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"Finally the whale swam away dragging the two boats away with him."

Perhaps an 1890s sailor was truly swallowed alive by a whale and lived to tell about it, or perhaps, more likely, the editors from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle had truly swallowed lots of alcohol. From that newspaper’s July 12, 1891 edition:

“The whaling vessel Star of the East arrived here yesterday, after a cruise of the two years and a half in the South Atlantic waters. She had on board a man who is a veritable Jonah, having existed in a whale’s belly thirty-six hours.

The man’s statement is vouched for by the captain and crew of the vessel, and today he is an object of great curiosity among the sailors. The man’s name is James Bartley and he hails from New Bedford, where he was born thirty-eight years ago. He had made two voyages from this port on the Star of the East, and notwithstanding his exciting experience during his last trip he says that he will ship for another voyage as soon as an opportunity to do so offers itself.

The strange story told by him is, in substance, as follows:

Last February the Star of the East was in the vicinity of the Falkland Islands searching for whales, which were very scarce. One morning the lookout sighted a whale about three miles away on the starboard quarter. Two boats were manned and put chase to the prey.

In a short time one of the boats was near enough to enable the harpooner to send a spear into the whale, which proved to be an exceedingly large one. With the shaft in his side the animal sounded and then sped away, dragging the boat after him with terrible speed. He swam straight away about five miles, when he turned and came back almost directly toward the spot where he had been harpooned. The second boat waited for him, and when but a short distance away from him he arose to the surface. As soon as his back showed above the surface of the water the harpooner in the second boat drove another spear into him. The pain apparently crazed the whale, for it thrashed about fearfully, and it was feared the boat would be swamped and the crews drowned. Finally the whale swam away dragging the two boats away with him. He went about three miles and sounded or sank, and his whereabouts could not be exactly told. The lines attached to the harpoons were slack and the harpooners began to slowly draw them in and coil them in the tubs. As soon as they were tautened the whale arose to the surface and beat about his tail in the maddest fashion. The boats attempted to get beyond the reach of the animal, which was apparently in its death agonies, and one of them succeeded, but the other was less fortunate. The whale struck it with his nose and upset it. The men were thrown itno the water and before the crew of the other boat could pick them up one man was drowned and James Bartley had disappeared.

When the whale had become quiet from exhaustion the waters were searched for Bartley, but he could not be found, and under the impression that he had been struck by the whale’s tail and sunk to the bottom, the survivors rowed back to the ship. The whale was dead and in a few hours the great body was lying by the ship’s side and the men were busy with axes and spades cutting through the flesh to secure the fat. They worked all day and a part of the night. They resumed operations the next forenoon, and were soon down to the stomach, which was to be hoisted to the deck. The workmen were startled while laboring to clear it and to fasten the chain about it to discover something doubled up in it that gave spasmodic signs of life.

"He was placed in the captain’s quarters, where he remained two weeks a raving lunatic."

The vast pouch was hoisted to the deck and cut open, and inside was found the missing sailor doubled up and unconscious. He was laid out on the deck and treated to a bath of sea water, which soon revived him, but his mind was not clear and he was placed in the captain’s quarters, where he remained two weeks a raving lunatic. He was carefully treated by the captain and officers of the ship and he finally began to get possession of his senses. At the end of the third week he had entirely recovered from the shock and resumed his duties. The skin on the face and hands of Bartley has never recovered its natural appearance. It is yellow and wrinkled and looks like old parchment. The health of the man does not seem to have been affected by his terrible experience; he is in splendid spirits and apparently fully enjoys all the blessings of life that come his way.”

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From the July 27, 1902 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Alfred Londo, who until last Tuesday was an orderly in the insane pavilion at Bellevue Hospital, and who eloped with and married Winnie Brennan, an attendant in the female department of the insane pavilion, last night attempted suicide in a cell in the East Twenty-Second Street police station, Manhattan. Previously he had declared in the street that he was tired of married life and wanted to die and had assaulted a policeman in an attempt to get the latter’s revolver. After it was all over Londo was lodged in the prison ward at Bellevue charged with having attempted suicide. 

‘Let me die,’ he said. ‘No more married life for me. I’ve had enough.’”

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Gold seekers traverse Chilkoot Pass, 1898.

