| Stories of Kentucky Feuds |
| Guns Bark in Breathitt-part 3 |
| _____ |
 |
 |
| Page 10 side Daniel had to pass Alf Gamble who instantly threw the deadly Ballard rifle, pulled the trigger and Daniel Freeman died in his tracks. The two negros were left to lie where they had fallen, for a new element of excitement had been injected into the situation. Shade Coombs, his brother Buck, Alex, Hargis and Charlie Little rode into the torn town with one or two others who had been gathered in the journey from their last stopping place at Hedges Station. They had a sorry story to tell for those who wanted to hear. " We was cheated by the co'ts down in Lexington," was Charlie Little's announcement. " We went thar to get Cousin Jason en the jedges dun turn him ovah to Hagins." " Damn the co'ts-damn the jedges," sung out Alf Gamble. "Damn 'em all," echoed the Allens. " Give us a drink ," requested the new arrivals. " We'll give you a drink, en then we'll give 'em all hell," John Aykman returned. The brandy , the moonshine and the apple-jack flowed like water for a short while, the mob spirit all the time pulling and straining and ready to break out of leash. Then the word came that Judge Randall had reconvened court. " Let's break up," was the suggestion that was passed about. Then these lawless, drunken men started in the direction of that Temple of Justice. They whooped and hallooed. Throaty, blood-curdling counterparts of the "rebel yell" filled the air. Their mad rush was under way. Those who had not nerves of steel were already departing from the court house. Judge Randall, clerks, deputies, county officers and spectators made a mad rush for the doors and soon this unruly crowd were in full possession. More drink was sent for and all night long they " danced and sang and cut up as though the very devil possessed them." What county records there were, law books, and the like, went into the stove to keep them warm, and on toward morning in their orgies a heater in one of the rooms was kicked over that nearly set fire to the place. Judge Randall took refuge with Daniel B. Hagins, brother of the sheriff, and when the two saw that the unbridled lawlessness would continue on into the following day, they decided that it was time to call upon the governor for assistance. |
| Page 11 A messenger was sought out and a dispatch written to Governor McCreary requesting him to send troops as soon as possible. This man was trusted to hold his tongue, but news had a way of leaking out in such close knit communities. He had scarcely straddled his horse and started over the hills to the nearest telegraph station when word began to be circulated that outside aid was being sought . Then a new phase to the situation had to be taken into account. Soon after sun-up one of the deputies, who had been with the Sheriff Hagins, stole into town bringing the information that this county officer had started from Hedges Station with the prisoner and that he would follow a circuitous route into Jackson. Judge Randall and the others were given over to the opinion that the riotous afternoon and night had been a direct consequence of the feeling that had been stirred up over the sheriff obtaining possession of Jason Little. With this in view they determined to afford the sheriff, his men and their prisoner all the protection that lay within their power. As soon as pleas could be filtered though-for the Gambles, the Allens, the Coombses and the Littles still had possession of the town-men who could be trusted were asked to volunteer to go to meet the sheriff and help him get safely into Jackson. When the request reached Judge Burnett he was one of the first men to answer the call. From various quarters came others until a posse of fifteen responded. The gatherings of these men, with the word that the soldiers had been sent for, caused he first shivers of fear to creep up the spines of the maudlin crew that had put the law to defiance. Some of them slunk off to their mountain homes and played no part in the still more bloody affair that was to follow. As soon as the possemen assembled, with Judge Burnett, Henry Beck and Daniel Hagins and their leaders they started over the route that the sheriff had designated. Ten miles from Jackson the two parties met and soon afterward the march to the county town started. Over the narrow and uneven trails they plodded without interference for a half dozen miles when suddenly they came upon John Aykson and one of the Allen boys, Both of them were lying by the side of the road and were still much worse for liquor. " Where's the soldiers?" Young Allen sung out. |
| Page 12 " You-all 'll need 'em when you git to Jackson-you fellahs are goin' to catch hell when you get to town." Aykman called after them. No move was made by the sheriff or the posseemen to apprehend these two, though all in the party from Jackson full well knew that they had been concerned in the riotous proceedings of the day before. At the outskirts of the town a consulation was held and, on the advice of Judge Burnett, he, with ten men proceeded the sheriff, the others and the prisoner. No move to molest the party was made and a half-past three in the afternoon Jason Little was again safely lodged in the Breathitt Vounth jail, the key turned on him and a general sigh of relief went up from all concerned. It is not to be supposed that the entry of the sheriff's party was greeted with enthusiasm. It was quite to the contrary. Ugly murmurs, whispers that portended violence, could be heard on all sides. Menacing scowls glowered upon the men who were attempting to discharge a duty that they owed to the state and constituted authority. An outbreak had been expected, but it had not