The Old West death scenes of notorious desperadoes have long captivated the imaginations of historians and enthusiasts alike. There is an undeniable and grim curiosity surrounding how these figures, often living lives of violence and infamy, ultimately met their end. This fascination is perhaps as natural as the intrigue regarding their turbulent lives, offering a stark glimpse into the frontier justice of a bygone era and the final moments of those who defied it.
Among the questions asked by both allies and adversaries of these men were, “Did he die game?” and the even more telling, “Did he die with his boots on?” The latter served as a powerful test of one’s perceived or professional wickedness. A true desperado, one who embraced his reputation, was expected to die with his boots on. Conversely, honest men, or those wishing to avoid the stain of outlawry, often had their boots removed before death, even if fatally wounded, to ensure they did not depart with the stigma of a lawbreaker.
The Code of the Desperado: Dying with Boots On
The final moments of Old West desperadoes presented a spectrum of human reactions. Some remained defiant and unrepentant, while others crumbled into pleas and tears. Many of these last utterances, particularly those associated with Vigilante movements, have been lost to history. Those involved in extralegal executions rarely spoke openly about their participation, adding a shroud of mystery to many frontier justice events.
However, tradition and fragmented reports have preserved the exact words of numerous infamous figures. In the late 1870s, during the “regulator” movements in Montana, Wyoming, and Nebraska, cattlemen executed many rustlers. Their last words varied from the casual, “Give me a chew of tobacco, folks,” to the defiant, “Meet you in hell, fellows.” The remark, “So long, boys,” was also frequently heard as the noose tightened, highlighting the sometimes casual approach to death, even among those facing it.
Many of these men, though on the wrong side of the law, possessed a peculiar brand of bravery. Some even believed they were being hanged for acts they considered no crime, a testament to the complex moral landscape of the untamed West.
Fear and Begging: Henry Plummer and Dutch John Wagner
Not all desperadoes met their fate with stoicism. Henry Plummer, the notorious sheriff and leader of the “Innocents” gang, famously died in guilt and terror. His was a more sensitive nature than the hardened criminals he commanded, such as Boone Helm. Plummer reportedly begged for his life on any terms, pleading with the Vigilantes to mutilate him—cut off his ears, hands, or tongue—anything to mark him and leave him helpless, but to spare his life. He protested his wickedness, fell to his knees, cried aloud, and made desperate promises. His dramatic end certainly stripped him of any lingering glamor of courage, although courage in the Old West was often a fluid concept, with men proving brave in one moment and cowardly in another.
Dutch John Wagner, a close associate of Plummer, mirrored his chief’s behavior when faced with the gallows. He, too, begged, pleaded, and offered to endure disfigurement if only he could live. Yet, like Plummer, Wagner managed to compose himself in his final moments, asking, “How long will it take me to die? I have never seen anyone hanged.” Reassured that it would be quick and relatively painless, he reportedly found some peace. The dread of hanging was palpable among many desperadoes; records from Utah Territory, where felons could choose their method of execution (hanging, beheading, or shooting), show that prisoners invariably chose shooting, indicating a particular fear of the noose.
Defiance to the End: Ned Ray, Buck Stinson, and Jack Gallagher
In contrast to Plummer and Wagner, figures like Ned Ray and Buck Stinson faced their executioners with profanity and curses, hurling abuse until their last breath. They seemed devoid of any thought of an afterlife, consumed only by an animalistic instinct to cling to their earthly existence. Stinson, surprisingly, hailed from a respectable Indiana family and was known as a bright, studious, and well-read boy with a promising future, making his violent end and defiant exit all the more tragic.
Jack Gallagher, another member of the Plummer gang, presented an even more repulsive scene than Boone Helm in his final moments. Helm, despite his brutality, often displayed a savage bravery, but Gallagher was reportedly a coward, spending his last moments cursing his captors and wallowing in self-pity. He even attempted a macabre jest, asking a bystander, “How do I look with a halter around my neck?” He repeatedly demanded whiskey, which was granted. In a shocking display of audacity, with the noose already around his neck, he demanded “one more drink of whiskey before I die.” Disgusted, but to oblige him, the rope was slackened. “Slack off the rope, can’t you,” he cried, “and let a man have a parting drink.” He bent his head against the rope, gulped down a tumblerful, then resumed cursing his captors until they finally pulled the box from under his feet. A moment of grim humor also arose when Gallagher, on his way to the gallows, drew a pocketknife, threatening to kill himself rather than be publicly hanged. A Vigilante quickly covered him with a six-shooter, exclaiming, “Drop that, Jack, or I’ll blow your head off.” Thus, Gallagher, having ironically been offered a choice between shooting, hanging, or beheading, ultimately chose to hang.
