Williamson County, Illinois - The whole text, 1876 (part 3 of 5)

The object of the prosecution was to get time to hunt up evidence ; but it was a source of positive relief to the defense to have the nolle entered. I knew, most certainly knew, that Young would send my client to jail ; but now I told him for the first time that we could clear him. The venue

"was again changed from Grain, J. P., to William Stover, J. P., of Eight Mile, who came to Marion and heard the case. The trial commenced Friday morning, March 31, 1874. The Bulliners in Tennessee had not only said that " they did not want any more Bulliners brought down there in boxes," but David, Sen., had come up to see that the guilty were prosecuted. Tom's gun was sent for, and the contents extracted. The People proved by two witnesses that Russell was at the window of the church that night, and the wadding picke^ up from the ground where the shooting was done, was placed to that drawn from the gun, and gave, as they claimed, an unbroken account of the St. Louis tobacco market. Balls and cutwads picked up were similar to those in the gun. They also proved threats. David's dying declaration, saying that it was Russell, was introduced. The defense was an alibi, five witnesses swearing that he retired at eight o'clock, was seen by them at half-past eight, and again at ten, in his room; - the murder having occurred at half-past nine o'clock, two miles away. The tracks were proven to be two numbers too large. The prosecution claimed that defendant's witnesses swore falsely; but I said then, and repeat it now, that they swore the truth. When Russell first employed me, I asked him to call up his witnesses, and let's see if they were going to swear harmoniously, and if there were any of them whose evidence would damage us, we could leave them off. He said :

" Call them as you please ; they will swear that I was at home. They know I was at home, and you can call them on the stand without any drilling. I am not afraid for you to do this."

The prosecution was badly managed. One of defendant's witnesses was Miss Hope Russell, a sister to the defendant, and a lady whose exalted virtues and transcendent beauty claim a consecrated place in this volume. One of the People's witnesses was Miss Amanda Bulliner, both about sixteen years old. She took the stand with a helpless and confiding look, her voice was a little softened by emotion, her rose-leaf lips curled delicately, but soon her clear, translucent eye lit up with a brilliant lustre. The shadows of misery seemed to depart. Her soft, round cheek dimpled and dimpled again, like the play of waters in the sun, in a lovely and touching assembly of charms. Her features were of classic regularity. Her presence seemed to hallow the place. So pure, so truthful, so charming her actions, that all pronounced her a most gentle, and most noble creature. Though never a jeweled wreath may span the curls on her beautiful brow, yet happiness may as well erect its shrine around her, for Nature can no further gifts bestow. Monroe Bulliner swore that he was within a few feet of the assassins, but did not recognize them. This was a remarkable exhibition of veracity. He might have identified the parties, and the world believed it true; but, firm as a rock, like a sainted martyr, he stood by the open, bold and honest truth.

One of the witnesses was the famous Sarah Stocks, who swore to threats. Her contour' is not as faultless as a Greek goddess, but her form and features had caught some new grace from the times. Her eye was as clear and cold as a stalactite of Capri. She wore a sigh, and there is something in a sigh for everybody. But I will throw no shadow over her, for life in her is as mysterious as in the rich belle ; and when the golden chariot of destiny rolls through the skies, she may take her seat among the great. On Saturday evening, the sun went down behind a fleecy cloud, and kindled a volcano from whose silver-rimmed crater fiery rays of scarlet shot up the clear blue dome of heaven, and the lurid lava streamed downward through vapory cliffs and gorges. Alarm took the place of anxiety. The Russells, Hendersons, Sisneys and their friends were in town, and rumor was rife that they had a load of arms, and that they would rescue Russell if he was committed. The people were scared, and went home. The State's Attorney ran off. The defense thought that the Bulliners were going to assassinate Russell, if he was turned loose. On the contrary, they had no such notion, but thought that they would be killed. The excitement arose from mutual misapprehensions. The Sheriff summoned twenty-five men, with guns, to hold the prisoner. Calvert closed for the People, amidst the greatest excitement, and the Court said the defendant was not guilty.

The surprised audience looked blank and sad-. James Henderson and a dozen others rushed to the defendant, gave him a pistol, and rushed him down stairs, where horses were in waiting. Russell and three others mounted, and left town at full speed. A letter was sent from the State Attorney of Jackson county, by James Conner, to the Sheriff, to hold Russell for the murder of George Bulliner, but, for some reason, was not delivered to the Sheriff until he was gone. The lue and cry was levied immediately, and several days were spent in trying to find him, but he has never been arrested. The BuUiners offered ^500 reward for his arrest, and ^2,000 for the conviction of him and Pleasant, which they afterward withdrew.

I will relate one incident as an illustration of the excitable foolery of the times. One evening, when all hopes for Russell's recapture were lost, John Russell came into town to see Clemens and myself on business. We had a social meeting appointed at G. L. Owen's that night, for some days before. After Russell was talking to us, we got a buggy and started out. Going on, I told Clemens that the people would think from the fact that Russell was there, that we were going out to see Thomas, and we had better drive rapidly and conceal our buggy, and have some fun : which we did. Sure enough, here they come ; on hand cars, horseback, and on foot, with general orders to arrest the " whole boiling," and put them in jail. Several hours were spent by these fellows in fruitless chase after " all three of them." There were several men in that raid, but I have never been table to find one of them.

and envy seized him, and John and not David was the one he wanted to kill. If he could have wrung this lady from John Bulliner, and unstained her life, I doubt not if the shadow of his own would not have again darkened it ; and inasmuch as he did not, it may be that the arrowy words wrung by the hand of passion from each of them were destined to hang quivering in memory's core till they festered and bled, making an irremedial wound, shaped in the red-hot forge of jealousy, and cured only by the exultant feelings of gratified revenge. These little bubbles of joy that jet up from the tumultuous ; waters of passion, soon evaporate, and leave but i mingled dross and shame to fester and canker the . mind of its possessor, who ever after leads a life f of infamy and its accompanying wretchedness. Whoever committed these murders is the guiltiest of them all. It was he who with death first knocked at our portals, and with buck and ball opened the flood gates of misery, and let murder rush with living tide upon our people. And today his life is ruined, his hopes are blasted, and sooner or later he will come to sorrow, shame and beggary, and have the scorpion thongs of conscience lashing his guilty bosom as he promenades the sidewalks of destiny.

is of fine form, dark complexion, black hair, and very intelligent. The charge brought no blush to his cheek, but throughout the trial he sat contented, with but little to say, and kept watching the Bulliners with implacable glance. John Bulliner had his gun. In speaking of these troubles, it looks like repeating the old story, and opening the wounds to bleed afresh ; but the cry of murder and bloodshed is of too common occurrence in this county, not to have it recorded. The smoke from one of these bloody acts scarcely settled on the field, when it was renewed. The report started and went the rounds, only to return and be renewed by the slaughter of another victim. I am bound to record these acts as they have occurred, for it is a page of history, recorded and sealed by the blood of our fellow-men, that will leave a crimson stain on the county, that will be gazed upon and wondered at by the young, years to come. The Bulliner boys appealed to the law. They appealed to humanity. They and their friends rode night and day, and spent hundreds of dollars in prosecuting the assassins, as they believed. But they were defeated. The law was not supported by a pure public sentiment of the people. The ones that they looked upon as being guilty were turned loose. What could they do ? Must they be driven to the bushes by this hard bargain, or be placed for a lifetime at the mercy of assassins, with their hearts enclosed in palisades of sorrow ? They saw their father and brother shot down by vandal hands, and their own lives threatened by fiends stalking in midnight darkness. Is it a wonder that the spirit of retaliation seized them, and the stern, old Mosaic law of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, went into full force among them, and they became aggressors themselves? Rataliation was taught them by every cord in human nature. They were drawn upon by every principle that calls forth human action. Their lives were a constant appeal to chivalry. What could they do but pick up the gauntlet hurled into their faces, and give vent to an anger long pent up? At this time there were interests more sacred to the Bulliners than those of peace. Justice was more. Honor was more. Fidelity to the memory of a murdered father and brother are considerations for which those who spoke so loud in favor of peace, would have foregone progress and prosperity, and drawn the shot-gun in stern resentment and punishment of those who invaded and violated these sacred rights. When can son forget his father ? When did passion and crime ever estrange one from the

Other? When Ocean surrenders up her water, then will the parents of his hopes and tears, and the holy lessons learned on their knees, be alienated, from the son's heart. They must, if they are human, esteem revenge for their wrongs as the most sacred inheritance.

