CONFESSION OF LEONARD CALVERT BROCK, ALIAS JOE JACKSON, MADE AT
MEMPHIS, TENN., JULY 19, 1890, AND CORRECTED AND AMENDED AT
JACKSON, MISS., OCTOBER 16, 1890.
Leonard Calvert Brock is my full name. I was born in Coffee County,
Ala., July 13, 1860. My father’s name is Joseph E. Brock, and he was
born near Raleigh, N. C. He is a physician by profession. He moved from
there to Georgia, and then to Alabama. My mother’s name was Sallie
F. Harrell, and she was born in Georgia. My parents were married in
Georgia before coming to Alabama. I have one brother, whose name is
John Brock. He was born in 1863, and now lives on a farm in Coffee
County, Ala. I have a married sister, who was born in 1852, Rebecca
Katherine Brock. She married William Russell, and lives in Coffee
County. The post-office address of all the above named parties is Elba,
Ala.
I was never married. Was raised on a farm, and my schooling was
limited. I went to school to a good teacher about eight months.
Remained on a farm in Coffee County, Ala., until 1886, when I went to
Texas, on account of a cutting scrape, the particulars of which are as
follows: I had a negro working for me whose name was Louis Chapman.
We had some hot words about a business matter, and I stabbed him very
severely. I was also accused of killing a negro in Coffee County about
the same time, and on account of these troubles I left home. I am
innocent of the murder of the negro.
I went to Texas via the Southern Pacific route, and stopped at San
Antonio, where I went to work for one Robert Daniels. Daniels was
engaged in buying horses and driving them to northern Texas. I went
to Dallas from San Antonio, and worked awhile in a lumber yard. I
also worked a month for a man named Brown. Then I went to Sherman and
stayed a few days, but was unable to get work. I went from there to
Gainesville, and from there to the Indian Territory, where I worked for
a man named John Pair.
I then went back to Cook County, Texas, in the southwest part of the
county. There I first saw Rube Burrow, in company with a man whom he
called “Bill.” This was in the spring of 1886. Burrow employed me to
help get up cattle. We went down into Young County, and from there to
Wise County. I did not visit Burrow’s house at any time. We drove some
cattle to Fort Worth and sold them. He sold about thirty or forty head.
Then he quit the cattle business and discharged me.
I then went to Texarkana and worked at a saw mill for a few days. I
then went to Shreveport and got work at a sawmill about one hundred
miles below Shreveport. I went from there to New Orleans, and from
there to Mobile, and worked a few days in a livery stable for a man
named Metzger. I went from there, in the fall of 1887, to Pensacola,
and got work driving a team. From there I went to Milton, and drove
a team for a man named Collins for some time, and went from there to
Florida and remained there, working part of the time. I was at several
stations on the Pensacola and Atlantic Road.
In the latter part of 1887 I went from there to Texas. First I stopped
at Sherman, and worked there for a few days. I stayed there until
February, 1888. There I got a letter from Burrow. He addressed me
as Lewis Waldrip. I was then going by that name. He said he was in
trouble, but did not say what it was, and asked me to come to him. The
letter was written from Vernon. I replied to the letter, addressing it
to James Cash, and told him I was undecided whether to come or not. I
received another letter from him, also from Vernon, Ala.
About the first of March, 1888, I went to Alabama. I went via Memphis,
and got off the train at Sulligent, and went to old man Burrow’s by
way of Vernon. I found Burrow at Cash’s house. He then told me that
detectives were searching for him, and told me about his arrest and
escape at Montgomery. He stated they had gotten off the train at
Montgomery and started up the street, when policemen attempted to
arrest them. He escaped, after shooting one of them, but his brother
was captured. He was pursued by a party and surrounded in a negro
cabin, where he had gone to get some coffee. He ran out of the house to
the timber and escaped unhurt, although fired upon. He sat down in the
bushes, and although he had no cartridges he pretended to be loading
his pistol, and they were afraid to attack him. He went from there back
to Lamar County, Ala.
[Illustration: L. C. BROCK, _alias_ JOE JACKSON.]
