"...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, June 16, 2023

Weekend Link Dump

 

"The Witches' Cove," Follower of Jan Mandijn

Watch out during this week's Link Dump.  We have a bunch of criminals in our midst.



What's on the menu when you live at the South Pole.

Seriously, why do English kings seem to have a thing for winding up in parking lots?

The memorial to the Poem Tree.

Money-saving recipes from the Depression era.

Saturn's moon is believed to be inhabitable.  Don't count on spending a vacation there, though.

The Robinson Crusoe of Singapore.

The history of the word "defenestration."

Virginia's "TV fairy."

A look at Charlotte Corday's assassination manifesto.

An early 20th century English painter.

Remembering one East India Company soldier and forgetting another.

Scandal hits the House of Capet.

An unsolved child-murder in Maryland.

Those dangerous cups of tea.

Childbirth during the Georgian era.

A cat's birthday festival.

The fine art of genealogy snobbery.

The medical equipment required for a 19th century military expedition.

A murder mystery from 700 years ago.

Yet another "pushing back human history" link.

A Clown Motel's appropriately ghoulish history.

A handy guide to Elizabethan curses and insults.

One from the "ghostly faces in window panes" file.

How to survive historical catastrophes.

Thomas Cromwell's Book of Hours has been identified.

A dog catches a murderer.

British "factory girls" in WWII.

One very bad mother.

The prosecution of killer pigs.

The world's first museum.

Poland's Green Mosque.

AI is now imitating John Lennon.

An ancient "lost world."

The 1857 Language of Flowers.

A feud turns deadly.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a never-forgotten 18th century murder.  In the meantime, get ready for summer!

Wednesday, June 14, 2023

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



Consider this to be a brief sequel to my recent post about Libelous Tombstones.  I found this story after that post was published.  And it's a goodie.  The "Washington Times," February 25, 1899:

Did you ever visit--when you were in London--the Dogs' Cemetery in Hyde Park? If you ever were there, you will be pained to know that the old custodian, Mr. Woolridge, died last month.

If you do not know the cemetery, listen to the story told by Mr. Woolridge to Mr. G. R. Sims.

It is a tale of petty and malignant vengeance, and we repeat it in Mr. Sims' own words. Over the grave of a cat you will find a pathetic statement to the effect that poor pussy was cruelly poisoned, and, in spite of all that veterinary science could do, died in a few hours in the arms of her broken-hearted mistress. Then immediately beneath this statement you will find inscription in the hieroglyphics of the Third Dynasty, or something of the sort. This will astonish you.

"What on earth," you will say, "has a cat's grave to do with hieroglyphics?" Listen and you shall hear. When the lady buried her beloved cat in the Hyde Park Cemetery, her. heart was filled with bitter hatred of its cowardly assassin. So she cursed that assassin in fine Biblical language.  The curse was carved on the tombstone.  It cursed the murderer in his uprising, and his down-sitting.  It cursed him on earth and it cursed him in hell.  As old Woolridge said, it was the sort of curse that made you blind and took your breath away. 

Now, His Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge, was Ranger of. Hyde Park, and his attention was called to the curse, and George Ranger was shocked. So the officials communicated with the lady and ordered her to remove the cursing portion of pussy's headstone.  Eventually the lady yielded, and the headstone was to be altered.

When it was brought back and set up again the space which the curse had hitherto occupied was filled with ancient hieroglyphics.  But the lady had not abandoned her curse. It was that hardly anybody could read it. She had taken the headstone to the British Museum, engaged the services of a learned professor, and the professor had translated the curse into ancient Egyptian. And so pussy's murderer is still cursed upon pussy's tombstone in the Hyde Park Cemetery.

Monday, June 12, 2023

The Whatley Mystery

"Austin American Statesman," February 8, 1976, via Newspapers.com



John Whatley was, in many ways, a quintessential Texas self-made man.  He was born in Mexico in 1903, but as a young man, was compelled to flee across the border when revolutionaries appropriated his father’s lands.  Whately started a dairy and went into land investments, with such success that he eventually acquired a 1,500 acre ranch outside Bastrop, and a net worth estimated at somewhere between $2-7 million.

