The Murder of Mr. Thompson: The Suspects

This is a contination of a previous post. 

THE FARMINGTON MURDER

The selectmen of Farmington were searching for a murderer based on very few clues and an incredibly general description.

The October 27 Times stated that a man “answering precisely to the description given by Mrs. Thompson” (we can only hope she gave a better description to the police than the newspaper!) had been seen in a shop in Farmington on that same day. He was, “short, hair cropped, had a low round topped hat, features haggard, eyes dull, appearing as if he had been on a spree. His voice was peculiar, a fact specially remarked by Mrs. Thompson and her daughter.”

A Mr. Steele, who lived on the road to Bloomfield said that on the night of the murder, he heard two or three people talking amongst themselves on the road near his home. He saw one man “muttering to himself in an incoherent manner” and that he heard the man say the words “Sorry I did it,” “I killed him,” and “blood, blood.” Another neighbor claimed to have heard similar murmurings. Other sightings were also reported, including one by a man in Berlin, who insisted that the murderer knocked on his door at 2 a.m. Saturday morning claiming he was lost and needed directions to Berlin.

On October 26, the Courant swapped their dramatic take on the event for a deeply sympathetic one in their next article on the murder. Earlier articles were rife with mystery and gore. Suddenly, the “mysteriously murdered” man was the son of a “widowed mother” who had “completely broken down” and “the house…where she expected to live out her few remaining years in peace and quietness… is darkened by a shadow… She cannot live there in the future without being continually reminded of the shocking events… and feeling unsafe beneath the shelter of that humble roof.” It continued that the murderer would not have killed Luther Thompson if only they understood the “misery he has occasioned.”  

The same article mentions Luther’s enemies and that he had “stood almost daily in fear” of being injured or killed by them. The Courant was informed by a “reliable authority” and assumed that someone who knew Luther must have known that he was going to be murdered in such a way. This contrasts directly with the Times, as they noted that he had not an enemy in the world and that he was “a quiet, peaceful citizen, of excellent character,” a fact which even the Courant had reported in earlier articles.

The motive of the murder remained a mystery, as Thompson had no money or watch on his person, and no money in the house. A neighbor had withdrawn a substantial amount of cash from the bank, and one source suggested that the murderer had mistaken Thompson for the neighbor.

Despite the conflicting reports, information, and suspects, the Farmington selectmen were trying their best to find the murderer of Luther G. Thompson. It seems that one possible suspect was a French-Canadian who had been seen near the house and in the vicinity. This was never confirmed, and a man fitting his description was seen leaving Hartford on a train soon after. They interviewed everyone who had been on the road or near the Thompson house on the night of October 20, 1866. The selectmen worked together and met often, comparing notes and discoveries. A reward for information was up to $5,000- no insignificant sum at the end of the Civil War.

John Connell, a man from Collinsville, was the first to be arrested for the crime. His description (short hair and a hat) and the fact that he had been seen in Farmington were enough to make him a suspect. His whereabouts on Saturday proved that he had nothing to do with the murder

In early November, a suspect was identified as Charles Osborne of East Windsor. The officer who visited his home found that he didn’t match the description of the murderer and that Mr. Osborne was a “quiet and inoffensive man.” He had also returned from a sea voyage after the murder and therefore couldn’t have been the man seen in Berlin or be the murderer.

A Charles Osgood of South Windsor was also a possible suspect. He was a 25-year-old convict who had spent time in jail for threatening his family. The article discussing Osgood is hard to read, so the details are literally fuzzy. It seems that while the detective had reason to follow up, this wasn’t the killer.

The trail went cold until late December when two arrests were finally made. The suspects, Theodore Moister (or as the Times said “Moisture”) and Henry A. Smith, both German men were living in Moister's house in West Hartford.  Henry was married to Moister's daughter at the time. While no mention of them was made in the newspapers until December 31, the Courant mentioned that they had been suspected the day after the murder, but neither Mrs. Thompson nor Mary had recognized either of them when the men were brought to their home. Moister and Smith were supposed to have had a disagreement with Thompson over the sale of a piece of property and their wagon had been seen in the vicinity on the night of the murder by Mr. Spring and his son.

To be continued...

The Murder of Mr. Thompson: The Murder

Shocking Murder in West Hartford:

Julius Thompson Enticed from his House and Murdered in the Road 

THE OBJECT OF THE MURDER A MYSTERY

--THE MURDERER UNKNOWN--

A SUSPICIOUS STRANGER

There’s something about those late 19^th and early 20^th century headlines that really catches the eye. Fantastical headlines like this one stirred the imagination and ensured a reader’s interest. But behind all the adjectives are real stories about people who died in extraordinary or violent ways.

