Now, wouldn't you think that the crude and unceremonious burial of Jim Cullen's evil bones would end the very short epic account of Maine's only known lynching, huh? Well, readers, it ain't so, because there's more, in fact, there's yet another chapter or two which even a seasoned writer like Mr. S. King of Bangor would have difficulty conjuring up to complete this gruesome tale. Just months after the bones of Cullen had been committed to roll around hell all day and forever, someone had to come by and want those bones and, in fact, would go to great lengths to procure them. It was in September of that same year, 1873, when 2 men, one with a shovel, the other with a pickaxe, sought the dark of night to exhume Cullen from an unsacred grave. Here's the story:
A certain Professor Bateman from Bates College, an institution of higher learning in Lewiston, Me. founded in 1855 by Maine abolitionists, was scheduled to lecture to P.I. villagers on the subject of phrenology, a sort of an arcane and mysterious science which held that by studying the conformations (bumps) of one's skull, the character and mental capacity of that person could be determined. Whether or not Bateman intentionally used his lecture as a front to inquire about an unclaimed body (Cullen's) or he had discovered the facts while he was in town, isn't known, but, either way, Bateman was bound and determined to acquire Cullen's skull to add to his own collection. The professor was boarding at the hotel (then the Reed Hotel, present site of the Northeastland). So persistent was he inquiring about Cullen's body that someone told him that he'd better seek a lawyer here in town because digging up or molesting a grave site is highly illegal, despite the one (Cullen) buried. Bateman finally approached a young law student by the name of Smith. Smith simply advised him that it was illegal to do so and to leave the matter.
But it seems that Professor Bateman was not one to be denied; he made an offer to the young lawyer a grand sum of $25 to accompany him to exhume the body. Well, we know that everything and every deal has a strike price and so was the $25 to Smith. Twenty-five dollars in 1873 was a bag full of money and it certainly gave him interest in the deal he had moments before told Bateman to forget. After all, the money would alleviate somewhat his struggle to become a lawyer.....he had bills. So, the deal was made and Smith admitted that he knew exactly where the unmarked grave was and he'd now be happy to show him and even help him with the exhumation.
Now, according to Phin Ellis, the two men met at the State St. Bridge after the sun had set in order not to be noticed. The bridge was then an old one constructed crudely of logs by Dennis Fairbanks, arguably the village's founder back in the late 1820's. From there they walked to the town dump 2 miles out towards Mapleton. Bateman brought what he thought would be the right tools for the job: a pail, hammer, pickaxe, shovel, jimmy bar, and a kerosene lamp. It appeared that he knew exactly what to do and, no doubt, had done this many times before.... after all, he was in the business of skull collecting, wasn't he?
The dirt, only months old, was easily shoveled away from the burial site. With much moaning and groaning (remember, Cullen was big man, well over 200 pounds) the 2 body snatchers lifted the box from its shallow grave and with the hammer and jimmy bar removed the lid revealing Cullen's decaying remains. Bateman, being single-minded, was unflinching by the site of the corpse, but Smith wasn't sure he could continue with the ordeal. Bateman had brought along a flask of gin just for the occasion and offered Smith a few swigs of "courage". Smith replied with a reluctant "yes", sat down on a small mound of dirt and took Bateman up on his offer. After several minutes and several swigs of "courage", Smith felt better and wished to continue. The head had to be disconnected from the rest of Cullen's body, a job which, again, turned nasty for Smith and caused him to turn away once more. Bateman offered more "courage"...again the work continued. The effects of the gin were now evident; Smith not only didn't mind what he was doing, but he might be willing to skin out the whole body. Bateman said it was kind of him to offer, but he was only interested in the head. The head now severed, the lid was replaced and the crude coffin was placed into the hole. Dirt was shoveled back until the coffin was covered, then leaves were spread to obscure any evidence of activity.
It was late in the evening and safe to build a scant fire close by. A small mound of rocks was set into the fire in order to heat the water in the bucket. The skull then was plunged into the bucket of boiling water; several minutes later the flesh began to fall away. The job finished, the pair walked back to town, the skull concealed under Bateman’s heavy coat. The professor left town the next day.
In 1887 Professor Bateman returned to the area, this time in Easton. He had brought along several skulls to demonstrate what the science of phrenology was all about. Why he chose Easton is not known. In the crowd, which had gathered to hear the professor, was a gentleman named Fred Smith. While Bateman was telling the story of one particular skull, Smith recognized the details and knew for certain that skull belonged to Cullen. After the lecture Smith approached the professor and asked if it was okay to ask questions about that particular skull. Bateman allowed the inquiry. It was soon evident to Bateman that the questions posed by Smith were to be given little attention and were brushed off. Bateman readied his rented stagecoach, left soon after the lecture and was never seen again in the area.
Bateman's qualifications are suspect. Voscar, equipped with an inquiring and suspicious nature, contacted Bates College years ago when he was writing the Cullen story for the paper back in the '70's. He discovered that no Professor Bateman had ever been on record as serving the college. Hmmmm....
The final curtain draws near on the grisly and macabre story of Jim Cullen, but it's not until 10 years later that the curtain closes. Stay tuned for the last act, an act as shocking as the ones before. This time, though, the bones of Jim Cullen aren't involved, but the same, site at which Cullen executed the 2 sheriffs deep in the woods at Swanback's camp again is revisited by the fickleness of fate's finger.