The last feud in Breathitt County, during which the most horrible assassinations were committed, was the Hargis-Cockrell-Marcum-Callahan vendetta.
The Hargises and the Cockrells claimed that the name is a misnomer—that no feud existed.
Capulet once said: “The Montagues are furnishing all the trouble and we are only innocents slaughtered.”
Montague said: “The Capulets are making the war. We are only defending our lives and property.”
An apt quotation, here.
A political race first engendered the bitterness which led to the murders narrated later on. In this race the Democratic candidates were elected, at least declared to have been elected. Their ticket was headed by James Hargis for county judge and Ed. Callahan for sheriff.
The fusion ticket, which was defeated in toto, contested the election, alleging fraud.
At that time one J. B. Marcum and O. H. Pollard were partners in the practice of the law. Marcum had accepted a fee for the contestants, the fusionists, and Pollard for the Democratic contestees.
Marcum and Hargis were said to have had a difficulty about a year prior to this contest, but the breach between them seemed to have been healed. Marcum had been attorney for the Hargises for a number of years.
It appears that during the taking of depositions in the contest case the first open rupture occurred. What actually transpired has been told in conflicting stories. It seems that Marcum, Pollard, James Hargis and Ed. Callahan were in Marcum’s law office. They differed in regard to some testimony of certain witnesses and nearly came to blows. Pistols were drawn by some of the men and Marcum ordered each and all from his office.
Police Judge Cardwell issued warrants. Marcum at once surrendered and paid his fine.
Hargis declared his refusal to appear before Judge Cardwell, whom he regarded as an enemy, and had so considered him for years. He therefore surrendered to Magistrate Edwards, a personal friend. A controversy arose as to Justice Edwards’ jurisdiction in the matter. The dispute threatened to create still further trouble, to allay which Mr. Marcum moved the case against Judge Hargis to be dismissed, which was done.
Here starts the war. In making the arrest of Judge Hargis, the town marshal, Tom Cockrell, assisted by James Cockrell, his brother, were said to have drawn guns on Hargis and that only the intervention of Sheriff Callahan prevented the two from killing Hargis. This the Cockrells indignantly denied. They asserted that in making the arrest of Judge Hargis they had used no more force than was necessary. Hargis swore they would pay for their audacity in drawing a gun upon his person, and he made good his threats, that is, others did make it good for him.
Numerous unsavory charges now began to be made first on one side and then the other. Marcum at one time charged Ed. Callahan with assassinating his, Marcum’s, uncle, Capt. Bill Strong, who was shot from ambush in front of his home in either 1898 or 1899.
Callahan in turn charged Marcum’s uncle, the deceased Capt. Bill Strong, with the assassination of Wilson Callahan, the father of Sheriff Callahan. Each faction charged the other with the murder of some one.
Shortly after this occurred a pistol duel between Tom Cockrell and Ben Hargis, in which the latter was shot and killed on the spot.
The two had met at a “blind tiger” saloon in Jackson and quarreled, with the result that both drew their pistols and fired upon each other. Before Hargis sank dying to the floor, he had succeeded in seriously wounding his antagonist.
The Hargises at once began an active prosecution of Cockrell and kept it up.
Dr. Cox had married a kinswoman of the Cockrell boys and had also become their guardian, both of them being under age. The Cockrells were also related to Marcum, who had volunteered in Tom Cockrell’s defense for the killing of Ben Hargis. Marcum also was an intimate friend of Dr. Cox, who practised in Jackson and vicinity.
Not long after the killing of Ben Hargis another brother of Judge Hargis met his death at the hands of a man charged by the Hargis clan as being a Cockrell man. John Hargis was the man slain; “Tige” was his nickname. He was killed by Jerry Cardwell.
Hargis had boarded the train at Jackson on his way to Beattyville. Cardwell was the train detective. It is claimed that Hargis had been drinking and became disorderly. The conductor in charge of the train asked Cardwell to preserve the peace. As soon as Cardwell entered the car Hargis sprang to his feet and drew his gun. Cardwell and he fired simultaneously. Cardwell was wounded, Hargis shot through the heart. The Hargis clan always claimed that the killing of John Hargis was the issue of a well-laid conspiracy with the Cockrells at the bottom of it. They attempted to connect them with the shooting, but nothing ever came of it.
Dr. Cox, guardian and kinsman of the Cockrell boys, and J. B. Marcum, their cousin, were intimate friends and frequently discussed the foreboding aspect the community was taking on. Rumors came to them frequently now that they were marked for assassination. At first neither Dr. Cox nor Marcum gave them much credence. Finally, about the first of April, 1901, Marcum went to Washington on business. While there, Dr. Cox was assassinated. Marcum was convinced that he, too, was marked for death.
The proof in the case shows that Dr. Cox had left his home about eight o’clock one night to make a professional call. The conspirators had for many nights been watching his movements. He had almost reached the corner of the street diagonally across from the court house, and directly opposite Judge Hargis’ stable, when he was fired on and he fell dead, riddled with small shot. After he had fallen to the ground the assassins fired another volley into his body and easily escaped.
There was persistent rumor at the time of the killing that the shots had been fired from Hargis’ stable, but witnesses were afraid to swear positively about anything. Indictments against parties for the murder were not returned until some time afterwards.
It has been told that Judge Hargis had been heard to laughingly say, after the fall of Dr. Cox, “Great Scot! didn’t he bellow like a bull when that shot hit him?”
While people in town entertained their own opinions as to the guilty parties, but refused to express them, the Cockrells openly charged Hargis with complicity and of having hired the assassins that committed the cowardly murder, and maintained, seemingly with good reasons, that Dr. Cox’s only offence had been his friendly relation with the Cockrells and his interest in the defense of Tom Cockrell on the charge of the murder of Ben Hargis.
The next victim of the assassin’s bullets was Jim Cockrell. He was murdered in 1912, in broad day, from the court house.
Jim had been active in collecting evidence for his brother in his coming trial for the Ben Hargis murder. Rumors had come to him that he would be killed if he did not desist. He continued, however, and ignored the warning.
By this time the Cockrells, Marcum and many other residents of the town kept closely within doors at night. No one traveled the streets without a lantern. This might have been some protection for absolute neutrals, but must have been only an increasing source of danger to those who had grounds to fear for their lives. Confinement at home was therefore the best and the only reasonably safe policy.
Cockrell was shot at noon, July 28th, 1902, from the second floor of the court house.
