Chapter II: Part 2

As we have seen, attempts upon the life of old man McCoy had thus far proved abortive. Somehow, all the best-laid plans of the Hatfields had miscarried. Suspicion grew that there must be a traitor in their camp, and this became more strong as time rolled on, with the result that the wife and mother of one Daniels were accused of furnishing information to the McCoys. One night, while Daniels was absent from home, the house was surrounded, the door broken open and the two women were cruelly beaten. Mrs. Daniels subsequently died from her injuries; the old lady was rendered a cripple for life.

Daniels' wife was a sister of Jeff McCoy, who had somehow secured information sufficient to regard Wallace as the instigator and leader of the outrage. He hunted for him high and low, but had lost all trace of him until, to his great joy, he discovered his whereabouts--at the home of Cap Hatfield.

On November 17th, 1886, accompanied by a friend, he went in search of Wallace. Cap Hatfield was absent; his wife lay ill in bed. When McCoy approached the house Wallace was busily at work in the yard. He was called upon to surrender. On looking up he saw himself covered by two guns. McCoy pretended to arrest him for the purpose of taking him to Pikeville for trial of the indictments returned against the assailant of the Daniels women. Wallace, however, readily surmised the true intention of his captors. He expected no mercy at the hands of the man who believed and knew him to be guilty of beating the sister to death, and attempted escape. On the first opportunity, while the vigilance of his captors had momentarily relaxed, he started to run, but was shot down, although not seriously wounded. He gained the house, barricaded the door, and through the window opened fire upon McCoy and his associate. These returned the fire, shot after shot they drove through the windows and door, for, at this time, the heavy repeating Winchester rifle had come into general use. While other modern inventions found no market there, the most improved guns and pistols might have been found in homes that had not learned the use of a cook stove.

The fusilade continued for some time, but Wallace, in his fort of log walls, drove the enemies from the field.

Immediately upon Cap Hatfield's return Wallace was told to swear out a warrant against Jeff McCoy and his companion Hurley. The papers were taken in hand by Cap Hatfield, who had secured the appointment of special constable. He was not long finding the men. With his accustomed coolness he covered them with his guns, ordered Hurley to throw his weapon on the ground and to disarm McCoy. This capture of two armed and dangerous men single-handed proved the daring of Hatfield. He started for Logan Court House, W. Va., with his prisoners. On the way he was joined by Wallace, doubtless by previous appointment. Together they proceeded to Thacker, a small village on the way. There a short halt was made, and the prisoners were left to themselves. This opportunity McCoy used to cut the thongs that tied his hands by means of a knife held between his teeth. As soon as his hands were free he started on a run for the Kentucky side. He reached the Tug Fork, plunged into the stream and swam for life. But his captors were marksmen. He had reached the bank of the river on the opposite side and was climbing the steep slope, when a well-directed shot from Cap's gun tore through his heart and he fell dead upon his face.

It was common knowledge that the opportunity to escape had been given him deliberately. Hatfield and Wallace enjoyed to the full the fruitless effort to escape death. It was sport, nothing more.

Hurley, strange to say, was liberated. Wallace escaped, but in the following spring was captured by two of Jeff McCoy's brothers, Dud and Jake, and delivered to the jailer of Pike. Before trial he broke jail and returned to Cap Hatfield, who supplied him liberally with money and a mount to aid his escape.

For some time thereafter all trace of him was lost. At last he was heard of in Virginia. Unwilling to turn his hands to honest labor, he had engaged in the illicit sale of whiskey. For this he was arrested and fined. In this wise his name became public and in the course of time his whereabouts became known back in Kentucky. Jeff McCoy's brothers offered a reward for his capture and two men started upon the trail of the much desired fugitive. Within a short time they returned to Kentucky and claimed the reward. Where was the prisoner? The answer was given by the exhibition of a bloody lock of hair--the reward was paid.

Came the year 1887. Still not one of the twenty-three murderers of the three McCoy brothers had been apprehended, although they were frequently seen on the Kentucky side. Attempts to take them had been made from time to time, but the officers always found them in such numbers and so perfectly armed that an attempt to force their arrest would have resulted in much bloodshed without accomplishing the arrest.

Then Governor Proctor Knott of Kentucky took a hand and offered tempting rewards. His successor, General Simon Bolivar Buckner, renewed them, and issued requisitions for the twenty-three murderers upon the governor of West Virginia, appointing as agent one Frank Phillips to receive the prisoners.

Weeks passed and no attempt was made on the part of the West Virginia officers to execute the warrants for these men so badly wanted in Kentucky, and, to the utter surprise and indignation of Governor Buckner, the West Virginia Executive, Governor Wilson, refused to honor the requisitions, assigning various reasons and excuses for his non-action.

Governor Buckner, the old "warhorse," as his friends and comrades-in-arms in the Civil War affectionately dubbed him, took the West Virginia governor to task for his lack of coöperation in the apprehension of the murderers. An exceedingly salty correspondence followed. The controversy grew so bitter that, for a time, a declaration of war between the two States would have surprised no one. And while the governors fought each other on paper, the murder mill ground on uninterrupted, the bloody warfare continued without molestation.

