To understand just who was Shocco Jones and his relationship to Mississippi, you must first have some understanding of the political and financial history of the 1830’s. Bear with me because some of this is tedious and I lay no claim to clear understanding of the vagaries of the banking industry of the 1830’s.

Banking and financial regulations in the early days of the United States were chaotic and sometimes nonexistent. For periods of time, there was no central or national bank. The charter for the First Bank of the United States expired in 1811 and it was 1817 before a new charter was issued. Even then the bank had little power over fiscal policy. It served as the depository for federal funds and would attempt to maintain a measure of regulation by occasionally redeeming notes from state and private banks just to verify that they did at least have some assets. Without any real oversight, the more unscrupulous private and state banks would issue notes and loans that would far exceed their ability to cover, causing financial instability in a particular state or area from time to time.

There were those who didn’t believe that a national bank that had control over fiscal policy was necessary. And then there were those who didn’t like banks at all. One of the latter became president in 1829.

Andrew Jackson, because of his own financial issues, had personal reasons for his dislike of banks. The thought of a national bank did not sit well with him. He took no real action against the bank in his first term but his opponents in the 1832 election pushed the issue on the belief that his position was a loser and would cost him the reelection. He pushed back and won easily. Part of his platform – not renewing the charter of the 2nd Bank of the United States. Eventually that is exactly what he did by veto.

To speed up the bank’s demise, he ordered that all federal funds be removed and deposited in state and private banks around the country – banks of his choosing.  Many of these banks were in the west. Most were not the bigger east coast banks. The banks receiving the deposits became known as “pet banks.” Two of these banks were located in Mississippi.

By 1837, the country was in recession and times were hard. The banking situation wasn’t the only reason for the economic downturn. There was a wheat crop failure, the demand for cotton decreased along with the price and there were economic hard times in Europe. The two major banks in Mississippi, Planters and Union were virtually insolvent as was the state of Mississippi. 

Everyone owed everyone money and there was no money to be had. Debtors had one solution – migration to Texas. Even major plantation owners packed up their belongings and their slaves under the cover of darkness and slipped away to the Republic. It became so common that when local sheriffs went out to serve warrants for indebtedness, they would return with the writ marked G.T.T. (Gone to Texas)

Then along came Jones, Shocco Jones.

 Joseph Seawell Jones was to say the least – a character. Coming from a family of some wealth and political clout, he grew up in North Carolina, his father owning a plantation near Shocco Springs. He attended the University of North Carolina but was soon dismissed because he only studied and attended classes that he liked. Somehow, he finagled entry into Harvard Law School. It is likely here that he began using the name Shocco to distinguish himself from all the other Jones’ in attendance.

While he managed to get his law degree, he never practiced law. He returned to North Carolina and began writing a book. “A Defence of the Revolutionary History of the State of North Carolina from the Aspersions of Mr. Jefferson  was well received although it apparently was not favorable to some in political power and displayed his propensity to shade the truth.

To generate publicity for himself and his book, he staged a fake duel with a fictitious character named Mr. Hooper over the reputation of an unnamed lady. This gained him considerable fame even after the hoax was exposed.
Probably as a result of the hoax, the governor of Rhode Island issued a proclamation for the arrest of Jones. Not to be outdone, Shocco responded with his own proclamation affixed with his own “Great Seal of Shocco” attached – offering a reward of “tar and feathers” for the governor’s apprehension.

Jones continued to write articles for newspapers and journals as he planned his next escapade- another fake duel in 1839 with a fictitious character named “Mr. H. Wright Wilson of New York.” He claimed to kill the man at the Dismal Swamp Canal on the border of Virginia and North Carolina. The public was more dubious this time but it still added to his fame.

Jones then disappeared – on the road to his next great hoax. Shocco Jones reappeared in the great state of Mississippi later in the year. In his possession were a large parcel and a trunk. In bold letters, the parcel wrapped in red ribbon read “Public Documents”, the trunk was captioned “Cape Fear Money.”

