Of all the historical research I have done, and of all the blogs and books that I have written, I don't think one has ever affected me like the subject matter of this one.
As I was transcribing this article from the newspaper, for the first time ever I felt like I was telling the story through the eyes of the perpetrator. And his story is very sad and unfortunate.
On June 21, 1884 Floyd Williams of Wolfe County, Kentucky shot and killed Payton "Pate" Stricklin.
For this crime, Floyd was sentenced to hang. Here is the newspaper report, diligently transcribed here:
"Floyd Williams Will Be Hung By The Neck Until Dead"
On Friday, July 3d for the Murder of W. Peyton Stricklin
on the 21st Day of June, 1884
The trial of Floyd Williams, for the murder of Peyton Stricklin on the 21st of last June, occupied most of the term of the Wolfe circuit court last week, the case being called on Wednesday and concluded on Saturday morning with a verdict of guilty. The evidence of guilt, though only circumstantial, was very strong.
Williams, who was in the employ of Stricklin, the evening before attended a shooting match at the blacksmith shop of George Miller, and while there had some words with Stricklin in regard to a settlement. Mr Miller acted as adjuster of the claim and the trouble was apparently settled, the understanding being that Williams owed Stricklin one and a half days work. After the shooting match had ended Stricklin went off, and Williams lingered about the shop some time. While there he took a rifle gun, the property of Robt Lindon, who had left it with Miller to be repaired, and with which Williams had been shooting during the afternoon, and removed it to a corner of the shop. The act excited no suspicion at the time, but the next morning, when the report went out that Stricklin had been shot from the bushes while plowing in his corn field, the people in the neighborhood turned out to find the murderer. Geo Miller, upon going to his shop, missed the gun,j and remembering that he had seen Williams remove it the evening before, at once suspected him of the theft of it.
Judge George Carson had been attracted to the house of the murdered man by the report of his death, and taking Emory James and Geo Miller, they went to where Stricklin had fell, looking for a clue to the murder. They found the bresh broken at a fence near by, where the murderer had concealed himself in wait for his victim, and looking about, discovered tracks. They followed these tracks, faint at first, until they were finally rewarded by finding a perfect impression of both shoes, upon which were patches. They pursued the trail, which led to the house of Williams mother, and thence to Stricklins. There they found several persons gathered together, among them Floyd Williams. Judge Carson stepped into the kitchen, where Williams was talking with the deceased man's wife, and remarked, "That was a bad affair Floyd; you and Pate had a quarrel yesterday evening."" Yes," Williams replied, "but it didn't amount to anything." Judge Carson replied "I think it amounted to a good deal; Pates killed." "Yes and I expect they will accuse me of it but all I want is a fair trial," replied Williams. Judge Carson had, in the meantime, looked at Williams' shoes, and discovered that they were patched to correspond with the tracks he had traced and measured. He therefore placed him (Williams) under arrest and started for Hazel Green.
Geo Miller, in whose custody the gun had been, demanded it of Williams, and was told that he knew nothing of it. Bob Lindon, the owner of the gun, and the first one to arrive at the house after the murder, hearing that the gun was missing and what had happened at the shop the evening before, threatened to kill Williams, who, becoming alarmed, told someone to "Tell Bob Lindon if he will jist keep quiet he shall have his gun before twenty-four hours."
Coming to Hazel Green the posse with Williams in charge met his mother, and he and his mother had some conversation. During this conversation, which none of them heard, Floyd was seen to motion with his hand. Two men, Robt Rose and H .C. Nickell, seeing him, concluded to watch his mother, and did so. She went in the direction indicated by her son and appeared to be hunting diligent for something. She started away, hesitated, and again returned to hunt, but finally abandoned the search. Her watchers, however, took up the hunt close to the place where she abandoned it, and were rewarded by finding the gun, shot pouch and powder flask concealed by the side of a log under some leaves. As soon as it was known that the gun had been found, Williams' mother went to them and demanded it, but of course did not get it. Williams subsequently asked one of the guards in charge, "If I should confess and prove threats from Stricklin, what difference would it make?"
The foregoing was about the evidence elicited on his trial, and the jury in accordance with the testimony found him guilty and fixed his punishment at death.