After I arrived in Lamar County, in March, 1888, we stayed there about
a week, and then went south to Monroe County, crossing the Georgia
Pacific Road at Columbus, Miss. We went into Columbus, Miss.; from
there to Artesia, Miss., and thence to Meridian. We took a boat on
the Tombigbee River and went to Coffeeville, Ala., and then walked to
Baldwin County, Ala. We worked in Dunnaway’s log camp there, and it was
here we met John Barnes. I drove a log team for Dunnaway, and Burrow
sawed logs with Barnes. We remained there three weeks. Dunnaway then
moved his teams to a point on the L. & N. Road, near Perdido Station. I
carried a team there for him, and he then discharged me and Burrow, and
we sawed logs at another camp for a few days. We then left, and crossed
the Alabama River near Fort Claiborne. We crossed the Tombigbee
River at the station where the railroad crosses the river. Workmen
were engaged in painting the bridge, and asked us not to cross on the
bridge, and we went down and crossed at the ferry. We then went north
until we got into Mississippi, and went via Buckatunna to Ellisville.
Then we went to Forrest, Miss. We bought our horses in Smith County,
Miss. I traded my horse at Dixon, Miss., giving $15 to boot. The horse
cost $90. Burrow paid $85 for his horse. From Dixon we went to Oxford,
via Houston, Miss. We went through Oxford on horseback. We went on
to Berryhill’s, Rube Burrow’s brother-in-law, arriving there about
eleven o’clock A. M. Berryhill was absent, but returned that evening.
We remained there two days. Left there in the afternoon, and went
east to Okolona. Went thence to Cotton Gin, Miss., and from there to
Vernon, Ala., stopping at Cash’s house. We got to Lamar County in the
middle of May. Cash kept my horse and Burrow took his to his father’s.
We remained there, being most of the time near Cash’s house, until
the early part of August, when Reuben Burrow, having learned that his
brother Jim, who was in the penitentiary at Little Rock, Ark., for safe
keeping, would be taken to Texarkana about the fifth of September for
trial, determined to go to his rescue. We talked the matter over, and
resolved to rescue him from the guards, even if we had to kill them to
do so. I do not recollect what date it was, but we saddled our horses,
one at John Burrow’s and one at Jim Cash’s, on a dark night in the
early part of August, and started on the Arkansas trip. We crossed the
Tombigbee River at Cotton Gin, Miss., and came through Okolona, Miss.,
through Oxford, Miss., through Sardis, Miss., and took a westerly
course to Helena, Ark., where we crossed the Mississippi River. Went
from Helena to Pine Bluff, crossing the White River at St. Charles.
Crossed the Arkansas River nine miles south of Pine Bluff; then went to
Malvern; then to Donaldson, fifteen miles south of Malvern, where we
expected to get Jim Burrow from the train. Then we passed Arkadelphia,
remaining there one night, and went down to Curtis, fifteen miles
south of Arkadelphia. There we searched two trains for Jim Burrow, but
failed to find him. We then came back through Arkadelphia to Donaldson.
There we searched two or three trains. Then we went up to Malvern, and
boarded two or three trains there. While at Curtis, Ark., we learned
that there was a train which would not stop at that place, but would
stop at Arkadelphia, and Rube said he would go back to Arkadelphia. We
made the trip, riding hard, but not in time to get on the train. Just
as we rode into the town the train pulled out.
Then we lost all hope of getting Jim Burrow, and came on to Pine Bluff,
crossing the Arkansas River nine miles south of Pine Bluff, and came
on back through the country to DeWitt, and crossed the White River at
a point twelve or fifteen miles north of St. Charles, Ark., and went on
back to Helena, crossing the Mississippi River at Helena. Stayed all
night at a little town on the Mississippi River, fifteen miles above
Helena, on the east side of the river. Next day we came out through
the bottom, wading our horses through mud knee deep for fifteen miles.
Stayed all night two miles from the ferry, and there met Fletcher
Stephens, who wanted to hire hands to pick cotton. Burrow proposed that
we go to work picking cotton for Stephens. Stephens agreed, and gave
us fifty cents per hundred and our board. This was about the first
of October, 1888. Burrow was a good cotton picker, but I was not. We
picked cotton until about December first, and Stephens paid us $50.
We then went from there to Sardis. Remained all night at Sardis, and
crossed the Tallahatchie and went south to Berryhill’s, where we stayed
one day. Went from there to Water Valley, Miss., and stayed there all
night. Put our horses up at a stable there. Had decided at this time to
rob a train, but no place or time had been set. We decided on robbing a
train before we left Berryhill’s.
