Doubtful Canyon
By John D. Rose
Cochise raids near Doubtful Canyon John Giddings Grave Steins Peak
The Giddings brothers were early entrepreneurs in the primitive travel from San Antonio Texas, through Arizona and onto San Diego California. "Overland to the Pacific!" their ad in 1859 proudly proclaimed. "The San Antonio and San Diego mail line, which has been in successful operation since July, 1857, are ticketing passengers through to San Diego, and also to all intermediate stations. Passengers and Express matter forwarded in new coaches drawn by six mules over the entire length of our Line, excepting the Colorado Desert of 100 miles, which we cross on mule back."
In this daring enterprise, owners G.H. Giddings and R. E. Doyle, along with Superintendent J.J.(John James) Giddings (brother of co-owner G.H. Giddings) were attempting commerce through dangerous Apache lands, during periods of time when Apache leader Cochise was not easily confused with a "welcome wagon" as American encroachment continued, especially after the well known "Bascom Affair" in February 1861.Prior to, even in 1859 and before latter escalations between Cochise and the Americans reached a fevered pitch, the Giddings brothers and partner Doyle knew that they had to assuage the concerns of the traveling public. "An armed escort travels through Indian country with each mail train, for the protection of the mails and passengers," they assured prospective passengers. Though this assurance may have given confidence to some, such confidence would soon disintegrate into disaster in late April, 1861. Traveling in the area of the ironically named Doubtful Canyon, near the Stein's Peak of Arizona, a provision wagon that departed "Tanks Station" for the San Simone Station on April 23, was soon missing.
On April 27th, another stage coach departing Tanks Station carrying among others Superintendent J.J.Giddings soon raised concerns when it failed to reach it's destination. Worse yet, the return arrival of two badly bruised mules from this ill fated stage confirmed the likelihood of the worst possible scenario...an attack by Apache's, and led by Cochise. Hearing of the tragedy John Giddings brother recruited 25 men to search the area, soon finding scattered mail, newspapers, pieces of harnesses, etc. Worst yet were the human remains. "The savages inflicted upon some of their victims a horrible torture, and exhibited a refinement in cruelty unparalleled in the catalog of Indian barbarities," so quoted Cochise author Edwin Sweeney in his book "Cochise," quoting the May 11th 1861 Mesilla Times.G.H. Giddings would soon file an $8,335.00 claim against the government for restitution, a sum in todays terms in excess of $150,000. These photos show the grave marker of John James Giddings in the same area in which he died.
In this daring enterprise, owners G.H. Giddings and R. E. Doyle, along with Superintendent J.J.(John James) Giddings (brother of co-owner G.H. Giddings) were attempting commerce through dangerous Apache lands, during periods of time when Apache leader Cochise was not easily confused with a "welcome wagon" as American encroachment continued, especially after the well known "Bascom Affair" in February 1861.Prior to, even in 1859 and before latter escalations between Cochise and the Americans reached a fevered pitch, the Giddings brothers and partner Doyle knew that they had to assuage the concerns of the traveling public. "An armed escort travels through Indian country with each mail train, for the protection of the mails and passengers," they assured prospective passengers. Though this assurance may have given confidence to some, such confidence would soon disintegrate into disaster in late April, 1861. Traveling in the area of the ironically named Doubtful Canyon, near the Stein's Peak of Arizona, a provision wagon that departed "Tanks Station" for the San Simone Station on April 23, was soon missing.
On April 27th, another stage coach departing Tanks Station carrying among others Superintendent J.J.Giddings soon raised concerns when it failed to reach it's destination. Worse yet, the return arrival of two badly bruised mules from this ill fated stage confirmed the likelihood of the worst possible scenario...an attack by Apache's, and led by Cochise. Hearing of the tragedy John Giddings brother recruited 25 men to search the area, soon finding scattered mail, newspapers, pieces of harnesses, etc. Worst yet were the human remains. "The savages inflicted upon some of their victims a horrible torture, and exhibited a refinement in cruelty unparalleled in the catalog of Indian barbarities," so quoted Cochise author Edwin Sweeney in his book "Cochise," quoting the May 11th 1861 Mesilla Times.G.H. Giddings would soon file an $8,335.00 claim against the government for restitution, a sum in todays terms in excess of $150,000. These photos show the grave marker of John James Giddings in the same area in which he died.
This is Steins Peak in the distance, near the present day Arizona New Mexico border, not far from I-10
The remains of the Stage Station and near the scene where two victims of the Apache attack led by Cochise had been tortured to death. As the Messilla Times further reported (see page 171-172 "Cochise by Sweeney) "The roof of the station (which has some time since abandoned) had been burned, the corral wall had been thrown down, and the Indians had formed a breastwork around the springs. Near the station the bodies of two men were found, tied by the feet to trees, their heads reaching within eighteen inches of the ground, their arms extended and fastened to pickets, and evidence of a slow fire under their heads. The bodies were pierced with arrows and lances. They were so disfigured as to render recognition impossible."
Another view of the station with Steins Peak in the background
As this view from the air shows, remains of this ill fated stage coach route are still visible today. Often such roads continue to be used by locals in remote areas offering a valued form of maintenance and indirect historic preservation .
Copyright 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018. John D. Rose all rights reserved.