Volume 17 , Issue 38

Butch Cassidy & His 500 Freefooters (1898)

It was Sunday, 3 April 1898, that The San Francisco Call, of San Francisco, California, reported on page 20, "Four States Against Butch Cassidy and His 500 Freebooters."

Found on Newspapers.com

Salt Lake, Utah, March 29, 1898 -- Butch Cassidy was a bad man. He was the worst man in four States. These States were Utah, Colorado, Idaho and Wyoming, and when the four Governors met in secret conclave on Monday it was for the purpose of deciding upon a plan of campaign against the most notorious outlaw the West had ever had to cope with. The achievements of Jesse James and his followers pale into tawdry insignificance before those of Butch Cassidy and his five hundred.

For several years, in fact, ever since the Live Stock Commission drove the Wyoming rustlers out of business in 1892, Butch had proven a thorn in the flesh of the authorities of the four States in which he carried on his operations. He had laughed the militia to scorn. Sheriffs and deputies he regarded with pity and contempt. He was a power unto himself.

After the ordinary methods of hunting outlaws had been tried unsuccessfully it was decided that drastic means must be employed. Rewards had been repeatedly offered for Butch Cassidy, dead or alive, and after each fresh outbreak these rewards had invariably been increased. If all the offers which had been made from time to time held good, the slyer of Butch should he ever live to claim his reward, would be entitled to upward of $20,000 in blood money back then.

But the rewards had proven as futile as had the efforts of the militia and the deputy sheriffs. And that was why V=Governor Wells of Utah, Governor Adams of Colorado, Governor Richards of Wyoming and Governor Steunenberg of Idaho got their heads together to see what could be done. Just what the result of their conference was had no been divulged.

The Governors believed in still hunt methods, and it was thought that a large number of experienced mountaineers and bandit hunters would be place in the field, each State to furnish its quota, and that the bandits would be rounded up in much the same fashion that cattle were. Any attempt to exterminate this desperate band was certain to be attended by bloodshed.

Back in 1898 Butch and his band were the out growth of the rustlers of six years ago (1892). Since then they had broadened their filed and increased their numbers. It was no idle boast to say that the leader of this notorious band had five hundred men at his beck and call.

Their depredations were upon a scale never before reached in the history of frontier crime. All the conditions were favorable to them. They knew every foot of the vast territory in which they operated, taking in, as it did, the wildest and most inaccessible portions of four States. Every man of them was thoroughly familiar with frontier life in its rougher phases.

The forces were subdivided into five bands, each controlled by its own leader, with Cassidy as the supreme power. The outlaws then practically controlled the sparsely settled region extending from Central Wyoming southwesterly through Northwestern Colorado and Utah, and almost tot he Arizona line. Marauding and murderous bands conducted their raids without restraint. The thefts of livestock ran into the millions. Ranchmen were murdered and driven out of business, and the officers of the law were powerless.

These were five camps where the various bands made their headquarters, each of which was well nigh inaccessible except tot he bandits themselves. Two of the most famous were "Robbers' Roost" and "Hole in the Wall." The former was in South Central Utah on the San Rafaele River. The latter was hidden away somewhere in that wild, mountainous district to the northwest of Casper, Wyoming.

The other camps were located in Teton Basin, near the eastern border of Idaho and south of the Snake River; Powder Springs in Southwestern Wyoming, near Colorado, and about fifty miles east of the Utah line; and Browns Park, taking in the northwestern corner of Colorado and the northeastern portion of Utah. It was not definitely known in just which State the Browns Park camp lie, but it was thought to be across the line in Colorado.

Never before in the record of border outlawry had Western States been forced to form an offensive and defensive alliance against bandits such as was entered into that week first week of April 1898, at Salt Lake by the Governors of these four sTates. The situation had become desperate and a desperate remedy was required.

The five camps formed a chain extending for hundreds of miles between these posts communication was maintained by a regular system of couriers and cipher dispatches, facilitating the co-operation of two or more bands when an enterprise of more than usual magnitude was undertaken. These reckless bands were composed of men of the most reckless and desperate character, long accustomed to deeds of crime. Whenever a murder was committed in the mountain States or a convict escaped form a penitentiary the criminal flees to the nearest of these retreats, where he was safe from pursuit. In this manner the ranks of the bandits had been recruited up to a strength conservatively estimated at five hundred. While each band had its chosen leader, Butch Cassidy exercised some sort of authority over the federation.

Each of the strongholds were both a rendezvous and a fortress absolutely impregnable. They could only be reached by traversing deep and narrow gorges, scaling lofty and rugged peaks and penetrating the wildest recesses of the Rocky Mountains. In many places the only trial laid over a narrow shelf or a precipice. Holes had been drilled, into which in case of close pursuit dynamite could be placed and the trail blown from the face of the cliff into the chasm below, thus baffling all pursuers.

There were also many places where one robber could hold fifty officers at bay, and as the bandits were armed to the teeth and would fight to the last man, any effort to exterminate them by the ordinary processes of law was regarded as a useless sacrifice of life. In their retreats were numerous caves, luxuriously fitted up and containing subsistence sufficient for months. Thus were the bandits enabled to set at defiance all the forces of law and order.

