You will eventually notice, I have separated the "Lawmen" from the "Good Guys." If you read this blog you may come to understand why.
A town to town rifling through the long-protected legacies of the American West. Texas artist and historian Russell Cushman digs for the unvarnished West beyond the popular myth, and finds meaningful lessons and useful truths- and a wagon load of deceptions- about our American pioneer heritage.
The Lawmen
Sheriff John Larn of Ft Griffin, Texas
Well... actually there weren't many lawmen in a Hidetown. Bonafide lawmen that is. And John Larn, one of the most famous Hidetown sheriffs was a known killer of sheepmen and a kingpin cattle rustler. He was eventually arrested and put in a makeshift jail in Albany, where his enemies (supposedly Hidetown's most respectable persons) found him and shot him full of holes. Local justice was not to be trusted for the correct results. Hidetown, in this instance at Ft. Griffin, was where the goats were separated from the sheep, so to speak. and with about the same finesse. During Larn's years of service, he was said to have led or overseen many lynchings and disappearances.
Robert K. De Arment did an excellent job researching Larn's story, and relating it in his book Bravo of the Brazos, and that is where I stole this picture of Larn. It originally was supposed to have been published by the oft quoted Marvin J. Hunter of Bandera, in his venerated series of western pulp , the original Frontier Times. No article about Ft. Griffin would be complete without this face featured somewhere, representing all the criminals who wore a badge and used their office to perpetrate outrages against trusting, unsuspecting citizens.
There were an amazing number of legendary future lawmen, who rode the dust devils of the Texas Panhandle. But when they came to Hidetown, they were all just lonely, hungry wolves, young bucks looking for whiskey and a good time. And the place was any real lawman's nightmare, crawling with drunk soldiers and buffalo hunters looking for trouble- and finding it. Any lawman who valued his life would just try to keep the violence to a minimum, and stay out of range when the gunfire started. Larn succeeded at this until the guns were finally aimed at him.
At first the "Flats" at Ft Griffin was just a makeshift, slapstick shanty town with no plan but to siphon off of the nearby military base. The fort housed an army of randy, bored young men with no place to squander their army wages... so Hidetown cropped up to meet a need. There were a few Texas Rangers led by "iron-handed" Capt. George W. Arrington ... who were busy covering thousands of square miles. Their main assignment was protecting the frontier settlements from Comanche and Kiowa raids. The Army had its own concerns as well, supposedly scouting the countryside and identifying threats to the interior part of Texas, and training and disciplining the soldiers when they misbehaved in "the Flats," or anywhere else, which was too often.
Temple Houston (ABOVE) dressed as an ambitious, civilized Texas lawyer. But soon he was in buckskins and toting a sidearm- which he learned to use with deadly skill. So it took awhile for law and order to ever become a concept, much less a reality. And that's what makes Hidetown so much fun to write or read about! Plus there were several "Hidetowns." One at Ft. Griffin and one later farther north at Ft. Elliot, on Sweetwater Creek, which was also known as "Sweetwater," until it was renamed with the Comanche version for the word: "Mobeetie." One of the first "lawmen" to arrive there with any credentials, Temple Houston was fresh out of law school, sent by the State of Texas in 1876 to prosecute criminals in the Panhandle as District Attorney. The youngest and most flamboyant son of the famous Hero of San Jacinto, he came ready to make his own name, and leave his own footprint on the American West. Houston ended up in Oklahoma, where he could be his own man, without the pressure or stigma of the Houston legend. And he made his own.
Hide towns were merely awful camping grounds on the outskirts of plains villages used by smelly buffalo hunters when they came to civilization for supplies. The hunters were too filthy to approach any real hotels, and were barely tolerated in stores and saloons. They would sometimes use tents or their green buffalo hides to erect makeshift shelters, and would stay only long enough to get what they came for. Some friendly Tonkawa Indians, who served as scouts for the army, would set up tipis or other shelters there too. So these campgrounds were eventually called "hide towns," in much the same way that other places had "china towns" or "freedmen towns." Places of lawlessness and squalor, these places never really earned an official name.Then enterprising businesses constructed of pine clapboard would crop up somewhere between the hide town and the fort... creating a crude frontier version of a town. Visiting buffalo hunters usually had a hunting crew left back somewhere on the staked plains, waiting on ammunition or food, and they might have to contend with an angry bunch on their return if they were gone too long. But whiskey and women often combined to complicate a traveler's stay, as gambling, fighting and occasional killings sometimes put them in trouble with the law. The jails, which were sometimes just a chain around a post, were probably more hospitable than the hungry buffalo men on the plains, braving the weather and Indians, wallowing in buffalo blood and fat, and running low on whiskey.
