Pioneer judge meets pioneer pet

DAVENPORT--Several years ago, Davenport was home to a town pet in one friendly wild turkey. He walked into town as a stranger but over time became so well known that the people around town gave him the name of Clyde.

Clyde could be seen roaming the streets of town where people would stop to wave hello or offer him something to eat. He stayed around town for many months despite being injured in a series of clashes with the motoring public, as he'd stop in the middle of Morgan Street puffing his feathered chest as if to dare vehicles to pass.

Sadly, his misguided bravery ultimately led to his sudden demise.

On the surface, Clyde seemed to be that once in a lifetime animal ready to settle down among the townsfolk, but Clyde was not even the first town pet for the people of Davenport.

The story of the pioneer town pet cannot be told without telling the story of a pioneer judge, and that story begins in 1904. It was that year that the 37-year-old attorney, William T. Warren, was elected as the Superior Court Judge for Lincoln County and soon moved his family from Wilbur to Davenport. Judge Warren's house was located at the northwest corner of Fifth and Marshall Streets and he was said to take great pride in his home and yard. The June 23, 1905 Lincoln Times said "The judge's home is located in the midst of a beautiful yard, where flowers and many rare specimens grow in luxurious profusion."

Several days prior to the newspaper article, the judge was sleeping at his home around midnight, when he heard something outside his window. He looked outside to see the "town cow" had come into his yard through his gate and was actively eating his prized plants. Getting dressed in a hurry, the judge ran through his door wearing his white robe without shoes or a hat and ran after the cow.

The cow in turn was alarmed and took off running down the street with the judge in hot pursuit. The chase was on and the cow was able to stay just far enough ahead of the judge who was described at times as being within inches of grabbing her tail.

The chase continued for nearly two hours across city lots, yards, alleyways and up and down streets as the cow tried its best to escape judgement. As the cow neared exhaustion from the lengthy chase, the judge seized the opportunity and took a firm hold of the cow's tail.

He then led the cow down the hill to Denny Moylan's Big Bend livery stable (which was located at the south corner of Sixth and Park Streets) where the cow was locked up at 2 a.m. "without trial or sentence." Judge Warren was said to have stopped to remove the thorns from his feet and gather himself before returning to his chamber at home.

The ultimate fate of the town cow is unknown, but one can hope she was led out to a greener pasture. As for Judge Warren, he came down with a sudden case of pneumonia in 1912 and tragically passed away at the age of 45, leaving his wife and six children behind. Judge Warren's home and beautiful yard still stands at the northwest corner of Fifth and Marshall Streets as a testament to a time when a pioneer cow met her match in a pioneer judge.