Wild Weather Wednesday: The Great Natchez Tornado of 1840
On May 7, 1840 a massive tornado tore through Natchez, Mississippi. Just the night before the area on both sides of the river, Concordia Parish in Louisiana and Adams County in Mississippi, were drenched with over three inches of rain. With all the rain in the area, farmers wouldn’t be planting that day. Nevertheless, the area around Natchez and Vidalia (across the river on the Louisiana side) hummed with activity.
Historically, southwestern Mississippi had been inhabited by Natchez Indians, perhaps as early as A.D. 700 until the 1730’s. Fort Rosalie was established by the French in 1716. With a fort to provide protection from the Indians, permanent settlements began to spring up around the area. There were, of course, conflicts with the Indians, primarily over land use and resources.
On November 29, 1729 the Natchez tribe, joined by the Chickasaw and Yazoo tribes, attacked Fort Rosalie in what came to be known as the “Natchez Massacre.” Over two hundred French colonists were killed that day and the Natchez seized Fort Rosalie. The French retaliated by massacring an entire village of Chaouacha – a group who had nothing to do with the attack on Fort Rosalie. The French, along with Choctaw allies, began a campaign to conquer the Natchez who were then sold into slavery. By the mid-to-late 1730’s the Natchez had been driven away and forced to live with other tribes.
The Spanish and British had a presence in the area, and after the Revolutionary War British claims were ceded to the United States under the terms of the 1793 Treaty of Paris. The Spanish still maintained at least some control until the 1795 Treaty of San Lorenzo, although it took over two years for the Spanish forces around Natchez to receive word. Their surrender came on March 30, 1798 and a week later Natchez was designated as the first capital of Mississippi Territory.
Although the capital was eventually moved to Jackson, Natchez continued to grow and develop into a hub of economic activity, especially the exportation of cotton. The town’s strategic location on the Mississippi River allowed local plantation owners to have their cotton loaded on steamboats at Natchez-Under-The-Hill for transport either downriver to New Orleans or upriver to St. Louis and beyond. Natchez had a burgeoning slave trade market which also contributed to the area’s economy.
On May 7, 1840 there were scores of boats assembled under-the-hill – steamboats, flat boats, skiffs – not just for cotton export but to trade produce and other goods. Just after noon that day a severe thunderstorm moved through the area, accompanied by another round of drenching rain. Simultaneously, about twenty miles southwest of Natchez, a tornado was forming and headed northeast toward the Natchez-Vidalia area.
The tornado roared along the Mississippi, stripping forests and vegetation on both shores. When the tornado reached Natchez Landing, flat boats were tossed into the river, drowning both crew and passengers. Other boats were tossed onto land and those unfortunate enough to be working along the landing area were also killed. Accuweather.com notes that this was the only tornado in United States history where more people were killed than injured – at least 317 were killed and 109 injured.
Some historians believe the death toll was underestimated since during that period of history slaves were possibly not counted. The Natchez Free Trader headlined the tragic event as “Dreadful Visitation of Providence”. The story was picked up by other newspapers, but in many cases news did not reach the rest of the country for days, even weeks afterwards. The Pittsburgh Gazette finally mentioned the devastating storm on May 20 – almost two weeks after the event, and long before the era of “yellow journalism” when headlines would have “screamed” in massive ALL CAPS sensationalism. Oh what a difference one hundred and seventy-four years makes!
The Free Reader dramatically described the tornado and its aftermath:
About 1 o’clock on Thursday, the 7th inst, the attention of the citizens of Natchez were attracted by an [un]usual and continuous roar of thunder to the southward, at which point hung masses of black clouds, some of them stationary, and others whirling along with under currents, but all driving a little east of north. As there was evidently much lightning, the continual roar of growling thunder, although noticed and spoken of by many, created no particular alarm.
The dinner bells in the large hotels had rung, a little before 2 o’clock, and most of our citizens were sitting at their tables, when, suddenly, the atmosphere was darkened, so as to require the lighting of candles, and in a few moments afterwards, the rain was precipitated in tremendous cataracts rather than drops. In another moment the tornado, in all its wrath, was upon us. The strongest buildings shook as if tossed by an earthquake; the air was black with whirling eddies of house walls, roofs, chimnies [sic], huge timbers torn from distant ruins, all shot through the air as if thrown by some mighty catapult. . . The greater part of the ruin was effected in the short space of 3 to 5 minutes, although the heavy sweeping tornado lasted nearly half an hour. For about five minutes it was more like the explosive force of gunpowder than any thing else it could have been compared to. Hundreds of rooms were burst open as sudden as if barrels of gunpowder had been ignited in each.
Lloyd’s Steamboat Directory, published in 1856, chronicled “Disasters on the Western Waters” and included a story about the Natchez tornado. Although there were always several boats docked in Natchez at any one time, the Steamboat Directory especially noted that: “A tax had recently been laid on flat-boats at Vicksburg, on which account many of them had dropped down to Natchez, so that there was an unusually large number of these boats collected at the last-named city at the time of the tornado.”
The steamboat Hinds was blown into the river and sunk, and all crew members and passengers, except four men, were lost. The Hinds was swept all the way down to Baton Rouge, where it was later found with fifty-one dead bodies – forty-eight males and three females, one of them being a three-year old girl. The steamboat Prairie had just pulled in from St. Louis carrying a shipment of lead. Everything above the deck was swept off and all crew and passengers presumed to have perished. One other steamboat, the H. Lawrence, was sheltered somewhat and although severely damaged was not sunk. One boat, the Mississippian, used as a floating hotel and grocery store, was sunk. Of the one hundred and twenty flat boats at the landing that day, all but four were lost and most of the men who operated them were killed, possibly as many as two hundred.
The Steamboat Directory provided this historical account:
For its violence and destructive effects, this tornado was without precedent in the recollection of the oldest inhabitant of that region. The water in the river was agitated to that degree that the best swimmers could not sustain themselves on the surface. The waves rose to the height of ten or fifteen feet. Many houses in the vicinity of Natchez were blown down, and many buildings in the city were unroofed; the roofs, in some instances, being carried half-way across the river. People found it impossible to stand on the shore. One man was blown from the top of the hill (sixty feet high) and well into the river forty yards from the bank. Heavy beams of timber and other ponderous objects were blown about like straws. Great was the consternation of the inhabitants of Natchez and its neighborhood, and owing to this cause, perhaps, many persons were drowned for want of prompt assistance.
The storm was thought to have been approximately two miles in width since devastation was also seen across the river in Vidalia. While the devastation was immense down at Natchez-Under-the-Hill, the upper part of the city also suffered great damage – hardly a house escaped damage or complete ruin. Homes, hotels and churches were missing roofs or leveled altogether. The Vidalia Court House was “utterly torn down.” While there were many injuries in Vidalia, there was only one fatality. Parish Judge G.W. Keeton was instantly killed while dining with a fellow attorney.
