"...we should pass over all biographies of 'the good and the great,' while we search carefully the slight records of wretches who died in prison, in Bedlam, or upon the gallows."
~Edgar Allan Poe

Friday, December 19, 2025

Weekend Link Dump

 


Welcome to this week’s Link Dump!


The Strange Company staffers are already feeling the Christmas spirit.  Or something.



A question of royal legitimacy.

The royal history of some stolen sapphires.

A particularly interesting feature of some near-death experiences.

A new timeline for ancient Egypt.

Solving a Dead Sea Scrolls riddle.

A mysterious "lady in white" with a surprise for everyone.

An ancient undersea wall.

John Dee goes to college.

The train wreck that birthed the American subway system.

The life of Suleyman the Magnificent.

Aggie Underwood, crime reporter.

A look at some Christmas legends.

Tolkien didn't think much of automobiles.

On the need for imaginative archaeologists.

Why oranges are put in Christmas stockings.

Midwinter at Christ Church, Spitalfields.

You know how shoes with human feet in them keep turning up in the Pacific Northwest?  Well...

That time when Andrew Jackson threw one hell of a cheese party.

A selection of gruesome Christmas gifts.

The origin of the Wars of the Roses.

Dr. Cream, the Lambeth Poisoner.

A very busy executioner.

The graffiti of Pompeii.

When Robert Louis Stevenson gave away his birthday.

The significance of a 3 million year old foot.

When you introduce a new calendar, things get complicated.

The letters of Jane Austen.

A haunted distillery.

Inca's "hair records."

When dating a twin means double trouble.

The mysterious Newport Tower.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll meet a particularly weird Welsh ghost.  In the meantime, here's a striking version of a lovely Christmas song.

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



What’s the Christmas season without a ghost or two?  The “Bristol Mercury,” January 13, 1823:

To the Editor of the Bristol Mercury. 

Sir--In my present excursions in this country, 

Through land of leeks, with Welshmen sped, 

From Afon Gwy to Dewi's Head, 

I may be enabled to send you some occasional communications if you think proper to find a corner in your Demi Cambrian Paper. 

A most extraordinary sensation has been lately excited in the village of Llandoga, midway between Chepstow and Monmonth. 

"The windows shake, the drawers crack, 

Each thinks that Nick's behind his back,

And hitches to the fire.”

On the 31st Dec. last, the house of Wm. Edwards, formerly a local preacher in the Wesleyan connexion, but now estranged from that society, was beset by some (as it is said) invisible spirit, which so violently disturbed the man and his family, by demolishing his earthen-ware, and breaking his glasses, in such unfriendly and unneighbourly manner, that he was obliged to remove to another house, farther up the village, when lo! this crockery-destroying demon pursued his victim to the new residence, and as he had acted on the last day of 1822, so he commenced on the first day of 1823 by kicking the remainder of the perishable furniture down the stairs, and other strange whims, almost too comical for the old gentleman or his imps to enact. On my passing through this village on Tuesday last, I endeavoured to catch the floating opinions of men's minds, of which the following is an epitome.

1. Mr. Edwards is of the opinion that it is the buffeting of Satan, on his determination to become a new man, and to enter again into a state of warfare with that enemy of mankind. 

2. A native of the diocese of St. David's will have it, that the preacher has sometime or other promised a ghost or sprite to meet it, in order to the discovery of hidden treasure, and that he has omitted, or forgotten his appointment. 

3. But some respectable informants there, are convinced that this affair forms a fit sequel to, or a triad with that of Ann Moore, the Tetbury Fasting Impostor, and Scratching Fanny, the Cocklane Ghost. 

An inquiring and well-informed public expects that Mr. Edwards will illustrate, if he can, for it certainly is a scandalous imposition of someone, but I will not say who, for fear of mistakes.

Mr. Editor, you will please to observe these are not the crudities of Tom Coryate, but of real events occurring in the travels of your old correspondent. 

THOMAS TICKLE. Jan. 9, 1825.



Monday, December 15, 2025

The Body in the Mine Shaft and a Strange Miscarriage of Justice

This week, we look at the case of a murder victim who turned out to not be a murder victim.  Even though a murder had definitely been committed.  Throw in a murderer who turned out to not be a murderer, and about all you can say is that Life Gets Complicated.

