GERONIMO AND MAZZANOVICH

APACHE INDIAN CAMPAIGNS

The War Department records Adjutant General's Office, Washington indicate that Anton Mazzanovich, born in Austria, occupation schoolboy, aged 11 years, enlisted January 29, 1870, at San Francisco California; that he was assigned to the band, 21st United States Infantry, and that he was honorably discharged August 11, 1873, at Fort Vancouver, Washington, per War Department Special Order No. 151 of 1873, a private. He again enlisted February 10, 1881, at San Francisco , California; was assigned to Troop M, 6th United States Calvary; was same regiment to the band on March 1, 1881, and to Troop F, of the same regiment on August 21, 1881, and was honorably discharged July 10, 1882, at Fort Grant, Arizona Territory, on account of disability, a private. Anton Mazzanovich served in campaign against the Apache Indians in 1881. He was a member of General George Crook's Camp Association, Arizona Pioneers Historical Society and Life Companion of the Order of Indian Wars of the United States, Washington D.C.. His arrival in America and enlistment is best stated in his own words: "I was born on Hvar, Province of Dalmatia, Austria, ( now Croatia) April 30, 1860. At the age of eight years my people emigrated to America, landing at Castle Garden, New York, in October, 1868. Our stay here was brief, for on December 24,1868, we arrived to San Francisco, California, the gateway to the 'Wild and Woolly West'. I enlisted in the army as a musician , January 29, 1870, at San Francisco. I was discharged at the request of my father Lorenz Mazzanovich, to enable me to assist in the support of the family. I consider myself to be the youngest soldier, probably , that ever enlisted in the Regular Army, being but nine years and nine months of age at the time of my enlistment. During the Modoc Indian War of 1872 and 1873 I was considered too young to go to the front, so was detailed as orderly to the commanding officer at Fort Granger, Commanding. My second enlistment occurred February 10, 1881, At San Francisco, California. I was assigned to Troop M, Sixth Calvary, and was transferred to the band of that regiment on March 1, 1881, and to Troop T, same regiment, August 11, 1881. I was discharged July 10, 1882, at Fort Grant, Arizona Territory, because of disability. My papers give my character as 'Excellent'. At the outbreak of the Spanish-American War I tried to join the pack train service in Duba, but I never heard anything further regarding the matter. I also rendered my services to the Secretary of War during World War I. I am ready at all times to fall in at the call of 'boots and saddles', and would gladly meet the great adventure in the defense of my adopted country and the Stars and Stripes." The Mazzanovich family were musicians upon coming to San Francisco in 1868. Lorenzo and Lena Mazzanovich listed on the United States Census of population in 1870 in Los Angeles with four children. Anton,1860; John,1856; Paul, 1858; and Lena, 1869. All were born in Dalmatia except Lena. One son John, was employed at the Grand Opera House and the famed Bella Union Theatre in San Francisco. They were members of the Slavonic Illyric Mutual and Benevolent Society of San Francisco, organized for less than a year, the family moved to Los Angeles. They are considered Croatian Pioneers of that city and amongst its earliest residents. The Mazzanovich family was the first Dalmatian family to settle in Los Angeles, although other Croatian pioneers did come earlier with families, having married women other than Croatian nationality. A L. Mazzanovich was a volunteer musician in the Slavonian Rifles, 1st Company, Louisiana Volunteers, Confederate Army of 1861.

Apache Campaign

During 1881 it was reported that the White Mountain Apaches were getting ready to go out on the warpath and that trouble would likely ensue. Meantime affairs at the White Mountain Apache reservation were becoming more and more serious. One of their medicine men , known as Nokay-de-Klinne, was going from camp to camp on the reservation, telling the Indians that on August 31,1881, all the Indians who had died, would return to earth again. All were to then meet in Tonto Basin, and start from there to wipe the hated paleface from the land. At every camp were the medicine man stopped, the Indians held war dances, and almost all the bucks joined him as he went around endeavoring to foment trouble. At that season of the year the Indian agents would issue passes to the White Mountain and Ciricahua Apaches located on the White Mountains and San Carlos reservations, with permission to hunt and raise corn on the banks of Cibicu, Caraiso, and Cedar Creeks. They were holding dances nightly for three months. These dances started at Apache then circulated to Cadar and Careiso, and Cedar Creeks, and eventually wound up at Cibicu Creek which was located some fifty miles from Fort Apache. Colonel Carr in command of Troops D and E, Sixth Calvary captured the medicine man and placed him under arrest chiefs Bonito, Nana and Sanchez asked Colonel Carr why the medicine man, Nikay-de-Kline was placed under arrest. He advised orders came from the War department. The medicine man attempted escape, but was shot with three bullets through head. In a short time pandemonium seemed to have broken loose. All the Indians on the reservation joined the hostiles and started on the warpath. They surrounded the Fort, opened fire, cut the Government telegraph wire, and Fort Apache was cut off from all outside communication.

