Ann Marie Ackermann and I became friends after the publication of my first book, A Lady
in the Smoke, which was based on the true- crime railway frauds in the 1870s in England. Her book Death of an Assassin: The True Story of the German Murderer Who Died Defending Robert E. Lee is more true crime and won an Independent Publisher Award (2018).
If you or someone you know likes true crime history that is very well-researched but still accessible—books such as Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI by David Grann or Eric Larson’s Devil in the White City—check out this one.
Ann Marie graciously agreed to reminisce about where her research and writing process began. Here is her post:
Police, Buckshot, and a Dip in the Archives
I swear to God, I never expected to call the police the day I visited the state archives. Of course that could have happened if I’d discovered a theft there. Thieves have been known to pilfer stamps and rare documents. But in my case, I was elbow-deep in archival dust and found notes to the file in an 1835 murder investigation that made me pick up the phone. What would you do if you found evidence that rewrote police history?
What originally sent me packing for the archives was an entry in the diary of a 19th-century German forester, in which he described the 1835 assassination of a mayor in my German town and how a letter from Washington, DC solved the case in 1872. That shocked me. I used to work as a prosecutor in America and I knew that a 37-year time span for solving a cold case was extraordinary. Back in the 1800s, before the advent of DNA, the case had probably smashed criminal records. That case was a story that hadn’t been told and I hoped my archival research could form the basis of a journal article.
But then I found the notes in the police file. They shocked me even more.
A magistrate named Eduard Hammer had written this in November 1835:
[The] buckshot found in the corpse [have] dented sides and scratches [that the consulting gunsmith thinks] came from the lead rubbing against the rifling in the barrel.
The gunsmith … concluded that the scratches visible on the buckshot in the body were probably indentations from the barrel of a rifle with so-called fine grooving.
Fine grooves, called microgrooves today, made for a super clue. Most rifles have 6-8 grooving, but a rifle with microgrooves have 15-20 or even more thinly spaced, spiral-formed grooves. In 1835, they were rare. So the investigator gathered all the firearms in town – 48 in all – and inspected the barrels. Solving the case might have been as simple as identifying which had rifling with fine grooving. It almost worked. One rifle out of the 48 had the same kind of grooving as the murder weapon. But had someone really used it to shoot the mayor?
Then I read one doozy of a note in the file, the one that made me pick up the phone and call the police:
At this point, we document that several shots were fired from the suspect weapon with buckshot and birdshot; the buckshot and birdshot, fired into a sack with sawdust 2 feet long and 1 ½ feet thick, were collected, but the same impressions in the scratches that were on the shot from the body could not be detected. The gunsmith provided an expert opinion that one could not conclude that the buckshot found in the body came from the suspect weapon. The shot fired from the suspect weapon did not have such sharp impressions as those found on the shot from the body. 
Holy sack of straw! (All right, all right, that’s what Germans say when they’re surprised.) That note looked, sounded, and smelled like forensic ballistics. The only problem was that forensic ballistics supposedly hadn’t been invented yet. Not for another half century.
It has been a truth universally acknowledged that Alexandre Lacassagne, a French pathologist, invented forensic ballistics in 1888, when he dissected a bullet out of a body on autopsy and discovered that the number of scratches or “striations” on the bullet (seven) corresponded to the number of lands and grooves in the barrel of the suspect’s pistol (also seven).
But here I was, reading Hammer’s note to the file that he had done essentially the same thing to eliminate a suspect weapon. And that was 53 years before Lacassagne!
My original plan to publish an article in a history journal dissolved with two archival discoveries. Both of them screamed, “Book! Book! This is worthy of a book!” One was that Robert E. Lee, during his first battle at the Siege of Veracruz in the Mexican-American War, wrote a letter about the murderer and praised him as a hero. But Lee couldn’t have known his hero was a long-sought criminal from Europe.
The other was this one, Hammer’s note. Hammer’s description of his investigative technique promised to move the birthplace of forensic ballistics from France to Germany. On the basis of his ballistic analysis, Hammer struck the rifle’s owner from his suspect list. He might have been the first documented person in history to use the technique, and the first to eliminate a suspect weapon based on ballistic testing.
So I called the state police laboratory in Stuttgart and talked to Volker Schäfer, the weapons expert there. He was surprised to hear about Hammer because no known investigator had used forensic ballistics before Lacassagne.