The outlaws roamed the adjacent country and smaller settlements without molestation. Many settlers purchased immunity by extending assistance in various ways, and the robbers even attended country dances and other functions, occasionally shooting up the town or indulging in other forms of recreation. It was only when closely pursued by officers of the law that they retired to their mountain retreats.

Butch Cassidy, by reason of the price upon his head, considered the higher altitude more conducive to his health and seldom ventured into the towns, unless he was making a raid or was surrounded by a band of his trusty men, in which case he never feared molestation. As a killer he had earned a reputation during the last ten years probably equaled in the West only by that of "Wild Bill" Hickok, peace to his ashes.

Few men who knew him would care to rouse his ire, for a although a manor wonderful nerve, unlike most of his class, he was possessed of a fearful temper. Sometimes it gets beyond his control, and then he throws all caution to the wind and becomes utterly reckless.

About four years ago he was shot at from ambush near Green River by a cowboy known as "Hackey" Hughes, whose only object was to secure the reward offered by the State authorities of Utah. The bullet pierced the lobe of his ear, and the blood streaming down his face acted upon Cassidy as a red flag might to a maddened bull.

With a howl of rage he turned his horse just as another bullet passed through the rim of his sombrero. A puff of smoke from a clump of bushes showed where the assassin was concealed. For picturesque profanity Butch Cassidy hadn't his equal in the States, and on that occasion he was said to have fairly surpassed himself. Ripping out a string of oaths that would reach from Dan to Beersheba he jumped from his horse and dodged behind a boulder.

He waited for twenty minutes, and then the cowboy shot the outlaw's horse, which had been grazing in the open. That was more than Butch could stand. Throwing caution to the winds he ran toward the clump of bushes, with a pistol in each hand barking at every step.

Hackney Hughes considered discretion the better part of valor, and jumped on his horse and succeeded in making good his escape. But the vindictive nature of Butch Cassidy asserted itself. He had recognized his assailant, and every member of the band received instructions to be on the watch for him. Hughes left the Green River country, and it was not until six months later that he was located, on the North fork of the Powder River, up in Wyoming.

Cassidy was notified, and with a dozen picked men he reached the ranch where Hughes was working. It was during the spring roundup. The two men meet face to face. Hughes knew what was coming and pulled his gun. But he wasn't quick enough. Cassidy's pistol cracked first,a nd the cowboy dropped from his saddle with a bullet through his right eye.

"That's the way I serve any ____ skunk that tries to shoot me in the back," remarked Cassidy. "If any of his friends want to take up the quarrel I'm ready."

But if the dead cowboy had any friends they failed to respond. Butch Cassidy was well known, and it wasn't safe to pick quarrels with him. So he rode away with his escort, cursing the cowboys for a pack of cowardly coyotes.

Cattle stealing was the chief source of income to Cassidy and his followers. One company alone in Central Utah had lost 2000 head during the past two years, worth at present prices $80.000. These were driven through Colorado and into New Mexico. It was in driving these stolen cattle from one State to another and out of the country that their system of co-operation was beneficial.

Any operation that promised adventure and financial reward was never overlooked, however. Trains were held up, express companies and banks were robbed, and even individuals, when known to have money in their possession, were relieved of their possessions in true road-agent style.

There were women among these outlaws, too, who rode with them on their wild forays and took pride in their association with these bold and daring freebooters. Even "Calamity Jane," in the old days of her association with Deadwood Dick," could not surpass these picturesque females in their wild career.

In 1997, Butch Cassidy and Bill Ferguson, one of his trusted lieutenants, dashed into the town of Price in broad daylight, held up the paymaster of the coal company and rode off with $8000 before the crowd of bystanders realized what had happened. This was but a sample exploit.

Bank robberies were but side issues with them' merely incidental to their grand chief occupation of cattle stealing. If a victim resists or an officer pursues murder was regarded as a professional duty, to be cheerfully performed, but they were not given to wanton slaughter. In several instances foolhardy officers who had invaded their strongholds had been disarmed, dismounted and sent home. An instance of this kind occurred just after the raid on the coal company at Price. Two deputies traced Cassidy and Ferguson to the lair at "Robbers' Roost." They were fully twenty-four hours behind, and their approach was known long before they arrived at the narrow trail leading up into the rendezvous. Cassidy was in a jovial mood, and he conceived that it would be more fun to capture the deputies and make sport of them than to kill them. So he acted accordingly. The deputies were about half way up the trail when, just at a bend around a sharp point of rocks, they heard the sharp command "Hands up!"

Half a dozen guns were staring them in the face not twenty paces away. The deputies realized that not to obey meant sudden death. Up went their hands. Cassidy stepped up to them, roaring with laughter.

"You're a couple of fine dubs to come and catch peaceable citizens, ain't you?" he cried. "Gimme your guns. Here, Buck." calling to one of his men. "search these tenderfoot, and if they've got any tobacco you can keep it."

The outcome of it was that the deputies, relieved of everything but their clothing, were bound hand and foot to their horses, conducted to the foot of the pass and sent about their business. To add to their discomfit a rudely scrawled note was pinned on the breast of each, which read: "WE are deputy sheriffs, sent out to capture Butch Cassidy and His gang. When found send us home."
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