The Northfield Tragedy; or, the Robber's Raid / A Thrilling Narrative; A history of the remarkable attempt to rob the bank at Northfield, Minnesota; the Cold-Blooded Murder of the Brave Cashier and an Inoffensive Citizen. The Slaying of Two of the Brigands. The Wonderful Robber Hunt and Capture Graphically Described. Biographies of the Victims, the Captors & the Notorious Younger and James Gang of Desperadoes

by J. H. Hanson

OSCAR OLESON SUBORN,

is a lad of about seventeen, who said he lives about eight and one-half miles from Madelia, at Linden, Riverdale township. He said that at about seven o'clock in the morning, his father was milking, when two men came past, walking, and said “good morning” and went on. He was coming to the house with milk pails at the time and walked up to the gate, but could not see the faces of the men. But [pg 56] he could see one had a black moustache and the other red whiskers. They went past but he said, “I knew right away”

THEY WERE THE ROBBERS,

and ran out to my father and said, “there goes the robbers.” But his father said they were not, and told him to go and attend to his milking. He milked one cow and put the pail inside the gate and ran up the rode which they had gone up. His father halloed after him to come back and to take care of the cows, for if they were the robbers, they would shoot him. He ran on to Mars Ouren's, and asked if he saw the two men pass by. He said he did not see any, when the boy asked the man to go with him to see where the men had gone, but he responded by saying he had no time. He then started off alone, and told Christensen's folks about it, and went on the roof of the house to look around, but could see nobody. He then hurried up to a big hill, and still could not see anybody. When he returned, his father told him that four men had been to get something to eat,

SAYING THEY WERE HUNTERS

and fishers, and asked where they could catch the best fish. The boy ran over to Ouren's again and told them—his father objecting to his going, saying the men would shoot him. His father hitched up the horse in the wagon, but, seeing the boy so anxious to go, said he might take one of the horses and go and tell the people what he had seen, if he went the east road. He at once started for Madelia, riding at the utmost strength of the horse, which once fell and covered him with mud.

“I PICKED UP MYSELF FIRST,”

“and then the horse,” he said, “and was soon off again,” shouting to everybody to look out, the robbers were about. But no one would believe a word he said. At last he came to the hotel and saw Thomas Vought, who said they might believe him, because he always spoke the truth. He then gave up his horse and returned in a wagon. The people left him to take care of the horses, and they went down to the north branch of the river, by Andrew Andersen's. He heard the shooting, but saw nothing till the men were caught.

DURING THE WHOLE NIGHT

the utmost order prevailed, and no word was spoken of lynching, everybody stating that if such a thing was attempted, they would protect the prisoners with their lives. An inquest was held on the dead man and a verdict found in substance that the man met with his death from the hand of one of the citizens of Madelia while resisting arrest.

THE ROBBERS' LEVEE.

The next morning the Flanders House was literally crammed with [pg 57] eager people, anxious to see the captive bandits, and the street in front was thronged with an equally anxious crowd.

Cole Younger frankly acknowledged their identity, saying that he was Cole, born the 15th of January, 1844. The man lying by his side, he said, was his brother James, and the other, slightly wounded, Robert, their respective ages being 28 and 22 years.

THEY HELD A LEVEE

in their chambers, hundreds of people passing up to see them, old men and youths, aged ladies and young maidens, and a more singular sight is seldom witnessed. Many believe in their contrition. Both brothers spoke in feeling tones of their dead mother and living sister, and this touched the women wonderfully.

Neither would say who the dead man was, excusing themselves by stating it is a point with them never to speak of each other's affairs, only of their own.

The writer mentioned to them that the other two,

THE JAMES BROTHERS

were captured, one dead and the other dying. This seemed to affect them. Cole asked who was dead, the smaller or larger of the two, adding the caution, “mind I don't say they are the James brothers.” When the writer said that they had acknowledged who they were, Cole then asked, “Did they say anything of us.” When answered in the negative, he replied,

“GOOD BOYS TO THE LAST.”

A photograph of the two men killed at Northfield was shown them, and they were told that the shorter was recognized by Kansas City people as Chadwell, and the taller as Miller; also stating that Hazen said the taller was Pitts.

Cole said “they were good likenesses, and cannot but be recognized, but both detectives were wrong.” He then added, “Don't misunderstand me; I did not say neither of them was Miller, but there is no Pitts there”.

No excitement was feared at Madelia. In fact, there was too much sympathy shown, and every kindness was bestowed upon the captive bandits. Caution was, however, taken to prevent their escape,

ARMED SENTINELS

being placed at the foot of the stairs and about the house.

Friday, in this brave, plucky, generous little town of Madelia, was a day which will long be remembered, not only by the staunch hearts and true of the town, but also by hundreds upon hundreds of visitors, who then for the first time trod its streets, attracted there by the [pg 58] widespread news which suddenly raised the obscure name to a high position upon the roll of fame.

