Bandit robbed, died with no fear
His grave marker is simple: “Augustine Chacon. 1861-1902. He lived life without fear. He faced death without fear. Hombre muy bravo.”
Yet Chacon was — not to put too fine a point on it — not much more than a murderous bandit.
Although he has sometimes been described as a Robin Hood-like character, there’s not a shred of evidence to suggest he ever fought for social justice or gave as much as a peso to the poor.
But he was ruggedly good-looking, made several narrow escapes from the law and met his death with dignity.
From lesser things are legends made.
Chacon, sometimes known as “El Peludo” (translation: “the hairy”) for his thick black hair, was born in Sonora. Some accounts say he worked as a peace officer in the Sierra del Tigre region of northeastern Sonora for a time. But before long, he was on the other side of the law, rustling here and robbing there.
He came to Morenci in the 1880s and found work hauling wood and ore. During a dispute about his pay, Chacon killed not only his employer but four or five cowboys who had rushed to the scene.
Chacon and his gang earned a reputation that — probably — far exceeded their actions. For a time, just about any unsolved murder, robbery or rape committed in south-- Augustine Chacon, shown in an undated photo, had thick black hair that earned him the nickname “El Peludo” (Spanish for “the hairy”). eastern Arizona or northern Sonora was attributed to them. Still, even taking into account the rumors and exaggerations, Chacon and his gang may well have killed more than 50 people.
Chacon was sentenced to hang after a particularly heinous crime in 1895, during which he reportedly hacked a man to pieces with an ax. Jailed in Solomonville (now Solomon, a couple of miles east of Safford in southeastern Arizona), Chacon made an escape that sounds as if it came from the pages of a dime novel.
Accounts vary, and it’s entirely possible that details from two events have been conflated, but the main story goes something like this: A female admirer got a hacksaw blade to Chacon by hiding it in the binding of a large Bible. In the evenings, while Chacon sawed away, other prisoners played guitars and sang to cover the noise. Then, when the time was ripe, the same admirer lured the jailer away from the cells for an extended carnal encounter. When the guard returned to his post, of course, Chacon was long gone.
His inglorious career came to an end in 1902, when Burt Mossman, head of the Arizona Rangers, posed as a bandit and captured Chacon — quite illegally — in Mexico. Back in Solomonville, the bandit was held in a specially built steel cage.
With escape impossible, Chacon seemed to have resigned himself to his execution.
Freshly shaven and sporting a new suit, he made a long speech at the foot of the gallows, denying some crimes and admitting others.
Then, after a final cigarette, Chacon climbed the stairs, turned to the witnesses and, with a simple “Adios, todos amigos,” calmly accepted his fate.
The Arizona Bulletin newspaper reported that “(A) nervier man than Augustine Chacon never walked to the gallows, and his hanging was a melodramatic spectacle that will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it.”