Policeman’s murder shocked Bangor

DIED AT THOMASTON – Career of W.H. Albert Ends at State Prison This headline in the Bangor Daily Commercial on Nov. 28, 1908, a century ago this week, marked the conclusion of one of the most heinous crimes in Bangor history. William H. Albert had murdered Patrolman Patrick Henry Jordan, a family man with six children, just five years earlier. Jordan, 35 at the time of his death, had been on the beat for less than a week when Albert shot him in the face during a chase. Now the murderer, who had appeared healthy and strong at the time of the crime, was dead as well.

William and Hannah Albert were divorced. His ex-wife was terrified of him. The burly blacksmith, always identified as a Negro or colored in newspaper stories, had recently served 90 days in jail for assaulting an elderly man. He was also “afflicted with the detective mania,” said the Bangor Daily News. He had obtained a badge and credentials from an organization called the American Detective Agency. He claimed to have had in his possession five revolvers, according to testimony at the coroner’s inquest on Jordan’s death.

On Saturday, March 7, 1903, after a night of drinking, Albert decided to pay Hannah a visit. She lived at 1 St. Michael’s Court (Second Street Avenue), a narrow lane off Second Street near Union. When she heard her husband outside her house late that night as she lay in bed, she

blew out the lamp, hoping he would go away. When he started pounding on the door, she jumped from a second-story window in her nightgown. She ran to a home on Second Street, begging the resident to call the police on his telephone. It was about 11 p.m. The wheels of justice started to turn.

Patrolman Jordan walked briskly to the scene from Franklin Street where he was on duty. Patrolman Thomas O’Donohue came up in the paddy wagon. While Jordan guarded the front door on St. Michael’s Court, O’Donohue searched the house. When he entered Hannah Albert’s bedroom, her ex-husband jumped out the same window from which she had escaped into the vacant lot below.

A maze of alleys and streets converged in the area. Neither police officer had any idea which way Albert might have gone – whether to Sanford, Union, Second or Cedar streets. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, O’Donohue returned to the stable with the wagon. He assumed Jordan might have caught the culprit and gone back to the police station.

The exact route of Jordan’s heroic chase after Albert remains unknown. One witness encountered Jordan coming from Sanford Street onto Cedar Street in pursuit of someone who had just run through his yard between 11 and 11:30 p.m. After that sighting, the BDN surmised, “It is probable the two men went through Plum Street [off Cedar] to Parker and up Parker to the wool factory at the end of Fourth Street for at this point a man and woman were standing who saw the negro pass them…. Then he went into Hellier’s Brickyard [at Fourth and Parker]…. The patrolman was hot on the trail though, and a young man who was at the head of Carroll Street saw the negro dart past him running for dear life from the brick yard with Jordan a few feet behind him.”

Meanwhile, Raynsford Talbot had been helping his father, Charles, move scenery from the Bangor Opera House. He started for their home on Carroll Street, leaving his father at his stable on Fourth. When he turned into Carroll Street he was startled to see what appeared to be a body lying across the sidewalk near the intersection with Third. He went back to get his father, who notified police.

“It’s another man. It isn’t Henry,” said one of the first policemen on the scene. But Patrolman O’Donohue went closer and lifted up one of the arms. “My God,” he cried. “There’s the star. It’s the boy.”

A shot had been heard by neighbors, but no one had seen anything. Within 40 minutes of the time Raynsford Talbot found Jordan’s body, Police Chief John Bowen and a squad of eight policemen were getting ready to close in on the fugitive.

At about 11:30 p.m., Albert had begun pounding and kicking on the door and window of the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jesse Huddlan at 106 Walter St., not far from the scene of the crime. He was flourishing a gun and seemed paralyzed with fear one moment and boastful the next. “I’ve shot a policeman,” he said. “They are after me and I want you to hide me. I killed him.”

The Huddlans hadn’t seen Albert for two years. They told him to lie on the floor in the hopes he would go to sleep. He pleaded with them not to leave him alone. Mrs. Huddlan was too frightened to sleep. Taking her baby, she slipped out a window and went to Fire Station 2, where firemen called the police.

As the men were getting ready to surround the Huddlan house, Chief Bowen made a short speech as reported in the BDN: “Now boys, there is a man in there who has probably done murder once tonight, and I don’t want you to take any chances. Draw your guns, and if he attempts to shoot, trim him.”

The house was in darkness. Thanks to Mrs. Huddlan, the police knew Albert was probably on the floor near the front door. Patrolman Harry Baker crawled up the front steps and pushed open the door without a sound. Patrolmen Fred Perkins and John Finnigan were close behind. Perkins showed a light. There was Albert a few feet away, lying on his side motionlessly, a gun in his right hand. Baker grabbed his arm, wrestling the weapon from him, while Perkins pinned down his head, whisking out his handcuffs. Together the two men applied the manacles.

A crowd waited at the station when the police arrived with Albert at 12:50 a.m. He was rushed into the cell room where, Capt. John Mackie supervised a search. “Mackie,” the murderer cried. “Mackie, you know me – say, in God’s name, what is this? For God’s sakes boys, what am I up for?”

These were violent times for Bangor cops. Patrolman Thomas Davis and his family were lucky to escape death a few weeks later when someone tried to blow up their house on Johnson Street while they were sleeping. Other police officers were assaulted by thugs as they tried to quell drunken mobs in this era before police cars and two-way radios. But the death of Officer Jordan remained the worst assault on the Bangor Police Department for years to come.

Wayne E. Reilly may be reached at wer@bangordailynews.net Thanks to Dick Shaw for contributing information for this column.