By Whatever Name, Bill Mitchell
Remained A Fugitive To The End

By Tom Bean

The Nelson Mitchell family, originally from North Carolina, settled in a bend of the Brazos River about 12 miles south of Granbury, the county seat of Hood County, Texas, in 1868. The Hood County courthouse burned in 1875, and there is no record of when Nelson Mitchell (nicknamed Cooney) bought the land in what was later called Mitchell’s Bend.

Mrs. Mitchell was part Cherokee Indian. She and Cooney were the parents of seven children, four girls and three boys. The boys were Bill, Jeff and Dan. Bill, the oldest of the three and the subject of this article, was practically illiterate. He could barely read and write. He showed his Indian blood in his high cheek bones, dark skin, and peculiar, slanted eyes; his nose was large and his mouth was grim. He never joked. He said no one could ever run over him, and his stout body showed that they would have a hard time if they tried. He was 18 years old when the Mitchells arrived in Hood County.

Among the neighbors and friends of the Mitchells was the Truitt family, also from North Carolina, who moved to Hood County in the 1860s. The head of the family was T.M. Truitt. He was the father of three sons, James, Sam and Isaac, about the same age of the Mitchell boys, that is, the six boys were all grown young men.

T.M. Truitt borrowed money from Nelson Mitchell to pay on land and for other debts. He gave Mitchell a note for the indebtedness. When the note came due, Truitt couldn't pay it and Mitchell filed suit for collection. Trial on the collection of the note was held in Granbury March 28, 1874. T.M. Truitt was sick in bed at the time, but his three sons were at the trial. When court adjourned, the first to leave was the Mitchell crowd: Nelson and Bill Mitchell, Mit Graves, a boy working for Nelson Mitchell, Mitchell's son-in-law, William Owens, and a neighbor, D.A. Shaw.

The Mitchell boys and the Truitt boys had been having fist fights. A little ways out of town, James, Sam and Isaac Truitt passed the Mitchell crowd at a gallop and made some insulting remarks. Both crowds were well-armed. A little farther down the road the Truitts stopped at a creek to water their horses. The Mitchell party overtook the Truitts and shooting started. Sam and Isaac Truitt were killed and James badly wounded.

Bill Mitchell and Mit Graves fled. Graves was never heard from again. Bill went into hiding among the Becketts, north of Brackettville in Kinney County. The Becketts were well thought of. Bill took the name of John Davis.

He married one of the Becketts' daughters, Mary Holliday, who was recently divorced from her husband, George Holliday Sr. The Hollidays had three children, George Jr., Belle and John. Bill (now John Davis) and Mary were married at Seven Rivers, New Mexico, April 28, 1884, at the home of one of Mary's sisters, Arril Beckett Therrell.

In the meantime, Nelson Mitchell, Bill Mitchell, Mit Graves, William Owen and D.A. Shaw were indicted for murder. The trial of Nelson Mitchell and Shaw was held August 4, 1874. Nelson Mitchell was sentenced to be hanged, and Owens and Shaw were given life sentences. Shaw died in prison on October 31, 1876, and Owens was pardoned January 11, 1886. Nelson Mitchell's lawyers appealed his case. It was affirmed. Mitchell stayed in jail and wrote his life story and his version of the killing of the two Truitt boys. Jeff Mitchell tried to help his father escape jail and he was shot and killed by the jail guards two nights before the hanging was to take place. In his last statement while standing on the gallows, Nelson Mitchell called on his son Bill, wherever he was, to take revenge on what he called his murderers. In particular, he meant James Truitt.

James became a Methodist minister. He was warned about Bill Mitchell but he would not carry a gun. James gave up the ministry and bought a newspaper at Timpson in Shelby County, called The Timpson Times, in 1885. In 1886 Bill Mitchell (John Davis) found out where James Truitt was living, and set out on a 400 mile journey to find Truitt and kill him, to satisfy Nelson Mitchell's last request.

Dan Mitchell was living near Stephenville in Erath County. Bill stopped at Dan's house and told him that he was on his way to find James Truitt and kill him. Dan couldn't talk Bill out of his plan to kill James Truitt. Bill exchanged the horse he was riding for one that he had left with Dan when he originally fled from the scene of the killing of Sam and Ike Truitt. This horse was a big, beautiful, fast-stepping sorrel with stocking feet. He attracted attention, and was one of the things that helped convict Bill when he finally came to trial for the murder of James Truitt. Several witnesses against Bill remembered seeing him on this horse near Timpson on July 20, 1886, the day of the murder of James Truitt.

Bill found the Truitt home in Timpson about dark, entered the house without knocking, found James Truitt busy writing, and shot and killed him in the presence of Mrs. Truitt. Not knowing what she was doing, Mrs. Truitt said, she followed her husband's killer to the porch where he pointed his pistol at her and looked her straight in the eye. She later swore at Bill's trial that she would know Bill by his eyes. She watched the killer ride off at a gallop and she then collapsed.

Sheriff Sims of Shelby County was about 20 miles away at Center, the county seat. He lost a lot of time in deciding what to do, and gave the killer quite a lead in getting away. He tried to track the killer, but returned to the scene of the crime. Sheriff Sims called in Sheriff A.J. Spradley of Nacogdoches for help in solving the case. Spradley found Dan Mitchell, arrested him and brought him to Shelby County and put him in jail. Spradley told Dan that "he had the goods on him." That "big sorrel horse" was in Dan's lot. Bill had left him there, saddled his other horse and headed for the wilds of Kinney County. Spradley tried to scare Dan into confessing by telling him that a mob was forming in Timpson to storm the jail and take Dan out and hang him.