Whatley’s personal life was considerably bumpier than his professional career.  After going through four divorces, in 1972 he married a 64-year-old named Faye. (I wasn't able to find her previous surname in any of the accounts of this case).  They both had adult children from their previous unions: John had a son named Barney, and Faye a daughter (her son had been killed in a plane crash.)  The Whatleys appeared an oddly matched couple:  Faye was an outgoing, gracious, popular person, while John was a reserved type who rarely socialized.  Despite John’s wealth, the couple led a fairly modest lifestyle.  Still, to outside eyes, the marriage seemed happy enough.  The Whatleys had few close friends, but no enemies, either.

On January 30, 1976, the Whatleys planned to go to Houston to attend the wedding rehearsal for Faye’s granddaughter.  When they failed to show up to the rehearsal or the wedding held on the next day, Faye’s family asked the Bastrop County Sheriff’s office to go to the Whatley ranch to do a welfare check.  The police found that the couple’s twin Mercedes cars were parked in the garage.  The Whatley dogs were running free across the property, but their owners were nowhere to be found.  

Finding that the front door was locked, the sheriff entered the home through an open window.  None of the couple’s possessions, including eyeglasses and wallets, were missing.  Everything appeared to be in order, except for one ominous thing: a hole in a bedroom window, evidently made by a gunshot from a .22 caliber bullet.  The window shade was pulled down, and although it also had a bullet hole, it did not match the trajectory of the shot fired through the window itself.  A second bullet mark was on the tile interior of the window, so it was theorized that after the gunman fired through the window, he/she pulled down the shade and fired an additional shot through it.  (Yes, I know that makes little sense, but as you will see, this is one of those cases where almost nothing is very logical.)  John owned two .22 caliber revolvers, but one of them was missing.  The strangest touch of all was that someone had removed the bedroom door.  It has been speculated that the door was used as a makeshift stretcher to remove a body (or bodies,) although a sheet or blanket would be a more obvious item to use.  (Over a year after the Whatleys vanished, the door was found inside a barn on their property.  A barn that had already been searched numerous times.)

Investigators learned that the couple had last been seen on the evening of January 27, when a man who had been hired to pick pecans on the ranch got into a quarrel with John, who appeared to be very drunk at the time.  The following morning, another ranch hand showed up for work.  He knocked at the Whatley’s door, but no one answered.  The January 28 edition of the “Austin American Statesman” was still in the mailbox, suggesting that the couple vanished sometime during the night of the 27th.  At around 9:45 that night, some hunters saw a blue or green Ford van with a camper driving in the direction of the Whatley ranch.  Less than an hour later, someone else saw this same auto driving in the opposite direction.

That is all we know for certain about the disappearance of John and Faye Whatley.  To date, no trace of either of them has been found.  

Did John’s wealth cause someone to kidnap the couple?  But if such was the case, where was the ransom demand?

For a while, authorities turned their attention to John’s son Barney, who worked for Austin’s city sanitation department.  Barney freely told investigators that he saw little of his father, and considered himself to be financially independent of John.  It was noted that he owned a green Ford van which matched the description of the auto seen around the Whatley ranch.  Barney denied any knowledge of what happened to his father and stepmother, but he refused to take a polygraph.  All this might seem a bit suspicious, but although Barney stood to inherit half his father’s estate, John’s disappearance meant that his son would have to wait seven years before having him declared legally dead.  If Barney wanted his father’s money, it would have been more to his benefit to arrange an obvious murder, not a vanishing.

