The vigilantes of Montana; Or, popular justice in the Rocky Mountains / Being a correct and impartial narrative of the chase, trial, capture and execution of Henry Plummer's road agent band, together with accounts of the lives and crimes of many of the robbers and desperadoes, the whole being interspersed with sketches of life in the mining camps of the "Far West"

by Thos. J. Dimsdale

PREFACE.

The object of the writer in presenting this narrative to the public, is twofold. His intention is, in the first place, to furnish a correct history of an organization administering justice without the sanction of constitutional law; and secondly, to prove not only the necessity for their action, but the equity of their proceedings.

Having an intimate acquaintance with parties cognizant of the facts related, and feeling certain of the literal truth of the statements contained in this history, he offers it to the people of the United States, with the belief that its perusal will greatly modify the views of those even who are most prejudiced against the summary retribution of mountain law, and with the conviction that all honest and impartial men will be willing to admit both the wisdom of the course pursued and the salutary effect of the rule of the Vigilantes in the Territory of Montana.

It is also hoped that the history of the celebrated body, the very mention of whose name sounded as a death-knell in the ears of the murderers and Road Agents, will be edifying and instructive to the general reader. The incidents related are neither trivial in themselves, nor unimportant in their results; and, while rivaling fiction in interest, are unvarnished accounts of transactions, whose fidelity can be vouched by thousands.

As a literary production, the author commits it to the examination of the critical without a sigh. If any of these author-slayers are inclined to be more severe in their judgment than he is himself, he trusts they will receive the reward to which their justice entitles them; and if they should pass it by, he cannot but think that they will exercise a sound discretion, and avoid much useless labor. With all its imperfections, here it is.

Thos. J. Dimsdale.

CHAPTER I.
Introductory—Vigilance Committees.

“The teeth that bite hardest are out of sight.”—Prov.

The end of all good government is the safety and happiness of the governed. It is not possible that a high state of civilization and progress can be maintained unless the tenure of life and property is secure; and it follows that the first efforts of a people in a new country for the inauguration of the reign of peace, the sure precursor of prosperity and stability, should be directed to the accomplishment of this object. In newly settled mining districts, the necessity for some effective organization of a judicial and protective character is more keenly felt than it is in other places, where the less exciting pursuits of agriculture and commerce mainly attract the attention and occupy the time of the first inhabitants.

There are good reasons for this difference. The first is the entirely dissimilar character of the populations; and the second, the possession of vast sums of money by uneducated and unprincipled people, in all places where the precious metals may be obtained at the cost of the labor necessary to exhume them from the strata in which they lie concealed.

In an agricultural country, the life of the pioneer settler is always one of hard labor, of considerable privation, and of more or less isolation, while the people who seek to clear a farm in the wild forest, or who break up the virgin soil of the prairies are usually of the steady and hard-working classes, needing little assistance from courts of justice to enable them to maintain rights which are seldom invaded; and whose differences, in the early days of the country, are, for the most part, so slight as to be scarcely worth the cost of a litigation more complicated than a friendly and, usually, gratuitous, arbitration—submitted to the judgment of the most respected among the citizens.

In marked contrast to the peaceful life of the tiller of the soil, and to the placid monotony of his pursuits are the turbulent activity, the constant excitement and the perpetual temptations to which the dweller in a mining camp is subject, both during his sojourn in the gulches, or, if he be given to prospecting, in his frequent and unpremeditated change of location, commonly called a “stampede.” There can scarcely be conceived a greater or more apparent difference than exists between the staid and sedate inhabitants of rural districts, and the motley group of miners, professional men and merchants, thickly interspersed with sharpers, refugees, and a full selection from the dangerous classes that swagger, armed to the teeth, through the diggings and infest the roads leading to the newly discovered gulches, where lies the object of their worship—Gold.

Fortunately the change to a better state of things is rapid, and none who now walk the streets of Virginia would believe that, within two years of this date, the great question to be decided was, which was the stronger, right or might?

