Maggie Crowley.

Maggie Crowley.
(New York Journal, March 16, 1898.)

On March 15, 1898, a woman was found strangled to death in the courtyard of a New York City tenement.  She was the seventh strangulation victim in the Tenderloin district over the previous four years. What made this case different was that even before the victim was identified, the police had a suspect in custody. Some believed he was responsible for all seven murders.

Shortly before 5:00 a.m. Robert Hoey told Policeman Peter Dillman that there was a dead woman in the courtyard at 27 Monroe Street, where he lived. Hoey said he was returning from his job on the docks, unloading the steamer, Gulf Stream. Coming home in the dark, he literally stumbled over an obstruction that turned out to be a woman lying on the ground. He thought she was sleeping and tried to rouse her, but his efforts were in vain.

The woman was about 35 years old, with a light complexion, light-brown hair, and blue eyes. She wore a blue-and-white striped shirtwaist, a grey-and-black striped skirt, a gingham apron, black stockings, and buttoned shoes. She lay on her side, with a handkerchief and a dark shawl folded as a pillow.

Dillman called for an ambulance from Gouverneur Hospital. After a quick examination, the ambulance doctor said she had died from natural causes. The ambulance took the body to the Seventh Precinct police station, where Deputy Coroner Williams performed an autopsy. Contrary to the ambulance doctor's claim, he declared her death was due to violence. Dark marks on her neck had been made by the grasp of a strong hand. Her death was caused by strangulation, and, in Williams’s opinion, she had been dead about three days.

Detectives investigating the case soon discovered that Hoey had lied. He had not been working on the pier that night; according to the timekeeper, he had not worked for ten days. They brought Hoey in for questioning, and he told a different story. He said he had been drinking in the Tekulsky Brother’s saloon at 33 Monroe Street with Charles Weston, a professional mandolin player, and Thomas Cosgrove, a wagon driver. They decided to go to Hoey’s flat, and they found John Brown, half-dressed, standing over a woman’s body. Hoey went to get a lamp to get a better look, and when he came back, Brown was gone. 

No one was able to identify the dead woman. None of the men arrested knew her, and a bartender from Tekulsky Brothers didn’t think she was from the neighborhood. Some of the police officers had seen her around, but they did not know her name. Ellen Bradford, an employee of Bellevue Hospital, thought she was Ellen Fitzgerald, who had been discharged from the House of Correction on February 23. But the police soon learned that Ellen Fitzgerald was sixty-four years old, and the victim was no more than thirty-five.

(New York Journal, March 16, 1898.)

The courtyard at 27 Monroe, known locally as “The Hole in the Wall,” was frequently the site of brawls. James Swadle, who lives on the second floor of 27 Monroe Street, was awakened by loud cries at around 2:40 A.M. on Monday, March 15. He went outside with a lantern and saw Hoey, who told him there was a dead woman in the yard. Swaddle ran out into the street shouting, "Police!" while Hoey awakened Mrs. Downing, the housekeeper at 27 Monroe. She refused to come to the courtyard, saying she could not attend to every fight. 

Mrs. Downing later told the police that she heard a woman crying for water at 2:00.  She saw Hoey and two other men leave the house shortly before the alarm was given. The police thought that the death was the result of a row during a drunken quarrel. The murder was not committed in the courtyard; the body had been dragged there. The coroner's assessment that she had died three days earlier was ignored.

Under further examination by Inspector Cross and Captain Nally, Hoey stated that he had been picking Brown’s pocket while Brown was strangling the woman. That was why he lied about coming home from work. He said he did not know at the time that Brown was choking the woman; he thought he was there for some other purpose. 

On March 17, a barber told the police that John Brown had been in his shop the morning after the murder and had him shave off his mustache. He said he knew Brown well, and he replayed their conversation to the police:

“I’m in a lot of trouble,” Brown said. “I’ve just strangled a woman and got bilked out of $4. I need money badly, and I want you to lend me $10.”

“You don’t mean to say you killed the woman?” asked the barber.

“I guess I have,” replied Brown. “I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t mean even to hurt her, but I had to.”

Mrs. Lynch, who lived on the floor above Hoey’s, said on the night of the murder, she heard fighting in Hoey’s rooms; she heard a woman cry, “Mamie, get me some water!” Then a man’s voice said, “For God’s sake, give her some water!” Doors slammed, and there was a great noise of quarreling. 

(New York Journal, March 16, 1898.)

As the questioning continued, the story kept changing. Now they said that, at 2 a.m., Monday morning, Cosgrove and Weston had purchased a bottle of whiskey. They met Hoey, who suggested they go to his flat and drink it. They agreed, and the three of them went to 27 Monroe. That is when they met Brown standing over the body.

