From Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper of July 26, 1856 we learn of a fantastic little swindle. It seems that the residents at 73 Hicks Street, Brooklyn rented the house from Mr. John Taylor. Around noon, a man drove up in an express wagon, told the residents that Mr. Taylor had sent him over pick up the window blinds, so that they could be repainted. Much pleased with the generosity of their landlord, the tenants helped load up the wagon with every set of blinds in the house. Neither the blinds nor the wagon driver were seen again.
All posts in category Fun Historical Tidbits
Posted by rogersachar on April 17, 2012
From the Syracuse Standard of May, 1856 we get the story of Albert Guelph, formerly of England. Aged 30, Guelph rented a room from a local Syracuse family named Lewis. When Guelph arrived at the Lewis’ house, he was attired in a dress, but a few days after renting the room changed clothes into blue coat, blue shirt, dark vest and buff colored pantaloons. According to the Standard, the “probability is that the family supposed…the’ dress was a disguise, and that [Guelph] was resuming the proper habiliments of her sex.”
Guelph and the Lewis daughter fell in love, engaged in a brief courtship, and were married in the town’s Episcopal Church by the family minister, Rev. Mr. Gregor. It was not until after the marriage that the bride’s father began to suspect that his new son-in-law was really a daughter-in-law; the dress having not quite have done the trick. Mr. Lewis, pere, complained to the police and Guelph was arrested, upon what charge it is not known. As the Standard tells us, “the bride still clings to her woman husband, and claims that the arrest is a conspiracy against them. They were allowed to meet in one of the ante-rooms of the police office, and embraced each other with the greatest marks of affection.
One wonders what happened to couple.
Posted by rogersachar on April 16, 2012
New Yorkers had a troublesome habit of rioting every so often. They rioted over the price of flour in 1837, over upper class snobbery in 1849, and the draft in 1863. Just to keep in practice, the police rioted amongst themselves in 1857, in the great New York City Police Riot. All these riots made the U.S. Government a bit nervous; after all, there were all sorts of money stored in the New York Sub-Treasury building at 26 Wall Street. So what did Uncle Sam do? He put turrets on the roof, threw a couple of Gatling Guns inside. To make doubly sure no pesky rioters got close to all that gold, iron shutters were installed, complete with loop holes, through which loyal troops could pick off the masses.
By the way, the Subtreasury building is still there. It is now Federal Hall, with the big statue of Washington out front. Next time you’re there, ask ‘em to let you have a try with the Gatling Guns.
Images from Frank Leslie’s Illustrated Newspaper, April 08, 1881
Posted by rogersachar on April 15, 2012
[SOLVED by Allison Meier] A Greenwood Cemetery Hunt – Garrison’s Monument, Ocean Avenue, Greenwood Cemetery
Who was Garrison? Why did he want he want his grave to be in the form of what looks to be a mosque, couple with a Russian onion dome? Anybody got a modern picture?
Here’s what Frank Leslie’s of August 17, 1867, tells us: “Our attention was presently attracted by one of the most curious mausoleums. It is Oriental in style, and very ugly. Ere we moved on a carriage drove up, and from the conversation of its charming occupants we learned that this mosque in miniature cost fifty thousand dollars, and that the gentleman whose bones are destined to repose in it resides at present in Fifth avenue.”
***UPDATE*** Allison Meier (@allezallie) solved this one 10 minutes after I put it up on twitter. Thanks Allison.
Here’s the scoop. Commodore C.K. Garrison was a steamboat mogul, and a former mayor of San Francisco. He didn’t die until May of 1885, so this tomb sat empty for years before he found a use for it. I guess it was better to be prepared. Anyway, our good friend C.K. (the initials stand for Cornelius Kingsland) is from upstate New York. He left home at age 13, studies architecture and engineering, then finds himself in St. Louis, where he builds, owns and operates steamboats on the Mississippi, and makes a fortune. By the 1850′s he’s in Panama, where he works for a trans-Nicaraguan shipping company (there being no Canal route) along with his partner Charles Morgan, called the Accessory Transit Company. Cornelius Vanderbilt was the main backer of the venture, which had an exclusive franchise from the Nicaraguan government. When Commodore Vanderbilt goes off to Europe on vacation, Garrison, Morgan, and William Walker, a famous filibuster, decide it may be fun and profitable to take over Nicaragua.
They succeeded, at least initially, and after Walker takes over the government of Nicaragua, he revokes the charter of the Accessory Transit Company, and gives it the charter to Morgan and Garrison. Vanderbilt was not pleased, and wrote Morgan and Garrison, “Gentlemen: You have undertaken to cheat me. I won’t sue you, for the law is too slow. I’ll ruin you. Yours truly, Cornelius Vanderbilt.” Vanderbilt hires two mercenaries to raise a Costa Rican army, and all sorts of other fun things, eventually driving Walker from the government of Nicaragua.
Our hero finds himself in San Francisco, where he serves as Mayor, donating his salary to an orphanage. By the time of the Civil War, Garrison is back in New York City, where he lets the government use his boats. He also becomes the President of the Missouri Pacific Railroad, before selling his interest in the line to Jay Gould at an exorbitant amount.
Oh, and the tomb is “Moorish Revival”.
Now that you’ve read through quite a bit of history (or even if you haven’t) here’s a modern picture of the tomb provided by the inestimable Allison:
Posted by rogersachar on March 14, 2012