William Bierly, the Man-Beast of Sugar Valley

The grave of William Bierly

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When a newspaper reporter from the Philadelphia Inquirer traveled to the remote mountain wilderness of Clinton County in 1890 in search of a story, he discovered more than the rustic ways and quaint customs of the backwoods hill people-- he discovered an unspeakable horror. It was in Sugar Valley where the Inquirer reporter discovered William Bierly, an elderly man, known to locals as a "raving lunatic", who had been chained like a wild beast for 35 years and forced to live inside a wooden pen.

Prior to 1890, the people of Clinton County tried their best to keep the secret of William Bierly veiled from the outside world. The simple country folk might not have had much in the way of formal education, but they knew that if their secret was to be discovered, the world would wonder just who the real animals were-- the unfortunate mental defective confined to a cage, or the ones who put him there.

William Bierly was born into the rugged wilderness of Clinton County's Brush Valley in 1817. According to locals, William showed no signs of mental illness as a child, and, in fact, showed every sign of growing up to become an industrious, bright and intelligent man. William was one of five sons and two daughters of a farmer and his wife, who eked out a humble existence in the hills near Tylersville. Of the Bierly clan, William showed the most promise; though deprived of formal schooling, he was enamored with books, and eagerly devoured any form of literature he stumbled upon.

By the time he reached adulthood, William had educated himself to such an extent that he was considered by many to be one of the smartest citizens in the valley. Standing at six feet in height, with his broad shoulders and coal black hair, William was also said to be one of the handsomest men for miles around. So it was not surprising that, when he reached the age of 18, William had managed to win the heart of a pretty county girl named Susan Hockman. But there was just one catch-- the apple of William's eye was from a strict, religious family, and Susan would not give her hand in marriage to William unless he promised to enter the ministry.

This, of course, did not sit well with William's parents, who believed that it was a sin for a strong, able-bodied man to waste his most productive years studying Greek and Hebrew texts and poring over ancient, dusty tomes instead of laboring in the fields or forests. But William was adamant, and, reluctantly, his parents finally agreed to fund his education. William threw himself whole-heartedly into his theological studies, while the rest of the Bierly clan lamented the youth's transformation from a sturdy mountain lad to a pale-skinned bookworm.

But something happened to William. By the time he had reached the age of 20 he began to exhibit the first signs of insanity. He grew increasingly melancholy and began acting strangely. It was said that his romance with Susan Hockman hastened his mental collapse; a few months after the young lovers were betrothed, Susan began spending time with a former suitor, a handsome farmer by the name of Samuel Dubs.

As the weeks went by, William became increasingly erratic. He would babble incoherently about his sweetheart's unfaithfulness and make threats of all kinds. On more than one occasion he attempted to harm members of his own family, and turned his back on his plans to become a clergyman. And yet, as his mind grew increasingly weak his body grew increasingly strong. In fact, he soon became a veritable giant in terms of physical strength, and before long his family-- fearing that William would cause harm to himself or others-- decided that ought he to be chained up.



William Terrorizes Lewisburg


William, at first, was confined to a private room in the corner of his family's farmhouse. This was rather unusual for the time, since most rural families often slept in the same room. His thick, black hair grew wild and out of control, his fingernails attained the length and shape of claws. He refused to wear shoes, and continued to wear same outfit until his clothes became tattered rags. Whenever anyone attempted to cut his hair or trim his nails, the young man would lash out with animalistic violence, and he was especially violent whenever a woman was present.

However, he frequently found ways to escape while the rest of the Bierlys were asleep, and was known to wander away from home for several days at a time. Those who encountered him in the woods reported that William, barefoot and ragged, subsisted upon whatever nourishment he could get from the forest. One day, about two years after he had been confined to his private room, William disappeared and wasn't seen for over a week. And then a report came from Lewisburg-- the county seat of Union County, some forty miles away-- that a raving madman with long black hair and brutish strength had burst into the courthouse and chased the judges, jurors and witnesses out of the building like a wolf chasing after sheep. Even the police were held at bay by the hairy menace; it was reported that William Bierly maintained sole possession of the courthouse for "some time" before he was eventually driven out. Howling like a beast, William took off running and disappeared into the wilderness from whence he had come.




A Duel Between Brothers


William returned to Brush Valley several days later, looking wilder than ever, and sat himself down on his family's porch, staring vacantly into nothingness for hours on end until nightfall, and he continued to sit on the porch, stiff as a statue, after the rest of his family retired to their beds. His brother, Michael, attempted to have a talk with him, but William refused to reply. Michael persisted, but was rewarded with only a wolfish growl and a murderous glance. This angered Michael so much that he savagely kicked his brother's bloodied feet with his heavy boots.

With pantherlike speed, William sprang at his brother and knocked him to the ground. A wrestling match ensued. Breaking free, Michael ran into the house, while William went to the shed for a double-edged axe. He chased his brother upstairs, swinging the axe with blind fury. Michael knew that his father kept a shotgun at the top of the stairs, and if he could only reach it in time, he might be able to prevent his deranged brother from splitting his skull in half. He reached the gun just in time, but the weapon was rendered useless when a massive blow from the heavy axe dented the barrel.
Fortunately, the battle between brothers managed to rouse the rest of the family, and the women screamed in terror. Their cries attracted neighbors, who rushed into the farmhouse and up the stairs, throwing themselves desperately at the axe-wielding madman. After a long struggle, the neighbors managed to subdue the attacker and tie him up. After a few days of confinement, he was untied, but if his family had been hoping for a positive change in William's temperament, they were sadly disappointed. Vowing to never return home again, William took to the woods once more.



