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".
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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".
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.
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:
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.
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-Hale...nNkw~~0_35.JPG
http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oEQ2jC0iSk...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. . .
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/wikipedi..._1897_1490.jpg
Serial # 36549
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...e/M1887_LH.JPG
Serial # 50896
http://www.gunandgame.com/forums/att...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/...rg/46362x1.jpg
Serial # 15224?
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedi...low_boy%27.jpg
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. . .
"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.
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
"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
"At the turn of the century, 38-year-old Milton had been in the middle of gunfire off and on for two decades. On February 15, 1900, his toughness would be tested like never before.
Milton was working as an express car guard on a train. As evening approached, the train pulled into Fairbank, Arizona. Outside, a dangerous band of outlaws jumped on the train as it slowed. The five bandits were Three-Fingered Jack Dunlap, George and Louis Owens, Bravo Juan Yoas, and Bob Brown. They were members of the Burt Alvord gang.
Alvord was one of those frontier characters who worked proficiently on both sides of the law. Then 34, Alvord had already served four years as a deputy under John Slaughter starting at age 20. He had witnessed the shootout near OK Corral in Tombstone and the lynching of John Heath. With Slaughter, he had tracked down a number of outlaws. Alvord was still a lawman, a constable, when he masterminded his gang on this February day.
Jeff Milton had no idea of developments outside as he stood guard. His first clue came with a flurry of gunshots. Some of the flying fusillade shattered his left arm. It happened so fast Milton was separated from his shotgun. Struggling to recover, he scurried to the gun and blasted away. He hit Dunlap with 11 buckshot. Another slug caught Yoas in the seat of his pants.
Milton's arm was bleeding profusely. He knew his lifeblood was leaking on the floor. His only chance was to stop the flow. He quickly rigged up a tourniquet, applied it, then noticed the car's open door. He forced his way over to it and slammed it shut just in time to block shots as the outlaws sent another volley his direction.
He was still thinking of his duties as the train's guard as he grew weak from the loss of blood. He figured the outlaws still might break into the car for the money, so he hid the key. Then he passed out.
He had figured right. The remaining three outlaws forced the engineer to open the express door. But they couldn't open the safe. Enraged and frustrated, they left penniless.
Though seriously wounded, Jeff Milton recovered after several months in a hospital. But he never regained the use of his arm."
So states a 2001 article by Tom S. Coke. . .
http://www.arizonaghosttowntrails.co.../fairbank1.gif
Fairbanks now:
http://www.arizonaghosttowntrails.co.../fairbanks.jpg
Now from the site arizonaghosttowntrails.com
"Billy Stiles and Burt Alvord, both deputy sheriffs, who yo-yoed between playing lawmen and outlaws, joined up with the Owen brothers, Bravo Juan Yaos, Bob Brown, and Three-Fingered Jack Dunlap. Their mission was to rob the Wells Fargo express box when the train arrived at the Fairbank railroad station.
The train pulled into the station and as the crowd was milling about the outlaws mingled with the crowd, pretending to be drunken cowboys. Milton was standing in the open door of the baggage car when the outlaws opened fire with lever-action Winchesters, shattering his left arm and severing an artery. Unable to return fire because of the innocent by-standers Milton grabbed his shotgun and awaited his chance. The outlaws took the opportunity to charge the train in all the confusion and were met with buckshot. Three-finger Jack was caught in the chest and died shortly after confessing who the gang members were. Bravo Juan took a load of buckshot in his pants as he went the other direction. Milton slammed the door shut, tossing the keys into a corner of the baggage car. He stayed conscious just long enough to make a tourniquet for his nearly severed arm, then collapsed unconscious between two large trunks, which fortunately saved his life as the remaining three outlaws riddled the baggage car with bullets.
When the firing stopped the outlaws opened the door of the baggage car and found Milton lying in a pool of blood. Believing him to be dead they searched his body for the keys but were unable to find them. Frustrated, the outlaws mounted their horses and rode away. The gang was later caught and served lengthy prison sentences. Medical care for Jeff Milton in Fairbank was limited, so he was moved to San Francisco for hospitalization and specialized treatment. When told an arm would have to be amputated, Milton went into a rage, vowing he would kill any doctor who amputated his arm. Milton won the argument. The shattered arm served him well in his later activities as a U.S. Immigration Service border rider."
