The Civil War in Arizona

hundred years have passed since Union and Confederate forces met on farflung battlefields to determine whether there should be one nation or two on the land that stretched from Atlantic to Pacific coasts and from Canada to Mexico. Arizona did not play as spectacular a part in that struggle, perhaps, as did some of the other states involved in the conflict. Yet Arizona's role was an important one because of the effect it had on several aspects of the war. In the year 1861, when the Civil War began, Arizona and New Mexico were regarded as a unit a vast area of nearly undeveloped territory stretching from Texas to California. It was a territory that, geographically, was as southern as the Confederacy, itself. The Confederate States all lay south of a line drawn from the Eastern shore of Maryland to the northwest corner of Texas. Continue that line west to the Pacific and, behold, Arizona and New Mexico also lie to the south. The Confederate leaders were aware of Arizona's importance to their cause a full year before Federal military planners in Washington awoke to the same realization. Luckily for the Union, the Confederates were unable to follow up and hold their initial gains in the Southwest, otherwise the Civil War story might have a somewhat different ending.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY ROSS SANTEE No less a person than Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, had a long-standing interest in the Southwest. While he was Secretary of War in the cabi-net of President Franklin Pierce, Davis had set in opera-tion the political machinery that brought about Uncle Sam's camel experiment-the testing of four-legged "ships of the desert" from the Old World on the arid plains and desert regions of the American Southwest.

Jeff Davis was also among the Southern leaders who had hoped, ever since the Gadsden Purchase in 1853, that a transcontinental railroad could be built along the 32nd parallel. This road would be a vital link between the Southern States and ports on the Pacific.

While war clouds gathered black and angry over Washington and Richmond in the East, most of the nation's peacetime army was stationed in the West. Fully 75 per cent of the men wearing U.S. Army uniforms were stationed at frontier posts, scattered from Canada to Mexico, and from the Pacific Coast to the eastern slopes of the Rockies. These garrisons, guarding more than a million square miles of territory, were divided for administrative purposes into five great military de-partments: Texas, New Mexico (including Arizona), Utah, Oregon, and the Pacific (California).

Many of the officers in the U.S. Army were South-erners. Ever since American Revolutionary War days, sons of leading Southern families had looked to the Army for careers. After the Mexican War, many Southerners saw service against the western Indians. Many were still serving in the West when the opening guns at Fort Sumter called them home to offer their swords to the Confederacy. The experience and military know-how these men carried to the Southern side showed in the early victories and better tactics of the Confederate fighting forces.

Highest ranking of the officers who "took the Texas route" that led South was Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston. He resigned as commander of the Department of the Pacific, U.S.A., to take charge of the Confederate De-partment of the West (Mississippi) until his death in the Battle of Shiloh.

Others stationed in the Southwest were to gain fame in the South. Capt. Richard S. Ewell who commanded in Arizona, Maj. James Longstreet, and Lt. Joseph Wheel-er all rose to the rank of lieutenant general in the Con-federate Army. Col. William W. Loring, who resigned as commander of the Department of New Mexico, and Capt. Cadmus M. Wilcox became Confederate major generals, Maj. Hancy Hopkins Sibley returned as a Confederate brigadier general at the head of an invading army from Texas Lt. Col. Googe B. Crittenden and Capt. Carter L. Sasvenson also exchanged their blue regulation sack for jackets befitting Confederate generals While their offices were changing aides for the com-

ing struggle said urging them to do the same, the most biased men of the U.S. Army, to a large extent, remained loyal to the blue uniforms they were wasting. When resignations hit the army posts and garrisons severely under-officered, non-coms were brevetted to fill the vacancies. These men arrived well, but the transition was not always smooth and valuable time was lost in rear-rangement Not that the military bosses in Washington allowed the majority of their forces to remain in the West. Far from it. All available men were needed in the East, and they were ordered there on the double. The ink was Fort Sumter were scarcely cool when, on an Alley 17, 1861, Commanding General Winfield Scott signed the order. Ten companies of infantry from Utah, the 5th and 7th In-fantry regiments from New Mexico, and four companies of the 10th Infantry in Colorado and New Mexico were to proceed to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, for transpor-tation East. This order was given at the same time that the Confederacy was planning a western invasion.

The Southerners had it all figured out, and many worried Union men in the West saw the logic of that reasoning. Public sentiment in Arizona was almost unan-imously Southern, and there were million Southern sympathizers in California, just waiting for a chance to show their feelings. The Indians had no love for the United States. Cherokees and Choctaws, forced by the U.S. Government from their ancestral homes in the East, could be used to terrorize the Spanish-speaking people of New Mexico who were loyal in the Union. Apaches and Navajos, while not exactly Southern sympathizers, could be counted on to help by blocking mail routes, burning supply trains, and engaging the attention of U.S. troops that, otherwise, could be used as reinforcements elsewhere.

