Howard County IN Archives History - Books .....Crimes And Casualties 1909
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Book Title: History Of Howard County Indiana

CRIMES AND CASUALTIES.
BY OTIS C. POLLARD.

   Peter Cornstalk, a prominent Indian chieftain, died in 1838, just north of
Burlington, and the body was hauled by William Smith to Pete's run, Ervin
township, where it was buried. It was conveyed in a wagon, and the men had to
cut their way through the forest. Cornstalk's son, Pete, following the trail to
this city— "Cocomo"—and to the place of burial, discovered "Doc Bill," "Captain
Bill" and Sam Loon disinterring the remains to rob the grave of the ornaments
with which the corpse had been buried. The Indian killed "Captain Bill" on the
spot, and the other men escaped. March, 1840, Pete treated Loon from his bottle,
got him drunk at Joshua Barnett's grocery, and then conducted him to his
brother, "Doc Bill," who was sick under a tree. The next morning he jerked Loon
from the side of his brother, "Doc Bill," jumped upon his breast and sank a
dagger in his heart. "Doc Bill" was not molested and died of his sickness.
Pleasant Walker was given five dollars to bury Loon's brother.

   Jacob F. Myers, a hunter, was frozen to death, February 14, 1843, in Ervin
township. He had left the grocery of John Harrison for his home in Cass county.
While he had been drinking, was not drunk. When his dog came home half starved,
a searching party was formed. The body was found lying flat upon the back, the
handkerchief that had covered the face having blown away. Myers's gun was
leaning against a bush. From the tracks in the snow, which crossed and
recrossed, it looked as if he had become lost and traveled about forty miles.
Although he carried steel, flint and punk, Indian fashion, to start a fire, he
evidently had not attempted to make one. The searching party, which had a horse,
harness, ax, and an augur, made a "jumper" and hauled the body home.

   The New London Pioneer of the date of December 13, 1848, says: "One day last
week, a man by the name of Kelly, living at Kokomo, in attempting to swim his
horse across Wildcat creek, the stream being very high from the effects of the
recent rains, was thrown from his horse and drowned. It is said that he was in a
drunken frolic and was forcing the poor horse through the raging flood for the
third time. After disappearing he raised to the surface and exclaimed, 'Hurrah
for old Tan,' his horse, and sank to rise no more."

   February 14, 1849, the Pioneer also records: "A man by the name of Love, in
the neighborhood of Kokomo, one of the coldest days of the present week, in a
drunken frolic drove his family from his cabin, setting fire to it, entirely
consuming the house and furniture."

   The only authentic account extant of the killing of Jonas Brewer was that
related by Daniel Rarey, one of the most reputable of Howard county's pioneers,
a short time before his death. Mr. Rarey's only connection with the case was
being arrested as a suspect. But he was released without trial, as it was clear
that in the deed itself he had no participation. Although many persons of
prominence and substantial means were concerned in the affair, every one left
the country, and few living, if any are yet alive, have never since been heard
from. The disappearance and supposed death of Brewer was in 1849. "Brewer was a
handsome, finely built man, who came to Howard county, some said from Kentucky,
others, from Logansport, Indiana. He was popular and fascinating. He kept
company with a Miss Garinger, although her father made strenuous opposition to
Brewer's attentions, Mr. Brewer had a rival, Elijah Tyre, the latter a man of
pronounced personality, and of Scotch extraction, and seen generally wearing a
shawl.

   "Brewer left his pretty sweetheart one day and promised soon to return to
her. A few months elapsed and he did not appear, nor had a word been received
from him. Tyre had been very devoted in Brewer's absence and pressed his claims
constantly. His suit was warmly urged by the girl's father. If the girl felt the
sting of Brewer's neglect she never mentioned the fact to any one, and finally
she yielded her consent of marriage, if not her heart, to Tyre, and was married
to him, to her father's great joy. But the newly founded home was darkened by a
shadow that pained the young wife's heart and brought the blush to her cheeks.
The tiny stranger was not a welcome guest.

THE ASSASSINATION OF JAMES BREWER.

   "One day the word went round that Brewer had returned. The husband was morose
and went about his work sullenly. One evening he went to his home and found it
deserted. There was an abandoned cabin that stood on the bank of Wildcat creek,
near Hopewell church. It was here that a mob gathered and formed its plans. When
Brewer was found he was torn away from the young woman's embrace. She pleaded
for his life, but to no avail. He was dragged to the church site and tied to a
small beech tree. His back was stripped and the man was whipped as hard as lusty
arms could apply the lash. The mob had blackened their faces and looked like a
gang of negroes. Brewer recognized his assailants, despite their disguise,
however, and hurled curses at them, and vowed to kill any and all of them, if
his life was spared.

