TOMBSTONES Chapter Twelve

I know what Tombstone (above) City Marshal Ben Sippy was feeling when he took his leave of absence on 6 June, 1881. He was feeling trapped. Which would be odd only if humans were one dimensional heroes and villains. In the flesh Ben was a hell of a lawman. Just after his election in January of 1881, Marshal Sippy faced down a mob of Cow Boys who wanted to string up the young hot headed gambler Micheal "Mike" "Johnny Behind the Deuce" O'Rouke. The Earps, Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan stood behind him, as well as Bat Masterson. Not a bad supporting cast. Never the less it was Ben Sippy who ran the risk of being shot first, and he did not waver. He should have been famous as a cold eyed, steel nerved western lawman, you might say a real life Wyatt Earp. Instead he became an historical footnote, because of the malaria that seemed to hang over him. Ben Sippy couldn't seem to handle money.

Ben had been chosen to finish out Fred White's term as Town Marshal by The Tombstone Epitath, and its editor John Clum. And the January election that saw Clum elected mayor, also saw Ben Sippy elected Marshal in his own right. But almost immediately the relationship between the Town Marshal and town turned sour. It was a repeat of Ben's experiences in Weatherford, Texas, just west of Fort Worth. Under his tenure as law officer and tax collector in both towns, money started to evaporate. And his bills started to pile up, unpaid. It wasn't that Ben was openly crooked, like Cochise County Marshal Johnny Behan and his "10% grafters" would prove to be. It seems that Ben just could not handle money, his own or other people's. The constant need to plug his financial dikes seems to have distracted him, as if he was financing an addiction - but whether it was an opium den, or laudlem, one particular woman, women in general or just whiskey nobody knew. And after 22 June, 1881, nobody was interested.

It started just after 4:30pm that day - the longest day of the year - when a quartet of porters at the small Arcade Saloon were struggling to manhandle a full 300 pound,46 inch tall by 24 inch wide, 46 gallon oak barrel of whiskey out from behind the bar. It was a time of day when sensible Hispanic residents were practicing the art of the siesta. But the mercenary Americans refused to bow to such common sense. The thermometer had peaked well above 90 degrees Fahrenheit, The air was so dry, the sweat evaporated right off the work men's skin. 

Out side, both Allen (above, Arcade is on right, half way up the street) and Fifth streets (opening to the right) were nearly empty. And in the shadowy narrow interior of the Arcade, languid drunks nursed warm beers while listless games of faro and poker were being played almost out of habit. But the owner, being a penny pincher by profession, ordered the weary stock men to pause in their efforts, to allow interia to regain its hold on their awkward burden, remove the barrel's tap and measure the liquid within. He did not want to miss even a dime of credit for the sour whiskey.  So the workmen did as they were told. Which is how they damn near burned down the entire town of Tombstone.

Once tapped it had been discovered the whiskey in the barrel had "gone sour", succumbing to the heat and an inefficient seal, the alcohol evaporating and the heat spoiling the grain broth left behind. Braving the "waft of acetone" and fungus billowing up from small opening,  one workman slid a stick gauge (above) into the liquid,  but let it slip from his fingers. It disappeared with a slunk into the thickening witches' brew. And after uttering a curse at his own mistake, the poor dumb soul leaned over the barrel to see if he could spy the missing tool in the murk, and he forgot the lighted cigar clenched in his teeth.

As the Tombstone Nugget explained, "A terrific explosion followed, scattering the blazing fluid in all directions and enveloping the whole structure in flames in the twinkling of an eye." But, the Nugget noted with a touch of annoyance, "...of the four men who stood around that portentous barrel not one of them was even singed." The Arcade, however, was not so lucky. The flames greedily consumed the bone dry wood, erecting a wall of flames that blocked the front door of the tiny establishment. As if a switch had been thrown, the suddenly electrified patrons, in unison, abandoned their languid reposes, and scrambled for the back door.

Three doors west, in the Golden Eagle Brewery, owner Edward Milton Joyce heard shouts of "Fire!", saw the flames, and tried to rescue $1,200 in cash from his safe.  But the flames drove him out of the building. Around the corner on Fifth Street, at "Saffors and Company Bank", the manager had the opposite problem. At the first shouts of fire, he threw all the cash into the safe and spun the dial, and just managed to escape as the building roof crashed in behind him. The entire block went up in flames within five minutes.

