The plot thickenes with KKK and various elements. (and Williamson County,
Illinois is not all that far from Harlan County, Kentucky and the conflicts
were (and are) related.
"Bloody Williamson County" is the home of what is believed to be the
incident in which the largest number in American history of strike breakers
being killed by union strikers - the so called Herrin Massacre. - again
largely forgotten in history.
What does it all mean" - It is complex - but just maybe we need to read and
remember many elements in the history of conflicts in American history. And
many elements were left out of both the earlier article on Harlan County and of
Williamson County, Illinois.
Jim "The history of class and race conflict in America did not begin with
the '60's." D.
-----------------------------------
Bloody Williamson County, Illinois
A Chapter In Americna Lawlessness
Williamson County in southern Illinois is well-known by historians and crime
enthusiasts as "Bloody Williamson"... a dark (and most likely not appreciated)
nickname that came about in the 1920's after being the scene of a bloody
massacre, brutal battles with the Klan, and a fantastic Prohibition war between
battling bootleggers. Regardless of how you look at it, the moniker of "Bloody"
is something that Williamson County has earned!
THE BLOODY VENDETTA
Long before Prohibition and labor problems, death came calling in Williamson
County. Like most of southern Illinois, this region was settled by immigrants
from the south, most especially the mountain regions of Kentucky, Tennessee and
North Carolina. They brought with them their tradition, superstitions,
hot-blooded pride and family honor. In his book, BLOODY WILLIAMSON, Paul M.
Angle points out that many of these settlers were quick to resent an insult and
given what they considered provocation, they would kill with little
compunction. He wrote that Milo Erwin, the first historian of the county,
counted 495 assaults with a deadly weapon and 285 murderous assaults between
1839 and 1876. He also listed 50 murders that had taken place but out of all of
those, only 6 people had ever been convicted or served prison time. Williamson
County was a rough, and sometimes lawless, place.
It would not be until the "Bloody Vendetta" though that murder would become
an art form. It began as merely a tavern brawl on July 4, 1868. Several members
of the Bulliner family were playing cards in a saloon with a man named
Henderson. He made the mistake of calling one of the Bulliners a "damn lying
son of a bitch" and in the fight that followed, Henderson was badly beaten.
After that, the two families became bitter enemies and soon involved other
families in the feud, including the Sisneys, the Russells and the Crains.
Between 1868 and 1876, the families fought out the Vendetta in the barnyards,
bars and streets of Williamson County.
The Sisneys entered the Vendetta a year after the first troubles began
between the Bulliners and the Hendersons. Sisney won a lawsuit against a
Bulliner man over a crop of oats. Later, during a meeting to settle the affair
Bullinger accused Sisney of lying. A fight started and soon other Bulliners
were attacking the Sisney house with weapons. Sisney ran into a nearby field
and although hit four times by bullets, managing to hold off the Bulliners from
the cover of a large tree. The Sisneys were now involved in the feud on the
side of the Hendersons.... there was no way to stay out of it.
Two years later, the Crains came into the Vendetta after a fight with several
of the Sisneys at the general store in Carterville and Tom Russell also got
involved. The battles continued for years and a dozen men were either killed or
wounded in the fighting.
The most unlucky of the fighters was George Sisney. After the unsuccessful
attack on his home, he moved to Carbondale to get clear of the battle. However,
a short time later, he was badly hurt by a shotgun blast through his living
room window. He managed to recover, then less than a year later, was killed by
another shotgun blast.
Finally, in 1876, Marshall Crain was tried and hanged for murder and the feud
died out. After seven years of reluctance on the part of the authorities to do
anything about the violence, Crain was hanged and three others, John Bulliner,
Allen Baker and Samuel Music were imprisoned.
THE HERRIN MASSACRE
On a hot June day in 1922, the event that would give Williamson County its
permanent nickname would take place. What became known as the "Herrin Massacre"
would gain national attention and outrage and would forever leave a scar on the
region.
The small town of Herrin is located in the heart of what was once considered
"coal country". Here, rich veins of coal were discovered in the late 1800's and
for a time, became the chief source of wealth and industry in southern
Illinois, overshadowing the farms that once dominated the economy.