The 1890s was the setting for a North American gold rush second only in fame to the ’49ers of San Francisco. Thousands of hopefuls made their way to the Klondike region in the Yukon with eyes as wide as nuggets, hoping for strikes, but the price was high, as violence and desperation abounded and privations were severe. Making matters worse was an apparent monopoly on food importation to the rugged terrain by a handful of ill-managed concerns. From an account in the July 23, 1897 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Great Falls, Mont.–Frank Moss, an old time miner in this section, who four years ago, was one of a party of Americans to first visit the Klondike country, returned today and tells a story of horrors and starvation seldom equaled even in modern novels. He describes Klondike as a placer camp seven miles long and thirteen miles wide, located in a sink, walled in by boulders of rock 3,000 feet high. Gold, he says, abounds but no ordinary man can stand the hardships of the uncivilized region.

When Moss left here four years ago he was a sturdy fellow over six feet tall. From hardships and privation he is a cripple for life and badly broken in health. In three years, he says, he saw over 2,000 graves, made in the Klondike basin, a large majority dying from starvation. The steamship companies bring in all food and allow no private importation. Consequently it is not uncommon to go for weeks with but a scant supply and for days entirely without food. The gold brought in last week to Seattle, Moss says, does not represent the findings of individual shippers, but a large proportion was confiscated from the effects of those 2,000 miners who fell prey to the hardships. At the death of a man possessed of dust, his body was buried without a coffin and the dust divided among those who cared for him.

The richest strike, Moss says, has been made by a 21 year old boy named George Hornblower of Indianapolis. In the heart of a barren waste, known as Boulder Field, he found a nugget for which the Transportation Company gave him $5,700. He located his claim at the find and in four months has taken out over $1,000,000. The richest section, Moss says, is yet undeveloped. It is 100 miles from Klondike and known as the Black Hole of Calcutta. It is inhabited by ex-convicts of Bohemia and murders and riots take the place of law and order. A few months ago Klondike organized a justice committee and its laws prevail there now. With the great crowds preparing to go to the scene now, Moss says hunger and suffering will be great. Moss returns with $6,000 in dust and leaves tomorrow for his old home in Dubuque, Ia., where he will spend the balance of his years.”

Paying for provisions with gold dust, 1899.

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From the May 6, 1888 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Cincinnati, Oh.–George Hummel, a baker living at 104 Mound Street, made desperate by financial difficulties, shot himself through the body last night in his bedroom. After a surgeon had dressed his wounds, a Newfoundland dog pushed his way into the bedroom and mounted guard over his master. No one dared enter until this morning, when Mrs. Hummel made the venture. The dog sprang upon her and lacerated her arm. A police officer was called in and he shot the dog. Mr. Hummel’s wound is dangerous.”

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"The liver strikingly resembles the liver of a camel or a seal."

In a ranking of the best pathologists in the history of the world, Dr. William Moser would not be near the top of the list. From the July 18, 1898 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Some of the medical profession in this borough are at present discussing the subject of an interesting human liver recently come upon by Dr. William Moser, pathologist of St. Catharine’s and St. Mary’s Hospitals in the course of an autopsy on a middle aged male adult. Dr. Moser has presented the liver to the Brooklyn Medical Society and it is now preserved and on view at the society’s rooms.

Dr. Moser, who, on account of his abilities, possesses the respect of his fellows in the profession, made the statement to an Eagle reporter this morning that the discovery was one of the strongest pieces of corroborative evidence in support of Darwin’s theory of evolution recently discovered.

He said: ‘The specimen to which I have drawn the attention of the profession demonstrates a human liver analogous to that of a camel or a seal from the fact that it consists of numerous lobes like theirs. In fact, I am convinced that we have in it a specimen of atavism, or a reversion to a remote ancestral type or to our own next of kin, the orangutan or the ape. In this instance the liver strikingly resembles the liver of a camel or a seal, and going a step backward, furnishes strong evidence in support of Darwin’s theory of evolution.’”

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"Fitzsimmons."

From the April 13, 1897 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Fitzsimmons, the lobster weighing 31 pounds, which has been one of the attractions of the aquarium, New York, died during the night.”

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A young girl with dreams of being a trick rider was arrested after running away from home and following a circus from town to town. A report from the August 25, 1894 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Lizzie Finck, the pretty 14 year old girl who was arrested on Thursday at Patchogue for following the circus will be given over to the custody of her parents tonight. Lizzie was identified as the daughter of John Finck, formerly of Brooklyn but now of Mount Vernon, N.Y. The circus manager, who caused the arrest of the girl, says she was noticed to be a regular attendant of the show at both afternoon and evening exhibitions in every town the circus had visited for a week past. As the girl invariably appeared in a different costume every day, the circus people were greatly puzzled and hesitated about causing her arrest.

