Books




Face of Winifred May Davies
Latest topics
» Why Jesus Is Not God
Mon 17 Apr 2017 - 0:09 by Karen

» The Fourth Reich
Fri 14 Apr 2017 - 14:14 by Karen

» Allah, The Real Serpent of the Garden
Tue 7 Mar 2017 - 11:45 by Karen

» THE INNOCENCE OF JEWS
Sat 4 Mar 2017 - 12:06 by Karen

» Hillary Clinton (Hillroy Was Here)
Fri 28 Oct 2016 - 17:38 by Karen

» Alien on the Moon
Thu 20 Oct 2016 - 21:57 by Karen

» Martian Nonsense Repeats Itself
Thu 20 Oct 2016 - 18:43 by Karen

» Enlil and Enki
Fri 7 Oct 2016 - 17:11 by Karen

» Israel Shoots Down Drone - Peter Kucznir's Threat
Wed 24 Aug 2016 - 22:55 by Karen

» Rome is Babylon
Sun 24 Jul 2016 - 21:27 by Karen

Links












Gallery



Missing Articles of 1890

Page 3 of 3 Previous  1, 2, 3

View previous topic View next topic Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 18 Mar 2012 - 0:53

June 18, 1890

A La Jack the Ripper.

LITTLE ROCK, Ark., June 17. - Late last night the servants' room at the residence of Rev. W.H. Vernon, corner Fifth and Sherman streets, was entered by some unknown person, who, with a knife, slashed the sleeping servant, Betty Jones. An ugly gash was inflicted, extending across her hips. The only clew so far discovered by the police is a handkerchief dropped by the man, on which are the initials "F.G."

Source: Hutchinson Daily News, Wednesday Morning, June 18, 1890, Page 8

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 18 Mar 2012 - 0:55

June 19, 1890

NEWS IN A NUTSHELL.

A Whitechapel foundling was recently actually named after the street in which the workhouse is situated.

Source: The Echo, Thursday June 19, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 18 Mar 2012 - 1:14

June 20, 1890

THE TOWER WHARF.

SIR, - At a time when strenuous efforts are being made to open the above space for the benefit of the "public" (?) I should like to put before you a few facts, from which I think you will gather that the agitation is nothing more than an attempt to confer a favour upon the political supporters and co-religionists of the honourable Member for Whitechapel; in any case it is quite certain that, were the space open tomorrow, the English public would be as much excluded as now, inasmuch as the place would be invaded by the Jewish inhabitants of the district, and as experience proves, were a concession is made, it is they who reap the benefit. In proof of my contention take for instance the open space surrounding the Tower, known as the "ditch." The General in residence decided to allow the boys of "East London" the use of this space for cricket and other games, the condition being that they obtained passes. Now, Sir, you will find the whole of this space completely and absolutely in the hands of Jewish lads residing in and around the neighbourhood of Whitechapel, and it is a positive fact, and I challenge a denial, that the lads (i.e. sons of soldiers, &c.) living within the Tower itself, are practically excluded, and have to seek other places for their recreation. But that is not all; we have in London now an organisation known as the "Boys' Brigade," and (to condense the matter as much as possible), there are two companies, almost in the immediate vicinity (viz., the 18th and 27th London), and though these lads are genuine, and most of them work hard during the day, they are hopelessly excluded, and, as a matter of fact, my friend, who is in command of the 18th London, actually obtained passes for his company, but he quickly realised the difficulties, and relinquished the idea with despair. - Yours, &c., AN ENGLISHMAN.

Source: The Echo, Friday June 20, 1890, Page 4

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 18 Mar 2012 - 1:24

June 22, 1890

WORSHIP-STREET.

AN UNLUCKY THIEF. - Michael O'Connor, 20, a tailor, was charged with having stolen from the person of John Evan Tibbs a portion of a gold chain. - The prosecutor, an elderly gentleman, living at Walthamstow, said that at half-past one o'clock that (Saturday) afternoon, when in Felton-street, Shoreditch, the prisoner suddenly snatched his watch-chain, breaking a piece off it. The watch remained in the pocket. The prisoner ran away with a portion of the chain, and he (prosecutor) pursued. He saw the pursuit taken up by others, but lost sight of the prisoner. Continuing the course, however, he presently saw that the prisoner was in custody, and charged him. - Corroborative evidence was given by a lad who used Whitechapel vernacular, and said he saw the "bloke" (indicating the prisoner) "sneak" the gent's watch-chain and pass it to a "pal." - Police-constable 307 G said that he stopped the prisoner, whom he saw running, and detained him until the prosecutor arrived. The latter was "20 minutes," said the constable, before he was able to speak. - It was said that the prisoner had only recently been released from gaol after serving a sentence of 12 months for a similar offence. - Mr. Montagu Williams ordered a remand for proof of previous conviction.

Source: Lloyd's Weekly London Newspaper, June 22, 1890, Page 10

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Mon 26 Mar 2012 - 3:26

June 24, 1890

BISHOP MORAN ON THE EDUCATION QUESTION.

After vespers at St. Joseph's Cathedral, on Sunday evening, Bishop Moran again referred to the education question. The following is a slightly condensed report of his address: -

