Henderson County, Kentucky - Chapter 23, 1887 (part 8 of 9)

Henderson and Evansville. - During the year 1868, Captains C. G. Perkins and S. H. Lambert purchased the little steamboat Newsboy, a speedy, little stern-wheeler, and ran her between this city and Evansville, making daily trips. Prior to that time there had been other boats, and during- the days of the Newsboy there was opposition, but it finally succumbed to the inevitable. Captain Perkins soon became sole owner, and finding the trade increasing and demanding a larger and better boat, he .purchased the sidewheel steamer, Mollie Norton. A short time after her purchase, a partnership was formed between Captains A. O. Durland "and C. G. Perkins, under the name of Durland & Perkins. A short time subsequent to this partnership a contract was entered into by and between Durland & Perkins and the St. Louis and Southeastern Railroad for transferring freight and passenger cars by water from Henderson to Evansville and vice versa. The Norton was then sold,and the towboat Leclaire No. 2 and one or two railway barges were purchased, and by this means the cars were transferred. Notwithstanding the pecuniary success attending this enterprise, Durland & Perkins seemed singularly fated. In 1869 the LeClaire was cut down by the ice and proved a loss. The Maggie Smith was then purchased and was employed in the line until the winter of 1882, when she was lost in the ice. The Belmont was purchased and ran until that illfated day in August, 1884, a day that cast more gloom over Henderson than had ever been known before, or has been known since. It was on Thursday, the 29th day of August, a terrific hurricane swept over Henderson, unroofing houses and tearing up by their roots trees as though they were tinder wood. At the head of the Upper Island, and in view of the city, the storm was even greater, and when at its full height, caught the Belmont with barge in tow, capsizing her near midriver. There were a number of passengers in the cabin of the boat, as well as in the cars on the ba'rge. All of the passengers, with perhaps one or two exceptions, who were in the cabin became victims to the merciless waters, Mrs. Lyon and two daughters, of Evansville, Mrs. Murray and infant child, and her sister, and Captain John Smith among the number. The railway barge drifted to the Kentucky shore and the passengers were all soon ashore. The Jennie Camp, bell and Iron Cliff were purchased and both ran in the trade up to the completion of the bridge, when the contract with Durland & Per kins expired. The Jennie Campbell since that time has continued to make tri-daily trips between the two cities and is a great convenience. Notwithstanding the heavy losses sustained by the packet firm, they have amassed a handsome fortune.

Sinking of the Major Barbour. - The Barbour was a small but very fast side-wheel boat running in the Louisville, Henderson & Bowling Green Packet trade. The greater part of her stock was owned in Henderson, and three Henderson gentlemen, namely Captain Harry I Spotts, Commander, Henry Lyne, First Clerk, and Alney M. Allison, Second Clerk, were the officers in charge. In going up the river before daylight on the third day of February, 1848, she was run into by the steamer Paul Jones and sunk. There were no whistles in \hose days, and the signals for passing were given by a certain number of bell taps. On this fated morning the Barbour in rounding out from Cannelton, through a mistake in the signals was struck broadside by the Jones. The Barbour had coaled at Cannelton and this great wei2;ht was piled on the forecastle of the boat. When struck, the water rushed in and the weight caused the boat to careen. Mr. George Lyne and Miss Lucie Allison, of Henderson, were passengers en route to Louisville. Alney Allison, when the shock came, rushed to his sister's room and with her ran to the front of the boat and jumped to the lower deck, and swam with his sister to the Jones, assisted by Henry Lyne, He returned to the Barbour and was drawn by the current through the hatch into the hull of the boat and was lost. Capt. Spotts and George Lyne swam through the cold water to the nearest shore. When it was discovered that young Alney Allison was lost, the distress manifested was truly painful. He was a son of William D. Allison and one of the most promising young men of his day. His death cast a gloom over the town never equaled prior to that time. His remains were recovered and buried in the Henderson Cemetery. The heroic gallantry of Henry Lyne was the subject of comment for many years after the sad occurrence.

The year 1852, it seems, was fraught with suicides. Reuben Denton hung himself, June 9th. On the seventeenth day of August, the Misses Harriet Ann and Martha Carson Mintner, suicided by drowning in the Ohio River, near the foot of Fifth Street. This was one of the saddest determinations ever known to the town.

These young ladies were sisters, devotedly attached to each other, and lived in a log house, near the present residence of Colonel Jackson McClain. The story^ as told at the time, was about as follows : One of the girls was desperately in love with a young man of the town, and believed that her love was reciprocated. Time passed on, and she found, to her sorrow, that the one in whom she had confided was no more than a volatile deceiver. With a broken heart she determined upon the destruction of her life. She persuaded her sister to accompany her to the river, ostensibly for amusement, but, in fact, to commit suicide. Out from the shore several feet was a stump, whose surface protruded above the water some six inches, and near the water's edge was a long plank. At the suggestion of the desperate girl, the plank was extended from the shore to the stump, and the two walked out to the stump. While standing there, the crazed girl suggested to her sister that they tie their hands together and then plunge into the water. To this proposition the sister readily assented, and in a few moments more the hands of the two were safely bound by a handkerchief. After being tied, the awful reality became manifest, and the silly young girl who had' submitted to the entreaties of a crazed sister, begged piteously to be released; but no, the suicide leaped, taking her sister with her, and in but a moment more both lay at the river's bottom, dead, dead. Parties on the bank witnessed this, but never once dreamed of its being a reality until too late. Messrs. John C. Stapp and John McBride, who were expert swimmers, hearing of the sad catastrophe, ran to the place, and, by diving, soon recovered the bodies.

Dr. A. J. Morrison suicided on June 19th, 1859, while a prisoner in the county jail. This was a most distressing instance of the depravity of man. Dr. Morrison, for a number of years, was highly esteemed as a gentleman and practitioner, his practice aggregating, perhaps, double that of. any of his compeers. In addition to this, he had married into one of the leading and influential families of 'the town. In social life, as in professional, he was everywhere welcomed. He was more of a leader than otherwise, and his credit and veracity stood unimpeached. Now, then, we come to the downfall and suicide of one who, prior to his unfortunate step, was regarded in every way the equal of any citizen of the place. It is a horrible story to be told, and I shall be as brief as possible. Eight months or more prior to his death, Mr. Barak Brgshear caused the indictment and arrest of

Dr. Morrison upon the charge of having fraudulently raised a note due him by Morrison. The two had had a settlement, leaving a balance due Morrison for which Brashear gave his note. This note was raised to a higher sum, and, when presented for payment, the fraud was quickly and easily detected. Morrison was arrested and gave bond. At the meeting of the next Circuit Court, John E. Arnold, of Madisonville, then Commonwealths Attorney, came to Henderson and put up at the Hancock House. Morrison, in a fit of insanity, as very many believed at the time, imagined that if he could make away with Arnold his liberty would be assured. To this end, therefore, he concocted a plan to poison Arnold. He employed, as he thought, a servant waiter at the hotel to carry out his hellish work, but, unfortunately for Morrison, the servant formerly belonged to Arnold, and was devotedly attached to him. Relying upon this boy, Morrison gave him a poisonous powder, with directions to drop it into Arnold's cup of coffee. The boy consented and Morrison watched with keen eyes the hoped for fatal result. Arnold drank his coffee, and, having been posted by the servant, feigned sickness, but was not enough so to satisfy his would-be slayer. On the afternoon of the same day he determined to administer a double dose and to bring to his service a more deadly poison. He procured the ingredients and went to his room in the hotel to prepare a dose for his victim. During this time the matter was kept a profound secret by Arnold, no one knowing anything of it save himself, the negro boy, and Captain William Quinn, who had been employed as a detective.

When Morrison had gone for the medicine, Quinn took an adjoining room, and, cutting a hole through the ceiling, was soon over Morrison's roqm ; he then, by means of a sharp instrument, pierced a small opening through which he could see into Morrison's room. In the meantime, the negro boy had been notified to attend the doctor and do as bid by him. This the negro did to perfection. Soon after Quinn had secreted himself the doctor entered his room, and upon the bottom of a wash bowl mixed his powders, which he gave to the negro with instructions how to use them. Quinn not only witnessed his movements but heard his conversation. He then returned from his hiding place to his room and awaited the coming of the negro. Soon he arrived and was arrested - as it was understood - his body searched, and the powders found. Upon this, then, there were no more secrets, and Morrison's bondsmen surrendered him to the authorities. He was immediately arrested and placed in the county jail. Finding his plot discovered, and that the evidence was positive against him, he seemed to go raving mad. He became violent and very offensive in the use of his language. His trial was to have taken place on the following Monday, but it did not. On Sunday morning, June 19th, 1859, a bright, beautiful morning, when Jailer Brown entered the room in which he slept the night before, there lay the unfortunate man, apparently lifeless, his face pale and eyes sunken. Underneath his cot was a great pool of blood, and, upon examination, it was discovered that, by the use of a piece of glass broken from a small mirror in the room, he had severed the main artery of his leg and had bled beyond recovery. He soon after died. Harrison, the negro boy, who had proven faithful to his former master, was handsomely rewarded, and thus terminated a tragedy which at the time almost paralyzed the town.

