Murder of An Italian

New York, 1895

An Innocent Man Shot During a Fight in a Shanty.

A murder occurred on the Long Island railroad dock, in Long Island City, Thursday morning. A number of the Italians lived in a shanty on the dock. A row was started when Antonio Rollo wanted to go to sleep. Rollo put out the oil torch which furnished light in the shanty and Nicolo Pierre objected.

A fight ensued, during which pieces of iron were used as weapons. The belligerents were finally separated by their comrades and when quiet was restored the laborers all retired. At daybreak hostilities were renewed to such an extent between Rollo and Pierre that the other Italians took sides. Rollo was getting the worst of the fight, when his godfather and cousin, Tony Pierre, threw his arms around Rollo to save him from the blows rained upon him by Pierre. Rocco Pierre handed his cousin, Nicolo, a revolver. The latter, with an oath, aimed the pistol at his antagonist, Rollo, and pulled the trigger. Tony Pierre, the cousin of Antonio Rollo, fell to the floor unconscious. Nicolo, instead of shooting Antonio, had shot the godfather.

The bullet struck the man in the forehead over the left eye and went out the back of his head. The man was removed to St. John's hospital, where he died at 10 A. M.

Immediately after the shooting Nicolo Pierre and his cousin, Rocco, who gave him the revolver, ran across the meadows and made their escape.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, March 15, 1895, p. 8.

Contempt Worse Than Crime

1895

An Australian Judge and How He Maintained the Dignity of His Court.

The stories of early Australian judges are numerous and incredible. The following incident, which is vouched for as a fact, is of a judge who had a very lofty idea of his own legal capacity and was, at the same time, anxious to sustain the dignity of his court. A "shooting case" came before him. There was no direct evidence as to the perpetrator of the murder, but the individual arrested was well known and indeed confessed the deed.

When brought into court, the judge cautioned the prisoner that he must remember his rights as a free citizen, and that, above all things, he must not interrupt the proceedings of the court. After this friendly warning the judge proceeded to state that he (the prisoner) was accused of having on such a date shot the deceased.

Upon this the prisoner broke in, "Well, and so I did."

The judge was annoyed at the interruption.

"Hold your tongue, sir!" he exclaimed. "Haven't I told you not to commit yourself nor interrupt me? I shall commit you for contempt of court if you do so again!" he added sternly.

He then repeated the accusation, upon which the prisoner broke in:

"I have told ye afore that I killed" —

The judge's indignation was intense at this second interruption, and he demanded, "Mr. Sheriff, what is your evidence?"

I have nothing but circumstantial evidence, your honor, and the prisoner's own confession."

"Then," said the judge, "I discharge the prisoner on this accusation, but commit him for contempt of court." — Pittsburg Dispatch.

Encouragement

1895

"Swiggles' books are very well spoken of, are they not?" asked the timid looking man.
"Yes, sir," replied the bookseller. "Some of the critics praise them highly."
"And I suppose there will be a pretty active demand for them in time?"
"Oh, yes, " said the dealer. "After Swiggles is dead everybody will be wanting to read them."
The timid looking man went softly away. He was Swiggles. — Chicago Tribune.


"We Call It the Gym"

The Vassar girl was home on a visit.
"Dorothy," queried Aunt Minerva in a tone freighted with earnest purpose, "which do you say at Vassar — 'gymnaysium' or 'gymnawsium?' "
And Dorothy promptly answered, "We call it the gym. " — Philadelphia Times.


Murder Will Out

The maxim, "Murder will out," is disproved by statistics. In the ten years ending with 1886 there were 1,766 murders committed in England and Wales, and in 1,094 of these cases no trace of the criminal was ever found that led to his apprehension


Scorpions

In many tropical countries the scorpion grows to the length of a foot.

Attempted Murder At The Piggery

New York, 1895

Frederick Glushing, who keeps a piggery at Woodhaven, ran into Justice Lott's house Friday evening shouting "Murder." Gushling was but partly dressed and wore no shoes. He had run a mile and was nearly frozen. He told the justice that a man who was employed by him had been assaulted by three men, one of whom was about to blow the old man's head off with a gun when he started for the justice.

Judge Lott summoned Town Clerk McCook, and went to the scene of the assault. The Italian's home was a complete wreck. The old man, who lived alone, was found lying more dead than alive in a corner. He said he had been assaulted by Jacob Mykert, David Klein, and a man called Tony. Two of the men were arrested, but Tony could not be found. Justice Lott discharged Klein and sent Mykert to jail for six months.

—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, N.Y., Jan. 11, 1895, p. 12.

Eugene Leroy Sought as Slayer of His Wife

1920

Arrest of Man in Mexico Seems to Solve Trunk Mystery.

DETROIT, Michigan. — Eugene Leroy, sought as the slayer of Katherine Jackson Leroy, whose mutilated body was shipped from Detroit to New York in a trunk June 10, and Oscar J. Fernandez are the same person. Twelve persons who knew Leroy here positively identified pictures of Fernandez received from San Antonio, Texas, as those of the man they knew.

Among those who identified the pictures were Patrolman Trumbull and his wife and the Pfister couple, and with whom the Leroys lived here.

The man known as Leroy is being sought on a charge of first-degree murder. These steps followed a dispatch from New York that Mrs. Leo Trumbull, wife of a Detroit policeman, had identified the body as that of the woman she had known as "Mrs. Eugene Leroy."