He represented himself as an agent of the U. S. Treasury and as an agent of the Cape Fear Bank in North Carolina. He arranged meetings with banks in Vicksburg, Natchez and Columbus certainly and possibly more. The financially and politically powerful did not know what to make of him but felt certain that the best approach was to befriend him.

He intimated that he was in Mississippi at the government’s request to convince the “pet banks” to return the federal funds that they had previously received but that he had a solution to their liquidity problems with bonds from the Cape Fear Bank.

He was wined and dined across the state by some of its most powerful people, maintaining close relationships with the powerful Seargent S. Prentiss, a candidate for U.S. Senate and former governor, Hiram Runnels, who hoped to profit from the relationship.  He even attended a barbeque hosted by the current governor where he had an altercation with a political figure from the Republic of Texas.

Jones eventually traveled to Columbus where he convinced a bank to appoint his stepfather as the new president of the bank.

Suspicious about Jones began to build by the fall of 1839. He was eloquent, flattering and great company but his promises never seemed to come to fruition. There was talk that maybe he was not exactly who or what he represented himself to be. In October, he quietly disappeared, leaving behind his parcel of documents and trunk. The documents were found to be old newspapers and the trunk was full of scrap iron.

Jones probably never intended to profit from his hoax. He sought to generate publicity and possibly to make a social/political statement about the state of affairs in Mississippi and the banking industry. There is some evidence that he executed a similar ruse in the state of Virginia. He was never prosecuted, possibly because he never actually stole anything and the fact that those he duped were too embarrassed to suffer the publicity of a trial.
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Jones’ life after this affair was not what one would expect. The man who had gone to great lengths to gain publicity and recognition all but disappeared. He actually returned to Mississippi to live near his mother and stepfather in Columbus. He spent his final years in a rural cabin near the town and passed away in 1855 at the age of forty-nine.

MARCH 10, 1883
Henry Vanlandingham, an octogenarian of Winston County, has been in the habit of standing on his head on his birthdays. He said whenever he failed to stand on his head that he expected Gabriel would soon blow his horn. He reached his 82nd birthday last year and made an effort to stand on his head but failed. Gabriel has not blown his horn yet.

MAY 19, 1883
A depot of the C&A and N. Railroad has been located on the Louisville and West Station Road near Winter's bridge and named McCool in honor of J. F. McCool, Esq. of Kosciusko. It will be the shipping point for southwest Winston and we learn will be an important town on the road.

When most people think of riverboats, they think of a paddle wheeler steaming down the Mighty Mississippi with Mark Twain at the helm and Huck Finn and Tom Sawyer waving to the passengers from a homemade raft. They generally don’t think of Alabama, Columbus, Mississippi or the Tombigbee River.

It might surprise many that the Tombigbee River was an active and prosperous waterway during much of the 1800’s. Paddle wheelers carrying cargo and passengers were a common site on the lower sections of the river. In fact, the first steamboat was used on the Alabama River in 1818.

By the 1850’s, steamboats were traveling as far north as Aberdeen and for good reason. The Black Prairie Belt that spread across parts of Mississippi and Alabama (Noxubee and Lowndes Counties are the areas we are most familiar with) was some of the most productive cotton land in the world. The Tombigbee provided the best means to get this cotton to market. Huge loads of cotton and passengers would make their way down to the port city of Mobile on steamboats and that would then return with passengers and goods.

The development of the Tennessee- Tombigbee Waterway has altered the natural river system since the later 1900’s but in the day of the steamboat, much of the river was unnavigable. With its headwaters in north Mississippi, the Tombigbee flowed near the eastern border of the state until it entered Alabama, a few miles south of the city of Columbus. Further south, it converged with the Black Warrior River and later joining the Alabama River and forming the Mobile River that flows in to the Gulf of Mexico.

