It was the biggest story since the Resurrection, according to critic and commentator HL Mencken. Others stuck to the lesser claim that it was ‘the trial of the century.’
Either way, the United States and much of the world beyond were convulsed when, in late 1934, an unemployed carpenter from the Bronx stood up in court charged with the horrific kidnap and murder of baby Charles Lindbergh Jr.
The child’s abduction from the New Jersey home of celebrity aviator Charles Lindbergh and wife Anne echoes down the decades – as does the subsequent trial of the accused kidnapper and murderer, German immigrant Bruno Hauptmann.
Despite maintaining his innocence throughout, Hauptmann was sent to the electric chair on largely circumstantial evidence. Even today, there are widespread doubts about the safety of his conviction.
Just last month, for example, it was announced that a group of forensic scientists is taking legal action demanding that New Jersey State Police release the sinister ransom letters sent at the time, a key part of the prosecution case.
It is hoped that now, after more than 90 years, the same advanced forensic techniques used to identify four Gilgo Beach murder victims could determine whether or not it was Hauptmann who licked the stamps on those letters sent to the Lindbergh family.
Now, a new book ‘The Enigmatic Aviator: Charles Lindbergh, Revisited ‘ by David Hamilton is re-examining the crime that rocked the world.
The baby’s father, Charles Lindbergh, was nothing short of a national sensation before the war – a figure of impossible glamor following his 1927 solo flight, non-stop, from New York to Paris.
Charles photographed with his wife Anne shortly after their marriage
Charles Lindbergh was nothing short of a national sensation before the war – a figure of impossible glamor following his 1927 solo flight, non-stop, from New York to Paris
The arrival of the Lindberghs’ first child, Charles Jr, was met with much fanfare
From that point on, his every movement was tracked by the cut-throat popular press which, in June 1930, announced with much fanfare the arrival of the Lindberghs’ first child.
But on March 1, 1932, in a night of horror, the 20-month-old baby boy was taken from the family home.
Using a home-made ladder of exact length to reach a room upstairs, the kidnapper entered via a faulty window, removed the baby from his crib and left a semi-literate ransom note demanding $50,000. The intruder disappeared without causing alarm, leaving the ladder and a chisel but no fingerprints.
Kidnapping was a common form of extortion from wealthy families at this point in the Depression. The Mob had moved into the so-called ‘snatch racket’ and ransom demands were routinely – and discreetly – paid. The abducted person was safely returned.
The loss of baby Charles was discovered at 10 pm and the discarded three-piece ladder found lying in the garden. The New Jersey State Police arrived quickly.
Although kidnapping was a state and not a federal crime, J Edgar Hoover, director of the FBI, was woken at home and immediately put men on the case.
Lindbergh’s lawyer arrived at the family home, as did the press – in force. Radio stations flashed the news nationally at 11:30 pm.
The usual strategy was to deal privately with kidnappers, but the press were already involved and Lindbergh – to reassure those holding baby Charles – announced publicly that the ransom would be paid.
On March 1, 1932, in a night of horror, the 20-month-old baby boy was taken from the family home
Although kidnapping was a state and not a federal crime, J Edgar Hoover, director of the FBI, was woken at home and immediately put men on the case
A new investigation could determine whether or not it was Hauptmann who licked the stamps on the ransom letters
The search widened and roadblocks were erected throughout the state. The George Washington Bridge connecting New Jersey to Manhattan was closed.
The drama gripped America. Prayers were said in churches. At Madison Square Garden, a boxing match was halted for a reverential three-minute silence. Organizations, including the Boy Scouts, were put on watch for suspicious behavior.
The large Lindbergh house was now a command post. A communication center was established in the garage to deal with a deluge of letters and telegrams. Twenty telephone lines were installed to take the calls.
But the first convincing contact did not come until three days later, on March 4. The message, which included a secret symbol also left on the original ransom note, deplored the involvement of the police, asking if it was necessary ‘to make a world affair out of this?’
Everyone agreed that the underworld must be involved in the kidnapping, and Lindbergh agreed to bring in Mickey Rosner, a mobster who claimed he could sort things out.
Often a trusting man, Lindbergh took Rosner seriously. He remained in the house for a week but was paid off after finally admitting that the kidnap ‘must be the work of an independent.’
Al Capone, the celebrity gangster, offered his services in return for release from jail and an amnesty, but the Lindberghs ultimately turned down his offer.
The kidnapper was again out of touch for a while, but then a second ransom note, posted from New York, increased the demand to $70,000.
The loss of baby Charles was discovered at 10 pm and the discarded three-piece ladder found lying in the garden
A meeting was arranged between Charles (pictured), an intermediary Dr John Condon, and the kidnapper
Eventually, a meeting was arranged between Charles, an intermediary Dr John Condon and the kidnapper. At the night-time rendezvous – a cemetery – Charles listened while Condon was guided by voice to hand over the ransom without the kidnapper being seen.
As agreed, the kidnapper passed over the child’s sleeping suit as proof of his involvement.
The cash paid over was unusual as it included ‘gold certificate’ notes, an older form of currency then being phased out. The numbers on the notes were retained by the police.
The news everyone had feared came on May 12, 72 days after the abduction, when a baby’s body was found five miles south of the Lindbergh home.
A truck driver had pulled over to relieve himself and came upon the baby’s decayed body in a simple burlap – or hessian – bag in the woodland.
The press were summoned and the New York Daily News had a special edition on the streets within 30 minutes.
