Nodaway County, Missouri - Chapter 28: Crimes - Trials, 1882 (part 2 of 2)
From The History of Nodaway County, Missouri, Containing a History of the County, Its Cities, Towns, Etc., Biographical Sketches of Its Citizens, published 1882. 3,927 words, reproduced complete and unedited. Source changes inside the text are labelled in place.
Contents
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The text
3,927 wordsMachine-read from scans of The History of Nodaway County, Missouri, Containing a History of the County, Its Cities, Towns, Etc., Biographical Sketches of Its Citizens, published 1882. Nothing has been corrected: fixing what looks like a misspelled name is how an invented one gets published. Source changes are marked where they occur.
On September 18, 1880, Dr. Talbott was shot, about nine o'clock at nighc at his home, by an assassin from without, through a window7. It was a calm, beautiful moonlight night, not such an ome as an assassin would naturally choose for dark and terrible deeds. Dr. Talbott, with some members of his family, had that day been attending the Nodaway County fair, and returned home in his buggy about six o'clock, his family going home by railway train. When he arrived at home, he found a call awaiting him to attend a sick child of a family residing some three miles south. He returned about nine o'clock, put up his horse, and went into the house. His wife and his son Albert were in the room, the rest of the family having retired. He handed Albert a copyright of a speech which he was having printed. Mrs. Talbott was lying on the bed with her head toward the foot. Albert was sitting by the table on the north side of the room, his arm on the window-sill. The doctor had taken off his coat, and was sitting on the bed when the fatal shot was fired. He was struck in the right breast, the ball passing clear through him, drawing blood on the calf of the leg of his wife, and striking in the plastering. The ball was a large conical one, and weighed an ounce and a half, being large enough to have been discharged out of a shot-gun. He had his hand up to his breast when the ball struck him, and portions of his thumb and middle finger were'shot away. The doctor reeled and fell against the bed, exclaiming, " My God, Belle, I am shot."
About ten o'clock, the same evening, Henry Wyatt, a work hand of Dr. Talbott's, arrived in Maryville in great haste, after a physician, spreading the news that Dr. Talbott had been shot, and that he could not live long. Dr. Talbott expressed the opinion to those going to see him that he had been shot by some one on account of his political opinions. Before his death he called the members of his family about him, and bade them all good-bye, retaining his consciousness up to Avithin five minutes of his demise, which occurred about two o'clock in the afternoon of the next day. After his death, a coroner's jury was summoned, when the following testimony of Mrs. Talbott and Albert was taken :
Testimony Of Mrs. Talbott
My name is Belle Talbott. I am wife of deceased ; am forty-seven years of age. On the night of the homicide, the deceased, myself, and my oldest son, Albert Perry Talbott, were in the room where the Doctor was shot. In the room immediately^above us on the second floor, Jennie and Angie Talbott, aged respectively eleven and thirteen years, and John Talbott and Cicero Talbott, aged ten and eight years, were all sleeping. In room over the kitchen on second floor, Charles Edward Talbott, aged sixteen years,- and William Wallace Talbott, aged fourteen years, and Henry Wyatt, a work hand, were sleeping. These were all that were about the house. Henry Wyatt, Cicero and John had been at home all day. The rest of the family had been at the fair. I got home about dark from the fair. All the family were at home when I got there. The Doctor had just got there. He had eaten his supper and came out to the gate and met me. He told me he was going to Whit Leighty's to see a sick child. I had come Home on the train. The Doctor had come home with the children in the buggy. I got off the train at Arkoe, and walked up part of the way, when my son William met me with the buggy. When I met the Doctor, as before stated, it was beginning to get a little dark. It was about half-past eight when he came home again. When he came home, he went into the north room below, and asked Bud (Albert) to take his mule to the pasture, which Bud at once did. From the front gate to the pasture is about 300 yards. Bud returned in about fifteen minutes, and came into the room where the Doctor and I were. , The Doctor had gone to the drawer and was reading the copyright for a book he had written, and was talking about it while Bud was gone. He had put it up before Bud came back ; but when Bud came in, the Doctor took it out again and gave it to Bud. Bud sat down by the northwest window to read it. The Doctor then walked to the south part of the room and sat down on the north side of the bed in front of me. I, at that time, was lying on the bed with my clothes on, my feet to the head of the bed. The Doctor was talking about this writing of his. He was in his shirt sleeves, and was facing the northwest window, the window where Bud was sitting. I saw him place his right hand up to his breast, and I think he was moving his shirt when I heard the loud report of a gun. I saw no flash. I had my face west with the side toward the window. The Doctor leaned and started forward, and cried : " My God, Belle, I'm shot. Some assassin has been sent here to shoot me." I jumped from the bed and caught hold of him. He was about half way from where he sat when he was shot and the northeast corner of the room when I caught him. He still had his hand up