In 1984, serial killer Henry Lee Lucas confessed to murdering the Whatleys.  He told police that he and an accomplice had stabbed the couple and dumped their bodies in the Nevada desert.  Although the story he told seemed plausible enough, authorities simply could not make up their minds if it was enough to warrant filing murder charges.  Although Lucas was indeed a prolific murderer, he had the ghoulish habit of “confessing” to killings he could not possibly have committed.  On the whole, it seems most likely that he was not involved in the Whatley case.

Or was John not a victim, but a villain?  When police searched the ranch, they found a box of legal documents.  When a man goes through four failed marriages, it’s generally a sign that he is not a prince among husbands, and these documents indicated that such was the case with John Whatley.  In fact, only three months after John and Faye married, he filed for divorce.  Faye responded with a countersuit alleging that John abused her.  For whatever reason, the couple dropped their suits, although it seems probable that the marriage remained troubled.  All this has led some to surmise that John, wishing to avoid another expensive and scandalous divorce, murdered Faye.  According to this theory, the green van seen in the vicinity was driven by an accomplice who helped John hide the body and flee, probably back to his homeland of Mexico.  It is certainly not an impossible scenario, but, unfortunately, one that doesn’t have a speck of actual evidence to back it up.

A newspaper reporter named Nat Henderson suggested there was a link between the Whatley mystery and a murder which had taken place two decades before the couple disappeared.  In 1955, two brothers, Calvin and Charlie White, murdered a 78-year-old man named Felix Heidel on his small Texas ranch.  The killers gave his body a shallow burial not far from what would become the property of John Whatley.  The motive for the slaying was to put Heidel out of the way so the murderers could rustle his herd of 24 cattle.  (The Whites were arrested after trying to sell the cows to an Austin cattle buyer.  Charlie died in the electric chair, while Calvin cheated “Old Sparky” by dying of natural causes in his cell.)  Henderson thought it possible that Whatley--who was far wealthier than poor Heidel--was murdered for similar reasons.

Two months after the Whatleys vanished, Bastrop County Sheriff Jimmy Nutt told a reporter, “We’re up against a stone wall--nothing to go on but guesses.”  Unfortunately, that statement still holds true nearly fifty years later.

Friday, June 9, 2023

Weekend Link Dump

 

"The Witches' Cove," Follower of Jan Mandijn

For this week's Link Dump, we are proud to have as our host the lovely Dossie!


Watch out for the Bonnacon!

Some Brooklyn life-saving pets.

An escape from Death Row.

19th century love gone wrong.

The link between fairies and prehistoric sites.

An Indian doctor explains early 20th century English etiquette.

That time when there was a Masonic Pug Society.

The man who inspired Father's Day.

The man who fought in both the Civil War and WWI.

That day when it was very unlucky to be named "Edward Gallagher."

A mysterious species buried their dead 100,000 years before humans.

They're not saying it's aliens, but...oh, hold on, they are saying it.

Ancient Romans loved their tweezers.

A 1943 low point in Allied air wars.

In the Netherlands, fish have their own doorbells.

The birds of Barrackpore Menagerie.

The rat-catcher's daughters.

The 18th century pleasure gardens at Marylebone.

The formation of the coalition that defeated Napoleon.

I really have to take my hat off to these people.  It usually takes me several weeks just to knit a shawl.

A prehistoric triple burial.

The "Women's Land Army" of WWII.

Birds are art critics.

A legendary lost city has been found.

Death-bed promises can be...uncomfortable.

The Hampton Court robbery.

Ancient Egyptians had some weird tastes in drinks.

An alleged alien abduction.

How East Grinstead became known as the "Hub of Weird."

If you want to spend the weekend reading about snail slime, this is your lucky day.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll take another peek into the Mysterious Disappearance file.  In the meantime, here's what happens when Chinese folk music runs into the Rolling Stones.


