For a Few Strawberries
by Kerry Ross Boren
"Not on your life," the irrepressible youth would spout, after which he would swagger down the street in quest of some new form of mischief. He was not exactly a juvenile delinquent--just a misguided youth who sought to emulate the example of some hero of dime novel journalism.
Patrick Coughlin came from a good family. He was born at Canton, Massachusetts, June 23, 1874, one of six children (3 boys and 3 girls) born to Irish immigrant parents, Mr. and Mrs. E. D. Coughlin. The family lived briefly in Massachusetts, then moved to New York City, where some of Patrick's older siblings settled, and at last to Chicago, where other family members remained.
At least one of Patrick's brothers became involved with the underworld of Chicago, and their father, staunchly opposed, brought the rest of the family West, taking a job in the mines at Park City, Utah. He died several years later, and Patrick's aged mother took on the burden of raising the younger members of the family.
Left to his own devices, Pat Coughlin soon exhibited those tendencies which would eventually lead to tragedy. He hated being poor, and had grand visions of achieving wealth and fame.
He had a strong aversion to menial labor, but not liking the fact that his old mother had to go without the necessities of life, he began stealing chickens and garden vegetables to support her.
In 1893 he stole a handful of strawberries from a Park City grocer, and a warrant was sworn out for his arrest. It was a minor offense, but in consequence of all his prior mischief, the citizenry demanded that the youth be punished. But before the City Marshal could serve the warrant, Coughlin left town.
For a time he aligned himself with the hoodlum gang of young Lew "Kid" McCarty, son of outlaw Tom McCarty, and a nephew of Matt Warner, all notorious bank and train robbers. Kid McCarty's gang, however, was more notorious for robbing trolley cars and mugging strollers in Liberty Park, with an occasional market robbery along the Wasatch Front.
It was while associated with this gang of young toughs that Pat Coughlin met his erstwhile friend, an escapee from a reform school named Clarence Goddard--whose real name was Frederick George. Fred George was a relation by marriage to the family of Robert LeRoy Parker, soon to become famous as Butch Cassidy.
Through the influence of Fred George, Coughlin was introduced to Cassidy, and he attempted to join Cassidy's gang (he was in the process of organizing the "Train Robbers' Syndicate"--later to be called the Wild Bunch), but the amiable outlaw told him he was too young and inexperienced, and recommended that he seek a legitimate occupation instead.
Nonplussed, Coughlin determined to make a reputation for himself which would impress Butch Cassidy enough to accept him into the gang. With no particular plan in mind, Coughlin and George continued to hang around Salt Lake City.
Fred George & Pat Coughlin
In the meantime, Cassidy had problems of his own. In the spring of 1894, a warrant was issued for his arrest in Wyoming on the charge of stealing a horse, and Deputy Sheriff Bob Calverly of Uinta County, Wyoming, set out from Evanston to apprehend him. Calverly found Cassidy asleep on a bunk in a cabin, his gun hanging on the back of a chair nearby. Startled from his sleep, Cassidy reached for his gun, but Calverly clubbed him across the forehead with the barrel of his gun, which discharged, the bullet plowing a furrow across Butch's forehead, subduing him.
Butch Cassidy was sentenced to two years in the Wyoming State Penitentiary beginning July, 1892, and was released early in January 1894. By that time, Coughlin had, indeed, made a reputation for himself.
On July 24, 1895, Coughlin and George attended the Pioneer Day Celebration at Calder Park in Murray, a suburb of Salt Lake City, for the purpose of holding up a street car for enough cash to get them to Wyoming, but for some reason the plan failed, and they headed back into the city. On this return trip they stole the horse of John E. Rule, a grocer at Ninth East and Tenth South.
Coincidentally they encountered an acquaintance, a young man named Bruce, who had a little money, and they induced him to accompany them to the Uintah Basin, ostensibly to find work herding sheep. The three set out on Friday morning and by midday they were fifteen miles up Emigration Canyon. Stopping for a rest, Coughlin informed Bruce that they were actually going to Uintah Indian Reservation to rustle horses which they proposed to drive to Wyoming and sell to the Cudahy Meat Packing Company.
Hearing this, Bruce refused to accompany them further, saying he was going back to the city, but Coughlin and George took his rifle from him and held him up with it, taking all the money he had on him, about $12. The horse he had been riding had been allowed to drink water until it had foundered. Coughlin shot the animal and they rode off, leaving Bruce to walk back down the canyon to the city. As soon as he arrived, Bruce reported the event to Sheriff Hardy, who at once dispatched Deputies Smith and Gibbs on the trail of the thieves. Sheriff John Ward of Evanston, Wyoming, had been notified to be on the alert for them.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Harrington of Park City, with a posse of men, set out to intercept the fugitives, who were presumably on their way to Park City. Harrington had been warned that the desperadoes would be there Thursday night, and was on the lookout for them, yet they succeeded in getting into town and out again without being seen by the officers. The two young thieves had burglarized a cabin in Emigration Canyon, but those supplies had since been depleted, and they picked up more at Park City.
