Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com

It’s not every day that you come across an episode of a reality show titled, “Who Gets the Grave?”  The “Wilmington News,” August 6, 1881:

A singular affair comes to light in the old town of Glasgow, this State. Mrs. Thomas B. Ellison's baby died in 1878, and in due time was laid to rest in the Pencader church yard. He was a bright little baby, and in respect to its memory it was determined by the bereaved parents to have a sufficient monument over the little grave as soon as money could be saved.

In the meantime the mother attended faithfully to the mound and kept it in good repair. The bright sun and the refreshing rain brought green grass and flowers, and no grave in the cemetery looked brighter. On Sabbath morning, as was her wont, she went after service to the grave. To her surprise she saw at the head of the mound a beautiful tombstone, with lots of white-winged angels and nice little verses all over it.

Approaching nearer she saw, not the name of her own little darling, sculptured by an unknown friend, but, instead, the name of Brown. Hurrying back to the church, Mrs. Ellison met Jacob Cazier, an influential man of the town, and to him she related what she saw and then proceeded forthwith to interview the father of baby Brown, an infant that had some nine years before died of cholera infantum, and of him demand an explanation. He gave the mother to understand in a very forcible way that he was not a man to go around pirating among the graveyards for other people's offspring. He guessed he knew his baby, and as he was a poor man, it was not to be supposed that he was traveling around the country putting fancy grave stones upon the graves of other people's babies.

Beneath that mound he insisted were baby Brown's bones, and by its blessed memory he didn't propose to have vandal hands laid on his property. As Mr. Brown and Mrs. Ellison were each positive, there was a big dilemma. The people became interested, and became so interested in the controversy that they took sides.

The baby Brown party was somewhat the weaker from the fact that the baby Ellisonites were led by a woman and the flame of chivalry extant made it so. As Brown threatened prosecution the other side wisely left matters in the hands of the trustees of the church. It was a momentous question, the ownership of the baby. They discussed and adjourned, adjourned to discuss, until they settled upon an evening for the decision. Both families, with other witnesses, were cited to appear.

Mrs. Ellison, confident and hopeful, came promptly. Brown was so positive that to appear he thought would compromise his dignity. In the meantime Mrs. Ellison had consulted Mr. Ray, justice at Newark, who, in looking at the case in all its bearing, suggested that as a crisis had come, perhaps it would be well to look at the coffins. Mrs. Ellison was willing. The trustees, hearing the threat of Brown, refused to touch the grave claimed by Brown, but consented to have opened a little neglected grave near by. The digging was done with dispatch, and in the stillness the interested townspeople that crowded could hear their own hearts beat.

At last the coffin was reached. There was suppressed excitement about the grave. A little more scraping; a few tosses of the spade, the last shovelsfull were thrown, when lo! the coffin of the little baby Brown was brought to light and recognized by the undertaker. The mother had won. The strange tombstone was taken down, and in order to more fully convince the doubters the little grave was opened and the coffin of baby Ellison was uncovered.

I’m guessing it took years for Mr. Brown to live that one down.

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com

Little mix-ups--particularly between strangers--are always embarrassing.  The “Galveston Daily News,” July 24, 1892:

SAN ANTONIO-About a month ago a stranger, apparently 35 years of age, came to this city from Mexico, it is said. He took quarters at the Globe Hotel and remained there for ten days. One night he appeared at the Vienna Hotel on South Alamo Street with a valise and took a room. The people at the place thought he was intoxicated and paid no attention to his groans at midnight.  The next morning he was found dead. He had in his possession some shirts and papers bearing the name of C.G. Jones, also a letter addressed to Charles Finehout. His body was held here pending instructions from relatives. As a result the body of the man was sent to Seymour, Ind., and the following special from that place shows the sensational turn of affairs that developed a little later. The dispatch says:

“On July 1 there came to Western Union telegraph office here a telegram from San Antonio, Tex, signed A. R. Buchanan, addressed to Mr. Joe I. Moore saying:

“Young man found dead in bed at Vienna Hotel here this morning. Among his effects a recent letter from you addressed to Charles Finehout. Other letters and wearing apparel marked C.G. Jones. Wire information.

“The attaches of the telegraph office were twenty-four hours in tracing the ownership of this message to Mrs. Josephine Isaacs Moore, wife of one of our prominent manufacturers and daughter of C.C. Isaacs, a retired farmer. Mr. Isaacs at once replied to the message as follows:

“Think corpse my nephew, Charles Finehout. Can it be shipped here?” 

