Tag: Mineral Point

[You’ll enjoy this article more if you read the first article, containing parts I-V, first! Parts I-V include: (I) the Berry Inn Ball; (II) the Berry Inn Brawl; (III) Caffee in Hiding; (IV) Trying Times; and (V) Conversations with Caffee. That article discussed the murder of Sam Southwick by William Caffee after a dance at the old Berry Inn, pleas for Caffee’s release, and his escape, re-imprisonment and trial. Caffee was sentenced to hang. The second half of this series tells what seems the end of Caffee’s story… but for Mineral Point’s Walker House, it was just the beginning!]

Part Six: Execution Myths

None of the original accounts of Caffee and Southwick mention an inn or any other landmarks at the hanging location. The Walker House was not yet built, despite its supposed establishment in 1836. Jack Holzhueter of the Wisconsin State Historical Society states that the building’s lot “wasn’t even purchased from the government until 1845” (Lewis and Terry, 80; Peterson). Additionally, founder William Walker did not move from Ireland to the United States until 1847 (“Relatively Haunted”). Berry’s Tavern, where Caffee actually shot Southwick, is much older. It is therefore safe to say that Caffee did not hang next to Wisconsin’s oldest inn.

Caffee also did not hang from a tree, as some versions of the story claim. Instead, a scaffold was placed on part of the “low ground below town, surrounded by an amphitheatre of hills which were literally covered by the eager multitude” (“Caffee’s Execution”). According to an 1893 issue of the Iowa County Democrat, the execution took place “where the Mineral Point depot now stands” (“Death of Warren Johnson”).

This description provides the exact location of the hanging. The Mineral Point Depot, constructed in 1856, still stands today across from the Walker House (“Mineral Point Railroad Museum”). Caffee’s hanging was also not the last execution in Wisconsin. John McCaffrey’s hanging takes that spot, and thousands of people flocked to Kenosha to watch the murderer die in 1851 (Historic Madison Inc.). McCaffrey had drowned his wife, Bridgett, in a well (Historic Madison, Inc.; “Wife-slayer hung”). In 1853, the death penalty was abolished in Wisconsin (Gajewski).

Part Seven: The Fateful Day

On November 1st, 1842, thousands of curious Wisconsinites flocked to the Mineral Point hanging site. It was a pleasant fall day, and the spectators occupied themselves with picnic lunches and conversation before the grand attraction arrived. The crowd of 4,000-5,000 was diverse, with people of “every age, sex, color, and condition…fully represented” (“Execution of Caffee”).

At two o’clock, a macabre parade assembled in front of the local jail (“Execution of Caffee”). At the front was Major Gray’s dragoons wielding pistols and sabers. Second was a band of uniformed men with muskets under the charge of Captain Shaw. Next was a series of horse-drawn wagons, one of which contained Caffee’s coffin (“Execution of Caffee”). Deputies brought him out in a long white robe and a cap, with a rope already tied around his neck. Caffee may have specially requested the robe, as white garments symbolized “entry into heaven” at the time (Miller).

Instead of taking a seat in the front of a wagon, Caffee sat astride his own casket. The rest of Shaw’s command followed Caffee’ wagon. Finishing off the assembly was Colonel Sublett’s company of dragoons (“Execution of Caffee”). There must have been some musicians in the group as well because a funeral dirge accompanied the strange procession. Caffee enjoyed the music, keeping beat to the melody by striking his coffin lid. Many accounts say he used two empty beer bottles, though he probably just used his fists (Lewis and Terry, 80-81; Godfrey, 39). In either case, Caffee made himself memorable.

The procession supposedly traveled down High Street and Commerce Street to the outskirts of town. A posse of seven Black Hawk War veterans kept the crowd thirty feet away from the hanging site. They wore handmade uniforms made from blankets and bed ticking (Carted). Warren Johnson led the group with a sword that he had never gotten to use in the war (“Death of Warren Johnson”; Carted). When Caffee arrived, sheriff George Messersmith helped him up the stairs to the gallows. Reverend Wilcox, who frequently visited Caffee in prison, also climbed the stairs and prayed for Caffee’s redemption in God’s eyes (“Execution of Caffee”).

