From the internet, I had heard this story about a Texas Ranger in Panama for years, finally I found his name and then found this story on the internet:
Ran Runnels - The Hangman of Panama!By Robert N Apold 
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Ran
Runnels, a former Texas Ranger, was hired by the Howland and Aspinwall
Company, which was building a railroad across the Isthmus of Panama. His
services were need to rid the area of a ruthless band of cutthroats who
were robbing and murdering countless gold seekers crossing the Isthmus
on their way to and from California. Runnels was given a free hand in
dealing with the problem.
Ran Runnels - El Verdugo de Panama
When
gold was discovered at Sawmill on the American River in California on
January 24, 1848, the news spread rapidly and the rush to California was
on. There were three basic routes for the gold seekers living in the
eastern part of the United States to get to California. The Overland Route, required crossing the great plains and deserts of the West. Another was the Cape Horn Route and involved sailing
around Cape Horn and the Straights of Magellan in South America, which
took 6 to 12 months and covered a distance of over 13,600 miles
The
easiest alternative was the Central American Route, which entailed
sailing from cities on the eastern coast of the United States to Central
America, crossing overland to the Pacific Coast and then continuing by
ship to California. This was the quickest and easiest of the three
routes with distances of about 5000 miles and taking between 1 to 2
months to complete.
There were three primary ways to accomplish the Central American route. The most difficult and longest was the Tehuantepec Route. This route started on the Gulf of Mexico at the town of Barra and required crossing by foot, mule or horse through Mexico.
Another was the Nicaragua Route.
This required sailing from the east coast of the United States to the
San Juan River on the Atlantic coast, up the river to Lake Nicaragua at
the town of San Carlos and then to the Pacific Ocean. The Nicaragua
Route was about 4,900 miles and took from 2 to 3 months to complete.
The third alternative was the Panama Route. This
route required sailing from the east coast of the United States to the
mouth of the Chagres River in Panama, proceeding by boat up the Chagres
River to the town of Cruces, traveling overland to Panama City and
catching a ship bound to San Francisco. The total distance for this trip
was about 5,200 miles, with about 50 of them in Panama. This trip would
take about 1 week to get to Panama from New York, 1 week crossing
Panama, and another 2 weeks sailing from Panama to San Francisco. Once
the Panama Railroad was completed in 1855, the trip across the isthmus
would take less than a day, and the whole trip, from New York to San
Francisco, could take as little as 30 days.
During
the first years of the Panama Railroad construction, efforts were
plagued by Panama’s remoteness and tropical climate, diseases that
decimated the work crews and highway robbers who preyed on his
passengers. William Henry Aspinwall, a well-known capitalist and member
of one of New York’s leading mercantile families, was one of the
founders of the Panama Railroad. Aspinwall realized the completion of
the railroad depended on establishing law and order. He needed a
forceful individual to rid the area of the criminal element. He asked
the sheriff of San Francisco, California, Colonel Jack Hayes, to
recommend someone. Hayes said he had just the man to deal with the
highwaymen - Randolph “Ran” Runnels.
Runnels
had been a Texas Ranger, the Texan rough rider group famous for
establishing law and order over the Indians and outlaws who controlled
that part of the U.S. Wild West. He had a reputation as one of the
toughest of the Rangers and had served under Colonel Hays as the head of
a pack train, using horses and mules to haul supplies during the war
with Mexico.
In
the fall of 1850, Runnels, was visited at his ranch near San Antonio,
Texas, by an official of the Howland and Aspinwall Company. The official
told Runnels that his company was attempting to build a railroad across
the Isthmus of Panama. He had come to offer Runnels a unique proposal
and had been recommended by Colonel Jack Hays. According to Hays,
Runnels was highly qualified for a mission of great importance on the
Isthmus of Panama. The Yankee Strip, as the Isthmian crossing was
called, was ten miles wide and 40 miles from sea to sea and it was one
of the worst, miserable pieces of jungle wilderness on the face of the
earth. To cross from the Atlantic side to Panama City on the Pacific,
one had to travel several days by native canoe up river, a river full of
snakes and crocodiles. Life-threatening diseases were also a serious
danger. Runnels was also told that the company was trying to transport
gold across the Isthmus by pack train and at the same time was
attempting to build a railroad. To make matters worse, the company’s
efforts were being harassed by the fiercest group of murderous
cutthroats and highwaymen ever to confront travelers. The company needed
a man with Runnels qualifications who had the courage, confidence and
ability to deal with these rogues.