Finally, in a recent work entitled "Arizona Gunfighters" we have Milton being shot, then firing both barrels using one arm and killing Three-Fingered Jack and wounding Bravo Juan.
http://www.clandunlop.com/New_Folder/robbers.gif
My take:
The outlaws ran into lawman Jeff Milton who was guarding a Wells Fargo shipment on the Southern Pacific railroad line. Jeff was armed with a 10 gauge shotgun, loaded with buckshot. I believe that Jeff took the first round and received a DEVASTATING wound. He braces the shotgun into his right arm and unloaded 11 pellets into Dunlop, mortally wounding him. Then he cut down on Yoas shooting him smack in the *** as he fled.
The rest of the accounts seem in agreement.
A final quote from AZOFFROAD.NET add a bit of detail to round out the ending. . .
"Three Fingered Jack was ditched by the others and was found in the brush 9 miles away. He lived only long enough to confess and give the names of his accomplices; they were later caught and served very lengthy prison sentences. As for Milton, he was rushed to San Francisco for medical treatment. Doctors thought they’d have to amputate his arm but with the threat that “any man who cut’s off my arm will be a dead man”, they saved it. "
Frankly this event is a blip on the screen of a life that was covered in honor. He killed many a man but he claimed that they all needed it. Probably true.
Any LEOs reading this thread should feel a little pride in old JEFFERSON DAVIS MILTON!
For what it's worth his pop was the governor of Florida at one time. . . well, the Confederate Governor.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Milton was as rough as a cob, eh?
Can you just picture him rolling out of that old Ford bringing the heat to bear on Koch? LOL!
Regular readers, chime in.
How about I tell a tale of Hickok's first scrap? Let me know.
Great stuff! I love the Old West and its history.
It's always a bit refreshing when the real truth gets told rather than the revisionist history that is taught now. But, I suppose it was convenient for the northern aggressors to tout freeing the slaves as the reason, rather than telling the truth. I believe it was something more along the lines of a tyrant named Lincoln trampling states rights.
Tonight it will be Wild Bill at Rock Creek Station.
James Butler Hickok was 24 when the incident occurred.
http://www.nebraskahistory.org/image...-B-station.jpg
Nice work, as always. Jeff Milton definitely had all the bark on.
Truth is the first casualty of many wars.
On November 26, 1938, the WPA project interviewed F. J. Elliot of Wilbur, Nebraska. Mr. Elliot was born in 1861 and of the three versions one commonly sees, his steers more to the middle.
Taken from: http://lcweb2.loc.gov/wpa/16082611.html
"Bill Hickok- [McCaules?] Affair
By F. G. Elliott
'For a long time now many people have been very much interested in getting the straight of this, famous mixup of the long ago, which occurred at the old McCaules home just southeast of what is now Fairbury, on July 11, 1861.
We, like others, were interested too and for some time have been gathering every account we could get, talked to people who's father and mother lived there at the time, visited the scene of the conflict several times and read old history, but for all that the absolute certainty of the facts are [?] and our honest opinion is that the real facts never will be known.
The last living witness of the affair, William McCaules, a son of the one killed was then 12 years of age (He, too, has just passed on). Just a few years ago he first brought out the story as he told it. In our opinion his waiting until all those who knew the facts and the character of these two men, had passed on, has hurt his story we believe.
The ones who take the other side are all honest upright people. They get their story from their fathers and mothers who knew both McCaules and Will Bill.
{Begin page no. 2}The sons and daughters of McCanles are fine people we do not wish to hurt them, neither do the folks who know them, they say Wild Bill was a good law abiding man but all say McCanles was a bad man.
The first account of the affair we take from an old history published about 1882, the author says: "The facts are from S. C. Jenkins and S. J. Alexander, who arrived at the ranch within two hours after the trouble took place and before the bodies were removed and from many others, and reports of Wild Bill's trail.
