by Steve Vernon
“All this time, everybody was talking, and Mr. McCarthy, he was talking right along with them, and then his words got harder and harder to understand, and I guess that white powder was mortifizing him really good. He knew something was wrong, and he called out for his wife, Helen, over and over, and his son, Hazen, as well. I don’t think he knew where he was by that point. Then he just lay there breathing slowly, like a winded horse, and Mrs. Osborne walked over and took that wad of money from out of his pocket.
“She offered me some, but I wouldn’t take it. And then she said to Harry, ‘If you put him anywhere, he will know where his money has got to when he wakes up, and we will all be taken up by the law for it.’
“She was looking right at me when she said ‘we all,’ but then Harry looked right back at her and said, ‘Mother, if you think he will come to and cause us trouble, let me finish him right here.’
“Mrs. Osborne, she took a hatchet from behind the bar and handed it to Harry and told him, ‘Strike him only the once, and kill him right the once.’ So Harry took the hatchet and struck Mr. McCarthy behind his right ear. He fell, and the blood rushed out of his mouth and his nose. Harry said, ‘He is not dead yet,’ and then he struck him again in the very same spot, and then he was.
“After he was dead, Harry took his watch and searched his pockets for what money he could find. Then he fetched a horse and a wagon to the door. He brought a large grey stone into the house, about a foot long and six inches wide by four inches thick. Then he took a rope and tied a slip knot around the stone and a tight knot around Mr. McCarthy’s neck. Then he took the family Bible, and he made me swear to never say a word to anyone about what I’d seen. Then he told me to help him to get the body to the river but I wouldn’t go. I said I would scrub the blood from the floor, since I had been scrubbing already, and that seemed to make Mrs. Osborne happy. Harry wasn’t so sure. He still wanted to do something about me talking, but Mrs. Osborne told him not to worry. She said that I had sworn on the Bible, and that I would always be working for them, and who would I tell anyway. So Harry took the body down to the river, and he carefully backed the wagon up to the water, and then he used two long, wooden poles to roll Mr. McCarthy’s body down into the gulping river water.”
The Osbornes used the money to pay off a few debts. Eliza shortened the sleeves of Timothy McCarthy’s waterproof overcoat so that it would fit Harry. Martha Osborne warned Harry never to wear the coat in Moncton, for fear of someone recognizing the garment.
“I kept the secret for as long as I could,” Annie Parker said. “On account of I had sworn on the Bible. I did go down to the river by the bridge where Harry had said he dumped the body, and I saw wagon tracks in the mud. I kept it secret right until January, but then I couldn’t keep it quiet any longer. I could feel that secret getting colder and colder inside my soul, like a chunk of ice that was hardening fast about my heart, until I finally could take no more.
“I got up this morning and I come straight to your office and started talking, and now you know the whole sorry truth of it all.”
The Initial Hearing and Inquest
The entire Osborne family, including John, was arrested on Sunday, January 20, 1878, and taken by wagon to Moncton, where they spent the night in the local jail. The hearing began the very next morning at eleven o’clock, at the Moncton courtroom in Dunlap’s Hall on Duke Street. The judge presiding was Magistrate Jacob Wortman. The lawyers for the defence were W. J. Gilbert and C. A. Holstead, while lawyer R. A. Borden was in charge of the prosecution.
Annie Parker repeated her initial testimony in much the same way as she had first stated it. Postmaster Chipman Smith and bartender Martin Macdonald corroborated Timothy McCarthy’s early activities. McCarthy’s wife, Helen, testified as to the conditions in which her husband had left her. She also testified that McCarthy was prone to carrying large rolls of money on his person. He never worried too much about wrongdoers, having a basically trusting nature as he did.
Much was said about Annie Parker’s character, and people began to wonder just how trustworthy the young girl actually was. There was some talk of how Annie might have been making a living since leaving the employ of the Osborne family. Others held the suspicion that Annie’s entire testimony was nothing more than an attempt to extort money from either the Osbornes or the McCarthy family.
