'It's all here and it's all true': Early-day Butte journalists had a flair for words

Caught loitering in Butte’s red light district?  Anonymity was not plausible, as your antics would become fodder for Butte readers.

Men caught abusing their wives were outed in print, in great detail, as well.

It was a challenging profession for Butte’s journalists. To compete, reporters had to expand their vocabulary and have a flair for words.

The reporters, with their front-row seats to Butte’s history, did not disappoint.

The centuries-old adage “the pen is mightier than the sword” was as true in 1876 as it is now. Sensationalism was commonplace in late-19th century newspapers, and it filtered into the early 20th century.

Back then, the “pen” could wield some shocking accounts, with an equally graphic headline to lure readers into the story. Bending the facts was not unheard of either.

In celebration of The Montana Standard’s 150^th anniversary, some of those “rough” drafts into Butte’s past are featured below.

A Wife Whipper

1879

The Butte Miner headline of Jan. 15, 1879, certainly cut to the chase — A Wife Whipper.

The article was about a Butte pioneer, Chasteen Humphrey, who “has long been in the habit of indulging in the pastime of wife whipping, a luxury denied ordinary citizens.”

It appeared, by that comment, that the writer sympathized with Humphrey, who had been arrested. That was not the case.

The writer concluded the story by informing readers that “the prisoner was taken down to Deer Lodge where he now lies in durance vile.”

Mangled humanity

1895

Butte had three daily newspapers when the explosion of Jan. 15, 1895, occurred in the warehouse district that killed 58 men.

Described by The Anaconda Standard as "Butte’s most awful hour," it was the least graphic comment made by the newspaper.

“Blood and brains were spattered all about,” reported the Standard. “Here were legs and arms scattered around, and there were pieces of flesh and entrails. It was sickening.”

It went on to report that “rescuers pulled some of the bodies out still quivering, remnants of human beings still groaning, while legs and arms had been torn off. Shapeless trunks quivered and died in the arms of the living.”

“Mangled Bodies Everywhere” was a Butte Miner headline.

Not to be outdone, The Miner, too, went into lurid detail.

“Arms, legs and other fragments of human remains could be discovered in and about the ruins,” wrote a Miner reporter. “As soon as it gets clear enough to do so, the coroner will cause a search of the neighborhood to be made and the remnants of lifeless and mangled humanity will be collected.”

Heart of Montana

1895

Not sure all Montanans agreed with The Butte Inter Mountain’s description of Butte on Nov. 23, 1895. The editorial was not a doom-and-gloom piece. Instead, it waxed poetic about the mining camp.

“Butte is the great heart of Montana, sending forth its blood through arteries of trade to the remotest sections of the state,” wrote its editorial editor. “Statehood itself has come thus early because of the wonderful growth of Butte and the population it has helped sustain in the various industries, which flourish because of its existence.”

Mulligans vs. Mahoneys

1896

“Dublin Gulch cast its emerald glamour over the sordid precincts of the police court yesterday afternoon and wearied the soul of genial Judge Turner so that he crept a sadder and much harried man back into his private chamber,” reported The Butte Miner on Feb. 19, 1896.

That’s because the Mulligans and Mahoneys were once again at odds.

“It was all over the Mulligans and Mahoneys, who seem to have an affinity for fisticuffs and foul language,” wrote The Miner reporter.

The wearied judge’s sage advice was for “the families to get as far away from one another as providence and landmarks would permit.”

‘Two Bit Billy’

1898

A fixture at the jail, “Two Bit Billy” Parsons was in trouble once again on June 19, 1898. Apparently, Parsons had stolen a coat and then sold it to buy some whiskey.

“'Two Bit Billy' Parsons, who has come to be regarded as one of the fixtures at the county jail … sank below his accustomed level last night when he was arrested on a charge of petit larcency,” reported The Butte Miner.

In conclusion, the article stated that Parsons was “heartbroken over his arrest, for it had always been a matter of pride with him that he had never been arrested for anything more serious than vagrancy."

Brutal slayings

1899

Descriptive content was the norm when it came to reporting murders.

An unidentified man was found murdered near Rocker Road on Jan. 7, 1899, with the scene described as “horrifying beyond description.”

The Anaconda Standard reporter shared that “an examination by Coroner Jullien revealed that by some sharp instrument two terrible wounds had been inflicted in the forehead … both of which went clear through the skull and deep into the brain, while the back of the head on the left side showed a horrible job of butchery.”

Just over two years later, The Anaconda Standard reported yet another homicide.

“Grim Murder Stalks The Streets,” was its headline.

The victim was Steve Wells, who was murdered in his cabin.

“Last night’s tragic events would indicate that the city is amidst a reign of terror,” wrote a Standard reporter. “Bloodshed, robbery and murder, cold, cruel and wanton mark the crimson-stained chronicles of the day, and good people stand aghast at the appalling record of the night.”

