Plymouth advertiser. [volume] (Plymouth, Ohio) 1853-1988, 1854-05-27
ASabbath of Murders,

.
Arkansas. is beautifully situated on an
immense platum ofthe Ozark Mountains.
With its purling streams, delicious climate,
pure air, and brilliant sky, one would sup
pose it village fitted 10 ins pire feelings
OF devotion, visions OF poetry, and dreams
OF innocence and Eden. Alas! that the
horrible facts of its past history should
prove the pleasing inference from its
topograby, IN utter and glaring non
sequiter--for there is not a street, or cor
aer, or dark alley within its limits, which
has not been The theatre of murder There
is scarcely apebbls of an old grey lines.
tone in its public square, that has not been
more than once redeemed sith human
blood.
LIE. me dsguerreo,ype the clique oflegal.
ized bandtii! Let me paint them to the
life, not in rest, but in action, as saw
them on that dreadful Sabbath in July,
is39-a day that will long be remembered
by the people OF Arkansas, under the aw.
tul name of the sabbath of Murders"
1t is eleven o'clock the sky is cloud.
less; the sunligh, looks divine, and gentle
heeze fromihe southern prairies, fans the
warm bosom Of The atmosphere. bringing
balm on its wings, and delicious coolness.
Ala ost the whole population OF the coun.
try seems urned out to-day, for yonder
vast court house in the centre Of the pub
lie square, is crowded from floor TO gall
lery. Hark hear you not the ringing
chorus of half thousand voices sending
np on high the solemn, chaunted hymn,
tribute to the Universal Father? Hence
you may know it is the Chris inns Sab
bath, and they use the forum as church
TO Gay. But they are not all at chnrch
See the door of the great log grocery to
the west, and only fifty yards from the
place of prayer and praise, stands wide
open, as if in defiance of the law and
scorn of God. Go, enter, and take notes
Of the scene within.
That por,ly mass of flesh and bones,
lie Of the small grey eyes, lit with a cum
ming twinkle, like two Goals of fire on
the lily ground Of his fat face, is VIM.
Mex. Ball, Of the Fayetteville Bank
In the sharp, sinister voice, he is direct,
ing the others how 10 do slhe work well
and quickly He carries no weapon
himself; for although man OF amazing
strength, he never fights, being u mem.
LerOf he Cumberland Church: And yet
he is the soul of the Fayetteville clique
he does all their thinking. rs poll
sician his influence is unbounded, anc
hence the current pIoverb in Arkansas:
AS goes Ball, so goes Washington
county; as goes Washington county, SC
goes the State
His name was affixed as signer to tht
Constitution, and prefxed as compile
~ the frs! code Of laws, for digestint
which he received five thousand dollars
He has grown rich within three years
and his farm, with its slaves, lies mil
west of tie village.
Behold that tall, slender man, dresse
an the extreme foppishness Of the fashion
You see the hilt Of his bowie-knife CLEAN
ing through the snowy ruffles of his shi'
bosom; he is busly engaged ramminl
home double charge into the barrel OF
superb Daringer pistol, his fingers, glitter
ing with gold rings, tremble nervously--
it may be with fear, or perhaps, it is from
pain--for, rs you observe, his face i
considerably lacerated. Big Tom Wag
onon cowhided him yesterday for insult
ing a female, and his companions of tn
clique will avenge the affront to day. II
is Mather Leeper, receiver Of public mon
eys in the public Office, colonel of mil
tia, lawyer and duelist. He, too, ha
acquired large farm and many slaves
some of whom, it is whispered, ale hi
near relatives.
The handsome gentlemHn, leanin
against the counter, with such a sleep
look, is the distric. judge, the Hon. Jo
Hoge. He remarks lazily, in thick, ,ha
drunken voice.
Boys, l don't think it will do for me I
be seen among you. You: know I'll hav
10 preside at your trial.
Very true.' said Ball, you had bette
go into the back room and take CON
Portable nap. The sound Of pistols wi
wake you in time for dinner.
You notice the small, hook>nosed yout
in thecorner, with hang-dog countenanc'
He is liking fresh caps on the tubes {
4 his revolver. That is Mr.. Sheriff Pleas
anti mere boy in years, but .housan
years old in perjury and murder. Hark
he speaks in tones of piping treble
'Gentlt men, as 1 arm a sworn peac,
officer, Ill hang back at the outset, b,
help you if you get in a hard pinch.'
THAT ia right said Ball,
Behold anotherof these twelve apostl
and missionaries Of murder, a perfe,
mountain of horse.like muscles, his bro
stamped with the impress Of drunkenne
and desperation, as witk die. His rec
and swaggers across the floor, with bra'
dy-bottle in one hand, and a double ba
relied shot gun in the other, swearir
~, through storm Of hiecoushs, his favo
= 'ite oath--
III and forty Injins, I'll make the
tails fly upv