MYRON BU El
TELIHE
Boy Murderer.
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HIS ONLY WIRITTEN
CONFEssion
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MYRON BUEL.
THE MURDERER OF
|THMRINE || |||||||||W.
Life, Crime, Execution,
_A-TN
CONFESSION,
With Portrait and Autograph
OF THE MURDERER.
GORDON W. TREADVVELL
BINGHAMTON, N. Y.
1879.




Entered with the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.,
in the month of November, 1879, by
GoRDON W. TREADWELL, BINGHAMTON, N. Y.
-
-








- - Farm Buildings of
S - WILLIAM. C. RICHARDS
º, Plainfield, Otsego County, N. Y.
º 9 Where the Murder was committed.
K [...] -
| | 10 - -
- 2.
Barn Yard. 2. Milking Stable. 3. Hog House. 4. Cheese House. 5. Orchard. 6. D -
- --- ... 6. Dwelling House. wº ---
House. 9. Basement Barn. 10. Open Shed. 11. Hop House. 12. Highway. 13. sº 14. ºn. ºº








INTRODUCTION.
Mad; and he killed her. A tragedy in a single phrase; a double history
of brutal passion and more brutal murder in a single sentence. Such a tºgº.
dy, such a crime it is the purpose of this pamphlet to narrate. Nor would it
be fitting that a part of the story should be told without the whole. The law
must have its sway. The blood of the innocent ories out for vengeance-
retributive justice. Through all the days of doubt and sorrow that cry is
heard; while the dark angel of grief hovers over the household that now shel-
ters for a few hours the lifeless body of her who was but yesterday the sun-
shine of a peaceful home, that voice calls out unceasingly. The murdered
and dishonored victim of lust and brutality may be laid away to sleep peace-
fully under the green sod and blooming flower, but the life, the spirit that has
gone, cannot rest until the dread secret of its forced departure is made known
to the world of the living, to those who loved so fondly the darling a murder-
er's crime has torn from them.
But what does all this mean? Who is this destroyer of purity and unof-
fending life? A hardened criminal, who has gone from step to step down the
steep incline of misdeeds and a sin-blackened life? Even were it so it would
be easier to think, easier to understand the crime, that on that fair midsum-
mer day hung a pall about the sunny farmland of Otsego Go to the prison
and look among those who peer from behind the grated bars. Of them all,
who would you think was the murderer condemned? Here are faces old
and hardened: surely it is not one of these. What, no? Then who can it
be? Not that honest-faced and simple looking boy-man who in yonder cell
is gazing vacantly at the ceiling of his iron and rock-bound prison : You can-
not believe it, but it is he. There sits Myron Buel, the condemned murderer
of Catherine Mary Richards. Still you refuse to believe. It cannot be that
in that youthful brain could have arisen the demon of Cain and have been
brought into being as dark and deep a scheme as was ever woven into the
warp and woof of the mystery of death. The rattle of the chain answers; the
vigilant guard answers: It is he.
And would you hear more ? Would you know how, and where, and when
the ghastly deed was done? Why the course of ignorant love was changed
to the torrent of animal hate; how the murderer was suspected and detected;
how the meshes of damning evidence were woven around him until he is
proven guilty of the crime with which he stands charged, and the sentence,
“To be hanged by the neck until you are dead,” concludes the judicial pro-
ceedings of the law against him; how the struggle for life went on and on,
and when hope had turned her face away how the lips of the doomed man
were unsealed and the confession of his crime given to the world? If you
will read, the story will be told, the only written confession will be given and
then the book of memory be closed forever upon this chapter of crime, retri-
bution, confession and death; closed, as it began, with the swift rustle of the
death angel's wings.

BR/EF H/STORY OF THE MURDERER.
Myron A. Buel, the central figure of this dark tragedy, was born in the
town of Plainfield, Otsego County, September 12th, 1857–being only twenty-
two years old at the time of his execution, and twenty when the crime was
committed. His father is a farmer, of small means. He had two brothers
and three sisters at the time of his arrest. One brother, the oldest, named
Oliver, was taken ill during the time intervening between the Coroner's inquest
and the trial, and died soon after Myron was convicted. Until fifteen years of
age the boy Myron lived at home. His opportunities for education were
limited, and such as he possessed were not over-well improved. During these
years he received no religious training of consequence. He may be said to
have had no conception of his relations as a moral being. His character was
not remarkable or unusual in any extent during his early life. He lived and
“vegetated,” as it were, learning the work of the farm, and growing into a
fine physical youthfulness. At the age of fifteen he left home and went to
work on neighboring farms. -
His adaptability to farm employment, steady habits and prudent methods
secured him work whenever he desired. When about eighteen years old John
Richards, an uncle of the murdered girl, secured his services during the Fall
and Winter. The next Spring Mr. Richards, not needing help, recommended
Myron to his brother, William C. Richards, Supervisor of the Town, who
gave him employment. Buel's habits were of the best and he laid aside his
earnings with much caution. At times his temper would get the better of
him, but his outbursts of anger were not of frequent occurrence and he was
not considered of a quarrelsome nature. The family of Mr. Richards com-
prised his wife, Catharine Mary, a younger daughter and a young son. Em-
ployed on the farm were two hired men, one named Daniel Bowen and the
other Myron A. Buel.
Buel's demeanor to the victim of his lust and murderous brutality pre-
vious to the murder had been noticed as rather free. He had on occasions
used language to her that was improper but had always recanted and prom-
ised not to suffer a repetition. Miss Richards. did not encourage his atten-
tions or advances and this seemed to make Buel feel badly. On an occasion
shortly previous to the murder Miss Richards had threatened to inform her
parents of his addresses to her, and this angered Buel. He threatened to
leave the place, but never threatened personal violence. This was a threat
made only to the demon of passion lurking within his ignorant and brutal
brain—a threat that he carried out all too well.
THE CRIME.
On the 25th of June, 1878, the murder was committed. Mr. Richards
was at Remsen, Oneida County, on business. The young son was employed

7
in a store at West Winfield, Otsego county. On the day in question Mrs.
Richards had left home after dinner, leaving Catharine and Miss Jones, a
seamstress, at home. The younger daughter was at school. After harness-
ing the horse for Mrs. Richards to go to West Winfield, the two hired men
had gone to the hop yards, some little distance from the house, to hoe hops.
About the middle of the afternoon Buel complained to Bowen that his rubber
boots were too hot. He laid down his hoe and went to the house to get a pair
of leather boots that would relieve his feet. He was gone longer than was
necessary for this, but when he returned he told Bowen that he had found Mr.
Richards' mare and colt out of the lot on the side of the road opposite from
the house, and he had delayed to drive them back. The two men then worked on
until supper time, nothing unusual in Buel's appearance or behavior being
noticed. The stoicism and crafty self-control that was born with him served
well his purpose now in hiding the emotions that must have been surging
within. With the vision of the fair form, murdered and outraged, lying in
the stable of an animal, perhaps trampled on until unrecognizable—with that
last look of agony from the pure face of her who never did him harm, burn-
ing its way into his brain, deep and dark and cool must have been the boy
who worked on with his hoe without a trembling hand or blanched face.
Where had he gone when he went “after the boots?" Down the path to the
barn walked the murderer. He found the innocent girl in the cheese house
playing with her pet kittens. He loosed a calf tied in the barn and let it out.
He called Catharine to help him catch the calf, thinking to trap her in the
barn. All unsuspicious of her fearful fate the girl complied and went into
the barn. The heavy door swung shut behind her. The murderer threw a
heavy rope about her neck and pulled her down. The victim struggled for
her honor and her life. The rope was drawn tight that she might not cry out
or scream. Its coarse strands cut deep into her beautiful neck and stopped short
the life giving breath. The murderer now, fiercely intent upon his fiendish
purpose, struck her upon the temple with a heavy milking stool close at hand.
The murder was complete; there needed but the one additional act to clothe
it in horrors of the deepest and blackest dye. Nor was that deed want-
ing. Then the lifeless body was carried to the stable of a ferocious bull and
laid down so that it would appear that the bull had killed her. Then the ani-
mal was let loose and the perpetrator of the awful crime fancied his tracks
covered.
FINDING THE BODY.
When the two men returned from the field they found the young bull
loose, and in driving it into the stable, found the body of Catharine Mary.
Both men were horrified—Buel apparently so. The body was tenderly carried
by them into the house. Buel harnessed a horse and drove in great haste to
West Winfield, to notify Mrs. Richards and her young son. He did not find
the lady, however, and returned to the farm. He remained about the house
doing general work, assisted in the work the next day, went to the church and
viewed the remains of the murdered girl, mingling his tears with the
others.

