Transitory Frenzy.

Charles E. Henry came to Denver, Colorado, determined to live the fast life. The ambitious nineteen-year-old left his home in London, Ontario, in 1887 after winning $5,000 in the Louisiana lottery. He planned to use his winnings as seed money to begin a career as a professional gambler and to finance a life of luxury as he did so.

Henry had some initial success in the arcades of Denver, winning, on average, $30 a day for his first two weeks in town, but he spent more than that on the girls at the Palace Theater. The show at the Palace featured a variety company with a number of attractive young actresses and female vocalist. The theater required the women, when not on stage, to entertain individual customers, luring them to private boxes in the theater balcony and enticing them to buy drinks, for which the women received kickbacks. Charles Henry bought drinks for most of the cast before focusing his attentions on Miss Effie Moore, an actress with a round face and long curls of shiny black hair, who did a solo seriocomic performance in the show.

Two Shots, a Shriek.

“A dark, mean little bedroom, a woman, half-undressed, dirty and pale, and blear-eyed from long excesses, a male companion, leaning over her with a revolver at her head, two shots, a shriek, an ugly hole under the ear, and the vice and crime of Boston had added another murder to its long score.” The Boston Herald’s vivid description of the murder of Josephine Brown on Christmas Eve, 1891, served to underscore her sad and dismal life. Married and divorced by age twenty, Josephine’s family blamed her for the failed marriage and turned her away. Left to fend for herself, Josephine Brown spent the next twenty years as a prostitute.

Joe, as she was known on the street, had been working in a brothel run by Mrs. Mary Ann Fisher on Pitt Street, in Boston’s West End. The house had recently closed down with the arrest of Mrs. Fisher, and Joe was working as a street walker. The demise of Mrs. Fisher’s house meant more than the loss of shelter, it left Joe without protection from the potential violence of her profession, and without anyone to keep her away from whiskey, which, when she was left on her own, became Joe’s consuming passion.

Love and Arsenic.

Elizabeth Ragan

As Arthur Ragan lay dying of a stomach ailment, in Piqua, Ohio, on April 3, 1855, his wife, Elizabeth took the physician aside and told him she believed her husband had poisoned himself. She said she thought the cream of tartar he had been taking for his stomach was actually arsenic. Mr. Ragan died that day, and a post-mortem examination proved his wife correct, he had died of arsenic poisoning. However, there were reasons to believe that Arthur Ragan had not committed suicide, and suspicion fell on Elizabeth as his murderer.

After Ragan’s death the postmaster of Colesville, Ohio, came forward with a highly incriminating letter. The previous December, the letter had, by mistake, been given to a man named Murray. When Murray read it and realized it was not for him, he returned it to the post office. The letter had been intended for James Mowrey, and the postmaster made sure it was delivered correctly, but the contents had been so disturbing that he first made a copy which he turned over to the police:

Crazy John Daley.

John Daley rushed from his house on Chouteau Avenue, St. Louis, bleeding profusely from the neck, at around 11:00 the night of May 11, 1883. He surrendered himself to Officer Jones, saying that he had just murdered his wife. Officer Jones summoned a patrol wagon to take Daley to the Four Courts, then went to Daley’s house to see about his wife.

Daley, a 55-year-old machinist, lived in a two-room house on Chouteau Avenue, with his 35-year-old wife, Eliza, and eight children, ranging in age from 5 months to 12 years. Inside the house Officer Jones found Eliza lying on the bed, her skull crushed and her throat cut. He found a rusty axe with blood on both ends of the blade. It appeared that Daley had first struck her head with the butt of the axe, then cut her throat, finishing the job with a knife.

There were no signs of a struggle. Eliza Daley was in her nightclothes, her shoes, and stockings by the side of the bed. The incident woke none of the children; the youngest lay by her mother’s side with blood on her head.

A Romantic Story.

(From New York Tribune, September 20, 1871)

A Romantic Story.

A man accused of murder proved innocent after death.

