Two Men from Dead Fall

By Neil Rucker

A story of two men one an aristocrat the other a dirt farmer both men enlisted in the Confederate Army and fought in many famous battles from Perryville, Kentucky to many of the battles in Tennessee. The war stories are taken from the diary of Charles Jacob (Jake) Armstrong until he lost his leg and was medically retired. He and his friend John Barganier returned to Butler County, Alabama both being elected to Office John Barganier became Sheriff and Jake Armstrong Tax Collector. Jake was murdered by two infamous outlaws of the time. The two outlaws were taken from the Butler County Jail and hung from the second-floor portico of the Courthouse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Neil Rucker
• Release date: Apr 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393495970

Neil Rucker

Neil Rucker is a fifth-generation Alabamian who grew up in Montgomery, Alabama. Neil has three books published. He is a retired law enforcement professional, having served thirty years as a State Trooper, State Criminal Investigator, and Chief Investigator in two different District Attorney's Offices. He has a BS Degree and an MS Degree. Neil has the unique ability to tell stories of both his knowledge and those past down through his family.

Book preview

Dedication

To my father John Burton (Jack) Rucker, who told me this story many times, as I was growing up, and who remembered, on his last day on earth, to tell me where to find the picture he wanted me to have, of the murders of his grandfather hanging from the balcony of the Butler County, Alabama Courthouse. I believe he wanted this story told and I am telling the story, of my great grandfather Charles Jacob (Jake) Armstrong, from his early years, through his service in the Confederate Army, to returning to Butler County and ultimately becoming Tax Collector and being murdered by two infamous highwaymen of the1890’s. 

I would like to further dedicate this book to Kay Knighton, without her help with research and her encouragement and other assistance, I would have never written this book.

Table of Contents

Prologue Page 5

Part ONE

Chapter One War Clouds Gathering Page 13

Chapter Two Hell Begins Page 41

Chapter Three Battle of Stones River ...Page 45

Chapter Four Battle of Chickamauga. Page 51

Chapter Five The siege of Chattanooga Page 55

Chapter Six Battle of New Hope Church.......................................................... Page 60

Chapter Seven Hospital..............................................................................Page 64

Part Two the Return Home and the Collapse of the Confederacy

Chapter Eight Home Again......................................................................... Page 73

Chapter Nine End of the Confederacy............................................................. Page 88

Chapter Ten Beginning of Political Careers/.................................................... Page 111

Chapter Eleven Life in Butler County Following Reconstruction............................ Page 115

Part Three The nightmare that was Hipp and Kelly

Chapter Twelve Reign of Terror begins.........................................................Page 120

Chapter Thirteen Joseph Touart................................................................... Page 125

Chapter Fourteen Investigation Begins.......................................................... Page 130

Chapter Fifteen Henry Barganier................................................................ Page 136

Chapter Sixteen Jake’s last Ride..................................................................  Page 144

Chapter Seventeen the Capture.....................................................................Page 148

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Prologue

To begin my tale of my great grandfather and his best friend, I need to explain how I became so interested in this story of two men from the little community of Dead Fall, Alabama. My account will include the stories of these two men and how they grew up in the pre-civil war days of South-Central Alabama. Including the young men becoming Confederate Soldiers with its horrors and their return home to the nightmare that was Reconstruction. The story will also be about their journey to become elected officials in the County of Butler and the horrible ending of my great grandfather's life by two infamous highwaymen of the later part of the nineteenth century.

In the spring of 1948, I was eight years old and would turn nine in July that year. We were riding down US 31 headed to Mobile, Alabama, to tour Bellingrath Gardens and see the magnificent show of springtime azaleas. I rode in the front seat with my Mother and Daddy. In the back seat were the Davises, which consisted of Oliver and Mary Sue Davis and their son and my best friend, Donald. I don't know why Donald's sister Sybil was not on the trip.

The adults on that trip were worried because there had been a freakish snowfall the night before. The storm had reached from Mobile up to just south of Montgomery. They were worried that by the time they got to Mobile, the Azaleas would have frozen, and the beautiful blooms would be gone. It was odd because snow rarely falls in South Alabama and much less that late in the spring. You could still see snow at the edge of the woods as we drove along.

