Appalachian History

Part 2 of 2 ---

“I guess in all he [Bob Catlett] must have come to me some twelve or fifteen different times and I at last consented to kill the Whaleys for him, for which he agreed to pay me fifty dollars, and if I got into any trouble over it he was to pay my attorney's fees and keep me out of jail by making bond for me.

“On one occasion I told Catlett I had spoken to Pleas Wynn to go with me and that he had agreed to go. He asked me if I thought Pleas would be all right and I told him I did. It was agreed that Catlett should go south with some stock and that the Whaleys should be killed while he was gone in order that he might not be suspicioned.

“Catlett went through Sevierville on Monday morning the 28th of December 1896 with some horses and as he was going out of Sevierville near the upper end of town and about opposite the Southern Methodist church I met him and helped him straighten out one of his horses. While there he said to me, 'Be certain and attend to that job tonight!'

J.C. "Catlett" Tipton, from 'The White-Caps: A History of the Organization in Sevier County.'

“Jim Catlett, a brother of Bob, told me that evening that Bob had left the money with him to pay for killing the Whaleys whenever the work was done, and that he Jim would pay the money. This talk was had in the presence of Pleas Wynn near the old jail place in Sevierville.

“That night the 28th of December 1896, Pleas Wynn and I by agreement met at Ben Bailey's in Sevierville, and about dark we left there, going first to Bailey's shop near the bank of the west fork of the Pigeon River.

“There I got my shot gun out of my tool chest together with some cartridges. Leaving the shop, we went down the bank of said river to the point or junction of the two rivers, and crossing the bridge over the east fork of the river, we proceeded down the bank of said river on the north side to the Capt Wynn farm.

“When we got even with the Whaley house, we left the river and went up the hollow to where the Whaleys lived. We stopped a short distance from the house. We saw a light in the house and heard some one talking within. Wynn as I now remember made a noise by coughing, and a man who I suppose was John Whaley, came out with a light and did some fixing about the crib door.

“He returned to the house and in a short time left. Wynn and I then masked ourselves heavily and proceeded to the house, where the door was bursted open, and we entered the house. I had my shot gun and Wynn had a pistol. I there killed both Whaley and his wife by shooting them in the head. I never spoke to anyone after I entered the house, nor did either William or Laura Whaley speak after they were shot, to my knowledge.

“I reloaded my gun and then Wynn and I returned to Sevierville. We did not return as we went, but took a nearer route across the ridges, coming into the road near where the Andes boys live, just below Sevierville. I took my gun back to the shop and put it in the tool chest and got some dynamite I had there and met Pleas Wynn near the Mitchell corner in town.

Pleasant "Pleas" Wynn, from 'The White-Caps: A History of the Organization in Sevier County.'

“He said he had been to Otis Montgomery's. From there we went to Mark McCowan's, a half mile below town, called him out, talked to him awhile, and asked him to go fishing with us, but he declined, saying his folks were sick. We got his canoe and went down the river a short distance and dropped two sticks of dynamite in the river. The result was we got six fish: one salmon and five suckers. We took the canoe back to the bank and left it where McCowan told us to. Before leaving the canoe we there burned our masks.

“We then went on to Sevierville where we divided the fish, he taking the five suckers and I the salmon. I went to Ben Bailey's, where I boarded, and went to bed and I suppose Wynn went home.

“I was barely acquainted with Wm Whaley; knew him when I saw him. I never saw Laura Whaley until the night she was killed. I never had had any trouble with either one of them and had no ill will or malice toward them. Jim Catlett came to Sevierville the next day after the Whaleys were killed and paid me the fifty dollars according to agreement, and on the following day I think it was I gave Pleas Wynn half of it.

“When I gave the package of money to JR Yett to deposit in his safe for me Wm Marshall and Miller Yett were present and when I took it away George Nichols and one or two others were present. I never deposited money or anything else with JR Yett & Co at any other time to my recollection.”


Sources: The White-Caps: A History of the Organization in Sevier County, by Ethelred W. Crozier, publ by Bean, Warters & Gaut, Knoxville, 1899
http://dlc.lib.utk.edu/f/fa/fulltext/2513.html

Part 1 of 2 ---

The White Caps of Sevier County, TN, were a vigilante group formed in approximately 1892 by citizens who wished to rid Sevier County of individuals (mostly women) whom they deemed lewd or adulterous.

Their modus operandi was to leave the offending party a note signed "White Caps," occasionally accompanied by hickory switches, warning them to leave town. If this tactic proved ineffective, the group escalated to whippings.

