Ideas and technology and politics and journalism and history and humor and some other stuff.
You are currently browsing the archive for the Old Print Articles category.
From the May 23, 1884 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Galveston, Tex.–A dispatch from Vernon, Tex., says: ‘A cowboy rode into a ranch near here yesterday and without any warning shot three times into the beds occupied by his comrades, killing one instantly, while another died within a few hours after. He claims the shooting was accidental. The coroner is now making an investigation. He will probably be lynched.'”
From the August 22, 1893 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Officer Madigan of the Myrtle Avenue court squad had an exciting time yesterday afternoon when he went out to the piggery district, on the the boundary of Flatbudh, to secure Annie Wilson, 10 years old, whom, it was claimed by the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children, was not properly cared for by her grandmother, Mrs. Mary Cursel, with whom she was living. When the officer started with Annie from the hovel a mob of twenty or thirty women threw stones at him and tried to rescue the child. He took her safely, however, to the society’s office and in court this mornings he was sent to St. Joseph’s Home.”
From the October 12, 1885 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“St. Paul, Min.–There is considerable excitement in Belgrado, this county, in a settlement of Swedes, over a case of what they believe is witchcraft. A woman has been sick for three years and accuses her aunt of being a witch and causing her sickness. The Swedish Church has had a trial, and witnesses solemnly testify to a belief in witches and state what they had seen in this particular case. The statement was made by one woman that she was posted in witchcraft and had seen witches send the craft off through the air and seen it strike persons who were soon after taken sick. What will be done with the alleged witch has not been determined.”
Dracula is of course one of the most famous literary characters ever created, delivered from Bram Stoker’s dark consciousness deeply into our own. Neither Industrial nor Technological Revolutions have been able to erase his vision. It’s not likely you’ve missed the Google Doodle commemorating Stoker’s 165th birthday today. Here’s an excerpt from the first notice of the Irish theater manager’s novel in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, from the January 15, 1900 issue:
“Dracula by Bram Stoker is the name of a book from the pen of the accomplished manager of the Lyceum Theater, London, and of the dramatic companies headed by Sir Henry Irving and Ellen Terry. The publishers are the Doubleday & McClure Company, New York, and the chaste and attractive work of the printer and binder is a worthy setting of the clear thought, the weird imagination and the reverential spirit of a volume of originality, interest and power. The story has been issued both in Great Britain and American for several weeks, but more than acknowledgment for its appearance has not yet been made in many quarters, for it requires, while it rewards, very careful reading, since its point of view is novel, profound and startling.
‘The Quick and the Dead’–long before, ages before it was the title of an essentially cheap and brief lived story in these states, the product of erotic fancies and anaemic thinking–became the comprehensive summary of the two divisions of humanity which, according to the creed, are to be arraigned at the final assize. The term was thought to be all embracing. Mr. Stoker adds to ‘The Quick and the Dead’ a third lot, whom he calls, for want of a better word, the ‘un-Dead.’ They comprise the vampire class. If not as a whole, at least as many of them are affected by a relation to the race of man. The ‘un-Dead’ are inanimate and powerless by day. They are viciously effective and malignly mobile by night. Of the number of them the book gives neither statement nor intimation. It deals with a housed or castled small colony of them in a mountain fastness of Transylvania, of whom the chief is the Count Dracula, who gives name to the book, a ‘tall man with a long brown beard, very bright eyes, which seemed red in the lamplight; a hard-looking mouth, with very red lips and sharp looking teeth, white as ivory; prodigious strength, his hand actually seemed like a steal vise.’ This he appeared when he whisked the main character up a mountain side to his rocky lair–the proper word is undoubtedly lair. But he is a lightning change artist, and the foregoing description was true of him only when he was acting as his own coachman. In his revealed person, the one in which he figures throughout the book, he is thus described:
‘His face was a strong– a very strong aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round his temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy mustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.”
Tags: Bram Stoker
“It is not suspected that there is anything wrong connected with the finding.”
