Frank Hottman and Aggie Myers’ photos appeared in the Kansas City Journal, March 27, 1927.

The anatomy of a 1904 murder made national headlines

The lies told hours after Clarence Myers’ death coupled with the stereotype of women as innocent creatures created even more sensationalism as people in Kansas City dissected this horrific case.

By Diane Euston

  Kansas City has never been free of criminal behavior, and the more one looks into the history of the city, the more emerges of its dark past.

  Criminality was never limited to one race, creed, religion, neighborhood or gender, but when a horrific murder occurred in a quiet neighborhood in 1904, the city’s residents cringed at the details. And, as the story spread throughout the country, more details emerged about the young man murdered and the people pinned with the deed.

  Awakened from a deep sleep after whispers filled the air in his small bungalow, Clarence Myers, 20, was met in the middle of the night to blows to his face and stabs across his body. As he fought with his attacker, his wife, Aggie, stood to the side. Within seconds, Clarence couldn’t decipher what was behind his wife’s response.

  “Honey!” Clarence screeched through the pain, “You’re hitting the wrong man! Here, help me!”

  Justice was slow for the murderers of Clarence Myers. The lies told hours after his death coupled with the stereotype of women as innocent creatures created even more sensationalism as people in Kansas City dissected this horrific case.

Clarence Myers, the murder victim

Love and Marriage 

  Clarence Myers was born April 30, 1884 in Malta Bend, Mo., the youngest of four children born to Charles and Julia. At a young age, the family relocated to Newton, Kan. His father, Charles, was a well known and respected carpenter and coal dealer in the small town, and for the most part, Clarence’s childhood went along uneventfully. 

  Things changed for Clarence when, at about 16 years old in 1900, he opted to move to the big city – Kansas City- and began working in a printing office. On the streets of the city, he met a captivating and mysterious older woman named Aggie.

  Aggie’s story is a complicated one. Born about 1878 near Richmond, Mo., Agnes Marguerite Brock, known as Aggie by friends and family, was the youngest daughter of Harry and Blanche. Her father had been married at least twice before marrying her mother, and the family moved quite often, living for a time in Ray County and then in Lafayette County near Higginsville.

  She was an attractive girl of average education with auburn hair and dark eyes. Standing about 5’5” tall, Aggie certainly garnered the attention of men.

Aggie Myers

  When about 20 years old, Aggie hooked up with a young man named Ralph Payne and married him. The marriage was far from a happy one; the couple divorced in February 1901.

  The Brock family had relocated to Kansas City where Aggie was, living at 2037 Belleview. After moving back in with her parents, Aggie caught the eye of a handsome young man named Clarence.

  Just months after the ink dried on her divorce papers, Aggie and Clarence said “I do” in October 1901. She was about 23 years old, and Clarence was just 17.

  The couple settled into a simple life nearby Aggie’s parents at 2313 Terrace Ave. on the west side of Kansas City. The little bungalow wasn’t much, but it was a great start.

  It should have been the start of a happy life together. Clarence had a decent job at a printing company making $14 a week. He had to work nights often, but the pay was enough to live comfortably.

  On the evening of May 11, 1904, 20-year-old Clarence and 26-year-old Aggie settled onto their front porch, casually talking to neighbors on the cool evening. Aggie worked on sewing a garment while her husband talked and laughed with her. At dusk, the couple retreated inside their home.

  By the next morning, the neighborhood would never be the same again – and nor would Aggie Myers’ life.

The house where the murder occurred as it appeared in 1904 was drawn for the Kansas City Journal.

Murder and Mayhem

  It was just past six in the morning when the McGowan’s began their day just like any other on Terrace Ave. The sun had just risen, and Leo McGowan played quietly in the front yard while his mother, Kate, prepared breakfast.

  The shrieks of a woman in the calmness of dawn alerted a problem. When the child looked up at the house next door, he saw Aggie Myers lying on the floor of the porch covered in a blood-stained nightgown.

  Kate rushed outside to see what the commotion was, her husband, Michael steps behind her.

  Aggie retreated inside her home, and the neighbors quickly followed her. After stepping inside the home, Michael and Kate McGowan found Aggie lying with half her body in the doorway and the other half in the dining room. Just beyond her was what appeared to be the lifeless body of her 21-year-old husband, Clarence. 

