Officers Down: The 1897 Murders of Colorado Deputies William Green and William Kelly in New Mexico

c 2021 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article originally appeared in New Legends Magazine.

On July 30, 1897, Colorado’s Fort Morgan Times published information regarding a long-posed question: whatever happened to Las Animas County deputies William Green and William Kelly? Over a year before, the men had departed Trinidad in search of some cattle thieves, only to disappear without a trace. Authorities, locals and even Green’s own brothers had worked diligently trying to find out what became of the men. At last there was an answer, solving what the papers called “the greatest murder mystery in the history of this part of the country.”

The story began back in April of 1896, when local cattlemen had started filing complaints after “suffering heavy losses” around the San Isidro mountains in New Mexico, southeast of Trinidad. The suspects were comprised of a gang led by one Miguel Reville, who remained on the lam. Deputy Green, “known to possess plenty of nerve, and who had the record of placing under arrest more desperate criminals than any other man in the territory”, secured a warrant and set out for Reville along with Deputy Kelly, “also a man of nerve.” The men departed Trinidad on April 20 and were due back by the 26^th. They were last spotted at a place known as Barela Station, but were never seen again.

Authorities puzzled over the disappearance of the deputies. Meanwhile, Ely and John Green, brothers of the missing deputy, determined to find the men. The pair even relocated from the family home in Las Vegas, New Mexico to Trinidad and set up a business, using their profits to search for the deputies. Throughout the summer and into the winter, the men, along with other law officers, searched high and low for the missing men, as well as Reville. It was well known that the gang leader and his cronies disliked Green intensely; back in 1895, he had caught gang members Leandro Martinez and Pedro Baca after they murdered one Charles Allen at Starkville near Trinidad. Those two killers were serving forty-year sentences at the State Pen in Canon City.

The Green brothers and the Las Animas County sheriff’s department kept up their search, following only a few scant clues. When a report was received that two bodies were found in the San Isidro area, the party conducted a search but found nothing. The men also kept a close eye on Reville’s gang. At last, in July of 1897, the Green brothers received information from someone in Raton, just over the New Mexico border from Trinidad, that one of the gang members, Macedonio Archuleta, had lots of information about Deputies Green and Kelly—including the fact that they had been murdered.

Very quickly and very quietly, the Sheriff’s office arrested Archuleta. The arrest was kept a secret, until the outlaw finally gave the officers a full confession. According to the prisoner, four men—Nestor Martinez, Moses Frayter, Juan Duran and Reville—had been instructed by the gang leader to ambush the deputies. Green and Kelly had apparently found a small settlement where the gang hung out. After killing the officers, the men buried the bodies for three days before digging them back up and burning them. Only a few charred bones were recovered from the site. What became of the men’s horses, saddles, fire arms and badges remains a mystery to this day.

With Archuleta in jail, sheriff’s officers were able to wrangle the rest of Reville’s gang. Taken into custody were Martinez, Frayter and Duran, as well as Dave Hodges, Rupeito Archuleta, Juan Pacheco and two women, Lucia Duran and Lucia Archuleta. The ladies were especially helpful, later testifying about statements the men had made after the killings. Additional names were provided and more men were arrested. Authorities were hopeful of finding Reville as well, until Macedonio Archuleta revealed that the leader had been killed by other gang members, three days before Deputies Green and Kelly had even gone looking for him.

Still, Reville’s eventual demise remained confusing. Archuleta said the killing was done by other gang members. The Fort Morgan Times stated that Reville was killed by a Mexican neighbor “for undue intimacy with his wife.” Another report stated Reville was killed in November of 1896 by a Texas Ranger near Childress, Texas. In the end, it didn’t matter much how Reville died, but it meant everything to the Green brothers and everyone else that he was indeed dead.

Of everyone arrested in connection with the death of Green and Kelly, five of them were convicted and sentenced to death. The prisoners were sent to the State Penitentiary, where their sentences were later commuted to life imprisonment. In the end, Rupeito Archuleta and Juan Pacheco died in prison in 1899 and 1901. Nestor Martinez was inexplicably pardoned in 1899. The last two prisoners, Juan Duran and Moses Frayter, were paroled between 1911 and 1913.

Today, the memories of Deputies William Green and William Kelly are preserved on the Colorado State Patrol’s “Colorado Fallen Heroes Biographies”, a record of every officer killed in the line of duty since 1860. Their stories can be accessed at the State Patrol’s page at https://www.colorado.gov/pacific/csp/colorado-fallen-heroes-biographies.

Image: The unforgiving San Isidro mountains in northeast New Mexico. Courtesy TripAdvisor.

Good Time Girls of Arizona & New Mexico: A Red Light History of the Southwest

c 2019 by Jan MacKell Collins

As part of the new Good Time Girls series in historical prostitution, I am please once again to announce that my new book, Good Time Girls of Arizona and New Mexico has arrived!

It is no secret that I absolutely love writing about shady ladies of the past. Their bravery, dilligence and determination to survive make many of them heroes in my book. Here we have women bearing raw and untamed lands, oppressive heat, little water and a host of unknowns to settle in the southwest during a time when most “respectful” women dared not cross the overland trails. Oppressive too was the society in which these ladies lives, overcoming public shaming and shunning to make their way in a man’s world. Their stories naturally range from tragic to triumphant; all of them should be remembered as human beings, sisters, wives, daughters and mothers.