Like most of those I tell, the story of Luther Thompson has been pretty well forgotten. It was indeed mysterious at the time and is still today. Despite the outcome of the hunt for the killers, I think that some doubt still remains as to how he came to his demise.

According to the Hartford Courant, on Saturday, October 20, 1866, at about 7:30 p.m., a man knocked on the door of the Thompson's home (Heirs of Horace Thompson on map) located near the current Sunset Farm area of West Hartford. The man claimed that his wagon had broken down and that he needed assistance fixing it. “Mr. Julius Thompson, a bachelor, about 40 years of age” put on his shoes and headed out to help the man (the newspaper was specific about the shoes and not so much about his name).

The Hartford Times reported that before stepping out, Thompson said, “Mother, that man looks like the fellow that was along here, back and forth, this afternoon, about 3 o’clock.” All three family members had seen a stranger walk up the road by their home and back down that afternoon. Mrs. Thompson recalled looking out the window and described the person as “a short man, with cropped hair, a low crowned hat, and dark clothes.”

Mrs. Thompson and her “16-year-old” daughter Mary began to worry when Thomson hadn't returned by 9 p.m. Mrs. Thompson sent Mary to ask a neighbor if he had seen her brother. She walked down the Talcott Mountain Road to the Farmington Road to the nearest neighbors’ house. After searching for nearly an hour, Henry Barbour and Luke Collins found Thompson's body lying beneath a large willow tree near the corner of the two main roads.

It was apparent that Thompson had been badly beaten and had suffered from a broken skull, which was most likely the death blow. The murder weapon may have been a round stick, or “sand club” (a long, sand-filled cloth or leather weapon), which could explain the bruising and lack of bleeding and cuts. The body was brought into the family’s home, where a doctor examined the remains.

Ironically, the next day, the Courant reported that "The accounts as published in the city papers generally agree on the main points..." while also saying "The man murdered was named Luther G. Thompson." The paper not only got his name wrong, but Luther was only 36 years old, and his "16-year-old" sister was actually 25 years old. It should be noted that the weekly Hartford Times was correct in their initial information, but the story first ran several days after the murder, giving them time to check their facts.

In a depressing twist, several people had ridden by the willow tree that night and noticed the body. One of the riders, Mr. Newton Hart, said that he assumed it was a drunk man passed out in the gutter. A Mr. Spring and his son had actually driven by Thompson before he died, seeing him struggle to rise from the ground and thinking him drunk. If they had stopped, it is possible the father and son could have offered comfort to the dying man. 

Stay tuned for part 2!

Ethel Dissell

Just before 9 p.m. on the night of September 6, 1915, 15 year-old Ethel Dissell, 9 year-old Christine Dissell, and their step-sister 14 year-old Abbey Parsons were enjoying their walk in West Hartford, CT. The evening was an exciting one, as the three girls were making their way down Webster Hill to watch the fireworks that were supposed to take place at the Charter Oak Fair Grounds that evening. Unfortunately, it started to rain, so the girls headed down the hill toward their home on Park Road. They were walking on the east of South Main Street. As they walked, Wilton Sherman, an upstanding and well-known citizen of the Town pulled out of his driveway and began to drive north on the same street.

As the girls headed down the hill, Ethel was walking nearest the road, with Christine and Abbey next to her. They walked along the edge of the street, as there was no sidewalk. According to the Hartford Courant, a car traveling south on South Main Street came over the hill with bright headlights. As the car neared Sherman, he was blinded by them and failed to see the girls on the side of the road. A driver behind him also noted that he was blinded by the headlights. 

While Sherman was, according to him and other eyewitnesses, traveling at about twenty miles per hour, he was unable to see the girls and hit Ethel and Abbey, and clipped Christine. Both Ethel and Abbey were knocked unconscious. A local doctor was nearby and attempted to revive the unconscious girls while an ambulance was summoned. Both of them were taken to St. Francis Hospital, but Christine insisted on being taken home, as she had just a sprained ankle.

At the hospital, Abbey awoke, but was severely bruised and had lacerations over much of her body. Ethel was found to have a fracture at the base of her skull and she passed away at 9:30 p.m. Mrs. Dissell was obviously absolutely devastated by the loss of her child. 

