Hatfield-McCoy Feud Story Archives - West Virginia Public Broadcasting

‘The Other Feud' Looks At The Civil War’s Effects On Hatfields And McCoys

The Hatfield and McCoy Feud is one of the best known legends in the country, well beyond its roots in West Virginia and Kentucky. Historian Philip Hatfield looks at how the Civil War, years before the feud itself, may have influenced the feudists themselves. Nearly all of the men involved, on both sides, fought in the war for the Confederates.

Hatfield spoke with Eric Douglas to discuss his book, “The Other Feud: William Anderson ‘Devil Anse’ Hatfield in the Civil War.”

Douglas: Tell me about Devil Anse’s Civil War history. Tell me tell me what he did throughout the Civil War.

Hatfield: Devil Anse was, like many of the men in the Tug River Valley area, required to serve in the militia before the Civil War. That was just kind of an annual event. They would get together for two or three days for muster once a year. Those events typically wound up more of a picnic with a drunken brawl than a real military event. That was about the extent of the antebellum experience that the militia had. When the war came, Devil Anse was in the 129th Virginia Militia. And that was a regiment that was composed of men from Logan, some men from Wayne, and what later became Wyoming County.

They were in a few small actions at Boone courthouse, Wayne courthouse and southwestern Virginia, which became West Virginia later. He was part of the Virginia State Line when that regiment disbanded. In 1863, into 1864, he was in the 45th Battalion Virginia Infantry, which was a regular Confederate unit. It wasn’t a state organization, like the VSL.

I was not able to pinpoint the exact date, but sometime in the fall of 1864, Devil Anse deserted. There were over 300 desertions in that regiment around the same time, and essentially what was going on they received word that they were getting their homes and their farms burned out and attacked by the Federal Army. So they left to go home to protect their families.

Douglas: So they started saying “I need to go home and protect my own land. I’m not going to fight for the Confederacy anymore.”

Hatfield: There’s a lot of evidence that the soldiers were getting letters from home and news of Vicksburg falling into Union hands. After Gettysburg, it was pretty much a lost cause and the soldiers in southwestern Virginia were beginning to realize this.

When you’re getting letters from home saying, “Hey our neighbor’s farm was burned out, or the Federals are stealing our cows and our horses,” it was desertion en masse.

Douglas: Devil Anse served in the Civil War up through 1864. And then back home through the end of the war. How did that go on to affect the feud later?

Hatfield: There’s an argument in the literature known as the legacy theory. There’s a group of researchers who would attribute the feud violence to economic factors during the Reconstruction period, rather than roots in the Civil War. A lot of this I’ve reviewed in the book, but there’s some problems with that. Economic factors were certainly part of reconstruction in Appalachia. But the restoration of the Union didn’t really apply in that part of the country. The folks there weren’t really willing to go along with the new program. For years, Confederates weren’t allowed to vote. Confederate Veterans couldn’t hold office. There were a lot of fights on Election Day.

All 14 of the men in the feud, from both families, were also Civil War veterans. And, you know, just from what we know about the effects of combat on modern veterans, there’s a whole psychology literature that deals with combat stress or PTSD. It’s very well-researched now. But those things leave an indelible effect on people and the feudists really got their education in warfare from these partisan guerrilla missions.

Douglas: Do I remember correctly that the Devil Anse was a big timber guy?

Hatfield: He became successful in the timber industry after the war. I don’t think he was wealthy by eastern Virginia standards, but he was successful and owned quite a bit of land and had a fairly large group working for him. And there was some animosity between him and Randall McCoy that had to do with business transactions after the war, but that is admittedly conjectural.

Douglas: You made the point several times throughout the book that there were a lot of family stories that have no basis in reality — that these guys were at Gettysburg and other battles, but they weren’t even near them.

Hatfield: They weren’t even close. The Gettysburg thing has its roots in one of the McCoy family members, Truda McCoy. She mentioned that Devil Anse and Ellison were part of the Logan Wildcats, which was a pre-war volunteer company. But that became Company D of the 36th Virginia and neither Devil Anse nor Ellison appear on the muster rolls. They weren’t in that regiment. Yet that story gets kicked around in almost all of the feud literature.

