Wild West Land Blog

The tale of Commodore Perry Owens, Apache County (and later Navajo County) Sheriff, as told by the 50s era Collins Bumper Cowboy Book of Thrilling Western Stories. A more factual re-telling of the Blevins Gang incident will follow:

In the long and honourable list of the law enforcement officers who helped to tame the old wild west, there are many names that are better known than that of Commodore Perry Owens, but it is doubtful if even such men as Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterton, or Wild Bill Hickock were braver men than the strangely named sheriff of Apache County, Arizona. It is also doubtful if any of the more celebrated sheriffs and marshals ever achieved anything like the single-handed exploit that Owens pulled off one September day in 1887.

Commodore Perry Owens - Commodore was his real name and not a title or nickname - had been a cowboy and an lndian Fighter and when, in 1887, the more sober citizens of North Arizona were searching around for someone to take on the formidable task of cleaning up that part of the state, they decided that Owens was the man for the job. At first sight, he hardly appeared a proper type for such a task. He had a smooth, handsome, boyish face with a fine, silky moustache. His voice was soft and his manner inoffensive. His long hair hung down almost to his waist. He was not particularly tall and he was slimly built. In appearance he was so far from the rootin’-tootin’ kind of officer that most people reckoned he could not be a good 1aw man at all. Then one morning on September 4th, 1887, Sheriff Owens rode into the tough town of Holbrook. Ironically enough, in view of what we to happen that afternoon, he we merely carrying out routine official duties connected with the summoning of jurymen.

All thought of routine duties vanished, however, when Owens was informed that Andy Cooper had also ridden into town that morning. Cooper was a bad man of the worst type, brutal, boastful and fast with a gun. He had already several killings to his discredit, but what interested Owens more was the fact that a warrant had previously been issued for Cooper’s arrest on a rustling charge. So far, no one had been found who had enough courage to serve this warrant but Owens decided to change all that. He found out where Cooper was staying and set off, alone, to arrest him.

Now had Cooper been alone as well, the job would have been dangerous enough. But Cooper had company.  With him, in his mother’s house, were his half-brother, John Blevins, and Mose Roberts, both of whom were almost as bad as their leader.  In addition, there was another half-brother called Sam Houston Blevins who, although only sixteen, was already following in the crooked family footsteps. All of them were at home when Sheriff Owens walked up the path and knocked on the door. Andy Cooper opened the door with his left hand, his right being occupied with a six-shooter. At the same time, a door in the side of the house opened and John Blevins, also armed, with a gun in his hand, peered out. Owens was between two fires but he gave no sign of anxiety.

“Cooper,” he announced. “I want you.”

The rustler tried to stall but Owens was standing for no nonsense. Then finally the rustler went for his guns. Two shots rang out simultaneously. Cooper missed, but Owens, firing a Winchester from the hip, shot the rustler through the body. As Cooper staggered off, mortally wounded, Owens whirled round and shot John Blevins in the shoulder. He then backed away from the house and awaited further developments. He had not long to wait. Mose Roberts came leaping out of a window, gun in hand, ready to carry on the debate with hot lead. Owens moved slightly, taking advantage of the cover offered by a cart, then once again he cut loose with his deadly Winchester, the gun which, according to the Westerners, “fired all week, including Sundays without reloading.” Mose Roberts staggered, dropped his revolver, and went lurching away round behind the house.

Meanwhile, inside the house, the sixteen-year-old Sam Houston Blevins had gone berserk. As Owens took toll of his friends, one after the other, the boy ran around pleading for someone to let him have a gun. The wounded John, realising no doubt that they were up against something special in Commodore Perry Owens, refused to let his brother have his gun. Cooper, who was dying, was less capable of refusing, so the young man seized Cooper’s gun and went rushing out to do battle. As he was in the act of firing it, another bullet from the lawman’s Winchester took him through the heart and sent him sprawling face down in the dirt. The battle was over. One man was killed outright, two were mortally wounded, and one, the lucky one, had a bullet in his shoulder. The time taken, from the first shot by Cooper until the final deadly shot by Commodore Perry Owens was about one minute.

