Category: Historic Events

Treloar Murder January 14, 1881

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Bodie, California, was a booming gold mining town in Mono County during the late 1870s and early 1880s, with a population peaking around 8,000-10,000 residents. Known for its rough frontier atmosphere, the town was rife with saloons, gambling, and violence, earning it a reputation as one of the Wild West’s most lawless settlements. While official law enforcement existed, including sheriffs and deputies, the remote location and frequent crimes often led to extrajudicial actions by vigilante groups. One such group was the Bodie 601, a secretive vigilance committee formed around 1880-1881, whose name reportedly stood for “6 feet under, 0 trials, 1 rope.” The murder of miner Thomas H. Treloar by Joseph DeRoche (also spelled Deroche or Daroche) in January 1881 became the catalyst for the 601’s most infamous act, highlighting the town’s precarious balance between formal justice and mob rule. This incident, rooted in jealousy and infidelity, underscored the dangers of personal disputes in a volatile mining camp and contributed to Bodie’s enduring lore as a “bad man’s” paradise.

Miners Hall, Bodie, California - Photo by James L Rathbun
Miners Hall, Bodie, California – Photo by James L Rathbun

Background: The Key Figures and Rising Tensions

Thomas H. Treloar, born around 1850 in England (possibly as Thomas Henry Treloar to parents John Treloar and Eliza Batten), was a Cornish hard-rock miner who immigrated to the United States. He worked in Virginia City’s Comstock Lode before arriving in Bodie during its gold rush boom in the late 1870s. Treloar was known for his resilience; he survived a dramatic 225-foot fall down a mine shaft in Virginia City, which left him with injuries described by the Daily Free Press (January 18, 1881) as rendering him “little more than half witted.” Despite this, he continued mining and married Johanna Londrigan (also spelled Lonahan) on January 2, 1879, in Bodie. The 1880 census listed him as a 30-year-old miner born in England, living with his 28-year-old wife Johanna, who was born in Rhode Island to Irish parents. Treloar had taken out a $1,000 life insurance policy with the New England Life Insurance Company, set to mature in 1881 (equivalent to over $100,000 in modern value), which Johanna allegedly married him to claim, as she reportedly told auction house owner John Brophy: “Oh, I married him for that endowment policy on his life, which will be due in a couple of years; and then I will have the money.”

Joseph DeRoche, a French-Canadian in his late 40s or early 50s (born around 1831), owned the Booker Flat brickyard and a two-story brick house in Bodie. He had a wife and three children in Chicago but had known Johanna for about 12 years, first meeting her in Chicago in the late 1860s. Rumors of an affair between Johanna and DeRoche circulated widely in Bodie, fueling Treloar’s jealousy. The couple’s marriage was troubled; Treloar once punched Johanna, leading to his conviction for battery in June 1879. Tensions escalated as Treloar quarreled with both his wife and DeRoche over the suspected infidelity.

The Incident: The Shooting at the Miners’ Union Hall Ball

Exterior View of the miners hall in Bodie, CA Photo by James Rathbun
Exterior View of the miners hall in Bodie, CA Photo by James Rathbun

The fatal confrontation unfolded on the night of January 13, 1881, during a social society ball at the Miners’ Union Hall on Main Street in Bodie. Treloar, dressed in denim work clothes, arrived around 11:00 p.m. and confronted Johanna. By 12:30 a.m., he saw her dancing with DeRoche, despite having explicitly told her not to. Enraged, Treloar confided to the doorman, “I told my wife not to dance with that man, and she said she wouldn’t,” and expressed to George Morgan his intent to kill DeRoche. Warned of the threat, DeRoche stepped outside and exchanged heated words with Treloar, later claiming he had “run Treloar off with a gun.”

After the ball ended around 2:00 a.m. on January 14, 1881, Treloar and Johanna left the hall and walked down Main Street. DeRoche, who had left earlier, ambushed them at the corner of Main and Lowe Streets, emerging from the darkness. He pulled a .38 caliber double-action Forehand and Wadsworth revolver (sometimes described as a British Bulldog revolver) and shot Treloar in the back of the head, with the bullet entering just below the left ear, killing him instantly. Witnesses G.W. Alexander and E.S. Butler, who were nearby, heard the shot and saw DeRoche fire without provocation. Butler grabbed DeRoche’s gun and asked, “What did you shoot that man for?” DeRoche falsely claimed, “Because he jumped me — see where he scratched me,” but no scratches were found. Deputy James Monahan arrested DeRoche on the spot. Johanna, informed by DeRoche with the words “Mrs. Treloar, I have killed your husband!” rushed to the scene, finding Treloar dead in a pool of blood.

