Friday, June 2, 2023

The Hight-Sweetin Double Murder Case, Ina, Illinois, 1924.

The Lawrence Milton Hight and Elsie Sweetin double murder case was one of the most sensational to ever hit Jefferson County, Illinois. Newspapers all over the country sent reporters to cover the case, folk songs were written about the illicit love affair and resulting murders and special trains carried spectators to the trial. 
Reverend Lawrence Milton Hight, September 29, 1924
Early in the summer of 1924, the Rev. Dr. Lawrence M. Hight was finishing up services in the tiny Methodist church of Ina, Illinois. He was a circuit rider, and Ina was one of four churches he served in the Southern Illinois area known as “Little Egypt,” presumably because it came to a point in Cairo (pronounced “KAY-ro”). When he closed his Bible and stepped down from the pulpit, Hight took out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. Under the cover of the hanky, he quickly winked at the attractive 31-year-old mother of three in the front row. Elsie Sweetin, looking away from the pastor, raised her right hand and rested it over her heart. The pastor lowered his head in an almost imperceptible nod and hurried to take his place at the front door to shake hands with the departing congregation.

The wink and the nod, subtle as they were, did not go unnoticed. Tongues began wagging. Ina was a small village, not more than 400 souls, with a railway station and a few ramshackle one-story shops.  The Methodist church was the only place of worship in town. It was, in short, the kind of place where a clandestine love affair, especially one involving the sole clergyman, could not remain a secret for long. The people were of old pioneer stock who crossed the Cumberland Gap with Daniel Boone. “The Ina villagers are a people strangely taciturn and unemotional,” the Chicago Tribune noted. “Their eyes are cold.”

Hight was small in stature. He once raised horses in Johnson County, Illinois, and rode as a jockey until the Lord called him to the pulpit. He was a fiery preacher with penetrating blue eyes. Sometimes at revivals, when the spirit truly got hold of him, he would laugh hysterically, and the laughter was contagious. He would soon have the whole gathering giggling like children, but no one louder than the firecracker preacher. He and his wife, Anna, had recently taken up residence in Ina’s parsonage with two of their three children. They also had a married daughter. The minister’s wife was a large woman, weighing more than 200 pounds, sensitive about the appearance she made standing next to her jockey-sized husband, so they were seldom seen together in public.

Elsie Sweetin was of medium height and weight, neither stout nor slender, the papers said, “more average than pretty.” Her features were regular: a square chin, a straight, distinctive nose, bright white teeth, and clear gray eyes. She didn't use much make-up but had a sparkling, upbeat personality that made her popular in the community.

Elsie had a rough upbringing. She began working at 11 at various odd jobs and continued to work until she married Wilford Sweetin at 17 years old. They lived and worked on a farm for a while, then Wilford took a job at a mine in Mason, over an hour’s drive away, and moved his wife and three boys into the village, renting a small yellow cottage alongside the railroad tracks. A loyal wife and a loving mother, Elsie’s reputation was spotless.

Wilford "Jack" Sweetin, who worked at Nason Mine, sustained a slight injury to his arm when some mine timbers collapsed on July 16, 1924.

The following day, being off work, he accompanied his wife Elsie on a trip to Benton, Illinois, to do some errands. Elsie did the driving. While in Benton, they went to a drug store where they each had a Coca-Cola and a dish of vanilla ice cream, then they purchased a sack of candy and some peanuts. On the way home, Wilford got sick to his stomach, and after they arrived Elsie said she wasn't feeling well either and that she was going to lie down while Wilford drove on to Nason to have his arm looked after. 

Later that same day, Elsie went to the store and returned to find her husband in bed and very sick. She called Dr. I. A. Foster and, when Wilford didn't get any better, called Dr. S.D. Harper, the mine doctor from Sesser. After being told that they had both eaten ice cream and chocolate candy, both doctors agreed that Wilford was suffering from ptomaine poisoning. 

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The term Ptomaine Poisoning is caused by any of various amines formed by putrefactive bacteria. Today the illness is called food poisoning.

When Wilford continued to vomit and suffer great pain, Elsie called Dr. John Clinton of Whittington, their family doctor, who gave him morphine shots for pain. A week later. Wilford was still not improving, and Dr. Sam A. Thompson: was called in. He, too, believed it to be ptomaine. 

By Sunday, July 27, ten days after the trip to Benton, Wilford was in critical condition. Frantically, Elsie called Doctors Clinton, Harper, Thompson and Hamilton. The Reverend Lawrence Hight was there also, offering prayers and words of comfort, but on Monday morning at 3:15, Wilford died, at age 41, leaving Elsie a widow with three small children. 
 
The four attending physicians performed an autopsy, observed that Wilford had an enlarged liver and decided that he had probably died of cirrhosis.  

Following a memorial service at the Methodist Church conducted by Rev. Hight, Wilford was buried at Kirk Cemetery the following afternoon. The body was not embalmed. 

Brother Hight preached a great funeral service, proclaiming that Wilford had died a saved man, a Christian. "I converted him on his deathbed, and he gave his soul to God." He concluded the service by saying that he felt unworthy to preach at the funeral. 

Gossip had been going around for some time about Elsie, and the Reverend and neighbors noted on the morning of the funeral that Reverend Hight while sitting with Elsie on her porch swing, was comforting her by rubbing her face, her arms and her breasts. 

After Wilford's death, Elsie clerked in a store, took care of her three boys, and still found time for her church work. In August, she stayed at Bonnie Camp Meeting for a few days. Reverend Hight and his wife Anna were there too. Brother Hight, who had served several churches in Southern Illinois, was much in demand as a speaker. Still, despite his religious fervor, people in Ina continued to wonder about his relationship with Elsie, the beautiful 32-year-old widow woman. 

On Saturday, September 6, after Reverend Hight and his wife returned from a camp meeting at Eldorado, he went to the store and purchased some minced ham to make sandwiches for dinner. He wasn't very hungry, but his wife, who weighed about 200 pounds, had a generous portion. Before long, she and the children began complaining of indigestion. 

