On the morning of April 1, 1870, the people of Eutaw were shocked when

informed of a tragedy which had been enacted during the night--Alexander

Boyd, county solicitor and register in chancery, had been shot to death by

Ku Klux! At first most persons discredited the gruesome story as an "April

fool" hoax, but incredulity gave place to amazement when the scene of the

awful tragedy was visited.

Of all the acts attributed to the klan, perhaps none was bolder than the

slaying of Boyd. A bachelor, he had for a long time occupied sleeping

quarters in a detached office building situated in a corner of the

court-house yard; but having received a warning note, he became alarmed

and abandoned these quarters and obtained an apartment on the second floor

of the Cleveland Hotel only a few nights previous to his death. This hotel

was situated on a corner diagonally opposite the court-house, and was the

principal rendezvous of townsmen with a taste for gossip.

Witnesses at the investigation into the circumstances testified that at

half-past eleven o'clock forty or fifty horsemen, in the regulation garb

and armed with revolvers, their horses robed and hooded, approached to

within a short distance of the hotel, where all except the customary

horse-holders dismounted and quickly and unhesitatingly entered the hotel

office, posted guards at all entrances, and then commanded the clerk to

take up a candle and show them to Mr. Boyd's apartment. Obediently the

clerk led the way until he reached the corridor upon which opened the room

they sought. Pausing here, in his speechlessness he indicated the door by

pointing, and then fled the scene. Within a brief space an agonized

scream, heard blocks away, issued from the room of the doomed man, and

was almost instantly succeeded by a heavy volley of pistol shots. The

panic-stricken clerk had hardly resumed his seat upon the office stool,

with hands to ears and head bowed upon his ledger, when the dread invaders

reappeared in the office. Signaling with whistles the recall of sentinels,

they quietly withdrew, remounted and rode around the square, in military

order, and then departed in the direction from which they first appeared.

[They were traced to the Mississippi border line.]

After their departure, officials and others repaired to the corridor and

discovered the dead body, robed in night dress, perforated with many

bullets and almost completely drained of blood. Not a shot had missed the

mark. Inside the room a table, bearing a lighted lamp, his revolver and

watch, stood close to the head of the bed. He had not attempted to use the

weapon. Evidently the purpose of his slayers was to remove him from the

building, for one of them carried a suggestive coil of rope, but his

outcry and struggles settled his fate.

Boyd was a nephew of William Miller, probate judge. Some years before the

war he was convicted of killing a young man named Charner Brown, and

sentenced to a term in the penitentiary. A petition in his behalf was

presented to Governor Winston, and in response thereto the sentence was

commuted to one year's imprisonment in the county jail. Having served the

sentence, Boyd departed for another state. At the close of the war he

reappeared, and, following the example of his uncle, sought office in 1868

at the hands of the negroes, and was made county solicitor and register in

chancery. He was not distinguished as a prosecutor, but regarded as

indifferent.

December 9, 1869, Dr. Samuel Snoddy left the village of Union, in the

northern part of Greene county, to return to his farm. Night overtook him

en route, and he became confused. Reaching the cabin of some negroes with

whom he was acquainted, he engaged one of them to pilot him. Early next

morning Dr. Snoddy's badly mutilated remains were discovered on the

roadside. The unfortunate man had been murdered and robbed of a

considerable sum which he had on his person. Sam Caldwell, Henry Miller

and Sam Colvin, negroes, were arrested, accused of the crime, and lodged

in jail at Eutaw. The scene of the murder had become notorious on account

of being a centre of league activities and disorders, and the murder of

Snoddy aggravated the sense of wrong under which the whites had long been

restive; and when, a few days later, the prisoners were released, one of

them on bond, they were seized and executed summarily. Solicitor Boyd, it

was alleged, manifested no zeal in the investigation of the Snoddy murder,

but became exceedingly active in the inquisition in connection with the

subsequent and consequent affair, and exultantly declared that he had

ascertained the names of all the men engaged in it, would send for

soldiers to effect their arrest, and vigorously prosecute them, and if

necessary hold the jury for six months.