Caffee showed no emotion during the whole ordeal. In prison, he had bragged about being able to “stare death out of countenance.” (“Execution of Caffee, Breihan et al.). His nonchalant attitude at the hanging seemed to prove this point. During speeches and prayers, Caffee leaned casually on one of the scaffold posts until it was time for the grim ceremony to end (“Execution of Caffee”). The sheriff asked Caffee if he had any last requests. Always the jokester, Caffee replied that he wanted the rope adjusted “with a good long slack” (“Execution of Caffee”).

Earlier that day, he had allegedly asked for a slice of Judge Jackson’s heart as his final meal (Gajewski; Godfrey, 39). The sheriff did the honors of pulling the cap over Caffee’s face, pulling the lever on the scaffold, and ending his existence (“Execution of Caffee”). Legend has it that Caffee’s friends tried to restore him to life, but he remained dead (Crawford 112; “Execution of Caffee”). Or did he?

Part Eight: The Haunting of the Walker House

The Walker House may well be one of America’s most haunted inns. William Caffee’s spirit is said to roam the halls, appearing in various forms to guests and employees alike. According to Becky Busher, a former Walker House employee, he “lives” on the third floor (Peterson). Some people also claim to see the apparition of a little girl who plays on the upper floors with a ghost cat and ghost dog (“Relatively Haunted”). It is unclear why they inhabit the building. Mysterious footsteps, voices from nowhere, and flying objects make the Walker House spirits seem almost cliché. But unlike most ghosts, William Caffee and his friends do not mean to hurt anyone. If anything, they may be trying to help with the building. They seem to like taking part in renovation plans, as they show up the most while the property is being refurbished.

Reports of the building’s strange activity began in 1964 when Ted Landon purchased the run-down property with dreams of restoring it to its original glory. The place had been abandoned since 1957, and fixing it brought unprecedented challenges (Godfrey 39; Norman and Scott, 452 – 453 Haunted Heartland). Aside from the substantial financial investment, Landon had to deal with spooky visitors while he organized repairs. He heard unknown footsteps and creepy breathing sounds that seemed to follow him wherever he worked. In 1978, Landon had enough and sold the building to Dr. David Ruf. One of Ruf’s first guests, a college student from Madison, left due to hearing the doorknobs constantly rattle while he was trying to sleep (Norman and Scott, 453 Haunted Heartland).

Part Nine: Calvert’s New Friends

Eager for some help, Dr. Ruf hired Walker Calvert (a descendent of the original owner, William Walker) to be his property manager and chef. Calvert started noticing paranormal events right away. Most afternoons, a wooden panel covering the water pipes would slide to one side on its own, before falling to the ground (Norman and Scott, 453-454 Haunted Heartland). It looked almost like some invisible person was inspecting the plumbing. But floating objects were commonplace compared to what Calvert would come to experience at the Walker House. In the late 1970s, Calvert had at least three chats with Caffee’s ghost. Employees would hear two men talking in the dining room, but when they came in, only Walker was there (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). Walker could not remember who he had been talking to or what they discussed. He spoke with the person in a semi-hypnotic state, never realizing that his conversation partner was not “real.”

Before his afternoon discussions with Calvert, Caffee helped the employees make breakfast. Early in the morning, before anyone had started cooking, Caffee was already getting the pots and pans together (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). He also liked to move the breadbox (Peterson). The clanging noises could be heard outside as kitchenware flew across the room. Workers in the kitchen felt like they were being watched, judged even. One cook refused to work in the kitchen alone (Peterson). Some employees had a difficult time getting into the building, as the door would lock on its own. Caffee usually locked up early at night, much to the dismay of Calvert and everyone working the late shift (Norman and Scott, 456 Haunted Heartland). It seemed that Caffee wanted to control who went in and out. Caffee’s ghost did not appreciate crowds very much, which is understandable considering the ruckus when he died (Balousek, 45). However, he was fond of certain people and would let them in. One morning, when Calvert and his wife Linda were opening up, Caffee was there to greet them with a disembodied “Hello!” (Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland).

Ever the partier, Caffee made sure to keep tabs on the alcohol. A bartender on the second floor was taking stock of the glassware when he heard heavy breathing and footsteps. After asking the ghost to leave him alone, he heard the noise slowly fade away (Norman and Scott, 455 Haunted Heartland). When they waitresses served drinks, they often bumped into something invisible but substantial (Peterson). Out of the corner of their eye, some of them saw “a white shape” (Norman and Scott, 454 Haunted Heartland). Occasionally, a beer bottle would fall to the floor without anyone disturbing it. If the legend that Caffee swung beer bottles on his coffin is true, he may have been confirming his identity (Norman and Scott, 458 Haunted Heartland).