Immediate Aftermath: Arrest, Escape, and Recapture

DeRoche was charged with murder and jailed in Bodie around 2:00 a.m. on January 14. However, Deputy Joe Farnsworth, who was intoxicated, suggested moving him to Farnsworth’s room at the Standard boarding house for safety from a potential lynch mob. Constable John Kirgan and Deputy Constable Sam Williamson agreed, and Farnsworth shackled DeRoche there before falling into a drunken sleep, described by the Daily Free Press (January 15, 1881) as “the profound sleep of the inebriated.” By 8:00 a.m., DeRoche had escaped, possibly after Farnsworth was bribed with $1,000 (though Farnsworth denied it). DeRoche fled down Goat Ranch Road to a wood ranch about eight miles away.

A coroner’s inquest began shortly after noon on January 14, with Alexander and Butler testifying to the unprovoked shooting. On January 16, the jury ruled it a “willful and premeditated murder,” criticizing Kirgan for “gross neglect of duty” and Farnsworth for being “criminally careless.” Public outrage boiled over, with the Daily Free Press warning that Farnsworth “must produce the murderer or suffer the consequences.” The Bodie 601, comprising about 200 organized men, searched Bodie and interrogated DeRoche’s French-Canadian associates, including one named DeGerro, who revealed his hiding spot. On January 17, 1881, vigilantes captured DeRoche at the ranch, where he claimed the gun discharged accidentally during a struggle with Treloar and that Farnsworth had advised him to flee.

The Lynching: Vigilante Justice by the Bodie 601

DeRoche was returned to Bodie jail, but the 601 acted swiftly. Between 1:30 and 2:00 a.m. on January 24, 1881, about 200 masked and unmasked men, armed with shotguns, marched to the jail and demanded his release. Jailer Kirgan complied, and the mob removed DeRoche. They marched him to Webber’s blacksmith shop, relocating a gallows frame (used for raising wagons) to the corner of Main and Lowe Streets—the exact site of the murder. Dressed in light-colored pants, a colored calico shirt, and a canvas coat, DeRoche had his hands and legs tied. Asked if he had anything to say, he replied, “I have nothing to say only O God.” He was hanged, dying immediately from strangulation. A note pinned to his body read: “All others take warning. Let no one cut him down. Bodie 601.” The lynching was described in The Bodie Free Press as “awful and impressive,” with attorney Pat Reddy unsuccessfully offering $100 for participants to reveal their names.

Impact on Bodie and Legacy

The Treloar shooting and DeRoche’s lynching reinforced Bodie’s image as a town where justice was often swift and unofficial, especially amid perceived failures in law enforcement like Farnsworth’s negligence. It deterred potential criminals, as the 601’s actions served as a stark warning, and highlighted social tensions in mining camps, including infidelity and ethnic divisions (e.g., targeting French-Canadians). Treloar was buried on January 13 or shortly after by the fire department and miners’ union, though exact dates vary slightly in accounts. Johanna likely claimed the insurance policy, but her fate is unclear. The event faded as Bodie declined in the 1880s due to depleting gold, but it endures in ghost town lore, preserved at Bodie State Historic Park. Today, the site of the shooting and lynching remains a point of interest, symbolizing the Wild West’s brutal frontier justice.

Standard Mine Magazine Explosion – July 14, 1879

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A vintage photo of the Standard Mill in Bodie as it appeared sometime during the 1980s. Photo by Paul Wight
A vintage photo of the Standard Mill in Bodie as it appeared sometime during the 1980s. Photo by Paul Wight

Bodie, California, emerged as a bustling gold mining town in the late 1870s, located in Mono County in the eastern Sierra Nevada mountains. Discovered in 1859 by William S. Bodey (often misspelled as “Body”), the town experienced a significant boom starting around 1876 with rich gold discoveries, particularly at the Standard Mine operated by the Standard Consolidated Mining Company. By 1879, Bodie’s population had swelled to approximately 7,000 to 10,000 residents, making it one of the largest and most notorious mining camps in California. The town was known for its rough-and-tumble atmosphere, with saloons, gambling halls, and frequent violence, but its economy revolved around gold extraction. Mines like the Standard relied heavily on explosives, including “giant powder” (a dynamite-like substance based on nitroglycerin), stored in magazines near the works for blasting operations. This set the stage for one of the town’s most tragic disasters: the explosion at the Standard Mine’s powder magazine.

The Explosion: Date, Time, and Description

The explosion occurred on Thursday, July 10, 1879, at approximately 4:00 PM (though some accounts place it closer to 8:00 PM). It was not an underground mine blast but rather the detonation of the powder magazine located on the hillside near the Standard Mine works, about a mile from the main town of Bodie. The magazine contained an estimated three to five tons of giant powder cartridges, used for blasting in the mine. A massive cloud of smoke rose from the site, followed by a deafening roar and a shockwave that resembled a violent earthquake. The blast was felt as far as 20-25 miles away in Bridgeport, California, and it vaporized the magazine, leaving a large crater in its place. Nearby structures, including the old Standard hoisting works and the Summit Mine building (about 400 feet away), were demolished or set ablaze. Fires broke out in the timbering of the old incline but were quickly extinguished by responders. The shockwave shattered windows, blew down houses, and extinguished lights throughout Bodie, causing widespread panic as residents rushed to the scene amid cries of alarm and searches for loved ones.