The facts the author gives are these: Wild Bill at this time was tending stock for the Ben Holiday State Company at Rock Creek station. James McCanles, once owner of the station did not have an enviable reputation, was a southern sympathizer and was trying to raise a company to assist the south. He came to Wild Bill and tried to persuade him to join and turn over the stage company's stock. On his refusal, McCanles threatened to kill him and take the stock. That afternoon McCanles returned with three other men and started to enter the house. Wild Bill shot him. Two of the other men were killed, one got away. At Wild Bill's trial, which was held in Beatrice, no one appeared against him. His plea was self-defence and he was cleared. The historian closed with the following: "It was evident that the design of the men was to take Wild Bill's life or it is most probably that the man who got away would have appeared against Wild Bill at the trial."
The story of the affair as told by Wm. McCanles, Jr., son of David McCanles, killed by Wild Bill, appeared in the Fairbury Journal of Sept, 25, 1930, states this: "Probably the motive for killing was fear. Father had told Mrs. Wellman to tell her husband to come out {Begin deleted text}[?]{End deleted text} {Begin inserted text}{Begin handwritten}[?]Wellmans'{End handwritten}{End inserted text} were the folks {Begin page no. 3}who lived there and kept the station) she said he wouldn't and father said if he wouldn't come out he would go in and drag him out. I think rather than be man-handled, he killed father." It would seem McCanles intends to pound up Wellman. When he said if he didn't come out he would go in and drag him out. This brings out a point that justified the killing of McCanles when he started to force his way into another man's home.
This part of the story by Wm. McCanles bears out the stories told around Fairbury by those who parents knew David McCanles that he was brutal, overbearing. Now the question comes up why did not William McCanles, Jr. appear against Wild Bill at the trial? He was an eye witness and perhaps 12 years of age.
We had a long talk with a man who's name we can not now recall. His folks were neighbors of the McCanles family. Mrs. McCanles often visited with his folks, he had often heard her speak of the affair, she never blamed Wild Bill. Told about Kate Shell who lived at the west station, and kept a store, sold food supplies and whiskey to those going over the old Oregon trail. Mrs. McCanles did not like her but ever once in a while she had to get up a dinner and invite Kate over, then Kate would have a big dinner and McCanles would have to go over there, just had to go!
A while ago, a writer for the Dearborn Independent, Henry Ford's paper wrote up the whole affair, told a lot about the part Kate played and there were never any denials.
Then about the toll bridge. We visited the place where it stood, only a few stones are left now. The logs of which it was made had crumbled to dust or been carried away. Rock Creek is just a little stream and in {Begin deleted text}[?]{End deleted text} crossing one hardly knew that they had crossed a creek. It wasn't a bad {Begin page no. 4}place at all just a little work without a bridge would have made it far better than hundreds of other places on the old trail that they had to cross. But the toll charged for crossing brought in a lot of money to McCanles. To the north a little ways was a good crossing but if the travellers attempted to cross there some one would appear with a gun and insist that they were trespassing and they would have to go back and pay to cross the bridge.
Out in Cannon City, Colorado, where an old friend of ours lives, is a [?], [?] Blancett by name, who's father had a station on the Oregon Trail farther east from the McCanles station. He knew both Wild Bill and McCanles and knew of the Wild Bill, McCanles affair. Later he became a plainsman and a scout. To help pass the time away, he tells of his early day experiences to a friend who writes them up for a Colorado paper, The Sunday Post. In one of the articles appears the following:
"In 1860, my father, my brothers and I were keeping the stage station at Ashpoint, Kansas. He said Wild Bill was inclined to be reticent, talked little of himself or about others, he was a man of action not words. His duty was to guard the cash box on the coach that carried it. I never saw him without his feet off this box. This box was the particular trust of the guard and he was under orders to guard it with his life. Bill handled a pistol with the speed of lightning. When talking, wishing to emphasize something he had a way of throwing his right or left hand towards you with the trigger finger pointed at you. His hands moved with incredible swiftness and I believe he practiced this mannerism with such purpose that it became a part of his nature and probably resulted in making him the fastest two-gun man of his day. He was not a wanton killer and used his guns only {Begin page no. 5}in line of duty. He had plenty of opportunity to kill oftener than he did, knowing that he could start a graveyard at any time and the government would pay all funeral expenses. We never knew him to be intoxicated and never knew him to kill but one man except in line of duty. The exception was a man names McCanles who kept the Rock Creek Station near the little Blue river. The two men got into a dispute, no one seems to know for sure and Bill drew his gun first. My father and McCanles were friends and were both station keepers. In closing, Mr. Blancett says: "Anyone who wanted to make the acquaintance of Wild Bill, and would mind their own business, not get too inquisitive, would find him a perfect gentleman in every way. In those days he was not known as "Wild Bill", that name did not become general until in the early 70's at which time I had lost track of him."
