Murder on my Mind - The tale of spirited liquor

The lever pulled, a sharp gasp rang out, and suddenly his weighted body fell through the gallows’ trapdoor. He gently swung from the beam as everyone watched in shock and disbelief. What crime could he have committed to die by such an ignominious death? For Patrick Gleeson, it was the act of murder. Set your mind in 1838 on the night of September 20th. Criminal Gleeson, a corporal in the 36th regiment and William Fletcher a respected Sergeant came to a heated disagreement. This argument regarded whether Patrick was too drunk to report for rolls that night or whether he was simply incompetent. Both exchanged heavy threats of what they would do to one another if they were ever alone in each other’s presence but unfortunately, one of them meant it and intended to make that threat a reality. 

Hours before Gleeson fired the shot that would change the lives of both Sergeant Fletcher and himself, he was in the comfort of a bottle of liquor. Sip after sip…after sip, he tapped into an untamed and unrecognisable spirit built with rage and frustration. Some would say it was drunkenness, others might say it was a high. But to him, the liquor had taken hold. Almost as if it had created a mind for him (Barbados Mercury and Bridgetown Gazette, 1839, p. 2). 

A drunk Patrick

A fixation on Fletcher took hold of Gleeson but soon one of them will be dead and the other would have to atone for his actions in the pit of the gallows. The next day began like any other day for Major Fletcher but in the other room where Patrick slept, his rage had peaked. As customary, the company executed its parades and inspection. However, Patrick had still been drinking and ready to get his lick back one way or another. The men fell into ranks and at about half past ten, some of William’s final words echoed across the courtyard, ‘Order arms, open pans!’ (Barbados Mercury and Bridgetown Gazette, 1839, p. 2).

Patrick marched forward, hoisted his musket, and fired one round into William’s left breast with his final words being ‘oh, my God!’ . His presence was cold, rigid, and transfixed as he identified himself as the shooter to the remaining company. In the chaos of gunfire, he calmly walked himself into the guard room. He was quickly arraigned and 9 months later, he stood before a grand jury of 11 and a petit jury of 23. Given the evidence, in less than 5 minutes his fate was decided. Guilty! (Barbados Mercury and Bridgetown Gazette, 1839, p. 2).

On Tuesday, June 25th 1839, the criminal took his final march through the streets of Bridgetown: Victoria, Lucas, Prince William Henry, and Broad Streets. By his side walked Sergeant Somerville, Rev. Mr. Rogers, and an unidentified male figure. He arrived at the dreaded gallows, and his reality set in that his life would be over with one pulled lever. His feet stood at the base of the scaffold and knelt. With acceptance, he took firm steps until he was on the platform. Unlike the fateful day of the murder, Patrick was visibly filled with emotion. Frequently looking to the sky with heaviness, his chest huffed and puffed as he struggled to address the crowd, stifled by guilt-induced palpitations. 

‘Brother soldiers, for God’s sake, let me entreat you to refrain from the use of spirituous liquor – spirituous liquor it is that have brought me to my untimely death’ (Barbados Mercury, 1839, p. 3).

If only he had taken his advice, two men would not have died. But hindsight is always 20/20. He said his farewells to the assembly and the priest gave the fatal sign. The drop fell, a cry of horror rang out and Mr. Gleeson was gone. 

Bibliography

“Court of Grand Sessions.” Barbados Mercury and Bridgetown Gazette, 11 June 1839, p. 2.

“Execution at St. Ann's Garrison.” Barbados Mercury and Bridgetown Gazette, 29 June 1839, p. 3.