The prosecution was ably represented by Hon Wick Kendall, Col. L.M. Day, Ed. C. Orear, Esqr., and JB White, commonwealth's attorney pro tem. The defense had Judge Lykins, Judge Riddell, and Jos. C. Lykins, Esqr., as representatives, who did all they could to save the prisoners life by lessening the penalty, while the lawyers for the prosecution did their best to hang him.
It was the first prosecution Mr. Orear was ever engaged in, and old lawyers were heard to say that "it was a masterly effort."
Judge Cooper sentenced the prisoner to be hanged on Fridav the 3rd day of July next. He was moved to tears in doing so, and convinced all that, though compelled to do so, it was a duty he reluctantly performed.
It is reported that Stricklin's wife has been indicted for complicity, and the opinion obtains that she is really the guiltier of the two, although the evidence before the jury in no way implicated her. Williams will be the first man ever hung in Wolfe County."
- copied and transcribed from the Hazel Green Herald, Hazel Green, KY, May 6, 1885.
NOTE: Mrs. Stricklin was convicted in July 1885, and was sentenced to 99 years in prison.
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| clipped from the New York Times, July 21, 1885. |
On June 29, 1885, Williams was granted a reprieve by the Governor, respiting him until Friday, September 4, 1885.
On Wednesday, September 2, 1885, the Hazel Green Herald in Hazel Green, KY published Williams' death warrant. I've included that article here.
On Friday, September 4, 1885, Floyd Williams was lead to the gallows. I will once again let the Hazel Green Herald tell the story here:
Floyd Williams was hung at Campton on Friday last for the murder of Pate Stricklin on the 21st day of June 1885. Sheriff Center and his guard arrived from Mt. Sterling just about dusk Thursday evening, bringing the condemned man, who has been in jail at that place since the death sentence was passed upon him. The people, many of whom were on hand to witness the execution next day, rushed to see him while the guard awaited the coming of Jailer Creech. Only a few, however, succeeded in shaking hands with him before the jailer arrived, among them The Herald man, in reply to whose inquiry as to the prisoners health, Floyd replied that he felt as well as he ever did in his life, and he certainly looked the picture of health, while a smile played around his mouth.
After supper we received a message from him, asking us to bring him a copy of his confession. One was taken him, and after reading it carefully he stated that it was correct. He asked for a cigar, and we handed him one, when he intimated that he was ready to be interviewed. We asked him how he felt about the part he was to play in the drama next day, and he replied "Death can come only once to any man; I die tomorrow and another may die next day. The only difference is that one man may die in bed, another be shot, while I shall die upon the gallows." He said he felt as sure that he would pass into another and better world as he did that we were then reclining upon the mattress in the jail; that he had prayed to God as he best knew how, and that while upon his knees, and while Rev. J.R. Deering, of Mt. Sterling, was praying with him in the jail at that place the night before, he had been pardoned of his sins. He looked it. His face shone with gladness. He apparently looked forward to the coming day as one of much joy. He thanked us for The Herald, which we had sent him every week since he was captured at this place last spring. After handing him some more cigars, we remarked that he would perhaps not feel like sleep, and the cigars would help console him. To our surprise, he replied that he would sleep as soundly that night as he ever had. We then, accompanied by Rev. W.L. Stamper withdrew, bidding him a pleasant night's rest. He thanked us and asked us to call again in the morning. He reminded Rev. Mr. Stamper that he wished to be baptized next morning at 9 o'clock. Thus we left him. On Friday morning he ate very heartily of a choice breakfast furnished him by the jailer and spent some time in reading his testament. At about 9:30 o'clock A.M., Rev. W.L. Stamper had him taken to Swift's Camp Creek, and he there baptized him by immersion, while the crowd rendered appropriate vocal music. He was returned to the jail, and just before 1 o'clock the sheriff's guard formed, and he was brought out.