Friday morning Sheriff Harrington was notified that the boys had been in town, and immediately started out, in company with Earl Williamson and several others, to trail them down. At Wanship the Sheriff found the boys had stopped to have their horses shod, and had started up the Weber River towards the Wyoming border only thirty minutes before.
Borrowing an old rifle in Wanship, the Sheriff and his companions struck the trail again, following the fugitives through Rockport. Presuming that they would keep the road up the river, the posse rode on to Peoa, and there discovered they were on the wrong trail--the boys had left the road between Rockport and Peoa, and had taken a wood road up Crandall Creek.
Returning to the trail, Harrington and his posse followed the thieves up Crandall Creek some four or five miles, coming at last to a sheep wagon camped in the brush. Harrington approached the wagon and opened the door, and found himself facing young Patrick Coughlin with a Winchester at his shoulder, ready to shoot.
Sheriff Harrington courageously stood his ground (being still seated on his horse) and ordered Coughlin to drop the gun, and without hesitation the young man fired, the bullet striking the horn of the Sheriff's saddle and glanced upward, wounding him in the arm. Bits of lead from the bullet and pieces of leather from the horn also struck Harrington in the face, cutting him slightly.
The Sheriff immediately returned the fire, but his first shot missed, and to his dismay he was unable to eject the empty shell from the borrowed rifle. At the same instant, Fred George opened fire from the bush, and being between the two fires, the Sheriff and his companions were forced to beat a hasty retreat. Williamson received several bullets through his clothes and a slight flesh wound in his left forearm.
By this time it was apparent that the two would not be taken without a fight, and armed officers from every part of the country assembled for the pursuit. Although at the time, the county court and the county attorney were making all the trouble they could in the matter of refusing to pay expenses, Sheriff Hardy of Salt Lake County did not hesitate, but dispatched Deputies Gibbs, Steele, Smith and others to the scene at once.
The two young fugitives dashed about from place to place, avoiding the converging posses as best they could, stealing food and provisions where they found them. In Rich County, a few miles from the Wyoming border, they took refuge in a deserted cabin for a few hours of much needed rest. They were here spotted by A.M. Allison, who notified the nearest posse, consisting of Deputy Bob Calverly from Evanston (Cassidy's captor), Special Deputy Sheriff N.E. Dawes (ex-city Marshal of Evanston), Constable Stagg of Echo, and Deputy William Taylor.
The small posse arrived at the cabin, which was located on the ranch of A.E. Palmer, six miles from Clear Creek, at about five a.m. but in going to a nearby spring for water, Bob Calverly revealed his presence to the two fugitives, who were just emerging from the cabin, and George opened fire on him, wounding him slightly.
A general battle ensued and after some 30 shots had been fired by the pair, Deputy N.E. Dawes was shot through the chest. He was firing from behind a post, in a somewhat exposed position, and was an easy mark for Coughlin who fired the fatal shot. Coughlin was later to say, "that son-of-a-bitch jumped like a jack rabbit when it hit him."
Constable Stagg was killed a few minutes later, and Calverly and Taylor having exhausted their ammunition, decided to go for help, Coughlin and George escaping in the meantime. It was thought that Calverly had hit one of the two, as he had dropped his gun, but afterward it was found he had hit the stock of the rifle with the bullet. Deputy Taylor's coat collar had been shot-off.
Help soon arrived and the cabin was riddled with bullets, but the outlaws had escaped. The bodies of Dawes and Stagg had been robbed of their guns and ammunition before the two youths had left the scene.
Coughlin's account of the killings at the time of his arrest was as follows:
"We were asleep in the cabin when they commenced shooting on us. Why didn't they come up and ask us to surrender? But they didn't. They just commenced sending the volleys into the shanty. The bullets whizzed round our heads and the Kid
(George was sometimes known as Kid George) said we were gone now, sure. But I told him we must fight for our lives. So we started in. I did the shooting and the Kid did the loading. When we came out of the cabin the two fellows who were not shot ran like deer for their wagon and made off. Then I walked toward Dawes, who was lying on the ground. The old man was alive. He reached for his gun, which was a couple of feet from him, but I told him not to raise it, or I'd fire. Then he let it go, and I went up to him. He was shot through the lungs, and there was blood in his mouth. I got some water and washed out his mouth and gave him a drink. He said he was sorry they had fired on the cabin. (He) said they wouldn't have done it if they had known only the two of us were in the cabin. They thought there was a nigger horse-thief and another man in there, too. The old man said he didn't blame us for shooting at them. I didn't know Stagg was dead until the Kid called my attention to him. I never aimed at Stagg. Perhaps one of the deputies who were on the other side of the cabin from him shot him. I had nothing against Stagg. He knew me when I was little bit of a kid. But he had no business to come at us that way. After they started shooting, we had to fight our way out. When we did come out of the cabin and the two deputies were running away, we might have put bullets through them. But we thought we had done enough of that kind of work. And we were no longer in danger and it wasn't necessary to do any more shooting. We were delayed about three hours in getting away, because our horses had strayed off. Before we left we gave Dawes water three times and changed him from one position to another several times, so he could rest easier. He suffered much pain, but he found no fault with us. If we had had a pencil and paper I'd have asked him to write out a dying statement, setting us right, and would have pinned it on his breast. Before we started he told us how to travel to reach Ogden Canyon. He advised us to hurry off, as a big posse would soon be after us. When we came away he was still alive, and we said good-bye to him and started off."
