A Family Lynching

          “Why is that limb  in the closet next to the front door?” was a question I asked my Grandmother “Mama” Stowe in the 1940s.  That question would always lead to her abrupt change in the subject.  On the other hand, my family was dedicated to both written and oral history.  The cardboard boxes of paperwork  curated and passed down from generation to generation currently residing in my library  attest to this. One of my greatest sources of oral family history was my Great Aunt “Auntie” Owen (Emma Eliza Read Owen 1843-1947).

 

Photo at the Elms.  Standing Mrs. Rosie Read (Mama Stowe) boy is Noel Read Stowe,

seated Mrs. Emma Owen (Auntie) on her 100th birthday ( R. Stowe photo Dec 3 1943)

                When I was four or five it was my job and responsibility to drag “Auntie's” back across her bedroom floor every 30 minutes.  She would have a coal fire in her grate everyday of the year, including July and August and would rock closer and closer to the fire. Auntie, who lived to be nearly 104 years old, was a sister of my Great Grandfather Dr. Andrew Read.  When she was in her late 90s and before the onset of dementia, Auntie described to me, in detail, life in Talbot County in the second half of the 19^th and early 20^th Century.

                                        Daniel Grant Owen Family Home (R. Stowe photo 1946)

                When my Great Aunt Sarah Beaufort Read Owen (1839-1887) died my Great Uncle Dan married her sister, Emma Eliza Read.  In some cases, as in other families in the south, my family practiced a sororate. That is the custom that a widower should marry his deceased wife’s sister if she was unmarried.

In the late 1800s my cousin, Miss Sallie Emma Owen (1871-1896), daughter of Great Uncle Dan Owen and “Auntie’s” sister Great Aunt Sallie Read Owen, was murdered by a young dentist, Dr. Will Ryder.  Miss Sallie Emma and her sister, Lizzie Mae Owen (1874-1946), were both visiting at the

     Sallie Emma Owen (R. Stowe collection, Jabes Art Gallery, Auburn, AL 1800s)

 

John McCoy home in Talbotton, GA.  Earlier, Dr. Ryder had become smitten with Sallie Emma and was very jealous of her friends.  After attending the Talbotton Methodist Church in the evening Sallie Emma and Gus Persons returned to the McCoy home and because of the chilly evening air, were seated in front of the fire.  Shortly after that Jennie Beall, Emma’s sister (Lizzie Mae Owen) and Mary Matthews  joined them.  At about 9:00 Dilly Canty, a black man, saw someone standing in

Daniel Grant Owen and Sallie Read Owen.  Parents of Cousin Sallie Emma Owen

 (, R. Stowe Collection, Jabes Art Gallery Auburn, Alabama 1870)  

 

the shadows near the front door of the home.  Just after 9 PM there were two blasts from a shotgun and Miss Sally Emma slumped in her chair.  She had been killed instantly.  Ryder then raced back to his room at the Western House Hotel where he gulped down a handful of pills in an attempt to kill himself. From the rooming house Ryder fled to Pearson’s pond where he was later discovered partially conscious, muddy, bloody and concealed by lily pads.  About midnight, Dr. E. L. Bradwell, in an attempt to save Ryder, pumped his stomach and treated him for poisoning.  After a partial recovery he was thrown in jail in Columbus, GA.  The Grand Jury met and he was indicted for the murder of Sallie Emma.  Then followed a trial in the Talbot County Court house.  The ensuing trial consisted of both an outstanding prosecutor and defense under the direction of Judge William Butt.  Feelings ran high in that part of west-central Georgia.  Throughout the trial Ryder was kept under heavy guard by Talbot County Sheriff Burrell.  The State of Georgia vs. W. L. Ryder was covered region-wide by both the Atlanta Constitution and the Tabotton New Era.  The defense stated that many of these articles were inflammatory. 

                In one of these, a reporter describing the scene of the tragedy for the constitution wrote “Everywhere was blood, the bright warm, accusing blood of the most popular woman in the county.  The assassin (Ryder) did his work well.  Every drop of blood drained from the heart of his victim – it was in frightful evidence everywhere – on the carpet, chairs, pictures, everywhere.  With pitiful insistence it flowed about the floor – until to the horrified eyes looking on – it seemed to creep out the door, into the street, onto the courthouse nearby, into the great iron safe where the statute books are, and there write its fearful protest.”  Other reports called the killing “a senseless crime,” the “act of a madman,” and “murder by a jealous suitor.”  The front page story in the Constitution on April 7^th started off, “Never in the criminal history of Georgia has a chapter more sensational, more dramatic or more to be deplored been written than the one that was traced here last night.  Love, jealousy, murder and an attempt at suicide were the features of the horrible story …” Many other news stories referred to Ryder as the “murderer” though no witness ever identified him as being at the scene at the time of the shooting. (There was a Land:pp. 173-174)