Some citizens were able to make their way to the river and rescue some who were still alive and before their bodies would have been swept down the river. Sorting through the bodies and burying the dead would take some time. In its article, the Free Trader begged the indulgence of their readers while they restored order to their offices. The building was heavily damaged, confusion reigned and residents throughout the city were in shock. The Free Trader summed up the aftermath: “Our beautiful city is shattered as if it had been stormed by all the cannon of Austerlitz. Our delightful China trees are all torn up. We are peeled and desolate.”
The monetary damages were adding up – just days after the storm the Free Trader was estimating at least $1,260,000, close to $30 million in today’s dollars. At that time there was no way to measure a tornado’s strength, but to this day the Natchez storm remains on record as the second deadliest tornado in U.S. history.
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Tombstone Tuesday: Zadoc Bliss
Zadoc Bliss was born on February 11, 1837 in Deersville, Harrison County, Ohio to parents Ralph L. and Sarah Sherrow Bliss. Ralph and Sarah married in Guernsey County, Ohio on April 21, 1836 and Zadoc was their first child, named after his grandfather Zadoc Bliss. Grandfather Zadoc and Grandmother Keziah Bliss were born in Connecticut and traveled as pioneers first to Columbiana County, Ohio and then on to Harrison County in 1824. Zadoc was a direct descendant of Thomas Bliss who migrated to New England in 1635, featured in this Surname Saturday article.
Zadoc and Keziah both received land grants in Harrison County, settling in a wilderness area which they would have to clear and cultivate. At that time, Ohio was considered “far west.” Zadoc was a Whig and a staunch abolitionist. He and Keziah were active members of the Christian (Disciples) Church. One family historian noted that they must have been lovers of music since some of their children conducted “singing schools” and sang in their church – something that would be passed down to their grandson.
Ralph Bliss was the first child and son of Zadoc and Keziah, born in Connecticut. In 1835 he purchased land which had originally been deeded to his father, one year before he married Sarah. Ralph died in Pike County, Illinois in 1863 and Sarah died possibly around 1845.
The first census record where Zadoc’s name appeared was in 1850 at the age of thirteen. Ralph, a farmer, had remarried Mary (surname unknown) and they had one child together, Phebe, Zadoc’s half-sister, along with siblings Eunice, James and Keziah.
Ten years later Zadoc was enumerated in the household of Johnson Hitchcock of Harrison County. I believe he might have been working there that day as a carpenter because his personal estate is listed separately. It’s possible he was related to Johnson Hitchcock since historical records indicate the Bliss and Hitchcock family had intermarried even back to eighteenth century Massachusetts.
In May 16, 1861, Zadoc married Virginia Conn Holmes in Harrison County. Zadoc was a carpenter and the family continued to live near Franklin in Harrison County. In 1864, both sides were having problems conscripting enough able-bodied men to serve in the Civil War. Ohio’s governor, John Brough, offered up to 30,000 Ohio state militia to serve for one hundred days, also known as “Hundred Days Men” or “hundred-dazers.”
On May 2, 1864, Zadoc was mustered into service in Bellaire, Ohio as a private in Company B of the 170th Regiment Ohio Voluntary Infantry, under the command of Colonel Miles J. Saunders. Their first deployment was to Washington, D.C. where they were assigned to garrison duties at forts in the D.C. area. On July 4 they were tasked to Sandy Hook, Maryland to defend Maryland Heights until July 15.
Some companies served in operations in the Shenandoah Valley from July 15 until August 24, while some were sent to Snicker’s Gap on July 17-18 and Rocky Ford on July 18. Parts of the regiment were engaged at the Battle of Kernstown on July 24 and some were tasked with guarding supply trains at Harper’s Ferry until August 24. The 170th was mustered out on September 10, 1864. A total of twenty-four deaths were reported: five mortally wounded and nineteen from disease.
After returning from service, Zadoc and Virginia began their family. Their first child, Sarah Louise (“Lulu”) was born in 1865. Four other children followed:
Mary Alice – 20 Nov 1867
George Thompson – 06 Apr 1872
Lucretia – 13 Jul 1883
Margaret Josephine – 25 Mar 1885
Between 1870 and 1880, the family migrated to Tuscarawas County (Harrison County had been carved from parts of Tuscarawas County). They settled in the town of Ulrichsville, which had been founded in 1804 and officially incorporated in 1866. They were charter members of the Ulrichsville Christian Church. According to one family historian, Zadoc was a “singing Bliss” who loved to sing and possessed a clear tenor voice. There is a clear history of Bliss family musical talents. Philip Paul Bliss, a cousin of Zadoc’s, was a well-known hymn writer and bass-baritone singer, featured in this Hymspiration article.
Nearby was Dennison which was incorporated in 1873, a railroad town halfway between Columbus, Ohio and Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The Pennsylvania Railroad’s offices and railroad shops were located in Dennison and Zadoc was employed there until he retired in 1906.
Virginia died on April 1, 1900 and at aged 63 Zadoc was enumerated as a widower in June of that year. Lucretia (16) and Margaret (15) were still living with their father. His daughters married and remained in Ohio. George was living in Oklahoma Territory in 1898 when he, much like his father years before, was called up for short-term service in the Spanish American War as part of the 1st Territorial Voluntary Infantry. The 1st consisted of volunteers from the territories of Arizona, Oklahoma (Indian Territory) and New Mexico. Less than a month after they mustered in the war ended with an armistice on August 13, 1898, although the unit continued to serve until December 10.
After his retirement, Zadoc lived with Mary Alice (married to Charles T. Johnson) in Dennison, until his death at the age of eighty-seven, on December 4, 1923 (some records indicate he died on December 24, 1924, but official Ohio death records reflect the 1923 date). He was buried in Union Cemetery in Ulrichsville.
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Military History Monday: Hundred Days Men
By 1864 it was becoming increasingly more difficult to conscript enough able-bodied men to fight for either the North or South. Before the war began in early April of 1861, the United States Army had around 16,400 officers and men. On April 9, 1861 a call was made for the District of Columbia to muster ten companies of militia. There was some resistance as evidenced by one company of 100 men: two officers, one sergeant, one corporal, one musician and ten privates refused to muster.
Less than a week later, President Lincoln called for 75,000 militiamen to serve three months. By May he was calling for 500,000 to serve three years. In 1862 there were calls for 300,000 to serve three years and later that year another 300,000 to serve for nine months. As the war continued unabated, calls for more enlistments were issued. Some would re-enlist after their term of service had expired. Even with a large numbers of troop already assembled, Lincoln made a special plea in 1863 and 1864, first to Maryland, Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Virginia.
