Henry Plummer: Outlaw or Victim?

The Enduring Riddle of the Gilded Frontier

Picture this: a booming gold rush town, wild as a bobcat with its tail on fire, smack dab in the middle of nowhere. You got Bannack, Montana — just a speck on the map, but glitterin’ with promise and danger in the early 1860s. In rides Henry Plummer, slick as rain on granite, gets himself elected sheriff… and ends up swinging from his own gallows, accused of being the biggest, baddest outlaw around.

You can’t make this stuff up. But, hell, folks sure have tried — and that’s the problem. The earliest accounts (like Thomas J. Dimsdale’s The Vigilantes of Montana from 1866) weren’t exactly written by neutral bystanders. Dimsdale and his ilk had an agenda: to justify the hangings, convince the world the vigilantes were right, and to paint a damn clear line between good and evil.

But that line? It’s crooked as a mountain road. We ain’t ever likely to know the whole truth about ol’ Plummer, but by pickin’ through the tall tales, court records, and the bones left hangin’ in the wind, we can get a little closer to the heart of the mystery.

The Gilded Frontier: Gold, Greed, and Chaos

Alder Gulch, 1863. Gold! Just say the word and watch folks flood in from every compass point. Bannack and Virginia City ballooned overnight. Prospectors, gamblers, preachers, hustlers, merchants, and more than a few folks with warrants back home all tried to make their fortune.

Life in the Gold Camps:

Lawless, wild, and rough as a porcupine’s armpit.
Gold dust was currency ($20.67/oz, if you’re countin’).
With a poke full of gold, even the toughest sonofagun was fair game for road agents.

You didn’t just worry about grizzly bears, partner — you worried about two-legged wolves lurking along the trails.

The Vacuum of Authority: Miners, Courts, and Lawlessness

Now, Montana in the 1860s wasn’t even Montana yet — it was a forgotten outpost in Idaho Territory. Courts? Law? Hell, the nearest “official” lawman was probably a thousand miles of mud and misery away.

What Passed for Justice:

Miners’ courts: Local assemblies meant to settle mining disputes, but useless against murder and highway robbery.
Civil law: So slow and expensive most folks just spat and grabbed their guns instead.
Systemic failure: When the courts can’t help, folks tend to take the law into their own calloused hands.

With crime spiralin’ and justice missin’, the stage was set for Montana’s own brand of mountain law.

he “Innocents” Gang: Outlaws in the Shadows

Here come the “Innocents” — a name as ironic as a preacher at a poker table. These fellas were the terror of every gold-laden traveler between Bannack and Virginia City. Estimates say the gang had anywhere from 20 to 100 men at its peak (though you know how stories grow in the tellin’). Secret codes, signature knots in their neckties, informants everywhere, and a headquarters at Rattlesnake Ranch — the whole deal.

What Did the Innocents Really Do?

Attacked gold shipments, travelers, stagecoaches.
Early accounts claim they killed over 100 folks; real confirmed deaths? More like eight.
Paranoia and sensationalism made their legend bigger than life.

Still, whether the “Innocents” were a mighty syndicate or just a ragged gang, their crimes — real and imagined — left folks scared and angry.

Henry Plummer: Lawman, Outlaw, or Both?

Time to talk about the man himself: Henry Plummer. Born around 1832, Plummer hightailed it to California during the gold rush, racked up a string of jobs (miner, rancher, baker), and got himself in a world of trouble.

Plummer’s Past (Short List):

Killed John Vedder in California — claimed self-defense but still got ten years in San Quentin. Locals petitioned for his release after only six months (said he was sick with tuberculosis).
Killed William Riley in 1861, then hit the trail for Idaho.
Landed in Bannack in 1863, where he survived a deadly shootout in a saloon (again, self-defense, so folks said).

Charismatic, competent, and always close to trouble — Plummer was the kinda fella who could charm your mama and shoot your daddy, all in one day.

The Web of Evidence (and Whispers)

So, how’d a fella go from respected sheriff to the most infamous outlaw in Montana lore? Mostly, it was a tangle of suspicion, confession, and a helluva lot of rumor.

Key Events and Accusations:

Murders and robberies soared in 1863. Among them: Lloyd Magruder and crew robbed and killed for $12,000 in gold, Peabody and Caldwell’s stagecoach hit for $2,800.
Some victims claimed they recognized Plummer among their attackers. One lad, Henry Tilden, swore he saw the sheriff himself.
Plummer’s own deputies, Ned Ray and Buck Stinson, were suspected road agents.
A gang member, “Red” Yeager, named Plummer as the boss before gettin’ strung up.

But… there was never a trial, never a lick of real evidence. Mostly, it was a mess of fear, angry whispers, and “confessions” at the end of a rope.

Profiles in Rope: The Hanged and the Haunted

When the vigilantes finally decided to act, the floodgates opened. Over 20 men were hanged or banished in just the first six weeks of 1864. Some deserved their fate — some, well, history ain’t so sure.

