The first legal hanging in Greene County, Missouri, took place on August 25, 1854, when Willis Washam was hanged from a gallows erected just north of Jordan Creek near present-day Benton Avenue. This was near the same location where two black men, Mart Danforth in 1859 and Bud Isbell in 1871, were later lynched.
Washam's trial was held during the July 1854 term of Greene County Circuit Court on a change of venue from Taney County. Washam had been charged with killing his stepson a year or so earlier. Details of the case, are sketchy, since the only extant accounts of the case (at least the only ones I've been able to find) were written years after the fact. Greene County Circuit Court records do contain a few details about the legal proceedings against Washam but few details of the crime itself.
According to the 1883 History of Greene County, Washam, who lived on Bee Creek, near present-day Branson, went down to the creek to fish one day with the stepson, who was about 14. After a while, they separated, and Washam returned to the house alone. The boy did not return, and he was found a few days later in the creek with a stone tied around his neck and signs of violence on his body. His wife accused Washam of having killed her son, and he was arrested and taken to Forsyth.
Washam managed to escape and struck out for Arkansas on his "famous horse, which he called 'Tom Benton'" with his and his wife's 8-year-old son. Washam worked for a while in Arkansas but returned after a few months when the young boy started pining for his mother. The wife appeared to welcome Washam back home and told him the charges against him had been dropped, but after he fell asleep, she sneaked off to Forsyth and turned him in. Washam awakened and started off again on Tom Benton, suspecting that his wife had betrayed him, when he was overtaken and re-arrested. The Taney County sheriff later claimed Washam had offered to give Tom Benton to him if the lawman would let the wanted man escape. Washam, on the other hand, claimed the sheriff had offered on his own to "look the other way" if Washam would turn over his horse to him, without Washam bringing up the subject. At any rate, Washam was brought back to Forsyth, where he took a change of venue and was transferred to the Greene County jail in Springfield.
According to the county history, Washam's attorney, Littleberry Hendricks, made a "hard fight" for his client but to no avail. After Washam was convicted, Hendricks moved for new trial. After the motion was turned down, he moved for an arrest of judgment, but that motion, too, was denied. He planned, at first, to appeal to the Missouri Supreme Court but instead decided to try to get the judgment set aside at an upcoming adjourned term of the Greene County Circuit Court. At the hearing, two days before Washam's scheduled execution, the judge refused to take any action in the case, and the execution went off as scheduled on August 25.
An immense crowd gathered at the gallows to witness the event, people pouring into Springfield from as far away as Warsaw. Washam made a short speech before he was hanged in which he declared his innocence and said he could have gotten off if he'd been able to hire big-time lawyers.The county history claimed that during his speech, he said, "My old woman was sworn my life away, but I am ready to die."
Samuel Fulbright had assumed the duties of sheriff just a few days prior to the execution, and he was called upon to act as executioner. Several years later, Fulbright killed himself by poison, and a story circulated that a nagging guilt over the prospect that he had hanged an innocent man contributed to his suicide. The county history, however, discounted the story as silly. A story also arose when Mrs. Washam died several years later that she confessed on her deathbed that she herself had killed her son and cast the blame on her husband. The author of the county history said he had tried and failed to corroborate this story and that he was convinced that it, too, was a fabrication. He said he thought some unscrupulous attorney had made it up to use as an example of someone being wrongly executed in an attempt to get his own client acquitted.
The Washam case was recounted in the Springfield Leader in late April 1886 in the aftermath of the lynching George Graham near present-day Grant Beach Park. (By the way, the Graham case, which is a very fascinating case, is the subject of my next book, Bigamy and Bloodshed: The Scandal of Emma Molloy and the Murder of Sarah Graham, to be released in October by Kent State University Press as part of its true crime series.) The 1886 newspaper account of the Washam case was very similar to what the county history had said three years earlier.
In early May, 1886, a week after the Leader account of the Washam case had been printed, a person styling himself "An Old Citizen" wrote in to say that neither the county history nor the recent Leader story was accurate in the details of the Washam case. The writer said he had been present at both the trial and the hanging and knew firsthand what he was talking about.