Steamboat travel from Demopolis and south was a year-round enterprise but navigation further north on the Tombigbee proved to be something altogether different. Because of low water levels and the narrowness of the channel at points, steamboats could only access the river above Demopolis in the winter and spring – usually only 4-7 months of the year. For many years, traffic was heavy during those few months.

Columbus was almost always the last northern stop of a steamboat but when river conditions allowed, Aberdeen could be reached. The first riverboat reached Columbus in 1822 or 1823 and created quite a stir among the population.  Columbus was settled only a few years before in 1817 as a crossing point of the river for the military road that was under construction from Nashville to New Orleans.

As cotton production increased in the area so did the wealth it brought. Now there was not only a need to transport cotton to market but also a need and desire to bring goods from other parts of the country and the world. In addition, folks, especially those with money, wanted a better mode of transportation to the rest of civilization that didn’t involve a bumpy and muddy wagon ride through Indian and outlaw country.

For at least part of the year, steamboats met those needs. Making their way up river, they would deliver goods, from basic staples to luxury items, all the way to Columbus and points in between and then return to Mobile laden with bales of cotton and passengers.

In addition to the basics and typical luxury items, there were two very popular items that found their way up the river: oysters and ice. Oysters from the Gulf were so popular that is was said that the town used crushed oyster shells to fill mudholes in the streets.

Ice was a different matter. Ships that arrived in Mobile from northern climates, often used ice as a ballast. The steamboats would bring the ice upriver for those who could afford it. At least one icehouse was built in Columbus as a result.

When compared to those on the Mississippi, the steamboats used on the Tombigbee were small but were still mighty beasts. The earliest boats could carry only a few hundred bales of cotton but by the 1850’s, steamboats of 200 feet in length or more could carry up to 2000 bales and 100 passengers and all usually drawing less than 6 feet of water – fully loaded.

Packet steamboats (carries freight and passengers) of the day shared common features:

The main deck was designed for cargo. The boilers and equipment were generally located here as well. Passengers of limited means were also restricted to this deck. For a small fare, they had the privilege of sleeping between or on the cargo and were required to provide food for themselves.
The boiler deck included accommodations for full fare passengers. The deck included cabins with sleeping quarters that opened to an outside covered walkway and an inside central hall for dining and entertainment. Fine dining was usually the standard and the hall often included a piano.
The hurricane deck was predominantly open to provide skylights for the deck below and atop it was the Texas deck which was the sleeping quarters for the ship’s officers. The top deck was the pilot house.

By the 1850’s, steamboat travel from Mobile to Columbus could be accomplished in under thirty hours depending on the number of stops and river conditions. For those with sufficient funds, these trips could be an adventure and a social event. That is – unless there were problems. And there were often problems and dangers. In fact, most steamboats had short lives, averaging only five years or so.

A river snag or a “dead head” (partially submerged log) could and did often sink riverboats. Sandbars and low water were always of concern not to mention the more deadly risks of boiler explosions and fire.

In 1858, the celebrated and popular steamboat “Eliza Battle” was to meet her fate and her story was to become one of the most tragic and exaggerated tales of the day.
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The steamboat Eliza Battle was considered one of the top boats on the river. A side-wheeler, at 315 tons, she could carry as many as 2000 bales of cotton and as many as 100 passengers.  Her captain, S. G. Stone and pilot, Daniel Eppes had excellent reputations and she ran a regular route from Mobile to Columbus during the season with minimal issues over the last five years. While there had been at least one grounding and a small fire that had been contained, these events were typical and to be expected in such a hazardous business.

In late February,1858, the Eliza Battle left Mobile loaded with passengers and goods intended for Columbus and points in between – Demopolis, Gainesville, Pickensville, etc. It looked to be a good trip. The water was high; in many places the river was out of its banks and the weather was unusually warm. She arrived in Columbus with no difficulties and unloaded the last of her upstream cargo.

