Newspaper Clipping(s) of the Independence Day

Via Newspapers.com

Normally, I honor this nation’s birthday by posting an assortment of various holiday-related disasters, but this year, I am focusing on one story, and one story only.  Because, boy howdy, it’s a doozy.  The “St. Louis Globe-Democrat,” July 8, 1894, told with the subtlety and good taste we have come to cherish from newspapers of that period:

From the Cincinnati Times-Star.

Shortly before 10 o'clock last night Henry L. Driver, a politician, peculator. bookmaker and general sport, was blown to pieces at the northeast corner of Sixth and Main streets by the explosion of a package of nitro-glycerine which he carried.

The victim of this remarkable explosion, which has no parallel in the Fourth of July records, was popularly known as Jack Driver.  He was 50 years of age and lived with his second wife and daughter at 429 Main street. Tuesday night two strange men stopped him in front of the Moselle building on West Seventh street, and he drove them off with a knife. They said they would get even. Yesterday morning as he sat in Pat Russell's saloon on Main street, over which he lives, a bullet fired by some unknown person on the street struck his watch charm, but as it had evidently glanced from somewhere, and was almost spent, it did him no harm, but called to his mind the threats of the two men.  He believed they fired the bullet. In the evening he was seated with a friend in front of the Court House when his daughter asked him to go and get her some more fireworks. He promised to do so, and went downtown. About 10 o'clock he was seen walking up Main street on the east side, and when just above Sixth several persons who observed him say he suddenly felt his right-hand coat pocket and then, putting his hand into it, drew out a bottle which slipped from his grasp and fell to the pavement. The explosion immediately followed. There are those who believed the man who fired the bullet slipped the bottle of nitro-glycerine in his pocket in a crowd, expecting him to find it with the result which followed. Others hint at suicide, and advance the theory that he was in a bad financial way, and that an accident policy of $3000 which expired July 5, 1894, could only be collected for his family by his taking himself off in a way that would seem accidental.

However the explosive came to be touched off, the result was horrible. For an instant there was a roar like a sharp clap of thunder. Buildings for blocks around shook, and hundreds of panes of glass were shattered, and pedestrians were thrown off their feet. Then a fearful silence succeeded, while the astonished people were getting to their feet.  Dozens of people rushed to the spot, but a sudden shower fell upon them. Those in the glare of the lights were horrified and sickened when they saw that it was not rain, but a shower of blood and bits of flesh that was falling, and the timid ran away from the red deluge. The smell of burnt flesh arose, and the sharper odor of burnt chemicals mingled with it.

Face downward lay Driver, his body apparently intact, but when a bystander rushed to lift him up the body fell all to pieces. The head rolled over, with the mouth still gasping for breath.

As the body fell apart and the spectators realized the awful effect of the explosion, many drew back in horror.  A boy came running up with the right arm of the victim, which he had found some 50 feet away on a doorstep.   The walls of the house were spattered with fine bits of flesh like sausage, and across the street, like a festoon, on a cornice, were draped several yards of intestines. The telegraph wires were laden with bits of intestines and flesh, and dripped blood. On a pole nearby were embedded a silver dollar and the open-faced watch of Driver's, while other articles that had been in his clothes were scattered for a square about. There were no remains of fireworks.

A patrol was called, and the officers shoveled the fragments into a stretcher and, hunting up all the parts of the body that could be found in the dark, carried them to the Morgue. 

Driver was well known in certain circles of the city. In former years he dealt in patent rights, and realized thousands of dollars from a corrugated stovepipe elbow.

He next inherited a large sum of money from his mother, but spent that in fast living, and was worth but little when his aunt, Jemima Driver, started him in the Globe Varnish Company on Sycamore street. Two years ago she died, leaving him considerable money, but regarding that a suit is still pending in court. He made a pile of money out of a book at Latonia this spring. He also dealt in Florida real estate and Texas property for a time.

The “Cincinnati Enquirer,” July 7, 1894.  Note the considerably more subdued tone from the article above.

The awful death of poor Jack Driver, who was blown to pieces at Sixth and Main streets Wednesday night, is still shrouded In mystery. The second day's investigation by the police and Coroner has not developed anything definite that throws light on the subject. It is generally conceded that the explosive which killed Driver was either in his pocket or under his arm, or was thrown at him and struck him in the abdomen. It could not have fallen on the ground without tearing up the pavement and also tearing Driver’s legs to pieces.

His limbs below his knees were not injured, and the effect of the explosive was confined to his abdomen and the upper part of his legs, from the fact that his left hand was blown off just above the wrist it is positive the explosion occurred in his left side, which was also badly torn to pieces, while the right tide is not nearly so badly injured. 