8
THE ARREST AND INDICTMENT.
The report spread that the girl had been gored to death by the bull.
A close examination of the remains before the burial disclosed that, terrible
as had been the supposed fate of the dead girl, it was not half so horrible, so
revolting as the true story of her death. The marks upon the neck, the con-
tusion at the temple, the abrasions of the skin on many other parts of the
body, pointed indisputably to brutal murder. Then suspicion began to be
directed toward Buel. But a short time before the crime, he had told Bowen
that a relative of his, whose name was never disclosed, had succeeded in
fiendish designs upon girls by choking them to insensibility with a strap or
cord. The long absence from the field on the afternoon of the fatal day, the
circumstances of the cattle being let loose–all pointed toward Buel as the
author and perpetrator of the crime. When the guilty man knew that he was
suspected, he went to Hon. S. S. Morgan, at Winfield, for advice. While
there he was arrested by Deputy Sheriff Zadock Main, and taken to the Cor-
oner's inquest, at Plainfield Centre. Afterwards being taken before Justice
Williamson, at Unadilla Forks, he was committed, July 2d, to the Cooperstown
County jail, to await action of the Grand Jury, This was one week after the
murder was committed. He was indicted by the Grand Jury, sitting at the
September Term of the Circuit Court.
THE TRIAL.
The trial took place at an adjourned term held in Cooperstown, February
17th, 1879. Judge Murray presided. L. L. Bundy, Esq., and H. M. Ayles-
worth, Esq., assisted District Attorney Benedict in the prosecution, and the
prisoner was defended by Hon. S. S. Morgan, of West Winfield, and James A.
Lynes, Esq., of Cooperstown. The trial occupied ten days. All that human
skill and ingenuity could accomplish was brought to bear to clear the prisoner.
About twenty witnesses were called by the prosecution, who gave evidence
tending to criminate the prisoner. The defense called several witnesses who
gave evidence tending to show that the defendant did not commit the offense
charged, and rested. The proceedings of the trial aroused the most intense
interest throughout the county, the court room being crowded on every day.
The following is a brief abstract from the theory of the prosecution, as estab-
lished by the
EVIDENCE OF THE MOST IMPORTANT INTEREST AT THE TRIAL.
DANIEL G. Bowen was called as a witness, and testified as follows:
I am 32 years old, and reside at Florence, Oneida Co.; went to work for
Wm. C. Richards as a farm hand; Buel was also working there; I remember
the occasion when Catharine was found dead in the cow stable: Mr. Richards
had been gone away from home at that time about one week ; there was no
male person left about the premises excepting Buel and myself; Richards' son
Richard was at West Winfield; I remember Miss Jones coming there that
forenoon; I remember Mrs. Hannah Jones, Mrs. Richards and Catharine M.
Richards, and Myron A. Buel and myself were at the dinner table that day,
the 25th of June; Maggie was at school; at the dinner table Mrs. Richards
asked me to hitch up the horse to the buggy; she did not say for what pur-
pose, nor where she was going; she said hitch up the Fan mare, the one they