It was not until she appeared at Sag Harbor on Wednesday that the manager decided to have her taken into custody should she follow them further. The next day she was promptly on hand for the street parade at Patchogue and among the fist to purchase tickets for the afternoon exhibition. 

The complaint was made to Justice Hegeman, to whom the prisoner made a garbled confession. She declares she intends to be a circus rider and that the present interference with her plans will not in any way change her ideas. The girl’s father was telegraphed for.”

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From the November 14, 1895 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Dallas, Tex.–C.B. Howard, late of California, who recently came to Dallas from Hot Springs, killed himself here by taking poison in a cup of coffee. He had spent all his money, except some small change, on a protracted spree at Fort Worth, and when he returned to Dallas his wife declined to live with him longer. He then drank the poison in a restaurant, walked into a saloon and drank down two big glasses of whisky, saying: ‘I am going to die and shall go off well-loaded.’”

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The colorful 19th-century Gravesend clan known as the Moreys loved horses–especially with salad and a baked potato. From an article in the January 13, 1895 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“The eccentricities of the Morey family, which for the past ten years have kept the town of Gravesend guessing what was to come next, have given the place another shock of such an entirely different nature from any of the former performances that even the old residents shake their heads and declare themselves beaten. A complaint was made at the police headquarters yesterday that a horse belonging to the Moreys had died and was lying in the yard. An officer was sent over and upon entering the yard found, to his amazement, that the horse had been partially skinned and cut up. When he arrived on the spot, Lena Morey, the 16 year old daughter of Elizabeth Morey, was just finishing the work of skinning the dead horse. Portions of the carcass–the best parts–had been cut out and placed in a tub, awaiting the process of pickling, which would keep it for the future use of the family, while the portions considered poor for eating were being fed to the dogs and the pigs owned by the family.

Mrs. Morey told the policeman that she had a right to do as she pleased with her own, that there was a great deal worse meat eaten every day than horse meat and that she did not propose to starve while she could get anything as good. As to the hide, she said she proposed to make strong leather bags of it.

In spite of her vehement protests and threats, the officer seized upon all of the carcass in sight, as well as the hide, and all was sent to Barren Island for cremation, while the board of health was notified.”

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From the December 31, 1900 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Albany–Governor Roosevelt today pardoned Annie Walden, who is serving a life sentence in Auburn Prison for the murder of her husband, James Walden, a horse jockey, whom she shot and killed at the door of the house of a woman who had come between her husband and herself.

The murder took place in September, 1891, and Mrs. Walden has been in prison ever since. Her pardon was requested by Mrs. Beekman de Puyster, a State Charities Commissioner, and other prominent women.

Governor Roosevelt has given a great deal of attention to the case and believes that the circumstances attending the crime warrant executive clemency.”

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This grisly classic photograph shows the aftermath of the hanging of murderer and train robber Thomas “Black Jack” Ketchum, a botched operation that left him headless and spectators stained with blood. According to the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Ketchum had, in 1899, single-handedly robbed a train of the Colorado and Southern Railway in Folsom, New Mexico. During the holdup he was wounded by a bullet fired by a crew member and had to have his right arm amputated as a result. He was subsequently captured and marched, shackled, to the gallows. A report in the April 27, 1901 San Francisco Chronicle in the wake of the execution in Clayton, New Mexico:

“Thomas E. Ketchum, alias ‘Black Jack,’ the notorious outlaw, who terrorized the people of the Southwest for the past fifteen years, was hanged here this afternoon for the last of his many crimes. His head was severed from the body by the rope as if by a guillotine. The headless trunk pitched forward toward the spectators and blood spurted upon those nearest the scaffold. The execution took place inside a stockade built for the occasion. The inclosure was crowded, 150 spectators having been admitted.

When Ketchum mounted the platform at 1:17 o’clock his face was very pale, but his eyes swept over the crowd coldly and boldly. A priest stood at his side as the rope was put around his neck. The condemned man had consented to this at the last moment. Ketchum declined to make a speech before the noose was put around his neck. He merely muttered ‘Good-by,’ then said ‘Please dig my grave very deep,’ and finally ‘All right; hurry up.’ His legs trembled, but he kept his nerve.