“He also telegraphed Mr. Francis Schuh, formerly of this city but now of San Antonio, to ascertain if the corpse at the Vienna Hotel was that of Charles Finehout.

“Charles Finehout is or was a man of about 28 years of age, tall, strong, and well built, who spent nearly all of his early life here, but who for the past six years had been in the southwest holding positions on different railroads as fireman and engineer. When home on a visit a year ago he admitted that he traveled under an assumed name, Frank Melville, the greater part of the time. When last heard from six weeks ago, he was at Santa Rosalia, Mexico, where he said he was an engineer on the Mexican Central Railroad and that he was in good health, had saved up $500 and intended to make a visit home shortly, but not until after he had gone to the City of Mexico to join the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers.

“In due course answers to Mr. Isaacs’ telegraph were received, the one from Schuh saying, ‘Corpse at Vienna is that of Charles Finehout.’ And from Buchanan, “Body can be shipped, but not in presentable condition.’ 

Isaacs went immediately to the First National Bank and had them telegraph Buchanan to ship the remains here and guaranteeing the charges. On July 6 the box was received here with advanced and express charges of $187. This was paid and the remains taken to the home of Mr. Isaacs on North Walnut Street. There the box was opened and the coffin exposed to view. It was of the very cheapest kind, probably costing about $20.

“It was opened and it was found that it was not lined and that the remains were packed in sawdust. The face was uncovered and although decomposition was well advanced, some of the friends who were present declared that the remains were not those of Charles Finehout. However, there was nothing done, and the coffin was closed and religious ceremonies held, and the remains were interred in a new lot, just purchased by Mr. Isaacs in River View Cemetery.

“After the funeral ceremonies were concluded an examination was made of the contents of the valise. Aside from the Joe I. Moore letter and one or two photographs there was nothing in the valise to indicate that it was the property of Charles Finehout. Other articles in the valise were shirts marked C.G. Jones, letters and documents addressed to the same name. Among the latter was a certificate from the general office of the Mexican Central Railroad to the effect that C.G. Jones was traveling auditor for that company. This of course, served to arouse the suspicions of the relatives that they had buried the remains of some other than Charles Finehout, and they immediately sought to get word to him at Santa Rosalia, where last heard from. No answers came, however, to their telegrams, and they concluded that they had made no mistake and that Charles Finehout was dead and buried. They decided to trace Jones, and sent a number of letters, detailing the circumstances, addressed to the correspondents of Jones, as found in the valise.

“On yesterday their suspicions that Finehout was not dead were confirmed when by the receipt of a letter from him dated Las Vegas, N.M., July 1, and postmarked July 4, saying he was well and hearty. Telegrams since exchanged are conclusive evidence that he is alive and well, and will be in Seymour within a few days.

“But who is the man sleeping his last sleep up there in the beautiful $200 lot in River View? Who is C.G. Jones? Where is he? Is he dead; or was the man a thief who stole from both Finehout and Jones? Who is to reimburse Isaacs in the expense incident to the burial of the unknown, nearly $400? Since Finehout’s last visit here his grandfather had died, leaving him property valued at $10,000.”

Apparently none of those pertinent questions were ever answered. As a side note, I'd also like to know why Finehout was in the habit of traveling under an assumed name.

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Ludgvan Parish Church, final resting place of our Mystery Bones. Photo: Sheila Russell

I always say, it’s unsettling to find human remains where they shouldn’t be.  The “West Briton,” May 4, 1871 (via Newspapers.com):

Mr. F. Hosking, of Tregender, Ludgvan, purchased recently some land and a cot not far from his house, called Garter's Gravelane. Rather more than 20 years ago Mr. and Mrs. Curnow occupied the cot. Before he married Mr. Curnow had to contribute towards the maintenance of an illegitimate daughter. After his marriage the child was brought to his home, and brought up there.

Rumor said that this child, in girlhood and early womanhood, led an unhappy life, and that more especially was this the case as between her stepmother and herself. Twenty or twenty-one years ago the daughter suddenly disappeared. Mr. and Mrs. Curnow said she had gone off with a tramp, and, gradually, the remembrance of the unhappy step-daughter faded away in the neighbourhood.

