The Mysterious Death of Polly Schraeder

In January of 1924 the city of Lebanon was shocked by the mysterious demise of an elderly fortune-teller. While the official investigation determined that Mary "Polly" Schraeder had died of natural causes, the facts surrounding the eccentric spinster's death led many to believe that she was murdered for the large fortune she was said to possess. 

Born in Lancaster County in 1837, Mary C. Schraeder was raised in a Schwarzenau Brethen household-- a strict and fanatically conservative Anabaptist religious sect whose practitioners seemed to relish the challenge of out-suffering their neighbors. Some Schwarzenau Brethren, like those in the monastic community founded by Conrad Biessel, eschewed pillows for wooden blocks upon which to rest their heads, while others followed dietary guidelines so restrictive that it led to many unnecessary and preventable deaths (see my article on the Ephrata Cloister for a deeper explanation). Music was forbidden, art and children's games were seen as the devil's work, and every spare moment that wasn't spent in prayer was usually spent in back-breaking labor. 

While Polly's family was from a less-fanatical Schwarzenau sect known as the Old Order German Baptist Brethren, it was still a rugged environment in which to grow up. Even today, members of this sect are scarcely discernible from the Amish; the men wear suspenders and plain clothing and drive horses and buggies, while the women wear long dresses, head coverings, and a distinctive triangular "Brethren" cape. Like the Amish, the Old Order German Brethren conduct religious services without musical accompaniment, but unlike the Amish, modern sect members are allowed to use tractors and other motorized farm equipment. That a woman like Polly should break away from the Brethren church and embrace the "dark arts" of palm-reading and crystal ball gazing is a fascinating story in its own right, even if her death wasn't shrouded in mystery. But it was-- and therein lies the heart of the story.

A Brief Family History

Mary's mother was Rosanna A. Weber, of the Brethren family of the same name (through the years, the name Weber was gradually changed to Weaver). The Webers, who were Lutherans at the time, originally settled in Philadelphia in the early 18th century, having left their homeland in Germany to avoid religious persecution. At this time, the Philadelphia region was still populated by indigenous tribes.

According to Weber family legend, one of these early American ancestors was a young boy with black hair and fair skin, who, one day, happened to fall into the hands of Indians. The natives, it is said, took a liking to him and the Weber boy took a liking to his captors, eventually joining their tribe and rising to the title of chief. But it was not exactly an easy coronation; legend has it that the boy was tied to a tree, behind which a fire had been raised, and "purified" by fire before being carefully laid atop furs greased with bear fat (at least according to Brethren historian Rev. Jacob Gotwals Francis). It was this boy chief who later resettled near Jonestown, Lebanon County. He had a son named George, a blacksmith, whose wife bore him twelve children, one of whom was Veronica Weber, whose daughter, Rosanna, married David Seibert and then Peter Schraeder. Rosanna had two daughters-- Veronica Ann Seibert and Mary Schraeder, who went by the name of Polly in tribute to an aunt. George's brother, Johan (John), was the first member of the family to join the Brethren, sometime around 1840.

Old Order Brethren women in traditional dress.

From Blacksmiths to Bologna

It was this uncle of Polly Schraeder, John Weber, who accumulated the sizeable fortune which Polly was rumored to have inherited. Like his father and grandfather, John was a blacksmith by trade, but he was hailed far and wide as "the blacksmith of blacksmiths". At his forge about a mile southeast of Myerstown, John was said to work miracles with metal; he once repaired a neighbor's crosscut saw that had broken in two so seamlessly that it looked and worked like new. When asked by the neighbor how he had managed to accomplish this impossible feat, John, like a good magician, refused to divulge his secrets. As a result, his reputation spread far and wide, laying the foundation for his future fortune. He bought a farm in Millbach in the 1830s near Royer's Meeting House, where he began attending Brethren church services conducted by Jacob and Samuel Royer. He also began acquiring land and, at the time of his death, was considered to be one of the wealthiest men in Jackson Township. His grandson, Daniel Weaver (for whom Weaverstown is named), is widely credited as the inventor of Lebanon bologna; the company he founded in 1885 is still in business today.

