In the years before the United States entered World War I, the border country was involved with Mexico’s Revolution in which several factions supporting different leaders warred it out. There were numerous incidents in Naco, Nogales, and other more isolated locations. For several years residents lived in a state of fear.

By 1912 the U.S. Cavalry had been sent to the Mexican border to forestall trouble.  On March 15, 1913 there was a battle between Sonoran state and Federal forces in Nogales, Sonora.  In 1915 the Battle of Nogales occurred in which U.S. troops fought across the border with Mexican troops.  Soldiers were stationed on the streets of Nogales. As more incidents happened along the border, there began to be a demand for intervention by the United States, culminating in the expedition by General Pershing with the 10th Cavalry into Mexico in March 1916. On June 18, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson responded by calling out the National Guard. Thousands of troops were sent to the border. Troop B, Cavalry, of the 5th Connecticut National Guard was one of those units stationed at Camp Little in Nogales and sent from there to Arivaca.  We have an amazing record, both written and photographs, of their activities which includes the following from troop history and the Captain’s diary:

“On August 4, 1916, the General appeared on the hill . . . and ordered our troop to evacuate without delay, and take possession of an unknown hamlet amid the mountains to the westward, known as Arivaca.  He told Capt Davis the place was strategically important, and should be occupied by a squadron, but that he had every confidence in the ability of the troop to control the situation–equipped as they were with healthy horses and healthy men and able officers.  Up to that time no other outfit had been regarded efficient enough to fill an independent post and we were perhaps justly elated….Escorting Springfield Kelleys over paths called roads by courtesy, rivers without bridges, and along precipices which might cave in any minute, was a new experience, and I venture to say, will be no sooner forgotten than will the panorama westward towards Baboquivari be forgotten by those troopers who traveled by horse through the pass from Tubac.

“We spent almost nine weeks at Arivaca encamped within the confines of a barbed wire enclosure, flanked by adobe walled store–adobe church and adobe residences occupied by both men and chickens and cattle.  We guarded the old smugglers’ trail leading southward from Tucson to Saric.  We patrolled the mining and cattle country to the southward along the Border.  Montana, California Gulch, the Stone House (Casa Piedra), La Osa, Tres Bellotas, Sasabi, Buenos Ayres and Oro Blanca became familiar names and still recall familiar scenes.

“It would take too long to tell every episode of interest which transpired during our tour of duty on the Border.  But for the benefit of those of you who weren’t there let me sketch for you a few of the incidents of our life at Arivaca together with now and then a portrait of some of the men who worked with us.

“Bugles blown by Haynes and Taylor cut the chill morning air, as one finds it before sunrise. . . After reporting, everybody seeks the picket line with currycomb and brush.. . After grooming and feeding we all wash up and go to breakfast..   Passing down the line, each man gets three pieces of sow belly, bread or hardtack with raspberry jam, a cup of coffee and some oatmeal.

“After breakfast watering is in order. . . in a jiffy the whole troop is mounted bareback in column of twos and on the way to Arivaca Crick, which with full stream flows past the town and within two miles thereafter runs dry.

“Troop went out for a couple of hours ride to a nearby ranch, where they watched the branding of the cattle.  Saw quite a few picturesque cowboys.

“About 11:30 the morning labors are finished.  Everybody tries to take it easy–or rather everybody assumes a sleeping posture and spends the hour of recreation beating off the flies that hover over the camp thicker than locusts in Egypt.  We lunch on cold tea, spaghetti and blackberry jam, and after a suitable siesta, fatigue call sounds.  The “Top” reels off a list of things to be done that must have the taxed the ingenuity of someone higher up who does the thinking.  Men of artistic temperament… are turned loose on the whitewash brush with instructions to whiten and sterilize every fence post and adobe wall in sight.

“Sgt Westbrook is ordered to take his platoon out and start a new latrine because the last one we dug, measuring three feet wide, sixteen feet long and twelve feet deep, is half full, and digging in Arivaca is no cinch. . . as a result of the afternoon’s labor he will be able to report a full three inches of solid progress. (The first latrine was dug by means of dynamite)

August 24: Reveille at 5:15 and all cooked their own meals of bacon and potatoes.  Camp broken immediately and start made by 7:00. The ride took us over toward the Border and we rode right file for practically all day.  The scenery today was even greater than the day before, over the greatest of mountain trails.  We passed by about 18 abandoned mines, the help having gone over to Mexico to fight when the trouble broke out.  About 11:00 we came to  Mexican outpost and saw 6 or 8 good husky Mexicans with arms and horses the other side of a wire fence, all standing near an adobe house.

“Supper composed of beans, bread and blackberry jam is served at 5:30 and generally just as the sun has disappeared beyond the western mountain range clothing the majestic Baboquivari and, in fact, all of the surrounding country, in one of the richest sunsets you ever saw, the ceremony of guard mount takes place…

“In the evening an orchestra of three pieces, Mexican, entertained us for about an hour with songs and national airs.

“At ten o’clock every man, except the guard, even those who have avoided blackberry jam and beans by spending their day’s pay at Carmelita’s, has turned in for a night of rest, justly weary from either thirty miles of patrol duty, fatigue duty, guard duty or cook detail.

“In Pottsdam, Germany, it is said, one sees an unusually large number of very tall men.  These are the descendants of the women of the town and the tall guards of Frederick the Great, who were quartered for over fifty years in that city.  At Arivaca, I am proud to say, the conduct of the troopers was above reproach, and if we believe the letters we have received since our return, we have left in Pima County, Arizona, a favorable impression which will not soon be forgotten.

“On Tuesday morning, October 10th, Lieut. Thompson with troopers from the 2nd Cavalry arrived at Arivaca and relieved us. . . at 1 pm that afternoon began the march by way of Montana Peak and Bear Valley back to Nogales.  That moonlight ride of the mountains and through Bear Valley, still untouched by the hand of man, will not soon be forgotten by those who knew and loved that wilderness and grandeur.”