Mazzanovich's Troop broke camp and started for the Gila River, which was running high. After numerous attempts to cross, the lieutenant asked Mazzanovich if he could get the horses across. By nightfall Mazzanovich managed to get all the animals across and they again took up march for the relief of Fort Apache. The Fort was found intact. A few days later Chief Ju, Bonito and Sanchez, with about two hundred Indians surrendered. Mazzanovich was detailed as Spanish interpreter while the Chiefs agreed to lead the Troopers to the hostiles. On the trail Mazzanovich sHared his tobacco with the Chiefs and remarked :" Mucho bueno hombre". An Indian scout brought the news that Chiricahua apache, led by Geronimo had gone on the warpath. Information brought by the scout indicated that Geronimo had gone over the Mexican lines into Sonora. Later, the Troop was informed that Chiefs Nana and Geronimo returned to the reservation. It was agreed that the Indians were to be given rations prior to surrender. In Mazzanovich's own words the following is related: "About three P.M. they were all out of sight, although we could see the smoke of their campfires coming up from behind a hollow in the foothills. Shortly thereafter, Geronimo rode into camp with half a dozen braves, and asked Lieutenant Overton if he could allow him one hour more, as he wanted to see if the tribe got what was coming to them. Three o'clock was the time that had been agreed upon as the time for surrender. The Lieutenant wired Colonel Carr for instructions. I happened to be standing alongside Geronimo's pony and when old rascal was not looking, I tried to nip one of the silver trinkets which dangled from his buckskin saddlebag: but I failed, as he caught me in the act. Geronimo was a fine specimen of the Apache Indian, with high cheekbones, a very determined face, straight mouth, thin lips. On this occasion he was all 'dolled up' in his best, with a long war bonnet, the feathers of which trailed down on each side of his pony. As we were waiting we saw Colonel Forsythe and his troops fording a river . It was a tense moment. Everybody drew a long breath of expectancy. Colonel Carr's instructions were to give Geronimo one hour. In a brief time Colonel Forsythe came up and assumed command of the outfit. At four o'clock Geronimo had not shown up. We waited about ten minutes; then Colonel Forsythe ordered troops of the calvary to ride toward the Indian camp to ascertain what was detaining him. Upon reaching the camp we discovered that that the wily old chief had pulled stakes and left. All we found was twelve old bucks and squaws, and a great many dogs, tied up in small bunches, to the mesquite tree." When the troop arrived back at camp they were advised to make a forced march from the sub-agency to Fort Thomas , a distance of twenty-two miles. They reached Fort Thomas after midnight and were informed by some cowboys that Mexican and two cowpunchers were killed the previous night. Geronimo had his band had set out for Black Rock. This was situated at the head of the Galiuro Mountains, and served as an Indian stronghold when they were hard pressed. The following morning the Calvary started toward Black Rock. After reaching the Indian stronghold they headed for a pass over the Galiuro Mountains. After an hours ride they picked up the trail. They now reached the base of the Grahams Mountains Range and found a large wagon train with eight dead Mexican mule skinners. The Indians were heading into Graham Canyon. On approaching the Canyon two dead soldiers were seen on the other side of the ravine. When they reached the dead, they suddenly realized a trap was set. The Indians opened fire from ambush laid at the mound of the Canyon.

