Maggie Crowley, Found Strangled.

Maggie Crowley
(New York American, March 16, 1898)

Robert Hoey, coming home from work in the early hours of March 15, 1898, literally tripped over the body of a dead woman in the courtyard of his New York City tenement. The woman had been strangled to death and dragged to the courtyard known in the neighborhood as “Hogan’s Alley.” Four days later, she was identified as Maggie Crowley, a young woman with a drinking problem. Four men were suspected, two were indicted, but no one was convicted.

Read the full story here: Murder Told in Pictures.

Frederick F. Streeter.

About half past three, the morning of July 2, 1863, a young man on his way to work in Medina, Ohio, saw the home of Shubal Coy in flames. He alerted the neighbors, who came out to douse the flames with water. When the fire was under control, they went inside to look for the Coy family. They found Shubal lying in bed with nine stab wounds in his throat and breast, any one of them capable of producing death. His wife lay on the floor, with her throat cut. She had fought with her attacker and had twenty-four cuts on her head and body. Their seven-year-old son Ferdinand lay in bed with his throat cut. Mercifully, it appeared he was murdered in his sleep.

Shubal Coy was a 40-year-old livestock dealer who had cashed a $1,200 check the day before, planning to buy some sheep. Those who knew him told police that Coy slept with his money under his pillow for safekeeping. The money was gone. 

The police investigated the scene in the daylight but found little evidence. Handprints on a fence next to the property first made them think there were two killers, but the source turned out to be neighbors wiping the blood from their hands after moving the bodies. The murders had been well planned, and the killer had left no trace inside the house. He set the fire to hide the murders, and had it been allowed to burn another fifteen minutes, he may have succeeded. On the ground outside the house, the police found an empty envelope that had contained the money. There was blood on the edge where the envelope had been torn open.

The Coy Family Home (Elite Studio postcard)

The Coys had been out visiting friends until about 10:00 the night before. Ferdinand had asked if one of his playmates could sleep over, but his  mother said no because the hour was late. Had he slept over, there would be a fourth victim.

The door was locked, and the neighbors had to break into the house. They believed that the killer entered the house while the family was out and hid inside until they had gone to bed.

The community was outraged by the crime, and with so little to go on, the County Commissioners offered a $1,000 reward for information leading to an arrest. Several days later, they raised the reward to $4,000, with $500 paid in advance to detectives.

Suspicion fell on a man who called himself Captain Frederick F. Streeter. He came to Medina to set up a recruiting office for the Ohio Volunteer Infantry to fight in the Civil War. Streeter had enlisted in Berdan’s Sharpshooters in Vermont’s 1st regiment, but he never advanced beyond corporal. He became dissatisfied and deserted, returning to his home in Bellow’s Falls, Vermont. Allegedly, he attempted to set fire to his house there and burn his wife and son alive before fleeing to Ohio.

After his recruitment office in Medina failed, Streeter had no visible means of support. He married a 16-year-old girl, Miss Whitmore, who came from a prominent Medina family. Streeter was having trouble meeting his bills and borrowed money from his father-in-law and others. Streeter’s wife was a close friend of Mrs. Coy and had frequently taken Frederick to her house.

Streeter claimed that he was in Cleveland when the murder occurred. He said he won a large sum of money gambling and returned the day after the murder, wearing new clothes. He repaid his debts and spent freely in Medina. Soon after, he and his wife started on a trip west.

The Prosecuting Attorney of Medina, Mr. S. B. Woodward, along with Detective Burlison of Akron, tracked the Streeters on their journey west. They first stopped at Woodstock, Illinois, and stayed with a cousin of Mrs. Streeter. They spent lavishly and stayed at first-class hotels in Milwaukee, Chicago, and Springfield, then on to Kenosha, Wisconsin, where her uncle lived. In Kenosha, they bought tickets to Boston, but Woodward and Burlison caught up before they could use them. Streeter claimed to have no knowledge of the murder but did not fight when they took him back to Medina.

When arrested, Streeter had $64 in greenbacks in his pocket, including two $20 bills with blood on their edges. The bloodstains exactly matched those on the torn end of the envelope found at the crime scene. This fact, combined with Streeter’s incomplete and often inconsistent explanation of how and when he obtained the money, was sufficient to charge him with the first-degree murder of the Coy family.

The Wooster Republican described Frederick Streeter as 

“…a man of small stature, thin face, rather light hair, a low forehead, a fiery, piercing, snaky eye, and a long, slim neck. He is a man of small understanding, much ostentation, a man unaccustomed to work and fond of dress, a fop and a dandy.” 

