Via Newspapers.comAll I’ll say is, 1913 was a lousy year for Halloween festivities. On November 1 of that year, the “Arkansas Democrat” gave a roundup of the body count:Chicago, Nov. 1.-Two boys are dead because of Halloween pranks played here last night. While trying to pull down an arc light, Morgan Campbell, fifteen years old, came in contact with a charged wire and was instantly
"As his son I am proud of hisefforts to succeed in life"Jefferson Randolph Smith IIIArtifact #93-2Jeff Smith collection(Click image to enlarge)
oapy's son hires a legal firm to stop the defamation of his father's name.
At age 30, Jefferson Randolph Smith III, Soapy and Mary's oldest son, was protecting his father's legacy and his mother's reputation from "libel" and scandal. He was also
The crushed oyster shells that served as pavement along colonial-era Pearl Street were long gone by the time the counting house made its debut in 1831. Five stories of red brick, star-shaped bolts, and limestone window lintels, 211 Pearl Street made a handsome building in a row of three Greek Revival structures in one of […]
Youth With Executioner by Nuremberg native Albrecht Dürer … although it’s dated to 1493, which was during a period of several years when Dürer worked abroad. November 13 [1617]. Burnt alive here a miller of Manberna, who however was lately … Continue reading →
18-year-old Lizzie McDaniels was walking home from a wedding party in Cherokee Flat, California, at around 4:00 am on June 1, 1871. Two companions, Mr. Wells and Miss Glass, walked with her. Without warning, a man sprang from the bushes, seized Lizzie by the head, slashed her throat from ear to ear, and stabbed her in the heart. The attacker let go, and Lizzie ran about ten feet, then died
The good-looking thirty-seven year old gentleman handling the reins behind the glossy matched pair pulling the spanking-new carriage drew the attention of more than one feminine eye. Pacing down French St. at a sharp clip, the lady next to him, dressed neatly in a tailor-made suit with the latest in millinery fashion, smiled up at her coachman. Behind the lace curtains on the Hill section of Fall River, tongues were wagging about the unseemly pair. Lizzie Borden, acquitted of double homicide just six years earlier had come into her money and also her style of spending it on the good things in life. Just what was going on between Lizzie and that coachman, unchaperoned and traveling together all around town? Chief among those who disapproved of the new coachman was sister Emma, who had been perfectly satisfied with Mr. Johnson, the former coachman who had managed their father’s Swansea farm. This new addition to the house on French St. was far too “at home” and casual for Emma’s proper standards. He did not behave sufficiently as a servant who ought to know his place. His presence in their home was causing gossip and attention, a deplorable situation for the retiring, modest older sister. Handsome Joe would have to go and Emma made sure of that in 1902 after three years of Joe’s service to the Borden sisters. Lizzie was not well-pleased with the dismissal. Ever since Emma Borden packed her bags and left French St. for good in 1905, friends, neighbors and now historians wonder what caused the split between two sisters who had been so close all their lives. Much has been made of the passing and short friendship Lizzie formed with actress Nance O’Neil as a possible cause of the rift, as well as “theater people” in the house and strong drink. Most likely it was a combination of things but one thing was for sure- Emma’s dismissal of the good-looking young coachman whom Lizzie had hired to drive her around town was a factor. 1900 census listing Joe, Annie Smith (housekeeper) Lizzie and Emma So, where did he come from and what became of Joseph Tetrault (also Tetreau and Tatro)? Born on February 9, 1863 in Kingston, R.I. of French Canadian parents, he worked as a hairdresser/barber on Second Street in Fall River at one time. Later we find him living a short distance away on Spring Street at a boarding house owned by Lizzie and Emma after the murders in 1892. His parents, Pierre Tetreau dit Ducharme and his mother,Almeda Fanion were from Rouville, Quebec and had moved to Kingston, Rhode Island. Pierre worked in a woolen mill and had nine children with his first wife, Marie Denicourt, and six more with second wife, Almeda. The last six included : Edward Peter 1861-1940 Joseph H. 1863-1929 Mary Elizabeth “Mamie” 1865-1956 Frederick A. 1871-1947 Francis “Frank” 1875-1935 Julia E. 1877-1973 We can only imagine the conversation between Lizzie and Emma about Joe Tatro – the arguments put forward, even heated discussions, but in the end, Lizzie had her way and in 1904 rehired Joe to resume his duties on French Street. Added to Emma’s unhappiness about Nance O’Neil and other factors, Emma and Lizzie parted company in 1905. Joe remained driving Miss Lizzie until 1908, and for whatever reason, decided to move on. The 1908 directory lists him as “removed to Providence”. Joe never married. Perhaps he remembered his childhood in a house full of siblings and half siblings and parenthood never appealed to him. He decided to try his luck out in Ohio where his youngest sibling, Julia, had gone, now married to Alfred Lynch and where