Tuesday, October 15, 2019

The Account of Jennie Bowman -- Louisville, Kentucky History



"Walking through Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville, Kentucky, you might stumble upon the grave of Jennie Bowman.  The modest monument that sits at her burial plot reads: “Public Recognition of the Heroism of Jennie Bowman, 1863-1887, Faithful To Her Trust Even To Her Death.”  You wouldn’t know by looking at that grave what a horrible ordeal this young lady had been through just before death, but now you will, because I am going to tell you her story so that she will no longer be one of the forgotten.

“The grave of Jennie Bowman will not be a nameless or forgotten one. It will be a humble but proud and sacred shrine, where may shall kindle the holy fires of love and duty. God’s angels watch it with sleepless vigil, and when the glad morning comes that wakes the dead, she, with all who have lived and died for duty and for right, will march into the city that hath no danger, no pain, no tears.” --- Rev. Waltz  

Those words were spoken at Jennie’s funeral on May 10, 1887, at the First English Lutheran Church on Broadway. Crowds of citizens from the city gathered to pay their respects as well as friends and family who were in attendance. Her employer, A.Y. Johnson & his family, who paid for the lot where she was buried, were also there grieving the loss of their beloved housekeeper. 

So, what sort of disastrous event took the life of this young lady? Just before noon on Thursday, April 22, 1887, Jennie Bowman was attacked during an attempted robbery while in the house of her employer at 1522 Brook Street. She was beaten so badly that she lay in a semi-conscious state, lingering between life and death, and suffering in agony for nearly two weeks before ultimately passing away.

Mr. Johnson’s children discovered the ghastly sight upstairs in the sitting room upon arriving home that day with their mother. Jennie, while in and out of consciousness, was able to provide a description of what happened that day, and what her assailant(s) looked like. She claimed that while she was washing glasses, she had heard a noise at the side door, so she went to see what it was. Upon opening the door, she was confronted by a large, black man with a mustache who asked to speak to Mrs. Johnson.

After Jennie explained that she was not home, he pushed his way into the home and locked the door behind him. It was then that he started demanding to know where all the valuables were in the house. After she told him there weren’t any valuables, he grabbed her by the arm with the intent to hit her. She used her other arm to swing the glass at him, breaking the glass on his head.  She tried to get away from him but he attacked her. Grabbing a large poker from the fireplace, he proceeded to hit her in the head with it. At that point, she was in and out of consciousness but remembered him dragging her up the stairs to the sitting room.

When she was somewhat awake again he began his interrogation about the valuables in the house once more. She told him again that there wasn’t any, and he again started to hit her. She said that she tried to get up and fight him, and they both ended up wrestling on the floor as she tried her best to fight off her attacker. Again, he managed to crack her in the head again, this time multiple times with the poker. He then gagged her with a wet towel (presumably the towel had been using to dry the dishes with) so she could not scream.

 She was incapacitated, but could see that he was ransacking the room. He went to the wardrobe and removed a coat and vest and proceeded to start putting it on when the voices of Mr. Johnson’s children coming home surprised him. They were outside in the back yard, and were on their way into the house. He dropped the coat and vest and ran out of the room. Jennie assumed he ran out the front door and escaped. From the very beginning she had mentioned the robber, but during bouts of hysteria and delusions she mentioned not just one, but two men were there. The police began a man hunt for the suspect or suspects that could have committed such an heinous act on a young woman. Soon all the police were on high alert.

           After hearing about the horrible attack on Jennie Bowman, Mary Brannin, a local in Louisville, approached Officer Strohman and told him that she had suspected that a laborer that she had spoken to about having some work done on her house might be the suspect. She claimed that when she went to Albert Turner’s residence to inquire about his services that he came to the door with a big gash on his head and a cut hand. He looked like he had been in a terrible fight and remembering hearing about Jennie’s attack and how she had managed to inflict an injury on his head, she was concerned this might be their man.

           Officer Strohman tracked Turner down to his home on the east side of Century Street between Green and Walnut around 6 p.m. According to Strohman, he found Turner in bed with a young man. Turner had wounds on his face and hands, and found in his room were handkerchiefs and stockings that belonged to A.Y. Johnson. He was immediately arrested and taken down to the jailhouse. They soon after arrested the other suspect, William Patterson.

           Albert Turner, 26, was a known hoodlum in the area. He had previous arrests for beating women and was a suspect in the robbing and beating of a lottery agent for $300.00 just four years prior (1883), but authorities didn’t have enough evidence to convict him of it. All in all, he didn’t have the rap sheet that his counterpart Patterson did.

           Patterson, a known criminal with quite the record, had spent two years in the penitentiary on a larceny charge, in which he pleaded guilty, for stealing a gold watch back in 1876. Then ten months after being incarcerated, he managed to escape. After he was captured and finished his original sentence, he was caught again in 1879 for stealing cattle, which he pleaded guilty to again. He served a year for that conviction, only to be arrested again in 1883 for burglary and larceny, which he served more time. On January 8, 1887 he was released from prison and only few months later he was taken in on suspicion that he was involved in the attack on Jennie Bowman.

          During their separate interrogations by the police, each had their own stories to tell. Patterson said he didn’t know Jennie Bowman, was not involved in any way and refused to speak about the crime further. Turner squealed like a pig the first chance he had, and of course he pointed the finger at Patterson, at least for the more gruesome parts. According to Turner’s confession, he claimed that he was passing the Johnson residence when he saw another “negro” sitting on a carriage mount in front of the house. The man, who Turner claims was a stranger to him, slapped him on his back and asked if he wanted to “make some money.” The man, who later identified himself to Turner as “Bill Patterson” told him that the occupants of the home were gone, that he had watched them leave the house, so he was planning on breaking in and robbing the household. 

          Turner claimed that he didn’t want to be involved, but after Patterson’s insistence he gave in. Again, remember, this is Turner’s claim. It doesn’t mean it’s 100% accurate. As his story went on, he claimed that upon entering the house, Patterson went upstairs and he remained on the bottom level where he was confronted by a woman. Turner claimed she struck him in the face with a glass that broke in half over his head. He cut his hand trying to get it out of her grasp and she bit his thumb down to the bone. While in this life or death struggle, Turner grabbed a poker from the fireplace and cracked her over the head with it three times, rendering her unconscious.

         “Patterson heard the struggle downstairs. He saw the woman, and we both picked her up from the floor, he at the feet, I at the head, and we carried her upstairs. We placed her on the bed. Patterson said ‘What are you going to do with her?’ I replied, ‘ Lock her up so we can rob the house.’ Patterson replied, ‘No, let’s do her up.’ He then picked up a poker from the fireplace about a foot longer and several pounds heavier than the one I had used, and struck her a fearful blow on the top of her head. The body writhed and blood flowed from her mouth and nostrils. Patterson then jumped on the bed and kicked the woman seven times: three times in the stomach, and two on the side, and two on the head, one of which broke her jawbone.”

          Turner went on to claim that Patterson had intended to rape Jennie, but that he “prevented” him from doing so. Again, it is hard to believe everything Turner says, but it is also hard to ignore that some parts of his story matches Jennie’s statement. So, we know Turner had attacked Jennie. Just who struck her with that fatal blow would be impossible to determine at this point. Jennie claimed at first she remembered the one man, but during bouts of consciousness she was able to recall other things, including the fact there were two men in the house that day.

          When Turner was in the presence of Chief Whallen, around the time that a large mob of people were assembling outside of the jail, he begged Chief Whallen for his protection from the angry mob. Thousands of people assembled outside, and at one point it looked as if the jail would be overrun by a mob out to lynch Turner.The Chief had all of his police force on duty for 48 hours (non-stop) and even sought out the help of the Louisville Light Infantry, which was an independent militia, to keep order in town. By 10 p.m. 200 men marched on the jail carrying poles, at that time 50 people were arrested and by morning 300 had been charged with disorderly conduct.

