“Soiled Dove”. Photo courtesy Bill Kelly.

From the Ringo Kid’s girlfriend Claire in Stagecoach, through Miss Kitty in television’s Gunsmoke, to the waif-like Diane Lane in Lonesome Dove the prostitute has been among the more enduring images of the literary and cinematic West. She was called “soiled dove”, “shady lady”, “fallen woman,” “lost sister”, “saloon belle”, and a host of other appellations. She was quite simply the ubiquitous whore, and her portrait has been painted on many different canvases and in a generous and imaginative assortment of colors.

She was the fallen woman with a heart of gold, selfless to a fault and ready at a moment’s notice to do good for those in need. She was the woman with a heart of ice, ready to deceive, cheat, steal and murder for her lover, her husband or her pimp (often one and the same). She was the innocent waif forced into a degraded life by circumstances beyond her control and ultimately rescued from her degradation by a passing cowboy, lawman, miner, or prospector who fell in love with her and selflessly ignored her past.

She was the successful madam who ran a string of whores in a magnificent Victorian mansion on the edge of town and catered to the community’s well-to-do and “respectable” men. Or, conversely, she put her “girls” in a wagon and dragged them from mining camp to mining camp and often became wealthy in the bargain. She was, though not too often, a woman who found a vocation she liked and pursued it with gusto, enjoying both the hours and the remuneration. She was, in point of fact, what our mixture of fact and fantasy made of her. She was an almost perfect blend of myth, legend and history.

As the nineteenth century waned and the frontier passed, prostitution came under closer scrutiny from reform-minded individuals and institutions. In 1913 the American Federation for Sex Hygiene and the National Vigilance Association merged to form the American Social Hygiene Association (ASHA), a blend of reformers and regulationists (the noun “activism” entered the English language shortly thereafter, in 1915). The essential division within the new organization was between the abolitionists who demanded eradication of what they considered to be a great social evil and the sanitarians who wanted to regulate the health of prostitutes in order to curb the spread of venereal disease.

The arguments within ASHA over prostitution soon made their way into the discourse of the general public, and on the eve of World War I the United States Army was faced with the question of what to do about the presence of prostitutes near Army installations. Officers within the Army itself were divided over the issue. Some insisted that hard work and regular exercise would curb the sexual appetites of the soldiers; others believed that men needed access to women if high morale was to be achieved and maintained. In the pre-World War I military action along the Mexican border triggered by Francisco Villa’s 1916 raid on Columbus, New Mexico, General John “Black Jack” Pershing came down on the side of regulation.

In Columbus, Pershing decided to permit regulated prostitution near Camp Furlong as long as the Army and representatives of the town cooperated to control the business. Troop morale and curbing the spread of VD were paramount in Pershing’s view, and by the end of July 1916 a district of several blocks had been established. The district was strictly segregated into white and black sections, and alcohol and firearms were forbidden. Existing whorehouses outside the district were closed, and owners were required to relocate within the district or get out of town. Prostitutes were to be inspected by civilian doctors, and those who were infected were forced to leave.

The mayor of Columbus, T.H. Dabney, (who was also a doctor) worked with a member of the Army Medical Corps to inspect the women once a week. The inspection fee of two dollars was split evenly between Dabney and the corpsman, providing a weekly income of about fifty dollars for each of the two men (a not insignificant sum in those days). The VD rate fell, but occasionally spiked when infected women freelanced in the local saloons before being discovered and expelled. Infected men coming from the countryside were another problem, and in time the base commander decided that infected men were to be treated the same as infected women: they were run out of town by the city marshal.

The women worked either in a house or in a “crib” next to or near a house. In a house each girl greeted her customer in a parlor or “sitting room”, and had either her own room or a shared room in which to entertain her clients. A crib was simply a hut, a shack or a lean-to providing a bit of shelter and privacy. Furniture in the crib was kept to a minimum: a cot, a straw-filled mat or a bedroll was the basic necessity along with a chair and a table to hold a lamp or candle. From detailed Army records we have a rather clear and certainly interesting picture of the “soiled doves” of Columbus. There were fifty recorded prostitutes, thirty-seven white and thirteen black, working in eight houses and a number of assorted cribs. The girls almost always went under a “sporting name” (”Mickey Doyle”, “Dixie Lee”, “Lovie Brown”, “Bobbie White”, “Babe Mularkey”), but willingly gave army inspectors their real names and backgrounds. Some had been “in the trade” or “on the line” for years before coming to Columbus, and others asserted that Columbus was their first experience with prostitution.