This article is no longer available for free at this site. It was re-written and enhanced, complete with footnotes and sources and has been published in the April 2018 issue of Digging History Magazine. Should you prefer to purchase the article only, contact me for more information.
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Surname Saturday: Bliss
Bliss
The Bliss surname is believed to have been brought to England during the migration following the Norman Conquest of 1066, possibly a reference to Blois in the Loir-et-Cher region of France. Another place which might be connected to this surname was “Bleis,” located in a region of northwest France, and recorded in 1077.
Families with this surname settled primarily in Leicestershire and Worcestershire, England. Some sources believe the village of Stoke Bliss in Worcestershire was named after the Norman family “de Blez,” notably William de Blez. One home owned by William de Blez in the twelfth century was known as “Stok in Herfordshire,” which then became “Stoke de Blez” and later “Stoke Bliss.” Similiarly, a manor in Staunton on Wye was first named after its landlords “de Bleez” or “de Blees”.
Another source, P.H. Reaney, author of Dictionary of British Surnames, believes the name was either derived from the de Blez family of Normandy or the Middle English noun “blisse,” which of course means joy or gladness. Recorded spelling variations include “Bliss”, “Bleys”, “Blois”, “Bloys”, “Bloiss”, “Blisse”, “Blysse” to name a few.
Thomas Bliss
Thomas, son of Thomas Bliss, Sr., was born in 1583. Like so many who came to New England in the early seventeenth century, Thomas Bliss, Sr. and his family were persecuted for their staunch Puritan faith. After King Charles I re-assembled both Houses of Parliament in early 1628, his sons Jonathan and Thomas, Jr. traveled to London to view the proceedings and to confront Archbishop Laud, one of their persecutors. According to family historian John Homer Bliss, they “remained sometime in the city, long enough at least for Charles’ officers and spies to learn their names and condition, and whence they came; and from that time forth they, with others who had come to London on the same errand, were marked for destruction.”
For their non-conformity they were fined a thousand pounds and imprisoned for several weeks. The elder Thomas was dragged through the streets, and officers of the High Commission also seized their livestock. The three sons of Thomas, Sr., along with twelve other men, were paraded through the marketplace with ropes around their necks, and Jonathan and Thomas, Sr. were thrown in prison.
After enduring intense and relentless persecution, Thomas, Jr. and his other brother George, decided to immigrate to New England. Jonathan aspired to go but his physical health had been significantly weakened due to long imprisonments and damp, unhealthy prison cells; he died without ever seeing America. Jonathan’s son Thomas immigrated in 1636 and joined his uncle who had settled on the south side of Boston Bay. Thomas and his family soon made their way to the Hartford settlement. They were farmers and some of the first original land owners of Hartford. Thomas had several children by his two wives: Thomas, Ann, Sarah, Nathaniel, Mary, Lawrence, Hannah, John, Samuel and twins Hester and Elizabeth, all born in England except the last three.
His daughter Mary married Joseph Parsons, who later became one of the wealthiest men in Northampton, Massachusetts, in 1646. Mary Bliss Parsons, however, had anything but a blissful life – she was accused of witchcraft … repeatedly!
Mary Bliss Parsons
Joseph and Mary Parsons lived for a time in Springfield after their marriage but in 1654 moved to Northampton. Even before the couple married, Joseph had set himself on the path to prosperity and wealth, perhaps due to trading with the Indians. Not yet thirty years old he had already served in various local offices and attained a stature not usually accorded someone of his age.
After arriving in Northampton Joseph continued to prosper as a merchant. He worked with the Pynchon family (perhaps kin of his) who were the principle fur traders in that area, a chartered monopoly actually. He eventually opened a store in Northampton, along with other enterprises such as a grist and saw mill and was licensed to sell liquor. With wealth and success, however, came legal entanglements and Joseph was often in court, suing or being sued.
Some cases involved debt settlement or enforcement of covenants and contracts, but some were of a more serious nature. From Entertaining Satan: Witchcraft and the Culture of New England by John Putnam Demos:
In 1664, for example, he was presented and “admonished” in court for his “lascivious carriage to some women of Northampton.” A few months later he was fined £5 for his “high contempt of authority” in resisting a constable’s efforts to attach some of his property in another case. (Witnesses reported some “scuffling in the business, whereby blood was drawn between them.” Joseph publicly acknowledged his offence, and the court abated part of his fine.) A year later Joseph was fined again “for contemptuous behavior toward the Northampton commissioners and toward the selectmen, and for disorderly carriage when the company were about the choice of military officers.” These cases suggest something of his character and personal style. Defined by his own achievements as a man of authority, Joseph did not easily brook the authority of others. Energetic, shrewd, resourceful as he evidently was, he displayed a rough edge in dealings with others. He was, on all these grounds, a figure to be reckoned with.
Mary, of course, shared in the fruits of her husband’s business acumen and success. Tradition holds that she was remembered in her town as being “possessed of great beauty and talents, but . . . not very amiable . . . exclusive in the choice of her associates, and . . . of haughty manners.” The attributes of “not very amiable” and “of haughty manners” could have been assigned to her as a result of dealings in her own lawsuits and trials for the crime of witchcraft.
Mary had twelve pregnancies (two sets of twins), fourteen delivered and named, and nine children raised to adulthood. Perhaps with her husband’s wealth and success and her own success at bearing and raising children, she was envied by some in her community. At least one source speculates that the community began to circulate rumors of witchcraft, assuming that her husband’s success came as a result of such activity.
One of Mary’s primary accusers, Sarah Bridgeman, was sued by Joseph for slander in 1656. Some believe that Sarah was envious of the Parsons’ success. Sarah’s testimony included her assertion that any time a disagreement or argument had ensued with Mary Parsons or her family, the Bridgeman family would experience some unfortunate and unexpected event such as livestock contracting a fatal disease and dying. In Sarah’s mind, it was Mary’s way of exacting revenge apparently. Sarah also blamed Mary for an injury one of her children sustained, and even the loss of her infant son. This is what Sarah imagined and testified to in court:
I [Sarah] being brought to bed, about three days after as I was sitting up, having the child in my lap, there was something that gave a great blow on the door. And that very instant, as I apprehended, my child changed. And I thought with myself and told my girl that I was afraid my child would die…Presently… I looking towards the door, through a hole…I saw…two women pass by the door, with white clothes on their heads; then I concluded my child would die indeed. And I sent my girl out to see who they were, but she could see nobody, and this made me think there is wickedness in the place.