However, after hearing the evidence both for and against the Osbornes, Judge Wortman committed the Osborne family for trial at the next sitting of the Supreme Court seven months later in Dorchester.
On May 11, 1878—four months after the initial hearing—the body of Timothy McCarthy was finally found by a pair of loggers who were poling a raft full of timber down the Scoudouc River, bound for the Smith Mill. The body was discovered about three or four hundred metres away from the bridge from which Annie Parker testified that Harry Osborne had pushed Timothy McCarthy’s body.
Had Annie told the truth? There was indeed a rope tied to McCarthy’s neck. However, there was no sign of the rock that Harry Osborne had reportedly used to weigh the body down.
Further investigation showed that there was a wound behind McCarthy’s left ear that might have been made by a sharp blow. He was wearing the waterproof overcoat that Annie Parker had sworn Osborne had stolen. In his right pocket was $52. In his left pocket was $207. He also carried a piece of silver and a solid gold pocket watch that Annie had also said were stolen, as well as a fully loaded seven-shot revolver.
The inquest was performed the day after the body was discovered. Several local physicians, including Coroner D. L. Hanington, performed the autopsy, in which it was agreed that Timothy McCarthy’s death could have happened in much the way that Annie Parker originally described it.
Annie Parker was called to testify at the coroner’s inquest, and repeated her story for the third time. However, this time she added the detail that Timothy McCarthy had told her that he was leaving his wife Helen and was travelling to Prince Edward Island later that week. She stuck to her version of the story in regards to the disposal of Timothy McCarthy’s waterproof overcoat.
Agnes Buchanan, a friend of Annie’s, swore that Annie Parker had told her that Mrs. McCarthy was going to “keep her living like a lady” if she would only stick to her story that the Osborne family had indeed killed her husband. “I believe Annie may have been drinking at the time that she told me this story,” Agnes allowed. “Actually, come to think of it, I might have been drinking at the very same time as well.”
The inquest officially ended on June 2, 1878, with a hung jury. It was determined that due to these inconclusive results, it would be necessary for the Osborne family to stand trial. The jury was subsequently dismissed.
A week later the river was dragged, and a rock matching Annie’s description of the one Harry Osborne had used to weigh down McCarthy’s body was found in the immediate vicinity of where McCarthy’s remains were discovered.
The First Trial
The first official trial of the Osborne family began on July 18, 1878. The Dorchester courtroom was packed with spectators, so many that the floorboards gave way beneath the weight of the onlookers, necessitating a brief adjournment while hasty repairs were made to the courtroom floor.
Annie Parker repeated her testimony for a fourth time, and by now she had it memorized by heart. She had been staying in the Hampton jailhouse since the case had first begun because authorities feared both for her safety and for the possibility that she might run out on them.
Such fears appeared to be groundless. Annie was quite enjoying her prestige as the woman who would bring the Osborne family to justice, and put them in jail, once and for all. Remember, Annie was still in her late teens, and it did not take an awful lot to work up her enthusiasm.
The Osbornes’ lawyer, A. L. Palmer, raised doubts that a seventeen-year-old boy could move a fully grown man by himself. He further went on to suggest that perhaps Timothy McCarthy
had merely fallen from the bridge in a state of drunken stupor, and perhaps had broken his skull upon a piling before drowning—which would not explain the rope that was found about his neck, nor the rock that might possibly have been originally tied to the victim.
Palmer also called upon a dentist named Campbell and two travelling salesman, who all swore that they had stayed at the Waverly Hotel on the night in question and had heard nothing out of the ordinary. Palmer also hinted that perhaps McCarthy’s wife, Helen, was behind the murder, although he could offer no actual proof to that insinuation beyond Agnes Buchanan’s previous testimony.
