Thanks
to the variety available
on cable television, on many nights my wife
nestles within the covers and watches re-runs of the Lone
Ranger right before she goes to sleep. It is a great, comforting way
to end the day, with Tonto and the noble, crime fighting hero of our
childhood riding off into the horizon, crying “Hi- Yo Silver-
awaaaay!”
According
to many Lone Ranger aficionados, the legend of the Lone Ranger has
been forming since
Zane Grey published a book called
The Lone
Star Ranger in 1915. Nobody really
knows the degree with which Grey's bestseller impacted Fran Striker's
radio character, who began America's love affair with the masked
crusader. But there can be no doubt that Zane Grey's saga certainly
provided a prototype for Striker's plot, theme, subject and setting.
Hunted by the law and outlaws, Fran Striker's ranger was six
foot-two, moved like a panther, and wore two ivory handled Colts,
almost mirroring Grey's character.
Striker seems to have morphed
Grey's basics into a serial superhero show, but both works stand
unique and need not compete with one another. Perhaps not
coincidentally, both authors and their legends were aggressively
published and distributed by Grosset and Dunlap, with permission from
Harper & Bros. Just the similarity of names suggests at least a
superficial kinship. Not only was The Lone Ranger extracted from The
Lone Star Ranger, but Tonto got his name from another of Grey's most
famous titles, Under The Tonto Rim. Recent scholarship, some fairly
elastic, has tried to speculate on the deeper origins of the Lone
Ranger, connecting the popular mythical character to at least two
real lawmen from actual history. Therefore I am much less reluctant
to share my own speculations!
A
few years ago I purchased some artifacts purported to be from Zane
Grey's estate, being auctioned on the Internet, including original
Texas Ranger photos, a 1915 newspaper clipping provided by Henry
Romeike Inc. of New York, and the proof sheet from Harper & Bros
for Grey’s dedication of the book. These items were acquired
because of my professional research for a sculpture project, but like
most historic research, one focus was leading me straight into
another. Soon the story these papers were trying to tell got me
interested in an heretofore unrecorded, yet possibly important
historic friendship.
And
one simple narrative proves it:
A
young cowboy gunslinger, very tall and Hollywood handsome, who comes
from a family of gunmen, finds himself in a running battle with a
murderous outlaw, in a kill-or-be-killed feud that can be settled
only with his death or theirs. He kills his enemy, and flees his
boyhood home to avoid prosecution, and enters into a dark world,
where he continuously encounters the indiscriminate line between
outlaw and criminal. He falls into bad company, a criminal element
intent on robbing. But in a strange turn of events he becomes a
lawman instead, a Texas Ranger, and ends up a fierce crime-fighter,
and although he does not always win his battles, he is still a
formidable ranger who takes out many dangerous outlaws and even gains
the praises of the governor.
This
is Zane Grey's basic plot in his book The Lone Star Ranger. It is
also the true story of Ranger Frank Hamer.
While
Zane Grey was becoming one of the hottest writers in America, the
movie industry wasted no time bringing his stories to the silent
screen. In 1919 William Farnum made a crack at playing the part of
Grey's majestic Buck Duane, and then in 1923 Tom
Mix starred in another version of the book. Then it was remade
as a “talkie” in 1930, and then revisited as The Last of the
Duanes the same year, and then that was redone again in 1941. Buck
Duane, the “Lone Star Ranger” was well established in Western
lore when Fran Striker is believed by many to have adapted the
character into his radio programs, and then wrote many books
featuring his character, simplified and souped-up and called the the
Lone Ranger. Soon this popular American hero was being
interpreted in comic books, movies and on television, and became a
popular and permanent American icon in the 1940's.
The
proof sheet for the dedication by Zane Gray to Capt. Hughes and his
Texas Rangers. From an unrelated collection, the bronze badge is very
similar to ones worn by Texas Rangers during that period.
In
the author's dedication of The Lone Star Ranger, Grey chose to
dedicate his saga of Buck Duane to Captain
John Hughes and his Texas Rangers. It has often been assumed
that Zane Grey had been so smitten with Texas Ranger Captain Hughes
that he based his original hero on this legendary ranger after
visiting Texas in 1913. But the character he invented did not really
resemble Hughes very much. Hughes was way beyond his prime.
A
previously unpublished photograph of Captain John R. Hughes, probably
taken by Zane Grey, and found in his personal collection.
The Lone
Star Ranger was young and big and handsome, but a dangerous and
conflicted character, a bad boy gone good, a one-in-a-thousand
outlaw-turned-hero, rising out of the lawless border region of the
American southwest. Zane Grey wrote in his dedication…
“It
may seem strange to you that out of all the stories I heard on the
Rio Grande I should choose as first that of Buck Duane- outlaw and
gunman.
But,
indeed, Ranger Coffee’s story of the last of the Duanes has haunted
me, and I have given full rein to the imagination and retold it in my
own way. It deals with the old law- the old border days- therefore it
is better first. Soon, perchance, I shall have the pleasure of
writing the border of today, which in Joe Sitter’s laconic speech,
'Shore is ‘most as bad an’ wild as ever!' ”
In
the book's dedication Grey reminisced about his sojourn with the
Texas Rangers, about the legendary tracker Joe Sitters and others,
whom he met probably in April of
1913, (Thanks to Ranger historian Mike Cox) and spoke fondly
of, as if he had made lifelong friends and found lasting heroes... at
least he could say he had actually met real Texas Rangers... and name
them by name...