Frederick F. Streeter 

The courtroom was packed when his trial began that December. At one point there were so many standing in the room that the floor gave way. Streeter sat in court with cool indifference throughout his trial. The jury deliberated for ten hours before returning a verdict of guilty of murder in the first degree. When Judge Burke asked Streeter if he had anything to say as to why sentence should not be pronounced upon, him he replied, “My counsel have done all for me that could be done, yet I protest I am an innocent man and time, I think, will develop it.”

The judge then reviewed the case, and while speaking of the innocent sleeping boy murdered that night, the prisoner closed his eyes, and trembling, became faint and sank into his chair. Judge Burke sentenced Streeter to be hanged on February 26, 1864. He admonished Streeter to repent his sins, and make peace with his God and closed with the sentence. “may God have mercy on your soul.”

Streeter was restless while confined in the Medina County Jail awaiting execution. Someone had passed tools through his cell window, and he attempted to dig through the ceiling and walls of his cell. On December 24, he succeeded.

The jail was built with apartments for the jailer’s family at one end and cells at the other, surrounded by a hall, six feet wide. Streeter dug a hole through the wall to an adjoining cell he knew to be unoccupied and unlocked. He climbed through the hole and waited until the jailer’s son came into the hall to build a fire in the stove there. The boy left the door unlocked, and Streeter slipped out unseen. He went upstairs to the floor above, waited until dark, and jumped out a window to freedom.

Before leaving town, Streeter stopped at his father-in-law’s house and slipped a note to his wife under the door. He wished her merry Christmas, and asked her to remain true to him, assuring her they would again live happily together.

The people of Medina were outraged that the murderer was on the loose. The Cincinnati Daily Commercial reported, “We notice, posted about the city, an offer of one thousand dollars reward for the apprehension of the demon in human shape, Frederick F. Streeter.” The reward was raised to $4,000, and a statewide manhunt commenced. 

Streeter was recaptured on December 30 in Richfield, Ohio, 24 miles from Medina. Two men of that town staked out the home of Hiram Hart, who they knew was a cousin of Streeter. They found him in Hart’s barn, and he surrendered without a fight. Streeter was taken back to the Medina jail, this time secured in his cell by chains.

Still trying to avoid his fate, Streeter feigned insanity. He then attempted to starve himself, making him susceptible to disease. By the day of his execution, he weighed less than 100 pounds and was too weak to walk alone. Before the hanging, interested parties were allowed to meet with Streeter. When the father of Mrs. Coy came to him, Streeter said, “As true as there is a God in heaven, I never murdered your daughter.”

A tall wooden fence was erected in the yard where the gallows stood. A crowd of over 15,000 people who came to witness the hanging tore down the fence and burned it. Guards prevented the mob from storming the gallows.

Streeter had to be carried to the gallows by the sheriff’s men. He could not stand, so they placed him in a chair over the trapdoor. His last words were, “The crime for which I am about to die I am entirely innocent of. May God forgive those who have wronged me.”

“He sat down,” said The Toledo Blade, “his arms were pinioned, the cap was drawn over his face, and he was moved to the fatal trap, still sitting in his chair.—But the final moments came at last; a movement of the lever and the trap flew from under him, and Frederick F. Steeter, the convicted treble murderer, was no more.”

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Sources: 

The Arrest and Trial of Frederick F. Streeter. (Medina: Gazette Print, 1864.) 

“Arrest of the Supposed Medina Murderer,” Cleveland Plain Dealer, September 16, 1863.
“Arrest of the Supposed Medina Murderer,” Portage County Democrat, September 16, 1863.
“Arrest of the Supposed Murder of the Coy Family,” Toledo Blade, September 21, 1863.
“Bound Over,” Cleveland morning leader, September 12, 1863.
“Escape of Streeter,” Cleveland morning leader, December 28, 1863.
“Escape of a Murder,” Cincinnati Daily Commercial, December 29, 1863.
“Escaped from Jail,” Plain Dealer, December 26, 1863.
“Execution of Streeter,” Toledo Blade, February 27, 1864.
“Execution of Streeter, the Medina Murderer,” Cadiz Democratic Sentinel., March 9, 1864.
“Frederick F Streeter,” Delaware gazette., March 4, 1864.
 Frederick F. Streeter - They Expect Wonders of Us 

