Confessions of the Serial Killer H.H. Holmes (Illustrated)

Home > Other > Confessions of the Serial Killer H.H. Holmes (Illustrated) > Page 28
Confessions of the Serial Killer H.H. Holmes (Illustrated) Page 28

by Mudgett (aka H. H. Holmes), Herman Webster

"Oh, I didn't see them again until I saw Alice and Nellie in the morgue in Toronto and the last belongings of little Howard in the Coroner's office in Indianapolis!” What a tale of horror and of woe is unfolded in that harrowing sentence. How this woman's pitiable plight should have moved every man of us to treat her with the utmost consideration and kindness and yet I say to you gentlemen, that my blood boiled with indignation yesterday when counsel, with mistake, attempted to press her with questions under disguise, for the purpose of making her appear a party to the conspiracy in this case.

  "Why of course she knew what her husband was going to do; she was particeps criminis to the extent that she concealed that fact to protect her husband, and that is all that they can charge against her. The counsel for the prisoner was compelled to probe with questions and he said, 'Weren't you arrested in Boston?' 'Weren't you brought back under arrest?' 'Weren't you put in the county prison?' 'Weren't you indicted for conspiracy?' In the name of justice hasn't there been enough done? Yet, they think this is necessary. One more burden must be added.

  "This man wants to make her appear to have been as black as he in the case of conspiracy. That was the object, to argue against credibility-to make her appear to be a coconspirator with him, and therefore not worthy of belief. But every step of that journey was corroborated practically by Dessie; everything that occurred in it was corroborated by her. Think of the cipher letters he prepared. What an uncandid and villainous man it is who would prepare a cipher letter to bring into that mother's presence and read to her as if coming from her little children. Those children whose voices she could never hear again were to be misrepresented by that cipher letter as if speaking to her. Think also of tire other cipher letter purporting to have come from her husband. Well might he attempt to disguise them in some form pretending that one came from the children, (then dead), and that one came from Benjamin F. Pitezel (who was moldering in his grave), telling her of his whereabouts in Montreal. Was there ever a case of more wicked and inexcusable deceit than this? Why did he adopt all this publicity? Why was he guilty of all this subterfuge? Why was it that he deceived everybody with these stories?”

  "Gentlemen there is but one answer, and it is that in the room on the second story of No. I316 Callohill Street he took the life of Benjamin F. Pitezel! .... He was telling these malicious lies to cover up a horrible murder!"

  On the second day of November 1895, the jury rendered a verdict of "murder in the first degree and on November 30th, after the motion for a new trial had been overruled, Holmes was sentenced to be hung by the neck until he was dead.

  Kind hands were ready to care for poor, exhausted Mrs. Pitezel. Some ladies who were members of a Christian Endeavor Society took her under their protection and so let us hope that her terrible sufferings are now at an end so far as new calamities are concerned.

  Hung

  On May 7th, 1896, the multi-murderer was sent to his doom. He was hanged in Moyammensing Prison, at Philadelphia.

  The drop fell at 1O:12- o'clock and half an hour later he was pronounced dead. His neck was broken by the fall.

  He was buried at the Holy Cross Cemetery in a grave ten feet deep. His coffin was a great metal bound casket, which was so heavy that it was hauled from the prison to the burying ground on one of the huge trucks used for carrying stone.

  Holmes Castle

  A short time before his execution Holmes was paid a fabulous sum of money by a syndicate of newspapers to write a confession. In this confession he boasts of having killed twenty-seven people. The names of all his victims are not given in this confession.

  It is very probable that Holmes murdered and helped to murder far more than twenty-seven people, in spite of the fact that some of the people he claimed to have killed turned up alive. This man was such a monumental liar that he could not resist the temptation to try and make his deeds more horrible than they really were. Unquestionably the most horrible narrative he could have written would be the truthful one. There is no doubt that he planned and built a house in Chicago, where he could murder and dispose of victims without detection. This house is located on Sixty-third Street and has become famous under the name of "The Castle."

