In late 1893, Margaret A. Robinson (known as Maggie) lived with her younger sister Alda at 162 East North Street in New Castle. Maggie, then about 49, worked as a dressmaker, while 34-year-old Alda was employed as a saleswoman in a local store.

The Robinson family originally came from the tiny farming community of Little Beaver, Pennsylvania, about 14 miles south of New Castle. Like many others, the daughters had moved to the city in search of better opportunities.

In the summer of 1891, their brother Samuel, who was living with them at the time, introduced his friend Professor Robert Charles Hartshorne to his sisters. Soon, Hartshorne began visiting on his own. He played euchre with the family and often lingered after the others had gone to bed, spending time with Alda.

It quickly became obvious to Maggie that Hartshorne was interested in her sister. Over time, he rose in prominence, being elected principal of New Castle High School – a prestigious position. Conveniently, the school stood just across the street from the Robinson home, and Hartshorne’s visits became frequent. He often escorted Alda home from the shops, a gesture that in the 1890s raised more than a few eyebrows.

This relationship continued into the final hours of the year. On December 31, 1893, New Year’s Eve, the 29-year-old professor arrived at the Robinson home around 8 p.m. As usual, Maggie left the pair alone. She later recalled that Alda did not come to bed until about 3 a.m., suggesting the sisters shared a bedroom.

New Year’s Day: Taken Unwell 

The next morning, January 1, 1894, Maggie was already awake when she saw Hartshorne enter the house at 9 a.m. She overheard him speaking with Alda and a visiting guest, Mrs. Boyd, in the front room before he and Alda held a private conversation.

By 3 p.m. he had returned again, pulling Alda into the dining room for another exchange before leaving once more. Then, at 8 p.m., Hartshorn appeared yet again, asking Maggie if Mrs. Boyd was still present. When she answered yes, he expressed concern and regret. Alda, he explained, had complained of a headache and was “going to be sick.”

Hartshorne told Maggie to put her sister to bed. When Maggie found Alda sitting in a chair, Alda moaned, “Oh, this is horrible!” Maggie helped her upstairs while Hartshorne stretched out on a lounge to rest.

As the night progressed, Alda’s condition worsened. Hartshorne handed Maggie a bottle of medicine and told her to give some to Alda. She did, but by 10 p.m. Maggie was alarmed enough to insist that Hartshorne fetch a doctor.

The newspapers did not specify Alda’s exact symptoms beyond headache and faintness, but Maggie knew the truth: Alda was eight months pregnant.

Determined to protect her sister’s reputation, Maggie offered explanations in recent days and weeks to anyone who asked. When a family friend had noticed Alda’s loosened waist buttons, Maggie dismissed it as a “family condition” rather than risk gossip about unwed motherhood.

But that night, Alda’s suffering could no longer be concealed.

Dr. Campbell Arrives

Hartshorne returned with Dr. Howard E. Campbell, whose office was nearby. Together they went upstairs to examine Alda. After only a brief check, Campbell sent Hartshorne to fetch a bottle of chloroform.

When Hartshorne returned, the doctor turned to Maggie. “Does your sister have heart trouble?” he asked. Maggie said yes. It was a common concern, as many doctors of the period believed chloroform could trigger heart failure.

But Campbell pressed on. He poured chloroform onto a handkerchief and held it over Alda’s face. She screamed: “This is a wicked sin and a double crime!”

“Brace up,” Hartshorne snapped. “You do not brace up worth a cent.”

With Alda unconscious, Dr. Campbell performed an abortion while Hartshorne assisted. Maggie, horrified, witnessed it all. When the procedure ended, Campbell revealed the infant. Maggie later swore she saw the baby move its arms and legs, though it made no sound.

Campbell then ordered her downstairs. A short while later, Hartshorne followed, carrying the child partially wrapped in newspaper. He told Maggie that Campbell wanted her back upstairs. As she began to climb the stairs, she heard the rattle of the stove door behind her. It was from the gas-lit cooking stove in the kitchen. When Hartshorne returned, the child was gone.

