"It's not night yet. The house is all fired. Goodbye boys, if I never see you again."
"Nathan D. Champion"
Nate Champion and Nick Ray (or Rae) were only two of seventy names on the Regulators' shopping list, but their deaths, April 9, 1892, stirred up a hornet's nest. The Johnson County War was heating up.
The Johnson County War was like numerous other range wars. It was being fought over land and cattle and free enterprise. This time, however, it was not a matter of one giant against another. This war was fought by a consortium of wealthy ranchers against squatters, outlaws, and rustlers who were stealing them blind.
On the other hand, the squatters, outlaws, and rustlers considered themselves small businessmen doing what they had to do to survive. By "Blacklisting" a cowboy because he would brand mavericks or buy or sell these "orphan" cattle, or simply for having the effrontery to own his own small herd, the big ranchers forced more than one man into a life of crime--if this kind of low-grade rustling was even a crime.
Every big ranching organization--often with absentee or foreign ownership-- used the "long rope" on mavericks. After a cowboy spends many hard days branding "stray" calves for his boss, he would have to be a real fool not to consider doing the same work for himself. With "unlimited" range available, why not start his own ranch? That is where the trouble began.
In Wyoming in the 1880's and 1890's, the Wyoming Stock Growers' Association was dominated by members of the posh "Cheyenne Club." With various lawmen, State Commissions, and local militia in their pockets, the Cheyenne Club believed they could do anything and get away with it. Hired killers on their payroll helped them enforce laws highly favorable to their interests. Men like Nate Champion were a thorn in their collective aristocratic backside.
Nathan Champion was born September 29, 1857 near Round Rock, Texas and was considered a top cowboy by all who knew him. With a fierce mustache, he was a solid, good-looking man, noted for his honesty and forthrightness, Nate had many friends among the cowboys and small ranchers in northern Wyoming. Until he was blacklisted in the early 1890's for some offense against the big ranchers--real or imagined--he was the kind of cowboy every ranch owner wanted. When he became persona non grata to the big ranchers, it was a different story.
Nate was not a man they could scare. He was handy with a gun and was never far from his weapons. It was inevitable that Nate would get crosswise with several big ranchers.
The Johnson County War did not begin with a gun but with a rope in early 1891. A suspected horse thief named Waggoner was taken from his ranch at gunpoint and found hanged a few days later. More than a thousand horses were found in his pasture and the Cheyenne Club felt they were on the right track.
Champion was running only a couple of hundred head of cattle. The range in Wyoming belonged mostly to the Federal Government, but the big ranchers chose to forget this. Their Association made it plain that when the Wyoming Legislature overturned the "Maverick" laws nothing had changed. Calves born on the range belonged to the man who "owned" the range--so long as he was an insider. An insider, Nate was not.
Nate discovered he had a few cattle mixed with another herd belonging to one of the large ranches. He went to the foreman, Mike Shonsey (or Shaunsey) and said he would like to get them out. Shonsey told Nate not to worry, as he would be working the herd in a few days and cut Nate's cattle out then. Shonsey waited until Nate left and cut Nate's cattle from the herd scattering them all over the range.
There were hard words between Champion and Shonsey over this incident, and the Association had one more reason to hate and fear Nate Champion. Shonsey would be one of those who rode against the KC Ranch. Champion had a penchant for annoying men who would later ride against him.
Robert Tisdale put two thousand cattle into a hundred-thousand acre range left open when the old Bar C ranch had folded. Nate sent his herd of two hundred into the same range. Tisdale had a fit about it. With typical big rancher arrogance, Tisdale drove his cattle out, taking some of Nate's cattle with him.
Nate and his well-armed cowboys soon rode into a large herd of Tisdale's cattle. As Tisdale watched helplessly--Tisdale's hands showed little interest in the affair--Nate and his men branded the largest calves and scattered the rest of the herd. Such antics were guaranteed to arouse the enmity of the big ranchers.
If the large ranchers were arrogant, Nate and his friends and neighbors were often brazen in their defiance. If most of Wyoming belonged to the railroad and the Cheyenne Club, the "Red Sash Gang" controlled Johnson County. There were some bona fide bad men who had drifted into Johnson County over the past decades. It would be a few years before the Hole-in-the Wall gang made Johnson County one of their safe havens, but many outlaws from Jesse James on down, had frequented Johnson County in the decades since the Civil War.