 

Throughout the trial he was kept in the Columbus jail being moved back and forth to trial in Talbotton by Sheriff Butt and a squad of deputies. The trial was considered one of the largest in the history of Georgia courts.  After deliberation, the foreman brought back the verdict, which made the front pages of papers throughout the state “ROPE FOR RYDER”:

 

                The jury was out for a very short while when its foreman rapped on the door.  Returning to the jury box, Judge Butt intoned the usual query “Gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?”  When the foreman answered yes he told Sol. Gilbert to publish the verdict.  “We the jury find the defendant guilty.  This September 26, 1896. J. E. Garrett, foreman.”

                Without a recommendation of mercy, Dr. Ryder knew this meant death by hanging.  He looked ghostly white, his eyes glued to the floor as the verdict was read.  Judge Butt broke the deadly silence. “Bring the prisoner forward.”

                Dr. Ryder was helped from his chair by two guards.  As he faced the judge, he did not appear to hear or realize what was happening.  He never blinked his eyes when Judge Butt concluded the sentence with the words “and on January 15, 1897 be hanged by your neck until dead.” (There was a Land: 178)

 Upon hearing the verdict there was a clamor among Ryder’s friends that the sentence was illegal and demand made for a new trial because of errors in the original.  The new trial was scheduled for July 19,1897.  Sometime was spent during the initial trial investigating the possibility that Dr. Ryder was insane when he killed Miss Owen.  There were additional problems with the trial.  Judge Butt became sick and was replaced by Judge John C. Harn. Also, during the proceedings Ryder had attempted suicide numerous times.  In the late 1800s Georgia law required that when a trial ended in a capital conviction the guilty had to be executed in not less than 30 days – or more than 60 days.  The judge’s sentence took longer than 60 days to carry out and since the guilty had not been executed by that date a mistrial was declared.  Friends and family of the murdered girl decided that enough time had passed since the beginning of the trial, the guilty verdict, and the ultimate sentence. They became enraged and decided to take Ryder’s execution into their own hands.  The accused was transported by buggy from the courthouse to Waverly Hall where he was to be put on the train with his guards to travel back to his cell in Columbus.    A mob formed with the intent of overtaking the buggy and administering some quick Georgia justice.  The mob caught up with the buggy on the Alabama Road (Hwy. 36), which runs to Thomaston, outside Woodland, GA.  The mob initially planned to take Ryder back to the McCoy house where the murder had occurred and lynch him there.  The approach of Sheriff Richards and 20 deputies called for a change in plans.  Ryder was taken to a tree near the John M. Willis farm house.  His shirt was covered with blood where hand cuffs had cut into his wrists. The mob then tied a rope  around his legs  and another length of rope was made into a hangman’s noose.  In preparation for hanging he was allowed a final prayer. They then put Ryder on the shoulders of mob members. Ryder was then dropped and allowed to hang.

                Later, Dr. Ryder’s father and brothers claimed the body.  Subsequently, Pinkerton detectives identified members of the mob:
 

                After two days of investigation, the Grand Jury brought in its report on Tuesday afternoon, September 14^th 1897.  It simply said, “After investigating this matter diligently and examining a large number of witnesses, we have not secured evidence enough to indict anyone.”

                Thus ended the tragedy that affected, in one way or another, practically every citizen of Talbot County. (This was Their Land: 180)

 

 Sallie Owen's Grave in the Owen Family Cemetery, Pleasant Hill, Georgia (R. Stowe Photo 2006)

                It was more than 70 years after originally asking my Grandmother about the limb in the closet, that a cousin asked me if there was a liimb at my house, to which I said yes.  She also asked me about the murder of my cousin Sallie Emma and the resulting lynching of Dr. Ryder of which I had no knowledge.  This branch of the hanging tree was used as a reminder of the horrible series of events that had happened almost 100 years before.