The letter writer said that the murdered lad's body was not found in the creek several days after it disappeared with a stone tied around his neck. Instead, the principal witness in the case, a neighbor named Wilson, testified that, on the day the body was found, he was attracted by the screaming of the dead boy's younger brother and that, when he came running, he found Mr. and Mrs. Washam, with their clothes saturated with water, standing on the bank arguing, each accusing the other of having hindered the rescue effort. The dead lad did not have a stone around his neck, and the only marks of violence were three bruises on one side of his neck and one bruise on the other side, as might have been caused by the grip of a person's fingers and thumb. The neighbor said that, after the boy was dragged from the water, an effort to resuscitate the victim was made but to no avail.
Washam's testimony was that he and his stepson went fishing and that, after he separated from the boy, he was attracted by the shouts of his younger son, who had tagged along also. Washam rushed back to where he'd left the boys and jumped into the water to try to save the older lad. While he was still wrestling to get the boy ashore, the mother showed up and jumped in also, but Washam claimed he got tangled up in her clothes, which caused him to have to let go of the boy in order to save himself. Washam was said to have previously made threats against his stepson, which, along with the bruises on the neck, gave rise to suspicion against him.
The "old citizen" also said that it was not true that Littleberry Hendricks had made a valiant effort to save his client. Hendricks did not even become Washam's counsel until after the defendant had been convicted and his original court-appointed lawyers had abandoned him. Hendricks had filed Washam's appeals only because he felt anyone was entitled to file such appeals, not because he was valiantly fighting for his client. Washam's hanging was scheduled for a Friday, and Hendricks appeared before the judge on Thursday in a last-minute attempt to get his appeal heard. The judge said he would hear the case early Friday morning but then, after Hendricks left, the judge ordered the sheriff to adjourn the court until Saturday, thus cutting off any chance for the appeal to actually be heard.
In addition, the "old citizen" said Washam did not blame his wife during his speech on the gallows but simply said that he was innocent and would have been acquitted if he'd been able to afford good attorneys.
Although the facts of this case are, as I say, very sketchy, the story of the "old citizen" seems to me to have more of a ring of truth to it than the county history account. And the idea that Washam was, indeed, innocent seems to have gained considerable credence in the late 1800s and early 1900s, although this might have simply been a case of romanticizing past events.
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Saturday, May 18, 2019
Killing of Clara Castle and Trial of Jessie Morrison
A few weeks ago, I wrote about the mysterious death of May Sapp in Allen County, Kansas, in 1907. From the outset, whether she had been killed or had sliced her own throat with a razor was a subject of debate. A similar case happened in Butler County a few years earlier, and it was the subject of even more notoriety than May's scandalous case. Both stories are chronicled in my latest book, Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas.
In June of 1900, less than two weeks after Clara Wiley married Olin Castle, Jessie Morrison, with whom Castle had previously kept company, slashed the the newly wedded woman to death with a razor. That fact was never in doubt, but Jessie, who was promptly arrested for murder, maintained from the outset that she had acted in self-defense. She said she was walking past Clara's house in El Dorado on her way downtown when Clara called her to the door and invited her inside. Accusing Jessie of not leaving Olin alone even after the marriage, Clara attacked Jessie with a razor, and Jessie ended up wresting it away and killing Clara instead. Jessie said she told Clara that it was Olin who wouldn't leave her alone, not the other way around, and that's what set Clara off.
The prosecution, on the other hand, said Jessie killed Clara out of pure jealousy and that she was the instigator of the fight. The state's attorneys claimed Jessie had brought the razor with her to the house, whereas Jessie claimed the razor belonged to Clara, and considerable testimony was offered on this point. In addition, Clara lived long enough to give a sworn statement saying that Jessie had come to her house and attacked her with the razor.
