Adolph and Lizzie.

(National Police Gazette, November 20, 1881.)

After less than two years of marriage in Iowa City, Iowa, Lizzie Stein filed for divorce from her husband, Adolph. She was tired of Adolph’s abuse, but he said that he would not live without Lizzie. When the divorce became final, on November 4, 1881, Adolph slashed and stabbed Lizzie, then he poisoned himself with belladonna.

 “The horror of the deed threw a chill over the entire city, and the remembrance of it will not pass away for many years,” said the Chicago Tribune.

Read the full story here: A Day of Blood.

So Far from Home.

The Pearl Bryan Murder

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Killed her Pretty Rival.

Henry Provenchia (sometimes spelled “Provencher”) met Lizzie Hutchins in 1890 at a dance in Somersworth, New Hampshire. Three weeks later, they were married. He was 19, she was 15. They were happy for a while, but Lizzie had an ugly temper, and when stirred up, she became physically abusive. Henry said that once, “he saw stars when she biffed him on the nose.”

After Lizzie gave birth to a son, she started drinking heavily. Her temper became worse, and the couple frequently quarreled. In 1897, they realized they could no longer agree and decided to separate.  Henry took the boy and moved to Rochester, New Hampshire, and Lizzie stayed in Somersworth.

In Rochester, Henry hired 18-year-old Annie Cox as his housekeeper, and their relationship blossomed into romance.  Lizzie’s mother, Sadie Fuse, also lived in Rochester, and she could see Annie Cox as she came and went from Henry’s house. She relayed this news to Lizzie, who became consumed with jealousy.

Lizzie would go to Rochester and spy on Henry and Annie, peeking through windows, hiding in the woodshed, and trying to break in. She would visit Henry alone and try to reconcile. Allegedly, they still occasionally slept together. But the last time she went to his house, Lizzie asked him to kiss her, and he refused. He did not wish to have anything more to do with her. She angrily responded that she would make it hot for him.

On January 31, 1899, Lizzie, along with Henry’s sister, Agnes Provenchia, visited Lizzie’s mother. They had been drinking the night before and were still intoxicated. Sadie Fuse described the visit:

My daughter, Lizzie Provencher, came up from Somersworth on the 11:27 train this morning. She came to my house bringing with her Henry Provencher's sister. Her first words were, 'You are mad with me.'

My reply was, 'Lizzie, you know that I don't welcome anyone who comes to my house intoxicated as you are.' 'Perhaps you would not be so mad if you knew what I have come for,' said Lizzie.

Then she went on to say, ' I have come to kill that woman who is living with my husband and I am going to do it. I have a man locked in my room in Somersworth. I have got his watch and his revolver, and he can't get out of that room until I get back.'

She then asked for some machine oil, and taking a revolver from her stocking, sat down and deliberately oiled and cleaned the weapon. After spending some time in the house, during which she and her companion went down cellar to drink, she went out. This was early in the afternoon.

Lizzie and Agnes went to Henry’s house. Agnes would later state, in a thick French-Canadian accent, that she went under threat of bodily harm. When she learned of Lizzie’s intentions, she did not want to go, but Lizzie threatened to shoot her if she didn’t.

Agnes said that they entered the house without knocking, and Annie Cox received them pleasantly. Lizzie asked if it was her intention to live with Henry permanently. Annie said she was preparing to leave, and if Lizzie would not harm her, she would get out at once. Lizzie said she ordered Annie to leave the house, but Annie refused.

Either way, Lizzie was not satisfied.  When she drew the pistol from her stocking, Agnes fled from the house. Lizzie fired at Annie, hitting her in the arm. She fired three more shots, and Annie fell to the floor, dead.

As Lizzie returned to her mother's house, she met Joseph Hunneman, an acquaintance, on the street. She could not contain herself and had to tell him what she had done.

“Do I look like a woman who has killed another?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

“I have,” she replied, “I fired three bullets into Annie Cox. I am going to kill my husband.”

He tried to persuade her not to do so, but she said, “Yes, I have thought it over for six months, and I am going to kill my husband.”

Lizzie was laughing when she returned to her mother’s house. She said she had killed Annie Cox because if she couldn’t have Henry, no other should. She removed all but one bullet from the revolver.

“That one I will reserve for myself,” she said, “If the officers get too close, they will never take me alive.”

The man Lizzie claimed she had locked in her room in Somersworth was Assistant Marshal Paquette. Agnes had invited him up to the apartment the night before. The three of them drank a considerable amount of liquor, and Paquette stayed the night. Sometime during the night, Lizzie took possession of his revolver, the gun she would use to commit the murder. Paquette easily escaped from the locked room the next day, but when he learned what had happened, he knew he was in trouble.  He quickly left town and sent a telegram to his boss from Haverhill, Massachusetts, to say he would not be reporting for duty.

Joseph Hunneman was the first to find the body of Annie Cox. After meeting Lizzie on the street, he went to Henry Provenchia's house to see if she told the truth. He found Annie’s body lying in a pool of blood. For some reason, Hunneman delayed telling the police about the murder, and Lizzie had enough time to leave Rochester.