While looking at some horses at the livery stable at Water Valley,
Burrow and I noticed a policeman eyeing us closely. This made us rather
uneasy, and when the policeman went from the stable to the hotel where
we were stopping, Burrow followed him and went to the hotel and got
his saddle-bags, which he had left there. We then saddled our horses
and left.
We stayed at a widow’s house that night, and as it was raining next
day we stopped at ten o’clock at a house and remained there until next
morning. We then went south, and took dinner next day ten or twelve
miles from Duck Hill, Miss. Arrived at Duck Hill soon after dark on the
night of December 15, 1889. I went into a store and bought two boxes
of sardines; went back, and we waited a short while for the train. The
horses were hitched out about half a mile or so from town, and east of
the track.
When the train pulled into the station we were in plain sight. There
was nobody out, as it was a bad night. We were there close by the
station. We got on the engine just as it was ready to pull out, both
on the same side, and each one of us had a pistol. I did not point my
pistol directly at either engineer or fireman, but we covered them and
ordered them to run out a certain distance, about eight hundred yards
from the station, and stop. The engineer was in the act of stopping
the train when we got on the engine, but we made him pull out. When
he stopped the train I stepped on the ground first. Just as I stepped
on the ground I fired off my pistol in the air, and about that time
Burrow, the engineer and the fireman got out, and we all walked back to
the express car. About the time I fired my pistol I noticed the door
of the express car was open. Burrow went in the express car. I remained
on the ground.
Pretty soon I saw a man walking towards me from the passenger coaches,
and told him to go back. I thought he was going to shoot me, and I
asked the engineer to tell him to go back, and the engineer did so. The
engineer asked me at the same time not to shoot him--that the man had
nothing to shoot me with--and I did not shoot him. The man did not turn
back, and the negro fireman told him to turn back, and he then did so.
In a few minutes some one down by the passenger coach spoke, and at
the same time commenced shooting at us. The engineer ran, I don’t know
where to, and as they commenced shooting (I think they had fired about
two shots) I commenced firing. I kept advancing from the train, in
order to dodge their shots. There was somebody else down in one of the
coaches who shot out several times--probably four or five times.
After the shooting was over I walked back to the side of the express
car and stood there until Burrow came out. I did not know there was
anybody shot. I fired one shot when I stepped off the engine, and fired
four shots while standing at the express car. I could see the man I was
shooting at, but very indistinctly. Did not hear him cry out when shot.
I remained by the car, after the shooting, until Burrow got out. The
negro fireman said to me, “Don’t shoot me.” I said I was not going to
shoot him.
I think I saw Burrow in the car door while the shooting was going on
outside. We were all shooting rapidly, and I could not tell much about
Burrow’s shooting. When we left the car we loaded our pistols. I put in
five cartridges, and he put three, he said, in his.
We then made our way back to our horses, got on them and rode the
balance of the night. It was raining all the time, and we waded the
creek three times, crossing bends, to get to our horses. It began to
rain very hard after we mounted our horses.
We rode at least forty miles by daylight. That day we camped in the
woods, about forty miles from the scene of the robbery. Burrow got
some corn for the horses. We were very wet. We built a fire to dry our
clothes, and then ate something about the middle of the day. We dried
the money and counted it. There was $1500 in greenbacks and $365 in
silver. We divided it half and half. This was on Sunday. That evening
we started out about sundown, and crossed the Illinois Central Road at
Weirs Station. Went through the town, and took the Philadelphia road
and rode all night, making about fifty miles; rode on next day until
about eleven o’clock. Stopped at a house and got dinner, and stayed
there about three hours. On Monday night we did not ride very far.
Built a fire that night. Tuesday morning there was a heavy frost.
We left the Philadelphia road next morning, coming to Pearl River
before we got to Philadelphia. We thought we might be waylaid at the
bridge by detectives and shot, and when we got within two hundred
yards of the bridge over Pearl River, we turned through the swamps and
swam the river about eight o’clock Tuesday morning, five miles from
Philadelphia. We rode through the timber until we struck a road leading
north from Philadelphia to Lewisville. Did not travel the road. Laid up
that day in the woods.