Coughlin and George headed for Ogden, and for the next five days the telegraph and telephone wires were kept busy with reports of possible sightings of the pair, and arranging for increased numbers of possemen to assist in running them to ground. Sheriff Hardy went to Evanston with a posse and came back when he learned the men were coming back towards Ogden.
On the night of July 31, word was brought to Salt Lake City that the two men had been seen in Ogden and later they had passed through Kaysville. The patrol wagon was sent out toward Farmington and passed the two men on the road. Seeing the police wagon, Coughlin and George left the main road and cut across the fields and hills toward City Creek Canyon, a place with which George was familiar, having herded sheep there for some time.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Hardy and Deputy Marshal Dyer had returned to Salt Lake and reported that about 60 men, under the direction of the Sheriffs of Salt Lake, Weber, Summit, Morgan and Rich counties, had been out searching the country west of Evanston for the fugitives.
"It was very difficult to follow the trail of the fugitives," Sheriff Hardy told a reporter. "The country surrounding the place where Stagg and Dawes were killed is very rough and heavy rains have lately fallen there. We heard numerous reports that the desperadoes had been seen in certain places, and some of these sent the officers on wild rides."
This afternoon, Deputy Marshal Dyer and I rode into Wasatch about 1:00 to ascertain if any news had been received. At the depot, I saw a dispatch which had been sent to Sheriff Wright at Ogden by a courier who had been sent in by a rancher. The dispatch stated that the fugitives had gone down Ogden Canyon, and urged the Sheriff to send a posse up the canyon to meet them. I knew that Sheriff Wright was in the hills, and so Dyer and I took the first train for Ogden to prepare to meet the thieves in the Canyon. When we reached Ogden we heard that the men we wanted were near the city. I telephoned to my office, and the news being verified by Deputy Clark, we came down."
Sheriff Hardy sent a posse out to spend the night searching for the outlaws, consisting of Deputies Vandercook, J. M. Young,
Welsh, Stewart and Brown. Hardy himself left early the next morning with three or four other men.
Sheriff A.H. Dickson of Rich County, and Deputy Sheriff W.H. Branch of Summit County, at the head of a posse of ten men, arrived at Ogden about 4:OO on the afternoon of July 31, on the trail of Coughlin and George. This posse had followed the fugitives from the scene of the shooting, over the South Fork above Moyers' Mills over to Monte Cristo. There learning that the two wanted men had been seen at Ogden, Dickson and Brach rode hard ahead of their posse to Huntsville, where, their horses being played out, they left them and took a rig into Ogden.
Here they were joined by Deputy United States Marshal Ballantyne, who had started after the men when he heard that they were in Ogden. When news arrived that the outlaws were in City Creek Canyon, the officers set out for Salt Lake City. Dickson and Branch, at least, having been several days in the saddle and totally exhausted.
On the morning of August 1st, Officers R.L. Shannon and O.P. Pratt, who had been out all night searching in City Creek Canyon, encountered Officers Donovan and Janney, and these four proceeded together up the canyon--Officer Pratt slightly in the lead of his companions. Pratt spotted two horses in the brush, up the peak of a rocky hill, and saw two saddles on the ground near them. Getting closer, Pratt saw the two young men, and called for them to surrender, but the response was two bullets which whistled uncomfortably close to his head. The outlaws were in the rocks, while Pratt was on open ground, and the other officers had not yet caught up to him to give him cover fire.
Pratt raised his Springfield rifle to return fire. but to his shock discovered that the trigger was defective and it would not fire. He was saved by the arrival of the other officers behind him, who protected him until he retrieved a second rifle. He aimed at one of the men and fired, but his shot missed, instead hitting
Coughlin's horse in the back, killing it. Coughlin and George grabbed up their saddles and shouldered them, then made off through the rocks over the peak and out of sight.
The Salt Lake Tribune reported:
" Sergeant Ford, who was a great military genius, headed a force of police armed with Springfield rifles and fired 600 rounds at all rocks in the canyon which would hide a man, while the pair were escaping across the hills and down towards George's home, by way of the reservation (Fort Douglas)."
Captain Donovan and his men started in pursuit. Pratt, heated up by the battle, tied his horse and venturesomely slid down the embankment of City Creek, and tried to recover the trail of the two men. About 200 yards beyond the big rocky peak he found the trail leading into the heavy underbrush, but Captain Donovan called him back, telling him he was too exposed. The four officers took up the trail again farther on.
About a hundred yards from the rocks they found the saddles, a little farther on, the blankets, and still farther the horses' bridles. Following the trail further seemed too dangerous on account of the thick brush, so the officers set up a fusillade into the brush in hope of driving the men from their cover, but the two never came out.
