Year: 1875




Harriet, been brought up by a certain
"Uncle Neal" from whom she had run
away at fourteen, and, to prevent pursuit
or inquiry, had caused report of her
death to be circulated among her former
friends. This had succeeded, and none
of them suspected that she was still
alive. Yet, since her marriage with
Weimar, she had become exceedingly
anxious to once more see her relatives,
and especially her sister, whom she said
was married, and living in Gurnham.
Weimar refused to allow her to leave
home; and she was equally determined
to do so. Many bitter scenes took place
between them, and at length the wife
disappeared, taking with her q sum of
thirty pounds from her husbands desk.
This conduct so exasperated Weimar
that he set out in pursuit of her, and
went directly to Gurnham, whittier he
felt confident she had first proceeded
He easily traced her thither, and went at
once to the house of Ezra Gentry, to
which a stranger directed him. This
was past nine o'clock in the evening. AS
Weimar knocked at the front door, it
was opened by his wife: Upon seeing
him, she looked more indignant than





him to enter; but he pushed his way
past her. In the discussion that ensued,
he learned that she had arrived but one
hour before him, had found the house
shut up and deserted, but the back door
unlocked; and, concluding that the
family would return that night or the
following day, had entered, and, over
come with fatigue, had directly gone to
bed, when she was aroused by her hus-
bands knock. She reproached him for
following her, bade him leave the house,
where, she said, he had no right to be,
and refused to give up the money. He
thereupon commenced searching her
person, which she resisted, and O scene
of struggling and violence succeeded,
in which the woman had nearly gotten
the mastery, when Weimar, catching
sight of the clothes-line hanging near,
seized upon it.


"At first" he said, ct thought mere
ly to frighten her by threatening to
strangle her with it but no sooner had
I got the rope round her neck than a
demon seemed to possess me. I could
no more have let loose my strain upon
that rope than starving man could
have refrained from swallowing the meat
set before him. I killed her; taking q
kind of fiendish Joy in witnessing her
death-agonies, and yet all the time know
lifetime rue the deed. And so it was
know peace of mind or of conscience"


The deed committed, the next care
was to conceal the body. His wife had
brought with her merely a valise and
this and its contents he carefully burned
in the fireplace of the bedroom. There
was no time, he thought, to dig grave
and he was not sufficiently acquainted
with the premises and the neighborhood
to choose O safe place of concealment
for the body. Yet he had observed, on
his way to Gurnham, lonely and marshy
waste about half mile from the house,
where, it occurred to him, he might con-
ceal the body, for at least such time as
would allow of his getting far away from
that part of the country. And as neither
his wife nor himself were known there
nor, indeed, having both arrived after
dark, had been seen sufficiently to be
recognized again-there was apparently
no danger of the body, if found, being
identified, or of suspicion being directly
to himself.


The concealment of the body of the
murdered woman effected, the murderer
had lost no time IN making his escape
from the place -stealthily crossing the
country by night, and striking for the
nearest railroad. At his own home, no
danger menaced him. His acquaintances
all knowing the circumstances of his
wife's departure, it was easy to satisfy
their inquiries by saying that he had not
been able to discover her.


And thus he had lived for ten years,
IL IL
were dyed with the blood of his own
wife.


At the request of the dying man, the
good griest forwarded this statement to
Mrs. Gentry. And thus was at length
explained the mystery of the strange
affair which had so long puzzled and be-
wildered the good people of Durham.