Lore - Episode 109: Assumption

Episode Date: March 4, 2019

There’s a lot in life we can count on. Death, taxes, the sunrise, and political turmoil--these are all guaranteed, safe bets. But outside that, everything else is an assumption. And sometimes we get it tragically, horribly wrong. * * * The Lore book series: www.theworldoflore.com/books The Lore TV show: www.Amazon.com/Lore Latest Lore news: www.theworldoflore.com/now Learn more about your ad-choices at https://www.iheartpodcastnetwork.com Access premium content!: https://www.lorepodcast.com/support See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

The moment the police arrived, they were confused. The body of Thomas Hickman lay on the rough desert grass, his hands tied and his mouth covered with tape. But it wasn't helpless exposure to the New Mexico sun that had killed him. No, it was the bullet wound in his forehead. The trouble was, there was no gun near the body, so the police began to assume Hickman had been murdered.

And yet the crime scene showed no evidence that anyone else had been there. Just Hickman, his car, his tracks, and the vast expanse of desert. It was a murder mystery that would baffle the police. For a while, at least. At some point, you see, one of the officers noticed something white flapping around off in the distance, caught around a bit of undergrowth. When they investigated it, they discovered it was a small gathering of balloons, each one filled with helium that had been tied to the most unexpected object, a pistol.

And the moment they realized it, the pieces fell into place. Hickman hadn't been murdered after all. He had driven himself out into the desert, tied the balloons to his handgun, and then assumed that when his body let go of it, the helium and wind would carry it far away, leaving his family with a large life insurance check rather than the trauma of a suicide. But that was Hickman's problem. He assumed. History is full of mistakes made by people who have looked at all the facts that they

have and then just assumed. In 1899, the commissioner of the U.S. Patent Office, a man named Charles Duel, assumed that everything that could be invented already had. In 1927, Harry Warner, one of the Warner Brothers the movie studio is named after, assumed no one would ever want to hear actors actually talk, and Orson Welles, 1938 audio drama adaptation of the War of the Worlds, tricked thousands of people into assuming the planet was being invaded by Martians. But some assumptions can create a bigger mess.

When we assume, we write off all other possibilities and throw ourselves completely behind an idea that we believe to be the full and complete truth. But assumption can lead us toward tragedy, and the sooner we catch it, the sooner the real truth can be pursued. And as history has shown us time and time again, innocent lives may depend on it. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is Lore. When we think of Salem, Massachusetts, we tend to think of one of the most prominent events in our nation's history, the Salem witch trials.

But closing the book on Salem that early means we miss out on so much more that took place there, because even though the witch trials ended in 1693, Salem's prominence had only just begun. In a century, Salem had grown to be the sixth largest city in the newborn nation of the United States. And more importantly, it was the wealthiest of them all, beating out even Boston, Philadelphia, and New York City. And all of that wealth was a result of the importance and power of the shipping industry,

something Salem had deep roots in. And that wealth found an outlet in a new style of architecture known as the federal style. From about 1730 to 1830, buildings all over early America were constructed with an eye toward the ancient Greek and Roman cultures, places where many saw the roots of democracy. And in Salem in particular, that style was reflected in a number of large homes and public buildings. We owe a lot of that thanks to a Salem architect and builder named Samuel McIntyre. The mark he left on the city can still be seen today.

In fact, if you ever get the chance to visit Salem, take a walk down Chestnut Street, where many of his homes are still standing, and you will be able to bask in the glow of his simple genius. But today, I want to tell you about one house in particular. It was built by McIntyre in 1804 for a very wealthy client named John Gardner. Gardner had made his fortune in the same way so many others had in Salem, by importing and exporting goods on his own fleet of ships. And this beautiful red brick mansion, complete with its black shutters and white Corinthian

columns, was meant to be a way to show off that wealth. But then, war began to brew. As a result, Gardner's shipping empire began to run at a loss. To cover their debts, he and his wife, Sarah, sold the house just a few years after moving in. Then in 1814, just a decade after it had been built, it sold yet again, this time to another wealthy shipmaster and trader named Captain Joseph White. White was an interesting fellow, and there's a lot of complexity I need to expose you to

before we can move on with the story. You need to understand the players before we hear the tale, I suppose, so let me get those details out of the way. White was a retired old widower with no children of his own, but he was also insanely wealthy. In modern currency, he was probably worth $5 million, which was a lot of money to hang in the balance when there was no obvious heir to inherit it. But he did have family around him. First there was his niece, an older woman named Mrs. Beckford.

