The Sturmerville Valentine's Day Murder of 1891

Edward McMillan

 

Warning: This article contains graphic and disturbing depictions of violence and may not be suitable for all audiences.

The borough of Exeter in Luzerne County sits on land where the village of Sturmerville once stood over a century and a half ago. Laid out on 1872 by Captain Solomon Sturmer on a 14-acre parcel of land purchased from Mrs. Rachael Goodwin, Sturmerville's close proximity to the Exeter Shaft and other mines allowed the village to grow quickly in the years following its founding. As is often the case with any boomtown, this rapid growth had unforeseen consequences; coal miners were a rowdy lot and it didn't take long for trouble to start brewing. 

On February 14, 1891, one of the most fiendish murders in the history of Exeter Township took place at Sturmerville, in a two-story frame house owned by the Lehigh Valley Coal Company on what is now Cedar Street. This tragedy was enacted in the home of the McMillan family, which was shared by Edward McMillan, his wife of thirty-six years, Ann, and their sixteen-year-old son, James. Edward and Ann had eleven children (six had died), and James was the youngest. Edward and Ann were both addicted to strong drink and their marital life was one of constant quarreling. These fights, it was said, would often disturb the while neighborhood. On such occasions these fights would turn violent and the evening would typically end with Edward pummeling his wife into unconsciousness, sometimes beating her to within an inch of her life.

Edward, a 54-year-old employee of the Exeter mine, was a native of Scotland. An ordinary-sized man with a sandy mustache, his defining features were his missing front teeth and a missing thumb and finger on his left hand. Edward came home late the night of February 14 in his usual drunken condition, bringing with him a bottle of whiskey from O'Brien's Saloon. The McMillans drank freely until the bottle was empty, and, as was so often the case, a quarrel soon ensued. James, having grown all too familiar with this pattern, went to the house of a friend, Albert Bender, to get away from the pathetic scene. Sometime around eight or nine o'clock that evening Edward was attempting to poke the ashes out of the fire when Ann said something that set her husband into a rage. He struck her on the head with the hot iron poker, knocking her to the floor. Then he struck her a second time, inflicting a deep gash on her forehead. The poker must've been red hot at the time; a physician's inspection of the wounds showed that the poker burned down deep into the flesh, the tip having been shoved beneath the skin.

 

 
Body Resembled a Piece of Beefsteak

Ann, in her extremely inebriated state, had only been stunned by these blows. As she struggled to get up, Edward placed the poker into the roaring fire, allowing it to become red hot. He held the poker against his wife's bare limbs, causing severe burns below and between the knees, as well as her hips and groin. The most graphic description of Edward's next actions appear in the February 22, 1891 edition of the Wilkes-Barre News-Dealer:

Wherever the iron was applied it burned deep into the flesh and left an ugly wound from which the blood spurted and trickled. The flesh quivered and sputtered as the iron sank into it and the room was soon filled with the nauseating stench of burning human flesh... The odor of the burning flesh and the sight of the blood seemed only to arouse still more fiendish thoughts within his rum-soaked brain, for in the next instant he had thrust his poker into the fire again and allowed it become red hot. He then repeatedly thrust it into her loins and abdomen, fairly roasting her internally and causing the blood to spurt in streams from the apertures.

He went still further and laid the red hot poker upon her hips and breast in a dozen different places, until that portion of her body resembled a piece of beefsteak just from the broiler, covered with broad, dark strokes from which the blood flowed... He quickly grabbed an old pair of tongs, such as blacksmith's use. These he heated red hot and then thrust them into his wife's already mutilated body and attempted to tear her flesh apart piece by piece and tear out her intestines... By this time her internal wounds began to bleed profusely and she was soon lying in a large pool of blood that covered the greater portion of the floor of the middle room, or kitchen, on the first floor.

County Detective Phillips-- whose investigation would help convict Edward McMillan-- later declared that the butchery was even worse than what had appeared in print. Only after McMillan's trial would these gory and shocking details emerge.

Refuses To Finger Culprit

It was at this moment when James McMillan returned from the Bender house and discovered his father asleep on the kitchen bench and his blood-soaked mother gasping for breath on the floor. He ran to the home of a neighbor, Mrs. Eileen McGowan, who, along with her daughter Katie, accompanied the teenager to the house, where they found Ann McMillan on her back by the door leading from the kitchen to the parlor. The floors, walls, and furniture were dripping with blood. Edward tried to leave the kitchen, but his path was blocked by the motionless mass of his wife, who, astoundingly, was still alive and conscious. He dragged her body to the center of the room, while explaining to the astonished onlookers that Ann had tripped and fell against the hot stove. He then went upstairs, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

After Edward had gone upstairs Mrs. McGowan asked Ann what had really happened, but she refused (or was unable) to say anything. Blood streamed from her nose and ears, but the neighbors were not yet aware of the extent of her injuries. Only when they tried to lift her from the floor did they realize what Edward had done. He soon came downstairs with a roll of carpet, which he placed on a sofa, and lifted his wife onto it. "What caused her to bleed so much?" demanded Mrs. McGowan.