J. Elmus Denton.-^During the official term as Jailer of Mr. Denton, in December, 1875, the inmates of the jail effected their escape, and this so preyed upon his mind that he shot himself. A sketch of this suicide will be found in the County History.

There have been other, in fact, many suicides in this county, but none of them, of which I know, were attended by such exciting surroundings as to entitle them to historical mention.

Murder Of Lemuel Cheaney By Charles C. Carr

1818. On the fourteenth day of December, 1818, Charles C. Carr, or Stephen Grimes, shot and killed Lemuel Cheane}', while riding through the silent, solemn woods, near Colonel Elias Powell's meadow farm. It is not known to this day which one of the two did the shooting, although Carr was hung and Grimes cleared. Of one thing, however, there is a certainty, and that is, that no incident in the history of Henderson County, from the beginning up to that time, had ever created such a profound feeling of indignation, and such a determination to crack the neck of the murderer, should he be found. This was the first murder since that of Mrs. Stegall and family, by Big and Little Harpe, in 1799, and, from its surroundings, was equally as horrible. Suspicion had pointed to Carr and Grimes, and when, perhaps, they were least expecting it, an officer of the law presented himself where they were quietly domiciled and made them prisoners. They were brought to the county jail and there confined to awaic the action of the Grand Jury. At the March term, 1819, of the Circuit Court, the following Grand Jurors were empaneled ; Daniel McBride, foreman,

Jacob Hopkins, Nathaniel Dozerne, John R. Bently, Samuel Burks, Laurence Robertson, Rowland Starks, Thomas Jones, Daniel Smith, Furney Cannon, Martin Friley, Thomas Hart, Jr., Elijah King, John Williams, Mark M. Yeargin, George Higginson, Daniel Lockwell, Simon Sugg, Thomas H. Herndon and Alfred Williams. These gentlemen, after a thorough examination of the testimony, returned to the Court an indictment charging Charles C. Carr, a laborer of the County and Circuit of Union, with feloniously, willfully, and of 'his malice aforethought, shooting Lemuel Cheaney from his horse, while riding along a by-path of Henderson County.

At the June term, following, the case was called, and both parties announced themselves ready for trial. The following jurors were then sworn to try the issue : Jonathan Fellows, Aaron Wilson, John Wilson, Samuel W. Hammond, Gabriel Holmes, Robert A. Cobbs. Thomas Ladd, William Carter, William Robards, William Miller, Christian Smedley and Jonathan Anthony, who, after hearing the evidence, returned the following verdict : " We, of the jury, find the defendant guilty of the murder in the indictment charged against him."

At the same term Carr was brought into court, in custody of the jailer, and it being demanded of him whether he had anything to say why the Court should not give judgment against him, declined to speak a word in his own defense. He was thereupon ordered to be again committed to jail until Monday, the twenty-sixth day of July, on which day, between the hours of eleven and twelve, he should be taken bv the Sheriff of the County to some suitable place on the Public Square, in the Town of Henderson, and there hung by his neck until he should be pronounced dead.- Why he should have been hung on Monday, and on an empty stomach, the records signally fail to explain, and yet such was the case.

From the depositions of James Townsend, Jeremiah Riddle, James Holloway and Carr, the murderer, the following facts concerning the killing have been gleaned :

Lemuel Cheaney was a trader by profession, from the upper part of the State. He had taken a raft of lumber to Cairo, Illinois, and was en route on his return over land, when he was seized with chills and fever while passing through Union County. He halted at Morganfield, where he remained some weeks. During this time Charles C. Carr lived near the town of Morganfield, and became, to all intents and purposes, on intimate terms of association with Cheaney. The two were frequently seen together, and on the ^morning of the twelfth day of December, 1818, both men went to the house of James Townsend, in Morganfield, where an exchange of money took place between Cheaney and a man by the nam of Paxon. Townsend counted the money, and remenibered two five dollar bills, one on the Bank of Utica, the other on the Bank of Niagara, New York ; also, a twenty dollar bill on the Bank of Vincennes, Indiana.

Next morning Cheaney told Townsend that he had a lot of plank which Carr wanted to buy, but hadn't the money to make the purchase. This conversation, as well as the exchange of money, took place while Carr was present. On the same day Carr and Cheaney left, as Carr stated, for Henderson. On the way up, and when in sight of Colonel Robert Smith's house, near Smith's Mills Postoffice, the two met Stephen Grimes, who rode along with them. At this point, Cheaney complained of being very sick, and was really shivering with a hard chill. Grimes advised him to go on to Colonel Smith's and there remain until the ague was off, and then to come on to a certain point on the road nearer Henderson, where he would await their coming and have them come over and spend the night with him. Cheaney and Carr remained at Colonel Smith's one hour and a half, or more, when they remounted and proceeded on to the designated point where they were to be joined by Grimes. When they arrived at this place Grimes was found sitting on a log waiting, as he had promised. The three then started on the road to Henderson, and after riding awhile they came to a log lying across the road, at which place there was a bush cut down. This, Grimes told them, was cut down by one of hi*s sons, as a turning out place for a nearer route to his home.

This place was a short distance from Colonel Elias Powell's meadow farm, and here they turned and proceeded about a half mile, when Cheaney was killed. As to who killed him, no one has ever positively known, many persons believing that Carr was the murderer, while as many believed it to be Grimes.

Cheaney had a large amount of money on his person, and this was taken and divided between the two. It was a well-known fact that Carr had no money and was unable to pay his smallest indebtedness, yet, after the shooting of Cheaney, he was seen with several hundred dollars. This, coupled with other circumstances, created heavy suspicion, and when James Holloway and James Townsend were shown some of the money passed by Carr, they recognized the same bills they had counted for Cheaney only a short time before. Townsend

Old Grimes, as he was called, turned State's evidence, and Carr would have done the same thing, but Grimes was too quick for him. Carr's deposition is on file in the indictment, and, if one-half of it be true, old Grimes was the murderer, and ought to have been hung. Carr protested his innocence, and openly charged Grimes with the outrage. He did not deny sharing the money after the death of Cheaney, but declared that he stubbornly opposed the killing even up to the time the fatal gun was fired. Carr had had his trial, had been found guilty, and sentenced to be hung on Monday, the twentysixth day of July, 1819. The few life's moments left him were now flittering away as rapidly as the melting snow before the rise of a burning sun. He confessed his sins, yet protested his innocence of Cheaney's murder. Old Griipes had done the deed for which his life was to pay the penalty. James M. Hamilton, Henderson's leading blacksmith, had forged the iron anklets which bound his legs together. Moses Morgan had builded the wooden casket which was to become the home of his mortal frame. Fayette Posey had builded the gallows beneath whose beam his lifeless body, in motionless horror, was to hang, as a propitiation for the sins of Grimes. He also, had prepared the sepulchre, whose funeral pile awaited to inclose him forever. The day had arrived, and, with its coming, thousands of anxious people.

In that great crowd stood Old Grimes, to witness the execution of a man who was dying, as he protested, while facing death for the sins of this old sinner. For the space of an hour before the awful moment, Carr sat in his silent prison buried in deep thought ; nor was this monologue of the wret . led prisoner very strange or wonderful. He had nerved himself to meet disgrace, to meet the scorn and taunts of his fellow men, and to meet with serenity, even death itself. The clock had struck eleven, and as the last echoes died away, Peter D. Green, special bailiff, and his attendants, made their appearance and bade him prepare for execution.

Quickly dashing away the briny evidence of his late weakness, and with a mighty effort of will he stilled the beating of his heart, and resumed once more his careless manner. Turning to the Sheriff he said :

*' I have been waiting, and am ready. Do your duty." A few minutes sufficed to remove his fetters, and the Sheriff waited a moment that he might -arrange some of his apparel, quietly and without a word either of reproach or pity, led him forth from his dungeon. Carr followed the footsteps of his conductor with a firm, bold tread, evincing neither alarm nor hesitation, until he was lifted into the wagon and commanded to take his seat. Then, indeed, he started back with a slight exclamation of horror, for the seat mentioned was the dread tenement he was so soon to fill, a dungeon far more dark, gloomy and contracted than the one he had just left. Yes, it was his own coffin.

The mournful cortege moved slowly away from the prison door, and with funeral tread, for it was the funeral of the living dead. Carr sat upon his coffin, guarded by the special bailiff and his assistants, and sadly and solemnly did the actors in this bloody, but legal, drama move along to the foot of the gallows. The terrifying structure and judicial instrument of death was erected on the Public Square, directly in front of the two-story brick now occupied by Captain Charles G. Perkins as a family residence, and tradition tells that the large locust tree now standing in his front yard was one of the posts sunk in the ground which supported the beam, or cross bar, underneath which Carr hung. Carr sat in the wagon gazing around upon the sea of upturned, unsympathizing faces, with apparent unconcern. Yet he felt more than his manner indicated. At the command of the bailiff, he stood alone in the wagon, and immediately beneath the beam, from which a rope dangled, swaying gently to and fro under the mild influence of a soft southern breeze. Folding his arms tightly across his breast, as if to keep down the tumultuous beating within, and giving one look to the broad, bright heavens, and another to the frightful rope, he at last fixed his keen gaze intently upon the human mass below him, but his eye rolled too rapidly from man to man, and his look was too eager and intent, to be the mere result of curiosity or listless indifference. His look was that of a man rapidly scanning the faces of others in search of some familiar countenance, or of some one he had reason to believe was then and there present. For several minutes, as his eye turned from face to face, his pale, rigid features exhibited no emotion, or, if any, only that of disappointment. But, all at once, the object of his search met his gaze. The doomed man's face lost its pale indifference, a rush of color passed rapidly into his countenance, and that there was some disturbing emotion those who stood near were well satisfied.