“Gentlemen, I have the honor
to dedicate this book to you, and the hope that it shall fall to my
lot to tell the world the truth about a strange, unique, and
misunderstood body of men- The Texas Rangers…”
Grey's dedication provided a public
thank you to the law enforcement agency which had allowed him to
embed with them and study their character and methods. And it gave
instant credibility to the story in the book. It also gave Grey a
chance to forecast his next project, which he wanted to be about the
“modern” Texas Rangers with whom he was so impressed. But
cleverly inserted within his glowing praise, was a decoy allusion
which has never been verified.
A Ranger Coffee had told him an
irresistible tale about father and son gunslingers supposedly named
Duane, and their triumph over the worst of border outlaws: the last
of the Duanes. Grey made another distinction, that The Lone Star
Ranger was about “the old law,” administered along the border in
the early days, and that he had “retold” the story his own way,
“given full reign to the imagination,” which means that when he
got through with it, the rangers would probably not recognize it. But
was Grey borrowing from Mark Twain's playbook and merely using
“Ranger Coffee,” a trustworthy third party, and his haunting
story to give the book an authentic and timeless appeal?
There was a retired ranger, Major
A. B. or “Bob” Coffee, who was made Commander of the Ex-Rangers
Association fifteen years later in 1931. Having been associated with
the rangers since 1879 and obviously interested in the history of the
organization, he might well have visited with Grey. Most rangers were
not big talkers and they had learned through experience not to trust
journalists. It is possible that Captain Hughes passed off the dapper
wordsmith who was hunting for tales to A. B. Coffee, if he possessed
the gift of gab. But there is no record of any rangers named Duane.
Not to play spoiler, but The Lone
Star Ranger is set squarely in the career of one of the greatest of
the great Texas Rangers, Capt. Leander McNelly who died in 1875.
Even though Grey modified the spelling to “MacNelly,” there can
be no mistaking the time period from the association with Company
“A,” their border conflicts, and several situational markers
during that time, especially McNelly's clever use of undercover
agents. If Coffee told these stories, they were secondhand. But there
is no doubt that Grey had learned a great deal about the famous Texas
Ranger “Frontier Battalion” somewhere, and their real adversaries
such King Fisher, also mentioned in the text.
The Duanes were obviously a
creation of Zane Grey's imagination, that gave the author a basic
theme of inherited sin, and the difficult escape from it, which
propelled his main character. There was probably never a ranger whose
life created a pattern for the Buck Duane saga. But with every great
story, there is usually a germ of truth which provides the author
some bones of the plot, and useful realistic details. And no doubt
many a Western buff has wondered who provided those bones.
In
the not too distant past,
Bill O'Reilly produced a segment in his Legends & Lies television
series which purported to have solved the mystery of where Fran
Striker
got
his idea for the Lone Ranger. The show featured a long-overdue
recognition of Oklahoma's Deputy U.S. Marshal Bass Reeves, one of the
few Black Deputy U.S. Marshals to have ever been commissioned by the
U.S. Marshal Service during that era. O'Reilly's show had researched
and found some similarities, such as Reeves's use of Indian trackers,
and the show reasoned that the public would never have gone for a
black hero when the radio show was popular, and thus he had to be
changed to a white man.
A rare tintype of (I believe) Deputy U. S. Marshal Bass Reeves
and his wife. One of the great unsung stories of the American West...
I
was a bit dumbstruck. Convinced that Striker had built his ranger on
Zane Grey's classic, and that even Duane's looks, geography and
battles had been woven into the Lone Ranger legend, it seemed beyond
possibility that Striker was led to needlessly base his mysterious
character on a remote U.S. Deputy Marshal who spent 95% of his career
in Oklahoma. There were some intriguing parallels, but Bass Reeves
was never a Texas Ranger. He was never a young outlaw who lived or
worked along the Mexican border, and although he was a big man, he
was not exactly romantic, leading-man material. He just did not fit
and I felt O'Reilly had created a lie about a legend.
My
evidence is only circumstantial,
but it has a little more going for it, and may actually identify the
true identity of the lawman who inspired Grey, and to some degree,
perhaps even Fran Striker's adaptation. In the package I purchased
were three snapshots of Texas Rangers, one of Captain Hughes and
another (suggested by the seller) possibly of Joe Sitters, and a
larger post card-sized photo of a handsome unknown ranger, whom I
immediately recognized. The “unidentified” ranger was none other
than Frank Hamer, newly rejoined with the Texas Rangers in 1915 after
policing stints in Navasota and Houston.
Six foot- three, Frank Hamer, City Marshal of Navasota around 1910
And
here is where my personal theory began to develop about the origins
of the legendary “Lone Ranger.” One of the old tattered press
clippings in my tiny Zane Grey collection was a newspaper article
about the tragic ambush and murder in late May
of 1916, of former ranger, Customs Inspector Joe Sitters and
another ranger, who were
serving as Rio Grande River guards. When asked by a reporter to
comment on the double murder, Zane Grey lamented that it “was
not so significant because it was the passing of the oldest and most
famous of the Rangers, but
because it typified Sitter’s laconic remark, spoken in conversation
with the author a year ago, that conditions in the border country
were 'most as bad and wild as ever'.”
The
Media of that day failed as usual to get the real story from Grey or
the tight-lipped Rangers, but what happened before that would have
made a dandy book or a motion picture, except that nobody would talk
about it. Grey's dumb luck had led him into a violent region, soon
to be the ground of perhaps the last epic gun battles of the Wild
West. He hooked up with Captain Hughes and soon met and traveled with
some of the most deadly and notorious Texas Rangers who ever lived-
some soon to perish in the line of duty.