Lizzie and Agnes went to the train depot but found that they had missed their train. They separated then. Agnes stayed in Rochester, where she was arrested as a witness. Lizzie hopped a freight train, riding in a car carrying horses. She got off in Dover, New Hampshire, and was seen boarding a train for Portland, Maine. The police were waiting for her in Portland, and after obtaining extradition papers, they took her back to Rochester.

Lizzie Provenchia was indicted for first-degree murder. She said she would plead not guilty and claim self-defense, saying Annie Cox attacked her first. But when the case went to court in Dover that September, she retracted her plea of not guilty and pleaded guilty to murder in the second degree. The court accepted her plea and sentenced her to twenty-five years in prison.

A large crowd gathered at the depot in Dover on October 3, 1899, to see Lizzie off to prison. Lizzie was stylishly dressed in a black satin gown. Around her neck she wore a black feather boa, and her hat was tastefully trimmed in black feathers. A wrap was carelessly thrown over her arms to conceal her manacled wrists.

---

Sources: 

“Alleged Murderess,” Worcester Evening Gazette, February 1, 1899.
“Begins Long Sentence,” The Boston Globe, October 4, 1899.
“The Cox Murder,” Evening Bulletin, February 2, 1899.
“Deliberate Murder,” Lowell Sun, February 1, 1899.
“Horrible Murder,” Foster's daily Democrat, February 1, 1899.
“In First Degree,” Weekly Union, February 22, 1899.
“Inquest at Rochester,” Daily Kennebec Journal, February 2, 1899.
“Killed Her Pretty Rival,” National Police Gazette, February 28, 1899.
“Mrs Provenchia Arrested,” Springfield Republican, February 2, 1899.
“Shot Dead by a Lealous Wife,” Evening Times, February 1, 1899.
“A Stormy Life Led to Crime,” Evening Times, February 4, 1899.
“Without Bail,” Weekly Union, February 8, 1899.

Charles and Hugh.

Charles Arthur Preller and Hugh Mottram Brooks
(Illustrated Police News, April 25 & May 2, 1885)

Charles Arthur Preller and Hugh Mottram Brooks (alias Walter Maxwell) met in Liverpool, England, in January 1885, and traveled together by steamship to Boston. During the voyage, they began an amorous relationship. When the ship landed in America, they went separate ways but agreed to meet later in St. Louis.

They booked separate rooms at the Southern Hotel in St. Louis, but it was well known by the staff that both men were sleeping in Brooks’s room. On April 6, 1885, Brooks checked out, telling the hotel that Preller was traveling on business and would return for his luggage. 

On April 30, after guests reported a foul smell, the manager found Charles Preller’s corpse decomposing inside a trunk. The manhunt that followed ended with the arrest of Hugh Brooks in Auckland, New Zealand. 

Read the full story here: The St. Louis Trunk Tragedy.

Scott Jackson's Evil Eye.

 

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Killed by their Landlord.

On December 30, 1865, Francis McGaghay noticed that the coal stove in his apartment at 597 Grand Street in New York City was not drawing well. He went up to the roof, tied a brick to a string, and lowered it down the chimney. He found the flue obstructed about eight or nine feet from the top. He went down to the apartment on the third floor, the floor above his, and asked if he could examine their flue. The girl who answered the door refused admission.

McGaghay’s mother, Rosa, and 4-year-old son, Francis Jr., also lived in the apartment. When Francis Sr. came home at 1:00 Sunday morning, he found his mother and son awake but groggy and nauseous. He comforted his son and then lay down on the bed with him. McGaghay did not wake up until 9:00 that night and found himself at a house on Monroe Street, with no idea how he had gotten there. A neighbor, Maria Congrove, had gone to the McGaghays’ apartment around 2:00 that afternoon and found Rosa and Francis Jr. dead. Francis, still alive, was taken out of the apartment.

A coroner’s jury convened on Monday and quickly uncovered the cause of the deaths. Dr. Beach, who performed the post-mortem examinations, found the lungs of both were congested and discolored. The stomachs were also congested, and the livers and kidneys were fatty. The right side of the child’s face was ecchymosed—discolored by bruising. The doctor concluded that both had died as a result of inhaling poisonous gas.

The Grand Street tenement was owned by Mrs. Eliza T. Hunter. She had recently made her son, Edwin B. Hunter, the agent in charge of the building. Anxious to increase his income, he wanted the McGaghays to move out so he could rent more space Bearup & Causker, a tinsmith renting on the same floor. Forty days earlier, he told them they had twelve days to move out. Rosa told him she had hired the place for life and would not move.

Hunter obtained a dispossess warrant but did not serve it. Instead, he told one of the residents, he intended to smoke them out. On the Thursday before the deaths, he brought a mason into the apartment on the floor above the McGaghays and had him insert a flat stone in the flue below the stove. When the mason asked why, he said it was none of his business. At the inquest, Hunter testified that he told the McGaghays not to build a fire as the chimney was stopped.  He acknowledged that he knew that the result would be; if they did not leave it would kill them.