However, conditions for the workers were less than adequate. In BLOODY
WILLIAMSON, Paul M. Angle states that the life and health of the employees were
of little concern to the mine owners. Men worked in water up to their knees, in
gas filled rooms, and in unventilated mines where the air was filthy and filled
with toxins. There was no compensation for accidents (which frequently
occurred) and the average daily wage was from $1.25 to $2.
Then, around 1900, the mine workers began to organize and they formed unions
to combat the low pay and horrible conditions. New laws were implemented and
wages grew to $7 and $15 for a day's work. Standards of living finally began to
rise and small towns like Herrin began to prosper.
However, none of this came easy and their were many struggles between the
miner's unions and the mine companies, who were only interested in profits.
Many of the struggles resulted in strikes, violence and even death before the
mine unions were recognized. The area around Herrin was not immune to these
troubles either. In 1910, an attempt by a mine owner in Zeigler to maintain a
non-union mine was met with bloodshed and he failed.
By the 1920's, the miner's unions were secure in southern Illinois and at
this same time, the method of "strip mining" also came into practice. Here,
large shovels and drag lines were used to strip the earth above coal beds that
were close to the surface. In September 1921, William Lester (of the Southern
Illinois Coal Company) opened a new strip mine about halfway between Herrin and
Marion. The mine employed 50 workers, all members of the United Mine Workers of
America.
Then came trouble.....
On April 1, 1922, the United Mine Workers went on a strike across the
country, ceasing all coal mining operations. Lester, who was deeply in debt
with his new operation, was in fear of losing his company, so he negotiated
with the local union and they agreed to let him continue taking coal from the
ground, as long as he did not try to ship it out. Whit this stockpile in place,
Lester could ship the coal as soon as the strike ended.
By June, the union workers had dredged almost 60,000 tons of coal. The price
for the product had risen considerably, thanks to the strike, and the chance
for high profit was a temptation too great for Lester to withstand. At that
point, he fired all of his union miners and hired 50 strike breakers and mine
guards from Chicago. On June 16, he shipped out 16 railroad cars of coal,
effectively breaking the arrangement he had made at the start of the strike.
Word soon got out about what Lester was doing and soon officials from the
United Mine Workers Unions, from the National Guard and from the Illinois State
government tried to convince him to stop. Local miners were outraged and began
to rally. They knew that if Lester got away with what he was attempting to do,
other mine owners would also do it. If this happen, everything the union had
fought for would be lost.
In the days that followed, many tried to reason with Lester, but he refused
to listen. He was contacted repeatedly by Colonel Samuel Hunter of the Illinois
National Guard, who warned him that the situation he was causing could be very
dangerous. Lester ignored him, as did the local sheriff. Hunter advised him to
deputize additional men in case of problems, but ignored the warnings.
Rumbling also continued among the local miners. On June 21, a truck carrying
11 armed guards and strike breakers was ambushed east of Carbondale. The driver
was killed and a number of others were wounded.
Later that same day, several hundred miners gathered at the Herrin Cemetery,
followed by looting in the local hardware stores. The mob took all of the
firearms and ammunition they could find and then moved out to the mine site.
There were no law enforcement officials present at the time!
Later that afternoon, Colonel Hunter received a call from the mine
superintendent. He explained that the mine had been surrounded and shots were
being fired. The sheriff could not be located and he begged that Hunter send
troops. Soon, National Guardsmen were dispatched with orders to stop the attack
and to try and disperse the miners. The National Guard never arrived, having
been called off by Hunter after the miners and the operators reached a
tentative truce... a truce that would soon be broken.
By evening, more union supporters arrived at the mine. Colonel Hunter,
worried over the situation, tried to call the mine but he found the phone lines
were dead. Strangely, in spite of the fact that the local sheriff could still
not be reached, the troops were still not sent out.