 FREDERICK STREETER Gravesite - medinacountygraves.com  

“Horrible Murder in Ohio,” Louisville Daily Democrat., July 5, 1863.
“Horrible Tragedy,” Evening Post, July 8, 1863.
“The Late Murders in Medina,” Cleveland Morning Leader, July 6, 1863.
“The Medina Murder Case,” Cleveland Morning Leader, December 4, 1863.
“The Medina Murders,” Wooster Republican, July 16, 1863.
“The Medina Tragedy,” Cleveland Morning Leader, July 9, 1863.
“The Medina Tragedy,” Toledo Blade, December 2, 1863.
“A Murder Foretold in a Dream,” Evening Post, July 10, 1863.
“The Murder of the Coy Family,” Cleveland Morning Leader, September 14, 1863.
“Murder Trial in Medina,” Cleveland Morning Leader, November 24, 1863.
“Murder Will Out,” Portage County Democrat, January 6, 1864.
“The Murderer of the Coy Family Escaped from Prison,” Daily Ohio Statesman, December 29, 1863.
“Obituary,” Plain Dealer, July 18, 1863.
“Reward Offered,” Cleveland morning leader., July 8, 1863.
“Robbery and Murder in Medina County,” Toledo Blade, July 3, 1863.
“Shocking Event in Medina,” Cincinnati Daily Commercial, July 4, 1863.
“Trial Of Streeter, For the Murder of the Coy Family,” Wooster Republican, December 10, 1863.

Medford's Murder Mystery.

(Boston Post, March 29, 1897,)

Walter R. Debbins was shot twice in the back, in broad daylight, on Highland Street in Medford, Massachusetts, on the afternoon of Saturday, March 27, 1897. Though no one saw the murder or heard the gunshots, there was enough traffic on Highland Street that afternoon for the police to precisely pinpoint the time of the shooting to between 1:00 and 1:05. But that was all they could pinpoint; everything else about the crime was shrouded in mystery that grew more dense with each new revelation.

 

Read the full story here: The Medford Mystery.

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.

The Andersons emigrated to America from Limerick, Ireland, when Lizzie was five years old and Maggie was seven. Each of their parents, John and Helen, had been married before, and each had a son from the previous marriage.  The family settled in Holyoke, Massachusetts, where John worked as a laborer. As soon as they were able, both girls were put to work at a textile mill. 

Maggie Anderson

At an early age, Maggie became wild and hard to control. She was arrested for larceny and spent two years in a workhouse. Shortly after her return, Maggie had a quarrel with her mother during which she pushed her down a flight of stairs. Helen never fully recovered from the fall and died soon after. John returned to Ireland, leaving the house in the charge of the two stepbrothers. Maggie could not stay out of trouble and spent another two years in Bridgewater Prison. Upon her release, she moved to Boston.

Lizzie was quiet and possessed an even temper, but had intemperate habits and a fondness for the company of men. When Lizzie got into trouble, the brothers refused to put up with her and sent her out of the house. She went to Boston and moved in with her sister.

Shortly after her arrival in Boston, Lizzie was arrested for drunkenness and spent thirty days in jail. She was arrested again, for night-walking, which, in Massachusetts, referred to soliciting prostitution on the streets. She served several terms at Sherburn Prison. At one time, both Lizzie and Maggie were serving time in Sherburn. One day, the matron told Lizzie to wash the floor, and she refused, saying she was too tired. The matron was about to lay violent hands on Lizzie when Maggie came by and commenced to beat the matron. Lizzie joined in, and both sisters were put in solitary confinement, where they spent the remainder of their sentences.

In Boston, the sisters lived together peacefully for a time, but Maggie began associating with black men, and Lizzie disapproved. When Maggie married a black man named Vannell, Lizzie moved out. Their relationship became so contentious that Lizzie would scarcely recognize her sister on the street. After moving out of her sister’s apartment, Lizzie took up residence in a house of ill-fame on Bowker Street and went by the name Ida King. 

After the stabbing on January 19, Maggie dropped the knife and ran from the scene. Josie Fay, who witnessed the crime, ran for a doctor. A police officer arrived first and asked Lizzie several times, “Do you know who stabbed you?”

Lizzie rolled in pain. “Let me alone,” were the last words she said. The Medical Examiner arrived and ordered her body be taken to the morgue. Tolan, who had tried to interfere, was badly cut about the head and hands. He had to be carried to the police station, but his wounds were not fatal.