The self-sacrificing heroism of six men made the fame of Colais in the olden time, and the plucky

COURAGE OF SEVEN MEN

has wrung from grudging fortune the renown of Madelia to-day; for throughout the length and breadth of the land, and wherever the pulsations of the electric message-bearer—the nervous system of civilization—was felt, the bosom of generous sentiment swelled with approbation, gratitude, and pride, when the tale of the cool dash and unselfish bravery of those seven Madelians was told. The united voices and hearts of the whole nation swell with gratitude and laudations for Madelia's sturdy heroism.

All day Friday and all the night previous, there was a constant and ever-changing stream of visitors passing through the rooms occupied by Madelia's fated captives. One could but speculate with wonder upon the source of such an inexhuastible human stream.

Not an inconsiderable moiety of the great total of visitors was of the gentler sex, and to one watching with interest the great bandits' matinee and evening receptions, the changing expressions upon the eager, expectant and occasionally indignant countenances of visitors, was of singular interest. A strong, energetic man would enter with knitted brow, and stern, unrelenting features, who would be followed by a timid, half-fearful, half-loathing woman's face. Then there were angry faces, curious faces, bold, proud faces—faces exhibiting every phase of human passion and human temperament—but they had scarcely passed the threshhold of either prison chamber wherein lay the objects of all-absorbing curiosity, when lo! presto! a metamorphose as sudden as it was complete, and as radical as it was rapid, had taken place. Doubt, wonder, and astonishment would grow into

SYMPATHY,

and often admiration. It is safe to say that out of every hundred visitors who looked only for a few seconds upon those daring and notorious men, ninety-nine came away with very different, almost opposite opinions concerning the lawless Younger brothers.

Was it really true that anger, malice, revenge, cruelty, hard, unyielding, implacable hatred ever marred such countenances!—that cold, murderous, steel-like scintillations ever beamed from those eyes? Was it possible that blasphemous execrations and hellish denunciations ever polluted such voices and blistered those pleasant tongues? Was it really true that those three intelligent men—courteous and affable—had plotted and executed some of the most cold-blooded, atrocious diabolisms ever known in modern times? Questions, perhaps, like [pg 59] these, were asked of themselves by hundreds of visitors yesterday, and left unanswered satisfactorily.

COLE YOUNGER

was more demonstrative than either of the rest. He always respected religion, he told one lady. His mother, he said, was a good, praying, Christian woman, and two of his uncles were Methodist ministers.

To another who urged him to pray for himself, for although “the prayers of the righteous availeth much,” salvation must necessarily depend upon himself, he said: “I conceive prayer to exist in every action, every thought, and considering the eventful life I have led, I cannot say I have been a praying man. A splendid theme for earnest sermons,” he continued, “is that divine mandate, ‘Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.’ ”

To another lady he said: “It is not my raising, but from the”

FORCE OF CIRCUMSTANCES,

“I am what I am. Accused of all manner of crimes before I had committed one, I am like the Wandering Jew.”

In expressing his gratitude for the kindness manifested by the ladies and the people generally, he said: “It takes a brave man to fight a battle, but a braver man to treat well a fallen foe.”

Every lady that entered his room he greeted courteously, and as she was leaving, he would ask her to pray for him and his brother—when James would chime in, “Not for us, never mind us, but pray for our dear sister.”

To a group of ladies who shrinkingly looked upon the two wounded men, Cole said: “Ladies, this is a terrible sight.” When one asked him in trembling, gentle tones, “Do your wounds pain you?” his reply was, “Wounds do not trouble me, madam; I would as leave die as be a prisoner.”

WHEN ASKED ABOUT HEYWOOD,

he said that ninety-nine out of a hundred would have opened the safe. “At least,” he added, “I know I would.”

Asked why Heywood was shot, he said, “he supposed the man who shot him, whoever he might be, thought Heywood was going to shoot him. The fact that the man was on the counter and turned round, as the papers say, and shot him, is sufficient proof of this. Heywood went to his desk and the man thought chat he was about to take a pistol out of the desk.” “That was an unfortunate affair,” he continued, “and the man who did it, no doubt regretted it immediately.”

BOB YOUNGER,

the youngest brother, is not disposed to talk cant, but answers questions frankly and promptly when directed to his own affairs, but he [pg 60] will not answer a word about any other member of the gang. When asked if he did not think Heywood a brave fellow, he remarked that he thought he acted from fear throughout. He was too much frightened to open the safe, or he could not do it. He (Bob) was was of the opinion that Heywood could not open the safe, and he did not wish to go any further with that job. When asked

WHY HEYWOOD WAS SHOT,

he said it was not on account of revenge, but simply in self-defense, “for what object could there be in such a cold-blooded crime, when the party must be the sufferers. It was a very unfortunate affair for us,” he said.