Calvert commented in an interview with Beth Scott and Michael Norman that “The ghost was always doing something. It was as if he tried to prove to everyone in the Walker House that he was there” (455 Haunted Heartland). One of the ghosts, either the little girl or Caffee, loves to tug on people’s ears and hair. The little girl was more likely responsible for scaring Calvert in the root cellar. On a summer day in 1981, Calvert heard someone running up and down the cellar’s wooden steps “over and over again, like a child at play” (Norman and Scott, 456 Haunted Heartland). The cellar was well lit with electric light, but Calvert could not see anything that could have made the sound. The walls were made of thick rock, blocking out any noises from outside. The ghosts seemed to be visiting Calvert, and this was just the beginning of his encounters.

One day, Calvert was working in the office when he heard footsteps approaching. They stopped at his door. When Calvert got up to open the door and investigate, he did not see anyone. Everything was normal until he heard a low groan, which intensified into a horrendous growl (Norman and Scott, 455 Haunted Heartland). This noise may have been the ghost dog, or Caffee playing a prank. Either way, Calvert would never forget the experience.

Calvert finally saw what appeared to be Caffee’s spirit in 1981. It was a cool October evening, and the atmosphere was perfect for a ghost sighting. Calvert was checking the door that opened from the second-floor barroom onto the porch. As he walked outside, Calvert was shocked to find a headless figure sitting on the bench. He looked old and wore a gray mining jacket with denim pants. There was a black, felt hat where his head should have been. Calvert was not concerned with the ghost’s sudden appearance. He had spent so much time interacting with Caffee that he felt he knew the ghost well. Calvert recalled what he saw that day in a matter-of-fact way:

He was just a rumpled, funny-looking old man. His clothes were pretty nice, but they were old, dusty, and wrinkled. He was sitting on the bench facing me. I knew right away it was Caffee. But I didn’t reach out to touch him. I didn’t want to get that close. (Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland)

(Walker Calvert as quoted by Norman and Scott, 457 Haunted Heartland)

When Calvert glanced away, the man disappeared. He assumed the apparition was Caffee because ghosts of hanging victims frequently appear without their heads. The figure was also wearing a mining jacket, which makes sense given Caffee’s occupation as a miner in White Oak Springs. The only thing that does not make sense is the age of the ghost. Caffee died at 29, so why was the ghost so old?

In Haunted Heartland, Beth Scott and Michael Norman point out that spirits “can come back at the age [they] feel” (458). Maybe Caffee felt like an old man after spending all those years wandering the Walker House. Oddly enough, a waitress saw the ghost of a young man a few days later. He had a head and only appeared for a couple of seconds before fading away. Perhaps Caffee wanted to flirt with the waitress by showing her what he looked like when he was alive.

One employee accidentally gave Caffee’s ghost a ride back to her house. Debra Enerson said that she was leaving the Walker House when she noticed the carpooler: “I got in the car and I felt someone was there. I could hear someone breathing. I don’t mind the guy. He didn’t bother me” (Peterson). Debra also points out that Caffee’s ghost likes to come out in the morning and at the “bewitching hour” of “5 or 6 pm” (Peterson). At those times, the pub suddenly becomes drafty: “The rest of the place can be warm, but it gets cool in there. People can feel his presence, feel him whoosh past them” (Peterson). In addition to Caffee’s presence and the little girl’s spirit, there may have been many more ghosts in the 1980s. According to The Wisconsin Road Guide to Haunted Locations, there was an exorcism in 1984 to cast out the “seven spirits that were said to haunt the place” (Lewis and Terry, 82). Apparently, the exorcism did not do much good, because the sightings were far from over.

Part Ten: Sightings in the 21^st Century

The ghosts kept rather quiet in the 1990s and early 2000s. After Calvert and subsequent owners left, the property was abandoned once again. By 2002, the Walker House was on the “most endangered properties in Wisconsin” list (Brown, 209; “Relatively Haunted”). Joseph and Suzan Dickinson bought the building in 2008, taking on the herculean task of repairing years of vandalism and disrepair. In total, the Dickinsons replaced over two-hundred pounds of leaded glass during their restoration of the property. Oddly enough, all of that glass was broken from the inside (“Relatively Haunted”). The Dickinson’s think it was the work of vandals, but there could have been paranormal activity involved.

