Salacious murder cases, especially unsolved ones, are hard to forget and even harder to walk away from. They intrigue and thrill us, but most notably, they continue to trouble us for answers.

On the evening of September 14, 1922, the Episcopal Priest Reverend Edward Hall, age 42, and his pretty choir singer, Mrs. Eleanor Mills, age 34, were murdered as they met at a known lovers' tryst spot and under some crabapple trees. The site of the murder was an abandoned farm, and the bodies were discovered a day and a half later.

The slayings were gruesome, particularly so to Eleanor, who suffered three gunshots to the head, one between the eyes. The killer had taken a knife and nearly severed her head off. Later, an autopsy discovered that she had incurred one additional indignity, finding that someone had cut her tongue out. Reverend Hall had been shot once in the head. The brutal torture of Eleanor meant something more.

Initially, the spouses of the dead denied that the two were having an affair. Jim Mills, a school janitor, stated to the newspapers. "My wife was not having an affair with the Rector. I believe it was a woman's deed. It was jealousy, and I think her throat was cut in spite because of her beautiful voice."

Mills might have been on to something, and an article in the evening paper supported his notion, stating: "reports three prominent church ladies are being investigated" and that there may have been a "jealous parish feud."

The church vestry oddly expressed sympathy to the Rector's wife but not for the loss of their long-time choir member, Eleanor Mills. Officers of the church signed a resolution of faith and integrity for their late Rector but not a word about Eleanor. Most townspeople, however, felt differently and quickly told the newspapers that the “good priest” and his girlfriend had been having an affair for at least four years.

To dispel any disbelief that they were having an affair, the killer or killers sprinkled torn love letters over their bodies. Excerpts from the letters appeared in the Trenton and New York papers and tabloids. Eleanor wrote to Edward:

"Sweetheart my true heart I have the greatest part of all true blessings a noble mans deep, true eternal love."

Edward writes to Eleanor:

"Dearest, I have so longed to talk with you, holding you in my arms. I want to hold you close-commune with you -hold you tight with my arm and stroke your dear firm face with my right – and look deep into those wonder eyes – hazel eyes."

Writers of fiction could not have created a more deliciously sensational story.

The investigation ran into trouble from the start. Within an hour of the discovery, hundreds of town people trampled the crime scene, destroying the physical evidence, and began digging the soil around the bodies to sell as souvenirs; others were cutting branches off the crabapple trees to sell.

Someone appeared to have displayed the bodies side by side and on their backs. Somebody had placed the Rector's business card near his feet, put her hand on his leg, and posed them in an embraced position. The Rector's Panama hat covered his face.

Additionally, pages in several church hymnals were missing. The missing hymns were known as the favorites of the Rector and his pretty choir singer, appropriately entitled "Love."

Perhaps the Rector's hat covered his face because the killer had regrets for his murder but none for the horrors inflicted on Eleanor. Her wounds were open for the world to see.

The local police looked hard at the spouses of the deceased. Jim Mills stated that Reverend Mills was a frequent guest in his home and, as previously stated, claimed ignorance of the affair, saying that Reverend Hall was "too good a friend of mine." Locals, however, remember Eleanor showing an open contempt for her older husband. Mills, 48, later admitted that he did know about the affair but elected to be quiet about it. Mills never surfaced as a solid suspect.

The Rector's wealthy wife became the chase of the media and court. She and her brothers were worth millions, and there were rumors that they were related to the family that owned the iconic Johnson and Johnson company. Frances and her family were well-regarded in the community.

The embarrassment and social trauma of the Rector cheating on his wife with a young and pretty woman angered many in town. Soon, fingers began pointing toward Frances Hall. Frances and her brothers, William and Henry Stevens, were considered the prime suspects, but the evidence was thin, at best.

Older than her husband, Frances, 48, played various supportive roles in the church, including as the head of the Sunday school. One of her students was Eleanor's daughter. Charlotte Mills, age 15, testified that she had loved Mrs. Hall and felt very close to her, but that had oddly changed in the weeks leading up to her mother's death. Mrs. Hall stopped speaking to her and, after the murders were discovered, refused to see her. "Mrs. Hall acted very cold to me." Charlotte's believable observation raised the question of Mrs. Hall's involvement in the murders.

Several individuals claimed that the Rector was planning on running off with Eleanor. Reverend Paul Hamforszky, who had pastored a Hungarian Reformed Church in town, had said that Hall had confided that he intended to leave town with Mrs. Mills and that a relative of his wife had threatened to kill him. This suggested one of Frances’s brothers was involved.

Mrs. Hall's housemaid also told her new husband that the Rector was leaving his wife for Eleanor. According to the story presented to the police by the husband of the maid, on the night of the murders, she had agreed to go with Mrs. Hall and her brothers to the location of the murder. She was paid $5,000 for her silence. She later denied the entire tale, but the strange story of the double murders continued to spin, and the tabloids were running articles weekly.