Some workmen, digging holes for the posts of a fence, in Unionville, Westchester Co., a fortnight ago, unearthed the skeleton of a man, evidently long buried. From the position of the bones, the skill resting between the knees, it was surmised that the unknown deceased had not received the customary burial, and that murder had been committed. A shoemaker—Ephraim Jones—lived near the spot where the skeleton was found, and the gossips of Unionville quickly connected him with the supposed murder. It was remembered that nearly 23 years ago, Thomas Brown, a journeyman shoemaker, had suddenly disappeared from the village. Some one of tenacious memory called to mind that Brown had been paid $175, due as wages, by Jones, and that the shoemaker had removed his shop from its site in former years. Upon further investigation, it was found that the old shop stood directly over the place where the skeleton was discovered.

With these facts in their possession, Coroner Weeks and Detective Stoway of Westchester County determined to search for further proof against Jones. The story of the finding of the skeleton and the suspicions of the community against Jones soon came to the newspapers of this city. When the journals reached Unionville the account was read by Jones, who appeared greatly horrified that he should be accused of murder. He was an old man, and was so greatly shocked at the charge that the following day, while lamenting it, he was prostrated by some sudden attack, and died in a few moments. The neighbors loudly hinted that Jones has poisoned himself, but a Coroner’s inquest disproved this suspicion, and proved that the deceased died of heart disease.

On Monday evening a nephew of Jones visited Police Headquarter in this city, and asserted that facts were in his possession which fully proved his uncle’s innocence. He said that Sergt. Louis Young of the Twelfth Precinct, testified that 23 years ago he had witnessed the death of Brown at No. 43 Courtlandt St. The Sergeant was a step-son of Brown, and was 12 years old at the time. He recollected clearly Brown’s return from Unionville, the money he had with him, and his death soon after.

Death for an Insult.

In 1881 J.T. Carter married Alice Thorpe; he was a successful saddler and she the accomplished and highly-regarded daughter of W.L. Thorpe, a contractor and lumber merchant. All were prominent citizens of Pensacola, Florida. The marriage was never a happy one and after six years, Alice Carter could no longer tolerate her husband’s irascible temperament and the couple separated. They tried to reconcile but J T Carter could not suppress his temper and they separated again. This time Alice obtained a divorce and took refuge at her father’s house.

She was soon courted by J.M. Thompson, a prominent young grocer. Wasting no time, Thompson soon proposed to the pretty young divorcee and she said yes.

J.M. Carter had never accepted the divorce and his ex-wife’s subsequent remarriage, and he reacted by insulting her every time they met. Reportedly, men were shocked at the vile expressions he used against Alice. Her new husband became the butt of Carter’s jests and “he was made to feel the blush of shame at indecent allusions made to his wife.”

Shortly after noon, on December 21, 1889, Alice and J.M. Thompson were walking down Tarragona Street in Pensacola. As Carter approached them on the other side of the street, he made an insulting remark toward Alice. When Thompson indignantly replied, Carter crossed the street and struck Thomson, knocking him to the ground. Carter fell on top of them and they began to tussle. Alice screamed and attempted to pull Carter off, but as she stooped, the blood of her former husband spurted in her face. Thompson had pulled out his pocket knife and stabbed Carter in the neck, cutting his jugular vein. He stabbed four more times and J.M. Carter died soon after.

The tragic outcome had been expected by those who knew the parties involved. Public sentiment generally sided with Thompson. When the case went to trial the following March, testimony lasted only one day. The defense successfully proved threats had been made against the defendant’s life by Carter previous to the knifing. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty.

---

Sources:
“An Ex-Husband's Offense,” The Atlanta Constitution, December 23, 1889.
“Death for an Insult,” New York Herald, December 23, 1889.
“Pensacola,” The Times-Picayune, March 16, 1890.
“Stabbed by his Ex-Wife's Husband,” National Police Gazette, January 11, 1890.
“Tragedy at Pensacola.,” Elkhart Daily Review, December 23, 1889.
“Trial of J. M. Thomson,” The Times-Democrat, March 15, 1890.

Fatal Cutting Affray.

Little Murders

Thomas Reveley

Thomas Reveley, a prominent St. Louis attorney, went into Peckington’s Golden Lion saloon at Seventh and Pine Streets a little after 9:00 pm on February 8, 1896. He had gone to the Golden Lion for his evening meal, as he often did, and ordered a plate of sausages. A widower, about 50 years old, whose right arm was almost totally paralyzed, Reveley lived with his father who was in the middle of a contentious lawsuit. It was clear that Thomas Reveley was going through some hard times. Reveley was already drunk when he arrived at the Golden Lion; one observer remarked, “He looks like a man who had drunk himself down in the world.”

