A few months ago, I wrote a brief entry about Eldorado Springs in Cedar County, Missouri, and I noted that it was one of many towns throughout the Ozarks that sprang up during the mineral water craze of the later 1800s and early 1900s. In fact, nearly all towns in the region that have the words "springs" on the end of their name were founded as mineral-water spas or resorts.
One of the earliest such resort towns in the Ozarks was Monegaw Springs, located about nine or ten miles west of Osceola in St. Clair County, Missouri. It was established before the Civil War and, like its neighbor to the east, was burned by Jim Lane and his Kansas jayhawkers during the war. It was rebuilt and began to flourish as a resort after the Civil War. It was during this time that it became a hideout for the infamous Younger gang. The Youngers often frequented one of the town's hotels and an adjacent tavern, and they used a secluded cave on the nearby Osage River as a hideout. A bluff above the river near the cave became known locally as Younger Lookout.
Monegaw Springs, like many of the other spring-water towns, declined dramatically after the mineral-water craze passed, and its fate as a near ghost town was sealed when the building of the Baldwin Lakes cut off easy access to the town. Today, the once-thriving little resort town is located in an out-of-the-way spot that few people visit.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Gadfly
I've mentioned in previous posts my fascination with small towns that no longer exist or that now exist under a different name. Another such place is the small community of Gadfly, located in Barry County about twelve miles northwest of Cassville or about five miles west of Purdy. Now called Corsicana, the town was founded prior to the Civil War, and it was mentioned several times in military reports filed during the war. The Union army had a detachment stationed there and operated a mill there during part of the war, and it was the site of at least one small skirmish.
In 1874, the town had several businesses and an estimated population of one hundred people. Two years later the name was changed, but the new town of Corsicana never flourished. Located off the beaten path, the village's population was never much more than the 100 people it boasted in 1874, and even that number declined over the years until Corsicana today is little more than a wide place in the road.
In 1874, the town had several businesses and an estimated population of one hundred people. Two years later the name was changed, but the new town of Corsicana never flourished. Located off the beaten path, the village's population was never much more than the 100 people it boasted in 1874, and even that number declined over the years until Corsicana today is little more than a wide place in the road.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Fantastic Caverns
A few years ago, I wrote an article about the history of Fantastic Caverns that was published in the Ozarks Mountaineer. Probably the thing that stands out most in my mind from the research I did for the article concerns the popular story about the twelve adventurous women from Springfield who comprised the first explorers of the cave. The reason I particularly remember this aspect of the story is because I learned from my research that it's not true. After John Knox discovered the cave on his land northwest of Springfield, he announced his discovery and opened it up for public exploration in early 1867. The first group to explore the cavern went out from Springfield on February 14 and contained no women. The group that included the twelve women from the Springfield Women's Athletic Club did not explore the cave until February 27, almost two weeks later. Contemporaneous newspaper reports in the Springfield Tri-Weekly Patriot make these facts clear, but the idea of twelve adventurous women composing the first exploratory party makes a good story. So, it has been handed down as part of the popular mythology of Fantastic Caverns and is still perpetuated today, I believe, in some of the tourist attraction's own brochures. Why quibble over two weeks? I suppose.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Sheriff Hardin Harvey Vicory
A few weeks ago, I mentioned a brief story on the Officer Down Memorial Page website about Sheriff Bertie Brixey of Webster County, Missouri. It sounded as if it would make an interesting historical article, but it didn't pan out, because some of the information on the website proved incorrect.
Another interesting story on the same website concerns Douglas County Sheriff Hardin Harvey Vicory, who was killed on March 8, 1879, by the former sheriff, whom Vicory was attempting to arrest for a murder the ex-lawman had committed a couple of years earlier while still serving as sheriff. This, too, seems like a very interesting historical article in the making. Unfortunately, there seems to be even less firsthand information available about this incident, such as court records and contemporaneous newspaper accounts, than there was about the Brixey killing. For instance, I found, in a Springfield newspaper, a reference to an account of the Vicory killing that had previously appeared in a Marshfield newspaper, but the Marshfield newspaper itself no longer exists. If I can come up with additional primary sources, though, writing this story might be an interesting future project.
Another interesting story on the same website concerns Douglas County Sheriff Hardin Harvey Vicory, who was killed on March 8, 1879, by the former sheriff, whom Vicory was attempting to arrest for a murder the ex-lawman had committed a couple of years earlier while still serving as sheriff. This, too, seems like a very interesting historical article in the making. Unfortunately, there seems to be even less firsthand information available about this incident, such as court records and contemporaneous newspaper accounts, than there was about the Brixey killing. For instance, I found, in a Springfield newspaper, a reference to an account of the Vicory killing that had previously appeared in a Marshfield newspaper, but the Marshfield newspaper itself no longer exists. If I can come up with additional primary sources, though, writing this story might be an interesting future project.