9
call Fanny, a black mare; she said that in the presence of Buel and the rest:
after dinner Buel and myself went to the basement barn across the road, and
Buel helped me harness the horse, and then he took the other horse to the
pasture, while I hitched this one up to the buggy; I thºn drove her up to the
jouse and tied her to the hitching post; Buel went east from the house to take
the horse to the pasture; the pasture was about 40 rods east of the house on
the south side of the road; after hitching the horse and buggy I went down
to the hop house and got two hoes, and went over to the hº yard; that must
have been about half after 1 o'clock; I got to the hop yard before Buel about
ten minutes; Buel came from the direction of the house; we both cºmmºnged
hoeing the hops; Buel left the hop yard about three o'clock; I don't know
exactly the time—I had no timepiece with me; he said he was going to change
his boots; that his rubber boots were getting too warm for him, and he guessed
he would have to go and change them; he then had rubber boots; he had
been in the habit of wearing leather boots most of the time; he had worn the
rubber boots only that day that I recollect of: we had been fixing fence in the
forenoon, southwest from the house, over near a piece of woods below the
southwest corner of the meadow ; after Buelleft the hop yard, and before he
returned, John L. Davis came there; he resides at Plainfield Center, and is a
farmer; I am not positive whether he made an errand or not: I don't remem-
ber now ; he remained there from five to ten minutes; he came from the
northwest, and went away in a southeasterly direction toward the house; I
saw him over to the potato lot with John Pugh before he came to the hop
yard; the potato lot is in a northwest direction from the hop yard on John C.
Griffith's farm; I did not see him again that day before evening; Buel re-
turned about twenty to twenty-five minutes after Davis left; he came from
the south; Richards' house was southeast from where we were at work; he
was within three or four rods of me before I saw him. between the two hop
rows we were hoeing on ; he had his hoe in his hand; when he left the yard
he left his hoe within three hills of the end of the two rows he was hoeing
when he left; to the best of my judgment, Buel was gone from the hop yard
from three-quarters of an hour to an hour ; my attention has been called to
this map once; the hop yard referred to is the one indicated on this map:
when he left the hop yard I was near the north corner, hoeing north; the
rows run about north and south; when he returned I was about two-
thirds of the way across the yard ; the potato field where Mr. Pugh
was is indicated upon the map : there was conversation between us
when he returned ; I asked him, “Where had he been gone so long '" He
said he had been down to the meadow driving the horse out of the
meadow, or turning the horse out of the meadow ; he designated the place
where the horse got into the meadow from the pasture; I knew there was
places where the horses had got out of the pasture into the meadow before
that; there was several places on the south side of the meadow; there was
a place near the southwest corner; he also said he saw one of the calves out
doors when he came along; I asked him if he put him in; he said no :
I told him he ought to, it might run around and hurtitself; he said he guessed
not, it was laying down when he saw it; I asked him if he saw John L. Da-
vis, he said yes, he saw him over by the barn; I asked him if he wanted any-
thing, he said yes, he wanted to borrow the horse-shoe, nothing further that
I recollect of: he went to work and nothing else occurred that I can think of
until we heard the horm blow for supper; after the horn blew we went over
toward the house; as we got over in the orchard towards the buildings I dis-
covered the bull out doors behind the cheese house in the meadow, in a part
of the orchard, two rods ahead of me, I said, Hallo, the bull is out doors,
Myron, aint he? I don't remember that he said anything; I told him we had
better put him in the barn; he was nearest the bull at that time; I think
within about four rods of him ; I told him to go ahead and I would drive him
along, so I stepped out of the path and walked over where the bull was and
drove him along right down between the cheese house and hog pen, and Buel
went ahead and guarded him into the barn; the barn door was open when I
-
10
got within sight of it; I don't know whether Buel opened it or not; I could
not see the door until I passed down between the cheese house and hog pen,
I drove the bull right into the barn and followed him, and as I stepped into
the doorway I saw Catharine M. Richards laying as I supposed dead by the
stanchion; when the bull turned to the door Buel was about three feet below
the door; I went in first; the bull went right past the body and passed up on
the other side some four or five feet beyond the body and then turned around
and walked out doors again, out by the same door he went in: the body lay
opposite the fourth stanchion from the door; the bull occupied that stanchion;
he was fastened with ordinary slides at the top of the stanchion; he was not
fastened with a rope; there was three calves tied to the first three stanchions
with ropes; the last time I was in that day before going to the hop field was
after dinner when I fed the bull; it was before I harnessed the horse for Mrs.
Richards; I fed him when he was in the stanchion there in the usual manner
and the calves were tied in the first three stanchions from the door; there was
three slide doors or windows to that stable; they were all open at noon at
the time I fed the bull; when I found the dead body of Catharine two of
them were closed and one was open; the middle one was not closed; there
was a manure pile in front of that one; it filled up about half the door; these
slides were not on hinges but slid back and forth; when closed they closed
the whole opening; when I found the body it lay, the feet north and the
head south, the head lying right up to the stanchion; the feet lay about where
the hind feet of the bull would come when standing there; the calf that was
tied to the first stanchion from the east door was removed and tied to the
stanchion where the bull was tied; the calf stood right near the head of the
dead body; the position of the body is indicated correctly on the map; the
three windows are indicated correctly on the map; the calf stood on the east
side of the body; I discovered a scratch on the calf's ear; it was similar to
the scratch of a finger or thumb nail; it was about one-fourth of an inch
long as near as I can guess; Buel came right in after I told him that Cath-
arine or the girl was dead; the first thing I said after I saw the girl was, O
Myron, what has happened here?—the girl is dead surely; and then he said
O my stars! O my stars!; he was then out doors but so he could lookin;
after I made that remark he said, O my stars! O my stars!; then he walked
up behind me and both of us walked towards the body; the body lay par-
tially on the left side; the head lay partially to the left side and the body
about square on its back, I think; the head inclining a little to the left ; the
limbs and clothes perfectly straight; the arms lay right along side of her on
the floor; I didn't notice the position of the hands; I noticed there was
manure on her shoes; all over the shoes; I didn't notice whether there was
any on the hands or not; I discovered a wound on her right cheek; it run
toward the angle of her eye; (witness indicated on the cheek near nose ;)
I don't think it extended back on the side of the head toward the ear: 1
did’t notice that; there was blood right around on the inside of the wound;
I discovered no blood anywhere else on her face; there was a bruise on the
side of her head or temple separate from the one below the eye; I don't
recollect which side it was ; it was a kind of a round mark; I did not dis-
cover that the skin was broken; it was a kind of bluish color; her mouth
was partially open; there was white froth on her lips; my recollection is that
the eyes were closed; the face was of a bluish color all over; after I discov-
ered the body I think it was three or four minutes before either of us went
to the house to give the alarm ; Buel then went: Hannah Jones, Myron A.
Buel and Maggie Richards came to the barn; Maggie asked how Catharine
got killed; either she or Hannah Jones asked how Catharine got killed; Buel
said he thought it must have been the bull; Buel spoke about going to Win-
field after Owen Richards; I told him we had better carry the girl in because
she lay in rather bad shape; she was then carried in by Buel and I; Buel
took hold of her around her shoulders and I around her legs and feet; we lay
the body on a bench in the woodshed; Buel put his right arm under her
shoulders and I took hold around her legs and feet; Miss Jones went to John
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11
C. Griffith's; I went to the pasture to get the horse for Buel to go to West
Winfield with, and Buel stayed there with Maggie Richards; it must have
been about half-past five when Buel went to Winfield; I remained there the
balance of the day and evening; it was about six o'clock when Mrs. Richards
got home; Mrs. John C. Griffiths, Mrs. Morris Williams came there after the
body was found; I think it must have been about eight o'clock when the
physicians came there; while we were hitching up the horse I asked Buel
what he supposed killed the girl; he said he supposed it must have been the
bull; there was a conversation when we were hitching up about a calf being
out doors; I said to Buel I thought you said there was a calf out of doors,
and he said it might have been the bull; I said I should think you could tell
the difference between a calf and a bull; he said it was laying down when
he saw it; I think he said he saw Jonn L. Davis down near the barn when he
was coming back to the hop yard; he said he saw him in the orchard; did
not describe any certain place; don't recollect his saying anything about
being near the straw stack; the next day Buel and I had a talk about the calf
being hitched to the wrong stanchion; previous to the death of Catharine, I
had a conversation with Buel in reference to the girl; it was a week previous
to her death; he said she would make a pretty good go; we were then near
the woods fixing the fence; I also had a conversation with him one night in
bed; it was on the 21st of June; he asked me why I didn't feel of Catharine
while I was down in the basement barn feeding the calves; he said, you
didn't, did you?; said he, it would have been the best chance you will
eyer get, the folks all being absent—all but her mother ; I told
him no, I didn't ; that is all I recollect I said; he said he was over-
head in the basement barn watching us; I had been in the basement barn feed-
ing the calves several times; he told me Saturday night, the 22d, the way his
cousin used to get some out of the girls; he said there was some girls from
fourteen to fifteen didn't know any better than to do it; he said the way his
cousin used to get some out of the girls was to take a strap and buckle it
around their necks and then draw it up so tight they couldn't scream and then
go for them; he asked what I thought about it; I told him I would be afraid
of choking them to death; he said, O, no, not draw it too tight; Buel and I
had a conversation next morning while going after the cows; he asked me
how long did I suppose it was before he returned to the hop yard after John
L. Davis had been there with me; I told him I didn't now; he said he didn't
think it was over five minutes, because he said he saw John L. Davis near the
barn when he returned; he told me to make the time as short as I could, and
not put it over five minutes; don't recollect what I did say to that: he said he
thought it would go pretty hard with him because he had been away from the
hop yard, but he said he could prove pretty near where he had been all the
while; on the day after her death I asked him how he supposed that calf
came to be tied to a different stanchion from what it was at noon; he said if
there would any one ask me any thing about it to tell them we were in the
habit of tying it there; I told him no, I never saw it tied there; that is all
the conversation I recollect about that; I think on the 26th he spoke to me
about Catharine's getting mad at him ; he said he used to feel of Catharine a
year ago last summer and she used to get mad; and he said he felt of her
once last spring and she got mad; we used stools in the barn for milking pur-
poses; there was three stools in the box on the girt a little west of where the
body was found; they were about four by six inches in size and two inches
thick, with three legs; at this time there was a piece of loose rope in the
barn; it was about a yard long; it was three-quarter inch rope; I noticed it
there the morning of the 25th of June; don't recollect seeing it there next
day; have not seen it since; the calves were tied with three-eight inch rope,
about seven feet long; they were all tied with the same kind of rope; my at-
tention was called to the appearance of blood upon a piece of board nailed to
one of these planks in the floor; it was about the fourth or fifth stanchion
frºm the west door; I saw it the next day about ten o'clock; don't recollect
who was with me at the time; I saw Francis Smith there that afternoon;
12
don't recollect Buel and I cleaning out the cow stable next morning after the
girl's death; the west door of the stable opened into a kind of cow yard; the
door was fastened with a hook on the inside; there was a hole through the
door through which a person could hook or unhook the door; I saw blood–
stains on the post and door; think it was the next week after the murder; I
have observed apparent whittling on a portion of the post; don't know how
much it was: there was some whittled off the door and some off the post;
the coroner's jury convened on the 26th, on Wednesday evening : Buel told
me on Thursday that he was going to hire a lawyer; he said they were all
Welsh around there and they wouldn't give us no fair show ; I told him I
wouldn't hire no lawyer; don't recollect his saying anything to me about
watching and hearing what was said about it; I recollect a maple post over-
head in the cow barn on the north side; I remember its falling down.
DR. JAMEs M. Rose was also called as a witness on the part of the People
and testified as follows: -
Evening of the 25th : We went to view the body from the kitchen into
that room, and the first impression that struck me as unnatural was the dark
livid appearance of the face and head; she was lying on her back with her
face turned to the right, and on looking a little closely we saw the wound on
the face or cheek and an abrasion on the temple; and we exposed the neck
and saw the mark on it; the wound on the side of the head was on the right
side, extending from the outer angle of the eye to the ear; and the ear also
was considerably bruised or contused; very much contused and very dark;
and the blood was discharging from the right nostril; and the ear was full of
blood, and blood discharged from the rim of the ear ; I can't say whether
from the external orifice; the external portion of the eye was congested,
ecchymosised, and an effusion of blood under the conjunctiva, so it produced
a fullness; the conjunctiva is the membrane which covers the forepart of the
globe of the eye, and lines the lid of the eye; the wound on the cheek was
an open wound; it commenced about an inch below the external angle of the
eye, and run back horizontally to the ear, or traversely to the ear, very nearly
an inch long; it measured an inch the second day afterwards; it then seemed
to be a little longer than it did the first evening; it measured a good inch :
it didn't look to me to have been cut by a sharp instrument; the wound on
the side of the head, I think, was made with a blunt instrument; I don't
think there was any sharp instrument about it; and the cut on the cheek might
have been done with a blunt instrument; there was some blood discharging
from the wound, but none collected in the wound at all; I could pass a probe
from the injury on the cheek up to the corner of the eye and out and pass it
up back towards the temple considerably; but the skin, the part for a half
inch above this cut, was not mangled and was not contused; the face was
livid and some little congestion, and there was some blood in the hair and the
hair matted, and blood running back from the wound and from the hair, and
the corner of the eye and on the side of the face; she had lain on her back:
and the right eye was considerably congested, and the left eye not so much,
but both prominent; the right eye was considerably congested, and the ves-
sels were full and the eye prominent, more than the left; the left eye was
more full than natural; my impression is the eyes were not closed; the eyes
looked very bright, indeed, remarkably bright, the black portion of the eye,
the cornea: I know we remarked how very clear that looked, it had a sort of
glaring appearance; the pupil was dilated; the lips were apart and very
livid, and a froth, mucus tinged with blood, between them, and the teeth
seemed to be closed, and some blood discharged from the right nostril and
some froth showed in the left nostril; there was a little roughness on the cheek
bone, and on the lower side of the wound the flesh adhered to the bone; it
was firm and not separated, and above the wound I could introduce my finger
half or three-quarters of an inch, but could not get it to the corner of the
eye; but the probe went up easily; it indicated that a blow had in some way
pushed the flesh from the bone above, so it was separated above the wound,

