I
know what James
Holmes said he was thinking as the lunatic approached, "waving
his arms and shouting like a mad man". Holmes said he feared
for his life. If that was true, it was couragous when he stepped
from the cool dark of Brunckow's adobe (above) into the dessert sun to
display his double barrel shot gun. He said he warned the hulking
figure "not to move a foot". But the big man, whom Holmes
recognized as Milton Duffield, "The Most Violent Man in
Arizona", infamous for his "withering temper, belligerent
and disputatious" nature, whose fists were “as big as any
two fists to be seen...”, and who always carried an arresnal of
weapons, kept coming. And Holms insisted that reputation justified what he did
next. But because there were no wittnesses to corroberate his version
of this 4 June, 1874 confrontation, I habor doubts as to Mr. Holms'
veracity.
Edward
Laurence Schieffelin (above) was not an educated geologist like Frederick
Brunckow. But Ed had been criss-crossing the Basin and Range
province since he was 17, looking to reverse his family fortunes.
Yet seperated by 16 years and by a yawning education gap, both men, Brunckhow and Schieffelin,
ended up in the same 3 room adobe, a mile east of the San Pedro
River.
Army Scout Al Sieber warned Edward about prospecting in
Apache territory of southern Arizona. "The only rocks you will
find there will be your tombstone." But in the spring of 1877,
about 8 miles from the Brunckow adobe, Ed found chunks of silver
"float", rocks washed down by the occasional cloudbursts and gully washers during the summer "Monsoons". He started working his way back up the wash, toward the plateau at the southern end of the Dragoon Mountains (above), a tilted plane called Goose Flats.
In
1852 the 42 year old Milton Duffield (above) abandoned a wife and child to
seek California gold. His pugnacious personality made him so
unpopular in the gold fields that in 1854 he was confronted at
gunpoint by 3 antagonized acquaintances. Milton killed one and wounded
another. Within ten years he's reputation earned him appointment as
the first Federal Marshal of Arizona Territory. Shortly thereafter
a drunken lout named "Waco Bill" boasted he could not wait
to meet the new marshal. Whereupon, Milton, who had been drinking at the same bar, knocked Bill down, shot Bill in the
stomach and then grandly introduced himself.
Ed
Schieffelin spent June and July combing Goose Flats mesa for the
source of the red and black silver ore. The vein he found was 50 feet
long and 12 inches wide before it disappeared into the earth. It was
so rich in silver, that a coin pressed against it left an imprint.
Gathering samples of the ore, Ed built 3 foot high stone cairns
bracketing the site, "staking his claim", and then hurried
to the San Pedro river camp of would-be rancher, William Griffith,
who had offered to "stake" Ed if he found a likely spot. At
the end of August the two traveled the 70 miles northwest to Tuscon,
where, on 3 September 1877 Griffith paid the $5.00 double filing fee to the
county clerk. Ed called his new mine the "Tombstone" and
Griffith's "The Grave Yard".
When
a lynch party broke into the Phoenix jail, Marshal Milton Duffield
defended his 4 prisoners - sort of. As they tied him to a chair, he
warned the vigilantes, "You can hang a Mexican, and you can
hang a Jew and you can hang a nigger, but you can't hang an
American." Evidently, they could - hanging all four men. Once
he was released, Marshal Duffield found it politically expedient not
to arrest the prominent members of the lynching party.
Schieffelin (above) and Griffith showed their ore samples to several Tuscon miners,
and none thought the rocks worth a chemical examination. Griffith
accepted their judgment and bowed out of the partnership. But with
only 30 cents to his name, Ed Schieffelin could not afford to
surrender his dream. However, in his present incarnation, he could
attract no other investors. One observer described him in 1877 as
having "...black
hair that hung several inches below his shoulder and a beard
that....was a mass of unkempt knots and mats", and wearing
"...clothing pieced and patched from deer skins, corduroy and
flannel..." Ed gathered up his ore samples and headed out to
find his brother Al, who was working at the Silver King mine 100
miles north of Tuscon, in Globe, Arizona.
Marshal Duffield continued to inspire people to try and kill him. One would-be assassin even
took a shot at him in open court. Finally, in 1865, offended by his
low salary, Milton resigned. The lack of a badge did nothing to
mediate his personality. One night in a whore house a friend, John
Gregory Bourke, asked Duffield just how many weapons he carried.
Milton was just drunk enough not to take offense, and proceeded lay
his ever present hand gun on the table, joined by a second gun from a
hidden shoulder holster, and derringers from his vest pocket, tucked
into his boot, his hip pocket, his front pant pocket and a rear
pant pocket. Then he began to produce a variety of knives.
Eventually Milton Duffield lay 11 weapons on the table, and no one
thought he had completely disarmed.