Jessie's first trial in December of 1900 ended in a hung jury. On retrial in June 1901, Jessie was convicted of second-degree manslaughter and sentenced to five years in prison. She should have been satisfied that she'd gotten off rather easily, but her lawyers appealed the verdict and the Kansas Supreme Court granted her a new trial. At her third trial in June 1902, Jessie was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. Her lawyers appealed again, but this time the high court rejected the appeal. Jessie was paroled in 1910, after serving about eight years of her twenty-five-year sentence. The governor pardoned her three years later, granting Jessie her unconditional freedom.
Part of the reason this case made headlines across the country was because all the principals in the case came from prominent families. Jessie Morrison, for instance, was the daughter of a county judge, and Clara's and Olin's folks were also well known and respected in Butler County.
By the way, I'll be a having a book signing for Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas next Saturday, May 25, at Watermark Books and Cafe in Wichita.
In June of 1900, less than two weeks after Clara Wiley married Olin Castle, Jessie Morrison, with whom Castle had previously kept company, slashed the the newly wedded woman to death with a razor. That fact was never in doubt, but Jessie, who was promptly arrested for murder, maintained from the outset that she had acted in self-defense. She said she was walking past Clara's house in El Dorado on her way downtown when Clara called her to the door and invited her inside. Accusing Jessie of not leaving Olin alone even after the marriage, Clara attacked Jessie with a razor, and Jessie ended up wresting it away and killing Clara instead. Jessie said she told Clara that it was Olin who wouldn't leave her alone, not the other way around, and that's what set Clara off.
The prosecution, on the other hand, said Jessie killed Clara out of pure jealousy and that she was the instigator of the fight. The state's attorneys claimed Jessie had brought the razor with her to the house, whereas Jessie claimed the razor belonged to Clara, and considerable testimony was offered on this point. In addition, Clara lived long enough to give a sworn statement saying that Jessie had come to her house and attacked her with the razor.
Jessie's first trial in December of 1900 ended in a hung jury. On retrial in June 1901, Jessie was convicted of second-degree manslaughter and sentenced to five years in prison. She should have been satisfied that she'd gotten off rather easily, but her lawyers appealed the verdict and the Kansas Supreme Court granted her a new trial. At her third trial in June 1902, Jessie was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to twenty-five years in prison. Her lawyers appealed again, but this time the high court rejected the appeal. Jessie was paroled in 1910, after serving about eight years of her twenty-five-year sentence. The governor pardoned her three years later, granting Jessie her unconditional freedom.
Part of the reason this case made headlines across the country was because all the principals in the case came from prominent families. Jessie Morrison, for instance, was the daughter of a county judge, and Clara's and Olin's folks were also well known and respected in Butler County.
By the way, I'll be a having a book signing for Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas next Saturday, May 25, at Watermark Books and Cafe in Wichita.
Saturday, May 11, 2019
Rockaway Beach Riot
In the summer of 1965, I was old enough to have taken part in the so-called riot that occurred at Rockaway Beach, Missouri, over the Fourth of July weekend, but I reckon I missed the fun.
Rockaway Beach, located about ten miles northeast of Branson, got its start as a family resort shortly after Powersite Dam was built near Forsyth in 1913, creating Lake Taneycomo. Rockaway Beach flourished for many years, but it began to wane after construction of Table Rock Dam and creation of Table Rock Lake upstream on the White River changed Lake Taneycomo from a warm water lake to a cold water lake. By the 1960s, Rockway Beach, with its arcades and other amusements, had devolved mainly into a summer hangout for young people.
In 1965, Rockaway Beach's reputation as gathering place for young people looking to have a good time was at its peak, and college students and other youth trooped into the small town by the hundreds throughout Friday, July 2 and Saturday, July 3. By Saturday night, an estimated 5,000 young people swarmed the town. The riot broke out just after midnight on Sunday morning, July 4, when Rockaway Beach marshal Jess Marler arrested a drunken young man who kept riding on the handlebars of a motorcycle after being ordered not to. Marler was placing the young offender in his police car near the town's Chamber of Commerce office across the street from Rocco's Gay Nineties tavern when a group of young people leaving the bar saw what was happening and tried to take the prisoner away from the marshal. They turned over the marshal's squad car, and the melee then grew "by leaps and bounds in a space of only a few minutes," according to a newspaper report the next day.
