On an isolated wooded road east of St. Albans, Vermont, in the summer of 1874, a young schoolteacher vanished between two farmhouses. Within days, searchers found her battered body hidden beneath a fallen birch tree, her head fractured by heavy blows, her clothing arranged with strange care. The murder of Mariette Ball would haunt the community for years, produce false accusations, and remain unsolved until a confession three years later linked it to a second killing 150 miles away.

Mariette Ball was born in St. Albans on June 15, 1854, one of seven children of George and Emily Ball. Her mother died when Mariette was eight, and two of her brothers later moved to California in search of better opportunities. St.
Albans itself was growing, transformed by the arrival of the Central Vermont Railroad, which established major shops and offices there and linked the village to Boston and Montreal. Mariette attended the local school, where she was remembered as a cheerful but reserved girl with a strong sense of purpose. As a teenager, she had been chased across a bridge by a man who harassed her, but she refused to let fear restrict her freedom. When urged to be more cautious, she replied, “Who should I fear?
I haven’t hurt anyone, and I have nothing anyone would want. ”
At nineteen, she began teaching at District Number Two School, located on a high wooded hill about half a mile east of St. Albans Village. She lived with her father but spent weekends with the family of Foster A.
Page, whose home lay across uneven ground and through a stretch of broken timber. The route was isolated and rarely used. On Friday afternoon, July 24, 1874, Mariette dismissed her pupils and set out along the road toward the Page home. She waved to Mrs.
Collins and her children as she passed their house, carrying a bundle containing a nightdress and some un-ironed clothes. She never arrived. At first, the Pages assumed she had returned home for the evening. But when she had not appeared by Saturday afternoon, Mrs.
Page grew worried and went to ask the Collins family if they had seen her. Mrs. Collins confirmed that Mariette had passed their house after school the previous day. Now alarmed, Mrs.
Page hurried home to her husband, who immediately set out to search. He gathered men along the road and they began combing the wooded area between the Page and Collins homes. The search did not take long to find the first traces of violence. Near a dry brook channel crossed by a narrow railless bridge, they found Mariette’s parasol.
A small clump of bushes nearby showed signs of preparation: a branch had been cut away, another twisted upright to improve concealment. The ground was heavily trodden, and pieces of a makeshift mask lay scattered about. A fence rail behind the bushes had been deliberately cut. Someone had known Mariette walked that way every Friday and had been waiting for her.
The search continued through the night by lantern light. Around four o’clock Sunday morning, a young black man named Frank Harris discovered her body on the eastern side of a large felled birch tree, roughly 250 feet from the road. She had been subjected to a violent attack. The killer had taken some care in arranging her body, laying her down with her skirt carefully placed, her clothing spread over her, and her overskirt wrapped around her head to conceal the injury.
Her bag had been filled with leaves. She had suffered blows to the left side of her head, and her arms were bruised, indicating she had tried to protect herself. A trail of blood led back toward the road through the undergrowth. Investigators later determined that Mariette, who was young, attractive, and physically strong, must have seen the attacker emerge from hiding and tried to run.
She was caught near the bridge, where the gravel in the dry brook channel had been disturbed. Her footprints and those of the man were plainly visible. The mask, made from a piece of carpet fastened with wire and cut with openings for eyes and mouth, was later found near the roadway. Her hair ribbon was recovered alongside a stone spotted with blood.
Drops of blood continued along the trail to a small fallen tree, where a larger pool marked where the attacker had stopped. Her watch was found stopped at 4:20, her broken neck chain beside it. The bundle she had been carrying was never recovered. The post-mortem, conducted by Doctors Fassett and Hall, revealed an opening above the left ear, loose fractures across the entire left side of the skull, lacerations on the head, deep cuts near the eye, and extensive bruising across the body.
The scalp showed signs that she had been pulled or dragged by her hair. Bruises on her left forearm and right inner thigh left no doubt that the perpetrator had taken her virtue. An inquest held by Justice Farnsworth concluded that Mariette Ball had been murdered by a person or persons unknown. The community was thrown into turmoil.
St. Albans was already on edge following the recent killing of a local man named Mr. Elwood, and now the murder of a young schoolteacher caused further outrage. Men spoke of forming a vigilance committee, and villagers grew distrustful of strangers and neighbors alike.
Women and children no longer went out alone. Anyone seen walking without a clear purpose suddenly appeared suspicious. With little to go on, suspicion spread quickly. Frank Harris, who had found the body, was arrested on Sunday, July 26, just two days after the murder.