By Sunday, she began vomiting and having severe stomach pain. When she was no better by Monday, Hight sent for Dr. John Clinton, who had treated Wilford Sweetin. By Tuesday, Anna was paralyzed from the neck down, and by Thursday was vomiting blood. Dr. Walter Alvis of Benton was called in for a consultation, and both doctors agreed that she was suffering from ptomaine poisoning. 

On September 12, 1924, Anna Windhorst Hight, age 44, passed away. She and Reverend Hight had been married 26 years and had three children. She was then taken to Metropolis, Illinois, her hometown, for burial in Miller Cemetery, near the village of Round Knob. 

Hight returned to Ina to find that his wife's death had created quite a stir. Jesse A. Reese, Jefferson County Coroner, had ordered an investigation that would include an analysis of the contents of Mrs. Hight's stomach. When the report came back from a Chicago laboratory several days later, Reese issued an order for the arrest of Lawrence Hight, charging him with the murder of his wife Anna.  

Hight was taken into custody by Jefferson County Sheriff Grant Holcomb at Tamaroa, Illinois, where he was visiting, and later that same day, Holcomb, Reece and States Attorney Frank G. Thompson searched the Ina, Illinois Parsonage for evidence and a box of arsenic was found. 

At the Mt. Vernon Jail, Hight told newsmen, "I know of no reason why arsenic should be found in my wife's vital organs. If she ever thought of suicide I don't know it. As for the arsenic in my house, I think we have had some in the house ever since I have been Married; we always used it for rat poison. And so far as Mrs. Sweetin is concerned, I never talked to the woman alone in my life."

A jury was quickly assembled, and on September 18, two months after his death, the body of Wilford Sweetin was ordered exhumed. All of Ina waited anxiously for the results to come back from the same Chicago Laboratory. 

The following day Anna Hight's remains were disinterred and certain organs removed to make a more complete case. 

Even though it had been discovered that Hight had purchased poison on three different occasions, twice in Mt. Vernon and once at Benton, he remained very composed through hours of questioning. He said rats were just awful around the parsonage and explained, "They carried off young chickens right in front of our eyes, and I was forced to resort to something stronger." 

Wilford Sweetin's body was exhumed on September 20, 1924, and the vital parts were sent to Dr. McNally for examination, and this appeared to be the minister's only worry. Hight said, "If arsenic is found in that body, I'm afraid I am done for."

Hight whiled away his time in jail singing religious songs, though some folks said he was far too worldly and enjoyed telling risque stories far too much for a man of the cloth. When questioned about his attentions to women, he replied, "I have never had a lustful thought about a woman since I was married.

The report from Dr. McNally's laboratory in Chicago confirmed everyone's Suspicions, Wilford Sweetin had died from arsenic poisoning, not from ptomaine.  Armed with this evidence, Slates Attorney Frank Thompson spent several hours questioning his prisoner. Finally, at 3 am, a reporter ran to get a bible, and Hight was ready to confess.

Hight admitted responsibility for both murders. explaining that he did it to put them out of their misery; he denied that romance between him and Elsie had prompted the murders, saying that there had never been anything between them except that she was one of his flock and a good Christian.  

"I killed my wife," he said to end her suffering. She was dying of ptomaine poisoning, and I only wanted not to see her in such anguish." 
 
After hearing Hight's confession States Attorney Thompson told the press he felt he owed it to the church not to ask for the death penalty, that life imprisonment should be sufficient." 

Since the church leadership was having serious doubts about the impression Rev. Hight might be having on his flock, Reverend C.C. Hall of Mt. Carmel, Superintendent of the Methodist Episcopal Church, called on the self-confessed mercy killer to request the return of his clerical credentials. When admitted to Hight's cell, Rev. Hall urged him to make a full confession for his "spiritual benefit." This had an effect on Hight because he shortly confessed his sins, and this time he implicated Elsie in the murder of her husband.
 
Elsie was arrested the next day but adamantly refused to admit any part in the "love pact" She said, "I can't explain why Hight: named me as the murderer of my husband. He must be a coward, anxious to share guilt with whoever" might be a plausible suspect. His statement about me is a terrible lie." 

She told the newsmen. "This talk of a clandestine love affair is untrue. He came to our house occasionally with milk, but he never showered any attention on me." 

"Once, however," she added self righteously, "in talking to me, he put his hand on my knee, and I rebuked him for it." "Yes," she said, with injured innocence, "I thought he was a good man, sanctimonious and sincere in his church work and spiritually a good man." 

When he was unable to shake Elsie's confidence, Thompson decided to place Hight together in a cell by themselves and to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

Thompson and Sheriff Holcomb heard Hight say, "Elsie, Sweetheart, I am now standing in the light of sanctification. You did your killing first, then I did mine. I have admitted mine and am happy." Then he whispered, "You know you are guilty, I don't think I should take all the blame." 

She replied by gallantly offering to take care of his children while he was in prison. 

No, Elsie," he answered, "I want you to bear this burden with me." Kissing noises were heard from the cell, and as Thompson led Hight away he broke down and said, "I love that woman, and I think she reciprocates that love."

Something reached Elsie, for within the hour, she confessed to her husband's murder. She showed little emotion as she told the following story in a signed confession.

LAWRENCE HIGHT'S JAIL CELL CONFESSION TO REV. C.C. HALL ON SEPTEMBER 22, 1924, CHICAGO TRIBUNE:
"I make this statement to the Rev. C.C. Hall. Mrs Elsie Sweetin and I fell in love and intended to get married. We made arrangements to put her husband, Wilford Sweetin, and my wife, Anna, out of our way. She, Elsie, asked me what to get, and I got arsenic. I brought it it in Benton on July 22. I gave it [the poison] to Mrs. Sweetin. I never gave her husband any arsenic. I said I did because I didn't want to give her away; and after his death it was up to me to put my wife away, according to our pact. I did not intend to do anything until after we moved, but she, my wife, got sick and I did. Lawrence M. Hight

Immediately after this, Sheriff Holcomb was reached on the telephone at Ina. He at once placed Mrs. Sweetin under arrest.