Expanding on the research I did for Red Light Women of the Rocky Mountains (University of New Mexico Press, 2009 – out of print) and Wild Women of Prescott, Arizona (The History Press, 2015), this tome is a closer look at some of the ladies I wanted to know more about. Included here are chapters on Jennie Bauters, Big Bertha (of Williams, AZ), Sarah Bowman, Lizzie McGrath, Sadie Orchard, May Prescott, Jennie Scott, Silver City Millie and Dona Tules—all madams who were astute businesswomen and wielded much power and profit during their time. Also included are lesser known women such as the Sammie Dean of Jerome, AZ and the fierce Bronco Sue Yonkers. I visited ladies of the camp, wanton women on the Santa Fe Trail, and plenty of other women who dared to work in the prostitution industry and defied the laws, societies and men who tried to suppress them.

For those of you wishing to order the book, you can do so at this link: https://rowman.com/ISBN/9781493038114/Good-Time-Girls-of-Arizona-and-New-Mexico-A-Red-Light-History-of-the-American-Southwest

 

Soiled Doves of the Santa Fe Trail: Colorado and New Mexico

c 2017 by Jan MacKell Collins

Portions of this article first appeared in New Legends Magazine.

Trinidad, Colorado is Santa Fe Trail country where, beginning in 1821, the “Mountain Branch” spanned from today’s Pueblo and south through Trinidad, Raton and on to Santa Fe. While the majority of women who traveled the trail were wives and daughters, it wasn’t long before ladies of the night also joined the caravans heading west.

When Fort Pueblo was established in 1853, several red light districts appeared over time as the city grew. One was by the Arkansas River near today’s central Pueblo. Another was near Santa Fe Avenue and today’s 1st Street. Some of the more notorious bordellos in Pueblo included the Stranger’s Home and the Hotel de Omaha, where fights, murders and suicides occurred with alarming frequency.

The Denver & Rio Grande Railroad began laying rails south of Pueblo in the late 1800’s. The tracks first passed through El Moro, a “company town” located four miles from Trinidad. Such places normally forbid prostitution, but in El Moro, George Close successfully ran a dance hall just around the corner from the New State Hotel with its fancy saloon.

South of Trinidad, the railroad continued over the New Mexico border to Raton. By the 1880’s a red light district was flourishing along Garcia Street, just across the tracks from the business district on First Street. Early soiled doves of Raton included a woman called La Josie, who they say could dance up a storm despite having a peg leg.

When the business district relocated to Second Street, Josie and her cohorts immediately filled the empty buildings along First. In time, Raton’s bawdy houses spanned a two block area near the depot and downtown. In 1888, a devastating fire burned much of the red light district and the business district after a disgruntled working girl threw a lamp at one of her customers.

Further south of Raton was Fort Union, near the Cimarron cutoff of the Santa Fe Trail. Soon after the fort was established in 1851, a group of shady ladies set up shop in some nearby caves. A Captain Sykes discovered their presence when he found that stolen goods from the fort were being used to pay them. Sykes ended the sinful business by capturing the women, shaving their heads, and commanding them to move on.

The ladies did move on—to Loma Parda, a small farming community six miles away. There soldiers could gamble, drink, dance, and carouse with women. Julian Baca’s dance hall featured live music twenty four hours a day. The town’s signature whiskey, “Loma Lightening” was often the cause of thefts, fights and murders.

In contrast to these woolly and wild places along the trail, Trinidad offered more refined places of vice. In its early days, Trinidad was as raucous as anywhere else, marked by the 1874 murder of a call girl named Moll Howard. Her killer claimed the woman attacked him with a butcher knife, and owed him a dollar besides. Moll’s friends heard about the murder, formed an angry mob, and hanged the man by the Purgatoire River.

Within a decade, however, Trinidad’s brothels and parlor houses were neatly situated behind Commercial Street on Mill and Plum Streets, but also near Main Street. The fancier houses sported dance floors, and the Grand, at Santa Fe and Main, even had a swimming pool and Turkish baths. “Bar girls” also offered sex above the saloons, and certain restaurants provided curtained booths, where waitresses could offer more than what was on the menu.

Such places received plenty of business from men living in outlying company towns like Berwind, Ludlow, Morley, and Jensen. On slow nights, some brothels resorted to calling the fire department with some made up “emergency”. The firemen would duly show up to “rescue” girls from the second floors via ladders on which the women descended—wearing no underclothes!

When an ornate building on Main was constructed in 1888, the architect’s plans allegedly included the bust of a local madam on the front facade. Who she was remains unknown, but the best known madam was Mae Phelps. In 1900, Mae employed ten lovely ladies from her brothel at 228 Santa Fe Avenue. Mae defied public officials; once during a court appearance, attorney Jamie McKeough demanded whether Mae “operated a public place on the Santa Fe Trail.” Mae replied, “You ought to know, you’ve been there often enough.”

But Mae also worked with the city, establishing a “Madams’ Association” to construct a special trolley system leading to the red light district. The system was built by a written agreement with the city. Mae also established a “Madams’ Rest Home” outside of town where ill or injured girls could recuperate in peace.

Mae and Trinidad’s red light ladies are long gone, but many of their historic bordellos remain in the downtown area, if you know where to look.

Pictured: The Palace in Raton, New Mexico where shady ladies once took center stage. Photo by Jan MacKell Collins.