   "Men in the mob said that the injured husband, wrought to a frenzy of
excitement, rage and fear, whipped out a knife, to the horror of all the mob,
who had not intended his death, and plunged it into Brewer's heart. Brewer
strained against his bonds and died with an unuttered curse upon his lips. Tyre
always denied the guilt of the fatal blow, even on his deathbed, although those
of the mob laid the crime to him.

   "Next morning broken and bloody switches were found, but not the body of
Brewer. A woman was seen running across a field one afternoon, and by farmers
working nearby was heard to shout to her brothers, who were working in the
woods, 'They have found the body under the bridge.' The men cut the harness off
their horses in a second, and leaping astride dashed away, never to return. Near
the bridge was a bog. Here search had been made and apparently traces of a body
found. If ever there, it had evidently been removed shortly after this alarm.
Where it was removed has never been known. Some said it was secreted in a gully
on the James Miller farm, others said that the skeleton turned up by ditchers
several years later in the old Purdum farm, just east of the city, was that of
the murdered man.

   "The next night after the killing warrants were sworn out by Oliver Tyre
before Justice Jonathan Fisher and Constables Howell and Tence Lindley began
serving them. Mr. Rarey was awakened from his sleep by the barking of dogs and a
babel of voices. Going outside of the house in the dark night, he saw lanterns
swaying and supposed that hunters had lost their way. He soon learned his
mistake, and to his astonishment was placed under arrest. As Mr. Rarey was able
to show that he was several miles away in the hay harvest at the time of the
killing he was never tried. The circumstance that led to his arrest was that
parties suspected of belonging to the mob had called at his home the afternoon
before the tragedy to solicit him to help in the enterprise."

   "On the day of our August election," says the Pioneer, Howard county's first
newspaper, in its issue of Wednesday, August 7, 1850, in "Harrison township, the
most horrible and heart-rending affray took place, that we have ever been called
upon to witness. There appears to have been an old grudge and dispute between
the parties for some length of time, and the encounter was designed and
premeditated. The assailants, Brohard and Lane, retired at an early hour,
selected their ground, and after some parleying, a ring was formed, into which
the parties stepped, and commenced a fearful onset, encouraged by their friends,
respectively. After dealing each other some half dozen or more blows with the
fist, the brother of Lane interfered by violently pushing Brohard aside from his
opponent. Lane instantly tottered and fell dead upon the ground. His friends
soon removed him to a neighboring brook, and two physicians were promptly
called, and all means used that could be to resuscitate the dead man, but to no
effect." Dr. Lewis Kern, a pioneer of Harrison township, who was at the election
when the difficulty between John Brohard and Jesse Lane occurred, described it
picturesquely:

   "Lane approached Brohard, who, by the way, was a large, raw-boned man, and
apparently much stronger than Lane. But the Lanes boasted of being of fighting
stock. After applying various vile epithets to Brohard, Lane dared him to fight,
and Brohard said, 'Jesse, I do not want to have any fight with you here. I am
willing to acknowedge that you are a better man than I am and let us make friends.'

   "When Aaron Lane, Jesse's brother, drew a ring on the ground and remarked
that 'If he was not a d—d coward he would enter the ring, and his brother would
whip him.' Brohard replied, 'To show you that I am no coward, I will enter the
ring,' which he did in a perfectly cool manner, while Lane had his coat off and
a belt fastened around his waist, foaming with rage. He sprang at Brohard. The
first lick Brohard knocked off and dealt Lane a blow in the region of the heart.
Lane fell over muttering a curse and died."

   Brohard was arrested for the affray and first taken before James T. McCrary,
justice of the peace, and his bond fixed at two hundred dollars. His sureties
were James and Barnett Brohard. J. F. Fanchier filed the affidavit August 5,
1850. September 14, 1850, Brohard's bond was raised before Henry B. Havens,
justice of the peace, to eight hundred dollars, and the charge raised to
manslaughter. In November, the same year, Brohard was tried by jury in the
circuit court and fined three dollars for the affray.

