From the December 12, 1885 New York Times:

“Bellaire, Ohio–Frederick Glatzer and Frederick Summers are coal diggers and reside with their families up Indian Run, a few miles from this city. What has made them notorious is the fact that they are fond of dog meat, and on occasions when the average mortal buys a turkey to celebrate with, these people kill a dog and roast it. Glatzer’s wife has not been in the country very long, but during the time she has lived here the family has had several dog roasts, and have made them very enjoyable occasions, and on Christmas expect to have another, at which a number of relatives will be present.”

“There is no such place anywhere.”

The infamous Wild West town of Deadwood was profiled in all its raffish, criminal, merciless glory in the the August 13, 1877 New York Times. An excerpt:

Deadwood is as lively as ever. It is a queer place. The man who ventured the remark that a fool and his money are soon parted must have had in his mind’s eye some such place as this. It is the sharpers’ paradise. The “tenderfoot” is here brought face to face with the ingenious bummer, the slick confidence man, the claim jumper, the land shark and the desperado, and he is a man of more than usual alertness who does not get ‘taken in’ somehow or other before he has been 24 hours in this sinful city. There is no such place anywhere. It shows up in its worst forms the ‘fast and flash’ American trait. A little over a year ago the site of this swarming camp was a part of the howling wilderness. To-day there are along the streets and up and down in the gulches, within a mile, over 10,000 people. Here is a city of 4,000 inhabitants, with a floating population of 2,000 more. About 1,500 houses and huts, and hundreds of tents up the hill-sides, an academy, church, two daily newspapers, four banks; 20 lawyers, physicians, dentists, artists; club-houses, theatres in full blast every night, the streets thronged with speculators, tramps, and bummers: gambling-hells open all day long, and ‘cappers’ on every corner watching for the next ‘victim’–such is a hasty glance at Deadwood. It is a place in which the few prey upon the many. You cannot buy anything for less than a quarter; your living costs you double what it would at Denver or Salt Lake City. You can’t step in any direction without facing some device for getting rid of your money. They have even got a “corner” on postage stamps and you must pay from a dime to a quarter for a three-cent stamp. It is no wonder that the thousands who come here with a few dollars in their pockets soon find themselves ‘dead broke’ and dependent upon the charity of the better class of people. It cannot be urged too strongly that poor men or men of small competence should stay away from Black Hills. It may not be out of the way for capitalists to come and look around; but let the poor man stay away. One of the business men here, seeing the condition of the hundreds who lay idle and penniless about the street, has the honesty to write to the Deadwood Times, for the benefit of ‘pilgrims,’ in which he says that the truth ought to be told. and the “tenderfeet” be advised to stay at home. I quote from his communication:

“There are thousands of men in the Hills who would be glad to work for their bread, or enough money to pay their way back home; but there is no employment for them. The placer claims are all taken up by the first comers, and the quartz leads are not yet sufficiently developed to require many laborers. I never saw so many sick-looking men in my life as I have seen in Deadwood. They come here without a cent in their pockets, expecting to gobble up gold by the bucketful, and they soon go away without a ‘flea in the ear.’ Now these pilgrims are not only fools in this ‘vain delusive world.’ They come here full of greedy expectation, but in 24 hours their gorgeous air castles have blown away into bubbles.”•

From the February 28, 1867 New York Times:

“Buffalo–Five dead bodies, two males, two females, and one newborn infant, were found by the Detective Police at the Grand Trunk Railroad depot this afternoon. They were shipped through the American Express Company for Ann Arbor, Mich. The bodies were packed  in flour barrels in a nude state, and had not been dead over a week. The bodies are now being cleansed of flour, and will be exposed for identification to-morrow morning. This city is wild with excitement to know whose relations have been thus desecrated by body snatchers.”

