Madison County, Indiana - Chapter 32, 1897

Chapter 32

In the early history of many of the counties of Indiana, and, in fact, for many years afterward, " shooting matches," as they were termed, were a leading sport, or amusement, among a large portion of the people, and thev were generally attended by the male portion of the community for miles around. The best shots with the rifie were generally rewarded with turkeys, the " hind '" or '' fore " quarter of a beef, and, sometimes, money. Thev rarely failed to attract large crowds of men from the excitement and social enjoyment tliat attended them, and, even 3'et, " shooting matches'" are occasionally heard of, but rarely, any more.

One of these matches occurred in this county in 1847, that w-as attended, from what followed before the people dispersed to their homes, with unusual excitement. Only a short distance west of the Mounds, near the bank of White river, on what is known as the Samuel Hill farm, where there was a distiller}', a match for shooting had been arranged and extensive notice called to it for some days before. It was in November, on Thanksgiving Day of that year.

The air was somewhat cold and the sky overhead dark and forbidding, but it did not fail to draw out a large crowd of people to witness the shooting, and fully two hundred persons were on hand, among them some of the best ''shots" of that time in the county. The crowd was feeling in the best of humor, and the sport proceeded along finelv for two or three hours after midday.

Two young men. Cox and Tharp, were among those in attendance, but neither probably anticipated the dreadful tragedy soon to follow, or the hurried retreat and permanent exile of one of them from the countv.

There had been some previous trouble between the two men, but not of such a nature as to suggest danger or death to either. Tliarp was tiie larger of the two, and inclined to be somewhat doiiiiiieeiing in his actions to his smaller opponent, Cox. Tharp had had some trouble during the progress of the match, and Co.x, it seems, had avoided his enemy by retreating from him two or three times. Goaded at last, it would appear, when forbearance had ceased to be a virtue. Cox seized the rifle of a bystander, rusiied up to where Tharp ^vas standing witii liis right side fronting him, and raising it iiigh over his shoulder brought the barrel of it witii full force upon his head. Tliarp dropped to the earth as if shot, and never arose again. Immense excitement followed, of course. Botli men had friends on the ground, and threats from both sides were passed rapidly back and forth. Tiiarp was placed in a wagon, brought to his home in Anderson, but died during the night from the effect of tiie blow, iiaving never spoken.

An examination after death showed a fractured skull, and that death ditl not come at once i> marvelous. Cox soon after crossed over to iiis iiome about a mile lo tiie northwest, and next morning \va'= arrested and placed in iail. As is usual in cases of tills kind some loud tiireats by a few friends of the dead man were indulged in, but the better sense of the community prevailed, and tiie matter was given o\er to the grand jurv to investigate and report upon. Cox had many warm friends wlio considered tliat he had been imposed upon, and was not really responsible tor the untimely taking oft' of Tharp.

The grand jury soon convened, reported an indictment against him for murder, and preparations began for his trial. The jail, an old log aft'air. was situated in the northwest corner of the square, its main entrance fronting to the south. The .Sheriff at that time was John II. Davis.

And here begins a final feature of the affair altogether unanticipated, and which brought to it a termination much sooner than the general public had been led to suppose. A few friends of Cox were permitted to visit him every few days. They discussed quietly with him the probable results of his trial. It was feared by all of them that the best that he could hope for would by a long term of twelve or fifteen years in the penitentiary. They all feared a verdict, while they considered that he had acted in self defense. Aftertalking the matter over from every point it was determined that he should break jail and leave the county forever. He assented and he readily agreed to makg the attempt, and wiiich, as we will subsequently see. was crowned with success. Fi\e true and determined men were given the secret, and tliese five, it was said, brought it about. The strictest secrecy was enjoined upon all and the night was selected when he was to rush forth to freedom. During the occasional visits of his friends an impress of the lock in beeswax was taken. This was used in patterning an iron key that would fit the lock. After it was finished it was found to work exactly. It unlocked the door to the jail readily. All was well thus far. The ne.xt thing was to select the night and make final preparations.

One can fancy how the hearts of tliese fixe friends must have beaten as the hour drew nigh for Cox to come forth. The slightest mishap might upset all their plans and they themselves be locked behind the holts and of the same prison from which they were striving to liberate their friend. Cox was the owner of a fine horse, -" Selam," a good roadster, strong of wind and ''good bottom." He was to be used in carrying his owner away from trouble. -'Selam'" was brought to town one afternoon and thoroughly sliod for the journevat the blacksmith shop in the south part of the town near where the school building on Main street is situated. One of his friends went to the jail and told him to prepare to start that night at about the hour of 11 o'clock. Near that hour the five friends, one of them leading "Selam,'" approached cautiouslv and noiselesslv to the jail building from the west side of the square.

It was cokl on the night in (|uestion, a slight snow was falling, the town was in deep slumber and onlv a faint, dim light could occasionally be seen from some building in the vicinity.