The ordinary agents of the law had proven insufficient, and Nature rose up to avenge the injustice. Embassadors were at an end. Words of menace and expostulation were exchanged for the thunders of the shot gun. The quarrels which a hollow peace held- in abeyance were to be settled in the bushes. The die was cast. The god of the bushes had been invoked. The red hand of murder was raised. The feuds which had so long fermented among the Vendetta, were relegated to the arbitrament of the murderous shot gun. Already the lurid flames of the midnight gun lit up the fair fields of this county. Already the smoke hung like a wreath over the fairest lands of Egypt, and death stalkc'l with defiant tread over the county. The past was an index to the future. The cries of our future victims had already reached our ears. The Bulliners were not uncomplaining sacrifices. The voice of humanity had issued from the shades of their farm, and it had been unheeded, and one of them has since been convicted of murder. Whether he is guilty or not is not my province to say, but to tell the facts the best I can, and let the world pass its judgment on this slaughtered family.

John Bulliner could have been actuated by but one principle of human action in "going into this work of blood, and that was revenge. If any thing could be tolerated to plead in extenuation or palliation of crime, surely it could be urged in his case ; but if he is guilty, I would place his crime at nothing less than murder. The assassins of his father were actuated by malice. Their deeds were committed with no ingredients to assuage or cool ; - making them the most dastardly acts on record. The Grain boys were actuated by a very different motive to join in this work. That is, where the power to do wrong with impunity exists, the will is not long wanting. Whenever mankind see a chance of doing wrong without ever being detected, they do not wait for a provocation. The best of men will do wrong, and nothing but wrong, if you remove the fear or possibility of punishment. It is true that the fear of God restrains a small class. But generally this is but a temporary restraint, and is effective only when protected from strain. But strain it : take away the punishments that men inflict, open the gates to crime, and some of the best men will become the most consummate scoundrels in the land. So it was with the Grains. They did not commence killing from an inherent love of killing, but because it was being done by others, and nobody punished. Hence, men have been heard to say, "I might as well make some money as anybody else."

After Russell's release, several parties formed themselves into fantastic models, and scouted the country. Ready to vie with each other in general follies, they started out by being ridiculous and ended by being vicious and criminal. One of these parties, headed by Vince liinchcliff, arrested Gordon Clifford, alias "Texas Jack," down near the bloody grounds, and after treating him very badly, brought him to Marion, and just before daylight, had a mock trial before a J. P., the State's Attorney reading the law out of a patent office report, and probably the drunkest man in the crowd. "Jack" was put in jail without law or evidence, - the only witness being '' Smokey Joe," who had never seen "Jack" before. "Texas Jack" was a very mean man,, but he ought to have been tried as becomes the ministers of justice in her own sacred temple. He came into this county in 1873, and lived around promiscuously for two years, offering gratuitous meanness for his board. He was about twenty-five years old, talL slender, fine-looking fellow, and a very fast young man generally, a noisy ladies' man, and horse jockey. He lay in jail until October, when he was indicted for harboring "fugitives from justice," meaning Thomas Russell. He gave bond in the sum of $500, and after having a couple of rows with Hinchcliff for the treatment he received from him he ieft the country. He said he came from Kansas, and Vince wrote there, and his character was very bad. When he was arrested, the word "hanging" was pretty freely used, and I would suggest that if he ever take a mania for suicide and will come back to this county, he may find somebody who will assist him off in a romantic manner.

Some of their scouting parties talked abdut hanging men ; plans were laid in Marion ; meetings were held ; names given ; the leading men on the Russell-Henderson-Sisney side were to be hung ; but they never could get the executioners on the ground. After the Russell trial, James Hender. s )n was waylaid. He set up many a night all night, watching for the assassins, but his dogs barked and his mules brayed, every time they would come near the house, as if to warn their master that assassins were lurking in the bushes, and they would run off. One night he hitched his mules out in the woods to keep them from making a noise, so that he could kill the assassins, but just before they got up that night in shooting distance of him, the mules broke loose and came running to the house. He worked in his field, surrounded by a dense forest, with Grantie and little Frank Jeffreys acting as guards for him.

On the morning of May 15, 1874, while Frank was on watch, he said he saw somebody behind a pile of logs in the field, James looked and said he guessed it was nothing. In the afternoon, Grantie had to help her mother wash, and Frank was on guard alone. About three o'clock, he said he was lonesome sitting up in the edge of the woods, and wanted to come down to his fosterfather. James, who had been building fence, told him to come, and he lay down with the boy. Three assassins lay concealed behind a pile of logs, twenty-seven steps away. The dripping drab of a summer sky overhung the scene in pearly sails, and just when our people were looking for light out of darkness, to unmantle the smouldering folds of hatred, they fired on Henderson, who lay on his side, the balls taking effect in his back. He turned over on his face, and put his hand over his eyes while looking at them. One of them walked out from behind the logs and fired at him with a pistol, and struck him in the hand. They then ran off. He said right there, while his agonizing nature was vibrating in horrid suspense between life and death, that he recognized the assassins as James Norris, John BuUiner and Manuel or Monroe Bulliner. Thomas Wilson, a young man who was near by and saw the men, did not know them. Henderson was carried to the house, and lingered eight days before he died. When the news of the shooting reached Marion, but little concern was manifested. There was a disposition that so long as they kept even down on the " bloody ground " it was all right. One fellow cried out, "Thank God, they have got the old king bee at last." But such a sentiment was too shocking to float unrebuked on the air of Marion. We know what such sentiments have produced in other countries. History tells the fearful tale. The terrible record is written in blood, and the world stands aghast when the book is opened. He was informed that a bunch of bones would be rammed into his face if he repeated that sentence..

There was no high-wrought, inflated tone about Henderson. No straining or twisting of style, but all was plain, simple, easy and natural. He was compelled to toil for the necessaries of life, and bravely bore the frettings and raspings of this cold, dull world. To his friends he was warm-hearted, candid, earnest and honest, and would risk his life for them any time. To his enemies he was cautious, daring and dangerous. He was a man of but few words, but wore a mild, firm fearless look. He is gone ! and the silver-dusted lilies and trailing willows will throw their flickering shadows over his grave, made green by the lichen-fingered touch of time forever. Soon after his death his wife became a lunatic, and died on the New Year day following. On Saturday, the next day after Henderson was shot, Jason Ditmore was plowing alone in his field, one mile west of Henderson's, and about ten o'clock he was fired on three times in rapid succession, five of the balls striking him, one in the breast, one in each arm, one in the side and thigh ; but he soon recovered, and left the county. No "reason for this shooting can be given, unless it was that he saw the assassins of Henderson. He was in no known way connected with the Vendetta. When the inquest was held over Henderson, the Coroner issued his warrant for the arrest of John Bulliner and James Norris, but they ran at large until August 25th, 1874, when Deputy Sheriff W. J. Pully arrested Bulliner at Crainville. He was kept under guard at Marion until September 3d, when he was taken before Judge Crawford on a writ of habeas corpus, and was admitted to bail in the sum of ^3,000. In October following they were both indicted for murder.. Bulliner was put upon his trial, and had four witnesses from Tennessee, who swore that he was there at the time, and he was acquitted by a jury.

Soon after Ditmore was shot, John Rod and one other man were riding beside a field, three miles north-west of Henderson's, and two miles north of the Eight Mile, when they saw a man fall down in the weeds in the field. Thinking something had happened him. Rod went over to see; when he got within ten feet of the man, he rose and fired on Rod, shooting him through the thigh, and then scampered away. It was rumored that this was Thomas Russell, bu^, rumor had him everywhere, so there is*no telling.

On Sunday morning, August 9th, 1874, George W. Sisney went out to his barn lot, and two assassins, who lay concealed in the fence corner near by, snapped their guns at him four times, but being wet with the dew, they did not fire. He was shocked, and called to one of his boys to come to him, when the assassins rose and walked off, and he stood watching them for over two hundred yards. He did not tell who these parties were, but at the October term indicted Timothy Edward Cagle and James Norris, for an assault to murder him, claiming that they were the parties. Cagle is nineteen years old, an orphan boy, slim, awkward built, fair complexion, very pleasant and agreeable. He once had a difficulty with one of the Sisney boys. He worked 'for David BuUiner thirteen months, with James Norris. After he was indicted he went to New Orleans, put returned, and in March, 1875, g^^e him.self up and lay in jail until September, when he went. to trial. I had opened the case for the defense, when it was no lied on account of Sisney's death. About this time rumor was afloat that Dr. Bentley, of Marion, had cut some balls out of John Sisney, supposed to have been received when David Bulliner was killed. On the 17th day of August, W. H. Bentley published an affidavit, stating that he had never cut any ball out of or known of any being in any of the Sisneys, and that the rumor was false. John Sisney was not believed to be guilty, but made a very convenient scape-goat for those who were.

During the month of August, " Field," Henderson and Monroe Bulliner accidentally met in Marion, and had a talk, and agreed to meet at Carteville, and compromise, and have no more trouble. Monroe said he would get John, and *' Field " said he would get all the Hendersons, and meet him on a set day. "Field" saw the Henderson's, and they said they had so far nothing to do with the troubles, and were not going to have; but '-Field" went to Carterville by him self on the day, and Monroe, John, and Vincent Hinchcliff met him.

