“When the
lamp was lit, we saw the dead body of Mr. Glymph, he had a pistol in his hand.”
[i]
McCreery
Glymph shot his brother dead. A war had been raging in his mind and the battle ended
in the kitchen passageway of his own home.
John Glymph was
twenty-two years old as he lay in a pool of his own blood in October 1888.
There had
been rumors around town about John and Jennie, and “Mack” finally cracked.
Mack collected
the children and stepped outside. Out into leafy nowhere. [ii]
In the pale dusk of impending night[iii],
Mack had risen up against his brother and slew him. He escorted his young
children to a neighbor for safekeeping and stumbled to find a man of the law, a
neighbor, Trial Justice Moore.
Moore’s
father approached Mack who was screaming, “My God! My God! Capt. Moore, I have
killed my brother, John Glymph.” Moore sent for a doctor, but Mack knew he
didn’t need one.
Jennie
Townsend was fetching. The granddaughter of Rev. Joel Townsend, a Methodist
minister known throughout the state of South Carolina. She was educated and
refined. She was joined in matrimony to Mack but joined in love to Johnnie.
John, a
fellow of no particular occupation had been living at his brother’s farm near
Hodges. He and Jennie were often seen “walking and riding together” prompting
whispers amongst the townspeople. Jennie had once been engaged to Johnnie but found
herself married to Mack with two children.
Mack had
grown dejected. The closeness between his brother and wife was palpable. Whenever
John played the cornet and Jennie the piano, he could hear desire in every
note. He wanted John to disappear. Hours before the shooting Mack had told John
to take leave of the premises, but John attempting to be chivalrous, said he
would not go while Mack was in such a mania. “He couldn’t refuse to protect a
lady.”
In a futile
attempt to protect Jennie, John pulled a gun, and concurrently so did Mack.
Mack fired first and shot his brother down with two shots to his head. One in
the left temple and one in the eye. Death came quickly for John Glymph as he
clutched a pistol in his right hand.
The
Coroner’s Inquest presented witness after witness testifying to rumors of
Jennie and John. When Jennie took the stand she painted Mack as a violent drunk
who was jealous of Johnnie and even her own father. It was true she had been
engaged to Johnnie when she married Mack but didn’t understand why Mack had
“any grounds to be jealous of Johnnie”. Johnnie was an orphan (at 21!) and had
nowhere to go. She implored Johnnie to be there for protection from Mack’s
constant threats.
On
cross-examination, a note to Johnnie from Jennie retrieved from the dead man’s
pocket revealed an obvious love letter…
The Abbeville Press and Banner, 24
Oct 1888
Mack was not
convicted.
Jennie
travelled to Hartwell, GA in 1890 to go before a divorce court where she wove a
tale of Shakespearean proportions. Jennie told the court that the night of the
wedding she was expecting Johnnie, but he had somehow been detained. In the
darkness, Mack had taken his place. They rode together in a buggy to a friend’s
home and were married. Ignorant of the swindling switch, she didn’t see the
face of her groom until after the wedding, leaving Johnnie all alone at the
rendezvous point. A dark night for the record books!
Jennie
eventually remarried Robert Lee Ayers and had more children. She died in
Anderson, SC in 1951.
Mack
remarried Annie Walton and they had four children. He became a successful
optometrist in Greenwood, SC. He died in 1928 with his obituary listing no
mention of his children with Jennie Townsend, Fannie May and Norwood Glymph.
They had been removed completely from his life. The fate of that day surely
must have lingered, or perhaps festered, in the chambers of his soul.
[i]
Testimony of John Robinson, Coroners Inquest, as reported by The Abbeville
Press and Banner, 24 Oct 1888
[ii]
Lyric from Best Days, Blur, The Great Escape, 1995
[iii]
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, Morituri Salutamus, 1825
