execution - Maine Ghost Hunters

[1775] Augusta, Maine’s First Murder

Maine Ghost Hunters — Thu, 05 Mar 2026 14:16:50 +0000

[1775] Augusta, Maine’s First Murder

September 24, 1775 – a time when Augusta was little more than Fort Western and its military inhabitants – right here near the Eastern bank of the Kennebec River occurred the city’s very first recorded murder. The murder was perpetrated by a man named Private James McCormick on a fellow soldier named Reuben Bishop.

James McCormick, sometimes misprinted as ‘John’ in historical documents, was a private in Captain Goodrich’s company. He was described as a simple and ‘ignorant’, yet ‘peaceable’ man from North Yarmouth, Maine.

Reuben Bishop, on the other hand, was born on November 2, 1740 in Amherst, Massachusetts. He married his cousin Hannah in New London, Connecticut in 1761 and was the father of five sons. He was commissioned as an ensign in 1771 and served as a sergeant under Benedict Arnold’s command of 1,100 men. Bishop was described as “a civil, well-behaved and much beloved young man.”

So what happened on that fate ful night? The regiment had spent the day getting 1,110 troops and provisions to Fort Western from Gardiner. Despite the fact it was cold and rainy, most men at Fort Western slept either outside without any covering at all, or outside under crude structures they made for themselves with the extremely limited resources available to them. However, some of the men were lucky enough, or ranked highly enough, that they found themselves bedding down either in the Fort where Captain William Howard resided, or at Captain James Howard’s residence known as “The Great House”, or … at a nearby house where Captain Daniel Savage resided.

Inside these houses it was warm and there were good fires going. Being inside was important because it was raining and cold outside. At some point in the night John McCormick – who was initially inside the house of Daniel Savage with other soldiers (mostly Captains in the regiment), became very drunk and belligerent. He got into a fight with Captain Goodrich and was kicked out.

A short time later McCormick returned to that house and made a ruckus loud enough that Captain Simeon Thayer opened the door and yelled at McCormick to knock it off. McCormick responded by shooting at the door. After McCormick shot his gun toward the house Captain Thayer woke up Captain Topham for help. Captain Topham yelled out to McCormick to knock it off.

McCormick seemed to have left so Thayer said he and Topham went back to bed. But McCormick returned ‘pre-dawn’ the following morning, unlatched the door and fired off a random shot into the house which hit Reuben Bishop who was laying down by the fire at the hearth. McCormick said he was aiming to shoot Captain Goodrich but he missed and hit Bishop instead.

Reuben Bishop lingered in agony – hemorrhaging internally – for almost 12 hours before finally dying. Many of the men wrote in their journals that Bishop was in agony and fear over dying. It struck the men deeply. Reuben Bishop was treated by Dr. Isaac Senter.

And what happened to John/James McCormick? He panicked after he realized what he did, and bolted. He swam across the river in an attempt to make his getaway but a sentry (a sergeant) saw him running through the area and stopped him. The Sergeant thought he was a deserter and quickly surmised he was guilty of something by the way he was acting. He took McCormick in to be questioned and eventually the truth was revealed.

McCormick swore he didn’t intentionally kill Reuben Bishop and stuck to his story that he intended to shoot Captain Goodrich, the man he had a fight with the night before. Apparently it was quite the row. He was tried by court martial, found guilty of murder, and condemned to hang on September 26, 1775 according to Caleb Haskell’s diary.

Soldiers built the gallows and McCormick was brought to stand before the entire company of men with a halter around his neck, at Fort Western, for about a half hour. The entire time he was professing his innocence. The chaplain had a quiet chat with McCormick and he finally found it within himself to confess.

Colonel Benedict Arnold stayed the execution and made arrangements for McCormick to be transported on the schooner “Broad Bay” to Boston so General Washington could pass final judgment. Colonel Arnold recommended mercy and hoped Washington would agree. He wrote, “I wish he may be found a proper subject of mercy.”

McCormick’s execution was stayed and he was sent to a military prison in Boston where he died of natural causes.

So where is Reuben Bishop buried? He was initially buried just outside the Fort’s burying ground which is somewhere at the East end of the bridge – so near the road on the Fort Western side of the bridge or over where the old Jail was – where the senior living facility is currently. He was disinterred and moved into the Fort burying ground but Willow Street runs over his burial site. So he may have been moved, again, up to Riverside Cemetery on Bangor Street.

The post [1775] Augusta, Maine’s First Murder first appeared on Maine Ghost Hunters.

[1835] The Last Execution in Kennebec County

Maine Ghost Hunters — Thu, 02 Oct 2025 22:24:56 +0000

Joseph J. Sager and Phoebe Sager

Joseph and Phoebe Sager were a middle aged couple residing in the city of Gardiner when the unfortunate incident involving Phoebe’s death, occurred. Phoebe was a 48 year old milliner and dressmaker at the time of her death, and 36 year old Joseph was a saddle and harness maker, and a shop worker. While Phoebe was often sick, she was also known to have a drinking problem that wasn’t at all under control. On the day of her death she fell violently ill after drinking a wine and egg mixture Joseph prepared for her, to have with her breakfast. A local doctor was summoned to help her, but despite his best efforts to help her over the course of the following 6+ hours, he could do nothing to alleviate the excruciatingly painful episodes of unstoppable vomiting, including “bloody vomit”, and she eventually died; the date of her death was October 5, 1834.

