Memphis daily appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1847-1886, 1879-06-21
A CASE OF SEDUCTION
That was Punished with Unmerciful
SeverIty-The Seducer and the Sc
duced shot. 1t is Supposed Fa-
tally, and the Outraged
Husband Commits
suicide.


Detroit Post and Tribune: That evening
House sent her a card on which was written,
Can | come over to see you this evenlngF
She wrote the simple word yes" on the card
and returned it to him. Shortly after twelve
o'clock Stevens, in going MS rounds about the
mill, discovered light in the window, OF his
house, which was In plain sight, and about
forty rods away. Wondering why his wife
should be up at that hour OF the night, and
fearing that she might be SICK, he went over
to see what was tie matter. He was about
to enter at the front door, when ne was
startled by hearing voices In the room. de
then went around to the summer. kitchen,
where he could look through the window un-
observed. He saw his wife and House In
conversation seated at either end of the table,
which stood against the east wall of the room,
near the window, which was raised slightly.
His suspicious were aroused at seeing them
together at that unusual hour of the night. He
accordingly passed noiselessly around to the
open window 10 hear what they were talking
about To his horror ne heard that they were
arranging the details of an elopement. He
only listened long enough TO know that they
were planning TO run away together. he then
hastened back to tae mill and got the pistol,
which he had left there In the pocket of his
vest. On returning he entered the cottage
by the rear door. House still sat at the end
of the table near the so theast corner of the
room. Marching up to him, Stevens said,
''I'ye heard enough OF this, and discharged
the pistol full in his face, the bullet striking
him in the forehead about an inch above the
night eye. He was preparing for a second
snot when his wife rushed in between them
and begged him not to shoot. House was
not even stunned by the blow. He arose and
rushed out the front door, and Stevens ran
after HIM. House did not stop to open the
gate, but vauited over the rail fence between
the house and the road. As he did so
Stevens fired two shots, both taking etf5ct IN
the back of his neck and shoulders. House ran
down the road toward his home at the top of
his speed and Stevens pursued, discharging
on the way two shots which did not take
effect Near the bridge over the creek,
about half way between the house of Stevens
and the depot, he overlook House. He seized
him by the shoulder, whIrled him squarely
around, and, placing the muzzle of the pistol
to his breast, discharged the last remaining
shot in his pistol. House sunk In the road
with a groan. Stevens would undoubtedly
have attempted to finish him, but he had no
more bullets. He turned and went back to
his home. House afterward revived and
crawled to his boarding place, at the Fullers,
where his wounds were dressed as we'll as
possible under the circumstances. After
Stevens return home he reloaded his revolt
yer. His wife still sat as II stricken helpless
| with horror at the end of the table, near the
window where she had been seated durin z
the interview with House. Stevens placed
himself In the chair occupied by House at
| the other end of the table, and laying the
| loaded revolver on the table near his hand,
! commanded his wife not to stir on pain of
| instant death. He then wrote with lead
| pencil on a sheet of common note paper the
| following deliberate version of what he had
! done, and why he had done 1t:
| HUNTERS CREEK, June II, 1879.
DEAR FRIENDS, ONE AND ALL now
/ try 10 write a few lines to let you know the
| cause of the terrible fracas. | was at the
mil, as | promised Eugene, and l was work
| ing IN the east end of the mill, and | saw
! light about twelve o'clock, and | thought
! 10 was sick, and so | came home TO see what
was the matter, and found John House In
! the house making a bargain to run away
/ with Ii, and l stool in the kitchen and
| listened through the hole in the window un-
| til | could not stand it any longer. But l
| first stood outside and found out what was
| the matter, and then | went back to the mill
after the revolver, for l had left it there in
my jacket. 1t is one | got yesterday to blow
| my own brains out when Lo left me, for | ex-
| pected she would go this morning, and
wanted to be ready for it-but it will answer
for three, for | shot at John six times, but
| he was not dead the last time | saw him.
| But | will make sure of Lo now before l
| quit, and then l will try myself. Do as you
| are mind to with our things. The instru-
ment that Lo used to destroy what had
! some hopes of being my first child, Eugene
| can get 1t for you, mother, and want it kept
| IN memory of it for myself. | wish you would
| forget that you ever had such a sop, al
| though, mother, there IS not one man out of
a hundred that could stand it without shoot
/ ing the s. of a b., and after | shot
him l would have to go to States
! prison for life, and l had rather be dead
| than go there, and as for Lo, can't leave
| her TO be with some other man she has no
right to. She is my wife, and shall be until
death. Bury US in our wedding clothes, and
| leave her rings as they are. Put us in the
| same grave, for love her yet, and l want
| her to lay alongside me. | was determined,
when she was gong to leave me, that we
should not part until death, and now don t
let death part us, but let US lay together for
ever. My clothes lcoR rather rough, l know,
! but you can sponge them up so they viii
/ look good enough for me-a poor, miserable
wretch like me. Do not mourn my loss, for
| am better dead than alive. You will find
what little money (about three dollars) l
have got In my pocketbook, IN these pants
! that | have got on, and Clark owes me for
this afternoon work, Is all l have got to
bury us with. But ! suppose hole in the
| ground is good enough for me, and little
| dirt over me. Well, l will have to stop
| writing, or some one will be here to stop my
work. This is Johns hat that lays on the
| floor. Farewell forever. From your hard
| hearted son, ALANsoN STEVENS.
Don't let Lydia (Eugene's wife) have any
of our things. for she has made us great
deal of trouble.
Exactly what transpired between them as
he was writing this note is not known. When
it had been finished, he told her that he was
ready for her, picked up the pistol, and, pre-
senting 1t across the table, directly in