Ep. 5: Isaac Sawtelle

Unlike so many murderers who have been forgotten by history, Isaac Sawtelle earned his fifteen minutes of infamy for having the peculiar distinction of being sentenced to death in a state where the crime hadn't even happened.

Christmas Day of 1889 had a special meaning for one Boston family. Isaac Sawtelle, Jr., would be reunited with the family he hadn't seen in sixteen years. Isaac's long absence from home was neither the result of his seeking fortune out West or traveling abroad, nor was it because of a family rift. No, the reason for Isaac's long-awaited homecoming was because he had just been pardoned by the Governor of Massachusetts after serving half of his sentence for raping three young girls.

And the reason why he was welcomed home with open arms was because Isaac's elderly mother, Hannah, had never believed that he was guilty in the first place. 

In 1889, Hannah Sawtelle found herself living with her other son, Hiram, his wife, Jeannette, and their three children: Walter, age 2, Avis, a newborn, and Marion, age 7. 

Hannah's husband, a beloved, eccentric shoemaker, had passed away two years earlier after suffering a stroke. At the time of her husband's death, he had been involved in a major lawsuit, and, to protect his life savings, he had put all his money-- about $40,000, in Hannah's name, with the understanding that the money would be divided equally between Hiram and Isaac, Jr. upon his death.

Unfortunately for Isaac, Jr., his share of the inheritance had been exhausted by legal fees for his criminal defense and bribes made to various officials to help procure his pardon from prison. And when the eccentric shoemaker died in April of 1886, the remaining $20,000 went to Hiram Sawtelle, who operated a small fruit stand in Boston. Hiram was very thrifty and hadn't dipped a single finger into his inheritance, and he entrusted his mother to safeguard the money. In fact, the money still remained in her name.

Isaac returned home on Christmas Day. As the family sat together in the parlor of Hiram's house, Mrs. Sawtelle, perhaps filled with holiday spirit, said to her prodigal son:

"Hiram and I want you to stay here with us. If you need anything, even money, let me know. The fruit stand hasn't been doing very well lately, but I think we can spare a little. Can't we, Hiram?"

This, of course, put Hiram on the spot. He and his wife, Jeannette, stared at each other as an awkward silence fell over the room. Hiram, choosing his words carefully, finally spoke. 

"Isaac is my brother, and so I cannot turn him away. He is welcome to share in what I can provide. However, I must be clear; He has had his inheritance. The rest of our father's money belongs to me, and no money shall be lent from my share. Isaac must make his own way, as I have always done."

Isaac replied that he wouldn't dream of touching a cent of his brother's inheritance. All he needed was a roof over his head, and even that wouldn't be necessary for too long, as he had plans to go into a business partnership with some old friends.

Those words stuck with Hiram. If not for his Isaac's old friends, he may not have ended up in prison in the first place. Hiram feared that Isaac might go back to his old ways. Yes, Hannah Sawtelle might believe that her son had been falsely accused and convicted, but Hiram wasn't so sure. That evening, as they settled into bed, Hiram turned to his wife.

"You must promise me, Jeannette, that you will never allow our daughter, or yourself, to be alone in this house with Isaac. Do you understand?"

"But why?" she asked, never having been told details of the heinous crimes of which Isaac had been convicted.

"Please, Jeannette, just promise." 

Much to Hiram's surprise, Isaac appeared to be doing well with his new business venture, which he only described investing, and it was only January. He had been purchasing expensive clothing. He ate in the finest restaurants. He had even started going to the theatre. Hiram wondered what sort of investment produced returns so quickly. Before long, Hiram had his answer.

In late January, Jeannette saw her husband go into his mother's room, and from behind closed doors there soon erupted a heated conversation. Later that evening, when Jeanette went to bed, Hiram waited up for Isaac to return home. She had just drifted off to sleep when she heard her husband's angry voice:

"You tricked her into signing over every penny. That's where your money has been coming from. You've robbed me of my rightful share! Well, I will fight you to the highest court to get it back!"

"Take it easy, calm down. No one has robbed you of anything. Mother simply allowed me to invest the money for you. It's still in her name, after all. She had every right."

"I want that money back, and I want it by tomorrow."

"Very well, but I believe you're making a big mistake. Much of it is tied up in various investments, and it'll take time to convert it into cash."

"How much time, Isaac?"

"A few days. Possibly a week."

"Alright, you've got one week and not a day more. And if the money isn't back by then, I'll have you thrown in jail for fraud."

The air was heavy with tension inside the Sawtelle home over the next few days. Then, one morning after Hiram had gone to work at the fruit stand, Isaac told Jeannette that he had some business to take care of in Lowell. He then planned to spend the night with a cousin in Rochester, New Hampshire-- near the Maine border-- before returning to Boston. He wondered if 7-year-old Marion would like to come along.