Slowly and with cat-like tread the jail is reached, the door is unlocked and in low tones Cox is told to come forth, lie does so at once, and for the first time in weeks, breathes the air of freedom and after a hurried conversation regarding directions he mounts the faithful liorse. " Farewell, may God protect you" is heard, and a cordial final shaking of hands all aroimd and he is off" bidding farewell forever to Madison county. He moved in a westerly course. The night was extremely dark, and was lighted onlv bv an occasional star from behind the dark passing clouds, but he moves on as fast as old " Selam ' could carrv him, animated no doubt by the fear that earl)- next morning ofhcers may follow and overtake him, and that he may yet be compelled to undergo imprisonment behind the gloomy walls of the penitentiarv. He rode that night, it was afterwards ascertained, twentv miles before stopping, crossing tlie river at Perkinsville, and proceeding in a nortli westerly direction. His first stop was in the nortliern part of Hamilton county at a farm house, where he remained until the afternoon, to feed and rest his horse.

The next morning after his flight immense excitement was created in Anderson at the discover^' that Cox was missing. How it was done and who did it were puzzling tjuestions that every one was asking. Many were glad of it while others condemned the officers for their carelessness. Officers were .sent in various directions and posters sent describing the escaped prisoner. This was in the days before telephones, telegraphs, and railroads were known, and it was a mucii more difficult matter to trace and catch criminals than in this fast age.

The night of the escape a heavj' snow fell and it was impossible for sometime for tlie officers to ascertain in which direction he had gone, which was all the better for the fleeing man. Finally they got on the right course and traced Cox as far northwest as Logansport where it was found that he had crossed the Wabash river about the third day after leaving Anderson. After this nothing relialjle as to his course in lea\ing the Wabash could be ascertained, and, after a few weeks, pursuit was abandoned altogether. The friends of Cox mingled with the citizens of the town the day after the escape wondering (?) how it was done and condemning in no mild terms the want of vigilance on the part of the officials. One of these live men, who was generally suspected as an '- aider and abetter " in the liberation of Co.x, is yet among the living of Madison county, and as we observe his slow treading ste]is and bent foim as he passes along the streets, we fancy hemust, in his mind, recur to his part in the affair of near a half a century ago with mingled feelings of satisfaction to himself, if to none other, and what a thrill of excitement must occasionally pervade his thoughts as the stormy night, the ijuiet march to the jail, the appearance of Cox, and his cjuiet disappearance in the darkness all appear before him. -

A plain marble slab, properly sculptured, onlv a few rods to the northeast from the main entrance to the Anderson cemetery marks the spot where repose the remains of Tharp. the unfortunate victim of a tragedy of so much excitement in the long ago, and here the winds of near a half centurv have sung their sad requiems over his grave.

ot Matlison coiintv, during u journey througli the west, in his route had occasion to pass through the west, part of Wisconsin, in St. Croix county-. Here in a small town he came unexpectedly across Cox, who had disappeared so suddenly in the winter of 1847. Both recognized each other at once and their greetings were cordial. Little or no reference was made to the trouble " back in Indiana," a t)uarter of a century before, and Cox did not seem in the least flustered or nervous at meeting the individual that knew a full history of his former difficulty. He may yet be alive, but if >o, is no doubt gray and bent with the weight of seventy or eighty years upon him and as each annual occurring "Thanksgiving Day"' appears he would gladly blot from memory that of 1847.

I'.I.Ood Was Oisplaved

The campaign of 1868, the first to take place after the close of the Civil war, was one that will long remain green in the memories of those who lived in this county and took part in it. There never has been one since that has been accompanied with so much ill feeling, hot blood, or hatred, as that memorable political fight. The campaign started in early, and the battle raged fiercely until the last gun was fired. General Grant was the nominee of the Republican party, and Horatio Seymour the Democratic leader. Tiie Democrats started in by ratifying the nomination of Horatio Seymour for the presidency, in July, by the firing of cannon and speechmaking in the Court House yard, on which occasion Jacob Hubbard, whiU- ramming a load in the cannon, had his arm blown off by a jjremature explosion, an account of which is elsewhere related.

The Republicans had a well organized body of men in uniform, well drilled for political parade. " The Fighting Boys in Blue, "" at the heatl of which was Captain C. T. Doxey, who was then young, energetic and full of life, just fresh from the seat of war. The Democrats had the largest political uniformed club that was ever organized in the county, numbering one thousand strong. Captain B. B. Campbell was the commander. The organization was known as the -' White Boys in Blue."" This was one of the finest look- ing political clubs that ever marched through the city of Anderson ; their uniforms were blue pants, zoua\e style. wliite waists and blue caps.

During the campaign Mrs. J. M. Dickson, who was one of Madison county's best Democratic women, presented the boys rt flag in a hand=ome speech from the veranda of her residence at the corner of Fourteenth and Jackson streets, which was received with cheers and music. The boys carried that Hag from one end of the State to tiie other. The two political parties vied with each other in all public demonstrations, trj-ing to outdo each other in splendor and attractions. A great deal of bad feeling existed on both sides, but no serious results came of it until the closing days of the campaign. The Republicans had a grand "rally'' at Anderson. It was to be the last struggle of the battle. This was, perhaps, the largest jiolitical gathering that e\er occurred in this county. Everv Republican county withiii fifty miles of Anderson sent delegations to swell the crowd and overawe the Democracy of Madison county. During the day, as is usual, some of the boys drank fieely and became very loud. Xeal Daugherty was then a Democrat and was city marshal. He arrested several of the lads and placed tiiem in the "coop." The news spread like wild-tire. The Democratic city officials were arresting and incarcerating in jail the Republican boys. It was no time until the town was all shaken up w ith excitement.

