Ironton Register 29 Dec. 1887 – “There,” said Cyrus Palmer, at the G.A.R. fair, as we leaned over the railing at the relic department, “is a sash I took from a Rebel Gen. Tracy, at the Battle of Thompson’s Hill, or as some call it, Magnolia Hill, in Mississippi, on the first day of May 1863.”
“Well, tell me about it,” said the Register reporter. “Oh, there was nothing very wonderful about taking it,” said Cy “you see, we had just charged a Battery and captured it. Gen. Tracy was standing between two of the guns, blazing away with his revolver, to the last. He was a brave fellow and paid the cost of his courage, for he fell pierced, I expect, by fifty bullets. I took the sash from his dead body as he lay between the guns, ghastly and bloody.”
“Oh, yes. I belonged to the 22nd Kentucky Regiment Company G and we were in the 13th Army Corps, commanded by Gen. McClelland. He brought on the fight and would have got licked if it hadn’t been for Gen. McPherson coming up with his corps, and then we whipped them.”
“Were you in any tight place that day?”
“During a little lull in the storm, I thought I would go into the cane break, a short distance where there was a spring, and get me a drink. Of course, I was not thinking of any danger and only kept my eyes watching for the spring.
“Pretty soon I leaned to it and, as I had no cup, I threw myself down on my knees and bent forward. in the good old spring fashion, and took a drink of the clear, bubbling water. When I had got my fill, I rose, and just as 1 got my head erect, every hair on it fairly stood up from fear, for right in front of me, only a few paces, was a reb soldier with his gun aimed right at me.
I had no time for anything, neither to think nor to act, for I had already given myself up for gone. ‘Bang!’ went the rifle, it seemed like a double shot, I felt the ball bump my forehead as it whizzed by, and I fell backward, not knowing whether to die or live, but just as I fell back, I thought I saw the Johnny tumble also. In a moment I raised my head again and saw by my side Corporal Lawhorn of my company intent on finding if I was hurt or not, and finding I was all right, went on to tell me how it happened.
“He said he was going to get a drink, too and as he neared the spring, saw me stooping to get a drink and also the reb opposite waiting til I raised up so as to shoot, when he, Lawhorn, drew a bead on the fellow and banged away, just as the reb shot, and as luck would have it Lawhorn beat the reb shooting.
“We went over there to where Johnny lay and found that the ball had struck him fair in the forehead, but had ranged upward, and came out of the top of the head. He didn’t quiver after the ball hit him. ‘Now, don’t you think that was a close call for me?’ ‘Indeed, it was Cy, but where is Lawhorn, it occurs to me that you would want to thank that man once a month, or so.’ ‘I would like to see him,’ said Cy, ‘but the last I heard of him he had turned Methodist preacher and is now down in Arkansas trying to convert the heathen.”
“Thanks, Cy.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.”
The Jackson Standard, Jackson, Ohio, 22 Dec. 1881 p1
Another Murder Near Ironton.
The good people of Ironton have been considerably excited on account of the murder just east of the city limits. Dr. Joseph A. Beggs was a clerk at Aetna Iron Works and an eminent chemist. He was shot and killed nearly eleven o’clock at night, by Bill Zeek and John Wagoner.
We have carefully read the testimony taken at the Coroner’s inquest, as reported in the Ironton papers, and there appears to be a considerable mystery about it. The case appears to be mixed up with bad women, beer, and tobacco. The murderers, and the persons who were present, testify that a man came to Wagoner’s house and commenced whistling and kicking against the fence.
He was asked what he wanted, and what his name was. He said his name was “Old Hell.” When he would not go away, they shot him. There is other evidence, tending to show that the murder was committed at a point on the railroad, and not at Wagoner’s house.
The citizens of Ironton have held a meeting and passed resolutions requesting Judge Harper to hold a special term of Court to try the murderers. They also appointed a committee to raise money for the widow and children of the murdered man.
The Ironton papers speak of Dr. Beggs as a quiet, inoffensive, moral, good citizen. People sometimes differ on these questions. In Ironton, it seems, a man may spend his time and money at a beer hell until nearly midnight, smoking cigars and swilling beer, and yet be a model of morality in that moral city. Fanatics, like ourselves, view it in a different light. In order to explain our meaning, we publish part of the testimony of two or three of the witnesses:
Jesse W. Maynard. – Myself, Cyrus Palmer, and Lafayette Mead were going home from Ironton about 10 and 11 o’clock and stopped at Lion Garden to get a drink of beer. Beggs and the saloon keeper were sitting there reading and smoking.
We went out again, and Palmer and I stood and talked for 15 or 20 minutes when Beggs came out of the saloon and walked just behind us, and turned off at the path to the right just by the LePage house. We kept on up the pike and about the third telegraph post above elm tree house heard someone say, “there goes the d—-n son of a b—-,” and in five or six steps heard a gun fire, and in a short time heard another shot; thought a little further down and a fainter pistol.
Henry Fisher, proprietor of Lion Garden, and his son, also testified. Mr. Beggs came into the saloon at about 8 or 9. In a short time, Palmer and his partners came in, got a glass of beer each, and went out. Beggs called for a cigar at first, sat down at a table to read the Irontonian, and took a glass of beer there.
When the three men went out, he was the only customer left, and he remained for quite a time with Mr. Fisher. He bought two more cigars, saying they were good, and finally took another beer at the bar. He passed out a little before ten, the Fishers thought and was seen by them for a few steps, going up the road.
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