June 10, 1912. It was a Monday. Most of the town of Villisca, Iowa, was still asleep when the neighbor, Mary Peckham, noticed something was off. The Moore house was too quiet. No one was out doing chores. The curtains were drawn tight. It felt heavy. When Ross Moore, Josiah’s brother, finally opened the door with a spare key, he walked into a literal nightmare. Eight people—six children and two adults—had been bludgeoned to death in their beds. It’s been over a century, and we are still arguing about the Villisca axe murders suspects because the crime scene was a chaotic mess from the jump.
Basically, the killer used Josiah Moore’s own axe. He covered the mirrors with cloths. He left a plate of uneaten food on the table. And then, he just vanished into the Iowa night.
The Preacher Who Knew Too Much
If you’re looking for the weirdest guy in this whole saga, it’s Reverend George Kelly. He was a traveling Presbyterian minister, and honestly, he was a total creep. Kelly had been in town for a Children's Day service at the Presbyterian church, which the Moores attended. He left town early on the morning the bodies were discovered. On the train, he supposedly told fellow passengers that there were eight people murdered in Villisca before the bodies had even been found. How did he know?
He had a history of mental instability. He’d been caught peeping into windows before. He even sent lewd materials through the mail, which got him in trouble with the law. Kelly actually confessed to the murders in 1917, claiming God told him to "slay utterly." But here’s the thing: he later recanted, saying the cops basically bullied the confession out of him.
The physical evidence against Kelly was thin. He was a small, frail man. People wondered if he actually had the strength to swing an axe with enough force to kill eight people so quickly and quietly. He went through two trials. The first ended in a hung jury, and the second ended in an acquittal. Most historians today think he was just a mentally ill man who got caught in the crosshairs of a desperate investigation, though some still swear his obsession with the case was a "guilty mind" leaking out.
Frank Jones and the Blood Feud
In a small town, everything is personal. Josiah Moore hadn't always been an independent businessman; he used to work for Frank Jones, a powerful local politician and businessman. They had a massive falling out when Josiah left to start his own implement business, taking a lucrative John Deere franchise with him. The beef was legendary.
The theory here is that Jones didn't swing the axe himself but hired a hitman. Specifically, people point to William "Blackie" Mansfield.
🔗 Read more: When Does Joe Biden's Term End: What Actually Happened
James Newton Wilkerson, a private detective from the Burns Detective Agency, became obsessed with pinning the crime on Jones. Wilkerson was a polarizing figure. He spent years riling up the town, claiming Jones paid Mansfield to wipe out the Moore family to settle the score. It sounds like a movie plot, right? But the evidence was mostly circumstantial. Mansfield was allegedly linked to other axe murders in Blue Island, Illinois, and Paola, Kansas. However, Mansfield had a solid alibi for the night of the Villisca murders—payroll records showed he was working in Illinois at the time.
The grand jury didn't buy Wilkerson's story. No charges were ever filed against Jones or Mansfield. But the damage to the town was done. Villisca split into two factions: those who believed Jones was a murderer and those who thought Wilkerson was a fraud. It tore the community apart for decades.
The Serial Killer Theory: Henry Lee Moore
No relation to the victims.
Henry Lee Moore was a nasty piece of work. Just months after the Villisca tragedy, he murdered his mother and grandmother with an axe in Missouri. Federal investigator M.W. McClaughry was convinced Henry was a serial killer responsible for a string of axe murders across the Midwest between 1911 and 1912.
The patterns were eerily similar.
- The weapon was always an axe found at the scene.
- The victims were killed in their sleep.
- The mirrors or windows were often covered.
- The killer stayed in the house for a while after the deeds were done.
If you look at the "Man from the Train" theory popularized recently by Bill James, the focus shifts to a nomadic killer moving via the rail lines. Villisca was a major rail hub. It makes sense. A drifter could hop off a train, commit an atrocity, and be three towns away before the sun came up. This bypasses all the local drama and focuses on the chilling reality of a predator passing through.
💡 You might also like: Fire in Idyllwild California: What Most People Get Wrong
The "Unknown" Suspect and the Messy Investigation
We have to be honest: the police botched this from minute one. Hundreds of townspeople walked through the house before the scene was secured. They touched things. They looked at the bodies. They destroyed any chance of finding usable fingerprints or blood spatter patterns that could hold up in court.
Because of this, the list of Villisca axe murders suspects has remained speculative. There was a man named Andy Sawyer who was picked up by a railroad foreman. Sawyer allegedly told people he was in Villisca that night and slept in a barn. He was weirdly obsessed with axes and carried one with him. But when the police questioned him, he didn't seem to have the "insider knowledge" a killer would have. They let him go.
Then there was the "Axe-man" of New Orleans and other similar killers across the country. Was Villisca part of a larger spree? Maybe. But the Iowa authorities were so focused on local grudges and the eccentric preacher that they might have missed the actual monster standing right in front of them.
What We Actually Know Today
We know the killer entered through the back door. We know they started in the downstairs bedroom where the Stillinger sisters—guests of the Moores—were sleeping. Or did they start upstairs with Josiah and Sarah? The blood patterns (what little was recorded) suggest a specific order, but even that is debated.
The axe was left in the guest room. A four-pound piece of bacon was found wrapped in a cloth near the axe. Why bacon? It’s one of the most bizarre details of the case. Some think it was used for a ritual; others think it was just a random object the killer grabbed.
Why the Case Still Haunts Us
Villisca isn't just a cold case; it's a window into the fears of 1912 America. It was the end of innocence for small-town Iowa. You didn't have to lock your doors until June 10th. After that, everything changed.
📖 Related: Who Is More Likely to Win the Election 2024: What Most People Get Wrong
The house still stands. You can actually stay the night there if you're brave enough. People report seeing shadows, hearing children's voices, and feeling a heavy sense of dread in the parents' bedroom. Whether that's psychological or something else, the "Axe Murder House" remains a monument to an unsolved tragedy.
Actionable Insights for Cold Case Enthusiasts
If you're digging into the Villisca axe murders suspects, don't just rely on sensationalized TV specials. The truth is in the primary documents.
- Read the Grand Jury Transcripts: Many of the original testimonies are available through the Villisca Historical Society. They show the raw, unfiltered confusion of the witnesses.
- Study the "Man from the Train" Hypothesis: Bill James’s book provides a data-driven look at how this might have been a serial crime rather than a local hit. It changes the way you look at the geography of the Midwest in 1912.
- Analyze the Crime Scene Photos: While grainy, the photos of the Moore house show the positioning of the furniture and the covered mirrors. It speaks to the killer's psychology—someone who wanted to "hide" the eyes of the dead or the reflections of their own deed.
- Check the Alibis: When you see a name like William Mansfield, look at the actual employment records cited by the grand jury. It’s easy to get swept up in the "corrupt politician" narrative, but the paper trail often tells a different story.
The Villisca murders will likely never be solved with 100% certainty. DNA isn't coming to save us here—the evidence is too old and too contaminated. We are left with the shadows of the preacher, the businessman, and the drifter. Each one fits a different piece of the puzzle, but none of them complete the picture.
To understand Villisca is to understand that sometimes, the monster just walks back into the darkness, and the world keeps turning anyway.
Next Steps for Research:
Visit the official Villisca Axe Murder House archives to view the digitized police reports from 1912. Comparing the initial witness statements to the trial testimonies five years later reveals how much "town gossip" influenced the legal proceedings against Reverend Kelly. This discrepancy is key to understanding why no conviction ever stuck.