Started about sundown, and just after dark stopped at a negro’s house
to buy corn for our horses, but found no one at the house. There was a
rail pen full of corn, and we could have taken what we wanted, but we
did not do it. Stealing corn was out of our line of business. Riding
on, we saw a light, and going up to it, we found an old colored woman
in the house. From her we bought twenty-five ears of corn and some
provisions, paying her one dollar therefor. Fed our horses there, and
went through Lewisville on Tuesday night after the robbery, and took
the road towards Macon, on the M. & O. Road. Rode fifty miles that
night.
Next day we lay up until ten o’clock, stopping at daylight. Then went
on towards Macon, and turned to the left and crossed the M. & O. Road
at Brooksville, Miss. We inquired here for the road to Columbus. Went
via Deerbrook to Columbus, riding slowly, and crossed the Tombigbee
River just before day at Columbus. Went out from Columbus about six
miles and stayed there that day.
A lightning rod man who lived at Aberdeen, Miss., came out to the house
where we were stopping. We remained there until after dark. Took the
road at dark and traveled toward Vernon, Ala. Arrived at Vernon about
midnight on Thursday night after the robbery, and went to Jim Cash’s
house about twelve o’clock. Got something to eat and fed our horses,
and left word for him to come up next morning and get our horses. We
went five miles above there to a point in the woods.
Don’t remember that we asked Cash anything about the robbery. First saw
an account of it in the Memphis _Appeal_, which came in a day or two
after we got there. John Burrow came to us next morning. We did not say
anything to him about the robbery. He brought us something to eat. Told
us where we could take our horses and sell them. We turned over the
horses to John Burrow that morning, and he took them off to sell them,
but did not succeed in selling the horses then. Mr. Cash afterwards
sold the bay horse. A man there kept the sorrel horse.
We remained around there, staying first in one house and then in
another--most of the time at Cash’s house and John Burrow’s, but not
much at old man Burrow’s. I stayed in the woods in day-time and in the
house at night.
Stayed there until some time in July, 1889, having arrived there from
the Duck Hill robbery just before Christmas. Sometime in the spring
Burrow decided to send for a wig, and sent for it, to be addressed to
W. W. Cain. I don’t recollect at what post-office. After a long time he
heard that some mail had come for W. W. Cain, at Jewell post-office.
Mr. Cash said that one day he asked the postmaster, Mr. Graves, if
there was any mail there. Graves said there was a circular or paper of
some kind there for Cain, and he would bring it or send it down, which
he did a few days after.
They got word in some manner that a wig had come, and Burrow also got
word that Graves said he was going to arrest the man that came after
it, and see what business he had with it. Heard that Graves had taken
it out of the wrapper and was showing it to people, and remarked to
several that he was going to take in the man that came for it, and find
what business he had with it. Burrow asked me to go for it, but I did
not want to go. I told him that to go after it, if Graves was going to
do a thing of that kind, would stir up a big fuss. Burrow at last said
he was going to have it, and that Graves would not arrest him, and he
went after it.
He started one morning before day, and, on arriving, went in the house
from a door on the east side; saw Mr. Graves standing behind a counter
near the post-office department, and a lady standing behind the same
counter near the other end of the house. As he stepped in he spoke to
them politely, and asked Graves if there was any mail there for W. W.
Cain. Graves made no reply, but walked slowly from the post-office
department towards a double-barrelled shotgun, which Burrow said he saw
sitting behind the counter, and which was the gun that Graves intended
to arrest the man with. He asked him a second time if there was any
mail there for W. W. Cain, and Graves said “Yes,” but still advanced
towards the gun. Burrow told him to get the mail, and he made no effort
to go to get it, and Burrow then pulled his pistol and shot him,
saying, “Get it for me, or I will shoot you again.” About that time
Graves began to fall, and the lady said, “Don’t shoot him any more; I
will get the mail for you.” She then went and found part of the mail,
and Burrow asked her if there was any more. She told him she thought
there was, and found it and gave it to him, and he then left, going out
the same door he came in.
There was a negro in the house who ran out just as Burrow pulled his
pistol, and while he was standing there he saw the negro’s head around
the door, but he ran off again.
Burrow got back at ten o’clock that night to where I was staying, at
Jim Cash’s house. He waked me and told me that he had to shoot that man
to get his mail. Before Burrow went to the post-office I advised him
not to go for the mail, as he had heard that Graves intended to arrest
the man. I said, “You might shoot him, and it would cause a great deal
of trouble.” But he said he was going to have it, and that it was his
and he had paid for it.