          Because of the threat of a lynch mob getting their hands on Turner before he could be tried and convicted in a court of law, the Chief decided to remove his prisoner to another location. At the same time, the other suspect, William Patterson was being held in the jail for suspicion of the same crime. Based on Turner’s confession, it was assumed that he aided in the crime. At that point, both inmates would have to be moved out of Louisville, separately without seeing the other. 

          Authorities banded together and climbed into the wagon with Turner in tow, bound for the train station. I don’t know about you but this scenario reminded me of a scene from the movie 3:10 to Yuma, and I could not help but imagine the tension of that moment was probably so thick, and the fear of what could go wrong was probably overwhelming, but the police went out anyway determined to get their prisoner on the train to Frankfort. While they rolled their way across town, a guard posted in the intersection at 6th Street covered them with a Gatling gun to see that they made it out of town without issue.  Another wagon, with Patterson in it, soon followed bound for the train.


           While on the train, at the stop in La Grange, Patterson asked to use the bathroom. As one of the officers was escorting him there, he made an attempt to escape out the coach door. Apparently since Patterson had been in prison before he didn’t plan on going back. His little attempt for freedom was short lived though, and the officer managed to subdue him and get him to the jail in Frankfort in one piece. During their attempt to see if Turner could positively single out Patterson as his accomplice, additional black citizens of the community in Frankfort, where the suspects were being held, were brought in. This was done because Patterson claimed he had nothing to do with the attack and didn’t even know Turner.

            “The Frankfort colored men who were taken into the jail to confuse Turner, if possible, in his identification of Patterson, were heard to express their belief in the guilt of Patterson, and asserted that both criminals deserved death.”

            After creating a line-up with several other black males, Turner was then brought out to identify his accomplice. As he walked past two of the men, he stopped at the third and placed his hand on Patterson’s shoulder and said: “This is the man I met on the carriage stone, and the one who struck the woman last and wanted to outrage her.”

            It became very obvious that Patterson became unnerved and immediately yelled out: “I am innocent, as God is my judge, and I have got to die, and I know it. If that poor young lady was here, she would tell you that she never saw me.” “No,” replied Turner, “She was insensible when you carried her upstairs and tried to kill her.”  “Albert, you know I am innocent,” Patterson exclaimed. "You are trying to make me die to cover up your crime. I had nothing to do with it. You are lying on me and trying to put my neck in the gallows. You and I both will be tried for our lives, and you know I am innocent.”

             At that point Turner told Chief Whallen to examine Patterson’s body and in doing so they would find blood from Jennie under his clothes. After stripping him down, they indeed found dried blood on him just as Turner claimed.  This was when Patterson said he would murder Turner right then and there for throwing his life away, and that was when he sprang up and reached to put his hands around Turner’s neck, strangling him. It took nearly six officers to break up the two men and take them back to their separate cells.

           According to the newspapers of the time, Patterson had more than the arrest record I mentioned earlier. In fact, he had attempted to murder a policeman more than once, and back in 1880 while on trial he jumped from the dock in the City Courtroom and tried to stab a station keeper in Sinkhorn. On another occasion, he vandalized a restaurant.  As an officer was attempting to arrest him, Patterson tried to swing a meat knife at him and he had to be clubbed until he was subdued.

            All this time Jennie was wasting away in bed at the Johnson’s home, with family and friends keeping vigil at her bedside for nearly two weeks, hoping and praying that she would recover from these horrific injuries, but that was not to be the case. On May 9, 1887, Jennie passed away. Immediately, the Coroner made plans to examine her body to determine which injuries caused her death.

            Coroner Miller, assisted by physicians Dr. Berry, Robert and Hoskins, all determined that the right side of Jennie’s brain, near the base of her skull had a large blood clot, 4 ounces in weight. The inflammation of the brain was throughout the entire skull. They made the conclusion that had Jennie recovered physically from her injuries, her brain damage was so severe that she would have had to be kept in an asylum for the rest of her life.

            Meanwhile in jail, Turner and Patterson were getting mixed reactions from citizens. Besides the thousands of people who wanted to lynch them in Louisville, there were sympathetic people who came out of the woodwork. The newspaper stated “In the minds of many, Turner was not a criminal, but a hero. The brute himself gloried in his importance and boasted of the attention shown him, and order the details of his funeral, conscious that it will attract thousands and give him a delightful celebrity.” 

            As sickening as it sounds, yes, even murderers get groupies who somehow sympathize with them. Women were showing up at the jail to visit Turner, and even gave him money. While he banked on his newfound fame, he even sold photos of himself to those who requested it.  All the while, Jennie’s passing, the concern about getting her justice, or even the plan of giving her a proper burial was just an afterthought in the minds of many. It was so bad that the Louisville Courier-Journal tried to shame the public for showing more care and concern about Jennie’s murderers than Jennie herself, the actual victim in all of this.

            It appeared that once Jennie had passed on, the interest in her personal story diminished, while the fever pitch for the trial of Turner and Patterson was just getting started. The Committee members in charge of overseeing a collection fund to help Jennie receive the honor she deserved was spearheaded by Allen McDonald, W.N. Haldeman, Col. John B. Castleman and Judge R.H. Thompson who all devoted themselves to have her proper memorial erected. All together only a little more than $750 was raised for Jennie’s memorial fund, in order to have her  buried and a decent monument placed at her gravesite. The dedication of Jennie’s monument was held on October 6, 1887. 

             During both trials, Albert Turner always remained adamant that Patterson was his accomplice, while Patterson always claimed his innocence in the crime. One of Patterson’s former cell mates, Robert Crow, claimed that Patterson had confessed his guilt to him as well as other crimes he had allegedly committed, including murdering and attempting to murder other women over the years. At one point Crow’s statements were put into question when  rumors swirled that Patterson’s wife had paid Crow to secure Patterson’s conviction so she could be rid of him. It was also rumored that Crow and Patterson’s wife had an arrangement that they would be together once Patterson was out of the picture. Still, there was no proof of those rumors. Crow claimed he didn’t have any interest in Patterson’s wife, and that he was happily married.

           Whether Crow was telling the truth or making up more to the story, another witness statement that was beyond reproach or doubt was that of Minister Dr. Evans, who witnessed Patterson running out of an alley that day. He claimed that Patterson was bloody and injured and that he saw him running from an alley in the direction that lead to the Johnson’s residence on the day and approximate time of the murder. It didn’t take much for the jury panel in both trials to decide the fate of both men. Albert Turner was found guilty of murder and was sentenced to be hanged until dead, with the sentence to be carried out on July 1, 1887. On the day of his execution, Turner allegedly claimed that Patterson was innocent of the murder, however he didn’t say that he wasn’t there at the scene of the crime. Still, that was not enough to overturn Patterson’s conviction.

Patterson, although found guilty, managed to secure himself with a second trial, to which he was again found guilty. He had only stalled his execution a little over a year. He was hanged on June 22, 1888. At the time of his execution, the noose had not been adjusted properly so when he fell, the knot slipped under his jawbone. Since the fall did not break his neck instantly, he dangled there for over 25 minutes before he was declared legally dead. According to those who watched the hanging, from the time the rope dropped at 6:12 p.m. to 6:22 he was struggling and gasping. By 6:44 he was cut down from the rope and his body removed.