The procession was headed by two guards, then came Sheriff Center, Floyd Williams, and Rev. W.L. Stamper, who were immediately followed by Hon. J.M. Kash and Spencer Cooper of The Herald, then the main body of the sheriff's guard, commanded by Charley Cardwell and Buck Combs of Breathitt, marched in order and kept the immense throng from crowding the procession and the prisoner. When only a few steps from the jail, however, the mother and sister of the prisoner broke through the guard and fell upon his neck, at the same time giving vent to their grief in cries of distress and anguish. For a moment those nearest were paralyzed with surprise, but Sheriff Center quickly seeing the situation, feelingly called to the guard, and the two women were removed. The prisoner then turned partially around and handed a pocketknife through the guard line to someone, with the request that it be given to his father. Again he brought out of his pocket a small purse and a piece of plug tobacco, and handed them to someone. No other incident was noted until he passed into the enclosure which surrounded the gallows, about a quarter of a mile from the jail, when he mounted the steps two at a time leading to the platform upon which he was to make his farewell speech. A few persons whom he had chosen then took position with the sheriff and others on the rear end of the platform, and sung "Jesus Keep me Near the Cross," which he selected, and in the singing of which he joined. The hymn ended, Rev. W.L. Stamper offered up a prayer, and the sheriff immediately afterward informed the prisoner that he might speak to the people. Williams then walked to the corner of the scaffold and made a short speech to the crowd, about 4000 persons, requesting the people to abstain from the use of intoxicating drinks; to let cards and lewd women alone, and quit carrying pistols. He reminded young men present that those were the principal causes of his trouble --of the death he was soon to die-- and begged them to let such things alone. He said he had been forgiven and hoped to meet them in heaven. Asking their prayers, he bade them all farewell, turned and walked to where the sheriff stood, and told him he was ready. That official then began to adjust the noose about the prisoner’s neck, and many looked to see him break down; but in that they were disappointed. He was as composed as though it were his happiest moment in life; not a muscle was seen to move; his countenance did not change. Thus he appeared when the black cap was adjusted and his face was hid from view. The Sheriff wishing him to step upon the trap, he moved up. His arms were then tied and his legs pinioned. All being ready, Sheriff Center at 22 minutes past 1 o'clock, stepped up to the lever, gave on look at the poor, doomed man, and exclaiming in a voice mixed with emotion, "Floyd, you must go; may God receive your soul," pulled the lever. A crash of the falling trap was succeeded by the stillness of death-- all that was mortal of Floyd Williams hung suspended by a seven-eighth cotton rope just below the level of the scaffold, while the people breathed a prayer that his soul had found rest with the God who gave it .
The crowd quickly dispersed, and the physicians present, Drs. J.H. Stamper and A. Congleton, of Campton; Drs. J.B. Taulbee, J.Mason Kash and F.M. Thomas, of Hazel Green; Dr. Moore of Frenchburg, and a Doctor from Stanton, pronounced life extinct at the expiration of 17 minutes. The body was then cut down, and placed in a plain, neat coffin. His neck was broken by the fall. In compliance with the last wish of Williams, the Sheriff delivered his body to his father, Jeptha Williams, who had it buried on Holly on Saturday morning, a few friends being present at the obsequies.
- copied and transcribed from the Hazel Green Herald, Hazel Green, KY, September 9, 1885.
At the very beginning I shared the newspaper article describing the crime and stating the verdict. But there was so much more to the story, at least according to Floyd Williams.
It is not often that you get a genuine, truthful, confession from a perpetrator of a crime. But having read his confession, I honestly believe that he was being very truthful. And I believe that he was very remorseful and sorrowful for his crime. His confession was very heartbreaking to read. It was published as part of the same article as the above one:
Standing as I do, viewing the rapid and solemn approach of death, I feel it to be an imperative duty that I owe to God to make a full confession of the heinous crime I have committed. I realize fully that if any untrue statement wore to be made by me that God would bring me into account for it. I make this confession knowing that Goi will not look upon sin with the least decree of allowance, the shadows of death falling upon me and the eternal rewards after death.