After he came to me that night and told me that he had shot him, we
then went out and laid in the woods. We left without seeing Cash, and
went over about a mile north of Cash’s in the hills, and remained
there until that evening about three or four o’clock, when Mr. Cash
and John Burrow came from Sulligent. We heard their wagon coming, and
got near the road, where we saw them. Cash told us where to go, and he
would bring us something to eat next morning. Cash only remained a few
minutes; said he had heard Graves was killed. Burrow said nothing about
it.
That night we went to a place which was over in another direction,
about half a mile from Cash’s. He brought us something to eat, and
we remained there one or two days. We then went nearer to Cash’s
house, and remained in the bushes for a few days. Then we went to John
Burrow’s and stayed in the bushes, probably two or three days, when
the men came from Aberdeen. The night they came was a wet and rainy
night, and we went in John Burrow’s house to sleep. Next morning, just
before day, I went out of the house and discovered three men lying on
the ground. I got within four or five feet of them. I did not go back
in the house, but went back in the bushes where we had been staying.
Burrow waited until daylight, and then came out where I was.
The men who had been scattered around the house were gone. I told
Burrow I walked on somebody out there. He said he reckoned not, but
I insisted that I did, and when Mrs. Burrow brought us our breakfast
we told her about it. She went out and found signs. She walked on the
other side of the house, in the lane where there was sand, and she said
the sand was all packed with tracks.
We remained there until we heard the men coming back to Burrow’s, and
they were right at his house before we got up to walk off. We then
walked around there through the bushes, about three hundred yards from
John Burrow’s house, and remained through the day. When night came we
walked over in another direction about a mile from John Burrow’s and
half a mile from Cash’s.
The detectives had Jim Cash, John Burrow and old man Allen Burrow in
jail. Rube did not say much about it, only that they were holding them,
thinking it would enable them to get us, and that they would turn them
out in a few days.
We then depended on the women to bring us food. John Burrow, Jim Cash
and old man Burrow were turned out of jail in two or three days, and
we then continued around in the bushes until about the latter part of
August, Jim Cash bringing us food.
About this time old Mrs. Burrow, Allen Burrow’s wife, went up a few
miles north to Crews to see her sister. She got word that Rube Smith
wanted to see Rube Burrow. She came back and told Rube Burrow about
it, and he decided that he would about as soon see him as not; at the
same time he thought there might be some trick in it, but in a day or
two he got his sister to go and tell Rube Smith where to meet him. The
place agreed on was at the lower corner of the graveyard at Fellowship
Church. We went there early on the night we were to meet him. We did
not go to the lower corner of the graveyard, but went down in the
bushes a piece further. I went to sleep after being there awhile, and
Burrow crawled up near the corner to see who would come. He got tired
waiting, and came back to where I was and woke me, and I had been
awake a few minutes when we heard some one walking. He crawled back as
quickly as he could near the lower corner of the graveyard, where we
heard the man walking, and got over inside. He saw there was only one
man, and he spoke to him. They stayed there a few minutes; I did not
hear the conversation; then he brought him up and introduced him to
me as his friend, without giving any name, and did not call my name.
Burrow told me he had not seen Smith since he was a little boy. I knew
Smith was the man we were going to meet, because Rube Burrow had sent
his sister after him. We stayed there a few minutes, and then we all
three went back to where Burrow and I had been, in the woods half a
mile from Cash’s.
We remained there next day, and next night we went nearer Smith’s
house. We did not go in sight of the house. It was about ten or twelve
miles from Cash’s. We remained there two days. Smith went after food
for us, but I do not know where he got it. We then went back near
Cash’s again. Remained there one or two days, when we started south,
traveling down the Tombigbee River. We did not start for any certain
point when we started. Burrow told Smith, just as he told me, how a
train could be robbed. Smith agreed to go; said he had no money, and
needed some.
We then traveled south to Ellisville, Miss., on the Northeastern Road.
It was concluded before we got to Ellisville that we would rob a train
on the Northeastern Road, but Rube decided that there was not a great
deal of money on that road, and we would go back over to Buckatunna
and rob a train there. I should have said that our route to Ellisville
was via Buckatunna, Miss. After getting to Ellisville we decided not
to rob the Northeastern train, and decided to go back to Buckatunna.
