The Franklin Castle - Chapter 9b

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Chapter 9b

I could spend hours discussing the many rumors. Most ridiculous, some true. I heard a rumor how Hannes tortured and hanged a servant in a secret room. Authorities never found a body. A convenient story and without proof and over a hundred years old, that is hard to resist.
Coincidentally, documented accounts of missing children in the late 1800’s began to pop up in this section of Cleveland. I found no evidence to connect Hannes to any of these disappearances. Nevertheless, the point pauses for notice. These stories, passed down over the years, fuel the urban legends.

In 1895, Luise died. The official cause of death listed as liver failure. I have no reason to dispute this fact. After all, the premature death of so many of her children cannot be a positive impact on one’s health. They held Luise’s funeral in this parlor, right where we now sit. The coffin sat in front of the fireplace.

Creepy, right?

People continued to point a suspicious finger at Hannes. Too many deaths in the house and far too little accountability make the conjecture less ridiculous. Even if the incidents did not involve foul play, the people in this neighborhood did not welcome this sort of bad juju. Remember these were the blue bloods of Northeast Ohio.

Many stories suggested Hannes killed his wife, children, and even some of the servants in the house. I heard a story how a housekeeper attempted to steal jewelry, and Hannes strangled the servant and hid her body in a secret room somewhere in the house.

But, no one knows. Indentured help in those days disappeared often and went unnoticed.

A solitary man, Hannes ran Euclid Avenue Savings and Trust from his home. Even in the early days of the bank, he spent little time at the office. He managed the bank from a distance. After he moved into the Franklin Castle, his visits to the office became so rare, soon all his management of the business happened in writing and by courier.

Not long after Luise’s death, Hannes sold the house and moved into an even larger home on Lake Road. He lived in the house for 33 years, and some say he came back here to live after he passed on. After he left the home, he married a servant from the Franklin Castle. This raised several eyebrows in the community. The standard practice for a man in mourning was to wait a certain amount of time before courtship. Moreover, he fraternized with a common servant. How shameful.

Hannes had no family, his siblings, wife, and children all died. When he left the castle, there were not any close friends with whom to keep in touch. His managers at the bank never saw him as his involvement in the bank dropped dramatically when he moved into the house on Franklin Boulevard. Even his neighbors on Franklin Boulevard saw him so seldom, they would not recognize him if they passed him on the street.

Hannes died in 1908. The stories of Hannes’ atrocities did not end with his death. In fact, the stories increased in scope. The Cleveland Plain Dealer reported Hannes killed his own niece in a secret room under the house. This room served as a torture chamber. Supposedly, Hannes killed his insane niece in the room to avoid shame to the family.
Now, legend suggests Hannes returned to the Franklin Castle after he died.

Not many people know this, but when Hannes was a young man, he suffered an accident and doctors removed one leg at the knee. Hannes wore a false leg made of metal. The leg made a horrible hollow sound when he walked, and forced him to walk with a distinctive limp. There are documented accounts through the years of people who heard the sound of a hollow limp move up and down the main hallway, and then something pounded on the door. The story evolved to suggest he walked up and down the hall every night and looked for more children to kill. Many parents used the story of old Hannes to coax their children into bed.

Hannes sold the house to a family named Mullhauser. I found very little information regarding the Mullhauser’s stay in the Franklin Castle. We know in 1913, the Mullhauser’s sold the house to the American Socialist Party. According to all records, no one lived-in the house over the next fifty-five years they owned the house. The Socialists only used the house for parties, rallies, and meetings.

The minimal amount of information regarding this period is unfortunate. Officially, the American Socialist Party affiliated with their Bolshevik cousins in Russia. During this period in our history, Socialism was relatively unknown here. The group purchased the house four years before the Bolshevik Revolution, which saw the advent of the Soviet Union and communism in Russia. However, in this state of anonymity and ignorance by the American public, the organization began to flourish. Prior to World War I, the ASP elected two party members to Congress. The year before the ASP purchased the house, their presidential candidate even received over a million votes. However, the group’s ideology proved a mixed set. They differed from their cousins in Russia, and caused the party’s political agenda to split in a myriad of directions. In 1919, a rift formed in the organization and many of the Bolshevik supporters left to form their own group.

As the ASP weakened in the years before World War II, their ideology continued to shift and they adopted an identity of a similar new organization in another country. This new cousin organization: the Nazi Party in Germany.

Conjecture has it the American Socialist Party became domestic Nazi spies before and throughout the Second World War. As with anything connected with the Nazi’s, we love nasty rumors of bad things, the eternal bad guys, blamed for nearly every twentieth century malady.

I uncovered some chatter in old FBI documents about an execution of twenty people in the basement of the Franklin Castle. A lot of talk, however, no bodies or secret rooms corroborated this story.

Officially, the house remained empty all through that span of years. With a little research on my part, I found some evidence that suggested someone otherwise.