Troop B of the Connecticut National Guard returned home without firing a shot towards the South.  The Secretary of War thanked them and said that they had made possible a peaceful solution of a difficult and threatening problem.  So it was for just cause that we welcomed the current group of cavalrymen, now known as First Company, Governor’s Horse Guard, to Arivaca in January of 2011, 95 years after Troop B. They plan to return with a larger group in due time.

Reference:

The Origin and Fortunes of Troop B, Cavalry, Connecticut National Guard, 1917, edited by James L. Howard. Hartford, CT: The Case, Lockwood and Brainard Co, 1921.

Eufemianio Moyza was born in 1854 of Spanish and German descent. After his first wife died,  he married Angelita Mejia who was from Sonora. They had eight children: Petra, Magdalena, Lencho, Rafael, Manuel, Ramon, Ramoncito and Nacho.  The eldest daughter, Petra, married Ramon Badilla who was born on the Sopori.  He came to live with his wife’s family at the Moyza ranch where they built their own home.  Two of their children, Dolores Badilla Celaya and Lupe Badilla, told stories about growing up on the ranch in the 1930s:

“During the summer we always had a lot of people (relatives) come to the ranch and stay there for one or two months to help with the work.   My uncles and my dad would get horses that were not tame and have like a rodeo in an arroyo.  People would be around the edge watching and eating watermelons.

“My grandfather was known as a horseman.  He had two horses that I remember, one named Butterfly and one named Tommy.  Sometimes he would have to bring milk cows into the corral.  He would put his dog, Galafo, on one of the horses and say, “Go get the cow!” And off they would go, the dog on top of the horse.  But that horse would only do that when he was wearing his saddle.  Take it off and he’d keep going!

At the end of Moyza Ranch road there used to be a huge lake one or two miles long.  Twenty feet deep.  From there there would be a acequia or creek and water would come from there to another lake or water hole, close by the house.  From there they could open the gate to get water for farming.

“Our grandfather did a lot of farming.   They would plant milo maize in March and by the middle of June or July it had a lot of seeds on it and the cattle would eat that.  They had a two-story barn and they would store it and feed it to them in the winter.  They had several hundred head of beef cattle but they also had around forty milk cows. There was a big garden and all summer long there were the zucchini and corn and beans.  In the winter there would still be a lot of chile and tomatoes.  We would put watermelons in the haystack and at Christmas we’d still be eating watermelons.   My uncle Manuel was called “El Verdolero.”  The vegetable man.  He used to take a truckload of vegetables up to Ruby and sell them.  (They also took them to Tucson).

“We used to have apple trees, peach,  pears, apricots, a grape vine and figs.  I guess it was because my grandfather grew up in California.  Every year we’d go up to the Guijas in a wagon and get peaches and my grandmother would dry them or make empanadas or pies.

“My grandmother used to make pudding from the elderberry trees.  We used to call it atol de tapiro.  Tapiro is elderberry.  The pudding is made from the berries.  You soak them and clean them and put them through a cheesecloth and squeeze out all the juice.  You put in some water and bring it to a boil and it has all this foam on top.  They used to say that it would give you a stomach ache so you have to keep taking off the foam.  Then you put in cinnamon sticks and sugar and a little bit of flour to thicken it.  We still make it.  My cousin Socorro and I go to Tubac now to the berries. You can make a tea from the dried elderberry flowers to take for a cold or fever or stomach ache.

“My grandmother used to make pudding from the mesquite beans, the pechita.  At that time they had a molino (mill).  My grandmother had to soak the mesquite beans and grind them and put them through a strainer.  It has a very unique taste.  You can use cinnamon or vanilla or eggs to make a different flavor.    In October, right after the pumpkin harvest my mother and grandmother would make pumpkin candy.  Then all of of would go up to the hills and get a barrel cactus and they would make cactus candy out of it.  My brother would go out on horseback and drag home the largest one we could find and cut all the stickers off.  It was like a pineapple. They would cut all the shell off.  Inside there is a white meat.  They would put it in limewater first, and then cook it with a lot of sugar.   I remember it was so good.

“In May and June, right before the monsoon season, we would all go out to look for chuquita, the white sap from the mesquite tree, because after the rains started it would all be gone.  And we would get big jars of it.  We chewed it or we would make a tea with it.  We’d dissolve it and put sugar in it.   In the spring we would go hunting for covenas.  There is one with a yellow flower and one with a blue flower.  We would dig them up and eat the little bulb.  We had prickly pear at the ranch–nopalitos.  I like them raw.  I burn the stickers off and then cut them up and put them in a salad.  We used to go up in the hills and pick up bellotas.  There was a place somewhere in the Sardina where my grandfather used to pick chiltepines.

“We used to go to Arivaca visiting with the Romeros and the Lopezes and the Caviglias.  We’d play dodge ball in the middle of the street. On Election Day my mother (Petra) and uncles would go to Arivaca early and stay all day.  It was like a get-together when everyone came to town.  My mother didn’t get out that often so it was an opportunity to see friends.”

Life on the Moyza Ranch was busy and interesting, due to the industrious nature of Eufemianio and Angelita Moyza.  But after they passed away, in 1958, the family sold the ranch. Petra bought acreage in Tucson where Dolores and Lupe still live today. The homestead was divided up, sad to say, but the area is still being farmed and cattle still roam the hills. The Moyza story is now part of a new oral history project, “Capturing Arizona’s Stories,” through a grant to the Pima County Public Library made possible by the Arizona State Library and Archives. Representatives from Library interviewed Dolores for the story of her family’s homesteading operation. Few homesteaders were as successful as her great-grandparents.  In time, they accomplished their dreams and more.  Now their story will be part of Arizona’s memories.

