Dow Bryant and a Gallon of Whisky
I will here relate an instance that I well remember. A man by the name of Bridges lived just above where Bakersfield is now located, owned a little mill at the same place where they still continue the work of the mill just above Bakersfield. The mill ground from twelve to fifteen bushels per day; most of us carried our sacks on horseback, and ground by turns. Bridges had employed a man by the name of Math Shipman to run the mill. He was a small man weighing only about 135 pounds, and there was a man by the name of Dow Bryant, lately from the state of Tennessee, quite a large man, weighing 225 pounds, who delighted in fighting under the old style, and claimed that he had whipped two of the best men in Tennessee at the same time. Shipman had made some statement that reflected upon Bryant; so Bryant procured a gallon of whiskey, and, taking two men with him, went from Bennett's river over to the mill and informed Shipman of what he had heard he had said in regard to him, and said to Shipman that if he had said it and didn't take it back, he would have to whip him, and the only thing he hated about it would be the whipping of as little a man as he was. Shipman replied that he need not take that matter into consideration, and that his father had always taught him that if he told anything and it was the truth, not to take it back under any consideration, and that what he had said was true; and as to his whipping him, his father had always taught him never to admit anything until he knew it was true; and "I have my doubts about you being able to whip me; but if you will get your second ready, as soon as the corn that is in the hopper is ground out and I refill the hopper I will get my second and we will go out into the mill yard so you can test it." They accordingly got their seconds, went into the mill yard, formed a ring, and when the word was given by the seconds, they went together. Shipman bit every finger on the right hand and three fingers on the left hand to the bone; and Bryant's friends, seeing he was going to be whipped, proposed parting them. Bryant returned home, and when his neighbors would meet him with his fingers all bound up, they would say, "Hello there! What's the matter?" His reply would be, "I went over into the wilderness and got hold of a wildcat, and it like to have eaten me up before I could get loose from it." He would further say that Shipman was all mouth, and that he could not put his hands anywhere about his head unless he got them in his mouth.
I will give another instance touching the same man (Bryant). He went over to Salem during circuit court. The sheriff of the county was a man by the name of Dick Benton, quite a small man, and the constable of the township was named Moore and a very small man. Bryant was drinking some, and wanted to fight as usual, and became noisy. The judge ordered the constable to arrest him; but when Bryant saw the constable coming, he backed behind an old building, and ordered the constable not to rush upon him. When the constable came in reach, he knocked him down, came walking around, and remarked that no tickey officer could arrest him. The judge then ordered the sheriff to arrest him. When the sheriff came within reach, he knocked him down, came walking back, and remarked, "I thought they understood me when I told them that a tickey set of officers could not arrest me." During the time the father-in-law of the sheriff had come out. Bryant walked up to him, and with a d—— said: "I want to know what you are doing here." Without any more words being passed, the sheriff's father-in-law knocked Bryant down, jumped onto him, but he holloed, and they took him off. Bryant straightened himself up right into his face again and remarked, "I have told a lie, I am not whipped." Without any more words he knocked him down again and gave him a considerable pelting. Bryant holloed again, and after they had taken him off, he straightened up and walked off about ten steps distant, turned around, and remarked, "I have told a lie, I am not whipped; but I am not going to say it within reach of that old man any more." On the same day some men knocked him down, taking a common clapboard, hit him three licks while he was running on all fours, then got a piece of chalk and wrote on it, "Dow's board," and nailed it up on the corner of the square.
The drinking class for years used all manner of language and obscenity in the streets, and even in the hearing of the court. There was a man by the name of Neeley who became a candidate for circuit judge, and one of the main reasons he urged for his election was that, if elected, he would punish all offenders of the public peace, and force all persons to respect the court, and he would discharge the duties with some dignity and respect for himself and the people. Shortly after he was elected and during his first court, a man by the name of Smith, who lived just north of Salem on the South Fork, and who had worked for his election, came into the court room after the court was in session, walked around to the judge, took him by the hand and remarked, "Judge, I want to congratulate you on your success, and I hope things will change." The judge turned to the clerk and remarked, "Mr. Clerk, assess a fine of five dollars against Mr. Smith." Smith soon retired from the court room and declared that Neeley was a tyrant, and that if he had his vote back he would not support him. In the afternoon the judge ordered the sheriff to bring Mr. Smith into the court room and said to him, "Mr. Smith, you were a warm friend of mine in my canvass, worked for my election, and no doubt contributed much to my success. Now I don't want to disappoint you in any promises that I made during the canvass, but after court is convened and the judge on the bench, it is contempt in any gentleman to come up and take him by the hand and congratulate him on his success; and now I hope that you, with all others of my friends, and those who are not, will support and protect me in enforcing the dignity of the court." Mr. Smith at once became pacified, and said that the judge was right.