In a moment more his eyes were scornfully fixed upon a heartless old wretch who stood prominent in that great assembly of curious spectators. The eyes of the multitude followed the eyes of the condemned. Voracious curiosity now centered upon the individual at whom Carr was so intently gazing, yet he could not be seen. The multitude moved in shapeless confusion, wedging in here and there, that one glance might be gained of the object of Carr's scornful and unremitting ocular penetration. Then it was that he raised his arm and pointing his index finger with unerring precision, said, with unmistakable emphasis :

A wild shout went up and a rush was made for the dastardly old scoundrel who stood in unblushing indifference to witness the hanging of the one he had basely betrayed.

Grimes could not stand the accusation, but ran for his life, pursued by many men, and was not seen again that da3^ As for the general mass, the contest going on was, with them, equal to a gladiatorial combat, and for the entire time their interest continued undiminished, and their numbers were only increased until the close of this judicial tragedy.

The dread hour of parting was now over with Carr. He busied himself making bare his throat for the fatal rope. A slight shudder passed over his person as the cord touched his naked neck, but, beyond this, he showed no signs of trepidation. He stood alone upon the trap of the wagon ; a moment of breathless silence, followed by a quick, heavy blow of the bailiff's axe, and he stood no longer upon plank, or earth, or solid rock, but hung a dangling, struggling, horrible spectacle in the air. A few convulsive movements of the limbs, a quick heaving of the breast, a trembling shudder throughout the body, and all was over. Carr was dead. His fate was no longer a thing of doubt. The rope and death had torn away all darkness, and his dreams were dreams no more. His body was cut down and sepulchred a few steps away, where it reposed and mouldered from Monday, July 26th, 1819, until exhumed by the foundation diggers twenty years ago.

After the death and burial of Carr, public sentiment bore down upon Grimes. It was evident that his life was not safe in the neighborhood in which he lived, but of this feeling he seemingly knew nothing, and continued to pursue his daily avocation. Finally, pent up, yea, outraged society, could stand it no longer. The belief grew

Stronger and stronger, day by day, that the gallows had been defrauded of its legitimate and most guilty subject, and that the least guilty, alone had paid the penalt-i'. A company was formed with the determination of ridding the county of Old Grimes, and, to this end, they cautiously approached his home, where he was found, taken out, and most unmercifully thrashed. This terrible scourging, it was thought, would terminate his earthly career, and he was thus left. But not so. Next morning found him gone, and from that day to this has never put foot in Henderson County.

Second Military Execution -Tom Forrest And Five Comrades Shot To Death

During the early part of November, 1864. six armed highwaymen were frequently seen prowling on foot through the country, engaged in promiscuous robbery. They were known to have come from Indiana, for they had crossed the river at Newburg only a short time prior to their discovery. They had the temerity to pay a visit to and rob Mr. Curtis, the ferryman, opposite Jh^vansville. They had visited a Mrs. Randolph, widow of a Methodist divine, from whom they stole ^50, a cloak, two fine dresses, her night robes, etc. They halted at the residence of Mrs. Edmund Robinson, where they called for supper, and during this time, gave to William S. Johnson a brief history of their military lives. In this conversation they stated that they were members of Captain Ollie Steele's command, had been captured and were at that time making their way back to him. Ranging around on their nefarious career, they committed frequent thefts in the neighborhood of Diamond Island Bend, and when not on a raid, confined themselves within a dense canebrake. The citizens determined to rid the neighborhood of their pestiferous presence, feeling fully assured that they were not soldiers of either army, but a clan organized for petty thievery. To this end, therefore, B. F. Martin, William J. Alves, A. J. Anderson, James Lilly, and several other citizens armed and equipped, and went out in search for them.

They were traced to the cane, and upon entering its tangled and violently matted territory, the pursuers, when least expecting it, came suddenly upon the thieves in camp. Without hesitation or resistance the whole] six surrendered and asked to be turned over to the civil authorities. Upon taking an invoice, they were found to have in their possession, four fine new revolvers and a double-barrelled shotgun, the last having been stolen from William Vickers, and several coats and pants which they had pressed - not as tailors - but as a military necessity. They were brought by a guard of citizens to the city on Thursday evening, November 10th, 1864, and placed in the county jail. On Friday afternoon they underwent a preliminary examination before Judge C. W. Hutchen. At this examination they denied belonging to any military command, and plead guilty to larceny, but the evidence of William S. Johnson, who had heard their story several days previous, settled the question to the satisfaction of the court, who held them severally in a bond of $5,000 to appear at the ensuing term of the Circuit Court. Failing to furnish bail, the six were sent to jail. On the date prefixed, General Stephen G. Burbridge, commanding the Military Department of Kentucky, issued the following

General Order No. 8. The irregular bands of armed men disconnected from the rebel army, who prowl through the country and subsist by depredation upon the property of citizens and of the government, are guerrillas and will hereafter be treated as such. They are without any idea of occupancy or without a reasonable hope (.f seriously injuring our communications They form no part of the organized army of the rebellion, and if captured arc not entitled to the treatment prescribed for regular soldiers, but by tlie laws of war, have forfeited their lives. Frequent robberies and murders committed by these outlaws, demand that the laws of war be stringently meted out to them Hereafter no guerrillas will be received as prisoners, and any officer who may capture such and extend to them the courtesies due to prisoners of war, wili be held accountable for disobedience of orders. By command Major General,

In view of this mandatory order, Col. John Glenn, then in command of the Henderson Post, demanded and was given possession of the six prisoners. Deeming it his imperative duty to enforce the order of Burbridge, he accordingly informed the men on Saturday that they had only a short time to live, but that on Sunday afternoon they would be taken hence and shot in compliance with orders. They were also told that every facility would be afforded them to meet their Maker.

On Saturday night the Revs. J. Woodbridge, of the Presbyterian Church, and H. M. Ford, of the Methodist Church, called to converse with the doomed men. Five of them expressed a preference for the ministration of the Methodist divine, and Rev. Ford passed much of Saturday night with them, and was with them nearly the whole time until they were ushered before the Almighty. The other, Forrest, obtained the servj^ces of a Catholic divine from Evans" ville. The above and following facts are taken from the News, of November, 1864 :

" After being put in jail, the three men who had given their names as John Williams and D. and W. Riley, admitted to their spiritual advisor that their true name was Horton, and that their moLaer, Mrs. Elizabeth Horton, as also' two of their wives, were residing in Evansville. Forrest, or Young, a Canadian, asserted that he was a Confederate soldier, belonging to Captain Steele's command, and had relatives residing in -Iowa. The real name ot Jamieson is John Fry, and he has a wife and two children at Evansville. Moore is from Nashville, where his mother now resides.

*' Mr, Curtis, the Evansville ferryman, who had been robbed on the night of the seventeenth ult., went with us to the jaii to ascertain if any of the prisoners had belonged to a party of four who had forcibly entered his house opposite Evansville, on the night of October 17th. Two of them admitted that three Horton brothers were in the party, another, Pritchett, was at large. They had robbed Mr. Curtis of near $300 in greenbacks and a large amount of family clothing. These four, the Horton brothers and Pritchett, had been arrested by the military authorities at Evansville and placed in the guardhouse, but before their cases were acted upon, they succeeded in cutting out of prison and escaping.

" At three o'clock, Sunday afternoon, a guard of sixty negro infantry were drawn up in front of the jail, from whence they escorted the six doomed men to the place of execution, which had been selected upon the bank of the river, above the city, near the old coal shaft, where a large grave, capable ot holding all the rough coffins had been prepared. A large concourse of our citizens accompanied the cortege to the fatal ground. Arriving at the selected spot, the prisoners were allowed to hold brief converse with some of their acquaintances and the ministers of religion. Their arms and persons were free from irons or any pinions. After the detailed guard had taken position, the prisoners were called from the midst of the troops and placed in line, whfn Col. Glenn read Burbridge's ' Order No 8,' above published, and informed the trembling victims that the office of an executioner was not a pleasant one, but that the order was a mandatory upon him, and that they obviously came under its provisions. The Colonel then bandaged their eyes, (their arms and legs being left unfettered) and led each one to his coffin where they were seated. Their lips were moving in prayer, imploring the Father of Mercies to pity them and forgive their manifold sins. The three Horton brothers sat side by side, in full vigor of youthtul manhood, soon to become cold and rigid in death. The sable executioners were formed in two lines, thirty in each rank, and stood facing the victims, fifteen steps. The front line had been severally instructed what man to aim at The fatal order was distinctly given : ' Make ready ; take aim ; shoot low ; fire ! " and the death-dealing volley went forth. Instantly five ot the unfortunate fell over their coffins without a groan or struggle, stone dead ; the sixth, Forrest, fell forward from his shell to the green sward, and after a few spasmodic quivers, lay still. Most of them were shot in the head, and the large conical balls had scattered their warm brains about, while purple streams deluged the coffins. After becoming satisfied that the vital spark had fled. Col. Glenn detailed some of the negro troops to put the corpses in their coffins and commit them to the grave - the name of each being attached to his coffin so as to enable their relatives or friends to identify and remove the remains."