A Grim Discovery

The next morning, Maggie went to check the stove. What she found was horrific: among the ashes lay tiny bones and a skull. With a poker and shovel, she retrieved the remains and placed them in a box.

For days afterward, things unfolded in a disturbing pattern. Both Hartshorne and Dr. Campbell arrived at the house under the cover of night, hurried upstairs to Alda’s room, and left only minutes later. This continued until January 10, when Alda’s condition suddenly worsened.

No longer trusting Dr. Campbell, Maggie sent for another physician, Dr. Montgomery Linville. He examined Alda and departed, but soon after, Hartshorne arrived. Sensing something was amiss, he demanded to know who had been there. When Maggie told him she had summoned Dr. Linville, Hartshorne grew anxious.

“Why didn’t you call Dr. Campbell?” he asked.

As if on cue, Campbell suddenly appeared, demanding to see what medicine Dr. Linville had prescribed. After examining the bottle, he promised to return the next morning.

Hartshorne, meanwhile, grew more agitated. Maggie later testified that he threatened them, saying, “I will kill you both. This whole thing will be discovered.” Terrified, the sisters did not know what to do.

A Night of Terror

Hartshorne eventually calmed himself, lying on the lounge downstairs. But later he returned to Alda’s room, turned down the lamp, and sat on the edge of her bed. Taking her arm, he appeared to prepare an injection.

According to Maggie’s later testimony, Alda suddenly sat upright and cried: “You are trying to chloroform me!”

“That’s nonsense,” Hartshorne replied. “Lay down and be quiet.”

She obeyed, but when he took her arm again she burst into tears and repeated the accusation. Hartshorne retreated downstairs, leaving the sisters together.

They dozed fitfully until Maggie was jolted awake by Alda’s screams. The next morning she told a reporter:

“About four a.m. I awakened with a peculiar sensation, as though I were smothering. I could get my breath only in gasps. When I forced myself to my feet, I saw Professor Hartshorne sitting by the bed, sprinkling some kind of drug over the bedclothes and throwing it around the room. From the odor, I thought it was chloroform. The terrible thought flashed through my mind that he was trying to chloroform us both.”

Maggie said she staggered to the window, threw it open, and cried out: “Help! Help! He will murder us!”

Hartshorne hushed her, but she screamed again. Finally, he muttered, “Goodbye, I am going,” and fled the house.

Discovery and Arrest

Maggie’s cries awakened neighbors, including George McKee, who rushed in and found Alda lying lifeless on the bed. Maggie, shaking with fear, begged him to save her.

“Who is trying to murder you?” McKee asked.

“Professor R. C. Hartshorne of the New Castle High School,” she answered. “He was here a moment ago and tried to chloroform us. He fled when I screamed so loudly.”

The smell of chloroform still filled the room. Detective S. B. Marshall soon arrived, and Maggie handed over the box containing the bones she had saved.

Police quickly began a search. Strangely, one officer encountered Dr. Campbell lurking in an alley near the Robinson home, but unaware of his role in the odious affair, let him go. Hartshorne, however, was arrested that morning near his school. The officer who apprehended him described him as dirty and disheveled. The professor explained he had been up all night.

Trial and Sentence

Hartshorne was swiftly charged with multiple crimes: fornication, bastardy, abortion, and murder. A grand jury indicted him on all counts. Unsurprisingly, he lost his job. He made bail but was confined to Lawrence County Jail while awaiting trial.

When four prisoners staged a daring escape on March 6, they even invited Hartshorne to join them. He declined, saying he preferred to stay and face his accusers.

His trial began on March 21, with Maggie Robinson as the star witness – Alda deemed too sick to testify. Maggie’s account, much of which you’ve already heard, was delivered calmly and firmly.