I was born and principally raised in Breathitt County, Ky. I would be 22 years old on the 24th of July next. My opportunities have been limited. I never went to school but three months. My parents did all they could to get me to go to school, church, etc., but all their entreaties were worthless upon me. I attribute my sad condition in a measure to disobedience to parents. Had I taken their advice, instead of being incarcerated in jail, I might have been as free as heaven’s pure atmosphere, or the limpid waters of my own native hills. When I was 9 years of age, family troubles caused me to leave the parental roof, arid go out into this cold-hearted world to do for myself. Unfortunately, being associated with boys of immoral habits, I formed a thirst for strong drink, and this thirst grew upon me until I became a drunkard. But when under the influence of intoxicating liquors I was always harmless, feeling kindly towards all; and if previous troubles existed, when under the spell of intoxication, I always made it a point, if I had done wrong, to make reparation as far as possible. I would say to all young men “Shun the flowing bowl.”
My employment has been principally that of a farmer. When in the employ of anyone, I always did what I could for their interest and satisfaction. In the year 1882 my mother and I, together with two brothers and a sister, moved to Gillmore Creek, Wolfe County, and lived that year upon the farm of Joseph D. Graham. During that time, I was unable to do anything scarcely, inasmuch as my dissipated habits had brought about a trouble that rendered me perfectly useless. In addition to disobedience to parents and drunkenness I formed an attachment for lewd and vile women, which precipitated me into a state that nerved me for the act for which I now languish. Had it not been for association with the lewd and vile, I today would be a free man. The next year, being 1883, my mother moved to Lacy Creek and lived upon the farm of John D. Rose. While there, I met for the first time with Mrs. Stricklin, at her house at a party, and owing to certain overtures from her, she and I became very intimate. This intimacy continued for about 8 months, during which time we were concocting plans by which we might get rid of Stricklin. Her first plan was to poison him, and ratsbane, as she supposed, was secured and put in his coffee, but it did not have the desired effect; so I am of the opinion that the stuff was not ratsbane, or if it was, that she failed to put in enough of it.
She then proposed to make him drunk, and while in a state of intoxication, she would knock him in the head with an ax and then report that I had killed him in self- defense. When she made this proposition, I told her that I would not have anything to do with a thing of that kind, feeling at that time that it would be wrong to take such undue advantage of anyone. After abandoning that plan, he came home one night while I was at his house and found me lying on his bed. He was very drunk, having been to Hazel Green, and rushing upon me, drew his revolver and snapped it twice while pointed at my breast. I then asked him what he meant, and he replied “I mean to kill you.”
Mrs. Stricklin jumped up and pushed me out at the door saying “Leave or he will kill you.” She then said to me, “Where is your revolver?” I told her it was at my mother’s. If I had of had my revolver that night I would have killed him. I went to mother’s that night. After receiving such treatment at his hands, I was still not fully persuaded to kill him. Next day I hired to work for John D. Rose. About a week after that Pate came there and tried to get me to go and work for him. I told him I could not do it, for we could not get along together. He went back home and sent his wife to see me. She asked me to come back and work for “Pate,” as she always called him, adding that she did not want me to go off. At that time, I was talking of leaving. After listening for a time to her flattering words, I went back with her.
I then worked for him long enough to raise 400 bushels of coal. We were to divide the coal equally. This he did not do, for I only got 10 cents worth of cartridges. He proposed that his wife should pay me for the coal in her accustomed way. Against this I entered my solemn protest. We then had another trouble at his house in which he threatened to kill me if I ever came inside his premises.
I left and went back to my mother’s and hired to work for John Rose again. I put up fencing for Mr. Rose, and one day while I was at work, Stricklin came to me and told me that he had done me wrong, and that he wanted me to come back and work for him. I told him that it was useless to talk to me about it, for I was not going to work for him anymore.
He went back home and again sent his wife to see me. I told her that “Pate” and I could not get along together, and if I went back he would kill me or I would kill him, and that I did not want to hurt him. She went back home, and the next evening he came again, and told me that he wanted to give me a chance to make something and would rent me a piece of ground. My reply was:
“Pate, you and I have come very nearly killing each other two or three times, and I fear if I were to go to work for you that one or the other of us would be killed.”