Sheriff Holcomb and Coroner Reece, seated outside the office of the state's attorney, were called in and signed as witnesses. "Now can I sleep?" "Not until you tell us about Sweetin. You killed him, too, didn't you?" 

Agitation was registered plainly on the face of the shrinking clergyman.

"The Sweetins would kill me if I admitted I poisoned Wilford," he cried. "There sits the sheriff," replied Mr. Thompson. "He will tell you, as I tell you, that not on man in this county will put a finger on you. You will answer for you crime only to the court." Hight seemed relieved at the assurance.

"Yes, I killed him," he admitted. "Tell us about that, too. Then you can sleep for a week, if you want to."

A SECOND LAWRENCE HIGHT CONFESSION, CHICAGO TRIBUNE:
"I, Lawrence M. Hight, of my own free will voluntarily, without threat or promises, and having been fully informed of my rights, that what I say may be used against me, make the following statement, that on Sunday morning, July 27, 1924, at the home of Wilford Sweetin, at Ina, Jefferson County, Illinois, I placed some arsenic in a glass of water and gave it to Wilford Sweetin, who drank it. I did it to ease his pain. Elsie Sweetin knwe nothing of this and there was never anything between her and myself in any way." Lawrence M. Hight 

The two confessions were followed by a third, in which the pastor blaimed Mrs. Sweetin for her husband's death.

HANG HIM, SAYS PASTOR, DETROIT, MICHIGAN, SEPTEMBER 23, 1924:
Detroit, Mich. — [Special]
The Rev. Ames Maywood, pastor of Trinity Methodist Episcopal church, had the following to say today concerning the confession of the Rev. Lawrence M. Hight, Methodist pastor of Mount Vernon, Illinois, to the killing of his wife and Wilford Sweetin and to the state's attorney statement that he would not ask for the death penalty because of the cloth. "Hang the Rev. Hight by all means. The state's attorney in absolutely wrong for showing discrimination because of the church. Rev. Hight or any other murderer is a menace to society and society must be protected. If any discrimination is to be shown, let the Almighty God show it when Hight faces his maker. Maudlin sentimentality is influencing our courts and increasing crime tenfold. The Hight case should set the example the Franks case failed to."
 
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Bobby Franks, 14, was murdered by two young men, Nathan Leopold and Richard Loeb, in May 1924.

URBANA DAILY COURIER, SEPTEMBER 25, 1924 HEADLINES:
  • Rev. Hight's Flock Blames the Devil.
  • Church Folk Insist That Satan Caused Their Pastor to Murder.
  • Others Say "Sex," the Jefferson County Authorities claim.
DAILY ILLINI, DECEMBER 25, 1924:
MRS. SWEETIN CONVICTED OF MURDER.
MT. VERNON, Dec. 24— Bitterness, hate and sorrow remained in the heart of Mrs. Elsie Sweetin as she was led from the courtroom today after hearing a jury pronounce her guilty of the murder by poison of her husband, Wilford Sweetin, and sentenced her to 35 years in prison. Her codefendant, Lawrence M. Hight, received a life sentence.

EXCERPTS FROM ELSIE'S CONFESSION
"I noticed in April 1924 that Lawrence Hight had affection for me. My husband had for some time been treating me with lack of love, and about three months ago, Reverend Hight suggested that he get some poison to give my husband, and he would do the same with his wife." 

"At first, I was horrified, but I had such confidence in him that it seemed the right thing to do, and we finally agreed. A week or so before my husband was hurt in the mine at Nason, Lawrence Hight gave me a paper bag with some poison in it and told me to give some to Wilford. Wilford was hurt on the night of July 16, and we went to Benton the following day. While we were there we went in the drug store and had ice cream and a Coca-Cola, and on the way home, I gave him some chocolate candy in which I had mixed some of the poison Hight had given me." 

"Wilford became very ill but later seemed better, so on Tuesday, I gave him some more poison in oatmeal. He seemed to grow a little better again, and after Dr. S.A. Thompson waited on him on Friday, July 25, I gave Wilford the final dose of poison in some tomato soup. He grew much worse and died on July 28th. Every time Mr. Hight came to the house during Wilford's illness, he encouraged me to give "Wilford more poison." 

"I don't know when he poisoned his wife, but she became ill and died, and I supposed that he had poisoned her. Until I became infatuated with Mr. Hight I had always led a blameless life and had been a true wife and mother. That is the truth, so help me, God." 

Following their confessions, Elsie was taken to the Marion County Jail and Hight to the Washington County Jail in Nashville, Illinois. 

When a delegation of three ministers visited Hight in the Nashville Jail he said, "I'm guilty, Elsie Sweetin walked down the church aisle toward me, and power came over me I could not resist." 

Hight also wrote his daughter at Tamaroa and confessed to her how he and Elsie had arranged their clandestine trysts. 

Elsie, also in the mood for confessions, talked to a reporter, and what she said was later used against her. "I wanted love," she said, "and Wilford Sweetin didn't give me the kind I wanted. He was like a g1acier cold and had no words of affection. I married him when I was only sixteen. My family was very poor. And my father left my mother when I was just a few months old and went to Colorado, forgetting all about my mother, my brother Earl and me. We went to Ewing, where Mother took in washings." 

"I was two years old when Mother married again. There were six children, and I was alone. Mother didn't have much time for me. When I was twelve, I had to quit school and go to work as a housemaid. Then I met Wilford and married him." 

"I loved him, and he loved me. The children came, and they were dear. But something was missing. I had been religious, and again I sought to regain that communion with God." 

"God," what a life. Sweetin made good money, $40.00 or $50.00 a week, working at the mine, and he would come home and just go to bed. I wasn't happy." 

"About a year ago, Hight came to town. He was our preacher, and he won my confidence from the start and later won my heart."
 
"Several months later, there was a revival meeting, and Rev. Hight took me and my cousin Eva Milliner who lived next door. When Eva ran back to get her shawl, he said that he loved her and was holding her hands. I went home after the meeting and didn't know what I was doing. When he began winning, my confidence and I began to love him too. But I always remembered that I was married to another man. He told me his wife didn't love him and that he didn't care for her. He was like God to me, and when he told me I didn't love Wilford and that Wilford didn't love me I believed him." 

