The People's Sonbag

Press, Volume CVI, Issue 31209, 5 November 1966, Page 13

The People's Sonbag

Singing Murderer

(Specially written [or "The Press" by DERRICK ROONEY)

TMMORTALITY came easily A to some badmen, but others had to work hard for it; and in the annals of folk-lore some of the more interesting (to the psychologist, no doubt, as well as the folk-lorist) are those who made certain of immortality by writing folksongs about themselves and their otherwise rather dull crimes.

Such a badman was Dr. J. B. Crane, a schoolteacher of, appropriately enough. Hangtown (later renamed Placerville), California. His crime, which echoed the theme of countless murder ballads, was to kill his sweetheart. Her name was Susan Newham, and she was one of his pupils; when she refused to marry him he strangled her. Crane immediately gave himself up to the police but the local vigilantes, impatient with due process of law and order, broke into the gaol and kidnapped him. They appointed their own judge and jury and, at an impromptu trial, "convicted” him and sentenced him to be hanged.

The execution took place in public and from all accounts was a favourite form of entertainment in that lawless town. Gold-miners came up and down the river and their ladies watched from strategically placed windows, waggons and buggies. There was no gallows, only a strong branch of an old tree. A waggon was driven under it, and a rope thrown over the branch. Dr. Crane stood in the wag-

gon box, with the rope around his neck, and sang his ballad: Don’t weep for me friends. but dry up your tears. For I have no sorrows and I have no fears. I am eager to go to that far, happy land, And take my dear Susan again by the hand. As the waggon was driven away Crane whipped the black cap off his face and shouted: “Here I come, Susan.”

A postscript is that a goldminer named Mickey Free was scheduled to die the same day for the murder of a Chinese. Not to be outdone by Crane, he asked permission to do a jig. The vigilantes agreed, and Free began to dance, rattling a board in the waggon. The jig continued after the waggon was gone.