I can't find a record of when exactly she moved in with him, but my guess is it was shortly after his wife passed away. White left her own farm and property in nearby Wenham to live and work in White's house as a housekeeper, putting the farm into the hands of her daughter Mary. Then there was his nephew, Stephen White. Stephen was a success story in the making, and old Captain White probably felt the closest he was ever going to get to parental pride in regards to Stephen. He was a Massachusetts state senator with a promising career ahead of him, and his connections

to people like the legendary statesman Daniel Webster and Supreme Court Justice Joseph Story certainly didn't hurt. There were a couple of others in and around the house, too. Benjamin White was a distant relative who worked on the property as a sort of handyman and gardener, while local woman Lydia Kimball rounded out the household staff as a maid under Mrs. Beckford's guidance. Everyone assumed that when old Captain White passed away, most of that immense fortune of his would be passed on to Stephen, with the smaller share for Mrs. Beckford.

But by 1830, life was a bit more complex than that. Captain White was an 82-year-old by then, and while the town gossip constantly pondered how it would all play out, he was still as healthy as ever. And he was cranky, too, oftentimes using the threat of inclusion or exclusion from his will as leverage over his relatives. On the night of April 6 of 1830, Captain White went to bed slightly later than normal, perhaps around half past nine that evening. When handyman Benjamin White arrived in the morning to take care of his daily work, he

noticed a couple of unusual things. First, there was a window on the first floor of the house that was open. Nearby, a plank leaned against the side of the house, as if someone had used it to climb inside, and a number of footprints dotted the soil around them. Worried that a thief might have broken in to steal any number of the valuable items that the Captain kept in his mansion, Benjamin entered the house and approached Lydia, the young maid. Then, together, they cautiously walked through the house looking for missing objects, but

found none. What they did find, though, was that Captain White's bedroom door was ajar. I don't know if they knocked and called out for the old man, or if they slowly nudged the door open while holding their breath, but somehow, they found themselves standing in his bedroom, looking down on the bed, with their hands held to their mouths. The old Captain was there, but it was clear from the blood and wounds and general disarray that he would not be rising to start his day or any day. Captain Joseph White was dead.

He wasn't just dead. White had been brutally murdered. Blood covered his clothing and the bedsheets, having poured out of the 13 stab wounds that were dotted across his torso. And as if that weren't enough, his head had been smashed with a blunt object. There was no blood on his face, but it was clear that his skull had been badly fractured. Benjamin and Lydia immediately sent word to Stephen White about the murder, and he arrived as quickly as he could manage.

Once there, he called upon two men to help him with the situation. One was William Ward, who worked for Captain White as a clerk and a business manager. The other was Samuel Johnson, quite possibly the most prominent physician in all of Salem. Ward did a lot of things that, looking back nearly two centuries later, would feel at home in an episode of CSI. He found those footprints in the dirt outside the downstairs window, and because the light rain was beginning to fall, he covered them with a large pan. He would later compare those footprints to those of Benjamin and Lydia, ruling them out

as suspects. And Dr. Johnson did what he did best and took care of the body of the old man. After an initial examination right there where he had been found, Captain White's body was taken away for an official autopsy, but the results were less than helpful. It wasn't clear whether it was the multiple stab wounds that killed him, or the blow to the head. A later second autopsy was more accurate, determining that Captain White had been bludgeoned after he died from the fractured skull.

But it also conclusively proved something else. There had been more than one killer, which naturally set the public on edge. It was one thing to know that one cold-blooded murderer was loose on the streets, but two? Everyone began to assume that they would be the next victim. New locks were installed, windows and doors were shut tight at night, and the demand for daggers and pistols became so great that special shipments were brought up from Boston. With the question of how out of the way, and everyone unanimously agreeing that the why was money, the next mystery to be solved was who.