Phoebe repeatedly told people who were present with her, during her final few hours, that her husband made her drink the wine concoction. He insisted she drink it, and finish it. This caused the physician to become immediately suspicious. He then noticed a white powder residue in the wine decanter she drank from that morning, and also in the container that held the cream that was added to the wine. His suspicions would eventually lead to a startling discovery.

Another very important person in the murder case against Joseph Sager was a young woman named Ann Rafter. Ann Rafter was a Catholic servant of the Sager household at the time of Phoebe’s untimely passing. During this time in Maine’s history anti-Catholic sentiment was at its height. Catholics were persecuted, ostracized, vilified, and openly discriminated against.

Irish Catholic, Ann Rafter, became the principal witness in the case.

Joseph Sager accused Ann, their house servant, of poisoning Phoebe and there was rumored to be an actual confession by Ann, herself, to that effect but it was never found in any of the documentation or evidence.

But… … another compelling rumor was floating around that she never went to confession again after the trial.

Determining Phoebe was murdered

After Mrs. Sager died her body was sent off for an autopsy. The Doctor present at the time of her death had collected the cream container that had the white residue in it and requested the medical examiner send the contents of Mrs. Sager’s stomach to be analyzed, along with the residue, to Professor Cleaveland at Bowdoin Medical School.

Both contained arsenic.

Trial and Execution

The case of the ‘State of Maine vs. Joseph J. Sager’ started on Tuesday October 23, 1834 when Sager pleaded “not guilty” to the charges of murdering his wife.

The facts of the case were presented as follows;

Joseph Sager, aged 36, was accused of killing his 48 year old wife – Phoebe – by poisoning part of her breakfast – a drink he prepared for her made of wine, an egg, and white sugar. The visiting Dr. sent to treat Phoebe noticed the wine carafe she drank from at breakfast had a white sediment in it. The cream container on the dining table also had this sediment in it so the Dr. saved it and had it tested. The sediment was found to be arsenic, leading to a charge of murder against her husband Joseph.

Two Judges presided over the trial simultaneously, as Maine law at the time stated if the life of a person was at stake during a trial it was to be done with 2 Judges sitting on the bench. The 2 Judges were; Chief Justice Nathan Weston and Judge Albion Paris, who had also served as Maine’s 5^th Governor.

Prosecuting attorneys on behalf of the state were; Attorney General – Nathaniel Clifford (a future Justice of the US Supreme Court) and County Prosecuting Attorney – James W. Bradbury (a future US Senator).

The Legal Defense Attorneys on behalf of Joseph J. Sager were; the Honorable Peleg Sprague, who was the Primary Defense attorney and a current, sitting, US Senator from Maine, at the time; Frederick Allen; and George W. Bacheldor. Court proceedings were held in the old South Church in Augusta, Maine. Oliver Bean of Readfield was the jury foreman.

Joseph J. Sager was found “GUILTY” of the murder of his wife Phoebe Sager by a jury of his peers on Monday October 27, 1834, just 22 short days after her passing. Judge Weston sentenced Sager to death by hanging with the date of the execution to be carried out on Friday January 2, 1835 at the corner of State Street and Winthrop Street in Augusta.

The Trial was a full-house sensation every single day. The courthouse was mobbed with people and no seat was left open. The balcony was full, too.

Joseph J. Sager collapsed into his chair when the “guilty” verdict was read. He was sweating, shaking, and sort of hyperventilating. His representation filed a motion for a new trial based on the claim that material evidence had been suppressed at the trial but the motion was denied

The day of Joseph Sager’s execution, Friday January 2, 1835, was a very cold, snowy, and windy one.

The hanging took place at the gallows in Augusta on the corner of Winthrop and State Streets near the Southwest corner of the jail. Sager was Llkely walked from the jail, across the street to “Winthrop Street Square” where the gallows was erected.

His very last words were “Gentlemen, I am innocent” with a little hitch in the word “innocent” when they tightened the rope around his neck.

The Controversy

The controversy surrounding Joseph J. Sager’s execution had a lot to do with his persistent claims of innocence. Sager claimed his innocence until the very end, even blaming Ann Rafter, the family’s Irish servant for the murder of Phoebe; anti-catholic rhetoric was all the rage among certain political groups during this time, and so blaming an Irish Catholic girl was seen as quite the tactic of desperation. His claims of innocence persisted even though he had been caught pre-meditating his wife’s death on a number of occasions. One example of this was when he told a Kennebec River Steamboat crew member he knew that he’d be a widow soon. Not only did he say this with an odd sort of exciting anticipation, he actually handed this friend a hand written list of women he thought he might be interested in once his wife passes.

Another curious bit of circumstantial evidence that didn’t bode well for his case was that Joseph encouraged Phoebe to drink all of the liquid mixture he mixed for her, telling her “the goodness being all at the bottom” in the carafe the arsenic was found. The only witness to this act, however, was by their servant, Ann Rafter which, of course, Sager had a vested interest in discrediting. Another subject of controversy was that most newspaper articles and historical documentation said the Dr. who tended to Phoebe, as she lay dying, took a container with the arsenic in it with the intent of having it tested and studied by proper authorities, but curiously, there was also the rarer mention that it was Ann Rafter who was said to have carried out this deed. And one doesn’t likely need to be told how much of a conflict of interest it would be if Rafter actually *was* the one in possession of the carafe with the white powder in it, as she was considered the prosecution’s star witness and her influential testimony led to the hanging of Joseph J. Sager.

