By Brad Courtney

Prescott is the bearer of several well-known legends. One wonders why an event that happened on Whiskey Row on June 28, 1896, is not one of those widely told stories.


That night, twenty minutes until 10 o’clock, the dining area of the popular Cabinet Saloon was rocked by a dynamite blast heard throughout all of Prescott. Bertha Hovey and another woman identified only as Cora—two “habitués of Granite street," i.e., prostitutes—were dining in the back when the explosion occurred. One was injured but both miraculously survived.


The question was:  Why would anyone want to blow up a perfectly fine saloon and restaurant? Steve Prince, Chief of Police, began an investigation.


After robbery of the Cabinet’s gaming tables was eliminated as motivation, some facts came to light that could not be denied. One, whoever perpetrated this act was familiar with the use and the power of dynamite. Evidence also began to suggest that at least one of the ladies had been targeted.


Bertha Hovey’s “professional” colleagues mentioned to Prince that someone had indeed been stalking Bertha. They also revealed that she not only had a husband, but a jealous one. His name was William Binkley, a miner who’d been working at the Last Chance Mine in the Walker District. When questioned, Bertha, for reasons that later surfaced, claimed that, no, he couldn’t be the dynamiter; they were “on pleasant terms.” Still, suspicion ran high. Prince arrested him.


At first Binkley professed innocence, but a guilty conscience prohibited him from continuing that lie for long. On July 19, he confessed. His motive was more than contempt for Bertha’s profession, if he had any contempt at all. Soon after they married, almost as if it had been a hoax, Bertha informed him she had another husband. Whether Binkley and Bertha ever lived together is uncertain, but she had clearly arranged for them to live apart. Binkley confessed that he’d stalked her “at her adobe” many times. Bertha however, would belittle him and shoo him away.


Binkley must have felt emasculated.  His anger grew to a boiling point, and he began planning a murder/suicide. As a mine worker, he was familiar with the use of “giant powder,” and it was available for “free” at the Last Chance. Binkley procured six sticks of dynamite with three feet of fuse and one cap from a nearby cabin there. He hid it behind the Double-Decker on Granite Street, which may’ve been Bertha’s workplace, located just a few yards behind the Cabinet dining room.


On the night of June 28, Binkley learned where Bertha was sitting in the Cabinet. Retrieving the explosives, he carried them across Whiskey Row Alley to the Cabinet cellar, placed them below his wife’s table, lit the fuse, and fled to the Royal Saloon down the street. Thirty seconds after he entered the Royal, the massive blast was heard across town.


Like everyone else, Binkley ran to the scene.  He later divulged that if he saw Bertha dead, he would’ve followed “his mistress to the unknown.” He was carrying laudanum, enough to fulfill that purpose. Seeing his once-beloved alive, and that he hadn’t taught her the ultimate lesson, Binkley cancelled his planned self-inflicted death and walked off into the night.


After confessing to the crime, the still angry jilted husband tried to persuade the police chief to arrest Bertha Hovey for bigamy. Prince refused.


Cabinet Saloon proprietors Ben Belcher and Barney Smith were back in business within a month. Bertha? Her fate is not known, but some believe she carried on business as usual.


Binkley was convicted of attempted murder and sentenced to ten years in the Yuma Territorial Prison, but was released after only three. He wasted no time and married Emily Garrison. They stayed together until she died 1l years later. Again, Binkley wasted no time. Two months after Emily’s passing, he married Rosina “Rose” Ward.  They had eight children. According to Rose’s granddaughter, Terri Humble, one of their sons, Red, opened a saloon in Port Angeles, Washington, where at one point John Wayne was filming. “John liked his booze so the two became very good friends,” said Terri.


The dynamite demon of Whiskey Row’s Cabinet Saloon died of stomach cancer in 1928.


Contact Brad Courtney at whiskeyrowbooks@gmail.com for a free “Whiskey Row History Walking Tour.”


"Days Past” is a collaborative project of the Sharlot Hall Museum and the Prescott Corral of Westerners International (www.prescottcorral.org). This and other Days Past articles are also available at www.sharlothallmuseum.org/library-archives/days-past. The public is encouraged to submit proposed articles to dayspastshmcourier@gmail.com. Please contact SHM Library & Archives reference desk at 928-277-2003, or via email at dayspastshmcourier@gmail.com for information.