Within another half hour, the blazing beast  had consumed the tinderbox buildings north to Fremont Street, and south to Toughnut.  Wrote John Clum, "Everybody went wild. Your correspondent picked up a little girl who was returning from school and got bewildered...I passed one house where a lady and her two daughters were engaged in...futile efforts to get a five hundred pound piano out of the house..."  

When the flames hit the row of "bawdy houses" east of Sixth Street the denizens were forced to drop whatever they had in in hand, and wearing in what they had or did not have on, to run out of doors. One prostitute ran from her place of business carrying "a bird-cage in hand, and a dress in the other. Another rushed frantically down the street, attired in a robe of Burlap, with vail of green mosquito netting on her bead. "  Amazingly, somehow, nobody was killed or even seriously burned. 

Four square city blocks - 60 buildings, 20% of the town - were consumed within 45 minutes. The only thing that stopped the fire was a desperate bucket brigade and because the down wind end of the fire ran out of town to burn. In three quarters of an hour one hundred souls lost their living space, and $300,000 went up in smoke, most of it uninsured. And yet before the last ember had winked out, somebody put up a sign in front of a pile of timber ashes, which read, "We will reopen when it cools."

The fires never touched the mines, and with silver still coming out of the ground and wages still being paid, rebuilding began almost immediately. Eighteen days later Ms. Clara Brown attended the opening of the rebuilt "Golden Eagle" - now renamed "The Crystal Palace".  She assured her readers in far off San Diego that "The Palace " was "...simply gorgeous...The bar is a marvel of beauty...Every evening music from a piano and a violin attracts a crowd..." There were fewer wood frame structures this time, many opting for adobe, such as the new Wells Fargo Office and the Bird Cage Theatre ", built in the vacant lot where Sheriff Fred White had died.

Since Marshal Sippy was out of town, Deputy U.S. Marshal Virgil Earp (above) stepped in. He hired dozens of temporary officers to police the burned out areas, ending all looting. He assigned 18 men as around the clock guards for the safe at the Wells Fargo office, now repository of most of the town's cash. He did so well that by the end of June, Ben Sippy had been fired. Ben left behind angry creditors, but no solid evidence of any crimes committed. But Ben also gave the town it's new marshal - Virgil Earp, now wearing 2 hats, with jurisdiction not only in the town, but across the entire territory as Deputy Federal Marshal for Tombstone.

While the rebuilding was reaching its peak, Joe Hill rode back into town, collecting the watch and cash he had left with Virgil. But he brought only bad news - depending on how you looked at it. All 4 of the men who had tried to rob the Bisbee stage were now dead. Escapee Luther King had been killed, probably by his fellow Cochise County Cow Boys, because he had identified his accomplices to the Earp posse.  Harry Head and Jim Crane were executed by the same because they had botched the robbery, and killing the driver Bud Pierpot had brought too much attention on the rustlers. 

But most troubling of all for the Cow Boys was the death of one time jeweler Bill Leonard, who ran south, away from the vengeful Cow Boys and the determined Earp posse, until he found friends who had yet to hear of the Bisbee stage fiasco.  But in escaping across the border into Mexico, Bill Leonard crossed paths with a rustling party returning north with 800 head of cattle,  lead by Old Man Clanton.  Unfortunately, the Clanton party were being tracked by Sonorian Ruales under Commandant Felipe Neri.

Just at dawn on 13 August, 1881 about 25 Mexican militia opened fire on the rustlers, killing 4 of them - Bill Leonard probably died in his sleep.  Dick Gray and Billy Lang died trying to escape. And "Old Man" Newman Hawes Clanton was shot while leaning over the breakfast fire. The slaughter in the canyon was undeniable proof that law and order was closing the open frontier, from both sides of the border. The anarchy, which had allowed rustlers a viable business model, was being squeezed out of existence.

