The Memoirs of Clifton Branham
 
(Some of this story, including the memoirs, was excerpted from an article written by Darold Phipps for Mountain People and Places, and published in the Dickenson Star, June, 1989.)
 
Here is the story of Clifton Branham, a man, who after serving some fifteen years in prison for his part in one killing, was pardoned, became a preacher, then shot and killed his wife in a family squabble, mounted his horse, rode to Kentucky, remarried, and committed yet another murder.
 
These are the memoirs of Clifton Branham, written by him while awaiting execution in Wise County jail for the murder of his wife Nan.
 
(A picture of the gallows at Wise, Virginia where Clifton was hung.)
 
THE MEMOIRS:
 
I was born in the year 1861, on the Cabin Branch in Letcher County, Ky. My father was a farmer by occupation. Both parents were members of the Baptist church. In that year the Civil War broke out. So we moved to Dorton Creek, Pike County, Ky., where we lived during the war. The last year of the war I can remember seeing the soldiers as they moved through the mountains.
 
My father and two brothers were in the war. My father was captured and taken to Camp Chase. When he returned till the close of the war. My mother had moved to the north of Cumberland Mountain, near Elkhorn Creek. There was mother and I, a brother and four sisters at home. Then my father returned. My mother did not know him at first, but when she did recognize him there was a happy meeting. My mother had a hard time during the war, and was away weekly until I was about 10 years old. At that time my brothers and sisters commenced to marry and leave. We lived there for several years afterwards.
 
There was plenty of game in the woods at that time. We moved to a creek called Beef Hide and there was only the two youngest sisters and myself at home. Later on, my father bought a piece of land on the Owl Branch and built a cabin upon it, where the base was partly laid and the chimney was up to the mantel, when father and I moved in. There was not a (too dim to make out the words) and I was now 12 years old and fond of a gun. We would work all week till Saturday afternoon when my father and I squirrel hunted and my little feet would roam the mountains in search of game, never thinking that anything ever would befall me, nor did I ever think of harming anyone.
 
About this time I began to think that my father was not doing me right, so I left home and went to Johnson County, Ky. To where I had a brother and two sisters living. It was about 80 miles that I had to travel, so I started and got along very well until that night. When I commenced trying to get to stay all night, the first place they refused to let me stay; by the time I reached the next house it was almost dark and raining. I called to the man of the house and he came to the door and asked me what I wanted. I told him that I would like to stay with him till morning; he slammed the door together and made me no answer. By this time it was so dark that I could hardly see my way, so I went on the best I could. At last I came to a barn. I crawled up into the loft and lay there all night.

The next morning I stared, the rain still pouring and the creeks out of banks, so I had to wade until at last I came to a place where two poles were across the creek. I went to walk across and fell in. I caught hold on the pole but could not touch the bottom. About the time I got out it commenced snowing. I went on shivering with cold. I at last came by a house and a boy came to the door and told me to come in, so I went in and they were in the act of eating breakfast. The old man made a good fire and when I had warmed myself he asked me to sit up and eat some breakfast. I told him that I had no money; he said it made no difference so I ate my breakfast and stayed until I got dry, when the good man showed me how to go. That day I made the trip to my brothers.
 
I commenced working form that time for myself. My father bought a piece of land on the top of Cumberland Mountain. He built a house on it and moved there. I had some kin folks living on the south side of Pound River, so I concluded to pay them a visit. I went to cousin Martin Branham's. Tandy Branham's family lived nearby. Tandy had been killed in the war, and left a widow and seven children, there were three at home; they rest of them were married. There I fist saw my sweet Nannie. I thought she was the prettiest girl in the world. I was now 16 years old; she was the same age with the exception of one month. I made it up in my mind to have her or die. Her mother and her brother Wilburn objected to us talking together, but we nevertheless talked on the sly. I loved her as dearly as my own life; she said she loved me. I was a good worker and her mother wanted to hire someone for a month. They asked me if I wanted to hire and I told them I did, for it was into my head to be with the girl I loved.
 
I went to work; her mother was often absent. Nannie would call me to dinner about 11 o'clock and we would take a chat for two hours, then I would return to my work. She frequently came to where I was, so the month went by happily.
The reason they did not want her to court me, she had been talking to a man by the name of Mullins, who was the son of a well to do farmer in Dickenson County, but she had promised me that she would be mine and that it would be useless for them to try to persuade her to have anyone else.
 
So my time was up and I was going to leave, so I took the old lady to one side and asked her if she had any objections to me and Nancy marrying. She said she did so I asked her what it was and she said I was too young and that I was too ill and that I would whip her to death. I told her I would not strike her; she said I was a good boy to work, but I was too young and she would not give her up. She told me I had better not steal her, if I did I had better have a mill stone hanged about my neck and cast into the sea. Then I told her that I would take her or die.
 