The White Caps were extremely popular between 1892 and 1896 and thus hard to control legally. Local law enforcement turned a blind eye to their doings and even when arrested White Caps would frequently tamper with juries to ensure their acquittal. In this atmosphere of tolerance, the beatings gradually increased in severity.

But then in December of 1896 the White Caps brutally murdered Laura and William Whaley in front of their infant child. The Whaleys were generally considered poor but honest citizens of Sevier County, and their savage deaths turned public opinion against the White Caps. J.C. “Catlett” Tipton and Pleasant “Pleas” Wynn were convicted of the Whaley murders, and hung on July 5, 1899, at Sevierville. Here is Tipton’s confession from his trial transcript:

“I was born and raised in Sevier county; am about 38 years old. In December 1896 I was living about two miles from Sevierville, but was at that time staying with Ben Bailey, my brother in law, and working in the blacksmith shop with him.

“I know the defendant Bob Catlett and have known him pretty much all my life. On the Saturday evening that the November term of the circuit court adjourned, Bob Catlett came to me and said he wanted to have a talk with me. We went into Fred Emert's store and upstairs into a back room. He there told me that William Whaley and wife had gone before the grand jury at that term of court and had indicted him and Bob Wade, his brother in law, for shooting into Walter Maples house.

“He said he wanted them put out of the way and would give one hundred dollars to kill them; that he wanted to make an example of them to teach people that they could not swear against him. I told him I did not want to do it and would not do it. This was about all that occurred there, and we went out of the store. Bob Wade was present during this conversation.

“There was a meeting of an Odd Fellows lodge that Saturday night at Pigeon Forge, about eight miles above Sevierville. Wm Wynn, Jesse Atchley and I went to it; leaving Sevierville that evening I went in a buggy with Wm Wynn, I think.

“Some time after the lodge had been in session Bob Catlett and Bob Wade came in. That is the first time I ever knew Catlett or Wade in that lodge and have never seen them there since. It was about fourteen miles from there to where Catlett lived. As we were returning from the lodge that night, I stopped on the road near Henderson's Island at a turnip patch and got some turnips and distributed them among the crowd. There were several along including Bob Catlett, Bob Wade, Arthur Seaton, Schuyler Atchley, Jesse Atchley and Wm Wynn.

“Wade and Catlett were riding horse back and when ready to leave the turnip patch Bob Catlett suggested to Wade that he take my seat in the buggy, and for me to get on Wade's horse, as he wanted to talk with me.

“This change was accordingly made and I rode from there to Rambo's Lane, about three miles, with Bob Catlett. On this trip he again brought up the subject of the Whaleys and renewed his proposition to me to put them out of the way for him. I told him I did not want to do it, but before leaving me near the Rambo Lane, he handed me an envelope and said for me to take it and that it was mine when the Whaleys were put out of the way. I took the package and went on home alone from that point.

“I examined the contents of the envelope and found it consisted of four twenty dollar bills and one twenty dollar gold piece. I kept the money until the next Wednesday evening and then I took it to Yett's store in Sevierville, and gave it to JR Yett, and told him to put it in his safe for me a short time.

“I let it stay there until Friday following when I got it and gave it back to Bob Catlett, saying to him at the time that I had decided not to do the job and returned his money. Catlett replied that he was glad of it for he could get it done for one half of that amount. It was not long however until Catlett returned to me again and began to beg me to comply with his wishes by putting the Whaleys out of the way.

End of Part 1

Sources: The White-Caps: A History of the Organization in Sevier County, by Ethelred W. Crozier, publ by Bean, Warters & Gaut, Knoxville, 1899
http://dlc.lib.utk.edu/f/fa/fulltext/2513.html

The following was brought by my father's first cousin, Roy Hodges, to the family gathering following my uncle's funeral in 1985. It was handwritten, and in pencil. James Pinkney Pittman (1855-1946) was the grandfather of my father, Victor Randolph Pittman, Jr.

The handwritten text ended in mid-sentence on the last page of the steno pad. Obviously, there is or was at least one more steno pad like it that has been lost.

Judging from the markings on the pad, it appears to have been written some time in the late 1920s or early 1930s. I have endeavored to preserve the original misspellings. No doubt, I have added a few of my own.