On that day, I had my earliest recollection of realizing that people had come before me; I mean, it struck me that the world did not just begin when I was born. It was when I heard my Daddy start telling about his grandfather Jake Armstrong and how he served in the Confederate Army and had lost his leg in the war. We had just crossed a bridge over Panther Creek on US 31 south of Greenville, Alabama. My Daddy began telling the story of his grandfather and how he had been murdered crossing a bridge over Panther Creek, at that point on the old tram road that was the predecessor of US 31. Two outlaws had jumped from beneath the bridge over Panther Creek and robbed him and mortally wounded him.

I had never heard this story before then, so I was genuinely interested. I just had to ask questions about it. When I spoke up, my Mother let my Daddy have it for talking about murder in front of Donald and me. I was eight years old, and Donald was seven, and those kinds of things during those days was a taboo subject in front of children. That ended the story for that day. The next time I heard the story was from my Great Aunt Mattie later in that same year. She was my grandmother's older sister and the oldest child of Jake and Liz Armstrong.

My grandmother Ola Armstrong Rucker, her real name was Iola, but everybody called her Ola, had died when I was one year old; therefore, I had no recollection of her. My grandmother’s sister Aunt Mattie Armstrong Cross was receiving treatment for cancer in Montgomery, and she had come up from her home in Letohatchee, which is about twenty-five miles south of Montgomery in Lowndes County. She stayed at our house for nearly a week. One evening I was in my bedroom, and I could hear her talking to my parents about how her father's life ended, and the perpetrators were hung from a second-story balcony on the Courthouse in Greenville. I was in my bed, and my parents thought I was asleep. I got out of bed and crawled to the door that led from my room into the living room. I could hear the adults talking. I eased over as quite as I could and listened by the door as she was describing the events.

Aunt Mattie talked about how these thugs had murdered her father and several other people, including a Deputy Sheriff, who happened to be the Sheriff's brother. Aunt Mattie was quite a character, and she used some colorful language when she described the events. She also talked about how her father had lost his leg in what she called, The War of Northern Aggression. Aunt Mattie always referred to the civil war by that term. Mother would have fainted had she known I was listening. Aunt Mattie died not long afterward, and it was a long time before I ever heard the whole story.

I suppose the story just kind of slipped out of my mind until 1987 when my Daddy had a stroke. My Great Aunt Mattie always felt close to my Daddy; because once when he was in his early teens, he had gone down to Letohatchee and spent a whole year with his Aunt Mattie and her husband, Roger Cross. She had other relatives in Montgomery, and I suppose she could have stayed with the other relatives. Her brother Jefferson's two son's Samford Armstrong, who only lived a few doors from us and Jefferson's other son Harris Armstrong who lived a couple of streets over from us. They were my Daddy's first cousin's, but for some reason, I never knew why I always called them Uncle Sammie and Uncle Harris.

I remember Uncle Harris' son's Gene and Marion, who everybody called Buddy and their sister Carol, always called my Daddy Cousin Jack and my Mother Cousin Gladys. Uncle Sammie used to raise tumbler pigeons that I've never seen since. He would turn them loose sometimes, and my Daddy and I would stand in our backyard and watch them flying along and all of a sudden, they would begin tumbling toward the ground several feet then begin normal flying again. I was always amazed to watch those unique birds.

My Daddy had a stroke in the fall of 1986 and sustained damage to his ability to communicate, mainly not being able to remember anyone's name and using the wrong terms for everyday things. My daughter Paige was attending Troy University in Troy, Alabama, at that time. When she was born, she was his first granddaughter, and until my second daughter, Meredith, was born five years later, his only female grandchild. For whatever reason, because he never showed favoritism among his grandchildren, everything became a Troy. He would say things like hand me that Troy or do you see that Troy over there. It made communication with him challenging.

Then in August 1987, he had his final episode. He had become ill, and my Mother called his Doctor, and after a trip to his office, the Doctor sent him to Baptist Hospital in Montgomery. My wife and I, along with our daughter Meredith headed to Montgomery. He appeared to be doing well when we got there. We stayed all that day at the hospital, and late that afternoon, my Mother and my wife Dean, along with my daughter Meredith went down to the cafeteria in the hospital and left me alone with my father.

I was sitting in a chair reading the Montgomery Advertiser when I heard my father say, Neil. It startled me because he hadn't known anyone's name since October 1986 when he had his first stroke. I turned and said, Yes, Sir. He said, did I give you that picture and that story about my grandfather. I said, No Sir, you didn't, Daddy. He said," it's in the bottom drawer of the buffet in the dining room,