Someone promptly called the Taney County sheriff's department, and deputies, as well as Forsyth police officers, arrived within fifteen minutes. The incoming officers had no more than reached the scene when they were met by a "fusilage of rocks, bricks, cherry bombs and firecrackers." A deputy suffered burns on his right hand and left leg when he was hit by cherry bombs, and a rock flung through the back window of Sheriff Lyman Cardwell's car narrowly missed the lawman's head. As the riot escalated, the young people started hurling rocks at the windows of stores and shops and stepping up the firecracker and cherry bomb barrage.
At about 12:30 a.m. the handful of law officers discreetly retreated to the edge of town and summoned reinforcements. After additional officers from Christian County, Greene County, Stone County, and other neighboring jurisdictions arrived in the wee hours, the platoon of lawmen invaded the heart of Rockaway Beach to try to retake possession of the small town. They were met with "round after round of rocks, boards, cherry bombs and firecrackers hurled by the youths." When the officers stopped their cars, young people would pile on them and begin rocking the vehicles, trying to turn them over. After battling the rowdy youths for over three hours, the lawmen finally managed to disperse the crowd, and they began rounding up and arresting some of the offenders. In all, a total of 127 young people were arrested and taken to the Taney County jail in Forsyth. Some were placed in cells at the jail while others were guarded in nearby buildings or on the courthouse grounds. The detainees appeared before a Taney County magistrate on Sunday. Most, charged only with offenses like possession of intoxicating liquors, paid fines and were set free, while eleven were sentenced to terms in the county jail on more serious charges such as resisting arrest and property destruction. In total, almost $5,000 in fines and costs were levied against the youthful offenders. Most of the young people arrested came from the St. Louis area, while some came from other Midwestern cities like Kansas City and Wichita. Very few were local kids.
Rockaway Beach businesses suffered a total of about $8,000 in damages. In the aftermath of the riot, some of the business owners lamented the decline of Rockaway as a family resort. "This used to be a fine resort center patronized by families," said one man, "but the college and high school kids have ruined it."
A few business owners, however, especially those who catered to the young people, defended the youths. One owner of a restaurant and nightclub, for instance, complained that he'd lost two to three thousand dollars in business over the weekend because he'd been forced to close down by law officers. He also complained about the tactics used by the police in arresting the youths, claiming that officers hit a number of young people over the head with sticks and invaded motel rooms without warning to pull people out and arrest them. The nightclub owner added that 98 percent of the young people were good, all-American kids.
Most of the officers, of course, disagreed. One lawmen reported that he and his comrades had found eight boys and three girls in one cabin and that all of them were nude. Another group of officers found 22 boys and girls in a two-room cabin, and all of them were also nude. One veteran lawmen partially blamed the hotel and motel owners, who, he said, rented a room to two or three young people and then let 10 to 20 stay in it. The only time the motel owners called the police, the officer complained, was when the youths started "tearing the place up."
In addition to the deputy who suffered the cherry bomb burns, two or three young people also suffered injuries in the riot. One young man who received shotgun pellet wounds said that he didn't know where the pellets came from but that he didn't see any officers with shotguns.
Law enforcement maintained a strong presence in Rockaway Beach throughout the rest of the weekend and into Monday. Fifty-four more young people were arrested during the day on Sunday and into the early morning of Monday. Two or three times renewed outbreaks of rioting were feared, but the strong police presence kept a lid on things. Taney County prosecutor Peter Rea, who personally arrested one of the youthful offenders, defiantly proclaimed, "These kids are not going to make another Fort Lauderdale out of Rockaway Beach." (This was a reference to rioting that had occurred the previous year at Fort Lauderdale, Florida, a noted destination for fun-seeking college students during spring break and other vacation times.)
