mercilessly edited, probably by a Hoy relative who either feared libel suits from the people in Brown’s Park or who believed that the old man had unjustly blackened his neighbors’ names. The manuscript contains only the barest information on his Brown’s Park days, and no particularly specific accusations have survived the censor’s scissors. Even in its expurgated form, however, it clearly shows that J. S. Hoy felt that most of his neighbors were thieves and rustlers and that the worst ones were the Herrera brothers and Elizabeth Bassett.
While the manuscript contains mentions of “the Bassett gang,” Elizabeth herself is mentioned only once. After a censorship of several pages, one sentence remains which condemns as it excuses: “In fairness to Elizabeth Bassett it must be said that . . . “ There follows a moving paragraph on the hardships women endured in pioneer life.
Whatever the Hoys’ opinions of Elizabeth, tradition says that her fellow ranchers admired her spunk, her ability, and her leadership. Among the ranchers, Elizabeth’s voice was respected. As for Herb, they thought enough of him to elect him their representative on the county commission of Routt County in 1882. County records show his $5000 bond was made by Pablo Herrera, Anton Prestopitz, and Griff Edwards. He evidently served only one term, for in those days it was impractical for Brown’s Park to be represented at regular county meetings held three days’ journey away at Hahn’s Peak. However, from 1884 until his resignation in 1892, Herb still represented authority in the Colorado part of the Park, for he was appointed justice of the peace, with Griff Edwards and Solomon Rouff as his bondsmen.
Indeed, Herb was a leader in many community affairs. His education was broad enough that he could give good advice on subjects affecting the ranchers’ welfare. While they might think him a poor sort with cattle, they never questioned the integrity of this man who, on many a Sunday morning after an all-night Brown’s Park party, would lead the hymns and conduct a simple religious service for this churchless community.
Even after the early days of building, Herb Bassett took no active part in running the cattle and bossing the cowboys; that was Elizabeth’s bailiwick. Even though Herb’s health returned and he lived to be very old, it is hard to picture this quiet little man, who had always been a clerical worker, directing six-foot cowboys at roundup time.
Equally incongruous might be the picture of a woman in a sidesaddle bossing six-foot cowboys. Elizabeth was a successful manager, however, using that famous “Bassett charm” the old-timers speak of. She did not issue orders; she made requests, and she accompanied them with a warm, very feminine smile. Skeptical cowboys soon found that they had an efficient boss who would work right along with them. She had put in her apprenticeship before they had arrived and had learned her lessons well. One woman who knew her said, “She was as good a cowhand as any man.”
In Where the Old West Stayed Young, John Rolfe Burroughs writes:
It is impossible to overemphasize the loyalty that Mrs. Bassett inspired in the breasts of the homeless and oftentimes outlawed young men, any one of whom it is said “willingly would have died and gone to hell for her.” If high strung, she was a strong-willed, self-controlled woman not at all motivated by romantic considerations. But such was her vitality, her personal magnetism, and her sympathetic understanding of the essential loneliness of her footloose constituency that men willingly flocked to her standard.
Elizabeth was too practical to rely on only that “personal magnetism,” which was, after all, instinctive and not contrived. More important, she gave her men the privilege of building their own herds so that a man could work for himself as well as for the Bassetts. This attracted the ambitious, for many outfits had halted the practice, believing that it tempted the poorly paid cowhands to change a few brands for their own benefit.
Equally important from a human standpoint, she welcomed her ranch hands almost as guests within her family circle. Her bunkhouse was comfortable and her food was good. If a man liked to read, Herb’s library was available. If he enjoyed children, the Bassetts could supply him with five, of assorted ages. Ann Bassett has described bucking contests where each small child had for a bronco a cowboy who would do his best to throw his rider into the clean hay strewn in a makeshift arena.
Aside from the fact that Elizabeth was a good cowhand and a good range boss and Herb was not, Herb’s complete separation from the cattle side of the ranch was possibly because he disapproved of the way Elizabeth was running things. Herb was a deeply religious man with a strong moral sense; moreover, in Arkansas he had been an officer of the court, sworn to uphold the law. It could be that he refused to have anything to do with any activities smacking of illegality, no matter how Elizabeth and the neighboring ranchers might justify them.
An example of the opposing attitudes of husband and wife is the story Ann tells of the day on which one of their cowhands, Jack Rollas, was shot:
He was a pleasant-mannered young fellow from Texas who came to the Bassett Ranch in 1882. A good hand with horses, he was hired to break broncs on the ranch. It was in the late fall of that year that three strange men arrived about noon, and were asked to eat dinner with the family. While Mrs. Jaynes, who cooked for us at the time, was preparing the meal, one of the strangers asked her if Jack worked there. Mrs. Jaynes replied, “Yes, that is Jack saddling a horse at the corral.” The three men walked from the kitchen and went on down to the corral. One of them pulled a gun and shot Rollas as he was reaching for a bridle. He ran behind a barn, where he fell, mortally wounded.
The ranch hands, Herb, and Elizabeth managed to get the men at gunpoint while Mrs. Jaynes rushed out and gathered the children into the shelter of an outbuilding. Rollas had been carried into the bunkhouse, and the furious Elizabeth marched the marauders in to confront him.
The one who had done the shooting said his name was Hambleton and that Rollas had shot and killed his brother in Abilene, Kansas. Hambleton had trailed Jack Rollas for two years to kill him. Rollas confirmed Hambleton’s statement in part, explaining that a man of that name had married his sister. He abused the sister and Rollas had killed for it.
Mother spiritedly informed Hambleton that it was not the custom of the northwest to shoot an unarmed man in the back. By the determined threat of her leveled Winchester, she lined the trio up against the bunkhouse wall, and directed the wounded Rollas to kill his assassin, or all three men, if he wanted to.
Rollas was too weak to hold a gun, and he died a few hours later. While mother and Mrs. Jaynes were administering to the dying cowboy, father and Perry were guarding the prisoners. Harry Hindle went to notify the settlers of the park, and to get Charles Allen, Justice of the Peace, to the scene of the crime. [This was before Herb’s own appointment as justice of the peace.] Night came and father began to think with deepening apprehension. A lynching could be in the making. He advised the captives to go to the barn and feed their horses, and he warned them to ride directly to the county seat, over a hundred miles away, and surrender themselves to the law. When neighbors arrived at the Bassett ranch, the murderer and his companions had escaped. Naturally, they failed to do as father had instructed, and were never heard of again. . . . The method subscribed to by father in the matter of advice to the shooters would have been in direct conflict with the opinion of mother and Mrs. Jaynes. Therefore, he did not commit himself and tell the true story for some time afterwards. . . . [italics added].
Although Ann’s accounts of Brown’s Park life are sometimes slightly colored, Elizabeth’s domination and Herb’s subservience in this instance have a ring of unvarnished truth.
While Elizabeth was undoubtedly the head of the Bassett family, J. S. Hoy exaggerates when he calls her head of a “gang.” (As far as is known, the term “Bassett gang” was used only by Hoy, not by other contemporaries.) She was primarily a rancher managing a herd of legitimately acquired cattle which was increased by calves from legitimately owned cows. It is unbelievable that this woman, this gentlewoman, was a “night rider”
