Sororcide.

The Murder of Lizzie Anderson

Josie Fay was standing at the corner of Bowker and Sudbury Streets in Boston’s West End, on the evening of January 19, 1880. Stella Vannell approached her and asked if she had seen Ida King. Josie pointed down Bowker Street, where Ida stood talking with a young man named Michael Tolan. Stella walked up to the couple, called out to Ida, and began making disparaging remarks about Tolan. The women exchanged angry words, and the argument escalated until, in a flash, Stella drew a large clasp-knife and plunged it into Ida’s breast. Both women were drunk at the time of the incident, and both were using assumed names. In fact, they were sisters, Maggie and Lizzie Anderson.

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.

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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.

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.

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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.

Affairs in Norwich.

On the morning of March 22, 1881, 60-year-old Alby C. Thompson was found in the Thames Hotel on Market Street in Norwich, Connecticut, suffering from a “paralytic fit.” It was a bad part of town, known for crime and prostitution, and it was assumed that Thompson was the victim of a robbery. He was taken to his home.

Three days later, blood oozed from his ears, and doctors discovered that Thompson had a fractured skull. He died soon after. 

The proprietor of the Thames Hotel, Daniel Delanoy, told police that Thompson had fallen down a staircase while intoxicated. A coroner’s jury disputed this account and, after hearing testimony from other residents of the hotel, concluded that Thompson came to his death from injuries received at the hands of Delanoy’s wife, Julia.

The Prince Street Murder.

 

Bertha Levy entered the house at 111 Prince Street, Manhattan, just before 10:00 a.m. on January 18, 1880. She was a hairdresser, and she had an appointment with Annie Downey, who lived on the second floor. No one responded to her knocks, and the door was locked. The owner of the house did not have a key to the room. Fearing the worst, they summoned the police; the Eighth Precinct Station House was less than a block away.

Officer Sweeny and Sergeant McNally broke the door open and found Annie Downey’s lifeless body lying prostrate on the blood-soaked bed. A pillowcase was tightly bound around her throat. Her left arm was bent, and her fingers were clutching the pillowcase. Ugly gashes on her forehead and bruises marred her face.

Ann and John.

Mrs. Ann E. Freese ran a brothel in a section of Rutland, Vermont, known as the “Swamp.” On June 9, 1874, the house burned to the ground. Amid the rubble was the body of Mrs. Freese, badly burned but recognizable. She had been stabbed several times in the throat before the fire started. The investigation proved daunting with so many anonymous men coming and going from the house, but one man stood out. John Phair, a known associate of Freese, left town around the time of the fire. When he was identified as the man who pawned her jewelry in several Boston pawnshops, Phair was arrested. He was convicted of first-degree murder and hanged in 1879, professing innocence to the end.

Read the full story here: Fire in the Swamp.

Maria Bickford.

Maria Bickford, a beautiful young prostitute, was found murdered in her room in Boston’s Beacon Hill. Her throat was slashed from ear to ear and her bed had been set on fire. 

Read the full story here: The Sleepwalking Defense.

Murderous Assault.

Nettie Brown (or Braun) kept a house of ill-fame in St. Louis with her partner and bartender George Hobbs (or Haubs). In 1877, Lizzie Fields was one of their girls. Lizzie and Nettie had been as close as sisters at first, but they were bitter enemies by April. Lizzie gave Nettie a ring of hers for safekeeping; the trouble began when Lizzie saw her ring on the finger of George Hobbs. After a heated argument, they threw Lizzie out of the house, keeping her clothes and the ring.

Lizzie Fields took up residence in a nearby brothel run by Gussie Freeman. On April 3, 1877, Hobbs was walking down the alley near Freeman’s house when Lizzie began shouting vile names at him through an open window. Hobbs paid no attention at the time, but later, he and Nettie went back to Freeman’s to see her. Lizzie taunted them again from the window, and Hobbs picked up a rock and threw it at her. He missed Lizzie but broke the window and tore the curtain.

They went to the door, but Gussie would not let them in. Hobbs explained that he wanted to pay for the window he had just broken, so Gussie opened the door. As they argued over how much the repairs would cost, Nettie rushed in and found Lizzie in the front room. Nettie pulled a butcher knife from her sleeve. Lizzie was holding a soda bottle and was ready to use it as a weapon. Accounts differ as to what Hobbs did next; he either tried to separate the women or held Lizzie’s wrist so Nettie could strike. In either case, Nettie plunged the butcher knife into Lizzie’s chest twice. Then, she and Hobbs ran from the house.

