Part 1

FORTY YEARS AT EL PASO

1858-1898

RECOLLECTIONS OF WAR, POLITICS, ADVENTURE, EVENTS, NARRATIVES, SKETCHES, ETC.

BY

W. W. MILLS

“Around my fire a friendly group to draw And tell of all I felt and all I saw.”

COPYRIGHT, 1901,

BY

W. W. MILLS.

...TO... =MARY HAMILTON MILLS=

=A WARNING.=

These writings are meant to be truthful, but they are too rambling and egotistical to possess much historical value. Few subjects are treated of except such as the writer was personally connected with or in which he felt a special interest. Much that he was tempted to write has been omitted out of consideration for the living and the dead and their relations.

The book will have little interest except for those who know something of El Paso or of the men and events treated of, or of the writer himself.

For such only is it written.

W. W. MILLS.

El Paso, November, 1901.

CONTENTS.

PAGE.

El Paso in 1858 13 Roster of Ante-bellum Residents of El Paso 18 Incidents Before the War and Early Impressions 22 Murder and Robbery of Giddings’ Store (Sheldon Block) 36 The Canby-Sibley Campaign in 1861-62 38 The Battle of Valverde 56 Captain Moore 61 A Story Without a Moral 64 Benjamin S. Dowell 65 Brad. Daily 68 John Lemon 71 “Bob” Crandall as a Damphool 73 Robbery of My House in 1865—Indian Trailers 74 Attempt at Assassination in 1867—A Mystery 77 Fate of My Custom-House Deputies 79 Change of Customs District—Samuel J. Jones (1863) 80 Captains Skillman and French 82 Furnishing Arms to Mexico—1865 85 President Juarez’ Government at Ciudad Juarez, Near El Paso—1865-66 88 A Visit to Washington—Political Contests 89 Reconstruction—Constitutional Convention of 1868-69 94 Hamilton-Davis Contest of 1869—Adoption of Constitution 100 Marriage and Journey to My El Paso Home 102 Assault by Kuhn at Fredericksburg 108 Third Voyage Over the Plains—Enemies and Plots 110 A. J. Fountain—My Worst Enemy 114 Arrest at San Elezario—Assault by Atkinson 117 From El Paso to Austin—Stage Drivers 119 Some Texas Lawyers 122 Litigation About El Paso Property 126 “Star” Mail Contracts—The First Trust—1869-70 131 Victorio, the Great Apache General 136 The Killing of Clarke and Williams—The Causes—1870 138 The Cardis-Howard Feud—The Mob at San Elezario, 1877 142 The Bloody Reign of Marshal Studemeier 154 Longmeier—A Close Call 159 A Hold-Up 160 The Union Men of the South 163 Enemies and Philosophy 165

=FORTY YEARS AT EL PASO.=

I was born on a farm near Thorntown, Indiana, in 1836, and labored alongside of my father and brothers and the hired men during the crop season, attending the village school during the winter months, till I was seventeen years old, when my father sent me for two years to an academy in New York State. While there he secured for me an appointment as a cadet at the Military Academy at West Point, but I gave way to my brother, Anson Mills, who is now a Brigadier General in the United States army. After returning home for a year, I came to Texas with my brother Anson. We came down the Mississippi at the time of the great flood in 1857, to New Orleans, and thence up the Red River to Jefferson, Texas. From Jefferson we walked to McKinney, in Collin County, where my brother had previously resided, and I secured a school at Pilot Grove, in Grayson County, and spent a year there happily, and, I trust, usefully. During that year my brother was appointed surveyor on the part of Texas to the joint commission which located the boundary line between Texas and the United States, Col. William R. Scurry being the commissioner on the part of Texas.

