Chapter XLI: The Battle on the Rio Grande

ASSASSINATION OF JUDGE STANLEY WELCH. CAPTAIN BILL ORDERED TO THE SCENE. AN AMBUSH; A SURPRISE AND AN INQUEST

Within three months from the night of the Brownsville raid, there occurred another tragedy in the banks of the Rio Grande. In the hours of earliest morning of Tuesday, November 6th--Election Day--while asleep in his office room at Rio Grande City, District Judge Stanley Welch, prominently connected with the Brownsville episode, was shot dead in his bed by some unknown assassin; this cowardly killing being doubtless the harvest of factional discord, widely sown and carefully tended in that hotbed of political corruption and violence along the Mexican border.

Rio Grande City lies up the river from Brownsville a distance of about one hundred miles. It is the county seat of Starr County, and has no railroad nearer than Sam Fordyce, the terminus of the St. L.B. & M., some twenty miles away. There are no railroads at all in Starr County--a big county, full of cactus, hard, spiny mesquite grass, Mexicans, and hot burning sand. Riot and plot would flourish naturally, in a place like that, as they do in all Latin-American territory.

Starr County, in fact, is rather more Mexican than Mexico herself, using the word to convey the less fortunate characteristics of that hybrid race. It is not the better class of citizens that leave Mexico, or Italy, or China, and the United States has suffered accordingly. The border counties of Texas, because of their situation have been peculiarly unfortunate in this regard. In Starr County the elective offices are held almost entirely by Mexicans, and the struggle for place is very fierce and bitter. Affairs generally are conducted by Mexicans, and even the schools are in Mexican hands. From a statement concerning the school trustees and teachers, in Starr County, it appears that out of twenty-four trustees only seven could speak and write the English language, and out of thirty-nine teachers nineteen of them had no knowledge whatever of our national tongue. Commenting on this report, D.C. Rankin of Dallas, in an article in the Corpus Christi Crony, says:

"The male teachers are political heelers for the party in power, and the lady teachers are backed by workers in the ring.... No wonder that law and order amount to nothing in that rotten section, and no wonder that District Judge, Stanley Welch, was assassinated while asleep in his bed. No wonder that when Rangers were sent there to preserve the peace and protect the citizenship from the ravages of the so-called Americanized Mexicans, that they were ambushed and fired upon by a lot of these desperadoes."

It is this story of crime and ambush that we shall undertake to tell in this chapter. When the assassination occurred, District Attorney Kleiber, who also may be remembered as having figured in the Brownsville story, was asleep in the room adjoining the one occupied by Judge Welch--the two inhabiting a small one-story brick building not far from the court-house. They had retired about the same time and Kleiber slept soundly until next morning at seven. Hearing no movement in Judge Welch's room, he called, but received no answer. Thinking the judge had overslept, Kleiber then rose, and opening the door between, called again. The judge did not stir, and going nearer the district attorney saw blood coming from his left side. Judge Welch was lying on that side; the window behind him was up--the shutter closed. He had been shot in the back, from without, through a broken slat in the blind. Attorney Kleiber recalled having been partially roused from his sleep by some sudden noise, and now supposed it to have been the fatal shot.

Mr. Kleiber at once notified the authorities, and by eight o'clock news of the murder was on the street. It was Election Day, as already stated, and excitement followed the report, with demoralization among the better element--the party to which Judge Welch belonged. It should be explained here that the two parties in that section are the "Reds" and the "Blues"--nominally Democrats and Republicans, though the distinction would seem one of patronage rather than of politics. In Rio Grande City the party of Judge Welch, called the Reds (Democrats)--is in the minority.

On this Tuesday, November 6th, 1906, its franchise was even more restricted than usual. When the fact of the murder became known about fifty mounted men, "Blues," went through the crowds, demanding that the polls be instantly opened. Local officers were either unwilling or unable to deal with this mob, and open warfare between the Blues and the Reds was imminent. To avoid bloodshed, Chairman Seabury of the Reds assembled the best men among the leaders of the Blues and persuaded them to agree with him that no armed men should approach the court-house, where the voting place had been established; also that one man of each party should be appointed as special peace officer at the polls, and that a Blue and a Red should vote alternately as long as there existed material for such an arrangement.