Nothing positive has yet been ascertained as in the character of the explosive.  Some persons think it was a bomb or "flower pot.’”  which explodes with a loud report, and their theory is that Driver was carrying one or more of them home to shoot off. It is also supposed to have been nitroglycerine,  dynamite, or a common firecracker. It is also suggested that Driver had an infernal machine under his arm.

All of Mr. Driver’s friends are unwilling to believe that he committed suicide. They say he was not the kind of a man to do that, and they feel certain he would never resort to that awful method to end his life.  Mr. Frank Armstrong, Secretary of the Board of Supervisors, said to an Enquirer reporter yesterday that he had known Driver for 25 years, and he is confident that Jack would not take his own life.

Mr. Armstrong is inclined to believe that Jack had bought some dynamite with the intention of shooting it off a little bit at a time in order to make a loud noise, just for a joke. He said that Jack always was a great man for playing jokes, and this leads him to this theory.  The remains of the dead man will be removed from the morgue to his late home, at No. 422 Main Street this morning, and the funeral will be at 2 o'clock this afternoon. It has often been Mr. Driver’s wish that whenever he died his remains should be laid alongside those of his first wife in Wesleyan cemetery, and this will be done. 

Tiie inquest in the case was begun by Coroner Querner at 3 o’clock yesterday afternoon, and his office was crowded with friends of the dead man and persons who were at the scene of the explosion shortly after it occurred.  A number of prominent citizens and county officials were also present.  Attorney Otway Cosgrave sat beside the coroner and suggested questions now and then. He was the attorney for Jack Driver, and he was present in the interests of the family to assist in unraveling the mystery surrounding the death.  Detective Schnucks, who is investigating the case under direction of the Coroner, was also present. The United States Mutual Accident Insurance Company, in which the deceased was insured for $5,000, was represented by its District Manager.

Mr. A. J. Thorpe, who listened with care to every word uttered by the witnesses.

The testimony of the different witnesses was quite contradictory on a number of points. Messers. Goodman and Haywood agree that the body was lying near the center of the pavement with his head toward the liver and his feet toward, the north, while Messrs. Cumming and Crotty testified that the body was lying across the pavement with the head toward the house and his feet toward the gutter.

The two former swore that they were the first persons beside the body after the explosion, while the two latter testified under oath that they were there first. Crotty testified that the body was lying between the Corner of Sixth street and the telegraph pole, while all the other witnesses claim that it was lying about five feet north of the pole. Mr. Heywood and Mr. C.S. Weatherby both testified that they saw the body blown about five feet in the air after the explosion, while Cumming and Crotty both swore that the body was not blown up in the air, but fell right down on the pavement after the explosion. 

Mr. Patrick Russell, the saloonist at No. 422 Main street, in the house where Driver lived, was the first witness. He said he knew Driver 25 years. He saw him last about 6:15 p.m. on the Fourth of July on the pavement, in his shirt sleeves.  Driver said he was going upstairs to get supper. His little girl came along just then, and he gave her a quarter and said that after supper he would go downtown and get her some fireworks. He was not drinking and did not complain of any trouble. Mr. Russell was told that Jimmie Baldwin handed Driver two letters at the courthouse shortly after this. He did not see any firecracker in Driver's pocket, and Driver had never intimated to him that he would suicide. 

Mr. Walter B. Alvorn, the barkeeper of Andy Gllligan's saloon, on Vine street, said he saw Driver about 9 o'clock on the evening of the 4th in the saloon. He had no package with him. He drank a whisky, but he was sober and all right. He sat down at a table and talked with him 15 minutes.  He said he was going to Main street to get some fireworks for his little girl. He left the saloon about 9:30 o'clock. Driver took two drinks altogether. He was not excited or worried in his action or conversation. Witness had known him 20 years.  He said Driver was at Rugby, Tenn., at one time, but did not know that he ever was engaged in the mining business. Driver never intimated suicide, or that he was in financial difficulties. He always understood that Driver had a good income. He remarked after the explosion that if Driver got any explosive he would very likely have got it at Keeshan's drug store at Sixth and Walnut streets, as he had traded there many years, and used to live in that neighborhood.

Mr. G.W. Schuler, proprietor of the Merchants' Hotel, at 248 Vine street, said he knew Driver some years.  He saw him about 9:30 on the night of the 4th, in his place. Driver said to him: "Sit down, Billy, I want to tell you one thing that happened to me in front of George Hobson’s house." He then told how he drove off two fellows who wanted to hold him up, and about being struck by a spent bullet, as already published in the Enquirer.  Driver spoke of some patent right he was interested in. He said he was going to get some skyrockets for his daughter. He took one drink and left in about 5 minutes. He never intimated that he was going to commit suicide. He had no firecracker in his pocket and he had no package with him.