Wesley Dunham was then Mayor and James II. AlcConnell was city prosecutor. A rush was made for the Mayor's ofHce and a demand made for the release of the boys who had been placed in jail. Clubs, pistols and kni\'es were nourished over and around Mayor Dunham aiul Marshal Daugherty's heads and threats of all kinds of violence v\ ere made if the prisoners were not released. Mayor Dunham stood like a stone wall and faced the infuriated crowd, backed by the steady nerve of Neal Daughert}' and J. H. McConnell. He flatly refused to issue any order for the discliargc of the prisoners, as they were transgressors against the law and were arrested for that and not for any political reasons. Some one in the crowd cried out, " Rescue them! Tear down the jail! " In a moment the excited crowd rushed toward the old jail, at the corner of Ninth and Jackson streets.

He took his place in tlie jail yard, and in a gentlemanly way ordered the crowd not to enter the premises, warning them that whoever did so did it at his peril. The crowd halted for consultation. About this time Captain W. R. Myers, who was then a Republican leader in MadisonI county, appeared upon the scene and took his station in the jail yard, and in a few well-timed remarks shamed the crowd out of any attempt to tear down the jail, telling them that the laws of the land had been transgressed, and there was no disposition on the part of the city officials to do anything but their dutv : that as soon as possible the transgressors should be taken before the Mayor and their cases lawfully disposed of. This speech had the effect to disperse the crowd, and saved the jail from being torn down, and, perhaps, the shedding of blood.

Matt Tob'n then kept a saloon in the alley between Ninth and Tenth streets, south of Main. His place was raitled and cleaned'out. Pistols, knives and bludgeons were drawn on him, but he faced his assailants and showed them fight. He was not personally injured, but had a close call.

Henrj' Bronnenbeig, the present County Commissioner, was in town on that day. Some one reported that lie had shouted for Jefl'. Davis. A rush was made for him, but Henry was too slick for them. He rode a gray mare tiiat could out run the m ind. He took toward home, hundreds of fellows on foot and horse back following him, jelling and shouting like Indians on the trail ; but to no purpose. Bronnenberg sat on his racer, looking liack at his pursuers at intervals, sending back a shot from a revolver. Xo one was hit either by him or his pursuers. He crossed the river near Jackson's old mill that used to stand on the river near the crossing of the Pan Handle and Bee Line railroads, becoming lost to sight in the woods that was then along the river. Oliver Mv'ers, a brother of Captain Myers, was coming to town riding a gray horse nearly the same color as Bronnenberg's. The crowd met him, and thinking he was Bronnenberg, coming back towards them, c:ime very near killing him before he could explain who he was. It took some tall talking from Mr, Myers to save his scalp, but at last he succeeded in getting them convinced that he was not the man they were after. Bronnenberg returned to the city in a short time, but was not molested.

Tlie larger portion of those who wanted to take the town came from other counties, wliilst there were some in Anderson who egged "" them on. The best element did not approve of it and denounced it. In that campaign Captain B. B. Campbell, who was at the head of the " White Boy.s in Blue," took his command to Indianapolis to a State raUv. While there they got into an altercation with the Republican authorities, and Captan Campbell, in defense of the rights of his men. drew his >~word anil struck one of his assailants o\er the head, giving him a severe wound. No man ever had command of a political club in this countv who had the perfect control over his men and conimandetl their entire respect as did Captain Cami^bell. He could have led them into the depths of bloodv battle, lire or flame, and not a man would h.ive flinched. Time has changed and mellowed down those who yet live, who took part in that political fight. The manv neighbors who then h;iled each other for^ political reasons are the best of friends now.

Captain Campbell and Major Doxej', the central figures in that exciting conflict, who used to walk on opposite sides of the street from each other - aie now the warmest of old cronies, often in a crowd together, talking, no doubt thinking, about their foolishness in those by-gone days.

Politics, as well as other things, have since then changed. Captain Myers is now one of the wheel hor.ses of the Democracy. W. A. Kittinger, then a Democrat, is a red hot Republican. Xeal Daugherty, then a Democrat, is now a Republican, and so the world goes on.

Burkett Eads ^vas one of Madison comity's old-timers. He died in Anderson about the year 18(5(3, while filling the office of ccjuntv Recorder. He was born in \'irginia, where he married ; he removed to Kentucky, where he lived for a short time, moving to Henry county, and from thence to this county, where he spent the remainder of his days. In 1856 he was elected Sheriff, and in 18()4 became Recorder, which place he filled during the war. He was a sterling Democrat. There was no compromise in his make-up. Democracy was his only religion. During his term of office congress passed a law reqi:iring all deeds and mortgages to be stamped with a one- dollar revenue stamp ; it also required a certiticate of the officer taking the acknowledgement, that it was duly stamped according to law. It also gave the Recorder a twentv-five-cent lee for recording the certiticate.

The government has passetl a law requiring me to record this certiticate, that your deed is properly stamped. You have voted for this law, now you can pay for it."

He had a nickname for every one. He imnu-diately named every stranger who came to town. He called Armstrong Taylor -' Snakeroot :"' Richard Lake, he called "The Arabian Dick;"' Michael Doll, he called "Snake-head;'' Ephraim Doll, he called -' Blacksnake."

During the war, wlien excitement ran high, a comjian}' of soldiers was passing through the town and undertook to take the place. They raided all the county officers, and put them all to flight except Burkett Eads, who entrenched himself in his office, and showed fight; defying them, they passed on and let him alone.