"The laws of nature were the cause of it," replied Edward. Noticing that Ann was growing deathly pale from the loss of blood, Mrs. McGowan ordered James to find a doctor. The teenager went to Wyoming and summoned Dr. Hayes, who arrived at the house around eleven o'clock. By this time several neighbors had arrived to tend to the injured woman. Ann McMillan was able to speak, but still she refused to accuse her husband. The only words she spoke were about a son who had recently been killed in the mines at Maltby. She asked when he was coming home before her words became unintelligible. 

The doctor examined Ann's wounds and concluded they could not have been caused by falling into the stove. He immediately suspected the true cause of her gruesome injuries when a neighbor, Mary Ward, picked up the poker to stir the fire and screamed-- her hands were covered in blood. The doctor also located the tongs, with human fresh burned to the iron. Dr. Hayes realized the wounds were fatal and that removing Ann to the hospital would do no good. The doctor voiced his concerns to Chief of Police Hugh McGuire, who ordered Constable Michael Walsh to place Edward McMillan under arrest. While locked up in the borough jail, Edward refused to answer questions about the incident, insisting that he had been too drunk to remember anything.

1873 map showing Sturmerville. McMillan's house stood near the railroad tracks.

 

The Death of Ann McMillan

Ann McMillan lingered until three o'clock Sunday morning. "Oh, Eddie," she sighed, before closing her eyes for the final time. A steady stream of friends and neighbors came to the McMillan home to pay their respects, but kept the affair a secret so as not to attract a crowd of the morbidly curious. A blanket was placed over the body to conceal Ann's blood-soaked dress. Coroner William F. Pier arrived at eleven o'clock and empaneled a jury for the inquest. The post-mortem examination made that afternoon by Dr. Hilerman revealed that the victim's internal wounds had been even more severe than Dr. Hayes had realized. They were amazed at the middle-aged woman's ability to cling to life despite her ghastly wounds, though the hot metal had probably succeeded in cauterizing the blood vessels and staunching the flow of blood. 

Later that afternoon, after the community had learned the true nature of Ann's death, Edward was taken from his cell and publicly marched to Magistrate McCawley's office in front of an enormous crowd. He was committed to the county jail to await trail for murder. He begged for a chance to see his wife one last time; the request was denied. While in the borough lock-up, however, Edward did reveal to another prisoner the cause of the fatal argument. Their eldest son, who resided in Plymouth, had sent Ann $15 so that she could pay some bills. Edward asked his wife for some of the money in order to purchase whiskey. She refused.

The inquest was held at five o'clock on Monday, February 16, at the Mackin House in Sturmerville. Fifteen witnesses testified, including Dr. Hayes, Eileen and Katie McGowan, and Mary Ward, the neighbor who discovered the blood on the poker. Testimony was also given by Dr. Hileman, who stated that several pieces of coal and cinders were found inside Ann's abdominal cavity; Edward had evidently grabbed them with the tongs and put them inside the open wound. James McMillan was also asked to testify, but he refused. After a short deliberation, the jury rendered an obvious verdict, that Ann McMillan's death had been caused by her husband. On Tuesday, a son from Plymouth took charge of the remains and had them buried in an undisclosed location (presumably Hanover Green Cemetery).

McMillan on Trial, Gruesome Details Divulged

On April 29, Edward McMillan was arraigned and entered a plea of not guilty. The court appointed two attorneys, E.J. McGovern and P.A. O'Boyle to defend him. Jury selection began on the afternoon of June 23,  and the trial got under way the following morning with Judge Woodward presiding and Assistant District Attorney Clark as prosecutor. 

Dr. Hileman was the first witness called and he described, in graphic detail, the injuries he found on the body during his post-mortem examination and the manner in which they had been inflicted, along with the startling admission that the murderer had also used the red-hot iron tongs to insert hot coals into the victim's "pubic and rectal cavities", creating a five and a half inch gash. While additional witnesses helped cement the case against McMillan, their testimony was of little consequence-- Hileman's testimony alone was enough to turn the stomachs of every juror-- and the fact that one of the jurors, James O'Brien, was a city detective who had worked dozens of homicide cases, didn't exactly help McMillan's chances of escaping the gallows.

While it is virtually impossible to sympathize with the defendant, it is possible to sympathize with McMillan's attorneys. Tasked with defending the perpetrator of the most sadistic slaying in the history of Luzerne County-- a man who killed simply because his wife wouldn't give him fifty cents to buy whiskey-- attorneys McGovern and O'Boyle had to grasp at straws. Since McMillan claimed to have no recollection of his actions, the defense was built around the premise that Ann's injuries could have been self-inflicted, brought on by a combination of intoxication and menopause. During cross-examination, Dr. Hileman shot down this theory; he had examined the victim's uterus, and Ann had gone through "that change of life" years earlier. 