Deadly Combat with Apaches

Mazzanovich in his own words relates the battle "This was the first time that I was ever under fire, and in the excitement I lost my can of peaches and side of bacon. Then came another volley! Fortunately, no one was hit, but some of the leaden missiles seemed to come mighty close -too close for real comfort. There we were a fine group ! I know I had a creepy feeling and expected to be sent to the 'happy hunting grounds' almost any second. Armstrong mounted and shouted, 'Boys, we must make a dash to reach the command'. By this time the firing was steady, and the bullets made a peculiar and decidedly unpleasant sound. We started out there 'muy pronto.' The going was fine, the ground level, and we fairly flew ! Every man was on his horse. We could see that Troops A and F had crossed the ravine and come to a halt. When we reached them the order was, 'Left into line! Dismount! Count fours! Numbers one, two and three step ten paces to the front! Number four hold horses1 We then spread out in a long line about fifteen feet apart, and commenced to advance toward the mouth of the canyon. When the Indians first opened fire on us we were I should judge, about 400 yards from them, and when the skirmish line was formed the distance to the mouth of the canyon was about 1500 yards. The order was to advance in double-quick time until we were within 1000 yards. Major Sanford with the two troops was crossing over, so our line moved to the right, allowing his men to fill the gap between us and the ravine to our left. By this time I was calm and collected. The peculiar feeling I had undergone when we were first fired on, had all disappeared. We could locate none of the Indians, as they were all under cover; so the only thing to do was to watch for a puff of smoke and fire at that. When the Indians commenced to get the a bead on our line, we would advance fifteen paces forward. It was evident that they made a good target. I think it was between two and three in the afternoon when the savages opened fire on us, on that first day of October 1881. Orders were given to save our ammunition , as each man had only sixty rounds, and the officers did not know when the pack-train would overtake us. My lips and mouth were as dry as parchment , of that can of peaches I had let slip. It then occurred to me to try some of the candy which I had stowed away in my blouse pocket. However, it did not relieve my thirst ; in fact, it seemed to aggravate it. Overton asked for two volunteers to make a dash for Fort Grant with a message to the commanding officer, requesting reinforcements and a doctor with hospital supplies. Fort Grant was fourteen miles west of our location. Overton selected two men from the batch who volunteered. They went to the rear, mounted their horses and dashed off. The Indians poured a heavy fire after them, as we could see the bullets kicking up the dust around them when they dashed away. We were fully exposed to the fire of the Indians for the ground was level. Sometimes, as we advanced, we would strike a place where the grass was ten or fifteen inches tall; then we would lie down flat. I can't say how close the bullets were dropping, but they certainly made a most ugly sound. Bullets that ricochet make terrible a sound. When a bullet would whistle past with a z-z-zip-z-z-zing ! it was queer how the man would duck their heads. From time to time we moved slowly forward. Our officers were back of the line, moving to-and-fro, so the Indians could not get a bead on them. Buford, our first sergeant, who was on my right, fell. Two of the boys carried him into a clump of tall grass , a bullet had struck him on the thigh. He said he would like a drink of water. Four of our boys gathered some canteens from among the men, and started for the ravine on our left to get water. They were gone some time. When they did return we had moved forward quite a distance. During the time I was on the skirmish line I fired thirty rounds of ammunition, and I wandered if any of the bullets had found a mark. When I got to the horses, one of the boys told me that three men on our left were wounded, but not seriously. Delany was out of sight by this time. Doubtless he had found a good place to get under cover. Private Hunt, of my troop, received a bullet in the foot. As we neared the mouth of the canyon we came to several large rocks or round boulders. Hunt had been using one as a shield Lieutenant Glass took his carbine and put it out of commission by bending the barrel over a rock. Hunt then started to crawl to the rear. When the men returned with the water one of them went to find Sergeant Buford and give him a drink; but on reaching the spot, poor Buford was found to be dead. My rain clothe and extra saddle blanket , which were strapped behind my saddle, received a bullet, an short time afterward one of the horses I was holding was struck in the hind leg by a bullet. We were now about one hundred yards from the two dead soldiers, and perhaps three hundred yards from the mouth of the ravine or canyon. The entrance spread out like a fan, and in the center was a small rocky knoll. Its highest point was about two hundred feet . The Indians were stationed at the back of it. I was under the impression that Indians were good shots. However, they had only begun to use rifles about two years previously, and had not yet learned how to handle them with any particular degree of accuracy. At this point the shooting slackened considerably. No doubt wise old Geronimo was also husbanding his ammunition. The pack train was not yet in sight, nor were the surgeons, and there were wounded men needing treatment. We moved forward toward the mouth of the canyon much faster. I was standing in the bed of a creek, which was wide and shallow, full of pebbles and gravel, and while the shooting was going on all around me, I managed to roll a few cigarettes an enjoy a smoke from time to time.