When he lived in Henry county it was at an early day - when people cut their grain witli a hand sickle. Burkett Eads had the distinction of being the fastest reaper in the county. His oldest son, Edward Eads, committed suicide beneath a large beech tree in Liberty township, Henry county, by shooting his brains out with a rifle, while out hunting, caused by melancholy from being jilted by his lady love.

The widow Eads \\\ed there for many years after her husband's death, and died but a short time since. John Eads, his son. is yet living soutli of the citv ; he is a prosperous farmer and brick manufacturer. Burkett Eads was, during his lifetime, one of the most popular and successful politicians who ever lived in Madison county; as honest as the day was long, generous to a fault, universally loved and esteemed by all, and leaving a host of friends to mourn his loss when he died.

Georjre Arin>tr()nn- was one of the char;icters of Madiscin county - a shoe-maker by trade, and an Irishman bv birtli. He read all the papers and was posted on the general political situation. He could often droji in a remark in regartl to tiie political situation in a caucus that would open the eyes of the rinu; masters "' in local politics, coming as it did from one wliollj- unpretentious and unassuming.

(ieorge had a bee ; it buzzed in his ear for a great many jears. He thought he was cut out for some ofHce. He often remarked that "many friends" had solicited him to enter the arena, but somehow lie could not get the consent of his mind to lea\e his business, but at last he concluded that Shake - spearc's'lines were true, which say :

So. after much careful deliberation and advice from friends. (Jeorge announced himself a candidate for Coroner of Madison county. The campaign was a short, decisive one, and George got left. Did he kick.' No, you bet your life he diiin't.

(jeorge Armstrong was a Democrat from away back. The principles of Democracy were woven in his make-up. djed in the wool, warranted not to fade. He ga\e the entire summer following to the cause of the campaign. He made it his business to solicit votes for his successful opponent who had defeated him in the spring nomination. When the election came round, the entire ticket was elected and (ieorge was happy.

Time rolled on until another nomination came on. George, not satisfied with his first venture, tried his luck again which resulted in his triumphant success. He was nominated and elected, filling the office to the satisfaction of his parl\ , until the time of his death when Dr. Spann was appointed to till the vacancy.

you are t'oolin' away your time running over the country ? We are all for you.' And I saw a great many and they were all for me. vSo, by gara, I comes home and goes to work on the bench, sure that I was there. What d'ye think? When the namination came off I was not heard of, bv gara. Ye could put my vote through the eye of a nadle. Well, thinks says I, they'll not fool me tlie next time. So when I went for the namination the last time I went to get it. ^Vhin a man told me he was for me I didn't believe a d - n word of it, but rather counted him "ferninst" me. But vou bet y'our life I didn't let them send me home with mv ears full of tafl'v. I staid out in the countrv. and argayed with them and plead my cause to every Democrat in Madison county, until the last da}% and you see, man, what I done. I tell you politics is a desavin thing. A man whose word would be taken without swearing in court on any otlier subject, won't do to trust on oath in politics."'

George was very nearly riglit about it. The man who -wins in a political race, must be wide awake and trust no one ^vith his secrets, and use all kinds of schemes and de\ ices to pull the wool over the eyes of tlie people.

On the .'jth of August in lSt<l. news reached Anderson from Neillsville, Wisconsin, that Edward Lemon, a former resident of this city, liad committed suicide. This was his third attempt, and it is said the third time is the ciiarm, and the saying was verified in this case. When the news reached this citj- that he had committed suicide, but few people who acquainted with the waggish wa3s of the deceased, gave the story anv credence, as they supposed that it was another one of his efforts to "sell" the people, for which he always manifested a desire, but telegrams and letters received in a few days thereafter, confirmed the report of tlie fact that lie had finally' terminated his life by taking laudanum.

When he took the poison he went to the office of the Neillsville Press and extracted from tlie editor a promise of secrecy. He told his story of how he was about to end his life as the fatal draught had already been taken. The editor lost no time in sending for medical aid, which greatly incensed Mr. Lemon, for he said he was bound to go. He told the editor to write him up in fine style, and to say, " I died in the blessed hope of a glorious immortality.'" He also wanted

Tiiis talk on the part of Lemon led the physicians to believe that he was playing a joke, and nothing was done for him until he fell back in his chair, limp and helpless.

Only the winter previous Lemon had attempted suicide in Anderson and barely escaped death, and about three months before this occurrence he had made a similar attempt at Minneapolis. From Garrett \\ . Brown, who was an uncle of the deceased, and who lived in Anderson previous to this time, it was learned that there was no particular clui' lo the cause of Lemon "s desire to end his life. He had on one occasion informed Mr. Brown that the reason that he had attempted to end his life was that he was constantly harrassed bv an irresistible desire for strong drink, and that rather than be a common drunkard he would end his existence. He knew of several druuk;ird>. in Anderson and rather than become so loathsome as they were lo the public, he would end his life.

Lemon was well known to the population of Anderson as ^vell as to a large number of people throughout the country. He was bright and a natural wag; he was always getting oil' some practical joke.