"At dusk one day, standing on the church steps) he said he couldn't live without me, and if there was no other way, he would get rid of his wife and marry me. I thought of divorce. I prayed to remain a good wife and mother, and God forsook me. I became his slave, and he a king. I worshipped him and thought he could do no wrong."
 
"Another night in church, he said that we had to get rid of them, we had to kill them. I ran down the road. It was terrible, too terrible to think about. The more I tried to forget it, the more it persisted. Then it seemed like I just had to do what he told me, so when he gave me the poison, I put it in my husband's food. It didn't seem terrible anymore. Love was the most important thing no matter what the world said." 

When Sweetin died I wasn't sorry at all, and Pastor Hight preached a good sermon. We had $1,000 insurance, and I paid that on the house and went to work clerking for $6.00 a week, and my family helped out with the boys." 

Then I began to think how much I loved my husband and how good he had been to me. We had been married for sixteen years. I was afraid Hight would poison his wife, and I didn't want him to do it. I didn't want to marry him then. He wasn't God to me anymore, and I got tired of him. My mind came back to me, and I knew he wasn't as good as I thought he was. He was a preacher and should not have put sin in my mind and murder in my heart. I just wanted to think about my children." 

States Attorney Frank Thompson apparently agreed that Hight should have been more of a gentleman, for he changed his mind and told the press that he was going to ask for the death penalty. 

While Elsie was downstairs making her confession. Hight told reporters that when he was introduced to Elsie at the church, he felt himself slipping, and I went the way of the flesh. 

I sinned and went so far as to commit murder. I do not know what had possession of me unless it was the great love we had for each other. 

I learned from others that Mrs. Sweetin did not love her husband. I did not love my wife. She was never satisfied with anything, and I learned from Elsie that her husband was indifferent to her. 

I am just a human being, after all, but since my confession, I am sanctified, and in harmony with God once more, I am happy today. 

I was never a wicked man and committed no great sin until I came to Ina. I've been a preacher for fourteen years, and I have saved 2,500 souls. 134 were saved last year." 

I sincerely regret that I killed my wife and that Mr. Sweetin was killed, but that can't be helped now, and if I must go to the scaffold, I will go like a man." 

Elsie and Rev. Hight both told States Attorney Thompson that passionless married lives drove them together and led them to the plot to poison their mates so they might marry. 

Rev. Hight said, "There is a lesson in this. Marriages must have passionate love as a basis, or there is no happiness." Had I met and married Mrs. Sweetin, our lives would have been unutterably happy. But she married a cold man, and I married that kind of woman.

Hight declared his passion to the press in terms that left little to the imagination. She was hungry for the love I gave her, It was fated, I couldn't help it and neither could she. We met in the little grove behind her house. Night after night, we would go there, and for hours she would lie in my arms, and we would forget everything but each other.

One day Elsie's father-in-law, Lum Sweetin, who was 66 years old and getting too old to rear Elsie's children, accompanied Mr. and Mrs. Thompson and Edwin Rockaway, publisher of the Mt. Vernon Register-News, to the Salem jail to see Elsie. When he asked her if she had given his son poison. Elsie answered, "Yes, I did."




No case had ever attracted so much attention in the press or held such a fascination for local people. On October 17, the day the two prisoners were to be arraigned, the courtroom was packed, and hundreds were turned away. Spectators began to arrive at 6:45 am, and women brought picnic lunches and their babies prepared to spend the day. 

Both Hight and Sweetin entered not-guilty pleas. Elsie was represented by Robert E. Smith of Benton, who later served as council for Charlie Birger. Hight was represented by Nelson Layman of DuQuoin. Judge Julius C Kern of Carmi agreed to grant Hight a sanity hearing and ruled that the two must stand trial together.  

Court proceedings were hard to hear above the noise of crying babies and the murmurings of the spectators. During the opening arguments, one woman fainted and had to be carried from the courtroom.

The trial was not scheduled until December 3rd, Thompson had decided not to run for States Attorney again but was retained by the Jefferson County Board of Supervisors to assist the newly elected States Attorney, Joe Frank Allen. 

Selecting an impartial jury was difficult because everyone seemed to have a preconceived opinion of the case. Finally, after examining over 60 prospective jurors, eight were selected, and by the end of the week, 12 had been impaneled and sequestered until trial resumed on December 9. 

The Mt. Vernon Register News estimated that there was a crowd of 1000 people trying to gain entrance to the court house and Thompson had 75 witnesses lined up, ready to testify if necessary. Among the witnesses were; five different physicians who had treated Wilford Sweetin, Dr. William McNally, the Chicago toxicologist who discovered arsenic in Wilford's body, the drug store clerk who had sold Hight arsenic and two friends of Wilford's who were there when Elsie insisted he drink tomato soup. Elsie's attorney put her on the stand in her own defense. 

During the trial, the village of Ina was almost a ghost town. Many of the 400 residents were either scheduled to appear as witnesses or were spectators. They testified to things they had observed or heard concerning the relationship between Hight and Elsie. The testimony of Columbus "Lum" Sweetin had the greatest impact when he said that Elsie had confessed to him that she had poisoned his son on three occasions, killing him. 

Hight's attorney entered a plea of insanity and had obtained the services of several "alienists' or physicians, who specialize in legal problems of psychiatry, Dr. G.W. Walker. Hight's cousin of Creal Springs remembered how Hight had fallen from a hay loft on his head, and he had suffered abuse from his father. Dr. Charles Anderson, who had been head of Anna State Hospital for 7 years, had given Hight an intelligence test and determined that Hight's intelligence was on par with a child of 10 years and 3 months. In his opinion, Hight was insane and that it might have been hereditary" Dr. Walker recalled that many of their relatives had been of unsound mind. 
 
Despite the efforts of Hight's well-meaning cousin, the State contended Hight was perfectly sane and knew right from wrong, backing it up by producing a  psychiatrist of their own, Dr. Frank Fry from St Louis, who had examined Hight and declared him sane. 
 
