By Casey Jarmes | The News Review
A few months back, I attended a Memorial Day Service at Rock Creek Cemetery, near Ollie, and was directed towards the grave of Cypert Talley, a baptist minister turned Copperhead agitator killed in a shooting in South English, often referred to as “Iowa’s only Civil War battle.” The inscription on the headstone reads:
“Died a martyr to his religious and political opinions, shot down by highwaymen at South English, Keokuk County, Iowa, while bravely defending the same.”
It isn’t especially clear who killed Cypert Talley. Dozens, maybe even hundreds of bullets were fired on August 1, 1863, and Talley was hit three different times, once in the head and twice in the heart. There’s a good chance multiple people shot the infamous Copperhead, and it’s impossible to say who precisely fired the shot that did him in. But, it’s certain that, at the very least, Edward Cabler believed himself to be responsible.
Cabler was born in Kentucky, in 1833. In 1861, he enlisted in the Union Army. He was discharged a year later, due to suffering from chronic diarrhea, measles, and typhoid fever. In 1916, after Cabler passed away, his brother-in-law R. B. Sears, likely the last living witness to the shooting, told his recollection of what happened on that fateful day. Sears’s account is the most detailed recounting of the lead-up to Talley’s death and was the main source for this column.
In 1863, when Sears was 13, he was living with his older sister Susan and her husband, Ed Cabler, on a farm a mile and a half north of South English. On the day of the shooting, Sears accompanied Cabler to the Noffsinger Grove, where Talley spoke for hours about the tyranny of Lincoln. Cabler saw the vicious crowd, eager for a fight, and knew there would be serious trouble before the day was over. Cabler and Sears rushed back to the farm, to grab their rifles, only to discover they didn’t have enough bullets. Quickly, they molded new bullets, which Susan tied patching onto. The pair loaded their riffles and left their farm. As they climbed the hill, Cabler gave a command to Sears: “Boy, make every shot count.”
The pair arrived at South English, where a Republican speaker was addressing a group of loyalists next to the Phelps Hotel. The Copperhead wagons approached the town. Eighteen loyalist men grabbed rifles they had hidden in the hotel barroom and prepared for war. One man took a sniper’s perch in the hotel’s second story window, while others waited with swords or butcher knives. One man offered $100 for anyone who produced his neighbor’s scalp. Cabler and Sears stood ready across the street from the hotel, in front of the store owned by J.F. White. Standing with them was Jim Moorman, a 23-year-old Union soldier who had been shot in the leg during battle and stood on crutches. Both Ed Cabler and Jim Moorman wore their army uniforms during the shooting.
Talley and the Copperheads approached the hotel. Talley was warned there would be trouble if he entered town, but he claimed he meant no injury and asked for the privilege to pass through. The Copperheads shouted “Cowards!” and “Abolitionists!”, something they, men living in a state that never had slavery, apparently considered to be horrible. The loyalists shouted back “Copperheads!” and “Traitors!”
Talley leaped up on his wagon, brandishing his knife and pistol. His men shouted that the crowd were “n-word thieves,” another reminder of what their point of contention was. The tensions were at a boiling point. But, the spark that set it off was an accident. Tom Moorman, father of Jim, ran towards the confrontation, carrying a revolver. As he ran, he accidentally pulled the trigger. The bullet struck the ground, without harming anyone. But, Talley likely believed the sound of a gunshot to be an attempt on his life. He fired at Ed Cabler and Jim Moorman. He missed, instead shooting a horse ridden by a Dr. Arthur of North English in the neck.
Both sides began firing. Sears only fired a single shot, which didn’t hit anything, but Cabler’s aim was steady. I’ll let Sears describe what happened next.
“I saw Ed Cabler take careful aim, saw the flash of his gun and heard the roar of its discharge, and for good or for bad, the soul of Cypert Talley stood before his maker. The gun and knife fell from his nerveless grasp and his body fell with blood trickling from a wound in his forehead and down over his beard. Death must have been instantaneous.”
One of Talley’s men, a man named Wyant, was also shot, but recovered. I could find no other named casualties, although some early reporting listed that two other Copperheads were slain. The fact that, in the weeks after the shooting, Copperhead agitators only mentioned Talley as a “martyr” makes me think he was the only fatality.
Sam Knight, a Copperhead who had bragged that he would kill a Yankee before the day was done, panicked when the bullets began flying and ran home. Most of the other Copperheads joined him in fleeing. Wes Funk attempted to rally the Copperhead forces, but Jim Moorman limped up to him and said “God damn you, give me that badge,” then ripped off his Copperhead badge. The remaining Copperheads gave up. A patrol was established, to defend the town if the wagons returned, but they stayed away.
Cabler received threats from the Copperheads, telling him he would be killed if he ever visited a Copperhead-owned mill. Word also came that they were planning to break into his home and hurt him. For a long time, Sears and Cabler slept with loaded rifles. But, no one ever tried to avenge Talley, and Cabler died peacefully in 1916. He never admitted to having shot Talley, but also refused to deny it. After his death, Sears said he did not think Cabler ever regretted his part in the shooting. He felt he had “performed as high a patriotic duty as he ever had on the field of battle,” to quote Sears, and always believed that, by quickly shooting Talley, he had avoided a massive riot that would have claimed many innocent lives.
There’s one more chapter in this story to tell. The anger the Copperheads felt did not die with Talley. Instead, it grew, leading them to threaten to burn Sigourney to the ground in retaliation, forcing Governor Samuel Kirkwood to send troops to quell the chaos.
Next week, the conclusion.