I wish to speak again this evening on the great and important subject of education. No excuse is needed for my frequent discourses to the people of Dunedin, and to the people of my diocese, on a matter of such great moment. I greatly desire that my flock should understand this question, for knowledge is power. I wish all, both old and young, to have a good grasp of our real position; hence my frequent reference to the education question. Allow me tonight to trespass on your kind attention while I deal somewhat briefly with a historical view of the subject. When we Irishmen and Catholics consider the question of education, it is impossible not to carry our minds back to the early days of Christian Ireland - to the days when the monastic schools were founded by St. Patrick and Luan. Scarcely was the faith planted when Catholic education spread and flourished through the land. Monasteries, homes of piety and nurseries of learning, everywhere arose. Each monastery had its school, or schools, wherein was given education of every kind. The monasteries had their preparatory schools, their middle and higher schools, and their halls, in which the learning of the university was given in a finished style. And mark you, all these schools were free. Education in early Christian Ireland was entirely free; Irish teachers who were Irish monks received no fees. Their work was wholly a labour of love. Not only was tuition gratuitous, but the pupils were also supported gratuitously. They received their education, their living, and even their books, without payment. The Irish people had a real love for true education. They not only gave the best possible education to their own children, but also shared their educational advantages with the youth of other nations. In those days young men came from every nation of note on the Continent of Europe to perfect their education. England, Scotland, Wales, France, Germany, Belgium, Spain, Italy itself, had representatives in the great Irish schools. The Insula Doctorum gave them cheerful hospitality and varied learning. For many centuries the work of religion and learning went on side by side in Ireland. Irishmen were not taunted with ignorance in those days, when Scottish and English youth received gratuitous instruction in her monastic schools. Education only declined, or, rather, was rudely arrested in its onward course, when the Danes made their descent on the Irish coasts. The Northmen came in swarms. For nearly 300 years they carried on their work of devastation. They demolished churches and monasteries. They put to the sword or dispersed the monks; they scattered the scholars, and did their utmost to destroy education and religion. A last mighty effort rid the country for ever of the pest which had so marred the progress of education. The Irish may have been at that time comparatively ignorant and in some instances given to the vices which grow in troublous times. The Danes made way for the Anglo-Normans in the twelfth century. Of course education did not flourish during the time when the best energies of the nation were put forth against the invaders in defence of their independence. We invariably find in the history of Ireland that the restoration of peace always means the revival of learning. Hence we are not surprised to find in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries the Irish people again devoted to education. Once more monasteries covered the land. Each again had its public school. So numerous did schools become in consequence of the re-establishment of the old monasteries, that a good school was to be found in every parish. All people, high and low alike, had for the asking the blessing which, after religion, they most prized - an excellent education in secular matters. There was no burning school question then. Religion and education went together then as they should go now, in close relationship. The next phase of education in Ireland was when the unhappy events of the sixteenth century occurred. I shall not delay to picture the evil of this period of Ireland's history. Henry VIII used his great power to destroy the influence of the church which would not sanction his adulterous union. He confiscated the church lands, appropriated the possessions of the monasteries; he sequestrated the property even of the hospitals, and divided the ill-got wealth among his favourites - both men and women. Thus the support of teacher and scholar alike, and the patrimony of the poor was squandered in dissipation and indulgence. The churches were robbed; the true friend of education paralysed in its efforts for the public good. Ecclesiastical benefices were given to men whose sentiments were foreign to the religious aspirations of the people; schools were founded in every parish for the express purpose of changing the character of the Irish race. The English language was made compulsory; prayers were taught in English. The innovators tried to make the children say their rosary in the English language. Every effort was put forth to make the people anti-Catholic and anti-Irish. We come now to 1574. Elizabeth had a school established in every country town - a higher school for the middle class. In 1590 Trinity College, the Dublin University, was founded. All the schools founded by Elizabeth were anti-Catholic or anti-Irish. Irishmen and Catholics who did not wish to relinquish their faith and the spirit of nationality were debarred from all advantages. In the beginning of the seventeenth century James I confiscated Ulster; 100,000 acres were, however, set aside for churches, schools, and other public buildings. Highly endowed and commodious schools called Royal, with efficient masters, were erected at Armagh, Enniskillen, Dungannon, Cavan, Banagher, Raphoe, and Carysford. In the beginning of the seventeenth century we had in Ireland, provided by Government, parish schools, county town schools, and royal endowed schools. The object of these schools was to destroy the faith and nationality of the people. The attempt failed. The Irish people kept their children away from them. They held their faith and their nationality more precious than anything else. These vain attempts were followed by another fruitless effort in the establishment of the Erasmus Smith schools and the endowment schools. Schools wherein the pupils breathed an alien spirit multiplied enormously. The Irish people would not take the bait, and passed them by contemptuously. When I was a boy, I used to run by one of these schools under the impression that the devil himself was inside. The people believed that the devil of discord and the devil of denationalisation reigned within. In 1733, in the reign of George the II, the charter schools were established. Boulter was then Arch-bishop of Armagh. He was an Englishman, and a leading spirit in the movement to denationalise Ireland and make the people anti-Catholic. He tried all he could to destroy the faith and nationality of the Irish people. It was the fashion for the leading clergymen of non-Catholic churches to rail against the faith and national spirit of the Irish people. They applied to them the most opprobrious epithets - hypocrites, robbers, murderers, assassins, and ignorant. Mud-throwing was with the primate a qualification for promotion. The charter schools were founded at the expense of the Government, and 1,500,000 pounds were spent on their maintenance. Protestants were forbidden to frequent them; they were to be used to proselytise Catholic children. We now find in existence parish schools, county town schools, royal endowed schools, Erasmus Smith schools, diocesan schools, and charter schools, for poor Catholics. Every discreditable means were employed to force the children of poor Catholics to frequent them. Money was freely spent; exhortation and coaxing were lavishly resorted to. Not unfrequently men got hold of the children and secretly carried them off to distant parts of the country. These were taught to hate the religion of their fathers and mothers and the religion of their ancestors. Some poor young fellows ran away and came back to their native place, and to the practice of Catholicity. After 90 years of subtle persecution, this vile system, in which 1,500,000 pounds had been spent by Government, came to an end. The spirit of Boulter and men of his stamp and time does not seem to be dead yet; occasionally it manifests itself in various forms in Canada, United States, and here in Australasia. We argue the question of Catholic education for Catholic children on its merits, and sometimes we are met with abuse and calumny. The world has progressed, but the old spirit still lives. Vast numbers indeed, discarding the prejudices and narrowness of former times, consider the question in its true light, and in the spirit to do the right. But there are others who think and act differently. In 1811 the Kildare place school system made its appearance. At first things looked bright. Some Catholics were even on the board; but soon the object of the new foundations was made apparent, and like the rest, the Kildare place school system became a pious system of proselytising. For 300 years the hostile efforts were to no purpose, and education in Ireland became a scandal. In 1830 the national system was established. It was apparently, like the Kildare place system, a fair attempt to settle the question of justice to Catholics. But again efforts were made to change it into a proselytising system. In answer to the demand for equity the Government responded by building the godless colleges of Belfast, Galway, and Cork. Catholics never obtained justice; they were always offered what they did not want. Other denominations got what they wanted. The Anglicans got Trinity College, the Presbyterians their institute. Catholics got nothing. You have now an epitome of the history of education in Ireland. We are the inheritors of a spirit of faith and nationality which defied all hostile attempts. The old spirit of opposition has been mitigated, but still it lives. Irish Catholics obtained positions of distinction on the Continent as theologians, historians, chancellors of universities, who would not be allowed to teach the poor children at Home. Death was the penalty to teach, unless in an atmosphere of proselytism, A B C, or a d ad. The enactments showed that Government really aimed not at the enlightenment of the people, but the destruction of Catholicity. A few people who had saved some dry money in the bad times had a little means. They had ambition to give their children a good education, and they sent them abroad, where many rose to great distinction. They became generals, ambassadors, and even prime ministers of foreign courts. Very little care was had in the reign of Queen Anne for real education. Then, as formerly, the object of legislation in regard to education was to rob the Irish people of faith and nationality. Now we come to the banishment of the Catholic schoolmaster. Death was the penalty of his return. But now fresh trials came on. Property was confiscated. The priests, who took the greatest interest in education, were obliged to fly. They had to secrete themselves in the woods and bogs, and administer the Sacraments at the risk of their lives at dead of night. But still the domestic hearth was respected. A few who had kept some means obtained a little education, but the poorer classes were in a most deplorable state. There are still to be found those who, if they could, would deprive us of justice and fair play. From the time of Henry VIII to Queen Anne, Catholics had offered schools of which they could not avail themselves. But they were free in their own homes to educate their own children. This was a great boon, though they had the disadvantage of not having a public school, higher school, or university to which they could safely send their children. We find in Canada, in the United States, in Australia, even here in New Zealand, men the inheritors of the wealth, or at least the name, certainly the spirit, of the persecuting class in penal times, who point their finger at the ignorance, and crimes or sins of Irish Catholics. Now these men ought to blush for very shame when they calmly consider their action. If there is any truth in the charge that we have more than our proportion of crime, who is to blame? Who caused the supposed ignorance? Who tried in every conceivable way to keep a people in ignorance which would not on any account relinquish its faith? Who degraded the individuals, and attempted - unsuccessfully indeed, but persistently - to degrade a nation? The nature of the arguments advanced against giving us justice leads me to believe that there is not such a real desire for true education abroad as is pretended. If there be, why not extend educational advantages to all that all may participate in them? It is well known that Catholics will never accept a godless system of education. The education struggle here, and the experience of 300 years elsewhere, proves this. Our forefathers gave up position, property, and life in the cause of Catholic education, and simple people think that we are unworthy of them, that we shall accept a system which the persistent denial of justice leads us to believe was established for the express purpose of destroying Catholic faith. Great zeal is manifested in the cause of education, but the presence of the old persecuting spirit gives us ground for holding that a deliberate attempt is being made to destroy Catholic faith and Catholic unity. We are expected, at all events, silently to approve of a system which effectually excludes us from public and higher schools. Again, no matter how it may be denied, it is true that a Catholic name, certainly the profession of practical Catholicity, is often an obstacle to obtaining the position of teacher in the public service or to advance in the department of Education. I do not speak as one who has not had the experience of many years to justify my statement that very often when there is question of positions of emolument in the public or higher schools "no Catholic need apply." Argument on our side is constantly met with abuse by those who, in many cases, have not the manliness to append their names to their vilifications. Our demand for justice is met by the assertion that Catholics are an immoral people, a criminal class, who fill our gaols, lunatic asylums, and reformatories. Figures are given to show the worthlessness of Catholic citizens, and that they do not deserve to be assisted. Their schools are merely nurseries of crime! This is what the argument amounts to. Our Catholic schools are not as moral as public schools and high schools! Our children are not as well conducted as those of Government institutions! Who, with his eyes open, will make assertions which the unbiased testimony of our Protestant fellow citizens will refute? This is not the first time nor the tenth time that statistics have been brought forth to show that Catholics, being a degraded, worthless people, are unworthy of assistance. Again and again the old serpent is brought forth from his lair to hiss out words of hatred and arouse dormant bigotry. I deny the truth of the statistics brought forth and challenge investigation. I do this unhesitatingly, because I know that not unfrequently we find people in gaols registered as Catholics who are not Catholics. They give false names, and pose as Catholics to conceal their shame from friends. I have, too, before my mind instances of unfortunate Catholics who have been convicted very many times. One Catholic woman has, I believe, 150 petty offences against her name. Here are 150 different persons for the statistician's paper. Let the statistics be analysed, and the true record which can be charged against us seen. So thoroughly convinced am I that things are not what our opponents would make gullible people believe, that I am prepared to stake anything on the result of examination. But why, where there is question of a great subject like education, base the granting aid or not on what takes place in a remote and small country? If people want odious comparisons let them take up the condition of things in the mother countries. Compare, with the help of the statisticians' paper and official record, the criminal condition of Ireland and England or Ireland and Scotland. I do not want to say unkind things but simply to speak out the truth, no matter how distasteful, and refute an argument that, comparatively, Catholics are a worthless, criminal people. Take Catholic Ireland and non-Catholic England and Scotland, who now blushes for shame? Recent returns show an average for the whole country of 8 per cent illegitimate births in Scotland. How fares comparison with Connaught, the most Catholic province in Ireland, with its 1/2 per cent? We have coercion in Ireland; the people are goaded on to desperate acts, and yet Ireland's crimeless condition is without a parallel in the whole world. According to statistics, the statistics of a commissioner of prisons, fully five-sixths of the county prisons in Ireland are closed for want of inmates. One-half of the large convict prisons are also closed. Two great penal establishments - Spike Island and Lusk - have their doors locked against intruders. It is readily admitted that real crime is becoming rapidly unknown. The majority of convictions consist of petty offences, which, in the case of a more cool Englishman or shrewd Scotchman, would not have come before the court. Half the prisons are closed in Ireland, while in England new prisons are being built. In Ireland it is not unfrequently the only duty of the sheriff at assizes to present the presiding judge with a pair of white gloves. In England crime, and serious crime of the Whitechapel type, is daily increasing. If people want a list for the comparative value of Catholic and public school education in the production of useful citizens, let them work on a broader basis and give up petty mud throwing, which is without reason and without foundation. I ask you now to make up your minds to make even greater efforts in the future than you have made. I solemnly warn you, keep your children away from the Government schools. Believe me, the frequenting of these means the destruction of Catholic faith and Catholic unity. Remember the sacrifices made by your forefathers in the faith. They were chained for years in loathsome dungeons. They were obliged to flee their native land and remain in exile. They were cut to pieces and had to endure the greatest privations and tortures. But they bore their sufferings in the cause of Catholicity bravely and even cheerfully. We are not required to make such sacrifices. We have had to make some sacrifices in the past to save the faith of our children; we shall have to make more and perhaps greater in the future. I again ask you, the inheritors of Christian manliness and of uncompromising loyalty to the Catholic Church, to avoid everything that would weaken Catholic faith and Catholic unity.