In Utah, the Southerners reasoned, were the Mormons, and they would gladly accept allegiance to any other government after the persecutions and harassments they had endured from the United States. Indeed, some reports of rebellion in Utah in 1858 had resulted in the Army's futile Utah Expedition which accomplished nothing at a cost of several hundred lives and fifteen million American dollars.

For all these reasons, the Southerners planners were sure of success. The Southwest was full of ripe plums, the California gold fields were booming, rich ore deposits in Colorado and Nevada were already being developed, and more would come from Arizona and New Mexico; new territory could be gained from Sonora and other states in accordance with Southern plans on the Pacific would be free of blockades, and through them could flow trade with the whole world. All these plans were ready to fall into Southern hands, so the planners said, just as soon as a successful invasion of the Southwest could be managed.

Meanwhile, as the South was preparing to move in, the Union was busily moving out. Forts and army posts in New Mexico and Arizona were being abandoned, either because of orders from Washington or because their politically-confused officers did not think they were worth defending.

In southern Arizona, Forts Buchanan and Breckenridge were abandoned, and the Federal garrison was withdrawn from Tucson. This left no U.S. military outpost between Fort Yuma on the California side of the Colorado and Fort Fillmore, a few miles north of El Paso on the Rio Grande. Fort Fillmore was to be held until troops from the outposts further west was safe. But the fort's commander, Maj. Isaac Lynde, first abandoned and burned his post and later surrendered his retreating force of more than 400 U.S. Regulars, plus $90,000 worth of Federal drafts, to about 300 Confederate invaders under Lt. Col. John R. Baylor-without a shot being fired.

Colonel Baylor came from Texas at the head of four companies of the 2nd regiment, Texas Mounted Volunteers. He moved into New Mexico early in July, 1861, and on the first of August he proclaimed the establishment of the Confederate States Territory of Arizona south of the 34th parallel, with himself as governor and with the town of Mesilla as capital.

This was a logical starting place for an invasion of the Southwest. Towns looked west rather than east, and while some Texas battalions covered themselves with glory on battlefields in the East, other Texans preferred military duties in the open spaces of the West. Besides, Texas had an old grudge with New Mexico. Ever since the Mexican War, Texas had wanted the Rio Grande, from headwaters to mouth, as their state's western boundary. New Mexico was an undesirable claim-jumper, according to Texas thinking, and here was the chance to set the boundary right.

Withdrawal of Union troops from southern Arisna posts was a desterdly move, according to the few white actiers in the region. Tucson felt the departure of its garkon most kesaly. With the troops went awareness of low and nedes. The Old Pachlo was kft to the tenuler service of raiding Apeches, Mexican bandits, and whe ever other lawless clocnents wished to crowi in and strike. Miks rattleckes ous of the anrrounding deserts and mountains.

To bring some messore of remedy to Tucson's plight, sixty-eight voters met in April of óc, pamed as oc nance of secseion, and choss Grenville L. Oay to represent them in the Confederata Congress. This accion, in towny weys, pushed the border of the Confederacy sgainst the border of Califorale. It also encouraged socnedocists on the count to increase their efforts to jola forms with timir Babel berdhren in Azisona. To block anch a move, the Federal conanander at Fort Youns ordered sil boats on the Colorado moored to the won bank where they were guarded by Union soldiers. Any California "Secesh" would have to swim if he wanted to get into Arizonas.

As antunya coons to the Southwest in 1861, the Federal forces began to recover from their initial shock. Col. El ward R. &. Canby succeeded Colonel Lacing om New Mesico Department cooker when Loring wenst South. Camby had a real job on his hade. He lacked experienced enced officers, his force of 3,800 men incinding 1,200 Regulers, was leasted in a donat ares. He He locked fards, provisions, horses, uniforum, guns, and acramen tion. Morale was low-very low. Wahingeon, it seemed, had drawn off as meny enca and as youch matxxial as pos sible, and had then forgotuan hius.

Canby studied the situation and come to a decision. There were, to be removed, three invasion routes open to the Confederates, and both would converge on Santa Fe as the long-established heart of New Mexico. One was the route already being taken by Colonel Baylor, via El Paso and the Rio Grande. The other was from the northern Texas panhandle by way of the Canadian and Pecos Rivers, rumor had it of a Confederate force gathering for this invasion.

Rather had weakened his forces by scattering them to many numerous small outposts. Canby decided to concentrate these at two points-Fort Craig on the Rio Grande, to hold Baylor in check, and Fort Union east of Santa Fe and north of Las Vegas, to block the route from north Texas. All Fort Craig needed were additional earthworks, but Fort Union had to be entirely rebuilt.

And so another month of 1861 faded into 1862.

