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Janet Smith,
Field Torker. About 1400 words.
PIONEER STORIES
Interview with Mrs. William C. Heacock
Mrs. Heacock laughed when I said I had heard that her hus-
band had been a famous judge in the old days in Albuouerque.
Notorious had been the word that first occurred to me but I had
of -course rejected it.
She didn't think that she could tell me stories about her
husband's career so well because she had never naid much atten-
tion to his business. She had been busy raising her family.
She remembered well enough the shack she had lived in --you
couldn't call it a house --and lucky to met that for there
weren't any real houses in Albuqueroue in those days. The shack
had been on South Second Street where the Crystal Beer Garden
now stands. It was a dusty spot and she wanted her husband to
buy a little land near Robinson Park where there were a few
trees and a rump. She would have been satisfied with a one
room house and a tent there, she said, but her husband said a
house built on that snot would sink into the quicksands in no
time. "He had no eye for business," she said. "He knew just
one thing --the law."
She remembered too the board sidewalks and how the planks
would bob 1110 first on one end and then on the other see -saw
like as she nushed her baby carriage over them. There were
half a dozen saloons to every block and the cowboys would loll
in the doorways and against the walls competitively spitting
amber juice. "When I think of it now," she said, "but it seem-
ed natural enough to me then."
One night, about 1890 she thought, she was just clearing
away the supper table when she heard shots outside. She ran
to the door to see what was happening, when her husband called
her back. The safest thing to do at such times was to lie down
on the floor. The drunken cowboys generally had no desire to
kill anyone, but it was safer to keep out of the ray of their
bullets. On one occasion a cowboy had killed a child. He was
drunk and looking for black cats to shoot at. He was horrified
when he realized what he had done, but they hung him. They had
to make an examnle of someone in order to make Albuquerque safe
for their children. Mr. Heacock had prosecuted the case, and
was so upset when the man was hung that he refused thereafter
to serve excent as a defense lawyer.
Another time Billy the Kid had come to the door to get her
husband to help him out of some kind of a scrape. Mrs. Heacock
had answered the door. She said he looked like any nice young
lad to her. Afterward everyone was talking about him, and she
was glad she'd seen him, but she didn't ever believe any of that
talk about his being a bad character. They were after him, and
he had to nrotect himself, didn't he?
asked lArs. Heacock if the story about her husband's fin-
ing the dead man for carrying concealed weapons were true. She
laughed and said it was true all right, but she couldn't remem-
ber "just how it went."
This is the story as it was told to me, somewhat era.
bellished with time perhaps, but a'good story, and according
to Mrs.HOurock based on fact.
Judge William C. Heacock and his cronies were playing
three card monte in the back room of a saloon. The cards were
against the Judge that evening and along about one in the morn-
ing he found himself without funds to continue his game. As
wag customary with the Judge in such critical situations, he
called in his deputies who were drinking at the bar in the
next room.
"Get me a drunk," he ordered, "a drunk With money in his
pockets who is guilty of disorderly conduct."
The deputies departed on their familiar mission, and the
Judge retired to the Court Room on the upper floor, where he
prepared to hold a session of night court. A town like Albu-
querque needed a night court to keep it in order.
Before long the deputies returned, carrying a limp man
between them.
"What the Hell?" said. the Judge. "What's that you got?*
"Your Honor," replied one of the deputies, as he straigh-
tened up from placing his burden on the floor, "we found him
in the back room of The Blue Indigo."
"Can he stand trial or is he dead drunk?" asked the Judge.
"He's not drunk, but he's dead all right. He croaked him-
self over there in the Blue Indigo. The proprietor insisted
that we get him out of there."
The Judge was annoyed. "Didn't the fools ever hear of an
inquest?" he asked. He had sent for a lucrative drunk, not a
drooling suicide.
He turned solemnly to his deputies. "This court is a court
of justice," he said. "The right of habeas corpus must not be
ignored. The prisoner must be given a speedy and fair trial.
This court is ready to hear evidence. What is the charge?"
"Your Honor," spoke one of the deputies. "The charge has
not yet been determined."
"This court will hear no case without a charge. Did you
search the prisoner?"
"There was a letter to some dame—" began the deputy.
"Any money?"
The deputy counted $27.32.
"Any weapons?"
They took *gun from the hip pocket.
"Has the prisoner anything to say before sentence is imposed
upon him?"
Judge Heacock cocked his ear expectantly toward the prone
prisoner. "In view of the unresponsiveness of the prisoner which
this court interpret shcontempt, and in view of the unlawful
possession of a lethal weapon this court imposes a fine of $20.00
and court costs," pronounced the Judge.
"You might as well leave him there till morning," said the
Judge as he pocketed the money. The monte game continued on the
floor below.
