Arizona And The Civil War

The settlers of Arizona were a long way from the scenes in which the early events of the American Civil War broke out. News did not travel very rapidly over the southern routes to California, which had no Pony Express or telegraph lines in 1861. The rapid secessions of the Confederate States had scarcely been heard of in the Gila Valley when word came of the firing of the first guns at Fort Sumter in April of that year, and several battles had been fought in the East before the war was really felt in Arizona in July. The southern route of the Butterfield stage lines was made useless in February of 1861, by disorders in Texas as the state militia took over United States military property there and the Federal troops withdrew. Early in March the United States Congress shifted the contracts for overland mail carrying, to be run through Colorado, Utah and Nevada exclusively, and Arizona was for a time cut off from any knowledge of what was happening "back East."

The Apaches, watching cautiously from their mountain strongholds, realized that the white men were in trouble; and it was not long before Apache leaders came to believe that they were the cause of the white man's retreat. When that point was reached, Arizona was about to see the beginning of a twenty-five-year conflict with Indians.

It was the departure of the United States troops from their Arizona garrisons, however, which really most affected the settlements depending upon them for the enforcement of law and order. By orders from the military headquarters in New Mexico, these garrisons were to withdraw from the forts and gather at Fort Fillmore, near Mesilla on the Rio The troops left Fort Buchanan on July 23, 1861, on their march to Fort Fillmore. Before the some four hundred Union soldiers reached Fort Fillmore, the Union commander there, Major Isaac Lynde, had already surrendered to LieutenantColonel John R. Baylor, whose Texan Confederate army had come up from El Paso. The Arizona Unionist soldiers therefore moved on up the Rio Grande to Fort Craig, to join the one remaining loyal Union commander in New Mexico, Colonel Edward R. S. Canby. The latter found himself in charge of some twelve hundred unpaid and half-equipped men there.

Grande. As they left Forts Buchanan and Breckenridge, the soldiers destroyed what military property they could not take with them, to prevent it from falling into the hands of the Confederates or any one else. Many of the buildings at the forts were also destroyed either then or by the Confederates later.

Adding to the confusion among the Union garrisons in New Mexico as well as Arizona, was the decision of so many of their officers to resign from the Union army and enter the Confederate service. It was a practice which, it is sometimes said, did little good to either side in the Civil War, for it left the Union armies without enough officers and gave the Confederates too many of them.

The departure of the Unionist troops from Arizona aroused much resentment among the settlers in and around Tucson, although it is generally agreed today that the great majority of the settlers were strongly in sympathy with the southern cause. The sixty-eight American voters in Tucson

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In the summer of 1861 assembled in a mass meeting to approve Arizona's being added to the Confederacy when it should be possible to do so. Perhaps such an attitude did not make the Union soldiery feel too bad about leaving the Santa Cruz and San Pedro valleys.

Whatever the feelings on both sides may have been, there was soon no question about the results of the Unionist retreat from Arizona. The Apache moved down from his hills to take possession wherever possible. Many of the wealthier settlers packed up and fled into Sonora, or westward to Fort Yuma, where the Union garrison stood firm.

Up from Sonora came a rush of bordermen, bandits and adventurers, to dispute with the Indians over the possession of the loot. Tubac, abandoned by its small garrison on August 3, 1861, was left to defend itself against the first combined attack from these marauders. Wrote a later traveler: "the Apaches besieged the town on one side, while the Sonoranians lurked in the bushes on the other. Twenty men held it for three days, and finally escaped under cover of night. There was nothing left."

At almost the same time as the Tucson secessionist convention was getting under way after the departure of the Union troops, there was issued at Mesilla on August 1, 1861, a proclamation by Lieutenant-Colonel John R. Baylor, commander of the Confederate army then taking possession of New Mexico. Because Baylor had not as yet conquered northern New Mexico, his proclamation merely set up the Territory of Arizona, which was to consist of all of New Mexico Territory south of the thirty-fourth parallel. It said that all the offices in this territory created by the United States were now vacant; that all laws which did not contradict those of the Confederacy should continue to be enforced; that Mesilla should be the capital of the new territory; and that he would himself assume the office of military governor. He also appointed a number of territorial officials, in the name of the Confederate States of America, and set up judicial districts.