The terms of the truce called for the strike breakers to be safely escorted
out of the county and late that evening (June 21) the local sheriff reluctantly
agreed to see if the truce was still holding. Then, he decided that he was
tired and could wait until morning. He agreed to meet Colonel Hunter and Major
Davis of the Carbondale Guard unit the following day.
Meanwhile, Hugh Willis, the spokesman for the United Mine Workers union in
the area, arrived in Herrin and addressed the local supporters. His take on the
situation was that the strike breakers have never come to Herrin and whatever
happened to them.... well, they had it coming. Needless to say, things were not
going well.
Throughout the night, miners began destroying the equipment and machinery
around the mine itself, using dynamite, shovels and hammers. Finally, after
being begged by the strike breakers inside, the superintendent agreed to
surrender. He told the assembled miners that they would all come out... as long
as they could leave the county unharmed. The miners agreed and the men inside
cautiously emerged from the mine.
They lined up and the union miners began marching them toward Herrin. They
began walking, stopping once when they were approached by an armed procession
who threatened to kill the strike breakers. Cooler heads apparently prevailed
and the procession continued on. A short distance later, at Moake Crossing, the
procession stopped again and a car drove up. A man got out who the surviving
strike breakers later recalled was referred to as "Hugh Willis". According to
accounts, of the survivors, he told the miners not to kill the captives on the
public road, instead, he said "take them over to the woods and give it to them.
Kill all you can."
The prisoners were then marched to the woods, near a barbed wire fence. Shots
began to ring out and the strike breakers ran.... some of them never even made
it to the fence. Others scrambled up and over it, or became terrifyingly
trapped in the wire, then blasted apart with bullets. The strike breakers,
unfamiliar with the area, plunged into the woods or ran towards Herrin. The
miners tracked them through the woods and continued to slay them, one by one.
One group that was captured was marched to Herrin Cemetery, only to be
slaughtered there in front of a crowd that contained both women and children.
One miner ended the massacre by going from one wounded man to another and
cutting the throats of those who remained alive. It was a scene of unbelievable
horror.
During all of it, the sheriff was noticeably absent. When he failed to meet
Colonel Hunter and Major Davis, they went looking for him. The three men soon
arrived at the mine to find the operation was in flames. They were able to
follow the footsteps of the mob and found a trail of bodies left behind. Those
who had not died were taken to Herrin Hospital but at least 20 of the strike
breakers died in the slaughter. Three union miners were shot and killed while
attacking the mine.
The strike breakers who died were buried in a common grave in Herrin
Cemetery. Their identities remain unknown to this day.
Not surprisingly, word quickly spread across the country about the terrible
events. Newspapers and officials cried for justice to be done in the case. A
coroner's reports ruled that the strike breakers were killed by "unknown
individuals" and declared that the deaths had been caused by the actions of the
Southern Illinois Coal Company and not the striking miners.
These findings further outraged the public and several months later, pressure
forced a grand jury to hand down indictments against six men for the murder of
one of the strike breakers. The prosecutor used eyewitness testimony from
surviving workers to present his case, but the defense managed to try and
justify the mob's actions. The jury acquitted all six of the defendants.
The press and public officials outside of the area were again infuriated and
called for a new trial, which took place in 1923. By this time, public interest
in the case had waned but the prosecutor again tried the same six defendants,
although this time for the murder of another strikebreaker. Reliable testimony
was once again presented, but once more, the defense attorney justified the
mob's actions. The jury was convinced and the defendants were again set free.
This was the last trial held and none of the killers were ever punished for
their part in the massacre.... and "Bloody" Williamson gained a notoriety that
lingers to this day.
THE KU KLUX KLAN IN WILLIAMSON COUNTY
Prohibition turned many from the southern Illinois in bootleggers during the
1920's. With the liquor stills and illegal booze shipments came lawlessness,
violence and bloodshed. Many in the region believed that they needed more help
that local law enforcement could provide and welcomed the arrival of the Ku
Klux Klan in 1923. The Klan saw the discontent of the people as an opportunity
to step in and provide relief, as well as their version of law and order. As
most of the bootleggers were "Catholics and foreigners" anyway, this provided
the Klan with the perfect opportunity.