At the suggestion of my brother, I joined this expedition at Horsehead Crossing on the Pecos River, and accompanied it to El Paso. When we arrived at Waco Tanks, twenty-six miles east of El Paso, we failed to find water, and were somewhat distressed in consequence. Colonel Scurry said that young men on foot could make the trip to El Paso for relief better than any of our worn-out animals, and my brother and I volunteered for the tramp. We left the tank, thirsty, at sunset and reached the river below El Paso before daybreak, and after slaking our thirst, slept on the ground till morning, when we sent out a relief party, with water. Soon thereafter I went to Fort Fillmore, in New Mexico, forty-five miles above El Paso, where I clerked in the sutler’s store of Hayward & McGrosty, for nearly a year, when I returned to El Paso, and was employed in the same capacity by St. Vrain & Co., merchants. This firm had a branch store at the Santa Rita copper mines near where Silver City now stands, and I made two journeys to and from that place, the first time on horseback and alone. There was no habitation between La Messilla and Santa Rita, and the country was full of hostile Indians; but of them later on. I remember camping alone over night at the place now known as Hudsons Hot Springs. The second journey I made as wagonmaster of our train laden with merchandise for the Santa Rita store, and brought back a load of copper, which we sent by wagons to Port La Vaca, eight hundred miles, and thence to New York by Gulf and Sea.

While at the copper mines, three prospectors—Tayor, Snively and another—came to my camp and reported that they had discovered placer gold at Pinos Altos, near there, and, as they were out of provisions and money, I gave them what was called a “grub stake”—that is, provisions to continue their explorations. That was in 1859, and I am told that gold is still being washed out at Pinos Altos, in 1900.

EL PASO IN 1858.

El Paso is situated on the Rio Grande River, in the extreme west corner of Texas, within a mile of that river, which forms the boundary line between Texas and Mexico, and very near to New Mexico on the north and on the west.

The altitude is 3,700 feet and the climate is mild, pleasant and healthful. El Paso was then a small adobe hamlet of about three hundred inhabitants, more than three-fourths of whom were Mexicans. Nearly all that portion of the village or “ranch” south of San Antonio and San Francisco streets was then cultivated in vineyards, fruit trees, fields of wheat and corn and gardens, for at that time and for years later there was an abundance of water in the Rio Grande all the year round, and El Paso was checkered with acequis (irrigation ditches).

At the head of El Paso street, near the little plaza, where the main acequia ran, there were several large ash and cottonwood trees, in the shade of which was a little market where fruit, and vegetables, and fowls, and mutton, and venison, and other articles were sold. We had no regular meat market.

To one of these trees some enterprising citizen had nailed a plank, which for years served as a bulletin board where people were wont to tack signed manuscripts giving their opinions of each other. Here Mrs. Gillock, who kept the hotel where the Mills building now stands, notified the “Publick” when her boarders refused to pay their bills, and here, in 1859, I saw my brother Anson nail the information that three certain citizens were liars, etc., and here, just ten years later, I gave the same information regarding B. F. Williams. Foolish? Perhaps.

The flouring mill of Simeon Hart, about a mile above the village, was the chief individual industrial enterprise in the valley, and ground the entire wheat crop from both sides of the river, and supplied flour to all the people and the military posts.

The proprietor, a man of wealth and influence, staked all and lost all in the Confederate cause.

The dam which supplied water to this mill had been constructed two hundred years ago by the people of the Mexican side of the river, who kept it in repair for all these years without asking any assistance from the people of the Texas side, although they generously divided the water with us.

The patience and industry displayed by this people in repairing and rebuilding this dam, when washed away by annual floods, can only be compared to that of beavers.

The Texas bank of the Rio Grande was then (1858) only a short distance south of where the Santa Fe depot now stands, but just how far south it is impossible for me or any one else, I believe, to tell, though I have been often asked to testify as to where the river bed was then, and in later years. It found its present bed more or less gradually by erosion and revulsion during these years, and left very few landmarks.

The bed of the river was narrower then than now, and many cottonwood trees grew upon each bank.

At the end of El Paso street was the ferry, where pedestrians crossed in small canoes, and vehicles and wagon trains in larger boats.