Most histories of the Johnson County War mention the Red Sash Gang. None, except The Outlaw Trail, Charles Kelly, Bonanza Books, actually give the impression this was an organized gang. Kelly states that George "Flat Nose" Curry (of the Wild Bunch and the Hole-in-the-Wall gang) took over the Red Sash Gang after Champion was killed. Sam Clover reported that Champion was wearing a red sash when he died. Was there any significance to the red sash? Probably not. The red sash was more a matter of sartorial taste than identification. Men from earlier and later times such as Wild Bill Hickock and Charlie Russell also affected red sashes.
Larry Pointer's book, In Search of Butch Cassidy, University of Oklahoma Press, mentions Champion and Curry, but makes no mention of the Red Sash Gang. Helena Huntington Smith in her comprehensive book, The War on Powder River, McGraw Hill, gives the impression that the settlers in northern Wyoming were sometimes called and called themselves the Red Sash Gang, but that only a few real outlaws were called the "Red Sashes."
There is no evidence the Red Sash Gang ever existed with the coherence and organization of the James Gang. Rather than a recognition signal for an organized gang, the Red Sash was simply something of an icon for the rebel ranchers and outlaws of Johnson County.
Under the circumstances, Nate and his friends really felt they had nothing to fear from the establishment. Sheriff Angus of Buffalo was said to be part of the "gang," and convictions for rustling were rare in Johnson County. Given two such opposing points of view, it was inevitable there would be a collision between the Cheyenne Club and the Red Sash Gang.
Wintering near the old Bar C headquarters in a rented cabin, Nate received a visit from Mike Shonsey on some pretext. Suspicious after his earlier run-in with Shonsey, Nate later figured that the visit was simply to make sure he was where he was supposed to be.
Early the next morning, November 1, 1891, three men crashed into the cabin Nate was sharing with a man named Ross Gilbertson. Talking when they should have been shooting, the intruders were careless enough to allow Nate to yawn and stretch--just far enough to reach his gun hanging on the bedpost. He fired at the same time as one of the gunmen and the battle was joined. Gilbertson stayed out of the fight, but Nate had matters under control. A few more shots by Nate and the attackers fled, at least one of them injured.
The men were later tracked to within a short distance of Mike Shonsey's home, convincing everyone that Mike was a spy for the opposition. Nate had recognized one of the men as Joe Elliot, stock detective for the Association. A confrontation with Shonsey by Nate and a friend, John A. Tisdale (not related to Robert Tisdale), elicited the information that one of the other attackers was Frank Canton. (If Champion were the outlaw the Cheyenne Club believed him to be, it is amazing that Shonsey survived the encounter.)
Nate made a complaint about the attack, but nothing ever came of it. Frank Canton was already famous as a lawman and stock detective. His past as an outlawed killer from Texas would not be known for many years. Canton had formerly been sheriff of Johnson County, and there was old trouble between Canton and John Tisdale. Canton seemed immune to proscecution under the aegis of his employers, the Wyoming Stock Growers' Association.
Only two nights before the first attack on Champion, almost every small rancher in the area--except Champion--had gathered in Buffalo. Their lofty purpose was to bring some organization of their own to Johnson County. This ragged-assed organization received the lofty name of The Northern Wyoming Farmers' and Stock Growers' Association.
Among other motions passed over the next few months was an offer of a reward of $500 for anyone caught shooting cattle on the open range. This was in answer to charges made against members by the Cheyenne Club. Perhaps the most important business announced by the new Northern Wyoming Farmers' and Stock Growers' Association was an independent roundup in the Spring. When they named Nate Champion as captain of the roundup--totally defying the Cheyenne Club--they probably signed his death warrant.
Following the attack on Champion, two local ranchers, including Champion's friend John A. Tisdale, were found dead by foul play. Frank Canton was solidly implicated in Tisdale's murder but never convicted of the crime.
The Cheyenne Club made plans to deal with the troublemakers in Buffalo and Johnson County. A war chest that would eventually amount to over $100,000 was raised and the call went out for hired guns.
April 5, 1892, a mysterious train pulled out of Cheyenne, Wyoming bound for Casper. Aboard this train were more than 50 men. Led by a pompous ex-Union soldier, Major Frank Wolcott, the Regulators were well armed and mounted. Frank Canton and Wolcott constantly squabbled over the leadership of the group. Their plans were quite grandiose.