He was standing on the opposite side of the “Temple of Justice,” talking to friends, when the shots were fired that took his young life. He was not dead when taken from the street. He was hurriedly removed to a hospital at Lexington the same afternoon, where he died on the following morning. Cockrell was town marshal at the time of his death.
Curtis Jett was later on indicted for the murder, together with others, and convicted, but not until after the death of Marcum was it that these prosecutions were set on foot. Marcum had repeatedly declared before his death that he had ample evidence to prove that Jett and two others fired the shots that killed Cockrell, and that the assassins had remained concealed in the court house the remainder of the day and made their escape at nightfall.
Jett and Cockrell had been enemies for some time prior to the murder. The week before the two had fought a pistol duel in the Arlington Hotel’s dining-room. Neither was wounded, friends interfered, and the affair ended without arrests being made. Curtis Jett was a deputy sheriff under Ed. Callahan.
Capt. John Patrick, a fugitive “from injustice,” as he put it, went to Lexington and there gave out a statement to the effect that he, one McIntosh and others had seen and recognized the Cockrell murderers. Patrick then left the country, but offered to return and testify if sufficient protection was afforded him. He did return and testified in the succeeding trials, although he dodged the officers sent after him for some time.
McIntosh was taken before the grand jury, but refused to testify. He was remanded to jail for contempt of court and remained there for four days. When finally he made up his mind to talk, he testified that he knew nothing whatever of the matter.
In the meantime, Jim Cockrell’s brother Tom had secured a change of venue to Wolfe County, to be tried there for the murder of Ben Hargis. The trial was to take place at Campton. Cockrell was taken there under an armed guard of twelve men. He was himself given a gun for defence.
When the trial was about to begin Judge Hargis refused to have anything further to do with the prosecution of the case, alleging that the transfer to Campton was but a scheme to assassinate him on the road thither.
In the meantime Marcum had become a voluntary prisoner at his home. Clients that wished to see or consult him went to his house to do so. He appeared on the streets of the town but few times.
His fears were laughed at by some; the Hargis faction, including Callahan, pronounced him a coward. His end proved the correctness of his judgment and how well founded had been his fears.
The story of plots and conspiracies against his life, his many marvelous escapes from assassination, were graphically told by himself but a short time before his death. The interview occurred in Lexington on November 14th. He told the same story to the writer with whom he had been on intimate terms of friendship.
The story told to the Lexington reporters and given out in the press was as follows:—
“I will begin my story with last March (1902) when persistent rumors had it that Doctor Cox and I were slated to be assassinated.
“Dr. Cox and I discussed these rumors frequently and I finally came to the conclusion that they were groundless. I went to Washington and stayed a month. While I was there Dr. Cox was assassinated.
“I was attorney for Mose Feltner. On the night of March 30th he came to my home in Jackson, and stated that he had entered into an agreement with certain parties (naming them) to kill me and that his accomplices were to be three men whom he also named.
“He said that their plan was to entice me to the office that night when they would kill me. He said he had been provided with a shotgun and $35. to get me. He displayed the gun which was a new one, had never been shot, and also exhibited to me the money. I know he did not previously have the money.
“A few mornings later Feltner took me to the woods near by and showed me four Winchester rifles concealed there, and stated that he and three companions had been leaving them there in the day time and carrying them about at night to kill me with.
“Of course he did not intend to kill me, but by pretending that he would assassinate me certain persons, he said, would guarantee him his acquittal in the coming trial for the killing of Jesse Fields.
“He continually led them on in this belief to secure his own protection and immunity in the Fields murder case against him. At the same time he continually warned me of the various plans perfected to kill me.
“On the following morning after Feltner first warned me of my danger, I sent my wife and little boy by way of a deep ravine two hundred yards from my house in good rifle range. This was the only place where assassins could conceal themselves and kill me at my house, for by this time I had ceased visiting my office, and their only chance was to kill me at my house. It was early in the morning when my wife and little boy arrived at the ravine. They saw four men carrying guns run away. My son recognized two of them, but did not recognize the other two, one of the latter, Feltner told me afterwards was himself.
“Finally, I decided to leave Jackson. In the early evening I went to the Arlington Hotel with my wife and made arrangements to be rowed across the river to the tunnel early the next morning and board the train unobserved. Later in the day Feltner came to my room and stated that the party I had seen had told them that I was preparing to leave town, and that thereupon certain high officials of the county placed four men at the depot, two men at the tunnel and two men at the railway station to kill me.
“I took his word and did not attempt to leave town. I sent the next morning for my wife and baby, and carried the baby in my arms to my office, and at noon from there to my home.
“I was later informed by Feltner that a party was waiting in the upper rooms of a store to kill me. He wanted to shoot me with a rifle, but others insisted that he use a shotgun, saying that Doctor Cox had been killed with a shotgun. After I passed by they asked the man with the shotgun why he didn’t shoot, and he answered that with a shotgun he would have killed the baby, but if they had let him have his way and he had been given a rifle, he would have shot me through the head without endangering the baby.
“The night previous to my decision to leave Jackson my sister came to me and warned me that another plan had been formulated to kill me. Her informant was Mose Feltner, who was engaged until at a late hour in discussing the best plan. When this meeting had adjourned it was then too late to come to my house. So he went to my sister’s house in his sock feet and told her.
“I was awakened at daybreak Sunday morning, June 15th, by a messenger who had ridden eighteen miles that night to bring me a note from a friend who was also a friend of my enemies and who was in their counsels. The note stated that two men would come to town the following Tuesday morning; that court would adjourn at noon and that an attempt would then be made to assassinate me in the afternoon. I knew the men had been out of town but was inclined to disbelieve their statement because I had not heard that court would adjourn on Tuesday, in fact, I had every reason to believe that it would not adjourn until Saturday. I asked every member of the bar in regard to this and their unanimous opinion was that court would not adjourn until Friday evening or Saturday morning. This also was the opinion of the circuit court clerk.
“Tuesday morning I sent my friends ahead and slipped out to Day Brothers’ store near the court house, they having reported that the coast was clear. Then I found out that the men selected to kill me had sure enough arrived in town.
“I returned home at ten o’clock, for it was then getting too close to my funeral time, if reports I had were true. Court adjourned just as the clock struck twelve on Tuesday.
“I do not mean to cast any reflections upon the judge. You can explain it to suit yourself. But I assure you I kept to my room that day.