Sometimes, when the spring floods came, it was impossible for any one to cross for several days.

Be it remembered there was not a railroad or telegraph station within a thousand miles of us. The business houses, with one exception, were on El Paso street, and around the little plaza. My brother Anson and I each built homes at El Paso before the war, he on San Francisco and I on San Antonio street. The postoffice was on the west side of El Paso street, facing the head of San Antonio street, and in this same large room there was also a whiskey saloon, a billiard table, and several gambling tables. “Uncle Ben” Dowell was postmaster. This room and the street in front of it were the favorite shooting grounds of the sporting men, and others, and here took place many bloody encounters, some of which may be treated of in these idle writings. The graveyard was convenient, being on one of the hills on what is now known as “Sunset Heights.” At one time there were more people buried there who had died by violence than from all other causes. When I state that the writer of these pages sometimes read the burial service there over the remains of our departed countrymen, it may be imagined how sadly we were in need of spiritual guidance. Every citizen, whatever his age or calling, habitually carried a six-shooter at his belt, and slept with it under his pillow. I remember a friend, Johnnie Evans, saying to me once, when I was so thoughtless as to start down street without one: “Buckle it on, Mills; we don’t often need ’em, but when we do need ’em, we need ’em—Oh, God!” Every man’s horse, or team, and arms were the best his purse could buy, and my white saddle horse, that carried me for ten years, was surely a dandy. Sometimes, when I have journeyed to Las Cruces or Mesilla, fifty miles, in my buggy, I have turned this animal loose, saddled and bridled, and he has followed me the whole distance, as a dog follows his master. I have sometimes been vexed with the best of my human friends, but “Blanco” never disappointed me in anything.

The Mexican population, now nearly all passed away by death or removal, were of a much better class than those who came in later with the advent of the railroads, to sell their labor—and their votes. It is but just to say, however, that votes cannot be sold unless there be purchasers, and that the purchasers have ever been of my own race.

The villages below El Paso were more prosperous then than now, because their population is agricultural and the lack of water in the river in recent times has caused great discouragement and even distress. The same was true of Juarez, Mexico, just opposite El Paso, then called Paso del Norte.

The county seat was first at San Elezario, twenty-two miles below El Paso, with fifteen hundred population, and later at Ysleta, with twelve hundred population (nearly all Mexicans), and still later at El Paso. Court proceedings and arguments to juries and political speeches were then made in the Spanish language.

Fort Bliss, garrisoned by regular United States troops, situated at the place now called East El Paso, was considered by army officers and their families as one of the most desirable posts in the whole country, and several officers who subsequently held very high rank during the Civil War had been stationed there. There was another fort, called Quitman, seventy miles below El Paso, on the river, and a chain of military posts from there to San Antonio. The nearest posts in New Mexico were Fort Fillmore, forty miles to the north, near Las Cruces, and Fort Craig, one hundred miles still further north toward Santa Fe.

As to hunting, there were at that time comparatively plenty of wild deer, turkeys, wild geese, ducks and mountain quail on the mountains and in the valley, and I got my share of them.

ROSTER OF ANTE-BELLUM RESIDENTS OF EL PASO.

J. F. Crosby, then district judge, Confederate; is well known in El Paso.

Simeon Hart, mill owner and contractor, Confederate. Died at El Paso.

Henry J. Cuniffe, merchant, Union man. Was United States Consul at Juarez. Died at Las Cruces.

H. S. Gillett, merchant and Confederate, lives in New Mexico.

J. S. Gillett, merchant, Confederate; lives in New Mexico.

Col. Phil Herbert, lawyer, Confederate; killed in the war.

Col. James W. Magoffin, contractor, Confederate; sutler at Fort Bliss. Died at San Antonio.

Joseph Magoffin, Confederate; served in the war; now lives in El Paso.

Sam Magoffin, Confederate; killed in the war.

Anson Mills, engineer, Union; now brigadier general, U. S. A. Lives in Washington, D. C.