The agreement was kept two hours, after which the Blues took possession of the court-house; entered the door, and held the same, backed by armed men on foot and on horseback, terrorizing and keeping out most of the opposition voters. When the polls closed at 6:30 p.m., about one hundred and twenty-five electors had not cast their votes.[19] There had been plenty of intimidation and some personal violence, but no loss of life. The elements for riot and bloodshed, however, were all there, and it needed only a little brisk stirring to precipitate a general killing.

Meantime, news of the murder of Judge Welch, with a report of the general situation at Rio Grande City, and a request for Rangers, had traveled overland to Sam Fordyce and by telegraph to Austin, not arriving in time for action that day. Captain McDonald's territory included Starr County--his headquarters having been removed to Alice in 1903,[20] and on Wednesday morning of November 7th, 1906, he was called by telephone from the governor's office at Austin. Governor Lanham himself was at the Austin end and conveyed the news of the assassination, which McDonald had just learned from another source.

"How many men have you at Alice?" inquired the governor.

"Two, including myself. My sergeant, W.J. McCauley, is here. One of my men is on a scout below Corpus Christi, and the other (his force had by this time been reduced to three) is guarding two murderers at Edna."

"Captain," was the governor's next question, "would the fact that you have not been favorably disposed toward Judge Welch since the Brownsville affair make any difference in your undertaking this matter, now?"

"If you think so, Governor, you ought to get another Ranger Captain for this company; a Ranger that would let a thing like that make any difference in a case of this kind would be no good for any purpose that I know of."

"Well, then, Captain, take whatever force you have, and proceed as soon as possible to Rio Grande City, and I will send additional men there, as quickly as possible. I will wire the authorities that you are on the way with one Ranger and that more will follow at once."

"All right, Governor, I'll start first train, and do the best I can."

"And Captain" (The governor had suddenly remembered Brownsville).

"Yes, sir."

"Be conservative, Captain. Investigate, and try to quiet matters, but be conservative, quite conservative, Captain."

"Yes, sir, Governor, all right. I'll be conservative--as conservative as the circumstances will permit."

"Now, do that, Captain. Just quiet matters, and I'll send you reinforcements at once. Only be as conservative as possible till they come."

Captain Bill wasted no time in his preparation. The train would leave in half and hour, and he didn't stop to pack a dress suit. He notified McCauley, and gathered up a young fellow named Marsden, who had Ranger ambitions, and started with such clothes and guns as he had on.

It is a slow, roundabout way from Alice to Rio Grande City. You have to go from Alice over to Corpus Christi and there wait for a train that takes you down to Harlingen. Then at Harlingen you must wait for another train to take you to Sam Fordyce, and at Sam Fordyce you can hire a hack that will carry you to Rio Grande City, unless you are waylaid and murdered along that lonely road which follows the river and winds between a thick growth of cactus, mesquite and all the thorny rank vegetation of that sandy semi-tropical land. Starting from Alice in the forenoon, one with good luck may reach Rio Grande City by ten o'clock at night, though it will be safer to wait at Sam Fordyce until next morning. Those who travel from Sam Fordyce to Rio Grande City after nightfall, go armed, and need to.

Captain Bill had good luck on the way down. While waiting for the Harlingen train at Corpus Christi he fell in with Sam McKenzie, his ranger, who had been on a scout in that section, and at Harlingen he found Blaze Delling, who had resigned from Company B to become U.S. River Guard. He brought both men along, and with a force like that he felt able to cope with a mob of whatever size or nationality. Of course, nothing was known at Rio Grande City of the increase in the Ranger army. It had been given out there that Captain McDonald and one man had been ordered down, and that reinforcements would follow, accordingly as Governor Lanham had wired.

The day was well along when the little army finally reached Sam Fordyce and secured a conveyance for the final stage of their journey. An old frontiersman by the name of Inman, who owned a hack and pair of small mules, agreed to undertake the journey. It was late in the afternoon when they started.

