THE RUSSELLVILLE BANK ROBBERY.
Russellville is a beautiful village--almost grown to a city--in
a lovely region of country in Logan county, Kentucky. The people
of Russellville are educated and refined. It is the seat of
much wealth and boasts its colleges and academies. In general,
Russellville is a quiet place, and from year in to year out its
quietude is not often broken by any startling incident. But things
will occur everywhere, sometime, to create a profound sensation. It
happened that this quiet, prim old place should have a great and
notable sensation.
It was a bright morning in March. The blue birds had returned and
were singing their matin songs from the budding branches of the
trees. Russellville was as staid and sober as usual. There was not
a single thing to indicate that the old town was about to be shaken
up as it had never been before. The bank doors stood wide open, and
the cashier stood at his desk. An old lady hobbled down the street,
and a fresh school-miss paused to gaze at the early spring flowers
which adorned a neighbor's garden; a kitchen maid was singing a
ditty to her absent swain in the back yard; and a sturdy citizen
crossed the street to inquire if a certain bill which he held in
his hands was good.
Nothing strange in all this? Of course not. People were simply
minding their affairs according to their own inclinations. There
was a sudden clatter of hoofs that morning, the 20th of March,
1868. Terrible shouts and fearful oaths, and the sharp reports
of pistols accompanied the sound of the horses' hoofs. The old
lady suddenly dropped her staff and stood as if petrified; the
young miss ran hastily away; the cashier turned pale, and the
sturdy citizen hastily retreated back across the street. A dozen
horsemen, armed with two pairs of revolvers each, rode furiously
about the streets, and with fearful oaths commanded the people to
keep in their houses. Two of the men rode to the bank, dismounted
and rushed in. One of them presented a pistol at the head of the
cashier, and commanded him, under penalty of instant death, to be
still and make no noise. The other took out the contents of the
safe, amounting to many thousands of dollars; they then remounted
and rode away. In a few minutes the streets of Russellville were
comparatively deserted. The brigands had come in, secured their
plunder, and had as suddenly disappeared; the citizens scarcely
knew what had happened. Surprise prevented immediate pursuit.
The bandits had taken the road toward the Mississippi. They were
traced to that stream and across to the rugged hills of Southeast
Missouri, and then the trail divided up, and all marks of their
passage were lost. They found friends, did these bandits, in West
Missouri.
Who were the bold raiders? Where did they come from and where did
they go when they secured the rich booty from the plundered bank?
The good friends of the James boys declared that it was impossible
that they could have participated in that affair. In substantiation
of this position they pointed to the fact that Jesse James was at
the town of Chaplin, in Nelson county, which is fifty miles or more
from Russellville, and that incomparable raider himself wrote a
letter for publication in the Nashville (Tennessee) _American_, in
which he triumphantly points to the fact that at the very time of
the raid on Russellville, he was at the Marshall House, Chaplin,
and refers to Mr. Marshall, the proprietor of the hotel, for the
truth of the statement, that on a certain day in March, 1868, he
was at his house. But unfortunately the date of the robbery, and
the day which Jesse asserts he spent at Chaplin, were not the same
days. It was no uncommon thing for Jesse James to make more than
fifty miles on horseback in six hours, in those days when the roads
were good. He rode no inferior animals--the best blooded horses of
old Kentucky were bestridden by the daring raider.
Another thing: Jesse James was only seen in Chaplin the day after
the robbery, and in the evening at that; even if he had been seen
late the _same_ evening after the robbery, it would not have
constituted even a presumptive evidence of his innocence, since
after the robbery occurred in the morning he could have ridden to
Chaplin before nightfall. Just previous to the robbery, Jesse had
spent much of his time in Logan county, almost a dozen miles from
Russellville, with relatives, of whom he had a number residing in
that region. As we have before stated, Frank had been severely
wounded while resisting arrest at Brandenburg; but he was then so
far recovered that he had no difficulty in riding on horseback. He
had made a number of journeys between his usual stopping place at
Mr. Sayers' house in Nelson county, and the houses of his kin in
Logan county. The statement made by Jesse that Frank was at the
house of Mr. Thompson, in San Luis Obispo county, California, at
the time of the Russellville bank robbery, is incorrect. Frank had
not then visited California.
The friends of the boys, however, were unable to make a clear
defense for them, and they have been generally credited with being
not only participators, but leaders of the raiders.