“What are you doing here?” Hoey asked.

“What do you think?” replied Brown, and he began to run. Hoey grabbed him, and they started fighting. When Cosgrove and Weston joined in, Hoey took the opportunity to rob brown of $4 and some change. Brown said he would fight to the end if he didn’t get his money back.  Weston became the peacemaker and decided that, since Brown was the intruder, Hoey should keep the bills and return the change. Seeing he was outnumbered, Brown agreed, and after taking a drink, he left quietly. That is when Hoey discovered that the woman was dead and called for help. In addition to the three already in custody, the police arrested James Dee. He had not been with them for the fight, but he overheard the others talking about robbing the man. The witnesses' testimony led to the arrest of John Brown.

They also arrested Charles Weston’s wife, May Fernandez, alias Mamie Largo. She was of Spanish descent, and “was said to be one of the most depraved women in that part of the city.” She puffed on a cigarette as she told police her story:

I know the sailor. I met him early Sunday evening and we had a talk. Then I saw him again in company with the woman who is now dead. I know her well, but I cannot tell her name. She used to hang around this part of the city. Brown and the woman were having some words. They wanted to come into my hallway, but I told them not to, and they went away.

The police arrested Robert Hoey’s common-law wife, Mary, whose real name was Mary Reilly. She said Brown had been in their rooms with the murdered woman. The police believed that the strangling took place in Hoey’s second-floor apartment, and the body was dragged to the courtyard. Brown was charged with murder, Hoey was charged with robbery, and the other five were held as witnesses.

The New York World described the accused killer:

The man who is arrested, charged with the crime, gives the name of John Brown and says he is thirty-eight years old, and a native of Holland. He is a sailor, short and stocky, with broad shoulders and a skin browned by the sun of many climates. His hands—the weapons with which, it is alleged, he killed the woman are very large. His expression is sullen. He is a man who knows enough to keep his own counsel. His small gray eyes are shifty, and altogether he impresses one as a man rather to be met in the light than in the dark.

John "Sailor" Brown.
(New York Journal, March 16, 1898.)

The newspapers were now referring to the accused as “Sailor” Brown; they would soon drop the quotation marks, as if “Sailor” were his given name. The police would not rule out the possibility that Sailor Brown was responsible for many other unsolved Tenderloin strangulation cases, citing those of Hannah Altman and “Diamond Flossie” Murphy. Most of these murders involved ropes or cloths tied in knots familiar to sailors. Many witnesses said the Strangler had a dark complexion, like Sailor Brown's sun-browned face. In her last words to her husband, Flossie Murphy said she was going to meet the Dutchman, and Sailor Brown was Dutch.

Jennie Isaacs, who kept a saloon on Monroe Street, had been to the morgue and recognized the corpse as a woman who had lived in the neighborhood about a year earlier. She did not remember her name. On Sunday night, Isaacs saw her in the saloon with Brown, Weston, and Mamie Fernandez. It was known that Brown had money, and Isaacs was convinced he would be robbed.

The murdered woman was still being referred to as Ellen Fitzgerald, though the age discrepancy made the identification unlikely. Then, in a manner that the New York Journal said “reads like a French detective story,” Policeman Thomas F. Kealey discovered the victim’s true identity. While on patrol, he saw an older woman wearing a shawl identical in color and design to the one found with the murdered woman.  He also detected a resemblance between the older woman and the victim.

Kealey asked the woman, Mrs. Clarkson, if she had a daughter. Mrs. Clarkson said she did have a daughter, but she hadn’t seen her since Sunday. Kealey took her to the morgue to view the body. When she saw the corpse, Mrs. Clarkson cried without hesitation, "It is my Margaret!" 

Mrs. Clarkeson said that Margaret, known as Maggie, was 34 years old and worked as a housemaid. Nine years earlier, she had married a man named Crowley, who died shortly after. Following her husband’s death, Maggie acquired a taste for strong drink, and it was her custom to go on periodic sprees. Mrs. Clarkson was aware of this weakness, so when her employer informed her of Maggie's absence, she believed her daughter was on a spree and would return in a day or two.

With this valuable information, the police were able to trace Maggie's movements. Jennie Silver, daughter of Maggie's employer, told police that Maggie spoke of visits she made to her friend, Mrs. Bridget Lynch.  On Sunday night, Maggie visited Mrs. Lynch, who lived next door to Hoey. They sent out for several pints of beer. Maggie left and was later seen in the company of Sailor Brown. Mrs. Lynch learned that Maggie had then gone to the rooms of Mr. and Mrs. Hoey.