Palmer proved to be quite a showman. At one point in the proceedings he donned McCarthy’s hat and handed Annie Parker the hatchet that the defendant had allegedly used to kill McCarthy. Annie raised the hatchet nervously and then gently tapped the lawyer behind the ear. Later that day when asked if she “cared much for boys,” Annie coyly replied that she far preferred married men, and certainly handsome ones such as lawyer Palmer.
The trial went on without intermission until August 23, 1878, when, after an eleven-hour deliberation, the jury finally announced that, like the jury at the inquest, they too were unable to reach a conclusive decision upon the verdict. The members of the second jury found themselves hung in indecision and were also dismissed, which meant that there would have to be a second trial for the Osborne family.
While the court prepared for another trial, John Osborne was released on bail. His family remained securely behind bars, as did Annie Parker.
On the morning of November 13, 1878, a third jury sat down to try the Osborne family. The trial continued until December 16, 1878, and ended again with a split decision. Insider sources suggested that the vote was divided between seven jurors in favour of a conviction, and five jurors in favour of an acquittal.
After a hearing, an inquest, three juries, two sets of lawyers, and two trials, the Osborne family was declared to be innocent of all wrongdoing.
Annie’s Own Hearing
Given the debatable veracity of Annie’s testimony, it was decided that she would have to stand before a hearing to determine whether or not she needed to be tried for the crime of perjury. The Osborne family had apparently insisted upon pressing charges. Fortunately, Annie wasn’t all that hard to find. She was living with Timothy McCarthy’s widow, Helen McCarthy. It seems the two had somehow bonded.
Annie seemed a little weary of yet another appearance in court, telling one of the lawyers that he “had too much talk in him for such a little man.”
Dr. Campbell—the dentist whom defence lawyer A. L. Palmer had originally called to stand in the Osbornes’ second trial—had a somewhat different story to tell this time around.
“As I look back,” Campbell testified, “I can recall coming down one morning to find the barroom had been freshly scrubbed. I cannot remember if it was the morning following Timothy McCarthy’s disappearance, but it very well might have been. I remember overhearing Harry Osborne and Annie Parker having a heated argument. In this argument, I heard Annie say to Mr. Osborne that she ‘knew enough to send him to Dorchester,’ to which Osborne replied that he ‘knew enough to send her to Hell.’”
When asked why, exactly, he did not mention this at the last trial, the dentist replied, “I am afraid of the Osbornes, and Annie Parker as well. I am afraid of what they might do if I spoke the truth of the matter. However, I will say this: if Annie Parker said that she saw Harry Osborne kill Timothy McCarthy, then I will not contradict her.”
When further pressed, Campbell had this to say: “My opinion is my own; however, I feel that the Osbornes are dangerous. On certain points I will tell all that I know. On others I will not. The law cannot compel me otherwise.”
After all the trouble that had been gone through, the Crown finally decided to drop all charges against Annie. She would not stand trial. Annie was absolutely relieved. Later that year, she even sold tickets and gave short talks on the ordeal, charging twenty-five cents a person. She made a little money from her venture, and shortly thereafter either left town or completely disappeared.
As for the Osborne family, they eventually relocated and settled in the city of Boston, Massachusetts. Amazingly enough, the murder of Timothy McCarthy remains an unsolved mystery to this very day.
flypaper tea anda royal pardon
William Preeper
Musquodoboit, Nova Scotia
1887
It was Saturday, October 15, 1887. Peter Doyle had risen early. He wanted to get a good start on the day. It was a lovely, fine morning, and the sun had already burned off the morning mist. He hayed down the horses, cleaned up the stalls, and tended to what chores needed seeing to.
Peter Doyle groaned, and massaged his aching back. At fifty-seven years old, he sure wasn’t getting any younger. He was grateful for the help of his hired man, William Preeper. Mind you, Preeper wasn’t that big on conversation, but he was always there when Doyle needed him, following him about the farm as closely as if he were Peter Doyle’s very own shadow.
“We done yet?” Preeper asked.