Remembering Jennie Bowman

Going back to the beginning, we must look back on just who Jennie Bowman was, and the life she had tried so hard to live. At the unveiling of her memorial, Judge R. H. Thompson gave a moving speech about Jennie and said this: 

“Jennie Bowman was born in this city, of German parents, poor in purse, yet rich and independent in the sturdy spirit of industry and thrift which always and everywhere distinguishes the German race. It was her good fortune, while still almost a child, to find employment in an excellent family….from the trusted servant she became the affectionate friend, and so it was, that on a bright and sunny day, in the very midst of this great city, with all the streams and currents of its busy life eddying around her, she was left alone in charge of the house which had been so long her home…..She died a martyr to her fidelity, and the universal sign of sympathy and appreciation which welled up from the hearts of the people of this city has found expression in this monument, which today we dedicate to her memory.

 Placed here, in this forest of marble columns, costly memorials of departed worth, tokens of sweet affections, buried hopes, neither speech, nor language is heard among them, but which still speak with so much pathos of man’s weakness and decay---this simple stone gives utterance to a song of life, in it recognizes the great truth that ‘whosoever will lose his life for others’ sake, the same shall save it’…. Jennie Bowman was a heroine long before she faced the brutes that murdered her. Day by day, upon the altar of duty, she had laid the sacrifice of self, and when the hour of trial came her spirit flashed out in resplendent glory before the astonished eyes of men, not as a low worm of dust, but in that adamantine  character whose diamond face reflects in glorious beauty the great white light that shines in Him whose life is the light of the world.

 The historian who shall record the names of those whose life or death have shed their luster upon Kentucky, will dwell with loving pen upon those archives which relate to the story of her women….The name of Jennie Bowman will grace the page of history that records the deeds of those heroic women, and the laurel wreaths which crown them will lose no luster on her brow.”--- (Speech by Judge Thompson, October 6, 1888)

Conclusion

            When I first started researching about the life and death of Jennie Bowman, it seemed so overwhelming. Her story filled hundreds of pages of newspapers at the time and the endless amount of reading and retaining information was a lot to take in all at once. I wanted so badly to share her story with the world and to make sure that her story was told with as much care and precision as a surgeon would use in the operating room. To me, Jennie Bowman wasn’t just a story, but a real person. It is my desire that by sharing her account with my readers, it will allow them to step back in time with me to witness her life, and death, as much as anyone possibly can. Whether you believe who killed her, it is now up for you to decide. The point was to tell the story accurately to get her story told, period.

             Nowadays a lot of stories are shared online, in books, and on television, but how much of what we are reading, seeing or hearing is factually accurate? That is a good question. This is why I stress the importance of thorough research down to your most basic primary (and secondary) sources as being not just important but essential in getting to the facts of a story. Do not rely on others to do the research for you. Do not be lazy. You will find that by going the extra mile you just might discover something even the so-called experts didn’t. Why? Because a lot of these “experts” don’t bother to do their own research either. I know that there have been ghost tours in Louisville in the past, and the story of Jennie Bowman has been shared. Whether their version is accurate or not is not for me to say, but I certainly hope they are doing their homework instead of spreading more misinformation around as so many other paranormal tours seem to do these days. I do not delve into the paranormal lore of people, places or things unless I absolutely have to, as I prefer facts over folklore, so that is about as much as I am going to go with this story. 

              So, if you do head down to Cave Hill Cemetery, and you decide to pay Jennie Bowman a visit, please always remember to be respectful of her final resting place. Remember she was a real person with a heart of gold and strength of character, so much so, she fought her attacker as best as she could to defend her employer’s home, and in the end she paid the ultimate price. Also, remember those final words spoken the day of her funeral as they are the best way I could think of ending her story.

 “The grave of Jennie Bowman will not be a nameless or forgotten one. It will be a humble but proud and sacred shrine, where may shall kindle the holy fires of love and duty. God’s angels watch it with sleepless vigil, and when the glad morning comes that wakes the dead, she, with all who have lived and died for duty and for right, will march into the city that hath no danger, no pain, no tears.”—— "



Photo Credits (Rob Mitchell)



(Copyright 2019- from the book "More Stories of the Forgotten"  by J'aime Rubio, www.jaimerubiowriter.com) 

Saturday, September 28, 2019

Paranormal Fakelore, Nevermore - Shannon Bradley Byers' New Book!



Everyone loves a good scary story, especially if it is said to be based on a true story. Unfortunately, nowadays it appears that with all of the "paranormal" programs on television, books, and even movies, people will do anything to make a buck, even going so far to sensationalize or literally make up false history to profit off of it. When these sorts of stories pick up steam and start to be spread, there are some people out there who are lurking in the background, watching, listening and waiting. Waiting for a chance when they can expose these charlatans, these false stories and debunk the lore surrounding it, to give the public the factual story. One of these people is Shannon Bradley-Byers, and her book is "Paranormal Fakelore, Nevermore." 

I met Shannon a few years back, after finding out that she had written an in-depth investigation about the story of Bathsheba Sherman. If anyone knows my writings, they would know that I debunked the false story that had been unfairly spread about Bathsheba Sherman, no thanks to Andrea Perron and Lorraine Warren who started the whole "Conjuring" mess to begin with. You see, it only takes a person ready and willing to search the records and get to the facts, to find the truth. Sadly though most people today are too lazy and unwilling to do the legwork to get to the truth, so it remains buried alongside the very dead they are writing about. That goes against everything that both Shannon and I stand for as historians. 

Once I read Shannon's chapter on Bathsheba, and found that she had uncovered the same information that I had, I realized that she was a kindred spirit and that she was a truth seeker. Not only does Shannon cover Bathsheba Sherman's story in her book, she also covers and debunks many stories that anyone intrigued with urban legends or paranormal lore would be interested in reading. By scouring the old archives, public records and newspaper microfische of the time period, Shannon unveils hidden facts and documentation that exposes the hallowness of many myths, urban legends and local folklore that had been taken as gospel for far too long. 

Let's take the Myrtles Plantation as one prime example of her expert sleuthing skills. Not only does Shannon give you a break down of the history of the property, she also skillfully and with such precision dissects the ghost stories that have been promoted or spread over the years, by comparing the facts to the "fakelore," as she puts it.  After reading this one chapter, you will never again believe the stories you may have heard about the Myrtles Plantation before. 

Besides the Myrtles Plantation, she also successfully debunks the story of Pearl Bryan and the alleged connection to Bobby Mackey's Music World in Wilder, Kentucky.  Then she takes you down to Louisville, to the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, again using facts over fantasy, and giving her readers the truth behind this massive hospital's history. Shannon also covers the story of Lavinia Fisher & the real history behind the movie "Cold Mountain," as well as several other legends and tales that she has investigated over the years. 

Shannon Bradley-Byers' work shows her commitment to searching for and shining a light on the truth. That is a quality in a journalist that is often rare to find these days, as so many have proven themselves to be more interested in fabricating or embellishing a story, just to make their work more entertaining. Shannon needs no sensationalism in her tome, as she proves with her veracity that fact is always stranger than fiction. Another thing Shannon does without even meaning to, is she deflates all the paranormal television shows' investigations and exposes them for their (a) lack of real research, or (b) intent to over-embellish a story for higher ratings. You see, once you know the facts to a story, you can no longer un-see it, or un-read it and that is a good thing. 

So, folks, if  you want to read a book with substance and truth, one that not only opens your eyes but pushes you to question things moving forward, a book that not only provides answers to some of the most interesting stories of places and people but also a book that is concise enough to read in one sitting, I strongly suggest you order a copy of Shannon's book today. You won't be disappointed! I wasn't.


Happy History Hunting!