The Hanging of Joseph Sager

The gallows was constructed near the Southwest corner of the Kennebec County jail. There were between 8,000 and 12,000 people present to view the hanging. To give you a rough idea of what this might look like, in person; in 1830 the population of Augusta was 3,980. In 1840 the population of Augusta was 5,314. This was 1835. So, this singular area of the city of Augusta was a convergence point of 8,000 to 12,000 people – which is easily two, to three times, the population of the entire city at the time – all standing in one small space at the same time.

That day the weather was horrible – snowy, windy, cold, and raw. The crowd was belligerent – men were drinking until ‘plastered’ and treated this execution like it was some sort of entertainment. There were also lots of women, elderly, sick, and children present. People traveled from great distances and spent the night to see the hanging.

There were armed soldiers present – the Augusta Light Infantry – surrounding the gallows. The day was chaotic and at many times, a dangerous place to be. A sea of 8,000-12,000 people pushing forward toward the gallows, to the point the soldiers had to get under the platform for safety. In one instance, someone hollered “FIRE!” which caused the mob to panic.

Militia situated themselves to guard the gallows and then the Sheriff and 2 deputies went to Sager’s cell to bring him to the hanging spot. The Sheriff saluted Joseph Sager at his cell – it’s said to make him feel better about this situation. Joseph didn’t put up any kind of fight and when they led him to the gallows he was carrying the noose on his own right arm.

When this all started just 3 and a half months earlier in October of 1834, Sager was ‘built’ physically. He was a man with physical stature. But, by the day of his hanging he’d lost so much weight he was almost unrecognizable.

Sager’s last words proclaimed his innocence. He wrote them down but had to have been in a state of utter panic when doing so, and so the words were just a mash-up of incoherent gibberish basically pleading for his life. They were read by Reverend Benjamin Tappan who then turned to the crowd and warned them, basically, not to live a life that would lead to this. To look at Joseph Sager and to understand that life choices can have serious life consequences.

Joseph Sager’s mother was in the courthouse begging Governor Dunlap and his advisors to stay the execution, to no avail. Where they were situated inside the courthouse offered them a vantage point with a good view of the gallows when the execution was taking place. Joseph firmly believed his mother’s pleas would save his life.

A Quaker from The Society of Friends in Fairfield also made his way into the Governor’s presence to beg for Sager’s life but the Governor was too busy watching the crowd and the gallows that he didn’t even make eye contact with the gentleman.

George W. Stanley was the Kennebec County Sheriff at the time, and he was responsible to drop Sager where he stood on the platform.

Stanley led Sager to the platform, let his last words be spoken, then put a black hood over Sager, adjusted the noose, took his hand and humanely said “goodbye”. When Sager proclaimed his innocence Stanley told him “this is now a matter between you and your god”. Stanley then walked down the gallows steps and slashed the rope holding Sager in place.

When the trap door was released the words “sickening thud” were used to describe the ‘drop’ and it’s thought he died instantly.

Sager dropped over 10 feet and then just hung, twirling around lifeless, as people gawked – for 20 minutes before his friends and family were allowed to cut his body down and carry it off to be given a proper burial. Dr. Franklin Gage declared him dead. He was lowered onto a horse sled and driven as fast as possible to Hallowell.

The Mystery

Joseph Sager’s body was rushed off in a hurry, to Hallowell, where his friends had a master plan of electrocuting him back to life. The concept they planned to use on him was a much misunderstood version of “galvanism”. Galvanism is named after an Italian doctor named Luigi Galvani – a man who hooked up a dead frog to an electrical charge, and witnessed the legs moving. It was the basis for the plotline in Frankenstein when the mad scientist brings the monster to life by electrocuting it into reanimation.

These efforts failed, of course, and Sager was buried in a secret location on an island in one of the ponds in Winthrop. 50 Years later, January 2, 1885 a newspaper article printed by the Daily Kennebec Journal specified Joseph Sager was buried on Horse-Shoe Island in Cobbosseecontee Pond.

But still, there were people who persisted in their belief that he was brought back to life and ushered out of the state by friends & family, escaping to Texas to live out the remainder of his natural life.

Some say if you go to the spot Sager was hung and you ask aloud “Sager, for what were you hanged?” a voice would reply “nothing”. So this question of his innocence or guilt was clearly in the collective conscious of the local community.

This hanging bothered people and was ultimately the last execution ever conducted in Kennebec County.

The post [1835] The Last Execution in Kennebec County first appeared on Maine Ghost Hunters.

[1883] Maine’s Last Execution

Maine Ghost Hunters — Thu, 05 Jun 2025 23:04:12 +0000

[1883] Maine’s Last Execution

Synopsis

In the dead of night on September 3, 1883, a daring burglary attempt at the D.C. Gould Ship Chandlery and Provisions Store in Bath, Maine ended in tragedy when Daniel Wilkinson and his accomplice John Elliot were caught in the act. In a desperate attempt to escape, Wilkinson collided with Constable William Lawrence and without hesitation, shot Lawrence in the head with a .32 caliber revolver. The shocking events that followed would change the course of history in Maine.