The next day I was going to have her. The old lady had to go off that day. She had left Nanny and Floyd Branham's wife there, she was Nancy's sister-in-law, at the house. It was getting late in the day. Floyd's wife left. Nancy said to me: "Clifton this is as good a time for us leaving as we will get." I said, "all right." Just as we were in the act of leaving I saw my dad, John Branham, coming. I motioned with my hand for him to go down the road, and there he met Nancy's mother and stopped her. Nancy and I started out through the orchard and went in safety feeling as though I had captured the world. She was a pure and perfect girl. We went by Martin Branham's, crossing the river, there to James Peek's and stayed all night. Next morning we set out for the top of Cumberland Mountain, stopping at my sister's, who lived within one-half mile of my father. Thinking he would not be pleased with what I had done, we refused the invitation of my youngest sister to go home with her. But father came and informed us that all was well, so we went home with him where we remained sometime. John, Nancy's youngest brother came bringing the remainder of her clothing, saying that his mother would never give up for us to marry. I told him to tell her that was all right for I had Nannie and it was no use acting a fool.
 
We stayed at father's about two months, and the old lady sent for us. We went down to Mr. Austins's on the river, and had him go see the old lady. He had everything fixed up all right and returned. I then went to Wise and got my license, returned and was married. That was 23 years ago. We returned to my fathers, when my happy days on earth began. We toiled together, and when I would be absent and return, she would welcome me with a kiss. In about a year we were blessed with a sweet baby. Having moved twice by the time our baby was a year old, we concluded to go to Johnson County, Ky., to visit my sister, where we remained till spring, and took a boat to Pikeville, on the Big Sandy River. There I commenced working for a man by the name of Ford above Pikeville. Then we went to the Levisa Fork of the Sandy River, and worked for Jeff Rowe, and during the summer we were blessed with another baby. Then we came to Shelby Creek, thence to Cumberland Mountain.
 
We had lived together eight years during which four children were born to us, three girls and one boy. We lost one little girl about three years old. I had been a tough boy though the Lord had been knocking at my heart. My wife belonged to the church, and if I had been as good a boy as she was a woman, I would have been better off.
 
I then went to making moonshine whiskey together with two other parties, one of whom is dead, the other is living in the south side of the Cumberland Mountain. We did very well for a time, then we became afraid of the revenue officers and moved to the head of the Kentucky River, just above Mart Venters. We made a large quantity of it. We cut a large chestnut tree to make our tubs, and had a good place to put up our still. We often went to the house to play the violin, pick the banjo and dance, and really thought we were having a good old time.
 
So time came and went with its usual fullness of exciting circumstances, peculiar to those days. Clell Adams had married a stepdaughter of Mr. Venters. Rant Smallwood had killed Clell Adams. Rant being a freind and an old school mate of mine told me he got a hundred dollars and an improved .38 Smith and Wesson pistol to kill Clell Adams. Smallwood and I got along all right until he wanted to kill Franciscie, a friend of mine, then I began thinking. A freind of mine said to me one day, "It would be a good thing if someone would kill Rant Smallwood." I being young and easily led astray, concluded that I would try him a crack myself. So I went to Mark Vanover's house to get a gun, but being asked by a woman what I wanted with the gun, I told her that I wanted to kill Rant Smallwood. She said, "Clifton, don't do that." She took the gun away from me, saying "don't do that." So I took my Spencer rifle and .44 caliber cap and ball Remington, and I started for him. Leaving the still, I took the woods to Blaze Branch and stayed till night with Wes Sowards, next morning taking to the brush again to the mouth of Dorton, where I found Rant working on a church house. I slipped down close to where they were at work, and concealed myself for a while, but having no chance at him I left them, crossing Shelby Creek, and went up Dorton and on to the top of the opposite hill, from where I could see them at work. Whilst I was sitting there, a Fleming boy, who was dodging the sheriff, came to where I was. I told him to go to Rant an tell him to come to me. He did so, and Rand beckoned to me to come to him. I went to him , and went home with him and stayed all night. The next day we went squirrel hunting twice, during which I watched for the opportunity to kill him, but all failed.
 
The night before, we had slept together and he told me that he had "dreamed that a large snake got on him, and that he could not get it off." Of course, I knew that I was that snake. So in the afternoon we fixed to go to Wes Sowards' to see his girls. We oiled our guns before we started. He watched me all the way. I stepped back behind, and he said, "Clifton, walk up to my side, for I believe you want to shoot me."
 
