Perfectly Patagonia

 Subtly funky Patagonia, situated between Nogales and Sonoita on southern Arizona's Highway 82, might just be my new favorite little Arizona town, the epitome of adorable. With a history tracing back to Jesuit Father Eusebio Kino's forays into the region in the 1500s, parts of the town reflect the Spanish influence. The train depot, though, is pure turn-of-the-century western, while the small, square, concrete Marshall's Office and jail are 1920s WPA (Works Progress Administration). Other structures hearken back to 1950s road-trip culture, and the Velvet Elvis Pizza Shop adds just-enough-modern-funk to be charming and yet not so much to be ruined by its own preciousness. Open roads in each direction are rich with pre-territorial and territorial-era military history and are pure joy to drive for the varied open terrain. Even on this mid-July Arizona day, when Phoenix-area temperatures rose to 114, at 4050 foot elevation, Patagonia was ideal - the kind of day you'd say, "Yeah, let's sit outside for a while," and enjoy the green hillside views brought to you courtesy of this year's monsoon.

The town's name derives from the Spanish and means "big foot." Some early sources said it was so called for the distinctively big feet of local Indians. The town itself was named after the nearby Patagonia Mountains, which were named after the Patagonia Mine, which had been so-named in 1859 by Lt. Sylvester Mowry, who purchased the mine from a Mexican. The naming origin gets more confusing, though: Originally, Patagonia indicated the post office founded in 1866 at the Mowry Mine, ten miles to the south; the first postmaster at that location was Lt. Mowry's brother, Charles. 

A Pennsylvanian and Civil War veteran by name of Rollen Rice Richardson, made wealthy by eastern oil money, bought large ranch holdings in the region, including Monkey Springs Ranch and the abandoned Camp Crittenden. By 1890, Richardson and his two partners had a vast cattle enterprise but the drought devastated the enterprise. Richardson sold out everything but 500 acres which included the site of today's town of Patagonia. Richardson moved the town of Crittenden, residents and all, to the site in 1896. Sadly for Richardson's legacy, the townspeople refused to support his quest to name the town (via name of the post office) Rollen, but in a turn of good luck for lovers of appealing and interesting names, they chose the name Patagonia for their new town, co-opting the name from the previous post office at the mine. The post office at the current Patagonia was established in 1900 under the oversight of postmistress Mamie M. Cretin.

The mine itself had been a rich source of silver and lead deposits, and Lt. Mowry himself - recently retired from the U.S. Army - was accused by the military of using the mine's lead to make bullets, which he sold to the Confederacy. Lt. Mowry was arrested, charged with treason, and held at Fort Yuma, and the mine confiscated by the Army. Lt. Mowry was never court-martialed and later sued the federal government and culpable army staffers in vain. The marker above is in front of the train station at Patagonia.

The train station, built in 1900, stood along the now-abandoned tracks that were built in the 1880s to connect Nogales to Benson. The peak of the railroad's use came during World War II, when thousands of tons of ore were shipped out of the area's mines each month to support the war effort. As the mines shut down, a preservation-minded citizen, recognizing the significance of the train depot, purchased it.

By the 1930s, the Mowry Mine townsite was a ghost town, but the Works Progress Administration brought some work to the area: the small town jail above was built by WPA crews. The WPA also hired authors to chronicle America and its history; their volume on 1930s Arizona included visits to Patagonia and neighboring areas. 

At the time of the WPA writers' visit, the town boasted 500 residents, considerably more than the 133 who occupied the town when the train station was built. Throughout these decades, the community's Methodist Church, shown below, served the faithful. Built around 1923 by local residents, the elegant stained glass windows were added by local artist Jean Burger in the late 1980s throughout the 1990s. According to the plaque to the left of the door, the window shown here is called "Cross Window and White Rose" and employs the "Tiffany method of stained glass art." 

Across the main road of town, look for the wonderful PIGS station below, a throwback to rural stations of mid-century roadtrips. What's not to love about Patagonia? Even at today's record-high gas prices, a roadtrip to Patagonia - and while you're at it, nearby Sonoita and Elgin - is worth the time and money. If you're from the Phoenix or Tucson metro area, you'll feel like you're in an entirely different state - and no matter where you're from, you'll feel like you're a time traveler visiting an entirely different era.  

Copyright (c) 2022 Marcy J. Miller * All rights reserved * No part of this content, including photographs, may be used without the express permission of the author * Links and shares, however, may be freely shared and are appreciated. All photographs by Marcy J. Miller.