13
but not below; there was a mark around the neck from three-quarters to an
inch wide, which was of deeper color than the face, and some little abrasion
on the fore part of the neck and in an ecchymosised state; that went around
the neck until within about, or nearly about, three inches of the back part
of the neck; that was not marked; the mark was very plain on the edges,
and between the two edges the mark seemed to be striated or striped, but ir-
regularly striped; some places deeper blood marks and deeper colored than
at others, and those striated marks seem to run lengthwise with the outside
mark. -
We then removed the clothing from the chest and arms; there was a lit-
tle cresent shaped mark on the left shoulder, on the anterior portion of the
shoulder, about two inches in from the angle of the shoulder, towards the
body; I applied thumb nail and believe Dr. Huntly did : it seemed to fit 5 on
the left breast about two and one-half or three inches below, and a little back
of the nipple was a small abrasion about half inch one way and three-eighth
the other ; and in the groin on the same side was an abrasion about two in-
ches forward of this prominent bone, (indicating hip) about five inches from
the pubis, seven-eighths by inch; the skin was scraped off so it was plain to
be seen, not enough so it would bleed; and on the right elbow was an abraison
running up on the ulna side ; the scarf skin was scraped off. There was
slight abraison on skin of left leg.
We placed the body on a table and commenced examination at the head.
Divided the scalp from ear to ear, and turned the scalp back and forward
so it left the skull exposed clear around ; we removed the skull cap
and exposed the brain ; the brain substance was not very much changed
from natural, perhaps a trifle congested ; the veins of the brain and dura-
mater were very well filled with dark blood, and in removing the skull cap
there was some blood found on the right side; in sawing off the skull there
was some blood come into the saw cut; afterwards there seemed to be more;
some of it came from these muscles that were bruised and contused ; the -
temple muscles would not be turned back and the upper part of that muscle
was cut through we divided the muscle and skin through the original
wound to examine the skull to see if there was any fracture, and didn't find
any injuries to the skull at all; but the soft parts were contused clear to the
bone, and very much contused, separated and loosened ; we examined and
cut into the substance of the brain and opened the different cavities and
didn't find anything unnatural about it particularly; we thought it was a very
healthy brain excepting the little congestion of blood vessels. We found no
internal evidences of disease. We then removed the sternum so we could
get into the chest and examine the lungs and heart, and we found the lungs
slightly congested, especially the part which lay down in the lower part of the
chest was congested more than the upper part; the lower part of the lungs
in the lower part of the chest; and the heart seemed to be all sound so far
as any organic trouble or disease was concerned : the right heart was full of
blood and the veins were full of blood, and in removing the heart there was
quite a quantity of blood discharged into the chest : the heart was apparently
in a healthy state; the lungs were not much congested, but some congested,
and the vessels were a little more colored than natural, and the lungs were a
little more colored and full; we removed the lungs and put them in water
and they floated in water; they were not congested enough but what they
were all right in that respect: they were not very much congested anyway,
except the lower part which lay deep in the chestwhere the blood would nat-
urally settle in them from gravitation; there was no adhesion of the lungs to
the side of the chest, showing there had been no disease there before, and no
disease anywhere in the chest that we could find. -
MAGGIE RICHARDs, also called by the People, testified as follows:
Catharine and Richard and myself went down to the basement barn to
feed the calves; Buel was standing by the side of the stall crying; he didn't
say anything just then; after we got through feeding the calves, he came up



14
to us and said we acted as though we was mad at him ; I said I wasn't mad at
him ; Catharine didn't say anything; he wanted us to kneel down and pray,
and forgive him; I said I wasn't mad at him; I didn't have anything to for-
give him for ; neither of us three knelt down; he said he was mad at Cath-
arine, but he wasn't mad at Richard nor I; when he asked us to kneel down
and pray, we didn't say anything; we kind of laughed at him.
I recollect the day, soon after that, when our people, except Buel, Cath-
arine and myself, were gone away to look for a horse that had strayed.
Mother went to Richfield Springs; I went down to Mrs. John C. Griffith's
that forenoon, about half-past eight; as I went down I saw Buel standing in
the basement door of the barn; he asked me where I was going; I didn't
look at him; went right along; made no answer; I was gone from the house,
I guess, about three-quarters of an hour; when I got back I found Catharine
standing by the kitchen window, crying; had conversation with her there;
after that I went to the cow barn, where Buel was unloading a load of manure;
I told him it was about time for him to be ashamed of himself; he did not say
anything; I had no further conversation with him. After going back to the
house Buel came to the house; I was in the pantry, and Catharine was in the
shed washing the cans; I heard them talking and went into the shed; he
wanted us not to tell father and mother that he had been insulting her; we
said we would tell them; he kept asking us not to tell all the time, and we
said we would; when we said we would tell them, he said he didn't care; he
went and got his clothes and boots, and packed his clothes in his trunk, and
said he would go away; we said we didn't care; he didn't bring his trunk
down stairs; he went down as far as the gate and turned around and came
back, and came where we were; he wanted us not to tell father and mother,
and we said we would; and he started and went back again; he said he was
going home, anyway, then : he went as far as the hophouse and turned back
again; while he was gone, Catharine said, “see all the cows we have got to
milk to-night, all alone; we had better not have him go.” He came back; he
asked if I would tell; I said I wouldn't if Catharine wouldn't : she said she
wouldn't tell if he wouldn't insult her again, and if he would she would tell
father and mother. Then he went at his work again.
-
The Court then charged the jury as follows:
Gentlemen of the Jury:-On the 25th day of June, 1878, William C. Rich-
ards resided in the town of Plainfield. He was a farmer and had a family
consisting of one son and two daughters. On the afternoon of that day the
oldest of the daughters was found dead in a stable on his farm, under circum-
stances indicating that she had come to her death by violence.
A complaint was duly made charging that she had been murdered, and
also charging the defendant with being guilty of that murder. That com-
plaint was duly presented to the Grand Jury at a former term of this Court
in this County, and the Grand Jury in the performance of its duty found a
bill against the defendant, charging him with being guilty of murder in the
first degree, in causing the death of Catharine Mary Richards, the daughter
of William C. Richards.
Upon that indictment you are called to pass.
He puts in a plea of not guilty and puts that question at issue, and you
are called upon to say whether he is or is not guilty of the offence with
which he is charged. You are selected because you are fair-minded men, be:
cause you are deemed to be impartial and unbiased as between the people and
the prisoner, and because it is believed that you will render a verdict according
to the evidence given in the case. You have taken a solemn oath so to do,
and it is your duty to endeavor so to do. You are called upon to perform an
important duty. The fact that a human life has been taken always renders a
case important under any circumstances. But when there is another life on
trial, when it is to be determined whether another life may not, according to
the laws of the State of New York, be compelled to be taken, it becomes
doubly important. -
You are to be the arbiters; you are to say from this evidence whether
you are satisfied that this man is guilty of this offense or not. That is your
duty and you are responsible only to your consciences and to your God.
You are not to be governed by sympathy towards any of these parties.
You are to listen to no appeals to your sympathies or prejudices. This girl
is dead; her family is made desolate; her parents are mourning; but that is
a matter with which you have nothing to do; nothing which we can do here
can ºver restore that girl to her family again. She is gone; she is lost to that
family, however dear she may have been. Consequently you should not
counsel your sympathies in determining this case. You are simply to say
upon your consciences and upon your oaths, is this defendant guilty of that
offense, or is he not.
You have nothing to do with the feelings of the defendant's relatives.
You are to listen to no appeals on their account. However painful it may be
to them, or however painful it may be to you, you cannot look to their inter-
ests; you cannot counsel their welfare; you are simply to say upon your
oaths is this man guilty. If he is guilty you are fearlessly so to declare.
You have nothing to do with the consequences of your verdict; you stand
between the criminal and the people.
The people on the one side are prosecuting, not with a view to avenge
the death of this girl; that is not the object of the prosecution; vengeance
does not belong to us; it belongs to Another. But we are to prosecute and
enforce the laws, so that the public may be protected against such crimes
hereafter. We are not looking at the dead girl who lies in her grave, but to