We traveled on the road until we got within two or three miles of
Buckatunna. Waited over one day in a little out-house. We went out half
a mile from the house and got some bread cooked at a white man’s house.
I went to get the bread cooked, and made the bargain for it, and Smith
went after the bread when it was cooked.
On the evening previous to the robbery I went to Buckatunna and got a
piece of meat and went back to the camp. Saw a negro in the out-house
where we were staying, but did not talk to him. When dark came on we
left the house and went through Buckatunna; don’t remember how far
we went below Buckatunna, but we went to where the trestle was. We
remained there that night until the north-bound train passed. Then
Burrow and Smith went to Buckatunna. Burrow asked which one was going
with him. I do not remember just what was said, but he told Smith to go
with him, and I remained there until they came down with the train. The
train stopped right where I was sitting, at the end of the cross-tie.
I then said to Burrow, “You had better bring out the pick with you.”
Burrow had told me how they had picked the door open when the express
messenger refused to open it, and they did that rather than fire the
express car. They brought the pick out, when Smith, the fireman and
engineer got off the engine. Burrow remained on the engine two or
three minutes, or got off on the other side, I don’t know which. They
then came back to the express car. Burrow took a position in front of
the door of the express car and told the express messenger to open
the door; that if he attempted to move away without opening it he
would shoot him. It was a barred door that Burrow wanted opened. The
messenger opened the door and Burrow went in. What words were passed as
he was going in, or after he was in, I do not know. I remained there
with the fireman and engineer. Smith walked back towards the passenger
coach a few steps. The conductor, or some one, came to the door of the
passenger coach and asked what we were doing--I suppose two or three
times. I fired off my pistol in the air. Some one--I suppose it was
Smith--fired his pistol off also. Burrow got through in the express car
and came out. He told the engineer to pull the train up until the mail
car was off the trestle. The engineer said he did not know whether he
could move it until he got up more steam, but he believed the mail car
was already off the trestle. Burrow stepped back and asked the mail
agent to open the door, which he did. He then got up in the mail car.
What was said or done in there I do not know. He came out and said he
had the mail.
The engineer said he would have to get up more steam before he could
move the train, as he had on extra coaches that night. It took him a
few minutes to get up steam, and we remained there with him until he
pulled out. We were all close to the engine, and there was some talking
carried on, but I don’t remember what was said.
After the train pulled out we went off in an easterly direction; got
out a short distance and took the covers off the money, in order to get
rid of the weight, piled them up and set fire to them. Did not divide
the money then. The greenbacks were put in a sack; don’t remember who
had it; believe Burrow took the sack, and we divided the silver to make
it lighter for each one. Some time that day we divided the money. We
then traveled in an easterly direction until we crossed the Tombigbee
River. I think each of us got $1,150, making in all about $3,450. After
crossing the Tombigbee River we turned north, traveling up the river
until we got to Demopolis, Ala. There, after resting in the bottom a
couple of days, on Monday morning Smith took the train, either for
Montgomery or Birmingham (I can not say which), stating he was going
back to Lamar County. Burrow told him particularly to be cautious and
not to show his money. I have not seen Smith from that day to this.
Burrow and myself then kept on north until we got to Lamar County,
traveling on foot through the woods part of the time, and in the road
part of the time. Traveled mostly by day from Demopolis. Arrived at
old man Burrow’s some time in the night, and remained there a few days
until we rested up. The night we got there we did not sleep at all,
but stayed on the ground until nearly day, when we went into old man
Burrow’s barn, up in the loft. Some of them came out to the barn in
the morning, and we made our presence known. We remained in the barn a
couple of weeks; then we went up near Cash’s and remained there for a
week, he bringing our food to us.
We then went back to old man Allen Burrow’s; remained there a few days,
and decided to go down the country on a wagon. We were tired of having
to lie out in the bushes, and made up our minds to go south, after
discussing the matter. I proposed buying a horse; Burrow said he did
not want to go that way; he would rather take an ox-wagon and go. We
concluded at one time to walk, and got as far as Columbus, Miss., or
within a mile or two of that place, and there Burrow said if we went
back he would buy a team, and that if I would go with him with the team
he would pay my expenses. He offered to pay my expenses because I did
not want to go on the ox-cart. I decided to go back with him, but it
was against my will.