Outwardly,
Ran Runnels didn't appear to be a tough enforcer. A writer who had met
Runnels while visiting Panama provided the following description, “The
casual observer would not mark anything very formidable in the delicate
organization of the bold Ran. He is of short stature and of
slightly-built frame. His hand is small and looks better suited for a
lady's kid glove than to handle a bowie knife or revolver. His boyish,
well-combed head and delicate features indicate little of the daring
spirit of the man, but there is a close resolute pressure of the lips, a
commanding glance of the eye, a sinewy wiriness of the limbs, and an
activity of movement, all of which are in character with his bold
determination and lively energies.”
Although
Runnels was considered a Godless man in his youth, he changed
dramatically one night while listening to a sermon by the Reverend Jesse
Hord, a famous preacher, and made a clear, Pentecostal conversion. No
matter what violent acts he performed later, he did them in the sure
knowledge that he was saved.
For
the next two years Runnels farmed the family acres and waited for a new
adventure. He was asked to lead a party of settlers to California
during the gold rush, but he was not interested. When the Howland and
Aspinwall official approached him with his Isthmus proposal, Runnels
agreed, immediately packed his belongings and kissed the tearful
womenfolk goodbye.
In
1851 when Runnels journeyed to Panama, there were five United States
Mail Steam Line vessels plying regularly between New Orleans and
Chagres--the Alabama, Falcon, Mexico, Pacific and Philadelphia.
Eight other steamers operated from New York to Chagres. These 13 ships,
boasting a total capacity of 5,000 passengers, were in constant
movement to and from the Isthmus.
Runnels arrived in Panama aboard the 891-ton steamer Falcon and he and
his fellow passengers crowded into longboats which rowed them to the
railroad company dock. Once ashore, they tried making arrangements for
transport to Panama City.
Through
the influence of the railroad company agent at Yankee Chagres, Runnels
obtained a prized seat in one of the new lifeboats of the Isthmus
Transportation Company, which had just begun service on the Chagres. The
lifeboats, imported from the States, carried a dozen or more passengers
and were easier to handle and offered a faster, more comfortable ride
than the bungos which the other passengers had to settle for.
At
Gorgona, Runnels left the lifeboat in exchange for a mule. His party
met with no mishap on the jungle trail, but most of the members were
apprehensive of outlaw attacks and test-fired their arms often, to make
sure they were in operating condition.
As
darkness fell on the second day after leaving Gorgona, Runnels and his
party entered Panama City. After turning in the mules, the group
scattered to seek lodgings. Runnels went at once to the American Hotel.
After
settling in the hotel, Runnels made a visit to the United States
Consul, William A. Nelson. The American consul told Runnels what he knew
of the lawless exploits of the highwaymen and murderers on the Isthmus
and gave him a secret commission to punish them by any means whatsoever.
Runnels'
orders were to enter into the mule express business on the Isthmus and
while using this enterprise as a cover, he was to secretly organize a
force to wage war on the band of cutthroats known as the Derienni. New
mule express companies were formed almost daily, so the formation of
Runnels cover company aroused no suspicion. To drum up business and
appear legitimate, Runnels ran advertisements in the Isthmus newspapers.
Mules were a scarcity on the Yankee Strip but Runnels appeared to have a
knack for finding them. However, the general public was unaware that
arrangements had been made for each of the major express carriers to
donate mules to Runnels' Express Service.
With
his Express Service operating successfully, Runnels chose approximately
40 of his employees and swore them into the secret organization called
the Isthmus Guard. These men were a mix of Yankees, Chileans, Peruvians,
Mexicans and other individuals whose true nationality was difficult to
identify. The forty men of the Guard were not very impressive in
appearance. They were a bare-footed, coatless, harum-scarum looking lot
and resembled more Ali Baba's forty thieves than the honest guards they
were. However, with Ran Runnels at their head, they would soon rid the
Isthmus of robbers and keep thousands of unruly laborers in wholesome
subjection.
Runnels
was fluent in Spanish and had no difficulty in communicating with the
men. Between trips along the trail, he and his men hung about the
cantinas and plazas of Panama, Gorgona, Cruces and Yankee Chagres,
listening to gossip and identifying known highwaymen. Identifying them
was relatively easy because their criminal actions were so flagrant. In
his office, Runnels received information gathered by his agents and
compiled a list of names and descriptions of the Derienni in a big black
ledger that he kept locked in his safe
During
this time, the highwaymen continued their activities. At night, the
sound of gunshots could be heard in the nearby jungle and the next day
mules without riders or packs would turn up at Gorgona or Cruces. The
Derienni massacred boatloads of travelers on the Chagres and looted
their dead bodies. Buzzards circling overhead indicated where the
massacres had occurred..