“On another occasion I slipped away to visit my sister’s house. On the way I met a sympathizer of those whose enmity I had incurred. I decided not to return and sent my two sisters and wife ahead. They passed a ravine on the way and there saw two men with guns. Later, after they had turned out their lights, they observed one man take his station in front of my house, and the others, all heavily armed and dressed as women, below my window in an adjoining garden.
“Last Sunday morning a messenger came to my house at daylight. He had been sent by a neutral party who did not want me killed. He told me that two men had arrived the night before and were to have taken a front room in a house near by and from there ambush me. The next morning I observed the window raised about four inches and the curtain drawn, in which position the curtain and the window have remained since. The men occupy rooms in that house and I suppose the front rooms. I have not been even on the porch since I received that message.”
Marcum at one time had succeeded in escaping from Jackson. He remained away for some time. But when the leading officials of the county laughed at the idea that he would be in the least danger if he returned, he believed them. Lured by the reports that he would not be molested, and having considerable interests at stake, he returned home and went to his death.
Both Judge Hargis and Callahan gave out statements to the press to the effect that Marcum would be as safe at Jackson as anywhere. In the light of what occurred, this statement may have been true. The statements were ambiguous, susceptible of various constructions. He may have been as safe at Jackson as elsewhere, for it is quite possible that assassins were at his heels wherever he went.
On Monday morning a messenger from a distant part of the county rode hot haste to Jackson to warn him of renewed attempts upon his life. The messenger did not reach him in time. When he found him the bloody work had been accomplished—Marcum was dead.
The story of the assassination is horrible and pathetic. As has been said, despite all warnings Marcum had begun to feel safe again and resumed his interrupted law practice. He had business at the court house in connection with the reopening of the contest cases.
At eight o’clock Monday morning, May 4th, 1903, he proceeded to the court house with affidavits for filing. From the clerk’s office he walked to the front door of the court house, and, facing the street, engaged in conversation with his friend, Capt. B. J. Ewen.
The corridors stretching out at his back were full of men. Marcum was leaning on Ewen’s shoulder. The two men had been conversing for possibly three minutes, when, at 8.30 A. M., a shot rang out in the rear of the corridor. Marcum staggered and as he sank to the floor another shot fired. The first shot entered his back and the ball came out through the breast. The next shot passed through the top of his head and was doubtlessly aimed as he reeled.
Just before the shots were fired, one Tom White passed Marcum at the door and gazed into his face in a manner calculated to draw Marcum’s attention. As White had passed, Marcum turned to Ewen and said: “That’s a bad man and I am afraid of him.”
The body of Marcum lay where it had fallen for at least fifteen minutes before any of his friends dared approach it.
Marcum’s wife, on hearing of the murder of her husband, rushed to the court house, knelt by the side of the body and in the blood and brains that had spattered the floor, drenched her handkerchief. What sort of a vow she made then may be imagined. We shall draw the curtain over the scene of sorrow and grief at the home of the murdered man. He left a wife and five children.
Marcum had been a practising lawyer for seventeen years. He was, at the time of his death, a trustee of the Kentucky State College, a United States Commissioner, and represented the Lexington & Eastern Railway Company as well as other large corporations in a legal capacity.
THE REIGN OF TERROR.
Immediately after the assassination of Marcum, and for a long time afterwards, conditions at Jackson were terrible.
There was consternation among all who had in the least degree incurred the enmity of the tyrants who now controlled both county and town. Judge Hargis appeared in the newspapers with a lengthy accusation against the dead man Marcum, practically declaring that the assassination was a good deed and deserved.
Many relatives of Marcum, the Cockrells and their sympathizers, left town and sought refuge elsewhere.
No one dared travel the streets of Jackson at night who was not sure of the protection of those who held it in their grasp. Churches were deserted; for many months no services were held.
It was with the utmost difficulty that any person could be brought to even speak of the matter in any way. Everybody was suspicious of everybody else.
In the meantime the murderers were still at large. No earnest effort had been made by the “authorities” to apprehend them. It would not have been difficult to have done so, for it was an open secret as to who they were. The difficulty lay in getting witnesses to talk. Some of these left town and placed themselves beyond the jurisdiction of the court, and absolutely refused to return unless protected by troops.
B. J. Ewen, who was with Marcum at the time of the murder, had at first declared that he did not know who the assassins were. Judge Hargis and Sheriff Callahan admitted that they saw the slayer in the court house corridor but had failed to recognize him. Then, like a thunderbolt from a clear sky, came the announcement that Capt. Ewen had decided to tell the facts as he knew them, even at the risk of his life. He did so, charging Jett with the actual shooting of Marcum, and Tom White as an accessory.
The Hargis faction laughed at this declaration, hinted broadly at perjury, pointing to the fact that Capt. Ewen had already stated he did not know the assassins, and that therefore his declaration was not entitled to belief.
Ewen explained his change of attitude in the matter by saying that, at first, he had decided to keep his knowledge to himself, for his own protection, but that since then he had come to the conclusion that it was the duty of a citizen, who respected the law, to tell what he knew, even if he risked his life in doing so. He told the story, time and again, without a tremor,—outwardly at least.
Jett was arrested at Winchester without a struggle and taken to Jackson. The Governor at once forwarded troops to the ill-fated town and martial law continued there for several months.
The presence of the troops somewhat reassured the citizens. Many of those who had departed returned. The grand jury assembled and jointly indicted Curtis Jett and Tom White, who had also been arrested.
Many exciting events took place during the presence of the troops at Jackson, but order was gradually restored and people took heart. Services at the churches were resumed, after months of suspension.
In the midst of one of the trials Capt. Ewen, who lived in camp with the troops, not daring to return to his own fireside, saw his house, his home, the fruit of many years of labor and saving, go up in flames.
It was not accident. It was the reward for his fidelity to good citizenship and his willingness to tell the truth.
Ewen also declared that bribery had been attempted by certain parties. Later on the matter was aired in the courts, but nothing ever came of it. Ewen removed from Jackson after the trials.
No one acquainted with the situation in Breathitt at that time doubted for a moment that Jett and White were but the tools of men higher up. It is not our province to make charges based upon mere rumor, but this may be said without fear of contradiction—that the testimony brought out at the various trials which followed established utter corruption on the part of those whose duty it was to see to it that the guilty parties were brought to justice.