A
hardened Ranger veteran and man-tracker who had impressed Grey, Joe
Sitters became known to the American reading public in his book's
dedication, then ironically made the most costly mistake of his long
and colorful career. Divided from the main search party, Inspector
Sitters and Ranger Eugene Hulen had been shot, robbed and mutilated
while tracking the notorious Chico Cano gang in the mountains of far
west Texas. This was about a year after Zane Grey had tagged along
with these men looking for excitement.
This
places Grey on his second trip in Texas, during the spring of the
same year that The Lone Star Ranger was finally published, after an
unbelievable saga of rejections, rewrites and publishing twists and
turns. The Lone Star Ranger was released in June
of 1915, just a month or so after
Zane Grey had made a pilgrimage, believed to be his second, to Ranger
country and visited with the legendary Joe Sitters and others in my
photographs. Perhaps he was researching another book, as he
suggested in the dedication, he wanted to write another book on the
"modern day" Rangers.
Due
to publishing demands and interference, The Lone Star Ranger was not
Zane Grey's best work, and in fact it was not his plan to release all
the material that ended up under the title. Harper & Bros coerced
him into melding two manuscripts into one, which killed its
consistency and gave it an even more circuitous plot. As you read it
you get the feeling that even Grey has gone through some terrible,
dark ordeal much like his character. It was divided as Book I, The
Outlaw, and Book II, The Ranger. The dead-end sub-plots and cameo
appearances in Book I create a sweeping blur of tragedy and confusion
and hardship which make the book seem longer than it is. Book II
rescues the protagonist and places him squarely in the clutches of a
wealthy, beautiful belle. The result was cryptic and clouded with
mystery and pathos... and love overcomes... who knows, the patchwork
may have made it that much more convincing.
What
was actually transpiring was the devious kneading and bastardization
of Grey's work. He had written Last of the Duanes in 1913, probably
after his first trek through Texas, but it was rejected by Munsey's
Magazine as too much blood and bullets for their readers. He came
back with a sanitized serial called Rangers of the Lone Star in 1914,
and it finally introduced Buck Duane and his battle with injustice.
Curiously, Argosy Magazine then gladly printed his original story
that same year, and then Harper & Bros took Last of the Duanes
the next year and beefed it up with the last half of Rangers of the
Lone Star to create The Lone Star Ranger. Ironically the amalgamation
became another Zane Grey bestseller.
Last
of the Duanes birthed a number of movies but was not actually
published in its original form until 1996. The
main character, Buck Duane, was supposedly a fictional character,
forged from the depths of "Ranger Coffee's" arsenal of
Ranger lore, but had amazing similarities to one of the rangers Grey
may have met on that first trip, and certainly on his second. And the
picture of the "unknown ranger" in my stash proves Grey was
more than a little aware, possibly inspired by Frank Hamer, one of
the most sensational rangers on the border, and an intriguing
possible prototype for “Buck Duane.” A magazine book review
released by Harper & Brothers offered that the story was “easily
paralleled in real life.” But by whom?
A
fact revealed much later in his biography, Ranger Frank
Hamer ran with a rough crowd during his youth and was actually
caught up in a bank robbery scheme when just a teenager, although he
backed out at the last minute. He killed his first man, his own
employer, who had ambushed him, in a classic showdown. He was just
sixteen. And it seems the parallels won't quit, as the legend grew...
After that first killing, Hamer reportedly went to his mother and
vowed...
“Mother
I wanted to be a preacher, but from this hour on I’m making a vow
to God I will pursue outlaws relentlessly and bring them to justice.”
This
line sounds like a line right out of a Dell comic book. Could this
resolution have inspired the creator of the Lone Ranger legend to
have his character make a similar one? Ranger Frank Hamer later mused
how different his life might have been had he gone through with his
youthful fantasies, and had not the Rangers discovered him and
offered him a legitimate expression of his predatory inclinations.
And The Lone Star Ranger and its predecessors seem to be the
exploration of that question.
After
his first deadly gunfight, Buck Duane spends much of his time hiding
and surviving in the wilderness, hard to track, a frontier “Die
Hard,” impossible to capture, fighting against incredible odds. He
displays all the command of the wild that would normally be
attributed to a Native American.
“Many
days and nights had gone to the acquiring of a skill that might have
been envied by an Indian.” The Lone Star Ranger
And
Ranger Frank Hamer was known to identify closely with Native
Americans, to even live and think like an Indian, with remarkable
abilities in riding, hunting, tracking and shooting. Walter Prescott
Webb, one of the fathers of Texas literature, described his youthful
development thus: “Nature became an open book to Hamer and he
became more and more like an Indian.”
Lost
on us today was the acknowledgment and admiration of early Western
writers like Grey or Webb who edified the Native American as the
ultimate outdoorsman, imbued with the highest sensitivity to the
natural order; the greatest and most harmonious command of every
fruit of the earth. It was Webb's highest compliment to equate Hamer
with what he perceived as the “noble savage.” And perhaps Zane
Grey already had.
Already
a successful and popular writer, it is quite possible that Zane Grey
made a few courtesy calls while in Texas, and also sought reliable
historical sources. And these visits might have prompted him to
salute certain informants in his coming novel... So one curious
“coincidence” is the name a noble gentleman in Book II, a cameo
character who befriends and informs Buck Duane right before he enters
outlaw country... whose name is “Colonel Webb.” He is a fount of
information, at one point admitting his study of the history of
gunfighter Buck Duane...“I've kept track of his record, as I have
all the others.” Duane recognizes that Webb is “ the kind of
intelligent, well-informed, honest citizen that he had been trying to
meet.” He was determined at that point “...to make this valuable
acquaintance if not a friend.”