Now enters upon the scene Frank Phillips, Governor Buckner's Kentucky agent, to receive the persons named in the requisition upon the Governor of West Virginia. He was a deputy sheriff. Though of slight stature, he was as brave a little man as ever trod the soil of Kentucky, so noted for her brave sons. He was rapid as lightning, and would have made an ideal quarterback for any college football team. With all his bravery he was cautious, circumspect and shrewd. A terror to evil-doers, he was the general favorite throughout Pike County among the law-abiding citizens.

An incident which occurred during the summer of 1887, illustrates the utter fearlessness of the little, keen-eyed deputy sheriff. Warrants for the murderers of the three McCoy brothers had been issued upon the indictments repeatedly and as often returned by the sheriff "not found," notwithstanding the presence of the fugitives on the Kentucky side on various occasions was common knowledge. Having so long remained unmolested, the Hatfields grew bold, and in 1887, took great interest in the Pike County election. Such was their contempt of the officers that as election day approached, the sheriff of Pike County was notified to instruct his deputies, that had warrants against them, to be certain and stay away from the voting precinct at which they, the Hatfields, would appear on election days, or, if the officers should attend, to leave the bench warrants for their arrest behind.

The election following the appointment of Frank Phillips as a deputy was one of deep interest to the Hatfields. Desiring to attend it, they sent word to Phillips to remain away, or to come unarmed and without warrants. He was threatened with sure death if he violated these injunctions. Frank, however, was cast in a different mold from that of his predecessors. He replied, in writing, that business demanded his presence at that election precinct on election day; that he would be there; that he would bring along the bench warrants, would come fully armed and that he intended to either take or kill them.

The Hatfields were amazed at the nerve of the man, but finally came to regard it as an idle boast. True to his word, Phillips went to the election ground. The Hatfields approached within gunshot distance and fired a volley through the brush and bushes, stampeding all but some eight or ten persons. The plucky little deputy sheriff remained till late in the afternoon, but the Hatfields withdrew. Inspiring example of what a brave, determined officer may do and it proves that with all their contempt for law and order deep down in the hearts of outlaws there is the fear of retribution and punishment. The little man had called their bluff because he had _right_ on his side, and the nerve to contend for that right, and wherever there is a genuine determination to put an end to outlawry, it can be done, it matters not how desperate and vicious the outlaws may be.

Late in the fall of the same year Phillips, with three other men, crossed over into Logan County, W. Va., to receive the prisoners who had been arrested, as he supposed, on warrants issued by Governor Wilson after the issuance of the Kentucky governor's requisitions.

After crossing the line between the two States he, for the first time, learned that no warrants had ever been issued, at least that no arrests had been made or even attempted. Then something happened. He and his men suddenly came upon Selkirk McCoy, Tom Chambers and Mose Christian, three of the murder clan that slew the McCoy brothers, and who were included in the requisitions. The opportunity to nab them was too good to resist the temptation to capture them, even without warrants, and it was done. He hurried them back and across the line into Kentucky, served them with Kentucky bench warrants and delivered them to the jailer at Pikeville.

The rage of the Hatfields over this "unlawful" arrest knew no bounds. It was an outrage, and a shameful violation of the law, they cried. They sought an outlet for their pent-up indignation and decided to make another attempt upon the life of old man McCoy.

For this purpose the leaders selected the most dangerous and desperate members of the clan.

At midnight, January 1st, 1888, this band of desperadoes, led by Cap Hatfield, heartless cutthroats all, surrounded the house of Randolph McCoy. On New Year, when every man and woman in the land should reflect regretfully upon the many follies and errors committed during the year gone by and good resolutions should fill every heart, on New Year's night this outlaw band prepared to and did inaugurate another year of bloodshed and of horror.

Silently, with the stealth of Indians, the phantom shadows moved about the doomed homestead. They were in no hurry. It was far from their intention to break into the house and with a few well-directed shots put an end to the old man whom they had sworn to destroy. No! Such a death would have been too quick and painless. He must burn; they must maim and torture. What mattered it that women were in the house. "They will serve him for company," chuckled the heartless Jim Vance. They must first be made to feel the impossibility of escape; to entertain their tormentors with their distress and horror. They must furnish sport, the sport the savages so much delighted in.

Within all was quiet. The inmates were all wrapped in slumber, utterly unconscious of the fate that was in store for them. Without, through the gloom of the cold January night, shadows flitted to and fro, busily attending to their hellish work.

The McCoy homestead was a double log house, separating the two houses was a wide passage, and all under one roof. On one side of the building a match is struck. The next moment a pine torch casts a lurid glare into the darkness. The hand that holds it reaches upward and touches the low board roof. It sets it on fire in a dozen places. The family is suddenly awakened by the yells of exultation from the savages without. Shots pour into the houses through doors and windows. Calvin McCoy, the son, who slept upstairs, dresses hurriedly, grasps his rifle and cartridges and descends to the lower floor. He approaches the bed of his terror-stricken, aged mother, pats her gently on her cheek, cautions her to lie still, telling her to fear not, though in his heart he has no hope. He returns to his room and opens fire upon the outlaws.

His father, cool and undaunted, fights the flames devouring the roof from the loft. The water becomes exhausted. He resorts to buttermilk, of which there happened to be large quantities in churns. The fire is about conquered. An outlaw hand reaches up to rekindle it with another torch. Randolph McCoy takes up his gun, aims and shatters the hand that holds it. A curse and loud imprecations come to his ears, and tell him that the shot went true.