Wilton Sherman was also devastated by the injuries and death he caused. When he saw Ethel and Christine in the road, he collapsed and was removed to his home just up the street. Friends said that he was in "a highly nervous condition". He was later charged with criminal negligence and reckless driving. At the trial, Sherman discussed the bright lights, saying that he did not use his own due to "the ordinances of this city regarding dazzling lights". In addition, the road was slippery from the rain, and the car slid another twenty or thirty feet after he hit the brakes. Another witness suggested that the twenty miles per hour at which Sherman was traveling was not a "safe speed under the circumstances," but that it was "impossible to see anything in the face of the strong headlights." In the end, he was found not guilty by the West Hartford justice court on October 4, 1915.

1909 Sanborn Map, West Hartford, CT

Ethel's mother, Mrs. Anna M. (Simpson) Dissell Parsons lost her first husband in December of 1909, leaving her a single mother with four sons and two daughters. In 1913, she remarried a Massachusetts transplant, Alonzo Parsons, who had several children of his own, most of whom were adults. His youngest daughter, Abbey, was the only one still at home. The Parsons family moved into the Dissell home on Park Road. In June of the next year, the youngest Dissell son, Henry, passed away at the age of 11. Just one month before the loss of Ethel, Alonzo's twenty year old daughter, Anna, passed away.

In 1913, when Alonzo and Anna were married, Anna's children were Edward (24), James (23), Richmond (18), Ethel (14), Henry (11), and Christine (5). Alonzo's children were Florence (29), Franklin (22), Anna (20), and Abbey (12). He had also lost three children at very young ages. 

While the story of the Dissell/Parsons clan isn't necessarily a happy one, I was happy to see that the young Abbey Parsons later married Richmond Dissell. They named their daughter Ethel Christine in honor of his lost sibling and her friend.

Albert Mirzwienski

Albert Mirzwienski (his name is spelled in a multitude of ways- this is the family spelling on Ancestry.com) was found via the Hartford Courant in an article entitled, “Elmwood Man Held Without Bail for Killing Workman”.  

On July 7, 1915, Albert Mirzwienski went to work at the Whitlock Coil Pipe Company just as he had each workday for twelve years.  Unfortunately, an ongoing quarrel with a former friend, John Maruszak, would come to a head that afternoon and Albert would be dead within hours.

The article dated July 9, 1915 tells of Maruszak’s confession “which is in Polish” and the details of which were “not given out”. Apparently, the men were good friends until about 1912, even sharing a two-family home on New Britain Avenue. A witness to an event years before said that, “there had been quarreling over chickens”.  Maruszak and his family had moved to South Street several months before Albert's death. The details that are given state that on the 7th of July, Mirzwienski told  a coworker that Maruszak was “a devil”. An altercation took place, which witnesses could not make out completely, and Maruszak ended by hitting Mirzwienski with a club.

Maruszak went back to work, and paid no notice to Mirzwienski , who was barely conscious on the floor. Other workers brought the injured man to a floor office, then to a local hospital.  Mirzwienski died after an operation to stop the bleeding and swelling in his brain.  Maruszak was arrested that evening. He was first charged with assault, but the charge was changed to manslaughter after Mirzwienski died.

These are the basic facts laid out by the Courant. An article in the Hartford Times offers similar information.   There is no mention of Mirzwienski wife’s name, just that he was married and left her with four children. No subsequent articles could be found about Maruszak’s trial, or what happened to their families after the attack.  The court records from the trial, found in the State Library, stated very little. Maruszak was found “not guilty” of manslaughter and was given a fine of $100.  This could have been up to two months worth of wages.

It seems that both men were immigrants, and very little is known about either of them other than what was found in the Courant.  I was unable to find records of them or their families arriving at Ellis Island, no census records, and no death records and/or obituaries for either of them.

Mary Bissell Estey Part 2

Apparently, I needed a break from Mary! So here were are at Mary Bissell Estey Part 2!

And now, the exciting conclusion... ;)

Elias Ives came around the corner of the house and shot John right in the chest. Mary heard the shot and thought McGuire had fired at the house. She screamed and ran downstairs into the dining room. In the dining room, Mrs. Sedgwick cried out that John was shot. Mary spoke to Ives, saying, “‘What is the matter?’ to which he replied, “I’ve shot him”. Mary said, “If he ain’t dead he’ll be to and kill all of us”. Ives walked over to the corpse carrying his pistol, in case John was"playing opossum”.  According to a newspaper article about the trial, “[The body] was about two feet from the gate, inside the yard; [it] lay out on the back; the limbs were somewhat drawn up; the hands lay by the side”.