The most entrepreneurial of the housekeepers was Myrtle Mitchell. Myrtle, who claimed she was no longer on the line, ran six cribs and a house she leased from Jessie Van Cleave. Jessie had recently arrived from Tucumcari, New Mexico where she had worked as a waitress at the Glenrock Cafe and invested her savings in the house. She was described in the army records as “a large woman 5 ft. 6 in; 178 lbs; 30 years old; fat mushy face; fair complexion [sic] light brown hair; married to a soldier but quit him about 4 years ago, has a boy by first husband who died.” In addition to Myrtle and Jessie, the house was staffed by Katie Stone, AKA Katie Paterson and Jewell Woods, AKA Ruby Russell.

Nell Bowers, who claimed she was never a sporting woman before coming to Columbus from El Paso, ran a house with ten girls. The youngest, Anne Shelton, was twenty-two and had seven years “sporting”. She came to Columbus with her soldier husband who had married her out of a house in Galveston and continued “sporting” while living with him. The oldest, Nellie McCamant AKA Bessie, was thirty-five, and “was on line formerly for about 4 years, but married and quit the business, though she did some hustling while she was married, with knowledge of husband.” The others were in their twenties, and if the Army reports are correct they were experienced in the trade.

In what the Army called the “Negro District”, Mamie Williams managed a house with twelve prostitutes who ranged in age from twenty-two to thirty-two. In contrast to the white prostitutes, the black women apparently used no sporting names (if the Army records are correct). Only one, Audrey Taussig, claimed to have had no time in the sporting trade prior to coming to Columbus. Audrey’s husband was with Pershing’s troops in Mexico, and she decided that the “sporting life” was the best way to earn a living while he was gone. Most of the girls came from Texas, and there was one each from Pocatello, Idaho, Cincinnati, Ohio and New Orleans, Louisiana.

Even when controlled as it was in Columbus, the presence of prostitution presented a number of problems, not the least of which was the widespread use of alcohol and other drugs. The Army’s concern with prostitution was disease, which if not controlled could seriously hamper military efficiency. Liquor, on the other had, had the potential to create an environment unfavorable to good discipline. In the War Department’s Annual Report, 1916, the Surgeon General stated that “Alcohol and military efficiency have nothing in common.” With that thought in mind the Army first persuaded the Trustees of Columbus to limit the sale of alcohol to “near beer”, and then persuaded the village authorities to endorse a policy of total prohibition.

Prohibition in turn gave rise to illicit distillation and smuggling, and the Army and civil authorities were hard-pressed to control the problem. The border was patrolled and vehicles and trains were searched, but alcohol and drugs (opium and cocaine for the most part) still found their way to the whorehouses and cribs. The prostitutes found that alcohol enlivened their often-dreary lives and drugs made having sex with any man off the street bearable. Despite all the efforts of the Army and civil authority, prostitution, alcohol, and drugs formed a triad that was for all practical purposes unbreakable.

Prostitution for troops stationed in Columbus and for those encamped in Mexico was, in Pershing’s view, a necessary service in order to maintain an acceptable level of good morale. The great enemy of military discipline and morale is idleness among the troops, and it was the idleness of both garrison life along the border and encampment in Mexico that led men into alcohol and drug abuse. Prostitution as regulated in Columbus and in the encampments of the Punitive Expedition in Mexico provided no great challenge to the order and discipline so necessary to military units. Alcohol and drugs, however, continued to be a problem, as they both proved difficult to control.

With the return of the Punitive Expedition from Mexico in 1917 and the departure of National Guard troops as they were released from active duty, Columbus returned to a semblance of the normalcy it had enjoyed prior to Villa’s raid. Today it attracts snowbirds in the winter and tourists throughout the year, and the days of the Soiled Doves are gone. All that remains are the records in Army archives, the reminiscences of antiquarians, and the narratives of historians.

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The Railroad Depot Museum Photo courtesy Railroad Depot Museum.

What vision comes to mind when you hear the name Pancho Villa? Bandit, hero, valiant leader, ruthless tyrant? All of those names have been associated with him. He was not an easy man to define; it would depend on when you met him during his career. Here in Columbus, New Mexico, the same holds true. Some of our citizens have been told by their older relatives that he was a defender of the people. Others say he killed many of his countrymen in their villages.