In January 1925, a 31-year-old man named Condy Dabney left his home in Coal Creek, Tennessee to look for work.  His wife and two children stayed behind in Coal Creek until he was able to resettle.  Fortunately, he found employment in a mine near Coxton, Kentucky.  He impressed everyone as a quiet, amiable, law-abiding man.

Soon after Dabney arrived in Coxton, a 16-year-old girl named Roxy Baker disappeared, under circumstances considered mysterious enough for a Grand Jury to be called in.  Just before the jurors met, three Coxton men also inexplicably vanished.  The Grand Jury found nothing connecting the four disappearances, but they were unable to come to any conclusions about Coxton’s sudden depopulation.

In early July, Dabney gave up his mining job to start a taxi service.  A month later, Coxton was rocked by further disappearing acts:  Two married women and a 14-year-old girl named Mary Vickery.  Although no clue was ever found about the whereabouts of the adult women, two Coxton men--William Middleton and Condy Dabney--had been seen taking Mary for automobile rides, which made them the obvious--indeed, only--suspects in her disappearance.  However, the Grand Jury was unable to find any other incriminating evidence against the men, so they were released from custody.

In September, Dabney heard that one of his children was sick, so he left Coxton to find work closer to home.  The following month, United States Marshal Adrian Metcalf got a tip that an illegal still was operating in an abandoned mine shaft on Ivy Hill, just outside of Coxton, so he went to investigate.

In the course of his search, he found something far worse than moonshine.  In yet another abandoned shaft, he found some women’s clothing and an ominous-looking pile of stones.  He brought in some backup, and the men began digging.  Before long, they unearthed a body.  The corpse was too decomposed to allow identification to be possible, but they believed it was of a girl in her early teens.  This led to the obvious presumption that these were the remains of the still-missing Mary Vickery.  Townspeople--particularly a young woman named Marie Jackson--immediately began gossiping that Condy Dabney was responsible for the girl’s murder.  The stories told about Dabney were considered damming enough for authorities to visit his home in Coal Creek to question him, but apparently he was able to convince them of his innocence.  Unfortunately for him, the Grand Jury felt otherwise.  On March 18, 1926, they returned an indictment charging Dabney with Mary Vickery’s murder.

At Dabney’s trial, Mary’s father testified that he was certain the body found in the old shaft was that of his daughter, largely on the basis of a ring he found in the shaft after the corpse was discovered.  He also claimed that a stocking found at the scene was identical to one Mary owned, and that the “sandy like and bobbed” hair on the corpse matched that of his daughter.  On cross-examination, Vickery stated that Mary had never run away from home before, and denied rumors that she had a bad relationship with her stepmother.  Defense lawyers got Vickery to admit that he had not attended the corpse’s funeral, and allowed the county to take charge of the burial.  When asked about this seeming neglect, he hesitated, which caused Dabney’s attorney, G.G. Rawlings, to declare, “You did not know that was your girl, that is what you started to say, wasn’t it?”

“At the present time I wasn’t perfectly sure,” Vickery admitted.

It turned out that there was a great deal of confusion about the body’s identity.  Witnesses were produced who testified to Vickery’s uncertainty about whether the corpse was Mary’s or not.  Nobody could agree on the color of the corpse’s hair--some described it as brown and fine, others said it was black and coarse.

The chief witness against Dabney was Marie Jackson.  She testified that on the morning that Mary disappeared, she and Mary hailed a ride from Dabney’s taxi.  He drove them to a Coxton restaurant, where Marie got out.  Dabney drove off with Mary still in his car.  Dabney and Mary came back at about 1 p.m., after which the trio drove out to Ivy Hill.  They got out of the car and sat in a clearing, where they talked for a while.  Then Dabney asked Marie to go off behind the hill for a while, so he could talk to Mary alone.  Marie claimed that she obeyed, although she could still see the two of them.  According to Marie, she saw Dabney embrace Mary.  When the girl objected, Dabney repeatedly beat her with a stick.  After the attack, Dabney walked over to Marie, warning her that if she ever told a soul about what she had seen, he would “burn her at the stake.”  As she fled, she saw Dabney carrying Mary’s body into the mine shaft.  Curiously, she willingly got another ride from Dabney the following day.  The topic of Mary’s murder, she said, never came up.

Three young women--two sisters named Stewart and a “Miss Smith”--testified that on the afternoon of Mary’s disappearance, the Stewart sisters and Mary were walking along a road, when Dabney drove by, offering them a lift. They declined, but after they were joined by William Middleton and one Otis King, the three girls rode with them for a short time, after which the Stewarts left, leaving Mary in the car with Middleton and King.  These two men substantiated this story.  All this took place between two and four p.m., which contradicted Marie Jackson’s claim that she had been with Mary and Dabney on Ivy Hill from one p.m. until dusk.

