Bradford reporter. [volume] (Towanda, Pa.) 1844-1884, 1857-06-18
[From the Boston Traveler.l
The Beauchamp Tragedy in Kentucky.

~nS DSouSAoiH 4Ao6Ouy IA A0nCuVAy'
We were led, short time since, to recall,
In connection with the novel of W. Gilmore
Slmms, and review the circumstances connect
ed with the well-nigh forgotten Beauchamp
tragedy, in which everybody in the country
was interested thirty years ago.
On the night of Sunday, the 9th OF Novem-
ber, 1925, Col. Solomon p. Sharpe, one of the
| foremost lawyers in Kentucky, formerly At
torney General of the State, some years ear
lier q member of Congress, and at that time
q leader in the newly elected State Assembly,
was murdered at Frankfort, under circumstan-
ces of peculiar atrocity He was reused from
his bed by some one knocking at his door,
and he was there seized by the assassin, who
after some words, stabbed him to the heart,
almost in sight of his wife, who rushed to his
side, but too late to hear a syllable from him,
or to learn in any way who was his murderer.
Suspicion soon fell, however, on a young
lawyer named Beauchamp, who was arrested,
tried, and condemned apparently on false evil
dence, but who was yet the real murderer
Party animosty, then furiousy excited through
out the State by some question relating to the
courts, ascribed the murder to political hatred,
for Sharpe was the leader of his party, and
the idol of the people nor was it till after
the trial that the astounding story of Beau
champs actual crime and his reasons for it
were made public by his own ingenious con-
fession.
Some years before, apparently as early as
1918, Col. Sharpe had seduced Miss Ann
Cooke, young lady of respectable family,
educated and refined, and as appears from her
subsequent course, of unusual force and severi-
tv If character Proud and intense of feeling,
she VIII. .hdrew entirely from the society where
she had been admired and courted, and with
her widowed ,nother, her books and her slaves,
she hid her disgrace in the complete secuslon
of Kentucky plantation
1t was here that you2g Beauchamp, in IA
tai hour for both, sought h1r out urged him-
self on her acquaintance fell passlohateiy III
love with her, and, led on by his passion, de-
voted himself, with barbarous ma9Nanlmlty,
to her dreadful thirst for vengeance on her
betfayer. He cannot have been more man
nineteen years old at this time, and he hat.
been on the point Of commencing the study OF
law with Col Sharpe, when he was repeled
from such connection by the story OF his VII
lainy towards Miss Cooke. Generous, though
unsovernable of temper, he looked with aver
sion on a man SO stained-regardlng him as
i" no better than a horse thief" as he himself
naively says.
His natural pity for Miss Cooke was strength
ened by the praises bestowed on her beauty
and wit by friend of his who had been her
former admirer. He visited her in her SELF
imprisonment, but she refused to see him he
insisted, and she at last came forth, but she
received him coldly. He pretended desire
to use her library, and borrowed book, which
gave hm yretext to call again in few days
when he again saw her. Little by little her
reserve wore off, while his enthusiasm for her
grew into feryent love. He urged his suit and
besought her hand in marriage, which she at
first steadily refused, and only yielded finally
on condition that he should first kill Colonel
Sharpe.
This was in 1921, aud in the autumn of that
year he went to Frankfort for the express pur-
pose of challenging Sharpe, and of shooting
him if he declined, The two walked out to-
gether along the river at Frankfort, and when
they had come to a retired place outside the
town, Beauchamp disclosed to Sharpe i'll what
relation he stood to Miss Cooke, and asked If
he would fight him. Sharpe said ne could
not fight in such a cause-he would let him.
self be killed rather than do it and falling on
his knees, he implored Beauchamp not to kill
him. The hate of the enraged man turned to
scoru at what he thought the most glaring
cowardice-he struck Sharpe in the face, call
ed him by the most insulting names, and swore
he would cane him in the streets every day till
he forced him to a duel They parted, and
early next morning Sharpe left Frankfort, and
Beauchamp lost his opportunity.
Miss Cooke now resolved to kill her betray-
er with her own hand, and together with Beau
champ, she contrived plot as artful as that
by which Leonore betrays Lothair, to bring
him to her house, where she could shoot him.
This failed, and after long time she gave up
her cherished plan, and left the murder again
to Beauchamp, who, meanwhile, by a sophistry
such as familiarity with dreadful purpose Of
ten produces, had persuaded himself that 1t
would be right to kill his enemy, not openly
as he had at first proposed, but by assasslna-
ton
Accordingly, after his marriage with Miss
Cooke, in June, 1924, he formed his plans for
the deed. Never was a murder more dellbe-
rately committed For more than year he
was busy making arrangements so that no evil
dence could be brought against him. lie even
deferred the act till after an election, hoping
that Thompson who ran for Governer against
Desha in 1924, would pardon him if he were
chosen, as he was not. Disappointed in this,
he determined to kill Sharpe at such time
that his death would seem occasioned by po-
litical enmity for which reason he chose the
beginning of session of the Legislature, in
which, as we have said, Sharpe was promi-
nent man.
He travelled to Frankfort, as if on business,
lodged at the house of a relative of Col Sharpe,
and, disguised as a negro, he lurked about the
house of his victim till he made sure he was
within He then Knocked, called hip to the
door, showed his face, that he might we the
agony of knowing who bis murderer was, and