Maggie was apprehended soon after, drinking at Doc Young’s saloon on Sudbury Street. The bartender said Maggie had been drinking there earlier in the evening and had become so boisterous that he had to shut her up. He said she left the saloon with the knife in her hand, saying she was going to put it into her sister before the evening was out.

At the police station, Maggie gave her version of the story. She said she was looking for her sister and wanted to tell her that the man she was with was no good. 

“You see, sir,” she said, “my sister had been drinking; she was pretty full, and I did not want her to go with him at all, because I did not like the looks of him.”

She said she called Tolan a dirty pimp, and he rushed at her with a knife. Lizzie jumped between them and was stabbed. Maggie twisted the knife from his hand, cutting her hands in the process, then aimed a blow at him.

“I know I must have stabbed him somewhere,” she said,  “but I know I did not cut my sister; I would not do it for the world…I love her very much, because she is all the relation I have in the world that I care for, and  I would not do anything to harm her.”

Maggie was arraigned on January 21 for the murder of her sister. She pleaded not guilty. When the case went before the Supreme Judicial Court on May 7, she changed her plea to guilty of manslaughter, which the court accepted. Sheriff Clark testified that since her arrest, Maggie expressed a great deal of grief for the loss of her sister. The judge sentenced her to three years of hard labor in the Suffolk County House of Correction.

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Sources: 

“Another Murder at Boston,” New Haven Evening Register, January 20, 1880.
“The Hawkins Street Murder,” The Boston Globe, May 7, 1880.
“Horrible Harlotry,” Illustrated Police News, January 31, 1880.
“Killed Her Sister,” The Washington Post, January 20, 1880.
“Margaret Anderson,” The Boston Globe, January 20, 1880.
“Margaret Anderson,” The Boston Globe, January 21, 1880.
“Murder,” The Boston Globe, January 20, 1880.
“Sororicide,” Buffalo Weekly Courier, January 28, 1880.

Harry and Catherine.

 

Harry and Catherine.
(Harry Hayward: Life, crimes, dying confession and execution of the Celebrated Minneapolis Criminal.)

Harry Hayward was a handsome young conman from a wealthy Minneapolis family. He persuaded Catherine Ging to make him beneficiary on a life insurance policy, then, on December 3, 1894, he lured her to her death. 

Read the full story here: The Minneapolis Svengali.

A Murder on Ice.

A group of young boys from Lambertville, New Jersey, went skating on Island Creek on December 15, 1880. They brought their lunches and, when they sat down to eat, they built a fire on the ice to keep warm. John Pierman, an older boy (age reported variously as 15, 16, or 18) with another group, came upon them and started kicking the burning wood around the ice. Theodore Parker, aged 13 or 14, told Pierman to stop. An argument ensued and words led to blows. When Parker struck Pierman in the face, breaking his pipe, Pierman pulled out a knife and plunged it into Parker’s left breast, piercing his heart.

As Parker fell, Pierman immediately ran over the ice toward Pennsylvania. Parker died two or three minutes later. The rest of the boys ran after Pierman, hoping to catch him and bring him back. They followed him for several miles until they lost sight of him in Deer Park, Pennsylvania. All but four of the boys turned back.

Someone in Centerville saw Pierman go into a barn, and the boys found him there, hiding in a hay mow. He surrendered peacefully, handing over the knife, a shoemaker’s knife with a two and a half inch blade. They did not tell him that Parker was dead.

Pierman was taken to the Fleminton Jail. The following morning, he learned that he had killed Parker, and he broke down in tears. He confessed to the murder and added that his father had advised him to use a knife or a brickbat whenever he got into a quarrel.

Theodore Parker’s funeral drew a large crowd. The Boozer Cadets, a boys’ drill team (founded by J. Fennemore Boozer) of which Parker was a member, turned out in full force.

John Pierman was held until the following April, when the Hunterdon County Court of Oyer and Terminer convened. He entered a plea of non vult to manslaughter—a “no contest” plea, accepting the court’s judgment without admitting guilt, thus avoiding a jury trial. Pierman had a reputation for being reckless and good-for-nothing; he never attended school and was allowed to roam at large. Dr. John W. Ward testified that Pierman’s mental development was of a very low order as a result of improper training by his parents. His counsel made a plea for judicial clemency, and the court sentenced Pierman to the State Prison for a term of five years.

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Sources: 

“A Boy Murdered,” Lambertville record. [volume], December 15, 1880.

