Frankfort, Nov. 27th, 1888.
Hon. H. C. Lilly, Judge, Irvine, Ky.
Dear Sir:--I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your
communication of the 13th inst. from Hazard, Perry County, in which
you say "Mr. B. F. French is here with 15, or perhaps more, men,
well armed, and the people are so much alarmed, fearing that they
will be left to the mercy of those men, that I have decided that I
will take the responsibility upon myself to order the Perry Guards
on duty, hoping that you will approve my action and order them on
duty, and let their pay begin on the 17th inst."
At the time I received your communication I was in communication
with the sheriff of Perry County. I inferred from his statements
that there was no immediate danger of an outbreak or opposition to
the civil authorities; and, second, that but slight effort had been
made by him to arrest violators of the law.
Your own statement does not inform me of anything more than a
vague apprehension in the public mind, and does not advise me that
the civil authorities cannot suppress any attempts at disturbance
by employing the usual force of civil government. _I assume that
if danger had been imminent, both you and the sheriff would have
remained on the ground_.
The object of furnishing troops on your application was to protect
the court in the discharge of its duties, and not to supercede the
civil authorities by a military force.
Under the circumstances I do not feel authorized to call the local
militia into active service.
Respectfully, your obedient servant,
S. B. BUCKNER.
The letter of Judge Lilly is significant as an admission of the
cowardice of the entire population. He says "Mr. B. F. French is here
with _fifteen_, or perhaps, more men, well-armed, and the people are so
much alarmed fearing that they will be left to the mercy of those men"
and so on.
Had Judge Lilly been correctly informed? If so, what had become of the
boasted bravery of Kentucky mountaineers that the manhood of an entire
county, containing many thousand inhabitants, should shiver and tremble
like frightened sheep and tamely submit to the intimidations of a band
of _FIFTEEN_, or perhaps more, men.
Was it possible that in this land of the free and the brave the
proportion of brave men stood fifteen to one thousand cowards? Oh no!
The authorities had simply never put the law-abiding, the true citizen
element, in a position to show its mettle; it had never been given a
proper test. The attempt to restore order had not been made at all;
if it had, it would have succeeded. No outlaw band, however strong,
can, or will, long defy the law when a firm and _determined_ move is
made to enforce it. Why is it that one courageous blue-coat policeman
can scatter a crowd? It is not his bulk, his figure, but the uniform
he wears, the badge of authority--the law. If he is a credit to that
uniform he may, single-handed, disperse a mob. The consciousness of
having the law behind him makes him dauntless; the thought of duty
steels his nerves. If those entrusted with the execution of the law
in Perry County had made _one_ firm, unflinching effort to uphold its
dignity, the period of assassinations would have ended then and there.
The history of lawlessness in Perry County furnishes ample lessons to
other counties, and to other states, for that matter.
Governor Buckner aptly expressed his opinion of the situation when he
terms the "fears and alarms" of the people as "anything more than a
vague apprehension in the public mind."
Judge Lilly probably accepted the trembling cowardice of a few as the
criterion by which to measure the manhood of an entire county.
However, on the 29th of October, the Governor notified the
Adjutant-General to forward troops to Hazard. His report to the
Governor later on furnishes interesting reading, as does the report of
the commander of the expedition, Captain J. M. Sohan.[6]