A warrant was immediately issued here for the arrest of "Eugene Leroy, alias O. J. Wood, alias O. J. Fernandez," for first-degree murder.

Then, via San Antonio, came word that Oscar J. Fernandez, believed to be Leroy, was under arrest at Saltillo, state of Coahuila, Mexico. Steps have been taken to extradite him.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Aug. 7, 1920, p. 2.

Mrs. Gilligan Indicted for Murder

1916

Hartford, Ct., Sept. 21. — Mrs. Amy E. Archer Gilligan, charged with poisoning five inmates of her home for elderly people at Windsor, was indicted for first degree murder on five counts by the grand jury late today.

Benedict M. Holden, counsel for Mrs. Gilligan, announced that he was not ready to proceed with the trial and Judge Shumway ordered the case continued to the December term of the superior court. Mrs. Gilligan pleaded not guilty and was remanded to the county jail without bonds.

Mrs. Gilligan was arrested on May 7 last, specially charged with the murder of Franklin R. Andrews, whose body had been secretly exhumed. Since that time four other bodies, including the second husband of the accused have been exhumed.

Most of the inmates were admitted to the home, the state claims, after contracts had been signed providing for life care upon payment of $1000.

Dilworth Family Tagged By Murder

1916

NEW YORK LAWYER FIFTH IN LINE TO BE SLAIN.

Mother of Man Murdered in East Tells of the Series of Violent Deaths.

KANSAS CITY, Missouri — The murder of Dwight P. Dilworth, a New York lawyer, formerly of this city, while driving his motor car thru Van Cortlandt Park in New York City, is the last of a series of five murders in the Dilworth family that began in Civil War times. All of the deaths have been caused by assassins. Three of the murdered men were uncles of Dilworth and the other his father.

Mrs. William P. Dilworth, mother of the man murdered in New York told about the hand of fate that has pursued her husband's family and that has almost wiped out the masculine line of the family. Mrs. Dilworth has been visiting her sister, Mrs. Chas. Clark of this city.

"It began during the Civil War," Mrs. Dilworth said, "when George Dilworth, a lieutenant in the Federal Army, was shot by a 'sniper' while he was delivering a message. He had never been injured in battle, and the war was then about over. He was killed while on a mission of peace. We never learned who killed him. That was the first of the series of fatalities that nearly wiped out my husband's family.

"James Dilworth, a ranchman in Montana, was the next to die. He had upbraided one of his cowboys for failing to cut some hay, and that night the cowboy half crazed with liquor, waited for James and killed him. Thomas Dilworth walked into a hotel at Fort Scott, Kan., one afternoon to attend a meeting.

"Two men were quarreling and one drew a revolver and fired at the other. The bullet missed the man shot at and struck my brother-in-law. He died immediately.

William Slain by a Robber.

"My husband, William P. Dilworth, was next. On Thanksgiving morning, ten years ago, he went to his store to open it. We were living in Oklahoma City then. He was counting his cash when a man walked in the store and commanded him to throw up his hands. There never was a Dilworth living that could ever raise his hands above his shoulders, and my husband was killed as a result. The man who killed him is now serving a life term in the penitentiary.

"The only one of my husband's family now living is Richard Dilworth, a minister in Pennsylvania. He escaped death by a miracle. He was a missionary in Alaska years ago, and was a very bitter enemy of the whisky element. He always talked prohibition. After an extremely bitter attack on liquor in a small mining town one night he was waylaid and assaulted. He was left for dead. He was found by friends and recovered."

Mrs. Dilworth has always feared the fate that seemed to follow the family.

"We often talked about it," she said, "and often wondered who would he next. I would laugh at the boys and tell them it was only a string of coincidences, because I didn't want them to worry.

"But down in my heart I was always sure that it would follow us, and it has."

Mrs. Dilworth, the wife of Dwight P. Dilworth, was visiting in this city when her husband was slain in New York. She was accompanied here by her 3-year-old son, Dwight P. Dilworth, Jr.

Mrs. Dilworth has no idea who killed her husband. She said he didn't have any enemies that she knew of and had never received any threats. She said the young woman who accompanied him probably was either one of his clients or a friend of some of their friends. Dilworth's funeral and burial was at Fort Scott, Kan., Friday.

Mrs. Dilworth left immediately afterward for the East to settle Dilworth's business affairs and help the police in the puzzle of the Golf Links road tragedy.

Like Cliff Drive Slaying.

The murder of Dwight P. Dilworth while motoring with a young woman in a lonely by-path in Van Cortlandt Park in New York City, according to accounts in New York papers, has many of the aspects of the shooting of motorists on Cliff Drive in Kansas City a year or two ago. The circumstances leading up to the attack on Dilworth were identical with those of the Cliff Drive cases.

For weeks a band of young men have been haunting the road which was the scene of the New York crime, terrorizing motorists, but, despite this, the road has not been properly policed, according to the New York papers.

Within 400 feet of the road is the Mosholu Parkway, a much traveled highway, and locally known as "Lovers' Lane," yet no one heard the shots that killed Dilworth. A railroad watchman near the scene heard no shots and was informed of the crime by Miss Mary McNiff, Dilworth's companion, who came to his shanty to seek aid. The road is a secluded one and has been the scene of a number of robberies recently, the last one occurring a week before the murder.

The story of Miss McNiff has been substantiated by police investigation and they are positive that she knows nothing more of the murder than given in her first statement.