With their haunting grounds disturbed, the spirits were on high alert. They came to like the owners but were wary of any strangers. One day Joseph Dickinson was away from town and asked his daughter to check in on the Walker House. It was a frigid day, so she went over to make sure that none of the pipes were freezing. Suddenly she encountered an unknown man who told her, “get the hell out, you’re not the owner” (“Relatively Haunted”). Joseph Dickinson explained that the man was “very protective of the building” and sometimes acted like a supervisor when he was away (“Relatively Haunted”). The mysterious figure stood at the top of the stairs and watched as the food was being prepared.

Aside from the strange man, there were also some other unusual happenings. For example, Dickinson’s grandson experienced the floor “weaving” underneath his feet (“Relatively Haunted”). Visitors allegedly saw floating heads and moving chairs (Akamatsu, 167). The ghosts messed with technology by draining batteries, making the phone ring when no one was on the line, and playing voicemails “that had been deleted long ago” (“Relatively Haunted;” Godfrey, 40). Cameras supposedly acted up in the Walker House. When they did work, the photos they captured featured orbs and misty wisps (Godfrey, 39, Institute of Extreme Beauty).

The Dickinsons welcomed paranormal investigators into the Walker House, hoping that some unique publicity would bring them the funds they needed to keep the building. In 2011, the Relatively Haunted team did a special on the Walker House, where they attempted to communicate with William Caffee’s spirit. The Dickinson’s created ghost-related newsletters and publications to help with the fundraising efforts (Brown, 210). Unfortunately, they were unable to keep up with costs in the great recession and had to give up the building.

In 2012, Dan and Kathy Vaillancourt took over and have been running the restaurant and inn ever since. The new owners vehemently deny the existence of any ghosts. They even have a website page “debunking” some of the supposed ghost activity . Unlike the Dickinsons, they avoid reaching out to ghost hunters and fans of the supernatural. To them, ghost stories are just a small part of the rich history surrounding the Walker House.

Whether the Walker House is haunted or not is ultimately up to the visitor to decide. The building is fascinating to explore with or without unexplained presences and things that go bump in the night. Whatever the case may be, William Caffee’s bold exploits will not be forgotten anytime soon. If they are, he might just come back to refresh our memories.

Works Cited

Come back for more Driftless Lore by Nettie Potter next week!

Parts I-V: the Berry Inn Ball, the Berry Inn Brawl, Caffee in Hiding, Trying Times, and Conversations with Caffee

by Nettie Potter

The Walker House is an imposing three-story structure located in Mineral Point, Wisconsin. Since its alleged establishment in 1836, the building has changed hands many times. Originally an inn and pub, the Walker House has also been an art gallery and meeting hall over the years. The old building is expensive to maintain, which could account for the frequent shifts in management. But there may be another reason why buyers leave so quickly. Some say a tavern spirit haunts the premises, eager to avenge his death.

Legend has it that after a night of drinking and partying at the Walker House, William Caffee killed his rival, Samuel Southwick, in a dramatic duel (Brown, 209; Norman and Scott, 194 Haunted Wisconsin). He was then sentenced to hang next to the tavern. A few conflicting accounts say that after murdering Southwick in a nearby town, Caffee went to the Walker House to hide. Authorities found him, put him in shackles, and condemned him to hang near his old hideout (Godfrey, 39). Others say that Caffee was a notorious horse thief. When he stopped at the Walker House for a drink, a mob carried him off and lynched him (Akamatsu, 167; Steiger). Whatever the case may be, Caffee got a taste of “frontier justice” when he was hung outside the Walker House in 1842. His was the last hanging in Wisconsin, next to the state’s oldest inn (Balousek, 44; Jacobson). Since then, people say Caffee’s ghost has roamed the Walker House seeking revenge. To this day, workers at the inn see his apparition and flee in terror.

What really happened to William Caffee? Was he a horse thief, a gentleman, or a cold-blooded killer? Most importantly, is he still making his presence known? The true story of the Walker House ghost may differ from what the locals are used to, but it is just as compelling and strange. This ten-part series will explore the life, death, and afterlife of a Mineral Point icon.