And here it must be stated, that the remarks which truth compels us to make, concerning the classes of individuals which furnish the law defying element of mining camps, are in no wise applicable to the majority of the people, who, while exhibiting the characteristic energy of the American race in the pursuit of wealth, yet maintain, under every disadvantage, an essential morality, which is the more creditable since it must be sincere, in order to withstand the temptations to which it is constantly exposed. “Oh, cursed thirst of gold,” said the ancient, and no man has even an inkling of the truth and force of the sentiment, till he has lived where gold and silver are as much the objects of desire, and of daily and laborious exertion, as glory and promotion are to the young soldier. Were it not for the preponderance of this conservative body of citizens, every camp in remote and recently discovered mineral regions would be a field of blood; and where this is not so, the fact is proof irresistible that the good is in sufficient force to control the evil, and eventually to bring order out of chaos.

Let the reader suppose that the police of New York were withdrawn for twelve months, and then let them picture the wild saturnalia which would take the place of the order that reigns there now. If, then, it is so hard to restrain the dangerous classes of old and settled communities, what must be the difficulty of the task, when, tenfold in number, fearless in character, generally well armed, and supplied with money to an extent unknown among their equals in the east, such men find themselves removed from the restraints of civilized society, and beyond the control of the authority which there enforces obedience to the law.

Were it not for the sterling stuff of which the mass of miners is made, their love of fair play, and their prompt and decisive action in emergencies, this history could never have been written, for desperadoes of every nation would have made this country a scene of bloodshed and a sink of iniquity such as was never before witnessed.

Together with so much that is evil, no where is there so much that is sternly opposed to dishonesty and violence as in the mountains; and though careless of externals and style, to a degree elsewhere unknown, the intrinsic value of manly uprightness is no where so clearly exhibited and so well appreciated as in the Eldorado of the west. Middling people do not live in these regions. A man or a woman becomes better or worse by a trip towards the Pacific. The keen eye of the experienced miner detects the imposter at a glance, and compels his entire isolation, or his association with the class to which he rightfully belongs.

Thousands of weak-minded people return, after a stay in the mountains, varying in duration from a single day to a year, leaving the field where only the strong of heart are fit to battle with difficulty, and to win the golden crown which is the reward of persevering toil and unbending firmness. There is no man more fit to serve his country in any capacity requiring courage, integrity, and self-reliance, than an “honest miner,” who has been tried and found true by a jury of mountaineers.

The universal license that is, at first, a necessity of position in such places, adds greatly to the number of crimes, and to the facilities for their perpetration. Saloons, where poisonous liquors are vended to all comers, and consumed in quantities sufficient to drive excitable men to madness and to the commission of homicide, on the slightest provocation, are to be found in amazing numbers, and the villainous compounds there sold, under the generic name of whiskey, are more familiarly distinguished by the cognomens of “Tangle-leg,” “Forty-rod,” “Lightning,” “Tarantula-juice,” etc., terms only too truly describing their acknowledged qualities.

The absence of good female society, in any due proportion to the numbers of the opposite sex, is likewise an evil of great magnitude; for men become rough, stern and cruel, to a surprising degree, under such a state of things.

In every frequent street, public gambling houses with open doors and loud music, are resorted to, in broad daylight, by hundreds—it might almost be said—of all tribes and tongues, furnishing another fruitful source of “difficulties,” which are commonly decided on the spot, by an appeal to brute force, the stab of a knife, or the discharge of a revolver. Women of easy virtue are to be seen promenading through the camp, habited in the gayest and most costly apparel, and receiving fabulous sums for their purchased favors. In fact, all the temptations to vice are present in full display, with money in abundance to secure the gratification of the desire for novelty and excitement, which is the ruling passion of the mountaineer.

One “institution,” offering a shadowy and dangerous substitute for more legitimate female association, deserves a more peculiar notice. This is the “Hurdy-Gurdy” house. As soon as the men have left off work, these places are opened, and dancing commences. Let the reader picture to himself a large room, furnished with a bar at one end—where champagne at $12 (in gold) per bottle, and “drinks” at twenty-five to fifty cents, are wholesaled, (correctly speaking)—and divided, at the end of this bar, by a railing running from side to side. The outer enclosure is densely crowded (and, on particular occasions, the inner one also) with men in every variety of garb that can be seen on the continent. Beyond the barrier, sit the dancing women, called “hurdy-gurdies,” sometimes dressed in uniform, but, more generally, habited according to the dictates of individual caprice, in the finest clothes that money can buy, and which are fashioned in the most attractive styles that fancy can suggest. On one side is a raised orchestra. The music suddenly strikes up, and the summons, “Take your partners for the next dance,” is promptly answered by some of the male spectators, who paying a dollar in gold for a ticket, approach the ladies’ bench, and—in style polite, or otherwise, according to antecedents—invite one of the ladies to dance.