The Virginia City Hangings: A Mass Execution
One of the most significant events in Montana’s vigilante history was the execution of five men from the Plummer gang in quick succession: Clubfoot George, Hayes Lyons, Jack Gallagher, Boone Helm, and Frank Parish. All were implicated as members of the notorious gang.
Clubfoot George and Frank Parish: Claims of Innocence
Clubfoot George and Frank Parish, upon their apprehension, claimed innocence – a common first declaration among apprehended criminals of the era. Parish died silently, while George, after spending hours with a clergyman, appeared repentant. Just before his death, he spotted a friend through a crack in a wall, called out “Goodbye, old fellow,” and then sprang to his death without waiting for the drop.
Hayes Lyons: A Woman’s Undoing
Hayes Lyons requested to see his mistress for a final goodbye, a request that was denied. He pleaded for his life until the last instant, asking that his body be taken to his mistress for burial. It was widely believed that this woman was the cause of Lyons’ downfall; he had been warned to leave the country but remained because of her. Indeed, women were frequently cited as the reason for a desperado’s capture and ultimate undoing.
Boone Helm: The Man-Eater’s End
Boone Helm, infamous for his alleged cannibalism and brutal nature, faced his death with characteristic bravado, though laced with his usual savagery. When asked for any final words, he reportedly only scoffed, maintaining his hardened demeanor to the very end.
Varied Reactions to the Noose
The collection of Old West death scenes reveals a fascinating array of human responses to imminent death. Cyrus Skinner, for instance, broke and ran on his way to the scaffold, calling on his captors to shoot him instead. They refused, proceeding with the hanging. Alex Carter, who was executed alongside Skinner, expressed disgust at Skinner’s cowardice. Carter, moments before his own death, calmly requested a smoke, then died with a lie on his lips, declaring, “I am innocent.” Such declarations, though frequent, were often seen as a desperate, blind clinging to any last possible means of escape, an instinct of self-preservation overshadowing any remorse for guilt.
Johnny Cooper, too, desired a “good smoke” before his end, which was granted. Bob Zachary died without apparent fear, praying for forgiveness from his executioners. Steve Marshland, in a plea for clemency, invoked his youth. The grim reply underscored the harsh realities of the frontier: “You should have thought of that before. You were old enough to kill, you are old enough to die.”
The Unconcerned and the Gamest: George Shears and Bill Bunton
Among the bravest was George Shears. After his capture, he appeared indifferent to his fate, remarking upon being told of his impending hanging that he should be glad it was no worse. Executed in a barn with minimal conveniences, a ladder served as the gallows. Without hesitation, Shears ascended, asking calmly, “Gentlemen, I am not used to this business, never having been hung before. Shall I jump off or slide off?” Instructed to jump, he replied, “All right. Goodbye!” and sprang off with remarkable unconcern.
Bill Bunton initially resisted arrest pugnaciously, claiming innocence, but ultimately showed great gameness. He was particular about the rope knot, dreading suffering, a common fear among those facing hanging. He asked if he could jump off the platform, and when told he could, he explained, “I care no more for hanging 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!”
Unusual Circumstances: Whiskey Bill and Bill Hunter
Whiskey Bill was afforded little opportunity for last words. He was hanged from horseback, with the noose dropped from a tree to his neck as he rode behind one of the Vigilantes. “Goodbye, Bill,” the Vigilante remarked as he spurred his horse, leaving Bill hanging.
One of the most peculiar phenomena of these executions was that of Bill Hunter, who, while hanging by the neck, went through all the motions of drawing and firing his six-shooter six times. Whether this action was conscious or an involuntary neurological response remains impossible to determine, adding another layer of mystery to the dramatic Old West death scenes.
Conclusion: The Final Act of Frontier Justice
The Old West death scenes of desperadoes offer a profound look into the final moments of men living on the fringes of society, facing an unforgiving brand of frontier justice. From defiant curses and desperate pleas to stoic acceptance and even macabre humor, the reactions recorded in these historical accounts reflect the full spectrum of human nature under the ultimate duress. These narratives are not merely historical footnotes; they are vivid testimonials to the raw, often brutal, reality of the American West, where every life, and every death, contributed to the legends that endure today.