His proclamation and appointments were confirmed when his superior officer, General Henry H. Sibley arrived to take full command of the Confederate army in December of 1861. By a proclamation of December 20, Sibley invited all the Unionist soldiers and officers still in New Mexico, to "drop at once the arms which degrade you into the tools of tyrants, renounce their service, and array yourselves under the colors of justice and freedom. I am empowered to receive you into the service of the Confederate States, the officers upon their commissions, the men upon their enlistments." In another proclamation he declared that he expected "a sincere and hearty cooperation and firm support from the inhabitants" of the new territory.

Meanwhile, there were certain political results of all this concern about Arizona. On February 14, 1862, President Jefferson Davis of the Confederate States of America proclaimed the establishment of the Confederate Territory of Arizona, confirming the action of Baylor. Such a proclamation was quite in agreement with the ideas of the Texans, one of whom (M. H. McWille, Baylor's appointee as attorney-general of the proposed territory), had already written: "The stores, etc., in N. Mex. and Ariz. are immense, and I am decidedly of the opinion that the game is worth the ammunition. The exped. would relieve Texas, open communication to the Pacific, and break the line of operations designed to circumvallate the south."

But in the following month of March 1862, there came a move from the other side of the Civil War, as the Arizona territorial bill was reintroduced into Congress in Washington.

It was a closer approach to the boundaries of the later State of Arizona, although it would take nearly a year to complete the work of passing it through Congress.

In the final analysis, such a wealth of provisions (on paper), for the future of Arizona had to be disentangled and made good by force of arms in a time of civil war. This process, of fighting the problem out to a decision, was already in full career. Sibley's march up the Rio Grande Valley was part of it. Another part of the process was taking place at the same time, in the direction of Arizona itself. On or about February 27, 1862, soon after the battle of Valverde, some two hundred mounted Texans under the command of Captain Sherod Hunter entered old Tucson, having marched westward from Mesilla. There was no sign of opposition to this Confederate seizure of the chief town of Arizona. If there were any Union sympathizers present, they must have kept tactfully silent or else slipped across the border into Sonora as quickly as possible.

Although one writer who visited the region two years later described these Texans as "roving bandits, ragged, undisciplined," and Tucson as "a secession stronghold, composed almost entirely of Southern outlaws," Hunter and his men do not seem to have created any great excitement or to have done any serious damage to the people of the Santa Cruz valley; so that perhaps the writer was unduly prejudiced. The Confederates seem to have been mainly preoccupied with the problem of getting food, possibly because they did not know of any Union troops dangerously near.

They are said to have confiscated a few northern-owned mines, but probably did not have time to operate them profitably. They served to guard the region against Apaches for a time, and perhaps planned an attack on Fort Yuma. At least a party of them was sent down the Gila to the Pima villages, where they seized a large supply of flour which was being collected there for the Union army. Probably it was from the Pimas that the Confederates first heard rumors that danger threatened their little detachment from the west.

The danger consisted of a body of Unionist volunteer troops whose advance eastward was to make much history for Arizona. They were the so-called California Volunteers or California Column, eighteen hundred strong, composed of partly-organized California Unionist regiments; and they were commanded by a "down East" Yankee from Maine, Colonel (later General), James Henry Carleton, a restless, energetic officer with something of a flair for politics.

On his staff were a number of men whose names or careers are remembered in Arizona, such as John C. Cremony, Edward E. Eyre, Joseph R. West, George W. Bowie (for whom the town and old fort of Bowie are named), and Thomas L. Roberts. The Column was being gathered at Yuma during March and April of 1862; but Lieutenant Colonel Joseph R. West, who commanded the advance guard, was at Yuma as early as November of 1861, to protect the ferry there and prevent any Confederate efforts to communicate with southern sympathizers in California. Scouting and foraging parties sent out by West had reached the Pimas before the Confederates had visited them, and placed orders for food supplies among those Indians. A dispatch-bearer sent to Tucson in February was captured by Carefully drawn maps are features of “Arizona-The History of a Frontier State.” Maps dramatize historic events in the story.

Hunter's men, and on being released came back with the news that the Confederates held that town. Then a small party of cavalry under Captain William McCleave, which had gone out in search of the messenger, was met by the Confederates at the Pima villages, and part of its members captured by them on April 6.

Up the Gila from Yuma then came Captain William P. Calloway, with a larger party of Union cavalry to rescue the captured men. At the Pima villages Calloway heard that a party of Confederate soldiers under Lieutenant Jack Swilling was near by, and sent Lieutenant James Barrett with a dozen Union soldiers to attack and capture them.