Friday, June 26, 2009
"The Matthews-Payton Feud"
I've been doing some research on the Meadows-Bilyeu feud in southern Christian County that erupted into violence in late November of 1898, and I was interested to learn that one of the principals in that feud, John S. "Bud" Meadows, was also involved in a previous feud in the same vicinity back in the Bald Knobber days of the 1800s.
In early 1885, Alex Payton and L. T. Matthews were involved in a replevin suit (the reclaiming of possessions through legal action), and the outcome favoring Payton angered Matthews. A feud developed between the two families, and Bud Meadows and his father, Alexander "Old Bob" Meadows, sided with the Paytons in the dispute.
Two weeks after the suit, someone threw a lit stick of dynamite on top of the Payton home, and it ripped through the roof of the house when it exploded. A small child was seriously injured (and later died according to at least one report), and several other members of the Payton family were injured.
Suspecting that the Matthews family was either directly or indirectly responsible for the explosion, the Paytons sought revenge. On April 12, 1885, as Matthews and his family were moving by wagon to Chadwick, they were ambushed by rifle from the side of the road. One shot wounded Matthews in the arm, and another struck his young son, Claudie, killing him instantly.
Matthews ran toward the bushes where the shots had come from and saw eighteen-year-old William Payton and fourteen-year-old James Payton running away. After the boys were charged with murder, Old Bob Meadows helped in their defense, and Matthews suspected that the Meadowses had played a part in the attack on his family.
Despite the legal aid provided by Old Bob, the younger Payton was convicted of murder and sentenced to hang. However, the sentence was commuted in March of 1887. (He was eventually pardoned altogether.)
The commutation must have re-opened an old wound for Matthews. Less than three months later, on June 6, 1887, Old Bob Meadows was shot dead from ambush as he walked along the road just south of the Christian-Taney county line, the same way Matthews's small child had been assassinated two years earlier. Matthews was indicted in Taney County for the murder but was acquitted after a lengthy trial.
In 1895 (four years before the Meadows-Bilyeu feud), Bud Meadows was finally indicted as an accessory to the murder of little Claudie Matthews, but he, too, was acquitted.
After the Meadows-Bilyeu feud erupted into violence and Bud Meadows was on trial for killing Steve Bilyeu, several defense witnesses tried to suggest that Bilyeu and his sons had reputations as quarrelsome and violent men. Given Bud's prior history, that may have been an example of the pot calling the kettle black.
By the way, I haven't yet been able to determine whether L. T. Matthews was related to John Matthews and his nephew Wiley Matthews, the Bald Knobbers who, along with Dave Walker and his son, were convicted of killing two members of the Edens family south of Chadwick in March of 1887 (about the same time James Payton's death sentence was being commuted). Does anyone know whether they were related?
In early 1885, Alex Payton and L. T. Matthews were involved in a replevin suit (the reclaiming of possessions through legal action), and the outcome favoring Payton angered Matthews. A feud developed between the two families, and Bud Meadows and his father, Alexander "Old Bob" Meadows, sided with the Paytons in the dispute.
Two weeks after the suit, someone threw a lit stick of dynamite on top of the Payton home, and it ripped through the roof of the house when it exploded. A small child was seriously injured (and later died according to at least one report), and several other members of the Payton family were injured.
Suspecting that the Matthews family was either directly or indirectly responsible for the explosion, the Paytons sought revenge. On April 12, 1885, as Matthews and his family were moving by wagon to Chadwick, they were ambushed by rifle from the side of the road. One shot wounded Matthews in the arm, and another struck his young son, Claudie, killing him instantly.
Matthews ran toward the bushes where the shots had come from and saw eighteen-year-old William Payton and fourteen-year-old James Payton running away. After the boys were charged with murder, Old Bob Meadows helped in their defense, and Matthews suspected that the Meadowses had played a part in the attack on his family.
Despite the legal aid provided by Old Bob, the younger Payton was convicted of murder and sentenced to hang. However, the sentence was commuted in March of 1887. (He was eventually pardoned altogether.)
The commutation must have re-opened an old wound for Matthews. Less than three months later, on June 6, 1887, Old Bob Meadows was shot dead from ambush as he walked along the road just south of the Christian-Taney county line, the same way Matthews's small child had been assassinated two years earlier. Matthews was indicted in Taney County for the murder but was acquitted after a lengthy trial.
In 1895 (four years before the Meadows-Bilyeu feud), Bud Meadows was finally indicted as an accessory to the murder of little Claudie Matthews, but he, too, was acquitted.
After the Meadows-Bilyeu feud erupted into violence and Bud Meadows was on trial for killing Steve Bilyeu, several defense witnesses tried to suggest that Bilyeu and his sons had reputations as quarrelsome and violent men. Given Bud's prior history, that may have been an example of the pot calling the kettle black.