Part One: The Berry Inn Ball

It all started at Berry Tavern, now called the Lamar House, on the night of February 22nd, 1842. Adeline Berry and her husband Fortunatus Berry were hosting a “Birth-Night Ball” to celebrate the 110th anniversary of George Washington’s birthday (Breihan et al.). They invited everyone they knew to their inn (and home) at Gratiot’s Grove, in what is now as Shullsburg. As part of the festivities, the guests would participate in an advanced form of square dancing known as the cotillion (Breihan et al.).

One of those to receive an invitation to the ball was William Caffee, a 29-year-old miner from White Oak Springs, Wisconsin. Bill was an aggressive and determined man, perhaps because he became an orphan at the age of eight and was left to care for his three younger brothers (Find a Grave). Although Bill could be crude and brash at times, he had a soft spot for dancing. Each dance gave miners a rare opportunity to socialize and woo the ladies. As such, Bill tried to behave himself at Berry’s gatherings.

But on the February 22nd party, he had too much to drink, and his short-temper got the better of him. He claimed he would like to kill, or at least punch, Charles Gratiot (“Trial”). Gratiot liked organization and insisted that callers bring only a set number of people to the dance floor at a time. Caffee hated this rule (and therefore Gratiot). He also assumed the dance caller, Amos Culver, left him out of the fun by avoiding his name. Caffee asked Amos to join him for a drink, hoping to get some answers. Culver explained that he had called Caffee’s name last dance, and did not usually call names twice in a row. Caffee demanded to see the list of names. After Culver gave him the list, Caffee ran off with it yelling, “If I can’t dance, then no one should!” (“Trial”).  

Part Two: The Berry Inn Brawl

Caffee hid the list in his pocket, then went outside with his friend Charles Lamar for a chat. He warned the other partygoers not to follow him for the list, threatening, “I’ll cut the God-damned heart out of any man that gets in my way” (“Trial”). Sam Southwick ignored the warning and started advancing toward Caffee. Southwick was the cousin of Adeline Berry and a “peaceable man” according to most accounts. But, unfortunately for him, Southwick chose this day to strike up a fight. He picked up a piece of firewood and looked ready to swing.

Caffee told Southwick to stand back or be killed. He had never met the man before but knew instantly that he did not like him. Sam Southwick did not move very fast as he was a 54-year-old man with a limp. Caffee pulled out a pistol almost immediately and shot him near the heart. Lamar checked in on Southwick and asked how he was doing, to which Sam responded, “I am a dead man” (“Trial”).

Lamar turned on Caffee. “What have you done?” he asked. Bill simply said, “I told him to stand back” (“Trial”). By now, a crowd of people had gathered at the scene. Lamar tried to fight Caffee but stopped when he shouted, “Charley, don’t lay your hands on me,” and someone in the crowd said Caffee had a knife (“Trial”).

According to court testimonies, Samuel Southwick died at 1 am on February 23rd, 1842, a few minutes after the shot was fired. Caffee fled from the scene.

Part Three: Caffee in Hiding

After the shooting, Caffee ran to his hometown of White Oak Springs, Wisconsin. When he arrived in the area, he met Charles Lamar, Samuel Scales, and Samuel Dunbar, who had all been at the ball when the shooting occurred (Breihan et al.). They tried in vain to get Caffee to turn himself in. Lamar has been a constable and told Caffee he had a solid argument for a self-defense case. Caffee was unconvinced and rode off on horseback with his brother Ben. He traveled past Iowa and eventually wound up in St. Louis (Breihan et al.).

During his travels, Caffee met one of a notorious band of horse thieves and counterfeiters. (This encounter started the rumor, mentioned earlier, that William Caffee also stole a horse.) When Caffee tried to turn in the gang member and collect his substantial reward, the criminal reportedly exposed him to the sheriff as the man who shot Sam Southwick (Breihan et al.). Both men ended up in jail.

On June 17th, 1842, Wisconsin territorial governor James Doty “appointed the politically connected Mississippi steamboat captain John Atchison territorial marshal” (Breihan et al.). He then sent Atchison on a mission to pick up Caffee in St. Louis. He promised Atchison a $113.75 payment for returning the prisoner. The next month, Atchison arrived in Mineral Point with Caffee but never received any money (Breihan et al.).