The coroner’s jury returned the following verdict:

That the deceased came to their deaths by suffocation, by inhaling coal-gas, through the action of Edwin B. Hunter, in having a stone placed on the flue of the chimney leading from the room where the deceased resided, at No. 597 Grand Street, December 31^st, 1865.

Hunter was held on $3,000 bail while awaiting the action of the Grand Jury. His mother paid the bail. It is unclear whether the Grand Jury heard the case or indicted Edwin Hunter.

---

Sources: 

“The Case of Suffocation in Grand Street,” The New York Herald, January 2, 1866.
“From New York,” Janesville Weekly Gazette, January 3, 1866.
“The Grand Street Case of Suffocation,” New York Herald, January 3, 1866.
“The Grand Street Tragedy,” New York Herald, January 6, 1866.
“A Murder, Out of the Pale of Law,” Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, January 20, 1866.

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So Far from Home The Pearl Bryan Murder The headless corpse of a young woman, discovered in the woods of Northern Kentucky in February 1896, disrupted communities in three states. The woman was Pearl Bryan, from Greencastle, Indiana, and her suspected killers were students in Cincinnati, Ohio. How Pearl Bryan died so far from home is an enduring mystery.

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Scenes from the Cronin Murder.

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, June 8, 1889.

Dr. Patrick Henry Cronin was a prominent Chicago physician and a member of Clan-na-Gael, an American political organization formed to promote Irish independence from British rule.  He publicly accused the Executive Board of Clan-na-Gael of embezzling funds. On May 4, 1889, Dr. Cronin disappeared. Eighteen days later, his naked body was found wedged inside a catch basin. He had been stabbed to death with an icepick.

Read the full story here: Clan-na-Gael and the Murder of Dr. Cronin.

"Portuguese Joe."

18-year-old Lizzie McDaniels was walking home from a wedding party in Cherokee Flat, California, at around 4:00 am on June 1, 1871. Two companions, Mr. Wells and Miss Glass, walked with her.  Without warning, a man sprang from the bushes, seized Lizzie by the head, slashed her throat from ear to ear, and stabbed her in the heart. The attacker let go, and Lizzie ran about ten feet, then died in the arms of Miss Glass. The attack was so sudden that it took them all by surprise. Wells drew his pistol and fired but missed the man as he ran away.

The killer was a former lover of Lizzie McDaniels, known as “Portuguese Joe.” He had been courting her for about two years but she was trying to discourage him. He said he would kill her if she would not consent to be his bride, but she had not taken his threat seriously.

Portuguese Joe was also known as Austrian George, though some said he was Italian. This was likely to make it challenging to identify the killer. To make matters worse, there were several criminals known as Portuguese Joe operating in the region—a Portuguese Joe in Placer County was convicted of grand larceny, a gang of Mexican horse thieves in El Dorado had a Portuguese Joe, and a Peruvian arsonist in Nevada was called Portuguese Joe. But the community was outraged and determined to capture Lizzie McDaniels’ killer. The Marysville Daily Appeal said, “If taken it is probable that the courts will not be troubled with a trial of his case. Judge Lynch will preside, and a stout rope and short shrift will be given the murderer of Miss McDaniels.”

Lizzie’s Portuguese Joe was captured at his hideout in the mountains near Cherokee on June 5. Though he was not lynched, the Appeal was correct that the courts would not be troubled with a trial. Portuguese Joe was shot through the head while trying to escape. They placed his corpse inside his cabin and set fire to the building. Nothing was left but ashes.

---

Sources: 

“Committed to Jail,” Sacramento Daily Record, February 2, 1871.
“Events of the Day,” Critic, June 6, 1871.
“Horrible Murder,” San Francisco Chronicle, June 2, 1871.
“Horrible Murder,” Marysville Daily Appeal, June 2, 1871.
“Killed,” Daily state register., June 7, 1871.
“Not a Mexican,” Gold Hill daily news, September 15, 1871.
“Oroville, June 1st,” Weekly Alta California, June 10, 1871.
“Pacific Coast News,” Cheyenne daily leader. [volume], June 6, 1871.
“Taken Below,” The Placer Herald, July 29, 1871.
“Terrible Murder of Miss Lizzie McDaniels by Her Lover in California,” National Police Gazette, June 24, 1871.
“Thieves Caught,” Placer herald., February 4, 1871.

Butchery in Baltimore.

Captain McGregor of the No. 8 Engine Company on Fifth Street in Baltimore saw a woman come out of the house across the street and collapse on the pavement on the afternoon of January 8, 1889. He ran to the woman and found her covered with blood.

“Ida did this,” she told him. She said, in German, that her servant, Ida Kessel, had demanded money from her and, upon being refused, assaulted her. She swooned and said no more. Captain McGregor sent for the police, who took her to City Hospital.

The woman, 65-year-old, Margaret Schneider, had been severely hacked with twenty-two gashes to her face, throat, and hands. Her left ear was mashed, and the front of her skull was crushed. During the afternoon, she had periods of semi-consciousness but was never lucid enough to provide any more information than what she gave Captain McGregor. She died at 8:30 that evening.