But, after his repeatedly promising that he would do me right, I told him to go on home and I would come that evening and see him. I went according to promise. Pate seemed glad to see me, and he and his wife took me out and showed me the field that he proposed renting me. While out in the field he asked me if I was not afraid of him, and I told him “only in one way,” that was that he would beat me out of something; and then he said if I feared anything of that kind, we would draw writings and let Rev. James Little hold them. We did so. The day I went there I bought a hog from George Miller, and Pate was to furnish me corn to fatten it with, and I was to give him a day’s work for each bushel of corn I got. The hog was fattened according to agreement, and I killed it, but he took the meat and put it in the smokehouse and would not let me have any of it. We then had a few words, when we drew our revolvers, and had it not been for his wife and John Whisman, one or the other of us would have been killed.
I went and cleared off the ground, put it in corn and worked it over the first time, when he claimed that I had not cleared off the ground according to contract, telling me that I should not work any more at it. This was the evening before I killed him. He and I went to George Miller’s blacksmith shop, and there we had another trouble. After the trouble had been settled he started home, and I told him “I would give him the corn to find him out.”
After he returned home his wife came to me while I was at George Miller’s sitting on the yard fence, and told me that Pate was aiming to kill me next morning. I told her I guessed she was mistaken, and she replied that he said hie aimed to kill me if he lived. She then asked me if I was going to kill him, and I said to her, “Yes, I am.” She then said “If you ever aim to do it now is the time, for he aims to kill you.”
I told her to go on back home, and that he would be killed sometime next day. I stayed at George Miller’s until about dark, and then I went down to the blacksmith shop, took the gun out through a crack, and taking it above Mr. Miller’s house, hid it in a fence corner. I slept upstairs at George Miller’s house that night. The next morning, while I was putting on my shoes, the clock struck 5. I went and got the gun and then went up the “Lige Branch,” as it is called, which heads up against the corn field where he was killed. When I got about half way up the branch, fearing that the gun would not fire, I shot it off, the bullet penetrating a small beech tree that stood on the bank of the branch. After firing the gun I found that I did not have any more bullets, and so I studied for quite a while how I should manage. I started back down the branch after debating the matter in my mind for a time. I then stopped, and putting my hand in the right hand pocket of my pants, I found a pistol ball that I had carried for some time. I put the ball in my mouth and chewed it until it was perfectly round, and then loaded my gun again. I then proceeded to the field where he was aiming to work that day and took my position in the corner of the fence and waited until he came up where his plow was. He hitched bis horse and put the line on his hand “clucked” to the horse, and then I fired the fatal shot that sent his soul into eternity, and for which I am to be hung on the 3d day of July. After I shot him I laid in the same place and same position about one half an hour. His wife and little girl were in about ten steps of him when I shot him.
I then started in the direction of my mother’s, and when I reached the branch that I went up, I hid the gun behind a log. After reaching home I stayed there until about 9 o’clock, when I, together with John Rose, John Whisman, and my brother, went over to Stricklin’s house. There met my gaze the man that I had killed, and the feelings that came over me I cannot describe! When I stepped into the house there were 15 or 20 persons in the room, and they all gave me such a look that I was thoroughly convinced that they believed me to be guilty. The reader has doubtless heard it said that “a guilty conscience needs no accuser.” This I know to be true, from experience. Being conscious of the magnitude of the crime I had committed, I believed that the people could read guilt upon my countenance.
Mrs. Stricklin then motioned me to come into the kitchen. This I did. Then she told me to be careful how I talked; and giving me a bottle , she told me to go to Elsberry Little’s and get a quart of brandy. I made a quick trip, and on my return, I was arrested and put under a guard consisting of seven men, Robert Rose, Henry Nickell, Fielden Cox, James Little, Robert Lindon, Henry Stamper, and Leander Brooks.
After we left Sricklin’s we went to George Miller’s shop, and Miller ran out with a large navy pistol cocked on me, and told me to tell where that gun was that I got out of the shop. My reply was that “I know nothing of the gun,” hoping, of course, to get out of the trouble I had gotten into. The guard took the pistol from him and kept him from doing me any harm, for which I take this method of thanking them; but I must say that they did not treat me as a prisoner out to have been treated. They tied me with a rope, put a chain around my leg, and fastened me to a bed-post, as though I was a ferocious animal, and not a human being. This, added to the enormity of the crime that I had committed, made my condition a bad one. But I forgive them all and hope they will never treat another prisoner as they treated me.