Bob did not hesitate to answer any question proposed to him which concerned himself. He volunteered the statement that he was one of the three who entered the bank, and it was he who tried to keep Manning from firing up the street. Being asked if he was not considered a good shot, he said he had always considered himseif a good marksman, but he thought that he would now have to forego all claim to being a crack-shot, after considering the unusually bad shooting he made in the bush when captured.

To the boy who put the Mankato men upon the track, Cole extended his hand, and said:

“READ YOUR BIBLE,”

“my lad, and follow its precepts. Do not let them lead you astray. For your part in our capture I freely forgive you.”

Every opportunity he could get when ladies were present, he would ask them to pray for him, and he would incessantly talk on religious subjects and his previous history, laying the blame of his position to the “force of circumstances,” tracing the beginning of his trouble to the “murder of his father by a band of militia thieves.”

He said that many of the great crimes for which he and his companions were blamed, he had nothing at all to do with.

There were not a few of the visitors who were of the opinion that Cole Younger was

FOXING IT,

and that he was trying to play off the “pious dodge,” awakening commisseration and sympathy from the tender-hearted and religious. The asperity and bitter irony shown when a lady less sympathizing and more matter of-fact than most of his visitors spoke severely of his disgraceful position and degraded life led many to think that Cole is a consumate actor and an arch hypocrite.

When asked why they went to the Northfield bank, and whether it was not more risky than even Mankato banks, he said he told the others at the first that it was

A DANGEROUS UNDERTAKING,

and if they had taken his advice, they would not have gone out to [pg 61] Northfield. There was no means of getting away, for the roads were bad and the woods filled with lakes and sloughs. It would have been better for the band to have gone across the prairie from Mankato, for then they would have had some $30 each.

He was asked if he had tried to shoot any one, when he pointed out the fact that seven of the men were almost within hand's-reach of them, and asked what good would it have done him if all the seven were killed. There were men enough at long range with rifles to shoot him and his party down at their leisure.

While Bob Younger was conversing with the writer, a poor woman came into the room, sobbing, “Don't you know me?” she said, addressing Bob.

“No, madame, I have not that pleasure,” said Bob.

“Don't you know me?” reiterated the woman between her sobs.

“Indeed, I cannot recollect you, madame,” replied Bob, gently.

“Don't you remember the woman who gave you bread and butter?” she asked.

“Oh yes, certainly; and most thankful were we for it,” he replied.

“Oh, forgive me, sir,” she sobbed, “indeed, I did not intend to do it.”

“I have nothing to forgive,” said Bob; “you were very kind to us and we shall not forget it.”

“But forgive me, sir,” she persisted, “I did not mean to betray you.”

“Why, really, madam, we never supposed you did. We did not blame you at all. We are only very grateful for what you did for us.”

“But, sir. it was because you were at our house you were caught; but it”

WAS NOT MY FAULT,

“indeed it was not.”

Bob, concerned, “I hope you won't trouble about it, madam. It is nothing. We cast the die and lost, and do not blame you in the least. We are only very thankful for what you did.”

“But forgive me,” persisted the poor woman, “I am so sorry,” and she began again to shed tears.

“I have nothing to forgive, only to be grateful for,” said Bub, “but if it will make you feel better, I will say I forgive you,”

The poor woman seemed to be greatly relieved and left the room, when Bob turned round to the writer with a concerned and troubled look, and asked the woman's name.

“Mrs. Suborn, the mother of the lad who informed the people of your whereabouts,” was the reply.

“I shall never forget that name,” said Bob.

The cashier of the First National Bank of Mankato coming in asked Bob if he did not change a bill at his bank. Bob replied promptly that he did—a $50 bill, “But” said he, “you were not in the bank at the time, we were, however, merely giving you a call, only a little [pg 62] matter prevented it, and we unfortunately went to Northfield instead.” The cashier asked what their intentions were in Mankato. To which Bob replied that they intended to go through both banks—the City and First National, and he thought that it would have been a much safer job than the Northfield. No doubt the “little circumstance” he alluded to as destroying their plans was the fact of Jesse James being recognized by Robinson, as related elsewhere.

Friday evening at supper time, when the dining hall of the hotel was crowded, at one of the table, there were dark whispers and ominous

THREATS OF LYNCHING,

and some talk, of several hundred people coming up from St. Paul and Northfield to carry out the disgraceful threat. This was sufficient to rouse the precautionary energy of Sheriff Glispin, who at once appointed an armed guard, which filled the entire hotel. The guard and the populace generally were determined to protect their prisoners to the bitter end, if the worst came to the worst, and at half past eight o'clock the hotel was cleared, but on the arrival of the 9 p. m. train, it was found that the rowdies had either missed the train, or had abandoned the scheme, or the whole thing, (which was most probable) was a hoax.

The talk at the supper table arose from a man recently from Mankato, asserting that the scoundrels should be lynched, offering to bet $500 that they would be strung up before morning. It was said that the man was intoxicated, but that was no palliation of his brutish threat.

