Civil War: Shortages of Weapons Made Up With Bowie Knives

The following short article appeared in The Standard (Clarksville, Texas) on December 21, 1861:

Weapons Shortages
At Honey Grove in Fannin County [Texas], we were shown, last week, Swords, and Bowie knives the manufacture of Mr. W. P. Woodson of that place, which are conclusive evidence, that the necessities of the present crisis will be met in a great degree by home production. These weapons were of very serviceable shape; well tempered, neatly finished, with good handles--the sword with a double guard to the hilt--the knife with single guard--both with leather scabbards. The swords are sold at $20--the knives at $10.00. Mr. Woodson had carried on a Blacksmith shop heretofore, and had made plain sheath knives, but never anything like these weapons, until necessity stimulated the effort. Most of the officers in Maxey's regiment have swords made by Mr. Woodson.

Benchmade Griptilian

I wanted to share this video made by Peter Burlingame, president of Self Defense Initiative, Inc., in the Virgin Islands. Like me, his favorite pocket folder is the Benchmade Griptilian, though he likes the 550 while I prefer the 551. I think it hits the sweet spot in terms of cost, quality, practicality, and sound design. Peter demonstrates how easy it is to open and close and shows a modification he makes to the 550's blade that enables it to open like a Spyderco or Emerson knife with the "Wave" feature.

St. Louis, 1836: Two Constables Killed by Bowie Knife

The first two police officers killed in St. Louis were stabbed with a bowie knife in the hands of Francis L. McIntosh, a mulatto freeman.
   
On April 28, 1836, the steamboat Flora was docked in St. Louis when two black deckhands were arrested for fighting. McIntosh, the second steward on the Flora, described as a large, powerfully built man, forcibly freed them from the arresting officer, Constable William Mull. George Hammond, the deputy sheriff of St. Louis County, who happened to be passing by, came to Mull's assistance and the two men arrested McIntosh. McIntosh seemed to be cooperative, walking with the constables toward the jail, while eating handfuls of peanuts out of the pocket of the large, loose coat he wore. McIntosh asked the officers what sort of punishment they thought he faced. When he was told he would get at least five years in the penitentiary, he pulled a large bowie knife from his pocket and stabbed Mull in the body, twice, mortally wounding him. As Hammond tried to pull him off the constable, McIntosh turned and stabbed him in the neck, severing the right carotid artery. Hammond fell dead on the spot and McIntosh took off running. Mull called for help and tried to give chase until he collapsed from his wounds.
   
A crowd of about fifty men chased McIntosh. He leaped over a garden fence and took refuge in an outhouse. There, knife in hand, he threatened to kill anyone who tried to take him. An Irishman picked up a large piece of timber, smashed open the door, knocked down McIntosh, and took his knife. The killer was taken to jail. As word of Hammond's murder spread, an angry mob converged on the two-story brick building, chanting for the sheriff to give up his prisoner. As the mob grew, the sheriff fled. A group of men broke through the door, dragged McIntosh out of his cell, and took him to the edge of town where they chained him to a tree, piled wood around him, and set it on fire while hundreds, some say thousands, looked on. Some in the crowd protested the lynching, while others said that he should at least be shot rather than burned. According to accounts, as the flames rose around him he began singing a hymn in a loud voice. It reportedly took some 20 minutes for him to die.
   
The St. Louis Republican published a report that McIntosh had once killed a man in New Orleans and had stabbed the mate of the steamboat Pawnee, for which he had been severely whipped.
   
While no one denied the seriousness of McIntosh's crime, the barbarity of his punishment shocked most Americans, who felt that no white man would have been treated in such a fashion. Charles Dickens and the travel-writer Harriet Martineau wrote about McIntosh's horrific lynching, which  was one of the galvanizing events of the abolition movement.

Express Riders and Their Bowies

From Nathaniel Pitt Langford's Vigilante Days and Ways: the Pioneers of the Rockies comes this description of express riders and their armament:

No occupation in the northern mines tested the courage and honesty of men more severely than that of the Express riders. Their duties, in riding from camp to camp, frequently for hundreds of miles, where there was not a dwelling, carrying large amounts of treasure, made them objects of frequent attack. Tried men were selected for this business — men as well known for personal bravery as for their adroitness in the use of weapons in personal encounter.

The notoriety of this class was sufficient as a general thing to protect them from attack, unless it could be made under every possible advantage. It is a remarkable fact, and speaks as little in favor of the courage of the desperadoes as in praise of the daring nobility of these early Express riders, that few of the latter were interrupted in the discharge of their dangerous duties. They were ever upon the alert. It was the work of an instant only, when attacked, for them to draw and discharge their revolvers, with deadly effect, and follow up the smallest advantage with the no less fatal bowie-knife. One man has been known in an encounter of this kind to kill four assailants and escape unharmed.

