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Jun. 16th, 2021 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariDon't mess with Mrs. Hay. From the Galveston Daily News, September 24th, 1888:
STRUGGLE TO THE DEATH
FIGHT BETWEEN MRS. LIZZIE HAY
And a Murderous Villain on a Ranch West of San Antonio
He Attacks Her With a Knife and She Kills Him With a Needle Gun
SAN ANTONIO, Tex., September 23. - Mrs. Lizzie Hay, formerly Miss Lizzie Gibbons, is the heroine of southwest Texas to-day. In a hand to hand combat, in which she was twice wounded with a dagger, she killed the "Lone Highwayman," who for the past two years has infested the mountainous neighborhood of Kerr, Bandera and Uvalde counties, successfully robbing stage coaches single-handed, so bold is his demeanor and so expert is he at fingering shooting irons.
Only a few months ago the "Lone Highwayman" stopped a stage coach on the Bandera road, ordered the driver to give up his Winchester, and then with astonishing complacency rifled the mail bags and robbed every passenger aboard, no meeting with the slightest resistance from any of the half dozen commercial travelers.
It remained for the brave Mrs. Hay, however, to end his career with a bullet from a needle gun after having been twice slashed with a keen-bladed knife by the murderous robber, who entered her home on the head prong of the Rio Sabine, in Medina county, last Monday morning. The scene of the occurrence is so remote from railroads that the news did not reach San Antonio until to-day, when
MRS. HAY CAME TO TOWN
with a party of friends. She was visited by your correspondent, to who she related the story with much zest.
The lady is not more than 20 years of age, with auburn hair and a skin of satin smoothness. She was born on the frontier and literally raised on the back of a Mexican mustang. Her father kept a hotel at Castroville, thirty miles west of here, and in early life Lizzie had a good opportunity to meet the "bad man with a gun." When a child she was as lithe as a panther and could rope a steer with as much ease as any cowboy in that county.
Even now, beside keeping house and attending the needs of her two little children, Mrs. Hay finds plenty of time to help her husband brand cattle in the fall and spring round-up. Four years ago, Lizzie Gibbons was married to Mr. George Hay and since that time, they have led a happy and prosperous life in the isolated district of Bandera, being little annoyed by visiting neighbors.
On last Monday Mr. Hay had gone off to the canyon, and there was no one at home save his wife and two little children. Below is given an
ACCOUNT OF THE KILLING
in the exact words of Mrs. Hay.
"On last Monday about 10 o'clock a.m., I was sitting on the floor in my room working on a mattress, when suddenly a man appeared on the front gallery with a red handkerchief tied around his head and a piece of black cloth fitted over his face and tied under his chin, around his nexk. He wore a hickory short, jeans pants and an old badly worn-out pair of shoes. His hands were badly sunburned, and I would judge him to be about 25 years old. He was a medium-sized man. I said to him:
"What do you want here?"
He answered: 'It is none of your d--d business."
I then said: "Get off that gallery, or I'll kill you."
He laughed and said: "You're a plucky woman, but I'll have what I want in this house or burn it down over your head."
By this time I had a needle-gun in my hands and he had entered the house. I threw the gun on him, the muzzle of which was within eighteen inches of his heart, and, fortunately for him, but unfortunately for me, the gun snapped.
He said: "Now, d--n you, I'll kill you."
He had in his hand a long keen-bladed knife. He struck and my throat with the knife, but I knocked it to one side and it
STRUCK MY SHOULDER
not, however, doing any damage. He then struck at me again, but I knocked his hand so that the point of the knife struck my forehead, making an ugly wound, from which the blood flowed copiously. I then sprang backwards, change the ends of the gun, and struck him on the side of the head felling him to his knees. Before he could recover his feet I reversed the ends of the gun again and pulled down on him. This time the gun fired, the ball taking effect in his breast high up on the left side.
The man uttered the most unearthly yell I ever heard, and rolled rather than crawled out on to the gallery posts, and drew himself up on his feet. Having thus gained so much advantage I felt assures that I would be able to finish the cowardly fiend, but on reaching for another cartridge I found they had been misplaced, and being to a great extent blinded by the blood flowing down my face, I failed to get a second cartridge until he had made his way out and the dogs had attacked him. He had managed to get loose from them after leaving a good portion of one of his pants, and then
MADE FOR HIS HORSE.
As he was trying to get on his horse, I wiped the blood from my face with my apron and fired a second shot at the retreating villain, but I think I missed him. As well as I could see, he was riding a small horse, and his saddle appeared to be a very good one. I was alone with my two little children, my husband and brother being down in the canyon, and did not return until after dark early next morning.
A squad of rangers started in pursuit of the villain. He was easily traced by the bloodhounds into the mountains. After searching for some time they found his dead body about two miles from my house. His name is unknown."
