Hero or villain? The complicated life of Kerrville’s Henry Baker

Henry Harrison "Hen" Baker, his wife Sarah Coker Baker and some of their children.

A man can be revered and called a hero by some, while others call him a villain. The subject of today’s column was a complicated man of contradictions. 

As one account states, “Hen Baker was at one time a Texas Ranger and part-time deputy sheriff. His experience on the right side of the law evidently didn’t make much of an impression of him for he hardened in his old age. Hen always stayed in trouble but his dry wit and sharp reasoning usually kept him out of jail."

The story of Hen Baker is one that has fascinated me for years. His family still lives in Kerr County, and I am not writing this column to embarrass anyone. My intent here is to set the record straight on a complex individual — a man who died more than 90 years ago but continues to inspire debate among the older families in the western part of the county.

I was meticulous in my research for this column, using not just local history books and old newspaper accounts, I also delved into court transcripts and prison records to get to the truth so I could tell the story of Hen Baker properly.

Henry Harrison Baker was born in Memphis, Tennessee, on Oct. 5, 1850, the son of Alfred Baker and Sarah Burks Baker. He was the second oldest of 11 children. Alfred Baker came from Scotland and originally settled in Tennessee after coming to the United States. In 1866, the family settled in the Turtle Creek area of Kerr County.  

In May of 1871, Hen Baker enlisted with the Texas Rangers, serving under Capt. John William Sansom in the Frontier Battalion, Company C. After three years, he transferred to Capt. Neal Coldwell’s regiment in Center Point.

During Baker’s tenure with the Texas Rangers, he took part in frequent skirmishes with hostile bands of natives and outlaws. Hen is credited with killing a chief of a band of natives that were raiding the Guadalupe River Valley. He also was instrumental in capturing the Smith Brothers gang in Bandera.

The hardest action he faced during his time with the Texas Rangers was his involvement in the Lost Valley Fight in July of 1874. The fight is considered one of the fiercest battles the Texas Rangers staged. The fight was against a band of Apaches, Kiowas and Comanches, led by Kiowa Chief Lone Wolf. This was a particularly bloody fight in which two Rangers were killed, two more were wounded and most of the Rangers’ horses were lost. The rest of the battalion escaped, thanks to a timely rescue by the 10th United States Cavalry. In studying Baker’s life, I can’t help but wonder what kind of scars this battle left on him.

It was also in 1874 when Baker first stood trial for murder. He was accused of killing Thomas Ledman and was acquitted of all charges. Not many details of this event have survived with the passing of time.

Between 1892 and 1902, after retiring from the Texas Rangers, Baker stepped in as a deputy sheriff under Kerr County Sheriff John W. Vann when extra help was needed.

Baker married Sara Coker on May 16, 1878, and settled on the South Fork of the Guadalupe in West Kerr County. The Bakers had three daughters and four sons and, for the most part, during the early part of their marriage, Baker was known as a fiercely loyal family man who stayed on the right side of the law. It was sometime after his 43rd birthday when things started to change. The line between right and wrong became blurred and, as Baker progressed into his elder years, he developed a reputation for always being in trouble.

It is said that Baker stood no taller than 5-foot-7, had auburn hair, a bushy mustache and a stocky build. He spoke with a nasal twang that could be heard “like a noisy crow in a cornfield” over the din in a crowded saloon and was known for his quick wit and pithy comments. He was overheard telling the barkeep at the Favorite Saloon in downtown Kerrville, “I hope you never have any trouble, but if you do, just get you two or three good witnesses. It don’t make any difference about lawyers.”

That advice seemed to serve Baker well over the years, many times he was either accused or stood trial for various offenses but somehow managed to stay out of jail. He earned a reputation for “borrowing” supplies from his neighbors and even told one neighbor when he was caught in the act of borrowing that he would pay him back for the borrowed stock salt as soon as another neighboring rancher put some out. Baker’s neighbors never knew how much salt they lost this way.

When Baker would bring hogs into town to sell, the animals would already be dressed, with the heads missing. Pigs were branded by ear marks, identifying which ranch they belonged to. When the animal inspectors asked Baker why he brought his hogs in without the heads, he would reply, “Because heads didn’t get fat.” I did find one account of Baker serving time in jail for stealing wire and, when he was asked about the incident, referred to it as a “little hardware deal.”

From accounts given by local historians, it seems Baker’s antics were mostly taken with a sense of humor and a blind eye until 1893, when things took a dark turn with the killing of Newt Merritt. I originally heard that the cause for the killing involved Baker’s pet pig. The stories that were passed down say that Merritt was shot for either insulting or killing the pig. Neither version of the story is true.

On Oct. 10, 1893, Baker approached Merritt, who was unarmed and plowing a field. Baker asked Merritt if he had been telling neighbors that he, Baker, had stolen and killed one of Merritt’s cows. Merritt asked what Baker was going to do about it if he did say so. Baker said Merritt would have to take it back or be killed. Merritt said he had nothing to take back, and Baker responded by firing twice at Merritt with a Winchester rifle.  

Baker then mounted his horse and rode away, telling one or two witnesses he encountered on the road that they better go see to Merritt, as he thought Merritt was badly hurt. There was a manhunt for Baker after the shooting and, after several days, he was found and brought to trial for murder. Later in the year, the charges against Baker were dismissed.

In August 1909, Baker found himself in trouble again. A man by the name of Harry Stokes bumped into Baker one night at the Favorite Saloon. Accounts do not say if the act was intentional or accidental, but the act caused Baker to retaliate by stabbing Stokes in the chest. Stokes survived the “cutting,” and Baker went to trial on assault charges. In July 1909, Baker was acquitted of all charges.

It was in March 1915 when Baker’s luck ran out. Baker stabbed and killed his son-in-law, Dudley Laurie. The events that took place on that day and Baker’s later incarceration will take up a lot of column space, so I am going to take the advice of Ted Schulenberg and split this story into two columns. So, until next week, I will leave you to ponder a law man turned rogue and will mention that in all accounts I’ve found detailing Baker’s life, his deep family loyalty was the one thing that never changed.