Death Scenes of Desperadoes
The American West, a land of vast horizons and untamed spirit, fostered a unique breed of men – the desperadoes. These figures, often romanticized in popular culture, lived lives marked by violence, lawlessness, and a disregard for societal norms. While their exploits captivated the imagination, a darker curiosity has always lingered: how did these notoriously desperate men meet their end? The manner of their demise, their final words, and their reactions to the face of death offer a chilling glimpse into the realities of a life lived outside the law. The legends surrounding the Death Scenes of Desperadoes are often as compelling as the tales of their exploits.
The question of whether a man "died game" was paramount among those who walked a similar path. "Did he die with his boots on?" became the ultimate test of a man’s commitment to his outlaw persona. To die with one’s boots on signified a refusal to surrender, a defiant embrace of the desperado identity until the very end. Ironically, some men who met a violent end, but did not consider themselves outlaws, requested their boots be removed before death, lest they be associated with the stigma of desperadoism.
The final moments of these outlaws varied greatly. Some remained unrepentant, defiant to the last breath, while others succumbed to fear, weeping and begging for mercy. The details of these moments, however, were often shrouded in secrecy. Participants in vigilante justice, common in the absence of effective law enforcement, were rarely eager to publicize their involvement. The act of taking a life, even the life of a known criminal, left a stain that few wished to bear openly. Yet, despite the silence, fragments of these Death Scenes of Desperadoes have survived through oral tradition and historical accounts, offering glimpses into the minds of men facing their ultimate reckoning.
Tradition has preserved snippets of the final words and actions of many outlaws. During the "regulator" movements of the late 1870s in Montana, Wyoming, and Nebraska, cattlemen took it upon themselves to deal with rustlers, often through summary executions. Accounts of these hangings reveal a range of reactions. Some met their fate with a morbid sense of humor. “Give me a chew of tobacco, folks,” one is reported to have said. Others defiantly cursed their executioners, uttering phrases like, “Meet you in hell, fellows.” A simple “So long, boys,” was another not infrequent farewell as the noose tightened. Many of these men, though criminals, possessed a certain bravery, and some genuinely believed they were being punished for acts that were not, in their eyes, crimes. The final Death Scenes of Desperadoes were not always filled with remorse.
Henry Plummer, the notorious sheriff-turned-outlaw, met a particularly ignominious end. Unlike the stoic Boone Helm, Plummer was consumed by fear and desperation. He pleaded for his life, offering any form of mutilation – the removal of his ears, hands, or tongue – in exchange for survival. He protested that he was too wicked to die, falling to his knees, crying aloud, and making desperate promises. His final moments were a stark contrast to the image of the fearless outlaw, revealing a man stripped bare by the imminence of death. Plummer’s Death Scenes of Desperadoes revealed a coward.
Ned Ray and Buck Stinson, in contrast to Plummer, died cursing their executioners, their final moments filled with profanity and rage. They seemed devoid of any belief in an afterlife, their only concern being the primal instinct to cling to life. Stinson, ironically, came from a respectable Indiana family and was once a bright and promising young man, a testament to the unpredictable paths that led men to a life of outlawry.
Dutch John [Wagner] mirrored his leader, Henry Plummer, in his initial reaction to impending death. He begged, pleaded, and offered to be mutilated in exchange for life. However, like Plummer, he managed to compose himself in the final moments, facing his execution with a semblance of calm. He even inquired about the process of hanging, asking, “How long will it take me to die? I have never seen anyone hanged.” His curiosity, even in the face of death, highlights the morbid fascination that surrounds this form of execution. The Death Scenes of Desperadoes were often public spectacles, adding to the dread associated with hanging.
In one of the largest mass hangings in Montana history, five men – Clubfoot George, Hayes Lyons, Jack Gallagher, Boone Helm, and Frank Parish – all members of the Plummer gang, were executed one after the other. George and Parish, typical of many condemned men, declared their innocence. Parish died silently, while George, who had spent time with a clergyman, showed signs of repentance. In a final act of camaraderie, George spotted a friend peering through a crack in the wall and called out, “Goodbye, old fellow,” before leaping to his death.
