My own story; an account of the conditions in Kentucky leading to the assassination of William Goebel, who was declared governor of the state, and my indictment and conviction on the charge of complicity in his murder

Chapter I Page

My reasons for writing this story — My ancestors ^- My life as a boy in the Kentucky mountains — Our removal to Brush Creek i

CHAPTER n

I matriculate at Union College — The college debate —

My first oratorical effort — I teach my first school . 9

CHAPTER HI

I argue about the burning question, " Resolved : That

the earth is round" — The judgment of my peers . 20

CHAPTER IV

My life at the state college — I learn to drill — I teach school again — Illness — My appointment to West Point 26

CHAPTER V

I journey to West Point — A glimpse of the national capital — I prepare for examinations — The ordeal — I enter West Point 35

CHAPTER VI

SUMMER CAMP

I Spend the summer in camp — Hazing — I arrest my

superior officer 43

CHAPTER Vn

AT LAW SCHOOL

I become a third-classman — My eyesight fails and I am forced to leave the Academy — I enter the law school at Valparaiso, Indiana 48

CHAPTER Vni

I am a candidate for the office of superintendent of schools of Knox County, Kentucky — I make a canvass of the mountain districts — I take part in joint debates — I am graduated from law school and elected to office 52

CHAPTER IX

MARRIAGE

Responsibility of office — I begin to practise law — My

marriage — The sudden death of my wife .... 61

CHAPTER X

AGAINST ODDS

I am again a successful candidate — I take a post-graduate course in law at Center College, Danville — Stump-speaking 6/S

CHAPTER XI

THE KENTUCKY PROBLEM

FACE

Affairs in Kentucky in 1899 — The Goebel Election Law

— Opinion of Henry Watterson — The effort of the Democrats to have the law declared constitutional — The outlook for Democratic success in the campaign

CHAPTER Xn

THE DEMOCRATIC MACHINE

The Democratic state convention at Music Hall, Louisville — Many contesting delegations — Excitement over the temporary chairman's decision — Bailiffs fail to preserve order — Election of Redwine as permanent chairman — Machine work — Stone proposes terms ']'j

CHAPTER Xni

THE CONVENTION DECIDES

Continuance of Democratic Convention at Music Hall — Despair of delegates — Judge Redwine refuses to entertain a motion to adjourn — Goebel is nominated

— Democratic ticket — Independent Democrats repudiate the ticket of the Music Hall Convention — Objections of Prohibitionists — Anti-Goebel movement goes on — Denunciation of the Goebel Election Law 85

CHAPTER XIV

THE REPUBLICAN CONVENTION

Race for nominations on the Republican ticket — State convention at Lexington — I am nominated for Secretary of State 93

CHAPTER XV

MR. BRYAN VISITS KENTUCKY

PAGE

Goebel opens his campaign at Mayfield — His reluctance to mix with people — Republican campaign begins at London — Opening of anti-Goebel campaign at Bowling Green — Goebel refuses to take part in joint debate — Mr. Bryan on the stump for Goebel — Louisville election board removes election officers ... 98

CHAPTER XVI

ELECTION DAY IN KENTUCKY IN 1899

Election day — " Repeaters' paradise " — Assembling of military — Republicans win by a safe plurality — Democrats claim election — -Election board renders decision in favor of Republicans 105

CHAPTER XVn

Goebel contests decision of election board — Democratic caucus — Evidence of Mr. Harrel — Inauguration of Taylor — Rules of Contest Committee . .. . . iil

CHAPTER XVin

Effort of Taylor's attorneys to remove Democratic members of contest committees — Suit to enjoin Taylor appointees from taking oath of office — Republicans seek to arouse the people — I bring the mountain people to Frankfort — Meeting on the steps of the Capitol — I go to Louisville for more petitioners — Goebel is shot — The excitement at Frankfort — The military is called out . . . I18

CHAPTER XIX

MAKING POLITICAL CAPITAL

PAGE

Demand for revenge — Governor Taylor convenes the Legislature at London — Democrats declare Goebel and Beckham elected and later falsify the records of the general assembly — A proclamation — Senator Goebel's death is announced, and Beckham takes the oath of office as governor 126