In the room across the passage between the two houses slept the rest of the family, two daughters and two grandchildren. The unmarried daughter, Allifair, frightened and dazed, hears a knock at the door and opens it. She is requested to make a light. She replies that she has neither fire nor matches. The command is repeated; again she refuses to comply. Jim Vance, Sr., the grey-haired outlaw, commands Ellison Mount to shoot her. She prays for them to spare her, but their hearts were strangers to pity. Mount fires point-blank at her breast and she falls to the floor with a cry.

The mother from her own room across the passage hears the expiring scream of her child, the dull thud upon the floor. Oh, the horror of it! Surrounded on every hand by devils in human shape; the house on fire over their heads; the husband and son fighting heroically, but only prolonging the useless, inevitably useless struggle; in the other room lies the body of Allifair. She hears the others screaming for help. Will she dare to go to them? Yes. A true mother's love fears no dangers. Where men shrink back in fear and terror a mother will rush into the jaws of death to defend and save her offspring. She opens the door wide and is greeted with bullets. She cares nothing for their vicious hiss. She goes on. Already she has crossed half the space that separates her from her children, when she is confronted by the wretch Vance. He orders her to return to her room. Upon her refusal he strikes blow upon blow with the butt of his gun upon the head and body of the grey-haired woman and frenzied mother. She falls badly injured upon the floor. He kicks her into merciful insensibility.

In the meantime, Calvin and his father had maintained a spirited fire upon the assassins that encircled the house. But the flames roar and feed unchecked. The smoke prevents good aim. Calvin is driven down-stairs by the heat and flames and acrid smoke. He suggests to his father to attempt a sortie. He remembers the corn-crib, a heavy log structure. He would attempt to reach it. Once there he might cover his father's retreat thither. Once there, they might yet drive their assailants off.

He opens the door and starts on his perilous journey, running with the swiftness of the deer to get beyond the betraying circle of light from the now fiercely burning homestead. He is seen and instantly shot at. Unharmed by this volley, he runs as he has never run before. The balls whistle above him, around him, and plow the dirt at his feet. Already he has covered more than half the distance, now three-quarters of it. Yet he is untouched. He is within three or four feet of the little house he strives so manfully to reach. At the threshold of the refuge he throws up his hands, staggers, sinks to his knees, rises to his feet again, then plunges heavily down upon the frozen ground, dead.

After his son's fatal attempt to escape, old man McCoy grasped a double-barreled shotgun, sprang from the door, discharged both barrels with telling effect into the gathered clan, and before they could realize what was happening their intended victim had disappeared in the darkness beyond the firelight, a darkness intensified by the glare of the flames, making aim impossible. Not a shot of the many vicious volleys that were fired after him touched him. Providence had once more decreed to spare the old man. But at what cost!

Finding that the main object of their hatred and vengeance had again been baffled, the assassins withdrew, leaving behind them their work of destruction, the burning home of Randolph McCoy; the old mother groaning, unconscious and dangerously wounded on the ground; the daughter Allifair lying in a pool of blood; the son Calvin dead at the corn-crib; the remaining children crazed with terror and sorrow.

The house was rapidly burning to the ground. Before the murderers withdrew, they had carefully closed the doors and window-shutters with the avowed purpose of cremating the entire family yet in the house. The insensible mother they had dragged back into one of the rooms, that she, too, might perish by fire.

The sister of Allifair, immediately upon the withdrawal of the cowardly wretches, regained her courage and self-possession. She placed the body of her dead sister upon a feather bed and dragged it from the house. She then returned for her mother, whom she also rescued. The little grandchild, a boy seven years old, also exhibited heroism, for one so young, for when he ran from the burning home, which then, in fact, was momentarily threatening to fall in, he thought of his little sister. The little hero braved the fire, was swallowed up for a few minutes in the smoke, but emerged triumphantly leading the little cripple by the hand. Nor did the boy cry once, it is said, during that night of horror. The daughter ministered to the suffering mother as best she could. Barefooted, in the cruel cold of a January night, she gave no thought to herself. Her feet were badly frost-bitten. Not until daylight came assistance.

The Hatfields had scored another victory. True, the man whose death they craved beyond all else, had escaped them, but they had broken his spirit. They had murdered, sent to eternity two more of his children and terribly injured, almost killed, his aged wife.

The blood of the victims cried out to God. This time not in vain, for retribution followed swiftly on the heels of the murderers. From this night on their star of success was on the wane. One by one they were struck down; one expiated his crime upon the gallows; others found opportunity and time for reflection on their past deeds within the narrow, gloomy cells of the State prison.

The news of the dastardly, cowardly, savage night attack spread like wildfire. Newspaper accounts of the tragedy were everywhere received at first with doubt and considered as the figments of imagination of sensation writers. East, West, North and South newspapers began to make inquiries. It seemed beyond the possibility of belief that such horrors could occur in our day of enlightenment, in a land which boasts of a superior civilization and culture, and arrogates to itself the proud distinction of the "first Christian nation in the world." As days passed, the story was verified. Its truth might no longer be doubted. Then followed a deluge of editorial comments. The authorities of Kentucky and West Virginia were mercilessly assailed for their failure to cope with crimes of such magnitude. Yet, even after this last horror, West Virginia refused to join hands with Kentucky in delivering the criminals to justice. The murderous clan continued unmolested and was free to commit new crimes, invading Kentucky at will, defying the entire legal and governmental machinery of that State. They felt secure with the governor of their own state apparently taking their part.

