Television programs, such as Law and Order and CSI, have acquainted most people with the modern techniques for solving crimes. However, for most of our past, sleuths did as much as they could to investigate crimes, lacking the most basic of tools. There wasn’t much the sheriff, part-time constable, justice of the peace or coroner could do, except rely on obvious physical evidence and witnesses. As the scientific age arrived, great advances in police science allowed detectives to crack complex cases. Drawing on notorious crimes and real mysteries from yesteryear, this program shows how science, technology and professional police practices helped detectives catch and convict criminals and close once unsolvable cases.
CSI, the Historical Edition — A free program at the Pikesville Branch of the Baltimore County Public Library
While exploring the history of capital punishment in pre-World War II, New Jersey, I stumbled upon an elusive artifact during a visit to the Cape May County Archive in August 2024. As I inquired about 19th-century judicial documents and outlined the scope of my research, the Records Room Supervisor casually mentioned the “Murder Map.”1
Map of the crime scene, February 1894 (Cape May County Archive)
Naturally, that piqued my curiosity, prompting me to ask, “What’s the murder map?” The Deputy Clerk responded by guiding me to a liber in the Hall of Records containing old property maps.2 There, I found myself viewing a unique item stored between sheets of mundane land surveys from the 1890s–Exhibit A for a 130-year-old capital case. It was labeled the “Map of the locality of the MURDER of Sarah Pierce in the vicinity of Goshen,” February 1894.3
This meticulously hand-drawn map, once crucial evidence in a high-profile Cape May County murder trial, was produced by Leaming M. Rice, Jr., a civil engineer. Following the murder on February 19, 1894, the county prosecutor commissioned him to create an accurate survey of the crime scene.4 This surviving drawing offers a rare glimpse into the intersection of emerging forensic science, cartography, police investigative methods, and legal proceedings in the late 19th century.
Examining the map’s detailed annotations, which include the precise location of the victim’s body, the arrangement of structures, the placement of furniture, and other relevant markers, provided a visual representation of the crime scene for the jury. For 21st-century researchers studying the past, it offers valuable insight into the slowly emerging investigative techniques of crime scene investigation in the late 19th century.
Initially presented as evidence at the trial, this haunting map—professionally sketched and measured at a scale of 10 feet to the inch—does more than chronicle a harrowing event; it highlights the nascent stages of systematic criminal investigations in late 19th-century South Jersey, a time when investigations were only beginning to use systematic practices.
This artifact not only sheds light on the specific case of Sarah Pierce but also situates it within a larger framework for understanding the development of crime scene investigations and judicial practices. This serendipitous discovery, with its meticulous rendering, underscores the significance of archival research when investigating the past.
Endnotes
On February 19, 1894, Sarah Pierce was murdered and her husband, Richard PIerce, Jr. was charged. The court found him guilty, and the sheriff hung him in July 1894. ↩︎
Liber refers to a specific type of record-keeping book used in legal contexts. Legalbriefai.com writes: “Think of it as a logbook or ledger where important documents are recorded.” ↩︎
Rice, Leaming R., Jr. Map of the locality of the MURDER of Sarah Pierce in the vicinity of Goshen. February 1894. Cape May County Clerk of the Court’s Office, Cape May County, New Jersey. ↩︎
Fulginiti, Rita Marie. “The Pierce Murder: A Goshen, NJ Tragedy in 1894.” Cape May County Historical Magazine, Special Deputy Clerk, Cape May County, 1990. ↩︎
While researching the history of capital punishment in New Jersey, a peculiar artifact in the catalog of collections at the Atlantic County Historical Society caught my attention: the hangman’s noose with its twisted fibers and knots.1 This seemingly simple object, a piece of material culture, embodies a complex history that intersects directly with the evolution of capital punishment in the State.
As part of my research into the history of judicial executions, I have visited courthouses, jails, historical societies, and archives. Yet no artifact has captured my attention like this rope, a stark symbol of the ultimate punishment once wielded by New Jersey Sheriffs.
This is an artifact in the collection of the Atlantic County Historical Society. It was donated in 1961, and the record notes that Sheriff Daniel E. Iszard used it.
According to the Historical Society, the noose was used during the tenure of Sheriff Daniel E. Iszard and was involved in three executions in Atlantic County. For centuries, the noose has served as a potent symbol of the ultimate authority of the state, an instrument of execution that evokes strong emotions.
The presence of this grim artifact raises additional questions for research about the lawmen who used it, the prisoners who faced the gallows, and the criminal justice system that grappled with its use. It serves as a tangible link to an era when sheriffs were tasked with carrying out judicially ordered death sentences in New Jersey.
Understanding the history of capital punishment requires more than a chronological account of laws and executions. It demands an exploration of intricate primary sources, court records, and material culture. This noose, preserved among the collections of the Atlantic County Historical Society, is a grim artifact that is representative of the legal, social, and cultural shifts in state-ordered executions.
Among the countless artifacts of local history at the Atlantic County Historical Society, the hangman’s noose stands out as physical evidence of the evolution of capital punishment in the state and nation. While I often see photographs of executions and even preserved gallows in my research, this is the first time I have encountered the actual instrument, although I see newspaper stories about spectators taking pieces of the rope as souvenirs.
Notes
John Estell Iszard, Hangmen’s Noose. (Somers Point, NJ: Atlantic County Historical Society) 1961.018.001-.002-.003, artifact in collection. ↩︎
As part of my ongoing research on the history of capital punishment in New Jersey, I recently completed fieldwork along the Jersey Shore. This included visiting various county courthouses, where I examined 19th-century court records. I also visited historic jails and local historical societies.
Last week, I focused specifically on Atlantic County, where I investigated records related to the old jail in May’s Landing, the county seat. Built in 1879, this sturdy structure underwent numerous modifications over the decades. According to a 2000 architectural report, the jail is notable for its distinctive Jersey ironstone walls, arranged in a unique pattern that enhances its historical significance.1
The 1879 Atlantic County Jail in May’s Landing,
In 1906, the county erected an additional structure—the sheriff’s house and office—which still stands on the courthouse square. Despite changes in corrections philosophy and various structural alterations, the aging jail housed inmates until 1964. In 1984, a modern county prison went up outside May’s Landing, leading to the demolition of most of the original complex, except the stone 1879 structure and the sheriff’s house.
While uncovering traces of the past, I noted that Atlantic County executed at least four men before the disagreeable responsibility for capital punishment shifted to the State Prison in Trenton. The last hanging at the Jail occurred on September 20, 1907, when Sheriff Smith E. Johnson hanged Joseph Labriola. It was striking to note that the convicted murderer wearing a tuxedo met his end in the recreation yard. He was served lobster as part of his final meal.2
The convicted murderer wearing a tuxedo met his end in the recreation yard. He had been served lobster as part of his final meal.
Only a few jurors and official witnesses were present to observe the hanging. However, a crowd gathered in the county seat that September day. Just before Labriola was led to the gallows, Deputy Sheriff Enoch Johnson summoned the official spectators to enter the execution yard.
Labriola’s execution marked the last hanging at the Atlantic County Jail and was the next-to-last hanging in New Jersey. A new law mandated the use of the electric chair for executions, ending the era of hangings in the Garden State. Following this change, those sentenced to death were transferred to the state prison in Trenton for execution in the electric chair.
My research into this aspect of New Jersey’s criminal justice history continues.