Walter
Prescott Webb at this time was not yet the patriarch of Texana that
he was to become. He was about twenty-five, more or less a
“professional student” at the University of Texas in Austin, but
in a few years would be on the faculty there; Just the kind of person
Grey would seek out and research and party with. It is another
friendship, strongly hinted, that we will never know for sure. But we
do know they were both big fans of the Texas Rangers, and both had to
have been very aware of Ranger Frank Hamer, who in less than ten
years had already made his place in Ranger history.
In
1906, when just twenty two, this real-life lawman prodigy was
recognized and recruited by two legendary old-time rangers, Captains
John Hughes and J. H. Rogers, who saw him as a throwback to the
wilder days of the 1800's, and agreed that young Hamer had the stuff
of legends. Hamer quickly established himself as a fearless, deadly
gunfighter, and after a gun battle in Del Rio, where his ace
marksmanship ended a dangerous stand off, his own legend was born. He
was soon recruited by the Governor of Texas to go subdue the warring
town of Navasota in 1908. Ranger expectations had been high for the
young gladiator, but the salary offered by the City of Navasota had
been higher, and he left the ranger service under the desperate
pleadings of the town and blessings of the governor.
The
very embodiment of the majestic Texas Ranger myth, Hamer cleaned up
well, as he put on a pressed shirt and tie and literally kicked some
behinds, and mopped up in Navasota fairly easily. He married a
schoolteacher, and tried to start a family. In Navasota young Frank
Hamer immediately had to square off with one of the town's ruffian
leaders, a hell-bent-for-leather Texas Aggie named Brown... whom he
kicked and herded down the street in the mud, forever humiliated...
and who became a lifelong foe in the process. All through The Lone
Star Ranger, a villain, also named Brown is mentioned and pointed to
as a devil incarnate. Said to be from Huntsville, a paragon of
gambling, drinking and fighting, “Half the people are crooked,”
(true, it is a prison town, coincidentally, a nearby town to
Navasota) Brown is offered up as the Texas brain trust for evil, the
kind that even bullied and robbed lesser outlaws. But due to the
patchwork of the book, Rodney Brown is just a dead-end sub-character,
a rabbit trail in the story, and is never brought to justice.
In
Grey's and Hamer's West, sometimes the bad guys got away. The rascal
Brown almost appears to be a private, subtle acknowledgment to Frank
Hamer's real struggles, and a suggestion that they were ongoing, and
never-ending.
All
through The Lone Star Ranger are wonderful, subtle clues such as the
antagonist Brown which suggest that Zane Grey had not only heard of
Ranger Hamer but studied his career as a lawman, and took tasty
incidents in his service as seed stock. For instance, Marshal Hamer
proved his natural talent as a detective while in Navasota, very much
as Buck Duane develops into one in the book. Once recognized as
lawmen present to clean up the town, both are shot at from night time
assassins, who are afraid to face him. But in a more peculiar
parallel, they both find it necessary to shoot dogs. Hamer did so in
real life after a man refused to restrain his dog from attacking
other people's dogs in downtown Navasota. This went down in history
as the only thing Hamer killed while serving in Navasota, and he
never heard the end of it. Buck Duane also had to dispatch some
bloodhounds who were tracking him, emptying his whole revolver into
them. It seems Grey was determined to make his character always a
little more dangerous than the model.
If
Zane Grey was traveling around Texas and interviewing Ranger officers
in search of Old West anecdotes, there is no doubt that Frank
Hamer's name would have come up. It would have been very tempting for
the old rangers to talk about the latest alpha-ranger, who had become
the subject of many a ranger campfire. Hamer was very tall, but
looked almost angelic, and yet with his extremely long legs, had a
crippling kick-boxing technique that made grown men beg to be allowed
to limp to the jailhouse, without further convincing. His pistol and
rifle marksmanship was instinctive, in other words he did not need to
look down the barrel and use his gunsights to aim, and he was deadly
accurate, reportedly able to put a .45 slug through a silver dollar
thrown into the air. But Buck Duane was said to have shot a playing
card in two, looking at it edgewise!
After
a couple of years of growing a sterling reputation in eastern Texas,
Mayor Rice of Houston eagerly recruited Hamer to hopefully introduce
his west Texas common sense and integrity to the expanding Houston
police department. The increase in pay would have been a welcome
boost to his plans to start a family.
Special
officer Hamer displayed his policing abilities well and attracted
many new fans, but in a couple of years the outlaw in him came to the
surface. He succumbed to a running feud with a reckless big city
journalist who insulted his integrity. In front of witnesses, Hamer
boldly announced some deadly oaths and threats, all quite
unprofessional, then slapped the insolent journalist with his
signature swipe, best compared to that of an angry bear. Instantly he
brought scandal and embarrassment to the Houston Police Department.
But
he was not through. Hamer was not just showing off. Where he came
from, men dare not insult each other without expecting a fight to the
finish. He tried to make good his threats the next day, assaulting
the reporter and his brother on the streets, striking one with his
pistol and shooting over the head of the other. He then met them at
the police station where he continued the assault, beating and
throwing the indignant and bleeding reporter out of the station. Even
the police station was no refuge for lying scamps.
“ 'But
I'm no gunfighter,' protested Duane.” The
Lone
Star Ranger
He
was later accused of shooting at his victims, but he denied ever
trying to kill anyone... with a bit of cowboy braggadocio, “I am a
good shot with a revolver, but I am not a gun fighter...” he
protested.
The
presence of villain Brown, the shooting of dogs, and this absurd
quote in The Lone Star Ranger all seem to be evidence of Grey's idea
of good-natured digs at his ranger inspiration.
A
local newspaper acknowledged that there had never been a single
complaint filed against the officer, but Hamer knew he had gone too
far, and stepped down in the spring of 1913 before he could be fired.