Young Pat Garrett, (ABOVE) formerly a genteel Louisianan- this is how he looked before the West turned him into a lean and mean lawman. Several famous future lawmen once frequented these frontier oasises- for wild young men... Ft Griffin was known back east as "the Babylon of Texas." Several famous western lawmen killed their first man in stupid brawls in the jurisdiction of hide towns. When Pat Garrett killed a fellow buffalo hunter out on the plains, supposedly in self-defense, he rode into Ft. Griffin and turned himself in. But there was no decent jail, no judge, and as far as the constabulary was concerned, no evidence- not even a body to prove there had been a killing. They sent the remorseful hunter back to his camp. "Go and sin no more..." Later Garrett did the world a favor by ending the killing spree of Billy the Kid and some others of his gang.
Bat Masterson (ABOVE) got in an ugly scrape over a pretty Hidetown (Ft. Elliot) saloon girl and had a deadly, up close and personal shoot-out with an Army corporal named King, and was badly wounded in the exchange. The girl and the soldier fared far worse, one for threatening the young gun, the other by lunging to protect him. The girl has been often depicted as Masterson's first love... and Corporal King was Masterson's first kill. He was later said to have killed a man for everyone one of his birthdays... so if he fell behind, he would have to kill somebody on his birthday to catch up. That was a joke, but Masterson did have to kill more than his share of "bad men." He was seriously wounded in the Hidetown shoot-out, and might just as easily have died in such an out-of-the-way place, without decent medical attention, but it was not his time.
When some of King's buddies came looking for him, intending to string him up, Ben Thompson, (another future legendary lawmen) then a local gambler at his brother Billy's Lady Gay Saloon, held the soldiers at bay with a pair of revolvers. Although the Army did not take the killing of one of their best men lightly, once again the "Law" was ambivalent, and Bat was released. He would limp with that hip wound all of his life- hence the famous cane on the '50's television series about him. Masterson was the middle of three brothers who hunted buffalo in Texas and then became Kansas lawmen. No doubt Ed and Jim Masterson also knew the boardwalks of the hidetowns, as well as fellow hunters (and future lawmwen) Wyatt Earp, Virgil Earp and Bill Tilghman. Buffalo hunting seems to have been the farm team for western lawmen, and hide towns were where they cut their teeth. And for most of them, and which side of the law they would choose, it could have gone either way.
Billy Thompson, wild brother of the infamous gunman Ben Thompson, married and "managed" his wife, the more famous "Squirrel Tooth Alice."
The Earps started and managed a string of brothels from Illinois to Arizona over the next fifteen years. The Thompsons would shape a reputation for pimping, hubristic gambling and needless, deadly violence in Kansas and Texas, and Bill Tilghman would once be suspected of armed robbery.
The sister-in-law of Austin's city marshal Ben Thomppson, Libby Thompson, supposedly stolen by the Comanches when quite young, left Belton, Texas when just a teen to follow wanted gunman and "cattleman" Billy Thompson to her destiny. They traveled all over Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas trying to find it. Hers turned out to be becoming a popular prositute known as "Squirrel Tooth Alice." She eventually ran her own saloon and brothel in Sweetwater, Texas. Can''t prove my cabinet card (tinted by me) below from Belton, Texas is her, but if not, this saloon girl was a dead ringer, and must have had awful trouble explaining who she REALLY was!
"Big Nose" Kate Elder, (Again, unproven, my tintype, ABOVE) was an immigrant prostitute who was often a courtesan of Doc Holliday. Later Doc Holliday and Kate made Hidetown (Ft Elliot) their cash cow. It was there that Wyatt Earp, then a one-man Dodge City posse, ran into Holliday for the first time and mined some valuable information which saved him many miles of searching, thus starting their strange friendship. These were times when these famous men were young and handsome and footloose, and the most relevant law was that of the "survival of the fittest." The times when they found out just how tough they were, and when they discovered that they had something rare in any generation: a killer's instinct, necessary to survive as a lawman in any western town... or a gladiator in a Roman arena.
Wyatt had gotten bored as brother James's all-around brothel bouncer and custodian for the family sex-trade, and began to help the local constabulary. Tall and imposing, by 1875 he was working as a policeman under the City Marshal of Wichita, Kansas. But the Wyatt Earp we all know, the famous one of the Old West, was still in his infancy. His service in Wichita would be be lackluster, scarred by stupid accidents and accusations of nepotism. Off duty, he dropped his pistol while hanging around the back room of a saloon and it accidentally fired, luckily only putting a hole in his coat, but certainly puncturing his pride. When political opponents sneered about his brothers getting "hired-on" as local peace officers, Wyatt did what he always did, he followed James to the next brothel operation, this time in Dodge.