CHAPTER XX

Sorrow over the death of Senator Goebel — Governor Taylor rejects the Louisville "Peace Agreement" — General assembly reconvenes at Frankfort — Two legislative bodies and two sets of state officials . . 130

CHAPTER XXI

DEMOCRATIC SLEUTHS BEGIN WORK

Decision against Republicans — Action of Legislature final — Goebel partizans threaten to take forcible possession of the offices — Situation becomes warlike — The Democrats appropriate one hundred thousand dollars to discover and punish the assassin . . . 137

CHAPTER XXII

I visit my father and mother — Threatened with arrest, I seek safety in flight, but am taken from a train at Lexington — I pass a gloomy, apprehensive night in a cell 142

CHAPTER XXIII

FROM LEXINGTON TO LOUISVILLE

FACE

Nocturnal visit of officers to my cell — Handcuffed, I am taken from jail, driven across country to a railway and hurried to Louisville — A defense fund of ten thousand dollars 150

CHAPTER XXIV

Before Judge Moore — The late T. C. Campbell's record — Wharton Golden's testimony — Dramatic scene, pregnant with dire possibilities, that finally passes away without bloodshed — Moments of great peril to myself — I am denied bail and go back to jail . . 155

CHAPTER XXV

Arrest of Combs, Noakes, Youtsey and others — How Lawyer Campbell and Arthur Goebel secure a " confession " from Youtsey — Decision against Taylor and Marshall — Report of the grand jury, indicting myself and many others — Federal supreme court decides against the Republicans — Governor Taylor's flight to Indiana — Denunciatory Democratic platform 164

CHAPTER XXVI

REPUBLICANS BARRED

My first trial before Judge Cantrill — Selection of a partizan jury — Disregard of the law for the purpose of insuring conviction — Campbell's statement in behalf of the prosecution ...... .... . . . 176

CHAPTER XXVII

A POLITICAL NECESSITY

PAGE

Trained witness for the Commonwealth — George F. Weaver's sensational statement in regard to the shooting of Senator Goebel — Indictment for perjury, but no prosecution — Finley Anderson's false testimony 183

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE VALUE OF AN OATH

Robert Noakes in the role of a star-witness — Later confesses himself to be a perjurer — W. H. Culton exonerates me after giving sensational testimony — F. Wharton Golden's evidence — Prosecution calls the Goebel press to its rescue 189

CHAPTER XXIX

Judge Faulkner's statement for the defense — My testimony for myself — Cross-examination by Lawyer Campbell — Address to the jury — Verdict of guilty, with penalty of life imprisonment — Juryman Porter — My card to the public I95

CHAPTER XXX

I am again taken to the Louisville jail — ^ My reflections on the way — I find myself a victim of injustice, with no prospect of redress — Charges and countercharges preceding the trial of Jim Howard — Summary of the testimony — Howard is convicted of shooting Goebel and is sentenced to death 204

CHAPTER XXXI

FAGS

Campbell's deftly woven statement — Hunted look of the defendant — His fierce denunciation of Arthur Goebel and paroxysmal display of emotion — His illness and his appearance in the court-room — Jury returns verdict of guilty, with imprisonment for life . . . 213

CHAPTER XXXn

A REPUBLICAN JUDGE ELECTED

Confessions by Anderson and Noakes, admitting they were bribed — Youtsey signs an affidavit exonerating me — I am encouraged by a change in the political complexion of the court of appeals 220

CHAPTER XXXni

Four Republican appellate judges grant Howard and myself new trials — Colonel W. C. P. Breckinridge's arraignment of the Democratic judges — Continuation of the prosecution's "Hang and damn" policy — Captain Ripley's acquittal — Judge Cantrill's famous charge to the Grand Jury 225

CHAPTER XXXIV

AGAIN BEFORE JUDGE CANTRILL

Governor Durbin declines to honor requisitions for Taylor and Finley — My second trial a repetition of the first — Judge Cantrill refuses to vacate the bench — Twelve partizan Goebel Democrats act as jurymen — Am again convicted, and sentenced for life . . . 232