Bizarrely, H. C. Waters, the bloodied Houston Press reporter, later
set the record straight, writing that Hamer was not a bad officer and
had been generally on the side of the law, indirectly admitting that
his article which challenged these facts and enraged the young lawman
were off-base and even unfair.
After
trying good-paying but politically-charged jobs in law enforcement in
urban Texas, where public scrutiny was oppressive compared to the
freedoms of a border ranger, Hamer was like a warrior in a playpen.
Taming town bullies and racial unrest in Navasota led to bigger fish,
exposing the Mafia and corrupt bankers in Houston, but he also
learned about the complexities of big city government, and began a
lifelong distaste for the Media and politicians.
In
June of 1913 Frank Hamer paid his fines for assault and moved back to
Navasota, and entered a time of indecision and humiliation. Even old
adversary Brown was not as bothersome as Houston politics. If Zane
Grey was going to catch up with him, this would have been the perfect
time. Having been a popular ranger, an effective city marshal and a
prominent detective in Houston, which was a major crossroads of the
southwest, it is very possible Hamer had already met, even struck up
a friendship with Zane Grey by 1913, when he first visited Texas. And
Hamer would have been ripe to find a sympathetic ear, and someone who
could help him restore his reputation.
The
repeated mention of antagonist Brown in The Lone Star Ranger may also
help pinpoint when and where the author and the lawman may have first
met, since Brown of Navasota may be one of the few names which has
any connection to reality. I propose that they first did serious
interviews in Navasota after Hamer left Houston and might have been
more relaxed and could talk about his service there and elsewhere.
This would have been an opportune time, since Hamer was free-lancing
and temporarily located in his old haunt, and eventually working for
another former border ranger and good friend, Navasota City Marshal
M. E. Bailey. The two would have been a treasure trove of ranger
lore, and more importantly, free to talk about their ranger
experiences. Grey had his plot, all he needed was a vision of his
protagonist.
These
were dark days for Hamer, who was no doubt discouraged, as he
questioned his career choice and considered his options. He stayed
unemployed awhile, probably sending letters and hoping to rejoin the
Rangers. And probably against his wife's preferences, he finally
chose to serve under his old deputy and former border Ranger, now
City Marshal M. E. Bailey, who had taken his place. Both men were
probably pining for ranger freedoms, but dreaded the pay. City
Marshal Bailey had burned his bridge with the Rangers when he ignored
orders and arrested four Mexican generals on a Mexican army
recruiting foray inside of Texas. That mistake was what had brought
him to work for Marshal Hamer in Navasota. For him there was no going
back. And since Hamer still had admirers in the small town, he took
an assignment in Navasota to track down a burglary and car-theft
ring.
Like
Buck Duane, Hamer had a natural talent for outing the truth and
cornering the guilty. As they say, “it takes one to know one.” He
cleverly left a bogus police memo for a local waitress to recover,
and set a trap which caught the thieves and found many of the cars.
A local prosecutor presented him with a Colt revolver, a treasure for
a lifetime which he dubbed “Old Lucky,” but in truth his own luck
had run out. So traumatic was the Houston controversy that his new
wife Mollie, unable to handle the pressures and violence of being a
lawman's wife, began to question her marriage to him. When ranchers
in Kimble County wanted to hire him to catch rustlers, she put her
foot down.
It
was the summer of 1914 when Frank headed west and left Mollie
behind... and began to negotiate his divorce and a permanent return
to the Texas Rangers. Mollie almost instantly disappears from his
life, an all too typical collateral casualty of a law career, much
like Jennie, Buck Duane's romantic interest in The Lone Star Ranger.
Frank Hamer had run into an overwhelming wall of small town
gangsters, big city corruption, political correctness, and now
rejection and heartbreak.
He
was then around 31 years old. Hamer served the latter part of 1914
investigating a goat rustling operation in Kimble and surrounding
counties, in central Texas. His evil nemesis there, a prominent
rancher's son who killed a man and used him for wolf bait,
ironically carried the name Buck.
Using his superior skills as an outdoorsman, he arrested the wily
criminal, but could not get a conviction. And convenient for my
theory, Hamer reemerges in April, 1915 as a ranger on the
Texas-Mexican border with Company C, hunting bootleggers, banditos
and gun runners. And there also was Zane Grey.
A
low priority within state budgets, Texas Ranger companies were
constantly underfunded, so there was a firm freeze on hiring, and the
pay was also low. The job of Texas Ranger came cheap for those few
who qualified, but with a considerable cost and risk to the recruit.
Each ranger had to provide his own horse, his own pistol, his own
saddle and gear. He often had to pay for his own medical care. The
only thing the state provided was grub and bullets. And occasionally
burial expenses. Applications were not easily accepted or processed,
and a man had to be fairly unambitious, unmaterialistic and
half-crazy to want this kind of employment. No wonder Zane Gray found
them strange and misunderstood.
Whether
Hamer had already met Zane Grey by then, or met him there on the
border in the middle of nowhere, will have to remain a mystery. But a
casual read of The Lone Star Ranger suggests a deeper relationship,
as it brings up numerous parallels to the legendary Frank Hamer, some
of which had to be discovered in 1913 when the first version of the
Last of the Duanes was being written; Buck Duane is young, very
handsome, a lady killer, has to duck to get through doorways. He
speaks only when he has to; Several times the text relates how tall
and handsome Buck Duane is. “... too strappin' big an'
good-lookin'... ” Much later in the book, which would have been
borrowed from Grey's second manuscript, probably made in 1914, the
text describes a climactic showdown, where Duane wears two guns...
“one belted high on the left hip, the other swinging low on the
right.”