“A Boy of Thirteen Murdered by A Youth of Eighteen,” Philadelphia Inquirer, December 16, 1880.
“The Boy Murderer,” The New York Herald, December 17, 1880.
History of West Amwell 

“Killed on the Ice,” New York Herald, December 16, 1880.
“Local Affairs,” Lambertville record, December 22, 1880.
“Murder on Ice,” Illustrated Police News, January 1, 1881.
“News Article,” Lambertville record, February 9, 1881.
“Terrible Tragedy at Lambertville,” Daily State Gazette, December 16, 1880.
“A Young Murderer Sentenced,” Evening Post., April 21, 1881.

Clara and Daniel.

 

("On Trial for Murder," Daily Inter Ocean, November 27, 1895.)

During a time of conflict between the Shanks family and the Keller family in rural Indiana, the body of 18-year-old Clara Shanks was found floating in Wolf Creek. Circumstantial evidence pointed to Daniel Keller, who had a clandestine romance with Clara.

Read the full story here: The Wolf Creek Tragedy.

So far From Home: The Pearl Bryan Murder.

 So far From Home: The Pearl Bryan Murder - Amazon, Audible.

Who Killed Carrie Farrel?

Mrs. Carrie Farrel left her home in Sibley, Iowa, at 7:00 a.m. on May 6, 1889. She went on horseback to visit her parents, who lived about two miles away. When she didn’t return that night, her husband thought nothing strange of her absence. It was not unusual for Carrie to spend the night with her parents. But when her horse returned home riderless the following morning, her husband became alarmed and began searching for her.

He found his wife’s lifeless body lying in a pool of water. On the left side of her face, just below the eye, was a deep scar, indicating a sudden and powerful blow administered by a strong man. He found other bruises around her face and shoulders. On the ground, forty rods away, was a basket of eggs, unharmed, which was taken as another indication of foul play.

Carrie’s parents said she had left their house at 6:00 the previous evening. She took a diagonal course across the field to the main road. This route took her to a seldom-frequented bridge over a slough. In her left hand, she carried a basket of eggs. Although Carrie Farrel had no known enemies, her death was assumed to be a murder. She was highly respected in her neighborhood, and “woe be to the suspected murderer.”

This story was picked up by the Associated Press, and versions of it appeared in papers throughout the country under headlines such as: “A Mysterious Murder,” “Evidence of Foul Play,” “Murdered on a Road,” and “Who Killed Mrs. Carrie Farrel?” However, back in Iowa, the Davenport Democrat Gazette reported that the relatives of Mrs. Carrie Farrel were so well satisfied that death came from being thrown from her horse that no inquest was held. “The story sent out by the Associated Press was highly sensational and wide of the truth.”

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Sources: 

“All Around Iowa,” Davenport Democrat Gazette, May 11, 1889.
“Evidence of Foul Play,” Daily Arkansas Gazette, May 9, 1889.
“Murdered on a Road,” Manhattan Mercury, May 15, 1889.
“Mysterious Murder,” St. Paul daily globe., May 8, 1889.
“A Mysterious Murder,” The Minneapolis Journal, May 8, 1889.
“Who Killed Mrs. Carrie Farrel,” National Police Gazette, June 1, 1889.

James and Sarah Jane.

 

James E. Eldredge and Sarah Jane Gould.
(The Trial of James E Eldredge )

James E. Eldredge left his home in Canton, New York in the spring of 1856. He returned six months later with a new name and a duplicitous personality to match. All those around him soon learned to distrust anything the young man said—all except his fiancé, Sarah Jane Gould. She remained trusting to the end, when Eldredge poisoned Sarah Jane to pursue her younger sister.

Read the full story here: James E. Eldredge.

Asked His Wife to Shoot Him.

Lourens Signourette and his wife lived near Foster’s Bar, a remote camp in the Yubas Foot Hills in California. Lourens had been ailing for quite a while, and on December 1, 1891, he decided to end his life by taking strychnine. The poison did not have the immediate effect that he wanted, so he asked his wife to get his shotgun and shoot him.

She honored his request but had trouble getting the gun to work. When she finally fired, the shot did not kill her husband. He then told her to pile brush over him and set it on fire to burn him to death. This she refused to do. Instead, she walked some distance to a cabin occupied by a man named George and asked him to help burn her husband. George also refused, and he notified a constable about the situation. When they all returned to the Signourettes’ cabin, they found Lourens dead.

