Source: From an unidentified Newspaper (possibly the "Owensboro Messenger"), May 1910:

HEADLINE: BILL DAVISON, The War Terror of Western Kentucky! (By W. S. Sterrett)

During the rebellion Hancock County was almost entirely cut off from communication with the outside world and many incidents which occurred in this county in those dark days have never reached the press. Therefore they may be interesting to the old soldier as well as those who saw the light since the surrender at Appomattox.

Captain Bill Davison who figured conspicuously in this part of the world as a guerilla chieftain was born in Hawesville, Ky., in the year 1838. He was a son of Dr. Hardin Davison who together with Thomas Withrow and several others assassinated Thos. St. Clair Lowe in the Hawesville jail where he had sought refuge from the hand of an infuriated mob which sought to take Lowes' life because he did not favor the candidacy of Colonel Cicero Maxwell who at that time aspired to the honor of Commonwealth�s Attorney in the Fourth Judicial District of Kentucky.

Dr. [Hardin] Davison, some years after the mob in which he figures so conspicuously desiring to put an end to his own existence and also to take with him to eternity some of his enemies, exploded a tin bomb shell which he carried in a basket under his cloak in the rear of C. B. Duncan's store in Hawesville, now occupied by Mr. S. Rosenblatt where several of his enemies were assembled. The explosion of this bomb, while it tore out the whole side of the brick structure proved fatal to no one except Davison. A few evenings previous to the suicide and attempted murder which occurred in the store as related above, Davison repaired to the Methodist Church where worship was in progress. He afterward confessed that his mission at church was to explode the shell but the presence of his wife in the congregation prevented his murderous intention.

Bill Davison, as he was called, was a brother of N. D. Davison, who was brutally murdered by an Owensboro policeman in 1872. He was also a brother of James Davison who was killed by the accidental discharge of a shotgun in his own hands. In the cemetery on the beautiful hilltop which overlooks the historic little city of Hawesville are four mounds in which sleep Dr. Davison and his three sons: William, James and Nathanial, each of whom met death in a violent manner.

Bill Davison, subject of this sketch went into the Federal Army in 1861 as Captain of a brave command. He prayed to be an active and valuable officer. The faded gray never fronted a braver man. He remained in the Federal ranks until the proclamation of emancipation was issued. He then resigned. He had said before he enlisted in the Federal Army that if he found they were fighting for the freedom of slaves, he would resign his commission and forever be an enemy of the North and to the Negro. And he was as good as his word. He returned to his Kentucky home and mustered a squad of desperate men, who in obedience to his orders, donned the gray jackets and ornamented their waists with heavy dragoon pistols. They were terrors to the Home Guards in blue and the name of Bill Davison fell upon their ears as a terrible death warning.

About the latter part of October 1865, Davison was joined by Captain Isaac Colter of Nelson County, the most desperate man that every sprung a trigger. The record of Jesse James, the bandit king for bloody deeds, is not to be compared with that of Colter. Upon meeting a man in blue or one of the African race, he invariably introduced himself by a shot from his revolver in order to see how gracefully or how awkwardly his victim would fall.

Ten and twenty-five cent pieces in those days were commonly called, "Lincoln Skins". If an unfortunate Negro came in contact with Colter's revolver, he would sever the negro's ears from his head and place them in his pocket book as we do our ten-dollar notes.

In the early part of December of the same year, he murdered a colored boy six miles east of Hawesville and after securing that part of the negro's anatomy he so much coveted he rode into Lewisport accompanied by the famous Bill Davison. They dismounted in front of the most genteel saloon in the place and summoned a colored man to watch their steeds. They entered and called for old Bourbon straight. The bartender supplied them with the desired brand and after indulging freely, Colter asked the bartender if "Lincoln Skins" were legal tender. When answered in the affirmative, he immediately placed the ears of the murdered man upon the counter. They passed quietly from the saloon to the pavement, where the inoffensive man was attending their horses. Colter expressed a desire to remunerate the darkey for his services. The latter declined to accept a compensation whereupon Colter drew a revolver saying, "Take this for your services". A sharp report rang upon the air, and the unfortunate colord man's brains were blown out.

