W.G. GILMORE - ATTORNEY

(and legal paper of Wm. L. Humphrey)

Recorded by Helen M. Smith, Field Reporter

I could tell you enough tales of early Cochise County to make several volumes, but half of it would not bear printing, and half of the rest would not dare be printed. My age? I’ll tell you that, when I came here and why, when I am in the mood. Just now I prefer to discuss something else.

Gambling? That brings Jim Herron to mind at once. I got into Tombstone about dusk one night, went to a hotel and brushed up a bit. After supper I drifted into a saloon. At a table quite near the door a poker game was in progress. I lingered to watch. Someone at the table called a man whom I afterward found to be Jim Herron. He laid down his hand—three black eights—and raked in the pot. The others at the table looked at one another tensely for a moment and then settled back in their chairs. The poker game continued.

Speaking of Jim Herron, I am reminded of the only penitentiary sentence he ever served. Jim was caught by Charlie McKinney and several others in the act of skinning a heifer. He was prosecuted but was acquitted in spite of the evidence. I then prosecuted him on another charge of cattle stealing, and he was convicted, and sent to Florence. He had been there about four months when I received a letter from him asking me to see that he got a new suit of clothes somehow. He said he had not gone suitably prepared for the sort of life they lived there, and had worn out all the decent clothes he took with him. Jim had not been used to society life in Courtland.

Florence was quite a joke as a penitentiary. I remember that Dan Danielson was killed by a negro girl, who was convicted and sentence to three years in Florence, on a charge of manslaughter. While the jury was still in attendance, the clerk of the parole board wired to Tombstone and asked if some excuse for pardoning the girl could not somehow be found. The jury held an indignation meeting, and I wired back angrily asking if the parole board could not possibly wait until the jury had disbanded.

Some funny things happened during prohibition. Arizona went dry Jan. 1st, 1915. From then on until sometime in 1918 New Mexico was wet. It was a crime to bring intoxication liquor from a wet state to a dry state, according to law. This did not prevent several people from bringing over the liquor. The city treasurer of Nogales got into the liquor business, using city funds to buy the liquor, and replacing the money when he sold the stuff. I returned from California one summer about that time, and the sheriff said to me, “There was a man here looking for you—says he is acquainted with you.” “Who was he?” “Smith, of Nogales.” “He doesn’t know me—he knows of me. What did he want?” “Some friends of his were caught with two cars, between San Simon and Stein’s Pass, with thirty cases of whiskey in each car. We have the cars and ten cases of whiskey!”

I wrote to Smith, who immediately came to Douglas. He would not talk to me in my office, but insisted in discussing the case in the middle of the street, only. I asked him what connection he had in the case, and he replied that the two men were friends of his. Both were Mexicans. I agreed to defend them and named my price. He paid me willingly, but waited until after dark and paid me out in the street. He was a very cautious man.

I went at once to the sheriff and asked about the whereabouts of the remaining fifty cases of whiskey. The deputy had brought in ten cases, which were stored in the sheriff’s office. “What difference does that make to you?” asked the sheriff. “Why,” I replied, “I need them for evidence.” “I don’t know,” the sheriff said. “The deputy brought in only ten cases.

I went to San Simon to see the deputy. “Where are the fifty cases of whiskey?” I asked him. “I don’t know,” “Then you have lost the evidence?” “Somebody must have stolen them,” the deputy said. “You are a liar and you know it. You probably took that whiskey back to Stein’s Pass and sold it back to the fellow who had it originally. Did you sell it in Stein’s Pass or in Globe?”

The deputy broke down and confessed that ten cases had been resold in Stein’s Pass, and the rest in Globe. It had been a lucky guess of mine, but he believed that I had the evidence against him. I told him that he was not to appear against my two clients, and there was the end of the matter.

I was living in Tombstone during the Mexican War. While the battle of Agua Prieta was being fought, Jeff Milton, an old friend, Texas and Arizona ranger, Wells Fargo guard, best shot in the territory, said to me, “Let’s go to Douglas and see the fight.” With three or four others we drove to Douglas. The driver let us out in front of the Gadsden. We went from there toward the line. At about 4th Street we could hear the bullets whine through the air, and then zip as they struck the sand. As we approached the line it seemed to me that they were getting thicker. “Jeff,” I said casually, “these bullets are getting a little thicker, aren’t they?” Oh, that’s all right. If you are scared walk along behind me,” Jeff answered. (He was at least three feet broad.) I swore a little, bit I did NOT walk along behind him.