Ranger
Hamer was also blessed with extraordinary good looks. His buggy
driver in Navasota once said “...he was the prettiest white man I
ever saw.” With his big stetson on, Frank Hamer would have been as
tall as most average doorways. My photo of Sargent Hamer obtained in
my stack of Zane Grey papers perfectly illustrates Buck Duane's gun
rig, the lower one is “Old Lucky,” a holstered Colt revolver, the
higher one is his Colt automatic, stuck in his belt, ready for a
crossdraw. Quiet like Grey's Buck, Frank Hamer was once described by
a press reporter to be “as talkative as an oyster.”
True
there were several tall, quiet, handsome rangers on the border who
could have inspired Zane Grey. But If Zane Grey had not met Ranger
Hamer in 1913 on his first foray into Rangerdom, the photo of Ranger
Hamer from around 1915 makes a strong argument that they met on the
border about that time. But this would have been too late for any
literary nuggets to have made it into The Lone Star Ranger, or any of
its parts published earlier. It might however, have been taken to
give book illustrators some useful scrap to help portray a future
hero.
Standing
almost defiantly, armed and almost ready to draw, in front of an
adobe building, typical of the Trans-Pecos region, in classic border
garb, this striking photo recovered from Grey's papers reaches
through time and makes some powerful suggestions. But the main thing
is that Hamer's appearance matches the description of Buck Duane and
his gun rig as described by Grey in the last portion of The Lone Star
Ranger.
Ranger
Frank Hamer perfectly fit into Grey's mold for Buck Duane. Even if
the photograph was taken too late to have impacted the creation of
his ranger protagonist, it still might suggest that the two men had
met before and become familiar. And this is because Hamer was not
friendly, especially to writers, and rarely posed for photographers,
and almost never in such an informal, suggestive pose. The lucky
photographer almost had to have been someone familiar, and had no way
of knowing that he was capturing the young ranger at the prime of his
life, and just days from the worst violence he would ever face. Zane
Grey certainly got his money's worth on the Texas border. But he just
missed a series of Mexican mounted assaults and bloody, deadly
massacres of both sides.
In
fact, Hamer had been recruited back into the Rangers for a critical
purpose. There was a brewing threat on the horizon and the Rangers
needed the best gunmen they could assemble. Right
after the visit by Zane Grey in 1915, in early August large bands of
mounted Mexican and Tejano terrorists began to execute the “Plan of
San Diego,” and attacked some vulnerable south Texas ranches. The
Plan of San Diego was a primarily Mexican conspiracy born in San
Diego, Texas and refined in a Mexican prison. Its purpose was to aid
the Germans in WWI by causing havoc on the border with the horrifying
strategy of killing all white males over 16 years of age. The
ultimate goal was the retaking of Texas, New Mexico, Colorado,
Arizona and California for Mexico.
Not surprisingly, a small war
ensued between the revolutionaries and the combined but very limited
forces of the U.S. Army and Texas Rangers. And it was war. Ranger
style. The army was bound by military custom and administrative
protocol. So Texas Rangers led the way and took the chances of
offending the U.S. and Mexican authorities... by fighting fire with
fire, or, as it turned out, violating International Law.
Protecting the Texas Border; Captain Monroe Fox and Sgt Hamer at
Norias Ranch. They hold a white flag between them, often used by the
bandidos to coax the Texans to let their guards down. This time it did
not work.
A number of so-called
revolutionaries were killed in a wild battle at Norias Ranch near
Kingsville in South Texas. But this was just the opening ceremony.
After a band of approximately one hundred Mexican and Tejano
terrorists assaulted the Brite Ranch near Valentine, in a wild
killing and robbing spree, it became obvious that they were not just
after provisions or booty, but aiming to spill blood and control the
Mexican- American population by intimidation. Any Hispanics who were
simpatico with the Texas side were summarily executed. The
terrorists, in those days called banditos, had perfected the strategy
of sudden attack and then retreat across the border which prevented
pursuit by law-abiding American forces. But the story goes that
Ranger Captain Fox of Company B unleashed his dogs of hell after
seeing firsthand the bloody carnage, and it became obvious that many
more American lives could and would be lost.
It was better to offend the
Mexicans than watch more brutal genocide of innocents. The U.S. Army
was hamstrung. Sargent Hamer, recently transferred from Comapny C,
and ten Rangers threw caution to the wind and tracked the raiders
back to Candelia, Mexico. Outnumbered and in a foreign land, with no
legal standing and no politician covering their back, every ranger
had to have known that he might never get out of Mexico alive, and if
he did he might face prosecution and unemployment. But their blood
was up and at nightfall when the banditos began to party and
celebrate, the Ranger's dozen drew down and opened up their guns on
them. Nobody counted, and they left most of them for dead. It must
have been scores of casualties, as this little-known International
incident was the abrupt end of the nearly forgotten "Plan of San
Diego."
If
Zane Grey met Hamer at this time in his life, he was already known as
a top-gun Ranger, a deadly gunfighter and a man of considerable
ability in desperate situations. It seems incredible that a short
while later, Hamer, perhaps the real Lone Ranger, was protecting
American borders from an organized military incursion even as The
Lone Star Ranger hit the bookstores. But with the controversial
actions of the rangers, which cost Captain Fox his job, it would have
been wise for Harper & Bros and Zane Grey to distance themselves
from current border events.
Years
later, in “I’m Frank Hamer” biographers Jenkins and Frost not
so subtly title the chapter on Hamer’s border work “The
Lone Ranger of the Rio Grande.”
And this was absolutely true! As
fate would have it, in another uncanny coincidence, not long
afterwards, when border interdiction did not fit the long-range goals
of the powers in Austin, Captain
Hamer was abandoned on the border to enforce the law all by himself.