Somewhere along the campaign, they were to seize the town of Buffalo and confiscate the militia arms stored in the courthouse. Then the plan was to move on into neighboring Converse and Natrona Counties, eliminating those on their list as they went.
A standing order to militia units to answer only headquarters orders for assistance--Wyoming law allowed county officials to request aid if the State Government failed to act--effectively isolated Sheriff Angus of Johnson County. A final fillip of the plan was to order telegraph lines cut into Johnson County. Unfortunately, Wolcott and Company had seriously underestimated the "outlaws and rustlers" of Johnson County in general and Nate Champion in particular.
When the expeditionary force reached the KC Ranch, they surrounded the cabin where Nate Champion and his partner were bunked down. After a cold wait, two out-of-work ranchhands sharing the cabin were captured by the invaders as they left the cabin. These men were not on the Regulators' list and were merely detained as the invaders resumed their vigil. They did not have long to wait.
Nick Ray came out and as he looked around, was shot several times. He somehow crawled back to the cabin and was yanked inside by Nate who was returning fire. In the lulls between the shooting, Nate wrote in his journal. As Ray died that morning and the siege continued, a note of despair crept into Nate's scribbled notes:
"Nick is dead. He died about 9 o'clock. I see a smoke down at the stable. I think they have fired it. I don't think they intend to let me get away this time."
Through the day, Nate held on. He noticed a wagon going by the cabin and remarked in his journal that his attackers had fired at the man. The man who went by was Oscar "Jack" Flagg. Flagg quickly spread the alarm organizing the locals. Unfortunately, his efforts were too late to save Champion.
Wolcott refused to move on until they had finished Champion. Champion's resourcefulness and bravery had stalled the great invasion attempt. It is reasonable to assume that had Nate been dealt with quickly, the invasion would have picked up steam and the Regulators would have ridden off in a bloodlust to finish their business.
When the cabin was set on fire and Champion, game to the end, ran out to meet his death, the day was getting late. The force moved only a short distance and cooked a hot meal in true Cheyenne Club style. Canton insisted they should strike Buffalo before the rustlers could get organized. Wolcott being the ass he was, chose to do things in his own way. Neither Canton nor Wolcott knew it, but the invasion was already over. Nate Champion had won after all.
Evening of the next day, Sunday, found the invaders under siege themselves at the TA Ranch. One of the force, Charley Ford was foreman of the TA. Fortunately for Wolcott's force, the TA was easy to defend. Over the next two days, over 300 angry settlers led by Sheriff Angus--calling themselves "rustlers and citizens"--besieged the TA. After illness, injury, and defection, there were only forty-five or so of the "Regulators" defending the TA Ranch These odds were not to their liking.
Had things gone on as they were headed, the whole force would have been wiped out to a man. The injustices of the past--real and imagined--had the crowd in an ugly mood. Fortunately for Wolcott, word of his plight eventually got back to the Governor, who after some dithering around, requested Federal Troops from President Harrison to put down an "insurrection."
The Cavalry arrived and took the invaders into custody. The charges against the Regulators were eventually dropped. Wolcott, Canton, and the others went free. The murderers of Nate Champion and Nick Ray would never be punished by the law.
Although it was expected by Johnson County residents, there was never another cattlemans' invasion. However, killings of "rustlers" by "stock detectives" such as Frank Canton and, in later years, Tom Horn, continued into the Twentieth Century. The real outlaws of the "Red Sash Gang" did some killing of their own.
After the invasion, Johnson County sank to a new low in terms of respectability. Sheriff Angus lost all control of law and order and depredations against those suspected of complicity with the invaders became frequent. Unfortunately, the outlaws did not stop there; anyone was considered fair game to these scum taking advantage of the chaos. The killing of young George Wellman, Hoe Ranch foreman, was perhaps the worst of the wanton acts that marked the post-invasion period.
What made this murder worse was the effort of many Johnson County residents to sweep the cowboy's murder under the rug; even to the extent of starting a rumor that Wellman had been murdered by the big ranchers just to make the rustlers look bad. While Wellman's killers were known, they were never convicted.
In the final "battle" of the Johnson County War, Mike Shonsey killed Dudley Champion, Nate's twin brother in May of 1883. Despite some evidence to the contrary, Shonsey was able to claim self defense. The Johnson County War was over.
Nate Champion may have been a rustler; he probably was a rustler. But whatever else he was, he must be remembered as the man who broke the Regulators' backs and stalled the Johnson County War by his stand at the KC.
E-Mail dnorman@inetw.net