USA > Illinois > Williamson County > History of Williamson county, Illinois, From the earliest times, down to the present, 1876, with an accurate account of the secession movement, ordinances, raids, etc., 1914 > Part 8
USA > Illinois > Williamson County > History of Williamson county, Illinois, From the earliest times, down to the present, with an accurate account of the secession movement, ordinances, raids, etc., also, a complete history of its "bloody vendetta," including all its recondite causes, results, etc., etc. > Part 8
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Pleasant) who worked for the Bulliners, took it up for Bulliner. He went for B's for a gun and soon returned with one, and Tom drew his revolver, but parties interfered, and prevented any killing. This was a serious affair. It was two desperate young men on each side, facing each other with deadly weapons, and it took the greatest exertion to prevent the death of some of them.
On the morning of December 12, 1873, George Bulliner started to Carbondale, on horseback. The sun was standing against the murkey haze of the east, red and sul- len, like a great drop of blood. The pearly, vapor-like sails dotted the sky, and covered the more delicate sculptured clouds with their alabaster sides. The great oak trees lifted their parapets to the morning sky, and spangled the earth with shadows. The voiceless winds swept with sublime resigna- tion lawless through the leafless woods, and à melancholy 'breeze stirred the dead ferns and droping rushes. A cold-scented sleuth- hound had followed the tracks of Bulliner remorselessly. This morning two of them, with stealthy movement, took their position near the Jackson county line in an old tree top, on the ground. There, planted on the spot, their ears drank in every sound that broke the air, mouth half open, ears, eyes, soul, all directed up the road to catch, if
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possible, each passing object. They thought they could tell the thud of Bulliner's horse's feet from all others. They lay down on their breasts, and fixed their eyes on the road winding down the valley. They stuck up brush to shield them from observation, like an Indian watching for his victim, alertly awake to every noise. Bulliner came riding along and one of the assassins fired on him; only two or three of the balls took effect in his hip and leg; but his horse wheeled and threw his back to the assassins, who fired on him again, and forty-four buck-shot took effect in his back, and he fell to the earth. The assassins then escaped. Bulliner was soon found and carried to the nearest house, and his sons notified, but after desperate riding John reached the place only in time to hear his father say, "Turn me over and let me die." He did so, and George Bullin- er escaped from the cruelties of earth to the charities of heaven. Look here, all you infernal wretches, and contemplate a spec- tacle which should inflame our hearts with mercy. Right in the face of heaven, and among men, George Bulliner was slain 'by one of the most sordid mortals that ever disgraced the black catalogue of crime, or befouled the name of civilization, and his death, today, is unexpiated in Williamson County.
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On the night of the 27th of March 1874, while Monroe and David Bulliner were on their way home from church, about half a mile westward from their home, in a lane, they were fired on by two assassins, who were concealed in the fence corners, about twenty feet apart. The balls went in front of their breasts. David stepped forward a few steps, both drew their revolvers and commenced firing on the assassins. A per- fect hurricane of shots followed. The peo- ple going home from church knew what it meant, and they stood still. The assassins emptied two double-barrel shot guns and two navy revolvers. David fired three shots, and Monroe six. The last shot from the as- sasin's gun struck David in the back, and he cried out, "I'm shot!" and at the same time heard a voice further down the road. He asked who was there; a voice replied, "The Stancils." Mrs. Stancil, about fifty yards down the road had received a severe wound in the arm and abdomen, from which she afterwards recovered. The assassins retreated southward from the field. It was a scene worthy of the gods to see these two young men facing two concealed assassins, and fighting them like men of iron. At one time, Monroe charged on one of the villains, at the same time firing, and drove him out of the corner and forced him to take refuge
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behind a rail, which Monroe struck with a ball. Who can read this without wishing a thousand times that he had shot the life's blood out of his black heart! David was car- ried home by a host of friends, who had gathered at the scene. At the gate he asked : "Is it a dream? is it a dream?" and each broken word gurgled up out of the red fountain of his life. His brothers were standing around, their faces sealed with the death seal of inexpressible suffering, and their hearts hushed in the pulsation of woes. His mother lay trembling against the case- ment, her heart throbbing with its burden of sorrow, while the issues of life or death were being waged in the soul of her son. His sisters were standing in the vortex of misery, praying for the dreadful slaughter to be stopped, and suing for happiness with the sunny side of life in view, Convulsive sensations of horror and afright, and smoth- ered execrations pervaded the men, and aud- ible sobbings and screams, with tears, were heard among the women.