DISPOSITION OF THE CAPTIVES.

As soon as the news of the capture was received at St. Paul, Captain Macy, secretary to the Governor, telegraphed the executive, then at the Centennial, the fact. The Governor promptly responded, directing Capt. Macy to order the Madelia authorities to bring their prisoners, with the body of the dead bandit to this city. Capt. Macy spent about two hours in telegraphing with the sheriff of the county, who at first strongly opposed the removal, partly on the ground the wounded men were not in a condition to be moved, but principally from a fear that had somehow taken possession of the minds of those taking part in the capture, that their removal to St. Paul would invalidate their claim for the reward offered for their arrest. To this latter objection Capt. Macy answered that the Governor would be responsible for the preservation of all their rights, upon which the Sheriff telegraphed they would be sent down by the morning train, on a sleeper tendered for that purpose, by Supt. Lincoln. Later, however, the sheriff, in consultation with citizens, changed his mind, and determined to send his prisoners on to Faribault, the county seat of Rice county. Accordingly they were placed in the cars at Madelia on Saturday morning, and at every station en route a curious and eager mob awaited the [pg 63] arrival of the train, anxious to get a glimpse of the notorious freebooters. At Mankato, half the city turned out, and arrangements were made at the depot for the crowd to pass through and feast their eyes upon the big show.

At Faribault the crowd was comparatively small, owing, perhaps, to the fact that they were unexpectedly brought on by a freight train, but when it got generally noised about that the infamous desperadoes were lodged in the jail, people of all classes and both sexes thronged the building anxious to gain admittance.

AT ST. PAUL,

Capt. Macy received a telegram from Sheriff Barton, of Rice county, as follows: “I start for Madelia in half an hour. Will bring them by St. Paul.”

Saturday morning thereafter, about eleven o'clock crowds began to gather along the bluffs and on the bridge and in any position in which a view of the Sioux City train (on which it was supposed the robbers were being brought to the city) could be obtained. The train was seen crossing the river and immediately the crowd commenced swarming like a hive of bees. As the train approached, and when it came in front of the open space above the upper elevator, the rear platform of the cars appeared to be crowded with people, one man waving a roll of white paper. Then the excitement seemed to culminate. Crowds rushed down the streets in danger of being crushed under the wheels of buggies, wagons and vehicles of all descriptions, which dashed down the streets at a rate which set all ordinances at defiance, and scattered the mud around in a promiscuous manner. At reaching the levee a crowd of fully three thousand people in a terrible state of excitement, were assembled, some climbing up on the still moving train in spite of all efforts of the officers to prevent them, while others ran ahead of the engine and alongside. It soon became evident, however, that the prisoners were not aboard, and a rumor got afloat that they had been taken off the train at Chestnut street and brought to the county jail from thence.

Then there was a scattering among the crowd, and a race was made for the jail, where the moving mass was equally disappointed. Here a large number of persons had already congregated and secured seats around the several entrances of the portico of the Court House, and everywhere where there was a chance of seeing anything.

Here they waited patiently for a while, when some one started a story that the prisoners would be brought through the Fifth street entrance, and a run was made up Cedar street for that point. On arriving there they were assured that no prisoners had been brought into the jail through that entrance, and the idea began to creep through their brains that they had been badly sold. Some, however, could not be persuaded but that they would be smuggled into the building, when the crowd had dispersed, and after waiting for a considerable time [pg 64] longer, reluctantly coming to the conclusion that there was no chance for them to satisfy their curiosity with a sight of the desperadoes, slowly and reluctantly left the ground, and the square surrounding the jail was soon abandoned to its usual and casual passers by and occupants of the several offices.

The dead man, Charley Pitts, was brought on to St. Paul and placed under the care of Dr. Murphy, Surgeon General of the State, for embalming. He was exhibited to an admiring throng of St. Paulites, who being disappointed in not having the big show of real live bandits, were obliged to content themselves with the dead one.

MR. JAMES MCDONOUGH,

chief of police at St. Louis; a member of the police force of that city; and Mr. C. B. Hunn, superintendent of the U. S. express company, arrived in St. Paul on Saturday morning. These gentlemen came for the purpose of establishing the identity of the robbers. They were satisfied those killed at Northfield, were Bill Chadwell and Clell Miller, immediately recognizing their photographs.