  “In the name of God, what happened?” Kate shrieked as she absorbed the scene.

  William scooped Aggie off the ground and placed her in her bedroom. He couldn’t help but notice the exorbitant amount of blood in the room.

  The police were alerted of the crime, and in the meantime, Aggie – quite level-headed and with little emotion- told her neighbors that two African American men broke into the home in the middle of the night. One man held her down while the other beat Clarence up. She fainted, losing all sight of what happened afterward.

  The scene of the murder was vicious. 

The scene of the crime inside 2313 Terrace Ave. appeared in the Kansas City Star May 11, 1904.

  In the small dining room, Clarence’s motionless body was propped up against the wall “cold and stiffened in the rigor of death.” 

  When police arrived, they immediately got to work dissecting the scene. It was a different era of police work; in those days, it wasn’t uncommon for scenes to be trampled on by reporters and even nosy neighbors. 

  This was the case with the murder of Clarence Myers. Reporters immediately went to work interviewing witnesses, talking to police and even touring the crime scene.

  The police and medical examiner quickly noticed there wasn’t a large amount of blood around Clarence’s body, indicating that he had been moved after his death. Clarence’s head had cuts on it; his body had eight clean slashes on it – five of them in his back. The Kansas City Journal reported, “There was one large cut beginning on the right side of the face under the ear and running to the mouth. . . Another ran from the other ear and down the throat, severing the jugular vein. A third gash ran upwards in front of the neck and intersected the other two.”

  Police detectives could tell from the wounds that it appeared that one person attacked him from the front while the other stabbed him from behind. He had a total of 16 wounds. 

   “With one or two exceptions, it was the worst scene the police had ever been called on to witness for years, and one which promises now to tax their detective ability to the utmost,” the Kansas City Times wrote.

  Near the body, police found a pair of bloody cufflinks and a blood-spattered hat. The tag on the inside of the hat indicated that it was sold by a merchant in Higginsville, Mo.

  A dust pan in the kitchen showed evidence that it was used to clean up blood on the floor. The stove in the kitchen showed remnants of blood and burned-up clothing items.

  The most peculiar element of the crime scene was just four feet from Clarence’s lifeless body. Detectives on their first pass of the scene couldn’t locate large pools of blood, but the injuries indicated that the victim bled out a great quantity. 

  Under closer examination, detectives found that the rug in the dining room was hiding a large clue. Under the rug, they found a layer of newspapers. Beyond that layer was another carpet soaked in blood. It appeared the robbers were quick-witted enough to try to hide the actual spot of the horrific murder by using layers of paper and carpets to hide the two-foot wide blood stain on the floor. 

  Clarence had been moved after his death.

  Possible weapons were located nearby. Half of a pool cue was found, possibly used to strike the victim on the head. And, a rusty razor and pair of scissors indicated they may have been used in the crime.

  Rules of police work were a tad bit different in the early 1900s, and it wasn’t uncommon for witnesses and suspects to be held without a warrant for days at a time. Due to the seriousness of the crime, Aggie Meyers was taken down to police headquarters and held for the entire day. 

  She continued to repeat the story of two men in masks entering the home. She insisted she was held with her hands behind her back by one man as the other assaulted her husband.

  Aggie pleaded her case to detectives, emphatically stating, “I cannot imagine why anyone would suspect that I had any hand in my husband’s death. He was the best of husbands. He gave me all the money he earned; he was attentive to me; he loved his home; he worked hard.”

   The problem was that the evidence didn’t add up.

Kansas City Journal, May 12, 1904

The Evidence Emerges and Suspects Arrested

  By the day after the murder, Aggie had been released from police custody. Chief of Police John Hayes had been present at all witness interviews and publicly declared, “I incline to the burglar story.”

  This actually led to the arrest of two Black men known to the police department, but Aggie didn’t positively identify them. 

  For two months, police chased legitimate leads. On July 3, 1904, police officers arrived in Walla Walla, Wash. and arrested 18-year-old Frank Hottman.

  The newspapers swarmed at the story, printing on the front cover the apprehension of this unknown individual. His name flashed across the headlines, with a subheading identifying in bold that Frank “was a friend of the murdered man’s widow.”