Thompson wound up his arguments on December 23, 1924, and the 12 male jurors marched out to begin their deliberations. At 8:35 am. on Christmas Eve, they returned a unanimous verdict of guilty. Only two voted for the death penalty, and therefore he would receive a life sentence. Elsie was sentenced to 35 years in prison and would be eligible for parole in 11 years.

The sensational three-week trial was over. The day after Christmas, Sheriff Grant Holcomb and Constable Ed Clinton drove Elsie to the Benton Jail, where she would be held until sentencing. On the way, she asked permission to visit the grave of her husband at Kirk Cemetery. The sheriff agreed, and the so-called "Woman of Iron" threw herself in the snow across her husband's grave and, even though she had been convicted, hysterically cited that she was innocent. 

Holcomb asked her to get up, and when she didn't, he picked her up bodily and carried tier back to the car.
 
Elsie had become such a celebrity that the Benton jail was thronged with curious spectators. The crowd grew so large Sheriff Henry Dorris hired his wife and two extra deputies just to direct traffic past her cell. The visitors were cheerfully greeted by Elsie, who took the opportunity to protest her innocence.
 
On January 3, Rev. Hight was sentenced to life imprisonment and Elsie to a term of 35 years.

In his many years on the bench, Judge Kern said he had heard many cases of adultery and divorce. Still, he couldn't understand how a minister could arrange to murder a man, then go ahead and convert him and even preach his funeral.

On the way to Menard Prison in Chester, the day of sentencing, crowds assembled at every depot along the way, hoping to catch a glimpse of the notorious clergyman. Hight seemed pleased at the attention and would stand up at the train window so they could get a better look at him. There was a crowd waiting at the prison gates as he entered.

Elsie's lawyer had entered a motion asking for a new trial, but Judge Kern refused the appeal. She was accompanied by Sheriff Holcomb and his wife on her trip to Joliet. They arrived at Union Station in St. Louis at 8:35 A.M. January 7, 1925, on the L&N Railroad. After talking with reporters there, still proclaiming her innocence, they caught the Chicago and Alton train to Joliet.
  
At the prison, another group of journalists was on hand, and Elsie said, "Someday, the truth will come out, and I will be free." 

With money contributed by friends and well-wishers from many states, her attorney appealed to the Supreme Court of Illinois and on April 20, 1927, the court returned its decision. It granted Elsie a new trial on the grounds that she should have been tried separately in the first case. 

On May 10, 1927, two and a half years after entering prison. Elsie returned to Jefferson County for a new trial, accompanied by Sheriff Hal Smith and his wife. 

Elsie's appeal for release on bond was denied, and she had to wait in county jail in Fairfield until the date of her trial. Her attorney. Robert Smith was serving as counsel for Charlie Birger, who was being tried for the murder of the Mayor of West City, so Elsie's trial didn't take place until September. 

Although Charlie Birger was sentenced to hang in Benton. Franklin County, Illinois, no one had ever been sentenced to death in Jefferson County. but prosecutors Joe Frank Allen and Frank G. Thompson planned to ask for the death penalty. 

It was Reece who discovered that Reverend Hight had purchased his wife's cemetery plot in Metropolis, Illinois, three weeks before her death. 

The trial opened on September 13. After examining 111 prospective jurors, a jury of 11 farmers and one garageman had been selected by the end of the third day. Much of the testimony presented by the prosecution was similar to that used in the first trial. Judge Pearce's decision "was somewhat different than that made by Judge J.C. Kern during the first trial. He ruled out the written confession Elsie had signed but accepted the oral confession Elsie had made to Lum Sweetin and to Sarah Lewis, a reporter. 

Again, Elsie denied any guilt and proclaimed her innocence, but the jury did not seem to be unduly impressed with her protests. 

Most of the Village of Ina was present in the courtroom, and again, many brought a basket lunch, expecting the trial to last all day. At 1:45 pm. The jury filed back into the almost deserted courtroom. They would have been back sooner, one explained, but they decided to have lunch first. 

The foreman of the jury, Robert Peters of Bluford, handed the decision to Judge Roy Pearce, explaining that they had reached a unanimous decision on the first ballot. The verdict was "not guilty. Elsie Sweetin was acquitted. Elsie embraced her three sons, her mother, Laura Lemke, sobbed with happiness, and there was hand clapping and cheers from a crowd of well-wishers who surrounded Elsie. 
 
CONCLUSION 
Following the trial, Elsie moved to Chicago and was remarried twice. Lawrence Hight was released on parole on March 28th, 1952, after serving 27 years in jail. He returned to Mt. Vernon, died there on May 6, 1959, at age 84, and is buried at Oakwood Cemetery. 

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Nela Peterson Place told me she was at Elsie's second trial and that most people there felt in their hearts that Elsie was guilty. She also told me that our Uncle Cleve Hester was one of the friends who sat up" with Wilford Sweetin prior to his death. Perhaps he was one of those who saw Elsie feed him the arsenic-laced tomato juice. 

FORMER INA WOMAN DIES IN CALIFORNIA
Ina Observer, Thursday, November 17, 1960.
We are informed that Mrs. Jack Turley, of San Diego, California, died there on October 31.  She was about 70 years old. Mrs. Turley will be remembered as Mrs. Elsie Sweetin. She is survived by three sons: Byford Sweetin of Chicago and Stanton and Harry Lee Sweetin, both residing in California. Funeral services and burial took place in San Diego, California.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Thursday, June 1, 2023

The Ku Klux Klan in Southern Illinois in 1875.

THE KLAN'S BEGINNING
The first Klan was established on December 24, 1865, in Pulaski, Tennessee, a group of Confederate veterans convenes to form a secret society that they christen the “Ku Klux Klan” in the wake of the Civil War and was a defining organization of the Reconstruction era. Former Confederate General Nathan Bedford Forrest was the Ku Klux Klan’s first grand wizard.


Organized in numerous independent chapters across the Southern United States, federal law enforcement suppressed it around 1871. It sought to overthrow the Republican state governments in the South, especially by using voter intimidation and targeted violence against African-American leaders. Each chapter was autonomous and highly secretive about membership and plans.