The constable arrested Mrs. Signourette. She told the police about Lourens taking strychnine and his request to be shot. She justified her action by saying that she promised to obey him when they were married. The County Coroner announced that he and a physician would travel to Foster’s Bar, where the body of Lourens Signourette would be exhumed and autopsied. If the facts were not as Mrs. Signourette related, she would be charged with murder.

While this story was published in newspapers across the country, the details, even in California papers, were very sparse. None of the stories included Mrs. Signourette’s first name, George’s last name, or the results of the autopsy (and the picture is not accurate). It is probably safe to assume that the coroner was satisfied with the outcome and dropped the matter.

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Sources: 

“Accommodated with a Killing,” Illustrated Police News, January 2, 1892.
“Announcements,” Mayfield Weekly Monitor, December 16, 1891.
“The Coroner Will Investigate,” Sacremento Daily Union, December 10, 1891.
“He Said Shoot and She Shot,” Trenton Times., December 9, 1891.
“Likely Died Happy,” Daily Inter Ocean, December 8, 1891.
“She Complied with the Request,” Helena independent, December 8, 1891.

The Late Mr. Benjamin Nathan.

Harper's Weekly, August 20, 1870.

Benjamin Nathan, a wealthy stockbroker and philanthropist, was found brutally beaten to death in his Manhattan home the morning of July 29, 1870. Some jewelry and a small amount of cash were stolen, and the police were quick to rule the incident a burglary gone bad. But if so, how and when did the burglars enter? And how could four others staying in the house sleep through the violent attack? In fact, the Nathan murder looked more like a classic locked-room mystery—a mystery that remains unsolved.

Read the full story here:

Who Killed Benjamin Nathan?

The Crosby Street Murder.

At around 6:30, the morning of February 4, 1877, the residents of Crosby Street in New York City were alarmed by a woman’s shriek. Many were preparing for church that Sunday morning, and from their windows, they watched the woman, barefoot, wearing just a skirt and a thin chemise, run across the street, pursued by a man wielding what appeared to be a long iron spike. She ran to the house at 52 Crosby Street, screaming, “Open the door; for the blessed Virgin’s sake, open the door.”

As the man reached the doorstep, she turned and said to him, “For God’s sake, James, don’t strike me!”

He plunged the weapon into her breast. She fell to her knees, then tried to rise but fell backwards onto the sidewalk. The man quickly ran up to Spring Street and disappeared. A second man started running toward the Bowery and was intercepted by a policeman who took him into custody and held him as a witness. Two more policemen carried the woman in a stretcher to the Mulberry Street station, where she died.

Tinsmith's Reamer

The weapon was a tinsmith’s reamer, an iron tool for cutting holes in block tin. It was about a foot long, pointed at the end with a square blade, and a little iron crossbar welded to the shank. The killer left it behind—in some accounts, he left it stuck in her chest.

From officers’ reports and eyewitness accounts, the police were able to identify the killer as James Flood, a tinsmith.  They reconstructed the sequence of events leading to the murder. Around midnight, the night before the murder, Officer Corry saw Flood standing in front of a grocery shop on Crosby Street owned by a German man named William Alfka. Flood said his wife, Mary, was in the shop, “criminally intimate” with Alfka, and he wanted Corry to bring her out. Corry told him there was nothing he could do, so Flood left.

Flood went to the Bowery and met up with Joseph Morrison, the witness who would be arrested at the scene of the murder. They went on a spree, going from saloon to saloon, drinking all night. Early in the morning, they were back in the alley behind Alfka’s store, though Morrison didn’t know why. Flood went into a hall outside Alfka’s bedroom in the rear of the shop and tried to break into the locked bedroom door.  When Mary heard him, she hastily put on her skirt and ran, barefoot, out the other door, through the front of the shop, into the street. Alfka hid the rest of her clothing under his mattress.

Flood went back outside and chased Mary across the street. She ran to the door of 52 Crosby, where she and Flood had previously lived together. The door was locked, and no one came to open it. Flood caught her on the front steps and killed her, then fled.

The police took Alfka into custody to guarantee he would appear at the coroner’s inquest. James Flood had gone to Brooklyn and remained at large until Tuesday night. He didn’t realize he had killed Mary until he read it in the newspaper. When he learned that the police were looking for him, he turned himself in at the Fourth Precinct Station in Brooklyn.

The inquest was held on Friday, February 9. A coroner’s jury heard the testimony and charged James Flood with first-degree murder. Joseph Morrison was charged as an accomplice. Both were held without bail, awaiting the Grand Jury.