From the May 17, 1881 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“About eleven o’clock yesterday morning, a little girl entered the Butler Street Station House and reported that Mrs. Mary Spencer, living at No. 52 Wyckoff Street, had found a skeleton in a box in her house. Sergeant Cadden detailed Officers Lowe and Smith to make an investigation. The found a skeleton skull and thigh bones in a box addressed to Mr. E.B. Chamberlain, who had hired apartments from Mrs. Spencer, and whose intention it was to take up his residence in her house to-morrow morning. Chamberlain is employed in a wholesale liquor store at No. 75 New Street, New York. The box came from Delaware. Mr. Chamberlain has not yet been seen by the police, but it is not suspected that there is anything wrong connected with the finding of the skeleton in his room. The gentleman is spoken of as being exemplary in his habits, although a full explanation will have to be forthcoming as to how the skull and bones come into his possession.”
Tags: Mr. E.B. Chamberlain, Mrs. Mary Spencer, Officer Lowe, Officer Smith, Sergeant Cadden
From the July 26, 1866 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Michigan–We are indebted to Dr. William Elliott of this place, for a description of a double child, born in this village, having one head with two faces, two noses, four eyes, two mouths and two chins. The faces are right opposite each other. Among the many freaks of nature on record, we believe this is the most wonderful known. The fetus has been carefully preserved and will, we understand, be deposited in the museum of the medical department of the University of Michigan.”
Tags: Dr. William Elliott
From the July 5 1899 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“The indelicacy of the police of the Fulton Street station in interfering with the morning ablutions of a woman made Mary Sheridan much more indignant than she was over the simple fact that she had been placed under arrest and hauled before Magistrate Brenner in the Adams Street court this morning. The fact that the ablutions in question had been daily made by Mary at the horse trough on Washington Street, near the bridge, had suggested to the police the necessity of doing something about her case. They had tried to drive her away, for she seemed to be otherwise a very harmless person. She never got tipsy and her inherent cleanliness under other conditions would be commendable. Mary would not be driven away. The habit of washing at the horse trough had become too strong and there was nothing to do about it after a while but to arrest her as a vagrant.”
Tags: Magistrate Brenner, Mary Sheridan
From the April 5, 1885 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Philadelphia–A subject, apparently a young girl of 15, appeared for a clinical operation at Jefferson Medical College a short time ago. The patient wore short dresses, looked like a young school miss, and had the manners of a girl. The trouble with the patient was an inability to retain secretions of the kidneys. Dr. W.H. Pancoast made an examination and discovered two exceedingly interesting facts: First, that his subject was not, as the parents had always supposed, a girl, but a boy, and that he had been born minus a bladder. The doctor then proceeded to supply an artificial bladder, a surgical feat first accomplished by his father many years ago and now not an uncommon operation. But the parents refused to credit the facts recited by the doctor and would not keep the subject in boy’s attire, dressed in which the professor had returned him to them. A further operation was made at the request of the parents. That was done last week, and so fully developed the other organs that doubt was no longer possible. The lad has been given a boy’s name in exchange for the female one with which he was christened.”
Tags: Dr. W.H. Pancoast
“The man daily sells wild beasts as placidly as if he sold tea and sugar.”
Private zoos of more than a century ago existed on both sides of the Atlantic, though the ones in the UK seem to have been the wildest. A report of these unregulated menageries from the London Daily Mail that was republished in the November 17, 1901 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“‘Can I sell you a nice little armadillo, sir? They’re great favorites now, and the price of that armor-plated beauty is only £2. Or if you prefer something larger for your money here is a striped hyena. We call him Dan Leno. Ten pounds is the price. Listen to him laugh. It’s quite catching, isn’t it?’
And the man who daily sells wild and fearsome beasts as placidly as if he sold tea and sugar, chuckled in sympathy with the snarling, gibbering brute that showed its teeth between the bars of the cage. The Daily Mail representative was not buying hyenas that morning.
The attempted ‘deal’ took place at one of four private zoos in London, where the animal lover may purchase as a domestic pet almost anything that crawls, creeps or flies. For £25 down and the balance on delivery he can have a full-fledged rhinoceros capable of demolishing a fairly sized jerry-built villa, or he can stock the fountain basin on his lawn with young alligators, which at £15 each are regarded as extremely cheap today.