Vince took him out to one side, and said, " ' Field,' these boys did not kill your uncle Jim. I know they did not. All they want is to be let alone. The next man that is killed, the last one of the Hendersons will be killed or run out of the county. You fellows, by God, can't kill everybody. The people won't stand it."

He said he had sent for the boys, two new shot guns, and they had not come, and that is why he knew they did not kill his uncle. Here Monroe and John came out, and John asked ' Field' where Sam. Henderson was. " Field " said he did not know, that he was afraid to stay at home and work. John said ;

But they all agreed to be friends, and have no further trouble. ' Field ' was to tell Sam that he could come home and go to work, and that they were not to hurt him ; but Sam never came home. This was the first time that "Field " knew that Vince was an enemy to them. He used to deerdrive with his uncle Jim, and he was astonished at his talk.

On Sunday, October 4th, 1874, Vincent Hinchcliff rode out north about a mile, to see a sick man. Coming back about noon, and two hundred and fifty yards from his house, several ruffians had concealed themselves in a skirt of timber, on the east side off the road, which had been fenced in, but had grown up with small bushes. They fired on him sixteen times, four shot guns and twelve pistol shots. He and his horse were both shot dead on the spot. Robert, who started down at the first shot, turned the rise, and what a scene was there to greet his eyes 1 What a radia of woe surrounded his heart ! What a halo of shame ! With an agonizing spirit he looked and saw Vince lying face downward on the cold earth, shot to death by the unerring missiles from the murderous shot gua. And the bright sun looked sorrowfully down, a silent witness to this deed of inhuman butchery. And in the woods near by were heard the screams of joy and fiendish yells of these ruffians, holding a regular Kickapoo war dance over his remains, while the smoke from their guns was ascending high up in the dome of day as a signal to the surrounding country that another victim had been offered up. Who does not wish that he could have cut fire-brands from the flames of torment, and with unsparing hand scattered them relentlessly through that forest ? Humanity would have directed the stroke, and civilization have countenanced it. Heaven help the assassin whose unsteady aim had left Vince Hinchcliff uncrippled, for he had arms and he would have instantly wielded them with a dexterous hand, and unbarred the gates of perdition for two hell-deserving assassins. At two o'clock of that day two men blacked were seen crossing a field three miles east of Vince's, but were not recognized. At the October term. Fielding G. and Samuel Henderson were indicted for this murder.

On the night of the 12th day of December 1874, Captain Sisney and George Hindman, a young relative, were sitting near a window on the south side of Sisney's house, playing dominoes, when an assassin came on the stoop in his sock feet, and shot through the window at Sisney. About forty shot struck him in the right arm, and carried away the muscle. Hindman was badly wounded in the neck and arm, from which he recovered. Sisney's arm withered away. This was a random shot, fired into a family, and the wickedest one ever fired in this county. Marshall Grain said he did this shooting, and that there was no one with him. But the tracks of four persons were seen next day, one at each corner of the yard, and the sock-footed fellow made leaps that would have strained Marshall Grain considerably. At the April Term, 1875, Timothy Cagle was indicted for an assault to murder each of these parties ; but on what evidence I am unable to tell. After Sisney's death, both cases were nolled. Marshall Grain also said that about this time he tried to kill Milton Black, who had fought "Big Terry," and that he waylaid John Sisney, and came very near killing Worth Tippy, one day, believing it to be Sisney.

On the first day of January j875^ /'Field" Henderson was in Garterville, and Monroe Bulliner went up to him and asked him to explain why he had inquired- jaf. the chamber-maid at the McNeil House, where he slept. "Field" said he had not done so. . Monroe then asked him to go to the girl and see. "Field " said he would not go, for he had not done so. Monroe said that he was satisfied, but a crowd gathered around who took " Field's " refusal to.go see the girl as evidence of guilt. Rough words were exchanged, and revolvers drawn, '.and ."-Field. '^.commenced backing off. -He displayed remarkable coolness and courage. Any other m^nwould.have crouched like a spaniel at. their feet, or risen like a demon to confront them ; but he silently withdrew and boarded the train.' The crowd got on also. Monroe came into the same car with him and they talked the matter over, but the crowd was barred up in the baggage car by the. conductor, who stood in the door. The train ran a half mile to Crainville, where all the parties - got off, and "Field" came on to Marion. It afterwards turned out to be one of .Bulliner's -frieuids who inquired for his room,, in order to ge|; a pistol he had .'left there. ^ Monroe. ;Bi}lliner,- .Wesley. . Council, J. M. McCarty, Hugh McCarty, and John

Moore, were indicted for a riot, for this affray, and were tried . at the November Term of the County Court, 1876, and acquitted. When "Field " arrived at Marion, he went to the residence of J. D. F. Jennings, State's Attorney, to see if he was indicted for the murder of Hinchcliff. Jennings told him he was, but to keep out of the way until Court. "Field" went home, five miles north of Marion, and Jennings came running up town and told that "Field" had been there with three revolvers, and tried to kill him, and " played thunder " generally. And he had the whole town in the greatest excitement. It was published in the papers, and went the rounds, that " Field " Henderson, the famous outlaw and desperado, had tried to assassinate the State's Attorney for doing his duty. The truth is, he displayed no weapon, but acted as gentlemanly as a man could, to my certain knowledge. I was Henderson's counsel, and we followed Jenning's advice.

In February, the Deputy-Sheriff and another man went out to arrest Field," who, when he saw them, ran up stairs, and when they came in below he climbed down the stoop and started off through the field. They took after him,.and fired on him. six times. He returned the fire three times. After his escape he went to Kentucky, where he remained two months, and in April, 1875, came back and gave himself up, and was admitted to bail on motion, on the 13th da)'^, in the sum of ^5,000, which he gave, and at the October Term we went to trial, and proved byfifteen good men that they saw him near a church at the very hour Hinchcliff was killed, twelve miles away. And the State's Attorney, after this evidence was in, entered a nolle.

During the summer of 1874, there was an organization of fifteen men, near Carrier's Mills, in Saline county, who extended their operations up into this county. They called themselves *' Regulators," and dressed in disguise, and went around to set things in order. They did not injure any person, but simply notified those whom they thought out of the line of domestic duty, and even in financial affairs, to flank into line again. They generally gave their victim such a scare that he was willing to do anything to be in company by himself. Such a band is a disgrace to any civilized country ; but no serious results or disparaging influence came from this one. Rumors were currently circulated of the good they were doing. Lazy, trifling fellows took a scare, and blistered their hands at work ; quarrelsome women turned to praying, and brutish husbands became as loving as Adonis, under the potent influence of this country clique. There was probably an organization of a more serious character in this county. Several men were taken out and whipped, and some ten or fifteen notified to leave the county. This was during the years 1874-5.

On the night of the 23d of October, 1874, a party of twenty men in disguise visited the family of Henry D. Carter, in Northern Precinct, and ordered him to leave the county within forty days, whereupon a fight took place, and twenty-two balls were lodged in his house. In a few days, fifty-two men met in arms at the County Line Church, in daylight, and ordered six of the Carters to leave the county. Mr. Carter wrote their names to the Governor, imploring protection. The Governor wrote to Jennings to enforce the law, and of course that ended it. Several anonymous letters were written to editors, threatening them, during these two years; but if there were ever any regular Ku-klux in this county, outside of the band who hung Vancil, it was in 1875, ^^ the west and southwest sides of the county, and a small band which probably included some members of the Vendetta.

After the death of Hinchclifif, consternation seized every mind ; mutual distrust and a want of confidence was felt. The solemn pallor of cholera times hung over our people. Silence pervaded the air. The responsible men were seen standing around in groups, whispering questions that no man dare answer ; while the irresponsible part, and dead-beats were lopping their horses about town, and making wild goose-sallies out to the edge of the bloody ground, quartering on some good farmer for a day and night, eating and drinking with mirth and revelry, and then come back and report some long, airy story of the whereabouts of some noted assassin. Most men had a plan to advise, but the execution of it was generally left to reckless young men, or floating characters, who had nothing to lose and all to gain. Suppressed curses were sometimes whispered against the noted characters, and then the parties would be cautioned, least he brought the killings to Marion. A low murmur or subdued excifement, would break out in the bloody ground late some evening, and produce the greatest commotion among the neighbors. Pistol shots had been heard at the back of somebody's field, and the sound of hurrying feet or horses running, and out would come five or six men, scared like rabbits, from a thicket. They did not like John Bulliner's movements, or Tom Russell had been seen, or Norris, a desperate outlaw and daring desperado, armed to the teeth, was lurking in the bushes. Reporters for city papers would come down here, and go as near the bloody grounds as "they felt disposed, find out what they could, (and in those days it was dangerous to seek to know more of the Vendetta than they chose to tell,) and then go back and call us a set of " bloodthirsty barbarians," "Italian brigands," and " Night Riding Ku-klux," and on top of these outrages a series of letters, signed " Big Pete of the Woods," were published by R. F. Brown, in the Farmer'' s Advocate, in Marion, threatening everybody and especially the State's Attorney. Brown's boy, afterwards, trying to convince me that C.- H. Dennrson wrote those letters, produced the manuscripts, and I recognized in each of them the hand-writing of J. D, F. Jennings, the State's Attorney. He got terribly scared at his own shadow, and had the sympathy of many people in his great danger. And all the time he was fixing up a plan to steal something and run away, and make the people believe that he had to leave to save his life. He was so warm that he would <burn a man with his kindness; and at the same time lived a life of cold-blooded rascality. He even reported that he saw men around his house, trying to kill him ; but the people soon learned to take the square root of what he said for truth.