All of these facts were related in explanation of popular displeasure with

Boyd, which revealed itself first in the note of warning and finally in

the taking of his life. Mr. Boyd's tombstone in the Messopotamia cemetery,

Eutaw, erected by Judge Miller, is inscribed: "Murdered by Ku Klux."

Greene county continued in a state of disorder, which grew worse as the

election approached.

The Republican state executive committee advertised that on October 25,

1870, Senator Warner, Congressman Hays, Governor Smith and Ex-Governor

Parsons would deliver addresses at the court-house in Eutaw. On that day

the party of visitors, accompanied by General Crawford, military commander

of the department, and others, arrived in town. They were informed that

the Democratic county committee had invited the voters to hear an address

by the Democratic candidate for the legislature, and had chosen the same

time and place. Thereupon the Republican leaders held a conference and

decided to invite the Democratic committee to hold with them a joint

meeting. Accordingly, Judge Miller, Congressman Hays and Mr. Cockrell were

commissioned to convey to the Democratic committee the following note:

"We propose to appoint a committee of two to meet a committee of two from

your party, to arrange the terms of a discussion for the day, to meet

immediately at the circuit clerk's office."

To this note the following reply was sent:

"Gentlemen,--In answer to your note of this date, we, the committee

appointed by the president of the Democratic and Conservative Council of

Greene county, are instructed to say, that we do not consider the

questions in the present political canvass debatable, either as to men or

measures; and we therefore, in behalf of the Democratic and Conservative

party of Greene county, decline any discussion whatever.

"J. J. JOLLY,

"J. G. PIERCE,

"_Committee_."

This reply was ominous. So apprehensive were the leaders that Congressman

Hays, who was exceedingly unpopular, decided, with the concurrence of the

others, that it would be safer if he should refrain from speaking. The

garrison troops were quartered a half-mile away from the court-house, and

Governor Smith requested General Crawford to have the entire body brought

to the court-house; but after conference with the sheriff, the general

concluded that a detachment posted two blocks distant would be a

sufficient safeguard.

Immediately after the note of reply was sent, the Democrats called their

meeting to order on the north side of the court-house, and soon thereafter

the Republicans assembled on the south side. The Democratic meeting lasted

only a short time, and at its conclusion the auditors repaired to points

where they could listen to the Republican orators.

Corridors run through the court-house, crossing each other in the centre

of the building. These spaces were thronged by white men.

For the accommodation of the Republican speakers, an improvised platform,

formed of a table, was placed against a window opening from the clerk's

office. All of the Republican visitors and local officials occupied chairs

in this office. By request of Senator Warner, the office door was locked

from the inside, in order, as said, that "whatever danger there might be

would be in front."

Senator Warner spoke without unusual interference. Ex-Governor Parsons

followed and was listened to attentively. When he retired through the

window, the negroes called for Congressman Hays. A Democrat, Major Pierce,

approached Governor Parsons, who was seated inside near the window, and

advised him to restrain Hays. Parsons, in response, endeavored to attract

the attention of Hays, who had mounted the platform with the intention, as

he subsequently testified, not to deliver an address, but merely to

dismiss the audience. If this was true, his purpose was misunderstood, for

the table was suddenly tilted and Hays precipitated. As he fell a pistol

was fired, and the ball passed through Major Pierce's clothing. Some

witnesses testified that Hays fired it, and Parsons afterward admitted

that Hayes was armed with a derringer; others, that the shot came from the

direction in which the negroes were massed. However this may be, there was

an impulsive forward rush by the negroes, and, as Warner admitted, they

had weapons in their hands.

The first shot was instantly succeeded by a volley from the corridors, and

the onrush was halted. Suddenly, in a resonant voice, someone in a

corridor shouted: "Go in, boys, now is your time!" Continuous firing

followed, and the negroes fled in great disorder, leveling the stout fence

which enclosed the yard, a few discharging pistols as they fled.

