I own just a few early photographs of African-Americans, for they are scarce and much sought after. I present them with love.
I own just a few early photographs of African-Americans, for they are scarce and much sought after. I present them with love.
Whenever the modern world seems unprincipled and bleak, take comfort. It ran amok in the old days, too, as these Victorian news clippings attest.
“Looks Like Attempted Revenge”
“Hazelton, Pa., Dec. 4.—An attempt was made last night to blow up the residence of A. P. Platt, one of Sheriff Martin’s deputies. This morning, two sticks of dynamite, one of which was broken, were found on the steps of Mr. Platt’s residence. The explosive was carried to police headquarters and it was found that the piece which had been broken must have been thrown against the porch by someone. Had the dynamite exploded, the house would have been wrecked and Mr. Platt and family probably killed. There is no clue to the guilty parties.
“Mr. Platt is the manager of the A. Pardee & Company store in Hazelton, and is a prominent Hazletonian. He has offered a reward of $100 for the apprehension of the parties who placed the dynamite on the doorstep.”
“A Narrow Escape”
“Chicago, Oct. 2.—A number of very narrow escapes from death by fire occurred at No. 90 East Chicago avenue early this morning. The building is a two-story frame owned by John Johnson and occupied in the basement by Miss Julia Hogan as a restaurant; first floor as a saloon kept by Roose & Steuberg, and the second floor by John Johnson and family. Officer Moore saw the flames leaping from of the rear of the building, turned in the alarm and then ran to the scene to arouse the inmates. He rushed to Johnson’s rooms and seized two of the children, who were in a back room, and were nearly suffocated. In coming downstairs, he fell and injured his left hand and arm, but the children were not injured. Mrs. Johnson caught up the baby and escaped in her night dress, followed by her sister and husband. In Miss Hogan’s restaurant, in the basement, were sleeping Julia Hogan and Mary Esperson, Helen Larsel and Louise Norin. The last named, the cook, was aroused by the heat and smoke, which came from the kitchen. She called the proprietress, and they tried to gather some valuables, but the flames spread so rapidly that a retreat was necessary. Miss Hogan was compelled to run through the flames, and her arms were severely burned in attempting to save a dress, in the pocket of which was $56. The damage to the building was slight.”
“Body Snatching in Richmond”
“Richmond, Va., Oct. 30—Chris. Baker and Wm. Burnett, colored men and professional resurrectionists, were arrested this morning while moving the body [of] a dead pauper through the streets on a wheelbarrow. The body had been stolen from the morgue at the city alm-house. David Parker, the keeper of the morgue, was arrested on a charge of complicity, but has been bailed. Barker and Burnett were sent to jail.”
“A Tale of Bigamy, Murder, Lynch Law, and Female Devotion”
“A man calling himself Captain Hutton settled a year ago in Sarcoxie, Missouri, courted and married a Miss Fullerton, daughter of a respectable widow lady of that village. He had with him a sickly looking boy called Tommy, for whom he manifested great attachment. They lived in the village—Hutton, his young wife, and Tommy, until about a month ago, when at the request of Hutton, Mrs. Fullerton and Tommy started on a trip to Ohio with him on business.
“Arriving at Sedalia, Hutton procured a power of attorney, with which he returned alone to Sarcoxie, and by virtue of the writing took possession of Mrs. Fullerton’s property, and commenced to selling the same. Suspicion was excited. His answers to questions about Mrs. Fullerton’s whereabouts were unsatisfactory. He was arrested after an exciting chase, and through letters found on his person, attention was directed to a certain house in St. Louis. There the officers found Tommy in the person of a young woman, who confessed that she was Hutton’s wife and that she had consented to his fraudulent marriage of Miss Furguson [sic]. She had been drugged during the journey, and Miss Ferguson [sic] had disappeared, and, she had no doubt was murdered.
“In compliance with Hutton’s demand, she had personated [sic] Mrs. F. at Sedalia, in signing a false power of attorney, under which he returned and took possession of her property. He had then sent her to St. Louis where she was employed as a maid of all work in the house where she was arrested. A mob took Hutton from jail and hung him. He has passed by different names—‘Dan Springer,’ ‘Joseph Lee,’ ‘A. G. Hutton,’ and many others. The frail woman whose devotion to him led her to the committal of such revolting crimes is in jail in at Carthage. She says her maiden name was Mary Williams. She was born in Scioto County, Ohio; went to Oxford to school; became infatuated with [Hutton], ran away with him, and they were married in Ironton, in 1866. Afterward she went with him to Kansas, often dressing in male attire at his request, and in that garb was present when he married Miss Fullerton.”