(Copyright 2019 - J'aime Rubio. www.jaimerubiowriter.com) 

Sunday, August 18, 2019

Eliza's Lonesome Grave -- Amador County History



Perched on top of the hillside of Jackson on Church Street rests the home of Armstead C. Brown. Constructed for one of Amador County's oldest and important early pioneers, the home itself was built in 1859. It survived the great fire of 1862, which burned many of the buildings in Jackson, including the National Hotel and the old Hangman's tree on Main Street, but A.C. Brown's home, being situated on top of the great hill near the cemetery was saved. It has stood there now for over 160 years, and it is still just as beautiful as ever. I just didn't realize until recently, that property has a history that is older than the home that sits on it.

I have been visiting this home off and on for many years, ever since I was a child, since it has been the Amador County Museum for many, many years.  I had always been drawn to it, but I didn't realize until years later, as an adult, that there was a lonesome grave on the north side of the property. When I inquired about it inside the museum, the docent explained that the wife of a friend of A.C. Brown was staying there, and the young woman had died in childbirth, so the family buried her in their yard. 

I visited the grave with sad thoughts in my mind, imagining how her last moments must have been, in agony giving birth and then passing on along with her child at such a young age. Given the fact I hadn't been told a lot about the circumstances of this young woman's death, I simply assumed she had died in the house, since the story told to me was vague.

Well, I was just up there this weekend again, and while Roland was visiting Hein's estate sale down the hill, I ventured up to the museum all by my lonesome to visit Eliza. While I was there, I took in the beautiful atmosphere all around me:  the breeze, the cool shade of the trees and the fragrance of the plants in the air. I felt safe, secure and at peace. 

As I was walking back towards my car, I thought to myself, "this is such a beautiful spot, like going back to a simpler place in time." Within moments Roland surprised me walking up the cement staircase to the property and we sat there at a picnic table under the shade of the tall trees. I told him that this property is "one of my favorite places in Jackson."  I also mentioned that if it were just a regular home, and if I was rich, I would want to buy it and live in it because I love the feeling I get on the property itself! (It's funny that I said that and I will get to that reason in a moment.)

So I went home and uploaded my photos, got busy with researching Eliza's story further. Well, just as I had stated before, the house on that property was built in 1859. I didn't know that initially, it wasn't until digging deeper into my research. That was when it dawned on me, "Eliza died in 1856!"
That was three years before the home was built.

According to the Amador Dispatch, Eliza did in fact die during childbirth, but apparently she didn't die on the property itself. It says she was buried on the Brown's property on a "small knoll." 

Eliza was the wife of Leon Sompayrac, a native of France, who was not only a jeweler by trade, but also one of the original Trustees of Jackson when the town was first established, as well as a founding member of the Grand Jury. Not much is known about Eliza except that her maiden name was Hart, and she was born July 25, 1835. I could not find a marriage record, nor could I find any record of where Eliza was born or who her parents were. 



Eliza's grave itself was constructed by brick and covered with iron doors from her husband's jewelry shop. If you visit Eliza's grave (or above-ground crypt) now, you will see there are no iron doors, so either they were removed later or stolen. All that is left is the brick structure and an ornamental iron fencing around part of it, where wandering vines of ivy have crept through and grown quite beautifully around it. 

Her marker is a little confusing, because the top part reads:  "Eliza Hart, Born July 25, 1835"
While the bottom part reads: "Eliza Sompayrac, Died May 31, 1856." (both of which are two separate pieces of stone attached to the above-ground crypt). 

I searched the only newspaper of the time, the Volcano Weekly Ledger for an obituary or death notice but I found no mention of Eliza's passing. Sadly, it appears that it didn't make the newspapers back then. In newer archived articles of the Amador Ledger Dispatch, there are mentions of Eliza's passing, and the "Friends of the Amador County Museum" sponsored an annual Memorial Day Celebration at Eliza's grave back in 1986. The ceremony took place at 11 a.m. on Sunday, May 25.  The article also stated that the group decided to honor Eliza on her 130th anniversary of her death, and that Eliza died "close to what would later become Memorial Day" and she "was buried on a spot she had loved in life, which was near the site on which A.C. Brown would later build his house."

So, Eliza wasn't buried there because of dying on the property. In fact, there is no documentation that I am aware of that states where she died, although we know it was somewhere in Jackson. However, it was noted that A.C. Brown had her buried on the spot that she "had loved in life."  This obviously means she loved and appreciated that beautiful hillside, just as I do, and it must have been so apparent that she loved that spot so much, that her husband and his best friend A.C. Brown, picked the very best spot that she would want to be buried: right there on that hillside. 

Unfortunately, there have been sheds and structures built around her grave over the years, so the view she once saw is not the view we see today. But if you visit the Amador County Museum and you walk that property, you will feel what Eliza felt. The same feeling that I get when I visit, too. It is a sort of soothing calmness that sets over you, and you feel at peace. 

After Eliza and her baby passed away, her husband eventually moved back to France. There are news advertisements for Leon Sompayrac's business "Fixury & Company" which he co-owned with Mr. Fixury, closing by mutual consent, and a notice in August of 1857, stating that he would be moving out of the country by August 20, 1857 and any debts owed to him that were not paid by that date would be cause for him to sue. It appears that Leon never came back to the states.

And so, Eliza and her baby rest peacefully in one of the most serene spots in all of Jackson while the world has continued to go on for the past 163 years, mostly forgetting that she is even there. With that, let's remember Eliza (and her unborn child) and their final resting place, so they will be forgotten no more. 


(Copyright 2019 - J'aime Rubio,  www.jaimerubiowriter.com) 

Sources:
Volcano Weekly Ledger, August 15, 1857
Amador Dispatch, February 3, 1966
Amador Ledger Dispatch, May 14, 1986
Find-a-grave

Sunday, August 11, 2019

Jackson's Forgotten Cemetery



The city of Jackson, located in Amador County is one of the most beautiful and historic areas in the gold country of the Sierra Nevada mountains. A place where history can be found literally everywhere you look, and step. It's no wonder then that even the simplest places could hide a story, and a history, time itself has forgotten. Located just outside of town sits an old, abandoned cemetery. A sad and lonely space of land, bedraggled and overgrown with weeds, rocks, dirt and debris, this cemetery is truly an archaic reminder of those departed souls who pioneered this land long before us.
Memorial Plaque

The cemetery, so small if you blink you will literally pass it, has proven to elude many citizens in this county for years. Honestly, I didn't even realize the cemetery was there at all, until recently when I spoke with my friend Amy Doran. It was then that I learned of this very unique and special place. You see, Amy drives down Jackson Gate road every day to and from work, and she contacted me to ask if I knew anything about the small cemetery on the side of the road with one lone grave. She wanted to know who was buried there, and why was it so neglected? It seemed abandoned and very gloomy, and immediately I was intrigued. I didn't know of a separate cemetery on Jackson Gate Road, so I did some digging and came up with some very interesting history.

First off, before Amador County was established in 1854 it once was considered a part of Calaveras County. So I am assuming that the burials on this plot of land were considered residents of Calaveras when they died, because this cemetery appears to pre-date Amador County itself. From what I could find, there aren't a lot of records, if any, that tell us who might be buried under that hallowed ground except for one burial, Thomas Tormey.

Thomas Tormey's lone marker


The lone standing marker, which is said to be the oldest burial marker in all of Amador County, sits weather beaten and worn by time and the elements. It once read: "Thomas Tormey, native of Ireland, died October 9, 1850."  Thomas was about 29 years old, so his year of birth should be about 1821. Not much more is known about Thomas, such as how he died and if he had any family in the area. Unfortunately, there were no local newspapers that I can find in circulation in the area back then, thus no obituaries available since the Volcano Weekly Ledger (Amador County's first newspaper) didn't even begin until October of 1855, and the Calaveras Chronicle started a year after Tormey's death in 1851.

After making a small post on my Facebook, several friends wanted to get involved in the hunt to find out who Thomas was, and where he came from.