The Klan began its movement into the county by appearing at local churches
with gifts of money and speeches on law and order and "walking the line of
Americanism", wrote Paul Angle in BLOODY WILLIAMSON. Such sentiment was greeted
warmly by the mostly Protestant and largely uneducated residents of the county.
They were also embraced by the local Law and Order League, which had formed in
1923 to stamp out bootlegging and gambling. The local officials did little to
curb the lawless elements in the region and Williamson County was ready for a
"cleaning up" after the shameful events of the Herrin Massacre. The Klan was
now offering them a chance to put the bootleggers and the gamblers out of
business and make Williamson County "more like home and less like hell."
Concerned by the growing number of Klansmen in the county, the local sheriff
also made an effort to curb the violence and the liquor, going out on
ineffectual raids and making token arrests. The Klan was not happy and were
impatient to see something done. The county would be cleaned up, they said, "if
we have to do it ourselves."
The first move was to appeal to the Illinois governor for control. They were
rebuffed, but didn't stop there. A committee then went to Washington, where
they met with Roy Haynes, the Commissioner of Prohibition. He sympathized but
could do little to help... although someone (and it is unknown who it was) put
the committee in touch with a former Prohibition agent named S. Glenn Young.
The committee retained him to conduct the clean up in Williamson County.
Young arrived in Williamson County in November 1923 in the company of his
father-in-law, George Simcox, who had once been a US Marshal. The two men began
visiting speakeasys in the county and compiling evidence against the owners. By
the end of the month, they had bought illegal liquor in 100 different
establishments. With such evidence in hand, Young appealed to Roy Haynes in
Washington and Haynes deputized him once again as a Prohibition agent. Shortly
after, Young began recruiting men from the Klan into his private army. He would
go on to become essentially an "enforcer", operating far outside of the reach
of Haynes and the government.
Young and his 500 recruits began a series of raids that would fill the jails
in Herrin and Benton. Young decked himself out in a military uniform, with two
.45's strapped to his legs and carrying a sub-machine gun. He was at once both
a comical figure on a reckless quest for power.... and a terrifying one. After
three raids, which resulted in 256 arrests, Williamson County was in an uproar.
The raiders did not limit themselves to speakeasys either. Many of the
attacks fell on private homes and it was probably not a coincidence that most
of these homes belonged to Italians and Catholics. There were stories of
brutality, robbery and even planted evidence. The Klan scoffed at the charges
leveled against them by the "foreigners" but many concerned citizens (outside
the ranks of the Klan of course) found them convincing.
Chaos reigned in Williamson County. Most of the charges of brutality had been
directed toward Young. After a fight, Young was arraigned on assault charges.
During the hearing, several Klansmen stalked into the courtroom. They were
heavily armed and carrying the machine guns used in their raids. The jury
retired and immediately returned with a verdict of not guilty.... and this was
only the beginning. Young was also able to get the local sheriff to dismiss his
deputies and hire all Klan supporters... essentially, he was continuing the
organization of his personal army.
But all was not well for Young in the county. One night in Herrin, a meeting
of an anti-Klan group, which included bootleggers Carl and Earl Shelton,
erupted into violence when the meeting one breached by two Klan officers, John
Ford and Harold Crain. A scuffle followed and an anti-Klan supporter named John
Layman was shot. In the confusion that followed, other Klansmen were disarmed
and as prisoners, were taken away.
Shortly after, word of the fighting reached Ceasar Cagle, a bootlegger turned
Klan supporter, who rounded up a group of men and went after the Sheltons and
their friends. Cagle was killed shortly after and when word spread, the Klan
converged on Herrin. Hundreds of them began patrolling the city streets and
stopping cars, looking for Cagle's killers. Warrants were sworn out against
several of the men and even CE Anderson, the mayor of Herrin. The Klansmen
headed for the hospital and demanded entrance from Dr. JT Black, the
administrator. When he refused, the Klan opened fire on the hospital,
endangering the lives of the doctors, nurses and innocent patients.
Within hours, the National Guard had arrived, who quickly dispersed the mob.