The number being complete, the parties take their places, as in any other dancing establishment, and pause for the performance of the introductory notes of the air.

Let us describe a first class dancer—“sure of a partner every time”—and her companion. There she stands at the head of the set. She is of middle height, of rather full and rounded form; her complexion as pure as alabaster, a pair of dangerous looking hazel eyes, a slightly Roman nose, and a small and prettily formed mouth. Her auburn hair is neatly banded and gathered in a tasteful, ornamented net, with a roll and gold tassels at the side. How sedate she looks during the first figure, never smiling till the termination of “promenade, eight,” when she shows her little white hands in fixing her handsome brooch in its place, and settling her glistening ear-rings. See how nicely her scarlet dress, with its broad black band round the skirt, and its black edging, sets off her dainty figure. No wonder that a wild mountaineer would be willing to pay—not one dollar, but all that he has in his purse, for a dance and an approving smile from so beautiful a woman.

Her cavalier stands six feet in his boots, which come to the knee, and are garnished with a pair of Spanish spurs, with rowels and bells like young water wheels. His buckskin leggings are fringed at the seams, and gathered at the waist with a U. S. belt, from which hangs his loaded revolver and his sheath knife. His neck is bare, muscular and embrowned by exposure, as is also his bearded face, whose sombre hue is relieved by a pair of piercing dark eyes. His long, black hair hangs down beneath his wide felt hat, and, in the corner of his mouth, is a cigar, which rolls like the lever of an eccentric, as he chews the end in his mouth. After an amazingly grave salute, “all hands round” is shouted by the prompter, and off bounds the buckskin hero, rising and falling to the rhythm of the dance, with a clumsy agility and a growing enthusiasm, testifying his huge delight. His fair partner, with practiced foot and easy grace, keeps time to the music like a clock, and rounds to her place as smoothly and gracefully as a swan. As the dance progresses, he of the buckskins gets excited, and nothing but long practice prevents his partner from being swept off her feet, at the conclusion of the miner’s delight, “set your partners,” or “gents to the right.” An Irish tune or a hornpipe generally finishes the set, and then the thunder of heel and toe, and some amazing demivoltes are brought to an end by the aforesaid, “gents to the right,” and “promenade to the bar,” which last closes the dance. After a treat, the bar-keeper mechanically raps his blower as a hint to “weigh out,” the ladies sit down, and with scarcely an interval, a waltz, polka, shottische, mazurka, varsovienne, or another quadrille commences.

All varieties of costume, physique and demeanor can be noticed among the dancers—from the gayest colors and “loudest” styles of dress and manner, to the snugly fitted black silk, and plain, white collar, which sets off the neat figure of the blue-eyed, modest looking Anglo-Saxon. Yonder, beside the tall and tastily clad German brunette, you see the short curls, rounded tournure and smiling face of an Irish girl; indeed, representatives of almost every dancing nation of white folks, may be seen on the floor of the Hurdy-Gurdy house. The earnings of the dancers are very different in amount. That dancer in the low necked dress, with the scarlet “waist,” a great favorite and a really good dancer, counted fifty tickets into her lap before “The last dance, gentlemen,” followed by, “Only this one before the girls go home,” which wound up the performance. Twenty-six dollars is a great deal of money to earn in such a fashion; but fifty sets of quadrilles and four waltzes, two of them for the love of the thing, is very hard work.

As a rule, however, the professional “hurdies” are Teutons, and, though first rate dancers, they are, with some few exceptions, the reverse of good looking.