The Apache formed a formidable wall against expansion to the north by the Spanish. For years much of Spanish activity was designed to protect missionaries, miners and settlers from Apache attacks through the establishment of presidios. However the small numbers of troops left the civilians at the mercy of the Apache. Fr. Segesser wrote in 1739: “The Apaches, a savage and untamed people, live in the high hills towards the north, and are the sworn enemies of the converted Pimas and Opatas. They busy themselves mainly with stealing, robbing and murdering. They lie in ambush in narrow passes, allow travelers to reach the middle of a pass, then attack them from above with a hail of arrows. They are very cunning and active and murder people in the most gruesome manner if they cannot carry them off alive. To check them the king of Spain ordered a fortress built on their border. Since they are very numerous and the soldiers are, on the other hand, few, the latter cannot offer resistance everywhere.” Peace was impossible. In the early part of the 1700s Arivaca was not mentioned as a site of Apache attacks, but near the end of the century Luis Maria Belderrain (son of the first Tubac presidio captain) wrote: “Sonoita was destroyed by the Apaches in 1768 and over half the population died within the walls of the burning church. This so frightened the people of the district that they abandoned Guevavi too and concentrated the population at Tumacacori and Calabazas.

In the same general area lay the Sopori ranch, the Arivaca ranch and the mining settlements at Agua Caliente and Arizona. These four settlements together boasted a total population of over 150 Spanish families around mid-century. Today they are all abandoned, once again due to Apache pressure.” (References available upon request)

After the Pima Revolt of 1751-52, resettlement was prevented until towards the end of the century when the Spanish implemented a new Indian policy. They used gifts of inferior firearms, food, and in particular, liquor, to corrupt the Apache and weaken them. This seemed to work until around the time of Mexican independence. The new state could not afford to keep up the gifts and the Apaches went back to their former lifestyle. With their old ways they developed a great hatred of the Mexicans.

Tomas and Ignacio Ortiz had been working on their land grant in Arivaca valley for some twelve years when Apaches drove them off in 1824(?), killing three employees and a child and burning the buildings. After that they could only work the ranch sporadically, when it was safe, and the families moved to Tubac and did not come back. Depredations increased in 1846 and 1847. The Commandant at Tucson reported in 1851 that Apaches had attacked some travelers in the vicinity of the Arivaca ranch, stealing three loads of effects and taking prisoners. In 1853 the Arivaca ranch house and corrals were burned. In 1854 the Gadsden Purchase brought the area into the U. S. Troops were sent into the new territory to protect the miners and settlers. They were not always successful, so settlement was thin until the Apaches were put on the reservation in the early 1870s. Then it was finally safe to move in. The towns of Arivaca and Oro Blanco developed to serve the mining camps in the hills round about.

Now both Mexican and American troops chased the small group, pushing it from here to there. The band split into two smaller groups. Roberts says, “Geronimo took six men and four women and slipped once more through the intensive border patrol, then raided north all the way to Ojo Caliente. Along the way, he killed his last white Americans, raising the pitch of terror among the settlers.” Some of those last unfortunate Americans were Charles Owen, Mrs. A.L. Peck and her 11 month old baby in the Santa Cruz valley near Calabasas, and Phil Shanahan, just over the hills to the west in Sycamore Canyon, twenty miles southeast of Arivaca, in late April of 1886.

In his own account Geronimo did not claim credit for this raid. It is possible that the leader of this raid was the younger, English-speaking Naiche, who was with Geronimo in these last weeks. It is unknown why Mr. Peck was spared but his wife and child were slaughtered.

Phil Shanahan left John “Yank” Bartlett’s ranch in Bear Valley at the entrance to Sycamore Canyon, and headed for his own home a few miles away. His ten-year-old son Phil was staying back with his friend Johnny Bartlett, Yank’s son. A few minutes later the boys heard shots, then a yell, and Phil staggered into the yard, saying he had been shot by Indians. Yank saw he was badly wounded and would need a doctor, so he told Johnny to run to Oro Blanco to fetch Dr. Noon and warn the folks there. He directed Little Phil to go home and warn his mother and two little sisters of the danger. Phil made it there successfully and they concealed themselves in the mountains until the following day.

Johnny set off on horseback for Oro Blanco but within a few miles he saw three men ahead of him dressed in black and acting as if they were drunk. He came back quickly, finding the Indians firing on the house. He reached the house safely, but his horse and another were shot. One horse followed them into the house and fell dead in the doorway. Yank himself received a wound of which he later recovered.

When night came, Yank sent Johnny off again, and his time he succeeded on foot, going barefoot for the first two miles to move more quietly. At the Smith house, south of Oro Blanco, he found E. W. Smith, whose home had been broken into and black clothes, gun and a bottle of brandy taken. Together they went on to Oro Blanco, arriving at 2 in the morning, where the settlers were raised and armed. Johnny was put to bed. Early the next morning he and the men, including Dr Noon and Yank’s partner Hank Hewitt, set off for Bear Valley. Arriving back at the ranch, they found Shanahan on his deathbed and Mrs. Shanahan and the children newly emerged from hiding. At the Shanahan ranch the Apaches had taken all their food and clothing, killed several head of horses and run off many others. Perhaps Mrs. Shanahan would have been killed had it not been for little Phil’s warning.

For their bravery, Johnny Bartlett and Phil Shanahan were rewarded with rifles and money. However, the settlers were still uneasy. Women in particular were nervous and fearful in the wake of Mrs. Peck’s death. All summer long, Ella Searle was having friends stay with her at Oro Blanco. From Crittenden, Herman Searle wrote to say that he didn’t think they would attack Oro Blanco, since there were too many people there. Someone else thought they saw Apaches looking in the windows of the Arivaca hotel. A worried summer followed the attacks. The Apaches could move so fast and so far that no one knew exactly where they were. Indeed, there were a number of other killings that were attributed to Apaches that haven’t made it into the history books. Newspapers reported that one Henry Boston was killed by Apaches near Arivaca in June of 1886. In that same month, Santos Salono was killed in Oro Blanco Canyon (California Gulch), reportedly by Apaches. So it was with considerable relief that the settlers heard the news in September, 1886, that Geronimo had surrendered for the last time.