While the suspects were in custody, the police learned more about James and Mary Flood. His real name was James McFarland. He changed it to Flood, his mother’s maiden name, when he fled a murder charge in Toledo, Ohio. He met and fell in love with Mary Beach in Toledo. Both were in their twenties and born in Ireland. But he was not the only man in love with Mary, and James stabbed and killed his rival in a street fight. 

James changed his name and fled with Mary to New York City, where they rented a room at 52 Crosby Street. But things did not go well; his work took him out of town for months at a time, leaving Mary with no income. When he was home, James would drink excessively and ill-treat Mary. During his absences, Mary became intimate with William Alfka, the grocer across the street. Finally, James and Mary separated, and each found different lodgings off Crosby Street. Wracked with jealousy, James kept watch on Mary’s activities.

James Flood was indicted for first-degree murder, and Joseph Morrison was released. At his trial in June 1877, Flood was represented by William Howe of Howe and Hummel, the city’s most successful criminal attorneys. Howe did not win an acquittal but managed to save Flood’s life. The jury found him guilty of second-degree murder. During the sentencing, Judge Sutherland expressed his disapproval with the verdict, saying:

Flood, you ought to be full of gratitude to the jury. You have had a lucky escape. Had not the jury the right to determine from the evidence in the case, from your prowling around that grocery store and telling the policeman that you thought your wife was in there with Alfka, that you formed a premeditated design to kill.  I repeat, you ought to be thankful to the jury for treating you so mercifully, and no man ever had a fairer trial. The sentence of the Court is that you be confined in State Prison for the term of your natural life. 

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Sources: 

“An Escape from the Gallows,” New York Herald, July 1, 1877.
“The Antecedents of James Flood,” Chicago Daily News, February 12, 1877.
“Brutal Wife-Murder,” Chicago Daily Tribune, February 5, 1877.
“Crimes and Casualties,” Worcester Daily Press, February 5, 1877.
“Crime's Darkest Phases,” New-York Tribune, February 5, 1877.
“The Crosby Street Murder,” Evening Post, February 9, 1877.
“The Crosby Street Murder,” Evening Post., February 12, 1877.
“Flood, The Wife-Murderer,” Sunday Mercury, February 11, 1877.
“James Flood Surrenders Himself,” New-York Tribune, February 7, 1877.
“The Murder of Mrs. Flood,” New-York Tribune., February 10, 1877.
“Murdered for her Fault,” sun., February 5, 1877.
“Murdered For Her Fault,” Illustrated Police News, February 17, 1877.
“The "Reamer" Murder,” New York herald., February 7, 1877.
“The "Reamer" Murder,” New York herald., February 8, 1877.
“Slain in the Street,” New York herald., February 5, 1877.
“Summary of Law Cases,” New York herald., February 15, 1877.

Frank and Christie.

Frank Almy and Christie Warden.
(Life, Trial, and Confession of Frank C. Almy, Laconia, N.H.: J.J. Lane, 1891.)

While working as a farmhand in Hanover, New Hampshire, career criminal Frank Almy (aka George Abbott) fell in love with the farmer’s daughter, Christie Warden. When Christie did not return his love Abbot went back to his old ways and took it at gunpoint in the shady hollow known as the Vale of Tempe.

Read the full story here: Murder in the Vale of Tempe.

Murderous Christmas Celebrations.

Murder never pauses for Christmas; it is all too often an unwelcome guest at Yuletide parties.

Here are a few murderous nineteenth-century American Christmas "celebrations." 

	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.
	It was Santa Claus' Fault. On Christmas Eve, 1889, chaos ensued at a  Shawneetown, Illinois, Christmas party, when the tags fell off some of the presents and were replaced haphazardly.  The room erupted into a free fight with chairs, clubs, knives, and pistols. it looked as though several combatants would be killed, but none of the wounds proved fatal. A Christmas miracle.
	Mrs. Southern's Sad Case. At a Pickens County, Georgia Christmas party in 1876, Kate Southern warned her husband not to dance with his mistress, Narcissa Cowan, and she warned Narcissa to stay away from her husband. When they danced together anyway Kate borrowed her father's pocketknife and plunged it into Narcissa's chest.
	That Bad Man Stagolee. Troubadours have sung the story of Stagolee for over a hundred years. Each singer seems to know a different version and tell a different story of its origin. But the story is true. The legend was born when Stack Lee Shelton shot Billy Lyons, in a fight over a Stetson hat, in Bill Curtis's Saloon, on Christmas night 1895.
	Delia's Gone, One More Round. On Christmas Eve 1900, Cooney Houston shot and killed Delia Green. If that isn’t tragic enough, they were both 14 years old. Their sad story would have been long forgotten, even in Yamacraw – the black neighborhood in the western end of Savannah, Georgia, where the killing took place – if it hadn’t been for a song. The ballad of Delia’s murder traveled from Georgia to the Bahamas, then back to the States during the folk boom of the 1950s.