After making sure John was dead, Ives ran to the local constable's house and brought him back to the farmhouse. Ives was arrested for the murder of John McGuire and brought to the Hartford County Jail.

The next morning, while West Hartford’s residents amassed at the schoolhouse, Mary, Ives, Parsons, and Hartford detective Cowles traveled to Hartford in search of attorney S.F. Jones. As Jones was unavailable until Monday, the group returned to the Bissell farm, where Ives prepared to spend the weekend in jail. When Mary found that he would not be staying at the house, she said, "What, going to jail?" she exclaimed; "You've done nothing," and began to weep”.

At this point, Mary seems to have been hysterical, giving Ives “a bag of doughnuts and a pint of gin” and asking him if he wanted strawberries for tea, while becoming increasingly confused as to the sequence of the evening’s events. A newspaper reporter was in attendance at the house that morning, and quoted Mary as saying that she, “said it was a wonder that she was not crazy, she had gone through so much trouble”.

Elias N. Ives arrest warrant, June 12, 1877.

Ives went through three separate trials, one to decide whether he should be charged with murder in the first degree, one for murder in the first degree, and one for manslaughter. He was found not guilty of all charges. 

Mary went on to live a long life after the events of 1877. The story of her second husband will be the subject of an upcoming post.

If you're interested in learning more about this particular story, it just happens that I was so obsessed that I wrote my Master's thesis on Mary. Click here to read more.

James Wallace Pine, Poet

Partially reprinted from an article I wrote for The Spectator, the Noah Webster House's member newsletter in 2009.

Oh, summer, how lovely,

The forest so green,

Does wave in wild splendor

Wherever it’s seen.

Though autumn’s harsh breeze

Of it’s beauty has slain,

Sweet summer has come

And restored it again.

When farewell I shall say

To this splendid scene,

The forest all clad

In its foliage so green;

When my labors shall cease

And at rest I am laid,

Let me lie in the forest,

That beautiful shade.

From “Sweet Forest Shade”

Written in 1906 by James Pine

Connecticut Poet James Wallace Pine was born in Danbury, CT in 1839. When he died in West Hartford in 1907, the Hartford Courant noted that he was, “one of the best known colored men hereabouts.” Pine’s fame came from his involvement in the community and from his two published works- “The Pilgrim’s Hope; and Other Poems” and “Shadows of the Evergreen, or Poems for the Gay and Merry, and for the Lonely and Desponding”. “The Pilgrim’s Hope” is available at the Connecticut Historical Society, as well as on Google Books. It is unknown as to whether any copies of “Shadows of the Evergreen” exist today.

While he lived in Danbury, Pine was licensed to preach (but was not ordained) and acted as a substitute preacher in Danbury, as well as in surrounding towns. After moving to West Hartford, he became well known as the public gravedigger and was sexton (“a church officer or employee who takes care of the church property and performs related minor duties”) for a brief time. He was also the Selectman of Public Cemeteries during a period after January 1903. 

According to the Hartford Courant, Pine’s “one great hope” was that he should be able to own his own home before he died. In an article dated May 19, 1903, a statement reads, “work resumed upon Rev. James W. Pine’s house on Fern St”. Apparently, a Mr. F.C. Benedict had given Pine the piece of property in 1901. He was able to realize his dream just before he died, “through the interest of his friends”. The property was known as Lot 105 on the south side of Fern Street in West Hartford Heights.

Pine's property is outlined in red. The current home there was built in 1939. Geneva Avenue is and was known as Arundel Avenue.

James Pine passed away on Tuesday, June 11, 1907. When he died, he left his wife, Hannah, and six grown children.

The Steele Orphans

Our next story is that of one of the many Steele families of West Hartford. My search began with this clip from the Hartford Daily Courant: 

"Truly Melancholy.- Died, very suddenly, yesterday morning, in West Hartford, Mr. Mason Steel, aged 41, and within two hours of his decease, his wife, aged 36, expired, having recently given birth to an infant, which died the day previous. Thus in a short space of a few hours, the father, mother, and child, in the same house, lay cold in death. About two weeks ago, they buried a very interesting daughter, aged 16. They had generally enjoyed excellent health, and a few weeks since their prospects of long life were as fair as any of us. Truly, in the midst of life we are in death. By this dispensation of Providence, six little children are left orphans."

Mason and Caroline share a headstone which lies flat beside that of their daughter, Nancy Jane. They are buried in West Hartford's historic North Cemetery.

