UNWANTED: A MURDER MYSTERY OF THE GILDED AGE
By Andrew Young
Pen & Sword Press (Westholme Publishing). 268 pages. £15.99.
ISBN 978-59416-246-6
Reviewed by Jim Burns

Cincinnati, Ohio
was in, 1896, a major city. It stood on the north side of the
confluence of the Licking and Ohio rivers. and on the opposite side, in Kentucky, were the smaller cities of
Covington
and Newport,
which tried to assert their own characters, but were generally seen
as part of what was known as Greater Cincinnati. Andrew Young says
that Cincinnati
was in slow decline in importance as other cities, such as Cleveland
and Chicago, grew in size and, thanks to the development of the rail
network and other factors, outstripped
Cincinnati.
But he adds that it was still reasonably prosperous and
“there was ready work in the tan yards, breweries, and factories”.
Like any large conurbation, Greater Cincinnati had its seamy side,
but it came as a shock when, in January, 1896, a fourteen year-old
boy taking a short cut across a field to his place of employment,
which was actually within the boundaries of Newport, stumbled across
the body of a headless woman. The police were called, reporters
arrived quickly, and so did crowds of people who trampled the area
around the body and picked up anything that they thought might serve
as a souvenir of the scene. Their macabre enthusiasm even extended
to plucking bloodstained leaves from the bushes where the body was
found.
There was nothing to immediately identify the woman. With the head
missing it was impossible to circulate a picture of some sort, or
even a description. Fingerprinting was then in its infancy and, in
any case, would only have been of use if the dead person’s
fingerprints were on file somewhere. The police were baffled.
A post-mortem revealed that the woman was pregnant, and there
were traces of large amounts of cocaine in her stomach. At that time
it was believed that cocaine could help in inducing a miscarriage.
It was initially suggested that she might have been a prostitute.
The area where the body was found was known to be used by
prostitutes and soldiers from a nearby army post. But checks on
soldiers didn’t produce any useful information.
To add to the confusion, there were disagreements among officials
who visited the scene of the crime, and also examined the body,
about whether the woman had been killed in the field, or had died
elsewhere and then moved. Bloodhounds were used to try to locate the
victim’s head, and a nearby reservoir was drained, but to no avail.
It had been noted that the head appeared to have been severed from
the body with a certain amount of skill, and that suggested someone
with a degree of medical knowledge. A Dr Kettner came under
suspicion. He had a history of bigamy and one of his wives seemed to
have disappeared. It looked like a promising scenario, but
eventually came to nothing. There were other false trails as the
usual oddballs, who turn up with wild ideas about crimes, came and
went.
The breakthrough came not because of any police investigations, but
due to the actions of Louis D.Poock, the owner of a Cincinnati shoe-shop. The
local papers had highlighted the bizarre nature of the crime and, in
their reports, had referred to, among other things, the shoes the
woman wore: “They were a pair of black cloth-topped dress shoes size
3 ½”. He asked if he
could see the body, which had been taken to a morgue in the city,
and then looked at the shoes.
Poock noted that the shoes were of good quality, and from his
knowledge of the shoe trade ascertained that they “had the
appearance of having been made by some manufacturer in
Cincinnati,
Ohio, or that vicinity”. He’d also
noticed that the woman had feet that were webbed between the toes.
But it was the shoes that intrigued him most of all. In his
experience not too many cloth-topped shoes of that size were made
and sold. And as shoes had numbers stamped inside them to show where
they came from, he reasoned that he might be able to track down the
manufacturer and who the shoes were supplied to. It needs to be
borne in mind that shoe shops in the 1890s often catered for
customers who were measured for fittings and the shoes then
specifically ordered for them.
It was thanks to Poock’s efforts that information came to light that
enabled the police to ascertain the woman’s identity, and eventually
arrest her killers. What happened next is fully detailed by Young as
witnesses, not all of them reliable, came forward, and evidence was
accumulated. The case had attracted national interest and provided
material for sensational journalism guaranteed to arouse emotional
responses in readers.
The crime, its background in terms of the people involved, and the
activities of Poock and the police, obviously make for an
interesting story in itself. But Young is concerned to place what
happened in a wider context. As noted earlier,
Cincinnati
was a city that had prospered in the nineteenth century, and even
though it was slowly sliding in importance, it still had a
reasonably large population and could boast some signs of being more
than just an industrial centre. As Young notes: “With parks, zoo,
and a great music hall, it became known to some as the `Paris
of the Midwest’ “. Charles Dickens,
when he visited America in 1842, spoke of it
favourably, though that was admittedly when it was in its heyday.
On the other hand, the 1890s, even in areas such as Greater
Cincinnati, could always throw up examples of what might be called
“frontier justice”. When the killers were arrested in
Cincinnati
itself, the authorities in
Newport, where the body had been found,
insisted that their trial should be held there. There were then
worries that, because feelings were running high due to the way in
which journalists had written about the case, a lynch mob in Newport might take matters
into its own hands and not wait for a trial. Young discusses the
prevalence of lynching, especially in the South where it was usually
blacks who suffered from mob rule, but it wasn’t unknown for white
criminals to also experience it.
Prior to the identities of the killers being established there had
been suspicions that tramps may have been responsible for the
woman’s death. There were wide concerns with regard to tramps, who
were seen as “an unsavoury group, prone to committing crimes”. Young
says that, “In 1896 there was nothing particularly romantic about
tramps. They were either hard-luck drifters or angry rabble; they
were a social problem that lacked a solution”.
And the “Great Panic” of 1893 had caused mass unemployment,
which increased the number of men wandering the country in search of
work. In 1894, Jacob S. Coxey, a wealthy and eccentric
Ohio
businessman, led what was termed “Coxey’s Army” in a march on Washington to demand that the government
bring in a programme of public works. Some people looked on “Coxey’s
Army” as a kind of crusade, but others saw it as allowing a large
body of shiftless men to beg and steal their way to the capital.
Coxey’s crusade, if that’s what it was, soon petered out when his
“army” largely drifted away.
Some tramps were arrested in connection with the headless body
crime, but were quickly released once it became obvious that they
were innocent.
Fear of tramps was often aroused by reports of their habits and
activities by the press. Sensational journalism was the order of the
day, and it was certainly in evidence in connection with the Cincinnati murder. What is striking is the
degree to which reporters were given access to crime scenes and
criminals. They were frequently present when suspects were
questioned by police, and were able to report in detail about what
was said. Names and descriptions were widely printed in newspapers.
This led to problems later when witnesses were asked to identify
people they claimed to have observed at
certain times and in certain places. They were likely to pick out
someone whose features they’d seen in a newspaper. It didn’t assure
the accused of receiving a fair trial.
It’s more than probable that the police did eventually arrest the
right people responsible for the death of the young woman involved.
And she was young and only in her early-twenties. The fact of her
pregnancy gives Young an opportunity to write about attitudes
towards unmarried mothers, abortion, and sexual mores generally. The
fluid state of American society at that time led to a mixture of
restrictive social laws, written or unwritten, clashing with new
ideas about women’s emancipation and mobility. Practices acceptable
in cities were not necessarily tolerated in small towns and rural
areas. And the age-old problem of relatively naïve young women being
exploited by more-sophisticated men also played a part in what
happened.
Unwanted
is both an intriguing crime story and a social document with
interesting things to say about aspects of American society in the
late-nineteenth century. Andrew Young has dug up a wealth of primary
documentation from newspapers and other publications of the period,
along with informative general background material. He also writes
clearly and to the point.
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