  During the half century before Eureka Springs was settled and named in 1879, settlers trekked in and built homes in the valleys and along the streams of the western district of Carroll County. The region was popular with hunters because of the abundance of game. The virgin timber attracted men who set up peckerwood sawmills to supply the pioneers with building material. It was a rugged environment of hills and hollows and the settlers matched the mountains in which they lived. Many stories are told of bizarre happenings during this early period and one of them is about the cow trial in a paw paw thicket on Leatherwood Creek four miles north of the present location of Eureka Springs. It was in the lusty Carpetbagger Days of the late seventies or early eighties. The Leatherwood and White River country was sparsely settled with hunters and timber workers who did a little farming to supply the table. The Arkansas-Missouri state line divided the settlement and everything went well until two men got into a dispute over the ownership of a cow. One of them was a farmer living in Missouri, the other was a doctor living across the line in Arkansas. The bovine brute in question had no respect for fences or the state line. If the grass was greener in Missouri, she pastured there, but occasionally she wandered into Arkansas to feed on the luscious provender of the hillsides and creek valleys. When in the “Show Me State” the Missouri farmer claimed ownership, but when she came to Arkansas the doctor “replevined” her and put her in his cowpen. She was a good cow and her milk flowed as freely in one state as it did in the other. There was no Interstate Commerce Commission in those days to regulate such matters so the right of ownership in this particular case became the talk of the neighborhood. No blood was shed over the controversy, but there were fist fights from time to time when the argument went too far. At last the people of the community got tired of the uncertainty of the situation and petitioned the local justice of the peace to handle it according to law as it was written down in the book. The Squire agreed to consider the matter and rode over to Boat Mountain to consult a constable who frequently worked with him. They talked the matter over and decided to hold a trial “according to law” although they felt that the cow belonged to the Missourian. They figured the trial would draw a big crowd, if ’norated around considerable, and it would provide a good opportunity to sell a barrel of liquor. This would compensate judge and constable for their efforts in upholding law and order in the community. Cabins were few and far between in the hills in those days and none were large enough to serve as a courthouse. The Squire had his own seat of justice under a cliff at the edge of a paw paw thicket on Leatherwood Creek. Numerous trials were held here during the reconstruction period following the Civil War and justice was dispensed to the satisfaction of the people of the hills. A day was set for the trial and the constable began making the rounds, giving summons to witnesses and jurors. He hinted that the cow should go to the Missourian. The late Louis Haneke, who was sixteen years of age at that time, was one of the jurors. Mr. Haneke was a highly esteemed citizen of Eureka Springs in later years and operated a hotel at the spa. The cow trial was one of his best stories. The summons read by the constable to Louie was as follows: “Louie Haneke, you are hereby summoned as a juror in the case of the cow trial to be held in the Bluff Dweller Courthouse on Leatherwood Creek. You are selected and appointed because of your good citizenship and your great knowledge of the law.” Louie felt greatly complimented. On the morning of the day set for the trial, men began arriving early on foot, horseback and in wagons. Some of them brought their dogs and guns, hunting along the way. They hung their game in trees at the edge of the paw paw patch and stacked their guns, as the Squire ordered, in a corner of the rock shelter. A hillbilly minstrel was in the crowd with his guitar and he sang old ballads to entertain the men before court “took up.” Even during the trial the judge would frequently declare a recess and call on the ballad singer to give his version of “Barbara Allen” or “The Butcher Boy.” The rock shelter that served as a courthouse was under an overhanging ledge of rock that provided floor space about ten by thirty feet. The front was covered with rough boards with a wide opening for a door at one end. Near the door sat the barrel of moonshine whiskey which the judge used as a seat while conducting the trial. In front of him were a couple of two by four scantlings, resting on wooden boxes, which served as both a bar of justice and a bar for serving liquid refreshments. Several tin cups were on the improvised bar for the convenience of customers. The Squire arrived early at the “courthouse,” put a spigot in the barrel, set out his tin cups, and opened for business. As the men arrived, he wrote their names on the barrel with a piece of chalk. When the men ordered drinks, he marked a tally opposite the name for each drink served. Payment was to be made when the trial was over. Then each man paid according to the chalk marks opposite his name. Promptly at nine o’clock the judge rapped for order and the trial began. The men who claimed the cow were present with their The whiskey diminished rapidly as cup after cup was passed over the bar and by mid-afternoon the barrel was empty. The judge immediately called a halt to the proceedings and instructed the jury to go to the paw paw patch and find a verdict. After an hour in the thicket, the members of the jury discovered that they could not agree. Both the plaintiff and defendant were called in and questioned, but that didn’t help matters. Either the jury was putting on a show or some of its members were not following the court’s instructions. The Arkansas doctor was a sly man and had provided additional refreshments, hidden in a brush pile in the center of the thicket. At the opportune moment, he produced a couple of jugs and the contents were served complimentary to the jury. No one remembered what happened in that paw paw patch after the jugs were emptied. Most of the jurors were sawmill workers employed at Mrs. Massman’s saw mill. When news of the party in the paw paw thicket reached the mill, Mrs. Massman sent a man with a wagon to pick up the men that belonged to her outfit. Some of them had crawled to the stream for water and they were piled like cordwood in the wagon, hauled to the mill and lodged in a corncrib to sober up. A few of the men remained in the paw paw thicket. When these jurors woke up the next morning they found themselves marked with scratches, black eyes and bumps on the head. One of them had a couple of broken ribs. But none could recall what had happened the night before or how the trial ended. The men “washed up” at the creek and proceeded to the courthouse to pay for the liquor they had purchased during the trial. There sat the Squire on top of the empty barrel, sound asleep. They awoke him and paid their bills according to the tallies chalked up on the barrel against them. “How did the trial come out, Squire?” asked one of the men. “Did the Missourian get the cow?” “Gosh no,” answered the judge. “You drunken idiots gave her to the doctor.” “Well,” said the juror, “he had the most whiskey.” |
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