Sources: Joplin News-Herald and Joplin Globe
Rockaway Beach, located about ten miles northeast of Branson, got its start as a family resort shortly after Powersite Dam was built near Forsyth in 1913, creating Lake Taneycomo. Rockaway Beach flourished for many years, but it began to wane after construction of Table Rock Dam and creation of Table Rock Lake upstream on the White River changed Lake Taneycomo from a warm water lake to a cold water lake. By the 1960s, Rockway Beach, with its arcades and other amusements, had devolved mainly into a summer hangout for young people.
In 1965, Rockaway Beach's reputation as gathering place for young people looking to have a good time was at its peak, and college students and other youth trooped into the small town by the hundreds throughout Friday, July 2 and Saturday, July 3. By Saturday night, an estimated 5,000 young people swarmed the town. The riot broke out just after midnight on Sunday morning, July 4, when Rockaway Beach marshal Jess Marler arrested a drunken young man who kept riding on the handlebars of a motorcycle after being ordered not to. Marler was placing the young offender in his police car near the town's Chamber of Commerce office across the street from Rocco's Gay Nineties tavern when a group of young people leaving the bar saw what was happening and tried to take the prisoner away from the marshal. They turned over the marshal's squad car, and the melee then grew "by leaps and bounds in a space of only a few minutes," according to a newspaper report the next day.
Someone promptly called the Taney County sheriff's department, and deputies, as well as Forsyth police officers, arrived within fifteen minutes. The incoming officers had no more than reached the scene when they were met by a "fusilage of rocks, bricks, cherry bombs and firecrackers." A deputy suffered burns on his right hand and left leg when he was hit by cherry bombs, and a rock flung through the back window of Sheriff Lyman Cardwell's car narrowly missed the lawman's head. As the riot escalated, the young people started hurling rocks at the windows of stores and shops and stepping up the firecracker and cherry bomb barrage.
At about 12:30 a.m. the handful of law officers discreetly retreated to the edge of town and summoned reinforcements. After additional officers from Christian County, Greene County, Stone County, and other neighboring jurisdictions arrived in the wee hours, the platoon of lawmen invaded the heart of Rockaway Beach to try to retake possession of the small town. They were met with "round after round of rocks, boards, cherry bombs and firecrackers hurled by the youths." When the officers stopped their cars, young people would pile on them and begin rocking the vehicles, trying to turn them over. After battling the rowdy youths for over three hours, the lawmen finally managed to disperse the crowd, and they began rounding up and arresting some of the offenders. In all, a total of 127 young people were arrested and taken to the Taney County jail in Forsyth. Some were placed in cells at the jail while others were guarded in nearby buildings or on the courthouse grounds. The detainees appeared before a Taney County magistrate on Sunday. Most, charged only with offenses like possession of intoxicating liquors, paid fines and were set free, while eleven were sentenced to terms in the county jail on more serious charges such as resisting arrest and property destruction. In total, almost $5,000 in fines and costs were levied against the youthful offenders. Most of the young people arrested came from the St. Louis area, while some came from other Midwestern cities like Kansas City and Wichita. Very few were local kids.
Rockaway Beach businesses suffered a total of about $8,000 in damages. In the aftermath of the riot, some of the business owners lamented the decline of Rockaway as a family resort. "This used to be a fine resort center patronized by families," said one man, "but the college and high school kids have ruined it."
A few business owners, however, especially those who catered to the young people, defended the youths. One owner of a restaurant and nightclub, for instance, complained that he'd lost two to three thousand dollars in business over the weekend because he'd been forced to close down by law officers. He also complained about the tactics used by the police in arresting the youths, claiming that officers hit a number of young people over the head with sticks and invaded motel rooms without warning to pull people out and arrest them. The nightclub owner added that 98 percent of the young people were good, all-American kids.
