“His condition was filthy in the extreme.”

Members of the Lunacy Commission popped in on the hovel of a wealthy, naked pack rat one fine day and uncovered a remarkable story, as recounted in an article in the August 18, 1871 New York Times, which was apparently published before the invention of paragraph breaks:

“In the report of the Commissioners in Lunacy, just issued, an extraordinary case is mentioned in the list of lunatics found under illegal charge. It appears that the Commissioner, having learned that a gentlemen reputed to be wealthy, and about thirty-five years of age, whom they designate as Mr. A—, was living for ten years in seclusion at the chief hotel in B—, made inquiry which showed that such a person actually existed, that the manager of the hotel alone had access to him, and that his acts were scarcely consistent with sanity. Very soon one of the medical members of the Board, accompanied by the Secretary, paid a visit to the hotel, and inquired for Mr. M—, the manager. This person was not forthcoming, and, consequently, the doctor and his attendant made their way upstairs, and were going toward the apartments which they understood were occupied by Mr. A—, when they found the manager in the ante-room. Mr. M—, it seems, begged for delay; but the doctor, pushing him aside, opened a door, and speedily found himself in an inner and perfectly dark room, whence came a voice like that of a man under surprise and in alarm, demanding repeatedly what was the matter. Lights were obtained, and the visitors then saw what was before them. From wall to wall the room was literally blocked up with a mass of furniture and rubbish, from the midst of which emerged the head of a middle-aged and dark-bearded man. A single tortuous lane through this lumber led toward him, and the doctor had to pick his way over broken glass and crockery, bundles of candles, old clothes, parcels of stale biscuits, and other indescribable rubbish. No fire was in the grate, and, a curtain being drawn across the window, no daylight was visible. Behind a table, covered with bags of stuff, lay Mr. A— on a small, broken-down horsehair sofa, closely hemmed in on every side. He was enveloped with a rug, but without any other clothing. His condition was filthy in the extreme; his beard was upward of two feet long, the lower two-thirds being inextricably matted with filth and full of vermin. His hair was even more matted and dirtier than the beard, especially on each side over the ears, being in this condition even more than a foot in length. On his feet were some pieces of American cloth, under which was an admixture of filthy rags, paper and refuse tied with numerous strings about his toes, feet and ankles, the condition of which was extremely loathsome. The great toe nails were an inch and a half in length. The finger nails were also enormously long, and with the hands were very offensive to the sight. His legs, from being kept in one position, had become rigid, forming nearly a right angle with the thigh, and resisting the extension, although there appeared to be no swelling or tenderness. The face of the extraordinary person was pale and haggard; but his body, though emitting a powerfully-disagreeable odor, was fairly nourished. He had not washed for years, and though abundance of clothes was lying about the room, he had made no effort to get them. With all these strange appearances, however, Mr. A— appeared to be perfectly sane, and was able to give a rational account of himself, and the reason which had brought him there. In fact, his gentlemanly demeanor most strangely contrasted with horrible condition he was in, and made the sight more painful. The doctor soon ascertained that Mr. A— was possessed not only of the large estates, but a life interest of upward of $100,000; that some ten years ago he had gradually sunk into a nervous condition, which caused him to fancy that people regarded him as a lunatic, and he resolved to shut himself up away from the world. Taking rooms at the hotel, he gradually became more determined in his resolve; and then, having made arrangements with the manager, Mr. M—, to supply him with food, he changed his residence to the apartment where he was now discovered, and from that time had allowed no one to visit him. In this way he had existed for years, until the state of the room he was lying in, and particularly one adjoining, was such that the doctors and others who visited the place professionally express their astonishment that typhus fever had not been generated long ago. From what he said, he would gladly have left his place of seclusion some years since, and he was continually mourning the fact of his being shut out of the world, but the prevailing idea on his mind seemed to be that to accomplish this he must have someone to help him, and Mr. M— appears to have offered him no assistance. Frequently when he heard people talking below his windows he had exclaimed, ‘Oh, God! when shall I be assisted out of this state, and be able to mix again with the world.’ He seemed very anxious to know whether the doctor considered him out of his mind, saying that, although he was laboring under a delusion when he took up his residence at the hotel, he was now perfectly sane, quite disgusted with the state of affairs, and determined that if any attempt were made to show him insane he would spend his whole fortune to prove the contrary. He was very shortly afterward removed in a cab to the neighboring asylum, and there placed in a chair, in which he appeared unable to sit upright, but cowered down with his head bent over his knees, drawing at the same time a large piece of baize over him, concealing his features, which, when exposed, were nervously agitated. Upon his hair being cut, he begged earnestly that no one might be allowed to see it, or the old rags with which he had covered himself. He was afterward placed in a bath, where he proceeded to cleanse himself vigorously, and then being put to bed, some warm brandy and water was given him. Although he at first refused to take proper food, he gave way very soon to the advice of those under whose care he was placed, and expressed his great desire to and in any means which might be adopted for endeavoring to restore the power and motion to his stiffened joints. Although at first his statements were somewhat incoherent, his powers of memory appeared remarkably good, and his conversation was, as a rule, marked by intelligence and shrewdness of mean order. The only semblance of delusion was the idea–frequently repeated by him–that it was necessary to have someone of stronger will than his own which he found inadequate to assist in resuming his position in society. His great regret appeared to be that he had not met with the doctor who first visited him ten years ago, as he said that he only needed a little help to have been enabled to conquer the disposition to seclusion which eventually overcame him. After he had been under medical treatment for some time, and it was found that he was in no way insane. Mr. A— was allowed to leave the asylum, he being exceedingly anxious to go out into the world again. It is not stated in the report which was issued July 23 whether proceedings of any sort were taken against M—, the manager of the hotel.”