When the body dropped through the trap the half-inch rope severed the head as cleanly as if a knife had cut it. The body pitched forward, with blood spurting from the headless trunk. The head remained in the black sack and flew down into the pit. Some men groaned and others turned away, unable to endure the sight. For a few seconds the body was allowed to lie there, half doubled up on its right side, with the blood issuing in an intermittent stream from the severed neck as the heart kept on with its mechanical beating. Then, with cries of consternation, the officers rushed down from the scaffold and lifted the body from the ground.”

 

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From a 1902 edition of the Honolulu Commercial Advertiser:

“The base ball fever has struck the leper settlement and on the last visit the superintendent organized two teams and partially equipped them. The settlement ‘league’ has been formed and the two teams will swat the sphere during seven games, which have been proposed, and the winning team will capture the prize of $20, which is already subscribed.”

"Ed Powell and Jim Leper were hung in the jail yard yesterday afternoon." (Image by Robert Runyon.)

Scenes from a double execution in Texas from the September 30, 1891 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Gatesville, Tex.–Ed Powell and Jim Leper were hung in the jail yard yesterday afternoon at 2 o’clock. When the sheriff read the governor’s message to let the law take its course, Powell was silent, but Leper said, ‘Let her go.’

Mrs. Powell, young Powell’s mother, who left no stone unturned to secure a change in the sentence, hearing of the message became enraged and told the boys to die like men and pay no attention to religion; if there was a God, he was unjust.

Leper never lost his disposition to joke. He broke into a laugh when taking his seat on the platform. Both men spoke, protesting their innocence, saying they were not afraid to die, stopping at intervals to smoke.

Rev. John Bateman, a minister of Waco, said: ‘Let us pray,’ and the sheriff, prisoners and all on the plaform knelt in prayer. On rising to their feet, Powell said: ‘One thing I forgot. I feel my sins are forgiven, and I will go to heaven. I wish all of you wealth, health and prosperity, and after death may you go to heaven.’

Both men died with scarcely a struggle. Powell and Leper were hanged for the murder of John T. Mathiason, December, 1880, for the purpose of robbery. Powell’s mother is wealthy.”

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From the November 6, 1898 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Tattooed dogs are now the fashion in London. A coat of arms or a monogram is marked on the throat or breast of the animal. The process is made almost painless by the use of cocaine.”

"A search was made, but the neck could not be found." (Image by Thomas Eakins.)

Nineteenth-century autopsies were far from perfect, as evidenced by an article in the December 24, 1899 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle. An excerpt:

“It was discovered at the Manhattan Morgue yesterday that the neck of the headless man, found at the foot of Rutgers Street Tuesday last, is missing. It had been cut off Thursday when Dr. Philip O’Hanlon of the Coroner’s office performed an autopsy on the body. At that time Dr. Ferguson, the eminent pathologist was present, as was Dr. Schultz, former Coroner, and a number of medical students. Dr. O’Hanlon made a careful examination of the neck and, he said, found indentations on the cervical vertebra which were undoubtedly made by a knife. There were two or three on each side and, he said, he thought they had been made by a man who knew how to handle a surgeon’s knife.

"Dr. O'Hanlon then accused Embalmer Arthur Rooney of 336 East Twenty-fifth Street, who was standing by, of having taken the neck."

Dr. O’Hanlon called at the Morgue yesterday afternoon and asked to be shown the neck which had been removed from the body. A man went into the autopsy room, where the headless body and neck had been left, but he could not find it. A search was made, but the neck could not be found. Policeman Morell, who is in charge of the Morgue, said that Dr. O’Hanlon was the last in the room. Dr. O’Hanlon then accused Embalmer Arthur Rooney of 336 East Twenty-fifth Street, who was standing by, of having taken the neck. Rooney indignantly denied that he had done so and and he accused Dr. O’Hanlon of being the last in the room when the autopsy was made. It was thought that it had got mixed with some refuse and been thrown out. There was no suspicion at any time that the man had been murdered, but the loss of the portion is considered curious.”

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From the August 23, 1896 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Emil Befils, a young Arab attached to the Egyptian encampment at Bergen Beach was badly bitten by a bear belonging to the show yesterday afternoon. He took the beast to the board walk to make it dance. The bear was in an ugly humor and refused to perform. When Belfis poked the bear in the ribs with a heavy stick the animal, with a savage growl, went for the Arab’s leg and bit a piece out of it. The injured man was removed to Kings County hospital.”

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"It was the face of a handsome brunette just verging into womanhood."

