher had total control of the region. Ranger Captain Leander
McNelly reported to the governor that, "The country is under a perfect reign of terror. ...
the citizens are too much afraid of the desperados (King Fisher and his gang)to give any
assistance in even keeping them secure after they have been placed in jail, and they
would never think of helping to arrest any of them. No witnesses can be found who will dare testify against the desperadoes and I am told by the Circuit Judge that he is
convinced no jury in three counties Dimmitt, Maverick, and Live Oak can be found to
convict them..."

[Gibson]

"This is King Fisher's road.
Take the other."

Our next sketch concerns the ambush and murder of two REAL gunman.

It seems superfluous to give much background on John King Fisher. Here is a nice short summary (pay attention to Ranger Jennings' description, Jennings was a Ranger's Ranger) from "frontiertimes.com:

"He apparently rode with Mexican rustlers, even killing as many as ten before emerging as the leader of the bunch, which sometimes amounted to as many as one hundred. It was reported that he traded stolen Mexican cattle for stolen Texas cattle with the eventual president of Mexico, Porfirio Diaz.

He was an imposing figure, once described by Texas Ranger N. A. Jennings as wearing an ornamented Mexican sombrero, a black Mexican jacket embroidered with gold, a crimson sash, and boots, with two silver-plated, ivory-handled revolvers swinging from his belt [also Bengal tiger skin chaps]. In the section where he reigned, Fisher was feared and respected. A certain road branch bore the sign: "This is King Fisher's road. Take the other." Fisher reportedly placed the sign to distinguish between his private road and the public road, but many at the time viewed it as evidence of the extent of Fisher's power and control.

In addition to operating his ranch, Fisher was evidently engaged in cattle rustling in Texas and Mexico, and his escapades led more than once to violence. He was arrested at various times by the famous Texas Ranger captain Leander McNelly and his successor Lee Hall. Charged with murder and horse and cattle theft, he managed to avoid conviction, but his legal ordeals took their toll, and Fisher decided to live a quieter life. He married in April 1876 and later bought a ranch near Eagle Pass."

In 1876 and '77 King was involved in two more incidents, on Christmas Day 1876 he had words with a man in Zavala County, Texas. His name was Bill Donovan and he drew his last breath on that Christmas Day. Three bullets from Fisher's Colt's .45 sixgun and he was singin' "Nearer my God to Thee". . . In '77 he ran upon a group of Mexican rustlers, one made the fatal mistake of pulling a sixgun and firing at King. King leapt from his own mount and took the Mexican to the ground. He snatched the sixgun and killed three of the Mexicans with it instantly. Game over. . .

Suffice it to say, this is the kind of man King Fisher had been but his life changed, at least somewhat, after his marriage. He was even a lawman at the time of his murder.

John King Fisher ruled 5,000 square miles. One last incident: "Over time, with a new family he began a more settled life by working in the cattle business. He served briefly in 1883 as acting sheriff of Uvalde County, Texas, and during this service he trailed two stage coach robbery suspects. The two men were brothers, Tom and Jim Hannehan, and Fisher tracked them to their ranch near Leakey, Texas. The two brothers resisted, and Fisher shot and killed Tom Hannehan. Jim Hannehan then surrendered and was taken into custody along with the stolen loot from the robbery."

Ben Thompson was even more noted as a gunman.

"It is doubtful if in his time there was another man living who equalled him
with a pistol in a life-and-death struggle" - Bat Masterson

Ben Thompson was born in Knottingley, West Yorkshire, England in 1843 but as a child in 1852 he landed in Austin Texas.

His first shooting scrape was as a 14 year old, he blasted another youth with birdshot. The youth survived and Thompson 60 days. In early 1860 he is reported to have killed a derelict who was rudely addressing a lady in New Orleans, in a knife fight.

Thompson enlisted in a Ranger brigade and got a taste of killing Indians in 1860-61. ". . . Ben Thompson enlisted in the Confederate Second Regiment Texas Mounted Rifles under the command of legendary Colonel John 'Rip' Ford. Ben would see action at the Battle of Galveston on January 1 1863, where he was wounded, and in Louisiana at La Fourche Crossings on June 20-21 1863. On November 26 1863, Thompson returned home to marry Catherine L. Moore, the eldest daughter of Martin Moore, a successful Austin merchant and substantial landowner. Ben remained in the Confederate military until its final surrender."

Shortly after the surrender a man made the mistake of threatening Ben with a scattergun. Federal troops soon arrived and placed Thompson under arrest. He languished in custody for sometime but resolved to take his leave. Ge escaped to Mexico and spent almost two years fighting with and killing for Emperor Maximilian. His side lost. Ben was VERY lucky to get out of Mexico alive. . .

Ben went back to Austin to find his brother-in-law pistol whipping his wife. Guess what? Thompson shot him on the spot but did not kill him. He drew a four year stretch at Huntsville for this. Ben managed to get clear of this on a technicality after only a short stint. He left Austin for Abilene and professional gambling. He even opened a saloon with Phil Coe. A man destined to take a dirt nap delivered from the business end of a Colt's Navy .36 caliber, wielded by one James Butler Hickock (they called him Wild Bill).

Ben spent the next years drifting to all of the famous gambling towns of the period. He eventually ended up back in Austin in 1878, possibly before. He was a popular guy there but quick to back his temper with his sixshooter when drunk.

In 1879 Buffalo Bill was in town and met with Thompson. Newspaper reports from the timer mention them shooting together and the amazing shooting Cody demonstrated with a rifle and Ben with a revolver. Evidently Cody was taken with Ben's skills (see picture).

In 1880-1881 Ben had been elected City Marshal of Austin. He was a hands on Marshal and even faced down and arrested John Ringo, the noted gunman. However there was one problem, Ben was a no BS kind of guy and lawmen have to be able to shake off some amount of BS. Thus we have the genesis for our sketch.

"In 1880 while visiting San Antonio, Thompson had become embroiled in a gamblers feud with Jack Harris and the other owners of the notorious Vaudeville Theatre. [ Billy Simms, who will later come up in the last battle of Thompson's life testified of an incident that occurred prior to Harris' death: "Look here Harris, I heard that you were looking for me with a shot-gun last night?"

"No sir, I was not looking for you with a shotgun."

"I heard you were."

"No, I was not looking for you, I was waiting for you."

"Do you mean to say I can’t come in your house?"

"Ben, if you had a house and forbid me to go into it I would not go around it."

"Do you say I can’t go in your house?"

"No, you can’t."

"Well, I’m coming to your house and if the doors are closed I’m going to kick them down. If you think I care a damn for you, you jump out there on the plaza with your shotgun."] The feud simmered for two years until Thompson, tired of hearing of Harris' continuous threats, shot and killed him on July 11, 1882. Armed with a shotgun, Harris proved too slow for Thompson's pistol and the sensational murder trial that followed was headline news throughout Texas. By the time that a San Antonio jury had returned a verdict of not guilty, Austin had already accepted Ben's resignation and elected a new City Marshall.

From knottingley.org, again: "Jack Harris was wounded in the chest, a "ball struck the breast bone, and glanced . . .up between the 4th & 5th ribs and passed out behind." The shot passed through the right lung and caused severe hemorrhaging. Carrying his cocked shotgun, Harris staggered up the stairs towards the theatre gallery. Johnny Dyer followed and found him laid out between the benches. He was surrounded by two or three women. One held his head. The two actresses, Kate and May Mauri told Dyer that Jack was shot; Dyer raced out of the Vaudeville and found Dr. Thomas Chew who examined Harris at the theatre. Friends placed Harris on a cot, ordered a hack and took him to is home three blocks away. Besides the attending Dr. Chew, other physicians were called but nothing could be done to save Harris’ life. For more than an hour he suffered and he was in such agony that once he implored, "Oh ! Someone kill me for God’s sake and let me die." Moments later he ceased tossing over the bed, took one last bloody gasp and died."

http://www.tulsalibrary.org/JPG/A0404.jpg

[Gibson]

The Vaudeville was now in the hands of Billy Simms, Joe Foster and Johnny Dyer.


Thompson returned to a hero's welcome in Austin but within a year’s time his drinking bouts had become more frequent and his late night pistol antics more annoying and dangerous and sentiment within the city gradually turned against him. While Ben was sober there was not a kinder or friendlier man around, but the prolonged and heavy bouts of drinking which characterised the last four years of his life, earned him the reputation of being a troublesome character. Unfortunately, many accounts of Ben still portray him with the reputation he earned himself during his later years with total disregard to his previous behaviour."

One noted writer recorded his post Harris killing behavior as follows:

"...he was irritable and easily offended. Instead of the courteous, affable man he had been, Thompson was now arrogant and overbearing. Suffering from insomnia he spent most nights roaming the town (Austin), shooting off his pistol with a perverted sense of humor. The feud with Harris was kept alive by statements from Joe Foster that Thompson had better not return to the Vaudeville. Billy Simms, executor of Harris' estate, was running the saloon in partnership with Foster. In both cities, the feeling persisted that the rising of tension would be broken only by more gunfire...The illness and death of his mother added to his depression..."


Buffalo Bill had this pistol made for Thompson, ain't it a beaut?

http://www.knottingley.org/images/historical/pistol.jpg

Jack Harris, killed by Thompson

http://www.satheatres.com/images/albums/NewAlbum_0862a/Jack_Harris.jpg

[Gibson]

ASSASSINATION AT THE VAUDEVILLE THEATER

The best I can see this story through the dimming of almost 130 years is the King Fisher and Ben Thompson were assassinated. I suspect that this is as close to truth as we will get, from Geron and Yates in their "Fatal Corner" article: "Charges of assassination were made by all the friends of Thompson and Fisher but nothing was ever proved. Frank Bushick, in his book published in 1934, provides what is as near the final word as we are likely to get. Bushick was editor of the San Antonio Express from 1892 to 1906, and city tax commissioner for many years. He was told by "sporting men in the know" that the real slayers were "three hangers-on at the theater, a bartender named McLaughlin, Canada Bill, a gambler, and an English Jew variety performer named Harry Tremaine." These men were posted in a box overlooking the balcony and told to fire if there was trouble. They all left town immediately after the shooting.

Jacobo Coy's testimony included the statement, "The parties who were shooting were behind us"--and the Justice let it go without question. Simms said, "After the first fire another pistol was drawn, and just as this pistol was drawn Fisher said: 'Don't you draw that, you S.O.B.'" But when a juror asked who drew this pistol, Simms declined to answer and the Justice sustained his objection."

My belief:

[Remember that Thompson had killed Jack Harris the former owner of the Vaudeville and a good friend to current leadership of the club. There were EXTREMELY bitter feelings in the place against Thompson and many threats had passed back and forth. King Fisher however was friends with BOTH sides.]

The two men met up in Austin with Fisher visiting the city on business and Ben living there. They hit some of the gaming/drinking establishments and Fisher deciding he wanted to get back to his home in Uvalde, announced he would take the train to San Antonio and thence to Uvalde. It seems for some reason Ben Thompson agreed to go as far as San Antonio. It makes sense if you think about it. Two men get to knocking back a few and then the bright ideas begin flowing that look odd to us but are perfectly reasonable to the drinkers. The train rolls down the tracks and our guys have a few more drinks, etc.

They arrived in San Antonio in the evening and strolled the town, hitting the Turner Hall Opera House and a couple more drinks. They left prior to the last act and made their way to the Vaudeville Variety Theater. Unfortunately for them word had been wired ahead from the train that the two men were on the way. This point is KEY! Something else that I think is overplayed is Ben's supposed drunkenness; I do NOT believe he was dead drunk at all. In my opinion he was a VERY well practiced drinker and could easily maintain.

Fisher and Thompson came into the theater on March 11, 1884 at right around 11 pm, they were immediately greeted by Billy Simms and given a great table on the second story balcony. The three were joined shortly by J. Coy, a special policeman (bouncer) employed by Simms. Appearances say that the men were jovial and happy. (Most agree that Fisher was friends with the owners of the theater and was maybe even brokering a peace in this situation, who knows?) Shortly, Ben calls for Joe Forster to join the table; Joe being the man most bitter at Thompson for having killed Harris. Foster comes to the table and Ben offers him his hand but he declines to shake it. All hell breaks loose! Thompson backhands Foster right in the mouth. But the odd thing is that the men stepped aside rather than go at it. And in a flash a fusillade of bullets kills Thompson and King Fisher. This barrage originated from above and to the left of the men. The men fell on their right sides and it seems to me that Coy then rushed up to Ben and put three rounds in his head and at least two into Fisher. Both were already dead. That's my take on it, there are others.

An autopsy performed in Austin on Thompson by Dr. Goodall Wooten, showed that every slug that hit Ben came from above & behind, hitting him in the shoulders & upper back & either ending up in his belly or groin or exiting there. They were all 200-gr flat-nose .44 Winchester slugs.

I have no idea why this is screwed up in its print but it is IMPORTANT and it is the ACTUAL words of two eyewitnesses who have absolutely nothing to gain or lose and who knew neither of the groups. Decode it as you read it. It is from the Austin Statesman Newspaper.

"Yesterday a Statesman representative
met two gentlemen who were present at
the Vaudeville theatre at the time Thomp-
son and Fisher were killed, and the ac-
count they give of the matter is so at
variance with the story told by tin-
crowd at the dive itself, that it will be
found to be most interesting reading.
Both gentlemen are from the North, and
are traveling men, one representing a
wholesale liquor house in Kentucky and
the other a wholesale tobacco house in
Chicago. They appear like very candid,
truthful men, and the story they give
corresponds so closely with the post
mortem, examination that there can be
no doubt but it is a correct statement of
the tragedy. They gave their names as
Alex T. Raymond and John K. Sublett.
These gentlemen say they happened to
be in San Antonio the night of the
tragedy. They stayed with an old ac-
quaintance, ao,id he insisted on showing
them some of the sights of the Alamo
city. They went to hear Ada Gray, and
then their friend proposed they take in
the variety theatre, and in this manner
they happened to be at the den of in-
famy. It was between eleven and twelve
o'clock when they reached this den of
sin. They were in the bar-room when
Thorn pson and Fisher came in, and their
friend informed thorn that the gentleman
who just entered was the notoriou^ Hen
Thompson. It we-; the first time they
had ever seen him, and of course their
curiosity was aroused. Their friend
then informed them that he had killed a
man in this very theatre. Jack Harris,
and that the prtsent manager had been
the partner of the man killed by Thomp-
son, and their friend remarked it was
strange Thompson should come to the
place. Neither Thompson nor Fisher
were drunk. They talked in an ordin-
ary conversational tone of voice, and
both appeared to be in the most .pleasant
humor. Soon a man came into the bar-
room, whom their friend told them was
Sims, and he walked up to Thompson and
Said. 'Hello, lien; idad to see you.' I Sen
thon introduced I. in to .Mr. Fisher, and
Fisher and Sims j-hook hands. Just then
the officer. Coy came into the hai'-roolii,
and shook hands with both the murder-
ed men. Sims then said to Thompson:
"Ben, I am awful glad to see you here.
Let us forget the past, and he friends,
in the future. Thompson replied: 'I de-
sire to hi' friends, ; nd 1 have come here
with my friend Fisher to talk the mat-
ter over, and have a perfect understand-
ing. I have a perfect right to do that,
have I not?' Sims said: 'Yes, Ben.
v . that is right, and I know \ve can all he
friends.' Hen iheu said: '1 have noth-
ing against you or Foster. I am not
afraid of you. I am here surrounded
by my friends, but I want to be friends
with you. and I have come here to talk
this over.' Sims replied: 'That is all
right; come up s.airs and see Foster;
and after taking a drink Thompson and
Fisher went up stairs to the theatre
neither the policeman nor Sims went up
with them. Ravmond and Sublett, with
their friend, told them and took a
seat a short distance from them. In a
short time they were .joined by Sims and
Coy, who sat by the side of Thompson
and Fisher, and some pleasant conversa
tion Soon a girl came along
and Thompson -ordered drinks. After
they had drank, he teased the girl about
paying for them, but finally pulled out a
very large roll of bills, saying, 'I have
lots' of money. I have $20,000 in that
roll.' and he paid the girl for the drinks.
After this he turned to Sims, saying, 'I
thought you brought me up here to see
Foster. Billy, don't you play any games
on me. I did not come here for another
fuss, and I don't w:int any. but you must
treat me fair.' Sims replied: "I am,
Ben; it's just as he told you, and I will
go and tell Foster you want to have a
friendly talk with him.' 'Yes, go and
get him,' Fisher said. '1 want to make
you fellows good friends before I leave.
I have invited Thompson here; he did
not want to come, but you are all friends
of mine, and I want you to be friends.
I told him to come and talk the matter
over like gentlemen together, and bury
the past; Thompson is willing to do it.
and I want Foster to meet him half way.'
Sims said, 'All right, I will go and tell
him.' He went into a box and came
out with Foster, and they came down
to where Thompson and Fisher were. As
they came up, Thompson, without rising,
extended his hand to Foster, and as he
did so Fisher said : 'I want you and
Thompson to be friends. You are both
friends to me, and I want you to shake
hands like gentlemen.' Foster said.'I
cannot shake hands with Ben Thompson,
nor can I be friends, and I want him to
keep out of my way.' As he said that
both Sims and Co;, stepped to one side,
at least two feet from where Thompson
and Fisher were sitting, and Foster was
about as far on the other side of them.
Thompson and Fisher sprang up. neither
had a revolver in his hand, and before
they got to their feet a volley that sound-
ed as though there were a dozen carbines
was fired from a box a little to the left
and considerably above the doomed men,
and both went down instantly. Neither
Thompson nor Fisher drew their pistols,
nor did they have time to do so. Any
statement to the contrary is without the
slightest foundation. Thompson fell on
his right side and just as soon as the
volley was fired from the box one of the
two either Sims or Coy rushed up find
drew Thompson's revolver and bent over
putting the muzzle close to his ear and
tired. He then fired two other shots in
his head and body and the other man
shot Fisher in a similar manner. Foster
tried to draw his revolver, but, it caught
and he gave it an angry jerk bringing it
out, but the jerk discharged it and the
ball struck him in the leg and he fell.
The crowd then gathered around the
dead men. 'It is monstrous,' said Mr.
Raymond, 'the evidence those fellows
gave at San Antonio, and the whole
town seems to be" in mortal fear of the
tough crowd who have their headquarters
at that den of infamy, the Vaudeville,
Thompson, no doubt, was a bad man,
but the crowd who murdered him ought
to lie hanged, for it was the coldest
blooded murder ever committed.' These
gentlemen were asked to give the name
of the friend at, San Antonio, who was
'with them, but this they refused to do,
because' they had promised him they
would not disclose his identity, as he was
afraid if these men knew he might be
used as a witness against them they
would kill him ; and he did not want to
be mixed up in it at all. He did not
want it known either that he had visit-
ed such a den, as he is one of the leading
men of the city.

"This account corresponds with the
facts shown by f he autopsy, and is no
doubt as near the truth as the public will
ever get. It is given exactly as related
to the Statesman representative."

The Vaudeville Theater, closed by police after the shooting of Ben Thompson and King Fisher two days ago, was reopened. Few people attended, however.

http://www.satheatres.com/images/albums/NewAlbum_0862a/Vaudeville_Theatre.jpg

http://www.andrewbutlerphotos.com/History/Historical-Markers-Uvalde/Uvalde-County-King-Fisher/1133396270_3ongn-L.jpg

King Fisher:

http://commercialcasino.com/gunfighters/images/kingfisher.jpg


Blood spattered photo of Ben Thompson removed from the body of King Fisher, it was inscribed to him on the back

http://www.knottingley.org/images/historical/last_photo.jpg

[Gibson]

There you go! Does the vulgarity, ******, come to mind? It seems applicable to both of these 'hombres'. No need to embellish the truth is amazing. . .

Thoughts?

jmortimer will have to find a spot on his tough guy rating scale :) BTW: I do agree as to the "Mad Trapper". His toughness is off the charts. NULLI SECUNDUS!

[9.3X62AL]

What a GREAT READ! Many thanks for sharing this information, and I look forward to further installments as time permits.

[starmac]

Gibson, it seems like you have done a lot of reaserch on the characters. I have a question about Billy the Kid that you may or may not have an opinion.
Do you think Garret killed him and he is was actually buried in Fort Sumner?

[Gibson]

Gibson, it seems like you have done a lot of reaserch on the characters. I have a question about Billy the Kid that you may or may not have an opinion.
Do you think Garret killed him and he is was actually buried in Fort Sumner?

starmac: I will post my death of "El Chivato" AKA Billy the Kid, later tonight. The short answer is, yes, I do believe Garrett killed the "Kid". I also believe our old acquaintance "Killin' Jim Miller killed Garrett. (Do you recall Jim Miller? In my mind, he was the inspiration for the no-name Clint Eastwood character with the pig iron plate. Miller pulled that trick TWICE. However being one of the deadliest killers of the old west he had no need for it a third time. He leveled a double barreled shotgun on the batwings of a saloon and blew Bud Frazer's head off, for all intents and purposes. Mean, mean, mean. Jim then told his Frazer's sister who rushed him with a sixgun, "I will shoot you right in the face". Whew. . .)

[Gibson]

What a GREAT READ! Many thanks for sharing this information, and I look forward to further installments as time permits.

You betcha!

I think it'll have to be the end of the trail for "Billy", next. I follow Utley, Wallis, and Coe. Mostly. . .

[Gibson]

Deacon Jim/Killin' Jim Miller/James B. Miller

Miller on left:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-outlaws/JimMillerHanging-500.jpg

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/3/3c/JamesBrownMiller1_f.jpg/220px-JamesBrownMiller1_f.jpg

Miller married John Wesley Hardin's cousin. Hardin was later hired by Miller over a murder charge. . . Cannot make this stuff up



http://www.jcs-group.com/oldwest/ahpeople/miller1.jpg

[starmac]

I never paid much attention to the squabble of the Kids death, or even realized that somebody had come close to being pardoned, but I have reasons of my own to wonder with no answers.
I spent my last two years of high school close to Fort Sumner, and the old timers there (several of them) claimed he had been back and they had personally seen and talked with him. Whether there is any truth to that or not, I don't really know, but I always liked to listen to the old timers, and they at least sounded sincere. That is one of the reasons that I kind of wonder about it, one other is that I married into a family that is some kind of round about way kin to him, and several of their old timers claimed he wasn't buried in Ft Sumner.
I do know one thing, I was basically raised in the houston area, and when I was probably 8 or so years old, my dad who normally had no much good to say about any of the old outlaws, other than an admiration of some of them that had proven to be pretty tough men, mentioned that Billy the Kid was a product of the lincoln war and that pretty much sealed his fate to be an outlaw, whether he wanted to be or not. He also told me that there were more than one grave for him. He even told me where one was located in texas, which I pretty much forgot about. In 76 I was pretty wild and single and was passing through Ft Sumner, The whole town was on the side walks partying, big washtubs full of beer everywhere free for the taking, (I guess) so I parked and started helping them with the beer. I finally ask what the celebration was for and was told that they Had brought Billy the Kids gravestone that day. It had been stolen in 58 and had been found where my dad had told me there was another grave for him, which was just a few miles from my great grands farm where my grandad grew up and lived his life and my dad was raised on. My dad just happened to have been working in FT Sumner as a powder monkey in 58, I regret not ever asking him about it while he was still with us.

[chasweav]

Gibson, Thank you so much, this is fantastic reading..Thanks again, Charlie

[Gibson]

Gibson, Thank you so much, this is fantastic reading..Thanks again, Charlie

Charlie, I'm glad to oblige.

I fear that the old-timers will be forgotten. Both the lawmen and the badmen. . . Sad. As I posted before, I tend to idealize the old time cow puncher. And even admire the sand of the badmen and the 'goodmen'.

http://home.planet.nl/~huisi023/Pictures/AmericanArt/album/slides/20091009%20-%20D90%20-%20TX%20-%20Fort%20Worth%20Art%20-%20Charles%20Russell%20%20-%20Loops%20and%20Horses%20(1).JPG

http://0.tqn.com/d/arthistory/1/0/9/w/cmrretro_dam_1209_14.jpg

[jmort]

I'm giving Ben Thompson 5/5 for two good reasons. First his quote:

"I always make it a rule to let the other fellow fire first. If a man wants to fight, I argue the question with him and try to show him how foolish it would be. If he can't be dissuaded, why then the fun begins but I always let him have first crack. Then when I fire, you see, I have the verdict of self-defence on my side. I know that he is pretty certain in his hurry, to miss. I never do."
-Ben Thompson, pistoleer

As I said before, it may not always work but it pays to be deliberate and make your first shot count. Easier said than done and second, quote from Bat Masterson

"It is doubtful if in his time there was another man living who equalled him
with a pistol in a life-and-death struggle" - Bat Masterson

Now King Fisher I'll have to give him 5/5 as well (I know seems like grade inflation) based on this incident alone:

"In '77 he ran upon a group of Mexican rustlers, one made the fatal mistake of pulling a sixgun and firing at King. King leapt from his own mount and took the Mexican to the ground. He snatched the sixgun and killed three of the Mexicans with it instantly."

It takes tough guy nerves of steel to decisively act and defeat multiple foes.

[Gibson]

PROLOGUE:

Wyatt Earp was a scoundrel, of this there can be no honest doubt. But he was indeed tough when he had to be and tough where his brothers were concerned. The following is a valuable prologue for folks. If it were simply an attempt to take the "piss" out of Earp then I would ignore it but it involves another figure, THE SHOOTIST.

Recall these these three facts before you read this:

1) Clay Allison absolutely a man killer, double tough, and fearless.

2) Earp came up with this account in 1896, years after Clay was dead.

3) Chalk Beeson and Dick McNulty were BUSINESS MEN and their actions were a request as men trying to protect their own interests. They were NOT law officers, they were asking and reasoning with Allison.

Lastly, this just proves that the word of one the coolest cats ever to sit a horse and absolutely a guy who had seen it all and was no shrinking violet, Charlie Siringo had the story right. He was there. Any man who wrote a book entitled:

"A Texas Cowboy: or, Fifteen Years on the Hurricane Deck of a Spanish Pony"

has got to be cool!

Dodge City, Kansas 1878.

" At the same time, the police were "buffaloing" herders with near impunity. An item in the August 6, 1878, issue of the Globe berates an unnamed officer for beating a Mexican prisoner unmercifully. "The policeman who pounded the Mexican over the head with a six-shooter last Thursday [August 1] night, did not display either much manhood or bravery. When we consider the fact that the poor 'greaser' was sitting on a bench almost helpless from the effects of a previous beating, we don't think that even a Dodge City policeman who is nearly the greatest man in the world, has any right to walk deliberately up to him without any provocations, and knock out one or two of his eyes." According to the Dodge City Police Court Docket, the arrested man was Guadelupe Flores for drunk and disorderly. Flores plead guilty to this charge. However, the police court docket contains this note: "But upon examination of the circumstances connected with the case the court finds that he is not guilty as charged and that he be discharged...." There can be little doubt that the court felt Mr. Flores had suffered enough at the hands of the Dodge City Police.

A meeting of the populace was called to discuss the inaction of the officers concerning the criminal element infesting Dodge. Even the allied Dodge City Times was wondering about the advisability of forming a grand jury to contend with the problem. Such was the dissatisfaction of the people during that summer of '78.

Concurrently, the cattlemen of Texas indignant about the perceived mistreatment of their men and were not about to stand for it. In a letter dated at Lewistown, Montana, September 30, 1934, cowboy Pink Simms wrote: "A drunken cowboy had been shot to death while shooting a pistol in the air in the streets of Dodge. He worked for, or at least, was a friend of, Clay Allison. Others had been robbed, shot, and beaten over the head with revolvers and the cowmen were indignant about it. It was stated that the marshals were all pimps, gamblers and saloonkeepers. They had the cowboys disarmed, and with their teeth pulled they were harmless. If they got too bad or went and got a gun, they were cut down with shotguns. Allison...[was] going to protest over the treatment of [his] men and of course the salty old Clay was willing to back his arguments with gunsmoke." The charged atmosphere around Dodge made an explosion a very real possibility.

Robert Andrew Clay Allison was already a western legend when he came to Dodge in 1878, while Wyatt Earp would not become famous for several years. The Dodge City newspapers noted Allison's comings and goings and the Kinsley Graphic of December 14, 1878, had this to say when Clay stopped there. "Clay Allison, well known on the frontier and western Kansas, but better known in western Texas, for daring deeds and the number of affrays with knife and navy he engaged in, has been to town for several days this week. His appearance is striking. Tall, straight as an arrow, dark complexioned, carries himself with ease and grace, gentlemanly and courteous in manner, never betraying by word or action the history of his eventful life."

Allison "notches" included Chunk Colbert, regionally infamous man-killer; Francisco Griego, another locally noted gunfighter; and Las Animas officer Charles Fabre. Numerous are the stories of his exploits, some fact, some fiction. All stories, factual or otherwise, led to Clay Allison being one of the most feared men of the west when he arrived in Dodge City, in September of 1878.

The first known written record of the Allison/Earp clash is an interview with Wyatt Earp published in the San Francisco Examiner of August 16, 1896. The pertinent parts of the article are these:

"And so Clay Allison came to town, and for a whole day behaved like a veritable chesterfield [perfect gentleman]. But the next morning one of my policemen woke me up to tell me that the bad man from Colorado was loaded up with a pair of six-shooters and a mouth full of threats. Straightway I put my guns on and went down the street with Bat Masterson. Now, Bat had a shotgun in the District Attorney's office, which was behind a drugstore just opposite Wright's store. He thought the weapon might come in handy in case of trouble, so he skipped across the street to get it. But not caring to be seen with such a weapon before there was any occasion for it, he stayed over there, talking to some people outside the drugstore, while I went into Webster's Saloon looking for Allison. I saw at a glance that my man wasn't there, and had just reached the sidewalk to turn into the Long Branch, next door, when I met him face to face. We greeted each other with caution .... and as we spoke backed carelessly up against the wall, I on the right. There we stood, measuring each other with sideways glances. An onlooker across the street might have thought we were old friends.

'So,' said Allison truculently, 'you're the man that killed my friend Hoyt.'

'Yes, I guess I'm the man you're looking for,' said I.

His right hand was stealing round to his pistol pocket, but I made no move. Only I watched him narrowly. With my own right hand I had a firm grip on my six-shooter, and with my left I was ready to grab Allison's gun the moment he jerked it out. He studied the situation in all its bearings for the space of a second or two. I saw the change in his face.

'I guess I'll go round the corner,' he said abruptly.

'I guess you'd better,' I replied.

And he went.

In the meantime ten or a dozen of the worst Texans in town were laying low in Bob Wright's Store, with their Winchesters, ready to cover Allison's retreat out of town, or help him in the killing, if necessary. From where he had stationed himself Bat Masterson could see them, but I did not know they were there. After the encounter with Allison I moved up the street and would have passed Bob Wright's door had not Bat, from across the street signaled to me to keep out of range. A moment later Allison, who had mounted his horse, rode out in front of Webster's and called to me.

'Come over here, Wyatt,' he said, 'I want to talk to you.'

'I can hear you all right here,' I replied. 'I think you came here to fight with me, and if you did you can have it right now.'

Several friends of mine wanted me to take a shotgun, but I thought I could kill him all right with a six-shooter. At that moment Bob Wright came running down the street to urge Allison to go out of town. He had experienced a sudden change of heart because Bat had crossed over to him with these portentous words: 'If this fight comes up, Wright, you're the first man I'm going to kill.' Allison listened to the legislator's entreaties with a scowl.

'Well I don't like you any too well,' he said, 'there were a lot of your friends to be here this morning to help me out, but I don't see them round now.'

'Earp,' he continued, turning to me and raising his voice. 'I believe you're a pretty good man from what I've seen of you. Do you know that these coyotes sent for me to make a fight with you and kill you? Well, I'm going to ride out of town, and I wish you good luck.'

Charles A. Siringo's very different account in his 1927 book Riada and Spurs, is often dismissed by historians due to lack of corroborating evidence (perhaps too, because his version makes Wyatt Earp look bad). As we will see, there actually is contemporary evidence backing Siringo's presence in Dodge at the proper time.

Siringo wrote:

"About the first of October eight hundred fat steers were cut out of my four herds and started for Dodge City, Kansas.... I secured permission [from owner David T. Beals] to ... accompany them to Chicago....

"A 25-mile ride brought us to the toughest town on earth, Dodge City. It was now daylight, and the first man on the main street was Cape Willingham, who at this writing is a prosperous cattle broker in El Paso, Texas. Cape gave us our first news of the great Indian outbreak. [Dull Knife's raid through Kansas.] He told of the many murders committed by the reds south of Dodge City the day previous - one man was killed at Mead City, and two others near the Crooked Creek store. "Riding up the main street Ferris and I saw twenty-five mounted cowboys, holding rifles in their hands, and facing one of the half-dozen saloons, adjoining each other, on that side of the street [Front Street]. In passing this armed crowd one of them recognized me. Calling me by name he said: 'Fall in line quick, h--l is going to pop in a few minutes.'

"We jerked our Winchester rifles from the scabbards and fell in line, like most any other fool cowboys would have done. In a moment Clay Allison, the man-killer, came out of one of the saloons holding a pistol in his hand. With him was Mr. McNulty, owner of the large Panhandle "Turkey-track" cattle outfit. Clay was hunting for some of the town policemen, or the city marshal, so as to wipe them off the face of the earth. His twenty-five cowboy friends had promised to help him clean up Dodge City.

"After all the saloons had been searched, Mr. McNulty succeeded in getting Clay to bed at the Bob Wright Hotel. Then we all dispersed. Soon after, the city law officers began to crawl out of their hiding places, and appear on the street."

Robert K. DeArment, from this account, deduced in his biography Bat Masterson: The Man and the Legend, that the incident must have happened on September 17 or 18, 1878. Used as evidence is Siringo's placing the affair at the time of the Dull Knife raid through Kansas, specifically Meade. The papers of the day make it plain that the killings at Meade occurred on September 16, 1878. Dodge City heard of the raid on Meade on September 17, 1878.

With more than 40 years separating the incident and the retelling, Siringo's estimation of the first part of October is only a close approximation. An item in the October 8, 1878, issue of the Globe reinforces the year and indicates that in all probability the event happened in mid September. It says D. T. Beals shipped 25 carloads of cattle to Chicago between October 1 and October 7, 1878. The same issue of the Globe shows Dick McNulty, the hero of Siringo's story, to have shipped 18 carloads of cattle from Dodge City to Kansas City the same week, putting him in Dodge at about the same time.

Now consider the following news item from the Dodge City Times of September 21, 1878. "There was a scrimmage Thursday night, [September 19] between some of the officers and the party that were going on the Indian hunt. Several shots were fired. One man carries a bandaged head and a soldier was severely wounded in the leg. A disgraceful row occurred in the afternoon, in which it is said the officers failed to appear [emphasis added]. These occurrences are the subjects of much comment on the conduct of the officers."

Is this reference to a "disgraceful row" on September 19, the extent of the reporting of Clay Allison's "hunt for trouble?" That "the officers failed to appear" is consistent the account of not only Siringo but another participant, Chalk Beeson.

I recently re-discovered an interview with Beeson, datelined Topeka, January 17, [1903] (Special). It seems to confirm the Siringo account. The interview is found in a Beeson family scrapbook on file at the Boot Hill Museum in Dodge City, Kansas. The originating publication is not identified.

Chalkley McArtor Beeson was co-owner of the Long Branch saloon in Dodge, city councilman, two-time sheriff of Ford County, and four-time state legislator representing Ford County in Topeka. He was described by one newspaper as "a quiet, almost noiseless man of medium size." His hometown newspaper once described Beeson as the "man of the hour." Indeed, the city of Dodge named a street after him many years ago. Here are the pertinent portions of that interview.

"Topeka, Jan. 17. (Special.) ... Chalk Beeson is dean of the outfit. He migrated to the Western plains with the buffalo.... 'The noted Clay Allison with his gang of untamed cowboys came to Dodge one day to start some trouble,' continued Beeson. 'They soon found it. Erp [sic] was marshal [assistant marshal] at the time. He notified the boys to be on guard. I saw that a clash was coming.'

'Dick McNulty and myself held a brief conference. Something had to be done, and done quickly to prevent a wholesale killing. We took our lives in our hands and went to Allison and his gang and told them, as friends, that they had better not start anything. We argued with them while the lines were forming for a general battle. They finally yielded and handed us their guns, which we kept until they got ready to leave town. After giving up their guns they were in no danger. No one there would be so mean as to jump on to them when they were unarmed. That was against the rules of civilized warfare as construed in Dodge.'"

The only mention by Beeson of Wyatt Earp is that he "notified the boys to be on guard." Notice also, that Dick McNulty is responsible for disarming Allison - Siringo said the same thing.

Much weight must be given to the account of Chalk Beeson. Mr. Beeson's integrity has, to my knowledge, never been seriously questioned. He was in Dodge on September 19, 1878.

These three participants--Earp, Siringo, and Beeson--all tell of Clay Allison coming to Dodge City hunting trouble. The reason for Allison's trip could very well be the one put forth by Texan Pink Simms; the mistreatment of the cowboys in general and the shooting of George Hoy.

From these three accounts, perhaps a likely scenario can be put together. While the Texan Siringo wrote of the cowardice of the officers, Dodge City partisan Beeson takes a different stance. A case can be made for the following reconstruction of events.

It would seem that Charles Siringo hit Dodge on September 19, 1878, where he heard the reports of Indian depredations south of Dodge from Cape Willingham. There he met an indignant Clay Allison, backed by his "untamed cowboys". Allison was intent upon getting to the bottom of the George Hoy killing while forcing the Dodge City police to ease up on his friends. Likely the mob went from saloon to saloon, maintaining their courage with whisky at each stop. As the anger increased, so did the fury of the protestations with all its accompanying shooting and shouting until it became a "disgraceful row" by early afternoon.

Knowing that 25 rowdy cowboys backed Allison, Wyatt Earp and policeman Jim Masterson (Bat's brother) began to assemble their forces. In the meantime, Dick McNulty and Chalk Beeson intervened on behalf of the town, convincing Allison and his "gang of untamed cowboys" to give up their guns. The gang then dispersed. Two participants verify this action on the part of McNulty.

While the gang was being talked out of their guns, the officers still had not confronted Allison and his friends. This inaction would have seemed like cowardice to Clay Allison and his gang, dereliction of duty to the townspeople. Therefore, we have the Globe of the 21st adding, "it is said the officers failed to appear. These occurrences are the subjects of much comment on the conduct of the officers."

There seems to be no evidence that any kind of showdown occurred between Wyatt Earp and Clay Allison per the Examiner interview. Neither Beeson nor Siringo mention anything about it. In addition, there is evidence that Robert Wright and Bat Masterson could not be involved. They were both out of town during the Dull Knife raid.

Evidence for a "conversation" between Allison and Earp is sparse. A likely scenario for this meeting is the one put forth by Pink Simms. "I also heard that later Allison alone found Wyatt Earp seated in the lookout's chair at a faro game and he told him in no uncertain terms what he thought of the way some of the cowboys were being treated." We have in this a highly believable proposition. Allison had no fear of being gunned down. As Beeson so eloquently put it, "[n]o one there would be so mean as to jump on to them when they were unarmed. That was against the rules of civilized warfare as construed in Dodge.

Mr. Beeson's story seems to enforce the one told by Charles Siringo. It is clear that for whatever reason, Wyatt Earp backed by Bat Masterson did not quell the disturbance. That honor must go to Dick McNulty and Chalk Beeson."

I know it's odd but it's my introduction to the "Gunfight at the O.K. Corral" (Yeah, we know it wasn't at the Corral) :)

The Shootist:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/Photos-Cimarron/ClayAllisonAge45-500.jpg

Wyatt Earp, seated second from left, and his Dodge City cohorts:

http://wiki-images.enotes.com/thumb/0/0b/WyattEarp-andothers.jpg/300px-WyattEarp-andothers.jpg


Charlie Siringo, the real deal, 1890s:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-oldwest/Charles%20Siringo-3.jpg

[Gibson]

My sketch does not go into the legions of disputable accounts of the background that lead to this fight.