    At first, Frank Hottman vehemently denied his involvement in the heinous crime, but it didn’t take the smooth, chubby-faced, cross-eyed teenager long to crack under the pressure.

  About 24 hours after his arrest, Hottman confessed everything – and the story behind the crime was worse than what detectives had predicted.

  The story flowed from Frank’s lips, revealing for the first time that he murdered Clarence and Aggie helped him. He claimed they were going to run off together, so they “had to get [Clarence] Myers out of the way.” 

  Frank even had a nickname for Aggie; he called her “Toots.” 

  He said he had been friends with Aggie for about 10 years when they were children growing up near Higginsville, Mo. Frank had been employed most recently at the Confederate Home as a cook, and several weeks before the crime, she had stayed with the Hottman family. 

  Aggie was close to Frank’s older sister, Nettie. She later testified that Frank and Aggie went buggy riding by themselves. When Nettie suggested it looked like Aggie just came to visit Frank, Aggie told her she was jealous. “It looked like she wanted Frank everywhere she went,” Nettie said.

  It appeared that 18-year-old Frank had been bewitched by 26-year-old Aggie. 

Aggie Myers two months before the murder of her husband

  The plan was put into place weeks before the murder, and the night of May 11, 1904, Aggie let Frank in the back door of the home. He brought with him a pool cue that was used as a walking stick by his grandfather.

  Clarence was sound asleep in the bedroom when Aggie and Frank whispered to each other. The noise must have awakened poor Clarence. Frank wasted no time, striking him once over the head with the pool cue. The two wrestled for control of the makeshift weapon, and Frank claimed Clarence was getting the best of him.

  Aggie took a bed slat and struck her husband over the head, giving Frank the upper hand.

  As things intensified, the struggle moved to the dining room. As Frank took a rusty razor and cut Clarence’s throat, Aggie came from behind and stabbed her husband multiple times with a pair of scissors. Clarence’s windpipe was severed in the process, accounting for the pool of blood later covered over with the rug.

  Clarence fell silent, the gurgling gasps of his attack taking his young life.

  Hottman washed his hands in the sink, and as he prepared to leave, he noted his hat was too blood-soaked to be taken with him. Aggie casually gave him one of Clarence’s hats and $10 to help with his escape. 

  Frank went back to his home in Higginsville, and hastily packed the few items he had to join a relative in Walla Walla, Washington. Frank’s father was certainly suspicious, but that didn’t stop him from giving him $60 to run away.

  Frank’s sister, Nettie, took a train to Kansas City to comfort her childhood friend in her grief. Aggie refused to go to the funeral in Newton, Kan. even though his parents wanted her there. 

  Aggie did tell Nettie something suspicious that wasn’t disclosed until after Frank’s arrest. “She told me to write to Frank . . . If [Frank] had minded his Toots once and he must mind her again.” 

  Frank’s father, John, had letters written by Aggie that were sent to his home. One instructed him to burn any shirt with evidence on it, and another letter included $10 to send to Frank.

  Frank never went to trial since he had confessed to the murder. He was sentenced to hang.

  The walls were closing in on Aggie Myers, and police arrested her.

Kansas CIty Journal, July 8, 1904.

A Celebrity Prisoner and Trial

  When Aggie read Frank’s lengthy confession, she changed her story – but only a little bit. If her childhood friend, Frank Hottman was the murderer, then she claimed he must have “blacked up” his face. 

  Of course, she never admitted that she put him up to it or confessed to stabbing her husband in the back with scissors.

  Aggie awaited her trial that was delayed multiple times at the city jail.  She wanted little, because Aggie Myers had become a national celebrity. She received multiple marriage proposals and received visitors all the time. “Yesterday, however,” the Kansas City Journal wrote on March 10, 1905, “was a light day for visitors, with only about 400 persons calling at the jail during the entire day.”

  Days later, Aggie’s defense team was granted a change of venue on the grounds that their client couldn’t get a fair trial in Kansas City. So, the trial was moved to Clay County.

