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Product Details

  • Paperback: 416 pages
  • Publisher: Ballantine Books (August 7, 2012)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0345524470
  • ISBN-13: 978-0345524478
  • Product Dimensions: 9.1 x 7.3 x 1 inches
  • Shipping Weight: 1.7 pounds (View shipping rates and policies)
  • Average Customer Review: 4.1 out of 5 stars  See all reviews (34 customer reviews)
  • Amazon Best Sellers Rank: #157,531 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)

Editorial Reviews

About the Author

A professor of American literature and culture at Queens College, Harold Schechter is the dean of American true crime. The author of more than thirty books, he is best known for his historical true-crime writing. His essays have appeared in various newspapers and magazines, including The New York Times, Los Angeles Times, The Wall Street Journal, and the International Herald Tribune. He lives in Brooklyn and Mattituck, New York, with his wife, the poet Kimiko Hahn.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

I

Fiends of the Early Republic

1782-1826

WILLIAM BEADLE, FAMILY ANNIHILATOR

The different eras in our nation’s social history have been distinguished not only by their specific fads and fashions—the kinds of clothes people wore, food they ate, music they listened to, slang they spoke, and so on—but also by the particular criminal types that captured the public imagination: the tommy-gun-toting gangsters of the 1920s, the switchblade-wielding juvenile delinquents of the 1950s, the sex-crazed psycho killers of the 1970s, and—in our own post-9/11 age—the suicidal mass murderers, whether school and workplace shooters or apocalyptic terrorists.

During the early years of the Republic, for reasons that historians and sociologists have been at pains to understand, America was gripped by fears of a new kind of killer: the so-called family annihilator, the formerly loving father and husband who, in a sudden fit of homicidal frenzy, hideously slaughtered his children and wife. And of these nightmarish figures, perhaps the most infamous was William Beadle, perpetrator of what one contemporary described as “a crime more atrocious and horrible” than any ever committed in New England “and scarcely exceeded in the history of man.”

Born in England in 1730, Beadle emigrated to America at the age of thirty-two and eventually settled in the village of Wethersfield, Connecticut, where he operated a country store stocked with an unusually “handsome assortment of goods.” Surviving documents show him to have been possessed by the sort of overweening egotism typical of family annihilators. Though acknowledging his unprepossessing looks, he regarded himself as far superior to the run of humanity. “My person is small and mean to look on,” he wrote in one journal entry, “and my circumstances were always rather narrow, which were great disadvantages in the world. But I have great reason to think that my soul is above the common mould.” In his self-conceit, he likened himself to “a diamond among millions of pebbles.”

For several years his business thrived. Fiercely proud of his success, he maintained a handsome residence and entertained guests in grand style. He was held in high esteem by his neighbors, who saw him as an honorable tradesman, generous host, loving husband, and doting father.

In the aftermath of the Revolutionary War, however, Beadle suffered reversals that left him in dire financial straits. Unable to “bear the mortification of being thought poor and dependent,” he struggled to keep “up the outward appearance of his former affluence.” Eventually, however, he succumbed to despair. The thought of being perceived as a failure by his townsmen was more than he could tolerate. “If a man, who has once lived well, meant well, and done well, falls by unavoidable accident into poverty and submits to be laughed at, despised, and trampled on by a set of mean wretches as far below him as the moon is below the sun; I say, if such a man submits, he must become meaner than meanness itself.”

Concluding that suicide was less shameful than poverty, he decided to kill himself and his family. Like other killers of his psychopathic breed, he justified his intended atrocity as an act of kindness, even love. “I mean to close the eyes of six persons through perfect humanity and the most endearing fondness and friendship; for mortal father never felt more of these tender ties than myself.” Initially, he thought he might spare his wife. After much deliberation, however, he concluded that it would be cruel “to leave her behind to languish out a life in misery and wretchedness.” With her entire family suddenly gone, death would be a mercy for her.