Night fell, clear and starlight, but there was no moon, and the narrow winding southern road hedged thickly with mesquite and yucca and cactus growth was dark enough, except here and there where it opened to the river or to a hacienda (Mexican ranch), with its half dozen thatched huts, or hackles, surrounded by brush fences.

The Rangers drove along quietly, speaking in low voices when they spoke at all, peering into the darkness ahead, for they had no knowledge of what conditions were awaiting them, or what they were likely to meet along the way. Besides, it is the Ranger practice to go warily on dark nights and not traverse an unknown road with festivity and boisterous mirth.

It was about 8:30 o'clock and they had covered a little more than half the distance to Rio Grande City, when they heard the noise of approaching wheels and vaguely distinguished the outlines of some vehicle in the darkness ahead. They were at the time about opposite Casita Ranch--a poor place with the usual brush fences. Mr. Inman slackened down his mules and pulled the Ranger hack a little to one side of the road, supposing it to be only one of the traveling coaches that make daily trips between Rio Grande City and the railway terminus. But when the approaching vehicle was about thirty paces away, there was a sudden flash in the dark, a report, and a bullet went singing over the heads of the Rangers.

The Rangers were instantly in battle front, guns up and ready. They did not fire at once, however, for there might be some mistake.

"Hold up there!" called McDonald. "We are Texas Rangers! Stop that shooting!" and this admonition Private McKenzie quickly repeated in the Mexican tongue.

"As pretty a fight as ever took place on the banks of the Rio Grande."]

There was no chance for mistake, after that. The hacks had been moving right along and were now not more than twelve feet apart. Then the approaching hack stopped and three figures with guns were seen to leap to the ground. Captain Bill, who was standing up in the hack with his Winchester leveled on them, thought at first that they were getting out to surrender their arms, and three of his Rangers, McCauley, McKenzie and Delling quickly jumped down, facing them. But at that instant the epithets "Cavarones!" and "Gringoes!" came from the Mexicans, and then "Tetterly! Tetterly!" (Shoot! Shoot!) with which signal the Mexicans, both on the ground and in the hack, let go at the Rangers, point blank, while from behind the brush fence two guns in ambush opened an enfilading fire.

Then for the thirty seconds or so that it lasted, there was as pretty a fight as ever took place on the banks of the Rio Grande. With seven Mexican and five Ranger rapid-fire guns going--a round dozen in all--there was one continuous explosion, and an unceasing glare.

"From where I stood in the hack, I could see the whites of their eyes," Captain Bill said afterward, "and I felt as if I could pick the buttons off their coats. I let go as fast as I knew how, and at a different Mexican every time."

But though rapid, the Ranger fire was cool and accurate, while the Mexican marksmanship was inexcusably bad.

In less than half a minute it was all over. The seven Mexican guns were silenced, the Mexican force demolished. In the road, a man lay across his gun, dead. Two were limping and staggering away--one with a broken leg, the other to die; two more--the ambushers--were hiding in the weeds (where they were presently captured), while in the Mexican hack, which was now once more moving slowly along, was a freight of yet two more, both dead.

Sergeant McCauley, from his position on the ground, looked up to where Captain McDonald, still standing in the hack, was already reloading.

"Pretty little fight, Uncle Bill," he said, casual like.

"Yes," said Captain Bill, thoughtfully filling the magazine of his Winchester, "but do you reckon the governor will think we've been conservative enough?"

When the dead and wounded and prisoners were gathered and a general observation of the field was taken, it was found, from the empty shells, that each side had fired about an equal number of shots--some sixty, in all.

Marvelous as it may seem, not a Ranger was touched by any of the thirty or more shots fired at them, though Mr. Inman, the driver, got a pretty hot bullet through the very narrow space just under his arm a bullet that cut his undershirt and scorched his skin, and made him think for the moment that he was wounded. Old veteran that he was, he sat quietly holding his team--a silent observer of the spectacle--only regretting that, being unarmed, he could not have a more active part.