This was the worst murder of them all. No other equals it in heinousness. You may combine corruption, debauchery and all the forms of degredation known to inventive genius of man, and cord them together with strings drawn from maiden's hearts, and paint the scene in human blood bespangled
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with 'broken vows and seared consciences, and still it will redden Heaven with revenge- ful blush and leave you blacken hell to make it equal. It had not been long since the flash of fire from the gun of his father's as- sassin had sent a blasphemous challenge to his life. The echo from the gun had not ceased to ring, when this deed of barbarity was committed. David was a gentleman in the fullest sense. There was nothing mean in his appearance or conduct. Twenty-five years of age, tall, and of magnificent ap- pearance, and respected by everybody for his still, quiet manners. But on the morning of the 28th, the twilight shadow of death, cold and gray, came stealing on him. A supernatural lustre lighted up his eye, and illuminated the gathering darkness. At length his eyes closed, and an expression of ineffable placidity settled on his palid lips, and he was no more. He was taken to Ten- nessee, where his father had been, and bur- ied. The night David was killed, the assas- sins had probably four stands, and there were no less than seven men on the watch for him; but after he was shot, he charged Thomas Russell and David Pleasant of be- ing his murderers. Jordan Halstead and Samuel R. Crain came to Marion that night, and I wrote out the writs for their arrest; but it was near daylight when the posse
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comitatus, headed by Constable J. V. Grider, surrounded the residence of Jefferson Rus- sell. Thomas was arrested, and a party sent on into Jackson County after Pleasant. They were both brought to Marion, and Russell employed me for his counsel. While he and Pleasant were in my office, Gordon Clifford, alias "Texas Jack," came in, talk- ed a few words with Russell, and soon left town. Pleasant was about twenty-two. tall, awkwardly built, nervous, and seemed badly frightened. The case against him was nolled, and he immediately left the country. Most people believed him to be guilty. One thing I do know, that he was uneasy as an eel on a hook, and his confused behavior makes it reasonable to suppose him guilty. It is not my business to say who is guilty, and who is not ; but, if he is, until repentence composes his mind, he will be a stranger to peace. Russell changed the venue in his case from W. N. Mitchell, J. P., to Geo. W. Young, J. P. All the batteries of the Bulli- ners were leveled on Russell. They employ- ed three attorneys to assist the State's At- torney. W. W. Cemens was then employed by Russell to assist in his defense. The case went to trial on Thursday, but was nollied by The People, who already had another warrant for his arrest issued by George F. Crain, J. P. The State"s Attorney, Jennings,
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had lost confidence in Young. In fact, being a most consummate scoundrel himself, he could see no virtue in anybody.
The object of the prosecution was to get time to hunt up evidence; but it was a source of positive relief to the defense to have the nolle entered. I knew, most cer- tainly knew, that Young would send my cli- ent to jail; but now I told him for the first time that we could clear him. The venue was again changed from Crain, J. P., to Wil- liam Stover, J. P., of Eight Mile, who came to Marion and heard the case. The trial com- menced Friday morning, March 31, 1874. The Bulliners in Tennessee had not only said that "they did not want any more Bulliners brought down there in boxes," but David, Sen., had come up to see that the guilty were prosecuted. Tom's gun was sent for, and the contents extracted. The People proved by two witnesses that Russell was at the window of the church that night, and the wadding picked up from the ground where the shoot- ing was done, was placed to that drawn from the gun, and gave, as they claimed, an un- broken account of the St. Louis tobacco mar- ket. Balls and cut wadds picked up were similar to those in the gun. They also prov- ed threats. David's dying declaration, say- ing that it was Russell, was introduced. The defense was an alibi, five witnesses swearing
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that he retired at eight o'clock, was seen by them at half-past eight, and again at ten, in his room; the murder having occurred at half-past nine o'clock, two miles away. The tracks were proven to be two numbers too large. The prosecution claimed that de- fendant's witnesses swore falsely ; but I said then, and repeat it now, that they swore the truth. When Russell first employed me, I asked him to call up his witnesses and let's see if they were going to swear harmonious- ly, and if there were any of them whose evidence would damage us, we could leave them off.
He said :
"Call them as you please; they will swear that I was at home. They know that I was at home, and you can call them on the stand without any drilling. I am not afraid for you to do this."