Jeannette had grown fond of Isaac. He helped out with chores, he ran errands, he seemed to be working hard to get his life on the right track. And all three of the Sawtelle children adored their Uncle Isaac. Yet, Jeannette remembered the promise she had made to her husband.

"I know Marion adores you, Isaac, but I doubt her father would let her go," she said.

"I have an idea," replied Isaac. "The fruit stand isn't very far. I'll go downtown to see Hiram and I'll ask him. "

Isaac returned about an hour later with a smile. He reported that Hiram had given his permission to take Marion. With some misgiving, Jeannette dressed her young daughter and watched her leave the house. But when Hiram came home from work that evening, he asked where little Marion had gone.

"She's gone with Isaac to see your cousin up in New Hampshire," replied Jeannette. "Didn't he get your permission earlier this afternoon?"

"Permission? I haven't even seen Isaac since this morning."

Hiram sent a telegraph to New Hampshire. Isaac replied the next day that Marion was seriously ill and he urged his brother to come to Rochester at once. He did. Meanwhile, Jeannette waited impatiently, but days passed without word from her husband. 

And then, just when she was ready to contact the police, Isaac walked through the door with Marion, who had fully recovered from her illness. Isaac asked where Hiram was.

"Didn't he come back with you?" asked Jeannette. "He left as soon as he received your telegram."

"He never arrived in Rochester."

Isaac said that he would go back to Rochester to look for him, and he told Jeanette to notify the police. Chief of Police Wilkinson searched all over Rochester but found no sign of Hiram or Isaac. For several days, search parties combed the countryside, but to no avail. And then, on February 14th, detectives encountered a logger, who said that he had seen a carriage a week earlier a the logging trail with two men inside. It was too dark to see their faces, but he could hear them arguing. The buggy passed and a few minutes later, he heard what sounded like three gunshots.

On the road where the buggy was seen, detectives found a bloody shoe. And a handkerchief embroidered with the letter H.

Meanwhile, just a few miles away, over the Maine state line, a search party found a man's headless body in a shallow grave. He had been shot three times in the back. It was believed that the head had been cut off after the victim was already dead, in order to prevent identification. If this was the killer's plan, it failed; The authorities sent for Jeanette Sawtelle, who identified the body as that of her husband. Isaac Sawtelle was soon located in Portland and arrested.

Detectives John Witham and Michael Shields had been successful in finding a livery man in Rochester who had rented the horse and carriage to a man matching Isaac's description. According to the liveryman, E.S. Stuart, the customer had rented the buggy on Wednesday, February 5th, and had kept it overnight, returning it on Thursday. He had told Stuart that we was going prospecting for gold. He had with him a pick and a shovel.

Witham and Shields closely examined the carriage and detected the faint smell of kerosene. The interior had been wiped clean. But under the seat cushion they found dried blood. 

Next, Detectives Witham and Shields went to every local hardware store, and almost immediately-- like lucky gold prospectors-- they hit paydirt. A clerk named Henry Berry recognized Isaac's description, and told the detectives that the customer had purchased a pick, shovel and a hatchet. The liveryman and hardware store clerk were then taken to the jail, where they both identified Isaac Sawtelle.

In December of 1890, Isaac Sawtelle was found guilty of murdering his brother, and was sentenced to death by hanging. His attorneys' efforts to spare him from the gallows failed, and Isaac made an interesting confession.

Isaac had given his niece, Marion, a mild poison to make her ill, in order to lure Hiram to Rochester. He picked him up at the train station in the rented carriage, and while driving along a lonely road he pulled a gun on Hiram and demanded that he sign a document giving him full possession of their father's estate. Instead of signing, Hiram leaped from the carriage and tried to escape. Isaac shot him in the back.

According to Isaac, the murder had taken place in Maine, near the spot where the shallow grave was found. The head was also found in Maine, quite a distance away from the body, while the handkerchief and bloody shoe was found in New Hampshire. This presented an interesting jurisdictional dilemma, as Isaac had been tried and convicted in New Hampshire. If the murder had taken place in Maine, there would have to be a new trial. And, unlike New Hampshire, Maine didn't have capital punishment, and that was precisely the reason why Isaac had selected the murder spot. Having spent 16 years in prison, he had no fear of being locked up. He did, however, fear the hangman.

The supreme court eventually weighed in and decreed that Isaac be hanged as ordered by the state of New Hampshire. However, on Christmas Eve, just ten days before the execution date, Isaac was found unresponsive in his cell at the state prison in Concord. He was moved to the infirmary, but it was clear that he was beyond salvation. He died on December 27, 1891, without regaining consciousness. The prison physician determined that the cause of the 50-year-old killer's death had been a stroke-- most likely brought on by fear of his impending execution. His body was unclaimed and donated to a medical school.

Unlike so many murderers who have been forgotten by history, Isaac Sawtelle earned his fifteen minutes of infamy-- not just for the brutal murder and decapitation of his brother, but for having the distinction of being sentenced to death in a state where the crime hadn't even happened.