Thursday, January 1, 2015

Old Murder Case from 1832 Recalled

Murder Case from 1832 Recalled
 
Among the papers of Mrs. Nancy Newton, an aged lady, who died recently in West Bainbridge [Chenango Co., NY[, were found the following verses written by George Dennison a short time before he was hung in Norwich [Chenango Co., NY] for the murder of Reuben Gregory at his father's tavern in the town of Columbus [Chenango Co., NY], Sept. 30, 1832.  Henry A. Clark, this village [Bainbridge, Chenango Co., NY], was present at the inquest which took place the next day, not as a lawyer but spectator.  This was 65 years ago, when Mr. Clark was on his way to Hamilton College travelling by stage.  The tavern was on the road from New Berlin to Columbus, one of the wayside inns so common in those days for the accommodation of the farmers and drovers.  Dennison and his victim, Reuben Gregory, were both young men living in the same town and intimate friends.  Young Gregory's father was a respectable man and kept a good house.  He had refused the day of the murder to give Dennison liquor as he had already been drinking to excess, which so enraged the young man that he left the place threatening vengeance.  The elder Gregory generally wore a slouch hat and smoked considerably.
 
It happened on the day in question that the younger Gregory had teethache and towards evening went into the woodshed to try the tobacco cure, wearing his father's old hat.  In the meantime Dennison had been home for his gun and coming back to the tavern was watching for the father.  It was growing dark and in passing the woodshed door, Dennison, supposing he saw the elder Gregory smoking in his slouch hat, fired, killing the son instantly.  Dennison was arrested and placed in jail at Norwich and was brought to trial, Jan. 21, 1833.  The trial was held in the old Presbyterian church, Norwich, which stood upon the site now occupied by the Congregational church.  He was found guilty of murder and sentenced to be hung March 19, 1833.
 
Crowds of people flocked to Norwich to witness the execution.  At 11:30 a.m. on the day of the execution, Dennison, robed in white, was placed in a sleigh, containing his coffin and taken to the gallows.  He was very cool and collected, and arriving at the scaffold made an address. Several clergymen were present and made addresses, during one of which the condemned man asked the Sheriff for his tobacco box, took a chew, put it into his mouth, smilingly thanking the officer.  After the addresses were finished the rope was adjusted about the prisoner's neck and he was placed upon the drop, while standing there a prayer was made by one of the ministers three-quarters of an hour long--then Dennison was launched into eternity.  He was 27 years old and left a wife and two children.
 
The verses were probably published by one of the Norwich papers, though the source is not given.
 
                                                        Behold the murderer's shameful end,
                                                           His wretched, ignominious death
                                                        No one his name shall now defend,
                                                           Though pity heaves in every breath.
 
Here was given a cut of the Gallows and a Coffin
 
Written Previous to His Trial
 
                                                           Behold in prison you may see
                                                           A man deprived of liberty.
                                                           From Columbus once he came,
                                                           Dennison is his wretched name.
 
                                                           Behold thus lonely he doth mourn,
                                                           From his friends he now is torn.
                                                           His gloomy prison rings with pain,
                                                           He mourns and weeps and sighs in vain.
 
                                                          I hope you will a warning take,
                                                         And God's commandments do not break,
                                                         For you may assured be,
                                                         It will ruin you as it has me.
 
                                                         For now my liberty is lost,
                                                        And thus I've sold it at my cost,
                                                        Sorrow and grief must end my days,
                                                        For cleaving unto sinful way.
 
                                                        With a trembling hand and aching heart,
                                                        My friends and I are forced to part,
                                                        Tis grief to me, you may depend,
                                                        The slur I've brought upon my friends.
 
                                                        My aged father still doth live,
                                                        And my conduct doth him grieve,
                                                        My mother now in death doth sleep,
                                                        While he and I are left to weep.
 

                                                        And of his children is bereft
                                                        Out of eleven but seven are left,
                                                        Out of the seven, six are sons,
                                                        Behold I am the youngest one.
 
                                                        Of his daughters there were three,
                                                        Now two are in eternity;
                                                        There is but one now left behind,
                                                        Sorrow and anguish fill her mind.
 
                                                        Thus I have myself undone;
                                                        My time is spent, my race is run;
                                                        It is my fate for Oh! I must
                                                        Resign my body to the dust.
 
                                                       May God forgive unhappy man,
                                                       And kindly lengthen out my span,
                                                       And let me still on earth remain,
                                                       And liberty once more obtain.
 
                                                       But if I must give up my breath
                                                      Into the icy hands of death,
                                                      May I but meet my God in peace,
                                                      And dwell with him when time shall cease.

                                                      Thou steady orb! Supremely bright!
                                                      Just rising from the sea.
                                                      To cheer all nature with thy light,
                                                      What are thy beams to me!

                                                      In vain thy glories bid me rise
                                                     To hail the new-born day;
                                                     Alas! my morning sacrifice
                                                     Is still to weep and pray.

                                                     Oh! what are Nature's charms combined
                                                     To one whose weary breast
                                                     Can neither peace nor comfort find,
                                                     No friend on whom to rest.

                                                     Oh! never, never while I live,
                                                     Can my heart's anguish cease;
                                                     Come! friendly death, thy mandate give
                                                     And set my soul at peace!

[To be continued]
 
 
 
 


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