The
north central Arizona town of Globe earned its name in 1875 when a
round clump of horn silver was found on Apache lands. When Ed
Schieffelin arrived in the fall of 1877, there were 3 mines operating
in the area. But Ed's brother Al had just left town, chasing a new
silver strike, 300 miles north on the Big Sandy River, at the foot
of the Poachie Mountains. Ed spent 2 weeks working at the Champion
mine in Globe to earn enough money to make the trip. When he arrived
in the new town of Signal, it had a post office and barely 100
residents, one of whom was Al Schieffelin. After a brief reunion (the
brothers had not seen each other in 4 years) Ed showed his ore
samples to a number of other miners, none of whom thought them worth
anything. That night Ed got drunk, and threw his samples as far as
he could into the desert night.
Milton
Duffield went into real estate, speculating in mining claims. And he
continued offending people. When
he got into a poker argument, Milton knocked his opponent to the
ground, then kicked him in the head. And for good measure, Milton
ended the discussion by shooting the stunned man in the ass. One
night in June of 1870, 2 men tip toed into his bedroom. Milton awoke
to the pain of an axe slicing into his shoulder. He fought the
attackers off, sending them retreating into the dark. But it cost
Milton his right thumb, in addition to 31 stab wounds
In
February of 1878 a new assayer arrived in Signal. His name was
Richard Gird. When Ed Schieffelin
worked up the courage to show him some ore samples he had missed
throwing away the previous fall, Gird was interested enough to run
some chemical tests. Three days later he informed Al and Ed the ore
tested as being worth $2,000 a ton. The three men (above) made a handshake
deal on the spot. Gird bought a second hand blue spring board wagon,
and a mule for Ed, and the partners headed back to the Goose Flats
mesa.
Time,
and his lifestyle was taking a toll on Milton Duffield. His dark eyes
still flashed, but his dark hair was turning white. Since the
nighttime attack he "...no
longer took pleasure in rows, but acted like one who had enough of
battles..." Known now generally as "Old Duffy" Milton
concentrated on speculating in other people's mining claims. And in
1872 Milton acquired claim to the "Bronco" mine and
the adobe, once owned by Frederick Brucnkow (above). A year later, in a tax
ploy, he transferred ownership of the mine to his Phoenix landlady,
Mrs. Mary E. Vaghn.
In
the early spring of 1878 the three partners occupied the Brunckow
adobe (above). Gird built an assay furnace in the remains of the cabin's fire
place, and the Schieffelin brothers began chipping away at the lode
on Goose Flats. The vein proved worth the $2,000 a ton estimate,
just as Gird had predicted, but there was barely a ton of it. The
vein pinched out three feet below ground level. Al and Gird were
despondent, but Ed insisted there was more silver in hills above the
mesa, and set out to find it.
The
day that Milton Duffield rode his wagon out to the Brunckow adobe -
Thursday, 5 June, 1874, he was 64 years old. "Old Duffy"
knew he was going to confront a claim jumper - James T. Holmes.
Holmes had occupied the cabin a few weeks before, and had
ostentatiously begun working the Bronco mine. But Milton knew there
was not enough silver left in the 14 year old Bronco to be worth
digging out, dragging to the surface and grinding into dust.
Apache's and local bandits had murdered some 20 men within sight of
the cabin, and it seems that Milton might even have been trying to
talk sense to the younger man. It may even have been that his
arrival was not a surprise to Holmes, since "Old Duffy"
made the trip unarmed.
On
Tuesday, 17 June, 1879, Ed Schieffelin arrived in Tuscon driving a
battered blue spring wagon. He stopped first at the county recorder's
office, to register 2 new mining claims above Goose Flats - the "Tough
Nut" and "The Lucky Cuss". He also filed paperwork
forming a legal partnership, The Tombstone Gold and Silver Mining
Company. Then, Ed delivered his buggy load of silver bullion to the
bank, making a deposit the bank valued at $18,744 - almost half a
million in today's currency.
The 90 foot wide "Tough Nut" (above) vein would assay out at $15,000 a ton. And it would not pinch out
for ten years.
Milton B. Duffield (above) , "The Most Violent
Man in Arizona", was buried near the Brunckow adobe. But the
Marshal testified he had been killed by a double barrel shotgun blast to the head.
The wound suggested that James Holmes had laid in wait and
assassinated "Old Duffy". And it was said that in jail
Holmes confessed to having been paid $2,000 to eliminate the old man.
But who paid him would remain a mystery. Holmes "escaped"
before his trial, and was never seen or heard from again. Maybe he
changed his name and moved to California, or maybe his employers shut
his mouth forever. Much of Milton Duffield's estate had already been
signed over to his Phoenix landlady, Mrs.
Mary E. Vaghn, hinting the old man was near broke. What was left
would be contested by his three wives - the one abandoned in West Virginia,
one in California and one in Arizona. About the only thing the first
Marshal of Arizona Territory never did, was divorce.
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