Doyle smiled. “We’re about as done as we’re going to get, I guess,” he said. “We might as well head for the house before I drop dead from hunger.” The two of them headed home for breakfast.
Peter’s wife, Jane, was waiting for him in the kitchen, along with his seven-year-old stepson, Maurice, and three-year-old son, Frank. Breakfast was hot and steaming and it looked delicious, but as he sat down, Peter Doyle felt his appetite waning. He poked a fork into his hotcakes.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Jane asked.
He put a hand on his stomach and grimaced. “My gut is acting up again,” he told her. “I’m sure it will pass.”
Doyle had been having problems with his digestion most of the summer. He blamed it on working too hard and getting older and the pounds that he had accumulated over the years.
When he’d eaten what he could manage to get down, he dressed himself in his best white shirt, black tie, and grey homespun jacket, and his dark trousers, which were worn shiny at the knees but still quite serviceable.
“Time for church,” he told his family. “I’d best be going.” Jane kissed him on the cheek and bade him farewell.
Doyle walked two kilometres to his nearest neighbour, a farmer named Miller. Once a month, Miller welcomed local Catholics to his barn, where an Enfield circuit priest by the name of Reverend Father Desmond held monthly services for those of the Catholic faith. Jane, being a diehard Protestant woman, did not attend. Neither did her children.
Following the service, Peter Doyle headed for home. He never made it.
Missing
Two days later, on Monday, October 17, 1887, Jane Doyle walked a whole kilometre along with her children to the Ledwidge farm.
“I’m worried about Peter,” Jane told Robert Ledwidge. “He came home from church service about three o’clock on Saturday and then decided to go hunting. He never returned. I’m worried he might have fallen somewhere. He’s been having trouble with his stomach and I’m worried for his heart.” Jane wasn’t quite telling the whole truth—but Ledwidge didn’t know that.
Robert Ledwidge hitched a team and a wagon, and asked two of his hired hands to accompany him. The three of them drove Jane, Maurice, and Frank back to their farmhouse. Then, with the aid of Jane’s directions, Ledwidge and his hired hands set out along the path that Peter Doyle had taken on his hunting expedition. They searched until late evening with no results. Ledwidge drove his team and wagon to the village of Guysborough Road and gathered a group of worried neighbours.
The next morning, Tuesday, October 18, 1887, there were dozens of Guysborough residents combing the surrounding wilderness with very little to show for their efforts.
On Wednesday morning the villagers were joined by John E. MacDonald, a Guysborough lumberer who had brought his entire logging crew to search for
the missing Peter Doyle. “We’ll look in another direction,” MacDonald said. “There’s a small logging road that he might have followed. We’ll try there.”
MacDonald and his crew followed the wood road until they spotted a set of footprints in a soft patch of moss. “This way,” MacDonald said. “Follow me.”
One of MacDonald’s loggers found Peter Doyle’s remains in an orchard just off of the lumber road. “There he is,” he called out. “I’ve found him.”
MacDonald raised his rifle and hastily fired a couple of shots into the air to alert the other searchers. “This doesn’t make much sense,” MacDonald said. “I mean, just look at the man.”
Peter Doyle’s body was still dressed in his best church-going apparel. He was sitting almost upright, propped against a large, grey boulder. His head was thrown back on his shoulders as if he was looking up at something above him. His hat was tangled in the snarling branches of a young spruce tree directly behind him. Doyle’s large, muzzle-loading musket lay a few feet in front of him, where he’d dropped it. His powder horn and half-smoked pipe of tobacco lay in the dirt at his side. There was a single bullet wound midway down his back.
“It looks to me like he’s been dead for the last couple of days,” MacDonald noted. “Although, what a man would be doing hunting in his Sunday best suit and tie is completely beyond my reckoning.”
They wrapped the body in a blanket and carried it to Doyle’s home, where Dr. McKay of Musquodoboit performed a hasty inquest and autopsy in the shelter of Doyle’s barn, which resulted in a verdict of “shot to death by an unknown hand.”