It sounded simple enough, but there were honestly just too many people to consider. And while I know it might not be the most suspenseful thing to do, I need to walk you through a small handful of them so that the rest of this story can make sense. First up would be Captain White's nephew, Stephen. He was the one that almost everyone in town assumed would inherit White's fortune. But he also had a solid alibi, having been seen by multiple witnesses in Boston at the time of the murder. His cousin, Mrs. Beckford, who worked as the housekeeper for Captain White, was also a

suspect, but not for the reasons you might think. It had to do with her daughter Mary, and it's complicated. You see, Mary and Captain White had originally been close, close enough for rumors of an incestuous affair and a larger than normal inheritance. But Mary fell in love with a young captain named Joseph Knapp, Jr., who worked on one of Captain White's ships. White disapproved of their relationship for whatever reason and gave them an ultimatum. Stay together and lose everything, the inheritance and the employment, or split up and stay secure.

Mary and Joseph chose to stay together. So here they were, a young married couple living on Mrs. Beckford's farm in Wenham because they had lost everything thanks to Captain White. Who better to pin the murder on, right? Well, it wasn't as easy as that. Much like Stephen White, the entire Knapp family was very well respected. Sure, they hadn't been as successful as Captain White, having lost one of their ships to pirates, but Joseph Jr., along with his brothers Frank and Fippin, and their

father Joseph Sr., were all respected members of the community. So without a strong suspect, the town put together a vigilance committee of 27 members who were tasked with solving the crime. They were instructed to go door to door and search every single home in Salem, looking for anything that might help solve the murder. In the end, though, the lead they were looking for came not from one of the many beautiful homes there, but from a nearby jail. Without spending too much time on the little details, it was the confession of a local

prisoner that pointed the vigilance committee in the direction of two suspects, a pair of brothers named Richard and George Crowninshield. Richard was a gambler and George was a bit of a ladies man. And together they operated a machine shop as a front to more criminal activities. As suspects, they made sense. Throw in a mysterious letter from another ex-con in Belfast, Maine, that hinted at a hidden crime, and soon a story began to unfold. The Crowninshield brothers had been hired by two local men to kill Captain White and

steal his will, hoping that that would prevent his fortune from being passed exclusively to his nephew, Stephen. And the identity of those men would rock the community. It had been two of the NAP brothers, Joseph and Frank. It was almost as if their reputation evaporated overnight. As soon as their names were made public, the two NAP brothers, along with Richard and George Crowninshield, were rounded up and arrested. And I have to believe that Salem and the surrounding area exhaled a collective sigh

of relief. The killers had been captured, and now they were safe. But of course, it wouldn't be that simple, would it? That's not how real life works. It's more nuanced and complex, with shades of gray mixed in with the black and white. Even though the four men were in custody, none of them would talk. That is, until a local minister named Reverend Henry Coleman stepped in to try and help. It turns out Coleman was the minister of the Independent Congregational

Church, where Joseph and Mary NAP were members alongside Stephen White when he wasn't in Boston for work. So maybe it was a desire to preserve his flock, or perhaps he just loved to meddle. We'll never be entirely sure. Coleman arrived at the jail with an offer. If Joseph Jr. would confess in writing, perhaps he could secure immunity for the young man. Joseph's brother, Frank, who was also in jail, protested the idea. So did their father, Captain NAP.

But it didn't matter, because the young man sat down shortly after and wrote out a full confession. And while he did that, Coleman traveled to Boston, somehow managed to pull the attorney general out of his bed in the dead of night and get him to agree to this bargain. In exchange for a full confession, Joseph NAP Jr. was going to be immune from all charges. And that seemed like the sort of hope he was looking for. His story was compelling, to say the least. According to Joseph, it was Frank who approached the Crown and Shield brothers

about killing Captain White. The reason was exactly what everyone had suspected, with the old man dead and his last will and testimony stolen. His estate would have to be divided equally among his relatives, which meant Joseph and Mary would receive a larger chunk of change. Four days before the murder took place, Joseph managed to steal the will from an iron chest in Captain White's house. Then on April 6th, he visited the house again and secretly unlocked a window in

the parlor, making it possible for Richard Crown and Shield to enter later that night and do the deed. The story also confirmed the medical exams on Captain White's body. Richard had crept into the old man's bedroom without making a sound and found the room to be flooded with brilliant moonlight. Standing over the captain, the killer brought his weapon down hard on the old man's skull, killing him instantly. Just to be sure, though, he peeled back the covers and plunged a dagger into the

