Semi-weekly south Kentuckian. [volume] (Hopkinsville, Ky.) 1883-1889, 1884-10-14
A Bloody Record.
HorKIysvIL1E, Oct. 10, 1881.

IHere Is no SORT OF uOuDt Dut we
can boast of the unerring aim Of our
pistol shots in this county. There
have been more men shot dead in this
county during the last four years, at
fewer shots, than any other county in
Kentucky. My business has been
such that am perfectly familiar with
every bloody act in the great drama
of carnage and death that has swept
over our county like a wild conta-
gion over a pestience- stricken city
and when come to think to night of
the many bloody graves scattered all
over this county it seems more like
some hideous dream, some dreadful,
fearful apparition than a reality. l
read elsewhere where men are shot
and wounded but here two lines tell
the tale, viz. "bang went his pistol
and his victim fell dead" These
killings are not confined to any part
Of the county: but we find them
everywhere, scattered hither and
thither before the wind To-day
young Henderson in the Northwest
ern part of the county goes out in
the early NOR ming to feed his stock,
his assassin lies in wait, musket
looks through the fence, flash,
groan and the young man lies
bloody corpse before him. Then the
curtain rises on a beautiful Sabbath
morling at my beloved Crofton,
Smith Stanley and Wiley johnson
quarrel, knife CLEANS in the sun.
light, sharp crack, heavy thud and
Smith has crossed the dark river.
Again go little farther over on Pond
River, and old man Isom Dulin ripe
for deaths sickle and | hope ripper
still for heaven, is called up at the
dead hour Of midnight, he opens his
door, his murderer sends two rifle
balls Kissing hot through the old
mans brain and he falls like Leban-
On's rent cedar to rise no more. Then
go with lis up TO the quiet little town
Of Fairvew, walk into saloon, see
an Old Irishman asleep, dreaming
perhaps Of his old home with its
shamrocks back in old Ireland, see
young Gibson walk by, watch him
pull that fatal trigger then watch
the poor old sleeping man without
4 home, u county, OF God drop OIL
the bench a dead man. Then come
near Antioch, see two young men Oh
their way home, bosom friends, boon
companions, with no eyes 10 see their
actions save those that watch Nations
as well as individuals. Hear their
boyish quarrel, listen to the sharp
ring of that deadly pistol, hear the
wild cry of ooh God you have xii cd
mel" as it echoes from hill and valley
all arouud. Then come here, stand
on the amphitheatre at the fair
ground, listen to the heavenly strains
of glorious music, hear the neighing
of finely caparisoned steeds, see the
glorious twinkle of thousand bright
eyes, and right in the midst of all
this, hear the quick report of two pis-
tol shots, run to the gateway and see
all that was mortal of Frank Doug
las lying before him. But enough,
let us close the bloody book and over
and above a half hundred newly
made graves let us VOW as good citi-
zens that we will do all in our power
to stop this death dealing thunderbolt
that is liable to strike any and every
where at any moment
hope (though shall live until
old age takes me or that shall nev-
er again have to work in field
where deaths sickle has reaped such
fearful harvest. l would not brood
over these bloody scenes for four
more long years for all the gold that
glitters from Maine to Mexico, or all
the honors wicked world can be-
stow. HIRAM.