Daniel Wilkinson and William Lawrence

Daniel Wilkinson was a man of elusive origins and enigmatic demeanor. Born in 1845 in London, he was thought to have been raised in an educated, financially well-off, family of faith. Daniel guarded the identity of his mother and father with unwavering secrecy until the day he died, leaving no trace for curious minds to follow. While he claimed his father worked as a tradesman, whispers among friends, acquaintances, and former workmates suggested a more prestigious connection—a clergyman, perhaps. Even his own brother, thought to be a missionary in India, was a story Daniel vehemently denied ever telling anyone. Restless and rebellious, Daniel Wilkinson’s thirst for adventure led him to run away from home at age 14, forsaking formal education in favor of life at sea, a decision that would eventually lead him to the shores of New England and the beginnings of a life of crime he wouldn’t live long enough to escape.

It was during his time in Thomaston State Prison, where fate would ultimately catch up with him, that Daniel revealed conflicting aspects of his character. He confided in a guard, claiming to have been raised as an Episcopalian, only to defy such beliefs openly, asserting his agnostic stance.

With a balding head, round face, and a portly figure, Daniel Wilkinson bore the physical marks of a life lived. He attributed his baldness to a battle with smallpox, claiming that hair would never grow in the affected areas after his recovery. At the time of his death Daniel was 39 years old, 5 foot 7, and weighed 170 pounds. Although the precise details of his arrival in the United States remain shrouded in uncertainty, it is believed that Daniel Wilkinson made his way to America around 1860 or shortly thereafter. His true origins and the secrets he held close accompanied him to the gallows, forever entwined with his surreptitious persona.

Wilkinson’s partner-in-crime on that fateful night of September 3, 1883 was a young man by the name of John Elliot, sometimes misspelled as John “Ewitt”. John was a scruffy-faced 22 year old sailor who was very familiar with seaports along the eastern coastline. He knew how to navigate getting aboard different ships and knew the type of work needed to be done while at sea. He had skills when it came to keeping a low profile about himself, traveling unnoticed, and getting from place to place along the east coast. Young Elliot had moppy brown hair, bluish gray eyes, stood at 5 foot 6 inches tall, and weighed around 130 pounds. He and Daniel Wilkinson met while the two were in Philadelphia. They hit it off and decided to start working together, which eventually evolved into them traveling together from state to state, bouncing off seaport and pier jobs to working on rivers and in the lumber industry.

The two men on duty the night of Constable William Lawrence’s death were Officer Lawrence, himself, and a rookie by the name of officer Kingsley, who had only been on the job for about 2 months to this point. Not much has been published about either officer but we do know that locals referred to Constable Lawrence as “Uncle Billy” and that he was one of the oldest and most trusted members of the Bath Police Department. He was a married father of one and was also a seasoned sailor, having spent many years serving as a First Officer aboard working vessels before taking a job on land within the ranks of Bath law enforcement.

Wilkinson’s Life Before the Shooting

Daniel Wilkinson’s life before the fateful shooting was a turbulent journey marked by restlessness and criminal exploits. At the age of 14, he embarked on a life at sea, traveling the world and gaining notoriety as a free-spirited wanderer. Arriving in America around 1860, Daniel wandered along the East Coast, taking odd jobs without committing to any particular trade.

In the winter of 1872, after his release from prison, Wilkinson found work as a logger at a logging camp in Harpswell, Maine. It was during this time that a heated incident occurred involving a dog that Wilkinson claimed to have purchased from a man from Lewiston. When the man tracked down Wilkinson at the logging camp, a public spectacle ensued, with Wilkinson vehemently denying the theft of this dog in front of a crowd of eager onlookers. However, once the man left with his dog, Daniel admitted to stealing the dog and that he had planned to sell it for extra cash. Despite these events, his workmates regarded him as a good man and enjoyed his company.

Daniel Wilkinson’s criminal history was riddled with thefts and escapades. In 1866, he was arrested for the theft of wheat from a grist mill in Pittsfield. Though he maintained his innocence, evidence linked tracks from the mill to the logging camp where Wilkinson worked alongside a man named Simonds. Further investigation led the police to the Simonds residence, where they discovered Mrs. Simonds and her daughter wearing stolen jewelry. In a surprising turn of events, Mr. Simonds returned home with the sack full of stolen wheat while the police were still there questioning his wife. The wheat was in a sack with the name of the grist mill it was stolen from, printed on the outside for all to see. Wilkinson and Simonds were both arrested, but Simonds managed to escape by bribing a guard with $25 he had made from selling a cow he stole a short time prior. Wilkinson, on the other hand, confessed to multiple robberies committed across various towns and led the sheriff to a hidden stash of stolen goods. His admitted criminal spree extended across the state of Maine and included the towns of Palmyra, Newport, Dover, Hartland, Fairfield, Clinton, and Winthrop.

With a history that included prior convictions for burglary and breaking and entering, Wilkinson had already established a pattern of unlawful behavior. His grudge against the State of Maine intensified after his conviction for the wheat theft, solidifying his commitment to a life of crime. Wilkinson’s position was the State of Maine sentenced him to 7 years in prison for the theft of wheat from this grist mill – a crime he held firm he didn’t commit.

Sentenced to a total of 14 years in American prisons over a span of approximately 15 years spent in the United States, Daniel Wilkinson’s troubled past and criminal exploits foreshadowed the tragedy that awaited him.

The Shooting

On the fateful night of September 3, 1883, Bath, Maine was thrust into a grim spotlight as the stage for a haunting tragedy that would resonate through its streets for years to follow. Daniel Wilkinson and John Elliot meticulously planned their burglary, carefully scouting the Bath business district and locating a hidden spot on the outskirts of town, now known as “Murderer’s Cave,” to store their tools and loot. As midnight approached, veteran officer William Lawrence and rookie officer Kingsley embarked on their rounds, patrolling the unlit sidewalks of Front Street.