Notorious Cases:

George Ives: Tried in the open, found guilty by a jury of angry citizens. His hanging lit the fuse for the vigilante movement.
George “Clubfoot” Lane: Bootmaker, respected in town. Hanged after being accused of spying for the gang. His mummified clubfoot ended up in a museum, for God’s sake.
Boone Helm (“Kentucky Cannibal”): Flat-out killer and cannibal. Asked for whiskey, then jumped off the gallows with a final curse on his lips.
Hayes Lyons, Jack Gallagher: More deputies turned outlaws, more hangings — and more questions about who was really guilty.

Every rope left scars — not just on the necks of the hanged, but on the conscience of a territory trying to define justice with no real courts in sight.

The Vigilante Uprising: Justice, Montana-Style

The folks of Bannack and Virginia City had had enough. Out of frustration and fear, they formed the Vigilance Committee of Alder Gulch in December 1863 — a secretive, disciplined group sworn to clean up the gulches by any means necessary.

How They Operated:

Secret leaders, organized like a military company.
Vowed to hunt down and hang murderers and thieves.
Held “mock trials” — swift, sure, and often fatal.
Within weeks, they’d executed over 20 men and driven many more out.

It was frontier justice — messy, brutal, and, in their eyes, absolutely necessary.

The Hanging of Henry Plummer: Justice or Vengeance?

On January 10, 1864, it all came crashing down for Henry Plummer. Vigilantes nabbed him and his deputies, hustled them out to the gallows he’d ordered built for other criminals, and — after a failed bribe attempt — strung ‘em up for the world to see.

No trial. No lawyer. Just a rope and a swift end. The folks doing the hangin’ believed they’d rid themselves of the mastermind behind the Innocents. But history? History ain’t so sure.

Legacy of the Gallows: Doubt, Debate, and the Modern Myth

For decades, the story stood: evil outlaw sheriff, righteous vigilantes, end of story. But the more historians dig, the murkier it gets. Was Plummer really guilty? Or was he a scapegoat, sacrificed by a mob hungry for order (and maybe a little gold of their own)?

Points for Plummer’s Innocence:

No trial, no solid evidence.
Confessions came from men about to be hanged.
Plummer was politically opposed to many vigilante leaders (they were rich Republicans, he was a Democrat, if you want to get spicy).
His appointment as a legitimate deputy U.S. marshal arrived just days too late.

Revisionists vs. Traditionalists:

Revisionists: Plummer was railroaded; vigilantes abused power, seized property, and rewrote the story.
Traditionalists: The vigilantes were a necessary force for order; Plummer was guilty as hell.

In 1993, a posthumous “mock trial” for Plummer ended in a hung jury — half for guilt, half for innocence.

The only thing clear is this: we’ll never really know.

Plummer in Pop Culture: From Dime Novels to Video Games

Can’t keep a good story down. Henry Plummer pops up everywhere — from dime novels (Alder Gulch by Ernest Haycox) to TV shows (“Stories of the Century”) to Italian comics and the 2013 video game Call of Juarez: Gunslinger.

Sometimes he’s a villain, sometimes a tragic hero. But he’s always a symbol — of Montana’s wild past and of the blurry line between justice and vengeance.

The Vigilante Legacy: Symbols and Shadows

No Montana legend is complete without a symbol, and for the vigilantes, that’s “3-7-77.” You’ll see it on the patches of Montana Highway Patrol, on the Montana Air National Guard, even pinned to bodies back in the day.

Nobody’s quite sure what it means — some say grave dimensions, others a warning to buy a ticket outta town. What’s clear is it started as a death threat and ended as a badge of Montana pride.

Conclusion: A Tale with No End

Henry Plummer’s story is the ghost that won’t quit hauntin’ Montana. Lawman? Outlaw? Victim? Villain? Maybe all, maybe none. The real lesson is this: when courts fail, “justice” can get mighty ugly. The truth hangs somewhere between the gallows and the gold, still swinging in the Montana wind.

FAQ

Q: Was Henry Plummer really guilty?
A: There’s no hard evidence, just a stew of rumor, confession, and old-fashioned fear. Historians still argue about it.

Q: Who were the Montana Vigilantes?
A: Local citizens who took the law into their own hands when the courts failed. Sometimes heroes, sometimes murderers — depends who you ask.

Q: What does 3-7-77 mean?
A: No one knows for sure, but it was a vigilante symbol — a warning to get outta town, or else.

Q: Is any of this still visible in Montana today?
A: You bet! Bannack and Virginia City are now historic sites, and the 3-7-77 is still worn with pride by Montana law enforcement.

Q: Where can I read more?
A: Scroll on down to the sources — and check out other 406 Life content for more Montana mysteries.

Sources

The vigilantes of Montana; Or, popular justice in … – Project Gutenberg, link
“The Lawmen Faced the Outlaws, No Badge Upon a Breast:” Historical Memory and the Legacy of Henry Plummer – ScholarWorks at University of Montana, link
Montana Vigilantes – Wikipedia, link
The Road Agents of Virginia City | Montana History, link
Vigilantes in Montana | Memorializing Racial Terror: Lynching Markers in the United States, link
Innocents (gang) – Wikipedia, link
Henry Plummer – Wikipedia, link
Clubfoot George – Wikipedia, link
Stories of the Century – Henry Plummer | EP17 | COLORIZED | Jim Davis – YouTube, link
3-7-77 – Wikipedia, link

And a heap more, referenced up yonder in the text — be sure to check ‘em for the deep cuts!

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