With the coming of the new year, another actor entered the drama. It was a re-entry, really, for Lt. Henry Hopkins Sibley had been in command of United States troops at Taos, N.M., until he resigned to join the Confederacy. A good officer, popular with the town, his chief claim to fame up to this time was the invention of the "Sibley tent" and "Sibley stove" which had become standard army equipment. His chief drawback was a reputation of a great thirst for hard liquor-a thirst which sometimes even took precedence over his duties as a commanding officer. Sibley seems to have shared Grant's reputation. No concrete evidence ever pointed to his drunkenness. Evidence does point to dysentery, however.

Sibley spent the summer of '61 conferring with President Davis in Richmond, using the arguments already given to gain official approval for a Confederate invasion of the Southwest. This was eventually granted, verbally and in general terms, and by autumn Sibley was back in San Antonio wearing the stars of a Confederate Brigadier General and authorized to raise three regiments of cavalry in West Texas.

It was at the head of this new army of some 3,700 men that General Sibley joined forces with Colonel Baylor at Messilla in January of 1862. Combining forces, the Confederates from Texas began advancing on Fort Craig where Union Colonel Canby was waiting.

The American Civil War has been called the war of brother against brother, and the relationship of Camby

and Sibley was typical of this-they were brothers-in-law. Mrs. Canby was a Louisiana gied, as Southern as any belle in Dixie, but, with her husband, she remained true to the Union while her brother joined the South.

The two armies met for the Battle of Val Verde on February 21, 1862, on a field across the Rio Grande and some six miles above Fort Craig near the present site of Val Verde, N.M. The outcome was not decisive. Canby had trouble with the New Mexico volunteers commended. by Colonels Kit Carson and Miguel Pino-the volunteers were extremely reluctant to come to grips with the Rebel forces from Texas.

The Union force under Canby lost 68 killed, 160. wounded-the total did not include Now Mexicans who went over the hill. Their loss, Canby said grimly, "adds to rather than diminishes our strength." The Coufederates under Sibley sustained a loss of only 36 killed and 15o wounded, and after a day or so of rest they were able to contione their march toward Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Colonel Canby and his army remained in Fort Craig.

Union loyalists in Colorado had not been sitting idle during the opening months of the war. They realized, if the military big-wigs in Washington did not, that the rich mines mines in Colorado would be easy prey to a Rebel.. invusion from New Mexico. Governor William Gilpin of Colorado issued a call and, by the time they were needed, the 1st Colorado Volunteers (nine companies of Infantry and one of cavalry) were ready. Led by Col. John Slough, the "Piko's Peakers" started toward Santa Fe. They resched Fort Union on March 12, where Slough took fall command. He sent his men westward along the old Santa Fe Trail at the same time that General Sibley ordered his men east along the old trail. Advance units ofboth forces met on March 16 between Pigoon's reach and the mouth of Apache Canyon. After a preading attack lasting several hours the Confederates withdrew to Johnsou's ranch. The main meeting at Apache Pass on March 28 has been labeled "The Gettysburg of the West." After it was fought the Confederate fortunes began to wane,, and those of the Union began to rise.

The main battle at Apache Pass near Glorieta went in the Confederates' favor, but a chance encounter behind the battle line changed the outcome. All of Sibley's supply wagons, contsining everything from officers personal baggage to medicine and rations for the enlisted men, were captured and destroyed. The Union troops who did this were were commanded by Major John Chivington, a fighting churchmen who, b who, before the war, had boen had been presiding cider of the Rocky Mountain District of the Methodist Episcopel Church.

General Sibley's rétreat began with the loss of his supplies. There were a few more, skirmishes, but in the mouths that followed, his men struggled back along the Rio Grande, living off the country as ben they could. The hardships they endured would make a separate story. Their going hát Arizona and New Mexico safe, for the time being, from the threst of Confederate invasion via Texas. Canby, by this time promoted to the rank of brigadier general, remained in control of the situation along the Rio Grande and the military spotlight shifted further west.

The battlefield of Glorista in New Mexico is not always marked on modern road maps. Val Verde lies a few miles east of U.S. Highway 85, between the towns of Trath or Consequences and Socorro. No improved rosad leads to it, nor to the crumbling remmius of Fort Craig nemby. Further north, U.S. Highway 84 goes over Gloriets Pass, and seventy miles northeast of there, old Fort Union is now a National Monument. In the plaza st Santa Fe a weatherbeaten sandstone and marble shaft honors the memory of Federal soldiers who died fighting the Rebek, along with other "heroes who have fallen in the various battles with savage Indians in the Territory of New Mexico." But it is hard to find mention of these Civil War sites in any of present day New Mexico's glowing tourist licurature. The "Land of Enchantment" is mach prouder of its early Spanish heritage then it is of the role it played in the American War Berween the States.