Mrs. Schneider lived on Fifth Street with her daughter and grandson, both of whom had been in Philadelphia that week. Their servant, Ida Kessel, had only been with them since the previous Thursday, and they believed she had been stealing silverware.

There was confusion early on as to the identity of the killer. The family knew her as Ida Kessel, but her real name was Kunegunde Betz. Mrs. Schneider’s daughter, Susan Leahr, gave the police a detailed description: 30 years old, five feet seven inches tall, with broad shoulders, jet black hair, high cheekbones, and dark brown, deep-set eyes. She spoke only German.

Two policemen saw her board a streetcar on January 10, and they jumped on the front platform.

The driver said, “Have you arrested yet the woman you fellows are looking for?”

“No,” said Officer Khatz, “but I will do so now.”

He walked over to the woman and politely asked her to accompany him. She refused, and when he put his hand on her shoulder, she jumped up and tried to flee. Officer Krouse grabbed her before she could escape, and they took her to the Eastern Police Station.

Kunegunde Betz, alias Ida Kessel, spoke only German and was questioned through an interpreter. She claimed that she was in the kitchen when a black man jumped over the fence and entered the house. He choked her and asked where the old woman was. She told him upstairs, and when he went to find her, Kunegunde gathered her clothes and left. When Detective Seibold asked her if the black man spoke German, she said no, but she understood what he said.

The police were aware of the house on Fifth Street even before the murder. Neighbors had been suspicious and reported that the house was quiet during the day but lit up all night, with people coming and going at all hours. When the police went inside, they found evidence of a brutal struggle, with blood on the walls and floor, and a trail of blood where the victim had been dragged. The rest of the house, however, was scrupulously clean. While the house looked plain from the outside, it was magnificently furnished within. The bedrooms looked like bridal chambers, upholstered in different colors. In a second-floor back room, the police found a complete opium layout. They also found a bundle of letters addressed to Mrs. Shneider—some making appointments or reserving rooms, others due bills for wine, etc. It was a house of ill-fame and Mrs. Schnieder was a procuress, providing women, wine, and opium for the “club men” who visited.

The police found a hatchet, which they believed to be the murder weapon. They also found a dress saturated with blood. The killer took it off and changed clothes before fleeing.

Kunegunde Betz was indicted for first-degree murder, but her trial was postponed when it was discovered that she was pregnant. She had the baby in prison and carried it in her arms when she stood trial the following December. Her attorneys argued that she could not get a fair trial in Baltimore, and were granted a change of venue to Towson, Maryland.

The prosecution presented a straightforward case of Betz assaulting and killing Margaret Schnieder when she refused to give her money. However, they could not directly connect her to the hatchet or the bloody dress.

The defense argued that Mrs. Schneider kept a house of ill-fame where any number of persons had access and could have committed the crime. The attorney also wanted to read the incriminating letters in court. The defense objected strenuously to both. The judge, after hearing from both sides and reading the letters himself, ruled that before entering testimony on the character of the house, the defense had to prove that it was customary for keepers of houses of ill-fame to allow visitors to have keys to the house. The letters, he said, offered such meager light on the subject that it was better not to read them in court.

After three days of testimony, the case was given to the jury, who found Kunegunde Betz guilty of manslaughter. She was sentenced to six years in the State Penitentiary.

---

Sources: 

“"Ida Did This.",” Omaha Daily Herald, January 9, 1889.
“Arrested for Mrs. Schneider's Murder,” Trenton Times, January 10, 1889.
“Brained with a Hatchet,” Illustrated Police News, January 26, 1889.
“Cleverly Captured,” Sun, January 10, 1889.
“Convicted of Manslaughter,” Sunday Telegram, February 16, 1890.
“For Murdering Her Employer,” New-York Tribune., January 10, 1889.
“Forecast of Baltimore and Vicinity,” Sun, February 25, 1895.
“In the Courts,” Sun, June 3, 1889.
“Kunigunda on Trial,” Sun, February 13, 1890.
“Mrs. Schneider's Murder,” sun., January 10, 1889.
“News of the Day,” Alexandria gazette., January 9, 1889.
“Noted Murder Cases,” Sun, December 4, 1889.
“Was Mrs. Schneider Killed With a Hatchet?,” Sun, January 17, 1889.
“A Woman without Fear,” Sun, February 14, 1890.

Emma and George.

Emma Malloy and George E. Graham
Illustrated Police News, April 17, 1886 & May 15, 1886.

Famous Evangelist, temperance leader, author, and publisher Emma Molloy opened her home to the lost and lonely, much as others would take in stray cats. She had an adopted daughter, two foster daughters, and she found a job at her newspaper for George Graham, an ex-convict she had met while preaching at a prison. They all lived happily together on Emma's farm in Missouri. 

But George Graham was having sexual relations with both Emma and her foster daughter, Cora Lee. His decision to marry Cora without divorcing his current wife resulted in a murder, a lynching, and a scandal for the entire family.