He was very popular, and the secret of it was his manners, saying and opinions. He was a professional doctor, lawyer, preacher, fiddler, hornblower and a libertine. When he made music on the square, a crowd would swell around him. When he preached, they all went to hear him, from the talented aristocracy down to the bootblack. He was a rowdy among the rowdies, pious among the pious, Godless among the Godless, and a spooney among the women. He would get up in a sermon and rattle away until the shrouds and lanyards of conscience must have fairly quacked under the strain, and then go, get on a drunk. He was a clerical blackguard, whose groveling passions assumed full sway at all times. Lost to every Christian restraint, degraded in his tastes, villainous in his nature, corrupt in his principles, how wretched was such an apology for a State's Attorney ! He suddenly became wise and learned in the law above his compeers, and found out that all our witnesses were accomplices without veracity, and those who were branded as criminals, looked upon the law with contempt of judgment, and we stultified ourselves trying to enforce the law. "The wickedness of the people is indeed great, when the wickedest men among them are men of renown." And yet we had to look to a man as our leader in this great emergency, who bears the character of being a most consummate scoundrel. On his face was written legibly, "a liar, a hypocrite." Awhile before he left, he wrote a letter to Samuel Dunaway and a few other rich men of Marion, threatening to kill them, and signed it "Big Pete." Then he went to these parties and said he knew who it was wanting to kill them, and that if they would give him ^5,000 he would hire men to kill them, and even told who he could get to do it. He was awful uneasy for them! But his insinuating toadyism and spaniellike reverence for his " friends" were but idle and frivolous assertions in this case. They knew his warped and biased soul was steeped in infamy and falsehood. About the time our people began to see the utter futility of expecting anything like justice in a court where this man was State's Attorney, he had the good sense to defraud the county of ^900 and run away and owing everybody. As a prosecutor, he Avas a regular sarcasm on justice, a great hideous burlesque ; free from religious scruples, and ready to sail from any point of the compass. He has gone out to humbug some other people, and will live in our history in an immortality of sharrie and disgrace. He and Brown, of the Farmer' s Advocate, did more to injure our county than all the shot guns in it.

In April 1875, ^^^ office was declared vacant, and in June J. W. Hartwell was elected to fill the vacancy. On the 22nd day of January, 1875, B. O. Jones, of Massac, introduced a bill in the Legislature to appropriate ^10,000 for the relief of Williamson County. But the speaker appointed a committee against us, with L. F. Plater, of Hardin, as chairman. He wrote to our State's Attorney, Circuit Clerk, and others for information, but none of them ever answered him, and the bill was cut down to $3,000, and passed the House too late to be passed by the Senate. Hon. A. C. Nelson, our Representative, won for himself the illustrious appellation of " Egyptian orator," fighting for this bill.

During the spring of 1875, several blinds were found near Bulliner's, and one day John went to Carbondale, and a fresh bli-nd was put up north of his house, about a quarter of a mile, so that they could kill him, as he returned. Monroe- found this blind; and told John to look out, and thus saved Jiis life. At one time some men were seen around the house; but they did not get to kill anybody. At this time the people were an entire army of observers. Every man had his eyes riveted on the horizon of crime, and his ears pricked to hear. On the night of the 4th of July, somebody went to Marshall Grain's house, in Crainville, while he was gone from home, and fired a charge of buck-shot promiscuously around his bed. This gave Marshall such a scare that he determined to go back into the Vendetta, which he had left in January, and he said he -hired to John Bu\- liner to kill Sisney for $300, and got all the money but ^5. He wanted to kill John Sisney first, but Bulliner would have him kill the old man. Being afraid to stay at home, he and his wife went to Samuel Music's to board. On the 7th he asked Sam, if he got into trouble would he help him out. Sam said he would. Again, on the 8th, he asked him, and Sam said he would swear for him, and clear him. Marshall said John Sisney had shot into his. house, and he wanted revenge, and he wanted Sam to swear him out of trouble. Sam agreed to do so.

About ten o'clock Wednesday, July the 28th, Marshall started out from Music's, and went to a neighbor's, and borrowed a gun, saying that he wanted to go a hunting ; but in fact he hardly knew what he did want with it. He went down within two miles of Carbondale, and concealed his gun in an old house on the road, near Mrs. Snider's, and went into the field where the Snider boys were thrashing wheat. Here he met the famous Allen Baker, and had a few words with him privately. This was late in the evening. He then went back to the old house and left his coat and boots, and just after dark, went to Carbondale, where George W. Sisney had moved a few months before for safety. It was raining, and. in going up East Main street, he carried a board over his gun, to keep it dry. When he met anybody he would lay his gun under the side-walk, pass on and then go back and get it ; and this he did as many as six times. Capt. Sisney lived on the the northeast corner of the square, his house extending eastward and facing south, with a porch on the south side. Marshall went up slowly, but Sisney had already retired. He waited around the premises for a while, and when anybody would pass with lanterns, he would go back to an old wood shed in a dark ally, on the east side. The evening train was late that night, and when Marsh, had got tired and almost gave up all hope, it came, and on board was Overton Stanley, a friend of Sisney's, who went directly to Sisney's house to get Sisney to sign a note with him as his security. He called, and about half past nine o'clock, Sisney came down in his parlor, and after lighting a lamp, signed the note and sat down near a window, on the south side ; his hands lay folded across his lap. It was a night of rain and clouds. The wind swept sighingly through the foliage of the trees, with a rustling sound, as of swollen waters. The long, plaintive howl of the watch dog came hurriedly by, and mournfully fell on the ears of Marshall Grain, when the sobs of the gale would subside. He went into the old shed and put fresh caps on his gun, and then went slipping, half stooped, along to the porch, but was so thirsty that he laid his gun down and went out into the street and drank out of a mud-hole with his hands ; then taking his gun, he stepped to the window. The curtains were blown about softly in the breeze. All inside wore the sombre gray tint of light. He gently blowed against the curtains, and saw two men, but could not tell which was- Sisney. Again he blowed and saw a pair of legs, and was about to shoot, when he saw that the man had on fine boots. That was not Sisney. His breath, assisted by the wind, parted the curtains again, and he saw the black, stiff beard of Sisney. He stepped back, cocked both barrels of his gun, raised it to his shoulder. Just then he heard Sisney say, " I guess it is time to retire." Stanley asked,

It was the only expression of despair that ever came from the brave heart of George Sisney, although he had four times before survived the murderous missiles.

" Wearied, forsaken arid pursued, at last, . All safeiy in despair of safety placed, Courage he thence resumes, resolves ^o bear All their assaults, since 'tis in vain to fear."

After .the murder that night, the winds. sallied, and a cold, white fog laid its moist fingers on the; heated pulse of Carbondale. The scene in this stricken, smitten and afflicted family was heartrending. Mrs. Sisney, who had raised the window up stairs and cried out for help, was now wringing her hands in agony. Martha Jane, who \vas sleeping in an adjoining rjoom;below, woke up^. heard.

|ia strangling noise, and asked her father what was I the matter; receiving no answer, dressed herself, and went into the parlor. The light, six feet away, had been blown out by the concussion, and all was dark. Stanley said -

" Your pa is shot. Mr. Sisney is killed dead." He had locked the front door, and she opened it and called for help. The sad and heavyhearted citizens came in droves, their eyes flashing with resentment, and their spirits rankling in bitter malice. They followed the assassin a piece but could not keep his trail. Sisney remained seated for an hour and a half upright in his chair, shot under the left nipple, which made a hole two inches in diameter. , He was buried on; the 30th, on his old homestead, with Masonic honors. There we leave him forever. - Shall his memory go back to oblivion and shame, or. shall it follow those who have gor^e without blame from intelligence, virtue or Heaven?. ,1 would,.wri:te for his epitaph, "An honest, brave, true man."-