At the time of the robbery, Geo. W. Shepherd, Oliver Shepherd, and
several others of "the old Guerrilla guard," as they were called,
had their homes or stopping places in Nelson county. Geo. Shepherd
had married the widow of the noted Missouri Guerrilla, Dick
Maddox, who was a member of the band which Quantrell led out of
that State. This redoubtable warrior, who had assisted at Lawrence
and Centralia, and had participated in many desperate and bloody
affrays, met his fate in a terrible conflict with a Cherokee
Indian. Maddox and Shepherd had been friends and comrades in the
dark days when they rode with Quantrell, and as Mrs. Maddox was
left alone in a strange land, and was yet young in years and comely
in features, George Shepherd readily agreed to console the widow in
her affliction and perform the duty of a faithful comrade to the
memory of his friend by espousing his widow. They were married and
settled in Chaplin before the raid on the bank.
The people of Russellville quickly recovered from their surprise
by the audacity of the robbers. The officers of the law rallied,
and there was mounting in hot haste and an earnest pursuit of the
robbers. Oll. Shepherd had suddenly disappeared from Chaplin;
several of the old Guerrillas had also gone away, and Frank and
Jesse James, too, had quietly departed from that region of country.
The Kentucky blood of the pursuers was up, and they followed
the trail of the robbers with tireless energy. They were traced
west over hills and through valleys. The Cumberland river was
crossed, and through the rugged region between that stream and the
Tennessee, they were tracked as foxes might have been trailed.
But the pursuers were always just too late to come up with the
gang. Still they followed on, and finally reached the banks of the
Mississippi only to learn that the persons they sought had crossed
before their arrival, and plunged into the wilderness regions of
Southeast Missouri. Some effort was made to keep on the track
of the fugitives through the swamps of Missouri, but the traces
became fainter and fainter as the pursuers advanced, until among
the rugged hills of the Southeast they faded out altogether, and
the Kentuckians were forced to give up the chase and reluctantly
returned home after a bootless pursuit.
George Shepherd had married a wife--moreover, he had bought a house
at Chaplin--and therefore he did not travel with his comrades to
the West. The officers of the law soon found him, and as he was one
of the suspected parties, and the bank robbers had taken Shepherd's
horses on which to escape, he was arrested and a thorough search
was made for evidence to convict him. He was taken to Russellville
and placed in jail. The grand jury of Logan county at its next
sitting found an indictment against him, and he was in due time
arraigned before the Logan county circuit court on a charge of
aiding and abetting the robbers. The evidence was deemed conclusive
by the jury before which he was tried, and a verdict of guilty
was returned and the punishment was fixed at three years in the
penitentiary at hard labor.
The other members of the band escaped to Western Missouri. Oll
Shepherd, a cousin of George Shepherd, was found in Jackson county
by the persistent Kentuckians. They desired to arrest him. A
requisition was procured from the Governor of Kentucky, and the
executive order of the Chief Magistrate of Missouri, for the
arrest of the fugitive. But Oll Shepherd was an old Guerrilla, and
he flatly refused to be taken back to Kentucky as a prisoner. The
civil officers were deterred from executing the warrant of arrest.
In those days there were vigilance committees in Missouri. To one
of these the situation of affairs was reported. It was at once
determined by the vigilantes that Oll Shepherd must either submit
to arrest or be killed. The company of vigilantes found him at his
home near Lea's Summit. Would he surrender? they demanded of him.
"Never! death first," he shouted back to them. Then the bloody work
began. But what could one man do against twenty-five? There could
be but one result. The one man must die at last, however bold and
skillful. So it resulted in this case. Oll Shepherd had been an old
Guerrilla under Quantrell, and had learned how to shoot and how
to despise fear. He resisted, and not until he had received seven
bullet wounds did he succumb. In fact, he died fighting.
The other members of the gang implicated in the Russellville
robbery escaped. The Jameses soon after went to the Pacific Coast,
and remained there for quite a while. They were on a tour in search
of health. The hard life which they had led and the desperate
wounds which they had received had sadly impaired their superb
physical systems, and they needed rest and time to recuperate
wasted energies and allow their wounds to heal.
[Illustration: Death of Oll Shepherd.]
Meanwhile, George Shepherd, shut out from the world, toiled on at
his unrequited tasks in the penitentiary at Frankfort. He who had
been the free rover and wild Guerrilla, the dauntless rider and
relentless foe, in the garb of a convict did service to the State,
and answered not again when ordered to his daily rounds of labor.
And he alone of the survivors of that band of freebooters who rode
so fearlessly and madly into Russellville that morning, bent on
mischief and crime, was made to feel the heavy rod of retributive
justice. Oll Shepherd had perished. Nemesis had overtaken some of
the old Guerrillas.