New York, executions recorded in statewide records, 1857-1988, Undated

Online content

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Exact Vale 4/20/77, The tue deserters identified as DANIEL CONNOR
and SAMES Mc CAFF/T. Y>. Peg peges AAY-AAS of Westchester Countg-———
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| SAMES HART, DANIEL SHA VER, CHARLES MUL y ER, DA Vid DICKE , ; .

| Peo The Publ: Fapes if Oe Geoge Cinta. Vol. 3 pages 3al- 3S

And 39.344, Stake Hryfecs, Albery. 1900 .

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1987. Frederick O'brien, Henry Heyleyman b Kichard Roach.
Swpptsedly execufed on 9/9/87. Bad into. wherever yon gor This
trum. Ws Journal b beehly Register 9/13/87 reparts & four
weth Th tir all three and 20 Substgyent meatiin Found
th any WY paper. Very pribably gor HW hook ,

/789. John hutas b Jthn Thomas. NY Journal b Weekly Regpster
2/11/89 reports That hey were beth executed om 2//3. Flease
alter date: Unable 70 thal any oefails of they Chine .

1789. Henry Hornbeck. NY Packet 2/3/89 avy reports his
Convichin and Says that he 1s Te hang om 2/27. No Subsequent
Mention fund 1h tary NY PIER

/789. Samuel Waters, Abraham Morehouse, forwe! foung &.Jthn Lupion.
Wy Packet 5/12/89 2:+ reports That all four were condamned regelier.
5/23/89 3:2 reports execution of Lupton ONLY on previaes Say.

No subsequent mention found of any of the other Three /n any NY paper.

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NcDermolt at Liyehgstom Manor and gathed admiflante
theren under Fale prefence oF arresting hin tor
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and p Und tred the house while Terror sity The thhabisanys. Picked
up dt Jrechold NT by hue and cry. Yyy fachet 2/70 24
bonfarns double execution om /2f8 and Says that Yhey had betn
potlrious band thi during the Wak.

NEw YORK

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eee eee

Gilbert Coleman, May 9, 1910,

Samuel D, Austin, January 3, 1911,

Thomas Barnes, June 12, 1911

Fred Gebhardt, June 12, 1911 .
Pietro Falletta, Nov, 20, 1911

Phillip Montgano, Jan. 8, 1912

Albert Wolter, January 29, 1912

I WAS CONDEMNED
TO THE CHAIR

By EDWARD F. McGRATH
oo

Sing Sing Death-house Prisoner No. 60021
Recommitted for Twenty Years to Life as No. 61550

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
GEORGE W. KIRCHWEY, LL.D.
Former Warden of Sing Sing Prison

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
NEW YORK MCMXXXIV

SGA.

\ .
| oan 5 LAW CENTER LIBRARY
NW UNIV. OF ALABAMA
COPYRIGHT, 1934, BY FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY {Y\ |
.
: All rights reserved. No part of this

} work may be reproduced without the |
i written permission of the publishers.

| | INTRODUCTION

| It is not often that the prison comes alive
| through the printed page as it does in this work.
) The prison book, if well done, ministers to a real
| craving—on the part of the reading public, who
| hope to find in it the last, unwritten chapter of the
narrative of crime and detection; on the part of
the criminologist, amateur or professional, who
| demands an understanding of the effects of prison
life on the individual committed to its tender mer-
cies. For both these purposes it is at its best when
it is the fruit of the writer’s actual experience, not
a detached study made by a too-dispassionate out-
sider. The passion of the victim may be the flame
needed to bring to light the more subtle, hidden
influences that make up the complete picture. In
this respect Oscar Wilde’s “Ballad of Reading
| - Gaol” is far more illuminating than John How-
- ard’s “State of the Prisons of England and Wales.”
Even the writing prisoner—and there have been
many of them in recent years—too often puts him-
self into the objective frame of mind for literary
purposes and gives us description rather than rev-
elation—revelation of what the prison is doing to
him, what it is making of him.
In this work we have a first-hand narrative, a
Printed in the United States of America | vivid and colorful account of a long prison experi-
Vv

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AN ETFO mie mmei

1p rhea aie et Ne

28 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

various alleged irregularities in msnagement, and
in the treatment of prisoners.

A prison bookkeeper, Herbert S. Middlemiss,
let the cat out of the bag and, on the strength of his
disclosures, the warden, Storehouse Keeper Gibbs
and Kitchen Keeper Hahn were indicted. But
there were no convictions, since the only testimony
available was that of aconvict. And a convict isn’t
a citizen; he’s a number.

But all three were dismissed from the prison
service.

CHAPTER 4

I had been in the death-house three months be-
fore one of our “members” was taken from his cell,

through the little green door and down the “last

mile” to the electric chair. And although those
three months had been spent in the very shadow of
death, the execution of Jim Coleman was a terrific
ordeal for me.

Since the State of New York has not seen fit to
abolish the death penalty, I am glad that it has
rearranged the death-house so that the condemned
men cannot see victims taken to the chair. Now,
only a few isolation cells are connected with the
execution chamber. Condemned prisoners are re-
moved to these cells from the main cell-block of
the death-house early in the day of their execution.
Their last throes of anguish, their last despair, is
witnessed only by guards, the death-chair attend-
ants and those warped individuals who beg for

* the opportunity to witness a legalized murder.

Jim Coleman, a colored man, was the first man
I saw led from his cell to the execution chamber.
For weeks he had been hoping that somehow his
sentence would be commuted to life imprisonment.
Finally came word that the Governor had decided
not to interfere with the ruling of the Court of
Appeals, which had confirmed the decision of the

30 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 31

trial judge. Coleman’s last hope had vanished.

When he first heard the news, Coleman seemed
ready to collapse. He paced the floor of his cell
or sat on his bed, his head between his hands, sob-
bing convulsively but silently. After a few hours
he caught hold of himself.

“McGrath,” he called to me as he stood by the
bars of his door, “these guys think I am afraid to
die and that they’ll have to give me the rush when
the time comes for the last mile. Well, they’re all
off. I’m going to be game. I’ll show them I’m no
coward.

‘“You’ve never seen a guy hit the trail, have you?
Well, when it’s your turn to be shot through the
gates of hell with eighteen hundred volts of juice
behind you, think of me and keep your chin up
the way I’m going to.”

I respected Coleman. The fact that he was
colored had made no difference to me—or to any
one in the death-house. We had watched his fight
for liberty or a commutation and had hoped he
would win—even as we were certain that he would
not. Coleman was one of us, and he was going to
die. The color of his skin could not alter nor miti-
gate that stark, ugly realization.

And while I respected Coleman’s courage, I
wondered if it could last. I wondered if any man
could keep up his courage for the last twenty-four
hours he’d ever know.

Coleman’s last day on earth was a trying one for
all of us. Just as caged animals become nervous

and restless as some unseen fate approaches, so we
all became irritable and on edge. There were vis-
itors, come to bid him farewell ; his lawyer, who
still sought some way of inducing a change of heart
on the part of the Governor; the prison clerk, who
wanted to know who was to receive the pitifully
few possessions that Coleman would leave behind.

Finally there came a guard.

“What the hell do you want?” Coleman asked
ily.

The warden wants to know what you'd like for
dinner. You can have anything you want.”

“Listen,” replied Coleman, “you go back and
tell the warden to have prepared the best dinner in
the place, then look up some poor lifer and give
itto him. I don’t need no special dinner. How’s
that, McGrath?”

“God-damn square of you, Coleman,” I said,
and I meant it. ;

An hour later, when the big wooden trays of din-
ner were brought to us, none of us touched a bite
of food. All of us were thinking of Coleman and
none of us could eat in the presence of the old grim
reaper who stood, his scythe drawn back, ready to
harvest a soul that had been close to us.

I thought the time never would pass. Minute
after minute dragged by. At last the preacher
came, was admitted to Coleman’s cell and for
about half an hour we could hear their voices as
they talked and prayed.

The zero hour.

34. I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 35

some of the songs I played. One of them was a
popular song about “Rings on My Fingers and
Bells on My Toes,” and another was “Oh, Didn’t
He Ramble.” Can you remember them?

After an hour or so of this, most of the tension
had been relieved and one by one we went to bed.
Soon the only sound to be heard was the snores of
the men and the soft pattering of the guard’s felt
slippers as he made the rounds to be sure that all
was well.

Next morning I was transferred to Coleman’s
cell, Number One. It was slightly larger than the
one I had been in, and was next to the door to the
death-house yard, where every morning we were
given half an hour of exercise.

A few weeks after the Coleman execution, one
of the most colorful characters in criminal history
was brought to the death-house. It was “Bangor
Billy” Barnes, the safe-cracker who had baffled the
police for thirty years.

Barnes had been admitted in the afternoon and
I, busy with a German grammar that Warden
Kennedy had gotten for me, didn’t pay much atten-
tion to him. He had been placed in the cell di-
rectly across from me, and when we lined up at our
doors for supper I noticed him staring at me.

“Hello, kid, who are you?” he called.

“Eddie McGrath,” I told him.

“Well, Pll be damned! So you’re the guy I
read about! Two trials and all that. I thought
you was a big guy! Anyway, I’m glad to meet

you, kid. You got a bad break. The judge sure
meant to burn you and he didn’t let nothing stand
in the way. I’m ‘Bangor Billy’ Barnes.”

I waved an acknowledgment of the introduc-
tion.

“Yes, I got a bad break,” I complained. “I’m
innocent, in the first place, and illegally sentenced
in the second. But, after all, the only thing that
matters is that I’m here, waiting for the chair.”

“Aw, keep cool, kid. Your lawyer’s appealing,
ain’t he? And listen, I know a little about law and
I’m willing to bet that you get off O.K. Jesus, I'd
like to have your chances. Now me, I’m dif-
ferent.”

“Tell me about it,” I urged.

“Well, I ain’t a killer. I was one of the best
cracksmen in the game and everything would have
been jake if I hadn’t teamed up with a fellow that
turned out to be a yellow bastard. On the last job
he got shot and caught, but was let out on bail. I
found out he was getting ready to turn State’s evi-
dence to save a measly three or four year bit, so I
went to see him about it. We had an argument and
he got hurt, so here I am.”

“Are you appealing, Billy?”

“Hell, no. What fore I wouldn’t take life if
they handed it to me on a silver platter. It’s either
that or the chair and I prefer the chair. After all,
I know what the Big House is like and I don’t
want any life term there!”

Billy ate ravenously and after he had finished I

32 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 33

Six husky guards—the strong-arm squad.
Quickly they stepped up to each cel] and pulled
down the heavy shade that completely covered the
door and was meant to keep us from witnessing the
struggle that might take place as the condemned
man was taken from his cell to the execution-
chamber.

The shade on my door was old and torn. I sat
on my stool, fascinated and horrified, unable to
keep from watching the precise, efficient move-
ments of the strong-arm squad. A guard entered
Coleman’s cell and, with one quick slash, cut his
trouser leg from the knee down.

“Come,” he said and Coleman, his face shining
with nervous perspiration, his hands and knees
trembling, rose and taking the arm of the minister,
stepped through his cell door for the last time.
Unwaveringly they headed for the little green
door, the six guards falling in behind.

A guard held the door open, but at the threshold
Coleman hesitated and turned his head.

“So long, boys.”

“So long, Jim.” It was like a benediction.
There wasn’t one of us whose throat didn’t tighten.
Not one of us who didn’t wonder if it was really
the end—

Coleman made good his promise. He went to
his death bravely!

A minute or two later we heard a faint droning
that we knew must come from the chair itself—and

that struck fear to us all. Jim Coleman was dead!
He had paid the penalty for taking a human life.

Again the execution-chamber door opened. The
strong-arm squad returned—alone. With a snap
and a clatter, the shades were raised, revealing the
pale, drawn faces of us who were to suffer the
doom just meted out to Coleman.

It is difficult to restore the death-house to normal
after an execution. The men are thinking of the
time when they, too, must go, and the fears that
these thoughts engender are manifested in various
ways. Some of the men become sullen, some abu-
sive and some are overcome by what almost
amounts to hysteria.

But our night guard had had a lot of experience.
Years in the death-house had been a valuable
teacher. As soon as we were alone, he pushed his
cap back and called .out, ‘(Come on, boys, let’s
whoop it up for a few minutes.

“First we'll sing a couple of hymns, then we’ll
have Mac play a couple of tunes on that old
mouth-organ of his. Let’s go!”

With the guard acting as a sort of cheer leader,
we all joined in “Nearer My God to Thee” and a
couple of other well-known hymns; then I broke
out the harmonica and played all the fastest and
snappiest marches and popular tunes I knew.

That night stands out in my memory as vividly
as though it were yesterday. I even remember

36 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 37

saw him carefully examining the locks and hinges
of his cell door and, like every other newcomer,
scrutinizing the skylights and ceiling.

“It’s no use, Billy, this is a real strongbox!”

He looked over and grinned.

Of all the prisoners in the death-house, “Bangor
Billy” was the one who tried hardest to encourage
me and keep my spirits up. Every day he would
discuss various features of the case and comment
on such reports as I received from Col. Haire.
Billy professed to having a knowledge of the law;
whether this was to add a degree of authenticity to
his assurances of my ultimate delivery or not, I’ll
never know. And “Bangor Billy,” who repeatedly
expressed the hope that his execution would not
take place until after I had a decision on my ap-
peal, went to his death without knowing that his
prophecies had been fulfilled.

Billy was a criminal and a murderer. But he
was a real friend during the days he and I were
neighbors in the death-house. It was his encour-
agement—when I sorely needed encouragement—
that helped me keep up hope.

As might be expected, Billy met his end bravely,
and with a bit of bravado; bravado beneath which
I could detect bitterness and resentment.

The day before his execution there appeared in
the death-house one of the priests who regularly
attended condemned men and offered them the last
rites of the church.

“Good-morning, Billy.” The priest, a youngish

man, was almost jovial. “I’ve come, by the grace

_ of God, to set your soul right with Him, to give

you your last communion and to make it possible
for you to be absolved of your sins.”

Billy looked him up and down for a minute,
then grunted. |

“Listen, Father, all the priests from here to
Rome couldn’t save me from the flames of Hell—if
there is a Hell, which I doubt. I’ve lived without
the help or instruction of any priest or the church
and, by God, I’m not going to start in now. I ve
lived the way I’ve wanted to and I’m going to die
the same way. You won't see me flopping on my
knees like some of these god-damn hypocrites. Do
I make myself clear? Please don’t call again |”

“Billy,” I shouted. ‘What are you saying?
Don’t you know you must set your soul right with
God before you die?”

“Just a minute, Eddie. Now, Father, do you
mean to tell me that by confessing my sins I can
win forgiveness for a life of what you would call
wickedness?”

“Tt is so written in the Bible.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence that way, Father.
If there is anything to this religion, the gravy goes
to the guys that have gone to church all their lives,
not to people like me who’ve never bothered about
it, one way or the other. I’d like to please Mc-
Grath, over there, he’s a good kid, but I can’t do it.
I'll die the way I want to. Now will you go?”

Shaking his head sadly, the priest walked out of

40 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

little green door, turn and wave to the curtained
cells and then step—into eternity?

‘So long, boys!”

Forgive me if I seem to approach the maudlin.
It isn’t that, it is merely that Billy’s electrocution
meant more to me than the killing of any other
man who was in the death-house during my term
there. Even today I can close my eyes and see
everything that took place, hear every sound, feel
again that sense of personal loss I felt after Billy
had gone.

The night of Billy’s electrocution was a terrific
ordeal for a second reason. He did not go to his
death alone. He followed, by less than ten min-
utes, Frederick Gebhardt, a bigamist who sought
to escape from his entanglements by murdering
one of his wives. The law caught up with him and
justice brooked no delay. He was tried, convicted
and sent to the death-house as quickly as possible.
And he stayed with us the shortest length of time
the law allowed.

Gebhardt, as I say, preceded Billy, and that aw-
ful significant drone was heard in the death house
before the strong arm squad came to get Barnes.
It was the drone of death. Then Billy went.
Again that drone with all that it implied. I shall
never forget it as long as I live.

I don’t know how my mind withstood the shock
of that night. No matter how many times I saw
one of the boys led away, the physical pain and
mental torture increased. Never, on these nights,

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 41

could I sleep. I could not even sit still. Hour
after hour I would pace the floor of my cell until
at last the black squares of skylight would turn
gray, then pink, and finally there would appear the
first rays of the morning sun. Not until then could
I free myself of the horror of the night before, or
of that hounding, gnawing fear that some day they
would come to my cell, slit the leg of my trousers,
lead me to that barbaric, terrible seat of torture
and death.

On the nights of executions, my will-power
failed me. At other times I managed to keep my
mind relatively free of fear and worry. I read
and studied, played checkers or other games with
my fellow prisoners, kept going at the harmonica,
wrote endless letters. And it was these things, I
am sure, that saved me from insanity. During the
time I was in the death-house, I saw two of the
boys taken out and sent to Dannemora—raving
maniacs!

I realized that they had brooded until finally
their brains had given way under the strain. And
seeing them strengthened my determination to
keep a healthy mind. I couldn’t keep from think-
ing of my fate and from studying every possible
means of saving myself from the chair, but I could
—and I did—keep from permitting it to become
an obsession.

As I think back over the men I saw sent there,
the futility and injustice of the death penalty im-
presses itself on me more and more. In every case,

1]
|

38 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

the death-house. It was the first time a condemned
man had refused the ministrations of a representa-
tive of his church.

Astounded at Billy’s sacrilege, I stood speech-
less. Finally I managed to gasp, ‘““Why did you
do that, Billy?” :

“Listen, Eddie. You’ve been here several
months. You’re a good Catholic. Did that priest
ever come to see you? Did he ever try to cheer
you up and tell you that you’d got a rotten deal?
Did he ever say he hoped you’d get off and would
pray for you? Did he, lad?”

‘“‘No-0-0-0-0, but—”

‘“‘What the hell do you suppose he’s coming
around here for now? I know; I’ve seen it hap-
pen. What he wants is a confession from me.
Nothing doing. If his religion is so good, why
are you here? And why isn’t he trying to help
your”

I couldn’t refute Billy’s arguments. To be sure,
the priest had been in the death-house several times
during my stay, but never had he stopped before
my door.

The utterly forsaken feeling returned. Every
one had turned against me. Every one had for-
gotten me. Even the church—man’s last hope—
had failed me. Again my heart cried out, “You
will die, you will die, you will die!”

CHAPTER 5§

The next day “Bangor Billy” died. And I cried
like a baby. Heshot aman, yousay? Yes, he did,
but Billy was human, despite his criminal record.
Something went wrong at some time in his early
life and steered him into criminal paths. He
learned the criminal code and with that intensity
of feeling that sometimes I think is confined to the
criminal classes, he hated the squealer, the man
who would forsake his friends to save himself.
Who doesn’t despise such a person? The only dif-
ference between Billy and you—or me—is that his
hatred was so great that he killed the object of his
hate. You or I don’t feel with that intensity.

If Billy’s environment had been different. If he
had had the advantages that should be every boy’s
birthright. If—if—if—

Billy was my friend. I’m not ashamed of it.
During the weeks that we were in the death-house
together, Billy did everything he could for me. It
was Billy who always detected my fits of depres-
sion and talked me out of them. It was Billy who
suggested points that might help in our appeal. It
was Billy who always encouraged me. So do you
blame me for letting my nerves give way when I
saw Billy, big, jovial, brave Billy, walk over to the

42 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

save one, the murder was one of passion or emo-
tion. Naturally, there had to be some penalty, but
were the ends of justice furthered by executing
these men?

The one exception I refer to was Albert Wolter.
Undoubtedly he was a psychopathic case. Today,
I hope, Wolter would be sent to a hospital, but
when he was convicted as a murderer, there was
only one answer—the electric chair. Wolter’s
crime was truly atrocious, but in its very atrocious-
ness was evidence of his disordered mind.

According to the evidence brought forward at
the trial, Wolter had advertised for a typist and
requested that applicants call at an address that
turned out to be his apartment. One youngster,
just out of business school, answered the advertise-
ment, knocked timidly on the door, and was admit-
ted to the apartment. She never left it alive.

When she failed to return home, her sister,
knowing where she had gone in search of a job,
called at the apartment. Wolter denied the girl
had been there. The sister, alarmed and suspi-
cious, hurried to the street, called a policeman,
told him the story and begged him to investigate.

To make a long story short, Wolter was arrested
on suspicion, while detectives set about patching
together what meager clues they had. The whole
story finally was unfolded. The young girl had
been murdered by Wolter, who had attempted to
burn her mutilated body in his fireplace! Unsuc-
cessful in this, he had wrapped the body in a

{

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 43

gunny-sack and placed it with the rubbish that
soon was to be collected from the building.

Had the detectives not noticed a strange odor in
Wolter’s apartment, then a freshly painted fire-
place, marks on the fire-escape and an unusual
gunny-sack of “rubbish”—and all within a few
hours after the victim’s sister had first voiced her
suspicions—there would have been no corpus de-
licti and Wolter would have remained free. Un-
der the law, had the detectives not found the body,
it could not have been proved that the girl had
been killed or, for that matter, that she was really
dead!

During the comparatively short time Wolter
was in the death-house, he never mentioned his
crime or his trial. He was in the cell next to mine
and we sometimes played checkers. I noticed that
he could not concentrate on the game. I wondered
whether his mind was filled with the memory of
his fiendish crime—

Another interesting member of the doomed bat-
talion was Sam Austin. If any of you were in-
terested in horse racing twenty-five years ago, you
probably remember him, for he was Tod Sloan’s
rival as premier jockey of the world.

On the day of his most important race against
Sloan, Austin was at the track early. He had
talked with his mount’s owner and trainer, and
was satisfied that he had a good fast track on which
his chances of beating the favorite were more than
equal. Eager and impatient, he waited for the

i
i
'
i

44 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

bugle. About half an hour before the race was
called, a stable boy handed him a note. Had you
been near, you would have seen him pale, then
hurry away. And had you followed him, you
would have seen him hastening toward his home in
Westchester County. Austin would not ride that
day—or ever again.

When he reached home, Austin found that
which had seemed unbelievable when he had read
the note. He had surprised his wife in a liaison.
Faithless! He couldn’t believe it. The wife who
had shared his ambitions, had worked with him
and encouraged him, in the arms of another man.

There was a revolver in the house and Austin,
scarcely knowing what he was doing, shot his wife.

“TI gave myself up to the police,” Austin told me,
“believing that I had been justified. They told me
to keep my mouth shut and they would see what

they could do. They did, all right. Went into

court with a lot of manufactured details, presented
the confession I had made willingly as something
they had wormed out of me, and won a first degree
verdict.

‘And to think, if I hadn’t confessed to them, I
probably could have made a plea of guilty of man-
slaughter with a sentence of five to ten years! I
don’t want to die, Eddie! Good God, I just saw
red when I found she wasn’t true to me. I wasn’t
in my right mind.” He seemed to brighten a bit.
“I think they’ll reverse the decision, though. I’m
appealing it. Don’t you think so, Eddie?”

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 45

What could I say? A self-confessed murderer.
The fact that he immediately rushed home after
receiving the note was evidence of premeditation.
The police who had won recognition for their
prompt action in getting a confession, had built up
a strong case. Areversalandanewtrial? I knew
there wasn’t a chance.

‘We'll hope so, kid,” I answered. “But never
count on anything. Be prepared for the worst,
then anything else will be a pleasant surprise.”

A month later the warden received word that
the appeal had been lost.

Austin was pretty well composed as he walked
toward the little green door. His eyes were swol-
len from crying, but he held his head high. As he
passed my cell he paused.

“Good-by, Eddie. I’ll save a nice long-handled
shovel for you down in Hell.”

“Good-by, Sam!” And the death-house echoed,
“So long, Sam!”

Two other doomed men I remember particu-
larly were the Italians, Pedro Filetta from White
Plains and Philip Montgano from New York. I
will tell you briefly the stories of these two men,
for they illustrate what I mean when I say that
nearly all of the murderers in the death-house were
men who killed under the provocation of passion
or emotion. The gangsters, the cold-blooded pro-
fessional killers, they were still free, terrorizing
the streets of the East Side.

Inddx to pertinent pages:

the THAYER brothers, hanged July 17, 1825 = pp 27-136

Claudius SMIWH, hanged Jan. 22, 1779 = pp 72-80 te aH. ld Th
: fAaro WW. thompson

Indian JOHN, hanged in 1818 = pp 36-39,

Mary ANIONE, hanged Sept. 30, 181) and John |
- ANJONE, hanged Sept. 12, 1823 = pp 39=l)0. a,

GREEN, Henry Gey hanged Sept. 10, 1845 = pp Lhle4l3,

DAMON, Joseph, hanged May 15, 1835 = pp 45-18. B : ; “ys 4

-BRITCHES

J. B. Lippincott Company

_ PHILADELPHIA
NEW YORK - LONDON - TORONTO

1940

\
\

Spruce 74 yo

IV: Sons of Robin Hood

formula for a sort of criminal to whom the folk have always
been romantically inclined. The fact that the outlaw was giv-
ing away money not his own has never been an obstacle in the way of
admiration; he was, at any rate, presenting an object-lesson in distribu-
tion, and his legend afforded an opportunity for the expression of how
the poor folk feel regarding economic inequality. For the rest—he was
usually a striking figure of a man, at least in popular report, always
strong, bold, and defiant. The admiration of the primary virtue of
courage is older than economic theory. .
York State has had a number of outlaws whose legend resembles
Robin Hood’s, but only two bands seem likely to survive in popular
imagination. I refer, of course, to Claudius Smith and his sons in
the eighteenth century, and to George Washington Loomis and his
sons in the nineteenth. There is a considerable amount of verified
fact about each hero and his followers, but for the most part I shall
be following, not unwillingly, stories told at the hearth.
Time was when children were frightened into obedience, particu-
larly in Orange County, by tales of the Scourge of the Highlands.

H Took from the rich and gave to the poor.” That is the old

5 OF ROBIN HOOD -. bh pene 73
t is said that one unfortunate mechanic of adult years was actually
riven insane by a punkinhead-lantern which appeared at his bedroom

window and which to his drowsy terror resembled Claudius Smith.
mith was of English parentage and Tory inclinations. He is said to

~ have been born at Brookhaven, Long Island; another legend con-
“nects him with Southhold. His father encouraged latent proclivities
by showing how to grind out the owner’s initials from two iron wedges

which the lad had stolen. According to the same testimony—that of

"Mistress Abigail Letts—the father’s natural cussedness increased with

age. After he had become blind, he would strike out with his cane at

his wife whenever she came near him, and would even amuse himself

by chasing her about, locating her by the meek voice pleading for
_ mercy. It was this long-suffering woman who prophesied to her son,
“Claudius, you will die like a trooper’s horse, with your shoes on”.

‘As will be seen, the son’s last act deprived her of the slender pleasure

of fulfilled prophecy.

- At some time before the Revolution, the family moved to what

is now Orange County, to a place later known as McKnight’s Mills

~~ in the town of Monroe; for them was named Smith’s Clove, a cleft
~~ in the mountains, sometimes called the Kitchen of the County. A
~ Dutch Justice in Warwick made what may have been the only joke in

a placid life when he ordered a tramp to leave his village. “Where

= shall I go?” asked the wanderer. “To Smith’s Clove, the Kitchen of
the County,” was the reply.

By the time that the Revolution broke out, Claudius Smith had

three sons old enough to join his gang of “Cowboys”—so called be-
cause they stole cattle and drove them to be sold to the British army
~ at Suffern. (Later that region near Suffern was famous for the Jack-
“son Whites, who live in the Ramapo hills, and who may have been
~ recruited partly from the Cowboys.) Beside cattle, Smith stole horses,
~~ muskets, and silver. Just why the Tory and British government at
~~ New York City permitted this sort of freebooting is evident in the

confession of one William Cole, a member of the gang captured a
short time after Smith’s execution. When, under the direction of 2
certain John Mason, a Mrs. Sidman was robbed, her gold watch was
presented to the Mayor of New York; when Mr. Erskine was robbed,

“Mason gave his fine rifle to Lord Cathcart; when the gang robbed

46 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

‘How did you happen to get in here, Pete?” I
asked Filetta soon after he had arrived.

“Ho, ho, dat’s funny question,’ he answered
with a good-natured grin. “I no stay long, just a
leetle rest, da man tell me.

“One night, up in White Plains, I come home
from work late. I go along quick, for I very hon-
gry. Then a leetle Jew feller come out from a
store and grabba me by da arm. ‘Come buya da
suit,’ he say. ‘No,’ I say, ‘I no wanta da suit.’ But
da leetle feller keep pulling. ‘Just takea da look
aroun’,’ he say.

“So I go in store and see da bum suits. I tella
da Jew da suits are bum and he get mad. He make
a beeg fist and punch me in da eye. Dat no good,
so I pull out da knife, give it a little push. He
fall down, da Jew man, and I go out. But another
man come from da back of da store and start yell-
ing. I stop. Then da policeman come an’ J tell
him I just fight back when da Jew man hit me in
da eye.

“Den I tella da judge and my lawyer say, ‘Self-
defense,’ but da judge no believe and he say lotsa
words to jury fellers. Da jury say I keel da Jew
and da prison feller come an’ take me away. He
say I rest for a while an’ he bring me here.

“I guess I go home pretty soon, no?”

Even after the warden had told Pete that his ap-
peal was denied, the Italian did not seem to grasp
the idea that he was to die. It was not until two or
three days before the execution that he seemed to

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 47

comprehend. He became bewildered and gazed
blankly at the rest of us and the guards and officers
who had occasion to visit his cell. Then his bewil-
derment turned to fear; fear that almost paralyzed

him.

When the strong-arm squad came for Pedro,
they had to carry him through the little green
door.

But even Pedro raised his hand in a sort of fare-
well salute.

Philip Montgano was an extremely religious
man. During the entire time he was in the death-
house I never saw him without his rosary in his
hands. And he was well educated. He had been
an interpreter in the marriage license bureau and
was able to speak fluently five languages. One of
the night guards with whom [ was playing check-
ers late one night, told me the story.

One day Montgano had a chance to do a little
extra interpreting and it was late when he arrived
home for dinner. As he sat eating and telling his
wife about the extra five dollars he had earned, one
of his daughters dashed into the room and breath-
lessly announced that she was going out and might
not be back until late.

Looking at her, Montgano noticed with surprise
that she was more elaborately rigged out than he
had ever seen her. A new dress, a new hat, sheer
silk stockings and bright patent-leather pumps.
He couldn’t understand. The Montgano family
was large and Philip’s income was barely enough

48 I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR

I WAS CONDEMNED TO THE CHAIR 49

to keep them all well fed and decently clothed.

_ Where had his daughter got these new clothes?

Uneasy, he followed his fashion-plate daughter
to one of the city’s gay white ways. There he saw
her accosting the young blades who were prome-
nading.

Good God, his daughter a street-walker! The
daughter of whom he had been so proud, the
daughter for whom he had slaved and for whom
he would have given his life, selling herself for
fine clothes!

If I were to describe the scene between Mont-
gano and his daughter it would sound like cheap
melodrama. To Philip it was the whole world
crashing about his head. The thing he valued
above all else, the good name of his daughter, was
gone. There was only one answer. He jerked a
revolver from his pocket and the girl who loved
clothes more than a good name, fell.

“When does he go?” I asked the guard who had
told me the story.

“Tomorrow night.”

“Well, he seems to be taking it easily. I haven’t
seen him do anything but count his rosary and read
the Bible for the last few days.”

“Yeah,” snorted the guard as he shot a stream of
tobacco juice in front of my cell (a breach of con-
duct for which I knew I’d be blamed next morn-
ing!) “those guys with their praying and their
beads give me a pain in the neck. Well, he won’t
need ’em after tomorrow!”

The next night the cell door shades again were
drawn. The black-robed priest entered Mont-
gano’s cell; I could hear them praying. There
was a rattle, the sound of footsteps and the voice of
the deputy warden.

' “Take him away!”

Montgano had lost his nerve. The strong-arm
squad had to pick him up and carry him to the
execution-chamber. The straps were quickly
tightened, the helmet slipped over his head. A
signal. The executioner pulled the switch.

Old Philip Montgano had paid the price of his
daughter’s honor!

And he hadn’t even said, ‘“‘So long, boys!”

Summer had come and gone and Christmas was
approaching when, one day, the warden came in
and told me that my lawyer wanted to see me. I
was overjoyed. Action, possibly release from the
death-house!

Col. Haire greeted me with his usual jovial
smile, while I was so excited I scarcely could talk
intelligibly.

‘Eddie, I have filed my brief with the district
attorney and now all we have to do is wait for his
brief and the action of the Court of Appeals. And
I want to tell you, now that I have completed my
side of the case I feel even more certain of our
position. Wecan’t lose. You'll be out of here one
of these days, sure as shooting.

78 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

him as a Robin Hood. As a principal historian of Orange County was
to say in his stately manner: “It is believed that much of what he
extracted from the wealthy he bestowed upon the indigent.” I have
little evidence of his generosity, as I have said, but I have more of
the generosity of the folk toward a ruffian. His capture while snoring
in a tavern was too ignoble for a hero; the folk, therefore, have a
more “gallus” version, as follows: Driven by hostile hordes up onto
Sugar Loaf Mountain, Claudius was finally forced out of a crevice
in which he had hidden. “Surrender or we’ll shoot!” shouted his
bloodthirsty pursuers. Stepping grandly up onto a log, he replied,
“Shoot and be damned!” They: took the first part of his advice, shot
him in the legs, and bore him off to the Goshen gallows. Too bad it
isn’t true.

The gang still menaced. Claudius and his son William were dead,
the son James and two others are said to have been executed shortly
after, but Richard lived to avenge his father. Says the Fishkill Packet
of April 28, 1779: “We hear from Goshen that a horrible murder
was committed near the Stirling iron works on the night of Saturday,
the 27th of March, by a party of villains, 5 or 6 in number, the
principal of whom was Richard Smith, eldest surviving son of the late
Claudius Smith, of infamous memory, his eldest son having been shot
last fall at Smith’s Clove.” Having coldly planned the murder of
two men, the gang went to the house of John W. Clark, dragged
him out of doors, and shot him. One said, “He is not dead enough
yet”, then shot him again—through the arm—and left him. Clark
lived long enough to give the names of his murderers, who by this
time had proceeded to the house of a second intended victim whose
name is withheld by the newspaper. Hearing a noise, this intrepid
man stood on defence in the corner of his little log cabin, his bayonet
fixed and his gun cocked. When the door was broken in, he presented
so formidable an appearance that the gang “thought proper to march
off’, At Clark’s house, pinned to the victim’s coat, was found the
following:

A Warning to the Rebels. You are hereby warned at your peril to
desist from hanging any more friends to government as you did Claudius
Smith. You are warned likewise to use James Smith, James Flewwelling,

te 5 “

SONS OF ROBIN HOOD 79

and William Cole well, and ease their irons, for we are determined to
hang six for one, for the blood of the innocent cries aloud for vengeance.
- Your noted friend, Capt. Williams, and his crew of robbers and mur-
derers, we have got in our power, and the blood of Claudius Smith shall
be repaid. There are particular companies of us who belong to Col.
Butler’s army, Indians as well as white men, and particularly numbers
from New York, that are resolved to be avenged on you for your cruelty
and murder. We are to remind you that you are the beginners and
aggressors, for by your cruel oppressions and bloody actions you drive
us to it. This is the first, and we are determined to pursue it on your
heads and leaders to the last, till the whole of you are murdered.

What happened to “Flewwelling” I do not know. Apparently
"James Smith was executed; and while the rufhans were demanding
tenderness for William Cole, he was turning State’s evidence in 2
confession which must have made red faces in the city of New York.
- Richard Smith seems to have stayed in New York State until the end
_ of the Revolution, when he transferred his talents to Nova Scotia.
~~ Accounts of Clark’s death continued to inflame the patriots, one being
~~ that he had been led out of doors, stripped of outer garments, told
to go back into the house, and then shot in the back.

To me the most memorable of all the Smith stories is yet to be
told—that which recounts the gallantry of Miss Phebe Reynolds of
Monroe, aged twelve, one of the real heroines of the Revolution.
The avengers of Claudius Smith came to her father’s house, but
found the doors so sturdy that they crawled up onto’ the roof with
the evident intention of climbing down the great chimney. One of
the ladies had the presence of mind to rip the cover off a pillow and
throw the feathers onto the fire. Breathing suffocating smoke and

- vengeance, the Cowboys retired.

The second attempt was made in July of 1782, when a gang led
by Benjamin Kelley and Philip Roblin, and pretending to be a de-
tachment sent by Washington in search of deserters, appeared at
the same home. As soon as he opened the door and realized who his
visitors were, Reynolds attempted to escape. The resultant noise
aroused his wife, his seven children, and a lad who lived with them.
In the presence of these innocents, the gang cut Reynolds with knives
and swords, then hung him by the neck on the trammel-pole of the

80 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

fireplace. While the ruffians were searching for valuables, little Phebe
cut the rope and got her father upon a bed. Discovering what she had
done, the gang whipped her with the rope until they supposed her
to be “disabled”, then hung up Reynolds for a second time. Again
she rescued him; whereupon the outlaws went at him with their
knives and swords until they were sure he was dead. After destroying
his papers and taking whatever valuables he had, they departed,
fastening the door on the outside and setting the house on fire. In-
credible as it seems, Phebe managed to put out the fire and to staunch
her father’s wounds. In the morning she alarmed the neighborhood
so early that shortly after sunrise an avenging band was off to the
mountains in pursuit of the gang. A neighbor named June had the
fortune to shoot Benjamin Kelley, whose body was later recovered
and identified by a suit of Quaker clothes which he had stolen from
Reynolds. Meanwhile a surgeon was at work on the thirty wounds
of Reynolds and was sewing on an ear that healed in such a way that
‘ he was “disfigured”; one hand was so badly cut. that he never re-
covered its use. It is pleasant to add that he lived to see his eighty-
fifth year; and that little Phebe, after the family’s removal to Sulli-
van County, married a man named Jeremiah Drake and failed by
only a year of enjoying as long a life as her sturdy sire’s.

In 1804 or 1805, some of Smith’s descendants came from Canada
to search for what they called his treasure, and are said to have re-
covered the muskets but no pewter plates and no silver. About 1824,
two descendants of Edward Roblin came across the border with what
they believed to be better information but departed unsatisfied. So
Claudius Smith’s treasure, like Kidd’s, still allures those who like to
dig for ill-got gains.

There is a final story about the Scourge of the Highlands. His
body is said to have been buried in the grounds of the Presbyterian
Church at Goshen. One day a lame man penetrated the grave with
his crutch, leaving it indecorously exposed. The bones were removed
to a shop to be reinterred, but evidently were neglected. Some time
later, a blacksmith, when asked to make a carving knife, found that
he had no buckhorn for the handle but contrived a substitute; so
somebody in Orange County may still have a knife whose handle
was made from a thighbone of aaa

- $ONS OF ROBIN HOOD : 81

For an introduction to our other gang of famous bandits let me
quote from a report transmitted shortly before the close of the Civil
War to the State Legislature from the Prison Association of New

’ York:

There is a family residing in Oneida County, who, according to com-

“mon fame, have followed the profession of thieving for nearly twenty

years. They have grown rich by their unlawful practices. Their children
are educated in the best and most expensive seminaries. They dress gen-
teelly, their manners are somewhat polished, and they appear tolerably
well in society. Their operations are carried on through the counties of

~ Oneida, Oswego, Otsego, Madison, Chenango, Schoharie, Delaware and

Sullivan. They have numerous well trained confederates in all those
counties, who are ready by day or by night, at a moment’s warning, to
ride off in any direction for the sake of plunder, or for the concealment
or protection of associates who are in danger of falling into the meshes
of the law. These men have been indicted times without number in the
above mentioned counties, but none of them have ever been convicted,
nor have any of them ever been in jail for a longer time than was suffi-
cient for a bondsman to arrive at the prison. It is generally believed that
there are farmers, apparently respectable, who belong to the gang and
share in its profits. Whether this be so or not, it is certain that whenever
bail is needed, any required number of substantial farmers will come
forward and sign their bonds, without regard to the amount of the
penalty. These men, as might be supposed, exert a great political in-
fluence, and it is well understood that they are always ready to reward
thei: friends and punish their enemies, both in primary conventions and
at the polls. Although, as we have said, they have been repeatedly
indicted, yet the number of their indictments bears but a small ratio to
the number of their depredations. It usually happens that any one who
is particularly active in bringing any of the gang to justice has his barn
or dwelling soon after burned, or his horses are missing from the stable,
or his sheep or cattle from the pasture. These things have happened so
often that people are careful how they intermeddle in the matter of
seeking to bring them to justice. If a person so intermeddling happens
to have a mortgage on his property, it is apt to be very soon foreclosed.
If he has political aspirations, thousands of unseen obstacles interpose
to prevent the fulfillment of his hopes. If he is a trader, his custom falls
off. If he is a physician, malpractice is imputed to him, or other malicious
stories are circulated to his discredit; and at length matters come to such

74 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES
Muster-Master General Ward, Lord Cathcart gave them one hundred

guineas. Cole names sixteen men who have harbored the outlaws, in-
cluding Edward Roblin and Benjamin Kelley in the Clove—two of
Smith’s lieutenants; he is evidently speaking of the organization re-
cently headed by Claudius. He says that they have three different
caves, each of which will “contain” eight persons. He adds that there
is a similar gang across the Hudson, on the east side.

With this farflung organization, protected and abetted by the
British authorities, pretending to be on the side of order against the
rebels, Claudius Smith felt so secure that he said to J. Harvey Bull
of the Clove: “Here I stand like a pillar of old St. Paul’s Church and
defy any man to move me.” The “rebels” were not slow to accept this
challenge. In July, 1777, he is on the records as a prisoner in King-
ston jail, “charged with stealing oxen belonging to the continent”.
According to one tradition, he escaped on the way to the Goshen jail,
or at the Goshen jail; according to another, he was on the road to
Kingston from Goshen when he was rescued by his band. In either
case, he had one foretaste of what punishment awaited him.

So far as his personality was concerned, he seemed to live up to
some of the qualifications for a Robin Hood. He was slippery when
caught; he was bold, wily, “of large stature and powerful nerve
(muscle), of keen penetration”. But the stories of his kindness are
dubious, to say the least. The one incident oftenest told is his gal-
lantry to Mistress McClaughry. Her husband, a colonel in the
Patriot army, was taken prisoner by the British after the capture of
Fort Montgomery. From New York he wrote to ask his wife for
money, perhaps for comforts and necessities, perhaps, as another
version says, for ransom. Having no “hard money”, she tried to bor-
row from rich Abimal Youngs, who lived up to a reputation for
careful management by answering that he had none to lend. Even
after the poor lady had pawned her silver shoe-buckles, she could not
raise the sum requested. Hearing of this piteous situation, Robin
Hood Smith made a nocturnal visit to Youngs, hung him to his own
well-pole, and asked where his money could be found. When the
miser showed a disagreeable willingness to die rather than tell, Smith
_appropriated bonds and other valuable papers and rode away with

: cautionary measure Roblin was jailed for debt, though he claim:

SONS OF ROBIN HOOD | a5

is gang. I am not sure that Mistress McClaughry profited by this act

‘of alleged gallantry.

The other favorite story of Smith’s generosity is also a sequel to

‘the fall of Fort Montgomery. Judge Bodle, later of Tompkins
‘County, was wearily trudging away from the disaster when he met
‘Smith, who addressed him heartily: “Good day, Mr. Bodle. You

e weary with walking. Go to my dwelling yonder and ask my wife

to give you breakfast. Tell her I sent you.” Bodle thanked him, pro-
ceeded toward the house till Smith was out of sight, then walked
rapidly in another direction.
Those who have difficulty in illustrating Smith’s bounty are likely
=. to cite his lieutenant, Edward Roblin of the Clove, whose story, as
~~ told by C. E. Stickney in 1867, certainly has romantic elements. This
“hopeful youth can be made a figure of sentiment by stressing his
_ elopement with the daughter of his employer, an old man nam
Price, a person who thought (quite rightly, I believe) that yours
: ~ Roblin was a dubious bargain. The old gentleman came up with tir
-. young couple just as a parson was about to marry them. As 2 >

that the sum mentioned was not money advanced as a loan but 5

= just due for labor. During the months of Roblin’s incarceration, Mi:

Price consented to marry her father’s choice, whereat her former lov
eloped with the jailor’s daughter and the jailor’s gelding, leaving t
limb of a tree with the note, “As yours was a chestnut horse, the «
change is fair, for this is a horse-chestnut.” It was Roblin who head

that part of Smith’s gang which stole muskets and pewter pla

from American army-wagons. The folk remembered that one rob’
shot during the foray was never buried by his companions.

As time passed and his thieving prospered, Smith seems to he
grown less and less urbane; he even swore to kill certain emin
Patriots—Colonel Jesse Woodhull, Mathew Strong, Samuel Stro
and Cole Curtis. When, as a preliminary to more drastic measu:
he announced that he would steal the Colonel’s mare, the prud:
Patriot had her stabled in the cellar. While the family and gue
were at tea, they were startled to hear Smith’s whoop, and reali:
that somehow he had got the mare out of the cellar and was rid:
away on her. When a guest pointed his ready rifle at Smith, ¢

76 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

Colonel knocked it up, exclaiming: “For heaven’s sake, don’t fire!
If you miss him, he will kill me.” .

