The Herriges Horror in Philadelphia Part 1

The Herriges Horror in Philadelphia.

by Anonymous.

THE HERRIGES HORROR.

"Man's inhumanity to man Makes countless thousands morn."

Every now and then the world is startled with an event of a like character to the one which has just aroused in the city of Philadelphia the utmost excitement, and which came near producing a scene of riot and even bloodshed.

John Herriges is the name of the victim, and for an indefinite period of from ten to twenty years has been confined in a little cagelike room and kept in a condition far worse than the wild animals of a menagerie.

What adds an additional phase of horror to the case of this unfortunate creature is the fact that he was thus confined in the same house with his own brother and mother. To our minds this is the most abhorrent feature of the whole affair.

We can imagine how a stranger, or an uncle, or an aunt possessed with the demon of avarice could deliberately imprison the heir to a coveted estate in some out of the way room or loft of a large building where the victim would be so far removed from sight and sound as to prevent his groans and tears being heard or seen. But how a brother and, Merciful Heaven, a mother could live in a shanty of a house year after year with a brother, and son shut up and in the condition in which the officers of the law found poor John Herriges, is more than we can account for by any process of reasoning. It only shows what perverted human nature is capable of.

THE HOUSE OF HORROR.

The house in which lived the Herriges family is a little two storied frame building or more properly shanty, rickety and poverty stricken in its appearance, more resembling the abodes of the denizens of Baker street slums than the home of persons of real wealth as it really is. It stands on the northeast corner of Fourth and Lombard streets, in Philadelphia.

Immediately to the north of it is an extensive soap boiling establishment, while directly adjoining it in the east are some frame shanties still smaller and more delapidated than itself, and which, belonging to the Herriges also, were rented by Joseph Herriges, the accused, for a most exhorbitant sum. To the credit of the occupants of these shanties, we must say that by means of whitewash they have made them look far preferable to that of their landlord--at least in appearance.

On the north of the soap boiling establishment referred to stretches the burial ground of St. Peter's Episcopal Church, with its hundreds of monuments and green graves, while on the opposite side of Fourth street lies the burial ground of the Old Pine Street Church, with its almost numberless dead.

The writer of this recollects years ago, when a boy, often pa.s.sing and repa.s.sing the Herriges house, and noticing on account of its forlorn appearance and the comical Dutch Pompey which stood upon the wooden pedestal at the door to indicate the business of a tobacconist.

How little he thought when contemplating it, that a human being languished within its dingy wooden walls, in a condition worse than that of the worst-cared-for brutes.

A fact in connection with this case is remarkable, which is this. On a Sabbath morning there is no one spot in the whole city of Philadelphia, standing on which, you can hear so many different church bells at once, or so many different choirs singing the praises of Almighty G.o.d. And on every returning Sunday the poor prisoner's ears drank in the sacred harmony. G.o.d knows perhaps at such times the angels ministered to him in his dismal cage, sent thither with sunshine that could not be shut out by human monsters. Think of it, reader, a thousand recurring Sabbaths found the poor young imbecile growing from youth to a dreadfully premature old age.

The mind staggers to think of it. Could we trace day by day the long wearisome hours of the captive's life, how terrible would be the journey.

We should hear him sighing for the bright sun light that made the grave yard green and clothed all the monuments in beautiful flowers. How he would prize the fragrance of a little flower, condemned as he was to smell nothing but the dank, noisome effluvia of the soap boiler's factory.

Hope had no place in his cramped, filthy cage. No genius but that of Dispair ever found tenement in the grimed little room.

But though so long, oh, so long, Liberty came at last, and the pining boy, now an old man, was set free, through the agency of a poor, but n.o.ble woman, Mrs. Gibson, who had the heart to feel and the bravery to rescue from his h.e.l.lish bondage the unfortunate.

THE GIBSON'S HISTORY OF THE AFFAIR.

On the 1st of June 1870 Thos. J. Gibson and his mother rented the frame house 337 Lombard Street from Joseph Herriges. The house adjoined Herriges cigar store. Mr. Hoger, a shoemaker, living next door to Mrs. Gibson's, told her at the time she moved into the house, that she would see a crazy man in Herriges house and not to be afraid of him. Mrs. Charnes, living next door but one, for seventeen years, laughed at her, when she asked about the crazy man living locked up in Herriges house, as though making light of the whole matter.

VERBATIM COPY OF AGREEMENT BETWEEN JOSEPH HERRIGES AND THE GIBSONS.

This Contract and Agreement is that the rent of sixteen dollars per month is to be paid punctually in advance each and every month hereafter, and if the terms of this contract is not complied with I will leave the house and give up the possession to the lessor or his representatives.

THOS. J. GIBSON.

Received of Ann Gibson sixteen dollars for one month's rent in advance from June 1. To 30 1870 rent to begin on 1. June and end on the 30.

Rented May 27 1870

J. HERRIGES.

THE DISCOVERY.

On Monday, June 14th, Mr. Gibson's little sister was sent up-stairs to get ready for school, and on going to the window she was frightened by seeing a man looking through the crevices of an upper window in Herriges house, which window was in the second story. This window was closely barred with pieces of plank from top to bottom.

The man was mumbling and singing and making strange and singular noises.

The little girl came running down stairs in the utmost terror exclaiming:

"Oh, mother! mother! there is a man up in that room! I saw him poke his nose through the boards just like a dog!"

Being busy, Mrs. Gibson did not go up at this moment to verify the child's statement, but when she did find time she went up. By that time the man had withdrawn his nose from the window, but shortly afterwards she caught a glimpse of something that she thought was the hand of a human being, covered with filth, resting against the s.p.a.ce between the bars.

At this moment Mrs. Gibson saw Mrs. Herriges, John's mother, in the yard, and called to the prisoner, saying:

"What are you there for? Why don't you pull off the boards and get out?"

The man made some response; but in such indistinct tones of voice that Mrs. Gibson could not understand what he said. It was enough to convince her however, that there was a human being confined in the room.

Mrs. Gibson hoped by thus continually talking to the prisoner to get the mother to say something about it, but the old woman did not notice her at all, but after doing something about the yard went into the house.

On Tuesday morning at about 3 o'clock, Mr. Gibson was awakened by noises at the same window. He at once arose and dressed himself and called his mother up and told her he heard some one at Herriges window. These noises were mumbling and singing and a strange noise as though some one were clapping his hands together.

At this time Mr. Gibson got out upon his own shed which leans down toward Herriges fence, and would have got up to the prisoner's window to tear off the bars and get the man out but his mother would not allow him to do it.

It is not more than eleven or twelve feet from Mr. Gibson's window to the window of the little cage like room in which John Herriges was confined, so when Mr. Gibson got down to the edge of the shed he was not more than about three or four feet from the prisoner's window.

Listening a while he could shortly distinguish words being uttered by the prisoner. Among them were these:

"Murdering! Murdering! George! George! they want to get me out of the way."

Mr. Gibson then spoke to him saying:

"Why don't you try and get out of there?"

The prisoner instantly replied:

"I'll promote you! I'll promote you!"

Mr. Gibson remained upon the shed from three o'clock until seven in the morning, while his mother stood at the window.

Being fully satisfied that there was a poor miserable man kept confined in the little room of Herriges house, deprived of his liberty, and not only that but that he was kept in a filthy condition to judge from the horrible stench that issued from the window, the watcher resolved to report the fact to the authorities.