Read the full story here: The Graham Tragedy.

The Richardson McFarland Tragedy.

On the afternoon of November 25, 1869, Daniel McFarland walked into the office of the New York Tribune and there shot and killed Albert Richardson, a Tribune editor. Richardson had planned to marry Daniel McFarland’s ex-wife, Abby Sage McFarland. The facts of the murder were irrefutable, but the trial that followed focused instead on the behavior of Abby McFarland. Was her adultery an attack on the sanctity of marriage that drove Daniel McFarland to murderous insanity? Or had she been justified in leaving a drunken, abusive husband, running to the safety of another man’s arms?

Read the full story here: The Richardson-McFarland Tragedy.

Undue Religious Excitement.

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, March 28, 1868.

Robert Sprague, a normally peaceful man, was spending a quiet evening with his family in their home in Jasper, Iowa, on February 17, 1868. He was reading the Bible with his mother, wife, and children when his 70-year-old mother asked him a question in relation to a religious meeting the night before. 

At the previous night’s meeting, Sprague had acted strangely. It was not specified exactly what he did, but it caused others there to believe he was “laboring under a deranged mind.”

Sprague’s 13-year-old daughter replied to her grandmother’s question, hoping to defuse its effect on her father. It was too late. His mother’s question had triggered Sprague to spring to his feet and threaten to kill her. She ran to the door but fell as she was leaving the house. Sprague leaped on his mother and began choking her while his wife and children tried to pull him off.

When she was dead, Sprague stood up, and in a moment of clarity, he realized he was out of control. “Send for Baumer to tie me,” he said to his wife, referring to his neighbor. Then he told her to take the children and leave at once. She did as he ordered.

The police came soon after and arrested Sprague. There is no record of what happened to Robert Sprague after his arrest, a fact which artificial intelligence reluctantly confirmed (see “Why I Hate A.I.”) It was believed that Sprague suffered from insanity caused by "undue religious excitement." He was probably committed to an insane asylum without a trial.

---

Sources: 

“Crimes and Casualties,” Troy Daily Times., March 3, 1868.
“In Jasper, Iowa,” Nashville Union and Dispatch., February 29, 1868.
“A Man Murders his Mother in the Presence of his Wife and Children,” Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper, March 28, 1868.
“A Man Murders his mother in the Presence of His Wife and Children,” Chicago Tribune., February 25, 1868.

The Demon Druses.

 "The verdict of the coroner’s jury charges that Mrs. Druse shot her husband with a revolver, struck him with an axe upon the head, and severed his head from his body, causing instantaneous death. That Roxalana Druse afterward cut up and burned the body. Mary J. Druse, George W. S. Druse, and Frank Gates are charged with being feloniously present and abetting the said Roxalana Druse in committing the murder."

--"The Demon Druses", Illustrated Police News, February 14, 1885.

Read the full story here: The Druse Butchery.

Why I Hate A.I.

Artificial Intelligence would be an excellent tool for historical research, but for one flaw – it does not distinguish between fact and guesswork. 

I was researching Robert Sprague, who murdered his mother in Jasper County, Iowa, in 1868, and I could not find any information on his trial and sentencing. I decided to ask Grok, which very confidently returned a quite detailed answer, concluding with this:

"On November 3, 1868, Judge H. S. Winslow sentenced Sprague to life imprisonment at hard labor in the Iowa State Penitentiary in Fort Madison. He was transported there shortly after and served his sentence without notable appeals or pardons recorded in state archives. Sprague died in prison in 1902 from natural causes related to age and health decline."

It sounded good, but I won’t post anything without specific references. I went back to Grok and asked, “What is the source for Sprague's trial information?”

Grok responded with two book titles. Both were available online, but neither had any reference to Robert Sprague. I went back a third time and said, “These references do not contain information on Robert Sprague. Please provide specific sources.” To which Grok responded:

"Upon further investigation using digitized historical archives, genealogical databases, and period-specific resources, I was unable to locate verifiable primary or secondary sources confirming the details of Robert Sprague's arrest, trial, conviction, or imprisonment for the alleged 1868 murder in Jasper County, Iowa. Searches across 19th-century Iowa court records, local histories, newspaper archives (including Chronicling America and Newspapers.com), and penitentiary registers yielded no mentions of this individual or case."

Apparently, the first answer was a guess, cobbled together from historical information gathered using the time and place provided, without finding any actual information about the Sprague case. It then presented its guess as fact. I had to ask three times before Grok admitted that it did not know what it was talking about. 

Now, more than ever, do not trust anything on the internet that you can’t verify independently. 

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Lust and Lead.

Around 1:30 a.m. on February 5, 1881, police were summoned to 109 Poplar Street in St. Louis to investigate gunshots. Inside, they found a scene of bloody carnage. At the top of a staircase, a woman lay on her back, the blood from three gunshot wounds slowly dripping down the steps. Sprawled across the bottom steps in a pool of blood lay the corpse of a man with a single wound to the head. It was a murder-suicide. 