Mr. Heacock says they used to do funny things in Albuquerque
in those days. And many of them were done in the name of
justice. She remembers the time when a well dressed stranger
arrived on the train from the East. He took a hack to the
hotel on First Street and was just paying the hack driver,
when two big deputies arrested him and took him to court for
being a suspicious character. "Because he was too well dress-
ed and they needed money for the city that day," she added.
And then there is the story of how Judge Heacock sent
Elfego Baca to his awn jail for a month. Mrs. Heacock laughed
about that one too.
The story is told in Kyle Orichton's book "Law and Order
Ltd.
Judge Heacock's deputies were out searching for a drunk for
the night court. When they tried to arrest Jesus Romero, who
was a friend of Elfego Baca's, Mr. Baca objected to the extent
of whanging one of the policemen over the head with his huge sil-
ver watch. The injured man was one of Albuquerque's favorite
policeman, and when the crowd saw him lying unconscious, they
assisted the other deputy in escorting Mr. Baca to the night
court. Romero was completely forgotten.
"Disorderly conduct" was the charge which Mr. Baca denied
with some heat. But the night sergeant had discovered $1g.19
in his pocket.
"Thirty days or ten dollars and costs," said the Judge.
But they couldn't pull that stuff on Mr. Baca. He took the
thirty days, and a deputy accompanied him to the jail in Old
Town where unbeknown to the Judge, Mr. Baca had recently been
appointed jailer. The name of E. Baca was signed in the record,
and the jailer, Mr. Elfigo Baca, received the regular seventy_
five cents a day for the feeding of the prisoner. At the end of
the month Mr. Baca was $22.50 the richer for his encounter with
the Albuquerque night court.
Perhaps it is only fair to add a bit concerning the more
serious side of Judge Heacock!s career. He graduated from Anne_.
tolls in the days when graduating classes were very small, stud
led law in Philadelphia, and at one time surveyed the harbor at
Rio de Janiero. Mrs. Heacock said that he had many offers to
leave Albuquerque for positions in all parts of the country. But
life as he was able to live it in New Mexico evidently suited
him best.
Janet Smith,
Field worker. About .i600 words.
PIONEER STORIES
Interview with Mrs. William O. Heacock
The other day Mrs Heacock told me a story of a trip to
Jemez that had all the elements of a good western story of the
old days —covered wagons and Indians, quicksands and a wall
of water.
She and Judge Heacock started out with their two babies
for Jemez Springs ---a three day trip by wagon. They traveded
in a big covered wagon, called an ambulance, from the Spanish
"ambulanza." They had six horses, two to pull the wagon, and
four extra in case of trouble. They took what furniture they
would need in Jemez, two boys to drive and care for the horses,
and a girl to care for the babies, ---though Mrs. Heacock said
she never did because she was always talking to the boys.
"I never wanted to go in the first place," Mrs. Heacock
said, "but the Judge wouldn't have it that way. We had to
sleep on the ground, right on the ground with my two babies I
was so particular about, We would coil the big ropes used for
the horses around us to protect us from the snakes, but I was
always scared to death, though I was so tired at night I could-
n't help sleeping some. The coyotes would howl, and my it was
a fright, but that man of mine would go in spite of anything."
The second day out they got lost on a mountain. The men
went to look for someone who could help them to find the right
road again.
"I didn't like that at all," Mrs. Heacock said, "being
left there alone with only that helpless girl and my two babies)
and heaven knew what wild animals and Indians were about."
Suddenly they heard a whoop, and an Indian cane riding
over the hill.
"I gabbed the gun," Mrs. Heacock said, "though goodness
knows I didn't know how to shoot one, And there were my two
babies lying in the bottom of the wagon, and that Indian rid-
ing right for us for all he was worth. I decided to wait till
he got almost to us, before I tried to shoot. Then he yelled,
'Pretty soon --pretty soon, now', and I put the gun down. He
meant they were going to get us out of there pretty soon."
That night they spent in an Indian settlement ---Zia, Mrs.
Heacock thought it was. They had a whole one room house to
themselves with a big bed for Mrs. Heacock and the girl and the
babies. She thought that was considerably better than sleeping
on the ground, until the men began to pile the furniture in front
of the door. Then she realized that they were afraid of the /11,
dians, and she couldn't sleep a bit all night. "I just lay
there and expected those babies to be scalped before morning,"
she told me.
But morning came, and the babies cried safely. The men got
up from the floor and stretched and moved the furniture away
from the door. Mrs. He went out to the wagon to get some
things for the babies, and every single thing that could be mov-
ed was gone. That made the rest of the trip even worse for her.
"As if we hadn't had hard enough of a time already ---that
day we were right in the middle of a river when the wagon began
to sink. Quicksands. It had been a good fording place the year
before,but the sands shift. The men took off their shoes and
macidliteand rolled up their trousers and carried me and my two bab-
ies and the girl to the bank. Then they hitched up the other
four horses and after a lot of splashing and heaving and swear-
ing they pulled out of there."