Even in this grave situation there was an amusing incident. In his

testimony before an investigating commission Senator Warner, describing

the riot, related it accurately. Beaver hats were not worn in Eutaw at

that period. Mr. Parsons' attire was similar to that of Quakers and

included a light-colored beaver hat. Senator Warner's tile was

conventional, black and glossy. "I caught up the papers in my hands," he

said, "and walked very deliberately to the right, in order to get out of

the way of the firing. There came from the right-hand side of the

court-house a pretty good line of men, thirty or forty, I should think.

They came around all together, and formed a tolerable line across from the

corner of the court-house to the fence, and commenced firing on the

negroes, who had broken down the court-house fence and were fleeing as

fast as they could. These men cocked their revolvers and fired upon them

as rapidly as they could. I looked at them for a moment, and then walked

up to them as they were firing. I saw some colored men falling on the

grass and then scrambling up and moving off. I walked up to these men and

held up my hand in a deprecating manner, and said, 'For God's sake, stop

this!' One of them who was nearest to me turned around and cast a kind of

defiant but yet somewhat surprised look at me. One of them leveled his

pistol upon us, Governor Parsons, Mr. Brown and myself; he was standing

about the length of this table distant from us. He leveled his pistol at

Governor Parsons. The governor said: 'For God's sake, don't shoot at me; I

have done you no harm.' The crowd stopped firing and turned their

attention to us. Just at that instant the sheriff came around with his

arms spread out, and said: 'Stop this! stop this!' The man stopped for a

moment and seemed to be deliberating whether he should shoot Parsons. He

then saw Mr. Hays on my right; turning a little to one side to avoid me,

he threw his pistol down upon Hays and Mr. Brown, who were both together,

and tried to shoot them. They both sprang behind me; I saw them getting

behind me and squatting on the ground to avoid his fire. By that time the

negroes had been driven out of the court-house yard and across the street,

where they had stopped and turned, and began to fire back. A few were

firing back. Just at that moment I heard somebody call out, 'Boys, hold

your fire!' The firing then ceased. I started and walked through the

crowd, right among them. I suppose there were forty or fifty of them, all

standing there with their revolvers in their hands, smoking, as they had

been firing. Just as I was getting out of the crowd somebody from behind

struck at me and knocked my hat off; I just felt the blow on my head, but

I could not tell who it was, for when I turned around his hands were

dropped, whoever it was. I guess it was pretty lucky I did not know, for

the blow aroused me a great deal, and I am afraid I should have lost my

self-possession. I turned around to pick up my hat, when another man

kicked it; then another kicked it; and then the whole crowd, one after

another, played football with it and kicked it across the yard. I started

back to get it, when a man by the name of Dunlap, a Democrat, who seemed

to be in accord with the party there, walked up to me and took me by the

arm in a friendly sort of way, and said, 'General, you had better get away

from here or you will get hurt!'"

The senator's hat furnished diversion at a critical moment, and in all

probability was the means of saving his life and the lives of his friends.

There had been firing from the clerk's office, and Mr. Cowan (one of the

actors in the Greensboro tragedy mentioned in an earlier chapter), was

slightly grazed on the left thigh. He was brandishing a pistol and calling

to the white men to rally about him, and standing near a window of the

clerk's office. He believed that he was made a target by a prominent

Republican who was in the office. Two other white men, near Mr. Cowan,

were struck by missiles from the negro ranks just before they fled from

the yard. Some of the party with or about Senator Warner had, a moment

before the scene described by him, emerged from the office and were

retreating to the Cleveland hotel, and a determined group of men,

including Reynolds, with a shotgun, were pursuing them when the fun with

the hat commenced. While it was yet in progress, the soldiers wheeled

around the nearest corner and rescued the imperilled Republican leaders.