   In 1856 the law authorized a jury in coroner cases. That year "Scott"
Mitchell committed suicide. Thomas A. Armstrong was coroner, and the jury
empaneled comprised Hiram Newlin, Len Mills, John W. Travis, J. K. Will, C.
Stafford, R. H. Porter, Samuel T. Mills, Daniel M. Centine, R. H. Birt, O. B.
Todd, H. B. Havens and Henry Ulrich. Mitchell was found dead one morning at
eleven o'clock, at his home, which stood upon what is now the Congregational
church corner. Mr. Mills broke through a window and opened the front door for
the entrance of the citizens. Mitchell was stretched upon the floor. He had
securely shut up the house, and dressing himself in his best clothes, he had
laid down upon the floor, holding a shotgun against his body. He pulled the
trigger with his foot. His family were all away from home. The reason of his act
was never known. Strange as it may seem, he had begged earnestly of his friend
Mills to go hunting with him early that morning. It was supposed that he had
purposed killing Mills and shooting himself.

   In 1860, a six-year-old daughter of Levi Sizelove, living in the eastern part
of the county, was killed by a tree the father chopped down, he not knowing that
she was there. The same year Joseph W. Davis, of Fairfield, killed his father by
striking him over the head with a stick of wood, as the sequel of a quarrel.
Davis received a sentence of two years.

HANGED BY A MOB.

   John Thrall, on May 27, 1863, shot to death Nelson J. Cooper and fatally
wounded the Rev. John W. Lowe, who died the next day. Thrall was a horse thief
and while attempting to resist arrest perpetrated the crimes, for which he was
hanged by a mob. Captain H. H. Stewart was deputy sheriff under N. B. Brown, and
had received word to be on the lookout for horses stolen at Anderson. When
Thrall and his companion, whose name has nof been officially preserved, arrived
at the Nelson Cooper barn on the north side of the court house square with the
horses word was sent to Captain Stewart, who, with a party of friends, was
dancing a quadrille, a few squares removed from the livery stable. Stewart at
once left for the livery stable, where he found the men mounted upon the stolen
horses. He examined the animals and was soon satisfied that they were the horses
described in a letter received by the sheriff. The men started to ride away,
whereupon Stewart ordered Mr. Cooper to assist in their arrest. As Mr. Cooper
reached toward the bridle. Thrall whipped out his revolver and sent a bullet
into his brain, which bullet entered at the side of Cooper's nose, and he was
instantly dead. Then Thrall opened fire upon Stewart, who was shot in the hand.
The missile peeled the flesh back, and this same bullet sped toward the Rev.
Lowe, whom it struck in the side wounding him fatally. To escape the next shot
Stewart threw himself beneath the horse. Fearing his further safety Thrall
started from the stable on a gallop, his companion having already fled,
proffering Thrall no assistance. Proceeding west on Walnut street, Thrall was
about to reach the railroad tracks, when confronted by Justice of the Peace
Thomas Auter, a doughty character, who, inspired by the excitement of the
moment, without knowing its cause, but hearing the cries to stop Thrall, picked
Up a brickbat, which he hurled with a lusty arm at Thrall's head. The horse
thief, to escape the missile, swung to one side, whereupon the saddle turned
with him. Henry B. Steward, a son of Coroner John Steward, and an expert shot,
just returned from the army on a furlough, was standing upon the Dennison corner
and brought Thrall down by a shot which shattered his leg. He had said upon the
instant that he would not kill Thrall, but he would wound and disable him, as he
did. Thrall lay wounded in the street when Coroner John Steward advanced upon
him to demand his arrest. Thrall yet held in his hand the weapon which had
caused Cocker's death and mortally wounded the Rev. Lowe, but he made no attempt
to use it on the coroner. He submitted to arrest peacefully and for safety was
taken to the third story of the old Henderson hotel. The owner, —not the man
after whom the hotel was named—appeared in a frenzy of excitement, brandishing
an ax, exclaiming that he didn't propose to have any murderer in his house, and
declaring that he would kill Thrall. Coroner Steward, with Thrall's weapon,
commanded the landlord to immediately go below, which he lost no time in doing.
Coroner Steward then conducted his prisoner to jail. Meantime a searching party