“It was a common sight to see ladies leading little lemurs or baby pumas along the streets in the same way that they lead pet dogs.”
The man who dislikes his next-door neighbor can derive satisfaction and amusement by allowing a few Indian pythons to roam about promiscuously. Six feet of python are obtainable for £2. In the capacity of peacemaker and healer of neighborly differences the python should be invaluable in the suburbs.
Then there is the gentleman in the Highbury District who keeps four or five different kinds of lemurs, while until recently a young man who occupied a flat in another suburb kept a leopard, which used to run about the rooms and curl itself up on his knees like an overgrown cat. That leopard is now no more. It was accidentally suffocated, but the residents of the flat now breathe with more freedom than they did before. Pumas are the favorite pets of a Kensington lady, whose name and address are withheld at the request of the dealer who supplies the animal.
With the spread of the taste for strange and curious pets has come a corresponding diversity in the character of the four-footed passengers in London streets. Last summer it was a common sight to see in the West End ladies leading little lemurs or baby pumas along the streets in the same way that they lead pet dogs. This summer it is probable that the spectacle will become still more common, judging from the number of orders received at the various depots for baby pets of this description. Full grown animals of a dangerous type have not yet obtained the liberty of the footpath, but perhaps they will do so some day, and London will, in one respect at least, be reminiscent of primitive times.”
From the November 17, 1892 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Decatur, Ala.–During the Democratic celebration last night a sky rocket exploded prematurely and struck Miss Jones, a beautiful young lady, aged 16 years, in the left eye. It pierced the eyeball and penetrated the brain causing instant death. The accident broke up the celebration.”
Tags: Miss Jones
From the January 29 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“New Albany, Ind.–Patrick McCarty, living at Hamburg, Clark County, had a narrow escape from being buried alive. He had been ill with the grip for several days and to all appearances died yesterday. The remains were prepared for burial and a coffin was ordered. While waiting for the undertaker to arrive, Mrs. McCarty was startled by seeing the body slightly move. The other members of the family were summoned and by the use of restoratives the supposed dead husband and father showed the most positive signs of life. He had been greatly reduced in strength by the grip, and animation was suddenly suspended.”
Tags: Mrs. McCarty, Patrick McCarty
“He thinks he has eaten about 43,800 pies since his marriage.”
Farmer John Walters of Pennsylvania was fond of pie–really, really fond of pie. A story of his dietary exploits from the March 11, 1901 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“During the year just closed, Mrs. John Walters of Point Township, Pa., has made 8,303 pies and her husband records the fact with evident pride. Mr. Walters, the story goes, was a lover of pie before he met his wife-to-be. Mrs. Walters tells, nowadays, that one of the stipulations of the marriage contract was that she should have pies on the table every day till death did part her and her husband.The youthful bride, at the start, baked many pies such as Mr. Walters’ mother had never made. But she improved.
Farmer Walters came down the valley on the day the 8,303rd pie was baked to spread the news. He is a tall fellow, with the appearance of a champion pie eater. One of his seven lanky sons, each of whom inherits his love for crisp pastry, accompanied him, to bear witness to the truth of his father’s statements. Inquiry as to who ate all the pies was natural.
‘Who ate the pies?’ Walters repeated after his questioner. ‘Why, we home folks, of course. I’m good for three a day, and I hope I haven’t raised a son who can’t do as well as the old man. Then I have a hired man who, I’m sorry to say, can beat even me. Why, that fellow will eat six pies a day and get on ’em. Never had a hired man about the place who couldn’t eat pies. The last man I had said he had stomach trouble and wouldn’t touch the nicest tart Mary could bake. He disappeared one night with my best colt and I haven’t seen him since.’
“I have known the hired man to make a pig of himself.”
Farmer Walters took a day off recently to figure up some statistics of his wife’s pie baking. ‘July, with 809 pies, was the prize pie month. That was during harvest. I won’t have a harvester unless he eats pies. Never saw a good worker that didn’t like ’em. Figuring that Mary’s pies are a foot across, and putting them all in a string, they would reach a mile and a half. Putting them one on top of the other they would be higher than the Eiffel Tower. Putting them a step apart they would reach 4.7 miles, and a man can tramp on a pie every step.