Source: Otago Daily Times, Issue 8839, 24 June 1890, Page 4

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 3:17

June 26, 1890

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
By WASHINGTON IRVING.

This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and though his amorous toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes. Certain it is, his advances were signals for rival candidates to retire, who felt no inclination to cross a lion in his amours; insomuch, that when his horse was seen tied to Van Tassel's paling, on a Sunday night, a sure sign that his master was courting, or as it is termed, "sparking," within, all other suitors passed by in despair, and carried the war into other quarters.
Such was the formidable rival with whom Ichabod Crane had to contend, and considering all things a stouter man than he would have shrunk from the competition, and a wiser man would have despaired. He had, however, a happy mixture of pliability and perseverance in his nature; he was in form and spirit like a supple jack - yielding, but tough; though he bent, he never broke; and though he bowed beneath the slightest pressure, yet the moment it was away - jerk! - he was erect, and carried his head as high as ever.
To have taken the field openly against his rival would have been madness; for he was not a man to be thwarted in his amours any more than that stormy lover Achilles. Ichabod, therefore, made his advances in a quiet and gently insinuating manner. Under cover of his character of singing master he made frequent visits at the farm house; not that he had anything to apprehend from the meddlesome interference of parents, which is so often a stumbling block in the path of lovers. Balt Van Tassel was an easy, indulgent soul; he loved his daughter better even than his pipe, and, like a reasonable man and an excellent father, let her have her way in everything. His notable little wife, too, had enough to do to attend to her housekeeping and manage the poultry; for, as she sagely observed, ducks and geese are foolish things and must be looked after, but girls can take care of themselves. Thus, while the busy dame bustled about the house or plied her spinning wheel at one end of the piazza honest Balt would sit smoking his evening pipe at the other, watching the achievements of a little wooden warrior, who, armed with a sword in each hand, was valiantly fighting the wind on the pinnacle of the barn. In the mean time Ichabod would carry on his suit with the daughter by the side of the spring under the great elm or sauntering along in the twilight, that hour so favorable to the lover's eloquence.
I profess not to know how women's hearts are wooed and won. To me they have always been matters of riddle and admiration. Some seem to have but one vulnerable point, or door of access; while others have a thousand avenues, and may be captured in a thousand different ways. It is a great triumph of skill to gain the former, but still a greater proof of generalship to maintain possession of the latter, for a man must battle for his fortress at every door and window. He that wins a thousand common hearts is therefore entitled to some renown; but he who keeps undisputed sway over the heart of a coquette is indeed a hero. Certain it is, this was not the case with the redoubtable Brom Bones; and from the moment Ichabod Crane made his advances, the interests of the former evidently declined; his horse was no longer seen tied at the palings on Sunday nights, and a deadly feud gradually arose between him and the preceptor of Sleepy Hollow.
Brom, who had a degree of rough chivalry in his nature, would fain have carried matters to open warfare, and settled their pretensions to the lady according to the mode of those most concise and simple reasoners, the knights errant of yore - by single combat; but Ichabod was too conscious of the superior might of his adversary to enter the lists against him; he had overheard the boast of Bones that he would "double the schoolmaster up and put him on a shelf," and he was too wary to give him an opportunity. There was something extremely provoking in this obstinately pacific system; it left Brom no alternative but to draw upon the funds of rustic wagery in his disposition, and to play off boorish practical jokes upon his rival. Ichabod became the object of whimsical persecution to Bones and his gang of rough riders. They harried his hitherto peaceful domains; smoked out his singing school by stopping up the chimney; broke into the school house at night, in spite of his formidable fastenings of withe and window stakes, and turned everything topsy turvy; so that the poor schoolmaster began to think all the witches in the country held their meetings there. But what was still more annoying, Brom took all opportunities of turning him into ridicule in presence of his mistress, and had a scoundrel dog whom he taught to whine in the most ludicrous manner and introduced as a rival of Ichabod's, to instruct her in psalmody.
In this way matters went on for some time, without producing any material effect on the relative situations of the contending powers. On a fine autumnal afternoon, Ichabod, in pensive mood, sat enthroned on the lofty stool from whence he usually watched all the concerns of his little literary realm. In his hand he swayed a ferule, that scepter of despotic power; the birch of justice reposed on three nails, behind the throne, a constant terror to evil doers; while on the desk before him might be seen sundry contraband articles and prohibited weapons, detected upon the persons of idle urchins; such as half munched apples, popguns, whirligigs, fly cages, and whole legions of rampant little paper gamecocks. Apparently there had been some appalling act of justice recently inflicted, for his scholars were all busily intent upon their books, or slyly whispering behind them with one eye kept upon the master; and a kind of buzzing stillness reigned throughout the school room. It was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of a negro in tow cloth jacket and trousers, a round crowned fragment of a hat, like the cap of Mercury, and mounted on the back of a ragged, wild, half broken colt, which he managed with a rope by way of halter. He came clattering up to the school door with an invitation to Ichabod to attend a merry-making, or "quilting frolic," to be held that evening at Mynheer Van Tassel's; and having delivered his message with the air of importance and effort at fine language which a negro is apt to display on petty embassies of the kind, he dashed over the brook, and was seen scampering away up the hollow, full of the importance and hurry of his mission.
All was now bustle and hubbub in the late quiet school room. The scholars were hurried through their lessons without stopping at trifles; those who were nimble skipped over half with impunity, and those who were tardy had a smart application now and then in the rear, to quicken their speed or help them over a tall word. Books were flung aside without being put away on the shelves, inkstands were overturned, benches thrown down and the whole school was turned loose an hour before the usual time; bursting forth like a legion of young imps, yelping and racketing about the green in joy at their early emancipation.
The gallant Ichabod now spent at least an extra half hour at his toilet, crushing and furbishing up his best and indeed only suit of rusty black, and arranging his locks by a bit of broken looking glass that hung up in the school house. That he might make his appearance before his mistress in the true style of a cavalier, he borrowed a horse from the farmer with whom he was domiciliated, a choleric old Dutchman of the name of Hans Van Ripper, and thus gallantly mounted, issued forth like a knight errant in quest of adventures. But it is meet I should, in the true spirit of romantic story, give some account of the looks and equipments of my hero and his steed. The animal he bestrode was a broken down plow horse that had outlived almost every thing but his viciousness. He was gaunt and shaggy, with a ewe neck and a head like a hammer; his rusty mane and tail were tangled and knotted with burrs; one eye had lost its pupil, and was glaring and spectral, but the other had the gleam of a genuine devil in it. Still he must have had fire and mettle in his day, if we may judge from his name, which was Gunpowder. He had, in fact, been a favorite steed of his master's, the choleric Van Ripper, who was a furious rider, and had infused, very probably, some of his own spirit into the animal; for, old and broken down as he looked, there was more of the lurking devil in him than in any young filly in the country.
Ichabod was a suitable figure for such a steed. He rode with short stirrups, which brought his knees nearly up to the pommel of the saddle; his sharp elbows stuck out like grasshoppers'; he carried his whip perpendicularly in his hand, like a scepter, and as the horse jogged on the motion of his arms was not unlike the flapping of a pair of wings. A small wool hat rested on the top of his nose, for so his scanty strip of forehead might be called, and the skirts of his black coat fluttered out almost to the horse's tail. Such was the appearance of Ichabod and his steed as they shambled out of the gate of Hans Van Ripper, and it was altogether such an apparition as is seldom to be met with in broad daylight.
It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple and scarlet. Streaming files of wild ducks began to make their appearance high in the air; the bark of the squirrel might be heard from the groves of beech and hickory nuts, and the pensive whistle of the quail at intervals from the neighboring stubble field.
The small birds were taking their farewell banquets. In the fullness of their revelry they fluttered, chirping and frolicking, from bush to bush and tree to tree; capricious from the very profusion and variety around them. There was the honest cock robin, the favorite game of stripling sportsmen, with its loud querulous note, and the twittering blackbirds flying in sable clouds; and the golden winged woodpecker, with his crimson crest, his broad black gorget, and splendid plumage; and the cedar bird, with its red tipt wings and yellow tipt tail, and its little monteiro cap of feathers; and the bluejay, that noisy coxcomb, in his gay light blue coat and white underclothes, screaming and chattering, nodding and bobbing, and bowing, and pretending to be on good terms with every songster of the grove.
As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way his eye, ever open to every symptom of culinary abundance, ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly autumn. On all sides he beheld vast stores of apples, some hanging in oppressive opulence on the trees; some gathered into baskets and barrels for the market; others heaped up in rich piles for the cider press. Farther on he beheld great fields of Indian corn, with its golden ears peeping from their leafy coverts, and holding out the promise of cakes and hasty pudding; and the yellow pumpkins lying beneath them, turning up their fair round bellies to the sun, and giving ample prospects of the most luxurious of pies; and anon he passed the fragrant buckwheat fields, breathing the odor of the bee hive, and as he beheld them, soft anticipations stole over his mind of dainty slap-jacks, well buttered and garnished with honey or treacle by the delicate little hand of Katrina Van Tassel.
Thus feeding his mind with many sweet thoughts and "sugared suppositions," he journeyed along the sides of a range of hills which look out upon some of the goodliest scenes of the mighty Hudson. The sun gradually wheeled his broad disk down into the west. The wide bosom of the Tappaan Zee lay motionless and glassy, excepting that here and there a gentle undulation waved and prolonged the blue shadow of the distant mountain. A few amber clouds floated in the sky, without a breath of air to move them. The horizon was of a fine golden tint, changing gradually into a pure apple green, and from that into the deep blue of the mid heaven. A slanting ray lingered on the woody crests of the precipices that overhung some parts of the river, giving greater depth to the dark gray and purple of their rocky sides. A sloop was loitering in the distance, dropping slowly down with the tide, her sail hanging uselessly against the mast; and as the reflection of the sky gleamed along the still water it seemed as if the vessel was suspended in the air.
It was toward evening that Ichabod arrived at the castle of the Heer Van Tassel, which he found thronged with the pride and flower of the adjacent country. Old farmers, a spare, leathern faced race, in homespun coats and breeches, blue stockings, huge shoes and magnificent pewter buckles. Their brisk, withered little dames, in close crimped caps, long waisted gowns, homespun petticoats, with scissors and pin cushions and gay calico pockets hanging on the outside. Buxom lasses, almost as antiquated as their mothers, excepting where a straw hat, a find riband, or perhaps a white frock, gave symptoms of city innovations. The sons, in short square skirted coats, with rows of stupendous brass buttons, and their hair generally queued in the fashion of the times, especially if they could procure an eelskin for the purpose, it being esteemed throughout the country as a potent nourisher and strengthener of the hair.
Brom Bones, however, was the hero of the scene, having come to the gathering on his favorite steed Daredevil, a creature, like himself, full of metal and mischief, and which no one but himself could manage. He was, in fact, noted for preferring vicious animals, given to all kinds of tricks which kept the rider in constant risk of his neck, for he held a tractable, well broken horse as unworthy of a lad of spirit.
Fain would I pause to dwell upon the world of charms that burst upon the enraptured gaze of any hero, as he entered the state parlor of Van Tassel's mansion. Not those of the bevy of buxom lasses, with their luxurious display of red and white; but the ample charms of a genuine Dutch country tea table in the sumptuous time of autumn. Such heaped up platters of cakes of various and almost indescribable kinds, known only to experienced Dutch housewives! There was the doughty doughnut, the tender olykoek and the crisp and crumbling cruller; sweet cakes and short cakes, ginger cakes and honey cakes and the whole family of cakes. And then there were apple pies and peach pies and pumpkin pies; besides slices of ham and smoked beef, and moreover delectable dishes of preserved plums and peaches and pears and quinces, not to mention broiled shad and roasted chickens; together with bowls of milk and cream, all mingled higgledy-piggledy, pretty much as I have enumerated them, with the motherly teapot sending up its clouds of vapor from the midst - heaven bless the mark! I want breath and time to discuss this banquet, as it deserves, and am too eager to get on with my story. Happily, Ichabod Crane was not in so great a hurry as his historian, but did ample justice to every dainty.
He was a kind and thankful creature, whose heart dilated in proportion as his skin was filled with good cheer, and whose spirits rose with eating, as some men's do with drink. He could not help, too, rolling his large eyes round him as he ate, and chuckling with the possibility that he might one day be lord of all this scene of almost unimaginable luxury and splendor. Then, he thought, how soon he'd turn his back upon the old schoolhouse; snap his fingers in the face of Hans Van Ripper, and every other niggardly patron, and kick any itinerant pedagogue out of doors that should dare to call him comrade!
Old Baltus Van Tassel moved about among his guests with a face dilated with content and good humor, round and jolly as the harvest moon. His hospitable attentions were brief, but expressive, being confined to a shake of the hand, a slap on the shoulder, a loud laugh, and a pressing invitation to "fall to, and help themselves."
And now the sound of the music from the common room or hall summoned to the dance. The musician was an old grey headed negro, who had been the itinerant orchestra of the neighborhood for more than half a century. His instrument was as old and battered as himself. The greater part of the time he scraped away on two or three strings, accompanying every movement of the bow with a motion of the head, bowing almost to the ground and stamping with his foot whenever a fresh couple were to start.
Ichabod prided himself upon his dancing as much as upon his vocal powers. Not a limb, not a fiber about him was