Most of the officers, of course, disagreed. One lawmen reported that he and his comrades had found eight boys and three girls in one cabin and that all of them were nude. Another group of officers found 22 boys and girls in a two-room cabin, and all of them were also nude. One veteran lawmen partially blamed the hotel and motel owners, who, he said, rented a room to two or three young people and then let 10 to 20 stay in it. The only time the motel owners called the police, the officer complained, was when the youths started "tearing the place up."
In addition to the deputy who suffered the cherry bomb burns, two or three young people also suffered injuries in the riot. One young man who received shotgun pellet wounds said that he didn't know where the pellets came from but that he didn't see any officers with shotguns.
Law enforcement maintained a strong presence in Rockaway Beach throughout the rest of the weekend and into Monday. Fifty-four more young people were arrested during the day on Sunday and into the early morning of Monday. Two or three times renewed outbreaks of rioting were feared, but the strong police presence kept a lid on things. Taney County prosecutor Peter Rea, who personally arrested one of the youthful offenders, defiantly proclaimed, "These kids are not going to make another Fort Lauderdale out of Rockaway Beach." (This was a reference to rioting that had occurred the previous year at Fort Lauderdale, Florida, a noted destination for fun-seeking college students during spring break and other vacation times.)
Sources: Joplin News-Herald and Joplin Globe
Sunday, May 5, 2019
Murder of Belle Douglas
What the Joplin Bulletin called "one of the most horrible and villainous crimes that has ever disgraced the history of Southwest Missouri" came to light on Monday, April 10, 1876, when one or more teamsters crossing Center Creek a few miles northwest of Joplin discovered the body of a young woman floating in the river downstream from the ford, where her clothes had snagged on a limb. The body was taken to the nearby residence of Charles Manlove, where it was identified as Miss Belle Douglas. Belle had been living with Manlove, and she had been missing for about four weeks. Although newspaper accounts at the time identified Belle as Manlove's sister-in-law, census records suggest that she might, in fact, have been his sister. If Belle was not his sister, then he must have had both a sister and a sister-in-law named Belle.
At any rate, an examination revealed that Belle had been struck twice with a heavy object, once on the side of the head and once on the back of the head. Either blow was deemed sufficient to have caused death. Belle was also found to be about seven months pregnant at the time of her death, and certain circumstantial evidence caused investigators to suspect that Manlove was both her seducer and her killer.
Manlove was arrested and taken to Joplin for a preliminary examination before Justice of the Peace J. C. Maddy. After several days of testimony, he was charged with murder and released on a $10,000 bond to await trial.
Before his earthly trial came up, however, Manlove was, according to the Joplin Democrat, called to answer at a "higher court" later the same year. While riding horseback on August 8 near the Stevens diggings about four miles west of Joplin, Manlove was struck and killed by a bolt of lightning that passed from the top of his head down through his body, breaking three ribs, and then separated and went down both legs. "Thus ends in tragedy one of the most mysterious occurrences that has happened in this county since the war," said the Democrat. "With Chas. Manlove dies his prosecution..., and perhaps the secret of her (Belle's) death will forever remain secret."
At any rate, an examination revealed that Belle had been struck twice with a heavy object, once on the side of the head and once on the back of the head. Either blow was deemed sufficient to have caused death. Belle was also found to be about seven months pregnant at the time of her death, and certain circumstantial evidence caused investigators to suspect that Manlove was both her seducer and her killer.
Manlove was arrested and taken to Joplin for a preliminary examination before Justice of the Peace J. C. Maddy. After several days of testimony, he was charged with murder and released on a $10,000 bond to await trial.
Before his earthly trial came up, however, Manlove was, according to the Joplin Democrat, called to answer at a "higher court" later the same year. While riding horseback on August 8 near the Stevens diggings about four miles west of Joplin, Manlove was struck and killed by a bolt of lightning that passed from the top of his head down through his body, breaking three ribs, and then separated and went down both legs. "Thus ends in tragedy one of the most mysterious occurrences that has happened in this county since the war," said the Democrat. "With Chas. Manlove dies his prosecution..., and perhaps the secret of her (Belle's) death will forever remain secret."
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