I said you area fool for talking that way. Then he asked me if anyone as to shoot at him from the brush, what I would do. I said I would do my best to get some of them. So we arrived at Mr. Sowards' and along after supper, the old folks went to bed, leaving Smallwood, the girls and I in the kitchen talking. About eight for nine o'clock in the night I said that I had to go, so I got up and I started. When I went out I went around the house and found a small hole cut through and I put the muzzle of my gun through. Smallwood was sitting just opposite in a chair lent up against the wall. I fired the fatal shot, and poor Rant, my former friend, jumped to his feet, then fell on his face and said, "Clifton Branham has killed me."
 
I left the same night and went back to the head of the Kentucky River. The news came to the post office next day, that someone had shot Smallwood and he was just alive. I stayed there a while and started to Pound, in Virginia, crossing the Cumberland Mountain at the Horse Gap and came to Eff Sowards mill, just above Donkey, where I again met the news that Smallwood was shot, and that I was accused of it, which I denied and that his friends were looking after me. I went to the store and bought some powder, caps and lead and run my pockets full of bullets. I went to Granville Cox's, my brother-in-law, and stayed out a few days. Leaving there I went to a Mr. Looney's on Slate Creek, in Buchanan County, Virginia, spending a few days there, when the news came that I had shot a man in Kentucky, and was getting away. They appeared to want me to stay but the next morning I told them I had better be going. From here I went to Mr. Rife's in McDowell County, W.Va., where I remained until after Christmas with a Mr. Mullins, who was a very clever moonshiner. From here I went to Indian Creek in Tazewell Co., Va., and worked for a while for a Mr. Lambert, then I worked for a Mr. Moore. I assumed the name George Jones.
 
During my travels I fell in love with a great many girls, widows and married women, and they with me. One of them was so infatuated that she proposed having her husband put away and that she would make me a deed to all she had, and that she had money enough to keep us the balance of our lives without work. I passed myself off for a single man.
 
At this time Granville Cox came to Tazewell after me and we returned home. On my return home from Tazewell, Rant Smallwood having about recovered from his wounds, my wife and I went to my father's on top of Cumberland Mountain to live. I had been home about two months when the dark clouds of adversity began to obscure my brighter joys, and cruel fate frowned upon me. For at this time, on one Saturday afternoon, Henry Vanover was killed. I was at home with my wife and family, a fact was proven on my trial.
 
On the next morning a brother of Vanover's came along on his way to West Virginia, and asked me to go with him. I went as far as Clintwood, and from there I left him and went to Johnson County, Ky. While there at one of my uncles, on Tom's Creek, three men came and arrested me, bringing me back to Whitesburg jail. My brother Tandy was soon brought in on some charge. We had our examining trial, was bound over and sent to the Pikeville jail. After three months I had my final trial, and got a life sentence in the Kentucky State Prison at Frankfort.
 
After my incarceration I went to the library and got a Bible to read. I joined the Sunday School class, then I joined the "Royal Christian Brotherhood," and was happily converted, and began praying in public; then began preaching, and continued the same for 13 years, twice a day, and God blessed me in the work.
 
After having been there 14 years the parole law came in force, that all who had been in 10 years could be paroled out. The deputy warden, myself and my brother-in-law, Wm. J. Fleming, went to work and secured my release afer having been there for 14 years and seven months.
 
After farewell greetings, I boarded the train to Old Virginia. The nearer we got the higher and higher and bluer the mountains appeared to grow. On arriving at Norton, I was met by my nephew, David Boggs, who was awaiting my arrival. We went to his house where I stayed a week. While here surrounded with different environments and enchanting hills, I went up into the mountains to pour out my soul to God in prayer, and, Oh! I did feel that if I had wings, I would flit away through the ethereal blue, to brighter mansions beyond the skies.
 
I then received a phone message from Mr. Fleming, who had come to Coeburn for me. I took first train and went down to Coeburn, where I met my nephew, who was there with horses for us to ride. We soon mounted and pulled out for Dickenson County, arriving at Wm. J. Fleming's after nightfall. Here we spent the remainder of the night and next day very happily, talking and rejoicing together, over my release and return to my friends.
 
The next day being Saturday, Wm. J. Fleming and wife and myself started to the Pound, going by my father's and when we got in sight of his house, I saw a pool old gray headed woman standing in the yard. Bless God! It was my mother. We rode up, dismounted and I threw my arms around her neck and hugged and kissed her, and we all cried and wept for joy. We then went on to Wib Branham's and after a happy greeting, I played the organ and we sung and had a good time. I sent for my wife and children. Lizzie was the first to come, putting her arms around my neck, saying "Papa, is this you?" I said, "Yes, this is your papa." Presently I looked around and saw a woman standing by the door, and someone asked me if I knew her. I said, "Yes, it is Nan," and I shook hands with her, asking some of the children to set her a chair, and told her to be seated. We talked a while. Then Wib Branham's daughter, Lizzy, and I went out in the lane talking and my wife came out and joined in the conversation and inadvertently she said, "Let us go home." I said, "Home! I have no home." She said, "Yes you do." I aid to her, "Nancy, look there, what a pretty daughter we have, and she looks just like a lamb that has been slain. And now, I am just as close to your house as I ever expect to be, yet I am sorry such is the case, but you have drawn the line between us, that can never be erased. You have helped to slay this child, and now, I want you to let me take her and raise her feet out of the pit, into which you have gotten them. But if you should call on me for an accommodation, I should be glad to help you, and will never lay a straw in your way, if you will let me alone," She denied nothing, and we parted just that way.
 
