This blog has featured several stories about people who disappear or run into some other sort of disaster while on long road trips. This week, we’ll look at yet another case that makes a strong argument for just staying at home.Fifty-year-old George Lorius was president of a coal company in East St. Louis, Illinois. He and his wife Laura had been married for a number of years, but had
Included in yesterday’s trip to Fall River was a stop at Miss Lizzie’s Coffee shop and a visit to the cellar to see the scene of the tragic demise of the second Mrs. Lawdwick Borden and two of the three little children in 1848. I have been writing about this sad tale since 2010 and had made a previous trip to the cellar some years ago but was unable to get to the spot where the incident occured to get a clear photograph. The tale of Eliza Borden is a very sad, but not uncommon story of post partum depression with a heartrending end. You feel this as you stand in the dark space behind the chimney where Eliza ended her life with a straight razor after dropping 6 month old Holder and his 3 year old sister Eliza Ann into the cellar cistern. Over the years I have found other similar cases, often involving wells and cisterns, and drownings of children followed by suicides of the mothers. These photos show the chimney, cistern pipe, back wall, dirt and brick floor, original floorboards forming the cellar ceiling and what appears to be an original door. To be in the place where this happened is a sobering experience. My thanks to Joe Pereira for allowing us to see and record the place where this sad occurrence unfolded in 1848. R.I.P. Holder, Eliza and Eliza Ann Borden. Visit our Articles section above for more on this story. The coffee shop has won its suit to retain its name and has plans to expand into the shop next door and extend its menu in the near future.
Coming across a vintage store sign tucked away in the modern cityscape is always a treat. And when that sign is actually two distinct old-school signs showing their age in different ways? It’s a find to celebrate. That’s the kind of sign I found myself charmed by at 318 Third Avenue near East 24th Street. […]
An article I recently wrote for the British online magazine, New Politic, is now available online. The article, “The Criminal Origins of the United States of America,†is about British convict transportation to America, which took place between the years 1718 and 1775, and is the subject of my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: […]
Susan HansonSusan Hanson of Brookfield, New Hampshire, was sitting in the kitchen with her mother and brother on the evening of November 2, 1874. Susan was knitting, trying to relax in preparation for a court appearance the following day. She was suing Joseph Buzzell for breach of promise. Around 7:00, peace in the Hanson kitchen was shattered by a shotgun blast fired through the window.
Soapy STAR notebookPage 14 - Original copy1882Courtesy of Geri Murphy(Click image to enlarge)
OAPY SMITH IN CALIFORNIA♫ California's the place you outta to beSo he loaded up his grip and moved to Grass Valley ♪
This is page 14, dated 1882, the continuation of deciphering Soapy Smith's "star" notebook from the Geri Murphy's collection. A complete introduction to this notebook can be seen on
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 →
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