Additional officers now began to arrive under the leadership of Officer's Sheets, Roberts and Carey, and soon the hills were teeming with possemen, all mounted and heavily armed.
Again, the Tribune reported:
"They are thought, undoubtedly, to be driving for the haunts of friends either in the Cottonwood district or across the river among the tough gangs of Tooele County, although one wild supposition gives them the credit of being on the way to the penitentiary to get better protection than would probably have been their fortune if they had been captured in Wyoming."
For two days the young fugitives managed to hide while hundreds of armed officers looked for them. Sheriff Hardy learned later that he had walked through a building in which the two men with a relative of George, who was trying to aid them--were concealed. Had they been discovered, a desperate fight would certainly have ensued.
Coughlin himself afterwards related that at Mill Creek Canyon he thought he would have to shoot Deputy Sheriff Irwin, and that if the deputy had not turned away at the last minute, he would have died instantly. Detective Franks, with his bloodhounds, was in the chase, too, and Coughlin stated that he shoved one dog away from him with his gun, while it was smelling around him.
Through the connivance of friends the men were mounted on horses, given some food and started west on the night of August 3. They passed on E.T. Ranch at the point of the Great Salt Lake on the morning of the 4th.
They stopped at the Third Term Inn, where they hoped to find refuge with the Grantsville Gang, but these toughs resented the pair leading a posse into their territory, and were informed to leave. They made a camp in Willow Creek Canyon and went to sleep.
On the morning of August 5, the Rydalch family surrounded the camp, remaining out of sight, while others rode for Sheriff McKeller of Tooele County, who was already on the ride with a posse of determined citizens. They soon joined the Rydalch family who had been keeping watch.
The two young men were practically exhausted through forced marches and loss of sleep, and they were sleeping soundly when rudely awakened by the booming voice of big John Rydalch, saying: "Throw up your hands and come on out--you are surrounded!"
Coughlin, surprisingly, was the first to surrender, coming out of the brush with his hands behind his head, and gave himself up to John Rydalch. Coughlin then urged George to come out of the brush as there was no use holding out longer. "We are surrounded and might as well cave in," he called out. George then timidly came out and gave himself up to Sheriff McKellar.
Sheriff Hardy went out as soon as he received word of the capture and, on August 7th, brought the two men back to Salt Lake City by train and lodged them in the county jail.
The Salt Lake Herald reported:
"An immense crowd met them at the depot and to the shame of the city, there were some who wanted to have them released. Confined in jail, George proved himself to be the respectable one of the pair, Coughlin was vile, profane and irreverent in all his conversations. He jibed at policemen, at reporters and every one and made a general nuisance of himself. George, on the contrary, seemed to realize the predicament he was in and was very subdued."
On the same day, August 7, the two men were arraigned before Commissioner Morris Sommer on a charge of horse stealing; later, Sheriff Hardy swore out a complaint charging them with the murder of Dawes and Stagg. They were then removed to Ogden, the killing having occurred in that district.
A Salt Lake Tribune reporter, reflecting upon Coughlin's behavior, wrote:
"After the arrest, Coughlin seemed particularly proud of the reputation which he had made, and completely overshadowed his partner, Fred George. People flocked to catch a glimpse of the youthful murderers, both in this city and Ogden, and mistaking morbid curiosity for an aggravated form of adulation, Coughlin snickered and laughed and boasted. His swaggering suit and nonchalant air impressed all who saw him with the belief that he was laboring under a mistaken idea of his own importance and the few who at first were moved to a slight feeling of compassion for him on account of his youth turned from him in disgust."
"Despite the fact that the blood of two law abiding citizens was upon his hands, he seemed to think himself a hero. He openly boasted of the manner in which he killed Stagg and Dawes and laughed as he recounted the varied and exciting experiences which he and George had encountered since the battle at the Rich County cabin."
It was in October, 1895, that Coughlin and George were tried at Ogden before Judge Bartch for the murder of the two men. George pleaded guilty to the charge of murder in the first degree and threw himself on the mercy of the court. The result was that he was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Utah State Prison, then located at "Sugarhouse," a section of Salt Lake City.
Coughlin, however, unmindful of the fact that the men were endeavoring to arrest him for a crime previously committed, pleaded self-defense, and with the aid of three skilled lawyers--O'Brien, Johnson, and Hayes--paid for with money from relatives in the East, fought the case all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. But the evidence was so overwhelmingly against him that the jury promptly returned a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree without a recommendation for mercy, and he was sentenced to death.
The preliminary part of the trial was before United States
Commissioner Ternes who committed the prisoners to the Sheriff to await trail. The trials were held separately.
A.B. Hayes and T.D. Johnson, the attorneys appointed by Ternes to look after the interests of the defense at the preliminary hearing, were employed to defend Coughlin; later he employed O'Brien to assist, believing the Irish attorney could better represent his interests.