The second Klan started in 1915 as a small group in Georgia. It suddenly started to grow after 1920 and flourished nationwide in the early and mid-1920s, including urban areas of the Midwest and West.

The third and current manifestation of the Klan emerged after 1950 in the form of localized and isolated groups that use the Ku Klux Klan name. They have focused on opposition to the civil rights movement, often using violence and murder to suppress activists.

THE KLAN IN ILLINOIS
The Ku Klux Klan in Southern Illinois operated between 1867 and 1875 in seven counties — Franklin, Williamson, Jackson, Saline, Johnson, Union, and Pope. The "worst Klan years" were in 1874 and 1875.

Acute lead poisoning had overtaken a number of members of the original gang in 1875, and I suggested the same "remedy" for the then-current epidemic of night riding.
 
At the time I wrote my newspaper article Klansmen were so numerous throughout the southern part of the state that few people dared to speak or write disparagingly about the organization for fear of a boycott in one form or another. Nor would many newspapers publish anything detrimental to the interests of the Klan. One exception was Edwin Rackaway, the Mt. Vernon Register-News editor, who never missed an opportunity to tell the white-hooded hoodlums what he thought of them. Many other newspapers reprinted my story after he had taken the lead. 

On the July afternoon that the article appeared, squads of supposed Klansmen could be seen reading the paper, gesticulating, and pointing toward my office. Many of them were predicting, so my friends told me that I had ruined myself socially and financially and that I would certainly have to leave the county if I expected to continue the practice of medicine. I also received a number of anonymous letters criticizing my attitude toward the Klan and the Masons, who were said to have united with the Klan in their earlier escapades. 

Some of my critics said that my story about Klan activities in Franklin and Williamson counties in the decade after the Civil War was a pipe dream, that nothing of the kind had ever happened and that my article would be refuted in a few days. Of course, it never was.

The Klan's defeat and downfall in 1875 resulted when a posse ambushed a gang of fourteen-night riders at the farm of John B. Maddox in Franklin County (the Maddox farm was three or four miles northeast of West Frankfort). I knew several posse members personally; my brother had lived at the Maddox home while teaching school in the neighborhood, and one of the Maddox daughters was my aunt by marriage. I had heard the story from several sources and knew what I was writing about. More recently, I have come across a copy of The History of Williamson County) Illinois by Milo Erwin, an attorney, which was published at Marion in 1876, and also a scrapbook kept by W. S. Cantrell of Benton in which are pasted newspaper clippings of the time the raid took place. These publications confirm and expand my statements about the Klan some thirty years ago. 

The earliest mention of the Klan in the Franklin-Williamson section is contained in Erwin's history: 

On April 15, 1872, Isaac Vancil, the first white man born in this Williamson] county, a man seventy-three years old, living on Big Muddy, was notified to leave the country or suffer death. He did not obey the order, and on the night of the 22nd, ten men in disguise as Ku Klux rode up to his house, took him out about a mile down the river, and put a skinned pole in the forks of two saplings and hung him, and left him hanging. The next morning, when he was found, all around was still, blank and lifeless. Vancil was an honest, hardworking man but had some serious faults. Still, God gave an equal right to live and none the right to deal death and ruin in a land of peace. Soon after his death, eighteen men were arrested in Franklin county, charged with the murder, but all were acquitted." 

There was an off-and-on continuance of Klan activity for the next two years, and Erwin records some of it: 

During the summer of 1874, there was an organization of fifteen men near Carrier's Mills in Saline County who extended their operations up into Williamson County. They called themselves "Regulators," dressed in disguise, and went around to set things in order. They did not injure any person but simply notified those whom they thought were out of line on domestic duty and even in financial affairs to fall into line again. They generally gave the victim such a scare that he was willing to do anything to be left alone. Such a band is a disgrace to any civilized country, but no serious results or disparaging influence came from this one. 

There was probably an organization of a more serious character in this county. Several men were taken out and whipped, and some ten or fifteen were warned to leave the county. This was during the years 1874-5.

On the night of October 23, 1874, a party of twenty men in disguise visited the family of Henry D. Carter in Northern Precinct, Thompsonville, Franklin County, and ordered him to leave the county within four days, whereupon a fight took place, and twenty-two balls were lodged in his house. In a few days, fifty-two men met in arms at the County Line Church in daylight and ordered six of the Carters to leave the county. Mr. Carter wrote their names to Governor Beveridge, imploring protection. The Governor wrote to Jennings, the state's attorney of Williamson County, to enforce the law, and of course, that ended it." 

The Carters must have given a pretty good account of themselves in holding the fort because Dr. Randall Poindexter of Cave Township, Franklin County, was called out that night to treat several of his neighbors who were suffering from lead poisoning.

At this time, the headquarters of the Ku Klux gang that infested Franklin and Williamson counties were at a village with a bad name and a bad reputation known as "Sneak Out." It was located in Franklin County on the west bank of Ewing Creek, where the road between Benton and Thompsonville crossed it. Members of this gang wore the usual white robes and high peaked hats and had their horses covered with sheets. They traveled over the country in the dead of night and visited isolated farm homes where they called out the occupants and warned or threatened them about their conduct.

Early in August 1875, Bill Jacobs, a Mason who had recently joined the Klan, notified Captain John Hogan and John B. Maddox that they were soon to be visited by the night riders. The latter was also a Mason, and Jacobs thought more highly of his Masonic connections than of the Klan. Maddox, at the time, was one of the commissioners of Franklin County, a successful farmer and perhaps the wealthiest man in the Crawford's Prairie section where he lived. (Maddox lived on the western edge of Crawford's Prairie, which was about 2½ miles east and west and 1½ miles north and south, and ½ mile wide.) Hogan, likewise, was a respected citizen and had served in the Union Army. He had gone to California in a covered wagon during the gold rush and spent several years there. 

Captain Hogan did not propose taking orders from the Klan, so he went to Springfield to seek the aid of Governor Beveridge. He told the Governor of conditions in Franklin County and said that if given the authority and means, he could raise a volunteer company and arrest the Klansmen. The Governor advised Hogan to go back to Franklin County and to cooperate with Sheriff James F. Mason in organizing a volunteer company. He also said that the state would provide a hundred muskets and ammunition for the group. 