After the murder, Marshall Grain ran down East street with his gun, and crossed into the bushes, on the north side of the road leading east. When he got into, Mrs. Snider's field, he got lost, in the dark. -.The thunders,; bellowed over head" like the- ti;um|)et .of .the great' aixh^angel' calling sinners to judgment. Crash upon crash, and roar upon roar, till the vast vault of heaven was filled with the giant sound. The lightning, broad and bright, flooded the whole sky with a lurid red, flashing its fire across the field, and illuminating with a dreadful light his solitary form alone amid the wrath of the elements. After wading through swamps and bushes, he arrived at his mother-inlaw's, nine miles from Carbondale, just before day, tired, wearied and almost broken down. Next morning. Colonel D. H. Bush, of Carbondale, offered a reward of ^500, which he refused to pay on the conviction of Bulliner and Baker for the murder of Sisney, and suit was brought against him by B. F. ' Lowe, which is now pending. Samuel Music, who was teaming for Captain Landrum, was in Carbondale the day Sisney was killed. He saw Marshall Crain there (for he had been in a while that day), who told him that he was there to kill Sisney, and he told Sam where he had left his coat and boots. Sam got them, and wore the boots out. On the morning after the murder. Music said, he, Marshall, and Allen Baker met in Carterville, and Baker gave as a reason for not coming to help him in the killing, as he had promised at Mrs. Snider's, that it rained. About noon., Marshall, Music and John Bulliner, met in Crainville, and Marshall told John that Sam was into this thing too, now, and they both told Sam if he told this he would be the next man killed. Marshall then told John how he killed Sisney, and John paid him $15, and told him he would pay him the rest when he sold his wheat. The same day, "Big Jep " Grain came to Marion. His presence in town created a great deal of talk, and most people believed he was in the Vendetta. He wanted to join a proposed company of militia, and be the captain. He said he could stop the killing ; but before this a subscription paper had been circulated to employ detectives, and he signed ^25, and after a while he said "he did not like the direction things were taking," and withdrew it.

He went down to Crainville, Friday evening, about four o'clock, and he and Marshal and Music (according to Music's statement), went down to Marshal's old house, and after playing cards and drinking awhile, " Big Jep " said : "The next man to kill is Spence," and told Music to go to John BuUiner's and get a gun for "Black Bill" Grain. Music said he would not do it ; that he would be seen, but he would get one from John Ditmore, in Grainville, if that would do. ' ' Big Jep ' ' said it would do, and that he would 6b go that night and get "Black Bill," who lived four miles south of Crainville, and meet him and Marsh next morning at the back of Mrs. Hampton's field, which is only three miles south. '' Big Jep " went off, and at dark. Music went to John Ditmore's to get his gun, but John would not let it out at night, and told him to come in the morning, which he did very early and got the gun, and put it in Marsh's old house. Then Sam and Marsh got three pints of whiskey, and met in the woods at the back of " Yaller Bill's " field, from where they walked to the back of Mrs. Hampton's field. At the north-west corner a path led up into the woods. They broke weeds and brushes off and threw them in the path as a "sign" and went on up the hill. There they fired three pistol shots as a signal to " Big Jep " and " Black Bill," who came about twelve o'clock, two hours after Marsh and Sam had got there. The object of this meeting was to initiate Sam into the Kuklux, as he said that "Big Jep " thought they had better join them for protection, but they did not do so. They agreed to kill Spence that night. Sam, "Black Bill " and Marsh were to do the killing, and " Big Jep " was to keep them out of trouble. He told them, if they got in jail not to mind staying there two or three months, that the door would be smashed in and they taken out.

They parted, and "Big Jep " went with " Black Bill," and Sam and Marsh went to Wesly Grain's and got dinner. Sam went home and then to Carterville, and got some more whisky, and at dark met " Black Bill " and Marshall at the back of "Yaller Bill's " field, near Crainville. They went up to Marsh's old house, about two hundred yards south of Spence's store, where they waited until ten o'clock, when everything got still. Then Marshall took a gun, which he had got out of a hollow tree in the woods, said to be a BuUiner gun, and they circled around through the woods and came up on the east side of Spence's store.

The rose-flush of day had faded in the West. The sombre-gray of twilight had fallen around them, and the watching stars had taken their stand in the concave up above, like unhappy sentinels, doomed to keep watch over the infinity of the ocean. Spence was asleep up stairs. They were environed by the intense stillness. The thought of murder rolled slowly through their minds, but still they did not relent. The eastern horizon was silvered by the rising moon, and looked like a huge mass of beryl whereon burned ruby flakes of vapor, guarded by the vestal stars above. The sapphire arch overhead burned beautiful and mellow. Marshall went to the door and called out, "Mr. Spence." Spence asked who was there. Marshall said, "John Sisney ; I want to get shrouding for a child." Spence said he would be down in a minute. Soon the tall, august form of William Spence, illuminated by a solitary light, was seen towering grandly between the counters. When he got to the door, Marshall fired both barrels into his abdomen - a charge of sixty buckshot. Spence said, " Marsh, don't shoot me any more!" This was an address to humanity. It was a heart-rending cry of distress from a soul in mortal strait. Such a cry ought not to go unheeded by a brother man ; but Marsh run his arm through the broken pane in the door, and shot him with a pistol in the face, as he fell. He then punched a pane out of the glass front with his gun, and went into the house, and searched around through trunks and drawers for two or three minutes, when " Black Bill" called him out. He had an old empty pocket-book. They walked off east, along the railroad, half a mile, and then turned south into "Big Terry's" field, and came out into an old road, where Music asked, "What will I do if I am arrested?" " Black Bill " said, "Have me and Marsh subpoenaed, and we will swear you clear."

William Spence was but little known in this county. He came here a few years ago, but attended to his own business and said but little. He was a good man, strong, firm and dignified to stiffness ; but was making money. His death left no orphan or widow to wail at his hearth-stone. Though about forty years of age, he was unmarried. After he was shot he lay in his store all night, and was not found until the holy hush of Sunday morning rested like a benediction on the scene. Sunday morning, Marsh and Music again met at the back of Mrs. Hampton's field, and Marsh drew his revolver on Sam, and told him he believed he was a traitor, on account of some strange whistling he had heard, and if he did not find the whiskey, which he had concealed the day before, he would kill him. While Sam was preparing a hurried absolution, he found the whiskey, which saved his life. Marshall afterwards said he wished he had shot him ; that he thought he was neglecting duty.

Bridge, in Jackson county, was fired on by an assassin, who mistook Baker's shadow on the window-blind for his body, and let in a charge of buck-shot without killing anybody.

Music was coming back from the meetings at the back of Mrs. Hampton's field, on Sunday afternoon, drunk, as usual, and a mile south of Crainville, he fell in with Carrol Waggoner and his wife, who were going home to Crainville. He got in the wagon with them, and the subject of the murder came up,. when Music said, "Yes, we put the damned old scoundrel out of the way." Mrs. Waggoner of course knew that '' we " meant Music, Marshall and "Big Jep." Late Monday evening following, Music, Marsh and " Yaller Bill" met in Crainville, near Landrum's Mills, and " Yaller Bill" said, " Did either of you boys get any jewelry?" Marsh said, "No." Bill said, " If anybody got his watch, it has his name in it, and they will be detected and pull hemp as sure as hell." He then advised Marsh to take his wife to her mother's, and leave the country, and told Sam to stop drinking, or he would leak it out." He said, "There is getting too many in this thing anyway."

is the only evidence of '' Yaller Bill's " connection with the Vendetta. Our people do not believe he is guilty. They say that if he gave Marsh the advice spoken of by Music, that it is no more than any other brother would have done. Music went to Carbondale on Tuesday, and remained two weeks. While there, Marsh tried to get him out several times, but oam was afraid and would not come. Marsh left in about a week after the murder, and went to Missouri, and Sam went to Bird's Point, in the same State.

Never has there been a season of such universal consternation and anxiety among all sexes and ages as was in this county. It threatened us and our posterity with perpetual odium, and the very thought of having our county branded with lasting shame, filled us with living emotions of anger and fire. All felt that it was a time to summon every aid, both human and divine, and with the bayonets save our county. Political prejudices and feelings, which had entered largely into the animus of the Vendetta heretofore, were lost sight of in the duties of the hour. It was an understanding that Republicans sympathized with the Russell side, and the Democrats with the Bulliner side of the Vendetta; but now public considerations of a higher character attracted the attention of our people, and they rose above the trammels of political sympathies, and united as a band of honest freemen. No language that I can command can give adequate utterance to the feelings that it awakened in us, to hear of our friends being shot down like beasts. It was chafing to our hopes and gadding to our spirits. Many believed that we were standing on the threshold of a mighty convulsion, and they watched it with wonder and awe. Others prayed to that Being who sets liberty up and oppression down, to break the tornado that was hanging over us like a pall. Our lands went down in value one-third to one-half. The coal fields lay dormant. The fields of grain that were annually garnered on the west side of the county nearly failed. These were stubborn facts, known at home and read by thinking minds throughout the world. The name of Williamson county had become a hiss and by-word. Strangers shunned us like a serpent, and the sting was felt. Affairs were deplorable. Ruffianism was rampant. Noted assassins were concealed in the thickets of the bloody ground. This was a daily talk, spoken out in thunder tones, that all understood. The air was filled with omens of disaster. Pass the street corners and the breath of murder was whispered in your face. Bold assassins stalked unbriddled and unchecked. To bring these outlaws to justice was the universal desire of our people ; but how to do it was a point that put to silence the entire country. The people were cursing the officers. Those who knew anything were afraid to tell it. Some were clamorous for public meetings, others for militia, and a few for rewards. Massac county was crying to us from the memory of her dead Vendetta ; Missouri was pleading with us with her mangled hundreds, telling us to think of the gallows and the recollections that it suggested ; the newspapers were holding a regular matinee over us, and sending a devastating storm of shot at our blood-stained county. There was no relying on internal strength. What was defective within was aggravated by what was bad from without. The abuse from without aggravated the evil influence within, which caused the banks of crime to overflow, and spread ruin and woe over the fairest lands of "Egypt." The minds which needed hardening were relaxed. The hearts which needed fortifying were dissolved. The passions which needed cooling were irritated and disqualified for considerate action. At this crisis, it was suggested that we meet and pass resolutions that there had never been any crime committed in this county, and straddle the "dark clouds that lowered over our house" on some other county.