“The Other Feud: William Anderson ‘Devil Anse’ Hatfield in the Civil War” is available from 35th Star Publishing.

February 18, 1890: Ellison “Cotton Top” Mounts Hanged in Kentucky

On February 18, 1890, Ellison “Cotton Top” Mounts was hanged in Pikeville, Kentucky, for his role in the Hatfield-McCoy Feud. It was the only legal execution of the feud.

Mounts was believed to be the illegitimate son of Ellison Hatfield—the brother of Hatfield family patriarch, “Devil”Anse. In 1882, Mounts’ father was killed by three of Randolph McCoy’s sons. The Hatfields retaliated for Ellison’s murder by tying the three McCoy boys to pawpaw bushes and executing them.

It’s believed that Mounts was involved in the worst atrocity of the feud, which occurred on New Year’s Day 1888. That evening, Devil Anse’s uncle Jim Vance led a group of Hatfield men to Randolph McCoy’s cabin, set fire to it, killed two of McCoy’s grown children, and left McCoy’s wife for dead.

Mounts, four of Devil Anse’s sons, and others were indicted for their role in the cabin raid. Ellison Mounts, though, was the only one hanged for his crimes. His execution brought an end to most of the violence, though for many years numerous murders would be attributed to the blood feud between the Hatfields and McCoys.

Q&A: Hatfield and McCoy Feud Through The Lens of PBS's American Experience

The Hatfield and McCoy Feud is full of bloodshed and revenge. A New York Times article in 1896 referred to the feud as “frontier lawlessness,” and the Hatfields and McCoys as having an “utter disregard of human life.” The fact that the families got their income from illegal moonshining has also been used to discredit them as outlaws.

For some, the feud has become synonymous with the type of mischaracterization of Appalachians that we’d like to leave behind.

An episode of the PBS documentary TV show American Experience explores the complicated history surrounding the Hatfield and McCoy feud and the lasting effect it had on Appalachia’s identity. The episode is called, “The Feud“. West Virginia historian Charles Keeney was featured in the film.

“I first learned about the Hatfield-McCoy feud from Bugs Bunny,” Keeney said in the documentary. “When I was a little kid, I saw a Bugs Bunny cartoon in which there were these two feuding mountaineer families. The Hatfield and McCoy feud really created the stereotype of the hillbilly in the American popular consciousness. And it was this image of a simple-minded, violent and backward people.”

“We need to understand that sometimes the people telling the story about violence have as much of an agenda as the people who are acting out the violence in the first place,” Historian Robert Hutton said in the film.

Inside Appalachia host Jessica Lilly spoke more about this idea of understanding that agenda, among other things, with the writer of the documentary, Randall MacLowry.

This interview is part of an episode of Inside Appalachia that explores tourism in southern West Virginia and the lasting impacts the Hatfield and McCoy feud has had on the region’s identity.

Great, Great Granddaughter of William Anderson 'Devil Anse' Hatfield Carrying on Family Traditions

Spring, summer and fall in Gilbert, West Virginia, in Mingo County, most days you can find a barrage of ATVs rolling through town.

Most of the riders are visiting for an adventurous vacation. The asphalt road runs are usually a short trip from their cabins, or hotels to the woods onto the Hatfield and McCoy Trail systems.

Chad Bishop is the master distiller in a nearby distillery.

“You come down here at any given time and you’ll see twenty four-wheelers over here, five over there six, ya know,” Chad said. “Those people come in here to spend their money.”

To get there, you have to drive up a steep hillside to get to the Hatfield and McCoy Distillery. Most of the customers are ATV tourists.

“When they come up my distillery if they want a bottle of my product they’re getting the best money can buy,” Chad said.

Chad Bishop, master distiller at Hatfield & McCoy Moonshine.

Chad takes a lot of pride in making moonshine. Technically it’s whiskey according to the Alcohol and Beverage Commission, but for Chad the craft of brewing corn mash will always be moonshine. Chad said the recipe comes from the infamous William Anderson “Devil Anse” Hatfield himself.

Chad married into the family. His mother-in-law is Nancy Justus, the great, great granddaughter of “Devil Anse”.