Partial list of sources: 

Will C. Barnes, Arizona Place Names, 1960 edition

The WPA Guide to 1930s Arizona

John and Lillian Theobald, Arizona Territory Post Offices and Postmasters, 1961

Ray Brandes, Frontier Military Posts of Arizona, 1960

Arizona Highways Magazine

On-site placards and historical markers

The Site of the Bisbee Massacre, the Lynching of John Heath, and the Grim End of the Cochise County Cowboys

 As a child, already enthralled by Arizona's history and constantly poring over my Dad's library of books on the subject, I was simultaneously mesmerized and intrigued by a grim photograph of a blindfolded man dangling by the neck from the crossbar of a pole, a dapperly-dressed crowd gathered beneath his feet. His name, John Heath - whatever book I'd first seen the photo in had "John Heith" in the caption - stuck with me. I later learned the backstory of the photo, and over the years I revisited the photo many times in many different sources, first in the brittle pages of fly-jacketed volumes of local history, then online. This morning I visited the site where the photo was taken.

On the southeast corner of Toughnut and 2nd Street in Tombstone, just slightly off the tourist-beaten path to the east, is a historical placard. It stands on the edge of a neatly-kept property with a small, charming picket-fenced cottage, the famous Tombstone Courthouse looming in the background. 

What's most interesting in the larger photo above is the stump of a pole to the left of the placard. That is the stump of the telegraph pole from which Heath was hanged by the angry mob. 

The crime for which Heath had been lynched was shocking to the people of A.T. (Arizona Territory) despite the frequency of violent crimes in the region. Later dubbed "the Bisbee Massacre," it was a robbery-gone-bad. Hoping to rob the Goldwater and Castaneda Mercantile of the payroll for the Copper Queen Mine, members of the Cochise County Cowboys gang tied up their horses down the street to the east, near the smelter for the Copper Queen Mine. They entered the general store only to find the payroll hadn't arrived yet. They did, however, take what was available as well as rob everyone in the store at the moment. They made off with perhaps as much as $3,000 dollars plus watches and jewelry. Citizens nearby recognized a robbery in progress and intervened. The shootings commenced. The first man shot was J. C. Tappenier, an assayer for the mine. Next, a San Pedro rancher and Deputy Sheriff, C. Tom Smith, having dinner across the street, confronted them, allegedly identifying himself as a peace officer. Members of the gang quickly felled him with a shot to the head. They shot lumberman J. A. "Tex" Nolly in the chest, and shot the pregnant proprietor of a boarding house, Mrs. Annie Roberts, who'd come out to see what was going on. The bullet penetrated her spine and later proved lethal. Another man was struck in the leg by a wayward bullet and injured while fleeing, but did not die.

 

Here - at 26 Main Street, Bisbee - is the Letson Loft Hotel, which now occupies the building that once housed the Goldwater & Castaneda Store, where the Bisbee Massacre occurred. (c) 2022 Marcy J. Miller 

  

This view, with the former Goldwater & Castaneda Store on the extreme left edge, shows a street view in the direction of where the horses would have been tied. Bisbee's narrow streets didn't accommodate buckboards and horses tied in front of businesses, making a quick getaway difficult. (c) 2022 Marcy J. Miller

Outrage over the brutal, senseless crimes was immediate. Posses quickly assembled and pursued the members of the gang. The first posse, headed by Cochise County Deputy Sheriff William "Billy" Daniels, left Bisbee immediately in pursuit. That posse included none other than John Heath, who'd been deputized for the purpose of pursuing the robbers. 

Meanwhile, the culpable cowboy gang assembled to the north at Soldier's Hole, a historic site east of the Dragoon Mountains and between Gleeson and Elfrida, where they split their haul and then split up. Once serving as a stop on the Butterfield Overland Stage route - among other utilitarian purposes - Soldier's Hole (alternately known as Soldier Holes, Soldier's Holes, and Descanso)  is an unremarkable flat patch of land now commemorated by a historical marker. The robbers gathered there included Omer "Tex" Howard, Red Sample, Daniel "York" Kelly, Daniel "Big Dan" Dowd, and William E. "Billy" Delaney. John Heath knew them from a spread in the Sulphur Springs Valley known as the Buckles Ranch, and once Deputy Daniels was able to identify Tex Howard, suspicion soon fell on John Heath in a clear case of guilt by association. The men were rounded up in various corners of the region: Tex and Red were found north of Clifton; Big Dan and Billy were found across the border in Sonora; and York made it as far east as Deming. 

The men were reunited in Tombstone. After a three-day trial presided over by Judge Daniel Pinney, five of the men - Tex Howard, Red Sample, York Kelly, Big Dan Down, and Billy Delaney were found guilty on February 18, 1884, and sentenced to be hanged until dead. Four of them had been identified by eyewitnesses at the scene of the crime or during their flight immediately afterwards. John Heath, however, was tried separately. No eyewitness tied him to the crime, but a cavalry soldier who'd been locked up with the men testified he'd heard the gang - Heath included - discussing their aborted attempt at robbery. Based on his testimony, Heath was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to life at the notorious Yuma Territorial Prison. (The soldier who testified against him, likely in exchange for his testimony, received a lenient sentence at Yuma for the murder he had committed.)