[img][/img]

idle; and to have seen his loosely hung frame in full motion and clattering about the room, you would have thought St. Vitus himself, that blessed patron of the dance, was figuring before you in person. He was the admiration of all the negroes, who, having gathered, of all ages and sizes, from the farm and the neighborhood, stood forming a pyramid of shining black faces at every door and window, gazing with delight at the scene, rolling their white eyeballs and showing grinning rows of ivory from ear to ear. How could the flogger of urchins be otherwise than animated and joyous? The lady of his heart was his partner in the dance, and smiling graciously in reply to all his amorous oglings; while Brom Jones, sorely smitten with love and jealousy, sat brooding by himself in one corner.
When the dance was at an end, Ichabod was attracted to a knot of the sager folks, who, with old Van Tassel, sat smoking at one end of the piazza, gossiping over former times, and drawling out long stories about the war.
This neighborhood at the time of which I am speaking, was one of those highly favored places abound with chronicle and great men. The British and American line had run near it during the war. It had, therefore, been the scene of marauding, and infested with refugees, cowboys and all kinds of border chivalry. Just sufficient time had elapsed to enable each story teller to dress up his tale with a little becoming fiction, and, in the indistinctness of his recollection, to make himself the hero of every exploit.
There was the story of Doffue Martling, a large blue bearded Dutchman, who had nearly taken a British frigate with an old iron nine pounder from a mud breastwork, only that his gun burst at the sixth discharge. And there was an old gentleman who shall be nameless, being too rich a mynheer to be lightly mentioned, who, in the battle of White Plains, being an excellent master of defense, parried a musket ball with a small sword, insomuch that he absolutely felt it whiz round the blade, and glance off at the hilt; in proof of which he was ready at any time to show the sword, with the hilt a little bent. There were several more that had been equally great in the field, not one of whom but was persuaded that he had a considerable hand in bringing the war to a happy termination.
But all these were nothing to the tales of ghosts and apparitions that succeeded. The neighborhood is rich in legendary treasures of the kind. Local tales and superstitions thrive best in these sheltered, long settled retreats, but are trampled under foot by the shifting throng that forms the population of most of our country places. Besides, there is no encouragement for ghosts in most of our villages, for they have scarcely had time to finish their first nap and turn themselves in their graves, before their surviving friends have travelled away from the neighborhood, so that when they turn out at night to walk their rounds, they have no acquaintance left to call upon. This is perhaps the reason why we seldom hear of ghosts except in our long established Dutch communities.
The immediate cause, however, of the prevalence of supernatural stories in these parts, was doubtless owing to the vicinity of Sleepy Hollow. There was a contagion in the very air that blew from that haunted region; it breathed forth an atmosphere of dreams and fancies infecting all the land. Several of the Sleepy Hollow people were present at Van Tassel's, and, as usual, were doling out their wild and wonderful legends. Many dismal tales were told about funeral trains, and mourning cries and wailings heard and seen about the great tree where the unfortunate Maj. Andre was taken, and which stood in the neighborhood. Some mention was made also of the woman in white, that haunted the dark glen at Raven Rock, and was often heard to shriek on winter nights before a storm, having perished there in the snow. The chief part of the stories, however, turned upon the favorite specter of Sleepy Hollow, the headless horseman, who had been heard several times of late, patrolling the country; and, it is said, tethered his horse nightly among the graves in the churchyard.
The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits. It stands on a knoll, surrounded by locust trees and lofty elms, from among which its decent, whitewashed walls shine modestly forth, like Christian purity, beaming through the shades of retirement. A gentle slope descends from it to a silver sheet of water, bordered by high trees, between which peeps may be caught at the blue hills of the Hudson. To look upon this grass grown yard, where the sunbeams seems to sleep so quietly, one would think that there at least the dead might rest in peace. On one side of the church extends a wide woody dell, along which raves a large brook among broken rocks and trunks of fallen trees. Over a deep black part of the stream, not far from the church, was formerly thrown a wooden bridge; the road that led to it, and the bridge itself were thickly shaded by overhanging trees, which cast a gloom about it, even in the day time; but occasioned a fearful darkness at night. Such was one of the favorite haunts of the headless horseman, and the place where he was most frequently encountered. The tale was told of old Brouwer, a most heretical disbeliever in ghosts, how he met the horseman returning from his foray into Sleepy Hollow, and was obliged to get up behind him, how they galloped over bush and brake, over hill and swamp, until they reached the bridge, when the horseman suddenly turned into a skeleton, threw old Brouwer into the brook, and sprang away over the tree tops with a clap of thunder.
This story was immediately matched by a thrice marvelous adventure of Brom Bones, who made light of the galloping Hessian as an arrant jockey. He affirmed that on returning one night from the neighboring village of Sing Sing he had been overtaken by this midnight trooper; that he offered to race with him for a bowl of punch, and should have won it too, for Daredevil beat the goblin horse all hollow, but just as they came to the church bridge the Hessian bolted and vanished in a flash of fire.
All these tales, told in that drowsy undertone with which men talk in the dark, the countenances of the listeners only now and then receiving a casual gleam from the glare of a pipe, sunk deep in the mind of Ichabod. He repaid them in kind with large extracts from his invaluable author, Cotton Mather, and added many marvelous events that had taken place in his native state of Connecticut, and fearful sights which he had seen in his nightly walks about Sleepy Hollow.