If Smith knew how he had been saved, he was nevertheless im-
placable: he decided to kill the Colonel anyway because he was “such
a darned rebel”. When the outlaw next visited, on October 6, 1777,
the Colonel was away with his regiment, and his shrewd wife had
hidden the silver under her child in the cradle. After the gang had
broken open the door and while they were searching the house, she
sat by the cradle soothing the child, who prettily asked whether the
bad men were going to steal her calico dress. Disappointed of body
and booty, the gang soon departed, taking a horse left at the Colonel’s
by a neighbor. | ,

Other events of that night were not in the vein of comedy. About
midnight the Cowboys arrived at Major Nathaniel Strong’s, where
the family was sleeping soundly. Unfortunately this “darned rebel”
was at home. As the outside door crashed inward and a panel was
smashed into the Major’s bedroom, he armed himself with pistols and
gun. As he entered the “inside room”, unharmed by a shot fired
through the window, he looked so formidable that a parley ensued.
Smith’s gang promised that if Strong would lay down his arms, he
would not be injured. Putting down his gun, he advanced toward the
door as if to open it, when two bullets fired through a broken panel
pierced his heart. It was sheer murder, without even the usual justifi-
cation of booty, for all that was found to take away was a saddle and
bridle.

This stupid outrage, which must have been a little too overt even
for the rufhans who protected and abetted Smith, unloosed the fury
of a long-suffering countryside. The State Assembly (Continental)
took up the case. On October 31, 1777, Governor George Clinton
offered $1200 for the capture of Claudius, and $600 each for his
sons Richard and James. A son William and another member of the
gang were shot in the mountains that autumn, perhaps before the
Governor’s proclamation. Even the cranky old grandfather had a
horse shot under him as he was returning from taking provisions to
a hideout. (This, by the way, disposes of the story that he was blind,
but not of the charge that he caned his wife.) Claudius evidently

SONS OF ROBIN HQOD 77

realized that the Highlands and the Ramapos were getting too hot;
at any rate, he decamped to Long Island. :
Unfortunately for his peaceful residence, a Major John Brush
‘recognized him at his new abode, slipped over to Connecticut, col-
lected four assistants, and caught Smith sleeping upstairs in a tavern.
After a struggle the party crossed the Sound and took their prisoner
to Fishkill Landing, New York, where the Sheriff of Orange County
met the outlaw and escorted him to Goshen, attended by a troop of
light-horse commanded, appropriately, by a Woodhull. At the Goshen
jail Claudius was manacled, and guarded night and day until his
execution.
- Smith’s trial on January 13, 1779, was not for murder, a charge
hard to prove and complicated by the Cowboy’s military status—if
any. He was indicted “for burglary at the house of John Earle; for
robbery at the house of Ebenezer Woodhull; for robbery of the
dwelling and stillhouse of William Bell”. Asked whether he had
-7 anything to say about the verdict, he replied: “No. If God Almighty
= = cannot change your hearts, I cannot.” It was decided that he should
:.. be hanged on January 22nd with a horse-thief and a burglar; another
account says that no less than five associates were hanged with him,
including a woman. There is no doubt that the principal character
- played his réle to the satisfaction of a large audience. Dressed in a
handsome suit of broadcloth with silver buttons, the tall outlaw had
made his last graceful bows to former neighbors when he was ad-
dressed by an elderly person who elbowed his way to the scaffold.
“Mr. Smith, Mr. Smith,” he called, “where shall I find those deeds
and other papers that you-er—had from me?” Smith turned his
- gaze from the hills from whence his help did not come—to Abimal
Youngs, the miser. “Mr. Youngs,” he said, “this is no time to talk
about papers. Meet me in the next world, and I'll tell you about
them.”

His final jest was better remembered but less suave. Looking off
toward the empty hills again, he must have remembered his mother’s
warning, “Claudius, you will die like a troopers horse, with your
shoes on.” He kicked off his shoes. “This,” he said, “is to prove my

mother a false prophetess and a liar.” Then they hanged him.
No doubt there were people present who immediately spoke of

Behe

428 | BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHEs

from the jail: the Sheriff, judges, members of the bar, clergy, officers
of the village, invited guests, mourners, a cart bearing three coffins,
and finally the three prisoners wearing white shrouds and caps. To
the beat of muffled drums they marched to a gallows erected on Court
Street, about fifty yards east of Morgan. __

During prayers the boys knelt at seats provided (briefly) for them,
and their fortitude held out well during the “short discourse” which
followed. Then, with only two or three minutes left to live, they
“seemed to lose command of their feelings” and asked a surgeon
standing near to bleed them to mitigate their sufferings. He dissuaded
them and encouraged them to meet their fate. They shook hands with
those on the platform, bade farewell to each other, and “in a few
interrupted accents commended themselves to their God”. There
followed the swift consummation for which thirty thousand specta-
tors had waited. A year which saw the opening of the Erie Canal
and the visit of LaFayette had provided a third great show for the
“western” village.

The Thayer case might be entitled “Murder on the Frontier, or
the Death of the Wandering Usurer”; it illustrates, with primitive
background, that frequent cause for homicide in all societies, the
Greed for Gold. Only such specialists in the art of murder as William
Roughead and Alexander Woollcott would enjoy all the details pre-
served in two ballads, four pamphlets, and various newspaper ac-
counts. Only as much need be told as will serve for preface to the
more entertaining of the ballads, an illiterate masterpiece vended on
the streets for a penny. You need to know that at the time of their
execution the three Thayers were only twenty-one, twenty-three and
twenty-five years of age; that they had migrated with their father,
“whose moral sentiments were of the loosest kind”, from Massa-
chusetts to the hamlet of Boston, New York, near Buffalo; that they
“prided themselves on notoriety”, wore bonnets instead of hats or
caps, spent their evenings in shooting out candles or frequenting a
tavern, and scandalized their neighbors further by calling their oxen
by Holy Names.

Their victim was an Englishman named John Love, who had
served on the American frigate Constitution, had wandered across

MURDERERS : 429

York State to engage in the “carrying trade” on Lake Erie, and hed
spent his winters in rural retirement, “trading and trafhcking with his
money”. Here enters Usury. Two years before the murder, he had
lent the Thayers about sixty dollars; by renewing notes often and by
charging interest exorbitant even on the frontier, he had increased
the debt to two hundred and fifty dollars, a sum which the thriftless
farmers were totally unable to pay. Finally the Thayers agreed that
Israel and Nelson should put their property into the hands of Isazc,
the youngest, and that he should “confess judgment” to the usurer,
whereupon Love should levy upon the entire property. Later, Nelson
Thayer explained the crime which he had proposed by declaring tha:
“Love obtained almost all the property for small favors... and
then threatened to take it from them and send them to State’s Prison
besides”.

Upon that lonely frontier the death of a wandering usurer might
have gone unpunished if the Thayers had so far conquered their own
greed as to be content with saving their land. What they did, how-
ever, was to sell their victim’s “pumpkin and milk cologed colz”.
With stupidity even more insolent, Isaac Thayer went about tryinz
to collect debts due to Love, presenting a forged power-ofattorney.
Rather a grim soul, young Isaac. Passing a rope-factory of his way
to jail, he inquired: “Do you suppose they have got a hemp ene there?
I should hate dam’dly to be hanged with a flax rope!” Hecould not
guess that his worthy father, who had taken no active part in the
murder, was soon to aid searchers for Love’s body by asking, “Have
they looked on the hill?” The Thayers were all pretty stepid. The
only male member of the family who arouses any compassiogis young
Isaac, at whose house the crime was committed. Though he haf wielded
neither rifle nor pork-cleaver, the weapons used by his brthers, he
was so haunted by bloody memory that he used to get a boysf eleven
out of bed to accompany him to the barn when he gave fe horses
their evening meal. _

As I said, two ballads about the crime were hawked thyugh the
streets of Buffalo. One of them, a comparatively literate md very
pious performance of twenty-seven stanzas, need net deta us be-
yond a quotation of its opening lines:

434

BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

And then to hide the wicked deed,
When she’d the murder done,
It seems the husband he agree’d
That it should not be known.

And then with speed they did prepare
A grave to hide the man;

And thus with secrecy and care
Conceal’d the cruel plan.

But Providence would them detect,
Therefore it was in Vain;

And in a way you’d not expect
The secret was made plain.

The mother from the pedler’s pack
Did make the little girl

A beauteous handkerchief and Frock
Which she did wear to school.

The mistress she admir’d the same,
And of it wish’d to buy;
She ask’d the girl from whence it came,

The child made this Reply:

She said her Mother had a store
Of articles like these,

And others she had many more,
That might the Madam please.

The Mistress by the child did send
To see if she could trade,

Nor knew what mischief would await
The errand that she made.

The mother she quite ang’ry grew
Against the little girl;

Because by her the neighbors knew
That she had goods to sell.

™ " a Sern ee ee es
ceneiiinirenitik: eauunnanc Sls bth a ee i NN ATI tna te AC A lly AB ASE BBO SF x.

MURDERERS

She to her husband then did say,
The child will bring us out;

Therefore her life we’ll take away,
And this will end the doubt.

They did devise the barb’rous plan,
That he should dig her grave;
And she would send her to him then

To bury her alive!

So when he had the grave prepar’d
The child was sent with speed;

But then he thought he could not bare
To do the cruel deed.

At this the Mother’s anger flew—
She would Revenged be;

She said she’d try what she could do,
O what a wretch was she!

She het the oven blazing hot,
And then in angry Fraim

Her infants cries she heeded not,
But plung’d it in the flame!

But soon a neighbor chanc’d to come,
The scent did fill the house;
He Kindly ask’d what had been done,

Or what might be the case.

The woman answer’d so abrupt,
He did some crime suspect;
And in the oven then he look’d,
Which did the crime detect.
But O may all a warning take
From this base tragidy;
And Know that life, and soul’s at stake,
If they from Virtue flee.

435

426 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

One, two, three sweet kisses,
Four, five, six you hook.
Bethinking that, you robber,
Give back those you took.
Then as home you hurry.
From the fair one’s sight,
[How] you wish each day was
[Sparking] Sunday night.

fee ; ————

MS PP fe

ASS Sub
“« Roe - a === Za

XVII: Kurderers

were crowded; the whole Niagara frontier was coming te

see the three Thayers hanged by the neck until dead. As
Judge Reuben H. Walworth of the 4th Circuit—later the famous
Chancellor—came stepping stately from his lodging, be met York
State’s greatest orator, Red Jacket of the Senecas, striding away from
the village. “Aren’t you going to the hanging?” asked the Judge, ev:
dently piqued to learn that so distinguished a contemporary was unap
preciative of the entertainment provided by the Judge’s own Court
“Fools enough there now,” grumbled Red Jacket. “The place to see
men die is battle.”

At nine o’clock the militia formed for parade, weating new un:
forms with crossed shoulder belts, shakoes gay with bli pompons
They were preceded by the Buffalo Village Band, meking a firs
public appearance. At ten, the military came to rest way the oki
stone jail, a building of two stories surrounded by a figh wooder
palisade—one of the few structures which had survived the burnin:
of Buffalo by the British twelve years before. At noos the soldier:
formed a hollow square to receive the procession which emerged

427

AN pawn of June 17, 1825, the roads into the village of Buffalo

430

BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

Again the murderers’ ruthless hand
Has stained with blood our happy land;
Again the hapless victim dies

To lust of gain a sacrifice.

With these lines as motto, you are prepared for whatever enjoyment
may be found in the other ballad, A Song of the Time:

In England sevrel years a go

the seen was plesent fair and gay

John Love on bord of a Ship he entred
and Sald in to a merica

Love was a man very persevering
in making trades with all he see
He soon in gaged to be a Sailor
to sail up and down on lake Erie

he then went in to the Southern countries
to trade for furs and other skins

but the cruel French and savage Indias
come very near of killing him

But God did spare him a little longer
he got his loding and come down the lake
he went in to the town of Boston

whare he made the grate mistake

with Nelson Thair he made his station
thrue the sumer thare to stay

Nelson had two brothers Isaac and Israel
Love lent money for thare debts to pay

Love lent them quite a sum of money

he did befriend them every way

but the cruel cretres tha coulden be quiet
till tha had taken his sweet life a way

One day as tha ware all three to geher
this dredful murder tha did contrive

tha agreed to kill Love and keep it secret
and then to live and spend thare lives

MURDERERS 431

"On the fifteenth evening of last decembéf

in eighteen hundred and twent four
thain vited Love to come home with th®!?
and tha killed and murdered him on th" floor

First Isaac with his gun he shot him
He left his gun and went away

then Nelson with his ax he chopt him
till he had no life that he could perceve

After tha had killed him and most mortly” brused him
tha drawed him our [out] whare tha killd their hogs
tha then caried him of apease from the hor 8¢

and deposited him down by a log

the next day tha were so very bold

tha had Love’s horse ariding round

som askd the reason of Love being absent =
tha sed he had clrd and left the town

tha sed he had forgd in the town of Erie
the sherief was in persuit of him

he left his place and run a way

and left his debts to colect by them

tha went and forgd a pour of turney
to collect loves notes whe tha ware due
tha tore and stormd to git thare pay
and sevel nabors tha did sue

after tha had run to ahie degree

in killing Love and in forgery

tha soon were taken and put in prison
whare tha remaind for thare creulty

tha ware bound im irons in the dark dungon ®™
for to ramin for a little time

tha ware all condemd by the grand Jury

for this most foul and dredful crime

ial Tl cD > ton

bg ae

diac ae ek i as =. “ ag pee ee ee %
Gaels race Po Se eae See ree AT Re ge ee SLiBis i : a
ne ee PS a as he TR: apa i, i EL ee ee CO ST) Ss SEE ana

116 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

piece of silver, two pounds Sterling, one penny, fifty-two shillings
in English copper half-pence, and several pair of pinch back but-
tons.”*? Lee was caught and indicted for his crime; but James
Mills, the sheriff of New York, negligently allowed him to es-
cape.** The plunder was recovered, but the criminal himself eluded
prosecution.

Not all thieves were lucky enough to escape, and some were ac-
quitted only to find themselves under indictment in another colony.
David Smith, for example, who was acquitted with his wife Eliza-
beth on two counts of burglary in New York in April of 1767,
was immediately remanded to the custody of the Sheriff of Phila-
delphia where he had allegedly committed “divers Fellonies.”*°
There were no formal extradition procedures in the colonies, since
there was no precedent in English legal experience.** In a case like
Smith’s, extradition was entirely dependent upon informal com-
munication between local officials. There are many examples of
such communication—especially when an individual proved per-
sistently troublesome in several localities. The case of David Smith
and that of Owen Sullivan discussed earlier in this chapter are
examples of how effective such communication could be despite
the lack of any formal procedural mechanisms.*°
(“But most thieves found the pickings in New York to be more
than adequate to their needs, as one Mary Daily proved repeatedly
between 1767 and 1771. She first appeared in court in October of
1767 on trial for burglary and grand larceny. She was acquitted of
the burglary indictment but convicted of grand larceny. Although
this was a capital offense, she received benefit of clergy and was

31 King vs. Edward Lee, S.C.M. (Aug. 1, 1752).

32 King vs. James Mills, S.C.M. (Aug. 2, 1752).

38 King vs. David and Elizabeth Smith, et al., S.C.M. (April 28, 1767).

34 See Julius Goebel, Jr., and T. Raymond Naughton, Law Enforcement
in Colonial New York, 288-293.

85 For one example of such cooperation between local officials, see the
following: Kempe Papers, Lawsuits A-B, a warrant for the return of “two
Indians” in Rhode Island to Albany to stand trial for murder (May 1,
1762).

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts ii

accordingly branded on the thumb. The following summer she was
on trial again—this time for petit larceny and with two accomplices
—but the Attorney-General dropped the case. She was on good
behavior for the next year or so when, in October of 1769, she was
indicted for petit larceny. But in January of 1770 the Attorney-
General once again entered a nolle prosequi, and the case was
dropped. Four months later Mary Daily was on trial once more.
She was found guilty of grand larceny and received a moderate
whipping of twenty-one lashes. This was most fortunate, since
grand larceny was a capital offense; and having already received
benefit of clergy, Daily might have been sentenced to hang.

By now, one would think, Mary Daily might have been more
prudent, for the hangman’s noose was uncomfortably close, but
she chose to tempt fate once more and, in October of 1770, she was
convicted of petit larceny for the second time. The patience of the
court was running low, and this time she was punished with a
whipping of thirty-nine lashes. Thus, Mary Daily had appeared
five times on theft charges of one kind or another when, in April
of 1771, she was arrested for burglary. She pleaded not guilty, but
her luck had run out, and on April 27, 1771, she was sentenced
to hang.3¢_/

Mary Daily’s story is not a happy one, and we can only specu-
late about the forces which brought her to the gallows. Surely the
fact that she was unmarried, unskilled, and unemployed drove her
to thievery; but as to specific circumstances, the records are silent.
Fortunately, there is somewhat more information available in the
case of another woman, Anna Maria Cockin, who was accused of
murdering her own newly born infant. She confessed that “great
poverty [had] forced her to commit fornication with Joe the Negro
Man,” and then while she was in labor with his child, she had

36 King vs. Mary Daily, S.C.M. (Oct. 24, 26, 31, 1767); King vs. Mary
Daily, ibid. (July 29, 1768); King vs. Mary Daily, ibid. (Oct. 24, 1769, and
Jan. 20, 1770); King vs. Mary Daily, ibid. (April 27-28, 1770); King vs.
Mary Daily, ibid. (Aug. 4, 1770, and Oct. 22, 26, 1770); and King rs.
Mary Daily, ibid. (April 22, 24, 27, 1771).

106 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

of them was a vagabond of sorts, moving from one place to another
without taking or finding employment. Only Jubeart enjoyed a
stable family life, and even he lost several children and a wife in
the period just before he became a counterfeiter. All of these men
were alienated from the society in which they lived. They formed
no permanent attachments and never participated in the public life
of the towns and villages where they resided. Their disaffection
was perhaps more severe than most, but it was no accident that
each of their “dying speeches” referred to family life and its vir-
tues. Nor was it a coincidence that their obligatory references to
religion emphasized the social value of Christian fellowship. Liv-
ing in a society in the process of undergoing significant change,
none of these condemned men was able to find a suitable niche for
himself.

To some degree, of course, all criminals are alienated from
society at large. But it is also true that criminals are disaffected
with their specific society, not merely with the abstraction of
Human Society. Therefore, a common pattern in the lives and be-
havior of criminals in a society may reflect something of the
nature of the society itself. And indeed, the life stories of these
capital offenders suggest some of the most important dimensions of
life in the eighteenth-century colonies.

An underlying theme in these autobiographies is the extraordi-
nary physical mobility enjoyed by each of these men. Not only did
they travel freely and often between colonies—indeed, none of
them was really a permanent resident of New York or any other
colony—but also they were able to travel outside the country—to
England and back—with relative ease. Historians have long recog-
nized that America afforded unprecedented opportunities for phys-
ical mobility by reason of its social and economic institutions as
well as the wide availability of land. More recently, students of
early America have begun to appreciate the potentially disruptive
effects of mobility.2° But we also need to recognize that the honest

10 See Philip J. Greven, Jr., Four Generations: Population, Land, and

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts 107

tradesman or farmer as much as the criminal benefited from the
possibility of moving easily from one place to another. It migpt
permit a man to escape a nagging wife, as it did for Owen Suili-
van; or it might allow him to avoid the payment of debts, as it did
for John Clarkwright. Perhaps it would allow him to steal with
impunity, as it did for Francis Personel, or to ignore the admoni-
tion of punishment, as it did for John Campbell. It might even
allow a man to exorcise his own personal devils, as in the case of
John Jubeart. But whatever its specific impact, the general effect of |
physical mobility was to grant the felon a certain freedom from
social stricture which made him bolder, and thereby more danger-
ous to society. Geographic mobility was a mixed blessing in Amer-
ica—not only because it tended to encourage the dissolution of
small, stable, open-field villages, but also because it made it possi-
ble for persons bent on crime to escape more easily the informal as
well as the formal restraints which held in check what one minister
called “that Tyranny which the unbridled Lust of abandon’d
Sinners exercises over their rational Powers.”**

The biographical details which condemned prisoners offered on
the gallows have great value, but very few such memoirs are ex-
tant. As a result we know considerably less (though still some-
thing) about most of the other men and women who were tried in
New York’s criminal courts. It is difficult to reconstruct the lives
of most defendants, but it is possible to sketch with some detail the
kinds of crimes they committed. There is, moreover, ample evi-

Family in Colonial Andover, Massachusetts (Ithaca, 1970); Kenneth A.
Lockridge, A New England Town, The First Hundred Years: Dedham,
Massachusetts, 1636-1736 (New York, 1970); Kenneth A. Lockridge,
“Land, Population, and the Evolution of New England Society, 1630-1790,”
Past and Present, 39 (1965), 62-80; and Richard L. Bushman, From Puri-
tan to Yankee: Character and the Social Order in Connecticut, 1690-1765
(Cambridge, 1967).

11 Chauncey Graham, God will trouble the troublers of his people. A
sermon preached at Poughkeepsie in Dutchess-County, in the Province of
New-York, July 14th, 1758. Being the day of the execution of Hugh
Gillaspie, for Felony . . . Published at the request of the hearers (New
York, 1759).

' = . ‘*
ae ee

108 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

dence that defendants were as diverse in background as the crimes
they committed, and considerable evidence can also be marshaled
to provide some notion of conditions in New York’s jails and of
the treatment of prisoners as their cases moved through the court
system.

Men and women were brought to the courts of colonial New
York on a variety of criminal charges, as we have seen; but the
most common grounds for prosecution were acts of personal vio-
lence. Within this category, however, there was considerable diver-
sity, and the nature of such acts varied widely. The courts tried
every sort of assault, from overzealous family arguments to rapes
and attempted murder. People from all walks of life and all strata of
society were tried for these crimes. Several examples may illustrate
the wide variety of circumstances from which such prosecu-
tions arose.

One of the most common sources of complaint was servants who
besought the courts to relieve them of the severe treatment they
received from their masters. For example, Richard Caine wrote to
Attorney-General William Kempe that he was “more miserable by
the hard usage of my master and mistress than any Negro slave.”
Caine went on to tell a story of incredible cruelty complete with
shackles, a bread and water diet, and solitary confinement.?? Both
William Kempe and his son and successor as Attorney-General,
John Tabor Kempe, received a host of similar letters. One man,
Andrew Francks, had been sent to the colonies as a convict. He
was bound to Stephen Wilkins, a New York City ropemaker, and
soon wrote the younger Kempe that Wilkins was attempting to
“make a Slave of [him]’; moreover, “the Cruel Usage and Mis-
treatments” he had received were so great that he could not
describe them with words.?*

12 Richard Caine to William Kempe (Oct. 23, 1754), Kempe Papers,
Box IV, William Kempe Letters, “Armstrong-Correy.”
13 Andrew Francks to John Tabor Kempe (Oct. 4, 1772), Kempe Papers,

emer aan emma ane

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts 109

Both Caine and Francks made explicit comparisons to the inferior
position of black slaves, clearly indicating that, as white men, they
deserved better treatment. Despite the prejudices of the day, how-
ever, even slaves could sometimes seek redress in the courts for
cruel treatment. Captain John Warren, for example, was tried in
Albany for “leaving a negro woman he Lately Bought Run at
Large in the Streets of this City so that if she had not been taken
care of She would have been frozen in the streets.”** A similar case
occurred in October of 1768 when the court was “informed that a
Negro Wench belonging to the Heirs of Hendrick Hardenbeck
[was] going about the streets Naked and without any Sustenance.”*°

Such cases did not result in a criminal penalty. Rather, masters
would be admonished to be more humane lest their slave or

_ servant be freed from service. On the other hand, the courts seldom

hesitated to assess stiff penalties when asked to intervene on behalf
of a master as in the case of Patrick Smith, a servant under in-
denture to John Peck Taylor. Taylor complained to the Court of
General Sessions in New York that Smith was a most “Unruly
Servant” and requested the aid of the court, which promptly or-
dered that Smith be “carried to the House of Correction there to
receive thirty-one lashes.”?* In cases like these, the courts served
as domestic arbitrators adjudicating differences between masters
and servants or slaves, but acts of violence were most frequently
committed outside of the home, and it was this group of cases
which most occupied the courts of New York.’

Box I, John Tabor Kempe Letters, “Fisher-Guest.” This citation and those
which follow in this chapter are not comprehensive. Rather than burden
readers with a clumsy scholarly apparatus, I have chosen representative
cases to illuminate the issues raised in the text. Additional case citations
may be found in Douglas Greenberg, “ ‘Persons of Evil Name and Fame.’ ”

14 A.C.S. (Feb., 1722).

15 Thid, (Oct., 1768).

16 N.Y.G.S. (Aug. 2, 1743).

17 For another example of the courts’ function as domestic arbitrators,
see King vs. Richard Hook, S.C.M. (April 27, 1752). Hook was tried for
beating his mother, Susannah Hook, in a family argument.

178 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

Common as cases like these were, merely to condemn local jus-
tices of the peace for their stupidity, laziness, and arrogance would
be a mistake. There is no question that such traits were all too
common among the judges of colonial New York and that the per-
sonal failings of justices often contributed to weakened law en-
forcement in the province. But it ought to be remembered, as well,
that a variety of obstacles stood in the way of even the most dili-
gent judge, and consequently in the way of effective implementa-
tion of the law. Climate and geography, the expense involved in
keeping the peace, the character of New York’s population, and
the unsettled nature of its politics all impinged upon law enforce-
ment and made the tasks of the courts and their officers more
arduous and complicated than they might otherwise have been.

Communication and transportation were major problems in the
colony of New York. The Hudson River constituted the major
thoroughfare between New York City and the northern parts of
the colony. Beyond the banks of the river, roads were poor where
they existed at all, and travel was, at best, difficult. Distances easily
traversed in our own time represented journeys of major propor-
tions, and some parts of the colony were virtually inaccessible dur-
ing the winter months. Thus, persons in need of good law enforce-
ment were often remote from the institutions designed to provide
it. In July, 1760, for example, William DeNoyelles was assaulted
and forcibly ejected from his own Jand in Orange County. But in
a letter to John Tabor Kempe, he commented that “by reason of
the Distance from a Justice of the Peace [I] have no opportunity
to make affidavit thereof so must transmit this to you that you may
‘prosecute him at his majesties Suit for these actings.”°* Such a
situation was hardly favorable to the administration of justice,

(April 30, 1763), Kempe Papers, Lawsuits C-F; S.C.M. (July 30, 1763).
There were many similar cases. See the cases of justices Thomas Jarvis and
Francis Pelham discussed in Chapter 4 above.

56 William De Noyelles to John Tabor Kempe (July 9, 1760), Kempe
Papers, Box I, John Tabor Kempe Letters, “Dalzell-Eustace.”

co. ain ah oten: co neimeegan

” Fat nay tae eee i} tc OEE taehen eS etree orabad a Pare Tcahliih an Dalat ease pets wy: |

Effectiveness: The tnstitutional Setting 179

which depends on the accessibility of those charged with trying
and punishing those accused of criminal behavior. DeNoyelles
made his complaint in mid-summer. How much more difficult
things must have been during the winter! In Dutchess County, for
example, the Court of General Sessions was forced to cancel the
January term of 1765 owing to “the Excessive Great Snows”
which made the roads “in Great Measure impassable.”*7

Nor were weather and geography the only problems. The con-
trol of epidemic disease was in its infancy in the eighteenth cen-
tury, and when a measles epidemic swept New York City in the
late winter and early spring of 1728, the Supreme Court was
forced to cancel its March term for fear that persons attending the
court might spread the epidemic over the whole province.°’ In ad-
dition, law enforcement could be very expensive. Money had to be

~ allocated for many vital purposes—the construction and repair of

jails, stocks, and gallows, the care, housing, and feeding of prison-
ers, the salaries of jailers, constables, sheriffs, prosecutors, and
judges, and so on.*® In many cases, of course, government was
throwing good money after bad, but even ineffective law enforce-
ment could be expensive. There is, in fact, some evidence to

57 D.C.S. (Jan., 1765).

58 S.C.M. (March 11, 1728).

59 See the following examples: “John Tudor, Esq. High Sheriff . . . ex-
hibited his account to the court amounting to 12 pounds and sixpence

. . itt being for . . . Carpenters Worke building a gibbet and hanging a
Negro convicted of Murder.” N.Y.G.S. (Feb. 3, 1697);\a similar account
presented by Ebenezer Willson “for the Maintenance “of Several Criminals
in Prison,” ibid. (Aug. 2, 1698); a letter from Cadwallader Colden to Earl
of Halifax on August 11, 1760 reading, in part: “It may perhaps be proper
to inform your Lordship that the highest Sallary hitherto given by the
assembly to the Chief Justice and the perquisites of the office are not suffi-
cient to support a family in this country.” “The Colden Letter Books, 1760—
1775,” in Collections of the New-York Historical Society for the Year
1876, 10. A second volume was published in 1877. Hereafter referred to as
“Colden Letter Books,” volumes I and II respectively.

6° An excellent example of this sort of thing is the enormous amount of
money expended to repair the colony’s jails—usually to no effect. The fol-
lowing case also indicates how costly, but futile, such expenditures might

Fes. 15,°1879.]

SNARED BY A SCOUNDREL.

Au Innocent Country Beauty, on her|

Travels, Encounters her Fate
in an Adventurer

OF THE WORST TYPE.

His Easy Conquest of the Unsophisti- |

cated Girl Through a Grand but
Diaphanous Yarn,

AND HER SUBSEQUENT SAD FATE.

81. Joszrn, Mo., January 30.—Mattie Smith is
seventeen years old'to-day and for one so young
she has had a bitter experience in the ways of
the world. She was seated. alongside a city em-
ploye last night in the ladies’ waiting-room at
the Francis street depot. A brunette of much
beauty, long, black clustering hair, with great
dark eyes that seemed to plead fer sympathy,

she attracted the attention of the itemizer at}

once, and soon it was learned by that method |
only known to reporters, that.she had been the
victim of a most cruel fate. Knowing the man

with whom she sat it was an easy matter to get |

an andience with the girl, andin a few minutes |,
a thrilling story of love, adventure and shame |;
was being poured inthe reporter’s ears, which |
was drank in with eagerness. Three months |!

ago Mattie left her parents at their cottage home |

in the pleasant little town of Pleasant Hill, this |)
state, and atarted alone to visit her grandfather,
James McLean, who resides at Hamilton, She
was young and inexperienced, and had traveled
but little. It was necessary to change cars at
Kansas City in order to reach her destination,

and in stepping from the cars to the platform she
was approached by a well-dressed man, who
kindly offered to assist her and see that see that
ghe took the right train for Hamilton. He spoke

kindly to her, flattered and taiked a little love,

HOMICIDAL HORRORS.

Of Sufficient Number and Variety of
Atrocity te Enable the Craving
of the Most Exacting

cme

TO FILL TO SATIETY.

.A Sickening and Sanguinary Recital
| of the Murderous Tendency of
Mankind. Which Should Afford

A FEELD FOR THE HUMANITARIAN,

conan ye em

WIFE MURDERER HANGED.

San Antonro, Texas, December 23~—-Green
Johnson was hanged at Menardville to-day for
the wurder of his wife in June, 1876.

THE BESSIE MOORE MURDER TRIAL.

Mansuat, Texas, December 23.--Arguments of
‘counsel in. the Rothschild- Moore case\closed ta-
‘day, and the caso is in the hands of the jnry.

MURVER IN THE FIRST DEGREE.

‘Saw Antonio, Texas, December 23 —The' trial
lof Feliciana Cardoba, one of the Robert Tremble
‘murderera, waa concluded to-dav, a-verdict of
‘murder in the first degree beingrendered., The
‘prisoner, was twenty-one years old at the time of
‘the murder.

A FATAL LOVE AFFAIR.

CLEVELAND, O , December 22:—The coroner’s
‘jury has rendered a verdict in the Rice-Angier
ighooting case, af follows: ‘The death of Dr.

resulting from a shot fired by John B_ Rice.”
Dr. Angier made an ante-mortem statement to
the effect that Rice was jealous of him on account
of alleged intimacy between Angier and Rice’s
wife. Rice is in jail awaiting examination on a
charge of murder. Rice and Angier had heen
life long friends, and the former claima that the
shooting was entirely accidental.

[ 150 ]

George W. Angier was caused by a pistol wound.

, a thereupon
nnoisseur

verformed with
¢ known, had
‘in the science

is services were

‘gings that had
was known as
“ded with much
1esome torture.

We read that
to the scaffold,
ind to dislocate
't sickened all

before the un-

| in his work,
siness of

®' th the

plied the prin-

ine accommo-
of a carpenter
cibbet” which
forth a species
simplicity and
senerally con-
iad been pos-

monials from

rely “the man
‘as the master

stment of the

SINS OF NEW YORK

weights, and the testing of the hooks, the ropes and the noose. “On the morning
of an execution he bustled into the prison yard like the manager of a theater just

prior to the first performance.” The quotes and the information provided in this
chapter are all culled from the illuminating work of Charles A. Mackeever, in the
National Police Gazette and substantiated through other reliable sources. |

In a way it was to be regretted that this artist could not have been “master of
ceremonies” at the execution of Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, and
which was featured with such detail in the pages of the Gazette.

The conscientious Monsieur New York, we learn, became a very prominent
figure at practically all of the hangings of importance in his time. When the clergy-
man attending had signified that the doomed one was fully prepared for the last

event of his life, this short, ruddy-faced, neatly dressed man, whose snowy white

shirt was ornamented by a large diamond, appeared on the scene. He dropped

quietly into the cell and from out of a little black satchel he took a neatly worked
noose and slipped it over the head of the culprit with such dexterity as to be hardly
noticed by the man. Next from the little black satchel there quickly appeared a
black cap, and it was over the head of the prisoner and his arms were pinioned
behind his back in a jiffy. George carefully avoided giving any needless pain, and
his few words were so well-timed and intoned with such a fine sympathy as to
“inspire confidence even in the victim himself.” When the procession arrived at the
gallows the noose was adjusted without the loss of a second. When the body was
taken down, the pulley and pinioning ropes and the noose were returned to the black
satchel and George was ready for the next job. One could not help but concede that
the job was cheap at the price, one hundred dollars, and that it had been well done.
Also one could readily excuse the glow of pride that was evident in the deportment
of Monsicur New York when his thoroughness and efficiency through every detail
were considered.

Monsieur New York helped many noted criminals out of the world and had
some very interesting experiences in providing a “respectable taking off.” In 1864
he was specially sent for by General John A. Dix, then in command of the Depart-
ment of the East. George was called on to act as executioner of Captain Beale, on
Governors Island, and of Captain Kennedy at Fort Lafayette.

Captain Beale was a proud-spirited Southerner, who died for the cause he had

espoused and he maintained his pride to the very last moment. He turned his back
[ 247 ]

oo RLS SEPT LA EE LOTS ETO I I EOI CE I ORE GLI § OI EO SS LUT

So AT ahh OAR SR TRIE AE rE Oy St

A Se ROR Ft EA mt

one

wife

1
i
i
¢
i

THEY LET GEORGE DO IT
Hanging Artistically Performed, Satisfactory Work Guaranteed

Ths called him George, though his correct name was quite well known out-
side of official circles. He was also known as Monsieur New York. In private life

he was regarded as an estimable neighbor and a worthy friend. Back in the Eighties

he still resided with his family in Harlem in a modest three-story house close to the

East River, in the vicinity of the 125th Street “L” station, and was a member of the
Methodist Church. Very few, if any, among his associates knew that this quiet and
rather portly gentleman with the ruddy, cheerful visage, and George, or Monsieur
New York, the noted hangman, were one and the same person.

Early in the Fifties the sheriff of New York was drowning his perplexity in
a glass of hot Scotch in Matt Gorderson’s popular hostelry opposite the City Hall
when he was approached by a pleasant-faced young man who remarked:

“Sheriff, I hear you are looking for a man to do that little job for you next
Friday?”

“I am, indeed,” was the answer.

“Well, I wish you would give me a chance to do that little job for you. I'll do
my best, I assure you, Sheriff, and I believe I will give every satisfaction.” |

The little job in question was the hanging of a Negro prisoner. It seems that
the man who had been delegated to attend to the execution of the condemned
man had suddenly changed his mind and the sheriff was encountering much trouble
in finding some one to undertake the duties of hangman. The sheriff was agree-
ably surprised when George called on him the day after the above conversation and

made formal application for the post of common hangman.

George, it turned out, was a butcher’s assistant in Washington Market and
was then aged about thirty. He had read the autobiography of Jack Ketch, the
renowned high-executioner of Great Britain, and had conceived the idea that he was
called upon to emulate this historic character in his own city. Anyway, George was

appointed a deputy sheriff, was conducted around to the tier of the condemned

[ 245 ]

See

ieee

Y
re
Se lll E

t SINS OF NEW YORK

at in the Tombs and, looking the situation over generally, as it were, he thereupon
fo entered upon his duties with great zeal and in quick time became a true connoisseur
; in his peculiar calling.

uf The Negro was duly hanged and the delicate operation was performed with
i such perfection that Monsieur New York, as he shortly came to be known, had
4 his fame established at once. He soon was regarded as an authority in the science
of inflicting death by means of the halter. His fame spread until his services were
big in demand all over the United States.

' ) Until George became a specialist in his vocation the several hangings that had
taken place in the vicinity of New York had been by means of what was known as
the “trap gallows,” and the dispatching of the doomed had been attended with much

awkward work, and in some instances the business had involved gruesome torture.

ae The visitation of death upon Angelo Cornetti was most horrifying. We read that
: “his terrorized clamor was like the barking of a dog as he was led to the scaffold,

: and his body was not sufficiently heavy to produce the requisite rebound to dislocate
‘ et the neck, so that death came through strangulation in a way that sickened all
4 eos onlookers.” .
Be: George showed himself to be an artist from the very first. Even before the un-
¢ Tp dertaking of his first assignment, he was inspired by a desire to excel in his work,
| A and in his leisure hours he had given much thought and study to this business of
F i hanging. His daily visits to the slaughter-house had made him familiar with the |
4 i th use of the windlass then in use for the hoisting of the cattle and he applied the prin-
: yl f % ciple of the windlass to the perfection of an apparatus for the “humane accommo-
4 4 + hs dation of the law-breaking community.” With the able assistance of a carpenter
: 2 ay named Joseph B. Atkinson, their joint efforts produced “a perfected gibbet” which
: } came to be termed the New York pattern, and the inventors brought forth a species
ns of machinery which, to use their own language, “was unsurpassed in simplicity and
it perfection of construction by any machine in the market.” It was generally con-
a ii | ceded that the invention worked so faultlessly that, if such a thing had been pos-
: ‘a sible, the inventors would surely have boasted the possession of “testimonials from

the nether regions.” _
George took genuine pride, indeed, in his work. He was not merely “the man

who cut the rope and thus cut off the thread-life of the culprit.” He was the master

hibiaaa niin

of ceremonies who supervised the erection of the gallows and the adjustment of the
[ 246 ]

Ln Rl ON OM OIRO ALLS SIE SAUER

Dr M. Epwarp Marten, Deputy Chief Medical Examiner of
the City of New York, at work in his laboratory.

THE

DOCTOR

LOOKS AT

MURDER

. By
M. EDWARD MARTEN, M.D.

Deputy Chief Medical Examiner of the City of New York;
Lecturer on Criminological Medicine at the
New York Police Academy.

AS TOLD TO

NORMAN CROSS

ILLUSTRATED

DousLepay, Doran & Company, INc.
Garden City 1937 New York

INDEX TO CAPITAL CASES FOUND IN THE DOCTOR LOOKS Al MURDER, by M, Edward Marten, M.

3)
h)
5)
6)
7)

Abraham BECKER, electrocuted, Sing Sing, on Dec, 13, 1923, and
NORKIN, Reuben, electrocuted on April 17, 192),

Ludwig Halv orsen L&E, electrocuted, Sing Sing, on August 2, 1928
Frank MOSKA and one other, electrocuted, Sing Sing,

Francis CROWLEY, electrocuted, Sing Sing, on Jan. 21, 1932
Salvatore OSSIDO, electrocuted, Sing Sing, on Jan. 6, 1938

Thomas McFARLAND, electrocuted, Sing Sing, on Aug. 20, 1936

Mc CLOSKY, electrocuted, Sing Sing,

175=179.
200-205.
239-210.
21-23.
289-290,
290=292.4

300=3036

pine
noment
gin his
iin, and
captain,
is assail-
t. The
ed blow
s° Hicks
4 he had
the taff-
| * fellow
rboard,
wr shore.

s confession,
Oposition to

of the mur-
me to terms,
1 after some

e had

ected,

as good
York’s

“cution,
-glight-
At II
le was
le was
rief or
7
. when
h war-
cution.
pressly
Canal

SINS OF NEW YORK

Street, there to embark on the Red Jacket for Bedloe’s Island, where it was
arranged the execution would take place. About 1,500 persons, consisting
of gamblers, politicians, pugilisits, reporters and medical men, were assem-
bled on board at ro A.M. and immediately started for their destination.

The marshal, finding that he had plenty of time to spare, and the
Great Eastern, then lying at the foot of Hammond Street, having but re-
cently arrived on her first voyage to this country, concluded to give his
guests a view of that monster ship. The steamboat was accordingly headed
up the river, whither it proceeded as far as Hammond Street, sailed around
the Great Eastern, and then started for Bedloe’s Island, where it arrived
at 11 o'clock.

The pier was lined by a platoon of marines, under command of Capt.
John B. Hall, and on the passing of the procession, they, with the troops
from Fort Hamilton and Governor’s Island, formed themselves into
a hollow square all the way to the scaffold. |

The scene was altogether a very imposing one—hundreds of boats,
large and small, being within easy distance of the shore. For eighty or
one hundred feet out the boats formed one solid mass, and again on the
outside of these were excursion boats moving about.

The execution was witnessed by about 10,000 people. Hicks main-
tained his stolid air of bravery to the last. He never quailed beneath the
glance of the crowd. Immediately on landing on the island he knelt down
and silently prayed for a few moments, and then proceeded to the scaffold,
which was within fifteen feet or twenty feet of the shore.

The fatal signal having been given, Hicks was executed at precisely
11:05. For three minutes he struggled severely, but after that exhibited
no signs of pain. The body was allowed to remain suspended for half
an hour, when it was cut down, placed in a coffin and borne back to the
ship.

The remains were buried in Calvary Cemetery, but no stone has ever
been erected to show the precise spot. Even if it did exist, it would be to
little purpose, for the corpse was removed a night or two after the burial
by some body-snatchers and sold to the surgeons for dissection.

[ 253 |

woz

™ WS Ricks pep tince Ce fe ROP a os oe
0. lp Sy aaa haa eee Se

Be gl

_
eicmged
+

Saabs areatcrasaa een Sera atte

AIO RIG hE a eB eo EBD Ne Sa RMP

> «

_—_—

A a a
—T i.) a

SINS OF NEW YORK

that very night. Creeping forward softly, he stole upon the boy at the
bows, and with one blow of an ax knocked out his brains. The noise at-
tracted the attention of the other Watts, who jumped out of bed and came
up the companionway to see what was the matter. Just at that moment
Hicks struck him a heavy blow on the head and left him weltering in his
blood on the deck. He then went down in search of the captain, and
upon entering the cabin they at once came into conflict. The captain,
who was a short, thickset, very muscular man, grappled with his assail-_
ant and there was a long tussle, during which the stove was upset. The
Captain was beginning to master the murderer, when a well-directed blow
of the ax felled him to the floor—another blow and he was dead. Hicks
then went on deck, and taking up the bleeding and helpless man he had
left there, threw him over the vessel’s side. The man clutched at the taff-
rail, but Hicks chopped off his hands with the ax, and the poor fellow
dropped into the sea. The other bodies were then thrown overboard,
the captain’s money-bags were rifled, and Hicks headed the sloop for shore.
He used the small boat to effect a landing. :

Among the people who visited Hicks in the Tombs, following his confession,
was P. T’. Barnum, who sought a private interview. Barnum had a proposition to
make—he was desirous of obtaining a plaster cast of the head and bust of the mur-
derer for exhibition among the curiosities in his museum. The two came to terms,
the price being twenty-five dollars, with two boxes of cigars tossed in after some
haggling. Barnum then offered to give Hicks a suit of new clothes for those he had
on. The transaction was agreeable to Hicks until the exchange had beeen effected,
when the prisoner complained to the warden that the new clothes were not as good
as his old ones. But now we will let the Gazette bring us to Monsieur New York’s
part in the proceedings.

At 6 o'clock on Thursday, July 12, the day preceding his execution,
Mrs. Hicks took farewell of her husband, but neither exhibited the slight-
est emotion. It was more like parting for a few days than forever. At 11
o'clock he partook of a cup of tea and retired for the night. He was
awakened at 4 o’clock the following morning and told to dress. He was
perfectly unconcerned as to his fate, and manifested no signs of grief or
penitence.

At 9 o'clock Marshal Rynders, Sheriff Kelly and others entered, when
he quietly arose and saluted them. The marshal then read the death war-
rant, and told Hicks to prepare himself for the approaching execution.
He did so by arraying himself in a suit of blue cottonade, made expressly
for the occasion. He was driven in a closed carriage to the foot of Canal

[ 252 ]

It THE “CXR-HOOK MURDER.”

resigned, and the vacancy was filled by the appointment of Cap-
tain John Jourdan, of the Sixth Precinct. Upon his death, in
October of the same year, he was succeeded by James J. Kelso,
captain of the detective force.

What is known as the “car-hook murder” occurred on the
night of April 26, 1871. ‘The victim was Avery D. Putnam ; his as-
sailant was William Foster, a horse-car conductoy, In company
with Madame Duval and her daughter, Mr. Putnam was riding
up town on a Broadway car. Foster, who was not on duty, and
had been on a protracted debauch, was standing upon the front

‘platform. Miss Duval, happening to look through the front window,

Foster pressed his face closely against the glass and made an in-
sulting grimace. The ladies took no notice of him, He then
opened the door. Mr. Putnam remonstrated with him, and Foster
replied: | |

“I’m going as far as you, and before you getout I'll give you
neit:”

The ladies and their escort stopped the car at Forty-sixth Street.
Putnam had one foot on the rear platform, when Foster, stepping
behind him, dealt him a crushing blow on the head with the car-
hook, felling him to the ground and fracturing his skull, Mad-
ame Duval shrieked for help, but the driver of the car whipped up
his horses and drove rapidly away. Foster was at liberty only un-
til three o’clock the next morning. The jury before whom he was
tried found him guilty of murder in the first degree, and he was
sentenced to death on May 25, one month after the murder. A
reprieve was granted, but the sentence of the court was eventually
satisfied on March 21, 1873. His execution was witnessed by
about three hundred persons.