Nancy’s father worked in the coal mines. But the boom and bust cycle meant he was often out of work.

“Everybody was poor. We didn’t know no better,” Nancy explained. “He had a tough life. Coal mining’s hard. It’s a hard life. We would have starved to death if it hadn’t been for bootlegging back in the 50s.”

Her daddy made moonshine with a radiator. She said today, it would take a lot longer if they had to make moonshine that way.

But the moonshine tradition goes back even before the 50s, according to Nancy’s mom, Billie Hatfield; often people call her ‘Granny Hatfield’.

“Back when I was 20 years old, we got married and we moved to Ben Creek a little hole in the ground; one way in one way out,” Granny Hatfield said. “To make extra money, we made moonshine and sold it. We hid it when he’d bring it out of the mountains, I would mix it in a bathtub. And I got pretty good on my 90 proof and all of that. Back then we made 90 proof and 100 proof. You had to watch the feds all of the time because they were all the time after us.”

Today, the family business is legit, a registered, tax-paying business that helps them make a living and stay in West Virginia.

In addition to the distillery, Nancy Justus also runs a small lodging company that rents vacation cabins and hotel rooms to tourists. She doesn’t mind sharing her family’s story with visitors.

“I enjoy talking to them,” Nancy said. “I talk to so many people, take so many pictures. I’m not famous or anything, but they always a picture.”

Nancy said she feels like she’s reclaiming her family’s name through her businesses, and by telling these stories. Even though the family wasn’t consulted before construction of the trail system that uses their name, both Chad and Nancy said the Hatfield and McCoy Trail system has been great for business.

Still, running a business that depends on tourists isn’t profitable year round.

“There’s only seven months of business,” Nancy said. “It’s dead for five months and it’s hard to come back when you come back in March, first of April, because you had to spend all your money for the winter. That’s the only downfall, you know. It’s so hard.”

Just recently, Nancy’s moonshine company won a long battle with producers in other states, including Missouri and California, who were trying to use the name for their own brands of liquor.

“I got what I wanted. I want my name,” Nancy said. “I don’t want anybody to have my name that’s not the real people. It’s not fair.”

Nancy and her company won the lawsuit. Now they get to keep the name, Hatfield and McCoy Moonshine, to label their liquor. Chad said it’s good for tourism too. Along with the Hatfield and McCoy Country Museum in Williamson, it’s just one more way to bring another layer of authentic heritage to share with visitors.

“You can come here and go to a museum, and you can come here and watch whiskey being made the mountains you know, just like they did 150 years ago,” Chad said. “So yeah. I mean, they use the name but I think if anybody’s got the right to use it, it should be them.”

After all, the craft and recipe for this liquor was developed and preserved in the backwoods of the West Virginia hills. So the only way for it to be authentic, is to keep the name.

“We don’t really play off of the name but we want what we want people to know is here we stick true to tradition,” Chad said. “We’re from the mountains, we make whiskey in the mountains. We do it all in the mountains.”

Reclaiming their name for their business is also about taking back the narrative that has been told over the years, said Nancy. Ever since the feud, reports have traditionally focused on the fights and anger among the families.

“I could write a book on our family,” Nancy said. “It was Hatfields. The curse was handed down there’s a lot of temperament. They have a lot of problems with forgiving. They can’t forgive. It’s sad.”

Family photos of the William Anderson Devil Anse Hatfield hang on the wall of Nancy Hatield’s house. Nancy is Davil Anse’s great, great granddaughter

While she admits that most of her family members have a bit of a temper, she’s quick to point out that there’s more to her family.

“Hatfields are great people. My daddy would have given you the shirt off his back. I loved my daddy,” Nancy said.

“I was his sidekick and anything he told me to do, I’d do it. And there was things I did that I probably shouldn’t have done. I should have been killed. He bought me race cars. I raced them. What was I going to do with Corvettes? I raced them. Camaroes. Daddy taught me all of that.”

This story is part of an episode of Inside Appalachia that explores tourism in southern West Virginia and the lasting impacts the Hatfield and McCoy feud has had on the region’s identity.