eventually all his full siblings would find their way. Al Lynch worked as a supervisor in a machine works in East Cleveland and he and Julia had two sons, Alfred Jr. and an oddly -named boy, Kenneth Borden Lynch. One has to wonder about this last name. Lizzie had two beloved horses, Kenneth and Malcolm. Was this a connection to Joe’s happy past on French Street where he had driven that team of horses? Lizzie presented Joe with a handsome heavy gold watch chain when he left her in 1908. The watch fob had an onyx intaglio inset of a proud horsehead to remind him of their days on French St. Joe’s youngest sibling Julia, who married Al Lynch. She was the mother of two sons including Kenneth Borden Lynch Sadly, Kenneth Borden Lynch was to marry, produce one son, and one day while attending to his motor vehicle, was run over by a passing Greyhound bus. Kenneth Borden Lynch, Joe’s nephew Joe Tatro developed cancer of the stomach and died at the age of 66 ½ from a sudden stomach hemorrhage on August 10, 1929. His last occupation was one of a restaurant chef. He was a long way from those carefree Fall River days. He was buried in Knollwood Cemetery on August 12th from S.H. Johnson’s funeral home. His last address at 1872 Brightwood St. in East Cleveland is today just a vacant lot in a tired old residential neighborhood. He shared the home with another married sister, Mary R. Tatro Asselin. There are still a few direct descendants of his immediate family alive, and they are aware of his connection to Lizzie Borden. Whatever memories of her, Joe took with him to the grave. (Photographs courtesy of Ancestry.com, Newspapers.com, The Cleveland Plain Dealer and Zillow.com)
[Editor’s note: Guest writer, Peter Dickson, lives in West Sussex, England and has been working with microfilm copies of The Duncan Campbell Papers from the State Library of NSW, Sydney, Australia. The following are some of his analyses of what he has discovered from reading these papers. Dickson has contributed many transcriptions to the Jamaica […]
The existence of a female gambling house in Boston has been suspected by some,and known to a few favored ones for some time past—in fact, ever since the opening of the institution. At first it bloomed and flourished during the winter months at the reception department of two ladies whom we shall style Miss Mary Laudon and Mme. Burgoine. These two feminines passed for mother and daughter, and by their industry and modest deportment won their way into the family acquaintance of some of the best families in the city.
It was left to an occasional contributor of the NEWS to rediscover the retreat of these now notable females, and give an idea of the way in which fast girls and boys pass the nights, as some of them say, "out of town on business."
The secret leaked out through a colored girl, who was recently discharged for some irregularity, and imparted by her to another person, who visited the "retreat." They call it the "retreat" because of its charming privacy and apparent obscurity. It is on a street not far from the State-house. The front of the building would appear to the ordinary observer as a building unoccupied. The windows are darkened above, and were it not for the side-door, left open night and day, but which is seldom used, no one would suppose the upper part of the building occupied. But it is now discovered to be the popular place of resort, for various classes of people, who nightly assemble to play with and provoke Dame Fortune as represented by her most fascinating votaries. But let the last victim tell his own story:
"It was a strange sight —one that fairly astounded one at first glance. Here in a room gaudily but not richly decorated and brilliantly lighted, were assembled at least thirty men and women, three-fourths of whom were engaged in the fascination of games of chance, At one table sat the quondam seamstress, Miss Landon, attired in a loose, white lace wrapper, her fingers glittering with pearls. She was dealing faro for the amusement of a young merchant of Boston, and two women, both strangers to me. Four or five persons sat by the table, looking lazily on, smoking and sipping refreshments. At an adjoining table two men and two women were engaged in a game in which bright, new half-dollars passed for checks, and gold pieces occasionally passed current.
"One of the women, a 'girl of the period,' smoked her cigar with the nonchalance of an adept, while her neighbor on the right, a middle aged woman of means, kept a record of the game on paper. They appeared to be playing whist. At two small tables in the far corner of the room six or seven women, with one or two men, were interested in games of chance, apparently poker or euchre, and money appeared to be passing freely, but rather silently. Taking down a billiard-cue, we acceptedthe challenge of Mme. Burgoine, and engaged, with our friend and a girl who had just prepared to start for home, in a friendly game of billiards. These are a few of the observations made during a short visit to a retreat whose existence is unknown to even the business men in its vicinity."
"We follow vice and folly where a police officer dare not show his head, as the small, but intrepid weasel pursues vermin in paths which the licensed cat or dog cannot enter."
The Sunday Flash 1841