Mr. Henry Bodeker, the saloonist on Main Street, between Fifth and Sixth, knew Driver 15 years. He saw him shortly before 10 o’clock in his saloon.

Driver said he was not feeling well and complained of rheumatism in his legs and feet.  He drank one whisky. He was alone.  He had a little round package, three or four inches in circumference and about 10 inches long, wrapped up carelessly in a newspaper.  He put it on his left side on the counter. He stayed only about five minutes, and then took his bundle and left. He was perfectly sober and acted as he usually did.  He said he had such an awful pain in his feet that he could hardly walk. The package was a little longer than a mineral-water bottle. It was not heavy. He laid it down very carefully.  There was no noise when he laid it down. He did not say anything about fireworks. The explosion occurred about five minutes after he left. 

The next witness was Mr. Henry Goodman, manager of the Bandle Arms Company, 256 Main, four doors north of Sixth street. He was not acquainted with Mr.  Driver. He was not in the Bandle store on the Fourth of July.  Goodman first observed him shortly before the explosion, about eight steps from the telegraph pole. Witness was sitting on a box in the gutter, facing the store. Dr. Heywood was standing in the door facing him.  Goodman looked south and saw Driver coming up Main street. Just as he passed Sixth street he stopped in front of the telegraph pole.

The awning of the Wellman hardware store at the corner was down, causing a shadow on the pavement where Driver stopped.  He stepped to the curb stone and stopped on the north side of the pole, about 50 feet from where Goodman sat.  The latter happened to look into the store just then, and at that moment there was a terrific explosion which caused him to shut both eyes. There was no firing of pistols or firecrackers at that time. Goodman said he done no shooting since 9 o’clock.  The explosion occurred about 10 o'clock. He did not notice Driver smoking a cigar, and Dr. Heywood recovered from the shock before he did.  He was stunned by the shock. It was louder than a gun or any common cracker that he had ever heard. He did not notice a smell of gunpowder or see any flame or smoke after the explosion. As soon as he saw the man lying on the pavement, he ran into the store and telephoned for the patrol wagon. If the explosion had been caused by a giant cracker there would have been an odor, flash and smoke, and he did not notice any of those. He said persons sometimes wait for the cars at the telegraph pole.  Goodman said he did not know the difference between dynamite and glycerine. He did not know of any thing called "dynamite firecracker" that is being manufactured. He did not see anybody in any windows on either side of the street, and had no idea of how the explosion occurred. 

Dr. Harry D. Heywood, the veterinary surgeon, who was standing in front of the Bandle store, testified that several minutes before the explosion there was shooting of Roman candles on the porch on the second floor of the Galt House at Sixth and Main.  He did not see Driver until the explosion.  He first thought the awning had blown up, but when he looked up he noticed the man in the air five feet above the pavement. He yelled to Goodman, "Look at that." The man fell flat on his face.  When he ran up to him he gave a few gasps and died. A number of persons ran up as he was bent over the man, but the first person he spoke to was Sergeant Grimm.

Waller Cummings of 179 Spring street, a painter, said he was standing in front of Colter's grocery with W.M. Crotty about 10 o'clock waiting for a lady with whom Crotty had an engagement.  He was there 15 minutes and before that sat in front of the Galt House. He saw no fireworks, but heard some on Fifth street shortly after 9 o'clock. While on the corner he first observed Driver in front of the hardware store at the opposite corner.  He was staggering and thus attracted his attention. He was south of the telegraph pole when he staggered toward it. He said that he and Crotty made fun of his staggering. He thought that Driver was under the influence of liquor. He got about a foot beyond the post when the explosion occurred.

He noticed that Driver had something that looked like an Apollinaris bottle under his left arm and carried his cane in the same hand. It looked like it had a blue wrapper on it. Cummings saw it drop from under his arm onto the pavement. It exploded as soon as it struck the pavement. He did not notice a flash or smoke.  It was about two seconds after the explosion when he ran over to the body. It was lying crosswise on the pavement, his head was to the east and his feet to the west, close to the gutter. Cummings said he was the first person there. He touched the man on the arm and asked him whether he could speak. Just then Crotty told him, "Be careful, there might be another one on him.”