The major sources for this Blog are:
The Atlanta Constitution Newspaper.
Davidson, William H. A Rockaway in Talbot (Vols. I-IV – 1893-1996).
Owen Family. Oral history and photographs.
“The Ryder Murder Case” in There was a Land. A Story of Talbot County, Georgia and its People. Robert H. Jordan 1971.
Stowe Family. Oral history and photographs.
The Talbotton New Era. Vol. LXXI Talbotton, Georgia, Thursday. Dec 3, 1943
http://www.columbusgeorgiaonline.com/cgo-features/ins-outs-of-harris-county/murder-talbot-county-part-one/
http://www.columbusgeorgiaonline.com/harris_county21htm

Incident at Snyder's Bluff

 

DARING ACT AT COWAN’S BATTERY ON SNYDER'S BLUFF DURING THE SIEGE OF VICKSBURG

 

                My Grandmother, Mrs. Rosie Read Stowe, was the Granddaughter of Col. James F. Dowdell, commander of the 37^th Alabama during the siege of Vicksburg.  This account, sent to Mrs. Stowe on January 23 1903, was either typed on Flatau Manufacturing Company letterhead.  It was in a box of her papers she left me in the 1950s.  This account by Louis Spencer Flatau was read by my Grandmother at a meeting of the Robert E. Lee Chapter No. 192, Opelika, Alabama, United Daughters of the Confederacy. She was historian of the Chapter and at the end of the letter there is a handwritten note that specifies that the letter was “written for and read by Mrs. I. N. Stowe”.  Since Flatau’s version did not copy well I have provided a transcription of the account. 

                Cpl. Louis Spencer Flatau, known to his friends as “Spence”, was with Cowan’s Battery, Featherston’s Brigade, Loring’s Division at the battle of Snyder’s Bluff which was on the Yazoo River just north of Vicksburg.  Cowan’s was part of the confederate works.   

                Gen. Grant had ordered Gen. Sherman to engage in a feint on the Yazoo River which entered the Mississippi immediately north of the bluffs at Vicksburg.  This was intended to distract Confederate troops and keep them from reinforcing those at Grand Gulf and Bruinsburg where he was actually planning on crossing the river south of Vicksburg.   The bluff was a very defensible position for the confederate forces and they were well entrenched with plenty of artillery.

                Mr. Flatau, while serving as a Cpl. at Snyder’s Bluff was later known as Captain Flatau.  He was born in San Augustine, Texas and later served as a steamboat pilot on the Red and Mississippi Rivers.  However, he is best known as an inventor, holding patents and at the time of communication with my Grandmother he was an officer with Flatau’s Weather Roofing and Fire Proof paint.  Mr. Flatau was living in St. Louis when he died in 1920.

                The use of this letter caused me some concern.  I did not want to rehash a historical account that was widespread.  I did a diligent search including the late 19^th and early 20^th Century Confederate Veteran magazine, the Internet and period histories.  A similar account was discovered in the February 25, 1903 copy of the Yonker’s Statement.  While the facts were the same, the version contained there is either paraphrased or placed in quotation marks.  Also, a short blurb concerning activities at Cowan’s Battery appeared in “Reminisces of the Boys in Blue and Gray, 8601-1865”, edited by Mamie Young 1912.

 

 

 

"One of the bravest and most daring acts that was done during the war, as told by L. S. Flatau of Texas, a member of Cowan’s Battery of Vicksburg, Miss., and who is now Chief of Ordinance on General W. L. Cobell’s Staff, United Confederate Veterans of Texas.

                This act was performed by a Federal soldier whose name was Allen.  Flatau with many friends in his battery and the infantry support was an eye witness.  As related by him, the Confederate forces were massed at Snyder’s Bluff above Vicksburg on the Yazoo River, this being the best way for General Grant to land his forces so as to invest Vicksburg.  His transports were loaded with soldiers and came up the Yazoo River accompanied by their gun boats so as to make the landing and fight their way around the city.  He made a feint at the same time at Bruinsburg.  We anticipated the attack by the way of Snyder’s Bluff, some miles above the city on the Yazoo.  We were well entrenched and arrayed and anxious for the attack, hoping that it would be made by this route.  My Battery was in a fine position, supported by Wall’s Legion and part of Hebert’s Louisiana Brigade, is my best recollection. The Yankee transports, accompanied by the gun boats, were in full view of us across an old but beautiful farm in the bottom, we being in line of battle in our works at the foot of the hills, about a mile from the river with nothing in the way between us and the enemy whatever, except right near the banks of the river was a considerable growth of heavy timber.  They landed between seven and ten thousand men from the transports, formed in line as though they were preparing to advance and charge our works.  When we were just expecting them to make this move, there was a horseman moved out from their line and rode direct to out center down an old turn-road in the field in plain view of every one in our line of battle. This old turn-road was straight and level with no obstruction whatever, as he left the Yankee line they fired volley after volley, as it were, at the rider, but he rode direct to us at break-neck speed, and when within 150 yards of us he pulled his hat from his head and whipped the beautiful animal he rode with his hat, and at the top of his voice cried “Hurray for Kentucky!”  The animal he was riding, coming at this fearful speed, jumped the breastworks within ten feet of my gun and never left her tracks.  She was the very perfection of horse flesh, a dark roan color, and as she stood breathing in her tracks with her nostrils expanding and contracting so that thin that the Sun shone through them like silk, I thought the rider and the horse was the most beautiful picture I ever beheld, and he was one man in the world I envied at the time.  He wore a blue Kentucky Jeans suit and had buckled about him a beautiful pair of ivory handled Remington pistols.  His name was engraved on the pistols, is how I knew his name was Allen.  When he landed, as it were, he exclaimed in a loud voice: “Helloo, Boys, how are you?  I have longed to join you, this was rather a desperate feat, but I took the opportunity, and I am with you.  God bless all of you, how are you anyhow?”  Our boys began to crowd around him, and in a few minutes there were more than one hundred of us looking and talking with this newcomer.  One of the officers came up and ordered us to disperse or we would draw the fire of the enemy, and of course a shot from the gun boats fired at us might have been effective.