Then Frank Phillips started out to do, on his own responsibility, what West Virginia should have done. Kentucky had done all that could possibly be done to settle and arrange matters through the regular channels of law and constitution. Nothing remained now but to act without the consent and authority of West Virginia and the redoubtable Frank Phillips, chafing at all this delay like a restless mustang, decided to act.

When the news of the night attack and assassinations of January 1st were brought to him, he threw all caution to the winds. He formed a band of trusty followers, men that, like himself, would do and dare.

"If the governor of West Virginia is determined to continue the protection of his murderous pets, I will protect the citizens of Kentucky, or die in the attempt!" he declared. From that day there was no longer rest, peace or safety for the Hatfield clan of West Virginia.

Phillips had a system entirely his own. He quickly demonstrated his superiority of cunning and courage.

A few days were spent in equipping and organizing his band of raiders. Then swiftly they crossed the border into West Virginia and commenced their dangerous operations. Always on the move, they struck a rapid blow here and another there, always dashing upon the enemy at unexpected times and places. To describe those raids in detail would fill a book and furnish thrilling reading. But we shall select only a few incidents to illustrate the daring and determination of Frank Phillips and his devoted band.

On January 8th, 1888, Phillips ascended the steep slopes of Thacker mountain. Suddenly they came in sight of Cap Hatfield and the brutal, but desperately courageous Jim Vance, Sr. Hatfield at once saw the uselessness of engaging in combat and precipitately fled across the mountain on foot, escaping the bullets that were sent after him. Cap continued on his retreat without one thought for his pal. At "Hog Floyd" Hatfield's, Cap stopped long enough to secure a mount. From there he rode, at breakneck speed, without bridle or saddle, to the camp of his followers.

Vance, thus abandoned and alone, stood his ground. He opened fire upon the Kentuckians without a moment's hesitation. The near presence of his enemies infuriated this grey-haired man, grown old in bloody crimes, beyond measure. But one desire, paramount, possessed him, the desire to kill, kill, kill, as long as life remained in his aged body. To attempt escape never for a moment entered his mind.

He dropped behind an old tree stump and with vengeful eye drove shot after shot into the ranks of the astonished raiders, who were forced to take cover. Several of them had already been wounded. Vance, behind his natural rampart, remained unharmed. He laughed aloud, taunted his assailants with cowardice, and continued firing. His mortal hatred of the men before him inspired him to a heroism worthy of a better cause. At last a flank movement deprived him of the protection afforded him by the stump. His body now became exposed to fire from three sides, and a Winchester rifle bullet brought him to the ground. As he struggled to rise shot after shot penetrated him. Full of lead, wounded unto death, the blood streaming from his many wounds, he yet attempted to use his pistols. Then Phillips stepped forward and approached the dying desperado, the man who had given the heartless order to Ellison Mount to shoot the innocent Allifair, the heartless wretch that had pounded savagely the aged Mrs. McCoy and had laughed and tittered in the doing, the man who had incited Cap to the burning of the McCoy home and of all its inmates. Phillips raised the Winchester to end the outlaw's life. But the man was down. He could not do it. Vance saw his hesitation. He slowly raised upon his left arm and in his dying moments pressed hard upon the trigger of his Colt's pistol. Warned by companions, Phillips saw the motion and sent a ball crashing through the outlaw's brain.

Immediately after Cap Hatfield's arrival at the camp of "Devil Anse" the entire available force was summoned and divided into detachments. Plans were discussed and perfected by which Phillips was to be enticed into an ambush and annihilated. This force remained under arms for many days.

About ten days after the raid of January 8th, which had resulted in the killing of Vance, Phillips suddenly appeared on Grapeville Creek, where he encountered the Hatfields in force. A severe battle immediately developed.

The Kentuckians outnumbered the West Virginia outlaws. The latter, however, were on foot and had the advantage of position from the start. From it they fired upon Phillips with telling effect, killing and wounding many horses with the first volley. These, maddened with pain and frightened by the sudden fire, reared and plunged and threw the column into confusion. The keen eyes of Frank Phillips cast about for a spot of vantage and discovered a stone fence a few hundred yards away, affording a strong position. With his accustomed quickness of determining an action, he prepared to seize it. The command was given to dismount all those yet mounted. Bending their heads to the bullets, they rushed on and over and behind the stone wall. Only one of their number had dropped in the essay. Another assisted him to his feet, and all reached the wall in safety.

Now the tables were turned. Volley upon volley was fired into the ambushed Hatfields with the result that after two hours and fifteen minutes of long range fighting the outlaws retreated, taking along their many wounded, but leaving William Dempsey dead on the field.

In this battle the Hatfields fought with the best rifles that money could procure, heavy calibre Colts and Winchester rifles. The Kentuckians were armed less perfectly, about half of them using rifles and shotguns of the old pattern. Phillips and two others, only, fought with repeating rifles. It was due to this superiority in armament that the Kentuckians suffered such heavy losses in horses and wounded men.

Among the most severely injured was Bud McCoy. Among the Hatfield wounded was Tom Mitchell, shot in the side; "Indian" Hatfield, wounded in the thigh; Lee White, shot three times. Many minor casualties occurred.

