Wyatt Earp: The Life Behind the Legend

by Casey Tefertiller

  But the Mexican smugglers did complain. On the evening of the attack several from the party showed up at the door of Commandant Neri, who quickly transmitted details to Governor Torres and other Mexican officials. The four men killed became a cause celebre in Mexico. Dead were Miguel Tarazona, Joaquin Montano, Jose Samaniego, and Reinaldo Samaniego, murdered by what Torres called "Texan Cow-boys." Mexican consul Vicente Morales protested angrily to Acting Governor Gosper: "I take the liberty of requesting Yr. Exc. to use all the means at your command in order to effect the extermination of those who lay waste whole districts of my country, murder my countrymen and rob them when they come to contribute to the commerce of this Territory. "41

  Torres wrote to Gosper demanding retribution, and rumors passed through southern Arizona of impending Mexican retaliation. "The citizens ... and troops are after the cowboys and are disposed to take summary vengeance if they overtake them," the Tucson Citizen reported.42 No names were mentioned in either the official documents or the newspapers, but Curley Bill and John Ringo were the usual suspects for any such raids.

  The cowboys struck again about a week later, this time far closer to home, just a few miles outside Charleston. The August 13 Epitaph, under the headline "The Murdering Cowboys," told of a pack train of three Mexican soldiers who were returning from buying supplies in Tombstone with merchandise and about a thousand dollars in gold and silver:

  When this latter party got above Hereford, and about half way to Ochoaville, they were set upon by a party of five cow-boys, who fired mortally wounding one of the Mexicans and killing one of the horses. They took a rifle and one package of goods and it is supposed killed the one who had the money, as he had not up to last evening been seen or heard from since the encounter. It is said that the Mexican who escaped recognized one of the bandits having seen him in Tombstone the day before.

  Grown bold with the deeds of crime they have committed between here and Deming, and their merciless murders at Fronteras, these outlaws, having no fears of the civil authorities, have taken up the San Pedro valley as their head-quarters, knowing that there is a large travel between Benson, Contention, Tombstone, Charleston and Bisbee, besides the Mexican travel from Sonora to these points. It will be seen from the foregoing that they have made a good beginning and unless immediate steps are taken by the citizens to rid the county of these outlaws there will be no more protections to life and property between Benson and the Sonora line than there has been in the San Simon and eastward for the last year. When the civil authorities are insufficient or unwilling to protect a community the people are justified in taking the law into their own hands and ridding themselves of the dangerous characters who make murder and robbery their business. It remains to be seen how much longer such damnable acts as Fronteras massacre and the San Pedro murders shall go unpunished.43

  The cowboys had antagonized the government of Mexico, and protests were flowing from Hermosillo to Prescott. Curley Bill and his friends were moving from the class of local toughs to criminals of international repute. The rustling ring had grown nasty, with a series of crimes that enraged the public. In June, unnamed cowboys assailed five members of the friendly Maricopa Indian tribe, forcing one to the ground and killing him in cold blood.44 Robberies became commonplace on the roadways outside Tombstone, beyond Marshal Virgil Earp's jurisdiction, and rumors trickled in of even worse deeds, real and imagined.

  Before the summer of '81, the cowboys had been mostly a nameless lot roving the hinterland. Gradually they received a degree of notoriety. Curley Bill had already drawn attention for killing Marshal White, and his dubious fame would grow now. John Ringo, "Billy the Kid" Claiborne, and even Ike Clanton would emerge as outlaws of note, men whose reputations were being reported across the West.

  Ike Clanton stirred up a little ruckus late on the night of June 7 when he traded punches with "Little Dan" Burns. The two parted, with Clanton "expressing his determination to change the nature of the fight as soon as they met," the Nugget reported. The next morning, Ike saw Burns in front of the Wells, Fargo office on Allen Street, and they both reached for their guns. Before either man could draw, Virgil Earp and Constable Hugh Haggerty broke up the action, possibly saving Ike from Little Dan's bullet.45

  Even Clanton's less than fastidious personal habits drew attention. "He was a despicable character and he ate like a pig," early Tombstone resident Ethel Macia said, repeating a family story to historian and author Jack Burrows. Before the summer of '81, most townsmen had apparently identified Ike as a rancher; but as his transgressions mounted it grew clear that Ike kept friends with the cowboy troublemakers and had become a hell-raiser himself.

