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A Decent, Orderly Lynching: The Montana Vigilantes

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One tends to associate the dark legacy of lynching almost exclusively with the South of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, but in point of fact the most extensive episode of vigilante justice in American history actually took place in the Montana territories in the 1860s. The Montana vigilantes have long been hailed as heroes in Montana (Montana Highway Patrolmen, for example, still bear a patch honoring these men and their cause), men who took upon themselves the obligation to rid their community of dangerous individuals. In this thrilling historical account, however, Frederick Allen pries open the chinks in the vigilante movement's historical armor to show that their brand of frontier justice eventually descended into something much darker and much less defensible.

In the early 1860s, Montana was a wild country overrun by thousands of men clamoring for the new-found gold in its rivers and streams. Even as gold camps began appearing overnight, there was no government of any sort to oversee justice - just miners' courts to settle disputes over claims and the like. The nearest outpost of territorial authority lay hundreds of miles west of the Montana frontier. Thus, it is easy to see how lawlessness could prevail under such conditions; it manifested itself most particularly in the form of stagecoach robberies on the paths leading away from town. A man could lose a whole season's worth of gold dust in the blink of an eye, and such hold-ups could turn deadly on occasion. What could the settlers do to secure their safety and safe passage back to the States or elsewhere? There was no legal system in place in the territory, there were no cells to hold prisoners, and there were no courts or judges to adjudicate cases. There was a sheriff, however, a fascinating man named Henry Plummer - and he really stands at the core of the entire drama. He came to be suspected of complicity in the robberies and murders in the area, and this growing sense of doubt in their sheriff served as the final impetus for the leading men of Bannack and Virginia City to take the law into their own hands. Plummer was among the 21 men hanged during the first six weeks of 1864. There will always be a level of debate as to Plummer's guilt or innocence, and Allen examines this fascinating man's life in great detail. The real question is how a man twice convicted of murder could have become a sheriff in the first place, but this speaks to the true remoteness of the Montana territory in those days.

In all, 51 men were killed by the vigilantes over a six-year period. Allen agrees with the consensus opinion that the early stage of the movement was justified, as there is evidence that all 21 of the men lynched in the first six weeks of 1864 were guilty, dangerous men - including Henry Plummer. Were the story to stop there, the Montana vigilantes would deserve nothing but admiration for bringing order and security to their local community. They did not stop, however, and their activities inevitably devolved into acts of personal vengeance and the very perversion of justice. In that first crucial period of early 1864, accused men were given trials of a sort, their fates usually decided by the entire community. Hangings took place in broad daylight, and the identities of the vigilantes were in no way kept secret. As time went on, however, men were summarily executed by individuals acting upon little more than their own authority. With no hope or manner of defending themselves, it is very likely that some innocent men were hanged - and there can be little doubt that many of the guilty had not committed crimes serious enough to warrant death.

As is always the case in history, the most fascinating aspect of this whole story is the lives of the men involved. Allen identifies the vigilantes as leading citizens of the area, an unusual amalgamation of men both for and against the battle for Southern independence being waged during that chaotic time. Politics came to play a significant role in the whole saga, as the appointed leaders of the newly-established Montana Territorial government did themselves no favors by immediately alienating the significant number of Democrats among the local populace. This new government was ineffective at best, with the executive and judicial branches nullifying each other's authority - and this provided the pretext for the vigilantes to continue their operations.

A Decent, Orderly Lynching really is a fascinating book. Allen brings to life the mining camps of gold-rush Montana, recreating all aspects of society there on the remote frontier. He offers penetrating assessments of the men at the heart of this story, those on both sides of the hanging rope, drawing a sharp distinction between the early, honorable activities of brave men determined to establish order in their lawless region and the excesses of those who continued to pursue vigilante justice after Montana's new territorial government had been established. Through it all, he maintains an objective air, making his own judgments based on the evidence in hand - and his research efforts were impressive, to say the least. The story of the Montana vigilantes is a most telling part of the history of America, and Allen has done a superb job telling that story to those of us unfamiliar with it.

In lawless gold rush days, Montana's vigilantes took inspiration from San Francisco's -- but lynched ten times as many victims. Until now, the bloody story of the Montana vigilantes in the 1860s has flattered the legendary law-and-order gang with each retelling; the vigilantes remain heroes (perhaps saints?) in Montana, models of manliness and rectitude. But Frederick Allen has taken a fresh and deeper look at this fascinating tale. The picture he paints is darker, more nuanced, and ultimately haunting. Allen's vigilantes -- good men whom too much bloodletting finally corrupted, and who tried to cover their historical tracks -- provide a perfect narrative arc for a master storyteller. A great book for almost anyone: historians, fans of the West, fans of a terrific tale. Highly recommended.

This recitation of Montana Vigilante activity is the best yet. I've read Dimsdale's book (a painful read of newspaper articles that were collected and published later as a book by Dimsdale's son) and Nathaniel Langford's "Vigilante Days and Ways" (much easier to read than Dimsdale's and a worthwhile view from an insider), but Allen goes beyond them to compile data from private journals, court transcripts, etc, that truly brings the story alive. Further, Allen's writing explains the politics, private asides, and observations of many of the citizens of the time. A thorough explanation of how the State of Montana was sliced off Idaho Territory is intertwined and highly relevant.

