Ghost tour season is back in Irvington. The magic of Irvington’s haunted history is fueled by the eerie collision of nefarious people, places and deeds and the folklore that remains. Eleven months a year, the story of Irvington centers around the vibrant art, literary and musical culture that has been its trademark for nearly a century-and-a-half. But in October, Irvington is known for its connection to all things that go bump in the night. One of the most celebrated transient evil-doers was a man named Herman Webster Mudgett, a.k.a. H.H. Holmes: America’s first serial killer. In this, part one of a 3-part series, we will revisit Holmes’ murderous trek and the curse that supposedly followed him after his execution by hanging on May 7, 1896.
The hero of the Holmes saga was a Pinkerton detective agency operative named Frank P. Geyer. It was Geyer who doggedly tracked Holmes around the Midwest in search of three unfortunate children of the arch-fiend’s business partner, Benjamin Pitezel. Holmes came to Indianapolis with Nellie, Alice and Howard Pitezel in tow. Although Alice and Nellie would leave our fair city, 10-year-old Howard would meet his end on the far eastern edge of Irvington in October of 1894. Two years later, Geyer would detail his pursuit in his best selling book “The Holmes – Pitezel case. A history of the greatest crime of the century and the search for the missing Pitezel children.” Here is Geyer’s recollection of his time in Irvington as explained in that rare volume.
“Sunday morning June 30th 1895, bright and early, I called police headquarters, where I met superintendent (George W.) Powell, who introduced me to Detective David Richards and informed me that he had assigned him to assist me in my investigation in Indianapolis. Richards and I retired to a private room and after explaining the case to him we left headquarters to continue the search for the missing children. I suggested to Richards that we first make inquiry among the hotels near the Union Depot and in going to the Stubbins house (hotel) and examining the register we found that on September 24, 1894 was an entry in the name of Etta Pitezel St. Louis Missouri, and that the hotel records showed she left on the morning of September 28th.
“Every hotel and lodging house in Indianapolis was searched, but no record could be found where the children had stopped. Finally it dawned upon Richards, that in September 1894, there had been on Meridian Street within 50 feet of the circle, a small hotel known as the Circle House. The hotel had been closed for a long time, but we determined to find the proprietor, a Mr Herman Ackelow. I suggested that we go to West Indianapolis and have an interview with Mr Herman Ackelow, the former proprietor of the Circle House, to see if he could throw any light upon the whereabouts of the children. Ackelow remembered that Holmes said that Howard was a very bad boy and that he was trying to place him in some institution, or bind him out to some farmer, as he wanted to get rid of the responsibility of looking after him. I came to the conclusion at once that he had murdered him, but where, up to this time, I was unable to determine.
“Where was the boy Howard? Had he been placed in some institution, as Holmes had intimated his intention of doing, or was he hidden in some obscure place beyond reach or discovery? Was he alive or dead? I was puzzled, nonplussed, and groping in the dark. I cannot turn back, – I was directed to go on, and I determined to do so, hoping that patience and persistent hard work might finally lead me to the light. (Geyer returned to the Chicago office empty-handed, only to return a month later and continue the search.)
“I left Detroit on the afternoon of July 23 (1895), and arrived in Indianapolis the next morning. Detective Richards was again detailed to assist me. We procured a directory of the city and made a list of every real estate agent in Indianapolis and commenced to interview every one of them with the hope of finding a house that had been rented early in October 1894, to a man who wanted it for a widowed sister, and who occupied it but a short time. Holmes had given this widowed sister story in Cincinnati, Detroit, and Toronto, and I believed he had told the same falsehood in Indianapolis. Our search continued in this manner for days, yet I learned nothing which gave me the least assistance in obtaining the clue for which I was so anxiously seeking. The number of mysterious persons who had rented houses in and about Indianapolis multiplied from day-to-day, and Detective Richards and I were not permitted to rest a moment. Days came and passed, but I continue to be as much in the dark as ever, and it began to look as though the bold but clever criminal had outwitted the detectives, professional and amateur, and that the disappearance of Howard Pitezel would pass into history as an unsolved mystery.
“The desire on the part of the police authorities of Indianapolis to assist me in the search, never wavered. No less than 900 supposed clues were run out. We then commenced a search of the small towns just beyond the city of Indianapolis, and finally finished the work in all, except Irvington. After Irvington, I scarcely know where we shall go.
“On Tuesday morning August 27th (1895), we took the trolley line for Irvington, a most beautiful town, about 6 miles from Indianapolis. As there are no hotels in the town, we decided to look up the real estate agents. A short distance from where the (street) car stops, I noticed a sign of a real estate office, and in we went. Opening up a package of papers and photographs which I have carried, and which I had untied and tied over 1000 times, until it had become soiled and ragged from wear, I asked a pleasant faced old gentleman who greeted us as we entered the office, if he knew of the house in his town, which had been rented for a short time in October 1894, by a man who said he wanted it for a widowed sister. I then handed him a photograph of H.H. Holmes. The old gentleman who proved to be Mr. Brown quietly listened, and then adjusting his glasses took a long look at the photograph.
