A Condemned Poet
by Gil Bollinger

The only hanging to occur in Johnson County, Wyoming, took place on March 5, 1886, in back of the Courthouse. The principal character at this "neck-tie party" was a John Owens who was known locally only as Bill Booth. It seems that Booth had been convicted of bludgeoning to death an emigrant German settler named Jacob "Dutch" Schmerer. The sequence of events following the murder and prior to the hanging included flight, a trial, multiple jailbreak attempts, and a poetry writing effort. The following text will chronicle this unique event in Johnson County's frontier history.

Owens, aka Booth, was born in Ohio in 1862. He left home at age 17 and drifted gradually westward, arriving in Buffalo during the summer of 1884. He was about 5'10" tall, had black hair and was generally a clean-cut young man. He hired on with Jacob Schmerer, who had homesteaded on Dry Creek, about six miles southeast of Buffalo, to help with haying and other chores.

The following year, in March, Booth and Schmerer fought in the latter's cabin Booth's subsequent story was that their fight was over some deer meat that Booth had promised and then didn't deliver. Schmerer was angry, as he had already promised the Occidental he would provide them with the venison for their guests. The fight ended with Booth killing Schmerer by hitting him on the head several times with a hatchet.

One of the Schmerer's neighbors, a Burrill Madden, noticed that Schmerer and his wagon were missing and that his stock was being neglected. He reported his concerns to Sheriff Frank M. Canton. Schmerer's body was subsequently found on May 2, 1885, within a mile or so of his cabin.

A subsequent search of Schmerer's cabin revealed that a robbery had also occurred. Sheriff Frank M. Canton suspected the absent hired man Booth of robbery, murder and then flight with Schmerer's wagon and team. There was no telegraph or telephone available at the time so Wanted Posters were distributed by stagecoach and train throughout the area after a May 27th Warrant was issued.

Law officers in Miles City, Montana, subsequently apprehended Booth and put him in their jail. Canton was notified and he sent Deputy Sheriff John McDermott to bring Booth back to Johnson County for Trial. On June 8, 1885, Booth was arraigned before Justice Burritt. He pleaded not guilty and was committed to jail to await trial. After the arraignment, the town blacksmith made shackles for Booths legs and then riveted them on for the time he was to spend in Buffalo's jail.

Judge Jacob B. Blair presided over Booth's trial. Prosecution attorneys were Charles H. Burritt and H. S. Elliott and the defense attorney was J. H. Hinkle. After a three-day trial, July 8-10, 1885, Booth was found Guilty of Murder in the First Degree and March 5, 1886 was set as the execution date. Booth "...not even then showed a sign of being particularly interested one way or the other." (Big Horn Sentinel, July 11, 1885).

Once in jail, Booth was persistent and very ingenious in his attempts to escape the forthcoming hangman's noose. The first attempt involved the steel pen nibs in use at that time. After asking for paper, pen and ink he later asked for more nibs saying he'd worn the previous ones to the stage they were unusable. What he was doing was tempering them with a candle and urine to a hardness and shape that he was able to "file" through the rivets holding his shackles. Canton was informed by a Crow Indian, "Big Belly," who was also being held at the time, of Booth's intention to overcome him with his now free shackle chains and then escape. Canton saw to it that the shackles were again riveted in place.

A second escape attempt involved a fellow prisoner, Leo Lambrigger, in jail then on a minor offense. Lambrigger was allowed some free time and he managed to let Booth and another prisoner, Carson, out of their cells. The two then hid in a space between the top of the cells and the roof that held a water-supply tank. They were waiting there for darkness to complete their escape. Sheriff Canton was again informed by Big Belly where the two prisoners were hiding. When Canton found them Booth attempted to resist and was knocked out by a blow to his head with Canton's six-shooter.

The third and final escape attempt was on January, 1886. Canton found a rather sizable hole in Booth's cell floor before he was able to use it. Booth had made the hole with a make-shift saw fashioned by nicking one side of a steel support strip from within the sole of his boot. A second "saw" was found hidden in Booth's coat collar and taken away from him.

Sometime prior to his execution, Booth wrote the following poem:

"Air of the Cottage by the Sea"

Now come all that I may tell you
far and near and Every place.
I am not a man of freedom but
Death stares me in the face.
I am not in no condition for to
Tell you what I know.
For a Man can never live long
In the jale at Buffalo.
When I come to Johnson County
I was honest straight & free.
But there is a bad Misfortune that
has happened unto Me.
It was when I lest expected
that a Man of lowe degree
Hes the cause of all this trouble
That Has Happened unto Me.
I have got a wealthy father but
I will not let him know
That I am in this condition
In the jale at Buffalo.
I will never be a freeman so
The truth to you Ile tell.
I am now a Prisoner in
A Dark and Dreary cel.
There's a thing that I will mention
This dark and dreary place
Not a spark or Ray of Sunshine
Ever shines upon My face.
And the rest that I will tell you
On this long and dreary day.
For my days are shortly numbered,
Time is wearing fast away
I got a Home in Texas
That I long once more to see
But there is no use of Mourning
For I know Ile never get free.
Never never leave your home boys
For the truth to you Ile tell.
Now I am a lonely prisoner in a
Dark and Dreary cell.
I have not a friend in Buffalo
That Im sure and I know well.
But IM not a Wilfur Murder and
the truth to you Ile tell.
When I got into this trouble
There was no one to bee seen.
If there was I would not bee here
But bee out upon the green.
I had never thought of trouble for
I thought I knew this man.
But he got in a rage of pasion
and said Ile kill you if I can.
I was there without a weapon and
I knew not what to do.
But I went a little further
Than I really wanted to.
I have got a home in Texas that
I long once more to see.
But a man in my condition
That can never never bee.
I have an older brother
Of Me would like to know.
But then he has no idia
IM in Jale in Buffalo.
Come and lis to what I tell you,
Never leave your Dear old home.
For now I am very sory that
I ever began to roam.
I left home quite a young lad but
I thought that I knew well.
But then now I an A prisoner
In a Dark and Dreary cel.
I have got a dear old father
That I long once more to see.
But a Man in my condition that
Can never never bee.
I have got a Dear old mother
In some low and secret place.
But I never more shall see her
Until Death had takeing place.
Before I can to this country
I had friends and more than one
But now I have got in trouble
So you see that I have none.
Now my days are shortly numbered
But I want you all to see
That a better hearted fellow
In A Jale will never be.

Hon. Bill Booth, Buffalo, Johnson County, Wyoming

The preceding poem was found among the papers in the sheriff's office years after the hanging was published on March 25, 1891, in the Buffalo Bulletin, under the caption: "Posthumous Poetry."

Booth writes a very poignant poem even though some words are misspelled and capitalizing is done in a haphazard manner. About midway through when he mentions a man that "....got in a rage of pasion and said Ile [I'll] kill you if I can," he was referring to his defense story that Schmerer had attacked him in his cabin because Booth had earlier failed to deliver some venison. Booth's story that he'd killed Schmerer in self-defense was, of course, rejected by the jury at his trial.

A gallows that was ten feet square and had 13 steps leading to a platform with a lever-controlled trapdoor was built behind the present-day Court House. Sheriff Canton served as hangman. Booth's last statement was, "What time is it?" When told it was 11 am, he replied "I wish you'd hurry up. I want to get to hell in time for dinner." Twelve minutes later, John Owens, a.k.a. Bill Booth, departed this life.


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