Fruits of Ranger Service | Chapter 20 | Six Years with the Texas Rangers | James B. Gillett

Read by John Brandon. Fruits of Ranger Service. Early in the spring of 1881, the old town of El Paso awoke out of her rip and winkle sleep to find that four Grand Trunk railroad lines, Santa Fe, Southern Pacific, G.H., and S.A., and the Texas and Pacific were rapidly building toward her, and were certain to enter the town by the end of the year. Situated as it was many hundreds of miles from any other town, It was a foregone conclusion that El Paso, at the making of the great city, and was a fine field for investment, bankers, merchants, capitalists, real estate dealers, cattlemen, miners, railroad men, gamblers, saloon keepers, and sporting people of both sexes flocked to the town. They came in buggies, hacks, wagons, horseback, and even afoot. There was not half enough hotel accommodations to go around. So people just slept and ate at any old place. El Paso Street, the only business thoroughfare at that time, was flooded with crowds. At night, there was not enough room for people to walk on the sidewalks, and they filled the streets. To me, it looked just like a miniature midway at a World's Fair. A saloon was opened on almost every corner of the town, with many in between. Each drinking place had a gambling house attached, where the crowds played Faro Bank, Chuck-a-luck, stud poker, and every gambling game on the calendar. If one wished a seat at the gaming tables, he had to come early, or he could not get within thirty feet of them. Two variety theaters, the Coliseum operated by the Manning brothers, the largest in the Southwest, and Jack Doyle's, were quickly opened. An election was called in El Paso, and the city was duly incorporated, and a mayor and board of aldermen installed. George Campbell was elected city marshal and given one assistant, Bill Johnson. The new marshal had come to El Paso from Young County, Texas, where he had been a deputy sheriff. Campbell had done some good detective work and was a fairly good and efficient officer, but his assistant was much below ordinary. The city marshal soon found that with but one man to aid him, he had the biggest kind of a job on his hands with something doing every hour in the twenty-four. Campbell decided he was not getting enough pay for the work he had to do and asked the city council for a raise in his salary, but the council refused it. The marshal at once resigned and left Bill Johnson to hold the town. Campbell was very friendly with the sporting element in El Paso, especially with the Manning brothers, who were running two saloons and a big variety theater. Campbell and his friends decided to use strategy to force the council to increase his salary and plan to shoot up the town, thinking this would cause the city fathers to reinstate Campbell in his old position with a substantial increase in pay. At 2 o'clock one morning, the town was shot up, some 300 or 400 shots being fired promiscuously, and with no attempt to make arrests. The following morning, Mayor McGoffin sent a hurry call to Captain Baylor at Isleta and asked that a detachment of Texas Rangers be sent to El Paso to help police the town. At that time, I had not severed my connection with the Rangers, so I was ordered to make a detail of five Rangers, issue them 15 days rations, and have them reported once to the Mayor of El Paso. The peace-loving citizens of the town welcomed the rangers, secured nice quarters for them, and furnished the detachment with a stove on which to cook its meals. The rangers had been in El Paso on police duty about a week when there appeared in the town from New Mexico the famous Dallas Stoddemeyer. The newcomer was 6 feet 2 inches in height, a blonde, and weighed 185 pounds. Stoddemeyer had a compelling personality And had been a Confederate soldier. Having served with General Joe Johnston at Greensboro, North Carolina, Mr. Stoddemeyer applied to the mayor and city council for the position of city marshal. He presented good references and was duly appointed town marshal. George Campbell now saw his chances for reinstatement as an officer in El Paso go glimmering. Marshal Stoddemeyer called on Bill Johnson for the keys of the city jail, but the latter refused to surrender them. Thereupon, Stoddemeyer seized the recalcitrant assistant, shook him up, and took the keys from his pocket, thereby making his first enemy in El Paso. About ten days after the new marshal had been installed, it was reported in El Paso that two Mexican boys had been found murdered some ten or twelve miles from town on the Rio Grande. The rangers stationed in the city went out to the ranch to investigate. The bodies were brought to El Paso. And a coroner's inquest was held in a room fronting on El Paso Street. Johnny Hale, manager of Manning's Little Ranch, was summoned to appear before the coroner, and it was believed by the Rangers that Hale and an ex-ranger named Len Peterson had committed the double murder. The inquest being held in such a public place attracted a crowd of onlookers. Besides the Rangers, Marshal Stoddemeyer, ex-Marshal Campbell, and Bill Johnson were present. A man named Gus Kremka acted as interpreter. The trial dragged along until the noon hour, and the proceedings were adjourned for dinner. The rangers went at once to their quarters to prepare their meal. While there was still a crowd standing about the scene of the inquest, Kremka came out of the room and was accosted by John Hale, who had become offended at the way the interpreter had interpreted the evidence. After a few hot words, Hale quickly pulled his pistol, And shot Kremka through the head, killing him instantly. Marshal Stadenmeier ran up, shot at Hale, but missing him killed a Mexican bystander. At the second shot from the Marshal's pistol, John Hale fell dead. George Campbell had pulled his pistol and was backing off across the street, when Stadenmeier suddenly turned and shot him down. Four men were thus killed, almost within the twinkling of an eye. Staudenmayer was held blameless by the better class of citizens for the part he had played, but a certain sporting element, mostly friends of Campbell, was highly indignant at Marshal Staudenmayer for killing Campbell, and declared the latter had been murdered. The Manning brothers were especially bitter against the Marshal, as he had killed their ranch foreman, Hale, and their friend Campbell. This feeling against Marshal Staudenmayer never subsided, And just a little more than a year after. Dallas Staudenmayer was shot and killed in a street fight by Jim and Dr. Manning within 50 feet of the spot where Staudenmayer himself had killed the three men the year before. The friends of George Campbell now sought to take