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The Old Rock Jail The jail that followed the Red Log Jail in 1876, was a substantial rock building and had iron doors and Windows protected by heavy iron bars which were the despair of incarcerated criminals. It had living quarters for the sheriff on the lower- front floor. The upper had several strong cells for the prisoners. Many thrilling incidents characteristic of the rip-roaring west occurred around this old jail. However, it has one distinction; it never suffered the humiliation of having its prisoners removed by infuriated mobs and hung to nearby post-oak trees. One prisoner escaped but voluntarily returned and stood trial in the court and was exonerated. About the turn of the century a new jail was erected just off the southwest corner of the square facing Leon Street. At this time the old jail was abandoned and the new jail came into use. For many years the old jail was used by different parties as a place to store all sorts of goods. in 1937 it was razed and upon the lots was erected a modern business building. This jail stood on the lot a half block north of the square on 7th Street. The jail that stood off the southwest corner of the square was in turn torn down, and judge Robert W. Brown, upon his resignation as County Judge in 1936 was able to report that "the county now has one of the best small jails in Texas." It was in this jail that Sheriff W. W. Hollingsworth received a severe blow that was accidentally delivered from a friend while assisting the sheriff in bringing a belligerent prisoner under control. Sheriff Hollingsworth's death later came as a result of this accident. A Heroic Woman In selecting a few word pictures to illustrate the times when the Old Rock Jail was in service for the county's law violators, we have adopted one by "Anonymous" which was published in the Coryell County News of June 11, 1937. That was the year the old jail, after standing for 61 years was torn down. -- 104 -- The story follows: Tearing down of the Old Jail brings back to mind the fact that it once held Powell and Leeper, Bill Babb, and many other early day outlaws, but it also brings back the memory of incidents that illustrate the code of frontiersman, such as an incident which happened there 60 years ago. There was one man in the jail, in particular, that had been accused of a very foul deed in an adjoining county, and had been brought here for safe keeping. It is around him that our story hinges. Some of the men in the run-around and Ben McClinton, the deputy sheriff went in to feed them. They overpowered him, took his keys, and released the prisoners From their cells. In the lower southeast room were Mrs. Ben Friend, wife of the sheriff, an infant daughter, only a few days old, and an old Negro woman. As soon as she heard the disturbance in the rear, and realized what had happened, she hurried the Negro woman off for help. She then got out of bed, locked the front door, tossed the keys out the window, and returned to her room and sat down by the cradle of her baby. When the men saw their escape blocked by the iron door in front, they turned to her and demanded that it be opened. She told them that their efforts to escape would be useless for the alarm had already been given. For a few moments pandemonium prevailed and then the so-called bad man stepped forth and said: "Mrs. Friend, we surrender to you." He then gave her the keys to the cells and hurried the others back into the jail. As the last one passed in he protested: "You damn fool! why didn't you knock that woman down and take those keys? you knew she had them." He replied: "I would be in jail �til I rotted before I'd touch a woman." And so a jail break was prevented because of the reverence that an outlaw had for a defenseless woman. Another incident, strange but true, which had its setting in the home of Ben Friend several years after he retired from the sheriff's office. Mr. Friend had moved to -- 105 -- his farm, a double log, pioneer type house with a hall between two main rooms, and shed rooms at the rear. One evening late in the fall, Mr. Friend was frolicking with his children before the open fire place; when a stranger called at the door. Mr. Friend went to meet the man, with the little girl on his shoulder, and a couple of children tagging at his trousers. The gloomy, sullen man was invited in to spend the night, and Mr. Friend, still playing with the children, tried to engage the man in conversation, but he would say very little, remaining sullen and gloomy. Supper was called, the stranger was invited to offer thanks. He refused, saying he had very little to be thankful for in this life. Mr. Friend then offered thanks and asked God's blessings be showered upon this stranger within his gates. After supper, all gathered around the fire place, and the stranger still refused to be led into conversation. At bed time, he was shown his bed in one of the shed rooms. Next morning, Mr. Friend went to call the strange man to breakfast. He was gone. A few months later, Mr. Friend received a letter, post marked in a western town. The writer related that he was the man who had accepted his hospitality a few months before; and that his mission was to kill the former sheriff for having gotten him convicted to the penitentiary while sheriff. He had intended to shoot Mrs. Friend, but feared he might injure the baby. He had seen the happiness manifested in his hosts family and that fervent prayer for a wandering outcast, intent upon murder, struck to the core of his heart, and that the future did not seem nearly so dark as the night he had gone out into when he left the Friend home. His resolution to kill had left him and a resolution to be an honest, useful man, had led him into a life of usefulness. Powel & Leeper In the early winter of 1889. December 17, John T. Mathes and W. H. H. Harvey headed their wagon train out of Gatesville over the Lampasas Road, for they lived southwest of Gatesville in the Cowhouse River valley. -- 106 -- They had been in Gatesville marketing cotton and purchasing winter supplies. The day was sunny, and the slow moving wagon train lumbered across the prairies that stretch from the Leon to the brushy hills that overlook the Cowhouse valley. They reached Hard Bargain mountain and slowly descended to the leveler prairies at the foot of the steep hills. They were nearing their homes. Back on the road, they had passed over, two horsemen were following them. At a side road, Bob Wells, who had been to his ranch turned into the public road in time to contact the two horsemen. The men inquired how far ahead the wagon train was. After a brief conversation, Mr. Wells told them to ride on, for he had grown apprehensive of their disposition, and sat there "ready to draw". The two horsemen spurred on after the wagon train. They overtook it about 2 miles out in the Cowhouse valley and attempted to hold up and rob the party. When one of them attempted to stop Mr. Matthes' team he struck them with the whip and caused the robber to be thrown into the fence. The man thereupon shot Mr. Matthes and drug him out of the wagon. In an attempt to make a small boy hand over his money, the boy refused, and it was apparent that Ed Powell was going to shoot him, hut at that moment Mr. Harvey struck the robber a terrific blow with a bull whip. The robber then shot Mr. Harvey, wounding him severely. The bandits then mounted and rode back toward Gatesville. Matthes died about 36 hours later. The news of the murder spread rapidly. The next day Bob Wells identified Jim Leeper on the street. Mr. Matthes, before he died, told the people that one of them had taken a Mexican silver dollar off him. Jim Leeper had the silver dollar when arrested by Sheriff John Lanham. Powell told the sheriff that Leeper would be found at the Buster place (Mr. Buster was reputed to be a very fine gentleman. He knew nothing of the affair until a posse arrived to arrest Leeper.) Sheriff Lanham headed a posse, and arrested Powell. -- 107 -- |
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