                In the meantime, one of my company, Joe Willis, asked to look at one of the pistols.  Willis had the pistol in his hand and many of us were admiring it when we saw the patrol guard coming to take this deserter, as it appeared to be, to headquarters so that he might be interrogated by our officers, but he with an eye like an eagle saw them approaching and began to get very uneasy and restless, as he appeared to me.  His bridle and saddle were of the Mexican make, made of the very bet I ever saw.  He wore a beautiful pair of spurs, and as this guard approached and came within 30 or 40 feet of the crowd, we being attracted by the guard to some extent, did not pay as close attention to him as might have been and not in the least did we think what his next movement would be, but quicker than a flash, he pulled his left bridle rein and spurred his right foot into the flanks of this beautiful animal, and she leaped the works like the flight of a bird and hit the ground on the other side running, and after he had made some 60 or 80 yards distance from our line, he threw himself over quarterly on his saddle and swung back over the quarters of the animal whipping her with his broad-brimmed hat and cried at the top of his voice “Hurray for Kentucky! By God!” and repeated this as far as we could hear.

                None of the men thought of a gun or firing at this dashing, bold rider until he was some 250 yards back towards the Yankee line.  Then there were two men just on our right who opened fire on him with Springfield rifles, but I shouted to them at the top of my voice to not shoot that man.  He rode without any danger from our side whatsoever, save three shots that were fired, and as he neared the Yankee lines, they rent the very heavens with their yells and every gun boat opened on our line and our crowded position, broadside after broadside until they shook the very earth around us with bursting shell, and our friend was back in the lines and had performed the dangerous feat under the direction of General Grant.  He rode into our works to satisfy this great officer that we were in our stronghold and anticipated his landing and attack by the way as it was the best for him in every respect and so we thought beyond a doubt that he would make his way around Vicksburg.  It would have been easy going with us to have repulsed him and driven him back had he advanced this field against our splendid position, but after the return of this rider, I suppose it was about 40 or 50 minutes at least, we thought it gave him time so that the Grapevine telegraph or signal corps could send the message to Bruinsburg below Vicksburg to make the attack or advance from that point; in fact it was only a short while until we heard the guns thundering in that direction, and so Grant instead of making the attack and surrounding Vicksburg by the way of Snyder’s Bluff made his landing and advance by the way of Bruinsburg, and the next morning early many of us were ordered to meet him.  We met him and fought him all the way to Bakers Creek or Champions Hill, where we made the greatest fight and we were repulsed and driven into Vicksburg and stood the long and fearful siege.

                Jow Willis, my comrade who kept the pistol of the dashing rider as he rode off, owned and had this pistol some few years ago at a meeting of our old Battery at the Piazza Hotel, in that city. 

                This shows you what a fearless man can do in any country, where he has the nerve, the judgment and rides the right kind of stock.  I have often wished to meet this man since the war, for this is certainly a piece of unwritten history that should be written. The very name of Kentucky or Missouri was music in our ears because we loved them.  That grand old Orphan Brigade of Kentucky and the Missourians who cast their lot with us were part of us, and they were all most dear to us, and I know they were all thoroughbred stock and of the best blood, and this daring, dashing rider and representative of the Federal Army must have had the same kind of blood pulsate through his veins".

 

 

 

Sources:

1) Between the Lines", The Yonkers Statesmen (newspaper), February 25, 1903

2) Pioneer Texan Dies After Long Illness in St. Louis Hospital.  Mortuary Records. Galveston Daily News, July 15, 1920.

3) Letter to Mrs. I. N. Stowe written for and read at a meeting of the Robert E. Lee Chapter of the United Daughters of the Confederacy, January 23, 1903.

4) Internet Search

5) The Campaign for Vicksburg Vols. I, II and III. Edwin Cole Bearss 1986.  Morningside House, Inc.

 

 

This is a view of Snyder's Bluff from the other side of the Yazoo River