Here in Columbus, we saw the results of his raid. Over 500 Villista’s attacked our town in the predawn hours of March 9, 1916. By the time the raid was over, one half the invaders were killed or wounded and 18 Americans were dead. This was the last time a foreign government invaded the Continental United States.

In retaliation for the raid, President Wilson formed a military group to attack and capture Pancho Villa under the leadership of General “Black Jack” Pershing. In the space of one week, Pershing not only drew up the logistical plan for the campaign, but actually had troops on the way to Columbus where he would march into Mexico. In a remarkably short time, the Punitive Expedition entered Mexico and tried to track Villa to his lair. With all the men, horses, mules and might of 10,000 troops, 11 months later our army had never once met up with Villa’s main force. They fought many small battles but never a big one. This was guerrilla warfare at its most effective. We were the foreign invaders. Everyone was against us even if they weren’t for Villa.

It was an educational time for our armed forces. This was the first time that Americans used mechanized vehicles in combat. This included cars and trucks (purchased on the open market) from auto dealers in El Paso and other locations. At that time, cars were not in general use; the drivers were given rudimentary instructions and told to drive. It wasn’t uncommon to hear the drivers shouting “giddy up” and “whoa” instead of pushing the proper pedals in the vehicles. The first armored vehicles were used here. They were the forerunners of tanks. Motorcycles also were used in combat conditions. They (and mules) often would have machine guns mounted as they rode into combat. As an interesting sidenote, the regular paths that people used to get from one village to another were too rough for our vehicles so the Army Corp of Engineers improved the road between Columbus and Casas Grande, Mexico.

This effort also included the first use of airplanes in combat conditions. Our entire air force (eight planes) was stationed in Columbus, a squadron of the signal corps. Up to this time, planes were used to carry messages. Here, since they were underpowered, they flew so low they would draw fire from people on the ground. In self-defense, they carried grenades as bombs and shot back at the ground troops. The planes were also used as observers for the first time; they located suspected enemies and carried the news back to the troops. It was an exciting time for the U.S. troops. More than twenty thousand troopers gained experience in combat conditions which proved to be of great value as the U.S. entered into the European theater the following year when they returned from Mexico.

What effect did this have on Columbus? While the troops were here, Columbus was the largest settlement in New Mexico. But when they left, it became smaller than before. Over the years the town dwindled in size until the trains stopped running in the 1950s. The population dropped to around 200 and the village was listed in many locations and guides as a ghost town. Now we are up to about the size of the village at the time of the raid, around 1700 people. We still maintain our rural character but with a surprise or two for the visitors to our area.

Our Railroad Depot Museum was the railroad depot at the time of the raid and was one of the principal targets. The Villistas wanted loot, money and goods to help finance their war against the Nationalist Army.  Shots were fired at the depot, which was closed for the night. The only real casualty was a wall clock that stopped when it was hit by a bullet and recorded the time of the start of the raid. The clock is currently being held in Santa Fe and will only return when we can guarantee its safety. The museum has an excellent collection of photos of scenes taken both in Columbus and throughout the area of the Punitive Expedition. Watch the videos that were made about Pancho Villa and his raid. Examine the artifacts of the soldiers stationed here and imagine spending a winter chasing after a bandit at high altitudes in the mountains of Chihuahua, Mexico. Look at the display of weapons that were used on both sides. We also have a copy of Pancho Villa’s death mask as well as one of his sombreros.

When you have had your fill of death and destruction, the other rooms in the depot will give you an idea of life on the frontier around the turn of the century. Costumes and implements fill the walls and display cases. We even have some railroad memorabilia. In May of 2000, a painting of our entire air force of early 1916 was unveiled in town. Three days later the painting was presented to the Pentagon in Washington, DC. We are proud to offer signed and numbered prints for sale.

Columbus is located three miles from the Mexican border and is the only crossing point in New Mexico that is open 24 hours a day. Many of the visitors to the museum are from across the border. When you visit, be sure to sign our guest book. Our phone number is 505-531-2620.

