murder - 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James McCormick, sometimes misprinted as ‘John’ in historical documents, was a private in Captain Goodrich’s company.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.

[1884] The Murder at Fort Western

Maine Ghost Hunters — Thu, 04 Sep 2025 22:03:35 +0000

[1884] The Murder at Fort Western

On a cold November night in 1884, tragedy struck the city of Augusta, Maine when Police Officer Rufus R. Lishness, a dedicated servant of the law, was shot and killed while attempting to apprehend a suspect for disturbing the peace at a tenement called “Old Fort” on the east side of the Kennebec River (the old Fort Western). The perpetrator, Harry Burns, was apprehended an hour later and brought to justice. Officer Lishness left behind a grieving wife and four children, robbed of their husband and father by this senseless act of violence. The following is an account of “The Murder at Fort Western”.

Harry Burns and Rufus R. Lishness

At the time of the incident, Harry Burns was a 65-year-old man who was a prior patient at the National Soldiers Home at Togus and was addicted to the use of liquor. On November 11, 1884, he shot and killed Augusta Police Officer Rufus R. Lishness, as previously mentioned. Officer Lishness was responding to a disturbance call with another officer when they went to arrest Harry Burns. When they couldn’t gain access at the entrance, Officer Lishness shoved an unlocked window open and was about to climb into Harry Burns’ bedroom when Burns fired a shot at him, striking Lishness in the head. Lishness was able to walk to the police station with the help of another officer but soon afterward became unconscious, later dying of his wounds. His last words were “I did my duty, didn’t I?” It is unclear what led Harry Burns to murder Rufus Lishness, but his addiction to liquor may have played a role. Dedicated husband and father of 4, officer Rufus R. Lishness was a 45 year old, highly respected, man in the community. He was a table smoother, by trade, but had been put on the overnight police duty in the spring of 1883.

Brief History of Fort Western

Fort Western was built in 1754 during the French and Indian War as a British Colonial Outpost. It was built and maintained by the Howard Family. The fort was primarily built to encourage settlement along the Kennebec River region and to provide stores for the storehouse at Fort Halifax. Fort Western was commanded by Captain James Howard who had a unit of 23 men, including his four sons. In 1969, Fort Western was listed on the National Register of Historic Places and in 1973 it was listed as a National Historic Landmark. By 1767, the military had no use for Fort Western and it was decommissioned. In 1769, Captain James Howard bought Fort Western and 900 acres of surrounding land. He and his sons remodeled it into a residence and trading post. Fort Western was a central meeting point for early residents as far away as Hallowell. On September 23, 1775, Benedict Arnold and his troops stopped at Fort Western on their way to invading Quebec. They spent a week repairing the fort and loading supplies before continuing north. In 1810, William Howard, one of Captain James Howard’s sons, died and the fort was sold out of the family. It was made into a tenement house and the surrounding area became known for illegal activity and low-class behavior.

Breakdown of the Murder

At 3:00am on November 11, 1884, Mrs. Randall, a tenement renter in Fort Western, went to the police station to ask for help. Neighboring tenant, Harry Burns, had been making noise all night and her sick son was trying to sleep. She had already addressed the matter with Harry, but he had rudely dismissed her.

Officers Rufus R. Lishness and Arthur S. Baker accompanied Mrs. Randall back to the Fort. They tried to enter through the front door on the Bowman Street side, but it was locked or blocked. From inside, they heard Harry Burns say “Don’t come in here, Warren!” Warren Bruce was a cop who worked the day shift and was not present that night.

This is a great spot in the story to mention that it was pitch black ‘dark’ outside. It was 1884 and there was no exterior lighting present. Officer Lishness realized the front door was latched so he shimmied over to the window on the right side of the door, opened it up, and quickly popped his head and upper body inside. Without any warning whatsoever, he was shot and fell out of the window onto the ground with blood pouring out of his head.

Officer Arthur S. Baker ran to help him and asked if he’d been shot. It was so dark outside it made seeing the significance of the injury he’d just incurred, almost impossible. He helped Lishness get up off the ground and walk back to the police station. Lishness managed to walk without assistance for much of the way, but soon began to exhibit the effects of being shot in the head at close range. His face and right side of his body became paralyzed.

The last words Officer Lishness uttered before dying were “I did my duty, didn’t I?” A doctor was called and determined that a blood clot was causing issues. Lishness needed to get home as soon as possible, so a carriage was called to take him to his residence at Cushnoc Heights.

Officer Warren Bruce and Marshal Frank B. Farrington were called to arrest Harry Burns. They arrived, kicked in the outside door and then the interior bedroom door. They immediately saw Burns in bed with a gun pointed at the door. They wrestled him hand-to-hand to get the gun away while Mrs. Burns snuck out of bed and out of the room.

Harry refused to get dressed and officers said he was out of his mind with drunkenness and likely hallucinating. They put him in jail.

Officer Rufus Lishness died at 3:40pm the following afternoon.

Harry Burns’ Story

On Saturday, November 8, 1884, Harry made a plan to go to Boston on the following Monday, November 10th. He had plans to see a ‘Dr. Williams’ in Boston and was awaiting a letter from Togus giving him the go-ahead as he was still considered an “inmate” – or ‘patient’ – of the National Veteran’s Home (aka “Togus”). He needed a furlough to go to Boston and it had to be mailed to him. Harry asked Mr. Story, a local shopkeeper in town, to write a letter to Harry’s sergeant asking for the furlough.

Mr. Burns prepared for the trip by getting a haircut at a local place called Gannet’s where he told the barber about his plans to go to Boston, and then to Lowell to spend time with family before returning home to Augusta. He then went home and laid out his ‘good clothes’ in anticipation of the arrival of the requested furlough letter. But the letter didn’t arrive and he was panicking, stressed and anxious. He put his money in the pocket of a pair of pants that he hung on a chair near the window in his bedroom. He also set out a gun to give as a gift to his nephew in Lowell at that same window.