On Sunday, February 28 and loaded with a quantity of cotton and a number of passengers, the Eliza Battle headed south toward Mobile. There were a number of stops along the way as she picked up more cargo and additional passengers. By the time she left Gainesville, she bore 1300-1400 bales of cotton and more than fifty passengers.

But the afternoon brought a weather change. A strong north wind brought a dramatic drop in temperature, rain and even hail. By late evening, the temperature had dropped more than 40 degrees and the rain had turned to sleet.  The main deck passengers and deck hands struggled to keep warm without any enclosure as ice formed across the deck.
Up on the boiler deck, the cabin passengers were quite comfortable as they sat and dined by the wood stoves in their cabins and the central hall. Although many expressed sympathies for the men down below, most were able to enjoy good food and company and the music played by the band on board.

There were still those enjoying the activities at 1:00 am when they heard the sharp whistle of another steamship.  The “Warrior” was approaching – headed north. Even though the river was high, covering the banks and flowing into the surrounding woodlands, the channel was narrow and the two steamers passed very close to each other. As she passed, the crew and passengers of Eliza Battle noticed that sparks were flying freely from the “Warrior’s” smokestacks.

At 2:00 am, in a bitter cold and a blustery wind from the north, a shout of “Fire!” jolted the cabin passengers. Those in bed were rousted and told that there was no time to dress – the fire was spreading rapidly!

The fire had started in the rear of the boat and even though the boat was headed south, the strong north wind was fanning the flames and pushing them forward. It was spreading quickly. The first thoughts were of the lifeboat stored on the hurricane deck above but the flames had already reached it. Attempts to wrestle it from the deck were futile and it was soon consumed by fire.

The passengers were being pushed forward by the flames. Men were heaving cotton bales, planks and barrels overboard and climbing on top or assisting women and children onto the floating bales. One man placed his wife and child upon a bale and then fearing that he might overturn it, jumped into the water beside it with the intent of guiding it to land. He did not survive the freezing water. One survivor relayed that a slave, a deck hand, gave his wooden plank to her so that she could survive.

The pilot, Eppes, attempted to steer the boat toward the bank of the river but there was no bank. The water was so high that no land was visible, only the trunks of trees now partially submerged in the flooded river. Eppes initially steered into the trees hoping to give passengers and crew the opportunity to escape on to limbs and branches which many were able to do. Once the steamboat lost power however, it was at the mercy of the current and the north wind. It swung away from the trees and across the channel.

The crew performed admirably. A few were able to swim to shore carrying women and children. Others aided passengers onto cotton bales. Captain Stone was the last to leave the Eliza Battle. At one point, he found a mother with a young baby dressed only in thin nightclothes. Thinking that the baby could not survive the cold, he took a thick blanket or coat, soaked it in water and placed it on a burning bale until it began steaming. He then wrapped the baby in the garment in hopes that it would provide some warmth before placing the infant and mother onto another floating cotton bale. He escaped the ship on a wooden plank and survived.

For those that had not reached land, the horror of the next few hours was almost unbearable. A few drowned quickly. Others who had been soaked before climbing onto bales or planks faced a slower death as they slowly froze in the bitter cold and wind.

A number of passengers made it into the tree limbs above the flooded river. Most were not dressed for the cold. Many of the men stripped themselves of their clothing and provided them to women and children hanging from the tree limbs. Others made an effort to tie themselves to branches and tree trunks knowing that the cold would likely cause them to lose their grip. One man attributed his survival to a flask of brandy and two plugs of tobacco that kept his body stimulated. Some survivors related the horror of the sound of bodies crashing into the water as victims froze to death.

It would be four hours before help would begin to arrive. Men in skiffs, including a number of slaves, began pulling victims from floating bales and tree limbs. Some were frozen to death. Others were near death.

 A bonfire was built on the nearest bank to warm the survivors. There were a few homes in the vicinity and the residents opened their doors and provided comfort and what medical care they could muster.