Reveley ate his sausages rather quickly prompting Mike Green, a 60-year-old waiter, popular and good-natured, to jokingly ask, “Did you eat all that by yourself?” Reveley replied rather savagely that it was none of Green’s ---- ---- business. Green, astonished by the force of his remark, turned away and waited on another customer. Reveley made a few more harsh remarks then left the Golden Lion and went across the street to Schweikhardt’s saloon.

The Foulest Murder Yet.

Little Murders

(From Oregonian, August 17,1878)

The Foulest Murder Yet.

The Tullis Murder in Sacramento County – A Confession by the Public Administrator that he Instigated It.

San Francisco, Aug. 15.—Troy Dye, public administrator of Sacramento county, has made a full confession concerning the recent murder of A. M. Tullis on Grand Island. He confesses to have instigated the murder for the purpose of getting control of the estate of the deceased. He implicates as perpetrator of the deed Edward Anderson, a Swede formerly in his employ and another party, name not yet ascertained. Anderson has also made confession corroborating that of Dye. Anderson was to receive $6,000 for the job. They had previously tried to kill Tullis by poison. They had also discussed the murder of other citizens. The details are replete with cold-blooded cruelty. Dye has heretofore borne a good reputation in the community, and his connection with the affair has created the utmost surprise and excitement. The details of the confessions of Dye and Anderson are to the following effect:

Dye had found the office of public administrator unprofitable, and had remarked occasionally in jest the he would have to kill some one to make it pay. The idea obtained a deep hold on his mind and he took Anderson, whom he had for a long time employed in his butcher shop, and another party yet unknown into his councils. Dye and Anderson charge each other with being the tempter. They finally fixed on Tullis as a victim. Dye had been his friend and neighbor for 12 years and knew the value of his property, and as Tullis had never been communicative concerning his family affairs it was supposed he had no relative to claim the estate. Over two months ago Anderson and the unknown party went to Tullis’ place to put the plan into execution, but their courage failed them. Dye urged the crime persistently and Anderson conceived the idea of a murder by poison. A bottle of poisoned cocktails was prepared in a saloon kept bye Dye & Clark in Sacramento and Anderson went to Tullis’ ranch ostensibly in search of work, and gave him the bottle after taking a number of drinks together from a bottle of good liquor, and left. For some reason this plot miscarried. It was then decided that bold work was required. A boat was built at Dye’s house, Sacramento. Anderson pulled it down the river and was joined by his confederate below the city, and they proceeded to Tullis’ ranch, found him in the orchard and knocked him down with a sand bag and shot him in several places. This was the evening of Thursday, the 1st inst., at 7 o’clock. Dye, that evening, staid at his house in Sacramento till 8’oclock entertaining a visitor. He excused himself and took a buggy, drove down the river about 16 miles, met the assassins at the place appointed and drove them back to Sacramento. During the ride they related all the circumstances of the murder to Dye. The trio returned much under the influence of liquor. Dye says Anderson had revealed to him the crimes of his past life, including the murder of two sheep herders in vicinity of Sacramento. Dye’s plan for realizing on the estate of Tullis was to compound with the creditors. His legitimate commissions would have been about $3,200. Dye has always borne a good reputation, but parties now coming forward affirm he was a bushwhacker during the late war and pillaged and murdered indiscriminately. The confession cover about eight closely printed columns, developing every stage of progress to the commission of the crime. Neither party will be allowed to turn state’s evidence and the district attorney is confident of convicting both.

Augusta Schmidt.

Little Murders

   

J. Oscar Walton, a tenant farmer in Walton, Indiana, had an argument with his landlady, Mrs. Augusta Schmidt, the morning of October 21, 1893. They shared a house on the rented property, Mrs. Schmidt and her family in one half, Walton and his family in the other. They stood in the doorway between the two halves as they argued. Walton was upset that geese and hogs owned by Mrs. Schmidt had been let loose in his cornfields and were scattering the corn all around. As the argument became more heated, Walton threatened to take his gun and shoot the livestock. Mrs. Schmidt went into her side of the house and returned with a revolver, and while Oscar Walton’s mother and ten-year-old son watched, Augusta Schmidt shot him in the head and killed him.