These “officers” stood idly by, permitted men to be shot down while calmly watching the proceedings, and made no attempt whatever to arrest them. When outside pressure and extraneous influence and help at last forced investigations and the criminals were apprehended and brought to the bar of justice, these “officers” visited the murderers in jail, supplied them with delicate food, money and counsel, consulted witnesses, hunted up persons willing to serve as defense witnesses for a consideration, drilled them, tutored them, and through intimidation and threats of death forced men to commit the crime of perjury to save the necks of the assassins.
Let us cite an example: A young man of previously good repute, a school teacher, was indicted in the Harrison Circuit Court at Cynthiana, where the trials of Jett and White occurred, for having sworn falsely as a witness for the defendants. He was found guilty as charged. When the judge pronounced sentence, the convicted man broke down completely and admitted his guilt, but pleaded in extenuation of his crime that high officials of Breathitt County, enemies of Marcum and Cockrell, had coerced him into becoming a witness for the defense and had drilled him for hours so he would make no blunders in the prepared testimony.
His story had the true ring about it. So pathetic was the story told by the young man, that both judge and State’s attorney instantly released the man on his own recognizance, although he asked to be sent to the penitentiary, where he might be reasonably safe from assassination.
Let us see where the County Judge Hargis, and Sheriff Callahan were at the time of the Marcum assassination. Let us examine their actions; they speak louder than words. The reader may draw his own conclusions and arrive at them without assistance.
Both the county judge, Hargis, and Sheriff Callahan hated Marcum and had been his sworn enemies for a long time. The statements of Feltner made by him to Marcum from time to time implicated both these officials as the chief conspirators, although Mr. Marcum at the time he gave out his statement to the press, refrained from quoting their names. He had, however, done so to the writer on several occasions.
At the time of Marcum’s assassination Judge James Hargis and Sheriff Callahan were seated comfortably in front of the Hargis store. (Probably the seats had been reserved in advance so as to be certain of not missing any scene or act of the tragedy.)
They had an unobstructed view of the court house door, were bound to have seen what occurred there, yet continued to sit unmoved, and never made the least effort to locate or ascertain the assassins. They appeared not in the least disturbed, certainly exhibited no surprise. Why should they? The conclusion is irresistible—but we shall let the reader draw it.
Capt. Ewen testified that he was standing at the side of Marcum when he was killed. Marcum was leaning heavily upon his shoulder. Just before the shots were fired Tom White passed by the two men, turned and gazed into Marcum’s face. Marcum said “that’s a bad man, and I’m afraid of him.” The next moment the shots were fired.
As White passed Marcum the latter turned his back to the rear of the corridor and the witness Ewen turned with him. This put his face to the rear of Marcum and he recognized Curtis Jett and saw him standing there with a pistol in each hand.
Marcum having fallen to the floor, Capt. Ewen stepped out of doors to save his own life. The position of Jett and of his gun made Ewen believe that he would be shot next. A few moments later Jett appeared at the side door of the court house, looked out, then walked calmly down the steps and mingled with the crowd.
Tom White, so the testimony of other witnesses shows, was standing in front of Day Brothers’ store just before the murder. An acquaintance invited him to take a drink. He refused, saying he had not time, that he was looking for a man. He caught sight of Curtis Jett, motioned to him, and the two entered the side door of the court house. White then passed on through the corridor to the front door, and in the manner detailed attracted Marcum’s attention, while Jett took his position behind him. White immediately turned to the side of the front door to escape the bullets he knew would be coming.
After the murder Jett and White came immediately together again at or near the jail and walked down the street unmolested.
Tom White had come to Jackson several days before the murder, ostensibly to secure work, but only one man was introduced to prove that he made any sort of attempt to obtain employment. Jett and White were seen together before the shooting and immediately afterwards.
It was the contention of the Commonwealth that the defendants had been hired to do the murder. One need only read the statement of Marcum to see with what hellish coolness and deliberation these plots had been arranged.
The defense was precluded, of course, under the circumstances, from relying upon the plea of self-defense, so it proceeded at once to hatch up an alibi. This, however, proved so transparent a fabrication that the jury ignored it altogether and promptly returned a verdict of guilty against both of the accused. The sentence was for confinement in the penitentiary for life. But for the persistency of one juror, who refused to join in a death verdict, they would have been hanged, perhaps.
Curtis Jett was a sworn officer of the county at the time of the murder of Marcum, a deputy under Sheriff Callahan. He was proven guilty also of the assassination of Cockrell by shooting him from the court house, the temple of justice, prostituted and turned over to the service of murderers by those in control of it.
Jett’s record previous to these assassinations was bad. Twice he had been accused of rape, had repeatedly been confined in jail on various other charges, for shooting at persons with intent to kill, for malicious shooting and wounding and had been indicted for the ruin of a young girl. He was a moral degenerate. His very appearance proclaimed to the physiognomist the cruel, heartless nature of the man. His chin was short and receding, the cheek bones prominent, hair bristly red, eyes deep set and countenance scowling and bad.
Jett had been for a time confined in the Louisville jail until his trial at Cynthiana. While in prison he had given the jail officials no end of trouble on account of his violent disposition toward the other prisoners. One and all feared him.
After his removal to the penitentiary he pursued similar tactics for a time, but there they broke him. He is still confined and is now said to have become a model prisoner. It is said he intends to preach after his release,—it must be remembered that a life sentence in Kentucky does not mean confinement for life.
Judge Hargis and Callahan were in due time arraigned for various murders in connection with the feud. Although Curtis Jett, John Abner, John Smith and Mose Feltner (who figures so prominently in the Marcum statement), confessed in one way or another that the accused were the leaders in the assassinations of Dr. Cox, Cockrell and Marcum, the chief conspirators, for whose benefit the murders were done and who had furnished the sinews of war—money and ammunition—they were acquitted.
The widow of James B. Marcum, regardless of the verdicts of acquittal rendered in the various murder trials of Hargis and Callahan, brought suit in the civil courts and secured a judgment against them for several thousand dollars for having been the instigators of the murder of her husband. The judgment was paid without appeal.
RETRIBUTION.
“He that sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.” This threat was fulfilled to the letter in the cases of both Judge Hargis and Sheriff Callahan. Both men died with their boots on.
Judge Hargis was shot and killed at his store in Jackson in the winter of 1908 by his own son, Beach Hargis. The young man was indicted for murder February 18th, 1908, tried and found guilty. He escaped the death penalty, and received a life sentence, but is already at large, having been paroled 1916.
