The Axeman of New Orleans: The Killer Who Promised to Spare Every House Playing Jazz

On the night of March 19, 1919, the city of New Orleans was louder than anyone could remember.

Dance halls were packed. Bands played in living rooms and on front porches. People who could not afford a band played records, or banged pots, or sang. All over the city, people stayed up past midnight, making as much music as they could.

They were not celebrating. They were afraid.

A few days earlier, the newspapers had printed a letter from someone who called himself the Axeman. He said he would pass through the city that night. And he said he would spare anyone in a house where a jazz band was playing.

Nobody was attacked that night.

But the Axeman was real. He had already attacked a series of families in their beds. And he was never caught.

A city in 1918

In 1918, New Orleans was a busy port city, full of immigrants, music and small family businesses.

Many Italian immigrant families ran corner grocery stores, and lived in rooms right behind the shop. Their back doors opened onto small yards.

That would matter. Because the attacker almost always came in through the back.

The method

The Axeman's attacks followed a pattern.

He came at night. He usually got in by chiseling out a panel in the back door, reaching through, and unlocking it. The chisel and the panel were often left on the floor.

He attacked people while they slept. The weapon was usually an axe, and often it was an axe that already belonged to the family, one they kept for chopping firewood. In some attacks, a straight razor was used.

And he did not steal. Money and valuables were left behind.

May 23, 1918

The first attack in the series came on May 23, 1918.

Joseph and Catherine Maggio, an Italian couple who ran a grocery, were attacked in their bed in their home at the corner of Upperline and Magnolia Streets. Catherine was killed. Joseph was found by his brothers and died minutes later.

A bloody straight razor was found on a neighbor's lawn. A message was found written on the sidewalk nearby. A family member was questioned and released.

A month later, on June 27, a grocer and a woman who lived with him were attacked in the back of his grocery with a hatchet that belonged to him. They both survived, with serious injuries. In a tangled turn, the grocer himself was later charged after the woman accused him. He was acquitted.

In August, a pregnant woman named Anna Schneider was attacked in her home. She survived, and gave birth to a healthy daughter two days later.

Days after that, an elderly man named Joseph Romano was struck in his home. He died two days later. A bloody axe was found in the backyard. The back door had a chiseled panel.

The city was terrified. People bought guns. People slept in shifts. People reported finding axes in their yards.

Gretna, March 1919

After a pause of several months, the attacks started again.

On March 10, 1919, in Gretna, just across the Mississippi River from New Orleans, the Cortimiglia family was attacked in their home. Charles and Rosie Cortimiglia survived with skull fractures. Their baby daughter, Mary, was killed.

Then came one of the cruelest twists in the case. Rosie accused a neighboring grocer and his eighteen-year-old son. Both were tried and convicted. The son was sentenced to hang. The father was sentenced to life in prison.

Almost a year later, Rosie admitted she had accused them falsely, out of jealousy and spite. The two men were released.

The letter

Three days after the Gretna attack, on March 13, 1919, a letter was published in the New Orleans newspapers.

It was headed "Hell." It was signed "The Axeman."

It is worth hearing some of it in its own words. The writer said:

"They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest hell."

He then announced that, at fifteen minutes past midnight on the next Tuesday night, he would pass over New Orleans.

And then he made his offer.

"I am very fond of jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have just mentioned."

The night of jazz

Tuesday was March 19, 1919.

New Orleans was already the birthplace of jazz. And that night, the city filled with it. Dance halls were crowded. Families hired musicians to play in their homes. Bands performed on porches and in courtyards.

A local songwriter even published a piece of sheet music for the occasion, called "The Mysterious Axman's Jazz," with the subtitle, "Don't Scare Me Papa."

Midnight came. Twelve-fifteen came. The music played on.

And nobody was attacked.

Was the letter real? Many historians doubt it. It may have been a hoax by someone who saw a chance to cash in on the panic, or simply to have some fun. But it worked. For one night, the whole city danced to keep a killer away.

The last attacks

The attacks did not stop for good.

On August 10, 1919, a grocer named Steve Boca was attacked in his bedroom. He survived, but could not remember what happened.

On September 3, a nineteen-year-old woman named Sarah Laumann was attacked after someone came in through an open window. She survived, with a serious head injury and no memory of the attack. A bloody axe was found on the lawn.

On October 27, 1919, a man named Mike Pepitone was attacked in his home. His wife woke up and saw a large man with an axe running from the room. Pepitone died.

That was the last attack attributed to the Axeman.

And then, as suddenly as they had begun, the attacks stopped.

The investigation

The police arrested several people over the course of the case. Every one of them was released or acquitted. The case never had strong physical evidence.

A retired detective suggested the killer might be a man with a split personality, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and tried to link the attacks to a series of crimes in 1911. Recent researchers have questioned whether those earlier crimes were really connected.

Because so many of the victims were Italian immigrants, newspapers at the time suggested Mafia involvement, without any evidence. That theory fed on the anti-Italian prejudice that was common in New Orleans at the time. In fact, not all the victims were Italian, and no connection to organized crime was ever established.

Other researchers have suggested the attacker may have targeted women in particular, and that the men were attacked when they were in the way.

What we still don't know

The Axeman of New Orleans was never identified. He was never charged. The attacks stopped in October 1919, and nobody knows why.

He may have died. He may have been jailed for something else. He may have moved away. He may have simply stopped.

What we know for certain is this. For a year and a half, a killer slipped through back doors in the night and attacked families in their beds. Innocent people were wrongly accused, and two of them were sent to prison. And for one night in March 1919, an entire city stayed up playing jazz, hoping that would be enough to keep him away.

Who do you think the Axeman was? And do you think the letter was really from him?