Original subtitles

OLD RANGER: And now,Death Valley Days.

♪♪ [ trumpet ]

Hi-yah!

Yah!

Yah!

Howdy, folks.

I'’m the Old Ranger,

and I have another interesting true story for you

about the historic Death Valley country.

There are some stories that absolutely stagger the imagination,

and this is one of them.

If it wasn'’t all documented in the archives

of the United States government,

you'’d declare that nothing so fantastic, so colossal

could have taken place as the events set in motion

by the man known as...

Tom Weedin, owner and editor of the local newspaper

in Florence, Arizona,

lived through all these events.

I'’ve even saved one of the first notices he posted,

back in '’83.

What a bombshell that was.

[ reading aloud ]

Pay through the nose, in other words.

"By order of the Baron Don James Addison

de Peralta-Reavis."

Where was this Peralta Grant?

Not was, is.

You'’re standing right in the middle of it.

Come here, I'’ll show you.

It runs from here 225 miles east,

clear into New Mexico,

and south some 75 miles.

Takes in nearly 11 million acres altogether,

including the capital city of Phoenix

and us, here.

One man owns the whole thing?

Every foot of it, so he claims.

Every ranch, every building, every homestead, every mine.

My gosh.You can imagine the panic

when those notices appeared.

Folks who had pioneered here, spent half their lives

developing the land, suddenly discovering they were trespassers.

Facing ruin if they didn'’t come to terms with the Baron.

He just appeared from nowhere?

Like a bolt from the blue,

but armed with every possible credential.

A whole parade of documents.

Seems hard to believe.

I, for one, didn'’t believe it.

I wrote a whole series of editorials

urging people to stand up and fight for their rights

against an imposter.

Now it seems I was wrong.

Two of the greatest lawyers in the United States,

Roscoe Conkling and Robert Ingersoll,

have investigated the claims,

and they can'’t find a flaw in them.

They'’ve just issued a statement to that effect.

James Addison Reavis is indeed the Baron de Arizonac

andCaballero de los Colorados.

So, what are you gonna do?

You said you wanted to be a newspaperman,

graduate from typesetting.

Well, I-- Yeah, sure.

Then go down there and see the Baron, and get me the whole story.

Who, me?

Yes, you. Saddle up and get going.

But, gosh, where to?

Whereabouts in all those 11 million acres?

Here.

Only a day'’s journey on horseback.

Mr. John Rayburn of the Southern Pacific Railway.

Your Excellency.

The directors of the Southern Pacific agree,

in the light of our lawyers'’ findings,

that the railroad is trespassing upon rights of way

which belong legitimately to you,

and are therefore prepared to pay for the privilege of crossing your property.

I have brought with me a certified check for the amount you stipulated,

$50,000.

My compliments to your directors.

I am pleased the matter has been amicably settled.

Mr. Frank Carlson of the Silver King Mine.

Mr. Reavis--

Don James de Peralta-Reavis.

Acting upon instructions from the owners of the Silver King Mine,

I have brought you this payment.

Twenty-five thousand dollars? A mere bagatelle.

It represents--You mined nearly half a million dollars'’ worth of ore last year,

declared a dividend of 200,000,

and now you have the audacity to offer me, the rightful owner of this land,

a paltry 25,000.

Which represents, as I was about to say before being interrupted,

our first installment.

Oh, well, that'’s different.

The Baron will talk with you now. His official audiences are ended.

I'’m sorry to have kept you waiting, sir.

I found it very illuminating.

So, they all capitulated.

Even the big boys.They have no choice.

[ inaudible ]

They would like to know if they may be excused.

They have my permission.You may go.

As heirs to the Peralta estate,

I feel they cannot begin too young learning about its administration,

meeting their tenants and ge-- [ door rattling ]

MAN: No, no. You cannot go in there.

Don Peralta is busy!

I don'’t care how busy he is.

I'’m a-talkin' to him right now.

So, little princes.

[ men chattering ]

Dress '’em in velvet, while our young'’uns go around in gunny sacks.

Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Don Peralta-Reavis.

Us settlers have had a meeting,

and we'’re not paying any tribute.

We'’re free Americans. We sweat blood to homestead this land,

and we'’re not knuckling down to no land grabber with a fancy title!

Robbers! [ shouts ]

We'’ll show you whose land this is!

There was no need for you to run like that, Sophia.

I was afraid for the children.

He would not dare lay hands on a Peralta.

Out the side door.

You will remain here, my dear.

My apologies for the disturbance.

Does this happen often?

They hate us, these people.

Is it our fault they settled on land to which they had no right?

The government had deeded it to them.

And the government is going to compensate me for all my trouble

in clearing these claims.

I'’m demanding $50 million.

Whew!

I feel sorry for these people.

Would you like to be back where I first met you?

These Spaniards. All temperament.

You'’re not Spanish yourself?