The battle of Grape Vine Creek was the last serious fight between the Hatfield outlaws and the Kentucky officers, although sporadic killings occurred at frequent intervals.

In the several forays made by Frank Phillips and his party nine of the outlaws were captured and landed in jail at Pikeville.

In the meantime the quarrel between the two governors continued. The correspondence between them was exceedingly pithy and acrimonious. We shall quote one or two letters from Governor Buckner of Kentucky to Governor Wilson of West Virginia, which will fully explain the attitudes taken by these two gentlemen in this matter.

COMMONWEALTH OF KENTUCKY

EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT

Frankfort, Ky., January 30th, 1888.

His Excellency, E. W. Wilson,
Governor of West Virginia.

On the tenth day of September last, in the discharge of what I
conceived to be my duty as Governor of this Commonwealth, I issued
a requisition upon your Excellency for the rendition of Anderson
Hatfield and others, charged by indictment with wilful murder
committed in Pike County, Kentucky, on the 9th day of August, 1882.
On the 30th of September, 1887, said requisition was returned to
me with a letter from your Excellency, calling my attention to
a law of West Virginia, a copy of which you were kind enough to
enclose, and which you seemed to think prevented a compliance on
your part with my demand, until it should be accompanied by the
affidavit indicated in the law above referred to. Without then
stopping to discuss the correctness of your construction of the law
in question, or its validity, even conceding your construction to
be correct, the desired affidavit having been obtained was attached
to said requisition, which was again enclosed to your Excellency on
the 13th of October, 1887.

Having thus complied with every condition which your Excellency has
indicated that should be necessary, I had every reason to suppose
that steps had been taken for the rendition of the fugitives named,
and I knew nothing to the contrary, until early in the present
month, when I was advised by the authorities of Pike County that
your Excellency had, for some cause, declined up to that time,
to issue your warrant for the arrest and delivery of the parties
referred to, and that, in addition to the crime for which they
stood indicted, they had recently perpetrated other crimes of the
most atrocious character in the same locality.

Accordingly, on the 9th inst., I wrote your Excellency, advising
you of the information which I had received, and requesting to
be advised whether there was then anything which prevented the
rendition of the criminals. In response to this letter I received,
only a few days since, your letter of January 21st (1888) in which
you did me the honor to state your reasons for not complying
with my request, and in which, among other things, you say: "and
although the application for the requisition does not appear to be
made or supported by any official authority of Pike County, etc."

I confess myself at a loss to understand how your Excellency
_could possibly know anything whatever about the character of the
application made to me for a requisition in this case_. I did _not_
attach it to the requisition enclosed to your Excellency, for the
obvious reason that the law governing the extradition of fugitives
_nowhere requires it_, or in any way intimates _that it would even
be proper to do so_. On the contrary, it seems to contemplate, the
papers being correct in other respects, that the Executive making
the demand, must be the sole Judge of the circumstances under which
it would be proper for him to issue his requisition. I, therefore,
had no reason to suppose that your Excellency would feel it your
duty to inquire into this point, especially as you had in your
first letter, returning the requisition, given no such intimation.

But if your Excellency desires to be advised as to that branch
of the case, I certainly have no objections to telling you that
the application for the requisition and rewards in this case was
made by the County Judge of Pike County, indorsed by the Judge of
the District Court, and urged by the Commonwealth's Attorney of
the district, who was personally present when the application was
presented.

In referring to Elias Hatfield and Andrew Varney, your Excellency
is pleased to say: "The many affidavits of reliable persons
showing that these two men were miles away at the time of the
killing of the McCoys induced me to withhold, for the present, the
warrant as to them, believing that when your Excellency was made
acquainted with the facts their rendition would not be demanded."
The indictment accompanying the requisition charges that these
two men were present and aided in the killing; this being so, _I
respectfully submit that the guilt or innocence of these men is
a question which it is not the province of your Excellency or
myself to decide_, but one which the court, having jurisdiction
of the case can alone rightfully determine. And if, as you seem
to suppose, the innocence of these two men can be so easily
established, it would seem strange that they have not long before
this voluntarily appeared in the court where they stand accused,
and which is so convenient to their homes, and in which they might,
if such be the case, be triumphantly vindicated against this grave
charge.

From my knowledge of the enlightened and upright Judge of the court
in which they stand charged, I feel assured that they would be
awarded a speedy and fair trial; but if they think otherwise, and
have fears, either as to the impartiality of the Judge, or as to
the prejudice of the community in whose midst they are to be tried,
they can, under our laws, not only swear off the Judge, but can, on
proper showing, easily obtain a change of venue to another county
in which no prejudice whatever exists. Under these circumstances,
your Excellency can readily see that they would, in any event, have
no difficulty whatever in obtaining a fair and impartial trial.

Before receiving your letter I had been fully apprised of the
efforts on the part of P. A. Kline to secure a withdrawal of the
requisition and rewards in this case; in fact, the cool proposition
made to me by the indicted parties through their attorney, to the
effect that they would obligate themselves not to come again into
Kentucky, provided I would withdraw the requisitions and rewards
named, was endorsed by Mr. Kline, who had previously shown an
active interest in their apprehension. But this proposition, I,
of course, declined to entertain, much less to agree to; and even
admitting the truth of the affidavit enclosed by your Excellency,
which charges in terms that the friends of the indicted parties
succeeded in bribing Kline, their former enemy, to urge the
acceptance of their proposition, I cannot see why this should
cause your Excellency to hesitate about issuing your warrant for
the rendition of these parties to the proper authorities, upon
whose application the requisition was issued, and whose conduct is
not even questioned. Indeed, it seems to me that the questionable
means which the friends of the indicted parties have been employing
to secure a withdrawal of the requisition and rewards of this
case ought, of itself, to induce your Excellency to regard with
suspicion the efforts which they seem to be making to prevent the
issuing of your warrant for their apprehension and delivery.