‘Who bakes the pies? My wife of course. She wouldn’t let anybody try her hand at such an important job. She bakes ’em in a big oven in the garden, where they get the flavor of the hickory bark. Nothing like hickory bark to make a pie taste right.
‘Every day she baked twenty pies. She says that is enough for any family. Of course, Saturdays and days when we have visitors she doubles up. On days like that I have known the hired man to make a pig of himself. That fellow will eat two pies more than he ought to when he has ’em to work on.’
Farmer Walters is 65 years old. Figuring on three pies a day he thinks he has eaten about 43,800 pies since his marriage.
‘Of course,’ he said, ‘that may be a leetle high or a leetle low. Mary and I never kept any account of the number we ate since she said ‘yes.'”
Tags: Farmer Walters, Mrs. John Walters
From the January 25, 1891 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Pittsburgh, Pa.–The shooting of Mrs. W. J. Faulk by her husband yesterday, in a fit of religious enthusiasm, has resulted in a warrant being issued for one George Knauff, as an accessory before the fact. Faulk declares his religious insanity was inspired by the hypnotic influence of Knauff, who claimed to be another Messiah and ordered him to kill his wife. This Faulk did, and officers are now hunting Knauff, who has disappeared.”
Tags: Faulk, George Knauff, Mrs. W. J. Faulk
From the December 24 1893 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“A patient in a Glasgow hospital had received an injury which resulted in melancholia. Though formerly a happy husband and father, he now repeatedly contemplated the murder of his wife and children. There were no phenomena connected in any part of the body by which the injury could be located; but it was discovered by careful close investigation that immediately after the accident for two weeks he had suffered from what is called psychical blindness or mind blindness; that is to say, his physical sight was not at all affected, but his mind was not able to interpret what he saw. That gave Dr. MacEwen the key to the injury. He located on the outside of the skull this convolution known as the angular gyrus, and found, on removing a button of the bone, that a portion of the inner layer of the bone had become detached and was pressing on the brain, one corner of it being embedded in the brain substance. The button of the bone was removed from the brain, and, after removing the splinter, was replaced in its proper position. The man got well, and, though still excitable, lost entirely his homicidal tendencies.”
Tags: Dr. MacEwen
“Two wheels of the cab passed over his head and body.”
New Yorker Henry Hale Bliss was the unlucky soul to be the first recorded fatality of an American automobile accident. His demise was covered in the September 14, 1899 New York Times. The story:
“H. H. Bliss, a real estate dealer, with offices at 41 Wall Street, and living at 235 West Seventy-fifth Street, was run over last night at Central Park West and Seventy-fourth Street. He was injured fatally.
Bliss, accompanied by a woman named Lee, was alighting from a south-bound Eighth Avenue trolley car, when he was knocked down and run over by an automobile in charge of Arthur Smith of 151 West Sixty-second Street. He had left the car, and had turned to assist Miss Lee, when the automobile struck him. Bliss was knocked to the pavement, and two wheels of the cab passed over his head and body. His skull and chest were crushed.
Dr. David Orr Edson, son of ex-Mayor Edson, of 38th West Seventy-first Street, was the occupant of the electric cab. As soon as the vehicle was brought to a standstill he sent in a call to Roosevelt Hospital for an ambulance, and until its arrival did all he could to aid the injured man. When he was taken to the hospital Dr. Murray, the house surgeon, said that Bliss was so seriously injured that he could not live.
Smith was arrested and locked up in the West Sixty-eighth Street Station. It is claimed that a large truck occupied the right side of the avenue, making it necessary for Smith to run his vehicle close to the car. Dr. Edson was returning from a sick call in Harlem when the accident happened.
Mr. Bliss boarded at 235 West Seventy-fifth Street. The place where the accident happened is known to the motormen on the trolley line as ‘Dangerous Stretch,’ on account of the many accidents which have occurred there during the past Summer.”
