Little-Known Wham Paymaster Robbery is Among Old Arizona’s Most Brazen

Gold Coins

The arid desert south of Thatcher is the site of the Wham paymaster robbery which, despite the name, had nothing to so with “wham,” “bam” or other common Batman terms.

It’s so named because, on May 11, 1889, a band of robbers ambushed a group of soldiers carrying a U.S. Army payroll to Fort Thomas and Maj. Thomas W. Wham was in charge of the unit. After a lengthy gun battle, the outlaws made off with $28,345.10 in gold and silver coins.

Eleven men were arrested in connection with the robbery; only seven stood trial in Federal Court. But, despite overwhelming evidence from the soldiers, all were found not guilty and none of the money was ever recovered.

The Fall (and Rise?) of Notorious Train Robber Burt Alvord

Burt Alvord

Burt Alvord was a big, strapping, swarthy-looking char­acter with a bald pate and an I.Q. that was said to be considerably less than his age, which was about 30. Alvord did have a few positive attributes. He was usually cheerful, had a sense of humor and was a mighty popular fellow in Cochise County during the 1890s. He’d been a deputy for county sheriff John Slaughter, who’d pronounced him abso­lutely fearless.

Burt was also pretty good with a six-shooter. Old timers said he demonstrated his prowess at beer bottles hung from a tree limb by a string. He’d shoot the string with his right hand, then draw with the left and break the bottle before it hit the ground.

His major interests seem to have been poker, pool, horses, guns and practical jokes.

Death of Old Arizona Gunslinger Inspires Well-Known Western Axiom

Old Western Weapons

Bill Downing was one of the most disliked fellows in old Arizona. He was moody, morose, bad-tempered, sullen and surly. That was when he was sober. He got downright mean and ugly when he was drinking ol’ red-eye.

He was so unpopular that even members of his gang couldn’t stand him. It’s a historical fact that one time when Bill and several other members of the Alvord gang were languishing in the Tombstone jail on a train robbery charge, a crony broke in and freed the other outlaws but left Bill locked in his cell.

He was so bad that the only thing good one could say about him was he wasn’t as despicable sometimes as he was usually.

If I seem to have painted ol’ Bill with a jaundiced brush, it’s because he likely would have wanted it that way. If he had any good qualities history has mislaid them like some old lost gold mine.

The Story of Carl Hayden: A New Breed of Frontier Lawman

Carl Hayden

The Old West was still pretty new in 1877 when Carl Hayden was born. His birthplace was a mud adobe house on the south bank of the Salt River that is now Monti’s La Casa Vieja. The railroad linking Phoenix with the Southern Pacific transcontinen­tal line at Maricopa and the rest of the civilized world was still ten years away. Morris Goldwater had recently installed the region’s first telegrapher’s office in the family store in Phoenix. Young Carl’s father, Charles Trumbull Hayden, operated a flour mill and ferryboat business along the usually placid Salt River. The elder Hayden arrived in Arizona in 1858 on the first Butterfield-Overland stage to Tucson. Earlier, he had been a trader on the fabled Santa Fe Trail. By the time of Carl’s birth, he was one of the territory’s most prominent citizens. Two years after Carl was born, the small sun-baked Mexican village of San Pablo combined with Hayden’s Ferry to officially change the name to Tempe.

The Escape of Desperado Augustine Chacon

Augustine Chacon

Augustine Chacon was one of the last of the hard-ridding desperados who rode the owl-hoot trail in Arizona around the turn of the century. Chacon was a resident of Sonora but did most of his mischief in Arizona, leading his gang on far flung forays of pillage and plunder. One time Chacon and his pistoleros robbed a stagecoach outside Phoenix. On another occasion they held up a casino in Jerome and killed four people.