Shooting Of Ben. O'Neal And Thomas Risley

The history of the subjects of this sketch furnishes another evidence of the fool-hardiness of men, and the utter recklessness which oftentimes characterizes inveterate violators of the law. It shows, too, how innocent men suffer for the misdeeds of others, for in this in" stance Risley was guilty of the violation of law prior to the time of the shooting, but was endeavoring to cheat the law of a violator whose capture had been determined upon. In the year 1845, Ben. O'Neal, a native of Union, but a resident of Henderson County, was suspected of belonging to a gang of horse speculators, whose main object seems to have been to relieve stables at night, and run the animals to Illinois, where they found a ready market. William Crenshaw had lost a fine horse and his brother Joe. was not the least timid in charging the theft to O'Neal, who hearing of it determined upon revenge, and that of the blackest kind. He carried in his pocket for months, a bowlder or rock, symetrically shaped and about the size of a goose egg, with which he practiced at a target until he had learned to throw it with absolute precision. It is said he could hit his mark at sixty feet with almost as great certainty as the rifleman could wfth his unerring gun.- On the first day of Januray, 1845 - always a great day in town prior to the war - O'Neal came to town, and shortly afterwards saw Joe. Crenshaw walking upon the street. A large crowd had congregated on Main Street, in front ot where George Lyne's drug store now stands to witness the sale and hireing of slaves, and in this crowd Crenshaw was standing. O'Neal approached a friend and soon secured his services in getting Crenshaw to walk out of the crowd, pretentiously for the purpose of engaging him in conversation, but ostensibly for the purpose of killing him with the rock which he carried in his pocket. The friend asked Crenshaw off, and while he was talking, O'Neal drew his rock and let drive at his head, luckily, however, just as he threw the stone, Crenshaw turned his head enough to catch the hck on his cheek bone, instead of the vital spot at which it was aimed. The lick, though not dangerouSy*A'as enough to knock Crenshaw to the ground. O'Neal then endeavored to plunge a bowie knife into his victim, but Crenshaw had arisen and proved to powerful for him. O'Neal then effected his escape and was never more seen in the town of Henderson. At the June term of the Circuit Court, O'Neal was indicted for maliciously, and with malice aforethought, throwing a rock and striking Thomas Crenshaw, with the intent to kill. A bench warrant was ordered out and placed in the hands of the Sheriff, but the would-be murderer could not be found. His home was now in the State of Illinois. Several times after this, he came to the county and most generally sent word to the Sheriff that he was here, and to come and take him. He traveled with a shot-gun, and wasl^known to be a man who would use it whenever the occasion demanded, therefore, lie was greatly feared.

On the second day of June, 1846, William D. Nunn, acting Sheriff of the county, received a message from him stating that he was in the county, and to come out and take him. Sheriff Nunn, contrary to O'Neal's expectation, summoned a posse of men to discover his whereabouts, and on the evening of June 1st, 1846, left Henderson for the residence of Mr. Crenshaw, in the neighborhood of the farm on which it was believed O'Neal was staying. He arrived at Crenshaw's in the night, and his posse now consisted of Thomas F. Cheaney, William Crenshaw, Joe. Crenshaw, David Stone and Marshal] Tillotson. It was believed that O'Neal was at one of two places, and for the purpose of securing his capture, provided this was true, the Sheriff divided the squad, sending Cheaney and William Crenshaw to the house of Claiborn Collier, whose daughter O'Neal had married, while he with the others went to the other house in the neighborhood. Cheaney and Crenshaw arrived at the Collier homestead about daylight, and took position behind a smoke house standing in front of the house, and only a few feet off in the yard. The house was a log building with two rooms and a hallway, with doors leading into the hall, and a door from each end of the building into the yard. Mr. Cheaney was stationed at a corner of the smoke house commanding one window and the end door, while William Crenshaw was stationed so as to command the hallway. There was no rear window, so escape was impossible. A short time after the arrival of the guard, Cheaney saw- O'Neal through the window, and looked him full in the face. He then went around to where Crenshaw was standing and told him he had seen the gentleman, and that he was dressing himself. Cheaney had nothing but a single-barreled pistol, while Crenshaw had a doublebarreled shot-gun and two pistols. Thinking it best to notify Sheriff Nunn of the discovery, Cheaney took one of Crenshaw's pistols and fired it into the air. This report Nunn and his party heard, and knowing its meaning hurried forward and were soon on the ground. Nunn, at the head of two or three men approached the house and went to the door of the room O'Neal was in. He was called to open the door and surrender, but refused to answer to his name, or to answer to a single question. Cheaney insisted upon breaking the door in and bringing him out, but from his knowledge of the man Sheriff Nunn declined. Finding that O'Neal was surrounded, with no possible means of escape, the Sheriff concluded to come to Henderson and get instruction from Judge Shackelford, who was then holding the regular term of the Circuit Court. He had left his horse at William Crenshaw's, and while enroute to that place found David Fowlkes hunting in the woods, and immediately summoned him to reinforce the guard then at Collier's. Fowlkes went to the house and took position with Cheaney. About that time friends of O'Neal began to come up, and whisperings overheard, led the guard to believe that bloody work was contemplated. Finally Thomas Risley, a brother-in-law by marriage of O'Neal's, came out of the end door of the house leading into the garden, and endeavored to aid O'Neal's escape, by keeping his body between O'Neal and the guard. The command halt and surrender, was repeatedly given, but to no purpose. O'Neal saw the two Crenshaw's, and at a certain signal Risley stepped to one side in order that he might fire. He took deliberate aim and pulled trigger, but his gun snapped; at this David Fowlkes, who was in the back yard, raised his gun to fire upon O'Neal, but one of the Colliers interfered by seizing the muzzle of his gun ; no sooner had he done this than Cheaney leveled his pistol on Collier and commanded him to let go, which he did and skipped the fence. Fowlkes then fired,his whole load of squirrel shot taking effect in O'Neal's hip and thigh. Fowlkes' gun had hardly gone off, when the two Crenshaw's fired, and both O'Neal and Risley, who was endeavoring to shjeld him, fell to the ground mortally wounded, and died in a few minutes. At this, O'Neal's friends retired from the premises, and the scene which followed was heartrending indeed. It was not the object of any man to shoot Risley, and no one knows who did shoot him. He was unfortunately situated when O'Neal was fired upon, and caught some of the shot in- tended for O'Neal. Mrs. Risley, who was in the house, rushed to her dving husband, and wept bitterly. Her screams and lamentations were more than the guards could bea'r up under, but they consoled themselves with the consciousness of having done a duty, even though the finale was so unfortunate and distressing. Mounting their horses, the o-uard returned to the town about noon of the same day, when it was found out that some of O'Neal's friends had arrived with^ the news, and the Coroner was about ready to proceed with a jury to the fatal spot. They were given time to take their dinner, and then directed to return with the Coroner, which they did tjie same afternoon. After hearing the evidence, the guards were exhonorated from any blame, and there the matter rested until brought before the Grand Jury. The Sheriff and his posse reported to Judge Shackelford, who publicly endorsed their actions. No indictments were found, and there the matter rested from that day to this.

Murder Of James E. Rankin

Of all the horrors of the war, there was no one occurence more terrible, more frightful, or more atrocious than the history of the one to follow : On the eleventh day of July, 1864, a beautiful Monday afternoon, while the sun was shining in all its glory, and a rainfall, as gentle and brilliant as the sparkling dewdrops, was gladdening the parched earth, a company of desperate outlaws, as if with wings, flew into the city and soon claimed control of every principal street. The o-rand entree was made in First Street, and in the twinkling of an eye the instrument of the Henderson & Evansvilie Telegraph Company, located in the second story of the old South Kentuckian' building, then standing on the corner of Main and First Streets, was completely battered to pieces. After this had been done, a system of thievery was indulged, and never before or since that time has such a reign of terror been witnessed in the city. Desperadoes, most fiendish and horridly uniformed, to add to their natural repulsive appearance, galloped over the streets with pistols in hand and commanded men as they chose, at the mouth of five-shooters cocked and of easy trigger. These devils came unauthorized, for they belonged to neither army. They were robbers and murderers and cared not whose house they entered or whose carcass they punctured with leaden messengers of death. Near on to twilight, four or five of them, headed, as it was said at the time, by one Edmunds, of Hopkins County, who had for years prior to the war, been engaged in hauling tobacco from that county to this city, entered the storehouse of Mr. James E. Rankin, on the corner of Main and Second Streets, and immediately commenced robbing the shelves of silks, ribbons, velvets and many other valuable goods. Not satisfied with this, they took from his cash drawer what small change there was in it. The iron safe was in the office at the rear end of the second story, and this was securely locked and could only be opened by the use of a combination key. This key, as was the custom of Mr. Rankin after locking his safe for the night had been taken to pieces and the parts placed in a box kept in the cash drawer down stairs in the storeroom. In robbing the drawer, the rings of the key were also taken by the robbers. About this time, a villain, who claimed to exercise command, came into the store and peremptorily ordered the men out, and without a murmur, they left the house, mounted their horses and rode away.