CHAPTER XXXV

PAGE

J. B. Howard's second trial results in change of sentence to life imprisonment — Berry Howard's acquittal — Attempts to induce Youtsey to make a " new " confession — Torture at last produces a statement that is satisfactory to the prosecution — My own position becomes more grave 237

CHAPTER XXXVI Howard's third trial

Cecil's remarkable testimony — Youtsey tells a long story, but fails to connect me with the so-called conspiracy to kill Senator Goebel — Admits having perjured himself, when confronted with affidavits — Is again convicted and sentenced 246

CHAPTER XXXVH

MY THIRD TRIAL

Death of my father — I am not permitted to attend his funeral — Judge Robbins supplants Judge Cantrill — Another packed jury — Youtsey and Cecil testify against me 253

CHAPTER XXXVni

CONDEMNED

My closing argument in behalf of myself — Crowds listen to my review of the case, in which I arraign the prosecution — Jury, however, finds me guilty, attaches the death penalty, and I am sentenced to be hanged — Appeal to the higher court 259

CHAPTER XXXIX

WHERE MY CASE RESTS

PAGE

Tragic end of T. C. Campbell and peaceful death of former Governor Brown — Court of appeals for the third time declares my conviction illegal and unfair and grants me a new trial — I am awaiting the return of reason and justice 265

CHAPTER XL

Conclusion

My story written under difficulties — I am surrounded by criminals of all degrees — Noise and impertinent curiosity, instead of privacy — Five years in prison and still no final determination of my case — An awakening of the people at hand 271

APPENDICES

Appendix A Affidavit of Finley B. Anderson . . . 279

Appendix B Affidavit of Robert Noakes 283

Appendix C My Address to the Jury During My Third

Trial 295

Appendix D Instructions Asked, and Instructions

Given, During My First Trial . . . 469

Appendix E Correspondence Between Governors Dur-

bin and Beckham 478

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Caleb Powers Frontispiece

Members of My Family 50

In My Earlier Days 64 ,

William Goebel 7^

Goebel's Home in Covington 90

Colonel "Jack" Chinn 100

Goebel and Chinn with Members of the Legislature . . 112

Scenes in Frankfort 124

A Plan of the Capitol Grounds I34

On the Capitol Grounds I44

The Grand Jury 168

Some of the Others Indicted 186

Robert Franklin 198

The Judges During My Trials 234

Scenes in My Quarters in Louisville Jail 272

CHAPTER I

My reasons for writing this story — My ancestors — My life as a boy in the Kentucky mountains — Our removal to Brush Creek

One of the masters of literature has said that a book for which the author feels an apology necessary should never see the light. It is in full agreement with this sentiment that my present task is begun, admitting, though, that if there is any book for which the author is tempted to apologize, it is one of an autobiographical character. When, however, an autobiography is written for the purpose of promulgating the truth, of putting before the public facts which have been misstated, distorted, misrepresented — especially in a case where life and honor are involved — there should be no hesitation on the part of the writer, even though the ego is more conspicuous than modesty might desire. Thoreau says in his Walden: *' I would not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well." Let his excuse be mine. It is impossible to eliminate self from an autobiography ; equally impossible to present certain facts and ideas in other than the first person.

I

Realizing all this, and more, I have decided to put before the reading public, just as though I were relating it of another, an account of such periods of my life as seem to be of interest, knowing that whatever value it may possess is not intrinsic, but comes of the unprecedented conditions and circumstances which have forced me into becoming a somewhat conspicuous figure in the criminal and political history of my state. Feeling that all the environments, ambitions and circumstances that affected my early life have a bearing upon my present position, I relate them as they recur to my memory. The charm of reading consists in recalling to mind what is already known. Literature is a confession.

