| Stories of Kentucky Feuds |
| Plucked Out-Root and Branch Part-3 |
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| (Page-9) his language good and his clothes always neat and wen fitting. Placed in different environment and with the advantages of education he would have been a man of distinction and influence." Immediately following the withdrawal of the soldiers (for they captured no one and' confiscated no arms other than a few wornout derringers), Jesse called upon his brother William, from Rowan County, and they brought about an agreement between the factions to abstain from any further acts of hostility. When both sides assented and calm was restored, Jesse, fully satisfied that he had fulfilled a duty and moral obligation, packed his few chattels, his wife and his children into two wagons, and with the belongings his father gave him, he said his last good-byes and headed his meagre train for the West and the new home he hoped to carve out there. Over the dirt roads and the hilly pikes the wagons creaked and rumbled, with the few head of stock plodding along behind. Three or four days had passed when his wife, who was riding in the hinder wagon, called out: "Jesse, we are being followed:' "Where? What do you mean?" "Look back over that last rise-thar's a posse of riders comin' after us!" "They can't be for us:' "Look, every one of them are lickin' their horses. They're after someone." The fact that Jesse had long since left the confines of Carter and now was in Lewis County gave him assurance. He made no effort to move his wagons at a faster pace. The horsemen now had reached hailing distance. One riding to the front called out for the wagons to halt. "What do you want?" Jesse's wife called back to him. "We are after Jesse Underwood-we want to arrest him:' Hearing this the hunted man slipped off his driver's seat and made a dash for some brush at the side of the road. Crack! spoke a rifle and Jesse felt the sting of the bullet as it plowed into the fleshy part of his arm. He raised the rifle he had taken with him, sighted it at the man who had fired upon him, pulled the trigger and this rider catapulted from his saddle and fen by the side of the road, dead. N ow the others trained their rifles on him and one bullet broke (Page-10) |
| his other arm, wounding him so that he could fight no more, so, disabled, he surrendered. The horsemen were led by Sheriff Worder of Carter County, and his possemen took charge of. the wagons, placing Jesse in one under guard, and he with his family were driven back to Grayson. The posseman who was killed was named Ruggles, and his body was placed in the other conveyance. When the train arrived in the county town Jesse Underwood was charged with the killing of the sheriff's deputy. Long weeks passed, and when his wounds had healed Jesse was arraigned before the court. It was shown that he had been fired upon first; that the sheriff had no warrant for his arrest, so his acquittal was a mere matter of form. But those who had sent Sheriff Worder on his dangerous errand were not to be balked of their prey. A bench warrant for the killing of young Trumbo in Bath, ten years before, was produced and Jesse was re-arrested. Public sentiment in Carter County now swung to the side of the persecuted man, so he was removed to the jail at Lexington for safe keeping. There he remained for some time until it was decided to try him at Owingsville, to which place he was taken when the court there convened. The days of litigation there drifted along until one evening Jesse found the rear door of his prison standing conveniently ajar and no one to say "nay" to him, so he walked out and a few days later was back among the familiar hills of his home county. For many months he led a harried existence. His family had become a part of the population of Fort Underwood and were cared for by his father, but Jesse was afraid to work in the fields for fear of being arrested or shot from ambush. When the weather permitted he hunted foxes, taking their scalps to Morehead in Rowan County, where he received state bounty for them, and this small return he turned into requisites and neces. sities for his family. He no longer stirred without his rifle. He kept it always ready for instant action with his finger on the hammer and this at half. cock. Those persons whom he met on the road or in town had to keep in front of him; he would maneuver his horse to this end, keeping watch of every hand and the glance of every eye. (Page-11) |
| Those who knew him and enjoyed his confidence were aware of his determination to sell his life dearly and his declaration that he never would be retaken alive. One there was who left behind, at that time, his own appraisal of this puzzling personality. This is what he wrote: "During the war, just after their raid on Maysville, I denounced the Underwoods in no uncertain terms, a fact which they knew and did not relish, and I confess to a feeling of nervousness when I saw Jesse's tall form come striding toward me with the everpresent rifle in his grasp--but he was pleasant and courteous and willing to be at peace with the world. "He told me: 'I've been on the dodge for nearly twelve years because of a matter that should not have brought any worry if I had been somebody else than an Underwood.' He was willing to discuss the killing of young Trumbo but had a naive way of avoiding any incriminating admissions. .. 'The Halbrooks,' he told me, 'have been at the bottom of all our misfortune. It is they who have hounded me and my kinfolk. Why only last week I met Squire Halbrook on the public road, alone and unarmed, and I could have shot him on the spot, but I respect our truce. I wouldn't fire on him. .. 