The state brought out a “jailhouse witness”--one Claude Scott, who had been imprisoned with Dabney for a short time before the trial.  He was an old friend of Marie Jackson.  He claimed that he had given Marie a letter from Dabney, and that Dabney had offered him fifteen dollars to testify in his favor.  Claude said that Dabney “tried to make me remember stuff that Marie Jackson should have said through that window to me; while he was sitting there he tried to make me remember stuff I never heard her say and she never said to me.”

When Dabney himself took the stand, he stated that he did not remember ever having Mary Vickery in his taxi, although he admitted that it might have happened, as he often gave rides to people he did not know.  He did, however, occasionally taxi Marie Jackson.  He declared that he had never been on Ivy Hill, and had no idea in the world what had happened to Mary Vickery.

Unfortunately for Dabney, the jurors obviously found Marie Jackson’s lurid tale more convincing than his protestations of innocence.  On March 31, 1926, they delivered a guilty verdict, with a recommendation for life imprisonment.  Dabney faced the prospect of spending the rest of his days doing hard labor at the state penitentiary in Frankfort.

Dabney’s lawyer immediately appealed the verdict.  While the appeal was still pending, a policeman named George Davis checked into a hotel in Williamsburg, Kentucky.  He happened to notice the name “Mary Vickery” on the register.  The name rang a bell with him, although he could not remember why.  When he asked hotel workers about it, he learned that someone by that name had once lived in the hotel, but she went across the Cumberland River to visit friends.  Davis--who had, by then, remembered that Mary Vickery was supposed to be dead--managed to track her down.

Marie Jackson



Mary told him that she had left Coxton on August 23, 1925, because she couldn’t get on with her stepmother.  She took a taxi to the train station.  The driver was a stranger, but the description she gave of him matched that of Dabney.  She said she didn’t even know Marie Jackson.  Mary went to various cities, finally settling in Cincinnati, where she worked in a woolen mill.  She admitted that while there, she heard that a man had been convicted of her murder.  When asked why she hadn’t let anyone know that she was very much alive, Mary replied, “I just never thought about that.”




After Mary was persuaded to return to Coxton, embarrassed officials immediately pardoned Dabney, and appointed a special prosecutor, G.J. Jarvis, to investigate Marie Jackson.  The young woman obviously had some explaining to do.  Despite this official inquiry, it remains uncertain why Marie was so eager to ruin an innocent man’s life.  Jarvis was of the opinion that she concocted her testimony to get the $500 reward that had been offered for information about Mary’s disappearance.  However, Dabney himself said that Marie had accused him of murder out of revenge because “I refused to desert my family for her.”  In any case, Marie was convicted of perjury on March 27, 1927.  Coincidentally enough, on that very same day Mary Vickery was married to a C.E. Dempsey.




After this coda, everyone involved went on with their lives, leaving behind one rather obvious question:  Who was the body in the mine shaft, and who killed her?   It was speculated that the corpse was that of a young woman named Leslie (or Letitia) Cole, who vanished around the same time as Mary Vickery.  Interestingly, Mrs. Cole’s estranged husband Carlo was said to have been romantically involved with none other than Marie Jackson.

It is possible that Marie knew much more about this unsolved murder than she ever let on.

Friday, December 12, 2025

Weekend Link Dump

 


Welcome to this week's Link Dump!

Let the show begin!



The notorious disappearance of Flight 19.

A case of lethal self-defense.

Public bathing in ancient Rome.

The 1915 sinking of HMS Goliath.

That time when someone translated "Dracula" into Icelandic, and things got weird.

The volcanic eruption that may have triggered the Black Death.

Some "lost" Bach pieces have been performed for the first time in over 300 years.

When "Pride and Prejudice" was rejected by a publisher.  (Confession time: I love "P&P," but oddly enough, I've never been able to get through any of Austen's other novels.  I found them all boring.)

A man's bizarre disappearance and death.

Prehistoric "3D storytelling."

The Bayeux Tapestry is hitting the road.

King John and the lost Crown Jewels.

Confirmation of how ancient Romans made concrete.

It seems that humans can sense buried objects without touching them.

The West Point Eggnog Riot.