where he was wounded and was in a bent condition. Bud at that time ran around in front of the Doctor, and ran to get the shot gun which was in the southeast corner of the house. The Doctor had not, up to that time, spoken to Bud ; but as Bud ran for the gun the Doctor said, " take my revolver, too." After this, as I swung the Doctor around to get him onto the bed, he said: " Get me on the bed as quick as you can." Bud assisted me with the Doctor back to the bed, and then took the shot gun and went out. Bud went south into the hall. I heard two shots out of doors south of the house after Bud went out. Bud was out but a short time until he came in. I saw no one out of doors at an)- time. It was per- fectly light, or good moonlight, the night of the homicide. One could see all objects around them when out that night. No one of the family, but Bud, saw any one. I don't know that I can think of any one at outs with the Doctor. Don't know of his having any difficulty with any one lately. Had not heard him speak of any difficulty of any kind. On the night of the homicide as soon as Bud came in and set down the gun, I sent him after the neighbors, and sent Wyatt after the Doctor. There are two shot guns and four revolvers about the house that belong to the family. These are all the firearms that I know of.
Testimony Of Albert Talbott
My age is twenty-one years. I was at home the night of the homicide. Had been at the fair that day, and got home about half past eight o'clock. All of the family were at home when I got there, except the Doctor (my father.) I learned he was down to see Leighty's child. I remained at home after I got there. The Doctor came home about fifteen minutes before nine. The boys were all asleep up stairs. I and ma were in the north room below. The Doctor came into the room, walked across it, and pulled off his coat, and hung it up on the east side of the room. He did not speak to me about putting up his mule, but I staid up for that purpose. I went out, put away the mule, and came back carrying a saddle, at which time pa was standing on the walk just in front of the house. He walked back into the hall, and, I think, went into the parlor, for he was standing in the parlor door as I came in at the west door with the saddle. There was no light in the parlor at that time. I put the saddle down at the east end of the hall, and then went into the north room, and sat down between the table and northwest window. The Doctor soon came into the room after I had been there. Ma was lying on the bed in the north room when I went into it, after laying down the saddle. I don't know what the Doctor was doing in the parlor door. After he came into the north room, he walked up to the drawer and took out a daybook and gave me an envelope, and said that it contained a copyright for a book he had written. He then went back to the bed, and sat down and was talking to ma. I was reading the letter. After I had read it, the Doctor got up and pulled off his coat, vest and hat, and hung them upon the bureau at the west end of the room. He then sat down on the side of the bed and pulled off his shoes. I was at that moment putting the copyright in the envelope when I heard a gun crack. The gun was shot off at the right side of me. My right elbow was resting on the window. I did not see the flash, but I saw and smelt the smoke. It came into the room. I heard the glass fly. The Doctor raised up and started toward me, saying : " I'm shot." He took hold of my shoulder. I took hold of him, and he wheeled over towards the southeast corner of the room, to where the guns were, and caught hold of a gun, which fell down as he pulled at it. I saw he was going to fall, and threw, out my knee and caught him. While in this position, I reached and caught the gun. I raised pa up and let loose of him. The last I saw of him just then, he was staggering towards the bed. I think ma had hold of him. I went to open the south door, but failed the first time. Made another grab and opened it, and went out into the hall. I heard some one jump onto the walk in front of the house. I ran out at the west door and looked south, and saw a man running south through the yard. I ran southwest some eighteen or twenty feet, and fired at the man who was running off. I did not see any gun, if the man had one. I only fired one shot. I am sure of that. There was but one load in the gun, a load of goose shot. I was standing southwest of the house and shot directly south of me. I made examination next day for the tracks of the man, but found none. I think the man was of medium size, wore dark clothes and had on a black hat. Until he got out of sight he was running at full speed in a southeast direction. The orchard is sodded with timothy meadow. The land south of the orchard fence is sown in rye, and was broken up about three or four weeks ago. The land east of the orchard is wheat stubble. A few minutes after the shooting George Wyatt and I went down through the orchard to see if I had hit him, but could find no trace. That was all the search that night. Some five or ten minutes after the shooting I went to Arkoe, which was in the same direction the man had ran. I waked up Mr. Turner and told him what had happened. I knew at that time he was shot through and through, for ma had shown me where the ball had grazed her leg. I also went to Mr. Wilson and told him about it. I did not tell them about the man's running through the orchard. I simply told him pa was shot. I never thought of arousing the people to search for the man. I did not think it was necessary. I thought the man I shot at was the man who shot father. I never thought at any time during the night about having search instituted for the man.