That must have seemed a bit far-fetched and the court agreed. Sarah’s husband James was ordered to pay a fine of £10 and court costs. Sarah was required to make a public apology. After so convincing a verdict, one would think the matter was settled. However, rumors and accusations persisted for several years. In 1674 Mary was again accused, but this time she was the defendant, and as you might guess, the aggrieved party was the Bridgeman family.
The Bridgeman’s daughter, Mary Bartlett, had died suddenly in August of 1674. She left behind her husband Samuel and an infant son. Samuel Bartlett and James Bridgeman were convinced, and testified to same, that “she came to her end by some unlawful and unnatural means … by means of some evil instrument.” Who else to blame but Mary Parsons?
The trial began on September 29 and Mary no doubt defended herself vigorously. According to Annals of Witchcraft in New England:
The Substance of her Speech was, that “she did assert her own Innocency, often mentioning how clear she was of such a Crime, and that the righteous God knew her Innocency, and she left her Cause in his Hand.”
The court wasn’t convinced yet of her innocence and they “appointed a Jury of soberdized, chaste Women to make diligent Search upon the Body of Mary Parsons, whether any Marks of Witchcraft appear, who gave in their Account to the Court on Oath, of what they found.” Whether or not any evidence was found is not known, but the court deferred action twice until on January 5, 1675 the case was reconvened. Further testimony was held, and curiously, Mary’s son John was accused of witchcraft as well, but dismissed without cause.
Mary was bound over for another appearance in March, secured by a bond of £50 which was paid by Joseph. At the March court appearance, Mary was indicted by the grand jury and ordered to prison until the official trial in May. On May 13, 1675 the official indictment was again read:
. . . in that she had, not having the Fear of God before her Eyes, entered into Familiarity with the Devil, and committed sundry Acts of Witchcraft on the Person or Persons of one or more.
Mary pleaded not guilty and was cleared by the jury. It’s not likely that Mary Bliss Parsons ever escaped the accusations hurled against her for years. Some believe that perhaps she was once again accused in 1679 although there don’t appear to be any records to corroborate that theory. In 1679 or 1680 the Parson family moved back to Springfield, where Joseph died in 1683. He left behind an impressive estate of £2,088. Mary passed away in January of 1712.
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Feisty Females: Martha Jane Canary, a.k.a. “Calamity Jane”
Many stories have been written about today’s “feisty female”, but if based on her short autobiography, it’s debatable whether they are true or not. Generally speaking, she was known for her “wild side” and it was legendary, based on the numerous stories in newspapers across the country beginning in the mid-1870s. Legends of America describes her like this:
she … [grew] up to look and act like a man, shoot like a cowboy, drink like a fish, and exaggerate the tales of her life to any and all who would listen.
The Encyclopedia Britannica backs up that observation: “The facts of her life are confused by her own inventions and by the successive stories and legends that accumulated in later years.”
Martha Jane Canary, a.k.a. “Calamity Jane” was born near Princeton, Missouri on May 1, 1852 to parents Robert and Charlotte. Martha was the oldest of six children. Her father, a farmer, moved the family to Virginia City, Montana in 1865.
In her short autobiographical sketch (written for publicity purposes in 1896), Martha wrote (or dictated – she may have been illiterate) that she spent the majority of the five-month trip with the men of the party – she boasted that hunting, scouting and fording streams provided more excitement and adventure. A sampling of her exploits:
Many times in crossing the mountains the conditions of the trail were so bad that we frequently had to lower the wagons over ledges by hand with ropes for they were so rough and rugged that horses were of no use. We also had many exciting times fording streams for many of the streams in our way were noted for quicksands and boggy places, where, unless we were very careful, we would have lost horses and all. Then we had many dangers to encounter in the way of streams swelling on account of heavy rains. On occasions of that kind the men would usually select the best places to cross the streams, myself on more than on occasion have mounted my pony and swam across the stream several times merely to amuse myself and have had many narrow escapes from having both myself and pony washed away to certain death, but as the pioneers of those days had plenty of courage we overcame all obstacles and reached Virginia City in safety.
Her mother died at Black Foot, Montana in 1866, before the family reached its destination, and was buried there. Martha and her remaining family departed sometime during the spring of that year and headed to Utah where she remained until her father died in 1867. She doesn’t mention it in her “memoir” but it’s possible she was in charge of her siblings, being the oldest child. Her life is so sketchy and often misrepresented (primarily by her own account) it’s difficult to determine. In the July-August 2003 edition of the American Cowboy magazine, the article speculates that her siblings were adopted by Mormon families while she began her career as a wild-west drifter.
By that time she was an attractive fifteen-year old young woman, who chose to dress in men’s clothes, pulling her hair up under a big hat and further taking on the appearance of a man or older boy. If her own self-proclaimed exploits are to be believed, she worked for the Union Pacific Railroad, an ox cart driver for the Army, wagon train packer and mule skinner. It’s likely she worked whatever job she could find including dishwasher, cook, nurse, and some say prostitute.
After departing Utah, with or without siblings, she headed to Fort Bridger, Wyoming. In 1870 she claimed to have joined up with General Custer’s outfit as a scout. She remarked, “[W]hen I joined Custer I donned the uniform of a soldier. It was a bit awkward at first but I soon got to be perfectly at home in men’s clothes.”
After wintering in Arizona in 1871, she returned to Wyoming to serve during the Army’s engagement with the Nez Perce – or “Nursey Pursey” as she called them in her memoir. During that campaign she earned her sobriquet, “Calamity Jane”. Her version of the event:
It was during this campaign that I was christened Calamity Jane. It was on Goose Creek, Wyoming, where the town of Sheridan is now located. Capt. Egan was in command of the Post. We were ordered out to quell an uprising of the Indians, and were out for several days, had numerous skirmishes during which six of the soldiers were killed and several severely wounded. When on returning to the Post we were ambushed about a mile and a half from our destination. When fired upon Capt. Egan was shot. I was riding in advance and on hearing the firing turned in my saddle and saw the Captain reeling in his saddle as though about to fall. I turned my horse and galloped back with all haste to his side and got there in time to catch him as he was falling. I lifted him onto my horse in front of me and succeeded in getting him safely to the Fort. Capt. Egan on recovering, laughingly said: “I name you Calamity Jane, the heroine of the plains.”
American Cowboy indicated that the Captain said, “Jane, you’re a wonderful little woman to have around in a time of calamity.” One other version speculates she was given the name by the editor of the Laramie Boomerang – for her presence at various calamities in the form of shootouts and street brawls.
After a brief illness in 1876 while serving with General Crook (who was on his way to join Custer at the Little Bighorn), she headed instead to Fort Laramie where she became acquainted with James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickok. The two of them then traveled together to Deadwood, South Dakota.
