Skip to main content
opinion

Jesse James, 1882: The practice of displaying photographs of dead outlaws goes back to the days of the Old WestLibrary of Congress

From the moment President Barack Obama made the dramatic announcement that U.S. Navy Seals had killed arch-terrorist Osama bin Laden in his Pakistani hideout, there has been a demand that photographs of the body be made public. To date, Mr. Obama has refused to do so. According to reports, the al-Qaeda leader was shot in the head twice. Mr. Obama says the photos are gruesome and could be inflammatory. However, there are some who believe that the pictures should be released as proof that Mr. bin Laden is dead - and as a warning to others who would seek to harm the United States.

The practice of displaying photographs of slain criminals goes back to the days of the Old West. It was a carryover from a time when the bodies of executed criminals were hanged in chains in a public place as a deterrent to would-be felons. The invention of the camera meant that the body of a dead outlaw could be seen by many more people than a corpse dangling from a gibbet.

Many a desperado wound up getting his picture in the papers in a manner he'd prefer to have avoided: lying on an undertaker's bench with his shirt off to reveal fatal bullet holes. Train robbers Charlie Pierce, George (Bittercreek) Newcomb and their boss Bill Doolin all received this treatment. The bodies of some slain bandits, like Ned Christie and Bill Brazleton, were propped up with their guns in their hands for full effect. In a group photo, the bodies of four members of the Dalton gang lay in an untidy heap, minutes after they were shot down during a botched bank robbery. On those all-too-frequent occasions when an angry mob would drag a captured outlaw out of jail and lynch him, photographers would record the event for posterity.

The public distribution of photographs of bullet-riddled criminals continued well into the 20th century. In the 1930s, the corpses of such notorious bank robbers as John Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson and Bonnie and Clyde were all photographed while they lay in morgues. The pictures received wide distribution in magazines.

Law-enforcement officials certainly hoped that sordid images of dead criminals would help deter others, especially the young, from taking the outlaw trail. But that wasn't the only motivation behind the photographs and the wide publicity they received. When a lawman successfully ran a fugitive to ground and killed him, he wanted a trophy picture, just as he would if he shot a bear or caught a record-sized trout. In many of the pictures, a sheriff and the members of his posse are grouped around the recently deceased bandit, proudly displaying the guns that ended a criminal career. The picture was something they could show their grandchildren, and it came in handy for any of them who decided to run for public office.

In some instances, the lawmen knew they were dealing with something more than just an individual criminal; they were up against a legend. Such was the case with Jesse James, perhaps the most celebrated of all the Old West bandit leaders. James had eluded the law for 16 years, and it seemed as though he would never be brought to justice. Tall tales of his exploits had made him into a Robin Hood figure. When it was suddenly announced in April of 1882 that Jesse James was dead, murdered by one of his own gang members, people refused to believe it. A picture of James's body was widely circulated. Lawmen not only wanted the public to realize that James was in fact dead, they also wanted to convey the message that sooner or later even a larger-than-life desperado like Jesse James had got his just desserts. No doubt the American government wants the same message understood regarding Mr. bin Laden. But is the publication of a gruesome photograph really necessary? Do we need it as proof that Osama bin Laden is dead, or just to satisfy our morbid curiosity?

Edward Butts is the author of Murder: Twelve True Stories of Homicide in Canada .

Interact with The Globe