The citizens of Bandera county, and particularly the stage drivers and traveling men, breathe easier now that the lone robber is dead.
STRUGGLE TO THE DEATH
FIGHT BETWEEN MRS. LIZZIE HAY
And a Murderous Villain on a Ranch West of San Antonio
He Attacks Her With a Knife and She Kills Him With a Needle Gun
SAN ANTONIO, Tex., September 23. - Mrs. Lizzie Hay, formerly Miss Lizzie Gibbons, is the heroine of southwest Texas to-day. In a hand to hand combat, in which she was twice wounded with a dagger, she killed the "Lone Highwayman," who for the past two years has infested the mountainous neighborhood of Kerr, Bandera and Uvalde counties, successfully robbing stage coaches single-handed, so bold is his demeanor and so expert is he at fingering shooting irons.
Only a few months ago the "Lone Highwayman" stopped a stage coach on the Bandera road, ordered the driver to give up his Winchester, and then with astonishing complacency rifled the mail bags and robbed every passenger aboard, no meeting with the slightest resistance from any of the half dozen commercial travelers.
It remained for the brave Mrs. Hay, however, to end his career with a bullet from a needle gun after having been twice slashed with a keen-bladed knife by the murderous robber, who entered her home on the head prong of the Rio Sabine, in Medina county, last Monday morning. The scene of the occurrence is so remote from railroads that the news did not reach San Antonio until to-day, when
MRS. HAY CAME TO TOWN
with a party of friends. She was visited by your correspondent, to who she related the story with much zest.
The lady is not more than 20 years of age, with auburn hair and a skin of satin smoothness. She was born on the frontier and literally raised on the back of a Mexican mustang. Her father kept a hotel at Castroville, thirty miles west of here, and in early life Lizzie had a good opportunity to meet the "bad man with a gun." When a child she was as lithe as a panther and could rope a steer with as much ease as any cowboy in that county.
Even now, beside keeping house and attending the needs of her two little children, Mrs. Hay finds plenty of time to help her husband brand cattle in the fall and spring round-up. Four years ago, Lizzie Gibbons was married to Mr. George Hay and since that time, they have led a happy and prosperous life in the isolated district of Bandera, being little annoyed by visiting neighbors.
On last Monday Mr. Hay had gone off to the canyon, and there was no one at home save his wife and two little children. Below is given an
ACCOUNT OF THE KILLING
in the exact words of Mrs. Hay.
"On last Monday about 10 o'clock a.m., I was sitting on the floor in my room working on a mattress, when suddenly a man appeared on the front gallery with a red handkerchief tied around his head and a piece of black cloth fitted over his face and tied under his chin, around his nexk. He wore a hickory short, jeans pants and an old badly worn-out pair of shoes. His hands were badly sunburned, and I would judge him to be about 25 years old. He was a medium-sized man. I said to him:
"What do you want here?"
He answered: 'It is none of your d--d business."
I then said: "Get off that gallery, or I'll kill you."
He laughed and said: "You're a plucky woman, but I'll have what I want in this house or burn it down over your head."
By this time I had a needle-gun in my hands and he had entered the house. I threw the gun on him, the muzzle of which was within eighteen inches of his heart, and, fortunately for him, but unfortunately for me, the gun snapped.
He said: "Now, d--n you, I'll kill you."
He had in his hand a long keen-bladed knife. He struck and my throat with the knife, but I knocked it to one side and it
STRUCK MY SHOULDER
not, however, doing any damage. He then struck at me again, but I knocked his hand so that the point of the knife struck my forehead, making an ugly wound, from which the blood flowed copiously. I then sprang backwards, change the ends of the gun, and struck him on the side of the head felling him to his knees. Before he could recover his feet I reversed the ends of the gun again and pulled down on him. This time the gun fired, the ball taking effect in his breast high up on the left side.
The man uttered the most unearthly yell I ever heard, and rolled rather than crawled out on to the gallery posts, and drew himself up on his feet. Having thus gained so much advantage I felt assures that I would be able to finish the cowardly fiend, but on reaching for another cartridge I found they had been misplaced, and being to a great extent blinded by the blood flowing down my face, I failed to get a second cartridge until he had made his way out and the dogs had attacked him. He had managed to get loose from them after leaving a good portion of one of his pants, and then
MADE FOR HIS HORSE.
As he was trying to get on his horse, I wiped the blood from my face with my apron and fired a second shot at the retreating villain, but I think I missed him. As well as I could see, he was riding a small horse, and his saddle appeared to be a very good one. I was alone with my two little children, my husband and brother being down in the canyon, and did not return until after dark early next morning.
A squad of rangers started in pursuit of the villain. He was easily traced by the bloodhounds into the mountains. After searching for some time they found his dead body about two miles from my house. His name is unknown."
The citizens of Bandera county, and particularly the stage drivers and traveling men, breathe easier now that the lone robber is dead.