Join us for: “Geronimo’s Surrender: the C. S. Fly Photographs.” The story will be told in a program by Jay Van Orden, former staffer at the Arizona Historical Society, to be held at the Arivaca Old Schoolhouse on Saturday, November 13, at 11 am. Refreshments will be served. This Road Scholar Speakers’ Bureau program is sponsored by the Caviglia-Arivaca Library and is made possible by the Arizona Humanities Council.

In this presentation, Van Orden reexamines both the historical accounts and the photographed records of the surrender talks, and discusses critical, and heretofore missing, information. Van Orden integrates the updated information to add new depth to the suspenseful days of negotiations. Augmented by information retrieved from both researched eyewitness accounts and consultations with descendants of the photographed Chiricahuas, his presentation adds new historical perspective to a riveting moment in history. The Fly photographs capture the meetings, military camp scenes, and stunning views of the Chiricahua people. “The only known photographs of American Indians as Enemy-in-the-Field” were also the last ones, and with the final surrender of the Chiricahuas six months later, 350 years of Indian-Anglo warfare in North America came to an end.

Cottonwoods line the banks of Arivaca Creek. In the 1850s, the Sonora Exploring and Mining Company named one of its sites “Los Alamos, ” due to the cottonwoods there. That place, downstream from Arivaca, is now known as Honnas’ pond. It still has cottonwoods and they have shaded visitors for decades. The earliest known picture of Arivaca, a drawing done in 1854 by Charles Schuchard, shows the creek with its cottonwoods. (a copy is at the Library).

A palisade of cottonwoods stretches from Arivaca south along Ruby Road, along Yellow Jacket Wash as it comes into the Arivaca Creek. For many years this was a prime picnic area, but no longer—it’s too dangerous to sit under the cottonwoods. The oldest cottonwoods on this wash are now dying, dropping heavy limbs. In recent years, several have fallen over. One of them—the largest that was left — fell over last January, its roots hanging in the air. The heavy rains had saturated the ground and weakened its substructure. The road cracked from the stress of moving roots underneath. A photo taken in 1916 shows the Connecticut National Guard watering their horses at the creek just south of town. Probably that tree was in the photo but not identifiable. Another picture taken in 1914 showed a full grown tree just west of the road in that area. That particular tree burned down a few years ago. The old trees are going. But just west of the Ruby road, on Refuge land, a grove of cottonwoods germinated during the wet years of 1983-84. Upstream from the Cienaga, a number of cottonwoods have died in recent years, whether due to loss of subsurface water or just their age, it’s hard to know. Many of them are dying from age, as there appears to be plenty of water available. However, when you look downstream from Arivaca you can see a long line of younger cottonwoods, stretching for miles. This is comforting.

Another dead tree in a grove called Alamo Park, upstream of town, was struck by lightning this summer and smoldered for more than a week. This grove (on private land) is a large grouping of cottonwoods that also date back before 1900. There used to be an ephemeral pond under their feet, but it has dried up during the recent dry years. It needs rainy winters to refill.

Our cottonwoods are Fremont cottonwoods or Populus fremontii. The largest one of its kind was located near Patagonia and was 92 feet high, with a trunk circumference of 504 inches. I don’t know if this tree is still alive.

Cottonwoods are deciduous and germinate when the seeds fall (March-April) onto damp sandy soil and are covered with a light layer of silt and adequate moisture for root development. Apparently they need a late wet spring followed by a wet summer for germination. Historically this is not particularly common. They require a relatively high ground water table, so an ephemeral creek with springs is ideal. Fremont’s cottonwood exists all over the Southwest in riparian areas. Terraces may exist along these creeks at different levels above the current creek water level. These date to when there were flood events or other down cutting of the creek, so the highest ones would be the oldest. You can date the age of cottonwoods by which terrace they were laid down on, especially if you have good weather records, showing when heavy rains occurred. Eventually the creek may cut down so much that the trees are left high and dry. In some areas there is little down cutting, such as along Yellow Jacket Wash just south of town. Near the Eva Wilbur Cruce place is an area of severe down cutting.

Cottonwoods are subject to insect infestations. Ten years ago an irruption of long-horn beetles (Lochmaeocles marmorata) caused a dieback in their crowns, not just in Arivaca but also in the Santa Cruz valley. Although it looked bad at the time, most of them survived this and kept going. Tent caterpillars can also take up residence in the trees. Some have been seen this year. These are natural processes.

Cottonwoods are especially important as bird and wildlife habitat. Large birds like blue herons and hawks need large trees for their nests. A nearby tree houses screaming baby hawks every year, but you get accustomed to the sound. Unfortunately one of those tree’s branches fell this year, so perhaps mama hawk will decide to move. Heron nests were planted in the Alamo Park trees some years ago, and the herons took up residence.

Dan Cohan and Steve Cullinan of the U. S. Fish and Wildlife Service have done an informal survey of cottonwoods downstream from town, in the interest of maintaining the number of trees for the sake of wildlife and habitat. According to the Arivaca Creek Management Section, “Since the re-construction of Arivaca Lake Dam in 1970 there has never been an intentional release of water from Arivaca Lake… The creek is dependent upon periodic spring flooding for perpetuation of cottonwood trees. Without flooding at the appropriate time of year there will be no more regeneration of Fremont cottonwoods. At the current rate of loss, the refuge biologists estimate that the creek may become devoid of the majority of large old-growth dominant overstory cottonwoods within 20 years. ”

“The declining status of the creek was recently documented with field work which identified the presence of only 3 or 4 major age class groupings of cottonwood in creek (USFWS, unpub. data, 2010). Preliminary results of this field work indicate the age of these groupings to be approximately 27, 35 to 45, 80 to 120 and > 120 years old respectively with the 35 to 45 age group occurring in the greatest abundance. Each of these age class groupings correspond closely to major historic flood events and/or time periods in the past in which significantly greater than average annual precipitation levels had occurred (Steve Cullinan, pers. com.). The 27 year old age class is a result of a significant flood event which took place in 1983. Biologist observations and recent field work also indicate that virtually no cottonwood recruitment has taken place since this 1983 flood and areas once dominated by cottonwoods and willows are now being replaced with velvet ash, hackberry and other woody plant species. ” (from the Buenos Aires National Wildlife Refuge Habitat Management Plan)

Taking a look at the data, the year of record rainfall in this area was 1931, when 34 inches fell, which would correspond to the 80 year old trees.

