Famous outlaw Frank James slept here - in Fort Worth. Honest.
In the 19th century, some places claimed, “George Washington slept here” to achieve a level of notoriety. Frank James, one-half of the legendary outlaw brothers Jesse and Frank James, actually came to Fort Worth – and slept here.
First, he had to face justice for bank and train robbery that the James brothers took up after the Civil War. Their gang was badly shot during an aborted bank job in Northfield, Minnesota, in 1876. They went into hiding, and Jesse was murdered in April 1882.
Five months later, Frank meekly surrendered to the governor of Missouri. He was tried twice in Missouri, first for murder, then for armed robbery, and found not guilty both times, then for robbery in Alabama with the same verdict.
After two years, he finally walked out of jail a free man. He moved to Oklahoma Territory to live with his mother. After she died, he moved to Dallas, where he had friends. At some point he married Anna Ralston, and they had a son, Robert Franklin James.
For the last 30 years of his life, the former outlaw lived quietly, scraping by as a shoe salesman (for Sanger Brothers), theater-ticket taker, telegraph operator, and stockman (raising horses and donkeys).
He apparently made enough to do a little traveling and a little gambling because he was reported in both St. Louis and Chicago where he played the horses, placing small bets of $5 and $10. He may have crossed paths with Luke Short, another sporting man who followed the ponies. James even owned a string of horses himself at one point.
Dallas was home for several years, but he came to Fort Worth on more than one occasion. He apparently made the acquaintance of ex-marshal Longhair Jim Courtright, because in the summer of 1886 the two strolled the streets of the town attracting quite a crowd. Reportedly, they planned to collaborate in a stage production about their lives that they would take on tour.
The pair approved a script and signed contracts that stipulated that Courtright would not have to appear in New Mexico and James would not have to appear in Minnesota where respectively the law was not too fond of either man.
The stage career never happened. Just the opposite, James’s life was almost boringly unglamorous, He raised “jacks” (donkeys) that he exhibited in “fairs” around the area. Those included the State Fair in Dallas and maybe the Texas Spring Palace in Fort Worth.
In the fall of 1887, he came down with the dengue fever and on Oct. 12 was reported dying at home in Dallas. One day later the Fort Worth Gazette said, “Frank James is said to be dying by those who don’t know. By those who do know, he is said to be in good health and at work in Dallas.”
James always created something of a sensation whenever he came to town. Appearances could be deceiving. He was a celebrity, but only attracted attention because of the over-sized reputation that preceded him. He was slender and “gentlemanly-looking” with a “grayish” mustache and ruddy face, always dressed in a suit. He was pleasant to one and all, never prone to braggadocio, and had not worn a gun since surrendering to Gov. Thomas Crittenden in 1882. Besides gambling, his favorite things were “a good story, a good newspaper, and a good horse.”
Late in life, James took his wife and son and returned to the family farm in Clay County, Missouri. Declining health limited his activities. He earned a little money by conducting tours of the “famous James farm” at 25 cents a head.
Frank James died after a lingering illness at Excelsior Springs, Missouri, on Feb. 18, 1915. The cause was given as “apoplexy” (a stroke). He was 72 years old.
Despite one of the most spectacular criminal careers in American history, he was never convicted of anything, never served a prison sentence, and died with his boots off. Frank James was fondly remembered across the heartland as an American Robin Hood, and Fort Worth can claim a small piece of him.
Author-historian Richard Selcer is a Fort Worth native and proud graduate of Paschal High and TCU.