  More troublemakers gained recognition, sometimes based more on perception than reality. John Ringo left his own trail of tales. A quiet, often drunk cowboy, he came to Arizona with a reputation for trouble. He would gradually be built into one of the most remarkable myths of the West-a Latin-spewing intellectual, former college professor turned bad and deadly. Billy Breakenridge provided the description that would echo through the years:

  Ringo was a mysterious man. He had a college education, but was reserved and morose. He drank heavily as if to drown his troubles; he was a perfect gentleman when sober, but inclined to be quarrelsome when drinking. He was a good shot and afraid of nothing, and had great authority with the rustling element. Although he was the leader on their trips to Mexico after cattle and in their raids against the smugglers, he generally kept by himself after they returned to Galeyville. He read a great deal and had a small collection of standard books in his cabin.46

  In reality, Ringo was a grade-school dropout who probably kept his mouth closed while others manufactured his reputation. The 6-foot-3 Ringo did seem to own a persona and bearing, and he had the ability to inspire fear and respect. "Every Tombstoner of his time I've met has recalled his FORCE," author Eugene Cunningham wrote. "We have all met that type-good and bad men whose personality came out at others. Not whom he had shot but whom he might shoot, seems to me is the question men asked."47

  The recollections of Ringo's acquaintances proved even more unusual. Emma Muir, who grew up in Shakespeare, recalled that the polite, apparently well-educated outlaw often visited the ranch of Jim Hughes and made a special friend of 11-year-old Mary Hughes. Muir wrote: "Whenever Mary, scanning the country from the watchtower, saw him coming she put on her prettiest dress and combed her glossy, black hair. John Ringo, when he spoke to her, made her feel like a great lady. He had read many books, and he told her of what he read, and this made Mary want to learn how to read. So he taught her English from the family Bible, and Spanish from a book he had picked up in Tombstone. He taught her how to write, and she took enormous pride in copying his beautiful Spencerian chirography."48 Such is the odd legacy of John Ringo, the outlaw who may have stopped a few times to read with a little girl, then rode off to raid and plunder.

  While Ringo may have shown a gentle side at times, he was a dangerous man indeed. As a child, the Indiana native was nearby when a shotgun accidentally went off, killing his father during the wagon train trip west, and John grew up with his widowed mother in San Jose, California. He went to Texas to fight in the so-called Hoodoo War, a territorial battle. He left Texas for Arizona with at least one murder on his hands. His activities in Arizona will never be certain-rustlers did not keep records. He stole cattle, almost certainly participated in the raids and murders against the Mexicans, and may well have taken a hand in a stage robbery. His record of tangles with the law is skimpy, notably a drunken incident shortly after the Fronteras raid.

  Nugget editor Richard Rule said, "One night when Ringo was a little too tight he took a hand in a poker game with two others and got beat. He didn't say much then, but went out quietly. In a little while he came back with a sixshooter in each hand, pointed them at the players and remarked that they might beat him at poker, but there was one little game where he could hold even with them. He then told them they could go, and needn't be particular about c
ounting the money on the table, as he would take care of that. They left in a hurry, and he helped himself to the money."49 The Nugget ran the story of the poker game on August 11, between the raids on Fronteras and the murder of the Mexican soldiers on the San Pedro. Presumably, Ringo had blood money to push across the table. The Nugget report said Ringo and cowboy Dave Estes took around $500 from the poker game, then stole a horse from former deputy sheriff Newt Babcock on the way out of town.50 According to Joseph Bowyer, Estes was brought to trial, but charges were dismissed for lack of evidence.