No, English descent.

Born plain James Addison Reavis.

It'’s my wife in whose veins flows the blood of the Peraltas.

My great-grandfather, Miguel de Peralta,

received the grant from King Ferdinand VI

back in 1748.

He lived at court, was gentleman of the king'’s bedchamber.

Wasn'’t that his title?

He had a great many titles, my dear.

Do you read Spanish?

A little.

Then you might be interested in the Peralta genealogy.

Over there.

A beautiful example of old bookbinding.

Mm, smell that old parchment.

Ah, here we are.

The record of the first Baron.

Don Miguel Nemecio Silva de Peralta de Córdoba.

With two pages listing the various titles and emoluments

bestowed on him by the Spanish Crown.

Here, the records show that his son, the second Baron,

went to Mexico with his daughter and son-in-law,

then later to California.

In San Bernardino, they were caught in the flood.

The famous San Bernardino flood.

In San Bernardino, twin children were born to the Baron'’s daughter.

A boy and a girl.

The boy died. But the girl was christened

Sophia Laureto Micaela Maso y Silva de Peralta.

My wife,

the only living blood descendent of old Miguel de Peralta,

and heir to all his estates.

Whew! All our family records are just kept in a flyleaf of a Bible.

How simple, compared with all that.

Those are records too?

Every one of them.

Gosh. BARON: Don'’t be alarmed.

You will not have to look at them all.

Oh, there'’s one thing I would like to see,

and that'’s the original grant itself.

That, unfortunately, is not in my possession at the moment.

Oh. It'’s on exhibit

at the state capitol in Phoenix,

along with some other documents sent over by the Spanish government.

We felt it might be of interest to the public,

since the Barony takes in such a large part of Arizona.

Bill, you'’re a born reporter.

Couldn'’t have gotten a more complete story myself.

Oh, this isn'’t all of it.

Would you go over to Phoenix with me and take a look

at the Peralta documents on exhibit there?

The original grant'’s among them.

You go.I'’ve already seen them.

Stopped on my way back from the Baron'’s.

Then what'’s the idea of going again?

Oh, I got to thinking we might get pictures of them.

We should, by all means,

if they'’re not too faded to reproduce well.

You'’re a better judge of that than I am.

Nonsense. You know a lot about paper and print.

However, I'’ll go with you.Thank you, sir.

Matter of fact, I'’m curious to get a squint at the document

that'’s made us all underlings of the Baron of Arizona.

And here'’s the grant.

Royal decree,

signed by Ferdinand VI of Spain.

Those old printers weren'’t half bad either,

when you think that'’s almost 150 years old.

I don'’t.

You don'’t what?

I don'’t think that paper is more than 15 years old.

What are you talking about?

I'’m saying that this document isn'’t old, either.

The date is 1757.

Take a look at the watermark on the paper.

"Big Cedar Bond."

Made by a mill in Wisconsin that wasn'’t started until after the Civil War.

Jumping catfish.

So, this is why you were so anxious for me to come here.

Yes.You haven'’t breathed it to anyone else?

Not a living soul.Good.

We'’ve got to act with the utmost caution

so Reavis doesn'’t get wind of it.

And we'’ve got to act fast, too.

These documents are being returned to Madrid any day now.

I'’ll have an expert on the job in an hour.

Ah.

[ footsteps approach ]

[ footsteps continue ]

[ door closes ]

[ footsteps approach ]

[ door rattles ]

[ knocking ]

I'’m sorry, madam. The exhibit is closed.

[ exhales ]

That was close.

How much longer is it gonna take the learned professor?

I don'’t know. I don'’t see why have to go through this rigmarole.

We know the papers are forgeries.

I'’ve been made a fool of by the Baron before.

This time I'’m not showing my hand until I have

indisputable evidence to lay before the authorities.

Well, well.

The signature of the king was written with a steel pen,

not quill, and the ink used is what is known as logwood,

invented by a German scientist.

When, Doctor? When?

Sometime during the present century.

That'’s all we need to know.

Next stop, United States Court of Private Land Claims.

They'’ve arrested the Baron!What does he say?

Denies everything, of course.

How'’s this look? The biggest type we'’ve got.

[ murmuring ]

I was nearly 16 years old before I learned who I really was.

I had grown up a waif, passed from hand to hand,

and was working as a servant on a ranch

near the Dragoon Mountains in Arizona,

when one day,

a stranger sought me out,

and told me things that were to change my whole life.

Sophia Laureto Micaela Maso y Silva de Peralta.

That'’s me?

I'’ll take you to the Mission of San Salvador,

near San Bernardino, and show you the birth record.

I can'’t read.

Oh, my poor little Sophia,

we'’ll change all that.

What are you looking at?

The blueness of your veins,

in which flows the blood of Spanish grandees.

I'’ve been searching for you for years, my child.