Mr. and Mrs. Curnow are both dead, and leave children, Mr. Hosking having resolved to build a hedge on his newly acquired property, his men were digging across the "town-place," or farmyard of the house at Garter's Grave, and were engaged on a spot over which, time out of mind, a rick of furze stood, when, at from 18 inches to two feet beneath the soil, they came on a skull and bones. Proceeding carefully with their excavation, they disclosed a well-formed shallow grave, about 5ft. 6in. long. The skeleton of a short person was disinterred, but not a shred of clothing or aught else gave a clue to the age, sex, or identification of the body buried in so strange a piece. A boxful of bones and dust has been deposited in Ludgvan churchyard. 

Of course, the disappearance of young Mary Green is now the subject of mysterious speculation, as well as all that is known of her and the deceased Curnows; in justice to whose memory it should be said that two or three of their near relations assert that, 15 or 16 years since, and again nine years ago, she was seen by them in the company of the tramp with whom she suddenly left home.

The curiosity of hundreds has stimulated them to inspect the remains, and the theme at as many hundreds of places is--If not the remains of Green, whose are they?

The “West Briton” had a brief follow-up story on May 11:

The relatives of Mr and Mrs Curnow, who once lived in the cot in Ludgvan, in the townplace of which human bones were recently found state that this singularly-named place was at one time known as Clark’s Croft but that a tenant (so runs the village story) hung himself by his garters and was buried in the Three Lanes’ End 20 yards from his house. They ask whether it is possible that the remains recently found were those of the unfortunate suicide? Of one thing they express themselves perfectly satisfied—that Mary Green, the late Mr. Curnow’s daughter and his wife’s step-daughter was alive two years ago. It is true that Mary Green was the illegitimate child of Mr. Curnow, but they say it is untrue that she was ever treated differently from her step-brothers and sisters. Her father “never gave her the weight of his hand.'’ 

This young woman, say her step-brothers, came to Penzance in service, did not conduct herself creditably, and finally started off with a tramp. 13 years ago she was seen at Hayle, nine years since in Lelant, and only two years back at Wendron by a neighbour who knew her very well. Therefore, state her step-brothers, whose bones soever be ones may be found at Garter's Grave, they cannot be those of their wandering step-sister. Of this they are most positive as well as of the perfect innocence of their father and mother of hurting her by word or deed. Satisfactory as this may be, we have still the unsolved mystery—whose were the bones found under the turf-rick in the townplace?

That question was apparently never answered.

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Some years ago, there was a “Midsomer Murders” episode where a killer had the bright idea to hide the body of his victim in someone else’s grave.  This story from the December 19, 1874 issue of the “Louisville Courier Journal” (via Newspapers.com) suggests that such a scheme may have successfully played out in real life.

[Springfield, Ky. Letter to Lebanon Standard]

Your reporter gathers the following facts from the Rev. Miles Saunders.  The family burying-ground of Judge P.I. Booker has been charged to Springfield cemetery; the exhumation we spoke of in a former number of your paper.

Among the number of graves is that of Mrs. Samuel Booker, step-mother of Judge Booker.  She was buried twenty years ago this month.  On opening her grave a human skeleton was found lying diagonally across, and about eighteen inches above the coffin of Mrs. Booker.  The body was in such a position it seemed that it had been chucked into the grave, as it were.  The left leg was drawn up, with the hands to the left side of the face, and the head was drawn over on the breast as though the body had been very hurriedly thrown in, without regard to position or care.  It had been put in without any coffin, box, or covering of any kind, as no signs of any were seen, save of a broad, very thick, poplar plank, which seemed to have been placed over the body.  The coffin of Mrs. Booker was in good condition and untouched.

We understand that, about a year and a half after Mrs. Booker was buried, a large freestone box or tomb was placed over the grave, and large, thick stones set up edgewise and running with the length of the grave.  The freestone box consisted of two very thick stones, three feet long at the sides and two shorter at the ends; these supporting a slab six feet long, four inches thick, and broad enough to cover the grave, on which was the inscription.  Now, the body must have been thrown into the grave during the interval of eighteen months from the time Mrs. Booker was interred to the time of placing the monumental box over her remains.

It is related that about the time of the burial of Mrs. Booker, or sometime after, it is not certain, a loose horse, saddled and bridled, came to the gate of a gentleman in the neighborhood of Judge Booker’s and no owner was ever found or heard of.  We are informed that Judge Booker did not own the farm at the time Mrs. Sam Booker was interred, but had sold it about six years before to Dr. Ashby.  A great deal of interest and curiosity are manifested generally and many suggestions and ideas advanced concerning this mysterious burial in the grave of another person.