Gussie Freeman sent a messenger to fetch a doctor, and others ran from the house following Nettie and Hobbs. The police arrested the couple soon after. Lizzie held on to life until May 15. The cause of death was a secondary hemorrhage brought on by the ulceration of knife wounds. Nettie Brown was charged with first-degree murder and George Hobbs as an accessory.

The trial of Nettie Brown began on February 15, 1878. Her plea was self-defense, claiming that Lizzie threatened her with the soda bottle. Her attorney also asserted that the secondary hemorrhage was brought on by the large dose of morphine Lizzie had taken that day. He claimed she was nearly dead already when the stabbing occurred.

The jury deliberated for twenty-four hours before telling the judge they were hopelessly deadlocked—9 for acquittal, 3 for conviction. The problem was they were given only two choices, acquittal or first-degree murder and Missouri juries were reluctant to send a woman to the gallows.

In May, State’s Attorney Beach wanted to change the charge to second-degree murder. However, the defense insisted that she be tried on the original charge. Beach argued that such a trial would be useless as no jury would convict a woman of murder in the first degree. The judge agreed to the new charge and the defense requested a continuance.

The case was continued several more times before being tried in April 1879. Nettie Brown was found guilty of second-degree murder and sent to Jefferson City Penitentiary. George Hobbs case was continued generally, meaning the charges were effectively dismissed unless the state found new evidence.

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Sources: 

“About Town,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, March 6, 1878.
“Arraignments,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, June 9, 1877.
“Criminal Court - Judge Jones,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, October 30, 1878.
“Criminal Notes,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 11, 1879.
“Disagreement of a Jury in a Murder Case,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 20, 1878.
“Four Courts Notes,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, April 11, 1879.
“In the Hands of the Jury,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 18, 1878.
“Life in St. Louis,” St. Louis Post-Dispatch, April 6, 1877.
“Murderous Assault on a Woman,” Illustrated Police News, April 22, 1877.
“Nettie Brown's Case,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, May 16, 1878.
“The News,” Rolla Herald, April 5, 1877.
“Probable Murder,” Evansville Journal, April 4, 1877.
“St. Louis in Splinters,” St, Louis Globe-Democrat, May 4, 1879.
“Stabbed and Killed,” Weekly Globe Democrat, May 24, 1877.
“Trial of Nettie Brown,” St. Louis Globe-Democrat, February 16, 1878.

Who Killed Lottie Morgan?

Hurley, Wisconsin, a tough iron mining town, was the scene of many brutal crimes, but none more startling than the 1890 murder of Lottie Morgan. She was an actress who performed in variety theaters in Hurley and the surrounding area. Though she lived with Johnny Sullivan, a Hurley politician, she was known to have many lovers who kept her supplied with money and jewelry. Her arrangement with Sullivan may have been more about business than romance.

Lottie Morgan was well-known, well-liked, and reportedly one of the prettiest women on the range. Lottie was a prostitute, but newspapers used euphemisms to soften her notoriety—she was a courtesan, a sporting woman, one of the demimondes, of more than doubtful reputation. The Montreal River Mine and Iron County Republican said, “She carried herself with all the propriety possible for her class, was vivacious, sprightly, well informed, and was universally known here and at Ironwood and Bessemer.”

On the morning of April 12, 1890, the mutilated body of Lottie Morgan was found in the filthy alley between two low dives on Hurley’s main drag. She lay in a pool of coagulated blood with a deep gash in the side of her head, about 4 inches long, from the temple back. At her feet was her own 32 caliber revolver. A reporter found a bloodstained axe in a nearby shed, believed to be the murder weapon.

None could find a motive for the murder. Lottie was fully clothed when found and had not been molested. The police ruled out robbery because Lottie was still wearing her diamond earrings and other jewelry, valued at more than $5,000.

One of Lottie’s lovers was an ex-policeman, and some speculated that she was working as a police spy. The criminals who discovered her secret took their revenge.

The police and public favored another, more specific, theory. A recent nighttime robbery at the Hurley Iron Exchange Bank netted the thieves $39,000. Lottie had been subpoenaed to testify at the trial because the bank’s interior could be seen from the window of Lottie’s apartment. The court found Ed Baker and Phelps Perrin guilty of the robbery even without Lottie’s testimony, but they became the prime suspects in her murder.