Meanwhile the negroes, having fled in two directions to points where they

had guns concealed in wagons, secured these arms and resolutely moved back

toward the scene of their rout. They were aware of their preponderating

numbers, and counted on the sympathy of the soldiers. Those on Prairie

street had not proceeded far when they encountered a squad of mounted men

commanded by the marshal and a few sharpshooters posted behind trees in

private yards, who speedily checked their advance. At the intersection of

the two streets which were scenes of reviving combat a line of white men,

armed with guns, all men of tested courage, was formed to prevent a

junction of the two bodies of negroes. Just then the soldiers, at

double-quick, made their appearance and were halted opposite the line of

armed citizens. After a brief hesitation, the officer gave the command to

move and the soldiers proceeded down Prairie street. The negroes quickly

lost courage and retreated, and before long none could be seen within

miles of the town. And so ended the Eutaw riot, in which, according to the

local newspaper, the _Whig and Observer_, and the testimony of witnesses,

54 men were shot, and from 250 to 300 white men and from 1,800 to 2,000

negroes were engaged. The number of wounded was probably exaggerated.

The pistol shot which followed so quickly the rude interruption of Hays'

remarks was not the real cause of the riot; it was but the signal for the

opening of a conflict which had been impending for some time, and it gave

vent to indignation which had been suppressed with difficulty. The

explanation is found in earlier occurrences.

In October the white people of Greene county were much disturbed by rumors

that a number of bands of negroes had been drilling with arms in parts of

the county where plantations were largest and the negro population

densest. A country store was burned by incendiaries, and threats were

made that the several bands would be consolidated and Eutaw attacked by

the combined force.

Lieutenant Charles Harkins, commanding the detachment of troops

garrisoning the town, reported to his superior officer at Huntsville as

follows:

"I have the honor to report that on the evening of the 19th instant,

reports were brought to this town, by both colored and white men, to the

effect that a band of armed colored men intended burning the town that

night. The rumor seemed to be generally credited by the citizens, which

caused great alarm and excitement. Armed parties of citizens were

immediately formed, under the direction of the sheriff, and patrols and

pickets sent to the suburbs of the town, where they remained all night. No

demonstration was made by the colored men, if they had any such intention,

which I am inclined to doubt. The excitement has abated, but there is

still a feeling of distrust and anxiety among all classes.

"The real facts of the case, and cause of the present alarm, I believe to

be as follows: The colored men and Republicans generally of this county,

feeling aggrieved at the many murders and outrages perpetrated on men of

their party by the Ku Klux organization, have determined to protect

themselves in future and have banded together for that purpose only, not

to assume the offensive, or interfere with the peaceful, law-abiding

portion of the community."

The relation of cause and effect in this thwarted conspiracy to destroy

Eutaw and the riot which followed so soon is indisputable. The trend of

Lieutenant Harkins' sympathies is equally plain. He was inclined to doubt

that the banded negroes intended to burn the town, but readily intimated

that they had provocation in "the many murders and outrages perpetrated on

men of their party by the Ku Klux organization." Not a word is there in

the report concerning the burning of the store, nor of the fact that

refugee white families from the widely-separated plantations were moving

into Eutaw for protection against the menacing bands of negroes, nor that

the "patrols and pickets" were necessary precautions not of one night

only, but of three nights, and served to deter the negroes from

prosecuting their design.

The prompt action of the whites in driving the negroes out of town on

October 25 would seem precipitate and unjustifiable if not considered in

connection with the facts just recited. Nearly two thousand negroes

attended that meeting, and they took with them guns, which were secreted

in wagons at the foot of Prairie street. They were aware that the

commanding officer of the garrison was in sympathy with them, and that

they would encounter only a small body of white men should there be a

collision. No doubt they counted much on the presence of the radical

governor of the state, the military commander of the department, a senator

and a congressional representative, all in sympathy with them, and all

smarting under indignities received only a few days before at a meeting in

an adjoining county.

