Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1906-07-05
BLOOD-AND-THUNDER
AS A PROFESSION
HOW DIME NOVELS ARE MANU-
FACTURED.
GREAT PRODUCER DIES
After Writing Hundreds of "YeIow
Backs" Col. n. X. ShackeIford
Observation-Disclosures and Preacher
on the Side-Less Blood and Thun-
der Now.

A brief dispatch in the newspapers
a few days ago announced the death
of Colonel H. K Shackelford of Balm
bridge, Ga, man known to few nv
this title, but famous among a GER
tain class Of readers the country
over as Hal Standish, author of
Fred Fearnot, Old Sleuth and other
| stories of adventure. He had for
thirty-five years welded a pen that
dripped gore and traced innumerable
thrills upon the excited fancy of
American youth morbibly hungry for
tales of improbable performances by
mythical heroes. When not engaged
In literary pursuits, Colonel Shackel-
ford on occasion lectured, filled a pull
pit as Baptist minister or delivered
democratic campaign speeches. He
died at the age of 65.
What thity-ive years of labor in
the writing OF these blood-and-thun-
der tales means can scarcely be ap-
preciated bw the average person. Col
onel Shackelford had penned millions
of words, aggregating hundreds of
volumes Of fiction. While lacking
the merit to entitle them to rank as
literature, his stories were ingenious
in their composition and possessed
the interest necessary to compel their
npruSa1 nv InrUn n1acc Tn taI
ly he had slain more men with his
pen than fell in battle during the
Spanish-American war.
The Last of an Od-Time School.
Colonel Shackelford was one of
the last of an old-time school of writ
ers that enjoyed its greatest pros
perity twenty years ago. In those
days there were a half dozen large
publishing houses In this country
that subsisted almost exclusively. up
on the returns from sale of what the
English call penny dreadfuls," hair
raising narratives of Indian fights,
battles between detectives and des-
perate criminals, and life in western
mining camps. There are few mid
die aged men today who cannot re-
call when they carried a ragged
'Beadle e Adams Dime Library" In
their pistol pockets, seizing every
opportunity to surreptitiously scan it's
fearful but fascinating pages. Hal
Standish, Oil Coomes, Captain Mayne
Reid, Ned Buntline, Joseph E. Bad.
ger, Jr, Old Sleuth, Nick Carter,
Buckskin Sam and Colonel Prentiss
Ingraham were the authors of that
day whose names on the title pages
of a library were guarantee of
Nightmares to the boy reader. In
a few instances these were the true
names of the writers. AS time pass
ed death thinned the ranks of the
"thrillers," but their places were i'm
mediately taken by imitators and
their names continued to adorn the
covers of the pocket novel.
The greatest of the old-time pro-
fessional blood-curdlers, and one of
the number that habitually wrote I'M
der their own names, was Colonel
Prentiss lngraham, who died two
years ago. Colonel Ingraham was
an ex-Confederate officer, an adven-
turer in many climes, highly cultured
and possessed of marvellous imagi-
nation. 1t was his boast that he had
written more than LOO complete
tales of adventure, varying in length
from the conventional short story to
volumes of several hundred pages He.
more nearly than any of his contem-
orarles, approached a high literary
standard in his work. To the day of
his death he was on the pay roll of &.
New York firm of publishers, though
the infirmities of old age had practi-
cally retired him from active service
several years before. One of his last
efforts was to write, in characteristic
dine novel style, an account of the
exploits and death Of the notorious
western bandit, Tracy, for the New
York Journal
He Knew OF What He Wrote,
Colonel Ingraham was one of the
very few writer's of his class who had
ever witnessed such scenes as
wee described and had
visited the localities told of. The
larger numb Der of Wild West writer's
were eastern men. who had never
seen the prairies, and had never seen
an Indian other than the innocuous
variety adorning cigar stores. One
of the most successful writer's of
western tales was a New Yorker who |
had never been outside OF the state, |
and for the last twenty years of his |
life never visited any part of his |
native city north of Twenty-third st.
BY no means blind to the peculiar |
and somewhat Indifferent quality of |
the Observation-Disclosures" class OF read |
ing matter. Colonel Ingraham de- |
lighted in discussing, facetitiously, its |
"oh, no; never run out of ma !
teriol /" ha would rpnlv ~ fuorirto- |