Shortly after this murder, on July 12, 1871, the famous Orange
riots occurred. They happened just eight years after the terrible
scenes during the draft. They resulted from the well-known an-
tipathy between Roman Catholic and Protestant Irishmen. ‘The
twelfth of July is the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne, and
on that day it was customary with the Orange societies to turn
out in large numbers and march in procession. When the
“twelfth”? came in 1871, Mr. A. Oakey Hall was Mayor, and at
his instigation Superintendent Kelso issued an order forbidding
the parade. This at once caused a great outcry; the newspapers
were filled with arguments fro and con, and finally the matter was

_ -

BROOME St & B WAY to CENTRAL PARK

SS. ee

CAR-HOOK MURDER,

aq e

66 THE COACHMAN.

trouble himself very little about his own fate, but was very anxious
concerning the future of his wife and only child. At about three
o’clock the next morning the keepers who occupied the same cell
with Gordon were considerably surprised to see him seized with
convulsions. A physician was summoned, and it was found that
Gordon was suffering from the effects of poison. How he ob-
tained it no one could tell. The man was evidently dying, but by
means of the stomach-pump and the use of brandy he was brought
back to consciousness. He then begged the doctors to let him
die by his own hand rather than suffer the disgrace of a public
execution. But to no avail. Gordon walked, or rather tottered,
to the scaffold in the City Prison like a drunken man, and while
the rope was being adjusted he had to be supported by two of the
deputy-marshals.

It has been so much the fashion of late years for young ladies to
marry coachmen, that I cannot help recalling almost the first noted
instance. It occurred in 1857, when Miss Mary Ann Baker, the
daughter of Mr. John E. Baker, a well-known importer at No. 93
Front Street, married John Dean, her father’s coachman. When
Mr. Baker heard of the marriage, he locked his daughter in a
back room, informing her friends that she was of unsound mind.
Dean procured a writ of Aabeas corpus, but Mr. Baker threatened
to shoot the officer who went to execute it. The house was
watched until after the departure of the European steamer by
which, it was said, Mr. Baker intended to smuggle his daughter
out of the country. A commission de Zunatico inguirendo was

appointed, and their report was that Mrs. Dean was perfectly ~

sane. An order was accordingly made by the court for her res-
toration to her husband.

In 1857 the “ Library,” a saloon at No. 480 Broadway, was a
noted resort. Theodore S. Nims, formerly city librarian, was
leaning against the bar one evening in August, conversing with
a party of friends, when a Tombs “ shyster” lawyer, named Henry
J. Wagstaff, entered the place. He walked up to the party and

suddenly struck Nims two stunning blows in the face. Nims took

refuge behind a table, but being closely followed by his assailant,
drew a double-barrelled pistol and fired two shots. Wagstaff
fell dead. An inquest was held, and the coroner, addressing
Nims, who had been arrested on a charge of murder, said: “In
my opinion this deed was committed in self-defence, and upon my

“AT THE ‘ LIBRARY.” 67

own responsibility I shall discharge you from custody.” Wag-
staff was a notorious character about the city, and no one ap-
peared to regret his death.

The climax of the great financial panic of 1857 was reached on
October 13th. The excitement on Wall Street was intense. Tre-

‘mendous “runs” occurred on all the banks in the city, and tens

of thousands of people thronged the streets. Suspensions were
the rule with scarcely an exception. Large forces of police |
guarded the banks and great trouble was feared, but the impend-

ing storm blew over.

‘THE THIEVES OF THE RIVER.

CHAPTER XI.

MURDER ON THE “ WATSON.” —KILLED

FOR TWELVE CENTS.—-THE HARBOR POLICE,—SCENE IN A BROOK-
LYN HORSE-CAR.—‘ SOCCO, THE BRACER’S” END.—THE HOOK
GANG.—GONE TO BROOKLYN AND JERSEY CITY.

On a dark night in August, 1852, three men in a small boat
pushed out into the East River from the neighborhood of James
Slip, and with oars muffled rowed stealthily for a few rods to
where the ship “ William Watson” was moored. It was just the
night foracrime. ‘The black river rushed on its course as though
afraid to stop and see what was doing on its surface. Heavy
clouds hung overhead. The air was hot and oppressive, and the
atmosphere was thick with mist. The small boat neared the
larger vessel. In a moment they joined. Two men rose from
their seats and climbed nimbly over the ship’s side to her deck.
Neither man was more than twenty years old. The lights from
the great city, which now and then shone on their faces, revealed
features marked with crime. They worked quietly about the deck,
stealing whatever they could, until they were discovered by the
watchman. But what was he to men who lived on crime? One
of them whipped out his revolver, fired, and in a second Charles
Baxter’s body was inanimate. Nicholas Howlett and William
Saul, two notorious river thieves, were his murderers. William
Johnson, their confederate, whom they had left in the small boat,
stupidly drunk, was no unwilling witness of the tragedy.

The pistol shot which killed the watchman of the “ Watson”
was not loud, but it was heard by a policeman on shore, and the
results of the investigation which followed aroused the police
authorities of New York to face a new and prolific source of crime.
I was put at the head of an able corps of detectives to ferret out
the murderers. Our task was not an easy one, but suspicion cen-
tred on the right persons, and they were arrested. Johnson
turned State’s evidence. He was committed to imprisonment for
life, but Saul and Howlett were hanged on January 28, 1853.

138

. THE RIVER FRONT. 139

My investigations in this murder opened to me a chapter in the
annals of crime, of the full horrors of which I never dreamed. If
they could be told exactly as they occurred, they would make a
tale of human depravity unparalleled in history. Citizens were
thrilled with wonder as they realized for the first time what human
monsters prowled around our river fronts. The police found that
there were organized bands of harbor thieves, who thought no
more of the life of a man than that of a chicken. If they had
been merely thieves, the revelations would not have caused the
sensation they did; but these men, or boys rather, looked on mur-
der merely as a means to enable them to steal without molestation.
Perhaps amore hopeless maze of crime was never laid bare in the
city of New York. No way appeared at first for checking it.
Detective skill had been successful in nearly every kind of crime
on shore, but here it was baffled by natural disadvantages. The
main part of the island was bounded by piers and slips, which
were in turn fringed on one side by grog shops, rum holes, and
all kinds of iniquitous dens, breeding crimes as rapidly as mos-
quitoes are bred ina swamp. Along the piers ran the swiftly How-
ing rivers, a constant source of escape by day or night. Down
the North River fronts and up the East River docks criminals
formed the greater part of the population. They went in gangs.
Each gang had its leaders and its rough rules of discipline. "Its
members lived in the vilest dens. Carousing or scheming all day,
prowling, marauding and thieving all night—these were their occu-
pations.

The criminal operations of these men were not confined to the
water. They stole, and robbed, and murdered on land as well.
Woe to the pedestrian who happened to be seen alone at night in
the dark places along the river! It is dangerous enough now, but
then it was a thousand times worse. These fiends infested every
place where men were likely to spend money. Here they watched
their prey, tracked them out-of-doors, waylaid and robbed them.
Abandoned women were confederates of the thieves. ‘They prom-
enaded on the fashionable streets, and lured victims into the
haunts of their companions in crime. To rob was the consuming
motive; a murder was an amusement. There must have been at

least one every month. ‘The criminal records include thousands.

How many more occurred is known only to the waters that eddy
round Manhattan Island and then hurry out to sea. With no

40: THE BLUE-BORDERED ‘HANDKERCHIEF. “ ‘

conviction. He is still alive and at large. Only as this is written
he is reported in the newspapers as having arrived in New York
again, after having been let out of prison in Troy, where he was
held for the jewellery robbery at the store of Marks & Son, by
procuring a bail-bond for $20,000,

On a Sunday morning in August, 1875, a woman who lived on
Greenwich Street heard groans coming from an unfinished house
at No. 275. At first she paid no attention to the sounds. But as
‘they increased in volume and number she became startled and in-
stituted a search. On the first floor of the new building lay a man,
weltering in his own blocd. There was a terrible gash in his head,
out of which flowed blood and brain. Spasimodic gasps showed
that the man was still alive. Those that found him recognized
him as James H. Noe, an elderly gentleman of fortune, and the
owner of the building in which he was discovered. It had been
his custom to walk over to where the work was going on every
Sunday morning, to see what progress had been made during the
week,

The old man rallied for a few minutes while he told the story of
the assault which had been made upon him.. “I went up on the
roof,” he said, between his struggles for breath, “and found a
man there tearing up the lead. I never had seen the man before.
I caught hold of him and marched him down stairs. Right here
where I lie he picked upa bar of iron and hit me. The next I
remember he hace tied a handkerchief over my mouth and was
searching my pockets. I attempted to resist, but he told me if I
made any noise he would come back and finish me.”

With this much said Mr. Noe became unconscious again.
He was removed to Chambers Street Hospital, where he died with-
ina week, never having regained his consciousness.

The case went into my hands. I put upon it Detective Dorcey,
who, after making a thorough examination of the premises, found
several clews which he thought might lead to finding the murderer.
One of these was the handkerchief which he had tied around Mr.
Noe’s face. It hada blue border and was saturated with blood.
Mr. Noe’s gold watch and chain, which had been purchased a few SURPRISED AT WORK.
days previously, had been taken away by his assailant. Strangely,
too, the murderer had broken his victim’s cane in two and carried
away the top piece, attached to which was a metal handle in the
shape of a monkey. A description of the watch was obtained

asoes

FT itt

ON ee.

403

Ko. 9 MANUS CARLAN executed at Albany NY on July 10th 1747 for an
unspecified 'felony'. (Albany County).

No. 10 "BETT', a negro woman slave of Willhelmus Hoogtaling Jr. and
¢ "ROBIN", a negro man slave of Aldert Rosa of Hurley, both executed
p/ at Kingston NY on July 23rd 1748 for burglary. (Ulster County).

So as you can see, I came away with some good information. There were other
cases noted but I've omitted those which we already know about.

Special Note on Source: "Minutes of the Circutt Court of Oyer & Terminer,
Province of New York, 1721-1749."

Location: Library of New York City Bar Assoc., 42 West 44th St.
New York, New York.

As far as I know, this is the ONLY KNOWN SOURCE for most of the cases above
noted. It is a handwritten transcript of an earlier Minutes Book which is since
perished. The transcript was made in the year 1871 by one Henry Onderdonk of
Jamaica LI.

As for the respective New York counties, they began keeping their own Court
Records in 1750 when the above-cited travelling Circuit Court was abolished.
Hence trips will have to be made to each county to check post-1750 records.
Its a long, SY and expensive battle in this state. Still chipping

PARDON IN THIS CASE, 4 WOULD TREAT IT WITH

as CAUTION ANYWAY. for SOME REASON | CAN'T
f y SHAKE A SUSPICION THAT THIS IS THE ‘MANUS
- CARROLL WHO SWUNG AT NYC ON /-30-4).

THE LATTER WAS CAKAED AN ‘OLD OFFENDER’. COULD
HE HAVE BEEN REPRIEVED UNDER THE GALLOWS AT

ALBANY A YEAR AND A HALF EARLIER ?

we
: Ww THOUGH THERE /S Wo RECORD OF A REPRIEVE OR

NEW YORK TIDBITS

Troy Daily Press of 3-1-1888 remarking on execution of Oscar Beckwith
at Hudson states that it was hangman Joe Atkinson's 53rd job. So this
furnishes the identity of the state executioner. His contemporary and
New Jersey colleague was one Jacob van Hise, a janitor in the State
Prison who moonlighted as a hangman.

Troy Daily Press of 4-27-1883 remarking on execution of deBastanys at
Elizabethtown states that the last execution there was that of Bishop
the uxorcide in 1843. So this clears up the location for Bishop which
had been problematical.

Buffalo Eventng News of 2-12-1886 recounting previous executions there
cites a double hanging of two men on 8-11-1815 for murder of James Burba.
This fills in the date which had been problematical.

SAME SOURCE mentions 1-6-1866 execution of Charles Carrington. This
furnishes the miscreant's first name which had been unknown.

Che Zn et remamn ag To lpsjate New York
JP oreser f Scrape he Larre/, Wi be f™ thither
all of pext week .

DAN

a + hy

SMALLMAN & HOYT The History Center, 3% E Main St
RIGeCBOCAE e CANTON, NY 13617
EAT | PCS TELSE DE LETT TTT TTS

C. WALTER SMALLMAN MARY H. SMALLMAN VAN C. HOYT

Gerteau, Louis (alias Conrad) hanged July 12, 1816
murder of Maria Scarborough, inf dau Adeline,
Jean Baptiste Macue (hired man & inlaw of

Hanging at Ogdensburgh Garteau)

dohn Donaven hanged Apr 16, 1852 at Canton killed
James Rowley of Potsdam

John Kennedy, hanged in Canton Nov 21, 1868 killed
t mas hagks9a gs DeKalb. (contemporary news say

s Feb 21) :
as

Floyd VanDyke aged 19, hanged" autumn" of 1877 in Canton

killed Vary Bartholonewl Arnaignment set Oct 29) xxx
Peter Bresnahan, hanged"fall of 1878" at Canton

Kdlled Michael Daulter (Doulthier) near Sputh Colton Ge

April 30 (intended execution July 26) *x@*

James E Eldredge (with perhaps an alias) poisoned Sarah
Jane Goull (hanged)Feb 11, 1858 or scheduled to be
murder took place in Louisville Dec 23, 1857
Reprieved from time to time, finally he died in

jail without being executed.

***contemporary newspaper says" Van Dyke had married
a girl (Mary Bartholomew) July 23, 1877 who a short time
previous to their marriage had commenced bastardy pro-
ceedings against one John Claffy- (He shot her six days
after their marriage, while shaying at Catherine Daily's

house near Ogdensburg.
*@* confessed to several other murders over the years also.

Note: Kennedy was a Scotsman from Glengarry Ont. He
murdered Thomas Hand/Jackson Feb 9, 1867. From
late in February to Nov 21, 1868 he remained in

ai) Sh CoM iste Via 2a ie ts

Mew York pidbi ts

Case of Edward Ruloff "F-3-/872." Correct date of
/ — 's 5-18-1871 per Singhamton Daily Democrat’ of that
Are | |

Case d Edward Fussell, 12-19-1891. Reassign location to
/ Warsaw, Wyoming County. per 'The Western New Yorker ‘(Mycaning
Coury Weakly 4/19/1888 page 3-

Case of Charles Eighmey 9-8-1976. Reassion ee
Canandaigua, Onterio County. per Ontacio Cowrty Times 7/10/89 pz

Case of Myr Buel//. /I-14-1878. S/B 18379

PR encaiecnea nace tte caer ancl

: , (
the execution, Sciata sent for me. “She didn’t do it,” he
shouted hysterically. ~

I questioned the man carefully. Occasionally. a murderer
will attempt to “clear” someone in order to obtain a tem-
pore. respite for himself, But Sciata kept reiterating, that

e was telling the truth. So I communicated with the
Governor, who ordered a 24-hour reprieve to investigate
the man’s story.

The following day another respite was granted. Mrs.
Antonio’s attorneys now attempted to get the Court of
Appeals to rehear the case. The request was refused.

Weeks went by, with still another reprieve, making three
times in all that Mrs. Antonio had been prepared for death
and snatched back at the last minute. Finally the judge who
presided at her trial consented to hear a motion for a stay.
of execution. Later he denied the plea. The condemned
woman's fate was again in the hands of the Governor.

Mrs. Antonio spent her last day in Sing Sing listening to
the radio. “I’m nearly dead now,” she told a matron. “I’ve
already died a thousand times. Why don’t they finish the ,
job?”

As the woman sat talking she received another agonizing
blow. A news commentator announced that the Governor
had refused to grant any further reprieves. The matron
rushed to turn off the radio, but it was too late. The dreaded
statement had been completed. ‘

That night at eleven o'clock Mrs. Antonio began her
death march. She walked a long “last mile,” three times as
far as her alleged accomplices who had been placed in cells
adjoining the death chamber. The condemned woman

’ begged so pathetically to be left until’ the last moment in.

the women’s wing that her request was granted.

When she was led from her cell another shock awaited
her. The executioner had been slightly delayed and Mrs.
Antonio had to stay in the pre-execution chamber for sev-
eral minutes while the equipment was put in order. She
did not falter, and when guards led her to the chair she

walked with a firm step. No inmate suffered as much as Mrs. °

Antonio. Yet I think she met her end with thé strength of
not one man, but ten.

Gordon Fawcett Hamby's case has always greatly in-
trigued me. Back in 1917 two masked bandits held up the
Brooklyn Savings Bank and brutally murdered two bank
tellers during their getaway. Hamby, a mystery-man who
was a vicious yet gentlemanly killer, when he went on trial,
kept telling his attorneys, loud enough for the jurors to
hear: “I’m guilty! So why bother to do anything for me?
The quicker I'm strapped in the chair, the better.”

Shortly before his execution, Hamby, who claimed his

name wasiGuy B. Allen but whose real identity will probably

never be known (for complete inside story on Hamby by
Lewis E. Valentine, Police Commissioner of New York
State for eleven years, see page 26—Ed.), explained to. me
why he deliberately chose to forfeit ;

his life.

“My. conscience bothered me,
Warden,” he said, “but not because I
killed in Brooklyn. You see, I mur-
dered a good friend of mine out in
Washington. We had an argument one
night and I thought he was going to
shoot me, so I let him have it first.
Yet, when I searched him I found that
he didn’t have a gun.” Hamby paused
a moment and _ stared reflectively
through the bars of his cell, then con-
cluded: “I wanted to commit suicide
to square myself, but I didn’t have
the nerve to do it.’ He smiled
cynically. “But now I’m doing it.
I'm committing suicide all right, legal
suicide.”

A.few hours later Hamby went to,
the chair. His last words to the other ,

Joseph Murphy

condemned men were: “So long fellows. Who knows?, maybe
I’m getting a break after all.” :

Do any of those condemned to die ever repent? The bulk
of them do, from those who have killed in a moment of
blind fury to the most calculating killers. Many have at-
tempted to atone for their sins. Some asked that their
bodies be given to scientific institutions for experimental

urposes. Unfortunately, though, such requests could not
te granted because of regulations. Others, like Phil, a
veteran, tried to atone in different ways. He asked me
to cash his bonus bonds, which came to him while he
was in the death house, and turn over the proceeds to
his sister.

“I guess it will be a big help to her,” I commented,

“Oh, that ain’t for her,” he answered quickly. “I’m gonna
have her send this dough to the wife of the guy I bumped
off, It’s found money to me, and I hear this guy's wife
is\hard up.”

Of course not all murderers die in the chair. Some have
their sentences commuted to life imprisonment, or plead
guilty to a lesser offense. Once:such murderers recover from

‘the initial shock of their predicament they are thankful.

Facing a lifetime behind bars, they are anxious to not only
make amends but keep their minds from deteriorating.
What they want, as a rule, are jobs involving hard work
and plenty of responsibility. 1 invariably granted such re-
quests for I found that many murderers are exceptionally
willing, competent and loyal.

“Peanuts,” so nicknamed by his friends, became inter-
ested in agriculture. He studied hard and was finally put
in charge of a little farm within the walls. This inmate,
once condemned toeath, was so grateful for being spared
that he built a private little shrine for himself an prayed

‘there three times a day.

Others too have accomplished much behind bars and
wound up holding key positions. Harry became head of
the commissary. Jules, a mechanic, made dies that saved
aoa ' the state thousands of dollars. Jack in-
vented a number of appliances, some
of which he gave to the government
for use during World War II.

Then, of course, there was Charles
Chapin, who will never be forgotten by
the inmates of Sing Sing Prison. Once
the City Editor of the New York
World, Chapin had been called
“Simon Legree” by his fellow workers.
He lived up to that name, driving
those under him with a relentless
energy. If there were a story to be had,
heaven help the reporter who at-
tempted to explain failure to Chapin.

According to Chapin, he murdered
his wife because he was penniless and
felt that she could never endure pov-
erty. He claimed he was also deter-
mined to kill himself but for some
unexplained [Continued on page 127]

Scalfonia had been convicted of murder
in 1930, principally because his accomplice,
Frank Plaia, squealed on him. Plaia, how-
ever, received no leniency for aiding the
prosecutor and both were condemned to
death.

On the day of their execution, Scalfonia
asked to be “burnt” after Plaia.

“Why?” I asked him.

“I got my reasons,” answered Scalfonia,
“and besides, that guy Plaia’s nerves would
crack if he had to wait till after I went.”

It was obvious that he had sized up Plaia
correctly and since Scalfonia seemed com-
posed, I granted his request. That night
Plaia was executed first. Five minutes later
Scalfonia entered the death chamber. To the amazement of
the witnesses he drew a handkerchief out of his pocket and
carefully ‘wiped off the chair. \

“After that rat sat in it I want it clean,” he snarled. He
then went calmly to his death.

Unfortunately, some slayers, particularly those who haye
committed the most atrocious murders, do not remain so
composed. In the midst of their theatrics they become ham
actors. A striking example involves a gang—called the
Weeping Willows at Sing Sing—consisting of Tony Marino,
a Bronx speakeasy proprietor; Joe Murphy, his bartender;
Daniel Kreisberg, a handyman, and Frank Pasqua,: an
undertaker. .

Those four insured the life. of one Mike Malloy, a
former Sing Sing inmate, once dubbed “as hardy a son of
Erin as ever guzzled a gallon of turpentine.” But they laid
their plans without giving due consideration to the
gantuan stamina of the mighty Malloy.

First the plotters invited Mike to Marino's bar and mixed
his drinks with wood alcohol. The corpse-to-be gulped them
down but astonishingly remained on his feet. Next, he was
left stark naked in the snow to sleep off a two-day drunk.
Mike emerged from this ordeal without even a case of
sniffles. Disgusted but not discouraged; the plotters now
hired a taxi to run him over. Within a week the mighty
Malloy enjoyed a complete recovery.

Still undaunted, the gang held a conference. Certainly
sandwiches containing decayed sardines and chopped tin,
seasoned with rat poison, would do the trick. But Malloy
digested these dainties with great mouthfuls of pleasure.
The gang, then at its wits’ end, finally lugged Mike to a
furnished room, got him drunk, and placed a flowing gas
pipe in his mouth. Malloy suceambed.

. The night set for the
electrocution of the four
slayers witnessed one of

\ the most disgusting scenes
ever staged at Sing Sing.
These brutal killers, quiv-
.ering with fear, tried to
obtain last-minute com-
mutations by attempting
to implicate friends, even
relatives, in unsolved mur-
ders. When that failed,

they sought to win sympathy by protesting their innocence.

Sobbing and begging for mercy, they were taken from their

cells and led to the execution chamber where they heaped
curses on each other, curses such as I had never heard except
from Gus Schweinberger who was electrocuted for the mur-
der of Fred Ludwig. ' : ‘

Schweinberger (the name was an alias) had been visiting
Ludwig when a violent argument argse over the attentions
the guest was paying to Ludwig's wife. A fight was averted,
though, when Schweinberger invited his host to go for an
automobile ride to talk things over. When they reached
a lonely road Schweinberger killed Ludwig.

Schweinberger, who reached the death house soon after

Frank Plaia

Anna Antonio

gar-

the outbreak of World War II, talked to me
frequently. “In here they say we are bad
men because we kill,” he remarked one day.
“But in the old country when we kill the
(enemy, they say we are good soldiers. This
man I killed tried to kill me. He was my
enemy. Why, then, do you keep me here?
I’m not so bad.”

Of course all this was an attempt to con-
done a misdeed, not.uncommon among mur-
derers such a Schweinberger. He did not tell
me, but I learned from other sources. that he
never intended to “talk things over” with
Ludwig. He plotted the crime weeks in ad-
vance and made minute arrangements for

waht a get-away to a southern city. What was'
more, Ludwig was by no stretch of the imagination an
“enemy.” ~

Yet. Schweinberger, even up to the last moment, would
not admit the truth of the murder. Instead, he kept cursing
and cursing until he practically collapsed from fright over
his impending fate. When guards came for him he was
already half a corpse and he walked to the death chamber
with a dead man’s waxen pallor and staring, unseeing eyes!

Joseph Bologna

Theodore DeDonne

Prison records showed that Schweinberger died in the
chair at 11:08 that night. Actually he died hours before
the executioner went to work. ‘

The same may also be said of Mrs. Ruth Snyder,-called
“the most publicized murderess in criminal annals.”: This
woman, most of you will remember, deliberately killed her
husband in 1927 for the double purpose of collecting his
insurance and marrying Judd Gray.

After Mrs. Snyder’s execution the public was so thirsty
for news about her that stories were invented to sustain
interest. One of them, believed even to this day, was that
Ruth Snyder went to the chair with a smile because she
was confident of being revived by the use of adrenalin.

This story was nothing more than pure fabrication. For
forty-eight hours prior to her death Ruth Snyder was prac-
tically unconscious with terror. Mrs. Mary Frances Creigh-

‘ton, another so-called “brave” woman, reacted in the same

way. She was so stricken with fear at thought of dying by
electrocution that it was necessary to wheel her into the
execution chamber and lift her into the chair.

In decided contrast to those two was Mrs. Anna Antonio,
without doubt the most stoical of all the condemned I have
ever met. On Easter morning in 1932 her husband, Sal-
vatore, a petty gangster, was found dead on‘a road near
Albany.

An investigation soon revealed that his wife had hired
Vincent Sciata and Sam Feracci to kill him so that she might
collect $5,300 insurance on his life. Mrs. Antonio denied
the charge, claiming that the two men had disposed of her
husband because of a grudge. The jury believed otherwise
and the three were sentencd to death.

As the hour approached on the day scheduled for

chair. The misplaced indictment had been
located and Peretti’s conviction for mur-
der, in connection with some Black Hand

activity, followed. ae
Naturally I was curious to learn why
Peretti had given
Charles E. Chapin himself up, and asked
him about it. \

“I was innocent of that crime,” he insisted.

“Well, then why did you flee from this country?” Soon
after the murder Peretti had gone to Italy, his native land,

where he remained in hiding for ten years before returning -

to the United States to dig up the ashes of a crime long
forgotten. ;
“I had enemies and was afraid if I remained over here

and stood trial they’d give perjured testimony.” Peretti °

shook his head. “But I liked the United States and wanted
to'‘come back, so when I figured the guys who wanted to
get me were either dead or busted up, I came back. I was
a sucker though. They got me anyway.”

“But why didn’t you Iet the whole business drop? Why
did you run around stirring everything up again?” ,

Peretti shrugged. “Well, Warden, to tell the truth, I’m
a funny guy. I wanted to have a clean record, and I knew
as long as that charge was standing against me, it wouldn’t
be clean.”

Anyway, that was Peretti’s story, which I am inclined to

believe. It is not unusual for slayers, even the cleverest, to’

bring about their own downfall. At least 95 per cent of
the murderers I met at Sing Sing either talked
themselves into arrest or gave themselves away _
through some careless act. Thomas Bohan, for
instance, killed a patron of a gambling house
in 1926 and escaped to Chile where he became
a successful storekeeper. One night he became
embroiled in an argument with a drunk who
questioned his ability to “fight it out like a
man.” id

“Listen, fellow,” warned Bohan, “I once
croaked a guy in New York because he got too
wise. You better watch your step.” : '

This remark eventually reached the ears of
a wide-awake official in the American consulate
who communicated with the New York police. Bohan’s
extradition and conviction soon followed and the death
house claimed another victim.

Before he died Bohan summed up the reason for his

predicament very accurately. “You know, Warden,” he said, '

“shootin’ off a gun ain't dangerous. It’s shootin’ off your
mouth, That's what gets you into trouble.”

Many other killers have found that out also. Some even
confess if they are promised just a slight bit of notoriety.
This was dramatically illustrated when Joseph Bologna,
Salvatore Scata, John Kimmel, Theodore (Peter) De-
Donne, Frank Zisso and Tony Bruno were arrested on: sus-
picion of having murdered Edwin Esposito, a.collector for
an elevated line in New York. After an hour's grilling
Scata confessed to the crime but the others refused to talk.
Finally the district attorney directing the investigation hit
upon a ruse.

“How would you fellows like to tell your stories while
posing before the news-reel cameras?” he asked. |

seeking his own arrest died in the electric —

| f: -) ‘a
:

Z BY LEWIS. E. LAWES
000 ~ FORMER WARDEN OF SING SING PRISON

“Tt’s a swell idea,” the gang chorused. The publicity
angle delighted them.

The prosecutor then called in the news-reel men. While

the cag was being placed in position the actors
spruced up for their first screen appearance. As the cameras
ground away and.the sound rah oro recorded every
‘word Scata proudly confessed that he had acted as “look-
out,” Bologna showed how he fired the fatal shot, and the
others, simulating an air of bravado, explained their roles
in the shocking crime.

, That clinched matters for the prosecution. Within a

' month the “singing sextette” was in condemned row. How-

éver, only Bologna and DeDonne were executed. The sen-
tences of the other four were commuted to lifeimprisonment.

Even on the brink of eternity Bologna retained a craving
for the ‘spectacular. As he was strapped in the chair he
kept repeating: “I ain’t afraid to die,” then finished by
uttering wisecracks in an attempt to impress the witnesses.

‘This striving for recognition in the death chamber is
not characteristic of the so-called “non-professional” mur-

Tony Marino

“Two-Gun”
Crowley

t
| Mary Frances Creighton

derers. Those who kill during the heat of an argument,
to pave the way for a second marriage, or to dispose of a
rival in a love affair, are usually contrite when they enter
the death’ house and remain so until the end. But mur-
derers who have made crime their career, men such as
Joseph Bologna, usually spend weeks deciding what they'll

- say or do when they enter the death chamber. A good

number, though, are so sobered by the sight of the chair
that they can’t even open their mouths. Only a few do suc-
ceed in making what they consider dramatic and memorable
exits.

Grinning broadly, George Apple quipped facetiously:
“Now folks, you'll soon see a baked Apple.” Walter Jan-
kowski ran up to the chair and-kissed it. Mike Kosnowski
deeded his wooden leg to the prosecutor, saying: “Here’s
something .to go with his wooden. head.” But Michael
Scalfonia, a vicious killer whose urge for theatrics could not
be subdued, staged a finale that was just about the last
word in Sing Sing Prison death-chair originality.

i Fe et ceinke
latcut ae pet 38

i oe
p oadeey ‘in
' |-=-the only such’ photo ev
- at Sing Sing Prison—was
| by a New York Daily’News’ p
ase her who strapped a’

D) wing my twenty-one years as warden of New York
State’s Sing Sing Prison I came in contact with“at least two

thousand murderers, perhaps more. Were any of them par- °

ticularly interesting? Some—but surprisingly not many—
were, and for a variety of reasons. ;
Take Anthony Peretti. He was, in some respects, as un-
usual a killer as any I’ve ever known. It was early in 1926
that he stalked out of a New York police ‘station cursing
under his breath. For halfan hour he had been trying to
convince the authorities that the law wanted him for the

murder of Charles Ubrascio some ten years before. But no
one took Peretti seriously, and the desk sergeant finally
threatened to commit him to an insane asylum if he didn’t
get out. So Peretti got out.
The next day he visited the prosecutor's office but there,
‘too, no record of any ‘charge against him could be found.
This time, however, Peretti met with more encouragement.
One of the officials agreed to look into the matter thor-
oughly and asked him to return the following week.
A year later the man who so conscientiously went about

0
AXA [ica 2)

paeurber FAL

New York El Saga

1784. Daniel Moore b Wiliam Buckley. Hearieved
under gallows on 424/84. Per NY Packet $-3-84 2:1

1784. William Flanagan. Ny Packet 9a3/94 3:/ says
he 1's ordered tim txectttion on 1015/84 but 1 find no
Subsequent mention tn tiny NY paper.

1795. Jacob Pickings. & Demis fearney. NY Journal
b State Gazefe 7/21/35 Says That fr Carnty Was repritved Mader
the gallows on 7/16 and that Fichings wes given an tndetin te
stay becouse of physical Incapacity. No subsequent Inention of
him found In any" NY paper.

1185. John Hernbrow. Ny Packet GUELP 9/9/35 3:2
says that he broke, jail ond escaped Wy Subsequent Ay id /n
any NY poper.

1795. Styhen aka. Shepard Grimes. WY Packer Y19/8s
3:/ reorts o, SONNCES She tnd Jthn Lbenson. Grimes Ho
hang on 10/7 and Geasin on 23. Benson executed per 9/26
3:2. Wo subsequent mention of Grimes. Very probably pardoned.

(786. William Wright. Minutes Baoh of State Sypreme Court
Says that he was ordered tor éxecutiom on 3/3/86 at ALBANY.
Ne. subsequent mention found. =

1987. Black fsoac. 71 tim tunable to develga any Aitrad of
athe on ters one- No twention ot hin anywhere.

/787. James Wikbor b Wm. Stewart. Foojtpads. Ny Packer
8/9/87 2°49 Says Hak Yiey were arrested om 7/17 far robbing
Mr. fejer /ons. ON i of his gold watth and Chin /n Ve Bowery Lane
Af fer menacing fig with A hatte. Both executed on 8/27 per
Wy Journef Weekly Ae ister 8 [30/8 7.

1460 Henry Flakes New York Herald Tribune 5/20/60 9!1 oa :
Walter Green "they were both residents of Buffalo NY.
(7/58 they murdered the preprieter of a
| Lakawanna haberdashery during a $16 holdup.
Green was age 33.

1461. Ralph Downs. New York Herald Tribune 1/6/61 15*8 says
he was age 2%. He had been released npn

Prison a week before the crime where he had

, done time for auto theft. On the fatal day in
4 January 1959 he went to the office of Dr. Gordon
: King, a Bronx physician and demanded money

ot nifepoint- rp was fatally slashed
ond the. receptionist was wounded. The take was $47.

19444.

(a+b.

1952."

954.

1453

[4b0.

uen Tieh Li i
i it Hing $

Oliver Li a
Stabbed

says eat

John Martin
Henry Lewis hen §

; Sor

Fablo Vargas

New York Times 9/1/44 721 net "a |
hie 24 and [4 respecti

(24/43 y robbed an |8 rasa spate oar
named on ah aa asey and

the sake 0 $I. T can net chy an
rae of the crime as ported at the time :

of its perpetretion.
New York Tames (13/46 13:6 mr 1s thet he

a man named Harry Beard durin
NYC holdup. fag: wie

New rk [ferald Tribune !0/31 (52 Ise
that hie was a 31 year old resident of
Vp oh who on ltt/5 bashed his 15

a old sister in law, Nancy Bridges, over
4x2 with a@ reck and then ran Her over
his ear.

New York Herald Tribune 3/j2/S4 8*| Says
they were both 191. On 11/21/52. the ladd
in wait-for a Brooklyn grocer named Gaspare.
Ingargiola and Struck i down with a
eae as he Rare aon is store. Then th
ed him inte re, took $85 rl
mn wig and remained atthe scene long
meee orge themselves on ice Cream.
3. See New York Herald 1/43/52
z + ken acrest. Both were 12

attime of crime.

New York Times 7/4/58 (1:1 says he was
20 es ear old elas of North Tonawanda NY.

eat aman te death with actire iron at
Niagra Falls durdg a 3/57 holdup.

re — Herald Tribune 5/13/60 [6:1 Says

bed fry 35. On 2/13/58 he raped and
4 year old Lillian Mojica in NYC.

Ne sents S]13/60 1$:\ adds thet

Crime Was Committed th basement of the

building in which they both lived and that

he sether body on fire. He fought like ademon

inthe pha chamber and it took eight

guards to overpower him.

NEW Yt

4
amend

/79¢. Thewus Auyht NY Fached M1990 3:3 5, She 13 Stafenced 10 Sui on 2/2/90
tit (0 Sib sequent Mtentiin 1¥ pred by aay WY PEER. bebly CmnantTed.

1793. Joel Sawyer tybite « NY Sourne b Weebly frestfop 5/8/73 Says Hat he Senter od To
/ Swihg on 6/13/93 hab oad “yee? (hen ae : Lh a big

1793. Joby Wil hase Harvenbeck fos "a sf Wechly Me BIR 1616/93 repr ”
John George Hobbolt - ewunniTion, Together Bt eo et Sea
apt tne cae N11 and we shnigd % Stisaq Seq ey eNher
with BIASIUs an pis AU NY papers Separt aceigs of Blas/'us

0n Uf4 with no Subse qyeit (nenfiin of Hibbolt er farfin beap.

Very probably Committed.

1794. Sesse Hart. Yandble te Pr en newton oF bia 1 ae

ork Ce, Sug cor
Condemnateln boy Grnceary "F4¢ Cres hi fa 7 Ate, Oyer d 14h wr
New fork Conaty and. Subseguendt Comrmctatky

1794. Leonme hoemame. The Ptarg or Evening hey rte Vf 1/94 3:4 meupoms Sux er m
Simeon Fomine’ ahas Wilbon Towns». Suatented Te Sir

M4 TY but to Si “dsequcat? tn tilicag Perurd ay where. Hivbubly Lonmut' ee.

heter Conner

1795, Thomas Cremen \
Marth Me Nea/

NY JSoutrnef a Weekly Hr “4 Hee /-/ 7- IF 4 gurls Vhat they WEE
Stntinced to death, bit Vbat Cw tdpiurned wrttherut Setihy a Mate |

Me Substqucot Menton Jovindf, Angutbere . [rebballly Corrupted

her j
1795 . Mn (A >? No martin of stor ay WY pyter. Aad t Stowed afl of Yhewe f
leipec condlerrn atin at Ochober ' ibs Crew Crt of Cyr 0 Vereniber
ate New York Corny and reuhne Crunufe trons po a eeliten of
folk pes ter [eser fehames by Sate hayiiletere “A Savy of Ve

1196. Waa Gardner. Mew feok eral, 2/3/96 3:3 ype, 2 Seabenced to beng en 3/09

uit to Subsegueat mentim frrund abywhere he fib Computed thee.
pr peat ty Aergery bas whifithed the Tol erieg Wen ve

/ 79¢ ; John Vhinpsen . This one Strhks - Pos porelty ty burglary hid been cho Shed A/ VE

feos previaily ! Prat 1 can't pasitebaly Uaprve ¥ ethee.

1795 JeSsup D arty ‘ / dent the the Stell of bys cue ether Sice deel Senfimces
for hoy Wire ber lately Corumifed by Thus frome. JS oy Suspect
Hat ther 4 (IM; centery Cohuty fistely rade Comunr’ Evce
[shy all death Seatences rep fed by CQurt limita Looks, ( whieh
Just ee perihed) and ASU D What all were Charvite Cnr.
Ths 1s how 77 Va pathy aypaerent Dy The Cas of the author of the
‘Mew York City Tornls” phe yew tre tuich Tov eager Jo Trist. As
fer Jessup Darling, Yhirgh, { Com} positively disprve MiS CX€Cuf 0p,
or Ab D execuhin at tht Pine So Siypore Wak On€ tits f

let ¢ be Tor 10".

1799. John Fortin = WY Specta¥er 12/4/99 2:2. John Pashller alas Pasian ales Py Hind.
A fortuquese Cras maker who Shished bir Cnyplo 4 tthe Te death ont
of taal te called a Yhieh witheat prot: Sentenced to death, bit
Court adfeuned tp. cot Sefting a dale. No Subsequent Mention by any WY

Me perarn Mor EXetuTED 101799, Locks ihe a Case of

dire! tujfh frcatiin - an ol play to géh trttaend he rrintlate

Seath pordtty - Stnfonce the seh. 7 q, buf aging WE

a Ate So the he Tenuas 1 ltbo tir the resp bf fit hike» Ths 23

hiw The Judy es path out Ike Seatences when Stach were r0F ahlewed,

The SThue¥ hr of the [4”- Dif not want tv tisk Goveray reTising
4 Comumilahin So Just Sen Sef a dale ard There by hea Juin alve.

despite Yhe Coverner /

/8/5. Fumes Burke — WY Spectator 12/3/15 3:2 and Ift9/l6 3/2 fy definite Stas
granted on /-19-L6 prntig a review of tuk Cate by She Shite Leprhbire ;

eat it y Not Exéeutep /N 18/5" / fad prebebly ney tf dl Sihive
10 Subsequent Menhin B Sound aon here. :

/816 - /shinacl Frasier. Charge dake Yo (-/9-/6 pe NY Speetetor V-19-/6 352

13/7. Diana Selleck. Must be deleted er lw Yop A vals ame
ee Triels atecay fr WRONG. A ‘ie Wal the taer 7 pa,

Site She ded of pilin fever th ($22.

1937, Sdrme/ Ackh ey. Atcordiy 7 Loreners heper? he killed bys wit by frei G
Curtain red hit her vagina. Hence the Unprintable detiits ”

178 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

took the attitude of wanting to be helpful but not
being able to.

The police started an intensive investigation. Be-
fore long they were completely convinced that Becker
and Norkin had murdered Jenny. They even found
the man in Philadelphia to whom Abe had paid $10
to send the wire and write the letter. But they knew
it was useless to try them for the murder unless they
could positively identify that body as Jenny Becker.
They and the medical examiner tried everything:
clothing, dental work, laundry marks—but none of
these attempts led to a sufficiently positive identifica-
tion.

Then came the break. Dr Gettler analyzed the
stomach contents, looking for a lead or a clue. He
found traces of oranges, raisins, cherries and almonds
in the woman’s stomach. This discovery electrified
the despairing detectives into action. They went to
the Linders. “Did you have anything to eat at that
party?” they asked casually. “Yes,” said Mrs Linder,
“we had oranges and cherries and—let me see—oh
yes, we had some almonds and raisins.”

That was enough. They put Becker and Norkin on
trial for the murder. Norkin confessed but Becker

denied everything to the last. But the jury chose to
believe the evidence of the microscope and the labora-
tory rather than Becker’s denials. They were both
convicted and electrocuted at Sing Sing.

Becker’s last words were:

“Tf there is another world and I have any influence

CHEMISTRY AND THE MEDICAL EXAMINER _ 179

there, I’m going-to do something to District Attorney
Cohn.”

It would have been more to the point if Becker
had directed his ire against Dr Gettler. The oranges,
almonds, raisins and cherries were what sent Becker
to the chair.

174 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

plot. The body was that of a man who had died of
pneumonia and which they had prepared for burial
in the course of their business. They filled the coffin
with rocks and kept the body. Later they transported
it to the cabin in the woods and set the place afire. In-
stead of collecting a large sum of money from the
insurance company, they were arrested and convicted
not only for conspiracy to commit a fraud but also
for the violation of a dead body.

Another case, that happened in Chicago, illustrates
the important role that embalming may play and also
how insurance companies are not always right. A man
died at his home the morning following an automo-
bile accident. The local coroner did an autopsy and
announced the cause of death as “ruptured stomach.”
An undertaker then prepared the body for burial. It
developed that the deceased had been a crank on life
insurance—he had taken out a number of policies in
several companies aggregating $150,000. Since the
man had died from an accident, as it appeared, the
family claimed double indemnity. But on account
of the large sum involved the insurance companies
were wary and asked and received permission to have
a second autopsy made. After this autopsy they re-
ported that the man had unquestionably died of
arsenical poisoning.

The family felt certain that the man had not com-
mitted suicide and employed counsel. The lawyer put
the matter up to Dr William D. McNally, a compe-
tent Chicago toxicologist. At the trial of the case the

CHEMISTRY AND THE MEDICAL EXAMINER | 175

insurance companies introduced the toxicologist who
testified to finding large quantities of arsenic in the
body. In rebuttal counsel for the widow put Dr Mc-
Nally on the stand. The doctor stated that he had pro-
cured and analyzed samples of the embalming fluid
and hardening compound used by the undertaker
who had embalmed the body between the two

- autopsies. These materials were proved to contain

enormous quantities of arsenic oxide! The widow got
$300,000 insurance, the insurance companies got a
headache, and their pathologist and chemist felt ex-
tremely silly.

Abraham Becker had a wife, Jenny, who was fat
and unattractive. Abe played around with other
women and Jenny heard about it. She made life pretty
miserable for him, upbraiding him constantly for his
infidelity and imploring him in the name of their
three small children to be a good father and husband.
So Abe decided the only thing to do was to get rid
of Jenny. He and a pal of his, Reuben Norkin, con-
cocted a not very imaginative murder plot which they
executed. On the morning of April 6, 1922, as he left
for work as a chauffeur, Abe told Jenny to dress up
that night, that he was going to take her to a party.
Jenny spent the day dolling herself up the best she
could, ironing her dress and fixing her hair and
doing things to her face, pitiful efforts to lure
Abe away from Anna Elias, the pretty twenty-
two-year-old blonde neighbors told her he was crazy
about.

176 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

Abe was in high good humor as he drove Jenny
to the home of some friends, the Linders. He even
gave her three cents to buy some candy for the chil-
dren. They had a good time at the Linders, and Jenny
was happy that her husband seemed so attentive.
Towards midnight they left. Driving home, the
engine seemed to be developing.trouble, and Abe saw
his pal Norkin standing (by prearrangement) on a
corner and picked him up, saying to Jenny that he
would help him fix the car. They then drove to a
lonely lot, when Abe stopped the car. Jenny was
skeptical about the engine trouble. Abe got out and
lifted the hood. “Come here,” he called to Jenny,
“and I’ll show you what’s the matter.” Let Reuben
Norkin take up the story:

“She leaned over with her back to him, and he hit
her with the iron bar. She fell down. Abe pulled
her coat tight around her head. That was to stop
her yelling. She didn’t yell though. She just
groaned. He grabbed her by the back of the coat
and dragged her to the edge of the pit he had dug
that day in the vacant lot. It was about thirty feet
away.