The baby’s body had been attacked by animals but was identified by Lindbergh from its clothing and physical details including overlapping toes. It was Charles Jr – and he had died from a fractured skull.
It was possible that the kidnapper simply dropped the baby during a difficult descent on the flimsy ladder. Alternatively, he might have planned to kill the boy from the outset yet seek the ransom money all the same.
Everyone agreed that the underworld must be involved in the kidnapping
With the Lindberghs anxious to avoid mawkish memorials, the body was privately cremated, the ashes scattered at sea.
For detectives, the key lead appeared to be the detailed knowledge shown by whoever took the child. The kidnapper had entered the correct room via the correct window, one of 15, on the upper floor. The ladder used was exactly the length required.
There was an additional detail, too: the Lindbergh family usually moved to the estate of Anne’s parents, the Morrows, on Mondays but were unexpectedly staying at their own home that night because the baby had a cold.
It seemed the kidnapper had traveled to the scene with great confidence that night, armed with detailed knowledge of how and where to find his victim.
Had one of the servants – and in particular someone in the large and wealthy Morrow household – played a part in revealing information about the baby’s location?
Soon, one-by-one, the servants were interviewed about their movements and social contacts.
Betty Gow, Lindberghs’ nurse, was first to be cleared.
However, one of the Morrows’ maids, Violet Sharpe, was evasive and during her third interrogation, became distraught.
A series of ransom notes led Lindbergh and Condon to a night-time rendezvous in a cemetery
She then committed suicide with a cyanide preparation available to clean silverware at the time, although the police eventually concluded that she was completely innocent.
To this day, no further evidence has emerged to implicate the servants or explain how the kidnapper knew so much about his target.
It was also hoped that the rare gold certificate bank notes paid as part of the ransom – and identifiable from their serial numbers – would lead detectives to the killer.
Frustratingly, they did turn up from time to time and were spotted by alert bank tellers. But the notes were usually included in daily takings from large stores and the shop assistants remembered little about the customers involved.
Intriguingly most appeared in the downtown New York area and it was tantalizingly possible the kidnapper was still spending them.
Then, in September 1933, another one was spotted. This time it had been used at a gas station and, helpfully, the attendant had written down the car number plate.
The New York State police soon traced the owner and arrested him.
Bruno Hauptmann, the unemployed carpenter, acted suspiciously on arrest. His handwriting was quickly declared to match that on the ransom note and, when his house was searched, the police found a stack of bank notes from the ransom payment.
The search widened from the Lindberghs’ home, and roadblocks were erected throughout the state
When the police let it be known that Hauptmann was from Germany and had a criminal record there, a relieved America accepted that the murderer had been found.
Yet even though Hauptmann was kept in solitary confinement and beaten up, there was no confession.
The trial, starting in late 1934, was the place to be seen. New York society ladies bribed their way into the small courtroom where they jostled for positions near the defendant.
Sightseers gathered and tacky mementos were sold outside the courthouse: alleged locks of hair from the murdered baby, forged autographed photographs of Charles and replicas of the kidnap ladder.
The prosecution’s case was circumstantial since there was nothing directly linking Hauptmann to the killing.
They could show that the crude ransom note was in Hauptmann’s handwriting and that some of the ransom money had been found in his house.
Added to that, detailed forensic work on the wood of the ladder found at the scene traced it to a lumber yard close to Hauptmann’s home and suggested that wood in one part of the ladder came from the floor of Hauptmann’s attic.
Lindbergh, who attended daily carrying a pistol in a holster, gave dignified evidence and testified that the voice he heard from the cemetery directing him how to hand over the money matched Hauptmann’s.
Bruno Hauptmann, an unemployed carpenter, was arrested and charged for the kidnap and murder
Bruno Hauptmann (center) is handcuffed to a state trooper as he is taken from county jail to be executed
Anne, too, gave testimony and managed to keep control when identifying the baby’s sleeping suit to the hushed court. The defense wisely declined to question her.
Hauptmann’s flamboyant attorney, Edward J Reilly, claimed that the money found in Hauptmann’s house had been stored for a friend, a business partner, who had left for Germany and died there. Hauptmann said he was entitled to use it since his friend owed him money.
Reilly cast doubt on the handwriting evidence and reasonably argued that the ladder was not worthy of a skilled carpenter.
But his client’s alibis for that night were unconvincing.
At the conclusion of the six-week trial, the judge gave a balanced summary and the jury retired.
Outside, a restive crowd of 6,000 people waited 11 hours for the verdict.
Some of the reporters devised plans for being first with the result. The Associated Press correspondent even had a special radio and was ready with simple codes for the possible permutations.
But when the bell rang to announce that the jury was returning, he mistakenly – and now notoriously – sent out the ‘guilty and life imprisonment’ code. In fact, Hauptmann had been sentenced to death.
Mrs Lindbergh with three of her children Reeve, Anne and Scott (left to right) in 1950
Hauptman’s steady denials, plus concern about a verdict based entirely on circumstantial evidence, meant that doubts persisted and the execution was postponed by series of appeals in the course of 1935.
But on April 3, 1936, the appeals finally ran out and Hauptman went to the electric chair.
It is striking that he never made a confession despite the fact that doing so – and allowing for a sentence of life imprisonment – might well have saved his life.
Perhaps, nine decades later, it is only the miracle of forensic science that will finally lay the doubts to rest.
Edited and exclusively excerpted from ‘The Enigmatic Aviator: Charles Lindbergh, Revisited ‘ by David Hamilton