Mr. Rankin, thinking perhaps they might return, and not wishing to hold any further communication with them, went to a room in the rear end of the third story. Hardly had he succeeded in shutting the door before the same scoundrel, who had a few minutes before ordered the men out of the storeroom, returned with three or four men - Edmunds one of the number - and called for Mr Rankin. Mr. John Allin, who was clerking for him at the time, protested his ignorance of his whereabouts, but this was of no avail. One of the gang said, " I know where he is ; follow me." He then started to the second story and from that he ascended the third flight of steps, and soon found his way to the door of the room in which Mr. Rankin was sitting. Finding him, he was ordered forthwith to proceed below. This he did, of course, and when arriving at his office was ordered to unlock the safe.. This he declared impossible unless he could regain the key which he had left in his cash drawer below, but which had been taken away by the first squad who had robbed his house. He then proposed to go down to the drawer and see if the key could be found, and as he started and had descended not more than three steps, one of the men without a word of warning fired, the ball striking him in the back of the neck and ranging down in the region of the throat. Not satisfied with this, he followed him and several times hit him over the head and shoulders with the butt of his pistol. Mr. Rankin ran as fast as he could out of the front of his house and into an adjoining store of HoUoway & Hopkins, still pursued by this man and his comrade. He halted at the showcase and was leaning with his arm upon it, when the two murderers entered with pistols cocked and pointed at him. At this juncture, William H. Lewis, who was clerking for Holloway & Hopkins and was the only person in charge, rushed be- tween the men and Mr. Rankin, and knocking the pistol aside, begged them for God's sake, if they were Confederate soldiers and valiant men, not to shoot a man who was then dying from the effects of the first shot. At this,, both pistoU'were lowered and the two men walked out. A physician was summoned, and in as short time as possible Mr. Rankin was removed to the storehouse of B. B. Williams, where he remained until the murderers left town, when he was taken to his own residence on Upper Main Street.

In the safe was a large amount of money belonging to Hugh Tate, and of this the guerrillas knew, for they mentioned the fact. They secured Mr. Rankin's watch and what money there was in the cash drawer, but failed to get into the safe.' After the shooting, the robbers plied their avocation with a reckless indifference, loading their horses with beaver cloths, silks, velvets, ribbons, boots, shoes, blankets, and any other articles attracting their attention. While this squad was robbing Mr. Rankin, others were taking horses and other items of value, and having abundantly supplied themselves, all left the town.

A short time after their departure, a United States gunboat patrolled the river front and threw several shells in the direction taken by the guerrillas, but without doing any damage.

No man then felt safe, for if as pure, noble and good man as James E Rankin was shot down in cold blood, others felt that they were in greater danger. Excitement became intense, and nothing but the want of a few guns (which could not be had) saved the lives of that squad of inhuman outlaws. To add additional lustre to the memory of Hon. R. T. Glass, be it said that he, of all the men standing around on the streets, was the only one to openly denounce the outlaws. This he did to two of them in person and unhesitatingly announced his willingness to lead or assist in shooting the last one of them from their horses before escape could be possible.

A Sad Retribution

From the News, A^ovemberl^, 1864 : - " On Wednesday night, the twentieth inst.. Lieutenant Headington, in command of one hundred and fifty troops, (134th Indiana Infantry, one hundred-day men), landed in our city, from Louisville, and immediately threw out pickets around the town, who permitted no one to leave the place without a pass.

"jThese troops brought with them, four Confederate soldiers, two of whom had ventured on their steamer (the Palestine) at Rock Haven and were secured ; the other two, Thompson and Powell, by name, had been captured. On the twelfth da}^ of July, 1864, five miles from Owensboro on what was known as the plank road, their company being in Daviess County recruiting, and had that morning fnet some regular soldiers, ( Federal ) and some one hundred home guards on Ruff Creek, killing eleven and routing the balance. They were returning when Thompson and Powell were cut off from the main body and captured. Thompson and Powell belonged to the command of Captain Dick Yates, a commissioned Confederate ofificer, who was recently killed in a skirmish near that town. Lieut. Headington had received orders to publicly execute these last two prisoners in our citv in retaliation for the atrocious attempt of a gang of guerrilla scoundrels and marauders (but a short time since) to murder in cold blood, Mr. Jas. E. Rankin, one of our most estimable citizens, and for other outrages perpetrated of late in Henderson and vicinity. These two men were selected by Gen. Burbridge to be shot at twelve o'clock on last Thursday, but through the urgent solicitations of many of our prominent Union citizens, the execution was delayed until three o'clock, in order to give time to send to Evansville for a Catholic priest, who could administer religious consolation, both of the doomed ones being Catholics. Mr. John Pernet, of our city, went for and returned with the priest. Hon. Archibald Dixon and Mayor Banks also hastened to Evansville and telegraphed to Gen. Ewing, at Louis\ille, representing that the act of shooting these two men threatened to ultimate in the destruction of the City of Henderson by bands of guerrillas who now swarm in our vicinity, and urging a request from the leading Union citizens of the towm, not to enforce said execution, as it was furthermore averred by some that the tw^o condemned men were regular sworn Confederate soldiers. Whereupon Gen. Ewing promptly telegraphed to Evansville, ordering a suspension of the execution until he could hear from General Burbridge. A military courier was instantly dispatched from Evansville to our city with these instructions. This was a cheering respite for the doomed young men, who had made every preparation to meet their bitter fate. They had called in an artist and had their portraits taken to send to their relatives. One of them (John P. Powell, aged 23), bore up like a man of nerve, but the younger (Wm. Thompson, aged 18), shed many tears over the near approach of death, both persistently contending that they were no robbers or marauders, but regularly sworn Confederate soldiers.

the recent guerrilla or robber raids into Henderson, and to assess the full amount pro rata from reputed secession sympathizers among us. In conformity to these orders, he held an interview with Mr. C. M. Fennel, the U S. Deputy Assessor of our city, and asked his assistance. Mr. P. truthfully informed Lieut. H. that the citizens of all political parties in Henderson were living in friendly, social intercourse and harmony, and had no disposition to harass or defraud one another - that all, irrespective of their political convictions, condemned the villainies recentlv committed by outlaws, without authority from either belligerent force, and that he ( P. ) being merely a civil officer, would prefer not to assess his neighbors who happened to entertain different politics from himself, as to the best course to be pursued in our national calamities. In short, that he would not point out men to be assessed for the committal of robberies which they could not avoid, and did not countenance. Lieut. H. said his orders were imperative, yet, from what he saw and heard, the people of Henderson had been most grievously maligned by ignorant, designing, or unscrupulous individuals, wherein it had gone forth that they had aided and abetted the inroads and plunderings of the various marauding bands, who have infested this vicinity. But he was an officer of the army, and had no discretionary power in the case - his orders were explicit and must be obeyed. Another Union man was then called m consultation, and it was agreed to select three fair representative Southern Rights men, who should themselves make the assessment on certain citizens, whom they should designate, after computing the amount necessary to cover all the losses incurred by our merchants. On inquiry it was found that $2,700 included all losses, and the assessment was made out, and the parties called upon very promptly gave their checks for the money. These checks were then paid over to those who had been robbed, who, to their honor be it said, universally to a man refunded the sums to their neighbors and friends, whom they knew to be innocent of any complicity with the robbers. The deceased Mr. Rankin, in this way promptly returned (through one of his sons) $1,000, which ha'^ been assessed in his favor.

" In connection with the name of an amiable gentleman and true Christian, and in order to preclude any suspicion that that lamented citizen had a hand in, or desired, '' retaliation " on innocent men, we herewith append a note written by his son and signed by himself, which he forwarded to the commander of the Federal force in our city -

'-Dp:ar Sir : - I have just heard that two guerrillas were to be shot here to-day (Friday), in retaliation for outrages committed by guerrilla bands in this place. It has pained me greatly to learn this fact, and I would earnestly plead witli you to spare the lives of these men. If what the guerrillas have done to nic has had any influence in causing this order to be made. I pray vou, if possible, to abandon your intention and permit them to live

" Shortly of three o'clock the pickets stationed at the lower end of the city were heard to fire their pieces, and soon they came hurrying to headquarters (the Court House), with intelligence that a force of guerrillas were advancing upon the city. Orders were hurriedly issued for every soldier to get into the Court House, and all the stragglers and pickets collected in the building. After a brief suspense a flag of truce advanced from the rebels, and the bearer delivered a note, which demanded a surrender of our troops to a Confederate force under Col. Sypert. Lieut. Headington declined the demand. The flag of truce again returned ; the terms proposed were ag^in rejected, and a fight seemed imminent. In a short time, however, the rebel leader, Col. Sypert, himself advanced with the flag and had a personal interview with Lieut. H., to whom he exhibited his commission, and said that he wished to avoid the useless shedding of blood, that he had a force sufficient to capture our men, and demanded a quiet surrender - which, of course, was firmly refused. Col. S. then stated that two Confederate soldiers were now held here to be shot in retaliation for crimes committed by an unauthorized party of rascals ; that he now held some half-dozen Federal prisoners, and if the proposed execution came off, he would bitterly retaliate by shooting all six of his prisoners, but he hoped for the cause of humanity, that this course would not be persisted in by the Federal officers. In response, Lieut. H. said that he was a soldier, bound to obey the orders of his superiors, and could not of his own will alter the decrees of those above him, but for the present, the execution had been delayed. Col. S. then requested that the citizens be notified to leave the city, agreeing to suspend his contemplated attack one hour for that purpose.