The victims were Xavier and Aglae Wilhelm (no relation to the author), who were married in France sixteen years earlier, when she was 16 and he was 25. The age difference was a problem from the beginning; Aglae liked to flirt, and Xavier was profoundly jealous.

They emigrated to America and ended up in St. Louis. Aglae had some money, and they used it to open a coffee restaurant and ice cream parlor. They were raising two children, but business was bad, and Xavier and Aglae were constantly quarreling. Aglae couldn’t take it anymore, and in 1880, she took the children back to France.

Xavier followed soon after and persuaded her to return to St. Louis. They left the children in France and came back to the city with a new business plan. They purchased the two-story building on Poplar Street, opened a saloon on the first floor, and a brothel on the second floor. 

Sometime later, Xavier returned to Paris to recruit new blood for their house of ill-fame. He secured three young girls by telling them they would work as domestics in a fine hotel, for fabulous wages. The authorities in France got wind of his scheme and managed to rescue two of the girls. He returned to St. Louis with one.

During his absence, Xavier put his bartender, Jean Morrel, in charge of the saloon. Upon his return, Xavier began to suspect that Morrel had taken charge of his wife as well. The old jealousies returned, and he swore out a warrant charging his wife and her paramour with adultery. On February 5, the case came before a judge who dismissed it for want of evidence. Racked with jealousy and devoid of hope, Xavier put an end to their problems with four gunshots.

The coroner’s inquest returned the only possible conclusion: 

Verdict: Aglae Wilhelm came to her death from the effects of bullets fired from a revolver at the hand of her husband, Xavier Wilhelm, deceased at 109 Poplar Street. 

Verdict: Xavier Wilhelm, suicide by gunshot wound.

Morbid fascination with the crime was so strong in St. Louis that people visited the scene of the crime all day to gaze upon the place where blood had been shed. Crowds gathered at the morgue, though the bodies were covered and kept behind closed doors. 

Public fascination with the crime was matched by utter disdain in the press for both Xavier and Aglae. The Memphis Daily Appeal called it A “fitting end to a bad pair.” The St. Louis Post-Dispatch said: 

Mr. Wilhelm is to be congratulated upon his success. As a rule, the blackguards who murder women are so exhausted by the manly exercise that they miserably fail when they attempt to do a good turn in the same line for themselves.

---

Sources: 

“Bathed in Blood,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 5, 1881.
“The Bloody End,” The Cincinnati Enquirer, February 6, 1881.
“Fitting End of a Bad Pair,” Memphis Daily Appeal, February 6, 1881.
“Lust and Lead,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 6, 1881.
“News Article,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, February 5, 1881.
“The Wilhelm Horror in St. Louis,” Illustrated Police News, February 26, 1881.

"Your Time has Come!"

 

--"'Your Time has Come'", Illustrated Police News, December 8, 1883.

Thomas Barrows was found dead in his home in Kittery, Maine, on November 14, 1883.  He was lying in his bed with six bullet wounds in his arms, legs, and head. His wife, Mary, told the coroner that Thomas had committed suicide. The coroner was faced with two immediate mysteries: if Thomas Barrows had committed suicide, why did he wound himself five times before firing the shot to the head that killed him? And how had he shot himself six times with the five-barreled revolver found near the bed?

In fact, his wife, Mary, persuaded her son-in-law, Oscar Blaney, to murder her husband. Blaney ambushed Barrows by the barn, shot him four times, and fled. But Barrows was not dead. Mary brought Blaney back to finish the job. found Barrows sitting on the side of his bed, groaning.

“Oscar, I guess I will go soon,” said Barrows.

“Yes, your time has come now,” Blaney said and fired two more shots.

Read the full story here: The Kittery Crime.

The East Liverpool Borgia.

Daniel Van Fossen and his wife hosted a dinner party for their extended family on January 8, 1885, at their home in East Liverpool, Ohio. Fourteen people were in attendance, including members of the Van Fossen, McBane, and Collins families. Coffee and Tea were served after the meal, and almost immediately, the coffee drinkers complained of a burning, bitter sensation in their throats. Soon, they all became violently ill with symptoms of arsenic poisoning. Around midnight that night, six-year-old Allie McBane died after suffering great agony. Soon after, Ann Collins, Mrs. Van Fossen’s 85-year-old mother, succumbed.

Eleven people who drank coffee became ill, while three who drank tea remained unaffected. An examination of the coffee pot revealed a package of “Rough on Rats,” a popular brand of rat poison, at the bottom of the pot. Daniel’s 19-year-old daughter, Annie Van Fossen, was suspected of intentionally poisoning the group. She had prepared the meal and the coffee, and although she drank some coffee, she was not as ill as the rest of the party.

Annie Van Fossen was a bit unstable. She was addicted to laudanum, and three times in the past two years, she had taken so much that she needed her stomach pumped. Some believed these were suicide attempts.