The white men remembered the nights of anxiety for the safety of the women

and children and property of the town, and realized the danger of the

situation in which they were placed by the group of official Republicans

who heedlessly and recklessly assembled thousands of negroes who had so

recently been frustrated in a design to obtain revenge for punishment

administered to evildoers of their race. Those white men had courage and

resolution to meet the emergency, and they met it promptly and terribly.

And they taught a lesson for which there has never since been occasion for

repetition.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

RESTORATION OF WHITE SUPREMACY

The state election in 1870 resulted in a victory for the Democratic and

Conservative party, but there was a persistent effort to deprive that

party of the fruits of victory. There was instituted on behalf of the

incumbent governor and treasurer a proceeding in the chancery court to

enjoin the presiding officer of the senate from counting the votes for

candidates for those two offices. The legislature met November 20, and the

law required that the vote be counted, with the two houses assembled

jointly, within the first week. In the proceedings instituted, Governor

Smith alleged irregularity in the election. The judge of the circuit court

refused to grant an injunction, on the ground that the legislature could

not be enjoined by a court. It was then filed with a supreme court judge.

It prayed that the presiding officer of the senate be restrained from

counting the vote until the legislature could provide rules by which the

proposed contest should be tried. Judge Saffold, as chancellor, granted

the injunction. Lieutenant-Governor Applegate was dead, and Barr, an Ohio

man, was presiding. The injunction was served on Barr, and he very

cheerfully obeyed it.

There are some interesting facts in relation to this senate. The radical

constitution gerrymandered the senatorial districts, in some instances

apportioning a senator to a single county; in others, a senator to a group

of three or four counties, with nearly threefold greater population.

The constitution provided that representatives in the legislature should

be elected for two years, and senators for four years; that one-half of

the seats of senators first elected (in 1868) should be declared vacant at

the end of two years, thus providing for continuation of a certain number.

In accordance with this provision, at the session in November the question

whether the senators should draw for the long and short terms was

discussed; nobody wished to vacate his seat, and by hocus-pocus they

reached the conclusion that all should hold over. Consequently, one-half

of them sat four years and the others for six. This procedure contributed

much to the complication of affairs. This senate connived at the attempt

to prevent the count of returns.

At noon on the last day of the week the two houses assembled and Barr

proceeded to count the returns for other officers, declaring that for

Lieutenant-governor E. H. Moren had received a majority of the votes cast

at the election; that for secretary of state J. J. Parker had defeated J.

T. Rapier; that W. A. Sanford had defeated Joshua Morse in the race for

attorney-general; that Joseph Hodgson succeeded N. B. Cloud as

superintendent of public instruction. These winners were all Democrats. As

soon as he had declared these results. Barr and the radical senators

withdrew. Lieutenant-Governor Moren then appeared, took the oath of

office, assumed the chair of the presiding officer, and directed that the

returns for governor and treasurer be brought in. This being done, he

proceeded forthwith to count them and declared that Robert B. Lindsay, for

governor, and James F. Grant, for treasurer, had received majorities, and

to proclaim them duly elected. These officers were sent for and sworn in.

Consternation seized the Republican leaders. They were caught in their own

trap, for the injunction had been served on Barr and he had qualified his

own successor in the person of Dr. Moren, who as lieutenant-governor was

unaffected by the injunction. Lindsay lost no time in demanding possession

of the office, but Smith refused to yield and had federal soldiers

guarding all entrances to the offices of governor and treasurer.

Judge J. Q. Smith went from Selma to Montgomery, and before him Lindsay

and Grant instituted proceedings, demanding that the seal and all books

and papers and other property pertaining to the offices of governor and

treasurer be delivered to them, respectively. The proceedings lasted

several days. Meanwhile, Montgomery was fast filling up with young men,

strangers in the community, and there were rumors that bodies of men in

near-by towns were awaiting summons to the capital, and that locomotives

with steam up and cars attached, ready for service, were side-tracked at a

number of stations. Judge Smith's court-room was daily crowded with

strange men. Excitement was intense.

When the Ku Klux Rode · 第 6 / 7 段