The Murder and the Ghouls.

Little Murders

(From Cincinnati Daily Gazette, March 24, 1879)

The Murder and the Ghouls

The course of several of the city papers on the terrible tragedy of the murder of Harry Baldwin is an example of the way in which a mere mercenary desire for a sensation scandal, to sell a few more papers, can overcame all principle, all conscience, all the instincts of decency, all sense of justice toward the dead, and all regard for the feelings of the living relatives. Harry Baldwin was found on the street, after his arrival in the night by railway from Indiana, shot through the head and dying, and with signs of having been robbed. Men have been murdered on our streets for the purpose of robbery before now. And even if the police did not at the moment know who did it, this was no reason for throwing themselves into wild inventions. He was found in this dying slate leaning against the wall of a house nearly opposite the public house of which Kate Bennett is mistress. With no other ground than this, the theories of the police and of these newspapers have centered upon and circulated round Kate Bennett's house, and have persisted in connecting Baldwin’s death with that.

From the first, and up to this time not a particle of evidence has been produced to show that Harry Baldwin ever had any illicit relations with any girl, or was ever in that house, yet the police and these papers have insisted that the solution of the mystery was in that house, and have invented and given currency to a mass of wild fancies of his relations with a woman who had become desperate because of his marriage. No such girl has yet been found nor heard of.

The police arrested the Bennett and all persons in her house—boarders and servants. This was accepted and published as positive proof that Baldwin went from the cars to that house and there met his death at the hands of a desperate woman. Then a woman of the lowest degree of prostitution, living in that vicinity, was arrested with her two daughters, one of them described as having had her face partly eaten up with disease. This conveyed the idea that Harry Baldwin was a companion of all sorts of degraded women. A paper remarked that it did not know which of these Dalton girls was his paramour.

A Mystery Solved by a Skeleton.

Little Murders

(From New York Tribune, September 12, 1884)

A Mystery Solved by a Skeleton.

Complicity of a Wife in the Murder of Her Husband and Children.

[By Telegraph got the Tribune]

Beaver Falls, W. Va., Sept 11.—The mystery surrounding one of the most remarkable crimes committed in the Coal Valley has been cleared up by a singular chain of circumstances. Some fifteen years ago the family of John Ireland lived in a cabin a short distance from this town. The family consisted of husband, wife and three children. One Thompson, who had been in the neighborhood for some months was a frequent visitor at the Ireland cabin, called there one morning and found, so he at the time reported, the dead bodies of the three children, all young lying on the floor in pools of blood. Ireland and his wife were missing. Thompson gave an alarm at the nearest house a mile away and a search for the missing people was made. After some time Mrs. Ireland was found gagged and bound to a tree. She affected to be nearly frantic and claimed that her husband had committed the deed. As he was missing she was believed. Soon after Thompson and the woman began living together. They quarreled frequently and one day she was found dead in her bed. No inquest was held and it was given out that she died of heart disease. Thompson disappeared four or five years ago.

On Tuesday, a party of boys came to the mouth of a shaft that had been sunk years before for coal, but for some cause was abandoned. While standing at its edge one of them dropped a knife into the shaft. They determined to recover it. Precautions were taken against foul air and by the aid of a rope and torch the boy was lowered to the bottom a distance of twenty-five feet. A scream of terror caused him to rapidly draw up when he declared there was a skeleton in the shaft. The authorities made examination and brought up few bones and a rusty tin tobacco box. In it was found a document written by Ireland saying that Thompson aided by Ireland’s wife had attempted to kill him but at first only stunned him, that recovering he discovered the three children dead. Seeing he was alive they again beat him and carried him out for dead and threw him into the shaft. He recovered and wrote the note after vainly calling aid. Undoubtedly Mrs. Ireland was bound to the tree by her accomplice to throw suspicion on the husband.

Murders, Murder Trials, Confessions of Murder, Discoveries of Murder, &c., &c.