Miners working underground in the Standard Mine at the time—numbering around 100—escaped unharmed. They were initially unaware of the surface explosion due to the mine’s connecting drifts, which allowed smoke and gases to dissipate quickly, preventing suffocation. The new shaft and hoisting works, as well as the mill, remained operational, allowing mining activities to resume without major interruption.

Known Causes

The exact cause of the explosion remains a mystery, as the magazine was obliterated, and key witnesses were killed. Contemporary accounts speculated that it might have been accidental, possibly triggered by William O’Brien, the man in charge of the magazine, who was last seen heading there with Charles Malloy to retrieve fuse materials. One theory suggested O’Brien may have dropped a blasting cap, igniting the powder. No evidence of foul play or sabotage was reported, and miners in Bodie described it as an inexplicable accident. The use of giant powder, while effective for mining, was inherently dangerous due to its sensitivity to shock and friction. In the aftermath, the incident led to changes in powder storage practices in Bodie to improve safety, such as more isolated magazines and stricter handling protocols.

Casualties: Deaths and Injuries

The explosion claimed between 6 and 10 lives, with discrepancies in counts likely due to unidentified remains and delayed reports of fatalities. Over 40 people were injured, many severely, though most were expected to recover. The victims were primarily surface workers, residents in nearby cabins, and passersby, including some women and children buried under debris. The Miners’ Union Hall in Bodie was hastily converted into a makeshift hospital, where fraternal organizations like the Masons and Odd Fellows assisted in caring for the wounded. The scene was described as heart-rending, with the hall crowded by the dead, dying, and grieving relatives.

Known Deaths

Accounts vary slightly in names and spellings, but the following individuals were reported killed:

  • Frank Fiele (or Fyde)
  • Thomas Flavin (or Flaherty)
  • Hugh H. McMillan
  • William O’Brien (magazine keeper, body not recovered)
  • Charles Malloy (or Malley, body not recovered)
  • John McCarty (or McCarthy)
  • Additional unidentified victims, including mutilated remains and possibly a Chinese worker buried under ruins (bringing some tallies to 10).

Known Injuries

Injuries ranged from fractures and lacerations to lost limbs, eyes, and internal damage. Notable wounded individuals included:

  • William Hedges (engineer at the Summit Mine: arm and leg broken, head badly injured)
  • Hugh McMillan (second individual with this name: leg broken, internal injuries; later died, possibly contributing to higher death counts)
  • Richard Palmer (arm broken, body disfigured)
  • Jack Dempsey (cut about the head, internal injuries)
  • H. H. Herncast (or Hemsast: shoulder fractured)
  • Daniel McDonald (lost one eye, other injuries)
  • Alexander McGregor (badly bruised)
  • J. C. Shreves (terribly cut about head and face)
  • Thomas Murphy (arm fractured, eyes blown out, skull fractured; not expected to recover)
  • John Hickey (brother of foreman: badly hurt)
  • James Hickey (foreman of Standard Mine: foot and body severely injured)
  • Mrs. McKinney and her child (buried in ruins, severely injured but extricated alive and expected to recover)
  • Mrs. Shay (severely injured)
  • Mrs. Snead (slightly injured)
  • Thomas Gill (face nearly blown off)
  • Sullivan (engineer: both eyes blown out, skull fractured; not expected to recover)
  • Mr. and Mrs. Chaff (slightly wounded)
  • D. Pierce (slightly wounded)
  • Mr. Pyle (badly hurt in the Standard boarding-house)
  • John McMillan (buried in cabin, rescued with slight injuries)

A coroner’s jury was impaneled to investigate, but no definitive conclusions on causes or additional victims were detailed in surviving reports.

Impact on the Town and Mining Operations

The explosion had immediate and lasting effects on Bodie, though the town’s resilience allowed it to rebound quickly. Physically, it destroyed the old Standard hoisting works, the Summit Mine building, and several nearby cabins, boarding houses, and restaurants (including those at the McClinton, Bodie, Dudley, Jupiter, Tioga, Bechtel, and old Bodie mines, which suffered broken doors and windows). Damage estimates were initially overestimated, but the blast shattered glass and structural integrity across the town, with boulders and debris raining down on structures up to 2,000 feet away. The new Standard shaft and mill escaped serious harm, enabling operations to continue and preventing a broader economic collapse.