As it turned out, John Crowley, Maggie Clarkson Crowley’s husband, was not dead. When he read about the body’s identification, he went to the Police Station and told his story:

They all thought I was dead and buried, and I was willing they should think so. But after I read of the horrible way in which my wife was killed, my conscience hurt me and I made up my mind to give her a decent burial some way or other. As badly as she treated me, I could not bear to have her put in the field.

I had nothing to complain about until she got in with a lot of women who were not as they should have been. She began to drink, and all my arguments went for nothing. She wouldn’t listen to me. By and by she began to neglect me and the baby we had. The little one died. Her neglect was responsible for its death.

When Maggie started going with other men, Crowley decided to leave her. He got a job as a cook on a whaling ship. When he returned two years later, he learned that everyone thought he was dead, and he decided not to enlighten them.

Coroner Zucca held an inquest on March 28. Mrs. Hoey had been released, but the other six who had been arrested on suspicion gave testimony. The jury returned a verdict without leaving the box that Margaret Clarkson Crowley “came to her death by strangulation at the hands of a person or persons unknown to them.” Sailor Brown and the four men witnesses were sent back to the Tombs to await the action of the Grand Jury. May Fernandez was sent to the House of Detention for creating a commotion in the Criminal Building by smoking a cigarette.

The Grand Jury hearing on May 10 was a rowdy affair. The New York Herald described the motley crew of witnesses and spectators:

The Bowery girl was there, chewing gum and smoking cigarettes. With her came the Cherry Hill boy, who chewed tobacco and spat at the ceiling. There were old men who for fifty years lived an intermittent life along the riverfront, together with Swedish sailors and Irish boarding house keepers. 

The Grand Jury ordered indictments against John Brown, Robert Hoey, and Thomas Cosgrove for the murder of Maggie Cowley.

The murder trial opened on July 10, 1898, and ended the same day. After hearing the evidence the prosecution presented, Justice Fursman said, “I direct the jury to acquit the prisoner. A case should not be submitted to a jury on mere conjecture and suspicion.” Sailor Brown was acquitted, and indictments against Hoey and Cosgrove were dismissed.

The case was closed, adding Maggie Crowley’s murder to the growing list of unsolved Tenderloin strangulation cases. Once again, a promising suspect for the murders was acquitted for lack of evidence. Sailor Brown was not Jack the Strangler.

---

Sources:

“"Sailor" Brown Confessed that he was the Strangler,” New York Evening Journal., March 17, 1898.
“4 Men Arrested,” New York American, March 16, 1898.
“An Unknown Woman Strangled to Death,” The World, March 16, 1898.
“Back Like One from the Dead,” New York Evening Journal., March 21, 1898.
“Dead Woman Identified,” Sun., March 20, 1898.
“Expert Study of "Sailor" Brown,” New York Journal, March 19, 1898.
“Facts in the Strangler Case,” New York Evening Journal, March 16, 1898.
“False Clews to a Strangler's Murder,” New York Journal, March 18, 1898.
“Held for Killing a Girl,” New York Herald, May 11, 1898.
“Identified in French Detective Story Style,” New York Journal and Advertiser, March 20, 1898.
“The Margaret Clarkson Case,” The New York Times, March 29, 1898.
“May be the Strangler,” New York Evening Journal, March 16, 1898.
“Monroe Street Murder,” The New York Times, March 17, 1898.
“Monroe Street Strangling,” New York Herald, March 29, 1898.
“More Clews to Dark Mystery of the Strangler,” New York Journal, March 17, 1898.
“One Link Missing,” New York Journal, March 19, 1898.
“Says He's the Strangler,” The World, March 17, 1898.
“Seven Murder Suspects Held,” New-York Tribune, March 19, 1898.
“Strangled Victim Positively Identified as Maggie Clark.,” New York Evening Journal, March 19, 1898.
“Strangler Mark on Dead Woman's Neck Told of Murder,” New York Evening Journal, March 15, 1898.
“Victim of Strangler,” New York Evening Journal, March 15, 1898.
“Who Killed This Woman,” New York Herald, March 16, 1898.

"Diamond Flossie" Murphy.

"Diamond Flossie" Murphy.
(New York Journal, March 18, 1898.)

Flossie Murphy was a flamboyant character, notorious in the demi-monde of New York City’s Tenderloin. She had a fondness for diamond jewelry, which she wore conspicuously, earning her the nickname, “Diamond Flossie.” But when she was found on the floor of her room on April 22, 1897, with a rope tied around her neck and all her jewelry gone, the coroner ignored evidence of theft and murder and ruled her death a suicide.

Diamond Flossie was born Flossie Reilly in Albany, New York, and had come to New York City six years earlier. She lived at 228 W. 24th Street with her common-law husband, Alexander Frederick Murphy, taking his last name. The police knew Diamond Flossie as a woman of the street and a thief. She was arrested in March with her friend Ida Carr for picking the pocket of one William Bishop. They returned the money, $80, and Bishop withdrew the charge.