Their main line of defense was that the accused acted in self-defense. They laid stress on the fact that Dawes, Taylor and Calverly of the posse were Wyoming officers and had no jurisdiction in Utah, while Stagg, being a constable, had no jurisdiction outside of Echo in Summit County. They brought out the fact that the posse opened fire without warning and at a time when the men in the cabin had no means of knowing that they had come to arrest them. But at best the attorneys could make but a defense of technical grounds, and this was combatted by a mass of evidence from members of the posse and from others whom Coughlin had fired upon once before, including Sheriff Harrington and one of his deputies.
Coughlin's attorneys were handicapped by their client's disregard of their advice. He would talk of the killing and boast of it, even when on trial. He talked thus to at least two officers, without any prompting on their part, and they testified to what he told them. It was very damaging to the defense.
For example, his attorneys endeavored to show that the boys had no knowledge that Dawes, Stagg and the others with them were officers, but Coughlin boasted that they thought the men were the Park City officers after them for his firing on Sheriff Harrington.
During this period Coughlin's mother visited him at the penitentiary. He cursed her at the visits and assured her that he never wanted to look upon her face again. He further assured her that his only desire was to be shot and dumped into a grave behind the walls of the prison. He also cursed the workings of fate which had decreed that he must die, while Fred George, whom he claimed was equally guilty, was allowed to live. He blamed this on the fact that George came from a prominent Mormon family, while he was Irish-Catholic, and not a native of Utah.
After the action of the Supreme Court of the United States in refusing to hear his appeal, his attorneys petitioned the State Board of Pardons for a commutation of the sentence to imprisonment for life. Upon a denial of the petition an application was made for a rehearing, but this was also denied.
Coughlin had been found guilty on October 26, 1895, and he was sentenced to death on November 6. On that day he was asked if he had any choice in the mode of death, and with an air of bravado he replied, "I'll take lead."
"Do you mean to elect that you will be shot?" asked the court.
"That's what I mean," answered Coughlin.
The execution was delayed by legal maneuvers. His appeal was heard in the Supreme Court on February 24, 1896, and a petition for a rehearing was submitted on March 27. On April 16 a Writ of Error was argued and denied on the 24th of the same month. A stay of execution was granted pending a Writ of Error being submitted to
the U.S. Supreme Court, which was denied August 18, and later the remittitur came down and was sent to the judge of the First Judicial District, who sentenced Patrick Coughlin on December 9th to die on December 15, 1896.
Coughlin continued to maintain an air of bravado entirely at variance with his condition. His old mother, who did all she could for him at the trial in Ogden, attempted to kiss him, while on the train en route for Salt Lake City, but was repulsed with a curse.
After Coughlin had been found guilty and had been sentenced he was taken back to the marshal's office. His mother was present, moaning and wringing her hands. The old foreman whom Coughlin had worked under in Park City was also present, was much affected and kept saying, "Oh, Patsy, why did you do it?" But Patrick Coughlin remained unaffected and exacting.
Of the few sensible remarks remembered by his guards, was one made in the jail at Ogden, on the night he spent there, on his way to Woodruff to be resentenced. When he reached the cells where the other prisoners were kept he said to some of them: "Boys, this tough life ain't what it's cracked up to be. It's all right for awhile, but sooner or later they gather us in."
Sheriff A.L. Dickson and Deputy Sheriff A. McKinnon, Jr., brought Coughlin from the state prison via Ogden, where he spent the night in jail, leaving the next morning, a Sunday, by train. They arrived at Woodruff about 5 p.m., where they rested about an hour to warm up, as it was freezing cold. Randolph was reached about 7 p.m., and the prisoner was lodged in the county jail. Coughlin appeared cheerful with no apparent fear of his approaching doom, although he appeared a little nervous while passing through Evanston and showed relief when that town was left behind.
Promptly at 10 a.m. Monday morning, December 9, 1896, Coughlin was brought into court. The Judge, C.H. Hart, ordered the prisoner to stand up. Coughlin replied, "I will when these cuffs are taken off." Sheriff Dickson removed the cuffs and he stood up. The Judge remanded until Wednesday morning when the date and time for
execution would be fixed. Coughlin appeared almost perturbed by the delay, saying that he had paid an attorney $1,000 to represent him, and he expected him to be here.
On Wednesday, December 11, Coughlin was brought back into court at 10 a.m., and stood up as Judge Hart sentenced him:
"It is therefore ordered and adjudged, that you, Patrick Coughlin, be taken from hence to some place of confinement until Tuesday, the 15th day of December, 1896, and between the hours of 10:OO in the forenoon and 2:OO in the afternoon of the said last named day, in the yard of the jail, or place where you are confined, or in some other private place within the judicial district, you be shot until you are dead."
Coughlin portrayed no emotion whatever, excepting a slight perspiration on his forehead. In a cool and deliberate manner, he asked, "How many days is that, Judge?" Judge Hart replied, "Six." Coughlin said, matter-of-factly, "That is very little time. I was allowed forty days before, and I have relatives I want to see, some of whom live 1000 miles from here." Sheriff Dickson removed the prisoner in the midst of his protestations.