Summary: Earps and their antagonists were both dirty to more or less degrees. The Earps pushed for the fight and their antagonists came into town that day mouthing off but clearly not expecting the push back that came from the Earp faction. Recall the Eastwood movie, "He shoulda armed himself"? Well through the years, it has become clear to me that the so-called "cowboys" were not so well armed, at all. The Earps/Holliday were bullies, no doubt, but they meant business and the cowboys should well have known NOT to come into to town talking that street smack about killing Virgil on sight. We have already seen above, how one of the Earps (Wyatt) behaves when a man who means business comes into town to handle the situation. These cowboys were big talkers on that day but really not prepared for the hard response that the Earps and Holliday dealt out. Not to say, that the cowboys were unfamiliar with 'gunplay'. They weren't. But it just seems that they came to town to do some smack talking and put a bit of fear into the natives. The Earps and Holliday were not afraid, AT ALL.

Both groups had their OWN best interests at heart. This was not a battle of law and disorder.

Let us first take a couple of disinterested women's testimony. These two are simple and in my mind honest recitations of what they observed.

Martha King:


On this fourth day of November, 1881, on the hearing of the above entitled cause of the examination of Wyatt Earp and J. H. Holliday; Mrs. Martha J. King, a witness of lawful age, being produced and sworn, deposes and says as follows:

Mrs. Martha J. King, a housewife of Tombstone, says she was in Bauer's butcher shop on Fremont Street at the time the shooting com*menced, and heard it. She saw some armed parties pass the door. She could not say they were all armed. "I saw one man, Mr. Holliday, with arms. He had a gun. I mean a gun, not a pistol. I cannot tell the difference between a shotgun and a rifle. Do not know whether he had a shotgun or a rifle."

She identifies Holliday. She says he had an overcoat and his gun on the left side, with his arm thrown over it, and the gun under his coat. "I saw the gun under the coat as he was walking and his coat would fly open." She saw the Earp party first between the butcher shop and the Post Office, going down Fremont Street toward Third Street. She only knew the Earp brothers by sight. She says Holliday was on the side next to the building. She heard them say something. The one on the outside looked around to Holliday and said, "Let them have it!" He [Holliday] replied, "All right." She heard nothing else. She did not see any of the fight. She ran back in the shop. She does not know the Sheriff by sight. She did not see anyone talking to the Earps. She says the one who said, "Let them have it!" has been pointed out to her as one of the Earp brothers.

(Q) Did you know what was meant by the words? "Let them have it!"?

(A) I suppose I did. saw a man just previous to that holding a horse and he said to another man, "If you wish to find us, you will find us just below here.”

(Q) How long before the men passed the door was it that you heard the man holding the horse say, "You will find us just below here."?

(A) I don't think it was more than four or five minutes. Witness gives more detail of the various positions of the men and where she was [just inside the folding doors of the market]. She did not hear any other words other than those already quoted.

(Q) Was the hearing of those words the only reason you had for knowing who was meant by the word, "them?"

(A) When I first went in the shop, the parties who keep the shop seemed to be excited and did not want to wait on me. I inquired what was the matter, and they said there was about to be a fight between the Earp boys and the cowboys, and they said the party who had the horse was one of the cowboys.

[Objected to. Overruled, exception noted.]

Further questioning as to whether she was frightened. Then to query says she did not see anyone speak to the Earp party to try to stop them. She believes she would have seen any person that had come close to them.

Addie Bourland:


On this twenty-eighth day of November, 1881, on the hearing of the above entitled cause, on the examination of Wyatt Earp and J. H. Hol*liday; Addie Bourland, a witness of lawful age, being produced and sworn, deposes and says as follows;

Addie Bourland, a dressmaker, of Tombstone, Arizona.

(Q) [No written question.]

(A) I live on the opposite side of Fremont Street from the entrance to Fly's lodging house.

(Q) Questioned on the difficulty.

(A) I saw first five men opposite my house, leaning against a small house [the Harwood house] west of Fly's Gallery and one man was holding a horse [Frank McLaury], standing a little out from the house. I supposed them to be cowboys, and saw four men [the Earps and Doc Holliday] coming down the street towards them, and a man with a long coat on [Doc Holliday] walked up to the man holding the horse and put a pistol to his stomach and then he, the man with the long coat on, stepped back two or three feet, and then the firing seemed to be general. That is all I saw.

(Q) Where were you at the time you saw this?

(A) I was in my house at the window.

(Q) How long after the two parties met, did the firing commence?

(A) It was very shortly, only a few seconds.

(Q) Which party fired first?

(A) I don't know.

(Q) Were you looking at both parties when the firing commenced?

(A) I was looking at them, but not at anyone in particular. I did not know there was going to be a difficulty.

(Q) Did you know, or do you know now, the man with the long coat on?

(A) I did not know him then. I recognize Doctor Holliday, the man sitting there writing, as the man to the best of my judgment.

(Q) Did you notice the character of weapon Doc Holliday had in his hand?

(A) It was a very large pistol.

(Q) Did you notice the color of the pistol?

(A) It was dark bronze.

(Q) Was it or was it not, a nickel-plated pistol?

(A) It was not a nickel-plated pistol.

(Q) Did you see at the time of the approach of the party descending Fremont Street, any of the party you thought were cowboys, throw up their hands?

(A) I did not.

(Q) Did you hear any conversation or exclamation between the two parties after they met, and before the firing commenced?

(A) I did not, for my door was closed.

(Q) How long did you continue to look at the parties after they met?

(A) Until they commenced to fire and I got up then and went into my back room.

(Q) What did these men that you speak of as cowboys’ first do when the other party approached them?

(A) They came out to meet them from the side of the house, and this man with the long coat on stepped up and put his pistol to the stomach of the man who was holding the horse, and stepped back two or three feet and the firing seemed to be general.

(Q) About how many shots were fired before you left the window?

(A) I could not tell; all was confusion, and I could not tell.

(Q) Were all the parties shooting at each other at the time you were looking at them?

(A) It looked to me like it.

(Q) Had any of the parties fallen at the time you left the window?

(A) I saw no parties fall.



[Signed] Addie Bourland



ADDIE BOURLAND IS RECALLED BY THE COURT


[Inserted loose part of page reads: "The prosecution objects to the further examination of the witness Addie Bourland after she has been examined by the defense, and cross-examined by the prosecution, her testimony read to her and signed by her and not brought before the court at the solicitation of counsel on either side. The court voluntarily states that after recess, and the witness had retired, he went to see the witness at her house and talked with her about what she might further know about the case, and that he, of his own motion, says that he believed she knew more than she had testified to on her examination, now introduces her upon the stand for the purpose or" further examination without the solicitation of either the prosecution or defense.]

[Objection overruled, and questions asked of witness by the court as follows:]

(Q) You say in your examination in chief, that you were looking at parties engaged in [the] fatal affray in Tombstone on the 26th of October last, at the time the firing commenced. Please state the position in which the party called the cowboys held their hands at the time the firing commenced; that is, were they holding up their hands, or were they firing back at the other party. State the facts as particularly as may be.

[Counsel for the prosecution objects to court questioning witness after he admits he has talked with the witness, etc., crossed out.]

(A) I didn't see anyone holding up their hands; they all seemed to be firing in general, on both sides. They were firing on both sides, at each other; I mean by this at the time the firing commenced.

RE-CROSS EXAMINATION


(Q) Did you say this morning, that you did not see who fired the first shot?

(A) I did say so.

(Q) Did you say this morning, there were two shots fired close together?

(A) I did not.

(Q) Did you say there were any shots fired at all?

(A) I did.

(Q) Did you say this morning, that when the first two or four shots were fired, you were excited and confused, and got up from the window and went into the back room?

(A) I didn't say how many shots were fired, for I didn't know when I went into the other room.

(Q) What conversation did you have with Judge Spicer, if any, with reference to your testimony to be given here since you signed your testimony this morning?

(A) He asked me one or two questions in regard to seeing the difficulty, and if I saw any men throw up their hands, whether I would have seen it, and I told him I thought I would have seen it.

(Q) Did you not testify this morning that those men did not throw up their hands that you saw?

(A) Yes sir, I did.

signed Addie Bourland

Read these closely and bear this in mind as to character of the "judge": He defended John D. Lee, rather outrageously. Google it.

Tomorrow, the fight.

[I'll add this, the more I have read of late the more I back "The Nugget" version of the story. Contrary to what is now in vogue, this was, indeed, a FIGHT. I think something on the order of 37 rounds were fired.]

[Gibson]

The reality of the fight is that there were no REAL good guys. There were two shades of gray. In retrospect it seems a somewhat fair way of looking at it would be the interests of the land barons/big money mining interests versus the smaller ranchers/cowboys. However, both sides were represented by the baser elements in this fight.

It was mid afternoon on October 26, 1881 when the brothers Earp along with John Henry Holliday gathered on the street. It was indeed the gathering storm. These were grim men with set jaws and they had at least one "branch of the law" on their side. Indeed, they would later cloak themselves in it.

The pretext of the fight is indeed complex and simple. LOL! Let us skip the complex and just hit the simple. . .

Wyatt Earp wanted the lucrative job of sheriff that belonged to Johnny Behan. VERY lucrative! There was a history here, on both sides. Earp saw an opportunity to get a leg up in the coming election and tried to exploit it to unseat Behan. This "leg" came in the form of a stage robbery. Wyatt had brokered a deal with Ike Clanton to reveal the names of the three robbers to him, thus allowing him (a faro dealer with connections to the law) to get them arrested and take the credit. Clanton's impetus was the reward money he would be slipped by Earp. Unfortunately for Ike two of the three robbers got themselves by Mexican troops, his deal was out the window. Well, as these things tend to do, to much talking lead to Ike's life becoming VERY cheap. He rode into town to confront Earp for big-mouthing. Clanton was certain that Earp had shot off his mouth to his loyal friend, the good doctor Holliday.

From an article by Casey Tefertiller and Jeff Morey, October 2001, "Wild West magazine":

"Holliday met with Clanton on the night of October 25 in the Occidental Saloon. By the Earp account, Holliday was angry that Clanton had made a false accusation against him. As Ike told it, Holliday called him a 'damned liar [who] had threatened the Earps….He told me to pull out my gun and if there was any grit in me, to go to fighting.' Clanton, who was unarmed, said that Holliday ordered him to retrieve his gun. Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan Earp appeared to break up the fight, with Wyatt walking Holliday back to his room at Fly's lodging house.

Then came perhaps the most improbable event of the day. Ike Clanton, after retrieving his six-shooter, sat down to a poker game with Virgil Earp, Tom McLaury, John Behan and one other player. It would be like 'Ike' Eisenhower pitching pennies with Adolf Hitler before the Battle of the Bulge. The game broke up around 7 a.m., with Ike Clanton requesting that Virgil deliver a message to Holliday: 'The damned son of a Rosie O’Donnell has got to fight,' Ike supposedly told Virgil. Virgil said he responded: 'Ike, I am an officer, and I don?t want to hear you talking that way at all. I am going down home now to go to bed, and I don?t want you to raise any disturbance when I am in bed."You won?t carry a message?' Ike asked. Virgil said he would not. 'You may have to fight before you know it,' Ike said as Virgil walked away. Through the rest of the morning, Ike fueled his anger with whiskey, lurching from saloon to saloon to talk tough and make threats against the Earps. 'He said that as soon as the Earps and Doc Holliday showed themselves on the street, the ball would open and that they would have to fight,' said Ned Boyle, bartender at the Oriental Saloon, who went to awaken Wyatt and tell him of the threat. Deputy Marshal Andy Bronk also heard of the threats and woke Virgil. Injudiciously, both Wyatt and Virgil went back to sleep and ignored Ike's ire.

About noon on the 26th, Virgil and Morgan Earp spotted Ike carrying a six-shooter and a rifle. Virgil crashed his revolver into Ike's head, then led the bloodied Cowboy to Judge Albert O. Wallace's courtroom. Wyatt Earp entered the room and said: 'You damn dirty cow thief. You have been threatening our lives, and I know it. I think I would be justified in shooting you down any place I would meet you. But if you are anxious to make a fight, I will go anywhere on earth to make a fight with you — even over to San Simon among your crowd.'

'Fight is my racket, and all I want is 4 feet of ground,' Clanton responded. 'If you fellows had been a second later, I would have furnished a Coroner's Inquest for this town.' Morgan Earp held up Ike's gun and taunted him, saying he would pay the fine if Ike would make a fight. Ike refused, saying he did not like the odds. Wallace fined Ike $25 for carrying firearms in the city limits. As Wyatt stepped out of the courtroom, he encountered Tom McLaury and engaged in an argument that led to Earp slapping the cowboy with his left hand, then beating him over the head with a six-shooter. Frank McLaury and Billy Clanton rode into town and stopped at the saloon in the Grand Hotel. Cowboy pal Billy Claiborne told them of the beatings delivered to their brothers, and Frank dropped his whiskey glass without taking a sip."

The fight occurred in a fifteen- to twenty-foot space (used as an alleyway) between Fly's Lodging House and photographic studio, and the MacDonald assay house west of it. The end of the gunfight took place in Fremont Street. Some of the fighting was in Fremont Street in front of the alleyway. About thirty shots were fired in thirty seconds.

Thus, at very near 3:00 in the afternoon, on a day in which a biting wind swirled cut through Tombstone, a whirlwind was about to be reaped.

[Gibson]

Billy Clanton was easily the toughest man on EITHER side.

Tombstone Nugget of October 27, 1881:

"It was now about two o'clock, and at this time Sheriff Behan appeared upon the scene and told Marshal Earp that if he disarmed his posse, composed of Morgan and Wyatt Earp, and Doc Holliday, he would go down to the O.K. Corral where Ike and James [sic] Clanton and Frank and Tom McLowry were and disarm them. The Marshal did not desire to do this until assured that there was no danger of attack from the other party. The Sheriff went to the corral and told the cowboys that they must put their arms away and not have any trouble. Ike Clanton and Tom McLowry said they were not armed, and Frank McLowry said he would not lay his aside. In the meantime the Marshal had concluded to go and, if possible, end the matter by disarming them, and as he and his posse came down Fremont Street towards the corral, the Sheriff stepped out and said: "Hold up boys, don't go down there or there will be trouble: I have been down there to disarm them." But they passes on, and when within a few feet of the the Marshal said to the Clantons and McLowrys: "Throw up your hands boys, I intend to disarm you."

As he spoke, Frank McLowry made a motion to draw his revolver, when Wyatt Earp pulled his and shot him, the ball striking on the right side of his abdomen. About the same time Doc Holliday shot Tom McLowry in the right side using a short shotgun, such as is carried by Wells-Fargo & Co.'s messengers. IN the meantime Billy Clanton had shot at Morgan Earp, the ball passing through the point of the left shoulder blade across the back, just grazing the backbone and coming out at the shoulder, the ball remaining inside his shirt. He fell to the ground but in an instant gathered himself, and raising in a sitting position fired at Frank McLowry as he crossed Freemont Street, and at the same instant Doc Holliday shot at him, both balls taking effect either of which would have proved fatal, as one struck him in the right temple and the other in the left breast. As he started across the street, however, he pulled his gun down on Holliday saying, "I've got you now." "Blaze away! You're a daisy if you have, " replied Doc. This shot of McLowry's passed through Holliday's pistol pocket, just grazing the skin.

While this was going on Billy Clanton had shot Virgil Earp in the right leg, the ball passing through the calf, inflicting a severe flesh wound. In turn he had been shot by Morgan Earp in the right wrist and once in the left breast. Soon after the shooting commenced Ike Clanton ran through the O.K. Corral, across Allen Street into Kellogg's saloon and thence into Toughnut street where he was arrested and taken to the county jail. The firing altogether didn't occupy more than twenty-five seconds, during which time fully thirty shots wree fired. After the fight was over Billy Clanton, who, with wonderful vitality, survived his wounds for fully an hour, was carried by the editor and foreman of the Nugget into a house near where he lay, and everything possible was done to make his last moments easy. He was "game" to the last, never uttering a word of complaint, and just before breathing his last he said, "Goodbye boys; go away and let me die." The wounded were taken to their houses, and at three o'clock next morning were resting comfortably. The dead bodies were taken in charge by the Coroner, and an inquest will be held upon them at 10 o'clock today. Upon the person of Thomas McLowry was found between $300 and $400 and checks and certificates of deposit to the amount of nearly $3,000.

During the shooting Sheriff Behan was standing nearby commanding the contestants to cease firing but was powerless to prevent it. Several parties who were in the vicinity of the shooting had "narrow escapes" from being shot. One man who had lately arrived from the east had a ball pass through his pants. He left for home this morning. A person called "the Kid" who shot Hicks at Charleston recently, was also grazed by a ball. When the Vizina [mine] whistle gave the signal that there was a conflict between the officers and cowboys, the mines on the hill shut down and the miners were brought to the surface. From the Contention mine a number of men, fully armed, were sent to town on a four-horse carriage. At the request of the Sheriff the "Vigilantes," or Committee of Safety, wre called from the streets by a few sharp toots from the Vizina's whistle. During the early part of the evening there was a rumor that a mob would attempt to take Ike Clanton frm the jail and lynch him, and to prevent any such unlawful proceedings a strong guard of deputtes [sic] was placed around that building and will be so continued until all danger is past.

At 8 o'clock last evening Finn Clanton, a brother of Billy and Ike, came to town, and placing himself under the guard of the Sheriff, visited the morgue to see the remains of his brother, and then passed the night in jail in company with the other."

Two accounts:

Wyatt Earp:

1. The McLaurys and Clantons became upset when my brothers and I tried to enforce a promise that the Cowboys return mules they had stolen. The men mad "threats against our lives."
2. In subsequent months, the McLaurys continued to make threats against us.
3. Thinking that obtaining an arrest of the persons responsible for a recent stagecoach killing might aid my campaign to become sheriff, I made a secret promise with Ike Clanton to get him reward money if he would lead me to the men responsible--either dead or alive.
4. After midnight on October 26, Doc Holliday and Ike Clanton get into a quarrel and "they had to be separated by Virgil and Morgan (Earp)."
5. I tried to calm Ike Clanton down, but he threatened us, saying, "I will be ready for you in the morning."
6. The next morning I heard reports that Ike Clanton was "hunting us boys."
7. After Clanton was arrested and brought to court, Tom McLaury showed up and threatened "to make a fight." "I hit him on the head with my six-shooter and walked away."
8. Later, as I met with my brothers and Holliday at Fourth and Allen Streets, we heard that the McLaurys and the Clantons, "all armed," had gone into "the O.K. Corral." Virgil asked the assistance of myself, Morgan, and Doc in disarming them.
9. As we walked in the direction of the Clantons and McLaurys, Sheriff Behan told us, "I have disarmed them." We continued walking toward where we were told the Clantons and McLaurys would be.
10. When we saw them in the lot, Frank McLaury's and Billy Clanton's guns were plainly visible.
11. Virgil asked the men to surrender, saying, "Throw up your hands, I have come to disarm you."
12. At Virgil's words, Billy and Frank went for their guns.
13. When Billy and Frank drew their guns, I drew mine and fired at Frank. "The first two shots were fired by Billy Clanton and myself, he shooting at me, and I shooting at Frank McLaury." My shot hit Frank "in the belly," but he managed to get off a shot at me.
14. "After about four shots were fired, Ike Clanton ran up and grabbed my left arm." I told him to "go to fighting or get way" and pushed him off. I never fired at him "because I thought he was unarmed."
15. We believed Tom McLaury to be armed (even if it turns out that he wasn't). Holliday "fired and killed him" with a shotgun.

Ike Clanton:

1. After midnight on the 26th, Doc Holliday began cursing me in a saloon for no reason.
2. Morgan Earp arrived at the saloon and soon joined Holliday in cursing me and falsely accusing me of threatening the Earps.
3. Morgan Earp tells me "to be heeled" the next time that I see him.
4. While I'm playing poker at the Occidental Saloon later that night, Virgil Earp "buffaloes" me.
5. After I'm arrested by the Earps and taken to court on false charges of threatening a gunfight, Morgan and Virgil Earp make threats against me.
6. I saw the Earps and Hollidays coming down the street towards us as "we stood between the photograph gallery and the little house next to it." Behan met them and said, I think, "Hold on boys, don't go down there!" They "brushed right on by and did not stop."
7. As I and my brother and the McLaurys stood in the lot next to Fly's, the three Earp brothers and Holliday approached us and they "pulled their guns as they got there."
8. Virgil Earp said, "You sons-of-bitches, you have been looking for a fight, and you can have it!"
9. The Earps ordered us "to throw up our hands!"
10. "Billy Clanton threw up his hands," and I threw up mine, and "Tom McLaury threw open his coat and said, "I haven't got anything, boys, I am disarmed."
11. "Then the shooting commenced, right then, in an instant."
12. Doc Holliday fired the first shot at Tom McLaury.
13. Morgan Earp fired the second shot--so close to the first shot "that it was hard to distinguish them"--at my brother, Billy Clanton, from a distance of two or three feet as he is holding up his hands.
14. Tom "staggered backwards and Billy Clanton fell up against the corner of a window and laid himself down on the ground."
15. Virgil Earp fired the third shot, within a second or two of the first shot.
16. Wyatt Earp fired the fourth shot. He later shot at me, but I grabbed him and pushed him out of the way, and escaped into Fly's photo gallery and bullets whizzed by my head.
17. "There were about six or eight shots fired by the Earp party--they were fired in very quick succession."
18. "Billy Clanton drew his six-shooter" as "he lay on the ground and commenced shooting."
19. Frank McLaury was about "in the middle of Fremont Street when I first saw him with a six-shooter in his hand." Frank was "not exactly running" but "was getting pretty lively when he was shot that last time."

http://img461.imageshack.us/img461/1014/diagram19xd.jpg

Earp's hand drawn diagram:

http://www.paulfrasercollectibles.com/upload/public/docimages/Image/r/t/y/BattleAtOKCorral.jpg

Behan:

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/earp/johnnybehan.jpg

Wyatt:

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/earp/wyattearp.jpg

Holliday:

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/earp/docholliday.gif

Ike:

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/earp/ikeclanton.jpg

The Dead:

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/earp/coffins.jpg

[Gibson]

Addenda:

It was certainly a gritty day in Tombstone that cool late October afternoon.

To my mind, in the main, Wyatt's account is more believable.

Some random side facts. . .

Take Johnny Ringo. In 1987 there was a biography about Ringo and the title was something like "The Gunman That Never Was", or something along those lines. Now, I do not know what constitutes a gunman, by definition. But Ringo's actions in the Hoo Doo War were brutal. PERIOD. I have not read the book nor do I need to. I have perused many old newspapers, and Johnny Ringo had far more than a cool name. Recall that he confronted BOTH Wyatt Earp and Holliday simultaneously on the streets of Tombstone. He was grabbed from behind by a constable and both he and Holliday were fined for carrying weapons.

He once shot a man through the neck simply because he refused a shot of whiskey in a bar; the fellow wanted beer. While he most definitely was not Hardin or Allison, he was plenty tough, and pretty smart, too. Read this:

"Sometime around April 1881, John Ringo left Arizona and went to Texas. He was reported as being at Austin on May 2, 1881. After spending some time in a house in the "jungles" (***** house?) late into the morning hours he began to make his way to his hotel room. While doing this he discovered that he had misplaced his money. Thinking that three young men who were seated in the hallway may have his money he pulled out his gun and commanded them to hold their hands up. He then searched them. Not finding his money he smiled at the men and left to retire to his room. The three men ran to the marshal's office and told him what had happened. Marshal Ben Thompson, a notorious Texas gunman, personally went to Ringo's room. When he got there Ringo refused to open the door. Thompson kicked in the door and arrested Ringo for disturbing the peace and carrying a pistol. Ringo paid a $25 fine plus costs and was released. John Ringo left Texas and at some point traveled to Missouri. On July 12, 1881, the Tombstone Nugget indicated that Ringo was staying at the Grand Hotel and that he just returned from Liberty, Missouri."

Smart, eh? Ben Thompson was chain lightning with a sixgun. Fast and accurate.

http://www.chronicleoftheoldwest.com/pics/ben_thompson360.jpg

How about Earp's COMICAL claim to have arrested Ben Thompson in the summer of 1873 in Ellsworth, Kansas? Insane. Ben's brother Billy had killed the sheriff and Ben grabbed a Henry rifle and held the entire freakin' town at bay for an hour while Billy rode away. The mayor dismissed the whole police force! He and Deputy Sheriff Hogue negotiated an end with Thompson. He surrendered his arms, on his terms, and eventually it all came out in the wash.

Earp simply fabricated many of his stories. This one was comical because Thompson published FULLY his account in 1884 and wrote it in 1882. Earp never said a word. Then after almost half a century (44 years) we get his bs account.

Here is Thompson's account:

"While thus standing, life hanging on a thread, because no one could tell when the disarmed policeman would be reinforced. The mayor, Mr. Miller, appeared. He is a man of great decision of character, and brave, too. He had been given an exaggerated account of the circumstances, and was disposed to go right over me, but the Henry rifle soon brought him to his senses, and he stood along by the side of Hogue and others. I said to him: 'Mr. Mayor, I respect you, and I am inclined to surrender to you, but before doing so, must have your word of honor that no mob shall in any way interfere with me and besides Happy Jack and Hogue must be disarmed, or rather the first must be disarmed, and the other not permitted to resume his,' . . . If you will go and disarm Happy Jack, and declare to me that Hogue shall not again be armed, until the law has dealt with me, I will surrender.' He at once agreed to this proposition . . . the mayor and Mr. Larkin returned with Happy Jack unarmed. The mayor was an honorable man, at least I believed it. When he gave the assurances I required I willingly surrendered, knowing that the law could not and would not touch me, so far as the death of Sheriff Whitney was concerned." (pages 131-132)."

Ellsworth Reporter, August 21, 1873 edition:

"Mayor Miller was at his residence during the shooting; he was notified of the disturbance and he went immediately to Thompson and ordered him to give up his arms, but his advice was not heeded. During this long hour where were the police?

No arrest had been made, and the street was full of armed men ready to defend Thompson. The police were arming themselves, and as they claim, just ready to rally out and take, alive or dead, the violators of the law. They were loading their muskets just as the Mayor, impatient at the delay in making arrests, came along and discharged the whole force. It would have been better to have increased the force, and discharged or retained the old police after quiet was restored. The Mayor acted promptly and according to his judgment, but we certainly think it was a bad move. A poor police is better than none, and if, as they claim, they were just ready for work, they should have had a chance to redeem themselves and the honor of the city. Thus the city was left without a police, with no one but Deputy Sheriff Hogue to make arrests. He received the arms of Ben Thompson on the agreement of Happy Jack to give up his arms!"

Catch any mention of Wyatt Earp in either of those? Notice how they are remarkably similar? Thompson was not a man to be trifled with and I'm sure had no clue who Wyatt Earp even was, as no one else did in 1873.

[Gibson]

Another example of the horse**** that gets shoveled. . .

When Wes Hardin was captured, we get this glorious story of Ranger Armstrong taking down Wes and four of his gang. ********. Armstrong boarded a train with two local lawmen one of average size and the other evidently a neanderthal (a beast of a man), along with others. Hardin was on the train with three gambling friends, not a gang. They were in the smoking car relaxing. The two local lawman saw an opportunity to make a grab for Hardin as he threw both of his arms up and back to grab the back of his seat and apparently stretch out. The pair fell upon him from behind and seized his arms, the trio then went to the floor in a mass of cursing, yelling, and grappling. The brave Armstrong limped over, HAVING RECENTLY SHOT HIMSELF IN THE GROIN, and when he finally got an opening, cracked Wes over the head with a sixgun. Doesn't sound quite so heroic, eh? Hardin's gambling pals? Well, a 21 year old who was one of them, jumped up and thinking they had been set upon by hooligans or madmen cut loose with a couple of rounds and was quickly slain by Deputy Martin Sullivan. He was a 21 year old kid not wanted for anything.

Hardin was completely unconscious. He was secured and then searched. It was found that he had a sixshooter dangling from a suspender strap through the trigger guard. (I suspect it was to keep it secure but Hardin later wrote his wife that stored in that way it was useless.)

[tek4260]

Usually the way such things go down. Not quite as glamorous as the writers(revisionists) make it out to be.

Hell if I was a lawman back in those days and had someone notoriously viscous to bring in, I'd rather settle it with a well placed shot to the back with a rifle than to try to bring them in alive. I figure I'd have a longer career....

[Gibson]

Usually the way such things go down. Not quite as glamorous as the writers(revisionists) make it out to be.

Hell if I was a lawman back in those days and had someone notoriously viscous to bring in, I'd rather settle it with a well placed shot to the back with a rifle than to try to bring them in alive. I figure I'd have a longer career....

Been tryin' to call you. Called your work number, lol. Happy Thanksgiving my friend.

BTW, concerning John Wesley Hardin:

"Wes was not shot in the head. What appears to be a head wound in the death photo is where he struck his head on the bar when he fell. He was shot twice, in the upper left back. The coroner's jury report says "Had he been shot from in front we would call it excellent marksmanship. As he was shot from behind, we must call it excellent judgement." Less than a week later George Scarbrough killed John Selman, Sr. "

[Gibson]

Hm. I thought we'd drum up some commentary :)

[9.3X62AL]

I largely agree with your take on the Earps vs. Cowboys matter, and that neither party had a "lock" on righteous cause. My family was in the San Bernardino Valley since c. 1851, and both the Earps and the Clantons had lands in nearby San Timoteo Canyon, over which arguments occurred well into the late 19th Century. The arguments go deeper than just landed interests vs. small ranchers--The Earp faction was stridently Republican, the Clanton/McLaury side was Democratic; The Earps were Unionists, their adversaries had Secessionist sympathies. There was more than enough hatred to go around.

Virgil became a town marshal in nearby Colton, CA for a time. He also had a contract with the Southern Pacific Railroad to prevent the Union Pacific RR from placing a "frog" across their rail line in Colton to enable a right-angle intersection between the rights-of-way. Virgil got drunk one night, and the UPRR got the frog placed......and the crossing exists to this day, one of the few unseperated-grade crossings between 2 mainline railroad routes in this country.

[Gibson]

I do not believe the Earps who fought that day cared in the least about the politics or war sympathies of their antagonists. They were an obstacle. Not an ideal.

Holliday was born and reared a southerner from Georgia and set up his practice near Atlanta. The Earps were not real picky about Unionists versus Secessionists :) Holliday's father and extended family both fought on the side of the 'South'. Holliday was a southerner through and through and as such I HIGHLY doubt he was anything but stridently anti Republican. Sic semper tyrannis!

Remember when Wyatt refereed the Sharkey fight**? :) He even died still trying to sell to Hollywood.

In so many of these "wars" there were similar interests. The large land invested interests versus the small ranchers' interests. Strangely the dichotomy is the same, almost always, both sides were represented in the "war" by extremists. Hired killers versus rustlers, more or less (not necessarily here, unless viewed from a much broader frame of reference where one sees the Earps as acting in the land baron's interest, even if only by chance).

Also, what you point out is totally valid. As is the case even now. Political lines often break down along the propertied versus the less propertied. Extremely short sighted by the demos but a sad fact. But that is just a fact that accompanied being on one side or the other. It was almost a given. One of my old professors always said "ah, yes, but Jay, ultimately, all things are political", maybe he was on to something, God rest his soul. In most instantiations, these ranchers versus barons, had the political liners as merely givens that always existed. It took the interests qua ranchers and the opposing interests qua barons to bring about conflict.

If the germ of hatred was there it could be a contributing factor; I just never found Wyatt Earp to be that deep of a character. He was a tough man, but in my mind, a man with a myopic goal. Currency. However, you are clearly referencing the family history of the factions. With that, I am quite ignorant.

I have stories on the Hoo Doo War and Scott Cooley (definite prejudice and anti Unionists feelings contributed here, however again, the main player plaid because of REVENGE), Pleasant Valley War (already), Graham-Tewksbury Feud, Sutton-Taylor Feud, etc. (The feuds were dynamically different.)

I am so much obliged to you for contributing and your points are very valid and well taken. Thank you.

** "The Sharkey Fight": "On December 2, 1896 [Sailor Tom] Sharkey fought a controversial battle with future heavyweight champion Bob Fitzsimmons. In the eighth round Fitzsimmons dropped Sharkey, and appeared to have won the bout. The referee, famed lawman Wyatt Earp, inexplicably disqualified Fitzsimmons and awarded the bout to Sharkey on an alleged foul. The bout had been billed for the heavyweight championship of the world, as it was thought that the champion, James J. Corbett, aka Gentleman Jim, had relinquished the crown. Accordingly, Sharkey then claimed the title. The claim evaporated when Corbett resumed his fighting career, and continued to be recognized as champion until he was knocked out by Fitzsimmons in a title bout."

[Gibson]

THE LAST RIDE OF BUTCH AND SUNDANCE

http://images2.bridgemanart.com/cgi-bin/bridgemanImage.cgi/400wm.PNP.0309420.7055475/245851.jpg

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/2/26/Sundance_Kid_and_wife-clean.jpg

Etta (Ethel) Place was NOT there for the last ride, she had left. But she was one heck of a mysterious figure in the "Wild Bunch" saga.

"We arrived here about three weeks ago after a very pleasant journey and found just the place I have been looking for twenty years...This place isnt what we expected at all. There isnt any cattle here all the beef that is killed here comes from Mojo a distance of 80 leagues and are worth from 80 to 90Bs. But cattle do very well here and grass is good but water is scarce. There isnt any water in this town when there is a dry spell for a week. The people here in town have to buy water at 1.80 per barrel, but they can get good water at 40 feet but are to lazy to sink wells. Land is cheap here and everything grows good that is planted. But there is damd little planted, everything is very high. It costs us Bs100 per head to feed our mules, 250 each for ourselves. We rented a house, hired a good cook and are living like gentlemen. Land is worth 10cts. per hectare 10 leagues from here and there is some good Estancias for sale, one 12 leagues from here of 4 leagues with plenty of water and good grass and some sugar for 5000Bs and others just as cheap and if I dont fall down I will be livng here before long. It is pretty warm and some fever but the fever is caused by the food they eat. At least I am wiling to chance it.

They are doing some work now building a R.R. from Port Suares here and they claim it will be pushed right through so now is the time to get started for land will go up befor long. -We expect to be back in Concordia in about 1 month.

good luck to all you fellows."

- Robert LeRoy Parker AKA Butch Cassidy November 7, 1907, Santa Cruz, Bolivia.

On right, Sundance and Etta in Bolivia?

http://www.bolsonweb.com/historia/cassidy4.jpg

?

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__UdQW4-FSTs/TR_-SGziqlI/AAAAAAAAACY/SzJBjVVEn8M/s1600/image018.jpg

?

http://www.thelongridersguild.com/Sundance%20and%20Etta%20at%20the%20cabin.jpg

. . . Going to commence a sketch about Butch and Sundance and their last hooray. Can you believe they had Mausers, a Winchester Carbine, and Colt's revolvers. Sundance had 121! Winchester cartridges on him. . . :) Thieves but affable thieves ;)

[Gibson]

Robert LeRoy Parker and Harry Alonzo Longabaugh, hereinafter referred to as Butch Cassidy or Butch and Sundance Kid or Sundance, were, in my mind, a rare breed. While they were not the characters portrayed by Paul Newman and Robert Redford in the 1969 film. They were not as far removed as most would think. Butch and Sundance were not as happy-go-lucky as the character BUT they really did resemble that characterization. Sundance was not a slick gunfighter as Redford's character but I have no doubt that he could be handy with a sixshooter or a Winchester. (Later, we'll read a quote from him shortly before his death where, with no reason to lie, he tells a friend, "I never killed anyone except in self defense".) The "except in self defense" being the operative phrase. Both men were more serious than portrayed and both men were absolutely haunted by their never ceasing pursuers. The movie portrays this but it portrays them as sort of amused and bemused by the pursuit. In reality, they were haunted. Never resting. Never getting away from it. Truthfully almost all of the guys we discuss here had a mean streak. Butch and Sundance are exceptions. They truly did have amiable ways and a charm that was legendary. They did not shoot bank tellers because they weren't cooperative but they did blow up a train car or two :) However there was no malice toward the agents. I can prove their MO, it was simple. They would commit a robbery and then get as far away as was doable and then spend lavishly until broke, then repeat. These men were both of a different stripe than Harvey Logan (Kid Curry), of the the same group. He was a killer. They, quite frankly, were not. BUT they were both good with arms and both very likely were involved in fight that resulted in death, but never unless it was forced upon them.

"Butch and Sundance belonged to a loose-knit gang that included the likes of Elzy Lay, Matt Warner, Harvey 'Kid Curry' Logan, Ben 'Tall Texan' Kilpatrick and Will Carver. Dubbed the Train Robbers' Syndicate, the Hole-in-the-Wall Gang and the Wild Bunch, the band held up trains and banks and stole mine payrolls in the Rocky Mountain West, making off with a total of $200,000 (the equivalent of $2.5 million today) between 1889 and the early 1900s."

Butch, Sundance, and Etta (Ethel) Place had slipped below the southern border of the continental US in 1901. Actually, they STEAMED below the border on the Herminius. "After steaming into Buenos Aires on the British ship Herminius in March and taking the train to Patagonia in June, they settled in the Chubut Territory, a frontier zone in southern Argentina sparsely populated by immigrants, pioneers and Indians. Although most of the immigrants were Welsh or Chilean, several North Americans had journeyed to the same corner of the world, looking for open ranges. The bandits' nearest neighbor, for example, was John Commodore Perry, who had been the first sheriff of Crockett County, Texas. Butch and Sundance also traded and socialized with another Texan, Jarred Jones, who lived a two days' ride north, near Bariloche." They took the names James 'Santiago' Ryan and Mr. and Mrs. Harry 'Enrique' Place.

As always their peaceful existence was short lived. Pinkerton Detective Frank Dimiao was sent down in 1903 and traced there whereabouts to Argentina and then went to Buenos Ares where he found information pointing him toward Choila, Chubut Territory. He could not pursue it and instead had wanted posters translated and left them with the authorities.

The Choila Valley homestead was going well. In 1904 a Territorial Governor even stopped by Butch's ranch. Spent the night and was well treated by the Wild Bunch south. As I have stated Butch, Sundance, and Ethel were charming people. However, the pressure was shortly thereafter felt because by February 1905, Butch and Sundance appear to have robbed a bank:

". . .two English-speaking bandits held up the Banco de Tarapacá y Argentino in Río Gallegos, 700 miles south of Cholila, near the Strait of Magellan. Escaping with a sum that would be worth at least $100,000 today, the pair vanished north across the bleak Patagonian steppes. Although Butch and Sundance were never positively identified as the culprits (whose descriptions didn't fit them as well as the modus operandi did), they were the prime suspects.

Responding to a directive from the Buenos Aires police chief, Governor Lezana issued an order for Butch and Sundance's arrest. Before the order could be executed, however, Sheriff Edward Humphreys, a Welsh Argentine who was friendly with Butch and enamored of Ethel, tipped them off. In early May, the trio hustled north to Bariloche and took the steamer Cóndor across Lake Nahuel Huapi to Chile."

From Chile, "the outlaws returned to Argentina on business. On December 19, Butch, Sundance, Ethel and an unidentified confederate heisted 12,000 pesos (worth about $137,500 today) from the Banco de la Nación in Villa Mercedes, a livestock center 400 miles west of Buenos Aires. With several posses chasing them, they slogged west over rain-drenched pampas and the Andes to safety in Chile." Very shortly, Ethel would leave the permanently for San Francisco, never to return. It was just Butch and Sundance.

They eventually trudged their way to the Concordia Tin Mine high in the Bolivian Andes, Butch was employed first, followed by Sundance. Percy Seibert was their boss, and a grand old man, indeed. (Kept diaries and would many years later be a valued source of Butch and Sundance in SA information.) He knew who they were and nevertheless put them to work as payroll guards. They were dependable and good men. They were prized employees by Seibert's standards and always took Sunday dinner at his home. He grew very found of Butch as well as Sundance but did note Sundance could be a bit morose; taciturn.

Butch reflected during this two year spell, "Butch wrote to friends at Concordia, saying that he had found 'just the place [he had] been looking for 20 years.' Now 41, he was burdened with regret. 'Oh god,' he lamented, 'if I could call back 20 years…I would be happy.' He marveled at the affordability of good land with plenty of water and grazing, and made a prediction: 'If I don't fall down I will be living here before long.'" [See above for a more full quotation from his letter. First post.]

But in 1908 an inebriated Sundance made a brag about their past and they moved on. [Seibert would later write that they pulled off several robberies in Bolivia during this period. Speculation, but possible.]