Two theories are being advanced by the police as an explanation of the mystery of the murder — one that the two men were highwaymen, and the second that Dilworth was murdered by enemies who were responsible for the large number of similar casualties in his family.

--------------------

Three Arrested as Suspects.

NEW YORK. — Police engaged in solving the Dilworth murder case arrested Bernard Decio, 21 years old, near the scene of the shooting. Tony Gadina was arrested in Mount Vernon following a hold-up there, and George Teyden, who was with Gadina at the time of his arrest, also is held.

Stories have come to light of Dilworth's life. The police were told he had a wide acquaintance in theatrical circles. They were also told of Dilworth's fondness for women, which ended in his forced withdrawal from a firm here.

That Dilworth was well known along Broadway and in its resorts became known when "Dolly" Rogers, an actress, said she had introduced Dilworth to Mary McNiff, who was his companion on the night of the crime.

Jealousy of some of Broadway's women is being put forward as a possible cause for the murder.

"Dolly" Rogers, however, expressed the opinion to detectives that "Dear old Dwight" might have been murdered by private detectives frightened out of their caution while trying to "get something on him."

A new witness is a woman who claims to have seen "a woman in a large hat" running from the scene of the crime just after the shots were fired.

Miss McNiff was in the district attorney's office three hours in the afternoon retelling the story of the crime. She could identify none of the three men now under arrest.

The autopsy showed it was possible that only one pistol was used, instead of the two Miss McNiff said she believed she saw. The body had three wounds. The first was a mere chin-scrape.

Miss McNiff said Dilworth phoned the apartment of Mr. and Mrs. Eugene Corwin, where she lived, asking that the Corwins and Miss McNiff go for an automobile ride, the girl said. Mrs. Corwin was out of town, she said, and as Corwin was ill she consented to go with Dilworth alone.

Wife Denies Reports.

Mrs. Dwight P. Dilworth still has absolute confidence in her husband. Statements that Dilworth was fond of other women and bohemian companions were indignantly denied by his widow. She declared it absurd that Dilworth ever returned to his home in Montclair, N. J., in an intoxicated condition, or that he ever associated with women other than relatives and friends of the family outside of business hours.

"It is absolutely ridiculous," Mrs. Dilworth declared. "My husband never came home intoxicated and I knew all his women friends. But even if it were true, do you think I would tell it? Do you think I am such a fool as to try to blacken my husband's name after he is dead? I do not believe a woman killed my husband. and I know nothing on which to base such a belief."

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 4.

Kills Wife, Shoots Self

1916

HUNTSVILLE, Alabama — In a fit of jealous rage Ben Cowley shot and killed his wife, a widely known beauty, and then attempted to kill himself. He is in a hospital with a bullet wound in his head, and is not expected to live.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 3.

Injured Man's Mind Blank

1916

May Never Be Able to Tell of Wife's Slaying.

MILWAUKEE, Wisconsin. — The mystery of the murder of Mrs. Julia Demin may have been locked in the bruised, incurably injured brain of her husband, Louis Demin, whose skull was fractured when she was killed, supposedly by a burglar.

Demin is recovering from his physical wounds in the city hospital, but all efforts to get him in a condition to describe the events of the fatal night have failed.

It is now feared that when Mrs. Demin was killed her husband was so badly injured about the head that he will never recover his mental strength.

—The Saturday Blade, Chicago, Sept. 16, 1916, p. 3.

Murdered for a Cent

1910

A quarrel over a single penny led to a murder in Hoboken the other day. A man from Nebraska, who stopped at a hotel in Hoboken while awaiting the sailing of the steamer for Europe, put a penny in the slot of an automatic music box in the dining-room of the hotel, but the box refused to pour forth the expected ragtime tune. The Nebraskan became indignant and upbraided the German porter. The latter explained to him that it required a nickel and not a penny to set the mechanism of the music-box in motion, but that explanation did not satisfy the man from Nebraska. He became abusive and when the porter threatened to put him out, he pulled a revolver from his pocket and shot the porter dead.

The God of Murderers

1900

In a certain mountain village on the northwest frontier of Burma, is a sacred pool, in which is said to live a nat — i.e., a demon — called Shearpanial, who is the guardian spirit of murderers.

When a murder is committed anywhere in these hills, the water of this pool is reported to turn blood red.

Now, when this happens it is a warning sign to the villagers, who are the wardens of the pool, to be on their guard lest the murderer, whoever he may be and from whatever village he may come, unobserved, succeed in reaching the pool, for the Chin law or custom is that if a murderer manages to elude the "avengers of blood" (who are usually some near blood relations of the victim) and the vigilance of the guardians of the pool and succeeds in gaining it and washes his hands in its blood red water, which, as soon as this occurs, resumes its usual appearance, testifying that the god of murder is appeased, he is absolved from his blood guiltiness and is thereafter a free man, and no one may henceforth molest him.

On the other hand, if he were overtaken by his pursuers or were he prevented by the village guardians from reaching the well be would speedily pay the penalty of his crime with his life. — London Answers.

Call On Spirits to Help Convict Negro

1921

(Special to Post-Crescent)

Des Moines, Iowa. — A voice from the spirit world is being used to help forge the chain of evidence against Tom Lewis, negro, charged with assaulting and murdering 23-year-old Sara Barbara Thorsdale, Des Moines school teacher.

Miss Thorsdale's body was found in a clump of bushes alongside the lonely road she took in walking from her school to the street car. Lewis, who lived in a shack nearby, was traced by bloodhounds. He denies all knowledge of the crime.