Wednesday, June 7, 2023

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



Come on, did you really think I was going to ignore that headline?  This week’s Newspaper Blast From the Past appeared in the (Regina, Saskatchewan) “Leader-Post,” January 3, 1907:

OTTAWA, Jan. 2:— A most remarkable little object, apparently half fish and half gorilla, was found yesterday evening by Mrs. R.C. Tate, 496 Rideau Street, under circumstances that almost rival some of the stories of Edgar Allan Poe. Certainly the supposed merman is one of the most hideously grotesque little things that can be imagined, and to run across it as Mrs. Tate did, in the dark garret, would disturb the nerves of the boldest. 

One glance at the horrid Chinese idol, Hindu god, or whatever it is, and Mrs. Tate dropped it back into the glass box from which she had taken it and rushed down stairs in a condition bordering upon hysteria. Several of the neighbours rushed into the house upon hearing the cries, and it was some time before the ladies could look upon the savage semi-fish without a shudder. 

Stories were told of people in possession of such a replica of oriental religious value being mysteriously stricken down by unknown assassins, and Mrs. Tate refused to have the image in the house over night, remembering possibly the fantastic stories such as the “Moon-Stone” and other tales where idols’ ears and images’ eyes played most important roles in the deaths of whole families. As a solution in the matter, the peculiar object was taken to The Citizen office, where it now is, and may be seen by the morbidly curious. Just what the thing is supposed to represent is a mystery--in fact, more than one man has believed it to be a real merman, half ape and half shark. The story of the find is a most interesting and peculiar one. About a foot long, the merman’s lower half is fish, with fully developed tail, and six perfect fins. The upper part is certainly petrified, and a perfectly formed human or ape-like body. The hands are webbed with fierce-looking claws, while the big head, wrinkled and fearful, is turned to one side with a most malignant leer. Sharp teeth appear in the gums and the body is covered with long hairs.  Altogether the effect is absolutely horrifying. 

“A year ago in February,” said Mrs. Tate, in telling the finding of the object, “a tall, dark-eyed man, with black hair, wearing a slouch hat and long grey coat, came to the front door and handed in a long glass box, hermetically sealed and apparently filled with wood. ‘Give this to the man who used to live here,’ the stranger said, smiling. ‘He will know what I mean.’” The box was taken in and put in the hall for a week. No one called for it, and the garret was finally its resting place, where it lay for almost a year. 

During Christmas week, Mrs. Tate made a lot of passe-partout work, and yesterday decided to make one more for a friend, overlooked at Christmas. No glass was to be had, and the lady was in despair until she thought of the glass box upstairs, left by the stranger a year ago. A little trouble brought the box to light, now covered with cobwebs, but hermetically sealed as first seen. Taking a knife, the six glass sides were removed, when a black, cloth-covered board was found, with something fastened to it, and wrapped in yards and yards of wool. The last fold was torn away and the frightful little grinning merman was seen in the dim light of the attic. Uttering a shriek, Mrs. Tate rushed down-stairs and the house was in an uproar in a moment. 

Why the strange man left the object for the former tenant, whose person left her recently, Mrs. Tate does not know; why the former tenant failed to call for his oriental idol, or whatever it is--all these points are a mystery.

In case you were wondering, the paper failed to include a photo of this dreadful and shocking object.  Damn it.

Monday, June 5, 2023

Dr. Moore and the Fairies

"Fairy Banquet," Arthur Rackham



As I believe I’ve mentioned before, when you come across an old pamphlet with those enticing words, “strange and wonderful news” in the title (and, boy howdy, were there plenty of those,) you’re about to embark on quite a wild ride.  The following tale is no exception:

Strange and Wonderful News from the county of Wicklow in Ireland, or, a Full and True Relation of what happened to one Dr. Moore (late Schoolmaster in London). How he was taken invisibly from his Friends, what happened to him in his absence, and how and by what means he was found, and brought back to the same Place. (With Allowance) London, printed for T. K., 1678.