On November 3, 1908 near Tupiza, Bolivia, Butch and Sundance were up and ready to rob the payroll being carried by "manager Carlos Peró, [who] would soon be taking an unguarded 80,000 peso payroll (worth half a million of today's dollars) to Quechisla. This payroll was under the care of the Aramayo, Francke, and Company. The Sundance Kid sat on his mule and watched through his binoculars as Carlos Pero and his son moved along the trail with the payroll. . .

Stay tuned. . .

"San Vicente, Bolivia, November 6, 1908: Inside the small hut at top are sprawled two bodies, Butch Cassidy and Sundance Kid, killed after a wild shootout with Bolivian police and federal troops. ":

http://www.annalsofcrime.com/images/376w/0000003734.jpg

Better days. . . The Hole-in-the-Wall:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/hinwall.jpg

The Fort Worth Five, seated left is Sundance and seated right is Butch:

http://youmayclap.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/wild-bunch.jpg

[Gibson]

Tupiza, the final holdup:

http://www.boliviaweb.com/photogallery/images/photos/tupiza.jpg

As they were riding in to San Vicente they saw this:

http://www.boliviaweb.com/photogallery/images/photos/portugal.jpg

The final fight, San Vicente:

http://www.boliviaweb.com/photogallery/images/photos/sanvicen.jpg

"At 9:30 a.m., Peró's party rounded a curve on the far side of the cactus-studded hill and found the trail blocked by Butch and Sundance, "The two Yankees", wielding brand-new small-caliber Mauser carbines with thick barrels. Dressed in dark-red corduroy suits, with bandannas masking their faces and their hat brims turned down so that only their eyes were visible, the bandits had Colt revolvers in their holsters and Browning pocket pistols tucked into their cartridge belts, which bulged with rifle ammunition."

Butch politely queried them about the payroll. Sundance sat silently and covered them. Butch told them that he did not want any personal property, only the massive sum of 80,000 pesos he had been lead to believe that they were carrying. They weren't. They told him that the schedule had been changed and that they only had 15,000 pesos this trip. It was the truth. (Still, ~100,000 USD in today's money) They took it and left, after Butch grabbed one of the company mules, a fine brown one.

By noon the alarm had been raised the pursuit began. They had soldiers, Aramayo guards, and even the miners whose payroll that they had grabbed were after them. The pair eluded them for three and a half days until they descend from the mountains to San Vicente, or, for them, HELL. At dusk on November 6th Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, on jaded mules ride into San Vicente and the wide open jaws of death. The two had no idea that one of the posses pursuing then, a group of four from Uyuni, is already there.

[Gibson]

Cerveza et Sardines

Heavily armed and excessively tired, Butch and Sundance ride up to the home of a man named Casasola. They are met by Cleto Bellot, the corregidor- a village official. They ask for an Inn. He tells that there is no inn in San Vicente but they can stay at the home of Casasola and he will sell them fodder for their mules. They gladly accept and dismount. Butch and Sundance unload and unsaddle. They tend their mules and then head in to their room, where Bellot awaits them.

The two weather beaten, cold, tired, and desperate men talk with Bellot asking him about travel difections, no doubt designed to do nothing more than confound later pursuers that they assume will question him. Finally, when the two are almost spent, they ask about food. Requesting sardines and beer. Casasola is called and sent for them. He returns with their "meal" and the two men eat and share a little more small talk with Bellot. He then leaves and makes a straight line for the home of one, Manuel Barran. The four man posse from Uyuni mentioned above is staying at this house. He has already been in formed to be on the lookout for two Americans with one riding an Aramayo "U" branded mule. He knew he had just spoken to them. Bellot wasted no time in telling the men present. The posse was made up of two soldiers, Captain Concha, and Inspector Rios from the Uyuni police department. Captain Concha was not there at the moment but the others sprang into action, they loaded up their rifles and belts with ammo and accompanied by Bellot, headed for the residence.

"Accompanied by Bellot, they went to Casasola's home and entered the patio. As they approached the bandits' room in the dark, Butch appeared in the doorway and fired his Colt, wounding the leading soldier, Victor Torres, in the neck. Torres responded with a rifle shot and retreated to a nearby house, where he died within moments. The other soldier and Rios also fired at Butch, then scurried out with Bellot.

After a quick trip to Barran's house for more ammunition, the soldier and Rios positioned themselves at the entrance to the patio and began firing at the bandits. Captain Concha then appeared and asked Bellot to round up some men to watch the roof and the back of the adobe house, so that the bandits couldn't make a hole and escape. As Bellot rushed to comply, he heard 'three screams of desperation' issue from the bandits' room. By the time the San Vicenteños were posted, the firing had ceased and all was quiet.

The guards remained at their stations throughout the bitterly cold, windy night. Finally, at dawn on November 7, Captain Concha ordered Bonifacio Casasola to enter the room. When he reported that both Yankees were dead, the captain and the surviving soldier went inside. They found Butch stretched out on the floor, one bullet wound in his temple and another in his arm, and Sundance sitting on a bench behind the door, hugging a large ceramic jar, shot once in the forehead and several times in the arm. According to one report, the bullet removed from Sundance's forehead had come from Butch's Colt. From the positions of the bodies and the locations of the fatal wounds, the witnesses apparently concluded that Butch had put his partner out of his misery, then turned the gun on himself."

Thus ended the the gunfight at San Vicente and the lives of two very large figures in the outlaw lore of the American Old West.

**Basically every quote in this sketch is from various articles by Dan Buck and Ann Meadows. They have studied this topic for decades and in my opinion are the preeminent scholars of Butch and Sundance in South America.

http://www.history.com/news/news/wp-content/uploads/2012/06/butch-cassidy-sundance-kid.jpg

[Gibson]

Addenda:

. . . But check this quote from Matt Warner scrawled in a note to Charles Kelly in 1937:

"Forget all the reports on Butch Cassidy, they are fake. There is no such man living as Butch Cassidy. His real name is Robert Parker, born and raised in Circlvalley, Utah and killed in South America, he and a man by the name of Longwow [Longabaugh, Sundance] we[re] killed in a soldier post their [there] in a gunfight. This is straight."

Who was Matt Warner? A noted outlaw of the era and a friend to Butch Cassidy. He served time and later reformed, even becoming a law officer. His real name was Willard Erastus Christianson.

Who was Charles Kelly? A noted historian who wrote the first real history of the band of robbers known as "The Wild Bunch" among other things.

Funny though. . . look at the verb tense from Matt's note. :)

[Gibson]

Next up? Hm. Well let me see. . . one has certain standards and all to uphold :)

I'm thinking this hombre:

http://farm5.staticflickr.com/4057/4280619048_2622a00fbd_z.jpg

CHACON

Another desperate man run to earth by a famous Arizona Ranger.

Augustine Chacon: killer; thief

[Gibson]

http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/5382/chacon.jpg


From findagrave:

"Augustine Chacon was born during the Civil War (1860/1865) in Sonora, Mexico. In his early life, he was a peace officer in the little town of Tigre, Sonora. He was a vaquero and was proficient in stealing cattle and horses. He first came to Morenci, Arizona in 1888 or '89. He was a powerfully built man and was darker than most people of his race. His powerful chest was covered with a matted mass of black hair which led to his nickname of "Peludo", meaning hairy. He had a fierce black mustache. Peludo was soon the leader of a clique or gang of Morenci Mexicans. They would steal and butcher beef on Bonito and Eagle Creek. They were not beyond armed robbery of establishments in Clifton and Morenci. Chacon did work though, as he hauled wood to fire the narrow gauge train, Little Emma. He worked for George B. Gamble, the engineer of the train that hauled ore from the mine at Metcalf to Clifton. Mr. Gamble said that he was a good and willing worker and seemed to have a mild manner. (Mr. Gamble was my grandfather). Chacon and his gang attempted to rob the McCormick store in Morenci Canyon. It was a botched attempt, with Chacon and his gang having to make a run for it up the hill. In the fray, Chacon was wounded, but managed to get up the hill and behind some rocks. Pablo Salcido, a prominent Morenci merchant, had joined the fight and attempted to go it alone to capture the outlaws, shooting as he went. Chacon shot Salcido dead and it was here that Chacon cut Salcido's heart out and laid it on his chest. (This part of the story was told to my husband, Clyde, by Pablo's brother, Jose Salcido, when they worked at Morenci). A number of townsmen participated in the blazing battle in which about three hundred shots were fired. Chacon's partners in the crime, Luna and Morales were killed and Chacon was wounded, and captured. He was charged with the murder of his former friend, Pablo Salcido and sentenced to be hanged. Chacon made his escape from the Solomonville jail with help from the outside. He cut through planking with which the jail was lined and then dug through heavy adobe walls into the sheriff's office, and out through the window to freedom. He was finally captured near Naco on the Mexican border.
Sheriff Jim Parks brought him back to Solomonville, where he was executed by hanging. Chacon made a thirty minute speech before the final call, smoked two cigarettes and drank a cup of coffee and then said, "It's time to hang". The body was cut down and delivered into the hands of Sisto Molino and Jesus Bustos. They hurriedly put him into a wagon and streaked to Molino's house where a stiff drink was poured down Chacon's throat and efforts were made to revive him. Sheriff Parks got word what they were doing and went to the house and ordered them to dig a hole and bury him--now! It was known he was buried in the yard of the Molino home. Years later, my father, mother and my two children and I went to the the old Molino home, where descendants were still living. My dad asked about the grave, but they insisted that Chacon was buried in the San Jose Cemetery. They may have moved the body at some time or he could still be there in the corner of the yard, with an empty spot and headstone in the San Jose Cemetery which reads, Augustine Chacon 1861/ 1902. "He lived life without fear. He faced death without fear". Muy Bravo Hombre. "

[Gibson]

"Chacon's body was handed over to two individuals, Sixto Mill and Jesus Bustos, who tried to revive him through some special brews that were poured down the throat of Chacon. The sheriff was quickly informed of what the two practioners of "voodoo" were up to. He immediately rushed over and ordered them to bury the body post haste."

Raising the dead, indeed. . .

http://www.jcs-group.com/oldwest/ahpeople/chacon.jpg


Burton Mossman was in a bare minimum of five gunfights in his life. He was not a man to be trifled with. Augustine Chacon was a killer, plain and simple. I do not doubt his brag about killing 15 Americans and 37 Mexicans. Maybe slightly hyperbolic, maybe not. . . These men would run against each other in 1902 and in Decenber of that same year it would be the business end of a noose for Chacon.

Augustino Chacon was arrested for the murder of Deputy Pablo Salicido and sentenced to hang on June 18, 1897, after some legal wrangling. He would escape on June 8th. . .

In jail, Chacon smuggled a hacksaw into his cell by hiding it in the binding of a Bible. Other prisoners played music to disguise the sound of the filing of the bars. A lady friend seduced the guard, allowing Chacon to escape. Chacon continued to be an outlaw until 1902.

Arizona Rangers, started by Burton Mossman and others:

http://www.vvrangers.org/images/AZhistory.jpg

[Gibson]

Augustine Chacon had long been back at his old game of raiding Arizona ranches of stock and then fleeing back across the border to relative safety.

It was April 1902 when Arizona Ranger pioneer and Captain Burt Mossman decided that it would be a huge feather in the cap of the fledgling Rangers to capture Chacon. Indeed, it would be! Mossman had been making the area rustlers lives very difficult. He practically had the rustling problem- it was a terrible issue for as long while- cleaned up. The Arizona Rangers were off on a good foot, cleaning out band after band of badmen.

Mossman recruited two ex-lawmen who had now gone into the outlaw business, Billy Stiles and Burton Alvord. Good men turned bad men. . . Alvord had actually acted as deputy under the legendary Sheriff, John "Shotgun" Slaughter when they tried to capture Augustine Chacon. Mossman, connected with the two semi-desperadoes and made a deal with them. They would set up a meeting with Chacon and Mossman, posing as a thief and jail escapee would grab Chacon at the safest opportunity. In return Mossman would testify on behalf of both men as to their good character and request leniency from the authorities, as both men had a big desire to come back home and settle accounts and then proceed with a normal life. So they both said. The deal was done. It's on. . .


Billy Stiles posing with revolver:

http://bloximages.chicago2.vip.townnews.com/azstarnet.com/content/tncms/assets/v3/editorial/e/de/ede3704a-e414-5ed0-955c-4d728ac6809e/4d97ad7d5e073.image.jpg

Burton Alvor:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/f/f4/Alvord_burt.jpg

Mossman specified that the meeting take place inside the US border. He even had a ruse in mind of stealing fine horseflesh from Colonel Green who resided just inside thew US border and having Chacon to sell the horses in Mexico. Burton Mossman did NOT want to be inside Mexico when the capture occurred. He had no authority and could easily be jailed by Mexican officials, or worse.

It took four long months before Stiles rode back to Mossman with a letter written by Alvord. It was the last day of August, 1902. Stiles met Mossman in a border town called Naco. The note said that the meeting was set "twenty-five miles within the Mexican line at the Socorro Mountain spring. . ." Against his better judgement, Mossman rode south. He knew it was dangerous but he was a lawman and it seemed the only way to get a clean path to his prey. In three days they were in camp with Alvord and Chacon. Chacon was well aware of the plan to rob and sell fines horses and was all for it but he was cautious. He had the instincts of the hunted man. His eyes never left Mossman the entire first night.

With the early morning light, came early morning rain. Alvord had his yellow rain slicker on and leaned over the slowly dampening campfire to grap a twig. It would be his first smoke of the day. Rolled tight, he took a hard drag drag and clutched his sixgun tightly under the slicker. Chacon was still wary and it was clear. Even through the rain, Mossman later reported, that sweat ran down his face. He was nervous as Alvord made up an excuse to ride off for a bit. He would never return.

It was now or never. In a solitary move the Ranger Captain, dropped his twig, flipped up his slicker, and pointed a cocked and primed sixgun at Chacon. Just like that, in the blink of an eye the old Captain had his man. He now was a portrait of grace under pressure. He immediately ordered Stiles to disarm him and cuff him. He did.

The three men were mounted and riding riding and in a helluva fix. Completely illegal arrest and twenty-five miles to cover to get into favorable conditions. Augustine's hand were cuffed behind him and Mossman led his horse, while Stiles rode behind with the opposite end of a noose that was secured around Chacon's neck. (Some accounts have Mossman in the rear and Stiles in the front.) It has been related that Chacon delayed the attempt to safely get across the US border by throwing himself off his horse. Perhaps the rope went onto his neck only AFTER a few such delays.

It was a hard ride and Mossman was as diligent in his watch as any man ever was. He surveyed everything within his purview. They made it.

They grabbed a train immediately and headed for Solomonville, Arizona. On board was a newspaper reporter who noted the haggard look of a hunted man. Chacon had a scraggly gray tinged beard and a piercing stare. He told the reporter that he was likely headed to be hanged and he hoped they'd go through with it this time as opposed to a prison stretch.

Despite protrestations from a do-gooder citizens group asking for a life sentence, he got his wish on November 21, 1902. Adios, Chacon!

A fine Arizona peace officer:

http://www.vvrangers.org/images/AZbadge.gif

http://www.vvrangers.org/images/Mossman_BurtonC.jpg

[Gibson]

http://sphotos-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-snc6/c147.0.403.403/p403x403/262098_10151307433825590_436926776_n.jpg

[jmort]

Never a fan of Butch and Sundance movie. The reality is that they had an addiction to crime and "easy" money and there is no such thing in the end. The world was becoming a much smaller place in the early 20th century and they had no where to hide. Not a glorious Hollywood ending for any of these guys including Peluda.

[Gibson]

You see the fellow at the top right of the Fort Worth Five image? That is one of the toughest, meanest, no-nonsense mankillers ever in the old west. Harvey "Kid Curry" Logan. I started writing a book on him many years ago. Never finished it.

Killed more lawmen than anyone ever has. Truly a DESPERATE man.

Will post on him

[Gibson]

Tonight it will be the story of "The Going Snake Massacre"

http://www.accessgenealogy.com/native/proctor/images/oldzeek.jpg

Eleven people were killed! It was a true shootout.

Zeke Procter was a Civil War veteran who had- it was adjudicated later-accidentally shot and killed "Aunt" Polly Beck. The fight began with Beck supporters and Procter supporters armed to the teeth and at the trial.

This trial had been moved to the "Whitmire school", seemingly in anticipation of trouble.

A real lead laden bloodbath here, folks.

[Gibson]

Ezekiel Procter was a full blood Cherokee, an ex-Union soldier, and a pretty good with a long gun or a Colt's revolver. Arrow straight, tree tall, and battle hardened he was not one to be trifled with.

This incident has as its genesis, a gunfight involving Jim Kesterson and Zeke at the old mill home of Kesterson (Hildebrand-Beck Mill) on February 13, 1872. The hatred that sparked the gunfight has multiple stories as to its origin. Kesterson was married to a woman known as Aunt Polly she was originally a Beck. Polly had married a man named Kesterson who been been killed in the Civil War. She came from a proud Cherokee family like Procter.

One account says that the Procter and Beck families hated each other over Civil War allegiances. The Becks being strongly southern in their allegiance and the Procters were unionists. Another has Zeke with very strong and proud Indian "nationalist" ties and vehemently disapproving of Polly's marriage to Kesterson, a white man. Another has it that their cattle (stock) issues between Kesterson and Procter. What follows is likely accurate, one should realize that "Mary" and "Aunt Polly" are the same person.

"One day Zeke dropped by to visit his sister Elizabeth. He was surprised to find her and her children alone and hungry with not much of anything in the house to eat. He learned that her husband, James Kesterson, had deserted her and their children. He took Elizabeth and her children to live with other family members. There is no record of why James left his family and moved out. Ezekiel Proctor was very angry with James for leaving his sister in this condition. After leaving Elizabeth, James had found a job with Mary Hildebrand and later married her.

Story has it that on Tuesday, 13 February 1872, Zeke with his wife and children while possibly visiting other family or friends in the area, may have thought it to be a good time to have a talk with Mr. Kesterson and decided to visit the mill. He dropped by the local watering hole and had a few drinks to help fortify him before he reached the mill. Also some people say Zeke had received complaints that Mary and James had been letting their cattle run loose and they were destroying crops of nearby farmers.

When Zeke arrived at the mill it didn't take long before he and James were in a heated argument. James reached for his gun but Zeke, being faster, beat him to the draw. Mary, who was trying to stop the men from fighting jumped in front of her husband, James, placing herself between the two men just as Zeke's finger pulled the trigger and discharged the 45. Mary caught the bullet in the chest and fell between the two mortally wounded leaving James a widower. Zeke fired off two more shots at James putting two holes in his coat as he fled to the second floor of the mill not knowing if Mary was dead or alive. He was also wounded by one of those two bullets.

Zeke knowing he had committed a crime went to the neighbor's house and confessed to his family what he had done. He then went to the home of Jack Wright the current Sheriff of the Goingsnake District to turn himself in. Being there were no jails Zeke was sent home with guards until his trial. "

This mill is the Hildebrand-Beck Mill replacement. It was built around 1900 as the original had been washed away in floods. It stood many years, obviously in disrepair.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Hildebrands_Mill_OK.jpg

The Massacre. . .

[Gibson]

The Beck family, although Cherokee knew well that Procter was a big man in the community and that Cherokee courts often decided in favor of the defendant. The Beck patriarch, Aaron Beck, among other family members, convinced Kesterson to go to Fort Smith, Arkansas to seek a writ of arrest for Procter for assault with intent to kill. It was granted on April 11, 1872. Strangely Kesterson just disappears? So, two Deputy United States Marshals leave Fort Smith with instructions that IF AND ONLY IF Zeke is acquitted are they to serve the warrant. These deputies are accompanied by Beck family members, a "posse" if you will. Several of the Becks had accompanied Kesterson but evidently only the Becks rode to the trial site with the deputies. This group of Becks and supporters get referred to as a posse. And in later recitations even as US Marshals. I suspect that the figure of two deputies may actually be wrong. In fact I think three of four may be the proper number of LEGITIMATE deputies?

They go immediately to to the little schoolhouse where the trial is taking place. Less windows and better escape doors. The Cherokees knew this thing would not end well. Procter's supporters are inside the courtroom, well heeled. Beck's are outside in the schoolyard armed to the teeth.

Into this ride the deputies with the "posse".

It appears that the deputies both acted correctly and courageously in trying to follow their orders. But the Beck "posse" took control. Guards who were already in place were ignored, the deputies were ignored. Uh-huh. The Becks and their supporters in the "posse" burst threw the doors and hell grabbed them.

The Beck leader who erupted into the courtroom was Surry Beck. He was rolled in with a double barreled shotgun. Always a solid choice in these situations! He drew a bead on Zeke but before he could drop the hammer Zeke's brother, Johnson Procter, grabbed the barrel, for his trouble he received a one way ticket to oblivion courtesy of a lesad bath. He took a full bore to the chest. So, long. . . The second barrel left a hole in Zeke's leg. Surry was not big on game play it appears he meant business. A general melee ensued. Zeke grabbed a guard's gun and VERY likely killed at least one of the "posse". Surry was severely wounded but managed to escape. The firing went on for fifteen minutes and left a trail of dead. Gruesome!

The judge, Sixkiller, was shot, Zeke's defense attorney was killed, and Andrew Palone court clerk was also a victim.

This story gets shaded in some places, making it an attack by 10 deputies sent by the Feds to storm the courthouse and take Procter. You can decide for yourself.

Shotgunner Surry Beck:

http://www.accessgenealogy.com/native/proctor/images/whitesut.jpg

A newspaper account from someone who walked upon the scene just as it ended, fascinating.

"From time to time we have chronicled the postponement of the case of Ezekiel Proctor charged with the murder of (Mary) Polly Hildebrand, the last trial being set to come off last Monday, the 15th instant. We had business there, and arrived about half past 1 o'clock. And what a sight met our gaze when we rode up to the small school-house where the court had been called. Three men were lying just before the door-step in those negligent and still postures so terrifying to the living. Dark pools of blood issuing from each told the horrible story of the manner of their death. In the house, lying side by side, with their hats over their faces, lay three more bodies----one, all that was left of an old and valued friend (This may have been Mose Alberty the defending attorney). A few steps off, to the right of the door, lay the body of a man with light hair and blue eyes, which betokened his white extraction (probably George Selvidge). Next to the chimney, behind the house, was another, and near by, partly supported against the wall, was a man groaning in the anguish of a desperat wound probably William Beck). In the bushes, a little further off, was yet another corpse of a youth who had staggered there to die. Looking at the living we saw the presiding judge, B. H. Sixkiller, with his wrist bandaged, where he had been seriously wounded by two bullets. The prisoner was limping about with a bullet in the bone of his leg below the knee. Others were wounded more or less. At the nearest residence was lying, desperately wounded, Deputy Marshal Owens, a man generally respected on both sides of the "line". Some of the badly wounded we did not see, they having fled or been taken care of by their friends. The spectacle which harrowed our sight was the most awful, without any comparison, that we have ever witnessed."

In my opinion this is accurate accounting, roughly. It is from accessgeneology.com:

"Some members of the Beck family convinced James Kesterson to go to Fort Smith Arkansas and seek a writ for the arrest of Proctor for assault with the intent to kill. He did this on April 11th. After James filed the writ he disappeared and no one knows what happened to him. The court sent two deputy marshals with the writ for arrest to the trial. They were only to arrest Zeke if he was found not guilty.

Several Beck family members had accompanied Kesterson to Ft. Smith and they returned with the Deputy Marshals to Indian Territory and thus to the Whitmire School and arrived just after the trial had began.

The Judge sat at a small table at the rear of the one room schoolhouse facing the door to the west. Joe Starr, the court clerk, sat to the Judge's left and Mose Albberty, Proctor's attorney, sat to the right of the Judge. Proctor was sitting next to his attorney and one of his guards stood near him. The jury sat to one side of the room.

The one room schoolhouse was packed with spectators and many that could not get in were milling around the building on the outside.

Just as the trial began the Deputy Marshals and the Beck posse arrived. There were 4 guards outside of the building to keep out unwanted intruders. Deputy Owens told the posse not to try and enter the courtroom and remain peaceably outside until the court's decision was made. Surry Eaton Beck seemed to take command of the posse as they neared the building. There were other family members and friends who were waiting and the two groups merged as they went to the door of the school.

Surry or "White Sut" Beck had a double-barreled shotgun and he forced his way inside and others followed and the guards were over powered. They burst into the courtroom, guns in hand. "Sut" aimed his shotgun at Zeke. Johnson Proctor, Zeke's older brother, grabbed the gun barrel and one of the barrels went off and he received the full charge in the chest and immediately died. The other barrel then went off wounding Zeke in the lower leg below the knee. Zeke grabbed a guard's gun and began to fire it.

Surry Eaton “White Sut” Beck who led the assault was severely wounded but managed to escaped on horse back. Deputy Marshall Donnelly stated that Deputy Marshall J. G. Peavy helped Beck escape to Cincinnati, Arkansas. He had a close encounter there with Proctor’s friends, who were looking for him, but he narrowly escaped them.

Surry Eaton Beck - White Sut Beck

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos250/photos/2011/165/5506217_130816101473.jpg

Then pandemonium broke out as the Beck and Proctor factions fired wildly. The fight lasted about 15 minutes and the wounded, dead, and near dead lay everywhere inside and outside of the school. Most of the Beck faction fled and so did just about everyone who could get on a horse and ride.

Nine were killed outright and two died the next day. An unknown number had minor wounds. William Beck and Deputy Owens were mortally wounded and were carried across the street to a private home where they died a short time later. Owens stated before he died that he tried to stop the battle but could not. The lady who owned the house across the street got her sons to hitch up the mules to the wagon and with the help of others loaded the wagon with the dead. They laid them out on their front porch till family members could come and claim the bodies.

The wounded were taken inside and treated, the best she could by Mrs. Whitmire who was a widow.

"The dead were:

1. Johnson Proctor (Died immediately, older brother of Ezekiel)

2. Samuel Beck

3. Jesse "Black Sut" Beck (my [quoted writer] great grandmother's first husband. She was left with a son about a year old. Her mother had died in February at the mill and now her husband was gone too.)

4. Defense Attorney, Mose Alberty

5. Andy Palone

6. William Hicks

7. Jim Ward

8. George Selvidge (married to Sabra Beck)

9. Riley Woods

10. Deputy Marshall Owens (severely wounded and died the next day)"

This story gets shaded depending on the agenda of the teller. Truly many make it about the Federal government trying to impose on Cherokee Courts. There is truth there. There is also truth that Deputy Owens died after trying to stop the marauders from entering the "courtroom". Nothing can take away from the fifteen minutes of absolute death that occurred. Facts. I guess because no one walked off 20 paces and slapped leather that this is dismissed by the old west debunkers too, but it happened. Indeed, at least eleven died in a maelstrom of lead.

The very next day the court reconvened and acquitted Zeke Procter. He later went on to serve as a Deputy US Marshal for Isaac Parker, "The Hanging Judge".

Zeke:

http://www.visitroswellga.com/images-new/AboutRoswell/Zeke-Proctor.jpg

[Gibson]

There were some really bad hombres in the old I.T. But there some pretty tough lawman there who slowly winnowed out the badmen. The price paid by those lawmen was enormous. God only knows how many were killed chasing the outlaws of that area. The number boggles the mind, seriously.

See Nix's "Oklahombres", Harman's "Hell on the Border", Shirley's "The Law West of Fort Smith", etc.

For the lawmen sketches, I think Commodore Perry Owens standing alone in street facing multiple bad guys barricaded in a house, has to rank up with my favorites, for the lawmen. Harry Tracy epitomizes desperation. The Newton General Massacre is just unreal.

LEAD LAW :)

Adios, Amigo

New sketch tomorrow or Tuesday, stay tuned and see if you and catch a dim smell of black powder smoke :)

[jmort]

"New sketch tomorrow or Tuesday..."

The sooner the better. Really good reading. History is a beautiful thing. Far safer than the real thing. God Bless and Thanks again for your effort

[gunseller]

Gibson Thanks for the writtings. They are a joy to read. As many times it has been said the main differance between the good and the bad is a badge.
Steve

[Gibson]

reckon it'll be these fellas and this incident today. 8 dead in 11 minutes qualifies. . .

http://www.histdocs.com/home/productimages/542_hr.gif

http://digital.library.okstate.edu/encyclopedia/entries/D/images/DA006A.jpg

Stay tuned as I'm a bit lazy today; it might be a while.

http://img.kansasmemory.org/00138773.jpg

[Gibson]

jmortimer: Thanks, buddy!

gunseller: Even today those words certainly too often hold true. In days of yore, the men like Jeff Milton were exceedingly rare on the "frontier".

Sure glad you guys enjoy my drivel. I'll continue :)

[Gibson]

The Dalton brothers gang much like the James-Younger was nebulous. The core member were indeed core members but others were either in or out for a given job. These guys had a brief but lucrative career. They hit mostly trains; however their first robbery was that of a New Mexico gambling house, in late 1890. Their career extended for two years from late 1890 to late 1892.

The leader of the brothers and the gang was Bob Dalton, although significantly younger than Gratton he was the de facto leader.

It was the evening of October 4, 1892 and the riders decided to stop at Onion Creek to make camp before trying a feat no one had tried before. To pull off two daylight robberies, simultaneously. The would-be victims were the First National Bank and the C.M. Condon Co. Bank. Bob had decided that the gang needed a signature haul. Something no one had done and no one would forget. It was also decided by all members that things were just getting too hot. They were being chased now by one of the greatest lawmen who ever lived. Period. Deputy Marshal Heck Thomas. It was at this Onion Creek camp that the plans were gone over again and the disguises donned. Heavy mustaches and side whiskers possibly wigs, also, for a couple of the robbers. The men then rolled their Winchesters up with their slickers, mounted and began their ride to 8th Street and thence to the "Death Alley".

So, our band consisted of Bob, Emmett, and Grat Dalton, Dick Broadwell, and Bill Power also likely present was Bill Doolin. Into the breech AKA "Death Alley" these men rode. . . they pulled up and tied their horses to a fence- "The hitching post where they intended to tie their horses had been torn down due to road repairs. This forced the gang to hitch their horses in a near-by alley - a fateful decision."

http://www.cr.nps.gov/nr/twhp/wwwlps/lessons/99condon/99images/99IMG3Bh.jpg

These men were armed to the teeth there is long standing story that Bob Dalton outfitted the five robbers (Doolin may have been left in charge of the horses if present) with 10 new pearl handled and engraved Colt's .45 SAs, brand-new horses, fancy Mexican saddles, new clothes, and new Winchesters. Museum displays notwithstanding, I find this quote from a 1998 article compelling from its prior evidence "We can put eight of the 10 engraved pearl-gripped Colts in the hands of Grat, Bob and Emmett Dalton and Dick Broadwell on the day of the Coffeyville bank robberies. The death certificate of the fifth robber, Bill Power, didn't list any guns in his personal possessions, so his Colts were probably looted immediately after the shootout." These Daltons were indeed armed to the teeth and ready to rock. But the townsfolk were also!

It was 9:30 am, On October 5, as the men dismounted. The men gathered themselves. They pulled out their shiny new Winchester rifles from the slickers and checked their Colt's .45s, one in the shoulder holster and one worn sidearm; they then strode out into the street moving briskly and accelerating as they neared their destinations. Alex McKenna noted the five men and thought there were something very odd about the whole scene, especially the seemingly fake beards. The five men split up, "the three in the front file [Grat Dalton, Bill Power, and Dick Broadwell}went into C.M. Condon & Co.'s bank at the southwest door, while the two in the rear ran directly across the street to the First National Bank and entered the front door of that institution." McKenna peered through the window of the C.M. Condon Bank he was shocked to see a Winchester aimed at the bank teller! Before he realized what he was even doing, he gave voice to the alarm, screaming loudly, "The bank's being robbed, the bank's being robbed." This message was passed like wildfire fire among the folks on the Plaza.

"At the same time several gentlemen saw the two men enter the First National Bank, suspecting their motive, followed close at their heels and witnessed them 'holding up' the men in this institution. They gave the alarm on the east side of the Plaza. A 'call to arms' came simultaneously with the alarm and in less time than it takes to relate the fact a dozen men with Winchesters and revolvers in their hands were ready to resist the escape of the unwelcome visitors."

Back at the Condon Bank, at the point of his Winchester, Grat demanded that the employees "open the vault and do it quick!". A fast thinking cashier C.M. Ball stalled Grat, Power and Broadwell with the fiction that the time lock on the vault had not released, and would not until 9:45. This stall gave the townsmen time to fully organize themselves. Grat was in no mood to mess around and matter-of-factly told him, "Open it or I'll kill you" Out of fear the cashier quickly forked over 4K in silver coin hoping it would stall Grat, but he made it clear that he did not want the silver but wanted the 40K in the vault. It was now 9:42 am, seven minutes had passed since the teller had told Grat that the vault would open at 9:45 am. Grat decided to wait the three minutes. The townsfolk did not wait. They opened up with what they had and they had plenty. Rifles, revolvers, and shotguns.

Across the way Bob and Emmett had taken control in The First National Bank. Everything went off as planned. Bob Dalton tossed over a bag and demanded cashier Ayres fill it. He put 21K into the bag and was told no silver, after he had began to try and put it in also. The vault cleaned out and the firing started, "Bob Dalton then ordered the three bankers to walk out from behind the counter in front of him, and they put the whole party out at the front door. Before they reached the door, Emmett called to Bob to 'Look out there at the left.' Just as the bankers and their customers had reached the pavement, and as Bob and Emmett appeared at the door, two shots were fired at them from the doorway of the drug store… Neither one of them was hit. They were driven back into the bank… Bob stepped to the door a second time, and raising his Winchester to his shoulder, took deliberate aim and fired in a southerly direction. Emmett held his Winchester under his arm while he tied a string around the mouth of the sack containing the money. They then ordered the young men to open the back door and let them out. Mr. Shepard complied and went with them to the rear of the building, when they passed out into the alley. It was then that the bloody work of the dread desperadoes began."

As they left they encountered Lucius Baldwin coming at them with a revolver. Bob sent Emmett off with the take and raised his Winchester and dropped Baldwin where he stood. The single round taking effect in the left side of the man's chest.

Back to Grat's group. . . "The moment that Grat Dalton and his companions, Dick Broadwell and Bill Power, left the bank [the C.M. Condon Bank] that they had just looted, they came under the guns of the men in Isham's store. Grat Dalton and Bill Powers each received mortal wounds before they had retreated twenty steps. The dust was seen to fly from their clothes, and Powers in his desperation attempted to take refuge in the rear doorway of an adjoining store, but the door was locked and no one answered his request to be let in. He kept his feet and clung to his Winchester until he reached his horse, when another ball struck him in the back and he fell dead at the feet of the animal that had carried him on his errand of robbery. "

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/CoffeevilleBank-500.jpg

Now, Bob and Emmett have headed down Union street and there see two men, boot makers, George Cubine and Charlie T. Brown. George has a Winchester but is not looking toward the Daltons, Bob raises his own rifle and shoots Cubine in the center of the back, the bullet passing through his heart. As he falls, his friend grabs his rifle but is also shoot dead by Bob with his trusty Winchester, with a single round. As the men raced around the next corner, they came face to face with the earlier mentioned cashier Ayres. Ayres having armed himself from Isham's Hardware store stood in the doorway of said hardware store. Bob raised his Winchester and shot him in the face, just below his left eye, SEVERELY wounding him.

No one better than David Stewart Elliot of The Coffeyville Journal as quoted from the web article, "The Dalton Gang's Last Raid, 1892" EyeWitness to History, www.eyewitnesstohistory.com (2001) to finish this story: "Grat Dalton, getting under cover of the oil tank, managed to reach the side of a barn that stands on the south side of the alley... [At this point, Marshal Connelly ran across a vacant lot into "Death Alley" from the south to the spot where the bandits had tied their horses.] The marshal sprang into the alley with his face towards the point where the horses were hitched. This movement brought him with his back to the murderous Dalton, who was seen to raise his Winchester to his side and without taking aim fire a shot into the back of the brave officer. Marshal Connelly fell forward on his face within twenty feet of where his murderer stood.

Dick Broadwell in the meantime had reached cover in the Long-Bell Lumber Company's yards, where he laid down for a few moments. He was wounded in the back. A lull occurred in the firing after Grat Dalton and Bill Power had fallen. Broadwell took advantage of this and crawled out of his hiding-place and mounted his horse and rode away. A ball from Kloehr's [John Kloehr, a townsman] rifle and a load of shot from a gun in the hands of Carey Seaman overtook him before he had ridden twenty feet. Bleeding and dying he clung to his horse and passed out of the city… His dead body was subsequently found alongside of the road a half-mile west of the city.

[As Marshal Connelly fell, Bob and Emmett Dalton - successfully escaping the First National Bank - ran down a side alley and into 'Death Alley' from the north.] When the two Daltons reached the junction of the alleys they discovered F.D. Benson in the act of climbing through a rear window with a gun in his hand. Divining his object, Bob fired at him point blank at a distance of not over thirty feet. The shot missed Mr. Benson, but struck a window and demolished the glass. Bob then stepped into the alley and glanced up towards the tops of the buildings as if he suspected that the shots that were being fired at the time were coming from that direction. As he did so, the men at Isham's took deliberate aim at him from their position in the store and fired. The notorious leader of the Dalton gang evidently received a severe if not fatal wound at this moment. He staggered across the alley and sat down on a pile of dressed curbstones near the city jail. True to his desperate nature he kept his rifle in action and fired several shots from where he was seated. His aim was unsteady and the bullets went wild… He arose to his feet and sought refuge alongside of an old barn west of the city jail, and leaning against the southwest corner, brought his rifle into action again and fired two shots in the direction of his pursuers. A ball from Mr. Kloehr's rifle struck the bandit full in the breast and he fell upon his back among the stones that covered the ground where he was standing.

After shooting Marshal Connelly, Grat Dalton made another attempt to reach his horse. He passed by his fallen victim and had advanced probably twenty feet from where he was standing when he fired the fatal shot. Turning his face to his pursuers, he again attempted to use his Winchester. John Kloehr's rifle spoke in unmistakable tones another time, and the oldest member of the band dropped with a bullet in his throat and a broken neck. "

This left only Emmett alive. He mounted his horse and was immediately slammed with a volley of lead. and hit multiple times. Rifles slugs in his right arm and left hip and groin, he still could have bolted to freedom BUT he rode back to where Bob was dying and attempted to help him onto his horse with him. BRAVE MAN. Bob, who had earlier told them he was done for, and to "DIE GAME, BOYS", now faintly said, "it's no use". Bob Died. Emmett now was BLASTED!, according to an old timer, here is what happened next:

"Carey Seaman (correctly spelled Cary Semans) was my gggreat grandfather. He was the town barber and had just came back into town from hunting. He was mostly the only one with his gun and ammo. He Unloaded both barrals into Emmett. When Emmett was released from Jail the Semans went into hiding unsure if Emmett would come after them."

The reports say Emmett had between 20-23 wounds. (I suspect that many were from this shotgun blast/s.)

A great online piece of contemporary history is from this article in The Indian Chieftan of October 6, 1892:

http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83025010/1892-10-06/ed-1/seq-2/;words=Dalton+DALTONS+Coffeyville?date1=1836&rows=20&searchType=basic&state=&date2=1922&proxtext=Dalton+Coffeyville&y=0&x=0&dateFilterType=yearRange&index=3

"Hideout", complete with tunnel:

http://media.rd.com/rd/images/rdc/family-travel/poi/KS-poi-dalton-gang-hideout-af.jpg

Bob'c Colt:

http://www.christies.com/lotfinderimages/d13758/d1375852r.jpg

Another view:

http://www.kayempea.net/images/cvilleplan.jpg

Final tallies:

Citizens killed in the Raid were:

Charles T. Connelly, a 46-year-old school teacher who also served
as the Marshal.
Charles Brown, 59, a shoemaker.
George B. Cubine, 36, another shoemaker.
Lucius M. Baldwin, 23-year-old clerk in the Read Brothers store.



The dead bandits were:

Bob Dalton, leader of the band, who was 30
Grat Dalton, age 33.
Bill Power (Tim Evans)
Dick Broadwell

[Gibson]

Thoughts?

An armed citizenry can be formidable.

Years later, Henry Starr and cohorts would attempt a double whammy as well. Henry was indeed the last or one of the last of the old-time "badmen". We may try a sketch on him later. Certainly he died game.