The spirit voice is that of the slain girl, transmitted through Mrs. E. C. Head, a Des Moines medium, to Mrs. Gladys Conway, Miss Thorsdale's dearest chum.

The chum, skeptically but hopefully, applied to Mrs. Head after Lewis protested his innocence. She says she heard the voice of Miss Thorsdale clearly, that it told her a negro and two white men were responsible, and that it explained the crime in this way:

"I was walking casually along, and when I reached the thicket a hand was stretched out and caught me. Another hand went over my mouth. That was 4:40 in the afternoon, but my spirit did not leave my body until the next day. I was taken to a cabin and kept there. Early the following morning they took my body to the river to throw it into the water, but the men were afraid. There were two men. Another knew, but did not help."

Names of the two white men have been turned over to officials, who say they will be arrested.

Sheriff W. E. Robb plans to use both Mrs. Conway and Mrs. Head as witnesses.

—Appleton Post-Crescent, Appleton, WI, July 25, 1921, p. 6.

Comb World In Vain for Arnold Girl

Dec. 1915

Relatives Give Up Hope as Five Years Pass Without Trace

Folks Wear Mourning

Disappeared Five Years Ago This Week

Following is the order of Dorothy Arnold's actions December 12, 1910, so far as known up to the time of her disappearance:
11:30 A. M. — Left her home at 108 East Seventy-ninth street, New York, telling her mother she intended to buy a new dress.
12:00 Noon. — Bought a box of candy at Fifth avenue and Fifty-ninth street.
2:00 P. M. — Bought a book at Brentano's and had it charged, altho she had between $20 and $30 in her purse when she left her home two hours and a half earlier.
2:45 P. M. — Met a girl friend at Fifth avenue, near Thirtieth street.
2:50 P. M. — ? ? ? ? ?

NEW YORK, Dec. 16. — Five years ago this week Miss Dorothy Arnold vanished so completely that no detective in the world has been able to discover a clew to her whereabouts or her fate.

"What happened to Dorothy Arnold?" is a question that has been asked in every house where newspapers printed in any language are read.

For answer such men as William J. Flynn, now head of the United States Secret Service; Sir E. R. Henry, chief of Scotland Yard; William J. Burns, George S. Dougherty, former deputy police commissioner in charge of the New York detectives; Joseph A. Faurot, present chief of detectives, and Lieut. Grant Williams, who as the director of the New York police department's bureau of missing persons, has investigated thousands of strange disappearances, give the reply that they are at a loss for a way to fathom the mystery.

If Dead, Where Is Body?

Dorothy Arnold was last seen, so far as is known to the police or other investigators, at Fifth avenue and Thirtieth street, on Monday, Dec. 12, 1910. The time was 3 o'clock in the afternoon or a few minutes earlier.

The aged father of the missing girl, who has spent many thousands of dollars to search every city in the world by wireless, cable, telegraph, telephone, mail and detectives, wears as a silent answer to the query of Dorothy's fate a wide mourning band on his hat, a mourning necktie and a suit of black. He is a wealthy importer of French and Russian perfumes.

"She is dead," he said to reporters this week.

"But where is her body?" is the question asked by trained investigators.

"Any morgue keeper in the entire country would at once take notice of a woman dressed in expensive lingerie or clothing," Lieutenant Williams says, in discussing the statistics of his bureau, which show that on the average one woman a year is left unidentified.

Description of Dorothy Arnold.

Dorothy Arnold on Dec. 12, 1910, when she went away from her home, was 26 years old. She was about 5 feet 4 inches tall and weighed in the neighborhood of 140 pounds.

She was of striking appearance; her complexion was bright, her hair was dark brown and her eyes were grayish blue.

She wore a tailor-made blue serge suit and a black velvet hat trimmed with two silk roses.

The hat had inscribed in its lining the name of a fashionable milliner. Similarly, the name of the maker was embroidered on the tailor-made underwear which the young woman wore.

In her hand bag Miss Arnold carried about $20 or $30; yet she asked the clerk in Park & Tilford's Fifth avenue and Fifty-ninth street store to charge a pound of candy, and requested the cashier in Brentano's store to send her father the bill for a book — "An Engaged Girl's Sketches" — which she bought within a few hours after she was last seen by her mother.

Search Made All Over World.

The search for Dorothy Arnold has never been equaled for thoroughness. Here was the case of a mature young woman, highly educated, to a degree literary, and physically strong enough to balk any attempt at kidnaping. She was not in the habit of "slumming" or doing "settlement work," but, on the contrary, was more inclined to afternoon visits to such places as Sherry's restaurant and the Plaza tearoom. Her evenings were mostly spent in the company of her relatives or near friends. For almost six weeks following the disappearance of Dorothy the search was conducted along "confidential" lines. Her father, the descendant of a proud New England family, which traces its lineage back to the landing of the Pilgrims, loathed publicity. Her mother, a Canadian by birth and highly sensitive, equally abhorred the thought of letting the prying eyes of the public get a glimpse into the family circle.

The Man in Her Life.

There was a man in Dorothy Arnold's life. A few months preceding her disappearance the "affair" was such that it became a matter of family discussion. The first act after the young woman failed to respond to advertisements inserted in the personal columns of newspapers was to communicate by wireless with steamships bound for Europe. Then detectives were sent to Pittsburgh, Pa., to find out where George S. Griscom, a 44-year-old engineer, was staying at that time.