During this year the most malignant falsehoods and slanders were hurled over the country about this county, and were received with implicit faith. At any other time they would have returned to pay the inventor with a vengeance. I raised my voice against these outrages, and claimed that it was steel pens, not shot-guns, that were ruining the business interests of our county. I knew that it was not the falling into crime that would fuin us, but the lying in it. And I did not extenuate crime by apologizing for the inaction of our people. I argued that all collective crimes were conceived in darkness and nursed in secret, and challeidged the attention of men only in their effects and results, and that all our people wanted was time. They could not raise vigilance committees, as they were advised by the press, and go out to cutting and shooting their fellow-men, like the cruel Moors. Unexpected as was this deep display of blood-thirsty feelings, the country ought not to be surprised that our people were unprepared to meet it. We live in an age of surprise. The events of 1875 show us that it is impossible to count on what next week will bring. We never can outlive conspiracy until men are taken by the hand instead of the throat. I did not pause to deny that the follies and crimes of individuals in the county had lent plausibility to the maledictions then rife upon us, but insisted that the whole arcana of human ingenuity had been rifled to find a plan to stop it, and that it would be stopped by rewards. The mills of the gods ground slowly in our case, but they ground well. Some of the papers, in speaking of this county, had the skull and cross-bones at the head. I thought that reporters could denounce crime without a criminal and barbarous outrage on a community of honest men. Some of them evinced a reckless disregard for justice, fairness and truth, and spoke of us with a venom and zest that argued the basest kind of demoralization, which called for stern and outspoken rebuke from every honest and virtuous man. They tore down the protection of our reputation - the bulwark of society - and left us defenseless in the presence of malevolent villainy.

That anybody should delight in this kind of moral piracy, and leave a community open to the ravages of moral cormorants, is a melancholy subject to think upon. God never gave any man the right to poison the springs of happiness in this way. But it is unjust to charge the journalism of the country indiscriminately with this crime. There were some noble exceptions. The Joneshoro Gazette [and^ Illinois Journal maintained a dignified course toward us that was as commendable and just as it was prudent and wise. During the years 1874-5 this county had as good and trustworthy a set of Justices and Constables as any in the State, and all offenses, except assassinations, were as effectually punished.

On the fourth day of August, 1875, Governor Beveridge wrote to our Sheriff, offering to do all in his power to relieve the county whenever the Sheriff thought proper to call on him. At the August Special Term, 1875, the County Commissioners offered a reward of ^1,000 for each of the murderers of David Bulliner, James Henderson, Vincent Hinchcliff and William Spence, and on the 9th of August, the Governor issued a proclamation offering ^400 reward for the arrest and conviction of each of the criminals referred to, and also for the murderers of George W. Sisney and George Bulliner. And on the 2 2d of August, the Jackson County Court offered ^400 reward for the murderers of Sisney and Bulliner.

This was a gloomy period, but it was that gloom which preceded the dawn. It was the dark hour which ushered in the bright morning. Criminals leave gates open for detection. There are certain weak meshes in the network of devilish texture. We were just looking forward to the no distant day, when the dark veil that concealed the festering crimes of the county should be rent asunder by a daring and skillful hand. It came. Mrs. Waggoner told her brother, James H. Duncan, of Marion, who the guilty parties were. Mr. Duncan is a man about thirty-six years old, very intelligent, firm as a rock, and a man of remarkable courage. He could not withhold his efforts in behalf of his suffering countrymen, while they were bleeding at every vein. In him, the people felt that they had a leader in whom they could trust. A man of discretion and nerve, and though for a long time he was not publicly known in the work, yet he was backing all the efforts and laid all the plans. A woman told who were guilty, but it took a man of iron to arrest and bring them to justice. Mr. Duncan stood up firmly on the side of the people throughout the prosecutions, and but for his discretion and assistance, we might to-day be suffering the calamities of a Vendetta. He went to a "friend ' ' and told him he knew who killed Spence, and he intended to have them brought to justice, and he wanted some man to execute his plans. His "friend" advised him to get Benjamin F. Lowe, of Marion. Lowe agreed to go into it. Sam Music was the first man to be arrested. Lowe went to Cairo and inquired at the postoffice for a letter for Samuel Music ; being told that there was one, he told the postmaster not to let anybody have it but Music in person. Lowe then got the Deputy Sheriff, and in about an hour Samuel called for his letter and was arrested. Lowe brought him to Marion on the loth day of September. No confidence was put in this move by the people, and consequently no stir was made until Music was taken before Young, J. P. and asked time for trial. His case was set down for hearing September 20th, and he sent to jail. Two hours afterwards, through the influence of Captain Landrum, who promised him protection, he sent for the Sheriff and Circuit Clerk, and made a complete confession of killing Spence and Sisney, and implicated "Bigjep," "Black Bill," " Yaller Bill," Samuel R. Crain, Marshal Crain, John Bulliner and Allen Baker. Lowe then swore out writs against these parties for murder, and the Sheriff summoned a posse of twenty-five men and boarded the train for Crainville, seven miles west. Here "Bigjep," " Yaller Bill" and Samuel R.. were arrested. The Sheriff then went with a few men to "Black Bill's," and arrested him, and another party went after and got John Bulliner, and they were all brought to Marion that night and put under guard. Lowe went on to Carbondale and got Cain Brush, and went to DuQuoin after Allen Baker, who had moved up there awhile before. They found Baker at home, and Lowe said : " We want you to go to Marion for killing Spence." Baker made fun of the charge ; he got very mad, and Lowe took down a revolver which was sticking in the wall. Baker said, "You damned thief, put that back, or steal something else." Lowe said he would when it became necessary ; that he would look around - that he thought he could find a Bulliner gun, - this was their pistol. Lowe said, '-' I have been told that you are a brave man and a powerful man, and that you just eat men whole ; so don't be surprised if I act a little curious in your presence." Baker demanded their authority. Lowe told him to look at Brush and himself; they were the papers in the case. Lowe arrived in Marion with him next morning.

On Monday, the 13th, their case was called before John H. Reynolds, J. P., but by agreement was set down for hearing on the i6th. The prisoners were loosely guarded around town for a few days, and the people became indignant, and the Sheriff put them in jail. Music accused Bulliner, Baker and Samuel R. Grain with the murder of Sisney, in Jackson county. Lowe went before Murphy, J, P., in Murphysboro, and swore out a writ for them there, and Sheriff Kimball came over on the 15th, and took them over to the Jackson jail, where they were tried on the 2 2d, Music testifying against them, and Samuel R. released for want of evidence against him, and the others committed. The greatest excitement prevailed. A special term of the County Court was convened, and the State Attorney empowered to employ counsel to assist him. He employed the Hon. W. J. Allen and A. D. Duff, of Carbondale. The employment of these men produced a revolution in public sentiment. The rich men stepped to the front, and the bummers stepped aside. Landrum, Ogden, Nelson, Washburn, - Ferrell, Herring, Harrison, Goodall, Campbell, Grider, Mitchell, Young, and a host of others, who have stood up for the right and breasted the world's dark tide for the good of the county, came on the stage, holding up one hand to save the innocent, and the other to crush the guilty. And our imagination which had been so used to scenes of blood, was now playing over the rope and gallows ; and our ears, which had heard the shrieks of agonizing victims and the fierce yells of their savage slayers, were now saluted by the slogan of returning justice.