Harry’s reasoning for seeking help from a doctor in Boston was thought to be directly related to pain management regarding the battle injury he sustained during the Civil War, and to get help with detoxing from his alcohol addiction. However, having received no word from Togus that he could leave on furlough, Harry started drinking again at 4:00pm. He drank 2 gallons of his homemade brew between 4pm-12am and ate nothing throughout the entirety of this drinking binge.

At 7:00pm, Harry realized half his keg was gone because he drank it. So, he went to the store, bought 1 pound of hops and molasses and later went out again for tobacco. On the way back, he ran into a small bunch of rowdy teens. They had a verbal exchange regarding a recent election and things got heated. Harry was emotionally invested in this election so he was triggered easily by these kids who were taunting him. They threatened him with chants of “drag him out!” and he feared they would steal his money and kill him because they had threatened him physically during their interaction.

When he was done brewing his homemade beer, he moved the keg he just filled, from one part of the room to another, basically dragging it across the floor and making a ruckus. The sound roused Mrs. Randall in a neighboring apartment and she asked him to quiet down because her son was sick & sleeping. A couple of other close neighbors who shared either a wall, ceiling, or floor heard nothing or were completely unbothered. It was just Mrs. Randall who had a complaint.

By the time night had set in, Harry’s clothes were set out, his $24 was in his pants pocket draped over the chair in front of the window and the revolver was on the stand in front of that same window. Harry didn’t move these items away from the window and was acutely aware of their importance in his life if he were to make a successful trip to Massachusetts and back.

The shooting of Officer Lishness happened on Tuesday November 11, 1884 around 3:00am.

According to Harry, someone knocked on the door and he asked what they wanted. They said they wanted to come in. Harry responded “you shan’t tonight!” and claimed to have never said “Warren”. Harry was quick to clarify he knew Warren Bruce very well, but was also very clear in his messaging he never heard anyone say they were cops.

Harry swore he never thought the people at the door were cops. He thought they were the teenage boys coming to “drag him out”. Harry was scared to find someone opening his window and believed they were going to take his money – literally all of his money was in his pants pocket – which he needed to get to the doctor’s in Boston.

Harry testified he didn’t know Rufus Lishness was the person in the window. He fumbled at the window trying to push the person out and close it but the person grabbed him back, so Harry got away, grabbed for his gun, stumbled to his bed in a panic and shot at the intruder. Harry said he tried to push Lishness back out the window before grabbing his gun in the bureau drawer at the window. He said he shot Lishness while standing away from the window, 2 feet from his bed, not at point-blank range directly at the window.

Mrs. Burns woke up at the sound of the gunshot. It was pitch-black-dark inside, and outside, so neither party could identify each other and neither could see the extent of the injury inflicted on Officer Lishness.

Harry Burns knew Rufus Lishness and all of the other police officers personally. He’d been arrested a few times previously by all. He had never once tussled with the law – and had either paid his fine or did his jail time without any issue.

Harry and his wife had lived in the tenement for the last 5+/- years, or so. He admitted to making and drinking his own beer, which was not illegal. But he’d never been involved with the law outside of drunkenness. The defense – his legal team – reiterated he had never hurt anyone nor intended to hurt anyone in his life and if he would’ve known there were cops at his door he wouldn’t have fired his gun. The Defense was really focused on pushing the “self-defense” angle. However, another cop testified that when he was arresting Harry for drunkenness, not too long ago, Harry threatened to “fix” the next officer who would try to arrest him.

After he shot Officer Lishness, Harry went back to bed thinking he’d scared off the intruders. When Officer Warren Bruce and Marshal Frank B. Farrington broke in through the exterior door and then the bedroom door to Harry’s room, they saw Harry had his gun in his hand, ready to defend his life. The officers had lanterns this time and Harry said the moment he saw their badges he let down his guard. They said they had to wrangle the gun away from him and he was out of his mind with drunkenness, so because of this, he didn’t recognize their badges. Harry said he could have shot them if he wanted to.

Mr. Burns claimed the gun was not cocked, yet the police said it was. He also said his door was not locked but the cops say they couldn’t just open it even though they tried repeatedly, so they determined it had to be locked. Marshal Farrington said Officer Bruce tried to open the bedroom door but it was locked, so they shoulder-slammed it open.

Harry claimed, emphatically and repeatedly, that he hadn’t had a hard liquor drink for around 2 years.

Trial-Wise it’s important to make mention that Mrs. Burns was present when everything happened the night Officer Lishness was killed, but Legal Counsel for the Defense never called her to testify. She could have cleared her husband of accusations made against him if they were lies, or corroborated witness testimony on her husband’s behalf, but she was never given the chance.

After the Shooting and Arrest

The day after the crime, police went to the scene and spoke with Mrs. Burns, who explained that her husband Harry often drank a homemade “hop beer” to excess, sometimes consuming 2 gallons a day. She also mentioned that he’d been speaking loudly about the election before the shooting but by the time the police arrived – directly before the shooting happened – she had already fallen asleep. When police later spoke with Harry in his holding cell, they noted that his breath smelled strongly of alcohol, suggesting he had consumed something stronger than hop beer. Regarding the legal case against Mr. Burns for the murder of Officer Rufus R. Lishness; The jury started deliberations on Tuesday December 23, 1884 at 4:50pm and by 9:15pm it had returned with the verdict. Harry Burns had been found guilty of manslaughter and was sentenced to 7 to 14 years in Thomaston State Prison.

The post [1884] The Murder at Fort Western 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.