Before the Gadsden purchase of 1854, the region had been a relative wilderness, inhabited sparsely by tribes of Apache Indians who roamed the plains hunting Buffalo, as had their ancestors before them. The Mexicans did not settle north of the San Luis river, instead remaining on the southern edge, in the province of Nuevo Paraiso. When the Mexicans sold the land north of the river to America, the virgin prairies which occupied the area from Flat Iron Lake in West Texas to Southern California fell victim to that grandest of American schemes: Manifest Destiny.
Almost instantaneously, thousands were flocking to the newly-created Territory of New Austin, to take advantage of the Federal Government's promise of cheap, fertile land. Many of the small homesteaders, who had sold everything they owned back east in anticipation of success, returned home within a year stone broke. They found that the advertisements which had so vociferously endorsed moving to the territory had been less than truthful. In all but a few isolated pockets, the land was not suited for crop cultivation, and was favoured towards rearing cattle. Naturally, this gave the ranchers an advantage when claiming land and water rights, and for a quarter of a century, the territory of New Austin was the cattle capital of the Western Territories. There was, however, a problem. Whilst New Austin is primarily flat, although rising steeply into a plateau in the east, it is flanked to the north by steep mountains. This created a problem when trying to herd cattle out of the state, as any cowpuncher will tell of the danger of taking plains cattle over mountain paths, especially in the numbers these boys drove twice a year. The only way to transport them to the stockyards in Texas and Kansas was to ship them over Flat Iron Lake in barges.
The cattlemen decided on a site on the western edge of the lake, at the edge, and a wooden dock as hastily constructed. A saloon soon followed, as did a brothel, gunsmith, general store, another saloon until the dock settlement had become a fully-fledged town named Blackwater. By the time Lincoln took his office, Blackwater had become a roaring twenty four hour Gomorrah, where a lonely cowboy could seek solace in a shot of rot gut for two cents, and find fifteen minutes of feminine affection for a quarter.
As the Great House divided against itself, fell, and was rebuilt, the cattlemen of New Austin glanced eastwards with only a scant disinterest, before returning to their whiskey women and cattle, which they gladly sold to both Yankee and Rebel alike. With Reconstruction, however, came the railroad, a cancer which although appearing benign, grew inexorably, and brought a slow, painful death upon the cowboy's way of life.
The first place to receive the railroad in the region was, of course, Blackwater. At first, this brought only cosmetic changes to the town, the wharf rats now transferring their labour to the town's freight yard. Yet the railroad kept expanding across the territory, linking up the isolated ranches, gradually eliminating the town's reason to exist. The saloons and bordellos kept roaring, and soon, along with the gunsmith, became the only profit making business in town. Blackwater's proximity to the Mexican border and lack of law enforcement meant that it soon became infested with all manner of scum, seeking a temporary haven and stop over on the way to the border. Justice was administered arbitrarily; Duelling, knife fights and road robbery of passers-by were permitted; Stealing from fellow criminals, cheating and sneak attacks, all of which were common occurrences, merited lynching from the town's tree. Rape was punished in so much as it was a theft of services (the only women in the town being working girls) and only then if they were 'protected'.
Blackwater could have kept roaring in this manner until it finally burnt itself out, had it not been for the advancing forces of civilisation and industrialisation, marching slowly west across the Great Plains. Coal and iron ore had been discovered in New Austin, and the forested mountains, now completely devoid of stocks of fur, were ripe for exploitation. Only the reputation of Blackwater as a town to be avoided at all costs prevented any enterprising businessmen from taking advantage.
In the vicinity of Blackwater at this time, lived a gentleman named Elijah Johns, along with his extended family. The Johns clan heralded from Missouri, where they had owned a small yet successful plantation, with a few slaves as field hands. Elijah had risen to the position of Patriarch of the family as the Abolition crisis began to spiral out of control. Johns was a man of strong opinions; as a State Senator, he argued throughout the Bleeding Kansas period the importance of Slavery as a cornerstone of the American way of life, whilst stressing the importance of Federal Unionism and decrying the Secessionist movement as 'seditious'.
When the eleven states seceded and the war between the two Americas broke out, Johns's county was occupied by CSA troops. He quickly reversed his opinions and became one of Missouri's strongest supporters of secession. Johns (admittedly at great personal risk) provided food and shelter to Confederate soldiers and guerrillas. He gained the CSA's trust enough to be asked to hide a large cache of gold stolen from Yankee reserves. When the tide turned, and the Union regained a foothold in the area, Johns emerged as a true-blue Yankee patriot, emancipating his slaves and betraying Confederate supporters in the area. He also made a token gesture of returning less than half of the gold he had been trusted with to the local Union commander.
Sensing that he had made one too many enemies in the state of Missouri, Elijah Johns quickly sold up and placed his family on the long wagon train across the plains, eventually settling on a large area of land on the outskirts of Blackwater. With the encroachment of the railroad, Johns sensed an even greater opportunity. With the remaining Confederate gold, Johns purchased shares in the fledgling South-Western Railroad Company. Through a combination of shrewd business dealings, skulduggery and outright violence, Johns took control of the company and extended the lines across all of New Austin, connecting Texas to the Pacific coast and finally removing the 'Native Problem' from the area. The discovery of mineral resources in New Austin, however, beckoned for higher profits. Being an enterprising businessman, Johns, now joined by his two sons Elijah Junior and Nathaniel, and his nephew Elijah Hutton, had little trouble in solving the 'Blackwater Problem'.
