The Demon Druses.

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

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

Read the full story here: The Druse Butchery.

"Your Time has Come!"

 

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

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

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

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

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

Read the full story here: The Kittery Crime.

Shot Down in Court.

Police Officers Farson and Conway were patrolling the neighborhood of Orleans and Washinton Streets in Memphis, Tennessee, on the night of April 28, 1890, when they heard a cry of,” Help! Murder!” They hurried to the source and opened the door to find a woman lying on the floor with a heavy-set man over her with a death grip on her throat. They arrested the man and took him to Central Station, where they learned that they had captured Jake Ackerman, one of the most successful and dangerous criminals in the country.

The Falls Field Tragedy.

On December 19, 1857, Nathan Newhafer slipped while crossing the Andrews Street Bridge in Rochester, New York. He fell into the Genesee River, was swept over High Falls, and disappeared. Newhafer was the president of Rochester’s Jewish Synagogue, and his congregation offered a reward for the recovery of his body. The following day, searchers found a man’s corpse on the shore of Falls Field. His skull had been fractured by blows to the head, his face had multiple wounds, and he was not Nathan Newhafer.

Falls Field, Rochester, NY

Emma and Samuel.

 

Samuel Smith and his wife Emma appeared to the world as a happy and affectionate young couple. She was pretty and vivacious with a dazzling wardrobe, and he was energetic with a winning personality. But beneath the surface was a hidden turmoil that did not come to light until Emma was found dead in their apartment, her head blown apart by a shotgun blast, and Samuel nowhere to be found.

Read the full story here: A Shrewd Rascal.

Elizabeth and Arthur.

Elizabeth and Arthur Ragan.

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

Read the full story here: Love and Arsenic.

The Dilliard Tragedy.

Around 2:00 AM, the morning of September 6, 1889 Mrs. Margaret Dilliard roused her husband, Arron, saying she heard a noise near the chicken coop of their Beersville, Pennsylvania farm. Aaron was reluctant to go outside, but Margaret insisted, handing him a lantern and a single-barreled shotgun. As Aaron went to investigate, Margaret waited on the porch with their 13-year-old son, Jacob. The chicken coop appeared to be undisturbed, and Aaron started back to the house, but his wife told him to check the cherry tree near the road where the chickens sometimes roosted. Aaron went back to the tree.

Neither Margaret nor Jacob heard a gunshot, but Aaron came stumbling out of the darkness a few minutes later and fell dead at their feet. He had been shot twice, with a bullet through the heart and buckshot in his neck. The killer had apparently used a double-barreled shotgun.

It was first believed that chicken thieves had shot Aaron Dilliard, but Detectives Johnson and Simons, who arrived from Easton, Pennsylvania later that day, quickly dismissed that theory. There were several indications that Dilliard’s death had been the result of a well-laid plan.  Though Margaret and Jacob heard no gunshots, neighbors half a mile away did hear them. Examining Aaron’s gun, the detectives found that the firing pin had been removed, rendering it useless. The detectives found no trace of intruders near the chicken coop, but by the cherry tree, they found footprints, a set of keys, and a paper wad from the killer’s gun.

Margaret Dilliard

Detectives Johnson and Simon believed that Margaret Dilliard was involved in a plot to murder her husband, but the prime suspect for the man who pulled the trigger was William Bartholomew, who, for several years, had an intimate relationship with Mrs. Dilliard. Bartholomew’s daughter recognized the keys as belonging to her father. She also said he had left the house after midnight while he said he was in all night. The paper wad found at the scene was torn from a copy of the Northampton Democrat found in Bartholomew’s house.  Bartholomew’s boots perfectly matched the footprints hear the scene.

William Bartholomew was a particularly unpleasant man. “A slouchy, unkempt, repulsive looking man of about 50 years,” said the Pittsburg Dispatch. “He has a forbidding appearance,” said the Philadelphia Inquirer, “He has the low forehead, snaky eyes, and general makeup of a felon.” Several years earlier, the Dilliards lived near Bartholomew and his wife, and William began an intimate relationship with Margaret Dilliard, who was twelve years younger. They made little effort to hide their romance, causing frequent quarrels in both households. Aaron moved his family to a farm three miles away, and for a time, the romance ceased.

William Bartholomew

In 1888, Mrs. Bartholomew became ill, and as she lay dying, she called for her husband, but he said that he did not have time to see her. When she died, he did not attend her funeral. It was rumored that William had poisoned his wife.

After his wife’s death, William resumed his relationship with Margaret Dilliard, and three or four times a week, he made the three-mile trip to see her. Sometimes he would stay overnight; it was impossible to hide their infidelity since everyone slept in one room. Jacob testified that Bartholomew often came to the house when his father was away and would give him candy and peanuts and send him to the store for tobacco. Aaron complained to his neighbors about Bartholomew’s behavior, and at the time of the murder, he was planning to move the family west.

Margaret Dilliard denied any involvement in the murder, but at her husband’s funeral, she had a change of heart and confessed all to the presiding minister. At the inquest, she testified against Bartholomew. She said he would not leave her alone, and she did not like it. But when Bartholomew proposed they kill her husband, she agreed. He removed the firing pin from her husband’s shotgun and told her to say she did not hear the gunshots. 