For the Clanton and the McLaury families, the death of their patriarch (above) was a body blow. The grief, and the tightening web of law enforcement on both sides of the border,  induced a feeling of helplessness, and anger.  Wyatt Earp would later testify that after the Guadalupe Massicure, “Ike Clanton and Frank McLaury,....shunned us, and Morgan, Virgil Earp, Doc Holliday and myself began to hear their threats against us.”  The fuse that had been burning for 20 years, had suddenly been cut short.

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TOMBSTONES Chapter Eleven

I know what Wyatt Earp was thinking when he found that confessed stage coach robber Luther King, had walked out of the Tombstone jail. After entrusting their prisoner to the Cochise County Sheriff Johnny Behan, Wyatt and the other members of the posse spent 2 weeks tracking King's accomplices across 100 miles of Arizona and New Mexico desert, all the way south to the border with old Mexico, at the head of Guadalupe Canyon. Wyatt came home dirty, exhausted and frustrated. And then to find the one prisoner he had caught, had been allowed to escape, Wyatt Earp was not just infuriated. He was desperate. Allow me to explain.

Absentee Territorial Governor John C. Fremont had named the amoral Johnny Behan (above) the new sheriff of Cochise County. Wyatt thought Johnny had promised the job of under sheriff for Tombstone to him, but instead Behan had pinned the badge on printer and editor of the Democrat leaning "Tombstone Nugget", Harry Jones Woods. And it was Woods who had allowed confessed armed robber Luther King to saunter out of jail, with help from Johnny Behan's business partner, John Dunbar.

Dunbar owned the Dexter Livery Stable, on Allen Street, between Fourth and Third Streets. That was his excuse to come to the jail to pay for and pick up Luther King's horse, which the cow boy was selling to pay for his lawyer. And while Harry Woods was out the front door with Dunbar finishing up the bill of sale, Luther walked out the back door, where he found a horse, saddled and waiting. Any secrets about who got a cut for aiding and abetting the botched robbery, rode off with Luther King. Johnny was a skilled enough politician to know there would be a public outrage at this display of arrogance and power by the Cochise County Cowboys. So he poured a little whiskey on the issue and stirred it up, producing a mud cloud.

The weak point for the Earps was John "Doc" Holliday (above). A few years earlier, Doc had lived in Los Vegas, New Mexico, where, a few doors down from Holliday's dentist office had been the jewelry shop owned by William "Bill" Leonard, one of the escaped Benson Stage robbers. Also, Doc had occasionally stopped by the Redfield Ranch, where Luther King had been caught. 

But most helpful for Johnny Behan, Doc's decision to join the posse had set off a loud, passionate and public argument with his common law Hungarian born wife, Mary Katherine "Big Nose Kate" Horony (above, right).  Doc (above, left) rode off with the Earps, but during the 2 weeks the posse was gone, Kate was clearly miserable. Johnny took to commiserating with her, even buying her a drink or two. Or Three, or ten. And during one of those alcohol fueled conversations, Johnny got Kate's drunken signature on a statement claiming Doc had been one of the Bensen stage robbers. Johnny Behan and Harry Woods wasted no time in arresting "Doc" Holliday as soon as he returned from the posse.

Doc Holliday's arrest certainly muddied the image of Luther King's miraculous escape from Johnny Behan's jail. Still, moments after the crime the Drew family had seen 4 men riding away. The one confirmed member of the gang, Luther King, had named his accomplices - Harry Head, "Bill" Leonard and Jim Crane.   Doc was seen in Charleston (above) an hour after the shooting of Bud Pierpont and Pete Roerig. But he was looking for Ike Clanton. The most logical explanation is that Doc heard rumors of the intended robbery, and was looking for Ike to identify the robbers before going to Virgil Earp. But such a story would imply that Ike Clanton could be expected to betray the Cow Boys.

Wyatt Earp had no doubts about Doc's innocence of the charge. He paid Doc's bail. And as soon as "Big Nose" Kate sobered up, she recanted her statement. All charges against Doc Holliday were dropped.  Only then could the Earps return to pursuing the criminals. One night in late May of 1881, Wyatt stepped away from his faro table in the Golden Eagle Brewery (above), and approached three men eating dinner in the Occidental hotel bar. Wyatt asked if he could buy the men a drink. And while their cocktails were being prepared, Wyatt sat and began to talk.