So, I say, if Thomas Russell is guilty, he came out of his window on to the stoop, and down to the ground, and returned the same way.
The prosecution was badly managed. One of defendant's witnesses was Miss Hope Russell, a sister of the defendant, and a lady whose exalted virtues and transcendent beauty claim a consecrated place in this vol- ume. One of The People's witnesses was Miss Amanda Bulliner, both about sixteen
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years old. She took the stand with a help- less and confiding look, her voice was a lit- tle softened by emotion, her rose-left ups curled delicately, but soon her clear, trans- lucent eye lit up with a brilliant lustre. The
shadows of misery seemed to depart.
Her
soft, round cheek dimpled and dimpled again, like the play waters in the sun, in a lovely and touch assembly of charms. Her features were of classic regularity. Her presence seemed to shadow the place. So
pure, so truthful, so charming her actions, that all pronounced her a most gentle, and most noble creature. Though never a jew- eled wreath may span the curls of her bea- tiful brow, yet, happiness may as well erect its shrine around her, for Nature can no fur- ther gifts bestow. Monroe Bulliner swore that he was within a few feet of the assas- sins, but did not recognize them. This was a remarkable exhibition of veracity. He might have identified the parties, and the world believed it true; but, firm as a rock, like a sainted martyr, he stood by the open, bold and honest truth.
One of the witnesses was the famous Sarah Stocks, who swore to threats. Her contour is not as faultless as a Greek god- dess, but her form and features had caught some new grace from the times. Her eye was as clear and cold as a stalactite of Ca-
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pri. She wore a sigh, and there is something in a sigh for everybody. But I will throw no shadow over her, for life in her is as mys- terious as in the rich 'belle; and when the golden chariot of destiny rolls through the skies, she may take her seat among the great. On Saturday evening, the sun went down behind a fleecy cloud, and kindled a volcano for whose silver-rimmed crater fiery rays of scarlet shot up the clear blue dome of heaven, and the lurid lava streamed downward through vapor cliffs and gorges. Alarm took the place of anxiety. The Rus- sells, Hendersons, Sisneys and their friends were in town, and rumor was rife that they had a load of arms, and that they would res- cue Russell if he was committed. The peo- ple were scared, and went home. The State's Attorney ran off. The defense thought that the Bulliners were going to assassinate Rus- sel, if he was turned loose. On the con- trary, they had no such notion, but thought that they would be killed. The excitement arose from mutual misapprehensions . The sheriff summoned twenty-five men, with guns to hold the prisoner. Calvert closed for The People, amidst the greatest excite- ment, and the Court said the defendant was not guilty.
The surprised audience looked blank and sad. James Henderson and a dozen oth-
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ers rushed to the defendant, gave him a pis- tol and rushed him downstairs, where horses were in waiting. Russell and three others mounted, and left town at full speed. A letter was sent from the State Attorney of Jackson County, by James Conner, to the Sheriff, to hold Russell for the murder of George Bulliner, but, for some reason, was not delivered to the Sheriff until he was gone. The hue and cry was levied immedi- ately, and several days were spent in trying to find him, but he has never been arrested. The Bulliners offered $500 reward for his arrest, and $2,000 for the conviction of him and Pleasant, which they afterward with- drew.
I will relate one incident as an illustra- tion of the excitable foolery of the times. One evening, when all hopes of Russell's re- capture were lost, John Russell came into town to see Clemens and myself on business. We had a social meeting appointed at G. L. Owen's that night, for some days 'before. After Russell was talking to us, we got a buggy and started out. Going on, I told Clemens that the people would think from the fact that Russell was there, that wc were going out to see Thomas, and we had better drive rapidly and conceal our buggy, and have some fun; which we did. Sure enough, here they come; on hand cars, horse-
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back, and on foot, with general orders to ar- rest the "whole boiling," and put them in jail. Several hours were spent by these fel- lows in fruitless chase after "all three of them." There were several men in the raid, but I have never been able to find one of them.