"I sure was exhausted when we finally got to Jemez with my
two babies. But the flies there were such a sight, I made up
my mind to go right back. They offered me every inducement
they could think of to stay, but I had my mind all made up, and
the next day I started back with my two babies on the stage.
"The first day I ate a lunch at a woman's house and every
bit of it was bad. The egg was bad and the meat was bad. I got
very sick and the baby I was nursing got sick too. That baby
Tudt'yelled and screamed continually and the people on the stage
were so mad they wouldn'ippreak to me. Finally I got so sick I
made the driver gtrop and let me lie on the ground. The passen-
gers were all wanting to put me back in the stage and get on our
way for they wanted to get home. I never saw such selfish peop-
le. But the driver did what I told him. Finally I became ab-
solutely rigid, and then two women did get out and rub me until
I wasibetter andtotilliolimb back into the wagon. They said after-
wards I had a fit. But I never had a fit in my life. I was just
plain sick and no wonder.
"We had stopped on one side of an arroyo, and we no more
than got over that arroyo and a little way on the other side,
when a wall of water as high as a three story house swept down.
It was a pretty sight to see, but it sure would have dashed us
and the wagon to bits inns had been in the middle of the arroyo
a minute sooner. That gave us all a turn, and the people were
more friendly to me the rest of the journey.
"I declare I thought I'd never go on a trip like that ag-
ain, but the next summer we started off just the same."
Mrs. Heacock sat rocking and thinking on her front porch.
Suddenly she turned to me. "One thing I want to tell you though,"
she said, "and I want to impress it upon you, men were a lot
more considerate of their women folks in those days than they
are to -day --a lot more considerate. It seems to me from all I
see that they aren't altall considerate these days."
"How do you account for it?" I asked.
"I think its because women have taken to working and earn-
ing their own money," she answered. "They had to I s'pose. There
were plenty of men in those days that used to gamble and drink
up their pay check before they ever got home with it. I guess
that's why the girls went to work. They saw what their mothers
had to put up with. Well, I guess it about evens up, but in lit_
Ile ways, the men were lots more considerate then."
Some people walked by and Mrs. Heacock asked if I knew them.
"I dorAt,ffshe said. "/t seems funny too. There was a time
when I knew everybody. When I went out wheeling my two babies,
everybody spoke to me and helped me over the rough places. Now
I hardly know the people who walk past my house. Why, roan
remember the time when the people here would carry Mr. Heacock
through the streets on their shoulders after he had won a case.
"Mr. Heacock was always loyal to his clients and they lik-
ed him. Though lots of people censured him for things he did.
I guess I told you that stoxyabout the time he fined the dead
man? Another time I remember, they were gambling and needed
some money, and they brought in ten Chinamen to the night court.
Two o'clock in the morning it was and the deputies went out and
rounded up those ten Chinamen. They hadn't done anything, I
suppose, but the night sergeant counted what money they had in'
their pockets, and then Judge Heacock fined them almost that
much for disorderly conduct. He always left his victims enough
for breakfast. 'Cruel and inhuman' I told him, but the China-
men never said a word. The Judge knew the first one they brought
in, 'I'm sorry, John," he said, but it's the mandate of the law
hanging over your head." And after he had fined that one, he
said, 'Bring on the next queu.'
Mrs. Heacock laughed. "I used to get mad at him when he
came home and told me those things he'd done, and people did
censure him."
"Btill,she went on, "he was better than dome of those that
censured him. His clients thought a lot of him. He defended
thirty-eight or forty accused murderers and never lost but two
of those cases."
I remembered what Mr. George Klock, who had opposed Mr.
Heacock in many cases said to me about him:
"He was irregular --a bit irregular. But be never broke
his word, and he was a brilliant man. If he had cared a little
more for his health and his morals, he would have made his mark
high. As it was, he had a following that was as loyal to him
as subjects to their king."
The first story related by Mrs. Heacock took place between
Albuquerque and Jemez about 1895. The Indians concerned were
from the Zia Pueblo, and it was there that Mrs. Heacock and her
family spent the night. The river mentioned was probably the
Jemez Creek, although Mrs. Heacock was not sure.
The story concerning Judge Heacock's Night Court might have
occurred any time during the 190's ---Mrs. Heacock could not tell
exactly. It, of course, happened in Albuquerque.
Mrs. William C. Heacock lives at 402 Princeton Ave., Albu-
querque.
Mr. George Klock lives at 315 North 10th St., Albuquerque.
Following are the names and addresses of informants of pre-
vious pioneer stories:
Ella May Chavez, IlLelen, N. M. (frequently at the Ives Mem-
orial Bldg. of the Methodist San., Albuquerque).
Elfego Baca, 523 W. Gold Ave., Albuquerque, N. M.