Lottie Morgan’s elaborate funeral included a beautiful display of flowers and a procession featuring a brass band. The town raised nearly $200 to investigate the crime. A grand jury was convened to uncover the mysterious plot that led to Lottie’s murder.

But nothing was uncovered. In May, the County Board of Supervisors offered a $500 reward for the apprehension of the murders, but nothing came of this either. As time went on, the police and people of Hurley faced newer crimes and Lottie's case went cold. Lottie Morgan’s name disappeared from the newspapers and her unsolved murder was eventually forgotten.

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Sources: 

“All over the State,” Vernon County Censor, April 13, 1892.
“Brained with an Ax,” St Paul daily globe, April 12, 1890.
“Brevities by Wire,” Aberdeen Daily News, April 12, 1890.
“Domestic,” Daily Inter Ocean, April 12, 1890.
“Found Murdered,” Erie Morning Dispatch, April 12, 1890.
“The Hurley Murder,” Bay City Times, April 12, 1890.
“A Hurley Murder,” Duluth News-Tribune, April 12, 1890.
“Lottie Morgan Murdered,” Montreal River Miner and Iron County Republican, April 10, 1890.
“Lottie Morgan's Murder,” Portage Daily Democrat, April 14, 1892.
“Murdering a Woman,” Milwaukee Journal, April 11, 1890.
“News of Wisconsin,” Boscobel Dial, May 26, 1892.
“To Cover a Crime,” Argus-Leader, May 17, 1890.
“Was She an Important Witness?,” Milwaukee Journal, May 14, 1890.
“Who Killed Lottie Morgan?,” Illustrated Police News, April 26, 1890.
“Who Killed Lottie Morgan?,” Detroit Free Press, April 12, 1890.
“Why Lottie was Murdered,” Wisconsin State Journal, May 14, 1890.

The Connell Homicide.

A little past midnight, January 4, 1868, William Connell, age 21, was standing at the corner of Bowery and Bayard Streets, New York City, conversing with Maggie Brown and Emma Gardner, two young women in their teens. Richard Casey came up to them and flourished some bank notes in the faces of the women in an insulting manner, implying that they were prostitutes—which in fact they were. Connell took offense to the action and asked Casey what he meant by it. Casey asked if he was going to defend the women and Connell replied that he was a stranger there but did not like such conduct.

“Well I’m no stranger here,” said Casey, and knocked Connell’s hat off his head.

As Connell stooped to pick up his hat, Casey drew a revolver from a breast pocket and fired at his head. Connell cried out in agony and fell into the gutter; Casey shot him again. Then he pointed the pistol at Maggie Brown and said with a foul epithet, “I’ll finish you too.”

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.

Caught in Bad Company.

Luke Dimick was a successful livery stable keeper in Rock Island, Illinois, and the son of a wealthy Chicago real estate man. To all appearance, Luke seemed like an ideal husband, but he had one fault that his wife could not abide— a fondness for ladies of the night.

The night of July 27, 1889, Mrs. Dimick took her revolver and followed Luke to a Rock Island bawdy house, where she caught him in flagrante delicto with one of the prostitutes. In the scuffle that followed, Mrs. Dimick fired the pistol, hitting her husband. Luke Dimick died two days later and his wife was charged with manslaughter. Luke’s father, O. J. Dimick, took his daughter-in-law’s side and paid a $5,000 bond for her release.

The case went to trial the following October. Mrs. Dimick claimed that she had not intended to kill her husband, she meant to shoot the woman he was with, and Luke interfered. The women of the bawdy house disagreed, saying Mrs. Dimick had deliberately shot her husband. The jury took Mrs. Dimick’s word and found her not guilty.

Originally posted March 5, 2016.

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Sources:
"Among Our Neighbors." Decatur Daily Despatch 14 Sep 1889.
"Court Cullings." Rock Island Daily Argus 28 Sep 1889.
"He Was Caught in Very Bad Company." The Decatur Herald 29 Jul 1889.
"Held for Murder." Decatur Daily Despatch 30 Jul 1889.
"In a Bawdy House." National Police Gazette 5 Oct 1889.
"Telegraphic Brevities." Daily Illinois State Journal 14 Oct 1889.

A Murder Committed Three Years Ago.