Swilling and his men retreated, pursued by Barrett's party, until the two groups met in Picacho Pass. Barrett and two of his men were killed here; and the Confederate loss was two killed and three captured. This was the only Civil War skirmish occurring in Arizona, and it is sometimes called the westernmost battle of the Civil War, fought on April 15, 1862. Although in its casualties it might be called a Confederate triumph, in its strategic result, it amounted to a Union victory, for Captain Hunter immediately decided upon a retreat toward the Rio Grande.

More than a month later, while Hunter's men were retiring eastward through Arizona, Colonel West's advance guard of the California Column entered Tucson, on May 20. A symptom of what awaited the Union men had already been experienced by Hunter's little army, for it was attacked by the Apache and lost several men and a good deal of its equipment. Colonel West sent parties of soldiers to establish a military post, known as Fort Barrett, at the Pima villages, and to reoccupy for a time the old Forts Buchanan and Breckenridge. According to one story, West's soldiers were too deeply interested in Tucson's senoritas to give proper attention to their duties, and so part of them were marched out of the town to establish a camp near by, which was the beginning of old Fort Lowell.

When Carleton arrived, early in June, several steps were taken to assert the authority of the federal government in Arizona. On June 8 he issued a proclamation setting up the Territory of Arizona (somewhat ahead of proceedings in Congress), and declaring it placed under martial law. His reasons were in part expressed by the statement that “Now, in the present chaotic state in which Arizona is found to be, with no civil officers to administer the laws, indeed, with an utter absence of all civil authority, and with no security of life and property within its borders, it becomes the duty of the undersigned to represent the authority of the United States over the people of Arizona.. until such time as the President of the United States shall otherwise direct.” It turned out that there was little sign of discontent or disorder, perhaps because so many southern sympathizers had fled with Hunter's men, and Unionists who might have been revengeful for being exiled by Hunter's occupation of Tucson had not yet returned. Carleton does not seem to have been unduly harsh, considering the times and the frontier conditions which he had to control.

All citizens of Tucson were asked to take an oath of allegiance to the United States or get out of the territory. Nine men who were accused of terrorizing the people were arrested and sent to captivity at Fort Yuma. Some political prisoners were also arrested, among them being Sylvester Mowry who was accused of having given aid and supplies from the Patagonia Mine to Captain Hunter and of having made boastful pro-southern speeches. He spent six months in prison at Fort Yuma for his rashness.

Carleton taxed the merchants of Tucson for war expenses,

and collected a heavy tax especially from gamblers and saloon-keepers, to be used for sick and wounded Union soldiers. Otherwise there appears to have been nothing suggestive of oppression in his military regime, and probably under it Arizona had a more orderly government than she had ever known before, or at least since the end of Spanish rule.

The Apaches also paid little attention, it is probable, to proclamations, or the statement of Colonel Baylor, on March 20, 1862, ordering his subordinates to "use all means to persuade the Apaches or any tribe to come in for the purpose of making peace, and when you get them together kill all the grown Indians and take the children prisoners and sell them to defray the expense of killing the Indians. Buy whisky and such other goods as may be necessary for the Indians and I will order voucher given to cover the amount expended. Leave nothing undone to insure success, and have a sufficient number of men around to allow no Indian to escape."

This order from the Confederate Baylor could be matched by one from General Carleton of the California Column to Colonel Kit Carson, dated October 12, 1862: "All Indian men of that (Apache) tribe are to be killed whenever and wherever you can find them; the women and children will not be harmed, but you will take them prisoners. If the Indians send in a flag and desire to treat for peace, say to the bearer that now our hands are united and you have been sent to punish them for their treachery and their crimes; that you have no power to make peace; that you are there to kill them whenever you find them that we believe if we kill some of their men in fair open war, they will be apt to remember that it will be better for them to remain at peace than to be at war. I trust that this severity, in the long run, will be the most humane course that could be pursued toward these Indians.

If the Apaches could not appreciate nor understand these orders concerning them, they could certainly not fail to understand that the soldiers obeying those orders were more merciless than any white men they had ever known before. Although Carleton's order was not issued until late in 1862, Baylor's order was sufficient to show what military men in the West, Confederate as well as Union, thought about the Indian both then and later. It may have been the general policy of the Confederates toward Apaches that provoked the fierce attacks upon the retreating Texans under Hunter, for it was not until November of 1862 that President Jefferson Davis wisely repudiated Colonel Baylor's order of extermination.