DAVID L. REas

Machinery for the next act in the Southwestern drama had been set in motion a short time before the battle st. Val Verde, when Colonel Baylor ordered Capt. Sherod Homer and a zoo-man company of Confederate Co. "A," and Reg. Texas Mounted Rifles to capture western Arizona for the South. Captain Hunter reached Treson on February 18, 1863, and was welcomed by the Confederaos sympathizers and most residents thore. Any uniform, nó matter what color, meant more law, order, and prote tion from roving bandits and Indians than residents of the Old Pueblo had enjoyed since the Union gerrison had been withdrawn Colorado had helped the Union forces in northern New Mexico. Now it was the turn of California to give aid. This came in the form of a brigade of California Volunteers, with Col. James Henry Carleton in com mand. This plan for invasion at Ft. Yeuna was not approved until December 18, 1861, by McClellen. But-getting supplies for it was a big problem, and so were the problems presented by the waterless miks of desert lying between the Colorado and Tucson.

By February, at the same time Confoderate Captain Hunter moved in from the east, the Californians were ready to get under way from the west. Their movements were speeded, somewhat, by Hunter's formys from Tucson toward Yume.

To check on these Rebel antics, Ft, Yume commander Maj. Edwin A. Riggs, checking on sin overdue express zider, sent Col. William McClesve and a squad of cavalry across the river into Arizona. They checked up, all right. MicCleave ran into Hunter unexpectedly at the home and mill owned by Ami M. White, & Union agent. The Fed eral officer, thiaking he was among friends, was unarmed. The Confederate captain drew his pistol, threatened to "blow out" the bluecost's brains, sanamoned his men, and McClerve and his detachment of ninė picked men were prisoners. Hauter paroled the troopers in Tucson, but sent MicCleave to lesilla under guard. Four months later Union Colonel McCleave was exchanged for two Coofederate lieutenants.

This incident served as a spur to Colonel Carleton, who had been stalled at Fort Yuma by a combination of factors these included unusually heavy winter rainfall, lack of supplies, and scarcity of information about true conditions in Arizona. Naturally, the Californien did not know of the Battle of Val Verde which, by this time, had taken place. There were no lines of communication open across Arizons in the spring of 186a.

The first group of Californians, a detachment of army men under Capt. William P. Calloway, crossed the Colorado late in March with orders to open the road to Tucson. Eighty miles east of Fort Yuma, probably on March 29 (accounts are not too definite) some of Calloway's pickets had a brush with some Confederate pickets, and in the exchange of shoes one. Californian was wounded. (This occurred at Stanwis, near present day Sentinel,) The Rebels escaped, unidentified and apparently unharmed, but this exchange of ballers and the bloodIng of one Union soldier is said to be the westernmost of all Civil War engagements.

Captain Calloway continued toward Tucson, reaching the peaceful Pima Indian Villages on the Gila River by April za, The Indians shared their meager food sapplies with the. Union troops and reported to Calloway that a party of Confederate scouts was in the neighborhood of Picacho Pass. The Captain sent two small detachments out to catch the Rebels, and on April 14 he started the rest of his force toward Tucson.

According to Calloway's orders, the two scouting detachments were to "surround" the Confederates and capture them. Lt. James Barrett with twelve men was to tarn off the main road to Tucson as he approached Picacho Pass and come in from the east through an opening to the left of the mountain. Lt. Ephriam C. Baldwin, with another twelve men, was to cross in from the west, and the two were to cut off the Confederate retreat while Calloway's main body stacked from the front.

The Confederates in question were a party of Arizoths Volunteers (reports of their number vary from eight to sixteen but later authorities have pretty well established the number at eleven)--part of Hunter's outfit-commanded by Lt. Jack Swilling. Lieutenant Barrett was too eager; he overstepped his orders, moved too far ahead of the main body of troops, and failed to make connections with Lieutenant Baldwin. When Bennett came upon them, Swilling's scouts took cover in the chaparral. Barrett charged, fired his pistol, and ordered the Rebels to surrender. The Rebels answered with gunfire that knocked four Federals out of their saddles. With these shots, the skirmish-engagement-bartleat Picacho Pass, the only real Civil War fighting that took place in Arizona, began in earnest. Three of the Confederates soon threw down their arms and surrendered. Lieutenant Barrett dismounted to help tie up the prisoners and, when he climbed back into his saddle, a bullet hit him, broke his neck, and killed him instantly. Thus, Lieutenant Barrett was the first (and only) officer casualty at Picacho. By the time the fight was over, at least two of the Confederates were wounded, some accounts say another was dead, and three were prisoners. The remaining Rebels escaped to carry word of the fight to Captain Hunter in Tucson.