Here is an incident of the Mexican War, and I will give it to you from the records, exactly as it is written.

The United States of America On behalf of William L. Humphrey

-vs-

The United Mexican States

The United States of America, on behalf of William L. Humphrey, respectfully represent to the Special Claims Commission, United States and Mexico, the following:

Claimant, William L. Humphrey, was born in Sacramento County, State of California, United States of America, on December 20, 1853, is a citizen of the United States, and ever since his birth has been and has remained a citizen of the United states and has never taken any oath of allegiance to any other country, or done any other act to impair his privileges as a citizen of the United States.

This claim is preferred for and on behalf of the claimant, William L. Humphrey, in his own right. The entire amount of the claim does now, and did at the time it had its origin belong solely and absolutely to this claimant, and no other person has been or is now interested therein, or any part thereof.

Claimant proceeded to the territory of Arizona, United States of America, in 1880, and since that date has remained a resident of the said territory and afterward a resident of the said state, residing in Cochise County. Claimant was engaged in the teaming business, in hauling ore and other commodities in the territory, and afterward the State of Arizona, for many years prior to the year 1914. A few years prior to the year 1914 he became a resident of the town of Naco, in Cochise County, Ariz. And was engaged in conduction a lodging house in the said town of Naco, but owing to the facts herein after related as to the destruction of his property by Mexican military forces, he has not been engaged in the lodging house business since the month of October in the year 1914, but has remained a resident of the town of Naco ever since.

Claimant owned and operated a lodging house of eighteen rooms and also a four roomed house which was used for rental purposes to lodgers, on lots 413 and 415 in block 12 of the town-site of Naco, Cochise County, Arizona; claimant also owned a six roomed residence on lots 411 in the same block of said town-site, all of said buildings being located about two blocks from the International boundary line separating the United States and Mexico. The title to the said lots was held in the name of his wife, Manuela Humphrey, and were acquired by claimant in the year 1913. The said town of Naco is situated on the International boundary line, and the said town-site reaches to the International boundary line; immediately across the line and south of the town-site of Naco, Arizona, is situated the town of Naco, Sonora, Mexico. The said lodging house was filled with furniture suitable to lodging house purposes, the said four roomed cottage was also filled with furniture, and the said six roomed house was filled with furniture suitable to dwelling house purposes. All said buildings faced the West, and said lodging house was nearest to the International boundary line and nearest to the town of Naco, Sonora, Mexico. The four roomed cottage was immediately north of the lodging house, the south wall of which was about six feet from the north wall of the lodging house, the six roomed residence was about the same distance north of the four roomed cottage. All of the buildings were substantially constructed of wood, weather-boarded on the outside and ceiled on the inside with wooden ceiling, all had single roofs. The said buildings were situated close together, and in the month of October, 1914, were dry and highly inflammable.

That on the 2nd of October, 1914, the town of Naco, Sonora, Mexico, was held by Mexican military forces commanded by General Plutareo Elias Calles, now the President of the Republic of Mexico, and by General Hill, also a Mexican General; that on or about the second of October, 1914, the town of Naco, Sonora, was invested and surrounded by Mexican military forces of General Maytorena, who was acting in harmony with General Francisco Villa, and who was known as a “Villista” by General Urbalejo, by General Tomas Rosoe, by General Acosta and by General Trujillo, that immediately thereafter the Mexican military force of General Montorena commenced to bombard the town of Naco with machine guns and other military weapons; that about the 16th of October, 1914, the engagement between the forces of Generals Hill and Calles on the one hand, and General Maytorena on the other, became more pronounced and desperate, that the forces of General Hill was disposed on three sides of the town of Naco, Sonora, on the east side, the south side, and the west side; that the trenches of the Maytorena forces described a semi-circle, with the International boundary line as the chord thereof; that while the fire of the Mayorena forces directed toward the town of Naco, Sonora, yet during the nighttime many bullets from the guns of the Maytorena forces found their way into the town of Naco, Arizona, across the International boundary line, into the United States of America; that about eleven o’clock p.m. on the night of the 16th of October, 1914, while the machine gun firing from the Maytorena forces was particularly heavy, a bullet struck a large glass coal-oil lighted lamp sitting on the piano in the front room of said residence, breaking the lamp and scattering oil over and about the piano; that the curtains and music in the room thereby caught fire and set fire to the room and the building, which in turn set fire to the said four room cottage and the lodging house; and that before anything could be done to avert the disaster, the said buildings were consumed with all their contents, and were consequently a total loss to claimant; claimant was not actually present in any one of the three houses at the time of the fire was started. He had gone to the home of his son-in-law several blocks distant to spend the night; that the home of his son-in-law was an adobe building and consequently safer than said buildings belonging to claimant. I handled this claim myself, and will collect the entire amount of the claim very soon.