[Gibson]

http://hoocher.com/Charles_Marion_Russell/Men_of_the_Open_Range_1923.jpg

http://hoocher.com/Charles_Marion_Russell/When_the_Land_Belonged_to_God_1914.jpg

http://hoocher.com/Charles_Marion_Russell/Running_Buffalo_1918.jpg

[gunseller]

Gibson, I have been to the Dalton hide out and walked the tunnel. They had a good plan but did not have a look at what was going on in town before the they tried the robbery. Bonnie and Clyde had the same problem north of Dexter, Iowa. B&C got away but others did not. I have spoken with some of the locals who were there and held some of the firearms that were carried that day.
Steve

[Gibson]

Interesting stuff, Steve. Seriously, I appreciate you sharing.

I have never been to the that area. Later, some of the remnants of the gang fought the "Battle of Ingalls". Man, there was some lead thrown there! I learned about an interesting character known as "Arkansas Tom". The guy was a dyed-in-the-wool criminal. No kidding. He served a long stint, got out and went back to it. His criminal career went WELL into the 20th century. I have a sketch on Bill Doolin and the guys at Ingalls. I'll get to it. They shot it out with lawmen, intently, on that 1893 day.

[jmort]

I wonder how much recon they did. Kicking a hornet's nest really bad idea. 4 and 4 good/bad casualties, not a great showing by the gang and their "mastermind."

[Gibson]

"We tried a desperate game and lost. But we are rough men used to rough ways, and we will abide by the consequences."

-Thomas Coleman Younger

It seems, according to Cole, that he was wounded a total of 11 times between 2:00 pm 7 September and 21 September, 1876. Make no mistake he was a large man for the day, he was roughly 6' tall and around 230 lbs. but even at that being shot 11 times, even if most were less than life threatening it is still amazing. One bullet entered the back of his skull and traveled to behind or near his right eye. (Note the picture) Rough men. . .

From what I have gathered it appears that eight men attempted to rob the First National Bank of Northfield, Minnesota. An old James Gang member Jim Cummins claimed to be there but it seems to me nonsense. Homer Croy referred to him as a sniveler and a "cry-baby".

So we have Jesse and Frank James, (never indicted nor named but. . .) the three Younger brothers, Charlie Pitts, Bill Chadwell, and Clell Miller. These men clad in, what I had always assumed was legendary BS, full length dusters, came to Division Street at different times but all within an hour. Cole indicates that Jesse, Bob Younger, and Charlie Pitts went into the bank. Most seem to believe it was Frank, Jesse, and Bob Younger. Whatever the case may be it seems pretty that at least one if not more were drunk.

Cole and Miller were outside the front of the bank. Everything went downhill from here for the outlaws. . . overzealous and creating a circus the three guys in the bank vaulted the counter (must have been a sight!) but bank acting cashier Heywood refuses to open the vault, giving the outlaws some excuse about a time lock. Apparently Bob knocked him almost completely out with his revolver, after Heywood made more trouble for them. Jesse then stirred him and put a knife to his throat, but it was still a no go on the vault. At this point townsfolk have become alerted after Miller turns away a customer. Cole fires off a round to signal the remaining three outlaws to come into the action. (So says Cole's account but I suspect it happened a bit differently, cf. below) They are operating as they had in times passed, "hoorah-ing" the town. But this time the citizens do run as wanted but then arm themselves and from cover begin a general lead-fest. People are shouting "robbery" and for the outlaws all has turned to chaos. Both inside and outside the bank. One employee attempts to escape from the bank and is shot by Bob. Cole is by now pleading for the three men to get out of the bank and make a run for it.

Odd thing, when this all started Clell Miller had a clean shot at a fleeing man named Wheeler. Strangely Cole leaves this completely out of his account but I suspect that the following is more accurate. Wheeler had heard the ruckus and was running down the street shouting about a robbery, Miller had a clean shot but sailed the bullet just over his head. If done on purpose to merely frighten him, it was the worst mistake Miller ever made. Shortly Wheeler would be back in the fight with an old Army carbine and shoot Miller graveyard dead.

These Minnesotans are really raining down lead on the bandits! A citizen spies three horses that belong to the outlaws, tethered. He shoots one of them, dead. This turns out to be Bob's horse. The same fellow, Manning, draws a bead on Cole and shoots him right in the forehead. Well, actually, he nailed Cole's hat putting it forever out of commission. Next, a citizen on the street who spoke little to no English, Gustafson, was shot and ultimately killed by parties unknown. Cole Younger plead guilty to the murder of Gustafson and has been quoted as yelling at him to "get out of the damned street". Shortly after ignoring that order he was shot. Cole probably shot him down for seemingly ignoring him. . .

Manning was now lined up on Bill Chadwell and despite prodding from multiple citizens took his time and made an absolutely perfect heart shot. Chadwell was sitting in his saddle randomly firing when the projectile pierced his heart, he "stood in his saddle and gasped for air, before tumbling out of it and falling to the dirt street below. He was dead before he hit the ground." Next it was Miller's turn to meet his Maker. Wheeler, with his "Army carbine", had a bead on Miller. He dropped the hammer on him. "The slug hit Clell just below the left shoulder, severing his subclavian artery. The blast knocked him off his horse and he landed face first in the dirt. With blood gushing out of his eye, face, and shoulder, he attempted to lift himself up on his arms, but after about three seconds of this, his strength gave up and he toppled over. Cole saw this and raced towards him. Reaching his body, he dismounted and, using his horse for cover, knelt to examine Clell. Discovering he was dead, he grabbed Clell’s pistols and cartridge belts and attempted to remount. As he was doing so, another bullet tore through his left thigh. He winced in pain, but managed to pull himself up on his horse and make another charge. He ran passed the bank door again and yelled inside, 'They’re killing our men! Get out here!'"

The last man out the bank door turned around, leveled a revolver on Heyward and blew his brains out. Historians generally believe this was Franklin James.

The bloody cold wet retreat was now on. Part two, upcoming: Hanska Slough.

Cole:

http://collections.mnhs.org/visualresources/VRDbimages/pf101/pf101854.jpg

http://collections.mnhs.org/visualresources/VRDbimages/pf069/pf069650.jpg

I believe this may be an actual duster worn by one of the outlaws:

http://jamesallder.files.wordpress.com/2011/09/duster.jpg

[Gibson]

I always thought that the dusters thing was Hollywood BS. BUT alas, it's fact. Can you see those guys(Chadwell was 6'4 1/2" and two of the Youngers were 6' or better) riding in on the finest of horseflesh beclad in long linen dusters? Now can Hollyweird really outdo that? The truth?

Certainly "The Long Riders" has it's flaws but I'd say the appearance of the riders was close to spot on.

[Gibson]

So, as they leave Northfield, Thomas Coleman Younger drops back and holds off the citizenry.

These guys were shot to pieces. "Cole Younger had been shot five times, in the left thigh, left hip, right arm, right side, and left shoulder. Jim Younger had been shot three times, once in each shoulder and in the back of his right leg. Frank James and Charlie Pitts had each been shot once; Frank in the right leg, above the knee, and Charlie in the upper left arm. Frank, however, also had his arm and hand slammed in the door of the vault of Northfield’s bank, and this wound cause him much pain for several days to follow."

The first posse did not follow long but the telegraphs go out everywhere and eventually you have 1000+ men searching for the outlaws. These men are struggling along but display grit in the extreme. It is a slow plodding and PAINFUL retreat. One cannot imagine what this must have been like. They survived on what they could scavenge for the most part. They managed to procure (steal) another mount, so all had horses. In short order, Bob continually falls from his mount due to blood loss from the elbow wound.

On the 8th of September a cold and dreary rain sets in and stays for a long while.

After days of struggling through this nightmare, even losing their mounts and managing to only steal two replacements, the guys run upon a farmer. Jesse wants to kill him to insure his silence but it appears that Cole stepped in and saved the guy. After being tied up for a bit he was freed and swore an oath not to reveal that they were there. (Suffice it to say, he did not keep it and soon the pursuers were back on the trail.)

With Bob continuing to fall off his mount, they gang decided to split up. The James' took the horses and the injured would remain afoot and take separate path. Strangely Pitts although not badly hurt, stayed. I suspect there was bad blood in this separation. So the James' head off rather westward, eventually making their way Iowa and then the Dakota Territory, and eventually made good their escape. Worthy of note is the fact that both were wounded in the leg by a posse member shortly after separating from the others.

Eventually Cole and his faction end up surrounded near Madelia in area known as Hanska Slough. And after an opening volley from the posse they took cover behind a deadfall.

For two full weeks these hard put and desperate men have survived, often afoot, in a totally strange land, and TERRIBLY wounded. Accounts differ. Either they had some horses secreted at this tiime and Cole told the men, it will be every man for himself as we run to the horses and any man who makes it try and and break through the posse's lines. Or more likely they simply were tired and fed up and decided to make a last fight. Pitts asked Cole if he should surrender, Cole replied, do as you want. Pitts declined. Charlie Pitts was a game man by all accounts that I have read of him.

Seven of the posse members advance on the deadfall, evidently Cole fires a shot which hits a posse member and Pitts jumps to his feet blazing away with two large revolvers. He is cut down immediately as the posse returns fire on what was a severely wounded party of three, as Bob could not fire and was relegated to reloading duties.

Pitts wad dead. Jim younger was unconscious, Cole was hit six more times, including the bullet that entered his skull from the rear and lodged behind his right eye; it ended his fight. So the posse advanced and demanded surrender. It seems that Bob held a bloody kerchief and surrendered for the lot of them.

Here is where you can take your pick:

Story one penned by a grown man who witnessed the outlaws being brought in at the age of nine. The remarkable thing is that he details going into town the next morning to find Cole Younger cuffed and standing bareheaded under a cottonwood tree being photographed. This man had taken 11 bullet wounds over the last two weeks! He is adamant about the following quote he clearly heard Cole say: "I want to tell these people that I think your sheriff and the posse are brave men, excepting one, who after we had surrendered and thrown down our guns and I was the only one standing (?), Willis Bundy, one of the posse shot my brother Jim, who was lying on the ground, in the chin, a cowardly thing to do and if I live to be a free man, I will hunt that man down and kill him."

Another account has Bundy shooting Bob through the chest after they surrendered. Suffice it to say, Bob was indeed shot through the lung and Jim suffered an unbelievably horrific wound to his face.

Still another account has Bob surrendering and then, "Cole was beginning to awake already and offered to fight the posse’s two best men in hand-to-hand combat. Bob walked over, wrapped his left arm around Cole, and whispered in his ear, 'Cole, it’s over. Give it up or they’ll hang us for sure.' Cole reluctantly agreed and also surrendered."

However the end came, it did come. The men were taken back and held for trial. On the way Jim hung his heard over the side of the transport because of the intense bleeding. A woman, along the way, ran from her house with a clean cloth and gave it to him. His brother Cole stood and nodded to a cluster of women gathered to watch the spectacle.

Just to drive home the point of privation due to weather that these men went through, when Cole's boots were removed everyone of his toenails fell off.

From their capture forward, neither Cole nor his brothers ever identified the James' as being there. Cole believed that one never did such a thing.

It was 25 years before Cole would ever have any semblance of freedom again.

The .32 Moore Rimfire taken from Cole by the posse:

https://contentdm.carleton.edu/cgi-bin/getimage.exe?CISOROOT=/NfldHistSoc&CISOPTR=2945&DMSCALE=23.74357&DMWIDTH=600&DMHEIGHT=600&DMX=0&DMY=0&DMTEXT=%20Cole&REC=7&DMTHUMB=1&DMROTATE=0

Possibly another gun taken from Cole:

http://www.geocities.ws/greyno1457/coleyounger_s_44.jpg

http://deadbutdreamin.files.wordpress.com/2008/11/jimyounger3.jpg

http://amberandchaos.com/tp/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/2Northfield0907.jpg

http://www-tc.pbs.org/wgbh/americanexperience/media/uploads/special_features/timeline/content_images/james_timeline_1876.jpg

[Gibson]

I truly believe that this failure was due to three things:

1) Whiskey (although it has been disputed, more than one citizen reported smelling alcohol strongly)

2) Failure to destroy the telegraph lines

3) A VERY WELL ARMED CITIZENRY. Gun store owner was also passing out firearms.

Can you imagine this in modern times? Citizens would be completely out of bounds and the police would be hamstrung. . .

That said, I suspect a totally sober group of bank entrants may have rescued the plot, but maybe not. . . It's difficult say after all these guys were in the wide open street and the Lord only knows how many men were firing from all directions, from good cover, at this small group. Much like mice in a barrel.

An aside:

I once visited the old frame house of George Hite, uncle of the Jameses and friend of the Youngers, in Adairville, KY. Not far from the 1868 Russellville Bank robbery pulled off by the gang. . .

"The Hite Home, near Adairville, Logan Co., KY, was a favorite refuge for the James Gang. Jesse continued to suffer from the lung wound he received while attempting to surrender as the Civil War came to an end. He learned of a Doctor Eve in Nashville, Davidson Co., TN who specialized in treating such wounds. Jesse had joined the Anderson Gang at the age of 17. After the gang's bold robbery of Clay County Savings Bank in Liberty, Clay Co., MO on 13 Feb 1866, Jesse along with his brother Frank and the Younger Brothers Associated, took refuge at the home of George and Nancy. From there, Jesse sought treatment from Doctor Eve and recuperated for several months. As he regained strength, and by now needing money, Jesse along with Frank James, Cole Younger, Jim White, John Jarret and George Shepard, who had all served together with Quantrill during the Civil War, chose to rob the Southern Deposit Bank of Russellville, Logan Co., KY on 20 Mar 1868. Somewhat more confident from their success they had in their first bank robbery in Liberty, Clay Co., MO, the gang took between 9 and 14 thousand dollars and once more took refuse at the Hite home. The James' always considered them-selves Missouri-Indian Territory folks, though they had major ties to Fort Scott."

The passage quoted above ^ is uncorrected but probably still has less typos than my scratch. . .

[jmort]

Here is link to free book from the Gutenberg Project "The Story of Cole Younger, by Himself by Cole Younger."
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24585 I will for sure download and read.
5/5 at least on the tough guy scale. Good News was that he was Saved on or about 8-21-1912 so we will enjoy his company in Heaven.

[Mike.44]

I really am enjoying this stuff.

[Gibson]

Here is link to free book from the Gutenberg Project "The Story of Cole Younger, by Himself by Cole Younger."
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/24585 I will for sure download and read.
5/5 at least on the tough guy scale. Good News was that he was Saved on or about 8-21-1912 so we will enjoy his company in Heaven.

Correct on so many levels!

Hey man! You can also acquire this book:

http://archive.org/details/hildebrandsamuel00hildrich

Hildebrand was a double tough, ah, shall we say, Partisan. Named his rifle, KILL-DEVIL.

"Most Civil War historians now agree that the guerrilla conflict shaped the entire war in significant ways. Some of these "bushwhackers"--Forrest, Quantrill, Mosby--have become quite famous. Illiterate Sam Hildebrand, one of Missouri's most notorious guerrillas--often compared to "Rob Roy" and the subject of dime novels--was one of the few to survive the war and have his story taken down and published. Shortly after this he was killed in a barroom brawl.

Hildebrand's reign of terror gave the Union army fits and kept much of Trans-Mississippi, especially Missouri, roiling in the 1860s. Over seven years of fighting he and his men killed dozens of soldiers and civilians, whites and blacks; he claimed to have killed nearly one hundred himself. He was accused of many heinous acts.

The historical significance of Hildebrand's story is substantial, but his bloody tale is eminently readable and stands quite well on its own as a cold-blooded portrait of a violent time in American history. Hildebrand's world is truly ruthless and his story brutally descriptive in its cooly detached rendering of one man's personal war.

Published in 1870, Hildebrand's autobiography has long been out of print and has been a rare and highly prized acquisition among Civil War historians and enthusiasts. "

[Gibson]

I really am enjoying this stuff.

Thanks, Mike.44. It's good to hear.

[Gibson]

Hey guys. . .

Ran across these on the web and as I figure, generally speakin', some of our followers might get a kick outta this old boys wit and wisdom :)

Wit:

They're a hair trigger outfit just meaner than a four-headed rattlesnake. — “A Family of Killers”

If this gun goes off, it'll be the first thing that ever was inside yer head" —“Hard Luck Henry” Festus to Jefferson Dooley.

If that ain't a ornery looksome polecat. Look at them beady eyes! —“Like Old Times” (Festus is looking at a picture of Frank Eaton, who also is played by Ken Curtis)

Them two cubs of yourn was triple distilled ornery. The worst I have ever saw. —“The Avengers”

Let me tell you somethin’ about some of these folks in Dodge. They’re the greediest, cheaten’-ist, double-dealin’-ist bunch of yahoos that I have ever saw —“Byline”

You're a mighty man, Ben Snow. But you ain't got the sense to holler suey if the hogs are eatin' you up. —Island in the Desert

Wisdom:

The onliest thing you get from straddlin’ the fence is a sore backside. —“Prairie Wolfer”

I'll tell you this, you keep a stuffing them vittles away like that, you're gonna get so blamed fat you can't even stand up. —“The Hiders”

The way it appears to me, a doctor is supposed to be patient with his patients expecting him to have patience. And you're just a gonna wind up to where you ain't got no patients if you don't start a havin' some patience, I'll tell ya that! —“Doctor Herman Schultz, M.D.”

Newly, you hadn't oughta be a squallin' at these folks like that...—“The Hanging of Newly O'Brien”

My pappy learnt me real early that they’s only three times when a feller handles a gun. That’s when he’s cleanin’ it or when he’s loadin’ it or when he’s fixin’ to use it. —“Killer at Large”

Here's another supremely cool Russell. We will cover this event: Buffalo Bill and Yellow Hand ("Yellow Hair") in the future:

http://media.wnyc.org/media/photologue/photos/cache/10%20Buffalo%20Bill%27s%20Duel_storyslide_image.jp g

[Gibson]

Just an interlude. . . I've mentioned this before.

Miller-Frazier Feud

Here is a quote from an article that I cannot verify but it sounds reasonable: "On the morning of the 14th, Bud was playing cards with friends in a saloon, when Miller pushed open the door and fired with both barrels, practically blowing Frazer's (sic) head from his body. When Bud's distraught sister approached Miller with a gun, he said to her: "I'll give you what your brother got -- I'll shoot you right in the face!"' She then put down the gun and fled. . .

Miller was acquitted when it was considered that TWICE Frazier had assaulted Miller. Once emptying his .44 revolver into Miller and on a second occasion fleeing after firing four more rounds into the still standing Miller. (From what I can glean no one told Frazier about the plate Miller wore.***)

[The name Deacon Jim was given him because of his attire. He almost constantly, even in the hottest of weather, wore a long black frock coat. See below for explanation as to the plate.]

George Bud Frazier:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-texas/BudFrazer.jpg

Deacon Jim Miller:

http://www.jcs-group.com/oldwest/ahpeople/miller1.jpg

***About the pig iron plate, I wrote the following a while back:

"To be honest it is fashionable to "debunk" these old-timers and the Good Lord knows Hollywood has exaggerated their exploits. But the truth is some of these guys were truly DESPERATE MEN. Hollywood and fiction writers do not scratch the surface with guys like Harvey Logan and Killin' Jim Miller. Miller assassinated untold numbers of men. Remember the Eastwood spaghetti flic where he donned the iron vest? Well guess what? Jim Miller did it in real life, saved his neck. (Actually,might have done it TWICE.) Survived two attempts on his life by the same man [Bud Frazier] from almost point blank range. Eventually walked into the doorway of a saloon, leveled his trusty shotgun against the door and blew the would be assassin's brains out, LITERALLY."

Finally hanged in 1909. Miller = BADAXX! Anyone know who one of his relatives that he called on for legal advice was? Guy was living in El Paso at the time, uh, oh yeah, some old boy by the name, Hardin. :)

Many murders later, Jim was hanged along with three others. It has been said that the other three begged for mercy from the mob, Jim just asked for his hat.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8c/Jim_miller_hanging.jpg

[gunseller]

Gibson I love the stories about the James boys. I have been to St Joe to the house where Jessie was killed. Where I grew up the local History Socity put out a map of the route that the James boys took going to Northfield and to the train robbery in Adair,Iowa. I do not know where their info on the route came from. Both were within a few hundred yards of the house where I grew up. My dad's sister lived in Adair and had purchased a small table at a sale south of Adair. Later I learned that sopposedly the James boys had been feed on that table the night before the train robbery. The lady of the house found a $20 gold peice under one of the plates when she was cleaning up after they had eaten and went outside. They also spent the night in the barn of the owners of the property. I have also handled a watch that was found with other jewlery south of Bridgewater, where several men had camped the night after the robbery. The law told the kids that found the jewlery that they could keep one watch for finding the jewlery and telling the law. Don't have any way toprove some of the above it is just what I have been told over the years.
Steve

[9.3X62AL]

Superb work, Gibson. I'm enjoying the read IMMENSELY!

[Gibson]

gunseller keep the personal stories coming! You might think I'm stupid for suggesting this. But, if you could write up any personal anecdote that you deem as likely factual and send it to the museum, library or archives, it could be valuable to researchers. Researchers can get help from such things. Often they find themselves piecing together a puzzle and may be able to prove or disprove your anecdote. The table and watch story and anything you recall being told about them are good ephemeral things. And again, keep posting, I love it!

Cole Younger was a tough SOB, you know it? I'm serious. Some men are just plain cut from different cloth. To me, even in the picture with his eye swollen shut, it just makes me think, yeah, that's Coleman. Battered, Bloodied, and still very much UNBOWED.

I do not mean to glorify these guys. But, I must admit, I find things in Cole's character, admirable. No, not robbing and killing. But mental and physical toughness. Those boys, and MANY others, grew up in a literal hell on earth. They saw the blood of innocent family members spilled time and again. Some were able to cope with it and live productive lives, some not so much. THERE IS NO WAR LIKE A CIVIL WAR. And in my opinion, when it's Americans it's worse :(

[Gibson]

Superb work, Gibson. I'm enjoying the read IMMENSELY!

Sure is good to hear, or read, as it were :)

You know something? I was just thinking about Killin' Jim Miller and his alleged murder of Pat Garrett. . . Old Pat Garrett put several ****** outlaws in the ground, no kidding. I have no material on him but he was absolutely tough and way underestimated, IMO.

Over on rugerforum, I just finished one yesterday on Jim Levy (or Leavy) the Jewish Irish gunfighter. A genuine meet me in street and draw gunfighter. I'll get to that one, here.

9.3C62AL, I thank you, again. Glad to find you guys here that still enjoy the old tales. Don't ever let these modern revisionists sell the old-timers short. They were often leather tough and as gritty as a bulldog.

Need to see if I have posted on Dallas Stoudenmire here or not. Might put a sketch of him up later.

What about the TERRIBLE HARPE BROTHERS? They are somewhat local to me and I spent a year doing research on them. My Lord, theses "brothers" were the human incarnation of Satan. Not sure it fits here totally as they were extant ~1800 and were a scourge on the OLD old west, i.e. Kentucky/Tennessee.

[Gibson]

"Dallas Stoudenmire: FOUR DEAD IN FIVE SECONDS" at 5:30 this evening, so put on a pot of coffee :)

For those who care, here is a link where you can get every episode of "Gunsmoke" the radio show. They are a 11 zipped CDs to include the first TV episode ever. It is TOTALLY FREE. I have them all and I burned them to CD. Here is the blurb and the link:

"First Show: Jun 26, 1952
Last Show: Jun 18, 1961
Number Shows: 480 shows, 2 auditions, 5 hour tribute
Audition Shows: Jun 11, 1949, Jul 13, 1949

Series Description:

Gunsmoke is one of those long-running classic Old-Time Radio shows that everyone knows and remembers. It's also one that is still respected for its high values, in all aspects. Gunsmoke first aired on the CBS network on April 26, 1952, billed as the first adult western. It was set in Dodge City, Kansas in the 1870's.

The main character, Matt Dillon, was played by William Conrad. On August 6, 1951, William Conrad played the lead in a show entitled "Pagosa" in the series Romance, where he played the part of a reluctant sheriff in a tough Western town. Although not a true audition, Conrad's character role is very close the that of Matt Dillon in Gunsmoke. It was one of the "stepping stones" toward the production of Gunsmoke.

Other regular characters were Chester Proudfoot, played by Parley Baer; Kitty, played by Georgia Ellis; and Doc Adams, played by Howard McNear.

The series featured top-notch acting and well-developed scripts that set it apart from many other shows, not only Westerns; however, it was the sound effects that stood out the most. Listen carefully and one can hear many levels of sound that really helps transport the listener back to the old west.

Besides the US version, there was an Austrailian production of Gunsmoke. It began sometime in 1955, transcribed under the Artransa label, and aired Mondays at 7:00 PM on the Macquarie network. It is not known how many shows aired or how long the series ran.


This OTRR Certified Archival release contains all except six episodes, which are not known to exist. It consists of eleven zipped CDs. The first CD contains many bonus materials, including the Tribute Show, the first TV episode, all known Australian episodes, and a lot of other great stuff."

http://archive.org/details/OTRR_Certified_Gunsmoke

[Gibson]

Coming up:



Contemporary view of where our next blazing sixgun incident occurred.

http://www.helloelpaso.com/Images/Buildings/662006El-Paso-1903.jpg

A Tough Hombre:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/0/0b/Dallas_Stoudenmire.jpg

El Paso. . . April 14, 1881. Get a cup of coffee and sit a spell. . .

FOUR DEAD IN FIVE SECONDS

[Gibson]

VAQUEROS

Dallas Stoudenmire stood 6' 4" and was both athletic and fast. He was at times a good man and at times a bad man. He was smart. He was always well dressed. But above all he was tough and he had a mean streak. It reared it's head in his all too often drinking bouts (eventually his drunkenness led to his undoing).

Stoudenmire had been born in Alabama in 1845 and had entered the civil war as a 16 year old. Stoudenmire was rumored to have killed at least two men in gunfights during the 1870s. He moved to Texas and even did a stint with The Texas Rangers. He landed in El Paso. . .

In late 1880 a Kentuckian named George Campbell was given the job as El Paso City Marshal. A man noted for bravery and honesty in prior law enforcement work. However, he resigned in January 1881 over a pay dispute. However, he stuck around El Paso as he liked the place. . . On April 11, 1881 Dallas Stoudenmire took over the position of City Marshal. George Campbell would soon wish he left El Paso.

The newest Marshal took over a rowdy town replete with pimps, gamblers gunmen, lots of rustlers, plenty of whiskey and plenty of "soiled doves". He would within a short time make a great ways toward both cleaning it up and slightly contributing to it. Texas was a tough place and El Paso was a darned tough place. But Stoudenmire literally cast a giant shadow and a town full of gunmen, and outlaws watched him very carefully.

A civil war veteran with more than one gunshot wound and having likely three dead men to his credit. Dallas Stoudenmire knew that all eyes were on him from the outset. In three days he would deliver an object lesson.

Bosques, dark and foreboding, lined the Rio Grande and those along with briar encrusted thickets and scruff provided cover for the ever plentiful rustlers mostly but the occasional murderer/robber. Contemporary newspapers have stories of screams echoing from the area. Dead men that originated here were rarely identified. The rustlers were bold here and operated rather openly. Posses if small met with shotgun blasts when they entered this area and if large the outlaws just hid and waited. The biggest outfit of rustlers was run by the Manning brothers, Frank, John, and James. An adjacent ranch, that of John Hale, together with the Manning spread was the center of rustling operations. Hale was a tree tall man of English parentage and evidently also a hard case. The rustling enterprise had numerous gunmen associated with it, it seems George Campbell may have been one of them. An ironic twist. . .

The germ for what was to become known as "Four Dead in Five Seconds" involved two vaqueros. :) No! Not those kind. But hardworking Mexican cow-hands. To wit, "Sanchez and Juarique". These men had come across the border in search of 30 head of rustled cattle. They had involved the authorities and everyone knew where to begin the search. They had gone almost directly to the Hale ranch and within a short time had located three head of the stolen cattle at which time Hale began a vitriolic defense saying he had purchased the cattle from Don Ynocente Ochoa. A blatant lie. The couple of officers who had accompanied Sanchez and Juarique, eventually turned back since only three of the missing thirty head were located along with Hale's vociferous defense. The two vaqueros stayed to search further. Long story short they were ambushed and slain by two of the Hale/Manning men, Stevenson and Peveler. Shortly a contingent of 80 Mexican cowboys come across to get their friends bodies. The men asked one George Krempkau to accompany them to the ranch where they already knew they were. They located the bodies, loaded them in a buckboard and drove them back, this was long about daylight on the 14th of April. A private Fitch seems to have seen clearly that the vaqueros were ambushed and the Stevenson and Peveler were the culprits, he probably had inside information. Fitch went out straight away and arrested the two and put them in jail and released them under bond.

Now in a two room adobe shack with Krempkau acting as interpreter the men of both races gathered, both inside and outside, for an inquest. . .

[Gibson]

The Mexicans are riled up and the rustlers are too. It is easy to see why the Mexicans are upset when the bullet riddled bodies of the two vaqueros are viewed. Krempkau is at the Inquest and is vigorously advocating the indictment of Stevenson and Peveler, as it has become clear that they are the most responsible parties. The situation was becoming ugly, quick. Our Marshal turned outlaw, George Campbell sat in on the Inquest watching his friend, Hale vociferously protest that his two men are innocent. This back and forth proceeded until the authorities were made aware of the snarling and cursing going on in the street . The Inquest was unceremoniously adjourned.

Dallas Stoudenmire walked out of the Inquest and into legend. Strangely, shortly after the Inquest was adjourned the Mexicans took their two friends back across the border, Stoudenmire went to lunch and Krempkau was left there with the wrath of the rustlers. Poste haste, George Campbell began too heavily pound down whiskey. Campbell had stated publicly that he would dispatch with Marshal Stoudenmire within five days of his taking office. With Stoudenmire leisurely enjoying a meal, Krempkau finally left the Inquest and headed over to where he had left his arms. A rifle, a revolver, and holster and belt. Campbell shouted at Mr. Krempkau with epithets and accusing him of falsely interpreting what had been said by the English speakers to his Spanish interlocutors. He then yells, according to the outstanding El Paso area historian, Leon Metz, "hey, any American who is a friend of Mexicans ought to be hanged." Krempkau, embarrassed asks if he mean him, he replies, "if the shoe fits, wear it!" Thinking his witty reply is the end he turns and walks away. But now an also drunken Hale shows up. He sprints over to where Campbell is is attempting to mount his ride and yells to him that he has Krempkau as he grabs a heavy .45 caliber revolver from George Campbell, one of the two which he had strapped on. At the very same instant he squeezes the trigger hitting Krempkau in the chest near his heart, the big bullet crashed through his lung and out the other side of his body. He fell trying bravely to pull his own .45. Dead. Enter Dallas Stoudenmire. . .

The big Marshal jumps up and sprints through the door, Hale immediately sees him and ducks behind an adobe support pillar. Stoudenmire seeing Hale heading for cover snaps off a shot from one of his .45 revolvers, he is in a dead run and at a range of 90 feet, the bullets just passes over Hale's shoulder. Bad luck for a Mexican bystander as the bag of peanuts he just purchased will be his last action on planet earth. He is hit and killed. Two dead. Stoudenmire is still moving forward and re-cocks his revolver and fires just as Hale has peaked out from his blind. The bullet tears through the rustlers brain pan. He hits the ground dead. Three dead.

Now Mr. Big Talk AKA George Campbell decides its just not his fight and reckons he had better take his leave. As Hale is falling he runs to the middle of the street with his second revolver in hand and wildly proclaims it's not his fight. But Krempkau who lays dying grits his teeth and cuts drive on him hitting him striking him once in the foot and once in the hand tearing up his gun hand. Now old George is in desperate straights, he grabs his revolver in his left hand just as Krempkau's three other rounds go astray. Enter Stoudenmire. He turns from the dead Hale and opens up on Campbell, as all he sees is a man with a gun. The spinning shot hits it mark dead in the breadbox. Campbell hit his knees and yells, “you big son-a-bitch, you murdered me." Dies later that evening. Death number four.

This entire event, in actuality, took more or less 30 seconds.

Leon Metz relates a funny story that occurred at the end. Paraphrased:

George Campbell had a partner named Pat Shea. Pat could see George laying there in a river of his own blood, dying. Now ole Pat, being a great friend quickly assesses the situation and because he covets George's sixshooter, cries out, "hey George?"You want your gun?" He is running over toward George when two sixshooters with that fresh smell of burning powder are jammed under his nose by Stoudenmire. LOL! Nevertheless at around 2 am Campbell, dying, requests that his second sixgun be given Shea.

Stoudenmire, tough!

El Paso:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-texas/ElPasoStreet1888-500.jpg

Stoudenmire's Snubnose :)

http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-04Z7-hLLRE0/T90Nbju16hI/AAAAAAAAER4/LGWkRINihoM/s1600/Stoudenmire1860Colt.jpg

http://www.farwest.it/FOTOxSITO/2010/04/FOUR-DEAD-MEN-IN-FIVE-SECONDS-prima-parte-1.jpg

http://image2.findagrave.com/photos/2007/82/8332262_117477430526.jpg

THIS IS THE TRUTH: Dallas Stoudenmire was the real deal. Leon Metz, some years back, published an excellent biography of him. I can guarantee he fought in more gun battles than most all of his famous contemporaries. Truth be told the only way he was defeated was by double teaming. And even then it took his only insurmountable demon, booze to cause his downfall.

[Gibson]

Addenda:

Dallas continued a feud with the Manning brothers, eventually it was published in the El Paso Herald that the groups (well group of one in the case of Stoudenmire) had signed a peace treaty at the behest of the local citizenry. It did not last. The brothers and Stoudenmire met in a saloon (imagine that) to discuss a second treaty. In a sense it was the three Mannings versus a VERY drunk Stoudenmire. However, "Doc" Manning took the lead. Here is a reasonable facsimile of what occurred:

"'Dallas, you haven’t stuck to the terms of your agreement.” snarled Manning.

Stoudenmire roared:

“Who ever says I have not tells a damn lie!”

Walt Jones jumped between Doc Manning and Dallas Stoudenmire in an attempt to separate them. Nice idea, but too little too late. Doc Manning fired over Jones’ shoulder. Off balance, Stoudenmire was slow in getting his pistol out. Doc’s bullet passed through his arm and into the ribs, knocking his half-drawn pistol out of his hand. Stoudenmire staggered backwards, slumping against the doorframe. Doc closed in and fired again. Fortunately for Dallas the round was a squib load. The bullet struck Stoudenmire in the chest, punching through the wad of papers in his pocket, and a photograph. The impact knocked the tall man out the doors of the saloon and onto the sidewalk.

As Doc bounded out the door and closed in, Stoudenmire got his second pistol clear and fired. Doc Manning’s right arm was shattered, his pistol flying into the street. In agony, losing blood, Stoudenmire was slow to react. Manning rushed Stoudenmire, grappling with him and pinning his gun arm to his side. Cursing and swearing, Manning and Stoudenmire twisted and staggered on the sidewalk in a macabre “dance of death”. Stoudenmire was doing his damnedest to kill the little Doctor. Doc Manning was doing his damnedest to stay alive. Jim Manning came out of the saloon, a cutdown .45 in hand. He snapped off a shot, missing Stoudenmire and splintering the barber pole up the street. He took better aim and fired at the range of about eight feet. The bullet hit Stoudenmire just behind the right ear. Stoudenmire collapsed onto the sidewalk. The Dance of Death was over.

Texas Rangers J. M. Deavers and Ed Scotten were the first on the scene, Jim Gillett was close behind. They had to drag Doc Manning off Stoudenmire’s body. He had been beating the dead man’s head with his own pistol."

The way I figure it, both men were hit once and the smaller man, Doc, was NOT going to win the grappling match that was going on. I once surmised that the death shot was behind the left ear, but either way, it would be very difficult to be standing and shooting at a man on his back and hit him behind the ear. It seems reasonable that Dallas was on top wailing the guy when his brother killed him.

Another one who lived life wide open and by the gun. He died the same way.

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lp2WQ8lxFzg/T9ypS51chuI/AAAAAAAAAXc/dXJfplDPL-g/s1600/StoudenmireSWBadge.jpg

From Metz's book to show how bad his drinking was this is near the end of his days:

http://img713.imageshack.us/img713/8296/stoud1.jpg

Adios, for today. . .

[AnnieOakley]

To Gibson: Sent you a PM the other day, wanted to make sure you received it.

[Gibson]

Bear River/American River:

http://cprr.org/Museum/Photo-Gallery/images/I_ACCEPT_the_User_Agreement/hart_048b_detail.jpg

A view of Bear River City:

http://static.ddmcdn.com/gif/railroad-expansion-047d.jpg

A real old west hero:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/d/da/Thomas_J._Smith.jpg

"Bear River" Tom Smith was a heckuva man. Of that there can be no doubt. His reliance on his wits and "Marshal Big Fist" mentality was a hit with his frontier cohorts. He was LOVED by the citizens in his final job. Dwight David Eisenhower seems to revered Marshal Smith as a personal hero, visiting his grave multiple times.

Tom Smith was, by the end of his life, a lawman to be admired. Just a fact. He did not rely on his pistol first, he relied on a combination of brains and a right hand that could jar a man's eye teeth loose! But unlike some have written Tom Smith was plenty proficient with a sixgun and definitely used it.

Relying on the same article from the Kansas Historical Quarterly 1940, as yesterday, I quote the erudite Cushman again:

"In the spring of 1870 the board of trustees met again and elected T. C. Henry as chairman and appointed W. Fancher, a teacher in the school, as secretary. Thirty-two saloons were licensed, [47] closing hours indicated, houses of ill-fame in the city limits were outlawed, [48] and an attempt was made to recognize and enforce laws against the more flagrant crimes and secure some semblance of decency. City offices were created, including that of the city marshal, and ordinances were published. [49]

The particular ordinance which caused the most comment and turmoil Was the one forbidding the carrying of firearms within the city limits. It was announced on large bulletin boards at all the important roads entering town. These were first looked upon with awe and curiosity, and only gradually was their significance comprehended.

Tom Smith, from Kit Carson, Colo., was one of the first to apply for the position of city marshal. He was rejected. Several local men were tried and found wanting, while conditions went from bad to worse. The cowboys insolently ridiculed the officers and the disregard for law continued. The posters upon which the ordinances were published were shot so full of holes that they became illegible. [50]

Construction began on a city jail, but the cowboys tore it down, and it had to be rebuilt under a day-and-night guard. The first person to be incarcerated was a colored cook from one of the cattle camps near Abilene. A band of cowboys came to town, drove away the guards, forced the lock on the door and released the prisoner. They ordered the business houses to close, even riding into some stores and giving their orders from the saddle. They then rode out and proceeded to shoot up the town. A posse of citizens was formed and they were pursued. A few were captured and imprisoned. This, however, did not halt the aggressions, of the cowboys. They continued their open flaunting of the law and the abuse of law-abiding citizens. Two men, recommended by the St. Louis chief of police, came and looked the situation over but returned to St. Louis by the next train. The job was too complex for them.

Finally the application of Tom Smith was reconsidered. He was made marshal at a salary of $150 a month and two dollars for each conviction of persons arrested by him. J. H. McDonald was later selected as an assistant. [51]

Smith was of a reticent nature. Facts about his past were difficult to secure from him. It Was known that he had had a prominent part in a riotous disorder in the railroad terminus of Bear River; Wyo., several years before. Afterward it was learned that at one time he had served on the New York City police force. He had served also in the capacity of marshal of several of the Union Pacific terminal towns. [52]

Smith's first showdown in Abilene was with a. cowboy desperado called "Big Hank," who refused to disarm and used abusive language in his refusal. Without argument Smith struck him a terrific blow, took his pistol away from him, and ordered him out of town.

To the cowboys this was a new method of combat. They did not understand the technique of fisticuffs. [53] Their pride was in the perfect execution of a "quick draw" and not a "right cross" to the chin. In the cattle camps the subject of Hank's treatment was discussed at, length, and before morning a leader of the desperadoes known as "Wyoming Frank" wagered that he could defy the new marshal and his gun ordinance.

He came to town the next morning and ultimately met with Smith in the street. Smith walked toward him and asked him for his guns, which were being worn conspicuously. Frank backed slowly away, maneuvering for an advantage, and finally backed into the door of a saloon. Here they were surrounded by a crowd. Another request for his guns was answered profanely by Frank, and Smith placed him hors de combat with two smashes to the chin. He took Frank's guns away from him, beat him over the head with them, and told him to leave town and never return. Frank followed his instructions promptly.