On Friday, September i6th, the case was called, the People proving the facts above detailed of the murder. The defense was an alibi, W, W. Clemens and J. B. Calvert appearing for the defendants. Two of the Jacks and two Craigs swore that " Black Bill " was eight miles away that fatal night. "Big Jep " proved his whereabouts by a dozen witnesses. Other minor facts were proven, and after a tedious examination of two days the Court committed all the defendants to jail, except Music, who never had any examination. Music said that Marshall had gone to his wife's aunt, in Missouri. Lowe then, in order to find out where his wife's aunt lived in Missouri, had his motherin-law subpoenaed as a witness against the boys before Reynolds. State Attorney Hartwell then told Mrs. Rich that he believed they were going to impeach her, as she had to swear for the People, and it would be necessary for him to know where her people lived, so as to be able to meet them. She said her sister lived in Butler county, Mo., and was married to Ben. Lewis. She was not used as a witness. Lowe left Marion after the trial and went to Makanda, Jackson county, and at ten o'clock in the night started out to the Smiths, in this county, who were relatives of the Crains. He found where Marshall's folks lived, so that he 7A could shun them, but it being nearly daylight, he went back to Makanda, and laid up all day. Starting out again at night, he soon found where Marshall and his wife had staid all night the night they left the country. It was a half mile east of Makanda. Marshall counted his money here, and said he had enough to go by St. Louis, and then to his uncle, Thomas Grain, in Boone county, Ark. They left here two weeks before for St. Louis, from where he went to Springfield, and then to Boone county, Ark., but returned to Butler county. Mo. He left his wife here with Dr. Adams, and started on foot to the Cherokee Bend to pick cotton, and had got sixty-five miles when he was arrested.

From Makanda, Lowe came to Marion, and on September 20th left for Butler county. Mo. On arriving there, he hired A. Thomas to go out to Dr. Adams and make a survey. He found that Marshall had left on foot for the Bend, carrying a pistol, a budget, and wearing velvet pants. The County Attorney wanted Lowe to remain there until Marshall returned, saying that Dr. Adams would report the fact ; but Lowe left Thomas to arrest him if he returned, and took the train for Corning, Ark,, thirty-three miles. Here he hired a constable, and left for the Cherokee Bend. Fifteen miles from here he struck Marshall's trail.

He had traveled through a wild, sunburnt, arid waste, whose solemn silence is rarely ever broken by the tread of a white man, and his tracks were plainly to be seen in the sand, where the thirsty earth gaped under the merciless sun. Marshall had given his name as "Grain," from Missouri, and had tried to hire at every place he came to. For fifteen miles Lowe followed his trail. Marshall was inquiring for Jacksonport, and Lowe, when asked what he wanted with him, would say, " he stole a watch up in Missouri." They came to a river, when the ferryman told them that Grain was at Mr. Gray's, a half mile ahead. They rode on up to the house, and a woman was standing at the gate, and when asked, said Marshall was in the house, with a chill on him. It was a double log house, with a bed-room between. Lowe went in, and Marshall was lying fast asleep on the bed. Lowe gave him a shake, and he awoke very suddenly, raised up and reached for his pistol over his head. Lowe pushed him back with a Derringer, and asked him his name. He said " Marshall Grain," and asked, *' who are you?" Lowe said, "You know me." Marsh said, "Yes, how are you, Frank Lowe?" The constable was at the foot of the bed. Lowe told him he had a warrant for his arrest, and asked him if he should read it. Marsh said, *' No," Lowe then tied him, and took his pistol, and put him on horseback behind himself. At this juncture Gray came out of the field, and Lowe apologized for the liberty he had taken. Gray said it was all right.

The sun was half-an hour high, and it was twelve miles to William Gossett's, the next house, where they arrived at lo o'clock. There they got supper. Frank then made a bed on the floor for Marsh, and hired a school teacher for ^2.00, to guard him, and lay down himself. He saw Marsh untying the rope from his legs ; he got it off. Frank rose and stopped him. Marsh said he would have jumped through the window and been gone in fifteen minutes. They started on, then, and arrived at Corning that evening. Marsh had a chill, and was put to bed in the hotel. Frank also had a chill. Marsh got something to eat, and then Frank called the jailer, and asked Marsh if he would go without a requisition ; if he would not, he would put him in jail and get one. Marsh said he wanted the men to understand that he was going to Illinois of his own free will. He was then handcuffed, and wanted Frank to write to his wife, who was ten miles in the country, that he was under arrest, going to Illinois, and that she must not try to come through on foot, but wait until she got money from him. He said she would come through on foot, if he did not tell her. He said she was too good for him, and he cared for nobody else on earth. Within four mijes of Cairo, Frank told him about the boys being in jail. He did not believe it. Frank produced a Globe-Democrat containing the proceedings at their trial, which satisfied him. Frank said, " Bulliner, Baker and Music have employed me to catch you, so they could swear it onto you, and then come clear; that was the arrangement." Marsh said, *-'! don't know so damned well ; they are as guilty as I am in the thing." They landed at Cairo Saturday, Sept. 28th, at 4 o'clock, a. m., and took a freight train for Carbondale. While going up, Marsh told Frank the whole story that he afterwards swore to. On the train he was very noisy, hallooing for Jeff. Davis, and talked freely of killing men. He was mad at everybody, and wanted to be unhandcuffed to fight men who asked him questions. At one place, ten or twelve men stood looking at him. He said, " If your eyes were in dogs' heads there would be sheep killed tonight." Well might he be excited, for he was in the hands of a powerful, shrewd, ingenious man, who brought every cunning contrivance, and subtle influence to bear on him, to get a confession out of him. It was a wonderful achievement, on the part of Lowe, to get a full confession out of a great criminal like Marshall Grain in so short a time. He was afraid of a mob, at Carbondale, and seemed anxious and reckless. When the whistle blowed at Carbondale he was frightened. Frank told him that the good people and officers of Carbondale would assist him against a mob, and if he had thought of danger he would have telegraphed to Marion for twenty men. He wanted to know if the people were very bitter against him. Frank told him they would only hang him, that was all. He said he did not care for his life.

At Carbondale the people did not know him, but presently John Crain came in and settled the matter. Frank took him out to the old house where he had concealed his gun the night he killed Sisney, to get some powder and shot which he said Allen Baker had put there for him to kill Sisney with. They found the powder. Frank -left him at Carbondale, where he received medical attention until Monday, when he was taken to the Murphysboro jail.

ernor promptly responded that he had sent loo rifles by express. The Sheriff also sent the names of Z. Hudgens for Captain, W. J. Pully first, and Wm. Hendrickson, for second Lieutenants, but these men were not commissioned. The guns arrived Saturday, the 21st, and an effort was made to raise a company of militia by the Sheriff which ended in a "big laugh." But on the 15th previous, W, N. Mitchell and J. W. Landrum returned from Springfield with power to raise two companies, which they did ; one at Marion and one at Carterville. The company at Marion was raised on the 25th, and the guns opened. J. V. Grider was elected Captain, Wm. Hendrickson first and W. [J. Pully, second Lieutenants. There was some opposition to the militia, but these officers were responsible, brave, cautious men, and did nothing to irritate the public, and went quietly along, doing their whole duty. The Carterville company elected Landrum Captain, Wm. Dowell first, and Wilshire Bandy second Lieutenants. A kind of local pride seized the surrounding counties at this time, and they were continually holding up the misfortunes of each other, and justifying themselves.

and went to trial at the same term, defended by F. E, Albright, of Murphysboro. Marshal Grain, who was taken from his cell one night, made a desperate effort to escape by running from his guard and falling on the ground, but was recaptured. He had been before the grand-jury and swore against Bulliner and Baker, but now formed the design of going back on what he had stated there, and clearing the boys; and wrote the fol-: lowing letter to them in jail, which he was probably persuaded to write :

"Allen, I want you and John to post-man Jack, Sam, Jack, and Tedford, Johnny Rich, Jeff, " Yaller Bill," Wesley and Sarah Rich that they were to have a surprise party at Sarah Rich's, and I came in eight or nine o'clock, on the night George Sisney was shot and that I was barefooted. I know I sent my boots and coat by Sam Music, but that won't convict me. Now, boys, do all you can for me and I will do all in my power for you. Employ the same lawyer for me that you and Allen have got. All is right; if I hang, I fear I will hang. John lecture for me in this case and clear me. When Spence was killed I was at Cal. Craig's. Prove this by him and other witnesses, tell to them that I was there about half after nine o'clock, on the night Sisney was killed,

Allen, you and John and all the boys will come clear. I shall swear that I was forced to swear what I did ; if I hang, it is all right. I shall swear that Sam Music told me that he killed Mr. Spence, and he told me that he was going to put ammunition in that house, so when he turned State's evidence he could make some proof. He told me this. Can you and John state too that he told you that he put it there when he was hauling for Landrum. If you and John come clear, go and post Mrs. Rich and Johnny, and Wesley and Anderson Thedford ; tell Ant. Thedford to swear he seen me close to his daddy's, at about nine o'clock, as he came from his daddy's. He said he would swear anything for me. Post James Craig and prove by these, and tell mother not to go back on me, and clear me; they can do it. Have they swore against me ? Tell Jim Craig I want to prove I was at his house by him and other witnesses when Spence was killed. Give information how I will move my trial to Marion."