The three men were Ike Clanton (above), Frank McLaury, and...

..."Joe Hill" (above,) He was known as  "rancher" in Arizona and New Mexico. But  under his real name, Joseph Graves Olney, he was wanted for the deaths of 3 men in Texas - one them a deputy sheriff,  and at least one other man  in New Mexico.  The three Cow Boys were suspicious, but willing to listen when Wyatt suggested he had a plan for them to make $3,500.  Did they want to hear the details?  The Cow Boys said yes, there were willing to listen. Wyatt then mysteriously added that he would only continue if they first swore to keep their conversation secret, even if they decided to turn down the deal to be offered.  Reluctantly Clanton,  McLaury and Olney swore they would never tell anyone what Wyatt was about to say. Then Wyatt asked his captive audience to step out into the middle of Fifth Street, where they could speak without being overheard.

Once in the middle of the wide dark street, Wyatt elicited yet another promise that their conversation would remain secret, even if they rejected his offer. And only after Clanton, McLaury and "Hill" had sworn yet again, did Wyatt Earp (above) lay out his plan. As Wyatt later testified, "I told them I wanted the glory of capturing Leonard, Head, and Crane and if I could do it, it would help me make the race for Sheriff at the next election. I told them if they would...tell me where those men were hid, I would give them all the reward and would never let anyone know where I got the information."

The reward being offered by Wells Fargo for Bill Leonard, Harry "The Kid" Head and Jim Crane was $1,200 apiecce. It would have been higher, if the crooks had actually stolen the $26,000 silver shipment. But it was still high enough that it tempted the 3 Cow Boys to consider betraying their "friends".  

According to Wyatt, “Ike Clanton (above) said he would like to see them captured. He said that Leonard claimed a ranch that he claimed, and that if he could get him out of the way, he would have no opposition in regard to that ranch. Clanton said that Leonard, Head, and Crane would make a fight, that they would never be taken alive, and that I must find out if the reward would be paid for the capture of the robbers dead or alive."

The next morning Wyatt Earp dropped by the adobe Wells Fargo office on Fremont Street, and asked agent Marshall Williams the exact conditions on the rewards for the three accused murderers. Williams agreed to telegraph the company home office in San Francisco, for clarification.

By 1870 Wells Fargo had a virtual monopoly on all stage service connecting towns and villages with the Southern Pacific Railroad and its trunk lines - everything between Idaho and the Mexican border, and Nebraska and the California coast. Wells Fargo could extend or contract their 3,000 miles of routes at will, extort subsidies from states and cities to ensure service. 

Wells Fargo could afford to undercut their competition on valuable routes by gouging customers on established ones. Wells Fargo even earned a profit from their few competitors because they insured shipments on those carriers, such as the silver bars on the Tombstone to Benson stage. Wells Fargo agents, like William Sheriff in Tombstone, were unlicensed lawmen, with unlimited jurisdiction and without legal limitations.

Again, according to Wyatt, "The next day I met Ike Clanton and Joe Hill on Allen Street (above) in front of a little cigar store next to the Alhambra." He showed the telegram confirming the reward for all three Cow Boys was "dead or alive. " It was then agreed....they were to have all the $3,600 reward, outside of necessary expenses for horse hire in going after them." 

Frank McLaury (above) and Ike Clanton's plan to lure the fugitives back was for  Jose Olney to ride to New Mexico, where the 3 were  hiding. He would tell them that because water had been struck in the mines - which it had -  the mines were going to be shut down and a paymaster was bringing enough cash to pay off the miners.  He would be traveling on the Bisbee to Tombstone stage. According to Wyatt, they would meet "near Frank and Tom McLaury's ranch near Soldier's Holes....I would be on hand with a posse and capture them."

It seems clear Ike, Tom and Olney were  hopeful Wyatt's posse would simply murder Leonard, Head and Crane, thus preventing any revelations they might provide. In fact, Luther King had already been shot dead by the very men who had helped him to escape. Supposedly this was retribution for naming his accomplices. But it was also because the botched robbery had produced no income, but a lot of unwanted attention.  Ike, Frank and Joe's plan would at least provide $3,600 compensation for the Cochise County Cow Boys. In short their reaction to Wyatt's offer was exactly what the Earps had hoped it would be.