   
A Tale of Two Stepsisters

Despite having different fathers, Polly Schraeder and Veronica Seibert were exceptionally close. They never married, never had any children, and grew old together sharing a home at 1123 Chestnut Street in Lebanon. While Veronica remained a member of the Brethren church, Polly was more eccentric. However, both women were quite worldly and materialistic. The stepsisters were fond of fashion and were known to have custom dresses made by the best seamstresses in Lebanon. Afterwards, they would buy all remaining bolts of whichever fabric the seamstress had used just to ensure that their clothing was "exclusive" and would not be worn by anyone else. In 1913, Polly became one of only a handful of people to own a Cadillac limousine-- and perhaps the only Lebanon resident to hire a personal chauffeur to drive her around. 

Naturally, it wasn't long before rumors began to spread about Polly's supposed wealth, especially after Veronica passed away in February of 1910. After her stepsister's death, Polly became a recluse, entertaining no visitors except for those who sought answers in the lines of their palms or potions to attract lovers and repel evil spirits. She seldom left her home except to be driven around by her chauffeur, Charles Miller, who also served as Polly's handyman.

Charles S. Miller, who lived on South 11th Street, become Polly Schraeder's closest friend and confidante. He was always at Polly's beck and call, even in addition to his employment at the Murphy & Stevenson handkerchief factory on West Cumberland Street. Over the years, Miller and Miss Schraeder devised a convenient method for contacting each other; she would signal to Miller by blinking an electric light on the rear porch of her home that was operated by means of a switch in her bedroom. From his own bedroom window Miller could see the flashes, and he had become accustomed to looking for this signal morning, noon and night during their sixteen years of friendship.

Polly's home as it appears today

 

Discovery of the Body

Early on the bitterly cold Monday afternoon of January 28, 1924, Charles Miller happened to notice that the door to Polly's home was unlatched, and he called a neighbor, Thomas Monaghan, to assist him in making an investigation. Inside the home they found Polly's lifeless body in bed, and it seemed evident that the 87-year-old spinster had been dead for several hours, if not days. But strangely, it was noticed that Polly's arms and legs were bound together by strips of cloth, and there were marks on her face suggesting that she may have been gagged. The pockets of her clothing were turned inside out, and some of her clothes were ripped, as if there had been a struggle. When found, she was clutching a deck of tarot cards in her hand.

The two men immediately notified Chief of Police Cyrus Nye, who dispatched Motorcycle Officer Herman Anspach to the Schraeder home. Officer Anspach reported back to the chief of police that he believed the elderly fortune-teller had been the victim of foul play. Chief Nye went to the Schraeder home to make a personal investigation. Although he noticed that the old woman's  hand and feet were tied, Nye wasn't convinced that a murder had taken place, especially since it appeared that her home hadn't been ransacked. Chief Nye found a great deal of money and valuable jewelry around the house, and, satisfied that nothing had been stolen, stated that Polly had died of natural causes.

"We find nothing to lead us to think that the Schraeder woman was murdered," declared Chief Nye. "As for the cords which are said to have been used in binding her wrists and her ankles, there is nothing to it. She could have easily slipped either her hands of legs out of the loops which were bound to her." Chief Nye held to his opinion even after the cloth strips around her wrists were determined to be from a men's necktie.

"It is not a murder case," he reiterated. "I stick to my original opinion."

A Vexing Problem

Coroner A.W. Schultz conducted an examination of Polly Schraeder's body at her home and determined that her death had been caused by prolonged exposure to the cold. The deceased woman's physician, Dr. John C. Bucher, later examined the body at the Arnold & Son Funeral Parlor and reached the same conclusion. The coroner also examined the contents of the dead woman's stomach and found that it was completely empty, while the police investigation found that there was no food at all in Polly's house, while the stove and fireplace showed no signs of recent use. There was, however, enough coal and firewood to keep her supplied through spring. Ultimately, it was concluded that Polly, in her emaciated condition, was too weak to get out bed and had succumbed to the bitter cold. Coroner Schultz fixed her date of death as Friday, January 25th.

