The 'Aside' to Pepin Murder

LaCrosse, Wisconsin and the trial, an aside to Mag and Jim.

While the city of LaCrosse awaited the trial of James Carter and Margaret Wheeler with all of its titillating details and rabid excitement, the busy city continued on it’s usual course. LaCrosse was founded in 1841 when a New York native by the name of Nathan Myrick came from New York to Prairie Du Chien, Wisconsin to work in the fur trade. With a great many fur traders already well-established there, Myrick decided to establish a trading post upriver at the then still unsettled site of Prairie La Crosse. In 1841, he built a temporary trading post on Barron Island (now called Pettibone Park), just west of present day La Crosse. The following year, Myrick relocated the post to the mainland prairie and partnered with H. J. B. Miller to run the business. This new location proved an ideal location for a new settlement at the confluence of the Black, LaCrosse and Mississippi rivers below the great bluffs rising behind it. By 1855 LaCrosse had grown to over 2000 residents and the railroads made stations there in 1858 securing it as a destination.

LaCrosse had it’s own fair share of excitement and while awaiting the murder trial there occurred a noteworthy incident. April 12th, 1867, in the middle of the afternoon, another drama unfolded in front of the Westcott House hotel. Fourteen year old James McHugh was whiling away his time on the streets when he noticed a man and woman approaching along the opposite side of the street about 100 feet away. The couple were arguing, the man looked angry and the woman was shaking her head while firmly gripping her parasol. They had stopped in the middle of the street facing each other talking for a few moments and the man turned toward the hotel. The woman turned and headed in the opposite direction for a few steps then turned back toward the man. Pulling a small pistol from her bag, she rapidly walked up the man, took deliberate aim and fired at his head from two feet away. The man fell to the street as she stood over him, smoking pistol in her hand.

James McHugh immediately ran across the street to where the man was lying wounded and cursing. James noticed a small spot of blood on the back of his neck as the man told James that he had been shot and to get him a doctor. James ran off to get help as a small crowd gathered to see what the fuss was about. The woman who fired the gun stepped around the wounded man, entered the lobby of the hotel, calmly took a seat and awaited the arrival of the police. She had done this act and feeling justified, made no attempt to escape. Abigail ‘Abby’ Shepard was taken into custody and charged with the attempted murder of Abraham Lederman.

Abby was booked at the LaCrosse jail and was likely placed in a cell with Mag Wheeler who, until now, had been the sole occupant. For nearly a year, Mag had been confined in jail cells and for the most part served her time alone. The time was drawing near for her trial and she knew for sure that there would be no more delays. The sudden appearance of another woman in the cell with her at this time was more of an irritant than a welcome relief from the solitude.

Mag had a daily routine, established over the past year, and the arrival of Abby Shepard had upset the rituals. Mag’s few possessions were displaced and her world was suddenly disquieted and she resented Abby being there. Mag was hostile toward Abby and resisted sharing space or facilities, she started quarrels over trivial details. Abby was a couple of years older and had more experience in the world so she tried her best to befriend Mag, ignoring the animosity. Abby saw through the facade and knew how much they needed each other, sharing unfortunate circumstances, needing a friendly companion. A few days passed and Mag began to ease up and with a little encouragement from Abby, they became as sisters.

Abby had met Abraham Lederman around four years prior in Winona, Minnesota about 30 miles north of LaCrosse. She had gone with him to Cleveland, Ohio where they had gotten married by a Justice of the Peace in November, 1864. Later, Lederman had stolen and destroyed their marriage certificate and the couple moved back to Winona. Lederman used Abby as his mistress for the next two years until he left for LaCrosse. A month after he had arrived in LaCrosse, he sent word to Abby to come join him, promising to marry her again if she did. Abby believed him and left Winona to be with him in LaCrosse only to have him withdraw his promise to marry her.

Abby had refused to be his mistress again and Lederman, who was using an alias “Haines” began to degrade her. He called her vile names in public and used insulting language on the streets or wherever he could embarrass her. Abby’s money was spent and she had nowhere to turn. With Lederman’s constant, unending abuse and her own destroyed sense of self worth, she had reached bottom. The realization of the hopeless situation she had put herself in enraged her to the breaking point. She struck out the only way she could see from the gutter he had dragged her into. From such a low place in her mind and in her life, she pulled that pistol intending to put an end to his life and her misery. The cruelest twist was that Lederman survived and was free to roam the streets while she was confined to jail and would, most likely, suffer in prison for a long time.

Mag and Abby shared a cell together throughout Mag’s trial which was completed before Abby had her trial date. Days after the conviction of both Mag and Jim and before their sentencing, Abby was called to trial. Knowing the outcome of her cellmate’s trial struck Abby hard and she expected the same court to find her guilty. On June 5th, Abby came before the court for the attempted murder of Abraham Lederman, alias “Haines”. The same judge that heard Mag’s trial sat at the bench and the trial lasted two days. On the evening of June 6th, the jury was given orders and met in chambers. Two hours later, they returned with a verdict of “assault”, the least crime know to the law. Judge Flint ordered Abby to pay a fine of one hundred dollars. A cheering courtroom filled with spectators passed the hat and quickly collected the entire fine. Stunned and speechless, Abbey walked from the courtroom a free woman, she returned to the jail cell to collect her things and she and Mag parted ways forever.

This story speaks for itself, but I admire that in a time when women had few if any rights, the abuse this woman suffered was recognized by the men of the jury.