The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette reported a strange trip Annie took two weeks before the poisoning. She went to Bellaire, Ohio, where she met some young men, “without the formality of an introduction.” She told them that on Saturday, her mother had given her $5 to buy groceries, but she didn’t want to stay at home. She slipped down to the Cleveland & Pittsburgh depot and traveled to Bellaire with a brakeman. She remained until Sunday evening, then went to Wheeling ostensibly to see a sister. She returned to Bellaire on Christmas night in company with a drug clerk from Wheeling. They were both drunk and remained out overnight. She told the Bellaire boys that she “was not going home as long as she could keep on the turf.” After the poisoning, they spoke to the press out of fear that they would be somehow connected to the affair.

When Annie Van Fossen was arrested and charged with first-degree murder, she denied committing the crime. The press quickly turned on her, accusing her of malice and calling her “The Coffee Poisoner” and “The East Liverpool Borgia.” After waiving a preliminary hearing and pleading not guilty, Annie was remanded to the county jail in New Lisbon, Ohio, to await trial.

She spent five months in jail, but her cell was quite comfortable on the second floor across from the sheriff’s sitting room. The cell was carpeted and furnished by her friends and appeared more like a parlor than the cell of a murderess.

She was free to associate with the male prisoners and became quite attached to George Hunter, one of the inmates. Hunter was also awaiting trial for murder; he was accused of killing his sweetheart, Gertie Phillips. Annie’s friendship with Hunter blossomed into romance, and the couple vowed to wed if both were acquitted.

The murder trial of Annie Van Fossen began on June 15, 1865, and lasted a week. More than sixty witnesses were summoned. Annie testified that the “Rough on Rats” had accidentally fallen into the coffee pot without her knowledge. The jury accepted her defense and found her not guilty, though many believed her beauty and graceful figure had also worked in her favor.

George Hunter was ecstatic when he learned of Annie’s acquittal. However, he was found guilty of second-degree murder and sentenced to life in prison. Sadly, the wedding never took place.

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Sources: 

“Annie Van Fossen,” The Dayton Herald, February 10, 1885.
“Annie Van Fossen Acquitted,” The Sun, June 22, 1885.
“Annie Von Vossen's Trip,” Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, January 14, 1885.
“East Liverpool Briefs,” The Saturday Review, January 17, 1885.
“A Girl Saved from the Gallows,” The Sentinel, June 23, 1885.
“A Girl's Awful Malice,” Morning Journal and Courier., January 10, 1885.
“Miss Annie Van Fossen, the East Liverpool O, Borgia,” Illustrated Police News, January 24, 1885.
“The Murder of Gertie Phillips,” Stark County Democrat, April 2, 1885.
“Pleaded Not Guilty,” Grand Rapids Eagle, January 12, 1885.
“Telegraphic Sparks,” Plain Dealer, January 9, 1885.
“Two of the Victims of the Poisoning Dead,” Canton Daily Repository., January 12, 1885.
“The Van Fossen Poisoning,” Illinois State Journal., January 12, 1885.

A Horrible Butchery.

Three teenage boys made a shocking discovery in Philadelphia’s East Fairmont Park on December 26, 1888. They were in a secluded area near the reservoir where the Water Department stored pipes. Sitting atop a large steel pipe, one of the boys noticed two coarse gunny sacks inside the three-foot mouth of a nearby pipe. He thought they contained the clothes of a tramp. Another boy took a pocketknife and cut a hole in one of the bags, large enough to see that they contained the remains of a human body. Horrified, they ran to inform the clerk at the reservoir office. 

The police arrived with a patrol wagon and took the bags to the station house. They opened them and found that one bag contained a man’s legs, and the other contained his trunk and head. His hands were tied across his breast with a stout cord. He was wearing three shirts, but his legs were unclothed. The head was crushed as if by a blow from an axe or sharp-cornered club. The left leg had been severed near the trunk with a knife, and the bone sawn through. The right leg was similar, but the bone was partly sawn, then broken.

Beside the body was a page from the Philadelphia Record, dated December 6. On the lower margin was written, “Kohler Kelab, Hoboken Hotel.”  The face was covered with clotted blood, but when washed, the features were plain and apparently those of a light-complexioned man about 30 years old. Chief of Detectives Wood stated that the man had been murdered within the last 48 hours, somewhere near where the body was found.

The discovery caused great excitement in Philadelphia, with the population as anxious as the police to identify the body. The Hoboken clue brought Mrs. Kohler, proprietress of the Hoboken Hotel, to Philadelphia to look at the body. She positively identified the man as a Mr. Kreutzman, who had stopped at the Hotel on December 3 and then left for New York City. Despite the identification, the police continued their investigation.

Antoine Schilling had been missing since Christmas Day, and one of his friends thought a picture in the newspaper resembled Antoine. Six of his friends, including Susan Schroop, the daughter of Schilling’s landlord and business partner, Jacob Schroop,  went to view the body. They all identified the dead man as Antoine Schilling. 

The police visited the home of Jacob Schroop, four miles from where the body was found. They asked what had become of Antoine Schilling, and Schroop said, “I don’t know, he left here Monday night.” In the cellar of the house, police found a bloody axe and saw, as well as evidence that the floor had been cleaned and scrubbed. The police took Jacob to the stationhouse and put his wife and daughter under surveillance. 