Last edited by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 23:03; edited 2 times in total

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 3:42

June 27, 1890

ESTABLISHED 1861.

MATHEWS,
COACHBUILDER,
KING STREET, DUNEDIN.

FOR SALE AND MADE TO ORDER.
SPRING CARTS, VILLAGE CARTS,
WHITECHAPEL CARTS,
STATION WAGGONS, SPRING DRAYS,
EXPRESS WAGGONS,
DOUBLE BUGGIES, SINGLE BUGGIES,
FAMILY WAGGONETTES.

Coach-painting and Repairs by first-class workmen and at the Lowest Possible Charges.

Source: Clutha Leader, Volume XVI, Issue 832, 27 June 1890, Page 1

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 3:46

July 3, 1890

NEWS IN A NUTSHELL.

Salvation Army rescue work, which was commenced in Whitechapel some years ago, has now been extended to several provincial towns - and even to Canada, Australia, Sweden, and Holland.

Source: The Echo, Thursday July 3, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 3:50

July 4, 1890

ESTABLISHED 1861.

MATHEWS,
COACHBUILDER,
KING STREET, DUNEDIN.

FOR SALE AND MADE TO ORDER.
SPRING CARTS, VILLAGE CARTS,
WHITECHAPEL CARTS,
STATION WAGGONS, SPRING DRAYS,
EXPRESS WAGGONS,
DOUBLE BUGGIES, SINGLE BUGGIES,
FAMILY WAGGONETTES.

Coach-painting and Repairs by first-class workmen and at the Lowest Possible Charges.

Source: Clutha Leader, Volume XVII, Issue 833, 4 July 1890, Page 1

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 4:11

July 7, 1890

LONDON WEEKLY LETTER.
SIR EDWARD BRADFORD, THE NEW POLICE COMMISSIONER, IN OFFICE

His Training and Qualifications for the Office.

LONDON, July 6. - [Special.] - Sir Edward Bradford, the new commissioner of police, is taking hold with a firm grasp and enforcing discipline in a way that demonstrates his training in the service in the east. It is beginning to dawn on the opponents of the government and especially the Irish contingent that Bradford is a sort of modern Fouche, and that his experience as director of the secret police system of India may come into valuable play in his service in the tory cabinet.
Even under Commissioner Munroe the London police were sometimes used for political work in assisting the Times in its suit with Parnell. Under Sir Edward Bradford this work will have an experienced head to guide and direct it.
The metropolitan members of parliament, irrespective of party, were not pleased with the suggestion from an old Indian officer that the new commissioner was qualified for his office by effective service in suppression of thugs in Great Britain's Asiatic possessions. Making all allowances for the Whitechapel murders, they are not prepared to admit that London is infested with thugs and highwaymen. They wanted a civilian for commissioner of police, and some of them also want the police put under authority of the county council, instead of under the direction of the cabinet, through the secretary of state. The question of local control of the police shows signs of becoming a leading issue in British politics.
An extraordinary spectacle is the house of lords' attention to its own decay as a legislative body.
Lord Ribblesdale is the peer who dared to hold up the mirror to the representatives of titled aristocracy, and it must have made some of the lords feel uncomfortable about the neck when their noble friend began his speech with allusion to the guillotine and its deadly work in the French revolution. The burden of his address was that the peers neglected their duties, and he proposed as a remedy that only those who were regular in attendance should be allowed to vote. He quoted from Ragehot's work on the English constitution to the effect that "some day or other the small attendance of the house of lords will destroy the house of lords."
The subject was dropped after a brief discussion, but it has served in calling a public attention to the fact hardly thought of before. The lords themselves do not seem to put much value on the great privileges which they hold by claim of noble birth. Out of a possible attendance of about 550 the average is less than forty. The indications are, therefore, that when the people get ready to abolish the house of lords that body will be in condition for the funeral.
While on the subject of the house of lords it may be added that Prince Albert Victor, who has just taken a seat in that house, has another name besides those by which he is generally known. His final name is Edward, and presumably if he lives to be king, he will be King Edward.

Source: The Galveston Daily News, Monday July 7, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 4:14

July 15, 1890

The latest display in imitation of the atrocity of Jack the Ripper is reported from Virginia, where a fiend assassinated two disreputable women.

Source: Lebanon Daily News, Tuesday July 15, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 4:22

July 21, 1890

JACK THE RIPPER.
Another Supposed Murder Bordering Upon the Salvage Edge of Whitechapel.

A heavy trunk was to have been moved from 203 Eighth street yesterday, and when the Express Company called for it they noticed a terrible obnoxious smell. Their curiosity was at once aroused, and the driver suggested opening the trunk. "Youst yons look a letle oudt," was heard from the owner, "Dot vis mine Limberger cheese dot youse smell, undt I vant mind drunk checked to Germany." "We check baggage to all parts of the United States," replied the driver of the Whitney Standard & Oakland Transfer Company. Their office is 422 Ninth Street.

Source: Oakland Daily Evening Tribune, Monday July 21, 1890, Page 4

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Tue 27 Mar 2012 - 4:29

July 30, 1890

JACK THE RIPPER CAUGHT AGAIN.

Jack the Ripper Caught.

HALIFAX, July 25. - A Halifax lady, at present visiting a distinguished London official, writes to friends here that Jack the Ripper is under arrest in that city, and has been for some time. The "Ripper," she says, is a medical student, and his arrest was made on the strength of information given by a sister. The authorities have kept the matter strictly secret in order to work up a case against the man. The chain of evidence is very complicated. This information, though startling, is vouched for by the writer of the letter, who accidentally came into possession of the facts.

Source: The Telegraph, July 30, 1890, Page 2

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Wed 28 Mar 2012 - 18:32

June 30, 1890

JACK THE RIPPER.

The excitement caused by this inhuman monster is scarcely equaled by that produced by the great discovery of Dr. Miles - the Restorative Nervine. It speedily cures nervous prostration, change of life, pain, dullness and confusion in head, fits, sleeplessness, the blues, neuralgia, palpitation, monthly pains, etc. Mr. John S. Wolf, druggist, Hillsdale, Mich.; Talbott & Moss, Greensburg, Ind.; and A.W. Blackburn of Wooster, O., says that "The Nervine sells better than anything we ever sold, and gives universal satisfaction." Dr. Miles' new illustrated treatise on the Nerves and Heart and trial bottle free at J.O. Christie's or at H. Germann's.

Source: The Quincy Daily Journal, June 30, 1890, Page 6

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Wed 28 Mar 2012 - 18:39

July 14, 1890

JACK THE RIPPER.