On his return to Benton, Captain Hogan met with Maddox and Sheriff Mason and discussed the matter, with the result that a "reception committee" of thirty or forty men armed with shotguns and revolvers gathered at the Maddox home on the evening of August 16, the date set by the Klan for its visit. Bill Jacobs had told Maddox that the Klansmen planned to approach from the south, where there was a lane bordered by stake-and-rider fences. The posse, under the command of Sheriff Mason, blocked this lane at the end near the house with threshing machines, wagons and other farm implements and lay in wait for the raiders.

At 2 am on August 17, 1875, the Klansmen, fourteen of them, rode silently up the lane, two abreast, fully covered by their long white robes, high white hats and masks. In the grim darkness, they were, as one of the posse described them, "enough to frighten the devil." When the leader reached the barricade, Sheriff Mason and Robert H. Flannigan stepped out of their hiding places, and the Sheriff commanded the group to halt and surrender. The leader answered by firing his pistol at the Sheriff but missed his target.

The Klansmen then wheeled their animals, attempting to escape back down the lane, and the posse opened fire. When the smoke of battle had cleared away they found one wounded Klansman, John Duckworth, lying in the road, shot in the neck. Also, there was one dead horse, a live horse belonging to one of Maddox's neighbors with its saddle filled with shot, a mule belonging to another neighbor with a saddle that had been borrowed from Maddox's son a few days earlier, and numerous bloody robes discarded on the route.

Duckworth was carried into the Maddox home, where he was examined by Dr. Thomas David Ray of Frankfort Heights, a member of the posse. Dr. Ray thought the man was mortally wounded and told him so. Believing he was making a deathbed confession Duckworth told all that he knew about the Klan. 

Only one of the fourteen-night riders escaped from the battlefield with his skin whole. The horse with the saddle filled with shot was identified as belonging to Green Cantrell, who lived two miles east of Maddox. He was arrested and taken to Benton, where Dr. Zachariah Hickman picked more than forty shot out of the posterior of his anatomy, and the Benton paper commented: "How many shot must be embedded in the carcass of a klansman before a human would consider him wounded? One of the Ku Klux Klan's captured had forty-one shots in him and still persisted in saying he was not injured."

The dead horse had been ridden by George Proctor and belonged to his father, an aged minister. Young Proctor was wounded in the heel but was helped away by another Klansman. The next morning the two of them were found in the straw stack of Henry Hunt, a neighbor of my father" who lived twenty miles from the Maddox farm. They had ridden one horse from the scene. On the day after the battle, the citizens of Benton called a meeting and passed resolutions that said:

We, as law-abiding and peaceable citizens of Franklin County ... do hereby cordially endorse the action of the Sheriff and his posse in their conduct last night; and ... we condemn in the strongest manner, these armed and disguised marauders, and ... to their suppression and the maintenance of the laws and liberties of our citizens, we do hereby pledge our lives and money."

Another result was the formation of a "military company," as authorized by Governor Beveridge, to "assist the Sheriff in the execution of the Laws, and be subjected to his orders." 


About sixty men were enrolled, and John Hogan was elected captain; G. S. Hubbard, first lieutenant; J. L. Harrell, second lieutenant; R. H. Flannigan, third lieutenant; and William Drummond, orderly sergeant. Following the organization of this company, a number of the Klansmen were arrested and brought before a United States Commissioner. A newspaper clipping in the Cantrell collection gives the following exciting account: 

THE CHIEF OF THE EGYPTIAN NIGHT RIDERS WAS HELD FOR TRIAL UNDER THE KU KLUX LAW. / INTERESTING DEVELOPMENTS AT THE EXAMINATION OF THE HELLIONS OF ILLINOIS. / HOW THE MASKED KNIGHTS OF THE GOLDEN RING REGULATED THEIR NEIGHBORS. / A PLACE WHERE HELL COMES AS NEAR CROPPING OUT AS ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD. / THE MYSTERIES OF THE INITIATION AND THE OBJECTS AND PLANS OF THE BANDITS. / THE NIGHT RIDERS IN COURT.

Centralia, Illinois, August 28, 1875 - Deputy United States Marshalls, John H. Hogan] and James F. Mason, with a number of guards armed with shot-guns and revolvers, arrived at this place last night at 7 o'clock, in charge of Aaron Neal, the reputed grand master of the Franklin County Ku-Klux, or Golden Ring, and Green M. Cantrell, John Duckworth, Williamson Briley, James Lannlus, James Abshear, and Frank Fleming, who are said to be members of his band of night riders. The railroad platform was densely crowded with people, all anxious to catch a glimpse of the live Ku Klux, and the only thing necessary to make the reception an ovation was a brass band. 

Proceeding Commenced at 20 minutes past 9 this morning, United States Commissioner Zabadee Curlee of Tamaroa, assisted by Wm. Stoker of Centralia, organized into a United States commissioners' court for the trial of the prisoners upon the complaint and information of John H. Hogan and Wm. W. Jacobs, the last named member of the Golden Ring, under sections 5,507 and 5,508 of the United States statutes, chapter 7, entitled "Crimes against the elective franchise and civil rights of citizens." 

The complaint and information against Neal were made by John H. Hogan, that he did the band and conspire with other persons, and did go with them in disguise upon a public highway in Franklin County, and upon the premises of one John B. Maddox, injure, oppress, threaten and intimidate the true right, the exercise and enjoyment of which the said Maddox was entitled to, the right and privilege thereof being guaranteed to him by the constitution and laws of the United States.

Mr. John B. Maddox was the first witness. He testified that he had lived in Franklin since 1837, that he had received notice from Mr. William W. Jacobs through Mr. John H. Hogan of the proposed attack upon him by members of the band who were repulsed in his lane on the night of that day. On cross-examination, he testified that his relations with Neal were of a friendly character. Mr. W. W. Jacobs testified that he was initiated into the Ku Klux or Golden Ring on July 29. He was sworn into the organization.