Edward McMillan took the stand shortly before three o'clock and declared that he had no memory of the killing. According to McMillan, he didn't even learn that his wife was dead until after he had woken up in the borough lock-up. At 3:40 the defense rested and E.J. McGovern made a two hour closing argument, insisting there was no evidence proving that Edward had actually committed the murder. At six o'clock court was adjourned and the following morning commenced with an even longer plea by McMillan's other defense attorney, P.A. O'Boyle. The jurors, however, were not swayed. At 4:15, Edward McMillan was found guilty of murder in the first degree. On September 21, he was sentenced to death by Judge Woodward.

The killer resigned himself to his fate, even as his attorneys appealed for a commutation of his sentence. On the day they appeared in Harrisburg before the Board of Pardons, a reporter interviewed McMillan in the Luzerne County Prison. "I don't care whether they get me a pardon or not," said McMillan. "I feel kind of tired of living in prison and don't care whether I live or die... Say, do you know, I really want to die. I want to meet my wife in heaven. I think she will love me yet."

When the reporter asked whether it was true that local women were sending him flowers, the killer denied the rumor with a tone of disgust. "No, the ladies never sent me any flowers. A newspaper said some time ago that the ladies of Franklin and River street were sending me bouquets every day. What do you think they'd find in me to admire? An old, ugly miner who killed his wife when he was drunk! Now, leave me alone with my Bible. I am waiting for the day. I'm not anxious to hear the result of the lawyers' journey, either, because I am satisfied to die."

 

Luzerne County Prison

The Hanging of Edward McMillan

The sun rose bright in a cloudless sky on the morning of June 6, 1892. Recent rains had greened the grass and the air was filled with the songs of birds, oblivious to the grim scene unfolding beneath their wings. As carpenters assembled the scaffold in the courtyard, those bearing tickets issued by the deputy sheriff trickled through the prison gates, eager to witness the execution of the killer dubbed "The Demon of Sturmerville". Meanwhile, on the high hilltop just behind the jail several hundred spectators assembled while dozens of children climbed trees for a better view. It was just before ten o'clock when the last bolt was screwed into place the trap door of the scaffold was tested. The instrument of death, with its two A-braces supporting a crossbeam fifteen feet above the ground, had last been used in the hanging of George Moss in March of 1891, and it appeared to be in perfect working order.

"Mr. McMillan, we have no wish to hurry you at all, but we are ready when you are," said Sheriff Robinson to the condemned man.

"I'm ready now, sir," replied McMillan with a smile. With bright eyes and brisk steps, the killer exhibited remarkable nerve as he walked to the scaffold with a crucifix clutched in his hand, accompanied by his religious advisors, Father McAndrews and Father Donahoe. With steady legs McMillan climbed the ten steps to the platform, the last solid surface his feet would ever touch. The two priests recited a final prayer, then shook the condemned man's hand. Sheriff Robinson asked him if he had anything to say. "No, sir," replied McMillan.

Warden Haines pinioned McMillan's arms at the elbows while the sheriff adjusted the noose around his neck and drew a black cap over his head. At 10:26 a loud snap pierced the silence as the trap was sprung, before half the crowd was prepared for it. Though his neck was snapped instantly, McMillan's heart continued to beat for nine and a half minutes after the drop and the body was allowed to hang until 10:40, when it was finally cut down. At that moment the platform was swarmed by a dozen men scrambling for pieces of the rope to keep as a memento. After the autopsy had been performed Undertaker Duron took charge of the body, which was placed in an imitation rosewood coffin before being conveyed to Hanover Green Cemetery for burial.

Aftermath and Legacy

With the Whitechapel murders still fresh in the minds of many Americans, Edward McMillan was often compared to the world's most famous killer by Luzerne County newspapers. The Wilkes-Barre Evening Leader wrote after the hanging: The crime for which McMillan suffered ignominiously does not merely challenge Luzerne County history for its brutality-- it exceeds even the horrible atrocities of Whitechapel and the butcheries of Jack the Ripper. 

As the whiskey-fueled murder of Ann McMillan occurred at the beginning of the "third wave" temperance movement in the United States (the Anti-Saloon League would be formed by Howard Hyde Russell just one year after Edward McMillan's execution), the case was frequently cited by those lecturing on the evils of liquor, and it is undoubtedly true that many Pennsylvanians who never touched a bottle in their lives-- or those who put down the bottle for good-- had been "scared straight" by the cautionary tale of Ann and Edward McMillan, whose thirty-six year marriage came to a tragic end in Sturmerville on Valentine's Day of 1891.



Sources:

Wilkes-Barre News-Dealer, Feb. 16, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre Record, Feb. 17, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre Union Leader, Feb. 20, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre News-Dealer, Feb. 22, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre Record, June 26, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre News-Dealer, Sept. 22, 1891.
Wilkes-Barre News-Dealer, Dec. 22, 1891.

Wilkes-Barre Evening Leader, June 6, 1892.