The dance which is most attended, is one in which ladies to whom pleasure is dearer than fame, represent the female element, and, as may be supposed, the evil only COMMENCES at the Dance House. It is not uncommon to see one of these syrens with an “outfit” worth from seven to eight hundred dollars, and many of them invest with merchants and bankers thousands of dollars in gold, the rewards and presents they receive, especially the more highly favored ones, being more in a week, than a well educated girl would earn in two years in an Eastern city.

In the Dance House you can see Judges, the Legislative corps, and every one but the Minister. He never ventures further than to engage in conversation with a friend at the door, and while intently watching the performance, lectures on the evil of such places with considerable force; but his attention is evidently more fixed upon the dancers than on his lecture. Sometimes may be seen gray haired men dancing, their wives sitting at home in blissful ignorance of the proceeding. There never was a dance house running, for any length of time, in the first days of a mining town, in which “shooting scrapes” do not occur; equal proportions of jealousy, whiskey and revenge being the stimulants thereto. Billiard saloons are everywhere visible, with a bar attached, and hundreds of thousands of dollars are spent there. As might be anticipated, it is impossible to prevent quarrels in these places, at all times, and, in the mountains, whatever weapon is handiest—foot, fist, knife, revolver, or derringer—it is instantly used. The authentic, and, indeed, LITERALLY exact accounts which follow in the course of this narrative will show that the remarks we have made on the state of society in a new mining country, before a controlling power asserts its sway, are in no degree exaggerated, but fall short of the reality, as all description must.

One marked feature of social intercourse, and (after indulgence in strong drink) the most fruitful source of quarrel and bloodshed is the all pervading custom of using strong language on every occasion. Men will say more than they mean, and the unwritten code of the miners, based on a wrong view of what constitutes manhood, teaches them to resent by force which should be answered by silent contempt.

Another powerful incentive to wrong doing is the absolute nullity of the civil law in such cases. No matter what may be the proof, if the criminal is well liked in the community, “Not Guilty” is almost certain to be the verdict of the jury, despite the efforts of the Judge and prosecutor. If the offender is a monied man, as well as a popular citizen, the trial is only a farce—grave and prolonged, it is true but capable of only one termination—a verdict of acquittal. In after days, when police magistrates in cities can deal with crime, they do so promptly. Costs are absolutely frightful, and fines tremendous. An assault provoked by drunkenness, frequently costs a man as much as thrashing forty different policemen would do, in New York. A trifling “tight” is worth from $20 to $50 in dust, all expenses told, and so on. One grand jury that we wot of, presented that it would be better to leave the punishment of offenders to the Vigilantes, who always acted impartially, and who would not permit the escape of proved criminals on technical and absurd grounds—than to have justice defeated, as in a certain case named. The date of that document is not ancient, and though, of course, refused and destroyed, it was the deliberate opinion, on oath, of the Grand Inquest, embodying the sentiment of thousands of good citizens in the community.

Finally, swift and terrible retribution is the only preventive of crime, while society is organizing in the far West. The long delay of justice, the wearisome proceedings, the remembrance of old friendships, etc., create a sympathy for the offender, so strong as to cause a hatred of the avenging law, instead of inspiring a horror of the crime. There is something in the excitement of continued stampedes that makes men of quick temperaments uncontrollably impulsive. In the moment of passion, they would slay all round them; but let the blood cool, and they would share their last dollar with the men whose life they sought, a day or two before.

Habits of thought rule communities more than laws, and the settled opinion of a numerous class is, that calling a man a liar, a thief, or a son of a b——h is provocation sufficient to justify instant slaying. Juries do not ordinarily bother themselves about the lengthy instruction they hear read by the court. They simply consider whether the deed is a crime against the Mountain Code; and if not, “not guilty” is the verdict, at once returned. Thieving, or any action which a miner calls MEAN, will surely be visited with condign punishment, at the hands of a Territorial jury. In such cases mercy there is none; but, in affairs of single combats, assaults, shootings, stabbings, and highway robberies, the civil law, with its positively awful expense and delay, is worse than useless.