If Thomas Russell is guilty, it may be that the almighty sovereignty, love, was too strong for him, and envy seized him, and John and not Davis was the one he wanted to kill. If he could have wrung this lady from John Bulliner, and unstained her life, I doubt not if the shadow of his own would not have again darkened it; and inasmuch as he did not, it may be that the arrowy words wrung by the hand of passion from each of them were destined to hang quiver- ing in memory's core till they festered and bled, making an irremedial wound, shaped in the red-hot forge of jealousy, and cured only by the exultant feelings of gratified revenge. These little bubbles of joy that jet up from the tumultuous waters of passion, soon evaporate, and leave but mingled dross and shame to fester and canker the mind of its possessor, who ever after leads a life of infamy and its accompanying wretchedness. Whoever committed the murders is the guiltiest of them all. It was he who with death first knocked at our portals, and with
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buck and ball opened the flood gates of mis- ery, and let murder rush with living tide upon our people. And today his life is ruin- ed, his hopes blasted, and sooner or later he will come to sorrow, shame and beggary, and have the scorpion thongs of conscience lashing his guilty bosom as he promenades the sidewalks of destiny.
Thomas J. Russell was born February 1st, 1851, is of fine form, dark complexion, black hair and very intelligent. The charge brought no blush to his cheek, 'but through- out the trial he sat contented with but little to say, and kept watching the Bulliners with implacable glance. John Bulliner had his
gun. In speaking of these troubles, it looks like repeating the old story, and open- ing the wounds to bleed afresh; but the cry of murder and bloodshed is of too common occurrence in this county, not to have it re- corded. The smoke from one of these bloody acts scarcely settled on the field, when it was renewed. The report started and went the rounds, only to return and be renewed by the slaughter of another victim.
I am bound to record these acts as they have occurred, for it is a page of history, re- corded and sealed 'by the blood of our fellow men, that will leave a crimson stain on the county, that will be gazed upon and won- dered at by our young, years to come. The
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Bulliner boys appealed to the law. They ap- pealed to humanity. They and their friends rode night and day, and spent hundreds of dollars in prosecuting assassins, as they be- lieved, but they were defeated. The law was not supported by a pure public sentiment of the people. The ones that they looked upon as being guilty were turned loose. What could they do? Must they be driven to the bushes by this hard bargain, or be placed for a lifetime at the mercy of the assassins, with their hearts enclosed in palisades of sorrow? They saw their father and broth- er shot down by vandal hands, and their own lives threatened by fiends stalking in mid- night darkness. Is it a wonder that the spirit of retaliation seized them, and the stern old Mosaic law of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth, went into full force among them, and they became aggressors themselves ? Retaliation was taught them by every cord in human nature. They were drawn upon by every principle that calls forth human action. Their lives were a constant appeal to chivalry. What could they do but pick up the gauntlet hurled into their faces, and give vent to an anger long pent up? At this time there were interests more sacred to the Bulliners than those of peace. Justice was more. Honor was more.
-F 11
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Fidelity to the memory of a murdered fath- er and brother are considerations for which those who spoke so loud in favor of peace, would have foregone progress and prosper- ity, and drawn the shot-gun in stern resent- ment and punishment of those who invaded and violated their sacred rights. When can son forget his father? When did passion and crime ever estrange one i'rom the other? When ocean surrenders up her water, then will the parents of his hopes and tears, and the holy lessons learned on their knees, be alienated from the son's heart. They must, if they are human, esteem revenge for their wrongs as the most sacred inheritance.
The ordinary agents of the law had prov- en insufficient, and Nature rose up to avenge the injustice. Embassadors were at an end. Words of menace and expostulation were exchanged for the thunders of the shot gur .. The quarrels which a hallow place held in abeyance were to be settled in the bushes. The die was cast. The god of the bushes had been invoked. The red hand of murder was raised. The feuds which had so long fermented among the Vendetta, were rele .. gated to the arbitrament of the murderous shot gun. Already the lurid flames of the midnight gun lit up the fair fields of this county. Already the smoke hung like a
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wreath over the fairest lands of Egypt, and death stalked with defiant tread over the county. The past was an index to the fu- ture. The cries of our future victims had already reached our ears. The Bulliners were not uncomplaining sacrifices. The voice of humanity had issued from the shades of their farm, it had been unheeded, and one of them has since been convicted of murder. Whether he is guilty or not is not my province to say, but to tell the facts the best I can, and let the world pass its judg- ment on his slaughtered family.
