profile

As deep impressions in the hard-baked soil of the valley.

Swilling returned to these irrigation canals again and again until one day he realized they could be utilized by contemporary farmers. Shortly thereafter he and several partners began rebuilding the system to bring Salt River water to valley soil. Later, filled with success, Swilling and his partners extended the system and more acreage fell under the plow, eventually pushing the community into the Territorial limelight as a farming center.

Reconstructing Hohokam canals, as Swilling and his partners had, was not, however, a unique occupation. A year earlier, the Army at Fort McDowell irrigated an experimental farm using a reconstructed Hohokam canal. Later four officers from the fort staked out a water claim on the Salt River and incorporated a prospective business to reactivate another Hohokam canal structure not far from present-day Scottsdale.

By January 1, 1868, Swilling's home area where up to 50 additional pioneer farmers had moved by this time was known as Pumpkinville. The name seemed to suit the tiny community. Pumpkins, which Swilling had planted along his canals, were ripening all over the landscape. Officially, however, in March or April of that year, Swilling and fellow pioneer Darrel Duppa renamed the settlement Phoenix.

Site selection could not have been better for the soon-to-burgeon town. Unlike such communities as Wickenburg and Prescott, Phoenix was virtually free of attacks by Yavapai and Apache Indians. This was not due to the military presence at Fort McDowell but simply to the fact that the lower Salt River Valley was the territory of the Pimas, the traditional enemy of the Yavapais and Apaches. Fear of the Pimas was said to be so great that when the Apaches planned raids on Prescott or Wickenburg, They went miles out of their way to avoid the Phoenix area.

Indian complications arose, nevertheless over water.

It started when Anglo settlers homesteading land along the Gila River east of the Pima reserve diverted precious water for their farms, leaving the Pimas high and dry. Disputes broke out, and eventually the frustrated Indians took action: They moved onto and camped on the settlers' fields.

When this maneuver failed to bring about needed change, the angry Pimas began riding their horses through the newly plowed fields. The settlers retaliated by shooting the horses out from under the Indians. Some even tried to shoot the Indians, but poor marksmanship prevented open war.

Helpless to settle the problem, Swilling called upon the military at Fort McDowell, and a meeting was arranged at Swilling's house between the post commander, Capt. George B. Sanford, the Indian agent, and several Phoenix residents.

Sanford later wrote, "After hearing in detail the statements of the citizens, I strongly represented to them the necessity of observing extreme caution and moderation in their dealings with the Indians, showing them the terrible situation in which they would place themselves by precipitating an outbreak."

Sanford concluded that they should leave the problem to the government that was making "every exertion to put an end to the trouble without resorting to unnecessary violence."

The water problem, of course, had no immediate solution, and the conflict between

FATHER OF PHOENIX

the Pimas and Anglos near the Pima reserva-tion ran hot and cold for a decade. Ultimately, serious violence was prevented by the Army's continued alertness and Swilling's leadership in the community. However, as time wore slowly on, and the area continued to attract new settlers, Swilling's once strong influence began to dwindle, striking a low about 1870 when property owners clamored for a central town area, which Swilling considered his settlement should be. But because of the numerous Hohokam ruins in his area (now the site of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport), his recommendation was rejected, and a new site to the west was selected. Soon the new town was surveyed and named Phoenix ignoring the fact that Swilling's settlement carried the same name. Within a short time lots were up for sale.

Phoenix II continued to gain in population and political in-fluence, and in 1871 it became the county seat of the new Maricopa County, something Swilling strongly opposed. He'd even hired people to stuff ballot boxes in favor of Milltown, a store, restaurant, bar, post office, and flour mill across the road from his settlement. Nevertheless, this tactic failed: The opposition also had been stuffing ballot boxes. Within a few months after the election, Swilling put his farm up for sale and began looking for new irrigating ventures on the upper Gila River and on the Salt east of Phoenix. When these failed, he moved north to Black Canyon and the Agua Fria River in 1873, where he prospected and in a short time found gold and silver.

A mine called Tip Top was soon developed and a mill constructed on the river, around which grew the town of Gillette. No sooner had Swilling settled in at his new home, though, than he found himself facing a stagecoach robbery charge. In one of Gillette's many saloons one day early in 1878, Swilling, who had just returned from a trip with a friend, cracked a joke that he would have to rob a stage to get some ready cash. The innocent remark came to the attention of a Wells Fargo detective in town who, incredibly, was there to arrest the culprits who had recently robbed a Wells Fargo express and the U.S. Mail. Swilling knew nothing of the robbery because it had occurred while he was out of town. Suspicion fell hard on him anyway because he was known to have had little money when he left, but he was flush with $20 gold pieces when he returned. The evidence was circumstantial, but Swilling and his traveling companion were charged with robbery and carted off to Prescott in Yavapai County. The judge, however, ruled that the evidence was insufficient for a trial, and Swilling and his friend went free. Then someone discovered a complication: The robbery had occurred in Maricopa County not Yavapai County, so both men were rearrested and taken to the Yuma County jail to await the decision of a grand jury and trial on Territorial charges of robbery. Heightening the mental devastation Swilling must have felt, jail officials would not allow him to have his morphine med-ication. With the heat of midsummer and the agony of withdrawal, Swilling suffered severely, as was reflected in a letter he wrote in which he declared his innocence and the certainty of his death in prison: "This cruel charge has brought me for the first time in my life under a jailer's key. The reason I write this is because I may be found dead any morning in my cell. And may God help my poor family through this cold world, is my prayer."

As he predicted, on August 12, 1878, Swilling was found dead of natural causes in his Yuma jail cell.

Jack's Midas touch had indeed turned to brass.

Afterword: The men who actually robbed the Wells Fargo stage later confessed to their crime, and Swilling's companion was released from prison.

Later still, Swilling's friends in Phoenix took up a collection to help his family.