Historic Temple

LAW ENFORCEMENT: TAMING THE IMPOSSIBLE
Law enforcement was an issue in Temple from day one. “It was at a time when the town was as much of a night operation as
of day,” reported the Temple Daily Telegram in 1923, “when the gambling houses, the saloon and the accompanying auxiliaries of
these were in the saddle; when the railroad construction forces still came back to Temple to blow in their money and when men
quick on the trigger made this their stamping ground.”
The first murder was a transient painter named McDonald, who was shot in Bigham’s Saloon. Someone else murdered another
man by hanging him on the Eighth Street Bridge over Knob Creek in 1884. His death remains unsolved.
Unfortunately, passing trains and vulnerable passengers were easy prey for outlaws. Robberies and hold-ups were frequent,
especially in the outlying rural areas. The Temple Times reported that Angus McKenzie, a night-train engineer, thwarted a holdup
as the train speeded at full-steam. McKenzie opened the firebox as the gunman approached, and the firebox flames blasted the
crook’s face. Then McKenzie pushed him off the train at full throttle. For his bravery, the railroad company awarded the engineer
a gold watch for risking his life to save the train.
Taming a city took peace officers with a rare combination of tact and force. As city marshal from 1885 to 1897, Marshal
William Taylor was credited with piloting Temple during its transition from “wild and wooly” to “a semblance of control by the
elements which frowned on the wide-open features of the town,” according to the Daily Telegram.
During Taylor’s twelve years, bandits twice attempted rob the Missouri-Kansas-Texas Railway passenger train within the city
limits. In the 1880s up until the 1920s, marshals dealt with fugitive monkeys, dancing bears, escaped circus animals, and the
usual bunch of hooligans—pickpockets, gamblers, streetwalkers, and over-imbibing revelers. To solve his problem, Taylor put
many tramps on boxcars headed to Galveston, but the port city’s chief of police later wrote and asked the city to cease and desist.
Early in his career, Taylor and his deputies nabbed a gang of Temple-based train robbers who had plagued several M-K-T trains,
randomly shooting victims as they looted passengers and cargos. The Temple Times reported the desperados “had been promiscuous
in their shooting.” After a six-month investigation, Taylor arrested five suspects, and one of them, “Dead-Eye” Buckhanan,
turned state’s evidence against his cronies.
At first, town marshals handled police duties. Revenues from fines covered their salaries. Training was almost non-existent.
Crimes and misdemeanors kept marshals busy. In 1891 alone, deputies investigated 793 complaints and only 13 scofflaws
escaped before they could be prosecuted.
Taylor had had a varied, adventuresome career, which probably gave him skills to deal with undesirable characters. Before he
took the marshal’s job, he worked as a cowboy and a butcher. After he left law enforcement, he spent two years gold prospecting
in Klondike, Alaska. Returning home, he operated a funeral home, which was probably a good career choice, considering the lawlessness
of the early days.
❖
A steam locomotive pulls into the
former Santa Fe Depot, which was
torn down to make way for the
present depot, constructed in 1910.
The back of this postcard reads: “This
is the 438 that killed Jim Sealy.” 438
refers to the locomotive.
COURTESY OF THE CANNON/BENOIT COLLECTION.
52 ✦ HISTORIC TEMPLE