Crotty was then placed on the witness stand. He said he was from Greenwich, Ohio, and a porter at the Galt House four weeks, and worked under Cummiings at the Beckel House in Dayton a year ago.  He had an engagement with Edith White, of Springfield, Ohio, who was working at the Stratford Hotel.  He was to meet her at the Galt House, but she did not come, so he went across the street with Cummings. While standing at the corner he noticed Driver staggering over the sidewalk on the other side, and remarked: "That fellow has a pretty good jag on." He saw Driver but a minute, and the latter took but three or four steps before the explosion occurred.  Crotty said he heard a lot of shooting around, but did not see any.

He noticed a package under Driver’s arm which looked like an Apollinaris bottle. It had a blue label. It was under his left arm, and he also had a cane in his left hand.  He saw the bottle fall, but did not see any flash or smoke.  The body was not thrown in the air, but fell right down on the pavement. He never saw Driver before. Crotty said the body was eight or ten feet south of the pole. He fell right down on the spot.  Crotty said he is out of work at present, and that he was discharged at Dayton for drinking.

The next witness was James P. Murray, who lives with his wife on the third floor of No. 252 Main street, in front of which the explosion occurred.  He said it was 10 o'clock, and he was just going to bed when he was startled by the explosion. He hurried to the window and looked down and saw a man lying on the pavement. He then called his wife. The only other persons he saw on the pavement were Dr. Heywood, stooping over the prostrate form, and Mr. Goodman, getting up from a box in the gutter. He did not see any other person. He then hurried downstairs. He said the body was lying in a northeasterly position on the pavement, with the head more toward the gutter than the feet. He appeared to be a little mixed up about this, and corrected himself, saying that the feet were more toward the gutter than the head.  The body was lying downward, and he saw Dr. Heywood turn it over. He noticed the back of the coat and white shirt were turned up. 

Mr. C.S. Weatherby. the well-known retired dry goods merchant, testified that he and his family were on a Price Hill car coming up Main street. He was on the second seat in front, on the east side of the car. Just as the car was about to turn west on Sixth street the trolley came off the wire, and it was stopped there.  Mr. Weatherby was looking east out the window up Main street, and he noticed a man on the east side of the street about 40 feet above Sixth street and about five feet beyond the telegraph pole. He did not notice any other person near there. The man had no bottle under his arm as far as he could see. While he was looking at the man there was a terrific explosion, and he saw the man blown five or six feet into the air. The shock of the explosion made the car vibrate, and it was the loudest report he had ever beard. Mr. Weatherby testified also that he had known Jack Driver intimately for 25 years. He met him just before the Latonia races, and Jack said he had been hunting him for several weeks in order to borrow $2500 from him to invest in poolrooms across the river.  Jack said he got the money from someone else. 

The last witness was James J. Sheehan, the conductor on the Price Hill car, which stopped at the corner. He said he noticed Driver about five feet north of the telegraph pole. He was standing still and his left side was partly turned toward him.  He did not notice any bundle under Driver’s arm. After the explosion he ran over to the dead man with Mr. Weatherby, and when he returned to the car, the motorman, Mr. Hill, said he saw the fellow have a package under his arms and felt sure it was dynamite.

Both the conductor and motorman saw a large ball of fire at the time of the explosion. The inquest lasted until nearly 6 o'clock. It will be resumed Monday at 3 p.m.

After performing what sounded like extremely hazardous experiments with various explosives, the coroner concluded that Driver was “probably” killed by a large firecracker that he carried, which may have been set off from ashes dropping from Driver’s cigar.  However, most felt the case was not quite closed.  Several years later, when reporting on the suicide of one of Driver’s relatives, a newspaper recalled Jack’s grisly death as “still mysterious.”

The Six Missing Skulls: A Greenland Ghost Story

Robert Peary

If there’s one thing wading into Fortean waters has taught me, it’s this:  Don’t play silly buggers with corpses.  The former occupants of those remains generally have a way of expressing their disapproval.  A perfect illustration is this story which appeared in the “London Daily Graphic” in October of 1898:

A member of the Peary expedition writes: While reading the "Dally Graphic" review of Lieutenant Peary's recent book it occurred to me that a curious experience resulting from sundry raids made on Greenland burying-grounds in the scientific pursuit of Esquimaux skulls and skeletons may be of present interest, I confess that my story has a distinctly Rougemont flavor, but its accuracy is vouched for by the scientists of the party. We know it really happened. We leave the explanation to the Psychical Research society.

