The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1857-05-30
4 Tbrilliua gistorp.
From the Boston Traveller. !


We were led short time since. TO recall.
in connection with the novel Of w. Gilmore
Simms,* and review the circumstances con-
nected with the wc,l-nigh forgotten Beau
champ tragedy, in which everybody IN the
country was interested thirty years ago. In
noticing Mrs. lI6we's new play recently, we
spoke of its similarity in a single point to
this Beauchamp story: but the whole history
of this strange affair Is worth recalling from
oblivion.
Our main authority is the confession of
Bcaurhamp himself made shortly before his
execution, and printed in a thick pamphlet
at Bloomfield, Kentucky, in 1926. This
pamphlet, which also contains some letters
of Beaucham, some yer: cs by himself and
wife. and an account of his last hours, is eX-
cccdingly rare, the only copy we have ever
seen being that belonging to tile Boston
Athcrmum; and we heartily wish it could be
reprinted, for it has vastly more interest than
any novel Mr.. Smms ever wrote.
On the night of Sunday the 9th of Novem-
Der. 1925, Col. Solomon P. Sharpe, one of
the foremost lawyers in Kentucky, formerly
Attorney General Of the State, some years
earlier a member of Congress, and at that
time leader in the newly elected State AS
scmbly, was murdered at Frankfort. under
circumstances of peculiar a;rocity. 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 III any way
who was his murderer.
Suspicion soon fell. however. on young
lawyer named Beauchamp, who was arrested,
tried, and condemned apparently on false
evidence, but who was yet the real murderer.
Party aninosity. then furiously excited
throughout the State by some question Ie-
lating to the courts, ascrihcd 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 Bcauchamps actual crime and his reasons
for it were made public by his own Ingenious
confession.
Some years before, apparently as early as
1918, Col. Sharpe had seduced Miss Anne
Cooke, young lady of respectable family,
educated and refined, and as appears from
her subsequent course, Of unusual force and
severity of character. Proud and intense of
feeling, she withdrew entirely from the soci-
ETY. where she had been admired and courted,
and with her widowed mother, her books
and her slaves, she hid her disgrace in the
complete seclus;on OF Kentucky plantation.
1t was here that young Beauchamp, in
fatal hour for both, sought her out, urged
himself on her acquaintance, fell paSsionately
in love with her, and, led on by his passion,
devoted himself, with a barbarous magma
nimitv. to her dreadful thirst for vengeance
or her bctrayer. lie cannot have been more
than nineteen years old at this time. and he
had been OH the point Of commencing the
study of law with Col. Sharpe, when he was
repealed from such connection by the story
Of his villainy towards Miss Cooke. Generous,
though ungoyernahle of temper, he looked
with aversion on a man SO stained regarding
HIM as "no better than a horse thief" as he
himself naivcly says.
His natural pity for Miss Cooke was
strengthened by the praises bestowed on her
beauty and wit by friend Of his who had
her scl.imprisonment but she refused to see
but she received HIM coldly. He pretended
desire to use her library; and borrowed
book which gave him preteXt to call again
in few days, when he again saw her. Lit
tie by lutte her reserve wore Off while his
enthusiasm for her grew into fervent 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 Col Sharpe.
This was in 1921, and in the autumn Of
that year he went to Frankfort for the ex-
press purpose Of challenging Sharpe, and
of shooting him if he declined The two
walked out together along the river at Frank
fort, and when they had come to retired
place outside the town, Beauchamp disclosed
to Sharpe in what relation he stood to Miss
Cooke, and ackcd him if he would fight him.
Sharpe said he could not fight in such cause,
he would let himself be killed rather than
to do it; aud falling on his knees, lie implor-
cd Beauchamp not to kill him. The hate of
the enraged man turned to scorn at what he
thought the most glaring cowardice, he
struck Sharpe in the face, called him by the
most insulting names, and swore he would
cane HIM IN the streets every day till he fore
cd him to duel. They parted and early
next morning Sharpe left Frankfort, and
Beanchamp lost his opportunity.
Miss Cooke now resolved to kill her betray-
er with her own hand. and together with
Bcauchamp, she contrivcd plot as artful as
that by which Lconore betrays Lothian, 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 muir
der again to Bcauchamp, who, meanwhile, by
a sophistry such as familiarity with u dread
iul purpose often produces, had persuaded
himself that it would be right to kill his enc
my, not openly, as he had at first purposed,
but by assassination.
Accordingly, after his marriage with Miss
Cook, in June, 1924, he formed his plans for
the deed. Never was murder more deib-
erately committed. For more than year he
was busy making arrangements so that no
evidence could be brought against him. He
even deferred the act till after an election,
hoping that Thompson, who ran for Cover
nor against Desha in 1924, would pardon him
if he were chosen, as he was not Disap-
pointed in this, he determined to kill Sharpe
at such time that his death would seem
occasioned by political ennity, for which
reason he chose the beginning of session of
the Legislature, in which, as we have said,
Sharpe was prominent man.
He travelled to Frankfort, as if on business,
lodged at the house ola relative of Col Sharpe,
and disguised as a negro, he lurked about the
house of his victim till he made sure he was
within lie then knocked, called him to the
door, showed his face, that he might have
the agony of knowing who his murderer was,
and then stabbed him to the heart The I'M
fortuna IA tnop knauy h;c ,eo,cc;, h,,t "a, ,,,ro