William Bartholomew and Margaret Dilliard were both arrested and charged with first-degree murder. The following October they were tried separately; both were found guilty and sentenced to hang. In exchange for her testimony against Bartholomew, the District Attorney promised to use all his influence with the governor to save her from the gallows. In January 1890, he made good on his promise, and her sentence was commuted to life in prison.

On April 9, 1890, the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania executed four men in four separate cities. Eight hundred people watched as William Bartholomew stood on the gallows in Easton. His last words were declarations of innocence mixed with curses and blasphemy, demanding that Mrs. Dilliard and Detective Johnson be hanged as well. 

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Sources: 

“Bartholomew Found Guilty,” Patriot, October 23, 1889.
“Details of the Crime,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 12, 1889.
“The Dilliard Murder William Bartholomew Arrested for Committing the Fould Deed,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 9, 1889.
“Four Hanged,” Evening World, April 9, 1890.
“Guilty Love Fired the Shot,” New York Herald, September 8, 1889.
“Hangman's Day,” Erie Times-News, April 9, 1890.
“He Caused the Murder,” Aberdeen Daily News, September 8, 1889.
“Her Death Sentencce,” Daily Yellowstone journal, January 14, 1890.
“Mrs,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 10, 1889.
“Mrs Dillard Sentenced,” Patriot, December 10, 1889.
“Mrs Dilliard Arrested,” Patriot, September 11, 1889.
“A Murder Confessed ,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 11, 1889.
“A Murder Near Beersville,” Patriot, September 7, 1889.
“Mysterious Murder Washington Dilliard Looks for Midnight Thieves and is Shot,” Philadelphia Inquirer, September 7, 1889.
“News and Other Notings,” Cambria freeman, December 20, 1889.
“Not So Mysterious,” Pittsburg Dispatch, September 8, 1889.
“Remorse of a Guilty Woman,” New York Herald, September 13, 1889.
“State News Notes,” Patriot, January 24, 1890.
“State News Notes,” Patriot, March 12, 1890.

The End of Mina.

 

In 1831, Cuban Exile Carolino Amalia Espos y Mina conspired with Lucretia Chapman to murder her husband. When the plot was exposed, only one conspirator was executed.

Read the full story here: The Cuban Con Artist.

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Carolino Estradas de Mina, The life and confession of Carolino Estradas de Mina (Philadelphia: Robert Desilver, 1832.)

Love and Arsenic.

Elizabeth Ragan

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

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

A Christmas Poisoning.

Mrs. Mary Paye.

On Christmas Day, 1882, Captain David W. Paye lay dying with symptoms so severe and unusual that three physicians had been called to his home in Fishkill Landing, New York, to consult on the case. For the previous week, Paye had been violently ill, with a burning in his throat, pains in his stomach, and an unquenchable thirst. Doctors Tiel, Wilson and Jones concluded that Paye was stricken with arsenic poisoning. Late that night, in great agony, Capt. Paye died.

At the time, arsenic in small doses was believed to be a cure for impotence, but Capt. Paye swore, as God was his judge, he had never taken anything to cause this illness. Though he did not accuse his wife, Mary, of poisoning him, he believed that the poison had been in a pie that she had baked; he had eaten heartily of the pie, he said, while his wife had just a little. Mary Paye tearfully denied this, saying that she had eaten most of the pie herself.

The Brown Tragedy.

Mary A. Brown

A wholesale robbery operation was uncovered outside of Irvington, Indiana, four miles east of

Indianapolis. In January 1879, John G. F. Brown and Pressley Miller were convicted of grand larceny and concealing stolen goods and sentenced to one year in the penitentiary. Brown’s wife Mary was also indicted but was released on her own recognizance.

John Brown left his wife with a 40-acre farm to manage and three children to raise. She was 33-years-old—nineteen years younger than her husband—and desperately in need of help. That’s not to say that Mary Brown was helpless; she very soon found the answer to all of her problems in Joseph W. Wade, a 33-year-old Irvington saloon owner. Wade, who was in the middle of a divorce, agreed to live at the farm and manage it for Mary, and even before his divorce was final he was sharing her bed as well as her board.

A one-year prison sentence is not very long. John Brown was released from the penitentiary and returned to his farm to find a domestic situation that was not to his liking. It is not clear what transpired at the Brown farm, but John Brown expected trouble and consulted his attorney. The last thing Brown said to him was, “I may never see you again.” Less than three weeks later John Brown was found murdered.

Joseph W. Wade

At a railroad crossing, about three miles from the farm, a neighbor found a horse and buggy, its cushion and lap rug were saturated with blood. The buggy was identified as John Brown’s and a search of the area found his body lying nearby, beside the railroad track. It first it looked like he had been shot in the head, but it was later determined that his skull had been fractured with a hammer.