  Ringo had also been involved in a shooting in December of 1879, when the outlaw offered a man named Louis Hancock a drink of whiskey. Hancock refused, saying he preferred beer. According to the Arizona Daily Star, "Ringo struck him over the head with his pistol and then fired, the ball taking effect in the lower ... left ear ... and the fleshy part of the neck; half an inch more ... would have killed him."" When the case came before the grand jury Ringo wrote to Sheriff Shibell, explaining that he could not attend because of some unknown incident with a gun:

  I write this letter to let you know why I can not appear-I got shot through the foot and it is impossible for me to travel for awhile.

  If you get any papers for me, and will let me know, I will attend to them at once as I wish to live here. I do not wish to put you to any unnecessary trouble, nor do I wish to bring extra trouble on myself. Please let the Dist-Atty know why I do not appear, for I am very anxious that there is know [sic] forfeiture taken on the Bond.52

  While Ringo's record is sketchy, he certainly engaged in numerous nefarious activities. He just didn't get caught. Bowyer wrote, "A notorious cow-boy known as John R. offers to sell all the mutton the town can consume at the rate of $1.00 per head. No secrecy is observed in this kind of transactions."

  Even 21-year-old Billy Claiborne's reputation reached the big cities. He was often confused with New Mexico's "Billy the Kid," Henry Antrim, alias William Bonney. Cowboy pal Tom Thornton tried to clear up the confusion in the Examiner: "You paper men have got them confounded. Young Billy worked for me in my hotel. He waits on tables and is a quiet, inoffensive fellow, if let alone; but he will shoot a man that tries to impose on him. He is out on the range south of Tucson to get out of the way of the officers who want him for his last shooting scrape. He is still alive and likely to cause somebody trouble if they bother him. "53

  Thornton's comments came shortly after Claiborne's indictment for killing James Hickey in Charleston after Hickey reportedly alluded to him as a homosexual. One of the Earp brothers may have been involved in Claiborne's arrest-54 Claiborne also ran into trouble for horse stealing, but the victim chose not to prosecute the case after the horses were returned. Bowyer said he knew the reason: "The same person told me afterward that if he prosecuted the boy the other cow-boys would steal every head of stock he had which he being a poor man, could not afford to stand."

  Perhaps the most despicable of the cowboys was a miscreant named Sandy King, who reputedly stopped an old man in the backcountry and made him dismount from his horse. When the man said, "It's pretty rough to leave an old man afoot like this," King drew his pistol and responded, "You damned old scoundrel, I'll give you something to remember me by," and grazed his head with a bullet. King later went into a store in Lordsburg, New Mexico, and ordered goods. When the shopkeeper asked to whom he should charge the merchandise, King put his hand on his pistol and said, "To this." The storekeeper responded by drawing his own gun and grazing King's neck with his shot.55

  Gradually, during the summer of '81, more and more drifters would be identified as cowboys. Newspaper accounts called Zwing Hunt a rustler, although he was not charged. He and his pal Arthur Boucher, alias Billy Grounds, were among the friends of Curley Bill. Charles Ewing, Lewis McGinnis, and Milt Hicks would all be charged with rustling, but rustlers were hard to convict. The grand jury lamented that citizens were afraid to come forward and testify for fear of their own safety.

  As more no-accounts drifted into southeastern Arizona, townspeople and ranchers alike began running short on patience. The cowboys' value as Apache fighters became insignificant compared to their troublemaking tendencies, prompting Bowyer to write to Gosper: "The cow-boys frequently visit our town and after saluting us with an indiscriminate discharge of firearms, and after indulging in a few drinks at the saloons, practice shooting at the lamps, bottles, glasses, etc. Sometimes going to the length of shooting the cigar out of one's mouth; this of course produces a nervous feeling among the visitors especially. The situation at this writing is not materially changed from the above. The cowboys as a class are not over brave, though there are some among them who have gone through so much difficulty that they have become desperate and will take desperate chances."56

  San Francisco papers raged against the cowboys and the "good" citizens who protected them. The Stock Report editorialized: "What is to be expected when half the law officers of the border districts are their allies and when onethird of the so-called business men are their allies and protectors? The stolen cattle are harbored by ranchers, the cowboys have their own butchers in every place and the proceeds of the robberies of ranches and teams are bought without question by half the 'merchants' of Southern Arizona. The Territory is honeycombed with corruption and the life and property of no man are safe unless he himself is a ruffian or thief."57 The paper did not identify which officers were thought to be in league with the cowboys, leaving the question open to speculation among San Francisco readers.