This letter was to be destroyed by the boys ; but when Marsh went on the stand and denied as he was to, any knowledge of the killing of Sisney, Albright produced this letter, and asked him if he wrote it. Marsh saw the point to this, that he was to be made the guilty party, and he turned like a furious lion and swore them both to prison. Music also swore the facts heretofore detailed. The case closed on the 12th of October, after lasting a week. On the next day the jury brought in a verdict of guilty, with the penalty of twentyfive years in the State prison. The case was prosecuted by State's Attorney Pugh, and Duff and Allen, the latter of whom made the finest law speech probably ever made in the West. The prisoners were jovial and noisy until the verdict came in, when a sad, heavy, forlorn expression settled on the brow of Bulliner, never to be removed. Baker was evidently at his father's house, in Carbondale, the night that Sisney was killed. He lived about two miles east of there, and went home about ten o'clock that night, and when arrested told Mrs. Hill, with whom he and his wife boarded, that his lifa depended on what she swore, and suggested that he came home about nine o'clock, but did not ask her to swear falsely. She swore to this conversation, and it ruined him. The powder and shot which they proved he bought, was probably left at Purdy's mill. He had had a difficulty with Purdy a while before. $200.00 worth of belts were cut to pieces, and some powder, shot and caps found lying there. Baker is about thirty-three years old, fair com- plexion, long black hair, thin build, and has a desperate-looking gray eye; raised in this county. He was considered a wild reckless, uncertain fellow. He once killed a man near Pine Bluff, Arkansas, while a soldier, and was sentenced to six months' imprisonment in the military prison. He had been married for some months. Marshall Grain once said to me, " Milo, I have got religion as to all my sins but one, and I want to ask you abost 1-hat." "What is it?" I asked. He answered, "You know I swore a lie against Allen Baker ; it was me that killed Sisney, and I swore that it was him." 1 asked him why he did it. He said, "To save my own neck." I told him that I was no preacher, but that if he acted in good faith to save his own neck, it was no sin, but I thought self-defense ; that a man had a right to exert all the powers which God had given him, to save his neck, either to swear a lie or take life. He said that was looking at it in a new light. I said, "Then, Marsh, Baker is not guilty?" He replied, "Well - yes - God d - him; he got nothing but justice. He was always agreeing, promising and contracting, but I never could get him on the grounds."

the penitentiary, and she returned home, to live through black days and nights, with the clumsy and crude condolence this world gives, and now lives in a little cottage, a half-mile north of the Bulliner homestead. Her life speaks, and her children read in it, ** No ray of light for the future." Henceforth she can say, "I'll bear affliction till it do cry out itself enough, enough, and die." The scene of beauty and delight is changed. No roses bloom upon her faded cheeks. No laughing graces, wanton in her eyes ; but grief, lean-looking, sallow care and pining discontent;, a rueful train dwells on her brow, all forlorn."

At the October session of the Williamson Circuit Court, Music, "Bigjep," "Black Bill," "Yaller Bill," and Marshall, were all indicted for the murder of Spence. Music's case was continued ; Noah W. Grain alias "Yaller Bill," was admitted to bail on motion ; William J. Crain alias "Bigjep," and William J. Crain alias "Black Bill " prayed for a change of venue, and their case was sent to Alexander county. The' indictment against "YallerBill" was nolled 2X the April term, 1876. On Tuesday, October 19, 1875, Marshall T. Crain was arraigned and plead not guilty. He had no attorney, and the Court appointed W. W. Clemens, who filed an affidavit for a continuance, which the Judge said was not sufficient. On Wednesday, October 20th, the defendant again renewed his motion for a continuance. The Judge said he could not entertain two motions for a continuance, but that every witness, mentioned in the affidavit, should be here to-morrow. The defendant then in person withdrew his plea of not guilty, and entered one of guilty to the crime of murder, as charged. To this the State's Attorney objected, saying that he could not withdraw his plea of not guilty. The defendant insisted by himself and counsel that he had a right to plead guilty, and throw himself upon the mercy of the Court. The Court then fully explained to the defendant all his rights, and the consequence of entering a plea of guilty ; when the defendant again, after a full knowledge of all his rights, entered a plea of guilty. The Court then had the indictment again read to the defendant, and then again asked him if he was guilty or not, and the defendant again pleaded guilty to murder. The Court then ordered a jury called, when Crain said he did not want a jury, that he threw himself on the mercy of the Court. Then Judge Crawford ordered the plea of guilty to be entered, and the case continued until Thursday. On that day witnesses were called and

During the examination of witnesses the court room became crowded with ladies and gentlemen. Marshall's wife came in and took a seat by him. She is a small, sallow, serene, calm-looking woman, with a half-closed, glassy, soulless eye. She seemed perfectly indifferent to the battery of eyes upon her. At the close of the evidence, Marshall, who had set like a statue, only occasionally laughing, seemed nervous and excited. After . a few minutes of awful suspense. Judge M. C. Crawford said ;

"It is not often that we are called to decide a question of so great importance as this. Marshall Grain has been indicted, arraigned and now acknowledges himself guilty of the highest crime known to the law." Here he rehearsed the manner of his pleading guilty, and said, " It is natural for all men to avoid serious responsibility, and I would much rather his case had been tried by a jury ; but the defendant persisted in his plea of guilty, and threw himself on the mercy of the Gourt ; and that I might act advisedly, I had the witnesses summoned and brought to court to see if the plea was really true, as pleaded in this case ; and it clearly appears, not only by the plea, but by the mouths of witnesses, that the defendant is guilty of murder. A murder that seldom occurs in any country, and among any people, a murder without passion. Out in the still woods, God's first temple, they coolly and deliberately planned to take the life of their fellow-man," Here the judge and the whole audience were bathed in tears. He then went over the circumstances of the killing in a feeling and touching manner, and continued, '* The Legislature, in making the death penalty, clearly contemplated that there would cases arise which would deserve this penalty." Again he rehearsed the facts to see if they met the requirements of the highest penalty. -" By the law we stand or fall. No other crime equals this in coolness, and by all the laws of God and man, this man has forfeited his life to the people of the State. The responsibility is a great one. I hope to God that never again will a court in a civilized country have this duty to do." Here Judge Crawford burst out in a flood of tears, and after a short pause, dashed the tears from his eyes, his face lighted up with an unearthly radiance, he said, " The People and my position make it my duty to administer the law and pronounce its judgment, and before my

God and ray fellow-man, I must do my duty. What have you to say, Marshall Grain, why sentence of death shall not be pronounced against you ?' '

Marshall, with a chilled and torpid color, a cold moisture gleaming on his forehead, a severe and majestic expression in his eye, notably intensified by the strong language of Judge Crawford, rose, and in a clear voice said, " I have had no time to prepare for trial. I have been forced into trial. I have been indicted and tried (twoand-a-half days) without time to consult a lawyer. I was dragged into this work by other parties. I had a higher power and influence over me. I could not resist. I don't think I have done enough to be hung for. Spence was harboring parties that were trying to kill me. I don't think I deserve hanging. I was influenced by John Bulliner, a man of good mind and education, and I am not a man of good mind, and no education."

Crawford said ; " I am now about to pronounce against you the highest penalty of the law, and in all probability the sentence will be executed, and you»will have to appear before a bar transcendently greater than this. There remains but few powers that can give you relief. The Chief Executive may interfere and commute your sentence or pardon you, and the Supreme Court may reverse your judgment ; but it is my duty to tell you that neither of these will likely be done. Therefore, I warn you to make your peace with God." Here he spoke of the consolation of the Christian Religion, and said : "I will call upon you. Marshal Grain, as a living witness, that I have warned you to prepare to meet your God," and continued : " The sentence of the Court is that the defendant be hanged by the neck until he is dead, within the walls of the prison in the town of Marion, County of Williamson and State of Illinois, on the 21st day of January, A. D. 1876, between the hours of ten o'clock in the morning and two o'clock in the afternoon of the same day. May God have mercy upon you."

As Grain was taken to the jail he boasted to the guards that he would never shed a tear. The next day, he asked permission to come before Judge Crawford and tell all he knew about the bloody Vendetta. But he was sent to the grand jury and confessed the facts detailed by Music, as to himself; but was taken from there, screaming at the top of his voice, and his atoning lamentations were heard around the jail for several days. The same day he wrote a letter to Crawford, telling him he had done his duty, and he hoped he would continue 7B to do it, and that the people would forgive him for his crimes, and that the county might "be restored to its original peace and prosperity.

At the same term of Court, Calvin Craig, Robert Craig, Monroe Jack and John Jack were indicted for perjury for swearing the alibi for " Black Bill," before Reynolds, J. P.

After the sentence of Crain, a guard of ten men were detailed from the militia to guard the jail by night and two by day. This guard did its duty faithfully until after the execution. Nightly attacks were expected from the "Ku-klux," which we're supposed to exist in the county. The guards were often summoned to fall into line at some apparent alarm.