The judgment of the court was appealed from and strenuous efforts were made by the widow of the slain man to secure a new trial and save her son from conviction for the murder of her husband. Hers was indeed a pathetic situation. Mrs. Hargis employed the best counsel obtainable. Senator William O. Bradley, a lawyer of national fame, argued the case exhaustively before the Court of Appeals. The judgment of the lower court was affirmed.
The case was one of widespread interest. The facts and circumstances attending the murder appear at length and are commented upon in an opinion of the Court of Appeals, written by Judge Hobson, and reported in 135 Kentucky Reports.
Judge Hobson, in his statement of the case, says:—
“The proof for the Commonwealth on the trial showed in brief these facts:—
“On the night before the homicide Beach Hargis had gone to his father’s store and asked one of the clerks for a pistol. The clerk declined to give him a pistol out of the stock, but told him that his father’s pistol was there in a drawer of his desk and he could take that. The defendant secured the pistol, but said nothing to his father, although he was then in the store. The next morning between nine and ten o’clock the defendant was sitting in the barber shop. His face was swollen. He told the barber that his father had hit him in the mouth and hurt him there. A man who looked like his father passed. He raised up in the chair, threw his hand back and said: ‘I thought that was the old man.’ About an hour later he drank a bottle of Brown’s Bitters, and said to a bystander: ‘Did you hear about the old man mashing my mouth?’ and added that it was hard to take. Some two hours later he appeared at a drug store kept by his brother-in-law, Dr. Hogg, drew his pistol, and was waving it about, pointing it in the direction of a bystander and his brother-in-law. From this drug store, after a few minutes, he went to his father’s store. It was a double storeroom. His father was in one room and he entered the other and took a seat in a chair not far from the front door. While he was sitting there in a chair, a man in the other room asked his father where Beach was. His father pointed him out to the man and said: ‘There he sits. I have done all I can for him and I cannot go about him or have anything to do with him.’ A few minutes later his father said to another man who was in the room: ‘I don’t know what to do with Beach. He has got to be a perfect vagabond, and he is destroying my business, and if Dr. Hogg let’s him stay there he will ruin his business.’ After saying this to the man the father walked in the direction of where the defendant was sitting. There were a number of persons in the store. As his father approached, the defendant got out of his chair and walked around behind a spool case that was setting on the end of the counter. No words were spoken. The first sound that anybody heard was the report of a pistol. His father was then about three feet from him. A struggle ensued between them, during which the pistol was shot four times more, all five of the shots taking effect in the father. Persons in the store ran up, and when they got to them the father had the son down and had the pistol, which he handed to one of them, saying: ‘He has shot me all to pieces.’ The father died in a few minutes.
“The proof for the son was in substance that the father came up to him, struck him in the face, and began choking him. When he felt his eyes bulging out, he drew his pistol and shot him, and his father continuing to choke him, he fired the other four shots in the struggle; the last two being fired from the floor. The proof for the defendant also showed that the father was drinking. Taking all the evidence, we think it reasonably clear that the father was unarmed and that he was shot by the son while he was approaching him, and before he had touched him. Two witnesses who were on the outside of the store, were looking through the windows, and their testimony, as well as the testimony of persons in the store, confirms this conclusion. We think it also reasonably clear that the son was maudlin drunk, and but for this the unfortunate homicide would not have occurred. He showed that he was under the impression that his father had left the store, and that he went there to meet an uncle, but expecting no difficulty. He also showed that about a week before his father had beat him unmercifully with a ramrod, that previous to this he had whipped him with a rope, and on the last occasion had struck him in the mouth with his fist, and got upon him on the floor and churned his head against the floor; that he had taken his pistol from him, and had threatened to shoot him with it and had been prevented from doing this by the interference of bystanders, and that he had then declared he would kill him. There was also evidence that the son had said that the old man had beaten him up, but that he would never get the chance to do it again. Also that he had declared when his father had taken the pistol from him when drunk, that every time he got drunk and was having a good time, they had to do something to him, and that he aimed to kill his father and certain other persons whom he named.
“The defendant offered to prove by his grandmother and others that his father had taught him to carry a weapon, encouraged him to drink whiskey, and had caused him to associate with disreputable men, thus rearing him in a manner calculated to bring about the result which followed.”
The lower court refused to permit this testimony and the Court of Appeals affirmed the ruling in this as in practically all other respects.
To the opinion of the court Judges Barker and Nunn dissented. Certain excerpts of Judge Barker’s opinion are of prime importance here and corroborate what has been said concerning Judge Hargis in even stronger language than we have employed.
This opinion says (in part):—
“James Hargis is shown in this record to have been a savage, cruel man; that he had a high, vindictive temper, and allowed neither fear, nor remorse, nor pity to come between him and the objects of his passionate resentment.... James Hargis was a man of violence and of blood. He had established in the county of Breathitt a reign of terror under the influence of which the law was paralyzed and its ministers overrun. He is pictured as a man of gigantic frame, savage temper and indomitable courage. He had surrounded himself with armed mercenaries, whose minds he inflamed with drink, and who seemed to be willing to do his bidding even to the point of assassinating his enemies without fear of the consequences of their crimes and without remorse or pity for the result.
“He had not only broken down the law and terrorized its officers, but he had made the temple of justice itself the rendezvous for assassins who, sheltered behind walls, reddened its portals with the blood of its votaries. He literally ingrafted upon the civilization of the twentieth century the savagery of the fifth, and introduced into a community of law and order the merciless ferocity of the middle ages.”
ED. CALLAHAN GOES UNDER.
The other leader of the Hargis faction, Ed. Callahan, died as violently as did the victims which he has been accused of sending to their deaths.
The assassination took place Saturday, May 4th, 1912, in the middle of the forenoon, at Crocketsville, a village some twenty miles from Jackson.
Some two years before a similar attempt had miscarried, although Callahan was then seriously wounded.
It has already been stated that Mose Feltner, John Smith and others had in their confessions implicated Ed. Callahan and Judge Hargis in various murders. After the confession John Smith had been released from custody on the murder charges against him, and he became the bitter, unrelenting enemy of Callahan and Hargis. John Smith was accused with several others of shooting and wounding Callahan from ambush. Callahan escaped death then by a narrow margin. From that time on he felt that his end was near. He had been heard to say on several occasions that his enemies would eventually get him, and they did.
After this attempt on his life he fortified his home and yard with a palisade. It was so arranged that he could pass from the store to his home under the protection of this stockade. But just two years later even these precautions failed to save him. He was shot from an ambush across the narrow valley while in his store. He stood practically on the same spot when killed as he had been standing two years and one day previous when he was shot from the same place and seriously wounded.