The Salt Lake Daily Tribune under date of Monday, December 14, reported:
"Judge Hart performed his very painful and unpleasant duty--the first of the kind--in a praiseworthy manner...The prisoner's meals are supplied by the Randolph hotel, and he gets what he orders. No one expect the Sheriff and his assistants are allowed near the jail, at night a password is used...Extra ordinary precautions are being taken against escape of rescue of the prisoner. Two men are constantly in the cell with him, and a sentry, armed, continually patrols the outside of the jail: there are also a number of armed men in the courthouse, which is only about thirty feet from the jail."
There was some sound reason for such security precautions, besides the apparent ones. It was feared that Butch Cassidy and his Wild Bunch might try to rescue Coughlin. Earlier that year, Matt Warner had killed two men near Vernal in a gunfight, and had been taken to Ogden for trial. Cassidy and some 20 or 30 men had ridden there in armed force, threatening a rescue. Butch had over-taunted his old nemesis, Bob Calverly, while passing through Evanston.
Matt Warner had talked Butch and the boys out of rescuing him from jail, but asked instead for a good attorney to defend him. Butch Cassidy, Elzy Lay and Bub Meeks staged the robbery of the Montpelier, Idaho, book on August 13, 1896, obtaining $7,100 which they used to hire an attorney for Matt. It was feared that Butch and the gang might still be hanging around Evanston, Wyoming, waiting for an opportunity to rescue Coughlin, who had ties to the bunch.
Again, the Tribune reported:
"There was some fear, though but a slight one, that a rescue would be attempted. The arming of a party of men from Evanston and Park City to take Coughlin from the Sheriff and lynch him was also reported. In consequence many otherwise unnecessary precautions were taken."
Among the passengers on the train from Ogden to Evanston the previous Sunday was Patrick Coughlin's mother. She was en route to Randolph to see her wayward son before he died. A storm was raging when the train reached Evanston, blowing stinging snow from the northwest. Strong men refused to go out or to subject their horses to the storm, but Mrs. Coughlin was determined to set out at once and go to her son. The stage did not run on Sunday and the only way of reaching Randolph was by private conveyance.
Mrs. Coughlin appealed to Bob Calverly, one of the deputies who was with Stagg and Dawes at the time of the murder, and who was wounded himself in the encounter, to get her a rig. Calverly, former foreman of the Carter Cattle Company, told her that it was very uncertain whether she could get to Randolph at all.
"Oh, I must go and see him before he dies," she said.
Calverly persuaded her to wait until the next day, Monday, saying there would be ample time and she had little choice but to wait. Mrs. Coughlin finally made it to Randolph and remained with Patrick all afternoon and through the night. The poor woman's sufferings were pitiful to witness. It appeared, as though her heart would break with grief. She wanted to be present at the execution but was dissuaded by friends.
On Thursday, Coughlin informed the Sheriff he was aware he had to go, and wanted to prepare for the hereafter, and requested that his priest, Father Galligan, of Park City, be sent for. The Priest arrived on Saturday and stayed with the condemned man through his execution. Coughlin made his confession on Sunday and received the last rites of his church.
It was proposed by Bob Calverly, who had charge of the execution, to have the affair take place just over the line from Evanston; to bring Coughlin from Randolph to Evanston Monday night, confine him in the jail there and then early next morning take him to the place of execution.
Sheriff Dixon of Rich County feared there might be a rescue attempt by the Cassidy gang and this plan was abandoned. The site finally chosen was a barren area at Sage Hollow, about three miles from Woodruff and nine miles from Randolph in a little gulch among the hills off the main road.
In addition to requesting that the priest attend, the doomed man requested that ex-Warden Dow, Sheriff Heber Wright of Ogden, Deputy Dennis Sullivan, and his cousin Dennis Lane be invited to witness the execution.
"They are my friends and have used me right," Coughlin said, "and I want them there when I am shot."
On the day before his execution, the Daily Tribune reported:
"Coughlin shows no signs of weakening up to the present: on the contrary, he appears cheerful and contented. He is very little trouble to his custodians and expresses himself well pleased with the treatment he has received here. Of morphine, which he is said to have craved, he has taken none, neither has he asked for it. Just before sentence on Wednesday morning he asked for a drink of whisky, but when it was offered him he refused it, saying it might affect his head: he took a small drink after sentence and another at night, about a gill all told, and that is all in the shape of intoxicants he has taken since arriving here; he does not even take coffee with his meals, preferring milk..."
Coughlin did not like reporters. He requested that none be allowed at the execution, but that request was disregarded. He refused to make any statement and requested the Sheriff to permit no reporters to see him. He evidently conceived a liking for editor Wallace of the Randolph Roundup, however, for he granted him an interview in which he admitted the killing Stagg and Dawes and described the manner thereof.
"Dawes was behind a post when I pumped it into him and he jumped like a jack rabbit," Coughlin said. I would do the same thing over again if I was there for they were shooting at me." Regarding the gunfight with Sheriff Harrington he said: "When I pulled my gun on him he threw up both hands and begged me for the sake of his family to spare his life."