The history of electrolysis has its origins in the 19th century, as evidenced by an article that ran in the September 20, 1885 Brooklyn Daily Eagle. An excerpt:

“It was the face of a handsome brunette just verging into womanhood. On her upper lip and slightly shading its scarlet hue, grew a dark, silken mustache that on a dude would have been cherished and cultivated as the choicest treasure on earth. Her head rested in a metal plate connected by a wire with a galvanic battery on the table. The doctor took up from the table at his elbow something that looked like an ebony pen staff. This also was connected with the battery. In the end was a very fine gold plated needle. The doctor looked cautiously over the young lady’s dainty little mustache, and at length, singling out a hair, inserted the point of the needle down by the hair bulb and, pressing a little spring in the handle, turned on the current from the battery.

"The doctor looked cautiously over the young lady's dainty little mustache."

When the electric current ran down the point of the little needle the young lady winced and clenched her hands, while the tears came to her eyes. This lasted only for a moment, for as soon as a little froth appeared around the needle it was removed and the hair dropped out. After forcing out about a dozen of the hairs on each side of the lip the doctor stopped. The young lady removed her head from the metal plate, wiped her face with a scented pocket handkerchief and tripped gayly to the mirror. She took a long glance of intense satisfaction and gleefully remarked that they would soon all be gone. Then she put on her hat and left, after having made an appointment for another sitting.

‘So you remove mustaches from young ladies who are unfortunate enough to have such hirsute adornments?’ remarked the reporter. ‘Will you tell me how it is done?’

‘The operation is not very new,’ was the reply. ‘It has been known and practiced for several years, especially in the East. The electric current decomposes the salt in the skin into acid, which goes to the metal plate and alkali, which accumulates around the needle and destroys the hair bulb so that the hair can never reappear. This method is also very useful in removing the ugly bristles that grow in moles, for the hairs are then large in size and few in number. It is only necessary to spend a few seconds on each hair, and but a few minutes on a dozen, after which a rest of several days is taken to allow the inflammation to disappear before undertaking any more.’”

From the July 10, 1902 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Newport, R.I.–Friends of Harry Lehr deny that he had entertained a monkey at dinner and declare that the story was a fabrication from beginning to end. He and they say that no monkey dressed in evening clothes or as nature has made him ever has sat among his guests.

Mrs. Lehr especially is indignant at the newspapers for publishing such a story and her friends say that they would not be surprised if she should determine to take legal action. It is known that the Lehrs feel keenly the edtorial comments made upon the incident.”

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"It is simply delicious."

If we are to believe what journalism tells us, people in Albany during the 19th century would go to slaughterhouses to drink the blood of freshly killed animals for its salubrious effects. From the September 18, 1881 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“A reporter of the Albany Evening Journal who has visited the abattoirs in that city, writes as follows of the persons who gather there to drink blood:

Several people, as soon as the throat was cut with sleeves uprolled and grasping a glass, hurried over to the hanging carcass and holding the goblets in turn under the ruby stream, filled their glasses and then drank of the steaming liquid. One, a middle aged man, seemed old in the business, for he threw the contents of the glass off at one draught. Another threw some salt in his glass before drinking, while another could hardly make up his mind whether or not to drink it. At last he shut his eyes and then after three or four efforts succeeded in downing about half a glassful. The reporter approached one of the butchers after he had finished dressing the carcass on which he was at work, and asked, ‘Do the same persons come every day?’ ‘No, they come two or three times a week on the average,’ was the reply. ‘Do any women ever come?’ ‘Yes, there used to be one young girl, but the last I saw of her she seemed to be getting fleshy and has stopped coming altogether.’

"It is richer than the richest of cream."

One of the invalids was then approached and asked, ‘How do you like blood drinking?’ ‘Well, I’ll tell you. At first when the doctor told me I would have to drink warm bullock’s blood or die, I told him that I preferred the latter, but I reconsidered my thought and came up to the slaughterhouse. I thought at first I could not touch it, and the sight of killing sickened me. But I soon overcame that feeling, and when I raised the first glass to my lips I spilt the contents over me. Next time I shut my eyes and drank it down. It tasted like rich milk, and if I kept my eyes shut, I would have not the known the difference.’ Another one of the drinkers was asked how it tasted. ‘How does it taste?’ said he. ‘It is richer than the richest of cream. It is simply delicious and a drink not to be compared with any potion extant. It is simply the elixir of life. You can feel its strength as it spreads through your veins. If it hadn’t been for its strengthening qualities I would have been dead three years ago.’”