We went back to Lamar County, to old man Burrow’s house, and Rube
Burrow bought a team of oxen and a wagon. Jim Cash carried the team to
Columbus, Miss. Burrow and myself went to Columbus with Allen Burrow
in a covered wagon. We got out of the wagon within a few miles of
Columbus and old man Burrow went on to town. We waited awhile and then
went into the city, it being about dark when we got there. We then took
the team and drove over about three or four miles east of Columbus and
camped for the night. Next day we hitched up and drove on; camped when
night came on, and drove in the day-time until we got to Flomaton,
Ala., arriving there on the 14th of December, 1889.
I concluded I would not go into Florida with Burrow, but would go to
Louisiana. I boarded the train at Flomaton for New Orleans, where I
took the Texas Pacific Railway next day for the home of my uncle,
J. T. Harrell, at Pleasant Hill, Sabine Parish, La. He is a well-to-do
merchant there, and is the brother of my mother. I had not seen him
since my boyhood, and he knew nothing of my connection with Rube
Burrow. I represented to him that I had been in the cattle business in
Texas. I remained there till about the 15th of February. I passed the
time pleasantly, visiting in the town the friends and neighbors of my
uncle.
When Rube Burrow and I separated at Flomaton, Ala., we were to meet on
the 20th of February at what we supposed was a station called Dyers,
a few miles east of Mobile, on the L. & N. Road. When I went there on
February 20th I found there was nothing there but a switch. I failed to
meet Burrow, and went back to Mobile and to New Orleans; did not stay
at New Orleans; got there in the morning and left that night, going
back to Mobile. Remained there a few days and then went to Scranton
and remained there one day. I then went back to Mobile. I walked to
Scranton; took me several days, and did not stay there, but came back
to Mobile. Was sick at Mobile with measles two or three days. Remained
at Mobile until the middle of March, when I left and went to Meridian.
Stayed there until the first of April. Then went to Demopolis, and came
back to Meridian shortly. Made a trip to Vicksburg; stayed there two
weeks. Went back to Meridian and stayed there until the latter part of
April, and then decided I would go back into Lamar County, Ala. I got a
ticket from Meridian to Columbus; at Columbus I got off the train and
walked to Allen Burrow’s; got there in the night and went up in the
barn and went to sleep. That was the latter part of April or first of
May, 1890. The first person I met was Mrs. Burrow, who came out to the
barn; she asked where Rube Burrow was; told her I did not know where he
was; had not seen him since before Christmas. First heard them talking
about getting after Burrow in Florida, when I went to Dyer to meet him.
Mrs. Burrow did not know anything about this; asked me if I knew when
he would come; I told her I did not know. Remained in the barn that
day; that night I went in the house. Went up in the loft at Allen
Burrow’s house; they put bedclothes there and handed me food up in the
loft. Stayed there during the day all the time, from about the first
of May until last Tuesday, July 15th. Came down at night; did not go
anywhere at all; talked with old man Burrow very little.
When Rube Burrow and I agreed to meet at Dyer Station, on the L. & N.
Road, it was for the purpose of robbing a train on the Louisville and
Nashville Railway. He said if we did not meet on the 20th of February
at Dyer Station, that we would meet early in the fall in Lamar County;
think he said about September 1st. Waited for him at Dyer one day,
February 20th, as agreed, but he did not come. I heard, while at Bay
Minette, that the detectives had routed Rube in Florida, and therefore
did not much expect to meet him as agreed.
I left old man Burrow’s last Tuesday night on his mule, having made
arrangements with Cash to meet me, and Cash was to take me to Fernbank,
Ala. I borrowed $25 from Cash. He carried me within five or six miles
of Fernbank and turned back. I gave him my pistol, because I did not
intend to ever use another pistol. I felt bad, and said very little
to Cash. When we separated he asked me when I was coming back. I said
I reckoned I might be back in the fall. He did not seem to be anxious
about Rube, and said nothing about him.
Rube Burrow never talked with me about any particular robbery he
was engaged in, except at Genoa, Ark. He did tell me he was in that
robbery, and indirectly mentioned the Gordon and Ben Brook, Texas,
robberies, giving me to understand he was in those robberies also.
I have heard Rube Burrow say that if he was out of trouble, or if
he was where he could quit robbing trains, that he would stop it.