Why we have two nostrils.

No doubt you'll be gratified to learn that we now know what happens when you send a menstrual cup into space.

Victorian poetry killed off Santa Claus.

The ghost of Paines Hollow.

The Battle of May Island.

The female gladiators of ancient Rome.

Photos of the streets of Old London.

A heroic last stand during WWI.

The ghost of the victim of an unsolved murder.

The unsolved murder of a telegraph operator.

The near-shipwreck which inspired "The Poseidon Adventure."

The oldest known evidence for humans making fire.

A "misunderstood distaste for bathing."

Cousin Molly's Christmas fund.

That's all for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at an unusually complicated murder case.  In the meantime, here's a Christmas season remembrance of the late, much-missed Rev. Robert Willis.

Wednesday, December 10, 2025

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



In January 1907, a salt merchant named Samuel Hughes left his home in Blackwood, Wales, for an ordinary business trip. Soon afterwards, his dead body was found beneath a bridge.  The investigation into his death was largely unremarkable--it was ruled that in the darkness, Hughes had accidentally fallen off the bridge--but the inquest was marked by an eerie incident related by Hughes’ wife.  Her testimony was recorded in the “South Wales Gazette” for January 25:

A curious story is related by the widow, Mrs. Hughes, who states that she sat up all Saturday night waiting for her husband to come home. At 3 a.m.  she heard a familiar voice cry out, “Bess, Bess,” whereupon she rushed to the front door, expecting to find her husband there. On opening the door, she declares that she saw a figure robed in black and wearing a tall hat, such as her husband often wore. The apparition--for such she now deems it to be--vanished immediately the door was open. Interviewed at Blackwood on Monday afternoon by a Press representative, Mrs. Hughes emphatically confirmed the statement that she had seen an apparition, which she believed to be that of her husband.

"My husband,” she said, "went to Newport on Saturday, and said that he would return by the 5 o'clock train. I met that train, but he did not come. I sat up during the night, sitting in a chair by the fire in the living room. At 3 o'clock in the morning I heard his voice calling “Bess, Bess," and I also distinctly heard his footsteps. I went to the door, and there saw a figure robed in black clothes, with a silk hat on.  The next minute it had vanished. I took the candle and went round the house, but could not find anything. It was pitch dark, and there was not a sound to be heard. I was very much startled, but went back and resumed my seat by the fire for time, and then went and lay down on the bed until daybreak.  I was the more alarmed because on the previous Thursday I had had a remarkable dream, in which I saw my husband engaged in a scuffle with men whose appearance I distinctly remember, and could, if needed, describe.

“After the scuffle ended my husband fell to the ground. This dream has made a great impression on me, so much so that when my husband left on Saturday morning I implored him to be careful, and he assured me he would follow my advice."

If you have any confidence in the concept of precognitive dreams, it may well be that--despite the inquest’s verdict--Mr. Hughes’ death was no accident.

Monday, December 8, 2025

A Family Affair: The Sinister Death of Mary Stanley


[Note: I wrote this as a guest post for the blog "Executed Today" way back in 2011, but I thought this tale of a young woman's mysterious death--with a decidedly weird cast of characters--was definitely Strange Company material.]


When reflecting upon the life and times of Edgar Allan Poe, Edward Wagenknecht once wrote that “One might also say of Poe that he lived in a Gothic novel. Hardly anybody behaves normally in this history.” Of all the names one finds in Poe’s biographies, no one better illustrates these words than Marie Louise Barney Shew Houghton. While there were many players in Poe’s life story who undoubtedly deserved to be put in the dock, (the Reverend Rufus Wilmot Griswold being merely the most famous example,) Mrs. Houghton was the only one of the lot who faced the prospect of being tried, and very possibly convicted and executed, of first-degree murder.

Mrs. Houghton is known to history as having been the nurse of Poe’s wife Virginia during her final illness, as well as an all-around Poe family benefactor. This saintly reputation, unfortunately, comes largely from her own boasts on the matter, made many years after the poet’s death. In 1875, she began a correspondence with Poe’s early biographer John H. Ingram. Her avowed intent was to insure that she—as opposed to other ladies who were vying for the title—would be remembered as Poe’s dear friend and guardian angel. Unfortunately, at the time she contacted Ingram, she was clearly in appalling shape, mentally and emotionally. The numerous extant letters she wrote him—which date from January to June of 1875–are always rambling, usually incoherent, and occasionally quite insane. She related to Ingram many colorful stories about Poe that are completely uncorroborated, patently absurd, and often at complete variance with the known facts. Ingram privately acknowledged that Mrs. Houghton was mentally unstable, and he suspected as well that she was enhancing, or even completely inventing, many Poe anecdotes, in order to keep their correspondence alive. He wound up dismissing her with the euphemism, “imaginative.” In spite of all this, Ingram—who was desperately in need of original source material about the ever-elusive Poe—wound up relaying far too much of her dubious information in his 1880 biography, and, even more unforgivably, Poe’s modern-day historians repeat unquestioningly this same apocrypha to this day.