This is where my historical research really got fun. Schäfer invited me to the state crime lab. If we wanted to prove Hammer was right, he said, we needed to recreate the murder in the laboratory. Schäfer found a 19th-century pistol with microgooving. He loaded it with several loads of buckshot and birdshot — the same mixture used to shoot the mayor — and fired into a water tank. With a long-handled net, he scooped the shot out from the other end of the tank and popped it under his microscope. There, glaring at me through the lens, were the scratches Hammer wrote about. They would have sufficed to make Hammer draw his conclusions, Schäfer said.
My discoveries in the case led to a book contract with Kent State University Press and a book award in 2018. When the Silberburg publishing house in Germany published the German translation of my book this year, Ralf Michelfelder, the chief of the Baden-Württemberg state police, wrote the foreword. Hammer prefigured Lacassagne, he wrote. It was Hammer, not Lacassagne, who invented forensic ballistics.
So this case really did rewrite criminal history. Now I have the police, some buckshot, and archival material to back up my claim. A museum in Bönnigheim, Germany hosting an exhibition on the birth of forensic ballistics this year, but the opening date has been indefinitely postponed due to the coronavirus pandemic. If you happen to visit southern Germany in 2020 or 2021, contact me via my website, and I can give you more definite information. I can also offer you a museum tour in English.
Ann Marie Ackermann is a former prosecutor from Washington State now living in Germany, where she wrote the award-winning historical true crime Death of an Assassin: The True Story of the German Murderer Who Died Defending Robert E. Lee (Kent State University Press, 2017). She blogs about historical true crime as well.
In 1856, the first Married Women’s Property petition and bill was debated in the House of Commons and defeated. The bill was one of several that would be proposed and killed before it finally succeeded in 1870. At issue was the fact that under the existing legal doctrine of coverture, a married woman could not own property; and if, as a feme sole (a single woman) she did own property, upon her marriage it became the property of her husband, unless her family had made a special provision or trust that secured her fortune to herself (and her heirs). Also, after 1870, working class women who earned a wage could actually keep it. 
Until 1832, the only people allowed to vote in England were the wealthy landowners. After the riots of 1831, including some dangerous fires in Bristol that killed 12, the government became willing to consider a reform in order to avoid an outright revolt—or a revolution such as the one in France in 1830, when King Charles X was overthrown and hereditary right was replaced by popular sovereignty. The First Reform Bill of 1832 eliminated some of the rotten boroughs, where only a few voters still sent 2 MPs to parliament. It also extended the franchise to include all men who owned property worth at least £10—approximately one million of the seven million men. Encouraged by the Union victory in the American Civil War (1865), some groups of British men demanded more democracy and public influence. In 1867, the Second Reform Bill was passed, which extended the vote to 2/5 of the male population, to those men who earned £7 annually from rents or who had £50 in savings. In effect, this meant that urban working class men could vote; but the “feckless and criminal” poor was still left out in the cold. However, the fact that the vote was being extended to members of the middle classes provided hope to some suffragists that it might one day be extended to women. In 1866, Barbara Bodichon spoke on women’s rights in Manchester, and Lydia Becker, later the editor of the Wall Street Journal heard her and was profoundly affected. That same year, the Women’s Suffrage Petition was carried to Parliament and defeated … and England did not grant women the vote until 1927, eight years after the vote was given to women in America. 
Perhaps the largest global political change however, occurred in 1871, when the balance of power tipped in Europe as a result of the Franco-Prussian War that began July 1870 and ended only a few months later. Before the war, Otto von Bismarck longed to unite all the German states and regions into one entity. In 1870, working as the chancellor, von Bismarck misrepresented the contents of a telegram in order to antagonize France and stir up resentment in Berlin. As a result, France declared war. The southern states, including Bavaria, were largely unarmed, and in the new situation, set aside their wariness of the northern Prussian states and asked for their protection. Von Bismarck had been stockpiling weapons and troops at the French border, and the moment war was declared, they rolled toward Paris, laying siege on the city and taking control within a matter of months. When France surrendered, the May 1871 Treaty of Frankfurt gave Germany the Alsace region and part of Lorraine, and awarded Germany millions of francs worth of reparations and the right to occupy France until they were paid. Germany’s consolidation, France’s determination to reclaim the Alsace-Lorraine region, and British fears that Germany would use their occupation of France as a pretext for further expansion altered the political landscape of Europe forever and became some of the underlying causes of WWI.