Socially, the disaster heightened community bonds, as residents rallied to aid victims, and it underscored the perils of mining life in Bodie. It prompted safety reforms in explosive storage, reducing the risk of similar incidents. Economically, Bodie was at its peak in 1879-1880, with the Standard Mine producing richly, so the explosion did not halt the boom—production actually increased in subsequent years. However, it contributed to Bodie’s reputation as a dangerous place, alongside its infamous violence and later fires (such as those in 1886 and 1892). The event faded into local lore as Bodie declined in the 1880s due to depleting ore, eventually becoming a ghost town preserved as Bodie State Historic Park today.

Bill Keys Gunfight – May 11, 1943

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In the desolate expanse of California’s Mojave Desert, a violent clash unfolded on May 11, 1943, that would echo through the history of Joshua Tree National Park. The incident, known as the Bill Keys shootout, pitted William F. “Bill” Keys, a rugged homesteader and miner, against his neighbor, Worth Bagley, in a deadly confrontation rooted in a bitter land dispute. This account draws from historical records and firsthand sources to recount the events leading to the shootout, the incident itself, and its lasting impact.

Background: Bill Keys and the Desert Queen Ranch

Bill Keys was a stoic figure, shaped by the harsh realities of desert life. Born in either Nebraska or Russia—accounts vary—he arrived in the Joshua Tree area around 1910. After working as a ranch hand for Walter Scott in the Mojave and later managing the Desert Queen Mine, Keys acquired land through the Homestead Act when the mine closed in 1917. He named his property the Desert Queen Ranch, where he built a life with his wife, Frances, raising seven children, three of whom tragically died in early childhood. Keys was a self-reliant man, constructing a stamp mill, digging wells, and cultivating orchards and livestock in an environment that demanded relentless perseverance. His life was one of grit, ingenuity, and survival in an unforgiving landscape.

Worth Bagley, a former Los Angeles deputy sheriff, entered the scene in 1938. Described in some accounts as erratic or possibly mentally unstable, Bagley settled near Keys’ ranch, and tensions soon arose. The core of their conflict centered on a dirt road—variously called Quail Wash or Quail Springs Historic Trail—that Keys had used for decades to access his Wall Street Mill. Bagley claimed the road crossed his property and demanded Keys stop using it, escalating their feud with a threatening cardboard sign planted in the road: “KEYS, THIS IS MY LAST WARNING. STAY OFF MY PROPERTY.”

The establishment of Joshua Tree National Monument in 1936 added further strain. The monument’s boundaries enveloped Keys’ ranch, restricting his cattle grazing and fueling his resentment toward federal oversight. Bagley, too, clashed with Keys over property rights, and their disputes—whether over the road, water, or grazing land—grew increasingly volatile. By 1943, the stage was set for a confrontation that reflected the lingering lawlessness of the Old West.

The Shootout: May 11, 1943

William F. Keys reenacts the scene of the fatal shooting of Worth Bagley - Photo NPS
William F. Keys reenacts the scene of the fatal shooting of Worth Bagley – Photo NPS

On the morning of May 11, 1943, Bill Keys drove along the familiar dirt road toward his Wall Street Mill. As he approached the sign erected by Bagley, he stopped his car, acutely aware of the threat’s gravity. Keys, a seasoned desert dweller whose survival had long depended on keen observation, surveyed the surrounding terrain. According to Keys’ account, Bagley ambushed him, emerging from cover and opening fire. Keys, armed and prepared, returned fire in self-defense, fatally shooting Bagley. The exchange was swift, a brutal culmination of years of animosity.

Keys maintained that he acted to protect his life, but the legal system viewed the incident differently. Arrested and charged with murder, Keys faced a trial that many considered unjust. The prosecution painted him as the aggressor, and a jury convicted him of manslaughter, sentencing him to ten years in San Quentin State Penitentiary. The trial was marred by controversy, with some accounts suggesting bias against Keys, a solitary desert figure, in favor of Bagley, a former lawman.

Trail Map

Aftermath and Redemption

While incarcerated, Keys’ resilience and sharp mind—honed by years of navigating the desert’s challenges—kept him focused. His wife, Frances, sought help from Erle Stanley Gardner, a Ventura-based attorney and author of the Perry Mason novels, who was drawn to the desert and had befriended the Keys family during his visits to Joshua Tree. Gardner, through his Court of Last Resort, investigated Keys’ case, uncovering evidence of self-defense and procedural flaws in the trial. His advocacy, combined with growing public support, led to Keys’ parole after five years and a full pardon in 1956.

Upon his release, Keys returned to the Desert Queen Ranch, where he lived quietly until his death in 1969. In a defiant act of remembrance, he erected a stone marker at the site of the shootout, inscribed: “Here is where Worth Bagley bit the dust at the hand of W.F. Keys, May 11, 1943.” The original marker, vandalized in 2014, was replaced with a steel replica by the National Park Service, preserving the site’s historical significance along the Wall Street Mill Trail.