One other main point requires to be noticed. Any person of experience will remember that the universal story of criminals, who have expiated their crimes on the scaffold, or who are pining away in the hardships of involuntary servitude—tells of habitual Sabbath breaking. This sin is so general in newly discovered diggings in the mountains, that a remonstrance usually produced no more fruit than a few jocular oaths and a laugh. Religion is said to be “played out,” and a professing Christian must keep straight, indeed, or he will be suspected of being a hypocritical member of a tribe, to whom it would be very disagreeable to talk about hemp.

Under these circumstances, it becomes an absolute necessity that good, law-loving, and order-sustaining men should unite for mutual protection, and for the salvation of the community. Being united, they must act in harmony; repress disorder; punish crime, and prevent outrage, or their organization would be a failure from the start, and society would collapse in the throes of anarchy. None but extreme penalties inflicted with promptitude, are of any avail to quell the spirit of the desperadoes with whom they have to contend; considerable numbers are required to cope successfully with the gangs of murderers, desperadoes and robbers, who infest mining countries, and who, though faithful to no other bond, yet all league willingly against the law. Secret they must be, in council and membership, or they will remain nearly useless for the detection of crime, in a country where equal facilities for the transmission of intelligence are at the command of the criminal and the judiciary; and an organization on this footing is a Vigilance Committee.

Such was the state of affairs, when five men in Virginia, and four in Bannack, initiated the movement which resulted in the formation of a tribunal, supported by an omnipresent executive, comprising within itself nearly every good man in the Territory, and pledged to render impartial justice to friend and foe, without regard to clime, creed, race or politics. In a few short weeks it was known that the voice of justice had spoken, in tones that might not be disregarded. The face of society was changed, as if by magic; for the Vigilantes, holding in one hand the invisible, yet effectual shield of protection, and in the other, the swift descending and inevitable sword of retribution, struck from his nerveless grasp the weapon of the assassin; commanded the brawler to cease from strife; warned the thief to steal no more; bade the good citizen take courage, and compelled the ruffians and marauders who had so long maintained the “reign of terror” in Montana, to fly the Territory, or meet the just rewards of their crimes. Need we say that they were at once obeyed? yet not before more than one hundred valuable lives had been pitilessly sacrificed and twenty-four miscreants had met a dog’s doom as the reward of their crimes.

To this hour, the whispered words, “Virginia Vigilantes,” would blanch the cheek of the wildest and most redoubtable desperado, and necessitate an instant election between flight and certain doom.

The administration of the lex talionis by self-constituted authority is, undoubtedly, in civilized and settled communities, an outrage on mankind. It is there, wholly unnecessary; but the sight of a few of the mangled corpses of beloved friends and valued citizens; the whistle of the desperado’s bullet, and the plunder of the fruits of the patient toil of years spent in weary exile from home, in places where civil law is as powerless as a palsied arm, from sheer lack of ability to enforce its decrees—alter the basis of the reasoning, and reverse the conclusion. In the case of the Vigilantes of Montana, it must be also remembered that the Sheriff himself was the leader of the Road Agents, and his deputies were the prominent members of the band.

The question of the propriety of establishing a Vigilance Committee, depends upon the answers which ought to be given to the following queries: Is it lawful for citizens to slay robbers or murderers, when they catch them; or ought they to wait for policemen, where there are none, or put them in penitentiaries not yet erected?

Gladly, indeed, we feel sure, would the Vigilantes cease from their labor, and joyfully would they hail the advent of power, civil or military, to take their place; but, till this is furnished by Government, society must be preserved from demoralization and anarchy; murder, arson and robbery must be prevented or punished, and road agents must die. Justice, and protection from wrong to person or property, are the birth-right of every American citizen, and these must be furnished in the best and most effectual manner that circumstances render possible. Furnished, however, they must be by constitutional law, undoubtedly, wherever practical and efficient provision can be made for its enforcement. But where justice is powerless as well as blind; the strong arm of the mountaineer must wield her sword; for “self preservation is the first law of nature.”

CHAPTER II.
THE SUNNY SIDE OF MOUNTAIN LIFE.

“The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with hooks of steel.”—Shaks.