The excitement caused by this inhuman monster is scarcely equaled by that produced by the great discovery of Dr. Miles - the Restorative Nervine. It speedily cures nervous prostration, change of life, pain, dullness and confusion in head, fits, sleeplessness, the blues, neuralgia, palpitation, monthly pains, etc. Mr. John S. Wolf, druggist, Hillsdale, Mich.; Talbott & Moss, Greensburg, Ind.; and A.W. Blackburn of Wooster, O., say that "The Nervine sells better than anything we ever sold, and gives universal satisfaction." Dr. Miles' new illustrated treatise on the Nerves and Heart and trial bottle free at J.O. Christie's or at H. Germann's.

Source: The Quincy Daily Journal, July 14, 1890, Page 8

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Wed 28 Mar 2012 - 18:58

August 3, 1890

READY TO BE READ.
New Books on the Shelves of the Quincy Free Library.

They Will be Ready for Circulation Tomorrow Morning - The Books Must be Called for by Author and Title - They Comprise Fiction, Juvenile, Miscellaneous and Biography and Travel.

The following new books will be ready for circulation tomorrow morning at the public library. The proper call numbers are appended to the departments of fiction and juvenile. In the other departments, for the present, books must be called for by author and title.

A.W. Tyler, librarian.

MISCELLANEOUS.

Ripper, W. - Steam.

Source: The Quincy Daily Whig, August 3, 1890, Page 3


***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Fri 4 May 2012 - 9:54

August 4, 1890

HAD A RAZOR.
Harry Ervin Locked Up and Faints in Police Court.

Harry Ervin, a young tough of no little notoriety, procured enough intoxicating stuff behind the screens of municipal morality in this city yesterday, to make him viciously drunk. Ervin was flourishing a razor on South Calhoun street early last evening, which with he threatened to become a second installment of "Jack the Ripper." Officer Patrick O'Ryan stole up quietly from behind and very neatly tried a pair of nippers on the young tough. The prisoner was kept in a cell all night, and this morning was arraigned in police court. The effects of his late spree, together with the oppressive heat, caused Ervin to faint before the mayor had sentenced him to eleven days in jail. The young man will probably receive attention in the jail hospital.

Source: The Fort Wayne Sentinel, Monday August 4, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Fri 4 May 2012 - 10:05

August 11, 1890

A Boy's Prayer.

Smart children's saying are rather overdone, but there was a good deal of diplomacy about a little fellow who prayed long and earnestly for a double ripper. Finally his mother told him that perhaps God didn't think best for him to have a double ripper, and his next prayer was formed a little differently, "O Lord, please send me two sleds and a board." - Springfield Homestead.

Source: The Lima Daily Times, August 11, 1890


***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Fri 4 May 2012 - 13:55

August 13, 1890

THE ART OF MAKING UP.
A NOTED WIGMAKER TELLS HOW DISGUISES ARE EFFECTED.

Making a Man's Chin Look Unshaved, Eradication of Personal Peculiarities a Very Important Item in Disguising a Person - Cost of the Work.

Mr. Charles H. Fox, the celebrated wig-maker of Covent Garden, has recently explained that he is constantly in the habit of disguising persons for purposes quite unknown to him. Being of opinion that a few more details about his "unholy art" would not be without interest, we dispatched a representative to see Mr. Fox, who went to business at once.
"You would be astonished," he began, "to know the number of people who come here to be disguised. It has grown into a part of our regular business. Men of all classes come - gentlemen, detectives, amateur detectives, and I do not doubt that I have disguised on many occasions some of the greatest criminals of the day. Of course it is none of my business to inquire into the purposes for which these disguises are assumed, though sometimes I am told. The people who come generally have some tale to tell on the first occasion, but I take these tales with a grain or two of salt. A large number of private detectives and even Scotland Yard men come to me, and as I know their business I ask no questions. That they should disguise themselves is perfectly legitimate. However, as I was saying, sometimes I am told afterward what the disguise was wanted for.

MANNER OF DISGUISING.

"Why, I have a customer at the present time who comes in sometimes two or three times a week. He is made up as a middle aged man and goes out of the shop so completely disguised that none of his friends know him. I don't know what his object is. He seldom stays away more than two or three hours, then comes back, resumes his natural dress and appearance and I hear no more of him till he comes again to be disguised. I fancy it is a case of "cherchez la femme," but, of course, it is no business of mine."
"Do you ever have ladies to disguise?"
"No. In fact, I think I may say never. You see the art of making up comes natural to almost all women. I think it is born in them. They all understand how to beautify themselves. And if they want to disguise themselves they prefer to trust to their own ingenuity. A change of dress, a veil, an alteration in the mode of doing the hair, a pair of spectacles and there you are; detection is almost impossible."
"Now, Mr. Fox, how do you set about disguising a person?"
"Oh, it is very easy. We change the expression of the face by deepening shadows, alter the shape of the eyebrows by touching with a trifle of color, put a little hair on with spirit gum, change the fashion of the hair on the head, and sometimes throw into prominence the bones and muscles of the neck. Making up for the street is totally different to making up for the stage. For daylight use we must employ as little paint as possible. A piece of burnt paper produces a lovely and most delicate color which we use for deepening shadows, and it is imperceptible to the naked eye of the ordinary observer.
"I can produce the appearance of a chin which has not been shaved for three or four days in a very simple manner. The face is first toned to the requisite shade; then covered with a thin layer of spirit gum; then a quantity of finely cropped hair is then dabbed on to the chin and cheeks when the gum is nearly dry. Of course the things to be avoided are to leave the gum shiny and to have the hair dabbed on in patches. Practice makes perfect, and an adept hand never makes these blunders.

MINOR POINTS OF THE ART.

"Crepe hair may be used for whiskers or beard in an absolutely undetectable manner if carefully put on and trimmed afterward. But I prefer, instead of using wigs or false hair, to alter the dressing of a man's own hirsute appendages. Thus, in your own case, by turning up your mustache, by showing your upper lip, just altering the set of your eyebrows a little and by deepening the shadows on your face and neck a little you would find your face completely altered. But there is one important thing in effecting a disguise which you must not forget. It is not alone the head and face which must be altered. The attire, the dress, must undergo just as complete a change. A turned down collar, a different suit of clothes, boots and hat, and even the pocket handkerchief needs to be different from that you usually carry. Why, do you know that the very manner of carrying a handkerchief in the pocket has been sufficient before now to detect a person through a clever disguise?"
"How long does it take to effect one of your startling disguises?"
"From ten minutes to half an hour, according to the character to be assumed and the amount of work required. This also regulates the cost, which is from half a guinea upward. In ten minutes, for half a guinea, I will disguise you so completely that neither your own mother, your wife nor the editor of your paper would know you. As I have said, I prefer not to use wigs - of course their use increases the cost - and I always demand a deposit if I loan them. Yes, sometimes I get suspicious characters; then I notify Bow street.
"During the Jack the Ripper scare I must have had hundreds of customers. At last it got such a big thing, and I took such an interest in the affair, I sent across to Bow street, and several of my customers were shadowed. One was followed to Mentone and another to New York. They all professed to be amateur detectives, but I fancy some were anything but that, and I even dare say that the gentleman himself may have passed through my hands more than once. It is quite a common thing for large publicans, who own a number of houses, to disguise themselves and visit their various places to watch and see if there is any shady business going on with their responsible representatives, but I think the majority of my customers are jealous husbands who think it necessary to keep a sharp eye on their wives." - Pall Mall Gazette.

Source: Bismarck Daily Tribune, Wednesday August 13, 1890, Page 2

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Fri 4 May 2012 - 14:06

August 19, 1890

A Brutal Contest.

CHICAGO, Aug. 19. - A dog fight for $500 between "Jack, the Ripper," owned by Farmer Bros., and Dennis, the property of "Mickey" Free, took place Sunday in Indiana just across the State line. The fight lasted for two hours and thirty-six minutes, when it was given to "Jack, the Ripper." Dennis had his jaw broken and one leg knocked out. He was taken out and shot. The victorious dog lost one eye in the contest. Two thousand dollars changed hands on the fight.

Source: The Salem Daily News, Tuesday August 19, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Fri 4 May 2012 - 14:17

August 21, 1890

Information comes by way of Halifax that the notorious Jack the Ripper has been under arrest in London for some time. The story runs that he is a medical student, and was arrested on the strength of information given by his own sister. The sudden cessation of the ripper's terrible work has been remarked, and this statement, which comes from a Halifax woman now visiting a distinguished official in London, may furnish the explanation.

Source: Logansport Daily Reporter, Thursday August 21, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sat 5 May 2012 - 18:30

August 31, 1890

ABOUT ENGLISHWOMEN.
WHAT THE WORLD FEMININE TALKS OF OVER THE SEA.

Some of the Peculiar Manners of the British Matron - Hospital Saturday in London - A Woman Stock Broker - University Settlement.