captain's chest over and over again. And then he slipped back out into the night. Joseph's confession was clear about all of their roles. Joseph was the inside man. Frank hired the killer and Richard did the dirty work. They were a team, yes, but the blood was really only on one man's hands. Richard Crown and Shield. And because the confession actually led the authorities to the location of the

murder weapon, a beastly two foot long lead weighted club. It seemed like an open and shut case. But Richard had a different idea. Learning about the confession and the version of the story painted by Joseph Knapp, he used two silk handkerchiefs to make a noose and hanged himself in his jail cell, which was obviously tragic. Yes, but it also complicated things a bit because while the killer was now dead, no one had formally convicted him of a crime.

And that was a problem. That's because Massachusetts state law at the time was clear about when accessories to murder could be tried for their role in the crime. It had to be after the primary suspect had been convicted. And because that had never happened and could never happen. Thanks to Richard Crown and Shield suicide, they were all technically off the hook and free to go. Yes, they had all worked together to plan and carry out the crime.

Yes, it had been Frank Knapp, who had paid Richard Crown and Shield, the modern equivalent of about $25,000. And yes, Joseph had made it all possible by unlocking the window and stealing the will, but they hadn't wielded the weapons and therefore would never be convicted for the murder of Captain Joseph White. At least that's what everyone assumed. An assumption can be a lot like a locked house in the dead of night. It can give us comfort and help us feel safe and lull us into a false sense of

security, so much so that we drop our guard and become vulnerable. Assumption is natural, but it's also dangerous because sometimes people make mistakes. Look, I get it. On the surface, there's nothing particularly special about the murder of Captain Joseph White. It's one of countless murders that have taken place in America since the founding of the nation. However sad that might be to say out loud.

Humans are very good at killing each other. And this story is just one more example of that. But there is a deeper current flowing beneath the surface of this story that we need to take note of. This wasn't a straightforward murder case. It was riddled with holes and mistakes on both sides of the courtroom. And all of those flaws guided it toward an awkward and uncertain finale. In a lot of ways, it was this trial that set the tone for so many other

impossible murder tales, the ones where the simplest answer is the farthest from the truth. And we can blame all of it on assumption. The community assumed that they knew what the motive was. Others assumed they knew who the killer was. And the killers, if that's who the arrested men really were, even assumed they had succeeded. At the end of the day, it's possible that all of them were wrong.

All because they assumed. Now, that last part might have been a bit confusing and I want to explain it for you. I want to explain it for you, but not just yet. First, I want to tell you the rest of the story, because while George Crown and Shield did manage to slip away to freedom, Frank and Joseph Junior weren't so lucky, and that's because of a man named Daniel Webster. Webster was a powerful statesman.

Over his career, he served in the U.S. House of Representatives for both New Hampshire and Massachusetts. And later as a U.S. Senator, he was the Secretary of State for three different presidents. And above all of that, he was a talented attorney and a good friend of Stephen White and Stephen White had recently come into some money. Remember? So for a handsome sum, Stephen White hired Daniel Webster to get involved in the

case. And as a result, Joseph and Frank Knapp were pulled back into the legal workings of the court system. Webster gave dramatic speeches and entertaining retellings of the murder of old Captain White, and he fought against the legal precedents that had so far protected the two brothers from conviction. And it worked. On August 21st of 1830, Frank Knapp was convicted and sentenced to death by hanging, an execution that took place one month later on September 28th.

And his brother Joseph, the one who had stolen the will and masterminded the entire murder, was convicted a short while later. He was hanged on December 31st. And yet the story doesn't end there. I mentioned a moment ago that the killers assumed they had succeeded. Yes, Captain White was really dead. So that part of their plan worked out. The main goal had been to steal and destroy the old man's will, thereby

guaranteeing themselves a larger piece of his fortune. And with that, they failed. They failed because Captain White wasn't a stupid man. Yes, he kept a copy of his will in a locked iron chest in his house. But that was because it was an older copy. The most recent version of his will, the one that would be legally binding and clearly instruct the distribution of his estate, was safely in the hands of his attorney, exactly where it should have been all along.