  A description of this strange building was given in all the newspapers at the time of its discovery. Recently the Cincinnati Commercial Gazette said:

  "In the story of Holmes and his crimes there is nothing more interesting than the description of his castle where he is accused of having provided all sorts of devices for disposing of his victims. The castle is at 701 Sixty-third Street, Chicago. It was built with the sole idea of convenience for the commission of crime. Holmes built it himself.

  He selected the workmen. Until the Chicago police began their investigation of the place, Holmes and Pat Quinlan, the janitor of the building, were the only men alive who knew anything to speak of about the interior of the place.

  The building is three stories high. The style of architecture suggests the name the castle. In the main it was built with the idea of renting it out as flats, and for business purposes. It was in Holmes apartments and in the basement that the secrets were found. The rooms used as offices by Holmes were in the front of the second floor, just in the rear of the offices. From Holmes own bathroom there was a secret stairway leading to the street and also to the basement. The entrance to it was through a trap door in the floor of the bathroom. This door was concealed by a rug. There was a chute running from the roof to the cellar, with an entrance in the bathroom through the trap door, and there was a blind wall between the secret stairway and the chute. On the third floor of the building there were also trap doors. One led into a room, which was used as the laboratory of the drug store, which was on the level with the street, and another led into the bathroom.

  On the first floor in Holmes offices there were vaults capable of being made airtight, and built around so that no sound, could be heard from them. Then there were rooms with no means of ventilation except the door. When that was closed no air could get in.

  It was in the cellar that the police made their greatest discoveries. Two sheet-iron tanks entirely covered by the cellar floor were found, and in the bottom were some bones, which were believed to be those of human beings. In an ash-pile nearby were found pieces of linen blood-stained.

  There was also a firebox, or furnace, in the basement. It was built into the wall. There was a grate, covered with sheet-iron seven-eights of an inch thick. Underneath was another grate, intended to hold the fire. The top of the furnace was two feet six inches above the top grate. There was an iron flue from the furnace, which led to a tank. There was no other entrance to the tank. At the bottom of a vault was a white fluid, which gave forth an overpowering odor. In a hole in the middle of the cellar more bones were found.

  The world is indeed fortunate to be rid of this black-hearted monster. It is a great pity that all his accomplices cannot be ferreted out and sent to join him in a felon's tomb.

  THE END

  THE HOLMES CASTLE

  A Story of H. H. Holmes’

  Mysterious Work.

  By ROBT. L. CORBITT.

  COPYRIGHT, 1895,

  By CORBITT & MORRISON,

  CHICAGO, ILL.

  A HINT

  "But that I am forbid

  To tell the secrets of my prison-house,

  I could a tale unfold, whose lightest word

  Would harrow up thy soul; freeze thy young blood;

  Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres;

  Thy knotted and combined locks to part,

  And each particular hair to stand on end,

  Like quills upon the fretful porcupine."

  --Shakespeare

  INTRODUCTORY

  Believing that the minds of the people bend with the wave, and that they are still curious to know the facts in the case of the alleged greatest criminal of the world, the author of this book will try to throw some light on the mysterious work of H. H. Holmes.

  The story will be div
ided into epigraphs, all contained in this volume, which when placed together, will conclusively show some of the facts in the greatest mystery case the police have ever handled.

  The author was present during the investigation which was conducted at the "Castle," and believes he can relate facts which have heretofore been kept secret.

  ROBT. L. CORBITT.

  Dated Aug. 19, 1895.

  I wish to state to the public that I started in search of material for this book as soon as the investigation was begun. After the bones had been dug up in the cellar I went to explore the rooms of the upper floors. After a day or two's search while going over some small parts of letters which I found in a grate in the room formerly occupied by Holmes as his private chamber, I was surprised by Patrick B. Quinlan addressing me. He informed me it was no use for me to look at the letters. However, I continued to place the particles of the letters together by laying the water marks in the paper in their proper order as I would discover them. One of the letters was on a cream wove paper, the other on white, which is called a laid stock. I had just picked out pieces of a canary colored envelope when Quinlan again returned with Detective Norton and charged me with breaking open the door of the room and wanted me placed under arrest.

  Norton made me give up the letters and the envelope. The envelope had the British stamp on it and was mailed from London, England, in June, 1894.

  I was then excluded from the building, but put a confederate to work for me and so succeeded in getting out a large bundle of letters and Holmes' account book which I had carefully hidden away between the floor and the ceiling below.

  ROBT. L CORBITT.

  THE CASTLE.

  Not by a mountain side, nor on the bank of a rushing river stands an old and deserted castle; but by the side of four railroad tracks leading South out of the great city of Chicago, where the puffing and roaring and hissing of steam, caused by locomotives which are almost momentarily passing over these tracks is a castle of modern construction. Its high, red brick walls and windows of curving contour whose stained glass of variegated colors make it strikingly attractive.

  High, and over all, its charred roof tells of a fire which occurred some time ago, and ever since then the castle has been untenanted save six rooms on the first floor-and as the author tells you, it is a modern castle it will not surprise you to learn that below it all are stores which are still and always been occupied.

  The corner store, in particular, is a beautiful piece of work. A semi-hexagon entrance bows in a one corner. In the center of the entrance is a massive pillar topped with an elaborate and elegant composite capital, radiant with harmonious colors, which supports an pen column of curved glass windows towering high aver the buildings and this is surmounted with, what was once a beautiful cupola, but the fire has weakened it so that storms and time have left of it nothing but a shattered dome. The ceiling of the entrance mentioned is graced with a beautiful design to represent a Catherine wheel which is arranged about the supporting capitol in such a manner as to dazzle the eyes of one who might attempt to study its pattern.

  The interior, both ceiling and walls, of the store are decorated with frescoed stucco work which is delightfully arranged in mild colors.

  The floor is laid with alternating black and white diamond shaped tiling. A huge vault showing a massive iron door is encased in the wall at the end of the store.

  Immediately back of the store is a winding staircase which leads from the outside to the top of the castle. This stairway is enclosed in what appears to be a grand oriel-window projecting from the outside wall, and supported from about midway between the ground and first floor by a corbel of honey-comb design, and tiers to the top of the building where it ends in charred and broken pieces like the rest of that uppermost part of the castle. The stairway within the oriel has a landing at each floor, one of which leads through long halls and corridors to a windowless room.

  In a room on the next floor there is a false vault made of steel which is placed against the wall and covered with plastering, and also solidly packed with mineral wool.

  From this room one can walk into a maze like place leading to a bathroom which has a hatchway in the floor with winding stairs running to the cellar.

  A square shaft running from the roof to the cellar connects with the stairs leading from the hatchway.

  In all, the interior is strangely labyrinthian.

  The cellar is not unlike others.

  Tanks are placed underneath an alley which is immediately back of the stone foundation.

  On the site where Holmes built the castle there stood nothing but a few trees and a little cottage.

  Across the street on the opposite corner from this place stood an old frame building of stores with living rooms above them. A store on the corner was occupied as a little drug shop which was run by a man named Holton.

  _____

  On the morning of Aug. 19, 1895, at 12:30, the "Holmes Castle" was totally destroyed by fire of mysterious origin; a fitting finale to the remarkable history of this building.

  H.H. HOLMES

  His good old New Hampshire mother named the bright-eyed babe Herman E. Mudgett. He was born in the little village of Gilmanton, thirty-five years ago. Amid the prosaic surroundings of that country town he passed the early years of his life.

  If a visit were made to the Mudgett homestead, in Gilmanton, N.H., and among all the traceable connections of the family of this man nothing would be met with but pious, God-fearing people.