Little Murders

(From Richmond Enquirer November 6, 1845)

The last Chicago Democrat 22d ult., is little better than a continued chronicle of horribles. First comes a confession said to have been made by Birch, one of the murderers of Col. Davenport, in which he discloses all the particulars of that horrible transaction.

“The Redmans, (or Redings,) kept a house which was used as a general rendezvous for the fraternity of rascals in their visits to that part of the country. It was at the house, (on Devil Creek, Lee county, Iowa,) that the plan was devised and conceived of murdering Col. D., and the father of the family, (there are three of them—the father and two sons) was present and assisted in the arrangement for the bloody deed. He has been indicted by the Grand Jury of Rock Island, as an accessory before the fact. A son of this old man (William) assisted at the robbery of Knox and Drury’s office, in Rock Island, about the time of Davenport’s murder, for which an indictment was also found against him.”

The trial of Birch, and two of his accomplices in the murder, was to have commenced last Monday:

“Fox of Indiana, alias Sutton of Illinois, alias Johnson of Iowa, is still at large In the violent indignation of the people against him, woe to the man or woman who secrets him. We fear that any discovery of the kind would lead to Lynch law; and unless he is found soon, some persons who have heretofore secreted him had better leave the State until the excitement is past. There is a point beyond which such knaves as Fox, Big Davis, Favor, Baker , Aiken, Land, Dean, Driskell, Button, &c., &c., cannot go in Illinois.”

Next comes the solution of a mysterious murder, committed some months since:

“It will be remembered that, soon after the two Hodges were hung, one of the brothers of the Hodges was killed in Nauvoo. Among other developments at Rock Island, it has come out that, out of fear of his confessing, he was shot by Jack Reding, or Redman, whose father and brother are now confined at Rock Island. Jack is still at large.”

A Murderer’s Death Dance.

Little Murders

(From New York Sun February 10, 1888)

A Murderer’s Death Dance.
      
Fiddling and Singing the Night Before His Execution.

The Utica, N.Y., Feb. 9—Clement Arthur Day was executed in Utica jail at 10:24 ½ o’clock this morning in the presence of 24 citizens, including all officials. He was declared dead in 11 ½ minutes. His neck was broken. Before he left his cell, he declared that he had nothing further to say to the public. On his knees, in the presence of the Rev. E. Owen, his spiritual adviser, he declared himself guiltless of premeditated murder. Four drams of croton oil, sufficient to kill four men, were found in his cell within a week. His father declared he would never be executed.

Day clapped his hands after the death warrant was read, and smiled. On walking over the ice in the jail yard he laughed heartily over the falls of the sheriff, Rev. E Owen, a newspaper reporter, and Special Deputy Burke, exclaiming: “That’s four of them.” He yawned while his legs were being strapped on the scaffold. He shook hands and kissed Deputy Burke, and assisted Deputy Ballow in adjusting the rope about his neck, He smiled as the cap was drawn over his face and the smile was still there when the body was cut down.

The crime for which Day was hanged was the murder of his paramour, Johanna Rosa Cross. The crime was committed on the banks of the Black River canal the 9th of last June. Day’s father, a lock tender, was the only witness of the tragedy. Day was jealous of his mistress and feared she would leave him. She had tried many times to get his permission for her to visit her mother, but he always refused, saying she would never return. The day before the tragedy she received a letter from her mother saying she was dying and asking the daughter to come to her. She wrote a reply to the letter and she and Day started down the bank of the canal toward Boonville, where they intended to mail it. They had gone but a short distance when Day turned on her and struck her with a butcher knife. She fell and he continue cutting until eight distinct cuts were made, one of which entered the heart and another the abdomen. The father informed the authorities of the crime, and after spending a day in the woods the murderer gave himself up. In the interviews with him after his arrest not a particle of regret for what he had done could be drawn from him. He pretended to have been converted and to be penitent, but his conversation and instincts were vulgar and beastly to the end. The condemned man passed the last night of his life on earth without displaying any nervousness. On the contrary, he seem to enjoy his violin, and sang and danced with jail officials and others with apparent unconcern for his future until 12:30 this morning. He then went to bed and slept until 6:30.

A Tale of Deepest Crime.