Later in the day the Louisville and Henderson mail packet Morning Star was captured by Davison at Lewisport, Ky, while bound for Louisville. After securing the horses on deck, Colter spied a Federal soldier whom he approached at once and asked if he had a discharge. The soldier replied that he was going home on a furlough. Colter once more drew his bloody revolver saying, "I will give you a genuine discharge," and another victim was added to his long list. After the murder on deck the two desperadoes repaired to the cabin of the steamer where they found six Federal soldiers, whom they ruthlessly murdered and robbed of their overcoats. Colter did not neglect the express and United States mail. The valuables of all the passengers were taken into his custody for safe keeping. He next proceeded to the pilot house, where he relieved Milo Tunstal, the veteran pilot, of a handsome gold watch and charm. When the steamer arrived at Hawesville wharf, the desperadoes abandoned her. As the clatter of their horses hoofs sounded upon the frozen levee the Queen of Night shone out in splendor upon the bosom of the grand old Ohio. The Federal blue overcoats taken from the bodies of the murdered soldiers were discovered by Major Walker Taylor who was in command of a Confederate squad in the town at the time. He immediately formed his little band in line of battle thinking that the approaching horsemen were Federals. Taylor's men were in the act of discharging a deadly fire when they recognized the voice of Captain Bill Davision as he gave his well know command, "Ride up, my hyenas". Soon after the capture of the steamer Morning Star, Colter became infatuated with Mrs. Emma Ferguson, who at that time was visiting relatives in Hancock County. Mrs. Ferguson's husband was an officer on a gun boat in the Federal service. Colter compelled her to marry him notwithstanding the fact that she had no divorce. Beneath the marriage bond, now on file in the Hancock County Clerk's office can be found the following quaint inscription: This license was obtained by force of arms. J. D. Messmore; Deputy Clerk.

A few days after this peculiar marriage, Colter became tired of his wife and sent her to her parents whose abode was in a place unknown to Colter's best friends.

Colter remained in Hancock and surrounding counties until January 1865 and in the absence of Captain Davison whom he feared, he possessed himself of property belonging to Southern sympathizers and continued the use of colored people as targets for his never-erring revolvers. In that month he went to Salt River, not as a defeated candidate goes, but to dip his hand in the gore of some enemies who were there. He was alone. When he reached the eastern portion of Meade County, he was surrounded by a party of home guards. They were too many for him and the desperate Colter took refuge in a barn at which place he was completely riddled with bullets but not until he had killed ten of their number. Colter was a magnificent specimen of manhood being 6 feet and five inches in height and a face as handsome and intelligent as one would wish to see.

Captain Davison was desperately in love with a Miss Giffin of Hartford, Ky. Miss Giffin was a noted belle of her time and it is said was engaged to Captain Davison but his untimely death prevented their marriage. During one of his visits to her, she presented him with a small revolver and a queer brass box in which to carry his percussion caps. He carried this pistol and the little box in all of his escapades and always referred to the box as his "Guiding Star". It was taken from his bosom after his death which was a peculiarly sad one.

In December 1864 he followed ... Lewisport to kill some Home .. by a few chosen men. He went to the guards who had made themselves obnoxious in that town. The courthouse was home guard headquarters and Davison stationed his men about the Public Square to see ... while he sent one of his men to fire the building. He did his work rapidly and well and the courthouse was soon enveloped in flames. The homeguards had been too sharp for Davison however, for not one was to be found and he was disappointed in that he could not get an opportunity to take the lives of a company of men whom he so utterly despised and whom he had gone 20 miles to slay.

In 1863-64, Capt. Davison while reconnoitering near Simpsonville, Ky. with forty-two men, everyone of whom was a hyena, else he could not have remained in Bill Davison's command met a party of seventy-five colored soldiers. In less than forty minutes every colored man had been killed and Davison and his Hyenas, as he termed his men, were speeding over the dark and bloody ground on horses which were the best that it was possible to obtain.

On the same trip he overtook a party of seventeen Negroes near Yelvington, Ky., and again as many dark men fell in front of the deadly fire of the Hyenas.

Aside from Bill Davison's dark deeds, it was a pleasure to call him a friend. In Kentucky, his friends were legion and with him, the word meant more than it does with most men. He could not do enough for his friends and on more than one occasion did he imperil his life for the ones whom he loved to call his friends.

Davison was a handsome man, not tall, but broad shouldered and otherwise splendidly made. His beardless face was smooth as a woman�s and his coal black eyes flashed like those of a panther. His hair was a dark as a raven's wing and drooped over his shoulders. His command was law with his men and his general appearance thrilled one with romance.

Not much more can be said of him until he received his death wound which occurred in February 1865 about twelve miles from Hawesville, while on the road to Nelson County accompanied only by a noted guerilla by the name of McGruder and the celebrated leader of the guerillas: Sue Munday.

These three desperate men were enroute to Nelson Co., Ky. for some purpose not disclosed but it was generally believed that the mission was to take command of a larger force that all of them had ever directed and terrorize the entire State. But if this was their intention they were sadly deprived of deriving any benefit from it for when they had arrived at a point twenty miles south of the Ohio river, the three desperate leaders of all the guerillas were ambushed by a party of fifteen Home Guards in command of Capt. Charles Hale who had been born and brought up in the same town with Davison.

