PUBLISHER'S NOTE: Summer is the time to finally pick up that thriller you've been waiting to read. But most county residents have no idea the thrilling and chilling episodes that have played out right here. Partnering with the Tompkins library, all through the summer months of June, July and August The Citizen News will be offering a weekly series of articles that's sure to keep you shocked and amazed. 

During this time of 4th of July festivities, it is only fitting to recount how some citizens of Edgefield once celebrated and entertained themselves.  

After all, Edgefieldians have a long reputation for possessing a flair for adventurous fun and excitement.  Moonshiners, gamblers, and cock fighters abounded and there are many newspaper articles concerning their antics, but most articles between 1915 and 1925 concentrated on one in particular—the one who made, transported, and sold “liquid refreshment”—the moonshiner.  

Because every seized bottle had to be poured out on the Courthouse square, there were times when moonshine flowed through the streets of Edgefield like a river. For example, on March 17, 1919, The Edgefield Advertiser reported that:

Before the Court House Steps

Sheriff Swearingen proceeded with great dignity and decorum on Monday morning last to dispense with 40 quarts of bottled in bond 100 proof liquor that was seized at Trenton some weeks ago.  This high-class wet goods was the product of one famed shipper by the name of Richards of Baltimore.  An immense crowd of white and black and yellow citizens assembled together and crowded around the busy Sheriff, who went about his business of pouring out the “stuff” with mixed merriment and deliberation.  Some thirsty negro held his hand under the “fiery” and liquid flow just to get an imaginary “nip.”  The fun increased as the flow went on and the “spirited” fumes threatened to put the bystanders and the Court House officials “under the table.”  And the Sheriff is even yet in a hilarious mood.  It was a novel and interesting sight to see. [The Edgefield Advertiser, March 27, 1919]

The Edgefield County Jail Books are filled with people charged with moonshining and many of them were sentenced to serve time on the chain gang.  “Doing time on the gang” was usually enough to straighten out most wayward citizens; however, for some criminals, there was no punishment harsh enough to keep them from doing as they liked.  The article below illustrates this point very well:

Making Booze on the Gang

We have always heard, not that we knew personally, that liquor, particularly mean liquor, makes a fellow foolhardy and bold to the extent that oft-times he imagines himself a lion when only a weakling of a lamb, but we never knew until recently that makers of liquor sometimes possess outwardly the boldness of a lion.  The most brazen violation of the prohibition law of which we have heard was told us by Supervisor Edmunds Monday.  Would you have thought it, the cook on the Chain gang has been making “fuss X,” actually distilling liquor on the gang.  While the foreman, guards and convicts would be away during the day at work on the road, the cook improvised a still and had some “home brew” experience all to himself.  As night fall would approach, this amateur distiller would take his “worm” out and hide it in the bushes till next day.  He admitted that he had been making liquor when his outfit was found in the bushes near the camp.  He said it was “mighty mean stuff.” [The Edgefield Advertiser, December 7, 1921]

Before prohibition, Edgefield was filled with taverns, saloons, and grog-shops, where men gathered to drink and gamble.  Unfortunately, liquor and betting do not mix well and many acts of violence occurred as a result—some even fatal.  In the Coroner’s Book, there are many instances of people being murdered over gaming.  For example, G. D. Tillman killed J. H. Christian in 1856 over a game of faro.  In the Coroner’s Record, one of the witnesses testified that

“we were sitting around in a room in the Planters Hotel in Room No. 10.  Tillman was betting against the faro bank and said he would bet five dollars and won the five dollars, but he claimed ten.  When the bank refused to pay him more than the five dollars, Tillman appealed to the bystanders to give their opinion.  Christian spoke up and said he only bet five dollars.  Tillman then said that you are a damned liar and they seemed to advance towards each other, then I heard the report of a pistol.  Christian then threw his arms across his breast, and turned round two or three times and said Tillman you have killed me.  He then fell on the bed and lived about three to five minutes.”  

After this incident, Tillman fled the country and went to Central America for two years, but he later returned to Edgefield and faced the Court, and was given a light sentence for his crime.

Another endeavor engaged in by some local citizens was cock fighting.  

Ask old man Charlie Key about the spirited and deadly cocking main that took place in front of the public park on Monday last.  The tragedy was pitted between a Bacon game cock and an ordinary Dominecker.  Of course the game slaughtered his opponent.  And Councilman Key stood by unprotesting, and in direct violation of the Town Ordinance provided against such offences.  And the Bacon strain rushed into lawyer Folk’s office to secure his services for the defense.  [Edgefield Chronicle, May 18, 1916]

A notice, published in The Augusta Chronicle on December 30, 1888, was actually of a poster displayed in various barrooms in Augusta.  Cock fighting was a very popular sport, especially in Hamburg, and even after it was banned in South Carolina, people still continued to carry on cock fighting with great zeal and enthusiasm.

There is no doubt that some Edgefieldians lived and operated on the edge of the law; nevertheless, they carried out their crimes with such flair and exuberance that their exploits have gone down in the annals of history with almost a spirit of jubilation.