FALL mi¥EE, AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, BY THE AUTHOR OF 'TALES, NATIONAL, REVOLUTIONARY," &c. &c. //^.:'* " Oh for a Lodge in some vast wilderDeM, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumour of oppression and deceit Can never reach me more. My eoul is sick with every day's report Of the world's baseness." SOLD BY ''**— LILLY, WAIT & CO. BOSTON: MARSHALL, BROWN & CO. PROVIDENCE. 1834. FT4 FrvV Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1833, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, within and for the Rhode-Island District. Marsh & Harrison, Printerii. ( .1 PREFACE .. It is with feelings of embarrassment nerer felt on any for ^ >w mer occasion, that the writer of this little volume lays it before A the iHxblic. The tale which forms the principal part of its con- ^ vients has been hitherto treated in such an indecent manner, r^ that this, of itself, was nearly sufficient to terrify any one at the J undertaking ; and it was not until after long and reiterated r^ persuasion, tha-t the author was induced to attempt it. Who ^ first proposed it, is of no consequence : it is sufficient that a very great part of the subscribers and patrons of former works have seconded the request ; and if the volume answers no other purpose except proving the wish to oblige, it will cer- tainly answer an important one. But we confidently hope it may answer other and more useful ones. The History of Fall River, a place which is becoming of so much importance in the manufacturing world, cannot but be acceptable to the public. The anecdotes connected with its revolutionary history are worthy to be preserved. And a fair and candid statement of facts, connected with the late unhappy affair in that quarter, is desirable. As to the trial, it does not treat of things in their proper order, nor cannot : and in the next place, none but what is called legal evidence is admissi- ble ; and lastly — and its greatest objection — it is not fit for any body to read. A narrative, therefore, that would embrace the facts, without any of the odiou* details in the trial, is high- ly necessary, if public curiosity on the subject is lawful : and who shall say that it is not ? There is another way too, in which it is hoped and pre- sumed this work may prove useful : — as a salutary and time- ly warning to young women in the same situation in Hfe, in which the ill fated girl was placed, who is the subject of this narrative. On many accounts it may benefit. That baneful disposition to rove, to keep moving from place to place, which has been the ruin of so many, will her« receive a check. And what is more important still — though an extremely difficiilt 1* VI PREFACE, subject to treat upon so as to be understood — they will be warn- ed, by the fate of one, against that idolatrous regard for min- isters, for preachers of the gospel, which at the present day is a scandal to the cause of Christianity ; which neither honors God or benefits his church ; and certainly is calculated to bring reproach and ridicule on the christian character. To venerate the ambassador of the Most High, and listen to him with respect, while in the sacred discharge of his ministerial duties, is right and proper ; to contribute to his relief in sick- ness and support in health, of our abundance, or our personal exertion, if necessary, is likewise our duty ; but here let us stop, and not make ourselves, and the cause we profess to be engaged in, ridiculous, by such attentions as mortal man ovght never to receive. The absurd custom of crowding round some handsome preacher on every occasion, in order to share hi^ smiles, and be distinguished by his gracious gallantries, has justly excited the ridicule of a large part of the community, and armed every scoffer with weapons against that holy cause, which ought not to suiFer from the faults of its ignorant professors, but which they nevertheless confound together. Besides, ministers are mortal men ; and, with good intentions, sometimes persons of weak minds : and it requires a very strong mind to resist con- tinual flattery. Some of them too are ignorant persons ; peo- ple, who, if they had their proper places in society, would be hewers of wood and drawers of water, rather than teachers. This description of false teachers is very plainly set forth in the Scriptures, as being " ever learning, and never able to come to the knowledge of the truth;" as "creeping into houses, and leading captive silly women," &c. &c. This last description of preachers take care to insinuate themselves in- to every place where they can possibly find entrance. No matter what the reUgious privileges of the people may be they go among : unless they themselves have built up a sect among them, they consider them as destitute of truth and the means of grace. If a neighborhood is furnished with ever so many PREFACE. Vll good, respectable, competent teachers, supported by those who are able to do it, there must be one more added, if there is no other way to support him but out of the hard earnings of the poor. Now the fact is, that a preacher, who cannot be supported without drawing upon the chanty of poor factoiy girls, ought to ^o in and go to work himself. It will be seen too after perusing the history of this unfortu- nate girl, whether a course of spiritual dissipation is favorable to the growth of religion in the soul ; whether a continual round of going to meetings night and day, is in reality recom mending the cause, or likely to recommend the character, or preserve the characters of young women, in an especial man- ner. It is much to be feared it is otherwise. In the first place, this appearance of superior devotedness, this over zeal, fails in no instance to draw all eyes upon her. There is ri- valship in churches it is known, as well as in other communi- ties, and such members are watched with jealous regard , if they go and return protected as they ought to be by one of the other sex, barbarous insinuations will sometimes be made ; if on the contrary they wander about from meeting to meet- ing alone, they are immediately censured. And added to this it is expected that the general deportment of such females should differ from that of others ; that it should present an appearance of stiffness and restraint incompatible with youth, witli cheerfulness and a social temper; hence the slightest deviation from the prescribed forms is censured in such per- sons as a crime ; what would pass in others without remark, is the subject of unqualified abuse in these, and induces a species of persecution, that too often results in loss of charac" ter to the victim. And is this counterbalanced by any inward advantage ? — Does religion thrive most in noise and tumult? Does the heart become better, the imagination purer, the temper more placid ? Can that God, who is worshipped only in spirit and in truth, be only honored in a crowd ? Let every heart de- cide the question. Vlll PREFACE. With respect to embellishment in this book, no person ac- quainted with the facts, who has seen it, pretends to say there is any, except in the first interview between the physician and the unfortunate heroine of the tale ; where it is said the phra- seology is improved without altering the facts. If the error is on the side of delicacy we hope to be pardoned. L ( im;:.;j-'' AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. CHAPTER I. Situated on a rather abrupt elevation of land rising from the northeast side of Mount Hope bay, distant about eighteen miles from Newport, and nine from Bristol, R. I. stands the beautiful and flourishing village of Fall River,so called from the river, which taking its rise about four miles east, runs through the place, and after many a fantastic turn, is hurried to the bay over beds of rocks, where, before the sce'ne was marred by the hand of cultiva- tion and improvement, it formed several beautiful cascades and had a fine and imposing effect. The village is now only picturesque from the variety of delightful landscape by which it is surrounded, the back ground presenting a variety in rural scenery, where neat farms and fertile fields shew them- selves here and there, between hill and dale and rock and wood. The soil, though for the most part fertile, is in some places exceedingly rocky, and often in the midst of such places some little verdant spot shews itself, looking, as Cunningham says, " as tho' it were wrested from the hand of nature." But Fall River is chiefly inviting as a place of residence from the salubrity of its air, and the vi- cinity of Mount Hope bay, which spreads before it like a mirror, and extends easterly until it meets the waters of Taunton river, forming on each side immerous little creeks and coves, which add to the charms of the landscape materially ; while on the southwest it takes a bold sweep, and passing round through Howland's ferry, where it is compressed 10 FALL RIVER, through the narrow channel of a drawbridge, hav- ing the ishmd of Rhode-Island on one hand and the town of Tiverton on the other, again expands and flows on to meet the ocean. Rowland's ferry is not visible from the village of Fall River, though it ig from the bay when at the distance of three or four miles. Vessels do sometimes pass and repass through the drawbridge at Rowland's ft^rry to and from Fall River and Taunton ; but the most usual way of access to the former is through Bristol fer- ry, two miles south of Bristol port. It requires no great effort of imagination to go back a few years, and imagine the Indian with his light canoe sailing about in these waters, or dodging about among the rocks and trees. I'hfe neighborhood of Fall River has been the scene of frequent skirmish- es among the Ficknets, the tribe of King' Philip, and the Pequods and Narragansetts'. Uncas too, with the last of the Mohicans and the best, has set his princely foot upon its strand. Fall River, which in 1812 contained less than one hundred inhabitants, ov/es its growth and im- portance principally, indeed almost wholly, to its manufacturing establishments: which, though not splendid in appearance, are very numerous and employ several thousand persons collected from different parts of the country, as well as many foreigners: the immense fall of water here being now nearly covered by establishments of various kinds. There are at least fortythousand spindles in op- eration, and it is only twenty-one years since the erection of the first cotton manufactory. Previous to this the land in this vicinity belonged principally to the families of Bordon, Bowen, and Durfee ; three families from whom the principal part of the AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 11 stationary inhabitants sprung-. The land now di- vided among the different manufacturing establish- ments is principally held in shares, that is in tJie neighborhood of the establishments. So flourish- ing has business been there, that there is scarce a machanic, trader, or even labourer, who has been there for any length of time, who has not acquir- ed an estate of his own. In 1812 the first cotton manufactory was erected by a company incorpo- rated by the name of the Fall River Company. In the same year, another company was incorpo- rated called the Troy Manufacturing Company, and another factory built. There are nGw,in 1633, thirteen manufactories, viz. two cotton manufac- tories of the Troy Company — Pocasset,one wool- len do. — New Pocasset— Massasoit— 01ne3^*s mill, — Calico works — Fall River Company's mills, three in number — Annawan — Iron Works and Nail Manufactory. The Calico Works alone, which cover a large area of ground, employ nearly three hundred hands ; its state of improvement is not, we believe, exceeded by any establishment of the kind in the country — besides a number of ma- chine shops, &c. which, stuck about on the jutting rocks, many of them, in the very bed of the stream, have a most singular appearance. The fall origi- nally was through a deep black gulf, with high rocky sides. Across this gulf most of the manu- factories are built. There is an appearance of ac- tive industry and a spirit of enterprise, as well as of cheerfulness and contentment, that at once strikes a stranger. It is evident too from the number of houses of worship, schools, &c. that the moral and religious education of the rising generation is not neglected. There are seven houses of worship. Two forCongregationalists, two for Baptists, one 12 Free- Will Baptist, one Unitarian, one Methodist, &LC. There are a number of free-schools here, to- wards which the inhabitants themselves voluntari- ly contribute twenty-five hundred dollars per an- num. The number of inhabitants at the present date, 1833, is said to exceed five thousand. It is to be supposed that among the heterog-eneous mate- rials which form the community in this place, there is a great variety of character, as well as of creeds; occasionally some differences of opinion as well as clashing of interests. Yet for the most part crime has been unknown there. There have indeed been a few suicides, but they were " few and far be- tween ;"and it has'often been a boast among the in- habitants, that living as they do, on the borders of two states (part, and by far the greater part, is in Troy, Mass. the other in Tiverton, R. I.) the laws of either were seldom called in to punish anything except venial transgressions. Fall River too can boast of its prov^ess in battle, of its revolutionary characters in "the times that tried men's souls." For although their humble attempts to resist inva- sion have not yet found a place on the pagesof his- tory, yet certain it is, the tide of war has once roll- ed its threatening waves as far up as to reach the shores of Mount Hope bay. The character for bravery, generosity, and independence of mind manifested at that period seems to have become a part of their inheritance. Among all the changes which the increase of population causes, the pri- mitive virtues of simplicity and hospitality are still eminently conspicuous. Whoever goes to reside there seems to adopt readilythe manners of the in- habitants. Even the labouring part of the commu- nity in the manufactories, as well as in other ds- partments,are positively distinguished by a degree AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 13 of refinement and courtesy of manners, superior in a great degree to what we usually meet with in manufacturing villages.* It is a fact that speaks loudly and deserves to be recorded in letters of gold, that Fall River is the only place known to the writer of these sheets where she ever past a week without hearing one individual speak ill of another: and few persons ever had a greater opportunity, having spoken with more than three hundred peo- ple during that time. We have stated that previous to the commence- ment of its settlement as a manufacturing village, and even as far back as the revolutionary war, the families of Bordon, Bo wen and Durfee, were the principal proprietors of the soil, and brave fellows they were too, some of them. Even the soil around this secluded spot was stained with the contest. At the time Newport was in possession of the Brit- ish, there was an attempt made to destroy their mills at this place, consisting of saw mills, grist mills and a fulling mill. An expedition was fitted out in boats, and came upon them in the night with the intention of firing the village, consisting of a little cluster of houses, about ten in number, and those remote from each other. They were aided by some of the tory refugees, and succeeded in landing on the shore, a little below the long wharf, that now is, where they fired the house of Thomas Bordon. Several little bridges lay between them and the mills, and these were immediatly destroy- ed by the brave little handful of men collected on the spot, except the last, behind which they en- * I shall always recollect with pleasure one little incident, in one of the weav- ing rooms of the manufactory, where the noise was very distracting arising from a vast number of looms going at once. The machinery suddenly stopped, and a strain of music arose simuhaneously from every part of the room, in such perfect concord that I at first thought it a chime of bells. My conductor smiltd when I asked him if it was not, and pointed to the girls, who each kept their sta- tion until they had sung the tune through. 2 14 FALL RIVER, trenched themselves, and commenced firing a ft w yankee sliot, and from behind the house of Rich- ard Borden, at the corner of which one of the ene- my was shot. (The okl fabric is still standing.) The enemy continuing to advance, and become more formidable, they succeeded in levelling two of them ; one was shot dead, supposed by Doc. John Turner, and the other mortally wounded. This rather intimidated the assailants, who made a motion to retreat, but after haulting at a little distance, returned again, and the scuiHe was re- newed — the yankees lighting bravely, with their last powder and ball ; finding their ammunition ail e5ipended,they contrived to make up the defect by management. One of them, Sherman, by name, was mounted on the wall, and instructed to give orders, which he did with a great flourish, telling them to fight on bravely — the day was their own, and they had ammunition enough to last a month. The poor fellows had then the very last in their guns-but they gave a great shout, and discharged that in the face of the foe, who swallowed the bait, and retreated to their boats, carrying with them, however, one prisoner, old Mr. Richard Borden, who had ven- tured too near in the zeal of the moment. Boys fif- teen and sixteen years old, fought in that contest, and women brandished their broomsticks, and tra- dition says only one small boy was frightened, and he ran off and hid in the woods until it was over. One of the tories who had been an inhabitant of Fall River,and guided the enemyto this little nook was named Holland. The business not prospering as he expected, he was glad to retreat with the British, and at the evacuation of Newport went to reside at Halifax, Many years subsequent to this, and after he had become quite an old man, he re- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 15 turned to America, and being anxious to see Fall River, the scene of his treacherous attempts, he visited it under an assumed name. Thomas Bor- den was then an old man, and the stranger made some pretence for calling at his house, but in spite of his disguise and the lapse of years, his eagle eye detected the resemblance, and hastily advancing he demanded to know " if he was not the traitor Holland." The stranger stoutly denied himself to be that character. " If I knew you was," said the old man, clenehing his fist, " I would lay you on that forestick, (pointing to the lire) and roast yon to a cinder." Holland, terrified, fled again from the place and has never been there since. This Richard Borden was a singular character for oddity. He was taken prisoner, I before ob- served, at the memorable contest of the mills, and as they were carrying him off laid down in the boat while they were passing Bristol Ferry, lest some Rhot from his enraged countrymen should reach them. The enemy commanded him to stand up, which he refusing, two men took hold of him and attempted to force him upon his feet, when a chain shot from the shore, mowed them both down at once, and they fell on the body of the prisoner, dead men. The wounded prisoner, meanwhile at Fall River, died the next day, and the two comrades were buried on the spot where they fell, side by side. One Peter Thatcher, who had distinguished him- self on that memorable night, advanced to the grave while this operation was performing, and protesting if their heads were laid together there would be some mischief hatching, commanded them to be laid heads and points. This was ac- cordingly done, and in 1828, when the ground was 16 excavating for the erection of the Mossasoit Fac- tory, the bones of the unfortunate victims of king- ly power, of the poor wretches dragged from their families three thousand miles across the water to engage in a broil of which they probably knew nothing — werediscoveredlayingheadsand point?. " War is a game, that were their subjects wise Kings could not play at." The growth of Fall River from the period of the revolutionof the year 1812, must have been slow, and even since that, until 1822,* when there was butfour stores in the place, of any description, and not to exceed four hundred inhabitants- There is now about 100 shops and stores of vari- ous descriptions — but excepting two or three on the Tiverton side of the village, scarce any where spirituous liquors are retailed, and not a single distillery in the place. The roads north and south of the village, lead through a delightful country. The view of the island of Rhode-Island on the south one is beauti- ful, almost enchanting — while that leading to Taunton is scarcely less picturesque. On this road lies the little village of Assonet, where there is considerable commerce carried on. It is a singu- lar sight to see large vessels coming up to the very doors of the cottages, sheltered and shut in by the little woody point that encloses the tiny harbor — and music to hear the voices and loud laugh of nu- merous little urchins who are frequently seen playing on the hull of some old vessel on the strand. These fairy landscapes on the one hand, are strangely contrasted by the wildness and sterili- ty of that on the east, which resembles a newly settled country. The land lying between Fall ♦ The third manufactory was erected in 1821, and two more in the ensuing year. At this period, 1833, a large and elegant one is going up. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 17 River and New-Bedford, a distance of from sixteen to eighteen miles, is a perfect desert for the most part, being only diversified by bogs, rocky pas- tures and forests of scrub oak and vi^ild poplar. The village of Fall River perhaps owes much of its picturesque appearance to the rocks which are seen rising on all sides, some of the most finished buildings being nearly surrounded by rocks. It almost seems in the law of destiny that every place shall have something in its history to recom- mend it to the attention of mankind. In the countries of Europe, in every part of the old world, scarce a village or hamlet is past, where the attention of the traveller is not called to some circumstance of notoriety connected with the his- tory of the place, either it has been the birthplace of some hero, or statesman, or poetj renowned in ihe annals of the world, or the spot where some bloody battle has been fought that perhaps decided the fate of nations. Here was once the resort of banditti, and here once stood the monastery of some religious fanatics. Here was the cell of an anchorite,and here the home of unbounded luxury and unbridled licentiousness. Those ruins cover the springs once so celebrated in history where the beauty and fashion of centuries long gone by re- sorted for health and pleasure, and drank from the fountains now hidden fathoms under ground. This place witnessed ages since, the vows of those cel- ebrated lovers, and this was the scene of a black iind midnight murder. Here dwelt the witches of yore, and here the sorcerers. Here was lighted the fires of the martyrs, and there, their persecutors breathed their last. Here wept an injured, banish- ed queen, and here a king abdicated his throne. In short, there is no end to the catalogue of events 2* 18 FALL RIVER, by which each place is consecrated in the memo- ry of man. In our happy coimtry,new to crime and unknown to greatness comparatively speaking, there is lit- tle of this kind of distinction known. It is suffi- cient that the thriving city exhibits the appearance of industry and application and enterprise, that the rural landscape teems with sights and sounds of human happiness, that it is clothed with the flowers of spring, the verdure of summer, and the fullness of autumn. The unenvied distinctions conferred by the monuments of former greatness and vengeful crimes, we desire to leave to our old- er neighbors. Yet even in this our new and favor- ed country, crime is sometimes known. The pri- meval curse which extends over the whole earth, has not left our plains and vallies without some demonstrations of its universality. " The blood of man, slain by his brother man, has at intervals stained the soil where peace and purity were wont to dwell, and the cry of murder, borne on the mid- night blast, has sometimes been heard, even in someof the most secluded parts of happy America. The traveller in future ages, as he wends his way through the delightful village we have been de- scribing, shall point to the lowly grave on the side of yonder hill, and say " even here, has the curse been felt — even here, has murder stalked abroad, amidst scenes of nature's loveliness, calculated to warm the coldest heart with gratitude towards that good and glorious Being who clothes the fields in plenty and bids the landscape smile, has the assas- sin lurked, here plotted the direst deed of darkness, here executed a scheme of cruelty which the savages of our western woods might have shrunk from." Here at this lonely grave, whose plain and AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 19 unobtrusive stone just tells the name and age of a female, cut off in the prime of her days — and tells no more — shall the young- and the beautiful read the warning against the wiles of man, here try while recounting the sad story of her who sleeps beneath to fortify each other against the encroach- ments of vice, especially of that which captivates under the mask of love. Here the prudent mother shall bring her lovely daughters to read those les- sons of prudence and caution, which of all other lessons the youthful heart is most apt to revolt at, the youthful mind to forget. And pointing to this place, the drunkard, the swearer, the Sabbath breaker, the gambler, and even the highway rob- ber, shall exclaim, " that grave attests that mon- sters have lived worse than me !" On yonder slope where nature has spread her richest carpet of al- most perpetual verdure, and where the quiet of the scene might seem to speak of sweet repose and heavenly contemplation, a deed of darkness has been perpetrated, at which even such might have revolted. But this is digression, and we hasten on to the story. CHAPTER II. About half a mile from the centre of the village of Fall River, in a southerly direction, on the di- rect road to Rowland's Ferry and rather remote from any other dwelling, there is a large old fash- ioned farm house belonging to a family by the name of Durfee. The land descends from here to- wards the bay with a gentle slope, and is probably about 150 or 200 rods to the water. The house stands in the State of Rhode Island, and near the line that marks the boundaries of the two states. 20 Proceeding from here towards the village you en- ter the suburbs of Fall River. In the State of Massachusetts in about a quarter of a mile dis- tance, within a short distance from this line on the Mass. side is the residence of a physician esteemed in his profession as well as in his private life, of unaffected manners, and unassuming deportment. His appearance is the very epitome of plain old fashioned Republican simplicity ; there is a de- gree of frankness and benevolence expressed in his countenance that at once secures the confi- dence, even of strangers. It was on the evening of the 8th Oct. 1832, that the Doctor was summoned to the parlor to see a lady who desired to speak with him. This circum- stance to a physician was nothing extraordinary, and therefore it was without any feelings of curi- osity or awakened attention that the doctor obey- ed the summons : he perceived a young woman very plainly habited and of most dejected appear- ance : her age he judged might be about 28, and her countenance bespoke the possession of beau- ty in happier days — but it was now clouded with care and shaded with grief, and as she arose to address the doctor upon his entrance, the air of ex- treme dejection that she wore, caught his eye, and in a moment interested him in behalf of the un- known sufferer. He begged her to be seated: while drawing a chair opposite, he endeavoured to pe- netrate so deep a grief and ascertain the cause of this visit. " She had come she said to consult him on the subject of her health. She had not been well for some time, and washed to ascertain with certainty the nature of her disease." The doctor desired her to mention her symp- toms. She did so. Not havinfr the slightest recol- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 21 lection of seeing Iier before, he inquired, was she a stranger here ? "Not exactly ; she had been em- ployed to weave in one of the cotton manufacto- ries for some time past." " Her work probably disagreed with her : had she been used to such em- ployment ?" Yes, for several years. " Would she be so good as to state her symptoms o«ce more ?" she did so, with a faltering voice, and changing cheek. The doctor rose, took a turn or two across the room, and again seating himself opposite, ask- ed the question, "Are you married, madam ?" " No sir," said the young woman faintly. A long pause ensued. " If you were a married woman I should be apt to tell you what I thought, but as it is I scarcely know what to say, except it is my opinion you will not be able to work in the factory much longer." The miserable young woman clasped her hands together and wept profusely. ",Can you speak with certainty, sir, as respects my case ?" " I cannot, said the doctor, nor no oth- er person with certainty. I only give my opinion, grounded upon the facts you have stated with re- spect to your ill health, and I may add your too evident distress bespeaks you to have been the prey of a villain ; but has not the person who has thus entailed misfortune upon you, the power to take you from the hardships of a factory and place you in a comfortable situation, until you can again resume your employment with safely to yourself?" " I am afraid he would not be willing to do so." " Not be willing ! then he must be a very base man. It certainly is in his place to do so. Who is he ?" no answer but tears. " Can you not tell me his name ?" " I cannot, I dare not," said she at last, burst- ing into a fresh flood of tears. 22 " Have you no connexions in tliis place young woman f ' demanded the doctor. " None, sir, except religious connexions." " Then you are a member of some religious so- €iety — of which ?" " Of the Methodist, sir." " Well your case is certainly a very peculiar and a very distressing one, but I can see no reason why you cannot tell who this person is — this man who has led you into this trouble — there seems to be some great mystery about it, which I am desi- rous of unravelling. Perhaps I can advise you to some safe course, and if I am to be your physician I insist upon knowing before I give you any fur- ther advice, and if it is in my power to befriend you in any way I should certainly do so. It was not until many apparent struggles with herself, much persuasion, solemn injunctions to secresy, and finally a promise on the part of the doctor not to expose the name, that she at length reluctantly disclosed it ; and great was the doctor's astonish- ment indeed when she named a preacher of the gospel as her betrayer — a Methodist minister !" "Monstrous!" said the appalled physician, "and does he preach now ?" " Yes sir, in Bristol, next town to this." " But how, where, which way, could a minister of the gospel contrive to insult one of his flock ? Where young woman, I must ask, has your inter- views taken place ?" "Our interview', sir, was at the late Camp Meet- ing in Thompson, Ct. It was unsought by me for any such purpose, but I trusted myself with him in a lonely place, and he acted a treacherous part." "Amazing," exclaimed the doctor, "under the mask of religion too ! well young woman it is use- AN AUTHE^TIC NARKATIVE. 