W. W. Mills, clerk, Union; served in the war; now United States Consul at Chihuahua, Mexico.

Emmett Mills, Union; killed in Indian fight in Arizona in 1861.

Samuel Schutz, merchant and Union man; now in El Paso.

Joseph Schutz, merchant, Union; died in 1895.

Col. George H. Giddings, manager San Antonio Mail Co.

H. C. Hall, agent San Antonio Mail Co.

Capt. Henry Skillman, frontiersman, Confederate; killed in the war.

Brad Daily, Union scout and spy; died at Las Cruces, N. M.

Col. Hugh Stephenson, mine owner and merchant; lived and died at Concordia, near El Paso.

Uncle Billy Smith, patriarch of the valley; thrown from stage coach at El Paso in 1860 and killed.

Vicente St. Vrain, merchant, Union; died in New Mexico.

A. B. O’Bannon, deputy collector customs, Confederate; dead.

William Morton, district attorney, Confederate; dead.

Charles Merritt, manager Hart’s mill; dead.

Henry C. Cook, lawyer, Confederate; dead.

B. S. Dowell, postmaster, Confederate; died at El Paso.

Nim Dowell, Union; killed by Confederates in Texas.

Fred Percy, English gentleman, Confederate; dead.

Rufus Doane, county surveyor; dead.

Billy Watts, sheriff; dead.

Emilio Deuchesne, merchant, Union; died in 1895, in Juarez.

Russ Howard, lawyer, Confederate; now in San Antonio.

A. B. Rohman, merchant; dead.

R. L. Robertson, agent Overland Mail Company, Union; dead.

Dr. Nangle, agent San Antonio Mail Company, Union; dead.

James Buchanan, merchant in Juarez; dead.

Charles Richardson, Confederate; lives in Juarez.

D. R. Diffendorffer, merchant in Juarez.

F. R. Diffendorffer, merchant in Juarez.

G. W. Gillock, justice of the peace and hotel-keeper; dead.

J. E. Terry, with the stage company; lives in El Paso.

Charles Music, merchant; lives in Mexico; and

Andrew Hornick, H. McWard, George Lyles, —— Tibbits, —— Milby, David Knox, Bill Conklin and Tom Miller.

There were usually about a dozen United States army officers at old Fort Bliss, now East El Paso.

The most prominent Mexican citizens in Paso del Norte (now Juarez) were:

Dr. Mariano Samaniego, Inocente Ochoa, José M. Flores, all still residing in Juarez; José M. Uranga, Jefe Politico, dead; Juan N. Zubiran, collector of customs, my partner and friend; and the venerable Ramon Ortiz, who ministered there as curate for fifty years, and died a few years since, beloved of the two races.

The Americans living at Ysleta and San Elizario before the war were: Price Cooper, Henry Corlow, Tom Collins, Henry Dexter, James McCarty, A. C. Hyde, William Claude Jones; and Fred Pierpoint, who died of hydrophobia at El Paso in 1869.

Of those named above as residing at El Paso in 1860, the following left with the retreating Texans in 1862: Crosby, Hart, the Gilletts, the Magoffins, Herbert, Merritt, O’Bannon, Morton, Cook, Skillman, Dowell, Richardson and Russ Howard. Some of the last named remained away for years and others never returned.

In their places there came soon (mostly discharged Union officers and soldiers): A. H. French, J. A. Zabriskie, G. J. Clarke, E. A. Mills, Nathan Webb, A. J. Fountain, William P. Bacon, Edmond Stein, S. C. Slade, John Evans, George Rand, Joe Shacker, Solomon Schutz, Louis Cardis, and Charles H. Howard.

Except those last named, there was but little increase in the American population of El Paso for about fifteen years.

INCIDENTS BEFORE THE WAR AND EARLY IMPRESSIONS.