Perhaps you want to plant a cottonwood in your yard. Easily propagated from cuttings, but not from seeds, cottonwoods take a lot of water because they can grow 30 feet in one year. In a large tree, the crown may extend up to a hundred feet, so be sure it is well away from your house.

Given enough time, maybe your cottonwood will see as much history as the one at the Sopori Ranch.

Most people remember C. B. and his bout with something like Alzheimers. He was in decline for several years and was kept going through the sheer force of Etta’s will and caretaking ability. However, up to that time he had had a very interesting life, albeit not now politically correct. May I point out that in those days trapping and hunting were perfectly acceptable occupations.

C. B. and Etta moved to Arivaca in the late 30s and took up residence on some mining claims a few miles north of town. Bob Marshall described their place as he first saw it in 1956: “The camp was small, located in a draw. There were two good wells on the property, which consisted of about twenty mining claims. Besides the mail house, there were three small guest cabins. The yard was a hodge-podge of Indian artifacts, mineral specimens, deer racks, javelina skulls, and other souvenirs of the country thereabouts. Several varieties of prickly-pear cactus grew about the yard. A huge bear trap, one of a kind in use a century ago to trap the big grizzly of the Rockies, hung from an iron pole in one corner of the yard. A number of Gambel’s quail were feeding about the place.

The Ruggleses asked me in and showed me about the little house. It was a veritable museum inside, as the yard was outside. More mineral specimens, hunting trophies, guns and tanned hides were everywhere. I took a seat while the Ruggleses showed me their scrapbooks.

They had spent three years together trapping in Alaska. (They met in Anchorage) They had written two articles on their adventures in the north for The Saturday Evening Post. There were also pictures Ruggles had taken of Indians in the Sierra Madre Occidental of Mexico. He was, I found, mentioned several times in the Report of the Game and Fish Warden for New Mexico, 1912, and was pictured with bear and mountain lions he had killed. He had once been an intimate friend of J. Frank Dobie (read Apache Gold and Yaqui Silver for a story about C. B.). The two of them had once traveled together in the Sierra Madre. He had not done any lion hunting for a number of years. They had been living in this place about sixteen years on their Social Security.

Little by little, as we looked through the old scrapbooks and talked, C.B. Ruggles’ colorful life took shape. Now eighty years old (in 1956), he had certainly lived adventurously. His very start in life was unusual. He was named C. B. having been born on the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy train while the train was some hours out of Quincy…

The son of a physician turned Indian agent and rancher, Ruggles had been reared on an Oregon ranch among Modoc Indians. In his earlier days, he had punched cows, mustanged, trapped for fur, and spent considerable time guiding hunting parties in the Rockies and Old Mexico. In the early 1900s Ruggles was chief guide for the Cliff Cities Pack Outfitters, a concern specializing in pack trips into the Four Corners country. For many years his headquarters was in Taos, New Mexico.
From professional hunting Ruggles turned to prospecting and mining, searching for the Lost Tayopa Mine in Mexico. Possessed of considerable medical knowledge picked up from his father, Ruggles was often in a position to administer medical aid to natives in the back country of Mexico. His status as El Doctor saved his life many times.” * When C. B. started to slow down they came to Arivaca to retire and do a little prospecting. And a little story telling.

C. B. was a great storyteller. Robert Marshall reprinted his tale of the shooting of an onza in his book on those elusive big cats. He was also a great one for lost mine stories. He’d sit outside the store and entertain anyone who came by.

Etta was just as adventurous as C. B. in her own way. Born in Sweden in 1897, she came to the U. S. when she was 17 years old with a group of Mormons and settled with them in Salt Lake City. Somehow she ended up in Alaska, where she was known to trap, hunt and drive a dog sled with the best of them. When she came to Arivaca with C. B. she helped build their cabins. Some would say that she probably built them all by herself. It was her “Big Rock Candy Mountain.” For years she was the den mother of Arivaca. She had no children of her own, but all the kids in town had wooden toys or doll furniture that she had made. She started a 4-H club and taught crafts in Emma Mae Townsend’s class at Arivaca school. Every year she made sure all the children had something to take to the Pima County Fair. You could see a fan quilt her kids made hanging in the Townsend museum. These kids also remember her little wire haired fox terriers, and especially her herd of goats and the experience of having to drink goat milk whenever you made a trip to her house. Etta organized activities and took care of everyone in town. One of the most exciting things she did was to get Santa Claus to make a trip to Arivaca! Besides that, she frequently worked at Hack’s store or for Stockwell’s Honey Company. Etta was nothing if not hard working, and always with enthusiasm and a big smile.

When C. B.’s health declined, they moved to Tucson. He died in 1962 and on his headstone is a miner and burro that he drew himself. Etta moved to Prescott. She passed away in 1969 and is buried next to C. B. in Tucson. I would hate for people to forget the folks behind the name on the road sign. Its easy for me to remember Etta: she’s in one of our old home movies, taken on my first birthday. And of course, she madethe cake.

*The Onza, by Robert E. Marshall, New York: Exposition Press, c1961.

Thanks to Hacklene Townsend Culling and Alice Allen for their remembrances of Etta.

