Via Newspapers.comThis tale of a haunted British pub (there are a remarkable number of them) appeared in the “Regina Leader-Post,” July 26, 1930:GLOSSOP--A ghost that rings a bell on the tap-room table and hammers on the tap-room door, and other strange happenings, are mystifying the landlord of the Bull's Head, a 800-year-old public horse near Charlesworth. Mr. S. Onslow, the landlord, said that
Soapy Smith in Leadville, ColoradoJuly 21, 1880Soapy and partner, rear, between carriagesCourtesy Kyle Rosene collection(Click image to enlarge)
Soapy Smith's stereo-view photographLeadville, Colorado, July 21, 1880Where was it taken?WHERE IN LEADVILLE WAS THIS TAKEN?(Click image to enlarge) Those who have read Alias Soapy Smith: The Life and Death of a Scoundrel may recall seeing the
On a busy day in 1951, a hot dog vendor found himself captive to a hawker of cheap jewelry who set up shop across from his rickety food cart decorated with American flags. Horses still worked the side streets of the city. Stray dogs waited for food scraps to fall to the pavement. TV antennas […]
An article I recently wrote for the British online magazine, New Politic, is now available online. The article, “The Criminal Origins of the United States of America,†is about British convict transportation to America, which took place between the years 1718 and 1775, and is the subject of my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: […]
James L. Daniels returned to Hillman, Alabama, from a trip to Birmingham, the night of December 26, 1890. While he was there, he purchased a hideous mask and thought it would be a good joke to put on the mask and frighten the family of his brother-in-law, Joe Tarpley. He knocked on their door and Tarpley answered. Not knowing it was Daniels, Tarpley told the masked man to go away. Instead,
On October 16, 1900, the Fall River Daily Herald reported an incident at Maplecroft. Lizzie took a tumble from a step ladder while adjusting a picture on the wall. Dr. Stephen Masury Gordon set the broken wrist. Dr. Gordon lived at 165 Rock St. and was a Harvard graduate. One has to wonder why Lizzie did not have one of the servants or her handy man doing the chore. Dr. Gordon
Youth With Executioner by Nuremberg native Albrecht Dürer … although it’s dated to 1493, which was during a period of several years when Dürer worked abroad. November 13 [1617]. Burnt alive here a miller of Manberna, who however was lately engaged as a carrier of wine, because he and his brother, with the help of […]
At Eureka, Nevada, about three weeks ago, the monotony of life in one of the faro-banks of the town was relieved about midnight by the advent of a woman, closely veiled, accompanied by an escort. Her presence of course excited considerable curiosity, and the game—faro—was temporarily interrupted, the players and dealers taking more than ordinary interest in the newcomer. They recovered their composure, however, on failing to penetrate her veil, and continued their game, keeping a good watch, though, lest she might draw some instrument from under the ample folds of her dress and castigate or scatter the crowd from their wrestle with the tiger.
A number thought she was an outraged wife in search of her husband, whose absence she had mourned and whom she wanted to catch at the green table. All conjectures were, however, soon dispelled. The case-keeper had risen from his seat and turned in his checks, when the fair incognito deliberately planted herself in his chair, opened the case-keeper, piled up several twenty-dollar rolls of silver alongside of it, and appeared ready for business. All eyes were turned upon her, and Purdy's nimble fingers trembled perceptibly. A slight paleness was noticeable in the dealer's face, but like the hoy who stood upon the burning deck, he was bound to stand it, win or lose. Luck favored the fair stranger, and from white cheeks she turned to red, and the red resolved themselves into blue ($25 each). She kept the cases carefully and played with all the pluck of an old hand at the business. She won and lost, but kept gathering in the blue checks. Finally, when she was a couple of hundred ahead, she handed them to the dealer and received her eagles in exchange, and, with her escort, left the room and disappeared from view. The eyes of the boys stuck out like bung-holes on a molasses barrel, aid they looked at each other in perfect bewilderment. They were mystified by the fair stranger beyond conception, and it was some time before the game was resumed. Who she was no one knew, but they would give something to find out.
"We follow vice and folly where a police officer dare not show his head, as the small, but intrepid weasel pursues vermin in paths which the licensed cat or dog cannot enter."
The Sunday Flash 1841