Some Queer Wills — "I Bequeath Eternal Damnation"

Some Queer Wills

1889

Extraordinary Documents Copied from South Carolina Court Records

In overhauling some of the old books in the records of the probate court, Judge Gleason has, according to the Charleston News and Courier, come across some queer documents. Here are some of them:

A man, who has been dead so long that he shall be nameless, was hanged in Charleston for murder. He protested his innocence to the last, and the day before his execution made a will leaving his personal property, valued at $439 in money, and a silver watch and chain to his relative. The last clause of the will is as follows:

"As I am to be hung to-morrow for the murder of ——, of which crime I am innocent, and firmly believing that I was found guilty by a packed jury, I bequeath to this jury eternal damnation, and in order that their names may be known to posterity I herein insert their names,——, foreman, and eleven others. I order and direct that my executor hereinafter named shall deliver my body to the medical students of Charleston, S. C., and they are requested to have my bones properly cleaned, my skeleton properly mounted, so that it will pass down as a proof of the bribery and corruption used in the conviction of an innocent man."

Another man, long since deceased, and who was evidently a wealthy Frenchman, after disposing of his estate, provides for an erring daughter as follows:

"It is to me a great cause of mortification and regret to mention the name of Clotilde, my daughter, now twenty-three years old. To protect this instrument I bequeath to her one barleycorn. I pray she will repent and prepare for the Lord's forgiveness."

Another man, who was a widower, and had an only daughter who seems to have been the cause of much trouble to her father, disposes of his estate and gives to his daughter "My blood horse, Jim, feeling satisfied that if she will either ride or drive him it is likely she will be brought home a corpse, in which satisfactory event then let the horse be sold and the proceeds given to the poor."

The Haunted Maintop – Fright Aboard An English Ship

1889

How a Talkative Parrot Frightened the Tars of An English Ship

Talking about ghosts, writes a correspondent of the Sheffield (Eng.) Telegraph, our chief mate once told me that on board a ship in which he once served the mate on duty ordered some of the youths to reef the maintop sail. When the first got up he heard a strange voice saying: "It blows hard!" The lad waited for no more; he was down in a trice and told his adventure. A second immediately ascended, laughing at the folly of his companion, but returned even more quickly, declaring he was quite sure that a voice not of this world had cried in his ear: "It blows hard!" Another went, and another, but each came back with the same tale.

At length the mate having sent up the whole watch, ran up the shrouds himself, and when he reached the haunted spot heard the dreadful words distinctly uttered in his ear:

"It blows hard!"

"Aye, aye. old one; but blow it ever so hard, we must ease the ear-rings for all that," replied the mate, undauntedly, and, looking round, he saw a line parrot perched on one of the clews — the thoughtless author of the false alarms — which had probably escaped from some other vessel to take refuge on this.

Another of our officers mentioned that on one of his voyages he remembered a boy having been sent to clear a rope which had got foul above the mizzentop. Presently, however, he came back trembling, and almost tumbling to the bottom, declaring that he had seen "Old Davy" aft the cross-trees. Moreover, that the evil one had a huge head and face, with prick-ears and eyes as bright as fire. Two or three others were sent up in succession, to all of whom the apparition glared forth, and was identified by each to be "Old Davy," sure enough.

The mate, in a rage, at length mounted himself, when resolutely, as in the former case, searching for the bugbear, he soon ascertained the innocent cause of so much terror to be a large horned owl, so lodged as to be out of sight to those who ascended on the other side of the vessel, but which, when any one approached the cross-trees, popped up his portentous visage to see what was coming. The mate brought him down in triumph, and "Old Davy," the owl, became a very peaceful shipmate among the crew, who were no longer scared by his horns and eyes, for sailors turn their back on nothing when they know what it is.

Had the birds in these two instances departed as they came, of course they would have been deemed supernatural visitants to the respective ships by all who had heard the one and seen the other.

The Prison Blood Hounds – Prowling, Howling, Dreadful

New Jersey, 1889

The Prison Blood Hounds

How They Prowl Around at Night, Undisturbed by Visitors

Acting as assistants to the night watchman at the State's Prison are three huge blood hounds, who nightly are turned loose in the prison yard. The vicious glare of their eyes and gleam of their teeth have created a reign of terror among the prisoners, and doubtless the presence of three canine watchmen has prevented any plotting among the prisoners. For the thought that, although they may elude the ever-vigilant wall guards, yet these faithful retainers of the prison-keeper aided by their keen scent and possessed of such vicious dispositions may at any moment pounce upon the would-be jail-breaker is certainly enough to deter even the boldest from attempting escape. But not only the prisoners are forbidden in the yard after dark by the presence of these animals, but the officials of the prison are also under the ban, and can only enter the prison yard at the risk of being torn to pieces. One of these canines, Sultain by name, died recently but the other two still do effective duty.