At the time he attempted suicitle in Anderson, he was taken to the Do.xev Hotel where he was attended by Dr. William Suman, who inserted a stomach pump for the purpose of pumjiing out the poison. While his friends were standing around tilled with the seriousness of the hour, and trying to do all they could to save the unfortunate man"s life. Lemon cried out, Doc, wouldn't they be in a hell of a fix if a fire would break out now while you have got this engine down my throat ? "' This caused the persons assembled to indulge in a hearty laugh, even though the occasion was a very serious one.

Dr. Suman succeeded in extricating him from his perilous condition, and on the next day Lemon was on the streets practicing his usual line of jokes as though nothing had occurred. His wit knew no bounds; he was a great mimic, and could imitate to perfection the voice of anv public speaker he had ever heard, also of birds and animals. He was a ready writer and his forte was really that of a funny man.

called -' The Dainside Farm." in which he ridiculed some of the old-timers of Ander.son in elegant style. lie gave the description of the costumes of all those who were present, and the full details of this affair in such language and ^uch terse words that nothing eUe could have been done to m,;ke it more ridiculous. The reason for writing this article was that a gentleman well known in Anderson iiad given a swell reception, after which the afl'air was liberally written up for the Anderson J)c»tocrat, and among the guests were a great many people for whom Lemon did not ha\e the best of feeling, and therefore he had written this article as a "take off."" Mr. Lemon is pleasantlv remembered elsewhere in these pages. He. like all of us, had his faults, but had many virtues, \vhich, to a large extent, overbalanced all his shortcoming-..

One of the most de>tructive cyclones that ever visited Madison county occurred on Wednesday. May 12. lS8(i. The tract over which it passed was made almost a waste, being about a mile and a half wide and four or five miles long, extending east and west. Great damage was done to the wheat fields, and other crops were laid waste. Llouses, barns and stables were moved from their foundations, shattered and unroofed, and some blown down. Large forest trees in great numbers were broken off and thrown together. Many fine orchards were ruined, and rail fences were blown to the four winds. A terrible flood of rain accompanied the .storm, covering the surt"ace of the ground to a depth of several feet.

Among the buildings damaged was the Waggy school house, south of Anderson, which had its roof and gable blown oft'. On the farm of Samuel Cridge a large amount of timber and fences was blown down anil destroyed. I~)r. Robinson, who lived two miles south on the Columbus piKC, had a fine orchard entirely obliterated. J. D. WiUon. in the same neighborhood, had live hogs drowned, and the roof taken off his house. I'eter Miller. li\ing about two miles south of Anderson, had his stable blown down aiul all his fencing completely scattered. The residence of William llanm-son was considerably damaged.

James Shinkle. of Anderson, who lived on \Vest Tenth street, had been to Xolilesville and was driving home. When near the residence of William P. Davis, west of Anderson, he drove into a culveii tliat had bcc-n washed out, and one of his iiorses bv breakin<^ througii into it, was seriously injured. C^uite :i hir<fe excavation was made under the Pan Handle railway, near the Myers ford, the water causing the section hands lo work for the balance of the night and all of the next day in patching up the road so that trains could pass. In the house of John »\ldridge. on East Ninth street, in Anderson, the water stood to the depth of several feet in the first storv. A large three-story brick llouring mill at Pendleton, was also flooded with water, and under the pressure of the surging waves in Fall creek, the foundation crumbled and was partially washed away, d<jing much damage.

This terrible storm will long be remembered by the inhabitants of Madison coimty, over whom it passed. At one time it seemed as if every one living within its course would meet with instant death.

When the Flon. Ilcrv^' Craven was Judge of the JMadison Circuit Court there were many incidents occurred that would now seem at least odd in a court of justice. Craven was one of those men who was built with the rough side out. Every one who knew liini hclieved him to be an lionest man, however much thev might have disliked his rough ways and uncouth manner on the bench. No one would ever have been s(, liold as to try to wrongfully sway his judgment. It would not have been safe. He, with all his gruff ways and outward signs of independence, was awav down, one of the most sensitive of men. He disliked to be criticised or talked about as much as any one. Dining his occupancy of the bench many of the attorneys got on tlu' '- otl" side '" of him, either from real or imaginary causes, many of them taking changes of venue from him as Judge. He soon caught on _to the fact that in many cases it was purely personal. In all such cases he woulil call Joshua Jones, of Tipton county, to try their cases. Joshua was not the most prol'ound lawyer in the world, but did not seem to know it. When he was called to try a case it had to tie tried at all hazard. Attorneys, jurors, citizens or tax payers could not head him oft". If the issues were not made up in the case he ordered the attorneys to at once join them, or have their cases dismissed. Tliey would many times squirm and plead for time, but it was "no go." Joshua was in command. The trial had to go or '' bust."

Judge Craven was generally a quiet spectator to Judge Jones' actions, and was nearly tickled to death to see Joshua --twist their tails," as he termed it.