Legacy and Reflection

The Bill Keys shootout is a stark reminder of the rugged individualism and simmering tensions that defined life in the American West, even into the mid-20th century. It reflects not only a personal feud but also broader conflicts over land, resources, and autonomy in a region increasingly shaped by federal control. Keys’ story, as detailed in Art Kidwell’s Ambush: The Story of Bill Keys, challenges the romanticized narrative of the West, revealing a world where survival often hinged on quick decisions and deadly force.

Today, Joshua Tree National Park preserves the site as a tourist attraction, with rangers leading tours of the Desert Queen Ranch and recounting Keys’ tale. The shootout, though a footnote in the broader sweep of American history, remains a poignant chapter in the park’s cultural landscape, embodying the harsh realities and enduring spirit of those who carved out lives in the desert.

The Worth Bagley Stone

The Worth Bagley Stone is a historical marker located in Joshua Tree National Park, San Bernardino County, California, along the Wall Street Mill Trail, approximately 0.3 miles from the trailhead. The original marker was a granite stone, measuring approximately 78 cm high, 46 cm wide, and 12 cm thick, inscribed with the text: “Here is where Worth Bagly [sic] bit the dust at the hand of W.F. Keys, May 11, 1943.” The misspelling of “Bagley” as “Bagly” is notable on the marker. This stone was carved and erected by William F. (Bill) Keys to commemorate a deadly shootout between himself and Worth Bagley, a former Los Angeles deputy sheriff, over a land and water access dispute. Due to vandalism, including green paint defacement and the stone being broken off at its base in 2014, the original was removed by the National Park Service for safekeeping in the park’s museum. In February 2019, a replica made of ¾-inch steel was installed at the original site, crafted by artist Rebecca Lowry of JTLab in collaboration with park staff, Vagabond Welding, and Keys’ descendants. The replica closely mirrors the original’s design and lettering, ensuring the historical event remains marked for visitors.

History

The Worth Bagley Stone marks the site of a fatal confrontation on May 11, 1943, between Bill Keys, a rancher and miner who owned the Desert Queen Ranch and Wall Street Mill, and his neighbor, Worth Bagley. The two had a contentious relationship, primarily due to a dispute over access to a road leading to the Wall Street Mill, which Bagley claimed crossed his property. Bagley, known for his volatile temperament and history of conflict, had reportedly shot Keys’ cattle and posted a warning sign threatening Keys to stay off his land. On the day of the incident, Keys claimed Bagley ambushed him with a revolver along the road. Bagley fired and missed, and Keys returned fire with his rifle, killing Bagley. Keys turned himself in to authorities the same day.

In the subsequent trial, Keys was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to ten years in San Quentin State Prison, despite his self-defense claim. Evidence tampering and questionable expert testimony may have influenced the verdict. While in prison, Keys educated himself in the library, and his case gained attention from Erle Stanley Gardner, the creator of Perry Mason, who advocated for his release. Keys was paroled in 1948 after serving five years and received a full pardon in 1956. Upon returning to his Desert Queen Ranch, Keys carved and placed the granite marker at the shootout site in the 1950s to memorialize the event.

The stone stood as a testament to the rugged, lawless spirit of the desert and Keys’ determination to defend his rights, as he once stated, “If the law won’t uphold me, I’ll uphold myself.” However, by 2014, vandalism had damaged the marker, prompting its removal for preservation. The National Park Service, recognizing its historical significance, commissioned the steel replica to maintain the site’s historical narrative. The Worth Bagley Stone remains a poignant reminder of the violent disputes that shaped the history of Joshua Tree National Park, then known as Joshua Tree National Monument, and is a point of interest for hikers and history enthusiasts on the Wall Street Mill Trail.

Sources

  • Worth Bagley Stone Historical Marker, www.hmdb.org
  • People of the Desert: Joshua Tree National Park Exhibit, www.nps.gov
  • Marker Pinpoints 1943 Shootout At Joshua Tree National Park, www.nationalparkstraveler.org
  • Worth Bagley, Cali49, www.cali49.com
  • Historical Highlight: Shootout at the Wall Street Mill, z1077fm.com
  • Joshua Tree National Park Replaces Historic Marker, www.nps.gov
  • How Bill Keys Was Freed by the Court of Last Resort, www.thedesertway.com

The Battle of Wingate Pass – February 26, 1906

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The Battle of Wingate pass as reports by Los Angeles herald (Los Angeles [Calif.]), March 21, 1906
The Battle of Wingate pass as reports by Los Angeles herald (Los Angeles [Calif.]), March 21, 1906

The so-called “Battle” of Wingate Pass, which occurred on February 26, 1906, in the rugged terrain of Death Valley, California, was not a genuine conflict but a staged hoax orchestrated by the infamous con artist Walter Edward Perry Scott, better known as “Death Valley Scotty.” This incident stemmed from Scotty’s elaborate schemes to defraud investors by promoting nonexistent gold mines in the desert. What followed the event was a chaotic sequence of retreats, media scrutiny, arrests, lawsuits, and jurisdictional disputes that exposed the fraud and led to short-lived legal repercussions. Below is a detailed chronological account of the events leading up to the “battle,” the incident itself, and the immediate aftermath, with a focus on the court actions that unfolded in the weeks and months following.

