By Richard Gorby

(Continued from last week.)

In September of 1867, Prescott was little more than three years old and Arizona's Territorial Capital.  The territorial legislators were all Republican and Union sympathizers chosen by President Lincoln.  Into this group suddenly appeared the new owner of the Arizona Miner, John Huguenot Marion, who in his first editorial, September 21, 1867, shockingly revealed himself a Confederate and Democrat.  He wrote:

"We shall never allow the columns of this newspaper to be used for the purpose of attacking private character, and in the discussion of public men and measures, we mean to be temperate, candid and just, giving credit to all who deserve, and condemnation to the man, party or measure that merits it."

However, in 1871, Vincent Colyer, commissioner of Indian Affairs, visited Arizona, hoping to conclude peace treaties with all Indian tribes and place them on reservations.  John Marion disagreed in a manner that was hardly "temperate, candid and just."

"We ought, in justice to our murdered dead, to dump the old devil (Colyer) into the shaft of some mine, and pile rock upon him until he is dead.  A rascal that comes here to thwart the efforts of the military and citizens to conquer a peace from our savage foe, deserved to be stoned to death like the treacherous black-hearted dog that he is."

When Colyer arrived at Fort Whipple on his peace mission, several Prescott citizens, including Marion, joined in urging him to address a public meeting in the town.  Colyer refused, showing them Marion's clipping about him in the Miner.  When he left town without speaking to the citizens of Prescott, Marion described him as "anything but a Christian gentleman."

"Marion was a man of great force of character," Thomas Farish wrote in his 1915 "History of Arizona," "of bulldog tenacity, exceptional ability and great perseverance.  He was about as homely a man as one could imagine, and in speaking, he talked in a monotone, but his utterances seldom failed to bring down the house.  He could write a very humorous article, full of wit and sarcasm, yet he had no sense of humor.  Marion seemed at his best in his characterizations when assailing those whom he disliked, or who he thought were dealing unfairly with Arizona citizens or himself."

Evaluations of Marion's brand of journalism vary sharply.  He was accused of having no regard for truth and decency.  He was charged with being "browbeating, over-bearing and bullying."  He was also characterized as "the most degraded, foul-tongued malevolent editor on the Pacific Coast."  One editorial claimed he would call an opponent a thief and liar and then hide behind the statement that "nothing personal" was intended.  The same editorial admitted that Marion's paper had a reputation as good as any and it labored constantly for "the advancement of all."

Described as a man of great force of character, he was also described as an "ignoramus, a liar and a coward" and was also compared with a "chained coyote."  He has been praised as the most talented and vigorous of pioneer editors and disparaged as a "slandering reptile."  Somewhere between those widely divergent opinions lie the character and accomplishments of John Marion, frontier editor.

Not only was Marion always described as a physically unattractive man who spoke in a monotone, but also as painfully shy.  The prospect of marriage must have been difficult. 

Nonetheless, on September 20, 1873, the Arizona Miner announced that on Tuesday, September 16, J.H. Marion and Flora E. Banghart were made man and wife, by virtue of the ceremony by Judge H.W. Fleury (whose home was the Governor's Mansion).

It is obvious that Marion adored Flora.  He announced their pending marriage in his September 16, 1873, editorial, ending with, "Quartz claims, placer claims, auxiliary claims had we in abundance, but all these did not satisfy us.  Now, however, we have struck our claim to Miss Flora and said claim is not for sale.  With her we hope to glide down life's rugged path in a pleasant way."

Everything seemed to be going well for Marion, not only a new wife he loved, but also a new newspaper, the Prescott Courier.  His best friend and fellow Democrat was Charles Rush, whom Marion helped elevate to district attorney.

Rush and Marion spent many hours together with Bob Brow in Brow's beautiful, new Palace Saloon.  The old Palace had burned down in the fire a year before.  Marion was not a drunkard, although he drank regularly.  William Berry, editor of the Yuma Sentinel recounted seeing him at a party, "laid out in the refreshment room, dead drunk, with candles at head and feet, and a regular wake held over him."

On December 14, 1884, after two sons and 11 years of marriage, Marion's beloved Flora eloped with Charles Rush, his best friend, and both disappeared.

The fiery editor became a broken man.  Not only had his wife betrayed him, but his friend and fellow Democrat had stolen his wife and destroyed his home.  He became reclusive.  For three years he waited, hoping Flora would tire of her lover and return; then he filed for divorce.  Marion had found a new wife, Miss Ida Jones who had been a compositor in the Courier office, "a handsome and stylish lady, endowed with many noble qualities of head and heart."  With his marriage to Miss Ida, Marion became calmer and much less vituperative.  He was finally more secure and his newspaper prospered and grew in importance and influence.  He was mentioned as a candidate for governor.  But on the morning of July 27, 1891, returning from his well with a bucket of water, his heart failed and he dropped dead on his porch.  He was 54.

Richard Gorby is a longtime volunteer at the Sharlot Hall Museum Archives and a frequent contributor to Days Past.

Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (). Reuse only by permission.

John Marion has been praised as the most talented and vigorous of pioneer editors and disparaged as a "slandering reptile."  Somewhere between those widely divergent opinions lie the character and accomplishments of John Marion, frontier editor.  Flora Banghart saw the good side long enough to marry him in 1873.  She later left him for his best friend.