Wyatt's faitly acceptable reputation as a lawman followed him and the behemoth Marshal Deger offered him a policeman's badge in 1876, not long after he arrived in Dodge City. Soon he was appointed as Assistant City Marshal. But his old hunting buddy Bat Masterson had a bitter running feud with Marshal Deger, and had even had a fight with him and had been thrown into Deger's jail. Masterson had interfered with Deger when he was brutalizing a suspect, but had gained a devoted following in the process, as Deger was thought by many to be an abusive bully. Bat Masterson planned to run against him the next year for the office of County Sheriff.
Meanwhile a city alderman got crossways with Wyatt when he refused to do something the alderman demanded, and according to Bat Masterson, the politician took authority over him and tried to rip off his badge, as he fired him on sight. Wyatt reacted like any officer being attacked, beat him senseless, and put him in jail.
Apparently this kind of contention and political intrigue was not very attractive to Wyatt, because he and Morgan soon left for the promising gold fields of Deadwood, South Dakota that same year. After arriving too late to make a claim, Wyatt was at the end of himself. The sharpies like Captain Jack Crawford and "Banjo Dick" Brown had gobbled up all of the decent mining sites, and were selling them at a premium to wealthy speculators. The stories of gold just laying around, waiting to be picked up like manna from heaven had attracted a tsunami of men looking for easy money. Wyatt and Morgan were lucky to get odd jobs just to survive. The snow was too deep and the temperatures too low to try to get out of the Territory and Wyatt could no longer run from his problems. Bad choices have consequences, so he adjusted his attitude, and hauled firewood all winter in the snow, until even “sheriffin'” for Marshal Deger back in Dodge sounded attractive. He came back in the spring of 1877, took his old job in Dodge again, and just in time to see his buddy Bat Masterson defeat Deger in the Sheriff's election. And soon Masterson's likable brother Ed replaced Deger as city marshal. This was the beginning of a short-lived “Law and Order” era in Dodge City, and with his trusted friends in power, Deputy Wyatt Earp gradually began to “make a name for himself.”
The television series about Wyatt Earp depicted Bat Masterson as the inexperienced kid and Earp as his mentor, but it was, if anything, the other way around.
A year later Marshal Ed Masterson was killed, shot at point blank while making an arrest. Ed was too good-natured for police work in such a treacherous population, and the only brothers who survived their law enforcement careers were the ones who were "quick on the draw." This had nothing to do with the fast draw confrontations seen on televison. Those kinds of contests rarely happened. "Quick on the draw" meant that an officer learned to anticipate gun play, and pulled out his pistol early in a dangerous confrontation... and was not afraid to cock his revolver and use it before the opponent could pull his... If a man even put his hand on the butt of his pistol, he could and probably would be given a deadly warning, and if he hesitated, he would disarmed or killed- and either way, the lawman could and would claim self-defense. All of the western lawmen practiced this method or they ended up like good old Ed Masterson.
The Earps and Mastersons made names for themselves which lasted till this day. Of the six brothers who became famous lawmen, two would be murdered, one crippled for life, and two would be immortalized later with television series in the 1950's loosely depicting their adventures. Jim Masterson actually had an eventful career in Kansas and Oklahoma, but for some reason was overlooked by Hollywood.
The name of Wyatt Earp began to gain traction when he was given a temporary U. S. Deputy Marshal's commission to track down Dave Rudabaugh, a dangerous robber and killer, and bring him to justice. Rudabaugh was as bad as they got, and later joined up with Billy the Kid before finally being killed and beheaded by angry Mexican citizens.
Wyatt successfully tracked Rudabaugh 400 miles to Ft. Clark, Texas, and then to Ft. Griffin, where he met Holliday and got valuable information from him. Holiday had gambled with the desperado in Hidetown, and told him that Rudabaugh had outfoxed him and given him the slip- and had returned to Kansas. But thanks to the telegraph lines, Earp was able to alert Bat Masterson in time to apprehend the outlaw.
This journey helped set Wyatt on a new track, and a legend was being birthed, of proven competence, fierce determination, and self-respect. Out in the wilds for many weeks, saddlesore and living on bread and bacon, one can almost hear Urilla, his first love, a wife who perished when he was young and still naive, her voice speaking firmly to him, reassuring him, giving him a handhold up, back into the man she once loved. Sadly, if he ever thought those kinds of thoughts, he seems to have ignored them.