Friend and fellow genealogist, Debbie Lowe Myers found an immigration record for a "Thomas Tormey" from Ireland, born in 1821, who landed in New York on July 18, 1849. He also came with a Mary Tormey, age 21. Could this be our Thomas? It is possible, but there really is no way to tell for sure.

I did find a notice in the Daily Crescent newspaper in New Orleans dated January 4, 1850 noting that there was a letter for Thomas Tormey waiting at the post office for him to pick up. Could Thomas Tormey have traveled from New York to New Orleans in order to take a steamer to Panama, via the Isthmus and traveled to California? Well, we know he had to have come one way or another, and at that time period, you usually crossed the Isthmus or took a ship around the Horn. But again, since I couldn't locate his name on any of the ships manifests to San Francisco, I cannot confirm how he got to California. He could have came over the mountain range via a wagon train, which was also another way settlers managed their way to the west.

Then another Facebook friend and fellow genealogist, Sharon Healey Bartholomew found a Thomas Tormey born in 1818 in Westmeath, Ireland, the son of Bridget and Edward. Who died on October 11, 1850 in California at the age of 32. Could this be our Thomas?

Besides Thomas being buried at the cemetery, past archived records of the Ledger Dispatch state that in all there are about 30 burials on that piece of land. Again, there is no mention on the plaque outside of the cemetery of who is buried there or how they died; however, the fact that the land belongs or belonged to the Perano family, and being that there are numerous amounts of Perano's buried at other cemeteries in the area, it leads me to believe other earlier members of the Perano family were more than likely buried here in their own family cemetery.

Again, as I mentioned before, back in 1997, 1998, 2003 and 2004 there were articles in the Ledger Dispatch that mentioned an effort to restore and preserve the cemetery.

The Jackson Cemetery Committee along with the Perano family and others such as:
Jackson's Womens Club, Stan Lukowicz, Margaret Dalton, Ralph Merzlak, H. Gordon Miller, Al Nunes, Brian Drake, Terry Watson, Les Miller, Roark Weber and Warden Mike Knowles and his work crew at Mule Creek Prison all got involved to make this happen.

Sadly, time went on, and with it went the drive to keep this cemetery maintained. Since then, people have passed on, others became busy with their own businesses and lives, and little by little the cemetery became forgotten once again. My hope is that this time the community will work together to not only restore the cemetery once and for all, but keep it preserved.

Thomas Tormey deserves a proper headstone marking his grave and all the other forgotten ones buried within the property should be mentioned on some sort of memorial marker as well. It is my hope that we can make this happen somehow, some way.

I have recently contacted several people at the Ledger Dispatch as well as a reporter at the Sierra Lodestar. I am waiting to hear back from them, and maybe we can get the ball rolling with some attention being brought back to the cemetery again.  I also plan on contacting the City Cemetery Committee at City Hall as well as the local Boy Scouts, Masons, Odd Fellows and the local VFW Hall to see if any of these groups would be willing to join in on the effort to preserve what should be known as Amador County's oldest cemetery. Hopefully this idea will get the community's attention and action can be taken to move forward and honor these forgotten ones buried and abandoned for far too long.

(Copyright 2019 - J'aime Rubio  www.jaimerubiowriter.com)


Old photo of Thomas' marker when you could read the writing on it. 

Thomas' marker today. Worn and weather-beaten. 

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Bathsheba Sherman's Vindication

Photo Credit: Kent Spottswood


"Sometimes histories about people from the past become distorted due to overactive imaginations and just the passing of time itself. Like the childhood game of “telephone,” after so many re-tellings it is hard to find where the facts of a story stop and where the fantasy begins.  Take the story of Bathsheba Sherman as one example. No one knew her name or her history besides maybe a local historian or two, prior to being mentioned in the film titled, The Conjuring. In fact, most people nationally, and globally, had never heard of her until the movie came out in 2013.

The movie was said to be based on the files of paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, who had visited the home of the Perron family in the 1970s. The family claimed to have been tormented by evil spirits in their home in Burrillville, Rhode Island.  Let me make this perfectly clear from the beginning, there was a real person named Bathsheba Sherman who lived in Burrillville, but she was not the person that the movie portrayed her to be. Bathsheba lived in another part of Burrillville. She neither lived nor worked on the old Arnold Estate, which was the property the Perron family purchased in 1971.

It was not until the 1970's that mysterious rumors sprang up out of thin air, ruining Bathsheba’s reputation posthumously. No one in town had ever heard of any questionable events regarding Bathsheba, but all of a sudden, stories were spreading like wildfire in this small community. Older folks who respected history became agitated by the false accusations, while the younger more superstitious ones wondered about the possibilities of this spine-chilling folklore actually being real.

In the movie, it was stated that Bathsheba Sherman was a witch who worshiped the Devil, sacrificed her baby to Satan and then hung herself from the tree in the back yard.  Accounts in the movie portray Bathsheba’s spirit allegedly terrorizing all who live in the home, also causing all the different tenants over the years to kill their own children, and allegedly possessing Carolyn Perron. This is false.

None of the so-called history that was told in the film, The Conjuring, has anything to do with the real Bathsheba Sherman or the true history of the house on Round Top Road. It is a disservice to the memory of both Bathsheba Sherman’s family and that of the Arnold family that these horrific fabrications have been spread, whether it was done purposely or not.

The facts are not hard to find with thorough research and diligent investigating by truth seekers.  The real Bathsheba Sherman was born on March 10, 1812, to parents, Ephraim Thayer and Hannah Taft. Ephraim's first wife was named Bathsheba Pain. It is safe to assume that his daughter was named after his first wife or a relative in the family, as that was quite common given that time period.  For the record, Bathsheba was not an Arnold as Andrea Perron claims in her book House of Darkness, House of Light.*  In fact, Bathsheba was born a Thayer. Another point to mention is that Bathsheba never worked on the property of the Old Arnold Estate, nor did she care for a child that died on the property.  She was never accused of being a witch, nor was there any accusations of any accidental death or murder involving either Bathsheba or any other persons or infants.

* Pages 299 & 453, Kindle Version, Volume One. 

By the age of 32, Bathsheba married Judson Sherman, and soon after the couple started a family.  Herbert Leander Sherman was the only one out of the four Sherman children to live to adulthood. Herbert’s headstone states that he was born in 1850, however the 1850 census records show him to be one year old at the time it was recorded in August of that year.

Herbert Sherman’s first marriage was to Georgianna Irons, and took place on January 7, 1872.  Not much is known about Georgianna except that her parents names were William and Mary Irons and that they were from Glocester, Rhode Island. The young couple were happily married for only three short years when tragedy struck. Georgianna passed away on February 11, 1875.  She is buried with the rest of the Sherman family at the Riverside Cemetery in Harrisville.

Her headstone epitaph reads:
"Why should we grieve for one so pure,
 Our loss to her is gain,
 Her happiness is now secure,
 Our sorrows still remain."--

Herbert married for a second time, to a Ms. Anna Jane Phair on December 4, 1880. The pair had two sons, William, born in 1881; and Fred, born in 1883. Sadly, William died in 1900, at the age of 19.

All of the Sherman’s children, including Herbert, are interred at the Cemetery in Harrisville with Bathsheba, Judson and Bathsheba’s family. None of the children died of any suspicious or questionable circumstances.

Judson Sherman passed away on October 1, 1881, at the age of 68 years. Probate records indicate that Herbert was listed as the sole heir to the family estate after his mother. The Sherman estate at the time of Judson’s death was worth a little over $15,000.00.  By January 2, 1883, Bathsheba had remarried, this time to Benjamin Greene, a farmer from Providence.  Both parties had lost their spouses in death, and it appears that more than likely the pair may have married out of necessity, as many did in those days.