From the very first, however, suspicion rested on the family. The ball which had passed through the murdered man plainly showed it was of rough manufacture, and that the rifles on it had been marked with a knife. The actions of the family were also very strange. There had been no effort made to arouse the neighbors or to pursue the assassin. Even while the doctor lay dying the family seemed almost unconcerned. Several other circumstances about the premises indicated that some member of the family had perpetrated the deed. The public were thoroughly aroused. The sheriff of the county, Henry Toel, and the prose-
In the meantime, strange rumors began to reach the public ear from the Talbott mansion. The family claimed that the house had been attacked by armed men, an entrance had been forced through the door, a battle had been fought, revolvers and shotguns had been emptied at short range ; but a bullet-hole through Albert's coat, and divers bullet-holes in the ceiling and walls, all passing outward, were the only results that appeared. After this strange affair, shooting was almost of nightly occurrence around the house. The family claimed that some one was thirsting for their blood, and reported so to the sheriff, but when protection was offered it was refused.
At this juncture a man named Jonas V. Brighton, who claimed to be a United States detective, from Kansas, appeared on the scene, and the Talbott boys, whose entire confidence he secured, soon revealed to him the fact that they had killed their father. In the meantime the sheriff, who had obtained evidence enough independent of Brighton to warrant an arrest, with the assistance of William Toel, Hosea Torrence and Nicholas Jones, arrested Mrs. Talbott, the two boys and the hired man, Henry Wyatt. The parties offered no resistance, although from Albert there were taken two revolvers and a bowie knife, and a revolver from Charles. The prisoners were brought to Maryville ; and a preliminary examination held October 27-8, 1880, resulted in Albert P. and Charles E. Talbott and Henry Wyatt being bound over to answer a charge of murder in the first degree, while Mrs. Talbott was held in a bond of $1,000 as being accessory.
The grand jury, at the November term of the Nodaway County Court, found a true indictment against Charles E. and Albert P. Talbott and Henry Wyatt, but failed to indict Mrs. Belle. Talbctt, and she was thereby discharged.
The trial of this case occupied about ten days, and excited more public interest than any other trial that ever took place in Northwest Missouri, or perhaps in the state, the leading papers of the state and of Chicago, Cincinnati and New York publishing the proceedings almost in full. The defense was ably conducted by Lafayette Dawson, Thomas J. Johnston and M. G. Moran, who did all that could be done for the prisoners. The prosecuting attorney, W. W. Ramsay, was assisted throughout by his partner, John Edwards, and by Scribner R. Beech.
At the beginning of the trial the defense asked that the cause be tried before another judge. The request was granted, and Hon. John C. Howell, Judge of the Twenty-eighth Judicial Circuit, was selected. Judge Howell conducted the trial throughout in the most impartial manner; was sustained in all his rulings, and received from all parties the highest encomiums.
On January 29, 1881, when W. W. Ramsay closed his argument for the state, the Judge gave his charge to the jury who withdrew from the court room at four o'clock for consultation. In less than two hours court was called, and the jury, who had agreed, gave the following verdict :
"In the necessary preliminary steps, and in the trial of the cause we have now spent almost two weeks. On last evening about seven o'clock the case reached a crisis full of solemn and impressive interest. The jury returned a verdict of murder in the first degree against the defendants, and it is now my duty to pronounce th^ judgment of the law in pursuance thereof.
Upon such occasions it is perhaps customary to review briefly the history of the trial. This I deem unnecessary under the circumstances of this case. Many in this community attended this trial and know the history, and by means of the telegraph many abroad also know it. One thing, however, I feel that I must say in reference to the attorneys in the case. Both the state and these defendants have been well and ably represented, and if the issue has gone against them it was not from want of faithfulness or lack of eloquence, ability and skill in their behalf on the part of those who appeared in their behalf.