16
the protection of the living ; for the protection of living daughters, sisters
and wives. It is for their protection that we are called upon to enforce the
laws and to punish crime, so that it may be a warning to all others, that the
crime will be punished, and be a warning to them not to commit such acts.
You are to consider your position, act independent and above-board,
simply say whether he is guilty or not ; close your eyes and steel yourselves
against every consideration save simply the guilt or innocence of the defend-
ant. That is the only question for you to determine.
In a trial of this kind, as in every criminal trial, the law presumes the
defendant to be innocent. The indictment does not raise a presumption against
him. He is presumed to be innocent, and the prosecution is required to prove
every fact necessary to constitute the offense, beyond a reasonable doubt. They
must fully convince your minds that the defendant is guilty. It must not be a
speculative doubt, or a mere possibility, but if it is a reasonable and rational
doubt which you have in your minds, the defendant is entitled to the benefit
of that doubt, and unless you are fully satisfied in your minds from the ev-
idence given in the case that the defendant is guilty, then you are required to
acquit. But if you are fully satisfied, if your judgments and consciences say
to you that he is guilty, then you are fearlessly to pronounce that as your
verdict.
- sº sº. -k º: -k * -: º: º
Then you will consider the fact that she was found there, lying upon the
bed of the bull’s stall, where he had stood immediately prior to that time.
The evidence is that the stanchions of the stall were closed and the bull was
out, although he had been in a short time previous. Are there indications of
any kind that the bull caused her death?
Then you have the evidence in regard to the marks upon her person.
The mark upon her shoulder indicating that a thumb nail, or a thumb had
pressed her shoulder.
Then you have the mark upon her groin, and the evidence of what the
doctors have testified they found upon her naked person after her clothing
was removed. And then you are to find from the evidence given by these
doctors who examined the person of this deceased girl and say whether her
person had been violated or not. They testify to the condition of the private
parts of this girl, and they give their opinion that her person had been vio-
lated. They describe the marks that indicate such violation. You are to con-
sider all of the facts and all of these circumstances. The youthful character
of this girl, the evidence being that previous to this time she had been en-
gaged in playing with some kittens which she had carried into the house and
which she afterwards carried out of the house.
Is there anything in this testimony indicating that she committed suicide,
or is there any evidence indicating that she fell from the scaffold or anything
indicating that she was gored by the bull? Or does it indicate that she was
killed by violence, and that that violence was committed by some human
hand, and that that hand was the hand of a male person?
If you find that she came to her death by the hand of some person, then
the next question is, who did it? Who was the person who committed the
act which caused her death?
These doctors all testify that she died from strangulation. They say that
the blows upon her head, of themselves, would not have been sufficient to pro-
duce death, and that they are of opinion that she died from strangulation
which was caused by some ligature being placed about her neck. They testify
that that was indicated by the marks upon her neck, and it is for you to say
whether that ligature was a rope or something else.
The question is, did the defendant do the deed. That is the great and im-
portant question in this case; the one to which you must seriously direct your
attention, weigh carefully every circumstance and every particle of evidence
that has been given in the case, and say whether you are fully convinced that
he did do this deed. No human eye saw this crime committed upon the

17
person of this girl; consequently no person can come here and testify to the
commission of the crime.
Then you have also the evidence of Mr. Burgess, who was passing along
there about that time. He testifies that he saw this mare and colt down near
this elm tree, some distance from the meadow.
Then you have also the evidence of Mr. Jones, who is a farmer living on
a farm adjoining Mr. Richards' on the south. He testifies that he was so
situated that he could see this pasture, and also testifies that the mare and
colt was in his pasture during that afternoon, and that he went and turned
them out, and that they were not in the meadow of Mr. Richards, to his
knowledge. -
- And you will remember the evidence of the boy who was drawing stone
with Mr. Jones. He says that Mr. Jones went away for the purpose of turning
the mare and colt out of his pasture.
It is claimed from this evidence, therefore, that the mare and colt was not
in the meadow.
But the great and important question is, Did he do the deed? Was he
the man who did it? The defendant says that he did not. That is his defense.
That is what he relies upon, his denial that he did the act at all, or had any
knowledge of it or concern with it. If that is true, he is entitled to a verdict
of acquittal.
But if, on the other hand, you shall believe that he did the act and placed
the rope around her neck for the purpose of having illicit intercourse with her
and to overcome her resistance by that means; if that was his purpose, then
he is guilty of murder in the first degree. -
Gentlemen, as I have before said, this is a solemn and important case.
If the defendant is innocent, he is entitled to your protection fearlessly and
above-board. You are to be like a rock against which the waves of excitement
and passion have no influence. No matter what public sentiment may be.
No matter how much excitement may arise in regard to this horrid affair.
If you believe that this defendant is innocent, or that the prosecution have
failed to prove him guilty beyond a reasonable doubt, you are to fearlessly
say, Wot guilty.
But if, on the other hand, you believe that this man did the deed, and
that he did it for that purpose, then you are to close your eyes to every con-
sideration and declare him guilty.
Under these instructions you will take this case and render such a verdict
as you believe the evidence warrants.
Defendant’s counsel excepted to that part of the charge in which the
Court charged that if death was caused by the commission of this offense, it
would be murder in the first degree.
GUILTY. I
The jury then retired in charge of a constable who was duly sworn to
attend them, and afterwards returned into court, and brought in a general
verdict of guilty against the defendant.
DEFENDANT's Counsel, : We move for a new trial upon the minutes of the
Court, upon two grounds: The first being the exception we took to Your
Honor's charge. And the other upon the ground that the law requires that
the Court should have read to the jury, in their charge, all of the law in regard
to murder and manslaughter. The Court called attention to what constituted
murder in the first degree, under the first and third subdivisions only, and did
not refer to the subdivisions in regard to murder in the second degree, or
manslaughter in its various degrees.
Which motion was denied, and the defendant's counsel duly excepted.
The District Attorney then moved for judgment, and the Court senter-ced
the prisoner to be hung on the 18th day of April, 1879.