Wounded

Finally a bullet struck me in the tight about the knee. The pain was terrible. I was afraid to look down or feel the wound, but imagined that the blood was trickling down my leg. I was trembling like a leaf , and so dry that it seemed as if I could drink a gallon of water. When I finally made an investigation, I discovered that I had been hit by a spent bullet! In fact, the slug was lying on top of the gravel at my feet. The pain soon commenced to relax. On closer examination I found that the force of the slug had split the skin, and it was bleeding slightly. The scar is still with me to this day , and every time I look at it I am reminded of my first fight with the Indians. Two more men on my right side were soon after wounded. Our skirmish line had closed in so that the men were not but five or six feet apart. A few more cowpunchers joined us. They had found, on passing the wagon train, one live Mexican. He had been shot through the leg. He told the boys that the Indians went about among the dead mule skinners and relieved them of their cartridge belts and Winchester rifles. When thy came to him, he was lying faced down 'playing possum'. One of the Indians ran the barrel of his long Tom rifle under him, rolled him back again into his cartridge belt , then rolled him back again into his former position. He had lain thus he heard the shooting, and had then started to crawl toward the sound. The cowboys assisted him to get below our lines. I was now almost six o'clock and no pack-train in sight as yet. Our ammunition was getting low. I had to give up the thirty rounds in my belt for use on the firing line. In fact, all the troopers who were holding horses did the same. Soon we observed a column of dust on our right , and we concluded it was reinforcements coming from Fort Grant. In half an hour more we took possession of the knoll. The Indians then retreated further into the canyon. All the horse holders took their stations at the base of the knoll. Some of our men on the right had not come up. The grass at this point was high. It was dangerous for any for any of them to make a run for cover , as it was sure to draw a heavy fire from the Indians. Lieutenant Overton went up the knoll and started to give the men directions, in an effort to get them under cover. Finally we saw the pack-train on the flat below us; also the company of Indian scouts. "Mickey" O'Hara, an Irishman ( of course), was in charge of the mules. Overton sent him word to bring up two boxes of cartridges , then turned his attention toward trying to get the men on our right under the protection of the knoll. Some of the men made a dash. The Indians opened a galling fire. Overton shouted, "Down, men, down!" The nearest man reeled over as if shot, and Overton remarked, 'Too bad! Poor fellow!' Boss packer O'Hara came up , leading a mule with two boxes of cartridges and started to get them off with the help of two men. A case of cartridges contains 1000 rounds, twenty cartridges in each package. It was a peculiar situation in which we found ourselves. We had been fighting a foe all the afternoon without a fair chance of hitting an Indian, because they were all under cover and concealed from view. Lieutenant Bailey was struck, but the ball hit his cartridge belt and did no harm. Soon the reinforcements from Fort Grant arrived, with two government ambulances, water and medical supplies. Captain J.B.Gerard, the post surgeon , came with them and immediately started in to care for the wounded. Drs. Adler and Skinner were both now on hand as well. We had eleven wounded men mostly flesh wounds, with the exception of Hunt , of my company , and the Mexican. Both the latter were in bad way from loss of blood. Lieutenant Bailey did not bring up our Indian scouts, as he would not trust them, so they were held in the rear. The sun soon began to sink behind the mountains and the shooting slackened. Some of the men were sent down the flat to find Sergeant Buford's body and bring it up. He was a fine chap; a strong, handsome fellow, and he was killed serving his country, for the benefit of an unborn generation, so that life, in that wild Arizona country, could be one of unannoyed security, peace and happiness. He died as worthy soldier, proud to the last in the belief that he was faithfully serving his country and flag. The wounded horse which I had to leave behind was Sergeant Buford's mount so I was informed by one of the troopers. The Indians cut the Government telegraph wire between Fort Grant and Fort Thomas. Lieutenant Maus, stationed at fort Grant at that time, was in command of the Signal Corps. He ordered four men out to locate the break, and they did not return. We found two of them. Doubtless the other were also lying dead somewhere. We were compelled to omit our 'chow' that evening and go hungry which reminded me again of that side of bacon and can of peaches. It was now eight o'clock, and there was only an occasional shot from the Indians; but every time our men could see the flash of gun, twenty or thirty of them would blaze away in that direction. At nine o'clock we could see signal fires across Sulphur Springs Valley. The squaws were letting old Geronimo know that they had crossed. Doubtless, by this time, the Indians were slipping away , one by one, using the bottom of the ravine which kept them out of sight. The last shot from the canyon was fired a short time after we saw the signal fires across the valley. The men were now called from the firing line on the knoll, and we began to get ready for our start for Fort Grant. Some time previously a messenger was sent back to the post , advising the commanding officers to order food prepared for the men when they came in. The dead were placed on pack-mules. The wounded were made as comfortable as possible, and placed in ambulances. At ten o'clock we started, and arrived at the post at 12.30. After pacing our jaded mounts in corral we marched to the mess room. This was our first meal since we broke camp early in the morning. After I had finished eating I attended to my eyes and adjusted a bandage over the wound made by the spent bullet. I then crawled in between my blankets and slept as sound as a dollar.

