By Elisabeth Ruffner

Among the myriad counties created in the United States over the earliest years of this democratic republic, Yavapai County in the Arizona Territory was the largest ever devised.  Of the original 65,000 square miles designated when Arizona Territory was organized, other entirely new counties were later carved out.

By Brad Courtney

Part one of this article told of the rise of Prescott’s first effective lawman, night-watchman William Jennings.  His downfall would be more rapid than his ascension.

By Brad Courtney

Prescott has its share of legendary lawmen.  Its first lawman of note was most likely William Jennings, a transplanted Englishman who was not a marshal, sheriff, or chief of police, but a night-watchman.  A case can indeed be made for Jennings’s induction into Prescott’s “legends club”.

By Mary Melcher, Ph.D.

During the 19^th century, a woman’s death in childbirth occurred about 65 times more often than in the late twentieth century, according to historian Judith Leavitt.  In the rural West and Arizona Territory, giving birth was especially hazardous due to a lack of competent attendants, long distances between ranches, farms and towns, as well as poor roads.  Women relied on a variety of people to help them through this potential ordeal, including midwives, doctors, neighbors, relatives and even their husbands, who were called into service when others were not available.

By Jan MacKell Collins copyrighted 2014

By 1931, the boom-bust-boom town of Jerome had seen its fair share of shady ladies. These “enterprising” women rode the carnal rollercoaster of the city’s economy as miners came and went. There was plenty of violence within Jerome’s red light district even then, and Sammie Dean’s murder has remained an especially intriguing and tragic story.

By Al Bates

This article is one of a series that will appear in this space during this year on historic events relating to the Arizona Territory’s Sesquicentennial and the founding and establishment of Prescott as the Territory’s first capital.

The first Arizona Legislature convened at Prescott in a floorless hall rented from Sheriff Van C. Smith, on September 26, 1864, but because of the late arrival of some members, it was adjourned from day to day until September 29.  Both houses then chose their officers including Coles Bashford as President of the Council and W. Claude Jones as Speaker of the House.

By Ken Edwards

The tragic death of Jennie Clark in late August 1884 resulting from a brawl in the Palace Saloon brought an outcry for rapid justice. The Daily Journal claimed that lynching the accused murderer, Fred Glover, was perhaps too mild a punishment.  The other two local papers had similar sentiments.

By Ken Edwards

In the wee hours of a Friday morning in late August of 1884, business was still at full throttle in the Palace Saloon on Prescott’s Whiskey Row when Fred Glover, an employee of the Sazerac Saloon on Gurley Street, got off work and walked over to the Palace for a few drinks before going home.

By Tom Collins

It was June 1875, and the Arizona Territory was in an uproar.  Why?  Because public schools were under attack.   Edmund Francis Dunne, recently appointed Chief Justice of the Arizona Territorial Supreme Court, was urging Catholics to stop paying taxes that supported public schools.  Public schools were too secular, in his view. Administrators were holding fast to their belief that pupils should not be required to start the school day with prayer.  Dunne denounced the Common School system and condemned the action of the Territorial Legislature in defeating a bill to give the Catholic Schools a part of the money raised for Common Schools.  A staunch Catholic and believer in religious education, he proposed the abolishment of public schools.

By Jim Turner

It was late February 1851.  Royce Oatman and his family struggled to push their wagon up a steep bank along the Gila River near present day Gila Bend.  Around sunset about a dozen Yavapai men came up from the river.  They asked for meat and tobacco.  Royce gave them some bread, and told them sternly to go away.  He said he did not have enough food to feed his family.  The Yavapai backed off several paces and stood in a circle, talking.  Then all at once they rushed the Oatmans, swinging their war clubs. In a matter of minutes they killed Royce, his wife, and four of his seven children.  They hit fourteen-year-old Lorenzo on the head and threw him over a cliff.  The Yavapai spared Olive Oatman, age thirteen, and her sister Mary Ann, eight.