Sweet Tea Murders
The little girl’s body floated silently on the cold water.
It was the morning of December 4, 1888, and Birmingham was still a young city—rough around the edges, ambitious, and growing faster than anyone could have imagined. Two boys rowing a boat across East Lake spotted what they first thought was a dead dog drifting near the surface.
As they drew closer, their blood ran cold. It was a child. She couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years old. Her name was May Hawes.
Within days, Birmingham would find itself gripped by one of the most horrifying murder cases in Southern history—a crime so shocking that it sparked a riot, left more than a dozen people dead, and filled newspaper headlines across America. More than a century later, it remains known simply as The Hawes Horror.
A Family in Trouble
Richard Hawes appeared to be an ordinary railroad engineer. He worked the rails between Birmingham and Mississippi and was generally well-liked by those who knew him. His wife, Emma, remained home caring for their three children: May, Irene, and little Willie. But behind the closed doors of the Hawes household, things were far from ordinary.
Neighbors spoke of constant troubles. There were rumors of drinking, arguments, and separation. Some believed the couple had divorced. Others claimed Richard had abandoned his family altogether. Nobody seemed to know the truth.
Then May’s body surfaced in East Lake. The city was in shock! A sweet, innocent child – killed and thrown into a lake for a final burial. It was…unfair.
As authorities searched for answers, they discovered something astonishing. Richard Hawes had remarried.
The Bridegroom in Handcuffs
While the city of Birmingham mourned a murdered child, a telegram arrived from Columbus, Mississippi. Richard Hawes had just married another woman.
Authorities immediately alerted officers along the railroad line. When the train carrying the newlyweds stopped in Birmingham, deputies boarded the passenger car and arrested Hawes while he was still dressed in his wedding suit.
The image was irresistible to newspaper reporters. Here was a smiling bride, a groom in handcuffs, and a murdered child. The story exploded across the country.
Yet even then, investigators had not found Emma Hawes or six-year-old Irene. But, surely, it couldn’t get any worse. But…the worst was still ahead.
The Blood-Speckled Axe
Four days later, searchers discovered a troubling clue near a pond in Birmingham’s Lakeview district. Lying near the pond was the unimaginable – a blood-speckled axe.
Also, marks in the mud nearby suggested that something heavy had been dragged to the water’s edge. Something like a body. Authorities immediately began dragging the pond. By noon they found Emma Hawes, the wife of Richard. She had been weighted down beneath the water. But, if she was dead, was he free to marry again – even if he was the only one that knew it?
The discovery unleashed a storm. Anger turned to hatred for Richard Hawes. Thousands of people crowded streetcars and flooded into the area. Rumors spread through saloons, churches, stores, and street corners. The anger pointed in one direction. Everyone seemed to agree on one thing: Richard Hawes deserved to die.
The Night Birmingham Went Mad
That evening, an angry mob gathered outside the city jail. Some estimates placed the crowd at more than 3,000 people. Some were armed with shotguns, rifles, and pistols. Men shouted for Hawes to be turned over for lynching. They repeated that there was no reason to wait for a trial. Who needed to? The evidence was plain. Hawes killed his wife and daughters, and he had to pay.
The law enforcement commanders called for all officers. They gathered around the jail like a small army of armed soldiers, bent on protecting the one that they, too, probably felt needed killin’. Meanwhile, city officials pleaded for calm. They may have felt the same, but this was no way to handled the situation. Tempers on both sides flared, emotions were high, and trigger fingers became itchy.
Then, the inevitable happened: a single gunshot rang out…actually, it became the first gunshot that rang out. Nobody knows with certainty who fired first, but it touched off an emotional and physical gun battle.
It lasted less than a minute. Police and deputies opened fire into the crowd. They simultaneously set off a volley, brought about by scared officers who were vastly outnumbered and outgunned.
When the smoke cleared, Birmingham’s streets looked like a Civil War battlefield. More than a dozen people lay dead or wounded. Among the victims were respected citizens who had merely come to watch the spectacle unfold. One dying man reportedly admitted he had come “out of curiosity.” Instead, he became part of the tragedy.
