George Maledon – Prince of Hangmen
In the annals of the American West, where justice was often swift and unforgiving, few figures evoke as much fascination and morbid curiosity as George Maledon. He wasn’t a gunslinger, a lawman, or an outlaw, but rather the man who stood at the end of the line for many who crossed the boundaries of the law. George Maledon, earning the chilling moniker of the "Prince of Hangmen," served as the chief executioner under Judge Isaac Parker, the stern and formidable figure presiding over the Federal Court for the Western District of Arkansas during a period of intense lawlessness. His name became synonymous with the gallows at Fort Smith, a place where justice and death met with chilling regularity.
The story of this enigmatic figure begins far from the dusty plains of Arkansas. Born in Germany on June 10, 1830, Maledon’s family immigrated to Detroit, Michigan, while he was still a young boy. Little is known about his early life, but as he matured, the call of the West proved too strong to resist. He eventually found himself in Fort Smith, Arkansas, a bustling town on the edge of the frontier. Before assuming his infamous role, he served as a police officer, familiarizing himself with the realities of law enforcement in a burgeoning territory. The outbreak of the Civil War saw him enlist in the Arkansas Light Artillery, serving in its 1st Battalion, further shaping his character and experiences.
Physically, George Maledon presented a rather unassuming figure. Described as a "whispy" little fellow, standing only about five and a half feet tall, he possessed dark eyes and hair, a fair complexion, and a long, well-groomed beard. His demeanor was quiet and reserved, rarely seen smiling. He favored wearing black clothing, an attire that, in retrospect, seems strangely fitting for the profession he would soon embrace. This quiet, almost unremarkable man would soon become the face of capital punishment in one of the most dangerous jurisdictions in the United States.
Following the Civil War, Maledon returned to Fort Smith, resuming his career in law enforcement. He worked as a deputy sheriff, gaining further experience in the rough-and-tumble world of frontier justice. In May 1871, he was hired as a turnkey at the federal jail, placing him in direct contact with the individuals who had run afoul of the law. This position proved to be a stepping stone to his eventual appointment as a "special deputy" in 1872, tasked with the solemn and irreversible duty of executing condemned prisoners.
For the next 22 years, George Maledon would become the embodiment of Judge Parker’s stern justice. He carried out the executions of over 60 criminals, sending them to their final judgment. Additionally, he was forced to shoot five prisoners during escape attempts, resulting in the deaths of two. His efficiency and unwavering commitment to his duty quickly garnered him notoriety, both within Fort Smith and beyond. It was the local newspaper, the Fort Smith Elevator, that bestowed upon him the title that would forever define his legacy: the "Prince of Hangmen." The newspaper, eager to capitalize on the public’s morbid fascination, readily published every gruesome detail of Maledon’s executions, providing a chilling form of "entertainment" for its readers.
Between 1873 and 1876, the executions at Fort Smith were public spectacles, drawing thousands of spectators from the surrounding areas and even from across the nation. These gatherings were akin to macabre festivals, with people eager to witness the ultimate price being paid for crimes committed. The gallows, a stark and imposing structure, was capable of hanging up to twelve men at once. The question on the minds of the onlookers was not simply "who would be hanged first?" but rather, "would they all be executed at the same time?" The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of dread, excitement, and morbid fascination.
One particular event stands out in the annals of Fort Smith’s history: the execution of six men on September 3, 1875. The event had been widely publicized, and in the week leading up to the execution, Fort Smith was inundated with visitors from all over the country. Reporters from major newspapers in Little Rock, St. Louis, and Kansas City flocked to the town, along with journalists from eastern and northern cities eager to capture the "scoop." By the time the execution was to take place, an estimated 5,000 people had gathered to witness the spectacle.
The six men who stood on the scaffold that day represented a cross-section of the society that Judge Parker’s court sought to tame. Three were white, two were Native American, and one was black. As they stood lined up, their death warrants were read aloud, and each was given the opportunity to offer any last words. Once the preliminaries were concluded, George Maledon meticulously adjusted the nooses around their necks. With a swift and decisive action, the trapdoor was sprung, and all six men plunged to their deaths simultaneously.