The objective of the band was to do simply as it pleased without regard to law or anything else. Calvin Moore administered the oath to him. Neal was present at that time and was also present with the band in the battle of Maddox's Lane. Several other persons were sworn in the same night. A witness was detained til a uniform came and then proceeded toward Crawford's Prairie. When we were within two or three miles of the prairie, several men in uniform and mounted dashed up behind us. We then dressed in uniform and went to Brown's; then to Calvin Moore's; then to James Moore's; then to Rice's, and then Maddox's. Neal was with us during all this time. We were at Brown's at about 11 or 12 o'clock. We inquired at Brown's where he was, and so forth and so on, and about a gun he had. Fourteen of us were at Brown's, all disguised. I think Neal professed to act as our captain. He and Calvin Moore gave commands. We went to Brown's to whip him. We had given orders which he had not complied with, and we were going to whip him and broke the gun he had.

We then went to Maddox's to give him orders. When we left the main road, we debated whether we should go to Maddox's. We decided to do so, and when we got into Maddox's lane, I thought I saw someone run across it near the house. As we came up in front of the house, I heard the command "Halt" and the order to surrender in the name of the people of the State of Illinois. I next heard a cap burst; next, a pistol shot. All of us wheeled, and the firing commenced. I saw Neal's mule run past me. Neal rode up on the mule but was not on it when it passed me. I heard that it was the intention to give Maddox orders first, whip him if he disobeyed, and hang him if he persisted in disobedience.

We went to Brown's to whip him because he had accused people wrongfully. We went to Maddox's because he had been a little too free with women and with Rice's wife. We intended to talk to Maddox, and if he didn't come out to fetch him out.

Mr. John Duckworth, the wounded Ku Klux, then took the stand as a witness for the prosecution. His evidence was a little confusing. He testified that he had been a member of the Golden Ring for about three months; that he had been initiated with Jacobs, who testified that he became a member less than a month ago. He was initiated in Eli Sommers' lot. Jacobs testified that he was initiated by Hiram Summers', a whiskey seller at Sneakout. Neal acted as captain or, as the members designated him, grand master. He was at Maddox's and rode a mule. I had a pistol. Calvin Moore had a gun, and George Proctor had a gun. The object of the organization was to make fellows da as we wanted them to.

The law could not get at us. We gave a man orders, and if he did not obey, we whipped him and would hang him. If he did not, then obey. Neal was alone at the time of the Maddox affair. He was in front. I was in front, too. I was shot and did not know anything more. 

Matilda Brown testified that her late husband had been visited twice by the Ku Klux. The first time was June 24. Four came and wanted water. They asked about Maddox. They were inside the house, but one only talked.

She recognized Neal by his voice. I have known him since his youth and knew his voice. I recognized Calvin Moore by his actions; by a peculiar walk; by a proud, hasty walk. I told my husband they would be back to see him. Fourteen called the second time and inquired about Brown. I told them he was in bed, sick. They asked if he had a gun and revolver. I told them no. They told me he was measuring horse tracks and must stop that in the country. I recognized the voice of Calvin Moore on the second visit. My sick husband was frightened. He didn't appear like the same man and died the next day. I think fright hastened his death. Dr. Thomas David Ray testified that he was waiting on Brown at the visit by the Ku Klux and thought the excitement hastened his death.

The second case against Neal, of conspiring with others to injure, oppress and intimidate citizens, was submitted on the same evidence. The cases were submitted without argument. Commissioner Stoker, Commissioner Curlee being absent from the room, having been attacked by sickness, dismissed the second case against Neal as insufficient and said he would consult with Commissioner Curlee on the first case and announce his decision after supper. The court here adjourned at half-past 7 o'clock.

After a conference of several hours, United States Commissioner Curlee decided to hold Cantrell in fifteen hundred dollars bond and Briley in one thousand. The sum is considered low, and regret and indignation are expressed that Neal, the leader, should have been let off on a two thousand dollars bond.

In a long talk with Captain John Hogan, who was Captain of the Franklin County Militia, I gathered some interesting facts. It is owing to Captain Hogan that the first organized resistance was made to the Klan. He provoked their hostility by prosecuting Hiram Sommers, of the Klan, for selling his boy whisky and was warned to pay Sommers back the amount of the fine of $100 and costs. He was to have been visited on the 20th inst., and on a second warning, was to have been hung. He aroused Maddox and Sheriff Mason and procured necessary arms and accouterments from Governor Beveridge to form a militia company for the arrest of the offenders. The arms were furnished by the State, which of course, also bears the expense of their subsistence.

A careful estimate shows that nearly fifteen hundred men are more or less directly connected or in sympathy with the band in Franklin, Williamson and adjoining counties. Aaron Neal, the leader, is an old member of the Southern Ku Klux Klan. 

Great credit is due to W. W. Jacobs, who has voluntarily exposed the Klan and its membership. He joined it for the purpose of exposing and breaking up the organization. Another object he had was to discover the murderer of old man Vancil, who was hung by a band of Ku Klux for disobedience of their orders about two years ago. Several men were arrested for the murder but had to be discharged after the main witnesses against them had been shot and killed. It has been discovered through Duckworth, Jacobs and others that Aaron Neal, Calvin Moore and a man named Jesse Cavins were all present at, if they did not assist in, the hanging of Vancil. This brutal murder will probably never be avenged. 

The passwords of the Klan were simple. On meeting a supposed member, they would put their hands in their pants pockets and move the pinky fingers on the outside. If he was a member, he responded by moving his coat by the lapels with his hands or the lapels of his vest by the same means. Then, taking him by the hand, they would put two fingers on his hand between the thumb and first finger, and if he was a member he would say something about doing well. The last two spoken words were the passwords and were sufficient if used in any sort of phrase. 

So far as reports indicate, no member of the first Ku Klux Klansmen, even those who were caught red-handed, was ever convicted in Franklin County. However, the dose of lead poisoning administered by Sheriff Mason, Captain Hogan and their posse was an effective cure for Klan activities in 1875. 

The Ku Klux Klan reorganized in southern Illinois in 1923.
A Ku Klux Klan Wedding, 1926



ADDITIONAL READING

By Andy Hall, M.D., 1953
Edited by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.