After the Verdict and Senience.
The sentence was pronounced. Through all the Court room not a sound
was heard. For a moment the prisoner wavored, but was soon again himself.
During his difficult and severe cross-examination he had never once flinched or
lost self control. At this trying moment he preserved the same stoical indiffer-
ence he had so well feigned upon the trial. With a firm step he walked from
the Court House, and again to the prison cell where he was to await the
expiation of his crime. - -
A writ of error and stay of proceedings was granted by Hon. William
Murray, Justice of the Supreme Court, the 7th of March, 1879, and another
writ of error allowed by Hon. C. E. Martin, Justice of the Supreme Court,
Sept. 15, 1879. The appeal was brought at General Term of the Supreme
Court held at Saratoga Springs, on the 5th day of September, 1879, Hon.
William I. Learned, Presiding Justice, and Hon. Douglas Boardman and
Hon. David L. Follett, Associate Justices. After a lengthy consideration, it -
was ordered that the conviction of Buel be affirmed. The record of the judg-
ment and other proceedings were remitted to the Court of Oyer and Terminer
of Otsego County, to proceed thereon according to law and fix the day for the
execution. Buel was then re-sentenced to be hung Friday, Nov. 14th, 1879.
MOTION FOR A NEW TRIAL.
A motion for a new trial was argued in the Court of Appeals during the
month of October. That Court refused to grant a new trial, and affirmed the
judgmont of the lower courts. Governor Robinson was then besought to
reprieve the prisoner, but refused. This was the severing of the last strand
of the rope of hope. All that lay in the power of the prisoner's able counsel,
James A. Lynes, had been done. This intelligence was conveyed to the
doomed man, and under it he for the first time entirely broke down.
-------
THE GIB BET.
Sheriff Clark had been making preparations for the execution of the
prisoner, and at the announcement of the final decision of the Governor,
pushed them to rapid completion. The gallows used by Sheriff Hill, of Nor-
wich, at the execution of Felix McCann, were procured. The scaffold arrived
Wednesday night and was erected on Thursday, on the east side of the jail,
within a high-boarded enclosure, forty-seven by twenty-seven feet. The same
weight was used which with the old scaffold was used in the hanging of
Eacket, the St. Johnsville murderer; Frederick, at Syracuse; Hiram Smith,
at Watertown; Lindsley, at Syracuse; Thorpe, at Auburn; Van Dyke, at


19 -
-
Canton; Woods, (a tramp) at Malone; Bresnahan, at Canton; the negro
Steenburgh, at Fonda. Then the new scaffold was made, which, with the
same weight, has hung McCann and Buel. When in position the gallows were
tested by “hanging” a bag of sand, weighing one hundred and fifty-five
pounds, and everything was pronounced complete. -
The gallows were built after a plan by Sheriff Hill, of Chenango County,
and consisted of two bottom or bed-pieces, each nine feet long. Framed into
these were sleepers upon which was laid a flooring for the condemned man to
stand upon. Rising from the center of each bed-piece was an upright post
eleven feet and three inches high, strengthened on either side by braces framed
into the bed pieces. Across, from post to post, stretched the cap-piece, meas-
uring eight feet and three inches between the posts, and also strengthened by
braces let into the upright posts. One end of the cap-piece extended over the
upright twenty-two inches. In the center of the cap-piece was a pully-wheel,
and in the extended end just mentioned was another pully-wheel. The rope
passed up over the center pully, then ran along the upper side of the cap-
piece to the second pully, then extended down and was attached to the weight.
The trap that held the weight consisted of a brace of iron, in the end of
the horizontal arm of which was fastened another arm by means of a pivot.
This second arm lay upon the first arm and extended about an inch beyond it
in the shape of a half hook. Upon this hook was hung the weight by a staple.
The second arm thus became a lever—the long arm of the lever lying along
the horizontal arm of the brace, and the short arm extending beyond the
brace and holding up the weight. About three inches from the upright post
was a small arm rising perpendicularly, about four inches long. This was
fastened to the brace by a pivot, and had a notch in it which slipped over the
long arm of the lever. A small rope was hitched to the upper end of this
perpendicular arm, then passed over a pully and through the upright post,
and when pulled by the rope would bring the perpendicular arm of the small
lever over towards the upright post, and released the long arm of the hori-
zontal lever, which flying up allowed the weight to drop off. There was to
the rope about three feet slack, so that the weight would fall three feet before
the rope became taut. The weight was a block of iron about one foot square
and fifteen inches high, and weighed three hundred and ten pounds.
The rope was about thirty-three feet in length, and three-eighths of an
inch in thickness, and was made for the execution of McCann, and consisted
of four hundred and fourteen strands of shoe thread twisted together. Two
of these strands, on a test trial, sustained a weight of twenty-two pounds,
The knot was the usual hangman's knot. The whole apparatus of death was
painted black.
Sheriff Clark appointed the twelve witnesses as follows: Dr. E. D.
Hills, of Burlington; Lewis Spencer, Edmeston; William C. Richards,
Plainfield, (the father of the murdered girl); J. R. Brewer, Butternuts;
Chas. Goodell, Decatur; J. J. Rider, Exeter: C. M. Bates, Cherry Valley;
H. H. Smith, Worcester; J. F. Mather, New Lisbon: Geo. Luther, Milford;
E. Tillapaugh, Roseboom ; and Levi P. McFarland, Plainfield. The details
were J. L. Converse, Under Sheriff; John Kelly, Chas. N. Merrills, Zadock

20
Main, J. M. Denton, Ezra Carey, Harrison Van Horne, Almon Brown, D. W.
Shelland, Charles White, Milan Seeley, Isaac Becker, Ira Stevens, Damon
Mead, Theo. W. Snyder, Chas. Van Deusen, Geo. Heath, Geo. Gorham, Jr.
In addition, the 3d Separate Company, of Oneonta, Captain Wood com-
manding, with seventy-two men and drum corps, were ordered to form a
guard around the jail enclosure, and under no condition whatever to allow any
one to pass unless showing a printed pass signed by the Sheriff. Their orders
were carried out to the letter, and formed a part of an exºcution unsurpassed
for its excellent arrangements and management. -
The medical gentlemen present were Drs. Bassett, Hills, Lathrop and
Westlake.
The Days before the Execution.
---
On Wednesday by an earnest request on the part of his counsel, Buel
consented to having his photograph taken, and W. G. Smith, of Cooperstown,
took him in several positions, but in doing so was at times extremely puzzled
by the manner and movements of the prisoner, and it was with difficulty that
he finally arranged him in the proper position and received an accurate like-
ness of his features. At no time during his confinement had Buel seemed so
utterly broken down as on Wednesday evening, and the plain white handker-
chief always within his reach was frequently used as he pondered over the
many passages of Scripture. His mother had been in to see him and during
their conversation he said to her, “I am guilty of the crime, mother, and
my sentence is just.” The words came from his mother's lips—“I never be-
lieved you guilty of it; I can't see what made you do it.” Their parting was
only with a shake of the hand and the mother left her son to struggle through
another long night only to awake with a haggard face, giving him almost the
wild stare of the maniac. During the day on Thursday he was visited by
his sister, Mrs. Mansfield Winnie, and husband. He was also visited by the
- following newspaper representatives: Mr. Whittlesey, of the Associated
Press; Col. J. J. Flanagan, of the Utica Herald, DeWitt Ray, of the Utica
Observer; F. M. Harrington, of the Albany Argus, Andrew Davidson of the
Otsego Republican, C. W. Champlin, Albany Press, Gordon Treadwell, Bºng-
hamton Republican.

