Griscom was in Florence, Italy. And there Mrs. Arnold hastened to confront him with the story of her daughter's disappearance. Even at the time of her sailing, the Arnolds were determined not to take any more persons than absolutely necessary into their confidence. Arnold had written to his brother in Germany a letter saying that a "terrible calamity had befallen the family," but they "did not wish to spoil their Christmas holiday by telling about it." As Mrs. Arnold sailed her husband cabled briefly to his brother telling him to furnish her with funds if needed.

Like the public, Dorothy Arnold's uncle and aunt got the first intimation of what had happened on the morning of Jan. 26, 1911, when the story of the disappearance appeared in all the newspapers of the leading cities of the United States and Europe. Deputy Police Commissioner Flynn, now chief of the Secret Service, on the day before told Arnold that his detectives had to have the aid of the newspapers. The "confidential" search had failed.

At the same time that the reporters were asked to aid the family. Word of Mrs. Arnold's visit to Florence and her meeting there with Griscom was kept a secret. "She is too sick to be seen," was the only explanation offered when reporters inquired for her. Two days later, however, it became known that George S. Griscom "was the man in the case." It then became known that the young woman less than two months before she left her family had been in Boston, where, according to the records of a loan company, she had obtained $60 for a quantity of jewelry that had been pawned.

George Griscom was Boston at the time, but if he and Dorothy met there at the time the information was never communicated to the public. It was admitted Dorothy on her return to New York rented a mail box in the general postoffice and that she quite regularly corresponded with Griscom. The letters she wrote him were in his possession the day Mrs. Arnold and her elder son John, saw him in Florence. As she demanded them John Arnold felled Griscom with a blow on the jaw. Then a promise was exacted from Griscom that he would never reveal the contents of the letters. Griscom has until this day kept his word as far as known.

Mrs. Arnold, on entering the lower bay on the steamship Pannonia, received a message from her attorneys and her two sons, John and D. Hinckley, met her at the pier. On their advice she declined to go into any details of her daughter's disappearance. John Arnold, in an interview with the then District Attorney Whitman, six days after the arrival of his mother from Italy, said he was convinced that Dorothy had committed suicide. He did not suggest that she might have met with foul play, nor did he ask for a grand jury investigation of her disappearance.

House in Pittsburgh Raided.

That the family lawyers at first shared with the detectives the belief that Dorothy Arnold bought a box of candy and a book with the intention of passing away time while riding on a railroad train was evident some time after the investigation was under way when John Keith, head of the Arnolds' legal representatives, said he had searched a sanitarium on the outskirts of Pittsburgh which was raided in April, 1913, by the Pittsburgh County authorities, who charged its proprietor with the death of a young woman who had been missing from her home for nearly a year.

A few days after this raid and the mention in the newspapers of Dorothy's name in connection with the investigation of the place, Arnold sent for the reporters and invited them to go thru his East Seventy-ninth street house from cellar to garret. He repeated his belief that his daughter would never be found.

The police records show that of the women who are daily reported as missing there are but few who, under any compulsion, give up the luxuries of homes so that they may wander about as fancy dictates. Some go away because of quarrels, others because they tire of being "pampered" by indulgent mothers, brothers and sisters, and others want to get away from the scene of some lovers' quarrel.

Dorothy Arnold was a girl of romantic ideas. She incorporated some of these in manuscripts, hoping to have them published. She was a graduate of Bryn Mawr, and after her schooling she began writing novels — which were never published.

——————

Did Dorothy Arnold take her family into her confidence? Has everything been told? Has any evidence been found to point to the theory that she is dead? Could she have been murdered and her body disposed of? Was there a suggested motive for murder? Did she by act or word suggest a reason for leaving home? These questions have been asked by the leading detectives of the world.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Dec. 18, 1915, p. 3.

Note: The case was never solved.

Threw Wife Over Cliff; Hurled Dog After Her

1915

Husband Did This, Says Man Who Helped Him

Confesses They Took Mrs. Frederick T. Price to Lonely Spot, Gave Her Fling Over Embankment

—————
CONSIDERED SIGNIFICANT

Mrs. Frederick T. Price met her death in a mysterious manner Nov. 28, 1914, one day after she had been given $60,000 by her father.
—————

MINNEAPOLIS, Minn., Dec. 16. — Confessing, according to George Armstrong, county prosecutor of Hennepin County, Minnesota, that he aided Fredrick T. Price of Minneapolis in hurling Price's wife to death over a cliff, Charles D. Etchison, a traveling salesman of Washington, D. C., is in Minneapolis where he must face legal action.

Etchison was arrested in Washington by operatives of a private detective agency and was brought here. Accompanying him was Armstrong, who announced that the prisoner had confessed.

"Mrs. Price was the daughter of David B. Fridley, member of one of the oldest Minneapolis families," Etchison is reported to have said in his confession, "and the day after she got the money, she and Price and I went to a matinee. Later Price suggested an auto ride.

"She sat in the rear with her dog — Price and I in front. Price stopped the ear near a steep embankment. He muttered something about tire trouble, and asked his wife if she didn't want to get out and give the dog some exercise.

Threw Wife Over Cliff.

"As Mrs. Price stepped out, Price put one arm in front of her, and I put an arm in front and we gave a fling. Down she went. Price picked up the dog and threw it after his wife."

