This is a excerpt from the Winfield Daily Courier for
Friday, October 26 1893,
Clip 8931026a
The day after constable Hugh H. Siverd had been shot and killed.

The Daily Courier
E. P. GREER, Editor
Published every Evening Except Sunday


Soon the cold clods of autumn will fall upon the casket of one of the best men whom it has been the pleasure of Winfield to count amoung her citizens; the grass will spring up; loving friends will plant flowers on the little mound, but Captain Siverd will not soon be forgotten. Such men as Captain Siverd should have their names forever perpetuated by bringing out discusions of his private life in which he did so much good.

He was one of those men with heart as tender as a woman if appealed to for sympathy, yet as strong as a lion when justice had to be done. 'Nobody ever asked him for aid, when he knew that aid was uncessary' For years, winter after winter, Captain Siverd spent half of his time going over and retieving cases of destitution that would come to his ears. Nobody ever trusted a charitable manner to his hands that he did not attend to promptly.

He was warm hearted yet firm win the time came. He was generous, genial, and very companionable. Once a friend, always a friend. A funeral pall hangs over the city so dark we cannot enjoy the light of sunshine. Everybody is imbued with the same feeling -- that of deep sadness. The friend who has gone will return no more, but will reverentially cherish the sacred memory of our honest, true and tried friend Captain H. H. Siverd.


The Winfield Daily Courier, Thursday, October 26, 1893.



"Man in his best estate is altogether vanity." In this hour of sorrow how appropriat e are those words from Holy Writ. A man whom we loved has been taken from us and we scarcely know whether to feel more pity for him or ourselves. Hugh H. Siverd is dead. Like a soldier in battle, with his face to the foe, he died in the performance of his duty. He was a martyr to the cause he loved; and now that he is dead how willing are all good men and women in this his home to give him praise. We cannot contemplate his violent taking off without tears dimming our eyes, and our hearts uttering a wild protest against the injustice of it all—that a man of brilliant mind, in courage as brave as a lion, and in sympathy as tender hearted as a girl. By reason of a brusque way, and impulsive disposition, men would sometimes mistake him; but a closer relation would show they were but the rough hull that concealed the good true heart within. If, as were sometimes the case, a short retort was given him, his mellow laugh would ring out, and resentment was at once disarmed.

To a few of the children of men are given the power to hew from the rough block of marble, images so natural they appear to breath; to others ability to trace upon canvas scenes so real that they keep green the memory of the painter for hundreds of years; while to others are given that power of combining harmonies in sweet notes of song that give deathless fame to the singer. but to our dead friend was given another God given gift—that of eloquence. How often when his soul was touched have we heard him talk: How the words would flow from his lips, forming themselves into forcible and beautiful sentences as the subtle brain gave them direction. Sometimes like the mountain stream flowing gently along a level, and then dashing down a deep decline, making us feel how small and pitiful we were. Under other and more favorable conditions this gift would have brought him power and fame. How he hated sneaks, shams, and hypocrites. By reason of his business he became acquainted with the secret skeleton in many a prison closet and today they breathe easier because his lips are silent in death. But it can be truly said of him he never used his power to destroy but to build up. No man in this community was known as well. In the home of the poor, of the sick and distressed, there you would find our friends. The night might be dark and stormy, but the thought of his comfort never interefered with what he believed to be his duty. While a man of church and various other societies, yet their narrow visions never controlled his movements. In many a home the unseen tear is being shed by those who best knew and loved him. But he has gone from amongst us forever. His memory shall be our benediction and we can truly say in conclusion, our city was his field of work and to do good was his religion.


The Winfield Daily Courier, Thursday, October 26, 1893.


All members of Winfield Lodge No. 58, A. F. & A. M., will meet at the Masonic Hall tomorrow at 1 o’clock, p.m., sharp, for the purpose of paying our last tribute of respect to our departed Bro. Hugh H. Siverd, and to attend his funeral. B. F. SADIL, Secretary.

Notice A. O. U. W.

All members of the lodge are requested to meet at the lodge room at 1 o’clock, to attend the funeral of Bro. H. H. Siverd, which will take place from the Baptist church at 2 o’clock tomorrow, October 27th, 1893. J. C. MILLER, M. W., O. A. HOTT, Rec.

The Winfield Daily Courier, Thursday, October 26, 1893.

Pickings and Kickings.

The sheriffs election proclamation appears in this issue.

The sad death of Judge Gans will be found on the fourth page.

The jail in which was confined the murderers of Capt. Siverd was surrounded by hundreds of excited people all last night.

The joints were closed today as the excitement over the murder of Constable Siverd is running high and violence is feared.

[Other items under this column were skipped by me. MAW]


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