“Abe told me to keep a lookout, and I went back
to the sidewalk. He was shoveling dirt on his wife.
She was still groaning. It took him half an hour to
get her buried. Then we swore over the grave never
to tell nobody and we went to the lunch wagon and
Abe set ’em up to cigars.”

The neighbors noticed Mrs Becker’s continued

eS ONG ET IT IF 5 me RM ARR at RET be me

THESE two scenes il-
lustrate the type of
technical equipment
in the New York police
laboratory which | its
available for use by the
medical examiner’s of-
fice. Above is a refrac-
tometer for determin-
ing the alcoholic con-
tent of a liquid, and
below is a comparison
microscope.

ae aes

Courtesy Wide World Photos, Inc.

CHEMISTRY AND THE MEDICAL EXAMINER | 177

absence. Abe explained it by saying she had gone
visiting to Philadelphia. After a week he showed
them a telegram reading:

EVERYTHING O.K. WITH ME LETTER WILL FOLLOW
JENNY

A few days later a letter came, which he showed
around:

DEAR HusBAND ABE:

This is to inform you that I have gone away with an-
other man who I was married to before I married you.
He said he would arrest me for bigamy if I didn’t go with
him. I hope you will be a better father than I have been

a mother. I remain your ungrateful wife,
| JENNY.

That quieted the neighbors’ suspicions, and things
went smoothly for Abe for about six months. Then
one day a body was discovered buried in lime in a
vacant lot near the Beckers’ Bronx home. The body
was in terrible shape, almost completely unrecog-
nizable. The medical examiner estimated that she
had been dead about six months. The discovery
of the body revived the neighborhood gossip, and
the police, who get around, presently got wind of
it. They found Becker and took him down to the
Morgue.

“Tt don’t look like my wife,” he said. “Jenny was
a bigger woman. But I just don’t know. I couldn’t say
yes and I couldn’t say no. How could anyone say who
that was?” Detectives remarked on his coolness. He

202 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

The cellar was flooded with water, apparently from
a break in the plumbing, Pieces of human flesh were
picked up here and there. Various articles of cloth-
ing belonging to Lee were found in the cellar, includ-
ing a bloody shirt which was stuffed between the ceil-
ing of the cellar and the floor of the kitchen above.
Finally they noticed in one corner a pile of lumber
almost hiding a barrel. The emergency men opened
this barrel and found the head of a woman, later
shown to be that of the missing Selma Bennett, packed
in lime. Also in the barrel were several other parts of
a woman’s body.

It was now evident that Lee had murdered and dis-
membered Mrs Bennett and probably Miss Brownell.
There was ample corroborative evidence. Piecing the
story together, this seems to be what happened: On
the twenty-seventh of June Lee and Miss Brownell
had a quarrel which culminated in her ordering him
to move out. He refused, and Miss Brownell appealed
to the police. When interviewed by an officer, Lee
said he would not leave unless she gave him three
hundred dollars. She in turn refused and an impasse
was reached. During the succeeding week Lee re-
mained at the house, going several times to the office
of a Norwegian newspaper to seek advice as to
whether he could be forced to move. A number of
witnesses testified at the trial that Lee had been ex-
tremely bitter towards his benefactress.

On the night of the Fourth of July that bitterness
flared into homicidal fury. Lee killed the old woman

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER AND THE POLICE 203

with an ax in the cellar of the house and then spent
the night dismembering the body. His first plan of
disposal apparently was to cut most of the body into
pieces small enough to pass through the sanitary
plumbing system of the house into the street sewer.
This failed in the end, although some parts did pass
into the sewer. But soon the plumbing system got
stopped up, causing the flooded condition in the cel-
lar and back yard. The parts thus lodged in the pipes
decomposed rapidly in the summer heat, giving rise
to the odor noticed by the detective and others.

During the time between the first murder on
July 4 and the second on July 9 Lee accounted to
inquirers about Miss Brownell’s absence by saying
that she had “gone to the country”, although he was
unable to say where she went or when she would re-
turn. The day before he murdered Miss Brownell
Lee told two friends of his, Jensen and Neilsen, that
he was going to have to leave and asked them to help
him move on July 5. Evidently up to that time the
murder plan had not formulated itself in his mind.
When the two men came at the time appointed Lee
told them the yarn about Miss Brownell’s having gone
away and then added that she had just telephoned
him for him to stay on and look after things until her
return.

Jensen, a clerk in a neighborhood grocery, had a
room in the Brownell house. He testified that when
he came home on the night following the murder of
Miss Brownell he stopped in Lee’s room for a few

204 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

minutes. He had with him a package wrapped in a
piece of newspaper. It was a small lamp he had
bought that day from a traveling peddler. He un-
wrapped the lamp and showed it to Lee. The piece
of newspaper he left in Lee’s room. He testified fur-
ther that he had picked up the newspaper just as he
was leaving the store, and that he recalled definitely
that on its margin he had written some figures, total-
ing $2.04, representing the purchases of his last cus-
tomer for the day. It will be remembered that this
description fitted the piece of paper in which Miss
Brownell’s legs were wrapped when found in Battery
Park the following morning. Jensen was able to iden-
tify the newspaper, and this proved one of the most
damaging pieces of evidence against Lee.

It appears that the younger woman, Mrs Bennett,
was murdered merely because she chanced into Lee’s
apartment and found evidence of his first crime. Mrs
Loman, the next-door neighbor, testified that during
the early hours of the morning of the ninth of July
she was kept awake by hacking and pounding that
seemed to come from the cellar of the Brownell
house. Later in the morning she saw Lee carrying a
bundle and she stopped him and asked what the trou-
ble was, what had caused all the noise. Lee’s calm
rejoinder was: “Oh, did you hear that? The pipes
are stuffed up. I went out and bought a barrel of
lye.”

The amassing of all this evidence reflected great
credit on the police, particularly on the Emergency

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER AND THE POLICE 205

Squad. Our job in the Medical Examiner’s Office
was to reconstruct the hacked bodies sufficiently for
identification. We were eventually successful in this,
but our problem would have been infinitely more dif-
ficult without the parts fished out of the street sewer
by the Emergency Crew. .

Lee was a cool customer and continued his bland
denials to the end. But the case, although a purely
circumstantial one, was too strong and the jury after
a short deliberation found him guilty of first-degree
murder. His attorney, Edward J. Reilly of Haupt-
mann Case fame, strove valiantly in behalf of his
client, but even the bag of tricks of this shrewd lawyer
failed to save Lee from the electric chair-4

The police, like the rest of us, have their off days.
They had one in the East Indian “Duel” Case. The
police were called to a cheap Brooklyn tenement
where, lying on a kitchen floor, were the dead bodies
of two East Indians, Jager Signh and Allah Din.
Each had been shot several times and each held a re-
volver in his hand. A fish was lying in the kitchen
sink partially prepared for cooking. The police
jumped to the conclusion that the two men had fought
a duel, perhaps as part of some mystic Hindu ritual.
The medical examiner was frankly skeptical of the
“duel.” The police thereupon traced the guns found
on the bodies. One of them, it turned out, had been
stolen from a Brooklyn garage. By a peculiar coinci-
dence another East Indian worked there as an attend-
ant. After long questioning this man confessed that

200 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

cites my admiration and respect. They are specially
trained members of the Police Department who
travel about in large and speedy auto trucks with
screaming sirens. The truck equipment alone is a
marvel of ingenuity and forethought. They carry
ladders, hooks, special riot guns, tear-gas bombs,
jacks, saws, full carpenter equipment, life belts, rope,
pulmotors and other gadgets too numerous to men-
tion. The word “emergency”, covering as it does a
miscellany of contingencies, is well applied to this
crew. They do everything from bringing down a cat
that got stranded in a tree to rescuing a horse that fell
into a subway excavation. They do much of the un-
usual and difficult, and frequently highly unpleasant,
jobs that come up in police work.
{~ A good case illustrating the work of the Emergency
Squad is that of Ludwig Halvorsen Lee. On the
morning of the ninth of July 1927 a policeman found
in Battery Park, Manhattan, a pair of woman’s legs,
wrapped in a newspaper. After an examination of
these limbs at the Morgue the medical examiner was
able to say that the woman had been elderly—sixty
or seventy—and rather fat, and that the legs had been
disarticulated after death. Apparently we had another
butcher murder case. It was noted that the newspaper
found around the legs was of Brooklyn publication
and that on its margin was a penciled column of fig-
ures totaling $2.04.

The next day, July 10, a Mrs Loman, living next
door to a rooming house at 28 Prospect Place,

THE MEDICAL EXAMINER AND THE POLICE 201

Brooklyn, reported to the police that a woman of her
acquaintance, Mrs Selma Bennett, had entered the
basement of the rooming house the preceding after-
noon for a brief business visit with the janitor and had
not come out. The rooming house was owned and run
by Miss Brownell, a woman of'seventy. A Norwegian
named Ludwig Halvorsen Lee was a curious com-
bination of janitor and star boarder. The old woman
apparently had taken a great liking to him. This Lee
was a thin-faced, tight-lipped, silent man.

A detective was sent to 28 Prospect Place to inves-
tigate. Lee answered his ring and invited him in.
Asked if he knew anything about where Mrs Bennett
was, Lee said: “No, I don’t. She came here last night,
stayed about five minutes and then left.” The detec-
tive noticed an unpleasant odor in the place. Pushing
past Lee into the kitchen, he picked up a towel and
put it to his nostrils. He was almost nauseated by the
odor of decaying animal matter that emanated from
it. Following his nose to the cellar door, he opened
the door just long enough for one sniff. The fumes
nearly knocked him over. He turned around to see
Lee starting to leave the house. “Where are you go-
ing?” said the detective. “Oh, I just remembered
something I forgot to buy,” replied Lee. “You stay
with me,” he was told. The detective took Lee with
him to the police station where he reported what he
had found to his superiors.

In a short time the place was swarming with police
officers and the Emergency Crew had got to work.

238 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

But cases frequently arise where the accused ac-
cepts the ballistics expert’s conclusion that the death
bullet came from, say, a Colt 45—the type of auto-
matic found on the accused—but says that lots of
people have Colt 45s and challenges the authorities
to prove that the bullet came from his particular gun.
Now it happens that the cutting edges of the tools
used in rifling gun barrels always have slight imper-
fections, and these imperfections are reproduced in
the barrel. Also, after a gun is fired a number of times
further slight irregularities arise in the barrel; and
scratches may be introduced in cleaning. So that no
two gun barrels, even of identical make, are exactly
alike. All these imperfections and peculiarities of
the bore are faithfully recorded by every bullet fired
from the gun. When the problem comes up of prov-
ing that a certain bullet recovered from a body was
fired from a particular gun, the ballistics men take
the gun into the laboratory and fire test bullets into
cotton waste (to avoid distortion). Then they exam-
ine the test bullet and the murder bullet with an in-
strument known as a comparison microscope. This is
essentially two microscopes, one for each bullet, so
hooked up that the observer sees what appears to be
one bullet but is in reality the upper half of the one
and the lower half of the other. Either of the bullets
can be rotated around its long axis. The observer ro-
tates one of them until the grooves in the two halves
match; that is, until he is looking at corresponding
sides of each. Then he searches for the telltale little

FIREARMS AND BALLISTICS 239

imperfections. If these accidental marks match on
both bullets—and he charts sometimes dozens of them
before he will make a decision—he is safe in saying
that the murder bullet was fired from the gun in ques-
tion.

This comparison microscope work is not by any
means as easy as it sounds. Much practice and pa-
tience—particularly patience—are required. It is the
routine of the Police Department to have one of the
men in the ballistics laboratory go to the scene of
every shooting with the Homicide Squad and the
medical examiner to get collateral information that
may assist him in his phase of crime detection. The
courts are as yet reluctant to accept ballistics men as
expert witnesses, for it is a new science. So when a
trial involving ballistics testimony comes up the men
take their comparison microscope and their bullets to
the courtroom and set up a laboratory. The jury is
allowed to see with their own eyes the points of cor-
respondence between the two bullets. In this respect
the ballistics expert is more fortunate than the medi-
cal examiner. You can’t do an autopsy in a court-
room.

i On a summer morning in 1930 a Brooklyn police-
man saw a man running from a restaurant and gave
chase. He captured the man, who turned out to be
one Frank Moska. Upon returning to the restaurant
with his captive the officer found that the proprietor
had been shot during a holdup. He was sent to a hos-

288 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

the appearance of a claimant. She explained that
Mary was but thirteen years old and had been a
grammar-school student. She was claiming the body
rather than the child’s own mother because, as she put
it, the mother was “no good.” I was curious to hear
more of the story and after some urging she told me
the following:

Her sister, Mrs S (the child’s mother), and
her “good-for-nothing loafer of a husband” lived in
the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. Despite the
fact that the husband seldom worked and that they
had no visible means of support, whenever she visited
them she found her sister well dressed and amply
supplied with money and jewelry. On one occasion
she made a surprise visit—and discovered her sister
entertaining a Chinese. She was introduced to the
Oriental and learned that his brother ran a prosper-
ous laundry a few blocks away. She suspected that
things were not right, but the sister denied any impli-
cations of misconduct.

The little girl Mary had attended school until her
condition was so obvious that the teachers sent her
home. Instead of going home she went to her aunt,
of whom she was very fond. She tearfully confessed
that her mother had sold her to the Chinese! The aunt
then took the child under her wing, and when she
went into labor sent her to a hospital. She gave birth
to a Chinese infant, and although it cost her her life
the child lived. The aunt thereupon took the baby,
wrapped in a blanket, to the Chinese laundry and

SEX CRIMES 289

laid it on the counter, saying to the proprietor that
she was presenting him with his nephew.

As this is written New York is being shocked by
a series of atrocious attacks by depraved men on little
girls. All of these men are far from normal mentally,
though they may not be legally insane, and many are
victims of tabes dorsalis, or other forms of syphilis in
which the powers of self-control are markedly dimin-
ished.
(/A recent instance of this is the Ossidio Case. At
dawn on the 20th of March 1937 a milkman making
his deliveries noticed a burlap sack on the stoop of a
two-family house in the Ridgewood section of

- Brooklyn. His interest was aroused when he noticed

what appeared to be blood trickling from the sack.
He opened the bag and was horror-stricken to find the
body of a little girl about nine years old. The body
was fully clothed. Assistant Medical Examiner Ruger
arrived at the scene and had the sack removed to a

- near-by police station. On removing the little girl’s

body and examining it he saw that she had been vio-
lently ravished. Her skull was crushed in several
places as by a hammer; she had been dead about eight
hours.

On closer examination Dr Ruger found many
sharply cut hairs of different colors and lengths, both
on the girl’s clothing and body and in the sack. This
suggested to him that a barbershop had been the scene
of the murder. The detectives began an intensive in-
vestigation of all the barbershops in the district. In

240 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

pital, where, before dying, he identified Moska and
another man who was picked up after Moska had im-
plicated him in the crime. At the scene the police
found a Colt 4g-caliber automatic pistol. After some
persuasion the two prisoners admitted the holdup but
steadfastly denied any knowledge of the shooting.
The police succeeded in tracing the gun and showing
that it belonged to Moska. But since there were no
witnesses to the shooting the prosecutor, knowing
juries and criminal lawyers, was not satisfied that he
had an airtight case. The ballistics experts came to
the rescue. The bullet was removed from the dead
man’s body and examined under the comparison
microscope with test bullets fired from Moska’s gun.
The match was perfect. When the case went to trial
the jury believed scientific evidence rather than the
word of a couple of cheap crooks, and both accused
went to the chair. _|

Another case where the ballistics experts saved the
day occurred during the Prohibition Era in a Mid-
western city. A home-brew party was in full blast in
the home of August Greving. One of the guests, Cal-
vin Harper, got rather too much of the foaming re-
freshment under his belt and began making himself
too agreeable to his hostess to suit his host. Where-
upon he was asked to leave. With no good grace he
left, muttering threats against Greving which nobody
took seriously. But several hours later he returned
and rang the doorbell. When Greving came to the
door Harper shot him dead with a revolver. Grev-

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FIREARMS AND BALLISTICS 241

ing’s wife and two other women were eyewitnesses to
the murder. Harper took advantage of the confusion
to get away. He boarded an interurban train for a
neighboring town. Still drunk, he let his gun fall to
the floor of the car, causing its discharge and the
wounding of a passenger. Harper was arrested at the
next stop. Of course the arresting officers had been

- apprised of the murder and recognized Harper and

took him back to town. During the long delay before
the trial two of the three eyewitnesses to the murder
were killed in an automobile accident, and the third
disappeared.

This occurred in a locality that had no medical-
examiner or regular ballistics service, and so no
autopsy had been performed on Greving and no bal-
listics investigation made. But now that the prose-
cutor saw his case collapsing by the disappearance of
the witnesses, he thought belatedly of ballistics. The

‘body was exhumed and the bullet removed. Com-

parison with bullets fired from Harper’s gun proved
beyond question that Harper had fired the fatal shot.
But the district attorney was jittery and made a deal
with Harper whereby he pled guilty to second-degree
murder, with its ten-year penalty. If anyone ever de-
served a first-degree conviction this man did.

(During the late unlamented Prohibition-nurtured
gangster era for some months a hoodlum dubbed by
the newspaper headline writers “Two-gun Crowley”
gloried in the title, “Public Enemy Number One.”
Francis Crowley was wanted by the New York police

242 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

for a number of crimes. The detectives were tipped
off that Crowley could be found at a certain Broad-
way address. The place was covered, and eventually
Crowley was captured. While the arresting officer
was disarming him of one gun the prisoner drew
another from his coat sleeve, shot the officer fatally in
the abdomen, and escaped. The recovered bullet
proved to have been fired from a Colt 38 automatic.

Sometime later, during a holdup in the city, several
shots were fired by one of the robbers, all of whom
made their escape. The ballistics laboratory reported
that the bullets came from Two-gun Crowley's auto-
matic. Soon after there was a successful pay-roll rob-
bery in the office of a coal company which involved
gunplay. Here again, Crowley was identified as a
participant by the ballistics men. The record runs on
this way for several chapters. Crowley was literally
getting away with murder, and the police seemed
powerless to stop him. But he should have remem-
bered one thing: never shoot a cop. That is absolutely
taboo. Those who have killed cops and haven’t even-
tually paid for it would make a small group.

And certainly don’t ever so far forget yourself as
to kill two cops. That is what Crowley did. Officer
Hirsch was patrolling his beat in a New York subur-
ban town on Long Island one night when he noticed
a parked car occupied by two people. As I recall the
story, the officer was merely trying to curb spooning
on the public highway. As he approached the car to
admonish the man and girl, a pistol shot rang out in

FIREARMS AND BALLISTICS 243

the night. Hirsch crumpled up, dead, and the car
sped off. Again the shot had come from Francis
Crowley’s gun.

Not very long after that the police closed in on
Crowley in the upper West Side Manhattan apart-
ment where he had been living all those months. This

- time they were too wary to be caught by the extra-

gun-in-the-sleeve ruse, and this formidable bad man
of, I hope, a forever-vanished epoch surrendered as
meekly as a lamb. A few months later Crowley suc-
cumbed to the tender ministrations of Mr Robert
Elliot, electrocutioner at Sing Sing.

Early in October 1933 a man was held up in his
drugstore in Brooklyn, and the robbers took from
him, among other things, a 32-caliber Colt revolver,
serial number 182921. Several weeks later Sigmund
Berkowitz was shot and killed in an attempted hold-
up of his haberdashery store in Brooklyn. The police
did not connect these two crimes until, in the follow-
ing month, they arrested four occupants of an auto-
mobile who had in their possession a 32-caliber Colt
revolver with the serial number filed off. The crime
laboratory succeeded in “raising” the figures and
making them legible. The serial number was 182921.
Further ballistics tests showed that the bullet that
killed the haberdasher Berkowitz was fired from that
gun. On this evidence the men were tried for murder
and convicted.

The following story, which does not lack the ele-
ments of the bizarre, shows that the ballistics labora-

290 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

one, that run by an Italian named Ossidio, they found
blood on the floor in a room behind the shop. When
Ossidio was located his shoes and clothing were found
to be bloodstained, and the blood group checked with
that of the child. In the girl’s hand was found
clutched a torn and bloodstained piece of newspaper.
In the room back of Ossidio’s shop the newspaper
from which the piece had been torn was discovered.

When questioned, Ossidio was unable to account
satisfactorily for his time, and it was not long before
he broke down and confessed to the rape murder. He
had lured the girl into the back room with candy.
There he beat her into unconsciousness with a ham-
mer and assaulted her. The beating resulted in multi-
ple fractures of the skull which, on autopsy, were
found to correspond in size and shape with the end
of a bloodstained hammer later found in the shop.
Ossidio was speedily brought to trial and was sen-
tenced to the electric chair. It developed that he was
a yictim of syphilis, , pee

The McFarland Case was a double rape murder.
About six o’clock one morning last winter I was
called to an address in the quiet Bay Ridge section
of Brooklyn. The police were waiting for me. They
led me into the living room, where I saw the body
of a pretty young girl, Florence, lying on the floor.
She was apparently about sixteen years of age and
had been dead six or eight hours. She lay on her back
with her hands outstretched; she was fully dressed
except for her shoes which lay near by. Cursory ex-

SEX CRIMES 291

amination revealed no marks of violence. Going
through to the kitchen, I found an unfinished meal
for two on the table.

In the cellar of the home, suspended from a cross
beam by a heavy insulated wire around her neck, was
the body of Mrs M , an elderly widow, the
grandmother of Florence. The other occupants of the
two-family house told me that the grandmother had
been very fond of Florence, and my hasty conclusion
was that the two had had some disagreement during
dinner which so preyed upon the old lady that she
went down into the cellar and committed suicide. I
supposed further that Florence, on discovering the
tragedy of her grandmother, had killed herself with
some poison.

This hasty conclusion was soon disproved. On cut-
ting down the body of the elderly widow I found that
the marks of the wire around her neck did not slant
backward and upward to the point of suspension, as
they do in all authentic hanging cases, but were hori-
zontal in direction. I knew then I was dealing with
murder rather than suicide by hanging. Both bodies
were immediately taken to the Morgue for autopsy.

The body of Mrs M , a woman of about
seventy, showed the typical signs of death from
asphyxia: eyes bloodshot, tongue protruding between
the teeth, and hemorrhagic spots underneath the
scalp. There were also bruises on the lips that might
have been caused by a blow on the mouth, and the
breastbone was crushed in as if by the pressure of a

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292 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

knee. The autopsy also showed that the woman had
been raped.

The body of the girl Florence showed small
scratches on the throat and other signs that indicated
asphyxia from smothering. Examination of the geni-
talia gave unmistakable evidence of rape with ex-
treme violence; the girl had been a virgin.

Inquiry among the neighbors brought out the fact
that a son-in-law of Mrs M , one McFarland,
had been seen entering the house the evening before
at dinnertime. He was a widower with two children
and worked in a varnish factory somewhere in
Queens. No one else had been seen to enter the home.
An alarm was sent out for this man and he was soon
found and brought to the police station. His clothing
was carefully examined and bloodstains were found
on his shoes and underclothing. This blood belonged
to the same group as that of Florence. Confronted
with this evidence, he confessed that he had assaulted
and murdered both his mother-in-law and his niece,
giving as an excuse that he was intoxicated at the
time. He was brought to trial and, although he pled
insanity, he was sent to the chai.

The question may fairly Soa What makes

people commit crimes like those of Ossidio or of Mc-
Farland? It is no answer to attribute them to lust,
uncontrollable passion or degeneracy. This is about
like ascribing tuberculosis to poor health. It must be
borne in mind, however, that the problem of the dis-
ordered mind is an extremely intricate one, and that

SEX CRIMES 293

the psychiatrist is seldom on as sure ground as is the
pathologist with his microscope.

Generally speaking, individuals who commit rape
murders show definite deviations from normal sexual
development. Every person attempts to attain satis-
faction socially, economically, culturally and sexu-
ally in his own way. The methods selected are depend-
ent upon his background, training, physical equip-
ment and so on. Frequently the causation for anti-
social acts may be traced to the fact that a gratifica-
tion was realized and then rudely withdrawn. In such
a case a smoldering urge for retaliation and revenge
might under suitable conditions flare up and set the
stage for a crime of violence.

The case of Harry W , aged twenty-nine, an
ex-sailor, is illustrative. He had been charged and
convicted of rape and murder on a ten-year-old girl,
and on his plea of insanity was ordered to a hospital
for the insane for observation. This was not his first
sexual offence but it was his first murder. Dr Cassity
probed into his past in the hope of finding some start-
ing point. He was at first disappointed, for the man
came from ordinary middle-class people and nothing
abnormal in his antecedents could be discovered. He
had gone in rather intensively for athletics and was
not by any means unprepossessing in build and ap-
pearance. But despite this ““‘he-man” side of his nature
he had never shown any interest in girls or women of
his own age. These meager facts, however, were in-
sufficient to base any conclusions on.

300 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

tions made at the scene give collateral information
as to time of death. There is, for example, the nature
of the food found in the stomach and the extent to
which digestion had gone. In the case of males the
length of the beard hair gives a clue as to the time
since the last shave. This can be roughly estimated by
shaving some hairs from the chin and measuring
them. Beard hair grows at the rate of about one six-
tieth of an inch a day. If a watch is found on the
body and is stopped, the time indicated on its face
may mark the hour of its owner’s death. If it is run-
ning, the time required for it to run down indicates
when it was last wound. If the body is found in water
the watch is generally stopped, and the time shown
corresponds within a minute or so to the time of sub-
mersion.

A number of cases have already been cited where
the most difficult and important part of the medical
examiner’s job was to determine the identity of the
deceased. The Brooklyn Butcher Murder Case was
outstanding in this respect. Another is the Flushing
Nurse Murder, in which the Emergency Crew and
the Homicide Squad detectives from police head-
quarters as well as the Medical Examiner’s Office
played important parts.

\ Several years ago a tenant of an exclusive apart-
ment house in a quiet residential section of Flushing
complained to the superintendent of an unpleasant
odor in the building. The superintendent, a small
Scot named McClosky, apparently was either un-

RECONSTRUCTIONS AND IDENTIFICATIONS = 301

able or unwilling to do much about the tenant’s com-
plaint, and the lady with the sensitive nose went to
the local police station and an officer was sent back
with her to investigate. The detective started syste-
matically in the basement. His suspicions were im-
mediately aroused when he found a lively fire burning
in the furnace, although it was a warm day in sum-
mer. He also checked the tenant on the presence of
a noxious odor, which was even stronger in the
cellar. 3

The officer notified his superiors, who sent the
Homicide Squad men over. They found the little
Scottish superintendent evasive about answering
questions and he was immediately under suspicion.
The detective in charge had a hunch that a human
body was being burned up in that furnace, and he
ordered the fire put out and the coals and ashes ex-
amined for evidence of this. In a short time the
Emergency Crew fished out of the smoldering coals
a human head from which the hair had all been
burned. The soft parts were so charred that the face
was utterly unrecognizable. An examination of the
head showed that it had been severed cleanly by some
sharp instrument from the spinal column.

This led naturally to a search for the remaining
parts of the body. Guided by their noses, the Emer-
gency Crew got to work on a coal pile in a corner of
the cellar. Under this enormous twenty-ton pile
which the crew had to shovel away they found the
torso of a female from which both the upper and

302 THE DOCTOR LOOKS AT MURDER

lower extremities had been disarticulated. Called to
the scene, I joined the detectives in a further search
of the basement and the superintendent’s apartment.
In the latter I found in the bathroom under the tub,
as well as on the edge of the tub, suspicious stains,
scrapings of which I took with me to the Morgue.
A search of the kitchen disclosed a heavy knife which
was bloodstained.

At the Morgue I examined the parts and was able
to conclude that the deceased had been a blonde fe-
male, about thirty years old, five feet two inches tall,
weighing about one hundred twenty-five pounds.
The bloodstains found in the superintendent’s bath-
room and on the kitchen knife proved to belong to
the same group as the blood of the blonde girl.

McClosky held out for a while with the usual
blanket assertions of innocence, but when he realized
the extent of the evidence against him he broke down
and confessed. The girl had been a casual acquaint-
ance whom he had “picked up” in an elevated sta-
tion. She had come to his place a number of times.
Then one night they quarreled, and the little Scot
in a fit of rage stabbed her to death. His plan for
disposing of the body was obvious. McClosky didn’t
know the girl’s name. All he knew about her was that
she was a trained nurse who had mentioned once that
she trained in a school of nursing in Philadelphia.

Here, as in the Brooklyn Butcher Case, we were
concerned about our inability to identify the girl, in
view of the district attorney’s intent to try McClosky

eee remem

RECONSTRUCTIONS AND IDENTIFICATIONS — 303

for first-degree murder. Although McClosky had
confessed, we all knew that according to New York
State law an uncorroborated confession cannot stand
in a murder trial. The only clue we had to the girl's
identity was McClosky’s statement that she had taken
nursing training im Philadelphia, but that by itself
would have been pretty hopeless. From my autopsy
I was able to furnish what proved to be the crucial
clue. On the girl’s abdomen I noted a peculiar scar of
operation, quite unusual in its shape and location.
At my suggestion detectives were sent to Philadel-
phia, where they canvassed all the nurses’ training
schools, going over the records of nurses who had
been operated on while in training. Eventually they
found what they were seeking—a record that a cer-
tain surgeon had performed this unusual operation
on a student nurse (who corresponded in size, weight,
age and physical appearance to my reconstruction
from the parts found in the Flushing cellar).

The surgeon consented to accompany the detec-
tives to New York in the hope of identifying his
handiwork. He came to the Morgue and after in-
specting the torso was able to swear, from the char-
acter of the scar and its age, that this was the body of
the girl upon whom he had operated several years
before. The identity of the corpse was thus estab-
lished, and with this vital link our chain of evidence
was complete. McClosky died in the Sing Sing elec-
tric chair.)

The Case of “The Sheik” is another in which the

6 A SLAVE FRADER,

spect, but advanced in years, were forced upon his notice and com-
pany. ‘The result was that it was only towards the close of the
ball that this scion of royalty was free to exercise his own fancy
in the matter of selecting partners from among the youthful beau-
ties present.

Toward the close of 1860 I was placed in command of the
Twentieth Ward. The trial of Captain Nathaniel Gordon, the
slave trader, occurred the following year and excited a great deal
of public attention. Gordon was master of the ship “ Erie,” and
sailed from Havana for the west coast of Africa, having on board
everything considered necessary for carrying on the slave trade.
Near the mouth of the Congo River he shipped nine hundred ne-
groes, male and female, who were packed in the hold without ven-
tilation. He then set sail for Cuba, but when about fifty miles
from his journey’s end he was captured by the United States man-
of-war “ Michigan,” and conveyed, together with such of his human
freight as had survived that awful passage, to Monravia. Upon
his second trial—the jury having failed to agree upon a verdict in
the first instance—he was convicted, and sentence of death was
passed upon him by Judge Shipman. ‘ Remember,” said the
Judge, ‘that you showed mercy to none—carrying off, as you
did, not only those of your own sex, but women and helpless
children. Do not flatter yourself that, because they belonged to
a different race from yourself, your guilt is therefore lessened.
Rather fear that it is increased. Do not imagine that, because
others shared in the guilt of this enterprise, yours is thereby di-
minished ; but remember the awful admonition of the Bible:
‘Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpun-
ished.’” His execution was fixed for February 7, 1862, and the
most strenuous exertions were made by Gordon’s relatives and
friends, particularly his devoted wife and mother, to save the man
from the gallows. They even went to Washington together in the
hope of obtaining a pardon from the President. Their efforts
were in vain, but a respite of two weeks was granted. On the
evening previous to the day set for his execution, Gordon took a
most affecting farewell of his family. Mrs. Gordon, together with
the prisoner’s aged mother, called at the prison about six
o’clock in the evening and remained an hour or more. He re-
ceived them in a most affectionate manner and talked most
tenderly of his little son; who was absent, He appeared to

HANGING OF GORDON, THE SLAVE TRADER.

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62 - HICKS, THE PIRATE,

made a confession of his guilt. He was hanged on July 13,
1860, and maintained his coolness and bravado to the very last.
The scaffold was erected only a short distance from the shore, and
the execution was witnessed by a large number of persons,

The same year that this horrible crime was committed, the first
embassy from Japan visited New York. ‘This was on the 16th of
June, and the arrival of the Japanese was made an excuse for
festivities of the most elaborate character. The members of the
embassy arrived on the steamer “ Alida,” and enormous crowds
assembled at the Battery where they landed. Their journey up
town was a continuous ovation. More than six thousand soldiers
were in line. One of the notable incidents of the visit was the
“matinee” given by Mrs. James Gordon Bennett in honor of the
two Japanese princes at Fort Washington. Three thousand invi-
tations were issued, and Delmonico was told to spare no expense
in preparing the collation. A grand ball was ziven by the Munici-
pal authorities at the Metropolitan Hotel, the tickets of admission
to which commanded a premium of $30. ‘The hotel and Niblo’s
Garden were profusely decorated with flowers. ‘The supper rooms
were opened at ro P.M. ‘Ten thousand bottles of champagne were
drunk. The crush was terrible, and before morning the floors
were literally washed with wine. ‘This was one of the most costly
banquets ever given by the city of New York, It was estimated
that the festivities cost between $90,000 and $100,000.

It was on Thursday, at 2 p.M., October 11, 1860, that the Prince
of Wales landed at Castle Garden, and was escorted to the Fifth
Avenue Hotel by the military and police. The Prince rode in a
barouche drawn by six horses. Broadway made a beautiful dis-
play of bunting, and the Prince was continually greeted with
cheers. A grand serenade was given him at midnight. A splen-
did ball, which I attended, was given in the evening of the second
day at the Academy of Music. The Prince arrived at 10 P.M.,
and shortly after, to the great dismay of the enormous crowd, the
ball-room floor gave way, and the police had hard work to keep the
crowd back. ‘The Prince folded his hands and looked on without
emotion. After repairs had been made the Prince opened the
ball with Mrs. Governor Morgan. ;

At this ball, as at all others tendered him in various parts of the
country, partners were assigned the Prince who were evidently not

to his taste. As a general rule, ladies very estimable in every re- .

BALL

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WAL

PRINCE OF

Recollections of a New York Chief of Police
first published 1887 by the Caxton Book Concern
Republished 1890 with the addition of
Historic Supplement of the Denver Police

Reprinted 1972 by Patterson Smith Publishing Corporation

Montclair, New Jersey 07042

New material copyright © 1972 by
Patterson Smith Publishing Corporation

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Walling, George Washington, 1823-1891.
Recollections of a New York chief of police.
(Patterson Smith reprint series in criminology, law

enforcement, and social problems. Publication no. 133)
Reprint of the 1890 ed. with a new introduction and

index. : :

=. New York (City)—Police. 2. Crime and crim-
inals—New York (City). I. Title.

HV8148.NS5W3 1972 363.2'097471 70-129311

ISBN 0-87585-133-9

This book is printed on
permanent/durable paper

LAW CENTER LIBE.AR

INTRODUCTION TO THE
REPRINT EDITION

Grorce WALLING’s Recollections of a New York Chief of
Police first appeared in 1887, two years after his retirement as
superintendent of the New York Police Department. In 1890 a
second edition was published, consisting of the original text with
the addition of A. Kaufmann’s “Historic Supplement of the
Denver Police.” This reprinting also contains both the Walling
and the Kaufmann material.

Arthur Schlesinger, in his The Rise of the City, asserted that
the 1880s marked the emergence of the city as the major force in
American life and the time when Americans came to realize that
theirs was to be an urban future. Recognition of the United States
as a society dominated by its cities may have come a decade or
two earlier, but certainly the 1880s saw a spate of books acclaim-
ing urban growth or lamenting urban pathology. In the latter
category were such classics as Josiah Strong’s Our Country,
which features urbanization and its consequences and in which
most of the chapter-titles begin with the word “Perils” ; and The
American Commonwealth by James Bryce, the perceptive Eng-
lishman who observed that municipal government was the one
corispicuous failure of American society.

Crime and the police occupied an important position in the
literature on the city, from lurid exposés of the “sins of the great
city,” which could serve as guides to where the action was, to
sober discussions of how urban politics could be restored to the
control of gentlemen and made respectable again. Journalists sup-
plied magazines and Sunday newspapers with accounts of famous
crimes and successful detectives, while moralists called for police

RY
UNIV. OF ALABAIM «

r “ WELL, OUR GAME IS uP.”
'

on account of your obstinacy in resisting the execution of a proc-
ess, Your duty is to submit to arrest by the officers of the law,

and if you refuse, and further blood is shed, the consequences will

be on your head.”

Just at this moment George W. Matsell, who had continued to
act as Chief of Police under Wood, entered the door and said,
exultingly: ‘Mr. Mayor, the Metropolitans came and we’ve beat
them off.”

The Mayor refused to allow himself to be arrested, and we, de-
siring to avoid another combat, retired and consulted. Soon after,
the Seventh Regiment was seen gayly marching down Broadway to
take the boat for Boston, where it was to have a grand reception.
The Police Board called upon General Sanford for assistance.
The regiment was halted, the trumpets were stilled, and the regi-
ment marched into the Park. It formed in line in front of the
City Hall, facing the Mayor’s window.

Matsell and his men looked out at the exhibition, and said to
one another: ‘“ Well, our game is up.”

Their conclusion seemed to be correct, for General Sanford
walked into the City Hall by the side of. Street Commissioner
Conover, and the writ was read to the obstinate mayor.

Wood saw that further resistance would be not only futile but
wicked, and he submitted to arrest. The conflict between the
State and the city was over. The Metropolitans had won. By an
arrangement the Municipals held their places for a month after
that, during which both the “old” and the “new” were on duty,
saluting each other on their beats. But it was observed by all
men that in this conflict of authority and the anomalous conditions
which accompanied it, the city had become demoralized. The re-
pression of crime had been neglected, thieving had become ram-
pant, and law-breakers had ceased to respect or fear the officers of
the law. The succeeding troubles followed as a matter of course.

One thing I should mention in connection with this conflict of
authorities. Those officers of the Metropolitan police who had

been wounded in the affray sued Mayor Wood for their injuries,

and employed Mr. David Dudley Field as their counsel. Mr,
Charles O’Connor was retained for the defendant, against whom a
verdict was rendered for each of the plaintiffs for $250, together
with the total costs, amounting to about $13,000, The defendant

THE DIAMOND WEDDING. 61

never paid the money. It was finally put in the caa levy by the
Legislature, and the city eventually paid both damages and costs.

A great crowd thronged old St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Mott
Street early on the morning of October 13, 1859, to witness the
marriage of Miss Frances Amelia Bartlett, daughter of Lieutenant
W. A. Bartlett, of No. 59 West Fourteenth Street,and Don Este-
ban Sancta Cruz de Oviedo, a very wealthy Cuban planter. The
ceremony took place at noon, and was performed by Archbishop
Hughes. The reception following this wedding was so thronged
that detectives were sent to watch the house. The jewels, ordered
from Tiffany’s, cost $50,000; the bride’s wardrobe was valued at
$15,000. A few days after the wedding Mr. Edmund Claretice
Stedman published a satirical poem on the humorous features of
the event.. This he entitled “The Diamond Wedding.” ‘The
poem angered Lieutenant Bartlett, and he sent a challenge to Mr.
Stedman. The poet refused to apologize, and Mr. Bartlett with-
drew his challenge.

The trial of Hicks, the pirate, occurred in 1860. He was one of
the crew of the oyster sloop “ E. A. Johnson,” which left this port
on March 16, for Deep Creek, Virginia. The crew of the sloop con-
sisted of Captain Burr, Oliver and Smith Watts (boys), and a man
who had shipped under the name of William Johnson. He after-
wards turned out to be Hicks. Five days after the sloop left New
York she was picked up at sea and towed to Fulton Market slip.
There was no one on board, and everything was in confusion.
The cabin floor and furniture, as well as the bedding, were spat-
tered and stained with blood. The scene was a ghastly one. The
day previous to the finding of the sloop, Johnson, it was afterwards
discovered, had returned to his home in New York, with a large
amount of money in his possession. He had immediately started
for Providence, R. J., with his wife and child. He was followed
and arrested, but denied that he had ever been on the sloop, or
that his name was Johnson. A watch belonging to Captain Burr,
and a photograph given to Oliver Watts by a young lady, were
found on him, however, and his. identity was also established in
many other ways. His name, he said, was Albert E. Hicks.

Notwithstanding his protestations of innocence, he was found
guilty of the murders, and sentenced to be hanged on Bedloe’s
Island, where the statue of Liberty Enlightening the World has
been erected. While in the Tombs after trial and conviction, Hicks

+ -

404 A TERRIBLE STRUGGLE.

from the maker, a man named Welch, and Dorcey searched a great
many pawnshops, but without finding what he wanted. One day,
however, the proprietor of a small loan office on Chatham Street
brought me a watch which he thought answered the description of

the one taken from Mr. Noe. Sure enough it did, in every respect

but the number. Mr. Welch, the maker, called with the informa-
tion that he had inadvertently given me the wrong number. — Plac-
ing the watch which I had received before him, he declared it was
the one he had made for Mr. Noe.

A few days subsequent to this it was found that a cane with a
monkey’s head in metal for a handle had been seen in the pos-
session of James Dolan, a well-known “tough,” by Hendricks,
who kept a coffee-and-cake saloon on Chatham Street. The blue-
bordered handkerchief, too, was identified as belonging to Dolan by
two girls of the town with whom he was on intimate terms.
Dolan was arrested, and on his trial was fully identified as having
pawned the watch. He was convicted of the crime and suffered
the extreme penalty of the law in the Tombs. He never made
any formal confession of his guilt, but when a son of the murdered
man published what purported to be the conversation between his
father and the murderer, Dolan exclaimed:

“That’s a lie! I never said anything of the kind,” thus practi-
cally admitting that he was the man.

The last day of the year 1868 was ushered in by a heavy snow-
storm. The pure soft flakes fell noisclessly on the pavement until
its nakedness was hidden beneath a mantle of white. On East
Twelfth Street, as early as seven o’clock, an elderly gentleman,
named Charles M. Rogers, was in front of his residence, at No. 42,
sweeping the fallen substance into the street. As he swung his
broom, keeping time with a tune which he was humming, a rough-
looking man crossed the street and approached him. As he got
near he made a dart at old Mr. Rogers’s watch and pocket-book,
and transferred them to the side pocket of his blue flannel sack
coat. But when the highway robber tried to make off with his
booty he found he was restrained. The old man had him tightly
held. Then began a terrible struggle. The thief fought like a
demon to get free, but Mr. Rogers’s gripwas firm. Finally the as-
sailant reached a hand for the knife which he had concealed about
him, and drawing it, plunged it into the bowels of his antagonist.
Then with an extra effort he broke away, and the old man fell

wv<«

THE CARLETON HOUSE MYSTERY. : 4,05

over, clutching a portion of his assailant’s coat which ha - parted
in the struggle.

All this happened in broad daylight, and not a few persons were
in the street. Yet so far as is known no human eye witnessed the
murder, for such it was. A few minutes later Rogers was dis-
covered dying on his own doorstep. He muttered a few words
which outlined the story as above told, and then died.

Firmly grasped in the murdered man’s right hand was the part
of the coat which he had torn from the assassin. The snow was
gory with blood. Near by was the garroter’s hat and knife
sheath. In the pocket of the torn part of the coat was the watch
and wallet of Mr. Rogers, and an envelope with the inscription:
“James Logan, New York City. This will be handed you by
Tom.”

This the police considered a good clew, and at once commenced
a vigorous search for James Logan. A man with this name was
found to be living in the upper part of the city, and he was arrested.
It was ascertained that he was a plasterer by trade, and, strangely
enough, a small quantity of plaster was found in the pocket of the
coat torn from the murderer. Then, too, he was proved to have
been in the vicinity of Twelfth Street shortly before the murder.
These were suspicious circumstances, but he explained his pres-
ence on Twelfth Street by stating that, in company with a friend,
he had spent the night in a house near by. This was ascertained
to be true, and being otherwise of a good character he was dis-
charged from custody.

The true “James Logan,” however, has never been discovered,
and who it was that murdered Mr. Rogers is likely to remain
forever a mystery. Many individuals bearing the name of Logan
were looked up and “ shadowed,” but no definite results followed.

What is known as the Carleton House mystery created a great
sensation at the time it was discovered. The affair is still as much
of a mystery asever, but the people have forgotten it.

The Carleton House is situated at the corner of William and
Frankford streets, and is a tall building, occupied by many different
kinds of people. It has in times past had rather a bad reputation.
The traditions which cluster around its mouldering walls tell tales
of crime which gain horror with age. It was just the building for

ae s

412 SCENE IN THE PARIS FLATS,

Conkling, therefore, gave up his idea of re-uniting husband and
wife, but he set himself at work to separate his sister and her par-
amour. She finally appeared to acquiesce in her brother’s wishes,
and it was arranged that on a certain evening she should go to the
Leland Hotel (where her brother was a guest), place herself under
his protection and abandon Haverstick forever. Conkling had so
much faith in his sister’s decision that he made preparations for
their journey westward.

Mrs. Uhler, however, did not keep the appointment at the
Leland House, and her brother went to the Paris Flats, resolved to
do something desperate if he could not tear his sister from the
arms of the man who had betrayed her. Conkling had little to
fear personally, although he was much the inferior in physique
of Haverstick, who was a swart, brawny individual, taller and
broader than the man who sought to remedy the disgrace into
which he had brought Mrs. Uhler. But Conkling had the advant-
age of having passed several years as a frontiersman, and also
of being a strictly temperate person. When he entered the little
bijou of an apartment on the third floor, which had been fitted up
handsomely by the guilty pair, he was confronted by Haverstick,
who demanded his purpose, well knowing, through a confession by
Mrs. Uhler, for what hecame. Conkling said boldly that he had
come to take his sister away at all hazards, and that when he left
the house she should accompany him. Haverstick bullied and
Conkling made a pathetic appeal to his sister, which was offset
by an equally urgent appeal from Haverstick. The woman hes-
itated, and the men grew more and more angry until at last, after
Conkling had denounced the seducer’s villany in galling terms,
Haverstick seized a Dresden vase from the mantle-piece and
hurled it at his victim’s brother.

