Chapter 1
Murder at a Whiskey Camp
It is a summer night in antebellum Mason County, Illinois. It is unseason-
ably cool, with a temperature of 56 degrees. A soft wind blows from the
northwest, and stars twinkling in a cloudless sky1 form a jeweled canopy
over the stand of trees known to history as Walker’s
Grove,2
Walnut
Grove,3 or sometimes Virgin’s Grove.4 Two encampments disturb the
usual tranquility of this unpopulated area. At one encampment worship-
pers have gathered to hear evangelical sermons, sing hymns of praise,
and refresh their souls. At the other encampment men have gathered to
drink, gamble, and race horses. Some of them even intend to harass the
camp of worship, which lies a mile distant from the camp of whiskey.
A big man strides through the whiskey camp like an angry bear. He is tall,
broad, and strong, and he is confident of his ability to handle himself.
Sure that he cannot be defeated, he is looking for a fight. And just in case
he chooses an adversary who proves too much of a challenge, he carries a
loaded
whip5—a
whip with the lash braided around pellets of
buckshot.6
It is a formidable weapon, with the lash retaining its flexibility but pack-
ing a heavier wallop.
A small man has come to the camp to drink whiskey and race horses.
Tonight the small man concentrates on the whiskey. Having drunk his
fill, he looks for a place to sleep off the effects of the alcohol. Finding a
place that seems suitable, he lies down and soon falls asleep. He does
not sleep long. The big man wakes him up and curses him. The small
man tries to ignore the big man’s bullying, but finally he has enough. He
hits the big man in the face. The big man closes with the smaller and
Murder at a Whiskey Camp
It is a summer night in antebellum Mason County, Illinois. It is unseason-
ably cool, with a temperature of 56 degrees. A soft wind blows from the
northwest, and stars twinkling in a cloudless sky1 form a jeweled canopy
over the stand of trees known to history as Walker’s
Grove,2
Walnut
Grove,3 or sometimes Virgin’s Grove.4 Two encampments disturb the
usual tranquility of this unpopulated area. At one encampment worship-
pers have gathered to hear evangelical sermons, sing hymns of praise,
and refresh their souls. At the other encampment men have gathered to
drink, gamble, and race horses. Some of them even intend to harass the
camp of worship, which lies a mile distant from the camp of whiskey.
A big man strides through the whiskey camp like an angry bear. He is tall,
broad, and strong, and he is confident of his ability to handle himself.
Sure that he cannot be defeated, he is looking for a fight. And just in case
he chooses an adversary who proves too much of a challenge, he carries a
loaded
whip5—a
whip with the lash braided around pellets of
buckshot.6
It is a formidable weapon, with the lash retaining its flexibility but pack-
ing a heavier wallop.
A small man has come to the camp to drink whiskey and race horses.
Tonight the small man concentrates on the whiskey. Having drunk his
fill, he looks for a place to sleep off the effects of the alcohol. Finding a
place that seems suitable, he lies down and soon falls asleep. He does
not sleep long. The big man wakes him up and curses him. The small
man tries to ignore the big man’s bullying, but finally he has enough. He
hits the big man in the face. The big man closes with the smaller and