Originally printed in the Connection in 1996

Mathias Oliver Davidson had come from New York, where he was born in 1819. In his youth he was known for having been the brother of Margaret and Lucretia Davidson, whose poetry was well known, but who had tragically died young. (Lucretia’s poetry has recently received attention from a literary critic in an article about her work in a 1997 article in the Yale Journal of Criticism.) M. Oliver received a good education in engineering, having been born into a prominent family. His father was a doctor and his mother a poet also. Davidson had been superintendent of the Cumberland coal works in Maryland and then Chief Engineer of the Havana Railroad in Cuba, where he learned Spanish. This would stand him in good stead in Arizona. Davidson was hired by the Arizona Mining Company of New York, who owned the Heintzelman Mine at that time, to reopen the mine and start production again. Not to be too dependent upon local laborers, he brought with him 30 men to serve as miners, engineers and artisans at the Cerro Colorado mine. Arriving at the mine, Davidson and his new crew pumped out the water and began to mine. In May 1865 a newspaper reporter visiting the Heintzelman mine described the scene he saw: “You ride into the plaza of the Cerro Colorado Hacienda and a scene of apparently chaotic confusion, bustle and work meets you. It was toward sundown there was the last of this long string of huge Sonora wagons unloading, herds being driven in by Pabago (sic) herders; little Mexican carts discharging corn into the granary; team animals tied to a picket rope being fed with nose-bags, making the air hideous with their noise as their food came down, the noise of hammers and iron in the blacksmith shop; the creaking of the mule power hoisting out of the old perpendicular shaft of the Heintzelman vein; busy men almost run against each other, lazy Mexicans loafed about, as it were in a sort of dream, not knowing what this all meant. We met Col. D and he promptly assigned a place for our escort to camp, took us to his room, all he has finished; it is a circular looped hotel tower at the corner of the great wall that is designed to enclose the whole Hacienda. A tame Apache boy, his body servant, soon brought us our dinner and after it, by the blazing fire we sat into the wee small hours, the triangle outside striking the hours, showing the guards were on post.

“Col. D is one of those agreeable men that have the faculty of, at evening, throwing off business entirely. The vexatious cares, the weighty responsibilities of managing this gigantic undertaking, do not stalk like grim ghosts into the fireside circle to mar its genial serenity…”

Putnam goes on to describe the facilities: The works …are all to be enclosed in one wall, to protect against external enemies, the danger of thieving and so arranged are the towers as to guard against a peon insurrection such as has occurred once before under the old management. A large reservoir has been made to hold the rains of the rainy season…The Heintzelman mine has, I suppose, produced the richest rock in Arizona and probably more dollars have been taken out of the old shaft than from any other mine. But the vein is very narrow, at times dividing into threads, and not always bearing mineral. All the experts, however, I believe, pronouncing it a true vein, so that it was very problematical whether enough rock to justify extensive reduction works could be got here in this single shaft.

“But Col. D’s plans to not rely at all on that shaft alone; it is his design to sink at short intervals on the whole extent of the vein (it has been traced over two miles) in fact to rely upon a hundred working shafts on this and other veins for the rock to keep his work employed…

“Among the things unique for Arizona that have arrived is a telegraphic apparatus to enable the officer here to communicate with the Enreguita Mining Co. ’s works, about seven miles away, which is likewise under Col D. ’s direction. I did not go there, but I understood the vein there is to be gold bearing quartz and in such quantities that the company feels justified in getting out a fifty stamp mill, which will make those works quite as extensive as these here…There are some hundred Americans employed here, beside the Mexicans and Indians, making a large settlement. ” (Putnam, for the Hartford Evening Press, Hartford, Conn.)

This telegraph line was the first in Arizona territory. It ran from the Cerro Colorado to the mine workings at the Enriquetta mine, going through Arivaca. It was finished by May of 1865, because it is mentioned in a report by John A. Clark, Surveyor General of Arizona. Virtually nothing remains of it.

At the same time as he was serving as the Superintendent at the mines at Arivaca, M.O. Davidson was also serving as the Agent for the Papago tribe. This involved making sure there were sufficient supplies for tribal needs, keeping order, and protecting them from exploitation, or as it was phrased, “to exercise a beneficial influence over these friendless people. ” It was a political plum that allowed the Agent a government salary ($1000/year) in a far territory when a steady income was hard to come by. If supplies became lost, as for example, when a ship was attacked in Guaymas harbor, it was Davidson’s job to try to recover the loss. In this case it was from the government of France, which had taken over power in Mexico, causing unrest and rebellion and resulting in the attack on the French ship by Governor Pesqueira of Sonora.

M. O. Davidson was still in Arizona in June of 1866, but not for long. By 1867 he was back in New York and serving as Chief Engineer of Streets, a post that he held until 1872. He reissued some of Lucrecia’s poetry in 1871, including some poetry of his own in the book. Davidson died in Fordham, NY in 1873 at the age of 54. He left a widow, Harriett Standish Davidson, with whom he had five children. Davidson Playground and Davidson Avenue in the Bronx are named after him.