Conkling was accustomed on the frontier to the use of fire-arms
and knew the necessity of quick action in an emergency. Before
the vase, which missed him, was dashed against the wall of the
room, his hand grasped his pistol. Justas Haverstick was about
to throw the companion vase Conkling levelled his weapon, a shot
rang out, and the bullet pierced Haverstick in the centre of his
body. Conkling threw aside his pistol, cast a glance at Haver-
stick, who had fallen and was leaning on his arm gazing appeal-
ingly at the sister’s avenger, walked out of the apartment, brushed
aside his half-frantic relative, and going to the Grand Opera

“GoD BLESS MY MOTHER.” 413

House surrendered himself to Officer J. W. Mantell, of the Six-
teenth Precinct. |

Meanwhile physicians were summongd to the Paris Flats, where
they found that Haverstick was mortally wounded. Although
fully cognizant that his end was near, he was loath at first to name
his assailant, probably from feelings of remorse; but at last he
endeavored to raise himself from his bed, on which he had been
lying, and in a burst of passion exclaimed :

“George Conkling shot me—shot me down like a dog. But I
forgive him. I don’t think he meant to kill me.”

Then he sank back on his pillow and murmured as in a dream:

“ God bless my mother!”

A few moments later he was dead. The homicide did not ex-
cite any feeling of animosity towards Conkling. By the general
public it was considered the avenging of Mr. Uhler and the honor
of the Conkling family. Young Conkling readily procured bail.
Mrs. Uhler was deeply affected by the tragedy, and was in con-
stant hysterics for several days. At the inquest, however, after
acknowledging her disgrace without reserve, she told the story of
her brother’s endeavor toseparate her from the man with whom
she had become infatuated. She gave testimony which was very
favorable to the defendant. The outcome of the inquest was that
Conkling was held for trial on the following extraordinary ver- |
dict:

“ We find that Wilbur H. Haverstick came to his death by a
pistol-shot wound in the abdomen, fired by George W. Conkling,
Jr., on the evening of March 19, 1883, at 341 West ‘Twenty-third
Street, and that the shot was fired under great provocation,”

After Mr. Conkling obtained bail he went West, came back to
be tried for the crime, was acquitted and went West again to die.

Mrs. Uhler did not reform. She contracted the opium habit,
and died a wretched death in this city.

When Nancy Francis, the cook at Mrs. Jane Lawrence De For-
rest Hull’s boarding house at No. 140 West Forty-second Street,
went to her mistress’s room at seven o’clock on the morning of June
11, 1879, to awaken her, she shrieked with terror. The sight which
met her gaze was terrible to behold. Mrs. Hull lay flat on her
back; there was a bandage tied tightly around her eyes, her throat
was bound and bed-clothes were stuffed into her mouth, her hands
and legs were each fastened to the sides of the bed with strips

4! STRAPPED TO THE BED.

of linen torn from the sheets. Her face was purple and cold as
death. When the bandage was removed from her eyes they were
found to be burned, and the lashes and brows singed. The odor
of cologne permeated the atmosphere.’ The woman was dead.

‘It is needless to say there was an uproar in that house. Mrs,
Hull was the wife of Dr. Alonzo G. Hull, and about fifty-eight years
old. She weighed about two hundred pounds. There were about
a dozen boarders in the house, who rushed from their rooms in
alarm when they heard the cook’s shrieks. When they discovered
that their landlady had been murdered they were highly excited.
The police were immediately called, and Captain Williams was
soon in possession of the house. He thought that the enormity of
the crime was sufficient to warrant my presence, and at a special
summons from him I went to the house.

I found that the room in which the murder had occurred—for
that such it was there could be no doubt—was a small.one, 12 x 6
feet, at the end of the hallway. There was every evidence that
a robbery had been committed. A ring had been torn from Mrs.
Hull’s finger, and a gold watch, chain, an enamelled ring, a dia-
mond ringand a topaz necklace were missing. Much silverware
and jewellery, however, were undisturbed. A colored servant,
Nellie West, had found the front door of the house open at five
A.M. The thief and murderer had evidently been familiar with
the house.

A post-mortem examination was held, and revealed the fact that
Mrs. Hull had died of suffocation. Her lungs and brain were con-
gested. I concluded, after I had learned these facts, that the mur-
der had probably been unintentional. Whether there*was really a
thief in the case I confess I was in doubt. Dr. Hull’s actions
were very peculiar. He seemed toexhibit no special concern, and
I had a suspicion that he was the murderer. I beg his pardon
for the suspicion, but I could not help it. Mrs. Hull had specu-
lated largely in stocks, and when this was known it added to the
complexity of the case. .

Iwent to work at the case with a vim. I found in a few days
after the sad occurrence that some of Mrs. Hull’s stolen jewellery
had been offered for sale in Boston. The watch had been pawned.
When the Boston police ascertained this they telegraphed us a de-
scription of the man who had offered the valuablesfor sale. We
identified it as that of Chastine Cox, alias John Cox, alias William

TRACKED BY A REPORTER. 415

Francis, at one time a waiter in Mrs. Hull’s house, and sent back
word to the police of Boston to find the man if they could.

About a week after this came the news of Cox’s arrest, and the
particulars somewhat surprised us. Mr. W. R. Balch, a reporter
on the Boston Herald, obtained a description of Cox from the
police in the course of his regular duties, and mentally photo-
graphed him. As he was walking along Waltham Street on Mon-
day, June 23, he noticed a negro in front of him who seemed to
answer the description given of Cox. He accordingly followed
him and saw him enter a small church frequented wholly by
colored people on Harrison Avenue. Mr. Balch at once made
known his discovery to Detective Wood, who, with another
officer, went to the church in question. The sexton was requested
to call Cox outside, which he accordingly did, and upon the sus-
pected murderer stepping into the vestibule, he was arrested.
When searched at the police station, Cox had on his person,
besides other things, a revolver and a gold watch. ‘The latter was
at once identified as being one of the articles stolen from Mrs.
Hull’s room on the night the burglary was committed and she was
so brutally murdered. The following day he was brought on to
New York, and shortly after his arrival Cox made what he called
a “confession.” In it he said he entered the house through one
of the front parlor windows which he found unfastened ; and that
when Mrs. Hull! awoke and made an outcry, he tied her hands ©
and feet, put his hands over her face and stuffed up her mouth
with a portion of the bed-clothes. He then went on to say that
while looking round the room for money he suddenly noticed that
Mrs. Hull had ceased to breathe and, seizing a bottle of cologne,
he dashed the liquid on her face. It was too late, however; Mrs.
Hull was dead. Upon his trial he was found guilty, and while
confined in the Tombs under sentence of death, he made what was
undoubtedly a true statement of the facts, which utterly contra-
dicted his former story. In this second confession Cox admitted
having been Mrs. Hull’s lover for some considerable length of
time, and that he had been in the habit of constantly visiting at
night. In fact she had provided him with keys to the house and
her apartment. On the night of the murder he went to her room
as usual. For some days previously he had been playing policy,
and having lost heavily was in need of money. He demanded
the needed amount from Mrs. Hull, who replied that she had no

hed,
A
] b

AT THE PRAYER-MEETING.

PR TEE@RUTH AT LAST. 417

money. Going to the dressing table, Cox snatched up some
jewellery and observed that he would raise money on it and bring
her the pawn-tickets. The unfortunate woman attempted to
snatch the jewellery from his hand; there was a struggle between
the two which only ended in death, as before described.

This statement, together with affidavits to the effect that Cox
had had free access to the house and was intimate with Mrs.
Hull, were laid before the governor. That official, however, re-
fused to interfere with the due execution of the sentence already
imposed. Although the killing of Mrs. Hull, he said, might have
been unpremeditated and unintentional, the crime, nevertheless,
was murder in the first degree, as it was undoubtedly committed
during the attempted burglary of a house in the night time.

Cox was therefore hung at the Tombs, and met his fate with
becoming resignation, so I have been informed by those who wit-
nessed the execution.

be ee sane?

The following cases are mentioned in the article "Killers I
Have Known,” by Sing Sing Warden Lewis E. Lawes, True Police

Cases, 12/1946,p10:

ANTONIO, FARACI & SAETTA, 1924.
APPEL, 1928.

APPLEGATE & CREIGHTON, 1936.
BOHAN, 1939.

BOLOGNA & DiDONNE, 1937.
CROWLEY, 1932.

GRAY & SNYDER, 1928.

HAMBY, 1920.

JANKOWSKY & LEVANDOWSKY, 1920.
KOSNOWSKI, 1927.

KRIESBERG, MARINO, PASQUA & MURPHY,
PARETTI, 1927.

SCHWEINBERGER, 1940.

1934.

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make it hot for them. He gibed the of-
ficers who brought him food. Some of the
other condemned men laughed and ap-
plauded. Thus egged on, Crowley set out
to show just how tough he could be.

Death house inmates are denied
matches but Crowley managed to set fire
to his bed at night with a cigarette lighted
for him, as is the custom, by a guard. Two
officers put out the fire while others re-
strained the prisoner. Left alone, he pro-
ceeded to smash everything in his cell. He
then tore off his clothes to stuff up the
toilet.

Crowley was then removed to another
section of the death house. He was prac-
tically isolated from the other prisoners.
Again he sttiffed the toilet; as a result his
cell was flooded. His clothing was taken
from him, his bed removed, and a mat-
tress was furnished only at night. So there
was the hero, tough Two-Gun Crowley,
standing against the bars, naked.

We let him alone. There was no one
to applaud him in his isolated corner of
the death house. He had no opportunity
to parade himself before his fellow in-
mates.

Three days later Crowley sent for me.
“Let me have a bed and clothes,” he
pleaded, “You'll never have any trouble
with me again.”

I acceded to his request. From ‘then
on the prisoner became a normal person.
He began to spend his time drawing and
making miniature buildings out of news-
papers. His language became moderate.
We permitted him to have some light
wood with which he built a structure
called Crowley's Hotel. He managed to
set up elevators and made small figures
of workmen which he placed inside and
outside the building.

Crowley showed unusual ability along
mechanical lines. Had he received proper
training in childhood, his ability might
have been guided into legitimate chan-
nels. But his schooling had ended with
the third grade. He was practically il-
literate. He had been abandoned by his
father when he was a year old, and his
mother had placed him in a foundling
home. The woman who adopted him was
the only mother Crowley ever knew and
she could never afford to give him a good
bringing-up. It was shameful that Crow-
ley’s talents were first discovered within
the walls of a prison. Perhaps if his life
had been spared he might have de-
veloped into a competent engineer or
mechanic.

On the night of his execution the
twenty-year-old Crowley received a tele-
gram containing an offer of five thousand
dollars—the money to be disposed of as
he directed—if he would sign his name
to a series of articles having to do with
his sensational crimes. Because of institu-

tional restrictions no inmate could enter.

into such an agreement and I so advised
the sender of the wire.

Later I told Crowley about this offer.
He smiled sardonically and made what
was probably the first philosophic com-
ment in all his youthful life: “If my
mother had that five grand when I yas
a kid, I wouldn’t be here today.”

I still cannot help agreeing with him.

128

CROOKS Ayy

ay
Cxtine does pay the Lewiston, Maine,
police department handsomely, when
lawbreakers take a ride in their swanky =
pick-up wagon!

Recently the police commission : there
bought a sleek, brand-new “Black Maria”
and every detective and flatfoot on the
force, mighty proud of that spick-an’-span
wagon designed to haul lawbreakers
speedily to*the Lewiston hoosegow, de-
cided to compel each culprit who took a
ride in the car to fork up one buck for
the honor of being transported in Lewis-
ton’s “Black Maria!”

And that established some sort of
precedent for police-car rides in the
United States—though it must be ad-
mitted not many other~sections of the
union seem to have begun rolling the
jail-wagon about on a strictly cash basis,
much as those on the right side of law
and order would like to do so.

However that might be, in Lewiston
each dollar collected from criminal
“pick-ups” is added to the prisoners’
fines. Thus the cost of the police car
has long since been paid for out of the
pockets of those who break the law
rather than those who very sensibly abide
by it.

It was in New England that the name
“Black Maria,” as applied to police cars,
had its origin. ;

In Colonial days Maria Lee, a giant
Negress weighing nearly three-hundred
pounds and bulging with muscle, oper-
ated a waterfront rooming-house in Bos-
ton, Massachusetts. Personally she quelled
all drunken disturbances and rough-
house outbreaks in her rough-and-rowdy
place with her huge sledge-hammer fists.

Maria Lee gained such a wide and nota-
ble reputation for knock-down-and-drag
out battling ability that Boston police and
detectives began to call on her for assist-
ance to help them subdue bloody out-
breaks of -hoodlums on the Boston
waterfront and murderous gun-blazing,
knife-wielding, fist-pounding riots be-
tween rival gangs of freight-handling

stevedores warring with one another for
the right to unload ships arriving in Bos-
ton from all quarters of the’ globe.
Maria Lee was soon “a name” in these
waterfront manhandling massacres. She

would hurl her three-hundred-pound °

muscular bulk into these violent free-for-
all clashes with blood-lust abandon and
bust every head that came within the
radius of her pile-driver fists.

The detectives and policemen often
would stand back and let Maria Lee settle
the arguments in her own primitive
African way. She never failed once to
handle any situation the Boston police
allocated to her. Maria Lee was a whole
riot squad in person, and thugs and gang-
sters took to cover when the female
Goliath swung into action.

In one vicious encounter, for example,
she knocked out a gang of hell-raising
sailors just in from the Orient who were
chockfull of raw gin and all set to murder
some Boston waterfront landlubber.
When the sailors woke up they were
lodged securely behind bars. Maria Lee
had beaten them all into unconsciousness
and lodged them there without any
assistance whatever from the police!

It soon became the custom along the
waterfront, whenever hell broke loose in
the district, for citizens to yell:

“Send for Black Maria! Send for Black
Maria!” ;

Later, when the first horse-drawn police
car was bought and placed in service in
the New England city, the police chief
gave it the name ‘Black Maria” in honor
of the herculean African female who had
been of such vast assistance to the De-
partment in quelling disturbances along
the Boston waterfront.

Maria Lee lived to a hearty old age,
and at her death was honored with a
sumptuous funeral’ attended by many
police officers who were indebted to
“Black ,Maria” for tendering them a
helping hand in scores of waterfront
outbreaks.—James Edward Hungerford

|
|
|

Killers | Have Known

[Continued from page 13]

reason was unable to go through with it.
After his arrest and conviction there was
some talk of insanity, but a lunacy com-
mission examined him and found him
sane.

When I accepted the wardenship of
Sing Sing in 1920, Chapin, a broken down
old man, was confined in the prison hos-
pital. I felt that 1 might be able to do
something to aid him, and one day an
opportunity presented itself. I explained
to Chapin that I had a job just suited for
him if he would pull himself together.

“What is it, Warden?” he asked.

“I am going to assign you to the editor-

ship of the Sing Sing Bulletin. Will you.

take the job?” '

His eyes lit up and when he spoke
enthusiasm was noticeable in his voice.
“You bet, Warden. You bet.”

Within a couple of weeks Chapin was
installed as editor in a little cubby
hole which served as the office of the
Bulletin.

Here was an intelligent man who had
made a terrible mistake in life, who had
known success and fame in his chosen
profession in the world outside the Big
Wall, throwing himself into a compar-
ably picayune enterprise with fervor and
enthusiasm. It was characteristic of

Charles Chapin that anything that inter-

ested him consumed his entire energy. So
it was with the Bulletin. As editor of
the prison paper he had found something
to do, a release from the hum-drum of
nothingness, a job that kept him from
brooding, that apt his mind alive and
active. He threw himself completely into
it.

He held the editoria? post inside Sing
Sing until we were forced to discontinue
the paper. But during his tenure as edi-
tor he made the Bulletin one of the finest
prison papers in the country.

There was only one thing that Chapin
did not like about the job, my checking
his editorials. As editor of the World he
had been the man behind the blue pencil
and he bitterly resented someone else
supervising his views. However, due to his
headstrong disposition and abandon in
saying exactly what he thought, it was
necessary at times to censor his stories.

When the Bulletin folded in 1922
Chapin created a new job for himself. At
that time the prison yard was a bare
stretch of sand and gravel pavement, de-
pressing as the century old cell block
fringing it. Why not transform that bleak
yard into an expanse of beauty? Chapin
sought my permission to carry out his
plan and I was happy to grant it.

Chapin, then sixty, went to work en-
thusiastically with the aid of about fifty
other inmates. Soon, in place of the long
expanse of cracked pavement and un-
healthy looking soil, the green of grass
and trees began to make an appearance.
Beautiful beds of flowers, heavy with al-
most every variety of bloom, formed the
center of the small boulevard. When

word of what Chapin did seeped through
the walls to the outside world, equipment
and seeds began to arrive at the prison.
Soil, fertilizer, plants, shrubs, and even
tropic birds, were forwarded by friends
and strangers.

Chapin made a habit of greeting me
each morning with a handful of flowers.
Then one morning I missed him. Investi-
gating, I learned that he was ill in his
cell. His condition was serious, and he
realized that. But he refused to go to the
hospital. i

“Warden,” he said, gathering all the
strength he had to look up at me, “thanks
for all you have done.” He choked slightly
and then added with a weary smile: “I
want you to keep this as a remembrance
of me and,” he hesitated, “my wife.” I
looked at the small trinket he placed in
my hand. It was a locket inside of which
were strands of his wife’s hair.

Chapin died shortly afterwards. I still
have his token today. -

In my opinion, Chapin’s case, as well
as a great number of others, broadly deny
the value of capital punishment. Here
are a group of people who have com-
mitted the gravest of all crimes, murder.
But is society better off in destroying these
offenders? By imprisoning them we pun-

ish them and at the same time give them
ei pray to repay society, if only par-
tially, for its loss. Even some of the most
ruthless killers might have been re-
molded had we given them an oppor-
tunity.

In this connection I might cite the case
of “Two-Gun” Francis Crowley who
killed a policeman and later shot it out
with more than fifty officers before he
was apprehended.

. Crowley arrived at Sing Sing in a burst
of : yore He had been publicized far and
wide as a daring murderer and a criminal
of the most vicious type. Impressionable,
emotionally immature, he was deter-
mined to live up to the reputation built
for him by a gullible public:

A reporter had once stated that
Crowley, when arrested for the first time,
had two guns in his possession. Thus this
youngster became the notorious “two-
gun” bandit. Owing to his spectacular
though stupidly executed crimes he had
been well press-agented as one who pos-
sessed a pompous air of bravado and a
daredevil nature.

Two-Gun Crowley was hailed in the
death house as a tough boy who could
keep prison guards on their toes and

TRUE POLICE CASES

“You have a customer waiting.”

- gle”

127

Hertorireod Seeiat O

ere Christian Brown—Wanted for Murder

“A CORRECT COPY OF THE By THOMAS M. McDADE°

a
te : : ‘ en y

I. was Thomas De Quincey who observed that “Many a man has

dated his ruin from some murder or other that perhaps he thought

little of at the time’! If Christian Brown is worthy at all of our atten-

« tion, it is perhaps because of his connection with several murders he
| thought little of at the time.

There are certain crafts or professions which have always received

special attention in studies of our early history. Printing and publish-

ing are among them, mainly because the products of these crafts report

2. Trial & Conviction of . the mores, history, taste, and culture of the times. It was while making
: : RICHARD JOHNSON, j . one such study that my eye first fell on a pamphlet bearing the rather

FoR rug fulsome title:

. ta >
Sig age MURDER “e A CORRECT COPY OF THE Trial & Conviction of RICHARD

Of Ursula’ Newman. . : JOHNSON, ror tae MURDER OF Ursula Newman, On
On the 2th Nov. 1828, by shooting her ik 3 the 20th Nov. 1828, by shooting her with a pistol loaded
pistol loaded with buck shot or slugs,

with buck shot or slugs, NINE OF WHICH ENTERED HER BODY:

NINES OF QPSiCH ENTERED HER BODY: TOGETHER WITH THE Charge of the Court, AND THE CONFES-

* =. ae 7am SION OF THE PRISONER Of his entention to have added Sui-

Charge of the Cou rt, 7. cide to the Horrid and Appalling Murder for which he is to

. CONFESSION Gn iritet Sictensine suffer an ignomenious death, and his letter to a friend in

* OF his eatentian to have added Saicide to the Herat ey Philadelphia previous to his Conviction. [NEW-YORK: PRINT-

_— —e for which he is to suffer an ignomeoious | i ED AND SOLD WHOLESALE AND RETAIL, BY CHRISTIAN BROWN,
"hia prenjettt 0,32 friend in Philadel NO. 211 WATER-STREET, N. YORK. |

abe phia previous to his Conviction.
— —————C00-900 9000060 :
PRINTED anp goub. Korner . The title page with its mixture of different type faces was further
ND RETAIL, BY ‘ 7 . - . . RS:
CHRISTIAN BROW. enlivened by a marvelous illustration of Johnson in the act of commit- _ 5 |

No. 21 WATER-STREET.N. YORK.

* The author is a member of the New York bar and the compiler of The Annals of
Murder, a bibliography of American murder cases which received an Edgar Allan Poe
. award of the Mystery Writers of America in 1962.
aad nial ements canna i ee - ae nme 1[De Quincey, Thomas], “Second Paper on Murder Considered as One of the Fine

Arts,” Blackwood’s Edinburgh Magazine, XLVI (November 1839), 663. This was a > 4
THE NEW-YORK - : : iP Seiad sr ial eae J
YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY. supplement to the first article which appeared in February 1827. i

NEW YORK TIDBITS

The following three entries must be deleted. They are probably

unconfirmed entries anyway: y

John Connor, 1731, New York County, Grand Larceny. per Minutes of Governor's
Council entry dated 1-4-31. (Pardon issued). Was to hang on 12-22-30.

Negro Sawney, (Mathew Ernest's negro boy), 1762, New York County, burglary. per
ibid. entry dated 8-25-62. (commuted to sale in the West Indies).

Elizabeth Clark, 1767-1768, New York County, Grand Larceny. per ibid. entry dated
3-22-68. (commuted to banishment). Originally condemned autumn '67. Pregnancy
respite. Death Warrant issued 3-21-68 but recinded next day.

The following sounds like an Indian tribal execution instead of a simple
Indian killing:

'On the 27th tnstant there was a counctl held near
this place by the Cayuga Indians when they passed
sentence of death on an Onetda Indtan who was im-
mediately executed on the spot with a kntfe.'

Source: THE HUDSON WEEKLY GAZETTE, 5-10-1787 page 3 containing an excerpt
from a personal letter dated 3-29-87 from 'Canadasago in the Genesee
County’ to a correspondent in Albany.

Note: Canadasago is apparently an archaic name as I find it not on present-
day maps. But "Genesee Country" definitely refers to the Finger Lakes
region of New York State.

'The black girl whom we lately menttoned as having
been convicted of murder was executed on Friday
last agreeably to sentence.'

Source: THE KINGSTON PLEBEIAN issue of 7-13-1803 (3:2)

Note: Still can't nail down her name or a contemporary account of her
crime. The previous issue to which the above refers is lost. Court
record also lost.

Fage One

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

May 10th 1988

Mr. Watt Espy

Capital Punishment Research Project
POs Bon: 277

Headland, AL 36345

Dear Watt:

"Looking down the long vista of a century and a half, we see a numerous
throng faring to their death from the dungeons of Fort James to what was
unquestionably one of the chtefs of American Aceldamas: the stte of the
New York gallows. Of this throng there exists no census; we can make but
a rough estimate of the number of those who suffered a vtolent death at
thts Golgotha: a moderate computation would place the number at about 250.
It ts composed of all sorts and conditions of folk, of peers and populace,
of prtests and coiners, of murderers and of children who have but stolen
a few pence, of bulltes, brigands, brutes and butchers by the bundle ---
sometimes of men who tn thetr person unite the two characters --- of men
well versed and erudite and of men knowtng no language but the jargon of
thteves.

They fare along thetr Via Dolorosa in many ways. Some bound and layed
on their back are dragged by horses over the rough and mtry way; a few
are carrted, kicking and screaming; some walk tn stlence between guards;
the most are borne in carts whtch carry also due provtston of coffins to
presently receive thetr bodies. But all make a stop at the 'Hand o' Glory
Tavern' where they are presented with a great bowl of ale, thereof to
drink at thetr pleasure, as to be thetr last refreshment in this life.

It ts for the most part a nameless, anonymous crowd. For decades only
a single figure emerges here and there to make the transttton from oblivion
to htstory book. They go, stngly, in pairs and sometimes in batches,
weeping girls and laughing boys, women with chtldren at the breast,
wretched slaves and snarling pirates, htghwaymen dressed in gay apparels;
men and women drunk, cursing, praying. Some are to be burnt altves; others
tortured to deaths; most stmply hanged; others first half-hanged are to
be cut down while still conscious and savagely disembowelled; yet others
are to be swung aloft in chatns and left hanging ttll famine and weather
extingutsh the spark of life. The road is always thronged with spectators
flocking tn answer to the invitation of the State to wttness such scenes;
to have thetr hearts cleansed through pity and CEPPOP......ccceeceveccecs .

The words are those of Alfred Marks. But they accurately capture the
scope of our impending task. In short, what you have sent me regarding
New York appears to be merely the proverbial 'tip of the iceberg’. We have
certainly got our work cut out for us here!

Where to begin? The New York Court system for this era is a judicial
quagmire, fiendishly difficult to follow. For the sake of easy reference,
I will begin by treating the 'Dutch Period’ (1629-1664) as a distinct
entity. The Dutch had no established courts of law in the English manner.
Crimes of a serious nature were adjudicated by the Governor's Privy Council.
These Council records have survived in an abridged form. i.e. origionals
destroyed by fire in 1911 but a so-called 'Calendar' of them was compiled

in 1865 and published under the following title:

"Calendar of Historical Manuscripts in the Office of
the Secretary of State, Albany, New York" [Dutch
Manuscripts]. Edited by E.B. O'Callaghan. Weed, Parsons
& Co. Printers. Albany NY 1865."

| One of the Chapters in the above book is entitled : "Council Minutes
and Court Proceedings" and has yielded the following information:

is August 5th 1639. Gregory Petersen, a soldier, executed by
: ] firing squad at Fort Amsterdam for mutiny.

| 2% January 24th 1640: Manuel Garrit alias 'the giant', a negro

| slave, slated to die for murdering another black man. He was

| one of six men involved in the crime. But since six executions

| were deemed "too great a loss of property", the six were poen toa

| forced to draw straws to see who should hang. Manuel Gerrit ,
was the unlucky one. However at the place of execution he b
was reprieved after the rope broke twice and the populace
threatened to riot if he was strung up a third time.

November 25th 1644. William Woodheyt, 'a Yorkshire soldier',
executed by firing squad at Fort Amsterdam for desertion and
theft. (A strange case of an Englishman serving the Dutch). ~

nT Pie veo?

June 25th 1646. Jan Creoli, a negro. Sodomy second offence.
"This crime being condemned of God as an abomination, the

prisoner is sentenced to be conveyed to the place of public

execution and there choked to death and then burnt to ashes.

\/ Manuel Congo, a lad ten years old, upon whom the above abom-

inable crime was committed, to be carried to the place where

Creoli is to be executed, tied to a stake and faggots piled
around him, for justice sake, and to be flogged. Sentence

Executed."

faa February 2lst 1647. Hans Reiger & Dirck Sicken, soldiers,

. for insolent behavior towards citizens on the Heeren Straat
in New Amsterdam and for striking their superior officers,

to be conveyed to the place of execution and there shot
according to law martial. No Pardon."

6. May 14th 1655. Hans Breyer, a soldier, for burglary, to be
stripped of his arms in the presence of the soldiers in Fort
/ Amsterdam, then to be conveyed to the place of public exec-
VA ution and there hung by the neck until he is dead.
May 15th 1655. Commutation of Hans Breyer's sentence to
perpetual banishment at the urgent solicitation of the public
at the place of execution.

yas bay June 17th 1660. Plea of Guilty entered against Jan Quisthout
van der Linde, a soldier accused of sodomy. A native of Brussels.
To be taken to the place of execution and there stripped of
his arms, his sword to be broken at his feet and he then to be
tied in a sack and cast into the river and drowned until dead.
Hendrick Harmensen, the boy on whom Quisthout committed by
force the above crime, to be privately whipped and sent to some
other place by the first opportunity."

8. 1-3-1664:

2-4-1664:

2-5-1664:

2-8-1664:
2-9-1664:

2-9-1664:

This is the entire co
ment. There were only si
couple of close calls. I
the death penalty to beg
extremely reluctant to i
ers were commonly let of
banishment.

Fage Three

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

Order for a search after a negro wench belonging

to Martin Creiger, suspected of having set fire

to his house.

Examination of Lysbet Antonissen, a negro woman,
native of New Netherland, for setting fire to
Martin Creiger's house.

Complaint against Lysbet Antonissen, a negro wench,
for having set fire to Capt. Creiger's house.
Confession of guilt by sd. negress.

Sentence of Lysbet Antonissen that she be conveyed
to the place of public execution, there chained to
a stake, strangled and then burnt.

Order revoking the above sentence and directing that
the woman be conveyed to the place of execution as
above, that all the preparations for strangling and
burning her be made, and then that she be pardoned
and returned to her master.

ntent of the Dutch records regarding Capital Punish-

x actual executions under their entire tenure and a

t is to be remembered that they were finicky about

in with. They did not believe in witchcraft and were

mpose death for crimes against property. Even murder-
f with physical mutilation, public humiliation and

When the English took over in 1665 things changed radically. A code of laws

called the "Duke's Laws"
the following crimes:

Blasph
Wilful
Killin
Murder
Bestia
Sodomy
Kidnap
Perjur
Treaso
Rebell
Smitin

Arson

This was only a begi
English occupation of N

was introduced and the penalty was death for all of

emy

Murder

g an unarmed person
by guile

lity

ping & man stealing
y in Capital Cases
n

ion

g of Parents

at discretion of the Court

nning. One of the most striking features of the
ew Amsterdam & New Netherland: now New York and

the Province thereof, was a progressive and steadily increasing ferocity

ENGLISH MANUSCRIPTS:;
ER a sr00Lt AND LOVELAGE Bk re
Vie. 1669. “aabie 7 PAGE, poe
oe ', Instructions for holding a special court of oyer and terminer for...
pata ‘eS fie the trial of the above parties, ......seeeeeeeseeeeeeeeesees 58, 59 Aug.
Aprile 4, Trial of George Canada and Alexander Frizzell, as also of Samuel -.
WR tee. Bub yy oo cc cece tcc sy0ccsad cpwecees ¥e5e0e ee seesenee ¥00 9 et 60 Aug.
20 Sentence of the court in the above cases, .......0-s+0eeeeeeeeees 61 heed
eo April 6. Examination of Samuel Bugby, «........eseseee sere ceeeceeeeee 62 .
- add ee 3. Inquest on the death of the child of Angle Hendricks, found drowned ~ * Aug.
i ae: AM AWE. ee eee eee eect ence teen ce cect eee eet ets eeen sees 68
| os une wp “Proclamation for the arrest of Angle Hendricks, escaped from prison, 64 Aug.
J uly 2, Instructions and directions to be observed at the special court of
oyer and terminer for the trial of Angle Hendricks on a charge
of child murder, sede tecgsecrsececscsesteceneccseensgsseres G5
_ Names of persons composing the above court, and form of oathto Aug.
; peas witnesses, sec cccececcccscevcaresevecscenscvecsccocessccccs COTE
eo: Votes for president of the above tn aii ate wedi sine tss " OL Aug.
Sentence of the court against Angle ze + pene opaakaaomeaty 68 Oct
Names of the jurors on the above trial, ........ SE cca es, OOM
Warrant for the execution of Angle Hendricks, directed to the Oct.
if sheriff of New York,.......0c.sseeceeeseceseececeereseres 70
Ay: Sheriff Manning’s bill of expenses for the arrest and execution of
_. Angle Hendricks,..........sssscececcecesecssecsececesevees U1.
are | dPiGacaitinent against-David du Four for abetting in the escape of the a
above Angle Hendricks from jail, ...........00.ee.e000--.2 72, 73°
Sentence of Lucas, the negro, and David du Four, for harboring ©” March
-- Angle Hendricks, ..........sseeeeeseereeeceeeetectcececees 74
a Petition. David du Four for a mitigation of his sentence,.....+... 75. re at
4 Letter. Lancelot Talbot to Samuel Wilson, of London, advising Rael tsitr, 2 Be cond
seem him of a shipment of sugar, ......+eseeeecersecreesecceeaees 76 oe ae
¥, 15. Bond. John Berry, of the island of Barbadoes,and Samuel Edsall, — 1669.
' -*-of Berghen, N. J., to Matthias Nicolls, of New York, for £100 Sept.
Ss payable in tobacco, .....s.scesscseeecssssecencecesucssenecs 77 |
14, Complaint. William Paterson, mercht., a capt. John Baker,
deputy governor of Albany, for an assault, paggdvasivawcceas’ 78 : 1670.
_ Answer of capt. Baker to the above charge, ......-....e+e0+.-.- 79 Mareh §
31. *Complaint. Sheriff Swart, of Albany, against capt. Baker for bie:
THOt, 2. cece recs cccccccvcsscssceccccsccssessesscscssesess BO. — .
f ® * Minute of the application made by the magistrates of Albany to ae April
| 4 __ capt. Baker for the release of Mr. Paterson from confinement in
. pamaonrorttve Leet: ad his yefasal, ... 6 <sccsses cccespadedsetboederied sees. 80 May
Aug. 1. * Order of the court at Albany, in the case of Paterson vs. Baker, “
i for assAult, co cciccccccaccercscnccvccccccccsecseseccescesccs 81 | ae June
Aug. 1. * Deposition of Michael Calier, that capt. Baker burst open Jochem : J
aii Baker’s door and abused his Wife,......-.-eeeeeceseseeececeee 82 uly 1

Calender of Historical Mant scripts in the Office of the Sec. of
State, Albany NY. Edited by £.8.0'Callaghan, Part IZ

English manuscripts. Weed, Parsons 8 Co. Printers. - Albany /866. |

|
HT Aug. 1. *Summons to capt. Baker, to release Mr. Paterson from custody,. 88 !

2 domes manatee

26 eg RK CITY COURT RECORDS, 1664-176

Ward, is indicted for keeping 2 sets of weights, one heavier than is

correct and the other lighter. Thomas Pope and Edward Taylor are sworn
to give evidence against him to the Grand Jury. Basford pleads not guilty.
6 Feb. 1710/11. He is tried, found guilty and fined 20s. 1 May 1711.

Henry Cordus, Vincent Delamontagne and Samuel Kip are discharged from
their recognizances for good behaviour, as there is no prosecution.
1 May 1711.

Arriantie Delamontagne and her bail are discharged, as there is no
prosecution. 1 May 1711.

William Glencross, Thomas Davenport, Stephen Cortlandt and William Pro-
voost are fined for not appearing on the Grand Jury. 1 May 1711.

Peter Watson, bound over on suspicion of coining false dollars, is dis-
charged, since there is no prosecution. 7 Aug. 1711.

Vincent, Thomas and Ariantie Delamontagne are discharged from their re-
cognizances. 7 Aug. 1711.

Regina vs. John Wood. As there is no prosecution, Wood is discharged.
7 Aug. 1711.

John Moore and John Riggs are indicted for the murder of John Griffith.
7 Aug. 1711.

Elizabeth Ranger, spinster, at her house in the West Ward entertained a
Negro named Diego (slave of Hester Blom, widow), sold and traded with
him, gave him liquor and took from him 16s.6d\ of the money of Hester
Blom. Elizabeth says that Diego assured her he was a free Negro, but she
pleads guilty and is fined 20s. 6 Nov. 1711.

Thomas Roberts, Richard Harris and Stephen Cortlandt are fined for not
attending on the Grand Jury. 6 Nov. 1711.

There appeared in court Moses Levy, Jacob Franks, Moses Hart, Solomon
Etiel Levy and Abraham De Lucena. 5 Feb. 1711/12.

Moses Levy, merchant, is indicted for having assaulted Abraham De
Lucena at the Dock Ward. He pleads guilty and is fined 6s. 5 Feb. 1711/12.

The Grand Jurors present the insufficiency of the gaol and the highways.
3 Feb. 1711/12.

Jacob Franks appearsdin court. 5 Feb. 1711/12.

Moses Hart and Solomon Etiel Levy appear in court and, when the Grand
Jurors return their indictments ignoramus, they are discharged.
9 Feb. 1711/12.

Abraham De Lucena, merchant, is indicted for having assaulted Solomon
Etiel Levy, merchant, at the Dock Ward on last 10 Nov. Abraham pleads
not guilty. He is tried by a jury (of the Dock Ward) consisting of John

Harris, Beverley Latham, William Barkley, Jacob Swan, Thomas Evans,
Peter Vantilborough, Gerrett Onclebag, Herman Schermerhorn, John Jones,
Francis Riasse [?], David Cosart and Shourt Olfort. He is found guilty

and fined £6. 5 Feb. 1711/12.

On the night of April 11-12 a number of slaves set fire to a building and
killed whites who came up to extinguish the flames. Adrian Hoghlandt,

_Adrian Beeckman and Augustus Grassett and others were slain. Slaves
found not guilty were Rodriguo (slave of Robert Darkins), Ben (slave of

we ae
NEW YORK CITY COURT RECORDS, 1684-1 27

the Widow Schuyler), Quashi (slave of Joseph Latham), Jurorica (slave of
Rodriguo Pacheco), Lilly (slave of John Crooke), Tom (slave of Jacob
Regnier), George (slave of Jacob Regnier), Dick (slave of Tobias Stouten-
burgh), Amba (slave of Adolph Philips), and Mars (slave of Jacob Regnier).
The following were put to death: Clause (slave of Allane Jarratt), who
was broken on the wheel and quartered, Robin (slave of Adrian Hoghlandt),
who was hung in chains until dead, and Quaco (slave pf Abraham Roose-
velt), who was burnt with fire until dead, as was Tom (slave of Nicholas
Rosevelt). Furnis (slave of Ruth Sheppard) is sentenced to be burnt with
fire until dead. . The following were hanged: Hosea+Indian slave of Mary
Wenham), John (Mulatto Slave of Peter Vantilborough) , ros ndian
slave of Isaac Gouverneur) » Tom (slave of John Dehonsay Kigh o (slave of
Isaac i Sa pA esar (slaye of the Widow Norwood), Mingo (slave of
John Barberie), Quali and Quacke (slaves of — Dam), TobY (slave
of} John Cure), CaesaY (slave of Peter Morin), Tittus (slave of Richard Ray),
m (slave of David Lyell), Coffee (slave of William Walton), Qudco (slave
of Walter Thong), and Sa¥ah (slave of Stophel Pels). 11-15 Apr. 1712.

Nicholas Van Gelder is fined 10s. » for refusal to attend court as a con-
Stable. 22 Apr. 1712.

Aruba (slave of Henry Courteen), Bonny (slave of Gilbert Ash), Hannibal
(slave of Andrew Stugkey), Tom (slave of Helena Dekey) and John Harris
were acquitted. Abigail (slave of Gysbert Vanninburgh) and Tom (slave of

Rip Van Dam), both convicted of the murder of Henry Brasier, were hang-
ed. Peter the Porter and Peter the Doctor were not tried. 14 Apr. 1712.

John Reade, bound to the peace at the request of Jacob Regnier, Esq., is
discharged from his recognizance at Regnier's request. 5 Aug. 1712.

William Aertse, bound to the peace at request of one Bresteade, is in court
in recognizance. 5 Aug. 1712.

Peter the Doctor, indicted for the murder of Joris Mareschalk, is committed.
6 Aug. 1712.

Christopher Rousby, gentleman, indicted for an assault on John Buckhoven,
pleads not guilty and gives bail of £10. 4 Nov. 1712. He is tried by a jury
consisting of Daniel Ebetts, Hendrick Brevoort, Noah Cazalet, Anthony
Ham, Jacob Swan, Augustus Jay, Francis Vincent, Johannes Vanbrugh,
Lewis Carree, John Ellison, Nathaniel Lynus [?], and Nicholas Tienhoven.
He is found guilty and fined 3s.4d. 3 Feb. 1712/13.

John Webb, victualler, of the East Ward, is indicted for keeping a dis-
orderly alehouse, where there is tippling, swearing and playing of unlawful
fames. He pleads not guilty. 5 Aug. 1712. He is tried by a jury consist-
ing of Stephen Cortlandt, Patrick Macknight, Abraham Keteltas, William
Provoost, Charles Cromeline, Johannes Tiebout, Dirck Egbertse, Leonard
De Klyne, Andries Maerschalck, Henry Courteen, Teunis Quick and
Johannes Provoost. He is found guilty and fined 3s.4d. 3 Feb. 1712/13.
After his indictment he had been ordered to cease keeping a tippling house
and selling strong liquors. 6 Aug. 1712. Later, however, the court de-
sires that the mayor grant a license to Webb to retail strong liquors, but he
is to have a certificate from his principal neighbors and to give two securi-
ties. 6 May 1713.

John Webb and his wife Anne are indicted for entertaining and trading

with Negro slaves. They plead not guilty. Prosecution was dropped. 6
Aug. 1712.

CASE NO. 8 The Calendar of Historical Manuscripts contains petitions for

pardon from Hannah Travis and William Smith dated March 17th
1720 and March 19th 1720 respectively. Both petitions went unanswered. Sounds
ominous. I would hazzard a recreation of these characters: Smith was from
Charlestown Mass. and Travis bore the alias 'Dancing Hannah'. It is not un-
reasonable to presume that Smith was a seaman and that Travis was a denizen of
a low waterfront dive. Their crime was an unspecified felony. In other words,
the 'John' and the trollop probably put their heads together and pulled off a
heist. They probably paid for it with their lives.

CASE NO. 2 In searching the records of the Court of General Sessions, I
came upon the following reference to a completely hitherto un-
unknown TRIPLE execution which took place at New York in April of 1698.

"May 8rd 1698. Account of the High Sherrif for
hanging three murderers, viz. Samuel Bowen, John
Suterbury & Thomas Verwin, accounts to 59-16-00
for the hangman, for negroes, for car-men and
carting, for tronwork and hanging dead bodies."

This is enough to convince me of a brand new triple confirmation. The case
would be totally unknown were it not for this entry in the Records of the Court
of General Sessions. There is no other known reference to the case. No other de-
tails are preserved as to details of the crime, etc. They were certainly condemned
by a Special Court of Oyer & Terminer, (the records of which have completely per-
ished), because there is no mention of the case in the Records of the Supreme Court
of Judicature which are intact for this period. Note the valuable details contained
in this citation: the names of the three men; (obviously white men), the fact that
the sherrif employed a hangman and did not perform the execution himself, the fact
that negroes were employed to do the dirty-work and that the prisoners were prev-
iously carted through the streets and that their hanged corpses were later exposed
in irons.

CASE NO. 3 I previously sent a notation from the Records of the Supreme Court
of Judicature concerning a negro slave woman named 'Mary' who was

sentenced to death at New York on Sept.6th 1706 for grand-larceny and slated to

die on Sept.13th. There was no confirmation. However I can now provide confirmation

by the following entry in the Records of the Court of GEneral Sessions:

"November 6th 1706. Sherrif's account of 20-29-093
for carpenters, natls, locks, hinges, screws, smith's
work for mending the gaols of the city and county,
for making a gallows, halter, executtoner & sherrif's
fees for executton of a negro woman and for emptying
the prtson tubs."

This "negro woman" cannot be anyone other than 'Mary'. Notice the nonchalant
manner in which he accounts her death right in the middle of the list of his
other expenses!

CASE NO. 4 The Calendar of Historical Manuscripts in the Secretary of State's
Office yields the following notation:

"May 1st 1711. Petition of William Barker for pardon,
he having been convicted of stealing a horse, for whtch
he ts under sentence of death."

A similarity in names makes it tempting to think that this "William Barker"
is in fact the "William Barber" who was slated to hang at New York on November
14th 1711 for an unspecified felony. But a look at the dates precludes our
falling into such a trap. William Barker and William Barber were probably two
different people although it is not impossible that the same man was earlier
condemned for horse-theft, pardoned and then recondemned the following autumn.
Methinks two different people. I can't quite satisfy myself by stretching the

ene

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

known facts to such a degree. In the absence of the earlier mentioned BARKER
from the Minutes Book of the Supreme Court of Judicature, it would seem that
he hailed from an upstate location; probably Albany. Or he may have been tried
by a Special Commission. At any rate, I would rank William Barker as an uncon-
firmed possibility for horse-theft. There is no record of whether his petition
was granted or denied. Odds are that we have two different people here. The
dates speak for themselves.

CASE NO. 5 From the same 'Calendar of Historical Manuscripts' I glean the
following entry to a hitherto unknown case:

"January 28th 1712. Letter from Gov. Hunter to Capt.
Matthews at Albany. Richard Evans and James Scholecraft,
deserters, to be pardoned. Robert Holding, a deserter,
to be shot to death."

This is a reference to a military case at the Albany garrison in 1712. It
is a reply from the Governor of New York to a petition for pardon. It would
seem likely that Robert Holding was indeed shot since his application was
denied. However I would leave it unconfirmed at least for the time being.

CASE NO. 6 It will be recalled that the records of the Supreme Court of

Judicature for 1715-1722 are lost. However we did manage to
identify cases from that period from other sources. From the Calendar of Hist-
orical Manuscripts, cited above, yet another possibility, (indeed probability),
has surfaced from the shadows of obscurity:

"August 28th 1719. Petttion of Harmanus Burgher,
blacksmith, being old and poor, prays that the
sentence of death passed on his negro may be
commuted, he betng his only means of support."