23 less to mourn over what is past and cannot now be mended. Your business must now be to take care of yourself — and there is as I conceive one straight forward course for you to pursue. Such a man deserves to be exposed. It is a duty you owe not only to yourself but to the public to expose the man. It is outrageous that such a man should continue to deceive the public. I would therefore if I were you boldly go forward and expose him to the world, and compel him by law to do me jus- tice. You would certainly be doing society a service to unmask such a person." " Oh I cannot, I cannot sir, indeed," said the young woman, with a shudder. " 1 cannot consent to bring such disgrace and trouble upon the church and upon his innocent family too. He has a wor- thy woman for a wife, and she and all his innocent children must be disgraced if he is exposed." " Well, I know not what to advise you, young woman, if you are averse to this course. There is but one other way to obtain redress — and that is by threatening him. You must at all events be provided for before long, and the best way is in case you do not expose him, to threaten to do so unless he settles handsomely with you, and ena- bles you to leave the factory until after the termi- nation of this unhappy affair. To this the young woman assented, and saying she would call again, after writing to him, withdrew." The image of this afflicted and unhappy person could not momently be erased from the mind of the doctor. The circumstance of itself was calcu- lated to interest, and the sufferer, though not very handsome, was certainly a very interesting per- son. It was not long though before she called again, and the subject of her second communication 24 FALL RlVERj was certainly not less interesting than the first. She came now she said to ask advice as a friend. She had recently received a letter from Mr Avery requesting her to come to Bristol and sec him there — that he had appointed a time and place, and seemed anxious for the interview. She stated also, she had received another letter from Provi- dence, during the four days meeting. The doctor again advised her to compel Avery to a settlement, and she asked what she had better say to him. He observed that she ought at leaslt to demand three hundred dollars and he had no doubt Avery would think himself wtll off to come off so. " Why," said she, "he is not able to give such a sum ; the Methodist ministers are poor — all poor. They are very iJly paid for their services, and I doubt his power to make up such a sum, besides I should not dare to name so much for fear he would think I had told some one." And she seemed to be in considerable terror at the idea that he should suspect he had been exposed to any one. She then informed the doctor that she had a short interview with him at Fall River, where she met him on the meeting-house steps, and walked away with him, and that he wished her to take a medicine that he recommended, in order to prevent future trouble and expense, and at once obliterate the effects of their connexion. The doctorinquired whatit was, and was shocked and surprised to learn it was one of such deadly effect that she would probably have expired on the spot had she taken it. The drug referedto was the oil of tansy, one of the most vio- lent things ever used, and never given except in very small quantities, and under the direction of a physician. Comprehending as he now thought a little of the plot, he advised her against a private AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 25 interview with Avery, and begged her by no means to go to Bristol and give him the private interview he requested, nor to take any medicine of his pre- scription, telling her the one recommended would probably have killed her on the spot, if not, it would have utterly destroyed her health forever.* The girl seemed shocked, but could not seem to believe her betrayer had designs on her life. The doctor observed if she meant to do any thing of thatsort she must apply to another physician. She however avowed her determination to take no- thing,but bear as she said, the whole shame and dis- grace of it herself, " and take care of her child as well as she was able." The doctor commended her in this resolution, and told her it was his duty to come to her, not hers to go to him, and to have him by all means come to Fall River, and meet him in some suitable place, where they could talk it over and make some settlement with him, that was in case she had still resolved not to expose him publicly. This she seemed resolved not to do, and spake again of the distress such a disclosure would bring upon his family, and mentioned the agitation the first disclosure of her situation had caused him. He protested to her afterwards that he passed the " most wretched night that night he had ever done, having scarcely closed his eyes.^^ Much more conversation occurred of the same de- scription, accompanied by many tears, which the doctor observed she always shed when conversing on that subject ; and thanking him for his kindness she withdrew, leaving an impression of pity and admiration upon the mind of the good physician, I that one so feelingly alive to sentiments of virtue s/ * Thirty drops, she said he told her to take at once , Four drops is considered a large dose. 26 FALL RIVER, and propriety should have fallen into such a snare. She had, between these interviews mentioned, call- ed for medicine to take, such as her health requir- ed, and the doctor observed he never saw her with- out shedding tears and betraying most painful feel- ings with respect to her situation, although she was calm, and seemed to have resigned herself to the event. A few weeks only elapsed since the last visit of Miss Cornell,during which the doctor often thought of her, and wondered how she was likely to settle the difficulty wdth her seducer as he termed him, for so perfectly modest and proper was her deport- ment that he could on no account harbor an opin- ion, but that she had been artfully led from the paths of virtue, by one in whom it was perfectly natural she should place the utmost confidence. He looked upon her as one of the most unfortunate of women, but could not despise her as he might have done in other circumstances. It was on a cold frosty morning, the 21st Dec. that the doctor observed some people running up the street, apparently in great haste ; he stood at the window watching when they should return, to know what the matter was ; but no body came back, while another and another party followed close upon the heels of the former. The women appeared to be horror struck as they collected in groups at the doors or in the streets, and many leaving their families just as they were, (it was about breakfast time) and hastily throwing some- thing over them pushed on in the direction of Dur- fee's farm. Presently some one came running into the doctor's saying a young women had just hung herself up at Durfee's. The doctor stopped to ask no more, biit catching his hat, ran up to the farm,, AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 27 without however having the least suspicion who it was. Upon gaining a stack yard some fifty rods south of the house, he perceived a female lying on the ground, for they had taken her down. She lay with her cloak, gloves and calash on, and her arms drawn under her cloak. " Does any one know her ?" asked one. " She is well dressed," said another, '* I think she must be somebody respectable." *' Yes I know her," said the Methodist minister who had arrived on the grr>imd a little previous to the doctor — " she is a respectable young woman, and a member of my church." Just then the physician reached the yard, and hastily lifting the profusion of dark locks that had fallen entirely over her face, he discovered with grief and astonishment the countenance of his late interesting patient. Horror struck, he endeavored to loosen the cord from her neck ; it was nearly half an inch imbedded in the flesh. But alas! there was nothing in the usual remedies to produce re- susitation that would have availed any thing here, for the young woman appeared to have been there all night and was frozen stiff. And is this the end of the sorrows, poor unfortunate! thought the kind physician, as bending over the helpless victim of unhallowed passion. He gazed upon that altered countenance — altered it was indeed — it was livid pale, — her tongue protruded through her teeth — pushed out her under lip,that was very much swol- len as though it had received some hard blow, or been severely bit in anguish, gave a dreadful ex- pression of agony, while a deep indentation on the cheek looked as though that too must have been pressed by some hard substance ; but whatever he thought at that time respecting the means by which 28 FALL RIVER, she came to her death, he wisely forbore to utter it, and the jury of inquest was summoned in im- mediately.* In the mean time the respectable farmer on whose premises the deceased was found, after having her carefully conveyed to the house, inquired of the Methodist minister if she had any friends in the place, and if not whether the society of which he said she was a respectable member would not see to the expense of her funeral. That person replied that he did not exactly know their rules in such cases, but he would go and consTilt them and return soon and inform them. Mean- while the truth struggled hard in the breast of the doctor. He had felt himself bound to secrecy in case the girl had lived, respecting the name of her betrayer, but her death and the awful manner of it impelled him to reveal what he believed to be the cause. He felt that death had taken off the injunc- tion of secrecy; and stepping after the clergyman, he related the confession of the unhappy girl to him, and what she had said respecting his brother Avery. In what language he expressed himself, or whether he gave way to the feelings of indigna- tion which the knowledge of such a transaction was calculated to awaken, is not known, but the reverend listener was at once roused to defend him, and express his full belief that his brother was perfectly innocent, and finally asserted " that the deceased was a very bad character, and that Avery had told him so, and warned him against her, and that she was not in full communion with the meet- * Her countenance was exceedingly distorted, and there was not only an ex- pression of anguish upon it, but one of horror and affright, combined with an angry frown. " That terrible look," said the doctor, ''was present with me for months, and often in the dead of night has appeared to my imagination with sueh force as to awake me. and I can scarcely think of it now without a chill.— That look never was seen on the countenance of a person who did not die by vio- lence." He expressed his amazement that among all that was said in Court that circumstance was not attested. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 29 ing but only received upon probation." Very shortly he returned to the house of Mr. Durfee, and said that " the deceased was a bad character and the meeting would have nothing to do with burying her." Of course Mr. Durfee's astonishmerii; was very great,having just before heard the Rev. gentleman say " she was a respectable woman and a member of their society." But nothing influenced the hon- est and benevolent farmer to omit his own duty, and deny the right of burial to the poor unhappy girl whose remains Providence seemd in a pecu- liar manner to have confided to his care. " She shall have a burial place in my grounds," said he, " near my family, and as respectable a funeral as anybody,and as respectable a clergyman as any other to make the prayer, and every thing that is necessary and decent shall be attended to. And without any fear of contamination, from the neighborhood of one whom the clergyman chose to denominate a vile character, he gave orders to have a grave prepared for her near his own family. In the mean time a hasty and irregular jury had been selected and sitting upon the question, and after a very superficial observation, and no exami- nation whatever of her person, brought in a ver- dict of "suicide.". The corpse was then delivered into the hands of five or six of some of the most respectable matrons of the village who had vol- unteered to perform this office of benevolence towards the hapless stranger. They commenced this work with mournful re- flections upon the subject of sclf^murder,and some expressions of pity towards her whose hard for- tune some way or other must have driven her to so rash and daring an act, for that she died othcr- 3^ 30 FALL RIVER, wise than by her own hand never entered the heads of either of the good women. But what was their astonishment when stripping the body for the purpose of arraying it for the grave they discover- ed marks of violence about her person. " Oh said one of the oldest of the ladies who they called aunt Hannah, whathas been done?" the person address- ed answered "rash violence." Just above each hip were marks of hands, the bruises of which were very bad, so that the spots of the thumb inwards, and the fingers outside were distinctly visible, they were thjse of a large hand, for one or two of the women applied theirs and they were not large enough to cover the marks : one only, the person they called aunt Hannah, found her hand to fit : there were bad bruises on the back, and the knees scratched and stained with grass as though ihey had been on the ground during some struggle : spots below the knee where the skin was rubbed off and bad bruises on the back ; the right arm was bent up and the hand turned back, and it was with much difficulty the females could bring it down, af- ter fomenting it for some time with warm water, and when they succeeded in bending it down it snapt so that they thought it must have been brok- en : appearance of a blow on the under lip, which was much swollen, and the tongue projected out a little. Still those women said but little, except a few whispers among themselves : in fact the time was too short for much talking. The body was not laid out until past noon on the day she was found, and she was buried at 1 o'clock on the next day. One most startling circumstance however occurred to arouse the attention and petrify the blood of the spectators. Mr. Durfee, the farmer who found the deceased, AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVK. 31 took his vvagon(short]y after the verdict of the jury of inquest) and proceeded to the house where she had boarded, after ler things, the object of this was to find something suitable for grave clothes, and if possible to ascertain by some letters or something of that kind where the friends of this poor girl, if she had any, were to be found. He found a trunk, locked, and a bandbox of clothes, &;c. which he took, and returned about noon. The key of the trunk was found in the pocket of the deceased, in presence of a number of persons. The trunk was examined, and four letters found in the bottom of it. One was addressed to the Rev. ]\Ir. Bidwellof Fall River, her minister, written by herself. The other three were anonymous, but directed on the outside to Sarah M. Connell, Fall River. Near the middle of the bandbox lay a small piece of soiled paper and a lead pencil. Mr. Durfee did not open the little piece of paper or think of its being of any consequence whatever. Two of the women, on rummaging the bandbox late in the afternoon, in hopes by some means to discover where to direct a letter to her friends, chanced to observe this very piece of paper, which, though very small, soil- ed and looking like waste paper,they unfolded and read. It contained these words — ■" If I am missing enquire of the Rev. E. K. Avery. S. M. C." There was a great many persons in the house, and constantly going and coming, and although the women talked much about it and shew it to others in the house, one of whom was the wife of the congregational clergyman, invited to make the prayer, yet it was not seen by the muster of the house until next morning. His thoughts upon read- ing it may easily be discerned. The hour of the ii.neral however drew near and active duties pre- 32 vented mucli time from being spent in debate. The resolution however of Mr. Durfee and some others to have the matter investigated, seemd to have been taken. A crowd gathered early to the house, and solemn and appropriate prayer was made by the congregational minister, the Rev. Mr. Fovv^ler, and, followed by a numerous procession, the remains of the unfortunate and mysterious stranger were conveyed to the grave. Providence however had determined that though consigned to the grave it should not be to present repose. A storm was gathering which was destined not only to call forth the dead from her grave, but to shake the society to which she belonged to its centre — a storm whose effects have continued to be felt ever since — a contention which has embittered many former friends against each other, created many heart-burnings, assailed the peace of fami- lies, hindered the christian missionary in the ex- ercise of his pious duties, caused the name of Christ to be blasphemed, and in some places almost de- populated churches. CHAPTER III. Although consigned to her grave, the image of the murdered maid (for murdered he now no long- er doubted she was) continued to haunt the pillow of Mr. Durfee, and he rose on the following day determined to investigate the dark mystery which hung over her fate. A circumstance occurred on this morning to materially increase the evidence of the murder of the young woman. A man in the neighbourhood, (Thomas Hart,) while walking near the scene of the sad catastrophe, found about AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 33 thirty rods from the place, in the direction towards Fall River, a piece of a comb, which upon being shown to the woman where the deceased boarded, was identified as hers. It was also known by the jeweller who had mended it for her a short time before, by the rivetting, which was peculiar. This piece of comb, evidently broken in a struggle, was carried by Mr. Hart to Mr. Durfee. That gentle- man took it, and with that and the piece of paper found in the bandbox, waited on the coroner.* The case seemed to call loudly for examination, and the coroner ordered thebodydisinterredonthe following day, and called a new jury. Three of the principal physicians and surgeons of the place ex- amined the person of the deceased, that is the ex- ternal bruises, and ascertained she had told no falsehood with respect to her situation. From the state of the lungs it appeared she died of suffoca- tion, and from the mark of the rope around her neck, that she could not have died by hanging, but by the drawing of the cord, which had been drawn so tight as to strangle, and must have been so be- fore suspension from the stake, as the knot they all deposed was not a slip knot, but what is called a clove hitch, and could not have been drawn but by pulling the two ends separately. Various other * The first part of the comb was found some rods from the place, while she lay near the stack, after they had taken her down, and the man who found it brought it and laid it on her cloak. They did not then know but she wore a broken piece in her hair, until after its fellow was found. Some way further off, on the lonely path leading round the corner of the wall towards Fall River, s'le wasbaried with tie first piece in her hair, and when disinterred it was taken out and compared with the remaining- piece found, and they fitted, and both parts were then identified. It was singular that the pocket handkerchief of the deceas- ed, found near her wound up in a hard bunch and wet through and through, should have been so little thought of at the time. By soaking it in cold water it would have been ascertained it was wet with saliva, but they did not think of this test at the time, though it was afterwards believed to have been used to stop her mouth by some person wh» murdered her. Doctor Wilbour remarked that the cloak showed marks of tears, which combined with the discharge from the nose appeared to have been very plentifully shed and ran down on each side of her cloak. He has even r xpressed his hope "that they might have been tearsof peni- tence as well as anguiali, shed when she found the fangs of the murderer were upon her, and she was about to appear in the presence of her God." 34 FALL RIVER, circumstances now for the first time detailed, were related, such as the deceased being found with her cloak hooked down before and her hands under it, her knees within four inches of the ground, and her clothes smooth under them, and moreover as it was known that when the neck is not broken by hanging, and hers was not, there is a great strug- gle in death, and there was not on the ground be- neath the least signs of any. On the contrary, her feet were quite close together, her clothes stand- ing off from her behind as far as they would reach, and smooth under her. And lastly, and most ex- traordinary of all, her gloves on her hands, with- out any marks of a rope or any thing of the kind upon them, although the rope must have been drawn with great strength by two hands before it was tied to the stake. With all these proofs before them it was not sur- prising their verdict should be " murder." It was true suspicion pointed at Avery before, but the sup- posed sanctity of his character shut the mouths of many who but for that and his profession would have been ready to exclaim " thou art the man." Although Mr. Durfee and others were thus alone in acting, it must not be supposed that circumstan- ces of the nature just described could be concealed. They were not ; and the inhabitants of Fall River on the Massachusetts side (where they do business offhand, and not quite so clumsily as in Rhode-Isl- and) having heard from the first the circumstances of suspicion that had been developed, became very much amazed at the slowness of enquiry respect- ing such a horrible transaction ; and feeling them- selves rather scandalized, as a place, although the matter did not come under their immediate cog- nizance, at length began to take active, measures AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 35 in relation to it. All day Sunday there was a sort of half stifled hum heard through the village. The bells as usual called people to public worship, but not as usual was the solemnity of it regarded by the great mass of the people. Many, to be sure, went to meeting ; but many did not appear to hear after they got there. Some thought ministers were such wicked creatures, they did not want to hear them ; and some too just to condemn all, for the sins of one, endeavoured to listen with reverence, while their thoughts, in spite of themselves, would wander after him, who in their mind was guilty of this foul deed, and at this very time calling sinners to repentance. Oh you ! upon whom the authorities of the church, and the partiality of man, have conferred the envied distinction of speaking in your Master's cause, of being ambassadors for the greatest and highest of potentates, how great is your responsi- bility! a stain upon that spotless garment who shall wash away ? If you are defiled by abominations, the destruction of your own souls is the least evil of which you are the cause. All day, little knots of citizens were seen gather- ing at the corners of the streets, and even at the meeting-house doors, discussing the subject of the murder, though in an under tone of voice. Upon separatingjthey were invariably observed to shake their heads and walk away sorrowful. No active measures were, however, taken until morning ; when a few citizens met in the street, and agreed upon having a meeting at the Lyceum Hall. A boy was sent about the streets with a bell, to noti- fy the people to assemble, and very soon after the hall was filled to overflowing. Upon motion, a committee, consisting of five gentlemen, some of 36 the most respectable persons in the place, was appointed ; who were directed to "meet the Coro- ner and jury of inquest, who, it was understood, were that morning to be in session, and disinter the body for further examination ; and if, upon ex- amination, they should believe a murder had been committed, and upon having the evidence that some person was implicated in the murder, they should proceed to aid and assist the authorities of Rhode-Island in having the subject properly investigated, and in prosecuting it to a final issue." At this meeting too, another and larger commit- tee was appointed to collect and report to the first named committee, "any evidence or circumstance that might come to their knowledge, having a bearing upon the case." It was resolved that the truth should, if possible, be elicited in this search ; and that they should report every thing of a favourable nature respecting the accused, as well as that which should appear unfavourable. Anoth- er meeting was subsequently held to make provis- ions for defraying the expenses of this committee. It is said by the friends of Avery often, that he gave a manifest proof of his innocence in remain- ing in Bristol till the warrant came, and not fleeing or shewing any difl*erence in his manners. The fact was, that he did not know any thing was sus- pected of him, except his being the seducer of the girl. Mr. Bidwell, to whom Doct. Wilbour had, as before mentioned, related the conversations of the deceased, had proceeded immediately to Bris- tol and communicated with Avery, and had stated to him he was suspected of being the betrayer of the helpless girl. Avery and his friends got Mr. Bartlett, the stage driver, and a Methodist by pro- fession, to go to Fall River and see how matters AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 37 stood. In tha mean time, Avery kept his house, walking it, as was said, in a state of very great agitation. He did no preaching that day. Bartlett proceeded to Fall River, and went in search of Doct. Wilbour, who was from home, visiting a pa- tient. He followed him, and met him returning not far from his house, which they entered toge- ther. Upon going into the house, the Doctor per- ceived J. Durfee and another man from Tiverton waiting for him. Aiding Bartlett into the parlour, he went out to see them. They informed the Doc- tor that the warrant they had got was informal; and that it had been decided to apprehend Avery, and they requested him to go over the lina and complain of him. This the Doctor refused to do, because.he thought it was not his business; "but," observed he, '* if he is not apprehended soon, he will be oft". Here is Bartlett in the other room now come to see how the business stands ; and he will not get out of the place without finding out he is suspected of the murder." One of the gentlemen then proposed they should proceed immediately to Bristol, and have him put under arrest until the succeeding day, when a proper warrant could be procured ; and begging the Doctor to keep Bartlett as long as possible, they departed, and in a few mo- ments were on the way to Bristol. In the mean time, the Doctor apologized for delaying conversa- tion until he had dined, after which he recounted, the particulars of his conversation with the deceas- ed to his interrogator,and concluded with the ques- tion, "and do you know that he is suspected of the murder too ?" Amazed, the messenger answerd, "no!" upon which the Doctor assured him of the fact. Of course, he did not wait long after this, but hastened to convey the alarming intelligence to his 4 38 FALL RIVER, employer. However, long before his arrival at Bristol, his friend and brother was under arrest. It seems scarcely possible Avery could have refrained from preaching on that day merely from delicacy, because he had heard 'it was suspected he was the betrayer of the deceased girl, when he thus perseveres in it at the present day. However, Bartlett stated he was then very much disturbed and distressed in mind indeed, and that " he did not know when he had been kept from the house of God before." Nothing was done hastily ; the jury of inquest were very slow in iheir operations ; and it was not until several days after the murder that Avery was arrested ; and he probably might have escaped even that, had not new circumstances continually come up calculated to strengthen former suspi- cions. For instance, the other piece of the broken comb was found on the same back route to Fall River ; fitted the first piece with which she was buried, and both were sworn to and identified as her's by the person who mended it and the people where she boarded, who, with the persons who worked next to her in the factory, deposed that she went out about six in the evening with it whole : changed her dress for one better ; went in good spirits, and was exceedingly anxious to get leave to go out at the hour of six : had spoken of an ap- pointment several days before to the daughter of the lady where she boarded; said she "did not care how many days it rained, if it was only fair on that day," 20th of December; shewed the pink and yel- low letter which were afterwards found in her trunk to this young lady, who identified them ; the white one also, with which she returned from the Post Office, on the 8th of December. The lady did AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 39 not read the inside, but looked at the post marks and hand writing and was able to testify to them. Those letters corroborated the statement made by Doct. Wilboiir. The first of these letters, written on yellow paper, was dated, Nov. 13th, 1832, and was as follows : " I have just received your letter with no small surprise, and will say, I will do all you ask, only keep your secrets. 