Little Murders

(From Wheeling Register, Wheeling West Virginia, November 28, 1883)

A Tale of Deepest Crime.

The Mystery Surrounding a Murder

Which Resulted in Four Other Tragedies

Made Clear After Many Years.

Seymour, Ind., November 27—Yesterday there arrived in Medora, a town situated nineteen miles from this place, a woman giving her name as Eliza Kemp. She is now engaged as an agent of dress patterns. Seventeen years ago there occurred in Seymour one of the most blood curdling and mysterious murders ever committed in this part of Indiana. There were subsequently three other murders committed, caused directly by the first murder. For the past seventeen years these murders were entirely Surrounded by the Deepest Mystery, and not until the present time, when the testimony of Liza Kemp was given, was the true history of the crime known. A history of the crime, briefly given, is as follows. On the night of January 3, 1866, Moore Woodmansee, a wealthy merchant of Medora, came to Seymour, on his way to Cincinnati. He had $2,000 in cash, with which he was to purchase goods. He registered at the Rader House for the night, and was assigned to room No. 7. He was missed form his room, and his disappearance was, for over nine months, a mystery, when, in October, his body was found in White River, his head was cut off, but the examination by several doctors who treated Wooodmansee during life

Gave a General Verdict

that it was the remains of Woodmansee. The Rader House was ransacked for supplemental evidence of the suspected murder. After removing the carpet in room 7, blood stains were found on the floor, and attempts of scrubbing stains from the stairway were discovered. Gordon Kinney an employee of the hotel was suspected of knowing of the murder. When the excitement caused by the finding of the body was at its highest, an unknown man called Kinney from his door one night, and as he opened the door was shot and instantly killed. Soon the unfruitful efforts to find the murderers were abandoned. Again, a man named Eben Wheeler was mortally wounded and when told he had to die, Wheeler made a confession, stating that on the night of Woodmansee’s murder two men had taken from the Rader stable the horse and spring wagon.

In the Morning They Returned.

The bottom of the wagon was covered with blood. It was afterwards taken out and a new one put in instead. Rader was arrested for the murder, but acquitted, and again the affair was a dark mystery.

On the night of the murder a dance was being held in the dining rooms of the Rader House. Toward the close of the dance Sam Long and A. W. Flynn, both gamblers and hard cases, left. It was well known that Flynn and Woodmansee had had a difficulty and were engaged in a law suit. Flynn had threatened to kill him and his partner, Sam Long, said the case should never come to trial. It was also proven that they had followed him to Seymour. After the murder these men returned to Medora. Every time, during the many years, that new evidence or news concerning the Woodmansee murder was reported, it was followed by a meeting of these men

Suspicion Began to Point Strongly Towards Them.

Flynn threatened to shoot one Emery, who has talked about him but Emery shot first and instantly killed Flynn. Sam Long the partner, immediately disappeared and Alden E Rodman, a suspected accomplice was one night taken by unknown mob and hung. Thus, from knowing of the murder of Woodmansee, Gordon Kinney was murdered, Reuben Wheeler was mortally wounded, A. W. Flynn was shot and instantly killed, and A. E. Rodman was hung. Over seventeen years passed away, and the mystery of one murder had grown into the mystery of five still unsolved.

Yesterday, as before stated, Eliza Kemp arrived in Medora. The Woodmansee murder is no longer a mystery. For Eliza Kemp is no other than the Eliza Kemp who occupied Room 8, next to Woodmansee’s room in the Rader House on that fateful night . She said “On that night I was

Suddenly Awakened by a Noise

in Room 7. In a second I was fully awake, and realized that some one in the next room was begging for his life. I heard “Sam, kill the d—n s— of b—“ Then a blow followed by a heavy fall, and a moan or two. Then one said: “He’s dead, d—n him.” They then agreed to take his body, cut the head off and throw the body in the river. I left Seymour early in the morning and have not told what I have heard. I am going to Kansas in a few days, or would not now tell what I do, because my life had been threatened time and again by anonymous letters and in other ways.” Five of the six supposed to have been connected with this murder have been killed and Sam Long, the only remaining left in 1866 and has never since been seen or hear of. Thus, after seventeen years of mystery the murder did will out.

Murder in a Saloon.