Hayes Lyons, denied his request to say goodbye to his mistress, pleaded for his life until the very end, even asking for his body to be taken to her for burial. His obsession with this woman ultimately led to his downfall, as he had been warned to leave the country but refused to abandon her. Often, a woman was the catalyst for a desperado’s capture and demise.
Jack Gallagher’s final moments were particularly repulsive. Unlike the brave Boone Helm, Gallagher was a coward, cursing his captors and wallowing in self-pity. He attempted to feign merriment, asking a bystander, "How do I look with a halter around my neck?" He repeatedly asked for whiskey, which was granted. Then, with the noose already tight around his neck, he demanded, "I want one more drink of whiskey before I die." Disgusted by his behavior, the men loosened the rope so he could have his drink. After gulping down a tumblerful of whiskey, he unleashed a torrent of curses before being silenced by the executioner.
In a moment of grim humor, Gallagher, upon being led to the box, pulled out a pocketknife and threatened to kill himself rather than be hanged publicly. A vigilante quickly intervened, covering him with a six-shooter and exclaiming, "Drop that, Jack, or I’ll blow your head off!" Thus, Gallagher, faced with the choice between shooting, hanging, or beheading, ultimately chose to hang. His cowardice was evident to all. These Death Scenes of Desperadoes showed the true character of the condemned.
Cy Skinner broke and ran towards the scaffold, begging his captors to shoot him. They refused and hanged him. Alex Carter, who was to be hanged alongside Skinner, expressed disgust at his cowardice. He asked for a smoke while waiting and died with a lie on his lips, proclaiming his innocence. Such denials were common among criminals facing execution, a desperate attempt to cling to any hope of escape, a primal instinct for self-preservation.
Johnny Cooper requested a "good smoke" before his execution, which was granted. Bob Zachary died without fear, praying for forgiveness from his executioners. Steve Marshland pleaded for pardon due to his youth, but the grim reply was, "You should have thought of that before." He was deemed old enough to die, as he had been old enough to kill.
George Shears was one of the most composed of the condemned. He seemed indifferent to his fate after capture. When informed of his impending execution, he remarked that he was glad it wasn’t worse. Executed in a barn where he was caught, he was instructed to climb a ladder in lieu of a proper gallows. Without hesitation or concern, he ascended the ladder and asked, "Gentlemen, I am not used to this business, never having been hung before. Shall I jump off or slide off?" Told to jump, he simply said, "All right. Goodbye!" and leapt to his death.
Whiskey Bill was given little opportunity for last words. He was hanged from horseback, the noose dropped around his neck from a tree as he sat behind a vigilante. "Goodbye, Bill," the vigilante said, spurring his horse and leaving Bill dangling.
One of the most bizarre occurrences during these executions was that of Bill Hunter, who, while hanging, went through the motions of drawing and firing his six-shooter six times. Whether this action was conscious or unconscious remains a mystery.
Bill Bunton, resisting arrest and declaring his innocence, ultimately displayed remarkable gameness. He was meticulous about the rope knot’s placement, seemingly concerned about minimizing suffering during the hanging, a common fear among these men. He inquired if he could jump off the platform, and was told he could if he wished. "I care no more for hanging," he declared, "than I do for taking a drink of water, but I’d like to have my neck broken. I’d like to have a mountain three hundred feet high to jump off from. Now, I’ll give you the time: One – two – three. Here goes!"
These Death Scenes of Desperadoes, recounted through fragmented accounts and historical records, offer a chilling glimpse into the final moments of men who lived lives of violence and lawlessness. Their reactions to death – fear, defiance, remorse, and even morbid humor – reveal the complex and often contradictory nature of the human spirit, even in its darkest corners. The stories continue to fascinate, reminding us of the brutal realities that lay beneath the romanticized facade of the Wild West.