About dark that night, Dave Fleming's wife came to me and whispered to me and said, "Pa Dave is out at the end of the garden, by the road, and wants you to come out, he wants to see you." My sister and Wm. J. Fleming came to me and told me not to go, and I refused. They then left immediately and I saw at once they were there for no good.
 
Next morning Lizzie and I went to Dickenson and from there we went to the top of the mountain to visit the grave of my dead child; while there in sad reflection and retrospecting the days of our early joy, I thought of forgiving Nancy of all and taking her back and living with her, but by and by I declined. We returned to Mr. Fleming's, and was invited to take Christmas with friends at Clintwood., but owing to the drunken conduct of some parties, I thought to avoid trouble with them we would go to the Pound. Dave Fleming overtook us, and as we had previously had some difficulty, I told him to go on, that I did not want to travel with him. He said, "No, I would not hurt you for a thousand dollars." He said, "You know it would do you no good, you son of a bitch! I then jobbed my gun in his face and he struck me and I shot at him. By this time my wife had come up, and said, "You have killed my child, you son of a bitch, and I will have your neck broke for it." She thought I had shot our daughter. She then threw up my daughter to me, then I fired the shot that left her lifeless on the ground.
 
Then I left crossing the mountain, going to my brother's Shelby Creek. On reflecting over the matter, I wondered how my wife and daughter could rise up against me, and have me so soon cut off, and me to kill my wife. I never dreamed of such ever happening.
 
After remaining here a short time, I went to Beaver in Floyd County, to cousin John McCarey's where I remained about three months. He had a daughter with whom I fell in love. Her father could not stay at home because of a feud between him and the Moore family living just below him. They had shot him, killed his property, burned his barns and fencing, and kicked up all kind of deviltry, and swearing that they would take his life before they let up. But it came to pass that Anderson Moore got killed and that broke up the next. His property was killed, his house and barn burned. Haley and I got married and started to Michigan, taking a boat at the mouth of Big Mud, a drummer on the boat knew me. He got off at Prestonsburg and told them that we had gone down the river. The others took a skiff and followed us to White House where they arrested me, and brought me back to Prestonsburg jail, then they took me to Lexington, where I remained two months, and the officers from Virginia came after me and brought me here to the Wise County jail, to be tried for the murder of my wife.
 
 
TRIAL:
The trial commenced and concluded at the July term, 1903, of the Wise County court. Judge W. S. Matthews presiding. Clifton was ably represented by Hon. R. P. Bruce, J. F. Alley and J. A. Hughes. The jury was composed of 12 good and competent men, who patiently heard the evidence, and after deliberation, returned with a verdict finding him guilty of murder in the first degree.
 
 
LAST CONFESSION:
At the age of 14, I took deliberate aim and shot at a Mrs. Fleming, and at another time shot at John Fleming, intending to kill them for abusing my sister, but missed them.
I beat another woman and threw her over a cliff, leaving her for dead, but she recovered.
I premeditatedly shot to kill Rant Smallwood, but failed.
I received part of the money that killed Henry Vanover.
I killed my wife for accusing me of my daughter.
I killed Anderson Moore and destroyed his property on Beaver.
 
 
LAST REQUEST:
That my friends take me to Dickenson County for interment. Good by!
 
 
HANGING:
On September 25, 1903 Clifton was led from the jail, to the scaffold nearby, and hanged, becoming the last man hanged in Wise County, Virginia.
 
 
WAKE:
Clifton's body was hauled back to Dickenson County by family members in a horse-drawn wagon. People came out of the hills all along the road to try to catch a glimpse of the body going by. Clifton had allegedly requested to have a wake and said on the third day he would arise from the dead. When the third day came, naturally everyone anxiously waited near his homemade coffin, but the third day passed without incident.
 
(This is a picture of the cabin where the body was brought and the wake was held.)
 
 
BURIAL:
Clifton Branham was laid to rest in an unmarked grave high on a knoll in the family cemetery at the head of Pine Creek, ending another story of violence and blood-shed in the Cumberlands.
 
 

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This page updated September 18, 2004