In the darkness, Officer Kingsley ventured down Front Street, turning onto Arch Street and then Commercial Street. It was there that he heard the unmistakable sound of a break-in at the D.C. Gould Ship Chandlery and Provisions Store, accompanied by hushed voices. Kingsley swiftly blew his whistle three times, signaling for Lawrence’s attention and warning the intruders to halt. Ignoring the officer’s commands, both men fled, with one defiantly questioning mid-stride – and with no intention of stopping- “You wouldn’t shoot, would you?” Kingsley fired a shot, intending it as a warning, resulting in Elliot and Wilkinson scattering in opposite directions. This warning shot prompted Daniel Wilkinson to cock his loaded .32 caliber revolver and to run with it in his hand until he was certain he was in the clear.

While Elliot vanished into the night, Wilkinson sought refuge in an alley, unbeknownst to him that Officer Lawrence’s path would soon intersect. Kingsley, determined to apprehend the criminals, attempted to track them down, running through the darkened streets. Suddenly, a gunshot shattered the silence, prompting Kingsley to hasten toward the sound. Struggling, as he ran in pitch-black darkness, he stumbled over Officer Lawrence’s lifeless body, sprawled facedown on the sidewalk. Officer “Uncle Billy” Lawrence had been shot in the head and left for dead.

Capturing Daniel Wilkinson

On September 11, 1883, the capture and arraignment of Daniel Wilkinson unfolded in a series of events that brought him to justice. The City of Bath, lacking its own detective staff, enlisted the services of two detectives from the Wiggin & Wood Detective Agency – led by James Rodney Wood, a retired police officer from Boston. These detectives were hired for a daily rate of $10, in addition to expenses.

Prior to his capture, Wilkinson and his accomplice, John Elliot, resided in a boarding house in Brunswick. A week before they burglarized a store in Bath, a break-in occurred at a local store in Brunswick. The burglars had utilized a distinct type of chisel, which was later discovered at the scene of the DC Gould Ship Chandlery and Provisions Store in Bath. Furthermore, peculiarly shaped matchsticks found at the crime scene matched those found among Wilkinson and Elliot’s belongings in the boarding house they had vacated.

Following their criminal activities, Elliot traveled to Portland to lay low for a while. However, he eventually returned to the Brunswick area and stayed at the same boarding house. Something must have alarmed Elliot, because he abruptly departed without settling his boarding bill and left behind his bag with all his possessions. These belongings were unequivocally identified as belonging to John Elliot.

Elliot vanished on September 5, 1883, and speculations emerged that he had fled to England, where he couldn’t be extradited. Within Elliot’s abandoned bag, the detectives discovered an item that indicated Bangor, Maine, as the likely destination for Elliot and Wilkinson’s next move.

Eleven days later, following the discovery of the bag, Wilkinson was apprehended. At the time, he was working for a logging company on one of the rivers in the Bangor area. The day Wilkinson was caught came as a great surprise to him and he wound up being quite belligerent and animated during his encounter with police. A frisk conducted by the detectives revealed a .32 caliber revolver on his person. Furthermore, Wilkinson carried a travel bag containing additional rounds for the gun, a can of gunpowder, and some fuses—tools commonly associated with thieves, burglars, and safe breakers.

Wilkinson was subsequently put on a train bound for Bath. During the journey, he confessed the entirety of his crimes to the officers accompanying him.

According to his confession, he and John Elliot were attempting to break into a store when they were discovered by the officers. In their attempt to escape, Wilkinson collided with Officer Lawrence, who had reached out to apprehend him. Remember Daniel was already running with a cocked and loaded gun in his hand because Officer Kingsley had fired his weapon at them with a ‘warning shot’. Startled by the collision with Officer Lawrence, Wilkinson fired his gun – shooting Lawrence in the head. Seizing the opportunity for a getaway, Wilkinson stepped over Lawrence’s body and vanished into the darkness.

Officer William Lawrence had died instantly, with a bullet lodged in the base of his brain.

After the shooting, Wilkinson sought refuge in the cave where he and Elliot had operated prior to the burglary. Expecting Elliot to join him there, Wilkinson waited for about an hour. However, Elliot failed to appear, forcing Wilkinson to accept that they had parted ways and would not be traveling together from that point onward.

Wilkinson devised an escape plan, dashing up High Street until he reached the water’s edge. He stole a boat with a broken oar and rowed it across the river, eventually finding the rail line. From there, he made his way on foot to the nearest railroad station in Wiscasset, where he boarded the first train heading to Rockland. He remained in Rockland, hiding and keeping a low profile until Tuesday. On that day, he boarded a steamer bound for Bangor, where he was apprehended shortly after his arrival.

Wilkinson’s capture carried a significant reward of $1,000, prompting seven men from Portland, Bangor, and Bath to apply for it once he was finally caught. Judge Libby presided over the case and determined that the reward would be divided equally among the seven men. Interestingly, the detectives directly involved in the case declined the $1,000 reward offered by Mayor James Ledyard, asserting that accepting it could very well prejudice the jury.

The Trial

The state presented a compelling case against Daniel Wilkinson during his trial for the murder of Officer Lawrence. The prosecution’s argument hinged on the fact that Wilkinson was carrying a gun, indicating premeditated intent to use it against anyone who stood in his way.

