There was once a public whipping post in Bristol

It may come as a surprise to many of my readers to know that Bristol once had a whipping post.

I well remember the site. Lee Street running northward from State split just before reaching Cumberland. Lee continued northward and extended far beyond Beaver Creek.

The east fork became Water Street and continued on to Beaver Creek and there ended. It no longer exists. A half diamond was formed by the parting of these streets fronting on Cumberland.

When I came to Bristol in 1953, a thriving service station occupied the site. At first, a one-story brick building stood there. It served as the mayor’s office and also as the headquarters of the Bristol News. At that time, the mayor served as city judge.

The whipping post was at the west side of this building near street side. Occasionally, the mayor sentenced a law-breaker to receive so many lashes at the whipping post. It was the duty of the town sergeant to wield the whip.

John B. Keller, who long served in that capacity, made the first whip used at that post. It has been told that he became very proficient at its use.

At such times, the action began with the mayor standing in his office door reading the sentence as the prisoner stood tied to the post. There was always a large and eager crowd standing by to witness the carrying out of the sentence.

Mr. Keller would call out, “Lash one.” The crowd would yell, “Strike,” and strike he would. And so it went until the prescribed number was met. When the last lash was applied, the crowd would break out in loud cheers. The released prisoner would then leave the scene in a rather brisk manner. It was long remembered that one prisoner left the scene sooner than expected and in a rather unusual manner indeed.

One day, a strange and very large man appeared in town. No one knew where this man was from. He called himself Chief Mockingbird. It was claimed that he was a brother of Pocahontas Hale, the operator of the notorious Black Shawl brothel.

He dressed in an oversized and loose robe. It may have been for a purpose, for he was soon caught concealing a ham under that robe that he had lifted from the E. H. Seneker Store.

Mayor Fowler prescribed 29 lashes at the post. John B. Keller, with the aid of others, finally got him tied to that symbol of punishment.

Now when the first lash was applied, Chief Mockingbird yelled and jumped high in the air, and giving a mighty heave, jerked the post straight up and out of the ground. There had been heavy rains, perhaps making the task a bit less difficult.

The chief then swung the post on the end of the rope and mowed down a path through the crowd. The downed ones included Mr. Keller and others who tried to stop the fleeing prisoner.

Once clear of the crowd, he sprinted out of sight, seemingly headed toward the knobs. He was never seen in Bristol again, having left short 28 lashes at the post. Many a Bristolian had a sore head where that swinging post had hit them and knocked them down.

Sometimes, offended parties were given front row positions to view the public whippings. About 1876, a young man disguised himself by blacking his face with soot. He then proceeded to play the role of a peeping Tom at Sullins College (the college was then located on the hill behind the present Bristol Public Library).

The screams of the girls caused him to flee, and he was caught down by Beaver Creek washing the soot from his face. He was identified as a rather well respected son of a prominent local businessman. He was sentenced to be publicly whipped at the post.

The entire student body of Sullins College, along with President David Sullins, stood at the front of the crowd to witness the lashes. The humiliation was too great for the boy.

Once released, he went straight to the carriage house in the back of the family home, and there hanged himself. He is buried in our historic East Hill Cemetery. I have been told that Major Z. L. Burson officiated the funeral.

The last account of a public whipping here that I have record of took place in 1882. How long this form of punishment continued, I do not know.

BUD PHILLIPS is a local historian and author. He can be reached at (276) 466-6435. For more about Bristol’s history, visit www.bristolhistoricalassociation.com.