The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1897-05-30

vout corpse
LAS Percival has spoken only of the
time when circumstances led me in oppo-
sition to the wrath of Simon Bolivar
Buckner, I shall tell only of that instance.
1t was the eliminating affair of a brief
season fun OF the hottest events one
could wish. I may say in parenthasis that
l had a few Mccoy relatives up there who
vouched for me, and my errand grew
from that of a newspaper-The Mountain
Monitor. i ought to have been called the
Alpine Apologist, for their were five col
umns of apology to one column of state
news clipped from Cincinnati papers. Ac-
tually, I found that these people were
so touchy that the merest three-Iine per
sonal item was taken as studied insult
and one requiring an explanation in the
next issue, or death. l always politely ex-
planned 1t was an easy job. l didn't
have to bother hunting news. When my
one printer demanded copy had only TO
sit down and write another apology. They
cleaned me out a few times for luck, out
that is neither here nor there.
Il had been there long enough 70 nave
the confidence without the bullets of the
McCoys, when one January night a gang
of Hatfelds led by Devil Anse and lis
ton Hatfield, the latter a son of one OF
the West Virginia leaders, came over,
wearying of six months of peace, and
burned the house of old Randall Mccoy,
son. The next day the McCoys were out
man hunting.
"Old Randall had marked one of the as
sassins, Elston by putting bullet through
his wrist as his hand had been showed
through the half-open door. With that
to guide us-for 1 went along with one of
the parties, comforting myself with the
idea that L was there merely as news
paper man-we crossed the river and beat
up the mountain side. A man named
Frank Phillips was at the head of our
band of nine or ten men. On the second
morning out we saw a woman climbing
the hill with a basket and we knew she
was taking provisions to some hidden
Hatfield She saw us, too, and gave the
alarm and the concealed men, one of
whom was old Cap Hatfield, an eX-con-
federate officer, broke. We got one of
them, but Cap found refuge in dense
and almost unapproachable underbrush,
from which, sheltered by a great tree, he
sent cursory but effective bullets at our
party. The only approach to the barr1-
caded man was across a clearing, and,
as he was a dead shot, this route seemed
uninviting, especially to me, being
perfect representation of a man scared to
death. But Phillips, with nerve hardly
conceivable, declared that he would run
across and rout the game. He did, too,
successfully daring the old mans rain
storm of bullets, and in the face of the
fact that he was crack with WlncneS-
ter. Cap came from behind his tree and
started to run. A minute later he was
a dead man.
This was just an accident. The next
day we encountered another party, and
one of the men taken was Elston Hat
field, or Mounts the murderer of the girl.
We met these men in the road and there
was nothing to do but stand and fight.
To this day 1 feel that 1 owe my life to
a skittish, dancing horse, for as the bull
let's began to sing my horse leaped and
waltzed, fairly curlicuing me out of the
lines of lead Some day when l am great
and wealthy 1 am going to build a monu-
ment to that animal. Well the few Hat
fields who did not get away were killed
right there, with the exception Of Elston
Mounts, who was saved for hanging.
1--WE were very legal. We took him oven
to Pikesville and gave him a jury trial,
but 1 may say that the moment the sheriff
began summoning The jury work also be-
gan on the scaffold. All legal forms were
complied with. however, and the death
warrant was sent to Gov Buckner for his
signature, as is the requirement in Ken
lucky Now, for some foolish reason, the
governor declined to sign the warrant,
and it was returned with a severe roast
on Pike county methods. Something hap
pened over night, however, for the day
of the hanging found the warrant bear
ing the name of Simon Bolivar Buckner.
Who had forged the name 1 never knew
and never cared to inquire.
''At the foot of the scaffold the sheriff
and Frank Phillips, quarreling over who
should have the honor of hanging Mounts,
were disabled and as the sheriff was the
only man present aside from myself who
could read writing, they insisted that I
should read the warrant. l never before
felt how embarrassing is education, but
it was no time for fooling. 1t is enough
to say that l read the warrant. Mounts,
or Hatfield, was hanged, and we thought
that would be the last of it. But Simon
Bolivar Buckner is actually indecent in
his jealousy of the prerogatives of a gov
ernor, and when he heard of the signing
of that death-warrant he set the whole
machinery of the state in action to find
leaders in the enterprise. l felt that as
would come in for unpleasant fame, so
went away. l went by night. On horse
| back. l have never gone back. and I
| don't want to- 1t is too hard a country
| for a non-combatant to get along non
combatantly in.
Last fall 1 was in Chicago end saw
Ex-Governor Buckner reviewing a pollti-
| cal demonstration Looking up and not
| ing even from the street the determined
| flash Of that hawklike eye of his 1 some
| how felt rather glad that he wasn't gov
| ernor any more and that I wasn't In Pike
| county, Kentucky, any more, taking his
| name in vain at the end of a death-war-
rant for the execution of a Hatfield"
-S-e-O