From the August 28, 1900 New York Times:

Chicago–Samuel Haynes, sixty-five years old, an inmate of the Hospital for the Insane at Kankakee, walked into the river yesterday and was drowned. Haynes was well known as ‘Senyah,’ the trapee performer. He introduced the flying trapeze act, first presenting it at the old Crosby Opera House. Being injured by a fall, he became a printer, later attempting other ventures, all of which failed. About two years ago he showed symptoms of insanity and was removed to the asylum at Kankakee.”

“A snake pursuing a rat across a dark cellar is not a sight to steady one’s nerves.”

If your city is plagued by rats, the best thing to do is loose a lot of snakes upon them. Then you can have a city plagued by fewer rats and many fat snakes. An excerpt from an article in the August 23, 1903 New York Times about the burgeoning snake-extermination industry:

“New York is almost as rat-ridden a town as the one which the famous Pied Piper cleared of with his marvelous flute; but the work of destroying them is carried on so persistently and scientifically that the rodents are never allowed to gain unmanageable headway. During the rainy weather, however, when the rivers back up into the cellars of the wharf houses and docks, the rats are driven up from their holes in such numbers that one might think a plague of the creatures had suddenly visited New York. At such times the rat-killers are called upon to make extra exertions in destroying them, and every ferret in the town is in active operation. These ferrets are trained to their work, but they are not always able to penetrate  the lowest strongholds of the rats, where their nests are built. Hence it is that new broods are brought forth every season, and the supply is kept up indefinitely.

One of the latest methods of destroying the young of the rats is to train snakes for the work. A good-sized snake can wriggle in almost any hole that a small rat will enter. A snake is too quick for a rat to escape, and when he strikes it is sure death for the rodent. The average snake prefers young rats to large ones, and he will go hunting for the delicate morsels to the neglect of the parents. A good trained snake will smell a nest of young rats a long distance off, and once the scent is taken up it is never dropped until the prey is captured.

Black snakes, garter snakes, grass snakes, and common garden snakes all make good rat catchers, but it requires an expert to train them. If turned loose in a warehouse the average snake will take to the first rat hole, but he will not return to his owner again. It is the retrieving that makes the snake valuable. 