Dan Mitchell had a wife and several children. They needed him. He finally told Spradley that Bill was the one that killed James Truitt, and he thought that Bill had returned to his hideout in Kinney County.

The court in Shelby County was reluctant to furnish money to the sheriff of Nacogdoches County to look for James Truitt's killer. The Truitts furnished Spradley some traveling expenses, and he went to Kinney County where he located Bill Mitchell camped on the Beckett ranch of Mary's folks. The Texas Rangers were also in the area looking for Bill to bring him back for the killing of Sam and Isaac Truitt.

The Rangers and Spradley surrounded Bill's camp January l, 1887. Bill made a break through the cedars and cactus. One of the Rangers saw him and hollered "Halt," but never fired a shot. Bill got away with his horse and saddle, leaving Mary and the children with their few possessions.

In March, Bill showed up at the home of the Therrells, where Bill and Mary had married. When Bill was introduced to Jim Burkes, the Therrells' son-in-law, Bill said, "My name is Henry Russell." No one asked any questions. The Therrells were going west to find a better place to live, and Jim Burkes was looking for a range for his cattle. "Russell" was made welcome to go with them. They were moving in two covered wagons and his help would come in handy.

They traveled on and on until they reached Magdalena, west of the Rio Grande. This was really wild country. The men went to cutting wood for the smelters. After a while the fugitive now calling himself Russell returned to Texas for his family. Mary's daughter, Belle Holliday, was now 13 and their daughter Maude was five. It took them a year to get back to Silver City. They all took the name of Russell, except Mary's boys, George and John Holliday, who took the name of Carter. George later took his own name back, but John used the name of Carter as long as he lived. Russell went to work in the mines around Silver City, and George and John found jobs on some of the ranches.

"Henry Russell" had a fringe of hair just above his ears. The rest of his head was as bare as a billiard ball. He was now called Baldy Russell.

Baldy took Mary and the girls to the vast, waterless area of sand and rock east of the Rio Grande, called Jornada del Muerto (Journey of the Dead Man). This was one of the most desolate and untraveled areas of the west. This strip of country, a hundred miles north and south and thirty miles wide, belonged to the United States Government. Anyone could settle there if he could find water. Baldy solved this problem by digging a well with a pick and shovel. The women lifted the dirt out in buckets with a windlass. They were a mile west of a place called Lava Gap and struck water at 65 feet. They drew water up by hand to water the stock. They had a few horses and then began to accumulate a few cattle.

Baldy sold this first well and moved on north and dug another one, built a house and corrals, put up a windmill, had a garden, chickens and a milk cow. Whenever he got a small ranch going, there was always someone ready to buy him out. In 1895, he sold out again and went back to odd jobs and camping. He worked one summer at the Bar N Cross ranch on the south end of the Jornada. This was the first time his family had lived close to other people. They lived near the ranch headquarters. After the summer work was over, Baldy dug another well, the fifth one, not far from the first one at Lava Gap. He built a stone house and stone corrals, and again started building up a herd of cattle.

Baldy had a run-in with Jim Gilliland, a tough man who was charged, along with Oliver Lee and Bill McNew, with the death of A.J. Fountain and his little eight year-old son, Henry. Whether Gilliland had anything to do with the capture of Baldy or not was never known.

H.N. Denny, the sheriff of Otero County, and his deputy, Ben Wooten, left Alamogordo March 23, 1907, and a few days later arrested Baldy Russell at his home without incident. He was taken back to Granbury and put on trial for the murder of Sam and Isaac Truitt. The district attorney could not produce witnesses and the judge dismissed the charge against Baldy.

For the killing of James Truitt, Baldy was out on bond until March 9, 1908, when he went on trial. The jury could not agree. He was put on trial again. The jury could not agree, and the case was moved to Cherokee County, where the case came up for trial December 23, 1910. Baldy was found guilty and given a life sentence. His lawyers kept him out of jail for another year while appealing his case, which was finally affirmed.

On March 25, 1912, Baldy entered the Big House at Huntsville as No. 32924. He kept a clean record until he escaped July 14, 1914. Members of his family said that he was a trusty, working outside the walls, and just walked away. No effort was made to find him and no reward was offered for his capture. Very little publicity was given to his escape.

Baldy's wife, Mary, who had been staying with some of Baldy's folks near Stephenville, soon left for New Mexico. Baldy's actions showed that he was afraid of being caught. He hid out in a cave not far from Stephenville for a while, and one of his brothers-in-law, John Johnson, brought him food and water. He finally showed up at the home of his daughter, Maude, and her husband, Sam Dillard, who lived near Capitan, New Mexico. The Dillards rigged up a light wagon, filled it with a camping outfit, furnished a team of mules, and Baldy and Mary headed west. No more was heard of Baldy Russell, who once again became John Davis.

John and Mary Davis passed through Farmington and headed on out to Arizona. At San Simon, John and Mary found some of their old friends, the Whitmires, who had been their neighbors on the Jornada. The Davises spent the last of their lives together at San Simon in a house belonging to the Whitmires. John did what odd jobs he could find and accumulated enough money to buy a Model T Ford car in which they would make trips back to Capitan to see Maude. Belle, Mary's daughter, had married, moved to California and was never heard of again.

In the 1920s Bill Mitchell, (Baldy Russell/John Davis) began to have heart trouble. In April 1928, he had been working in his garden at San Simon and had a severe attack. George Holliday was sent for. He came and he and his mother took Bill to the hospital in Douglas. He was up stirring around, with Mary on one side and a nurse on the other, helping him along when he slumped down. It was later said that he wouldn't lie down and died standing up. He had been on the dodge for a total of approximately 47 years.