Bathsheba eventually succumbed to old age, dying from a stroke of paralysis in her bed at home, on May 25, 1885.  Her obituary, from the Burrillville Gazette read, “Bethsheba [SIC], widow of the late Judson Sherman, died at her late residence Monday morning last, from a sudden attack of paralysis, aged 72 years. The funeral services were held on Thursday, Rev. A.H. Granger officiating, and the interment took place at Riverside Cemetery, Harrisville. She was the last member of the Thayer family, once numerous and well known in this town, her son, Herbert Sherman, being the only near relative remaining.”—

As you can see by the documented records, Bathsheba Sherman died an old woman in her bed at home. She did not hang herself as the movie would have you believe. The question now would be, “where did all these over the top stories come from?”  The answer is actually more simple than one would think. But first, let’s go over the other stories that have also gained infamy by their erroneous attachment to the old Arnold Estate on Round Top Road as well.

We have already established that Bathsheba never lived at the old Arnold Estate, nor did she work there. She did not commit suicide either, but died of old age. So where did this idea of a woman hanging herself come from? The stories that started in the 1970s also included one about a lady named Susan Arnold who allegedly hung herself in the barn on the property.  I believe that whomever started this rumor assumed, given the same last name, that Susan Arnold must have lived at the old Arnold Estate. The fact was that Susan Arnold lived in another part of town, and did not commit suicide in the house or outside in the barn, as told and retold over the years.

The Black Book of Burrillville, a macabre record of unusual deaths in town, which has been added to over the years, lists various unusual deaths ranging from murder to suicides, also listing them by category.  Although it is noted that Susan Arnold did kill herself, as I stated before, she did not live at the old Arnold Estate.  According to her obituary in the local paper, dated April 13, 1866,  it read, “Susan Arnold, wife of John, hung herself in a chamber of her residence on Sunday, April 6; aged 50 years. She was the daughter of Dexter Richardson, Esq. The circumstances were as follows: on Monday morning, she went about her household duties as usual and while Mr. Arnold (who is an invalid) was conversing with a neighbor; she went upstairs. In about ten minutes the neighbor left, and Mr. Arnold started to go upstairs, as was his custom, to try his strength. At the head of the stairs he turned to go up another flight, when he missed the key from the door of a store-room, and then he had suspicions that something was wrong.

He immediately tried the door and found it locked on the inside. He tried to push the door in, but was so weak he could not. He then went through another room and through a window into a shed-roof and into another window, and there found his wife suspended from a wardrobe hook with a very small cord.

They immediately cut her down, but the vital spark had fled. She had evidently made every preparation for the act. She had a loaded gun, a dirk knife and a phial of mercury in the room with her; and had also laid out upon a bed in another room all the clothes for her burial. It is a sad affliction to her friends. “ —-

As terrible a story as that one is, the fact of the matter is that she didn’t commit suicide at the old Arnold Estate on Round Top Road. That makes all the difference in the story. If that wasn’t bad enough, there were more stories of suicides, rumors of drownings and a few suspicious deaths that seemed to somehow become attached to the home. All untrue of course.  The next story thrown around was the suicide of Mr. John Arnold, the son of Edwin Arnold and brother to Abigail Butterworth. When Edwin Arnold died, he did not pass the old Arnold Estate to John, he passed it to his son-in law, William Butterworth, Abigail’s husband. 

Although John Arnold did commit suicide, he did not kill himself in the attic of the old Arnold Estate because he did not live there. According to the Black Book of Burrillville, John Arnold committed suicide in 1911, at his own home which was near Tarkiln.  His obituary in the Pascoag Herald mentions that he had been in poor health for several years, and “in a fit of despondency he took a dose of paris green* and the efforts of a physician to save his life was unavailing.” John Arnold was 57 years old when he died, and his funeral was held at the Universalist Church, with Rev. W. S. Turner officiating the services. He was later interred in Douglas.

*Paris Green is a highly toxic crystalline powder used as a rodenticide and insecticide.
  
We have established that neither Susan Arnold, nor John Arnold died at the old Arnold Estate, but what about Edwin Arnold?  Although he did once own the property on Round Top Road, even he died elsewhere. His obituary dated in 1903, mentioned that his body was found “beside a stone wall on the Smith Aldrich farm north of the Sherman Stock farm.”  This information was kindly provided to me by current owner of the home, Norma Sutcliffe.

 Apparently, Mr. Arnold had stopped to rest there and he “died of natural causes resulting from exposure.” He had been missing for seven weeks, before Frank Pierce had found what was left of his body.  His remains were taken to Waterman’s undertaking rooms to be prepared for his funeral and subsequent burial. With all these misrepresented stories, it seems not even one can hold up when examined thoroughly.

You might ask yourself then, if Bathsheba Sherman, Susan Arnold, John Arnold and even Edwin Arnold did not die at the Arnold Estate, did anyone?  The answer is, yes; however, those deaths were from natural causes, such as illness or old age. Remember, the farm is over 300 years old, so it would be ignorant on anyone’s part to think that house has never seen one death.

Are there any documents of deaths at the old Arnold Estate? Yes.  According to family records of remaining descendants of the Arnold family, Sally Eddy passed away at the home, as did her two children, after suffering from Typhus.  I am sure over the span of the 300 years that the farm has stood, there are other relatives who have lived and died in the home, or on the property, but none of an unusual nature. 

There was one man who died on the property who had been tied to a notorious scandal a few years before. Jarvis Smith was born in April of 1844, in the state of Rhode Island. According to the 1860 census, he was living with his mother, Elizabeth, 44; and brother, Clovis, 18, in Smithfield, Rhode Island. The United States Civil War Index notes that at some point between 1861-1865, Jarvis served as a private, in Company F of the 9th Regiment, Rhode Island Infantry.  By 1898, Jarvis met a turning point in his life when he was charged with the murder of Brinton Rounds. Born in 1863, Brinton was the son of Arnold and Marcy Rounds of Foster, Rhode Island. According to the 1885 State Census, his listed occupation was a farm laborer in Foster.

 In October of 1898,  Brinton was stabbed to death, and Jarvis was charged with his murder. I could not find any further details on the circumstances of the case,  but I did find that Jarvis was acquitted of all charges.

 His name was well “known  around the state” as the newspaper stated, “as the man who stabbed Brinton Rounds at Foster, in October, 1898.”  So how did Jarvis Smith die? His body was found, laying face down in a “rickety shed along the highway,” by two men who were “passing along the road leading from Round Top to Douglas.”  The shed was on the property of the old Arnold Estate. The Butterworth family was notified and Dr. Wilcox was called. When the doctor finally arrived, he ascertained the Jarvis had died from natural causes, predominately exposure to the elements after passing out from extreme drunkenness.

The 1900 census lists Jarvis as having worked for William Mowry in Smithfield as a laborer at Mowry’s steam sawmill. The newspaper stated that “since his trial for the murder of Brinton Rounds, he had been working at various things in Foster and Burrillville.”  The two weeks prior to his death, Jarvis had worked at a sawmill in Douglas. The Saturday before his death, he went on a bender lasting several days, eating little to nothing and drinking his cares away. Jarvis was 57 years old when he died, with no wife or children of his own. The final words of his obituary notice stated, “He was possessed of rather more than usual intelligence of his class and was a peaceable, kindly disposed citizen when sober.” —

So, we have learned that although there are a few deaths we can tie to the property, there are no documents of truly unusual types of deaths having occurred at the old Arnold Estate.  But what about the murder of Prudence Arnold that Lorraine Warren claimed took place in the pantry of the home?

