It is of note that some of the elderly I talked to, disagreed with both locations -(Old Santa Fe Trail and Oldest House)-, but could not remember where the tragedy happened.
COLLEGE STREET MOJO
It has been pointed out to me by the Old Breed, through the years many strange suicides and homicides have occurred in the old College Street neighborhood. Some amateur spiritualists think an evil presence roams this ward, and influences the narcissistic and greedy.
Maybe the Old Breed are onto something, but that theme will be saved for another book.
I venture that Padilla was insanely jealous of his wife and killed her in a violent inebriated haze. (1)
MAN’S BEST FRIEND
(REST IN PEACE)
On Thursday January 17, 1895, Tomas Martinez left his father’s (Lorenzo Martinez) Muerella ranch house (South of Santa Fe) to work on a fence line and to check on the property’s grazing livestock. Martinez told his younger brother Maximilian, that he would return to the homestead on the 20th, Sunday afternoon.
Accompanying Martinez was his dog, Gallardo. According to wives tales, the hound was a large ugly shorthaired bulldog with a scarred snout and a chewed-off ear tip.
Is there some capital city embellishment in Gallardo’s description? I think so. Except for the breed, which has been authenticated by archival research, Gallardo resembles Fred Gipson’s, “Old Yeller.”
As Martinez rode the llano, he noticed a plume of smoke that was later estimated to be eight-to-nine miles from his father’s ranch house. With his four-legged companion at his horse’s side, Martinez reached the campfire and encountered two men, Francisco Chavez and Jesus Vialpando, and two teens, Zenoblo Trujillo and Amellio Encenias.
The armed surly band were feasting on steaks that came from a freshly-killed beef, that clearly sported the Martinez brand. The cowhand had inadvertently ridden to his doom, these trespassers were killers and thieves.
Lore and fact have it, Chavez and Vialpando had been members of Vincente Silva’s gang, which was known to the locals as, “La Gavila De Silva” or “Silva’s Forty Bandits.” Silva’s lair was located in Las Vegas, New Mexico at the Imperial Bar. The Las Vegas Historic Foundation has preserved the outlaw’s old headquarters at 225 Moreno Street.
Upon Silva’s murder in 1893, his gang broke apart. Leaderless, Silva’s thugs now rode the Southwest, pillaging and murdering.
THE SHOWDOWN -- FACTS & MYTHS
There are different versions of how Martinez came to ruin. According to archival reports, while at the campfire, thirty two year old Martinez was overpowered and disarmed by the two elder bandits. While playing cat-and-mouse with their prisoner, Chavez and Vialpando ordered their young accomplices, Encenias and Trujillo to ride down a snow-covered trail that led to Las Vegas, New Mexico. It was understood that the two lead bandits and their prisoner would catch up with the young kowtowed tandem shortly.
Away from the campfire Encenias and Trujillo heard three-to-four gunshots. When Chavez and Vialpando caught up with the young men, they were told Martinez had been murdered. If anything was said they would be shot down.
The rancher had been shot twice in the back and once in the temple. The murdered man’s body was then cremated. As for Gallardo, the dog had been shot in the head.
Other version (Legends) of that lethal January 20th meeting has Martinez; a married man and a father of three girls and one boy, not being disarmed or captured. The brave cowboy died, guns blazing, as he tried to defend himself.
Martinez rode up to the campfire early in the morning and confronted the strangers about killing one of his father’s cows. Harsh words were exchanged between Vialpando and Chavez, while frightened Encenias and Trujillo stayed mute.
The senior banditos laughed at the rancher’s notion of paying for the slaughtered beef. The gunslingers were above man’s laws. Martinez saw that Encenias and Trujillo were in the power of the two senior outlaws and ordered the teens to head for his father’s ranch house. Another tale has it that the young duo decided to leave the campfire on their own accord because they knew the confrontation was going to become deadly.
Angry at being called on their wanton thievery, and seeing that their two underlings were leaving them, Chavez and Vialpando readied themselves for a gunfight. Martinez was out of luck. He was alone – facing two men who knew no limits. The cowboy tried to move away from the bandits, but he was gunned down as he defended himself. None of the brave man’s shots hit home.
Seeing his master fall, Gallardo rushed the gunmen. The dog let out a yelp as it was hit in the head by one of the bad men’s bullets. The howling animal regained its feet and ran into the trees.
Yet another tale of the quasi-embellished account has Martinez realizing that he was doomed if gunplay was going to determine who was dead wrong. When the outlaws saw the concern in the Santa Fean’s eyes, they feasted on the energy of intimidation before they killed the range rider.
I have my doubts about the folklore-details of this duel. However, sometimes wives tales proves to be the bare bones truth.
After killing Martinez the evil men finished their meal and searched the corpse for money. The man killers then used the cowboy’s body as kindling, as they turned the campfire into a bonfire.
While researching this story, old timers have pointed out to me the ensconced Satanic ramifications of this crime. The oldsters claim that the cremation of a murder victim is an act filled with demonic symbolism.
Forensic wana-bees disagree with the old bloods’ ideas that Martinez’s immolation was linked to some type of Black Mass offering. Modern sleuths think, yesteryears evildoers are just like today’s criminals. The bad guys do not want anything found at a crime scene that can be used as evidence against them.
Chavez and Vialpando were confident they had cheated justice. After all, the only witnesses to the murder were their two intimidated stooges and a dying dog. Little did they know how Gallardo was going to turn the tables on them.
With great effort Gallardo made his way back to his master’s ranch house. At the homestead, Maximilian, dropped his barn tools and ran to the approaching whimpering dog. Gallardo’s wound was quickly bandaged.
Knowing something terrible had happened to his older brother, Maximilian readied himself for a search and a possible gunfight. Revived by food and water, Gallardo ran after mounted Maximilian who was following as best he could the drops of blood on the ground and snow that marked Gallardo’s homeward trek. Maximillian reasoned that he would find his brother in the area of where Gallardo had been shot. By barks and movement Gallardo would signal to Maximillian, when the cowboy lost track of the route.
Late that afternoon, Gallardo, weak from loss of blood, managed to lead Maximilian to the outlaws’ deserted campsite. Maximilian searched the gullies and glades. His calls of, “Yell out – I will find you,” were met with silence.
As the brush and surrounding area was reconnoitered, Gallardo began sniffing at the camp’s warm bonfire pit. Seeing how Gallardo was burning his paws in the hot ash and now fearing the worst. Maximilian dug through the embers and found a boot heel and his brother’s blackened leg and pelvic bone.
The authorities in Santa Fe were notified and posses were organized. Sheriff William Cunningham and his constables tracked Martinez’s murderers from the spent bonfire with a vengeance. At times snowfalls obliterated the bad men’s tracks, but the lawmen would not give up the chase.