From the Fairbury Journal of sometime ago we take the following: George [?]. Jenkins of Bellingham, Washington was in Fairbury this week accompanied by his wife visiting places of interest with which he was familiar in an early day. Mr. Jenkins is a son of the late [?.?.] Jenkins, who came through here in 1858 and brought his family out here to live in 1859, remaining until 1884. His family was the first to permanently locate in this country. George [?]. Jenkins was born in the house where Wild Bill killed McCanles, year of birth, 1864. His father [?]. C. Jenkins, were the second county superintendent of schools, Justice of the Peace and county commissioner and member of the Legislature. Referring to the McCanles tragedy he recalls hearing his father and mother tell about it many times. Jenkins says his father told him McCanles had made threats to run off livestock from the ranches of the settlers for the benefit of the Confederacy and that {Begin page no. 6}the settlers were organized to resist such attempts, that his mother expressed extreme relief when the news reached them that McCanles had been killed, that his father helped bury the bodies of McCanles, Woods and Gordon, what the talk always was at the Jenkin's home that McCanles was a wild reckless man and a Southern sympathizer."
Another story published in the DeWitt Times News, a few years ago covers a little different phase and was told by the foreman of the state stations.
This man tells it about this way: "At the time of this affair I was at a station farther west and reached this station just as Wild Bill was getting ready to go to Beatrice for his trial. He wanted me to {Begin inserted text}/go{End inserted text} with him and as we started on our way imagine my surprise and uncomfortable feeling when he announced his intention of stopping at the McCanles home. I would have rather been some where else, but Bill stopped. He told Mrs. McCanles he was sorry he had to kill her man then took out $35.00 and gave her saying: "This is all I have, sorry I do not have more to give you." We drove on to Beatrice and at the trail, his plea was self-defence, no one appeared against him and he was cleared. The trail did not last more than fifteen minutes.
From an old history of La Salle County, Illinois we take the following: [W?]. A. Hickok, father of Wild Bill came here from Grand Isle County, Vermont to Union Grove, [?] County, Illinois in 1833, June 16, 1834, to Baileys point with Rev [?]. Gould and Isaac Fredenburg then to Troy Grove, La Salle county in Nov. 1836, was deacon of the Presbyterian church, opened the first store kept at Homer. He was a worthy man and died may 5, {Begin deleted text}1852.{End deleted text} {Begin inserted text}{Begin handwritten}1852{End handwritten}{End inserted text}
{Begin page no. 7}His widow, a much respected woman and three sons were left, Lorenzo, Hiram and Bill. James P. "Wild Bill," born and raised at Troy Grove became notorious on the western frontier and won the name of "Wild Bill." A man over six feet tall, lithe and active. He was more than a match for the roughs he met on the debatable ground between civilized and savage life and is said to have often killed his man; at one time he is said to have killed four men in 60 seconds--they were on his track seeking his life. He served with Jim Lane in the Kansas troubles. Was elected constable while a miner in Kansas. Was for two years U. S. Marshall at Abilene, Kansas and was regarded as a very efficient and reliable officer. He was killed at Deadwood, S. D. August 2, 1876 while playing cards. His assailant came silently behind him and shot him in the head. His murderer was tried by a mob jury and acquitted, but later was arrested under forms of law, convicted and hung.
When we first came to Nebraska we were set by difficulties. The country was already inhabited by several billion prairie dogs. The Indians weren't much of an obstacle when you compare them to the prairie dogs who seemed to be everywhere and didn't like the idea of us moving in on their territory. They were so thick, that they were always running in to each other, and looking over the broad prairies all you could see was millions {Begin deleted text}[?]{End deleted text} and millions of the curious yapping creatures, scuttling in and out of their holes.
Everytime we would build a fence or plant our crops we would have to first drive these prairie dogs away. They were wise little creatures and let us have a space of ground for our own crops so we wouldn't starve.