1 wish you to write me as soon as you get this, naming some time and place where I shall see you, and then look for answer before I come ; and will say whether convenient or not, and will say the time. I will keep your letters till I see you, and M'ish you to keep mine, and have them with you there at the time. Write soon — say nothing to no one. Yours in haste." They observed that he says, "I have just receiv- ed yours ;" and upon examining at the Post Office, Fall River, it was found there was one letter mail- ed for Bristol on the day preceding that address- ed to S. M. Cornell, viz. on the 12th. But who it was for had escaped their recollection, if they ob- served at the time. Again, there was a letter on pink paper, addressed to the deceased, which Mr. Orswell, the engineer of the King Philip, (a steam- boat plying between Fall River and Providence) deposed was given him by Avery, in person, to deliver to Sarah Maria Cornell, near the last of November, while the four days meeting was hold- ing " among the Methodists at Providence. This letter too appeared to be in answer to one written not long before ; and on the 19th of November the Post Master recollected that on that day, while making up the mail, he heard something drop into the letter box after he had cleared it ; and upon looking, saw two letters, one for Bristol and one 40 directed to Mr. Rawson, brolher-in-law of the de- ceased, South Woodstock. This letter was after- wards produced by Mr. Ilawson. His impression was, the other was directed to Avery; remembered distinctly it was for Bristol : and as it was ascer- tained he was correct about the first name, the committee could have no doubt about the other. But so extremely cautious were they to go upon facts, that they delayed their proceedings until Ors- well went up the river and saw Avery, to ascertain to a certainty, whether he would recognize the man who gave him the letter for that person. This letter, the one mentioned when speaking of her communications, to Doct.Wilbour,was as follows. Providence, Nov. 1832. *'Dear Sister — I received your letter in due sea- son and should hare answered it before now but I thought I would wait till this opportunity — as I told yeu 1 am willing to help you and do for you as circumstances are I showld rather you would come to this place, viz Bristol on the 18th of Dec, and stop at the Hotel and stay till six in the even- ing and then go directly up across the main street to the brick building near to the stone meeting house where I will meet you and talk with you — when you come to the Tavern either enquire for work or go out in the street on pretence of looking for some or something else and I may see you — say nothing about me or my family — should it slorm on the 18th come on the 20th if you cannot come and it will be more convenient to meet me at the Methodist meeting house in Somersett just over t^e ferry on either of the above evenings I will meet you there at the same time or if you can- not do either I will come to Fall River on one of AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 41 the above evenings back of the same meeting house where I once saw you — at any hour you say on either of the above evenings when there will be the least passing I should think before the mill stops work — this I will leave with you if I come will come if it does not storm very hard — if it does the first I will come the second write me soon and tell me which — when you write direct your letters to Betsy Hill and not as you have done to me re- memher this your last letter I am afraid was bro- ken open. ware your calash not your plain bonnet you can send your letter by mail Yours &c. B H S. M. C. let me still injoin the secret — keep the letters in your bosom or burn them up." The white letter found in her possession, mark- ed 04ie cent postage, was as follows : Fall River Dec 8th " I will be here on the 20th if pleasant at the place named at 6 o'clock if not pleasant the next monday eve. — say nothing." With respect to this last, final and fatal letter, upon examination, it was ascertained that Avery had been at Fall River on that very day ; had been heard asking for paper in a store kept by a mem- ber of the Methodist meeting ; and that that man went into the next store to get a wafer for him : could not recollect whether he wrote in the store, but remembered hearing him talk about writing to the editor of a paper in the village, (whom, upon enquiry, he did not write to.) From thence he went in the direction of the Post Office, and the deputy post master recollected, a few moments before the stage started for Bristol, in which he 4* 42 FALL RlVERj went, hearing a letter drop : and looking at the moment saw Avery just withdrawing his hand from the hox. He then looked, and took out the one cent letter addressed to S. M. Cornell, when the wafer was wet. That wafer was recollected as the one supplied by the lady next door to the store where the paper was supposed to be procured — remembered from its peculiar colour. The first letter, the yellow one, was post mark- ed at Warren; and on that day it was ascertained the accused had been there. The other letter was written by Sarah Maria herself, and directed to her minister, Mr. Bidwell- It expressed much compunction for her sins, con- fessed herself unworthy of a place in the meeting, and requested to Qe set aside as unworthy, &-e. With all these concurring circumstances before them, it is most evident the committee could not, in conscience, take any other course than the one they did take. Now previous to the arrest, when the suspicions of the murder were first excited at Fall River, his friends (Avery's) consoled them- selves with the assurance that Avery would be able to prove where he was at the time of the mur- der; and it being a very cold blustering day until towards night, they had little doubt it would be found he was at his own house. What then was their consternation to find, upon enquiry, that he had actually crossed the ferry, at Bristol, on the afternoon of that very day, and after being absent on the island until a very late hour in the evening had gone back to the ferry-house requesting to be set over, which Mr. Gifford, the ferryman, declin- ed doing on account of ihe lateness of the hour and tediousness of the weather. There had been a rough wind for most part of the day, and gener- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 43 ally in that place tiiere is a considerable swell for some lime after. Still the friends of Mr. Avery kept up a good courage, for they felt morally certain that being in a methodist neighbourhood near so many friends and acquaintance he could easily be recognized, and would undoubtedly bring proof of where he was. But when after the examination at Bristol, it was found that he could not bring a single in- dividual M'ho even thought they saw him on the route he described himself to have taken, many who had trust in him before fell off. He observed he had been on a walk of pleasure and observa- tion, walking about the Island towards the coal mines, near the Union Meeting-house, &c. &c. past brother such a one and sister 'tother one, crossed a brook, went through a white gate, saw a " man with a gun, and a boy with some sheep," and finally wandered back to the ferry somewhere about ten o'clock, of a cold December night, with- out any supper or appearing to think of any ! (though travelling ministers are not apt to forget such accommodations.) No man with a gun, or boy with sheep, could be heard of in that part of the country from any body but him.self, and no one saw him, through all that route : nevertheless the justices appointed to examine him at Bristol, after what they declared to be a " patient, labori- ous and impartial examination of the subject," dis- charged him. The county of Newport claimed him as their prisoner in the first place, and it was not a legal examination, because the offence al- leged against him was perpetrated in that county. But his friends were determined to have his ex- amination there, and they had it. By this illegal and ill judged proceeding the State was put to the 44 FALL RIVER, expense of another examination, besides some much more heavy ones. The inhabitants of Fall River calied another meeting and entered com- plaint to a magistrate in the county of Newport. A warrant was issued and a sheriff sent once more to take him. CHAPTER IV. Upon arriving at Bristol, the sheriff found the prisoner had lied. Thirteen days had been spent in his examination, during which time he appear- ed so firm and unmoved for the most part that it was thought there was no danger of his decamp- ing. He had fled however, and left his character to take care of itself. Those who believed him innocent, had thought he would court a trial in order to free himself from the odium attached to him, which unless wiped off they knew must for- ever destroy his usefulness as a minister of the gospel ; but when they found he had decamped and left his friends and partiz^ns to fight it out in the best manner they were able, they were confounded, but for the most part wise enough to keep still ; and had he never been found, as most people be- lieved he never would, it is probable the point would have been conceded. But he was gone : and Col. Harnden, the person who went in pursuit of him, was almost at a loss to know what to do. There seemed no trace of him to be discovered. But although the person of the accused appeared to be beyond their reach, his character was not ; and this flight, disgraceful and unmanly as it was, put the finishing seal to it. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 45 Matters seemed so well arranged with respect to the reverend fugitive, that it would have puz- zled wise heads to have known which way to look for him. But the indefatigable Col. Harnden was not to be daunted or disheartened in the cause he had undertaken. He had been one of the commit- tee appointed to examine into this affair by the in- habitants of Fall River, and had satisfied himself that the accused ought at whatever cost to be brought to trial. He therefore commenced a most laborious and arduous search, and after traversing hundreds of miles backwards and forwards, in three States, having as he believed got on a track of him, he finally succeeded in his search, finding him in a remote neighborhood in New-Hampshire, at the house of a Mr, Mayo. He was indebted at last to the sagacity of a baker's boy, who related a story of Mrs. Mayo being accused of some mis- demeanor in the meeting, and Avery being sent for to plead her off, which he succeeded in doing, and saved her from the censures of the meeting — an evil of no ordinary character, if we may judge from the manner of handling the character of the deceased — and the lad thinking according to the old saying that one good turn deserved another, thought it must be he was concealed at that house. Upon arriving at the house, Mr. Mayo denied his being there, but observing his wife glide out of the room, Mr. Harnden followed her, and found Avery hid, pale and tremibling behind th^ door of a cham- ber, evidently fitted up for his concealment, having the windows completely darkened, with lights and fire wood laid in, and all the comforts of life in abundance bore witness to the gratitude of her who held him in such gentle durance : pity that such comfortable quarters should Itave been disturbed 46 FALL RIVER, by the intrusion of such an unwelcome guest. Mr. Harnden returned with him through Boston, where, as in several other places, he, like other great characters, received the calls of his friends, the Methodists : Divines and all flocking to pay their respects — giving him the right hand of fel- lowship, &c. and having several " comfortable seasons of prayer," cause death ; or at least that must have l}een ther meaning, though it was worded in the dndictnaeit, " of which she instantly died," but as no persoi could die twice, we presume this must have beei the meaning. The prisoner of course plead " not guilty." The difficulties experienced in the foraation of a jury were greater, it is be- lieved, tlian were ever known before in any court in the Urited States, so strong was the presump- tion of tie prisoner's guilt that it seemed almost impossib]e to find a man who had not made up his mind, anc this mind was pretty rudely and une- quivocally expressed by all on the spot : some few declared Iheir feelings to be perfectly neutral, but one only solitary instance could be found of a man who said ae had formed an opinion rather favour- able to the prisoner ; and it was not until after one hundred and eight were challenged that a jury could be found : the difficulty was materially in- creased by the prisoner's counsel, who in this as well as in every part of the trial seemed determi- ned to carry every point by what is called manage- ment, and who fought the ground inch by inch — with so little apparent reverence to the authorities of the law that many a native of Rhode-Island blushed to hear the highest court in his state dic- tated to thus by a Boston lawyer. As there are many, probably, who read this who 60 FALL RIVER, have never read the trial and never will, and some who will not even permit that documeit to come into their houses, we shall endeavour to give a summary of the evidence, though in a ery brief and perhaps superficial manner; without going into the whole revolting particulars. First then, the case was stated in a clea- light, by D. J. Pierce, Esq. of Newport, the witufsses were then sworn. The fact of the death of S. M. Cor- nell was then proved, and of her appearince when; found, as presumptive evidence she couM not have hung herself, that she was taken down vith the ut- most care, rolled in a blanket and laid (n straw in a horse wagon, and carried over a smooth road to* the dwelling of Mr. Durfee, so that n^ne of the bruises could have been inflicted after death. — Here followed the testimony of the women who laid her out, and of the physician who examined her, the first and second time, for she was disin- terred the second time on the 25th Jtn. when a more complete examination was had : this to be sure was nearly or quite a month aftei her inter- ment, but it was in the coldest part of the year ; she had been laid in a dry and marly soil, was fro- zen when she was buried, and the earth frozen that was thrown upon her, and the physician depo- sed that there was little alteration in her from the first examination. Every succeeding one brought to light new barbarities, and imagination sickens at the idea of the cruel butchery which this most unfortunate girl must have undergone, previous to her being strangled. No person could hear them unmoved : the very judges, though used to the de- lineation of crime and pictures of violence, wept upon the bench : yea wept like children at the de- scription of her mangled person. We question an authentic narrative. 51 whether (he mere bodily sufferings of any woman ever crea ed such excitement, since the death of her whoiii the Levite cut in pieces and sent to all the coasts of Israel, which caused the death of more than forty thousand persons, and the exter- mination of a tribe.* The circumstances of the letters were sworn to, and ha fa sheet of paper found in the store where the letter of the 8th of December was supposed to be written, which exactly matched one of the letters, both the water mark and even the very fibres of the paper. It was proved that the prisoner left his home on the 20tii Dec. without any good reason, without informing his family where he was going or assign- ing any excuse for absenting himself, that he had refused an invitation for that day to visit a Metho- dist lady, without giving any reason; that no person had been seen on the route he pretended to have taken on that afternoon, but that a man answering his description exactly was traced step by step all the way to Fall River, even to the very stack yard. One man, Mr. Cranston, at Howland's ferry bridge, s'vore to his identity. Mr. Lawton, the man on the Tiverton side, remembened a person of his exact description passing at the same hour, three o'clock. Mr. Durfee had been blowing rocks quite near the stack yard, and saw a man standing and looking about with his back towards him — Abner Davis, at work there, saw the same man sitting on the wall, and upon his proceeding in the direction of the rock where they had just laid a tram of powder (the direction of Fall River) call- ed out to him, when he stopped. Both of their * What mig-hty despotism, what scheme of bondaee, what film of ignorance and fanaticism, what synem of ecclesiastical tyranny, may not the death of this woman be iuteuJed to break? 52 FALL RIVER, descriptions of clothes, person, &c. agieed with that of Avery, and upon seeing him they felt con- vinced he was the person, but as they difl not see his face could not swear to his identity. William Hamilton passing this spot about a quarter before nine in the evening, heard sounds as of stifled groans of some female in distress. The sounds ap- peared to proceed from the spot where the first piece of comb was found. He rose the hill and stopped, when hearino^ nothing more, went on. — One Ellinor Owen, who lived within sight of the place, about a quarter of a mile distant, testified to hearing screechings from that, direction at half past seven in the evening. The cord was identi- fied as belonging to some bags that lay in a cart of Mr. Durfee's within a few rods. A man an- swering his description went into the back room of Lawton's hotel, early in the evening on that day, and had a glass of brandy carried in. They did not know Avery, but upon seeing him, be- lieved him to be the same person. Some person passed round the toll gate, at Howland's ferry, in returning, after it was closed, (after nine o'clock) by the beach. Their tracks were seen on the sand, where the water effaces any print once in twelve hours. The gate-keeper looked in the morning and ascertained some one had passed. — He returned to Gifford's, at the Ferry late at night, about a quarter before ten, and said he had been on the island on business ; and to the question of the ferryman's daughter, if he "had a meeting that evening ?" he returned for answer, he had not, but had, " been on business to brother Cook's." Nothing perhaps through the whole proceed- ings of the trial, examination, &c. gave more offence to the feelings of the public than the reck- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. oS less disregard to character shewn by the prison- er and his friends in impeaching witnesses. This last mentioned witness, Miss Jane Gifford, was a young lady about eighteen years of age, of fair character it is believed as any other in the coun- try : she had been a member of the Methodist class, and previous to this no one heard any thing to her discredit, but on this occasion they brought wit- nesses to swear " her character was not good for truth and veracity," though upon cross examina- tion they were obliged to acknowledge "they had never heard anything to her disadvantage previous to the Bristol examination." Several very respec- table persons in the neighbourhood testified to her good character, among the rest Judge Childs, who had " known the girl from infancy." They first spoke against her at the examination at Bristol, where she deposed to the fact. Another instance of this barbarity occurred at Bristol, whence it seemed an object to prove that S. M. Cornell was a wander- er and interloper at the camp meeting in Thomp- son : it was there mentioned she was seen with a Miss Rebecca Burk of Providence, and by her in- troduced to one or two Methodists. Rev. Mr. Merrill was asked if she was not a leading member of their meeting ? " No," he answered, " she was not a leading member there, that she had been set aside for impudence, and imprudence of conduct," or something like that, when the fact was that this same woman had been considered as a leading member in that society for more than twenty years, that she had been of great service in the cause of methodism in Providence particularly, and it is believed by many has done more towards building up the Methodist society in that town than any three persons who could be named, that she has 54 FALL RIVER, given liberally of her substance towards the sup- port of their meetings, though obliged to labour with her hands for her own support. The only thing they could have said, and that if fairly ex- plained would have done her no harm, was some little disagreement between some of the members, of whom she was one, some time previous, where- in they were all what they call " put back," for six months, and at the end of that time restored, and every thing went on as before,* but there was no- thing to affect her character. The words " impu- dence" and " imprudence" are generally under- stood to mean a great deal ; but we are digressing. Mr. Orswell, the engineer of the King Philip, gave a very clear and comprehensive evidence with respect to the delivery of the pink letter by Avery, in Providence — that he received it from the hands of Avery himself in person, who gave it to him be- tween the hours of 8 and 9, or a little past 9 in the morning — that he received it with an express in- junction to have it delivered as soon as the boat ar- rived, and gave him ninepence for carrying it — that he did not know Avery then, but went up to Bristol to see him, and recognised him at once, at his (Avery's) house, and to his anxious inquiries of " what he meant to swear?" he replied, " that to the best of his knowledge and belief he was the person." Avery then put on liis spectacles and asked him if he looked like him, and then turning to his friends asked them " if he ever went out without spectacles ?" No notice appeared to be taken of this in court which was singular, as all the witnesses who saw him when he crossed the ferry (Mr. Pearce, Mr. Gifford, &c.) attest to his *Itis saLdtobetheir rule, where people dispute, to crwnpel them to live in harmony. If so it is a good rule at any rale. People cannot always see alike, l3ut they can refrain from disputing on their differences. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 55 "being without spectacles. It certainly amounted to proof positive of his artifice and dissimulation. He did in general, and for all that is known to the contrary, invariably wear his spectacles on going out, except this once, and on the fatal 20th of Dec. What could possibly be his motive for going on those tw*? occasions without them, unless it was to disguise himself? Mr. Orswell did not positively swear to the day the letter was delivered him, but thought it was on Thursday. The letter was iden- tified as the one he received, by the marks of his fingers which were smutty and oily at the time, ;and he recollected the manner. With respect to the Camp Meeting, the source and origin as she asserted, of her misfortunes, it was stated by a Mr. Paine, the young gentleman who carried her there at the request of her brother- in-law, " that he had seen her at various times dur- ing the summer at the shop where she worked while there, and that her conduct always appeared be- coming and proper, and that he neither knew or suspected or heard of any impropriety in her." The sister of the deceased stated that she (S.M. Cornell) returned from the Camp Meeting to her house with a young man, an apprentice of theirs, Mr. Saunders ; and that in September she confess- ed her fears of her situation to her, acknowledging her connexion with Avery at the Camp Meeting. The sister also swore to the fact that S. M. Cornell was free from any such embarrassment previous to that meeting. This was also sworn to by a Miss Lawton, a very respectable young woman in the family at the time, and who was her bed fellow. The brother-in-law of the deceased also testified to this confidence placed in himself and wife, and fceing troubled about it, he consulted his minister, 56 FALL RIVER, Rev. Mr. Cornell, and alawyer, and that they both advised her removal to Rhode-Island. And fur- ther, both stated they never Imd the least reason to suppose she meditated self-destruction. That she had never, notwithstanding what had past, spoken reproachfully of Avery, but always mildly, and that her conduct at their house was j;crfectly proper." Mr. Saunders, the young man mentioned, gave his testimony to the bringing of her from Camp meeting — her behaviour perfectly proper, &c. in answer to the questions asked, and to his having put letters in the post office for her several times. ** Were any of them directed to Bristol?" it was asked. " Yes." " Were the letters sent to Bristol before or after the Camp meeting?" " Before." Before was the answer, and by what strajige over- sight this witness was not even interrogated we cannot tell ; why after an answer that promised to them so much light on the subject, it was pressed no further is beyond conjecture. Many people previous to this had formed the conclusion that " Marmion and she were friends of old." And that the betrayer had connived at her expulsion from the meeting, in order to conceal his own vil- lany the better, and they thought they saw in this testimony of the correspondence with Bristol pre- vious to the Camp Mveimg a confirmation of their suspicions, that the interview with Avery at that meeting- was concerted by letter : they therefore eagerly looked to see the witness further interro- gated, but no such interrogation took place. What he would have said^ if interrogated, belong to ano- ther part of this story — and we hasten along with the trial. The testimony of her sister and sister's husband AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 57 was the only one which related directly to the in- terview of the deceased with the prisoner at the Camp Meeting. She had told them of an ac- knowledg-ement which she had given the meeting, about being unworthy, fine. l the least cau»e to be so, or possessed as weak; a mind as they imputed to my sister, what might not th« consequences hi'Ve be-^n. They might have broken up my family and pi-rhap* driven me to distraction or suicide, but to disturb my peace in thai way is beyond the;r power." fcitill w« must suppose she was a very greiU sulTertj- 'in heai:iijj sucU abuii«. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, 65 Many argued, who heard this testimony, that this was suspicious ; that it was a tiling contrary to gen- eral experience — that among such a multitude, one person of no very extraordinary character for any thing, should be singled out as an object of remark, a point of observation, a centre of attraction to which all eyes were turned, and argued from this very testimony, as well as the similar one of the four days meeting in Providence, that it was over- done, and would undoubtedly have a tendency to convince the court of the delinquency of the pris- oner — the result however disappointed their cal- culations. In the same manner they endeavored to cover the time of day Orswell supposed was the one that the letter was handed him. The Attorney Gene- ral staled in his remarks, that so earnest had they been to cover the time, when the letter could have been delivered, that " they made out fifteen min- utes more than there really was of it." It appear- ed from the testimony of the witnesses, that he was constantly with some of them except when the went from breakfast to the clergyman's, when the walk was accomplished in as short a space of time, as ever man walked it, and immediately appeared in another place, when the Rev. somebody else took him to brother somebody's, and instantly he appeared again in the Methodist meeting-house, at the beginning of the meeting, precisely at nine o'clock ; this they remarked by one particular cir- cumstance, it is that he did not open the meeting which he had previously agreed to do; for this omission no reason appeared from him or his friends, so that people were left to conclude, either that there was a mistake in the day, which Ors- .well did not swear to, or that he had slipped away 06 a few moments before the meeting (eluding the vigilance of liis sentinels,) and was too much fa- tigued to open the meeting after such a race; or that he excused himself from making the first pray- er, in Older to slip away while the people were on their knees and would not observe him ; and as to other profane spectators, they would not have ob- served the circumstance of a man gliding in and out, where there is such constant ingress and egress.* While the evidence was taking, witnesses ar- rived post haste from Providence, to swear that they had just measured the distance from the Me- thodist meeting-house to the steamboat wharf, and found the distance so great that it was impossible he could have travelled it that morning before meeting. So Mr. Orswell was completely sworn down. Nevertheless a little time after that trial was decided, a respectable farmer came forward and testitied to seeing Avery when he delivered the very letter to Orswell. He did not know Avery at the time, but when the trial came to be published, accompanied with a striking likeness of the Rev. accused, this man, Mr. Angell, im- mediately recognized the person. f Witnesses from the Camp ground were produ- ced against S. M. Cornell, the deceased : one of whom testified she saw her slap a young man on * This dodging about in Methodist meeting is believed to be nothing uncom. men. The writer of these pages has a very distinct recollection of J. N. Maffit, who used frequently while another minifeter was praying, to climb up and look ovL-r the house, to see who stood'efTected and either go to ^uch after, or have them brouH-ht up to have tlie benefit of his prayers : as it was not noticed as a breach of decorum, we conclude it is not uncommon. t The measuring the ground and deciding he could not have g.one on account of the distance, reminds us of the trial of John N. Maffit, whom a clergyman ©f unimpeachable character saw kiss his hand during service time to a lady in the gallery. The methodist conference went and measured the distance from where Maffit stood to the gallery, and verj^ gravely decided that the distance was so great that the witness could not possibly have heard the report of the kiss! 11 and that their worUiy brother must be innocent. AT /LTilKNTIC NARRATIVF. t)l th« shoulder; nnother thoii her betray- er ; and finall}' hanging herself after writing a bil- let, " if she was missing to inquire of the Rev. E. K. Avery," — that she had said, " she would be revenged upon him if it cost her her life," and ac- cordingly had contrived this method and carried it into execution, and that all the rest was the ef- fect of the lieightened imagination of the Fall Hiv- cr folks ; and the excitement he politely styled the '* Fall River fever :" and Avhenever in the course of his brief review of the evidence, he chanc 'd to come across something remarkably tough, v, hy with a flourish known only to the people called lawyers, he would give it a toss, and get rid of it at once without any trouble, as easily as one would toss a biscuit into the sea. Never was the old proverb verified better than in this case, viz. "one bold assertion is better tlian a host of argument," and "two negatives is as good as one aflirmative;" and we had like to have added the third, " a lie well stuck to is as good as the truth," but we leave that out. He attempted to establish it as a fact that the deceased was insane too, and yet that all this method v/as adopted in her madness : that she was capable of a })lot of revenge deeper and of a more diabolical character tlian any ever related before of woman — a plot which, in conception and execution, surpassed all human credibility. He was replied to by the Attorney General, Al- bert C. Greene, Esq. a\ hose health at the time was not good, and whose arduous labours had during the trial much exhausted him ; a gentleman of good 70 FALL RIVER, law knowledge, of amiable manners, and feeling heart, but whose plain good sense was no match for the subtlety of his antagonist. His speech contained much sound reasoning ; nevertheless, after a short charge from the chief justice, the jury- retired, and on the next morning, at 9 o'clock, brought in a verdict of not guilty^ having con- sumed four weeks in the trial. Various opinions respecting the verdict of the jury prevailed, yet all felt it their duty to acquiesce in the decision of a legal tribunal, and no one had the least idea of molesting Mr. Avery after his dis- charge by the court. The Fall River people, who had behaved throughout mostmagnanimously,not- withstanding the hue and cry of the friends of Avery, that they were thirsting for his blood, and a deal more of that sort, were as content to let him live as any others. They however looked for- ward with certain confidence to his being deposed as a preacher. They could conceive of very great efforts to save him from the gallows, from the mis- taken notion that the penalty was the disgrace of <;rime, and that his death would be thought to bring an uneffaeeable stain upon the Methodist order. When therefore his own people sat upon his case, as it was known they did not measure their decis- ion by the fiat of the law, and that he did not, nor eould not, satisfactorily account for himself, or clear up the affair of the letters^ &c. it was be- lieved he would be expelled from their order, or at least forever debarred from preaching — that if it were for their own character alone, they would not sufler such an outrage upon the feelings and common sense of the community. But to their amazement and that of others the " Ecclesiastical Council," as they style themselves, the highest AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 71 tribunal among them at any rate, pronounced him perfectly innocent, and freed from all suspicion, and continued him in the service of his office. This outrage upon the feelings of society it is believed will eventually injure them more in the estimation of mankind, than it would have done to have had twenty preachers hung. To leave digression and pursue the thread of the narrative — E. K. Avery was almost instantaneous- ly hurried out of Newport, after tlie rendering of the verdict, and conveyed to his family in Bristol, and continued in his office, and weekly to hold forth to the people, followed by crowds Vv^hom curiosity attracted to hear him, so muchlnore v/ill that im- pel people than devotion. The murdered, mangled remains of Sarah Maria Cornell still repose at Fall River, at rest we hope, from all further molestation. The generous and feeling inhabitants of the village wished to have placed a handsome marble monument over her re- mains, detailing the sad tragedy of her death, but this her relations objected to, from the fear that it would not be permitted to rem.ain, and that the same interest which had been exerted to blacken her character, might be to destroy all records of the transaction. Her brother and sister Rawson therefore placed a small but neat stone at the head and foot of the grave, simply inscribed with her name and age. That lowly grave has been the pilgrimage of thousands from all the diff'erent sec- tions of the country. It is in vain that the friends of Avery endeavour to place that unfortunate being beneath even the pity of the virtuous. Her own sex feel she was a woman, and as such entitled to their sympathies, the other, more generally inclin- ed to compassionate female frailty, pity her with 72 undissembled sorrow. Few have visited tliat spot without tears. There seems to be a spell breath- ing around that none can withstand : the eflect is absolutely irresistible. It is a humble grave, in a solitary spot. It is a grave of a poor factory girl, but from that grave a voice seems toissue,noiseles3 as that still small one,that speaks to the conscience of the sinner, but whose tones nevertheless sink deep into the heart. The author of these pages visited that spot, as well as the one where she met her fate, at a most interesting moment. It was on the evening of the tirst of July. The moon was then at its full, yet a kind of shadowy darkness hung over the spot, blending the outlines of ihe surrounding landscape so as to render them nearly indistinct. For some time I stood wondering, without dreaming of the cause, but upon looking up, discovered the moon was in an eclipse. There was a singular coincidence in it certainly, and it forcibly reminded me of the dark and mysterious fate of her who reposed beneath. I watched it as the shadow slid from the moon's disk, and I felt that confidence which I have ever felt since, that the mistery of darkness which envelopes the story and hides the sad fate of that unfortunate victim will one day be dispersed. The following lines were penned at the time and afterwards published in the Fall River Monitor. They are inserted here by request. And here thou makest thy lonely bed, Thou poor forlorn and injured one ; Here rests thy aching head — Marked by a nameless stone.