Thank heaven I'’ve found you.

He placed me in a convent school,

where the good sisters educated me,

trained me in the ways of a lady.

He bought me beautiful clothes, jewels.

He showed me the world.

And I loved him with all my heart.

It was on our honeymoon in Spain that he gave me

these twin miniatures.

Your great-grandfather, my darling,

Don Miguel de Peralta, and his wife.

From whom you inherit the vast Peralta Grant,

and the title Baronesa de Arizona y de Colorados.

Then what does that make you?

[ chuckling ] Oh, Baron, of course, my sweet simpleton.

The Baron of Arizona.

It all started back 30 years ago,

when I was a streetcar conductor in St. Joseph, Missouri,

with plenty of time on my hands to dream.

I wanted to become rich.

As rich and powerful as the old Spanish conquistadoresI'’d read about.

How did they get that way?

Through land grants from the Crown.

Gradually, the idea took shape in my mind.

There was one great talent I possessed,

which I'’d used in the army to advantage.

I was an expert forger.

So, I gave up my job on the horse car

and drifted down to Arizona.

And there one night, in a cheap, frontier restaurant,

fate played right into my hands...

in the person of a ne'’er-do-well by the name of Willing.

Three hundred square leagues of land

in the very heart of Arizona.

It'’s worth millions of dollars.

Only it'’s a fake.What do you mean, a fake?

Why, I got this straight from one of the Peraltas down in Mexico.

Oh, no, you can'’t fool me.

I'’m an old hand at this game.

How much do you want for it?

Well, it cost me $1,000.

I'’ll give you ten dollars.

Ten dollars?

That'’s an insult.Go peddle it somewhere else.

Uh, uh,

make it, uh, 20.

Fifteen.[ grunts ]

Well, would you like me to make out a deed?

No, thank you.

I can attend to that myself.

I now knew what I was going to do.

It would take time and patience,

ingenuity and nerve,

but I was going to establish my claim to this fictitious grant

of 300 square leagues.

Nearly 11 million acres in Arizona.

I studied Spanish, old and new,

till I was a master of the language.

I practiced the art of writing on parchment with a quill pen,

copying the style of the old scribes and padres.

I invented an entire family tree for the Peraltas,

with documents to substantiate even the tiniest twig.

I traveled to Mexico, to Portugal, to Spain,

placing these forgeries in the proper places

among official records, in libraries, museums, and monasteries.

Sometimes, it was only necessary to erase a few words with chemicals,

substituting others in their place.

Sometimes, I would exchange whole pages.

How did I gain access to these archives and not get caught?

[ chuckles ] I managed.

Like the time in a monastery in Sevilla,

when the padre in charge insisted on hanging around.

Senor, you are ill?

Just faint. It will pass.

The air in here is close and musty.

You are not used to it. Here, Senor. Sit down.

There you are.

I'’ll be all right.

If I could just have a glass of wine.

Certainly. I'’ll get it right away.

You stay where you are.

Thank you.

[ door closes ]

It took me nearly ten years.

Even then, I wasn'’t through.

To cement my claim,

I would marry a girl whom I could pass off

as the only living descendent

of old Miguel de Peralta.

She must be the right age,

a waif, ignorant of her own origin,

beautiful and gullible.

I found her.

The rest you know, gentlemen.

JUDGE: James Addison Reavis,

for the crimes which you have committed,

this court sentences you to six years'’ imprisonment

in the state penitentiary at Santa Fe.

Somebody said they thought they saw his wife not long ago

in a little Mexican village.

It'’s where she took the children after the divorce.

Well, if folks are kind, they'’ll leave her alone.

Good morning.

Reavis!

You recognize me.

I'’m glad.

So many people don'’t.

What brings you here?

Oh, yes.

The bright young man who knows so much about ink and paper.

If you'’ve come here to threaten us--

Threaten? No.

I want to give you a story for your newspaper.

I have devised a plan for a huge water project

that would irrigate this whole region around here.

Revolutionize agriculture.

Oh, it'’d take money-- millions of dollars--

but I will float a bond issue.

You?

Once the public learns the facts,

they'’ll rush to subscribe.

All I need is publicity.

A good front-page story.

Mr. Reavis--

Do you have a map of Arizona here?

The idea is to build a great dam on the Gila River.

Impound its waters.

The place is southeast of Globe,

where the river bends, here.

The Peralta Grant.

Three hundred square leagues,

eleven million acres,

and I owned it.

Claimed you did.

I fooled the biggest men in this country

for 12 long years.

And you might have got away with it longer,

if it hadn'’t been for little men like Bill here,

all over America,

who know their jobs.

For a while, Reavis skulked around the streets of Phoenix,

then he faded from sight altogether.

And that, my friends, is the story of the Baron of Arizona.

Fantastic, colossal, but true, every word of it.

♪♪ [ trumpet ]