The Confederate leader realized that odds against him were growing too great, and he decided to retreat. He led his men eastward into Apache territory, had a fight with the Indians at Dragoon Springs. Hunter did not leave Tucson until May 4, some 19 days after the battle. Upon leaving only a part of the Confederate forces, he traveled directly east. A detachment returned to Ft. Thorn via a "Southern route." Hunter's men are noted as a Unit in the Mesilla Valley on May 27. The Union forces did not enter Tucson until more than a month after Picacho. As for the Federals, their loss was three killed and three wounded. Besides Lieutenant Barrett, Trooper George Johnson of Company A, 1st California Cavalry, was shot near the heart and died in a few minutes; Trooper William S. Leonard of Company D was hit in the back by a bullet which ranged upward through his body and emerged at his mouth-he died the following morning. William C. Tobin of Company B could thank the brass decorazion on his hair for saving his life. This metal ornament deflected the bullet that hit him in the forehead-he had an ugly wound but not a fatal one. The other two Federals were wounded on arm and shoulder.

The survivors bivouacked on the field for the night and buried the dead near to where they fell, close by the Tucson road. Such were the fortunes of war. A temporary breastwork, thrown up near the Pima Villages because the Federais expected a Confederate attack, was named Fort Barrett in the dead lieutenant's honor, but it was used for less than a month and today its exact location is a matter of speculation. For a time the names of Privates Johnson and Leonard were read at each roll call of their respective companies and a comrade answered, "He died for his country." Later, the Arizona Pioneers' Historical Society erected a monument at Picacho Pass (not to be confused with monument in park at town of Picacho)-but Arizona, like New Mexico, gives more prominence to her Spanish and her six-gun history than to her Civil War activities. As for the Rebel lieutenant-Jack Swilling-he stayed in Arizona and played a role that left his name in territorial history. Choosing not to retreat to Texas with Captain Hunter, Swilling remained in Arizona as a civilian and even helped the Union forces against the Apaches. While he and the Federals might not see eye to eye in national conflict, they were allies when it came to fighting the Indians.

After the war, when he had settled down to prospect-ing around Wickenburg, ex-Confederate Swilling visited the hay camp of John T. Smith, located on the site of present day Phoenix. Smith had contracted to supply hay for the cavalry horses at nearby Camp McDowell. Świlling saw possibilities in the region, took stock of the ancient Hohokam canals, and when he returned to Wickenburg in 1867 he organized the Swilling Irrigation Canal Company with a capital of $10,000. "Swilling's ditch" as it was called, was the real beginning of present day activity-agricultural and otherwise-in Phoenix and the Salt River Valley.

Meanwhile, the war dragged on. Captain Calloway eventually reached Tucson and on May 20, 1862, troop-ers of Company B, 1st California Cavalry, raised the Union flag over the Old Pueblo once more, Colonel Carleton got the rest of his men across the desert, send-ing them out a company or so at a time, twenty-four hours apart, to conserve water at the water holes. Often they marched at night when the desert heat was not so intense.

By June 8 the Californians were established in Tucson. Colonel Carleton proclaimed martial law and appointed himself governor of Arizona. This made two Arizona governors-Confederate Colonel Baylor in Mesilla and Federal Colonel Carleton in Tucson. But by this time Baylor was in retreat and was unable to perform his gubernatorial duties (if any). He finished the war as a private soldier for the Confederacy. His demotion, ironically enough, was the result of President Davis's disapproval of Baylor's order, early in 1862, to captains of the Arizona Volunteers. They were to encourage the Apaches and other tribes to come in for parleys, and while so engaged, the adult Indians were to be killed and the children enslaved "to defray the expense of killing the Indians."

Among his first jobs as governor, along with rounding up and jailing a dozen or so Rebel sympathizers who remained in Tucson, Colonel Carleton had to make contact with General Canby. As messengers, he sent three men-.. Expressman John Jones, Sgt. William Wheeler, and a Mexican guide named Chavez. Of these, only Expressman Jones escaped Apache scalping knives, and he had the bad luck to be captured by some of General Sibley's disintegrating Confederate forces.

In spite of his capture, Expressman Jones managed to get word to General Canby that "California is coming." More than that, he told the Confederates, too, and the news helped to hasten their disintegration. General Sibley got back to Texas with less than half of the army he started with. He did little of note for the rest of the war, but later he served as a general in the Egyptian army, along with some other ex-Confederates.

There were no other Union-against-Confederate military operations in Arizona. However, on July 15, 1862, when Carleton sent a force from Tucson toward Mesilla, via the old Butterfield Stage route and Apache Pass, another more bitter, bloodier, and longer-lasting war began in Arizona.