Chief McDonough is a straight, fleshy gentleman, with a military bearing, a keen eye, and the appearance of a man possessed of the executive ability requisite to control and conduct so great a force of men, (over five hundred,) as compose the splendid police force of the city of St. Louis. He had obtained from Hobbs Kerry, one of the gang engaged in the bold raid on the train at Otterville, Mo., July 7th, detailed descriptions of the other members of the gang, and early yesterday morning he visited the capitol to view the body lying there. As soon as he looked upon it he recognized it as Charley Pitts, whose real name is George Wells. Every mark was found as detailed by the captured robber, and the chief was evidently pleased to find that he had succeeded in getting so much truth out of one of the members of a gang whose honor is pledged not to “peach” on their comrades. One of the most noticeable peculiarities of Pitts, who is a man of most powerful build, is his extremely short, thick feet. They require but number six boots, and look inadequate to support the ponderous form above. His hands, which are also small and fat, were roughened by work, and covered with black hair, exactly as Kerry had said. From Mr. McDonough, it was learned that Pitts is one of the men who are summoned when “dirty work” is on hand. His home is in Texas, and he is known as one of the boldest and most successful horse thieves in the country. His knowledge of horses is so great, that the care of the stock of the gang is always confided to him.

DETECTIVES' TRIP TO FARIBAULT.

Having decided the identity of Pitts, the officers returned to the Merchants' Hotel, and it was arranged that a special train should be [pg 65] procured to transport them, in company with several officials of this city, and a few well known citizens, to Faribault to interview his

BROTHERS IN CRIME.

The train was ready at about 1:30, Superintendent Lincoln having, at very short notice, provided an engine and an elegant passenger coach. Among the few that took passage in the train, were Chief McDonough, Mr. Russell, and Superintendent Hunn, of the United States Express Company, all of St. Louis; Mayor Maxfield, Chief King, Captain Webber, Captain Macs, Dr. Murphy, Col. John L. Merriam and his sons, W, R. Merriam, cashier of the Merchant's National Bank, and master John L., Jr., who was with his father at the time of the Gad's Hill robbery three years ago; Superintendent Lincoln (who was also a victim of the same raid), Col. Hewitt, R. C. Munger, H. H. Spencer, of West Wisconsin railroad; Mayor Ames, of Northfield, and

A LARGE NUMBER OF LADIES,

who desired to look upon the desperate fellows, but who evinced no more curiosity than their male comrades.

The run to Faribault was accomplished at about 4 o'clock. During the ride a most open discussion of the situation of the affair took place, and there was no concealment of the disappointment felt of any of the bandits being taken alive, and the desire was freely expressed that the three

BLOODY BANDITS

should not be permitted to take advantage of the clemency which the laws of Minnesota afford to a self-convicted murderer.

The news that a special train was en route had been kept so quiet, that on arriving at Faribault, no persons were at the depot except the officers of the road and Mr. Case, with several omnibuses. It had been arranged that only a select few should visit the jail with the detectives, and but eight persons, including the writer were admitted, the remainder of the party separating and seeking a lunch before they interviewed the outlaws.

During the entire day there had been a constant stream of visitors from the adjacent country, who came in all sorts of conveyances, the citizens of Faribault giving way to them and awaiting a quieter time to call on their distinguished guests.

The jail was surrounded by men and women when the chosen delegation arrived, but by an arrangement with Sheriff Barton, the crowd was restrained, and the St. Louis gentlemen, Mayor Maxfield, Chief King, Captain Macy, Dr. Murphy, Messrs. Lincoln and Merriam, and representatives of the St. Paul dailies were admitted.

On entering, Bob Younger was found sitting near the corner of the cage, quietly smoking a cigar with a newspaper on his lap. Cole was [pg 66] lying on a pallet at the end of the twenty foot jail outside the cage, with a cigar in his mouth and a daily paper before him. The lazy bandit was being fanned by a boy, and seemed wonderfully comfortable. The third man was lying on a cot just inside the bars, and was evidently suffering severely from the wound in his mouth.

Cole Younger was found communicative as usual. Chief King, showed him pictures of the two James boys, taken eight years since, and he immediately knew them, but said nobody would recognize them from those pictures now. On looking at his own picture he acknowledged it as one of the best he ever had taken, but when he looked at that of Charley Pitts, he said he knew no man of that name. Chief King said: “But you know this man as Wells,” when Cole responded, “There are Wellses in every part of the country.”

At this time Mr. Ames, of Faribault, came up and asked what part he took in the affair at Northfield. He declined to tell. Mr. A. then said he thought he rode a white faced horse, and was the man that shot the Swede. Cole denied this. Ames said that man was observed as the best horseman of the crowd. Younger then said one man was as good a rider as another. He was raised on a saddle, his father having been a herder and stock man, and besides, he had served several years in the cavalry. The gentlemen then spoke of the killing of Heywood as a cowardly act. Cole said it was the result of impulse, as they did not intend to kill anybody. Their plan was to accomplish their ends by dash, and boldness, and to do the robbing while men were frightened. This was denied by the Northfield man, who claimed that they tried hard to kill Manning. Cole then said that they did not try to kill him, using his name as if he knew all about it, but fired all around him. Mr. Ames said that could not be true, as shots were found in the railing of the stairs behind which Manning stood. Younger denied this, and said they desired to kill no man, as it would be of no use to them. Ames then said he believed they had killed a hundred men, when Cole said he had no time to talk with such a man, he had been captured by brave men, and was being treated better than he deserved, that he did not fear death, but hoped to be prepared for a better world. He said he was tired and needed rest. At this, an impulsive gentleman standing by said he wished he would soon take his long rest. Cole seemed offended at this, and said it was “of no” use to talk to illiterate people, they could not

“APPRECIATE A SUBLIME LIFE!”