My father, Amos Powers, was born December seventeenth, 1840, and was reared on Patterson Creek, Whitley County, Kentucky. About twenty miles distant, my mother, whose maiden name was Elizabeth Perkins, was born about seven years before, and spent her childhood and youth. The name of my paternal grandfather was Jesse Powers; the name of my mother's father was Thomas Perkins. Both were originally from Virginia, and on the way to the promising West, they stopped and cast their lot and fortune among the people of that slandered region known as the mountains of Kentucky. My grandfather, Jesse Powers, was killed during the Civil War, fighting for the preservation of the Union. My other grandfather, Thomas Perkins, enlisted in the same cause ; he held no rank in the army, wanted none, and was always considered a genial comrade and an allround good fellow. He was married twice, and had by his first marriage a large family, consisting of three sons, Wiley, Sterling and Peter, and three daughters, Nancy, Margaret and my mother. There were no children by the second marriage. Thomas Perkins was a slaveholder at the beginning of the Civil War, but liberated his negroes before he became a volunteer in the Union Army. My uncle Caleb, for whom I was named, is the only brother my father had ; they had one sister, Katherine. My uncle Caleb is an unostentatious, level-headed man, of a cool and calculating disposition. Neither he nor my father ever sought office. Both my father's and mother's people have led lives of comparative obscurity, rarely seeking political preferment ; but, when they sought it, they were generally successful. A number of them from time to time have been elected to county and district offices.

In the early days the mountains of Kentucky afforded few advantages, and not many of my ancestors obtained more than a common-school education ; but, with rare exceptions, the kinspeople of my mother, who were numerous, were men and women of exceedingly strong character, possessed of fine native ability, and took an active part in local affairs, while one of my uncles, Peter Perkins, was, at the time of his death, a man of considerable means.

My mother has been married twice, and by her first marriage had two children, Uriah and Nancy Blakeley. After her first husband lost his life in the Civil War, she lived several years a widow, and married my father August second, 1867. As a result of that marriage there are four children, John Lay, Katherine, Rebecca and myself. I am the oldest, and was born February first, 1869, in Whitley County, Kentucky, on the waters of what is known as Patterson Creek. My brother and sisters were born in Knox County, Kentucky, where my parents moved when I was less than a year old. My brother was born March third, 1871 ; my sisters, Katherine and Rebecca, March twenty-sixth, 1876, and June eighteenth, 1880, respectively. Some of my egotistic kinsmen have, upon a few occasions, stoutly maintained that we are descendants of Hiram Powers, the sculptor, and therefore related to the wife of President Fillmore, who was a Miss Abigail Powers, a descendant of Walter Powers. But as to the fact of these relationships, I am not prepared to speak. Be the relationships as they may, the chasing of pedigree is a harmless diversion, whether a man has much or little to chase. I leave mine here. Yesterday's triumphs belong to yesterday.

My father devoted his life to the farm and the education of his children. He always regretted that he did not adopt the law as a profession ; consequently it was natural that from my boyhood his ambition was that I should be a lawyer. He began to train me early, and entered me in the public school of Knox County in my fifth year. Our home was two or three miles from the school-house, so I traveled that distance every day, along a country road, down Poplar Creek Valley to the country school, in search of some learning and not a little fun.

I remember well the old log house in which my education was begun. It had one window and one door ; the logs were hewn oak ; the benches were saplings split in the middle; auger holes were bored through the ends, into which legs were pushed in order to hold them up in the form of a bench, and these benches were placed against the wall, which served as a back. The floor was of large, hewn poplar puncheons. The fireplace had a large open mouth that could have swallowed half the pupils without difficulty.

I remember taking an active part in the games, sports and mischief that went on at school. I recall, particularly, an incident in which I figured a little too conspicuously for my own peace of mind and body. After painting my face and hands with pokeberry juice, I walked into the school-room during study hours to witness the effect of my appearance upon the pupils, and forthwith felt the effect upon myself. My teacher soon persuaded me, with the assistance of a long beech limb, which he kept near-by, to go to the mill-pond and wash off the purple dye with which I had adorned myself. In fact, I was frequently corrected during the early days of my school life, but as I stood well in my classes, this in a great measure palliated my wrong-doing; and I escaped the teacher's correcting rod in many instances where I merited it.