There is another matter which I think should be on record, and which I will tell you about, since I probably know more about it than any other man. Along about the first of July, 1917, there was a strike in Butte, Montana, in the mines. There were about three hundred and fifty IWW’s in Bisbee working in the mines. The head of the Bisbee unit was a fellow named Embree—a very clever, highly educated man. He could read and speak both French and German as fluently as those of these nationalities. When they pulled the strike in Bisbee, it was really in sympathy with the strikers in Montana. They made some demands on the company impossible of fulfillment. Just what their ultimate purpose was, nobody knows. It was during the World War and copper was a major commodity. The company naturally wanted to get out as much as possible.

The strikers would gather around the post-office, in the park, and various public places, have speeches, yell, and make more or less of a holiday. They never destroyed property or made much of a nuisance of themselves. The city authorities were in sympathy with the companies, and they and the county authorities eventually prohibited meetings of this kind in most places. Finally there was no place left for the Wobblies’ meeting but the city park. One day about noon, the Mayor, the City Clerk, four or five councilmen, and the sheriff, and Embree had a meeting in the city hall. The Mayor told Embree they had decided to prohibit meetings in the city park. Jake Ericson was the Mayor; Wheeler was the sheriff—a very jealous individual, who wished to be the “I” in everything.

Embree said: “Well, Mr. Ericson, I have controlled my men up to the present time, but if you take away all their privileges, I may not be able to do so longer.”

Wheeler was sitting on the edge of a table across the room. He slipped off the table, walked across there room and stuck his finger in Embree’s face. “If you can’t control your men, I can!” he shouted. Embree said quietly, “I know you can.” The meeting broke up, Wheeler got in his car and drove to Warren to see Captain Greenway, the head of the C and A Mining company.” I’m going to run the strikers out tomorrow morning.” Wheeler told the Captain. “I don’t think it a good plan,” Greenway answered, “I think you are too hasty.” “You said you’d stand by me,” answered Wheeler. “Yes, I’m willing to stand by you in the performance of your duty, but I think your plan quite ill-advised,” was the reply. “My mind is made up that the Wobblies start out tomorrow morning,” was Wheeler’s parting sentence as he left Greenway’s presence.

The camp was divided into two parts, each covered by a captain—Miles Merril was one Captian and Bassett Watkins the other. When Wheeler left Greenway he went to these captains and told them he was going to run the Wobblies out at three o’clock the next morning. Watkins said, “All right, my men will be there.” Merill said, “ I don’t know about this—I don’t know that I want to undertake this without more thought.” Wheeler turned his back to Merrill, saying to Watkins: “I thought he had guts, but he hasn’t.” Together Watkins and Wheeler shamed Merrill into agreeing to the plan.

They had a meeting that night which was closed to everyone in sympathy with the strikers. Wheeler soon had control of the telegraph offices, and his men started to gather in the supposed Wobblies. The original plan was to gather up about one hundred and fifty of the most radical IWW’s, but instead they gathered one thousand, one hundred and eighty-seven men, put them in cattle cars, and shipped them into New Mexico. Many of these men had no connection with the IWW’s. As these men were being loaded into the cars, they formed a line from the depot past the post-office, and a way up into Tombstone canyon.

No one knows where Captain Wheeler was from seven until nine in the morning, but finally he appeared, and with a great deal of ostentation crashed in the doors of the IWW building; but of course nothing was found which was of an incriminating nature.

I was one of the attorneys in this case, and there was no word on record and no evidence to show that any of the company authorities had anything to do with hatching up this plan. It was shown that Captain Greenway opposed it. It seems that the scheme was born in the egotism and jealousy of Wheeler.

Next time I will tell you some stories of earlier times than these

Copied from microfilm by Wilola Follett, transcribed by Vynette Sage, made available and maintained on the internet via Jean Walker.

USGENWEB NOTICE: These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or persons. Persons or organizations desiring to use this material must obtain written consent of the archivist or submitter.

---