Commodore Perry Owens died in 1919 at the age of 66. He had had a long life filled with violent action and adventure. When he looked back on it, it is possible that the time he recalled most clearly was not a day here or a week there but a certain period of sixty seconds, one September afternoon, in the cattle town of Holbrook, Arizona.

THE END

Do you think Sheriff Owens’ actions were justified? That’s a question to be discussed in the follow up post to come. Plus I have photos of the Blevins House as it looks today in modern day Holbrook and the county courthouse building which houses a great frontier history museum.

I came across some old holiday photos tonight of a trip to a real classic style theme park called Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight, a small island just off the south coast of England.

“Frontier land is a full sized cowboy town in wild west setting”

A wild west setting, if you can see past the British climate, flora and fauna and proximity to chalk cliffs that are occasionally sliding into the sea!

Here are a couple of photos of the cowboy town - first off a small scale western railroad engine with gunfighter mannequin in the background:

Next a shot of the ‘Last Chance Saloon’ painted in gaudy colours and complete with rooms available at an hourly rate.

It’s well worth a visit if you’re staying on the island, the chine itself may have been swallowed up by the encroaching sea but wild west fans can tour a tiny (and child friendly) frontier settlement without having to take a plane all the way to the US.

A little song about the demise of the cowboy, just before the fun of July 4th.

Through the progress of the railroad our occupation’s gone;
So we put ideas into words, our words into a song.
First comes the cowboy; he is pointed for the west;
Of all the pioneers I claim the cowboys are the best;
You will miss him on the round-up; it’s gone, his merry shout, -
The cowboy has left the country and the camp-fire has gone out.

There is the freighters, our companions; you’ve got to leave this land;
Can’t drag your loads for nothing through the gumbo and the sand.
The railroads are bound to beat you when you do your level best;
So give it up to the grangers and strike out for the west.
Bid them all adieu and give the merry shout -
The cowboy has left the country, and the camp-fire has gone out.

When I think of those good old days, my eyes with tears do fill;
When I think of the tin can by the fire and coyote on the hill.
I’ll tell you boys, in those days old-timers stood a show, -
Our pockets full of money, not a sorrow did we know.
But things have changed now; we are poorly clothed and fed.
Our wagons are all broken and our ponies ‘most all dead.
Soon we will leave this country; you’ll hear the angels shout,
“Oh, here they come to Heaven, the camp-fire has gone out.”

Traditional, from Songs of the Cowboys, 1921

It’s possible that the words were written by Ben Arnold Connor, an old-time frontiersman and cowboy. He took credit for the song in his autobiography, Rekindling Campfires.

Yvonne Hollenbeck has written about this song - Ben Arnold Connor was her great grandfather. She comments here in her My Home on the Prairie column, and includes her grandmother’s comment on the poem and how it became a song.

Here’s another recent online auction find - a pin-up style cowgirl strutting through the cactusland in some fancy cowboy boots. Not sure about the accuracy of the lasso thrower off to the right of the picture.

The playing card is signed but my eyesight means I can’t make out the name. It’s in the general pinup style of the 1940/50s era and another good add to my cowgirl art collection.

Browsing eBay I also spotted this lovely calendar sample print of 1951 vintage titled “The Round-Up” by Art Frahm.

Grapefruit Moon Gallery, which specialises in vintage pulp and pin-up themed collectables, is selling a batch and I’m tempted to bid for this nostalgic artwork featuring two boys in costume rounding up the neighborhood policeman.

Thanks to Gapminder data you can now watch the real-time settlement of the US from the era of the founding fathers in Virginia through to the western states in the 18th century and beyond.

Visit the link for the data on ‘US farm land (acreage per person)’ and then hit the play button bottom left of the Flash style interface.

The chart will then whiz you from 1610 through to the present day with colourful dots appearing as and when records of farms began to be stored I’m guessing.

A great way to visualize the settlement of the US as westward expansion took hold:

I’ve always loved old pinball and arcade style machines - how about this classic wild west design pinball machine for your games room? Oddly built before the days of flippers. Bid now!