pursued Thrall's companion, who was followed to a swamp northeast of the city,
but who managed to escape detection by hiding under a log over which his
pursuers passed. At night he escaped, and while it has been reported that he was
subsequently apprehended and sent to the penitentiary, this appears a mistake,
as Captain Stewart says that he made a thorough investigation, even at the
penitentiaries, and that Thrall's companion was never apprehended and convicted.
Thrall was very bitter toward his companion. He said that as they had approached
Kokomo they had stopped at the Washington street ford of Wildcat creek and
pledged themselves to escape or die together, as they "swigged a slug of
whiskey." Instead the companion deserted Thrall the moment trouble introduced
itself. Thrall was happy in the death of Mr. Cooper, but regretted that of Mr.
Lowe, and was sorry that he had not hit Captain Stewart. Public excitement
reached its height on the night following the Rev. Lowe's death and a mob formed
to execute summary justice to Thrall. He had expected something of the kind. His
need of being in fear of the event had been shouted to him through the bars of
his cell, from outside of the windows. He noted these warnings mentally, but did
not condescend to answer concerning them. But that he was impressed with the
fate before him was evident in his sending for Coroner Steward. To that official
he made a remarkable confession. He said his name was not Thrall at all. He
revealed to the coroner his real name, under pledge that it never be revealed.
Forty years Coroner Steward kept that secret in his breast and he carried it
with him, as he had promised, to his grave. Thrall—for that must be the name by
which he is to be known—confided the information that he was from the southland,
and that he was a member of a prominent family, and that his situation had once
been an honorable and prosperous one. To save his aged mother and family from
the shame of a knowledge of the true circumstances of his death he would keep
foreverer his identity a secret. He said that he had been a merchant, but a
Union man in a southern state. Every attempt had been made to induce him to
recant his sentiments and to impress him into the Confederate service, but
without avail. His business was wrecked, he said, by a mob of southern
sympathizers, and his property destroyed. Thrall saved live hundred dollars out
of the wreck, bid his family "good bye," promising to return if all went well,
and fled to the North. He landed in Indianapolis, Indiana, and worked a while in
a tannery, but soon fell into dissipation and bad habits. Losing his situation
as the result of a jealous quarrel with his foreman, he become a peddler of
fruits upon the streets of Indianapolis, but finally, attracted by the high
prices horses were bringing, if sold for the use of the Union Army, he entered
upon horse stealing upon a wholesale plan. He gave his watch to Sheriff Brown
and his ring to Coroner Steward. That night the blows upon the iron doors of the
jail resounded throughout the city, but no man was calmer through all the
excitement than Thrall. No man ever faced a mob more bravely. Roughly handled,
despite his wound, he hobbled to the court house yard without a murmur. He stood
upon a box and faced the seekers of his life defiantly. Examining the noose
which hung above his head, he found that it was too long, and with his own hand
adjusted it to his neck. He whipped out a handkerchief and tied it around his
body to symbolize his innocence over the guilt of the mob, which he defied to do
its worst. While he was yet speaking: he was swung oft. Those popularly supposed
to be connected with the mob never prospered afterward and suffered a great deal
in consequence of it, leaving the locality ultimately and ever afterward
expressing regret at the part they had taken in Thrall's death. His body was cut
down, but refused burial in the old cemetery. He was buried beneath a tree upon
the east, just outside. It was even difficult to secure burial of the remains,
feeling ran so high. While Thrall was buried it was always the claim that his
body had not a long repose, and it was the general belief that the skeleton
beneath the stairway of a prominent drug store of Kokomo, which rested there for
years, was that of Thrall. The body of his victim. Nelson Cooper, was removed
from'the old cemetery to Crown Point cemetery, forty years after the burial, and
was laid not far from the Rev. John Lowe, the second of Thrall's victims.