The trial began on Thursday, January 3, 1884, with Detective Wood taking the stand as the first witness. Wood testified that Wilkinson had voluntarily confessed everything about the break-in and the murder of Officer Lawrence during their train ride. Detective Wood told Daniel Wilkinson, directly, that he knew Daniel was the one who threw the can of gun powder through the window of the store they were breaking into. Wilkinson, being eager to outsmart the detective with all the little things he thought he knew about the burglary and subsequent murder – incriminated himself by correcting Detective Wood, clarifying that it was actually Elliot who threw the can of gunpowder during the break-in. Wilkinson claimed that they were startled by Officer Kingsley, who threatened to shoot them if they didn’t stop to be arrested.

Detective Wood recounted an incident at the police station in Bangor where Wilkinson initially gave his name as “Ward.” Wood informed him that his true identity was Daniel Wilkinson and revealed that he had previously escaped from jail in Bath while awaiting transport to the Maine State Prison in Thomaston for a term of 3 years regarding a completely separate case, but was now facing far more serious charges, including the murder of Officer Lawrence.

Wilkinson admitted that he and Elliot hadn’t stopped running away when Officer Kingsley commanded them to. He said Kingsley fired a shot at them so Wilkinson cocked his .32 caliber revolver, held it in an open hand, and did not stop running while doing so.

As they turned a corner onto Front St., Wilkinson collided with Officer Lawrence. The encounter took place in complete darkness, with no streetlights or alternative light sources present. Officer Lawrence placed his hands on Wilkinson’s shoulders and Wilkinson defensively raised his hands in response. However, In the midst of the moment he pulled the trigger, discharging the weapon, killing Lawrence instantly. The gun was so close to Officer Lawrence’s head his face was left blackened by the gunfire.

After the murder, Wilkinson fled back to the cave he and Elliot had used as their hideout previous to the burglary. He waited one hour for Elliot to meet up with him, and when that didn’t happen, he fled to the river. He found a flat-bottomed boat with a broken oar, paddled across the river, located the railroad tracks, and ran along them to Wiscasset. There, he boarded a train and learned about the murder in Bath from a newspaper. Wilkinson sought refuge in Rockland for two days before ultimately making his way to Bangor, where he was apprehended.

The prosecution called several witnesses to support their case. One witness was a saloon owner from Portland who overheard Wilkinson and Elliot discussing their activities in Bath. According to the saloon owner, Elliot told Wilkinson to choose another town for their operations since he was wanted by the police in Bath. Wilkinson told him not to worry, if anyone tried to arrest Elliot “he’d pull Charlie on them” then patted his right side at his hip where his gun was held.

Another witness was the proprietor of a boarding house in Portland where Wilkinson and Elliot had stayed two weeks before the murder. She received a letter from Wilkinson, asking her to send his bag to him in Bangor by boat, a week after the murder occurred.

During the trial, Wilkinson recanted his initial confession while on the stand, claiming that the detectives had coerced him into confessing with false information. His defense argued that Wilkinson had been deceived by the detectives, who claimed they had already apprehended Elliot and that a confession would benefit Wilkinson. According to Wilkinson, much of what he said in his confession, including the part about killing Lawrence, was a fabrication.

In an interesting turn of events, Bath Mayor James C. Ledyard independently visited Wilkinson and had a private conversation with him. In a low-stress environment, Mayor Ledyard asked Wilkinson if he had killed Officer Lawrence, to which Wilkinson quietly responded, “yes.” Wilkinson also voluntarily admitted the same crime to another person at the jail named H.A. Duncan.

The trial lasted four days, and on Monday, January 6, 1884, at 4:00 pm, the jury announced their verdict: Daniel Wilkinson was found guilty of first-degree murder. Spectators in the courtroom expressed satisfaction with the outcome. Surprisingly, Wilkinson appeared unaffected by the decision, leaving the courtroom with a smile on his face as he was remanded to Thomaston State Prison.

Wilkinson’s sentence was death by hanging, scheduled to take place on November 26, 1885, between 11:00 am and 2:00 pm.

Despite appeal attempts to have Daniel Wilkinson’s death sentence commuted, his requests for clemency were denied.

Nearing Execution Day

In the days immediately preceding the hanging Wilkinson found solace in pouring his troubled thoughts onto a paper. In his final letter to Belle Knowles, a cherished confidante from Augusta, he bared his soul, sharing the many things that burdened him and the thoughts that occupied his mind, all of which Belle had encouraged him to contemplate.

First and foremost, Wilkinson expressed his deep concern for Belle’s fragile heart condition, which seemed to defy improvement despite her unwavering strength. Belle had implored him to maintain hope and place his faith in God’s plan, but he admitted the difficulty he had with doing that. The constant scrutiny he endured was suffocating—every word he uttered and every action he took were scrutinized, eagerly seized upon by those seeking to exploit his predicament to suit their own agendas and preconceived notions about him and his case.

Knowing that his letters were likely being read added to his unease, leaving him unsure of how much privacy he truly possessed. Belle had also beseeched him to reveal his past, to share the depths of his experiences with her. However, Wilkinson confessed that he couldn’t fulfill this request. He agonized over the thought of his elderly parents discovering the manner in which he would meet his end, believing that the anguish would be so overwhelming it could potentially lead to their demise. The mere notion that he might be the cause of their suffering rendered life itself meaningless and unbearable to him.