From the March 17, 1904 New York Times:

“While in a cage with three lions this afternoon, Alfred J.F. Perrins, the animal trainer, suddenly became insane. Soon after he entered the cage Perrins struck one of the lions a vicious blow and cried, ‘Why don’t you bow to me, I am God’s agent.’

Perrins then left the cage, leaving the door open and saying, ‘They will come out, as God is looking after them.’ He then stood on a box and called on the spectators to come and be healed, saying he could restore sight to the blind and hearing to the deaf, and heal any disease by a gift just received from God.

The lions started to leave the cage and the spectators fled. The cage door was slammed by a policeman, who arrested Perrins. Physicians announced Perrins hopelessly crazed on religion. He has been in show business thirty years , having been with Robinson, Barnum, and Sells.”

From the July 17, 1898 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“New York Manila News–The European residents here (in Manila) complain of a tendency to scruff, which develops after a short stay in this climate, but they are generally loth to adopt the national preventive. In the forests of Luzon are a great many monkeys, and there is a belief among the natives that stewed monkey is an unfailing cure for all cutaneous diseases. To the stranger in these islands the idea of eating monkey flesh may be very revolting, but, there are few dishes more delicate than the young monkey stuffed and baked, though it does look very much like a small baby.”

From the January 11, 1885 Brooklyn Daily Eagle, a story which originally appeared in the Wilson Echo of Kansas:

“A Barton County man has a living chicken without a head. Attempting to cut off a chicken’s head, the axe passed through the head of the chicken immediately in front of the ears, thus leaving a small portion of the brain attached to the neck. The chicken did not take this as an execution of his death warrant and got up and stood on his feet, to the astonishment of this would be executioner, who then contrived a plan to feed him by dropping food and drink into the thorax, which has so far proved a success. The chicken is now doing well.”

“Dead babies a few years ago were not an uncommon occurrence.”

Trash has always been full of treasure and those who won contracts to remove offal from districts of Brooklyn in the 1800s checked the refuse closely for riches before chucking it, because you never knew what was going to turn up. And it was no different in London. From the July 4, 1886 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“‘You would be surprised,’ sad a well known offal contractor to an Eagle reporter recently, ‘at the large number of valuables found in the city’s dumping grounds. Although the men in charge of the dumps deny that anything of value is ever found, I can vouch that they don’t always tell the truth. Miscellaneous articles, such as silver teaspoons, knives and forks, shoes and clothing, in good and bad condition, are picked up daily, but it frequently happens that gold watches and diamonds are among the valuables found. Dead babies a few years ago were not an uncommon occurrence. In the government grounds ten cents is charged for each load dumped. Articles of an unusual character are only found in the ashes and swill refuse. Ladies washing dishes will drop rings in the swill, and by the time they have missed them the swill will be on its way either to the dumping grounds or the piggeries. Diamonds, from earrings and rings, are lost in the same manner.

In London, the contract for examining ashes and swill is awarded to the highest bidder. The method employed by the contractor to ascertain whether any articles of value are contained in the rubbish is a novel one. The carts are dumped on a screen, which, after having become filled, is elevated into the air. A dozen men dressed in rubber suits, without pockets, are set to work on the screen. These men go over the ashes and the offal carefully, and in case anything valuable is found it is turned over at once to the contractor and superintendent. As the workers wear pocketless clothing they can secure nothing about their persons. After all the ashes have been thoroughly screened they are covered and a new lot examined.”

From the August 1, 1890 New York Times:

“Plainfield, N.J. – Mary Goldsmith, who died near Plainfield a day or two ago in consequence, it is supposed, of a too free drinking of milk, was a cook employed on Gen, Schwenck’s large dairy farm, Holly Grove, on the Park Avenue Road. She was a middle-aged woman and had been in Gen. Schwenck’s service for some time.

She became very fond of the fresh milk, and drank it warm as it came from the cows morning and evening. The family cannot say how much she drank a day, but they think she must have consumed three or four gallons. She grew stout, but seemed to be in perfect health till within a day or two of her death. Then she complained of pains around her heart. She finally suffered so much that she was forced to her bed, and died a few hours later.”

