FOLLOW ME TO HELL

A rollicking tale of a Texas lawman and the iron-jawed contingent that rode with him.

Before there were the Texas Rangers, writes Clavin, an old hand at popular Western history, there were other rangers, assembled and deputized mostly to kill Native Americans and Mexicans. One early band “were not technically Rangers but pretty much served as such until Stephen Austin gave them a name.” As Clavin notes, the Mexicans who first allowed the Anglos to settle in Texas soon came to regret the decision. Whereas they had hoped that the new settlers would constitute a buffer between them and raiding Apaches and Comanches, they saw that the newcomers “were not adhering to Catholicism and continued to own slaves,” both violations of Mexican law. The author doesn’t soft-pedal the racist ethos surrounding the Rangers, but neither does he paint a heroic portrait of the likes of Travis and Crockett or the free-shooting pacifiers of the borderlands. One most effective of these early groups was a troop led by a Confederate veteran named Leander McNelly, who lived out a long life enforcing the law on the frontier in parallel with more organized police forces until finally being folded into the Texas Rangers in 1874. McNelly had plenty of scrapes and adventures, and he wasn’t shy about crossing into Mexico, violating international law, when the occasion suited him. Among the most noir of his bêtes noires was the outlaw John Wesley Hardin, who makes a much more interesting figure overall than McNelly. It took years to bring Hardin, elusive and seemingly impervious to bullets until his last moments, to justice, a story that takes up many pages here. McNelly, for his part, helped shape the Texas Rangers into a formidable force, and, as Clavin notes, he was acknowledged as such by being “a member of the first class inducted into the Texas Ranger Hall of Fame” decades after his death.

Fans of the Wild West and its pistol-packin’ miscreants will enjoy Clavin’s latest.