My novel, “Calamity Jane- How the West Began”, is fiction, told from the viewpoint of a teenager who wasn’t actually there at the time. That aside, I take the history behind the story very seriously. In the twenty or so years since I bought Langford’s “Vigilante Days and Ways” at a Hollywood used bookstore, I have read and reread every single published contemporary account of the events. All of these accounts portray Plummer was the leader of a gang that practiced mayhem and murder in Montana in the early 1860’s.
Now however, doubt seems to have crept in. John Ellingsen, in his otherwise fine book about Virginia City and Nevada City, Montana, “Witness to History”, published in 2011, shows today’s view of this episode, hemming and hawing as he tells the story (p. 24):
“It has long been assumed (though it is now disputed) that Sheriff Henry Plummer was in effect the leader of the gang.”
Why the turnabout in opinion? I think this is because things were so different back then that it is hard for us to grasp, and easy to be skeptical. Adding to that is the book which probably turned opinion; Mather and Boswell’s “Hanging the Sheriff”, published in 1987, which as its thesis questions Plummer’s guilt. More recently, “A Decent Orderly Lynching” by Frederick Allen (2004) also is at least agnostic on the question of Plummer’s guilt. I will present in this essay the evidence of the Sheriff’s guilt from the accounts of his contemporaries, and an analysis of those more recent books.
How did Plummer’s contemporaries come to the conclusion that he was the leader of a gang of murderous outlaws? Let us examine the three main lines of evidence, which I will call Tilden, Glick, and Yager for the individuals involved. Be aware that none of the three wrote their own memoirs; (in one case for obvious reasons: he was hung); we hear their words from others.
Langford, in “Vigilante Days and Ways” (pp. 275-277), relates the story told by Henry Tilden, a boy of fifteen or sixteen, who was approached by “unexpected horseman” while on an errand distant from town:
“He gathered courage as he rode, and proceeded along the highway until he came up with the horsemen, who produced their revolvers and told him to throw up his hands and dismount, a request with which he quickly complied, notwithstanding the impolite manner in which it was conveyed. They ‘went through’ his pockets, he meanwhile maintaining a very awkward position with his hands in the air above his head. Finding nothing, they told him to mount his horse and proceed on his way, telling him further that if he ever dared to open his mouth about the circumstance, he would be murdered, or in their expressive language, they would ‘blow the top of his head off.’”
Upon returning home:
“He told the story of having met the robbers, and further stated that he knew the parties who had ‘held him up,’ particularly one of them, who had held a revolver at his head and who seemed to be a leader among them, and this man was Henry Plummer…
“Colonel Sanders {nephew of Tilden’s employer, and soon to be the prosecuting attorney at the trial of Ives} did not at first share Tilden’s belief concerning the personnel of the troop of robbers and his identification of Plummer, but nevertheless, as a precautionary measure, he admonished Tilden not to communicate his beliefs to any one, assuring him that if his conjectures were correct, and an expression of them should ever reach Plummer’s ears, it would go hard with him. Two or three days thereafter, Plummer approached Tilden, and gazing fixedly upon him, abruptly asked if he had any clew by which the robbers could be identified. Tilden, though greatly frightened by this inquiry, gave him an answer which allayed whatever suspicion the wary robber might have entertained. But Tilden himself, in relating the incident to friends, never wavered in his convictions.”
Tilden told his story to his employer, Chief Justice Edgerton, and others as soon as he returned to town, and then was again called to tell the story to the vigilantes just before Plummer was hung. Adding to the suspicion of Plummer around that moment was that Col. Sanders had that evening been unable to find Plummer along a route the Sherriff had told Sanders he would take.