But the Union forces were to have their share of Apache ferocity, whether they agreed with the principles of the Baylor order or not. On July 14, 1862, as the soldiers guarding the California Column's wagon train were entering Apache Pass after a thirsty march from Dragoon Springs, they were attacked by Mimbreno Apaches led by Mangas Coloradas and Chiricahua Apaches led by old Chief Cochise.

There followed what was perhaps the largest single battle between Americans and Apaches in Arizona history-largest in the numbers involved on both sides. Captain Thomas L. Roberts, in command of the soldiers, skilfully managed their fighting in such a way as to get through the pass, helped very much by the use of howitzers, whose shells burst among the rocks where the Apaches hid and made bloody havoc among them. The battle was renewed on July 16 as the wagon train came up to go through the pass, but the Indians were unable to stop the wagons and their guards from going through. On the whole, the battle of Apache Pass was a defeat for the Apaches, since they had lost more than sixty killed and an untold number wounded on the first day of the fighting.

The battle called to the attention of General Carleton the importance of controlling this strategic pass, whose value had already been recognized and appreciated by the Butterfield stage lines, which had built and maintained a station there. On July 27 Carleton gave orders to establish a military camp at the pass. This was the origin of old Fort Bowie, whence military patrols escorted travelers, wagon trains, and stagecoaches in later days past the zone of Apache danger.

There were no more important Indian battle in Arizona during 1862, but early in 1863 a campaign, under the direction of General J. R. West, was launched against the homeland of the Mimbrenos near the old Santa Rita copper mines. In the course of the fighting, Mangas Coloradas was captured, by trickery according to some accounts; and was killed while in captivity because, so his guards asserted, he had tried to escape. It was soon after this campaign that the Mimbrenos began to break up and either accept reservation life in New Mexico or join the Chiricahuas in southeastern Arizona.

On October 23, 1863, General Carleton set up another military district, known as that of Northern Arizona. Its creation was due to the increasing reports of discoveries of gold deposits in that region, which made more military establishments necessary for the protection of the incoming miners. One of the first forts built for this purpose was Fort Whipple. Originally it was located near the headwaters of the Verde River, but in May of 1864 it was moved so as to be near the site chosen for the new territorial capital, which would presently be known as Prescott.

Not all of the Apache warfare was waged between In-dians and soldiers. King Woolsey, a native of Alabama who had come to Arizona in 1860 and located a ranch at Agua Caliente hot springs on the Gila some eighty miles above Yuma, was a notable Indian fighter. He had enlisted in the Confederate army, but saw no active service and soon left it to return to Arizona in 1862. Next year he had taken up another ranch near Prescott, and in January of 1864 he led a party of settlers to deal out punishment to a band of Gila Apaches who had been making a practice of running off cat-tle in the vicinity.

The party, composed of thirty Americans and fourteen Maricopa and Pima Indians, found the Apaches near the present town of Miami, persuaded the chiefs to come into their camp for a conference and then killed them, while others of the expedition shot down many of the other Apaches. This affair, called the "Massacre at Bloody Tanks," is also known as the "Pinole Treaty," from an old version of it which said that poisoned pinole, or corn gruel, was fed to the Indians. It was a severe blow to the Gila and Tonto Apaches, who learned from it never to trust white men.

Elaborate plans for a completely destructive campaign against all the Apaches were drawn up in 1864, and Carleton issued an order that every able-bodied male Apache must be either put on a reservation or killed. But the campaign was something of a failure, for while it led to the deaths of over two hundred Indians and the wounding of many more, only thirty western Apaches were actually collected to be sent to the Bosque Redondo reservation provided for them in New Mexico.

The Civil War military campaigns in the East might be managed according to the best approved schools of strategy and tactics; but they were quite worthless in the mountains of Arizona, against such wily, elusive savages as the Apaches, who could very rarely be taken by surprise. Especially was it a hopeless campaign in 1864, because the soldiers did not know the country well enough. The end of the Civil War saw a considerable number of Apaches still unsubdued and free from any kind of restrictions in their mountain fast-nesses.

To the settlers this was intolerable. The first governor of the Territory of Arizona certainly voiced the attitude of most of the pioneers when in his message of September 26, 1864, he said to the First Legislative Assembly concerning the Apaches: "But for them, mines would be worked, innumerable sheep and cattle would cover these plains, and some of the bravest and most energetic men that were ever the pioneers of a new country, and who now fill bloody and unmarked graves, would be living to see their brightest anticipations realized. It is useless to speculate on the origin of this feeling, or inquire which party was in the right or wrong. It is enough to know that it is relentless and un-changeable. They respect no flag of truce, ask and give no quarter, and make a treaty only that, under the guise of friendship, they may rob and steal more extensively and with greater impunity. As to them, one policy only can be adopted. A war must be prosecuted until they are compelled to submit and go upon a reservation."