The
highwaymen harassed the gold trains with such impunity that several of
the large shippers threatened to transfer their business to the Transit
Route through Nicaragua. As a result, the US Consul sent Runnels a
two-word, unsigned message that said, "Strike soon.".
One
spring evening in 1852 Runnels and his Isthmian Guard descended on the
towns of Cruces, Gorgona, and Panama City and began arresting members of
the Derienni in saloons, gambling houses, brothels and imposing
residences. The vigilantes were masked and made no explanation for their
actions and quickly captured 37 of the Derienni.
Later
that night, the Isthmus Guard hanged the entire group on the inner side
of the sea wall known as the East Battery. The bodies of several
wealthy and prominent businessmen dangled alongside those of highwaymen.
Runnels'
dramatic and swift justice brought sudden peace on the Isthmus. Most of
the ringleaders of the Derienni had been eliminated with this one
dramatic stroke. The trails grew quiet. The gold trains traveled safely
through the steamy jungle, no longer harassed by the highwaymen.
The
employees of Runnels' Express Service continued the business but in
their spare time they frequented the bars and gambling halls of the
Isthmus. At the docks at Panama City and Yankee Chagres, they
scrutinized new arrivals closely, occasionally selecting names from
passenger manifests, which they reported to Runnels for inclusion in his
big ledger.
Although
William Nelson and the other businessmen on the Yankee Strip were
confident that the crime wave on the Isthmus had been broken, Runnels
was not as optimistic because he knew of at least fifty men still at
large who had engaged in murder and banditry in the past. Runnels had no
reason to believe they would not resume their banditry.
That
summer a cholera epidemic broke out. As a result, many travelers died
on the Isthmus trails. The mule trains, guarded only by scanty crews,
made the crossing without armed interference and even single travelers
could walk the entire way unharmed as long as they did not contract the
cholera.
With
the arrival of the dry season, the cholera epidemic subsided but at the
same time banditry and murder along the trails began to increase. At
first only the single traveler or the pack train straggler on lonely
stretches of the trail had to be worry about being robbed, but then the
armed attacks became more daring and overt. Gunfire flashed from the
jungle thickets and masked riders harassed the main bodies of the pack
trains. Even the towns were not safe. In the fall of 1852, bandits
stormed into a crowded barroom in Gorgona, robbed the gambling tables,
and withdrew under a hail of gunshots that killed four patrons.
In
October of 1852, a paymaster for the Panama Railroad Company was
attacked as he walked along the tracks near Bohio Soldado and was robbed
of a gang payroll amounting to $300. Wounded seriously and left to die,
he was able to reveal the identity of his assailant before expiring.
The paymaster's killer was a recent arrival on the Strip from Cincinnati
named Timothy Copeland. This outlandish attack on a railroad employee
on company property called for immediate action and the US Consul
ordered Runnels to apprehend and punish Copeland.
On his arrival in Aspinwall, Runnels learned that Copeland had also robbed and murdered a prostitute at the Maison del Vieux Carre,
a house of ill-repute. Runnels found out that Copeland, “a tall male
with a white, cadaverous countenance and pale eyes staring from under
the brim of a misshapen black hat,” had not left town. He was still
swaggering around the streets and drinking in the saloons. Copeland, on
hearing that there was some talk of lynching him for the murder of the
prostitute, reacted by brandishing an evil-looking dirk and challenged
anyone to try.
Runnels
and two members of his Isthmus Guard found Copeland in one of the
saloons. The three were carrying blunt, double-barreled buckshot guns
and as they entered the saloon, most of the patrons scrambled for exits.
The buckshot guns, the size of small cannons, could sweep the room
clean of practically everybody.
Copeland asked Runnels with drunken bravado, "What are you going to do with me?"
Runnels, after taking Copeland's pistol and dirk, told him that he must accompany them to the Maison del Vieux Carre .
Copeland protested, but Runnels insisted. With his arms bound, Copeland
was marched to the house of prostitution where he was identified as the
man who had gone upstairs with the murdered girl. Some jewelry found in
Copeland's pockets was identified as having been the property of the
girl.
Copeland
again asked Runnels what he was going to do with him and Runnels told
him in a matter of fact manner that he was going to hang him.
Copeland
then broke down and begged for his life, saying that he had come from a
good home in Cincinnati and asked for mercy in the name of his elderly
parents. Copeland was marched by his captors from the Maison to
the railroad area behind the long shed-like wharf. They were followed by
a growing crowd. Runnels fashioned a hangman's knot and looped it about
Copeland's neck. He attached the other end to a derrick-like hoist
operated by a steam engine that was used to raise heavy pieces of
equipment.
Copeland
fell to his knees and begged the crowd to prevent Runnels from taking
his life. The onlookers responded with jeers and catcalls.