After two months of covering old crimes in Arivaca, perhaps it is time to turn to the law.
One of the streets in Arivaca, over on the west side, is named Paul Street. Chances are, this is named after a well-known Sheriff of Pima County, Robert H. Paul. Or at least you would think that. However, the owner of an Arivaca homestead, just west of town on the Refuge property, was Robert J. Paul, the son of the Sheriff. So perhaps it would take some serious investigation to find out just which one the street is named for. Robert H. Paul, a native of Massachusetts, came to Arizona in 1877 as an employee of Wells Fargo, and decided to stay. Having had several years of experience as a sheriff in California, Paul decided to contend for the Pima County Sheriff position. It took some doing, as ballot box-stuffing was a common practice. After it was all over (a story worth reading) Paul had won, a position he held from 1881-1886. As Sheriff he was fearless and tenacious in his pursuit of the lawless, which included Doc Holliday and the Earps. At 6 foot 6” he was larger than life. In 1881 Cochise County split off from Pima County, relieving him of a large and difficult territory. In 1890 he became U. S. Marshall for the Territory, and held that post until 1893, after which he served as Justice of the Peace in Tucson. He passed away in 1901.
Around the turn of the 20th century, there being so much smuggling along the border and lawlessness in general, the Territorial Legislature decided to create a company of Rangers, along the same line as those in Texas. This took effect March 21, 1901. According to Joseph Miller, “Arizona towns scattered along the border were the daily scenes of murders and fierce personal encounters, and the smugglers and cattle rustlers were grown so bold as to ply their business openly…so well organized were these men that the few civil officers and scattered troops of the U. S. Cavalry were powerless against them. ”* The Arizona Rangers were chosen from (mostly) cowboys who knew the border range and were good shots. They were to patrol the territory, especially the border, catch those fleeing from the law and break up the smuggling rings. Burton Mossman was chosen to be the first captain. It was he who chose the first 14 Rangers. Later that number was increased but never to a large number. Mossman held his position for a year, and was replaced by Thomas Rynning. The only known local person who became an Arizona Ranger was Charles Eperson of Oro Blanco, a relative by marriage of Alonzo Noon. The Rangers’ duty was to uncover smuggling and other illegal operations, catch and transport the alleged criminals to the nearest law enforcement officer. At this they were very successful, and reports showed that several hundred errants were arrested each year. This was during the unsettled years before the Mexican Revolution when Emilio Kosterlitzky’s rurales patrolled the other side of the line. In 1905, Rynning reported: “The most cordial relations exist with the Mexican authorities who have at all times assisted and cooperated with us in the pursuit of criminals and the recovery of stolen property taken into Mexico. We have always followed fugitives into Mexico and the International line is no longer a protection for criminals from Arizona. ” Times have changed.
J. T. “Rye” Miles was Sheriff of Pima County from 1917-20. He had come to Arizona from Texas as a cowboy and joined the Arizona Rangers. After they shut down in 1909, he worked as a livestock inspector. (One of his relatives lived in Arivaca about that same time—J. T. Chambers worked at the Arivaca Ranch for several years.) Rye is mentioned (with a photo) in California Cowboys when he was working a big Arivaca roundup in his capacity as livestock inspector. Rye Miles was elected Sheriff of Pima County in 1916 and held the post until 1920. He passed away in Casa Grande where he served as Town Marshall and Constable.
The following references are available from the Library: *The Arizona Rangers, edited by Joseph Miller, California Cowboys by Dane Coolidge, Arizona Sheriffs: badges and bad men by Jane Eppinga, and Robert Havlin Paul: Frontier lawman: the Arizona years by Roy B. Young. Also visit the Arizona Rangers room in the 1904 Courthouse in Nogales.

A. C. (Alf) Lamb was also a miner who had come to Tombstone in 1888 and worked there for a time before moving to Tucson. He was employed by Wells Fargo as a driver, but maintained his interests in mining. In 1905 he was prospecting in the Old Oro Blanco and Tres Amigos area and had interests in several mines there. Apparently he also had enemies. On the night of April 2 he was blown up as he slept in his bed. The Arizona Daily Star reported: “Some persons having a grudge against Lamb, as is conjectured, on the night of April 2, placed a stick of giant powder, connected by a fuse far removed. The explosion that followed blew out the side of the cabin where Lamb slept. Lamb’s body was found to be terribly disfigured with part of his head being torn away.”

A. C. Lamb was known to have had some disagreements with Jasper Scrivner. In a memoir published in 1959, Jack Ganzhorn, nephew of Lamb, told of a story in which Lamb and Scrivner both claimed the same mine. In 1896 Lamb had allegedly inherited a mine called the Beehive from an old man named Silvernail. Scrivner claimed Silvernail owed him money and thought the mine should belong to him. In Tucson, one night in 1896, as Ganzhorn related, “three strange men were heard to say they were leaving on the morning Oro Blanco stage to run Alf Lamb off the property and take possession.” Only 15 at the time, Ganzhorn was enlisted to ride out ahead of the stage and warn Uncle Alf. He started out on horseback, early in the morning, carrying with him a quantity of extra ammunition for his uncle. Alf and Jack barricaded themselves in the mine tunnel with their dutch oven, supplies, blankets and a barrel of water. The men arrived the next day, carrying plenty of fire power. Not realizing that Alf had been warned, they were surprised when they found themselves facing a couple of rifle muzzles pointing out of the mine tunnel. They backed down quickly, but not before they had mentioned Scrivner’s interest in the mine. Jack always felt Scrivner had some connection with the murder. In addition, just before Lamb’s murder, he and Scrivner had allegedly quarreled, so when Lamb was found dead, the first person accused was Jasper Scrivner.

A couple of weeks after the murder, Scrivner was in Montana Camp (Ruby) when he was arrested by two Arizona Rangers, who shackled him and set a guard. Justice McClenahan, who was living in Old Oro Blanco and was acquainted with Scrivner, held a preliminary hearing and charged him with the crime. Other than the known bad blood, there was really no evidence to charge him with the crime, as the Star reported. “There are those who say that there is undeveloped evidence which points to other parties.” This did not surface, but neither did any evidence against Scrivner that was conclusive. Everything presented was circumstantial.

After a few months in jail in Nogales, Scrivner was cleared. But as the Oasis reported: “Scrivner did not enjoy his freedom long enough to take a stroll around town, however as Deputy Sheriff Cook was on hand with a warrant sworn out of the Justice Court of Oro Blanco, charging him with a misdemeanor. The charge was based on the accusation made by a woman of Oro Blanco that Scrivner had threatened her. This was in regard to other evidence provided in the former hearing. In a second indictment, he was charged with rape, the victim being her 14 year old daughter. Apparently he had argued with Lamb over the girl too. This information had come out in the hearing, complicating the whole affair. Scrivner’s attorney asked for a change of venue, but Justice McClenahan declined to grant the change, stating that “he was running his own court.”

