Last year the Town Crier took a look at local author Jodi McDaniel Lowery’s true crime book “Eula”, which followed the exploits of the Murray County resident who was the first woman to be condemned to Georgia’s death row. Lowery’s latest book is “Murder, Mayhem and Whitecapping: The Fall of the Northwest Georgia Whitecappers”, and today we’ll take a look to see what true crime Jodi’s been up to… not personally of course; literarily.
“Murder, Mayhem and Whitecapping” delves into the early days of Murray County (and originally Murray included Whitfield up until the 1850s when the county was split). Spring Place was the county seat and had a Post office there beginning in 1826. Spring Place came to be for several reasons. First were the abundant springs in the area that provided plenty of crystal clear, fresh water year round. Thanks to this, Chief Vann built his marvelous mansion on a hill looking down on the springs and grew his successful plantation to over 1,000 acres. A Moravian Mission was started there in 1801 that remained until 1833 when it moved with the Cherokee during their forced removal to what is now Oklahoma. Then, when the Federal Road went through the area, they naturally chose Spring Place and the oasis of civilization that was the Vann Plantation as a stagecoach stop. All of these combined to make Spring Place a bustling little town at the foot of the Northwest Georgia mountains.
In the early 1830s, the Cherokee lands, including the newly forming Murray County, were split up into parcels and a lottery was held for the area being taken over by the whites. The criteria for being eligible for the lottery included being a bachelor 18 or older, being a veteran of the Indian Wars, a widow from a husband who was killed in battle, orphans in a family without a father or without both parents or an invalid veteran from the Revolutionary War or the War of 1812.
For about 10 years things were in great flux between the Cherokee and the whites, as the struggle to control the land went on from the Georgia legislature all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court. Apart from the various treaties that were written up for the removal of the Cherokee, there were also harsh laws being enacted such as the one that stated no Indian could have a white man working for him. Chief Vann had a white overseer for his plantation. Lowery states it’s for this reason his land was confiscated. It wasn’t about a fine or time served in a prison for punishment, it was all about the land grab.
Murray grew after the Civil War and in 1890 the population of the county was 8,461 (The 2020 census gives 39,973 as the current county size). In 1886, the county voters made a decision, as did Whitfield County, that would make a huge impact on the formation of the “Whitecappers”: the county voted to go dry. This meant no legal drinking of alcoholic drinks; key word “legal”. The powerful corn liquor known as “White Lightning” or “Mountain Dew” was still made, still sold and still drunk, but all illegally. To many of these farmers, descended from Scotch or Irish ancestry, making your own booze from your own corn was a right not to be infringed upon by the government. Corn could be made into whiskey and sold as a cash crop as opposed to having the corn stored somewhere all year where it might mold or loose quantities to vermin. As far as the Federal Government was concerned, they just wanted their share of the taxes imposed on the alcohol. No tax? No whiskey! The wooded mountain slopes were full of stills the day before the county went dry and they would continue to be the day after. The sin to churchgoers was drinking the stuff, the sin to the government was making it and not paying the taxes.
A farmer making Mountain Dew during the post-harvest months up until the spring planting might make as much as $150, the modern equivalent of about $5,000. Moonshine, also known as illegal alcohol production, was in effect during the Civil War in the South, with it against the law to use corn or barley for anything other than foodstuffs to feed people and the troops. After the war the Federal Government put a tax on alcohol, beer and tobacco to help raise tax revenue. Revenue officers patrolled the areas to make sure no illegal production was under way. If found, stills were busted up, the alcohol poured out and the producer carted off to court. Lowery says by 1876, 80% of all federal cases had to do with illegal distilling with the biggest share of cases for selling (68%) and making (77%) hootch in the Appalachian region. In ’92 to ’93 there were 211 cases of moonshining in northwest Georgia. As it becomes apparent, the moonshine industry and the Whitecappers would become linked.
The Whitecappers were so called because of the disguise they wore when out riding about the countryside doing their nefarious business. If you’ve seen a picture of a Ku Klux Klansman in white robe and masked hood you get the idea. The Whitecappers, while acting in similar manner to the Klan, were not technically Ku Klux Klan. The Klan was started in Pulaski, Tennessee, by Southern General Nathan Bedford Forrest as a type of fraternal order for former southern veterans of the late war, constructed along the lines of the Freemasons. But shortly thereafter the group turned secretive vigilantes against the people and Blacks in the south that were against slavery and for the Blacks having equal civil rights. The violence went against what Forrest saw as the Klan’s goals and so he disbanded the group. The “official” Klan disappeared until reestablishment in 1915, but the model had been built and thereafter white clad or otherwise, criminal gangs would roam the night instilling terror in the victims they went after. While some of this was aimed at Black citizens, the Whitecappers of Murray and the surrounding area, had a different focus of what they were up to. They were simultaneously breakers of the law as well enforcers of certain moral codes. It made for a criminal organization unlike most others as they went after some of the bad guys but also plenty of the good guys.
Upon joining, the members took a blood oath to keep membership secret, follow orders, and submit to death if they betrayed the group. Members included distillers, businessmen, farmers, and even law-enforcement and judges.
With that kind of reach throughout the community it was difficult for individuals to stand up against such an organization. With a small population at the time most everyone knew everyone else and so, hoods or not, membership wasn’t such a secret all the time. The members knew who they were, the wives knew their husbands were in the group, voices were recognized and people talk.
The groups had different names for themselves depending on which county they were in. In Murray County they were the Distiller’s Union, The Working Men’s Friend and Protective Organization in Gilmer County, The Honest Man’s Friend and Protector in Pickens, and The Gordon County Grangers in Gordon County. They all sound like they would be helpful organizations, don’t they? Some of the men would have been in the Klan when it existed right after the war. The white caps were worn to hide their faces and the white robes to hide their clothes since many could be recognized by what they wore and their body type. A little over 40% were tenant farmers and the rest were various members of the community. You had to be wealthy enough to have a horse or mule to ride to go out on enforcement raids and this would be another way people would recognize members.
In some cases membership brought the ability to avoid prosecution for crimes to begin with. In other cases, if fellow members were on the jury they could hang it or get the other jurymen to go with an innocent verdict. When it came to action, there would be intimidating raids to keep citizens from turning in the moonshiners. Apart from someone being honest and wanting it to stop, turning in someone you didn’t like, a wife turning in her own husband for the sake of family, turning in a moonshiner brought a small cash reward as well. But there was a side of these nightriders that took it upon themselves to police the community. Fifty of the Whitfield County group went after the denizens of houses of ill-repute, and then beating the men and women there with the intent of driving them out of business and/or out of town. The raid lasted over a night at five different locals and local law enforcement didn’t do anything to stop them.
One has to wonder how many of the members were law enforcement themselves.
Lowery presents this information about the rise of the Whitecappers and more in the first portion of the book. Next week we’ll look at some of the causes of their downfall. You can pick up “Murder, Mayhem and Whitecapping” and read all about it yourself at Amazon, Barnes and Noble and other bookselling sites.
Mark Hannah, a Dalton native, works in video and film production.