One wonders what Ingram’s reaction would have been if he had known anything about his pen-pal’s personal life. Marie Houghton was a predecessor to today’s “New Age” devotees. Her first marriage, to the “water-cure” practitioner Joel Shew, gave her an avenue into what were the more extreme circles of Transcendentalist faddism, which embraced alternative medicine, “free love,” “freethinking,” communal living, and disdain for established institutions. Ironically, she represented everything Poe most despised in contemporary society.

In the mid-1840s, Marie Louise separated from her husband and entered into an affair with another member of their circle, Dr. Ronald Houghton, although she continued to live with Dr. Shew. In 1849, she gave birth to a son, Henry, who was probably acknowledged as Houghton’s, although at least one historian has theorized that the father was a third man who was living with (and financially aiding) the Shews. The next year, the Shews divorced and she married Houghton. Although they had several more children, the marriage proved unhappy, and they too separated. She continued to work as a nurse, while indulging in a number of extremely complicated and very dodgy financial and property transactions on the side.

However, it was this son Henry who proved to be the catalyst that brought Mrs. Houghton serious trouble. After a varied and exciting career out west where he was charged with adultery, mule thievery, swindling, and “open and notorious lewdness,” Henry Houghton returned to the family home in New York, bringing with him his mistress, Mary E. Stanley, who had evidently been Henry’s partner in crime as well. With them was a toddler who was understood to have been their child, even though Mary was at the time married to another man.

In 1876, the now-pregnant Mrs. Stanley was living with the Houghton family, although by this point Henry appears to have tired of her. Her common-law mother-in-law, Mrs. Houghton, acted as her sole medical attendant. Unfortunately, Mrs. Stanley died soon after giving birth. The Houghtons failed to summon a doctor until she was obviously at death’s door. Very curiously, she was quickly buried without a death certificate having been issued, apparently at the instigation of Marie Houghton. After her burial, the undertaker prevailed upon the physician who had been at her deathbed, a Dr. Bleecker, to provide him with some sort of certificate. Bleecker was reluctant to do so, as he had never actually treated the deceased, but finally issued one with the noncommittal statement that the cause of death appeared to be “congestive chills.”

Mary Stanley’s death would have passed unremarked had it not been for a collection of letters she had written to a friend, which was soon brought to the attention of the authorities. In brief, these letters stated that Mrs. Houghton wished to perform an abortion on her. (It was alleged that Houghton supplemented her income as a professional—and, on occasion, fatally incompetent—abortionist.) When Mrs. Stanley refused, she attempted to give her patient certain “medicines” which Mrs. Stanley believed were intended to permanently rid the Houghtons of her as well. Faced with this uncooperative attitude, Mrs. Houghton “became cruel to her, and starved both herself and her child.” The question of why she remained in the household appeared to be answered by murky and never-clarified issues regarding the estate of Mrs. Houghton’s late estranged husband. It was said that she stubbornly stayed put in an effort to defend the interests of Mrs. Houghton’s other son, Frank, who was involved with a legal dispute with his mother over a certain piece of property. There was a good deal of nightmarishly complex litigation surrounding Dr. Houghton’s estate, and evidently Mrs. Stanley played some crucial role regarding the dispute over the distribution of Roland Houghton’s properties. According to these letters, Mrs. Stanley was attempting to act as some sort of a roadblock in schemes Henry and his mother were attempting in relation to the matter. 

After the local coroner and District Attorney had read their fill of these missives, their first act was to have Mrs. Houghton arrested.