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A walk across the border for pan dulce

By Phyllis Eileen Banks

Pancho Villa Park in Columbus Photo by Joann Mazzio

When we first moved to New Mexico from Alaska, we explored some out-of-the-way places because we didn’t have that opportunity in Alaska. Out-of-the-way places there required an airplane. Columbus, New Mexico, population 700, intrigued us after we learned that three families from Alaska had built adjacent houses, complete with airstrip, in that remote desert community.

So what was there? It’s only three miles from the Mexican border, the air is clear, there are no traffic jams, and before World War II Columbus was the only place foreign forces had invaded the United States. In 1916, Pancho Villa and his bandits attacked, shooting out windows and looting stores, it is said. Now there is a park that was named for Pancho Villa, but only after much controversy. Since the consensus was that the villain receives the most attention, the name Pancho Villa triumphed.

We turned south from Interstate 10 at Deming onto New Mexico Highway 11, driving 32 miles, to check it out. Located on the site of the old Camp Furlong, the park is primarily a botanical garden consisting of southwestern desert plants. An interesting artifact is the first grease rack installed to service U. S. Army automotive equipment. The lube, oil and filter attendants of today would find it difficult to grease your car there in the few minutes they take now.

Pancho Villa

We found a visitors’ center, campground, and picnic tables in a very pleasant, uncrowded location. There is a documentary film at the center on Pancho’s raid for those who love history. After a short walk around town, we drove three miles to the border town of Las Palomas, parked on the U. S. side, and walked across into Mexico. You don’t need a visa or passport, just a voter’s registration card or other proof of citizenship.

I am a bread-a-holic and the fragrance from the bakery was alluring. It was fun to take a tray and tongs to make our selection. We bought far more than we needed, but who can resist such a bargain? Neither of us can, so we returned to the U. S. happily munching pan dulce, bread with just the right amount of sweetness. Now we’re ready for our next exploration in southwestern New Mexico.

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Old Customs house in Columbus. Photo by Barbara Agte.

With a fascinating history, a 24-hour border crossing, a varied and unique geology, a New Mexico State Park, a museum, and a mild winter climate, Columbus is a New Mexican village which attracts visitors from the U.S., Asia, and Europe year after year.

Columbus has had an unusual and colorful history. The village was first established in 1891, just across the border from Palomas, Chih., Mexico. In 1902, when the El Paso/Santa Fe Railroad Line, connecting El Paso to the West, opened its Columbus station, the residents moved themselves and their village three miles north to the present location.

The site of the last foreign invasion into the U.S., Columbus was attacked in the early hours of March 9, 1916. Francisco (Pancho) Villa and his army of 500-1000 men on horseback, crossed the Mexico/U.S. border and burned the sleeping village. Reportedly, a total of 18 Columbus residents and members of the U.S. Army were killed. Over 100 of Villa’s men were found dead. A retaliation was led by General Jack Pershing, commanding U.S. Army Troops. The action was the first time airplanes and/or motorized vehicles were used in U.S. warfare. Pershing and his troops pursued the Mexicans far into Mexico, but Villa and his troops disappeared into the mountains.

Of particular interest to historians visiting Columbus are the Columbus Historical Museum, specializing in both Pancho Villa and railroad memorabilia, the old U.S. Customs House (a film on Villa can be viewed there), the site of Pershing’s Camp, and the airport site used by the First Aero Squadron. A replica of the plane used by the First Aero Squad is located on a concrete tower at Hacienda del Sur Air Park five miles north of Columbus. This replica is visible from Highway 11.

Lovers of the flora, fauna, and geology of the high Chihuahuan Desert will appreciate the Florida and Tres Hermanas Mountains, the open desert, and Pancho Villa State Park, home to every plant and animal native to the area. Depending upon the season, hummingbirds, snow geese, dove, quail, hawks, eagles, finches, rabbits, hares, and many types of lizards are plentiful. Chaparral, sage, and other desert herbs, plants, and wild flowers are abundant.

While Columbus is not in the mountains, it has ranges on all four sides. To the east and north of Columbus is the Florida Mountain range; to the west and north is the Tres Hermanas Range; south into Mexico is the Sierra de los Palomas, and to the north is Cooke’s Range.

The population of Columbus ranges from 700 in the summer to 1000+ in the winter. Special events are always scheduled in Columbus for March 9, “Raid Day” and for the second Saturday in October, for Columbus/ Pancho Villa Day.

Columbus is about 30 miles south of Deming on Highway 11 and just three miles north of Palomas, Chih., Mexico.

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