Captain Bill now took Delling and started for Rio Grande City, leaving the remainder of his force in charge of the dead, wounded and prisoners. They kept a sharp lookout for new attacking parties as they drove along, and discussed the recent battle in voices that were jubilant, but modulated.

"Of course, from the governor's telegram, they only expected to meet two men," Captain Bill reflected. "It must have been a sunrise when they suddenly found five guns going." And a little later, speaking out of what seemed a troubled conscience, "But I'm afraid the Governor won't think I was conservative."

Then presently they met two more vehicles coming, this time in a hurry. Ready for action, the Rangers waited until they were up close, then stopped them. They, also, had come to meet the Rangers, but this time with a note from the county judge, telling them to hurry, as the town was up in arms, and an outbreak was momentarily expected.

Captain McDonald sent one of the hacks after his men and their prisoners, with orders to get Mexicans from the Casita Ranch to watch the dead men until the inquest, next day. Then with the other hack he pushed on to Rio Grande City. From the tone of the judge's note he expected to find matters in a desperate condition. When he arrived, however, there seemed to be no special excitement. Everybody was armed and there were groups on the street, but there was little noise or open disturbance. The Ranger Captain looked up the judge and sheriff and made a report of his battle and its results, the news of which was soon both general and effective. When he went out among the crowds and told them to disarm--to go home and put their guns away and quit their foolishness--it was like the dismissal of a State encampment. By the time his men arrived everything was peaceable. It was too late that night to make a report to the governor, but Captain Bill summed up the situation in a telegram next morning. Governor Lanham had protested at the length and cost of a telegraphic report from Brownsville; this time there was no waste of words.

"Rio Grande City, Nov. 8, 1906.

"Gov. S.W.T. Lanham, "Austin, Texas.

"We were ambushed; four Mexicans dead, one wounded, two captured; preparing to hold inquest. Everybody disarmed; everything quiet.

"W.J. MCDONALD, "Capt. Co. B, "Ranger Force."

That told the story, adequately, cheaply and modestly. The papers over the State made a good deal to-do over it, and reviewed Captain Bill's other exploits--real and imaginary--but to him it was only in the day's work, the work he had been carrying on for a long time, now, nearly a quarter of a century.[21]

The inquest was held that morning according to program, and the verdict justified the Rangers. After which, the four unlucky Ranger-hunters were buried in a lonely old graveyard near the place where they fell. The names of the four were, Farias, Osuna, Vincia and Perez--all known in Rio Grande City. Their comrade who was wounded, another Osuna, confirmed the Rangers' account of the battle. The original plan had been for all to lie in ambush behind the fence and fire on the Rangers deliberately, at close range. Losing patience, however, in an attempt to clamber over the thick barrier, all but two decided to remain in the hack.

The better element of Rio Grande City, though rejoicing over the results of the ambush, were naturally apprehensive as to what might happen next. Friends of the dead men were numerous, and it was believed that a bloody outbreak with reprisals would follow. Captain McDonald assured the citizens that he had no such fears, and the arrival of State troops and Ranger Company D, Captain Hughes, helped to restore confidence.

Captain Bill did not remain long in Rio Grande City. He was still engaged in solving the Conditt problem at Edna and could not undertake to unravel the mystery of Judge Welch's assassination. It remains unraveled to this day. Perhaps time will furnish a clue. Perhaps the secret lies buried in the old graveyard back of the Casita Ranch.

Nothing was ever done with the prisoners taken by the Rangers. That is, nothing was done with the two men caught in ambush. The wounded man was afterward made deputy sheriff, probably as a reward of merit for having engaged in a shooting match with the Rangers and escaped alive.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 19: For further details of the condition at Rio Grande City at this time, see Appendix E.]

[Footnote 20: Company B had been transferred from Amarillo to Fort Hancock in 1902 for a comparatively brief period.]

[Footnote 21: "The Fort Worth Record," commenting on this report, compared it to Perry's famous "We have met the enemy and they are ours." The Record adds: "Perry and McDonald are made of the same stuff. If McDonald had been in Perry's place he would have been equal to the emergency. If Perry had been in McDonald's place he couldn't have done better."]