LONDON, Aug. 29. - Other women, other manners, some of them interesting. A month ago in the Isle of Man it surprised me to see the women of a party of English tourists living on pension come down to breakfast in their stocking feet, pick up their shoes, cleaned by the "boots," from the table in the hall, fetch them into the dining room and put them on in public, elevating their feet upon chairs while they bent over to fasten the buttons. They were very estimable ladies, who thus put their toilet operations on evidence, and this same frankness runs through much of the English life and sometimes accomplishes more than methods of indirection.
Hospital Saturday in London, for example, is one of the city's most characteristic spectacles. The collection of funds is in the hands of women, and instead of putting out boxes, as in New York, where the charitably disposed may drop their offerings, the London girls themselves turn out in battalions. From early morning until sunset they fill the streets. There are thousands of them. Each woman has a little table by the curbstone or on a corner. In Piccadilly or the Strand you may pass three tables on a single block, each made gay with potted plants or bouquets of field poppies and daisies. The girls who tend the tables put on white frocks and engaging smiles. They rattle their little red boxes in the face of every passer, and it costs a man from sixpence to a shilling to get to his place of business, at the rate of a penny for each petty collector. There are many devices for making the tables enticing. Perched on one sits a chubby 2-year-old munching bread and butter, while she shakes gleefully her box half full of coppers. Toddling about another is a small boy in sailor togs, who catches you by the knees and without toll will not let you go by. At the next sits a group of young women at their embroidery, a battery few can pass unscathed. Every time your 'bus stops a box is held up to it and a hail of small coin jingles down. As the afternoon advances you see the indefatigable collectors lighting spirit lamps and making tea for themselves, pouring it into quaint little cups of decorated china, all in the open air, and who could resist such an all day devotion?
The Englishwoman who goes into business does so with the same push and straightforward energy. Some of the gentlewomen who piece out their incomes by trade show a rare intelligence in their methods. Two restaurants for women - things often talked of in New York but never attained - have resulted from the efforts of Mme. Isabel to provide attractive food at low rates for her employees. Mme. Isabel is Mrs. Cooper-Oakley, the Girton girl who went into millinery; and whatever may be said of her bonnets, her restaurants are very creditable results of university training. So pretty are they and so dainty that, instead of looking for their patronage wholly to apprentices and "improvers," the "Dorothies" have become favourite resorts of shoppers, even for "carriage" patrons with deep purses.
The larger of the Dorothies is in Oxford street and devotes its front shop to the sale of peaches piled high on beds of fern, fronds, apricots, grapes and bunches of goldenrod, asters and heather. Behind this are the parlors, where "gentlemen are admitted after 6 o'clock," where the decorations are Japanese on a warm red background, and where one may have one's choice of two or three descriptions of meat, nicely served by blooming girls in white muslin aprons, with vegetables, coffee and bread for eightpence, making a simple meal, but one that would be appreciated in any city where there is a large body of women who work for their bread, and who are repelled by the cheap restaurants, which give them badly cooked food, yet at prices higher than they can well afford to pay.
The serving of luncheon is a bold device for obtaining custom invented some time ago by London dressmakers and milliners. This season the women artists have adopted it. After a couple of hours of wearisome shopping your eye chances upon the welcome sign of "afternoon tea" in the window of a pretty looking studio. You go in and find perhaps a charming little picture gallery where a quaintly attired child, whom you at once set down for a model doing extra duty, is handing about delightfully old-fashioned glass plates with cake and bread and butter and cream, which you proceed to discuss, paying them for a trifle, and wishing, it must be confessed, that a little variety could be introduced into the biscuit and tea that Londoners appear to find so satisfying, while you look at the water colors and pastels, the painted photos and fire screens with which you are surrounded, your visit ending very probably in a purchase which it never would have occurred to you to make had not your eyes been allured to leisurely inspection during the progress of your meal. The English haven't a tithe of the French genius for making people comfortable, but in the interests of trade the women are advancing by rapid steps in that direction.
So far as range and variety of employments are concerned America is still in advance of England, but Englishwomen hold the outposts they have taken with wonderful vigor and determination. Only eighty-eight women have taken medical degrees in Great Britain as against the thousands in the United States, and women are only beginning to find their way into daily journalism; but I made, the other day, the acquaintance of a yellow-curled individual who looks as if she might be a young art student or musician, but who spends her days instead watching the rise and fall of stocks and shares in the London exchange. Miss Amy E. Bell has been in business as a stock broker for two years, and they tell me at the Pall Mall Gazette office that she is a very fairly successful one. Like so many of the women who are markedly successful in the practical walks of life, she is a university woman, though her studies at Newnham were cut short by the illness of a relative, to nurse whom she gave up the scholarship she had won.
Miss Bell is young and fair, with rounded features that show no traces of worry over the state of the market. Her office is a very comfortable sort of sanctum, with a good showing of paper litter and bulky volumes. A clerk of her own sex writes in the outer room, and in the inner one she told me she was born in Siam where her father and mother both died, leaving her to be sent home to England and brought up by an uncle, on whose death she came up to London alone, dependent on herself for her living and resolved to make trial of the one thing in which she had always felt an interest, stock broking.
Since the stock exchange excludes women from the little booths within its charmed portals, Miss Bell does most of her business through a well known firm which has shown her much kindness and courtesy. This firm has helped her from the beginning, an in no quarter, she says, has she found any prejudice or opposition. Her clients are mostly women, as might be expected, but she has some men among them. She does no speculative business, keeps rosy and enjoys better than one might suppose an occupation in which she hold the unique position of being, as far as her own sex is concerned, without competitors.
The Pall Mall Gazette takes more matter from women reporters and special writers than most of the London newspapers. A vivacious girl whom one runs across occasionally lunching with Mr. Stead in the restaurant on the Strand much frequented by newspaper people supplies fashion columns, but more serious work is done by Miss Bubla Friedrichs, who was, I believe, the first woman liberal journalist to a London newspaper, and who nevertheless, must have passed 20, if she has passed it at all, very recently. Miss Friedrichs is dark, slender, large-eyed, with irregular but very attractive features, shaded by wandering rings of curly hair. Though in some sense a pioneer of her sex in London in newspaperdom, she is not English by birth or education, but a German woman who spent a year or two in Russia and who has found her knowledge of the continental languages of the greatest practical value to her since she came to London and to the dingy offices in Northumberland-street -- English papers do not pride themselves on the buildings where I found her. She was the special correspondent for the Pall Mall Gazette at Berlin at the time of Bismarck's resignation, and when the debates on Heligoland began she was sent off to that small but much discussed island at an hour's notice to write up the situation. I noticed frequent and very respectful references to her articles in the arguments and leaders of both parties. Miss Friedrichs has been the London correspondent of the Cologne Gazette and has written much in her own language for German papers and magazines.
She tells me that the outlook for women in English newspaperdom is encouraging. Several women have entered the field as free lances, though few are regularly attached staff members. Her own apprenticeship was not an easy one, for she was not brought up more than other girls to understand colonial difficulties. Egyptian debts, Indian finances and such like uncanny subjects; but English pressmen have held out a brotherly hand to her, showing her the way over the steep places and sending her home to tend her tall hollyhock, her six pansy plants, her twelve geraniums and two fern roots in the garden of her bit of a cottage at Wimbledon with the feeling that life is worth living when confidence and friendliness breed confidence and friendliness in return. For the rest, her sanctum is just big enough for a table, two chairs and a picture, and from it goes out work that will do much to open more widely the door of her profession to women.
The amount of charitable work done wisely and most unwifely by women in a country where one person in every thirty-five of the population is a pauper is astounding. The Englishwoman's Year Book, which is mainly a directory to institutions for the benefit of women, usually managed by women, is a bulky volume. East London and South London are fairly honeycombed by workers zealously trying according to their lights, which sometimes are only flickering rush lights, to ameliorate the condition of the people. The amount of prying into their affairs which the London poor will stand, and the meekness with which they will be questioned and talked to, even by the merely curious, out for an afternoon's "slumming," surprises an American.
"Ten years ago," said a lady in conversation, "they would have thrown stones. Some of the clergymen who went among them first found ropes stretched across the street to trip them up and fell victims to such other playful eccentricities."
One wonders at the absence at the present day of such reminders of the advisability of minding one's own business, when one sees how misery is turned into a tourist's spectacle, but the milder manners of Mile End road, Whitechapel, etc., probably testify to the efficacy of the work which the British matron is carrying out in her own way. Mrs. Humphrey Ward's Robert Elsmere settlement is not doing much as yet; it is not fairly under way. Something substantial may come of the novelist's plan or may not; the point is one on which opinion seems to be divided.
The most interesting work of which I have seen anything is that of Miss Cons, who last year received a large number of votes for the office of alderman, who does much of the executive work of a college for working men and women and a concert hall for good low-priced entertainments at the Royal Victoria hall, on the Waterloo road, and the Women's university settlements, of which there are two in the poorest quarters of London, patterned like the settlement of the college women in Rivington street, New York, somewhat upon Toynbee Hall, the original settlement of university men.
The settlement at which I spent yesterday morning in Nelson square, Southwark, S.W., is the joint care of college women from Oxford and Cambridge; Girton, Newnham, Lady Margaret hall and Somerville hall being represented among the residents. The house is rather a quaint old graystone building in a little square planted with trees, a green oasis in an arid desert of dirt and grinding poverty. The streets about it are narrow alleyways running with filth and the tenements so crowded and so destitute of the most ordinary sanitary provisions that only the kindly summer climate of London preserves the inhabitants from the frightful mortality which in the heat of an American July or August would infallibly ensue. The walls of the pretty parlors are lined with books belonging to the settlement's library, and upstairs in the simply furnished morning rooms I found three or four tall, blonde, brown haired rosy young Englishwomen in residence for the summer season. Miss Edith M. Argles, who was, I believe, a Newnham student, is the lady warden, and she told a very kindly something of their work and prospects. Four or five women are always in residence, others come in to help on Saturdays or on special evenings. Everything that is done is in the way of neighborly friendliness, enticing the children to a playroom opened for their benefit, taking parties of them to the museums or to the parks for cricket and active games, sending children into the country in fresh air parties, organizing clubs for winter evenings where boys and girls draw and learn wood carving and girls sew and learn dressmaking, starting classes in history, in singing and in dancing, arranging lectures, picture exhibitions and this summer a flower show. The children of the neighborhood were allowed to buy potted plants in the spring at the lowest rates at which they could be procured, and these plants tended throughout the summer are shortly to be exhibited in competition for prizes at the show. How much good the settlement may be doing in Southwark nobody even in Southwark or the settlement could know, but the spirit which animates it, of simple good will, is refreshing after experiences of the average "charity."