That the plan was generally known among both sides was shown when Joe Hill left his watch and $300 in cash with Federal Marshal Virgil Earp, as a guarantee of his return from New Mexico. But Joe's mission was a actually trap,  half of a vice that was now closing, squeezing the Cochise County Cow Boys right out of existence.

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TOMBSTONES Chapter Ten

I know what 31 year old John Harris Behan (above) was thinking that December of 1880, while listening to Wyatt Earp, the ex-under-sheriff for Tombstone, Pima County, Arizona. Johnny Behan, the current under sheriff for Tombstone, was thinking about Johnny Behan, because that was always what Johnny Behan was always thinking about. Wyatt had resigned as under-sheriff to protest the rigged November 1880 election for Pima County Sheriff, in which his friend and fellow Republican, Bob Paul, had come 46 votes short to Democrat Charles Shibell. But Wyatt's act of principle had allowed Shibell to appoint Johnny Behan to replace Wyatt.

Now, both Johnny and Wyatt wanted the lucrative positon of sheriff of the new Cochise County, set to come into existence in early 1881. So that December night, Wyatt offered to withdraw from the race. In exchange, Johnny would appoint Wyatt as his under-sheriff for the town of Tombstone (above), the job Wyatt had just given up. Johnny seemed agreeable, as he always did, and Wyatt left the meeting convinced they had a deal. But with Johnny (below, left), nothing was ever simple.

Johnny Behan's entire career was the monitarization of his sex life. When petite Victoria Behan (above, right)  filed for divorce in 1875,  she cited her husband's addiction to "houses of ill fame and prostitution" mentioning one prostitute in particular, "...Sada Mansfield...." But, as Wikapedia notes, Johnny's numerous liasons included "...the wives of friends and business partners." It raises the question of what kind of a man "counts coup" on his "friends". In October, 1879, the now single Behan opened a saloon in the central Arizona boom town of Tip Top. There were four other taverns in the town of 500, and Johnny's primary draw for customers was the "Courtesan" services offered by 19 year old Sada Mansfield.

Sada (above) or "Sadie" or "Sarah" invented so many stories about herself, it is difficult to pick the ones most likely to be accurate.  She probably ran away from her orthodox Jewish home at the age of 13, fleeing San Francisco in the company of well known madam, Hattie Wells. They arrived together in Prescott, Arizona sometime in 1874, where the young girl went to work in Well's Granite Street brothel. Being a prostitute gave her independence, which she exercised in 1879 by moving to Tip Top with Johnny Behan. By the time she was 20 years old she had borrowed the name of "Josphene Marcus" from an actress in a traveling theatrical troupe. Sadie admitted years later, "My blood demanded excitement, variety and change."

Johnny (above) and Josephine moved to Tombstone in September of 1880. Having served 2 terms as a Republican state legislater for Mohave County, Behan now took a job as bar manager in the Grand Hotel, a hang out for the 'cow boys', who were solidly Democrats. Sadie's talents cemented Johnny's friendships "aross the aisle". At the same time he cemented his Republican ties by investing his earnings from Tip Top in Tombstone's Dexter Livery Stable, owned by John Dunbar, whose family had close ties to the infamous Republican Presidental hopeful , Senator James Blain, "The Continental Liar from the state of Maine".  All of which made Johnny seem the obvious choice as Sheriff of the new Cochise County. Wyatt knew he needed a little publicity if he was going to secure the job as under-sheriff for Tombstone. The opportunity for that good press appeared on Tuesday, 15 March, 1881, when the 6:00pm northbound Tombstone to Benson stage coach was held up.

By about 7:30pm, the coach, carrying 7 passangers, a driver and a guard and a strongbox containing 6 bars of silver bullion worth $26,000 - over half a million dollars today - all pulled by 6 horses, was about a mile passed the cut off to the San Pedro River mill town of Contention City, and just 200 yards short of a hill top station run by the widow Georgina Drew and her 5 children - the half way mark between Tombstone and Benson. As the driver slowed to climb the rise a man appeared in the road, wearing a mask and wig. He waved a shotgun and ordered the coach to "Hold!".

