grave - 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.

[1931] The Haunting of Hendrick’s Head

Maine Ghost Hunters — Thu, 01 May 2025 12:41:21 +0000

[1931] The Haunting of Hendrick’s Head

The Mysterious Traveler

Hendrick’s Headlight in located in the quaint little mid-coast town of Southport, Maine. It looks a lot different now than it did back in the early 1930’s. The town was smaller, quieter, and when summer was over there were a lot less people around. It was the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else. And when a stranger came through – well, you likely knew that, too.

That’s what happened on Tuesday, December 1, 1931 when the bus service rolled into town and out stepped a middle aged woman dressed head to toe in all black clothing, carrying a single suitcase, and looking to rent a room at the old Fullerton Hotel. Honestly, nothing really stood out about her, besides the fact that she wasn’t from around here. But then again, the existence of a year round hotel in this tiny coastal town told you all you needed to know about how common it would be for a stranger to stop in for a night or two.

She rented a room under the name Louise G. Meade and immediately headed out to see the coastline. She walked down the main street, past a few shops and when she saw Mrs. Pinkham outside the post office she stopped and asked directions on how to get to a place she could take in a “sweeping view of the ocean”. Mrs. Pinkham obliged and told her the best place to see the open ocean was down by Hendrick’s Head Light, but advised it was getting late in the day, it would be dark by the time she headed back to the hotel, and the temperature was dropping fast – locals were expecting the first snow of the season on this night. None of that seemed to matter. Louise thanked Mrs. Pinkham, told her she knew where Hendrick’s Head was, and headed out for the trek toward the ocean.

Not long after this exchange, Lightkeeper Knight stumbled into the town post office. It was briskly cold outside. The wind was beginning to pick up and folks were getting ready for winter weather to settle in. The waves crashing on the shoreline, visible from the lighthouse Mr. Knight and his wife were in charge of, were a testament to everything Mrs. Pinkham had warned Louise about. So naturally, she asked Mr. Knight if he’d seen Louise on his walk to the post office, and if he’d given her fair warning about the dangers of the wind, the surf against the rocks, and how fast the sun sets out this way. But, to her surprise, he told her he never saw the visitor. She insisted there was no way he could have missed her, since there is only 1 road from the lighthouse to the post office, and this woman was on it – she’d seen Louise leave toward that direction with her very own eyes. But Mr. Knight was quite certain he saw no one. But, he assured her, on his way back to the lighthouse, he’d keep a keen eye out for the traveller and would assist her if she needed it.

As it turned out, Mr. Knight would never get the chance.

On his way home he made a conscious effort to take notice of anyone who might be present on the road toward the lighthouse. All the residences down this way were summer homes, so they were boarded up and empty. There were no lights, and no sign of any activity once tourist season was over. However, as he got closer to the lighthouse he happened to look over toward one of the neighboring cottages and he saw, what he thought, was the silhouette of a person walking on the side of the cottage. Now, by this time of the evening it was starting to get quite dark. Not yet completely night time, but definitely on the later end of dusk. Mr. Knight saw the silhouette and hollered out, asking who it was and did they need help, numerous times, but he got no response. And the visual happened so quickly, he really wasn’t sure if he had actually seen what he thought he saw. He wondered if it was a trick of light, or if his mind was playing tricks on him, simply because he was so focused on not missing Louise if they crossed paths again.

Well – the next day arrived and it was noted that this woman in black had not returned to her hotel room after heading out to see the ocean, and naturally, folks got worried. So a local fisherman, who was also good at tracking, followed the path Mrs. Pinkham had told him Louise took away from the post office, and he tracked her straight down the road, noting quite curiously, that her tracks led off into the bushes on the side of the road right where she would have crossed paths with Mr. Knight. He surmised that when Mr. Knight came into view she stepped out of view, so as not to be noticed, and when Mr. Knight was out of earshot and eye line, Louise came back out onto the roadway and continued her walk toward the water.

The Search

This being a typical small Maine community, the townspeople weren’t letting this one go. They were worried for the traveler and feared something had happened to her down near the water on Tuesday night, so by Sunday Morning, December 6, 1931 there was a concerted effort put forth amongst the local fishermen to scour the coastline and the nearby waters in search of her body. And they did – they found her. She wasn’t far from a nearby beach, and the undertow had her trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of surfacing, getting pulled under, then surfacing again. If they weren’t actively looking for her she very well could have gone unnoticed for quite a time.