After this battle

The Troop followed Geronimo to the South Pass , Dragoon Mountains. Another battle took place on October 4th , 1881. Geronimo later slipped away over the range. Shortly twelve men rode into the camp and said they had come over the range from Tombstone. They had seen no Indians. Among them were Wyatt Earp and his brother; Doc Holliday and Ike Clanton. All these men had the reputation of being 'quick on the draw'." By this time Mazzanovich's eyes were in very bad shape and he was ordered to the frontier town of Willcox. It was a great disappointment to him as he expected to follow Geronimo into Old Sonora, Mexico. In Willcox the doctor informed the commanding officer that ,"Private Anton Mazzanovich is not fit for any duty." He was assigned to a hospital tent. Later that day he wanted to see the sights of the town and heard the Southern Pacific west bound train was coming in with many "Green horn" passengers. Perhaps his Dalmatian business heritrage got the best of him, as he had collected many Indian trinkets, beads and buckskin saddlebags in the last two campaigns and managed to sell the lot to passengers for $ 310, more money than he earned serving Uncle Sam in two years. He then took in the sights of the town and bought some underwear and silk handkerchiefs, a pound tin of Vanity Fair tobacco and cigarette papers. Later he played at the faro table in a saloon and won $275; at the stud-poker table he won $75; and then lost $40 at the Mexican monte layout.

The Saloon

Mazzanovich later ran a saloon in a mining town called Shakespeare, about three miles from Lordsburg, New Mexico. During another Indian uprising in 1885. he joined the New Mexico rangers . It would be a lengthy task to record all his travels and deeds. He does state that Geronimo and his band were never captured they surrendered voluntarily and of their own will. It is indeed unusual to find an Indian fighter , frontiersman, saloon-keeper, ranger and cowboy by the name of "Mazzanovich", but not again so strange when the story of the hardy Dalmatian pioneer in the West is researched and made a part of the American West.

Gambling

As a last remark of all remarkable pioneers: "Mention is made of gambling. I don't want to hold this against me; for in the days when the Empire of the West was in the making, conditions and the standards of morals were very different from those of the present day. Gambling was no more thought of against a man than going to the theatre, automobiling, dancing, or any of the other conventional modern forms of amusement. The leading men of any western community could be found in the gambling halls with no more discredit than if they were found in a club or hotel lobby today. There has been a great change in public opinion. The individual of today must stand or fall by his own efforts not to be courting lady luck. I have seen what rattlesnakes and gambling can do to men. My warning to our future generation included every form of gambling. Never attempt to get something for nothing. I beg you, dear friends, to let my advice sink in deep and when your efforts in life are crowned with success, when you have cashed in on your talent and qualification, not your luck you will think kindly of the Old Rounder who was not afraid to advise you."

REFERENCES: Mazzanovich, Anton. Trailing Geronimo. Los Angeles: Haynes Corp. 1931.