Next in the time sequence of events, gang member Red Yager delivered a letter warning other gang members that vigilantes were after them for their involvement in the murder of Tiebalt, following the trial and execution of Ives for that same offense. Yager travelled “with such rapidity that he killed two horses,” (“The Vigilantes of Montana”, Dimsdale p.127) and along the trail he sequentially met several of the vigilantes who were posted as guards, and gave them conflicting stories. The guards all let him pass, but when the letter later came to the attention of the vigilantes they captured Yager. From the time he was captured, Yager was said to have asked no questions, and to have acted as if he coolly assumed that his fate was sealed. The differing stories he had given along the trail were compared by the vigilantes and was considered strong evidence of his guilt. Yager at first denied the charge of serving as messenger for the gang, but when asked why he had otherwise been in such a hurry that he killed two horses, his response was found unconvincing, and he was told that he was to hang. Dimsdale (pp.132-3), records that he responded thus:
“’It is pretty rough, but I merited this years ago. What I want to say is that I know all about the gang and there are men in it that deserve this more than I do; but I should die happy if I could see them hanged, or know that it would be done. I don’t say this to get off. I don’t want to get off.’”
Then, “Red began by informing them that Plummer was the chief of the band.”
He followed that by naming twenty-six other gang members.
So we have a report of a young man robbed by Plummer, and the word of a gang member of Plummer’s leadership of that gang. But the most damning evidence, to me, is the story of Dr. Glick, found in Langford (pp. 159-160):
“His services were in almost daily demand by the road agents, to dress wounds received in broils among themselves, or while engaged in the commission of robbery. It was impossible, from his frequent contact with them, and the circumstances with which ofttimes he found them surrounded, for him to avoid a knowledge of their guilty enterprises. But he neither dare to decline to serve them, not to divulge their villainy, well knowing that in either case, he would fall a victim to that summary vengeance, so promptly and fearlessly exercised in the case of Dillingham.” {Dillingham was a deputy murdered in a very public manner for having warned a man of intended robbery by the gang.} “He foresaw also, that a time must come when all the guilty misdeeds which he had been obliged to conceal, would be revealed, and that then the lovers of law and order would respect the integrity of his motives, and possibly class him among the men of whom he justly stood so much in fear. But there was no remedy. He knew that his actions were narrowly watched, and that a word or glance indicating his suspicions would cost him his life. It was a happy day for him when, by the death of Plummer, his lips were unsealed.
“The robbers, in other instances than the one recorded, were in the habit of using threats to control the doctor’s conduct. On one occasion in July, 1863, Plummer invited him to accompany him on a horseback excursion to his ranche on the Rattlesnake. Finding no one at the cabin on their arrival, Plummer asked the doctor to go with him down the creek and pick some berries. They soon came upon a large clump of birch bushes. Pulling them aside, Plummer disclosed an open space cut within the clump, in which were seated several men, seeing whom Glick drew back, but was told by Plummer to come in. He entered, and found himself amid five or six men with masked faces or blackened faces, of whom he recognized Moore and Billy Terwiliger. The latter was lying on a blanket, wounded in the leg by a bullet received in some affray.
“After dressing the wound, the doctor started with Plummer on the return to Bannack. While crossing the plateau between Rattlesnake and Bannack, Plummer suddenly wheeled in front of the doctor, and, cocking his pistol, thrust it into his face, saying,
“‘Now you know all. These are my men. I’m their chief. If you ever breathe a word of what you’ve seen, I’ll murder you.’
“Under this kind of surveillance, the doctor lived until the robber band was destroyed. His discretion, only equaled by his kindness of heart, saved both his life from destruction by the robbers, and his good name from the public odium of the people. Montana has had no worthier or more useful citizen.”
Langford gives another similar instance on page 175:
“While confined with his wound,” {that he had received in a gunfight with then-Sheriff Crawford} “Plummer repeatedly asked permission of Dr. Glick to take a ride on horseback. The necessity for quiet while the wound healed obliged the doctor to invariably to refuse him. One morning he called as usual to see how the cure was progressing, and Plummer was not at home. The Doctor supposed he had gone out into the town, and at a later hour called, and, on examination of the wound, was satisfied that he had been taking violent exercise. On questioning him, Plummer, who knew that the doctor dared not betray him, told him of the robbery of Davenport, which he had that day committed.”