Background on Death Valley Scotty

Walter Scott (1872 - 1954)
Walter Scott (1872 – 1954)

Walter Edward Perry Scott (1872–1954), famously dubbed “Death Valley Scotty,” was born in Cynthiana, Kentucky, and rose to prominence as one of the American West’s most colorful con artists. Scotty began his career as a performer in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show in the 1890s, where he honed his skills in showmanship and tall tales. By the early 1900s, he had relocated to California and began promoting himself as a wealthy gold prospector with secret mines in Death Valley, often flashing rolls of cash (later revealed to be “upholstered” with newspaper) to lure investors. His schemes involved “grubstakers”—investors who funded his expeditions in exchange for shares in supposed riches. Scotty’s charisma and exaggerated stories attracted figures like Chicago businessmen Albert M. Johnson and Edward A. Shedd, who invested $2,500 for a two-thirds stake in his fictional mine. However, as investors demanded proof, Scotty’s deceptions escalated, leading to elaborate hoaxes to maintain the illusion. His persona became synonymous with Death Valley, and he later lived at the opulent Scotty’s Castle (built by Johnson), perpetuating myths of hidden wealth until his death.

Events Leading Up to the “Battle”

Newspaper cartoon of "Death Valley Scotty", around 1905
Newspaper cartoon of “Death Valley Scotty”, around 1905

By early 1906, Scotty’s investors were growing suspicious. New England mining promoter A.Y. Pearl had introduced Scotty to Eastern bankers and businessmen eager to inspect his claimed gold properties in Death Valley. They insisted on an evaluation by Daniel E. Owen, a reputable Boston mining engineer based in Nevada. Fearing exposure—since Scotty had no real mine—he persuaded his associate Bill Keys (a prospector and half-Cherokee Indian) to allow the group to view Keys’ modest Desert Hound Mine as a stand-in. Still anxious that Owen would deem it unworthy, Scotty hatched a plan for a staged ambush to make the area seem too dangerous for further exploration.

On February 23, 1906, the party departed from Daggett, California, equipped with two wagons, mules, horses, provisions, and whiskey. The group included Scotty, Owen, Pearl, Albert M. Johnson (president of the National Life Insurance Company of Chicago), Scotty’s brothers Bill and Warner Scott, Bill Keys, A.W. DeLyle St. Clair (a Los Angeles miner), and Jack Brody (a local desert character). Keys and Brody were sent ahead to prepare the ambush, possibly with help from an Indian named Bob Belt. The party camped at Granite Wells on February 24 and proceeded toward Lone Willow Spring the next day, leaving Bill Scott behind to guard extra animals.

Description of the “Battle”

The hoax unfolded on February 25, 1906, as the group approached Wingate Pass near Dry Lake. Shots rang out from behind stone breastworks (five of which still exist today as historical remnants), simulating an attack by claim jumpers or bandits. An ex-deputy sheriff from Goldfield, Nevada, reported being ambushed earlier, causing his pack train to stampede, adding to the chaos. Scotty fired two warning shots, startling the mules and tipping Owen from his wagon. Then, a rifle shot from the hidden assailants struck Warner Scott in the groin, an accidental injury likely due to the ambushers’ drunkenness (possibly Bob Belt). Scotty galloped toward the “attackers,” yelling for them to stop, which inadvertently exposed the ruse to the suspicious Owen.

The “battle” was brief and one-sided, with no return fire from the party. Panic ensued, and the group retreated hastily to Daggett, abandoning provisions in the desert. Warner was rushed to Los Angeles for medical treatment, where he survived after surgery. The staged nature became evident through Scotty’s over-the-top reaction and the lack of pursuit by the “ambushers.” The event involved real bullets, turning a planned scare tactic into a near-tragedy due to poor execution.

Death Valley Scotty and the Johnsons
Death Valley Scotty and the Johnsons

Immediate Events Following the “Battle” (Late February to March 1906)

The group’s return to civilization sparked immediate chaos. Los Angeles newspapers sensationalized the story, with Pearl initially claiming it was a genuine fight against four outlaws who were “claim jumpers” guarding Scotty’s mine. However, Owen, suspecting foul play, reported the true details to the San Bernardino County sheriff and the press, asserting that Scotty had orchestrated the ambush in an attempt to kill him and cover up the fraud. This led to a public unraveling of the hoax, as investors like Johnson realized they had been duped—though Johnson would later reconcile with Scotty and fund the construction of Scotty’s Castle in Death Valley.