Besides reviewing the history of the case, it is also sometimes customary to strongly animadvert on the conduct of the defendants. That example I shall not follow except to say that if the defendants are guilty it is a most wicked, dastardly, ungrateful and atrocious crime - almost unparalleled in the annals of crime. But in my judgment this is no time for speech, but rather for solemn thought and melancholy reflection. No doubt the defendants are sufficiently impressed with the gravity of the situation. If they are guilty - and they know whether they are or not - I can only recommend to them that they heartily repent of their crime, and have washed from their souls the foul stain produced by this awful violation of human and divine law."
He then asked each of the defendants respectively if they had any legal reason why the judgment of the court should not be pronounced against them, to which each responded : " I have ; I am not guilty of the charge." His Honor continued :
"The jury says you are guilty, and therefore it is considered and adjudged by the court that you be taken hence to the county jail of Nodaway County, and confined therein till the 25th day of March, 1881, and that on that day you be taken thence by the sheriff to the place of
No pen can write, no tongue can tell, the awful scene as these words were uttered. The Judge broke down, covered his face with his hands, and quivered with emotion ; strong men wept, women shrieked. The vast multitude present were shaken as if by a tempest. The agony of the mother and relatives of the condemned was terrible. Mrs. Talbott clung to her boys as if she would not have them torn from her. Albert's calmness forsook him. His mother, his affianced, both must be bidden farewell, ah ! it was terrible. He wept like an infant. Charles was moved, but possessed to a great extent his wonderful composure. His fortitude was wonderful. Nothing like it, in one so young, was ever before witnessed. At last way was made through the packed mass of humanity, and the prisoners conveyed to the jail, followed by hundreds of curious spectators.
There was a motion for a new trial, on a bill of exceptions, and the case went to the Supreme Court, where, on April 20, 1881, it was fully argued by W. W. Ramsay, for the state, and Thomas J. Johnston and Lafayette Dawson, for the defense. The decision of the lower court was affirmed, all the judges concurring.
The Talbott boys were in jail at Savannah when the decision of the Supreme Court was communicated to them, but they were soon removed to St. Joseph, and placed in the Buchanan County jail for safe keeping. They had been there only a few weeks when a scheme was discovered to liberate the boys, and they were removed to Savannah, where they remained until the middle of May, when they were taken to Maryville and placed under a strong guard both day and night. When they were removed to Maryville, sheriff Lincoln, of Andrew County, found two ingeniously made keys concealed in their cell. The keys were con structed of hard wood, and would readily open their cell doors.
During the whole time after the arrest, the boys showed remarkable coolness and fortitude, cqnsidering their youth, Albert being only twentytwo and Charles only seventeen years of age.
Great efforts were made to secure executive clemency, but the governor could only be induced to grant a respite ef the sentence from the 24th day of June to the 22d day of July, 1881, when the Talbott boys suffered the extreme penalty of the law at Maryville, amidst a vast concourse of people.
As we' review this trial which has created such a public interest, it may not be improper to note the distinctive features as they appeared in a historical light.
Second. The crime, a parricide, is one of the deepest dyed known to the annals of history. The doctor was also killed in his own home, at an early hour of a bright moonlight night, in a thickly settled portion of country, while surrounded by members of his own family.
Third. The defendants were convicted upon admissions and statements by them made, perhaps inadvertently, at different times to different parties, and a concatenation of criminating circumstances, all of which was verified and strengthened by the testimony of an accomplice in the crime.
Fourth. Henry Wyatt, while jointly indicted with the defendants for the murder of the doctor, but had been granted a severance in the trial, was introduced by the state and gave the principal testimony, detailing all the plots and plans preceding the murder.
Fifth. An uncle of the boys by marriage, though at the time of the homicide residing in Kansas, lent his aid to the state in ferreting out the case.
Sixth. There has never been a case in Missouri where so much influence was brought to bear upon the governor to exercise his prerogatives in commuting the sentence pronounced by the court. Leading citizens from various portions of the state, and a humanitarian society from a neighboring state, all brought influence to bear upon the governor to exercise executive clemency, without avail.
Seventh. Another feature of this case is the rapidity with which the law was enforced. Perhaps history contains few precedents of cases of this magnitude where a crime has been committed, the perpetrator of the deed arrested, arraigned, tried, the verdict confirmed, and the culprits executed within ten months of the commission of the deed.
In passing this celebrated case into history, an invisible pen seems to write on every door post, " In family government it is dangerous to leave out the moral element."
Provenance
Text from The History of Nodaway County, Missouri, Containing a History of the County, Its Cities, Towns, Etc., Biographical Sketches of Its Citizens, published 1882, in the public domain in the United States and digitised by the Internet Archive.