In 2010 I wrote a series of four articles in About Covington to Madison Magazine that detailed the horrific tragedy of the killing of eleven black men in rural Georgia back in 1921. It generated a lot of interest and feedback so I ended up adding a dedicated page for it here the Chronicles. It is by far my most viewed post or page showing the interest level in this dark tragedy. Here are all four installments in order:
The Dark Tale of John S. Williams, Part I
*author's note: much of my research for
this series of articles was found in "Lay This Body Down", a book by
Gregory Freeman that details this horrific story. I highly recommend it
to anyone wanting to get more in-depth information on this tragic tale.
One of the most heinous crimes to occur in this area happened about 90
years ago. In April of 1921 at the courthouse in Covington, GA, John
Williams was found guilty of the murder of Lindsey Peterson, a black
peon who had worked on the Williams farm. That in and of itself was bad,
but what made things so terrible is that he was also charged in the
killings of 10 others--all black men, known as peons, who had worked on
the Williams Plantation in Jasper Co., GA. It was a monumental shift in
Southern justice as it is widely believed that Williams was the first
white man convicted of murdering a black in the Deep South since
Reconstruction. The trial was considered one of the biggest in Georgia
up to that time and received national headlines as the “Murder Farm”
trial.
The word peon is known today simply as a derogatory term; however, years
ago it described someone, usually black, who was forced to work for
someone, usually a white plantation owner, to pay off fines or debts.
Usually, the fine was minor—maybe $5 and for something as simple as
loitering. Unable to pay the fine, a farmer could come along and pay it
off and the prisoner was released into his custody and the peon would
“work it off.” Usually, fuzzy math was employed and the debt would never
get repaid. It was a de facto form of slavery and while the
Emancipation Proclamation and 13th Amendment had technically ended the
“peculiar institution”, the peonage system would last well into the 20th
century and all the way to the 1960's in some Southern states. But not
in Georgia. After the John Williams case, the horrible practice quickly
started to disappear.
This sordid tale started with the escape of Gus Chapman who had been
held against his will at the Williams farm as a peon. On his first
escape attempt in 1920, he was hunted down and given a terrible beating,
but the second time he succeeded and made it to Atlanta. Once there, he
was able to meet with two agents of the Bureau of Investigation (the
precursor to the FBI) and tell a tale of indentured servitude that
included beatings, whippings and improper living conditions. The Feds
were looking to get tough on peonage since the awful practice was
getting bigger and bigger in most of the cotton states despite being
expressly outlawed in 1867.
(Next month: Williams Decides to “get rid of the evidence”...Murder and Mayhem in Jasper, Co.)
The Dark Tale of John S. Williams, Part II Williams Decides to Get Rid of the Evidence
So Gus Chapman, the escaped peon, met with Agents Brown and Wismer of
the Bureau of Investigation in early 1921. The agents believed Chapman
and were persuaded by his horrible tale. Other complaints had come into
their office about the Williams plantation over the years and with this
new information, they decided the time had come to drive out to Jasper
County and pay John Williams a visit.
The agents went out to the Williams farm unannounced in mid February of
1921. Williams was away from the property at the time and the first
person they spoke to was Clyde Manning, the black overseer of the
Plantation and John Williams's right hand man. Manning spoke to the Feds
as had been instructed by his boss if this situation were to ever
arise. He spoke of Williams as a kind man and said that none of the
workers were there against their will and that the conditions were very
good. They spoke to several other black workers who all echoed Manning's
sentiments. And naturally they would. They were all terrified of this
man who had been known to kill peons in the past. And one must
remember--this was rural Georgia in the 1920's. Federal agents or not,
these men wouldn't be talking. Later, Williams would return and spoke
with the agents at length and had seemingly convinced them that all was
well. In fact, the facade put up by Williams would have likely worked
had it not been for one simple thing: the Feds caught Manning and
Williams in a lie over what had really happened to Gus Chapman on his
first escape attempt. And that pretty much did it. And Williams knew it.
Williams probably felt like his entire universe would start to crumble
if the Feds were able to put together a case against him. In his sick
and twisted mind, he may have felt like his only option was to get rid
of the evidence-- the ten or so black peons working and living on his
farm. The next morning, he went by and visited Manning and told him,
“Clyde, it won't do for those boys to get up yonder and swear against
us. They will ruin us...we'll have to do away with them.” At first,
Manning was hoping against hope that Williams meant they'd have to
release them...but deep down inside he knew better and as the
conversation went on that cold Saturday morning, the truth became
apparent--John Williams wanted these men dead.
When it was all said and done, eleven men would be killed. The first
victim was Johnnie Williams (no relation to John S. Williams). Unlike
most of the peons, he wasn't drowned in one of the local rivers.
Instead, he got an axe to the side of his head and was buried in a
shallow grave on the Williams farm.
(Next month: Murder and Mayhem in Jasper Co....The Trial)
The Dark Tale of John S. Williams, Part III
Murder & Mayhem in Jasper Co.
The day after Johnnie Williams became the first victim of this killing
spree in the winter of 1921, John S. Williams instructed Clyde Manning,
his right-hand man, to get John Will Gaither, known as “Big John”, and
another of the peons to start working on digging out a well on another
part of the plantation. Manning knew that another killing was eminent.
And sure enough, while Big John was almost head deep in a hole of
Georgia clay, Williams instructed the other man, Charlie Chisolm, to hit
him in the head with a pick axe. He did, and Big John died almost
instantly and collapsed into his makeshift grave. Manning and Chisolm
filled it in and another man had met his death on the Williams farm in
as many days.