“Judge Thayer Again Sick”
“Warren, O., Sept. 23—The Webster murder trial is again fated with ill-luck. Judge Thayer, at the close of court Tuesday was taken with another fainting fit, and afterwards announced he would be unable to go farther with the case. Judge Nichols, of Columbiana, was telegraphed for, but he has announced his inability to come. The future course which will be pursed is not at this time known. The suspense and outlook is most discouraging to those interested.”
[Judge Thayer was eventually replaced by Court of Common Pleas Judge William Day of Canton, Ohio, in the trial of Lewis Webster, who was accused of killing elderly farmer Perry Harrington. This was Webster’s second retrial on the murder charge; he had been found guilty and sentenced to hang in both previous trials. According to Mrs. Harrington, Webster, wearing a mask, had burst into the couple’s farmhouse, demanded money, and then shot her in the side and arm when, after his mask slipped, she cried out that she knew who he was. Mrs. Harrington ran out of the house to a neighbor’s and upon return, found her husband dead, a bullet hole in his forehead. Astonishingly, Webster was acquitted at the third trial and went on to marry his then-fiancée and live in the town where his claims of innocence where finally vindicated.]
“A Fatal Result”
“A fatal result from a common practice of school children is noticed in the papers. A little girl was going down the stairs some days ago, at a public school in New York, when she and some of her companions, taking hold of the banisters, proceeded to slide down. She struck her spine upon the point of a stick used to reach down bonnets and cloaks from the hooks. She was taken home, and died after lingering two days in intense agony.”
“John Snyder Ends His Life in Bantley & Fronheiser’s Store.”
“He Lost His Wife and Children in the Flood and Became Temporarily Insane—Four Shots Fired, Only One of Which Takes Effect.”
“John Snyder, aged about thirty-five years, son of Joseph Snyder, Sr., of Conemaug [sic] borough, suicided at noon Saturday, in the hardware store of Bantley & Fronheiser on Clifton Street. He went into the store and purchased a 38-caliber revolver from one of the clerks, who loaded it for him. There were quite a number of people in the store at the time, and after a short conversation with Mr. Ed. Fronheiser and Mr. J. L. Foust, the clerk who sold him the revolver, he turned as if to leave the store, and no further attention was paid to him. In a moment after he left the counter a shot was heard, and everyone turning around saw Snyder with the smoking revolver in his hand. He instantly fired three more shots, the last one taking effect in the right temple.
“The people gathered around the prostrate form but life was already extinct.
“Mr. Snyder lost his wife and four children in the flood [This refers to the Johnstown Flood, 31 May 1889, in which the insufficiently built South Fork Dam collapsed after days of heavy rainfaill, sending a literal tidalwave down the valley into the town, killing an estimated 2,209 people.], and did not recover from the excitement sustained by his great loss.
“He obtained work after the flood at Moxham, and attended to his duties for several weeks, but ultimately left and went to Ohio. He returned about a week ago, but still mourned for his wife and children. No cause is assigned for the rash act, other than temporary insanity.
“The body was removed to the home of his parents in Conemaugh borough, and Coronor Evans was notified. The coroner, however, decided an inquest unnecessary, as the case was one of plain suicide.
“The funeral took place yesterday afternoon at 2 o’clock from the Old American House at Conemaugh, where his parents live, and was private.
“The deceased was a wire drawer by trade, and worked in the Gautier works. He was a member of the Conemaugh borough Fire Company. He was much Esteemed by all who knew him, and great regret is expressed that he should so suddenly end his life.”
“Contraband Given Wages ”
“General Wool [John Ellis Wool (20 Feb., 1784-10 Nov., 1869)] has issued an order giving the ‘contraband’ employed in Fortress Monroe wages at the rate of $8 per month for the men, and $4 per month for the females.”
[The term “contraband” was applied to escaped African-American slaves who, after fleeing their owners, affiliated themselves with the Union Army. In this same year, the Contraband Act of 1861 stated that any Confederate military property, including slaves, would be confiscated. The 1862 Act Prohibiting the Return of Slaves made sure that no escapee who made it to contraband camps would ever be returned to their masters.] Ω
As the Northern Hemisphere explodes with green life, let’s take a look back at rebirth celebrations of yesteryear.
In about 1849, a mother and child were photographed in a New York town where visionaries struggled to change the world.
A long inscription is penciled inside the case of this daguerreotype: “The picture of Flora and her mother, taken when she was three years old at McGrawville, Cortland Co., NY.
“I’ll think of thee at eventide/ When shines the star of love/ When Earth is garnished like a bride/ and all is joy a-bove/ and when the moon’s pale genial face/ is shed or [sic] land & sea/ and throughs [sic] around her soft light/ t’is then I think of thee. EM
“Flora & I are in the parlor as I write this, talking of the war, etc. etc. Henry …?… is buried Thursday Oct. 30th, ’62.”
