Cooley: His Life and Times

HIS NAME SHOULD BE HIGH ON ANY LIST OF ARIZONA'S MOST PROMINENT FOREFATHERS. Corydon E.

Trailblazer pacifier of the fierce Apaches first citizen of the White Mountain country founder of towns and ranches... trusted friend of fabled Gen. George Crook fearless lawman. He was all these and more.

But, ironically, Corydon Eliphalet Cooley is best remembered for playing the low card in an 1876 game of seven-up.

Cooley and his partner, Marion Clark, owned a ranch some 30 miles north of Camp Apache in the beautifully timbered high country of eastern Arizona. When they decided to split up, they agreed - according to a cherished Arizona legend that the winner of that game would become the sole owner of the ranch.

COOLEY

In the final hand, Clark told Cooley, "Show low and take the ranch!" Cooley then played the low card and won the game. His ranch, and later the town that grew up there, thus became known as "Show Low,"

Although there is no record of which card Cooley played, Show Low citizens named their main street "Deuce of Clubs," and so it remains today.

Born April 2, 1836, in Loudoun County, Virginia, Corydon Eliphalet Cooley (most people called him "C.E." or "Cooley") ventured out to the untamed New Mexico Territory as a youth to seek his fortune. When the Civil War erupted, he

A PIONEER LIFE ON THE EDGE

served as a first lieutenant in the New Mexico Volunteers of the Union Army under the legendary Kit Carson.

"We were trying to stop the rebs, most of them Texans, who were about to take over New Mexico and Arizona for the Confederacy," Cooley later told an interviewer. "We were attacking the Texans just below Fort Craig [on the Rio Grande] when they opened fire and a bullet just clipped the end of my nose!"

That skirmish, on February 16, 1862, was the only Civil War action in which Cooley had so close a brush with death, although he was in combat at Valverde and in other clashes.

After the end of hostilities, he served (in June, 1865) as a delegate from San Miguel County to a Union Party convention in Santa Fe. He prospected for a time, operated a small hotel near Fort Craig, and served as a guide for the Army.

But these peacetime pursuits soon palled on the restless Virginian, who hungered mightily for adventure. And so it was that the mysterious and barely explored lands ruled by the warring Apaches in eastern Arizona Territory enticed him with a lure he could not resist.

One of his biographers, Col. H.B. Wharfield, relates in his monograph Corydon Eliphalet Cooley how Cooley made his first venture into Arizona. It was in 1869 that he and his good friend Henry Dodd, escorted by some pacified Apaches, braved death at the hands of hostile Indians to press into the new Arizona Territory in search of gold. They made their way safely through rugged country to Camp McDowell on the Verde River and spent some time in the Salt River Valley with Jack Swilling on his ranch near the future site of Phoenix.

Unable to find gold, he returned to Camp McDowell and offered his services in locating a new cavalry post deep in Apache country to the northeast. The post, first named Camp Ord and then Camp (later Fort) Apache, was established in cool wood-ed terrain at the forks of the White River. Cooley was enthralled by the verdant White Mountain country, of which he wrote, “It has beautiful streams and a finer variety of timber than I have ever seen in any part of the West. We found plenty of corn here [grown by the Indians] and en-joyed the roasting ears muchly.” Cooley tried his hand at farming near the fort, supplying the Army with hay, corn, and beef. It was there in 1870 that he came to know venerable Chief Pedro, whose White Mountain Apaches had made peace with the white man and lived near the cavalry post. That was a major milestone in the life of the young adventurer. Cooley soon came to respect the White Mountain Apache people, learn their lan-guage, and adopt many of their customs. Forsaking his earlier life-style, he became almost as much Indian as white. In 1871 he married one of Chief Pedro's daughters and gave her the Anglicized name of Molly. As was the Apache custom, her sister joined the newlyweds, and not long thereafter Cooley also married Cora, as he renamed her. Molly and Cora were not only Apache “princesses,” but also cousins of the storied Apache scout Alchesay, later to become a Congressional Medal of Honor winner. (See Arizona Highways, Nov. '92.) Alchesay's heroism in warfare against the Tonto Apaches in 1872-73 and Geronimo's war-riors in 1886 earned him a place of high honor in Arizona history. Alchesay High School at the Fort Apache agency is named for him. Cooley's wives were women of excep-tional intelligence, as well as excellent cooks and housekeepers. Molly was often called on by both white and Apache wom-en to serve as a midwife, and she was cred-ited with saving the lives of several patients in difficult deliveries. One of those women was Mrs. David Adams, whose Mormon husband had re-cently quarreled with Cooley over land rights. Adams had appealed to Brigham Young, who wrote Cooley a blistering letter declaring that “Our people are colonizing Arizona; if you treat them right you will be blessed if you do not, you will become a pauper and die a miserable death.” Molly ignored that intemperate blast and cared for Adams' wife as lovingly as any ALWAYS HUNGRY FOR ADVENTURE AND DANGER, COOLEY GLADLY ACCEPTED APPOINTMENT IN 1877 AS DEPUTY U.S. MARSHAL FOR HUGE YAVAPAI COUNTY, FROM WHICH APACHE AND NAVAJO COUNTIES WERE LATER CARVED. HE RANGED FAR AND WIDE IN HIS NEW JOB, RISKING HIS LIFE MORE THAN ONCE TO BRING IN OUTLAWS WHO HAD FLOCKED TO WILD ARIZONA.