When they climbed down the embankment, Etchison is reported to have said, they found the woman still alive and Price struck her head with a stone.

"We told everybody that she stepped over the cliff to save her dog," the officials said Etchison confessed. "Price canceled my notes for $1,200 he held and gave me $3,500 to boot."

—————

"I deny it all. I swear it is not true," declared Fredrick T. Price, when told in his cell at the county jail of the confession of Charles D. Etchison, that he aided Price in the murder of the latter's wife Nov. 28, 1914. "I do not care to say anything further except to reiterate that the confession is not true."

Price was indicted by the county grand jury for bigamy and murder.

After his wife's death Price sued the city of Minneapolis for $7,500 for leaving the river bank unprotected where he said his wife had fallen over. A detective revealed that Price had been married twice before and he dismissed his suit.

Last Christmas Price married Miss Carrie Olson, a Minneapolis bookkeeper. While his wife was living, it is said, he promised Miss Olson to get a divorce. It is charged he did not get a divorce from one of his three wives.

—Saturday Blade, Chicago, Dec. 18, 1915, p. 11.

Note: Price was convicted of the murder by a jury in district court, Minneapolis, in Jan. 1916. Etchison repeated the substance of his confession from December.

Slain By Naked Maniac

Iowa, 1900

James Fitzsimmons Dead, Three Others Injured

Cedar Rapids dispatch: Charles Mefford, a maniac, at 5 o'clock a.m. killed James Fitzsimmons, fatally injured John Drake, seriously and possibly fatally injured Mrs. James Fitzsimmons and then ended his own life.

Mefford was 20 years old and had been insane for a number of years. Two years ago he was in the Independence asylum for a short time, but escaped and was never returned. He was not generally considered dangerous. Saturday night about ten o'clock, while clad in nothing but a shirt, he darted out of his home, a raving maniac. He was seen two or three times between then and midnight, but the police failed to find him.

Shortly before 5 o'clock Reginald Andrews, the janitor at the Old Ladies' Home was awakened by crashing glass. The next moment Mefford stood before him. stark naked, swinging a neck yoke. He warned Andrews that his time had come and swung the neck yoke in an effort to brain him. The latter dodged and grabbed the weapon, threw Mefford on the bed and choked him until he begged for mercy.

Then Andrews agreed to give him a bath, a suit of clothes and some breakfast, which apparently satisfied him. Rushing through the house, Andrews locked the twelve or fourteen old ladies in their rooms, notified the police by telephone, and then ran across the street, to the home of Joseph Drake for assistance.

Drake dressed, picked up a revolver, and they started out. As they did so Mefford, carrying an ax, was seen to plunge through a window in the home of James Fitzsimmons, about 150 yards away. As he entered the room Mrs. Fitzsimmons uttered a scream. Mefford swung the ax and brought it down toward her head. Her uplifted arm saved her life; the arm was broken in two places and she sustained a serious scalp wound. Mr. Fitzsimmons hurried to the aid of his wife and his skull was crushed with the ax, death resulting immediately.

The maniac then rushed into the room of Miss Katie, who escaped with a few scalp wounds. Starting down stairs he was met by Drake who snapped his revolver four times at the madman, each time upon an empty shell. Mefford grabbed the revolver, ran a few blocks and killed himself with the one load the revolver contained.

—Humeston New Era, Humeston, Iowa, July 4, 1900.

Poisoning as a Profession

1916

Use of Deadly Gases Recalls Politics of the Dark Age Statemen and Diplomats

It is interesting today, when the opposing armies are "removing" their opponents en bloc by the use of poisonous vapors, to recall the horror evoked by the deeds of poisoners in the past. The names of the Borgias and the Medici are to this day held up to the detestation of mankind. Yet these and their like only poisoned individuals; the fighting forces today are compelled to endeavor to poison entire armies!

Their wholesale methods will doubtless go to enrich the annals of historical poisoning. For poison has played a great part in history. The employment of poison by the ancients is graphically and terribly illustrated in the deaths of Socrates, Demosthenes, Hannibal and Cleopatra, while in the reign of Artaxerxes II. (Memnon), B.C. 405-350, Phrysa poisoned the Queen Statira by cutting food with a knife poisoned on one side.

In the early part of the Christian era numberless professional poisoners arose, and for a long time exercised their trade with impunity. "Poisoning," says a well known authority, "was so much in use as a political engine that Agrippina (A.D. 26) refused to eat of some apples offered her at table by her father-in-law, Tiberius." It is a curious fact that Agrippina, while refusing to partake of these apples from her fear of being poisoned, was herself guilty of the poisoning of Claudius; but poetic justice was meted out to her in the death (by poison) of her son, Britannicus.

It was at this time, too, that the infamous Locusta flourished. She is said to have supplied, with suitable directions, the poison by which Agrippina got rid of Claudius; and she was also the principal agent in the preparation of the poison that was administered to Britannicus by order of his brother Nero.

"It was the custom of the Romans to drink hot water," says Mr. Wynter Blythe, "a draught nauseous enough to us, but, from fashion or habit, considered by them a luxury. And as no two men's tastes are alike, great skill was shown by the slaves in bringing the water to exactly that degree of heat which their respective masters found agreeable.

"A slave brings water to Britannicus; it is too hot; Britannicus refuses it. The slave adds cold water, and it is this cold water that is supposed to have been poisoned. In any case, Britannicus died, and extraordinary lividity spread over the corpse, which they attempted to conceal by painting the face."