ELIZA PUTNAM HEATON.

Source: The Galveston Daily News, Sunday August 31, 1890, Page 9

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sat 5 May 2012 - 20:25

September 1, 1890

AN ECCENTRIC CLUB.
QUEER CUSTOMS OF THE TENDERLOINERS OF NEW YORK.

How Some of the Good Fellows in the Metropolis Enjoy Themselves One Night in Each Week - The Old "Eel Pot" Rookery the Scene of Their Fun Making.

The Tenderloin club shares with the Whitechapel club, of Chicago, the peculiar distinction of being entirely peculiar. Its home is the antiquated wooden building that once stood somewhere between Twenty-eighth and Twenty-ninth streets, near Seventh avenue, but was moved up to the street line, directly opposite the Tenderloin precinct station house on Thirtieth street, when Thirtieth street was laid out by the municipal street commissioners.
It is a notable rookery. Years ago it was called "The Eel Pot," and was the resort of men whose doings often brought them into conflict with the police. In this building Inspector Williams ran against a celebrated ghost mystery, and ran the ghost down. It is owned by State Senator Murtha, and his agent insists that it is over 140 years old. It is just about a year now since the Tenderloin club took possession of it, and made it a typical haunt of men who are in love with the odd and picturesque things of life that make the cream of Bohemian existence.

"LEAVE CARE BEHIND."

Senator Murtha would not recognize the old rookery now in the transformation wrought by the eccentric fancy of its members. Once under the archway that bears the club motto, "Who enters here leaves care behind," the visitor meets a series of surprises. Six thousand playing cards, for example constitute the novel papering of the walls of one of the rooms. These cards represent the astounding possibilities of the game of draw poker, and duplicate actual hands. The ceiling is frescoed with poker chips in unusual design. This decoration is only an unusual fancy of the treasurer of the club, who used up over 12,000 tacks in the decoration. Gambling is not a pastime of the Bohemians of the Tenderloin. Whisky poker and whist are their pet recreations with the cards.
The next room is papered with photographs. These reproduce joyous scenes and jolly personages of the club. It is one of the customs of the club to preserve souvenirs of its jollier experiences. The most interesting of these souvenirs are scenes by the flashlight camera. A camera is always set up in the rooms, and whenever a particularly good story is told, or anything thoroughly enjoyable occurs, a magnesium light is fired, and the effect of the joke or of the experience is captured in a photograph of the members. About every style of laugh known has been produced in this galaxy of Tenderloin faces.
Another room is devoted to the exhibition of curiosities that the members have collected. There are knives, pistols, opium pipes, cartridges, bits of bread, wax candles and other flotsam and jetsam that tell some sort of a story or recall some queer happening. A piece of switchboard picked out of the ruins of the Western Union building fire is the last addition to the singular miscellany. Still another room is decorated with stone mugs and pipes of all sorts. In this room, before the great open fireplace, the members meet every Saturday night and make the air blue with smoke.
These gatherings begin at midnight exactly. Midnight, in fact, is the hour for beginning everything in the Tenderloin. Actors drop in and entertain the smokers after midnight. They get up something new constantly. Composer Stahl sauntered in one night, took out the front of the upright piano and picked a harp accompaniment on the wires with his right hand, while he played a new composition with his left. Every cork drawn is saved as a souvenir. The center is drilled out and a pipe system is fitted into it, and it becomes a perpetual reminder. This custom is copied from a German fancy.

SOME OF THE FUN.

Deviled crabs are a social dish at the Tenderloin. So is the sandwich of ham and chicken and Boston brown bread that was invented by the chef of the Union club. Plugged watermelon is another great specialty with the Tenderloin. It is soothing, seductive and mysterious. Nobody knows what he is going to strike. The melons are plugged with claret, champagne, brandy and crushed strawberries, and then mixed up so that it is impossible to discover what they are without eating of them. It is a new kind of pot luck that meets with favor and is provocative of great sport.
There is always a friendly rivalry among members to think up new methods of enjoyment.
The purpose of the founders of the Tenderloin was to open to men of all professions the charms of Bohemian good fellowship that make the Fellowcraft club and the Press club enjoyable retreats. Both the Fellowcraft and Press clubs have a restricted membership that shuts out effectually from its enjoyment of the delightful society found within their walls many men who long for such romantic surroundings. Both Fellowcraft and Press club members are in the Tenderloin, whose membership door is opened in hospitable welcome, its officers say, to all men who can lay just claim to the title of good fellows in the worthier sense of that much abused title. The Tenderloin lays down a single comprehensive rule in choosing its members. It is this, as President Keller bluntly puts it, "The first requisite of a Tenderloiner is that he shall not be stuck on himself." There are 200 members of the club. Under this rule they ought to be very companionable persons indeed. - New York Sun.

Source: Woodland Daily Democrat, Monday Evening, September 1, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 6 May 2012 - 0:23

September 3, 1890

THE RIPPER LEGISLATURE.

On Monday at noon this ripper legislature will be dead. It will go down to history as the most unsatisfactory official body that ever met in this old State house. It has done a few good things, but the majority of its acts are either indifferent or very bad. It has omitted to do many things that would have rebounded to its credit, and insisted upon doing others that would damn it for all time to come. M.L. HAWKINS,
Gov. Campbell's Adjutant-General.

Source: Sandusky Daily Register, Wednesday September 3, 1890

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Karen on Sun 6 May 2012 - 0:35

September 7, 1890

A GERMAN ADVOCATE'S ADVENTURE IN WHITECHAPEL.

Thomas Cooper, 29, a horsekeeper, of 43, Mansford-street, Bethnal-green; and Alice Hollis, 25, who was described as a servant, living at the same address, were charged with being concerned together in demanding and obtaining 20s. by threats and menaces from Dr. Isadore Joseph, an advocate, of Hamburg, staying at the Great Eastern Railway hotel.
Prosecutor, who spoke very imperfect English, said that on Sunday evening he and two friends went to a house. Hollis demanded 20s. of him, and she also prevented him going downstairs. She called up a woman, and Cooper also came up with the big stick (produced), and said they would have the 20s. The woman threatened him with the stick, and being in fear he paid the sovereign to the woman.
Theodore Juliusberger, a German merchant, of Hamburg, staying with Dr. Joseph, corroborated the story.
Constable Harding, 66 H, said he heard shouts proceeding from the Crown coffee-house, Whitechapel-road, and on going there saw the last witness. He saw prosecutor come downstairs, and Hollis followed with a stick in her hand. Prosecutor, in the prisoners' presence, stated his case, and the prisoners made no reply. When witness arrested Hollis, she handed Dr. Joseph a sovereign, saying, "Here's your sovereign." Cooper left the room, but witness afterwards found him concealed in the kitchen. At the station Hollis said to Cooper, "Keep everything quiet. We won't know nothing." Having heard further evidence Mr. Dickinson discharged the accused.

Source: Lloyd's Weekly London Newspaper, September 7, 1890, Page 4

***************************************
Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
avatar
Karen
Admin

Posts : 4907

View user profile http://victorianripper.niceboard.org

Back to top Go down

Re: Missing Articles of 1890

Post by Sponsored content


Sponsored content


Back to top Go down

Page 3 of 3 Previous  1, 2, 3

View previous topic View next topic Back to top

- Similar topics

 
Permissions in this forum:
You cannot reply to topics in this forum