In the 1930’s, the Florence Nightingale Agency, a company that provided home care nurses, assigned a nurse to visit the castle three times a day to care for an aging attorney. The nurse made statements in a separate court deposition twenty years later regarding her employment at the house. After four months, she refused to set foot in the house again. In her words, the old man was evil as well as the people associated with the house. She heard the sounds of a child crying in the house. The deposition said nothing about ghosts, instead she feared terrible things current occurred to children in the house, and that is why she left.
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The Fenian Avenger - Chapter 5a

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Chapter 5a

April - 18 years ago

Liam Malone took a swift step to the side as a uniformed officer struggled with a man in handcuffs. The prisoner knocked the hat off the officer’s head and it rolled across the hallway. The officer scooted across the hall, with the detainee pulled beside him, and picked up the standard dark blue Garda hat. The itchy cap, made of wool, displayed a brass badge with a light blue circle surrounded by gold and dark blue, outlined with alternate circles and fleur-de-lies. The remainder of the Garda uniform consisted of the familiar powder blue dress shirt, emblazoned with dark blue shoulder emblems, finished with a dark blue tie, a nameplate over the right pocket, and pleated blue trousers.

Liam flattened against the wall. Unable to avoid the handcuffed man’s momentum, Liam crumpled to the ground as the criminal bumped him in the groin. Liam let out a muffled grunt at the impact and pushed the prisoner aside.

“Sorry, sir, Detective,” the uniformed Garda said as he replaced his hat on his head.

“No worries,” Liam said and forced a smile. “You have yourself a wild one there, don’t ya?”
The officer shrugged. “Sorry, I’ll give him a whack in the jewels in a bit as payback. Sorry.”

Liam smiled as he brushed back a stringy shock of light brown hair across his head with his hand. He felt the word “sorry” was the most overused word in the Irish vocabulary and became almost reflexive in casual conversation, as the phrase started a good number of conversations where an apology was not necessary. As the term was such a norm in conversation, when conditions required a true apology, you practically needed to offer indentured servitude to make the applicable repentance.

On a normal day, foot traffic in these halls resembled a poorly engineered congested Paris intersection. With everyone in a hurry, usually only the rude and pushy survived, of course the rude and pushy softened their actions with numerous instances of spontaneous “Sorry’s” to make amends. Any attempt at conversation degraded in rapid time into shouts in order to rise above the din.

These halls were not for the meek. These were the halls of the headquarters of the Garda Síochána na hÉireann, in Gaelic meaning Guardians of the Peace of Ireland. The Garda, or Gardaí for plural, were the Irish law enforcement organization, similar to local police in the United States or Great Britain, or the Mounted Police in Canada The public usually just called the organization as a whole the Gardaí (pronounced Gar-a-die) and individual officers as a Garda (pronounced Gar-a-dee, Gar-a-day, or Gar-a-da depending on what dialect they spoke).

While not as large as their cousins in New York City or London, the Garda Force Region of the Dublin Metropolitan headquarters was the largest Gardaí region in all of Ireland. The force covered nearly as many crimes and cases as all the other Irish regions in total. A trend not likely to decrease in the coming years with indications the depression Ireland experienced showed no sign of alleviating.

Garda headquarters lay nestled in an out of the way northeastern corner of Phoenix Park. A large metropolitan park, Phoenix Park sprawled across the western side of Dublin, and was Europe’s largest urban park. The city populated the commons with Fallow Deer, who grazed within the walled confines. The government scattered monuments to its most prominent historic citizens along the grounds. The residences of the President of Ireland and the United States Ambassador to Ireland lay within the confines of the grounds. Strewn across the park were football fields, rugby patches, picnic areas, concert areas, and untouched wooded areas.

As funds dried up in city coffers, the ability to upkeep such a large park became difficult. A result of the cutbacks saw the wooded areas grow in size, become overgrown, and become no longer traversable. A new sub-culture called “Parkers” emerged. Outlaws and homeless thieves who lived in the urban woods and preyed upon visitors, Parkers touted themselves as modern day Robin Hood and the Merry Men living in Dublin’s version of Sherwood Forest. Gardaí pointed out the concept of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor as questionable in this case, since they gave no stolen money to the poor, unless you considered the Parkers were actually the “poor” in the scenario.

The Garda Force headquarters took a back seat to its neighbor, the Dublin Zoo, at the intersection of North and Zoo Roads, much to the appreciation of Gardaí. Over the years, the confines of the zoo provided Garda officers a way to conduct anonymous meetings with informants and other individuals away from the formality of headquarters. Garda personnel enter the zoo free as a benefit, which also includes access after public hours. Dublin Zoo administrators instigated this benefit to encourage Gardaí to become visible in the zoo. They trusted the added presence operated as an addendum to the existing security force. Phoenix Park was no different from the rest of Dublin and mired in crime and gang activity.

