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TRIGGER MARSHALL
THE STORY OF CHRIS MADSEN
BY
HOMER CROY
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Contents
TABLE OF CONTENTS
REQUEST FROM THE PUBLISHER
Illustrations
Chris Madsen in 1891
A Prairie Saloon
The Lindel Hotel in Guthrie
Chris Often Stopped Just Such Men...
The Club Theater in Guthrie
Chief Whirlwind
Chriss Badges and Medals
Cowboys at Dinner
A Saloon in Ponca City
Bill Tilghman
Red Buck
Chris Chases the Daltons
Heck Thomas
Chris and White Buffalo
Chris in His Later Days
Foreword
CHRIS MADSEN was a greater peace officer than Wyatt Earp. As a matter of fact, Wyatt Earp spent more years gambling than he did bringing peace to the land. And his part in the O. K. Corral fight, under the cold inspection of history, does not show up very well. The men he helped kill that dark day had better reputations than the Earps had; besides, the victims were unarmed and had their hands in the air. The affair was a feud between the two groups, starting over mule stealing, and was not at all the matter of bringing law to a wild land. Wyatt Earp is a great hero and will go galloping along for years to come, but that is because he played in luck. He teamed up with Doc Holliday and Doc helped immortalize him.
Chris Madsen had no such luck. If hed had a Doc Holliday to help him out, and a bit of luck in a few other places, he would be as great a hero in the public mind as Wyatt Berry Stapp Earp.
Chris brought in far more bad men than Wyatt Earp ever did. He brought them in from hay crossings and outlaw dugouts in Oklahoma instead of from publicized Dodge City, Ellsworth, and Tombstone. And now I expect all the Earp fans will want to bring me in.
It would seem that Wyatt Earp, as a peace officer, served six years and three months, or seven years, if one counts his deputy United States marshalship in Tombstone, of which there is no record. Chris Madsen, as peace officer, served twenty-five years.
Chriss story has never been told, that is, except in the newspapers. This is the first book that has attempted to set it down. I had the good fortune to meet up with Chriss son Reno, and he began to tell me about his father. He hauled out an ancient, brass-bound trunkit was full of doubloons. Chris had written his life story, and there was the manuscript smiling up at us. And hed written many pieces for the Oklahoma papers about his adventuresand there they were, too, beaming at us. And there was a whole armload of papers. Seemingly the man never threw away anythingthank goodness! I itched to get my hands on them and when I did I was as happy as a boy in a watermelon patch.
I want to thank Reno Madsen for his great help. Half the time he thought I was crazyhe might have a point thereso many questions and demands for verification did I throw at him. He grumbled but he came through. And here it is, in your hand.
I think of the story as bigger than one man. I think of it as the history of an erathe Outlaw Erain a section of Indian Territory that was trying very hard to grow up into a state.
I am glad to pass on to those interested in Americana this story of the making of one corner of America.
THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER 1A Danish Boy Arrives in America to Fight Indians. He Gets to Fight em. Sees Buffalo Bill Kill Yellow Hand.
NOT TOO LONG ago a Danish youth named Chris Madsen landed in New York to fight Indians. At this time, in Denmark, the favorite reading for young people was about Indian fighting in the Wild West. One way and another Chris saved up enough money to come to America to help kill the bloodthirsty Indians who were scalping and murdering innocent white people. That is the way he thought of the Indiansbloodthirsty; for that matter, that was the way almost everybody thought of themdownright savages; the sooner they were killed the better.
Chris arrived in New York in January 1876the year of the Battle of the Little Big Horn. He was a short, stocky lad with a barrel chest, hands as big as snowshoes, and an accent as thick as a coffeecake. And blue eyes.
He didnt know it, but he had come at exactly the right time and to the right place. The great Indian campaigns were on and they were not doing well. So greatly did the United States Army need recruits that it was signing them up in New York. Sergeants walked the streets; when they saw a young man who might develop into a fine Indian fighter they would go up to him and tell him about the glories of Indian fighting. The last thing they would mention was the rate of payfifteen dollars a month. Nor did they mention the chance of being scalped. But the young men of New York thought for themselves and said, in effect, that they didnt want to kill Indians, however much the Indians deserved to be killed.
This was where young Christian Madsen came in. The books and magazines he had read in Denmark made him eager to help the West get rid of the painted devils. He met a sergeant and said, Where is eet peoples sign oop to kill Indians?
What did you say? asked the sergeant, so thick was Chriss accent.
Chris repeated what he had said.
The sergeant smiled. You come with me, he said with great cordiality. I think weve still got a few places open.
Chris marched off happily.
The two arrived at a rough, crude office at the top of a wooden stair. Three or four dejected creatures were sitting in the roomevidently the bottom of the man barrel. Sit there and wait your turn, said the sergeant, then went out in search of other Indian fighters. One by one the men were called, and they shuffled into a back room. After a while they reappeared, but left by a side door; whether they had been rejected or had signed up, Chris didnt know.
At this time a person didnt have to have a passport to come into the United States. He got off the boat and he was in the United States. Nor did a person have to be a citizen to be enrolled into the Army. The Civil War had been over ten years; the people knew the grim realities of war and wanted none of it. It was hard scratching for the Army to get recruits; it took what it could getespecially for the western campaigns. And here was young Chris Madsen pining to sign up.
A man poked out his head and called, Next.
It was Chriss turn and he got up joyfully. His first step to become an Indian fighter! He was shown into a side room. Take off your clothes, said an orderly.
Chris got out of his clothes. In a few minutes a doctor came.
