Their child IDA LENORA BEATY b. 27 may 1874, Summerville, GA, Chattooga County, died 20 Aug 1893, Palo Pinto County, Texas, buried in the New Hope Cemetery.
Notes from newspaper clipping: "She met a violent death by the hands of her rejected lover, ED NALLS, at the age of nineteen." ED NALLS shot JIM BLY at the same time. All three had ridden their horses to church that evening. On their way home, ED first shot JIM, then killed IDA, and then himself.
("The Jealous Lover" is a romantic ballad about the tragic death of IDA BEATY that has survived in manuscript form. It was sung to the music of the violin, mouth organ and guitar; and is an example of indigenous, unsophisticated folk-art in Texas, the latter part of the 19th Century. This ballad was written by the husband of IDA's sister, BERTA.
THE JEALOUS LOVER
1. O'er pleasant valleys quiet unseen
O'er mountain, field and stream;
The moon looked forth from out the clouds
With radiating beams.
The lovers rode upon their steeds.
Light-hearted homeward bound
For sacred songs had died away
Uopn the old camp ground.
2. Sweet solitude now reigned supreme,
And not a sound was heard
Save the wild coyotes and whip-poor-wills
Or distant mocking birds.
Two hearts were light; two souls rejoiced
As on the stilly air
They whispered tender words of love
And breathed a solemn prayer.
3. God heard their prayers tho needles sought
And smiled down on his own;
Methinks he said, "The hour has come
For each I hold a crown."
Oh, could it be or must deny
The future or the past
A life so pure, so blind and sweet
Was all too bright to last.
4. Alas! Alas! no warning came
To check his ride to death.
A rifle flashed, a demon died
Within that human breast.
Beneath the far and distant shade
Three lifeless bodies lay
A raging suitor slew his friend
And stole his life away.
What concentrated bitterness
Now reigns for loved ones blest,
But, Oh, what hatred is forever bound
Within that human breast.
5. Three souls departed from the scene
And, Love, where shall they dwell?
Two ranged their ways in righteousness
One plunged himself in hell.
Oh, God, if such could ever be
This wicked soul forgive,
Blot out the dark and awful crime
And let his spirit live.
6. The father's woe' the sister's wail,
The mother's bitter grief
Was born upon the midnight hour
When God sent sweet relief.
God giveth and he takes away
So let his will be done.
Weep not, for he will comfort thee
And leave thee not alone.
---- Sam A. Butler |