-
The Last Wight on Earth.
Already the shades of night began to hover about the distant hills. Buel's
last night on earth had come. Too well the condemned man knew this. He
lacked nothing of consciousness; but the terrible strain upon the nervous
system he had undergone, an exhaustion demanding sleep—and not even the
terrors of the gibbet already erected without his cell, could keep the weary
mind and soul and body from sleep. Neither did he awake, though his
counsel and spiritual advisers had entered the cell, and were conversing by his
bedside. But even in his sleep he seemed to live over the terrors of the hour.
Rolling and tossing, with stifled groans, he lay. As night fell dark and dismal
he awoke and engaged in conversation with those around him. The following
hours until midnight were spent in prayer and religious converse. In speaking
of the trial, Buel said that some witnesses who swore against him testified
falsely. But he added that he cherished no ill-will to any, for the Bible he
had been reading taught him it was in forgiveness that salvation for sinners
lay. He had marked many passages in the Sacred Book for his mother to read.
To these he turned, and declared his belief that the mercy of the Divine Power
could be extended to even such as he.
After his friends had left him, Buel kneeled down and engaged in silent
prayer. This seemed to strengthen him, and he again paced the narrow cell,
deep in meditation.
The keeper asked him if he did not dread being hung. Buel replied,
“Yes, of course, I do dread it, but I am
PREPAIRED TO DIE.”
He then commenced to dress for the coming execution. The every-day gar-
ments he had worn through all his weary imprisonment were taken off and
hung in the accustomed place. He gave them a parting look. It was the last
time he would ever wear them. Numbed and overwhelmed with a hopeless
fear, his trembling hands almost gave the well-worn clothes a parting caress, as
he hung them away. And what a nightit was Between waking and sleeping
the weary hours were passed. In consciousness or unconsciousness the fixed
look of despair and dread did not desert the prisoner's face. No sound came
to break the long silence of the tedious hours, except the distant crow of a
chanticleer or the falling footstep of a straggling passer-by, the echo of which
on the hard stone walk without seemed to send a mournful reminder on the
stillness of the night air, that the last minutes were passing away.
He awoke at half-past four, and opening his eyes gave a vacant stare
around the room, at times, to pass away the wearisome minutes, noting the


22
length of grains in the wood, or counting the number of square holes in his
cell door. Failing to fall asleep again, after a trial of over an hour, he arose
at precisely six o'clock, bathed thoroughly, made up his bed with great care,
and took down from the nail for the last time his best clothes, which consisted
of a plain black checkered pair of pantaloons, a black broadcloth coat and
vest. The coat he laid one side, and taking his accustomed seat by the table,
in his shirt sleeves, commenced reading his Bible, turning to his favorite pas-
sages, dwelling for some time on each passage, apparently completely
absorbed. -
The breakfast sent to him was thankfully received, but he left it almost un-
tasted. For one hour and over, he continuously read the Bible and engaged
in silent prayer. On rising, a contented look had chased away some of the
shadows which had before clouded his face. No doubt the final message the
keeper was soon to deliver to him was then passing through his mind, for he
well knew the prison system was like clock-work, and that the heavy bar that
held the massive iron door would soon be lifted and put back in its place for
the last time in presence of himself and that officer. He bade his keeper
good-by with tears in his eyes, giving him a small slip of paper on which he
had printed—“Jesus ‘dide’ for me.”
Only a few minutes had elapsed after the day watch had taken charge when
a quiet knock was heard on the prison door. It was opened and Buel's father,
mother, two sisters and younger brother, entered the cell, and walking slowly
to the end of it where he was seated, bade Myron good morning. They took
seats about him and commenced to wipe their red and weeping eyes. They
themselves had passed a sleepless might. The group was soon joined by Rev.
William M. Hiller and Rev. N. W. Wells, and as usual the face of Myron
assumed a pleased look and he gave them seats by his side. Rev. Mr. Hiller im-
mediately engaged in devotional exercises, reading the Psalms, beginning with
“The Lord is my Shepherd,” etc. When he read the passage, “Though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil,” etc., he
asked Buel if he could truthfully say this. He replied “Yes.” Prayer fol-
lowed, in which the prisoner joined. During the prayer the married sister,
Mrs. Mansfield Winnie, entered. She joined them in their devotions. When
they arose from their knees, his parents and sisters were passionately weep-
ing. Buel showed not a trace of a tear, but on his pale and wan face was a
look of abject despair. Taking a small written slip of paper containing a
scriptural text, he put it in his brother's pocket. He turned to his broken-
hearted mother, looked her in the face for a moment, then placing his arms
around her neck asked her to seek the Saviour. He said, “If any of you,
after I am dead desire to know anything of my past life, ask Messrs. Hiller
and wells and they will tell you. I trust in Jesus and his promises.” He
said he believed that he had a change of heart, and had no ill-feelings against
anyone, and asked forgiveness as he hoped to be forgiven.
The scene in the cell was most impressive. Directly in front of the doomed
man sat his three sisters and father, to the left his mother, to the right his
*little brother,” as he often termed him, and on either side were his spiritual
advisors. His sisters and mother were attired in plain black. A heavy black

23
veil hid from view the worn and weary looks of his devoted mother, who was
now to bid him the last farewell on earth. -
Soon the deep tones of the striking jail clock told the gathered few in
that narrow cell the hour for parting had arrived, and when the officer in
charge in kindly tones informed them of this fact, they reluctantly arose and
looking their brother in the face for the last time, burst out in uneontrolable
grief. It was with difficulty that the sisters and mother could stand, so shaken
by emotion were they. But without a tear, as each sister took his hand, he
said, “Seek the Saviour, and help father and mother to-good bye.” With a
sad, lingering farewell, they passed out.
He then requested Mr. Hiller to give his well-worn Bible containing
many marked passages together with a slip of paper, with his experience
written thereon, to his mother.
The cell door was again closed and the administering of the sacraments of
Baptism and the Lord's Supper was solemnized by Rev. N. W. Wells, of the
Presbyterian Church, and Rev. William M. Hiller, of the Methodist Church.
E. D. Hills and D. E. Siver, M. D., and Elders C. W. Smith and A. H. Wat-
kins were witnesses of the ceremony. After the witnesses had taken their de-
parture, the clergymen took seats on ether side of the doomed man. He ap-
peared resigned at times, and then there would pass over his pallid face the
look of fixed despair. After a time the Deputy Sheriff entered, and in a kind
manner told Buel that as it was customary to give a prisoner at the scaffold
the privilege of saying something, if so desired, he might do so. Or, if he
did not wish to say anything, the Sheriff would grant what other request he
might make. Buel replied that he thought he had nothing to say. The keeper
asked him if he would like a chair to sit on while on the scaffold. He replied
that he thought he should not need any. The Deputy then bid him farewell,
telling him what a good boy he had been while with him.

Facing the Dealh Warrant.
The Deputy passed out of the cell, and soon returned with the Sheriff, an
additional deputy and witnesses. The Sheriff then proceeded to read with a
steady voice the death warrant, as follows:
The People of the State of New York to the Sheriff of the County of Otsego:
WHEREAs, At a Court of Oyer and Terminer held at the Court House in
the Village of Cooperstown, on the 27th day of February, 1879, by and before
Hon. William Murray, one of the Justices of the Supreme Court of the State
of New York, Presiding Justice, and Samuel A. Bowen, County Judge of
Otsego County, and John B. Wheeler and Truman A. Crandall, Justices of the
Peace, Justices of the Sessions and Associate Justices, Myron A. Buel was
convicted of murder in the first degree, in having feloniously and willfully
killed and murdered Catharine Mary Richards, by strangling and choking her
with some rope or ligature, placed about the neck of her, the said Catharine
Mary Richards, while he, the said Myron A. Buel, was engaged in forcibly
ravishing her, the said Catharine Mary Richards, she being then and there of
the age of ten years and upwards; and was therefore sentenced by the said
Court of Oyer and Terminer, on the 28th day of February, 1879, to be hanged
by the neck on the 18th day of April next thereafter, between the hours of
ten o'clock in the forenoon and four o'clock in the afternoon, until he shall be
dead; and
WHEREAs, A writ of error was brought from the said judgmentandsentence
of the said Oyer and Terminer to the Supreme Court, and the said Supreme
Court having heard the said case argued, and having deliberated thereon,
affirmed the said judgment and sentence; and thereupon, to-wit, on the second
day of September, 1879, ordered, “That the record of judgment and other
proceedings are hereby, and be remitted to the next Court of Oyer and Ter-
miner of Otsego County, to proceed according to law.
And the record of such judgment having been filed, and such order entered
in the Clerk’s Office of the County of Otsego, on the 5th day of September,
1879; now,
THEREFor E, In pursuance of such judgment and order, and in pursuance
of the statute in such cases made and provided, we do by this warrant require
and appoint that you, the said Sheriff, cause the said sentence to be executed
on the 14th day of November, 1879, between the hours of ten o'clock in the
forenoon and four o'clock in the afternoon, until he shall be dead.
* - Given under the hands and seals of the undersigned, being the Judges
who constituted said Court of Oyer and Terminer, on this 19th day of Sep-
tember, *1879.
C. E. MARTIN, Justice of Supreme Court, Presiding.
IL. S.] SAMUEL A. BOWEN, Otsego County Judge.
TRUMAN A. CRANDALL
| - se:
JOHN P. WHEELER, Justices of Sessions.