Inexplicable orders from Austin
reassigned all of his rangers elsewhere, and left Ranger Hamer in
reality, the lone
ranger
along ninety miles of river border.
This was not just an attempt to set him up for failure, it was a trap
to get him killed.
But
Hamer had been underestimated, and demonstrated a rare brand of
confidence and personal power. The authorities in Austin could not
really anticipate that they were dealing with a determined, alpha
male, with a criminal mind, whose cunning would have made Buck Duane
proud. Hamer had never hesitated to buck authority, when he was in
the right, and he was not going to submit now. Undaunted, perhaps
even a little challenged, the wily Ranger merely joined up with the
Mexican border guards and successfully led them as he would his own
men.
Outgunned
and undermanned, they still stopped gun and whiskey trafficking
across the border. Walter Prescott Webb claimed that after this
administrative glitch, which looked like a betrayal, for the rest of
his life Hamer always preferred “to run in a herd all by myself.”
From his very first citizen's arrests of west Texas horse thieves,
to his own version of Daniel in the lion's den in Houston, to his
confounding indulgent state border interdiction policies, Hamer was
the proverbial "lone
wolf" spoken of frequently in
The Lone Star Ranger. This term, first used by H. G. Wells, and later
adopted by Chuck Norris, existed long before Ranger "Lone Wolf"
Gonzaullas was given the nickname in the 1920's.
If
ever there was a case of "art imitating life... and life
imitating art," imitating life...
A cropped view of a previously unknown photo of Captain Frank Hamer,
(top) from Zane Grey's personal collection. (bottom) Marshal Frank Hamer
while working in Navasota.
The
natural good looks, carried by a six-foot-three frame, and the keen
senses and unparalleled abilities of Frank Hamer must have made him
an irresistible subject to write about. I know my father, as a cub
reporter, always counted his “interview” with Hamer as a
highlight in his short journalistic career. Although the old ranger
had little to say, he did provide proof of his marksmanship, and
introduced my father to his pet javelina, who served as his public
relations rep. My father had first met Frank Hamer in Houston in the
1930's, when he brought a badly wounded family friend to my
grandparent's home after a labor dispute, for First Aid. Hamer had
carried the grown man into the living room like a sack of potatoes,
and gently laid him on the couch. Frustrating for my father, he had
little to say about that event- or any other. He left it to others
to tell the stories, which he knew would only bring more inquiry,
which he despised. But many years before there was one story he did
tell... And incredibly, as the Lone Ranger was found nearly dead by
Tonto and nursed back to health, Hamer had once been shot and left
for dead and found by a black man whom he credited for saving his
life.
So
if it is any consolation, in my theory the original Lone Ranger was
white, but Tonto was Black!
The
famous bluesman Mance Lipscomb,
who at twelve years old was young Marshal Hamer's buggy driver and
guide in Navasota, once recalled a conversation where Hamer told this
story as he scolded Navasota whites. Captured by historian Glen Alyn,
Hamer's account was delivered by Lipscomb in his own Southern Black
dialect of course...
“ 'Now
look. A colored man was the best friend I ever had in my life.
Listen, I don’t want ya’ll to be mistreatin’ these colored
folk. Cause I been a Ranger. A colored man picked me up, while the
Carr boys shot me down. Shot my guts out, an’ left me layin’
there. An’ a colored man came along, an’ my guts was hangin’
out. An’ toted me, an rested, an carried me to a hospital. And let
‘em wash the sand off my guts, and sewed me up, and I’m livin’
today'.”
“An
said, 'I want ya’ll to be surer than hell to respect ‘em. That’s
been done over fifteen
(actually only around 10) years ago. That colored man caused me to be
livin’ today. No white folks didn’ get me here. They left me
layin’ there…' ”
Although
Lipscomb must have gotten some of the story confused over the sixty
years between hearing it and telling it, there is no doubt about the
basics of this account. Mance seemed to have especially relished in
telling about his old friend's guts.. which he dearly loved. It is
true that Hamer worked on the Carr ranch in 1905 right before he
became a Ranger. In fact it was his proficiency for catching and
turning in horse thieves there that got his invitation to join the
Texas Rangers. The name Carr was indelibly written on the old
musician’s memory, and he could not have known it otherwise. But it
is very probable that Mance got this story confused with Hamer’s
two shoot-outs with his boss Dan McSwain.
Young
Hamer was nearly murdered by McSwain after he informed an intended
victim of his boss’s plans to assassinate him. In fact McSwain had
tried to hire young Hamer to do the honors, but he refused. Later
McSwain, furious and paranoid, came up from behind him and shot him
in the back with a shotgun, and left him for dead. Although Hamer's
brother Harrison was nearby, (as the story goes) and largely
responsible for saving his life, it is quite possible he commandeered
the black man to borrow him and his buggy to take his wounded brother
to town.
It
was after finally killing McSwain the cowardly back-shooter, in the
second gunfight that Frank Hamer made his vow to fight criminals.
Buck Duane also had two confrontations with his first nemesis...
before ending it in a shoot out. He chooses to face off with his
jealous rival, assuming the man would shoot him in the back if he did
not, thus increasing his chances of survival. This was the beginning
of his outlaw saga... and the legend which created the most famous
ranger character in Western lore.
Paradoxically,
Hamer was the quiet, aloof Ranger who seemed to become an instant
legend. After being nearly killed (again!) in a deadly shoot-out in
Snyder, Hamer took some time off to heal from his serious gunshot
wounds and went to California in 1918... And curiously, went to visit
his friends and contacts there.