" The conference between the two commanders was characterized by a tone of gentlemanly deportment, the parties acting with decorum and dignity, and socially taking a " wee drap " together from

" In the meantime, much excitement prevailed. Squads of men, women and children were strii?"ing for the country. Every place of business had been closed on the first intimation of the proximity of the rebels, and our heretofore lively city presented an aspect of the Sabbath. Many stores had been packing up their goods for removal to Evansville and Louisville for several days, and numerous private families had also made their exodus and removed their household effects.

" All this was consequent upon the recent irruptions made upon us by guerillas, and which were about culminating in a public military execution in our city, which would, it was feared, endanger the lives and property of Union citizens.

" Time passed on, and the threatened attack was not made. A courier had been early dispatched to Evansville for reinforcements, or for the presence of a gunboat. Two of the latter arrived late in the evening, one of which threw several shells at a point at the back of the city, where it was surmised the rebel force was located, said to be near Alves' Springs. At one o'clock that night the little steamer Lou Eaves arrived from Evansville with two hundred of the invalid corps, who patrolled our streets and arrested our night police, but subsequently released them, on finding who they were. These men, finding there was no fight on hand, returned to Evansville before morning.

" On Friday it was ascertained that a force of about three hundred rebels were encamped near the city. Our pickets were again put out and passes required to go through the lines. In the morning of this day three civilians were arrested and confined. Having brought no military stores with him. Lieutenant H. was compelled to quarter his troops on our citizens, who fed all assigned them.

" On Friday afternoon, about five o'clock, eight mounted scouts were sent out to scour the suburbs of the city, to ascertain if any force of rebels hovered near. Frequent communication was held between the land force and gunboat. A force of the Home Guard from Indiana, opposite our city, were called over, and evidently there was some secret movement contemplated. About dusk, when most of our citizens had retired to their homes, the body of troops, fully accoutred, with knapsacks on shoulders, and fixed bayonets, issued from the Court House, having five prisoners in charge, viz.: Powell and Thompson, the two Confederates captured at Rock Huven, and Pear- man, a citizen of our town (who had talked foolishh' when on a drunken spree). They proceeded down First Street and halted within one hundred yards of our office. A small sqliad then escorted the prisoners to the river bank, and awaited till a skiff put off from the g^unboat and communicated with them. While here on the beach, Powell asked the officer in command of his guard, if it was the design to shoot Thompson and himself that evening, (The prisoners having been told before they left the Court House that an attack was expected from the rebels, and that all the prisoners were to be placed under cover of the gunboat.) The officer said he did not know, but that some new orders had been received that evening, the nature of which he was ignorant. "If we are to be shot," said Powell, "we would like to see our Catholic friend. Miss Mary Henderson, and receive a cross from her." The officer answered that of course such a request would be acceded to.

"In a short time an officer conveyed some word from the main force on the bank, when the sergeant in charge of the prisoners immediately formed six of his men into a hollow square, and Powell and Thompson, their hands still bound, were again marched up the bank to where the balance of the force stood. It was now obvious that a speedy death awaited the two young prisoners.

"Two platoons of detailed men stood apart in the street, with fixed bayonets and loaded muskets, facing a fence which skirted the pavement, not over fifteen paces distant. Two chairs about a yard apart stood against the fence, and the prisoners being conducted to these seats, their arms were securely pinioned to the boards of the fence. Powell still was firm and undismayed, but Thompson bewailed his hard fate. Their eyes were bandaged with handkerchiefs. The word was given for one platoon to fire on Powell - twelve men discharged a rattling volley full upon him, ten balls striking - one in the right eye, one near the heart, three nearly together in the right shoulder, another in his right breast, and four balls entered his pelvis. Groans of anguish echoed to the report of the muskets. The other squad were then ordered to aim for Thompson, and again the deadly bullets went whistling on their work of slaughter. Four balls riddled Thompson - one striking at the right eye, the rest entering his body. There hung, suspended to the fence by ropes, the lifeless bodies of two young men who, but a few moments previous, were in the full vigor of manhood and health. It was a horrible spectacle to those who stood near, and we are credibly informed that Lieutenant Headington averred that it was the most unpleasant duty he ever had to perform. Our citizens universally, so far as we have been able to learn, strenuously opposed this execution in our midst of men who had not participated in any outrage in our city.

"After the shooting the mii^tary passed the mutilated corpses over to our citizens, three of whom were Samuel W. Posey, Joe. B. Johnston and James B. Evans, and who conveyed them to a building where they were stripped, washed and attired in clean clothing, and placed in neat coffins. Word was then dispatched to their relatives in Daviess County that the bodies were at their disposal.

"Federal soldiers remained in our city un til daylight, when they went up to Evansville, on the General Halleck, showing conclusively that they had performed their mission.

"We cannot forbear noticing the kindness bestowed upon these unfortunates, previous to their death, by an estimable Catholic lady. Miss Mary Henderson, and that the last wish the deceased expressed was to be permitted to receive a cross from her hands.

"Retaliation on innocent parties looks like barbarity - like vindictive«cruelty. There is nothing Christian about it, and, as for policy, in Our opinion, it is the policy of madmen. Where is it to end ? If the villains engaged in the shooting of Mr. Rankin could have been caught and shot, or hung, there is no man in our city, but who would have rejoiced. Nay, we are told that the rebel Colonel Sypert had expressed his intention to shoot all such unauthorized scoundrels. But these young men, whose warm blood has dyed our streets, had no hand or part in\ny deeds of the kind. They were rebels against our Government, taken with arms in their hands ; but they were regular sworn soldiers, and condemned the acts of Edmonds and his gang, who had made the murderous onslaught on Mr. Rankin. Let it be remembered, that our citizens are almost totally unarmed - a squad of armed desperadoes dash into the city, take us by surprise, and we have no idea of their numbers - then they commit excesses which are repugnant to all eyes, and again hurry ofi, and for these acts, the sufferino- citizens are to be plucked, because they could not help themselves. Most wonderful justice !

"On Saturday morning, after the departure of the Federals, some of our prudent and influential citizens, fearing an inroad from Sypert's command, went out to his camp, to disavow an endorsement of the execution. Early in the evening they returned, bearing the following document, which was soon put in type and distributed to an excited public :

'On yesterday two Confederate soldiers were shot to death in the streets ot vourtity. They died unjustly. They condemned - their entire command condemned - as earnestly as any citizen of Kentucky, the wounding of Mr. James E. Rankin, and the plundering of property in your city. But they are gone - and their murder is another crnne added to the damnable catalogue of infamy of the despotism that rules you. We are Confederate soldiers. We fight for the liberties our sn^es bequeathed us. We have not made, nor will we make war on citizens and women. Let not your people be excited by any further apprehensions that we will disturb the peace ot your community by the arrest of Union men - or any interference with them, unless they place themselves in the attitude ot combatants. Such conduct would be cowardly, and we scorn it. We are in arms to meet and battle with soldiers - not to tyrannize over citizens and frighten women and children,

' We move with our lives in our hands, and we are fighting not for booty, but for liberty to disenthrall our loved Southern land from the horrible despotism under which it has bled and suffered so much. We know our duty, and we will do it as soldiers and men. Even if what are denominated Southern sympathisers, be arrested by the tyrants that lord it over you, we would scorn to retaliate by arresting Union men, who had no complicity in the matter; but our retaliation will be upon soldiers.

' Let not the non-combatants of your community be further excited by any fear that we will disturb them. All Union men who may have left home on our account, may safely return. In war, soldiers should do the fighting.

' The brave sons of our beloved land so far have triumphantly resisted the cruel crusade of Northern vandals, and we trust in God that she - our ''Dixie'' - may soon stand forth before the world, a recognized Republic - the grave of patriots and the home of freemen,

"On Friday, his family deemed it advisable to remove him and themselves over the river into Indiana - his physicians and friends flattering themselves that he was recovering from his dangerous wound. On Sunday morning last, at six o'clock, he requested his wife to prepare him some ham, and while he was partaking of this, she asked him if it " tasted natural." He replied "yes, it does," and then swallowed some ice water, which instantly brought on a violent strain of cough- ino-. This cough caused the re-opening or bursting of the wounded blood vessels in his throat, and a rapid stream of blood gushed forth from his mouth and nostrils, stoning his person and the bedding with the purple dye of life. Strangulation laid him cold and rigid in death, and the spirit of this zealous christian, kind husband, indulgent father, and worthy citizen took its flight to another and a better world, "where the wicked cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." Funeral services were held over his remains on yesterday (Monday) evening, at the Presbyterian Church, of which denomination he had long been a ruling elder. Rev J. Woodbridge preached his funeral sermon to a large congregation, who felt they had lost one of the best of citizens. Indeed, universal sorrow pervaded our city, and his bereaved family had the sympathy of all.