`

Little Murders

(From New York Herald,  New York, New York, May 8, 1876)

Murder in a Saloon.

A Cripple Beaten to Death with his Own Crutch.

Port Jervis, N. Y., May 7 1876.

.
Much excitement has been occasioned at Beach Ridge, near Stevensville, Sullivan County, by the perpetration of a murder in that usually quiet and law abiding community. The facts of the tragedy ae substantially as follows:--On Saturday James Morgan became engaged in an altercation with one James O’Hallen, the proprietor of an unlicensed drinking saloon. Morgan is a cripple, and during the trouble he

RAISED HIS CRUTCH

and struck O’Hallen a heavy blow with it. O’Hallen snatched the instrument from Morgan and knocked him down and left the saloon. Soon after, however, he returned and beat the still unconscious man until he was dead, The murderer then started to leave the village, but was arrested and imprisoned. There are said to be facts that will prove the murder to have been premeditated by O’Hallen for some time, and  the matter is to be thoroughly investigated.

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"Murder in a Saloon." New York Herald, 8 May 1876.

Two Murderers Murder Each Other.

`

Little Murders

(From Trenton State Gazette, Trenton, New Jersey, May 2, 1871)

Two Murderers Murder Each Other.

One of the most remarkable personal rencontres ever recorded in the annals of this city occurred on Tuesday last, resulting in the instant death of the notorious William E. Rose, and the equally notorious Jesse Robinson. Rose shot Robinson fatally through the body and then ran. The dead man (as it were) pursued, without heeding the icy hand of death upon his vitals or the dread eternity, upon whose very brink he reeled, and, with his last agonies of exertion, emptied his revolver at his enemy, inflicting wounds which proved instantly fatal, after which he himself almost instantly expired. Since the event this community breathes freer, as many citizens of Jefferson were considerably apprehensive of violence from one or the other of these men. Several suits brought against them in the name of the state of Texas will abate on account of their death. The findings in the case of Robinson were disapproved by General Reynolds and he was set at liberty. The findings in the case of Rose were either not acted on by General Reynolds or else President Grant dodged the responsibility of ordering the execution of the sentence. - Jefferson (Texas) Radical, April 8.

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"Two Murderers Murder Each Other." Trenton State Gazette, 2 May 1871.

A Heathenish Murder.

Little Murders

(From New Haven Register, New Haven, Connecticut, September 4, 1879)

A Heathenish Murder. 

A case of “voudooism” and murder is reported from the very heart of New England. On Sunday last, Freddy, the two-and-a-half-years-old son of J. W. Smith of Springfield, Mass., died of arsenical poisoning. The person who committed the murder and who has been arrested or the crime is a mulatto woman of 25 years of age, named Julia or Lizzie Shepard. She claims to have come to Springfield from Madison, Connecticut and she has for some weeks been employed as a domestic in Springfield. The facts in the case regarding the alleged poisoning are as follows: The Shepard woman, coming to this city three weeks ago in search of a friend named Smith, went to J. W. Smith’s and, though finding it the wrong family, was permitted to remain, being of respectable address. The child Freddy was much thrown in with her, as Mrs. Smith was sick and he seemed to be constantly “ailing,” vomiting much accompanied with violent contraction of the leg and arm muscles. These attacks were especially noticeable after the child had taken milk, which the woman often gave him. Miss Shepard would express great solicitation for the child, but after a time the boy conceived such a dislike for her as to scream whenever she approached him. She also said that he was too handsome to live, and would die at a certain time. The family were naturally alarmed, and secured prescriptions from two physicians, and the boy appeared to mend. But on Sunday afternoon the child suddenly died after violent spasms, and the Shepard woman left. A chemical analysis showed evident traces of arsenic, and there seems to be no doubt that the child died of the effects of that poison. After the woman’s arrest, a bottle containing arsenic was found in her trunk. What lends additional force to the charge against her is, that a robust six-year-old boy in another family, where she went on Tuesday, was the same night attacked with symptoms similar to the Smith boy’s though he recovered the next morning. A pudding she carefully prepared for the family on that day is preserved for the chemist. Miss Shepard had also washed and ironed all of her clothes, intending, she said, to leave town soon for Troy. She is an unusually smart, attractive and neat-appearing woman, and is withal rather stylish, and she protests her innocence of the cause of her imprisonment. The father of this second child says he caught her face suddenly off its guard Tuesday, and found her regarding him in a manner that he describes as devilish in the extreme; and he suspects that the pudding was for his benefit. No motive can be imagined for the crime, except that the murderess wanted to be considered a Voudoo prophetess, a character both dreaded and revered among the more ignorant colored people of the South, and that to achieve the religious honor she predicted the death of the Smith child and, to clinch the fact of her gift of prophecy, used the arsenic to secure its death. That such a horrible a crime for so shameful a motive could be committed at all seems almost incredible, but there are many well authenticated cases of similar affairs among the barbarous blacks of Africa, as well as among the southern negroes. It is to be hoped that the case will be thoroughly sifted to the bottom and, if guilt is shown, that a speedy hanging affair may occur at Springfield. The ordinary hates, malice, rivalries and lusts of men and women are plentiful enough causes of murder without counting so fanciful a reason for murder as the desire to gain the character of a prophetess. The Freeman murder at Pocasset was a religious affair. This Springfield murder seems to be a heathenish affair although the motives are not altogether dissimilar. Trifling with human life in all such cases should be punished with the highest penalty of the law.