Cole said he did not ride his fine horse up here, but bought the one he rode of French, of St. Peter. When told by a visitor that they did bad shooting, he said if they would prop him up at the side of the road he would plug his hat with his left hand at ten rods every time. He said he was the man that took the pistols from the dead man at Northfield; and said he took his handkerchief out of his belt as he took it [pg 67] off. He declined to tell the name of the dead man, as it was understood none should tell about another dead or alive.

Col Merriam sat by the side of Cole, and said, “Younger, I am not certain, but I think I have seen you before.” “Where was this?” said Cole. The Colonel said it was at Gad's Hill three years ago when the raid was made on the train. This, Cole denied, and said that at that time he was in St. Clair county, in Southwestern Missouri, where his uncle, Judge Younger resides. He said he would refer to his uncle, who is a judge, and was a member of the legislature, and also to a minister there. He further said that on the day of that raid he and his brother Robert were there, and that he preached in the afternoon, commencing at four o'clock.

Col. Merriam feels sure that Cole was there, judging from his figure, his hair, and particularly by his voice. Mr. Lincoln is also certain that he was one of the men on the train at that time, although he wore a cloth with eye holes over his face. Master Merriam, who was also on the train, is not certain, but thinks he has seen the villain.

Bob Younger was asked if he was in the Gad's hill raid, but denied it, saying he was in Louisiana at that time, thus contradicting Cole. Bob says he is a novice, and has only been in a few scrapes.

While some of the visitors were talking with the boys, Mr. McDonough, his aid, and Dr. Murphy, were examining the prisoners for marks of identification, and no trouble was experienced in placing Cole and Bob Younger, but the identity of the one that claimed to be Jim, was doubted by the detectives, as James was badly wounded in the hip on the 7th of July last, and they thought he could not possibly be able to stand a campaign like this at present. They were of the opinion that he was Cal. Carter, a Texas desperado, and one that has seldom worked with a gang until lately.

Every point of identification as given by Hobbs Kerry, was discovered on the Younger boys, even to the ragged wound on Bob's hand, where the thumb had been torn off and badly attended to.

Dr. Murphy said none were dangerously injured, and “are sure to get well unless he doctors them.” He made a careful examination and said they had only flesh wounds, and that the men could be about in a few days. None of the prisoners were shackled, and as the writer came out (he being the last one of the visitors), Cole Younger got up from his bed and walked across the jail as lively as he.

When the robbers were captured their clothes and boots were found in a bad state. The three living robbers had each five dollars in their pockets, and the dead one had one dollar and a half. According to the statement of Bob Younger, all of the money, watches and jewelry they had was given to the two robbers that escaped, as they felt that their chances of getting away were much the best.

IMPRISONMENT AND TRIAL.

Great fears were entertained that the Rice county jail at Faribault, [pg 68] would not be of sufficient strength to hold the three famous bandit brothers, of whose great desperation and accomplishment in the art of prison breaking, the most wonderful and exaggerated stories were circulated throughout the State. Sheriff Ara Barton, however, did not hesitate to accept his distinguished boarders, and probably a thought of their escape from him never entered his mind. He had the bandits in his care, and he proceeded in the most systematic manner to provide for their remaining with him. No effort was made to strengthen the jail, but a series of guards was arranged so that the inside and outside were both constantly under the eye of watchful guards. The only fears entertained by those having the robbers in charge, were that there might be efforts made from the outside, either by a mob who would seek to lynch the brigands, or by their own friends, who would undertake to liberate them. For both cases, Sheriff Barton was prepared.

A COMPANY OF MINUTE MEN

was formed by citizens of the city, and the bell of an adjacent engine house was connected with the guard room of the jail by a wire. In case of any attack, these fifty men, armed with repeating rifles, were to rendezvous at a certain point from whence, under their captain, they would proceed in order to the jail. Another wise precaution taken by the Sheriff was in the locking of the doors of the jail, which are about 18 inches apart. He kept the key of the inner one himself, while the guard inside retained that of the outside door. At a private signal, the guard would reach through and unlock the outer one, when the Sheriff would find use for his key on the inner one. Several guards kept constant watch night and day around the jail, and at its entrance, a cannon loaded with a blank cartridge stood, ready to give a general alarm. As an instance of how perfect the arrangements were, it may be stated that on one occasion when the fire bell sounded, in less than three minutes the jail was surrounded by men, some carrying guns, some bludgeons, and some farm tools. Any party foolish enough to have undertaken the rescue of those

THREE BANDITS,

would have been made short work of, while a mob, with the intention of disposing of them unlawfully, would have been met with a determined opposition, for the entire male population of Faribault were determined to support the Sheriff, and bring the murderers to trial.