The Uxbridge Tragedy, as the newspapers labeled it, was truly a very sad story, but it didn’t take place at the old Arnold Estate. Instead, it took place at the Richardson house in Uxbridge, Massachusetts in 1849. According to the Rochester Republican, William Knowlton, 22, cut the throat of 12-year-old Prudence Arnold, after she refused to marry him.

The Woonsocket Patriot also covered the story, adding that little Mary Thayer of Burrillville, was at the house with Prudence that day. Although Knowlton convinced Prudence to go upstairs, Mary remained downstairs and did not witness the actual act. She did say that when she saw Knowlton come down the stairs, she could see that he had a lot of blood on his hands. She ran up the stairs only to find Prudence laying on the floor, making noises. She eventually bled to death.

After apprehending Knowlton, the constable interrogated him. It was reported that Knowlton resolutely stated he had every intention to kill Prudence and followed through with it, because as he said, “love and jealousy would lead a man to do anything.” 

Some of the papers revealed that Knowlton was of low moral perception, and was prone to drinking a lot. The defense tried to use the insanity plea, but that failed in the end. Knowlton was found guilty of the murder of Prudence Arnold, convicted and sentenced to death by hanging.  Again, as horrific as this story may be, it did not take place at the Arnold Estate in Burrillville, Rhode Island.

Now that I have proven to you that none of the alleged murders or suicides took place at the old Arnold Estate, let’s look go back to Bathsheba’s story now and analyze how on earth this urban legend of sorts could have possibly started and taken on a life of its own over the years. 

For starters, you have to think back to when the rumors began.  The Kenyon family owned the property before the Perron’s bought it in 1971, and before that, the Kenyon’s ancestors, the Butterworth’s and even earlier, the Arnold’s had owned it since the 1700s.  Prior to the Perron family purchasing the property, there was no mention whatsoever of any sort of murders, witchcraft accusations or any sort of scandalous events tied to Bathsheba Sherman.

So were there any sort of terrifying stories in the local area that could have inspired the Bathsheba Sherman story? Yes. During my research of the history of Burrillville, I found another interesting tale about the Old Paul Place or "The Old Paul House."  It was said to be in ruins even at the time the book," Burrillville: As It Was, As It Is" was written in 1856. The home, or "castle" as it was called, was said to have been originally built and lived in by the Ballou family. Years later, Paul Smith and his family took up residence on the property.

“Not far from the center of the town, is a house, fast crumbling down, which has long been known as the above title ("Old Paul Place"). It was originally the residence of an ancient family of Ballou’s, a common name in this town.  A little to the east of the old castle are four graves where they were buried.

It was afterward occupied by Paul Smith. The old man met with many misfortunes which gives the place a romantic interest. His wife was insane for many years. 
She was confined in a lonely room, and with none of the appliances with which modern science and philanthropy soothe and improve the stricken mind, she sank into hopeless idiocy. One of the sons, an athletic young man, was engaged in a foot race in Slatersville, when he burst a blood-vessel and died in a short time.

Several families have resided there since Paul Smith died, but the edifice is at present forsaken,  the moss-grown roof has partly fallen, the massive chimney is breaking down, and the wild wind shrieks through the crazy fabric like the pitiful wail of its ruined  mistress. The forest is growing up all around it, and timersome do not like to frequent the place after nightfall. The raven croaks hoarsely from the open gable, and the twilight bat flits undisturbed through the forsaken and desolate apartments."----
 "Burrillville: As It Was, As It Is." (Horace Keach, 1856)

Could this story have inspired part of the idea of the Bathsheba tale? Quite possibly. Not only does it speak of the mistress of the house becoming insane, but it speaks of the fact that many in the area were easily frightened by old, scary houses.  Then comes the story of Laura Sherman who is buried in her family cemetery on Buck Hill. Local teenagers have been flocking to this spot for decades due to the legend that if you circle her grave three times on a full moon, that she will appear.

The story about the Old Paul Place could have been passed down through the years and perhaps parts of that mixed with the old legend tripping tales of Laura Sherman’s grave on Buck Hill could have made for one big ghost story that has mistakenly become attached to the wrong person.

According to retired journalist and local historian Kent Spottswood, “This whole story is one of 1970’s folklore fantasy.”  Spottwood’s opinion is that after the publication of the Satanic bible, which was first published in 1969, that was when stories of devil worship really hit the mainstream. He also mentioned that many young women who were lonely and seeking power, turned to Wicca, becoming solitary practitioners of the craft, which became almost fashionable at the time.  It appears that someone, influenced by current events happening at that present time may have taken pieces of Burrillville history- real events, real people, and intertwined them with grossly fabricated, false stories. This not only sullied the reputation of Bathsheba Sherman, but all who were involved or lived on the property during those times.

It’s not a matter of making up a theory and saying prove me wrong,” remarked Spottswood. “But that is exactly what has happened in the case of Bathsheba Sherman, and the old Arnold Estate’s history.”

The idea that out of all those years, one day this story just happened to come out of the woodwork to reveal itself is quite ludicrous. Bathsheba Sherman was not related to Salem witches, nor was she a witch. She was never suspected of witchcraft and was never accused of any crimes, murders or suspicious deaths. That entire idea was “conjured” up in the mind of someone either overly imaginative or delusional.  To make matters worse, once the rumors had spread, there was no taking them back.  Again, like the game of “telephone,” after this story was told and retold more and more, ridiculous claims have become attached to the story. And now we have the biggest fabrication of all, the film The Conjuring.

Kent Spottswood searched tirelessly for the history of both the Arnold property and Bathsheba Sherman’s life. At one point he even asked some of his lawyer friends to do some digging in the archives, in places the average person would not be allowed to look. After all the time spent searching for any shred of evidence that would back up the slanderous claims about Bathsheba, they “came up with nothing.”   There are no inquest records about any deaths of infants in the care of Bathsheba or of her own children dying of a suspicious nature. The facts are that there are no records in existence, because none of these events ever happened. According to the current owner of the old Arnold Estate property, Norma Sutcliffe, she also did thorough research on the home’s history and came to the same conclusion as Spottswood, that none of the accusations against Bathsheba ever took place as portrayed in the movie or Andrea Perron’s book.   

Norma insists that while visiting her house several years ago, Lorraine Warren walked around the home and told her, "This is such a loving home and the most wonderful place for the children.”  When asked by Sutcliffe why the Perron’s had experienced supernatural events and her family had not, Norma claims that Lorraine’s explanation was that certain dynamics within families can give rise to supernatural activity in a home. Whatever the case may have been, Norma and her husband have lived in the home since 1987, and besides the occasional creaking noises and doors being opened by drafty rooms, she states there hasn’t been any events she would credit to the spirit realm.  “Nothing has ever happened here that could not be explained by other things,” Norma added. Sutcliffe went on to mention that she told the same thing to the Providence Journal back in 1997. 

I received a package of sorts from Norma  while working on this chapter in my book. Among the many invaluable newspaper clippings dating back as early as 1849, up to the present day, I found a clipping of what appears to be a magazine article with the year “1985” scribbled on the margin. The headline of the piece read, “Fashion Model Meets Headless Ghost.”  At first glance it looked like a common tabloid story you might find while standing in line at the grocery store, but as I read the text of it something else became quite clear, it was all too familiar. 

The article described a couple by the names of Carol and Ronald Barron, giving accounts of their horrific experiences in their Rhode Island home.  The photograph actually shows the Old Arnold Estate, although the names were obviously changed for the article. From vicious attacks to horrific sounds, it details accounts one by one, as claimed by the lady of the house, Carol Barron, a former fashion model turned housewife. It highlights that the Warrens came to the rescue, per the Barron family’s request, but that although the Warrens tried to do their best to rid the home of the evil entities, their efforts failed.