* ♦ Tlie atOQW with her nan>c' were not tUen up» AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 73 Poor victim of man's lawless passion, Though e'er so tenderly carest — Better to trnst the raging ocean, Than lean upon his stormy breast. And thou though frail, wert fair and mild ; Some gentle virtues warmed thy breast. Poor outcast being ! sorrow's child ! Reproach can't break thy rest. On thy poor wearied breast the turf Lies quite as soft as on the rich : What now to thee the scorn and mirtli, Of sanctimonious hypocrites. That mangled form now finds repose, And who shall say thy soul does not, Since he who from the grave arose Brought immortality to light. Poor fated one the day is coming When sin and sorrow pass away — I see the light already gleaming Which usherss in an endless day. Where shall the murderer be found ? He calls upon the rocks in vain — The force of guilt will then confound, Alas the Judge ! no longer man. He calls upon the rocks in vain^ The adamantine rocks recoil. Earth can no longer hide the slain, And death yields up his spoil. Where shall the murderer appear ? My God thy judgements are most deep : No verdict can the monster clear Who dies a hypocrite must wake to weep. CHAPTER V. LIFE OP SAEAH MARIA CORNELL. "With the greatest care and impartiality the au- thor of the following pages has collected together ^11 the facts susceptible of proof relating to the life of Sarah Ma^-ia Cornell. Some of these were gain- ed from her own family — others from strangers. S. M. CORNELL was horn in May, 1802, in Rupert, Vermont. Her mother, the daughter of Christopher Leffingwell, Esq. of Norwich,* was a well educated and good principled woman, a daugh- ter to one of the first families in the State. She had been carefully brought up and accustomed only to the best society. Unhappily she contract- ed early in life an unfortunate attachment. Mr. Cornell was a person employed in one of the manufactories belonging to her father. Good looking and of pleasing address, he succeeded in captivating the affections of a daughter of his em- ployer. Mr. Leffingwell was at first very wroth, and made considerable opposition to the match,but *Thi« Christopher Lefflngvrcll was th« direct descendant of that Thoma* Ltfl\ngwell of Saybrook, Connecticut, who had the houor of rescuing by his bravery the celebrated Dncaa, with his remnant of Mohicans, from the power of the Narr;\gan8etls, in the bloody warbetween the ludians of this last tribe and the new settlers, the English, about the year 1660 ; and who received afterwards, asatestimony oi gratitude from that renowned warrior, the grant of land, by deed, of all that tract upon which the town of Norwich now stands. New-Eng- land ie under lasting obligations to the name of Leffingwell. The circuiristan- eta were these. IJncas, who with his band_wa« fighting in defence of the whites, got hemmed in, in a place of imminent danger, at some distance from Saybrook, but found HKansto send a messenger to that place to ask the English thereto come to his relief. Th»ir whole force had left the place, in another direction, except those left to guard the fort. But Thomas Leffingwell formed the bold plan of coiivey- ibgthe whole band acrosi into the fort, in the course of the night, in his canoe, and i^iuaUy accompliihed it ; and when the ferocious Narragansetts came upouthfir poet, in the moniiitg. b«hold tlioy were gone ! all safely gicirsd inte the Kiiglish fort at Saybrook. 'Vi^e manteuTre mrued the tiUoof war. AN AUTHENTIG NARRATIVE. 75 upon being assured by hia daughter that she was firmly and imraoFcably attached to Cornell and eould never be happy with any other man, the old gentleman gare up the conteit, and suffered the union to take place without further opposition. His daughter removed after marriage to Vermont, where her children were born ; and here she wn destined to taste the bitterness of an ill assorted union. Her husband it seemed had formed the design, and it very soon developed, to be support-- ed from his father-in-law's funds, which were sup- posed inexhaustible, and himself to be a gentleman at large. In pursuit of this determination h« worked upon the feelings of his wife to get her to draw money from her father. Mrs. Cornell, who was one of those gentle, unresisting characters that knew not how to contend, iuffered herself for some time, though sorely against her feelings, to be influenced to this, and repeatedly drew large sums of money from her indulgent father, to sup- ply her husband's demands, until at length the old gentleman resolutely refused to advance anymore, upon which Cornell carried his wife and ehildren to her father's house, and leaving them, quit the country,and relieved himself forever from the task of supporting a woman whom he had probably married without the least sentiment of affection whatever, and abandoning the children in their helpless infancy, whom the laws of God, and the laws of the land both required him to support. What was the situation of Mr. Leffingwell's estate at his decease, we do not know, orwhethor he sup- posed he had bestowed enough upon this daughter; but certain it is that although the rest of the family were in easy circumstances, if not affluent, she and her family were poor, and she and her ehildren 76 FALL RIVER, found a home with some of their relatives, and ap- pear to hare looked chiefly to their own exertions for support. They were separated, being all brought up at different places, and not even know- ing one another for several years. The unfortu- nate girl who is the subject of this memoir was in the same house with her mother until about eleven years of age. She then went to live with a Mrs. Lathrop of Norwich, her mother's sister. With her she continued until fifteen years of age, and then went to learn the tailor's trade, where she staid two years, and then for a time resided with her mother in Bozrah, a short distance from Nor- wich, working at her trade. During her residence at the house where she learned her trade, her mind appeared for the first time called up to attend to religion. There was at the time a great reformation, as it is termed, in the neighborhood — that is, there was a great stir about religion, and much going to meeting, and many professing, of which number doubtless many con- tinued steadfast ; but in a time of such general ex- citement it is known there is a great deal of self- deception. The quick feelings and sanguine tem- perament of S. M. Cornell were calculated to mis- lead her, and it was not long before she rushed with the multitude to the altar of baptism, joining herself in christian communion to the congrega- tion of the Rev. Mr. Austin, a Calvinistic congre- gationalist. No reproach can with justice attach itself to a clergyman in such cases, unless they are hurried iwto such a profession without any time for trial, which was not the case in this in- stance. Man cannot look into futurity and tell who will prove steadfast and who will not, and if a rational person makes a good profession of faith, AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE 77 and avoirs a resolution to lead a christian life, the minister is bound to receive them, unless he know* somelhing^ in their present character and conduct at variance with their professions. For two years she continued steadfast, and it was said a bright example in outward conduct ; yet nevertheless the seed had fallen on stony ground, where the earth was not of sufficient depth to foster it. A season of declension succeeded it. Lightness and vanity again took possession of her imagination. A passion for dress at this time seemed to b« a predominant feeling, and that passion she was obliged to set bounds to, because she had not th« means of gratifying it. It was at this unfortunate season, the only one it is believed in her existence when the same temp- tation would have had the same weight, that her mother brought her to Providence. Her older sister lived there with a relation who had brought her up ; and these two sisters, separated for many years, had long desired a reunion. That wish, so natural was at last indulged, and like most of our earnest desires for earthlv gratification, indulged to their mutual sorrow. Introduced for the first time since childhood into the temptations and al- lurements of a commercial town, those feelings of childish vanity, and love of dress, and show, and ornament, which had been growing upon her for some time, seemed completely to get the mastery, and being often in the shops where those articles for which she had so lon^ sighed presented them- selves before her — she at length possessed herself of some of them, trifling indeed in amount, but destined to prove her entire destruction in thig world as respected character and every thiHgels©. Though the whole of these articles purloined in 7* 78 FALL RIVER a moment of lightness, of thoughtlessness and temptation, did not exceed in amount but a very few dollars, it was immediately discovered, and the avenger was close upon her heels. Unused to crime, her manner at the time was so singular and agitated as to excite suspicion in the store, and she was followed to the house of one of her rela- tives, where the articles were found — not exceed- ing five dollars in amount, and several very small trifles beside, which slie immediately told of, and where she got them, and her friends sent them to the gentlemen, and offered to pay all damages,&-c. to both ; they exacted nothing however but the amount of the goods. The grief and agitation of the poor girl vented itself in repeated tits of hys- terical laughing and crying at the time, and in the bitterest self-accusation afterwards, when she seemed fully to realize what she had done, and could those gentlemen have known the effect that disgrace was to have upon her future destiny, doubtless they would have preferred to have lost ten times the amount rather than have exposed her. Be that as it may however, the fact that she did purloin these articles is certain, and I have it in express charge from her nearest kindred, her kind brother and sister, not to attempt to conceal it, but in every thingasfar as I can discoverthe truth to make it manifest. They knew of this delinquency in their sister by her own confession ; she did not attempt to deceive them, and they knew of no other instance of the kind of her offending ; they knew by the same means, viz, her own confessions, of her intercourse with Avery, and they know of no other person with whom they believe her to have been criminal. But to go back to the story.* *Someof the people so violent in denoimcing this poor girl, at the time, were AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 79 The open, candid manner in which they had behaved themselves, and the keen distress of the offender herself, certainly induced them to hope she would not be publicly exposed, but by some means or other it was immediately communicated to town and country. For this they were not pre- pared, far less did they anticipate that this circum- stance would be brought up in a coui\ of justice, eleven years after, to prove that she killed herself, to be avenged on a man who had exposed her mis- conduct, when she had not even shewn resentment towards them. That this was the only sin of the kind — the only instance of dishonesty that could be brought up against S. M. Cornell, must be believed by every one who ever saw the famous trial of S. M. Cor- nell, denominated on the title page, " Trial of E. K. Avery." For had there been another thing of the kind known against her — a wit observed as *' heaven, earth and hell were ransacked for wit- nesses," it must have made its appearance. On the contrary, she was afterwards often remarked for the punctuality and exact regularity of her dealings. The writer of these pages knew a mil- liner with whom she had very considerable deal- ings at Lowell, and to whom she was often indebt- ed, and who remarked " that she was the most punctual person in the payment of her debts she had ever known, as she seemed to have a principle of honesty about discharging a debt the very day she had promised the money, and always bore in mind the exact sum she owed." running crazy after a new preacher then in town, who, they affirmed, was one of the greatest saints living ; as he had done every thing bad— murder excepted. Among other things, he had been a thief, they said. Not thinking that any particular recommendation in a preacher, we had not the honor of hearing him ; but we recollect remembering, at the time, the old adage, " one man may steal a horse, while another man cannot look over his shoulder." 80 FALL RIVER, It appears that the connexions of S. M. Cornell generally, with the exception of her mother, and her kind hearted sister, meant to make her feel the full extent of the offence she had committed. It does not in the general way require much to set rich relations against poor ones — but here was ample room for feelings of superiority over poor, fallen human nature. Some of her connexions shut the door in her face when she called to see them afterwards — and for the most part they man- ifested a very proper detestation of her offence, by displaying proper resentment, ^^he returned to the country and resumed her employment, but the story got there before her. She had relinquished her former employment of tailoring and gone to work in a factory. Here she was now regarded with a degree of suspicion, painful in the extreme to a person of her natural pride, and she quit the place and went to another, but being dissatisfied with the employment, again resumed her sewing, and went to live with a merchant tailor in a neigh- boring town ; she continued in his employment some months, when the story reached the family that she " had been talked about,^^ which caused them to watch her with scrupulous regard. There was a young gentleman then in the neighborhood who used to go often into the shop, and frequently sit down by her and converse, sometimes in an un- der tone, and sometimes he would invite her to take a walk of a pleasant evening, and she would go with him. This circumstance, as he was a young and unengaged man, and she very pretty, would probably of itself have caused no suspicion, had not the saying that she had been talked about been so often repeated. She did not board with the family who employed her, but in the family of AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 81 a respectable physician on the other side of the way : and being convinced by the circumstance just related, joined to the saying that she had been " talked about," though they did not exactly know for what, that her character was not good, the wife of her employer took it upon her to dismiss her ; and sending for her to come in, begun by accus- ing her of "imposing herself upon their society when her character was not good;" and having said all she judged necessary on that head, she formally dismissed her from their employment. During all this time the poor, persecuted girl only opposed tears to the reproaches heaped upon her. She knew that she had, by one indiscretion, by one violation of that command, " thou shalt not covet any thing that is thy neighbor's," brought reproach upon her good name ; and she probably thought they knew of it, and said nothing because she could not bear to hear it named. She only asks permission to remain until next day, when the stage would pass, which was granted. " To this day," said the lady who had vented these re- proaches, "to this day, my conscience reproaches me for the harshness with which I spoke to her, when memory recalls the tears she shed, and her meek, forbearing manners, and I must say, that she had the meekest temper, and one of the mild- est and sweetest dispositions I ever met with." She added, that that very night a relation of theirs who was then very ill in their house, was distress- ed for a watcher, they having sent half over the neighborhood for one without success ; which S. M. Cornell hearing of, immediately offered to watch with her, and though they were ashamed to accept of her services, they were constrained to ; and that she was so kind and attentive to the sick, 82 FALL RIV^R, that the woman after her recovery often enquired after her, saying, " she was the kindest and best person to the sick, she ever saw." From this place it appears she went to Slaters- ville, Rhode-Island, and commenced working again in tlie factory ; soon after which, a Mr. Tay- lor, a Methodist, commenced preaching there, and here again there was a great stir about religion. Mr. Taylor was one of their popular preachers, there was a great reformation, and S. M. Cornell, who had for some time given up the idea that she had ever possessed religion, was once more awakened ; and having, by some means or other, became persuaded that immersion was the only Scripture way of baptism, felt desirous to be re- baptized. After a profession of faith and going through all the preliminaries, she was accordingly immersed ; and the Methodist meeting, who pro- fess to believe that water administered in any form, in the name of the Trinity, is baptism, and who baptize in both ways themselves, had no hesita- tion in rebaptizing her. However, that is of mi- nor consequence to Avhat followed. She continu- ed in fellowship with them, it appears by her let- ters, during her stay in Slatersville, which must have been over two years ; for she staid there until the factory burnt down, and then of course had to depart in search of employment. With several others she removed to the Branch factory, a few miles off. Here she staid until the water becom- ing very low, there was not steady employment, when she removed to Millville, to the satinett fac- tory. From this place, only about a mile and a half from Slatersville, it will be seen by her letters, she attended her beloved Methodist meeting at Slatersville, and appears to have felt great joy at AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 83 finding herself so near there again. No person can read her letters and suppose she feigned what she wrote. Just before her leaving Smithfield, i. e. Slatersville, Mr. Itawson, her brother-in-law, w^ent and carried her brother, who had been absent several years at New-Orleans, to visit her, and in- quired of the family where she boarded, "how Maria got along ?" " Very well indeed," was the reply, " and much engaged in religion," they ad- ded, " and set a very good example." While at this place her zeal in the cause of meetings continued. It appears she was in the habit of walking down to Slatersville, on all oc- casions, to meetings ; and that in the prayer meet- ings as well as those for exhortation, she usually took a part, and was called an active member. We do not know whether she was censured at this time, but this fact we do know from letters in our possession, that she was in the habit of corres- ponding Avith Methodist sisters at this time, and subsequent* to it, who were highly spoken of for piety and consistence. We have some directed to this last place, and they address her as " worthy sister," and solicit an interest in her prayers. It had been the intention of Maria (by that name she was generally called) to return to Slatersville as soon as the new manufactory should be com- pleted, and never to leave the people with whom she was connected there until death, but unfor- tunately the works did not keep pace with her im- patience ; she disliked the woollen factory where she worked at Millville, and one of the girls who had been a favorite companion and sister in the church persuaded her to go to Lowell, and de- claring her determination to go there first, which she did not however do immediately, as Maria 84 FALL RIVER, came to Providence to visit her -friends, or more particularly to visit her dear mother; and after staying some little time in Providence and Paw- tucket, received a line from her friend urging her again to go to Lowell, and naming a place on the road, where they would meet on a certain day provided she would comply. The place was in Dedham, and , here they concluded to remain, but there being no Methodist meeting, she became discontented, and after four weeks residence there proceeded to Dorchester. What caused all this delay in going to Lowell is not known, unless some guardian spirit interposed and delayed her pro- gress to the place which was to consummate her destruction. During the time of her sojourn in the towns already mentioned, at several different times she received attentions from some young man, who she thought and others thought wished to marry her. Many young men make a practice it is well known of amusing themselves at the ex- pense of young women who are apparently with- out friends and natural protectors to call them to account for such baseness and compel them to act honorable. S. M. Cornell had the curse of beauty, and she was not without admirers. She was natu- rally of an affectionate and confiding disposition. Her manners too, all partook of that character of fondness for which she has been so unjustly cen- sured. She loved her mother and sisters, and her letters bespeak any thing but a depraved heart. It is an indisputable fact that an abandoned wo- man is without natural affection, and we see that she was the very reverse of this. Her letters she did not even know would be preserved. Little could the poor, unfortunate girl have dreamed of the use here made of them : they were only to AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 85 meet the eye of her sister and her aged and bow- ed down mother. It seemed as though her affec- tions sought constantly for some object upon which to repose themselves, for something to lavish that tenderness upon with which her heart was over- flowing. Disappointed in her first choice (which has been basely insinuated was her sister's hus- band, a tissue of falsehoods from beginning to end) disappointed in those schemes of earthly happi- ness upon which her heart had once been set, she strove to forget all but her duty, and to love God alone : nevertheless, there were times when she could not help, s-ituated as she was, desiring some respectable connexion and decent settlement in life ; and it is believed that she received the atten- tions of several young men who professed to her honorable attachment, with the laudable object in view of obtaining such settlement. .How different her fate would have been could she have been set- tled in life and tied to the duties of a wife and mother, v/e cannot now say, but the probability is she would have made a very respectable figure in society, and a much better wife than ordinary, owing to the natural docility of her disposition, her perfect habitual good nature, and forbearance and forgiveness. But the waywardness of her destiny prevented, and perhaps the providence of God, which sometimes ordains partial evils to pro- mote some universal good, ordered it otherwise. The religion of this ill fated girl, it will be seen by her letters, was a religion of feelings and frames. Though there is no doubt it was sincere, yet it was of that unstable kind that is most apt to fail when most needed. She had engaged in it in a time of high excitement, and its existence was preserved — while it was preserved — by constant 8 86 application of the means which created it, viz : by frequent attendance on those exciting meetings where highly wrought feeling and sometimes hys- terical affection is often mistaken for devotion. While there, there is no doubt she thought herself in the enjoyment of religion ; and v/hen out, the mind and spirits, by a natural reaction, would suf- fer a correspondent depression, and the same stimulus must be again resorted to. it will be ob- served that the style of the letters, w^hich follow this slight sketch, varied materially after a year's residence at Lowell, and were less frequent. Pre- vious to this date, during a residence of more than a year in Dorchester, and the one year that suc- ceeded in Lowell, religion seemed to be the chief subject of her correspondence ; soon after which, it is evident the subject, for some reason or other, flagged : and her last letters, few and far between, do not even make mention of the subject. That there was a cause for this, no one can doubt. She could write of it when in the confusion of a board- ing house, as she says, with " sixty boarders," and sometimes, nearly "all gabbling at once." But something has happened to damp her zeal now, or conscience whispers. " Thou that preachest to others, art thou a castaway ?" That she felt the want of a friend, that she de- sired one, is something so natural and proper that we cannot blame her for it. And that the w^arm tide of her affections sought for rest on some ob- ject was no fault of hers, but that they should have centred at last on a married man, was shocking indeed. That man was her minister, the person who broke the sacramental bread, and presented the sacramental cup, was an aggravation of her crime, a henious aggravation. Although it is to AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 87 be presumed one of that sacred character might have more influence over the opinions of a person than any other ; yet any attempts at famiiiarity ought to be doubly offensive in such, since it proves at once that he is a hypocrite. As to the opinion of attachments on the part of iS. M. Cornell towards her minister, we ground it on these facts. First, by her letters themselves ; not merely because they slsow a decline in reli- gious zeal at the time when we believe it commen- ced, but from this circumstance : — that the name of Avery is never mentioned by her in any of them. She appears to speak with freedom of other per- sons, and other ministers ; of Mr. Taylor^ Oath- man, Maffit and others, but his name she studious- ly avoids. She was not only three years at Low- ell, the greater part of which time she sat under his d;iijy a:.-.] ni^jhrly ministrations, but she heard him at Great Falls and in other places in the neighborhood of Boston. Yet his name never es- capes her pen. There must be some reason for this. As has been said, she seemed to contrive to be somewhere within the range of his preaching from the first of her acquaintance with him. — Whether it was by her contrivance or his howev- er, it is impossible for us to say, since she cannot tell, and he wont tell. How the intimacy com- menced, and whether it was of a criminal nature previous to the Camp-Meeting at Thompson, we believe no one has taken upon themselves positive- ly to say ; but from what is related of the circum- stances of their intimacy, every one can judge. — The parson, it is said, was a very polite man to females, frequently inviting some one of them to ride to a meeting or an evenino- lecture with him in his covered Carryall, and that he sometimes did 88 FALL RIVER, the deceased the honor of riding with her. It will be recollected that at the Bristol examination Averv or some of his friends staled the fact that S. M. Cornell had lived a short time in his family, but that Mrs. Avery was not satisfied with her, and she had been dismissed. At the time the sheriff passed through Lowell in pursuit of Avery, after his flight from justice, he learnt some very important particulars respect- ing this and others connected with it, and after- wards proposed laying it before the court upon his trial, but was told they were inadmissible, since it was not any particular act of impropriety in the prisoner's life, previous to the commission of the crime for which he stood indicted, but his general character, which they wished to know, and which could alone in this case be considered as evidence. And as the sheriff was not prepared to prove that his general character, or that of any other preach- er, was that of a rake, he of course kept it back : some of this found its way afterwards into the pub- lic papers of the day, and upon examination, the facts appear to be these. Fii-st, that S. M. Cornell was a resident in the family of E. K. Avery about a week, and that dur- ing that time he used to come out of her room after ten o'clock at night ; and that the family, on being questioned upon the subject, gave as a reason " that she was ill, and sent for him to come in and pray with her." Secondly, that his wife, though habitually a mild, forbearing woman, on this occasion rose, and positively declared " she would not have the girl in the house any longer," when she went away. Thirdly, that it was customary for him to be shut in his study with some young woman or other ai- AN AUTHENTIC KARJlATirE. 89 most every day; sometimes several, in the course of the day. Very seldom any of these were seen by his wife ; but that unfortunate woman was often seen with eyes red and swollen, as though she had recently been in tears ; and though used to speak mildly, she never mentioned the name of S. M. Cornell but with evident resentment and bitterness of feeling, even after she had gone from there. Fourthly, that he was in the habit of keeping very late hours ; being out without his wife ; and giving no satisfactory account of himself, not even to the family in the house, whose rest he often disturbed, by obliging them to sit up for him, as they did not feel safe to retire and leave the front door unfastened : that on one occasion, after re- turning from their own prayer meeting, at nine o'clock, (the time such meetings usually close,) and setting up* for Avery until after eleven, they retired, and Irj behaved with most unbecoming passion, beating and banging the door as though he would stave it in, and that the ovt^ner of the house hurried to let him in as quick as possible, and then retreated ; when Avery entered, flung the door too, and snatching the key from the lock, carried it to his chamber. The master of the house followed him, and made him return the key. These things, together with others of an aggravating nature determined the family not to reside any longer under the same roof, but having a chance to sell the house, they removed and left him in it. That it was not wholly on account of his late hours, so unbecoming in a clergyman, but on account of other things which they disliked ; one of which was the frequent closetings with ♦Nothing- of ihissort is credited by the author, or mentioned, without Btiffi- ciem prool, Bliouict it be ceceeaary, thoat proofs cau be conuiig forthwuh. 