JEALOUSY LEADS TO A CRIME.

   Inflamed with jealousy, Dr. Henry C. Cole shot dead, October, 1866, Chambers
Allen, as Allen was leaving the postoffice, then on Buckeye street, near Walnut
street. Dr. Cole and his first wife, Nellie Cole, a beautiful woman, had many
domestic disagreements. Upon one occasion, returning to Kokomo after an extended
absence. Dr. Cole found a sale of his household goods in progress, which he
declared unauthorized, and to which procedure he put an abrupt end. Despite
their disagreements, he was greatly in love with her. He did everything in his
power to maintain the harmony of their domestic relations and did not divorce
her until after he had shot Allen. Dr. Cole, in the shooting, acted upon the
belief that Allen had invaded his home. He had warned Allen to keep away from
Kokomo; it is said he even wrote Allen a letter, warning him to remain away from
Kokomo, plainly informing him that he would meet death if he ventured a return.
It was generally known in Kokomo, in that day, that Cole had threatened Allen's
life. The first sight of Allen was enough to inspire Cole with a frenzy, and he
fired three shots into Allen, Cole was arrested and at first denied bail, being*
confined within the Washington street jail, but later was released upon ten
thousand dollars bond. He took a change of venue December, 1866, to Tipton
county, where he was tried for murder and acquitted upon a plea of emotional
insanity, his defense in chief being conducted by Senator D. W. Voorhees. Dr.
Cole was one of Kokomo's most picturesque personalities, and himself was the
victim of a violent death. Dr. Cole was of a tall and graceful build, with
lustrous eyes, and had a magnificent beard, which was with him a matter of great
pride. He always dressed faultlessly in his day, the best tailor-made clothes
gracing his figure. He wore an appropriate ornamentation of jewelry, and had
delicate, small hands and feet, and was a man of fascination among women. His
father, Jesse Cole, a Kentuckian, moving to Ripley county, where Dr. Cole was
born, was noted through life as impulsive, self-willed, and a thoroughly
determined man, and such was his son. Dr. Cole, who was a determined and
admittedly desperate man. He would shoot, if he so decided, and this trait
known, he was greatly feared. He inspired the most devoted, loyal and undying
friendships, and enmities as bitter as could be imagined. He had been an army
surgeon and had gained a wide reputation in his day as a physician of great
skill and a surgeon of rare ability. For a friend, especially a poor man, he
would drive any distance, and upon the most inclement night, with the certain
knowledge that he would not receive a cent's pay. He has been known, to threaten
to throw downstairs a poor patient offering to pay him a bill, remarking that he
"would charge the amount up to some rich patient." He inspired the love of
children. But an enemy he hated with all the hatred of his soul. Dr. Cole's name
has been connected with many daring and elaborate schemes of revenge, and with
unlawful things, but no proof against him ever appeared. Guilty or innocent, no
man's name was ever more freely used in connection with transactions, proof of
his direct connection with which would have landed him behind the bars, if not
sentenced him to the gallows. Yet proof of such connections were never even
attempted. He vehemently denounced his enemies as the authors of "these vile
slanders" one and all. He had enemies, and scores of them, and they hated him as
cordially as he hated them. Yet in private life he was as kind and mild-mannered
as a man could be. A candidate for mayor. Dr. Cole's enmities grew to white
heat. He gave no compromise and expected none. It was while holding this office
that he met death, breathing his last upon the same night that Garfield died.
The roar of shot guns was plainly heard throughout the city before midnight. The
people rushed toward the spring mills, hearing the report that Dr. Cole had been
shot, and his body lay upon the commons to the west of the mill, cold in death.
The explanation was that Dr. Cole had planned the burning of the mill, and that
he had purposed its robbery with the intention of secreting the flour upon the
premises of an enemy, but, anticipated by a sheriff's posse, was shot to death
while attempting to flee the place. He was said to have been betrayed by an
accomplice in his purposed act. A post mortem of the body was held. His nose was
broken, which was said to have been caused by his running against a wood pile in
the attempt to escape. He was also shot in the knee, the claim being that this
was the first wound, received as he ventured up to the mill window to enter, to
join his confederate in carrying out flour. In his heart was found a small bird
shot, pronounced the cause of death, and received, it was said, while in flight,
and refusing to submit to arrest. A coroner's investigation before Dr. J. C.
Wright, of Russiaville, was held. The state of facts presented were testified to
by those participating in the capture and death of Cole. His friends refused to
believe that he had attempted a theft and claimed that his death was consummated
elsewhere, but no such proof was ever adduced and the explanations of the posse
stands unimpeached until this day. In the removal of Dr. Cole, Kokomo lost a
picturesque and forceful personality, of whom friends speak in kindness and of
whom those who disliked him speak in harshest terms, economizing no word to his
disparagement.

   The prosecution of Jonathan Binns for the murder of his wife, Rachel Binns.
January 31, 1870, was one of the most notable in the criminal annals of Howard
county. At the time the killing took place there was a suit pending in the Cass
circuit court by Mrs. Binns against her husband for a divorce, in which she
charged Binns with various things, among them consorting with bad women. Mrs.
Binns was shot while at her home at Russiaville, at night, between 8 and 10
o'clock, through a window. When dying she stated that her husband had shot her.
She stated that he had said that he could and would shoot her if she did not
sign certain papers concerning some money. Binns attempted to prove that he was
at Kokomo, ten or twelve miles distant, at the time the crime was committed.
Twice convicted, Binns secured a reversal of the case in the supreme court,
first upon the ground that he had been wrongfully deprived of a continuance of
his case, for which he had asked, and to which he was entitled under the law. He
succeeded in his second appeal upon the ground that his wife's declarations of
his guilt of her death were wrongfully admitted in evidence, in that she had not
seen him before receiving the fatal shot, but had merely expressed the opinion
that it was he because of their past differences and his threats against her.
The state was able to show the presence of Binns near the residence of his wife
a short time before her death.