The silence following this encounter was broken by the saloon proprietor, who stepped from behind the bar and said, "That was the nerviest act I ever saw. . . . Here is my gun. I reckon I'll not need it so long as you are marshal of this town." Others followed his example, and from that time Smith had very little trouble over the enforcement of the gun ordinance. Each business house had a sign which read, "You are expected to deposit your guns with the proprietor until you are ready to leave town." New arrivals soon found that this sign meant what it said. "

He was a different kind of man than Wild Bill. The townsman admired his style more. He was far more revered but Hickok was every bit as real, just different.

"Bear River" Tom Smith, in my mind, a hero.

Stay tuned.

[Gibson]

Some oft repeated but hard to nail down statements concerning Thomas J. Smith are:

1) He was born in 1830
2) He was born in New York and of Irish decent
3) He was on the NYCPD.

After some checking I take them all as reasonable. They have been handed down to us and none seem outrageous. And it appears that they have originated from Smith himself, put forth to the Abilene commissioners.

It has been stated numerous times that Tom Smith was, as a younger man, a national class middleweight boxer. Irishman-NYC-known to be a puncher as a lawman. . . checks out as reasonable, also. He got out of prize fighting and into policing, joining the New York City Police Department as a young man in his 20s. There seems to be have been a shooting incident that Tom was involved in, in which a 14 year old was killed. It was a clear accident. However, the incident so profoundly distracted Tom that he left policing and drifted into a railroad job. This is where it gets tricky.

The best I can make of it is that a lot of people have missed some things. It seems to me that Tom Smith landed in the VERY NEW city of Bear River, in Wyoming Territory. It was a railhead. I believe that in some fashion Tom was made a lawman, there. I cannot discern in what manner he was appointed but my guess is that some of the leaders got together and appointed Tom the man to police the town. His capabilities probably being manifest in his ability to quell folks who were over the top with a single blow. So, I think Tom Smith got his first policing job out west, in Bear River City. He likely left the railroad and took up his responsibility as best any man could. Within no time all hell and I mean all hell breaks loose.

It appears to me that two groups kind of became "organized" one was a group of- the closest they could come to- respectable citizens, strangely they were started by railroad tie drivers, and another group was the rather LESS respectable class of citizens. The vigilantes as they have been known was very likely aligned with Tom Smith in that he was the law in the town. Shortly they went too far. They lynched three men. I do not figure this set well with Tom and they bought a further group of men to jail. There was widespread rioting and raids at this point. Open war. The "less respectables", 250 strong stormed the jail and freed the prisoners. They captured a local newspaper office (it must have been makeshift, as it seems to have followed the railroad crew) and burned it to the ground. There was indeed a pitched battle. This is where Tom Smith became Bear River Tom Smith. From the best I can make of it, in the midst of this battle Tom managed by sheer will and some brutality to keep the entire town from being utterly destroyed. Tom held things down after a horrific amount of bloodshed early on. Someone managed to get word to the military and they showed up the next day to find 14 killed and 35 wounded. But Tom Smith was credited with keeping it from being untold more killed and wounded. Thus began the legend of "Bear River Tom Smith".

Tom next drifted to Nebraska and Carson City, Colorado in both areas he worked in law enforcement. Continuing to build his reputation as a no nonsense but honest and fair officer. In 1870 Smith drifted into a den iniquity known as Abilene Kansas. This place was a mess. They set up a council and appointed officers, they drafted ordinances, etc. They licensed 32 SALOONS! and ran the houses of ill-repute out of town, they also drafted an ordinance to restrict totally the carrying of arms in city limits. The last two failed miserably. The sign that disallowed arm in town was immediately filled full of lead by the cowboys. Enter Tom Smith. He applied for the newly created office of Town Marshal. Denied. The town tried at least three prior residents as town Marshal. They had been put on the road. The town was sinking into a cesspool of crime and licentiousness. The people of Abilene built a jail. Guess what? The cowboys rode into town and tore it to the ground. It was rebuilt and then had to be guarded against being torn down again, day and night. Next they even rode in, liberated a prisoner, rode into businesses on horseback and closed them, then rode out of town blasting away with sixguns. The town next tried to bring in two St. Louis officers they looked the place over and pronounced the job "too complex". The board of trustees decided that maybe they needed a man like Tom Smith. He was given the job at $150 a month and $2 for every conviction he made.

Tom immediately enforced the ban on firearms in the city limits and began to close down the soiled dove palaces. "Abilene Chronicle, September 8, 1870, it states that Smith told the “vile characters” to “close their dens–or suffer the consequences.” According to the article, all of the “houses of ill fame” quickly closed down and the women involved in that work left town shortly after."

The ban on firearms was mostly accepted but got challenged here and there. "The new Marshal Smith’s first order of business was to enforce an existing ordinance which prohibited the wearing of guns within the Abilene town limits. Smith began collecting firearms throughout the town so as to disarm everyone. All guns were returned when a person was leaving town. Smith was known for his preference not to use a gun and he attempted to enforce the law with his fists. On one occasion a burly man known as “Wyoming Frank” and his partner Hank Hawkins both known for their bad behavior had a run in with Marshal Smith. He
gave both men a public beating with his bare hands and banished both of them from Abilene. Marshal Smith’s feat quickly spread throughout the town and the law abiding citizens began to see that the right man was in the job. During his few months Smith had been very effective in reducing the rate of shootings and killings in town. However, the Marshal was unpopular with the Texas cowboys and the criminal element who resented being relieved of their guns. Marshal Smith would survive two assassination attempts in his first few months."

Smith's success got him a pay and title raise. His pay wen to $225 a month and his title was extended to Deputy U.S. Marshal. The next major incident is reported by the Republican Valley Empire of August 2, 1870 reported on Bear River Tom's capture of the notorious horse thief "Buckskin Bill":

“Under Sheriff Tom Smith, of Dickinson County, called on us on Monday. He had just returned from Brownsville, Nebraska, whither he had been in pursuit of Buckskin Bill, who stole horses at Abilene not long ago, an account of which we published. Bill had sold some of the stock at Pawnee City, and they attempted to prevent the sheriff from getting the property by telling him he had better get out, or he soon would have nothing to go out on. He does not speak in favorable terms of Pawnee City – thinks that a man who has anything loose about him had better give the town a wide berth. The sheriff captured nearly all the stock. Foster, Bill’s accomplice was in jail at Nebraska City, having shot a colored man in a fracas. The sheriff says that he was aided by the officers and people of St. Joe, Atchison and Marysville. Bill was safely lodged in jail at Brownsville. He has a father there who is a prominent citizen and a worthy man, and who feels keenly the bad conduct of his son.”

Tom Smith had gotten a hold on Abilene and even his death would not allow it to go back completely like it had been. . .

This was the event that began the end of the great Tom Smith's life. The Abilene Chronicle from October 27, 1870 wrote:

"We regret to learn that a fatal affray took place on last Saturday afternoon, near Chapman Creek, between two neighbors named John Shea and Andrew McConnell. The facts as related to us are substantially as follows: it seems that McConnell had been out with his gun hunting deer, on his return he found Shea driving a lot of cattle across his land. Some words passed between them, when Shea drew a revolver and snapped it twice at McConnell who stood leaning on his gun, and being on his own land. As Shea was cocking his pistol for the third time, McConnell drew up his gun and shot Shea through the heart, killing him instantly. McConnell went for a Doctor, and afterwards gave himself up, and had an examination before Mr. Davidson on last Tuesday, when a neighbor of both men, Mr. Miles, testified substantially to the above facts, and McConnell was discharged – the act having been done in self-defense. Shea leaves a widow and three children."

The Chronicle follows up this story noting further investigation by Marshal Smith and declaring that an arrest warrant has been reissued as it has become clear that the action was anything but "self-defense". On November 2nd, he and a deputy McDonald rode out to McConnell's dugout.

Abilene Chronicle November 3, 1870:

"Officer Smith informed McConnell of his official character and that he had a warrant for his arrest, whereupon McConnell shot Smith through the right lung; Smith also fired, wounding
McConnell; the two being close together grappled; Smith, although mortally wounded, was getting the better of
McConnell, when Miles struck him on the head with a gun felling him senseless to the ground, and seizing an ax chopped Smith’s head nearly from his body. At this stage of the tragedy officer McDonald returned to this place for assistance. A posse was raised, and repaired to the scene of the murder, but McConnell and Miles had fled, and up to this morning had not been arrested. They were both wounded, and it is reported were in Junction City last evening. It is hoped that they will be speedily arrested. We give the above named particulars as we gather them from reports current in town. The body of Mr. Smith was brought to this place last evening, and will be buried at 10 o’clock tomorrow. The sad event has cast a gloom over our town. Our citizens had learned to respect Mr. Smith as an officer who never shrank from the performance of his duty. He was a stranger to fear, and yet in the private walks of life a most diffident man. He came to this place of the wild shouts and pistol shots of ruffians who for two years had kept orderly citizens in dread for their lives. Abilene owes a debt of gratitude to the memory of Thomas James Smith, which can never be paid. Although our people will never again permit the lawlessness which existed prior to his coming to the town, yet it will be a long time before his equal will be found in all the essentials required to make a model police officer. Sacred be the memory of our departed friend and green be the turf that grows upon his grave. In years to come there will be those who will look back to the days when it required brave hearts and strong hands to put down barbarism in this new country and among the names of the bravest and truest none will be more gratefully remembered than that of Thomas James Smith, the faithful officer and true friend of Abilene.”

"During the fight, McDonald, the officer who arrived with Smith, returned to Abilene to find help. He raised up a posse, but when they returned to the dugout, Smith was already dead, and the murderers were gone. Evidently McDonald did not receive much blame for Smith’s death, since he continued working in law enforcement in Abilene throughout 1871."

Sure do not understand that one. . . Unless Smith ordered him to leave. Several accounts use words like "fled". You can bet one thing Smith never intended to leave. Double tough and as brave as they come. Even though he was a Yankee :)

McConnell and Miles were captured and tried and given sentences of 12 and 16 years, respectively. The near decapitation of Marshal Smith in what was by all accounts a two on one situation cried out for revenge. The two were exceedingly lucky not to have been lynched even though the trial was in Manhattan, Kansas.
Let's let Ike finish it:

"According to the legends of my hometown he was
anything but dull. While he almost never carried a
pistol he...subdued the lawless by the force of his
personality and his tremendous capability as an
athlete. One blow of his fist was apparently enough
to knock out the ordinary 'tough' cowboy. He was
murdered by treachery."

http://userpages.aug.com/bdobson/bearrivcity1867.jpg

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-wyoming/Bear%20River%20city,%20Wyoming.jpg

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Abilene%20Kansas%20Postcard.jpg

http://www.jcs-group.com/oldwest/ahpeople/kansas1.jpg

[Gibson]

~4000 hits in 20 days. Not bad for a thread on gunman. Well, lawmen, outlaws, cowpunchers, gamblers, and such.

Check in if you want me to keep plugging away. I will be glad to accommodate.

I would have thought that the Dallas Stoudenmire sketch would have stirred some comments. The man lived a life most of us have been told was a myth. . .

[jmort]

Great stuff. Thomas J. Smith, an American Hero. Back in the day, a trained fighter was a rare thing. Big advantage over most any "tough guy" cowboy. Seems he was born to fight/punch. Thanks for the hard work.

[fcvan]

Just a guess, but pugilism was likely learned during his time in NY as a cop. Cops who could box was a must when dealing with British and Irish immigrants. I had a partner who was a Bobby in London in the 60s. He said only special constables had guns and so they relied on their fists. He moved to Canada and worked corrections there where boxing skills were the only tools they had. He emigrated to the US, joined the Army and became a citizen, later working corrections in Calif.

One night, his partner was head-butted and knocked out. Brian threw two punches, two knockouts. Brian was 5'10" maybe 175 lbs, these two crips were both over 6' and 240 lbs plus. He cuffed them both and then revived his partner. I asked him about it later and he just smiled and said "like I told you mate, if you box their ears they won't bugger with you. You have to learn to box." I think Smith learned to fight out of necessity on the streets of New York just like Brian did in London.

[Gibson]

Just a guess, but pugilism was likely learned during his time in NY as a cop. Cops who could box was a must when dealing with British and Irish immigrants. I had a partner who was a Bobby in London in the 60s. He said only special constables had guns and so they relied on their fists. He moved to Canada and worked corrections there where boxing skills were the only tools they had. He emigrated to the US, joined the Army and became a citizen, later working corrections in Calif.

One night, his partner was head-butted and knocked out. Brian threw two punches, two knockouts. Brian was 5'10" maybe 175 lbs, these two crips were both over 6' and 240 lbs plus. He cuffed them both and then revived his partner. I asked him about it later and he just smiled and said "like I told you mate, if you box their ears they won't bugger with you. You have to learn to box." I think Smith learned to fight out of necessity on the streets of New York just like Brian did in London.

Certainly is possible. The incident that caused him to leave NYC policing is intriguing. I cannot puzzle it out. Possibly he shot a kid by accident. It PROFOUNDLY affected him.

I'm with jmortimer! Tom Smith was a real hero, in many ways.

Thanks for the comments jmortimer and fcvan.

[Mike.44]

Gibson, thanks......WE WANT MORE!!!

[gunseller]

Do not forget another fist fight from the 1800s. Good old TR himself once punched out a cowboy who called him 4 eyes. TR was a college boxer.
Steve

[jmort]

^ That ties into what I was saying and I thought about TR myself. Trained fighters were few and far between out west, except Grasshopper from Kung Fu.

[Gibson]

While we are here. . . Let us stay in Abilene, Kansas for a fellow named James Butler Hickok and one of his adventures there.

Going to go out and shoot the little GP100, testing some more HEAVY loads :)

Back in an hour, hopefully.

[Gibson]

Gunfight in Abilene:

http://www.kshs.org/publicat/khq/1956/graphics/56_3_buffalo1.jpg

Fellow No.1, below (George A. Custer said of him, "Wild Bill was a strange character, add to this figure a costume blending the immaculate neatness of the dandy with the extravagant taste and style of a frontiersman, you have Wild Bill, the most famous scout on the Plains."):

http://img.kansasmemory.org/thumb500/00116513.jpg

Fellow No. 2:

http://www.wideopennovel.com/Images/The%20Characters/Phil%20Coe.jpg

The City:

http://www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/WWabeline.jpg

Overview, from the "Kansas Historical Quaterly" August 1940 (Vol. 9 No. 3) Cushman:

"This summer of 1871, true to expectations, brought to the streets of Abilene a large group of lawless people. [73] A number of special officers were appointed to assist "Wild Bill" Hickok. Among these were James Gainsford, one of the captors of Tom Smith's murderers; James McDonald, who had accompanied Smith to the cabin on his fatal mission; Thomas Carson, a nephew of Kit Carson, the famous scout; "Brocky Jack" Norton, who later served as a peace officer in Ellsworth and Newton; and Mike Williams, who was to be the victim of a tragic mistake by the guns of Marshal Hickok.

The prostitutes from the colony north of town had migrated to Texas street and vicinity. There were ordinances prohibiting their practices within the city limits, but they were ignored. Petitions signed by women and the responsible people of the city were presented to the council asking for the enforcement of the ordinances, but the council was slow to give an ear. [74] In the latter part of June a restricted zone was established on land adjoining the townsite and owned by George Fisher. Here the bawdy houses might be located where "shooting and stabbing and all-night life could be indulged in in full blast." [75]

During the summer of 1871 an undercurrent of hard feelings had developed between Marshal Hickok and some Texans encouraged by Phil Coe and Ben Thompson, proprietors of the Bull's Head saloon. This feud came to a crisis on the evening of October 5. The end of the cattle season was nearing and some Texans were celebrating their departure with a farewell spree on the streets of the city. They began their party on Texas street about sundown. They carried Jake Karatofsky to the Applejack saloon, where he was made to stand treats. This they did to other citizens they happened to find on the streets. They found "Wild Bill" in a boarding house eating his supper. He would have no part in their pranks, but he sent them to the bar of the Novelty theater where they, could get drinks at his expense.

About nine o'clock, while Hickok and his deputy, Mike Williams, were in front of the Novelty theater, a shot was heard around the corner on Cedar street. Bill hurried through the east door of the Alamo saloon and went quickly to the front, asking in a rough manner who had fired the shot. Phil Coe, at the front with pistol in hand, replied that he had shot at a dog. Without further questioning Hickok drew two revolvers and the two exchanged shots. Coe was mortally wounded while Hickok was not hit. Mike Williams, hearing the shooting, hurried around to the front of the saloon to aid the marshal. Bill, without recognizing Williams, shot him twice, and he died almost instantly. Coe lingered for several days and died in great agony. [76]

There was high feeling over the shooting from both the Texan faction and the citizens, but it gradually subsided, as the cattletrade season was about over for the year. The opponents of the cattle trade were gaining in numbers. The residential section of Abilene was being built north of the railroad tracks, away from the lawless abandon of Texas street and Fisher's addition. [17]"

[Gibson]

This event we are going to look at occurred on October 5, 1871 in Abilene Kansas. The combatants are James Butler Hickok and Phil Coe. Both rough men. Coe was a gambler not a gunman. He is alleged by many to have been a "Texas gunfighter". I see ZERO proof of that. He was partners with CHAIN LIGHTNING, though! Ben Thompson. The two men owned the Bull's Head Saloon in Abilene. "Historians believe that the men met while serving in Mexico, but that has never been confirmed. They had known one another for some time before Abilene. The saloon prospered due to the cattle drives that gave Abilene a steady stream of cowboys' passing through who were anxious to "drink and gamble."

What Coe was was an unparalleled gambling professional. Many old timers remember him as the best they had ever seen. What else he was was TOUGH. He had no compunction about jacking a jaw and did on numerous occasions. And finally, although not a gunman per se, he carried and was not afraid to use, a sixgun. We can also accept the fact that he, as almost all gamblers did, carried a derringer.

Coe had a kind of natural animosity toward J.B. Hickok as did Hickok toward him. In a sense they were business competitors. As was common with most cowtown lawmen, Hickok had interests in the saloon businesses of Abilene but not Coe's. Coe was a tried and true Texan and both hung out with his brethren and encouraged their patronage.

Our issue goes deeper. It seems apparent that Thompson did not have any real problem with Hickok as his issues were only in the sense mentioned above, to wit, business. Coe and Hickok had a hatred over a woman. An unnamed, that I can find, prostitute. It was just a matter of time until a showdown. It strikes me that the mutual animosity was naturally coming to a head and when combined with the fact that Thompson had been injured in a fall from a horse and had left the area to convalesce; you have a rather convenient time for this gunfight from Wild Bill's perspective.

J.B. Hickok was a lot of things but certainly one of them was a gunman. A real honest to goodness gunfighter. Not a tough guy with his fists as Bear River Tom Smith, the prior Abilene lawman had been. But Wild Bill was tough with a gun in his hand and absolutely not afraid. His reputation was already made by 1871 and debunkers aside, he was a killer of men. Period. Those Colt's Navy .36s were his weapons of choice and his blatant wearing of the pair was well noted by the citizens of Abilene. Many of which did NOT like the fact that their lawman was a gunman. Many still railed that Bear River Tom (a truly TOUGH individual) was the proper style of lawman. But he had been murdered. . .

"J. G. McCoy recommended the employment of J. B. "Wild Bill" Hickok, and on April 15, 1871, he was unanimously chosen marshal [61] at a salary of $150 a month plus twenty-five percent of all fines in arrests made by him." So for the majority of the spring and the entire summer Hickok is Marshal of Abilene. Our event occurs in the fall, after the cattle herds are mostly finished for the season and the Texas cowboys of the last drives are winding down for the ride home.

Here is the situation on the night in question. The Texans are on a "spree" (this term meant rowdy, very rowdy or hoo-rah-ing) the town. It seems that they were hitting every bar and letting her rip one last time before the long ride back to Texas. Understandable. They would go into the streets and grab someone, hoist them upon their shoulders and carry them into the closest saloon and make them buy a round for everyone. This sounds obnoxious and it is BUT it seems that they had even grabbed Wild Bill up and hoisted him into a bar to buy a round, some say. More likely he sent them to a bar where he was connected and made sure they all got a free drink. He took it reasonably well and complied but then stopped before leaving and cautioned them all to tone it down a bit and that no one should be bearing arms in town as a city ordinance forbade it. It continues.

At 9 pm on a rainy and dark night the revelers are getting a bit moody. This is when Phil Coe who is out in the street fires his revolver. It is really unclear to me if he fired at "a vicious dog" or if he was just trying to stir the boys back up and fired into the air OR if he had another purpose. Who knows? Wild Bill was seated in the Alamo Saloon when he heard the revolver bark. He got up and made his way to the street or sidewalk where he inquired as to who was shooting. Phil Coe standing 8 feet from Hickok and holding a revolver,, admitted it was him and said that he was shooting at a dog who growled at him. Wild Bill demanded the gun be turned over to him, Coe jerked up his weapon and snapped off two rounds and Hickok did the same. Hickok's rounds both hit their mark, the gut of Coe. Of Coe's shots, the first tore through the side of Wild Bil's jacket and the second flew right between his legs. So in a pitch black rainstorm, just as all this is happening a special deputy, Mike Williams run into the fray and is shot twice by Hickok and also killed. Hickok was devastated. I still cannot figure out what he thought he was doing because their was a gunfight going on AND it appears that a few of the cowboys took the opportunity to let go with a couple of rounds, injuring at least one bystander, this one in particular was a Texan and was hit in the arm. Coe did linger on a few days but it was clear his wounds were mortal from the outset.

The crowd was shaken after the firing stopped. Hickok upon seeing that he had killed his good friend, Mike Williams was really upset. He turned to the crowd and with guns pointed asked if anyone wanted the other "pills". The he broke things up as the crowd was already dispersing. . .

A very sad codicil (quoted from Marshall Trimble of TRUEWEST Magazine):

"Mike Williams was a former bartender from Kansas City who went to Abilene to earn some extra money. He was working as a special deputy marshal to Wild Bill Hickok—primarily overseeing the jail.

On the night of October 5, 1871, he rushed to Hickok’s aid when the lawman got into a fracas with gambler Phil Coe. The marshal fatally shot Coe and then accidentally killed Williams as the deputy ran to the scene.

Williams was due to return to KC later that night, but instead was shipped home to his wife in a box. Hickok paid for the funeral and visited his widow to explain what had occurred that fateful night."

Abilene Chronicle Story from October 12, 1871:

"On last Thursday evening a number of men got on a "spree," and compelled several citizens and others to "stand treat," catching them on the street and carrying them upon their shoulders into the saloons. The crowd served the marshal, commonly called "Wild Bill," in this manner. He treated, but told them that they must keep within the bounds of order or he would stop them. They kept on, until finally one of the crowd, named Phil. Coe, fired a revolver. The marshal heard the report and knew at once that the leading spirits in the crowd, numbering probably fifty men, intended to get up a "fight." He immediately started to quell the affair and when he reached the Alamo saloon, in front of which the crowd had gathered, he was confronted by Coe, who said that he had fired the shot at a dog. Coe had his revolver in his hand, as had also other parties in the crowd. As quick as thought the marshal drew two revolvers and both men fired almost simultaneously. Several shots were fired, during which Mike Williams, a policeman, came around the corner for the purpose of assisting the marshal, and rushing between him and Coe received two of the shots intended for Coe. The whole affair was the work of an instant.

The marshal, surrounded by the crowd, and standing in the light, did not recognize Williams, whose death he deeply regrets. Coe was shot through the stomach, the ball coming out through his back; he lived in great agony until Sunday evening; he was a gambler, but a man of natural good impulses in his better moments. It is said that he had a spite at "Wild Bill" and had threatened to kill him-which Bill believed he would do if he gave him the opportunity. One of Coe's shots went through Bill's coat and another passed between his legs striking the floor behind him. The fact is "Wild Bill's" escape was truly marvelous. The two men were not over eight feet apart, and both of them large, stout men. One or two others in the crowd were hit, but none seriously.

We had hoped that the season would pass without any row. The marshal has, with his assistants, maintained quietness and good order-and this in face of the fact that at one time during the season there was a larger number of cut-throats and desperadoes in Abilene than in any other town of its size on the continent. Most of them were from Kansas City, St. Louis, New Orleans, Chicago, and from the mountains.

We hope no further disturbances will take place. There is no use in trying to override "Wild Bill," the marshal. His arrangements for policing the city are complete, and attempts to kill police officers or in any way create disturbance, must result in loss of life on the part of violators of the law. We hope that all, strangers as well as citizens, will aid by word and deed in maintaining peace and quietness."

http://www.visitoregontrail.org/wagon6.jpg

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Abilene%20Kansas%20Postcard.jpg

Abilene:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Abilene1875.jpg

http://img.kansasmemory.org/thumb500/d00012359.jpg

[Gibson]

'Thar' ya go! Another tale of the old-timers

[9.3X62AL]

Very fine material, sir. I'm enjoying this very much.

[Gibson]

Very fine material, sir. I'm enjoying this very much.

A fellow has pointed out to me the somewhat striking similarities of this incident to an early episode of "Gunsmoke", season 2 episode 4. "The Round Up"

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0594512/

I suppose it's quite possible that it was semi based upon this real incident.

BTW: It's a good episode. Dillon shows a different side.

Obliged to you for reading, 9.3X62AL. Thanks.

[gunseller]

Ruff and tumble time they were. And speaking of Gun Smoke did you know the James Arnes was shot in the leg durning WWII and almost lost his leg. Later in the shows run he limped some of the time.
Steve

[jmort]

As much as anyone, Wild Bill was the ethos of the Wild West. As you/they say, he was a dead shot, for sure.

[Gibson]

Next up: The day The Wild Bunch boys touched off a charge that made even me proud. :)

June 6, 1899 one of the most daring and most famous train robberies ever pulled off in the "Old West" occurred in the early morning hours, near Wilcox Station in Wyoming Territory. Stay tuned.

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/wilcoxrob.jpg

It should be stated that some historians deny Butch participated in the actual robbery but give him credit for planning the whole caper. . . whatever. We will credit the "Wild Bunch" per se.

[Gibson]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hHXK2t50S-8

[Gibson]

Wyomingtalesandtrails.com:

At 1:00 a.m. June 2, 1899, a trestle across the Union Pacific near Wilcox, Wyoming, about six miles west of Old Rock Creek Station, was barricaded, forcing the Overland Flyer to a halt. Men, wearing masks made from white napkins possibly stolen from a Harvey House Restaurant, boarded the train. One of the men, after attempting to force the engineer to pull the train forward, himself pulled the train forward. The trestle was then dyamited so as to prevent the second section of the train from catching up. Additionally, two cars were separated from the train. The train was then pulled forward for about two miles and stopped. There the express car was surrounded. and the attendant by the name of E. C. Woodcock was ordered by the gang to open the door. When he refused, the car was blown up. Woodcock, from the concussion received in the explosion, was unable to remember the combination to the safe. Whereupon, the safe was blown up and robbed of $30,000. Some of the bank notes were scorched by the explosion or stained with raspberries also in the car.

Notwithstanding that the men were masked, immediate suspicion fell on the Wild Bunch led by Butch Cassidy. As reported by the Sun-Leader on June 3:

There are some who claim that the robbery was the work of the Hole-in-the-Wall gang, and that "Butch" Cassidy and this gang are the guilty ones. Some of the gang are said to have been returning from the south where they wintered, and this was the spring opening."

Remains of the express car safe.

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/wilcoxsafe.jpg

Other newspapers identified the culprits as the Roberts brothers. Thus, on June 8 the Wyoming Derrick reported the robbers to be George Curry and the Roberts brothers. This information was repeated several days later by the Sun-Leader. It is now believed that the name "Roberts" was a nom de guerre used by Sundance and Harvey Logan. At least some of the robbers were believed to be heading for Hole-in-the-Wall Country. Posses gave chase. Near Teapot Creek some of the culprits were cornered by a posse led by Converse County Sheriff Joe Hazen. In the ensuing fire fight, Sheriff Hazen was killed
and the train robbers made their escape by swimming across the river.

Several of the robbers were also suspected as those that robbed Daniel B. Budd's general store and the post office in Big Piney. A description was given of the Big Piney robbers:

One is about five feet nine or ten inches in height; about 26 years old, light complexion, inclined to be florid; light hair and eyes; Weight about 160 pounds; had a nickel-plated revolver with bone or pear handle. Another of the men is about five foot six inches tall; dark complexion; dark or black mustache; dark eyes. Robber No. 2 is about five feet eight inches tall.

In addition to $200.00 cash, they took from the store skogy boots, cowboy spurs and overalls, blue flannel shirts, camel's hair underwear, brown gauntlet goves, pocket knivies, a Meanea bridle, with chain and bit.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So what do we make of this account versus this account?

Donna B. Ernst, noted western history writer:

"While Butch Cassidy (real name Robert LeRoy Parker) has often been credited as the mastermind, he probably took no part in the actual robbery. On January 19, 1896, he had been granted a pardon by then Wyoming Governor William A. Richards and was released from the penitentiary at Laramie. The condition for Butch's early release was his promise to never again participate in any crimes within the borders of Wyoming.

Soon after the Wilcox robbery, Butch ran into William L. Simpson, his one-time neighbor and the lawyer who had orchestrated his pardon. Simpson accused Butch of going back on his word, but Butch assured him that he had 'nothing whatever to do with the Wilcox robbery.' Still, Butch did apparently receive a share of the loot, and the posses following the outlaws' trail noticed that an extra set of tracks had joined the escaping outlaws. It was believed they belonged to the gang's leader, Butch Cassidy."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Share of the loot and mastermind but did not participate. Yeah, okay. Well, I have news here. Despite what you have seen. Harvey "Kid Curry" Logan never took an order from a man in his life and I'd be real surprised if "Flat-Nose George" Currie did (no relationship whatsoever to the Kid, Logan just stole his last name, not really.) :)

The book "Recollection of a Western Ranchman" written by WS Ranch manager William French, places Butch at the ranch over the entire summer and fall of 1899. But June 3, is a spring day. He was well served with "Wild Bunch" members but was overall a forthright man. Tough to say. But know this. If Cassidy got money, he participated in it in some active manner. Also, I guarantee those men did not need him to tell them every move to make. I say 50/50 chance he participated. We'll just not try to names the six robbers, definitively.

Tomorrow, more pictures and my story of the robbery. Indeed, a daring train robbery.

Contemporary (~1899) view of Alma, NM Territory, locale of the WS Ranch where it's celebrity cast of Wild Bunch members, 'cowboyed' for long stretches between robberies.

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/Alma.jpg

[Gibson]

WS Ranch Cowboys in front of their bunkhouse, 1882:

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/May-2012/may12_outlaw_cowboys_nm-slideshow/ws_ranch_cowboys_porch.jpg

LOOK AT THE PET BEAR!

At 2:18 am, during a heavy rain the Union Pacific Overland Flyer No. 1, was flagged down by two men with a red lantern. It was early Friday morning, June 2, 1899. It was a two section section train and this was section one. Engineer Bill Jones, thinking that it was possible that a bridge ahead was out, brought the iron house to a screeching halt. He has just at the No. 609 marker very near to Wilcox Station. Hell in the form of handkerchief laden bandits was quickly upon him.

The outlaw swung aboard the locomotive and immediately began giving orders. In an instant Jones and his fireman, Dietrick, ascertained that these were desperate men and NOT to be trifled with. Astute observation.

Storey, the train's conductor, immediately saw that the men were armed, bailed, and ran back for the westbound No. 2 section that was just a bit behind to give the alert as to a robbery.

The robbers, holding .45 Colt's revolvers and wearing their shoulder length 'kerchief masks, barking orders had indeed struck a bit of fear in the engineer and fireman. They were instructed, no, ordered to pull the train section across the small bridge just in front of them. These yahoos had already set the bridge and just as the train cleared it, the end of the world came for that small passageway, BOOM! (Not obliterated but no longer a "bridge".) Plan working to perfection.

Engineer Jones was now ordered to uncouple the locomotive and tender, along with the baggage car, the two mail cars and the express car from the rest of the train, and proceed two miles further. [Do you guys remember the Ketchum robberies at Stein's Pass that were detailed earlier? Well, the engineer had made extreme trouble for the bandits by simply refusing the same order and instead applying the air brake.) The bandits had a simple solution for this. It came in the form of sixgun crashing onto Jones' skull. I suspect that this robber was Flatnose George Currie. He was immediately cautioned by the second gunman, "don't kill him!". . . It is an open question as to who this cautionary robber was. Was it Kid Curry? Was it Harry Longbaugh AKA Sundance Kid? Was it Robert LeRoy Parker AKA Butch Cassidy? No way to know. . . The clubbed engineer and fireman decided that discretion was indeed the better part of valor, and complied. So, minus the passengers cars, the No. 1 limped forward two miles to find four more outlaws awaiting.

Harvey "Kid Curry" Logan:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/e/eb/Harveylogan.jpg

Donna Ernst, "Wild West" magazine:

"Three of the robbers herded the trainmen over to the mail car and ordered clerks Robert Lawson and Burt Bruce to open up. When the clerks did not immediately comply, the door was blown with more dynamite.

Finding very little, the outlaws next ordered the express car messenger, Charles Woodcock, to open the door. He refused. Again the thieves put a match to a couple of sticks of dynamite and easily blew the express car open. Woodcock was badly dazed in the explosion and unable to supply the bandits with the combination to the Pacific Express Co. safe. Therefore, more dynamite was used to blow open the safe. This charge proved a bit heavy, and succeeded in not only opening the safe but also blowing out the sides and the roof of the car.

By 4:15 a.m., the six bandits had gathered unsigned bank notes, cash, 19 scarf pins, 29 gold-plated cuff button pairs and four Elgin watches. The initial estimate claimed a total of $30,000 was taken, but in 1904, then Union Pacific Superintendent W.L. Park wrote that the railroad had actually lost more than $50,000, some of it in gold. The outlaws escaped in a northerly direction, toward the Hole-in-the-Wall, a well-known outlaw enclave in the middle of Wyoming.

Once the bandits had left the scene, the trainmen limped their broken train about 12 miles into Medicine Bow, the next regular stop, where engineer Jones reported the holdup by telegram to Union Pacific officials in Omaha. Jones' telegram concluded: '….We were ordered to pull over bridge just west of Wilcox, and after we passed the bridge the explosion occurred. Can't tell how bad bridge was damaged. No one hurt except Jones; scalp wound, and cut on hand. Jones, Engineer.' A later telegram added that 'the bent of the bridge was shattered' but it was repaired enough for trains to pass."

There are conflicting reports in various newspapers and published accounts. The above seems as good as any. . .

So who were these guys?

[Gibson]

Well, here are some descriptions quoted from Ernst (gleaned from eyewitness accounts in area newspapers):

"The physical descriptions of the thieves, even though the men had been masked, further convinced the authorities that known outlaws were involved. 'One man about 31 or 32 years of age…5'9'…185… blue eyes…peculiar nose, flattened at bridge' was a definite match for 'Flatnose' George Currie. Born in Canada [Prince Edward Island] on March 20, 1871, Currie was a known rustler and thief who lived near the Hole-in-the-Wall.

'Two men looked like brothers…5'7' and 5'5'…about 28 and 30…very dark complexion…1/4 Cherokee…dark hair & eyes' could easily describe Harvey Logan, alias Kid Curry, and his brother Lonnie. Harvey and Lonnie often rode with Flatnose; in fact, Harvey had taken his alias from Currie, who was his mentor. The other outlaws involved in the holdup were believed to be Harry A. Longabaugh, alias the Sundance Kid; Ben Kilpatrick, alias the Tall Texan; and Will Carver. This trio of outlaws often rode together with the Logans and Flatnose, and all were members of Butch Cassidy's Wild Bunch."

Enter the super posse. . . A special car that contained lawmen and/or their surrogates was brought forward. The doors flew open and out proceeded a ready made posse of experts that were hot on the trail of the robbers within seven hours of the robbery. (In less than 24 hours, the posse would be 100 strong.)

The getaway was classic Wild Bunch. The men had horses secreted along their escape route and thus they acted as a relay station to supply supply fresh horseflesh. It was always TOP NOTCH horseflesh, as well. The men split the loot near Lost Cabin, Wyoming and split up. Again, a classic Wild Bunch tactic.

We will look quickly at what happened with a band of three of the robbers. MANY STATE THAT THESE THREE ROBBERS WERE HARVEY LOGAN, THE SUNDANCE KID, AND FLATNOSE GEORGE CURRIE. This is quite probable. These bold bandits rode smack though the middle of Casper, Wyoming!

They rode out on the prairie and set up camp at an abandoned cabin. CY ranch owner Al Hudspeth noted the men cooking breakfast. He rode up and asked about the horses that they had set to grazing. (Hudspeth was out looking for some strays.) Hudspeth nonchalantly ambled over and asked the man if the horses belonged to him. As the man looked up from his cooking, Al noted another fellow in the doorway of the old cabin. A terse reply came quickly, "why in the hell don't you go and see?" Hudspeth was a bit flabbergasted. He tried to explain about hunting strays but he noted a second rough looking hombre walk into the doorway with two Winchesters, he handed one to his doorway companion. The man rustling up some grub then immediately said, "Hit the road and do it damned quick". Hudspeth did just that but he made for the authorities as fast as he could. They came "a runnin'". Bad move.

Ernst:

"By June 6, a posse led by Converse County Sheriff Josiah Hazen had tracked those three outlaws to Castle Creek, a deep ravine surrounded by rocks and crevices some 75 miles from the holdup site. (In later years, this area was renamed Teapot Dome and became infamous in a scandal involving its fraudulent leasing by Secretary of the Interior Albert S. Fall.) The outlaws were well hidden, and the posse unknowingly rode right in upon them. A fierce gunfight broke out, but it quickly ended when Hazen received a mortal wound from Harvey Logan. [This was later confirmed by both Tom Horn and Charlie Siringo, Pinkerton employees. The tiger of the Wild Bunch had notched yet another lawman.]

http://www.odmp.org/media/image/officer/6276/6276.jpg

The remaining posse members were so numb with fear that the outlaws managed to sneak away, leaving the posse hiding under cover. The thieves abandoned their horses and a portion of the loot in their escape on foot. Once it became apparent that the outlaws were gone, the posse quickly transported the dying Hazen to Douglas, Wyo. The posse claimed that the outlaws had managed to ambush them in part because of a relatively new invention, smokeless gunpowder.

In his book on Powder River history, local rancher J. Elmer Brock claimed that Flatnose, Harvey and Sundance got fresh horses at the Billy Hill ranch near Kaycee, Wyo., rode through the Brock family ranch near Buffalo, and headed toward EK Mountain. He further stated that well-known lawmen Joe LeFors soon after appeared with a posse and spent the night on his family's ranch. When the possemen left, they took nearly all the family's food and blankets. Brock's closing comment was, 'Isn't it strange that as many outlaws as had been in that place that the first people to commit petty larceny should be a bunch of United States Marshals?' Brock's account is of particular interest because it provides insight into the feelings of many local ranchers. Since the rustlers and the outlaws had sided with Wyoming homesteaders against the larger ranch outfits during the recent Johnson County War, the small ranchers occasionally overlooked the outlaws' questionable behavior."

The locals indeed aided the outlaws, who eventually made good their escape, in total.

officer down website, odmp.org quote re: Hazen

"Sheriff Josiah Hazen was shot and killed while attempting to arrest a gang of train robbers, including the famous outlaw Kid Curry.

Sheriff Hazen had served with the agency for two years. He was survived by his wife and two sons and is buried in Douglas Park Cemetery, Douglas, Converse County, Wyoming.

Kid Curry was suspected of be involved with the murders of five law enforcement officers: Sheriff Josiah Hazen of the Converse County Sheriff's Department, Wyoming; Deputy Samuel Jenkins and Sheriff Jesse Tyler of the Grand County Sheriff's Department, Utah; and Patrolman Robert Saylor and Patrolman William Dinwiddie of the Knoxville Police Department, Tennessee.

Kid Curry was arrested after the murders of Patrolman Saylor and Patrolman Dinwiddie. He was convicted of the murders but escaped from the local jail before being transferred to a federal prison."

^That officer down blurb contains bogus assertions. "Kid Curry" was not convicted of murdering either Saylor or Dinwiddie. He was convicted of passing forged bank notes/train robbery. Those two officers tried to beat him to death with billy clubs. Wrong guy, wrong tactics.