The Reverend Isaiah Cranston of Providence, Rhode Island, who had arrived in Aspinwall that very day on the schooner Mary Ellen,
stepped forward to intercede, but after being shown evidence that
Copeland was guilty he realized it was useless to plead for mercy for
him.
Runnels
then grasped the lever that operated the steam engine and Copeland was
hoisted slowly into the air and slowly strangled to death. Copeland's
legs were not bound and one of the crowd remarked that he did a fancy
fandango.
Not
long after Copeland's execution there was a hastily called meeting of
the Isthmus Guard in the back room of the Runnels Express Service in
Panama City. News had just been received that seven miners returning
home from California had been brutally murdered and robbed on the jungle
trail between Cruces and Panama. A vote was taken and a decision
reached. Runnels brought the ledger from the vault, consulted the list
of names and made assignments. That night another mass roundup was in
progress. When the sun rose over the Panama City sea wall next morning
it revealed the bodies of 41 men hanging by the neck from the timbers
projecting from the wall. This time no prominent individuals were
included in this group. These were the riffraff swept up from the back
alleys of the towns and the thickets of the jungle trails.
The second mass execution was applauded by the Star & Herald, an English newspaper, as
“a work of civic merit and even as a manifestation of the Monroe
Doctrine.” The native-born Panamanians were not quite so enthusiastic.
As Runnels rode by, they avoided his gaze and kept their distance.
Behind his back they referred to Runnels as El Verdugo - The Hangman.
Railroad
construction and the arrival of gold rush travelers launched the town
of Cruces into a center of activity again. The builders recognized that
they needed the Las Cruces Trail for access during railway work and
began building an improved the road. George Totten, the engineer in
charge of construction, paid laborers 80 cents a day with a backpay
promise of and additional 40 cents a day to each who stayed on to work
on the railroad.
Observing
all the new activity around him, the mayor at Cruces sought an
opportunity to enrich himself. He decided he could use his official
authority to force the railroad company to pay the workers the full
$1.20 a day from the very beginning. He would make a profit by receiving
an honorarium from the workers. He collected one dollar from 150
workmen based in Cruces and waited for Totten to arrive on one of his
regular inspections. When Totten showed up, the mayor threw him in jail
and sent word to railroad headquarters on Manzanillo Island that he
would release Totten when the pay raise was announced.
Two
days later, Runnels and his armed riders galloped into town to take
control of the situation. As he reigned in his horse at the construction
foreman’s shack, Runnels shouted out that the workers had 60 seconds to
get back to work. As the men scrambled for their picks and shovels,
Runnels grabbed a sledgehammer and headed for the jail. While his men
held the soldier guards at gunpoint, Runnels smashed the lock and
released Totten. They proceeded to the mayor’s house, found him cowering
under a bed and dragged him to the main square, where Runnels publicly
flogged him and left him tied there with a note in both English and
Spanish saying: “This man was punished for interference in the peaceful
and legal business of road building. Next time, he and anyone who helps
him will get killed.” That ended the labor dispute at Cruces.
By
the time that Runnels and his Isthmian Guard had accomplished their
mission of ridding the isthmus of the dreaded Derienni and establishing
order among the work force, the Panama Railroad was finished and
thereafter crime very rarely affected the railway. The last thing that
is both well and definitely known about Runnels in Panama was his role
in the 1855 Watermelon Slice Incident. That anti-American riot that
began when a gringo named Jack Oliver refused to pay for a watermelon
slice he ate. When the vendor insisted that he pay, Oliver pulled a gun,
a third person tried to disarm him and the pistol went off. All Hell
broke loose and at least 15 people were killed. The riot was racially
oriented, which grew into a series of mob attacks on white people in
general and Americans in particular. The violence subsided when Runnels
and his men arrived on the scene and those who might have acted
otherwise in his absence concluded that it wasn’t such a good day to die
after all. As a result of that incident the US Marines invaded Panama
some weeks later. It would be the first of many American military
interventions in Panama.
Not
much is know of the activitiies of Runnels in the ensuing years. He
did marry a niece of the governor of Panama. On March 30, 1859, he was
appointed U.S Consul to San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua. He left the post on
October 15, 1861, some say because of Confederate sympathies during the
American Civil War. He became U.S Comercial Agent at San Juan del Sur
on December 21m 1874, and retired on Mar 26, 1877. He died of
consumption on July 7, 1877 at Rivas, Nicaragua, and is buried there.
The End
Note:
Much of the material for this story was derived from a variety of
sources on the Internet and are far too numerous to list. Many thanks to
all those who made this information available.
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