My information as to the history of these troubles, briefly stated,
are as follows: On the 9th day of August, 1882, Anderson Hatfield
and twenty-two other desperate characters of Logan County, West
Virginia, residing near the State line, crossed the river into
Pike County, Kentucky, arrested three sons of Randolph McCoy,
and having tied them to trees, deliberately shot them to death.
It was for this cruel and inhuman murder that the parties named
in my requisition were indicted in the Pike Circuit Court, three
separate indictments having been found against the parties named
for the murder of the three McCoy brothers, respectively; though
it is possible that only one of these indictments was attached to
the requisition issued upon your Excellency on the 10th day of
September last.

So far from "no move having been made in this matter for more than
five years after the finding of the indictments," as stated by your
Excellency, the fact is, that bench warrants have been all the
while in the hands of the officers of Pike County, in the hope that
these parties, who lived near the State line, and were frequently
seen in Kentucky, could be arrested by the authorities of the
State without the necessity of applying for a requisition upon the
Governor of West Virginia; and my predecessor at one time offered a
reward for those who were supposed to be most responsible for the
murder. But the indicted parties, knowing the efforts which were
being made for their arrest, though frequently seen in Kentucky,
always came in crowds, well armed, so that it was impossible to
arrest them before they could return to the West Virginia side of
the river. They have, on several occasions, while in Kentucky,
_unmercifully whipped defenseless women_ and inoffensive men, whose
only provocation was some alleged remark in disapproval of their
lawless conduct.

The names of the various persons, who, at different times, have
been thus brutally assailed, and the circumstances connected
therewith, have been furnished me, but it is not deemed necessary
here to mention them in detail.

Finally, on the 10th day of September last, upon the application
of the local authorities, as heretofore indicated, I issued my
requisition for all the persons named in the indictment for the
murder of the McCoy brothers, and offered suitable rewards for four
of the number, represented as being the leaders of the party and
most responsible for their conduct.

Thus matters stood until the latter part of December (1887),
when Frank Phillips, named as agent in the requisition for these
parties, having sent the required fee, and being unable to hear
anything from your Excellency, went into West Virginia in company
with two others, and without any disturbance or conflict of any
kind, succeeded in capturing Tom Chambers, Selkirk McCoy and Moses
Christian, three of the persons named in the indictment for the
murder of the McCoy brothers, who were brought to Kentucky and
lodged in the jail of Pike County. This so incensed the Hatfield
party that on the night of January 1st (1888) a company of twelve
men, headed by Cap Hatfield and James Vance, Sr., came from West
Virginia into Pike County (Kentucky) and having surrounded the
house of Randolph McCoy, the father of the three McCoy brothers,
who had been murdered in 1882, commanded him to surrender, saying
they were the Hatfield crowd. They then forced their way into a
room where the daughters were sleeping, shot one of them through
the heart, and set fire to the house. The old man and his son,
Calvin, seeing that they intended to kill them, made the best
defense they could, but the flames soon drove them from the house.

The son, in his efforts to escape, was riddled with bullets, and
the old man, who ran in an opposite direction, was fired upon by
several of the party, but escaped unhurt. His wife, had, in the
meantime, come out of the house and begged for mercy, but was
struck on the head and side with a gun, breaking her ribs and
knocking her senseless to the ground, after which she was thrown
back into the house to be burnt, but was dragged out by her
daughters as they left the burning building. Some days thereafter,
twenty-six men armed themselves and went into West Virginia in
pursuit of the perpetrators of this atrocious crime, and on
reaching the house of Anderson Hatfield, so far from abusing or
mistreating his wife, as has been represented to your Excellency,
they treated her kindly, and at her request left some of their
party there with her to quiet her fears; but after leaving there in
search of the men, they were fired upon by James Vance, Sr., Cap
Hatfield and others, and in the fight which followed, James Vance,
Sr., was killed, having on his person when killed two pistols and
a repeating rifle. Old Randolph McCoy was not with this raiding
party, as has been represented to your Excellency, but was at that
time in Pikeville, Kentucky, as the citizens of that place will all
testify.

The pursuing party then returned to Kentucky, and being reinforced
by ten additional men, went the next day and succeeded, without the
firing of a gun, in capturing six more of the men indicted for
the murder of the McCoy brothers, in 1882, bringing them back to
Kentucky, where they were lodged in the jail of Pike County.

Eight or ten days thereafter, Frank Phillips and eighteen others
went again into West Virginia in pursuit of the remaining parties,
belonging to what is known as the Hatfield crowd, and only a short
distance from the State line were met by Cap Hatfield, Anderson
Hatfield and ten armed men, who fired upon Phillips and his posse
from ambush before they were aware of their presence. Phillips and
his party returned the fire, killing Dempsey and putting others
to flight. Phillips and his party then returned to the Kentucky
side, but went back on the following day, and as to what has since
occurred I have no information.