---Victor Darrell Pittman, James Pinkney's great-grandson, June 1997



"I got into truble. I went hunting with two men, one was midal eag, the other was young. The young man got killed out in the woods and the other man told evry body that I killed him. Well, I was arested, tryed and put under a ten thousand dollar bond untill the grand jury met. The county seat was Ashville Ala. I did not know a sole in the town. I ask the Sharif what he was going to do with me. I dident want to be put in jale. "Can you make a bond?" "I can try."

"It w now getting dark when w come down out of the court house. Seemed I had the simpthy of older men. Went into a large store. The croud of men folowed us in. I ask the propreator if he would go on a tempry bond untill I could make bond, but when he found out how much the bond was he shook his head. One man in the crowed said he would, then another. So there was a lot of them went on the bond, a temporary bound. I gave my bond to a frend of mine from Springville to see if he could make bond in Springville for me. I wated sevrel days. So I ask the men that signed my bond if tha wood let me go to Springville and try to make my bond, that if I couldent make bond I wood come back. They told me to go.

St. Clair Courthouse, Ashville, AL

"Now there was a Mr. Wood and Miss Vick that was sumoned as witnesses at the trile. Mr. Wood had been going with Miss Vick and wanted her to mary him. So he told her that they w send me to the pen or hang him so she told him that wouldent do him no good, that she would mary me before I went. You see hur friend tryed to keep hur from maring me because I drink a little two much, but that dident do any good.

"Well, back to the bond. I made the bond and sent it in. My friends in Springville went to work on the case. They corned the man that acused me out where the young man was killed and ask him where he was standing when the young man was killed. He showed them & thay traced the shot came from on the undergroth that killed the man. So he got scared and run away. So whe the grand jury met, he was not there to appear against me. So my case w throon out of court and I was clared. You see, he was the onley wittnes. God knows I dident kill him. It was all done axedently."

Full memoir at: The Memoirs of James Pinkney Pittman

On January 23, 1897, Elva Zona Heaster Shue of Lewisburg WV, a bride of three months, was found dead at the bottom of the stairs leading to the second floor of the log house where she lived with her new husband. Her body was discovered by a neighbor, a boy of about 11 years, who did chores for her. Her case remains to this day a one of a kind event in the American judicial system ... the only case in which the word of a ghost helped to solve a crime and convict a murderer!

A state highway marker several miles west of town sums up Shue’s amazing story: "Interred in a nearby cemetery is Zona Heaster Shue. Her death in 1897 was presumed natural until her spirit appeared to her mother to describe how she was killed by her husband Edward. Autopsy on the exhumed body verified the apparition's account. Edward, found guilty of murder, was sentenced to state prison."

Upon finding the dead woman, Andy Jones, the neighbor boy, ran back to his home where he informed his mother, and then continued on to the blacksmith shop where Edward S. Shue was working. When told of the situation Shue appeared in great anguish, ran to his home, gathered his dead wife into his arms, and directed local doctor and coroner, Dr. George W. Knapp, be called. All during this time Shue held Zona’s head in his arms. After a brief examination, Dr. Knapp concluded that Zona "died of an everlasting faint," i.e. a heart attack.

The body was prepared for burial with Shue assisting in the preparation of her body for burial, and placing her in the casket, always handling her head. He placed a folded sheet on one side of her head and an article of clothing on the other side of her head, which he said would make her rest easier. In addition, he tied a large scarf around her neck and explained tearfully that it "had been Zona’s favorite."

Zona was taken to the home of her mother, Mrs. Mary Jane Heaster, on nearby Big Sewell Mountain. When the casket was opened Shue always remained at the head of the casket. The next day her body was buried in the little cemetery on the hill top. Nothing more was thought of the death other than that usual for a sudden death of anyone.

Within a month of the burial, however, the dead girl's mother was telling neighbors that Zona's spirit had appeared four nights in a row to accuse the blacksmith of her violent death - to "tell on him" - to set the record straight about her dying. Shue had been abusive and cruel, she said, and had attacked her in a fit of rage, savagely breaking her neck. Word spread quickly that these visions had convinced Mary Jane that the husband - who called himself Edward, but was really named Erasmus Stribbling Trout Shue, and was known as ‘Trout’ - had killed her daughter.

Mary Heaster and her brother-in-law Johnson Heaster went to Lewisburg prosecutor John A. Preston, who first disbelieved the story, but after several hours of questioning Mrs. Heaster became convinced that there was a basis for an investigation.