The Mystery

Now comes the mystery. It’s what you’ve been waiting for, isn’t it?
Well, here are some things you should know;

When searchers recovered the body they saw immediately that her wrists were bound by a leather belt that was looped through her handbag, and then threaded through the handles of an electric flatiron. Essentially, whoever fastened this setup was aiming at weighing her down while preventing her from struggling her way free.

One of her hands was partially inside of her bag, and the other was “hooked on her belt”.

When the contents of her suitcase were investigated it was noted that all of her clothing – every single piece of clothing – had no tags of any sort. All of the tags had been purposely and carefully removed – all except those she was wearing when she went to the ocean.

The name she gave the Fullerton Hotel when she checked in was Louise G. Meade from Pittsburgh, PA. But, despite an overwhelming effort by Southport authorities to locate her next of kin, or at least someone who knew her, all of those efforts failed. Ads and articles were run in newspapers all over the country. Since the clothes she was wearing were known to come from Lord and Taylor in New York – New York City detectives came to Southport to investigate the body. Her description was blasted to every police department within reason, but nothing came of any of it. No one claimed this mysterious woman as missing.

And, probably one of the most enigmatic of all the clues left behind about who this stranger might be, was found inside the handbag she had on her when she was recovered from the water. Inside this bag was a “waterproof packet” with a string of numbers no one has ever been able to identify. These numbers were purposely – and in an obviously premeditated fashion – placed inside a packet that water couldn’t penetrate.

If she was murdered, did the murderer leave a water tight clue behind? And if they did, why would they do that?

If she committed suicide, did she bind her own hands? And if she did, why would she do that?

If she did bind her own hands, why did she show no signs of struggle before eventually drowning? When she was recovered it was noted one hand was partially resting in her handbag, the other was resting loosely around her belt, as if neither had moved once she was in the water. A resident of the town who helped with the investigation made mention he knew of a number of people who had committed suicide by drowning and no matter how determined they were to end their lives there was always that final moment of desperation when they tried to stop it before it was too late. This woman showed no signs of struggle. Not one.

The Resolution

After a month of failed attempts to identify the ‘woman in black’ that Southport residents knew only as “Louise G. Meade” they finally decided to bury her amongst their own in a small family cemetery on the road to Hendricks Head on January 8, 1932. She wasn’t given a headstone, and she was buried “off to the side”, but that was to be expected given the circumstances. In family cemeteries all of the plots are generally taken by groups of family members and so the only available place for unexpected deaths is “off to the side”. More than 25 years later the fieldstone left to denote her burial spot was replaced with an unmarked stone, here in Union Cemetery in West Southport.

The Mystery Continues

As for the haunting of Hendricks Head? There are 2 well known parts:

For decades, there have been repeated sightings of a mysterious black limousine witnessed during the anniversary week of her demise at the shoreline of Hendricks Head, as if someone is looking out over the water in mourning for the woman we know only as Louise G. Meade. It’s also seen around the same time of each year at the cemetery she was laid to rest, but no one has ever made a solid connection between the two. Only noting that the limousine started showing up after her death, and has continued to be witnessed at the locations of her demise and burial.

To this day there are sightings of the lady in black out here at Hendricks Head. Not always in the same place, and not always under the same circumstances – but always right around the date she was taken out to sea, and always right around that certain time of night when the light gets so low you can almost call it “dark”. Some folks say the fog brings her back, others say it’s the bright glow of a full moon that will reveal her apparition. But there’s only one thing they can all agree on – ‘The Lady of Dusk’ haunts the shores of Hendricks Head and no only really knows why.

Wrapping Up

If you’d like to visit the shores of Hendricks Head you’ll have to come to Southport, Maine. There’s limited parking down near the lighthouse but it’s worth the drive. It’s beautiful out here. And who knows, maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones to catch a glimpse of The Lady of Dusk. If you do, we want to hear from you!

If you’d like to honor the otherwise anonymous woman we know only as “Louise G. Meade”, her unmarked stone can be found at the Union Cemetery in West Southport – “off to the side”. We ask if you visit her final resting place you do so with consideration for the fact that she has been buried here away from all those she had ever known in her life. She’s had no one to visit her grave site, to keep her final resting place clear of debris or overgrowth, or to put flowers on her grave to express their mourning of her passing from their lives. She deserves nothing but the utmost respect from all of us. We ask that you please pay your respects with these notions in mind.

The post [1931] The Haunting of Hendrick’s Head first appeared on Maine Ghost Hunters.