{Begin page no. 8}In those days mirages on the prairie were frequent. Many an old settler was lost because of a mirage he had seen and had turned out to be a false vision. And the mirage was what saved Nebraska from the prairie dogs.
One day on the prairie there appeared a mirage of a large city. It happened about noon one hot day. I was standing out by my well with about a million prairie dogs around me. Suddenly, there appeared a vision of a large city in the distance. I knew it was a mirage but the prairie dogs didn't.
Now these billions of prairie dogs had been taking care of me seeing that I didn't progress very far on my claim and when they turned and saw that a city had been built (they thought) behind their backs, they just fell over and died with mortification. That is, most {Begin inserted text}{Begin handwritten}/of{End handwritten}{End inserted text} them did.
One time, at Swan City, Nebraska in the early seventies, was a blacksmith named, Jud Smith. Jud was pretty good at telling stories about how great his ancestors were. Jud didn't say anything about their brain power but he did boast plenty about their strength. Jud said his grandfather was so strong that he sued to spike his whiskey in good strong ale and it was nothing for him to have a quart of whiskey as an appetizer for breakfast. When he went on a drunk he always downed at least five gallons of whiskey. He said his granddad was so strong he never used a [hammer?] to drive [nails?] in a horses hoof but always used his bare fist. One time a cyclone hit the town and Jud's grandfather held his house, with one hand, so it wouldn't blow away. If there were any iron bars to bend, Jud's grandpap didn't waste any time heating but bent them over his knee. One had to be careful around Jud's granddad but because if he had to [be and a person?] {Begin page no. 9}was caught in the path of his sneeze he was like or not to be blown across the town.
One time they had shot putting contest using cannon balls as the shot. When it came Jud's grandad's turn to cast the iron ball he picked it up and letting out a grunt which scared the horses all over town, he let it loose, the ball disappearing in the clouds. The ball was never found although the people wondered then they read in the papers the next week about a strange ball had been found buried on the Capitol grounds at Washington, D. C.'"
We shall next examine the Rock Creek Incident and set it out in a rough sketch, as to what I suppose occurred.
http://www.nebraskahistory.org/image...-McCanless.jpg
http://www.nebraskahistory.org/image...-D-hickock.jpg
http://www.thecommunitypaper.com/arc...er02-19-09.jpg
So what REALLY occurred? Well, there are two other singular versions. Hickok's and the young son of David McCanles, William McCanles Jr.'s.
Both are very likely apocryphal. Hickok's self serving and McCanles' colored by an abiding fondness for his father.
Here's the situation as I see it:
Rock Creek Station was first established in 1857.
"Back in 1857, along the Oregon and California trails, Rock Creek Station, near what is now Fairbury, Nebraska, was put together by a pioneer by the name of S.C. Glenn. The “station” consisted of little more than a cabin, a barn, and a make-shift store, where Glenn sold limited supplies, hay and grain.
Located along the west bank of Rock Creek, the station served as a supply center and resting spot for the many travelers headed westward in the 19th century.
In the spring of 1859 a gent by the name of David C. McCanles, along with his brother, James, had been on their way to the Colorado gold fields. One thing wrong with that plan. David and his brother kept meeting returning miners, all of whom had sad tales of woe. No gold, just lots of blisters and empty pockets.
David and his brother decided a right smart thing to do was avoid all that hard work and instead of prospecting for hard- to-find gold, set up a business that relieved emigrants of all descriptions, of their money. So, David bought the Rock Creek Station from Mr. Glenn in the month of March. Not only did McCanles continue to operate the store but he built a toll bridge across the creek.
He had watched as pioneers had to lift and lower their wagons down into the creek before pulling them up on the other side. McCanles figured correctly that if he built a bridge, pioneers would be glad to pay the requisite toll of 10 cents to 50 cents, depending upon the size of their load and their ability to pay.
The toll charged for crossing Rock Creek brought in a lot of money to McCanles. To the north a little ways was a good crossing but if the travelers attempted to cross there some one would appear with a gun and insist that they were trespassing and they would have to go back and pay to cross the bridge. McCanles also built a cabin and dug a well on the east side of Rock Creek which became known as the East Ranch.