" Mr. Rankin was fifty-four years of age at his death, and now leaves an afflicted widow and eight children to mourn his loss. But we hope our loss is his gain. He was a Kentuckian, born in Henderson County, where he has passed nearly his whole life. When a youth he acted as salesman in Mr. Pollock's store, afterwards going into business with a partner (John H. Barret), and since 1831, has carried on a dry goods business, enjoying an abundant patronage. He was often elected as Trustee for the town, but never aspired to any political station, preferring the quiet sphere of a merchant, and the de lights of his domestic fireside."

[Written by a young lady of Owensboro, Kentucky, on the death of her brother, \^ illiam C Thompson, who was executed in Henderson, July 22d,

And heedless he listened to the dread surges roar ; Loud rang his voice in wild tones of despairing. The time pass'd away with the present comparing. And in soul-thrilling strains deeper sorrow declaring.

Ruthless ruffians now prowl thio' thy hamlets forsaken. From pale, hungry orj)hans their last morsel have taken; The screams of thy females no pity awaken - AlasI my poor country, my brother's no more!

The vengeance of tyrants undauntedly bore ; E'en before him the proud titled villains in power, Were seen, th»jugh in Ermine, in terror to cower ; But alaslhe is gone, he has fallen - a young flower -

The Assination Of Dr. Walter A. Norwood

A distinguished physician in his time, and a gentleman of extended information upon all matters of importance, met a most horrible death in this county upon the evening of the first of April, 1861. He had immigrated to Henderson from North Carolina, his native State, some years prior to that time, and was not long in winning the confidence and esteem of the people of his new home. He was universally popular and greatly respected for his learning and eminent skill in his profession. He, soon after coming to Henderson, entered into partnership with Dr. Robert P. Letcher, and up to the time of his removal from the city to the county, this was perhaps the strongest firm, and soon, or immediately thereafter, took up his abode in one of the finest sections of the county, lying between Henderson and Corydon, and there established himself in the practice of his profession, at the same time devoting a great portion of his time to agricultural pursuits. A few days prior to April, 1861, a worthless and nmcli dreaded negro, Jim Brown, by name, was seen several times loafing in the woods in the vicinity of Dr. Norwood's place, ostensibly, it was said, for the purpose of assassinating Mr. Furna Cannon, an aged and respected citizen, who owned his (Brown's) wife, and who had refused him the privilege of coming on his place. This treatment enraged the fiendish negro, and at a point alongside of the road, near what is known as Cherry Hill Church, or Canoe Creek meeting house, on the road leading to Corydon, and near tne old Diamond Island Road, leading into the Corydon road, built him a cave or ambush, where he secreted himself at times for the purpose of killing Mr. Cannon as he passed by. Brown hid around in the neighborhood, sleeping and secreting himself a great part of the time in haylofts of the farmers.

On the day of the killing, April 1st, 1861, he had gone into the hayloft of Dr. Norwood, unbeknowing to any member of the family, and there hid himself away befi^ath the hay. Late in the afternoon Dr. Norwood came in with his horse, and went up a rude ladder into the loft for the purpose of getting hay for his horse, and while thus engaged discovered Brown, and immediately ordered him to vacate the premises. This the bloody fiend refused to do. The doctor then turned and descended the ladder to the door of his stable, and called to his wife, who was in the house near by, to bring him his gun. Mrs. Norwood secured the weapon and started, but Brown, realizing the closeness of the. situation, came immediately down the ladder, and seeing the doctor standing in front of him, drew his single-barrel rifle pistol and fired, killing his victim dead where he stood. Mrs. Norwood witnessed the killing, and with shrieking anguish rushed to the body of her dying husband. Brown fled to the woods and was soon out of sight.

No incident in the history of Henderson Count}^, criminal or otherwise, had ever created such profound sympathy or riorhteous indignation. The neighbors congregated, the whole town was unnerved and ready at a moment's warning to shoulder arms and scour the countv for the assassinator of the unfortunate man. The feelins: sfrew more and more intense as additional intelligence of the shooting was received. Men went on horseback and in buggies to learn the facts, and contribute, if possible, in any way to the comfort of the bereaved family, and to the capture of the outlaw.

Captain Bill Quinn, who then lived in Henderson, was the owner of one or two noted blood hounds, and he, in company with a halfdozen or more gentlemen, volunteered their services to search the woods and fields, and out-buildings of the whole county if need be, for Brown. Mounted upon magnificent horses, and as regulators, they took their reckoning from the spot where the doctor was killed, and were soon following on the heels of Brown with the blood hounds in the lead.

From some cause, perhaps delay, the keen-scented hounds failed to take the track, and it was not long before the pursuers recognized that they would have to rely upon their own shrewdness in effecting the capture. Several times during the chase slight information was gained of Brown's whereabouts, but in every instance after strict search he was found missing. He knew he was pursued and 3'et foolishly failed to flee the country, but continued to hang around, sleeping at night in barns, under fodder stacks, and other places. After following close upon his trail and locating him near the Madisonville Road at Mr. Milan Hancock's, the mounted troopers approached that place cautiously early on the morning of the tenth day of April. They had been scouring the country for nine days and nights, with but little rest, and although fatigued and worn, they yet hurried on more determined than ever upon the murderer's capture. At this place ;- negro woman gave them the first reliable evidence they had ever been able to obtain concerning his true whereabouts. She told them that Brown had been seen to enter Mr. Hancock's hayloft the night before, and that she had fed him. By this time the fame of Brown had extended over the county, and by the negroes particularly, he^was regarded in holy horror. They professed to dread him, and for this reason refused to give information. After getting this, the first reliable information, the troopers were satisfied that the end was near at hand for they expected to capture him in Mr. Hancock's hayloft. Before approaching the stable, however, the woman told some of the men that they had best go quickly to William J. Marshall's, in sight and not over a halfmile beyond, for she supposed that he had left Hancock's and gone there some time in the night. Acting upon this suggestion, John Quinn, Bunk Hurt, John H. Marshall and others, went forthwith to Marshall's while a sufficient number remained to investigate Hancock's premises.

Both farms were surrounded, and much to the chagrin of the party at Hancock's it was found that the murderer had fled, leaving behind him signs of having slept in the hay the night before. The party then started to rejoin the others at Marshall's, when the sharp keen crack of a rifle was heard coming from the second story of the barn, and a rush by the outer guards into the building was plainly noticed. They then hurried on as rapidly as their horses could carry them, and arriving at the spot were saluted with the joyful intelligence that Brown was there, but a lifeless corpse.

When Quinn, Hart and Marshall entered the barn, they instituted search by driving long pronged pitchforks through the hay, one ot which pricked the murderers leg, whereupon he threw the hay from off his head, and, without warning, snapped his pistol at Quinn, and then at the others. Fortunately for Quinn the weapon was a selfcocker, with its hammer underneath the barrel, and this was caught by the straw so as to prevent an explosion. He was repeatedly called to surrender under the penalty of death, but replied, '-shoot and be d - d." John H. Marshall, as brave a man as ever pulled trigger, leveled his rifle, and taking aim, fired, the ball striking him in the right temple, causing instant death. The news of the shooting soon reached the town, and before noon hundreds of people visited the scene. A jury was empaneled by Esq. Fraficis E. Walker, and an inquest held, resulting in exonerating Marshall and posse of any blame whatever. Brown's remains were turned over to the Surgeon of the town, and the carcass was scientifically carved, furnishing an abundance of information for young students of anatomy and surgery. Brown belonged to Mrs. Saraphine Pentecost, of this county, and was a most desperate and blood thirsty villain.

The Militia And The Quizzicals

In early times, the fourth day of July, twenty-second day of February and Christmas were more days for joy and pleasure than they are in these days of wondrous inventions and universal selfishness. There were no squibs, sky rockets and Roman candles, &c., but there were dried bladders in abundance that answered the purpose of noisemaking. These days, however, were no greater than what were known as " Muster " days, when the populace turned out to witness the militia drill. Muster days were acknowledged holidays - time appointed by local pugilists to settle the title to the " best man," the time for the devotee of John Barleycorn to test his capacity for drinking all the liquor in town.

Boys, negroes and men on foot, on horseback, in cart and wagon, crowded from every direction and hurried on with anxious speed to the scene where mimic battles were to be fought. Old shotguns, rusty rifles, long untried fowling pieces, cornstalks and hickory sticks were in great demand. Cider wagons, ginger cakes, apples, whisky, and all the other et cetera of the camp was rushed pell mell into the place of rendezvous. Henderson had her muster days attended with horse racing, cock fighting, rifle shooting, wrestling matches, boxing set tos and such like. Each of these pastimes had their votaries in large numbers. Babel, in the palmiest day, was a "tempest in a teapot " compared with a militia muster. The carnival at Rome or the ancient Satur?ialia of the Romans in the heiorht of their reveline: would be tame and insipid when placed in juxtaposition with such an occasion. A modern mass political convention might be compared for noise and wild confusion with what had been accredited a regiment of boisterous militia. The commanding officer of the day would strip his saddle of its red girth, belt on his trenchant blade, don his swallowtailed blue, adorned with bullet buttons and red cahco, wave his plumed beaver around his head, and shout his orders, ''parade,'' and this was about all he knew of the tactics. Forming his men into a straight line was one of the hardest things to do and was seldom done without the aid of a corn row.