'More than fifty times I have been within easy rifle shot of his son, but I've never lifted a finger against him. All I want is to be left alone, but if they urge the law on me, then look out. I am willing to surrender and to stand trial, but I don't propose to rot in jail when I should have the right of bail-and that is just what they have tried to do with me. I will avoid the officers as long as I can for I do not wish to shed unnecessary blood. " So much for the words attributed to Jesse Underwood. He did not know that events were quickening to a grand climax. Elvin Underwood had long since parted company with John Martin and had returned to his farm. He, too, respected the agreement for the cessation of hostilities, and the thought that his enemies would rise up and smite him was the farthest from his mind. One day, as he was plowing is his field, little dreaming that several assassins were glaring at him from ambush, he was riddled with a hail of bullets in the presence of his young daughters who were dropping corn as he turned the furrows. (Page-12) |
| The children helped him to the house where he collapsed and died as he was crossing his doorsill, and once again the countryside thrilled with the news that the "Underwood War" had been reopened. Two months passed with casual shootings that resulted in the wounding of several of the adherents of both sides. This was merely the simmering of violence in the making. Then George Lewis Underwood (who was shot with his father at the outbreak of the feud), after lingering for many months in the most horrible agony from his wounds, was called to his Maker. That was the breaking point. One week of tense calm, a grim period in which all martial clangor was restrained, and then Carter County rocked with the word that "Squire" Halbrook had been shot dead in his own yard. No one saw the concealed foe. No witness could even recall of having seen anyone in the vicinity. Certainly no band had at. tacked him for only one bullet had been fired, but it sped true to its mortal mark. It was generally conceded, however, that the spirit of the "Squire" winged its flight while Jesse Underwood was looking along the sights of his rifle. The feud fever was now reaching its hectic stage; "an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" was the exaction that it called for. Now the enemies of the family dipped down into Rowan County for a victim. One night as William Underwood was seated at supper, in the presence of his family, the window pane crashed and slivered. Two ugly gun muzzles were thrust through the opening made. Two shots rang out and another Underwood was added to the growing list of the dead. It was after the last sad rites were said in the little cemetery near Morehead one rainy Sunday late in September, 1879, that friends embraced the opportunity to urge upon Old George, the head of the clan, and upon Jesse the necessity of getting out of the state. "The Halbrooks and the Stampers have sworn," they were told, "that they will wipe you out-root and branch-that there will be none of you left in Kentucky." The old man was deeply agitated; he shook with scorn and anger, certainly not with fear. "That is possibly true, and what is urged is sensible, but the bones of my three wives lie buried on my land, eight sons and two daughters were born to me there. The land is poor but it is (Page-13) |
| mine. A man does not like to be driven, like a dog, from his own home. "I have wronged no one-I've harmed no one, and all that can be urged against me is that I have refused to turn against my own flesh and blood." Jesse explained the cause of his continuing on amid such scenes of strife in another way. "I have no money to leave and no means of taking my family away, and go without them I will not. Beside the indictment against me for killing young Trumbo still stands. If I could only get rid of that I'd lead a new life.” Even while this conference was in progress elaborate plans were being made for a finish to the war on the Underwoods. The Halbrooks and the Stampers, their relatives and the kindred spirits who sided with them, had declared for a campaign of extermination that was not to cease until Fort Underwood became a memory, and any or all who bore the hated name would forever be cast out of the neighborhood and bereft of any desire to ever return. Just one week after this, to be exact, on October 9th, Old George Underwood ventured outside the back door of his home to bring in a Jog of firewood. He had his burden in his arms, a sure sign that he would be unable to defend himself, when hidden riflemen fired upon him. The concealed, as well as the hired, assassin figures large in many of the Kentucky feuds. Some justified the deadly part that they played by some mitigating circumstance. In this instance the neighbors of the Underwoods simply resolved to remove them, and the killing of two of the old man's sons from ambush was thought to be in accordance with the feudists' code. The head of the clan knew full well what danger there was in venturing out of doors with the familiar trees and rocks hiding his enemies in front of his home and his castle, and yet Old George wondered at their temerity in bringing the fight to his own door- step. The first volley from the hidden foe broke his shoulder blade. The second. wounded him in the legs. Thus crippled, however, did not mean that his indomitable spirit had been crushed. He was able to get indoors before the third round of shots was fired. Rude surgery, at the hands of his women folk, was the first aid that was given to him. They did not dare to send for a doctor |