Moonshine Murder: 52 Ancestors 2023 Prompt “Spirits”

 Young “Revenuer” Shot by Owner of a Distillery

Francis “Frank” Weir: 1865-1890 (Maternal 3^rd Cousin 2x Removed)

 

While young Frank Weir was a distant relative—a third cousin twice removed doesn’t even qualify as a “kissing cousin”—his story is so interesting I wanted to write it up. It is a remarkable little piece of American history.

We all know a little about bootleg liquor and the efforts of the federal government to tax and control the liquor trade. After all, we’ve heard about illegal stills, mostly in rural areas of Appalachia where people distilled moonshine, and we know that there were violent confrontations between the G-men (now ATF or the Dept of Alcohol Tobacco and Firearms) and the moonshiners that sometimes led to death. Most of these stories stem from the Prohibition era, which ran from 1920 to 1933. However, the history of violent interactions between “revenuers” (alcohol tax collectors) and liquor distillers started much earlier than Prohibition, and involved other types of liquor besides moonshine. Edward Rumsey Weir’s grandson, Francis “Frank” Weir, was a victim of this violence and rebellion. He was killed by a brandy distiller in rural Barren County, Kentucky on September 19, 1890. He was only 25 years old.

Francis Weir was born February 18, 1865 in Greenville, Kentucky. His father, Col. Edward Rumsey Weir Jr., had served in the Civil War as a Union officer, and had been mustered out before war’s end in 1864. He had married Eliza Triplett Johnson of Owensboro earlier that year. Francis was the eldest of their six children.

Frank appears on the 1880 federal census as a 15-year-old student. After that, he doesn’t appear in Kentucky records again until he started employment with the Internal Revenue Service as a “storekeeper gauger”. I was unfamiliar with this job title, so did a little research. The positions involved measuring and verifying alcohol produced and warehoused by distilleries, in order to assess taxes on the liquor.

The tax on spirits became a huge portion of national tax revenue in the late 1800s. William Miller’s article cited below (see No. 2) states that in 1876, liquor taxes comprised 48 percent of all national revenue, and by 1892 the percentage climbed to a staggering 59 percent—six out of every ten tax dollars came from liquor taxes (pg 20).

In 1890, the year young Frank Weir was killed, the “whiskey” tax on distilled liquor was ninety cents per gallon—a considerable sum in those days, equivalent to over $30 per gallon in today’s money. Political allegiances had little impact on the distilleries’ compliance with tax laws. “A military officer reported that the hostility to the revenue laws is not confined to one political party but is general.’ It was the tax to which mountain people objected regardless of who collected it.” (pg 7)

William Miller noted that “blockaders intimidated and bushwhacked revenue officers.” (pg 8). The most violent years were 1877-78. Miller wrote: “After the government intensified its campaign against illegal distillers in 1876, gun battles between revenue posses and moonshiners became common.” (pg 7)

Frank’s job was normally quite safe. He worked at “bonded” warehouses—distilleries that were complying with the Revenue Service. Local newspapers published the names of the storekeepers and gaugers on a regular basis, listing the employee’s name and the distillery he would be working at for the period.

From March 6, 1890 Twice a Week Messenger

Frank Weir spent most of his time at Owensboro area distilleries, and the newspapers reported that he was well liked:

“He was appointed to the revenue service about fifteen months ago, soon after Collector Feland took charge of his office. For some time he was assigned to duty at one of the Owensboro distilleries and had made a number of friends here. He was a pleasant young man of good habits, and the shocking murder by which he lost his life will be much regretted here.” (No. 3 below.)

“Weir was a model young man in every respect. At the internal revenue office it was said he was the best general officer in the service. He always did his duty well and there was never any trouble with his reports. When last in Owensboro, about a month ago, he announced his intention of resigning his office and going to Chicago to go into business. Great pity it is he did not resign then.” (No. 4 below.)