the life of Marshal Staudenmayer, and they used as their instrument Bill Johnson, a man almost simple mentally. The plotters furnished Johnson with plenty of free whiskey, and when they had made him drunk, they told him Stadenmeier had no right to catch him in the collar and shake him as if he were a cur dog. Johnson finally agreed to kill the marshal. Armed with a double-barreled shotgun, the tool of the plotters took up a position one night behind a pile of bricks in San Antonio Street, where it enters El Paso, and lay in wait for his intended victim. Marshal Staudenmayer was then down at Neil Newland's Acme Saloon, and it was well known he would soon make his round up the street. Shortly afterward, he was seen coming, and when he had approached within 25 feet of a brick pile, Bill Johnson rose to his feet and fired both barrels of his shotgun. Unsteady with drink, Johnson's fire went over the Marshal's head and left him unharmed. The marshal pulled his pistol, and with lightning rapidity, Bill Johnson's body full of holes. At the same moment, Campbell's friends posted on the opposite side of the street, opened fire on Stoddemeyer, and slightly wounded him in one foot. But the marshal charged his attackers and single-handed put them to flight. From this day, Marshal Stoddemeyer had the roughs of El Paso eating out of his hand. There was no longer any necessity for the rangers to help him police the town, and they were withdrawn. Stoddemeyer's presence on the streets was a guarantee of order and good government he was a good man for the class of people he had to deal with yet he knew there were those in El Paso that were his bitter enemies and always on the alert for a chance to take his life this caused him to drink and when under the influence of liquor he became mean and overbearing to some of his most ardent supporters So much so that by the spring of 1882 he was asked to resign. In a dramatic and fiery speech, Stoddemeyer presented his resignation, and declared that he had not been treated fairly by the city council, and that he could straddle them all. Immediately on leaving the Rangers, as narrated at the close of the preceding chapter, I accepted a position of Captain of Guards On the Santa Fe Railroad under my friend Captain Thatcher. I did not long remain in the railroad's employ, and after a few months, I resigned my position there to become assistant city marshal under Mr. Stoddemeyer. Upon the resignation of Mr. Stoddemeyer, I was appointed city marshal of El Paso. Upon my appointment, the ex-marshal walked over, took me by the hand, and said, Young man, I congratulate you on being elected city marshal, And at the same time, I wish to warn you. That you have more than a man-sized job on your hands. Stoddemeyer had once secured the appointment as United States Deputy Marshal of the Western District of Texas with headquarters at El Paso. Stoddemeyer always treated me with the greatest consideration and courtesy and gave me trouble on only one occasion. I reproduce here a clipping from the El Paso paper of the time. Last Thursday night, a shooting scrape in which ex-Marshal Stoddemeyer and ex-Deputy Page played the leading parts occurred at the Acme Saloon. It seems that early in the evening, Page had a misunderstanding with Billy Bell. Stoddemeyer acted as a peacemaker in the matter. In doing so, he carried Page to Doyle's Concert Hall, where the two remained an hour or so, and got more or less intoxicated. About midnight they returned to the Acme and soon got into a quarrel. Stoddemeyer drew his pistol and fired at Page. The latter, however, knocked the weapon upward, and the ball went into the ceiling. Page then wrenched the pistol from Stoddemeyer, and the latter drew a second pistol, and the two combatants were about to perforate each other when Marshal Gillette appeared on the premises with a double-barrelled shotgun And corralled to both of them. They were taken before court the following morning and fined $25 each, and Stoddemeyer was placed under bond in the sum of $250 to keep the peace. My election to the Marshalship of El Paso I attribute solely to my training as a ranger, and to the notoriety my kidnapping of Baca out of Mexico had given me, so that the Marshalship of the town was one of the direct fruits of my ranger's service. I was an officer of El Paso for several years. Not long after my acceptance of the marshalship, Captain C.L. Neville, with whom I had served in Lieutenant Reynolds' company, resigned his ranger command and became sheriff and tax collector of Presidio County, Texas. The Marfa country was now seen to be a very promising cattle section, so Captain Neville and myself formed a partnership and embarked in the cattle business. This did not in the least interfere with our duties as sheriff and marshal, respectively, and we soon built up a nice little herd of cattle. In the spring of 1885, General Gano and Sons of Dallas, Texas, formed a company known as the Estada Land and Cattle Company. The new concern arranged to open a big ranch in Brewster County. And General Gano wrote to Captain Neville asking him, please, to secure a good cattleman as ranch manager for the new company. Neville at once wrote me and advised me to accept this position. In his letter, he jokingly remarked, Jim, you have had a quart cup of bullets shot at you while a ranger and marshal, and now that you have a chance to quit and get something less hazardous, I advise you to do it. Besides, you will be near our own little ranch, and can see your own cattle from time to time. I consider the proposition seriously, and on the first day of April, 1885, I resigned from the police force of El Paso. I became a cowboy again. In accepting the marshal ship, I reaped the fruits of my ranger service, and now in resigning from that position, I completely severed all my My connection with the Ranger Force. And all that it had brought me, henceforth my ranger days and ranger service, were to be but a memory, albeit the most happy and cherished one of my life. I was manager of the Estada Land and Cattle Company's ranch for nearly six years, and during that period the herd increased from six to thirty thousand head. When I resigned the ranch managership, it was that I might attend to my own ranch interests. which had also grown in that period, though today I own a large and prosperous ranch in the Marfa country, and though my business interests are many and varied, I still cherish the memory of my ranger days, and am never too busy to see an old ranger comrade and relive with him those six adventurous, happy, and thrilling years I was a member of the Frontier Battalion of the Texas Rangers. The End End of Six Years with the Texas Rangers 1875-1881 by James B. Gillette