Sheriff Lyman Assassinated

Chapter XXVI

It was July 6, 1870. Chariton was a placid town of a few hundred industrious people. Gaylord Lyman, great uncle of Willard, Richard and Gladys Lyman Shimp, was Sheriff of Lucas County, widely known and highly respected. He was in his first term as sheriff and was slated to run again. A few days before this, he had received a letter from someone in Missouri describing a fine horse that had been stolen and asking that a keen look out be kept.

The thief arrives

On that fateful morning there rode into Chariton, one who brought “such bitter business as the day would quake to look on”.  We are indebted to Anna Beem of Fairfield and her niece Martha Beem Buss of Santa Ana, California for hitherto unpublished details in the tragedy of that day.  Also, research has been done in old histories, scrap books and old newspapers loaned by persons interested in preserving Lucas County history.  As soon as the stranger arrived, he began assiduously trying to sell the horse and finally did sell it to Capt. W.I. Robison for $50 and a watch.  His selling efforts had aroused the suspicions of several citizens.  Sheriff Lyman located him in a saloon just south of the southeast corner of the square.  He later gave his name as Hiram Wilson, 21 years old, from Putnam County, Missouri.  He insisted that he was innocent of horse thievery and offered to bring witnesses to which Sheriff Lyman agreed provided he go with him.  To this, the man started to walk away but Lyman said “hold on”.  The man turned around, pulled out a heavy army revolver and said “If you come another step, I’ll shoot”.

The Sheriff was unarmed

     Lyman, unarmed, said “I do not think you would shoot” and started toward him.  Then, “like a mildewed ear blasting his wholesome brother”, the desperado pulled the trigger.  Lyman threw up his hands saying, “Oh, Lord he has killed me!” and fell on the sidewalk in front of “Uncle Billy” Lewis’ grocery store, which is now Dr. Danner’s office and the Morgan Café.  The Lewis home was just back of the grocery store and “Uncle Billy’s” daughter Cora, 13 years old was with him in the store at the time.  He told her to go get someone to help bring a mattress from home to lay the wounded man on.  The Lyman and Lewis families were very close friends and Cora was so stunned that she could only stand in shocked grief until her brother Ed said, “Cora, quit crying and go help get the mattress”.  Drs. Gibbon, Stutsman and Heed were called but there was little they could do.

     The gunman started to run, making for the alley where a farmer’s horse was tied.  Although two men were in hot pursuit, he managed to cut the horse loose, mount and pointing his gun at the nearest one, wheeled and broke for Baker’s Grove about half a mile east of town.  Reaching the fence, he jumped and was soon lost in the timber and underbrush.  The news spread fast, the town was wild with rage and grief.  Men who had weapons and those who had horses, joined the hunt and two or three hundred flooded in on foot.

Thief is caught

     The Shooting had taken place about 11:30 a.m.  By 4 o’clock a loosely flung search was on and continued fruitlessly for three or four hours.  Then somebody began to organize with look-outs stationed and picket lines formed.  Mr. Copeland, the banker, was the first to spy the fugitive and while he started to get help and direct procedure, two youths, Thomas Martin and Solomon Dawson, also came upon him – neither seeing the other until they were within five or six feet of each other.  The villain was coming at them in a stooping posture, his revolver pointed at Martin whom he was warning in a coarse whisper to “keep still”.  Martin made for him.  He fired and missed.  Martin struck him over the head with his gun, stunned him, sprang upon him and in another minute they had him tied up and were on their way to town.  He escaped lynching in the woods only because someone brought a request from Sheriff Lyman that he wanted to see his murderer.

     When they reached town there was an almost frenzied mob.  The culprit looked around, saw the afore-mentioned Ed Lewis, teenage son of “Uncle Billy” the grocer and pointing him out said:  “I almost sent another one along too.  I had a bead on you but you turned the other way.  If you had turned the opposite, you would have to the other bullet.”