Some historians surmise that Jane and Hickok had a romantic relationship. If you go to her entry on the Find-A-Grave web site, someone has created that illusion, linking to his entry as her spouse, as well as them having a child together. However, another friend of Wild Bill’s, “Colorado Charley” Utter, declared that “Wild Bill would have died rather than share a bed with Jane.” She was also rumored to have been a friend of the mysterious and exotic Eleanore Dumont, a.k.a. “Madame Moustache.”
After arriving in Deadwood, she worked as a Pony Express rider between Deadwood and Custer. On August 2, 1876, Hickok was gambling at a saloon when he was shot in the back of the head by Jack McCall. McCall would later claim that he was avenging the killing of his brother in Abilene, Kansas at the hand of Wild Bill. The jury found McCall innocent of the charge of murder. McCall left for Wyoming but just a short time later it was determined that the Deadwood trial had no legal basis since it was located in Indian Territory. He was re-arrested in Laramie on August 29, charged with murder and transported to Yankton, South Dakota to be re-tried. This time he was found guilty and hanged.
Calamity Jane’s version is “somewhat” different:
On the 2nd of August, while setting at a gambling table in the Bell Union saloon, in Deadwood, he was shot in the back of the head by the notorious Jack McCall, a desperado. I was in Deadwood at the time and on hearing of the killing made my way at once to the scene of the shooting and found that my friend had been killed by McCall. I at once started to look for the assassin and found him at Shurdy’s butcher shop and grabbed a meat cleaver and made him throw up his hands; through the excitement on hearing of Bill’s death, having left my weapons on the post of my bed. He was then taken to a log cabin and locked up, well secured as every one thought, but he got away and was afterwards caught at Fagan’s ranch on Horse Creek, on the old Cheyenne road and was then taken to Yankton, Dakota, where he was tried, sentenced and hung.
She remained in Deadwood working the mining camps surrounding the area. When a smallpox plague broke out she helped to nurse people back to health, so she had a tender side. She, however, was still rough around the edges and a brawler who hung out with gunslingers and other disreputable characters.
Another one of her legendary exploits occurred in 1877 while she was riding to Crook City. She came upon a stagecoach that was being pursued by Indians. As she pulled alongside the stagecoach she noticed that the driver was “lying face downwards in the boot of the stage,” having been mortally wounded by the Indians. After the coach pulled up to a station, she took over the reigns of the coach and continued onto Deadwood with the six passengers and the dead driver.
By the mid-to-late 1870’s, Calamity Jane was beginning to make a name for herself, or at least by the legend of her exploits. Her name began to appear in newspapers beginning as early as 1875. Here, though, it’s still difficult to separate fact from fiction. One of the first newspaper accounts I found was in the Chicago Daily Tribune on June 19, 1875, declaring that hers was the same old, old story:
Calamity was a few years ago the respectable proprietress of a millinery store in Omaha. Calamity was good looking, and yielding to drink she soon became a homeless outcast, and as a natural result found herself out on the frontier repenting for a few months, and hiring out to do housework, then being found out, returning to her vicious life, until the next periodical fit of repentance came on.
Nevertheless, she seemed to be, at least in the minds of newspaper readers, whatever the newspaper chose to report, true or not. She apparently roamed all over the West for several years. In 1882 she took up ranching near the Yellowstone River and ran a “way side inn”. She vacated the ranch the following year and went to California, later traveling back to Utah and then back to San Francisco in 1884. In the summer of 1884 she headed to Texas, arriving in El Paso sometime in the fall. There she met Clinton Burke, a native Texan, and the two were married in August 1885. She gave birth to a baby girl on October 28, 1887.
She and her family left Texas in 1889 and moved to Boulder, Colorado where they ran a hotel. In 1893 the Burkes were again on the move, traveling throughout the West: Wyoming, Montana, Idaho, Washington, Oregon and South Dakota. Her notoriety, and her exploits breathlessly reported across the country, must have gained her respect and awe through the years. I found one short obituary in the Council Grove Republican (Kansas) for a young child:
Died in Cowley county – the place of her birth – Calamity Jane, only child of Adversity Greenback and Calamity Howler. The child was only two years old, and died of that dreadful, dire, depressing disease, wind colic.
After meeting an agent of the Kohl & Middleton Dime Museum, she came under their management, promoted as the “Greatest of Attractions: Pioneer New Woman”. At some point, I believe she and her husband must have parted ways. American Cowboy reported that the two divorced and her child was raised in a convent. Here too, it is debatable as to what really happened – some accounts claim she was married as many as a dozen times!
At some point, perhaps as early as 1893, she worked for William “Buffalo Bill” Cody’s Wild West Show as a storyteller and sharpshooter. She was still drinking and carousing freely, however, and was later fired. She found a place to sober up only to return to the bottle and brawling. In early 1901, newspapers were reporting her plight when she was admitted to the Gallatin County (Montana) Poorhouse:
Apparently she found a benefactress, however, who was willing to help. Mrs. Josephine Windfield Brake of Buffalo, New York came to her rescue after finding Jane in “the hut of a negress at Horr, near Livingstone” (Montana). Mrs. Brake, an author and correspondent for a New York newspaper, had heard of Calamity’s plight. Headlines proclaimed that Jane liked the change and would spend the remainder of her days in comfort – except that isn’t how it played out.
She made her way back West after her job at the Pan American Exposition (World’s Fair) in Buffalo didn’t work out. She had been working a rather sedate job selling books and receiving a commission. When she became suspicious of her share of the profits, she decided to join the Midway instead. One night she went on a drunken spree and tried to shoot up the whole Midway, which landed her in jail.
By the summer of 1903 she had arrived back in South Dakota. In January of that year she had gone on a rampage, as the Waterloo Press headline proclaimed: “Takes a Freak and ‘Shoots Up’ Town of Sheridan, Wyo.” After arriving in Sheridan she had begun to “load up with liquid enthusiasm.” Next on her agenda was “shooting up the town.” When her ammunition supply was spent, the town marshal put her on a train and sent her on her way. The newspaper noted that although she had been taken in by a Buffalo woman, “the life of an eastern city was too tame for a woman who had fought Indians and ‘plains’ whisky for years.”
After arriving back in South Dakota, she was taken in by Madam Dora DuFran, proprietor of a brothel in Belle Fourche. There Jane worked as a laundress and cook. In early August she was living in a small room in Terry, near Deadwood, and on August 2, 1903, Calamity Jane died. The Cincinnati Enquirer reported that her last dying request, despite having had twelve husbands, was “that she be allowed to sleep by the side of the man she first loved” – Wild Bill Hickok.
