There isn't one stone left on another at the place chosen by Jim
Reed in 1867 for a cow country store and stagecoach stop. You'll
have to look at the stones lining a ranch water tank to locate
some of the old foundation material. But here once was a cow
town, a real cow town, for Seven Rivers had no other industry. Its
300 residents depended on ranch trade and the passing of trail
herds coming up out of Texas. That meant a few tough-bitten
saloons, a few stores, hotel and blacksmith shop.
While Seven Rivers brawled itself into frontier history, up- right
cattle barons like Charles Goodnight and John Chisum, now
historical figures in New Mexico cow country chronicles, jingled
their spurs in the town to the same tune as the men who here
began brewing the Lincoln County War. L. G. Murphy moved a
herd onto range adjacent to some of John Chisum's cattle.
Chisum's cowboys asserted that Murphy had a "miracle herd!'
that never grew smaller in spite of the thousands of beef steers
he sold off. Chisum adherents, including Billy the Kid for some
strange fancy of that notorious outlaw, were lined up against the
Murphy-Dolan gang when the shooting started up at Lincoln.
Seven Rivers might have grown into a modern little city if a man
named Charles Eddy hadn't started another town 17 miles to the
south which eventually became Carlsbad. Eddy's town attracted
men of money and vision. Tough little Seven Rivers was over-
matched. It began to die. Even frontier lawman, Sheriff Dow,
moved to Carlsbad where he was killed.
On Highway 285, south of Artesia, a historic marker suggests the
obituary of Seven Rivers. It directs you also to the town's old
cemetery, the only "living" evidence of Seven Rivers' existence.
Between cotton fields and salt cedar lining the Pecos River you
find the graveyard. Local 4-H club members are trying to clear
out the mesquite that has just about taken over the graves.
Reed in 1867 for a cow country store and stagecoach stop. You'll
have to look at the stones lining a ranch water tank to locate
some of the old foundation material. But here once was a cow
town, a real cow town, for Seven Rivers had no other industry. Its
300 residents depended on ranch trade and the passing of trail
herds coming up out of Texas. That meant a few tough-bitten
saloons, a few stores, hotel and blacksmith shop.
While Seven Rivers brawled itself into frontier history, up- right
cattle barons like Charles Goodnight and John Chisum, now
historical figures in New Mexico cow country chronicles, jingled
their spurs in the town to the same tune as the men who here
began brewing the Lincoln County War. L. G. Murphy moved a
herd onto range adjacent to some of John Chisum's cattle.
Chisum's cowboys asserted that Murphy had a "miracle herd!'
that never grew smaller in spite of the thousands of beef steers
he sold off. Chisum adherents, including Billy the Kid for some
strange fancy of that notorious outlaw, were lined up against the
Murphy-Dolan gang when the shooting started up at Lincoln.
Seven Rivers might have grown into a modern little city if a man
named Charles Eddy hadn't started another town 17 miles to the
south which eventually became Carlsbad. Eddy's town attracted
men of money and vision. Tough little Seven Rivers was over-
matched. It began to die. Even frontier lawman, Sheriff Dow,
moved to Carlsbad where he was killed.
On Highway 285, south of Artesia, a historic marker suggests the
obituary of Seven Rivers. It directs you also to the town's old
cemetery, the only "living" evidence of Seven Rivers' existence.
Between cotton fields and salt cedar lining the Pecos River you
find the graveyard. Local 4-H club members are trying to clear
out the mesquite that has just about taken over the graves.
| SEVEN RIVERS |