Tags: Arthur Smith, David Orr Edson, Dr. Murray, H.H. Bliss, Mayor Edson, Miss Lee
From the March 12, 1894 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Attleboro, Mass.–A well dressed young man who refused to give his name and wore a black cloth mask arrived here Saturday night and created something of a sensation. He engaged a vacant store and filled the windows with pictures of himself and announcements that he was Paul Pry, just starting on a trip around the world. He stated that he had agreed to make the trip in one year and was to wear the mask for that length of time. The store became filled with a noisy crowd and he was forced by the police to discard the mask. He has left town.”
Tags: Paul Pry
From the January 24, 1886 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Cleveland, O.–Michael Browloski, a Bohemian, and his family, consisting of his wife and six children, are lying very sick at their home on Union Street from the effects of eating raw pork. Browloski, a few days ago bought a quantity of pork, of which the family partook liberally, and were immediately made very ill. A physician was called and an examination showed that the meat was strongly impregnated with trichinae. Medicines were administered, and yesterday the family had so far recovered that they were thought to be out of danger, when they again partook of the diseased pork and Browloski and his wife are now lying at the point of death.”
Tags: Michael Browloski
“Julia Pastrana is as great a curiosity now as when she was alive.”
A bearded lady who was an attraction at dime museums managed to have an even odder “existence” after her death, as revealed by this article in the March 28, 1862 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Julia Pastrana, the ‘Bearded Woman,’ who was exhibited for some time at Barnum’s Museum, and subsequently in various parts of this country and Europe, died in Moscow in 1860. A London paper gives the follow strange particulars of her posthumous career:
‘On the following day she was embalmed by her medical adviser at the request of her husband, on the understanding that she should be his property, he paying the process of embalming. A dispute arose subsequently as to his right to the body, which rendered it necessary for him to produce the marriage certificate, which he went to America to fetch, and having transmitted the necessary documents to his agent here, he died in New York. The body thus fell into the hands of his agent, and after being shut up for two years, it is now exhibited at the Burlington Gallery, Piccadilly. The figure is dressed in the ordinary costume used during her life, and her bust, face and arms present pretty much the appearance of a well-stuffed animal.
The embalming is effected by injecting a fluid at an opening in the chest. The limbs are plump and round as in life, with the the exception of the fingers, which are somewhat shriveled, and as a specimen of the art of preserving a human body, Julia Pastrana is as great a curiosity now as when she was alive. Her child, which lived thirty-six hours, is also exhibited; its flat nose and thick hair on the head give it an appearance which is most unpleasant to contemplate.”
Tags: Julia Pastrana
From the March 19, 1897 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Bedford, Ind.--Charley Winters, aged 10, and Willie Babbitt, about the same age, played William Tell, and in lieu of an apple Babbitt placed a corncob upon his head. Winters, using a revolver, shot at the corncob, and the ball striking the Babbitt boy in the forehead, killed him instantly.”
Tags: Charley Winters, Willie Babbitt
“He owned a large part of the city of Tombstone.”
A rags-to-riches-to-rags story that played out in Tombstone, Arizona, and Chicago, Illinois, was reported in the January 24, 1896 Brooklyn Daily Eagle. An excerpt:
“He used to be called the Duke of Tombstone when an Arizona settlement marveled at the recklessness of a man who bathed three times a day when water was five cents a gallon. Edwin Fields in those days changed his white flannel suit whenever the smallest blemish in the way of dust was noticeable and rode behind a pair of horses that were a sensation in a community where burros were the highest type of draft animals. Now he is poor old Ed Fields, and when he gets out of the county hospital, where a Harrison Street police ambulance took him last night, he will be taken to the poorhouse at Dunning to spend his few remaining years in contemplation of the time when he owned a large part of the city of Tombstone and a mine worth more than half a million. Too poor to ask for help, yet sorely in need of it; too proud to ask for money and yet having a brother whose fortune is vast, he was taken from a lodging house at 68 Thirteenth Street against his will, on the strength of a certificate obtained by Dr. A.W. Cowley, who had found that his mind was failing and that he needed comforts he once would have scorned.
Dr. Joseph H. Greer of 307 Oakley Avenue knew Fields in Arizona and had assisted him from time to time during the past three years in Chicago.
