CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A Miscarriage
There were some miscarriages in the operations of the klan. A memorable one of this character is recalled. A cavalcade, supposed to have started from the western side of the Warrior river, rode through Greensboro and proceeded to Marion, a distance of about thirty-five miles, presumably to take from jail and execute a negro who had, with but slight provocation, killed a white man with a paling which he wrenched from a fence. The riders visited the jail and demanded the keys. The jailer’s wife appeared and implored them to desist. The jailer himself, a member of a fraternal order, made an appeal which was recognized and respected by members of the party and was successful, and after much parleying, the invaders withdrew without molesting the custodian of the county Bastile or his charge. But an episode of the foray was embarrassing and dangerous. The riders had proceeded only a short distance when one of the horses fell and expired, in full mock panoply. Here was an awkward situation for the raiders. A comrade, far away from home, unhorsed and subjected to inevitable detection should he be abandoned! It is not known by what means he escaped and regained the realms of the “Grand Cyclops.”
The warning to evil-disposed persons conveyed by this raid perhaps obviated the necessity for another in that particular part of the county.
Across the border line of Mississippi occurred a lamentable disaster, due to incompetent leadership and ignorance of locality.
In 1870 the carpetbag government in Mississippi reached the zenith of its power, and its baleful influence pervaded every nook and corner of the state. The effects of misgovernment were deplorable. Lands which in ante-bellum days were appraised at twenty-five to seventy-five dollars per acre had so depreciated in value that at forced sales only about one dollar per acre could be obtained. There were few real estate transfers; some of the lands were depopulated; the only immigrants were carpetbaggers seeking offices; taxation was oppressive, especially for the support of schools, and almost the entire burden was laid upon the whites; the scanty possessions of negroes were within the limits of exemption; even the poll tax, devoted to school purposes, was evaded by them. In some counties tax-payers bore the expense of schooling three negro pupils to one white pupil. At length they resisted collection of the tax.
Robert W. Flournoy, of Pontotoc, distinguished himself in the resultant controversy. When not engaged as deputy postmaster and county superintendent of education, he conducted a weekly newspaper, and made it and himself odious. In his paper he bitterly denounced the Ku Klux as “midnight prowlers and assassins,” and responsible for the suppression of public schools. He insisted that in the schools there should be no separation of races, and engaged in a prolonged and heated controversy with the governor over the question of admitting negroes to the State University.
Colonel Flournoy received from the Grand Cyclops a communication, intimating that at an early date he would receive a visit from the men whom he had denounced. About midnight, May 13, 1871, Flournoy’s office foreman and a companion aroused him from sleep with the startling announcement that a band of Ku Klux had appeared in the village, and the leader was inquiring where the colonel’s residence was located. He had some shotguns, and, arming himself and his callers, departed from home and repaired to a blacksmith shop near by. At this place a number of townsmen, well armed, had already assembled. The colonel subsequently accounted for their presence with arms with the statement that during the afternoon they had been hunting, and when the foreman had alarmed them they were engaged in a game of cards. Altogether, these men constituted a strong force, and proceeded to arrange an ambuscade at the shop.
Meanwhile the Ku Klux, who, according to later revelations, were strangers, wholly unacquainted with the locality, having learned the situation of the Flournoy residence, were approaching it, unconscious of the state of affairs. Fronting the place and extending a long distance were deep and tortuous gulleys, and in their progress the horsemen became entangled and bewildered as in a maze and their formation broken. Extricating themselves in groups and singly, they approached the shop. Chancellor Pollard and Deputy Sheriff Todd were with the concealed villagers, and the former emerged from the rear of the shop and commanded the riders to surrender. Simultaneously, someone in concealment fired a shot, and instantly the ambushers sprang from cover and discharged a volley in the direction of the disordered klansmen. The surprise was complete and overwhelming. Horses, becoming unruly, frantically turned and fled. The riders in advance were thus thrown back upon those emerging from the gulleys. In the resultant confusion there was desultory firing back and forth, but the unfortunate strangers were unable to rally at any point, and singly and in small groups they withdrew to the main street, where they found themselves in little less embarrassing a situation. No one knew in what direction they should retreat. They had lost their bearings and knew not how to reach the road over which they had entered the village. Disbanded, they fled in different directions.
Colonel Flournoy’s supporters, for the most part, were ignorant of the character of the men whom they had assaulted and the object of the foray, and were easily led into the mistake of pressing the advantage they had gained. Consequently, led by Flournoy, they intercepted a small body of the raiders and fired on them.
Stampeded as they were, the resolute riders halted and returned the fire.
After daybreak a man, fully costumed and still in mask, badly shot, was found at the place where he and his comrades had been waylaid. The unfortunate was tenderly cared for, but expired a few hours later. Three others were wounded, but escaped. Sixteen horses, abandoned by their riders, together with the disguises of those riders, were picked up next day. The original party comprised thirty men.
There was profound sorrow in the little town when the inhabitants learned what an awful mistake had been made.