Joseph Knapp made an assumption, putting his life on the line for what he believed to be a sure thing. He placed his bet and he lost it all. The story of the murder of Captain Joseph White is more than just a legendary tale that still haunts Salem, Massachusetts, almost two centuries later. It's a tale of assumption and failure, of greed and death. And its influence has reached farther than you might believe. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to learn all about that.

The edition of Daniel Webster to the Trial of Joseph and Frank Knapp added a new level of experience and skill to the story. Webster was one of the most talented lawyers of his day, but there was something else about him that he's remembered for his life. He was the most experienced lawyer in the world, and he was one of the most talented lawyers of his day. He was one of the most talented lawyers of his day, but there was something else about him that he's remembered for, and it's an old word we don't often see anymore.

He was an orator. Specifically, Daniel Webster was really good at public speaking. He was compelling, enthralling, and downright entertaining. When he spoke in the courtroom, there was never a drooping eyelid or a snoring member of the jury. He had a way with words that pulled you in and refused to let you go. And everyone who had a chance to hear him throw a tantrum. Thoroughly enjoyed the ride.

So it probably won't surprise you to learn that his words were often recorded and even redistributed to the wider public. People wanted to read the things he said, and rightly so. Let me read to you a passage from one of his many statements in the trial of Joseph and Frank Knapp. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim, and all beneath the roof, a healthy old man to whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slumbers of the night held him in their soft but strong embrace. The assassin enters through the window already prepared into an unoccupied apartment.

The face of the innocent sleeper was turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, showed him where to strike. The fatal blow was given, and the victim passes without a struggle or emotion, from the repose of sleep to the repose of death. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the window, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. He had done the murder. No eye has seen him, no ear has heard him.

The secret is his own, and it is safe. Ah, gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can be safe nowhere. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it and say it is safe. Not to speak of that eye, which glances through all disguises, and beholds everything as in the splendor of noon. Such secrets of guilt are never safe from detection, even by men. Now, I'll be honest, there are a lot of writers and speakers from the 19th century

that I would have a hard time staying awake for. But this glorious retelling of the murder of Captain White by Daniel Webster breaks the mold. It seems to step across the threshold that separates boring legal defense from the work of Victorian horror, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. In fact, this retelling of the death of Captain White went on to inspire a particular writer to spin his own tale of murder, guilt, and our inability to hide from our own shame. Listen to this passage pulled from his story. When I had waited a long time, very patiently, without hearing him lie down,

I resolved to open a little, a very, very little crevice in the lantern. So I opened it. You cannot imagine how stealthily, stealthily, until it length the simple dim ray, like the thread of the spider shot from out the crevice and fell full upon the vulture eye. It was open, wide, wide open, and I grew furious as I gazed upon it. With a loud yell, I threw open the lantern and leapt into the room. He shrieked once, only once. In an instant, I dragged him to the floor and pulled the heavy bed over him.

I then smiled gaily to find the deed so far done. The old man was dead. I removed the bed and examined the corpse. Yes, he was stone, stone dead. His eye would trouble me no more. That's right. Thanks to the captivating words of Daniel Webster, another man found inspiration to put a tale of suspense and horror onto the page.

His story, like that of Daniel Webster's, reveals the deeds of a killer who enters a quiet bedroom in the dead of night and wrestles with the guilt of his actions and that dreadful, dreadful eye. And even if you've never read it, you'll recognize it by its name. The Tell-Tale Heart by Edgar Allan Poe. Because yes, sometimes art really does imitate life. But also, death. This episode of Lore was written and produced by me, Aaron Mankey,

with research by Taylor Hagridorn and music by Chad Lawson. Lore is much more than just a podcast. There's the book series available in bookstores and online, and two amazing seasons of the television show on Amazon Prime Video. Check them both out if you want more Lore in your life. I also make two other podcasts, Aaron Mankey's Cabinet of Curiosities and Unobscured, and I think you'll enjoy both of them. Each one explores other dark areas of our history,

ranging from bite-sized episodes to season-long dives into a single topic. And you can learn about both of those shows and everything else going on all over in one central place, theworldoflore.com slash now. And you can follow the show on Twitter, Facebook, or Instagram. Just search for Lore Podcast, all one word, and click that follow button. And when you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.