90 FALL RIVER, youngwomen in the study, which stood at the head of the stairs and contained a bed ; and was rather remote from the sitting room and lodging room of his wife, having to pass through the front entry and front room, and a passage way, to get to the kitchen v/here Mrs. Avery usually staid and lodged. We do not place so much confidence in other things coming from a child, as they did, children being so prone to exaggerate and misrepresent ; yet it appears the little boy of Avery, after having accompanied him on one of his rides, said on his return, " Pa kissed Sarah Maria Cornell on the road ;" and that the feelings of the gentleman in the house were considerably tried upon observingat one time a wonderful alteration in the horse usu- ally rode by him. His little boy accounted for it, by saying, that " the horse kicked his father, and he drove two spikes into the floor and tied his heels down, and kept him there tw * days without anything to eat or drink.* Of course, much was said respecting this man which was false : there is no one so base but may, after all, be slandered. For instance, the story of the mysterious and sud- den death of his first wife must have been alto- gether false, for we cannot find that he ever had but one wife. There is enough of what justly belongs to this unhappy man, without any effort of imagination to add to it. We have but one remark to make respecting the intimacy at the house, which is, that if an in- trigue commenced at his own house, at that time; that if it was indeed true she used to send for him at that hour of the night to com^e to her room and * It appears that Avery is still famous for his trpatment of horses. Few of his cloth would be seen to stop in the open street, get ont, take his coat off, anil beat a horse in the manner he has receiitly dune m Bristol. "The merciful manis merciful to his beast." Though the storv of the bovm'ehtbe correct, yet it was said the appearance of the horse warranted the conclusion that it was so. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 91 pray with her, she courted destruction, and might almost be said to deserve the fate it is supposed she met with at his hands. If, on the contrary, he stole into her room, without an invitation, the case might be a little different. That he Avas there, I suppose to be a fact. That she cherished an un- consmon regard for him, criminal as that affection was in her case, was evinced, as Doct. Wilbour observed, "by the absence of resentful feelings." It was strange indeed, if she had suffered the in- jury she complained of, at the Camp Meeting, without manifesting any resentment afterwards, she should, on the contrary, uniformly speak of him and his family with tenderness, and above all things seem not to desire to expose him. It maybe en- quired if this U'^ere the case, why did she leave that little bitof paper to direct, if she was missing to en- quire of him? To that we answer, that our heav- enly Father has im.planted a something within us, that never fails to warn us of approaching danger: some call it "a presentiment of evil." But in her case there was something to fear exclusive of any resentment: that was, if her tale was true — if she had once had poison recommended her, and been warned by him who told her not to take it, neither to go to Bristol, nor to put herself in his power, but to have him come to her fairly and honourably, and settle it — if she had received this warning, she could not but have some fear. It was neither fair nor honourable in the first place, to ask a female to go to that cold, lonely place on a dark evening. She knew, probably, it was a fearful thing under such circumstances, or indeed under any, to go there to an assignation. The dark deep waters of Mount Hope bay rolled be- low, and it would have been easy to give one 92 FALL RIVER, plunge there, as to have poured down a dose of tansy oil. That she had peculiar feelings of regard for this man may be inferred from the speech she made to Benjamin H. Saunders also. It does not appear there was any positive proof of any thing criminal in her conduct while at Lowell, by any testimony on the trial, if we except the testimony of the physician before named. It seems S. M. Cornell was expelled from meeting while absent at a Camp Meeting on Cape Cod; and Avery tells, "that he advised her to go away while the process was going on against her :" but if the complaint was made against her previ- ously, it was the heighth of impudence, to say no more of it, to suffer her to go to such a place, where the facilities for vice are so great. There cannot be, perhaps, exhibited, a greater proof of superstition, than the offer of this girl to make an acknowledgement, to the meeting of whaif she, at the same time, solemnh' declares herself to be in- nocent of, merely for the sake of being in church membership: for it was upon those conditions she offered it. As though to be out of the pale of the church was to be excluded from salvation. Her own words were said to be these, in a letter to Avery, where she gives a circumstantial and satisfactory account of her interviews with the physician: — "Yet I will confess all, if I can only be continued in the church." Some suppose that the desire to be near a certain minister of that church was the great inducement, and that for his sake, or for the sake of being near him, she was willing to endure any disgrace, and would have signed any thing but her death warrant. — There is one anecdote, which has been related to AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 93 the vrrlter of this, which proves she could not }rave been the abandoned creature represented previous to this. S. M. Cornell, at one of the places where she lived, worked in the employ of two brothers, partners in an establishment. — Something had been said in their hearing about her not being prudent; and the oldest formed the resolution to fmd out how far her imprudence ex- tended. He accordingly put himself repeatedly in her way, and at last insulted her with the decla- ration of his passion, which she resented jfirmly, and with some bitter reproaches. (They were both Hnarried men.) The older confided the aflair to the younger, v/ho felt piqued to try himself. He accordingly commenced a regular siege : but in the moment when he thought himself sure of success, met with a still more severe repulse than his brother. Upon comparing notes, they agreed it was only because they were married men; but as they felt somewhat in her power, concluded that it was not prudent to have her there. They accordingly gave her a hint her services were no longer wanted after which, being questioned with xespect to her departure, said "she waaj-ather too fond of young men:" though, as the gentleman s^nid who related this and who, being in their em- ploy, overheard the conversation between them, when they agreed to get rid of her, "he did not know what proof they had of her being fond of yoinisc men^ except that she did not like old ones.^^ Various anecdotes too have been related to the author respecting the charity, kindness of heart and gentle disposition of S. M. Cornell: but they would swell this volume beyond the bounds al- lotted to a work of this kind. Suffice it to say, that from all accounts, it appears her hand was 94 ever open to the suffering poor, according to her slender means ; that she was liberal to the society of which she was a member, and who did not dis- dain to receive of the pittance which her labour produced, towards promoting Methodism, what- ever they might have thought of her character; that she was kind to the sick and afflicted ; and retained a most affectionate regard towards her relatives, through the whole of her long absence from them.* From Lowell she went to Great Falls, N. H. and here the same contradiction occurs with re- spect to what was said of her. A very decent and respectable young man who boarded with her the whole time of her residence there, has testified to the author, that he never knew of any thing being said or thought there, to her disadvantage; that her conduct, and he saw her daily, was as becoming as that of any female he ever was ac- quainted with. Two respectable females too, who saw much of her during that time, testify to the same. Likewise at Taunton, where she next went, and where she had a place of considerable trust, having to keep the books of the weaving room, her character and conduct was respectable. So persons, who boarded and worked in the same room, with her, testified that "she was much made of," as he expressed it, and visited in very re- spectable company in the place. While on a visit to her brother Rawson's in * One -woman, who has been very bitter apa'nst S. M. Cornell, and helped, it appears, to injure her at Lowell, gave as a reason to the author for thinking her ba'^L, that she used to e:o up to Boston, sometimes, of a Saturday afternoon, on pretence of attending meetings "to hear good preachinc," asshe called it, and return Monday mornmg, " looking completely exhausted ind worn out." I was amazed to hear such a reason given, knowing it must be great f-sertion, after tending three or four looms throug'' the week to ride t:ventv-five miles Saturdry evening, or afternoon, and then attend four or five meeiirrg^ on the Sabbath and ride back again next mornitig. Tiiat, 1 have no doubt, was the fact ; and if there is any female able to endure it, without feeling fatigac and exhaus- tion, and shewing it too, they musl'be hardy indeed. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 95 Woodstock, it was remarked that her conduct was strickly proper by the young men working with her brother, as well as by other members of the fam.ily ; by customers at the shop and visitors at the house ; and especially by Mr. Cornell, the Congregationalist clergyman, who, living quite near, was often in, and held frequent dialogues with her upon the subject of Methodist principles and discipline, for which she, of course, was a great stickler, and they obswved, defended the cause with considerable skill.* Previous to the fatal Camp Meeting, at Thomp- son, it seems her conduct there was without sus- piciovi ; and could she have rested content with- out another interview with Avery, it is probable this lasv iinal work of destruction might have been avoided. We have however the charity for her to believe, her intentions at this time to lead a new life wer<3 sincere, and that the interview, if planned by her, was only to obtain the letter of acknowledgement which it seems she had been influenced to write. That letter, she found was having a fatal effect upon her character, and what was of more consequence in her own view, was depriving her of communion with the church ; to secure which privilege she seems to have written it, expecting that the command of scripture to forgive all who confess and ask forgiveness, would be literally obeyed. By the testimony of Benja- min Saunders, who lived there and was in the habit of going to the Post Office for her, it ap- pears she corresponded with a minister in Bristol, previous to the Camp Meeting; who the minister * A paper, containing a certificate from the Rev. Mr. Cornell is mislaid ; but I recollect It testifies to th« above fact, and to his opinion of her being a christian nrerious to the communication made to him by the family, after the C«mp Meeting:. 96 FALL RIVKR was admits not of a doubt, especially as she re- quested him to keep it a secret, and by no means to let her sister know. He recollected the cir- cumstance by a speech from her highly charac- teristic ; on occasion of carrying one of theui to the office, said he, "I would not pay postage lor a minister, I should think he was able to pay it himself." She answered, " I want to help the minister^ all I can." Through all the vicissitudes of life woman vAU be woman still. Of the tenderness of woman's heart man can seldom form an idea ; here was aa instance. There can be no doubt that this girl had great cause of resentment towards the person she had been Avriting to, and very possibly she wrote in harsh terms, requiring him to c(nne, and bring that letter of acknowledgement vvith him; but come to the trial, that resentme^lt could not even enable her to lay upon him the burthen of paying the postage of a letter. No wonder she made so many objections to naming a large sum as the settlement Vv^ith her, whi9h the benevolent physician of Fall River recommended ; she could not endure the causing him inconvenience. That fatal tenderness too, doubtless betrayed her at the camp ground; perhaps, and let us in charity suppose it, she meant from henceforward to leave the path of sin, and walk in that narrow one that leads to life, and trusted to her resolutions to meet and part with him without any actions that virtue could condemn ; the sight of him put all her good resolutions to flight, and that beguiling tender- ness again plunged her into misery and irremedia- ble distress. Her only road to safety would have been in not seeing him at all. Gone was the look of cheerfulness she was wont to wear; it AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 97 was evident something pressed heavy on her heart. The sense of her crime and the dread of its consequences at length impelled her to yield to the solicitations of her affectionate sister, and confide to her the humiliating cause of her grief and anxiety; that sister who had but one heart and mind with her husband, immediately sought counsel of him. "What to do, or how to conduct themselves in such a strange case they scarce knew, and the brother finally resolved to ask ceunsel of his pastor, and subsequently of another friend, an attorney in the neighbourhood. They advised her immediate removal into the State of Rhode-Island where Avery resided; and the brother feeling a delicacy about her remaining in the shop where his young men were, willingly acceded to the plan. She herself proposed to go to Fall River and work there in a factory while able to work, and until he should make some pro- vision for her. Here she lived for about two months without reproach or suspicion, being per- fectly correct, as every one supposed who saw her, in her conduct. In the respectable house where she boarded, and where there was a small family consisting of females, she was much be- loved, having won their regard by the gentleness of her manners and the apparent amiability of her temper. To the daughter of this family in particular, she was in the habit of speaking with some confidence, when she showed those cele- brated letters of different colors mentioned in the trial. This young lady remarked the pink and yellow ones appeared to be written by different hands, and that one looked like a lady's hand — and that S. M. Cornell answered, '*but they are both written by one hand, by a gentleman in 9 98 FALL RIVER, Bristol." This answer the witness was about to repeat in court, when she was stopped by the prisoner's counsel. She, (S. M. C.) told them several times that she was only waiting for some money she was expecting to receive, when she should leave Fall River. The flutter of spirits, which made her on the last day of her life more cheerful than usual may be easily accounted for. She came out of the mill early and changed her clothes, and then probably wrote that little strip of paper, "If I am missing enquire of Rev. E. K. Avery." Her habitual politeness never deserted her; even then v/hile drinking tea, which was got early for her at her request, she said, " It is not very polite for me to be drinking tea here alone I know, before the rest, but I am in such a hurry," and turning to the oldest sister, she said as she went out, "I think I shall be back as soon now, as Lucy returns from the factory." Alas! she returned no more. CHAPTER VI. Of the birth, parentage and early life of E. K. Avery, we know nothing, except that we are in- formed he was the son of a revolutionary soldier ; if that be the case every one must rejoice he was spared the fate that threatened him in May, 1833. It would indeed be a kind of blot upon the his- tory of the brave defenders of our soil, that one of their children should come to such an igno- minious punishment, since it is the disgrace that constitutes the evil with men, though with God it AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 99 is the sin. We are sorry to say we have so little account of the early years of a man who has made so much noise in the world ; but from the time we can get any thing of his Piistory, there seems to be something in almost every place that goes to prove him a bad tempered, daring and unprin- cipled man. As to his person and address we know nothing of them, but we conclude they must be extremely imposing, at least to the people he is among, since he seems to have been approbated and upheld by them on all occasions, except one ; it seems he has been baffled once, and that was by a woman. Report says he studied the science of medicine, previous to his becoming a preacher, but whether he ever commenced practice previ- ous to the 20th of December is not known; we have not heard of any of his performance since that date. The first we knew of E. K. Avery he is preach- ing in Duxbury, Mass. and from thence he re- moved to Scituate, Mass. in 1827, and took charge of the Methodist society in that place. — Among the people who now sat under his minis- try was a maiden lady of about five and forty, who sustained a very high reputation for piety as well as for what they style her gifts. She was one of those active, useful women, whose exer- tions were always called in, and always freely be- stowed, wherever distress of mind or body requir- ed relief of any kind. The young resorted to her for counsel, and the established christian for en- couragement. She was as report said, not only a woman active in meetings and by the side of the sick and the dying, but what is extremely dif- ficult, she supported on all occasions, a character for consistency that went far to make her labors 100 successful. Of course the new minister soon dis- covered the real character of this lady ; he not only heard her praises from every quarter, and witnessed her zeal, but he was also enabled to ap- preciate her excellence by personal acquaintance. She was evidently a woman of great spirit natu- rally, but so humble and subdued by the influence of real piety, that the very belief that this was the case could not fail in a sensible and candid per- son to increase respect for her. Slie was not a woman of dependant circumstances by any means, so there was no way to torture her or try her dis- position that way ; she was past the bloom of youth if not the meridian of life, and thought not of conquests — of rivalship and admiration ; so there was no way to pique her in those — but humbled she must be, something must be done to try her temper until she proved herself mortal and no better than other folks. The new minis- ter took a terrible dislike to her from the very first. He thought " the people put [too much confidence in her," and averred " that he would see she was not made a goddess of." Whether her deportment was such as to shame some — a standing reproach to some others, who ought at least to be as consistent, or whether he thought others would rise higher if he fell, or whether she was one of those provoking women who have the faculty of reading characters at a glance, or from whatever cause we cannot say, but certain it is, the Rev. E. K. Avery labored from the first of his going to Scituate to distroy this woman's good name, and thereby lessen her influence; at first the dislike was only vented in a few sneering re- marks to her disadvantage?, which she immediately heard of; those remarks being wholly unprovoked AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. lOl could not fail to create a dej^ree of resentment in the object of them. During this frame it so chan- ced that the minister met her one evening at a pray- er meeting, where he happened to call just after visiting the house of a parishioner who had lately lost his wife, In the course of the conversation he observed that " the husband (who was some- what intemperate) will soon drown his sorrow." The lady upon returning to her lodgings, which was with a niece of this bereaved husband, re- peated the remark ; it was again repeated and cre- ated some little unpleasant feeling towards Avery for what they judged rather unfeeling and ill tim- ed. His (Averv's) resentment against the woman was now at its height ; he had something to seize upon, and although she blamed he-i-self exceeding- ly for her own imprudence in mentioning his ran- dom speechj and with much humility asked his forgiveness, &c. yet it nothing mollified his ire. His hatred had now broke out into acts of hostil- ity, and he commenced writing letters to various persons in Duxbury and elsewhere, to try to get her expelled from the church, but all to no pur- pose. The woman, nothing daunted stood her ground manfully, and defied him to the proof of what he had asserted, viz : " that she had been guilty of lying and unchristian conduct, and exer- cising ungodly and unholy tempers." &.c. The matter was before the parent church at Duxbury, a long time, many letters passed between Avery and Mr. Mudge, as well as with others on the sub- ject, but nothing could be proved against the wo- man, and it finally resulted in her coming off with honor, and with a certificate of her good standing. How they managed to retain Avery in his stand- ing after his failing to substantiate his charges we 5* 102 FALL RIVER, cannot tell, but that was their business. The cer- tificate made no mention of the recent trial and its result, but merely stated what thev could not avoid stating, that she was in good standing in the meeting. — It was as follows : DuxBURY, April 12th, 1831. This may certify, that Fanny Winsor, the bear- er, is a member of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Duxbury, and is recommended as such by me, the subscriber. ENOCH MUDGE, Minister in charge of said Churcli. The church now located in Scituate has since had a recommendation of Miss Winsor, from that in Duxbury, signed by Daniel Fillmore, in behalf of the church in Duxbury. Report said that the friends of the lady were not satisfied with the pro- ceedings of the meeting altogether, inasmuch as he had no censure passed on him for bringing those false charges, and that they wished her to go to law for redress, as they thought what he had said was calculated to injure not only her religious but moral character — and from a letter to Avery which she wrote in 1830, it appears she then threatened some such remedy, that is as we understand her language — The letter was as follows : To the Rev. E. K. Avery, Scituate, March 24, 1830. Sir — I address you from the purest motives of my heart, and under circumstances peculiarly ag- gravating. Your conduct towards me urges me to use my pen, which otherwise would have re- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATirE. 103 mained silent — this I do in my own defence. — The charges against me, in writing from you to brother Mudge, he informs me are three. The first relates to a circumstance that happened three years ago this month,* respecting Benjamin James. t Now look at it candidly and see if you have experienced the right spirit. As respects the case, did I not confess at the time you brought up the accusation against me in the presence of my sister Susan — that I repeated your words in- considerately, and was sorry, and said " any com- pensation you requested I was willing to make, even at your feet," and you would not | be re- conciled — does not this bespeak that you would not forgive. Reflect — what does the gospel you profess to preach say : "If we offend seventy times, and repent and ask forgiveness we should be forgiven." Are not these the words of our Saviour, whose image we ought to bear. The second charge I think brother Mudge tells me, was " indulging unholy and ungodly temper." This I am confident was a false charge, as I know of no tine whatever that I had any conversation with you, after that in my shop, in die presence of Susan, and I leave it to her if there was any thing of that manifested at that time — no, I was too much wounded in soul to indulge unholy tem- per. Your conversation towards me was like barbed arrows. What past God was a witness to, and his justice will be satisfied for he judgeth im- partially. I can say in his presence and his spirit accompanying me, I do feel clear of this charge. — I know not what you have been informed by un- * This persecution of iMiss Winsor actually continued upwards of four years. t The person who Ayery mentioned " would drown his sorrow." t Nothing- can exhibit in stronger colors the ridieuloua veneration in which they hold their ministers— at his feet truly! ! 104 holy people, that are plotters of mischief — they must see to it. The rest I think was a charge of " talking to your disadvantage." This charge is as empty of tiuth as the other: The most I have said is this. "NVhen tale-bearers have brought to me, v^hat they say, you have said, I have replied, " how can I hear such a man preach ? that bears such a spirit? No I cannot! No nor v. ill not — under existing circumstances. And I say so now, unless I view the subject differently. ^\r, the many times you have been to this place, you have not so much as changed a word with me on the subject since the time first mentioned, but if I atn rightly informed, said behind my back what you had ought to have said to my face. I am sure there has not been any time since the first awful moment but what I should have been glad to have settled the affair and buried it in oblivion. But sad to relate, you seem to lay the axe at the root of my moral and religious character by this last move. This prompts me to take proper steps to vindicate my own cause, and clear up my character. 4 I am ready to settle it upon any consistent terms short of the law, that you are willing to. But if I hear no more of you, I shall put it into the hands of one authorized to do justice to you and me. Take away our good name from among men, and you strike a deathblow to all we hold dear in this life. Take away our good name from among our brothers and sisters in the Church, and then this world will be a barren wilderness. But one thing — no weapon formed against the child of God, can take away our name from the book of life. I think defamation of character is an evil not to AN AUTHENTIC NARKATIVE. 105 be overlooked or i)assed by unregarded — therefore I feel justified in putting myself in the way to have justice.* FANNY WINDSOR. Abraham Merrill, one of those who swore in court at Newport that he knew notliing against the character or temper of Avery, was knowing to all this transaction ; we must suppose there wt^re others who had like knowledge ; and with how much truth or propriety could any one say they knew nothing against his moral cliaracter or his temper, that knew oi*such a diabolical persecution of an unoffending female, a defenceless woman, who probably was guilty of no real offence against him, or any one ; and if she had been, who is to set examples of forbearance and forgiveness of injuries, if preachers of the gospel are not ? If ministers were to commence a general dealing with all in their communions who exercise un- holy tempers, it is presumed they would have their hands full, though in this case there w^ould have been one innocent. There was testimony sufficient that she endured the bitter things so of- ten repeated to her without manifesting any thing but sorrow. That she could not consent to hear him preach may be attributed to 'principle rather than temper. The character of Avery for revengeful, angry feelings, may be gathered from the circumstances of the prosecution, by a brother clergyman. This was in the town of Saugus, Mass. and the circum- stances are related thus. The Congregational Society in that place were at that time destitute of * " Justice," indeed— if this injured woman and the Rev, Thomas F. Norris have not been amply avenged by a righteous God, they never ca/j be. " Surely tbereisaGod that judgeUi the earth." 