The Beheading of Mary Showalter


 

On a Monday afternoon in late September of 1875, a young man and woman arrived in Lebanon on the evening train from Reading. Their arrival wouldn't have attracted much attention if the couple hadn't been so stylishly dressed. The man wore a light brown overcoat of the highest fashion and carried a cane and a brown satchel made of Moroccan leather. Atop his head was a black slouch hat; atop his lip was thin, black mustache. His female companion was also attired in brown, and even though the brown hat obscured the woman's pale, delicate features, it was observed by witnesses at the train station that there was something sad and melancholy about her. It was the week of the county fair, and it seemed odd that a visitor should wear such a worrisome expression in the midst of so much frivolity.

"No, my pet, I am going to the fair first," someone overheard the man say to the sad, young woman. "You go to the hotel and wait until I come." With those words, the man disappeared into the crowd, never to be seen again.

The woman walked to the Lebanon Valley House and registered for a room under the name of "Lulu Greene, of Philadelphia." For the rest of the evening he remained at the hotel alone, waiting for her companion to arrive. On Tuesday, the following day, she ate a solitary dinner at the hotel restaurant, then handed a $20 bill to the proprietor, Mr. Boltz, before walking along the railroad tracks toward Avon Park. The woman was seen by three men working in a nearby orchard, John Shirk, John Henry and William Hughes, all of whom were concerned by the appearance of the well-dressed woman walking alone along the busy tracks.

When the men in the orchard noticed a westbound freight train approaching near Gloninger's Woods, they shouted to the woman, but rather than take evasive action she stopped and drew her brown shawl tightly around her body. And when the engine drew near, she threw herself backwards onto the tracks, her neck across the rail.

The engineer could not stop the train in time. 

The woman's head was severed from her body with virtually surgical precision, and when it was recovered about fifteen feet away there appeared to be only a slight scratch on the cold, pale cheeks. "The engine had severed the head from the body as if it had been cut with the sharpest instrument," remarked the Lebanon Daily News. The position of her body had not been disturbed in the slightest by the 200-ton locomotive. The remains were gathered up and taken to the alms house, and while the body was being prepared for burial the undertaker searched through her belongings in an attempt to identify the unfortunate suicide. In a small black purse was found $2.60, along with a scrap of paper upon which was written, in lead pencil, the name "Martha Nelson", surrounded by elaborate scrollwork doodles.

Boys playing in street on the day of the young woman's suicide found an undelivered letter on the ground. The envelope was not sealed, nor had the author written a name or address upon it. But it seemed obvious that the unsigned letter had been penned by the suicide victim, perhaps just minutes before her gruesome death. The letter read:

"My own dear one, I have concluded to live no longer, for I know that I have been cruelly betrayed. God knows I have never deserved this. I hope to meet you in Heaven, if God pities my troubled soul and takes me home to Him. Try and lead a better life. Think of my heart's sorrows as I spend my last moments here on earth among strangers in a strange land. The money you gave me I have given to the hotel man, and which they will in all probability use to bury me. I will die forgiving and thinking only of you. Good-bye until we meet again in the world to come."


 


Meanwhile, several miles away in Chester County, Mr. Peter Showalter of East Vincent Township was at his wit's end. It had been a week since his daughter's sudden, unexplained disappearance, and not even notices placed in newspapers throughout Pennsylvania produced a clue to the young woman's whereabouts. "Mary Showalter is an estimable young lady, daughter of the above named gentleman, who has recently become very melancholy," wrote the Lancaster Intelligencer on September 24, 1875. "On Monday last she strayed away from home and has not been heard from. Mr. Showalter, his family, and friends have made diligent search for her at every point where it is thought she would have been likely to have gone."

Upon hearing of the suicide in Lebanon, Peter Showalter, accompanied by his son, took the first train to town and identified the body of the mysterious woman who had given her name as "Lulu Greene". There was no doubt about it; the woman with the severed head was indeed Mary Showalter. The body was immediately conveyed to Chester County for burial.

According to the family, Mary had been afflicted with a heart ailment since childhood and this had caused her to become depressed, and her depression only deepened over the years as she watched her friends come of age and go to parties and fall in love. But Mary's health prevented her from doing any of these things; even the slightest over-exertion could prove too much for her weak heart. Because of her melancholy state, the family kept a close watch over her. But somehow, some way, she managed to elude the vigilance of her family and friends. 

On Sunday, September 26, a long line of carriages made a somber procession to the Showalter residence, three miles from Spring City. Mourners continued to assemble and, before long, a funeral party of over two thousand people had congregated to pay their respects. Later in the morning, some five hundred carriages departed the Showalter property and traveled toward Zion Lutheran Church for the funeral.

And one can't help but wonder if the unknown man with the neatly-trimmed mustache and brown overcoat-- the unidentified man who had broken young Mary's heart-- had attended the funeral services. Who was he? What became of him? Did he take Mary's advice and "mend his ways"? Did he mourn for her, or did he casually brush off her death like dust from his shoes?

And who was the mysterious "Martha Nelson", whose name had been written on a scrap of paper found in Mary's purse? Was this the woman who had stolen the man's attention at the county fair, the reason why he never returned to the hotel? 

The shocking suicide on the railroad tracks caused quite a sensation in Lebanon and surrounding cities, and rumors swirled like autumn leaves. The Showalter family denied that Mary had a suitor, claiming that it would have been impossible, as they kept her under strict supervision because of her health condition. But, obviously, their watchful eye wasn't as watchful as they had claimed, because Mary did manage to run away from home. And there was no shortage of eyewitnesses who saw Mary arrive in Lebanon with a mysterious man in brown.

However, the family offered evidence which seems to suggest that Mary had already made up her mind to take her own life before she left Chester County. After she ran away, her family found a small box in Mary's room containing her gold watch, jewelry and other trinkets, along with a slip of paper upon which was written, "This is for Maggie". Maggie was Mary's younger sister. 

Whether the strange case of Mary Showalter was one of unrequited love or an unbalanced mental state will never be known, but the case surely deserves consideration for one of Pennsylvania's strangest suicides.  




Sources:

Lebanon Daily News, Sept. 22, 1875.
Lancaster Daily Evening Express, Sept. 24, 1875.
Lancaster Intelligencer Journal, Sept. 24, 1875.
Lebanon Daily News, Sept. 25, 1875.
Lebanon Daily News, Sept. 28, 1875.
Harrisburg Telegraph, Sept. 28, 1875.
Chambersburg Valley Sentinel, Oct. 8, 1875.

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