So, those are the three main sources that implicate Plummer; Tilden, Yager and Glick. At the end of this essay I will mention other accounts that are consistent, but are less strong evidence. Now on to revisionist history. I do not use that term so disparagingly as you might think- the dust jacket for “Hanging the Sheriff” states that the authors “present a revisionist view of Plummer’s role.” I also want to point out that I respect the research Mather and Boswell present on Plummer’s career prior to arriving in Bannack- for that please see my essay, “Henry Plummer- A Most Enigmatic Individual.”
Tilden, Yager, and Glick. How do Mather and Boswell deal with them?
In the account cited from Langford, Tilden tells his employers that he recognized Plummer by his gun and the red lining of his coat. Francis Thompson, a contemporary of Tilden, in “A Tenderfoot in Montana” (p. 162-3), states that the way Plummer handled his gun due to a prior injury gave him away to the boy. Tilden himself never wrote his own account of this, so we are dependent on the accounts of others. Not surprisingly, some details of these accounts vary. One of these variances that Mather and Boswell point out in order to cast doubt, is that Sanders, in his account, states that Tilden “…was certain that if the identification of individual faces was a possible thing, he there saw and knew Henry Plummer,” whereas others reported that the men were masked. Mather and Boswell (p.104) see a discrepancy here because “the masks worn on other robberies were sacks that completely covered the head, holes being cut for eyes and nostrils,” so how could Tilden see a face? Edwin Purple, a writer contemporary to Tilden, in “Perilous Passage” (p.195), writes of a robbery by this gang, “Black neckerchiefs… were tied over their faces…” Conundrum resolved.
Mather and Boswell next try to cast doubt on whether this was a robbery at all (p. 104). They point out that one of the accounts of this episode says that the three men did not “advise him,” which was something robbers back then sometimes did if they released a victim unharmed- “advising” them to travel with more money the next time. Next, they say, “Since no actual robbery took place, the issue of disguises is important to establish some surreptitious intent.” This is two pages after they note that Dimsdale says $10 was stolen; which seems to me a small enough amount that others who told the tale might have left that out, especially since they never would have dreamed that at some point in the future that readers would doubt whether or not this was a robbery. The question the early writers were addressing was, “by whom?” At any rate, from these minor discrepancies, Mather and Boswell decide to posit that “the incident need not necessarily be interpreted as an attempted robbery, but could have been only a precautionary measure by the men to ascertain whether the approaching stranger was armed.” Really? A fifteen or sixteen year old whom Mather and Boswell themselves note was described as timid and consumptive, was so threatening in appearance to these unknown men (for they have no other theory as to whom they were) that they forced him to dismount, and held a gun held to his head with arms raised?
So much for Mather and Boswell’s treatment of Tilden. On to the next line of evidence- Yager (or as others spell the name, Yeager). Mather and Boswell cast doubt on his naming of Plummer as a member of the gang in three ways- whether Yager said it, if he said it whether he meant it, and whether there was any organized gang at all, headed by Plummer or not.
As to whether he said it: it is obvious that Yager’s testimony is only heard from his executioners, and at that, only in outline, second hand mostly from men who knew those who arrested him, with purported dialogue that doesn’t sound like anyone actually speaks. Conceding that, on to Mather and Boswell’s next issue with the evidence (p.110). “Yeager did not come up with a single concrete detail regarding the planning of any robbery.” Dimsdale does not, in fact, give such details in the section detailing Yager’s arrest. But, he explains (p. 133), right on the page that Mather and Boswell had to read to know if Yager said anything, “He gave the particulars of the robberies of the coaches and of many other crimes, naming the perpetrators. As these details have already been supplied or will appear in the course of this narrative, they are omitted in order to avoid useless repetition.” Yager did give details, we are told, they are just not outlined in the story of his capture and execution.