One time Joshua was the attorney in a case before Judj^e Craven and a jury, in which Isaac Dehoritj', of Diickcreek township, was the defendant. Joshua was for the plaintiff m the case. He was doing his best for his client, from the fact that he had a dislike for the defendant, as' well as from legal reasons for winning his case. It was a long, tedious trial, there being many witnesses on both sides. The testimony rather preponderated on Dehority's side. Joshua felt that unless something was done almost superhuman lie must lose. So he made up his mind that he would make a heroic argument before the jury and possibl)' save the dav. The opposing counsel had made a stirring speech, summing up the evidence in direct bearing upon the issues of the case, when he gave wa,y for Joshua to close. He sailed in, in regular spread-eagle style, touching but slightly on the evidence, dwelling upon the fact that his client was poor, etc., to catch the .sympathv of the jury. The court was giving him all the string he wanted and finally he got to his fullest height. He swelled up and said: " Cjentlemen of the jury, where was Isaac Dehority, the defendant in this case, while my client was baring his breast to the storms of battle, fighting in defense of that old flag we love so well.' I sav, where was he? I'll tell vou where he was. He was lurking around home, basking his d - d rebel carcass in the swamps of Madison count v."' The Judge at this point broke in with, " (Jive 'em hell, [oshua."

He spoke for an hour and half in this strain, getting tiie jury worked up to a pitch where e\idence, law or gospel would not have stood in their wav. tinallv bringing in a ver- <lict for Joshua's client.

As far back as the oldest inhahilant can remember, the Democratic conventions for the purpose of arranging the preliminary work of the campaign, had been held in the old court house until it was destroyed by tire in December, 18S0. The coming of the time for the biennial mass meeting of the Democratic hosts, was anxiously looked forward to by a large number of the rural politicians ; in fact, their actions in the mass conventions were about all thev got out of politics. They made motions, oft'ered resolutions, made speeches and

Among the man}- who were prominent in these conventions, was (Jeorge Fesler, of Ovid. For vears he was a regular attendant and took a prominent part in the deliberations of the conventions. He was in attendance at one of these meetings once when a general row was about to take place - a split in the convention seemed inevitable. Two factions were at war with each other. I'he committee on resolutions had come in to make its report and a storm of indignation came up from the audience. As each resolution was read, some one would arise and move to lay it on the table. Another resolution would come and a like motion would be made. Long and spirited debates ensued in each case. Eagle flights of oratory were indulged in by Judge Pierse, J. M. Dickson, W. C. Fleming, Dr. J. C Cullen, Dr. T. N. Jones, and in fact, all of the local politicians.

The lion. David S. (iooding was present, ready to address the convention as soon as an opportunity afl'orded. If there was a man on earth that George Fesler loved to hear speak, it was Judge Gooding. George was becoming tired of the '- monkey business" and wanted Gooding to have a chance to speak. Some one moved to lay a certain resolution on the table. A big fight was on hand, almost coming to blows. George raised up from his seat and shouted :

" Messer Presitent !" The confusion was so loud that the president didn't hear him. " Messer Presitent, Messer Presitent ." Finally he shouted at the top of his voice, " Messer Presitent ," this time getting the chairman's attention and was recognized. " Messer Presitent, in order to hurry up the proceedings of this convention, so that Dave Gooding can make a speech, 1 moves that ve lay all of the resolutions on the table and wote them all srue at once."

This brought down the house and placed the tighting elements in a good humor. Order was restored and the business soon dispatched. Judge Gooding made his speech and all went home happj-.

Many funny things take place during a lifetime in the ])ractice of law. .V lawyer gets on the inside of many men's evil deeds, and knows the secret history of many men whom it would utterly destro}' if revealed. But no good lawyer - one who lives up to the rules of tlie practice, and who has a high regard for his position as a professional man, ever gives up the secrets confided in him. Information of a private character imparted to an attorney at law, is much safer than if given to your wife. The discreet lawyer never tells his wife. It is generally understood that in criminal cases the defendant makes a " clean breast " of it. gives his attornej- everv detail, so that he actuallv knows whether his client is guilty or not guilty.

In many cases lawyers stand before the jury with tears streaming down their faces, trying to convince the juiy of the innocence of their client, wlien, in fact, they know he is as guilty as sin. Once in a while you will find a fellow who is guilty, who persists to his attorney, as well as the outside world, that he is innocent. lie is often so serious about it that his attorney thinks he is an innocent, much-abused and persecuted man.

An instance of this kind once occurred in the ^Madison Circuit Court. A man in the southern part of the county was indicted for stealing some clothing.

He employed the Hon. J. ^V. Sansberry to defend him. Mr. Sansberry was then in his prime and stood at the head of tiie Madison county bar. He was always a sincere man. If he took a^notion that his client was actually not guilty, it was almost a personal matter with him in the trial of the case. Ever)' efl'ort was made, and nothing left undone to accomplish his ac<]uittal.

In this case the man strenuously declared his innocence. His attorney thought he was innocent, as well as many others wiiu were acquainted with the circumstances. When the Sheriff went to serve process on the defendant, he wanted to put his- horse up and feed him. but the man denied liim the privilege, and would' not consent, under any circumstances, to allow his horse put in his stable. This made the Sheriff angry. When he brought the prisoner to .\nderson he related the circumstance to Mr. Sansberry, who thought it was strange, to say the least, and also thought his client had hurt his case by taking such a course with the oHicer.

The fellow made a plausible excuse, fi.xing it up on his part. The time came around for his trial. An heroic detense was made for him. The jury took his case under adyisem.ent, in due time returning a verdict of not guilty. He was once more a free man, with the stain of theft washed away.

He again stood before the worlil as an lioiiest, uprlyht. (Jotlfearing- man. His friends congratulated liim upon his acquittal. The jury was complimented for its good sense and sound judgment. After all was over, Mr. Sansberrv. in conversation witli the client, asked him why he denied the Sheriff the courtesy of putting his horse in the stable.

