The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1897-08-05
HOW DAVY CROCKETT DIED,
NOT Davy OF the Alamo, but His Nephew,
at Ci,narron. N. NJ


at Ci,narron, N. M.
1T was in the summer. Of 1877
that | first visited New Me-ico to
inspect the Moreno mine in the in.
terest of a syndicate of New York
capitalists, said G. j. Hixon. q
mine expert and mineralogist.
Awaiting the arrival of certain
parties | was to meet, l staid at
Clmarron, at the famous Lambert s
hotel. don't know whether it is
now IN existence or not, but then,
considering it's environment, it was,
so far as beds and the table went, a
remarkably good house to step at.
But there were other features about
it that were rather startling to a
man of quiet tastes. The landlord,
with something of pride, pointed out
the bullet holes that riddled the
walls and ceiling of his barroom
and informed me that 25 men had
been killed in that room--seven in
a single year. He told me of some
of the orgies enacted there when the
cowboys came in from the round up
with realism that made me glad
that had arrived at a time when
they were expected to be out on the
range. / exhausted the sights of
the town-a little half American,
half Mexican settlement built along
the Cimarron river-in one brief
stroll and spent the restof the first
day there with novel in the bar
room, which was also the hotel
office.
1.-TWO COW men rode into town
early in the day and, in company
with one or two of the townsmen,
paid pretty constant attention to
Lambert's bar. My host took occa-
sion to point out one of them and
tell me in a whisper that no was
Davy Crockett, who had come to
New Mexico from Texas. He was a
nephew of the Davy celebrated in
song and story who ended his days
in the massacre at the Alamo.
He did most of the business
when the three negro soldiers were
shot in this town last year, said
Lambert. He and Jim Lanier, the
man that's with him, had to go out
and live with the Utes and Apaches
until the affair blew over. No, they
never were brought to trial;
couldn't get grand jury in Colfax
county to indict them. The sheriff
holds warrants against them, but it
would be as much as his life is
worth to try to arrest them. You
can see how nice and peaceable they
are when nothing comes up to irri-
tate them
II looked with interest at Crock
EFT, a little, wiry fellow with thin
Tipped, determined mouth and
keen, unquailing eye, but in no way
unpleasant of expression or manner.
He and his companion were typical
cowboys in dress. They drank
steadily and quietly all day, the
only effect of the liquor they took
being to make them by degrees a
little more jocular and laxative.
From time to time the name of
Reinhart, the sheriff, came up, and
could see that there was no good
feeling between them and him.
Evening came, and at about 10
o'clock l went up stairs to my room,
leaving the two COW men and their
friends still drinking at the bar. 1
did not go at once to bed, but sat by
my window enjoying the beauty of
the night, with its soft, cool air,
clear sky and brilliant stars. had
begun to undress when the two cow
men came out from the tavern and
their horses. Iheard them
tell some one that they were going
out to their camp on the mesa to
start on a cow hunt next day. Each
had little harmonicon-mouth orr
gan, it is often called-and they rode
down the main street of Cimarron
side by side, playing in unison a
sentimental tune which was pleas
ant to hear.
" ] had turned from the window,
when bang, bang, bang-bang, bang
bang, bang-bang, came the sound
of a volley of shotguns from some
where down the road, then o cry
and a rush of horses feet. Two
horses were dashing out of town
like runaways. On one was a sway
ing man, who still kept in his sad
de; the other was riderless, as I
learned afterward. Davy Crockett
Iay dead in the road, shot full of
slugs and buckshot. A party, evil
IDENTIFY learning the route the two
cow men would take, had lain for
them in ambush behind a fence.
Crockett fell dead to the ground
with the sound of the volley, but
I y y