MUST BE TRAINED YOUNG

‘We train snakes when they are very young,’ explained one of the pioneers in this new industry. ‘We started in first to rid our own establishment of mice and rats. We found that one good black snake could gorge himself with more mice than the best cat, and day after day he would return to the chase. A snake brought up on mice and rats acquires a great taste for them, and as he grows older his capacity increases. I have had black snakes in my bunch that would average six or seven young rats a day, and would never tire of the diet. With half a dozen snakes one can clean a house of young rats in a short time.

‘It is quite impossible to train an old snake to return willingly, but we can induce them to enter traps baited with young rats after they have cleaned out a building. In this way it is possible to secure good results without much previous preparation.

‘One of the disadvantages about using snakes for this work is that the building must be shut up overnight, and sometimes for several days, so the snakes themselves cannot escape. This is all right in some warehouses where no work is going on sometimes for weeks at a time. We can go in where there is stored grain or freight and take complete possession of the building. We let the snakes operate there for days and nights in succession. We won’t see anything of the reptiles, it may be, for nearly a week, and then one by one they will crawl back from the holes and hunt around in the opening for prey. We know then that the rats are pretty well cleaned up, and the snakes are hunting for new pastures.

‘We frequently turn snakes loose in cellars of stores and then shut down the doors, warning all the occupants of the building to keep out of the way. Of course some officious janitor will sometimes break the rules and penetrate the cellar, and if he isn’t frightened out of his wits by the snakes it is the fault of his nerves. A snake pursuing a rat across a dark cellar is not a sight to steady one’s nerves. If baffled in his work by the intrusion of any one the black snake will more than likely turn upon the intruder and hiss at him. The reptile is harmless, but his appearance and attitude are not pleasant.

‘We were ordered to clean out the rats from a down-town candy store one day this Summer when the building was being overhauled. Most of the packing and candy-making girls were away for their two weeks’ vacation, and the ferrets and the snakes had full possession of the building. Now snakes and rats are both fond of sweet things. In that cellar there were a score or two of nests, and the young rats offered a great feast to the snakes.

SNAKES FOND OF SUGAR

‘But after cleaning out the young rats the snakes were perfectly contented to stay in the cellar. Plenty of candy had been carried into the holes by the rats, and the wrapping paper and boxes were also saturated with sugar. In fact, the whole cellar was sweet, fairly reeking with sugar, chocolate and sweetmeats. There was enough to last the snakes for months, and they just stayed in the holes gorging themselves with candy and sugar. 

‘We had pretty hard work to entice them from their holes. Somebody suggested milk, and we tried this, and sure enough they did visit a pan of milk every night. I don’t know what for, as I have never seen a snake drink milk yet. They simply did, and we managed to capture them in this way. They would swim around in the milk can, and we could stand by and catch them.”

From the March 12, 1886 New York Times:

Philadelphia–While Frank Murgatroyd was in bed early this morning he was seized with a violent spell of sneezing. The family was aroused, and everything was done for the man’s relief that could be thought of. The sneezing was kept up with unabated vigor, however, and before medical aid could reach him, Murgatroyd was a corpse. It is supposed that he ruptured a blood vessel.”

“Their food gave out and for days they lived on rose buds,”

A prospecting party lost its way, most of the miners lost their minds and one, his humanity. From the April 13, 1883 New York Times:

“Denver, Col.–The trial of Alfred G. Packer, charged with having murdered his five companions in San Juan County in 1872, in progress at Lake City for the last few days, was concluded to-night, and the case was given to the jury. The evidence shows that a party of six was organized in Southern Utah in 1872 to prospect in Southern Colorado. While in the vicinity of the present site of Lake City a blinding storm came on and the party lost their way. Their food gave out and for days they lived on rose buds. The men became desperate, and some of them went crazy. While his companions were in this condition Packer deliberately fell upon and butchered the whole party, and for several weeks lived on flesh cut from their bodies. During the trial yesterday Packer calmly made a statement taking two hours for its delivery. He related the experience of the party from their setting out from Utah, closing with the most sickening details of the murder and his subsequent feasting on human flesh. He claims that the killing was done in self-defense. The evidence showed that each member of the party, except Packer, possessed quite a large amount of money, upon which Packer has since been living. After nine years wandering he was captured a few weeks ago near Fort Fetterman, Wyoming. While the evidence is entirely circumstantial, yet it is deemed conclusive. A verdict of guilty is confidently expected.”