The Federals-126 men, twenty-two wagons, and two howitzers commanded by Capt. Thomas S. Robertswere ambushed and surrounded in Apache Pass by Mimbreno Apaches led by Mangas Coloradas and Chiricahua Apaches under Cochise. This was the opening battle of the Apache War that was to keep Arizona a bloody noman's-land for more than two decades. The Battle at Apache Pass lasted for more than ten hours, and only by using his howitzers-new weapons that the Indians called "wagons that shoot"-was Roberts finally able to drive off the attackers. (A second school of thought on this is the fact that howitzers were not too effective at Apache Pass even as a "noisemaker." The severe injury to Mangus Coloradas seems to have been the cause of Apache withdrawal.) Colonel Carleton ordered the establishment of a fortFort Bowie-to protect Apache Pass, and went on to join forces with General Canby, who was already probing into west Texas.

So ended the Civil War in Arizona-the Southwest was saved for the Union. The gold and silver bullion from Western mines went to swell the Federal treasury and buy supplies for the Union armies. No Rebel raiders were ever able to sweep the seas from California harbors, and no Confederate cotton found its way to world markets through Pacific ports.

The South made a noble try at invasion, and lost. Had the Confederates won, historians of the future might have been compelled to regard the campaign in Arizona and New Mexico as one of the deciding factors of the Civil War. As it was-a Union victory-its brightness was eclipsed by more massive victories further east: Grant at Vicksburg, Meade at Gettysburg, Grant at Richmond, and Sherman at Atlanta.

Arizona's role in the Civil War was not a spectacular one but, without it, the overall story might have been vastly different when evaluated on history.

Yours sincerely KINO PORTFOLIO BY DEGRAZIA

When your issue on Father Kino appeared (March, 1961) I was fascinated by the art work of DeGrazia used as illustrations. I wrote to you and asked if larger prints of the Kino paintings by DeGrazia would be produced. You promised to let me know when and if such prints would be made available to the public. Mrs. Ethel Enninger New Orleans, Louisiana

WITH A SONG IN THEIR HEARTS:

FINE WRITING

AND A BIT OF POETRY A THING OF BEAUTY

"Oh, it's such a lovely bush," she said; But the gardener laughed and shook his head"This isn't the kind of weed to grow, And if I were you I'd let it go." So he cut it down that very day, And she sighed as it was hauled away.To her it was beautiful. Indeed, Why shouldn't she grow a tumbleweed?

THE POTSHERD

To a layman like me, it helps a lot To know that a potsherd is just a piece of broken pot; To know, behind the talk of color, shape, design, It helped an aborigine to dine; To see in this broken bit of clay A brown-skinned baby, clumsy at his play, Cuffed by a weary mother, and whimpering so, Because he broke a dish a thousand years ago.

THIS TIMELESS SHORE

The tide of faith has washed this timeless shore Holding the answer of the heart's desire; In lock of silence at the desert's door Is clasped the hidden pulse of sentient fire. Silent is man who left the wagon-wheel As symbol of the journey he must take Lonely the wanderer who will come to kneel Upon the rock where empty echoes break. Beyond uncertainties the certain path Is vision that compels the seeker's eye, Daring to climb in spite of tempest-wrath The height that will unseal a sure reply: And in the proud insistence of the tide No heart and no man's spirit is denied.

REVEILLE

Gently Spring lies sleeping, Veiled in amethyst, Quaking buds of April Wake her with their kiss. Silver brooks and brown birds Beckon with their song: Hasten! Spring and dress youWinter won't be long.

WHITE MOUNTAIN SPRING

Winter ruled with regal pomp, Ermine-clad in snows; Spring, the rowdy, loves to romp On Miss Summer's toes!

SHEPHERDESS

Bright star-sheep peep And browse from deep White meadows of The Milky Way: Comes the dawnDiana doth yawn And lead her sleepy Lambs away.

SECRET

The sky Told me why The stars hid in The day It seems That the sun Had chased them Away

EAST VERDE RIVER Continued from page four

called it maysee) and warned us of the perils of Hardscrabble Canyon.

Fishing at the confluence of the two rivers, he said was the best ever. He had been there. But-and then came the phrase we were now becoming accustomed to hearing “you can't hardly get there from here.” Not without a four-wheel-drive vehicle, at least. Then, if we did get there, chances were we would not be able to get out again.

By then, reaching the confluence had become an obsession with us. We tried anyway. The rancher was right. We could not get near the place from there.

Later came long talks with the proprietors of the little gas station and cafe at Strawberry. These people know the country like most of us know our city block-maybe better. Friendly, informative, the finest people an outdoor sportsman could hope to meet.

They said it couldn't be done.