He thinks a great deal of his children, and is anxious to have them
educated, and spoke of coming back to Lamar County in the spring to see
if they were at school.
When I started from Allen Burrow’s on the 15th of July I intended to
go to Columbus, Miss., and from there to some point in Kentucky, and
intended to quit train robbing. That is why I gave away my pistols.
We got in the Duck Hill robbery about $1,500 in greenbacks, and about
$250 in silver. This we divided, each taking half. We did not rob the
mail at Duck Hill. Burrow wanted to do it, but I would not agree to
it. Burrow insisted on robbing the mail at Buckatunna, but Smith and I
protested against it. Burrow said, “If we can get away with one, we can
get away with the other; and if we are taken for one offense, we will
be taken for the other,” and insisted on robbing the mail, and carried
out his view.
My opinion about Rube Burrow is about as follows: I have often heard
him say that if the detectives crowded him that he would kill them, or
he would shoot his way out if they did not kill him. He said it would
be a life and death fight. I have heard him say more than once that
if he could get a large lot of money he would leave enough at home to
take care of his children, and then, if he could, would go off where he
would not be bothered, and lead a quiet life.
Am pretty well satisfied he will come back to Lamar County about
September 1st, because he said he would do so.
At one time, while in the cattle business at Fort Worth, Texas, I had
an encounter with a man who was a bully, and who was cutting up one
day, and in an insulting manner ordered me out of his way. I stepped
out of his way, but he kept annoying me, and I at last decided I did
not want any more of his talk, and told him so. He then cursed me, and
I cursed him also, and he drew a knife. I had a pistol, and walked up
to him and struck him on the arm, knocking the knife out of his hand,
and then knocked him down. Burrow witnessed the affair, and this was
probably the reason he chose me to help him in his train robberies.
I was never in a train robbery with Burrow in Texas, and he never
mentioned that he had engaged in train robbing in that State, except
indirectly, as I have stated.
When we started on the Arkansas trip I had one Colt’s forty-five
caliber pistol. Burrow had two forty-five caliber pistols. Had no
rifle. These were the arms we used in the Duck Hill robbery, and, as
far as I know, Rube Burrow now has these same pistols. They are not
double, but single action pistols. Burrow got from Connecticut a Marlin
rifle, thirty-eight caliber, in April, 1889. It holds fourteen or
fifteen cartridges.
At Duck Hill we tied our pocket handkerchiefs, such as we used daily,
around our faces, just before we boarded the engine. I do not remember
the color of the handkerchiefs. At Buckatunna I tied my handkerchief on
just before the train stopped. Burrow and Smith had theirs on when the
train stopped, and I suppose put them on before they boarded the train
at Buckatunna.
(Signed) L. C. BROCK, _alias_ Joe Jackson.
* * * * *
The foregoing statement being read in the presence of L. C. Brock, and
he having stated that the same is correct, we, the undersigned, do
hereby certify to the same, and agree that while Reuben Burrow is alive
the statement will not be made public.
G. W. AGEE,
T. V. JACKSON,
V. DELL.
* * * * *
The statement made by a so-called detective, Stout, in a publication
issued by him, that Rube Burrow was on the train at the time of
Jackson’s capture, dressed in female apparel, and escaped, like many
other accounts in that volume, is a silly fabrication.
Joe Jackson was brought to Memphis and quartered in the building of
the Southern Express Company, on North Court Street, for several days.
He was confronted with the evidence of his crimes by the express
officials. The chain of testimony which had been riveted about him,
from the day he joined Burrow, was unfolded to him link by link, and
he was told to choose between a trial for the Duck Hill affair, in
which the penalty was hanging, for the murder of Chester Hughes, and
that of Buckatunna, where the penalty was imprisonment for life. For
two days Joe held out, still denying the crimes charged, but, finally,
on the morning of the third day, when he found he was to be taken to
Duck Hill, he agreed to give a full statement of his participation in
the Duck Hill and Buckatunna robberies, and to narrate the story of
the movements of Rube Burrow and himself from the day they first met
until they separated in December, 1889. The sole stipulation was that
his confession should not be made public while Rube Burrow lived, a
promise which was faithfully kept by the express officials, satisfied,
as they were, that the knowledge they possessed would soon enable them
to capture Rube Burrow, then the last member of his band at liberty.