The Just End of a Monster of Iniquity.

 

Dr. Thomas Neill Cream, “The Lambeth Poisoner” and possible Jack the Ripper suspect, was hanged at Newgate Prison in London on November 15, 1892. Dr. Cream had already been convicted of murder by strychnine in the United States. In fact, if he had not been released early from Chicago’s Joliet Prison, four young London women would have been spared excruciating death. 

Read the full story here:  The Lambeth Poisoner.

The Knife in Boston.

On the afternoon of November 27, 1874, Aaron P Barnes went, with his business assistant, John W. Ganie, to a lodging house Barnes owned on Gouch Street in Boston. One of the lodgers had left, and they wanted to ensure the room was ready for the next tenant. They went upstairs and found three young ruffians, somewhat intoxicated, lounging in the furnished but otherwise vacated room.

The men, Richard Nealon, James McCall, and George Watson (alias Jeremiah Cummings), appeared ready for a permanent stay. Barnes told them to leave, and they refused. An argument ensued.

McCall stepped up and said, “Shut your mouth; I’ll shoot you.”

This fired Ganie’s wrath, and he proposed to his boss that they “go for them.” Instead, Barnes told him to go and fetch a police officer. Gaine went to the 3rd Police Stationhouse. The officer in charge heard his story but decided that, as the men had performed no act of actual violence, he had no jurisdiction in the matter. 

While Ganie was gone, Nealon and McCall left the building. They saw Ganie returning on the other side of the street, so they crossed over. Nealon confronted Ganie and struck a heavy blow to his face. A fierce struggle ensued, and Ganie drew a large sheath knife and plunged it into Nealon’s chest. He dropped the weapon and fled into the house.

Officer Thomas Lynch, who was in the vicinity, not in uniform, witnessed the fight instigated by Nealon, but did not see the stabbing. He ran to the scene to arrest Nealon but was surprised when Nealon said, “I am stabbed.” When Lynch saw the blood flowing from the wound, he assisted Nealon to a nearby doorway. McCall went for a doctor.

When Dr. Crilly arrived and saw the severity of the wound, he commandeered a passing wagon, loaded Nealon into the wagon, and told the driver to rush to Massachusetts General Hospital. As they rode, the doctor reached into the wound and grasped the severed artery with his fingers to stop the bleeding. However, at the hospital, they discovered that the damage was even worse than it appeared, and Nealon died within five minutes of arriving. 

A group of police officers searched for Ganie on Gouch Street. They found the weapon. It was a large knife, six to eight inches long with a broad, keen blade, “being altogether an ugly-looking affair.” They found Ganie in a dark room in a different building on Gouch Street. He offered no resistance and was soon behind bars in the Third Stationhouse.

Richard Nealon, the victim, was 22 years old. He was the least intoxicated of the three, but was known to have a wild disposition. At the time of the murder, Boston detectives had a warrant for his arrest for some earlier crime.

John W. Ganie, the murderer, was 26 years old, born in Canada, dark-complexioned, and had Indian blood. He was an eccentric individual, and some who knew him doubted his sanity. He was considered more intelligent than average, but investigated spiritualism, “and many other of the ‘isms’ of the day.” He would sometimes go an entire day without food while poring over some book. He had roomed with Aaron Barnes for upwards of ten years and was employed by Barnes as an assistant in his business.

The coroner’s jury concluded that Richard F. Nealon died as a result of a stab in the left breast inflicted by a knife in the hands of John W. Ganie. Although it was not stated in the verdict, the jury were of the opinion that Ganie acted in self-defense. When the case went to trial the following February, the trial jury agreed with the coroner’s jury and found Ganie not guilty.

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Sources: 

“Coroners' Inquest,” Boston Globe, December 2, 1874.
“Coroner's Inquest,” Boston Globe, December 3, 1874.
“The Fair,” Boston Daily Advertiser, February 19, 1875.
“The Knife in Boston,” Illustrated Police News, December 10, 1873.
“Superior Criminal Ccourt,” Boston Globe, February 17, 1875.

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.

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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.