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Rumors flew
throughout the neighboring regions of an "uprising” of the Hispanic
population against the stockmen, until the growing mob felt emboldened
to seek their revenge. A roper known as Hearne was the first to
chance the door, kicking at it and screaming that he’d "get”
Baca. He was answered most poignantly by twin two-hundred and fifty grain
slugs, one of which caught Hearne solidly in the gut and sent him to
the ground. The
cowboys responded with what became a steady volley of rifle fire,
lobbing rounds from nearly every angle. What the quickly
gathering mob failed to realize was that the floor of
Baca's
insubstantial-looking refuge had been dug down a full foot and a half
below ground level. He was thus enabled to coolly return fire with his
single-action handguns even as lead rained through the space above.
While most of the
town climbed up on the overlooking hills to watch, a group of the
attackers stretched blankets between the nearby houses to conceal
their movements, and others fired from behind the buttress of the
adobe church. One brave attacker fell back with his scalp neatly
creased by a bullet, after attempting to approach the jacal with an
iron stove-door for a shield. Finally as day turned into night,
they were able to toss flaming kerosene-soaked rags onto the dirt and latilla (branch) roof. One wall gave way under the combined
assault of lead and fire, causing a portion of the roof to collapse on
the hapless defender.
They were pretty sure
they’d "fixed his wagon” by this time but opted to err on the side of
caution, deciding to wait until the following day to try and dig him
out. Come the first gray light of dawn they were surprised,
mortified even, by the thin wisps of smoke rising from the perforated
woodstove. To one end stood a plaster statue of the Nuestra
Señora Doña Ana, while at the other end the unruffled
Baca
nonchalantly flipped his breakfast tortillas! The battle
immediately regained its former intensity, with both
Elfego
and the stoic Señora remaining miraculously unscathed.
When at last James Cook and the newly
arrived Deputy Ross of Socorro convinced
Baca
to come out, personally guaranteeing his safety, some of the Hispanic
spectators yelled for him to run. With both guns in hand and
every
cowboy's rifle trained on his chest,
Elfego
slowly approached to make his truce. Yes, he would surrender...
but only if he could keep his weapons, travel in the back of a
buckboard with his and McCarty’s Colts, and with all accompanying
cowhands keeping at least thirty feet behind them for the entire trip
to the Socorro courthouse! The ever-blessed
Elfego
even missed an ambush planned for him on route, when two different
groups of avengers each mistakenly thought the other had carried out
the mercenary deed. In jail only four months,
Elfego
was tried on two separate occasions, and was surprisingly acquitted
each time.
Nearly everyone writing about this affair has
accepted
Baca's personal tally of battle casualties: four men killed and eight
wounded. A close look at every other historical source indicates
that only the one attacker actually died from gunfire, with a second
killed by when his own horse fell on him. Likely the poor fellow
with the bullet through the knee was the only one with a significant
nonfatal wound. Regardless, the Frisco War remains the most
astoundingly unequal civilian
gunfight
ever recorded. And a source of conversation and metaphor still. |
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