They have acquired the habit of howling, and often disturb the stillness of the night with their bloodcurdling yelps, striking terror to the hearts of the lonely prisoners in their cells, whose ears are pierced by their unearthly growling.

With these dogs acting as guards, none of the prisoners are willing to undergo the risk incurred in taking French leave.

–Trenton Times, Trenton, NJ, July 1, 1889, p. 3.

New Stanza Written for "My Country 'Tis of Thee"

1889

An Additional Stanza Added to the Hymn By the Author.

CHICAGO, April 29. — The Daily News to-morrow will publish for the first time, an additional stanza to the hymn "My Country 'Tis of Thee." The author of the hymn, Rev. S. F. Smith, has written the new stanza for the Daily News in honor of the national anniversary celebrated to-morrow. He calls it the "Centenary Stanza," and hopes to have it sung before it is a day old at a number of the churches and mass meetings here to-morrow. The lines are as follows:

"Our joyful hosts to-day
Their grateful tribute pay
Happy and free —
After our toils and fears,
After our blood and tears —
Strong with our hundred years —
O Lord, to Thee."

—The Pittsburgh Post, Pittsburgh, PA, April 30, 1889, p. 1.

Note: April 30, 1889 was the 100th anniversary of George Washington's inauguration.

Duellists With Short Names Have Better Success

1889

Duellists With Short Names.
[Atlanta Constitution.]

A short man is said to be quicker on trigger than a tall man, and a man with a short name is said to come out best in a duel. Colonel Cash, the South Carolina duellist, used to say that in every regular duel fought in the United States the man with the fewest syllables in his surname always killed his antagonist. He mentioned the cases of Burr and Hamilton, Barton and Decatur and others, and said that it had been true ever since David killed Goliath. A few months later Colonel Cash added to the record by killing Shannon in a duel.

—The Pittsburgh Post, Pittsburgh, PA, April 20, 1889, page 5.

A Poem of Spring – "A Maiden Song"

1889

A MAIDEN SONG.

She ties her strings of lighted hair,
And o'er her comely forehead bare
She nimbly draws a wimple;
With lissome speed athwart the mead
She sings through cheeks that simple:
"Oh, violets are blowing!"

Her buoyant arm a basket swings;
The boyish winds her kirtle toss,
And rimple o'er her tresses' floss;
With sidling ear she seems to hear
A voice that sings to silver strings:
"Oh, violets are blowing!"

The sweeping swallows dive to set
In airy rings a coronet
Upon her head that dances,
And on the bill of birds that trill
The burden sweet she fancies:
"Oh, violets are blowing!"

Within the brooks that break away
To bargain at the booths of spring,
She drops her face, and hears them sing
Of sunbeams' worth and sweets of earth,
But with their lay she dreams they say:
"Oh, violets are blowing!"

Through grasses lush, with rise and dip,
Along her winged ankles trip,
Where thoughts of spring are vieing,
To where she hears with woodland ears
The fairies softly crying:
"Oh, violets are blowing!"

—Edward A. Valentine in N. Y. World.

—The Pittsburgh Post, Pittsburgh, PA, April 20, 1889, page 4.

Hundreds Fear Being Buried Alive

1889

DREAD OF LIVE BURIAL.

Hundreds Who Fear the Coffin Will Close on Them Alive.

Many people who come to us have a dreadful fear that they may be buried alive, and, while there is a remote possibility that this might happen, says a N. Y. undertaker, I have not known a single instance of it in all my experience. These people insist on my promising to observe the utmost precaution even so far as to run red-hot needles into their bodies, and other equally barbaric treatment, before they are finally consigned to the earth.

About four years ago a young man called upon me one morning in a terrible state of agitation. He had dreamed the night before that his sister, who had been recently buried, had come to life after being placed under the sod. I tried to prove to him the utter improbability of such an occurrence, but without avail. He insisted that her grave should be opened that he might be satisfied. I was actually horror stricken at the suggestion, not that I had the remotest idea that his dream could prove true, but the thought flashed across my mind that if it should be so the shock would make him a raving maniac.

I tried to persuade him to defer the matter until the following day, but he positively refused. Finally, as there was no other way out of it, I consented, and, having obtained the necessary permit, the body was exhumed and to my inexpressible relief the absurdity of the young man's dream was proven. The effect on him was magical. He looked sorrowfully on the face of his dead sister a moment and then burst into a flood of tears, and, throwing his arm around my neck, he wept from pure excess of joy.

—The Kellogg Enterprise, Kellogg, Iowa, December 20, 1889, page 1.