The foregoing account, which differs so widely from that received
by you, was obtained from the County Attorney of Pike County, who
claims to have taken great pains to ascertain the real facts,
and who seems to have no doubt about its correctness; but I, of
course, understand how difficult it is to arrive at exact facts
in an affair of this kind from the statements which he may have
heard from the parties on either side. I regret exceedingly that
any portion of the citizens of Pike County should have attempted,
under any circumstances, to arrest citizens of West Virginia for
crimes committed in the State without first obtaining the requisite
authority therefor. I am satisfied that Frank Phillips, the agent
appointed by me to receive the fugitives named in my requisition,
is not the murderous outlaw your Excellency seems to suppose;
but as he has undertaken to arrest some of the parties in West
Virginia, without your warrant, and is, therefore, objectionable
to you, I will, when your Excellency indicates your readiness
to surrender the persons demanded, take pleasure in designating
another agent for that purpose.

Your obedient servant,
S. B. BUCKNER.

Governor Wilson still refused to honor Kentucky's requisition for the indicted outlaws, asserting that the requisition of Governor Buckner had been and was being abused and prostituted for base purposes; that a warrant issued by the Governor of West Virginia would be used for the same purpose. He would withhold the warrants for more positive proof, maintaining that a warrant issued by him before the return to the State of West Virginia of the persons kidnapped in his State and thrown into prison in Kentucky, would be construed as a ratification of acts of lawlessness on the part of Kentucky officers, which neither the peace nor the safety of his people could permit or approve of. "Instead of the Phillips raid into the territory of a sister State being allowed to stand as examples for the invitation of like occurrences, I am impressed with the belief that they should be made examples of judicial determination, which would discourage their repetition either to or from this State." Governor Wilson further announced that he had instituted proceedings in the United States Circuit Court for the District of Kentucky for a settlement of the questions involved.

Comment on this attitude of West Virginia's chief executive is unnecessary. Yet we feel that a few paragraphs of Governor Buckner's response are in place.

"Your Excellency," answered Governor Buckner (in part), "seems to
have forgotten that, long before any of the Phillips raids referred
to had occurred, a band of armed men from West Virginia came into
Pike County, Kentucky, violently seized three citizens of the State
who were at the time in custody of the local authorities of that
county, forcibly took them to West Virginia, and after detaining
them there for some time, brought them back to this State and
deliberately shot them to death; that, as early as the tenth of
September last, I demanded the rendition of the persons who then
stood indicted in the courts of this State for the perpetration
of this atrocious crime; and that it was not until _after_ your
Excellency had refused to surrender any of the persons so demanded,
and until _after_ said persons, or a portion of them, had committed
other crimes of the most cruel and revolting character, upon
unoffending men and helpless women in this State, that Frank
Phillips and other citizens of Pike County, were guilty of the acts
of violence and bloodshed complained of.

"If Frank Phillips and other citizens of this State have been
guilty of crimes against the laws of West Virginia, however great
their provocation, I quite agree with your Excellency that 'they
should be made examples of judicial determination' and up to this
time there has certainly been no refusal, upon a proper demand,
to surrender them to the authorities of West Virginia for that
purpose. On the other hand, however, your Excellency has, for
months past, steadily failed and refused to surrender any of the
persons who stand charged, by indictment, with the perpetration of
the most atrocious crimes against the laws of this Commonwealth,
although the demand for them is accompanied by every requirement
which your Excellency has indicated that you thought necessary. And
you now indicate that you will not in the future surrender any of
the persons thus demanded until certain citizens of West Virginia,
who you think, are illegally detained in this State, shall be
released from custody and set at liberty.

"With all due respect I fail to see that the 'honor' of your State
will be maintained, or that the 'peace and safety of its people'
will be preserved, by a refusal on your part to surrender persons
charged with the most flagitious crimes against the laws of this
State, simply because certain citizens of this State, acting on
their own motion, and without the knowledge or approval of the
authorities of this State, have, in a violent and unauthorized
way, _done that which it was the duty of your Excellency to have
done_ in the manner required by law; or because I have not felt
authorized to interfere with the administration of justice by one
of the coordinate branches of State Government, by attempting to
release prisoners over whom I had no control whatever. On the
contrary, I respectfully submit that the honor of both States can
be better maintained, and the peace and safety of their respective
citizens can be better preserved, by a prompt rendition of the
persons charged with the perpetration of crime in either State, in
all cases where such rendition is demanded in the manner prescribed
by law" etc.,

For complete correspondence and exhibits filed therewith, see
Documents (Ky.) 1888, No. 1.

Immediately upon the institution of proceedings in the United States Circuit Court for the District of Kentucky, the prisoners captured by Phillips and his men were removed to the Louisville jail pending trial. A great legal battle followed. Kentucky was ably represented by General P. Watt Hardin and former Governor Proctor Knott. The best counsel of West Virginia represented the interests of that State.

Phillips was charged with kidnapping citizens of another State and was taken in charge by the United States marshal. Phillips, on the stand, assumed personal responsibility for all his acts, and exonerated Governor Buckner from any connivance therewith.

The case was argued at length for days. Judge Barr, who presided, decided, in an exhaustive opinion, that the Court had not jurisdiction. The prisoners were therefore returned to the Pike Circuit Court to be tried there for their crimes.