Dodge citizens were impressed that Earp had not gotten killed, and that he had the wit and composure to effect Rudabaugh's capture and then make it back to town. By 1877 he was employed as assistant City Marshal under the legendary Marshal Charlie Bassett, and he assumed his place as one of the great lawmen of the wild Old West.
Doc Holliday was impressed with his new acquaintance, and followed Wyatt to Dodge, and there began their peculiar alliance. It was an amazing time where western legends shared the same boardwalk, and laid the narratives which would seduce generations of writers and film producers. While Charlie Bassett ran the City Marshal's office, Bat Masterson was serving as Ford County Sheriff. His brother Jim was either his deputy or the Marshal's. The Earps were providing entertainment and refreshments at their local saloon and gambling hall, and Texas cowboys were milked for all they were worth. When they got out of hand, they were subdued, or sometimes shot. Wyatt Earp earned a reputation as sufficiently handy with a Colt revolver, and soon there was unbearable peace in the frontier crossroads.
Earp would serve Dodge well, but he would burn out again, and later fall back into a comfortable pattern, and follow brother James, gambler, opportunist and pimp extraordinaire, once again, this time to his new Earp scheme in Tombstone, Arizona. He landed a temporary job with Wells Fargo to escort a payroll to Arizona, and then went and found Virgil who was operating a sawmill and “sheriffin'” part-time in Prescott.
Below is my most important tintype acquisition! I believe it is an unpublished, never before seen group portrait of Wyatt Earp and some men very important to his service in Tombstone. You may easily recognize him, but the others will require identification. Left to Right: Wyatt Earp sit/standing, Dr. George Goodfellow of Tombstone and Texas Jack Vermillion. Sitting in the middle is possibly John Blount, alias "Mysterious Johnson," and on the far right is Luke Short wearing a deputy badge. This tintype verifies recent discoveries about the REAL Texas Jack, after years of various authors publishing a portrait of the wrong Jack Vermillion. Yes, there were two! But only one was a member of the controversial posse which made the infamous "Vendetta Ride."
Soon the old tribe was reunited in the silver mining boom-town of Tombstone, which was barely a year old. Virgil came with a commission as a Deputy United States Marshal for the newly formed Pima County. This time their timing was perfect. As Josie Marcus, Wyatt's future “wife” and long-time companion later explained, their interests were primarily business, and specifically saloons and gambling and “associated trades.” At first things were wide open and the Earps were a major force in the exploding village. They invested everything they had.
Earp family (ABOVE)- The Earp family was a fluid tribe, more like gypsies, which moved around between Illinois and California, dabbling in gambling or prostitution or, when it was offered, law enforcement, whichever there was a need. This tintype appears to be taken in California right after their Arizona exodus, and features (possibly!) the two oldest brothers and thus accepted leaders of the Earp family, usually non-combatants, Newton and James, along with the Earp harem. The man on the left I am less sure about... The SECOND ROW: James's wife Nellie “Bessie” Ketchum Earp, Josie Marcus, (Wyatt's recently acquired lover), Alvira Earp, (Virgil's wife), and Mattie Blaylock... sit together quite amiably. There were always promiscuous women following the Earp boys like the camp followers of old, never demanding much, using the term “marriage” rather loosely, doing whatever was needed to support the cause.
The Earp women were apparently quite stubborn and fiercely loyal, and sometimes refused to let go of the tribe even when their Earp man had let go of them. Mattie Blaylock “Earp” was in love with Wyatt for years, and had followed him from Wichita to Dodge and then from Dodge to Tombstone, and remained “in the family” even when Wyatt had grafted himself to Josephine “Sadie” Marcus, the common-law wife of his Tombstone nemesis Sheriff Johnny Behan. Perhaps Wyatt looked into the future and saw Mattie's bleak prospects, and knew he did not relish rehabilitating her, and could not protect her from her addictions. Or more likely, he took stock of the present, and a jaded, middle-aged whore had little to offer to an attractive man of the world, who compared every woman with the angelic, long-lost love of his life. As usual, Wyatt was not concerned about anyone's approval, only his own.
Earp stayed with ebullient Josie, for the rest of his life, and they traveled the West together. Later she released a book entitled I Married Wyatt Earp, but there is no evidence that she actually did, at least legally. One has to wonder what vulnerable, unfortunate Urilla would have thought of the Earp family enterprises, or where she might have fit in, and her wayward soldier, as he carved his name into American history.
A sixth generation Texan, landscape painter, sculptor, photographer, writer and historian, Russell Cushman shares his passion for the music, art and history of the Brazos Valley.
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