So far as we were concerned they were right. A three-day trip finally ended on the Verde River itself, at a pleasant camping ground. The place was maintained by Arizona Public Service Company at Childs Power Plant on the river very near Verde Hot Springs resort. The confluence with the East Verde was only a few miles downstream-maybe six miles, it was estimated by the men at the plant. But what miles! Absolutely inaccessible by motor vehicle. And walking was out of the question in the time remaining. Though it was perhaps six airline miles, the route was across deep canyons and steep mountains-more like twenty miles step by step. Nor could we count on following the stream bed, then rain-swollen and raging.

Finally there came a jeep trip in a four-wheel drive, with Charlie Waldron, of Phoenix, at the wheel. We made a valiant assault and actually came within sight of the confluence of the two streams. But by then it was late afternoon, we were nearing exhaustion from scouting trail on foot for the jeep, and an accident had caused us to run critically short of water. Again we went home, again defeated but exhilarated by the magnificent emptiness of the country we had traveled.

Later, Arizona State Game and Fish Department Ranger Bob Hernbrode told us that we had been within sight of victory. If we had just taken a different turn of the road... Bob promised that he would show us how to do it, because by darn he had been there by pickup truck. It could be done.

Then winter brought snow to the highlands, and rain to the river, and uncertain conditions to roads which were, at best, remnants of old wagon trails. Until middle spring or early summer that dream of fishing where the Verde and East Verde Rivers mingle their waters would have to be set aside again.

But the outdoorsman, even the city-living outdoorsman who gets into wild country only on weekends during good weather, is essentially an optimist. Not only are we certain that we will get to the confluence this year, but we feel that every defeat was really a victory. For we did discover in our wanderings some exciting, tremendously beautiful country which is readily accessible by auto. Country which anyone can visit who wants to leave behind, just for a time, the desert lowlands and to visit the pine-scattered, manzanita-strewn highlands.

This country centers around Payson. We chose Payson as our headquarters for our various assaults on the confluence, and it was always to Payson which we returned, tired, defeated, but excitingly refreshed. And it was from Payson that we made our relatively easy, entirely successful treks to the upper reaches of the East Verde.

The East Verde River itself rises under a fallen pine tree high up near the lip of the Tonto Rim. More accurately, it rises from several springs trickling, gushing or merely seeping out of the ground among big pines, fallen or still stretching skyward under the Rim. We settled upon a single spring, bubbling in crystal, icy splendor, because it was the highest we could find. Above us, perhaps only a hundred more yards, the great escarpment which stretches from New Mexico halfway across Arizona cut a jagged granite and pine silhouette across the sky. This, then, we decided, must be the start of the East Verde.

Tiny spring, clear, and tasting of that clean taste and smelling of that clean smell of cold water that has boiled up from somewhere deep within the earth-perhaps from as far away as the great Coconino Plateau. From this highest point it bubbles down grassy slopes, forms its own minuscule falls, joins other such streams, passes almost invisibly through crinkly beds of watercress, picking up on its way still more rivulets from other springs, building, slowly building into a tiny stream worthy of the name.

Down through the summer home and resort area of Washington Park it travels, following a precipitous route, falling hundreds of vertical feet within a few miles. On the way south and west to the Verde it picks up traveling companions. Other creeks formed in the same way from springs rising along the Tonto Rim add to its volume Rock Creek, Pine Creek, Webber Creek, Ellison Creek, Bonita Creek-these and many other feed into the East Verde, lending stature and volume.

In winter and early spring, when all the various tributaries roar into the river, the East Verde becomes a torrent To be treated with the greatest respect. High water marks, as evidenced by driftwood and debris deposited in vegetation high on canyon walls, indicate that the river must, however briefly, briefly, be a terrifying thing to see. Deceptive it can be, too. Numerous enough to become a small legion among themselves are unwary motorists who have tried to ford the stream at various places where the river crosses the Houston Mesa Road-and found themselves stranded in midstream. One of our own party of three, eager for fishing in early March of one year, found himself awash and unable to move until a tractor pulled him out. A word of warning, then--the East Verde may seem to be a small stream as rivers go. And so it is. But it is a full-fledged river, and as such is not to be taken lightly. Be careful-enjoy yourself along the East Verde, but treat it with respect.

Between the well-developed area of Washington Park, with its lovely summer homes and its yet tiny-though not to be overlooked by fishermen-pools and riffles, and the larger expanses of water where the stream flows under the highway bridge north of Payson, are miles of trout fishing water. Note the long sentence which makes up that paragraph. It is deliberate, an attempt to compare with a paragraph the several miles of truly delightful water available and accessible to the fisherman in this stretch.

This stretch of water is available to the fishermanand to the camper and hiker and photographer and just all-round nature lover-via the Houston Mesa Road. This road, dirt, but well graded and kept in good condition, veers almost due east from the paved highway north of Payson. Just over two miles outside of town, and well marked, the road winds through pine forest and then dips down, down, ever lower toward the level of the river. Eventually it rises again, taking you to Houston Mesa, which was named after people named Houston who settled in the area. Eventually, too, it takes you to what is known as the Control Road, which in turn borders and often crosses the East Verde. Just about anywhere here

OPPOSITE PAGE "CANYON DEPTHS-EAST VERDE" BY HAL R. MOORE.