Rumors claimed a hair from Mariette’s head had been found on his clothing and that he had changed his clothes that evening. But these rumors were baseless. Witnesses testified that he had been raking hay in his fields all morning and had worked at Mr. Page’s from three o’clock until evening.
He was released only when Mr. Page vouched for his impeccable character. The police next arrested a French Canadian named Joseph LePage in Swanton, about ten miles north of St. Albans, after a man named George Lang reported that LePage had scratches on his face and had asked about train departure times.
LePage denied any knowledge of the murder, and with no evidence linking him to the crime, he was released. Investigators also looked into the family of a student named Revoir, whom Mariette had disciplined days before the killing, but nothing came of it. Talk of a gang living in the woods circulated and faded when searches found no trace of one. Attention eventually turned to George Gregory Smith, a 29-year-old attorney and eldest son of the former governor and railway tycoon J.
Gregory Smith. It was claimed that George and Mariette had argued at a dance at the Bakersfield Hotel, and that this had provoked the crime. Resentment toward the wealthy elite fueled the rumor, and many believed the powerful Smith family was bribing and intimidating local officers to cover up the murder. A witness claimed to have seen an elegant horse and carriage leaving the village on the day of the crime.
Mariette’s father also believed Smith was guilty, remembering both the earlier incident when a stranger chased his daughter and the argument at the hotel. He shared his fears with Dr. John Branch, who had offered a $3,000 reward for the killer’s arrest. But Detective Flanigan and local officers found Smith had a solid alibi.
He had been playing billiards with friends at the Weldon House Hotel at the time of the murder, seen by many witnesses. Authorities announced that Smith was not responsible and had been the victim of a baseless smear campaign driven by local railroad rivalries and public gossip. By the end of 1874, the murder of Mariette Ball remained unsolved. Many in St.
Albans had embraced wild rumors and falsely accused innocent residents. As months passed, it seemed the truth might never emerge. Then, on October 4, 1875, more than fourteen months after Mariette’s death, a 17-year-old woman named Josie Langmaid was ambushed and murdered while walking to school in New Hampshire, 150 miles from St. Albans.
The crime sparked intense public outrage, and an angry mob attempted to lynch an innocent suspect. When a former St. Albans resident named W. N.
Abel read about the murder, he recognized terrifying parallels to Mariette’s case. Both young women had been targeted along isolated wooded paths, both had fought fiercely, and both had been struck with heavy objects. Crucially, Abel realized the New Hampshire crime had occurred near Suncook, just four miles from Pembroke, where Joseph LePage had moved shortly after Mariette’s murder. Abel alerted Justice Farnsworth, who contacted the Suncook police.
LePage was arrested. Investigators uncovered his violent history: domestic abuse, arson, and attempted assaults. He lived with his wife and four of their five children, was originally from Quebec, and had limited command of English. He worked cutting timber for firewood sent to the Pembroke Mills.
Pembroke’s French community protested his arrest, claiming he was targeted because of his nationality and his race. A witness said LePage had been cutting wood with him that day, but LePage had already told police he became lost in the woods that morning. He denied any involvement, but after bloodstained clothes were found at his house, he was charged with Josie Langmaid’s murder. The trial opened on January 4, 1876, in Concord, New Hampshire, with LePage sensationally portrayed in the press as “the French monster.
” The prosecution relied on circumstantial evidence, but witnesses placed LePage carrying a club or axe on the morning of the murder. His sister-in-law, Julienne Rousse, testified that five years earlier he had assaulted her while wearing a homemade mask, which had fallen and allowed her to recognize him. This mattered because a mask had also been found after Josie Langmaid’s murder. LePage was found guilty, but his lawyer appealed, arguing the sister-in-law’s evidence was irrelevant.
The Supreme Court agreed and overturned the conviction. At his second trial, the jury again found him guilty. As LePage waited for execution, Catholic priests, including Father Barry, Father Millet, and Father Drouin, spoke with him. He decided to unburden his soul.
Dropping to his knees and weeping, he confessed to Josie Langmaid’s murder. But he did not stop there. He also provided accurate details about the murder of Mariette Ball and confessed that he had committed that crime as well. The admission finally closed a mystery that had remained unsolved for more than three years.
On the morning of March 15, 1878, Joseph LePage was hanged in Concord, the state capital of New Hampshire. His family returned his body to Suncook for burial. He was convicted and executed for the murder of Josie Langmaid.
He was never brought to trial for the murder of Mariette Ball.