01 - Dread Apache- That Early-Day Scourge of the Southwest by Merrill Pingree Freeman

Dive into the fierce frontier drama of the early-day Southwest, where the relentless Apache was the central antagonist. This podcast, based on a collection of historic photographs, brings to life the chilling experiences of the pioneers who contended with this tireless foe. Experience the Apaches cunning and treachery, their ambush tactics, and the fearsome reputation of the squaw - possibly even more formidable than the man. Listen as we unravel numerous captivating biographies and historic headlines that paint a vivid picture of this tumultuous era. This gripping narrative is brought to life by Laurie Banza.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:01):
Section one of The Dread Apache, That early day Scourge
of the Southwest. This is a libribox recording. All librebox
recordings are in the public domain. For more information or
to volunteer, please visit librebox dot org. Read by Lorie Banza.
The Dread Apache, That early day Scourge of the Southwest

(00:25):
by doctor Merril Pingree Freeman introduction through Paris adopts name
of Apache. A short time ago. Idling through a collection
of early day photographs, I came across too that vividly
recalled the closing scenes in that bloody frontier drama in

(00:46):
which the Apache was the chief actor for many years,
the relentless foe of the pioneer, Wary, tireless, cowardly and treacherous.
He was the very incarnation of fiendishness, if possible, more
pronounced in the squaw than in the man. Never meeting
you in the open, always in ambush, concealed behind the

(01:09):
big granite boulder, the point of a hill, or a
clump of brush, He and his fellows patiently awaited your
solitary coming, all unconscious of danger. Then the crack of
the rifle, and it is all over. Today. He might
be a sniper, but in the days of his hellish activities,

(01:30):
the word had not yet been given its more recently
enlarged meaning. Two thousand pioneers victims of Apaches. How many
breakers of the wilderness, hardy, fearless, old timers were sent
to their final rest by this early scourge of the desert.

(01:51):
Who can say? Some place their number at two thousand,
some say more, others less. This does not include the boy,
whose profession it is to risk his life, and, when
necessary is duty its sacrifice. Of the number of these
there is probably a record somewhere, but of the old pioneer,

(02:13):
only an estimate. In the valley, on the Mesa, and
the hillside, on the mountain top, and in the deep
shadows of the canyon, everywhere this broad land is dotted
with their unknown and unmarked graves. Captain John G. Bork,
author of The Border with Crook and an Apache campaign,

(02:35):
who was with General Crook, tells us that the Apache
is no coward, but that he has no false ideas
about courage, that he would prefer to skulk like a
coyote for hours and then kill his enemy, rather than,
by injudicious exposure, receive a moon. May we not attribute
to the chivalrous spirit of Captain Bork, not to criticize

(02:59):
a foe his delicate way of putting this. No, I
do not recall that this early plague of the old
Pioneer ever injudiciously exposed himself, unless driven to it, skulking
like the coyote. As Captain Bork so well expresses, it
is my conception of his bravery. If forced to the open,

(03:20):
he would undoubtedly make a brave fight. But I have
never heard of his voluntarily seeking that open, meeting his
enemy on anything approaching equal terms. Paris adopts name of Apache.
Being over in Paris. A few years ago, a friend
who had lived there a number of years, and who

(03:42):
was as familiar with Paris from basement to roof garden
as I am with Congress Street of our good old
town of Tucson, suggested one evening that we visit the Apaches.
Expressing surprise that any of my people should have wandered
so far from home, I suggested as a substitute the
Mulawn Rouge. However, the Apaches were agreed upon, and in

(04:04):
the evening my friend, bringing a policeman with him, called
for me at my hotel. Arriving at the door of
the Apache rendezvous. In due course we three, my friend,
the policeman and myself are readily admitted, the presence of
our policemen assuring that, and we find ourselves in an

(04:25):
underground dive, a large room with a low ceiling, barely furnished,
dimly lighted, and reeking with the sour odor of stale beer.
Looking about the room by the dim light as it
forces its way through the dense gloom of tobacco smoke,
we are enabled to see two other policemen besides our own.

(04:46):
There are two stationed there day and night, and a
score or more of the toughest looking lot of cut
throats I have ever had the pleasure of coming in
contact with. This was the retreat the gathering of as
bad a lot of thieves, thugs, robbers, burglars and murderers
as the world could boast of. And Paris, in seeking

(05:10):
a name for them that would embody all of these characteristics,
had searched the world over, and was almost in despair
of finding a single word that would express all that
is mean, wantingly, cruel, murderous and cowardly. But at last
attention was directed to the Apache of Arizona. And then

(05:30):
it was discovered that the word which would embody all
that and more had been found, and that was why
I was enabled to find some of my own home
people away off there in the world center of fashion,
settling for a few bottles of the vile as beer
possible to brew as a tip to the house, I

(05:51):
was soon ready to ask my friend to call us
policemen and get us away from this vile den. End
of Section one.