In the preceding chapter, it was necessary to show to the reader the dark side of the cloud; but it has a golden lining, and though many a cursory observer, or disappointed speculator, may deny this fact, yet thousands have seen it, and know to their heart’s content that it is there. Yes! Life in the mountains has many charms. The one great blessing is perfect freedom. Untrammelled by the artificial restraints of more highly organized society, character developes itself so fully and so truly, that a man who has a friend, knows it, and there is a warmth and depth in the attachment which unites the dwellers in the wilderness, that is worth years of the insipid and uncertain regard of so-called, polite circles, which, too often, passes by the name of friendship, and, sometimes, insolently apes the attributes, and dishonors the fame of love itself. Those who have slept at the same watch-fire, and traversed together many a weary league, sharing hardship and privations, are drawn together by ties which civilization wots not of. Wounded or sick, far from home, and depending for life itself, upon the ministration and tender care of some fellow traveller, the memory of these deeds of mercy and kindly fellowship often mutually rendered, is as an oasis in the desert, or as a crystal stream to the fainting pilgrim.

As soon as towns are built, society commences to organize, and there is something truly cheering in the ready hospitality, the unfeigned welcome, and the friendly toleration of personal peculiarities which mark the intercourse of the dwellers in the land of gold. Every one does what pleases him best. Forms and ceremonies are at a discount, and generosity has its home in the pure air of the Rocky Mountains. This virtue, indeed, is as inseparable from mountaineers of all classes, as the pick and shovel from the prospector. When a case of real destitution, is made public, if any well known citizens will but take a paper in his hand and go round with it, the amount collected would astonish a dweller in Eastern cities, and it is a fact that gamblers and saloon keepers are the very men who subscribe the most liberally. Mountaineers think little of a few hundreds of dollars, when the feelings are engaged, and the number of instances in which men have been helped to fortunes and presented with valuable property by their friends, is truly astonishing.

The Mountains also may be said to circumscribe and bound the paradise of amiable and energetic women. For their labor they are paid magnificently, and they are treated with a deference and liberality unknown in other climes. There seems to be a law, unwritten but scarcely ever transgressed, which assigns to a virtuous and amiable woman, a power for good which she can never hope to attain elsewhere. In his wildest excitement, a mountaineer respects a woman, and anything like an insult offered to a lady, would be instantly resented, probably with fatal effect, by any bystander. Dancing is the great amusement with persons of both sexes, and we might say, of all ages. The comparative disproportion between the male and female elements of society, ensures the possessor of personal charms of the most ordinary kind, if she be good natured, the greatest attention, and the most liberal provision for her wants, whether real or fancied.

If two men are friends, an insult to one is resented by both, an alliance offensive and defensive being a necessary condition of friendship in the mountains. A popular citizen is safe everywhere, and any man may be popular that has anything useful or genial about him.

“Putting on style,” or the assumption of aristocratic airs, is the detestation of everybody. No one but a person lacking sense attempts it. It is neither forgotten nor forgiven, and KILLS a man like a bullet. It should also be remembered that no people more admire and respect upright moral conduct, than do the sojourners in mining camps, while at the same time none more thoroughly despise hypocrisy in any shape. In fact, good men and good women may be as moral and as religious as they choose to be, in the mining countries, and as happy as human beings can be. Much they will miss that they have been used to, and much they will receive that none offered them before.

Money is commonly plentiful; if prices are high, remuneration for work is liberal, and, in the end, care and industry will achieve success and procure competence. We have travelled far and seen much of the world, and the result of our experience is a love for our mountain home, that time and change of scene can never efface.

CHAPTER III.
SETTLEMENT OF MONTANA.

“I hear the tread of pioneers,
Of nations yet to be;
The first low wash of waves, where soon
Shall roll a human sea.”—Whittier.

Early in the Spring of 1862, the rumor of new and rich discoveries on Salmon River, flew through Salt Lake City, Colorado, and other places in the Territories. A great stampede was the consequence. Faith and hope were in the ascendant among the motley crew that wended their toilsome way by Fort Hall and Snake river, to the new Eldorado. As the trains approached the goal of their desires, they were informed that they could not get through with wagons, and shortly after came the discouraging tidings that the new mines were overrun by a crowd of gold-hunters from California, Oregon, and other western countries; they were also told, that finding it impossible to obtain either claims or labor, large bands of prospectors were already spreading over the adjacent territory; and finally, that some new diggings had been discovered at Deer Lodge.