But not everyone was convinced that Polly had died a natural death. According to neighbors, it was Polly's habit to close the shutters of her home at night and open them in the morning, but neighbors reported that they first noticed that Polly's shutters were closed on the morning of Monday, January 28th. If she had been dead since Friday, as the coroner insisted, who was there to open her shutters on Saturday and Sunday morning? And why would Polly choose to starve and freeze to death when she easily could've signaled for her close friend and personal chauffeur from the comfort of her own bedroom?

County Detective George Carpenter was among those who believed that Polly had been murdered. Robbery, he argued, might not have been the motive at all. While Coroner Schultz and Chief Nye believed that Polly had tied up herself up while in a state of delirium, Carpenter scoffed at the idea. He had extensively studied the old woman's home and had viewed the body as it was found and believed that it was impossible for anyone to bind their own hands and feet in the manner in which they were when her body was found. But, as rumors of Miss Schraeder's supposed murder swept through Lebanon, District Attorney Harry Ehrgood announced that he would not order an investigation. Against the advice of local police and the district attorney the county detective vowed to continue his own investigation. He was supported by attorney Adam Stewart Ulrich and William S.  Rise, the executors named in Polly's will, which had been found in the dead woman's bedroom.

Polly Schraeder's death certificate (from findagrave.com)

The Fortune-Teller's Will

As for Polly Schraeder's will, it disclosed that her estate was valued at $15,000 (roughly $300,000 in today's currency). Though it was far from the fortune she was rumored to possess, it was nothing to sneeze about. She either owned or held financial interest in nearly a dozen properties, including two storefronts on Cumberland Street. There were also several fine pieces of antique furniture, which had been in her family since the day the Webers arrived in Lebanon County.

According to William Rise, who also believed the murder theory, he stated that Polly was known to keep $20,000 in a money belt she wore around her waist. The money belt was indeed found by police, but it contained only $2,700. Rise also stated that he had last seen Polly on Wednesday, when he had given her $75 in gold coins after exchanging some of her paper money at the bank. Polly distrusted banks and hated having paper money about the house, and so to protect her wealth from rats and other destructive rodents she preferred gold and silver. Is it possible that someone had seen Rise giving gold coins to Polly and had decided to get his or her own share of the bounty?

 On Thursday, January 31, Polly Schraeder was laid to rest at the Royer's Meeting House graveyard, alongside her stepsister, mother, and other members of the Weber family. Her will was probated later that afternoon. It contained just two expected beneficiaries-- her second cousin, John Weaver, and her personal chauffeur, Charles Miller-- along with William Rise and her attorney. As for the Chestnut Street home in which she lived, Polly had deeded it to Miller prior to her death (or so Miller claimed; her attorney said that he had no knowledge of this). She had also given Miller the titles to the two automobiles she owned, the Cadillac limousine and a Maxwell touring sedan.

Polly's will instructed her executors to sell all her assets for cash and distribute the money among her heirs. This would prove to be a time-consuming task; after the spinster's death, authorities found the upper two floors of her home overflowing with hundreds of dresses, furs and hats, most of which had never been worn, and enough bolts of fabric to start a store. Her executors said that it would take at least four days just to catalog and sell her bolts of fabric alone.

Snubbing Her Kinfolk

It's probably a good thing that Polly's funeral was held before the reading of her will, otherwise probably no one would've attended. Her will basically told her relatives to go pound sand. "Realizing that my relatives have done nothing whereby I feel justified to consider them objects of my bounty, but being always obliged to depend upon strangers for assistance, comfort and counsel and believing them entitled to consideration and worthy of remembrance and of receiving bounty which under other circumstances my relatives should receive, I hereby dispose of my estate in the following manner," she wrote, before bequeathing all that she owned to a second cousin, her chauffeur, and a few minor acquaintances. The will was dated May 17, 1921, superseding three earlier wills she had made out.

One can only wonder whether or not these earlier wills included her relatives, and just what events had caused her to disown her own family. It's also tempting to wonder if any of these events ultimately resulted in her unusual death or had some bearing on the fact that her body was found with the hands and feet tied and several thousand of dollars missing from her money belt. While the "official" investigation determined that Polly Schraeder died of natural causes, that doesn't necessarily mean that a murder didn't take place; after all, heatstroke would be considered a natural cause of death-- even if it was the end result of being forced to march through a sweltering desert at gunpoint.