We remember another instance that occurred during the same court. There was a young lawyer, who came into court, wearing a very fine pair of boots, and, standing on his feet, he would occasionally raise onto his toes, and you could hear his boots creak all over the court room. The judge turned to him and remarked, "Mr., what did those boots cost you?" The lawyer quickly replied, "Ten dollars, sir." The judge remarked to him, "I think you got the boots too cheap. I think they ought to be worth twenty dollars. Mr. Clerk, assess a fine of ten dollars against this man."
On the next day a man by the name of Cage Hogan, a man who was widely known, in company with others, got on the public square, near the saloon, and began to curse and swear, and use all manner of obscenity. The judge ordered the sheriff to go down and see who was making the disturbance. The sheriff went out to the place and stated to the crowd that the judge had ordered him to see who was creating that disturbance, and to arrest the party. Hogan remarked, with an oath, "You go back and tell the old judge that it is Cage Hogan, and that I suppose he has heard of me before, and I don't allow sheriffs to arrest me until I get ready." The sheriff came back and reported to the court, and the judge made an order for him to proceed at once and arrest Mr. Hogan and all others that he might find acting in a boisterous manner, and if necessary to take the power of the county, and if he didn't immediately bring him into the court room he would assess a fine against him of $100. The sheriff returned and informed Mr. Hogan of what the court had said, and that he would be bound to arrest him and take him by force if he didn't go without it. Hogan remarked that if it would be any pleasure and consolation to the old tyrant he was the man who could go into the court room. When he came into the court room, the sheriff said, "Here is Mr. Hogan." Mr. Hogan remarked, with an oath, "I am here, judge, and I would like to know what you want." The judge replied that there were some parties creating a disturbance in the hearing of the court and that he had ordered them arrested and brought in. "Do you know who the parties are?" Hogan, with an oath, replied, "I am the man; and, judge, I want you to understand that I am a horse, and if you hain't become acquainted with old Cage Hogan, you will." The judge remarked to him that they had a stable and that was the place for horses, and that he would assess a fine of $50 against him, and ordered the sheriff to take him to jail until it was paid. Hogan, remarking, "I always carry the money to pay my way, and you need not put yourself to any trouble to have the sheriff carry me to jail," pulled out his pocket book, took out $50, and said, with an oath, "Here is the money, and I want you to understand that I am no jail bird, and you can't stick me in your old jail." The judge then said, "Mr. Hogan seems to have plenty of money; Mr. Clerk assess another $50 fine against him." At that Hogan appeared to hesitate and reflect, and, pulling out a quart bottle of whiskey from his pocket, started to approach the judge, who was on the bench, saying with an oath, "Here, judge, let's drink together and be friends and stop this foolishness." The judge turned to the clerk and said: "Mr. Clerk, assess another fine of $50 against him," and ordered the sheriff to take him forthwith to jail and keep him there until further orders, for he considered him an unlawful horse, and he did not think it safe for society for him to run at large. The sheriff, with a considerable posse, carried him to the jail, and with considerable trouble put him in and shut him up. He remained in jail two days, and at the evening session of the second day the sheriff came into court and said that Mr. Hogan was very desirous of seeing the court. The court then ordered him brought in. On his being brought in, the court asked him if he still thought he was a horse. Hogan replied, "No, sir; I am not anything now but Cage Hogan." The judge said: "As you have now arrived at the conclusion that you are human and not animal, are you willing to respect the laws of your land and the dignity of this court?" Hogan replied: "I am, judge, with all my heart." The judge then said to him, "What about that money of yours; are you able to pay the $150 fine?" Hogan said, "No, judge, I don't feel like I could pay $150 this evening; I don't feel as rich and as brave as I did when you first brought me into court, and I want you to be as lenient with me as possible." The court said, "Mr. Hogan, if you will promise me that you will neither disturb the dignity of this court nor incite others to do so, I will remit all of your fine except $50." Mr. Hogan then and there paid the $50 fine and was released. From that time up to the end of his term there never was any disturbance of any nature in the hearing of the court, and if you went into the court room everything was so quiet that you could almost hear a pin drop.