Dr. Knapp was consulted and he agreed that he might have been mistaken in his diagnosis. An investigation into Shue’s background revealed that he had served a term in the penitentiary and had been married twice previously, and both wives had died under strange circumstances. One wife was supposed to have died from a broken neck when she fell from a haystack. The other wife died while helping Shue to repair a chimney. He was on top the chimney and his wife was placing the rocks in a basket with a rope attached to it and as the basket was drawn up the basket turned and dropped the rock on the head of his wife.

An exhumation was ordered and an inquest jury was assembled. The Greenbrier Independent reported that Trout Shue "vigorously complained" about the exhumation but it was made clear to him that he would be forced to attend the inquest if he did not go willingly. In rebuttal he replied that he knew that he would be arrested, "but they will not be able to prove I did it." This careless statement indicated that he at least had knowledge that his life had been murdered.

The autopsy findings were quite damning to Shue. An Independent report on March 9 said that "the discovery was made that the neck was broken and the windpipe mashed. On the throat were the marks of fingers indicating that she had been choken [sic]..... the neck was dislocated between the first and second vertebrae. The ligaments were torn and ruptured. The windpipe had been crushed at a point in front of the neck."

The findings were made public at once, upsetting many in the community. Shue was arrested, charged with murder, and taken to the jail at Lewisburg where he was held until his indictment by a Grand Jury and the trial in June.

On June 22, 1897 the jury returned a verdict of guilty after only one hour and ten minutes of deliberation. The accounts in the Independent make clear that Shue was convicted of the murder of his third wife on circumstantial evidence, and not because of a "ghost's testimony." He was sentenced to life in the state prison. Following a foiled lynching attempt a few days later, he was taken by train to the state prison in Moundsville, where he died on the first of March, 1900.


Sources: www.prairieghosts.com/shue.html
www.wvculture.org/HiStory/notewv/ghost1.html
www.wonderfulwv.com/archives/sept99/fea2.cfm


Greenbrier+ghost Zona+Heaster+Shue Trout+Shue appalachian+justice appalachia appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history West+Virginia+history Lewisburg+WV

"The administration of justice in the isolated areas still surprises the visitor with its differences from the ways of the town. Despite a few modern touches, a cuspidor or two missing, or the presence of some young lawyers fresh from the state university, a mountain trial is in spirit much the same as when I first visited the Cumberlands thirty years ago, and court was opened with an old fiddler's contest. A court session is still the great event of the year.

"It is the informality, like so many other phases of mountain life, which instantly charms the visitor.

"I was in a mountain court one afternoon, sitting on the bench with the judge as he prepared to swear in the annual Grand Jury.

"The jurist turned to the tobacco-munching farmers arranged solemnly before him on a double row of chairs. 'Before I swear you in, I want to ask you,' he said. 'Is there anybody sitting here that's under indictment for anything? I don't want nobody on my jury that's under indictment.'

"There was a long silence. Than on the back row a lanky farmer arose, and shifted uneasily. 'Guess they got me up in federal court over at Maysville for moonshining, Judge.'

The judge shook his head in regret. 'You got to get off the Grand Jury, then, Jeff. I ain't going to have nobody on my jury that's under indictment.'

County Judge Boyd Boggs, 1942, Lawrence County, KY.

"One of the most popular figures in the hills today is known as Judge Honey, a philosopher always more concerned with the right and wrong of a case than with the harsh technicality of the law. Whoever it may be that appears before him for sentence, whether solemn old man or impudent young woman, the judge always addresses the prisoner as 'honey.'

'Honey, I hate to do this to you,' he declares. 'But I've got to sentence you to sixty days, honey.' It seems to make the punishment easier to bear.

"A mountain jail has the same homey quality. The jailer has been a neighbor and often a friend of most of his charges; the usual grimness of a prison is altogether lacking. In one mountain town the county jailer, a most amiable soul, took my wife and myself on a tour, carefully introducing us to each of his forty-seven prisoners. We shook hands with them all, including two held for murder.

"So easygoing is the administration of justice, I have more than once heard a sheriff ask a mountaineer from some distant creek to inform a neighbor that he was under arrest and tell him to be sure to come to jail as soon as possible. And he could be certain the arrested man would obey, just as surely as if the sheriff went to his cabin and himself applied a pair of handcuffs.

"The mountaineer has great reverence for his own local authorities. He has none for laws made by people he has never seen in far-off Washington."


Children of Noah: Glimpses of Unknown America
By Ben Lucien Burman
Publ. by Julian Messner, Inc. 1951


appalachian+justice appalachia +appalachian+history appalachian+mountains+history Cumberland Ben+Lucien+Burman