Big Alice Abbott Shot by Etta Clark

According to Kate is coming soon to bookstores everywhere. 

In honor of her imminent arrival this month is dedicated to

Wild Women like Kate Elder.  

It wasn’t uncommon in the Old West for sporting women to fight with one another over territory or money.  In El Paso, Texas, competition was especially keen between two popular madams, Big Alice Abbott and quick-tempered Etta Clark across the street.  The continuous argument finally erupted in a fight, the mention of which brought uproarious guffaws in the saloons for months to come.  Around 9:30 on the warm spring evening of April 18, 1886, a police squad was sent to investigate a disturbance at one of the houses on Utah Street.  The whole area was in an uproar as a huge woman lay shot and bleeding in the dusty street, while a petite redhead, cruelly beaten, sobbed hysterically in one of the houses.

The officers somehow pieced together the story.  Bessie Colvin, one of Big Alice’s in-residence girls, owed her $125 “back rent,” but refused to pay up.  Bessie, full of whiskey and false courage, stood firm as she and Alice put on a screaming and cursing match which awed all passersby.  Bessie flounced out, dashed across to Etta Clark’s brothel, and offered her services.  Redheaded Etta promptly accepted, so Bessie tore back to her former home, told Big Alice she was leaving, then promptly took off again.  Big Alice, with her girls Nina Ferrall and Josie Connaly at her heels, huffed and puffed across the street.  Alice yelled and pounded on Etta’s door until it was opened a crack.  Big Alice flung herself against the door, ripping it from the hinges and mashing Etta’s face in the process.  At this moment, Alice spied her former girl walking out of Etta’s sitting room.

Enraged, Alice stomped on through the broken door, shoving Etta violently aside.  The redheaded Etta, deciding she needed protection, reached for a brass gas-lighter.  (This was a heavy wick-tipped rod 2 ½ feet long and ½ inch in diameter, used to light the gas burners.)  The tiny Etta drew herself up and shook the lighter in Big Alice’s face.  Bessie was whimpering in the corner.  Now Alice, blind with anger, raised her huge fist and hit Etta in the face as hard as she could.  Bessie ran to help Etta, but was grabbed by Alice, who ran out the door, pulling Bessie along with her.

Etta ran to her room and came back with a Colt .45 in her hand.  She pointed the weapon at Big Alice, who was facing her on the porch.  The gun went off, enveloping both women in a cloud of smoke.  Alice looked down in horror at the blood spreading from a spot between her thighs.  She staggered to the center of the street as Etta fired again and missed.

It took six strong men to carry the big woman to her house.  It made a dramatic scene:  the helpless female, the girls weeping and wailing, and the men straining and stumbling under their mammoth burden.  Doctor A. L. Justice was called and, upon arriving at the scene, reported that Big Alice was seriously wounded.  Etta Clark was put in jail pending a hearing.

By April 27, nine days later, Big Alice was out of danger and the preliminary trial was held in her room.  Justice L. H. Clark bound Etta over to the Grand Jury under $2,000 bond.

Nothing funny about this, you say?  True enough-but it was the aftermath of this unfortunate incident that sent El Paso rocking with laughter.  The Herald’s story was printed under a banner headline with all the details in typically turgid prose.  The reporter, trying to be precise in pinpointing Alice’s wound, wrote that Big Alice had been shot in the “public” arch.  In Alice’s case, this anatomical description was precise, indeed.

To learn more about soiled doves of the Old West read

Wicked Women.