The Posse After Tom Bell

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A pair of tired, dust-covered detectives escorted outlaw Tom Bell to a noose dangling off a limb of a sycamore tree. No one spoke a word as the rope was slipped around his thick neck. More than fifteen lawmen from Sacramento, Marysville, and Nevada City, California, made up the posse that apprehended Bell at his hideout at Firebaugh’s Ferry near the San Joaquin River. The ruthless highwayman and his gang had eluded the law for more than a year. Bell’s reign of terror would end here – a mere four hours after he was captured on Saturday, October 4, 1856.

Bell held in his hand a pair of letters his executioners allowed him to write before they administered justice. Outside of the firm grip he had on his correspondence, he didn’t show the least bit of fear. Judge Joseph Belt, the self-appointed hangman and head of the posse, sauntered over to Bell and looked him in the eye. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked.

“I have no revelations to make,” Bell replied. “I would be grateful, however,” he added, “to drink to the health of this party present and hope that no personal prejudice has induced them to execute me.” Judge Belt nodded to one of his men who stepped forward with a bottle of whiskey and offered it to Bell.

Bell lifted the bottle to the men and thanked them for their thoughtfulness. “I have no bitterness toward anyone of you,” he said. He took a drink and handed the bottle back to the lawman. “If you let me now…before I go. I’d like to read aloud the letter I wrote to my mother.” Judge Belt scanned the faces of his men; no one seemed to have any objections. “Go on,” Belt told the bandit. Tom unfolded one of the letters in his hand and began reading.

“Dear Mother, I am about to make my exit to another country. I take this opportunity to write you a few lines. Probably you may never hear from me again. If not, I hope we may meet where parting is no prodigal career in the country. I have always recollected your fond admonitions, and if I had lived up to them I would not have been in my present position; but dear mother, though my fate has been a cruel one, yet I have no one to blame but myself.

“Give my respects to all old and youthful friends. Tell them to beware of bad associations, and never to enter into any gambling saloons, for that has been my ruin. If my old grandmother is living, remember me to her. With these remarks, I bid you farewell forever. Your only boy, Tom.”

Bell refolded his letter and bowed his head in prayer. Two lawmen stepped forward, took the letters from him, and tied his hands behind his back. Tom lifted his head and nodded to Judge Belt. His horse was whipped from under him, and he swung into space. Judge Belt’s posse was one of three notable posses assembled between March 1856 and October 1856 to track down Tom Bell and his gang of highwaymen terrorizing settlers in the Gold Country.