At the first fire from the Union Home Guards who were secreted behind trees in a thick wood, Sue Munday and McGruder put spurs to their horses and deserted their leader who for fifteen minutes in the midst of a steady fire took chance shots at enemies behind trees but without effect. Hale was armed with a heavy .44 caliber repeating Ballard rifle but he knew that to show himself from behind the cover meant certain death so in a manner probably fair in war, but entirely unnatural to any Kentuckian, he reached the muzzle of his rifle around the trunk of a tree and shot Davision through his hip and prepared his gun instantly for another shot. Davison was armed with a pair of Colt revolvers weighing four pounds and a half each, using a .50 caliber ball. He knew that he was severely wounded and that to have any chance of escape he must kill Hale, the leader. He began to press Hale closely, the latter dodging from one tree to another and his men firing continually at Davison. At last Hale saw his opportunity and firing rapidly as he says, "He shot Davidson through the right arm, the ball passing on through his breast and lodging in his back".

Davison's arm dropped harmlessly to his side and taking the bridle in his teeth he turned his galloping steed in the direction of the Ohio river, firing over his left shoulder at his enemies.

Not a man in that half-hour's unmatched fight, save Davison was wounded. He galloped about three miles in the direction above stated, and almost crazed by his suffering he took refuge in a thick clump of bushes in a lonely wood, miles from any habitation and without a ministering hand, or even a glass of water prayed for his enemies to surround and to kill him.

In two days, his cousins, the Misses Newman, having heard he was wounded, found and went to his relief. They were led to his whereabouts by the neighing of his hungry horse. The coming of these two young ladies must have been to the suffering Davision what the dewdrops are to the flowers. He was taken to the home of the Newmans, but wasn't allowed to remain but a few days. The Union Army had fixed a price of $5,000 upon his capture; dead or alive and the county was full of Home Guards who of course were anxious for the reward.

A deserter from the Union Army named Pemberton had erected a rude hut in the midst of the wildest forest in Hancock County. In this he would secrete himself when soldiers were near and he was safe for to find the cabin one must almost walk over it. One dark night soon after Davison was shot a party of Home Guards were in act of surrounding the home of the Newmans to get Davison head. But he was too sharp for them. As badly wounded as he was he ordered a horse and accompanied by some friends set out for the Pemberton cabin and lingered for two weeks when death came.

His good old mother who resided at Council Grove, Kansas, where she moved from Kentucky many years ago to be near her two remaining sons but who died about ten years ago knew that her oldest son was mortally wounded but did not know where he was or who his friends were with him to allay as best they could his suffering.

"Every night after my son was wounded," said the good old lady, "strange parties of men came to my house at all hours to see if he was there or if I knew where he was. Sometimes they would make blood-curdling threats against me and if that failed to make me give them satisfaction, they would enter the house and search it minutely and then one night," continued Mrs. Davison, "about a week after he had been wounded, a coarse unfamiliar voice awakened me. I thought as usual that it was a party of men who wished to kill my son in order to get the price which was placed on his head. I knew that they would burn the house if I did not give them an answer and I invited them in. I was surprised when only one man came in out of the darkness and told me that he had come to get a bed for William to rest on and that I must go with him and I thought at first this it was ruse to get me to divulge the hiding place. But I did not know where he was although I wished to know more earnestly than did his meanest enemy. I gave the man a bed and rode behind him about 8 miles. He was faithful and he took me to my suffering child.

Mrs. Davison was truly a good old lady and it greatly troubled her to hear her son harshly spoken of. She rarely ever spoke of him. She remained at his side in the lonely forest administering to his wants as only a mother can for one week when death in peaceful slumber came to relieve the body that had fought it so long and hard.

Davison's two cousins, the two Misses Newman and several other of his friends, remained with him to the last.

When his death drew near his breathing, which was terrible caused the shattered bones in his breast to grate harshly together until the awful noise could be heard over the cabin. As his death came and his broken bones clashed together, he gnashed ... oaths against the North and the men who had sent him to his long home.

The grave of this strange man was, of course, as much of a secret as his living abode because the Union wanted his head and the soldiers would have been paid as much for his handsome face severed from its body as they would had they captured him alive and placed him safely behind prison doors. But his friends were determined. Nine stalwart sad men among whom were G. N. Buchanan, George Sapp, and H. C. Wilson, all now living, buried him in the darkest part of the night. They sadly bore his remains in a rude box and then interred all that was left of the famous guerilla chieftain in a spot not far from the cabin and as desolate as where Moses sleeps on Nebo's lonely mountain.

Here he was left to rest until two or three decades ago, when his remains were taken to the place of his birth and placed near the graves of his father and his two brothers all of whom died unnatural deaths.

Frieda Patrick Davison
Dean of the Library
University of South Carolina Upstate
800 University Way
Spartanburg, SC 29303