After some more time in the Nogales jail and several lawyers later, Scrivner was again exonerated of any crime, a physician asserting that there was a physical condition rendering guilt impossible on such a charge. No other evidence had come to light.

Scrivner went back to mining and later ran a store in Old Oro Blanco. Years went by. Then, on the night of March 5, 1914, Scrivner was seated in his room, by an open window. He had closed his store for the night. The Citizen reported: “Benito Carrizoza heard shots at the store and ran to the Warsaw for help. On reaching the store, all was quiet. They went around the house to see what had happened and they saw Mr. Scrivner through the back window. He was lying on the floor and apparently had been murdered… Mr Scrivner had been sitting at a table reading a mining journal. They shot him twice through the window, the bullets entering the back of his head and neck. He just fell over sideways, but remained in the chair, his glasses and book falling on the floor. The house was ransacked for money and gold. They found some, but missed a pint beer bottle almost full of gold which he had hidden among some quilts… the robbers did not find it but after searching for it they tried to set fire to the house by pouring oil around and laid the lamp down and covered it over with quilts, but in their rush, they smothered the flame. Mr Scrivner always showed his gold to everyone that came in and no doubt that was the only motive for the crime as nothing else was disturbed. Mr. Scrivner was over and had Mr. Dillon melt some gold for him into a bar on the third of the month. That was gone. Mr. Dillon thinks about $400 was gone according to what Mr. Scrivner told him on Tuesday that had been there.” (Tucson Daily Citizen, March 10, 1914.)

The criminals were never found, but Scrivner’s wife believed that Mexican bandits were to blame, the border only being two miles away and similar murders having subsequently happened at Ruby. Scrivner left behind a wife and sons. A.C. Lamb left a wife and four children. Neither murder was solved.

Nowadays, topographic maps show a canyon named in Jasper Scrivner’s honor: it lies near Warsaw Canyon in the area where he used to mine. The only trouble is, they spelled it Scribner.

References: Arizona Daily Star, Tucson Citizen, Nogales Oasis newspapers. I’ve Killed Men: an epic of early Arizona by Jack Ganzhorn. Thanks to Al Ring for his help. Note: these murders happened near Old Oro Blanco, which is about two miles from the border, not the Oro Blanco on the Arivaca-Ruby road.

Correction: In the July article about Geronimo, I referred to Mrs. Peck’s niece as Jenny. However, her name was Trinidad, sometimes shortened to Trini.

This was not the first community quilt in Arivaca. In the 40s there was a 4-H Club whose quilt is still preserved. Later, some 20 years ago, back in the beginning of the Arivaca Arts Council, Lorraine Armour taught quilting classes. They met at what is now the Ceramics Shop and then moved to more space at the Old School. Lorraine led a group in the making of a quilt which hung in the Arivaca Community Center when it was first dedicated. The making of community was in itself part of the process. Another quilt was made to give to Kathy Sheldon in thanks for all her work with the Arivaca Arts Council. Another quilt was raffled off to benefit Lee Williams.

Katie Lusby loves to quilt by hand. She and her friend Marty, with help from Tillie Urias, did the thousands of stitches in the purple border on the Arivaca quilt. She got started at least 45 years ago and has done many quilts since then. Her most original design was a Disney quilt done for her daughter’s friend’s anniversary. A Katie-designed Winnie the Pooh quilt block hangs on the wall of Arivaca Library. Now she is working on an old quilt done by Ernie Grimm’s mother. It was put together but was never quilted onto a backing, which Katie is doing so Eva can donate it to the Arivaca Christian Center. She loves to quilt with her friends, like Tillie Urias, who became interested in quilting because of Katie. Some 20 years ago when the ceramic shop was the Arivaca Arts Council’s center, 15 women each made 15 blocks and traded them, so each of them could make their own community quilt. Tillie still has hers, which she put together with the help of Katie.

Janis Beckelman started quilting at least 30 years ago and took a class from Lorraine Armour. She participated in the quilt that went to Kathy but after that it was all by herself. She makes them for her own satisfaction and often with someone in mind. She has made many baby quilts. She loves playing with colors and describes her work as traditional patchwork with contemporary colors. She often pieces them by machine and then does the hand quilting. Janis’s quilts are well known in the community and many people can identify her style with no hesitation!

You know a serious quilter when they have an area dedicated to their craft. Comfort Cover’s handsome quilts are on virtually all of the beds in her home, which has been on the Home Tour several times. Each quilt is designed to complement the furniture and room design. The upstairs living room is an ocean of quilt materials, projects and displays. Many people have seen her quilts in previous Home Tours.

This year’s Home Tour, held on January 30, will feature a display of quilts done by Patty Goodsell. A resident of Arivaca for about five years, Patty began quilting at a very young age, to honor the memory of her grandmother. She is a traditionalist and makes the entire quilt by hand. Originally she made patchwork quilts until she retired and looked for something more challenging to do. She too, is very interested in color, especially different greens and how things are shaded. She uses color cards to match with the colors in nature, such as flowers. After thirty years or so of quilting, she challenged herself to begin making what have become award-winning quilts. often taking years to make. She keeps a journal for each one. Her most recent project is a Baltimore Album Quilt which she has worked on for four years. Each block in this kind of quilt is different and they were originally made in the 1840s-50s as gifts for public figures such as ship captains or pastors. Now there is a revival of this style to keep quilters on their toes.

Patty’s “Magical Medallions” quilt won the Best of Show and the Hall of Fame Award in the Tucson Quilters Guild Quilt Fiesta Show in 2008. You can see this, before the Home Tour, at the following website: www.arizonaquiltershalloffame.org.
Patty’s quilts will be shown in the newly renovated Old Schoolhouse.