The Fort Smith Independent was the first newspaper to report on the event, emblazoning its front page with the headline "Execution Day!!" Other newspapers across the country followed suit, but their reports were often filled with shock and condemnation. Headlines screamed of the "Cool Destruction of Six Human Lives by Legal Process," reflecting the growing unease with the scale and public nature of the executions carried out under Judge Parker’s authority.
This single event cemented Judge Isaac Parker’s reputation as "The Hanging Judge" and earned his court the grim title of the "Court of the Damned." While the public flocked to witness these gruesome displays, George Maledon found himself increasingly ostracized by the community. Townsfolk, perhaps disturbed by the nature of his profession, were hesitant to associate with the "Prince of Hangmen." He became a figure of both fascination and fear, a constant reminder of the harsh realities of justice on the frontier.
Despite the general aversion to his profession, one man found himself morbidly drawn to Maledon’s expertise: Heck Thomas, a renowned lawman of the era. On one occasion, while visiting Fort Smith, Thomas sought out Maledon and requested a detailed explanation of the execution process. Maledon, seemingly eager to share his knowledge, proudly displayed his collection of leg irons, straps, and ropes that had been used in past hangings.
He even showed Thomas a particular rope that had been used in eleven executions, remarking, "It is made of the finest hemp fiber, hand made in St. Louis and treated to keep it from slipping." When Thomas inquired about the type of knot Maledon used, the executioner, clearly pleased to demonstrate his expertise, explained, "You see, a big knot is necessary to have a humane hanging. If it doesn’t break the man’s neck when he drops, he strangles. That isn’t a pretty sight. He just kicks and twists a lot." This chillingly pragmatic explanation revealed the cold and calculating nature of the man behind the title.
However, the era of public executions in Fort Smith was drawing to a close. In 1878, a 16-foot tall fence was erected around the gallows, effectively turning the executions into "private affairs" with a limited audience, usually consisting of less than 50 spectators. This change reflected a growing societal discomfort with the spectacle of public hangings and a desire for a more discreet administration of justice.
Throughout his career, Maledon carried out his duties with unwavering resolve, but there was one execution that he refused to perform: that of Sheppard Busby, a U.S. Deputy Marshal who had been convicted of killing another marshal named Barney Conneley. Maledon, who had worked alongside Busby on numerous occasions, found himself unable to carry out the sentence. In this instance, Deputy G.S. White stepped in to perform the execution.
After more than two decades of carrying out these gruesome tasks, George Maledon retired from the federal court in 1894 and opened a grocery business in Fort Smith. However, he was soon to face one of the most difficult trials of his life. In 1895, his 18-year-old daughter, Annie, was murdered by Frank Carver, a man she had met in Fort Smith while he was facing whiskey charges. The two had engaged in a brief affair, and Annie followed Carver to Muskogee, Oklahoma, only to discover that he was already married. An argument ensued, and a drunken Carver shot her. Annie was taken back to Fort Smith, where she died three weeks later.
Carver was brought before Judge Isaac Parker, found guilty of murder, and sentenced to hang. However, Carver hired a skilled lawyer who successfully appealed the case to the Supreme Court, and the sentence was reduced to life in prison. This outcome deeply angered George Maledon, who felt that justice had not been served.
Disgusted by the decision, Maledon left Fort Smith and embarked on a traveling "show" where he displayed relics from his years as an executioner, including ropes, pieces of the gallows’ beam, and photographs of notorious outlaws. Setting up a tent in various cities, he drew large crowds who were eager to hear his stories and view the gruesome artifacts.
Shortly before leaving Fort Smith, Maledon was asked if his conscience ever troubled him about the hangings or if he feared the spirits of those he had executed. To this, he replied, "No, I have never hanged a man who came back to have the job done over." This stoic and somewhat macabre response reveals a man who had come to terms with the role he had played in the administration of justice, however brutal it may have been.
By 1905, Maledon’s health was failing, and he entered an old soldier’s home in Humboldt, Tennessee, where he spent the remainder of his days. He died on May 6, 1911, and was buried at the Johnson City Cemetery.
George Maledon holds the dubious distinction of having executed more men than any other executioner in U.S. history. His name remains forever etched in the annals of the American West, a chilling reminder of the harsh realities of frontier justice and the man who became known as the "Prince of Hangmen."