John Bulliner could have been actuated by but one principle of human action in go- ing into this work of blood, and that was re- venge. If any thing could be tolerated to plead in extenuation of palliation of crime, surely it could be urged in his case; but if he is guilty, I would place his crime at noth- ing less than murder. The assassin of his father were actuated by malice. Their deeds were committeed with no ingredients to as- suage or cool; making them the most das- tardly acts on record. The Crain boys were actuated by a very different motive to join in this work. That is, where the power to do wrong with impunity exists, the will is not long wanting. Whenever mankind sees a chance of doing wrong without ever being
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detected, they do not wait for a provocation. The best men will do wrong, and nothing but wrong, if you remove the fear of possible punishment. It is true that the fear of God restrains a small class. But generally this is but a temporary restraint, and is effective only when protected from strain. But strain it; take away the punishment the men inflict, open the gates of crime, and some of the best men will become the most consu- mate scoundrels in the land.
So it was with the Crains. They did not commence killing from an inherent love of killing, but because it was being done by others, and nobody punished. Hence, men have been heard to say: "I might as well make some money as anybody else."
After Russell's release, several parties formed themselves into fantastic models, and scouted the country. Ready to vie with each other in general follies, they started out 'by being ridiculous and ended by being vicious and criminal. One of these parties headed by Vince Hinchcliff, arrested Gordon Clifford alias "Texas Jack," down near the bloody grounds, and after treating him very badly, brought him to Marion, and just be- fore daylight, had a mock trial before a J. P., the State's Attorney reading the law out a patent office report, and probably the
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drunkest man in the crowd. "Jack" was put in jail without law or evidence-the only witness being "Smokey Joe," who had never seen "Jack" before. "Texas Jack" was a very mean man, but he ought to have been tried as 'becomes ministers of justice in her own sacred temple. He came into this coun- ty in 1873, and lived around promiscuously for two years, offering gratuitous meanness for his board. He was about twenty-five years old, tall, slender, fine-looking fellow, and a very fast young man generously, a noisy ladies' man, and horse jockey. He lay in jail until October, when he was indicted for harboring "fugitives from justice," meaning Thomas Russell. He gave bond in the sum of $500, and after having a couple of rows with Hinchcliff for the treatment he received from him he left the country. He said he came from Kansas, and Vince wrote there, and his character was very bad. When he was arrested, the word "hanging" was pretty freely used, and I would suggest that if he ever take a mania for suicide and will come back to this county, he may find some- body who will assist him off in a romantic manner.
Some of their scouting parties talked about hanging men; plans were laid in Ma- rion; meetings were held; names given; the
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leading men on the Russell-Henderson side were to be hung; but they never could get the executioners on the ground. After the Russell trial, James Henderson was waylaid. He sat up many a night all night, watching for the assassins, 'but his dogs barked and his mules brayed, every time they would come near the house, as if to warn their mas- ter that assassins lurked in the bushes and they would run off. One night he hitched his mules out in the woods to keep them from making a noise, so that he could kill the assassins, but just before they got up that night in shooting distance of him, the mules broke loose and came running to the house. He worked in his field, surrounded by a dense forest, with Granite and little Frank Jeffreys acting as guards for him.
On the morning of May 15, 1874, while Frank was on watch, he said he saw some- thing behind a pile of logs in the field. James looked and said he guessed it was nothing. In the afternoon, Granite had to help her mother wash, and Frank was on guard alone. About three o'clock he said he was lonesome sitting up in the edge of the woods, and wanted to come down to his foster-father. James, who had been building fence, told him to come, and he lay down with the boy. Three assassins lay concealed behind a pile
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of logs, twenty-seven steps away. The drip- ping drab of a summer sky overhung the scene in pearly sails, and just when our people were looking for light out of dark- ness, to unmantle the smoldering folds of hatred, they fired on Henderson, who lay in his side, the balls taking effect in his back. He turned over on his face, and put his hand over his eyes while looking at them. One of them walked out from behind the logs and fired at him with a pistol, and struck him in the hand. They then ran off. He said right there, while his agonizing na- ture was vibrating in horrid suspense be- tween life and death, that he recognized the assassins as James Norris, John Bulliner and Manuel or Monroe Bulliner. Thomas Wilson, a young man who was near by and saw the men, did not know them. Hender- son was carried to his house, and lingered eight days before he died. When the news of the shooting reached Marion, but little concern was manifested. There was a dispo- sition that so long as they kept even down on the "bloody ground" it was all right. One fellow cried out, "Thank God, they have got the old king bee at last." But such a senti- ment was too shocking to float unrebuked on the air of Marion. We know what such sen- timents have produced in other countries.
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