The sheriff’s investigation uncovered incriminating evidence: abandoned provisions at Scotty’s “Camp Holdout” and a witness statement from the Nevada lawman who spotted Keys fleeing the scene. Media coverage intensified, portraying Scotty as a swindler and the “battle” as a farce. Scotty, ever the showman, initially denied involvement but soon faced mounting pressure.

Court Actions and Legal Proceedings (March to April 1906)

The legal fallout began swiftly. On March 14, 1906, just over two weeks after the incident, the San Bernardino County District Attorney issued arrest warrants for Scotty, Bill Keys, and Jack Brody on charges of assault with a deadly weapon. Scotty was arrested in Seattle on March 24 and released on $500 bail. He was rearrested two days later on March 26 but again released. On April 7, Scotty pleaded not guilty to two counts of assault in San Bernardino County Court and was freed on $2,000 bail.

Meanwhile, Warner Scott, seeking compensation for his injury, filed a civil lawsuit on or around April 1906 in Los Angeles County Court against Walter Scott, Bill Scott, Bill Keys, A.Y. Pearl, and a “John Doe” (likely Brody or another accomplice). The suit demanded $152,000 in damages for his wounds and related suffering.

Keys was apprehended on April 10 at Ballarat, a mining camp near Death Valley, and pleaded not guilty before being jailed in San Bernardino. On April 13, Scotty, Pearl, and Bill Scott were arrested once more and briefly jailed in San Bernardino. However, they were released the next day after a successful habeas corpus petition challenged their detention.

The cases collapsed on April 27, 1906, when all criminal charges were dismissed by the San Bernardino County Court due to a jurisdictional error: the “battle” had occurred in Inyo County, not San Bernardino County. Inyo County authorities declined to pursue the matter, possibly due to lack of evidence or interest. Scotty later boasted that he had moved a county boundary marker to create this confusion, though this claim remains unverified.

Warner eventually agreed to drop his damage suit on the condition that Scotty pay over $1,000 in medical bills owed to Dr. C.W. Lawton in Los Angeles. Scotty consented but never paid, leading to a default judgment against him—though he had no attachable assets at the time. This unresolved debt would resurface years later, culminating in Scotty’s 1912 contempt-of-court jailing and public confession to the hoax, but the immediate 1906 proceedings ended without convictions.

Broader Implications and Legacy

The “Battle” of Wingate Pass marked a turning point in Scotty’s career, exposing his deceptions to a wider audience and costing him most investors—except Johnson, who ironically became his lifelong patron. The event highlighted the lawlessness of the California desert frontier, where jurisdictional ambiguities often allowed scams to evade justice. While no one was ultimately prosecuted in 1906, the hoax cemented Scotty’s legend as a colorful charlatan, and Wingate Pass remains a footnote in Death Valley lore.

Participants of the Battle

Albert Mussey Johnson

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The Disappearance of Glen and Bessie Hyde

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In the autumn of 1928, newlyweds Glen and Bessie Hyde embarked on an ambitious honeymoon adventure, aiming to navigate the treacherous rapids of the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. Their goal was twofold: to set a speed record for the journey and to make Bessie the first documented woman to complete the perilous trip. Yet, the couple vanished without a trace, leaving behind a mystery that has captivated historians, adventurers, and storytellers for nearly a century.

Hyde Honeymoon Scow as found by searchers, Near Diamond Creek. 1928. Photo by NPS
Hyde Honeymoon Scow as found by searchers, Near Diamond Creek. 1928. Photo by NPS

The Adventurous Newlyweds

Glen Rollin Hyde, born December 9, 1898, was a farmer from Twin Falls, Idaho, with a passion for river running. He had experience navigating the Salmon and Snake Rivers in Idaho alongside an experienced river runner, “Cap” Guleke, in 1926, and had undertaken a six-month canoe trip through British Columbia and the Pacific Northwest in 1919. Bessie Louise Haley, born December 29, 1905, in Parkersburg, West Virginia, was a bohemian artist and divorcee with a flair for theater and poetry. The couple met in 1927 aboard a passenger ship bound for Los Angeles and married on April 10, 1928, just one day after Bessie’s divorce from her first husband was finalized.

Inspired by the era’s fascination with daring feats—think Charles Lindbergh’s transatlantic flight or George Mallory’s Everest expedition—the Hydes saw their journey as a path to fame and fortune. Glen crafted a 20-foot wooden sweep scow, named “Rain-in-the-Face,” a flat-bottomed vessel designed for river travel but ill-suited for the Grand Canyon’s violent rapids. Bessie, despite her lack of river-running experience, embraced the adventure, hoping to cement her place in history.