The petition was denied on the grounds of a recently enacted law which re-
quired the owners of executed slaves _ to be compensated out of the public treasury.
Harmanus Burgher was a resident of an unspecified location. Hence it is so far
unknown where in New York Colony to assign this case. It may or may not show up
in one of the upstate counties when I get to them. At any rate, if it was in
fact New York County, the lack of records for the year 1719 will render such im-
possible to ascertain.

CASE NO. 7 The previously uncertain execution of Thomas Codman is now con-
firmed by the following entry in the Records of the Court of
General Sessions:

"November 2nd 1720. In the house of Thomas Codman,
vtetualler, lately executed for felonies, were found
43 og. of silver. The Court orders the same to be
gtven to Hannah Anderson, (wife of John Anderson, a
martner now at sea), stnce she ts very stick and weak
and an object of chartty."

BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES
In a second group of murders on the frontier, Indians were in-
volved. Sometimes they were punished without benefit of court. At
Wales, near Buffalo, there stood what was known as the tomahawk
tree. According to legend, an Indian showed what he alleged to be
the skin of a white child, declaring that he was going to have a
tobacco-pouch made of it. This may have been a drunken boast, but
a certain Truman Allen followed him, killed him, and stuck a toma-
hawk in a tree im terrorem.

Perhaps the most puzzling of these Indian cases was that of Tomniy
Jimmy, who in 1821, upon instructions from the Senecas, executed
an alleged witch named Kauquatau. Although there was some doubt
as to whether the Indian could be tried by any tribunal except one
of his own nation, he was brought before a white man’s Court of
Oyer and Terminer and defended by the great orator Red Jacket.
When asked by the prosecutor whether he believed in God, Red
Jacket said, “More truly than one who could ask me such a question”.
The high point of the trial was reached when Red Jacket reminded
the whites of such incidents as the Salem trials for witchcraft: “Do
you denounce us as fools and bigots because we still believe what
you yourselves believed two centuries ago? Your black-coats thundered
this doctrine from the pulpit, your judges pronounced it from the
bench, and' sanctioned it with formalities of law; and would you now
punish our unfortunate brother for adhering to the faith of his
fathers and of yours?” The orator’s question, and the doubts regard-
ing jurisdiction, confounded the wisest. The case was removed by a
writ of certiori to the State Supreme Court, where, by consent of the
Attorney General, without judgment being rendered the prisoner
was discharged. ey : :

You will ask whether, after the Revolution, any Indians dedicated
themselves in racial hatred to the destruction of white men, as such
whites as Quick, Murphy, and Foster did to the murder of Indians.
A long poem preserved in broadside at the Seneca Falls Museum tells
of an Indian who had the desire, if not the opportunity, for such
wholesale slaughter. The title is: Poetry on the Death of/ EZEKIEL
CRANE/ and Execution of/ INDIAN JOHN/ Composed by Jason
Smith/ And sung by him at a concourse of young persons convened
at a house near the/ spot where the tragic scene was enacted: June,

= MURDERERS eee Oe ts : | | 437
oe 1818. If the young persons were kept in convention through the sing-

ing of the entire poem, they heard some 280 lines; I can spare the
reader..3 ae

The scene of the case of the berserk Indian is Junius, later Tyre,
N. Y. On December 12, 1803, Indian John and a white man named
George Phadoc were hunting together when, as the Indian is made

to say:

“A great big bunch came in my breast,
And rising, got into my head—
Then me would kill all white men dead.”

Putting the idea into action, he fired at Phadoc just as the white came
to the door with venison. The ball, shot apparently haphazard through
the door, hit the venison and grazed Phadoc’s coat near his armpit.
Seizing his rifle, Phadoc escaped up Black Brook to the home of
the poet’s father. We are not told that any measures were taken
against John, but evidently his murderous ambition was not satisfied.
In 1818, Ezekiel Ctane and a friend were viewing some land in that
neighborhood. Coming to John’s cabin-door, Ezekiel was struck in tc
shoulder by a ball fired in the same savage and haphazard fashion.
With the aid of his friend the wounded man escaped but died five
days later, leaving a widow and five children. After the funeral, a
meeting of white men was joined by three Senecas who evidently
wished to redeem the good name of their nation. The party sur-
rounded John’s cabin. Here let the Muse have sway:

“More shoot, more shoot,” is all his cry—
The war whoop raise, the war song sing,
Which made those echoing valleys ring:
The assailants brave, though to their heart
The life blood thrills with sudden start.

His tawny brethren loudly sung,

In Indian style and Indian tongue—
That he might think no white men near,
And thus divert him of his fear. :
‘Up to the cabin door they walked,

And to the assassin friendly talked:

A league with you we make, say they— .

ee ren. 20 .

442
BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

and lasted for what was then regarded as a long session of twelve
days. Though the hanging on September 10th was a “private” one
to which only fifty carefully selected spectators were admitted, for
twenty-four hours before the execution crowds flocked from ‘afat
until two or three thousand were jammed into the interesting
proximity of the jail. At 3:40 P. M. the murderer-bridegroom
mounted the scaffold to join the fifty fortunates in singing Rock of
Ages; thereafter his power to entertain was limited A oni teiion
published five days after the execution, and to a printed broadside:
ballad in twenty-four stanzas, probably first sold before Green was
hanged.

The following version was handed down from a member of the
sleighride party who remembered the “other girl” as Priscilla
nya vonaans eae rodtrey, and reported that she said:

y Mary? I would have married you in the end.”

Come listen to my tragedy, young people young and old;

I'll tell to you a story that will make your blood run cold,
Concerning a young lady, Miss Wyatt was her name,

Who was murdered by her husband, and he hung for the same.

This lady she was beautiful, not of a high degree.

Young Henry Green was wealthy, as you shall plainly see.
He said, “My dearest Mary, if you will be my wife,

I'll guard you at my peril throughout this gloomy life”.

She said, “My dearest Henry, I fear that ne’er can be:
It’s you have rich relations, I’m not as rich as thee;

And when your parents came to know, they would spurn me from their
door
?

1e ad aa , °
They’d rather you would wed someone had wealth laid up in store.”

He said, “My dearest Mary, why thus torment me so?
For if you longer me deny, I vow I'll take my life,
For I no longer wish to live unless you are my wife.”

Believing all he said was true, she thus became his wife.
Oh little did she think, poor girl, or e’er did she expect
He’d take away the life of one he’d just sworn to protect!

rcicercedit’ Rada tt iabes sah stdla Lelie Ahan Ebe ak, pieeinadelae tans

.
:
;
:
=
3
:
z
:
'

MURDERERS | ; 443

They had been married scarce a week when she was taken ill,
Or was it e’er expected he meant his wife to kill.

Great doctors they were sent for, and none of them could say;
Soon it was proclaimed by them she must go to her grave.

Her brother, hearing of the same, straight unto her did go,

Saying, “Sister dear, you’re dying; the doctors tell me so”;

Saying, “Sister dear, you’re dying, your life is at an end.

Say, have you not been murdered by the one you think your friend?”—

“It’s as I’m on my bed of death and know that I must die,
I’m going to my Maker, the truth shall not deny.

I know that Henry poisoned me, but, brother, for him send,
For I do love him now as well,as when he was my friend.”

When Henry got the tidings, he went his wife to see.

She said, “My dearest Henry, have I e’er deceived thee?”

Three times she said, “Dear Henry!” then sank into death’s swoon.
He gazed on in indifference, and in silence left the room.

An inquest on her body held according to the law,

And soon it was proclaimed by them that arsenic was the cause.
Green was apprehended, lodged down in Troy jail,

There to await his trial—the courts could not give bail.

On the day of his trial, he was brought on the stand

To answer for the blackest crime committed on our land.
Judge Parker read the sentence, He ’peared to me unmoved;
He said he was not guilty, although it had been proved.

He said he was not guilty, and he did her friends defy;
He pled that he was innocent, although condemned to die.

Green’s stupid crime recalls a more recent mountain-murder which
the genius of Theodore Dreiser has celebrated. His An American
Tragedy, you recall, is based upon fhe killing at Big Moose in the.
Adirondacks of Grace Brown by Chester Gillette, a dazed young

‘Yorker who decided too late that he wished to marry another girl.

The following ballad about the case is a version sung at Gloversville

438 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

All white men we will quickly slay.
Deceive him thus, and thus beguile,
*Till quite deluded by their wile.

By chance or fraud secure his arms—

Then to the white men gave the alarm;
Just at the word they all rushed in—

A furious fray doth now begin—

Most furious grew, when brought to see

He was betrayed by treachery.

Just like a demon incarnate,

Destruction, death, and sudden fate;

They seize and bear him to the ground,
And fast with thongs his hands were bound.

Now well secured, the Indian[s] said;
“You ugly man, you must be dead.

You much bad Indian, we do hear—
You ran away when you came here.
Much long ago you kill your squaw—
Your hand be like a panther’s claw:
Nay, badder still are you than they—
They only catch and kill their prey;
But you kill Indian, white men too—
We glad the white men have got you.”

The murderer was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged
and his body dissected. Thousands saw his death-cart, heard his death-
song. The poem ends with an attempt at Indian folklore, with a
modest Author’s Note to the effect that he is pecnbing at the close
“the Indian’s idea of the place where bad Indians go”:

His death song rings with cheerfu! glee—
“Me scare away Chepi,”* said he.

_ They reach, at length, the fatal spot;
With busy hands they knit the knot.
The cart moves on—from thence he’s hurled,
And launched into the unknown world.
Nor parting screams, nor fish, nor bird,

* [spirits]

MURDERERS ~ 439

Nor songs, nor mirthful shouts are heard,
Nor deer, nor bear, nor foxes roam—

A dreary waste his final home.

There he must lead another life,

Without a battle axe or knife.

Whatever the merit of this poem, it fails to establish any clearer
reason for the murders than a blind hatred for whites and a savagery
which did not spare members of John’s own race. There is more of
dignity in the murders committed by the Antone family in Broome
and Madison Counties; these killings illustrate a primitive feeling for
justice not unlike the Highland code of vengeance. Abram Antone
was the son of a dignified and respected chief who presided over a
small reservation in Broome County. The land of this little colony
did not escape the cupidity of certain white men, one of whom in-
duced young Abram to sign a paper, supposedly a promise to pay a
pile of beaver-skins as tal] as the rifle coveted by the chief’s son. When
the duped lad discovered that what he had signed was a deed to the
reservation, he swore vengeance against the trickster and, it is said,
finally killed him. Apparently he was not prosecuted, but white
neighbors shook their heads over the savagery which led him to
knock his own father into a blazing fire for rebuking the son’s in-
ebriety.

When Abram moved to Madison County, he was at first admired
for alleged services to the Patriots in the Revolution; but about the
year 1800, at a house-raising, he damaged his reputation by shooting
another Indian whom he charged with defrauding him of his govera-
ment-allowance. ‘Though his tribesmen accepted a peace-raitsom of
money—as our Anglo-Saxon ancestors might have done—sinister
stories began to seen late about the evil temper of a man for whom
youth could no longer be alleged as an excuse. (He was born about
1750.) It was scored that in one of his rages he had thrust a crying
child into hot coals. During a short reiencs in Canada, it was
whispered, he had fatally ienifed a white man who had insulted him
with a lashing.

Abram’s character was further blackened in 1814 when his beau-
tifu) daughter Mary, alias Polly, was hanged at Peterboro for the
murder of another Indian girl. The defendant summarized her case

440 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

and her code when she said: “She got away with my man and de-
served to die.” Legend reports that Sheriff Elijah Pratt, who con-
ducted the execution, escaped the vengeance of Antone by migrating
to a western state. The principal witness for the prosecution, a half-
breed named John Jacobs, did not fare so well. He too removed
from the neighborhood but foolishly accepted Abram’s message of
amnesty, returned to a farm near Middleport, and fell before the
knife of an avenging father. -
For some time, the old man escaped arrest by posses of Indians
and whites, but was finally captured by a stratagem well known to
our Injun-killers. A man named Curtis induced him, through pride
in his markmanship, to shoot at a target; when Antone’s rifle was
emptied, officers overpowered him and took him to the Morrisville
jail, where he is said to have answered the exhortations of pious
Christians by the simple declaration, “I believe in the God of my
fathers”. At his trial an attempt to deny the jurisdiction of New York
State was over-ruled. Two or three tribes petitioned for him; it was
noted, however, that his own people, the Oneidas, were silent. He
seems to have been puzzled by the whole proceeding. After all, this was
not his first murder; he stated indignantly that the claims of justice
had been fulfilled when he paid $270 as peace-ransom to the proper
Indian authorities. Dissatisfaction with the court’s sentence he ex-
pressed in curt, Indian fashion: “No good way to hang like a dog.”
Before a huge crowd and amid the wails of Indian women he was
“turned off? in September, 1823; his title of Terror of Madison
County passed to a band of Yankee horse-thieves. Mr. D. H. Teed,
who has written the completest account of the case, supplies an

ironic after-word: Curtis, who had betrayed old Abram, moved to

Ohio, where he was murdered by Indians.

A desire on my part to present in truthful fashion the folklore of
our frontier has compelled the inclusion of a few Indian murderers.
Justice demands that I call your attention to the fact that if you
scrutinize our history after the Revolution, you will find the record
of the Red Men clean compared with that of those savage Injun-
killers to whom I have devoted an entire chapter. Mention of justice
recalls an unforgettable anecdote about Red Jacket. After watching
the trial of an Indian, he pointed to the coat-of-arms of the State.

MURDERERS . 441

“What him call?”

“Liberty.”

“Ugh! What him call?”

“Tustice.”

“W here-—him—live—now?”

As you have seen, greed and pride have taken their toll in York
State. The case of Mary Antone reminds us that here (as everywhere)
a third motive has not been lacking—what is vaguely called love, what
might better be called envy, jealousy, and hate. Murdered wives,
husbands, and lovers are recalled in many a ballad or folktale, some-
times of local fame, at least once of national renown. For example,
in our northeastern counties and in Vermont you may still hear
the doleful ballad of T'e Murdered Wife: or, The Case of Henry G.
Green, of Berlin, Rensselaer County, N. Y., which might also be
called, The Strolling Player, or, The Bride of a Week. Let me give
a summary of the facts behind the ballad.

On Sunday, February 10, 1845, a few days before the date pre-
viously announced for their nuptials, Green was married at Stephen.
town to pretty Mary Ann Wyatt, who had been an actress in a
wandering troupe which presented The Reformed Drunkard. On
Tuesday, when the supposedly happy couple returned to the groom’s
house at Berlin, N. Y., Mary was in perfect health. On Wednesday,
Green’s mother told him of rumors—almost certainly false—regard-
ing the actress, whose profession was still regarded with disfavor in
the “deeply rutted villages”. On Thursday, Green organized a
sleighride attended by several friends of the groom including Alzina
Godfrey, who is said to have declared at the party that she’had ex-
pected to be the bride. It seems likely that Alzina’s charms—social,
financial, and sentimental—made her former lover resent his captivity
to another; at any rate, on Friday he obtained from a physician some
opium pills for a “slight indisposition” of his wife. An overdose of

this medicine would have served the groom’s purpose if Mary had

not had a fit of vomiting which rid her of the poison. Green thén
secured in less formal fashion some arsenic. On Monday, the eighth
day after her marriage, Mary Ann died.

The trial for murder opened at Troy, the County-Seat, on July 7th,

seth: _— — poraees —— a
ee et ea ee so

444 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

by a former woodsman. When a student of mine asked the singer
how he could remember all his ballads, the reply was, “How do you
remember your way home?” ,

THE BALLAD OF GRACE BROWN AND CHESTER GILLETTE

The dreams of the happy is finished,

The scores are brought in at last;

A jury has brought in its verdict,

The sentence on Gillette is passed. :

Two mothers are weeping and praying;
One praying that justice be done,
The other one asking for mercy,
Asking God to save her dear son.

All eyes are turned on the drama,
A-watching the press night and day,
A-reading those sweet pleading letters,
Wondering what Gillette would say.

He is now in State’s Auburn dark prison

Where he soon will give up his young life,

Which might have been filled with sweet sunshine
Had he taken Grace Brown for his wife.

But Cupid was too strong for Gillette,

It was playing too strong with his heart,
For the one that had loved him so dearly
Yet from her he wanted to part.

*Twas on a hot, sultry day in the summer
When the flowers were all aglow,

They started out on their vacation

For the lakes and the mountains to roam.

Did she think when he gathered those flowers
That grew on the shores of the lake

That the hand[s] that plucked those sweet lilies
Her own sweet life they would take?

MURDERERS 445

They were seen on the clear, crystal waters
Of the beautiful Big Moose Lake,

And nobody thought he’d be guilty

Of the life of that poor girl to take.

It happened along in the evening,

Just at the close of the day, a
With the one that had loved him so dearly

They drifted along on South Bay.

They were out of the view of the people
Where no one could hear her last call,
And nobody knows how it happened,
But Gillette and God knows it all.

Having described some types of murder remembered by the folk,
I must add that to me the jurors, the sheriffs, the crowds at public
executions—all the folkways revealed—are at least as interesting as
the criminals. The perils and codes of the frontier are implicit in

nearly all the cases which I have reported, but I should like to: add

hat with which this chapter opened. =
omit it would be to lose caste in the land of my fathers; it is the first
and last public execution in the county of Chautauqua. Though it
occurred on May 15, 1835, my cousin “Hugh Wille” Thompson,
for fifty years editor of the State’s oldest Republican newspaper, talks
about it as though it occurred last year.
The murder was a crude, brutal one. In April, of 1834, in the
township of Pomfret, one Joseph Damon killed his wife with a poker.
After more than a year of legal skirmishing, his execution was set
for the date already mentioned. Some idea of the careful preparation
for the great event can be gathered from the following stately com-

| Dogberry to a lakeland Verges:

one more scene similar to t

munication written by a loca
Williams Sir by order from William Sexton High
Sheriff of the County of Chautauqua you are hereby Commanded to
be and appear with your respective Company at Mayville on the r5th
day of this month at 7. aclock forenoon of that day Completely armed
and equipt according to the Law for the purpose of being a part of the
guard to attend the Execution of J. Damond you will parade near the
Jail Get good music and keep them still untill the Square is formed

Lieutenant Stephen

BODY, BOOTS AND

“O dear children, if you were mine,
I would dress you in silk so fine.”—

“OQ dear mother, we were thine;
You did not dress us in silk so fine.

“You had a penknife long and sharp;
With that you pierced our tender heart.

“You flung us into the raging foam,

Saying, ‘Take your turn in the fair maid’s home’

“OQ dear children, can you tell
If my poor soul’s for heaven or hell?” —

“Seven years a hawk in the wood,
Seven years a fish in the flood,

“Seven years attending the bell,
Seven years a keeper in hell!” —

“TP'd] like very well to be hawk in the wood,
Like very well to be fish in the flood,

“Like very well to be tending the bell,
But God keep my soul from being keeper in hell!”

BRITCHES

”
ed

XVIULT: Place-Names

tp Matthew Arnold, full of high seriousness and that com
bination of self-appreciation and despair for others which
makes him so charming, meditated his essay on C ivilisation in

the United States. Partly to irritate the, English, he confesses that
1

-our American social and political problem seems to be so! cd with re-

markable success; our institutions do work well and happily; we are
singularly free from the distinction of classes, singularly homo-
geneous; we see clear and think straight. Although in America “all
luxuries are dear except oysters and ice”’, the bulk of the population
is better paid and better fed. We have dispensed with ridiculous titles,
and our women have great charm of natural manner—a “free and
happy manner”. Yet in spite of these triumphs and advantages our
civilization is not interesting because we lack distinction and beauty.
“In the long-settled States east of the Alleghanies the Jandscape in
general is not interesting.” As for our place-names: |
°

The mere nomenclature of the country acts upon ‘a cultivated person
like the incessant pricking of pins. What people in whom the sense for
beauty and fitness was quick could have invented, or could tolerate, the
hideous names ending in ville, the Briggsvilles, Higginsvilles, Jackson-

449

Att sin

446 BODY, BOOTS AND BRITCHES

keep your men Still and allow none in the Company only Such as ts well
armed, you must parade without any Ceremoneal as there will be a great
Croud and it will be very different from parade days
fail not under the penalty of the Law
Given under my hand at Mayville the first Day of May 1835
William D. Bond
Col 207th Regt.

As the Colonel had predicted, a “croud” of some ten or fifteen
thousand attended the ceremonies—perhaps a quarter of the County’s
population, and it is a spacious County. The place of the hanging has
occasioned disputes in later years; for the sake of Chautauquans only,
I am about to give the exact location as authenticated in the sworn
statements collected by Mr. John J. Thompson of the Mayville
Museum: If you take the road running from the Courthouse toward
Sherman, you will pass an open field then owned by Donald McKen-
zie, who did so much to open the American Northwest. The said field
lies some five hundred feet west from the highway, at the second
ravine of the hill, on a declivity not far from the school. If you can-
not find the spot, don’t blame the Thompson family. East of that
field was another owned by a Mr. Tinkham, who is said to have
made a tidy sum renting camping space for the night before the
execution, at ten cents for each individual.

The clergy always claimed a prominent place at these exercises.
At Damon’s request, Elder Sawyer preached at the gallows from
Proverbs, X1, 19: “So he that pursueth evil, pursueth it to his own
death.” The condemned had the further satisfaction of making a
speech regarding his own case, declaring that he was “unconscious”
when he wielded the poker. With the possible exception of the
Colonel, the Sheriff was the only person present who appeared nerv-
ous. As the drop fell and the prisoner ducked through the trap, the
fastening for the rope gave way, and Damon hit the ground with a
thud. The delicate question now arose as to whether he had not been
hanged—whether he should be permitted to depart at once without
further molestation from the law. Certainly the crowd had enjoyed
all that could reasonably be expected. Anxiously the Sheriff put the
case before a competent Judge who pointed out that the sentence
always reads, “Hanged by the neck until dead”. Somewhat disap

wecsidita Lithctacaaanaalal

MURDERERS | 449

pointed Damon ascended the scaffold once more, to be “turned off”
with a stouter rope.

Ancient British songs remembered in the State prove that the
frontier’s interest in murders was not an American phenomenon.
My collection of “Child ballads”, so called from the name of a
Harvard professor who made the most important edition of British
examples, includes a number which I like to call Penknife Ballads.
In the late middle ages the penknife seems to have been as formidable
a weapon as a Harlem razor, particularly useful in cases of “malice
domestic”.

From Mrs. Frances Ramsay of Lake George, who has enriched
my collection with many a letter, comes a version of The Cruel
Mother (Child, 20), known to her as Down by the Greenwood Side.
She says: “The older girls of the neighboring familics and their
mothers sometimes sang it. We small fry were not supposed to hear
it. We sometimes overheard, but did not put cotton into our ears.”
By overhearing she has preserved in a York State tradition one of the

oldest British ballads:

There was a lady, she lived in York,
All along the lonely-ay.

She fell in love with her father’s clerk,
Down by the greenwood side-ee.

While walking through her father’s corn,
All along the lonely-ay,

She had two pretty babies born,
Down by the greenwood side-ee.

She had nothing to wrap them in,
Only one poor apron thin.

She had a penknife long and sharp;
With that she pierced their tender hearts.

. ?
She flung them into the raging foam,
Saying, “Take your turn in the fair maid’s home”.

While walking near her father’s hall
She saw two pretty boys playing ball.

co Ca ee eh

a ee ee
Pai, 7 a, ae

—
*

Crime and Law Enforcement
wn the Colony of New York
1691-1776

SS ED a

ER ty oe
Se eet

DOUGLAS GREENBERG

Cornell University Press wwaca anv tonpon

saat

UTHER ERT tate tata

apa ai : ond i ly,

Mt
Bi italatit, +} ye Mt) tote
THI He tags

Winner, first New York State Historical Association
Manuscript Award, 1974

All rights reserved. Except for brief quotations in a review, this
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permission in writing from the publisher. For information address
Cornell University Press, 124 Roberts Place, Ithaca, New York 14850.

First published 1976 by Cornell University Press.
Published in the United Kingdom by Cornell University Press Ltd.,
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#4

102 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

refused to name his accomplices, but he warned them to destroy
“all the Money, Plates and Accoutrements that they have by them
and that they may not die on a Tree as J do.” Asking the hangman
not to pull the rope too tight and God to have mercy on his soul,
Owen Sullivan said the Lord’s Prayer and was hanged. Thus
ended the life of the same little boy whose first punishment had
been solitary confinement and a diet of bread and water.*

Sullivan’s story was hardly unique. Francis Burdet Personel was
convicted of murder in July, 1773, at the age of twenty-six, and
while awaiting execution he wrote an “Authentic and particular
account” of his life. Born in Ireland and raised by “careful and
industrious parents,” Personel learned a trade at an early age.
When his father died, he was left to care for his nagging mother.
“Growing weary of her continual admonitions,” he “was resolved
to get out of her reach” and went to America. He stayed for eigh-
teen months, after which time he returned to Ireland and lived
again with his mother, who proceeded to arrange a marriage for
him. The marriage was a failure and Personel set out for America
once more—this time resolving never to return to Britain.

In America, Personel fell in with a group of revivalists in An-
napolis. He soon tired of their preaching and became engaged to
a widow, planning to settle down and practice his trade. But he
changed his mind, stole a horse, and fled to New York where he
married a former prostitute. When he came down with smallpox,
his wife returned to her former profession to support them. He
found this situation unbearable and, in a fit of rage, killed one of
her customers. Thus he “put a stop to the sinful course” he and
his wife had followed. After his conviction, he was converted to
Christ and wrote a brief autobiography in hopes that he could con-
vince others to repent before it was too late.®

Owen Sullivan, Narrative of the wicked Life and surprising adventures
of that notorious money maker and cheat, Owen Sullivan who was hanged
in the City of New-York, May 10, 1756. Together with his dying speech at
the place of execution (Boston, 1756).

> Francis Burdet Personel, An Authentic and particular account of the

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts 103

Like Sullivan and Personel, John Campbell was a recent immi-
grant to the colonies. A Scotsman, Campbell took to crime at an
early age, “profaning the Sabbath Day, gaming, drinking, whoring
and [engaging in] all manner of debauchery.” He emigrated to the
colonies and became a notorious robber, not only in New York but
in the neighboring colonies of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Con-
necticut. He was branded and had his ears cropped at New Haven,
after which he resumed his escapades almost immediately. “Once
[he] had nearly been Guilty of Murder, by throwing a bottle of
water at a Woman . . . which broke her Scull.” He appeared in
the courts of New York for a variety of offenses in the late 1760's,
and finally was sentenced to death in December, 1769, for “rob-
bing Sundry Persons and Vessels.”®

Crime was not the exclusive province of people from poor fami-
lies, of course. Men of greater wealth in desperate circumstances
were also tried in New York’s criminal courts. John Clarkwright
was the son of a “great farmer” in England. But he “met with
great misfortune.in the World which hurt [his] estate much.” He
was forced to go to London where he was “conscripted into the
army.” The army proved his undoing, for it was a “school of vice
for drinking, gaming, whoring, thievery, etc. and everything that
was bad.” His hitch in the army brought Clarkwright in 1756 to
the colonies, where he was captured by the French. At the end of
the war he was released in England, and in 1768 he returned to
America, going first to Maryland and then to New England. Clark-
wright could find no employment and soon was starving. He
turned to crime in order to feed himself, and was arrested for horse
theft. Tried and convicted, he was executed on the twentieth of
July, 1770, at Poughkeepsie.’

life of Francis Burdet Personel written by himself, Who was executed at
New-York, Sept. 10th, 1773, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, for the
murder of Robert White (New York, 1773).

6 John Campbell, A Short Account of the Life and Character of John
Campbell. Now Under Sentence of Death, for Robbery and to be Executed
this 29th of December 1769 (New York, 1769).

7 John Clarkwright, The Last speech and dying words of John Clark-

sy
i
i

100 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

those “prescientific” times there was very little debate at all. Crime
was sin and, in the end, all sin could be traced to Original Sin.
Men were ineluctably condemned to damnation rather than to
ageression—two very different hells to be sure, but as theoreti-
cally unavoidable then as now.

The fundamental sources of crime were never far from the
minds of judges and juries in colonial New York. As one Chief
Justice said in his charge to the Grand Jury in March of 1727:
“We find by almost daily Experience, that in the Conduct of Hu-
mane Life, Men let their Appetites and Passions get so far the
Superiority that they are almost wholly governed by them... .
Men daily offend, notwithstanding their having a sufficient Knowl-
edge of their Duty.”? But despite their certain knowledge that
crime resulted from the essentially corrupt nature of the species,
men were also conscious that specific circumstances also con-
tributed to the commission of crime. Because this was so, the life
stories of condemned prisoners were sometimes published as object
lessons for the citizenry. Fortunately, several of these accounts
have survived, and they allow us to reconstruct with some preci-
sion the social context of “lives of crime” in eighteenth-century
New York.

Owen Sullivan was one of the most notorious criminals in colo-
nial America. The acknowledged leader of a gang of counterfeiters
operating throughout New England and New York, he had no
fewer than six aliases. In March of 1756, after seven years of
disrupting the currencies of the northern colonies, Sullivan was
arrested in Dutchess County, New York, and convicted in the
Supreme Court of the colony. He was sentenced to hang and, after
a brief delay, the sentence was carried out.* Before he was hanged,
Sullivan described the circumstances that brought him to the gal-
lows. His story merits retelling.

2 The Charge given by the Chief Justice of the Province of New-York to
the Grand Jury of the City of New York, in March term, 1726-7 .. .
(New York, 1727), 4.

3 See Kenneth Scott, Counterfeiting in Colonial New York (New York,
1953), 87-94.

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts 101

On the gallows awaiting execution, Sullivan claimed that he had
been a mischievous and disobedient child born of English parents
in the County of Wexford, Ireland. His parents had vainly attempted
to correct his behavior by confining him alone in a room and feed-
ing him nothing but bread and water. “Then,” he said, “I seemed
to humble myself; till again I obtained my Liberty, and after that I
was often Times, worse than before.” In desperation, Sullivan’s |
parents sent him to a schoolmaster, but he ran away to Limerick
where he was placed under a seven-year indenture by a “Gentle-
man” he met along the road. Unhappy with these new circum-
stances, he ran away once more—this time to Boston as an in-
dentured servant. In Boston, he married a woman who was “given
to take a Cup too much,” and he soon enlisted in the army to
escape her “Aggravating tongue.”

In the army, Sullivan became a silversmith, and it was here that
his life of crime began in earnest. Now he had a skill which might
be put to dishonest but profitable use. Soon he was caught counter-
feiting a Spanish dollar and received a whipping of fifty lashes for
his offense. He left the army, going this time to New Hampshire.
He became an engraver and began to issue counterfeit New Hamp-
shire currency. He was caught and sentenced to twenty lashes plus
two hours in the pillory. He was almost immediately apprehended
for the same offense, broke jail, and fled to Rhode Island where,
according to his own estimate, he counterfeited another £1100
of money. He was arrested once more and convicted. This time he
was branded on both cheeks and had his ears cropped. He was
arrested three more times in Connecticut, escaping each time.
Finally, he went to New York where he went into hiding with a
gang he had gathered in the course of his various exploits.

But Sullivan’s career was far from over. “During my stay in
Dutchess County,” he said, “I made large sums of Rhode-Island
Money, of six Assortments, and New-Hampshire Currency ten or
twelve thousand pounds . .. and printed off three Thousand
Pounds . . . of New-York Currency of four Sorts, and had four
different Setts of Accomplices.” Eventually, Sullivan was caught
and convicted for the last time. As he was awaiting execution, he

104 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691~—1776

The experience of immigration often played a role in leading
people to criminal behavior. Immigrants to the colonies were, by
definition, people without firm roots of any kind. They found em-
ployment difficult to obtain and frequently had no family to rely
on in times of economic distress. Being born in the colonies, how-
ever, was hardly a guarantee of a virtuous life. Native-born colo-
nists might also find themselves in trouble with the law. For exam-
ple, a condemned counterfeiter, John Smith, was born in New
Jersey and lived there until he was sixteen. Although he later said
that “the circumstances of [his] life [had] been very precarious”
and that from his youth he had been “exposed to the hard scenes
of life,” he did have an older brother who had married into a
North Carolina family. Going south to visit his brother, Smith
found him “living in great splendor.” The example of his brother’s
wealth determined him to seek “the filthy lucre of gain.” After
marriage in Boston, he began to counterfeit colonial currency. He
was caught and sentenced to be cropped and branded, but he broke
jail, went to New York, and again took up his illicit occupation.
Caught once more, he was tried in court there and hanged at
Albany in 1773.8

All of the individuals discussed thus far were relatively young
men, and all of them were quite explicit in dating their antisocial
behavior to their very earliest years. But some men, like John
Jubeart, came to crime late in life. Jubeart was born on Staten Is-
Jand in 1701. “His parents were industrious Honest People, and
gave him as genteel an Education as their circumstances would
allow; they early instilled his mind with principles of Virtue and
Purity.” Jubeart became a blacksmith as well as a skilled watch
and clock repairman. He married a New Jersey woman who bore
him several children, two of whom died before reaching maturity.

wright who was executed at Poughkeepsie, on Friday, the 20th of July

instant, for horse stealing . . . (New York, 1770).
8 John Smith, The Last speech, confession and dying words of John Smith,
who was executed at Albany ... for counterfeiting the currency of the

Province of New-York ... (Albany, 1773).

Crimes, Criminals, and Courts iOs

After the marriage of his only surviving child, a daughter, Jubeart’s
wife took sick and soon died. This event “threw him into a deep
melancholy” and marked the beginning of his downfall.

The death of John Jubeart’s wife upset the entire structure of his
life. From his own description, he seems to have been seized by a
profound psychological disturbance. “He found himself unsettled,”
he said, “and even at Some-times, a little delirious. . . . The un-

comfortable ideas with which he was perpetually haunted, he.

imagined, could only be alleviated by keeping himself in continual
agitation of body and by removing himself from one place to an-
other.” He became a wanderer, practicing his trade all over New
England. After several years of this, he settled at “a place called
Quaker-Hill in the Great Nine Partners at which place he heard
there was a silver mine.” He found a small quantity of silver,
melted it down with five Spanish dollars and then forged ten counter-
feit ones. He later said that he had no fraudulent intention but was
merely trying an “experiment.” Soon, however, he found himself
low on money and “greatly in need of linen and other necessaries.”
He attempted to pass the counterfeit dollars he had made and was
caught. He was brought to New York where he was tried, con-
victed, and hanged at the age of 68 on September 6, 1769.

All of these men—young or old, rich or poor, immigrant or
American-born—suffered society’s ultimate sanction—the death
penalty. Each man committed a serious crime, and each was forced
to pay with his life for his misdeed. They were not typical crimi-
nals, for the crimes they committed and the penalty each suffered
were severe. But it is for precisely this reason that we know as
much about them as we do and, despite the clear differences among
them, the parallels in their several life stories are striking and bear
brief examination.

These condemned men shared a common rootlessness. None of
them lived in one place for very long. At one time or another, each

®Jobn Jubeart, The Confession and dying statement of John Jubeart, who

was executed at New-York, upon Wednesday, the sixth of September, 1769;
for coining and passing counterfeit dollars ... (New York, 1769).

NEW YORK CITY HANGMAN@

— »«6@INS OF NEW YORK

AS **EXPOSED’’? BY THE POLICE GAZETTE

By EDWARD VAN EVERY

Author of “Muldoon: The Solid Man of Sport”

With an Introduction by
FRANKLIN P. ADAMS

A NEW WONDER OF THE METROPOLIS

With 120 Reproductions of the Original

Woodcut Illustrations

BENJAMIN BLOM, INC.
Publishers New York 1972

1 i RNA an AOE Tae Mae te

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210 Crime and Law Enforcement, 1691-1776

Of these, 694 appeared more than once on criminal charges—a
recidivism rate of 16.36%. In other words, about one person in
six appearing in the criminal courts was a repeater. Moreover, the
mean number of appearances for each recidivist was 2.52. That is
to say, repeaters appeared not only more than once, but often more
than twice.

Since we have, as yet, no reliable basis for comparison, these
figures are somewhat difficult to interpret, but this would seem to
be a relatively high incidence of recidivism in a society which
tended to punish second-time offenders far more harshly than those
making their initial appearance at the bar.2* Indeed, for certain
crimes such severities were established procedures. Grand larceny,
for example, was punishable by death, but first offenders were per-
mitted to “plead their clergy” and be branded rather than hanged
for this capital crime, while repeaters were almost always ex-
ecuted.!® Moreover, a chronological breakdown supports the con-
clusion that the effectiveness of law enforcement declined some-

5,297 Total number of cases
—1,750 Cases involving individuals whose names appeared in more than
one case

3,547 Names which were not repeated
+ 694 Individual repeaters

4,241 Individuals
14In his study of crime in Massachusetts, David Flaherty of the Uni-
versity of Western Ontario has found very little evidence of recidivism and
is inclined to ascribe the absence of repeaters from the court records to the
severity of punishment in the Bay Colony, although penal procedures were,
insofar as I have been able to determine, no more lenient in New York
than in Massachusetts.
_ 15 For example, Catharine Bronson and Elizabeth Clarke were convicted
of grand larceny in October, 1767. They asked for benefit of clergy, “but
it appearing by the Judgement Rolls which were read that the prisoner
Catharine Bronson in the Term of July and August last and the prisoner
Elizabeth Clarke in the Term of April last were respectively convicted of
grand larceny and were thereupon allowed their Clergy, the Court therefore
pronounced Sentence,” and the defendants were ordered hanged. King vs.
Catharine Bronson alias Ranson alias Hannah Harding and Elizabeth
Clarke, S.C.M. (Oct. 26, 1767, and Oct. 31, 1767).

Effectiveness: A Quantitative Analysis 211

what after 1750. Of the 694 repeaters, 285 appeared in the courts
before 1750 and 409 after 1750. Because I have recorded more
criminal cases after 1750 than before, we would expect a greater
number of repeaters in the later period. But that number is greater
than the chronological distribution of all criminal cases would lead
us to predict. Among all cases, 44% occurred in the earlier period,
and 56% occurred after mid-century. Among repeaters, however,
41% appeared before 1750, and 59% appeared after that date—
a difference of 3%. In addition, the recidivism rate, which was
16.36% for the century taken as a single unit, was higher in the
period 1750-1776 than between 1691 and 1749. In the earlier
era, 15.16% of all individuals appearing in the courts were re-
peaters, while in the later period 17.31% reappeared.*® The sig-
nificance of these differences is difficult to gauge, of course, but
they do seem to support the conclusion that the courts were less
effective in preventing those convicted of crime from reappearing
before the bar after 1750 than earlier in the century.

It should be apparent that although the ineffectiveness of law
enforcement in colonial New York was a colony-wide and century-
long phenomenon, the intensity of the problem varied consider-

16 The relevant computations are as follows:
1691-1749
2,332 Total cases :
— 738 Cases involving individuals whose names appeared in more than
one case

1,594 Names which were not repeated
+ 285 Individual repeaters

1,879 Individuals
1750-1776
2,965 Total cases
—1,012 Cases involving individuals whose names appeared in more than
one case

1,953 Names which were not repeated
-+ 409 Individual repeaters

2,362 Individuals

242 Bibliography

Livingston, William, et a/., The Independent Reflector . . . By Wil-
liam Livingston and Others, Milton M. Klein, ed. (Cambridge,
1963).

M’Robert, Patrick. A Tour through Part of the North Provinces of
America, Carl Bridenbaugh, ed. (New York, 1968).

Mereness, Newton D., ed. Travels in the American Colonies (New
York, 1916).

Miller, Reverend John. A Description of the Province and City of New
York . .. in the Year 1695 (reprinted: London, 1847).

Morris, Richard B., ed. Select Cases of the Mayor’s Court of New
York City, 1674-1784 (Washington, D.C., 1935).

Munsell, Joel, ed. The Annals of Albany, 10 vols. (Albany, 1850-
1859).

———. Collections on the History of Albany, 4 vols. (Albany, 1865-—
1871).

O’Callaghan, Edmund B., ed. Calendar of Historical Manuscripts in
the Office of the Secretary of State, Part Il, English Manuscripts
(Albany, 1866).

. Calendar of New York Colonial Commissions, 1680-1770 (New

York, 1929).

_ The Documentary History of the State of New York, 4 vols.

(Albany, 1849-1851).

_ Documents Relative to the Colonial History of the State of New
York, 15 vols. (Albany, 1853-1887).

Old Miscellaneous Records of Dutchess County (Poughkeepsie, 1902).

“Old New York and Trinity Church,” in Collections of the New-York
Historical Society for the Year 1870 (New York, 1870), 147-408.

Osgood, Herbert L., et al., eds. Minutes of the Common Council of
the City of New York, 1675-1776, 8 vols. (New York, 1905).

Padelford, Philip, ed. Colonial Panorama, 1775: Dr. Robert Hony-
man’s Journal for March and April (San Marino, Cal., 1939).

Report of the State Historian of New York, Colonial Series I and I
(Albany, 1897-1898).

“Reverend John Sharpe’s Proposals, Etc.,” in Collections of the New-

’ York Historical Society for the Year 1880 (New York, 1880),
339-364.

Reynolds, Cuyler, comp. Albany Chronicles: A History of the City
Arranged Chronologically from the Earliest Settlement to the
Present Time (Albany, 1906).

Schwartz, Bernard. The Bill of Rights: A Documentary History, 2 vols.
(New York, 1971).

Bibliography 243

Smith, William, Jr. The History of the Province of New York, Michael
G. Kammen, ed., 2 vois. (Cambridge, 1972).

Watson, John F., comp. Annals and Occurrences of New York City
and State in the Olden Times ... . (Philadelphia, 1846).

f Early American Imprints

All of the following titles are catalogued in Charles Evans’ A meri-
can Bibliography, 14 vols. (Chicago, 1903) and are available on the
American Antiquarian Society’s microprint series, edited by Clifford
Shipton. Each title is followed by its “Evans Number.”

Andrews, Joseph. The last dying speech and confession of Joseph
Andrews who was executed at New-York, on Tuesday, the 23d day
of May, 1769, For Piracy and Murder . . . (New York, 1769).
#11152. See also #’s 11149-S1.

Campbell, John. A Short Account of the Life and Character of John
Campbell, Now Under Sentence of Death, for Robbery .. . (New

; York, 1769). #11463.

The Charge given by the Chief Justice of the Province of New-York,
to the Grand Jury of the City of New-York, in March term, 1726-
1727 . . . (New York, 1727). #2933.

Clarkwright, John. The Last Speech and dying words of John Clark-
wright who was executed . . . for horse stealing . . . (New York,
1770). #11602.

Coe, Daniel. An Address to Mr. Thomas Shreeve, coroner for the city
of New York ... [ridiculing him for his failings] (New York,
1772). #12356.

Graham, Chauncey. God will trouble the troublers of his people. A
sermon preached ... July 14th, 1758. Being the day of the execu-
tion of Hugh Gillaspie for Felony . . . (New York, 1759). #8356.

Jubeart, John. The Confession and dying statement of John Jubeart,
who was executed ... for coining and passing counterfeit dollars
. . . (New York, 1769). #11303.

Parker, Joseph-Bill. A Journal of the life of and travels of Joseph-Bill
Parker, now under sentence of death in the City-Hall of Albany,
for counterfeiting the currency . .. (New York, 1773). #12914.

Personel, Francis Burdet. An Authentic and particular account of the
life of Francis Burdet Personel . . . Who was executed at New-
York, September 10th, 1773, in the twenty-sixth year of his age, for
the murder of Robert White (New York, 1773). #12936.

Rum, Sir Richard (pseudonym). At a Court held at Punch-Hall in the
Colony of Bacchus. The Indictment and Tryal of Sr. Richard Rum,

244 Bibliography

a person of noble birth and extraction, well known to both rich and
poor throughout all America who was accused of several misde-
meanors against his Majesty's liege people, viz. Killing some, wound-
ing others, bringing thousands to poverty, and many good families
fo utter ruin . . . (1724). #2582.

Smith, John. The Last speech, confession and dying words of John
Smith, who was executed at Albany ... for counterfeiting . .,
(Albany, 1773). #13019. See also #13020.

Sullivan, Owen. Narrative of the wicked Life and surprising adven-
tures of that notorious money maker and cheat, Owen Sullivan . . .
hanged in the City of New-York, May 10, 1756... (Boston, 1756).
#7796.

Newspapers

The New-York Gazette, 1725-1744.

The New-York Gazette or Weekly Post Boy, 1747-1773.
The New-York Journal or General Advertiser, 1766-1776.
The New-York Weekly Journal, 1733-1751.

SECONDARY SOURCES
Early American Society

Blumenthal, Walter H. Brides from the Bridewell: Female Felons Sent
to Colonial America (Rutland, Vt., 1962),

Bridenbaugh, Carl. Cities in Revolt: Urban Life in America, 1743-
1776 (New York, 1955; reprinted: New York, 1964).

. Cities in the Wilderness: The First Century of Urban Life in
America, 1625-1742 (New York, 1938).

Bushman, Richard L. From Puritan to Yankee: Character and the So-
cial Order in Connecticut, 1690-1765 (Cambridge, 1967).

Butler, James. “British Convicts Shipped to the American Colonies,”
American Historical Review, 2 (1896), 12-33.

Curtin, Philip D. The Atlantic Slave Trade: A Census (Madison,
1969),

Demos, John. A Little Commonwealth: Family Life in Plymouth
‘Colony (New York, 1970).

. “Underlying Themes in the Witchcraft of Seventeenth Century
New England,” American Historical Review, 75 (1970), 1311-1326.

Flaherty, David H. Privacy in Colonial New England (Charlottesville,
Va., 1972).