The driver, Eli "Bud" Pierpott, seemed to refuse. Another of the would-be robbers fired from the brush beside the road, hitting Bud in the heart. He fell forward, falling onto the traces between "the wheelers" - the horses closest to the 48 inch wheels - and then under the coach. The gunshot, the loss of pressure on the reins, and the jerk on the load they were pulling, all panicked the horses, who bolted up the hill. The shot gun guard, sheriff candidate Bob Paul, let loose both barrels from his weapon. About 20 shots were fired from the brush as the stage lurched past, one of them hitting the back of a miner riding in the "dickie seat" above and behind the driver, a man named Peter Roerig.

The gunshots, and then the stage racing through the station, alerted Mrs. Drew and her children, who were waiting to change the horse team and sell the travelers a little food and drink for a dollar apiece. They found Bud Pierpott lying dead in the road, and saw 4 men riding off from the scene. A mile north (above)  Bob Paul managed to recapture the 6 reins, and pulled the winded horses to a stop before they capsized the coach. Pete Roerig was in a bad way, but none of the other passangers were injured. So Paul drove the horses and coach hard the remaining 14 miles to Benson, the Southern Pacific railroad and the telegraph. He got there not long before 10:00pm that night.

After seeing to poor Pete Roerig - he would die shortly after reaching Benson - and locking the silver bullion safely in the railroad companies' safe, Bob Paul (above) telegraphed the Deputy Federal Marshall in Tombstone, Virgil Earp.  

By midnight, perhaps the most impressive posse ever formed in the old west - Virgil, Wyatt and Morgan Earp, gambler John "Doc" Hoiday, Wells Fargo agent Marshall Williams and Wyatt's friend and fellow lawman from Dodge City Kansas, Bat Masterson - were all provisioned, mounted and on the road to Drew station, 12 miles north.

Bob Paul was first to return to the scene of the crime. Near the hold up site, he found three masks, and tracks that led east. Now leading the Tombstone posse, Paul followed the trail to sprawling ranch run by Henry and Leonard "Lem" Redfield, where they cornered and captured the unhappy cow boy Luther King. He readily admitted to being involved, but insisted his only task had been holding the horses. But he also identified the other 3 highway men as Harry "The Kid" Head, one time jeweler William "Bill" Lenoard and Jim Crane.  King said that Crane had been wounded in the thigh, although by Paul's hasty shot gun blast or by his own six shooter, is unclear.

The capture of King presented a dilemma. The crime had been committed halfway between Tombstone and Benson. And while Deputy Federal Marshal Virgil Earp had authority throughout the territory, the trial of the killers of Pete Roerig and Bud Pierpott would do Wyatt (above) the most good if held in Tombstone.  So, come sun up on Thursday, 17 March, 1881, the 7 lawmen gave up their search for the other 3 members of the gang, and began escorting Luther King back toward Tombstone. 

It was a stroke of luck, then, when, they ran into Cochies Sheriff Johnny Behan and a deputy, riding north, in search of the gang.  Johnny took possession of Luther King - even insisted on it - freeing Paul, the Earps, Holiday and Marshall to return to the pursuit. They tracked Harry Head, Bill Leonard and Jim Crane for 2 weeks, south and east into the San Simon Valley (above, lower right) , into New Mexico, all the way to the northern mouth of Guadalupe Canyon, just above the Mexican border. Then, short of provisions, and with no funds to obtain more, they were forced to return to Tombstone.

To their surprise, they discovered that although under- sheriff Behan had locked Luther King securely in the Tombstone jail, the cow boy had managed to slip out the back door and disappear. And, poof! All the effort and expense of sweat, leather and horse flesh were for naught. Any hope Wyatt Earp had of becoming sheriff of Tombstone vanished along with Mr. King. Wyatt was going to have to think of something else.

According to the Tombstone Epitaph", it was not long after this, in April of 1881, that "Sadie" Marcus (above and  below) returned home early from a trip and found Johnny in their bed with the wife of a "friend". Who the friend was, is unstated, but that was Johnny's modus operendi. But the Epitath was clear that the 20 year old lady kicked Johnny out of their house, and became a truely independent operator. It must have been about this same time, the self posessed lady met Wyatt Earp.

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