From the Prison fo f/ig Gibbet.
---
At the conclusion of the warrant a brief prayer was offered. On arising
the doomed man reached up to the hook where hung his best coat, took it
down, put it on quickly, adjusted his collar and buttoning his coat tight
around him, resolutely took the arms of the deputies who were to perform
their last living service to him, and with the solemn procession headed by the
clergymen, who were followed by the Sheriff and the escorting deputies,
passed from the gloomy cell to the dreary stairway leading to the yard en-
closure. The prisoner swayed to and fro, inclining his head upward. The
door of the jail building was passed and with a few steps more he was placed
ON THE SCAFFOLD
platform, with the fatal noose, looking as if aware of its important duty, was
dangling near his head. It was but the work of a moment for the skillful
deputies to tie the nerveless arms behind with a stout strap, placing similar
ones around both legs just above the knee and at the ankles. The dreaded
black cap was drawn over the face and securely fastened by a small cord. The
Sheriff asked him if he had anything to say. From beneath the cap there
came a stifled “No.” The noose was carefully adjusted and all was ready.
SWUNG OFF INTO ETERNITY:
One jerk of the rope at 10:39% A. M., and the body shot slantingly
four feet up in the air, falling back with a sickening thud, a quivering mass
of flesh that held the flickering, expiring life of crime and sorrow. The
heart increased to 160, and its rapid thumping on the heaving chest in the
lingering stillness, told that its race was nearly finished. There was soon only
a feeble flutter and in a moment that, too, was gone. -
** IDEAD ! ”
How the word grated on the listener's ear ! It had taken only thirteen
and a half minutes for the life to pass from the body that for twenty-two long
years had been fashioning and molding itself for the trials and fortitudes of
the world.
Shortly after the village clock had told another hour the body was taken
down and examined by the physicians Drs. Westlake and Hills, who pro-
nounced the neck broken. Around the neck was a deep and dark mark made by
the fatal noose–a mark not unlike that found around the fair neck of Catharine
Mary Richards, in the cow stable, at Plainfield. The body was placed in a plain
pine coffin and was borne to a room in the jail, where the grief-stricken family

26
took their last farewell of all that was mortal of the son and brother. The
scene was most affecting. A prayer was offered, the lid of the coffin screwed
down, the remains placed in a hearse, and the sad cortege wended its way to
the cemetery in Clarksville, where it was the request of Myron to be buried,
by the side of his brother. Thus ended the crime and its fateful consequences.
Sleeping under the same earth that, like the sunshine and the rain, covers
the just and unjust, Myron Buel awaits the last great judgment coming
to all.
BUEL'S CONFESSION
TO HIS SPIRITUAL ADVISORS AND COUNSEL.
-º-º-
I have not been a very good boy! I once stole oats with my
brother Oliver, that is dead, from my uncle when I was about 15
years old. We were found out and my brother settled for the
oats, as I had no money. I stole money from a man while I was
at work in Exeter. I stole an ax when I was chopping wood
during the winter—I was charged with it but never returned it.
I also stole an overcoat.
In speaking of my present crime, I never attempted any lib-
erties with Catharine but once; never grabbed her in any way
to hurt her, but did talk with her about my passionate desire.
She was so beautifull could not help it. That made her mad, and
she told about my talking with her in the way I did. The family
all knew it : I knew they did. I was mad and meant to be re-
venged. I went to the hop yard the day of Catharine's death.
Bowen was working with me. I knew Mr. and Mrs. Richards
were gone away, and knew about what time they generally re-
turned. Complained to Bowen that my boots hurt my feet, and
told him I was going to the cheese house and get another pair.
All the while I was intending to kill Catharine because I was mad
at her. Oh! how I felt as I went down the path to the barn!
Found her in the cheese house. In order to get her where I
wanted her, let out the calf. Knew she would come and help
me if I needed her. Knew she avoided me because I did once
talk to her at the well and in the house of my passion for her.
She came to help me. When she was in the barn a man named
Davis went by, but the door was shut. Catharine and I were in
the barn then. Before Catharine knew my intention I threw a
rope around her neck, drawing it tight She could not speak
but made a hard struggle She was strong for a girl of her


28
age. Her eyes looked terrible when she was struggling. Then
I struck her with a milking stool that was near me. I then
ravished her. She was dead but warm when I committed the
crime. Only ravished her once. I then carried her where the
bull was, laid her down so it would appear the bull had killed
her, and I let out the bull. I then went to the hop yard, care-
ful to see that no straw was on my clothes. Remained there
until supper time. Came up with Bowen. We went to barn
and Bowen was first to find Catharine in the stall. I helped
carry her into the house, then went to West Winfield after Mrs.
Richards and found she had gone home another road. Came
back. Oh! how I did feel, but was bound to lookit through. Went
to bed that night with Bowen. Remained still in bed. Bowen
thought I was asleep, but I was awake nearly all night. It was so
awful, I could not sleep. The next day they thought me guilty
of the murder of Catharine. It became so hard toward me I started
to see S. S. Morgan, at Winfield, for advice. While there was
arrested. They took me before the Coroner's inquest, at Plainfield
Centre, and then before Squire Williamson, at Unadilla Forks.
I loved Catharine and was jealous. I intended to kill her and
ravish her because I was mad.

HIS ONLY WRITTEN CONFESSION
To his Coulºn-sel, Jarries A–. Lyºn-es-
I am guilty. I think that I deserve the punishment that
awaits me. I fully and freely forgive all who in any way have
injured me, and hope God will forgive them, as I feel he has
forgiven me. While I freely forgive, I earnestly crave forgive-
ness of all whom I have in any way injured.
I die with faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as my Saviour; and
I hereby return my thanks to all who have been kind to me,
particularly those who have defended me, watched with me, and
ministered unto me in spiritual things.
0%,…ſºſ.
In presence of
J. A. LYNES, WM. M. HILLER,
NEWELL WOOLSEY WELLS, CHRISTOPHER COYNE.
November 12, 1879.
-

Dús/ ſo Dysf.
---
What is there to add 2 The story, however tragic and sad, is finished.
With the name of the beautiful, the pure and lovely victim of murder's foul
embrace that of Myron A. Buel can never be linked, save as her brutal
destroyer. His crime can suffer no extenuation. His execution cannot be
questioned as other than eminently just. Was there doubt before? The
dying confession clears that shadow of doubt away. Neither can the deed
that sent a thrill of horror to every human heart be quickly forgotten. But
if the crime will live, his memory may be lost. That of Catharine Mary
Richards will be ever cherished. The pure soul of the murdered girl is
beyond the reach of mortal sympathy, beyond the need of mortal love. The
spirit of her slayer has gone before that higher Court of Justice from which
there is no appeal. His penitence and professed belief in Divine grace,
before the execution, may tend to soften the thoughts toward his memory, if
it cannot hide the blackened enormity of his crime. May “the dead bury
the dead.” The law is vindicated. Spread the pall over the body, lifeless
and cold. Let the mantle of charity cover all it will, and the solemn “earth
to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” be hushed into a prayer for the triumph
of right, the destruction of wrong, and the song of Bethlehem be wafted
from mountain top to mountain top, from vale to vale: “Peace on earth,
good will toward men.”
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