The last years of the Civil War brought another Indian campaign which partly affected Arizona and which was so highly successful by contrast with the confused attacks upon the Apache, that it is difficult to believe the methods most used in Arizona were the right ones. This campaign was the one launched by Colonel Kit Carson against the Navajos by an order of Carleton issued at Santa Fe on June 15, 1863.

For many years these proud, independent desert folk had been, unlike their southern Apache cousins, self-supporting in a pastoral fashion, with flocks and herds of their own. Unloved by other Indians and feared by Mexicans, they had few friends and lived to themselves in the canyons, deserts and mesas of northeastern Arizona and northwestern New Mexico.

An American campaign against them in 1846, during the Mexican War, had forced them to agree grudgingly to a sort of truce, which they had kept when it suited them until in the spring of 1860. Then about a thousand of their warriors suddenly attacked Fort Defiance and nearly captured it. For the next three years these "lords of the North" among south-western Indians had had things very much their own way. They had gone raiding down the Rio Grande valley as far as the Mescalero Apache reservations and had defied any attempt to pursue them back into their stronghold which centers in and around the fabulous Canyon de Chelly.

Their social organization was based on a principle similar to the old Scotch clan system, which meant that they had no central authority, not even chiefs as influential as Mangas Coloradas, Juan Jose or Cochise were for the Apaches. So it was next to impossible to impose any treaty upon all of them, unless they could all be rounded up at one time; for no clan or head man felt responsible for carrying out agree-ments made by any other. Nevertheless, Carleton felt it necessary to force them to submit to some kind of reserva-tion life, for as he said, "until they can raise enough to be self-sustaining you can feed them cheaper than you can fight them."

Kit Carson was given an almost completely free hand in his organization of the Navajo campaign, which he launched from Forts Wingate in New Mexico and Defiance in Arizona Territory. He had command of 736 men, besides the co-operation of another force of 326 men under Lieutenant-Colonel Francisco Chaves.

The drive, consisting of a series of encircling attacks upon the desert Navajo, started in July of 1863 and lasted all through that summer and the following autumn. Carson's reports again and again summarize the raids, the killings and the captures of Navajos. So many Navajos were killed or captured that by the middle of September they were voluntarily surrendering and being sent down the Rio Grande to Bosque Redondo reservation. Nearly two hundred had been taken by mid-November; and by the end of November Carson could find no more of them outside the snow-choked entrances to Canyon de Chelly.

This stronghold, thirty miles long and a thousand feet deep, had been regarded as impregnable, even in warmer seasons; but the Indian-fighting reputation of "Carson's Men" was at stake, and in mid-winter, early in January of 1864, both ends of the canyon were stopped up by parties of white men. After scouting along the rims of the canyon, Carson ordered a systematic invasion of the depths of what he called "this celebrated Gilbraltar of the Navajoes," wherein, as the white men advanced, the Indians jumped about on the ledges "like mountain cats, hallooing at me, swearing and cursing and threatening vengeance on my command in every variety of Spanish they were capable of mustering."

Cold and hunger came to the aid of the white invaders,

and the morale of the Navajos seemed at last broken. By February 14, 1864, a thousand of them had been collected as prisoners from Canyon de Chelly, and by the end of that month, three thousand five hundred had been taken to Bos-que Redondo. Before the middle of April it was reported that eight thousand Navajos were either at Bosque Redondo or on the way thereto. This place, the Mescalero Apache reservation in southern New Mexico, was not a good country for the Navajos, and they died off by hundreds there, or were constantly running away.

In June of 1868, therefore, a final agreement was made between them and the United States government, assigning them a reservation in their homeland, under conditions which would encourage them to become law-abiding people. As a whole, the Navajos kept this treaty and settled down quietly to be ranked among the most peaceful and industri-ous of American Indians today. It was the last achievement of Kit Carson in connection with the history of Arizona, al-though he continued to serve as an Indian fighter and agent for some years more.

Throughout the last years of the Civil War, Arizona as a whole knew more peace than might have been expected, save for Indian warfare. The needs of the United States troops garrisoned in the region caused something of a revival of trade, and the army paymaster seems to have been the most important business man of the new territory. Credit and commerce were alike dependent upon his semi-annual visits, which were the occasion for spending sprees, at least in Tucson and around other army posts. The issuance of govern-ment vouchers to laborers and rancheros between the pay-master's visits supplied the need of money, much as had Tubac's silver slugs and "pig money."