Genovese, Eugene. Roll, Jordan, Roll: The World the Slaves Made
(New York, 1974).

pena ‘Sessa thle ea se as acladei SRR E> sabotage scarab tana’ Be Te rvanctr seen epee erecta

ACB AS i Heased Mas es eda aaaste eat

18h Re PRL»

Bibliography 15

Greene, Evarts B., and Virginia D. Harrington. American Population
before the Census of 1790 (New York, 1932; reprinted: New York,
1966).

Greven, Philip J. Four Generations: Population, Land, and Family in
Colonial Andover, Massachusetts (Ithaca, 1970).

Historical Statistics of the United States: Colonial Times to 1957,
Series Z (Washington, D.C., 1960).

Jernegan, Marcus W. Laboring and Dependent Classes in Colonial
America, 1607-1783 (Chicago, 1931).

Kammen, Michael G. People of Paradox: An Inquiry Concerning the
Origins of American Civilization (New York, 1972).

Kurtz, Stephen G., and James H. Hutson, eds. Essays on the American
Revolution (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1973).

Lauber, Almon W. Indian Slavery in Colonial Times within the Present
Limits of the United States (New York, 1913).

Lockridge, Kenneth A. “Land, Population, and the Evolution of New
England Society, 1630-1790,” Past and Present, 39 (1965), 62-80.

- A New England Town, The First Hundred Years: Dedham,
Massachusetts, 1636-1736 (New York, 1970).

Main, Jackson Turner. The Social Structure of Revolutionary America
(Princeton, 1965).

Morris, Richard B. Government and Labor in Early America (New
York, 1946).

Mullin, Gerald W. Flight and Rebellion: Slave Resistance in Eighteenth-
Century Virginia (New York, 1972).

Murrin, John M. “Anglicizing an American Colony: The Transforma-
tion of Provincial Massachusetts” (Ph.D. diss., Yale University,
1966).

. “Review Essay [of books by John Demos, Philip Greven, Ken-
neth Lockridge, Robert Pope, and Michael Zuckerman],” History
and Theory, 11 (1972), 226-275.

Nash, Gary. Red, White and Black: The Peoples of Early America
(Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1974).

Norton, Mary Beth. The British Americans: The Loyalist Exiles in
England, 1774-1789 (Boston, 1972).

Potter, J. “The Growth of Population in America, 1700-1860,” in
D. V. Glass and D. E. C. Eversley, eds., Population in History; Es-
says in Historical Demography (Chicago, 1965), 631-679.

Rossiter, W. S. A Century of Population Growth (Washington, D.C.,
1909),

te ED a EER

SINS OF NEW YORK

ot the day and the penalty was meted out with rare expediency, we are informed by
g the Gazette.
‘a On March 16, 1860, the sloop E. A. Johnson left port for Deep Creek,
ny Va., to procure a cargo of oysters. The company on board consisted
of Captain Burr, two boys named Oliver and Smith Watts, and a man
k - known as William Johnson. The captain had with him a considerable
sum of money.
of At six o’clock on the morning of Wednesday, the 21st, the small sloop
in- was picked up by the schooner Telegraph, of New London, Conn.,

: and subsequently towed to Fulton Market slip by the steam tug Ceres.
Here she was boarded by Captain Weed, of the Second Police Precinct,
and Coroner Schirmer, who at once proceeded to make an examination. _

The sloop had evidently collided with some other vessel, as was indi-
to cated by the damaged condition of the bowsprit and cutwater. The sails
were loose upon the deck, and everything denoted confusion and vio-

aa lence. The floor, ceiling, benches and furniture in the cabin were stained
ne with blood, as were also the clothing, bedding and papers which had been
nf scattered about on the floor. Marks of the dragging of some bloody sub-
| stance from the cabin door to the sides of the rails of the boat were discern-
ible, and the spectacle on board the sloop was ghastly and horrible. The

de ~ small boat at the stern was discovered to be missing. |
as Within a short time after this discovery two men residing at 129 Cedar

Street appeared at the Second Precinct Station-house and stated that a man
who was believed to have been one of the crew had arrived at his home in
the house where they resided and had appeared to have come into a for-
tune. By the time the man was sought he had already made a hurried de-
parture with his wife and child. The suspected man was quickly traced
to a place near Providence and he was transferred to the custody of Isaiah
Rynders, now United States Marshal. Overwhelming evidence revealed
; that his real name was Alfred E. Hicks and that he was the guilty man
sought. It took.a jury only seven minutes to pronounce him guilty of
piracy and murder on the high seas. While confined in the Tombs Hicks
ke stated that he desired to make full confession before his departure from
it this earth, and before a large assemblage of officials and reporters the mur-
| derer stood with arms and legs shackled and told minutely and without
sign of emotion of the gruesome happenings aboard the sloop E. A.
Johnson on the night of his dreadful crime.
m He described the affair as having occurred at 9:30 or 10 o’clock at night,
when Captain Burr and one of the Watts boys were asleep in the cabin. He

r said he was steering at the time, and the other Watts was on the lookout

d ~ at the bows. He had been shanghaied from a place in Water Street, he é :
declared, and brought aboard while drunk. Suddenly the devil took pos- a
. session of him, and he determined to murder the captain and the crew ae: 4

| [ 251 ] 2. 4

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[ 249 ]

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SINS OF NEW YORK

on George haughtily with the remark: “Sir, Iam a gentleman and desire to
treated as such.” George said later that this particular ‘ob was the hardest one |
had ever undertaken.

A month or so later came the hanging of Kennedy, who had been guilty
burning down a hotel. He had been an officer in the Union army and was a px
sonal friend of the jailor, the commander of the fort. During the night befo
the hanging a carousal took place in the casement, and it is said that not only tl
Prisoner and the commandant of the fort, but a certain man of the gospel, we:
raised to a more or less exhilarated condition. When George made his appearan:
on the scene and started talking in his blandest tones, the significance of his ide:
tity was not at first grasped by the hazy-headed prisoner. The caller’s pleasa:
manner was found so agreeable that he was invited to have a drink and a cigar, bi

when George started to ask personal questions about the Captain’s weight Kenned
wanted to know:

“Who the hell are you?”

George answered: “Oh, I’m just here to see that everything goes off all right.’

George had to leave the casement in double-quick time. He said it was jus
another of the few unpleasant jobs he had experienced.

Such an enthusiast was George in his vocation, it is a matter of record that whe;
in 1866 thirty Indians were to have been hanged, he communicated with Washing
ton and offered to pay his own expenses to and from the State of Nebraska, sole]
for the purpose of demonstrating how, on a patent gallows which he had invented.
thirty persons, to use his own terms, could be “worked off at once.” This inventior
was secured by a caveat in the Patent Office. While George was waiting an answer
from Washington, President Johnson granted pardons to nearly every one of the
Indians, and thus the invention could not be practically tested, much to the chagrin —
of the proud inventor.

For all his enthusiasm George had a stubborn streak in his system. In 1869,
after Harry Lazarus, who stabbed Barney Friery in a famous killing, and one
Ferris, who had killed his wife with a hatchet in front of the St. James Church
on James Street, had been sent out of the world by Monsieur New York, he refused
positively for some reason or other to put his services further at the call of Sheriff
O’Brien. The latter had to bring in another master of ceremonies and the depar-
ture of John Real was sadly bungled.

[ 248 ]

SINS OF NEW YORK

However, George was not without employment during the régime of O’Brien
as sheriff, or even through the period when capital punishment was abolished in the
State of New York. That law was made to cover the case of Mrs. Hartford, who
had been guilty of doing away with an obnoxious mate in 1858. After the many
killings of the Civil War the law resumed its right to take human life.

They say that, on more than one occasion, the demands for the fine handiwork
of Monsieur New York were such that, since he could not appear in two parts of
the country at one and the same time, the condemned ones had to wait on the con-
venience of the hangman. Possibly, if those who had need of his special attention
would have had any say in the matter, they would have requested George not to
hurry himself. :

Only New Jersey, always behind the age, so we read in the Gazerte, failed to
recognize the talent of the New York Jack Ketch, though George had offered on
a couple of occasions to work for mere glory. However, George was tendered the

compliment of a pass to the execution in the jail yard at New Brunswick of

Bridget O’Brien, who had slain her mistress, the wife of Dr. Corricl.

“Boys, that Jerseyman will make a mess of the job,” was the first remark made
by George when he got a sight of the gallows. Events proved that the affair was
likely to be one of the most unskilful possible.

“What are you trying to do, you damned fool!” cried George, when he saw
the Jerseyman handling the rope, and then, unable to restrain himself, the scien-
tific stranger pushed his way through the crowd and saw to it that Bridget was
sent out of this vale of tears in as laudable style as conditions would permit and
the hand of an artist could assure.

July 13, 1860, however, was the big day in the life of Monsieur New York.
This was the date of the hanging of Alfred E. Hicks on Bedloe’s Island, and it
stands out as a specially gala occasion in the history of New York. Never before
had such a tremendous gathering been privileged to be onlookers upon the handi-
work of the mysterious George. Water carriers by the hundreds, private and excur-
sion, all heavily loaded hugged the island shore. ‘The sail was delightful, the day
balmy, and the law had provided something unusual for the seekers of a morbid
thrill. And, George?—he was truly at his best on this day, and praise cannot well
go beyond this. The crime for which Hicks was punished was the sensation of

[ 250 ]

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PATTERSON SMITH REPRINT SERIES IN
CrIMINOLOGY, LAW ENFORCEMENT, AND SOCIAL PROBLEMS

A listing of publications in the Series will be found at rear of volume

Sebiad ak
PUBLICATION No. 133: PATTERSON SMITH REP... SERIES IN
CRIMINOLOGY, LAw ENFORCEMENT, AND SociAt. PROBLEMS

Recollections of a
New York Chief of Police

by
GEORGE W. WALLING

with a Supplement on the
Denver Police

by
A. KAUFMANN

Reprinted with the addition of
a new Introduction by James F. Richardson

and an Index

Illustrated

MONTCLAIR, NEW JERSEY
PATTERSON SMITH
1972

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

August 27th 1988

Mr. M. Watt Espy

Capital Punishment Research Project
P.O. BOx S77

Headland, AL 36345

Dear Watt:

The following is the information from the New York City Bar Assoc.
Library. It was definitely worth the trouble!

No. l WILLIAM MORAS executed for burglary at White Plains NY on
September 2nd 1721. "Feloniously took 27 pound
Be worth of the goods and chattels of Jonathan Merritt of Rye #
v Confessed and named one Stephen Talladay as accomplice. The

latter was acquitted. (Westchester County).

No. 2 / BENJAMIN WILSON for three seperate indictments of burglary
/ and 'SAM', a negro man of Mr. John Foster of Flushing LI,

for an unrelated burglary. Both executed at White Plains NY |
on December 30th 1726. (Westchester County).

No. 3/ JAMES CAINE executed at Poughkeepsie NY on June 2lst 1735 for
bes unspecified 'felony'. (Dutchess County).
No. 4 ALEXANDER FRASIER executed at Albany NY on July lst 1735 for |
Y an unspecified double-murder. (Albany County).
|
No. 5 GEORGE BROWN condemned to be hanged at White Plains NY on Sept.

22nd 1738 for unspecified 'felony'. Special Note: N
in the margin of the record book is written the following note:
"20 Sept. 1738, Brown is called before the Honorable Court and

tt ts demanded of htm why he should not be executed two days
hence according to sentence. He pleads Hts Majesty's most grac-
tous pardon which the Court allows but orders him to immediately
quit the Province or be punished as a vagrant. N.B. He departed
the Provinee the next day, crossing Hudson River and going to

the Jerstes. As he crossed the river he threw his pardon into

tt and in a day after robbed two men, upon which he was taken,
tried and hanged tn about a fortnight after pleading his pardon."

No. JOHN REEVES executed at White Plains NY on January 24th 1739
for the murder of Polycarpus Nelson. (Westchester Co.)
No. 7 RICHARD COOMBS executed at Jamaica LI on October 13th 1739 for
\/ a burglary in the house of Mr. Benjamin Hinxman.
(Queen's County). |

No. 8 "JEAF' called "Jeaf, a Mustee", (doubtless an Indian), executed at
Southold LI on December 10th 1746 for unspecified 'felony’. pile
(Suffolk County). jf

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

September 9th 1988

Mr. M. Watt Espy

Capital Punishment Research Project
P.O. comand

Headland, AL 36345

Dear Watt:

New York research has finally reached a point where I am ready to proceed
beyond 1783. The enclosed notes represent the last shreds I've been able to
strain from KNOWN sources prior to that date.

There is one big thing missing. The Circuit Court Minutes 1750-1776. The
prior volumes (1721-1749) were at the NYC Bar Assoc. However the subsequent
volumes are whereubouts unknown. They may yet turn up. But there is a very
real possibility that they're lost. Without them we will never have the full
story of the doings of the Travelling Circuit Courts in the quarter century
before the Revolution.

Some insight into this period (1750-1776) is gleaned from the Minutes of
the Governor's Privy Council which are enclosed. As you can see, there were
death sentences galore all over New York Colony during this period -- that
is if the volume of commutations can be an indication. Note in particular
the frequency of death sentences at Albany. So taking into account all those
who got off the hook during the years 1750-1776, we may safely conclude that
there are still a whole flock yet to be indentified during the same period
who did NOT get off the hook.

I will seek the Circuit Court Records 1750-1776. But the prospects don't
look good at this point for their survival. In the meanwhile, I'll have no
recourse but to proceed beyond 1783.

04-29-1780:

01-20-1781:
04-28-1781:
1782:

17838:

1784:

i fa

08-08-1785:

01-28-1786:

08-05-1786:

1707s
1788:
1789:

APRIL 1790:

JULY 1790:

Hendrick Rush & Joseph Hodges both condemned to be hanged on May 12th
for horse-stealtng.

William Hallenbeck condemned to be hanged on June 2nd for betng an

accessory to burglary.

John Smith condemned to be hanged on April ist for a robbery in the
dwelling house of Mr. Frederick Berringer.

Wilhelmus Lampman condemned to be hanged on May 31st for passing coun-
terfett money.

Minutes for this year record convictton of James Yates for mass-murder
but do not spectfy sentence.

No death sentences recorded.
MISSING.

Petrus Cooper and Christian Cooper both sentenced to death for highway

robbery committed upon Mr. Johan Tice Wagoner.

Hendrick Sauk sentenced to death at same session for horse-stealing.

[Execution dates unspecified tn these cases]

Jeremiah Arnold condemned to be' hanged on "first Friday in Sept." for

horse-stealting.

Wilitam Wright condemned to be hanged on March 3rd for highway robbery.

Caleb Gardiner condemned to be hanged on Sept. 15th for passing. coun-
terfett money.

MISSING,

No death sentences recorded.

[Court sttting at New York City] Witlltam Glover condemned to be hanged

on June 4th for robbing Mr. John Collins in his sloop while moored in
the harbor.

[Court sttting at Albany] Timothy Scott condemned to be hanged on Sept.
10th for forgery.

DEATH SENTENCES RECORDED IN ORIGIONAL MINUTES BOOKS OF SUPREME COURT OF JUDICATURE,
STATE OF NEW YORK, 1777-1790. LOCATION: HALL OF RECORDS, NEW YORK CITY.

NOTE WELL: There were many death sentences handed down by Spectally Commisstoned
Courts as well as by Milttary Tribunals in the State of New York during
thts pertod. The following list deals EXCLUSIVELY with ctviltan cases
handled in the regularly scheduled sessions of the newly created State
Supreme Court: the successor of the colontal Supreme Court.

NOTE WELL: All death sentences recorded here are impossible to either confirm or
discount ustng court records alone. Must tentatively classtfy them all
as unconfirmed pending search of newspapers.

NOTE WELL: Handle death sentences for horse-theft with extreme caution. Such offenders

were almost always pardoned in New York.

The Supreme Court of Judicature (Reestablished) was created by the Patriot forces
to succeed the recently suspended Royal Court of the same name which had functioned
since 1691. It was designed to be exactly the same as the former court but this time
under the auspices of the newly established State of New York. The court's first
session was held at Kingston in September of 1777. The minutes of this Kingston
sitting have survived and they contain one civilian death sentence.

Sept. 18th 1777: 'Jack', negro slave of Frederick Schoonmaker
of Marbletoun, condemned for an attempted
/ rape upon a whtte woman named Catherine Helme.

As of yet it is undetermined whether or not 'Jack' was executed. The British moved
against Kingston the following month and the town was sacked and burnt. The Patriots
then fixed their capital at Albany and it was there where the Supreme Court of Judi-
cature held its sessions for the remainder of the Revolution and at periodic times
beyond then.

ALBANY SESSIONS:

10-31-1778: Stephen Ducalon condemned to be hanged on Nov. 27th for robbery in
the dwelling house of Mr. Henry van Renssalaer.

05-01-1779: William Houghtaling condemned to be hanged on May 8th for a robbery
in the dwelling house of Mr. Tunis van Slyck and a similtar robbery
tn the dwelling house of Mr. Michael Hallenbeck.

07-31-1779: John Stttimon condemned to be hanged on August 13th for a robbery in
the dwelling house of Mr. Johannes Righter.

11-13-1779: Johannes Weighman condemned to be hanged on Dec. 8rd for a burglary in
the house of Mr. Albertus van Loon.

Johannes Goenenpagh condemned to be hanged on Dec.3rd for a robbery
tn the dwelling house of Mr. Stephen Haight.

Frederick Baum Moucke condemned to be hanged on Dec.3rd for the same.

CONFESSIONS
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GIBBS & WANSLEY

On Fifi’ island. iu the Harbour of New-York, on the 22d
April, 1831, under the direction of Tuos. Mounris, Esq.
U. States Marshal.— An interesting aceount of their lives
will be found within, but the individual crime which
broaght them to the Gallows, was the Murder of the Cap-
tain and Mate of the Brig Vineyard, at fea, bound from
New-Orleans, to New-York.

— oO
NEW-YORK: :
Printed and Sold br Christian Brown. No. 211, Water Street.
Between Beekman and Fulton-sts.

1
H

COURTESY OF THOMAS M. MCDADE.

sharp axe cut the rope holding the weights, and the two prisoners were
jerked up under the beam.

When they were brought down, three-quarters of an hour later,
John Browere, a sculptor ( whose collection of life masks of famous
Americans now rests in the Museum of the New York State Historical
Association at Cooperstown), made death masks of the two dead
pirates. Undoubtedly, the busts of Gibbs and Wansley were intended

ad ike ee eee eee

AS LO a a aia nie

THOMAS M. MCDADE

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Christian Brown 43°

for an American Madame Tussaud’s; unfortunately these pieces have
now disappeared.°*

The law, however, was not quite done with Gibbs and Wanslev.
Their sentence had included a direction that their bodies be turned
over to the medical college for dissection. Undoubtedly as a result of
that direction, Gibbs attained a minor immortality usually reserved
for saints. Today there rests on a shelf in the Museum of the General
Society of Mechanics and Tradesmen of the City of New York the top
portion of a human skull on which it is written that it belonged to “the
Pirate who went by the name of Gibbs” Adjacent to it is a Mexican
silver dollar labeled “silver Mexican coin taken from Gibbs the Pirate
before his execution”

Christian Brown enjoved a great success with his works on the
Gibbs case. His first publication gave the confession, then the trial
appeared, and finally the execution was reported in full detail. Rather
than make up an entirely new work on each phase, it was Brown’s
practice to add a new title page to the earlier work and with a few
additional pages include the new development in the first pamphlet.
Nor did the interest immediately die out with the executions. 4 vear

later, in May 1832, Brown was releasing his seventh edition, probably

his last on that work. At the same time he issued a work on a matter-
of-fact wife murder in New York and another on the slave insurrection
in Virginia the year before led by Nat Turner in which fifty-five whites
were murdered and nineteen Negroes hanged.

But there were only two more publications to come from Brown's
printshop: the sensational Pennsylvania case of Lucretia Chapman
and her Spanish lover, Espos y Mina, charged with poisoning her hus-
band, and that of Joel Clough, executed for murdering a woman who
refused to marry him. With the Clough case Brown’s career as a crime
publisher came to an end. No more lurid publications were to issue
from his Water Street office. In 1835 he started moving again, taking
his bindery first to 23 Ann Street, then 73 Forsyth Street, then to 145
Hester Street. He was living at Chrystie Street when he died suddenly

Oe yer, 3 Ol, ae
—- PORES OTE 0 BIC LGRE AB BR 6 aa PEAT RR NEN tn > nee =;
ta te OE Cr tl il ce a MT cierto

yee es
Etom THOMAS M. MCDADE
August 2, 1840 at the age of sixty. He was buried in the Methodist ‘ irs : ;
Episcopal Cemetery at First Street and Second Avenue, but his resi- Prog Saeryish ii Practice
dence there was no more permanent than his bindery office. In less
go i ies the ground, like all property in New York, became too NEW YORK STATE
valuable to house the dead, and all the occt ts w y |
Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn. al ah aaa ee ee ee
For the next twenty-five years his son, alternately appearing as : AMENDMENT

printer or bookbinder, took his place in the directory under the same
name. In the 1867-68 directory he appears as binder at 147 Hester

Street for the last time. By the following year he had vanished and the By JOHN D. BUENKER®

firm of Christian Brown was no more.

oe of the most lively debates of the entire Progressive Era was
one which took place in the New York legislature in 1910 and 1911
over the federal income tax amendment. Few other issues aroused so
much concern or occupied so much space in the state’s newspapers.
The legislature was deluged with petitions and swamped by lobbvists
representing some of the nation’s most prominent and affluent citizens
who sought to block ratification of the amendment. Within a short
time the contest had become a national issue with distinguished polit-
ical leaders from both parties interjecting themselves into the frav.
The arguments that the opponents of the measure used against it in
New York were gleefully seized upon by like-minded people in several
other states, and one of the issues involved stirred up such a contro-
versy that it even reverberated back to the halls of Congress.

But perhaps of even greater interest to the historian is the light
which the struggle over the Sixteenth Amendment sheds on the nature
of Progressivism itself in the Empire State. Since few historians would
deny that the federal income tax amendment was one of the most
significant accomplishments of the period, it should be a matter of no
small consequence to learn that its passage in such a kev state as New
York was not due to the forces commonly associated with reform, but
rather to those who are generally castigated for opposing it. For the
ratification of the amending resolution must be attributed first and
foremost to efforts of the Tammany elements who dominated the

—S

> a Fan
a>

aj)!

i Aa

* The author is Assistant Professor of History at Eastern Illinois University.

Faye Seven

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

3. The Calendar of State Papers contains the following entry under the
date of September 7th 1699.
"The Attorney General ts ordered to draw up a spectal commission to
try the Indian that burned her master's barn."

Since a place name is not specified, it seems probable that the location
of this court was New York City, the home base. Note in particular that
the defendant is female. The records of the actual case have perished.
So we are left with merely an iffy possibility.

4. Another Commission of Oyer & Terminer was issued by Council Order on
August 5th 1700 to hold a special court at Albany for the trial of
THOMAS LONG and JOHN PLEATS, accused of felony. They were two of three
deserters from the Albany garrison. By an Act of the New York General
Assembly "for preventing soldiers listed in His Majesty's service in
this province of New York from deserting His Majesty's sd. service",
passed on May 16th 1699, deserters were to "suffer ye pains of death"
upon conviction in "any court of record within this province" and the
man who captured them to receive "for his reward 5-0-0 per head over
and above ye charges he shall expend in bringing them to either ye New
York or Albany garrisons." Long and Pleats were prosecuted under this
law and were almost certainly executed since a reward of 20-03-08 was
ordered paid to their capturor following their conviction.

Special Note: Drake's Annals of Witchcraft states that a woman was
hanged at Albany for that crime in the year 1700. But
it was probably a lynching.

delegations of Indians and on July 28th the River Indians reported
to him: "There ts an accident now happened to one of our people
called 'Mintechque' who ts desperately wounded by four negroes, who

: De In July of 1702 Governor Cornbury had gone to Albany to confer with

have confessed the fact and are now in prison. We thank your Lordshtp
for the great care you have had in dressing hts wounds, ete." The
wounded Indian died and on August 5th 1702 the Governor issued an
Oyer & Terminer Commission to sit at Albany for the trial of four
negroes for the murder of "the chief of the River Indians". On August
13th the Indians said "that there had been a court kept now four days
about the negroes that killed Minichque and prayed for informatton.
His Excellency replied that they would all be executed on Wednesday
next. But the Sachem Sackquans satd that when Mintchque was wounded,
he desired no revenge and therefore they humbly tnterceded with Hts
Excellency that the negroes be pardoned. On August 19th His Excellency
tnformed them that he had reprieved three of the negroes in accordance
with their request but had caused the ringleader to be executed."

So we have here the case of one unidentified negro executed at Albany
sometime between August 13th and 19th 1702.

Pare Sip

was that if a capital crime occurred within two months of the regularly scheduled
sessions of the court, the parties were all to travel to New York. However if the
case occurred during the other ten months of the year, an Oyer & Terminer Commission
was to be issued and a special court held at the respective county seat. Hence we
find capital cases popping up all over the colony during the period 1691-1704.

I will begin with the sessions held in New York City. There are six death sen-
tences recorded in the Court Records of the New York City sessions for 1691-1704.
Only three of them appear to have held up and to have been carried into effect.

These three cases are those of Leisler and Milbourne and a more obscure case in 1/01.

"At a Special Court of Oyer & Terminer and General
Gaol Delivery held for the city of New York, this
11th day of August Anno 1701.

/ The Grand Jury present Henry Lewis for the murder
of John Brandsted. Prisoner pleadeth Gutlty. Sentence
of Death passed upon the prisoner."

It seems quite probable that this Henry Lewis did in fact swing. There is no
record of a commutation anywhere to be found although there are such records in
every single other case where a death sentence was known to have been overturned
on appeal.

Now we must proceed, one by one, to examine the extraordinary Courts of Oyer &
Terminer which were held around the colony during the period 1691-1704.

a In the Records of the Governor's Executive Council under the date of
December 19th 1695 we find the following:

"Warrant for a Court of Oyer & Terminer in Ulster County."

This almost certainly pertains to the unidentified slave you record at
Kingston NY in 1696. Kingston is the shire town of Ulster County. Alas,
the trial documents are lost. But I'd be interested in your source since
I may be overlooking something here where additional details may be had.

va On November 12th 1698 Governor Bellomont reports in a letter to the
Boards of Trade: "I formerly acquainted your Lordships in my letter
of 14th Sept. that WILLIAM SIMPSON, a soldier, had killed an Indtan
Sachem and wounded one or two more at Albany and was trted and lay
under sentence of DEATH. And then I was of opinton that he ought to
suffer accordingly notwithstanding the intercesston of the Indians
for hts pardon when I met them at Albany. And I destred your Lordships
would direct me what course to take wtth htm. But now I must make a
humble request that the man may be pardoned lest I should be brought
up tnto a praemuntre myself. The matter ts thts: The King's commtsston
restrains me from erecting Courts of Judicature tn criminal cases
without consent of His Majesty's Counctl. Now I can be deposed that
to the best of my knowledge and remembrance I did acquaint the Counctl
with the notice sent me of the murder of that Indian and Col. Courtlandt
and the Attorney General both say they are conftdent I did so and a
Commisston of Oyer & Terminer was sent up to Albany to try that soldier
that murdered that Indtan. But itt seems Mr. Jamisen, the late clerk of
the Counetl, who lay upon the wateh to betray me, has omitted to minute
my taking the concurrence of the Counetl tn the satd Commisston and I
am told tts tntended to be made the ground of a hetnous complaint against
me."

We are left in doubt as to the eventual fate of this William Simpson.

Page Eight

This brings us down to the year 1704 when the Annual Supreme Court of Judicature
split into Quarter Sessions. The ensuing records have never been published so I'll
have to go to the origional source for the period 1705-1733 afterwhich newspapers
take over. Its going to be very rough sledding.

You show a slave at New York City in 1697 and an Isaac Jones in Olde Orange Co.
oA, ing 1703. I can't find anything on them. Would appreciate more info.

Have fun tearing this one apart!

on ~

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

June 28th 1988

Mr. Watt Espy

Capital Punishment Research Project
ices a ped: Sap a es

Headland, AL 36345

Dear Watt:

Concerning our ongoing scrutiny of New York, it will be noted that I've
so far traced down to the year 1733 -- the point at which newspapers commence.
The next installment of information is almost ready. However before sending
it along, I've uncovered some important tidbits from the prior period which
must first be addressed.

CASE NO. 1 Let us begin with the case of the Unidentified slave who

was executed at New York early in 1697. From three different
sources, I am able to piece together some details of the case. Please note the
following three citations:

"January 8th 1696/7: Examination. P.French Jr. & John Aubayneau in relation to
a case of the killing of James Boyce, a blockmaker, by a negro in New York."
(Source: Calendar of Historical Manuscrtpts tn the Office of the Secretary of
State, Albany NY. Edited by E.B. O'Callahan. Weed, Parsons & Co. Printers,
Albany NY 1865).

"February 3rd 1696/7: 'Mary', a negro, is ordered arrested as an accessory at

the murder of John Boyce" (Source: New York City Court Records 1684-1760. Court
of General Sessions. Edited by Kenneth Scott. Nattonal Genealogical Soetety, Wash-
tngton DC. 1982).

"Account of John Tudor, High Sherrif, in amount of 12-0-06 for food, fire, irons,
timber, carpenter's work in building a gibbet and hanging a negro convicted of
murder." (Source: Ibid. Under same date also).

Now by put together these puzzle-pieces, we come up with the following: An
unidentified negro killed Mr. John Boyce at New York very early in January 1697.
He was tried by a Special Court, convicted, executed and hanged in irons the
same month. He had a presumed female accomplice named 'Mary' who apparently beat
the rap. Be very careful not to confuse this case with that of an unidentified
slave at Kingston the previous year. If you will compare your index cards for
both cases, you will note that your origional source, Greenberg's "Crime and Law
Enforcement in the Colony of New York", you will see that Greenberg garbled his
sourcing citation by referring both cases to the same entry of 2-3-96/7 in the
Records of the Court of General Sessions. Also bear in mind that this so-called
Court of General Sessions was a minor tribunal. It did NOT have the power of life
and death. Capital offenders were sometimes initially arraigned before it but
ALWAYS remanded to the higher Supreme Court of Judicature or Special Court of Oyer
& Terminer. It did, however, have the authority to approve bills for sherrif's
expenses. Hence we occasionally find it handling the costs of executions; but no
more than that.

New York Cases for which you have ne details.

1893. Kornell Lash. New York Daily Tribune 1/17/93. 3:2 Says he was a

ZL year old ethnic Hungarian who worked in a brass
Toundey. Gives his name as ‘Kornel Loth’. He claimed
Indebtedness to one Alexander Demacsek of Schenectady
who Supposedly offered to ag eg the debt if Lash
would vid him of his wife. So on 6/14/92. he took
atrain up ftom NYC and murdered the woman in her
house by blungeoning her with a. brass rod, stabbing

hee and cuthig her throat. :
1846. houis Hermane.. New York Herald 4/24/96° b+ say that he shot his
/ Wife because he was ‘angry at her for not having come.
Heat to visit him in prison during a Stretch thathe hed
4 ~~~ Sust completed "He was oné- eyed: ; )

(846 Charles Fustalka. New York Herald ‘(24/96 6+6 says he was a buteher
outice ! by trade and obsessively jealous of his wife. She fan a
re 4 lithe cafe where he subpected her rapport with male
> Customers. He slit hee throat with a butcher Knife as
She |ay asleep one night and then dragged her body
tyrto the Kitchen Where he Slashed hee to mincemeat.

1397. Charles Bu ;, New York Herald (2/8/97 14:3 says he was a farm
: | Lv bed the employ of Henry V. Whitlock of North Victory.
| On 3[6[95 he exticed him ito the barn where he killed

him with an ote. Then he went iste the farmhouse and.
faped Mrs. Whitlock.

(409. Williaa Jones No. mention in any of the New York papers.
Herald, Times or Tribune. |

NYO William Morse< oni a Ma Sib says he was a negro
who ly Shet Policeman Ealward Bostanaugh wh rooklyn
\ ih 1907 as he Came tothe rescue of a woman sho Morse

Was assaulting .

1910. John Barcbuto. New York Herwld (/H/10 536 says he murdered Gaetan
: : Ms Finizi oct Middletown NYon New Years Day, (104.

(V1. Joseph Nesee. — Nomention by any New York Fapers.

“TAIL. Joseph Naceo.. No mtention by New York papers.

1412. C. Caruso. No mention by New York papers.

"a Condido. - NewYork Herald 5[-7/12 5:4 says he Killed Reginald F Baylis

Foreman of the Rockland Trap Rock Co
Regt te Se ES oar mind

@ 1913. Gregorio Patini. © Execution A. Crime not reported. But New York Times
: : 4/16/13 4:5 reports aPremation of Case by State
mo reatue ys Crime was Committed! ape
in stehester County on 12/18/10. Fatini
had ert vendetta st famil ee ks
hed run off with his Sister. And in the Course

ees tell , thereof, he bushwacked and Killed one Giuseppe Vesta.
(417. Alex Shuster7 © Alias Gollstein. Execution net reported. But
| | wy Nes York Times 2/22/17 4:7 reports conviction
and Saue thet he murdered his landlady, Rose Zamkin,
on i) Ic by bashing her over the head with a hammer,

New York Herald G/i4/( 2:4 Says hewas
accomplice oF John Kushnericzik who was executed
three weeks previously for murder oF Gladys Cominsky
oF Minevillé in November (916. She was shot dead

| She resisted them.

1918. Hyman Otransiy- = New York Herald of\a/'8 2:4 Saus that he Killed
his sweetheart, Dora Cohen, in NYC in November (917
because she jilted him.

18. Alvah Briggs. N K Herald 6/14/18 2:4 says quadrup|
4 kaos masaler bf Potsdam Ny h car earlibr. Infatated
Harriet Ladue. She

with [7 year old girl nam
Spurned him So he wenton rampage with shotqun
and blew away girl's aunt, two uncles and a neighbor

Who all came to her assisfance when he tied +3
abduct her. Names of vichins were Mr. & Mrs. dames
Engers, James Ladue and Dr. Jenkins.

918. Johann Berg. Not merrhioned by New York papers.

A914. ery New York Times. 1/10/19 {123 Saus he shot down

one May Lewis ena Brooklyn street on 2/18/18.
He was 40 years old.

1920. NVincenz : ito NewYork Herald 1/4 20 4:3 he murdered
© | tal Aibest ye ion Pasquerel LP Seehect four years previously

mie rtiné, «NN k Ties 5/14/20 6:2 says he killed
ee Pauper dur a holdup. ‘ e

1920. Richard Harrison., New York Times 5/4/20 6:2 Says he Killed a
awwsld 3 fo Cane sees oy Georae Griffins at the Knickerbocker

1920. James Byrd. Newo York Herald 7 (7: Susie he. dered
Y is MB awed Tiaslao | tt Kingt be oe =

1920. John Bul New York Herald 1/22/21 18:3 Says he was a neato
Who murtered Mc. Mrs. Edward Johnson in their home of
852, East 24th St. Brooklyn. He had previously been an
| inmate of two madhouses but was pronounced Competent.
The guards had to beat him int submission on the eve of
his execution -
1421. Angelo Giordano. New York Times 94/2/21 2:5 soy4s thathe had sivut ome
d Y TONS le

irmacsetene . put
up a Stooge named J. . Nattaro to Firtall Shoot fa

tried to hang himself on the eve of his execution. ~ He
Spen Forty mortths on death row.

(921. Eluard MeNally. Mew York Times. 9/16 (2) 22:2 Says that he was one of
three men who robbed a restaurant at Mariner's Cove,

Staten Island overa year previously, during which heist
A Man named Walter daskowski was Shot to death. Thetwo
Cronies got life ;

1922: George ware Vork Times 3{3(22 21:1 says he blew away his

‘chum’ Edward Shannon over a $ 0 aie bet.
Unacy commission ruled him ‘defective’ but sane.

1422. William Bell, New York Times {16/22 (4:7 Says he was 2.6 year old
a who murdered a ¢ named Milton Scheer during
~ aholdup at Corona long |sland over a year previously:

1922. gi New York Times 6/30/22 [9:4 says he was aged 65 and

Ambler named Guiseppe Verrazano four years earlier.
pinta de was executed for masterminding a corttract Killing. He

Known aS ‘The Death House Poet’. Murdered Arithony Orlando
at Tuckahoe in (419.

1922. SaiteTaizo. | New York Times Mig ie 2:3 Says he was a 21 year old
| \

6+ Stranqled anether Jap named Mitare Hara with
a rd during A Bato hotel rabberi In NYC on fof4/21.

A blind man was among the official witnesses and he gave as
his (enson a.desite-to *sense the feeling of an exectction.

1423. Henry Brown’ New York Times 1(26(23 5:5 saus he was a you ro
1 , who pape oO He ihre cpa re Blaus ae | uri

ne of he home in the Bronx by beating her fo death

192.3. William Evans. New mi k Times 4/20/43 (9:7 a he was age 2.2, and
. ore. ue unks who heldup Paul Gillman's drugstore in
Brooklyn at 2/23/22 and kifled him in the process.

1923. Michael -ffadiano. .New York Times 44/27/23 3:3 Says he blew away Police

|
Offiver Doualas Da: was Serving him with a Summons
for Vole the hath aia sa dal ie

1912. Guiseppi Cerelli. New York Herald. 7/9/12 6:6 says he
so er Stabbecl to death a fellow worker named
f Nick Faula on 2/4/11 as were Engaged
in building the Catskill acqu uct in YorKers.

[A12. George Willi é. New York Herald 7/4/12 6:6 says he was a
, negro who Killed Charles K. Conklin, the ticket
agent et the Croton falls RR station on 4/8/II.

(412. John Maruszewski. No mention in New York papers.

1913. William Linglui New York Herald 5/6/13 14:4 Says he was a | 2
career criminal who murdered one. Fatrick Burns, |

a Bronx saloon Keeper on 2/11/|2,.

1213. — Michael Goslinski. No mention in New Yor kk Papers.

1913. Andrew Manco. /.New York Herald 7/3/13 15:6 says qunshet murder
of Philo Carpanillo on the streets iddlefown NY
at hat ‘a , His pie ine a lone pais ee

Sor all ni sittin a Stone Wal| wea
ee shawl. ‘querd came ern to wes when the sun

Came up and handed overto her her dead husband's
rosary ‘beads.

(44. Joseph MeKenn New York bee a(3/t 5:7 “ he hyper sote
| Sev Id girl named Siari i
25 / couse aldh a.tochtalaad assault tn ac vai in (2 ;

(214+. William Bressen New York Herald 9/3/14 5+7 Says he was a fesse
who on 3/6/14 gunned down Policeman Thomas G. Wynn

in Brooklyn antag Course of a. drug Store heist.

Victim livigeredl for three weeks. There were two
accomplices inthe burglary viz. Gorden Stevens whe
was Killed by the cops. And James Martin Whe act life.

IQ15. Guiseppe Gino» No merrtion jin New York papers.

41s. Villiam Ferey. _ NewYork papers mention Dingess very Tieetingh.
| of Itibun<,

‘ The most T can Pind comesfrom The New ¥
to 4/45 \2:S which Says lhe was a mulatto who
“Killed his sweetheart in Harlem’ Evidently a black
on black case.

IV16. Allen Bradford. No mention of crime or exetution. But New York Times
C/\b (6*| reports uabble. on Lise Wie tocu ce. and
Viele ten aes been recuted for tnuclerti4 his wife. I

We was a hitma Lo by ore
che olettion of Sx Jes! Crime conmited (24

fi age Five

DANIEL ALLEN HEARN

areas of the colony to the Courthouse in New York City. It was held once a

year in each respective county. Alas, the records of this court are a researcher's
nightmare. They are scattered among eight different counties, (not centralized

in any archive), and only two are definitely known to have survived: those of
Ulster and Dutchess Counties. And even they are inaccessible. Fortunately for us
though, the life of this court was short: 1683-1690. I have been forced to rely

on the Minutes of the Governor's Privy Council for source material for this
period. There are undoubtedly executions in this eight year period which are
escaping me since I've only been able to strain out the following data from the
above source:

3-2-1685: "Warrant to the sherrif of New York
to disinter and hang in chains 'Cuffy',
a slave of Col. Lewis Morris, executed
for arson."

| / Note: We may presume that 'Cuffy' was hanged

\/ at New York City in February of 1686.
If he had been burned there wouldn't
have been anything left to dig up and
hang tn chains.

5-7-1687: "Commission of Oyer & Terminer to Matthew
Mayhew, John Gardiner and Thomas Mayhew,
to try a murderer."

Note: One has to be familiar with local history
to cateh the unspectfied data which this
entry tells us. The judges were all very
prominent Long Island men. We may presume
that they petittoned for an Oyer & Terminer
commission to try a Suffolk County slave.
An tffy entry but highly suspictous.

5-30-1690: A letter from Jacob Leisler, Governor of
New York, in which he extradites a French-
man named 'LaFloures' who had been condemned
at "New Bristol’ for murder.

Note: See the attached copy of the letter. I can
not ascertatn the location of New Bristol.
Make what you will of this one.

The year 1691 brought yet another reorganization of the New York courts. In
that year was established "The Supreme Court of Judicature". This court replaced
the travelling Circuit Courts and reverted the system to that of the former
Court of Assizes. i.e. a once-a-year session at New York City to which all parties
were required to travel regardless of difficulty. This court lasted 1691-1704 in
the presently described form. The Minutes of the Court for this thirteen year
period are preserved in the publications of the New York Historical Society. But
now the going gets even trickier. The policy of the Supreme Court of Judicature

Fane Four

of the laws. The list of Capital Crimes was soon amended to include rape

and burglary. However it was not until the dawn of the 18th century that

the dam really burst. In the year 1699 was passed an infamous Act decreeing
DEATH for anyone who stole to the value of five shillings -- i.e. one dollar
and twenty cents!!!!!! Through succeeding years Acts were heaped upon Acts,
making this and that a capital offense until the New York statute book fairly
groaned under such statutes. Hence we read of highwaymen, forgers, counter-
feiters, pirates,, petty thieves, horse-stealers, even pick-pockets being
hurried to the gallows. Matters reached a climax just previous to the Rev-
olution when the Stamp Act was passed; the denominations of tarrif stamps
ranged from one penny upwards. To falsify such a stamp in New York was DEATH,
so that to defraud the state of one penny put one in jeopardy of his life!

In the year 1665 the English established the "General Court of Assizes"
to handle all serious criminal matters in the colony of New York. This court
was in existence from 1665 to 1683. It was held once a year at Fort James,
previously Fort Amsterdam on Manhattan Island. The records are a mess. Those
for 1665-1672 are preserved only in transcript form at the New York Public
Library, the origionals having perished in the State Archives fire of 1911.
There are two executions in this seven year period:

os » The case of 'Will', an Indian, executed at New York
for raping a white woman, Mary, the wife of John Miller
of Easthampton, Long Island. Death Warrant issued on
April 21st 1668. Exact date of execution uncertain.
Confirmed anyway since sherrif's bill is cited.

yan The case of Angel Hendricks, a harlot who killed her
“ illegitimate child by lowering it down a well in a
ve basket weighted with rocks. Executed July 17th 1669
: at New York.

The Dutch resumed occupation of New York City in 1673. The English re-
tained Albany, to which the Court of Assize was transfered. There were no
executions under the Dutch occupation of the city although there were two
under the English at Albany which you already cite. The English regained
New York City in 1674 and returned to the previous system. But the Court
of Assize Records for 1674-1679 are lost and I have been forced to fall
back on the Minutes of the Governor's Privy Council for the only surviving
glimpses of the period 16/4-16/79. They contain two entries of interest:

Sept. 30th 1677. Petition by George Hall of Esopus

; to be indemnified for the loss of

s s negro slave who had been executed for the murder
of two women in the summer of 1676." (A nameless confirmation)

May lst 1678. Order relative to the Negro Woman belonging
te to John Stratton of Easthampton, who murdered
‘ers her child. Bail to be taken." (A rather weak
sounding possibility).

The records for 1680-1682 have survived but contain no capital cases.
In 1683 the General Court of Assize was abolished and replaced by the "Court
of Oyer & Terminer and General Gaol Delivery". This was a travelling Circuit
Court which was created to remedy the problems of transportation from remote

thoy Y th. Spte o

lp iteyher Actos Weed, — }. eT ME¢?

mene

ae Me dk 24 | "

252 “ADMINISTRATION OF 4

EISLER. TO MAJOR WALLEY *

[Date, about auth May, 1690)

Sir—The prisoner Lafores having been knowen here to have
committed a murder & condemned at new Bristell being catched
and evident proofe as above deposed, bave thought convenient to
send to.you by Capt: Anthony Low that the s¢ Condemnatione
may be executed, I hope before now your promised forccs may
be at Albany, If not we with you may receive desperate disap-
pointments I have here a french knight who was sent to doe
your and our busines by our Indianes, and if we had been of
such slow motion as we find new England is, he had certainly pre-
vailed to our utter ruine, Ireferre you further to Mr. Low, &
remaine &c.