"Well," said the man, ''You see. I had the stolen clothes hiilden in the manger, and I was afraid he would lintl them." This knocked the attorney out. lie felt as if there was no cop.lidence to he placed in mankind. Many a guiltv man has escaped punishment by putting on a bolil face anil sticking to the plea of innocence.

In the long time ago it seems that the people ol' Madison county who dwelled in their log cabins and li\ed on corn dodger,"' with all their ways of simplicity, were about as greedy for small crumbs thrown out of the county " crib " as the present generation. While their coin|iensation was veiy sm.ill as compared with what persons are paid at the ])resent time, there were about as many patriots ready and willing to serve as there are now in piojiortion to the population. There always was and always will be, around every county seat, about the same number of fellows who love to serve in the capacity of jurors and supernumeraries around the courts. There is a fascination about the proceedings of a court that takes hold of some fellows and never loosens its grip on them. The comforts of sitting in a jury box in a warm court house on a cold wintry day, as the wind whistles through the cracks and crevices around the temple of justice, listening to the testimony and weighing the evidence in a long and hotly contested case of Isastardy, rape or assault and battery, is something that has always been a source of great gratification to many people. It is noticeable, too, that there is, and always has been, a certain crowd in all stages of the court proceeilings that are the favored ones.

Among the " old-timers "" who had their share of the plum> picked out of the county orchard there were Saul Shaul. William Curtis, Daniel Harpold, Willis (i. Atherton, Jesse Shelton, Collins Tharp, Jesse Wise and manv others who held sway away back in the thirties. From the year ISijO to 1S4(>, their names appear on nearly every page of the old records in the capacity of Justice of the Peace, road supervisor, over- seer of tlie poor, bailiff, or in sbnic other capacity connected with running the" machine '' i]i county matters. Many other names also appear of men who. in later years, became popular leaders in the fields of politics and business. At the March session. IS;];"), the allowance records show the following entry ;

-' Ordered that the petit jur}- be allowed seventv-five cents each."" Among whom were Andrew Shanklin, John Moss, Jesse Wise and .Saul .'-ihaul. Andrew Jackson was allowed four dollars and a half for services as sheriff; Thomas K. Williams fifty cents for summoning witnesses before the Grand jury, and Charles D. Henderson and Alfred Kilgore were each allowed ten dollars for counsel appointed by the court to defend George McXew for larceny. Adam Winsell and Charles Mitchell were each allowed ten dollars as judges for holding said term of court.

Among the names in the above list who afterward became men of atTairs, was Andrew Jackson, elected clerk of the Madison Circuit Court as long as he cared to have it : was State senator and a representative in the legislature, and a politician with a State reputation. He became oneof Madison county's political giants.

Alfred Kilgore was one of Indiana's foremost lawyers, a brother of the late Judge David Kilgore, who was once Judge of tiiis circuit and a member of congress from this district.

It has been suggested that a suitable monument ought to be erected to Chas. D. Henderson who now lies in an unmarked grave in Madison count}-, almost forgottem He was an intelligent, upright man in his time, and is worthy of some recognition by the present generation for his labors in the days gone by for the benefit of the people of this county.

.\mong the many others wiio also had their names enrolled on the pages of Madison county history at that early day, are Henry Alderman and Brazelton Xoland who was once Treasurer of the county years ago ; and Palmer Patrick, of Fallcreek township, who helped to lay out and make nearly every road in Madison count}-, as the records show ; and Smitli Chambers, Robert Farnesworth and Ancil Richmond, who many years ago was Clerk of Madison Count)' ; and John Renshaw. who served as county Commissioner and assessor of revenue, for Anderson, Jackson and Pipecreek townships in J835; and Chamberlain Houston, as assessor of Adams, Union and Richland townships in tlie same year ; and Robert N. Williams as Clerk of the county during several years, about this period.

These men are now gone. They have left their footprints on the sands of time. Their records have been made up and submitted to the Supreme Judge of all. We have no right to now pass judgment on their acts, whether right or wrong. It is safe to say they were, in the main, right; if they erred, they did it honestly.

Sm.M.L Ok Its Age

Pat Skehan, the groceryman, whose jolly nature and robust form have been the pride of Anderson for almost half a century, has filled a place in Madison county, as well as a warm place in the hearts of its people. Every one knows him throughout the county. He has kept a grocery in Anderson so long that the oldest inhabitant cannot remember when he did not keep one. As well as family groceries, he has always kept a choice lot of liquors, and has enjoyed a good trade among the farmers. Among his many friends and admirers was " Uncle Tommj- "' Thornburg. When Mr. Thornburg lived up on Killbuck, he always dropped into Pat's to warm his toes and chat awhile, and thought his visit to Anderson was not complete unless he had seen Pat. One cold, winter morning, " Uncle Tommy "" came to town with his ears wrapped up in good shape. He naturally dropped into Skehan's grocery to warm. Pat very cordiallv invited him back, gave him a chair near the stove and assisted him to take of\' his wraps, .\fter they had chatted for f|uite awhile. Fat excused himself for a moment, and soon returned with one of those small " thimble glasses '" filled with an '- eye-opener ' " Here, ' Uncle Tommy,' is some choice old rye, right from the blue-grass regions of Kentucky. It is hand-made, ayd I know of my own knowledge, that it is eight years old. Try it ; 1 am certain that it will be good for you this cold morning." " Uncle Tommy " took it and gave it a very close scrutinizing, turning it round and round in his hand, and finally quaffing it down at one swallow.

