Soapy STAR notebookPage 13 - Original copy1882Courtesy of Geri Murphy(Click image to enlarge)
OAPY SMITH'S STAR NOTEBOOKPart #13 - Page 13
This is page 13, 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 page 1. Page 13 is a continuation from page 11 and 12, and
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.
Via Newspapers.comThis sinister little ghost story--with hints of murder and spectral vengeance thrown in--appeared in the “Garnett-Journal Plaindealer,” May 6, 1887:New York, May 2. A New Haven, Conn., special says: Charles L. Beecher, who committed suicide Sunday, is now believed by many to have been driven to his death by a belief that he was haunted by the ghost of his wife. The fact
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: […]
There’s a lot to love about Patsy’s, the three-generation family-run restaurant celebrating its 80th year on the far off-Broadway, low-rise block of West 56th Street off Eighth Avenue. This old-school Italian spot offers highly rated red sauce classics, old-school ambiance, and a connection to Frank Sinatra, who considered Patsy’s one of his favorite New York […]
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 →
"Bet anything you've got," is the rule of the house at a faro game in Gold Hill, Neb.
"You've pretty near broke me," Jim Tuttle said to the dealer, the other night. "I'm out my roll of $200, and that wrong call gave you my watch and chain. What can I bet you now on the ace-queen?'
"Anything you've got, Jim," said the dealer. "We'll pull cards for anything we can get stuff out of. We can't risk stuff against wind, though. We must have the collateral."
"Can you get stuff out of this?' inquired the broken tiger-backer. "Here's collateral. 'Bet anything you've got,' you said. This is all I've got."
There was a rush from the table and a wild bolt from the room as Jim drew from his pocket a big rattlesnake, and stretching forth his hand laid it loose on the high card end of the layout. "It's all I've got," he said. "Let him go for a tenner, ace to the queen, dealer."
The dealer was not moved to the point of abandoning his cash drawer. He declined to turn cards for the remarkable stake offered him. He was, however, in mood to be conciliatory. He threw out a $20 note saying: "Call in your snake, Jim. That will do for to-day. Don't play any more. You couldn't win a shoestring with a thousand dollars. Take that and go home."
Jim pocketed the $20 first and his pet rattler a moment later. He went out into the night to buy a drink and struggle homeward.
"The snake is a winner, anyhow," he muttered. "I can't lay 'em down without they fly away from me. The rattler is better than I am. I'm no good. I must hang to him and play him again."
"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