By the way, I haven't yet been able to determine whether L. T. Matthews was related to John Matthews and his nephew Wiley Matthews, the Bald Knobbers who, along with Dave Walker and his son, were convicted of killing two members of the Edens family south of Chadwick in March of 1887 (about the same time James Payton's death sentence was being commuted). Does anyone know whether they were related?
Monday, June 22, 2009
Rebel's Bluff
The story of Rebel's Bluff, a high cliff that overlooks a curve along Highway V about three and a half miles west of Mount Vernon, is an interesting tale. Around the mid point of the Civil War, a party of mounted Confederate bushwhackers were supposedly being chased during the night by a detachment of Union soldiers, and, not being familiar with the terrain, the rebels plunged over the embankment in the darkness, falling to their deaths about a hundred feet below.
The family who lived in the immediate vicinity heard the commotion but dared not venture out. The next morning, they found the bodies of the dead soldiers and their horses and buried them where they fell but didn't officially report the incident because they feared reprisal.
The story remained an unconfirmed legend for over a hundred years until about twenty or twenty-five years ago when a local man found an old bent rifle barrel at the site, which seemed to confirm the tale. Local historians speculated that the barrel had been bent by the weight of a horse and/or rider landing on it during the fall.
The old rifle barrel is now on display at the Lawrence County Historical Museum in Mount Vernon. I was at the museum a few weeks ago to talk about the Civil War in southwest Missouri and other regional history. During my visit, I was briefly introduced to the man who found the rifle barrel, but I regret to say I don't recall his name.
The family who lived in the immediate vicinity heard the commotion but dared not venture out. The next morning, they found the bodies of the dead soldiers and their horses and buried them where they fell but didn't officially report the incident because they feared reprisal.
The story remained an unconfirmed legend for over a hundred years until about twenty or twenty-five years ago when a local man found an old bent rifle barrel at the site, which seemed to confirm the tale. Local historians speculated that the barrel had been bent by the weight of a horse and/or rider landing on it during the fall.
The old rifle barrel is now on display at the Lawrence County Historical Museum in Mount Vernon. I was at the museum a few weeks ago to talk about the Civil War in southwest Missouri and other regional history. During my visit, I was briefly introduced to the man who found the rifle barrel, but I regret to say I don't recall his name.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Nevada, the Bushwhacker Capital
This past weekend I was in Nevada for the town's annual Bushwhacker Days celebration. The idea behind the festival is to commemorate the town's heritage as a bushwhacker stronghold during the Civil War. At least that was the inspiration for the name of the festival, although the annual celebration involves a lot more than Civil War-related activities, just as Mount Vernon's annual Apple Butter Makin' Days celebration, for instance, involves a lot more than apple butter.
To be sure, though, many people around Nevada still identify with and celebrate the town's reputation as a bastion of Confederate sentiment during the war. On Saturday, while I was at the festival, for instance, the public address announcer pointed out, with what seemed like a measure of pride, the fact that in the U. S. presidential election of 1860 Abraham Lincoln received not a single vote in Vernon County. And more than once he joked about running jayhawkers out of town.
While Southern pride, in Nevada and elsewhere, mostly manifests itself nowadays in the same good-natured, lighthearted way that the public address announcer meant his comments, there are, of course, a few Dixie diehards who are still fighting the war. I readily admit there's a part of me that identifies with Southern culture, because virtually all of my ancestors came to Missouri from the South. But to the extent that the war was fought over slavery, I have to say that the right side won the war. Of course, we can argue all day about the extent to which the war was, in fact, fought over slavery. Many claim it had very little to do with it, and I can see their point. However, I find the argument that it had nothing whatsoever to do with it somewhat specious.
To be sure, though, many people around Nevada still identify with and celebrate the town's reputation as a bastion of Confederate sentiment during the war. On Saturday, while I was at the festival, for instance, the public address announcer pointed out, with what seemed like a measure of pride, the fact that in the U. S. presidential election of 1860 Abraham Lincoln received not a single vote in Vernon County. And more than once he joked about running jayhawkers out of town.
While Southern pride, in Nevada and elsewhere, mostly manifests itself nowadays in the same good-natured, lighthearted way that the public address announcer meant his comments, there are, of course, a few Dixie diehards who are still fighting the war. I readily admit there's a part of me that identifies with Southern culture, because virtually all of my ancestors came to Missouri from the South. But to the extent that the war was fought over slavery, I have to say that the right side won the war. Of course, we can argue all day about the extent to which the war was, in fact, fought over slavery. Many claim it had very little to do with it, and I can see their point. However, I find the argument that it had nothing whatsoever to do with it somewhat specious.
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