From Man to Monster



Sixteen years have now elapsed since William Bierly attempted to slaughter his own brother. Susan Hockman and Samuel Dubs are happily married and living in Freeport, Illinois. The Bierlys have sold the family farm in Brush Valley and are now living on the other side of the mountain in Sugar Valley. William Bierly has a new home as well; he is confined to a room on the first floor of the Bierly homestead in Sugar Valley. This time thick iron bars have been stretched across the windows and the door is padlocked. A strong chain confines him to one of the four wooden posts, a pile of straw serves as his bed. Food is heaped on a plate and pushed across the floor under the bars of the door; William-- his appetite having grown to monstrous proportions-- devours the food and promptly smashes the plate into millions of jagged splinters. Every few weeks, several of the valley's strongest farmers come into the cell and subdue the man-beast so that his excrement can be scrubbed from the floors and walls. And in this fashion life goes on, year after year, for William Bierly.

In fact, this will be William Bierly's life for the next twenty-six years.

When the patriarch of the Bierly clan finally passed away, the farm property was passed down to the oldest son, Samuel, on the condition that he care for his lunatic brother as long as he should live. The other sons-- Peter, John and Michael-- moved away. In 1875, Samuel decided that William would be better off living in a pen, and so a hut was erected about ten yards from the main house. Constructed of heavy oak timber and iron rivets, William's new cell was escape-proof. It was also sweltering hot in the summer and dangerously cold in the winter, and it was in this hellish hovel the Man-Beast of Sugar Valley lived out the remainder of his life.



A Reporter Uncovers Clinton County's Best Kept Secret



It was in Tylersville in November of 1890 when a newspaper reporter from Philadelphia happened to make a stop at Daniel Bierly's blacksmith shop. One way or another the reporter learned of the existence of the Man-Beast of Sugar Valley, but the blacksmith was reluctant to speak of the matter; scarcely a hundred souls in Clinton, Centre, Union and Snyder counties knew of William Bierly, and those who knew about the wild man were desperate to keep the information under wraps. In short, nobody was willing to divulge the location of William Bierly to an out-of-towner. What good could possibly come of it? No, revealing such a secret would only lead to family shame and possibly a criminal charge of false imprisonment... or something worse. Even William Harter, well-known merchant and postmaster for the vicinity, claimed to know nothing of the matter.

The reporter, however, was eventually able to track down the location of Samuel Bierly's farm and made an unannounced visit. The owner of the property was out hunting at the time, but William Auman, the wife of Samuel's daughter, was home. But more importantly, he was not only willing to talk, he was also willing to introduce him to the Man-Beast of Sugar Valley.

"You see, he is 73 years old and has been in chains for thirty-five years," explained Auman, picking up the heavy irons that had formerly restrained the wild man. "He is still strong in there and would kill a stranger if he got him in his clutches." According to Auman, he had removed the chains from William Bierly on August 21, 1889, and had discovered that the prisoner, after decades of being shackled at the ankles, could no longer move his lower limbs; he was, essentially, paralyzed from the waist down. The reporter noted that, while Bierly's upper body appeared strong and healthy, his legs appeared like those of a skeleton.

"Now that he can't move, we have put a stove in the room to keep him warm in winter," continued Auman. "He has been a dangerous man, but I guess it's about over now, for he can't move his legs, and I guess he will sit there till he dies."

Auman's grave at Tylersville Cemetery

An Act of Love, or an Act of Torture?


History records that William Auman was only partly correct; William Bierly indeed remained imprisoned for the rest of his life, but he survived for three more years. On Saturday, April 15, 1893, Bierly suffered a broken leg after falling out of bed. Although the fracture was set immediately by a doctor, Bierly passed away the following day.

Of course, one can't help but wonder just how long the Man-Beast of Sugar Valley might've gone on living had his legs not been emaciated from decades of bondage, and one can't help but ponder whether or not there was moral justification in keeping William Bierly caged like a beast instead of turning him over to the proper authorities. Certainly there was no shortage of psychiatric facilities the Bierly family could have turned to-- there was Danville State Hospital (formerly known as the "State Hospital for the Insane at Danville"), which opened its doors in 1872, and the Harrisburg State Hospital (formerly known as the "Pennsylvania State Lunatic Hospital"), which can trace its roots all the way back to 1845.

The grave of Susan Hockman and Samuel Dubs at Freeport City Cemetery

Was the family's decision to keep William Bierly in chains an act of love or an act of malice? Those familiar with the crude and barbaric psychiatric treatments of the 19th century might argue the former, but others might disagree. The only people who know the answer to that question for sure are long dead and buried at Tylersville Lutheran & Reformed Cemetery, where a visitor can ponder these questions amid the crumbling monuments marking the final resting places of William Bierly, his parents, and his seven brothers and sisters.



Sources: 
The Centre Reporter, Sept. 6, 1877.
Philadelphia Inquirer, Nov. 17, 1890.
Snyder County Tribune, April 20, 1893.