The defense sought to undermine her credibility, insinuating that she had interfered in her sister’s affairs and tried to steer Alda toward Hartshorne. Maggie denied each accusation. Hartshorne, pale and despondent, sat silently through the proceedings. On the third day of the trial he tugged at his attorney’s sleeve and whispered in despair: ‘It’s no use. No use trying any longer. I may as well give up.’”

This prompted a conference between the prosecution and the defense, and a change in plea. Hartshorne pleaded guilty to “criminal malpractice.” District Attorney Samuel Emery admitted there wasn’t enough evidence to convict on murder and asked the jury to acquit on that charge. The court granted the request, and after the adjournment, Hartshorne wept as he was congratulated by a large number of spectators in the courtroom, including family, friends and pupils. 

On March 26, Judge Aaron Hazen sentenced Hartshorne to two years in prison and a $50 fine. With good behavior, he would be released after one year and nine months. Before sentencing, Hartshorne addressed the court, expressing regret, pity for his victim, and a promise to lead a better life.

Epilogue

But Alda Robinson would never get that chance. Soon after her ordeal, she was committed to the Dixmont Hospital for the Insane, located northwest of Pittsburgh. On January 28, 1895, just over a year later, she died at age 35. Newspapers reported that during her confinement, she spoke only one word: “Hartshorne.”

As for Dr. Campbell, he fled town after escaping arrest and was never seen in New Castle again. When police went to his office, they found the door locked and a card that said “out of the city, back tomorrow”, pinned to the door. His name vanished from Pennsylvania newspapers, and no record of a trial or sentence has ever surfaced.

And poor Maggie Robinson, who had witnessed her sister’s suffering at the hands of a scoundrel, also faded from the New Castle city directory, disappearing into obscurity.

Note: I first shared this story in audio format for my Most Notorious Podcast Patreon members and Apple Plus subscribers back in January of 2024. One of my patrons, Jeanette, was especially curious about what became of the elusive Dr. Howard Campbell. She dug around and eventually uncovered the missing piece of his story. After fleeing Pennsylvania, Campbell resurfaced in Anita, Iowa, where he set up a medical practice. His brother, also a physician, practiced in a nearby town. Campbell remained there for about twenty years before marrying a registered nurse named Anna Laura Smith. At the time, he was 53 and she was 30. They went on to have two children together. Campbell lived out the rest of his days in Iowa, dying in 1935 at the age of 69.  

Newspapers

• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), January 11, 1894, p. 1.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), January 25, 1894, p. 1.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), January 26, 1894, p. 4.
• The Pittsburgh Post (Pittsburgh, PA), January 30, 1894, p. 8.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), February 1, 1894, p. 4.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), February 2, 1894, p. 1.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), March 7, 1894, p. 1.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), March 9, 1894, p. 1.
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), March 21, 1894, p. 1.
• Altoona Tribune (Altoona, PA), March 24, 1894, p. 1.
• The Evening Herald (Shenandoah, PA), March 24, 1894, p. 2
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), March 24, 1894, p. 1
• The New Castle News (New Castle, PA), March 28, 1894, p. 5.
• The Brooklyn Citizen (Brooklyn, NY), September 21, 1893, p. 1.
• The Des Moines Register (Des Moines, IA), April 16, 1916, p. 53.

Census & Directories

• U.S. Census Bureau. 1880 United States Federal Census, Little Beaver, Pennsylvania.
• U.S. Census Bureau. U.S. Federal Census, 1895, 1900, 1910, 1920, 1925, and 1930.
• U.S. City Directories. New Castle, Pennsylvania, p. 210. 

Vital Records

• Iowa Department of Public Health. Death Certificate #F15-87, Howard E. Campbell, April 23, 1935.

Books & Compendiums

• Compendium of History and Biography of Cass County, Iowa. Chicago: Henry Taylor & Company, 1895, pp. 289–290.

Genealogical Sources

• Robinson, Alda. Find a Grave. Birth and death dates from grave marker.