Coughlin's last night on earth was spent partially in company with his mother, who parted with him for the last time at about 2:OO in the morning. For the first time the condemned man showed genuine emotion for his aged mother, and spoke with her in great sadness, tears in his eyes.
His heart-broken mother told him to "Die like a man," to which he replied, "Never fear, mother, that I will not die like a man." Father Galligan remained with him until he went to bed at 2:30 a.m. and "slept like a baby" until morning.
The condemned man arose a little before 7:OO on his last morning, and his bravado seemed to have returned. When asked what he would like for breakfast--his last meal--he said he would enjoy some "Dawes and Stagg meat and a steak off Calverly."
He eventually ordered a whole chicken, and devoured it all. In fact, during his last two days, he ordered only chicken. On Monday night, at supper, he threw aside a bone, saying, "Life is too short to pick bones."
An hour later, dressed in a heavy coat against the terrific cold, he was on his way to his death. He chatted cheerfully with those accompanying him, sang several Irish folk songs to while away the nine-mile ride, and told Sheriff Dickson, "Never fear that I will not die like a man; I will die as game as anyone you have ever known." The procession was accompanied by a bevy of armed guards, front and rear, while Sheriff Dickson had one complete wagon equipped with men armed with Winchesters.
Sage Hollow, the scene of the execution, is a little depression in the flats, with here and there a low hill that scarcely breaks the monotony of the view. To the north a couple of miles is a spur of the Wasatch Mountains, at the base of which ripples the Bear River.
In the middle of the hollow the chair of execution was placed, facing the east. The chair was oak-wood, with rounded arms. Its legs were fastened to stakes driven deeply into the ground, while its back was supported by two heavy four-inch planks.
Thirty feet from the chair was the tent housing the firing squad, at the west side of which were five apertures just below the junction point of the roof and the side wall.
Two hours before the hour fixed for the execution (10:30 A.M.) the early arrivals at Sage Hollow began. Those first upon the scene were Deputy Sheriff Calverly of Evanston, Wyoming, and the five men selected by him to do the actual work of inflicting the death penalty; they arrived at 8:30. Before the arrival of others,
Calverly's men had practiced several times the duty they were to perform. From that time they remained within the little tent that had been erected on Monday. Their identities were never disclosed, and after the execution, they remained within the tent until the crowd dispersed.
Coughlin left Randolph at 8:30 A.M., riding in a covered wagon with Sheriff Dickson, D.W. Eastman and Archie McKinnon as guard, and Dr. E. Lee of Randolph, Father Galligan, and his cousin Dennis Lane.
The wagon arrived at Sage Hollow at 10:18 A.M., and the canvas-covered wagon drove between the tent and the chair, stopping in front of the latter, and all within alighted, Coughlin last. He removed his heavy Ulster coat and tossed his black soft hat into the wagon, then removed his second coat. When Sheriff Dickson pointed, he seated himself in the chair.
There were between 200 - 300 spectators present. Coughlin's eyes roved slowly over the stern-visages gathering, the cluster of wagons in the background, and the low limestone hill to the east, upon the summit of which a little knot of spectators had gathered to watch the gruesome spectacle. As he looked, he stroked his downy mustache pensively.
The overshoes were removed from his feet, leaving a new pair of patent-leather slippers; the irons were taken from his ankles and his vest removed. He wore only a black shirt of silk and trousers. His arms and legs were bound by straps to the chair, by Sheriff Dickson, D.W. Eastman and Archie McKinnon. The straps were stout hemp rope, and in addition to his ankles and wrists, his shoulders were also bound. Meanwhile, Father Galligan was administering to him and encouraging him.
"Be of good courage," said the Father, "it will soon be over."
"You bet your life," Coughlin replied.
Among the spectators were two women who refused to identify
themselves to reporters. Others present were Sheriff McKeller of Tooele County, with his brother, and Deputy Sheriff W.P. Branch of Summit County, as well as Marshall William Taylor, whose collar had been shot off by Coughlin in the gunfight. A.N. McKay of the Tribune, David Gill of the Deseret News, C.M. Jackson of the Salt Lake Herald, and editor Allred of the News-Register were present, in spite of Coughlin's objections. None but officials and newspaper men were allowed within a certain distance, the armed guards keeping everyone else back.
"Patrick Coughlin, have you anything to say?" asked Sheriff Dickson.
"Nothing," replied Coughlin, "except my request that I don't want my picture taken." It was too late--amateurs and professionals had been working while he was being fastened.
A black handkerchief was fastened around his eyes as a blindfold. Father Galligan donned his vestments and came forward to administer spiritual consolation.
"Repeat after me," he said after Coughlin had kissed the crucifix. "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
Coughlin fervently repeated, following with, "I forgive all my enemies."
Dr. Lee pinned the target over his heart, a piece of paper four inches square and a diamond in the center. The farewells were pathetic to witness, especially that of his cousin, Dennis Lane, who sobbed bitterly as he shook his hand, kissed him and said, "Oh, Patsy, Patsy, good-bye, good-bye."