I had an examining trial and was held over without bond, whereupon I was taken to the Mt. Sterling jail, where I was penned up for ten long months. The months seemed like years to me, and the mental torture that I had to undergo will take the arithmetic of eternity to tell.
During the ten months prior to my final trial Monteville Hatfield, William F. Caskey and myself concocted a plan by which we removed a solid stone in the wall, making a place sufficiently large, through which we passed out, and scaled the high wall surrounding the jail, and made good, as we supposed, our escape; but Hatfield and myself were recaptured and placed in jail again.
I want to return my thanks to Marshals Day and Punch and Mr. Watson for the kind and benevolent treatment I received at their hands.
I was taken to Campton; had my final trial, and was sentenced to death. I was forced into trial without having two of my most important witnesses present. The sentence was a hard one, but I shall endeavor to bear up under it like a man. It looks hard for one to be cut off so early in life, from all its sweets and pleasures, but be it so. “God does all things well.”
The reader will observe the four downward steps in my short history: first, disobedience to parents; second, bad company; third, drunkenness, and fourth, a fondness for bad women. These, as a general thing, go together, and the result, if not exactly like mine, is always fearful. I trust my sad, and to me unfortunate fate, will be a warning to all young men. If I could but recall the past how different would my course be! But the die is cast and I am only waiting to be pushed off from friends and the associations of other days by a shameful death on the gallows. My father and mother gave me good advice, and they are in no way responsible for my conduct. I had a disposition to do as I pleased, which has brought others, together with myself, to a debauched and wretched end. O! that the innocence of childhood was again mine! When I think of the past, look to the future and see the gallows, and on beyond the of time and space to the Judgement, my heart bleeds within me , and I instinctively recoil, and would - were it possible- pray to be swept off by a decree of annihilation. But this cannot be. I must die, and then stand before the great Judge of the earth. O! my soul, be on thy guard and O! God, hear my prayer! I do not see how I am to meet my doom, notwithstanding I have become hardened by crime, and have in the past cared very little for anything. But let the stoutest heart see danger ahead, especially death, and it will, of necessity, be convulsed and tremble under the apprehension of danger. But I can say in the language of the sacred poet:
Show pity Lord, O! Lord forgive,
Let a repenting rebel live;
Are not Thy mercies large
and free,
May not a sinner trust in
Thee?”
I am not prepared to die: but I know God is a
God of love, and not willing that any should perish but rather all would turn
and live. I mean, God being my helper, to be prepared when the fearful crisis
comes.
Now, as the time of my execution is at
hand, I say to all my friends “Farewell.” Soon this well wrought frame of mine
must sleep in the cold embrace of death, and my spirit fly to other worlds. Oh
God, may it rest in Thy bosom, secure from all the storms and persecutions of
life. Shun as you would a deadly serpent, the past habits of my life, and let
the little mound that shall sit quietly over my sleeping dust be a warning to
you.
To my father, mother, brothers and
sisters: it breaks my heart to say that word that must separate us until the
last loud trump shall sound. – “Farewell.”
God knows I love you and would love to live to enjoy your company, but the inevitable
has come. I am heartily sorry for
bringing this sad disgrace upon you. But
my only hope is in God. Try to live in such a way as that we may meet in a
better world than this. O! If I had died when I was young: then you could have
pointed to the graces of my childhood its worthy of imitation. If, after coming to the years of maturity, I
had died in defense of the right, then you could have pointed to my death with
hearts swelling with gratitude for my heroic valor. If I had died at my post of
duty, doing what I could to make the world better by having lived in it, then
you could have referred, with no small degree of pleasure, to my efforts. But as it is I die all covered with shame and
disgrace, and you can only refer to me as a murderer and having met one of the
most shameful deaths known to the world. But will not God wipe out the dark
spots on my character and “Make me whiter than snow,” and when I die
take me to rest in the lap of Peace? Farewell! FAREWELL!
FLOYD WILLIAMS
- copied and transcribed from the Hazel Green Herald, Hazel Green, KY, September 9, 1885.
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