Part Four: Trying Times

Caffee’s trial began on September 13th, 1842, in a small log courthouse in Mineral Point – the Iowa county seat at the time (Carted; “Iowa County Courthouses”). Judge Charles Dunn presided over the court. Attorney General Mortimer Melville Jackson served as the prosecutor, claiming that “All the circumstances of this case conspire to establish, clear as the sun at noon day, and as strong as holy writ, the proof of the prisoner’s guilt” (“Caffee’s Trial”).

Moses Strong served as the defense attorney, assisted by Platteville mine owner Lorenzo Bevans. John Blackstone, Fortunatus Berry, R.C. Buzan, Laban Cassidy, Amos Culver, William Dering, Beon Gratiot, Charles Gratiot, Edward Gratiot, J.R. Gratiot, Samuel Huddlestone, Charles Lamar, David Lufkin, and Joseph Scales were among the many who took the witness stand (Breihan et al.; Crawford, 113; “Caffee’s Trial;” “Trial“). Each of their testimonies matched up, with the exception of Joseph Scales. While the rest of the witnesses stated that Southwick did not hit Caffee, Scales thought he saw Caffee dodging Southwick’s blows (“Caffee’s Trial”).

On September 16th, the jury pronounced Caffee guilty. He showed no emotion during the verdict, remaining “cool and unconcerned” (“Caffee’s Trial”). Caffee’s counsel requested a second trial, so the court decided to reconvene on September 21st. On that day, the motion for a new trial began with affidavits claiming there had been some drinking going on in the jury room. This motion was overruled when the deponent, Thomas Gloster, admitted that he had bought the liquor in the first place (“Caffee’s Trial”). On September 24th, Caffee came to court in irons. He objected to the law clerk, “I don’t think I have had a fair trial, as the evidence against me was not true” (Breihan et al.; “Caffee’s Trial”).

The clerk lamented that someone as young and handsome as Caffee should be sentenced to death. He expressed his sincere hope that Caffee would repent, and that the execution would prevent similar incidents in the future. After insisting that the trial was indeed fair, he announced the sentence:

_{It is the Judgment of the Court, and the Sentence of the Law, that you, William Caffee, for the crime of Murder, of which you stand convicted, be taken hence to the jail of this county, and there safely and securely kept, until Tuesday, the First Day of November next, on which day, between the hours of 10 o’clock, A. M. and 4 o’clock, P. M. you shall be taken from said jail, and then and there publicly hanged by the neck, until you are dead. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul.}

“Caffee’s Trial”

Soon after the verdict, Caffee’s friends allegedly made plans to break him out of the Mineral Point jail but did not follow through. Instead, they petitioned the governor to stop the hanging and issue a less severe punishment (Crawford, 112). Governor Doty thought that long term imprisonment was not enough for a murderer and did not commute the sentence. In a letter to the Iowa County sheriff, George Messersmith, he wrote:

_{There is little doubt that if Caffee had not lived in a society in which the practice of carrying about the person concealed weapon was not only tolerated, but considered rather as distinguishing the gentleman, than the ruffian or bully, he would not have been guilty of shedding Southwick’s blood. It is painful to see the effect of this barbarous custom visited upon one so young; but I do not learn that since his confinement he has exhibited any evidence of contrition, or that he is fully sensible that his situation which has awakened so strong a sympathy in the bosoms of his friends is occasioned by his violation of the laws of his country, or that he is yet aware that those laws are supreme and that no man has the right to take the life another for any private injury.}

James Doty

Caffee did not have any desire to apologize for his actions. Instead, he was hell-bent on making life difficult for his captors. Each week, a blacksmith named James James arrived to re-rivet Caffee’s iron shackles. Whenever he removed the constraints, Caffee threatened, “You had better be careful how you put the irons [back] on, for if I should get loose, you might be sorry” (Carted; Crawford, 112). Caffee’s claims that he would get free were not taken lightly. Mineral Point authorities stationed four armed men to watch Caffee’s cell, just in case (Crawford, 112)

Part Five: Conversations with Caffee

Despite Caffee’s rough facade, he was quite light-hearted around visitors. He frequently joked about his upcoming doom in a way that he upset his friends and family. When his brothers came to visit him for the last time, he apologized for not taking his death more seriously (“Execution of Caffee”). On Halloween night, the day before he went off to the gallows, he wrote letters to his loved ones asking forgiveness. He shared his account of what went down at the Berry house and his sudden spiritual revelations. Two of the letters appeared in a local paper and are copied below.