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"A Heathenish Murder" New Haven Register, 9 Sep 1879.

A Mystery in Pittsburgh.

Little Murders

Police Lieutenant Snyder, walking down Frankstown Avenue in Pittsburgh’s East End, around one a.m. on January 8, 1889, heard a gunshot from the house of Albert Davis, a well-known African American restaurant owner. The Lieutenant forced his way inside and found Davis lying dead at the bottom of a staircase. A revolver lay on a table next to several empty beer bottles. Standing near the body in their nightclothes were Carrie Palmer and Mollie White, both African American. Mollie White, a girl no older than 14, said she had been awakened by the shot and saw Davis fall down the stairs, but knew nothing of the circumstances leading up to his death. Carrie Palmer refused to give any information.

A New Jersey Mystery.

Little Murders

The body of Francisco Avidois was found lying among the cat-tails in the meadows outside East Newark, New Jersey, on September 8, 1889. His throat had been cut to the bone, and he had been shot three times by a .32 caliber revolver, twice through the heart and once through the upper chest. Avidoir, between 55 and 60 years of age, was a bootblack in Newark, his shoeshine kit lay near the body. He was an Italian immigrant who had been living in New York City but fled two months earlier after stabbing his son-in-law for paying too much attention to Avidoir’s young wife.

Avidois had not been killed where the body was found. There was no sign of a struggle, and no trace of blood on the ground, though the neck wound would have bled profusely. The pistol had been fired at such close range that the shots left powder marks on the body. However, the shirt was not marked. Holes on the shirt corresponded to the bullet wounds, but they appeared to have been punched out of the cloth, and the shirt had no blood stains. Apparently, the shirt had been changed after death.

A money pocket stitched on the inside of the shirt had been torn open implying that robbery had been the motive, but it was hard to imagine such a violent killing over a bootblack’s earnings. The motive and circumstances of the murder remained a mystery, but the Boston Herald had suspicions: “…it might have been a murder ordered by one of the murderous Italian societies, the Maffia, for instance.”

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Sources:
"Another New Jersey Mystery." National Police Gazette 28 Sep 1889.
"Found Murdered." Jersey Journal 9 Sep 1889.
"Mysterious Murder." Boston Herald 9 Sep 1889.

The Elmira Tragedy.

Two boys playing near a bridge at Carr’s Corners outside of Elmira, New York on Sunday, January 6, 1884 found the body of a young woman frozen in the snow under the bridge. The coroner determined that the woman had been murdered, causing a sensation in the small town of Elmira, on New York State’s Southern Tier.

The unidentified woman had been seen in several Elmira beer shops the previous Friday afternoon, accompanied by a young German man. She had displayed a large roll of bank notes and was wearing some distinctive jewelry—a gold watch on a slender gold chain, large old-fashioned gold bracelets, a large ring, earrings with long pendants, and a gold breastpin. Neither the money nor any of the jewelry were found on the body.