In another correspondence, Wilkinson wrote to Lizzie, Belle’s 8 year old daughter, and disclosed a glimpse of how his life had spiraled into its current state. He spoke of his decision to run away from home, acknowledging that he should have stayed in school and pursued a different path. Instead, he found himself toiling away in salt mines, enduring the harsh realities of life at sea, working alongside lumbermen, and enduring the arduous labor of mills. He compared himself to a destitute, hungry dog, marginalized and judged by society, kicked to the curb rather than offered compassion and aid.

Wilkinson implored Lizzie to tap into her inherent humanity, to recognize the potential for goodness that resided within every wayward soul. It was Belle’s unwavering mission to help lost men rediscover their own humanity and, in doing so, find solace and connection with God through the very experiences that had led them astray.

As the days counted down to his impending execution, Wilkinson sought solace and understanding in the words he shared with Belle and Lizzie. Through their letters, he sought a sliver of hope, a glimmer of redemption amidst the darkness that surrounded him. Whether their words could assuage his burdens or merely serve as a temporary respite, only time would tell. But in their presence, he found solace, knowing that even in his darkest hour, there were those who believed in the power of humanity’s inherent goodness and the potential for redemption that lay within every soul.

Final Jail Cell Interview

The final jail cell interview with Daniel Wilkinson took place in cell #189 at Thomaston State Prison. A reporter from the Lewiston Journal conducted the interview, which lasted approximately 30 minutes on Thursday, a day before Wilkinson’s scheduled hanging on Friday.

To the reporter’s surprise, Wilkinson displayed an unexpectedly jovial demeanor throughout the interview. He laughed and smiled, although his voice noticeably trembled. Wilkinson admitted that he did not receive many visitors in prison, apart from the occasional visit from the prison chaplain, Reverend Frederick Towers. However, he did receive letters from Belle Knowles, a 40-year-old woman from Augusta, and her 8-year-old daughter, Lizzie. These letters focused on preparing Wilkinson for the afterlife through religious conversion.

During the interview, Wilkinson expressed his thoughts on his spiritual beliefs, or lack thereof. He confessed to not having any concrete beliefs in the afterlife and believed that death would bring about darkness and nothingness. He shared this sentiment with both the chaplain and Belle Knowles, stating that he considered himself agnostic and did not believe in everlasting life or Christianity.

Wilkinson refused to discuss his parents or anything related to his life in England. He was adamant about not wanting his father or mother to learn about the choices he had made in his adult life. He had not written to them in five years, so they remained unaware of his current circumstances. He purposely refrained from sending word to his friends in England out of fear that the information would reach his parents.

Furthermore, Wilkinson held firm to his belief that immigrants and black individuals were disproportionately hanged in Maine. As he had never become a citizen, he was not surprised that he had been sentenced to hang, and he expected his appeals to be denied.

Regarding his guilt, Wilkinson maintained that he was guilty of the death of Constable William Lawrence, but not of premeditated murder. He believed the shooting had happened in the heat of the moment and argued that he should not be hanged for accidentally shooting Officer Lawrence.

When asked about his true last name, Wilkinson claimed that it was indeed “Wilkinson,” but there was no way to prove it. He revealed that he had used different names with his employers and he wouldn’t tell anyone how to reach his former employers for the similar reason of not wanting his parents finding out what had happened to him – he was ashamed.

The interviewer didn’t believe the name of the man he was speaking with was ‘Daniel Wilkinson’ but he had no other suggestions as to what Wilkinson’s real last name might be. However, the he did note that Wilkinson appeared far more composed than the previous inmate he’d interviewed before their execution day. While the last executed inmate was sweaty, had bloodshot eyes and tremors, Wilkinson seemed bright-eyed and energetic. Additionally, Wilkinson displayed a healthy appetite during the interview.

When given the opportunity to make a statement on his own behalf to potentially sway public opinion about his circumstance, Wilkinson declined, stating that it didn’t matter what people thought of him after he died.

In terms of his overall thoughts about his situation, Wilkinson sincerely believed that the people of Maine were not receptive to immigrants. He felt wronged because he was an immigrant and believed that this was the reason he was being hanged. He perceived that people knew of his plight but didn’t come to his aid. Wilkinson held the belief that Mainers would rather see immigrants suffer and die than offer them assistance. He pointed out that five out of the last six executions in Maine involved either black individuals or foreign immigrants, reinforcing his view of systemic bias.

Execution Day

In the final days leading up to his execution, Wilkinson surprised those around him with his demeanor. He seemed to have no complaints, accepting his fate with an unsettling calmness. Confined to a solitary cell during the week preceding his hanging, he slept unusually well for a man in his predicament. His appetite remained robust, devouring everything given to him. When Deputy Warden Hinkley inquired about his well-being, Wilkinson assured him that he felt fine and had no issues to report.

Throughout this period, Wilkinson had numerous meetings with Chaplain Frederick Towers, engaging in deep discussions about faith and his own beliefs. He revealed that he had been born and raised Episcopalian but had lost his belief in God years ago, a sentiment he felt would not easily change. Despite the Chaplain’s attempts to appeal to Wilkinson’s spiritual side, encouraging him to return to God in his final days, the convicted man remained steadfast in his skepticism.

Chaplain Towers tried to appeal to Wilkinson’s ‘better self’, his conscience, and asked Wilkinson if he found himself in the presence of men he claimed had wronged him over the years, would he hurt them? Wilkinson responded, without reservation – he would absolutely seek his revenge on the men he felt had wronged him.