Dr. Moore having lately purchased an estate in the county of Wicklow, did (together with Mr. Richard Uniack, and one Mr. Laughlin Moore), about three weeks since, go down to view his concerns there: And being come to their Inne at a place called Dromgreagh near Baltinglass, where they intended to lodge that night, the Doctor began a discourse of several things that happened to him in his childhood near that place, and that it was about thirty-four years since he had been in that country: That he had been often told by his mother, and several others of his relations, of spirits which they call'd Fairies, who used frequently to carry him away, and continue him with them for some time, without doing him the least prejudice: but his mother being very much frighted and concern'd thereat, did, as often as he was missing, send to a certain old woman, her neighbour in the country, who, by repeating some spells or exorcisms, would suddenly cause his return. Mr. Uniack used several arguments to disswade the doctor from the belief of so idle and improbable a story; but notwithstanding what was said to the contrary, the Doctor did positively affirm the truth thereof. And during the dispute, the Doctor on a sudden starting up, told them he must leave their company, for he was called away. Mr. Uniack perceiving him to be raised off from the ground, catches fast hold of his arm with one hand, and intwined his arm within the doctor's arm, and with his other hand grasped the Doctor's shoulder; Laughlin Moore likewise held him on the other side: but the Doctor (maugre their strength) was lifted off the ground. Laughlin Moore's fear caused him presently to let go; but Mr. Uniack continued his hold, and was carried above a yard from the ground, and then by some extraordinary unperceived force was compelled to quit. The Doctor was hurried immediately out of the room, but whether conveyed through the window, or out at the door, they, being so affrighted, none of them could declare.

The two gentlemen being greatly surprised at the strangeness of the accident, and troubled for the loss of their friend, call'd for the innkeeper, to whom they related what had befallen their companion. He seem'd not to be much terrified thereat, as if such disasters were common thereabouts; but told them, that within a quarter of a mile there lived a woman, who by the neighbourhood was call'd a wise woman, and who did usually give intelligence of several things that had been lost, and of cattel that were gone astray, and he doubted not but if the woman were sent for, she could resolve them where their friend was, and by what means conveyed away. They forthwith sent a messenger for the woman, who being come, Mr. Uniack demanded if she could give them any account of a gentleman, one Dr. Moore, that had been spirited out of their company about an hour before. The woman told him she could, and that he was then in a wood about a mile distant, preparing to take horse; that in one hand he had a glass of wine, in the other a piece of bread; that he was very much courted to eat and drink, but if he did either, he should never be free from a consumption, and pine away to death. Mr. Uniack gave the woman a cobb, [an irregularly shaped type of coin] and desired her to use some means for preventing his eating and drinking. She answered, He should neither eat nor drink with them: and then struck down her hand, as if she were snatching at something. When she had thus done, she often repeated a spell or charm in Irish, the substance whereof was; First she runs his pedigree back four generations, and calls his ancestors by their several names: then summons him from the East, the West, the North, and the South, from troops and regiments, especially from the governour mounted on the sorrel horse, &c. And after having repeated the charm, she gave them an account of the several places the doctor should be carried unto that night.

At first, from the wood to a Danes Fort about seven miles distant, where there should be great revelling and dancing, together with a variety of meats and liquors, to the eating and drinking whereof he should be very much importuned, but promised she would prevent his doing either. And from that fort he was to be carried twenty miles farther, where there would likewise be great merriment, and then to the Seven Churches; and towards daybreak should be returned safe to the company of his friends, without any damage or mischief whatsoever and so took leave of Mr. Uniack and Mr. Moore.