It was during these days, and before I was thirteen years of age, that I fell desperately in love — at least, I thought I did, which served the purpose quite as well. The object of my affection was a sweet, mildtempered little girl of about my own age, who brought me candies and apples, and with whom I walked home on my way from school. Young though she was, she never hesitated to declare publicly that she was my sweetheart, and that we would marry when we were " big enough." As these assertions reflected my own sentiments I felt quite gratified at her bravery in so courageously declaring them. She met me at the gate of life, and I thought if I could but cling to her skirts, she would take me to Heaven. It was my firm determination to marry her, and I possibly might have done so had not my father, with unfeeHng disregard for our romance, moved from that section of the county. I did not wish to go away; I preferred to stay in the old place where I could be near, and occasionally see, my sweetheart ; but fate was inexorable.

Our new home was on a farm of about five hundred acres, on Brush Creek, Knox County, Kentucky, where my mother still resides. We had been there nearly two years before I again saw the object of my admiration. During these two years, I had often thought of going to see her; but I was too young to think of going a-courting, and, as I had no business in her locality, I could only bide my time. Finally, I had an opportunity to attend the church of her neighborhood. Arriving there one Sunday, I awaited her coming with much impatience, but at last my eye fell on her. I remember that there were five ministers present on that day ; and, as was the custom in this part of the country at that time, they all took part in the service, so it can be readily imagined that the ceremony was not short. All these preachers were what might perhaps be called uneducated men, and their discourses were phrased in homely verbiage, but what they said was nevertheless earnest and forceful.

Two of these gentlemen wore jean trousers, cottonade shirts, and brogan shoes. The men of the congregation, with few exceptions, had on rough, country apparel ; while the women present wore sunbonnets, calico dresses, large aprons and other paraphernalia to match, or intended to match. As is still customary in the mountains of Kentucky, nearly the whole congregation lingered about the church door and in the churchyard, after the services, to exchange friendly greetings. It was in the churchyard, then, that I met the sweetheart of my school-days. Surely this was not the same girl I had loved so devotedly two years before ! I scarcely knew her ; she scarcely knew me. She was changed. She was no longer trusting and confiding in her manner, but shy and self-conscious — as elusive as the ripples that play hide-and-seek over the bosom of the placid lake. Her brown eyes sparkled more brilliantly, her dark hair was carefully arranged, her face was none the less beautiful, but it was not the face I had known. Lovers discover subtle changes, while time and distance only too frequently dissipate love, as the sun dissipates the morning dew. I suppose I was not prepared to find her almost grown into womanhood, and was consequently disappointed. She was no longer my ideal. I no longer loved her.

The crowd soon dispersed up and down the country road ; some went across the paths through the fields, some on horseback, some on muleback, some afoot. Some horses carried one person, others two, and not a few bore even heavier burdens. As the members of this little congregation departed for their homes, or the homes of their neighbors, *' How is your crop? " " Come to see us," and " How are all at home ? " were remarks frequently heard. Soon all were gone, and I was left alone in the deserted churchyard. I felt lonely, for I knew no one very well except my sweetheart, and I knew her no more.

For a few moments I was left in reverie. The sluggish waters of Poplar Creek crept by me near at hand; the shadows from the tall oaks standing in the churchyard protected me from the burning rays of the sun. Two tall mountain peaks rose on either side of the creek ; there were corn-fields in the bottomlands, corn-fields on the hillsides, but I was thinking little of stream, or sun, or growing corn. My thoughts were not of these. It is said that there is something in the surroundings of the mountaineer, — the solitude of the mountains, the close and constant intercourse with nature, — which causes him, at an earlier age, to take a more serious view of life than do those who dwell in less elevated lands. Be that as it may, I question whether, at any age, my disappointment could be more acute than on that quiet Sunday as I stood in the silent churchyard, looking at the past and future. A boyish dream was then and there left behind, and though I had perhaps no definite idea or plan for the future, yet I began to wonder, in a vague way, what it might bring forth. In this mood, half-melancholy, half-retrospective, I mounted my horse and made my way back to my home.