After the murder the Commonwealth found much difficulty in ferreting out the murderers, or to secure proof which would convict them in a court of law. Rumor readily pointed out the guilty men, but the State could not rest its case on rumor alone. It must have competent evidence.
In the difficult task of securing it the Commonwealth was ably assisted by a daughter of the murdered man. She, in fact, had taken the initiative in the matter, rode fearlessly and untiringly night and day making inquiries, listening, watching, employing spies to assist her, until at last a number of men were arrested and held in the toils of the law.
The men indicted were “Fletch” Deaton, Dan Deaton, James Deaton, Dock Smith, Elisha Smith, Asberry McIntosh, Andrew Johnson, Abe Johnson, Billy Johnson, Abe’s son, Willie Johnson, John’s son, “Red Tom” Davidson, John Clear and Tom Deaton, Bill’s son.
The story of the conspiracy which resulted in Callahan’s final removal from earthly activities, is a long one. It reads like a dime novel. The setting of the story is dramatic. The court’s opinion traces almost step by step the various movements of the conspirators.
There are about seven principal places that figure in this tragedy (quoting in substance the opinion): The home of Ed. Callahan on Long’s Creek, about one mile from the Middle Fork of the Kentucky River; Abe Johnson’s residence on the same river, about three or four miles above the mouth of Long’s Creek; the town of Buckhorn on the Middle Fork River, about two miles above Abe Johnson’s home; the home of John E. Deaton, at the mouth of Caney on the North Fork of the Kentucky River; James Deaton’s home on Caney Creek, about two miles above its mouth, and the town of Jackson, the county seat of Breathitt County, located further down the North Fork, are the principal places referred to.
Fletch Deaton resided in Jackson; Callahan conducted a general store next to his residence on Long’s Creek, twenty miles from Jackson.
Two years and one day before the killing of Callahan he had been shot and dangerously wounded by unknown persons concealed on the hillside directly across the creek from the store.
The palisade built after that extended from his residence to the rear of his store so that he could pass from one to the other without being seen from the mountain across the creek.
The murder occurred on Saturday, May 4th, 1912, about the middle of the forenoon. On the Sunday before he went from his home in a gasoline boat in company with Clifton Gross, his son-in-law, to Athol, a railroad station on the Middle Fork of the Kentucky River, and thence on the following Monday he went to Jackson, which was the home of Fletch Deaton and of his codefendants, Red Tom Davidson and Govan Smith. Callahan was seen on the streets of Jackson on that day by several people. He left Jackson on the train at 2.20 P. M. for Louisville to buy a spring stock of goods for his store. His presence in Jackson, as well as his departure for Louisville and the purposes of his visit, were well known in Jackson. Several of the defendants who lived on the Middle Fork, had gone down the stream on timber rafts and on their return by way of Jackson saw Callahan at the railroad station at Beattyville Junction on his way to Louisville. It was Callahan’s habit to ship his goods to Elkatawa, on the Lexington & Eastern Railroad, where he would place them on freight boats and take them up the river to the mouth of Long’s Creek, thence on wagons to his home. He usually accompanied the goods in person.
Several years ago Fletch Deaton’s brother, James Deaton, was killed at the mouth of Long’s Creek in a fight, and Ed. Callahan and several other persons were jointly indicted for that killing, but with his usual luck escaped punishment for he was acquitted. Fletch Deaton aided in the prosecution of Callahan, and bad blood had existed between them since that time.
Furthermore, shortly before the killing of Callahan in May, 1912, John Davidson, a nephew of Fletch Deaton, and a brother of “Red Tom” Davidson, and Levi Johnson were killed at Buckhorn, in Perry County. Four men were jointly indicted for these murders. Fletch Deaton and several of the others indicted with him for murdering Callahan assisted and took an active part in the prosecution of the men charged with the murder of Davidson and Johnson. Callahan was accused by them of complicity in those murders and of aiding the defendants to escape punishment. Fletch Deaton had been heard to say on various occasions that it would be impossible to secure the conviction of the slayers of Davidson and Johnson so long as Callahan was alive, and that he must be killed before those cases came up for trial.
Again it developed in the proof that Jase Deaton, Fletch Deaton’s nephew, and Red Tom Davidson, also accused of killing Callahan, were tried in the Bourbon Circuit Court on the charge of killing John Abner in the town of Jackson several years before, and that Callahan had been active in the prosecution against them, employing counsel and supplying money.
It further appears that Jase Deaton referred to above had been killed at the home of Anse White, some while before the killing of Callahan, by Anse White. White was tried for this killing in the Montgomery Circuit Court and also acquitted. This acquittal had been attributed to the activity in behalf of White on the part of Ed. Callahan.
The proof on the trial of Fletch Deaton and of Andrew Johnson showed that Callahan came to his death at the hands of three men, who had concealed themselves on the mountainside across the creek from Callahan’s store. One of the witnesses for the prosecution testified that he recognized Dock Smith and Andrew Johnson as two of the assassins, that he saw a third, but failed to recognize him. Dock Smith himself testified that the third man was James Deaton of Caney Creek, a son of Fletch Deaton.
All the trials of the men accused of the murder of Callahan were held at Winchester, Clark County. In each of the cases, with the exception of the one against Red Tom Davidson, the defense relied upon alibis, claiming that they were in Jackson on the day of the killing.
Dock Smith and Govan at the critical moment, realizing their situation, made a full and voluntary confession of all they knew regarding the murder of Callahan.
As heretofore stated, Callahan was shot on Saturday forenoon. On the preceding Wednesday, about two o’clock P. M., Dock Smith met Andrew Johnson on the Middle Fork just below the mouth of Gay’s Creek. Johnson there told Dock Smith that James Deaton wanted Dock and Andrew Johnson to help kill Callahan, and for Dock to go to Deaton’s house that night. Smith says that Johnson asked him if he had a gun, and he told Johnson that his gun was at his father’s; that Johnson then told him he would go back home to Granville Johnson’s, and would meet Smith there that night; that Smith went to his father’s, got his gun, ate his supper, and then went to the mouth of Orville’s branch and there met Andrew Johnson, Willie Johnson, Tom Deaton and Billie Johnson. From that point Smith and Andrew Johnson proceeded to the house of James Deaton on Caney Creek, which they reached late in the night, finding James and Dan Deaton there. That night the four discussed the proposed killing of Callahan. James Deaton told his confederates that on the next morning he would go to his father’s at Jackson, and learn from him, Fletch Deaton, what definite plans had been made about the killing of Callahan, and would get “Red Tom” Davidson’s Savage rifle. The next morning, Thursday, James Deaton and Dan Deaton left James Deaton’s house and went down Caney Creek towards John E. Deaton’s, Dock Smith and Andrew Johnson remaining at James Deaton’s.