other patient. Adams gratefully acknowlEdged that his wife would have died in childbirth without Molly's help. Martha Summerhayes, the Army wife whose 1875 visit to the Cooley ranch is related in her classic book, Vanished Arizona, described Cooley's young wives as “both tidy and good-looking, and they pre-extraordinary character,” he wrote, “eager to advance, and to have her children re-ceive the benefits of education.” Cora died in childbirth in November, 1876, but Molly outlived her husband, loved to the last by all who knew her.

It was in 1872 that Cooley and Marion Clark had become partners in their ranch on the present site of Show Low. Chief Pedro had loved this spot and often made summer camp there. Cooley and Clark, with hired help providing most of the labor, made the ranch a veritable garden with apple, cherry, and peach orchards, extensive vegetable fields, and carefully tended pastures for cattle. Captain Bourke later wrote these glowing words about it: “The ranch is on a series of gentle hills and dales, the hills carpeted with juicy black grass and spangled with flowers growing at the feet of graceful pines and majestic oaks. In the center of a beautiful park stood the frame house and outbuildings A sawmill was operating on the property. Cooley is provided with every creature comfort.” Cooley's close relationship with the Apaches and his mastery of their language made him a natural choice of future Gen. (then Lt. Col.) George Crook to organize the Fort Apache company of Apache scouts. Only Apaches, Crook reasoned, were clever enough to track down other Apaches, and he used his scouts to great advantage in making Arizona Territory safe for white settlement. Crook, honored in Arizona history as “the greatest Indian fighter of them all,” was a friend of the peaceful Apaches but a relentless foe of those renegades who continued to raid, steal, burn, and murder. Cooley shared Crook's feelings. On one memorable occasion, he took special plea-sure in leading his scouts on a foray to avenge the torture and murder of a young Scot named George Taylor. Renegade Tonto Apaches had stripped Taylor, shot him full of arrows, and then, with agonizing slowness, cut off one part of his body after another until he died. Cooley's scouts tracked down the murderers and killed most of them. During Crook's historic 1872-73 cam-paign against the hostiles, Cooley rode and fought at the side of his Apache scouts. At its close, after the grateful War Department had promoted Crook to brigadier general, no fewer than four members of the Camp Apache scouts including Alchesay were awarded the Medal of Honor. Cooley risked his life on countless oc-casions during those harrowing months, but emerged from his wilderness forays unscathed. Strangely enough he came clos-

C O O L E Y

est to death a short time later, not far out-side the Camp Apache stockade. The incident was reported in the Tucson Citizen of January 17, 1874: "Upon seeing them approach, Charley snapped a revolver at Mr. Cooley, but before he could pull the trigger again, he was shot through the heart by Patone."

Crook's soldiers so harassed and starved the Apache rebels during the campaign that most of them (with the notable exception of Cochise's Chiricahua Apaches) surrendered and settled on the reservations. Colonel Wharfield's monograph on Cooley quotes Chief Cha-Lupin of the Mohave Apaches, who told Crook, "You see we're nearly dead from want of food and exposure. The copper cartridge has done the business for us. I surrender, not because I love you, but because I am afraid of the General."

Cooley, who relished the excitement of campaigning and never cared much for the dull grind of ranching, was only too happy to answer Crook's call to Army service. His lack of devotion to ranch work probably was among the reasons his partner, Clark, was eager to break away and acquire his own ranch in 1876.

Always hungry for adventure and danger, Cooley gladly accepted appointment in 1877 as deputy U.S. marshal for huge Yavapai County, from which Apache and Navajo counties were later carved. He ranged far and wide in his new job, risking his life more than once to bring in outlaws who had flocked to wild Arizona Territory.

