Murder mystery

This 1833 print depicts the guilt of the Rev. Ephraim Avery, despite his acquittal.

By Deborah Allard Dion

Fall River is an old city, and with that comes historic neighborhoods, grand architecture, and lots and lots of stories.

Some of those stories are of scandal and murder. And, with Halloween approaching, what better time is there to revisit one of those unnerving tales that takes us back to puritanical New England and the Spindle City’s beginnings?

Kennedy Park on South Main Street, part of a bustling neighborhood that was originally part of Tiverton, was farmland long before it was home to a church, hospital, and the many conveniences of today.

It was also the site of a gruesome murder.

Sarah Maria Cornell was just 30 when she was found hanged on the property, her death first believed to be suicide, and later murder by her minister while she carried his child.

Despite some evidence to that effect written by Cornell, the minister was acquitted and the case remains unsolved nearly 200 years later.

When alive, Sarah was described as a “little black eyed sparrow of a girl” at just five feet tall, in “The Minister and the Mill Girl” by George Howe in American Heritage magazine in 1961.

In death, the details are more gruesome.

Cornell’s shoes and a red bandanna were found just feet from her body hanging so close to the frozen ground that her toes touched the dead grass. Her cheeks were frostbitten and one arm was bent up to her breast, perhaps to grab at the rope that had cut into her neck. Grass clung to her bruised knees, according to “The Phillips History of Fall River.” Her black hair “cascaded from the pleats” of her bonnet. Her tongue was stuck between her teeth, as was written in Howe’s account.

“The Phillips History” said she was dragged for some distance and apparently hung with a rope taken from a wagon on the property.

It was December 21, 1831 around 9 a.m. when Farmer John Durfee made his way through his Tiverton stack yard and saw something sway on a five-foot stake inside an enclosure.

He must have been shocked at the discovery. Durfee tried to cut her down, but was unable and called for help. He and his father and farm hands got Cornell’s body down and lay her on the ground. The coroner was called from the village and a doctor from Fall River.

She was identified and it seemed that she’d taken her own life. She was buried by a wall on the property. But the young

woman would not be resting in peace.

Pieces of a comb that belonged to Cornell and evidence of a struggle were found in two different spots on the farm. Facts and letters led to the conclusion that it could be murder at the hands of her minister.

Doctor Wilbour in Fall River told authorities that the young woman had come to see him about two months prior and disclosed that she had become pregnant by Methodist minister Rev. Ephraim Avery at a camp over the summer.

Her body was exhumed and an autopsy confirmed her condition.

A criminal complaint was filed against the minister, and details of both their lives were consumed by the public – many of which did not paint Cornell in the best light.

Facts of the case

Born to a respectable family in Rupert, Vermont, Cornell was sent to work in a mill at the age of 12 in Norwich, Connecticut by her widowed mother. She lost that job and others for a number of reasons, including “promiscuous behavior” and once for calling her Methodist elders a “pack of damn fools.” She was also thrown out of the Methodist congregation in Slatersville, Rhode Island for lewdness.

In 1828, Cornell moved to Lowell to work in a mill where she was paid $4 for a sixday week, and of that, $1.25 was withheld to pay for her lodging in the mill boarding house.

Two years later, she met Avery, a minister with an invalid wife and two children, and became one of his parishioners. The young woman still got herself into trouble, for stealing a piece of material from a shop and was said to have ridden away with a man who had treated her to wine.

Avery nearly expelled Cornell from his congregation, but she promised to reform herself and to work as his servant without pay. His wife had heard that they had been seen kissing on one occasion, and Cornell was not allowed into the house.

She was turned away once again, both from the church and her job. But the two seemed to keep coming together. They met again in Connecticut at a religious camp to save “lost sheep.” He was a minister at the camp and she was a “sheep.” The two went for a walk and Cornell, in a letter to her sister, said she tried to get away from him but could not.

During that summer, Avery was a minister in Bristol who gave guest sermons in Fall River. Cornell, then pregnant, fled to work in the Anawan Mill in Fall River, a new booming mill town. Cornell worked 12 hour shifts and found herself in yet another boarding house.

She attended one of Avery’s sermons in Fall River so she could speak with him about her plight. In a letter to her sister, she said that Avery wanted nothing to do with her and said the baby was not his.

There were more letters, including one from Avery written the day before she was murdered, asking to see her, and one from her sister offering help.

A very damning note in Cornell’s hand actually said to see the minister if anything should happen to her.

But, it was too late.

Despite his position, people came forward with information, believing he was the killer. Witnesses said they had seen him in Fall River the night of the murder, but no clear identification was made, and he had an alibi. Others said they had witnessed him and Cornell together on numerous occasions. He may have even asked her to use poison to end the pregnancy.

The clergy stood by Avery and his “good character,” according to “The Phillips History of Fall River.”

Avery, after standing trial in Newport, was found not guilty. The story was printed in newspapers all over the country. The court of popular opinion did not find the reverend innocent however, and he was nearly taken by an angry mob. His letters to Cornell were made public, and there were plays staged in New York about the tragedy.

Avery resigned from the church, and he and his family fled to Ohio where they lived on a farm until he died in 1869.

Cornell’s body was exhumed once more and moved to Oak Grove Cemetery when South Park was built in 1868.

She was hanged in what is today the westernmost part of Kennedy Park.

Cornell is buried alone, her headstone wearing thin by time and nearly illegible, having only come to Fall River a couple of months before her death. Other family members, including her mother and sister, are buried in Connecticut.

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