As he began to mull over his plan, he “kept hoping that Providence would turn up something to prevent it, if the intent were wrong.” Instead, “every circumstance, from the greatest to the smallest trifle,” only served to convince him that destroying his family was the only sensible course. For a while, he prayed that his twelve-year-old son and three little daughters might perish accidentally, thus sparing him the necessity of killing them. To facilitate that end, he removed the protective wooden cover from the backyard well. He also encouraged them to swim in the deepest and most treacherous parts of the nearby river. When the children stubbornly survived these perils, he resolved to take more direct action.

Though uncertain at first as to when and how he would accomplish his “great affair” (as he described the intended massacre), he had no doubt that he would not quail when the time came. “How I shall really perform the task I have undertaken I know not till the moment arrives,” he wrote in his journal. “But I believe I shall perform it as deliberately and as steadily as I would go to supper, or to bed.”

He eventually fixed on the eighteenth of November for the execution of his plan. He first “procured a noble supper of oysters, that my family and I may eat and drink together, thank God, and then die.” He was forced to abandon his plan, however, when the maid—who had been sent off on an errand—returned unexpectedly and “prevented him for that time.”

A few weeks later, he made another aborted attempt that he described in his journal:

On the morning of the sixth of December, I rose before the sun, felt calm, and left my wife between sleep and wake, went into the room where my infants lay, found them all sound asleep; the means of death were with me, but I had not before determined whether to strike or not, but yet thought it a good opportunity. I stood over them, and asked my God whether it was right or not now to strike; but no answer came: nor I believe ever does to man while on earth. I then examined myself, there was neither fear, trembling, nor horror about me. I then went into a chamber next to that to look at myself in the glass; but I could discover no alteration in my countenanced of feelings: this is true as God reigns, but for further trial I yet postponed it.

Five days later, in the early morning hours of December 11, 1782, Beadle finally carried out his atrocity. Tiptoeing into the second-floor bedchamber shared by his four children and the housemaid, he shook the latter awake, then “ordered her to rise gently without disturbing the children” and meet him downstairs. When she appeared several minutes later, he handed her a note for the family physician, Dr. Farnsworth, who lived about a quarter-mile away. His wife, Beadle explained, had been “ill all night.” The housemaid was to proceed to Farnsworth’s home at once, give him the note, and remain there until he “should come with her.”

No sooner had she left on this errand than Beadle hurried into his bedroom, where he had stashed a newly sharpened ax and carving knife. After crushing his sleeping wife’s skull with the ax, he slit her throat with the knife, taking care to drain the blood into a vessel so as not to stain the bedsheets. After covering her face with a handkerchief, he proceeded to the children’s room, where he committed the same butchery upon them. He left the little boy lying in bed. The slaughtered girls were placed side by side on the floor, “like three lambs,” and covered with a blanket.

Leaving a trail of bloody footprints on the stairs, Beadle then descended to the kitchen, placed the ax and knife—“reeking with the blood of his family”—on a table, and seated himself in a Windsor chair by the fireplace. Several weeks earlier, in preparation for this moment, he had brought his two flintlock pistols to the village gunsmith for repair. He now took a pistol in each hand and, supporting his elbows on the arms of the chair, pressed the muzzles against his ears and pulled both triggers simultaneously, “splattering his brains against the walls and wainscoting.”

By then, Dr. Farnsworth had been roused from his bed by the maid and handed the note, which “announced the diabolical purpose of the writer.” Though Farnsworth “thought it impossible that a sober man could adopt so horrible a design,” he immediately alerted his neighbor, the Hon. Stephen Mix Mitchell, later chief justice of the state. The two men then rushed to the Beadles’ house, where they were greeted by the “tragical scene.”