Chapter II

I matriculate at Union College — The college debate — My first oratorical effort — I teach my first school

My father's farm was, and still is, a very good one for the section of the country in which it lies. He always kept it in an excellent state of cultivation, retaining several tenants on the place. Plowing corn, chopping weeds, raking hay and doing a thousand and one chores about the farm, made up my occupation until the fall school began ; and, let me say it in my own favor, I worked as well, possibly better, when my father was not looking at me as I did when he was. In his presence, I made footprints on the sands of time, plowing up and down Brush Creek bottom. I continued this at intervals until I was fifteen years of age. After that I worked but little on the farm. From the time we had moved to Brush Creek, I had been less wayward in school, and had confined myself closely to study, so that before I was fourteen years of age I had completed Ray's Practical Arithmetic, and had almost completed Elementary Algebra.

A short time before I was sixteen years old, I matriculated in Union College, at Barboursville. I was somewhat small for my years, had lived all my life in the country, among country people, and knew very little about town or city life. It had always appeared to me that the towns and cities had a superfluity of folk. I had often wondered how people in these places made their living. I had been in Barboursville, my home town, on a number of occasions, and the people, as it then seemed to me, were all idle and well-dressed. I did not understand how this could be.

It was among these idle, well-dressed people that my father had decided to send me to school. The principal hotel-keeper of the place, Mr. W. B. Anderson, was an old friend of my father's, and to his house I was sent to board. He gave me a small up-stairs room, which I shared with two other college students. These were two of the leading spirits of the college, and they proceeded to initiate me rather rapidly. As a beginning, the morning after my arrival, they escorted me up to the college, and introduced me to Professor Hartford P. Grider, president of the school. He was a large, frank-faced, kind-hearted man, who seemed to realize at once that I was an inexperienced boy from the country, and needed his sympathy and guidance. When, from the little bag in which I carefully carried them, I pulled the books I used in the country school, he very kindly told me that these text-books were not used at the college, and that I should have to purchase others — a thing which struck me as something of an infringement of a boy's rights ; for I had been accustomed to use whatever text-books I desired, or that chanced to be convenient. I saw that the college rules were evidently different from those of the country school, so I reluctantly bought a new set of books, and began my school career anew.

When the professor assigned me a patent desk (the

MY FIRST SPEECH ii

first I had ever seen) the eyes of every student in the room were fixed upon me. I was a new boy in the school. That I was from the country, my dress and appearances clearly indicated. Society punishes, not those who sin, but those who fail to conceal it, and my sin was apparent, for I was countrified beyond concealment. I fancied that a goodly number of my future companions looked at me sneeringly. I was not one of them, or had not been until a few moments before, and it struck me they were not particularly proud of their new acquisition. Taking this view of the situation, I did not care in the least whether they were glad or sorry to have me. I was there, and I meant to stay. At the first recess the boys and I had it out, as boys will, but after this all was smooth sailing. Through the persuasion of my room-mates, E. B. Hemphill and John C. Main, I joined the literary society the first day I was at college. This was a new feature of school life to me ; and it was the first society of the kind of which I had ever been a member. I was selected as one of the judges of the discussion which was to take place that night, and, in consequence, felt that I was being promoted rather rapidly. The society was to give a public entertainment the following night, but it became known on the night of my initiation into the society that the leader on the negative side of the debate could not participate in the discussion. After several unsuccessful attempts to fill the vacancy, my name was finally suggested, and I was selected. I was lacking in the elements of caution and prudence, so I accepted, without really knowing what was to be done on the occasion. I did not know that the whole town would be invited, and that it would certainly come. I supposed the program would be similar to the one I had just seen rendered, and I was quite willing to take part in an affair of that kind, for I regarded it as a source of improvement. I was there to learn all that could be learned, as I saw it at that time.

At length I began to inquire of my schoolmates something about the nature of the coming entertainment. They told me, with a lightness of manner which ill accorded with my feehngs, that the event in which I was to figure so conspicuously was to be a public performance in which the town-folk took great interest. They said that the legal and medical fraternity would turn out en masse ; that the business interests of the place demanded that the business men and their wives and daughters, by their presence, should lend encouragement to the school ; that practical fathers and interested mothers would be there to judge, by what they saw and heard, the school's fitness as a place to which they might send their sons and daughters ; and that the elite of Barboursville would be present, because of the amusement the occasion would afford. Every town in America has its " smart set."