‘I went to Tombstone, Ariz., in 1879,’ said Dr. Greer, ‘and Fields was there before me, although the town contained but seventy-five people at that time. He was squatting on some mining property, which was not supposed to be of much value. But the town grew to 15,000, and he owned two-thirds of the town site, so his rents increased until they gave him an income of $4,000 a month. The mine which he owned was called the Gilded Age, and proved to be a rich property. Fields’ title to it was was a little shaky, but he was backed by Boston and New York capital, and in the end secured a perfect title. He sold the mine in 1881 or 1882 for $600,000 in cash, every cent of which went to him. After the town grew and Fields amassed his wealth he assumed a mode of life that made him the most conspicuous character in the West.
“He had lost most of his property in speculation on the board of trade, and then had taken to the bucket shops.”
‘I left Tombstone and settled in Chicago. One day during the World’s Fair period a seedy looking individual stepped into my office and I recognized Edwin Fields. I asked him what he was doing, and he told me with a mournful smile that he was store man at the Southern Hotel. His salary, he said, was $14 a month. Where had his money gone? Well, I asked him that one day, for I could not understand how a man who never drank, never played cards or gambled to my knowledge, could have squandered a cool million of dollars, which amount he certainly possessed at one time. He told me that he had lost most of his property in speculation on the board of trade, and then had taken to the bucket shops, where the rest of his money had taken wings.
‘He was at this time, even with his pittance of a salary, drifting daily to the bucket shops in the vain endeavor to retrieve his lost fortune. I do not know his birthplace, but he was an Eastern man and well connected. He has a sister living at Steubenville, O.; a brother at Farleys, N.M., who owns a sheep ranch; and another brother who owns an immense coconut plantation in the Samoan islands. Such has been his pride or perverseness that he never would seek aid from them. He has roomed at the house of Mrs. Fitch, 68 Thirteenth Street, whenever he was without employment. I fear he will not live long, as he is suffering from a complication of diseases and is now an old man.'”
Tags: Dr. A.W. Cowley, Dr. Joseph H. Greer, Edwin Fields, Mrs. Fitch
From the July 9, 1875 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“An insane man was found wandering about the thoroughfare in the Twelfth Precinct yesterday evening by Officer Bedell who took him into custody. When in the station house he insisted upon lecturing the Sergeant upon the condition of his soul, and told him that he was ‘eternally damned.’ He said that his name was Jesus Christ, that he never had any other name, that he was born in Connecticut, was an Irishman, twenty-eight years old and a baker by trade. The Sergeant said the man was not ugly at all but decidedly crazy on religious matters.”
Tags: Officer Bedell
“Jones is likely to introduce one of his favorite pets to spoil your affability.”
A Wyoming man with a facility for snake charming was the subject of a profile in the Denver Post, which was reprinted in the November 28, 1897 Brooklyn Daily Eagle. An excerpt:
“Charles T. Jones, hunter, miner and prospector, is a well known character of Central Wyoming. A queer specimen of genius, endowed with the rare faculty of a snake charmer, whose psychic influence can subdue the vicious and deadly reptile whose namesake he bears, Rattlesnake Jones is one to be avoided during snake season. Whether riding along the highway or eating a quiet meal, Jones is likely at any moment to introduce one of his favorite pets to spoil your affability. He eats with them, sleeps with them, and they are his constant companions on his long journeys through the mountains.
While on a hunting expedition one season, Jones’ fondness for snakes compelled the entire party to vacate camp one morning before breakfast when every man in the outfit found a snake in his boot. The spasmodic gesticulations indulged in resembled a savage war dance. Not a man knew but every snake was a boa constrictor licking his chops for human gore, and no one had the curiosity to investigate at that particular moment. Being tenderfeet, they were unacquainted with Jones’ serpentine propensities, and order was not restored until he appeared on the scene, captured the snakes and conveyed them affectionately to his bosom, after which he proceeded to breakfast. Occasionally a viper protruded his ominous looking head from Jones’ shirt front or sleeve, to flash his long tongue in keen anticipation of a venison steak. It is needless to say Jones and his pets held high carnival that morning.