(From Baltimore Sun, March 24, 1882)

A Murder Committed Three Years Ago—

A Dying Woman’s Confession

Norfolk, March 23,— About three years ago the dead body of a stranger, on which was found a card with the name “Schweiner” on it, was discovered lying near the river bank, about a mile form Elizabeth  City, N. C. There were no marks of violence upon the body, but it was apparent that he came to his death by foul means. At the coroner’s request it was shown that he had come into town from toward Norfolk, drank beer at several restaurants, and displayed a roll of money. He also stopped at a disreputable house kept by one Hickman, on Poindexter street, where also live a woman named Narcissas Miller. There were various surmises as to the murder. Among others it was whispered that Hickman had something to do with it. It was proved, however, that the murdered man had considerable money with him when he arrived in the town, and there was no money upon the dead body when found. The murdered man had a brother  doing business in Baltimore who was informed of the tragedy. A detective was sent out from Baltimore to work up the case but nothing came of it.

Soon after the murder Hickman settled in Norfolk, and the murder passed away from the minds of men. A few days ago the woman, Narcissas Miller, who accompanied Hickman to Norfolk, being sick and expected to die, made a dying declaration that Schweiner was murdered by Hicmkan in her house, in Elizabeth City.

Kitty Mulcahey.

Kitty Mulcahey

A pistol shot from the churchyard of the Second Presbyterian Church in St. Louis at around 11:45 the night of December 18, 1881, caught the attention of several people who had been outside nearby. Alfred Tonkin, a horse-clipper, was found on the church terrace with a gunshot wound to the abdomen and was rushed to City Hospital. Witnesses said that they had seen a man and a woman run from the scene; the woman had left behind a sealskin cap.

The churchyard and adjoining cemetery were popular spots, even in December, for prostitutes and others engaging in illicit relationships. Before he died, Tonkin told police that he had seen a man and woman acting suspiciously and followed them into the churchyard where he caught them in an “improper act.” As the couple fled, Tonkin tried to stop the woman. He thought it was the man who shot him, but his statements were confused and contradictory, another witness said that it was the woman who fired.

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.

Murderous Shooting in a Bagnio.

Little Murders

(From Cincinnati Commercial Tribune, June 2, 1875)

Murderous Shooting in a Bagnio.

A Girl Attacked with a Pistol.
Case of Jealousy and Revenge

The after-dark sporting fraternity was all agog last night over the report of a shooting of the inmate of a house of ill character on Longworth street. The particulars, shorn of the reportorial dressing up and exciting bristles, are these. Shortly before 10 o’clock last night a young man, well dressed, pulled the door bell of Kate Riley’s house, located on Longworth street. He was admitted by the mistress of the mansion, and shown to a seat in the waiting room, where he asked for Kate’s sister, Marla Riley, with whom the young man was well acquainted. Kate agreed to all Marla down form her room in the third story, and in a few minutes the young woman appeared to greet her guest. She found him, on entering the room, seated by a table, with a strange expression on his face and his hand behind his back. She misconstrued the expression and the attitude, cordially greeted the visitor, and advancing toward him, asked him what he was holding behind him—was it a present for her? The man responded with a menacing speech, presented a pistol, cocked it and fired at the girl, who, surprised and sorely wounded, and wildly shrieking, fled into a side kitchen. She was followed by her assailant, who fired at her again, and after she had thrown herself behind the stove for protection he fired another shot, while in the arms of the poor girl’s sister, endeavoring to restrain the murderer. In the struggle he dropped the pistol, and it is said he snatched it up again and fired at the prostrate and screaming girl the only load remaining in the chambers of the weapon, which was a four barreled Sharp’s pocket pistol.

Officers Sullivan and Daley, on their beat in the vicinity, hearing the shots, rushed to the place and arrested the man. He was taken to the Ninth Street Station and locked up giving there his name as George Wilder. He was recognized as Frank Wilder, a three-card monte man, and a character who has latterly made a living by following shows with trick and gambling apparatuses.

Doctors Freeman and William Judkins were called in to see the wounded girl. It was found that she had been struck by but one of the pistol balls, which entered her abdomen and came out under the skin of the left thigh. Dr. Judkins pronounced the hurt mortal, though Dr. Freeman thought it was not necessarily so.

The girl’s account is, substantially, that she is about twenty-five years of age, and has lived at her sister’s house for some time. She had known Frank Wilder intimately, as she had known a number of other men. She had not seen him for three years, until last Wednesday morning. He spent Monday night at the house in company with the girl, and left in the morning. The next time she saw him was last night when he accosted her with the pistol.