“Yes, said he, I remember a man who rented a house under such circumstances in October 1894, and this picture looks like him very much. I did not have the renting of the house, but I have the keys, and one day last fall, this man came into my office and in a very abrupt way said, I want the keys for that house. I remember the man very well, because I did not like his manner, and I felt that he should have had more respect for my gray hairs. While the good old man was talking… I stood still. When he had finished… (I) sat down. We had found the clue at last. All the toil; all the weary days and weeks of travel, – toil and travel in the hottest months of the year, alternating between faith and hope, and discouragement and despair, all were recompensed in that one moment, when I saw the veil about to lift and realized that we were soon to learn where the poor little boy had gone with Holmes, when he came.
“On our arrival at the house, I found it to be a 1 1/2 story cottage, standing some little distance from Union Avenue, in the extreme eastern part of the town. Across the street is a Methodist Church and 200 yards to the south are the Pennsylvania railroad tracks. The house stands in a secluded place, and there are no other houses in the immediate neighborhood. To the west is a small grove of young catalpa trees and to the east is a large common. There are two roads leading to the streetcars which run into Indianapolis.
“On entering the house, we search the cellar first. I found it divided into two apartments, – the rear having a cement floor and evidently intended for a washroom and the front having a clay floor, but as hard as flint. It was quite evident that there had been no disturbance of the floor in the cellar, and so we decided to make a search on the outside. To the right wing of the house is attached a small piazza, with open latticework under the floor. In looking through this latticework, I discovered the broken remains of a trunk… We then turned our attention to the barn and other out houses. In the barn I found a large coal stove, called the Peninsular Oak. On the top I found what appeared to be bloodstains. We then examined the floor of the barn and the grounds about the house, and wherever we discovered a soft spot in the earth, we dug deeply to see if a body was buried there.
“I learned that the house had been rented to a man who wanted it for his widowed sister, who intended to open a boarding house. He paid one months rent in advance, and was never seen again…(I also found) a little spinning top and a tin man, which Mrs. Pitezel had bought for Howard at the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair. A little scarf pin and a pair of shoes were also identified as Howard’s. These had all been found in the Irvington house. When I produced the photograph of H. H. Holmes, it was promptly identified as that of the man who had rented the house. (Holmes was traveling through the Irvington area under the name of Doctor A. E. Cook). By this time, several hundred people had gathered about the house, seriously interfering with (our) operations, but all expressing great sympathy with us in our work, and as it was almost evening when I decided to defer a further search until the following day.
“Doctor Thompson, the former owner of the house, and his partner Doctor Barnhill continued the search after our departure. They were accompanied by two boys, Walter Jenny and Oscar Kettenbach. One of the boys suggested that they should play detective and they went together into the part of the cellar having a cement floor, and in which there was a chimney which extended above the roof of the house. In the chimney was a pipe hole about three feet, six inches from the floor. Young Jenny put his arm in the opening and pulled out a handful of ashes, among which was one of the pieces of bone, which Doctor Barnhill brought to me. The boys continue to bring out ashes and pieces of bone and then ran and called the doctors, who soon determined the character of the discovery.
“This information induced me to return to the house that evening, and upon our arrival, we found the entire neighborhood assembled there. The doctors and several members of the press were admitted, and we proceeded to the cellar, and with hammer and chisel I took down the lower part of the chimney. I then took an old fly screen which I found in the house, and used it as a sieve, and as the ashes were taken from the chimney, I passed them through the screen and found an almost complete set of teeth and a piece of the jaw… At the bottom of the chimney was found quite a large charred mass, which upon being cut, disclosed a portion of the stomach, liver and spleen, baked quite hard. The pelvis of the body was also found.
“We found a boy’s coat in possession of the grocer in Irvington. The grocer said that early in October 1894 a man called his store and let the coat with him, saying that a boy would call for the next morning, but the boy never came. Thoroughly convinced that we found all that remained of little Howard Pitezel, we returned to Indianapolis and at once repaired to the City Hall. That night I enjoyed the best nights sleep I have had in two months. I was sure that my work was complete, and as I fell into an easy slumber, I thought that after all, the business of searching for the truth was not the meanest occupation of man. It is the manner in which it is searched for that sometimes makes it ignoble.”
The search for Howard was complete, but the curse of H.H. Holmes was just beginning.
Next week: Part II- The Curse of H.H. Holmes.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest book is “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