The Grave at Herm Island

Photo: Glynis Cooper

Herm forms part of the Channel Islands.  It is located near the much larger Guernsey.  This small (1.5 miles long, 2,800 feet wide) island boasts only a handful of permanent residents, but during the summer months, its beauty and idyllic quiet make it a popular stop for tourists who wish to escape the outside world for a while.  This is all well and good, but for the purposes of this blog the main charm of Herm is one particular grave.  What makes it notable is that no one has any idea what in hell it’s doing there.

The so-called “Fisherman’s Path” leads around the western side of the island.  At the end of this path lies the “Island Cemetery.”  It is given this formal name even though it contains only two bodies, lying in the same grave.  The inscription on the headstone reads:

In Memory of

K.W. Conden aged 2 years

and

R. Mansfield aged 33 years

Died April 1832

Rest in Peace

It is a simple inscription, but utterly baffling, because it is a mystery who these people were, and why they were buried together at this lonely spot.  Adding to the oddity is the fact that photographic magnification revealed that a second “2” was originally added to Conden’s age, meaning that this--man?--woman?--who knows?--actually died at the age of 22.  The second digit looks almost like it was deliberately erased, but why in the world would anyone do that?  (It is also disputed whether the year of their death was “1832” or “1852.”)

Neither name appears in any burial registers or newspapers of the time.  It is inexplicable why they were informally buried on the shore, instead of being given Christian burial in the local churchyard or in nearby Guernsey.  It has been speculated that the two people were cholera victims, which would necessitate a hasty burial.  However, there is no record of any cholera outbreak on the island.  If they contracted cholera--or any other infectious disease--onboard a ship, the vessel would have been quarantined, and anyone ill would have been sent to Herm’s tiny “off-island,” Jethou.  Shipwreck victims who washed ashore would sometimes be buried on the shore, but only as a temporary expedient.

Somebody cared enough about these two people to bury them and erect a stone over their bones, but who?  And how can it be that, to date, is it anyone’s guess who these people were, and why they were given such an irregular burial?

The Herm Island Grave is one of those inconsequential, obscure, but utterly perplexing little historical mysteries which are a particular delight to me.

[Note: novelist Compton Mackenzie, who lived on Herm for several years in the 1920s, loved walking around the part of the island containing the grave.  However, one evening, he suddenly felt himself surrounded by “elemental forces.”  He was so frightened by the experience, he avoided the spot from then on.  Perhaps the enigmatic Conden and Mansfield merely wished to say, “Hi!”]

The Bones in the Wall: An Edinburgh Castle Mystery

Engraved print of Edinburgh Castle, 1833

All ancient buildings have secrets, and Edinburgh Castle is no exception.  One of its more obscure mysteries was recorded in the “Glasgow Courier” on August 14, 1830:

“On Wednesday last, [August 11] as the masons were knocking off the loose lime, previous to re-casting the old palace in the Castle, they discovered a hole in the wall. The workmen described it as being three feet and a half long, one foot two inches high and one foot in breadth. Between the end of the opening and the surface of the wall (it is the front of the palace) there was a stone about six inches thick and about the same length which was supposed, from the thickness of the wall, to be between the extremity of the opening and the inner surface of the wall or room. In this cavity was found several human bones, some pieces of oak supposed to have been parts of a coffin, and bits of woollen cloth, in all probability the lining of it. On the lining the letter J was distinctly visible, and some of the masons said they saw the letter G also. The bones appear to have been those of a young child. Some of them are in the possession of the person from whom we received this communication. It is right to add that the opening was across the wall.”

All anyone could say about this strange find is that those bones had obviously been in that wall in the old Royal Apartments for a very long time.  At a February 14, 1831 meeting of the Society of Antiquaries of Scotland, an account written by one Captain J.E. Alexander was read.  According to Alexander, the shroud was of “Silk and Cloth of Gold, having the letter J embroidered thereupon.”  (Note: other observers thought the letter was an “I”.)  At that same meeting, the Society was presented with several of the bones.  In July of that same year, Sergeant Major Dingwall sent the Society more of the ancient bones and a piece of the coffin.  Unfortunately for historians, the physical evidence of the burial--cloth, coffin, bones, and all--have been lost over the centuries.

