Forty years at El Paso, 1858-1898; recollections of war, politics, adventure, events, narratives, sketches, etc., by W. W. Mills. Page: 12 of 163
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The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
FORTY YEARS AT EL PASO.
Sometimes, when the spring floods came, it was impossible
for any one to cross for several days.
Be it remembered there was not a railroad or telegraph
station within a thousand miles of us. The business
houses, with one exception, were on El Paso street,
and around the little plaza. My brother Anson and I
each built homes at El Paso before the war, he on San
Francisco and I on San Antonio street. The postoffice
was on the west side of El Paso street, facing the head
of San Antonio street, and in this same large room there
was also a whiskey saloon, a billiard table, and several
gambling tables. "Uncle Ben" Dowell was postmaster.
This room and the street in front of it were the favorite
shooting grounds of the sporting men, and others, and
here took place many bloody encounters, some of which
may be treated of in these idle writings. The graveyard
was convenient, being on one of the hills on what is now
known as "Sunset Heights." At one time there were
more people buried there who had died by violence than
from all other causes. When I state that the writer of
these pages sometimes read the burial service there over
the remains of our departed countrymen, it may be
imagined how sadly we were in need of spiritual guid-_
ance. Every citizen, whatever his age or calling, habitually
carried a six-shooter at his belt, and slept with it
under his pillow. I remember a friend, Johnnie Evans,
saying to me once, when I was so thoughtless as to start
down street without one: "Buckle it on, Mills; we don't
often need 'em, but when we do need 'em, we need 'emOh,
God!" Every man's horse, or team, and arms were
the best his purse could buy, and my white saddle horse,
that carried me for ten years, was surely a dandy. Sometimes,
when I have journeyed to Las Cruces or Mesilla,
fifty miles, in my buggy, I have turned this animal loose,
Here’s what’s next.
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Mills, William W. Forty years at El Paso, 1858-1898; recollections of war, politics, adventure, events, narratives, sketches, etc., by W. W. Mills., book, 1901; Chicago. (texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth6112/m1/12/?q=Forty%20Years%20at%20El%20Paso,%201858-1898:%20Recollections%20of%20War,%20Politics: accessed July 26, 2017), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, texashistory.unt.edu; .