News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1883-01-04
HANGING THE WRONG MAN.
A Little Sketch of Western Lynch Law.
From the Detroit Fraa P,aeo I

From the Detroit Free Press
You see, William Bowers was as much
to blame as any Of us, and being he was
the man who was hung, he ought to have
entered into particulars to further ex-
tent than he did.
shall always blame him that he
didn't.
William was placid. I knew him for
three years, and only three times did [
know of his countenance undergoing a
change for even a second.
Once he met a grizzly face to face, and
that placid expression gave way to a
look of surprise and interest. He was
pursued on another occasion by twenty
four Indians, and his countenance ex-
pressed homesickness. The third change
is what I am going to tell you about.
There had been a good deal of rob-
bing and killing around the camp that
! summer, and somehow it had been i'm
j possible TO lay a nand on one of the per-
| petratOrs The men had become rolled
and desperate and it was generally I'M
derstOod that the first offender who fell
into our clutches would step off the head
of barrel to be brought up suddenly
by a rope and a limb
One day when some of the boys were
returning from Pot-Luck Creek with
flour and pork, they came upon the
placid William Bowers in a bad situation.
] He was bending over the body of a man
named Powers, who had been settled by
the thrust of a bowie, and his hands were
| bloody.
| The placid William was nabbed.
What did he do? Nothing at all.
What did he say? Why, when the
boys laid hands on him he quietly re-
marked that he discovered the body only
five minutes before, and was inspecting
it in hopes to discover signs of life.
Too thin.
! And too placid to fit that crowd.
The camp didn't waste any valuable
time over Williams case. Within the
hour a court was convened, William was
arraigned, and the dead body was placed
III sight of all.
Circumstances were against the prison
er, but there We're some things we for
got. William had been a quiet, honest,
civil resident of Diamond Gulch. He
had never been known to carry bowie
knife. He had been down the trail to
wash some shirts, and had discovered
the body on his return. He scarcely
knew the murdered man by sight, and
could therefore have had no grudge
against him.
The victim had little or no money,
while the accused had the biggest pile of
any man in camp.
Butplacid William should have kicked.
Which he didn't do worth a cent. He
pleaded not guilty in careless, indiffer-
eut manner, as if the result was of no
particular consequence to him. He told
about going to wash his shirts, and of
the finding Of the body, but there was
nothing anxious about him.
''If you believe me let me go; if you
don't believe me bring ON the rope =
IN .>,a, H. -,,,,. ..,-1 g'r1,"t@noo OF
his defense, and it was bad for William.
When it was too late we saw where he
| could have proved his record clear if h
had tried to, but we had sent him to an
| swer before the highest court of all.
| Well, the court could scarcely fail to
convict under the circumstances, and in
! l.. f,,1
duty of the Judge to arise and remark;
civilian, you have been found guilty
Of murder. Does it make any great diff
ference to you whether you are hung this
afternoon or tomorrow? Weather's liza
BILE to change, you know, and we may
not have such an afternoon again for Il
week"
The placid William replied that he
would be ready in half an hour, and he
was.
He went to his shanty, accompanied by
Col. Smith, and when he had disposed Of
his property and written a letter to a
friend in the East, he walked coolly to
the gallows tree, mounted the barrel, and
never winked an eye when the moose was
slipped over his head.
Then came painful pause.
William was about to be launched into
! the great unknown.
1t is a serious thing to kick barrel
from under the feet of fellow man and
ct a rope catch and choke him to death.
We felt it 50, and when the pause came
we could hear each others hard breath
ing.
civilian Bowers p soIemnly remarked
the Judge. "you are about to hang !"
" Yes, calmly replied the prisoner.
"And now once more [ ask you if You
are guilty Of the awful crime?"
"No,' was the equally calm reply.
But he has been tried, convicted and
sentenced and the sentence must be car
ried out. 1t was when the man advanced
to pull away the barrel that William
countenance lost its placidity. For five
seconds he seemed a stranger to us all.
A white shadow crossed his face, look
of fear crcpt into his eyes and his jaws
fell.
Then placid William was himself again,
He braced right up, shut his teeth and he
died with countenmce as unreadable as
a stone
X X
A week afterward a robber who was
fired on and fatally wounded confessed
that he was guilty of the murder fol
which William Bowers had been hung.
That was nice mess for us, and there
was many solemn faces as we gathered
around the Judge and asked him what
could be done about it.
"'WelI, l reckon we'd better have al
inquest, if thar be no objections, was the
reply, and we had one.
We viewed the rope, the barrel, the
tree and the grave, and the verdict was:
"Hmg the wrong man and sorry fol
it."
But placid William was half to blame
He should have seriously objected to be
ing hung.
The CBATMANT.-Mr. Anthony Bid
dulph visited the Tichborne claimant {
few days ago ut POrtsea convict prison
for the first time since the convicts re
mOval from Dartmoor. The claimant has
lost considerably in weight, and has ageC
T., ,,o,,oorol II, l,a op+l "