From the October 25, 1891 New York Times:

Kalamazoo, Mich.–Three lads named Collins and Pfeiffer have been accused by the Very Rev. Frank A. O’Brien of St. Augustine’s Church of crucifying a cat. The boys will not confess, and their parents, who believe them innocent, have withdrawn them from the parochial school. The boys were playing ‘Ober-Ammergau,’ and nailed the feet of the cat to a cross. The tail, interfering, was cut off, and then nailed on. Mrs. Collins says that she was ordered out of the Deanery because she denied the statement that her son had taken part in the crucifixion. Humane Agent Merrill is investigation the affair.”

“Those of the neighbors who had young sons and daughters set about to rid the village of the evangelist and his followers.”

A charismatic if questionable vegetarian cult leader with an oddly spelled surname descended upon a New Jersey town toward the end of the 19th century and general oddness and attempted fraud ensued. From the April 25, 1893 New York Times:

“Hackensack, N.J.–Nine religious fanatics were taken to the Hackensack (N.J.) jail this afternoon and placed in charge of Sheriff Albert Bogert.

The leader is Hunstman T. Mnason, the well-known evangelist, who has been in jail before, once for enticing two young girls to leave their homes and join his religious band.

Four years ago Mnason settled in Park Ridge on the New-Jersey and New-York Railroad, and at once set about to form a band to praise God in his own peculiar way.

He became acquainted with the family of Herman Storms, a rich farmer, whose property is valued at $10,000. The farmer did not like the new arrival, but the new religious habits were forcibly impressed upon Mrs. Maria Storms, her son Garry, and daughter Mary, both past their teens. Jane Howell, Mrs. Minnie Stewart, and Eliza Berry were also induced to join the band.

Lately the band was increased by two long-haired men, who called themselves ‘Silas’ and ‘John the Baptist.’ The neighbors noticed that the newcomers worked on Sunday, and about twice a month held what was called an ‘angel dance.’ All were scantily robed and waved a huge blanket with which to drive away the devil.

Those of the neighbors who had young sons and daughters set about to rid the village of the evangelist and his followers. 

A short time ago three of them were arrested for working on Sunday, and two served four days in the Hackensack jail for the offense.

To-day the whole band was arrested, charged with conspiring to cheat and defraud Herman Storms out of his property. The agreement had been drawn up by which Garry Storms was to have the property and the elder Storms should receive $100 and board and clothing for the remainder of his days. All were to meet in Justice W.B. Smith’s office at Park Ridge this afternoon, and witness the signature to the agreement, but they were all placed under arrest and got a hearing immediately afterward.

The affadavit, in part, states:

‘The conspirators, deny, ridicule, and curse all regular religion and religious customs, recognize no Sabbath, and set up a false god of their own, declaring the said Mnason to be the only true and living God, in consequence of which the household of Herman Storms has been put under a petty and grinding despotism, under the dogmatic rule of Huntsman T. Mnason, aided and abetted by his said co-conspirators, wherein unseemly revelry often occurs and disorder reigns, and the laws of society, religion, and State are defied and reviled, to the scandal of the neighborhood and great injury to public morals.’

Several testified against the evangelists at the hearing before Justices Smith and Wortendyke.

Herman Storms testified that Mnason refused to have meat in the house and also refused to allow him the use of his own wagons and horses. The witness gave a vivid sketch of the angel dance.

He said that Mnason ordered the women to get up on the breakfast table and dance around the eatables before food was partaken. Though the property was to be transferred to Garry, Mrs. Storms’s son, it was generally believed that Mnason would soon have secured control and ownership of it.”

