When most people think of Appalachia, if they think of it at all, images of inbred, googley-eyed country folk and their kin come to mind. I’m not totally convinced that they’re much more than a primitive sub-species of whites and live up to their creepy hick billing. However, I am not totally convinced that they are, and I emphatically respect their unwavering gumption to preserve their culture.
90 Seconds of the Old Ultra-Violence
Floyd Allen stood defiant-as-ever, before Judge Massie and excreted these legendary words, “Gentlemen, I ain’t goin.”
This signaled an abrupt end for Massie and four others, including a sheriff, an attorney, a jury foreman, and a 19-year-old chick that eventually succumbed to Karma. It was such a bizarre setting for three minutes marked by thunderous pistol cracks and clouds of smoke, soft flesh pierced with hot-metal, and putrid puddles of leaking plasma.
Three minutes that would irrevocably alter generations of life, fate would finally square up with Floyd Allen and put a period on his ultra-violent existence.
Ultra-Violence, the saga of Floyd Allen
The making of the man at the center of the Hillsville Court Massacre was littered with brutal acts and an unmanageable temper, that only amassed with fury. Floyd Allen was born on July 5^th, 1856, he was the patriarch of the “Allen Clan,” a notorious family in Carrol County, Virginia.
The Allens accentuated the independent pioneer, the anti-authority archetype of earlier Appalachian residents, a trait that had become slightly less prominent in their contemporaries. This mild divergence in temperament had distinguished the Allens as a bit excessive, even amongst the other Appalachians.
Floyd began life as a high-intensity individual, his mother reflected back to several occasions when, as a youngster, she’d have no other option but to tie his ass up until he cooled down. Floyd stood out, even in an environment where feuding hillbilles and making illegal Moonshine was par for the course, and spending lives was just a “cost of doing business”.
Disrespect was often a capital offense, and if felt to be justified, brutal revenge was a customary dish. Appalachia wasn’t quite the Wild West, but was steeped in violent tradition.
Floyd had blossomed into a complex dude, a man that could seamlessly transition from a violent beating or grizzly headshot to a successful proprietor and savvy democrat politician with an extensive reach. Below are excerpts are taken from his biography-
Allen was noted for his generosity, but also his quick temper and easily injured pride. He had a history of violent altercations, including shooting a black man in North Carolina, beating a police officer in Mount Airy and later shooting his own cousin. In May 1889, Floyd’s brothers, Garland and Sidna Allen, were tried for carrying concealed pistols and *aulting a group of thirteen men. In July 1889, the Carroll County court indicted Floyd for *ault as well, but in December of that year the Commonwealth’s Attorney dropped the case. In September 1889, after pleading no contest to the *ault, Garland and Sidna were fined $5 each plus court costs, and the prosecutor dropped the weapons charges.
Judge Jackson recalled a trial in 1904 in which Allen was convicted of *aulting a neighbor, Noah Combs. Floyd had wanted to buy a farm owned by one of his own brothers, but could not agree on a price. Combs wanted the land badly enough to pay the asking price and bought it despite Floyd Allen’s warnings not to “butt in.” Not long afterward, Allen shot and wounded Combs, and was indicted and tried on charges of *ault. Sentenced by the jury to an hour in jail and a $100 fine, plus costs, Allen immediately posted bail pending an appeal. His defense team included former Commonwealth’s Attorney Walter Tipton and recent County Court Judge Oglesby. At the next term of court, Allen produced an order of clemency from Governor Andrew J. Montague suspending the jail sentence.
When Floyd got back, he demanded that Combs pay his 100-dollar fine and he did!
In another instance, while arguing over the administration of their father’s estate, Allen got into a gunfight with his own brother, Jasper, known as “Jack”, a local constable. In a fusillade of shots, Allen hit Jack in the head, which struck a glancing blow on Jack’s scalp, while one of Jack’s bullets hit Allen in the chest. His pistol empty, Allen proceeded to beat Jack with the butt of his empty revolver. Sentenced to a $100 fine and one hour in jail for wounding Jack, Floyd refused to go, saying that he “would never spend a minute in jail as long as the blood flowed through his veins”. Floyd’s body bore the scars of thirteen bullet wounds, five of them inflicted in quarrels with his own family.
The massacre at the court, Allen’s ultimate undoing, was initiated by his utter rage over seeing two of his family members hogtied by two law dogs. It’s still a big mystery who opened fire that fateful day, but Floyd and his son Claude would be juiced to death for it.