The Enquirer also reported that she had “sent her daughter away for her own good.” Her friends begged her, during her last days, to reveal her daughter’s name but she refused – “Let her be,” she said. The newspaper speculated that the cause of Calamity’s decline and eventual demise was that during her fifty-one years, the “real Wild West was born and died. Its passing left her forlorn.”
She may have been a rough-and-tumble character, but the Enquirer reported that through those years she retained two “womanly traits”:
While she might be drunk one day and chasing Indians over the prairie another, she never missed an opportunity to put on skirts and diamonds at a dance. The next morning she would be ready for a trip with the Government mail, or perhaps would be cracking the bottles in a saloon with well aimed bullets. But she would stop abruptly even the incomparable pleasure of “shooting-up” a saloonful of miners bristling with guns, if some one should report a case of sickness. She never refused to go even great distances to nurse the sick back to health.
If one can manage to separate fact from fiction, such was the legend of Martha Jane Canary, a.k.a. “Calamity Jane.”
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Wild Weather Wednesday: The Great Flood of 1913 (Part Two)
By the morning of March 24, headlines reported news of the first devastating wave of weather that had first impacted Omaha, Nebraska (see last week’s article). A tornado later roared through Terra Haute with at least two dozen killed. Even though the articles reported at least ninety dead in Omaha and twenty-four in Terra Haute, the headlines proclaimed HUNDREDS KILLED:
Nebraska, Missouri, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Michigan and Oklahoma had already been affected by the storm. By the time newspapers hit the streets on the 25th the death toll was being reported to have risen to 225 with over 750 injured. Damage estimates for Omaha were thought to be at least twelve million dollars.
The first story of flooding appeared on the 25th as well. After the tornado, Terra Haute was inundated with rain and flooding which caught both rural and city dwellers by surprise. Residents were already fleeing their homes as the flood waters surged. Thousands of acres of land were underwater with rivers and creeks out of their banks and levees breached. To prevent looting, the State Militia began boat patrols in devastated areas.
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Tombstone Tuesday: Henry Collis and Zipporah Chandler Rice – Sodom Laurel, NC
Henry Collis and Zipporah (Chandler) Rice were both born and raised, lived and died, in Madison County, North Carolina in the heart of Appalachia. They are both buried in Rice Cove, a family cemetery. Their ancestors came from England, perhaps some from Scotland. Folklorist Bascom Lamar Lundsford called Madison County “the last stand of the natural people.” In 1917, ethnomusicologist Cecil Sharp described life in Madison County in his book English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians:
The region is from its inaccessibility a very secluded one. There are but few roads – most of them little better than mountain tracks – and practically no railroads. Indeed, so remote and shut off from outside influence were, until quite recently, these sequestered mountain valleys that the inhabitants have for a hundred years or more been completely isolated and cut off from all traffic with the rest of the world.
This article has been snipped and no longer available here. It was enhanced and included in the January-February 2021 issue of Digging History Magazine.
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Motoring History: Henry Ford (Part Three)
Henry Ford, with only an eighth grade education, always valued hard work. He did, however, make sure that his only child Edsel received a good education at a prestigious Detroit all-boys school. As a young boy, Edsel had followed his father around the plant, much to the delight of Henry – to see his son in coveralls and getting his hands dirty was what he expected.
All along he was being groomed to run the company someday. However, after Edsel graduated he preferred to spend time with the Detroit well-to-do crowd, marrying into one of the most prominent families in Detroit. Eleanor Clay’s uncle was the founder of the Hudson’s Department Store. The differences in Henry and Edsel were striking – Henry was a highly disciplined individual who neither drank nor smoked and Edsel had a taste for the high life.
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Surname Saturday: Rhys and Rice
These two surnames, Rhys and Rice, share similarities. First of all, both are of Welsh origin. Secondly, both can be traced back to the Celts (or Britons) who once lived in the Moor of Wales. Thirdly, both are derived from the old Welsh forename “Ris”, which means “ardour”. Spellings variations for both include: Rice, Rhys, Rees, Reece and others.
Spelling variations of these Welsh surnames might have been due to the challenge of converting them from Welsh to English. The Welsh used the Brythonic Celtic language which contained sounds for which there was no direct translation – the sounds didn’t exist in the English language. In addition, often a family might change their surname, even if slightly, to denote a religious or patriotic affiliation. It seems reasonable to believe that “Rice” is the Anglicized version of “Rhys”.
The Rice surname was brought to Ireland by Welsh settlers and today there are still many Rices in Ireland. Earliest Welsh records mention a person named “Hris” (no surname, however) in 1052. In the Domesday Book of 1086, the result of a survey ordered by William the Conqueror, the surname is listed as “Rees”.
The Rhys surname literally meant “the son of Rees.” Records document a person by the name of “William Rys” who lived in County Somerset during Edward III’s reign. Edward Reece, who lived in County Hereford, enrolled at Oxford in 1601. Stories of other notable people with either the “Rice” or “Rhys” surname follow – one a Welsh Baptist minister who immigrated to America in the late eighteenth century, and the other, one of the earliest Rice immigrants to come to America.
Rev. Morgan John Rhys
A quote from Rev. Morgan John Rhys: The Welsh Baptist Hero of Civil and Religious Liberty of the 18th Century:
Dr. Armitage said that Morgan John Rhys was “the Welsh Baptist Hero of Religious Liberty.” Dr. Lewis Edwards, of Bala, Wales, said that he was “a man who had consecrated his life to fight against oppression and tyranny and that he excelled as a defender of civil and religious liberty,” and the Rev. J. Spinther James, M.A., says “that he was a man far in advance of his age, and that he was nor properly known nor properly appreciated by the age in which he lived, nor the one that followed. He was one of the few Welsh who belonged to that class that started the ball of the reformation to roll in Europe. Inasmuch as that ball in its course struck the British government and shattered it, so that the American colonies became free forever, and inasmuch as it also struck the oppressive monarchy of France, so as to cause the great revolution there, so that the English government was so possessed with the fear that the lives of all who advocated liberty were in danger.”
That quote is quite an assignation – to say that someone who lived the majority of his life in Wales was influential in liberating the colonies from British tyranny, as well as plant the seeds of discontent which led to the French Revolution.
Morgan John Rhys was born on December 8, 1760 to parents John and Elizabeth Rees of Graddfa, Llanfabon, Glamorganshire, South Wales. Because his father was a well-to-do farmer, Morgan received the best possible education available at that time. After joining the Baptist Church of Hengoed, he also began to preach. Then it was on to Bristol College in August 1786 to further his education before accepting his first pastorate as an ordained minister at Penygarn Baptist Church. One source called him a “radical evangelical” – his sermons were themed with principles of parliamentary reform and he was also strongly anti-slavery.