 

Polly's grave at Royer's Meeting House Cemetery, Myerstown

 

So Was It Murder?

Unfortunately, the truth surrounding the eccentric spinster who once told fortunes on Chestnut Street will most likely never be known, leaving behind a tantalizing mystery. Had Polly Schraeder seen her own demise in the tarot cards she had been holding at the time of her death? If so, might it be possible that she had made up her mind not to fight the inevitable, thereby succumbing to a long, slow suicide by starvation? If such is the case, that wouldn't explain the thousands of dollars that were missing from her money belt and coin pouches.

And what about the men's necktie which had been used to bind her wrists? Chief Nye believed that she could've slipped out of her bindings easily, but maybe the reason why her bindings seemed so loose is because she had wasted away to nothing. And why would an old woman who lived only with her unmarried spinster stepsister for half a century even have a men's tie in the first place? Had it belonged to the chauffeur/handyman, Charles Miller? And why hadn't Miller checked on his dear old friend for several days? It's also strange that, instead of rushing into the home upon finding her door unlatched, Miller enlisted the help of a neighbor to investigate the matter. Might it have aroused suspicion if he had found her body by himself?

Of course, there isn't a shred of evidence to implicate Miller, though the transfer of the property's deed raises questions. Surely Polly's own attorney would've known if his client had given away her home, yet he claimed to have no knowledge of this. Records show that Polly had also given Miller the home he was living in at 23 South 11th Street. This was a much smaller home than the one Polly occupied. If her death was murder and robbery wasn't the motive, might it be that Miller tied up his old friend until she signed over the deed because he wanted a larger home for himself, before leaving her to starve and freeze to death? There is one interesting detail that may support this theory.

According to the January 29, 1924 edition of the Lebanon Evening Report, the Schraeder home was perhaps the most secure private residence in town: The electrical equipment of the Shrader (sic) home was not confined to its illumination, but alarm bells of large dimensions located at various places on the first floor shows that provision had been made against entrance by robbers. Again, an immense Klaxon, electrically operated, in the front room of the first floor, was used in lieu of an ordinary doorbell, Miss Shrader (sic) being afflicted with deafness of late years... One of the interesting things discovered in the tour of the house was the fact that entrance to the rear room in the attic was possible through no less than four doors. The door leading from the stairway was operated by cleverly fashioned and concealed wire equipment.

There was good reason for Polly to take such precautions: She was the victim of an attempted robbery years earlier. On May 11, 1913, while leaning out her back first-floor window closing her shutters for the evening, she was grabbed by the wrists by a would-be robber who attempted to drag her out of the window. Her cries for help scared away the robber, who was never identified. Just four months later, she would hire Miller to be her driver and handyman. Indeed it was Miller who installed all the security devices in Polly's home-- none of which had been tripped before her death. If Miller hadn't been the murderer (assuming that Polly was the victim of foul play), surely it was someone who had familiarity with the house and its eccentric owner, perhaps a relative angered by Polly's revised will. 

Suspicion, as it turned out, never fell upon Charles S. Miller. After Polly's death he rented out the home on Chestnut Street instead of moving into it and took a job at the Lebanon Box Factory. He lived to the ripe old age of 90, passing away in 1956. Conversely, the man who casually wrote off Polly's death, Chief of Police Cyrus Nye, would pass away at the age of 46, following the fortune-telling spinster to the grave just eight months later. Perhaps the reason why he failed to make a thorough investigation of Polly's death was because, at the time, he was in the late stages of severe liver disease. He died from cirrhosis on September 4, 1924.
 
 
Sources:

Lebanon Daily News, May 13, 1913.
Lebanon Daily News, Sept. 25, 1913.
Lebanon Evening Report, Oct. 24, 1918.
Lebanon Evening Report, Oct. 31, 1918.
Lebanon Evening Report, Jan. 31, 1918.
Lebanon Semi-Weekly News, Jan. 28, 1924.
Lebanon Evening Report, Jan. 28, 1924.
Lebanon Evening Report, Jan. 29, 1924.
Lebanon Daily News, Jan. 29, 1924.
Lebanon Evening Report, Jan. 31, 1924.
Lebanon Evening Report, Feb. 1, 1924.