The riot made national headlines and transformed the Hawes case from a local murder investigation into a national sensation. Newspapers from around the country – maybe the world – eager to be the first to report any new developments, sent reporters to converge on Birmingham.
The Final Discovery
Authorities still had not located little Irene. Repeated searches of the pond failed to find her. Citizens demanded to know what happened to the least of the family. Was she killed? Was she in the pond? Had she been hacked up by the axe? Was she buried somewhere else? Was she perhaps still alive? People wanted answers.
Finally, out of desperation, officials decided to drain the pond. This would answer for sure, once and for all, if she was in the pond or elsewhere. It took some time, but they worked round the clock. Days later, they found her.
Like her mother, Irene had been weighted down and hidden beneath the surface. The discovery confirmed what Birmingham had feared from the beginning. This wasn’t a single murder. It was the destruction of an entire family.
Trial and Conviction
The trial began in 1889. It was a packed-out courtroom every day. Extra security had to be added in order to protect the defendant and the court officers.
Richard Hawes maintained his innocence. He and his lawyer put on pretty much defiant looks on their faces. The evidence against him was largely circumstantial. At that time, there was no fingerprint evidence, no video cameras, and no DNA. In today’s court, it would be hard to prove his guilt. In fact, in 1889, it was hard to prove his guilt.
However, prosecutors painted a devastating picture. A husband eager to rid himself of his family. A man already preparing a new marriage while his wife and daughters disappeared. A trail of lies and contradictions. It didn’t hurt the prosecution’s side that the entire town was full of hate for Hawes.
After hearing the evidence, the jury deliberated less than an hour. One has to wonder if the atmosphere surrounding the entire affair played a part in the jury’s decision. If they leaned toward acquittal, would THEY become targets?
The verdict: Guilty of murder. The sentence: Death by hanging.
The Last Walk
On February 28, 1890, Richard Hawes awoke for the last morning of his life. A local merchant had provided him with a new black suit, white shirt, necktie, and patent leather shoes.
Outside, tickets to witness the execution sold for astonishing sums. Public executions were still spectacles in those days, and this one was going to take place in front of a sell-out crowd. The entire park where the gallows were built was full of people…many who had been there since the day before, and camped out so they could have a good view. Food vendors sold food. Music was played. Souvenirs were sold. And the longer the day wore on, the more money that was made by entrepreneurs.
This wasn’t just a circus show. Nor was it like a camp meeting. Thousands wanted to see justice done. Some felt that it was their civic duty to witness the death of the man who so brutally murdered his wife and little girls.
Hawes ate little of his final meal. For whatever reason, he didn’t seem to have much of an appetite. As the hour approached, he was led to the gallows.
When the sheriff pulled the lever, the trapdoor opened beneath his feet. The man at the center of Birmingham’s greatest murder mystery was dead.
The Forgotten Victims
Today, visitors can walk through East Lake Park and admire the peaceful waters. Golfers stroll across the rolling greens of Highland Park Golf Course. Few realize that both locations were once crime scenes. The ponds where Emma and Irene were found are gone. The crowds are gone. The newspapers have yellowed and faded.
But the victims remain…Emma Hawes, May Hawes, and Irene Hawes.
All three are buried together in unmarked graves in Birmingham’s Oak Hill Cemetery. No grand monument marks the spot. No towering statue tells their story. Yet more than 135 years later, their names still echo through Alabama history. Not because of how they died, but because a city could never forget.
Sweet Tea Murders
The Hawes case reminds us that true crime did not begin with television cameras or social media. Long before modern headlines, communities gathered around shocking crimes, demanded justice, and struggled to understand the darkness capable of destroying innocent lives.
Some stories fade. Others become legends. The Hawes Horror became part of Birmingham’s history forever.
If you like these stories, go to sweetteamurders.com for more. While there, look around. Look for our LIVE events, our walking tours, our merchandise, and some old true stories, told like they should be. Told by Michael Earl Simmons, a retired police officer, former homicide detective, and southern police historian.