He went to France in 1791, believing that the Revolution was an open door to spread the Gospel in that country. He apparently had great success – not long afterwards the Bible was being translated into French. Upon his return to Wales in 1792 he opened a book store and print shop. After speaking at a meeting of churches later that year, he preached in both the Welsh and English languages during the same sermon. In that same meeting, he proposed that money be raised in order to distribute French Bibles.
At the next year’s meeting he urged churches to establish Sunday Schools to teach the young ones how to read the scriptures. With his printing press, he published a book entitled “A Guide and Encouragement to Establish Sunday Schools and Weekly, in the Welsh Language through Wales, with lessons easy to learn, and principles easy for children to understand; and others who are illiteral.”
It was said of Morgan Rhys that when he came up with a good plan he would work to put it into practice quickly. He continued to press the need for Sunday Schools at the 1794 meeting. He also had plans to publish a hymnal. Then something abruptly changed Morgan Rhys’ life.
While meeting with some friends privately at a Carmarthen hotel near the end of July, he was informed that a man had entered the hotel and inquired about his whereabouts. The gentleman hinted that he had been sent from London to arrest Morgan Rhys. When Morgan learned of the plot, he bid his friends a sorrowful goodbye, and on August 1, 1794 he began his journey to America.
When he finally reached New York on October 12, he was met by the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Philadelphia, who was also the Provost of the University of Pennsylvania, the Rev. Dr. Rodgers. The two formed a friendship and almost immediately Morgan returned to the ministry and was met with great success. According to the biography cited above, “He was followed by admiring crowds wherever he spoke, and preached Christ with an earnestness and an unction, but rarely witnessed since the days of Whitfield.”
As he traveled and preached, he was mindful of finding a suitable place to settle and establish his own colony. He married Ann Loxley of Philadelphia and after living there for two years, he and Ann bought a large tract of land which they named Cambria. The seat of the county would be Beulah. In 1798 he removed to Beulah with other Welsh immigrants where he served as both a landlord and pastor of the church in Beulah.
He later left Beulah and moved to Somerset, county seat of Somerset County. Soon afterwards he accepted an appointment as Justice of the Peace for Quemahoning Township, Somerset County, and later as an Associate Judge in the same county. He served in various civil offices until his sudden death on December 7, 1804. Morgan John Rhees (he had changed the spelling of his name after arriving in America) left behind a widow and five children. As death neared he remarked to his wife, “The music, my love, it is so sweet; do you not hear it?” When his wife said she did not hear it, he said, “Oh, listen – now – now – the angels sing come waft on high, we wait to bear thy spirit to the sky.”
Edmund Rice
Edmund Rice was born in Suffolk, England in approximately 1594. He was a deacon at his local parish, but in 1638 he left England and was one of the early immigrants who joined the Massachusetts Bay Colony. Although it is not recorded why he and his family left, many people who immigrated at that time did so because of religious persecution.
He and his wife and children (seven at least) set out on their journey. Upon arrival with his wife and children, he perhaps first lived in Watertown, Massachusetts. Not long afterwards he helped found the town of Sudbury, and in 1656 he was one of thirteen founders of the town of Marlborough.
After being made a freeman on May 13, 1640, Edmund served Sudbury as a selectman and was ordained as a deacon in 1648. He also became the largest landowner in Sudbury and served in the Massachusetts legislature for five years. Part of his civil duties included laying out roads in Sudbury.
On June 13, 1654, his wife Tamazine (or Thomasine) died. He remarried the following year on March 1 to Mercy Brigham, a widow. When he and other petitioners were granted the right to form the new town of Marlborough, he and his family moved there. Communal farming was practiced in Sudbury, but that practice was apparently not agreeable to Edmund Rice and twelve other dissenters. When Marlborough was established it was specifically organized to be a place where only individual ownership was practiced.
Edmund was elected as selectman in 1657 and every year thereafter until his death on May 3, 1663. Edmund and Thomasine together had ten children: Mary, Henry, Edward, Thomas, Lydia, Matthew, Daniel, Samuel, Joseph and Benjamin. Edmund and his second wife Mercy had two children: Lydia and Ruth.
One of Edmund’s grandsons, Jonas Rice, founded Worcester, Massachusetts. The descendants of Edmund Rice began meeting annually in 1851. Several genealogies have since been published and in 1912 his descendants organized the Edmund Rice (1638) Association (ERA). The following year a marker was erected and dedicated near his home in Sudbury (now Wayland). The Association was incorporated in 1934 and four years later an updated genealogy was published. ERA continued its research and by 1968 26,000 descendants had been verified.
In 2013, using a statistical model, it was estimated that the 12th generation alone contained 2.7 million descendants. Generations 1-12 totaled 4.4 million. When allowing for spouses of half that number would bring the total to almost 7 million. When parents of spouses are added in, the astonishing total is near 10 million. No wonder genealogy is such a tedious and time-consuming effort!
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Feudin’ and Fightin’ Friday: Turk-Jones Feud, aka “Slicker War”
This Ozark Mountain feud was carried on much like the more famous Appalachian Hatfield-McCoy feud, encompassing the Missouri counties of Benton and Polk. Benton County was a newly organized county when two families, the Joneses and Turks, migrated from Kentucky and Tennessee, respectively. Colonel Hiram Turk came to Benton County with his wife and four sons: James, Thomas, Nathan and Robert, settling in an area known as Judy’s Gap.
The Andy Jones family settled along the Pomme de Terre River, a tributary of the Osage River. Jones and his sons had a penchant for gambling, horse racing and were suspected of counterfeiting. They were said to be coarse and likely illiterate as they always signed their names by a mark.
Colonel Turk, as he was called, had served in the Tennessee militia and was said to have been full of buck shot. A businessman in Tennessee, he also opened up a general store and saloon in the recently-designated county seat of Warsaw. Although his family was generally described as being courteous and well-educated, they also had a reputation for being “quarrelsome, violent and overbearing” (A Sketch of the History of Benton County, by James H. Lay).
Tensions between the two families began on Election Day in 1840 when Andy Jones walked into Hiram’s store, which was being used as a polling place. Jones started an argument with James Turk about a horse race bet. A fight ensued as Hiram and his other sons joined in and his son Tom pulled out a knife. No one was seriously injured but the Turks were charged with inciting a riot and committing assault.
Earlier that year James Turk had attacked a man by the name of John Graham, seemingly unprovoked, near Judy’s Gap. John Graham was a prominent member of the community and on the day following the attack he personally wrote a note to the Justice of the Peace:
February the 19 day – 1840.
mister wisdom sir please to come fourth with to my house and fetch your law books and come as quick as you can as I have been Lay waid by James turk and smartley wounded sow that I Cant Come to your house and is A fraid that he will Escape. JOHN GRAHAM.