Before long, news of the atrocity had spread throughout the village. “Multitudes of all ages and sexes” overran the house for a firsthand look at the carnage. The scene was described by Judge Mitchell, whose narrative account of the “horrid massacre” became one of the best-selling true crime pamphlets of its day:

The very inmost souls of the beholders were wounded at the sight and torn by contending passions. Silent grief, with marks of astonishment, were succeeded by furious indignation against the author of the affecting spectacle, which vented itself in incoherent exclamations. Some old soldiers, accidentally passing through the town that morning on their way from camp to visit their friends, led by curiosity, turned in to view the sad remains. On sight of the woman and her tender offspring, notwithstanding all their firmness, the tender sympathetic tear stealing gently down their furrowed cheeks betrayed the anguish of their hearts. On being showed the body of the sacrificer, they paused for a moment, then muttering forth an oath or two of execration, with their eyes fixed on the ground in silent sorrow, they slowly went their way. So awful and terrible a disaster wrought wonderfully on the minds of the neighborhood. Nature itself seemed ruffled and refused the kindly aid of balmly sleep for a time.

“Frantic with indignation and horror at a crime so unnatural and monstrous,” the inhabitants of Wethersfield refuse...

More About the Author

Harold Schechter is an American true crime writer who specializes in serial killers. He attended the State University of New York in Buffalo where his PhD director was Leslie Fiedler. He is professor of American literature and popular culture at Queens College of the City University of New York.Schechter is married to poet Kimiko Hahn. He has two daughters from a previous marriage: the writer Lauren Oliver and professor of philosophy Elizabeth Schechter. His newest book, The Mad Sculptor, (about a sensational triple murder at Beekman Place in New York City in 1937) will be published in February 2014.

Praise for THE MAD SCULPTOR:

"Ambitious, bold, and evocative, Schechter's storytelling grabs the reader in a similar manner to Capote's searing In Cold Blood." --Publishers Weekly
http://www.publishersweekly.com/978-0-544-11431-9

"Perfect for readers who enjoy the stories of the sensationalistic press of the 1930s and its crass exploitation of the details of horrific murders." - Kirkus
https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/harold-schechter/the-mad-sculptor/



Customer Reviews

If you like to read true crime stories, you really should read this book.
R. Larson
What I like most is that it tells the stories of killers we're not aware of, so it's not a repetition of things I already know.
Ana Gam
I couldn't put this book down, some days I read 50 pages straight other days 100 or more.
Damien Quintyne

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

8 of 9 people found the following review helpful By Pensky on September 25, 2012
Format: Paperback Verified Purchase
I thought this was a good read that covered a few of the lesser known serial killers in American history. Each chapter gives an overview of the killer, victims, crimes and punishment, and then a short "sub chapter" usually (and oddly) focuses on a poem or song that reflects the crime at hand.

That said, I thought the analysis of the crimes was a bit strange. A few times, the author mentions how little evidence linked a few suspects to their crimes, yet the author still seems convinced that the right person was caught. A few confessions were only coerced through beatings and torture. True, most seem to be open and shut cases, but the authors willingness to accept the outcome as legitimate sometimes seems biased and sensational.

I enjoyed reading this, but I much preferred Bill James' "Popular Crime". Fans of these kinds of stories will probably like that one. It's the same kind of focus, but James does much more analysis and detective work, which adds some depth to the slightly pornographic feeling you get from just reading about brutal murders.
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5 of 6 people found the following review helpful By emcgrath0845 on September 25, 2012
Format: Paperback Verified Purchase
I loved this book. I couldn't put it down! It's a good read if you are interested in the "serial killers" before they had that label and less known killers. Some of them are even more brutal than that of "famous" killers of our time.
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7 of 9 people found the following review helpful By Janiera on September 2, 2012
Format: Paperback
*This book was given to me by Ballantine Books in exchange for a honest review. Thank you!

---------------------------

I've taken a lot of comfort lately in knowing that I'm not the only one who has a fascination with serial killers. No, I don't condone their hideous activities but I do believe it is necessary to explore just how depraved the human mind can be. I had seen the author of this book, Harold Schechter on one of my favorite shows Deadly Women. As soon as I saw this was available on Netgalley for review I snatched it up. This true crime writer always sounds like he knows his stuff and this book just enforced my belief.