So what was Frank doing out in Barren County that day? According to news reports, the Second Internal Revenue District’s Division Deputy Collector, J.E. Biggerstaff, had levied a tax on whisky produced in 1889 by the Parker & Button distillery located near the Barren County town of Lucas. The distillery had failed to pay the tax, so Biggerstaff had ordered the sale of hogs and some whisky owned by the distillery partners at a public sale later in September, with the proceeds used to pay the $160 tax bill. One article stated,

“Fearing the removal of the hogs by Button before the day of sale, Deputy Collector Biggerstaff, in a buggy, accompanied by young Weir, yesterday went to Button’s to see about removing the hogs himself to some safe place.” (No. 3 below)

Herding hogs was not a one-man job, so Biggerstaff apparently brought Frank along to help him corral the critters. Biggerstaff left Frank alone with the buggy and horse near Button’s property while he went to try to persuade a neighbor to provide a place to pen the hogs until the sale date. He had trouble finding a cooperative neighbor, so didn’t return for two hours. By then, Frank and the buggy were missing. After a search, the buggy and horse were found a half mile away. The horse had been treated with more concern than poor Frank; the horse had been unhitched from the harness and was left browsing the grass along the roadside. Frank’s body was found one hundred yards from the buggy’s original location. He had been shot through the body with a Spencer rifle. At first it appeared he had been shot twice, but the second hole in his body was the bullet’s exit wound.

Suspicion immediately turned to W.C. Button, the owner of the hogs, half-owner of the distillery, and the owner of a Spencer rifle. He claimed he knew nothing of the murder and had been away from home at the time. However, at the inquest, two men testified that while cutting timber near the road where Frank Weir was killed, they saw Button pass by. Another witness reported Button asked workers at the mill down the road who was parked near his property, galloping off when he heard the buggy belonged to Biggerstaff. The timber cutters saw him pass by again, this time with a rifle, and they tesitified they later heard two shots.

While there were no eyewitnesses to the crime and no direct physical evidence, Button was arrested. The trial was postponed for several months despite strong public sentiment to get justice for young Weir. There was also considerable support for Button. A news article on the trial preparations reported that the prosecution had twenty-four witnesses scheduled, and the defense had over forty.

Unfortunately, the trial never took place. Button developed tuberculosis and died in jail a year after Frank’s murder. Button’s attorneys had filed a motion asking the court to release him so he could die at home. The Louisville Courier Journal reported that he had to be carried into court “on a lounge and presented a most pitiful sight” and that it was “obvious the man could live but a few days longer.” The motion was denied by the judge, and Button died in jail, claiming to the end that he was innocent. The article noted, “The prevalent belief, however, is that he was guilty.”

Frank Weir’s death truly was tragic because it was so pointless. If you object to government actions, you need to take your case to the ballot box, not turn to violence and murder. While I can see that liquor taxes were ridiculously high during the late 1800s, I feel that distillers could have easily passed on the cost of the tax to their customers. Instead, they tried to evade taxes and treated the tax collectors as enemies. Frank Weir was no one’s enemy. He was a young man trying to do the job the taxpayers were paying him to do.

Sources:

1.       Officer Down Memorial Page entry: “Storekeeper-Gauger Frank Weir” https://www.odmp.org/officer/24249-storekeeper-gauger-frank-weir

2.       The Revenue: Federal Law Enforcement in the Mountain South, 1870-1900.Wilbur R. Miller. The Journal of Southern History, Vol. 55, No. 2 (May, 1989), pp. 195-216 (22 pages) https://doi.org/10.2307/2208902 https://www.jstor.org/stable/2208902

3.       “Brutally Murdered: Young Frank Weir, a Government Storekeeper, Shot to Death”. Owensboro Twice a Week Messenger, Owensboro KY, Sep 23, 1890. Accessed on Newspapers.com.

4.       “Poor Frank Weir: The Victim of the Cold-Blooded Barren County Murder”. Owensboro Twice a Week Messenger, Owensboro KY, Sep 25, 1890. Accessed on Newspapers.com.

5.       “Storekeeper-Gaugers”. Owensboro Twice a Week Messenger, Mar. 6, 1890. Owensboro Messenger Inquirer. Aug. 27, 1890. Accessed on Newspapers.com.