When a warrant was issued for James Turk’s arrest a posse arrested him, but Turk refused to go to Graham’s house for the trial – and Graham refused to be in Turk’s presence until he was officially disarmed. Justice Wisdom ordered James to be disarmed and when he stepped in to assist, Hiram intervened and Tom Turk drew his gun on the officers of the court. The Turks and their friends took James home.
A warrant was then issued against the Turks for springing James from custody. Justice Wisdom had James bound over for the assault of John Graham, Tom for rescuing James, and Hiram for the rescue and threatening John Graham. In court, Hiram accused the Justice of malicious prosecution, whereupon the judge fined him twenty dollars. According to James H. Lay, “[T]hese proceedings aided in planting the animosity that took shape in the Slicker war.”
Back to the Election Day brawl. A few days later Tom, James and Robert Turk were indicted for inciting a riot and Hiram and James were indicted for assaulting Andy Jones. In December the three boys were convicted of starting the riot and fined one hundred dollars. Hiram and James’ trial was delayed, however, until the April 1841 term.
The Circuit Court convened on April 3, 1841. Abraham Nowell, a prominent and respected citizen of the community, was the chief witness against the Turks. Nowell was on his way to court with Julius Sutliff, a neighbor of the Turks, when James Turk assaulted him. Abraham Nowell, in self-defense, grabbed Sutliff’s gun and killed James Turk.
Nowell, fearing Turk family retribution, fled the area only to return in September to turn himself into the Sheriff. He was arrested and posted bail awaiting trial in April 1842. Nowell was acquitted, possibly on the strength of testimony against James Turk. One witness, John Prince, testified:
I heard James Turk say that Mr. Nowell was a main witness, and never should give in evidence against them, that he intended to take the d____d old son of a b____h off his horse and whip him, so he could not go to court. Turk further said that if they took the case to Springfield he would have him (Nowell) fixed so he never would get there.
During the spring of 1841 when James was killed, Hiram and Tom had filed a number of “nuisance” lawsuits against their neighbors. After James was killed the tensions between the Turks and Joneses heated up again.
A relative of the Joneses, James Morton, had killed an Alabama sheriff in 1830 and fled to Benton County. On May 20, 1841, a bounty hunter by the name of McReynolds brought indictment papers to the attention of the Benton County sheriff. The sheriff, however, was unconvinced that the evidence was sufficient to warrant Morton’s arrest.
The reward for Morton’s capture was four hundred dollars and McReynolds, determined to bring Morton to justice, recruited the Turks to assist him. The Turks were successful in capturing Morton. After turning him over, McReynolds took Morton back to Alabama where he was acquitted, later returning to Missouri. Meanwhile, Hiram Turk had been charged with kidnapping (charges later dropped).
Of course, this escalated the animosities between the two families. Andy Jones and his family vowed revenge on the Turks. In early July 1841, Jones entered to an agreement with some of his friends to kill Hiram Turk. They went so far as to draw up a binding agreement among all co-conspirators – anyone who divulged the secret plot to kill Hiram would himself be killed.
On July 17 Hiram Turk was ambushed, shot from the brush as he rode through a hollow. Upon being shot, he fell off his horse and exclaimed, “I am a dead man!” Even though he was attended daily by a doctor, he never fully recovered. He lingered for a few weeks and died at his home on August 10, 1841.
Since the Circuit Court was still in session, Andy Jones and several of his friends were indicted for the murder of Hiram Turk. On December 9, 1841, Andy Jones was acquitted, the jury deciding that there was insufficient evidence to convict him. One friend, Jabez Harrison, later confessed that he and Andy, along with three other men were hiding in the brush. He accused Henry Hodges of firing the shot. Some of the co-conspirators, including Hodges, fled the area.
The unsuccessful attempt to convict Andy Jones of Hiram’s murder was when the so-called Slicker War began in earnest (as if these two families hadn’t been seriously feuding for quite some time!). The Turks would not be satisfied until they had exacted their own brand of “frontier justice,” driving the Joneses out of the Ozarks.
So why was it called the “Slicker War”? “Slicking” was a form of punishment common in the Ozarks, perhaps brought by settlers who migrated from Tennessee. Emboldened by the spirit of vigilantism, the Turks took it upon themselves to exact punishment on anyone related to or aligned with the Joneses. Their preferred method was “slicking” – the victim was captured, tied to a tree and whipped with a hickory switch. One way or the other they were determined to get a confession from someone as to who really killed their kin.
Each side formed their own alliances. Just like Andy Jones had made a binding agreement with his friends to kill Hiram Turk, Tom Turk made a similar one with thirty or so of his friends. To make it more palatable, they publicly declared their purpose was to drive out horse thieves, counterfeiters and murders – so who would that be?
The Joneses formed their own alliance known as “Anti-Slickers” for, after all, they had to defend themselves. As it turns out the “Anti-Slickers” were no better than the “Slickers” – they weren’t above using the exact same tactics. In reading the detailed account given in A Sketch of the History of Benton County, one almost needs a score card. The feud even drew members of the community not related to either the Turks or Joneses into the fray. “These slickings threw the whole County into excitement, and the feeling was so intense that the entire community took sides in sentiment with one party or the other, and many good citizens openly favored each side and gave them aid in their law suits.”
By the way, the Turks also got their revenge for Abraham Nowell’s acquittal for killing James Turk. On the morning of October 18, 1842, they shot him dead as he was coming out of his house to fetch some water. Meanwhile, the slickings continued, each side determined to drive the other out of the country.
The feud ended, or at least died down, after the state arrested thirty-eight Slickers for their part in attacking an innocent farmer, Samuel Yates. The case never went to trial. Tom Turk was later killed by one of his own posse members. Andy Jones fled to Texas and Nathan Turk followed him. When Jones was arrested for stealing horses, Nathan’s testimony helped convict him – he was found guilty and hanged.
Nathan Turk would later be killed in a gunfight in Shreveport, Louisiana. Mrs. Turk and her remaining son Robert returned to Kentucky. According to James H. Lay, “She is said to have deeply deplored the violence of her sons and husband. Her share in this bloody drama is unwritten, but it is hard to conceive of a heavier burden of woe than fell to her lot.” Indeed.
The practice of “slicking” was picked up by other would-be vigilante groups. Some residents of Lincoln County, in the eastern part of Missouri, used “slicking” to ostensibly rid their communities of horse thieves and counterfeiters. Unfortunately, several innocent people lost their lives as a result. As the saying goes, “time heals all wounds” – with the passage of time, the practice of “slicking” faded away and ended the Slicker Wars of the Ozarks.
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