Mather and Boswell further delineate their skepticism (p. 133) by saying that if he had said these things, “Yager would have been paraded before the entire community like a trophy.” This argument is answered by Dimsdale on the same page again:
“The trial of George Ives had demonstrated most unquestionably that no amount of certified guilt was sufficient to enlist popular sympathy exclusively on the side of justice, or to render the just man other than a mark for vengeance. The majority of the men sympathize, in spite of the voice of reason, with the murderers instead of the victims; a course of conduct which appears to us inexplicable, though we know it to be common.”
To explain the above passage, after the jury verdict in Ives’ trial, his friends and sympathizers, in sizeable numbers, threatened violence to break him free. The vigilantes had decided when they first organized the day following that trial, that an extralegal process was necessary.
So if Mather and Boswell think that Yager didn’t finger Plummer, do they say where this idea may have come from? They do. In the greatest leap of intuition put forth thus far, they tell us (p 110), “In stronger language, the idea of a gang with Plummer at its head may have come originally from Sanders rather than Yeager.” If I understand their arguments, Mather and Boswell theorize that Sanders, who had been told that by Tilden that he had been held up by Plummer weeks previously, decided that he needed to remove Plummer, so he planted that idea with vigilantes, who then fabricated Yager’s confession. I would call that a flight of fancy, and not supported by any evidence.
Next, Mather and Boswell give a short explanation of how, if Yager did say that Plummer was the gang leader, that it was possible he knew it wasn’t true (p. 110):
“It would have been possible that the lawless element of the community counted on Sheriff Plummer’s sympathy in the event they should be caught. After all he was a man with a record himself, and circulating rumors of his supposed support of contemplated robberies would help to bolster timid accomplices enlisted to do the dirty work. In other words, it would have been possible for Yeager to repeat such a rumor, either because he believed it himself or because he thought it would save his life.”
I present the above argument in its entirety, without further comment, because I find the reasoning unfathomable.
Lastly, Mather and Boswell continue to sow seeds of doubt and confusion by examining the question of whether there is any evidence for there being an organized gang at all (p. 112):
“Dimsdale, Langford and Sanders {daughter of above mentioned} passed down the… legend, describing an elaborate network of spies stationed throughout the territory, who gathered and disseminated intelligence on every ounce of gold transported.”
That’s not how I read these authors, but at any rate, to the degree that it is what they say, they are not passing down dim legend from remote times. They intimately knew the key players in these events, and we can reasonably presume that they heard these stories from those individuals more than once. This is not the legend of Hercules.
Mather and Boswell then detail a few of the gang’s robberies in an effort to show that the criminals in this area at this time were the gang that couldn’t shoot straight. We are supposed to then conclude that they were unlikely organized. My guess is that they did not have a very robust quality improvement process.
That completes my responses regarding Tilden and Yager. How do Mather and Boswell treat the evidence presented regarding Dr. Glick and his forced treatment of the outlaws? Tangentially, it seems. In their discussion of the trial of Ives, Mather and Boswell state (p.78):
“A second witness Sanders might have used was not called upon, a Dr. Glick, whom Langford claims had knowledge that Ives belonged to an organized gang. Glick did testify for the defense later in the trials.”
They imply that Glick was on the side of the defense at the trial. He wasn’t; he testified as to the mental capacity of one of the accused. In the only other mention of Glick in Mather and Boswell’s book, he is portrayed as a grave robber for having exhumed Plummer’s body (p. 181). Actually, it is very clear from the record that Glick’s intent was a post-mortem analysis. Glick had performed surgery on Plummer’s arm after the latter was shot, and had been unable to find the bullet. Glick just wanted to see why he had been unable to find the bullet at the time of the injury, as would any good surgeon.
So, I don’t hold in high regard Mather and Boswell’s analysis of the evidence against Plummer. “A Decent Orderly Lynching” by Frederick Allen, is a better book, but I have some of the same issues with it, as follows.