In the line were tall, low, long, short, thin and fat, old and young, men and boys, clothed with fur and wool hats and caps and no hats at all ; cloth coats and jeans, calico and linsey, and no coats at all ; boots, shoes and moccasins, and no shoes at all ; new and old pants, white, black and striped, and no pants at all ; shirts ruffled and unruffled, white, black, blue, green, grey and red, cotton, linen and calico, and no shirts at all ; all mingled together in the most heterogeneous and checkered confusion. The officers were more frequently selected for their muscle and abundant voice than for any knowledge they possessed of the tactics. They realized that it was alone their business to give the commands and then for the company to obey and perform, and if they failed, it was their look out.

Many of the Captains, Majors, etc., undertook the difficult task of forming a line but once during the day, and that was early in the morning. Many of the militia were far more steady when going into the fray than when coming out, and such was a militia muster at any time from 1812 to 1847, a great, grand, laughable silly farce, not only tolerated, but legalized and commanded by the laws of the State. Nobody wanted to muster but the Captains, Majors, and so on, yet the people, like good citizens, obeyed three times annually, leavmg labor, home duties and business to undergo this most absurd of absurdities. The sober, intelligent class of people became more and more disgusted. They were annoyed, bedevilled and out of all patience, and longed for the day to come when the Legislature would have sense enough to repeal the law, and thus end, a miserable farce and mfernal nuisance. It seemed this long looked for day would never come, so the people, that is those who wanted to work and did not want to submit longer to the orders of a few bullet-headed, self opinionated mock patriots, determined to place quietus upon the militia drills. How to do this was a question uncertain with many but the leaders. It was soon determined to meet the militia half way on the drill ground, and, if possible, to present a front uniformed in more colors, more rags, worse hats, and meaner guns than the soldiers could procure in a week's search. Under the law, company drill was appointed in April, battalion drill in May and regimental muster in October. Thus three times a year business men were required to turn out and make fools of themselves. A secret meeting of a few leaders was appointed in March, 1847, and at this meeting it was determined to parade a company in the month of April which should be known as the " Quizzicals." Recruiting officers we^^ appointed and the strictest secrecy was enjoined upon each man. Strange as it may seem, there were some good citizens, actuated from patriotic motives and nothing more, who honestly believed it to be the duty of every militiaman to muster at the appointed time and were equally horrified at any at tempt to throw cold water upon the organization. They lamented the lethargic spirit so plainly manifested and governed by the old maxim, " Birds which can sing, and won't sing, must be made to sing," and boldly announced that belief. Some even went so far as to say, " Give me a commission and I'll make 'em drill." This coercive spirit made the " Quizzicals " more determined than ever, and every remark was seized and safely stored away in memory's safe basket for future use. The " Quizzicals" held their secret meetings, formed their plans and not a breath had ever articulated a sound whereby the object of the rebels could be suspicioned. There was danger ahead, yet they braved it all, and on the April muster day, when the village was filled with militia men armed with cornstalks, flintlock guns without any flints, squirrel rifles without hammers, old sabres eaten up by rust, and many other instruments of military insignificance, the Quizzicals came slowly and noislesssly out from their half dozen secret meeting rooms, arrayed in all the paraphernalia of ingenious burlesque. Their arrangements had been so perfected, so well understood and so systematically and accurately carried out, the militia were made ashamed, not only of their military training, but of their dress, which was now shown up by the burlesques in all of its hideousness.

At a certain signal, the several squads were on the march and with regular precision swung into line. No single human outside of the command had anticipated their coming. No human knew where they had come from, who they were, what was up or what they intended doing.

Soon a golden banner emblazoned in great golden letters,'* Soldiers in Peace, Citizens in War," was elevated over the head of a horrid Falstaphian, and this the immense stomached monstrosity as he appeared, was considerate enough to conspicuously display to the amazed and uneasy multitude. The rank, more than the file, were inhumanely attired in rags of many colors, false faces of unheard of shapes and imaginations, cows, tin and wooden horns, tin and wooden sabres from six inches to ten feet in length, spurs from the size of a shirt button to that of a town clock face, guns from the ordinary toy to one the the size of a gunsmith's sign, necessitating two men to pack it. In short, the burlesque was an actuality complete and beyond any sort of misunderstanding. This squad of malconformed, misproportioned, beautiless militia killers, marched over the village, followed by hundreds of men, women, negroes, boys and children, halting here and there to partake of the hospitality of some citizens who fully endorsed the movement. Thev soon became the center of attraction to which gravitated all of the past worshipers of the militia. It was a deadener ; the patriot soldiers were disgusted, perhaps no more with the Quizzicals than with themselves. Soldiers slipped away and hid themselves, or else became outspoken friends of the burlsqueing party, and so strong was this feeling, it was believed that no more musters would be ever attempted in Henderson.

The day closed with the militia under the weather, the Quizzicals master of the situation. Every means was employed to detect the rebels, but so secretly did they disband, for a long time none of them were positively known. Thus ended the April company muster.

In May th5 battalion muster, a still larger one was to take place, and although it was believed that the heavy dose administered to the militia at the company muster would suffice to break up the nonsense but it was soon found out, the muster officers were using herculean efforts to present an imposing parade on battalion day. This, then, determined the Quizzicals to repeat the dose, and in corresponding numbers. A meeting was held, extra recruiting officers appointed, and a determination manifested to interest the whole county. Recruits were taken in and pledged to secrecy.

A report was circulated that the Quizzicals had disbanded and would never appear again in public, and this, of course, emboldened the patriot commanders. Yet, notwithstanding this report, some one was indiscreet enough to intimate another turnout. Threats were made that if they did the last one of them would be arrested, and the militia had the force to do that very thing. No matter, the Quizzicals worked along, secretly preparing for a high turnout, to be, if possible, on a greater burlesque scale than their previous effort. Recruits came in rapidly and every preparation had been effected, considering the larger number engaged, with more precision than in April.

Dr. William Read, one of the instigators of the movement, and certainly one of the most original, ingenious, and mirth provoking men of that day, painted upon several banners correct likenesses, yet cutting caricatures of some of the militiar officers and others, who had expressed strong faith in the militia law. He had also made arrange- merits for a brass band to be on hand, and a brass band in those days was something sufficient to upset a whole country, and draw for many miles. In fact it was agreater curiosity than a whole Centennial Exposition would be for these times.

The flowery month of May came, and with it bright hopes of the coming muster. Adolphus and his Angelina had prepared their turnout suits, and talked over the times they would have in the village. Puffed up Captains were anxious for the appointed time to arrive when they could march at the head of valiant Knights, and air their Dolly Varden uniforms. The "Quizzicals " were secretly viewing the circumstantial field and amusedly counting the effect of their parade upon the tender sensibilities of the patriots.

Muster day arrived on time, and with it all the multitude of hangers-on, including dogs, donkeys, and howling hoodlums. The fellow with the historical chip upon his shoulder was there, the gentleman with the injin rubber tank was there, fortified to find a safe lodging place for all the liquor gratuitously contributed; the two by four politician ready to " 'spute " with the oldest man on the ground was there. The notorious " best man " in the county wis there, ready to knock down or be knocked down, just as it so happened; a great army of negroes begged time from the plow to attend the great holiday gathering- The village was filled to overflowing, yet none of the visitors knew what a treat was in store for them. They didn't know that a brass band was in town. The " Quizzicals " had appointed the same hour for the parade and were to appear simultaneously with the soldiers.

It was appointed for the Court House bell to ring, then the whole army of " Quizzikers " as they were called, was to remove from their secret fastnesses and unite at a selected and well understood place. While the State drummer was absolutely fanning the wool off of the skin of his drum, and the fifer blowing a crick into his neck, the Court House bell rang, and just such a sight was never before seen on top of or underneath the globe. From every alley, from every street came squads of " Quizzicals " gorgeously arrayed in uniforms incom" prehensible and confounding. The brass band which had been brought into town from Evansville during the night, and hid away without being detected by a living soul, ushered forth from a narrow alley blowing in melodious harmony, " Old Grimes is Dead, that Good Old Soul." The effect was electrical; from every direction came the naughty " Quizzicals," and in the shortest possible time had fallen into their proper places, as though they had been drilling for a six months or more. The State drummer and fifer called a halt in their

"wind and beat," and beat a retreat to hide themselves from the glimmering rays of those brass horns. Horses, as though they knew the day of judgment had come, snapped bridle reins and halters, and scampered for the woods with all their might and main. Those who had never heard a brass band, stood paralized and shivering ; old women shouted Hallelujah, while half-dozen old soldiers stepped around the corner to take another pull at the black bottle, and forever renounce allegiance to the malitia. The Quizzicals marched and counter-marched until their numbers had been increased to two hundred and fifty or three hundred. They were armed to the teeth with genuine shooting irons, but then the militia did not know that they had come to stay, and not to be arrested - they had come to administer a dose which would forever settle the stomachs of the ambitious and haughty captains of the State forces; they were strong and they knew it, they were armed and they knew it, they were backed by the better class of people and they knew it, and most unmercifully did they rub, in the burlesque.