The first letter is to his uncle, A.S. Daugherty:

Dear Uncle,

It was your request that I should leave a statement of those who swear false against me, which I declined at that time; but to satisfy your mind that false evidence convicted me, I will give you a full detail of the transaction. I went to the ball at Capt. Berry’s on Tuesday night, as I usually went to balls, with only the arms that Bryant stated. About 9 o’clock, I had some words with Gillet. I finally told him if he did not let me alone that I would cut him open; to which he asked me not to jump on him; I replied I would not, and so left him. Everything was peaceable until about 12 o’clock when they refused to call my name. I went to Culver and asked him to call my name, which he refused to do. I then asked him to let me have the list, and he gave it to me. I went down stairs, and said I was going home; I was followed into the bar room and collared, and the list demanded of me; I told them they should have it as soon as I looked at it. I do not know who it was collared me, but I pulled loose of them, and went out of the house. When I got to the door, I met Lamar, and stopped to talk with him. I pulled out my knife and said if they undertook to take it from me, I will cut some of them open; and put it up again; and while we were standing there, three or four came out with clubs, and Southwick struck me on the shoulders, and Lamar pushed me off the steps. I stepped back and told them not to strike me any more. Then Southwick turned a club at me, and said to “beat him to death” or something of that kind; but Southwick kept on striking at me, and me backing out, and asking him to desist, till I got to the ditch, and fell to my knees, and when I raised I shot. When I fired I said, “Now God Damn you, you have got it.” I then started home, and Scales came to me and told me to get into the State as quick as I could; and I went to the Springs, and there saw Lamar again; and he told me not to go, for I was defending myself, but I told him it would cost me a good deal, and so I made off. I made no other threats than I have mentioned; and all others that was swore to was false. You heard the evidence, and who gave it. I will not call any names; only Capt. Berry, as he swore to the most of any; though I freely forgive, and do sincerely hope, when they are called to stand before the tribunal of Almighty God, that all their sins may be forgiven, and that they may sit on his right in peace for ever. As my time in this world is running short, I will close by giving you my dying thanks for your support on my behalf. Give my love to Aunt Polly, Margaret, and all the family. These handcuffs are so in the way or I would write more. Tell brother Ben farewell. Farewell to all!  (“Caffee’s Letters”).

The second letter is to his cousin, Miss Margaret M. Daugherty:

Dear Cousin,

When you was here you asked me to join you in prayer, which I thought trouble at that time. But thanks be to God for his merciful kindness to me in giving me grace to believe myself forgiven. He has shown me his only Son crucified for my sins as plain as I see to write to you. I can now ask you to hold out faithful, and send me in that world where all tears are wiped away. Tell brother Ben to address himself to our heavenly Father who alone can save in hour of trouble. I want you to write to all my brothers, and tell them I die happy, and that I hate to leave them but I do not hate to die, for I am going home, and hope to meet all there. Tell Levi [that] when he was here, [I] was in a passion, and did not talk rational, but the Lord has taken away that stubborn heart, and gave me a heart to know and feel his love. I could write forever, but my time has come. I must go home; so I must bid you farewell, but not forever, I hope. Farewell! (“Caffee’s Letters”).

Towards the end of his life, Caffee believed he was going to a better place. Convinced of his salvation, he looked forward to what awaited him on “the other side.” According to one account, Caffee “was not without hope of happiness” after his death (“Execution of Caffee”). Caffee knew he was “going home” after the hanging, but was “home” actually the Walker House?

Come back later this week for parts six through ten of “Tavern Spirits”!

Works Cited

[Editor: The above “Works Cited” page includes sources for both these five sections and the next installment of parts six through ten. Because of that, it comes with an unusual disclaimer. As Potter will show in the next five sections, a few of these sources–particularly those claiming Caffee stopped in at the Walker House–have not checked primary sources of the trial! That’s one reason for putting this story in print. In contrast, those sources closer in time to the actual event are true. The next five sections will look in more detail at the many ghost stories surrounding William Caffee and others at the Walker House.]