As a matter of retaliation Phillips was indicted in West Virginia with kidnapping citizens of that State without warrant or authority of law. After a long continued legal battle the redoubtable raider, the captor of as dangerous and desperate a lot of men as ever trod American soil, won his fight in the courts as he had won the many battles with the outlaws.

For years afterwards Phillips traveled in West Virginia wherever he desired. Although the Hatfields did their "trading" at Matewan, W. Va., he visited that town frequently and alone, though always well armed. None ever molested him. It is significant, however, that the Hatfields and Phillips were never seen in that town on the same day.

For some time no further arrests were made or attempted to be made with the result that those of the Hatfield clan who had never been arrested, again issued forth from their hiding-places and appeared more boldly. Kentucky officers had long and patiently waited for an opportunity to apprehend Bill Tom Hatfield, for whom there was a large reward. Learning that his partners in crime, Devil Anse and Cap Hatfield, remained at home unmolested, he, too, had returned to the scene of his evil deeds. The officers kept a sharp eye upon him, however, and succeeded in decoying him near the Kentucky line, the scheme being accomplished through a pretended friend of Bill Tom Hatfield. When he reached the spot designated, he was surrounded and disarmed. The officers attempted to cross into Kentucky. But before they could do so, the news of the capture had spread into the Hatfield neighborhood. A strong force rushed to the rescue of the prisoner. Sheriff Keadle of Mingo County, W. Va., being near, summoned a posse and started in pursuit. He prevented a bloody encounter by prevailing upon the Kentuckians to release their prisoner. The Hatfields, of course, accused the McCoys of being at the bottom of this affair, which the latter stoutly denied.

Bill Tom Hatfield was, however, later in the year, again taken and finally convicted for his participation in the murder of the three McCoy brothers.

After the return of the prisoners from Louisville to Pike County a number of the parties were put on trial. Ellison Mounts was sentenced to hang for participation in the murder of Allifair McCoy during that infamous night attack, while Johns Hatfield, Valentine (Val) Hatfield, the "Justice of the Peace of West Virginia," Plyant Mayhorn, and others, were convicted to the State penitentiary at Frankfort, Kentucky, for life.

Val Hatfield set up the remarkable defense that the brothers were killed on the Kentucky side, and that at the time of the _shooting he_ was on the West Virginia side. This was the gist of his appeal to the Court of Appeals of Kentucky. This Court, however, in a very pithy opinion, among other things said, confirming the judgment of the lower court:--

It is not pretended here that the State could enforce its laws
beyond the State boundary, but it is well settled that if either
of the appellants had stood on the West Virginia side and shot
the deceased in Kentucky, the offense would have been against the
laws of Kentucky. (I Bishop on Criminal Law, III.) Regarding the
appellants Mayhorn the Court expressed itself in emphatic language,
when it said:

"The law has been enforced in this case, and in its administration
the appellants (defendants in the lower court) can truly say to the
jury that in inflicting punishment by imprisonment for life 'it has
tempered justice with mercy.'"

The Kentucky Appellate Court affirmed each and every one of the cases appealed.

Ellison Mounts, sentenced to die on the gallows for shooting and killing Allifair McCoy, appealed on the ground that he pleaded _guilty_ to the charge, and having done so he was entitled to a sentence of confinement in the State prison instead of hanging. It was claimed for him that the State, in introducing the wife of Randolph McCoy, so brutally beaten that night of January 1st, 1888, had taken unfair (?) advantage of his condition and that, therefore, the case should be reversed. As in the other cases, the Court of Appeals refused to disturb the judgment of the lower court, maintaining that all the authorities agreed that unless a tacit agreement between the State and defendant had been entered into to reduce the punishment, the State had a right even under the plea of guilty to introduce testimony _illustrating the atrocity of the crime_.

On February 19th, 1890, Ellison Mounts was hanged. For some time previous to the day of execution the sheriff had on duty a guard of from fifty to seventy-five men, armed to the teeth, and in addition had appointed and sworn an additional force of some twenty deputy sheriffs for the special occasion. Repeated reports had come to Sheriff Mayward that the Hatfields of West Virginia would attempt a rescue. In view of what had transpired in the past, the precaution of the Kentucky sheriff was entirely warranted.

On the day of the execution the largest crowd ever brought together in Kentucky on a similar occasion assembled at the little country town of Pikeville, careful and conservative estimates judging the number to have been nearly eight thousand. They came from all directions, on horseback, on foot, in wagons drawn by oxen. They came long before daybreak and from that time on until the time of the execution, after noon, the stream of visitors poured into the town. Little children even were brought along by mothers who had come to see the hanging with an eagerness with which they would have attended a circus. Is it not strange how morbidly curious most of us are? How we jostle each other so as not to lose a glimpse of misery or death? Not strange, after all--the savage of the stone age is not yet eradicated from our natures.

While the crowd collected, an incident marred the generally peaceable behavior of the mass of people. Frank Phillips was "in his cups." With a revolver in each hand he walked the streets of the town, announcing that he had run the Hatfields down and that now he proposed to run the town of Pikeville. Sheriff Mayward remonstrated with Phillips, who showed fight. A number of deputy sheriffs soon disarmed him and the trouble passed without serious casualty. In the scuffle the sheriff had been severely injured. As soon as he recovered from the shock he called the guards and from that time on matters progressed without any other interruption.