The following year, McCanles leased the East Ranch to the Russell, Waddell, and Majors Company, which owned the Overland Stage Company and founded the Pony Express. They installed Horace G. Wellman as their company agent and station keeper and hired James W. “Doc” Brink as a stock tender. Later, the company made arrangements from McCanles to buy the station with a cash down payment and the remainder in installments."
James Butler Hickok was employed as a stock tender by the station (Russell, Waddell, and Majors Company). At least one account gives him other duties, to wit, guarding a Coach's cash box. Who knows?
What I take as the genesis of the event is the overbearing and bullying nature of David McCanles. It seems clear that he was despised by many. However Hickok's alleged version paints him as a thief and at the head of a brutal gang. False. (Bear in mind that his account was written by someone else and certainly could have been dressed up by the writer.)
The other main ingredient was a woman, (ain't it always?) "Kate" Shull. She was a mistress of McCanles and evidently she had an eye for Hickok. McCanles was thought it funny to poke fun at Hickok's appearance call him "Duck Bill" because of his nose, among other things, Hickok was not amused. "Wild Bill" decided to exact some revenge by taking up with "Kate".
McCanles was a rather greedy man. He had sold his "toll bridge at 3 different times. He would write into the contract some asinine clause and when it was overlooked and not complied with, he'd seize the bridge back from the buyer and sell it again! Such was the state of affairs when Wild Bill came into picture in early May 1861.
As mentioned the situation with McCanles was becoming intolerable with the folks who ran the Station as well as others in the area. McCanles kept in character and started in on Bill just after he hired in as a stock tender. Bill responded by taking up with McCanles' mistress and the trouble was inevitable.
"In the meantime, the Overland Stage Company had fallen behind on their installment payments and on July 12, 1861, McCanles, along with his 12 year-old son, Monroe, and two friends by the names of James Woods and James Gordon came to the station to inquire upon the status of the installments."
In the above quote, I think it is safe to read his inquiry as a demand for payment. In my opinion his biggest mistake that day was thinking he could bully an armed Hickok's employer, when coupled with the fact that he had clearly taunted Bill as well. Lethal error.
Most all accounts have McCanles and his two employees as unarmed. I have no idea but just wonder if they would go to the place knowing the situation, unarmed. Odd, if true. If they weren't, then they should have armed themselves. Because the Wild Bill legend is about to rain death on them as it is being born. It has to be noted that maybe they weren't expecting trouble and thought rage and bullying would do the trick, as they had the boy along.
McCanles along with his son and employees stepped up to the door and were greeted by Jane Wellman, station manager Horace's wife. He demanded to see Horace but the wife put him off. Thinking quickly McCanles inquired about a drink of water, and was ushered into the cabin. This is where it gets strange. . .
Some accounts have Hickok standing in the shadow of a curtain while others have him and McCanles dialoging which took only a sentence or two to lead to TROUBLE. I suspect that McCanles greeted Hickok in some manner and then basically told him that they issue did not concern him and that it was Wellman who he wanted. It then seems likely Bill made a short retort and Wellman then dropped the water ladle as Bill grabbed a rifle from the corner. (Strange thing is that it may well have a rifle loaned by McCanles to Wellman for defense of the station.)
In a flash, Hickok dropped the hammer on McCanles, game over. Bill discarded the rifle and grabbed his Colt's revolver from his waistband and headed for the doorway. " Hearing the blast, Woods and Gordon rushed toward the cabin, but Woods was stopped with Hickok's Colt revolver. In the meantime, Wellman bludgeoned him with a hoe, until he died. Gordon, who was also wounded by gunfire, fled to the creek, but was followed by Doc Brink, the station’s stock tender, who killed him with a blast from his shotgun. Monroe dodged a blow from Wellman’s hoe and escaped to his home some three miles south."
There was a trial. It lasted 15 minutes. Hickok was declared not guilty. See the story in the first post about Hickok stopping and giving the McCanles widow his last dime and an apology. . .
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That "Bill of Costs" is fascinating. Anything about Wild Bill is good stuff. Does not seem he did anything wrong, either that or it was good riddance to the "victims." Finally caught-up and as always top drawer. It is nice to know that you care about history and your sourcing and graphics add so much more. Right now I've been reading about President James K. Polk and the western expansion. It all fits together nicely. Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all this hard work.