   In August, 1877, Michael Gillooley killed Thomas W. Lannon at the junction
and was prosecuted for murder in the first degree. Lannon was a policeman and
had once arrested Gillooley for frequenting a house of ill fame. The state
showed that Gillooley had threatened to kill Lannon in consequence. Gillooley
was convicted of murder in the first degree. The leading witness against him was
Rev. Father Francis Lordeman, who had admonished Gillooley against carrying out
his threats. Gillooley took an appeal to the supreme court, claiming that the
testimony of Father Lordeman was violating the confidence of the church, but
this plea was overruled and the conviction affirmed in November. 1877. )jY tne
supreme court. As the death penalty had been imposed, the gallows were building
when a public agitation for the prisoner was started. The matter was carried to
"Blue Jeans" Williams, then governor, who commuted the sentence to imprisonment
for life. Gillooley was pardoned a short time before his death. He had
threatened the death of the trial judge, but ended his days quietly.

HANGED FROM A BRIDGE.

   Richard Long was hanged by a mob upon the Main street bridge Monday night,
April 3, 1882. The iron structure then standing had a support above. Long was
accused of having outraged the little daughter of Ed Pritchard. He was arrested
and placed in the Washington street jail. The Sunday preceding his execution an
excited throng faced the jail, throwing a rope over the fence at frequent
intervals and breathing threats. But this was not the agency of Long's death.
The unorganized throng was merely the froth of public feeling. Later a mob was
deliberately organized in the Haskett grove, and it chose a leader, who was such
in name and in fact. Monday, night the mob tore Long from the jail. He was
conducted along High street in his stocking feet, pale with excitement, but not
yet seriously impressed with the belief that he was actually to be hanged. He
made no appeals, but walked bravely forward. Arrived at the bridge. Long was
lifted upon a box and the rope, put around his neck. It was found too short to
reach over the girder above and one of the mob climbed to the height and
fastened it to a beam above the box. At this juncture the Rev. Robert McCune,
pastor of the First Congregational church, and Hon. J. Fred Vaile, later of
western and national fame as a lawyer, arrived and pleaded in vain with the mob
for the life of Long. Vaile even called upon the men to aid him in rescuing the
condemned man, but to no purpose. No one responded. Long was asked if he had
anything to say. He requested the privilege of singing "See That My Grave Is
Kept Green," and the strain was interrupted with the exclamation, "Shove a hot
potato in his mouth." When the last words faded from Long's lips the box was
kicked from beneath him and he swung to his death. The body was cut down next
morning and exhibited in the north corridor of the court house. His body was
supposed to have been buried in the old cemetery, and for a season his grave was
covered with a bunch of flowers, planted by unknown hands, which attention
ceased finally altogether. Some said his body was never buried, but be that as
it may, a coffin was at least. Long denied to the last his guilt of outrage, and
it seems that the proof of that point has never been clearly established and
remains to this day a matter of grave doubt. Long confessed to horse stealing,
and admitted that he had served in the Michigan City penitentiary, but denied
the rape, evidences of which it was asserted were established by the condition
of his clothing.

   During the administration of J. F. Elliott, prosecutor of Howard and Tipton
counties, occurred one of the celebrated trials of this locality. William
Dougherty was tried for homicide in the alleged felonious killing of Joseph
VanHorn, in the saloon of the Howard House. The shooting grew out of alleged
offensive remarks made by VanHorn imputed against the chastity of Dougherty's
sister. Dougherty was tried at Tipton and acquitted.

   During the administration of A. B. Kirkpatrick as prosecutor William Malosh
received a sentence of nine years in the penitentiary for burning the Union
block. The trial was had in 1887.

   In the same year Ollie Hawkins was convicted of the killing of Richard Hacse
through jealousy and was defended by Senator D. W. Voorhees. Hawkins received a
seven-year sentence, but was pardoned.

   December, 1888, John E. Fleming, an escape from the Marion, Indiana, jail,
shot Robert L. Jones, sheriff of Grant county, in a house in Jerome, Indiana,
where the sheriff was trying to effect Fleming's arrest. Fleming was captured
and convicted, but escaped even from the penitentiary, but was apprehended. His
sentence was for life.

   In 1891 George Tykle received a sentence of two years in the penitentiary for
criminal negligence in boiling a man named Clark to death. Tykle conducted a
bathing establishment and it was shown that Clark was a helpless paralytic and,
placed in a bath tub, was left alone, and while in this situation the natural
gas in the burner either came up or was turned up by third parties, with the
result that Clark was literally boiled alive, the flesh from his bones floating
about the tub when his body was discovered and removed. The fact is that Tykle,
who was a well-read and well-educated man, but had his own theories about
things, was grieved to death over the misfortune, as Clark was his best friend
and a sincere believer in the water cure theories of Tykle.