During one of their encounters, Wilkinson, puffing on a cigar, presented himself as indifferent and nonchalant about his impending demise. The Chaplain found him indignant, obstinate, and seemingly resigned to his situation. However, as the time for his hanging drew nearer, Chaplain Towers visited Wilkinson again. This time, the convict’s demeanor had shifted, displaying a more subdued tone and a curbed aggression. In a surprising turn of events, Wilkinson prayed with Chaplain Towers and tearfully admitted his vulnerability, revealing his uncertainty about the afterlife. It was a stark contrast from his previous belief that death simply led to eternal darkness.

Wilkinson confided in Towers, confessing his plan to commit suicide in his cell. However, his resolve was shaken when he received a touching letter from Mrs. Knowles, the woman from Augusta who had been writing him religious messages throughout his incarceration. Her words convinced him to face his death with courage, “like a man”. Still, he maintained his wish that his family never discover the true nature of his demise, revealing details about his father, a tradesman living near London, and expressing his self-perceived weakness within his family.

When asked about the disposal of his body, Wilkinson chose the prison cemetery as his final resting place. Then, at 11:00 am on the day of his hanging, a dramatic occurrence took place. Mrs. Belle Knowles, accompanied by her eight-year-old daughter Lizzie, arrived unexpectedly, claiming to come in the name of Christ. Wilkinson was genuinely glad to see her, and their brief meeting lasted only five minutes. In that fleeting moment, he confessed that she and her daughter were the only true friends he had on this side of the water.

Mrs. Knowles fervently expressed her belief that Jesus forgave the thief on the cross and would forgive Wilkinson as well. Although he wished for that forgiveness, he did not indicate a change of heart regarding religion. As a parting gift, Wilkinson gave her and her daughter a book of prayers and scriptures, inscribing their names within. Belle made two final pleas, asking him to disclose his real name and his parents’ names, but he steadfastly refused both requests.

As Belle Knowles left the room, she was overcome with emotion and nearly fainted, requiring the support of a guard. Pale and visibly shaken, she explained how her parents had initially misled her, claiming that the execution was postponed until the following month to prevent her from attending due to her fragile health. However, she learned of the true date, Friday, and rushed to the prison, determined to be there before his hanging. Despite her nervousness and illness, she had made it in time.

Before the execution took place, Belle exchanged kind words and a handshake with Chaplain Towers. Overwhelmed by the emotional weight of the situation, she departed, leaving behind an indelible mark on Wilkinson’s final moments.

The Hanging of Daniel Wilkinson

At precisely 11:00 am on Friday morning, the intricate process of Daniel Wilkinson’s hanging began. Law enforcement officers assembled outside his cell. His arms were shackled and bound tightly to his sides. Remarkably, Wilkinson appeared relaxed and unbothered by the solemn proceeding. Warden Bean handed the final warrant to Sheriff Irish, who proceeded to read it aloud, the weight of each word hanging heavy in the air.

Sheriff Irish and Reverend Towers, accompanied by two officers, began their somber walk toward the scaffold, flanked by Wilkinson. At 11:45 am, the convicted man emerged from the prison into the courtyard, accompanied by a group of officials from various parts of the state. Clad in black shirt and pants, his hands firmly tied, Wilkinson walked with his head bowed, a heavy sense of resignation enveloping him.

Approximately 30 individuals had gathered to witness the execution, most standing on the ground, their eyes fixed on the unfolding scene. From the time he stepped onto the trap door he had 7 minutes to live. Deputy Sheriff Parker bound his feet, while Deputy Morton meticulously secured the noose around his neck. In an audacious jest, Wilkinson remarked, “This is the way you murder men for $50 a head, is it?” His facial expressions betrayed a mix of anticipation and fear, his face noticeably redder than those who had preceded him.

Sheriff Irish signaled the commencement of the execution, prompting Chaplain Towers to approach Wilkinson. Whispering something in his ear, the chaplain clasped his hand before stepping back onto the scaffold. A final prayer, known as the “Visitation of Prisoners,” reverberated through the air as the chaplain beseeched, “In the midst of life we are in death. O Lord, lift up thy countenance upon us and guide us both now and forevermore, Amen.” Wilkinson’s countenance remained unchanged, his resolve unyielding.

Sheriff Irish, breaking the silence, posed the customary question, “Have you anything to say, Mr. Wilkinson?” In a simple yet resolute response, Wilkinson uttered, “No, sir.” A black cap was placed over his head, and with the removal of the safety lock on the spring holding the drop in place, the sheriff proceeded to carry out his duty. With a brief, customary phrase spoken, the sheriff touched the spring, setting in motion the irreversible sequence of events.

At almost exactly 12:00 pm, Wilkinson was dropped. His head fell to one side, contrary to the expected twirling motion. Convulsions coursed through his body for approximately a minute, and it became evident fairly quickly that his neck hadn’t snapped, and he didn’t die instantaneously. Instead, he faced a slow and agonizing demise, likely succumbing to asphyxiation under the hood that concealed his face.

Following his execution, Daniel Wilkinson’s final request was honored. His body was laid to rest in the prison graveyard, marked only by the impersonal designation of “#2695.” His grave, to this day, remains nameless, a silent testament to a life shrouded in darkness and a final chapter marked by the ultimate penalty of the law.

The post [1883] Maine’s Last Execution first appeared on Maine Ghost Hunters.