"Goodbye," Coughlin said from beneath his blindfold; they were the last words he ever uttered.
Father Galligan shook his hand a final time and withdrew. Bob Calverly stepped to the door of the tent and in a low tone began to count: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten." The reports of the rifles rang almost simultaneously, and five streaks of flame were emitted from the tent side.
Coughlin stiffened in his chair: it was precisely 10:25 a.m.
Father Galligan was at his side instantly and began to administer the rite of extreme unction. Dr. Hocker of Evanston and Dr. Lee of Randolph came up next and quickly removed the blindfold.
Coughlin's head was erect and defiant, but in a few moments the muscles relaxed, the eyes closed, and his head dropped on his shoulders. The doctors reported that while Coughlin felt no pain whatsoever, it was four minutes before the spark of life fully left him, and he was officially dead. He had kept his word; he died bravely.
Four bullets entered the body (one rifle contained a blank cartridge, to ease the conscience of the executioners), one through the small diamond, one a little to the left, one just outside and to the left, and one below the target and left; all four pierced the heart. The bullets passed completely through Coughlin's body and nearly through the planks. All four were found imbedded closely together in the wood.
A crowd began to gather almost immediately around the body, and the guards tried ineffectively to hold them back. The two mysterious women came up and viewed the body and paid final respects before departing. Then the corpse was unbound and placed in a casket which was loaded into a wagon for transport.
There was a brief moment of fear and concern when, shortly after Coughlin was shot, someone handed Deputy Bob Calverly a note which read:
CALVERLY -
I HAVE JUST COME TO SEE FOR MYSELF HOW A COWARDLY SON OF A BITCH LIKE YOU SHOOTS A MAN WHO CAN'T SHOOT BACK.
Calverly took the note seriously, having received several similar notes earlier in the summer, each with the distinctive "CASADY" signature, but a cursory inspection of the crowd did not reveal Cassidy's presence.
The Tribune reported:
"Many (of the spectators) were armed with Winchesters, in apprehension of some overt act that might follow the numberless rumors afloat. But none occurred, happily."
The same reporter wrote:
"Coughlin died as he promised--game. With scarcely a tremor, he viewed the preparations of death, and without one sigh of regret, he submitted to the black cap and the mortal destruction that followed it fast. No man could have displayed more unflinching courage. The only indication of the feeling that rent his breast came when Dr. Lee was pinning over his heart the white paper target for the concealed marksmen. Coughlin appeared for a moment to catch his breath, then again calmness possessed him.
"The scene of the execution was about twenty-five miles directly north of the little cabin near Wasatch, where Dawes and Stagg were killed. It was the first execution in Rich county's history..."
Coughlin's body reached Evanston shortly before 6:OO, being in charge of an undertaker with the unlikely name Cashin. It was shipped on the midnight train to Park City for interment. Mrs. Coughlin and her two nephews, Dennis and James Lane, with Father Galligan, accompanied the bier.
Two days later services were held in the Catholic church at Park City, conducted by the faithful Father Galligan, and the body was buried in the local cemetery.
On the same day, two events occurred. The first was reported by the Tribune as follows:
"Sheriff Harrington of Summit County telephoned yesterday, asking the Tribune to declare for him the absolute falsity of Coughlin's statement that Harrington begged for his life on account of his family."
The second event was the State Sunday School Convention, the theme of which was misguided youth, and Patrick Coughlin was extolled as an example of how one youth went bad, committed murder and was executed--and all this with the most simple of beginnings....for a few strawberries.
EPILOGUE
While it may or may not have anything to do with the story, it is interesting to note that exactly twenty-two years later, on December 15, 1918--the anniversary of his death--Patrick Coughlin's niece, Mae Coughlin, became the wife of notorious Chicago mobster "Scarface" Al Capone. One cannot help but believe that Pat Coughlin would have liked that.
SOURCES:
The Salt Lake Tribune: August 5, 1895; December 16, 1896
The Daily Tribune: December 14, 1896
The Salt Lake Herald: December 15-16, 1896
The Deseret News: December 14-16, 1896
The Randolph Roundup: December 14-16, 1896
Court Dockets: October 26, 1895; November 6, 1895; February 24, 1896; March 27, 1896; April 16, 1896; August 18, 1896; December 9, 1896.
"The Unforgiven: Utah's Executed Men," by L. Kay Gillespie, Signature Books, Signature Books, 1991.
"The Gangsters," by Timothy Jacobs, Mallard Press, 1990.
Interviews:
Tom Welch: 1965, Green River, WY
Mrs. Ethel George (Butch Cassidy's Cousin): 1971, Leeds, UT
Robert Calverly, Jr.: 1966, Evanston, WY
Ralph Harvey: 1972, Lyman, WY
Patrick Albert Lane (Coughlin's second cousin): 1968, Park City, UT
Kerry Boren
Shoot Out at the old Shed
Pat Coughlin tied to a chair to be shot
For Stealin Strawberries