The ordc ot things has been tiirneil artnuid since the days of our fathers, in regard to the stock law. Now there is no slock allowed to rim at large, or graze upon the " common." No fence of anv ]5articidar size, shjipe or dimensions is needed. In the "away back"' tlays it was diflfereiit ; people allowed stock of all kinds to run out, and graze upon the public land. It was common in those days to have a bell cow anil a bell weather. The bell cow led the procession of cattle, while the bell weather led the sheep. Every cow and sheep knew to what herd it belonged and would follow its leader to the end ol the earth.

Sometimes people would not see their stock from early till late in the fall. When winter approached, they generally turned out to hunt their herds and bring them in for winter feeding. People of that day were retjuired to keep up their fences to a regulation fixed by law.

In oriler to properly enforce the law the County Commissioners of each county appointed fence viewers to view the fences in different townships, and report as to their condition. If you failed to have your fence up to the standard, and breachy cattle or horses got into your field, you could not collect damages ; while on the other hand, if your fences were up to the regulation prescribed, you could recover damages by suit, if stock inJLH'ed your crops. The office of fence viewer has long been a thing of the past, yet there are men still living who have held that important office. At the January session, 18:^9, the Board of Commissioners made the following appointments :

"It is ordered that James Noland and Evan Pugh, of Anderson township ; John McKinzie, of Greene to\vnship ; Charles Doty, of Fallcreek township; Moses Corvvin and Moses Shaul, of Adams township; Collins Tharp and Nehemiah Layton, of Jackson township, be and the}' are hereby appointed fence viewers of their respective townships for the year A. D. ISl'U."

It is said that the Board generally selected a tall and a fat nian in each township for this office. If the fence was so low that the tall man coulil walk a straddle of it, or the cracks so large tliat tlic I'at man coiiUl crawl tlirouij;h. then the fence was condemned. This oflice was generally thrown out to the workers in tiie out townships as a reward for jiarty services. It's a pity the office was aholisiied, as it would save cantlidates great expenditure of money, and have a tendency to keep party lines, as well as people's fences, in good condition. It is said thai L'ncle Jiiiiinv I lollingsworth. who is yet living, once held the office of fence viewer. It is safe to say that the fences in his township were up to the standard, for whatever he does, he does with all his might. 1 Ii" would let no guiltv man escape.

The lirst settlers of Madison and adjoining counties were not only confronted with innumerable hardships in clearing tlieir farms and securing necessaries for their suhsistence. but were compelled to endure much sickness during certain seasons, particularly spring and sunnner. Ague was the common ailment, .aid it was not unusual for an entire setl lement . ^ n' comirjunity, to he afflicted with it during the early spring. it was not dangerous, however, and very often yielded in a short time to the simple remedies ;idministered hv the pioneer mothers, their remedies consisting of teas maile of roots ;>.nd various kinds of bark from trees.

The most fatal, and therefore the most dreaded, disease tliat made its appearance at an early day was a deathly sickness known as " milk poison,' or " milk-sick," The means for treating it corresponded \\\\h the other needs of the new country, and consecpiently the mortality among the settlers was often alarming. An animal afHicteil with it would become very sick and begin to tremble. This trembling woidd continue until death relie\'ed its sufferings. All domestic animals were subject to the disease, particularly cattle, and died in great numbers every spring and summer wherever cert.ain conditions obtained until the country bticanu- better de\elo]ied, when it tinally disappeari'd.

Persons who consumed the milk or butter, or ate the meat of animals subject to the disease were almost certain victims, I'hev were seized with nausea and \omited continually, \Vhiskv was the principal remedv, and when that failed to bring relief, the patient usualiv succumbed. There were many theories advancetl as to what caused the diseasf. .Some thought that it was communicatetl to stock Ihrougli vegeti- tion, others that it was induced by drinking water impregnated with a mineral poison. A favorite theory attributed the cause to a poison distilled by a mineral and through a process of exaporation settled upon vegetation with the dew. It was claimed by this class that cattle or other stock that were kept penned up until after the dew disappeared of mornings, never became afflicted with the disease.

JNIanv physicians who had taken a regular course of medicine, insisted that there was no such disease as milk-sick, that the disease so-called was inflammation of the stomach. The old-time doctors, however, and people generally, stoutly maintained the contrary, and advanced both evidence and argument that could not be refuted. Since 186G but few cases of milk-sick have been heard of in this or in neighboring counties. With the ditching and cultivation of the lands supposed to be inilicted with tlie disease, or its germs, it gradually disappeared.

At the session of the legishiture of 1S72-7-!. -\. J. Richardson, of Union township, had a petition presented to that body, asking that he be properly rewarded for disclosing the cause of milk-sick. The petition was introduced bv Hon. J. O. Hardesty, then representative from the counties of Madison, Henry and Hancock, but was not granted. Mr. Richardson subsequently wrote a long article and published it in the Democratic Standard, in which he claimed that after much investigation and experimenting with certain kinds of vegetation he was satisfied that the disease was caused from the animals eating what is known as " white top " or snake root. It was not very long after the publication of the article that Mr. Richardson died. He was a gentleman of intelligence and at one time served the people of his township as Justice of the Peace.