The Gardaí formed in 1922 when the Republic of Ireland gained independence from Britain. With law enforcement in Ireland fractured into many units at the time, Gardaí became a centralized presence and replaced the Royal Irish Constabulary, a division of the British police, and the Irish Republican Police, which operated regionally from 1919 through 1922. Originally called the Civic Guard, the Garda Síochána Act of 1923 renamed the organization as the Garda Síochána na hÉireann, and eventually merged with the Dublin Metropolitan Police, to form a single law enforcement body for Ireland.

Gardaí consisted of six Regions across Ireland: Eastern, Northern, Western, Southern, Southeastern, and the Dublin Metropolitan. An Assistant Commissioner ran each Region, and reported to a panel of three Deputy Commissioners, who worked for an overall Commissioner. Within the Dublin Metropolitan, the city divided into six districts: North, South, East, West, North Central, and South Central.

Always an issue with every large police force, corruption especially dogged Gardaí. During the days of the recent depression, Gardaí garnered a reputation of corruption at every level. From images and video on the RTÈ of uniformed Gardaí shaking down citizens for money, to stories of the majority of the force paid by outside interests, most citizens view Gardaí as the last people to call if you were in trouble. With the amount of corruption rampant, the fact Gardaí telephone number contained the numbers 666 amused Liam Malone.

 

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The Franklin Castle - Chapter 9a

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Chapter 9a

Terry spoke in a steady voice.

They called this the Franklin Castle. By far the largest home on Franklin Boulevard when finished in 1864, the residence looked like a gothic castle. Residents of Cleveland referred to this neighborhood as Millionaire’s Row. Hannes Tiedemann and his wife Luise designed their dream home based on a twisted vision.

Hannes and Luise emigrated from Germany. A hard working but feared tyrant, Hannes worked his way up and became a millionaire. Back then, a million dollars was Bill Gates-type of money, so this achievement carried with it power. As his wealth increased, he lost whatever values and humility he once possessed. He did anything he wanted because of the resources at his disposal. Hannes built his fortune as the owner of a grocery store and liquor store, the business venture turned into a chain. After he acquired his initial wealth, he changed his business model and founded The Euclid Avenue Savings and Trust Company. From there, his wealth increased at an exponential manner. This mansion served as the exclamation point of Hannes’ success in life. He was, in his own mind, master of the universe and could do no wrong.

Hannes built the Franklin Castle during the great industrial boom in Cleveland, and the distinction as one of the first homes on Franklin Boulevard. The choice of architecture firm to design and build the home seemed odd. This architect had little experience in building homes and they specialized in bridges and industrial structures. Luise handed the architects the specifications and they designed the monstrosity. The result was a truly unique home, perhaps the most notable home in the neighborhood. In the latter part of the nineteenth century, the standard design was a large boxy home. The Franklin Castle has a unique front façade. This house features turrets and carved stonework. And no gothic mansion is complete without stone gargoyles.

The Franklin Castle consists of forty-eight rooms, more or less. The number depends on what you consider a room. The house includes a large two-story ballroom addition on the west side of the house added in the 1880’s, stained glass windows, and fresco paintings on the walls and ceilings. The grounds include a large carriage house on the back of the property, which can hold four cars, as well as a fully furnished apartment on the second floor, which added another six rooms to the estate. Archer Ryan lives in the carriage house, and not in the main house.

The original owners, the Tiedemann family, consisted of Hannes and Luisa, his mother Wiebeka, and least six children, though the number is possibly larger. A full service staff lived in the house, their residents in the basement.

To this point in the story, these are the only public facts known about Hannes Tiedemann. At this point, the urban legends kick in. I can’t say how much of any of these are true. Most legends are based on some granular of truth, but who can say what. What I heard paints Hannes as a hated tyrant with his family and employees, a strict and cruel man with a fierce temper.

And according to legend, a murderer.

However, this is just speculation, at this point.

In 1881, misfortune struck the family. Hannes’ mother Wiebeka and his fifteen-year-old daughter Emma died within weeks of each other. The coroner’s report lists Wiebeka’s death as heart failure and Emma’s as diabetes. Speculation has the cause of death much more sinister.

I’ve read the official reports on the two deaths and details are sketchy, even by the standards of the late 1800’s. However, hindsight is perfect, and who am I to dispute a report over one hundred years old?

Questions arose about the fate of three other children, all of whom died in 1883. No death certificates or hospital records exist regarding the three. In statements Hannes made, he claimed the children died of ailments. Of course, interviews with neighbors suggest something more.

All quite strange.

But, not enough evidence for the police to step in.

After these deaths, a distraught Luise began to exhibit strange behavior in the house. The rumors suggest Luise went a little mad. I found records she spent time institutionalized at Fallsview psychiatric hospital. She worked on the house during the final years of her life, she changed many features. She hired a firm to add many special features. At this time, they installed secret passages, trapdoors, hidden rooms, and tunnels.

Such a nice little gothic mansion.

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