106 FALL RIVER, a settled minister, and Avery, who was then sta- tioned near over the Methodist one, offered to preach for them occasionally. The offer was politely accepted, and some little time after, a Mr. Nurris, who was esteemed as a very amiable and pious man, and who was then preaching there to the Reformed Methodists, as they are called, (a sect of christians who have separated themselves from the others,) offered likewise. He too was accepted, and preached there much to the accep- tance of thecongregatiyn,who were delighted with the unassuming piety and evangelical sentiments of Mr, Norris, and asked him to continue his la- bors among them, whenever opportunity offered. The next JSunday that Avery preached there he took for his text the passage in Job — " I also will declare mine opinion," and commenced an attack from the pulpit upon the character of his brother, whom he called a thief, and some otiier very bad things ; and getting in a passion as he proceeded, went on to charge him with individual sins, which he undertook to particularize. A part of this dis- course, as related^ the writer has forgotten, but one was that he had been employed once in a glass- house, and stole ware to furnish his own sideboard. His hearers who relate the story, remark, that *' all this time his face was violent red, and he ap- peared to be in a grea t passion." The whole story was immediately related to Mr. Norris, Avho pro- ceeded to put his character in the care of the law, and prosecuted Avery for defamation of character. It was tried, and Avery was found guilty, and sen- tenced to pay a fine, bat he appealed, and it came to the second trial, when Avery appealed it, arrest- ing judgement, and taking it out of court, by pay- ing a sum of money, the amount of which we did AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 107 not learn, but our informant says several hundred dollars. The Ecclesiastic Council, as they style themselves, then took him under their protection, and issued a manifesto declaring him entirely blameless, and clearing him of all censure. After the examination at Bristol, some of the his- tory of this transaction got to Fall River, and a copy of the examination was forwarded by some one to Rev. Mr. Norris, asking for the copy of the trial at East-Cambridge. The amazement and in- dignation of Mr. Norris and his friends, at finding the Merrills had sworn his character was unsullied, &LC. &c. together with the belief that the public ought to have the facts, induced them to publish the following manifesto, which was forwarded to Fall River, without the copy of the trial. That document he states was sent to the Governor of this state. No Governor of this state has received it, and by what means it miscarried is not known, but it is something that our public functionaries ought'to look into. Could it have been taken out of the mail between here and East Cambridge ? If this book should fall into the hands of Mr. Nor- ris, we hope he will himself see to it. The m^an- ifesto is as follows : TO THE PUBLIC. East Cambridge, Feb. J 833. Fellow-Citizens, — I have frequently been solici- ted for a copy of the trial and verdict in the action before the Supreme Court, at its session in Cam- bridge, last winter, against E. K. Avery, but have hitherto denied. — Those solicitations becoming more numerous and pressing, on seeing the strange testimony of the Messrs. Merrills, at Avery's ex- 108 FALL RIVER, amination before justices How and Hale, I have permitted some of the friends of justice to publish a few statements on the case, with some animad- rersion on the evidence given by the Merrills, at Avery's examination as published by L. Drury. I feel no resentment towards E. K. Avery, and I write more in sorrow than in anger — sheer neces- sity compelled me to shield myself from his asper- sions behind the strong arm of the law. And what appears like an attempt to cover crime and screen the guilty, by men in holy office, seems to render it proper the community should have facts. The verdict of the jury with their names, signed by the clerk of the judiciary, has been forwarded to the Governor of Rhode-Island. Avery has paid me one hundred and ninety dollars on the verdict, and paid his own costs, which probably amounted to as much more, as he summoned many witnesses. His friends offered in consideration of the abate- ment made him, to obtain his confession and re- traction, to one of whom I returned the following written answer : — In respect to a confession from Mr. Avery, it would be highly dishonorable in me to extort one from him. The virdict of the jury fully shields me from all possible harm from the slander of his tongue, completely nullifying its ut- most poison ; — rather ought he to humble himself before that church of which he is a member and minister, upon whose escustcheon he has brought a stain, which the good conduct of a long life can never wipe off. I respectfully asked justice of Mr. Avery, and when tauntingly refused, I noti- fied his superior, the Rev. Bishop Hedding, but obtained no redress, until I appealed, to a jury of my countrymen. Should these faets be denied by ' AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 109 responsible authority, the public shall have the trial and correspondence. The following piece was prepared by a highly respectable member of the Middlesex bar, for and at the instance of several gentlemen of the coun- ties of Suffolk, Middlesex, Worcester, &c. and is published by them ; — some expressions of com- mendation of the writer are thereby accounted for, Fellow-Citizens, your very obedient and humble sevant, THOMAS F. NORRIS. A pamphlet purporting to contain a report of the evidence given on the recent examination of the Rev. E. K. Avery, for the murder of Miss Cornell, is before the public, and much of it is clearly not legal evidence, and has no more to do with the question under examination than the history of Meg-Merilles. This is our opinion, — others may view it differently. But not caring to quarrel about mere matters of opinion, or rules of evi- dence, upon which even lawyers differ, let us no- tice a few facts. On page 30 of this pamphlet the Rev. J. A, Merrill is made to swear that he had known Avery for about 11 years, and that as far as his moral, christian, and ministerial character was concerned, it is unspotted and unblemished. True it is on a cross examination, the Rev. gentleman is forced to confess (which he s€ems to have done reluc- tantly enough) that Avery, while at Saugus^ got into a difficulty w^hich resulted in a prosecutioB against him, a verdict against him, an arrest o»f judgement, — business settled, and an ecclesiasti- cal council after the civil trial, acquitted Avery, and gave him a certificate. On page 45y Rev^ A. D. Merrill is matie to testify that he had heardi the 19 110 FALL KITER, evidence of the Rev. J. A. Merrill, and concurred with him as to the unspotted and christian charac- ter of Avery, and that the prosecution against him at Saugus resulted in nothing to impeach his- conduct. Now to us it is to the last degree surprising that these Rev. gentlemen should have testified in this wise about Avery's character and conduct. The prosecution against Avery was a civil action, in which he was charged with publishing a most false, malicious and wicked slander against a peaceable, unoffending citizen and minister of re- ligion. This charge was made in a variety of forms, Avery denied the truth of it, but notwith- standing this denial, a jury of his countrymen, af- ter a long and labored defence, in which he was aided by the most eminent council, and a host of clerical and lay brethren; and the supposed sanc- tity of his own profession, declared on oath that he was guilty. This verdict was rendered upon the evidence of Avery's own religious and personal friends ; and we have higher and better authority than the assertion of the Rev. Messrs. Merrills for saying it was a " most righteous verdict." It is true, that after this verdict was pronounced by the jury, the council for Mr. A. made a motion in arrest of judgement, on a point of special plead- ing, but even this ground was abandoned, and the matter settled before the time arrived for a hear- ing on the motion, — the object of it therefore was clearly to gain time. The slander charged upon Mr. Avery was pro- ved to be loanton, malicious^ false, and wholly unprovoked. No circumstances appeared at the trial to justify, excuse, or even palliate this das- tardly and wicked attack upon the character of AN autheintk: narrative. Ill one wlio was an utter stranger to Mr. Avery, and whose only offence was that of seceding from the great body of Episcopal Pylethodists and organiz- ing an Independent Methodist church and society in Mr. Avery's neighborhood, The object of Mr. Avery seems clearly to have been to prostrate and ruin his opponent, and thereby to destroy the christian society he had laboured to unite and build up. The Rev. Messrs. Merrills were pres- ent at this trial, heard the evidence, and knew the result; and yet have taken upon themselves to swear that this prosecution " resulted in nothing to impeach conduct.''' Has it then come, to this, tliat it is no stain upon a christian minister's moral character to be convicted of uttering falsehood and groundless calumny, and of propogating malicious islander against his brother \ Is it not robbery to take from an innocent man the dearest and best of his earthly possessions ? Is he, whose business it is to enforce the precepts of the peaceable reli- gion of the Holy Jesus, and to preach charity and all long-suffering, to gratify his own malignant passions, in traducing a brother and neighbour? Let these Reverend gentlemen look into that holy religion which they profess to teach, and see what St. Paul says of the slanderer, and what St. Peter says of the "man that brid^eth not his tongue." Can that man's moral, christian and nnnisterial character be truly said to be unspotted and un- blemished, when the records of our highest Judi- cial Tribunal show that he has been accused and convicted, of an oifence against the peace and laws of the lan-d ; against the rights of individuals, (an offence originating in malice,) and designed to blight the fair fame of an unoffending man ? Let these Rev. gentlemen settle this question for them- 3 12 FALL RIVRR, selves. Their consciences are in their own keeping. The slanderer, in the estimation of all good men, is no better than a robber or an assassin, and it will require something more than the ipsedixit of two " holy men in holy office" to overrule public opinion, the verdict of a jury or the laws of the Jand. And before the bar of public opinion, we leave the Rev. gentlemen, and Mr. Av^ry also, to receive such judgement as their respective cases may deserve. Thus far the manifesto. We will now go back to the hastory of Sarah Maria Cornell. CHAPTER VII, There is a wonderful mystery in the fact, if it be so, that this unfortunate girl should be constantly betraying herself to the Methodists, by confessions of guilt and self-accusations of sins of a most out- rageous kind, while at the same time she was en- deavoring to keep in the society, and be in fellow- ship with the members, and respected by them, striving as though her very salvation depended upon it. The trial has been published, and the evidence is before the public. Those who wished to make her appear a monster of wickedness, have continually said all that is possible to say against any individual, and said it as a certain preacher once said (when he was planing to abuse his neighbour from the pulpit) — from a place " where she cannot answer them hack again.^^ It is how- ever no more than fair that her letters should speak ;for her, and the author has been at the trouble to AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE, i13 collect all of hercorres}>ondence that can be found, consisting of sixteen letttirs written to her mother and sister, all, except one, between the year 1S19 and 1832. It will be seen by these that there is a period of more than a year when only one letter was written. This was the period immediately succeeding- her troubles at Lowell, and may be ac- counted for by the agitation of mind which such a punishment or persecution, (call it wliich we please,) must have occasioned. It appears how- ever that she was not entirely unmindful of her friends during this period, as by her last letter, da- ted March iOth, IH'32, she speaks of a pamphlet sent to Mr. Rawson. And by a letter from him to her it appears the family received one on the 1 1 th of Jan. 1831. Other letters, written at different times may have been lost or mislaid, but not by design. Her sister's family informed me that they were all of a like character, and, resem.bling her conversation, full of Methodism, and relating mostly to her religious feelings. The papers were all given up^vvithout reserve. Both hers and theirs were found among the few things at their house. The letters of her brother-in-law, Mr. Rawson, to her, are in themselves a complete refutation of any scandal propagated against him. They prove him to be what every one acquainted with him esteems him to be, a humble, plain dealing, and practical christian. They gave her excellent advice about her disposition to rove from place to place, and cautioned her of the danger, and expressed great satisfaction at her continued assurance of loving God and religion, and endeavoured faithfully to point out to her the necessity of giving herself up wholly in a life of good works, and not to rest in a mere profession. There is also among her papers 10" 114 FALL RIVER, letters from some of her Methodist sisters,expres8- ing fellowship and christian affection. One of these letters, written in 1827, from, as it appears, a pious and quite intelligent young lady, styling her worthy sister, &,c. struck me very for- cibly as being the year after what they term her " disgraceful expulsion from the meeting at Smith- field." It appears they had lived together, and been for some time in habits of intimacy, and ex- presses great desire to have Sarah Maria follow her to the place where she then was. One from another sister, dated 1829, also addresses her as a *' worthy sister," and feelingly asks an interest in her prayers, and dwells upon the seasons of reli- gious enjoyment they have had together. One was directed to her at Dorchester and another Lowell. Her letters here follow, copied verbatim. The originals are now in the hands of the author of this book, and can be seen by any one who has the cu- riosity to see them in her own hand writing. The first is dated at Norwich. (One letter, No. 1, is omitted simply because it is a child's letter, written at 12 year's old,) Letter, No. 2. Norwich, May 6tli, 1819. My dear sister — ^Having an opportunity to send directly to you I thought I could not let it pass without improving it. My sister, the time is com- ing when w^e shall prize time better than we do now, when we shall improve every moment of the short space allotted us. I have this afternoon re- ceived the parting hand of our dear cousin Harriet, aunt Lathrop's eldest daughter, she lately married Mr. Winslow a missionary — and is to embark for Ceylon, never expecting to see her beloved parents in this world ; but she is an example of christian piety, she has left her native home to go to instruct AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 115 the ignorant Heathen who sit in darkness worship- ing wood and stone.* and know not the God that made them, Let us inquire my dear sister who made us to differ ? We have the Bible and are taught to read it. Let it be our daily prayer that God would send more missionaries to the heathen, to spread the gospel to those who know it not. I am learning the Tailors trade, I have been here seven months, and expect to stay 17 more. I hope when my time is out I shall come and see you, I ex- pected to have come last fall — but was disappoint- ed. Mother is well and sends her love to you, likewise Granma — Uncles, aunts, and cousins. But where is our beloved brother, I have not seen or heard from him these twelve months, May God Almighty help guide and direct him and us, and bring us safe to heaven. Give my best love to all my friends, and you must write me as soon as you receive this — either by public or private convey- ance. We have been so long separated that we should not know each other by sight, but surely we might have the pleasure of corresponding. You must excuse this scrawling and I hope the next will be better. Adieu my dear sister I remain your ever affectionate and loving sister, SALLY MARIA CORNELL. No. 3. NoRwicH,August 26th, 1820. My dear sister — I received your letter about three weeks since but have not had time to answer it till now, being very much hurried in the shop. Mother has had two letters from our brother since I wrote you last. He was then in Natches, but has gone to Fort Gibson, and says he has very * The late Mrs. Winslow, wife of the Missionary of that name, who died late- I7 at OeyloD, was first cousin to S. M. Cornell. 1 16 FALL RIVER, good business, and shall beat home next summer if possible. Your sister M. with all your friends rejoice at the change the Lord has wrought in your heart. that he would condescend to visit your poor sis- ters heart also. There has been quite a revival here, about twenty I believe is going to join the Church next Sabbath. Our cousin Leffingwell aunt Lathrop's youngest son is very serious, a year since they could hardly persuade him to go to meeting on the Sabbath, but now he is one of the Sabbath school teachers a young lady who has had a consumption for about a year, dropt away sud- denly yesterday. When we see one and another of our friends dropping into eternity it ought to remind us, that this is not our home or abiding place. It naturally leads us to enquire was they prepared to meet death and the judgement ? The young lady I mentioned that died yesterday w^'is resigned and took leave of all her friends, and said she hoped to meet them all in a better world, she said she could bid defiance to death, and meet Jesus with a smile. O that my feelings were like hers, but alas my heart is hard, and I am as prone to sin as the sparks that fly upwards. Oh my sister pray for me, that God in his infinite mercy pour the sweet refreshings of his grace on my soul. I have almost finished my trade, my time will be out in October, and mother is making preparations for our coming to Providence this fall. Oh shall 1 behold the face of my beloved sister which I have never seen — or have no recollection of. Although we are strangers we ought not to be deprived of the privilege of writing to each other. Only think we are only forty-five miles apart and we dont hear from each other more than once or AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 117 twice a year — and our cousin Harriet is three or four thousand miles from her parents and they have heard from her four or five times, she is well and has never regretted devoting her life to a mis- sionary cause, she says if she is a means of helping bringing the heathen out of idolatry she shall be doubly rewarded. Mother Grandma Aunts and cousins send their love to you, and would be very happy to receive a visit from you. Give my love to all my friends in Providence. Oh that you and they may be useful in this world, and happy in the world to come is the prayer of your affectionate sister. SALLY MARIA CORNELL. No. 4. SozRAviLLE, May 3d, 182L My dear sister — I with pleasure resume my pen to inform you of my pleasant and happy situation. I have been at Deacon Abels all winter and have just been able to pay my board, I am now situated in a pleasant village near the factory, and between the town of Bozrah and Goshen, four miles from mother, and three from the meeting-house, we have meetings in the factory every Sabbath, and when it is unpleasent I attend. I am the only Tai- loress for two miles each way, you may of course conclude I shall be somewhat hurried with work. I wish you were here. I desire to be thankful to God for placing me in so pleasant a situation. The solemn bell has just summoned another fel- low-mortal into eternity but what is to be his fate in another world God only knows. It is just four weeks since death entered Deacon Abel's family and deprived them of a servant — a tall stout robust negro whom they had brought up from the age of two years, twenty years he lived with them, and 118 never associated with any but respectable people, as their was but one other negro in the place. Deacon Abel's family took his death very hard, he was in the vigor of health, often boasting of his strength — but when he came to be laid on a bed of sickness and the cold hand of death was upon him all his strength could not save him, he had just finished his years work, and engaged for another year, and wanted one week for relaxation, and two weeks from the day that his year was up he was carried to his grave ; the family did not consider him dangerous-^until just before he died, but he was imprest with the idea he should not recover and regretted that his life had not been better, and thought if it should please a just God to spare him he should live a diflerent one, it is not for us to say whether he is happy or miserable in another world, but his death has very solemnly impressed my mind. Sometimes I think why am I spared perhaps it is to commit more sin, perhaps for some usefulness; sometimes 1 think I am no worse than others what have I to fear but God says be ye also ready for ye know not what hour your Lord will come. How will ye escape if ye neglect so great salvation. Yesterday I heard a discourse from these words "Why halt ye between two opinions, choose you this day whom you will serve, if the Lord be God serve him, if Baal then serve him." 1 have thought seriously about this text. You will perceive by the date of this letter that it is my birth day. Nineteen years has rolled round my head and what have I done for God I If I were summoned before his judgement bar could I answer with a clear conscience to having i)er- formed my duty ? I fear I could not. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 119 I have resolved this year, to leave the world and all its glittering toys, and devote the re«t of my life to the service of God. I have searched this world for happiness, but alas I have searched in vain ; it is all a mere show — a broken cistern that can hold no water. In your last letter I recollect you harboured the idea that I was offended with you. Far be it from me to be offended with my sister — you look my letter very differently from \^'hat I intended it. 1 received a letter a few days ago from James ; he has changed his situation and will not come to Connecticut this year, therefore I shall give up the idea of visiting you this summer — a year from this time if God permits, I shall anticipate the pleasure of visiting you, but it is very uncertain. I had forofotten to mention I am boarding with one of the best of families, a pious woman and steady man. Please direct your letters to Bozrahville, to the care of David L. Dodge ; there is a post office here and it will be more convenient for me to get the letters ; write immediately on the receipt of this. I am so far from mother that it will not be conve- nient for her to write any more. Give my love to uncles, aunts, cousins, and all who inquire after your affectionate sister MARIA. P. S. Don't exhibit this scribbling to any one. S. M. C. No. 5. KiLLiNGLY, May 20th, 1822. Dear Sister — I received a letter from you soon after I came to this place, in which you murmured at my coming to the factory to work ; but I do not consider myself bound to go into all sorts of com- pany because I live near them. I never kept any 120 FALL RIVER, but good company yet, and if I get into bad is i» owing to ignorance. I have been away from home now about one year, and have found as many friends as among my own family connexions. I have learned in whatsoever situation I am in to be content, though I have not been so contented here, being far from any friend or connexion. You wrote me you thought I had better return to Norwich as soon as possible, and that you should not come to Killingly as long as I staid at this factory. You must remember that your pride must have a fall. I am not too proud to get a living in any situation in which it pleases God to place me. Remember that you have expressed a humble hope in God, and bear the christian name ; learn then to imitate the example of Him whose name you bear, and never let it be said of you that you were too proud to follow your Saviour's sieps, who was meek and lowly and went about doing good, suffering the scoffs and indignation of wicked men, and finally spilled his precious blood that you might be saved. I do not expect to find the society here that I did in Bozrahville. I have got some acquainted with Mr. A — 's family and like them very welL I miss Mr. Dodge and his family, and some other friends I left there ; shall never enjoy myself so well in any other place as I did there. Now my dear sister, there is no revival of religion here, and 1 have no class in the Sunday school here, and it cannot be expected I can enjoy myself so well. If you do not come to Killingly until I go to Norwich you may not come this year, and las- sure you I will never come to Providence first. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 121 I had a letter from our dear brother a few weeks since ; he is in New-Orleans, and he writes that he don't know when he shall return to Connecticut. I should be pleased could we all meet once more, but I don't expect we ever shall. My dear sister, may God be your guide — and may his holy spirit refresh and comfort you, and that we may both meet in heaven is the prayer of your affectionate sister, SALLY MARLl CORNELL. No. 6. Slatersville, (Smithfied,) 1824. My dear brother and sister — Almost two years has elapsed since I have written a letter or hardly a line to any one, and I scarce know what to say to my dear parent — but through the goodness of Divine Providence I am alive and in a comfortable state of health. I enjoy all the necessaries of life and many of its enjoyments. I can truly say my dear mother, that the year past has been the hap- piest of my life. I have lived in this village almost nineteen months, and have boarded in a very re- spectable family. My employment has been weav- ing on water looms ; my wages have not been very great, yet they have been enough to procure a comfortable living, with economy and prudence. I feel as though I had done with the trifling vani- ties of this world — I find there is no enjoyment in them and they have almost been my ruin. While I am writing perhaps you have long since forgotten you have a daughter Maria — but stop dear mother, I am still your daughter and Lucre- tia's only sister. God in mercy has shown me the depravity of my own wicked heart — and has I humbly trust, called me back from whence I had wandered. Although I had professed religion, and have turned back to the beggarly elements of 11 122 the world, and brought reproach upon the cause of God — and have Caused Jesus to open his wounds afresh, and have put him to an open shame — and have followed him like Peter afar off — and even denied that I ever knew him. When I look back upon my past life it looks dreary, and I feel like a mourner alone on the wide world without one friend to cheer me through this gloomy vale — but when I look forward it bears another aspect. I have been made to rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. I fee] that 1 have an evidence within my own soul that God has forgiven me, and I have an unshaken trust in God that I would not part with for ten thousand worlds. I find there is nothing in this vain world capable of sastisfying the desires of the immortal mind. But the religion of Jesus is a fountain from whence joys of the most exalted kind will for ever flow. I have enjoyed some precious seasons since I have been in this place. Though destitute of any natural friends, yet God has raised up many christian friends of different orders — all united heart and hand, bound to one home. We have a house for worship and have preach- ing every Sabbath. Sister Lucretia, by the best information I can obtain, since I saw you last you have become a wife and a mother. I want to see the dear little babe ; I hope the cares of a married life has not separated your heart from God. I believe there is something in religion that is durable ; it is worth seeking and worth enjoying, I feel as though I could enjoy myself in this life while blest with the presence of Jesus, I have found that a form of god- liness will never make me happy but I canpraise God for the enjoyment of every day's Religion — AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 123 it is that which will do to live by — and will pre- pare us for a dying hour. May God bless you and your companion, and if I never meet you in this world, may we be pre- pared to spend a never ending eternity together in the bright mansions of ghny. I want to see Mo- ther and if any of you desire to see me — write and let me know and 1 will try to come and spend a few days with you before long — but whether I ever see you again or not, I want you should for- give me* and bury what is past in oblivion and I hope my future good conduct may reward you. I heard that brother James past through Provi- dence, if he is with you give my love to him. 1 should like to see him but never expect to. Farewell in haste, yours, MARIA S. CORNELL.! The kind of self-accusation contained in the se- cond paragraph of this letter is very common among enthusiastic people when making their con- fessions of sin. 1 have heard men of integrity — and young innocent girls, get up in meeting and roundly accuse themselves of crimes — the least of which, if any other had accused them of, would have been a mortal offence. Some very sensible and intelligent persons have done this in reference to the spirituality of the law of God which makes, they say, " an angry word murder, and a wanton look adultery." (Vide Matthew v. 28.) We ought however to deprecate the custom, as it is most generally made a very bad use of. * Alluding to the affair at Mr. Richmond's and IWr. Hodges'. t When baptized by the Methodists, she took the name of Waria, but having been accused of changing her name, afterwards resumed the old manner of Bigning it. 124 FALL RIVER, No. 7. Slatersville, Sept. 6th, 1825. Friday evening half past seven o'clock. My dear sister just before the bell rung, I heard of an opportunity to send to Killingly to-morrow by Frederic Dean, who is going to carry his sister home. I was truly pleased with my visit at your house, to see you thus happy situated, with your family around you. I hope dear sister you will never have cause to grieve again on my account if I know my own heart, I desire to live so that none may reproach me, or say " what doest thou more than others ?" I have enjoyed some precious sea- sons, since I returned from camp meeting. Some- times when I think of leaving Slatersville, it strikes a dread upon me. Can I ever leave this delightful spot, where I have enjoyed so many de- lightful seasons and privileges, it seems to be a place highly favoured by God. Elder Tally preaches here half the time, he is a powerful preacher, reformation follows him, wherever he goes he draws about as many hearers as ever John N. MafRtt did, some came eighteen miles last Sab- bath to hear him. I wish you would send me word whether James has gone or not. Give my love to mother, tell her there is no small darning needles in the store. William and Eliza Nanscaven is coming up Christmas, I shall send mother's gloves by them. Remember me to Mr. Rawson, I can never be thankful enough to him for all his kind- ness to me. It is growing late and I must bid you farewell in haste, your affectionate sister. SALLY MARIA CORNELL. AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 125 No. 8. Slatersville, Dec. 18th, 1825. To Mrs. Lucretia Cornell. My dear Mother — Once more I take my pen in hand to answer a letter which I received from you not long since, in which you informed me my brother was gone. William ancl Eliza Nanscaven is going to Killingly next Saturday. I have been making calculations all the fall of coming up with them, but 1 am disappointed I have lost so much time, I have been out sick a week — and last Satur- day I went to Douglas to quarterly meeting — and Mr. Osterhold is not very, willing I should stay out of the factory so soon again. Dear Mother we have good times in Slatersville Meeting almost every evening. There are still many inquiiing the way to Zion, I have seen this summer aod fall past nearly 30 persons own Jesus by following him down into the water in the or- dinance of baptism, I have seen the aged, the mid- dle aged, and the blooming youth, the drunkard the profane and the profligate all bow to the scep- ti^e of King Jesus and say though 1 have been a great sinner I have found a great Saviour. I have reason to praise God that ever I was re- deemed by the blood of Christ, and that I was made an heir as I humbly trust of the grace of God. Join with me my dear parents in supplication at the throne of grace that I may be kept in the way, that I may never return to the beggarly elements of this vain world — but that I may adorn the pro- fession I have made by a well ordered life and conversation. I expect the Lord willing to spend my days in Slatersville* I dont want great riches * She left the factorv in Slatersville in consequence of its burning down, and went to the Branch Factory. Not being contented there, she removed after some little time to ftlenden 3lJlls. 11^ 126 nor honours — but a humble, plain, decent, and comfortable living will suit me best. You mentioned you had some yarn you would let me have, I should have been very glad of it, if I could have got it — but they bought some at the store, and I have got as much as I need at present. I wish you would send me word by William if you have heard from James, and where he is, that I may know where to write to. I received a letter since I saw you from our good friend David Austin. Rejjuember me to brother and sister Rawson. I think my friends never seemed so near to me as they do at present. I want to see little Edward very much. I expect if it is good sleighing in February, to come and spend one night with you if nothing prevents. I have no more to write but reniain your affectionate child. SALLY M. CORNELL. P. S. Excuse the blots, I am in a great hurry. No. 9. Menfon Mills, 1 mile from ij Slatersville, August 6th, 1826.4 My dear Mother — I left the Branch Factory, and came to this place about three weeks since, and am v/eaving blue Sattinet. The water was so low and filling so scarce, the weavers could not do much during the warm weather. The factory that is rebuilding at Slatersville is going up slowly. I anticipate much in returning to that delightful village and seeing it assume once more that lustre that shone so brilliantly. I received a letter from you some weeks since, in which you thought you should not probably be at home until September. I think some of going to Camp Meeting at Woodstock where I went last AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 127 year, and if I thought you and -Lucretia would be at home I should come that way and spend one night with you. Camp Meeting is appointed the 29th of this month and holds four days, some of my Methodist friends from the village mhH proba- bly go with me. I am boarding at a very still boarding house of about twenty boarders. I en- joy myself very well most of the time. I meet my brethren and friends at the village about once a week. I think much of my dear brother and sister Rawson in the afflicting dispensation with which God has been pleased to visit them. May they bear it with christian fortitude, and that it may be sancitified to their eternal good is the prayer of their sister. Give my best love to them and I should be much gratified to receive a letter from them. My own dear brother — where is he ? I have sat down several times with the intention of writing to him, but my heart has failed me, I know not what to say. If you are still at uncle M's remember me to them and tell them I am still enjoying that happiness which is the privilege of God's dear children to enjoy— feeling a desire to spend the remainder of my days in the service of Him who has done so much for me. Tell cousin Polly and my other friends in Providence, that 1 hope they will forget and forgive what is past, and I should feel very happy to receive a letter from them. I wish you would let me know when you expect to return to Killingly. In haste your affectionate daughter, MARIA CORNELL. "William and Eliza Nanscaven are going to Camp Meeting. 