In one especially notable raid, he captured and jailed two desperadoes who were threatening to take over the new settlement of Springerville. Scarcely had he left the town, however, when a lynch mob stormed the jail, and in the words of Cooley's report to Gov. John Hoyt, "disposed of [the prisoners] according to frontier law."

Cooley's public service in several other areas brought long-lasting good to the people of the young territory.

In 1872 he and his friend Henry Dodd were directed by the Army to locate and place markers on what became known as Crook's Trail, leading westward toward Camp Verde and Fort Whipple (Prescott). First the Army and then waves of pioneer settlers entered central Arizona over that fa-mous road. (See Arizona Highways, July '82.) In 1878 Cooley was appointed collector of taxes and deputy assessor for the Little Colorado section of Yavapai County. When Apache County was created in 1879, Cooley was elected one of its first three county supervisors.

And in 1880, he was successful in obtaining a post office for Show Low and was appointed the town's first postmaster.

His service in all these offices made important contributions to the civilizing of the vast White Mountain wilderness. But none of these labors was more important than the aid he and Molly rendered to travelers over the rugged trails in that part of Arizona Territory. Many of the historic personages of that frontier era inscribed their names in his guest book after resting under his roof.

"There is no more splendid host than Cooley," wrote Gov. Nathan O. Murphy in 1901.

"It is now 46 years since we first met at Santa Fe," recalled pioneer Arizona journalist A.F. Banta in 1912.

"I had my first contact with you in 1872," wrote Brig. Gen. Earl D. Thomas, one of many old Army comrades who stopped by to pay their respects.

A mouth-watering meal, a good bed, and a barrage of C.E. Cooley's stories of the Old West awaited any sojourner who passed his way.

Cooley's generous opinion of the Apaches was not widely shared in early Arizona. Tucson Citizen Editor John Wasson blasted him in a fiery 1872 editorial expressing a contrary view of "the red devils," as they were commonly called: "Whitman [an Apache advocate] has been reinforced in the lying business by one Cooley at Camp Apache. With Apache murders at Bowie, Wickenburg, Verde and other places, they continue to report the falsehoods that the Apaches are peaceable. How these wretches must detest the truth!"

Cooley certainly did not subscribe to the prevalent notion that "the only good Indian is a dead Indian." But he was not an indiscriminate "Apache lover," either. Much as he appreciated the intelligence and honor of those he knew best, he was a fierce enemy of those renegade Apaches who tortured and murdered without conscience.

In 1882, when General Crook was called back to Arizona to complete the Indian pacification that he had started a decade before, he again called on his friend Cooley to serve as a scout and interpreter.

Cooley, who could never say "no" to Crook, moved his family to Fort Apache and reported for duty.

Historian Will Barnes, in Apaches and Longhorns, related the drama that unfolded a short time later when rebellious Apache chiefs challenged Crook to meet with them in council - unaccompanied by his troops. Ignoring his aides' pleas not to fall into this "Apache trap," Crook rode out into the forbidding mountains with only Cooley and three other companions.

"Few expected to see them alive again," wrote Barnes. "Cooley... confided in me that he was scared stiff and had made out his will before he left. But three days later the 'Old Gray Fox' [Crook] and his party rode back calmly to the post."

More than a hundred Apaches came in and surrendered during the next few days, and the Indian threat in that part of Arizona Territory was soon at an end.

Cooley never faced sudden death again in his declining years. He sold his interest in the Show Low ranch in 1886 and built what was then considered a palatial home in the forest on the Apache reservation, some 20 miles to the southeast. There he hosted distinguished guests, relished his unofficial title of "Colonel" (a rank be-stowed on many pioneers by their admirers in that era), and enjoyed the peace and safety he had so long denied himself.

The community that grew up near his compound was for a time called Cooley, but its name was changed in 1924 to McNary in honor of a lumber baron. (See Arizona Highways, Aug. '90.) The venerable Cooley's hair turned gray, and his lithe body put on considerable poundage, but he remained in fairly good health until he was paralyzed by a stroke in 1911. On March 18, 1917, two weeks before his 81st birthday, he died. His body was given an Army escort to Fort Apache, where he was buried with full military honors.

Sharlot Hall, the illustrious poet and Arizona historian, had saluted C.E. Cooley in 1910 with these words: Alas! The good old days are gone, The good old-timers few. Yet while there's a corporal's guard To drink the mountain dew, Fill up the glasses to the brim, Stand up and toast him duly. The bravest pioneer and scout, Here's to you, Colonel Cooley!