An inquest was soon held, and these letters, as well as testimonies of friends of the dead woman, were presented to the jury. A lurid picture was painted of Mrs. Houghton’s long career of poisoning (including two alleged attempts against her husband,) abortions both successful and fatal (Mrs. Stanley wrote of seeing “terrible things” in the Houghton’s cellar that related to this practice—other testimony agreed that she literally knew where the bodies were buried,) financial fraud, and all-purpose cruelty. Mrs. Stanley wrote that “I do not think there is another woman as bad as her living,” and if half of what was related about her at the inquest was true, this was a genteel understatement. Mrs. Stanley also declared that the Houghtons wanted her dead, not only for the fact that she “knew too much” about their depraved dealings, but because she was threatening to “swear her child” on Henry Houghton—i.e., hit him with a paternity suit. (The inquest also included testimony that Mrs. Houghton expressed great joy that Mary Stanley’s death freed her son from taking responsibility for his mistress and their child.)

When Mrs. Houghton took the stand in her defense, it was said that she gave her testimony “fairly and with much plausibility.” She simply denied everything the dead woman had written. Mrs. Stanley, she said, was a designing criminal who had robbed her son “not only of his money, but of his good name.” She had allowed the pregnant woman to live in her house out of pure Christian charity. Mrs. Stanley’s death, on September 12th 1876, was of a “congestive chill” that came on so suddenly there was no time to send for a doctor. She admitted that she had practiced medicine from 1851 until the previous year, when she was threatened with imprisonment if she did not cease her unaccredited ministrations. She also conceded that Mrs. Stanley had threatened to “crush” the Houghton family, and that “something disagreeable” had occurred several months before that had inspired Mrs. Stanley to write these accusatory letters. However, it was also revealed that at the time of Mrs. Houghton’s arrest, certain family papers were seized by the authorities which corroborated much of what the deceased had alleged.

When Dr. Bleecker testified, he could say only that an autopsy on the dead woman “could not determine the cause of death satisfactorily.”

After all this, it is quite startling to read that the jury ruled that Mary Stanley died of natural causes, “from hemorrhage and exhaustion while in labor.” The only way of explaining this conclusion (which seemed to have no evidence to back it up) is to note that from the newspaper reports, the jury was clearly on Mrs. Houghton’s side from the beginning. In fact, the jury attempted to halt the inquest very early on, claiming they had heard enough evidence to reach a verdict. The coroner and DA overruled them, insisting that they hear additional witnesses. Also, one of the jurors questioned a doctor who testified, asking if it wasn’t true that pregnant women were often prone to paranoid fancies, where they imagined dangers that did not exist. When the doctor admitted that such things were possible, this obviously sealed the deal for this panel. The reason for this obvious bias in favor of the defendant is, most unfortunately, unknown.

The case was left open for further investigation, but as far as can be ascertained by a search of contemporary newspapers, the matter was closed as far as the authorities were concerned. Marie Houghton left the court a free woman, if not exactly one without a stain on her character. She died less than a year later, at the age of fifty-five, on September 3, 1877.

One of the strangest things about this case is the fact that it has attracted so little attention, from that time to this. The only detailed contemporary accounts I have been able to uncover are a handful of articles from one newspaper, the “Brooklyn Eagle,” and two columns in the “New York Herald” which simply repeated some of the information published in the Eagle. Even though the story contained enough scandal to keep a platoon of yellow journalists in clover for years, it was otherwise ignored. Despite the fact that the central character was a figure well-known to anyone who has the slightest interest in Poe’s life, this grotesque little episode appears to be unknown to his biographers. It is a great pity that deeper investigation in the matter appears impossible at this late date, as from what was reported, Marie Houghton was either the most viciously slandered woman of her era, or a monster Poe himself could not have created in his darkest fits of imagination.

Friday, December 5, 2025

Weekend Link Dump

 


Welcome to this week's Link Dump!

Feel free to visit the Strange Company HQ open bar.








In which a performance of "Julius Caesar" gets a bit too realistic.

Short version:  Human lineage is complicated.

The mystery of the "Hebridean Hum."

The mystery surrounding the discovery of penicillin.





The history of an 18th century gallows.

A fake epidemic that saved lives.



The medium who tricked Arthur Conan Doyle.

A brief history of Christmas carps.

A brief history of gingerbread.

How the Roman military brought cats to Europe.


A dying man's burial request.

The odd case of the Woman Who Walked At Night.

Mars may have had millions of years of tropical storms.

The "great dying" of early colonial America.

The great variety of near-death experiences.


A new debate over old UFO reports.

The violent end to a marriage.

The life of Agnes of Dunbar.


That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a woman's very suspicious death.  In the meantime, bring on the Christmas carols!