(NOVEMBER 7TH AND 8TH, 1889.)
Court had proceeded with unimportant business until the fourth day of
the term.
Considerable disorder had occurred on the night of the third day of
court, but actual hostilities did not open until the following morning.
During the forenoon a heavy volley of shots suddenly rang clear and
sharp in the cold November air and echoed through the valley.
There was a momentary silence in the crowded court room. Every man
looked at his neighbor, questioningly and uncertain. Then with one
impulse judge, lawyers, jurors, officers and bystanders sprang to their
feet, rushed for exits and into the street. There the crowd scattered
like sheep in all directions, some to seek the protection of the walls
of buildings, others to depart from town without the ceremony of a
good-bye.
Not until after the first stampede had somewhat abated was it that the
factions began to take cognizance of the situation and prepare plans
for concerted action.
When the first volley fired, no one about the court house knew what
had really happened. No one took the time to ask. It was instinctively
assumed that it was the beginning of the long-expected general battle
between the French and Eversole forces.
The shooting had been done by the owner of a glorious jag, and if
cooler heads had prevailed a battle might have been averted, but once
the factions had reached their arms and assembled, peace was out of
the question. The instigator of the trouble, one Campbell, had been
engaged with several others of his friends, in a game of cards, on a
hill overlooking the village. The hill is known as the Graveyard Hill.
In a spirit of excessive hilarity, produced by over-indulgence in
fire-water, he had stepped to the side of a tree and fired his pistol.
At the upper end of town one Davidson kept a store. At the reports
of the pistol Davidson looked out of a rear window of his place of
business. He saw Campbell standing on the hill waving his still smoking
gun. Davidson procured his Winchester rifle, took deliberate aim, then
fired. Campbell sank dead to the ground.
As soon as the panic-stricken crowd had left the court house the
Eversoles rushed into it and took possession of it.
Two French men, Jesse Fields and Bob Profitt, found themselves isolated
in a jury room on the second floor, while the court room proper was
already occupied by their enemies, the Eversoles. The two were in a
precarious situation and thoroughly realized it. There seemed but one
chance for escape open to them--a leap through the windows into the
yard below. They saw themselves outnumbered twenty to one. Resistance
would have been folly and surrender did not appeal to them. Neither
side had thus far in the "war" exhibited much respect for principles of
civilized warfare.
The moment the Eversoles took possession of the rooms beyond, Fields
and Profitt locked the door of their room and as noiselessly as
possible hoisted one of the windows. On looking into the yard below
they hesitated. It was a high jump, with many chances in favor of their
breaking their necks, or at least a limb or two. But when the enemy
attempted to break through the door all hesitation vanished. Both
leaped and landed on the ground below without sustaining injury.
This daring leap had been perceived by the Eversoles. The two men were
fired upon as they ran for life toward and into the jailer's residence
for cover. This building, as well as the court house, was of brick.
The two structures stood within fifteen feet of each other and fronted
the same street. The Eversoles now passed their time in ventilating
the thin brick walls of the little building. Fields and Profitt began
to feel uncomfortably warm, but held the fort. They had an ample
supply of ammunition and continued to pour volley upon volley into the
windows and through the walls of the court house. All through the long
afternoon the guns roared. Clouds of smoke hung low and heavy over the
unfortunate town. Constant was the clatter of firearms. The incessant
hiss of leaden missiles was interspersed with shouts and defiant curses
while the silent terror of women and children was pitiful to behold.
The whole presented a scene not easily forgotten by those who were
compelled to witness it.
Thus far the battle had proved bloodless, notwithstanding the
tremendous expenditure of ammunition. Neither of the belligerent armies
had dared an open attack. They fought now as they had practically
always fought during the war--from well-secreted places. Fortified in
their quarters, they took care not to expose their persons. It was
no senseless caution, for upon the appearance of an object anywhere,
behind, in or under which a human being might be suspected, it became
at once the target of many guns and received very close attention
indeed.
With the approach of night Fields and his comrade felt that they must
evacuate the premises or succumb to an attack by superior forces under
cover of darkness, but to join their friends some distance away they
must necessarily run a dangerous gauntlet. However, they preferred
dying in the open to being caught like rats in a trap.
It was dark when the two desperate men started on their perilous
journey. With heads bent down upon their breasts, like men facing a
beating hail, they ran for their lives. Every gun of the enemy was
trained upon them, and fired. Presently defiant yells from the French
position announced to the crestfallen Eversoles that their prey had
escaped them.
When the battle started French was absent from town. He arrived during
the night.
All night long the battle continued with scarcely an intermission in
the firing.
During the night Tom Smith and Jesse Fields succeeded in eluding the
vigilance of the Eversoles and occupied the Graveyard Hill. When the
first ray of dawn approached, Fields and Smith opened a terrific fire
upon the Eversoles in the court house, the balls crashing through the
windows, driving the occupants to seek safety by throwing themselves
upon the floor.
During the early morning hours two of the Eversole men attempted to
cross a street near the court house, when Fields and Smith opened fire
upon them. One of the men, J. McKnight, was instantly killed, while
his companion escaped. Smith and Fields used a sunken grave as a rifle
pit and from a tombstone Smith took the rest for the shot that killed
McKnight.
The strategic advantage of French's men perplexed the Eversoles, who,
penned up in the court house, were rendered practically helpless. The
fusilade was so continuous that an attempt to return the fire from
the windows would have meant certain death. The balls crashed through
the windows, tearing the wood casings to splinters and the shutters
were completely shot away. The furniture in the court room was thrown
about and knocked into atoms. The building, from which the Eversoles
had expected so much as a point of vantage, proved a death trap. To
retire from it the Eversoles appeared as anxious as they had been to
take possession of it. Their retreat to the river bank was effected in
safety, but to prevent attack while crossing the river, Green Morris
and a companion remained concealed under the banks of the river. Fields
and Smith on the Graveyard Hill were the first to see the Eversoles
in retreat and started in pursuit. Approaching the hiding-place of
Morris, the latter fired, wounding Fields severely in the arm and thus
effectually checked further pursuit. If Smith and Fields had reached
the river unharmed, the record of the fight might present an increased
list of casualties, as both were men of great courage and good
marksmanship.
On the records of the Perry Circuit Court appears an order of Special
Judge Hurst, giving his reason for the unceremonious adjournment of
court. It is an interesting document. Certainly Judge Hurst's reason
for adjournment seems a valid one: