CHAPTER 3
DYING TO BE GOOD
ANTWERP, 1873
Great excitement in the neighborhood—abortion and death—arrest of Dr. Seymour and Mrs. Sprague—taken to Ogdensburg.
—Watertown Re-Union, January 23, 1873
They dubbed it the “Antwerp Sensation” for the public interest generated when a young servant woman named Emma Baritau became the victim of an apparent botched abortion in the town of Antwerp in 1873, for which a doctor and “vixen” were arrested. Because of societal views of unwed mothers in the late 1800s, many young women—to save their reputations and that of their masters or whomever got them pregnant—were sent away to have the pregnancy “taken care of.” In effect, they were dying to be “good,” for “good girls” didn’t get pregnant out of wedlock. But the lack of proper skill, hygiene and medical paraphernalia by midwives and medical personnel looking to make a quick buck off another’s misfortune resulted in a wave of abortion-murders and deaths at the turn of the century. Even with New York state abortion laws that had been in effect since 1830, countless doctors risked incarceration and the loss of their medical licenses to perform them. Sadly, there was always a demand for the clandestine procedure, making it potentially a lucrative business for those willing to put their livelihoods on the line. The law stated that any attempt to induce abortion at any stage of pregnancy, by any means (i.e. drugs, instruments, etc.), was considered a misdemeanor punishable by up to a year in prison, and a successful abortion after quickening (when a woman first feels fetal movement between fourteen and twenty-one weeks of pregnancy) was considered to be second-degree manslaughter. The exception, in New York State, was if abortion was clearly necessary to save the life of the woman, as advised by two physicians. Whereas the 1830 laws were designed to prosecute abortionists only, in 1845, the law was amended to make a pregnant woman who knowingly submitted to an abortion guilty of a misdemeanor, as well, regardless of whether she was forced to undergo one against her will, which was often the case.
Postcard of Antwerp, circa 1907. Published by the United Art Publishing Company, New York City.
According to the Watertown Re-Union of January 23, 1873, Emma Baritau was a girl of “not more than 20 years of age” who had come to Antwerp from the town of Wilna where her family lived while searching for work a year earlier. She was “good looking and engaging in appearance” and was said to have been “modest and hard working.” She was first hired by the Proctor House hotel as a servant, or dining room girl. Then Frank Swan hired her, and she went to live with him. Two days before Christmas in 1873, the young girl was sent from her employer’s house to the home of the widow Arizilla Sprague (some sources call her Alzina). Sprague was an “elderly vixen of notorious antecedents and exceedingly doubtful virtue” who lived just over the county border in the town of Fowler, several miles east of Keene’s Station. Sprague was described as a heavy-set woman with a dark complexion who was about fifty years old—not exactly what I would call “elderly,” as the Re-Union called her. Her manner was said to be “quite reticent and apparently of great firmness,” according to the Daily Journal of January 18, 1873. Emma spent her final holidays with Sprague, a woman she had never met, when she should have been spending them with family. At the time of her arrival, Emma was “sprightly and apparently well,” according to the Ogdensburg Journal of January 14, 1873. On New Year’s Eve, Dr. Seymour of Antwerp was called to the home. Eight days (and three more doctor’s visits) later, the young and vibrant woman was dead. Her body was identified by a milliner named Miss Aurilla Wight of Antwerp.
Coroner Dr. J.R. Furness of Ogdensburg was summoned to the scene to perform an inquest, and a postmortem examination performed by Dr. Parmelee of Gouverneur revealed an abortion had been performed on the young woman. To that, Dr. Seymour testified that “an operation for miscarriage was performed before he was called in.” Call it what you will, but he was still looking at manslaughter. Furthermore, he said that the second time he visited the home, the girl had given birth to a premature baby who was left at the house. If such was the case, the body of the infant could not be produced, and Mrs. Sprague denied ever seeing a baby. Clearly, one of them was not being entirely forthcoming.
Courtesy of the author.
The Journal said:
The testimony of Dr. Seymour and Mrs. Sprague, taken not in the presence of each other, was conflicting in many important particulars and indicated to the minds of the jurors that those witnesses were the persons who performed the operation which resulted in the death of the victim, and they gave as their verdict that the said Emma Barito [sic] came to her death from the effects of abortion performed by the hands of Dr. E. Seymour and Mrs. Arizilla Sprague.
Coroner Furness notified District Attorney Brinkerhoff by telegraph of his findings, and a warrant for the arrest of Mrs. Sprague was delivered to police officer J.H. Murphy; while a warrant for the arrest of Dr. Seymour was delivered to Officer William Earl. Both were subsequently arrested and taken to Ogdensburg, where they were brought before the justice of the peace, since the tragedy of the Jefferson County girl occurred just over the border in St. Lawrence County. Brinkerhoff then questioned the pair. Testimony was also taken of Coroner Furness and Dr. Parmelee, who performed the postmortem examination and reported the cause of death; Mr. Proctor, the victim’s employer, who swore to the time and date that the victim left his house to go to Mrs. Sprague’s; and Miss Aurilla Wight, who identified the body. The testimony of several important witnesses was postponed because the trains they were to arrive on experienced delays. So Coroner Furness and Dr. Parmelee were brought in for additional testimony relating to the condition of the body when they were first called to the scene.
While the Re-Union had previously made no bones about their contemptuous opinion of Mrs. Sprague, they heaped praise on the doctor, saying: “Dr. Seymour is a young physician of excellent character and is deservedly popular in Antwerp and wherever known. He will doubtless be able to vindicate himself fully from the charge of criminal malpractice.” They were correct.
From the Library of Congress Prints and Photographs Division.
The Ogdensburg Journal, on January 17, 1873, said:
On Friday (to-day) the case came on again, and, as the evidence was not sufficient to hold Dr. Seymour on the heinous charge, he was discharged from custody. Mrs. Sprague is still held, and her examination is now going on…After having been discharged, Dr. Seymour was put upon the witness stand for the people against Mrs. Sprague, and enough evidence was elicited to make a case. Mrs. Sprague was held for trial for the murder of Emily Barito [sic] and her child by forcibly producing an abortion, and a warrant was made out for her committal. She left here for Gouverneur this evening for the purpose of procuring an order, if possible, to admit her to bail.
Alzina Sprague was arrested and held on $2,000 bail to await grand jury action. She was discharged two months later, according to the Ogdensburg Advance, because “the Grand Jury [was] unable to find a true bill against her from evidence which was brought before them.” Thus, as was so often the case in similar situations at the time, nobody was held accountable for the murder of Emma Baritau or her unborn child.
CHAPTER 4
THE BRUTAL SLAYING OF LITTLE SARAH CONKLIN
RUTLAND, 1875
They speak of her as a beautiful girl, large of her age, and of extraordinary development. She was the pride and comfort of her adopted parents, whose grief at her terrible death is very great.
—Watertown Re-Union, December 9, 1875
On November 30, 1875, ten-year-old Sarah Conklin left School No. 13 in the town of Rutland around 4:00 p.m., walking home. Her teacher, Mrs. Martha Andrews, saw the young girl walk to the edge of the school property with a few other students before continuing on her way alone as darkness began to fall. A farmer by the name of Elbert Fuller saw the child walking toward the woods behind the schoolhouse that afternoon, taking a path that was a straight line between the school and her home. He s
aid, “She had on a red hood and at times was on a run…I saw no one else near her,” according to the Watertown Re-Union. However, Fuller admitted his view was somewhat obscured by the “knolls and hollows in the field” (and the fact that it was just starting to get dark out), but he was certain he hadn’t heard anything suspicious. He was the last person known to have seen Sarah Conklin alive.
Sarah was born Sarah Polley in Massena, New York, and was given up for adoption to distant relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Alvin Conklin of Rutland. The day the loving couple carried their beautiful baby girl across the threshold of their home was the happiest day of their lives. In stark contrast, on that frigid night in November 1875, as Mr. Conklin carried the body of his little girl across that same threshold, it was decidedly the worst day of his life. Details of the grim discovery were disclosed at the coroner’s inquest at the Conklin residence on December 8. The fifty-one-year-old farmer said that, on the day Sarah was murdered, he had dropped her off at school between eight and nine that morning and started watching for her to return around three-fifty in the afternoon, as he went about his chores. After putting down hay and bedding for the horses and cleaning out the stalls, he returned to the house to “get a pail of swill” and again glanced in the direction that Sarah should be coming from to see if there was any sign of her. He then went to the cow stable and “turned the pail of swill into the trough for the hogs.” Stepping behind the cows, he slid the window open and peeked out to see if his daughter was coming yet. Conklin saw his employee, William Fuller, in the hollow below the barn, but he didn’t see Sarah. Walking back outside, he stood in front of the barn and heard a scream coming from the direction of the schoolhouse. He continued listening for a minute, but heard nothing more and thought it was likely just children still playing at the school; yet something deep inside told him it might be Sarah. Becoming uneasy and concerned that his daughter might catch cold if she didn’t get home soon, Conklin hitched up his horse and buggy and set out to find her; he couldn’t remember if she was dressed warm enough for the weather—and he needed to be sure the scream he heard hadn’t been Sarah’s.
Courtesy of the author.
After driving to the teacher’s house on Middle Road and learning that Sarah was not there and that her teacher’s mother saw Sarah enter the woods right after school, Conklin hurried home to see if she had returned yet. His housemate, Mr. Gibson, said she had not. This meant Sarah had to be lost in the woods, in the dark, alone, and it was freezing out. Gibson and Conklin lit their lanterns and headed toward the woods. When Sarah wasn’t found on the first search, Conklin sent Gibson to get more manpower. Meanwhile, Conklin found the tracks where Sarah first headed into the woods and began to follow them, spotty as they were. Finally, at about 5:30 p.m., he came upon a spot where he later surmised she must have first lay, for the ground seemed to be in “disarrangement,” and then he saw her.
According to the transcript of the inquest, Conklin said:
There I circled again about where she [must have] stopped to spit blood; then I followed till I came to the two trees close together with blood on them; there again I lost her track, as I did not know which side of the tree she had taken; I looked up and saw Sarah lying on the ground; (here witness melted to tears). I went direct to her; I took her up and saw she was not stiff; her tongue protruded and her teeth were closed through her tongue; I felt of her hands to see if they were frozen; they were both frozen solid nearly to the wrist; I took my overcoat off and wrapped it around her, putting her hands inside; I felt of her feet to see if they were frozen; I found them warm or not frozen; I then went to rubbing her face and forehead; I found her nose and chin frozen; I looked up to see if Mr. Gibson and Mr. Humphrey were coming; I saw them nearly at the north end of the land leading from Mr. H’s barn with a light; I halloed [sic], and I think they answered; I waited a few seconds and halloed again that I had found her; they came to where I was; we took the body and fetched it to the house…I called for Samuel Warner and asked him to come to me quick; he met us, took Sarah in his arms; I think he carried her alone a little ways; then Mr. Gibson and others took and helped him into the house; then we put her feet into warm water and her hands into cold water; we rubbed and put alcohol on her face and body, rubbing thoroughly as we could.
Amid the frantic, futile efforts to revive the girl, one of the gentlemen sent for Mrs. Isham and Mrs. Humphrey, while a boy was sent in search of Dr. Stevens of South Rutland, who, along with Mrs. Humphrey, arrived shortly thereafter. Describing the condition of his daughter’s body and clothing, Conklin said when he came upon her in the woods, one mitten was near her feet, and the other was found some distance away. Sarah was lying with her face in the snow and her arms at her side. Her red-hooded cape was “wadded up under her right arm,” the button hole was torn out on one side of her drawers and her bonnet “seemed crowded back on her head.” But it wasn’t until they took the scarf off at the house that they found marks on her neck. The scarf, Conklin said, was “wound three times around her neck” so tightly that they could barely get their fingers under it to loosen it, but the ends were not tied together. Although they could find no pulse, the men were undeterred in their hourlong attempt to resuscitate the child. But nothing could bring her back. Sarah was dead.
Around 9:00 or 10:00 p.m. that evening, Conklin, Gibson, Humphrey, Samuel Warner and Dr. Stevens all returned to the scene of the apparent crime under the light of lanterns. They were searching for signs of a struggle or fall, but all they found in the darkness, according to Conklin, was a small stick a little larger than one inch in diameter with two knots in it. The next day, several men, including Conklin, returned again to the scene—this time finding another set of Sarah’s tracks and more blood on another tree. The day after that, they again returned with even more neighbors to “look the ground over to see if [they] could make any new discovery.” By then, the crime scene had been well-trampled and contaminated. Nevertheless, when the coroner and chief of police arrived from Watertown on December 2, yet another trek to the spot where Sarah’s body was found was in order. This time, Stillman Woods and Samuel Warner found a suspicious set of footprints just outside the tree line and followed them into the woods, where they ultimately led to the crime scene. Returning to the edge of the woods, the men then followed the tracks to where they were believed to have originated from, tracing them “step by step towards Mr. Humphrey’s. They led directly to his barnyard.” Finally, a break in the case.
Conklin told Coroner L.F. Phillips, who was conducting the inquiry:
Then I went to Mr. Humphrey’s house and called for him; he was eating his dinner; he came into the sitting room, and I told him that I wanted him to go with me; in the meantime, I whispered to Jennie Humphrey and told her to keep watch of Frank [Ruttan]; then I asked if Uncle Riley was there; they said yes…at that time the Coroner came in; I spoke to Riley about watching Frank for a while; and he stopped and seemed to think. He said, “I don’t know, but I can enlighten you a little.” He said that on the day of the murder, Frank was absent about an hour he should judge…he (Riley) went into the house about ten minutes to four o’clock on that evening…he said the boy was missing from that [time] to five o’clock…
Bingo. According to Riley, he hollered loudly to farmhand Frank Ruttan several times between 4 and 5 p.m., but to no avail. When the sixteen-year-old boy finally returned to his post, he told Riley he had been “up to feed the pigs and turkeys.” Conklin told the coroner that he “fitted Frank’s boot in several of the tracks, and it fitted perfectly;” but this was three days after the crime. The weather conditions may have altered the footprints, not to mention the heavy foot traffic from searchers and curiosity seekers. Still, Conklin became convinced, as did others, that Frank Ruttan had killed the girl, even though he was unaware of any problems between his daughter and the boy. But that would soon change, when he learned that there were, indeed, ill feelings between Sarah and Frank. Therefore, the prime suspect had the means (stick with Sara
h’s blood on it), the motive (ill feelings between them) and the opportunity (missing in action from his farm duties) to commit the heinous crime. It wasn’t looking good for a young man with a tainted past.
According to “The Rutland Murder” in the Watertown Re-Union of December 9, 1875, Frank was the illegitimate son born seventeen years earlier to a young domestic named Emily Ruttan and Watertown barber George Bromley. Mrs. Bromley took Emily and her newborn in; and when Emily left baby Frank in the care of Mrs. Bromley the following summer and never returned to get him, Mrs. Bromley did her best to raise the bastard child her husband had fathered. But then Mr. Bromley died when Frank was five years old, leaving a wife and six children. A year later, destitute and unable to feed any extra mouths, Mrs. Bromley decided to send Frank to the Jefferson County Orphan’s Asylum, where she occasionally visited him. She told Re-Union reporters, “Afterwards someone took him away, and Mrs. Cory told her that a farmer living in Rutland had adopted him.” That farmer was Henry Humphrey, and he adopted Ruttan when the boy was about twelve years old. Years later when Mrs. Bromley saw him on the street, he didn’t remember her. He, therefore, never knew his parents or relatives, and although he had some respectable family members who would be saddened by his plight, his mother “had a very bad name,” according to Mrs. Bromley; and one uncle on his mother’s side had been sent to the state prison, while another younger uncle had been sent to a house of refuge. Frank Ruttan didn’t stand a chance. According to the paper, “It was generally conceded that had not Ruttan been arrested and taken from the neighborhood when he was, he would never have been taken away alive. The younger people who knew both the deceased and Ruttan were very bitter against Ruttan. At first no one thought of murder, but now scarcely anyone in Rutland believes otherwise than that Frank Ruttan murdered Sarah Conklin.” And the postmortem examination seemed to indicate they were right, at least in as far as the death being a murder and not a freak, tragic accident.
Murder & Mayhem in Jefferson County Page 3