A Bowie-Knife Murder in Platte City, Missouri

The following bowie-knife murder was reported in the Liberty Tribune, February 9, 1872:

Tragedy at Platte City
A terrible tragedy occurred in Platte City on Friday last, whereby Hon. Addison Burge was killed by Dr. F. M. Johnson. Dr. Johnson is out on bail. The paragraph below is said to embrace substantially the cause of the tragedy. The St. Jos. Gazette says: “A gentleman from Platte county gives us the following particulars in reference to the recent stabbing affair in Platte county. Our informant states that on Thursday evening Mrs. Johnson went to a spring on the premises of Mrs. Jack, the mother-in-law of Mr. Burge, and with whom he lived, to water her pony. Mr. Burge came to the spring in the meantime, and, it is alleged, greatly abused Mrs. Johnson. The next morning Dr. Johnson, a prominent surgeon of Platte, met Mr. Burge on the street and said, “Mr. Burge, I desire to see you a moment.”

Mr. Burge replied, “Yes, G-d d--n you, I know you do,” and at the same time grabbed at Dr. Johnson’s throat.

The doctor caught his arm with his hand, and, drawing a bowie-knife, stabbed Burge to the heart. He immediately gave himself up. Burge was formerly a member of the Legislature from Platte. His body was buried Saturday.

Pistol vs Bowie Knife in Dobie Town

A pistol vs. bowie knife incident from the Old West, as told in John Young Nelson's Fifty Years on the Trail: a True Story of Western Life:

Returning to Camp Floyd I resumed my duties as a teamster, until one day a paymaster came out with a lot of specie and gave us all eighteen months' arrears of pay. The sensation of having so much money all at once was too much for me, and I suddenly developed a great distaste for my occupation.

Just outside the camp there had sprung up a small town called Dobie Town, from the dobies or sun-dried bricks of which the houses were built.

A young teamster named Louis and myself decided to try our luck there. We sent in our resignations, and started, bought a shanty, and opened it as a whiskey saloon. I was always very partial to making as much money as I could with a minimum of labour, and with the experience of the Robbers' Roost fresh in my mind, I knew this was an easy way to set about it.

There were plenty of cut-throats, gamblers, and thieves there who supported us, and as the troops also favoured us with their patronage, we saw before long that we were in for a very good thing. I believe we should have made a fortune if we had only stayed, but my unlucky star was always in the ascendant, and something invariably happened which snatched the prize from me just as it was within my grasp. This time it occurred very unexpectedly. One night, as I was taking a stroll down the street for a little fresh air, I passed an opposition gambling hell of very bad reputation.

I just peeped in through the window to see how they were getting on. There I saw two men with their bowie knives drawn, standing over a man who was stretched on the floor. I thought to myself, " Hallo, here's a murder. I am better out of this," and I walked away quickly. I was only a few yards past the door when one of the men came running after me, and inquired what business I had to look in at his window. I apologised, and said I was only looking for a friend.

He then called me all the names he could think of, and said he would teach me better manners, winding up by making straight at me with his knife, and expressing a determination to have my heart's blood.

I didn't want any row with him, and started off running as fast as I could. He, however, was the quicker of the two, and finding him gaining on me rapidly, I drew my six-shooter, and called back to him to stop, or I would shoot him. At the same time I stopped and tried to dodge him.

He would not listen, and made a dart forward, but I slipped out of his way, and fired a shot in the air to let him know that I was capable of defending myself.

This seemed to enrage him the more, for he now came at me with his knife like a bull at a gate.

I thought, " Well, you'll soon make mincemeat of me if I don't stop you." So taking aim I planted him one in the "bread basket," which caused him to pull up very quickly.

He threw up his hands and fell backwards with a groan,

I told him I was not to blame; that he would have killed me if I had not protected myself; and as I saw some people coming who had heard the shots, I bolted off to my place as quickly as I could.

There I told my partner in a few words what had occurred, and cleared out without a moment's delay.

In those days the settlement of these matters was usually decided by the majority. I did not know what friends he had, but a glance told me that the one or two in my place at the time would be no assistance to me. I therefore thought discretion the better part of valour, and the sooner I " got" the better.

Starting out in the dark, I tramped off and made tracks for Provo City, a Mormon town up the Jordan River, and arrived there in a couple of days, footsore and weary.

In a few days I received a message to say that the man was dead, and that his demise was not regretted. I was also informed that I was thoroughly exonerated, and a universal desire expressed that I should return. This invitation, however, I declined, on the ground that if I returned I should probably have to kill some of his friends, who would try to avenge his death, or should get killed myself. The law of six-shooters was the only one then in existence, and revolvers were called into requisition to settle all matters in dispute.

Xolette Throws Knives

There may be better demonstrations of knife throwing on the internet, but there cannot be another knife thrower as adorable as Xolette. She has lots of videos on YouTube.