 The most intriguing part of this article was towards the end, when Ed Warren was quoted mentioning that the 300 year old home had seen tragedies, such as suicides, drownings and even murder.  He also went on to mention that an 98-year-old woman had lived there who practiced witchcraft and as a gift to the Devil, she murdered her own child by driving a nail through it’s head.  Interesting, isn’t it?

Another thing to mention is that the article was written by a journalist named Tony Spera. Upon further  investigating, it turns out that he is Ed and Lorraine Warren’s son-in-law. The article then ends with the mention that the home was set to be buried under a huge reservoir planned to be constructed.  Of course we all know that didn’t take place, as the house still stands today. 

If this was the same home, and the Warrens claimed it was so plagued with problems that the only option was for it to be buried underwater, why did Lorraine tell Norma years later that the home was such a lovely place?  I think only  Lorraine Warren has the answer for that one.

My personal opinion on the “haunting” aspect of the home is that no one truly knows what happened in the house, except for the people who lived there at the time.  The fact that current owners of the home claim they do not experience negative activity leads me to believe that perhaps whatever was plaguing the Perron family while living there was brought there and left  when they moved.  Still, this chapter is not meant to be about the paranormal, but instead it is about the true history of the property and of Bathsheba.

Bathsheba Sherman was buried at the cemetery in Harrisville, alongside her first husband Judson, her children and other immediate family members. Her funeral was officiated by Rev. A. H. Granger, who was a well known and highly respected Baptist minister. Had Bathsheba been suspected of any sort of wrongdoing in her lifetime, there would have been a mention of it somewhere.

Another thing to consider, if such suspicion of her being involved in any sort of satanic rituals or witchcraft had been raised, she would have been shunned by the community and would not have had the full honors bestowed on her as a member of her church in her beloved hometown. 

To give any entity an identity and attach to them the name or stories of people who were once actual living human beings and then sully them in death is so very wrong.  This has happened to poor Bathsheba, and for far too long. My job as a writer is to sift through the story and get to the raw facts. Sometimes we find out that stories are not fact based, and so we have the responsibility to provide the true information to the public in order to set the stories straight. I truly hope that with this chapter, and the information I have posted on my blog, that Bathsheba’s true story will finally be told correctly.

I also hope that the stories of Susan, Edwin, John and Prudence Arnold will be told accurately, as well as the story of Jarvis Smith’s life and death.  A wise man once  told me, “It’s how we treat our dead that defines who we are.” So let us all treat these stories with the care and respect that they so deserve."


PLEASE HELP THE BURRILLVILLE HISTORICAL & PRESERVATION SOCIETY RAISE FUNDS TO REPLACE BATHSHEBA'S HEADSTONE!!  Her stone has been damaged beyond repair over the years due to the horrible vandalism caused by visitors who believed the horrid lies in the film, "The Conjuring." Please help us to help Bathsheba!  You can click here to donate to the fundraiser at Go Fund Me, or you can contact Betty Mencucci at the Burrillville Historical & Preservation Society at: 16 Laurel Hill Ave, Pascoag, Rhode Island, 02859 or call them at 401-568-8534.

----------- Copyright 2016, "Stories of the Forgotten: Infamous, Famous & Unremembered," by J'aime Rubio 
( ISBN-13:  978-1523981175)  www.jaimerubiowriter.com

All rights reserved.  J'aime Rubio identified as the AUTHOR and PUBLISHER of the work in accordance with all U.S. Copyright laws. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without prior written permission by the author/publisher.

Source Citations:

U.S. Census, 1850, 1860, 1870, 1880, 1885, 1900; United States Civil War Index, 1861-1865; Marriage, Death records from Burrillville Town Hall, Vol. 1. Deaths, 1854-1900, Vol. 1-A Marriages, 1846-1900; Bathsheba Sherman’s Will, (5-BUR-5-511), Public Records; Black Book of Burrillville; “Burrillville: As It Was, As It Is,” Horace Keach, 1856; Thayer Family Genealogy Records, Ancestry & Family Search; Information courtesy of Norma Sutcliffe: Copies of obituaries in archived Burrillville Gazette and Pascoag Herald, 1885, 1866, 1903, 1900, 1911, “Fashion Model Meets Headless Ghost,” Tony Spera, (unknown publisher), 1985; Providence Journal, 1997; Harrisville Cemetery records; U.S. Register of Historic Places; Find-a-grave; Baptist Missionary Magazine, 1848; Rochester Republican, 1849; Woonsocket Patriot, 1849; “House of Darkness, House of Light”- Andrea Perron, Author; Interview with Norma Sutcliffe, owner of Old Arnold Farm; Interview with Kent Spottswood, retired Journalist and local Historian.



Tuesday, April 30, 2019

The Mystery at the Maiden's Grave - Amador County History



Up Highway 88, just about 30 miles east of the town of Pioneer sits a monument known as the Maiden’s grave. The story behind this marker is quite interesting because it starts way back in 1850, during the time when families coming from the Eastern and Midwestern states were traveling in groups, trekking the dangerous terrain of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in hopes of starting a better life for themselves in California.

On one such trip, a young girl named Rachael fell ill and died as the group was traveling over the Carson Pass area. They stopped and buried the young girl in a wooded area under the base of a large Fir tree, and her mother as grief stricken as she was for having to leave her daughter’s body in the middle of unknown territory, vowed she would return one day to her daughter’s meager burial site.
As the years went on, Rachael’s mother grew older and older, and by the early 1900’s, over 50 years after her daughter’s death, she attempted to find the spot where she buried Rachael so many years before.

Unfortunately, she was unsuccessful in her quest and she returned from whence she came. After word spread in Amador County about the return of Rachael’s mother, various people who had been visiting nearby Kirkwood, just 10 miles to the east, had remembered running across a marked grave nearby in their travels.  The grave was located, and since word spread about this situation, others began remembering that it once was marked with a wooden cross that had the name “Melton” on it along with the date “October 4, 1850.”  Assuming that this grave was Rachael’s these guests from Kirkwood had a small headstone placed for Rachael in 1903.  This would now be known as the “Maiden’s Grave” and it would become the 28th Historical Landmark in California.

Fast forward to 1986, and we learn that a local property owner, Steven Ferrari who lived in the area just about 2 miles from the “Maiden’s Grave” came upon a grave with a rock outline on it while clearing overgrown brush on his land. As it turns out, this is more than likely Rachael’s true resting place. (GPS coordinates: N 38° 38.357 W 120° 08.677) Mr. Ferrari had a plaque erected for this young lady buried in his backyard, and for those who know where it is, this is now known as the “Real Maiden’s Grave.”

So who is buried at the first location you might ask? Well, it took historians several years to research but as it turns out the answers were easier to find than you might think. According to the book “Annals of Iowa” there is a transcribed journal of a man named William Edmondson, and in that very journal he speaks of his journey from Iowa, through the Midwestern states and passing through Native-American territory and finally up the mountains through Colorado, Nevada and into California. When they finally made it to Tragedy Spring they found a wooden epitaph carved on the base of an old Fir tree. Shortly thereafter a member of his group fell ill and passed away, his name was Allen Melton. The date was October 4, 1850. The group buried their friend and continued on their journey finally stopping in Webberville, a now non-existent gold mining town that once was located along the American River just between Diamond Springs and Placerville.

In ending, although the historical landmark is still called the “Maiden’s Grave,” (GPS coordinates N 38° 37.908 W 120° 10.274) we know now that it wasn’t a maiden buried there at all, but a forgotten man.  If you are ever up in the vicinity of the Maiden’s Grave on Hwy 88, please drop in and pay your respects to Mr. Allen Melton. ---

(Copyright 2018- J'aime Rubio, www.jaimerubiowriter.com)

Sources:

Annals of Iowa, published in 1907, Page 535 (Journal of William Edmondson)