Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death & the Mother of Forensic Science

To Mrs. Frances G. Lee, Captain, New Hampshire State Police, And One of the Few Women Who Ever Kept Perry Mason Guessing

–Erle Stanley Gardner, The Case of the Dubious Bridegroom

In Chicago, on 25 March 1878, John Jacob and Sarah Frances Glessner welcomed a second child to their family.

Bearing the middle name of her mother, young Frances was born into a world of privilege and impediment. An executive involved in the creation of the International Harvester Company, John Glessner amassed a substantial fortune, providing Frances and her older brother, George, with every financial comfort of the day. The children received personal education at home. They were bright and creative, harvesting artistic hobbies while dabbling in the era’s nascent technology, such as photography and telegraphy. But while George was shipped to Harvard, the Glessners ushered Frances onto the “formal” track of a wealthy young woman. As the Glessner House Museum puts it, “in November 1987, she made her formal Chicago society debut.” Five months later, at 19, she married Blewett Harrison Lee, an attorney she barely knew.

There would be no Harvard for Frances. At least not yet.

If we were writing a mystery novel from an outsider’s viewpoint over a century later, Frances Glessner Lee’s inability to matriculate to higher learning would form one of four major plot points that drove her life.

The second would be, fittingly, a love for literature, particularly a genre that exploded during her childhood. When she was nine, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle began publishing the Sherlock Holmes books. Glessner Lee seems to have been fascinated by the attention to detail and overlooked evidence rife in Doyle’s portrayals of the famous detective.

Key plot point number three emerged when she developed tonsillitis. A doctor’s visit suggested a dicey treatment, so her parents solicited a second opinion. Physician number two recommended surgery to remove her tonsils. Though surgery was still rather treacherous and often fatal, the approach seemed necessary. Frances survived and recovered. This experience filled her with a curiosity about medicine; during summers at the family estate in New Hampshire, she convinced local doctors to let her tag along on home visits.

Rounding out the quartet was Glessner Lee’s adoration of the diorama. She became a skilled crafter of miniature scenes, starting with an accurate portrayal of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra as a birthday present for her mother.

After having three children, Glessner and Lee’s unhappy marriage ended in divorce in 1914. Frances moved to Boston, where she managed a house for returning World War I veterans. She developed a friendship with Dr. George Burgess Magrath, an associate of her brother and the Suffolk County medical examiner. Though formal education had not been in the cards, this relationship launched Glessner Lee toward the title of “the mother of forensic science.”

Glessner Lee and Magrath realized that many coroners of the time possessed no rigorous medical or forensic training. Frances began a push to standardize the profession. Armed with a fortune from her parents, she revolutionized forensic science by founding the Department of Legal Medicine at Harvard in 1931, the first such body in the world. Three years later, she kick-started Harvard’s Magrath Library of Legal Medicine. Unable to follow her brother there, she made quite the mark at the Ivy League University.

She and Magrath lobbied for coroners to become highly trained, leading to the modern evolution of the practice.

Glessner Lee’s gifts weren’t relegated to monetary infusions, however.

Her lasting contribution weaved the major points of the Glessner Lee novel into an incisive, educational work of art. Dubbed the Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death, Frances painstakingly created 20 crime-scene dioramas based on the idea that investigations should “convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell.”

Glessner Lee used historical cases to make each miniature scene. The pieces had two main thrusts, one overt and the other subtle. Each location was filled with precise details and incredible craftsmanship. At a scale of one inch to one foot, Glessner Lee’s windows, doors, and appliances opened and closed. Dead bodies lay as they had in real life, wearing period-specific clothing. The angles of bullet holes and blood spatters were meticulously accurate. Mini calendars hung on walls, opened to the proper date; books with legible titles sat on shelves, with nods to her love of Sherlock Holmes. Each detail was important; each scene was complete.

Reportedly, she spent $3,000 to $4,500 on each diorama, the equivalent of $50,000 to $80,000 in 2025 dollars!

The scenes were so realistic that law enforcement officers used them to practice their observation skills. Glessner Lee conducted semi-annual seminars at Harvard, where she gave attendees 90 minutes to study each situation. The point wasn’t to solve each crime, but to demonstrate how hard it is to notice everything, to teach officers how to collect data properly.

One of the few non-official people allowed to attend the conferences was Earl Stanley Gardner, the creator of Perry Mason. He was so taken with Glessner Lee’s abilities that he dedicated one of his novels to her.

The dioramas were (are!) so effective that they continue to be utilized today at the Maryland Medical Examiner’s Office. They also developed an artistic following. In 2017 and 2018, the Smithsonian American Art Museum displayed the Nutshell Studies.

This secondary appreciation undoubtedly arrives in part due to Glessner Lee’s keen eye for detail, but also because of the subject matter. Though wealthy, Frances was astutely aware that she lived in an era where being a woman did not allow her the same avenues as those afforded to men. She represented this imbalance in the crimes she chose to display in the studies. Women and non-wealthy abound, shining a light on those often overlooked in society, including attention from crime fighters.

Her dioramas were both a rigorous educational tool and a societal commentary. The Nutshells continue to fascinate artists and true-crime lovers worldwide (for photos of all the dioramas, check out the Smithsonian link in the Further Reading and Exploration section below).

The impact of her work led to her becoming a captain of the New Hampshire State Police. She was the first woman inducted into the International Association of Chiefs of Police.

Perhaps more importantly, though, she helped advance the science of forensics. Today, it’s much easier to find the truth in a nutshell than it was when Frances was young. A development Sherlock Holmes would approve.

As the Mother of Forensic Science, Frances Glessner Lee easily earns a spot in TMAC’s Woman Crush Wednesday Hall of Fame!