Who? How? Why would Hamer, a no-nonsense gunman and Texas lawman, go
to Hollywood, California? Being a leery, non-communicative
cop, I always wondered how he knew anyone in Hollywood. But somehow
he and his new wife Gladys were entertained by the most popular
cowboy actor in the world!
In
fact Tom Mix was familiar with the ranger, or at least his career,
and gave him celebrity treatment, and even begged him to become a
Hollywood actor and bring an authentic ranger to the silver screen.
In effect, he was offering Hamer the chance to play the character he
had helped to inspire. How the two got hooked up and became friends
has been a mystery... until now, and we have to consider Zane Grey as
the go-between. With his wife's support, Hamer refused an acting
career and five years later, unable to lure the big Ranger into the
part of Buck Duane, diminutive Mix eventually filmed his own version
of Zane Grey's Lone Star Ranger and starred in it himself.
Here
the obvious question leaps forth, why the resistance to fame and
wealth? Hamer was a very smart man, and he knew his talents and his
mission, and it was not acting like a western lawman, but being one.
Movie making was laborious and artificial. If there was ever a
warrior addicted to the action it was Ranger Frank Hamer. Nothing
else would do.
Hamer
must have talked to Zane Grey,
perhaps several times and in depth, but made him swear to never
divulge his source. And this secret would have served them both. It
might have hampered Hamer's law enforcement career to reveal or
exaggerate his adolescent outlawry via Grey's fiction. And Grey did
not need the publicity battle of possible criticisms of
controversial, current ranger exploits. Hamer gladly chose to always
be the mysterious man... behind
the mask. Interestingly, Grey never pursued that proposed book, where
he “told the world the truth” about modern rangers.
Tom Mix poses with one of his personal inspirations.... Ranger Captain Frank Hamer
Knowing
what history tells us about Ranger Hamer, it is easy to speculate as
to why Grey never continued his infatuation. It comes down to the
difference between a love story and a police report. Even though it
appears that Grey drilled Hamer for useful details, and even
accurately described him in appearance, character and speech, he
still had to write a marketable novel. That means that he had to add
romance and a storybook ending. And this is where the two would have
parted ways.
If
Frank Hamer, or whomever Grey found for inspiration for Buck Duane,
was expecting a white-washed version of himself, he would have been
disappointed. The very first lines of the book were “So it was in
him then- an inherited fighting instinct, a driving intensity to
kill.” The Lone Star Ranger was no glamorization of the Texas gun
culture. The author set out, not to eulogize, but to understand the
psychology of men on either side of the law who face killing every
day. And when I reread his book, I find very little that is not
absolutely compatible with what I know about Frank Hamer the man.
True
to the classic Western hero, when Buck Duane has to choose between
killing or loving, he chooses killing: “So the dark side
overwhelmed Duane, and when he left the room he was fierce,
implacable, steeled to any outcome, quick like a panther, somber as
death, in the thrall of his strange passion...” But Grey the poet
had to give his protagonist a weakness, the kind Hamer would never
admit succumbing to, and make him conquerable by a woman's love.
After all the violence, he sends him off to domestic servitude, in
this case to a Louisiana plantation, to give up Texas, his career,
his guns... this would not have pleased the hardened ranger a bit. In
the final analysis, Grey paints the Big Bend of Texas as an untamable
hell-hole, infested by killers and cattle rustlers and smugglers; a
place any sane man would gladly abandon. And yet, this was where
Ranger Hamer would stay for many more years.
After
Harper & Bros took Grey's wandering tale of a ranger's random
encounters in a Deadwoodian underworld, and turned it into a romance
story, combining the ancient law of “eye for an eye,” with the
irresistible power of a woman's love, probably even Zane Grey was
dubious or even despondent about his Ranger series. In the beginning
the question was whether Buck Duane was a criminal or an outlaw, and
the author's examination of the difference between the two. In the
end he was neither, as the man is rehabilitated by a pretty woman and
a near death experience. Probably nobody was happy with the final
result. And then the book sold like crazy!
Hamer
may have been good friends with Tom Mix, but that was seemingly the
end of his notoriety in
Hollywood. So stupidly unaware were Hollywood portrayals of Hamer,
opposite the glamorization of Bonnie and Clyde, that until very
recently they have been ones of a fat, incompetent buffoon. It got so
bad that Gladys Hamer sued Warner Bros for defamation and won a
generous settlement! So... who was the real masked man? It is
probably safe to speculate now... But personally, and I'm sure
Captain Hamer would feel the same way, the last thing anybody wants
would be more debate, or to detract in any way from Deputy Marshal
Reeves, who has long deserved recognition as well.
All
my theories aside, Frank Hamer was a Ranger considered by many
lawmen, historians, and not a few criminals in Huntsville to be one
of the greatest of all time… whose life would make the Lone Ranger
story seem what it was… a mere child’s fairy tale… He was shot
and cut many times, and killed over fifty men and one woman in gun
battles. Recently Kevin Costner starred with Woody Harrelson in The
Highwaymen, an excellent Netflix movie which portrayed his last and
most famous manhunt, for Bonnie and Clyde.
Like
that of Bass Reeves, it was recognition long coming, and greatly
deserved. Among Hamer's many contemporary fans included Tom Mix, Roy
Rogers, several Texas governors, Mance Lipscomb and the Black
community of Navasota, Texas, Walter Prescott Webb, numerous old
rangers, and FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover. And not coincidentally,
my own father, and because of that, me... I was honored to sculpt a
life-sized bronze of Hamer which stands in front of the Navasota City
Hall, a tribute to a legendary lawman, of greatness long untold,
perhaps even the man behind the mask; and perhaps a mysterious,
secret friendship, eroded over time in the muddy currents of the Rio
Grande.