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.

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

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."

Staffleback Shack

One chapter in my latest book, Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas, is about the notorious Staffleback family of Galena, Kansas. I've written more than once on this blog about the Stafflebacks previously; so, I'm not going to say a lot more about them. To summarize their main claim to infamy, suffice it to say that almost the entire family was implicated in the July 1897 murder of Frank Galbreath, a young man who had called late at night at the Staffleback home, which was considered a house of ill repute.
A few years ago, a large two-story house on north Main Street in Galena opened for tours as the so-called "murder bordello," because it was supposedly the old Staffleback home. Although even some of the people associated with the enterprise admitted that the two-story house on Main Street might not have been the actual home of the Stafflebacks, it still developed that reputation in the minds of many people.
For the record, the actual Staffleback house was no more than a one-story shack, and it was located on the western outskirts of Galena, not on Main Street. Attached is a sketch of the shack, which appeared in a St. Louis newspaper near the time of the Stafflebacks' trial for the Galbreath murder. The house was burned down by angry townspeople about a week after Ed and George Staffleback were convicted of murder but while they were still awaiting transportation to the state prison in Lansing.

Suicide or Murder?

Another chapter in my latest book, Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas, is about a fascinating case that happened at Moran (located on Highway 54 between Iola and Fort Scott) in 1907. On a late September evening of that year, Mrs. Rebecca Sapp heard her grown daughter, Caroline May Sapp, scream shortly after she had stepped outside, and when Mrs. Sapp went to investigate, she found May lying dead in the yard with her throat slashed. Most people were convinced a heinous murder had taken place. No weapon was found on the premises in the immediate wake of May's death, but a subsequent search late that night turned up a razor. May's father and others who'd helped with the initial search swore the razor was not there at first. However, some people suspected almost from the beginning that Miss Sapp might have taken her own life.
Although no prime suspect in the apparent crime was identified at first, the incident recalled to some people's minds a scandal involving Miss Sapp from ten years earlier. When May was just 16 or 17, her schoolmaster, Samuel Whitlock, who was married and ten years older than her, was accused of having an affair with her. He staunchly denied the rumor, and the scandal was hushed up, but now May's death brought it back to the minds of those who remembered the decade-old rumor. And although no one openly accused Whitlock of killing the young woman, at least a few began to whisper that he might know something about her death.
Indeed, Whitlock, who had given up teaching and was now a businessman in Moran, came forward a few days after May died with a fantastic tale. He said he knew May had killed herself because he was present when she committed the act. He said that, in a panic, he picked up the razor after May slashed her own throat and took it with him but later brought it back. He said that ever since the Sapp family had moved into town from the surrounding countryside about two years earlier, May had been infatuated with him and had been almost constantly pursuing him. He admitted that he had met her secretly numerous times, but he said he was only trying to talk her out of her insane infatuation and that he never had an emotional or physical relationship with her.

Despite his denials, he was arrested on suspicion and tried for first degree murder. The prosecution's theory of the crime was that Whitlock was a brute who tried to seduce Miss Sapp and killed her when she resisted his advances. The defense, on the other hand, insisted that Whitlock was telling the truth and that, when he told May that he and his family were leaving Moran to get away from her, she had killed herself, as she had previously threatened to do, rather than live without him. If the prosecution had not been so intent on protecting Miss Sapp's honor, Whitlock might well have been convicted on a lesser count, because, although many people believed that May had been infatuated with the defendant, as he said, few believed that he had never returned her affection in any way. However, because the state insisted on a first-degree murder charge and didn't allow for the possibility that May was killed during a lover's quarrel, the defendant was acquitted.
This, of course, is just an abbreviated version of the story. As I say, it's an interesting case, and you can read the whole story in my new book.

The Daltons' Reconnaisance Mission

Another chapter in my latest book, Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas, is about the Dalton gang's ill-fated attempt to rob two banks at once in Coffeyville on October 5, 1892. I've written about this incident previously on this blog; so I won't recount the details again. Suffice it to say that the double bank robbery attempt turned into a fiasco, and virtually the whole gang was wiped out, but not before they killed or mortally wounded four citizens.
One of the things that caught my interest as I was researching this incident this time around was a reference or two that I found in Coffeyville newspapers to visits that members of the Dalton gang paid to the town in the days leading up to the ill-fated robbery attempt. I have read in Robert Barr Smith's book about the Coffeyville raid, I believe, and perhaps elsewhere that one of the main reasons the Daltons' attempt to rob two banks at once turned out so badly for them is that they thought they knew the layout of the town because they had lived there a couple of years earlier but they had not been back recently to learn the changes that had been made. Specifically, a hitching rail near one of the banks had been taken up for road repairs, forcing the gang to tie their horses farther away from the bank than they had planned. This may well be true, but, if so, the Daltons' lack of intelligence wasn't because none of the gang had visited Coffeyville recently.
One night in late September, Bob Dalton called at the home of a Coffeyville druggist named Frank Benson, and the visitor had a six-shooter in his hand when Benson answered the door. Dalton asked Benson to go to his drugstore and get him some whiskey, but Benson told him the store was out of whiskey and referred him to some of the other druggists in town. Dalton politely apologized for disturbing Benson and retired without further ado. Or so the Coffeyville Weekly Journal reported. Benson said he knew for sure the intruder was Bob Dalton because he had been well acquainted with Bob when he'd lived at Coffeyville, as the Dalton boys had made Benson's drugstore one of their loafing places.
So, either the hitching rail had been only very recently taken up prior to the botched robbery attempt, or else Bob and his brothers did a mighty poor job of reconnoitering the place.

Who Were the Benders?

One of the chapters in my latest book, Murder and Mayhem in Southeast Kansas, is about the Bloody Benders of Labette County. Most people are at least vaguely familiar with the story. The Benders, a German family, settled north of Cherryvale on the trail from Osage Mission (i.e. St. Paul) to Independence in the early 1870s and started running a roadside grocery. People started disappearing in the neighborhood of the Bender inn during late 1872 and early 1873. Suspicion gradually settled on the Benders, but by the time some men went out to the Bender place to investigate and uncovered 8 or 10 bodies in a backyard graveyard, the family was long gone.
Actually, I've written about the Benders in one of my previous books, and I've mentioned them a couple of times on this blog. But I tried to approach the subject with a fresh perspective, and I did come up with some new information about the Benders, as far as their ages, where they came from before they came to Kansas, etc. At least this information was new to me, and I don't think I've ever seen much, if anything, about it elsewhere. The biggest mystery surrounding the Benders is what happened to them after they fled the scene of their heinous murders, but the exact makeup of the family and their origins have always been somewhat a mystery as well. I try to shed some light on this topic in my new book, but you'll have to read the book to find out exactly what I uncovered. I also offer my insight into what I think happened to the family after they fled, but, like everybody else's speculation on this topic, that's all it is--speculation.