[Gibson]

Addenda on the pet, compilation of my responses at another site:

The image is from 1882 as best I can trace it. One caption says "note the pet BEAR on the right". :mrgreen:

From the interweb:

"W.S. Ranch cowboys on the porch of their bunkhouse in 1882— note the pet bear at right. James Cook (on next slide) was the foreman of the W.S. Ranch, headquartered near Alma. William French, who took over management after Cook left in 1887, claimed that Butch Cassidy hid out from the law by cowboying at the W.S. in 1897. The outlaw was joined by the Sundance Kid, Harvey Logan, Ben Kilpatrick and other pals who he put on the ranch’s payroll. A true multitasker, the Sundance Kid alternated between robbing trains and ranching."

And thanks much for the kind words.

Frankly, I think you've hit on something. I noted the caption but did not look closely. I guess it didn't register with me. I think I linked from truewestmagazine. The above quote was from a different site that had the image. Would make an interesting read, for me, to learn more about the pic and the cowboys and "other" sentient creatures in it.

. . . That pic makes for some interesting fodder!

So, it is said to be of working cowboys in front of their bunkhouse. . . look at the guys. Does the one standing nearest the bear have has hand on a revolver? What about the fellow at the opposite end? Is he wearing a cartridge belt and holster, slung low to his right side? The guy seated in the middle definitely has that hang-dog look. Looks ROUGH CUT.

[Gibson]

Ruff and tumble time they were. And speaking of Gun Smoke did you know the James Arnes was shot in the leg durning WWII and almost lost his leg. Later in the shows run he limped some of the time.
Steve

Arness was a hero in many ways. Helluva good man!

[Gibson]

As much as anyone, Wild Bill was the ethos of the Wild West. As you/they say, he was a dead shot, for sure.

Youbetcha! Correct, buddy!

[Bulldogger]

Gibson,
I wanted to chime in with my appreciation of these recounts. Good reading for after the kids have gone to bed and I'm trying to wind down. Of course, your stories wind me up, but in a good way.

Also, I noted above a quote about bandits stealing "skogy boots". I assume that is a type of boot, and I tried to Google it, with only odd hits, and lacking desire to comb through the entire internet..

Does anyone know what a Skogy Boot is?

Thanks, x2

Bulldogger

[Gibson]

Gibson,
I wanted to chime in with my appreciation of these recounts. Good reading for after the kids have gone to bed and I'm trying to wind down. Of course, your stories wind me up, but in a good way.

Also, I noted above a quote about bandits stealing "skogy boots". I assume that is a type of boot, and I tried to Google it, with only odd hits, and lacking desire to comb through the entire internet..

Does anyone know what a Skogy Boot is?

Thanks, x2

Bulldogger

Thank you, Bulldogger!

I do not know, either. Maybe someone will have an answer, I hope.

On a positive note, got an early Christmas present, a pair of Tony Lama boots, Bay Apache 12 EE. I'm happy :)

On another note, here's a quick tribute I cobbled up from elsewhere:

"Hey guys, here's a tribute to all the old timers. This 1926 photo/image/pic says more without saying a damned word about the old-time cowboy. God love 'em. Further from civilization and closer to God.

http://content.artofmanliness.com/uploads//2012/03/cow10.jpg

1887 wolf ropin':

http://www.rachelhulin.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/Roping-gray-wolf-Cowboys-take-in-a-gray-wolf-on-Round-up-in-Wyoming-Five-cowboys-on-horses-roping-a-wolf.-1887-520x366.jpg

1888 The Real Deal. Note the undershot heels on the boots. They tell us these did not exist then and are modern conventions. Ah-huh. Sure. Note the sidearm. But working cowboys NEVER actually wore sidearms they were stored in the chuck-wagon, and only a few even owned one. Ah-huh. Sure. The picture is posed and those guns are props. Yeah, okay, sure, pal.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/73/The_Cow_Boy_1888.jpg

Doesn't the guy look born-again hard? Rugged looking guy.

1887 Round-up:

http://www.old-picture.com/old-west/pictures/Roundup-Scene.jpg


Ah, just paint old Jay-Bird as an anachronism because, MY HEROES HAVE ALWAYS BEEN COWBOYS"

[Gibson]

Sorry, a few more of the old time images:

1880s inbound from a hunt antelope in tow:

http://rmparchive.com/images/hosting/600Border/LC1953-600Border.jpg

http://worldonline.media.clients.ellingtoncms.com/img/croppedphotos/2011/07/04/cowboyD00012331_t640.jpg?a6ea3ebd4438a44b86d2e9c39 ecf7613005fe067

“The typical cowboy … is a bad man to handle. Armed to the teeth, well mounted, and full of their favorite beverage, the cowboys will dash through the principal streets of a town, yelling. … This they call ‘cleaning out a town.’”

— Kansas newspaper, 1882

http://www.truewestmagazine.com/jcontent/images/stories/May-2012/may12_outlaw_cowboys_nm-slideshow/cattle_queen.jpg

If you look real close you can see "Miss Kitty" and Sam to the far left :) (Exterior of The famous Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kansas)

http://www.skyways.org/orgs/fordco/graphics/frontst1874.jpg

Here's a good one of ole Sam behind the bar; Festus is standing at the far end of the bar.
:mrgreen: (Interior of The famous Long Branch Saloon in Dodge City, Kansas)

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Long%20Branch%20Saloon%20historic.jpg

[Gibson]

Tonight:

http://www.******oftheweek.com/captaindavis.jpg


There was never a more real nor a more deadly gunfighter. Single-handedly took on 11 outlaws with Colt's revolvers (?) and a butcher's knife.

Indeed a tough, tough man. He was a South Carolinian. In peacetime, I am not completely certain but am reasonably sure that the episode is nonparallel. As game as a bulldog. . .


It's a good one! This grizzled old southerner waxed 11 bad guys. As Jerry Clower would say, GRAVE-YARD-DEAD. The shootout started with the villains killing his (Daivs') partners outright then the Captain stood alone and fought like a Bengal Tiger.

[Gibson]

An overview of the terrible gunfight that went unnoticed for many years. More appropriately, it was noted at the time but then dropped without further notice. It was rediscovered via reading old newspapers. In other words, doing actual research. Something our debunking friends NEVER do. The noted old west author William B. Secrest has been credited by most as being the "re-discoverer" of Captain Davis' INCREDIBLE exploit. Here is an overview from truewestmagazine.com, written by Bob Boze Bell:

"December 19, 1854

Three American prospectors are traversing a miner’s trail in California’s Sierra Nevadas. As Captain Jonathan Davis, James McDonald and Dr. Bolivar Sparks walk up the trail, they are ambushed by a large gang of bandits (two Americans, one Frenchman, two Britons, five Sydney Ducks and four Mexicans). The gang has been on a two-day violent crime spree, killing and robbing six Chinese and four Americans.

Jumping out of the brush with pistols blazing, the outlaws cut down James McDonald, who dies without drawing his weapon. Dr. Sparks yanks his six-shooter and gets off two shots before he is badly wounded and drops to the ground.

Captain Davis pulls two pistols and begins returning fire, dropping outlaws with almost every shot. Several outlaw balls rip through the captain’s clothing (a friend later counts six bullet holes in Davis’ hat). Despite his two slight flesh wounds, Capt. Davis stands his ground, emptying both pistols with deadly accuracy. Seven of his attackers lay writhing and dying in front of him on the rocky terrain.

Four more robbers—all armed with Bowie knives, and one with a short sword—warily advance on the captain to finish him off. Davis pulls his Bowie knife and engages the two leaders, stabbing one to death and knocking the knife out of the other’s grasp, a maneuver that slices off the leader’s nose and the finger on his right hand.

The last two attackers fare no better, as Capt. Davis dispatches them both with ease (they are weakened by their wounds from previous raids).

As the gunpowder and dust clears, one lone fighter has bested nearly a dozen of the worst “lawless ruffians” California has to offer, with eight of the would-be robbers dead and three desperately wounded (all three will die from their wounds). The three remaining outlaws flee for their lives.

Ignoring his own wounds, Capt. Davis removes his shirt and tears it in strips to take care of Dr. Sparks.

As three more armed men come up the trail, Davis leaps to James McDonald’s body and retrieves his dead friend’s revolver, shouting, “Halt!”

To his relief, the three turn out to be members of a mining hunting party camped a mile distant, on a creek running into the North Fork of the American River. While out hunting, they saw the entire fight from a nearby hilltop."

Tough enough? :)

[Gibson]

The author of "Gold Dust and Gunsmoke", Boessenecker called it,“the single most extraordinary feat of self-defense by an American civilian in the annals of frontier history.”

Born in Monticello, South Carolina on August 5, 1816. He came from a well to do family and was Educated at The University of South Carolina. He enlisted for the Mexican War and was indeed known as a hard charger. He fought in multiple bloody battles and was quickly ranked up to second lieutenant; " he was wounded in action at Churubusco. Mustered out of the army in 1848, Davis carried the honorary title of captain and later joined the Gold Rush. In California Davis stood out among many veteran fighting men in the diggings. He was known as an expert pistol shot, and according to a friend he was '
second to none in the state as a fencer.'"

It was in the Gold fields that our story occurs. . .


The 49ers as a lot were rough cut men who knew when they left for the gold fields that they were basically on their own. They held their honor in high esteem and many became somewhat proficient with a Colt's revolver and a large knife. Where there is gold and men trying to mine it there are bandits. In this case, bandits of the absolute lowest character. Vile beasts. The brigands that attacked Captain Davis and his two southern friends, James McDonald and Dr. Bolivar Sparks, were typical. The group was comprised of Aussies, Mexicans, Americans, Britons, and even a Frenchman. The had robbed and murdered six Chinamen some days prior. They were murderous butchers and had no intention of leaving witnesses. On a scraggy December day in 1854 they would try this on the wrong man.

The Cap and his two friends were on their way to an area where a gold laden quart deposit lay. There were near Rocky Canyon a desolate and uninhabited area. As the three partners traversed the trail, 14, yes, fourteen banditti. These rapscallions descended upon the Captain and his friends like vipers! Dr. Sparks never cleared leather and was instantly shot dead. James McDonald was hit twice but did manage to fire two rounds before he fell. Now hell is unleashed! In the form of a grizzled old veteran from the Mexican War. He pulls two Colt's sixshooters and unloads them with DEVASTATING effect. This man who was closing in on 40 years old must have possessed the reflexes of a tiger. He fired between 10-12 rounds, killing seven outlaws outright. He took two slugs himself and get this! Was shot six times through his hat. Man it gets my blood boiling just picturing the scene! Apparently of the outlaws that were still alive, three immediately decided that discretion was the better part of valor and the ran for "the Grampian Hills" this left four and the Cap now went hand to hand with four living vermin. He yanked out his butcher's knife and was ready to roll. Now picture this, here is this guy that has just killed seven of their partners with sixguns alone. These four possessed of stupidity, three big knives, and a short sword, charge Davis. Their final mistake. Davis cuts them to shreds. He hacks and gashes three to death, outright, and the fourth, the leader gets his nose cut completely off and several fingers severed. Game, set, match.

The Captain now, yanks his shirt off and commences tearing it in strips to cover McDonald's wounds.

In the distance, he spies three men running toward him. He jumps up to meet them and yells, "HALT!" The men immediately inform him that they are fellow miners who observed the battle from a hilltop about a mile off.

McDonald was to die shortly and the nose-less bandit also died of his wounds. Total dead: 13. Total killed by the Cap: 11.

Here is how it was reported in contemporary account:

"Sparks Mississippi and fell mortally wounded Captain Jonathan R Davis of South Carolina then drew his revolvers and commenced shooting at the enemy every ball forcing its victim to bite the dust He was easily distinguished from the rest by liis white hat and from his being above the medium height The robbers then made a charge upon him with their knives and one sabre Captain Davis stood his ground firmly until they rushed up abreast within four feet of him He then made a spring upon them with a large Bowie knife and gave three of them wounds which proved fatal Afterward he killed all the rest and then tore up his shirt to bind the wounds of the survivors The party of spectators then came down It seems they had been prevented joining in the fight from a sense of etiquette as the letter of one party expresses it Being satisfied that they were all strangers we hesitated a moment before we ventured to go down When they got down they found eleven men stretched on the ground with some others in a hopeless condition They then formed a coroner's jury and held an inquest over twelve dead bodies Captain Davis was the only living person left in the Rocky Canon One letter says Although we counted twenty eight bullet holes through Captain Davis hat and clothes seventeen through his hat and eleven through his coat and shirt he received but two very slight flesh wounds."

And finally this from jcs-group.com:

" The noseless survivor confessed that the band had but recently joined together and had slain the two parties of Chinese and Americans. Someone examined Captain Davis's hat and found that at least six balls had passed through it. In the morning McDonald and the ten dead robbers were buried. The surviving bandit's wounds proved to be more serious than had been thought, and he died that day and was buried with the rest. John Webster and the other miners formed a coroner's jury and prepared a long statement setting forth the facts of the affair. They concluded, "From all the evidence before us, Captain Davis and his party acted solely in self-defence-were perfectly justifiable in killing these robbers - and that too much praise cannot be bestowed upon them for having so gallantly stopped the wild career of these lawless ruffians."

Seventeen of them signed the report, which was delivered to Placerville by one of their number, John E. Lyles. At the same time, John Webster wrote a long letter to a friend in Placerville offering his firsthand account ot the desperate battle in Rocky Canyon. The wounded Dr. Sparks was carried down the mountains to his home near Coloma by Captain Davis; unfortunately, the good doctor died there on December 26.

The coroner's report and the letter from John Webster created a sensation in Placerville. The Placerville Mountain Democrat ran an extra edition on December 23, publishing both accounts in full. The issue was reprinted by the San Francisco and Sacramento newspapers, and eventually by major newspapers in other parts of the country. So incredible was the story that many doubted it. The editor of the Mountain Democrat had reservations at first, commenting that the story might be "slightly, very slightly, exaggerated, but not impossible." The editor of the Sacramento Union was more blunt, suggesting that the story might be "bogus" and that the published accounts "savor strongly of Munchhausenism." The San Francisco California Chronicle countered with, "The story, though it might be considered certainly fabulous in any other country, is quite in character with things that often take place in California." The Mountain Democrat's, editor quickly pointed out that the seventeen miners who had signed the inquest report included "some of the most respectable men in our county." Of Captain Davis he wrote that "gentlemen in this city who have known him long and well place the most implicit confidence in his integrity."

Captain Davis was stung by the skepticism, which was a stain on his honor and credibility. The day after his friend Dr. Sparks died he came into Placerville and paid a visit to the editor of the Mountain Democrat and confirmed that the reports published in that newspaper were true. The next day the editor received and published a letter from John E. Lyles, who had not signed the original inquest report. Lyles also verified the story and provided additional details. Still there were skeptics and a rankled Captain Davis made a public offer in the columns of the Mountain Democrat to take any doubters to Rocky Canyon and show them the graves. No one took him up on his offer. On January 6 the paper published a letter from the captain, clearing up a few minor points and reaffirming the story. Davis concluded modestly, "I did only what hundreds of others might have done under similar circumstances, and attach no particular credit to myself for it."

The fact that his two friends died in a bandit raid that many believed never occurred continued to grate heavily on Captain Davis. The three miners who had witnessed the fight, John Webster, Isaac Hart, and P.S. Robertson, had moved to new diggings twenty miles farther up the mountains. They had no contact with outsiders until they were visited by a Mr. Williams, a brother-in-law of Dr. Sparks, who had searched for them for several weeks before finding their camp. Williams, who wanted to confirm the details of Dr. Sparks's death, told the three for the first time that their account had been discredited. As they related it, "Mr. Williams . . . told us that it was our duty to appear before the people at once, and verify our statement."

On March 20, 1855, three months after the battle, Captain Davis, Williams, and the three eyewitnesses appeared in the office of the Mountain Democrat. Before Judge R.M. Anderson and a delegation of prominent citizens they recounted the battle in detail. After careful questioning of Webster, Hart, and Robertson by Judge Anderson, those present were soon convinced that the fight had taken place exactly as described. The three young miners presented letters of introduction and also gave a written statement about the battle. Their testimony in a semiformal setting seems to have settled all doubts in the public mind. "

Go here and read this: http://query.nytimes.com/mem/archive-free/pdf?res=F70717F6345A167493C4AB178AD85F418584F9

It is from the New York Times and it is contemporary. I have searched the California newspaper online database but haven't turned up the original date papers. But both of the original contemporary stories were picked in dispatches and printed in the NYT.

Worth a read.

[Gibson]

Sorry about format, here.

From the April 1855 issue of THE KNICKERBOCKER comes this ballad of Davis:

"All the heroes that ever were born Native or foreign bearded or shorn From tho days of Homer to Omar Pasha Who mauled and maltreated tho troops of the Czar And drove the rowdy Muscovite back Fin and Livonian Pole and Cossack From gray Ladoga to green Ukraine And other parts of the Russian domain With an intimation exceedingly plain That they d better cut and not come again All the heroes of olden time Who have jingled alike in armor and rhyme Hercules Hector Quintus Curtius Pompey and Pegasus riding Perseus Bravo Bayard and the brave Roland Meu who never a fight turned backs on Charles the Swede and the Spartan band Coriolanus and General Jackson Richard the Third and Marcus Brutus And others whose names won t rhyme to suit us Must certainly sink in tho dim profound When Captain Davis story gets round Know ye tho land where tho sinking sun Sees the last of earth when the day is done Whero the course of empire is sure to stop And tho play conclude with the fifth act drop Where wonderful spectacle I hand in hand The oldest and youngest nations stand Whero yellow Asia Withered and dry Hears Young America sharp and spry With thumb in his vest and a quizzical leer Sing out Old Fogie como over hero Know ye tho land of mines and vines Of monstrous turnips and giant pines Of monstrous profits and quick declines And IIowland and Aspinwall's steam shin lines Know ye the land so wondrous fair Fame has blown on his golden bugle From Battery placo to Union square Over tho Park and down McDougal Hither and thither and everywhere In every city its name is known There is not a grizzly Wall street bear That docs not shrink when the blast is blown There Dives sits on a golden throue With Lazarus holding his shield before Charged with a heart of auriferous stone And a pick axe and spade on a Geld of or Know ye the land that looks on Ind There only you 11 see a pacific sailor Its song lias been sung by Jenny Lixn And the words were furnished by Bayard Taylor Seaward stretches a valley there Seldom frequented by men or women Its rocks arc hung with the prickly pear And the golden balls of the wild persimmon Ilaunts congenial to wolf and bear Covered with thickets are everywhere There s nothing at all in the place to attract us Except some grotesque kinds of cactus Glittering beetles with golden wings Royal lizards with golden rings And a gorgeous species of poisonous snake That lets you know when he means to battle By giving his tail a rousing shake To which is attached a inullled rattle Captain Davis Jonathan R With James McDonald of Alabama And Dr Bolivar Sparks were thar Cracking the rocks with a miner's hammer Of the valley they d heard reports That plenty of gold was there in quartz Gold in quartz they marked not there But p ints enough on the prickly J ear As they very soon found When they sat on the ground To scrapo the blood from their cuts and scratches For a rickety cactus had stripped them bare And cobbled their hides with crimson patches Thousands of miles they are from home Hundreds from San Francisco city Little they think that near tliem roam A baker's dozen of wild banditti Fellows who prowl like stealthy cats In velvet jackets and sugar loaf hats Covered all over with trinkets and crimes Watches and crosses pistols and feathers Squeezing virgins and wives like limes And wrapping their legs in unpatented leathers Little they think how close at hand Is that cock of the walk the Bold Brigand And hero I wish to make a suggestion In regard to thoso onical sugar loaf hats I think those banditti beyond all question Some day will find out they re a parcel of flats For if that stylo is with them a passion And they stick to those hats in spite of the fashion Some Tuscan Leary Gexix or Knox Will get those brigands in a bad box For the Chief of Police will send a Star To keep a look out near the hat bazar And wiien Fra Diavolo comes to buy The peculiar mode that suits his whim He may find out if the Star is spry That instead of the hat they ve ironed him Captain Davis and James McDonald And Doctor Sparks together stand Suddenly like the fierce Clan Ronald Bursts from the thicket tbe Bold Brigand Sudden and never a word spoke they But pulled their triggers and blazed away Music says Halleck is everywhere Harmony guides the whole creation But when a bullet sings in the air So close to your hat that it moves your hair To enjoy it requires a taste quito rare With a certain amount of cultivation But never music homely or grand Grisi's Norma or Gungl's band The distant sound of the watch dog's bark The cotToe miU's breakfast psalm in the cellar Home Sweet Home or the sweet Sky lark Sung by Miss Pyne in Cinderella Songs thaj remind us of days of yore Curb stone ditties we loved to hoar Brewers yeasl I and Straw oat straw Lily whUe corn a penny an ear Rustic music of chanticleer Robert the Devil by Meyerbeer Played at the Park when tho Woods were here Or any thing else that an echo brings From those mysterious vibrant strings That answer at once like a telegraph line To notes that were written in Old Lang Syne Nothing I Bay ever played or sung Organ panted or bugle rung Not even tho horn on tho Switzer Alp Was half so sweet to the Captain's ear As the sound of the bullet that split his scalp And told him a scrimmage was awful near Come 0 Danger in any form Tho earthquake's shock or tho ocean storm Come when its century's weight of snow The avalanche hurls on tho Swiss chateau Come with the murdorous Hindoo Thug Come with the Grizzly's fearful hug With tho Malay's stab or the adder's fang Or tho deadly flight of the boomerang But never come when carbines bang That are fired by men who must tight or hang On they came with a tfcinderous shout That made the rocky canon ring Canon in Spanish means tube or spout Gorge or hollow or somo such thing On they come with a thunderous noiso Captain Davis said calmly Boys I ve been a waiting to see them chaps And with that he examined his pistol caps Then a long deep breath he drew Put in his cheek a tremendous chow Stripped off his waist coat and coat and threw Them down and was ready to die or do. Had I Bryan’s belligerent skill,
Wouldn’t I make this a bloody fight?
Or Alfred Tennyson’s crimson quill,
What thundering, blundering lines I’d write!
I’d batter, and hack, and cut, and stab,
And gouge, and throttle, and curse, and jab;
I’d wade to my ears in oaths and slaughter,
Pour out blood like brandy and water;
Hit ’em again if they asked for quarter,
And clinch, and wrestle, and yell, and bite.
But I never could wield a carnivorous pen
Like either of these intellectual men;
I love a peaceful, pastoral scene,
With drowsy mountains, and meadows green,
Covered with daisies, grass, and clover,
Mottled with Dorset or South-down sheep --
Better, than fields with a red turf over,
And men piled up in a Waterloo heap.
But, notwithstanding, my fate cries out:
“Put Captain Davis in song and story!
That children hereafter may read about
His deeds in the Rocky-Cañon foray!”


James McDonald, of Alabama
Fell at the feet of Doctor Sparks;
“Doctor,” said he, “I’m as dead as a hammer,
And you have a couple of bullet marks.
This,” he said, “is the end of life.”
“Yes,” said Sparks, “’t is a mighty solver;
Excuse me a moment — just hold my knife,
And I’ll hit that brigand with my Colt’s revolver.”


Then through the valley the contest rang,
Pistols rattle and carbines bang;
276 Horrible, terrible, frightful, dire
Flashed from the vapor the foot-pad’s fire,
Frequent, as when in a sultry night
Twinkles a meadow with insect-light;
But deadlier far as the Doctor found,
When, crack! a ball through his frontal bone
Laid him flat on his back on the hard-fought ground,
And left Captain Davis to go it alone!


Oh! that Roger Bacon had died!
Or Schwartz, the monk, or whoever first tried
Cold iron to choke with a mortal load,
To see if saltpetre wouldn’t explode.
For now, when you get up a scrimmage in rhyme,
The use of gunpowder so shortens the time,
That just as your Iliad should have begun,
Your epic gets smashed with a Paixhan gun;
And the hero for whom you are tuning the string
Is dead before ‘arms and the man’ you sing;
To say nothing of how it will jar and shock
Your verses with hammer, and rammer, and stock,
Bullet and wad, trigger and lock,
Nipple and cap, and pan and cock;
But wouldn’t I like to spread a few pages
All over with arms of the middle ages?
Wouldn’t I like to expatiate
On Captain Davis in chain or plate? --
Spur to heel, and plume to crest,
Visor barred, and lance in rest,
Long, cross-hilted brand to wield,
Cuirass, gauntlets, mace, and shield;
Cased in proof himself and horse,
From frontlet-spike to buckler-boss;
277 Harness glistering in the sun,
Plebeian foes, and twelve to one!
I tell you now there’s a beautiful chance
To make a hero of old romance;
But I’m painting his picture for after-time.
And don’t mean to sacrifice truth for rhyme.


Cease, Digression; the fray grows hot!
Never an instant stops the firing;
Two of the conical hats are shot,
And a velvet jacket is just expiring:
Never yields Captain Davis an inch,
For he didn’t know how, if he wished, to flinch;
Firm he stands in the Rocky Gorge,
Moved as much by those vagrom men
As an anvil that stands by a blacksmith’s forge
Is moved by the sledge-hammer’s “ten-pound-ten!”
Firm, though his shirt, with jag and rag,
Resembles an army’s storming-flag:
Firm, till sudden they give a shout,
Drop their shooters and clutch their knives;
When he said: “I reckon their powder’s out,
And I’ve got three barrels, and that’s three lives!


One! and the nearest steeple-crown
Stood aghast, as a minster spire
Stands, when the church below is on fire,
Then trembles, and totters, and tumbles down.
Don Pasquale the name he bore.
Near Lecco was reared his ancestral cot,
Close by Lago Como’s shore,
For description of which, see “Claude Melnotte.”


278 Two! and instantly drops, with a crash,
An antediluvial sort of moustache;
Such as hundreds of years had grown,
When scissors and razors were quite unknown.
He from that Tuscan city had come,
Where a tower is built all out of — plumb!
Puritani his name was hight —
A terrible fellow to pray or fight.


Three! and as if his head were cheese,
Through Castadiva a bullet cut;
Knocked a hole in his os unguis,
And bedded itself in the occiput.
Daily to mass his widow will go,
In that beautiful city a lovely moaner,
Where those supernatural sausages grow,
Which we mis-pronounce when we style “Bellona!”


As a crowd, that near a depot stands
Impatiently waiting to take the cars,
Will “clear the track” when its iron bands
The ponderous, fiery hipogriff jars,
Yet the moment it stops don’t care a pin,
But hustle and bustle and go right in;
So the half of the band that still survives,
Comes up with long moustaches and knives,
Determined to mince the Captain to chowder,
So soon as it’s known he is out of powder.


Six feet one, in trowsers and shirt,
Covered with sweat, and blood, and dirt;
279 Not very much scared (though his hat was hurt,
And as full of holes as a garden-squirt);
Awaiting the onslaught, behold him stand
With a twelve-inch “Bowie” in either hand.
His cause was right, and his arms were long,
His blades were bright, and his heart was strong;
All he asks of the trinketed clan
Is a bird’s-eye view of the foremost man;
But shoulder to shoulder they come together,
Six sugar-loaf hats and twelve legs of leather: —
Fellows whose names you can’t rehearse
Without instinctively clutching your purse:
Badiali and Bottesini,
Fierce Alboni and fat Dandini,
Old Rabini and Mantillini,
Cherubini and Paganini:
(But I had forgot the last were shot;
No matter, it don’t hurt the tale a jot.)


Onward come the terrible crew!
Waving their poignards high in air,
But little they dream that seldom grew
Of human arms so long a pair
As the Captain had hanging beside him there,
Matted, from shoulder to wrist, with hair;
Brawny, and broad, and brown, and bare.


Crack! and his blade from point to heft
Has cloven a skull, as an egg is cleft;
And round he swings those terrible flails,
Heavy and swift, as a grist-mill sails;
280 Whack! and the loftiest conical crown
Falls full length in the Rocky Valley;
Smack! and a duplicate Don goes down,
As a ten-pin falls in a bowling alley.


None remain but old Rubini,
Fierce Alboni, and fat Daldini:
Wary fellows, who take delight
In prolonging, as long as they can, a fight,
To show the science of cut and thrust,
The politest method of taking life;
As some men love, when a bird is trussed,
To exhibit their skill with a carving-knife:
But now with desperate hate and strength,
They cope with those arms of fearful length.


A scenic effect of skill and art,
A beautiful play of tierce and carte,
A fine exhibition it was, to teach
The science of keeping quite out of reach.
But they parry, and ward, and guard, and fend,
And rally, and dodge, and slash, and shout,
In hopes that from mere fatigue in the end
He either will have to give in or give out.


Never a Yankee was born or bred
Without that peculiar kink in his head
By which he could turn the smallest amount
Of whatever he had to the best account.
So while the banditti cavil and shrink,
It gives Captain Davis a chance TO THINK!
And the coupled ideas shot through his brain,
As shoots through a village an express-train;
281 And then! as swift as the lightning flight,
When the pile-driver falls from its fearful height,
He brings into play, by way of assister,
His dexter leg as a sort of ballista;
Smash! in the teeth of the nearest rogue,
He threw the whole force of his hob-nailed brogue!
And a horrible yell from the rocky chasm
Rose in the air like a border slogan,
When old Rubini lay in a spasm,
From the merciless kick of the iron brogan.


As some old Walton, with line and hook
Will stand by the side of a mountain-brook,
Intent upon taking a creel of trout,
But finds so many poking about
Under the roots, and stones, and sedges,
In the middle, and near the edges,
Eager to bite, so soon as the hackle
Drops in the stream from his slender tackle,
And finally thinks it a weary sport,
To fish where trout are so easily caught;
So Captain Davis gets tired at last
Of fighting with those that drop down so fast,
And a tussle with only a couple of men
Seems poor kind of fun, after killing-off ten;
But just for the purpose of ending the play
He puts fierce Alboni first out of the way,
And then to show Signor Dandini his skill,
He splits him right up, as you’d split up a quill;
Then drops his Bowie, and rips his shirt
To bandage the wounds of the parties hurt;
An act, as good as a moral, to teach
“That none are out of humanity’s reach,”
282 An act that might have produced good fruit,
Had the brigands survived, but they didn’t do it.


Sixteen men do depose and say,
“That in December, the twentieth day,
They were standing close by when the fight occurred,
And are ready to swear to it, word for word,
That a bloodier scrimmage they never saw;
That the bodies were sot on, accordin’ to law;
That the provocation and great excitement
Wouldn’t justify them in a bill of indictment:
But this verdict they find against Captain Davis,
That if ever a brave man lived — he brave is.”

[Poppaclutch]

55199
Spur Cemetary. Spur, Texas
55200
Spur Cemetary monument up close.
55201
Espuala Cemetary near Spur, Texas

[Gibson]

Thank you for sharing the images. And enjoy the forum.

[jmort]

Captain Jonathan Davis - A brave hero who should never be forgotten. That is one reason I study history, and really like what you are doing. Some people/events should never be forgotten. Once again we see that training, in this case fencing, makes for an uneven fight even against steep odds. Knife fighting, up close and personal and with ultimate consequences. God Bless Captain Jonathan Davis. I agree, the greatest single-handed victory I have even read about.

[Gibson]

Thank you my, friend.

We here at this thread and over at rugerforum will never forget these old timers.

God bless you all, my brothers

[9.3X62AL]

I recently finished reading a noted history of the California Gold Rush--"The Age of Gold", by H.W. Brands. The author made mention of the brigands and robbers rife during this time period, and specifically dwelt on the "Sydney Ducks" (pp.263-268) and their malevolent history in the San Francisco area. I re-visited the volume after reading the above account of the Captain's good work......and found no reference to the 1854 incident or its victims. Distressing, to see an otherwise worthy work go into detail about criminal organizations, but not make note of heroic counter-measures taken to dissuade their depredations.

[Gibson]

I recently finished reading a noted history of the California Gold Rush--"The Age of Gold", by H.W. Brands. The author made mention of the brigands and robbers rife during this time period, and specifically dwelt on the "Sydney Ducks" (pp.263-268) and their malevolent history in the San Francisco area. I re-visited the volume after reading the above account of the Captain's good work......and found no reference to the 1854 incident or its victims. Distressing, to see an otherwise worthy work go into detail about criminal organizations, but not make note of heroic counter-measures taken to dissuade their depredations.

I totally understand. It surprised me some while back.

"This gunfighters story is hard to believe, and at the time, few did, even though there were witnesses. Davis offered to take anyone up and show them the graves if they didn't believe him. The witnesses swore to the facts and signed depositions describing the fight. Major newspapers across the country printed the story. John Boesseneker tells the story in his book, Gold Dust and Gunsmoke. Boesseneker credits William B. Secrest for finding the story in the original newspapers."

Boesseneker is a first rate historian of the period.

[Gibson]

I believe one of the gun rags did an article on it Capt. Davis. Here is a short blurb by Bob Boze Bell of TrueWest Magazine from, http://twmag.com/jcontent/history/history/classic-gunfights/3848-the-gang-slayer Excellent magazine, excellent website.

"The Gang Slayer"

December 19, 1854

Three American prospectors are traversing a miner’s trail in California’s Sierra Nevadas. As Captain Jonathan Davis, James McDonald and Dr. Bolivar Sparks walk up the trail, they are ambushed by a large gang of bandits (two Americans, one Frenchman, two Britons, five Sydney Ducks and four Mexicans). The gang has been on a two-day violent crime spree, killing and robbing six Chinese and four Americans. Jumping out of the brush with pistols blazing, the outlaws cut down James McDonald, who dies without drawing his weapon. Dr. Sparks yanks his six-shooter and gets off two shots before he is badly wounded and drops to the ground.

Captain Davis pulls two pistols and begins returning fire, dropping outlaws with almost every shot. Several outlaw balls rip through the captain’s clothing (a friend later counts six bullet holes in Davis’ hat). Despite his two slight flesh wounds, Capt. Davis stands his ground, emptying both pistols with deadly accuracy. Seven of his attackers lay writhing and dying in front of him on the rocky terrain.

Four more robbers—all armed with Bowie knives, and one with a short sword—warily advance on the captain to finish him off. Davis pulls his Bowie knife and engages the two leaders, stabbing one to death and knocking the knife out of the other’s grasp, a maneuver that slices off the leader’s nose and the finger on his right hand.

The last two attackers fare no better, as Capt. Davis dispatches them both with ease (they are weakened by their wounds from previous raids).

As the gunpowder and dust clears, one lone fighter has bested nearly a dozen of the worst “lawless ruffians” California has to offer, with eight of the would-be robbers dead and three desperately wounded (all three will die from their wounds). The three remaining outlaws flee for their lives.

Ignoring his own wounds, Capt. Davis removes his shirt and tears it in strips to take care of Dr. Sparks.

As three more armed men come up the trail, Davis leaps to James McDonald’s body and retrieves his dead friend’s revolver, shouting, “Halt!”

To his relief, the three turn out to be members of a mining hunting party camped a mile distant, on a creek running into the North Fork of the American River. While out hunting, they saw the entire fight from a nearby hilltop.

Aftermath: Odds & Ends

The bodies of the dead outlaws were searched, and the miners recovered $491 in gold and silver coin, four ounces of gold dust and seven gold and two silver watches. At Capt. Jonathan Davis’ request, the bounty was given to Dr. Bolivar Sparks.

•••

Dr. Sparks was carried down the mountain, by Capt. Davis, to the doctor’s home near Coloma, where he died from his wounds on December 26.

•••

Even though the fight garnered extensive coverage in the newspapers (eventually across the country), some doubters thought it too fantastic to be true. Stung by the criticism, Capt. Davis challenged anyone to come along to Rocky Canyon, where he would show them the attackers’ graves. No one took him up on his offer.

•••

Three months after the battle, Davis and three eye-witnesses to the fight - John Webster, Isaac Hart and P.S. Robertson - appeared at the offices of the Mountain Democrat. Before Judge R. M. Anderson and a delegation of prominent citizens, the men presented written and verbal depositions of the fight to everyone's satisfaction.

•••

Even though Capt. Davis’ peers finally accepted his story, it’s hard to believe that 150-some-odd years later, hardly anyone remembers the fight. That’s a shame. The incredible gunfight was rediscovered in the 1980s by researcher and author Bill Secrest Sr. With further research by John Boessenecker, the fight has a chance of reclaiming its rightful honor, Boessenecker states, as “the single most extraordinary feat of self-defense by an American civilian in the annals of frontier history.”

http://twmag.com/jcontent/images/stories/Jan-2008/mar08_cg_thegangslayer_250.jpg

[Gibson]

VFW Magazine from January 2012:

"Mexican War Vet Wages Deadliest Gun Fight In American History
Richard Fournier

Former Army officer Jonathan Davis achieved the unbelievable—he single-handedly killed 11 outlaws with a handgun and Bowie knife in Gold Rush-era California. No other American civilian ever came even close to matching this incredible feat of arms.

On a cold December day on a mountainside in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California, Mexican War veteran Jonathan Davis faced 14 seasoned murderers. In a matter of minutes, he killed 11 of them with handgun and knife in what writer John Boessenecker called “the single most extraordinary feat of self-defense by an American civilian in the annals of the frontier.”

Including two good guys, a total of 13 men actually died in this one incredible shootout. Yet Davis cannot be found in books with titles like Written in Lead: Legendary American Gunfights and Gunfighters, Draw: The Greatest Gunfights of the American West or Deadly Dozen: Forgotten Gunfighters of the Old West.

This remarkable deed also is unequalled in the urban East and quite possibly on the battlefield using these types of weapons. To show just how phenomenal a feat of arms this really was, it’s necessary to add some perspective. This means not only comparing other civilian shootouts, but also throwing wartime firefights into the mix.

RARITY IN CONTEMPORARY COMBAT

Let’s start with the military. After 1970, even war-zone firefights (that is, using small arms only and not including mortar/ rocket attacks, booby traps or mines) involving the deaths of eight or more Americans in a single action can be counted on two hands. In 1971, the last full year of ground combat involving U.S. infantry units in Vietnam, there were only three such firefights.

On Grenada in 1983, 10 Americans were killed by enemy action in total. Neither Lebanon (1983-84) nor Panama (1989) recorded a lethal firefight of this intensity in terms of U.S. KIAs. In the 1991 Persian Gulf War, there were no small-arms actions that claimed the lives of seven Gis. An exception to the rule occurred in Somalia with 18 U.S. KIAs on Oct. 3-4, 1993, which up until the Iraq War was the deadliest single battle since Vietnam, measured by hostile American fatalities.

Even the current wars barely approach Davis’ record from small-arms combat. The deadliest single firefight in 10 years Of war in Afghanistan took nine Gis’ lives in 2008 (another claimed eight in 2009) . In Iraq, only two actions claimed 11 American lives with small arms in a single firefight other than the 17-day Battle of Fallujah in November 2004.

Keep in mind that Davis defended himself with a handgun and knife. Finding someone who did the same even in the major wars is a trick. With a rifle, Sgt. Alvin York killed nine Germans on Oct. 18, 1918, in France. Numerous machine gunners have racked up amazing body counts, but with the weapons used by Davis it is still rare indeed.

One GI who achieved the near-impossible was Pfc. John R. McKinney. On May 11, 1945, in a battle that lasted 35 minutes, he personally killed at least 40 Japanese. This all took place at Umiray Outpost on a 150-yard-long sandy beach near Dingalan Bay, Luzon, Philippines. A member of A Co., 123rd Regt., 33rd Div., McKinney was awarded the Medal of Honor. Though most of his foes fell to his machine gun, the citation also states he used a rifle, rifle butt and knife to dispatch the enemy.

During the Korean War, Pfc. Herbert K. Pililaau of C Co., 23rd Inf. Regt., 2nd Inf. Div., covered the retreat of his unit with a Browning Automatic Rifle and hand grenades until his ammunition ran Out. He then fought with an entrenching tool and bare fists until being killed. Forty enemy dead were found around his position. No doubt, other Gis in Korea, and later Vietnam, personally killed impressive numbers of the enemy.

But here again, how many were by handgun and/or edged weapon?

CIVILIAN SHOOTOUTS RACK UP BODY COUNT

Lethal civilian violence has taken a hefty toll throughout American history. Even after excluding Indian warfare (except where genuine law enforcement Was involved), race/ethnic riots, prison uprisings, multiple murders and downright executions (such as the 1929 St. Valentine’s Day Massacre in Chicago in which seven gangsters were shot in the back), there are plenty of deadly actions recorded.