The Journey Begins

On October 20, 1928, the Hydes launched their scow from Green River, Utah, embarking on a journey down the Green and Colorado Rivers toward Needles, California. The couple planned to complete the trip in record time, with Bessie documenting their progress in a journal and with a camera. Their early journey was largely successful, navigating major rapids through Labyrinth, Stillwater, and Cataract Canyons without significant incident, though Glen had once fallen out of the boat, underscoring the river’s dangers.

By mid-November, the Hydes had reached the Grand Canyon, roughly halfway through their journey. On November 15, they hiked the Bright Angel Trail to the South Rim to restock supplies at Grand Canyon Village. There, they visited the studio of famed photographer Emery Kolb, a veteran river runner who had navigated the Colorado twice. Kolb noted Bessie’s apparent exhaustion and apprehension, recalling her comment to his young daughter about her dress: “I wonder if I shall ever wear pretty shoes again.” Kolb offered the couple life jackets and even a place to stay for the winter, but Glen, determined to maintain their schedule, declined both.

The Hydes were last seen on November 18, 1928, as they departed from Hermit Rapid, accompanied briefly by Adolph G. Sutro, a photographer who rode with them for a day before hiking out at Hermit Creek. Sutro may have been the last person to see them alive.

The Disappearance

The Hydes were expected to arrive in Needles by December 6, 1928, but they never appeared. Alarmed, Glen’s father, Rollin Hyde, initiated a search before the couple was officially overdue. On December 19, a search plane spotted their scow near river mile 237, upright and intact, with supplies securely strapped in. Emery Kolb and his brother Ellsworth joined the search, recovering the boat, which contained Bessie’s journal, a camera, and other belongings. The journal’s final entry, dated November 30, indicated the couple had reached Diamond Creek, near river mile 226, and had cleared the 231 Mile Rapid. A photograph from the camera, likely taken around November 27 near river mile 165, provided the last visual evidence of their journey.

HYDE HONEYMOON SCOW AS FOUND BY SEARCHERS, NEAR DIAMOND CREEK. 1928.

Despite extensive searches, no trace of Glen or Bessie was found. The pristine condition of the boat, with no signs of capsizing or damage, deepened the mystery. Historian Otis R. Marston, a noted Colorado River expert, suggested the couple likely perished in the heavy rapids near mile 232, where submerged granite rocks had damaged or capsized numerous boats. Yet, the absence of bodies or wreckage left room for speculation.

Theories and Legends

The Hydes’ disappearance sparked a flurry of theories, fueled by the romantic allure of their honeymoon adventure and the lack of conclusive evidence. The most straightforward explanation, supported by Marston and others, is that the couple drowned after their scow hit treacherous rapids, their bodies swept away by the river’s currents. The absence of life jackets and the unwieldy nature of their homemade scow lend credence to this theory.

However, alternative narratives have persisted. Some speculated that Bessie, weary of the journey and possibly facing an abusive husband, killed Glen and escaped the canyon. This theory gained traction in 1971 when an elderly woman on a commercial rafting trip claimed to be Bessie, alleging she had stabbed Glen during a quarrel and hiked out to start a new life. She later recanted, admitting the story was fabricated, but the tale lingered.

Another theory linked Bessie to Georgie Clark, a famed river runner who died in 1992. After Clark’s death, friends found a copy of the Hydes’ marriage certificate and a pistol among her possessions, and her birth name was revealed to be Bessie DeRoss. However, Clark’s well-documented life, including her marriage and childbirth in 1928, disproves this connection.

In 1976, skeletal remains with a bullet hole in the skull were discovered on Emery Kolb’s property, raising suspicions of foul play. Some theorized Kolb, who had interacted with the Hydes, might have been involved. Forensic analysis later determined the remains belonged to a younger man who likely died in the 1970s, ruling out a connection to Glen.

A Lasting Mystery

The disappearance of Glen and Bessie Hyde remains one of the Grand Canyon’s most enduring enigmas. Their story has inspired books, such as Brad Dimock’s Sunk Without a Sound, a novel by Lisa Michaels, and episodes of Unsolved Mysteries and various podcasts. The couple’s ambition, the haunting remark about “pretty shoes,” and the pristine state of their abandoned scow continue to captivate imaginations.

Whether they succumbed to the river’s fury, met with foul play, or orchestrated an escape, the fate of Glen and Bessie Hyde remains unknown. Their tale is a poignant reminder of the Grand Canyon’s beauty and danger, a place where nature can swallow even the boldest adventurers without a trace. As river runners recount their story around campfires, the Hydes’ legacy endures as a haunting chapter in the annals of American exploration.