THE MOLIHAN GANG.

   During the seventies the Molihan gang flourished in the Junction district.
All manner of crimes were laid at the doors of this reputed gang, but if guilty
its members were never ascertained, apprehended and brought to justice. It was
claimed that its ramifications extended so far that justice was nullified and
detection rendered out of the case, and that it perpetrated crime with impunity
and after a studied plan. A wholesale robbery of farm houses and city residences
of silverware was one plan supposed to be backed by the gang, and several bodies
cut to pieces upon the railroad tracks at the junction were said to have been
men murdered and then placed there by this gang, the booty of which, it was
claimed, was sold in Chicago by those whose names, if revealed, would have
caused surprise. At any rate the terror of the gang caused deep apprehension in
the minds and hearts of the Kokomo public, and when the Molihan saloon passed
away and the reputed gang melted away the public breathed a sigh of relief.

   September 4, 1901, Jacob Dotterer was killed at his home in Howard township,
near Vermont. The aged man was attacked by four men, two of whom were masked,
this fact leading the authorities to believe that they were Howard county men,
while the unmasked men were strangers. The report seems to have got abroad that
Mr. Dotterer was to receive, on the night that he was fatally shot, the purchase
price of his farm, and his assailants planned to rob him of his money. Two of
the men were seen to cross the fields from Vermont station and lie in wait for
the appearance of the purchaser of the farm, who, later, came to the Dotterer
home, where he remained about half an hour. Scon a knock was heard at the front
door of Mr. Dotterers home, which summons he answered in person, lamp in hand.
He was confronted by the two masked men, who commanded him to surrender. He
hastily set the lamp upon a stand and gave battle to the strangers, knocking
both down and worsting the rest of the party as they advanced upon him. Although
a man of sixty-five years of age, he proved a "genuine surprise party" for his
assailants. He was worsting them all, when one cried out, "Well, I guess we will
have to kill the old man." With that a shot rang out and a bullet plowed through
the old man's stomach, entering from the side. Dotterer fell and with a dying
strength reached into his pocket, and drawing out two hundred and forty-two
dollars he had there, hurled it up a stairway, where it fell unnoticed into a
recess in which it was not discovered by the robbers. The old man being shot,
the robbers compelled Mrs. Dotterer to open the safe, after she had fought one
of the number and torn his shirt off, while they held Mrs. Roll Dotterer at bay.
In the safe was found sixty-five cents. A search of the house discovered fifteen
dollars more, which the robbers took away, but this was all they secured. For
while the deeds to the farm had been made the money was not turned over on the
tragic night. The amount would have been several thousand dollars, and the
robbers expected a large haul. When they left the Dotterer home they told the
women that if they gave the alarm to the neighbors they would shoot them upon
sight. It was some time therefore before the alarm was given. The authorities
had parties under suspicion, but as they were about to get evidence to warrant
arrests the suspects left the city.

THE SUTTON-YAGER MYSTERY.

   What is commonly spoken of as the Sutton-Yager mystery is one which has never
been solved, if mystery it was, in fact. While the death of Francis Sutton,
April 27, 1903, and that of Lewis Yager, May 11, 1903, are both claimed to have
been suicides, these deaths, succeeding each other so closely, happening in the
same locality, and bearing so many evidences of similarity, roused the entire
county to the belief that the young men had been murdered. The best detective
skill of the country was employed to no avail, working upon the theory of murder
and with the intent of bringing the guilty parties—if any—to justice. All the
great metropolitan dailies sent representatives to the locality to seek to clear
up the mystery, but all these efforts came to naught. Francis Sutton was found
lying near his horse and buggy, close to the gate at the Peter's home, not far
from Hemlock. Sutton had called the night before (Sunday night) upon Miss Stella
Peters, and left her home. He never got farther than the gate at the end of the
lane, which opened into the public road. Here he is supposed to have taken his
own life, or to have been killed. A large hole had been pawed into the ground by
the horse, indicating that it had stood at the gate a long time impatiently. A
short distance to one side was found the body of Sutton, which had evidently
been spilled out of the buggy when the horse left the gate, proceeding toward a
woods on that side. In the buggy was found a revolver, that of Sutton, with one
chamber empty, and his body disclosed that death had come from a single shot.