The Tutt and Evert War.
My memory is that it was in the year 1846 that an incident occurred in Marion county that I will now relate. It was known as the Tutt and Evert war. They were once fast friends. They met in Yellville, the county seat, and while there one of the Everts purchased a set of silver spoons at the store of one of the Tutts. Afterwards a misunderstanding grew up between them as to the payment for the spoons, which led them into a fight. Afterwards, which was often, when they would meet in Yellville, they would hardly ever get away without some fighting taking place between the parties. There was a large gathering and a public demonstration to take place within a few weeks. The Tutts declared, backed by the Kings, that if the Everts came into town that day they would kill them outright. Both parties came in early in the day, heavily armed. After coming under the influence of intoxicants to some extent, Evert went into the public square and stated what he had heard from the Tutts, and said that if they, the Tutts and Kings, were ready for the conflict, there never was a better time than then, and that they, the Everts, were fully ready. Both parties, in short range, opened fire. One of the Kings shot Simm Evert during the fight, supposed to be through the heart. One of the Kings, just previous to the shooting of Evert, had been shot through the hips and so disabled that he could not stand upon his feet. After Simm Evert had received the wound, he turned around, and, within a few steps of the wounded King, picked up a large stone, raised it in both hands, and, stepping up to King, came down on King's head with the stone with all the force possible, completely crushing King's head. Then, turning around and walking about three steps, he remarked, "I am a dead man," and fell to the ground and expired within a few minutes. When the smoke cleared away and the fighting ceased, an examination showed that there were eight or ten left dead on the ground. The stoutest men afterwards went to the stone, but there wasn't one of them that could raise it from the ground. The surviving Kings made arrangements and attempted to leave the country. At that time the sheriff of the county was a man by the name of Mooney. A writ was placed in his hands and he arrested them. Shortly after the arrest, the Everts and their friends came upon the sheriff and his posse and demanded the prisoners. The sheriff gave them up, and they were all shot. The sheriff then appealed to the governor for aid; he sent the militia, who aided the sheriff in the arrest of the Everts, a man by the name of Stratton, and some others of their friends. The governor ordered them to be taken to Lawrence county and placed in the Lawrence county jail at Smithville, the county seat of that county. I saw the militia in charge of the prisoners pass my father's house on their way to Smithville.
In about ten days after they were put in prison, late one evening, strange men commenced dropping into the town, who were unknown to the citizens, until they reached to about the number of sixty-five. Somewhere near midnight they paraded the streets, and the jail being a log jail, they prepared levers and pried it up and let the prisoners all out, and they all left together, Evert, Stratton, and their friends proceeding directly to Texas. After their families had reached them and everything had quieted down, they sent in and notified Hamp Tutt, whom they charged with being the inciter and leader in bringing on the original trouble, that if he would "hull out" and leave the state they would not kill him. Tutt was a man of considerable wealth and declared he would not leave the state. He at once hired a young doctor, who claimed to be a very brave man, to act as his body guard, and kept himself very close to the town for about the space of two years. One day, however, he declared that he was going to take a ride out on the main public road for his health. He, in company with the young doctor, then rode out about one mile. On returning, not more than a quarter of a mile from the town, after they had passed the place where they were concealed, they, (the Everts) discharged a volley. Two balls entered the back of Tutt, and his horse made but a few leaps when he fell to the ground. The young doctor ran for dear life, reached the town, and gave the alarm. Parties immediately went out to the place, but found that Tutt was dead. On examining the place where the parties had lain in ambush, they found that they had lain there for months watching for the opportunity. So ended the Tutt and Evert war.