  She was moved to the Clay County Jail in Liberty, Mo. days later. On the trip up to her new temporary home, prison officials permitted Aggie to visit with friends, have a picnic lunch with them, and then go on a pleasure drive through the country. Two of her friends had shotguns with them, and near the Missouri River, officers allowed Aggie to grab one of the rifles and shoot at ducks.

  As stated before, much has changed about police work over the last century.

  The trial began June 5, 1905, and included 57 witnesses for the state and 28 for the defense. Aggie did not testify. Her life rested in the hands of 12 Clay County farmers selected as jurors. 

Aggie Myers wrote a letter that appeared in the Kansas City Journal, July 13, 1904.

  A swift trial of four days commenced, and the jury was sent to deliberate. 

  On Sunday, June 11, 1905, Aggie was found guilty of first degree murder.

  Her attorneys filed an appeal immediately, stating there was evidence that when the trial was underway, the jury went to a saloon, and five of them “took drinks for ‘medicinal purposes only.’” They swore they didn’t discuss the case.

The fate of Aggie Myers made the front page of the papers June 12, 1905.

  A hearing for a new trial was appealed all the way to the state supreme court; in the meantime, Agnes Marguerite Myers was sentenced to hang.

  The appeal didn’t work except to delay the hangings of Frank Hottman and Aggie Myers. Meanwhile, the country was still captivated by the story of a woman murderer and her impending fate. 

  Aggie’s lawyers told newspapers they would appeal all the way up to the Supreme Court of the United States, and in the meantime, they appealed to the governor of Missouri, Joseph “Holy Joe” Folk to place a stay on her execution.

  Governor Folk pulled through, and he commuted the sentences of both Frank Hottman and Aggie Myers in April 1907 and both escaped the gallows. They were moved to Jefferson City to serve their life sentences.

  Aggie coyly said to reporters as she left from the Union Depot in the West Bottoms, “I’ll be back before you get your new Union Depot.” 

  Aggie was off by a decade, but she would be free soon enough to step foot inside Union Station.

Kansas City Journal, May 23, 1906.

Justice Served?

  It really was not a surprise that Aggie’s sentence to hang was commuted; the state hadn’t executed a woman since the Civil War. However, the heinous nature of the crime had parties on both sides of the issue sick about her sentence of a life term.

  Aggie was a dog lover, and it wasn’t long before a small fox terrier named Wiggles became her constant companion. Again, rules appear to have been quite different in the early 20th century; they let her keep a pet inside the state prison.

  Time rushed on with no resolution; both of Aggie’s parents passed away while she was in prison. Her younger brother, John, didn’t give up hope that his sister would walk free yet again. He continued letter writing to the prison board, stating he would be happy to have his sister live with him in Kansas City. 

  Aggie’s health wasn’t the best, and the newspapers reported that “prison life [was] killing husband slayer, relatives say.” 

  Just shy of 20 years after being imprisoned for the murder of Clarence Myers, Frank Hottman fell deathly ill with appendicitis. On Sept. 15, 1923, he died after an unsuccessful operation. He was just 37 years old.

  Less than two years later, more appeals to release Aggie garnered the attention of the nation and the governor. At this point, Aggie had been in prison longer than any woman in United States history!

  Days before leaving office, Governor Arthur Hyde granted 25 pardons – including Aggie.

The home where the murder occurred as it appeared in 1940. The house still stands at 2313 Terrace Ave. Courtesy of the State Historical Society of Missouri.

  When Aggie Myers arrived at Union Station in Kansas City on January 10, 1925, she had served just over 20 years in prison. Her plan was to live with her brother, and the changes within the city were a surprise to her. “The skyline was different and she remarked, there were a lot of automobiles,” the newspaper reported.

  Aggie Myers never admitted to her role in her husband’s death, but she never could fully exonerate herself to the court of public opinion. By 1929, Aggie had remarried and “succeeded in hiding [her identity].” She was married to a druggist and living in Colorado.

  The case in 1904 of the cruel murder of 20-year-old Clarence Myers captivated the headlines across the nation for two years, and the fact that an accused murderer served a longer prison term than any woman in American history at the time further fueled the fire.

  Three lives were forever changed on that fateful day in Kansas City, and the fate of the woman who served 20 years is lost to history. Some mysteries, even for modern-day historians, remain unsolved.


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