Over the years, this simple--if extremely weird--discovery inevitably had all manner of romantic fictions and inaccurate details attached to it.  Castle tour guides were fond of telling visitors that the tiny coffin held the remains of a stillborn child of Mary Queen of Scots, with some newborn baby smuggled in as a substitute.  In 1909, an antiquary named Walter B. Woodgate went even further.  As he thought James VI bore a strong resemblance to the Earl of Mar, he proposed that the Countess of Mar was James’ real mother.  Others have suggested that the bones were those of a “foundation sacrifice”--the body of some small animal buried to ward off evil spirits.  More prosaically, it has been theorized that the box or coffin of bones was a reliquary, although this notion does not explain why a holy relic would be so ignominiously walled up.  Jan Bondeson, who examined this puzzling story in his 2018 book "Phillimore's Edinburgh," threw cold water on all those theories, but did not venture to offer one of his own.

The many embroideries that have grown around the original discovery have caused many historians to automatically assume that the discovery of the secret burial never actually happened.  This is regrettable, because there is a genuine mystery here, one well worth contemplating, even if finding a solution is almost certainly impossible.

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com

What do you get when you mix a decrepit old cemetery, a mysterious grave, and Jimmy Hoffa?

This report from “Newsday” (Nassau edition) for June 12, 1992: 

By Ellen Yan 

STAFF WRITER. 

The dead tell no tales. That left plainclothes Officer William Maldonado staring down yesterday at a mysterious grave outlined by bricks and marked by a cross made of rusty pipes at the Lakeview Cemetery in Patchogue. According to rumor the grave showed up in the mid-1970s among the chest-high weeds but no one seems to know if anything or anyone lies under it.

“It’s a lot easier asking ‘Who punched you in the bar?’” said Maldonado of the Fifth Precinct’s crime section. “Unless we start getting some hard facts I don’t see how it’s going to be solved.” 

It seems appropriate that the oddly marked grave appeared at the historic and shadow-filled Lakeview which dates back to the 1700s and is owned by St. Peter’s Episcopal Church. There rest five sailors frozen or drowned in a stormy shipwreck of the Louis V. Place in February 1895 as well as the 1800s suffragette leader and author Elizabeth Oakes-Smith. 

Four obelisks mark the plot of the rich Smith family who owned the Smithport Hotel in Patchogue’s heyday at the turn of the century and donated money in the early 1900s to maintain the cemetery. Alarmed at being buried alive the Smith daughters gave orders to be left in their homes fully clothed days after dying and one daughter Ruth wrote in her will “I do not wish to be buried until several days after my death like my sisters.” 

In recent times the 65-acre site degenerated into a jungle of fallen headstones and a hangout for the homeless because the church hasn’t had the money for upkeep since at least 1959, said Clifford Still, a member of the church’s building and ground committee. Only recently have church members futilely fought the overgrowth. 

During cleanups that started in January, Patchogue firefighters and villagers carted off mattresses and more than seven bags of clothes, condoms, and underwear, collected at least 13 cases of beer cans and liquor bottles, sawed about 150 trees and burned the weeds. 

“It was like going into Burma--we could have used machetes,” said firefighter Peter Barrie who has relatives buried at Lakeview and has been trying to compile the cemetery’s history. 

With the growth cleared the clean-up volunteers found the mysterious grave by rusty wrought-iron fences in the northeast corner. Concerned that the grave might hold a missing person, they told Brian Foley, aide to his father, John Foley (D-Blue Point.) Brian Foley called the police. 

But their task is complicated, because the church lacks burial records. Whatever documents might have been kept were given to a man by the name of Guttridge who was interested in the cemetery, Still said.  When he died, Still said, the records were lost. 

Police haven’t gotten any concrete leads in their undertaking since being notified June 1. Anyone with information may call the crime section at 854-8526. Those with deeds or historic details may call Barrie at 475-6745. 

Police must decide whether to dig up the grave, but Maldonado believes if foul play ended someone’s life the talk would have been on the streets. His one lead lies in the rumor that a drug-overdose victim was buried there in the mid-1970s. 

“That’s when Jimmy Hoffa disappeared,” Fifth Precinct Inspector Martin Raber joked, referring to the ex-Teamsters boss with alleged Mafia ties. “Wouldn’t it be something if it were Jimmy Hoffa? It’s as good as any theory.”

As far as I know, the identity of the person lying in the grave remains a mystery.