Wilder came here last from Newtown, Ohio. Some time ago, it is said he attacked the girl in Indianapolis, and attempted to shot her. This is one of the old cases, undoubtedly, of jealousy resulting from fast life and bagnio attachments.

At last accounts, the wounded girl was sinking, and it was thought she would die before morning.
Wilder, in his cell at Ninth Street Station, did not seem to regard the affair in a very serious light last night, but he refused to make any statements whatever in regard to it. In reply to interrogations of the arresting officers he said, “Oh, let up, now, I am just as ‘fly’ as any of you, and do not propose to give myself away.” He was perfectly sober when the shooting took place, and it is said was trying to borrow a pistol early in the evening.

After he had been left alone, he undressed and hung up his clothing in his cell with as much ease as if he were resting in a first-class hotel, and soon after laid down on the bench and fell asleep, in which condition he remained at 2 o’clock this morning when our reporter left the Station.

It looks very much like a clear case of premeditated murder, without the usual accompaniment of “emotional insanity.” The prisoner gave his age as twenty sever years, and his is rather genteel in appearance, about five feet seven or eight inches in height.

For a Wanton’s Smile.

Frank Whittaker came to Chicago in September 1892, accompanied by four or five young women from his New York City brothel. He planned to run a similar business in Chicago and set up an establishment in a somewhat weather-beaten version of the gilded palaces in the city’s red light district near the levee.

Around the first of November, Charles Ryan, a tall, silent man with piercing eyes and a small mustache, began to regularly visit Whittaker’s house. Ryan was a gambler, and from the size of his bankroll was a successful one.

One of the girls who followed Whittaker from New York was a capricious and whimsical, black-haired, blue-eyed, beauty named Susie Hess. Ryan fell madly in love with her and within two weeks of his arrival in Chicago, he was begging Susie to leave her wanton life and come live with him. Susie was fickle, and led him on, promising to go with him one day and rescinding the promise the next.

Ryan was in Whittaker’s brothel in the early hours of Sunday, November 14, 1892, and he asked Susie Hess again to come with him. They began to argue loudly, attracting the attention of Frank Whittaker. Whittaker, who had not previously met Ryan, tried to defuse the situation by suggesting that they all have a drink. Ryan said nothing; he pulled a revolver from his pocket, pressed the muzzle against Susie’s right side and fired. He then turned the gun on Whittaker and fired twice. Ryan looked at his victims for an instant, then walked into an adjoining room and shot himself in the head. By dawn all three were dead.

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Sources:

"Chicago Shooting Affray." Kokomo Daily Gazette Tribune 14 Nov 1892.
"For a Wanton's Smile." Le Mars Semi Weekly Sentinel 15 Nov 1892.
"Gave No Warning." Daily Inter Ocean 14 Nov 1892.
"His Fatal Infatuation." National Police Gazette 3 Dec 1892.

Queen of the Demimonde.



Kate Townsend

In the years following the Civil War, Basin Street in New Orleans was the center of the most notorious red-light district in America, and the house at No. 40 Basin Street, run by Miss Kate Townsend, was the most elegant brothel in the country. When she was fatally stabbed in her bedroom in 1883, Kate Townsend’s death was mourned by sporting men from coast to coast, but, in accordance with Miss Kate’s wishes, no man was allowed to attend her funeral.

A Gambler Shot Dead.

Little Murders

 

(From The National Police Gazette , January 13, 1894)

A Gambler Shot Dead.

 

 

City Attorney James Butler shot and killed a gambler known as Seven Up Jim O’leary, at Ada Huntley’s house of ill-fame in St. Louis, Mo. At 4 o’clock the other morning.

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"A Gambler Shot Dead." The National Police Gazette 13 Jan 1894.

The Sleepwalking Defense

The morning of October 27, 1845, the body of Maria Bickford, a beautiful young prostitute, was found murdered in her room in Boston’s Beacon Hill. Her throat had been cut from ear to ear and her bed had been set on fire. The prime suspect was Albert Tirrell who had been keeping Maria and who was seen arguing with her the day before. Tirrell was represented in court by prominent attorney and former US Senator, Rufus Choate, who used a three pronged defense: Maybe Maria Bickford had cut her own throat, maybe someone else killed her, or maybe Albert Tirrell killed her while sleepwalking and was not responsible for his actions.