The stately Cochise County Courthouse in Tombstone, Arizona, where the Cochise County Cowboys were tried and convicted for the Bisbee Massacre. (c) Marcy J. Miller

Frontier justice intervened. While the five men who'd been sentenced to death lived on for another m month in jail, awaiting their execution, on February 22, 1884, Heath was busted out of jail by an armed lynch mob and cruelly, slowly strangled to death, drawn up by manually by the neck via the rope slung over the telegraph pole. Guilty, if at all, of nothing more than participating in planning the crime and perhaps attempting to misdirect the posse as the others fled, he faced the cruelest death of all the men. On March 28, 1884, his compadres were professionally hanged on a specially-built gallows behind the Tombstone Courthouse, and all but Big Dan Dowd died promptly when the gallows door dropped. The drop wasn't adequate for Big Dan, though, and he strangled just as Heath had. 

A thousand people were in attendance for the grim display, many of whom paid $1.50 each for a seat in a specially-constructed grandstand. The bodies hung for about half an hour before being cut down and removed to the mortuary for examination; all but Omer "Red" Sample died of strangulation. He, being more fortunate than the others, incurred a dislocated neck during the hanging. The bodies were given a Christian burial at nearby Boot Hill Cemetery where, just as during the execution, visitors continue to find them a source of entertainment. John Heath's body, initially interred there as well, was later relocated to his home state, but a less-reverential resurfacing was spared his partners in crime. The "Angel of the Mining Camps," famed and kind-hearted Tombstonian Nellie Cashman, prevented the condemned mens' bodies from being dug up and used for medical research. She arranged for local miners to guard the graves for ten days and prevent exhumation. It was Nellie, too, who was horrified by the spectacle that attended the mens' execution, and arranged for the destruction of a viewing platform for the audience. 

All the men proclaimed their innocence to the end, claiming they were judged wrongly based on their own reputations, but unlike Nellie Cashman they were no angels. Billy Delaney's own frequent proximity to newly-dead corpses gives a glimpse into his character; on the day of his execution, he spoke with reporters. Billy, apparently much-misunderstood throughout life, said he was born on July 11, 1856, in Scranton, Pennsylvania, and later "was supposed to have left Harrisburg under suspicion of a murder, of which I am innocent." He went on to say he'd lived in Arizona Territory for four years as a miner and prospector and was indicted in Graham County for shooting a man through the heart after the man intervened in an argument between Billy and a Mexican woman, but - Billy averred - "I am entirely innocent of this crime," and stated he was misjudged based on his own reputation.  The Arizona Daily Star described him as a "short, well-built man about five feet four inches in height; he has clear, intelligent eyes, black hair, a well-developed forehead, and expresses himself in a gentlemanly language." 

Twenty-four year old Missouri-born Omer "Red" Sample also avowed his innocence on the gallows, saying "I am to be hung for a crime I never committed." The paper described him as a "splendid specimen of physical manhood," and 6'1" in height, already suffering from a gunshot wound in his side and "of a brutal countenance." The writer described Daniel Kelly as 25 years old, with a very dark complexion, 5'6" tall; Tex Howard was 24, born in Texas, and with an intelligent, manly face - and real name unknown. Daniel Dowd was 27, 180 pounds, and had come to Arizona four years previously. He, Howard, and Delaney echoed Red Sample's proclamation of innocence in the moments before Kelly said, "Let her loose!" and the gallows trap was sprung. 

Shortly after the crime had occurred, and while the gang was still on the run, another paper, the Weekly Republican, via the Benson Herald) provided physical descriptions of the men as well. Red Sample - called "Big Red" in that edition - had light hair, very red complexion, and a badly crippled right hand from partially-healed gun shot wounds, with part of his thumb shot off. Big Red had a distinctly receding chin and round shoulders. Dan Kelly was "splendidly built" and had a thin mustache, while Tex Howard - called simply "Tex" in this article - was a well-built 5'11, 160, with light brown hair and a light complexion. Mis-understood Delaney had a mustache, too.

As for ill-fated John Heath's physical countenance, he was described as 5'6", 150, with a dark complexion, very black hair, and very dark mustache - and a glass eye on the right side. 

The tidy cottage now standing on the corner where John Heath was lynched. The telegraph pole from which he hanged is to the right side of the picket fence on the right edge of the lot. This view faces south. (c) Marcy J. Miller

(c) 2022 Marcy J. Miller * All rights reserved * No part of this content may be reproduced, including photos, without the express permission of the author * Links to this page may be freely shared and are appreciated! Thank you for stopping by.