. >>

e g
SEC: ALLYN TO LEISLER:
; Hartford May 25th 1690

Hoxsrie Srr—we thank your kynd reception of our Com™ &
certifie your Hont that in persuance of their promises & the gene-
rall good we have sent Capt. Johnson & his company consisting
of about eighty to Albany of whose arryvall we have Lad en ao-
compt & are raising as many more as will make our number well
towards two hundred as we hope which will be ready for their
march as soon as we hear of the readines of the mashachusets &
plumouth forces to be much before them will advantage noth-
ing but hazard our men to the small pox now so rife at Albany.
we request you to supply our men with what is needful in pro-
vision as also with ammunition according to your Honts former
promise and our dependance thereon we are also sending a ves-
sel with provision for our souldicrs & to pay what we may have
borrowed for this expedition & are in all poyhts by Gods help

4 . . °
resolved to prosecute our intentions made known to-you in the .

mean tyme till our provisions arrive at Albany we request you to
supply our men with what is needful in provision &c. It will
be necessary that the 5 nations ayde & the tyme and the generall
maner of their readines be settled with them by your Hon'® meanes
and the same signified to Boston and hither, as much guiding

: ih cS 2 : é
| ae

a aecompt of. ata ag ‘they a are now ‘with us, “and ‘amongst ©
“matters have Proposed to endeavor to procure Major Gen!
_ trop &, comander in chiefe. for the forces who we feare is
[obtainable & we] also Propose v whether he will not be fitte:
comand in chiefe & we are fixtt upon ie as for, other great
- gbns, 50 partly because we think your Hon™ eye may be v
Capt., Milborne with whein our “souldiers | at. “Albany 7 we hear
& ours here are not well satisfied, ot ne, chiefe officer 1
be generally acceptable : as ‘well as otherwise, well “qualified ‘
Major ) untrop | eyther not attainable or; not. acceptable to }

ont ¥ e desire you will accept s some other, ‘person.’ whom the
argent may propose which if you, doe. we shall rest’ in it or
nH hans? some other the most, ‘considerable you bh

Oe ge

ter “Major, Me Pane may | be sof good i improve:

LS commander, if your Hont t ‘think him serviceab'
hay 8 ,your dispath by, sea. cag | Canada are |

‘to give our endeayours by. the lakes the, more c:

I pox g tt Into: ‘the | army, it will, “be. the * ‘disabling

3 bany, | therefore great care should be usc:

on should gett | head, we must consider how to

orces | agt our enemies by sea or otherwise as God shall «!

while they’ are clear of that distemper, . we desire you will p
_ the master of our vessel] with his provisions. & men your
conduct and directions up Hudsons river’ to “Albany as he

: ‘need or shall desire, we have not to add [anything more] &

wwe are your affectionate friends the Gov. & Council [& byl)

order ee , Ha one

p: Joun ALLYN, Secreta
- - (The P. 8. to the above ts faimbnt wholly destroyed: j

Po pany atl geld Ya th ee 2
- ae sak bese uals tf 6) rtp sinh & ark t ae
Ubvrieawvacnd | SHY, ALLYN' TO LEISLER.” oe
- ed highs erie eS ‘ wi yw

* Wartford May 28th 1!
/% Hoko2® Sa—Since our last coed but yesterday) we

* intelligence from Albany of very great sickness among the p:
and soldery, that near half our men are sick of = many |

| , i
es tA. tric tee a! $ 4 haar J I> “ig ‘ m Vitg s pret £
Kn

e é "

1423. Thomas Kindlon 2 New York Times 6/8/23 32:2 says iene
lvlsk Thomas Lester were executed for murderittg one John Juose In
| the course of rebbing hi's Candy store In Albany.
during the Summer of (92.2.

1923. © Key Smith. Execution not reported. But New York Times
5/12/22 7:2 carries account of crime. His
Full name was. Key Pendleton Smith. He was
ar American Indian who Stabbed his white wife

to death eft dt
thet he wae SA ug preg. it Boston on

1[21 (86.

1923. epee New Pe a fA AN sats We ag |
Who m S. Y
oFa ler WieBate 2a eo ee

1924. Arwtonio Viandante New York Times M(t (ad 23:5 saus he had Formerly
been a Seri¢ant of folice in Italy before coming to. Aen-

erica. Killed his wife b ed
unitate ved toon of Matias

14244. Albert Mastrotec News York Times 6/13/24 1S¢| Says he murdered
a | his uncle, Thomas Mastrota, at Richmond Hill hong
Island a. year anda. hal? previously.

1926: » Sam Wing. New Yorke Times 7/20/26 12:5 reports elaborate
Chihe'bwn Funeral fe i jualin Execution was
net ed. Murdered ariother Chinaman named
Som on 9/2/25 pursuant to a Tong vendetta.
Vichin was a laundeyman. Rival Tong were at funeral
and went unmolested M24 to Ton Custom.

1427. Giuseppe Frovenzano

New York Herald Tri 3/13|27 I!
Giusehe Friija ew York Herald Tribune 3/13(27 ere

murdeved James Lemarde of Rocheste

behestiof the victim's wife. She got twenty years.
She/and Provenzane duped Frii ja teeto sheeting Mr:

érmarde with a. promise that the woman would then

1927. William Wagner. New York Times Tis iay (9:2 says he Fatally shot
one Peter Basto because he irrterfered tn an angumert
: | her Was having with his |and lady's dauyhter. He was
2\ Years old and an ethnic German. He saidthat

real name tn order to Spare. his family from shame.

(927. Charles Albreehf. Execution not reported . But New York Times tl 6:6
| aia e throat
lady's dauyltter.

Mentions hin. He Was Condemned for cies
of Seven year old Verbnica Dempsey, his |

: ec’ Was & onym and thet he would netdivulae
Wi pseudonyn :

“a

1938. Felix Cummin NewYork Times 8[12/38 8:4 Says they were
George hewi aged 28and 26 respectively fap gunning down 4
waiter named Ralph Nische during a Brooklyn
| vestauront sticku on 1/7/36. “They were

also under indictment for murdering one Julius
Davidson during a gin mill heist:

1939. Everett McDonald. New York Times 12/22/39 20:2, Says he was

a 4| uear old Whife Plains pare Who shet a man
nam George Bertie in NYC.

I941. Major Greenfield. . €xecution not reported. But New York Times

(226/39 (:4 and 12/27/34 42:1 carry account

of crime and arrest of the Killer. Vietim was 44
ear old Vincent Cangro, a numbers man inthe

old Dutch Schulte. mob. Greenfield was a 34

ear old negro janitor. Killiva was originally
te be a mob hit. But Greenfield
Confessecl that vichn came his apartment drunk
where they uarreled over a nearo Woman and
th the course of whith aryume Greentield
Savagely murdered vietiin by blungeoning and

Strona him. Then dumped bedy in a tield
+o ma aa look lie a gaigster dump job.

(4440. Anselmo Abreu. (Case: nat nnentioned by New York Papers.
IN440. James Pryor New York Times 7/2/40 1:3 says he was 4
pro he who murdered one Malcolm Renier during
& Manhatun holdup.
(941. Norman es New York: Tames 2(°7/44L 14:2. Sans that
Eugene Brow Were din “a3 and 2b aol
Their cFtine we the holdup Shying 6 a Manhattan
grocer named Juan Delgado.
L441. Dewey Gare ras New York Times T/U/4) (7:5 he was a 2
een ma negro who we down “pum saad
| [bert Fields in a NYC gin mill stickup. |

(442... [sane Ri omy hang New York Times 1/9/42 3:6 says he was a 28
old ney who gunned down a. Woman named
na Gro durion Manhattan hold up.

Cau Herbert Lewis. Case not mentioned by New York papers.

1921... George Ricei New York Times {216/27 @*3. Says he was aged 31
- and had Killed his ex-bess, Frank Scavullo of Brosklyn.

Crime committed 4/26(27. Shot victim because he sus-
pected his courtesiesto his wife.
192.9. John Fabri Execution not reported. But New vend a ds g a
: 263 reports Fittile Clemency hear ot ae
| : se and Shet his life a friend Frank 1k Mangine
a drunken row.

situate eit 4:3 sous he was age 27
and murdered a fellow prisoner a Joseph R. Klune.

Ton. New dork nes Times 9/2/31 (+ reports Clemenc
hearing, Actual execution het carried. He shotdown
Policeman Charles Wedig during aNYC holdup. His
accomplice., William Dawis, had his sentence. Aautted

1932. John Dawson. / NewYork Times b/10/32 10:5 says he was a 35
Year old ro who killed ancther egro named Eli
Houston. e atcomplice named Rose Brown

pe ry Comm ected .

1932. George 1 ris. New York Times tie [e2 Aes 3 says his Taal riaene
was Leon Blecharsky. He gunned d down f

Officer Fatriek Mifedell dufing a NYC Wey

1933. Charles Ba New York tines 13/33 36:5 says they were
Thomas ter $ both 19 Sil gy rieeees who killed a Bronx
Qrocecd hel New York Herald Tribune
: fe Se Lb: . ives victim's name as Solomon
AtKatz. Another 19 negro accomplice named
Cornelius Jamieson had his Sentence Commuted on
execution eve. Crime Committed on (/26/32.

be Harry hip

L431. Maurice

1933. Alex Kasprzcak 2 New York Herald Tribune 4/21/33 32:3 sa

Bruno Po aes they were Vesidents of Ni alls who aifired
. Kasprzcak's uncle, Joh n Rasprzcak foe th foe the
sake of his life insurance.

@ Police Officer James R. win during a
bozatt nan Sniper rob 2(15/33. Accomplice Miguel
An ut ob on ett

1433. Nathaniel Covington. Executi notreported. But New Y \/io/33 4:3
ia rors fl eomickion. Sa Sen Abb Fact rege ©
on os 2131 gang other b

cornered inabnat ime od Ch an Lo ) afe Ai hey a

Haeiot fare ANWal West \I1th St. Manhattan), where

1933. John MeKinney » New York Times. 9/1/33. T!5 says he was negro
42 year old native of Arli Va. His crime
, was the brick bashing murder of a negro
woman named Mattic West. He spent onl
four months and one week on death row u
till then the Shortest tine on record in N.Y.

1934. Frank Canora. , New York Times 7/ ey 36'2 Says he was
| 5] year old nective of Hackensack New Jersey.
agen Murdered his estranged wife, Lena Canova,
: ot Sprihg Valley NY"in 2/33 because she spurned.

a reconésliation. Killed hee with buteher knife
and set her body on Five with gasol ine.

19435. | Frank Mitchell. New York Times 1/18/35 46:2, says he was a
% Po year old Manhattanife. who murdered a store-
yr _ named Louis Prinee durtias a NYC holdup
on 7(14(33.
1935. Giuseppe Leoni. Execution not an Buct New York Times 1/5/35
12.3 reports Futile

cle hearing. Says that h
| murdered his daughter, Mrs. Anna Ro Nate ‘

(935. Jeff Broun 2°: New York Times 12(6/35 52 Says they were
Ferey Morris negroes aged 2! and 29 respectively. Murdered 52,
ese ortis Altman during 0. holdup of his
ilor Shop in Manhattan.

1936. Nick Buckyifch..... NewYork Tames Mfa4/3e 16:8 ae
est alee a aa

ichael George -for the sake of his life insurance.

1937. Chester White. Execution net reported. But New York Times
- 12(2(36 12:3 reports affirmation of deccth
wine Sentence by State ab Court. Says he
, Killed 16 year old ig named Willie Mae Howard
e heed with a hammer.

by bashiing her, on

2:5 carries account of trial conviction. He was 4
33 year old Chinaman whe on (1/24/35 robbed
and murdered ancther Chinaman named Yip Chow

: in the vichim's home. Four thugs participated th the
one bict onty Chew Wing was identified.
1938. Terreneé Roberts. Execution not reported. But New York Times 5/21|38
30:2 veports clem fae He gunned down one
Harold CPF during a NYC holdup:

1937. Chew Wing. | Execution net: reported. But New York Times \/5(37

[ 124 ] THOMAS M. MCDADE

One indispensable actor in the fateful drama of a murder case was
the clergyman who usually appeared on the scene after the prisoner’s
condemnation, heard his confession, and exhorted him to repentence.
Then, shortly after the execution a pamphlet would appear in which
the minister bared to the public all the feelings, remarks, and de-
meanor of the prisoner. The Reverend John Stanford, a Baptist minis-
ter who came from England in 178s, now took up the role with poor
Johnson. Stanford had had a church in the city which had been de-
stroved by fire in 1801 and thereafter preached at different churches.
In 1812 he was appointed chaplain to the state prison in New York
City and thereby had ready access to condemned prisoners.

Christian Brown may have had some arrangement with the minis-
ter whose name appears on the title page of several of Brown’s pam-
phlets. His story of his conversations with the unfortunate prisoner

appeared in Brown’s publication which bore the usual fulsome title of
the times:

A TRUE ACCOUNT OF THE Confessions, and Contra Confes-
sions of JOHN JOHNSON, Who was Executed on Friday,
the 2d of April, FoR THE \fURDER OF JAMES MURRAY,
Taken During His Confinement, By the Rev. JOHN sTANFORD
A.M. and by him delivered to the Turnkeys of the City Pris-
on. TO WHICH ARE ADDED, JOHNSON’S FAREWELL LETTER TO
HIS FAMILY, AND OTHER PARTICULARS. ALSO, HIS LAST DYING
SPEECH.

Stanford states that it was not his custom to call upon prisoners
charged with capital crimes until they had been convicted, but as
Johnson had confessed he felt it would not be necessary to wait. Dur-
ing the many visits the minister made, Johnson told several different
stories of the crime although the first has more the ring of truth than
later versions. According to Johnson, Murray had no change to pay
the cartman and Johnson gave the fare. Then after Murray retired.
Johnson who had not been paid for the lodging supposed that he had
no money and that he would not pay his reckoning. After Murray went
to sleep, Johnson felt in his clothes for money and found the keys to his
chest. Opening the chest he saw the bags of money and “All in a mo-
ment, the devil got into my heart, and told me to kill the man, and take
the money for myself; though I am sure I did not want it”

z ae.

<F"

Te ee er ee ae

Christian Brown Tos]

In later versions Johnson claimed he was drunk at the time and in
one story placed the whole crime on a boarder named Jerry who had
been in the house but who had left that night. The minister paid little
heed to these tales but tried to direct his thoughts to God and the
hereafter. Johnson, while frequently contrite, was more concerned
with earthly affairs than the future life. “I was alone with Johnson for
some time, writes the minister, “and took the favourable opportunity
to address him in a pointed and solemn manner on his awful situation.
It did not produce the feeling I wished; and he attempted to divert
the subject to the concerns of his own family.’ And two days later he
reports again, “Made two visits to Johnson, in the course of the morn-
ing. On the first, his mind was so full on the concerns of his family.
little could be introduced?’

Johnson’s concerns for his family were natural and real. His wife
and daughter Mary had been arrested at the same time as he and
were held until the grand jury decided not to charge either as a party
to the crime. They had then returned to the farm they had in New-
burgh, and a short time before his execution, Johnson received a letter
from his daughter, parts of which were apparently dictated by his
wife. Despite the impending tragedy of the forthcoming execution
the family’s life had gone on.

“Dear husband; she wrote, “I have got all the fields that is under
crop, sowed with clover and timothy seed. We have got all the head
of the hill between us and Mr. Hasbrook and us. We have got the
stones dragged and made the fence up ourselves, and we have got 3
plough at 7 dollars as I mentioned to you before. The Barn will be up
upon Monday next, the cattle is all well” At this juncture in the letter.
Mary, the seventeen-vear-old daughter, broke in with her own thougk«.
“The people say that come up from New York, that you are going to
write your life, but dear father there are more writing going than vou
could think of. I hope God will have a little more guide in your hand
than for to let you write anything about your life. It is bad enough
now, dont let them have any speech nor any life to have printed in
books when vou are dead. And you have so much printed now it would
take half a day for to read it? If Johnson had been thinking of selling
the story of his life to the press, he thought better of it; it remained for
Mr. Stanford to fill that role.

[ 126 ] THOMAS M. MCDADE

Johnson puzzled the people who saw him by his unconcern for him-
self, his contradictory tales, and his complete lack of any feeling of
contrition. The last night in jail he asked the doctor “for some draught
that would exhiliarate him, and render him brave, fearless and totally
insensible to danger” but it was refused. At the same time he greeted
Rev. Mr. Stanford with complete unconcern, “Well, Old Dad, don’t
vou think I stand it very well!” And on the fatal morning his spirits
had in no way diminished as he addressed the sheriff who had the
unpleasant task of hanging him, “Mr. Wendover, I hope you won't
have this job to do over again—vou are too feeling a man!”

The crowds began to assemble in City Hall Park at an early hour;
by twelve o’clock the whole of Broadway from Murray Street to Canal
Street and half of the park were jammed with people. The entire police
force augmented by seventy-five special constables was on duty, and
the troops to be part of the procession paraded at nine o'clock. The
crowd was so great around the prison that it took the military an hour
to get to the gate of the prison vard where Johnson, dressed in the
usual execution robe of white edged with black and a cap of the same,
sat with the rope already around his neck, waiting for his guard to
lead the parade to the scaffold.

The sheriff had tried to keep the place of execution a secret until
the morning, but many had seen the construction of the scaffold which
was moved by boat to the farm of Peter Stuyvesant and erected near
the corner of 13th Street and Second Avenue. The order of the proces-
sion followed the prescribed custom of the day. Cavalry formed the
outer sides of an enclosed square, with a line of infantry enclosing the
principals within. A band followed the front line of foot soldiers, next
came a wagon bearing Johnson and his coffin and two clergymen, fol-
lowed by police, sheriff, and coroner. Due to the great crowd, it took
the procession an hour to cover the distance of about a mile, and,
arriving at the scaffold, Johnson took a seat on the lower steps while
the two ministers, possessed of an audience vastly greater than had
ever attended their remarks before, offered prayers for the indifferent
Johnson who had repeatedly requested that no address be made by
the clergy.

Johnson now ascended the scaffold with the sheriff and within a
few minutes the rope had been secured, and he had been dropped

ERC eee

— Christian Brown [2-7

= through the trap where he expired without a struggle. Having sur-

rendered his life, the unfortunate man had still not paid his full debt
to society. His sentence had included the instruction that his body be
delivered to the surgeons for dissection, and having hung for three-
quarters of an hour, it was rushed to the College of Physicians and
Surgeons before it had become rigid or cold. There a trio of surgeons
awaited the golden opportunity of repeating some experiments which
had been made in Europe “to ascertain the power of galvanism upon
the nerves and muscles after death” A powerful battery was wired ‘o
the corpse and the results were deemed “eminently successful” “The
arms, legs, and body, the muscles of the face and neck, were strong.
excited and thrown into convulsive motion—the heart also was made
to contract; and a nervous twitching of the mouth, which was re-
marked in the man while living, recurred on the application of the
charged wire’ And with this macabre vision, which might have come
out of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein published only six years before, we
can take leave of Johnson.

Who was this printer with a penchant for reporting murder? I want-
ed to know more about him. I found him readily enough in the New
York City directory for 1824—“Brown, Christian, bookbinder, 205
Water Street?” The next vear he had moved to 211 Water Street and
there he stayed until 1835. Year by year I followed his movements
about the city, and when I was done I was staggered by what I had
found. What my notes told me was that Brown first appeared in the
city directory in 1801 at 70 Water Street, and the last entry to bear
that name was in 1867 at 147 Hester Street. Sixty-seven years! Was
this one man or a dynasty?

Slowly I went about extracting the facts from the tangled, scattered
records of census and vital statistics. When Brown first appeared in
the directory in 1801 as “bookbinder, 70 Water Street,’ he was twenty
years old and recently married. Living with him and his wife Sarah
were a number of younger brothers and sisters. His first child, Valen-
tine, was born in November 1801 and christened the following year at
the John Street Methodist Episcopal Church. In 1802 he made his
first venture into publishing with a small duodecimo volume of Daniel
Defoe’s The Voyages, travels and surprising adventures of Captain
Robert Singleton. . . . The title page of this work says it was “Printed

~ = ——

——

The murder of James Murray, woodcut from Brown’s pamphlet.
THE NEW-YORK HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

where he left it. Almost immediately the awfulness of his deed began
to assail him; unable to sleep in his own bed where the deed had hoon
committed, he went to the room of his seventeen-year-old daughter
Marv. Still unable to sleep, he woke her and revealed the whole affair
This strong-minded young girl, determined to protect her Phas
cleaned up the house, hid the victim’s clothes, and gave the money a
her brother to throw in the river, This task proved too much for aS
he took it to Brooklyn where he buried it in the sand and where it as
found a few days later by the police.
In the meantime the crime had received an enormous press. When
Murray was buried from a house on Broadway and Anthony Street
over three thousand persons watched the procession, which was led by
Mr. Powers and extended half a mile down to Prince Street.
. It was nearly three months before Johnson’s trial, but once it began
it moved to its conclusion with uninterrupted dispatch, as trials ofthe
period did. The prisoner entered the courtroom at eleven o'clock
through the great crowds that had lined the streets since an earlv hour

to view him on the trip from the jail to City Hall. It was not until half

past three, however, that a jurv was selected and the opening ad-

THOMAS M. MCDADE

= Christian Brown [123 ]

dresses began. Johnson was represented by two attorneys, a Dr.
Graham and a Mr. Price, but there was little they could do with the
evidence of the nineteen witnesses called by the prosecution. For the
times, the evidence and argument have a distinctly modern ring.
One of the medical witnesses produced a cast of the murdered man's
head, the better to describe the wound. A police officer produced a
plan of the room in Johnson’s house, and one of the jurymen observed
that he had built it.

When Mr. Maxwell, the prosecutor, moved to introduce the state-

ment which Johnson had made before Magistrate Hopson, there were
objections to its use. Hopson first testified that he had “cautioned the
prisoner, and told him that he need make no disclosure that would
criminate himself” Dr. Graham then asked if he had told Johnson
that he had a right to counsel. The Magistrate said he had not, and
Graham contended that “no examination can be legal unless the
prisoner be specially told he has a right to counsel.” The defendant lost
this point,* and after Johnson’s confession to the Magistrate was read.
the prosecution concluded its case.
‘ There was very little Johnson’s attorneys could do for him. At this
time (and until 1869) the defendant could not testify on his own be-
half under the old practice of not permitting parties to be witnesses.
His lawyer was reduced to calling seven character witnesses and then
in his closing remarks “labored earnestly and ingeniously to show that
he might be innocent notwithstanding his confession, and all the cir-
cumstances, which he admitted were strongly against him? When Dr.
Graham sat down it was past midnight, but the practice of the period
was to conclude, if humanly possible, all the proceedings at one sit-
ting. His associate Price followed him, then the prosecutor, and
finally the judge made his charge. It was just past two o'clock in the
morning when the jury retired, and, in view of the lateness of the
hour, it is not surprising that they were back in ten minutes with a
verdict of guilty. Two davs later Johnson was sentenced to be hanged
—in just two weeks time—on April 2nd. If the law dawdled in some of
its tasks execution was not one of them.

3In June 1966, the U.S. Supreme Court specifically ruled that this must be done.

This was 142 years too late for Johnson, however. Miranda v. Arizona 384 U.S. 43. 16
L ed., 2d 694 (1966).

Bi
[ 120 ] THOMAS M. MCDADE

ting his heinous crime, and unlike many of the woodcuts used by
printers of the period, it was obviously designed and cut solely for this
publication rather than a stock cut used on any similar occasion.

The Johnson-Newman case was hardly one to excite the attention
of the genuine murder fancier. The deed grew out of the lady’s re-
fusal to marry Johnson, though one could hardly cite it as a case of
frustrated love as she had already borne one child by him. It was not
until I had seen a dozen other products of the little printer on Water
Street that I realized I had stumbled on a neglected publisher of early
New York who was also a fellow connoisseur of murder. :

Christian Brown’s great contribution to the literature of crime be-
gan in 1824 with a publication on a case involving another Johnson:

THE Life and Confession of JOHN JOHNSON, tHe MUR-
DERER Of James Murray, TOGETHER WITH SOME PARTICU-
LARS OF HIS FAMILY, NOT GENERALLY KNOWN.2

The Johnson case was the sensation of the day in New York, and five
other publishers including those in Trenton and Philadelphia vied to
lay the story before the public.

On the night of November 20, 1823, Charles Miller, one of the city’s
night watch patrolling his beat in lower Manhattan, came upon the
vody of a man in Cuyler’s Alley. It was clad only in a red flannel shirt:
. pair of drawers wrapped about the head covered a deep wound
‘aused by an axe. At the approach of the watchman, several rats fled
rom the body; the toes showed signs of their voraciousness. The body
vas removed to the almshouse in City Hall Park, and there it was on
lisplay the whole of Sunday the 22nd in hopes that someone would
ecognize it. Finding of unidentified dead on the streets of New York
vas no novelty at this period; the death registers show from twentv-
‘ve to thirty unidentified dead being buried each month in the pot-
ers field of the city. Because of the atrocious character of the murder
ie mayor offered a reward of one hundred dollars for information
-ading to the conviction of the slayer.

The body was recognized by the Rev. Mr. Powers, a minister on
-hom the deceased had called a couple of days before. The dead man

a appeared under the imprint “Brown & Tyrell”: Tyrell was possibly Brown’s
n-in-law, : ; ;

Ma ert
‘ ae:

Christian Brown | 121 |

was James Murray, aged thirty-six, who had arrived in New York on
the sloop Fulton from Boston, on the 17th, where he had been em-
ployed in a foundry. He had left the vessel on the 1gth accompanied
by a man whose description tallied with that of a John Johnson who
kept a rooming house for sailors at 65 Front Street.

Johnson was questioned at police headquarters but denied that
Murray had been at his house, which the police then searched, and,
although they found a bloodstained sheet, they returned to headquar-
ters without Johnson. By the next day, however, the police had found
a cartman who had moved Murray’s trunk from the ship to Johnson’s
house where it was found under Johnson’s bed. A more careful search
revealed bloodstains on the headboard of the bed and the victim’s
clothes hidden behind a pile of wood in the yard.

Johnson was then taken into custody, first being taken to view the
body of the deceased. Undoubtedly, this was part of the process of
conditioning him to confess. Jacob Hayes, the officer with Johnson,
asked him to touch the corpse and the prisoner laid his hand on the
face. Hayes did this though he professed to have no faith in the legend
that if the murderer touched the body “it would bleed afresh?

Brought before Magistrate Hopson, Johnson was visibly agitated,
fell on his knees, and said that he would tell all about it. He told how
he met Murray at the Coffee House Slip, and, when asked if he were
an Irishman, said he was born there. ( This was strictly true, but John-
son’s father was an English soldier who had fed to Ireland to avoid
arrest.) Murray was en route to New Orleans and decided to spend a
few days at Johnson’s when the boardinghouse keeper said a couple
of his boarders were going south.

Murray brought his chest from the ship, and, when they finally
prepared to bed down at Johnson’s for the night, Murray was uneasy
about leaving the trunk out of his sight as he had a sum of money in it.
It was therefore put in Johnson’s own room where Murray went to
bed. When Murray was fast asleep, Johnson opened the chest with
some keys he had and removed two bags containing about five hun-
dred silver dollars. At this point, he said, he decided to murder the
sleeping man which he proceeded to do with two blows on the head
from a hatchet. To avoid tracks of blood in the house, he tied a pair
of drawers around his victim’s head and carried the corpse to the cellar

[ 128 ]

THOMAS M. MCDADE

for Christian Brown, No. 70 Water-Street?” It is quite possible that it
was a venture in which each of several publishers had his own title
page put in the volume. It contained an interesting plate showing two
men shooting crocodiles engraved by Alexander Anderson who may
later have contributed some woodcuts to Brown’s murder pamphlets.
A second work of which he was a co-publisher that same year was
A Treatise of the Materica Medica by William Cullen, where his name
is the last of nine New York City publishers listed on the title page.

The following year he published an edition of Oliver Goldsmith’s
The Vicar of Wakefield, and he also entered the educational field with
a New England primer and a volume, Book-keeping, in the true
Italian form of debtor and creditor by way of double entry... . All of
this was highly respectable, proper, and sedate; nothing to give an
inkling of the lurid literature to come. In 1804 a son, Christian Brown,
Jr., was born, and in the same year a book of jokes Funny Stories: or
the American Jester appeared under his imprint. At about this time
Brown began a period of peregrination, moving his premises almost
yearly from one address to another at the lower end of Manhattan.
He was at various times on Murray, Beaver, Pearl, Nassau, and Frank-
fort Streets and finally settled down at 211 Water Street in 1824 where
he endured for a dozen years. Never does he glorify himself with the
title of publisher; his basic trade was “bookbinder” and sometimes he
added after this “seller” But his minor publishing venture continued:
in 1809, a sheaf of songs; in 1815, a broadside ballad The Hunters
of Kentucky. But the practical matter-of-fact man keeps breaking
through. In 1818 he published The Ready Reckoner, for timber and
board measurement, and in 1820 crime seems very far away when his
name appears on The Psalms and Hymns, with the Catechism, Con-
fession of Faith and Liturgy, of the Reformed Dutch Church in North
America. If he is not very successful, he is respectable, and a collection
of “modern” songs under the title The Blackbird does not lessen his
standing.

Up to this point his mixed bag of publications was representative
of the small-time publisher whose major work is bookbinding. But in
1824 the James Murray murder occurred in New York City, and a rash
of pamphlets appeared about the case; included in the lot were two
by Brown. Actually one of these first efforts was published under the

A EO TE cote

Christian Brown [ 129 ]
imprint of “Brown & Tyrell” Robert Tyrell, a printer, may have been
Brown's son-in-law. Only one publication appeared with that name.
but as late as 1850 Robert Tyrell, aged fifty-two, and his wife Henrietta,
aged forty-three, were living in the same house on Chrystie Street with
Christian Brown, Jr. The Johnson pamphlet must have been an instant
success for rarely again did he publish songs, primers, or fiction. Crime
became his métier and human gore his stock-in-trade.

With a solid success of two separate printings of pamphlets on the
Johnson case, Brown turned to another current murder trial, that of
Joshua Barney, second mate of the schooner Blue-eyed Mary. Bamev
had skewered one of his fellow crewmen with a sword: he was acrjuit-
ted on the grounds of self-defense. In the same month, June 1524.
Thomas Jones was convicted and hanged on Ellis Island for a murder
ona ship six years before. Brown’s pamphlet on this case told the story
of the mutiny and murder of the officers of the brig Holkar, which was
taken to Santo Domingo and scuttled. Jones was foolish enough to
return to New York and was recognized on the streets six years after
the event.

It was a year before Brown found another homicide worthy oi his

publishing. As with his previous cases, it was of local interest. Juvenile

delinquency and street gangs are no new phenomena in New York. In
June of 1825 a man, David Lambert, was assaulted and killed by some
young rowdies known as the Spring Street Rangers. In the trial that
followed, seven were convicted of manslaughter, and Brown, in his
pamphlet on the case, wrote respecting the offense.

Here are seven lads, apprentices to mechanical trades, carousing, drink-
ing and fighting, at one o'clock in the morning, disturbing the public pace:
assailing peaceable travellers, and finally causing the death of a worthy
citizen. These things were not so in former times, and from the frequency
of these broils, it becomes necessary to inquire into the causes, and produce
a radical reform of other measures.

Brown was not uncertain in his mind as to the cause of the violence.
He traced it “to the early neglect of parents, guardians and masters”
and charged that “if they take a proper interest in the concerns o7 the
youth entrusted to their care, and interpose their authority in time.
these riots and their unhappy consequences would be unknown” Ten
o'clock, said Brown, was the proper curfew:

[ 132 ] THOMAS M. MCDADE

liking—a drunken sailor named William Miller who had beaten a
young seaman senseless and then towed his body behind the boat.
Though sentenced to hang, Governor DeWitt Clinton commuted
Miller's sentence to life imprisonment. Then, in 1827 a double hanging
in New York City provided a pair of pamphlets; the first of these was
on Richard Johnson, that attractive work first referred to. Johnson
was hanged on Blackwell’s (now Welfare) Island on May 7, 1829, a
place which provided some refuge from the crowds that attended
hangings done on one of the citv’s streets. Executed at the same time
was Catherine Cashiere, a colored woman who, while intoxicated, had
stabbed another girl to death. It is not unlikely that Brown’s pamphlets
were hawked at the execution. a sort of program for those attending
the event. The usual price was twelve and one-half cents, which was
a bit or one-eighth of the old Spanish dollar.

In the hierarchy of villains, pirates would rate in the highest order.
Therefore, when a real pirate was taken as one might say at the city’s
doorstep and brought to trial in the city, the case was a natural for the
pamphleteers. On November gth, 1830, the brig Vineyard with Wil-
liam Thornby as captain. sailed from New Orleans bound for Phila-
delphia with a cargo of cotton, sugar, and molasses. Besides the Cap-
tain, there were on board the mate, William Roberts; six seamen,
Charles Gibbs, James Talbot, John Brownrigg, Aaron Church, Robert
Dawes, Henry Atwell; and the colored cook, Thomas Wansley. The
crew had all been recruited in the same boardinghouse in New
Orleans, though Gibbs, Church, and Dawes had shipped together
from Boston. All were in their middle twenties except Brownrigg, who
was over forty and had served in a ninety-gun British man-of-war, and
Dawes who was but eighteen. While the ship was loading in New
Orleans, Wansley had seen a number of kegs of silver coin being put
aboard. It later proved to be $54,000 in Mexican dollars being shipped
to Stephen Girard. Once at sea he told Gibbs of the money, and along
with Church and Atwell, they made plans for disposing of the Captain
and mate. Gibbs tried to induce Talbot and Brownrigg to join the plot
but they declined, Talbot refusing to believe there was money on
board.

On the night of the 23rd while the eighteen-year-old Dawes was at
the helm and Brownrigg was up in the shrouds working on one of the

Christian Brown 339]

sails, Wansley struck the Captain on the head and, joined by Gibbs.
the two threw him overboard. The cry from Thornby as he went over
the side brought the mate to the companionway to investigate; Atwell
and Church struck him on the head, knocking him down into the
cabin. Gibbs seized the binnacle light by which Dawes had been s*cer-
ing and descended to the cabin where the three beat the mate and,
dragging him on deck, threw him into the water. Twice the mate
called after them before he was heard no more. The youthful Dawes
was then told to call Talbot who was in the forecastle saving his prav-
ers. When Talbot arrived on deck he assumed it was his turn to die.
but he was assured no harm was meant him.

The pirates then divided the Captain's clothes and the kegs of
Mexican dollars, filling bags with silver coins from the kegs. A course
was set for Long Island with Dawes at the wheel and Gibbs, who knew
how to navigate, in command of the vessel. By Sunday, November
28th, they were off the Long Island coast where they planned to dis-
pose of the Vineyard. Here they took to the small boats after setting
fire to the cabin and scuttling the vessel. Gibbs took the longboat ac-
companied by Wansley, Brownrigg, and Dawes, while Atwell, Church.
and Talbot were in the jolly boat. The sea, however, was running very
high, and in attempting to reach the beach, the jolly boat foundered
and the three in it were lost. The longboat was also in danger and
could offer no assistance to the others whom they saw clinging to the
mast. Gibbs had them throw over a trunk of clothes and most of the
bags of coin to lighten the boat, and they were finally able to land on
Barren Island (a spit of land which now forms the lower point of
Floyd Bennett Air Field). On the beach Gibbs buried some clothes
and $5,000 in coin—all that had survived the ride through the surt.
Directed to the lone house on the island, the four spent the night with
its only occupant, a man named Johnson.

The next day Johnson took them in his boat to Gravesend where. at
Samuel Leonard's tavern, thev all had drinks, and Gibbs tried to hire
Leonard to drive them into the city. While this discussion was going
on, Brownrigg suddenly announced that he was not going any further
with murderers, and after he explained what had happened Gibbs and
Wansley were arrested. Taken to Flatbush, they were arraigned before
a magistrate, but the federal government quickly intervened in the

Make him retire early; rise early; eat sparingly; drink nothing but water:
watch his temper; correct him promptly and spiritedly; see that his educa-
tion and morals are not neglected; make him work, for that is the antidote to
vice; compel him to be civil, tractable and obedient: give no saucy answers;
use no insulting language; assume no ridiculous airs of independence; en-
courage him in nothing that may make him hateful or disliked —in short, let
parents and guardians do their duty.

[ 130 ] THOMAS M. MCDADE

While New York did not lack murders. only the more unusual ones
had the news value to justify Christian Brown in putting out a pam-
phlet, which in many cases reprinted newspaper accounts already
issued. When an illiterate stevedore, James Reynolds, was sentenced
to hang for killing Captain West, owner of a lighter, and sinking his
weighted body in the bay, Brown’s pamphlet was one of two pub-
lished on this short-lived case. For lack of better material that year he
reprinted an old broadside ballad Captain James and the next year,
1826, reported the trial and execution of William Hill, a slave who
helped murder the master of the vessel transporting him to New
Orleans. For the first time we find signs of either haste or economy in
Brown's pamphlet—the woodcut “portrait” of Hill was the same used
to depict Thomas Jones the vear before.

In 1827 there occurred a case in Albany, New York, which achieved
so much notoriety that Brown found it profitable to issue two separate
pamphlets on it. Jesse Strang and his paramour, Elsie Whipple, plot-
ted to murder her husband. At her urging Strang made several pur-
chases of poison, but finally used the simple method of shooting Mr.
Whipple through a window in his house, after experimenting to be
sure the glass would not deflect the bullet. Strang was hanged, but
Mrs. Whipple got off scot-free.t The title page of Brown’s pamphlet
has a crude but effective illustration of the crouching murderer firing
through the window at Whipple. The closeness of the community in
which this case occurred may be judged by the fact that Strang him-
self was a member of the coroner’s jury which found the murder “per-
petrated by person or persons unknown’’

It was not until a year later that Brown found another case to his

* Dr. Louis C. Jones, Director of the New York State Historical Association at Coopers-
town, has by his research preempted the Strang-Whipple affair. One awaits his written

report on this fascinating case.

eta sp oe

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a>
= OH! have yeu heard the news of late,
ve About a mighty king so great,
if you have not ’tis in ny pate,
es The kingof the Cannibal Islands,
He was so tall near six feet six,
He had a head hike Mister Nick’s,
His palace was like Diny Dick:s
"T'was built of mud for want of bricks,
@ @ = = And his name was Poonoowia-keewang,

Flibeedee flobeedee buskeebang,
2° Anda lot of Indians swore they'd hang,
f The King of the Cannibal Islands,
° ~ Hokee pokee wonkee fum,
Putiee po pee kabilu cum,
Tongaree, wonguree, ching, ring, wum,
&, ‘ The King of the Cannibal Islands.
This mighty king had in one hut,
. Seventy wives as black as soot,
- And thirty of a doubie smut,
The King of the Cannibal Islands ;
So just one hundred wives he had,
And every week he was a dad,
Upon my word it was tuo bad,
' For his smutty dears soon drove himmad; \
« There was Flungkee Mungkee short and tall,
; With Tuzzee Muzzee and Keeko Pall,
And some of them swore they would have all
The King of the Cannibal [stands
Hokee, pokee, &c.
One day this King invited most
All of his subjects to a roast,
For hai bis wives gave up the ghost,
The King of the Cannibal Islands ;
Of fifty wives he was bereft.
And so he had but fifly lett,
He said with tue he would make shift,
So tora gorge all set off swift,
The fifty dead oues were reasted soon,
And all demolish‘d before the noon,
And a lot of chiefs vow'd to have soon
The King of the Cannibal Islands.
Llokee, pukee, ke.
>< When they'd done, & the bones pick'd cern
They all began to dance i ween,

The fifty wives slipp‘d out unseen,

From the King of Cannibal Islands ;
He turning round soon miss‘d them ail,
So for his wives began to bawl;

But not one answered to his call,
He sprung out through the muddy walt ;
Then into the woods he went with grief,
And found each queen ‘ioag with a chief,
He swore he'd Macadainize every thief,
The King of the Cannibal [-tavds.
Hokee, pokes, Xc-.

He sent for all his guards with knives,
To put an end to ail their lives,
The tifty chiefs and fifty wives,

The King of the Canmbal Islands ;
These ‘‘annibal Siavevs then begun,
Carving thetr heads otf one by one,

And the King he laugied to see the fun,

And jumnt into bed when ali was done,
And every n cht when he's asleep,

His headiess wives and clvefs all creep,
And roll upon oun ina heap.

The Wing of the Cannibal Islands.

: Hokee, pokee, &c.

= —— oes

teturn, O my Love.

RETURN, O, any love, and we'll never, ner:
part,
While the moon her soit light shall shed ;
[Ili hold thee fast to oy virgin heart,
And my bosom sitall pillow thy head.

The breath of the woodbine is on my hip,
Tmpeuri'd in the dews of May ;
And uone but theu of its sweetness shall sip,

Or steal its honey away.
, Ne, no, never, 10,

Shall steal its heuney away. Return, &c.

CHORUS.

Yes, yes, and my besom sball nillew thy head.

Ss ‘Printed and evld whvlesais sadretul, by C. Brows, Ne. 912, Water, near Faiivs Sivect, New-¥

» Broadside ballad. THe ~Ew-vorK HISTORICAL SOCIETY.

[ 134} THOMAS M. MCDADE

person of the deputy United States marshal who carried the prisoners
off to New York where they were charged with murder on the high
seas.

Hopes for buried treasure are a hardy growth. In the New York C ity
Guide, prepared by the Works Progress Administration in 1939, a de-
scription of Barren Island and Gibbs’s burial of the money there added
that “legend has it that the treasure is stil] hidden there” They were
wrong of course. While Gibbs and Wansley were en route to New
York, representatives of the American Insurance Company and the
Ocean Company that had jointly insured the specie went to Barren
Island in the hope of locating the buried coin, but the magistrate’s
men had been there before them and the money was gone.

Even before his trial Gibbs called in one of the magistrates and gave
along and damning account of his life before his arrest. He first told a
story of having been with Captain Lawrence (of “Don’t give up the
ship” fame) during the ill-fated battle between the Chesapeake and
the Shannon when Lawrence was killed. After this romantic tale he
listed a long series of maraudings as a pirate in the Caribbean, claim-
ing he participated in attacks on a score of vessels and in the slaughter
of some four hundred crew members of these vessels. Despite the fact
that it was quickly proved that much of Gibbs’s story, including his
part in the battle of the C hesapeake, was a fabrication, his story had
caught the public imagination, and his confession was widely printed.
It was revealed, however, that his real name was not Gibbs but James
Jeffers and that he had come from Newport, Rhode Island. Just why
he confessed at all never seemed clear to those who listened to his
story.

Boston, notorious for the number of pirates hanged there, was sen-
sitive to the attribution of the vessel to that port. “The brig Vineyard
is called of Boston} reported the Boston Daily Evening Transcript,
“She was insured in this city, but the policy cancelled when the vessel
was sold,’ and then with a sniff of civic pride, “Her crew probably
consisted of transient seamen.”

On February 7th, 1831, Wansley was tried in the United States
District Court in New York Citv. Dawes and Brownrigg were the prin-
cipal witnesses and there was little the defense could do with their

stories. On cross-examination. Brownrigg admitted that the silver coin

eng
ihe ay

- an %
L7SS4

Christian Brown
had been divided into seven shares, one of which was his, but it was
apparent that he had to play the role of joining the pirates after the
murders if he wanted to survive himself. The jury took but twenty
minutes to decide that Wansley was guilty, and Gibbs met the same
fate the following day.

Custom had decreed that those to be executed for crimes on the
high seas, if not actually hanged on the vessel, were to be executed at
seaside, between the points of low and high tide. The execution of
Gibbs and Wansley took place on Ellis Island on April 22nd (this be-
ing federal property), and brought hundreds of small vessels to the
shore of that island to watch the gala event. The prisoners had been
escorted by a company of marines from the Brooklyn Navy Yard and
were jauntily attired for the occasion. Gibbs was dressed in a blue
roundabout jacket with a white anchor embroidered on the left sleeve.
blue “trowsers”’ and white cap. Wansley wore a white linen frock coat.
white trousers and cap, all trimmed with black ribbon, a custom used
in some executions at the time. A new mechanical scaffold had been
built which in contrast to the customary device jerked the prisoners
upward instead of dropping them from a height. Christian Brown has
left with us a description of this machine.

The scaffold was erected to a height of about 13 feet from the earth. Two
ropes of about one inch in diameter were passed through pullies. «hich
were placed —one in each extreme end of the top beam. To one end of each
of these ropes was affixed. five fifty-six pounds weight; the other ends were
tied together, and the knot which bound them was placed on a block be-
tween the two outward stakes. From the centre of the large rope a piece of
rope of about five-eighths of an inch in diameter, of sufficient length to form
a noose, was suspended.

At eleven-thirty the two prisoners were brought out of the fort and
placed under the gallows with the ropes about their necks. Gibbs
made a short speech of repentance and admitted he had shed the
blood of many of his fellow men but did not go into particulars. When
he had finished, Wansley requested one of the clergymen to sing a
psalm and Wansleyv joined him in it following this with a short speech
of his own. It had been arranged that Gibbs would give the signal by
dropping a handkerchief. When he did. the deputy marshal with a

Metadata

Containers:: Box 28 (2-Documentation of Executions), Folder 14
Resource Type:: Document
Description:: Edward Palmer executed on 1777-08-07 in New York (NY) Hart James executed on 1778-05-15 in New York (NY) Shaver Daniel executed on 1778-05-15 in New York (NY) Miller Charles executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) Dicke David executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) Essmond James executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) Ferguson Robert executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) Galer Christopher executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) executed on 1778-06-05 in New York (NY) Joseph Bettys executed on 1782-04-01 in New York (NY) Noah Gardner executed on 1796 in New York (NY) John Thompson executed on 1796-11-10 in New York (NY) Benjamin Holmes executed on 1800 in New York (NY) Guss executed on 1791-08-26 in New York (NY) Joel White executed on 1793 in New York (NY) John Andrews executed on 1811-09-06 in New York (NY) Dick executed on 1719-09-05 in New York (NY) Daniel Connor executed on 1774-04-20 in New York (NY) Simon Mable executed on 1777-04-20 in New York (NY) James McCaffity executed on 1777-04-20 in New York (NY) John Williams executed on 1777-05-09 in New York (NY) John Murray executed on 1777-07-01 in New York (NY) Amos Rose executed on 1777-08-08 in New York (NY) Barnet executed on 1778-06 in New York (NY) Haggerty executed on 1778-06 in New York (NY) Thomas Lovelace executed on 1782-04-01 in New York (NY)
Rights:: In Copyright - Educational Use Permitted
Date Uploaded:: July 2, 2019

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