This was one of those stories that I couldn't stop researching until I had all the details. How did Mason, Caroline, her infant, and Nancy Jane all die in such a short span of time?  And what happened to their surviving six children?

Discovering the answers was a far more complex process than I originally thought. First of all, information from the 1840s isn't always easy to find. The 1840 census is the last one that doesn't list the names of family members. It just lists the head of the household (usually a man) and the number of people in the household who are male or female, black or white, slave or free, and what their ages are within a decade. It does not make for simple searches. I spent several years going back to the Steeles, finding and adding more information until I finally found them all. The six orphaned children are listed below, and I will tell you each of their stories in as much detail as I can.

Frederick (15)

Mary Ann (12)

Sarah (9)

Henry (8)

Horace (5)

Lucy (2) 

When I did a probate record search for Mason Steele, it turned out that each of his surviving children had a page in the records. In these records, Benjamin Belden, John Belden, Walter Deming, Gideon Deming, Morgan Goodwin, and William Goodwin, all of West Hartford, were assigned in pairs by the court to act as the guardians for the six children. These days, guardianship of children means that they are placed in your care- they live with you and you care for them. Nineteenth Century guardianship was very different. These men were in charge of the money that would keep the children - and they were paid an annual fee to do it.

Sadly, the day their parents died was the last that the children would all live under the same roof. The evidence of their whereabouts is scanty, but from the probate records, I found that from 1843 to about 1846, Horace was boarded at the home of Bela Balch in West Hartford and Henry lived at the home of a Mrs. E. Steel, to whom I could find no relation to the children. 

“To cash paid Mrs. E. Steel for one years board from Sept. 1st 1843 to Sept. 1st 1844” “To cash paid Mrs. E. Steel for Board for H.B. Steel”

So this treasure trove of information gave me a look into the lives of the six Steeles. In addition to noting Henry's boarding fees, a note was made that Walter Deming should be paid for “...time spent in getting him a place”. The same note was made for Mary Ann, while Frederick was given cash to cover the expenses for a trip to Boston and for Sarah to take a trip to Southbridge, MA.

While this information looks neat and clean now, I found the probate documents after I spent several years tracking down all of Caroline's and Mason's siblings and living family members in an attempt to find the children. Since the census information wasn't always correct, it took some finagling to find them in the 1850 census. By searching for their names, places of birth, and ages, I was finally able to do so, despite Mary Ann and Sarah being listed as having been born in Massachusetts, and Lucy being listed as Lucy Whitehouse (for her adoptive parents).

In 1850, the children were:

Frederick (23): Working as a shoemaker in Newark, NJ. 

Mary Ann (20): In Southbridge, MA with their maternal aunt Polly Wheat, who was unmarried and had no children.

Sarah (17): Also in Southbridge with Polly Wheat.

Henry (16): Living with Benjamin Belden's family in West Hartford.

Horace (13): Living with Milton Braman's family in West Hartford. 

Lucy (10): Living with maternal aunt Emeline (Wheat) Whitehouse and her husband, George, who had no children of their own.

In 1860, the children were:

Frederick (33): 

Mary Ann (30): In Southbridge, MA with their maternal aunt Polly Wheat, who was unmarried and had no children.

Sarah (27): Also in Southbridge with Polly Wheat.

Henry (26): Living with Benjamin Belden's family in West Hartford.

Horace (23): Living with Milton Braman's family in West Hartford. 

Lucy (20): Living with her adoptive parents, working as a seamstress in Southbridge, MA.

Just like Anne Shirley and Harry Potter, the Steele orphans moved on from their tragedy and lived full lives.

Frederick married Jennette Clark and it seems they had no children. He died in 1894 and his wife in 1908. They are buried in Hartford's Old North Cemetery.

Research on Mary Ann is ongoing (updates some day!)

Sarah married Daniel Ward Richmond and they had three sons. They lived in New York City and she passed away in 1905. Her obituary from The Christian Advocate is below. Sarah has living descendants.

As mentioned in Sarah's obituary, Henry lived in Wales, MA when he passed away in 1918. He and his wife Matilda had four children and have many living descendants. 

Horace married Julia Walker in 1859, with whom he had one son. Each subsequent generation seems to have had one male child to carry on the Steele name. Horace still has living descendants in Connecticut.

Lucy Steele Whitehouse married Julius Gleason and died at the age of 42. They had one daughter, Carrie, who married but had no children.

Many of the Steele orphans' descendants have no idea that their ancestors went through such a harrowing time as children.