The stream of emigration diverged from the halting place, where this last welcome intelligence reached them. Some, turning towards Deer Lodge, crossed the mountains, between Fort Lemhi and Horse Prairie Creek, and, taking a cut-off to the left, endeavored to strike the old trail from Salt Lake to Bitter Root and Deer Lodge Valleys. These energetic miners crossed the Grasshopper Creek, below the Canon, and finding good prospects there, some of the party remained, with a view of practically testing their value. Others went on to Deer Lodge; but finding that the diggings were neither so rich nor so extensive as they had supposed, they returned to Grasshopper Creek—afterwards known as the Beaver Head Diggings—so named from the Beaver Head River, into which the creek empties. The river derives its appellation from a rock, which exactly resembles, in its outline, the head of a Beaver.

From this camp—the rendezvous of the emigration—started, from time to time, the bands of explorers who first discovered and worked the gulches east of the Rocky Mountains, in the world renowned country now the Territory of Montana. Other emigrants, coming by Deer Lodge, struck the Beaver Head diggings; then the first party from Minnesota arrived; after them, came a large part of the Fisk company who had travelled under Government escort, from the same State, and a considerable number drove through from Salt Lake City and Bitter Root, in the early part of the winter, which was very open.

Among the later arrivals were some desperadoes and outlaws, from the mines west of the mountains. In this gang were Henry Plummer, afterwards the SHERIFF, Charley Reeves, Moore and Skinner. These worthies had no sooner got the “lay of the country,” than they commenced operations. Here it may be remarked, that if the professed servants of God would only work for their master with the same energy and persistent devotion, as the servants of the Devil use for their employer, there would be no need of a Heaven above, for the earth itself would be a Paradise.

CHAPTER IV.
THE ROAD AGENTS.

“Thieves for their robbery have authority
When judges steal themselves.”—Shakespeare

It may easily be imagined that life in Bannack, in the early days of the settlement, was anything but pleasant. The ruffians, whose advent we have noticed, served as a nucleus, around which the disloyal, the desperate, and the dishonest gathered, and quickly organizing themselves into a band, with captain, lieutenants, secretary, road agents, and outsiders, became the terror of the country. The stampede to the Alder Gulch, which occurred early in June, 1863, and the discovery of the rich placer diggings there, attracted many more of the dangerous classes, who, scenting the prey from afar, flew like vultures to the battle field.

Between Bannack and Virginia, a correspondence was constantly kept up, and the roads throughout the Territory were under the surveillance of the “outsiders” before mentioned. To such a system were these things brought, that horses, men and coaches were marked in some understood manner, to designate them as fit objects for plunder, and thus the liers in wait had an opportunity of communicating the intelligence to the members of the gang, in time to prevent the escape of the victims.

The usual arms of a road agent were a pair of revolvers, a double-barrelled shot-gun, of large bore, with the barrels cut down short, and to this they invariably added a knife or dagger. Thus armed and mounted on fleet, well trained horses, and being disguised with blankets and masks, the robbers awaited their prey in ambush. When near enough, they sprang out on a keen run, with levelled shot-guns, and usually gave the word, “Halt! Throw up your hands you sons of b——s!” If this latter command were not instantly obeyed, there was the last of the offender; but, in case he complied, as was usual, one or two sat on their horses, covering the party with their guns, which were loaded with buck-shot, and one, dismounting, disarmed the victims, and made them throw their purses on the grass. This being done, and a search for concealed property being effected, away rode the robbers, reported the capture and divided the spoils.

The confession of two of their number one of whom, named Erastus Yager alias Red, was hung in the Stinkingwater Valley, put the Committee in possession of the names of the prominent men in the gang, and eventually secured their death or voluntary banishment. The most noted of the road agents, with a few exceptions were hanged by the Vigilance Committee, or banished. A list of the place and date of execution of the principle members of the band is here presented. The remainder of the red calendar of crime and retribution will appear after the account of the execution of Hunter: