The Beilstein Family Curse

 

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If ever there was a Pennsylvania household cruelly cursed by fate, it was the Beilstein family of Pittsburgh-- a once-prosperous family whose strange and legendary downfall was said by some to be the result of incest, mental illness, and dabbling with the supernatural. 

The Beilstein family rose to prominence in the 19th century. John F. Beilstein, a long-time resident of Allegheny City (which became part of Pittsburgh in 1907), was a butcher by trade, but he climbed the city's social ladder by holding positions in city council and taking an active interest in civic affairs. He was a popular citizen, especially among his fellow German immigrants, and, in addition to serving as president of the Butcher's Association, he was also a high-ranking Freemason. Although John F. Beilstein was a self-made man, his fraternal and political connections allowed him to grow his personal fortune to a considerable size.

Therefore, it was a newsworthy even when 63-year-old John Beilstein died suddenly at his Spring Garden Avenue home on December 19, 1897. On that particular morning, John woke up early to meet his wife, Maria and their youngest daughter, Bertha,  at the train station. They had just returned from Chicago, where they had attended the funeral of Maria's brother, Christian Beilstein. Upon returning home, John and Maria sat down to the breakfast table with their children, and when breakfast was over, everyone stood up except for John. The Beilsteins were astonished to discover that the head of the household was upright in his chair, but unconscious. As it turned out, John had suffered a stroke.

It was 1858 when John F. Beilstein, then a young man of 25, married Maria Margaretha Beilstein, who also happened to be his first cousin. To John and Mary were born twelve children-- five of whom died at an early age. At the time of John Beilstein's fatal stroke in 1897, seven of their children lived in the Pittsburgh area. These included three sons-- Charles, Edward and Frederick-- and four daughters: Sophia, Emma, Mary and Bertha.  Bertha, who was the youngest child, was 20 years of age when her father passed away. Little did she know at the time, however, that she would soon become the center of this wheel of tragedy.

Tall, thin and blonde, Bertha Beilstein was regarded as the belle of East Allegheny. She was known as a fun-loving girl with a bubbly personality, and an endless supply of friends and admirers who knew her simply by her childhood nickname, Birdie. But the shock of her father's death completely altered Bertha's disposition. She became sullen and melancholy. She no longer laughed, no longer danced, no longer smiled. 

In 1898, Reverend J.J. Brubeck, pastor of the Grace Evangelical Lutheran Church, occupied an apartment on the first floor of the Beilstein house with his family, while Bertha Beilstein and her widowed mother lived on the second floor in adjoining rooms. In the early hours of Sunday, October 2, Reverend Brubeck was awakened by a loud muffled noise. He rose from his bed and opened the window, but saw nothing outside in the pre-dawn darkness. He went back to sleep. About thirty minutes later, at around 4:30 in the morning, he was awakened again by what sounded like muffled gunshots. He looked out the window again, but saw nothing.

At 7:30 in the morning, the reverend was awakened by the ringing of the doorbell. It was the milkman, making his morning rounds. Reverend Brubeck brought in the milk and then went upstairs to wake up Mrs. Beilstein and Bertha. He knocked on their door, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder, and a moment later Bertha, clad in her nightgown, opened the door. The reverend asked if her mother was awake, and Bertha said that she was still sleeping and that she would be down in a little while. Reverend Brubeck went back to his apartment, thinking nothing more of the matter.

 

Edward Beilstein, who had taken over his father's stand at the Allegheny Market House, arrived two hours later with the day's supply of meat. When the reverend told him that his mother and sister were still upstairs, he grew concerned, as it wasn't normal for them to sleep in so late, especially on a Sunday morning. Edward went upstairs to investigate, and made a horrifying discovery. His mother's body was sprawled across the bed, partially covered by a blood-soaked blanket. There were also splatters of blood on the walls. Edward ran into the adjoining bedroom and found his sister in bed, with a peaceful smile on her bloody, once-beautiful face. A revolver was still clutched in her hand. She was unconscious, and at first Edward feared that she, too, was dead.

Three physicians were summoned. Dr. Walter Ure, Dr. Martin Stehley and Dr. F.G. Burg soon arrived at the Beilstein home. An examination revealed that Mrs. Beil stein had been shot three times with a .38 caliber revolver. One shot had entered at the right side of her nose, taking a downward course through the neck. The three doctors agreed that death must've been instantaneous. A second bullet had entered the right breast, and the third had passed through her groin.

As for Bertha, she had been shot through the right temple, with the bullet exiting through the top of her skull. Another shot had been fired through her left breast. Two smaller bullets from a .22-caliber revolver were recovered from her abdomen. Astonishingly, Bertha was still alive, and she had regained consciousness by the time Detectives James Steel and Thomas O'Brien arrived. They were soon joined by Lieutenant Adam Neumar and Coroner McDowell. The coroner attempted to get a statement from Bertha, but she refused to answer questions. In one her moments of consciousness, she confessed her crime to her brother Edward.

"I was tired of life," she said. "It held no pleasure for me. I wanted to die and did not want my mother to live and fret over my death. For that reason, I killed her."

The condition of Bertha's room revealed just how troubled the young woman was. She had laid out her best gown, with a note requesting that she be buried in it. A dagger had been stuck into the floor at the foot of her bed; none of the Beilsteins had ever seen it before. Atop her dresser was an empty four-ounce bottle of laudanum, bearing a label from May's Pharmacy. But the most disturbing find was made by Detective O'Brien. On the dresser, next to the bottle of laudanum, was a bullet covered in hair and caked with blood. It was the same bullet which had passed through Maria Beilstein's skull.

The following day, three thousand mourners passed through the Beilstein home, paying their final respects to Maria. The family home became a morbid landmark; even streetcar conductors pointed it out as they passed, while curious passengers eagerly craned their necks for a glimpse.

The Disappearance of Uncle Davey

On the day after the murder, David Reis, known as "Uncle Davey" to the Beilsteins, disappeared. Rice was an elderly distant relative who had lived at the Beilstein home for several years. Rice had been particularly close to John F. Beilstein, and before John died he had made a provision in his will leaving Rice a house of his own. As he left his home at five o'clock on Sunday evening, he had remarked to a neighbor that all his friends had been taken from him. "And I guess there's nothing left but for me to go, too," he added before tottering his way up Spring Garden Hill. When he failed to return home that night, a search party was organized by the three Beilstein brothers. Thinking the old man might've jumped in the river, the banks were searched for miles. A few days later, Reis was located on a set of railroad tracks. Evidently he had lain down in front of a train.

A Command to Kill

While the Beilstein brothers were searching for Uncle Davey, a strange story came to light about Bertha and Maria Beilsteins recent trip to Chicago. While in Chicago, Bertha and her mother had attended a meeting of Spritualists, and Bertha was greatly impressed by the possibility of communicating with spirits of the dead. After her father's death, she immersed herself in Spiritualism and began visiting mediums and attending seances. During one seance, in which she attempted to speak to the spirit her late father, the medium told her that her father wanted his wife and daughter with him. She had interpreted this message as a command to kill.

Although little hope was held for Bertha's recovery from her four self-inflicted gunshot wounds (not to mention the laudanum she had swallowed), she not only continued to cling to life, but began to make a slow recovery. On November 3, one month after the tragedy, she began eating solid food. Dr. Walter Ure, however, still maintained that Bertha would be dead in a matter of weeks. But as she began to recover, talk turned to criminal prosecution; after discussing the case with District Attorney John Haymaker, Superintendent Henry Muth of the Allegheny Police Bureau, told reporters that he would ask a judge to have Bertha examined by a jail physician in order to determine if she was healthy enough to be moved from her Spring Garden Avenue home to a jail cell. Dr. Ure strongly advised against this, claiming that any attempt to remove her from her home would result in instant death.

Tragedy Strikes Again

The notoriety attached to the family name was a terrible burden for the Beilstein brothers, particularly Edward, the son who had assumed management of his father's butchering business. As a matter of business, Edward left his home at 227 Spring Garden Avenue every Sunday at midnight to go to Herr's Island, which, at the time, was the site of a large stockyard. This was one of the secrets his father had taught him; being first in line allowed him to purchase the best cattle for butchering. But when the Monday morning of November 14 passed without Edward's return, his wife, Margaret, grew concerned.

Margaret notified one of her husband's employees, Adolph Mann, who saddled up his horse and went out searching from the 33-year-old butcher. According to Mann, Edward had been in the best of spirits when he had last seen him, and Margaret recalled that her husband had laughed and joked at the dinner table the previous evening while the Beilsteins entertained friends and family. Their company left at around ten o'clock, and the Beilsteins went to bed shortly afterwards. Edward set his alarm for twelve o'clock, then kissed his wife goodnight. 

Edward usually returned from Herr's Island by five o'clock, but when Margaret woke up and discovered that he hadn't returned, a terrible thought crossed her mind: Ever since his Maria Beilstein's murder forty-three days earlier, Edward had made a daily habit of visiting his mother's grave at Voegtly Cemetery on Lowrie Street, which Edward passed on his way to Herr's Island. Something told Margaret that her husband would be there, and she relayed this hunch to Adolph Mann.

Mann rode to the cemetery and asked the superintendent, Charles Boehring, if he had seen Edward. they made a search of the grounds and found the body of Edward Beilstein sprawled across his mother's grave, the arms and legs drawn up tightly, his face and fingers contorted in agony. An empty glass bottle was found next to the body, indicating that Edward had swallowed poison. Edward's younger brother, Frederick, soon arrived at the cemetery and found papers scattered near the body. One was a suicide note, in which Edward had written: 

Break the news very gently to my dear wife, as I am afraid she cannot stand the shock. Tell some of the family before you tell her. Telephone to Willison to send a carriage to take me home. Do not make any more fuss about this than you can."[Author's note: This is a reference to Isaac Willison, who owned an undertaking parlor at the corner of Avery and Cedar Avenues.]

 

Coroner McDowell held an inquest at eleven o'clock that morning. Frederick's testimony revealed that Edward had attempted suicide on the day of his mother's death but had failed. He also stated that he had also feared Edward would attempt to murder Bertha out of revenge. Dr. McCandless, who performed the post-mortem examination, reported that Edward had swallowed a "strong irritant poison" such as lye or carbolic acid.

As Edward had expected, the news of his death dealt a terrible blow to his wife, who collapsed upon hearing the news. Dr. Gustave Berg was summoned, and found Margaret Beilstein in such a precarious condition that two other doctors rushed to Spring Garden Avenue to offer their assistance and announced that her death was imminent. Fortunately, she managed to make a recovery and went on to live a long life, though the shock left her with a weak heart; she was afflicted with chronic myocarditis the rest of her life.

 The Trial of Bertha Beilstein

On February 20, 1899, in accordance with the district attorney's instructions, Bertha Beilstein was arrested by Detective Robinson and taken to the Allegheny County jail. At first, she seemed resigned to her fate, but after a few days it was noted by the prison physician, Dr. Chessrown, that Bertha could only sleep if given strong doses of opiates. The drugs put her into a trance-like state, during which she would cry out for her mother until morning. 

The trial of Bertha Beilstein opened on May 8, with Judge Robert S. Frazer presiding. Represented by defense attorneys Clarence Burleigh and George Elphinstone, who were expected to use an insanity defense, Bertha pleaded not guilty to the charge of murder. The first day of testimony on May 9 revealed several jaw-dropping details into the secret lives of the Beilstein family. Marie Beilstein, a cousin from Youngstown, Ohio, who was staying in Pittsburgh at the time of the shooting, had gone to the scene of the crime after receiving word of the tragedy. She found Bertha drifting in and out of consciousness, and asked Bertha if there had been "trouble" during the Beilsteins recent trip to Chicago. Marie testified that Bertha and her first cousin, Will, were on very close terms-- much to Mrs. Beilstein's displeasure. 

"Did you speak of her cousin Will in Chicago?" asked District Attorney Haymaker on cross-examination.

"Yes," replied Marie. "I asked her if she was married to him because I knew she thought a great deal of him. She said she was not." The defense objected to this line of questioning, but the objection was overruled. The prosecution once again asked Marie to describe Bertha and Will's relationship.
"I asked her if she had any trouble in Chicago. She said, 'I may just as well tell you.' I said, 'Did you?' and she said yes. I asked her if that was why shot her mother. She said 'I don't know'. Then she dozed off again." After managing to rouse Bertha into consciousness, Bertha made a cryptic remark: "Will got the best of me."

 

A sister-in-law also testified to the romance between Will and Bertha, claiming that Bertha had contemplated suicide while in Chicago over her mother's displeasure over the courtship-- which is strange, considering that Bertha's parents were also first cousins. This was an important revelation, as it now raised the possibility of a motive for murder. Things began to look even more grim for the defense during the afternoon session, when Rev. Brubeck testified that Bertha had admitted to him that she had been contemplating killing her mother.

Giant Razors and Children on the Curtains

The following day, May 10, was also filled astonishing revelations as Bertha took the stand in her own defense. She claimed that spirits had instructed her to murder her mother and take her own life because a psychic medium in Chicago had led her believe that her father was unhappy on "the other side". According to Bertha, the Beilsteins first became enamored with Spiritualism during a visit to the 1893 World's Fair in Chicago. "We visited a medium there and had manifestations," explained Bertha. Her attorney then asked if she continued to visit mediums after their return.

"Miss Rubel, a medium, came to the house and we had frequent manifestations at home," she admitted. "This medium talked to mother a great deal... She was a firm believer. I am also a firm believer in Spiritualism, and still believe that people in this world can communicate with those in the other world." She continued:

"She told me about my father accumulating money and she said Edward would not succeed in business, as he had not the qualities, but she said Frederick would succeed. She then asked me if I could see my father, as he was standing by my side. I told her I could not see him. I was surprised when she said he was standing beside me, was very lonely in the other world, and if he had me and my mother there he would be happy. Of course, the thought did not enter my mind then that I ought to destroy my mother and kill myself, but it worked upon me gradually."

 

Bertha said that she had also visited a male medium named Mr. Joseph a week later, and that he had given her virtually the same message. And then the line of questioning turned to her alleged romance with her cousin, Will Beilstein, with whom she had corresponded by exchanging letters written in "invisible ink". Bertha had told the court how they had used milk to write secret messages; by rubbing a burnt cork or other ashes over the paper, the messages would be revealed.

Here, the defense made an astonishing announcement. Immediately after the discovery of the shooting, while the three physicians examined Bertha's wounds, they also examined to see whether or not she was still a virgin, presumably at the request of her family in order to satisfy their curiosity about whether or not she and Cousin Will had engaged in sexual activity during any of the Beilstein's trips to Chicago. All three doctors proclaimed that Bertha was still "pure" and "innocent". The announcement of this rather strange examination put the rumors about Bertha and Will to rest.

The three attending physicians were called to testify, and they discussed the types of delusions and hallucinations from which Bertha had been suffering. "She told me she saw children on the curtains," said Dr. G.F. Berg. "She also once imagined she saw a razor half as big as the room." Two experts on insanity, Dr. McKenna (formerly of the Dixmont Insane Asylum), and Dr. Diller of the Danville State Hospital, both expressed their opinion that Bertha Beilstein was insane before, during, and after the stooting, and Dr. McKenna added that Bertha may have had a predisposition toward insanity because of the fact that her parents were cousins.

 

Confinement and Escape

On May 13, 1899, Bertha Beilstein was acquitted by the jury and ordered to Dixmont Insane Asylum. According to witnesses, Bertha seemed as happy with her new destination as a tourist visiting an exotic land. She smiled when she was met at the front door by the superintendent, Dr. Henry Hutchinson. "No one can help having a delightful time with such delightful surroundings," she said, waving her hands in the direction of the well-tended lawns and flower beds. She was especially enamored with the view from the hilltop institution. "Oh, there goes a steamboat on the river!" she said with child-like delight. "Isn't that nice? Why, you can just see everything here. I know I shall like it."

Though Dr. Hutchinson greetly his new arrival warmly, he later told reporters that, in his opinion, Miss Beilstein was not only a lunatic, but a "moral degenerate" to boot. However, it took a while for Bertha's happiness to wear off-- seven years, to be precise. On September 23, 1906, Bertha escaped from the asylum by obtaining a key and opening a door leading to the fire escape. Though there was an official probe to determine how Bertha had gotten the key, no potential accomplices were ever identified, though it was revealed that Bertha had climbed into a waiting automobile driven by two men.

Naturally, many believed that Bertha had fled Dixmont to rekindle her relationship with her cousin Will. Others insisted that her escape had been planned by family members, though this has never been proven. However, witnesses reported seeing a woman dressed in brown, with her face covered by a veil, standing over the grave of Bertha's mother the day after her escape. Many believe that this mysterious cemetery visitor was indeed Bertha Beilstein.

Bertha Beilstein

 

What followed next was a wave of sightings across the country: She was supposedly living with friends in Butler County. She was reportedly living under an assumed name in East Orange, New Jersey. She was allegedly hiding out in Philadelphia and Chicago. She had boarded a ship for England. When a penniless blonde woman with a German accent gave birth at a Cleveland hospital in January, 1907, it was reported that it was Bertha Beilstein (it wasn't, as Bertha was born in Pennsylvania and had no German accent).

 On May 21, a woman who had given her name as Olga Miller died in agony at a hospital in Los Angeles, where she had been taken after staying with a friend named Richard Hardin at the Royal Hotel. Believing that she may have been poisoned by Hardin, Detectives Murray and Moore made an investigation and learned that Olga had recently attempted suicide on two different occasions. The autopsy cleared Hardin of any wrongdoing, but determined that Olga had died from an abscess on the brain, resulting from an undiagnosed brain tumor. The body was buried on May 24.

However, the undertaker who prepared the body noticed something peculiar. Olga Miller had scars resembling bullet wounds, which corresponded with Bertha Beilstein's self-inflicted injuries. Meanwhile, the police investigation revealed that Olga, while in the ambulance, told Richard Hardin to telegraph a friend in Chicago to ask for money. Letters to this man, Edmund W. Wander, were also found among Olga's personal effects in her room at the Royal Hotel. Police learned that Olga had stayed in Wander's house on Burling Street, and he admitted that he, along with Bertha's brother, Frederick Beilstein, had picked her up from the Dixmont Insane Asylum. They supplied the woman with cash and started her on the road to Los Angeles with an alias-- the name of a dead childhood friend of Bertha's. Upon learning of the death of Olga Miller, Frederick contacted Los Angeles authorities and asked for the body to be shipped home to Pittsburgh.

Bertha Goes Home

Richard Hardin was taken by surprise when he was arrested by Los Angeles detectives on May 21. He had met the young woman on April 21 at the Hotel Royal, where she was working as a waitress. He was a poet from Kentucky, working on a book. Their rooms were close to each other, and they struck up a friendship. After his release from jail on May 24, he told his remarkable tale to the Los Angeles Herald.

"One night I asked her how she had been injured in the head and what caused the scar which could be plainly seen on her right temple," said Hardin. "She told me that she had been shot, but as she did not appear to wish to tell me more, I did not ask any questions." Hardin went away for a few days, and when he returned to the hotel he knocked on Olga's door and found her weak in bed. He summoned a doctor, Dr. DeWitt Lamoree, who was unable to diagnose the cause of the young woman's illness. Two days later, Dr. Lamoree told Hardin to call the county hospital and ask for an ambulance.

"I did not know why I was arrested until Friday, when I was taken before the autopsy surgeon and asked a number of questions," said Hardin. "Olga never became confidential with me, but frequently would make some statement which would cause me to look at her in astonishment... Olga frequently spoke of the terrors of a remorseful conscience and once asked me to procure morphine for her. This I refused to do.

"The story of Olga's past life astonishes me greatly. I never had the slightest suspicion that she had any such history. She was an exceptionally pretty girl and very well educated and refined. I never could understand why she worked as a waitress, but thought it was because she had no money and was compelled to do something to support herself."

Acting Chief of Police Paul Flammer found Hardin's story credible and he was released. Meanwhile, Frederick Beilstein sent a photograph of Bertha to the undertaker, A.J. Pierce, who recognized the woman as Olga Miller. Frederick went to Los Angeles to identify the body, which was shipped back to Pittsburgh, arriving on June 30-- where the State Lunacy Commission was waiting. As Bertha had escaped from her court-ordered confinement at Dixmont, she was still technically considered a ward of the state. Only after the lunacy commission established identity of the corpse would it be turned over to family. 

This legal identification took place on July 2 at the undertaking establishment of Joseph Voltz on South Highland Avenue, and was made by Drs. Ure and Berg, along with a handful of relatives.  "There is not a shadow of a doubt," said Dr. Ure. "There could not be two women in millions bearing such scars as were on the body of Bertha Beilstein, and these we found this morning. Every one of the six scars are there, exactly as I remember the wounds which I dressed after they were inflicted." 

After her body was cremated, the ashes of Bertha Beilstein were consigned to a grave at Voegtly's Cemetery on the afternoon of July 10, 1907.

The Last Deadly Spin of Fate's Wheel

Only a handful of family members were present when Bertha's ashes were buried. These included her sisters, Emma and Sophia, and her 46-year-old brother Charles, who operated a butcher shop on Columbia Avenue in nearby Vandergrift. Tragically, Charles Beilstein would not live to Christmas.  On December 3, 1907, while standing on a stepladder attempting to place a block of ice into a 12-foot-tall refrigerator, his foot slipped on an ice chip, causing him to lose his balance. Charles fell backwards, his head striking the sharp end of a meat hook. His skull shattered, he died almost instantly.

Less than two years later, tragedy would strike again. Charles Beilstein's brother-in-law, a 40-year-old butcher named Herman Doernberger, died tragically after an explosion in his shop on July 18, 1909. Evidently, he was investigating a gas leak with a lit match. But perhaps the last, and final, spin of fate's tragic wheel was the most shameful blow of all for the Beilstein family-- a scandal so revolting that the Beilsteins and other prominent Steel City families expended large sums of money to keep the story buried.

Edward Beilstein, a successful 38-year-old Pittsburgh chemist, was a cousin of Bertha Beilstein. In 1916, forty young boys gave testimony behind closed door to Judge Marshall Brown, alleging that Beilstein and a group of friends-- many of them wealthy members of Pittsburgh's leading families-- flogged them and committed other gross sexual indignities upon them, many of which required medical treatment. These orgies were staged in a large apartment rented by the group solely for the purpose of gratifying their deviant sexual habits. While many of the accused rapists escaped arrest by fleeing the city, the case against Edward Beilstein was quietly conducted in Judge Brown's private chambers on Saturday, January 6, 1917. He was sentenced to life imprisonment at the Farview Asylum for the Criminally Insane in Wayne County.

A Possible Curse?

And so ends the bizarre tale of the fall of the house of Beilstein-- a tale of murder, suicide, scandal and Spiritualism. So what was the root cause of the family's troubles? A genetic predisposition to mental illness caused by inbreeding, as Dr. McKenna had suggested during Bertha's trial? If so, then why did this not effect Bertha's sisters, Sophia and Emma, both of whom lived long, healthy lives? And why did this mental illness skip over John and Maria Beilstein's numerous grandchildren?

Logic might suggest that Bertha's untreated brain tumor was responsible for her spiritual delusions and the melancholy state which drove her to attempted suicide. If that's the case, then what about the suicides of David Reis and Edward Beilstein? Perhaps, as strange as it may seem, there really was some sort of curse placed upon the Beilstein family. Their troubles stretched over a 20-year period, and then seemed to disappear as suddenly as they had arrived. So who placed this curse on the heads of the Beilsteins, and why?





Pittsburgh Post. Oct. 4, 1898.
Pittsburgh Post. Nov. 9, 1898.
Pittsburgh Post. Nov. 14, 1898.
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Feb. 21, 1899.
Pittsburgh Press. March 3, 1899.
Pittsburgh Press. May 8, 1899.
Pittsburgh Press. May 9, 1899.
Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. May 10, 1899.
Pittsburgh Press. May 11, 1899.
Pittsburgh Post. Sept. 28, 1906.
Los Angeles Times. May 24, 1907.
Los Angeles Herald. June 8, 1907.
Pittsburgh Press. June 10, 1907.
Pittsburgh Press. June 29, 1907.
Pittsburgh Press. July 2, 1907.
Pittsburgh Press. July 10, 1907.
Pittsburgh Post. Dec. 4, 1907.
Pittsburgh Post. July 19, 1909.
Pittston Gazette. Jan. 12, 1917.
Pittsburgh Press, Aug. 7, 1930.