Bodies were recovered and taken to a nearby home for identification. It would be thirty-six hours before another steamboat, the “Magnolia” would arrive to carry the survivors to Mobile.

The remains of the “Eliza Battle” sank in the river and is now buried in silt. By the most accurate records, twenty-nine people lost their lives – fifteen passengers and fourteen crew members. Most did not drown but froze to death. Several bodies were never found. The crew and captain were not faulted for the disaster and were commended for their actions.

As the news spread, the true story became convoluted. The cargo and number of passengers were exaggerated. Some reported deaths in the fifties or sixties while others exceeded one hundred. There had been other tragedies on the river and there would be more but the horrendous circumstances of the Eliza Battle captured the public’s imagination and bred a bevy of stories without foundation.

Many questioned the source of the fire. Some claimed a disgruntled crew member set the fire. Others blamed a pair of Irishmen who attempted to rob a safe on board and started the fire to cover their escape. This story was compounded years later when a story surfaced that a man on his deathbed in New York City confessed to the crime. There was never any evidence to support either of these stories.

Over the years like many tragic stories, tales of ghost and hauntings became folklore. Some said that during spring floods, a steamboat could be seen rising out of the waters, a steamboat with fires blazing and music playing. Others claimed to hear voices and cries for help in the treetops on quiet dark nights. The ghost story has been perpetuated by a book entitled “13 Alabama Ghosts and Jeffery" by Kathryn Tucker Windham.
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If you want a more detailed account of the tragedy of the ‘Eliza Battle” or want to find out more about early travel on the Tombigbee, I highly recommend the book “The Tombigbee River Steamboats: Rollodores, Dead Heads and Side-Wheelers” by Rufus Ward.

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​According to Uncle Tom KELLY, a former slave, the first store in Plattsburgh was built around 1840 or 1842 by a man from Plattsburgh, New York who named the community for his old home. The name of this man has not been obtained, but he is said to have worn his hair long and to have been a great fighter. This village grew to considerable importance in the county drawing trade from an area of about 20 miles. Two roads crossed there at one time eight stores, a newspaper, blacksmith shop, tin- type artist and barber shop flourished. There were also three churches, a Masonic Lodge, and an outstanding school, which could boast of having "Corn Club" SMITH and G.F BOYD as instructors. Whiskey was sold in practically all stores until 1885 and the quarrelsomeness produced in the customers by this stimulant lead to the town receiving the nickname of “Fort Growl.” Many bloody fights occurred on its streets.  Sebron MILLER erected the first dwelling in the place (See Chapter VI Antebellum Days.) Prominent early citizens were the QUARLES’, LEEs, CATERs, MILLERs, HAWTHORNs, COOPERs, GENTRYs, KELLYs and other families. 
 
After the railroad passed through the county, business at Plattsburgh began to decline and at the December term, 1914, of the board of Supervisors all qualified voters of Plattsburgh precinct were transferred to Noxapater, a town which received its Indian name meaning ‘Little Bullet,” from a creek. It once boasted of only one store established before 1860 by Seaton KING and sold to Dr. GUNN from who received the nickname “Trigger” still heard at times. - A History of Winston County

​Coahoma County, Mississippi is known today for some of this country’s more prominent musicians such as John Lee Hooker, Son House, Ike Turner and Conway Twitty.  It’s also known as the home of the Delta Blues Museum and the Ground Zero Blues Club. Clarksdale lays claim to the infamous Crossroads where bluesman Robert Johnson purportedly sold his soul to the devil.

Situated along the Mississippi River in the northern Delta, Coahoma has a long and colorful history influenced by its early frontier lawlessness, its plantation culture and the ebb and flow of the river that snakes its western border. The county was formed from Choctaw lands that were ceded in 1830 although the county didn’t become official until 1836. It takes its name from the Choctaw word for “red panther.” With some of the most fertile soil in the world,  it was home to numerous large plantations including Greengrove belonging to Nathan Bedford Forrest.

