In the fascinating yet eerie history of the city of Augsburg, there are numerous figures who have left a lasting mark on the annals of time. One such figure is undoubtedly the ‘Girl-Slasher’, a name that struck fear and terror into the hearts of the population in the 19th century. The ‘Girl-Slasher’ was a man who slashed young girls without, however, killing them as the notorious serial killer ‘Jack the Ripper’ did. He always followed the same modus operandi, inflicting deep cuts on young women with a sharp object in secluded alleyways at dusk. After his attack with a sharp instrument, the unknown assailant would vanish back into the darkness of the night. The women who were attacked described the man as tall and very slim, wearing a loose-fitting coat and a wide-brimmed hat that covered his face. On some occasions, the man would also use a stranglehold on the women. The ‘Girls’ Cutter’, as he was dubbed in the press, caused panic amongst the people of Augsburg. Women only dared to leave the house when accompanied, and the police stepped up their daily patrols. Due to public pressure, in January 1832 the Augsburg city council offered a reward of 50 guilders, which was increased to 100 guilders a month later. Yet despite intensive police investigations, a fatal miscarriage of justice occurred as early as 1820. For even at that time, the ‘Girls’ Slasher’ was already on the rampage. Back then, 19-year-old Katharine Huber had been attacked by a man whilst out fetching beer one evening. On 26 February 1820, the bank clerk Georg Rügemer was wrongly arrested as the Augsburg ‘Girl-Slasher’. Although he regained his freedom after a few days, he was subsequently ostracised. He lost his job, and the reputation of being the ‘Girl-Slasher’ clung to him like a leaden weight. After Rügemer’s death, the public believed the attacks would cease, but they continued. A particularly harrowing case was described in the historical edition of the Augsburger Tagblatt from 1832. On her way home, the 16-year-old maid Karolin Eislin was attacked in a narrow alley, during which the perpetrator inflicted a cut on her right forearm about a finger’s length long. Such detailed accounts heightened the sense of constant threat in the city. Further attacks followed until the ‘girl-slasher’ was finally arrested following an assault on Josepha Merk on 6 January 1837. He turned out to be Karl Alois Joseph Bertle, a 37-year-old, unmarried son of a wine merchant and property owner in Augsburg. He was regarded as a law-abiding citizen of Augsburg, though he led a very socially reclusive life and suffered from melancholy. Karl Bertle underwent a psychological examination by the court physician and Munich police doctor, Dr Senger, who classified him as not of sound mind. An additional expert opinion from the Medical Committee confirmed that he was fully of sound mind. The motive lay in a disturbed sexual desire complex. At night, Karl Bertle would fantasise about providing women with complete sexual satisfaction by means of cutting. He was charged with a total of 19 offences, some of which were attempted assault. On 29 December 1839, the Royal Court of Appeal for the Upper Danube District sentenced him to four years’ imprisonment in a workhouse. This judgement was upheld on 12 August 1839 by the High Court of Appeal of the Kingdom of Bavaria, though the sentence was reduced to three and a half years. The sentence was served at the Disciplinary and Penal Workhouse in Munich. On 29 March 1842, Karl Bertle was pardoned in view of his demonstrable improvement. Following his release, according to a woman named Creszentia Weishaupt, Karl Bertle is said to have brandished a cutting instrument in public on 23 December 1843. However, the authorities chose not to pursue the matter, as Bertle’s behaviour had been impeccable up to that point. There were no further attacks on young women. After his release, Bertle lived in utter poverty; in September 1883, he attempted suicide in Holzbach, but the attempt failed. Thereafter, he was provided with a daily bowl of soup and a weekly allowance of 4 marks by the municipal poor relief scheme. He died on 16 July 1885 in Augsburg at the age of 86. Yet the memory of his crimes and their consequences lingered for a long time. Bertle’s case is not only a gripping story of crime and punishment, but also offers insights into the development of criminal history and judicial practice in 19th-century Augsburg. This grim episode impressively demonstrates just how profoundly a single perpetrator can plunge an entire city into fear and terror, and how complex the psychosocial mechanisms behind such acts are.