I didn’t take long to determine who was responsible—Joe Wade was clearly in conflict with John Brown and Mary Brown had told her friends she would do away with her husband if he ever returned, she had a younger, better-looking man and she didn’t desire to “be tied down to an old fool like Brown.” Both were arrested for the murder of John Brown.

At first, they both denied any knowledge of the murder, but after a brief incarceration Mary Brown weakened and told her story of what happened the night of the murder. She said that Wade had planned to go to Irvington to sell his horse and went out to hitch the buggy.

“I went about attending to my work as usual when I heard a dull, heavy sound, and some groans. I rushed out and saw my husband dying. I had the child in my arms and Wade said, ‘Take in that child.’ I did so, after which I came out again and exclaimed, ‘Oh, my God, what have you done?’ He came up to me and put his arms around me saying ‘This is what love will do, darling.’…My reason for making a different statement before was, Wade threated my life if I gave him away.”

After hearing Mary Brown’s confession, Wade corroborated the story of the surroundings of the murder but said it was Mary who actually did the killing. Both were charged with first-degree murder.

They were tried separately, with Joseph Wade tried first in April of that year. The issue was not whether Wade was involved in the murder, but whether he wielded the hammer and if it was premeditated. Wade could not convince a jury that he was only an accessory; he was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to hang.

When Mary Brown was tried in July, Wade testified for the prosecution. He was not offered any clemency for his testimony, he would hang regardless, so had no incentive to lie. He testified that he had been discussing the sale of a horse with John Brown that Friday evening when Mary came up behind her husband and struck him in the back of the head with a wooden mallet. He fell to the floor, knocking his head against a table. Wade grabbed a lamp from the table as Mary struck Brown again, this time in the face. Wade said, “My God, woman, what have you done?” She said, “That’s no more than he has done.”

Wade hurried out of the house and began to unhitch his horse. Mary asked where he was going and he said Irvington. “No, you ain’t,” said Mary, “Joe Wade, if you leave me now, you’ll rue the day—you’re a man and I’m a woman—you’ve been staying here and nobody will suspect me of doing this.”

She wrapped up the body in a blanket and he helped her load it into the buggy. Then Mary dressed in Joe’s clothes and drove the buggy with Joe sitting beside her. Anyone who saw them would think they were two men. They left the body by the railroad track, and Mary turned his pockets inside out to make it look like he was robbed.  Abandoning the buggy, they walked back to the farm.

The jury deliberated for forty-six hours then found Mary Brown guilty of first-degree murder. She was sentenced to hang on October 29, 1880, the same day as Joseph Wade. Two days before the scheduled hanging, Governor Williams granted them a thirty-day respite to appeal their cases to the state Supreme Court.

The Supreme Court reviewed both cases. They found the two of the jurors on Mary Brown’s case were not competent, having prejudged the defendant; she was granted a new trial. The Supreme Court found nothing wrong with Joe Ward’s trial and let the verdict stand.

On November 18, Governor James D. Williams, in his last official act before dying three days later of inflammation of the bladder, granted Wade another respite so he could bring another appeal to the Supreme Court. This time he appealed on the grounds that the judge gave the jury erroneous instructions.

While awaiting the Supreme Court’s ruling, Ward testified at Mary Brown’s second trial. This time said that Mary’s intent to kill her husband “was of a sudden conception,” the murder had not been planned. Mary Brown was again convicted of first-degree murder, but this time sentenced to life imprisonment in the women’s reformatory.

In February 1881, the Supreme Court granted Joseph Ward a new trial and in his second trial, he was also sentenced to life in prison.

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Sources:
“The Brown Tragedy,” Daily Inter Ocean, February 14, 1880.
“In the First Degree,” Daily Illinois State Journal, April 30, 1880.
“An Indianapolis Murder,” Cincinnati Daily Gazette, February 9, 1880.
“Joseph Wade,” Indianapolis Sentinel, July 3, 1880.
“Marion Murders,” Evansville Courier and Press, May 20, 1880.
“Miscellaneous Misdeeds,” Daily Inter Ocean, December 30, 1880.
“To the Scaffold Will Mrs.,” Indianapolis Sentinel, July 13, 1880.
"Wade and His Paramour," National Police Gazette, November 6, 1880.
“The Wade Trial,” Indianapolis Sentinel, April 21, 1880.
“Wade to Get a New Trial,” Daily Inter Ocean, February 5, 1881.

“I Have Shot My Husband.”

An attractive young woman checked into the Paxton Hotel in Omaha, Nebraska, just before eight

o’clock the morning of November 17, 1888. Lewis Thomas, the elevator boy, took her to her room and as they rode in the elevator she asked him if Henry W. King was boarding at the hotel. When he answered yes she asked for his room number, and Thomas told her. Then she asked if a woman lived there with him. Thomas said yes and she responded angrily, “Well, the woman he is living with is not his wife.”

Cup of Affliction.

If Mary Runkle was to be believed, she lived a life of sorrow, made all the worse by false accusations. Her “cup of affliction,” was filled with tragic deaths of three of her children and the suspicion that she was responsible. When her husband John died as well, under questionable circumstances, she lost the benefit of doubt and was forced to pay the price.