May 22, 1881. Most casual observers of Western Folklore are familiar with the date of the Battle of Blackwater. The story, according to commonly held opinion, is fairly simple. The town's criminal population apparently turn on each other in an orgy of wanton violence, leaving over a hundred dead. The survivors are quickly defeated and rounded up by a posse of lay lawmen, tired with the rule of bandits and gangsters in their territory. It is led by the newly-elected Sheriff of Blackwater, Nathaniel Johns and his deputies Elijah Hutton, Ranch heir Michael Darrow, and lawyers Patrick Roark and Ezra Starling. The apprehended culprits are tried by Judge Enoch Greenup and a jury of upstanding citizens, and sentenced to death for murder and breaching the peace, sentences carried out promptly. This is lauded in Newspapers across America as an example of American law, order and justice winning over the savage excesses of the untamed frontier, and establishes Blackwater as a bastion of civilisation in the 'Wild' West.
The reality of the situation, known only to few is far less glamorous. Hutton, with a bankroll from his uncle, hired a crew of ex-soldiers, Pinkerton men and a few bounty hunters, the same people who had assisted in sorting out the 'Native Problem', to clear the filth from Blackwater's streets
They rode into town quietly, and went from door to door along the town's Main street, from beer joint to gin mill, cat house to crib, card room to dice pit, dragging out any and all who appeared unsavoury. They lined them up in the street and shot them, one by one, but leaving every fourth man alive. When they had done, they herded those who could still walk into the town's square, under the lynching tree, where the Sheriff and his deputies took charge of the situation. They fired into the crowd indiscriminately, before arresting the survivors. The town's two largest saloons were converted into a jail-cum-courthouse, where Enoch Greenup assembled a jury from the men who had begun the day's shooting. The defendants were asked their names and ages, before being found guilty and having sentenced of death passed. They were hanged in batches of five the same day.
When told this, I was incredulous. How could they keep that covered up? Why had the truth not been revealed? My storyteller proceeded to lift his huge Canuck head above his shoulders and let out a deep laugh, giving a full view of his toothless mouth. Claude LaRoux was a huge trapper from the St. John's Valley, who had moved to New Austin in search of fresh sources of Beaver. With the profits he'd made, he founded a store in Blackwater catering to hunters and outdoorsmen, and was on the verge of selling up before the massacre. His store was on Main Street, between two saloons and adjacent to the town square, so he saw everything. He related the tale of what he had seen stood in the doorway of his shop, as we sat on a hill overlooking Santiago harbour. I'd positioned myself so his bulk shielded me from the harsh Cuban sun.
"Why would anyone want to know the truth?" he said incredulously in his thick Acadian accent, fixing me with a hard stare "The truth is not important. It is too painful for people to bear. That those with power would abuse it, would break the law to make a favourable outcome, that is something people do not want to know. They would rather savour the victory they believe they achieved, in the hope that it makes things better for the future"
His accent took a few second to decipher, but even then I didn't understand. I believed in the rule of law, that those who made the law and held power did so for honest reasons and would uphold it. I believed that all people had an innate desire to know the truth, that they wouldn't blindly believe a lie, even if it was better than the truth. But I was still young and idealistic back then. Obviously my feelings of disbelief registered on my face, as LaRoux again tilted his head back and gave another dark laugh. He clapped me on the back and stood up. "Come on" he said, not unkindly "Let's see if this petit-ville has a bar. I'm gonna buy you a drink"
One way or another, the massacre proved to be a blessing for New Austin's economy. The presence of law and order in the territory assuaged the fears of the pioneer industrialists. They flocked to the hills and began digging for coal and ore. The ramshackle buildings of Blackwater were cleared away, and the town was rebuilt in brick, with paved streets. Two factories were created and the docks and freight yards reopened. All of this took place under the helm of Elijah Hutton, Elijah Johns having left this mortal life after a violent bout of apoplexy.
As ranchers, and then railroad men serving ranchers, the Johns family had held strong Democratic sympathies. With their new status as pioneers of industry, they swapped allegiances to the Republican party, with Elijah Johns opening and becoming chairman of their New Austin Chapter. The local businessmen flocked to join, standing as city Aldermen, and when New Austin was finally granted statehood in '85, as State Senators. The mining bosses, industrialists and lumbermen all invested their money in the Blackwater bank, which funded the city's expansion, and made large donations to public charities, building parks, libraries and a theatre, all of which were opened by the 'Heroes' of the Blackwater massacre, and bore large inscriptions detailing the money provided by the Republican party.
The power in Blackwater was structured as a pyramid. At the bottom were the industrialists and businessmen, who made up the core of the Republican party. Chief amongst them were Elijah Johns junior, heir apparent at South Western Railroad, mining boss Stanley Brigham and industrialist Jeremiah Palmer. Above them were the politicians, whom they supported financially, in return for favours and protection. These included Senator Michael Darrow, Congressmen Patrick Roark and Ezra Starling, Chief Justice Enoch Greenup, and State Governor Nathaniel Johns. Each of these had been elected to their post in '85 on the back of their fame from the Massacre, and had used this to secure re-election for over thirty years. At the top stood Elijah Hutton. Although content to, on the surface, hold only a minor position as Chairman of the GOP and Treasurer of Blackwater council, Hutton held true power in the state. He made and broke men's careers, appointed people to office and subtly influenced policy, both at State and National levels, whilst appearing as purely a background figure. Hutton was the true driving force behind the Blackwater Cabal.
The whores and gamblers still existed in Blackwater, and business was still thriving. Whereas they had openly touted for business before the massacre, they were now consigned to 'Grit Row' the city's red light district on the waterfront, and had to pay a 'tax' to the city treasurer in return for protection from the police and the growing temperance and morality movement in the city. These, in turn, were kept at bay by the best efforts of the Republican party to close down the city's brothels and gambling dens, slowly but surely, one at a time. Such are the benefits of civilisation