The population of Tucson had more than doubled before the end of the Civil War became known in Arizona, and all over the territory-no longer only south of the Gila-new towns were being hopefully founded. Steady lines of pack-trains came northward from the now friendly ports and towns of Sonora, as border relations calmed down. Along the Gila and Cooke's Wagon Road came freighters' ox-drawn wagons through the small river valleys where it was said by some early settlers and travelers that the tall grass grew as high as a horse's back.

In fact, it was overgrazing of freighters' and settlers' oxen and beef cattle which by 1870 had begun so to deplete this growth of grass that the freighters had to turn to the use of the more cheaply fed mule. Closely guarded trains of freight-ing wagons, if they safely eluded Indian attacks in the mountains, required usually at least three months to make their way painfully from the Missouri River to the gateway of the Southwest, Santa Fe. From there it was often at least another month's journey to the middle Gila Valley.

That was one reason for the prosperity of Colorado City, across from Fort Yuma; yet while men were thankful for the use of the Colorado River through Mexico to the Gulf, they were beginning to curse the treaties which had left Arizona without access to a port of her own on the Gulf. It was clumsy, expensive and aggravating to have to transfer heavy freight from ocean-going steamers to river steamboats and barges at the Colorado-mouth, ascend the river to Fort Yuma, and then transport the goods two hundred and fifty miles to the chief settlement of the Gila Valley. Yet many considered it better than the long overland push under the constant threat of Indian attacks.

No matter how they traveled, it was customary for new arrivals-in a day when hotels were scarcely known-to cluster in great, disorderly camps on the outskirts of the towns and military posts. A vivid picture of Tucson, chief center of population of the new territory, is given in the account of a soldier who came there in 1866: "With the exception of the soldiers and teamsters in transit there were not over a dozen white men in the town, and not one white woman. The doors of many houses consisted of raw hides stretched over rough frames, the windows being apertures in the walls barred with upright sticks stuck therein.... I found that the one street of Tucson was fairly bubbling with life and motion. Its whole length was taken up by a long train of army wagons, and another of prairie schooners carrying flour from Sonora, Mexico, while heavy loaded hay wagons were trying to make their way to the government corral. Cursing teamsters, rollicking soldiers, rustling gamblers and the usual nondescripts of a frontier town jostled each other in the narrow street devoid of sidewalks. . I started my ration wagon to camp, then looked for a store where I might purchase a much needed paper of needles and thread. The only store worthy of the name was quite easily found and the desired articles were produced. To my horror and the great financial detriment of my purse I found that a paper of needles cost seventy-five cents and a spool of thread twenty-five cents. As I gave vent to my astonishment at such exorbitant prices, the store-keeper observed, somewhat sarcasti-cally, I thought, 'It is not the value of the article but the cost money on the freight, you know.' However, the thing worked both ways as I found later when I brought to this store our surplus rations and received for them per pound: Coffee, seventy-five cents (it sold for a dollar); brown sugar, fifty cents; bacon, sixty cents. . . ."

The opening of new mines had no small part to play in the revival of business and increase of settlement. Several of the mines opened in the Civil War days have already been mentioned. It was partly to aid the mining industry that new roads were being marked or constructed in the middle and late sixties, although it was reported in 1866 that not a single stage line was in operation in the territory. The Indian wars had a good deal to do with this condition.

Culturally, not very much can be said about Arizona in those confused Civil War days. American women were exceedingly scarce in the territory before 1872. Amusements of the more respectable sort largely centered around "bailes" and fandangos, at which the guests seem to have behaved decorously enough and at which the only liquid refreshment ostensibly served was "limonada."

Newspapers were hardly known in Arizona during the Civil War, but toward its end there appeared one or two frontier sheets, the Arizona Miner being started at Prescott on March 9, 1864, and the Arizonian being revived at Tucson in 1867. These two papers were successively the official papers of the territory. In 1870 the Yuma Sentinel began publication. Public schools were unknown until after the Civil War, and children among the 6,482 white people reported in the census of 1860 for the region south of the Gila, simply had to go uneducated, be taught by private tutors or attend the one or two private and church schools maintained in and around Tucson and Prescott. By the large, Arizona in the Civil War decade was as thoroughly a frontier country as could be found anywhere in the United States.