The first settlements were established along the river for transportational purposes. The villages of Delta, Port Royal and Friar’s Point were all in competition as the county seat in the 1830’s through the early 1850’s. As with many river towns, the very thing that gave them life could also destroy them. The channel of the mighty river shifted often and in a matter of a few short years, Delta and Port Royal disappeared, giving way to farmland, wetlands and levees. Only Friar’s Point remains and only as a shell of a once thriving river port.

Some claim that Hernando DeSoto crossed the Mississippi River near Friar’s Point. It is known that Jesse James once visited the community in the company of a Methodist preacher, Aviator Charles Lindbergh ran out of gas on a flight and safely landed near Friar’s Point and the town was a converging point for Union transport ships prior to the attack on Vicksburg in 1863.

In 1841, Coahoma County was still the wild frontier. Cotton plantations were developing and producing fortunes but there was still land to clear and frequent flooding along the river left vast areas wild and untamable.

The money that cotton brought to the region also brought the outlaw.  Criminals of every disposition found the ease of travel along the river made for quick escapes if necessary and presented the opportunity for new victims along the way.  The islands that peppered the river provided safe havens for those outside of the law.

 These islands formed and disappeared with every shift in the river channel. Most had no names but were identified by number. The islands bordering Coahoma County were generally numbered islands 62- 71. Some were little more than a stone’s throw across a channel from the mainland while others were situated near the Arkansas side of the river.

The river outlaws took many forms – common robbers, horse thieves, kidnappers of slaves and counterfeiters. While none of the outlaws that populated the area around Coahoma County ever reached the notoriety  of John Murrell the land pirate, who had been captured a few years earlier or the Harpe brothers who terrorized the Mississippi and Ohio Valleys at the turn of the century, they were a source of irritation and fear for the more settled planters, farmers and merchants of the area.

Of particular concern, were the counterfeiters. While federal currency had been in circulation since the Revolutionary War, first issued by the Continental Congress, many had little faith in the government’s paper money, thus the phrase “worthless as a continental.”

While states were forbidden to produce their own currency, many private banks and state supported banks, even railroads, issued their own currency in different denominations. These notes might be of face value or less depending upon the perceived strength of the issuing institution. Questionable notes became known as “broken bank notes.”
Because these notes came from so many sources, it was a relatively simple task to produce counterfeit documents. It was almost impossible for a bank in New Orleans to verify the veracity of a note from a bank in Memphis and vice versa.

Travel on the Mississippi presented a unique opportunity for counterfeiters. By moving up and down the river, they could purchase goods and horses from one location and then resell for legitimate funds as they moved from place to place. Residents of Coahoma County were popular victims of such crime. Merchants and planters in and around Delta, Port Royal and Friar’s Point were favorite targets of counterfeiters who used the nearby river islands as bases and hideouts. Local citizens had begun to organize and make plans to rid themselves of these outlaws. As often happens, well laid plans of justice gave way to a vigilantism that produced horrific results.  (Part 2 - tomorrow)


Part 2
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Details of the events of August 1841 are sketchy. There are few documents that exist today that relate the tale and these have conflicting narratives. I will do my best to relate them as accurately and summarily as possible. Other than a few newspaper reports from long ago, the only document of the event was published as a pamphlet by C.F.H. Meason – “A narrative of the horrible massacre of the counterfeiters, gamblers, and robbers, in Coahoma County, Mississippi, which occurred in August, 1841.” The pamphlet is out of print and the only known copy is located in a Wisconsin Historical Society Library.