128 FALL RIVER, [During the period between this letter and the preceding one, S. M. C. made a visit to her friends in Providence, meeting by appointment with her mother in that place. Whether the factory in Slatersville to which she proposed to return, had gone into operation at this period, we do not know, but when she left Millville or Mendon mills it had not, and a young lady of that village had agreed to go with her to work at Dedham. The difference between weaving cotton and woollen cloth is very great, and few pf rsons accustomed to work on ihe f<3rmer like the latter. No other reason is known for the removal. T'he following letter was writ- ten to her mother and friends about six months after parting with her, at Providence.] No. 10. DoncHESTER, Mass. Sept. 25th, 1827. My dearMother Brother and Sister — After wait- ing nearly six months for a letter in vain, I take up my pen to address those of my dear friends who are near and dear to me by the ties of nature. Af- ter leaving you at Providence f came in the stage to Dedham where I found the young lady as I ex- pected from Slatersville. I went to weaving the next day at Dedham, where I staid about four weeks. I immediately wrote, as I supposed before you left Providence, but as I have received no an- swer I have reason to suppose you have never received it. There was no meeting at Dedham that I wished to attend, and I had to board where there was sixty boarders, and after four weeks I removed to this place, which is about four or five miles from the city of Boston. It is a pleasant thick settled village. There is one Unitarian, two Congregational or Calvinistic, and one Methodist meeting in this place. I have spent some time in AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 129 Boston of late. I frequently attend meeting there, at the Bromtielcl Lane Chapel. The Rev. Mr. Maffittand Merrill are stationed preachers there. Mr. Sias preaches here occasionally and I have every thing to make me contented and happy but natural connexions, I have been expecting all sum- mer to visit you this month on my tour to Ashford Camp Meeting — and had engaged a passage in the stage, but I found it would be so expensive — and I could stay so short a time — that I concluded to give it up — and go to Lunenburg with my Boston brethren. We started for that place August 28th, forty in number, in six private carriages. It is a distance of fifty miles. We had good weather all the time. Between 20 and 30 ministers were pre- sent, and about five thousand people. Nearly forty persons professed to have past from death unto life. Friday which was the last day of the meeting be- tween five and six hundred professors partook of the symbols of owr Saviour's dying love. It was a circle formed within the tents. The scene was truly affecting — it will no doubt be remembered by hundreds through time and eternity. I reside about half a mile from Mr. Oathman's father's that used to preach in Providence, he is frequently here and preaches. The good people of Dorchester have ever treated me with the great- est respect. But it is uncertain whether I spend the winter here or in Boston. I have had several opportunities to work at my trade there, in shops where the tailors hire fifteen or twenty girls to make coats and nothing else. I should like to come and work a month with Mr. Rawson if I could — but I cannot this winter, it would cost all of eight dollars to go to Killingly, and back again, and my health has been very poor this summer, 130 and I have not been able to work all the time, but through the goodness of God I am comfortable — though much has been said, and I have suffered very much from false reports in time past. 1 enjoy myself as well as I could expect among strangers, as 1 have never seen but three faces since 1 left Pawtucket* that I ever recollect of see- ing before, viz. Mr. Maffilt, Mr. Oathman and Ly- dia Knight, from Smithfield. After all that is past 1 have been sustained and upheld by the mighty power of God, and still retain a respectable stand- ing in the Methodist F.piscopal Church — and en- joy a comfortable degree of the presence of God. Dear Mother if you have any regard for me do write if it is only two lines, and direct to Maria Cornell, Milton Mass. as the Post Office in Dor- chester is several miles from me, and I should not get it in some time. Milton office is only across a bridge — I shall come and see you another summer if I live and do well. Yours affectionately, MARIA CORNELL. No. 11. Dorchester Village, March 2d. 1828. To Mrs. Cornell, Sunday noon. My dear Mother — Once more I take up my pen to write a few lines to my parents, as nearly six months have again elapsed since I have heard from you. I dont hardly feel reconciled to think so many connections and friends as I have in Connec- ticut and Rhode Island, that I cannot hear from any of them oftener than once in six or seven months. Sometimes I think they have lately for- gotten me, but I have no reason to complain, I have cause to be thankful that it is as well with * She had stopped in Pawtucket on her way down, to see some connections wsiding there. AN AUTHEISTIC NARRATIVE. 131 me as it is. I am tolerably well and in good spirits, thoDgh 1 have never been well enough to work one whole month since I have been here. My work has been very hard the winter past, and I have got almost beat oiif, I have been weaving on four looms at the rate of 120 or 30 yds. per day, at 1 half cent per yard, my board and other ex- pences are considerable here, I feel a good deal attached to the people in this place, being sur- rounded by some very dear friends, I have a very pleasant boarding house, and every thing around me to make me contented and happy. It is about one year since 1 have seen any of j^ou, though to me I^rust it has not been altogether an unprofit- able one ; my enjoyment has been great — and my privileges very many. I long to see my brother and sister, and the dear little babe, and I have been seriously thinking of visiting Connecticut the summer coming, if Mr. Rawson expects to stay in Killingly another year and it should be agreeable to you all, I think I shall come and spend a week M^th you some time in the course of the summer. You will please to let me know before the first of April, as I want to know how to make my ar^ rangements. There has been several shocking cases of sui- cide within a few months here, one of which a man about 30, cut his throat yesterday a few rods from me, he is to be buried this afternoon, he was intoxicated. I have not yet felt as though I could see him, it brings so fresh to mind the mur- der at Smithfield, I felt as though I had rather not see him. About the first of February a young man shot himself before my face and eyes, I was looking out of my window. He tied himself to a tree and 132 FALL RIVEE, placed the gun to his breast, and before any one could get to him he made way with himself. A girl belonging to this establishment threw herself into the river, after remaining two days in the' wa- ter slie was found, the most awful sight I ever be- held. How short and uncertain life is, it van- ishes like the early cloud and the morning dew. — • It is time to go t3 meeting and I must close.- Give my last love to Grindall and Lucretia, and tell dear little Edward aunt Maria wants to see him very much. Adieu, I am your affectionate though unworthy child. MARIA CORNEX.L. No. 12. Dorchester Village, 28th 1828. I received yours dated March 18th and was glad to hear you was all well, my health is pretty good at present, you mention you expect to visit Nor- wich this summer, I wish it was so that I could come and go with you, but I do not think it will be possible, as 1 have lately given five dollars for the purpose of erecting a new Methodist meeting house in this town, which is to be built by sub- scription, and you had better make your calcula- tions to go to Norwich as early as you can as you will probably stay some time. I expect to be in Killingly somewhere about the 20th of August and I should be sadly disappointed if you was gone. You will please present my best resj)ects to un- cle and aunt Lathrop, tell them that I long to see them, and if it is my aunt's wish to see me I should be pleased to have her write by you. I de- sire likewise to be remembered to the Rev. David Austin, tell him I wrote to him some months since, but as he has not answered my letter I con- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 133 elude he has forgotten or wishes to forget me. — - I likewise desire to be remembered to Deacon Able and his wife, Mr. Huntington and his wife, and particularly to Lucy Able, and all others who enquire after your daughter Maria. I wish you to write me immediately on your return to Nor- wich, and if you cannot be at home the time I have set, you must let me know. Adieu, with my best love to all — your affection- ate daughter, MARIA CORNELL. No. 13. Lowell, Jan. 11 th, 1829. To Mrs. Cornell JMy dear Mother — It seems a long time since I have heard from you, and I almost begin to think you have forgotten me or you would have written before this. I have written two letters, and sent two papers since I have resided in this place, and not received a line from any of you. I hope you will consider 1 am a stranger in a strange land, exposed to sickness and death. Last Saturday night, about twelve o'clock, I was called a second time to witness a five story factory with all its machinery enveloped in flames. It was a bitter cold night, and with great difficulty they made out to save tlie others which stood on each side — there were five of the same bigness in the yard. The middle one caught at the furnace, and in less than three hours it was burned to the ground. I expected to have seen the whole thirteen, with the whole Corporation swept by the flames. But through tlie goodness of that God who rules the elements — although the air was keen and cold — it was still as in midsummer. Th** damage is great, but the distress is nothing to what it was in JSlatersville — as each factory supported itself. — 12 o4 No one was personally injured. It was my lot to remove on the other side of the river, about half a mile distant. I feel measurably happy and contented, but do long to return to Connecticut to see my friends — but when 1 shall is unknown at present — think I shall never set any time to come, but hope I shall next summer if health and strength permits. I want you should write as soon as you receive this — if you never do again — and inform me how they all do at Norwich. My best respects to my brother and sister — I hope they are doing well — and the children ; with the sincerest ajffection I am your unworthy daughter. MARIA. CORNELL. No. 14. Sabbath morning, Lowell, May 3d, 1829, Mrs. Lucretia Rawson. Dear sister and friends — I take up my pen once more to inform you, that through the mercy and goodness of God, I am spared to see one more anniversary of my birth. Twenty-seven years of my short life has rolled on to eternity, and I am still on the shores of time, a probationer of hope, and enjoy the day and means of grace. More than two years have past by since I have seen any of you, or indeed scarce seen one individual that I ever saw before, but still I am contented and happy. I am surrounded by many dear friends who are near and dear by the ties of friendship and grace, and I feel much attached to the place and people here, and the religious privileges I enjoy are much greater than they have ever been before. But still I often look back and think of my natural connections in Connecticut and Rhode- Island, and loner to be with you. I have been AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 135 thinking of coming to see you for two summers — I feel a greater desire to see you now than I ever have done. I begin to think if I do not come to Killingly this summer I never shall. I received a letter from mother about four months since in which she mentioned she thought I was a moving planet, but I would tell my dear mother that I do not think I have moved much for two years past. I staid in Dorchester more than a year, and it will be a year the 17th of this month since I came to Lowell — and more than all this tell mother she must remember that I am con- nected with a people that do not believe in tarry- ing in any one place longer than a year or two years at most at any one time — and I am with them in sentiment believing with the Apostle that we should be as strangers and pilgrims having here no continuing city or abiding place, but seek one to come. With regard to my views and feelings respect- ing religion, they are the same as they have been for two years past. I was a great sinner but I found a great Saviour. Tis true I had made a formal profession of religion, but when I was brought to see and feel the necessity of being deeply devoted to God, my views and feelings were vastly altered. I am satisfied for one that a form of godliness will never prepare a soul for the enjoyment of heaven. For "great is the mystery of godliness. God manifest in the flesh — ^justified in the spirit — believed on in the world, and received up into glory." Perhaps my friends may think strange that I chose a people different in their views and opinions from that which any of my friends have embraced. But let me tell you my dear sister that the Methodists are my 136 FALL RIVER, people — with them by the grace of God I was spiritually born — with them I have tried to live, and if ever permitted to enjoy the happiness of the blest in heaven shall probably praise God to all eternity. I see my beloved sister a fulness in the Saviour, and I believe it is the privilege of the child of God to enjoy all the depths of hum- ble love. It seems inconsistent to me for the professed fol- lowers of the meek and lowly Jesus, who have said by their profession that they have bid farewell to the worldto follow its customs and fashions. It has appeared to me some time that it was good for the proud heart to be adorned with the modest livery of God's dear children, and to have a daily evi- dence that our witness is in heaven and our re- cord on high. The bell rings for meeting and I must draw my letter to a close. If nothing more than what I know of prevents I shall be in Kil- lingly some time between the ^middle of August and first of Sept. I do not know why you or Mr. Rawson have not written to me. I want one of you to answer this previous to the first of June and let me know what your wishes are, and I shall act accordingly. I am affectionately your sister, MARIA CORNELL. P. S. I am obliged to write where there are 30 or 40 boarders a gabbling — so excuse mistakes. No. 15. Lowell, Jan 17th, 1830. To Mrs. Cornell, My dear Mother — After waiting for more than eight long months for an answer to a letter that I wrote you last spring, I once more take up my pen to address you. You wrote me then you AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 137 were going to visit your friends at Norwich, and that you would write me immediately on your re- turn, but as 1 have never received a line from that time, 1 have concluded that you were there or were sick or dead, for it appears to me if you were in the land of the living and possest a pa- rent's feelings you would have written before this. When 1 last wrote to you that if the Lord spared my life and health I should visit Connecti- cut in August last past. A long time I waited for your return from Norwich, thinking you would v>^rite and let m.e know, but at length con- cluded it was neither your wish nor that of my brother and sister that I should visit Rillingly — but enough of this — I will cease to trouble your minds with such painful feelings. Not a day has rolled over my head since I left you but what I have thought of home, and the dear friends I have left many miles from this. I can tell you that although deprived of every earthly connexion or even of a correspondence with them, and one hundred miles lies between me and the friends of my youth, still I am contented, still I am happy, the present witness of an indwelling God fills my soul, and I am v/alking hand in hand with a large circle of dear friends to Mount Zion the city of the living God. My situation is as pleisant as I could expect. i have daily blessings heaped upon me. I am fed from day to d-ay like the ravens, and I can say to you to day I am happy in the enjoyment of the love of God and I anticipate one day though separated from the society of my friends here be- low, meeting them in the kingdom of God. Glory to God for religion that makes the soul happy, a religion that brings peace and tranquility will 12* 138 FALL RIVER, prepare the soul in the language of the Psalmist to say — " Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil — for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff comfort me." I left Lowell last May on account of my health and staid until Oct. in Boston and worked at my trade, except what time I was gone down on the water to Cape Cod. I went to Camp Meeting in August, as usual was gone ten days, cast anchor three days — went ashore three miles from where we set sail, having in company up- wards of two hundred, fourteen of which were Methodist Ministers. Had about twelve sermons preached on board, and one on the shore — dug clams — had plenty of good codfish, crackers and coffee — and on the eleventh day reached Boston wharf in better health and better spirits than when I left — having had about six good hours sleep in ten nights. Just at this moment one of brother Rawson's Camp Meeting stories has popt into my head and methinks I hear him say, " Well Maria this is one of your Camp Meeting scrapes." Let me tell you my dear brother I love them now as well as I did five years ago. Yea far better — for I have known real good produced by them. Time reproves me and I must draw to a close by saying dear mother do write me immediately, dear brother and sister do write and let me know whether you are in the land of the living, whether you live in Killingly — whether you prosper in spiritual and in temporal things. As to myself I have enough of the good things of this life. I brought nothing into this world, and I expect to carry nothing out, a stranger and a pilgrim here. My best wishes and most fervent prayers will AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 139 ever attend my dear parent. Once more I say- dear mother write to me, direct to Lowell, Mass. Your daughter, MARIA CORNELL. No. 18. Lowell, July 4th, 1830. To Mrs. Cornell, My dear mother — T lake this opportunity to acknowledge the reception of two letters one of which I received last week. You say you should like to have me come to Killingly this summer. Last summer I made my calculations to visit you, and should have done so if you had written — but I have not thought very seriously of visiting you this summer, until I received your last letter. I then thought I should come immediately, but finding my engagements such that I could not be absent from here more than a week or ten days at most — I have concluded that the. time I should stay would be so short — the expense would be more than it would gratify either of us. I am now preparing to go down on the water to camp meet- ing where I went last year. My health is tolera- bly good for the season, I never enjoyed my health better than after I went on the salt water, although I was very sea-sick. It is my intention now to spend two or three weeks with you in the spring, if life, health and strength are spared me. I have been in Lowell so long that I should feel lonesome any where else. My love to my sister, tell her I long to see her and the children. I shall write to Mr. Rawson as soon as I return from the Cape, though I never received a line from him or Lucretia since they were married, but I expect my sister's time is pretty much taken up with her children. 140 FALL RIVER, You will please inform me in your next if you have heard any thing from my brother James. — The bell is ringing- for meeting and I must close. I will send this piece of paper, it was thought it resembled me when it was taken — but I v/ear my hair in my neck short now, and it does not look so natural. I am your affectionate, though absent child, MARIA CORNELL. No. 17. Taitnton, March 10th, 1832. To Mrs. Cornell, My dear mother — -I sent a little pamphlet to Mr. Rawson a few days since but 1 dont know as he will understand what 1 meant, I pitched my tent in Taunton last fall, about the time of the riot in Providence, I should have written before, but I knew I could not make 3-ou a visit in the winter, for this reason I kept still. I am now in very good business, and I do not want to loose my place, which I must do if I come to Killingly at present. You will probably wish to know what business I am in, I am hooking up, and folding cloth, and keeping the weaving room books, I have the whole charge of the cloth and my employer is unwilling I should be absent even for one day, though I sometimes have two or three hours leisure in the course of the day, I think however I shall get leave to come and see you at Providence, if you could come there and meet me at uncle M s, I will set a time, and I "wish you to write me immediately — whether it will be convenient for you to come, I want to see Mr. Rawson and Lucretia, I hope I shall some- time in the course of the present year. I will meet you in Providence, the 18th of May, or 15th AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 141 of June, just which will be most convenient for you, I cannot leave the first or last of a month. Your daughter in haste, S. M. CORNELL. CHAPTER VII L The circumstances detailed in the life of Avery, need little comment ; every one must see in the persecution of Miss Winsor, and the slander of Rev. Mr. Norris, that Avery was a man of wick- ed, and revengeful, and persecuting temper; and his frequent closettings in the fomous study with fe- males, and tlie sad and grieved appearance of his wife, speak volumes. When apprehended for the slander against Mr. Norris, he was taken from the desk during a prayer meeting, by Mr. Kimball, a sheriff at Lowell, and was so much frightened as to faint, and several persons then made the re- mark, that he probably feared it was for some very different offence he was apprehended. But when put under arrest at Bristol for the alleged murder of Miss Cornell, it was said he exhibited great firmness, and during his trial discovered no signs of fear and but little agitation. To pass any comments upon that trial after the able Strictures published by " Aristides," would look like vanity indeed, yet a few facts which have come to the knowledge of the author it may not be amiss to mention, particularly as many who read this may not have seen the ingenious and masterly criticisms of the trial referred to. Preliminary to 142 FALL RIVER, the facts we are about to state, we will just make a short extract from that work. *' Never was a criminal trial instituted and car- lied through in this country in which so much baseness was manifest, so much chicanery practis- ed, the public, the government, the court and the jury, so deeply insulted, nor an accused man ac- quitted with such a chain of circumstances against him. The whole machinery of the Methodist church has been brought into operation and its artillery made to bear on the battlements of the hall of justice. Perjury, base and foul has been committed on the stand, under the sanction of a re- ligious garb to piotect a wretch from pujiishment." How much of perjury was practised on the stand we are unable to say, but certain it is there was great exertion made to prevent witnesses testifying against the prisoner, by his friends the Methodists ; most unwarrantable means were used to prevent the truth coming out. The circumstance related by Aristides respecting a sheriffof Newport having to run a race with a Methodist minister, of nine miles, to see who would get there first, the sheriff to sum- mon her or the preacher to prevent her, is strictly true, and that after all the vigilance of the sheriff, the parson won the day and arrived there iirst, and when the sheriff came, the woman (a Mrs. Brownell if we recollect right) pretended to be too sick to go ; what her testimony would have been if let alone wiido not know, but if we are to judge of its importance by the violent efforts made to stop her going, we must presume it to have had great bearing upon the case. A similar instance occurred in Thompson, (Conn.) A Mrs. Patty Bacon, a wit- ness for the prisoner, stated some circumstances which she said occurred at the Thompson Camp- AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 143 Meeting, of a very different complexion from the story told by her in Court. Mrs. Bacon's daugh- ters, thinking it of some importance to tlie case communicaled it immediately to the friends of the deceased, but before they or the counsel for the government could have a chance to converse with her, she had had a conversation with some of the Methodist clergy, and when she was afterwards interrogated upon the subject, denied every word of it, and that she had ever said so, the testimony of her two daughters and son-in-law to the contra- ry notwithstanding, and was afterwards found on the stand testifying that " she had suspicions of the situation of S. M. Cornell at the Camp Meet- ing," to the amazement of her own family, who had never heard any suspicions mentioned from her before. The statement she made to her two daughters and son-in-law, was this ; "That a very tall man with a dark frock coat, and broad brimmed hat whom she took to be a Methodist minister, (she did not then know Avery) came to the Muddy Brook lent three times, Thursday, enquiring for Sarah Maria Cornell, and that she afterwards saw the same man conversing with her without the tent." All this she stoutly denied after the above mentioned conference. This woman was a mem- ber . f the Methodist church. Again a Mr. Wind- sor, a respectable innkeeper in Dudley, was stand ing on the west side of ihe camp ground on the memorable Thursday afternoon near the time of the blowing of the horn, with a Mr. Jason or Jud- son Phipps, and a gentleman and lady passed them, when Windsor enquired who they were, and was answered by Phipps that it was a Mr. Avery and Miss Cornell, and added " I am watching them.'* Phipps afterwards in Windsor's bar room recalled 144 FALL RIVER, the circumstance to mind, and in presence of sev- eral persons said, "that man was Avery and the woman Miss Cornell, I know them both." It got out of course that he had said so, and when the gentlemen in search of evidence for the govern- ment called on him, the following dialogue took place. Question. — " Did you tell Mr. Windsor those persons walking together were Mr. Avery and Miss Cornell ? Answer. — " I might and I might not." Question. — " Did you or did you not say in an- swer to the question of Wiidsor, * who are those V say it is a Mr. Avery and Sarah Maria Cornell, and I am watching ihem ?" Answer. — " I might and I might not." The same answer was invariably returned, and it was all they could get out of him, until the gen- tlemen were obliged to give it up in despair. JNo- thinof could be drawn from him. Mr. Asa Upham, a sober industrious man, said to be a man of property and respectabiliiy, said he saw and knew Avery and S. M. Cornnll, and saw them walking arm and arm together, in the woods near the Camp ground. This person went to testify at the trial, and found the Methoilists had procured three persons to swear him down, and having no means there to testify to the char- acter of these witnesses, he would not stay. Being an inhabitant of another State they could not detain him. What sort of persons the Metho- dists had employed to testify against the veracity of this man may be gathered from the lact, that two of them were so intoxicated before they got half way from Providence to Thompson, as ta be AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 145 scarce able to continue their journey. We can state this fact without quoting " Aristides." The attempts to brow beat witnesses in Court, to confuse and perplex them, so as if possible to cause th*^m to falter or contradict themselves on the stand, was another most ungentlemanly un- manly and unchristian proceeding, and was proba- bly carried to a greater extent by the prisoner's counsel than has ever been attempted in any crim- inal case in this country, at least it is believed so by nineteen twentieths of the persons who aiiend- ed the trial ; and when the witnessf's chanced to be persons of ^o much firmness that this was deem- ed impossible, either some one was brought up to impeach their character for truth, generally, or to swear that they had stated different to them at some other time. Among the witnesses tampered with, there was none perhaps who underwent a more fiery trial than Mrs. JSarah Jones. As her name is men- tioned several times in the trial, she will be readi- ly recollected, but as the whole story cannot be perfectly understood from that that is told, and the whole is not related, we will give the narra- tive as she has given it to us, accompanied with her certificate to the truth of it. The Kev. Mr. Drake, while enquiring in that neighbourhood if any body had seen Avery, heard her say she saw a man in the morning; he want- ed to know why it was not as easy for her to say it was in the afternoon as morning. By this means Avery and his counsel became possessed of the fact that Mrs. Jones had seen a stranger pass their house in the neighborhood of the coal mines* ♦ Perhaps there is not a set of peop'e In New.Eneland more primitiTe in their maunera tn&n tome on thia part of the Islaud. t£« followioir lines were com* 13 146 FALL RIVER, or rathpr on the route to it, in a very early state of the business, directly after he was put under ar- posed it is said by an old lady over eiehty ye«rs of age, in the neighborhood of the coal mines. We do not know when we hnve taken up any thing that sounded so i/iuch likeolden time ; if it amuses the readers of this book as much as it did the author, it will well repay them the trouble of reading it. " Young virgins all a warning take Remember Avery's knot [spelt not.3 Enough to make your heart to ache, Don't let it be forgot. You mothers that have infants To sympathize and mourn, Such murder never was done here ^ Or ever yet was known. He killed the mother arxi the child^ What a wicked man was he ; The devil hf-lped him all the while, How wicked he must be. He dragged her around upon the ground Till she no noise could make Contrived a lot— tied Avery's knot And hung her to a stake. The devil he was standing by A laughing in his sleeve, It is so plain he can't deny, He must not be reprieved. He preached the gospel night and day ; What a wicked man was he ; The devil helped him to preach and pray ;. How wicked he musi be. How could he stand to preach and pray With murder in his heart ; The devil helped him day by day, And he will make him smart. Methodism he did profess For that was his belief. How can he ever take his rest. He must not be reprieved. Hang him, hang him on a tree Tie around him Avery's knot Forever let him hanged be And never be forgets" AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 147 rest, and previous to the examination at Bristol, and they sent for her to come to his house. When arrived there, she was very cordially greeted by Mr. Avery, who introduced her to the presiding Elder as " one of his witnesses, who saw him on the Island,''^ and she was asked to relate the cir- cumstances in presence of his attorney and the others. This she did. She had been looking out all the morning for the return of a brother who had been living at the eastward, and was expected back on that day. Between 1 1 and 12 o'clock she saw a man come through the white gate, and come within ten or fifteen rods of her. She described his course by answers to questions,gave an account of his route, and of the country, which the counsel traced by chalk marks on the floor as fast as she described it. Thus did the simplicity of this wo- man furnish a pretty correct map of the country. But unfortunately, the man she persisted she saw in the forenoon ; and when she came out, Avery, who went with her to the door, said in passing the entry, laying his hand on Mrs. Jone's shoulder, and looking imploringly in her face, " My life is worth mjore to me than a thousand worlds, and my life depends upon my witnesses — can't you recollect Mrs. Jones that it was in the afternoon ?" but, "say nothing," he added, to which Mrs. Jones answered she would not, and as she says kept her word until circumstances made it imperi- ously necessary she should disclose this interview, and the conversation that took place. On the day that Mrs. Jones' testimony was re- quired, at the examination of the prisoner in Bris- tol, she was brought over and was stopped at the house of a Mr Tilley in Bristol ; where a Rever- end gentleman met her, she says, at the door, ex- 148 TALL RIVEB, claiming, " now Mrs. Jones, you must remember it was in the afternoon when you saw the man, for Oliver Brownell has just sworn he saw the same man, and it was in the afternoon.''