The only non-fiction books I read are true crime books and I've read some that put me to sleep within a few minutes. This was not one of those books. From the introduction to the final word the book kept me hooked to every word and every page. Since I'm a serial killer enthusiast I took it as a challenge to see if this book really had "killers you never heard about," again, the book did not disappoint. This true crime book has a ton of cut-throat, down right revolting criminals that for some reason didn't get the same spotlight treatment as those such as the notorious Ted Bundy or John Wayne Gacy. If you're wondering why that is, reading this book will give you the answers. I loved how Schechter broke down why some crimes and criminals didn't get the spotlight and why some did.

Another thing I enjoyed about the book was reading the "murder ballads" that were literally ballads written about a murder. They were equal to the true crime shows we enjoy today, just in a different form. The author posted excerpts and full ballads they were really interesting (and sometimes heart wrenching) to read.
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2 of 2 people found the following review helpful By Ann E. Nichols on November 12, 2012
Format: Paperback
The skull on the cover didn't bother me at all. Even cozy mysteries had skulls on their covers for years, especially during the 1980s, so I've long since gotten over finding skulls creepy.

Out of this collection of once-famous American serial killers, the Smutty Nose Butcher is the only one I recall ever hearing about before. (That was on a program on one of the Discovery or History channels. If the greater detail this book provides for the case is correct, the program's pick for the murderer is unlikely.)

I found the cases interesting. I particularly appreciated the illustrations, photographs, quotations from contemporary sources, and the added material after the cases (often comparisons with other cases or information about the period, as well as murder ballads, if any). Edmund Pearson's "Rules For Murderesses" on page 294 is funny as well as grim. Of the main cases, the Bath School Disaster of 1927 was the most harrowing. As the author states, it combined features of the Oklahoma City Bombing with the Columbine Massacre, and added a suicide bomber.

The period covered is 1782 to 1961. Here's a list of the killers:

William Beadle, Polly Bodine, Dr. Valorous F. Coolidge, Robert Edwards, Franklin Evans, Charles Freeman, Francis Gouldy,

Samuel Green, Martha Grinder, Carlyle Harris, Julian Harvey, Harry Hayward, William Edward Hickman, Albert Hicks,

Robert Irwin, Scott Jackson, Andrew P. Kehoe, Joseph LaPage, Ada LeBoeuf, Eddie Leonski, Robert McConaghy,

Emeline Meaker, Pearl O' Loughlin, Harry Powers, Anton Probst, Henrietta Robinson, Peter Robinson,

Sarah Jane Robinson, Edward H. Rulloff, Lydia Sherman, Jesse Strang, Louis Wagner, and Return J. M. Ward.
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1 of 1 people found the following review helpful By Colleen @ Here Be Bookwyrms on October 1, 2013
Format: Kindle Edition
"In this book, Schechter has compiled short but gruesome accounts of several of the most shocking murderers in United States history. These men and women were, in their respective times, considered to be the perpetrators of Crimes of the Century - the most vile and atrocious fiends this country had ever seen. But they have since faded into obscurity.

Now, however, Schechter has brought them back...

...Psycho USA is a great read for anyone who is interested in things that are morbidly fascinating. It took me longer than I expected to get through it, but only because school + two jobs leaves me precious little time for leisure reading most of the time. People with less time-consuming schedules could probably get through it in a night or two...

...Another thing I had a tendency to do whilst reading Psycho USA (and another reason this took so much longer than expected to finish) was I'd open up the internet and end up doing searches for the people mentioned in this book, especially the ones brought up in passing but who did not have a chapter dedicated to them...

...There were some technical aspects about the format of the book that I didn't care for, like the way the photo captions were in the same font size as the main text, which was a little confusing until I realized I was looking at a caption, and not misplaced text. That is my only real complaint, though...It was a very interesting read - I'm a fan of any book that prompts further research on my part, so Schechter wins points for that...

...Overall, I rather enjoyed this book, and I'd recommend it. However, and this is probably obvious because of the subject matter, but a lot of the descriptions in this book are pretty detailed, especially those that are in the killers' own words, so if that sort of thing tends to bother you...this might not be the book for you."

(For full review, please visit me at Here Be Bookwyrms on Blogger!)
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