There is no definitive information as to how the whole affair started but a Pontotoc newspaper “The Sprit of the Times” published some details that may have originated from a Vicksburg paper. This account begins as citizens of Coahoma County pursued a gang of horse thieves to the river. The gang was able to cross the river into Arkansas, possibly onto island 64. The pursuers were able to see the pilfered horses across the river but realized that they were too few in number to confront the encampment of thieves.  It was said that the thieves taunted their pursuers, daring them to come across and take their steeds.

The citizens returned to their homes and discussed their options with others in the communities. A boatman on the river may have become an ally. The boatman had been swindled by the gang when he sold his goods for counterfeit money. When he returned to try to regain his goods, he was threatened with lynching.

A plan was developed, likely with the participation of the county sheriff, a man named Poindexter, whose intent was to arrest any and all involved. A large posse was gathered, some of which were of questionable character in their own right.  A flat boat was offered by a man named Burgess. A few goods were loaded on board and the men of the posse hid themselves in the rear of the boat as they floated down the river to island 64.

On the pretense of selling goods, the boatman was able to entice several members of the gang on board where they were promptly captured and bound. More thieves were captured at island 66 and possibly island 68.  Reports were that nineteen criminals were in custody. Other reports indicated as many as thirty.

The flat boat continued downriver to island 69 where things turned ugly.  A dispute broke out between the more law-abiding members of the posse and those who had a darker intent. Under threat, Sheriff Poindexter and some members of the posse were forced to exit the scene, leaving the prisoners in the hands of what could now only be described as a mob.

After some debate, most of the prisoners were taken to the shore on the Mississippi side of the river, carried to a bridge and horsewhipped before turning them loose. At least eight prisoners remained on the flat boat including a man, John Tully, that most considered to be the leader of the gang.

While the story varied a bit here, the result was the same. Most indicate that the men were bound hand and foot and tossed into the river. Other stories indicate that they were actually enclosed in an iron cage and that the cage was tossed overboard. Some reports support the story that eight men were killed, with names provided, while other reports indicated that eleven bodies were recovered.

There were some, particularly those on the Arkansas side of the river who may have had sympathy with the thieves or believed that some innocent men were victims of the vigilantes. As such, the accuracy of the following may be in question.

It was reported that the mob was soon joined by a band of men who could only be described as outlaws in their own right. Many believed that they were known former associates and accomplices of John Tully. Fueled by bloodlust and liquor, these men began a reign of terror across the countryside. It is unclear if these actions took place on the Arkansas side of the river, in Mississippi or both.

They took revenge upon those that had opposed their actions, driving them from their homes and plundering their property, dividing the spoils among the party. One report indicated that they burned the home of a lone woman and child.

These actions apparently continued for a period of time until the citizens were able to band together for their defense. Upon learning that there were those who sought justice against their actions, the mob leaders wrote letters to prominent citizens and at least one judge in Arkansas threatening to kill them if they pursued any action against them.

Eventually the situation calmed and there is no evidence that those involved were ever prosecuted or brought to justice. The event brought a great deal of negative press to Coahoma County and soured relations between the state of Mississippi and its neighbor, Arkansas.

This is a little-known tale not found in history books and with limited references online. This is likely due to its negative impact on the community and the fact that it occurred in an isolated area of the frontier. No reference to these events can be found in official Coahoma County history.
 
In 1841 at the time of the massacre, Port Royal was the county seat but flooding that year all but destroyed the town and the county seat was moved to Delta in 1842.  In 1848, the river shifted course and left Port Royal high and dry. The old river bed eventually became an oxbow now known as Horseshoe Lake. Without access to the river, Port Royal, once the busiest and largest community in the county, soon ceased to exist.

Delta suffered a similar fate. In 1848, a flood forced many residents to flee to Friars Point. The county seat soon followed in 1850. Before the turn of the century, all traces of the town of Delta were gone.
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Friars Point thrived for a period of time, serving as a major river port and playing an integral role in the Civil War. Over the years, the city of Clarksdale grew significantly and Friars Point declined. By 1930, the county seat was moved to its present-day home in Clarksdale.