  Depredations became rampant in the summer of '81. Another stage robbery, on August 17, stunned the county. The stage stopped at Benson and unloaded several bars of silver bullion on the platform at the station. The messenger began loading them inside the building, leaving several on the platform. The robber slipped up and stole one of the 150-pound bars, valued at $2,000, and escaped before the messenger stepped out to continue loading. Consistently the Epitaph railed against the cowboys and called for a committee of vigilance: "Desperate diseases require heroic treatment."

  Even the most polite sorts in Cochise County dropped their refinement and hoped for emphatic action against the criminal element. Parsons wrote in his diary: "Two men probably killed at Charleston for robbery and I'm glad of it. Time a lesson was taught the cowboys.'"58

  One big lesson came on August 13 when gunfire sounded at the U.S.- Mexican border marker. Old Man Clanton and six others brought a herd north into Guadalupe Canyon, a wide trail running through Sonora and into Arizona about a hundred miles east of Tombstone. With a steep mountain on one side and a rocky hill on the other, the trail led to a large flat about a hundred yards north of the border. Mexican troops were required to stop at the border marker, placing Clanton and his helpers beyond the range of retribution. Shortly after midnight a new arrival joined the party. Jim Crane, the long-sought-after stage robber, made his appearance.

  Billy Lang and Charles Snow awoke during the night to hear the cattle stirring and suspected a bear. Harry Ernshaw awoke a few minutes later and sent Snow to get a gun and search for the animal. He had taken only a few steps when the shooting started. Snow, Lang, Clanton, Crane, and Dixie Lee "Dick" Gray were killed, the latter three still in their sleeping rolls. William Byers, with an arm wound, and Ernshaw escaped, Ernshaw grazed on the nose by a bullet as he ran.

  "When they first fired and killed Charley Snow I thought the boys were firing at a bear," Byers told the Nugget. "[I] jumped out of my blankets, and as I got up the boys around me were shot. As soon as I saw what was up I looked for my rifle, and not seeing it I grabbed my revolver, and seeing them shooting at us from all sides, started to run, but had not gone forty feet when I was shot across my body, but I didn't fall, and in a few more steps was hit in my arm, knocked the pistol out of my hand and I fell down."

  Ernshaw ran past, and Byers lay down and played dead. "When I saw the Mexicans begin stripping the bodies, I took off what clothes I had, even my finger ring, and lay stretched out with my face down, and as I
was all bloody from my wounds, I thought they would pass me by, thinking I was dead, and had already been stripped. I was not mistaken, for they never touched me, but as one fellow passed me on horseback he fired several shots at me, one grazing the side of my head, and the others striking my side, throwing the dirt over me. But I kept perfectly still and he rode on."59

  An unidentified American coming north from Sonora told a grisly story of the events that preceded the massacre. He said that a few days before the killings in the canyon, about twenty-five cowboys raided into northern Sonora and gathered all the loose stock they could find before starting home. The Mexicans quickly organized a posse to chase the raiders. When they caught up, bullets began flying through the air, and eight Mexicans lay dead as the rest retreated to report to their military leaders. Commandant Neri immediately dispatched Captain Carrillo and a force of Mexican regulars to Guadalupe Canyon, the most likely spot for the rustlers to cross. While the Mexican government never officially acknowledged the attack, there is little doubt Carrillo and his force ambushed Clanton on American territory in the belief that his party had been guilty of raiding and killing.60