MCLAURIN MASSACRE
by
Linda Kirkpatrick

At night ‘neath the stillness of the towering bluff
You can hear her saddened cry,
As a mist engulfs your body
In a shroud that will mystify.
 
As you walk through the quiet stillness
You can feel her presence there
And now I'll tell you her story
So listen, if you dare.

Shh!  Listen, listen and you will hear.
"Mother, mother," young Maude cried.
"Run, Maude run," says her mother,
"Run south by the mountainside."

John had left them early that morning,
Kate, Maude, Alonzo, and Baby Frank,
And a hired hand, young Allen Lease
All alone on the river bank.

They had worked hard all that morning
Carrying water for washing their clothes,
While high atop the rocky cliff
Danger perched in a menacing pose.

When all of their chores were finished
They took to the garden plot. 
It was a lovely, cool April day
And the sun was not quite hot. 

The savages watched them all morning
As they quietly stalked their prey,
Then they descended down the mountain side
At an hour past midday.

The Indians started to ransack the house,
They pillaged and plundered the place.
They had no mercy in their eyes
Only murder, malice, and disgrace.

Mrs. McLaurin heard the noise from the garden below,
And said "Allen, go check and see,
It sounds like hogs are in the house.
Go chase them out, would you please?"

So Allen knowingly went to the house
But unknowingly went to his death.
He died from the shot of a savage's gun
And cried in his dying breath.

"Run, children run, over the fence!"
Kate cried even though she'd been shot.
She tried to give Maude the baby 
And cried as she weakened somewhat.

Four times more Kate would be shot
As she tried to scale the fence.
She fell to the ground with the babe in her arms
As his body, her blood did drench.

Kate lay there dying, covered with blood,
Maude wanted to ease her pain
And what she did defied all fate
As she ran to the house with disdain.

She left her mother all covered with blood
She ran, as the blood did spread
She ran to the house, where the Indians were
To retrieve a pillow for her mothers head.

The savages saluted her bravery,
They stood awe of her diligent run,
They left, but they would always remember
The girl and the deed she had done.

Maude tenderly placed the pillow
And comforted as best she could
While her mother whispered to her
"Maude run, take the trail through the wood.

Maude hated to leave her mother,
She feared what the Indians had done,
She cried as she stood and looked about,
Then turned South and began to run. 

She ran to the home of the Fisher's,
They were shocked at the story she told.
A posse gathered to trail the Indians,
Before their trail could grow dim and cold. 

John McLaurin rode hard to get home
He had a premonition that all was not well.
John Leakey gave him the sorrowful news,
Then they rode to the massacred hell.

On their arrival they found the carnage
That was revealed from brave Maude's run.
The Indians were gone but left their deeds
To be viewed in the setting sun.

They found Kate's life flickering
A few sighs were all that was left
But she knew that all her children were safe now
And with pain she drew her last breath.

The Indians are gone along with Kate's life
But the story is alive to this day
So listen again, listen once more
And listen to what she must say.

Shh!  You can hear her now.
Hear the words from her dying breath
"Go Maude, Run!" She cries
These many years since her death.

So as you listen to the night birds calling,
And as you listen to the cypress trees sigh
As listen you can hear her voice now,
Saying her last, "Goodbye".

copyright June 1997 by Linda Kirkpatrick