Schroop was extremely nervous, and he collapsed on the steps of the stationhouse. He was helped inside, where he denied any knowledge of the murder.

Antoine Schilling boarded with the Schroop family, which consisted of Jacob Schroop, his wife Wilhelmina, and Susan, daughter from a previous marriage. Schilling, 24, and Schroop, 49, were business partners. They ran a small grocery and provisions store, but business was not going well. Early speculation said that Schilling had been murdered for his money, but he only had $80. 

Schroop maintained his innocence until Chief of Detectives Wood visited his cell at midnight on the night of his arrest. Around 2:00, Wood came out saying that Shroop had confessed. Schroop told him that he got up at about 5:00 on Christmas morning and found no food in the cupboard. He accused Schilling of eating all that was left. Schilling denied it, and a fight ensued. Schroop knocked him down and beat him to death with a heavy piece of wood. He left the body in the kitchen until that evening, then took it to the cellar and dismembered it, loading the parts into two bags. The next morning, he carried the bags by wagon to the park.

The police were happy to have a confession but did not believe Shroop’s account of the crime. They viewed the murder as a conspiracy involving the whole Schroop family, and it was beginning to break down. Wilhelmina Shcroop was prostrated with grief over the arrest of her husband, so much so that she had to be hospitalized. Under oath, in the presence of her father, Susan Schroop told the police that a few weeks earlier, her mother had begged her to put poison in Schilling’s coffee and became very angry when Susan refused. Her father denied this.

“You know I am telling the truth,” she said to him, “and you ought to be ashamed of yourself to ask me to lie.”

“Your stepmother is innocent,” said Schroop.

“That is not true,” she replied, “Oh, father, if you had never met that bad woman, you would never have killed this man. She has been your ruin.”

On the witness stand at the inquest, Wilhelmina denied any knowledge of the murder. As the coroner read Susan’s sworn statement, Wilhelmina exclaimed, “Oh! My God, such a lie; such a lie. Terrible, terrible! That girl’s down on me; she’s down on me, and that’s why she lies so.”

Other witnesses revealed more dirt on the family. Rosa Hatrick, landlady of Wilhelmina and Jacob before they were married, said that Wilhelmina, who was Mrs. Richter at the time, had left her husband and married Jacob while Mr. Richter was still alive. Special Officer Henry testified that Susan told him that her father wanted her to marry Schilling and then poison him. Owen McCaffery, their current landlord, testified that Jacob had ill-treated his daughter and that Wilhelmina had once told him that Schilling was her brother.

The coroner’s jury charged Jacob Schroop with the murder of Antoine Schilling and Wilhelmina (whom they now called Mrs. Richter) as an accessory before the fact. The crowd around the courthouse was so thick that several policemen had to clear a path to the patrol wagon that took them to jail.

Jacob Schroop was tried and easily convicted of murder in March 1889. He was sentenced to hang. The grand jury indicted Wilhelmina, but her attorney asked for a test of her mental condition to determine if she was fit for trial. She was examined by the prison physician and the prison agent, who determined she was of unsound mind. The Judge committed her to the Eastern Hospital for the Insane.

On February 20, 1890, at a double execution in Moyamensing Prison, Jacob Schoop was hanged on the same gallows with Thomas J. Cole, who murdered his roommate. Both men died quickly.

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Sources: 

“Accused by Their Daughter,” Chicago Daily News., January 3, 1889.
“Confessed He Murdered Schilling,” Kingston Daily Freeman., December 31, 1888.
“Doomed to the Gallows,” Sunday Inter Ocean, March 3, 1889.
“Foully Slain for $80,” Daily Inter Ocean, January 1, 1889.
“A Horrible Butchery,” Philadelphia Inquirer, December 27, 1888.
“A Human Body in a Water Main,” Illustrated Police News, January 12, 1889.
“Is it Kreutzman?,” Philadelphia Inquirer, December 29, 1888.
“Last Sunday On Earth,” Philadelphia Inquirer, February 17, 1890.
“Mrs. Schoop Adjudged Insane,” New-York Tribune, June 25, 1889.
“Mrs. Schoop indicted for Murder,” Philadelphia Inquirer, March 15, 1889.
“The Murder Rehearsed ,” Philadelphia Inquirer, January 9, 1889.
“The Mystery Solved,” Chicago Daily News., December 31, 1888.
“The Noose,” Evening World, February 20, 1890.
“Park Mystery Solved Important,” Philadelphia Inquirer, December 31, 1888.
“The Philadelphia Murder,” Evening Post, December 31, 1888.
“The Philadelphia Murder,” Cleveland Leader and Morning Herald., January 3, 1889.
“The Philadelphia Murder,” Daily Evening Bulletin, January 16, 1889.
“That Bad Woman,” Daily Saratogian, January 4, 1889.
“Two Executed on One Gallows,” New York Herald, February 21, 1890.