She was addicted to opium, and, on the night of the murder, Mr. Murphy prepared a pipe for her before going out. The last thing she said before he left was that she was planning to meet the Dutchman at the corner of 27th Street and 7th Avenue.

Hannah Altman.

(New York Evening Journal, March 18, 1898)

Around 1 a.m. on September 2, 1896, Samuel Meyers ran out of the tenement at 202 East 29^th Street, screaming, “Murder! Murder! Police! Police!”

Patrolman Tyler heard his cries and ran to the spot.

“My wife is murdered!” said Meyers, “Somebody has killed my wife. She’s dead.”

Tyler and another officer followed Meyers to a second-floor apartment. The first policeman who entered the bedroom recoiled in horror. In flickering candlelight, he saw the distorted features of a young woman, wearing only a yellow shirtwaist and a chemise, with her head hanging over the edge of the bed. A black stocking was wrapped tightly around her neck and tied under her chin.

Annie Bock.

(New York Journal, August 5, 1896)

Annie Bock and her husband, Jacob, were spending the summer at Rockaway Beach. On Sunday, August 1, 1896, Annie went back to their flat at 207 E. 21st Street in New York City’s Tenderloin district to pay their monthly rent. She had $300 in the Dry Dock Savings Bank, and on Monday morning, she withdrew $50 and paid $20 rent. The plan was to return to Rockaway that afternoon; instead, she went to Coney Island, possibly accompanied by a man. “At 9:00 she was on 14th Street,” said the New York Journal, “the pavements of which she knew well.” 

Her movements were observed by others who knew the pavements well. Rosa Schwartz saw Annie stop and converse with a man, 5’ 6”, slender, graying hair, wearing a black frock coat and a straw hat. They walked to 3rd Avenue and took a cable car uptown. Hattie Stein and Lillie Field saw them alight from the car on 21st Street and enter No. 207 together. Mamie Freidman saw them leave the house about 20 minutes later. At about 12:30, Mrs. Feltner, who had a view of the entrance to 207 from her window, saw Annie return to the house with another man, medium build, with a swarthy complexion and a black mustache. This was the last time Annie Bock was seen alive by anyone but her killer.

Mamie Cunningham.

(New York Journal, May 31, 1896.)

On the morning of Memorial Day, May 30, 1896, Mrs. Annie Cunningham had to go to work, while her 13-year-old daughter, Mary (known as Mamie), was home from school for the holiday. Mrs. Cunningham asked Mamie if she planned to go to the parade. Mamie said no, she wasn’t interested, and she planned to do housework and study. At 8:30, Mrs. Cunningham said goodbye to her daughter; it was the last time she saw Mamie alive.

Minnie Weldt.

(New York Evening Journal, March 18, 1898.)

Helen Kahlert, a washerwoman, came home from work at 8:00 on the evening of Wednesday, May 30, 1894. After working all day at a home on Park Avenue in New York City, she climbed the stairs to the humble, second-floor apartment on East 61st Street that she shared with Minnie Weldt. To her surprise, the door was unlocked, and the apartment was dark. Minnie should have been home, but there was no response when Helen called out to her. Helen went into the bedroom and struck a match. She saw Minnie lying on the bed with a handkerchief tied tightly around her throat. Her face was badly discolored, and her eyes were bulging from their sockets. Helen screamed in horror, then rushed from the room down to the street, crying for help.

Jack the Strangler.

(New York Journal, March 18, 1898.)

When the news of London’s 1888 Whitechapel Murders, attributed to “Jack the Ripper,” crossed the Atlantic, Americans were instantly fascinated. The vision of a dark, elusive killer, mutilating women without motive, was morbidly titillating, and the name Jack the Ripper fired the popular imagination. In the nascent age of yellow journalism, no one was more fascinated by Jack the Ripper than newspaper reporters who began seeing Ripper-like murders everywhere they looked.

Sensational murder reporting had been a staple of American newspapers since the 1830s, and multiple murderers (serial killers) were active in America throughout the 19^th-century. But the fear of deranged killers roaming the streets and killing at random was something new. Journalists instinctively saw the value of linking murders to a single killer, and they invariably attributed groups of unsolved murders to some local version of Jack. 

Butchered and Burned.

National Police Gazette, January 28, 1882

Mrs. J.W. Gibbons was away from her home in Ashland, Kentucky, on December 23, 1881. She left behind her 18-year-old son Robert, her 14-year-old daughter Fannie, and 17-year-old Emma Thomas (aka Carico), who was staying with them. Mrs. Gibbons returned the following day to find her home burned to the ground and all three inhabitants dead.

Read the full story here: The Ashland Outrage.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.”