True Crime Chronicles: Appeal of murder in 1880's Montgomery County saw three additional years added to sentence
- Dennis McCaslin
- 5 hours ago
- 3 min read



In the isolated hills of Montgomery County, Arkansas, during the waning days of the 19th century, justice often unfolded in dusty courthouses amid the lingering scars of the Civil War.
It was here, in 1880, that John Haney. a Black man ifaced a retrial for murder in a case that encapsulated the fraught racial dynamics of the post-Reconstruction South. The era was one of tension: Federal troops had withdrawn just three years prior in 1877, marking the end of Reconstruction and the rise of Jim Crow laws that favored pre-war white supremacy ideals.
Black Arkansans, newly emancipated but increasingly marginalized, navigated a legal system stacked against them, where all-white juries and biased proceedings were commonplace.

Haney's story, drawn from a brief newspaper account, offers a glimpse into this unequal justice, where a conviction could hinge more on skin color than evidence.T he details of the crime itself remain shrouded in mystery, with no surviving records naming the victim or describing the circumstances.
What is known is that the murder occurred sometime before 1879, leading to Haney's initial arrest and trial in Montgomery County. Convicted of the offense, he was sentenced to seven years in the Arkansas State Penitentiary in Little Rock, a notoriously harsh facility where inmates endured forced labor in chain gangs and abysmal conditions.

Yet, Haney appealed his conviction, and remarkably, it was granted, paving the way for a new trial. The reasons for the appeal's success are lost to history, but in an age when appeals for Black defendants were rare, it suggests possible procedural errors or a fleeting nod to due process.
The retrial took place in early February 1880 at the county courthouse in Mount Ida, the seat of Montgomery County. According to a report in the Southern Standard newspaper from nearby Arkadelphia, the jury (presumably all white men, as Black jurors were systematically excluded in the South at the time) deliberated briefly before finding Haney guilty once more.

This time, his sentence was stiffened to ten years, a puzzling increase that reflected escalating racial animosities or a desire to send a message in a region still healing from wartime divisions.
 Haney became one of seven convicts dispatched to the penitentiary that court term, wrapping up a docket that shifted swiftly from criminal to civil matters under Judge Stuart and Prosecuting Attorney Hearn.
Haney's case, though obscure, underscores the broader injustices of the era. In post-Reconstruction Arkansas, Black individuals were disproportionately accused and convicted of crimes against whites, often with flimsy evidence and amid lynch mob threats.
The state's penitentiary system, meanwhile, functioned as a de facto extension of slavery, leasing convicts, mostly Black, to private companies for grueling work in mines and farms.

What became of John Haney after his transfer to the Arkansas State Penitentiary in Little Rock remains a complete mystery, swallowed by the incomplete and often destroyed records of the convict leasing era.
He might have served his full ten-year term and been released around 1890, quietly rebuilding a life in obscurity; he could have perished in custody, as conditions were lethal (1880 alone saw a staggering 20% mortality rate among leased convicts due to disease, overwork, and abuse) or he may have received a pardon, commutation, or even escaped, though no such notations survive.
No death records, census entries, pardon lists, or further newspaper mentions trace him, a silence typical for marginalized inmates whose lives were deemed unworthy of documentation
. In today's lens, it prompts reflection on the enduring legacy of racial bias in the American legal system during a, too-often overlooked scar on our regional history.