Notice of the arrangements about the prison were published, and all people were warned from approaching the jail in the night time, but one man, belonging to the police force of the city, thought he was so well known to the guards that he could safely visit them, and one evening he walked toward the prison. One of the guards challenged him, but instead of replying, he raised his hand to his coat, to make his silver star visible, and at the same moment, the guard mistaking the movement and supposing that the man was reaching to his breast pocket [pg 69] for a pistol, fired, inflicting a wound that proved fatal soon afterwards. Thus was another tragedy added to the list, and the horror of the affair was intensified.

Thus for a month everything moved quietly along about Governor Barton's hotel, and he remained unmoved by the hundreds of threats and propositions he received. He is a brave man made of stern stuff, and when a proposition was made to him to remain neutral while a posse that was being organized, opened the jail and took the bandits out to

THE NEAREST TREE,

he coolly told their messenger, who was a prominent man in the State, and a personal friend of his, “that if they came, no matter who they were, they would be shot down like dogs.” This remark was repeated to the party who proposed the lynching, by Mayor Nutting, and people began to think it was best to abandon the project of anticipating the law, while the Younger boys remained in such hands. However, there is no doubt but that a summary disposal of these bloody cut-throats would have been widely endorsed by the best men of the State, as the feeling existed that no villians ever merited death more than they, while under the law of Minnesota, they could escape with a life sentence, with the possibilities of escape or pardon.

INSIDE THE JAIL.

Under the best of medical care the Younger boys rapidly recovered from their wounds, and in less than two weeks, Cole and Jim were up and about, looking as well as ever, except that Cole had suffered a partial paralysis of the right eye, which had a wild, rolling look, and which was forced forward to an unpleasant prominence, caused by the buckshot that still remained in his head, and which he refused to allow the Doctors to remove, as he said they did not incommode him.

Jim's wounds on the outside of his face healed finely, and he proved to be a mild, pleasant and inoffensive fellow, appearing entirely incapable of such bloody work as that in which he had taken part, and strengthening the belief in the story that he had been prevailed upon contrary to his inclination. All of his back teeth had been carried away by the shot, and the roof of his mouth shattered, causing him much inconvenience in talking and eating, but his appetite was good, and he managed to do full justice to the liberal rations his hospitable host provided.

Bob enjoyed perfect general health, but the wound through the elbow of his right arm promised to incapacitate him, as it was rigidly stiff. The surgeons decided on a severe operation, and Bob carelessly submitted while the joint was broken and re-set. Then a hinge-like holder was placed around the wounded limb, and by slightly moving the joint each day, the arm was saved, and he is now able to make himself useful at light work in the State prison.

The bandits occupied the jail with a number of other prisoners, and [pg 70] were kept inside a series of strong iron bars that divided the cells from the corridor. Manacles were kept upon their legs, and the eye of a guard was never off them. They occupied their time in reading and writing, and Cole devoted himself almost constantly to reading the Bible, taking occasional instruction from the revised statutes of the State, relating the punishment of murderers. All were humble and patient, except that the independent Bob, when the subject of hanging was under discussion, would boldly claim that “they could not hang him for what he never did.”

IN COURT.

On the 7th day of November, the district court of Rice county convened in Faribault. Judge Sam'l Lord presiding. The first duty of the sheriff, was to present the names of twenty-two grand jurors, which he did on the 8th inst.

The Younger brothers had engaged Mr. Thomas Rutledge, of Madelia, as their counsel, and had subsequently associated with him, Messrs. Batchelder and Buckham, of Faribault, two of the most eminent lawyers of the State. The prosecution was in the hands of George N. Baxter, Esq., the county attorney of Rice county, and he had woven a strong chain of evidence about the prisoners, having traced them and their comrades through all their journeying from the time they entered the State until the raid was made.

The prisoners' counsel had long interviews with their clients, and it was generally understood that, in case they were indicted for murder in the first degree, they would plead “not guilty.” This was taking a risk, as in case they were found guilty, the death penalty could be inflicted at the option of the jury, and it would have been difficult to find a jury but that would have quickly pronounced a doom so much in accordance with public sentiment.

The county attorney, Mr. Baxter, drew and presented four indictments for the consideration of the grand jury, one charging them collectively with being accessory to the murder of Heywood, a second, charging them with attacking Bunker with intent to do great bodily injury; a third, charging them with robbing the bank at Northfield; and a fourth, charging Cole with the murder of the Swede, and his brothers as accessories.

When Cole Younger read the last named indictment, he appeared greatly affected, and said that he had not expected such a bill, as he did not kill the Swede. He said it had probably been done by accident, as none of them shot to kill. From the time the indictments were read by Cole, he became low-spirited, and studied the statutes and consulted with his lawyers more than before. Bob kept up, and declared that he would not plead guilty in any case.