   Two weeks later the body of Lewis Yager was found sitting bolt upright in his
buggy, which the horse had drawn to the lane gate at the D. S. Yager home, near
Oakford. Yager, too. had called upon a young lady the evening before, but had
left her home early and proceeded elsewhere. There was some evidence that he had
been at Sharpsville. The buggy wheel was stained with blood, and his toes were
jammed under the front rod of the buggy bed. The blood had oozed from a wound in
Yager's temple. While suicide was claimed, the position of Yager's feet led to
the suspicion and belief that he had been shot and his body wedged into the
buggy so it would not fall out, and the horse started homeward. Other
circumstances alleged were that the horse he was driving was a high-spirited one
and would not stand fire, in the case Yager fired a bullet into his own brain,
but would have run away, perhaps wrecking the buggy, and leaving the body
anywhere along the road. The theory was that Yager had been with several
parties, and there was evidence that he had been drinking, as the laprobe
smelled of the fumes of liquor, yet it was recognized that this might have been
poured on the robe as a misleading circumstance. The elaborate theory was
builded that both Sutton and Yager had been victims of a feud of the
neighborhood and that both had been murdered. The finding of a revolver in the
road near the supposed scene of Yager's death later heightened the belief of
foul play, and it was argued that perhaps Sutton had been shot with a revolver
not his own, but that his revolver had been discharged once and thrown into the
buggy bed to establish the appearance of a premeditated death. It was surmised
that both young men had been halted and shot to death while in their buggies. A
bogus detective ran off with the revolver and no practical results ever came of
the investigations upon the murder theory, but nevertheless it may have been the
true one, and time may vindicate it, but the conclusion was accepted by the
public that both young men had committed suicide and that the most striking
coincident was that they should take their lives within so short a time, one
after the other.

   Amos Jackson, whose body was rescued from Wildcat creek, March 28, 1906, was
supposed to have been pushed off the Carter street levee by design, but if so
the fact was never established.

   Attorney I. C. Hoopes, prominent at the Howard county bar, in a fit of mental
aberration stole into the parlor of his West Taylor street home, December 28,
1907, sending a bullet through his brain, death resulting instantly.

   Fairy McClain was shot to death at the home of her aunt, Mrs. Mattie Nay,
North Lafontaine street, April 7, 1908. Knocking at her bed room door, which
opened off a hall through which he easily entered, the street door being
unlocked, Jesse Worley Osborn, her jealous and maddened lover, forced himself
into her bed room, as soon as Miss McClain opened the door to see who was there.
She being in her night clothes, fled to her bed, and the aunt and her little son
fled to the home of a neighbor to summon the police. Osborn demanded that Miss
McClain arise and talk with him and that she kiss him. She declined to comply
with any of his requests, and defied his threats, which, previously made against
her, he renewed upon this occasion. Osborn, who had been drinking, whipped out
his revolver with the exclamation, "Fairy, you provoke me." and shot her twice
in the head. She fell out of bed in a heap. Osborn fled the scene, although the
night was stormy and the rain was falling heavily. A search was instituted for
him, but without avail, for some days. He had gone as far as Canada, but
homesick, he ventured to return as far as Logansport. Here he was apprehended in
the Pan Handle railroad yards by the company's detectives, while riding the
bumpers of a freight train. Osborn made no resistance against arrest and was
brought to Kokomo, his captors obtaining a reward of five hundred dollars
offered by the county commissioners. Osborn entered a plea of guilty and was
sentenced to the penitentiary for life. He had, it developed, kept company with
Miss McClain for several years, and she finally decided to get rid of him. A few
weeks before the killing they had quarreled and he had struck the young woman,
for which offense he was given a jail sentence. While the young waman chose to
bear her maiden name and did so, she was the wife of Levi Miller, but with whom
she did not live.

   Charles Thresher and William Lindley lost their lives as the result of drink,
September 28, 1908. On that date their bodies, stiff in death, were found in the
gravel pit near Greentown. Sunday preceding they were seen to leave Greentown,
jug in hand, which vessel contained whisky, and they remarked to one they passed
that they were "going out to celebrate the county local option law," which had
just been passed by the special session of the legislature. They remained at the
gravel pit throughout Sunday, drinking and eating paw-paws. The jug was
replenished at least twice. Finally Charles Lindley, who was with them,
staggered away from the place and tried to get his companions to follow him,
without success. When he returned next day he found them cold in death, one body
submerged in the water and the other staring with glassy eyes towards the starry
heavens. The bodies were taken to the Fulwider undertaking establishment at
Greentown, where, under the direction of the Rev. Hall, they were viewed by
school children who passed by, single file, as an object lesson in temperance.



Additional Comments:
From:

HISTORY OF HOWARD COUNTY INDIANA
BY
JACKSON MORROW, B. A.
ILLUSTRATED
VOL. I
B. F. BOWEN & COMPANY
INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA

(circa 1909)

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