  His associations were pure, and under the guidance of a Christian mother, the boy bore the early stamp of piety. The little home was pervaded with the spirit of peace and reverence. He loved and respected his parents and was the pet and pride of the teachers in the humble village schools. In every respect he was a model boy, and it was with a blush of honest pride that his fond mother and father listened to the predictions made for his future. Young Mudgett was the brightest pupil in the schools. He seemed to learn intuitively and had an insatiable thirst for knowledge, which the limited capacity of the village school failed to satisfy. As the years passed slowly by in the drowsy New Hampshire village, Mudgett developed onto man's estate. He was a handsome youth and no one was surprised when the good old pastor announced the approaching nuptials of Herman Mudgett and Clara Lovering, the pretty daughter of a well-to-do citizen of Tiltin, N.Y. Mudgett was then 18 years old, and his father, Levi H. Mudgett, was the postmaster of Gilmanton Corners. Only a year before the boy had graduated from the village academy with high honors.

  Herman Mudgett was a faithful and loving husband. He taught school for a year and after clerked in A.B. Young's store at East Concord, and with the money thus earned became a student in the University of Vermont, in Burlington. The little wife encouraged the ambitions of her husband and went bravely to work as a dressmaker, not only supporting herself, but sending small sums of money to Mudgett, who was studying night and day in the University. He had an ambition to become a physician, and with all the restless vigor which has since dominated his life he worked his way forward in spite of all discouragements. A year was spent in the University of Vermont, at which time Mudgett determined to study medicine at Ann Arbor, Mich., where he was promised a chance to toil for his tuition.

  When he went away, full of determination to carve a path for himself in the world, he bore the stamp of homely clad rustic. He knew nothing of the world, except that he hoped to conquer it. He carried with him only the parting affection and the blessing of those dear old parents, who nightly, in the observance of family prayers, invoked the protection of providence for him, when he had gone. He left behind the sweet piety of the home of his birth and boyhood. After the lapse of an interval, which seemed like an age to a longing wife, the good young man of the New Hampshire village returned to it. He was no longer a homely clad rustic. He had been transformed. A marked feature of his attire was a silk hat of fashionable shape, and his apparel bore a stamp of quality that the New Hampshire hills were not familiar
with. Fortune seemed to cast an eye of favor on the upright youth, and the village was proud to own him.

  After spending two months as a vacation, Mudgett returned to Ann Arbor and resumed his study of medicine. He was thrown among young men who, like him, were starting in life, but who, unlike him, had the money with which to meet every demand.

  There are stories told in Ann Arbor of how young Mudgett and a companion despoiled a neighboring graveyard of corpses which they used for purposes of dissection. Such crimes are to an extent condoned in the interest of medical science.

  It has been suggested that his first false step of a theft from a graveyard led him to swindle insurance companies by the substitution of dead bodies for the living holders of policies.

  Mudgett proposed to his chum a scheme for defrauding an insurance company. They managed to collect enough money to go to Chicago, where Mudgett's friend had his life insured for $12,500. The first premium was paid and the policy made out in favor of Mudgett. Several months later the supposed body of the friend was found in Connecticut. Holmes was then hard at work at Ann Arbor. He was notified of the discovery and identified the body as that of his friend. He had little trouble in collecting the face of the policy, and the two divided the money, Mudgett completing his course in college, and some years later meeting his friend in Chicago.

  After quitting Ann Arbor Mudgett began the practice of medicine at Moore's Fork, Pa. His wife was with him for a while. The patient little woman who had borne him a son was sent back to the old home in New Hampshire, Mudgett assuring her that it was best for him to go to Chicago, where honor and fame awaited him. She was satisfied with his promise that he would return and take her to Chicago just as soon as he had saved enough money to start housekeeping. She took the little boy and went back to the New Hampshire hills. Mudgett kissed her good-by.

 

‹ Prev