‘Mickey the Greek’

1901

“A Character Gone” was The Anaconda Standard headline of Feb. 28, 1901.

That was how the paper described “Mickey the Greek,” who was not Greek but an Irish immigrant, Patrick McAtasney.

As eulogies go, it didn’t pull any punches.

According to The Anaconda Standard, “The passing away of Mickey the Greek removes a character that for years had entered in one way and another into the worldly history of Butte, its slums, its dark side. Mickey was no one’s enemy … Drink was the man’s only enemy. It killed him.”

High carnival

1902

On Oct. 12, 1902, James W. Kelley, editor of The Butte Inter Mountain, found himself in a difficult position. He wasn’t editing front-page news; instead, he was the subject of front-page news.

Kelley would be charged with the murder of local physician Dr. Henry Cayley. There was no question he committed the crime — he admitted it — but would he do the time?

The Butte Miner and The Anaconda Standard were relentless in its reporting of the murder. Not surprising, The Inter Mountain reported the crime as well, but without much of the salacious details.

Kelley, who was living with Madame Ruth La Bonta, had his suspicions of an affair between his partner and another man.

The Anaconda Standard reported that Kelley wanted to find out “with whom his mistress intended to hold high carnival during his absence.”

Hiding under the bed, Kelley got his answer after seeing Cayley and LaBonta scantily clad, and The Anaconda Standard reported that “desperate demon jealousy took possession of the defendant and dethroned his reason.”

Kelley shot the doctor, who lingered for 12 days before dying.

Six months later, Editor Kelley would be acquitted of the crime. La Bonta was released as well, but throughout the trial, she had been raked over the coals.

Described by prosecutors as a siren, the jury was told the fault lie solely with LaBonta, who enfolded the doctor “in her infamous serpentine coils, making him forget that he was married.”

In his closing arguments, the prosecutor told the jury that “had Mme. La Bonta been killed the loss would not have been great, but Dr. Cayley was a good man and did not deserve such a fate.”

Execution by hanging

1904

In the early morning hours of Feb. 22, 1904, James Martin was executed for the murder of John R. Williams.

“Rarely has a braver, cooler man died on the scaffold than James Martin, who was hanged in Butte this morning by Sheriff John J. Quinn, at the unearthly hour of 4:30 o’clock,” reported The Butte Inter Mountain. “It may be said with entire truth that Martin died ‘dead game.'"

The Butte Miner chose to have its front-page story of the execution all in caps.

“At 4:46 o’clock, the drop was sprung and James Martin was sent to his death as the legal penalty of the crime for which he was convicted,” reported The Miner. “As the trap dropped, Martin’s body stiffened, the capped head swung forward and the noose and knot did their deadly work of execution.”

Had it with Tim

1909

Butte’s law enforcement had their fill of Tim Lebeau.

The Butte Inter Mountain reported on Sept. 8, 1909, that the “notorious character of Butte” had been “driven out of the city by the local authorities for having too active participation in the administration of affairs in the redlight district.”

Egg-throwing teens

1916

It was not so much the story printed in The Butte Miner of April 29, 1916, that first caught readers’ eyes.

Instead, it was the headline, “High School Students Throw Eggs At Bulgin — Hen Fruit Greets Evangelist When He Starts Lecture on Sex Hygiene.”

The evangelist was E.J. Bulgin, a guest of the Silver Bow Ministerial Association, who was preparing to give a lecture to 225 male Butte High School students.

Interestingly, the school’s teenage girls were not allowed to attend.

One of the teenage boys threw an egg at the stage, hitting a man. The young audience was warned not to do it again, but did they listen? Absolutely not.

Several more eggs were thrown before the evangelist was finally able to preach to a less-than-enthusiastic crowd.

Demise of alcohol

1919

Prohibition and how it was reported is this story’s last installment.

Enacted in Montana on Jan. 1, 1919, the night before the “no booze” law took effect, reporters from The Butte Miner and The Anaconda Standard had a field day giving their individual takes on the demise of alcohol.

The newspapers’ headlines were particularly clever.

“Curtain Falls On John Barleycorn Career In Butte,” was The Anaconda Standard’s front-page headline. The Miner featured “Stroke Of 12 Tolls Death For Booze — Beautiful Funeral Service Is Held For King Alcohol In Butte.”

“Another stone has been placed upon the grave of old West,” wrote The Anaconda Standard. “Butte — one of the last frontiers and once typical of the wildest and wooliest — is now a prohibition town.”

The Butte Miner gave the event a more dramatic verse: “Those who have to a greater or less extent been embalmed in Butte for various periods of time, last night placed the corpse of King Alcohol, whose fluid has been responsible for much pleasure and some sorrow, in a grave lined with empty flasks of all descriptions and of differing monetary variations.”