About six o'clock the next morning, Dr. Moore knocked at the door, and being let in, desired meat and drink might be provided for him, for that he was both hungry and thirsty, having been hurried from place to place all that night and after having refreshed himself, discours'd of the manner of his being taken away; that it seem'd to him there came into the room about twenty men, some mounted on horseback, others on foot, and laid hold on him that he was sensible of Mr. Uniack's and Mr. Moore's endeavours to have kept him, and of the force they used; but it was all to no purpose, for had there been fourty more they would have signified nothing; that from the house he was carried to a wood, about a mile distant, where was a fine horse prepared, and as he was about to mount, a glass of wine was given him and a crust of bread, but when he offered to eat and drink, they were both struck out of his hand. That from thence he went in the same company that had taken him away, to a Danes Fort about seven miles from the wood; that he imagined himself to be mounted on a white horse, whose motion was exceeding swift, and when they came to the fort, their company multiplied to about three hundred large and well-proportioned men and women; he who seem'd to be chief was mounted on a sorrel horse; that they all dismounted and fell to dancing, and that it came to the doctor's turn to lead a dance, which he did remember the tune he danced unto.

That after the dancing there appear'd a most sumptuous banquet, and the governour took him by the hand and desired him to eat; which he several times attempted, but was prevented by something that still struck the meat out of his hand: and so gives an account how from thence he was carried to the several places the old woman had mentioned the night before; and that about break of day, he found himself alone within sight of the inne.

Mr. Uniack was so curious as to go seven miles out of his way to see the Danes Fort, and the doctor was his guide; who traced the path he had travelled the night before so exactly, that if his horse went but a yard out of the track, he would presently turn him into it again; and that upon view of the fort, he found the grass so trodden down, and the ground beaten, as if five hundred men had been there.

This was related by Mr. Uniack in the presence of one Dr. Murphy, a civilian, Dr. Moore himself, and Mr. Ludlow, one of the six clerks of the high court of chancery, November 18, 1678.

For satisfaction of the licenser, I certifie this following relation was sent to me from Dublin, by a person whom I credit, and recommended in a letter bearing date the 23rd of November last, as true news much spoken of there.

Just another day in the 17th century Irish neighborhood, I guess

Friday, June 2, 2023

Weekend Link Dump

 

"The Witches' Cove," Follower of Jan Mandijn

It's time for this week's Link Dump!

And the Strange Company staffers are over the moon about it.



What the hell was the Tunguska Event?  (As an aside, I've read a lot about Tunguska--it's among my favorite historical mysteries--and I find it fascinating how many highly respectable Russian scientists just shrug and say matter-of-factly, "Eh, UFO crash.")

The sounds of Stonehenge.

The Windrush generation.

When Detroit was a "Little Paris."

A voyage down the new Suez Canal.

Why the ancient Chinese had jade burial suits.

A marriage saved by singing dogs.

A famed cadaver tomb.

The Roman Woman of Spitalfields.

An e-reader...from the 1930s.

When you summon your intended bridegroom and the Devil shows up instead.

How 1942 was the turning point in WWII.

The autobiographies of a Yorkshire gentlewoman.  Complete with ungrateful nieces and eye-pecking chickens!

A glimpse of medieval stand-up comedy.

The difficulties of being an English MP during the Civil War and interregnum.

The last day of Constantinople.

Willie Todd, who'd die to be married.

Nothing to see here, just octopuses building underwater cities.

1872's Great Diamond Hoax.

Repairing Notre Dame requires getting medieval.

More evidence that Neanderthals were more sophisticated than we thought.

The tragic end of the first female balloon pilot.

Some mysterious ancient carvings.

Somebody really wanted a portrait of Marie Antoinette's poodle.

The battle of Bound Brook.

The life of an 18th century Maid of Honor.

The first Penguin Books.

The oldest known Arabic cookbook.

A look at corpse medicine.

An escape from Sing Sing.

The Enola Mountain tragedy.

This week in Russian Weird visits a Chinese palace in Siberia.

Deacon Brodie's notorious double life.

A series of unsolved murders of young women.

Robots in 7th century India.

"The Wolf," a major figure in 11th century England.

That time America almost became a nation of hippo ranchers.

Part 2 of the "love poisoner."

That time when a chimpanzee war broke out in Nigeria.

The first American hotels.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a man who had a distressing Fairy Problem.  In the meantime, if you've never heard a Belarusian dulcimer, here's your big opportunity.