The Greenland section of the Peary expedition was partly subsidized by several scientific societies on the understanding that skulls and skeletons and geological specimens should be secured for their various museums. Six Esquimau skeletons were promised to the Chicago World's Fair authorities in return for a grant toward the Peary expedition. Esquimau skeletons are rare, especially of those types known as the "Arctic Highlanders," and it was a question of honor that the scientific branch of the expedition should not return without some of these coveted specimens. Now, the Esquimaus are a superstitious people, and hold a tradition that if a body belonging to one of their race be taken to a country where no walruses, seals or bears exist, and where grass is plentiful, the bones of such a transported Esquimau are chewed up by snakes, and the spirit perishes beyond redemption. Consequently our endeavors to obtain skulls and skeletons by legitimate purchase failed utterly, though I must say in defence of our skeleton-snatching action that we offered large prices and tempting prizes for their barter.

When the Kite landed at Ittiblu the scientists went ashore on a skeleton-hunting quest, and, finding no bone market open to bribes or sales, determined to make a raid on the two-century-old burying-ground, which contained several hundred graves. The Esquimaus built a dome-like erection above their graves, the stones being so arranged as to cover the corpse without coming in contract with it. Snow falling between the crevices of the stones causes a firm kind of cement, so that the opening of such a grave is no easy task. We settled on the likeliest-looking grave, and, intending to return at midnight, went back to the ship. The natives, however, were so excited by our arrival that they resolved to make a festive night of it.

Perpetual twilight made it impossible to cover our scientific deed with the shades of night. One of the Kite's officers, however, undertook to keep the natives otherwise occupied while we pursued our disagreeable duty of skeleton-snatching. He therefore took up his position in a large tent and busied himself in displaying the mighty wonders of New York jackknives and the marvels of American-made needles, the latter being highly coveted, and forming perhaps the only prize which might tempt an Esquimau to dishonesty. With such wonders to disclose, their attention was duly engaged for several hours, while the scientists employed themselves in procuring an admirable type of mummified Esquimau, a chief buried some two years previously, whom we found clad In a complete sealskin suit. Wrapping the body in an ulster, we carried it down to the whaleboat, conveyed it on board the Kite, and put it in a canvas gunbag, which we promptly sealed. We had arranged that the affair was to be concealed from the crew, since, had they known of the circumstance, one and all would have refused to sail with so ghastly a burden aboard. Our plans fell out so well that even the captain of the Kite was for some time unaware of the presence on board of what one ethnologist called "a grand specimen." At Herbert Island we collected two skulls, each "find" being duly sealed in a canvas bag, and at several landing points we added to the skeletons in our bags, winding up at Godhaven, where thirteen fine skulls and several bones was converted into a regular grave-yard, but each specimen was separately bagged, securely sealed and the cabin carefully locked. After the shipping of thirteen skulls we encountered terrible weather. The crew meanwhile had their suspicions as to "uncanny" influences aboard, and formed a deputation to the captain to assure him that there would be no luck about the ship till "something" was thrown overboard. The men at the wheel declared in turn that while in the act of steering some stronger hand than theirs was constantly turning the ship shoreward. One veteran helmsman ran us into a sandbank.

He said he "couldn't help it; 'somebody' seized the wheel and ran the ship aground." The superstitious sailors were firmly persuaded that ghostly "Huskies,” as they call the Esquimaus, were piloting the ship landward to induce us to give up their chief's body for decent burial. One morning at breakfast an officer told a strange yarn. He said he was on watch during the night when he noticed a kyak paddled by an Esquimau alongside the vessel. It was bad weather, and he knew it must be a ghostly kyak, for no such craft could have been out fifty miles from the land on such a night. Added to which he stated that the kyaker had no difficulty in keeping up with the ship.

The Esquimau hailed the watch and kept waving and beckoning with mysterious gestures and a threatening tone in his exclamations. Suddenly he vanished, to reappear alongside a few minutes later, hailing the ship, with a mournful wail. The sky was lit up by the vivid northern lights, so the officer stated that he saw distinctly what subsequently took place.  Out of the hatchway came a procession of six Esquimaus walking noiselessly along the poop deck.

They passed through the bulwark, not over it, and vanished. The kyaker disappeared at the same time. The scientific party left the breakfast table and went to the locked graveyard bunk. The seals were unbroken, and were apparently the same that we had affixed.

The remaining bones and skulls, with the chief's skeleton, are now the property of the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia. The six missing skulls have never been heard of. Most of the crew refused to go another voyage in the Kite, which they declared to be haunted by "Huskies" in search of their desecrated bones. I give you the story just as it occurred.  We cannot explain it. If the crew had conspired to steal the bones to "lay" the "Husky" ghosts, why did they take only six skulls, and how did they manage not to disturb the seals? The abstraction of the skulls made no difference--so the sailors declared--to the "Husky" apparitions with which they said the ship was constantly haunted.