There has come down to us a curious document, said to have been drawn out by Charles de Mauvais, King of Navarre, which shows how arsenic was much favored as a political weapon by crowned heads in the fourteenth century. It is a commission of murder given to a certain Wouderton.

"Go thou to Paris. Thou canst do great service if thou wilt. Do what I tell thee. I will reward thee well. Thou shall do thus: There is a thing which is called sublime arsenic. If a man eat a bit the size of a pea he will never survive. Thou wilt find it in Pampeluna, Bordeaux, Bayonne, and in all good towns through which thou will pass, at the apothecaries' shops.

"Take it and powder it; and when thou shalt be in the house of the king, and of Valois, his brother, the Dukes of Berry, Burgundy and Bourbon, draw near and betake this to the kitchen, to the larder, to the cellar, and in other places where thy point can be best gained. Put the powder in the soups, meats or wines, provided that thou canst do it secretly. Otherwise do it not."

Wouderton, failing to accomplish his task, was detected and executed in 1384.

No better example of this dread in which poisoners were held can be quoted than the fact that at so late a period as the reign of Henry VII extraordinary precautions were thought necessary for preserving the life of the infant heir. It was ordained that no person, of whatsoever rank, except the regular attendants in the nursery, were to approach the cradle, except with an order from the king's hand. Moreover, everything intended for the royal infant was boiled, to prevent all risk of poison as far as possible.

One of the more recent instances of political poisoning is that of the Sultan Abdul-Aziz, who died May 30, 1876. By reason of his advanced ideas he was forced to abdicate the throne, and four days later the unhappy sultan was found dead, it is almost certain by foul play. — From London Answers.

Price of a Life in London Slums

1907

Willing Murderers Plenty in the Slums of London

I am told that a ten pound note will buy a man's life in London — that any unsuspicious person can fall into the Thames on a dark night or break his neck going round a slippery dark corner or fall under a van if a little bit of crisp paper changes hands, says a London writer.

I know that a very distinguished playwright, wishing to work out the plot of a melodrama, went into a high class den of thieves, made friends with some of the leaders and unfolded to them as something he wished to put into execution the plan he had devised for his villain's action.

He told his listeners that there was a very important financier he wanted out of the way for forty-eight hours while he played the very dickens on the Stock Exchange with the stocks the financier controlled. He suggested to his listeners that an attractive lady and a yacht would be the simplest means of insuring this object.

His hearers concurred. They knew the very yacht for the purpose. A skipper and a crew could easily be produced, and concerning the lady there would be no difficulty whatever.

"Then, after the forty-eight hours, we will of course bring him back," said the dramatist brightly, thinking of his fourth act.

A cloud came over the faces of his audience: "Well, guv'ner, of course, if you wish it. But it would save such a lot of questions being asked if he just went quietly overboard," the spokesman suggested.

Moonshine and Murder

1914

A dispatch recently appeared regarding a maniac now pursuing his murderous career throughout various of the Western States, armed with an ax, which, according to the view of the benighted, he is moved to wield only in the dark of the moon. Why in the dark and not in the light, they do not explain; anyhow, most of his deeds have been accomplished in the absence of the lunar glow, and hence is argued a mysterious connection between that fact and his recurring fits of homicidal insanity.

Every scientist in the land will scout this theory at once, just as they have the theory that the things that grow down should be planted in the dark of the moon, and the crops that grow upward in its light. Some of 'em will admit that crabs fatten under moonlight, but this, they claim, is because they can see better to hustle around for their meals under such conditions. They will further point out, no doubt, that most murderous deeds, and especially those that have been deliberately planned, will be perpetrated when darkness lends a measure of protection to the murderer and removes the same from his victim.

Be that as it may, we still have the poets to fall back on. Didn't Byron say "The devil's in the moon for mischief?" And Othello, who had his own reasons for knowing, could cry:

It is the very error of the moon;
She comes more nearer earth than she was wont.
And makes men mad.

Which may not have been altogether grammatical, but it is far more convincing than anything the scientists have had to offer up to the hour of going to press.

Man's Loud Snoring in Court Lands Him in Jail for Contempt

Phoenix, 1894

A RIOTOUS SLUMBER.

Victor Joyeau Snored Himself Into Contempt.

Rochefort, the Mercurial and Murderous Frenchman Held to the Grand Jury for $300.

Victor Joyeau, the Monroe street jeweler, yesterday treated Justice Kincaid's court with a contempt which might have been described as silent but for his unearthly snoring, which disturbed the proceedings as much as a riot would have done. Victor came to court under the impression that it was a lodging house and went to sleep. An officer remonstrated with him and pointed out to him the impossibility of transacting business while he slept. The reverberation of his snores destroyed the equal poise of the scales of justice into which the court was getting ready to throw the case of Eli Rochefort, charged with two varieties of deadly assault.

Victor promised to abate the disturbance and did so for two minutes when he relapsed into somnolence of an aggravated type. This time he was awakened somewhat roughly. The officer spoke bitterly to Monsieur Joyeau of his breach of faith and tired him out of the court room. Victor walked to the end of Wall street and thinking that he had thrown off the shackles of the tyrant Morpheus walked back and resumed his seat nap and uproar. This time be was roused by a cyclonic movement by the officer who conducted him before the court. A $5 fine was administered and Victor was taken to jail wide awake and profane. After his departure and as soon as the atmospheric waves set in motion by Monsieur Joyeau's snores had ceased their action against the window panes and other loose and rattling objects, the Rochefort case proceeded and attention which had been diverted from it by Joyeau's racket was riveted upon it. The evidence in the cases had fortunately all been submitted the day before so that the whole of yesterday could be taken up in the arguments.

