NEWS

120-year-old beheading still fascinates

Cameron Knight
cknight@enquirer.com
An illustration of Pearl Bryan from a 1896 edition of The Enquirer.

Men were hanged. Ballads were written. Ghost stories were told. And one woman's head is still missing. This month marks the anniversary of a notorious local murder that has gripped imaginations for 120 years.

If the name Pearl Bryan rings a bell, it could be due to the widely publicized ghost stories involving Bobby Mackey's Music World in Wilder. Most recently, the honky tonk was featured the television shows "Ghost Adventures" and "Ghost Hunters."

Putting the paranormal aside, Bryan's murder near Fort Thomas in 1896 got national attention. In addition to extensive local coverage, The New York Times published articles throughout the investigation and trial, capping its coverage with a lengthy piece when the killers were executed.

From the beginning, Bryan's death was mysterious. On Feb. 2, the day after her body was found, The Enquirer ran the following headline on the front page: "HEADLESS, a woman's body lay within a stone's throw of Ft. Thomas."

It took days to identify the body after a local farmhand named John Hulling found her thrown in some bushes. Even more egregious was that an autopsy revealed the woman was pregnant.

An illustration that appeared in the Enquirer showing the clues and investigation tools used following the Pearl Bryan murder in 1896

In an incredible show of sleuthing, two Cincinnati detectives were able to get a break in the case by studying the shoes they found on the body.

Made in a tiny size by a small Indiana company, the shoes led the detectives to the cobbler who made them. They learned only two women had purchased shoes in that size.

One was alive, the other was 23-year-old Bryan, the daughter of a wealthy Indiana farmer and businessman.

Her family was notified and pointed detectives to Scott Jackson, a 28-year-old student at Ohio College of Dental Surgery. One detective later said that Bryan had gone to meet Jackson to marry him after she learned she was pregnant.

Another interview with a coachman revealed that Bryan was last seen near Fort Thomas with Jackson and his fellow student and roommate, 20-year-old Alonzo Walling. Both were arrested in a boarding house on West Ninth Street. Each accused the other of the murder.

An illustration that appeared in the Enquirer in 1896 after the murder of Pearl Bryan

In a scene that would never happen in today's court system, the two men were taken to the funeral home where Bryan's family waited.

With Bryan's headless body on display in a white graduation dress, her sister dropped to her knees and begged Jackson to reveal where he had hidden the head.

"I can't tell you anything about it," Jackson was said to reply in accounts from that time.

It was revealed during the trial that Bryan's cousin, Will Wood, wrote to Jackson when the family learned the unwed Bryan was pregnant. Jackson promised Wood he could "fix her," to protect the family's reputation, according to Enquirer archives.

Letters that were submitted into evidence showed that Jackson had planned to have Walling help perform an abortion, but soon Walling realized that Jackson intended to poison her and make the death look like a suicide.

The autopsy revealed a fatal injection of prussic acid caused Bryan's death. It's unclear if the purpose of the injection was to cause an abortion or to kill.

The trial was complete by the middle of the summer. More than 100 witnesses were called to Jackson's defense, and according to the New York Times, some were paid to commit perjury. The evidence at the time was described as "circumstantial, but complete."

Woods later faced federal charges for advising Jackson on chemicals and procedures that could be used to end pregnancies.

One of the detectives later speculated that Jackson chose to kill Bryan after she refused to undergo an abortion, which was illegal at the time.

Jackson and Walling were sentenced to be hanged and the execution was scheduled for the following March.

Walling always claimed he had nothing to do with the murder, but did admit on the stand that he knew Jackson planned to kill Bryan and did not warn her. Jackson seemed to remain largely remorseless until the day of his execution.

Illustrations of Scott Jackson and Alonzo Wallace from a 1896 edition of the Enquirer.

The two smoked cigars after eating dinner around midnight before the morning of their executions at the Newport jail. Walling was able to fall asleep, Jackson talked and joked with officers until late into the night.

They woke just before 6 a.m. After breakfast, a reverend was admitted to their holding cell. He sang the hymn "Home Sweet Home." Both men joined in.

The Sheriff Jule Plummer then asked if either of the men had anything else they wanted to say. In a surprising turn, Jackson penned a letter to the governor admitting full responsibility.

"Walling is not guilty of this crime. I am," he wrote.

The sheriff saw that Jackson's confession was sent by telegraph. The governor replied that unless Jackson would provide the details and circumstances surrounding the death that would prove Walling's innocence that both men should still be executed.

Walling, perhaps sensing there was hope, appealed to meet with the mayor. He begged for a 30-day reprieve.

"Now Lon, I want you to tell me where the head is," the mayor said.

Walling said he didn't know and wouldn't lie now. No reprieve was granted.

Jackson was presented with the governor's proposal and left alone to think it over. Plummer worried what the large and excitable crowd gathered around the gallows would do if both men didn't die that day.

Later when asked for his answer, Jackson replied, "I have nothing further to tell you. I have nothing to say."

As Walling was led from jail, he pointed at Jackson and said, "That man can save me if he will. I die an innocent man. I was not there when she was killed."

Both men were hanged simultaneously.

An illustration that appeared in the Enquirer in 1897 following the execution of Scott Jackson and Alonzo Walling.

The next day, The Enquirer's front page headline read, "Sheathed is Justice's Sword." Jackson's body was cremated to prevent vandals and thieves from desecrating it.

In 1966, Enquirer crime reporter Jaan Kangilaski penned a column lamenting that only a few old-timers and crime buffs remembered the gruesome murder of Bryan.

He recalled the ballad that was written about the slaying.

"Her aged parents, we know full well, what a fortune they would give. If Pearl could but to them return, her natural state to live. In came Pearl Bryan's sister and falling to her knees, begging of Scott Jackson: My sister's head, O' please!"

He recalled the killing was deemed the "crime of the century," and now more than 100 years later, the story of Bryan's murder has been retold on television, in books and on the Internet.

It seems far from forgotten.