Regarding the Tilden episode, Allen (p.224) seems to give some credence to Tilden’s account, but says that, “to this day it does not carry an especially convincing ring.” I find this author to be overly prone to doubting contemporary accounts. I will cite one other example to give a flavor of this; his description of an earlier trial in Bannack (p. 80):
“In his memoirs, published in 1890 and steeped in a fair bit of melodrama over the years, Langford described a frantic scene, with desperado friends of the defendants openly vowing to kill jurors and waving their guns around, firing rounds in the air, threatening serious mayhem and resembling, in his words, ‘some of the riotous gatherings in Paris in the days of the first revolution.’ In truth, while the crowd in Bannack was rowdy, Reeves and Moore, and Mitchell did not have many friends agitating on their behalf, and certainly no organized faction of gunmen.”
On what basis does Allen counter Langford’s first-hand account? There is none quoted. I do not find Langford’s description of a frontier trial in this time and place out of step at all with descriptions of the trial of Ives, for example, where his friends openly threatened to shoot the vigilantes, or the trial where Dillingham was murdered by Plummer’s men.
Regarding Yager’s list, and his naming of Plummer as chief, Allen again doubts the entire confession by calling it “purported.” He discusses some of the previously mentioned problems with the confession, particularly faulting the vigilantes for executing Yager rather than keeping him as a witness. “Witness” implies trial. Dimsdale’s response, cited above, is that there were going to be no more trials.
Allen also finds Dimsdale’s account of Yager’s confession to be sullied by the addition of information that the gang used a specific tie around the neck, goatee, and password of “I am innocent” to identify each other. He again finds that this does not “ring true,” as why would they need this? This then in his mind casts doubt on the entire account of the confession, including the list of names. Again, I do not find sufficient reason to dispute contemporary accounts. Seems to me the gang may have found these signals useful for identifying themselves to new members without specifically naming them, for example, or for easier identification in the dark, or even as a means for Plummer to put an imprint of his authority on the gang.
So, on to what I have said previously I find the most convincing evidence of Plummer’s guilt, the words of Dr. Glick, related by Langford, regarding Plummer’s actions. What does Allen have to say about this? Nothing. He does mention Glick as the physician who treated Plummer when he was shot in the arm, and in the context of the trial of Ives, but no mention of Glick being threatened by Plummer.
One last bit of evidence before closing this essay. Allen mentions it (p. 140) thus;
“Neil Howie, a miner who later served as the sheriff of Helena, claimed that Plummer approached him one day, commiserated over the rigors of mining for a living, and then added cryptically, ‘I can tell you an easier way.’ Howie refused to listen.”
Note again that Allen uses the adjective “claimed” when describing Howie’s account. Once again, he doubts contemporary accounts when no alternate account exists. Langford’s full account is as follows (p. 230):
“The following is one instance of Plummer’s method of obtaining recruits. He called upon Neil Howie in the fall of 1863, whom he found hard at work mining, but barely earning a subsistence.
“’Neil,” said he, ‘this is a hard way to get a living.’
“’I know it,’ replied Howie.
“’I can tell you an easier way.’
“’I’d like to know it.’
“’There are plenty of men making money in this country,’ said Plummer, ‘and you’ll have all you want.’
“’You’ve picked up the wrong man,” replied Howie.
“’All right,’ said Plummer coolly. ‘I suppose you know enough to keep your mouth shut.’
Howie remembered the fate of Dillingham, and heeded the admonition.”
(Dillingham had been murdered by Plummer’s deputies.)
Note that Allen does not mention that Plummer threatened Howie. He calls Plummer’s advice “cryptic.” Yes, it is cryptic, but it has much clearer meaning when quoted in its entirety. Neil Howie obviously didn’t find it so cryptic.
In closing; Tilden, Yager, and Glick, through their contemporaries, implicated Sheriff Plummer as the leader of a gang of robbers and murderers in the earliest days of Montana. More recent authors have cast doubt on Plummer’s guilt. I hope that I have shown readers that In order to do so, however, those authors have to discount or ignore all available evidence from the accounts of those present at the time of the events.
Bryan Ney
2-8-16
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