Boise's First Hanging
Boise’s first hanging was a community affair. No, there weren’t bleachers around the gallows so that hot dog vendors could ply their trade. It was more participatory than that. Boise’s first hanging was at the hands of vigilantes.
First, to the crime. Nineteen-year-old Reuben Raymond and John C. “Johnny” Clark were Ada County volunteers who had been out looking for marauding Indians for several weeks. They returned having found none.
The volunteers, about 40 in number, had been put together in a somewhat slapdash manner, getting supplies and horses any way they could. Upon their return, a farmer who owned one of the horses wanted it back. Clark testified that the horse did not belong to the farmer, as did others in the posse. Raymond backed up the farmer’s story.
Around noon on April 3, 1866, after Raymond’s testimony in court, Clark confronted him. The quarrel grew more violent when Clark made a rush at Raymond and struck him, according to the Idaho Tri-Weekly Statesman. Raymond drew his pistol. Clark drew his pistol. Someone nearby tried to take the pistol from Clark, who refused to give it up. Then, Raymond said, “don’t be afraid, I’m not going to shoot.”
At that, Clark told Raymond to go ahead and shoot. The young man replied, “I don’t want to shoot: I’ll give you the first shot.” Clark took him at his word and fired his pistol at Raymond, shooting him in the abdomen. Raymond lingered until dark, then died.
Clark was immediately arrested and held for trial.
This drawing appeared in the book Frontier Law: A Story of Vigilante Days, by William J. McConnell.
Fearing a lynch mob, law enforcement authorities stationed a young soldier outside of the guardhouse, as well as two deputies inside. It wasn’t enough.
Between one and two in the morning on Saturday, April 7, a group of some 20 men overpowered the army guard and the deputies inside, tying them up. They grabbed Johnny Clark out of his cell and disappeared into the night.
The guards got loose quickly, but not fast enough to see which direction the mob headed.
The April 10, 1866, edition of the Tri-Weekly Statesman, led with the story: “There was considerable excitement in town at an early hour last Saturday morning as the news spread that there was a man hanging to a temporary gibbet of three poles just outside of town on the prairie toward the bluff.”
Tacked to one of the poles was the following:
The newspaper noted that, “In regard to the crime of Clark, there is but one opinion in the community and that is that he was guilty of a cold-blooded murder.”
If you’re wondering where the Ada County Sheriff was in all this, he can be forgiven for not taking an interest in the case. He was being hung by vigilantes himself in Idaho City about the same time.
Vigilante justice was the only justice in early Idaho. When Congress created Idaho in March 1863, lawmakers forgot to make any laws, leaving that up to the Territorial Legislature, which did not meet until December that year. They quickly went about creating laws, but it took some time for the legal structure to catch up.
The State of Idaho’s third governor, William J. McConnell, who would also served briefly as one of the state’s first US senators, was also something of a historian. He wrote a couple of books on Idaho history, including one called Frontier Law: A Story of Vigilante Days, in which he recounts the story of Idaho’s first hanging. He got the year and the time of year wrong, and invented a bit more dialogue between the murderer and the murdered. He also placed the hanging smack dab where the Idaho statehouse now stands, but got most of it right. I mention that because McConnell himself participated in vigilante justice in the early days of the territory.
First, to the crime. Nineteen-year-old Reuben Raymond and John C. “Johnny” Clark were Ada County volunteers who had been out looking for marauding Indians for several weeks. They returned having found none.
The volunteers, about 40 in number, had been put together in a somewhat slapdash manner, getting supplies and horses any way they could. Upon their return, a farmer who owned one of the horses wanted it back. Clark testified that the horse did not belong to the farmer, as did others in the posse. Raymond backed up the farmer’s story.
Around noon on April 3, 1866, after Raymond’s testimony in court, Clark confronted him. The quarrel grew more violent when Clark made a rush at Raymond and struck him, according to the Idaho Tri-Weekly Statesman. Raymond drew his pistol. Clark drew his pistol. Someone nearby tried to take the pistol from Clark, who refused to give it up. Then, Raymond said, “don’t be afraid, I’m not going to shoot.”
At that, Clark told Raymond to go ahead and shoot. The young man replied, “I don’t want to shoot: I’ll give you the first shot.” Clark took him at his word and fired his pistol at Raymond, shooting him in the abdomen. Raymond lingered until dark, then died.
Clark was immediately arrested and held for trial.
This drawing appeared in the book Frontier Law: A Story of Vigilante Days, by William J. McConnell. Fearing a lynch mob, law enforcement authorities stationed a young soldier outside of the guardhouse, as well as two deputies inside. It wasn’t enough.
Between one and two in the morning on Saturday, April 7, a group of some 20 men overpowered the army guard and the deputies inside, tying them up. They grabbed Johnny Clark out of his cell and disappeared into the night.
The guards got loose quickly, but not fast enough to see which direction the mob headed.
The April 10, 1866, edition of the Tri-Weekly Statesman, led with the story: “There was considerable excitement in town at an early hour last Saturday morning as the news spread that there was a man hanging to a temporary gibbet of three poles just outside of town on the prairie toward the bluff.”
Tacked to one of the poles was the following:
The newspaper noted that, “In regard to the crime of Clark, there is but one opinion in the community and that is that he was guilty of a cold-blooded murder.”
If you’re wondering where the Ada County Sheriff was in all this, he can be forgiven for not taking an interest in the case. He was being hung by vigilantes himself in Idaho City about the same time.
Vigilante justice was the only justice in early Idaho. When Congress created Idaho in March 1863, lawmakers forgot to make any laws, leaving that up to the Territorial Legislature, which did not meet until December that year. They quickly went about creating laws, but it took some time for the legal structure to catch up.
The State of Idaho’s third governor, William J. McConnell, who would also served briefly as one of the state’s first US senators, was also something of a historian. He wrote a couple of books on Idaho history, including one called Frontier Law: A Story of Vigilante Days, in which he recounts the story of Idaho’s first hanging. He got the year and the time of year wrong, and invented a bit more dialogue between the murderer and the murdered. He also placed the hanging smack dab where the Idaho statehouse now stands, but got most of it right. I mention that because McConnell himself participated in vigilante justice in the early days of the territory.
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