On the second night after my arrival in El Paso I had my first experience of the manner of settling difficulties there. Samuel Schutz, still of El Paso, and one Tom Massie had had a misunderstanding about the rent of a house. My brother and I went across the river that afternoon, and on the way we met one Garver, a half-witted fellow, called “Clown,” who said he had been “fixing a canoe” at the river, and in a friendly way he advised us to return early because there would be some fun that night. We asked him what fun, and he replied: “_Oh, killin’ a Dutchman!_” That night, in front of the postoffice, I heard Massie say to a friend: “I have taken half a dozen drinks of straight brandy, but d—n me if I can get drunk.” I went into the postoffice and found an unusual crowd of men talking in low tones, and Mr. Schutz, in his shirt sleeves, was playing billiards with a friend. Presently Massie entered, and saying, “Mr. Schutz, you told a d—d lie,” presented a cocked pistol at that gentleman. There was no mistaking his intention. Murder was in his voice and in his face. Then there came from Mr. Schutz such a sound as I never heard before or since. It was not a shriek, or an outcry, for he did not distinctly articulate a single word. It was not exactly an expression of fear, but was more like a prolonged wail over some tragedy which had already occurred. But Schutz did the right thing, and quickly. He seized the barrel of Massie’s pistol and held it upward. Then commenced a struggle for life. Both were powerful men, and in their prime, one moved by hatred and revenge, and the other by the instinct of self-preservation. It was some seconds after they grappled before that strange sound ceased. Massie strove to bring his cocked pistol to bear on Schutz, and Schutz to move it in any other direction. Shocked and alarmed, and remembering my teaching about law and order, I stepped forward and said, “Gentlemen, would you see the man murdered?” _Not a man moved._ Massie finally let fall his pistol, drew a knife and drove it into Schutz’s shoulder. Schutz fled, but Massie recovered his pistol and fired two shots at him as he ran out through the front door. It was dark outside. Immediately after the shots Schutz stumbled over a water barrel and fell, and Massie, thinking him dead, crossed to Mexico in that canoe which Clown had “fixed.” Schutz was untouched by the bullets, and the knife wound was not serious.

The next day “Uncle Ben” Dowell gave me this advice: “My young friend, when you see anything of that kind going on in El Paso, don’t interfere. It is not considered good manners here.” The advice was well intended and worthy of careful consideration. Tom Massie returned to El Paso, but was not prosecuted.

Not long after the above occurrence, I saw a certain gambler shooting at another member of the profession in this same postoffice. A stray bullet killed an inoffensive by-stander. The coroner’s jury exonerated the killer, as they said the killing was clearly “accidental.” There was, of course, some sympathy for the innocent dead man, but most of it appeared to go to the gambler who had been so “unfortunate” as to kill _the wrong man_.

Of the Americans then at El Paso, some had left wives, or debts, or crimes behind them in “the States,” and had not come to the frontier to teach Sunday school. But there were good people here also, and for the few who were capable of doing business and willing to work, the opportunities were as good then and as profitable as they have ever been since that time. The products of the mines, crudely worked, in northern Mexico, were brought to El Paso and exchanged for merchandise or money. The military posts (forts) in northwest Texas and southern New Mexico were supplied with corn, flour, beef, hay, fuel, etc., by El Paso merchants and contractors.

The Overland Mail Company then operated a weekly line of mail coaches, drawn by six animals, between St. Louis and San Francisco. The time between these two cities was usually twenty-six days, the distance being 2,600 miles. These splendid Concord coaches (now almost gone out of use) carried the United States mail, for a Government subsidy, and usually four to nine through passengers, besides the driver and “conductor.” Changes of animals were made at “stations” built of rock or adobe, every twenty-five to forty miles, or wherever the company could find a stream, or spring, or water-hole. These coaches traveled day and night, in all kinds of weather.

El Paso was at this time (1858) the terminus of two other important stage routes—one from Santa Fe, New Mexico, and the other from San Antonio, Texas. These were in every particular so similar to the greater “Overland” route that a description is unnecessary. There was also a stage line to Chihuahua.