Contrary to popular notions, most of the deadliest single shootouts did not occur in the “Wild West” of the post- Civil War period, or the gangster wars of Prohibition, the “Public Enemy” era of the Depression or Mafia bloodletting. Moreover, “Bleeding Kansas,” range conflicts (sheep vs. cattlemen), the Mexican border, family feuds and outlaw gangs may have taken a significant cumulative toll in lives, but not in one-time incidents.

The real civilian killing grounds were in Gold Rush-era (1849-59) California and the labor union strike zones east of the Mississippi during the 1900s, especially the coalfields of West Virginia and Illinois. Throw in a few rural revolts, Southern shootouts and 1890s Okla homa gunfights and you have a lethal ledger of confrontations.

Still, myths persist. The most enduring of which is the gunfight at the O.K. Corral in Tombstone, Ariz., in 1881. Wyatt Earp’s episode that chalked up three bodies was mere child’s play in comparison to other civilian shootouts, not to mention Davis’ exploits.

At least 30 civilian shootouts involving seven or more deaths occurred in U.S. history. Other than Davis’ gunfight, 15 had a body count of 11 or greater. Perhaps a half dozen of these were smaller-scale group confrontations. But none were one-man standoffs.

To make this count, the shootout had to have involved two armed parties, only one of which could have been a duly constituted military force. Fatal casualties must have been sustained while the opponent was still capable of fighting back. In other words, shooting unarmed rioters or executing captured prisoners does not count as a legitimate gunfight

MEXICAN WAR TO THE GOLD RUSH

This all brings us back to Jonathan Davis, who carried the honorary title of captain, and certainly earned it. Davis enlisted in South Carolina’s Palmetto Regiment of Volunteers in December 1846, quickly becoming a lieutenant.

Fighting with distinction in several key battles, he was wounded in action at Churubusco on Aug. 20, 1847. One of the war’s hardest-fought engagements, it cost the Americans more than 1,000 casualties. Discharged in 1848, Davis headed for what would become the Golden State.

Gold Rush-era California constituted one of the deadliest places and time periods in American history. Simply put, one had to know how to defend himself or perish. Davis knew how, as did the many other Mexican War vets who migrated to the rough-and-tumble goldfields.

One cutthroat gang roaming the prospecting paradise consisted of two Americans, one Frenchman, two Britons, five Australians and four Mexicans—the equivalent of an Army infantry squad in number. This assortment of criminal scum had just murdered 10 people, including four Americans, the day before taking on Davis.

On Dec. 19, 1854, he and two fellow prospectors, James McDonald and Dr. Bolivar Sparks, were passing through Rocky Canyon near Todd Valley on the Middle Fork of the American River not far from Sacramento.

Without warning, 14 banditos opened fire, killing McDonald instantly and mortally wounding Sparks, who only discharged two rounds before hitting the ground. (Sparks died of his wounds a week later on Dec. 26.)

Davis stood his ground, grasped “in a fever of excitement.” Unlimbering two Colt revolvers, he methodically picked off seven bandits with lethal accuracy. Ammo rapidly depleted on both sides. Four of the would-be robbers came after Davis with knives and a cutlass. Wielding his Bowie knife, he engaged them handto- hand, mortally wounding three by cold steel. The fourth fled the field of battle, minus a nose; he died the next day. The three other desperadoes hightailed it out of the blood-stained canyon.

When the dust settled, amazingly, Davis had sustained only two minor flesh wounds. Even more incredible, six bullets had passed through his hat and 11 perforated his coat and shirt.

SENSE OF PERSONAL HONOR

A hunting party of three miners happened to witness the entire fight. They would appear at the office of the Placerville Mountain Democrat on March 20, 1855. There, before a judge and group of prominent citizens, they recounted Davis’ actions. Written and verbal depositions verified what had happened. As part of the coroner’s jury, they concluded “that too much praise cannot be bestowed upon them for having so gallantly stopped the wild career of these lawless ruffians.”

Though some doubted this extraordinary gunfight, San Francisco’s Cali fornia Chronicle found that the story “is quite in character with things that often take place in California.” Back East, the New York Knickerbocker Magazine even published a ballad extolling Davis.

Oddly enough, this entire episode was lost to history. That is, until researcher Bill Secrest uncovered the account in the 1980s. Building upon his findings, John Boessenecker retold the story in his book, Gold Dust and Gunsmoke in 1999.

The Davis shootout clearly dwarfs any gunfight ever concocted by Holly wood. Boessenecker correctly categorized Davis’ stand as “emblematic of the ethic that governed men in the Gold Rush … a man’s sense of personal honor would not allow him to back down from an enemy.”

Modest to the end, Davis remarked of his exploits, “I did only what hundreds of others might have done under similar circumstances, and attach no particular credit to myself for it.” Nonetheless, if this had been a battle in war, Davis probably would have been awarded the Medal of Honor

EDITOR’S NOTE: If you know of an instance where one man killed an overwhelming number of enemy with edged weapon and/or handgun, please write and let us know."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yeah, I find a lot to like about the Captain.

Actually, I like my phrase, " The shootout started with the villains killing his (Daivs') partners outright then the Captain stood alone and fought like a Bengal Tiger." Not bad for prose for an old dumb redneck like moi :) Kind of stirring. . .

[9.3X62AL]

Such accounts are highly inspirational to many of those who visit sites like Cast Boolits and RugerForum. I know I find them to be so.

I think Boessecker may have hit upon a key element in the make-up of a man like the Captain, one largely absent from modern society--the unwillingness to back down or flee in the face of the enemy, based upon a sense of personal honor that could not conscience such a thing. To be sure, our armed forces and some segments of public sector safety employees remain steadfast in this vein, as do folks here. But much of this mindset has disappeared from modern life, and perhaps it was none too abundant in 1854, given the reluctance of contemporaries to publicize the feat and its disappearance from history until unearthed 126 years after the fact.

I think it all boils down to reluctance on the part of society to accept the fact that evil does truly exist, and that it takes strong resolute action to counter or defeat it. Denial in full flower is the bedrock upon which Chambers of Commerce, real estate interests, gun control advocates, and apologists like Neville Chamberlain build their foundations of fantasy.

Folks Like Us know differently. Trust--but verify. Be courteous and affable to all you meet, but have a plan on deck to deal with any SOB who brings danger to you or yours.

Windmills are beckoning......SANCHO, MY HORSE!

[Gibson]

Well put 9.63XAL!

I'm sure Rocinante will be along shortly :)

Get yourself strapped in and get ready for the macabre; the utterly depraved.

jmortimer has demanded I post this sketch: The Harpes.

I have visited Cave-in-Rock, Illinois. I have walked through the actual 'cave' for hours. Spent time in the small town; searched out the locals who had a bit of 'history' to share. That 'cave' is haunting. Sort of forlorn as Satre used the term. I suppose it is only in the mind because of a hint of its history. . .

These animals that we are about to discuss do not fit the mold.

For what it's worth here is a little background on how I got interested in all this:

"I want to tell you guys something.

I cannot explain this but there was something that sparked my interest in these old timers, my guess is that it was 28 years ago.

I am fairly certain that it was this book:

http://i.ebayimg.com/t/THE-OUTLAW-TRAIL-HISTORY-OF-BUTCH-CASSIDY-CHARLES-KELLY-/00/$(KGrHqIOKjYE0-oKNQQkBNiY-fS,F!~~_3.JPG

I was mesmerized by the story of "Flat Nose George", Robert LeRoy Parker, Longbaugh, Elza Lay, and, of course Harvey "Kid Curry" Logan. As a 19 year old I wrote a long article that was published in the National Association for Outlaw and Lawman History Quarterly. It was about Harvey Logan killing Pike Landusky in Montana. I also joined a group of folks interested in GA Custer. This outfit was known as the "Little Big Horn Associates".

I know it's an odd interest but I gradually became fascinated with the whole era. These three books really inspired my new obsession because they gave me insight as to what to read, and later, collect:

http://i.ebayimg.com/t/Six-Guns-and-Saddle-Leather-hc-revised-ed-Ramon-F-Adams-Western-Outlaws-dj-1982-/00/s/MTAyNFg3NDI=/$(KGrHqUOKjkE6,,rd5g1BOrq9Kg9dw~~60_57.JPG

http://i.ebayimg.com/t/American-History-Bibliography-THE-RAMPAGING-HERD-HBDJ-/00/s/NDUwWDMzNg==/$(KGrHqV,!okFBLwSdozfBQ,T!mPVog~~60_12.JPG

Wright Howes' glorious bibliography "USiana:

http://www.pacificrimusedbooks.com/11719.jpg

I became obsessed with the old time mountain men, the big cattle ranchers, the straight up cowboys, the soldiers, the Indians, but my favorite remained the old-time badmen and the sometimes good/sometimes bad men who went after them. (Well, I deeply despised the leaders of the Pinkertons, not necessarily the agents. One can hardly despise a man like Charlie Siringo, author of "A Texas Cowboy: or, Fifteen Years on the Hurricane Deck of a Spanish Pony ", how could you not love a guy who would write such a book? He was there, big time.)

I know I'm probably wrong but I do not see these guys, well at least not all of them (the 'Harpes' being a rare exception), in the same light that I see the modern bad guy. Yeah, I know, I know, what about Harry Tracy or Jesse James, or JWH, or etc. Yeah, I know. . . but I'm set in my ways.

There is something romantic in the old west. Something about those gun fights and those men like Nathan Champion who left poignant diaries or Tom Horn mounting the gallows with more courage than the people around him. Just me, i know, but I love it. When I read about Commodore Perry Owens, the hair on the back of my neck stands up, or "Wild Bill" in a darkened street peering at Phil Coe. What about Ben Thompson standing down an entire city police force with his Henry rifle?

I have to give the ultimate credit or discredit :) for my obsession to 'John Wayne'. I was always and still am a film buff. I do lean toward older films but anyway. . . There was something about the ideas and the way John Wayne played his western parts that inspired me. The nowadays quaint notion of honor, dignity, and respect that his onscreen characters exhibited struck me as ideal values.

Oh, I know, critics pan Duke's acting but I'll never forget one critic who actually got it, he said, Marion Morrison is a great actor each morning he gets up and puts on his John Wayne character. Touche. (But even ignoring that, his performances in Red River, The Searchers, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, True Grit, Hondo, and The Shootist can only be denigrated by the tone deaf.)

Sorry I got off on a roll there.

TO EVERYONE, I AM OBLIGED FOR YOUR INDULGENCE CONCERNING TYPOS. I'M LAZY IN MY MIDDLE AGE."

[Gibson]

Well, I suppose it is the Story of Big and Little Harpe, Micajah and Wiley, respectively. Their origins are mysterious but it (rumor?) has been handed down that were from Tory families who fought against American independence, that they were of Scotch ancestry and were born in North Carolina, no date of birth has been accepted. My guess is ca. 1768. It seems that all frontier tales to the contrary and they are legion, that the men were NOT brothers but were cousins. These animals would venture forth from the North Carolina mountains and walk into infamy. A newspaper account after Big Harpe's death claims he confessed to 37 murders committed by himself and his brother. This can be found in the issue of 1799 Oct 31, Carolina Gazette.

This scourge of Betsy and Susan Roberts, the daughters of a man known in frontier times as "old man Roberts"- he is clearly mentioned in a book written by a contemporary itinerant preacher, and Micajah and Wiley Harpe ride into western Tennessee in 1795.

Records indicate that Big Harpe, in 1797 "(Big Harpe) Micajah was married in Blount County, TN Sep 5, 1797 to Susanna Roberts while (Little Harpe) was married in Knox County, TN Jun 1, 1797 to Sarah Rice."

I wish to use the murder of famed pioneer Daniel Trabue's 13 year old son, as an illustration of their vileness. These men and their women had been murdering and pillaging from Knoxville Tennessee to central Kentucky. God only knows how many they slaughtered. They had become know for a favorite technique of body disposal. They eviscerated the individual them filled the cavity with stones stitched it up and sunk it in creeks/rivers. It may be misleading to point at the women's complicity but I suspect it. This wretched band had been imprisoned for the murder of Virginian Thomas Langford. They met him at an Inn for travelers, discovered that he carried significant coin, accompanied him upon leaving and murdered him in the primeval wilderness. His skull crushed with Big Harpe's tomahawk. All three women were pregnant. The "brothers Harpe" escaped leaving their to birth their spawn within confinement. Seems to have all been planned for somehow these three wretches managed to charm Kentucky officials and courts and beat the wrap. They are later reunited with their husbands. Into the hands of these monsters falls John Trabue.

John Trabue, boy of 13 years has been assigned an errand by his father, Daniel. He has been asked to trek over to a "neighbors" (not in the sense we think of but a significant distance away) to fetch some "seeds beans and flour". Accompanied by his dog, the boy ventures out. Sadly, it seems a posse pursuing the two Harpes after their above mentioned jailbreak had just decided that the are of the "cane breaks" was too thick. This is very near where John and his dog were traveling. Posse leader Scaggs had just arrived at the Trabue home shortly after John had left. He was discussing his ideas about the pursuit with a now frantic father. Sometime in the late evening a severely brutalized dog returns to its home. This sets of a tremendous search efforts. The neighbor reports that the boy showed up and left beans and flour in tow. The search goes on for days and it is supposed that the Harpes may have kidnapped the boy. Wishful thinking. Fifteen miles distant evidence of the Harpes is found in the form of a stolen and butchered calf, from which they have made footwear, abandoning their old moccasins. Two men but no boy leave prints. The following is later ascertained:

John and his dog were headed back along "the buffalo trace" path. There they encountered the Harpes. Who took the flour, attacked the dog with a tomahawk, and murdered, then dismember the boy. They threw the body parts into a sinkhole, where they were discovered two weeks later by accident.

They continued their butchery, killing likely a score of men. These fiends headed for Logan county Kentucky and somewhere near Mammoth Cave they encountered a negro youth going to mill, "they dashed his brains out against a tree, but left his horse and bag of grain untouched." Further along they encountered a young girl, Kentucky historian Collins, wrote, "One of their victims was a little girl found at some distance from her home, whose tender age and helplessness would have been protection from any but incarnate fiends."

These men would then go on shortly to butcher a tent full of pilgrims, to include men women and children, the sole survivor fled to give the alarm. The group included two men, their wives, children and some few slaves. Shortly after this Big Harpe dashed out the brains Little Harpe's infant. The child was crying and it got on his nerves so he slammed its head against a tree bursting its skull, then cast it away into the woods.

This is the kind of animals were are speaking of. Big Harpe, a man of huge strength and standing at least 6' 4". Little Harpe shorter but thick and muscular. Both lacking brains and conscience.

Next: Big Harpe Meets Pioneer Justice. . .

http://collectorebooks.com/gregg01/kentucky/DSC08848.jpg

http://p2.la-img.com/130/21789/7508156_1_l.jpg

http://lh4.ggpht.com/-OUdgrT2HPB8/Th2DHsxETvI/AAAAAAAACbM/iUz_G5yiKkM/069_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg

http://www.dixiegunworks.com/images/KE3201.jpg

[Gibson]

Big Harpe began his last ride with another brutal slaughter.

The Harpes had landed at the famous outlaw hideout, known as Cave-in-Rock. It was located on a bend in the Ohio River. I have been there and it is an absolutely natural formation and is an absolutely perfect blind for pirates/thieves. And it was certainly a home to some of the most despicable and famous of American river lore. Samuel Mason and James Ford among them.

They joined fellow outlaws in their pirating. These men would rob and then celebrate. During such an event, the Harpes grabbed a victim, stripped him, blindfolded his horse and forced him to ride off the cliff above the hideout. The pirates heard noises and scrambled out to see this disgusting spectacle. The next day they threw the Harpes out. I suppose even pirates have some standards.

The Harpes went back into Kentucky and then Tennessee. They failed to stay long and eventually began murdering and stealing their way back through Kentucky. They headed for the "Red Banks" area. (The old time name of Henderson, Kentucky- the city)

Mr. Harold Utley states: "They had rented a log cabin on Canoe Creek, about eight miles south of Red Banks.

John Slover lived about one mile from the cabin rented by the Harps. One day Slover was hunting near Robertson's Lick, and after killing a bear, was leisurely returning home when he heard the snap of a gun that failed to fire. Quickly turning in the direction of the sound, he saw his two new neighbors. Slover spurred his horse and escaped. He reported the incident to General Samuel Hopkins who was living at Red Banks. He ventured the opinion that the two men were the Harp brothers.

A few days later, a man named Trowbridge had been to Robertson's Lick to obtain salt. He was supposed to carry salt to a farm on the Ohio River near the mouth of Highland Creek. Trowbridge never returned. The mystery was solved a few months later when one of the Harp women let the facts be known.

When General Hopkins and a posse went to the Harp cabin, Slover did not recognize the Harps and they were able to escape. The next day the Harps joined the women and traveled south about fifteen miles to the cabin of James Tompkins, on Deer Creek, not far from Steuben's Lick. The Harps passed themselves as Methodist preachers. Mr Tompkins invited them to supper and Big Harp said a long grace before the meal. The Harps asked Tompkins why he had no venison. He explained that he had no gunpowder to kill game. Big Harp generously gave Tompkins a cup full of gunpowder.

The Harps left Tompkins' cabin and traveled to the cabin of Squire Silas McBee, apparently planning to kill McBee because of his activity in fighting outlaws. Luckily McBee had a half dozen or so dogs trained to hunt bear and deer. After a fierce fight with the dogs, the Harps withdrew. "

This "failed attack on a neighbor aroused suspicion, but a week of surveillance on the Harpe cabin failed to convince the locals of the renters' true identities as the Harpes.
While spies watched the Harpe men at the cabin, the Harpe women traveled elsewhere in the area collecting supplies and old debts. After a week of surveillance, the spies give up the job on Aug. 20. The following day, the Harpes left to meet their wives at a rendezvous. While riding good horses that morning, they met up with James Tompkins, a local resident. Tompkins had not met the men before and believed their tale of being itinerant preachers. The local man invited them home for the midday supper where Big Harpe presided over with a more than adequate meal blessing. Ironically, during the conversation, Tompkins admitted that he had no more powder for his gun. In a show of charity Big Harpe poured a teacup full from his powder horn. Three days later that powder would be used to shoot Big Harpe in the back as he tried to escape.
Leaving Tompkins' place in peace, the Harpes traveled on to the house of Silas McBee, a local justice of the peace, but because of McBee's aggressive guard dogs, decided against an attack. Instead they traveled to the home of an acquaintance, Moses Stegall. Moses wasn't home, but his wife offered them a bed to sleep in as long as they didn't mind a third man, Maj. William Love, who had arrived earlier. They accepted, but later that night murdered Love, Mrs. Stegall and the Stegall's four-month-old baby boy. In the morning they burned down the house hoping to attract the attention of McBee.
The smoke attracted McBee and a number of people."

The story is now told by that esteemed historian of Henderson County, Mr. Starling, written in 1887 and probably compiled from interviews some years earlier with elderly folks who remembered the actual events from their youth:

"News of these murders spread through the scattered population with rapidity. Stigall returned to find no wife to welcome him,
no home to receive him. Distracted with grief and rage he turned his
horse's head from the smouldering ruins and repaired to the house of
Captain John Leeper, who was one of the most powerful men of
his day, and as fearless as powerful. Alarm and excitement pervaded
every heart, men assembled at the call of Stigall and Leeper to con-
sult and to act. The conclusion was universal that these crimes were
the deeds of the Harpes. Large rewards for their heads, dead or
alive, had been publicly offered, and the pioneers of the wilderness
were determined upon their capture. A company was formed, con-
sisting of John Leeper, James Tompkins, Silas Magby, Neville Lind-
sey, Matthew Christian, Robert Robertson and the infuriated Moses
Stigall. If there were any others, their names have been forgotten.
These men, armed with rifles, got on the the trail of the Harpes and
overtook them at their camp upon the waters of Pond River.

About a quarter of a mile from camp, the pursuing party saw
Little Harpe and a man named Smith, who had been hunting horses
in the range, conversing near a branch of water. Little Harpe
charged Smith with being a horse thief, and blew in his charger, (a
small instrument with which the hunter measures his powder in load-
ing his gun). The shrill sound, their usual signal for danger, soon
brought Big Harpe to see what was the matter. The pursuing party
and Big Harpe arrived at the branch in opposite directions, at nearly
the same time. Big Harpe came mounted on a fine gray mare, the
property of the murdered Love, which he had appropriated. The
pursuers, not doubting the guilt of those whom they had overtaken,
without warning fired upon them, badly wounding Smith, but not hit-
ting either of the Harpes. Big Harpe was in the act of shooting Smith
as those in front among the pursuers fired. He had already cocked
his gun and told Smith he must die. But surprised by the volley and
by the rushing up of the persons, he reserved his fire, whirled Love's
mare around and galloped off to his camp. Little Harpe ran off on
foot to a thicket and was not seen afterwards.

On reaching Smith, the pursuers were detained listening to his
explanation. He was regarded as an accomplice of the Harpes, but
soon demonstrated his innocence and his life was spared. The pur-
suers hastened towards the camp and saw Big Harpe hastily saddling the horses and preparing to take the women off with him. Seeing
their rapid approach, he mounted Love's mare, armed with rifle and
pistols, and darted off, leaving the women and children to provide for
themselves. They were made prisoners, and Magby, a large, fat man,
unfitted for the chase, and one other were left to guard them. Love's
mare was large and strong and carried the two-hundred weight of her
rider, Big Harpe, with much ease, and he seemed to call on her to ex-
pend all her strength in his behalf. Tompkins, rather a small man, rode
a thorough-bred, full-blooded bay mare of the best Virginia stock, and
led in the pursuit. He had chased thieves before, and the only ac-
count he gave of one of them was " that he would never steal another
horse." Nance, his mare, exhibited both speed and bottom in this
race of life or death. The other horses were nothing like equal to
Nance or to the Love mare, and their riders being large men. Big
Harpe might entertain hopes of escape.

In the first two or three miles, he kept far ah ad, no one trailing
in sight except Tompkins. There was no difficulty in following
through the rich, mellow soil of the wilderness, the tracks made by
the horses of Harpe and Tompkins. Leeper was second in the chase
and the others followed as rapidly as possible. As the race pro-
gressed. Big Harpe drove into a thick forest of large trees upon a
creek bottom. Here he was overhauled by Tompkins. Each reined
up his^foaming steed and stopped. Neither attempted to fire. Tomp-
kins told Harpe that escape was impossible and he had better
surrender. " Never ! " was the quick reply. At that moment Leeper
was in sight. Harpe again dashed off at full speed, while Tompkins
tarried for Leeper. As soon as he came up he said, " Why didn't
you shoot ? " Tompkins replied that his mare was so fiery he could not
make a safe shot upon her and he would not fire unless he was sure of
execution. Leeper had fired upon the Harpes and Smith at the
branch, and finding that his ramrod could not be withdrawn in conse-
quence of its having got wet, told Tompkins he could not reload, that
his horse was fast failing, and that Harpe would escape unless
" Nance " could catch him. Tompkins replied, " that she could run
over Harpe's mare on any part of the ground." Leeper said, "Let's
exchange horses and give me your gun and shot pouch and I'll bring
him down if I can overtake him." They dismounted and exchanged
horses and arms and Leeper dashed forward after Big Harpe. The
noble mare proved her ability to " run over him upon any part of the
ground."

Leeper crossed the creek and after passing through the thick,
tall trees in the bottom, came in sight of the fleeing Harpe as he
reached higher ground with its prairie grass and scattered trees. The
gray mare (not) the better horse, Nance gradually gained upon her.
When Leeper got up within thirty yards, Harpe warned him " to stand
off or he would kill him. " Leeper replied, " One of us has to die,
and the hardest fend off."

As the woods became more open and interposed fewer obstruc-
tions, Leeper thought he had a good chance. Suddenly putting
" Nance" to her full speed, he rushed up within ten steps of Harpe,
threw his leg over the mane, and the bridle over Nance's head and
jumped to the ground, took aim and fired. Harpe reined up, turned,
presented his gun, and it snapped — all without dismounting. Leeper
afterwards said : " If Harpcs' gun had not snapped, the ball would
not have passed within twenty yards of me, so badly was it aimed."
Harpe then threw the gun down, wheeled the gray mare and pushed
on his course. From these circumstances Leeper knew he had hit
him. He caught and remounted Nance and soon overtook Harpe,
who told him to keep off or he would shoot him with a pistol. In a
few seconds Harpe ceased to urge the gray mare forward and put
both his hands to the pommel of the saddle to hold on. Leeper
rushed alongside and threw him to the ground. Two balls had
entered near the back bone and came out near the breast bone,
Harpe begged that he might be taken to justice and not be jjut to
instant death. Leeper told him that his request was useless ; that his
wound was fatal and he must soon die.

He then asked for a drink of water. Leeper walked away to a
branch close by, and, taking off one of his shoes, filled it with water
and started on his return to the wounded outlaw. At this time James
Tompkins, Stigall, and others, dashed up, and, without ceremony,
Stigall dismounted, drew his knife, and severed Big Harpe's head
from the body; and thus perished the most brutal of all brutal mon-
sters. A tall young tree, growing by the side of the trail, or road,
was selected, and trimmed of its lateral branches to the top, and then
pointed. On this point the head was fastened, the skull and jaw bones
remaining there for many years, after all else had mingled with the
dust. Near by stood a large tree in which was plainly cut the initials
of the dead outlaw, *'U. H.," which were plainly visible up to a few
years since. The place where this tree grew is in the present County
of Webster, at the intersection of the Henderson and Morganfield
and Madisonville roads."

The body itself, was left in the present day area of Graham, known as Harpe's Hill, as stated above. There, to feed the buzzards, worms, etc.

It is best supposed that there is far more to "Stigall's role. He clearly knew the Harpes and later in life became a felon.

Addenda from Rothert's "History of Muhlenberg County, Kentucky":

"Joseph R. Underwood, in his account compiled in 1871, based on infor-
mation supplied in 1838 by John B. Ruby, of Hopkins County, and pub-
lished in Collins' history, writes: "The pursuers, armed with rifles, got
on the trail of the Harpes and overtook them at their camp, upon the
waters of Pond river; but whether in the present boundary of Hopkins
or Muhlenburg county I have not satisfactorily ascertained."

Local tradition says Big Harpe crossed Pond River at Free Henry Ford
and was killed in Muhlenberg County, near what has since been known as
Harpe 's Hill. An oak tree four feet in diameter, which until 1910 stood
on the bank of Boat Yard Creek near the Slab Road leading from Harpe 's Hill to Free Henry Ford, has always been pointed out as the tree under
which John Leeper or Lieper, Moses Stigall or Stegal, and the other members of the pursuing party, killed Big Harpe, and under which the headless corpse of Big Harpe lay until it was devoured by wild animals. Clara Garris, who became the wife of James Stanley, and who during her long life lived near Harpe 's Hill, frequently pointed out this spot, declaring that Big Harpe was killed near this tree and that when a child of about ten years she saw his headless body lying there. "

I found "Free Henry Ford", the "Slab Road" and "Boat Yard Creek". Took copious amounts of photographs of where I deduced the beheading of Big Harpe took place. It is still a barren area.

http://www.andurzen.com/images/pond.gif

http://i2.squidoocdn.com/resize/squidoo_images/-1/draft_lens13306571module120860121photo_1285027909B ig-Harp200.jpg

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_RHk5fP6iA9w/TMROMwxfztI/AAAAAAAAApE/cknbnhskhow/s1600/Kentucky_map_1796_fs.jpg

http://www.heritech.com/soil/genealogy/potts/images/cave.jpg

http://www.illinoisinfocus.com/uploads/5/6/3/9/5639843/7664077.jpg

http://i.cdn.turner.com/trutv/trutv.com/graphics/photos/serial_killers/history/harpe_brothers/Marker-Big-Harp%27s-head200.jpg

http://www.oocities.org/caveinrock_1999/masonkillingscir.jpg

http://i.cdn.turner.com/trutv/trutv.com/graphics/photos/serial_killers/history/harpe_brothers/Cabin-similar-to-Harps200.jpg

As for the Harpe's background see T. Marshall Smith's "Legends of the War of Independence" 1855. (I once sold a first edition of green cloth book.)

But now we digital versions, free :) This gives the most on "who the Harpe's were" http://www.archive.org/stream/legendsofwarofin00smit/legendsofwarofin00smit_djvu.txt

I spent more than one day in Russellville Kentucky, as well as in Frankfort Kentucky doing research. There is little to be found in Russellville but the State Archives in Frankfort has things of interest. Reading the newspaper accounts from ~1799 was fascinating, among other documents.

Otto A. Rothert's "The Outlaws of Cave-in-Rock" cannot now nor ever will be topped. BUY IT!

One of the reprint editions is here. I once owned an inscribed copy or two of the 1st. They brought around 300 USD back then. God knows now. . . if you could find one.

http://www.amazon.com/Outlaws-Cave-Rock-Shawnee-Classics/dp/0809320347

[9.3X62AL]

Hijo la, that lot makes the Manson Family seem docile.

I had the privilege of working with one of the men (Al Barker) who starred as the portly boy in John Wayne's film "The Cowboys". I can attest that in all ways he grew into a law officer of stern stuff and considerable skill. His idea of a good time and stress relief is "wrasslin' bulls". He will do to ride the river with.

[jmort]

Reading this is not much like reading about gun fights between evenly matched tough guys. Preying on weak defenseless children and charitable pioneers is despicable. My favorite part of this was the smaller horse and smaller determined man riding down the *** and putting an end to a true coward. Frontier life was not for the weak. Stories of Indian savagery were even worse.

[Gibson]

Reading this is not much like reading about gun fights between evenly matched tough guys. Preying on weak defenseless children and charitable pioneers is despicable. My favorite part of this was the smaller horse and smaller determined man riding down the *** and putting an end to a true coward. Frontier life was not for the weak. Stories of Indian savagery were even worse.

Here, here! Agreed.

[Gibson]

James H. Leavy AKA Jim Levy. The Jewish, Irish gunman.

Some disputation exists as to the spelling of his surname:

"Jim Leavy also wrote a letter to the Pioche Record in the 1870s and signed it "Leavy".

It seems there exists a number of documents (property deeds, etc.) with the Irish spelling "Leavy" but newspapers and some other documents spelled his surname, "Levy", the Jewish spelling, so to speak. I expect that he, himself, more often spelled it "Leavy" but we will refer to him as "Jim Levy". It has often been said about Levy that he survived 16 gunfights in his career and from what I can make of it, I would not doubt it. However, at this late date it would be difficult to prove. I actually believe it based on all I have read of him, but it's belief not provable fact. He was all over the west. But began to get a reputation for his deeds and no-nonsense toughness, in Deadwood, D.T.

A gambler and a gunman, and truly a badaxx.

http://jewishmag.com/142mag/western_shootout/Image45.jpg

Well will focus on his late winter gunfight of 1877, a fight with gambler/gunman Charlie Harrison. It was another of those that never really happened, you know, a straight up face-to-face both men drawing almost simultaneously and firing, gunfight. The mythical kind where they agree to meet in the street and shoot it out. . . :)

In later years Bat Masterson wrote of many of the old timers he knew. The gunfight between Levy and Charlie Harrison was not a subject that I am aware of, but! Bat did know Charlie Harrison. Harrison was well known as a gunman throughout the west as well as a superior gambler. Just for idea of how he rated as a gunfighter here are the words of Bat Masterson concerning Charlie Harrison:

http://img819.imageshack.us/img819/5081/levy1.jpg

[Gibson]

Do you guys recall our sketch on Wild Bill's sunset? Well interesting I found a reference by a an old timer who was in deadwood during the period where he distinctly mentions that Jim Levy had gained a reputation there and that he had killed multiple men. Then he goes on to state that only Wild Bill exceeded his stature at the time Hickok was there. Recall how the good town's business leaders (read whorehouses, gambling dens, and gin swilling joint owners) had feared Wild Bill getting elected or appointed law officer of the town? Remember how they wanted to "get rid off him"?

"Tim Brady and Johnny Varnes, two leaders of the Deadwood underworld, initiated a plot to kill Hickok so he wouldn't be appointed marshal. Jim Levy and Charlie Storms, two noted gunmen, were offered the job but turned it down. Had they known about Hickok's bad eyesight, they might well have accepted."

Levy had come into world in Dublin, Ireland in the year 1842. And as a young man, come to America with his family in 1856.

Jim Levy ended up in Pinoche, Nevada and was there like many, digging for silver. Each day the miners would go into town for a few cold beers and whatever else they could run across. Jim had gone to the Midnight Star Saloon for a couple of beers and as the evening wore on, he stepped outside for a smoke. It was May 30, 1871. He was sitting there as one can imagine, maybe rubbing his brow and contemplating the morning when he heard yelling in the street! A tussle or worse. . .

Two coarse looking men were cursing at each other and gunplay was next.

"Jim was sitting on the front stoop of the Midnight Star Saloon when Michael Casey shot Tom Gasson. He was wounded badly. Gasson lay on his death bed a week before finally passing away. Before he died, he bequeathed $5,000 to any man who would avenge his killing. It was a lot of money. . ."

A coroner's inquest was held and Casey steadfastly maintained that it was a case of self-defense. However, as a witness to affray, Levey was called in to testify. He made it clear that Casey had fired the first shot and it wasn't due to being quicker on the draw.

legendsofamerica.com:

"Afterwards, Casey tracked down Levy at a local store and challenged the unarmed miner to a gunfight. Accepting the challenge, Levy rushed off to obtain a weapon and returned a short while later. In the alley behind the store, the two squared off. Levy called to Casey, then opened fire, grazing Casey’s skull with his bullet. When Casey dived at Levy, Jim fired again, hitting his opponent in the neck. As the wounded man began to fall, Levy hit him over the head with his revolver. In the meantime, a cohort of Casey’s shot Levy in the jaw before running away. Though terribly disfigured and losing several teeth, Levy survived and was arrested for Casey’s murder. However, he was acquitted and released. He also collected on Gasson’s deathbed bequest of $5,000."

Pinoche, Nevada:

http://jewishmag.com/142mag/western_shootout/Image46.jpg

It was shortly or immediately after this that Jim decided mining was not his way to fame and fortune but that, just maybe, gambling and "regulating" (selling his gun) just might be.

Mr. Levy began to move about the west. He haunted the mining camps, cowtowns and on occasion the growing cities. It was during period of regulating that his reputation grew, and grew, and grew. In decade, beginning with his killing of Casey, he is said to have survived 16 gunfights. As I stated above, I believe it. One contemporary newspaper, the Leader, referred to him as a "pistoliferous gambler", in its account of the coming 1877 gunfight. There still exist records of him being accused and acquitted of murders during this period. (In 1873, he was charged with the murder of Thomas Ryan, but managed to beat the charge.) We will focus on the Charlie Harrison-Jim Levy gunfight of March 9, 1877, in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

Next. . .

[Gibson]

So, how did the March 9, 1877 showdown, go down?

From James Reasoner's book, "Draw: The Greatest Gunfights of the American West" (Reasoner is a novelist but this is history):

http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/9072/levy2f.jpg
http://img812.imageshack.us/img812/9030/levy3.jpg
http://img16.imageshack.us/img16/4827/levy4.jpg

There you go. Harrison was given a reasonable chance to make it but died later never arising. The Leader estimated that his funeral was attended by "a majority of the sporting fraternity, with their wives, and other females."

Eddy Street, where fight took place:

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/DYERSHOT.jpg

[Gibson]

Levy's Final Stand OR An old town called Tucson

Levy landed in old Tucson in 1882. He continued his saloon ways: gambling, drinking and continuing to exhibit his no nonsense sullen manner.

On the evening of June 5th Levy was sitting at the faro table of John Murphy, in one of the more upscale saloons, the Fashion Saloon. The two men were at odds almost from the time the game got going. VERY heated words were passed. At some point Murphy became enraged enough that he left the table (he was the dealer). The pair then agreed to "step outside" and settle it with shootin' irons. However NEITHER was armed as firearms were prohibited in the Fashion. So, both decided to get a nights sleep and settle it in the street in the morning. I suppose it was a good idea that the two men have a night to settle things with the Almighty, as one would be seeing Him soon. Murphy left and Jim stuck around a bit.

Now, it appears that Murphy got wind of the badly facially scared gunfighter's reputation. He decided further precautions were in order.

Later that same night, Jim walked out of the Fashion Saloon heading for his room at the Palace Hotel. He was still unarmed. In the dark, out on the street, John Murphy waited with his friends, Dave Gibson and Bill Moyer.

Reasoner:

http://img41.imageshack.us/img41/6364/levy5.jpg


Gibson, Moyer, and Murphy were captured and charged but, as is often the case in the old days, the somehow managed to break jail and flee. None were ever recaptured nor seen again.

Thus another example of livin' and dyin' old west style :)

[Gibson]

Ethos.

http://www.artmt.com/cmr/freetrappers400.jpg

[Gibson]

"Dirty" Dave Rudabaugh tomorrow. . .

[Mike.44]

We'll be waiting.

[9.3X62AL]

Good stuff, Gibson. Those who live by the sword (or gun) have a tendency to die by the same. Goodness knows I saw that occur with frequency during my lawdog days.

[Gibson]

Thanks, guys!

I caught a classic line on Gunsmoke last night.

Old Chills Wills (utterly cool in my book) he said:

"look at that hog leg six shooter, got a hair trigger on it too. . . betcha this thing could shoota mile and then chunk rocks at ya" BWHAHAHAHAHA!

Every time I see him in a western my mind drifts to his terribly unknown performance in an AH Presents episode, i.e., "Don't Interrupt".

[gunseller]

All I can say about yesterday is, Darn it Gibson you about made me late for work. Setting under some of the old trees where long ago people sat and conducted business or other things can make you wander how much life has changed and is it for the better at times. I have set under what is left of an old tree that D, Boone is supposed to have set under talking to Indians and local whites and setteling differances between them. This was at his house in Missouri. My favorit time period is from1750 to 1850. Stories about that time always get me going. As has been stated many time live by the sword die by the sword. What was the ratio of men to women in the old west? It has been said that women stopped the gun play as much as anything else worked to stop the gun play. I guess it means that men had something to live for so they started carring is they lived or died. Keep up the good work. Everytime I come to this thread the words come into my mind,"Stay tuned for the continuing ................." Thank you
Steve

[Gibson]

All of the kind words mean a lot from you guys. I hope everyone will chime in because it's clear there are a helluva lot of viewers. Thanks, boys.

BTW: I have one on the Sandbar Fight of 1827, involving the blade man! A no BS tough son of a gun! Jim Bowie was the real thing, no joke.

I also have a long piece on the MMM but I am apprehensive as my views might offend LDS shooters. No point in that.

Okay. It ~ 3:40 pm here so throw on a pot of coffee and get ready for a rip roarin' tale of old. . BUT this is totally uncorrected, it is pasted as typed, a rough draft. Not rough on facts and details but rough in terms of diction, syntax, spelling, aw heck, grammar in general.

Here goes:

[Gibson]

Dave "Rudabaugh" (we will use that spelling) was a really insular fellow in many ways. He was reported to be husky, and a tall man for the times; he had what seems to me a bit of a bullying persona. He was always a cover your own *** kind of fellow and ALWAYS looked out for his own best interest. But on most occasions he had no issue with taking on the law. He helped his friends and took revenge on people who harmed his friends but if the chips ever got all the ways down he looked out for himself, first. And he would kill mercilessly.

And did.

He was arrested by Bat Masterson; he was friends and outlaw associates with Mysterious Dave Mather; he rode with "The Kid". He was associated other very famous personages like, Holliday, Earp, Garrett, etc.

Let's begin at the beginning and then we'll run quickly towards our main incidents of interest.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/it/5/5c/DirtyDaveRudabaugh.jpg

"Tough Towns", Smith:

http://img812.imageshack.us/img812/889/rudy1a.jpg

[Gibson]

Do you guys recall our prior sketch on Mysterious Dave Mather? Good. :)

[*Mysterious Dave Mather. Not certain if I've posted it here. Mather was another underrated tough guy.He shot it out with FOUR cowboys, solo. They had just slaughtered (proper term considering the lead thrown into his body) lawman (well Hoodoo Brown controlled lawman) Joe Carson. Carson and Mather, as well as Rudabaugh were involved with the "Dodge City Gang". Gunman under the control of JoP Hoodoo Brown. The men named may not have been full fledged member but certainly acted as his muscle. HooDoo and his gang controlled Las Vegas, for the most part.]