The critical witness and only eyewitness, Jane Gibson, owned the property that adjoined the site of the murder. Many in a town called her "pig lady" because she owned a pig farm, but they also referred to her "as crazy" and a "liar." Gibson's daughter said she was known to stretch the truth. Her story changed with the wind of who was asking the questions.

According to Gibson, it was night, and her dogs were barking loudly. She thought she saw a man and decided to ride her mule toward the location when she realized four people were arguing under the crabapple trees. She heard gunshots, and one of the figures fell to the ground, presumably dead. She testified that a woman screamed "Don't!" three times. She testified that she had heard a woman shout "Henry."

With that, Jane identified Henry Carpender as the actual murderer. He was, however, cleared quickly because of his alibi. He was eating dinner with his family and friends. Henry was the Hall's first cousin and lived just two doors from the Rector and his wife.

Later, Jane amended her story, noting that she had also seen a touring car like the one the Halls owned. It was parked near the scene of the murders. She claimed she heard the woman in the long gray coat ask, "How do you explain these notes?" At that point, there was a gunshot, and a "man fell to the ground." Mrs. Mills (she was able to identify her) began running away, and "they caught her and dragged her back, shooting her three times." Jane Gibson then remembers one more item; she stated that she realized later in the evening that she had lost one of her moccasins and returned to the scene at 1 a.m., where she saw a woman kneeling next to the deceased man crying. Gibson described her as a "big lady" with "white hair."

The news media, especially the infant tabloid press, convinced readers that fiction and fantasy should be accepted as truth. In 1924, the New York Daily Mirror managers estimated that their content was 90% entertainment and 10% news. Still, they and their competitors continued to run articles about the Hall Hills Murders, spinning unproven tales that many readers accepted as fact.

A grand jury 1922 dismissed charges against Mrs. Hall and her brothers because of a lack of credible evidence, but prosecutors tried again in 1926. The evidence had not changed, but bowing to public pressure, the prosecutors arrested Frances and her brothers, William and Henry Stevens, for the double murders. The tabloid news had already decided they had done the awful deed - based on jealousy, hatred, passion, and revenge.

By 1926, Jane Gibson was so ill that she asked to be dismissed from the trial, but the prosecutor had based his case on her testimony. To the surprise of the jury, orderlies carried Gibson into the courtroom in her hospital bed.

The prosecutor, Mr. Spencer, trying to play on the jury's sympathies and hoping for them to believe Gibson's story, said, "It takes courage to come forward when the voices of the ruling class are against you." Spencer suggested that the powerful would do anything to stop a poor and honest person like Jane Gibson.

Despite Spencer's emotional argument, the defense had little trouble discrediting Gibson. She testified that the Rector was shot while standing, having said, "I saw him fall to the ground." The medical office, however, performed an autopsy on the bodies, and the pathologist determined that Hall was shot while lying on his back.

Gibson also testified that she had described seeing Frances Hall kneeling at her dead husband's body as "a big lady" and she had "white hair." The defense asked Mrs. Hall to stand during his cross-examination of Jane Gibson. Hall was not a big lady and had grey hair. During her testimony, Gibson became increasingly agitated when questioned by the defense attorney, sometimes screaming, "I am telling the truth!" In the end, the jury did not agree and voted to acquit all three.

A century later, we can only speculate on the truth. One of the haunting pieces of this mystery was the unnecessary brutality to Eleanor, especially the removal of her tongue. As indicated in the early investigation, was this an act of revenge, possibly by another choir member? As stated in the local papers, "reports three prominent church ladies are being investigated" and that there may have been a "jealous parish feud."

Was the church in some way involved in a cover-up? Why would the church vestry vote for a resolution honoring their late priest when they knew he had cheated on his wife; and, more, why did they not say some kind words about their long-time parishioner and choir member, Eleanor Mills?

Was Jim Mills correct in his quote," I believe it was a woman's deed. It was jealousy, and I think her throat was cut in spite because of her beautiful voice." Mills mentions the throat and not the tongue. The medical examiner discovered the removal of the tongue in 1926 when both bodies were disinterred and an autopsy performed. Was Mills genuinely not aware? If so, he was not involved in the killings. Or did he say that to throw the police off and distance himself away from the horrible crime?

Although Frances Hall and her brothers were acquitted, it is hard to dismiss the other stories totally. Was Reverend Paul Hamforszky lying? Did the housemaid’s husband make up the story about his wife accompanying Frances and her brothers to the murder site? And finally, should we disbelieve all of Jane Gibson’s story? And finally, if the Rector was leaving his wife for Eleanor, was Frances so worried about her status in society that she took action to stop them?

summary

A bungled investigation, the key witness’s ever-changing stories, and prominent people’s behind-the-scenes power moves may have ended any chance of a conviction. Add into the equation that the sad ending of two lives turned into a complete circus of media spins that leaned more toward entertainment, short on facts, and heavy on influencing public opinion. Finding the truth in the case of the Hall-Mills murders proved to be impossible, and the consequences were that the killers never faced justice.