The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1876-05-11
The First Hanging Episode in the Black
Hills.


foot hills, about forty miles from Gus
ter. One of the party was a mountain
eer, the rest were members of large
well armed train of Black Killers, then
toiling and working its way through a
wilderness of sage brush, endeavoring
ITO reach the trail our party had discOv-
cred few hours before. We had Sc
lected spot for rest, where the wind
or the sun, or perhaps both, had cleared
away the snow from huge pine knot,
almost petrifed by age. The grass,
too, was quite lUXuriant, and offered an
inducement for us to halt and rest until
the train came up. The fire lighted
and the knot in blaze, we brought
forth our pipes to smoke and watch the
misty curtain rise. Twas glorious
scene on that crisp frosty morning, and
the man who died there that day should
have felt proud of his magnificent death
chamber. Nature seems to have law
ished unlimited wealth of beauty upon
the Black Hills, and fate seems to have
led Dick Burnett to the most beautiful
spot in the hills in which to die. While
we were calmly smoking around the
fire, watching the misty canopy rise
like feathery vail from the valley be-
meath us; while we silently admired
the magnificent background of glisten-
ing snow and bright green pines, which
in the morning sun appeared more
beautiful than ever before; while we
were thus quietly admiring the beauti-
full, blood-red, iron tinctured valley be-
low US, now plainly visible beneath the
slowly rising curtain of mist, admiring
the winding creek in its center, which,
with its broad fringe of orange cOlored
Kinnekennic willow, appeared like
huge yellow snake in basin of blood,
a man rode suddenly upon us.
Each sprang to his feet, rifle in hand.
The stranger turned his horse away in
alarm and rode quickly away. He was
a white man, and we could not and had
no reason to halt him. He rode out to
the side of the road and dismOunted.
Then he proceeded to arrange and write
upon some paper, which he placed in
his bosom, and after some hesitation
! led his horse towards our surprised
party and halted about thirty PAGES dis
tant, rifle and pistol in hand.
"Hallo there!"
"Hallo yOursef!"
els this the Custer rOad!'
"Don't know. I've been lost all
night. Who are yOu?"
"Pilgrims from Cheyenne. Been lost
on Jenney's trail two days"
Then the lonely stranger rOdeup and
stood restessly awaiting interrogation.
He said he had left Custer two days
before; that he was drunk when he left,
and did not know what he had done or
how he had got lost. He received
a lot of letters from our party, and soon
afterwards bade us adieu. He said
he was going to the States, and we
bade him look out for his scalp, and
said good bye. Poor fellow! unfOr-
tunate drunk 1t cost him his life. 1t
was late in the afternoon when we met
him again. We were in dry camp, a
camp in which snow must be melted for
water for man and beast. The boys
were busy at work shoveling snow into
camp kettles and melting it for the
horses. Supper was over and the
guards were out. A shot awoke the
reverberating echoes of the hills, and a
minute afterwards every man of the
fifty-fve "pilgrims - was prepared for
duty. A party of CigilanteS rode into
camp; they had come upon the guards
suddenly, and had been fired upon.
They were rough-loOking men, but all
quite civil. They inquired for lawyer.
We had one and he came forward.
They asked for a Judge; we had none,
so they elected one. They asked for a
! Il.
found in the reporter. They had
brought back the strange man of the
morning. He was a prisoner and
seemed TO realize his position. He
called the reporter and handed him
back his mine matter, and requested
him to write few short letters for him.
This was done and he signed them while
court was being held-the Judge seated
on pile of harness, the jury on a wagon
tongue.
'Dick Burnett" shouted one of
those strange, cruel men. Dick turned
to the reporter and, handing him his
papers and two or three pictures, said
in trembling, choking voice: 'lt's all
over with me, reckon. They all know
me and it's no use s1uealing."
He walked over to the wagon, while
two of the party started to barkless
old cottonwood tree, where IGriGt was
thrown over projecting limb.
"Dick Burnett" said old Col. Lyon,
"yOu've been caught in the act of steal
ing horses from the people of these
hills. You have also been found guilty
of shooting and wounding, with intent
| l., a wit
stealing his horse. This ere party OF
true and good men have settled this fact
and say you must hang. What have
you to say against it?"
Dick, while old man Lyon was speak
inc, manifested little or no feeling. He
:. looked in the faces of all and seemed tC
expect some interference from the mem
bers of our train. He paused moment
when he said:
al know | shot Pete Lambert, but he
: wanted to get the drop on me. took
his horse, and l may have taken few
others, but what done done when l was
drunk. If I've got to swing, III do il
like man, only give me time to fix NJ
matters afore l go"
Then the poor fellow sat down, ant
with tears in his eyes wrote a letter t
his father in Steubenville, Ohio, and one
to his brother in st. Louis, and still an
other to ladyin Coshocton, Ohio. Their
he arose, and dashing the tears from hi:
bloodshot eyes, said he was ready. He
gave his rifle and a horse to Col. Igor
to be sent back to the owner, Pett
Lambert, and folding his arms walked
,, to the tree. For a moment h
: hesitated. Life was sweet to him (h'
: was not thirty. But he was seized
and pushed forward to the tree, ant
mounted the horse without hesitation
Then the tears came gushing from hi
; ewes, while his arms were belted dow
to his side. The rope was passed owe
his neck, and drawn taut. Anothe
minute and the horse received a blow
which sent it galloping down the valley
and Dick Burnett was struggling be
tween heaven and earth. 1t was soOl
over, the rope was united, and he fel
to the earth, and was left to the pill
grims to bury. We rolled him up j
his saddle blanket, and entered him II
, the blood red soil of "Red Canyon