^ For a moment she said she felt almost bewildered, but the firm conviction that she had stateci nothing but the truth, and that if there were ever so many- men of that description seen in the afternoon, the one she saw was in the morninff. Directly, some one came up to lier and shook hands, saying *' we have been to tea, and Mrs Jones here has not : you will be so ^rood as to get her some, will you not — as soon as possible ? " and the good sis- ters hurried lo get her tea, overwhelming her with civilities. The t(a was already on the table, and the lady about to partake of their hospitality, when she was called for to the court. Two of the daughters of mine host volunteered to accompany her, thinking she would feel intimidated to go without any female, and on the way, short as it was, endeavoured to influence her to say it was in the afternoon. One says, " well, you saw broth- er Avery, it seems, on the island ? " " No, I don't suppose it could have been him," said Mrs. Jone?, *' the man I saw was in the morning." •'Oh it must have been him," said one, " it could not have been any body else ; and you must try to remem- ber it was in the afternoon." By this time the trio had arrived at the scene of action, where the matter was put upon oath ; and Mrs. Jones descri- bed the stranger, who really, from her description must have borne some feint resemblance in per- son to the prisoner. But alas ! the stubborn wit- ness would not say it was in the afternoon : after all the examining, cross examining, and twisting of evidence, nothing could be got out of her but AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 149 the same old story, *'it was in the forenoon." — Was there ever such obstinacy heard of? that so many civilities shouhl have bven tlirown away ! — But so it was : and the woman was conducted back to the house of Mr, Tilley, where she had engaged to return to tea, hurt and abashed by the altered looks of her now silent guides. Nothing was said, except as one looked mournfully upon her, and as she thought, reproachfully, and said *' we were in hopes you would have remembered it was in the afternoon.^^ Poor Mrs. Jones went in with a heavy heart, feeling that she had disap- pointed the hopes of the prisoner's friends, but, (unable by any sophistry she could imagine, to make out that between eleven and twelve o'clock was in the afternoon) with an approving con- sceince. She said the young ladies passed into the other room and were followed by one and an- other. There was a whispering conversation go- ing on there, and each, upon returning, wolild eye her with scornful and angry looks. It seemed, she said, as though the tea never would be ready, but at length she was called. " Never," said the poor woman, "did I eat a meal before that I thought was begrudged to me." But at length, she said, she took courage, and feeling tired and faint, resolved to " drink as much tea, and eat as much as she wanted to:" directly after which she took leave of her now ungracious hosts and went to a tavern, and staid all night, and rose on the following morning and returned home : — a dis- tance of four miles including the ferry, which she had to give eight cents to cross. From this time Until after Avery's flight, and his being taken again, nothing could exceed the scornful and su- percilious manners of the Methodists to this wo- 150 FALL RIVE«, man, by her description, whenever she met any of them. Her own expression was, *' they turned up their noses at her, and would not speak." But when Avery, after his flight, was pursued and ta- ken again, to her amazement, all at once their manners changed. Whether they had pouted it out till their resentment had worked itself ofl", or whatever was the cause, they now began to relax the muscles of their faces, and not only to give her the time of day, but even to shake hands very cor- dially and enquire after her health. Behold a po- lite letter arrived from Bristol, dated 28th March, enclosing three dollars ; tlie letter states that it en- closes the fee for travel and attendance in the case of the State against E. K. Avery, but does not mention the sum— the sum enclosed was three dol- lars, she states, and it appears she opened it in the presence of another person. When the trial came on at Newport, she was again summoned by the prisoner to testify. She was in the State and was obliged to go. The person, a Methodist, who went to carry her, and she said to him, " what did you come for me for, my evidence can do Mr. Avery no good, for the man I saw Avas in the morn- ing." " Why we were in hopes Mrs. Jones, you would remember it was in the afternoon,^^ was the answer. Arrived at Newport she was conveyed to the house where the Lowell witnesses were quartered, where she was again hampered to say it was in the afternoon when she saw the man on the island. She said the witnesses were shut up to- gether in the front room of the house, and practis- ing most of the evening to try to make the clove hitch, the Whitney girl and all, and that they ask- ed her to show them. '* I cannot for I never saw one made in my life," she answered. " I did not AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 151 state this circumstance to the court," said she in her narration, " because I did not then think it of any importance, but when I found one of those very girls came forward in court and swore she had been used to seeing- it in making harnesses, and showing her it might have been used by the deceased to hang herself, I then regretted extreme- ly I had not told that this very girl had been drill- ing to practise that manoeuvre all the evening, and that they did not, when I was with them, appear to understand how to make it, and asked me to show them." Unable to twist the evidence of this woman to suit their purpose, the friends of the prisoner en- deavoured to make it appear, on the stand, that she had contradicted herself once or twice in con- versation : but they did not make it out very clear- ly; although it was a subject of amazement to many that she had not done it repeatedly, placed, as she had been, in circumstances of such embarrassment and temptation. Since writing the narrative the author has been warned by some of Avery's friends not to place any reliance upon any thing this wo- man should tell, as there would not be a word of truth in any of it. But when we wished to see the letter from Bristol, in confirmation of that part of her story, and she produced it; and after ascertain- ing from the people of the house, that she was not only on that evening, at the house, with the Lowell witnesses and the girls named, but that they were " shut up by themselves in the front roorn,'^ the very words she used ; and that those girls were re- peatedly seen practising upon that knot while there ; we could not but believe it : particularly, as w8 have never in all our travels been able to 152 FALL RIVER, find any one who used the clove hitch in harnesses, and have seen at least hundreds making. Mr. John N. Smith, who testified to the cord being different from that used in factories, was urged to go as a witness for the prisoner, which he refused because he knew his evidence must be against him, of course. One person, a Methodist, and if we recollect right a deacon in the meeting, urged him to go to Newport to testify for the pris- oner. Said he, " you will be at no expense — and here is a five dollar bill, if you will go." We ask- ed leave of IMr. Smith to state this fact, saying such things ought to be exposed. He objected, saying he was ashamed to have it known that any man should dare to offer him a bribe. It must be evident to every candid observer, that the testimony for the prisoner in many instances was overdone. For instance, had two or three respectable persons of good standing in society stated that the character of S. M. Cornell was not good, and that she was plotting, revengeful, (fee. it would have gone farther toward convincing the minds of the public than all this array of question- able evidence ; a great deal of it was entirely ir- relevant to the case ; a vast deal appeared to have no object but to blacken the character of one as we observed before, who was " where she could not ansiuer them back again,'''' and injured in a very material manner the credit of a society who could tolerate such a character (allowing that she was so,) so much as to retain her among them, to be on any terms at all with her. To receive agairi a woman upon probation, who had once been ex- pelled upon such a charge as Doctor Graves made against her. Gracious heaven ! the idea is mon- strous — the thing incredible, if they had not AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 153 stated it themselves about themselves. Who that reads and believes such a statement can be willing their young and innocent daughters should be fol- lowers of a meeting proverbial for their familiar and social habits, where they would be liable to associate with such characters. We do not know but a part of the charges against her may be true, because we have no means of positively knowing ; some of them we know cannot be ; for instance, we know she could not have been sinning and playing the hypocrite in four different places at once, as is found to have been stated in one part of the trial. She could not. have been at Dover, Great Falls, Lowell and Waltham, at one and the same time, without pos- sessing one of the attributes of omnipotence — that of ubiquity. We scarcely think she could have been the wri- ter of these letters, which we know she was, if as vile as represented. Oh exclaims the scoffer who reads them, and believes the account given of her at the trial, what a caricature they are upon talk- ing, canting, whining christians. But to those who hope better things, what a different aspect will they wear. To those who believe that " out of the abundanceof theheartthe mouth speaketh," they will not appear like hypocrisy. Ignorant and enthusiastic we allow her to have been. Ig- norant as she was though, we observe her letters as much better spelt than those of Avery which we have seen. We are sorry to say that what we have stated respecting the treatment of the witnesses, together with much more, generally known, which our limits will not permit us to state, goes far towards contradicting the assertion made in the report of 154 FALL RIVER, the Conference, who sat upon Avery's last exami- nation, viz. that while the trial was pending they remained perfeetly quiet, not even undertaking to clear their brother from any of the ridiculous and exaggerated reports daily circulated against him, or to contradicting their reports. It is apparent it was no time to stand up in his defence in that way — but as to remaining quiet, it will be seen by every body that they were as busy as moles, all the time. It is amazing that Avery should not have had the politeness to publish a card after- wards thanking his reverend brethren generally, for it would have been hard to have particularized names, where so many deserved the meed of thanks, for their great exertions and important services ! ! ! Here the proceedings of these rev- erend gentlemen resembled those of a religious association ? Has it not rather looked like a com- bination of men for secular and political purpose, a league offensive and defensive ? Has it appeared their object is to elicit truth, or suppress it ? How is a charge against one of them treated ? Is there a candid examination of facts gone into, or is not every movement directed to break down the char- acter of the accuser in the first place, or to invali- date his testimony some way or other ? Is this the way to come to truth ? We come now to the last remark except one we have to make on this painful subject, viz. the sub- ject of those letters found in the possession of S. M. Cornell, designated as the yellow letter, the pink letter, and the white one. (The original let- ters now in the custody of the court, have been kindly and politely submitted to our inspection.) The view of the author in seeking to see them was simply to ascertain for a certainty, whether the AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 165 deceased had any hand in them, as insisted upon by the friends of E. K. Avery. To some of them, honest, though prejudiced people, we had pledged ourselves if possible to obtain a sight of them. Having been employed for many days in transcrib- ing her letters into this work, we felt perfectly confident, that if she had any hand in them we should at once detect it, however disguised. Among the papers found in her possession we dis- covered nothing in her hand, however, except her letter to Mr. Bidwell, and the slip of paper con- taining those words — " If I am missing," - themselves should go, hm begged tlie females to remain contented where they were. Children of Y.ve ! I heard them af- terwards resolving at all harards to know where the danger lay, and threateniig if their husbands went without them to hire a conveyance and go by themselves. Whethei they carr'^d their point or not I did not ascertain. I saw ti^m all depart from the inn in company together. A number of young men now repiired to the inn, from the Camp, to get supper, in^^nding to go back again. They a])peared in a higli frolic, but one of them was taken alaraiingly u\. Di- rectly after he was seized with a bleeding at the nose, so violent as to induce the belief that it pro- ceeded from the rupture of a blood vessel. — Though at some distance from the apartment's of the family, the ladies all volunteered to his assht- ance. It was a shocking scene, and with thfe greatest difficulty the effusion of blood was stop- ped by the variety of applications used. He ap- peared quite grateful for our kindness, and par- ticularly to the landlord, who immediately after had him carried to a cool room and put into bed ; but the effect of the scenes he had just witnessed^ had such an effect upon his brain that nothing could keep him silent. As soon as he Avas com- fortably in bed he commenced singing hallelujah, and kept it up for the greater part of the night. Friday was the last day of the meeting, and I who had now firmly resolved to see it out, and be a judge myself how far it was a work of the Spirit, went prepared to spend the day and night in the Camp. We carried refreshments, and all of our party agreed to keep together ; and to ensure our safety^ we contrived to go in the suit of an officer APPENDIX. 181 of justice, who with his family had stopped at the inn on their way. By the way, we had only oc- casional glimpses of him after we got there, for being employr.i by the meeting people to keep order, he was obliged to be on the alert. It was a scene of dreadful confusion to get therein the first place, the road was so full of people, the dust (for the earth had been fairly ploughed up by the multitude of feet) blowing and blinding one. It was a fact that w^e not half the time could see our horses heads, as we rode on. In the Camp there was great confusion. The crowd had very sensi- bly augmented. There was a woman exhorting at the stand, and one of our townsmen, who re- cognized me, and knew I was a great stickler for •woman's preaching, immediately came up and invited me to go down and hear her. Accordingly we all went down to the stand. A young female whose appearance bespoke her to be under twenty, was exhorting. The first words we distinguished were these, that she " did not want a copper of their money — No I dont want your money," she repeated, " not a copper of your money, only the salvation of your souls," and she exhorted the " young Ladies^'' and the dear young Gentlemen'* to repent, with all the energy she was capable of. Now I who abominate the epithet of Ladies and Gentlemen in christian exhortations, was turning ofi", when some one whispered, Mrs. T is go- ing to preach. This lady whom I had once before heard upon a most interesting occasion, was a great favourite with me, andl had inquired several times if she was there. I therefore took my sta- tion on a log, and with my companions heard her discourse. The w^oman speaking was of very mild and pleasing manners — a woman of plain 16 182 APPENDIX. good sense, and exceedingly graceful and winning in her manner, when speaking in a house where her voice could be heard without exertion ; but al- though her discourse which was short, was now, as it always was, good, yet the evidently great ex- ertion she now used, destroyed much of its eflect with most of the hearers ; the blood looked as though it would burst through her face, the veins of her forehead and temples as well as those of her neck, '' swelled up like whip chords," and her mouth, usually of sweet and placid expression, from her efforts to speak loud, was absolutely dis- figured. " Is this the Mrs. T— ," whispered one to me, I have heard you praise so much ? Why, I never witnessed such contortions of countenance before. Such remarks proved the woman in my mind to be out of her place, for I had no doubt her dis- course was better than any that had been heard there, but the great effort of retaining such a mas- culine attitude entirely destroyed the effect. She was succeeded by a very bold and uncouth looking ydung femal-e, whose language was as coarse as her look and manner. She called upon the peo- ple loudly to repent " to-day and save their souls." Some very singular expression she made use of appeared to have an.irresistible effect upon a part of her auditors, who laughed aloud ; upon which she said she " did'nt eare who laughed, she cared for nobody not a snap of her finger," (snapping her fingers in great style.) Another loud laugh. My faith in woman's preaching began to waver, and I was glad to walk off. We observed an African npon a stump at some distance, near the upper part of the camp, collecting a great crowd around him, who were listening with open ears and gaping APPENDIX. 183 mouths. Some were wiping their eyes, many- shouting, and others grinning. Thither then we bent our course, willing to hear the truth from whatever quarter it might proceed. The first words that met my ear were — "Deble fader of lies; he be liar from beginning. Some say poor niger hab no shoule. Vel dat I dont know, but dis I know, I got something in my body make me feel tumfortable, "(clapping his hands A'^ehemently upon his huge chest). A peal of laughter, long and loud from the profane rabble, was the response. While nothing daunted, he continued to go on in the same strain, not in the least interrupted or annoy- ed by the continued shouts of the mob, who, clap- ping their hands, kept crying, " go on brother, that's your sort, glory, hallelujah," &c. with all such sort of encouragement. I need not say we did not stay there long ; and as no interesting preacher now occupied the stand, we resolved to stroll round and look up some of our friends from the neighboring towns, many of whom we doubted not were there. In passing one of the tents we could not forbear stopping to look at a young wo- man reclining on the straw in a very languishing attitude, and apparently quite helpless : two or three young men had seated themselves near her and were enquiring how she felt ? Upon closely observing her I discovered she was the same young woman whose disordered appearance and extraordinary beauty had struck me so forcibly, and invited so much observation a few days before. It was she, but oh how changed ! even in the brief space of time that had intervened since we saw her before. Her bloom was entirely gone, and her haggard look and tangled hair gave her the appearance of somethingthathad recently escaped 16* 184 APPExNDIX. from a mad house. I shuddered with liorror, and thought oh ! if you were a sister or daughter of mine how should I feel. Humanity towards'the poor victim induced me to draw near and ask her if she had no mother to take care of her ? She turned a look of scorn and anger upon me, and then exchanged a look with each of the young men, and they all three laughed, and I walked off convinced I had been mistaken. I afterwards mentioned the case of this young woman to some of the persons on the ground, who undertook to explain to me her situation by telling me she had just come to. Their language I have forgotten, but I understood it to mean that she had gone through a process which they considered as per- fecting the work of sanctification, and I afterwards was told by some people at the house, that she was probably the same young woman who had lain two full days in a state of stupor, an unusual long time, and that it was possible her intellects might be affected. Be that as it might, the image of the fair sinner, or saint (for she was no halfway char- acter) haunted me for some time. We afterwards looked into another tent where we saw a girl from our own immediate neighborhood, in much the same situation, having just recovered from a state of torpor, and rejoicing with great appearance of happiness. My heart sickened at the sight of her, for I believed her a most accomplished hypocrite, and the end justified my suspicions. In the course of a few months she destroyed the peace effectual- ly of a worthy family, who had taken her from a state of great poverty several years before, and cherished her with all the tenderness of parents. She had previous to this been a Baptist by profess- ion, but after this attached herself to the people APPENDIX. J 85 through M'hose ministry she professed to have been recovered from her backsliding, and continued with their society until put out of all society. Being exceedingly fatigued we were now oblig- ed to give up our plan of remaining in the Camp ; the wagon in which we came having arVived with some other persons, we concluded to go home and recruit before the services of the evening. The ride home was no more annoying than when we came ; a certain sharp-looking set of fellows seem- ed to be prowling about the woods, and dodging at every corner — whose very look was sufficient almost to curdle one's blood, but it was now so generally understood that the camp was protected by the officers of justice that none dared to show their colors. Before it was quite dark we returned, and by the time we arrived, the Camp was lighted. I could easily imagine that embellishment added much to the scene. The disposal of the lights which ex- hibited so many different groups, and displayed the paraphernalia of the tents with such a different aspect from what it appeared in the glare of day, was altogether imposing, or rather witching. For a time we walked, until our protectors returned to the inn to take back the conveyance. We avowed our determination to pass the night in the Camp ; the gentlemen remonstrated, urged the fatigue, the exposure to health, the danger, unless we kept close under the wing of some person or persons able to protect us — but all to no purpose, we de- termined to remain. They promised to return and stay until ten or eleven o'clock, and then they said we must^take care of ourselves ; and leading us to one of the seats at the upper end of the ground, departed. There were four of us, nevertheless 86 APPENDIX. we experienced some little sinking of heart Avhen we saw our protectors depart. From the place where we sat we could see the whole ground ; 'there w^asa preacher on the stump speaking loudly and vehemently ; a black man also on the stand, and nobody attending to either ; the noise could not have been exceeded by the confusion of Babel. I could not compose my mind to realize it was a place of worship, although the songs of praise and the voice of exhortation mingled with the groans of despair, and blending in strange confusion with the various dialogues going on, rose each moment on the ear. Prayer meetings had commenced in the different tents, yet there was a continual travel- ling from place to place — nobody except the im- mediate actors in the scene seemed stationary for a moment at a time ; croAvds of people passing and repassing all the time. One woman flew past, throwing her arms abroad, and shouting " there are grapes here and they are good, heavenly times ! heavenly times !" A few moments after our ears were assailed with the most piercing shrieks of a female voice, which proceeded from behind one of the neighboring tents. Two of us sprang up and almost involuntarily ran to the place — the other two rather hung back as they afterwards told us from fear, thinking it might be some one mur- dered, or some terrible assult, a few moments brought us to the spot, and beheld tw^o young wo- men stretched upon the ground, no human creature touching them, screaming with all their strength. Some females from the neighboring tents rushed out to them, and sinking down by their side, be- gan to talk to them all at once. " Sink right into Jesus said one, and you will be happy in a minute." I enquired of an old lady standing by what the APPENDIX. 187 matter was ? she said they were slain, and there was a great many slain there every night. Seve- ral persons now raised them to carry them into the tent, and we in a whisper agreed to follow close in the rear, which by keeping hold of each other's cloths and following close upon the heels of those who had borne in the slain, we succeeded in get- ting into the centre of the tent, where, within a circle formed by the meeting they were laid upon the straw. They, the meeting people, were sing- ing a hymn, which rose to deafening uproar upon our approach. After the hymn, the women com- menced praying over them, using many strange expressions and the most violent gesticulation, the power of which was acknowledged by many a groan, shout, and interjectiori, intermingled with the agonizing shrieks of the slain, which still con- tinued. The loud Amen, the cries for mercy, the groans of distress, (either real or imaginary,) resounded from every quarter, while the triumphant excla- mations of those who shouted " I'm full — Fm run- ning over — I'm eating heavenly manna — glory ! hallelujah !" &c. &c. were as distinctly heard : and this, this scene of discordant noise and un- seemly riot (as it appeared to me) was what they called " the power of God." Forgive, thou in- sulted Being, the use I am here obliged to make of thy great and dreadful name ! Occasionally some of the young men who were within the cir- cle would draw near the young women, whose shrieks gradually changed to groans, and ask in a low voice, "do you feel any better ?" I could not hear that they made any answer. One young man, while the prayer was going on, began to shake violently, and then falling fiat upon the 188 APPENDIX. straw, exclaimed " God, I'm willing — I will own my Saviour — I will, I will :" at the same time, his feet kicking at such a rate, that the dust from the straw nearly suffocated us ail. His feet chan- cing to lodge in his fall, just between me and an- other young lady, we endured no small share ol inconvenience. The young lady actually receiv- ed several smart blows ; when a man leaning over our heads (we were seated on a bench) put his cane over, and fenced his feet from her, by plant- ing it firmly in the ground. A few people from our town. sat near, and, as I thought seemed to survey the^cene with mournful interest, at least they exhibited none of the anima- tion I have described. " Lord," said one of the women in prayer, " what ails the Providence peo- ple ?" One young woman uttered a sentence in prayer that seemed to fill the audience with inex- pressible delight. It was in allusion to a sentence in the sister's prayer that spoke before, wherein she asked for the crumbs that fell from her mas- jter's table. " Give us," said the last one, " not only crumbs, but loaves, good God ? " and slap- ping her hands with great violence. The eflect was electric, the Amen was echoed jn all the dif- ferent notes of the Gamut, while the expressions of " Come Lord Jesus, come quickly," were heard from different parts of the tent. My soul was momently shocked by those familiar addresses to the Deity, " God, come down here — Jesus come this minute — we want you to night — we want you now," &LC. &c. &c. The din and confusion in- creased every moment. Stamping, slapping hands and knocking fists together, formed altogether, a scene of confusion that beggars description, and really terrified us. We looked at each other in APPENDIX. 189 despair, and tlien at the door, wliich was com- pletely wedged up with faces, one above another, no w^ay to get out, and no one to help us ; when fortunately, the uncle of two of the young ladies (who had returned to the Camp on foot, after put- ting up his horses, and who was now standing at the door of the tent,) descried us, and in a mo- ment comprehending our distress, opened a pas- sage to the circle, by saying '• a lady faint ! a lady faint !" -which was echoed by several, either to aid in getting her out, or to increase the confusion, and thus we escaped from the crowd. There was now a general begging among us to return home ; but the ancle protested there was no way at pre- sent, and we must stay all night where Ave were. However, as we begged so hard, he despatched a man round the barriers to see if any carriage or wagon could be procured. While search was mak- ing, he advised us to walk around the ground ; as hundreds, probably thousands were then doing, thinking we should be safer to be moving with the crowd, than to sit down any where outside the tents. As we passed one of the tents, where the confusion could only be equalled by the one we had left, we distinguished in prayer that remarka- ble sentence, " the Lord is in his holy temple, let all the earth keep silence before him." What a place for its repetition ! ! One young man began to pray, who got so animated that he kept asking to die ; exclaiming, " Lord, I want to die. I'm ready to die, and fit to die, and Lord I want to die to night." Loud shouting and clapping of hands followed. We now passed a tent entirely closed, fastened down, and dreadful groans within : they appear- ed to proceed from one voice and that of a woman 190 APPENDIX. and evidently betokened great bodily distress. — One of the gentlemen just behind us said he was determined to see what was the distress, and be- gan unfastening the curtains : we had been for- bidden to raise it, by a brother who stood outside, but after the young man had got it part way up, a minister from Avithin called out " come in and see the power of God." Thus invited we entered, and behold, a young woman laying flat upon the straw, in great apparent agony, calling in frantic terms for the coming of the " Holy Ghost." I saw no other inmate of the room, except the min- ister just mentioned, but upon our coming out, several Methodists passed in, and we heard them a moment after singing around this distressed creature, " Die in the arms of Jesus, Die in the arms of Jesus