The hospital itself was terribly damaged as broken glass covered the floors and
bullet marks pitted the walls facing every outside window. Amazingly, not a
single person in the building was injured.
Young ignored the presence of the troops and his men continued to patrol the
streets wearing crude tin stars. He arrested the mayor and pretty much anyone
who opposed him. He even arrested the sheriff, who he blamed for Cagle's
murder. Young then appointed himself the sheriff and no one dared to oppose
him. So, in a little more than three months, S. Glenn Young had made himself
the dictator of an American county... but it would not last. Soon, officials
were starting to complain about the Klan's "Reign of Terror".
In a short time, Young was charged with trying to overthrow the civil
authorities of Williamson County and he later moved to East St. Louis.
Regardless, the charges against Young were overshadowed by a number of
liquor-related trials and the fact that the Klan managed to sweep the November
elections, remaining in control of Williamson County.... and the last had not
yet been heard from Young.
On May 23, 1924, Young and his wife were driving to East St. Louis when a
Dodge pulled up alongside them and fired a volley of bullets into the Young's
car. Young was wounded and his wife was blinded by the fire. Word of the attack
quickly reached Klan supporters, who swore revenge. A large number of them
organized and began searching for the car. At 10:00 AM, the Dodge was spotted
in Carterville and Klansmen opened fire. The Dodge ran off the road and two men
emerged from the wreckage and tried to flee. One was wounded and the other
killed. The dead man was named Jack Skelcher, a bootlegger. His companion,
Charles Briggs had earlier been indicted with Bernie Shelton for highway
robbery. A coroner's jury would rule that Skelcher's death had been at the
hands of "unknown persons".
Now, Young was back in the spotlight again and he pushed for indictments in
his attack. In June, he swore out warrants for attempted murder against Briggs
and also against Carl and Earl Shelton, who he claimed were in the Dodge with
the other two men. He was probably right, but it's unlikely that he saw them.
Regardless, the case would never go to trial, in spite of a preliminary hearing
where Young showed up with 30 carloads of armed Klansmen to identify the
assailants.
After this, Young continued to be involved in several altercations and in
political and legal blunders that would get him indicted and force him to
finally lose his position as a Prohibition agent.
A short time later, the case against the Shelton Brothers for the murder of
Caesar Cagle came to trial. The only witness for the prosecution, Tim Cagle,
the victim's father, stated that he did not believe the Sheltons were involved
and they were freed. A half hour later, anti-Klan men, George Galligan, Bud
Allison, Ora Thomas, the Sheltons, and others drove to Smith's garage in Herrin
to demand the return of the Dodge driven by Jack Skelcher. The incident
resulted in a shoot-out, leaving six men dead. Three of them were Klansmen.
Fearing more trouble, the National Guard was again dispatched.
In the meantime, Young had his own problems. On September 13, he was
officially expunged from the Klan, although this had little effect on the Klan
supporters in Williamson County. He also was "slapped in the face" by George
Galligan, the local anti-Klan sheriff who had gotten rid of Young's men on the
force and now replaced his special deputy with Ora Thomas, who Young hated.
Thomas was reportedly connected to the "Egan's Rats" mobsters in St. Louis and
was a violent Klan hater. The two men would clash often, but it would all come
to a head in January 1925 in a Herrin cigar store.
Thomas walked into the cigar store, located in the European Hotel, with his
hand on a pistol that he carried in his coat pocket. In the corner of the room,
Young was arguing with man and several onlookers watched, absorbed in what was
taking place. One of the onlookers glanced toward Thomas and then quickly went
out the back door. At that, Young turned around. In an instant, both men had
drawn guns and began firing.
When the smoke cleared, four bodies were on the floor, including two of
Young's guards. Both Young and Thomas were dying, having shot each other.
In time, the hold of the Klan over Williamson County was broken, but this
would not mark the end of the violence and lawlessness. With the Klan gone, the
county was now at the mercy of two warring factions of bootleggers, the Shelton
Brothers and Charlie Birger.... death had not yet departed from Bloody
Williamson.