The Holmes family operated a sawmill in Fannin County, Georgia, and had a standing order for timber to a fellow around Conyers. Sometime in the fall of 1889, Charles Henry Barnes (1861-1890) and the 2nd youngest Holmes son Henry Meriwether Holmes (1864-1890) partnered up on a load of wood to sell to another man, also in the Conyers area. They had agreed to stack the lumber at the sawmill until they had it all together before loading it up to haul south.
But unbeknownst to Henry, Charlie Barnes was coming around during the early morning hours with a negro man (Lucas Bohannon) and stealing some of the planks, but never enough to be noticed, for several nights running.
Another negro man, a friend of Bohannon’s, knew of this theft and happened to know old man Holmes, Joseph Henry, and gave him a head’s up. Whereupon, he and three of his other sons decided to stake out the sawmill and caught the Charlie in the act. Confronted, Charlie Barnes tried bluffing his way out, where upon he was shot by Chester Holmes the oldest of the sons. He didn’t intend to kill him, just wound him enough to stop him from getting away. However, the bullet pieced his lung, as well as a main artery and Charlie died of the wound a week later despite the best efforts of Sarah an Indian herbal healer.
The negro man Bohannon, who witnessed it all, was accused of murder by the Holmes family, taken into custody by the Sheriff of Fannin County, but later lynched by an angry mob. During this time it was unheard of for a negro accused of shooting a white man to be acquitted. His possible innocence was not considered.
LOCATION: North Georgia hills
PERIOD: March 1890
DRAMATIS PERSONAE: Charles Henry Barnes (1861-1890); Joseph Henry Holmes (1839-1907); Chester Williams Holmes (1861-1913); Thomas Heath Holmes (1862-1931); Dwight Dewey Holmes (1863-1909); Henry Meriwether Holmes (1864-1890).
Murder At the Sawmill
(F. D. Leone, Jr.)
Chilly night, early March;
Dwight stampin’ his feet; rubbin’ his head.
“Stop fidgeting,” Chester barked,
“They be here soon,” Joe Henry said.
“I wanna catch ’em in the act.”
Dwight slunk behind a tree and sat.
“It ain’t that cold, y’all keep still.”
They heard the truck a-coming up the hill.
“Chester, be ready at my word;
Dwight, come out from behind that tree.”
Thomas shot a stream of tobacco to the dirt;
It was probably going’ on about three.
There they were, Barnes and his man;
Lucas Bohannon and Barnes began,
Loading some of Holmes’s planed boards,
Into Herny Barnes’s flat bed Ford.
They came from Ireland and Scotland,
To the Appalachian mountains.
Fiercely independent, stubborn to the core;
Still fighting the same old bitter war.
Joe stepped into the grey light of the moon,
“Barnes I didn’t spect to see you here.”
“Hello Joe, I could say the same to you.”
Lucas did his best to disappear;
Chester shot Henry Barnes twice in the chest;
Joe Henry told the shurf it happened just like this:
“Lucas Bohannon killed Barnes with this here gun”
That was good enough for the shurf and everyone.
The mob had gone home for supper;
It was empty on the courthouse square.
Quiet and still, now that it was over;
The sweet smell of dogwood in the air.
A group of negros had come to town,
To collect and cut Brother Lucas down.
He was accused of shooting a white man;
Town didn’t care if they’d hung the right man.
They came from Ireland and Scotland,
To the Appalachian mountains.
One generation back they lost a bloody war;
They wanna keep things just like they were before.
© 2024 Frank David Leone, Jr./Highway 80 Music (ASCAP). The songs and stories on the Highway 80 Stories website are works of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Highway 80 Stories 