CHAPTER NINETEEN
Riots in Marengo
In the campaign of 1870, a former slave owner was one of the Republican candidates for office in Marengo county, and made what was regarded as an inflammatory speech to negroes gathered at Shiloh, a hamlet, situated in a section of Marengo county largely populated by negroes. A few white men were present, and between them and the candidate an angry controversy arose. The immediate result was cessation of the speechmaking and dissolution of the meeting. The orator was escorted by white men to a buggy and departed in safety. He was a pugnacious man and had a record of at least one victim to attest his prowess in rencontre. Some days later he repaired to Linden, the county seat, accompanied by two negro men, ostentatiously bearing a United States flag. There had assembled a great crowd of negroes, who were, as usual, armed. With him on the platform was Captain C. L. Drake, the man of many offices, and above them floated Old Glory. An offensive reference to the disturbance at Shiloh provoked a quick retort from one of a small group of white men who were listening to the speech. The orator paused, dramatically removed from his pockets his watch and purse, and from its fastening a diamond pin, handed them to the sheriff, with the request that he convey them to the candidate’s wife, in the event of a fatality, drew a pistol, and, remarking that he had been mistreated and would “fight it out,” descended from the platform. Negroes with guns sprang into double ranks, enclosing him on two sides. The group of whites promptly seized and disarmed him, and meanwhile white men with arms were rushing to the scene from all quarters. Somewhere on the outskirts of the throng a pistol was fired which caused a stampede in that quarter. The negroes about the platform, confronted by a line of determined whites, yielded and retired from the scene. Drake fled to his office and thence to tall timber. The candidate, forsaken by his followers, asked for protection, and was hurried into a room of the court-house and locked in with two or three citizens. The angry crowd outside was clamorous and the beleaguered man, rejecting all suggestions of plans for flight, himself finally proposed as a means of quieting the uproar to sign a paper relinquishing his candidacy for sheriff and withdrawing from politics. Duplicate copies of the paper were drawn up and signed; he retained one of them, and the other was taken outside and read to the people. It produced the desired effect. The candidate was placed in a buggy and, accompanied by an escort, proceeded to his home. And thus ended “the Linden riot.” But the candidate was irrepressible and speedily repudiated his act of self-abnegation as having been done under intimidation.
He spoke at Belmont, a small settlement, and became involved in an affray with a resident. This created a general disturbance, in which the meeting was broken up and the negroes sullenly retired from the scene. They threatened to burn the place, and a white man was shot at from ambush. So unusually hostile and aggressive were the negroes that warrants issued for the arrest of certain of their leaders, among them Zeke High. There were posted notices of a meeting of negroes at Belmont on July 5, 1870. White men in considerable numbers assembled there on that date, and the meeting was prudently postponed. A negro was whipped that night, and next night he assembled at his house, in a dense swamp near the river, a number of armed friends. A scouting party of whites, seeking information respecting the purposes of the negroes, approached their stronghold in the darkness of night; one of them (Melton) entered the yard and was fired at. Melton dropped to the ground and feigned death to escape another volley. Both sides, thinking he was dead, ceased firing, and the whites withdrew to give the alarm. A warrant of arrest was placed in the hands of an officer, but he was unwilling to attempt to serve it at night. A young man named Collins, bold and fond of excitement and adventure, volunteered to serve the warrant and was duly commissioned. Collins, with three companions, approached the house, but before he had time to summon the inmates to capitulate, a volley was fired by the latter and Collins sank from his horse in death. Two of his companions were slightly injured, and the party, after returning the fire, retired. This occurrence created intense excitement and indignation. Whites gathered from the surrounding country. The negroes were greatly reinforced and fortified a position in an almost impenetrable part of the swamp. Some of the whites favored an immediate assault, but other counsels prevailed, and the sheriff, with a small posse, proceeded to the scene and demanded Collins’ body. The demand was refused. Next day the sheriff rode into the midst of the mob and again demanded the body, and got it. A few hours later the white forces made a quick and determined forward movement to dislodge the negroes from their almost impregnable position, and found it abandoned,—the negroes had disbanded and fled in terror. This terminated “the Belmont riot”; but it had a sequel in the retributive death of the negro leader, Zeke High, who boasted that his shot killed Collins. On his own boastful confession High was arrested and lodged in the Sumter county jail at Livingston. September 29 a party of mounted and disguised men from the direction of Marengo forced the sheriff to surrender the jail keys, entered the prison and took High from his cell, conveyed him a short distance away and hung and shot him to death. This High was a desperate and dangerous character, and even when seized by his executioners fought ferociously. When the leader entered the dark cell in which High and three other prisoners were incarcerated, he was assaulted and struck in the face with a heavy piece of furniture, the blow dislodging several front teeth.