People who hate "High Noon" have been known to cite the goings-on in Idaho Territory of the 1860s as proof that an enraged citizenry would never back down from outlaws. According to "eyewitness accounts," a locally formed vigilance committee rounded-up Sheriff Henry Plummer and his bloodthirsty compatriots and, with the aid of lots of rope, soon put an end to the rampant murder and robbery in the gold camps.

While this account made for excellent melodrama, it was a bit too pat to stand the test of time, and of late, had become the center of some arguing and fist shaking in the vicinity of Alder Gulch. Frederick Allen painstakingly examines the players and their times. His conclusions will not please the revisionists nor the vigilante apologists. While the vigilantes started out with the best of intentions and went after the worst of the thugs, their focus was lost in the chaos and power struggles of their era. Like many mavericks, they went from being heroes to embarassments.

But Allen confirms that Henry Plummer, George Ives & Co. were not martyrs of misdirected justice. It's too bad the vigilantes didn't have the forsight to stop while they were ahead.

This is the type of book that gives University Presses a good name. The author is a former political editor and columnist with the Atlanta Constitution and commentator for CNN. He has managed to write a scholarly yet reader friendly book that challenges some standard accounts of the famous Montana Vigilantes and their sometimes extra-legal activities. In what was the deadliest chapter of vigilante justice in American history, from 1864-1870, in excess of 50 men were hanged in Montana. The majority were inocent of capital crimes and a disturbing numer were innocent. This is a riveting book that will, in addition to bringing the reader up to date on a significant chapter in western history, cause one to ponder the significance of the Vigilantes on our current political debate over the war on terrorism. This is first rate scholarship in a reader friendly format. Highly recommended.

Montana's original vigilantes of the 1860's reached near-mythical status as white-hatted do-gooders, unselfishly ridding the territory of murderers, highway robbers, and horse thieves. But did they throw out the baby with the bath water? And why did they take the law into their own hands in the first place? "A Decent Orderly Lynching" (a chilling title if ever I read one) answers these questions and so many more, presenting a thorough background to the political and legal morass that was early day Montana. This book has the best background on Sheriff Henry Plummer -- the infamous "sheriff by day, leader of murderous road agents by night" -- I've ever read, and shows the first territorial governor Sidney Edgerton to be so passive as to be practically paralyzed. Numerous books, diaries, and newspaper accounts are included in the sources, giving a rich and unobtrusively footnoted framework to the text.

If you love history of the old west, and history of Montana in particular, this book is not to be missed.

I am always careful about books written by journalists from back East, especially when they deal with Montana's vigilantes. Frederick Allen, however, has made a worthwhile contribution to a controversial field.

I gave him five stars, although I do not entirely agree with some of his conclusions. It seems to surprise him, for example, when Plummer and some of his contemporaries started bouncing off the walls mentally after shooting somebody.

My experience in law enforcement has been that such behavior is normal. There are some sociopaths out there who just like to kill and don't feel any emotion about it, but they are few and far between despite what Hollywood scriptwriters would like you to believe.

This is a well written book, but it didn't change my opinion that the vigilantes cleaned up a situation that had spun out of control at a time when nobody else would, or could. The country was, after all, engaged in a bloody Civil War and the struggling miners in Montana's goldfields needed something to restore order in their isolated, vulnerable communities. Vigilante justice proved to be better than no justice at all.

This amazing book works on three different levels. It is first of all a compelling, action-packed narrative of Montana's vigilante period - carefully researched, engagingly written, and peppered with memorable characters and dramatic action. Western fans will love it. But Allen does not stop there. His brilliant examination of Henry Plummer, the mysterious and elusive sheriff-protagonist, adds deeper and darker shadings to the story. This is less a black-and-white tale of heroes and villains than one about how power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely. The author does not trade in the romanticism surrounding the vigilantes. Finally, and most remarkably, Allen's book can be read as an allegory about the uses and misuses of all governmental power. In the nineteenth century, Montana's besieged citizens cried out for help against their version of terrorists -- only to discover belatedly that the response by unchecked governmental authorities could be equally lawless. Who would have thought that the Vigilante Trail led to Abu Ghraib?

Good book with additional info. I visited Bannack & the robbers roost near Sheridan this summer. I used to live in the Gallatin Valley. Does anyone know where Bill Hunter was hung in Gallatin Valley? Once again good book with details.

"A Decent Orderly Lynching: The Montana Vigilantes" will leave you asking one question: why did we ever voluntarily surrender our freedom to the current "judicial" system which protects the guilty and sacrifices the freedom of all just persons on the altar of the supposed rights of the guilty? No one believes that our current system effectively protects us against predators or has any rehabilitative effect- so why do we stubbornly cling to it and pretend that it's working? The Montana Vigilantes produced JUSTICE. Unfortunately, our current Americans are so wishy-washy and uncommitted that they surrender their freedoms (i.e. firearms, civil liberties, self-determination) for the illusion that they are safe. We pretend that if we ignore evil, it doesn't exist. It is sobering to think that less than 150 years ago, people cared enough about each other, society, and their country to enforce the law and demand- at the end of a rope- that the rules be obeyed. We have obviously sunk into the abyss. It's time to mount up and ride.