The recent Secret Service fiasco in Colombia made me think about John Frederick Parker, one of the original Washington D.C. police officers, who was fired in 1868 for literally sleeping on the job. (He had earlier been acquitted of charges of dereliction of duty and visiting prostitutes.) It was in 1865, however, when Parker had the costliest lapse of his stumblefuck career. From an article about his death in the July 20, 1890 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“The one man in the world who could have prevented the assassination of President Lincoln is dead. John Fredrick Parker, born in Winchester, Va., came to Washington some time before the firing upon Fort Sumter and soon found employment upon the metropolitan police force. When in 1862 it was decided to strengthen the regular force of doorkeepers and watchmen at the White House with a squad of policemen, Parker was one of those selected. It thus happened that when President Lincoln and party entered the old Ford Theater on the night of Good Friday, 1865, they were accompanied by Parker as guard. He took the position at the door to the private box from which President Lincoln watched the performance, where he was expected to remain and prevent the entrance of every one except the members of the party. As the play proceeded Parker from his post could hear just enough of what was said on the stage to arouse his curiosity, and it was not long before he left the door and edged his way toward the auditorium. He finally took a seat in the orchestra, or ‘pit’ as it was then called, where he had scarcely settled himself when the whole audience was surprised by the report of a pistol shot. The assassin, Booth, had stealthily approached the door of the president’s private box, where, finding no one to challenge him, he entered unannounced and fired the fatal shot. There is no question in the minds of those who are familiar with the details that had Parker remained at his post Booth could never had taken President Lincoln unawares.”

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"He says that he will be a scorcher."

From the August 7, 1896 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“The Fat Men’s Bicycle Club, organized by Charles Schwalbach at his academy in the Hanson Place Armory, promises to afford considerable amusement. The latest to signify their intention of joining are Uncle Bill Schenck of Flatlands and John Trot of Bergen Street. Mr. Trot weighs 300 pounds, and he says that he will be a scorcher. Uncle Bill Schenck, who weighs 350 pounds, is one of the wealthiest residents of Flatlands, where he owns a large farm. His farming days are over, so he has plenty of time to devote to the wheel. He wants to be a trick rider.”

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From an 1891 edition of the Detroit Free Press:

“A singular freak of nature has manifested itself at Saratoga. Mrs. Francis originally had very black eyes and a beautiful head of very black hair. She is about 70 years old now, in good health and a rich widow. When she was about 50 her hair began to turn white, and in a few years the whole of it was as white as snow, and so remained until about a year ago, when it began to turn black again, and has now, without the use of any artifical means and purely as a freak of nature, almost wholly returned to its original color, and is as long and silky as when she was a young woman.”

 

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The one thing that doesn’t taste like chicken, apparently, is human. From an insane article in the October 24, 1885 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Washington, D.C.–In the Diocesan Conference of Colored Methodist Episcopal Preachers, which is being held here, Professor A.E. Soloder, a distinguished and highly educated cannibal, upon being introduced, said:

‘I am a native of the Fiji Islands, gentlemen, and I have eaten human flesh many a time. I was born a cannibal and I was accustomed to eat missionaries. In my early days I lived principally on roasted missionaries and boiled rice; but I have been a missionary myself these thirty-five years.’

‘What does human flesh taste like?’ inquired the bishop.

‘Pretty much like a mule,’ explained the distinguished stranger. ‘You can hardly tell the difference,’ said he, ‘between young monkey and squirrel, and boa constrictor is very much like missionary.’”

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From the October 26, 1893 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Robert Ritter of Hempstead, who caused the arrest of his wife on a charge of assault the day after she horsewhipped him in the street, has withdrawn the charge and the couple has wept, kissed and made up. The reconciliation was effected by a conference between counsel representing them in the assault case. Ritter and his wife have again established themselves in the Centre Street house, and it is stated that Mr. Clemments, Mrs. Ritter’s father, has agreed to keep away from them. To his interference the whole trouble is attributed.”

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The 1901 assassination of President William McKinley in Buffalo, New York, had a bizarre and tragic echo in Muncie, Indiana, soon thereafter. A short article from the September 20, 1901 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

Muncie, Ind.–Omer Peolee, aged 10, was fatally shot at Winchester last evening while posing as President McKinley at Buffalo for Emil Miller of the same age, who was the pretended anarchist in the case.

The lads were playmates and undertook to enact the Buffalo tragedy. Miller secured his brother’s rifle for the work. The ball passed almost through the child’s stomach and he will die. The parents are distracted.”

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McKinley inauguration, 1901:

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