Late on Thursday evening James Deaton came home from Jackson riding “Red Tom” Davidson’s mule, and brought along a gun which he said belonged to Red Tom. After supper Smith, Johnson and James Deaton left the latter’s residence, Dock Smith riding and carrying the gun, Johnson and Deaton on foot. They proceeded to the home of John E. Deaton, where they met Bob Deaton, another of the accused. Here Bob joined them in the expedition. The four then went to Abe Johnson’s, on the Middle Fork, about three miles above the mouth of Long’s Creek, arriving there after midnight on Friday morning.
Friday was spent around Abe Johnson’s. At noon they sent for Dan Deaton, whom they had left at the home of James Deaton on the morning of Thursday. Dan responded, and all of them again discussed plans for the murder of Callahan. James Deaton told Abe Johnson and Billy Johnson that his father, Fletch Deaton, wanted them to come to Jackson on the train Saturday morning, so they could be there as witnesses to prove the alibi, and that Willie Johnson was to come with them. It was arranged that Dock Smith, Andrew Johnson, Bob Deaton and Dan Deaton were to go down to the Grand Sire Rock on the Middle Fork, below the mouth of Long’s Creek, to watch for Callahan and Anse White, who were expected to come up on Callahan’s boats on that day. This arrangement was carried out.
Before starting, however, they procured two quarts of whiskey, and drank about half of it before they left Abe Johnson’s, about two o’clock on Saturday morning. Abe Johnson, Billie Johnson and Willie Johnson went to Jackson; and the other five men, Dock Smith, Andrew Johnson, James Deaton, Dan Deaton and Bob Deaton, went toward Long’s Creek. All had guns. Before leaving Abe Johnson’s they procured a bucket of provisions, and went by the home of Granville Johnson, where they procured another bucket of provisions. There they boarded Granville Johnson’s boat and started down the river, but the boat began to leak, and being too small to carry them all, they procured another boat. At the mouth of Long’s Creek the boats were abandoned. From there they went to the home of Willie Deaton, son of James Deaton, to inquire whether Callahan had returned home, and were told that Callahan had left the boats and gone home the evening before. After borrowing a gun from Willie Deaton, Dan and Bob Deaton went to the Grand Sire Rock for the purpose of watching for Callahan’s boats and to kill Anse White, who had remained in charge of them.
In the meantime Dock Smith, Andrew Johnson and James Deaton went to the hillside across the creek from Callahan’s store, arriving there shortly before daylight on Saturday morning. They placed themselves at a point where they could see the front of Callahan’s store. Two of them prepared forks about 18 inches long, which they drove in the ground to use as rests in shooting, one of them piling up some rocks upon which to rest his weapon. They watched for Callahan until between nine and ten o’clock, without catching sight of him.
The front of Callahan’s store contained a glass window, and they could see the outline or form of a man passing behind the window on the inside of the store. Concluding that the shadow thus cast must be that of Callahan, they fired six shots through the window, three of them taking effect and mortally wounding him. Then the assassins became panic-stricken and left the places of concealment hurriedly, going through the backwoods to the home of Abe Johnson, where they got their dinner.
After dinner “Trigger Eye” Deaton carried them across the Middle Fork River, and from there to John E. Deaton’s home, where they arrived shortly after dark. By devious routes the three assassins reached Jackson and the home of Fletch Deaton shortly before daylight Sunday morning. There they found a number of the men present who were to serve as witnesses to establish an alibi for the slayers.
The alibi was, however completely broken down by witnesses for the Commonwealth, with the result that a number of the conspirators are now doing time in the State penitentiary. This closes the chapter on the Hargis-Cockrell-Marcum-Callahan feud, one of blood, terrorization, Dark Age savagery in the twentieth century; in the very midst of our country which prides itself upon a civilization superior to that of other countries.
But for the blunder the despots committed in slaying Marcum, whose prominence and the peculiarly atrocious circumstances of his murder at last forced a thorough airing of conditions, they might have gone on unmolested, continued the record of assassination, and have added many more pages of blood to the county’s history.
The prosecution of the slayers of Marcum, Dr. Cox, James Cockrell, Judge Hargis and Ed. Callahan was prompt and energetic. It shows a return of a more healthy public sentiment. Yet, murders are entirely too frequent in Breathitt, and in Kentucky at large, for that matter.
Breathitt has been termed “the plague spot of the Commonwealth.” It cannot wipe out the past; what has been done is done. But it may yet redeem itself by making such horrors as we have depicted here, impossible in the future.
There is a fine citizenship in the county. It has suffered much, and deserves sympathy along with censure. It is up to the good people to see that peace and order return and is maintained henceforth and forever. We trust they will never more submit to unbridled crime and anarchy. It is up to them to prove themselves American citizens by exerting true patriotism at home.
CONCLUSION.
It would be erroneous to conclude that the history of Kentucky’s famous, or notorious feuds is completed here. The material at hand has, unfortunately, not been exhausted by any means.
While the Hatfields and McCoys fought to the death in Pike County, Kentucky, and along the borders of West Virginia, a bloody drama was being enacted in Rowan County. While the French-Eversole war raged in Perry County, many other counties suffered similarly during identically the same period. The eighties were a decade of blood, for during those years Harlan was in the clutches of murderers and anarchy reigned supreme. Letcher, Bell and Knott passed through like bloody experiences. In Clay County feudal wars raged for years and never disappeared completely until the close of the last century. The list of counties drenched with the blood of their citizens might yet be extended. To describe all the feuds in detail would, however, prove repetitive, even monotonous, and be only cumulative. To lengthen the list of assassinations could serve no beneficent purpose.
Some years ago we published an edition of Kentucky’s Famous Feuds and Tragedies. We closed the volume in the belief that feuds had ended once and for all times. But the worst period in all the bloody history of Breathitt was since then.
At the time of the publication of the first edition (from which some writers have quoted freely without giving us credit), we were charged with defaming the State, although it was admitted that the truth had been faithfully portrayed. It was not our intention then to malign the State, nor is it now.