On another occasion Jones rode into a mining camp with fifteen rattlesnakes about him–with their fangs out, of course–but none less inviting in appearance. The presence of these unwelcome visitors created a panic among the miners, who were enjoying a half holiday and a keg of beer, and it was probably difficult to discriminate between the genuine snake and the product of Bacchus.
Rattlesnake Jones is a man of medium height, with small gray eyes and wears long hair in true Western style. He invariably carries a six shooter and hunting knife and spends his life hunting and prospecting over the Rocky Mountains. He is very reserved and his extreme modesty is at once appreciated as a virtue rarely met with in old time celebrities who are inclined to be somewhat impressive in speaking of their past records. By dint of much persuasion, however, I induced Jones to tell me of his first experience in handling snakes.
“Before breakfast every man in the outfit found a snake in his boot.”
‘Well,’ he began, ‘I was always monkeying with something out of ordinary from the time I was a boy, and snakes were my earliest associates. But my first experience with the rattlers was in the Indian Territory in the early ’70s, while living among the Indians. I was then about 20 years of age. The different tribes were continually at war, either among themselves or combined against the whites. One day while out hunting with a small band of friendly Indians, a hostile party of three times our number surrounded us, killed all my companions and took me captive. Not knowing what my fate would be, I took chances to escape on the third night of my captivity. I made good speed till daylight, when I found a small cave near the head of a creek in which I crawled to hide till night came again. It was a very dark, filthy place and while endeavoring to make myself comfortable for the day I heard the warning hiss of a rattlesnake at my elbow. I immediately recoiled, but before I could get out of the way I was stung on the back of the neck. How to kill the poison was a question. I was not contortionist enough to suck it from the wound and knew not what to do. The country was full of hostile Indians. I endeavored to find a weed recommended for the cure of snake bite but it failed. All day the poison increased and by night my head was larger than a keg. Some time during the night I became delirious and nearly as I can calculate I did not regain my senses for twelve days.
When I became conscious I found myself naked as when I first came on Earth and I was almost buried in mud. In my delirium I had torn off all of my clothing and was without shoes even. The first thing that attracted my attention when I awoke was the rattle of a snake, weak as I was. We came out of that hole together somewhat ghostly looking but strong friends. In my nudity and accompanied by Mr. Snake, I overawed the Indians who regarded me in astonishment as being from the other world. My demands were granted with meek obedience, for which I owe a debt of gratitude never to be forgotten.’
Beside his love for rattlesnakes Jones has a fad for collecting curios. Mounted animals, horns, hides, tusks, etc., adorn his hermitage in promiscuous array.”
From the November 22, 1901 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“Glen Cove, Long Island–Edward Albertson died yesterday from strangulation. He was ill with tonsillitis, and was gargling his throat when he choked, and, failing to get relief, was strangled to death. He leaves a widow and six children.”
Tags: Edward Albertson
Tags: Edward Alvord
“He had big, muscular fingers, and he snapped them with a sound like the crack of a black snake whip.”
Prior to antibiotics and penicillin, lesser methods were used to treat a raft of ailments–including, um, finger snapping. From the December 19, 1896 Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“A friend who was born in Central Illinois asked me the other day whether I have ever heard of the snapping craze that raged in the back country districts in his part of the state some thirty odd years ago. I have inhabited this planet for a little over half a century and have always been interested in popular delusions, but I had never before heard of the snappers. My friend said that a snapping doctor, who came from nobody knew where, started a curious movement by lectures in rural schoolhouses and churches. His theory was that all diseases could be thrown off by bringing the body up to a condition of high nervous tension by a peculiar method of snapping the fingers, which he had discovered and which he alone was competent to teach. He had big, muscular fingers, and he snapped them with a sound like the crack of a black snake whip. He soon got his audiences to work snapping and made them believe that they were experiencing marked benefits from the performance. For complete instruction in the art, however, he charged $50.
The craze had a run of a few months, and while it raged the school children snapped their fingers at recess time, and in the farmhouses men and women gathered evenings to practice the marvelous new healing art.”