Identification

     The day was suffocatingly hot and it was not advisable to try to move the wounded man from the living room floor of the Lewis home.  The gunman was brought before the Sheriff who recognized and identified him.  He confessed that he had fired the fatal shot and said he was sorry and asked forgiveness, which was granted without hesitation.  His captors then asked, “What shall we do with him?”  Lillie Lyman, who was lying by her father’s side on the mattress, distraught in grief, cried out “Shoot him like a dog” but the Sheriff said, “No!  Let the law take its course.”

Lyman carried home

     After the identification, late in the afternoon, Lyman was carried home where his wife had given birth to a baby that morning.  In an old scrap book loaned to this writer by Dean Boozell, there is an account from a Chariton newspaper, stating that John Culbertson who, during his long life had been county clerk for six years and cashier of the State Savings Bank for 35 years, helped carry Sheriff Lyman home.

Hang him!  Hang him!

     As the news of the tragedy spread farther into the country round about, the Vigilantes began drifting in – also known as the “anti-horse thief society”.  They were possessed of great coolness and determination.  They mingled with the crowd.  Wilson’s captors led him back to the courthouse, which stood where Turner’s Clothing Store stands today.  Just at the time a man appeared with a new rope and the cry went up.  “Hang him! Hang him!” but the cool heads interfered, counseling respect for the law and a trial by jury.  O. L Palmer, Chariton’s first department store proprietor is said to have protested against hanging.  But there were other heads not so cool who argued that since this man was guilty and everyone knew it, it was foolish to waste time and money to give him a trial to risk the law’s delay and possible escape.  With great difficulty the crowd was held back until the murderer could be whirled into the courthouse and locked up.

“Grandmother Beem”

     Cora Lewis grew up, became Mrs. Willard Beem, and mother of Edwin, now in Florida, Anna Beem, Esther Beem Stever, both of Fairfield and the late Lewis and Maggie Beem.  The memory of that awful night was indelibly graven in the mind of Cora, who told and re-told it to her children and grandchildren.  She and her mother sat on their front porch during that turbulent evening listening to the milling crowd as their votes and movements rose and fell in crescendo and diminuendo – in anger and impatience.  She always said it sounded like wind, murmuring, threatening, then muffled, ominous and menacing.

Church bells toll

     At 10:30 the church bells began tolling for the departed Sheriff.  The anger of the crowd then mounted to its zenith.  During the evening the vigilantes had been arriving in greater numbers.  At the tolling of the bells, the captain demanded that the prisoner be delivered to them.  The officers refused.  Shortly, two heavy timbers were thrust against the cell door and the prisoner was dragged out.  From that moment, his “life was not worth a pin’ fee”.  He was asked if he had anything to say.  His reply “Gentlemen, I want you all to forgive me.  I am a poor boy, my mother died when I was small.  This is the first time I have ever committed a crime.  I was in liquor” this last statement was false.  He was hanged from the second story of the old log courthouse.  “sent to his account with all his imperfections on his head.”

Stillness

     The tumult had reached a high crescendo in its final set.  It was a night in which many were anxious to have a part in what they considered justice meted out by suddenly a rumor floated in that a posse of Wilson’s relatives and friends was on its way, bent on Revenge. The rumor was false, but, said Grandmother Beem, “Almost instantly, almost magically and unbelievably, a deathly stillness settled over the town.  The night had no movement, no voice.  Those who had participated seemed to vanish”.  The town “clammed up” and to this day not one name of a participant has ever been revealed.  No one ever came to claim the body, which had been buried as the father of the murderer was advised of the events but nothing was ever heard from him.

Children remember

     Boyd Schotte, in conversation with this writer said “all this happened before I was born but I was told about it by my elders and was shown the rope burn on the window sill of the courthouse and the old hat worn by the villain.  It was kept there in the old courthouse for many years.  I also remember Thomas Martin and Solomon Dawson who caught him.”

     These are grim reminders that make a deep impression on the minds of children.  It was still longer before the children and grandchildren of Mr. and Mrs.. Willard Beem but these are the examples of how the worst tragedy that ever took place in Chariton was passed down from parents to children during the century that followed.

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