come. Was this merely the calm that is supposed to precede the storm? To Daniel Hagins, the sheriff's brother, had been allotted the final turning of the key on the wife-killer in the jail, and the others waited for him to come forth and stood grouped about the door of the small prison. This done, Hagins with his brother, started across the way to the court house while the rest remained undecided whether to disperse or not. They had several suspicious movements. They knew the ways of the mountain men-were they not a part of them? They has seen John Aykman, whom they had left on the mountain trail apparently stupefied with drink, slink up the main street. The 'hell" that had been promised by him had not been forthcoming! When would it break? Close by the jail was an old log house. Word had been passed to Judge Burnett, on his arrival, that back of its solid walls Cap'n Billy Strong had stationed himself and that the old feudist and others had thrown in their lot with the side of law and order. In event of an outbreak, the captain suggested that the sheriff's party make their way where fair protection and plenty of ammunition awaited them. |
| Page 13 And here enters the clash of personalities, the elements of hatred, the deep-dyed desire to inflict injury or death upon those who opposed. The Gambles, the Allens and the Littles had ranged them-selfs on the side of Cap'n Strong's enemies and now came his chance to retaliate. His offer to the sheriff's men was not made, perhaps, with half the desire to be of assistance as it was in the hope that some of those who had supported his old enemies, the Amy's, would " kiss the sod." During Strong's previous experiences with the unruley elements, he had insisted upon a semblance of legal right upon his side from those who had been his adherents. He had even received the sanction of the governor to form a company of " home guards" before the attack had been made upon his home. Those who had sided against membership in this organization held the "guards" as a sort of a joke, so while the group stood about the jail door there were some who twitted the sheriff's men to that effect. Beneath the surface the mob spirit was taking form once more. Aykman, the Allens and the Gambles had cut up their high jinks, but now a new question had been injected. Jason Little was behind the bars. It now was not their fight but one that must be for and by the Littles. And they had their leader. There was Jerry Little who bore over thirty wounds as his scars of feudist's glory. It was of Jerry Little that the story was told of a time when he had been shot down by an enemy, lay prostrate on the ground and a whole load of shot had been emptied into the upper portion of his body; and then, though wracked with pain and torn in many places, he had been able to prop his arm upon a log and shoot his assailant dead. There was Al, Tom, Jack and Charlie Little, all with unenviable reputations for their prowess upon feudal battlegrounds. They now appeared upon the center stage as the principal actors. Hard words were being flung at the men who had stood by the sheriff and the most of these odious epithets were being directed to Judge Burnet. Alfred Little was nearest to Burnet and from a small gallery at the back of John Hargis' storehouse he called out: "You're a fine county judge, Burnet. How can you be a judge and a Home Guard, too?" " I have only done my duty; I acted in the interset of law and order," was his reply. |
| Page 14 " To hell with the law, to hell with order-you're nawthin'mo'er less than one-a Billy Strong's Home Guards." Burnet could guess what this concentrated verbal attack upon him meant. He started to back away toward the public square. Those who were with him saw that the clouds of hatred that had been gathering were about to break. The Littles were drawing closer, the Allens and the Gambles were egging them on. As if by a common impulse the sheriff's men prepared to retreat. Hagins and his brother had reached the court house and those whom they had left behind would now have to act of their own accord. Closing in their ranks they moved in the direction of the log house where Cap'n Strong had stationed himself. " Look out, Burnet, they're going to shoot you." Above the angry murmurs of the men in the Little party this warning rose. Those who played a part in the events of the day said that it was Frank Coombs who called out the warning to the county judge. " Well, boys, if we have to fight, let's have it out," was the defiant words upon Burnet"s lips. A dozen rifles belched forth their deadly flame. Whose bullet it was that laid the judge low never was fully determined, but later testimony pointed to two who were ready for such action. When Alfred Little had hurled his accusation at the county judge he was standing on a small porch to the rear of the Hargis store. Behind him was Alfred Gamble. As the men in the sheriff's party started for the log house, Al Gamble calmly placed his rifle upon the shoulder of Little so that he would have free and steady aim. The sights of the rifle from that period of preparation never left a vital spot of the volley that was aimed at Burnet. The judge was within a few steps of the log house when he fell. His companions, to a man, reached that place of safety. No one dared to venture to his assistance and he laid there while his life's blood ebbed away. The actual combatants now were about equally divided. There were about forty men to each side. All of them were dead shots. To be seen or to expose one's self to one side or the other meant a sudden departure from this earth, at worst; or, being wounded at the least. With Sheriff Hagins in the court house were a dozen or more |