From the January 12, 1902 New York Times:

“Phoenix, Ariz.–’Padre,’ a big medicine man of the Yuma Indians, who lives on a reservation near Yuma, Ariz., has been offered as a sacrifice to the spirit in accordance with the custom of his tribe and has expiated the sins of the tribe, which are held responsible for an epidemic of smallpox.

The medicine man learned several days ago of the intention of the Indians to sacrifice him, and fled to the mountains. Being half starved he returned to the Indian village and pleaded for mercy. He was bound hand and foot and conveyed by a squad of Indians to Mexico, where he was bound to a tree and tortured to death.

‘Padre’ had a warm place in the hearts of his tribesmen, but their customs required them to make a heavy sacrifice.”

“The beauty of it is that there is a large stock to choose from.”

Before every infant was required by law to be accounted for by public authorities, “baby farms,” unlicensed businesses where newborns, often the unwanted offspring of prostitutes, exchanged hands for a profit via shadowy doorstep adoptions, were prevalent. These babies were not often cared for well as they awaited “purchase,” and the ones who perished were usually buried surreptitiously on the grounds of the farms. It was a dark practice that led to numerous shocking scandals. One such adoption story which had an odd twist was covered in perplexingly upbeat fashion in the February 18, 1891 Brooklyn Daily Eagle. An excerpt:

“What is known as the ‘baby farm’ is not an entirely modern institution. Nor has it escaped its share of criticism; but it serves one excellent purpose in supplying babies at small cost to lonely couples which Providence has not blessed with children. The beauty of it is that there is a large stock to choose from and it is just as easy to obtain a bouncing little girl, with the customary blue eyes and golden hair, as it is to acquire title to a rosy, roaring and frolicsome boy. It is with keen appreciation of these advantages that Mrs. Huber of Lorimer street, this city, negotiated for a baby warranted to give satisfaction and, having taken it home, succeeded in convincing her husband that the visitor was his son and heir. Mr. Huber appears to be one of those gentle, confiding creatures who are quite willing to believe that the moon is made of green cheese, and it is absolutely certain that he would still be celebrating his newly acquired dignity as a ‘parent’ had not an unlooked for incident disturbed the serenity of his repose.

A few days after the appearance of the crowing youngster at the Lorimer street domicile, Mr. Huber was surprised to find his quarters invaded by strangers. There was a hack in front of the door, and upstairs, in his wife’s room, was a dashing young woman who, strange to say, made claim to Mr. Huber’s baby, and announced her intention to take it away with her, kindly promising, however, to leave another infant in its place. It is, of course, unnecessary to submit that Mr. Huber did not immediately recognize the young woman as the mother of his child, and after settling this point to his own satisfaction, came to the conclusion that he was harboring a lunatic. It was in vain that he appealed to Mrs. Huber. That estimable person, instead of becoming highly indignant at the unexpected turn of affairs, was disposed to accept the situation in a philosophical mood, and sat on the edge of the sofa closely studying the pattern of the carpet. Finally the truth was told, and Mr. Huber then had the pleasure of ascertaining that while Mrs. Watson Schermerhorn had changed her mind and wanted her baby back, Mrs. Kate Burke, polite and obliging as she was, was willing to let her baby be exchanged for it.

We do not believe that people will be disposed severely to blame the wife for the deception of which she was guilty, because her desire to be proud possessor of a prattling baby was really pathetic. It was the consuming passion of her life, for, as she innocently puts it, ‘there can be no happiness when there is no baby.’ But would it not have been advisable to consult the husband before surreptitiously introducing the stranger into the household?”

From the December 9, 1883 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

“Mobeetie (Texas) Panhandle–Jim Kelly, cow puncher, of Greer County, has been here for a few days. He is funning himself up a lot, and his contorting smile is frequent.”