We have simply compiled from facts a history of past events. Of what use is any history but to record past events that future generations might take lessons therefrom and be guided thereby?
Ignorance of true conditions does not, and never did bring about correction of evils.
The crusade against commercialized vice, the liquor traffic and other body and soul destroying evils can succeed only through full and complete publicity.
This history furnishes a study for the psychologist as well as for the criminologist. We cannot study crime and its manifold phases or point out remedies by studying the lives of saints. To find the original causes of social and political diseases we must go where these have existed or still exist. It would be silly to attempt to prove the result of the drink habit by the lives of teetotalers.
There are those who would be overcautious, who believe in the policy enunciated by the proverb: “Never mention a rope in the home of a man that has been hanged.” Had this principle at all times been adhered to, reforms would have been few. People will not rise to battle against evils until they are first made acquainted with the fact that the evils exist. It was due to the publicity given by the newspapers of conditions in Breathitt County that a thorough clean-up was inaugurated there.
If it be proper and right to publish nothing of a criminal or degrading nature, then we must of necessity put the ban upon the Bible.
What was the crucifixion of Jesus Christ but a bloody tragedy. The Bible gives us a detailed account of the awful, cruel, lawless conspiracy to do murder upon an innocent being. Judas prepared the ambush, as it were. He had the decency to go and hang himself, although he had nothing to fear from the authorities who had hired him to betray the Master.
The story of David and Absalom is the bloody history of a family feud on a large scale.
The murder of Abel by his brother Cain is taught the children at Sunday school, not for the purpose of entertaining them with bloodshed, or to encourage them to go and do likewise, but to make crime odious.
The history of the Moabites and other races and tribes is one long chapter of outrages. Crimes of unnamable character are recited at length in the Holy Book.
The history of the reformation is one of blood and crime. To exclude secular or sacred history because they narrate crimes and bloodshed and horrors, would mean the withdrawal of the greatest weapons with which modern progress fights its battles in shaping the minds of men.
We may gain invaluable lessons from this history if it be read with that intention. It is an appeal to people everywhere to be true to their citizenship. That Kentucky has furnished suitable material with which to illustrate and demonstrate the results of a weak, unpatriotic, disloyal citizenship, is not the fault of the historian. The facts were at hand, they were apt, and were used.
Just now there is a nation-wide appeal made for a true Americanism. The fact that the appeal is being made, seems to us an acknowledgment that true Americanism has deteriorated and needs ingrafting anew.
We join in this appeal, and shall add that had true Americanism prevailed in the feud-cursed sections of Kentucky, this bloody history could never have been written—there would have been a total absence of material for one.
What is true Americanism? It is not place of birth. It is nothing more, but nothing less, than undivided loyalty to country.
What is loyalty? When is a citizen loyal to his country? Waving his country’s flag and cheering it on a Fourth of July is but an outward demonstration of loyalty. A citizen is never loyal until he becomes and is faithful to the law; when he upholds and assists others in upholding the lawful authorities unswervingly. That is loyalty. There is no other definition for the word. So the citizen who refuses to obey the law himself in the first place, and makes no efforts to assist others in its enforcement, is not loyal to his country. When he has ceased to be loyal he becomes disloyal, and disloyalty is treason.
The true American, therefore, is loyal and has the courage to prove that loyalty whenever occasion arises.
One need not put on a uniform and fight battles against a foreign enemy to prove his patriotism. The patriot—the truly loyal citizen serves his country well by exercising that loyalty at home.
Good citizenship carries with it more than the simple right to vote. That right has obligations attached to it. The chief obligation is loyalty.
The moment loyalty weakens, a wedge of social and political corruption enters; once that wedge is driven deeper government must totter and fall, and anarchy steps in its place.
During the Civil War hundreds of thousands of Americans gave up their lives “that the nation might live.” The nation is an aggregation of States, the State a union of communities, and communities are formed by families.
To preserve a nation healthy that it may live, the States must also be so. But a State cannot be so if portions of it are diseased with social and political corruption. When a sore spot appears it ought to be cauterized at once without waiting for it to develop into an eating, destroying cancer.
The spirit of loyalty must be revived and kept alive in the minds and hearts of all citizens. Only through it can the evil impulses of the criminally inclined be controlled.
The citizen who is loyal should always reflect, when he begins to lose courage, that the good citizens are in the majority, and that the vicious element is almost universally cowardly. The criminal has the fear of the law although he defies it for a time.
We have narrated at great length the stealthy preparations made by the murderers of Callahan. The cool and apparently deliberate manner with which their plans were executed would lead one to believe that they feared no law.
Yet we have seen how a moment after the crime had been committed and its perpetrators realized that they were murderers in fact, they “stampeded,” the proof shows; they trembled with fear, though no one was on their tracks then. Their hearts turned to water. What did they fear? Punishment.
The bloody dictators of Breathitt County had abrogated the law, as they believed, yet feared the law they pretended to despise. This is clearly established by the methods with which they killed off their enemies. They resorted to secret assassination in each case because it would make discovery and punishment difficult, if not impossible. Each assassination had been shrewdly and carefully planned. Notwithstanding their temporary power and supremacy they lived in constant fear and dread, believing that punishment would and must sooner or later overtake them. This belief was strengthened by the fate of other criminals elsewhere.
If, then, the criminal fears the arm of the law, it requires very simple reasoning to come to the conclusion that the criminally inclined can, by the sure guaranty of swift, condign punishment be intimidated and forced into abstaining from following that inclination, and be so put in fear that he will think twice before he gives his atavistic tendencies free rein.
This history was written to teach a moral. The remedies suggested here for lawlessness and contempt for the law, may be applied with equal benefit where mob spirit is rampant. The mobist, to coin a phrase, that starts out to do murder upon a defenceless prisoner, is on a par with the bushwhacker—even inferior to him in courage. For mobs are courageous only through mass numbers; or when under strong and aggressive leadership. Mobs have been known to slink away ignominiously when confronted by one or two loyal citizens.
Disloyalty has been at the bottom of all great social disturbances.
Let the spirit of true Americanism, which is loyalty to country, return and with it will come the courage to uphold the law at whatever cost. Then and not till then is our flag the true symbol of American liberty; then and not till then will the phrase “American citizen” cease to be a banality, as it now is with many, and become what it is intended to be, a badge of honor, the most precious a man can wear on this earth.