The saddest part of this whole story, to me, has got to be Clyde
Manning. A peon himself, who knew that Williams had killed in the past
and wouldn't hesitate to turn his murderous ways on him. In fact, he
told him that very thing. “It's your neck or theirs, Clyde... [pick]
whichever you think the most of.” Basically—it was help kill these men,
fellow black peons that Manning had come to know and love almost like
brothers, or end up dead himself. The only possible alternative? Kill
Williams and face a certain death probably by lynching. It was truly a
tragic situation.
A few days later on Friday February 25th, Williams decided it was time
to dispose of a couple more men. He probably decided it wasn't a good
idea to have too many more bodies on the property, so he decided that
dumping them in the local rivers was his best bet. That evening he went
to the peon quarters and told the men that he was going to start letting
them go. He decided that he would only take two men that night—John
“Red” Brown and Johnny “Little Bit” Benson. Those two along with
Williams, Chisolm, and Manning piled into a car and were supposedly on
the way to the train station. However, on the way, they stopped the car
and Red and Little Bit were tied up with chains and irons. Once on
Water's Bridge over the Alcovy River, Williams stopped the car and
proceeded to have Manning and Chisolm dump the men over the bridge
railing. The two victims cried and pleaded, promising that they wouldn't
say anything to anyone. But it was too late. Williams wanted these men
dead.
The next night, three more men would be disposed of in a similar manner.
This time off of Allen's Bridge over the Yellow River. The three
victims—Willie Preston, Harry Price, and Lindsey Peterson (as you'll
remember from the first column, he was the first body found and would be
the murder victim that Williams would be tried for). Preston and
Peterson were the first to be thrown over. Price was actually able to
shake loose and with tears streaming down his face told the men, “Don't
throw me over.. I'll go over [myself].” So, on that cold February night,
he whispered “Lord Have Mercy", and leaned back over the railing.
The next day two more peons would be killed--Johnny Green and Willie
Givens. Both would be killed on the plantation with an axe and buried
where they fell. A week later, Charlie Chisolm, who had helped with
several of the earlier murders, was next. He was tied up with chains and
rocks and dumped in the Alcovy. A few days after that, Fletcher Smith
would be the last worker killed. He was shot and buried on the
plantation.
Next month: The conclusion of this tale—Part IV: The Trial
The Dark Tale of John S. Williams, Part IV
The Trial
When it was all said and done, eleven black men who had been working
against their will as peons would be murdered (Peonage, as we have
discussed through all of these columns, was a de facto form of slavery
that would exist in the Deep South well into the 20th century). A
heinous killing spree indeed, it had lasted for a couple of weeks and
events would unfold quickly soon thereafter. Several days later, two
young boys discovered a human foot sticking out of the Yellow River near
Allen’s bridge. The Newton Co. Sheriff was contacted and it was
discovered there were actually two bodies that would later be identified
as Willie Preston and Lindsey Peterson. Over the course of the next
several days, more bodies would be found in the Alcovy and South rivers,
and the people of Newton and Jasper counties started to realize that
there was something very bad going on.
At this point, the story could have easily ended. Once again, we must
remember that this was rural Georgia in the 1920’s. Finding the bodies
of murdered blacks was not really out of the ordinary during the heyday
of lynchings and mob rule justice. But one simple thing changed all
that. A co-worker of the federal agents we discussed in the first couple
parts of this article forwarded a newspaper article about the bodies
being discovered, and Agents Brown and Wismer figured that this was no
coincidence. They got involved and with the help of the Newton County
authorities and a former peon, they were able to ascertain that these
were indeed former workers of John S. Williams.
Knowing that this was would be under local jurisdiction, the Feds
realized that they could not really get involved so they enlisted the
aid of Hugh Dorsey, Georgia ’s governor at the time. Dorsey, some
suspect, was looking to rehab his legacy after the Leo Frank debacle
(Dorsey served as that trial’s chief prosecutor in what is widely
believed to be one of the worst travesties of justice in Georgia’s
history). With Dorsey and the State of Georgia involved and the Feds
working in the background, a case seemed possible if the local
authorities were on board. They were. The Newton Co. Sheriff and the
local D.A. were up for the challenge. The final piece of the puzzle was
getting Clyde Manning’s testimony. From there, it all came together and
combined with the arrogance and lack of urgency on the part of Williams
and his defense team, a very good case was made in court.
On April 9th, 1921, at the courthouse in Covington and with journalists
from as far away as New York watching, the jury comprised of twelve
white men returned a verdict—Guilty! It was a huge surprise for just
about everybody as it is widely believed that John S. Williams was the
first white man convicted of murdering a black in the Deep South since
Reconstruction. He was sentenced to life in prison. About a month later,
Manning received the same verdict and punishment for his role although
it seemed he had no choice in his involvement if he had wanted to stay
alive.
Manning would die in prison about six years later from Tuberculosis.
Williams would die a few years after that after being crushed by a
truck. It is believed that this awful event did have one silver
lining—it started to bring an end to the awful practice of peonage and
would pave the way for more reform down the road.
I know this has been a sad, tragic, and at times, gruesome tale. I made
it a point to mention all eleven victims by name during these past few
columns. They all lived very difficult lives only to be murdered because
a man didn’t want to deal with the consequences of his actions.