Rudabaugh had shown up in Las Vegas after being captured by Bat Masterson and a man we will have occasion to speak of more, shortly, John Joshua Webb, with two others. On January 27, 1878 at Kinsley, Kansas, Rudabaugh and his "gang" attempted a train robbery. However, the robbery went sour and the gang was forced to flee the scene of crime without a dollar of loot. The next day, Dave was captured with Ed West by Bat Masterson and a small posse. The others were captured soon after. It seems Dave and Ed were surprised but attempted to clear leather HOWEVER Bat Masterson threw down on both men and his fellow possemen Webb, cocked his Colt's revolver, looked up at Rudabaugh, and said pleasantly "I wouldn't do that if I was you." Neither man did it. Bat Masterson would have likely killed them both. Rudabaugh, as mentioned earlier, turned on his friends, testified against them and almost literally got the hell out of Dodge. The Kinsley Graphic put it thusly, "Rudabaugh. . .was promised entire immunity if he would squeal, therefore he squole."

The Dodge City Gang was still being headed up by Justice of the Peace Hyman G. Neill, also known as Hoodoo Brown. And our latest badman was smack in the middle of this band of nefarious goons. They were still running roughshod over the entire town. He, along with another VERY tough hombre, John Joshua Webb, were the Las Vegas, New Mexico law. Webb was a policeman with Rudabaugh as his deputy. The Dodge City Gang had free reign. They robbed and they pillaged.

http://img43.imageshack.us/img43/7238/rudy2e.jpg

When gang member Joe Carson was killed by three men, Dave, Webb, Mather, Neill, and several other gang members lynched the three killers. Remember how that Mather shot it out with all four of these men after they shot down Carson in the saloon? Mather killed one and shot two others? Well it is the other three that Rudabaugh led the mob that stormed the jail and lynched. "Feb. 7, 1880---A lynch mob comprised of the Dodge City Gang (and including such notables as Dave Rudabaugh, Dave Mather, Hoodoo Brown, and J. J. Webb) storm the Vegas jail and drag out West, Henry, and Dorsey. The three badmen are taken to a large windmill located in the town plaza. There, all three men are lynched."

City most of the "Gang" was associated with:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/DodgeCity1876-500.jpg

**"Tough Towns", Smith

Stay tuned. . . the story has a bloody ending

Adios Amigos

[Gibson]

Masterson and Earp:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/b/b1/Wyatt_Earp_und_Bat_Masterson_1876.jpg/200px-Wyatt_Earp_und_Bat_Masterson_1876.jpg

J.J. Webb made a terrible error in judgement. He overplayed his hand.

In March of 1880, Wyoming cattleman Mike Kelliher came Las Vegas. Mr. Kelliher came in flush with cash as he was there for the sole purpose of purchasing livestock. But Mike made a mistake of allowing it to be noticed by several men that he had a large pile of "cabbage". Word quickly funneled to the Dodge City Gang. They made up a hasty scheme that would not have fooled a blind man because they really didn't care. As I stated, overplayed. . . One of Hoodoo's henchmen spotted Kelliher drinking leisurely in a bar, he walked in and managed to provoke an argument. Of course, two other Gang associates immediately burst in, J.J. Webb being one of them. Webb simply pulls his sixguns and drops Kelliher. The men quickly grabbed his poke and then walked out. Even Hoodoo could not stop the townsfolk's outrage. Webb was arrested and jailed. An angry mob then attempted to storm the jail. But were faced down by the cold courage and pointed sixgun of Mysterious Dave Mather. In short order Webb was tried, convicted, and sentenced to a date with a rope.

J.J. Webb, a real 'hardcase':

http://canteymyerscollection.com/gallery/2_07_08_11_12_55_04.jpeg

From "Lincoln County War", Nolan:

http://img838.imageshack.us/img838/6693/rudy3.jpg

It appears that Dave executed the Deputy Sheriff Lino Valdez. Here's why: " Dave, Allen, and fellow Dodge City Gang member Tom Pickett traveled south to the Fort Sumner area and got work there on the Thomas Yerby ranch as a cover. Allen was eventually shot and killed by Dave, possibly because Dave feared Allen would betray him. " Exactly correct. In my opinion, Rudabaugh, as always, looking out for number one. Getting rid of Allen, gave him another advantage. If caught, Allen was responsible. And that is exactly what happened. He was caught and testified that brave officer Valdaz, when asked for the keys, stated: "You may kill me but I won't give them up". Rudabaugh said Allen replied, "That's easy", and shot him. Rudabaugh turned off the lights forever of both men, is my surmise.

"Dave and Pickett continue on and are hired by Charlie Bowdre to work as ranch-hands on the Yerby ranch. At some point, the pair meet Billy Bonney. Exactly how and where they met Billy is unknown, but it was probably either by Charlie introducing them at the Yerby ranch, or Jim Greathouse introducing them at his way station/saloon, where Billy's gang and Dave and Pickett often frequent. Either way, Billy and Dave decide to ''team-up'' and begin riding together in Billy's rustling gang, with Pickett also joining. Apparently, Billy knows of Dave's infamous reputation as a badman and is wary around him. "

It seems Dave Rudabaugh hooking up with Billy and his guys was sort of a match made in hell.

"Tough Towns", again:

http://img51.imageshack.us/img51/4382/rudy4.jpg

[Gibson]

Here is a very accurate account of what happened between the posse and the Rudabaugh/Billy the Kid group. From here: http://www.angelfire.com/mi2/billytheki ... logy8.html

"Nov. 27, 1880---Before dawn, a thirteen-man posse from White Oaks, once again led by Will Hudgens and Tom Longworth, surrounds the Greathouse-Kuch way station, which is currently housing Billy, Rudabaugh, and Wilson. Before the sun rises, Constable Longworth rides back to the Oaks to get reinforcements and leaves Hudgens and Dep. Jame Carlyle in charge. When cook Joseph Steck steps outside in the morning, he is grabbed by the posse and told to carry a note inside to the Kid, ordering him to surrender. Billy and gang laugh at this and send Steck back outside with a note asking one of the posse to come inside and discuss their ''terms of surrender.'' Dep. Carlyle volunteers, provided Jim Greathouse come outside and give himself to the posse. Greathouse agrees and comes out and Carlyle goes in. Inside, Carlyle speaks with Billy, while Wilson and Rudabaugh proceed to get drunk at the bar. When Billy looks at Carlyle's hands, he discovers he's wearing a pair of gloves belonging to Billy that he left at the Coyote Springs campsite a few days earlier. Although at first incensed over this, he calms down and resumes his discussion with the deputy. At some point, the outlaws order Carlyle to sit at the bar and have a drink with them. For the next several hours, with their guns trained on him, Rudabaugh and Wilson make the deputy match them drink for drink until he, like them, is drunk. Billy, however, apparently obstains [sic] from the drinking. Meanwhile, Steck carries notes back and forth between Billy and the posse for most of the day. Billy knows that inside the warm ranchhouse, he can easily outlast the posse out in the shivering cold. By 11:00 PM, the posse tires of this and sends Steck inside with a note telling Billy to hand over Carlyle in the next few minutes, or Greathouse will be shot. Billy and the others don't take the threat seriously though, and continue to hold Carlyle. A few minutes later, one of the posse fires a shot in the air. Thinking Greathouse has been killed, Carlyle leaps through a nearby window and ends up being shot three times, either by the outlaws or by his own startled posse. He staggers a few feet, then collapses, dead in the snow. A short time later, the posse withdraws and rides back to town. Greathouse, who was unharmed by the posse, along with Steck and Fred Kuch mount their horses and ride to the nearby Spencer ranch, fearing the posse will return. Billy, Rudabaugh, and Wilson, however, remain at the station for the night. On the same day, the Texas cowboys being led by Bob Roberson arrive in Anton Chico and proceed to spend their time gambling and getting drunk as they await Siringo's arrival."

What's this guy's name? :)

http://www.csmonitor.com/var/ezflow_site/storage/images/media/images/1231-billy-kid-pardon/9268042-1-eng-US/1231-BILLY-KID-PARDON_full_600.jpg

A dapper, Garrett:

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/15/PatFGarrett.JPG/220px-PatFGarrett.JPG

Looking at the characters involved, I figure IF he was killed by the outlaws THEN it was likely Rudabaugh or the Kid or even more likely, both. The Kid, Rudabaugh and the others made good their escape. But freedom was short lived.

"On Dec. 19, 1880, while Dave, Billy, Bowdre, Pickett, Wilson, and Tom Folliard were riding into Fort Sumner, Sheriff-elect Pat Garrett and his posse opened fire on them. In the melee, O'Folliard was killed as was Dave's horse. A few days later, on Dec. 23, 1880, Dave, Billy, Pickett, and Wilson were captured and Charlie Bowdre killed by Pat Garrett and his posse. They were taken back to Las Vegas, where a mob had gathered for the purpose of lynching Dave for the murder of Dep. Valdez. The Garrett posse stood off the mob though and Dave, the Kid, and Wilson were taken by train to Santa Fe. There, in February 1881, Dave was indicted on two charges of robbing the U. S. mail in connection to the stage robberies, and one charge of attempted mail robber in connection with the train robbery. He pleaded guilty to all charges and was sentenced to ninety-nine years in prison. He was then tried in Santa Fe on the murder charge of Lino Valdez, was found guilty, and sentenced to death by hanging, with the date slated as May 20, 1881. He was reunited with Webb in jail and after one very unsuccessful escape attempt in which one fellow prisoner was killed, the pair eventually escaped with a few others."

Garrett was a REAL rough customer. Highly underrated as a no nonsense gunfighter/lawman.

Image: The abandoned rock house about 16 miles east of Old Fort Sumner said to have been built by Alejandro Perea, in which Billy the Kid, Charlie Bowdre, Billy Wilson, Tom Pickett, and Dave Rudabaugh sought refuge on the night of December 22, 1880, after Sheriff Pat Garrett's posse surprised the gang as they came into Old Fort Sumner, in the snow on the night of December 19, and shot Tom O'Folliard. On the morning of December 23, 1880, Charlie Bowdre was shot as he appeared at the door of the rock building to feed his horse. Long ago this rock house was torn down and the rocks used elsewhere. (Source: This photo and info appeared on the front cover of the 1995 Outlaw Gazette. The Outlaw Gazette is published annually by the Billy the Kid Outlaw Gang.)

http://www.angelfire.com/nm/boybanditking/rockhouse1.jpg

Rudabaugh flees to Mexico. (He possibly, no, likely, stopped off in Tombstone and joined "the Clanton Gang during the infamous Earp-Clanton feud. Dave possibly [likely] participated in the attempted assassination of Virgil Earp and the assassination of Morgan Earp. He was very probably in the gunfight at Iron Springs in which Wyatt Earp killed Curly Bill Brocius. . ."

Stay tuned for a short but violent ending.

Possible image of Rudabaugh:

[img]http://canteymyerscollection.com/gallery/2_08_08_11_5_00_56.jpeg[/img

[Gibson]

Rudabaugh drifted into the area of Parral, Chihuahua, Mexico. He caught on at a few local ranches 'cowboying' but as a side job he and his associates- rustlers friends- were rustling his employers' cattle. After being fired in early 1886, Dave became even more sullen, almost morose. He rode into Parral and for all intents and purposes bullied the entire town. No one dared to stop him. At first. . .

On the chilly winter night of February 18, 1886, Dave sat in a cantina in Parral gambling. When the locals apparently tired of abuse from Dave decided to stand up to him, all hell broke loose. Two local men looked up and called Dave out for cheating- no doubt, he was. In true gunfighter fashion all three men cleared leather and commenced blazing away. Sad thing is, the Mexicans were no match for a rattlesnake like Rudabaugh. He shot one through the head and the other through the heart. Both men, DEAD RIGHT THERE. Dave calmly turned and walked out to get on his horse. In all that happened and the darkness, for some reason, Dave could not locate his horse. He walked back into the cantina but now it was in total darkness. He was then set upon by a mob of patrons. Who eventually severed his head and paraded it around town.

A slightly different version, from "Tough Towns":

http://img19.imageshack.us/img19/1356/rudy5q.jpg

The Photo:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-outlaws/RudabaughHead.jpg

http://img12.imageshack.us/img12/5078/rudy6u.jpg

http://t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRbpKxuFtmrYxAKZGtGDMwFGbwR9VTDi ZCNKySqvR24LVg1x_Ofiv36sEC3

Thus ends the life of Arkansas Dave Rudabaugh. . .

[Gibson]

There ya go!

[Baryngyl]

Sorry I took so long in getting this pic I said I would.
55376

[Mike.44]

This is sooooo fascinating Gibson. Please keep it up.

[9.3X62AL]

Yessir--what Mike .44 said, and then some. Lotta little-known history being presented in this thread.

[Gibson]

Thanks guys. AND doubly thanks for NOT pointing out a typo that I made. I posted NEVADA when I MEANT New Mexico. This was pointed out to me.

For having the tact and decency not to embarrass me, I am in your debt. The Hoodoo Brown crew/Dodge City Crew were in Las Vegas, NEW MEXICO. I CLEARLY knew that as evidenced by my Dave M ather sketch as it uses images from a web site about the history of the small town.

Again, my apologies! I corrected it.

[jmort]

Head on a stick and a just reward. It seemed that if you were determined to lead a life of crime it was better to keep moving. After awhile, the "good guys" will have taken enough abuse and settle the score. I think the paper summed it up well: "The was no hint of regret at his passing." It is interesting for the reporting to point out that "The Kid" treated Rudabaugh with "kid gloves" so we know he was a bad a$$. As always, interesting, fascinating, good hard work on your part. Again, I will say that I really like the formatting, pictures, and multiple texts/sources. Thanks

[Gibson]

Let us see if you guys are interested in a bit of truth behind the legend.

We are aware of the embellishment and exaggeration behind William Frederick Cody and his "daring deeds". We, myself included, dismiss him. But is there a grain of truth behind the legend? Indeed there is. Stay tuned for some due being given to an old showman. Who is usually summarily dismissed. Not so fast, pal. :)

[Gibson]

http://westernfrontierblog.files.wordpress.com/2012/03/may08_was_he_hero_buff_bill_250.jpg

"Cody officially signed the paybook as scout in Cheyenne, Wyo., on June 10, 1876. One trooper recalled, 'All the old boys in the regiment upon seeing General Carr and Cody together, exchanged confidences, and expressed themselves…that with such a leader and scout they could get away with all the Sitting Bulls and Crazy Horses in the Sioux tribe.' A soldier's wife was similarly impressed with Buffalo Bill: 'I remember his fine figure as he stood by the sutler store, straight and slender, with his scarlet shirt belted in and his long hair distinguishing him….' Actually, Cody's unique costume was cause for some snickering in the camp. Back in '69 he'd worn a frontiersman's buckskins, yet now he sported a bright red fireman's shirt; his black velvet pants were trimmed with scarlet, adorned with silver bells and fancy embroidery. This outfit was apparently some Eastern stage manager's idea of what Mexican vaqueros wore, and it was adopted for Cody's theatrical performances. When some unkind wags in Philadelphia joked that a real scout, whose job often entailed stealth, would scarcely roam the plains in a red shirt and bells, Buffalo Bill had been furious. He vowed to someday wear his stage duds on an actual campaign. Throughout the 5th's long, weary ride, Cody stuck to his velvet pants, bells and all."

http://images.reproarte.com/files/images/R/russell_charles_m/0162-0074_buffalo_bill-s_duell_with_yellow_hand.jpg

William Frederick Cody was indeed a showman. He exaggerated his exploits for the stage, of this there can be no doubt, but what truth is there?

Well the truth is he was there and he did indeed scout and he did indeed kill MANY, many buffalo. While he claimed well over 4, 000 I have no idea as to the truth of that figure. But the fact is he was well known by the army and was, without doubt, respected for his real world abilities.

This short sketch is about an incident with a Cheyenne. The Indian's name has been erroneously translated as "Yellow Hand". This came about because of one Baptiste Garnier, AKA "Little Bat". He was a 5th Cavalry scout on the same expedition with Cody and interpreted the name Hay-o-wei as "Yellow Hand". The name should have been "Yellow Hair". He was the son of Cheyenne chief, Cut-Nose. The incident occurred on July 17, 1876 on Hat Bonnet Creek (not War Bonnet Creek as is often stated today; that creek is approximately 30 miles away).

Cody left his theatrical pursuits at the urging of Colonel Anson Mills, eventually; and announced to his audience that play acting was over and he was rejoining the Indian wars. He did so after receiving multiple letters from Colonel Mills, requesting his assistance. There actually exist contemporary letters written by Colonel Mills to his superiors asking for Cody and referring to him as "an excellent and invaluable guide".

He was welcomed by cheers from the enlisted men of the 5th Cavalry.

One enlisted man, Brown, wrote the following (it ends with a section of the quote above):

"At noon on the 9th W.F. Cody (Buffalo Bill) joined the command as a scout and guide. There is very little change in his appearance since I last saw him in '69, except that he looks a little worn, probably caused by his vocation in the East not agreeing with him. All the old boys in the regiment, upon seeing General Carr and Cody together, exchanged confidences, and expressed themselves to the effect that with such a leader and scout they could get away with all the Sitting Bulls and Crazy Horses in the Sioux tribe."

Stay tuned. . .

[Gibson]

Cody had been on "duty" with the 5th for 3 weeks when Wesley Merritt was sent in as the new Colonel of the 5th Cavalry. Cody immediately met with him and accompanied him to his command. Merritt wasted no time and on July 3rd, the outfit was indeed on the Indian's trail of which they had been sent out in search of.

Company I was sent forward and came out of the brushy area they had been marching in to find Buffalo Bill already there and waving his hat at them. Company I then followed closely as the scouts pointed the way. Lieutenant King recorded:

"Buffalo Bill plunging along beside us on a strawberry roan, 16 hands high, gets a trifle of a lead, but we are tearing up the crest in a compact body, reach it, rein up, amazed and disgusted- not an Indian to be seen for two miles across the intervening swale."

But in 30 miles or so there would be a brief exchange of fire with the Cheyenne, which compelled the group to abandon supplies that they had for the enemy.

Within a week the soldiers would receive word of the Custer Massacre. . .

http://www.wyomingtalesandtrails.com/1stscalp.jpg

At first light on July 17, Cody who been out in from of the soldiers reconnoitering, caught sight of a Cheyenne encampment and immediately alerted the sentry of "A" column who was also in the field. He rode straight up to a young Chris Madsen, the man who would become a legendary lawman years later (one of the "Three Guardsmen"). He told them to signal the leadership of the soldiers but Cody never hesitated, he bolted away and rode to Colonel Wesley Merritt and told him of the situation. Merritt immediately sent out his men. Cody was sent in the lead.

The skirmish is next.

http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xmx5nb5rts0/TA5fa4Cj7qI/AAAAAAAAAcU/K6DAKfOb6lI/s1600/Buffalo+Bill+Cody.jpg

http://www.schwendguns.us/images/SG_Buffalo_Bill.jpg

[Gibson]

Robert B. Smith, Wild West Magazine, December 1996:

Merritt ran down the hill to join the 5th as it crossed Warbonnet Creek [see above for actual creek] and formed its ranks on the east bank of the stream, just behind a high rise concealing them from the oncoming Cheyenne. Responding to whispered commands, the troopers thumbed cartridges into their Springfields and waited for whatever the next few fateful minutes would bring.

As scouts and soldiers saddled up, King kept the seven warriors under observation. He waited until they were no more than 100 yards from Warbonnet Creek, then jumped up and waved his hat, shouting: 'Now, lads, in with you!'

Instantly, Cody and the rest of his little band galloped around the hill and launched themselves at the seven Cheyenne. Trooper Madsen, still posted on his lonely hilltop to the north, had a clear view of all that happened next, as did Sergeant John Powers of Company A, who was moonlighting as an on-the-scene correspondent for the Ellis County Star.

Cody, astride a powerful horse [a magnificent animal, the 16 hand strawberry roan mentioned above], was well in advance of the other would-be rescuers, so far in front that upon rounding the hill he nearly ran headlong into the leading warrior, a young man sporting a magnificent headdress so long its feathers nearly trailed on the ground.

Cody and the lone Cheyenne fired at each other almost simultaneously, Cody using his Winchester carbine and the Indian replying with a heavy revolver. Cody's aim was better: his first shot passed through his opponent's leg and killed the pony he was riding.

At that moment Cody's own horse stumbled in a prairie dog hole, pitching Bill headlong to the ground. The scout scrambled up in an instant, just as his wounded opponent sent another bullet whizzing past his ear. Kneeling, Cody took careful aim and fired his second shot, one that hit the young Cheyenne square in the face and dropped him dead on the brown prairie grass.

While Cody's companions scattered the other six Cheyenne, he ran forward with a bowie knife and stripped the scalp of his dead foe. He later recalled that, swinging the grisly trophy above his head, he cried out in triumph, 'The first scalp for Custer!' And perhaps he did, though no one else on the field that day ever recalled his dramatic oratory afterward.

The warriors still straggling up from the rear began surging forward to see what all the shooting was about. Companies B, I and K of the 5th broke cover, formed line abreast and charged directly toward the oncoming Cheyenne, bugles blaring. The Indians, whose numbers were far, far less than the rumored 1,000, immediately turned and fled in the opposite direction, back toward the Spotted Tail Agency. In their flight, they abandoned blankets and provisions.

The three companies pursued only a short distance, never coming close enough to fire a single shot at their retreating enemy.

http://academic.brooklyn.cuny.edu/geology/chamber/buffbill.gif

http://www.old-picture.com/old-west/pictures/Wild-Bill-Cody.jpg

Sometimes there a bit of truth behind the "legendary exploits". . .

[Gibson]

Well, as David Hume might say, the sketch appears to "have fallen stillborn from the press". . . well, keyboard.

Oh well

[jmort]

Sorry I could not respond sooner as you hard work is appreciated. No excuse, but I have been working long hours and come home late and first thing I do is catch-up with the latest and greatest installment. Obviously Cody was respected as a scout and that says a lot. It appears that he would lead a charge and engage in close quarters combat - that would require bravery beyond most all mere mortals. Sounds like he always had a flair for the dramatic so his show was a logical extension. He could for sure say, "been there, done that."

[Gibson]

Thanks buddy! I needed a little pat on the back.

Stick around a few minutes. Fortified with that post, I'll put up my VERY LATEST. Just finished early am. . .

This ol' boy was tripled distilled tough. Tell me you aren't astounded by the similarities to a scene in "The Unforgiven", 1992 incarnation, of course.

[Gibson]

A legendary figure, Charlie Siringo. . . He was definitely in the arena. Knew them almost all, from Masterson, Allison, Earp, to Tom Horn, and all points in between.

http://www.jcs-group.com/oldwest/ahpeople/siringo.jpg

A true man of the west. We have mentioned him before. He was there. He was engaged in detective work. He gave the only true account concerning Allison and Earp in Dodge City, because he witnessed it. In his later years he wrote many great books. The lead in is from his book "Riata and Spurs":

http://img38.imageshack.us/img38/255/talbot1w.jpg
http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/6004/talbot2.jpg
http://img826.imageshack.us/img826/120/talbot3.jpg

[Gibson]

“Many a cowboy and many a Texan has bitten the dust before Mike Meagher’s steady aim,”

So, goes a dispatch from a Wichita, Kansas newspaper, dateline December 17, 1881.

Meagher had been a good lawman for a good number of years. His first law enforcement job was as marshal of Wichita Kansas in 1871. He was fairly consistently employed in law enforcement for the next decade. He likely killed sevaral men prior to the Talbot-Meagher Gunfight of December 17, 1881. One was a drunken hardcase in Wichita, Sylvester Powell, angry at Meagher for arresting him earlier, took potshots at an outhouse behind Hope's Saloon on January 1, 1877, with Meagher inside. Meagher was severely wounded and later shot Powell to death. Another occurred in Caldwell. He moved there in April of 1880 and immediately opened a saloon. But in no time, he was made mayor of the town and his first act was to replace the entire police force. Not good for the officers. . . One of the replaced was Marshal George Flatt, who quite obviously took offense and soon began to badmouth the city administration. In June, Flatt was found shot to death. Meagher and the entire police force was arrested for the murder, but no one was convicted of the crime. Meagher very likely took care of this man. It appears that he killed up to six men in gunfights, possibly. Meagher could have been a model for Matt Dillon.

Let's give the Powell and Meagher gunfight a bit more attention, shall we?

Meagher enforced the law VERY much like Matt Dillon. No nonsense, no favorites. Sylvester Powell was a stagecoach driver who had for some odd reason decided to liberate a horse from a hitching post that was then property of another man. BAD IDEA. The owner stood dumbfounded for a moment and then walked over and asked Powell if he lost his mind; trying to steal his horse in broad daylight right in front of him. Powell responded with a sixgun; he jammed his revolver into fellows face who promptly turned and fled to the law. Mike Meagher. Well, you can guess what Dillon, uh, Meagher did. That's correct, he marched right out into the street and confronted Powell who was in full possession of the stolen horseflesh. Now, Mr. Powell somehow decided that discretion was the better part of valor. Put simply, he knew damned well not to yank that smokewagon out on Meagher. Mike simply snatched him and carted him off to jail. He intended to leave him there for trial. No such luck! The stage line operator showed up at the jail later in the evening and presented the jailer with paperwork signed by the judge showing he had paid Powell's bail. He released him.

Powell immediately heads for a watering hole and starts downing scamper juice like he's been in the desert for a month. When he had drank himself up enough guts, he went looking for Meagher. Funny, he had been face to face with him earlier in the day. . . Much like a scene from "The Unforgiven", Powell followed Meagher down the alley beside Hope's Saloon. When Meagher hit the outhouse, Powell unleashed a lead curtain on him, through the front door. Assuming him dead, Powell walked up to front door of the outhouse and started to ease it open. Guess what? Meagher kicked the door open and stood there bloodied but clearly unbowed. He had been hit badly in the leg, a through and through that fortunately missed the bone. Powell freaked out and started backing away, he busted off another round that went through Meagher's left hand. Mike then swung into action and threw an off balanced shot that barely missed Powell. He was in terrible pain from the hand wound and Powell was retreating. Powell now burst into a full sprint! Meagher hobbling along behind him. Relentless.

Our bushwhacker now fled back down the alley and tuned onto Douglas Street. Here he slowed as he figured he had escaped, whiskey courage had disappeared. Then he hears the stern intonation, "Powell"! Yep, Mike Meagher is right behind him. He spins as fast as he can drawing as he turns but Meagher is quicker. Mike Meagher has sent Powell to the undertaker for cotton and pennies. Shot him squarely through the ticker. He hit the ground dead.

Mike Meagher and his brother, Mike on left:

http://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/graphics/meagher_mike_and_john.jpg

Caldwell, Kansas 1880s:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Caldwell,%20Kansas,%201880s-500.jpg

For a month prior to December 17, 1881 Jim Talbot, a Texas cowboy and his cronies, to include, Jim Martin, Bob Bigtree, Tom Love, Bob Munson, Dick Eddleman, and "Comanche Bill” Mankin, had been staying in Caldwell. These men had been raising hell the whole time but the apex of it occurred on December 16 at Caldwell's Opera House.

Stay tuned. . .

[Gibson]

So let's let a REAL historian tell some of the tale. My jackleg attempts are too full of old country-*** boy idiom.

Here is how James Reasoner in his book "Draw" tells the tale of the Talbot-Meagher Gun battle. (Just between us I'd still rather read Charlie Siringo's recounting. Just too cool to read a guy who was there telling you about stuff!.) But for your reading enjoyment. The bloody battle recounted is recounted by Reasoner.

[Let me again say that Meagher recovered and again say Powell never quite recovered :) Mike left the area and relocated in Caldwell. As stated, he was in short order appointed mayor. And again as said, he relieved the pitiful excuse for a police force of their jobs. Then Talbot and his group of cowboys showed up and began to hoo-rah the town for a month. They kept it to a dull roar until the night of December 16th.]

Caldwell's Opera House:

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-kansas/Caldwell%20Kansas%20Opera%20House.jpg

Reasoner:

http://img189.imageshack.us/img189/7312/talbot4.jpg
http://img707.imageshack.us/img707/6576/talbot5.jpg

http://www.legendsofamerica.com/photos-oldwest/A%20dash%20for%20timber,%20Frederic%20Remington,%2 01889.jpg

Addenda from legendsofamerica.com:

"A coroner’s jury returned a verdict that Mike Meagher was murdered by Jim Talbot, and that Bob Bigtree, Jim Martin, Tom Love, Dick Eddleman, Bob Munson, and Doug Hill, were accessories to the crime. Dead or alive rewards totaling $1100 were offered for the capture of the men.

Later, Tom Love was captured, but on January 24, 1882, was acquitted. Love went on to become a lawman, who would later help to track down outlaw Bill Cook, a.k.a., The Cherokee Kid. Eddleman was also captured but was never convicted. Five years later, in 1887, Doug Hill was brought back from Texas. He plead guilty to manslaughter in the fourth degree, and received a sentence of six months in the county jail.

Jim Talbot was finally arrested in California in 1895 and returned to Kansas. However, his first trial ended in a hung jury and the second in acquittal.

Talbot returned to California and the next summer was gunned down by an unknown assailant. Some believe the killer may have been Mike Meagher's twin brother, John."

Alleyway where Meagher was killed:

http://donm.smugmug.com/Travel/4th-of-July-2011/i-VdzNgt6/1/L/IMG2846-L.jpg

Historic Marker:

http://donm.smugmug.com/Travel/4th-of-July-2011/i-CGhQL5K/0/L/IMG2841-L.jpg

Now let me see if I can get this old newspaper to copy and paste for you guys. . .

NYT 1895:

http://img543.imageshack.us/img543/2310/talbot6.jpg
http://img825.imageshack.us/img825/757/talbot7.jpg

That is all of the article that was present but it's solid piece of history!

I'm telling you boys those were some tough men.

[Gibson]

Now then. That'll get the blood to pumpin'.

Refresh page if you just looked moments ago as I had to fix the Frederick Remington image of a posse chasing outlaws and corrected typos and verb tense, as well as left out words. Sorry.

[9.3X62AL]

Much appreciated, Gibson! I look forward to these additions each time I log on.

[Gibson]

Much appreciated, Gibson! I look forward to these additions each time I log on.

You bet. Guys like you, jmortimer, and the others really make it worth my while. Hell, I know an old law enforcement fellow such as yourself can appreciate a guy like Mike Meagher.

I had to find that newspaper article, then download it as a .pdf, then use my "snipping tool" to snip it into two files, then save the snips as files, then upload the snips to my son's "imageshack" account, then copy and paste the link adding image tags, to the post. But it seems worth it to me to share it with you fellows.

[waksupi]

I'm going to have to take a day off, just to read all of the great stories here. Fascinating!

[9.3X62AL]

I'm in debt to you, Gibson--and I really appreciate the labor and effort investing in bringing these accounts to light. I know just enough about compilation and editing to be a certified danger to any site, so I avoid those sorts of projects without a couple daughters looking on to keep me from crashing and bashing things galley-west.

[Gibson]

Tomorrow will be the first train Robbery. Pulled off by the Reno brothers gang in 1866.

Let's see some comments!

[waksupi]

Something else you may want to add into the mix of evil, are the Confederate prisoner of war camp commanders Wirz, and Winder. They managed to kill a lot of men in ways more cruel that the Nazis. I remember them from reading "Andersonville".

[Mike.44]

Old Mike was a tough hombre indeed! I am a Deputy Sheriff myself and am proud of these old guys. Makes me rethink every time I walk into our jail with 3,000 prisoners......watch yer back sonny!

Thanks Gibson.......this is the first place I come to when I log on.

[Gibson]

Such inhumanity as you mention is beyond belief. I am really ignorant of the truth of much of it.

Besides dragging in Civil War prison camp commanders would require one to talk about the sadistic inhuman unionist filth that ran places like Point Lookout (Camp Hoffman) and Rock Island and Elmira and Camp Douglas, etc. One would have to dig into Elmira and, for example, Lieutenant Colonel William H. Hoffman, a vile sadist now surely burning in hell. And look at how they charged 15 cents for the good citizens of the area to watch Confederates shivering and freezing to death in the camp at Elmira: seeing these wretched skeletons lay in the snow and die. . . how wonderfully entertaining. . .

Wirz, Winder, Hoffman, James Barnes (Point Lookout), et. al. are all in a warm spot in hell, I hope.

There is NEVER any shortage of inhumanity in a civil war, by all involved. The difference is that the victor gets to tell the story.

Personally, I had relatives who fought on BOTH sides in the US Civil WAR. But my heart will ALWAYS be a southern heart.

It is just sad for all parties, isn't it. . . I do apologize for not knowing enough about the topic.

[smilie=s:

[Gibson]

Old Mike was a tough hombre indeed! I am a Deputy Sheriff myself and am proud of these old guys. Makes me rethink every time I walk into our jail with 3,000 prisoners......watch yer back sonny!

Thanks Gibson.......this is the first place I come to when I log on.

You betcha Mike. BTW: There is more on Mike Meagher. Suffice it to say, he met his death with his eyes pointed in the right direction. Did you notice how old Charlie Siringo spoke of him? First post, where Siringo begins, "The writer saw Mike Meagher's courage tested one night in 1876 at 'Rowdy Joe's' dance-hall in Wichita." Siringo was there and watched Meagher face a guy down who had a shotgun and had already shot one man in the face with it.

Have I posted on Jeff Milton, here?

That was a full on lawman! Over 50 years! in the law enforcement. Let me check and see if I have posted that sketch.

More on Mike Meagher, from "Deadly Days in Kansas" by Wayne C. Lee:

http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/7973/talbot8.jpg

Back shot.

[Gibson]

Mike.44 has persuaded me to post up on Jeff Milton, we'll address those scalawag Reno Brothers afterwards.

I'm going to go with Jeff Milton because, as we all know, he was "A Good Man With A Gun"! ;)

http://i.ebayimg.com/t/J-Evetts-Haley-JEFF-MILTON-Texas-Rangers-COWBOY-Lawman-/02/!B73nr3w!mk~$(KGrHqV,!hsEzMl!gCfOBM1ebqnNkw~~0_35. JPG

http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oEQ2jC0iSkw/SUVgq5kKaNI/AAAAAAAACmk/LODsA481Kw8/s320/jeffmilton.jpg

You see that book image above? That is written by a true blue Texican! One, J. Evitts Haley. He hated LBJ worse than a root canal. He was a dyed in the wool, REAL conservative and seemed almost certain that LBJ was the anti-Christ. Smart, tough, well read, and had more than a few coins to rub together. I wish I'd have gotten to meet him.

Hey! Just found that wiki has a page on him. Checks out, mostly with what I was told of him by people who knew him well.

"In 1929, Haley published The XIT Ranch of Texas and the Early Days of the Llano Estacado. Accused of libel in a dozen lawsuits, Haley was compelled in 1931 to withdraw the book from circulation and to pay the plaintiffs $17,500 to settle all pending claims. He defended his work in which he had exposed "outlaws" and even made a trip into Mexico to authenticate a particular point in question.[1] The XIT Ranch, based in Dalhart, covered parts of ten counties in the Texas Panhandle and West Texas. The book was later returned to circulation.

In 1937, Haley became manager of the Zeebar Cattle Company in Arizona. He also purchased a small ranch of his own in Hutchinson County near Borger in the northern Panhandle. He owned another ranch near Sequoyah, Oklahoma. He also managed the Atarque and Clochintoh ranches in New Mexico. On the death of his father, he inherited the Haley Ranch in Loving and Winkler counties. In 1943, he published George W. Littlefield, Texan, a biography of cattleman George W. Littlefield, for whom the city of Littlefield in Lamb County is named. He followed with Charles Schreiner (1944), Jeff Milton, A Good Man with a Gun (1948), and Fort Concho and the Texas Frontier (1952), a reference to an early fortification in San Angelo.[1]"

I found a true 1st ed. of "The XIT Ranch of Texas and the Early Days of the Llano Estacado" that was immaculate in Atlanta on a book hunt once. Never could get them to come down in price enough though. . .

[Gibson]

Guns used by Jeff Milton over a half century of law enforcement (with one exception below, these not the exact guns but they are the exact serial numbers, the guns are just examples of the same gun Jeff used, the Colt SAA below is his actual gun):

Serial # 354820

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/39/Winchester_Model_1897_1490.jpg

Serial # 36549

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/5e/M1887_LH.JPG

Serial # 50896

http://www.gunandgame.com/forums/attachments/shotguns/6180d1192390245-need-help-lc-smith-sxs-12-ga-hammer-gun-1013071904.jpg


He owned at least three Colt's SAA revolvers:

Serial # 262638 a .38-40

Serial # 328993 in .44-40 A Colt Frontier Six Shooter

And this, his exact gun:

http://jamesdjulia.com/auctions/327/images/lrg/46362x1.jpg

Serial # 15224?

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fc/1866_winchester_%27yellow_boy%27.jpg

[Gibson]

For illustration. This is how TOUGH Jeff Milton was. In November of 1917, he had ~40 years of law enforcement behind him, was within a few days of being 56 years old and effectively had only one arm.

"As late as 1917 he still used his gun. On November 3rd of that year he puttered into Tombstone, Arizona in a Ford right when a bank robbery was happening. Banker T.R. Brandt was killed. Milton steered the Ford after the culprit Fred Koch. Two miles later Milton and his partner Guy Welch caught up. Milton jumped out of the car and shot Koch in the arm with a .38.

Jeff Milton proved how tough he was by a lifetime of danger. He died in 1947 at the age of 85 in Tombstone."

As tough as a two dollar steak :)

The would-be robber, Fred Koch, was somewhat simple minded. He fled the bank afoot, after mortally wounding the banker. To his surprise the wounded man came from the vault bearing a scattergun. Koch parted the doorway in a dead run. While puttering into town astride his sewing machine, AKA T Model Ford :) we have Jeff Milton. Milton, moving toward 60, still had the instincts of a lawman and instantly swung into action. He rolled over and picked up the sheriff and then putted out of town hot on Koch's trail. Within a mile or so they caught up but neither man had secured a rifle. So, Jeff plowed out of the old Ford and yelled at Koch to "STOP!" Well, I suppose Koch said to him himself, 'nuttin' from nuttin' leab nuttin'', and decided to keep hoofing it. Bad Mistake. Old Jeff pulled up his .38 and cut drive on him and "dropped him in a heap". Shot through the arm, he was easily captured. They loaded him into the Ford and chugged back into town. Milton had to stand guard over the simpleton until the townsfolk calmed. Koch was later placed in an asylum.

Isn't that an example of real lawman? I mean the simpleton had killed a prominent citizen in the commission of a felony. Yet Milton brings him back alive and THEN stands guard on him the entire night to keep him from being lynched. AND I GUARANTEE YOU THEY WOULD HAVE LYNCHED HIM. It seems that Jeff operated by a code, doesn't it. . .

Stay tuned. . .

[Gibson]

"It was a great country [Texas]. And just to think of what a man my age could have done if he had the sense of a louse. But I was a young buck who didn't give a damn whether school kept or not. I had a good time and I always kept one hundred dollars to bury myself if I should die."

So said the victor of many gun battles; the killer of numerous men. He was reflecting on his early years in that still untamed state known as Texas. Milton had left home at 16-17 years of age and went straight to the Lone Star State. Immediately getting work as a cowboy and shortly thereafter joining with the Texas Rangers. He attained the rank of corporal before leaving the Rangers. Evidently he had killed a couple of men and was tried but completely exonerated and shortly left the Rangers and took a job as a cowtown sheriff.

The man was a involved in many shootouts. Fact. Someday we'll come back and cover those. He was involved with Hardin and Harvey Logan among others.

We want to take a look at what happened on February 15, 1900.

[gunseller]

Doesit look bad to see that I have logged onto this site just to see if I have missed anything. That is how I start my day and end it that way. Thanks for what you are doing.
Steve

[jmort]

"Meagher hobbling along behind him. Relentless"

Nothing funny about being wounded in an outhouse but I like to picture Mike Meagher "running" down Sylvester Powell and ending it once and for all. That quote above sums it up nicely. Glad to see that Jim Talbot got his in the end. I like the moniker given to Talbot "Cowboy King." Seems he had it all, "Handsome, tall, fearless" and he married the "prettiest girl in the southwest." Sounds like one cool bad guy. As usual, great reading, larger than life characters, and history that should not be forgotten. Now I have to catch-up with the latest installment. Thanks