The excitement attending the arrest of the criminals was great throughout the county. Officers feared mob violence. To avoid it the prisoners were taken to Huntington, but were returned within a few days to Mingo County and lodged in jail, which was heavily guarded.
Cap Hatfield’s version of the tragedy is interesting and characteristic of the man. It was a total contradiction of the statements made by all the eye-witnesses.
Cap Hatfield said: “I believe it to have been a prearranged attempt to take my life. Rutherford was jealous of me years ago. Some two years ago he said I had done him an injury and demanded an apology. I told him I had not wronged him, but if he thought I had, I regretted it. He seemed to accept this explanation and I thought the matter ended. On the day of the killing he was quarrelsome and I avoided him, telling him that I had enough trouble in my time and wanted no more. Late in the evening Joe and I started for home. Rutherford renewed his quarrel and suddenly drew his revolver and began firing at me. I threw my gun up to get it in position and the first ball from his revolver hit here” (showing a heavy indentation on the underside of the heavy steel gun barrel). “The gun prevented the ball from entering my breast. He fired twice more before I could get my gun in position, then I fired my gun twice and drew my revolver. At the third shot he fell, and some one, Ellison Rutherford, I think, was firing on me from behind, and getting very close to me, as you can see” (exhibiting a nick in his left ear and a grazed place or scratch in the neck). “Chambers was shot by accident, I suppose. When I reached the railroad they were so hot after me I reloaded my revolver. Young Rutherford was shot purely in self-defense, either by me or the boy, I don’t know which. We made for the woods.”
“Yes,” he said, in answer to a question, “Clark and Christian got the drop on us. I was doing picket duty and sleep overcame me. The boy would have shot Clark had I not stopped him.”
An organized band of the Hatfields attempted a rescue of the prisoners, but the celerity with which the officers acted, frustrated the attempt. Devil Anse Hatfield and others were arrested for this, taken to Logan County and placed in jail there, but were soon afterwards released.
Deprived of a leader, the famous clan dispersed and the country breathed freely once more. Although a reward had been hanging over Cap Hatfield for many years without effecting his arrest, the tragedy of November 3rd, at last brought him behind prison bars. But the good fortune, which always attended this man, did not leave him even in this dire extremity. He was tried on one of the cases, fined and sentenced to imprisonment in the county jail for one year. Two other indictments, both for murder, were still pending in court. He was to be tried on these the following term.
In the little county jail at Williamson, West Virginia, Cap Hatfield now posed as a hero, receiving his wife, friends and relatives daily. One evening he held a “levee” and was the gayest of the gay. His gayety was explained when, on the following morning, the jailer made the discovery that the man who carried eighteen scalps at his belt, was a prisoner no longer. At midnight the crowd of visitors at the jail had gone. At three o’clock in the morning Hatfield was in the mountains. A hatchet, given him by some of the visitors, did the work of liberation. A large hole through a sixteen-inch brick wall caught the attention of the village policeman, who gave the alarm.
A crowd of men soon collected and started in search of the fugitive. It seems that Cap Hatfield, though getting off easy in one of his cases, was afraid to stand trial on the others, fearing a death sentence. But a few days before his escape he had remarked that he preferred death at the mouth of Winchesters to being made a show subject on the scaffold.
By noon of the following day the whole country was in motion. Like the gathering of the clans of old the sturdy citizens poured into the county seat and offered their services to bring back into the hands of justice the man who had for so many years defied the laws of two States. The county offered rewards, private citizens contributed to defray the expenses of the posse. Governor Atkinson of West Virginia promised aid; the State of Kentucky, through Governor Bradley, tendered assistance, and Virginia’s executive declared that the outlaw should find no asylum in that State.
The banks of the Ohio river were lined with armed men for many miles to prevent his escape into that State. It was generally believed that he would be apprehended within a day or two. But days passed and yet the outlaw had eluded his pursuers. He was no longer alone now. To his aid came his relatives, Johns, Elias and Troy Hatfield, Clark Smith, Henry Harmon and others, each heavily armed, and amply supplied with ammunition. Familiar with every nook and corner of that part of West Virginia, he was secretly assisted by other friends and henchmen, bound to him by ties of relationship or forced to render assistance through fear of incurring his enmity.