This photo was taken below Cold Spring Falls on East Verde River, looking downstream, and is just one of the scenic and photographic delights offered by the East Verde to the visitor. Minolta Autocord camera, 24x214 Ektachrome; f.18 at 1/50th sec.; Rokkor 75mm lens; bright, early September day.

FOLLOWING PAGE "TROUT POOL-EAST VERDE" BY HAL R. MOORE. This

This shows one of the inviting trout pools to be found on the East Verde River. The Arizona Game and Fish Dept. keeps the stream well-stocked with trout at all times. Minolta Autocord camera; 24x24 Ektachrome; f.14 at 1/50th sec.; Rokkor 75mm lens; June.

INSIDE BACK COVER "CASCADES ON EAST VERDE" BY HAL R. MOORE. Many

Many places on the East Verde River offer opportunities for good photographs. One must study light conditions carefully to get the best results. Several trips to the area, at different times of the year, result in better coverage of a fascinating subject. Kalimar S/L Reflex camera; Ektachrome; f.18 at 1/50th sec.; Kaligar 80mm lens; July.

BACK COVER

Photographic explanation for this photograph is given on page 27.

Here you can dip a fishing line without disturbing private property.

The country is uncertain, along various stretches of road, as to what it is supposed to be. Higher up, near the highway, it is conifer forest, surely so. As it drops to a lower elevation nearer the river bed manzanita becomes common, and prickly pear cactus is not at all rare. Then as it climbs again toward Washington Park it becomes conifer forest again, pure and green.

The water in the stream is cold enough to support trout in good health and spirits, whatever the exact elevation thereabouts. Numerous locations along Houston Mesa Road and the Control Road are heavily stocked with pan-sized trout during the fishing season. Just how many thousands of trout are stocked it is useless to say, as numbers vary from year to year with varying conditions. But huge numbers of fishermen's limits go into the stream each year, and huge numbers of limits and lesser catches come out.

Camp grounds along the Houston Mesa Road are not numerous-there are four-nor large. But they are large enough to support good numbers of cars without anyone getting in each other's way. The grounds are easy to find. Just drive the road until you see a wide, cleared area at the side of the road. Then pull off and park. The grounds are not officially listed on a map of the Tonto National Forest published by the U.S. Forest Service, but the Service and various sportsmen's organizations do what they can to keep the areas in good bod shape. Actual condi-tions of cleanliness vary with the type of people who have been there just before you arrive.

The first camp to be found along the Houston Mesa Road is just about one quarter of a mile beyond the first crossing of the river. This is on the right side of the road, will accommodate about a dozen autos without congestion. The river is close by. Other camp grounds are to be found farther up the road.

Approximately a mile to a mile and one-half up the stream from the first camp ground will be found Cold Spring Falls. The hike to these falls is not an easy one.

That is to say, it is not to be undertaken by women in high heels and skirts. Yet, it is not a hard one for people with sensible clothing and sturdy, low-heeled shoes. Simply follow the stream upcurrent.

If you do miss it, by not trying, you will be sorry. Cold Spring Falls offers one of the loveliest sights to be found along the East Verde. Twin streams of water pour straight down about twenty or twenty-five feet from the stream above to a rock ledge. There the water pools and spills again over the ledge another twenty feet or so to the canyon channel below. At the midpoint, the first ledge, a small cave is hidden behind bouncing spray from the falls above. Within it is a cool, moss-and-algae-grown grotto, seemingly as far from this world as the planet Venus. Indeed, we have christened it Venus Grotto, though probably earlier and more intrepid explorers have given it some entirely different name.

Above the falls the stream offers more hiking, more exquisite scenery, more empty, peaceful Arizona than you may ever have seen before. It is not wise to venture too far upstream, at least not in the hope of finding your way back by some short cut to the campgrounds below. The best way back is the way you came, following the stream. Above the falls the stream branches into a tributary, and from there it may branch again, and again, for all we know. One summer day we shall find out.

Meanwhile, back at the rancho we call home, Arizona seems to be filling up. The cities are getting crowded, and their limits stretch farther and farther. Surely, in another year or two, the whole state will be filled with tract homes and towering office buildings. So it seems.

But, don't you believe it. And if you have staked out, for your own, just a little chunk of the East Verde River -or any other wide-open chunk of this wonderful state -you will not believe it. You will know that there is room for all of us, and for ten times ten more that number of us. And still there will be room for long, tumbling, white and blue and green islands of peace, recreation and spiritual release such as that river of mystery, the East Verde, a modest little stream bubbling with personality.