The sentimental verse is likely based on “Better Moments,” by poet Nathaniel Parker Willis (1806-1867), printed in 7 July, 1827’s New-York Mirror and Ladies Literary Gazette, Volume IV, as well as and in the New Mirror’s Poems of Passion in 1843. Willis’s poem includes the lines: “I have been out at eventide/ Beneath a moonlit sky of spring/ When Earth was garnished like a bride/ And night had on her silver wing.” It is uncertain whether variants of Willis’s poem existed that included the stanza scriven in the case, or whether the writer “borrowed” a few lines of it for his or her own poetic creation.
McGrawville, Cortland County, New York, was once home to New York Central College, an institution of higher learning founded by the antislavery American Baptist Free Mission Society in 1848 and which held its first classes in 1849—a date congruent with the fashions worn by Flora and her mother.
The college “opened its doors to any student able to pay the modest tuition regardless of sex, race, or religion. Blacks constituted an estimated half of its enrollment,” explained historian Catherine M. Hanchett. “Some came from New England, from Virginia, from Canada West [Ontario]. Some where fugitive slaves, others newly freed. Several were members of prominent black families.”
The college employed at least three Black professors—Charles Reason (1818-1893), George Boyer Vashon (1824-1853), and William G. Allen (1820-aft. 1878), the latter of whom was at least two-thirds white, but who would cause scandal by asking for the hand of a Caucasian student, Miss Mary King.
Fittingly, the college also served as a stop along the Underground Railroad that assisted escaped slaves heading to Canada.
A smallpox epidemic in 1850 led to the deaths of some of the college’s African-American students—all were buried on the campus beneath tombstones extant today. Illness at the school seemed persistent, as student William Austin wrote to his family on 23 May, 1852, “There has been and is at present a considerable sickness among students but Mumps and Measles are to blame but I think they will not injure me.”
Otherwise, Austin found the nearby villages and the college bucolic. “This is a beautiful section of country, somewhat uneven, but just enough to awaken mankind to the romantic beauties of nature,” he wrote. “The boarding hall is some thirty rods [165 yards] from the college so that we have a pleasant walk to get there to meals which are at 6 1/2 o’clock in the morning, at noon, and at 5 P.M. The Ladies all room at the hall. The Gentlemen at the College.”
Throughout its existence, New York Central College faced constant racist and misogynist criticism from both southern and northern states. It was “an institution confessedly established for the purpose, figuratively speaking, of whitening the blacks and blackening the whites,” pronounced the Buffalo Courier of 4 July, 1851, during a state funding appropriation battle. “It is said that one of the professors, an accomplished and skilled teacher, has crispy hair and a southern skin,” the Orleans Republican of Albion, New York, snickered on 9 July. The article continued with a quote from a Mr. A. A. Thompson, who was of the opinion that “‘Rather than give $4,000 [in state money] to that vile sink of pollution … they ought to give it to a mob that would raise [sic] it to the ground.’” Later in July, the Albany Argus called the college, “an institution repulsive in its objects and character.”
However, one female graduate had another opinion of the school that recognized her innate equality. Angeline Stickney wrote of her alma mater, “I feel very much attached to that institution, not withstanding all its faults, and I long to see it again, for its foundation rests upon the basis of Eternal Truth—and my heartstrings are twined around its every pillar.”
The inscription states that Flora was three when the daguerreotype was taken in McGrawville, which, when fashions are considered in tandem, makes the approximate year of her birth between 1848 and 1850. On 30 October, 1862, the writer was in the parlor with Flora, then in her teens, speaking about the ongoing Civil War. The indecipherable surname of Henry, who was buried that day, might lead to a breakthrough, but thus far no guesses of mine have yielded results.
How was Flora’s family connected to McGrawville? Was she the child of a teacher, an administrator, abolitionist Baptists, or simply part of a local Cortland family? Where did Flora and her people go after leaving McGrawville? Why did the burial of Henry raise memories of the more than decade-old daguerreotype, and what motivated the writer to pencil the poem and message in the case at that time? These questions remain stubbornly unanswered. Ω
“Mothers, I believe, intoxicate us. We idolize them and take them for granted. We hate them and blame them and exalt them more thoroughly than anyone else in our lives. We sift through the evidence of their love, reassure ourselves of their affection and its biological genesis. We can steal and lie and leave and they will love us.”—Megan Mayhew Bergman
I wish all mothers a happy day of love and peace. For all you have done and will do, you are saluted.