Today’s Priestly Yet Truly Morbid Fact!
On Friday afternoon, September 5, 1913, across the Hudson River from Morningside Heights in Manhattan, three children from Cliffside Park, New Jersey, were swimming off a dock. Eleven-year-old Mary Bann noticed what appeared to be a brown-colored bundle bobbing in the water between the pilings. Curiosity got the better of her, and with help from her little brother and her girlfriend, she managed to drag the waterlogged parcel onto shore. Upon closer inspection they saw that the bundle was secured with baling wire, and under the sodden brown paper was a blue bedsheet. To find out what was inside, they pulled the wire off. Mary grabbed one end of the linen and tugged to release the contents. To their shock, the upper half of a female torso, naked, gray, and pasty, and without arms, legs, or head tumbled out of a pillowcase along with some rocks and waterlogged pages of newspaper. The children stood motionless for a moment before running off screaming for help.
The Hudson County Police responded to the scene. As the officers examined the grisly remains, they traded theories on what might have happened to the woman. It was true that swimmers occasionally got decapitated by the gigantic propellers of ocean liners, but they never washed ashore trussed in bedsheets. No, it was evident that this woman’s body had been skillfully cut in half and dumped into the river. The rocks had been meant to keep her submerged.
Why she was killed they had no idea. Who she was, given her condition, would be hard to determine. But there were clues. The newspaper was legible enough for the police to make out the date, August 31. Then there was the bloodstained linen and pillowcase that still had the manufacturer’s label attached: “Robinson-Broder Company, Newark, New Jersey.” Unfortunately, they assumed, the company sold thousands of pillowcases each year.
Two days later and two miles south of where the woman’s torso had washed up, two fishermen, Joseph Hagmann and Michael Parkman, rowed out into the Hudson River to retrieve the crab traps that they had set along the piers the day before. It was a good morning for crabbing and, as it turned out, for finding human body parts.
The coroner determined that the lower portion of the torso the fishermen discovered and the upper section the children recovered came from the same woman. In fact the two body parts fit together so perfectly that the medical examiner declared it one of the neatest pieces of surgical work he had seen in years. A leg belonging to the same body and a nightgown with pronounced bloodstains around the collar were found in the river on September 10. By then the Hudson County Police had been in contact with a representative from Robinson-Broder and were informed that twelve pillowcases similar to the one recovered had been sold to a retailer in New York. Since it was possible that the victim had been killed in New York and dumped into the Hudson River, New Jersey authorities alerted the NYPD.
Inspector Joseph Faurot, chief of detectives for Manhattan, took charge of the case. Faurot had joined the department in 1896 and made a name for himself early on as a proponent in the use of fingerprints as a form of identification. In this instance, however, his area of expertise would be of little value, as neither hand had been recovered.
Fortunately Faurot was also a skilled investigator. He directed two of his detectives to pay a visit to George Sachs, the furniture store owner who bought linen from the Robinson-Broder Company. Mr. Sachs recalled having sold a pair of pillowcases two weeks before, along with a secondhand mattress and bedspring, to a Mr. A. Van Dyke. They were delivered to 68 Bradhurst Avenue in Harlem. [No, the building doesn’t exist anymore, alas… – DeSpair] The detectives hurried to the address and talked to the superintendent of the building, Carlton Booker. Mr. Booker told them a married couple rented the vacant third-floor apartment on August 26 and that the husband paid for it in cash, nineteen dollars. The new tenant called himself H. Schmidt. The detectives knocked on the door, but there was no answer.
When informed of the development, Faurot ordered a stakeout of the apartment, but after three days of inactivity, he decided to wait no longer. Accompanied by an officer from Hudson County, his men climbed the backyard fire escape and pried open the rear window. They let Faurot in through the front door. The apartment was vacant, but there were bloodstains everywhere—on a knife, a saw, the area rug, the wood floor, the bathroom tile, and the iron bed frame. There was also evidence that the killer had tried to mop up the blood.
Although the mattress was missing, the receipt for delivery was on top of the icebox. Detectives found a half spool of baling wire, the same kind used to tie up the floating bundles. Among the clothes still hanging in the closet was a man’s overcoat that had the name A. Van Dyke stitched into the lining. But the most important lead came when detectives recovered a metal box atop a small chest in the close. Inside were dozens of letters handwritten in German from Anna Aumuller to Hans Schmidt at St. Boniface Church.
After speaking to people in the New York area that some of the letters were addressed to, detectives learned that Anna had immigrated to the United States from Germany five years ago, when she was sixteen, to pursue a career in music. When that did not pan out, she took a job as a domestic at the rectory of St. Boniface Church on East Forty-Seventh Street and Second Avenue in Manhattan. Those who knew her well described her as popular and pretty, a girl who had little trouble attracting young men.
Faurot paid a visit to St. Boniface and found out that Anna was no longer employed by the parish. Father John Braun told him that she was particularly fond of a German-born priest who had transferred to St. Joseph’s on West 125th Street little over a year ago. Although the monsignor did not think much of the priest, Anna followed him there. Braun identified the cleric as Father Hans Schmidt.
Although it was well past midnight, Inspector Faurot and Detective Frank Cassassa raced to St. Joseph’s to have a talk with Father Schmidt. When they arrived it took several minutes of banging on the rectory door before Father Daniel Quinn answered. Faurot flashed his inspector’s shield and explained that he was there on a serious police matter that involved Father Schmidt. Father Quinn rushed upstairs to wake him.
A few minutes later Schmidt appeared in Father Quinn’s office wearing his cassock and collar. He was a handsome man, thirty-two years old. Faurot showed him a photograph of Anna Aumuller. For the next thirty minutes the priest denied that he knew her, but Faurot knew otherwise. He waited for just the right moment and then accused Schmidt of killing her, even though his evidence was entirely circumstantial.
To his surprise, Schmidt broke down and began to sob. “I killed her because I loved her.” Before asking for a lawyer, he admitted that he married her (after having performed the ceremony himself in February 1913) and that he was torn between his love for her and his love of the priesthood. In the end he decided that he could not be married and decided to end the unholy union by slashing Anna’s throat after being commanded by God’s voice. Then he dismembered her and disposed of her body parts in the Hudson River.
Priest Schmiest.
Catholics throughout the diocese took up a collection to pay for Father Schmidt’s defense. They looked upon him as a sinner more than a murderer, and therefore worthy of their pity. But as more facts came to light, they began to regret their decision.
Further investigation revealed that he stole money from the church poor box, impersonated a doctor, and ran a counterfeiting operation from an apartment he rented on St. Nicholas Avenue. The police arrested Schmidt’s partner in the money scheme, a dentist named Ernest Muret, who ended up doing time in a federal penitentiary. There was even speculation that in 1909, shortly after his first posting in the United States, Schmidt had murdered a nine-year-old girl in Louisville, Kentucky, although in that case the parish janitor was convicted.
After speaking to Schmidt, his lawyers became convinced that an insanity plea was the only way to save him from the electric chair. Both the defense and the prosecution hired their own teams of alienists to examine Schmidt at length. Each side agreed that the priest was mentally unbalanced, as did a number of witnesses who told tales of his bloodlust. But in New York State, to prove insanity, a killer must not know that what he was doing was wrong at the time of commission. The prosecutor argued that Schmidt, despite his admissions about his past conduct, must have known what he did was wrong, or he would not have taken such drastic measures to dispose of Anna’s body and conceal his identity. The prosecutor even pointed out that Father Schmidt said Mass the morning after the murder so as not to arouse suspicion.
The first trial in December 1913 resulted in a hung jury: ten in favor of guilt, two who held out, believing he was insane. The second trial took place just a month later, and the testimony was almost identical in nature, except for the introduction of a surprise witness by the prosecution, Miss Bertha Zech. She testified that she met Father Schmidt through the dentist a year ago, and that she accompanied him when he bought a $5,000 life insurance policy for Anna Aumuller, in which he was the sole beneficiary. Anna never knew about it, because Bertha forged her signature.
The doomed Anna Aumuller
This time the jury took only seven hours to reach a guilty verdict. Father Schmidt was remanded to Sing Sing prison to await execution by the electric chair. While there, Schmidt tried to change his story. On appeal he said that he was not insane, but that Anna had died during a botched abortion. He claimed he covered it up only because he was a priest who should not have been involved with a woman in the first place. He insisted that he had not killed his wife and provided the name of the doctor whom he alleged performed the operation.
Although the doctor denied it, Schmidt’s lawyer arranged to have Anna’s body exhumed. The second postmortem indicated that Schmidt might have been telling the truth. There were indications that Anna had been pregnant, but the court ruled against him, because his statements alone did not constitute new evidence. Schmidt’s last hope for a reprieve was dashed when the Manhattan district attorney who oversaw his case, Charles Witman, was elected governor.
As he was being strapped into the electric chair shortly before dawn on February 18, 1916, Father Schmidt begged forgiveness and forgave all who offended him. He was reciting the Lord’s Prayer as the state executioner turned the dial that sent 1,700 volts of electricity pulsating through his body. After the coroner confirmed Schmidt was dead, the chaplain at Sing Sing claimed his body. The burial plot of Father Schmidt, the only Catholic priest to be executed in the United States, remains a secret to this day.
Culled from: Undisclosed Files of the Police
Wretched Recommendations!
In the Kingdom of Ice: The Grand and Terrible Polar Voyage of the USS Jeannette by Hampton Sides
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
In 1879, a group of explorers led by American George W. DeLong set off from San Francisco amid much fanfare and salutes on their way to explore the North Pole. They had been misled by misinformation that was commonly believed at the time: that there was a warm current of water that rushed northward to provide a track to the open sea just beyond the ice. If they could just make it through that outer crust of ice, they could sail to the North Pole!
Sadly, just after they left on their journey, scientists disproved the notion of a warm waterway heading north, so they left the world behind on a fool’s errand. The world wouldn’t learn of their fate for several years as the ship became locked in ice and a brutal escape across the “kingdom of ice” was attempted.
I came into reading this book not knowing how the story would turn out, and that made it so much more suspenseful, so I highly suggest that you avoid reading spoilers and just pick up this book and experience the drama. Once I got past the inevitable slow start (where we meet the key characters), and got to the actual voyage, I couldn’t put the book down. It’s truly amazing what humans can accomplish when they have no other choice.
Andersonville Prisoner Diary Entry Du Jour!
This is the continuation of the 1864 diary of Andersonville prisoner Private George A. Hitchcock (see the archived version for all entries up until now).
Here’s today’s entry:
October 11th. Mild. Spent a more comfortable night. The sick at the sheds get hard tack. Three hundred prisoners from Sherman came in, captured between Atlanta and Marietta.
Culled from: Andersonville: Giving Up the Ghost