The result was technically an even break for Rochefort, that is one charge assault with attempt to commit murder was dismissed and the other, assault with a deadly weapon was sustained. Rochefort was held to the grand jury in the sum of $300. The saintly Paul Laloo as the friend of Rochefort incidentally came in for an artistic skinning.

—The Arizona Republican, Phoenix, April 12, 1894, p. 3.

Murderer on Death Row Says He's in "Don't Worry Club"

Pennsylvania, 1920

COLLINS NOT WORRYING

Clarence R. Collins, confessed murderer of Geo. Bushman, of Gettysburg, and sentenced to die on the electric chair, occupies his mind with art and music in his cell in the Adams county jail, where he has been confined for 16 long months. He is an able decorator. The youth told a "Times" reporter that he takes things as they come and concentrates his mind to keep from worrying. Collins remains well physically and mentally, and keeps his appearance tidy. He has drawn artistic pictures on the cell walls and has attractively arranged various ornaments. Collins is learning to play the violin and mandolin. "Does it become monotonous to you," the reporter asked, "to stay in this one place all the time?" "Some days it is and some days it isn't," he replied. "When I first came in here I walked the floor every night and worried all the time. Then all of sudden I joined the 'Don't worry club' and since then I have been getting along fine. The only thing to do is to take things as they come."

—New Oxford Item, New Oxford, Pennsylvania, Feb. 19, 1920, p. 9.


MURDERERS EXECUTED

Adams County's youthful murderers, Clarence R. Collins, a native of Mt. Joy township, and Charles C. Reinecker, a native of Highland township, went calmly, without a trace of fear, to their death on the electric chair in the Western Penitentiary near Bellefonte, Monday morning. Collins was the first to die, the current being turned on at 7:06 a. m. and being declared dead at 7:13 o'clock. Reinecker's body received the shock at 7:20 and he was dead at 7:25.

When, after the hard fight, they were informed that the electric chair was inevitable, the boys prepared for the end by singing hymns and writing letters to friends and relatives. They were taken to Rockview on Friday from Gettysburg by Detective Chas. Wilson, Sheriff Hartman and Horace E. Smiley. Neither Collins nor Reinecker showed the slightest trace of emotion. Only once Reinecker remarked. "Well, it has to be. We have to pay the penalty for our crime."

The surprising fact that both Collins and Reinecker were able to go through that terrible ordeal without once breaking down was due to a large measure to the efforts of Dr. J. B. Baker and Dr. Harry Daniels, their spiritual advisers. For many weeks these two pastors labored for hours in the cells of the condemned murderers persuading them to think of the world beyond and to forget the stern realities before them. Dr. Baker talked and prayed with the doomed murderers during their last few hours on earth.

The only official Adams county representative in the death room Monday morning was Arthur C. Sentz, constable of Mr. Joy township. He requested to be assigned the duty and was chosen by Sheriff Hartman. Clarence Bushman, sergeant in the Marine Corps, a son of the murdered man, had expressed a desire to see the execution but he wasn't permitted to do so.

Collins was buried in St. Mark's cemetery near his former home, and Reinecker was buried in the family plot in Evergreen cemetery, Gettysburg on Tuesday. The funeral service in each instance consisted only of a short commitment at the grave. John C. Shealer, of Gettysburg, went to Rock View Monday for the bodies. The two boys, so far as is known were the youngest pair to be electrocuted in the history of Pennsylvania. Collins was 19 years old and Reinecker only 17 years when the crime was committed.

At Rockview, an execution is an every day duty and little attention is paid to the feelings of prisoners. When Collins and Reinecker were being turned over to the warden Friday evening, the latter said to Detective Charles Wilson:

"Have you sent up the caskets from Gettysburg?" In answer to a reply from Detective Wilson that he was not familiar with the funeral arrangements, the warden stated:

"Well I hope the caskets arrive soon. We usually ship out the bodies the same day."

This conversation took place in the presence of both Collins and Reinecker. The tragic ending to the lives of the most cold blooded murder in the history of Adams county. On the night of October 16, 1918, the pair of Gettysburg youths hired George Bushman, local automobile driver, to take them to Carlisle. Near the boundary line between Adams and Cumberland counties, Reinecker drew a revolver and shot Bushman in the back of the head. Collins then drove the machine through Carlisle to the river road in Harrisburg where the pair dumped the body along the bank of the Susquehanna. Robbery was their motive, but only a small sum was secured. On October 24, Collins was arrested in Waynesboro by Detective Charles Wilson on the charge of automobile larceny. The next day the prisoner broke down and confessed that he and Reinecker had not only stolen the machine, but had murdered its driver. Wilson immediately arrested Reineekcr in front of Reichle's meat market. Reinecker also confessed his part in the crime.

During the January term of court in 1919 Collins was convicted of murder in the first degree. On February 9th the jury returned a similar verdict against Reinecker. Then started a long series of proceedings which lasted over a period of more than two years.

—New Oxford Item, April 28, 1921, p. 1.

Note: Bushman's wife, Mary L. Bushman, 73, died Sept. 19, 1933 near Gettysburg. Mrs. Bushman was buried at Evergreen cemetery.