THE GRAND JURY

that had been summoned included twenty two of the best men in the [pg 71] county, but the prisoner's counsel reduced it to seventeen, by challenging a number who had too freely expressed their ideas in regard to the affair. There is no doubt but that by continuing the same line of questioning the grand jury could have all been found wanting, but it was not the intention of the defense to delay the trial by reducing the number below the legal minimum, but simply to refer the bills to as few men as possible, feeling that the chance of their finding all of the indictments could be materially lessened.

It took the jury but a very short time after they commenced their work to find four true bills against the prisoners, and the evidence given by the witnesses that testified before them, was but a recapitulation of what they were entirely familiar with. In the case of the Swede, whom Cole Younger was charged with killing, evidence was given by a man and a woman, both of whom testified that they saw Cole shoot him coolly and deliberately.

IN THE COURT ROOM.

On the day after the court convened, the sister and an aunt of the Younger boys arrived in Faribault. The sister, Miss Henrietta Younger, is a very pretty, prepossessing young lady of about seventeen years, and she conducted herself so as to win the esteem of all who met her. Mrs. Fanny Twyman, their aunt, is the wife of a highly respectable physician practicing in Missouri, and appears to be a lady of the highest moral character. These ladies passed the greater portion of their time sitting with their relatives, behind the iron bars, reading, talking and sewing. On Thursday, the 9th of November, the grand jury signified that they had completed their labors as far as the cases of the Younger boys were concerned, and the sheriff was instructed to bring the prisoners to hear the indictments read.

This summons had been expected, and the boys were ready, dressed neatly, and looking wonderfully well after their unaccustomed confinement that had continued for more than a month. They quietly stood up in a row ready to be shackled together. Cole in the middle, Bob at the right, and Jim at the left. The shackles were placed on their feet; Bob being secured by one foot to Cole, and Jim by the other. When the handcuffs were placed on Cole, he remarked, that it was the first time he had ever worn them. The prisoners showed signs of nervousness, evidently fearing that the crowd outside would think it best to dispose of them without due process of law. However, nothing occurred except some almost inaudible mutterings among the spectators, but which were quickly quieted by right-minded citizens. Slowly the procession passed to the temple of justice, the prisoners seeing the sun and breathing the pure air for the first time in thirty days. In advance of them was an armed guard, led by the captain of the minute men, then came the sheriff by the side of his prisoners, the chief of police of Faribault, and his lieutenant, and finally another squad of minute men with their needle guns. On reaching the court-house, the guards [pg 72] broke to the right and left, and allowed none to enter except those known to their captain.

The cortege passed to the court room by a rear stairway, and when the prisoners arrived in front of the Judge, the court-room was thoroughly filled with people, all gazing with the greatest curiosity on the three

BLOODY BROTHERS.

The shackles having been removed from the arms and legs of the prisoners, they were ordered to stand up while the indictment charging them with killing Heywood, was read to them by the county attorney. As their names were read, the Judge asked them if they were indicted by their true names, to which all responded in the affirmative. During the reading, Cole Younger never moved his sharp eye from the face of the attorney, in fact, his gaze was so intense, that Mr. Baxter appeared to feel it, and to be made somewhat nervous thereby. Bob did not appear to take great interest in the matter, and he gazed coolly about on the crowd.

The sister and aunt of the boys were by their sides during this scene, and they walked with them as they returned to the jail under the same guard that escorted them forth. Until the following Saturday had been taken by the prisoners' counsel to plead to the indictment, and during the interval of three days the subject of how to plead was discussed for many hours. Bob was as independent as ever, declared he would not plead guilty, but the persuasions of sister and aunt finally prevailed, and when taken into court on Saturday in the same manner as before, each responded

“GUILTY,”

when the question was asked by the clerk. Judge Lord then, without preface or remark, sentenced each to be confined in the State Prison, at Stillwater, at hard labor, for the term of his natural Life. After the dread words had been uttered, the sister broke down and fell sobbing and moaning on the breast of her brother Cole.

Thus these bloody bandits escaped the gallows where their many crimes should have been expiated, and in a few days from the time they were sentenced, they were on their way to Stillwater, under a strong guard, but no attempt was made to molest them, although large crowds were collected at each station on the railroads by which they traveled. Sheriff Barton knew well the citizens of his State, and he had no fear that he would be interfered with while discharging his duty. The bandits were accompanied to their final home in this world by their faithful relatives, who left them within the prison walls, taking away as mementoes the clothes which the wicked men had worn. The robbers were immediately set at work painting pails, a labor which called for no dangerous tools to prosecute, and a special guard was set upon the renowned villains, as it is not intended that they shall escape to again terrify the world by their wicked deeds.

JOSEPH LEE HEYWOOD.

[pg 73]