From the August 5, 1899 New York Times:

“Mount Holly, N.J.–Frederick W. Pope, the fourteen-year-old son of Charles A. Pope of Columbus, is paralyzed hopelessly as a result of an application of cocaine by a dentist, and has lost the power of speech. Seven weeks ago the lad suffered from a severe toothache and went to a dentist to have the tooth extracted . It was necessary because of the lad’s nervous condition for the dentist to administer some drug. He used cocaine to relieve the pain.

A short time after the tooth was pulled paralysis set in on the right side of the body. It was thought by the physicians that the attack would pass away and leave the lad unharmed. Yesterday the boy was stricken speechless. Several physicians have examined him, and all agree that the case is a hopeless one. The general opinion is that the cocaine went to the brain.”

“To poison’s one neighbor then was all the fashion.”

On the slowest news day in the history of the printed word, the New York Times published an article about poisoning in 16th-century France. The December 29, 1907 piece:

“Paris–Apropos of Sardou’s new play at the Theatre St. Martin, ‘L’Affair des Poisons,’ a cabled synopsis of which has already appeared in the New York Times, boulevard historians are writing much nowadays about the vogue which poisoning enjoyed during the sixteenth century. To poison’s one neighbor then was all the fashion.

L’Estoile, writing of this in his journal, estimated that in 1572 no fewer than 30,000 persons were mixing noxious compunds in Paris alone. As the population of the city at that time only numbered about 300,000, one out of every ten Parisians was a poisoner. Contemporaneous writers tell weird tales of the methods employed.

It appears that a perfumed glove or the prick of a jeweled ring could be as deadly as a blunderbuss. Only the common horde put poison in food. Some dilettantes of the craft put their ‘cruel venoms on a horse’s saddle,’ so one writer says, and the cavalier was doomed. Another amateur acquired such singular address in his art that all he had to do was to rub his concoction into the stirrup of the man he wished to kill. Riding boots were about an inch thick in those days, but the victim only a few minutes after mounting ‘felt his limbs convulse, his blood burn,’ and so he died.

Kings, Princes, prelates and other high personages whose taking off would cause somebody’s advancement were regarded as legitimate prey. But panic was spread by them to the lowest classes. Thus, according to the author of the ‘Memoires de l’Estat de France sous Francois II,’ peasants for twenty leagues round hid their children when they heard that the royal family was about to come their way.

“The tip of a stag’s tail and the brain of a cat are specimen ingredients of some of the concoctions.”

They feared that the King’s relatives would steal their little ones for the sake of their blood, children’s blood being necessary to a ‘venom’ of sufficient strength to affect the royal health. The habit of stealing children for this purpose was attributed especially to the Italians living in France, and the chronicles of the time are full of accounts of lynchings which such accusations inspired.

Catherine de Medicis, whose Italian nativity was doubtless to blame for many of the stories told about her, was commonly believed to be something of a witch. It was represented that her favorite companions were her perfumer, René, and her astrologer, Cosme Rugieri. She was believed to mix with her own hands, eternally gloved, the deadliest powders and pastes.

But while many of the poisons used in this murderous epoch were doubtless effective enough, some of them were of a nature to give the intended victim the reputation of bearing a charmed life. The tip of a stag’s tail and the brain of a cat are specimen ingredients of some of the concoctions. And according to Ambroise Paré, the bite of a red-headed man, ‘especially if he be freckled,’ was almost as bad as the bite of an adder.

Against all these evils they possessed, fortunately, admirable antidotes. Precious stones, especially the sapphire, were far more useful in warding off evil in those days than they are now. Nuts and dried figs also nullified any ordinary poison. And if those proved impotent, there was always that heroic remedy or splitting open a horse or an ox and getting inside.”

From the November 9, 1897 New York Times:

“St. Petersburg--A terrible famine is ravaging the Province of Archangel, a Government of European Russia in the extreme north, extending from the Ural Mountains on the east to Finland on the West. The people wander about reduced almost to skeletons, their heads swollen to the size of buckets. Tea is the only means of subsistence.”