Kansas Physician Confirms Howard Report

[TradeName]

Thank, Jeff.

Here are some random bits from Brookfield's memoirs.

Random Reminiscences (London: Edward Arnold, 1902), link
by Charles Hallam Elton Brookfield

Page 27

It must have been in about 1875 that the committee of the Savile Club paid me the honour of election. Their house was then in Savile Row. I believe the Savile was originally a doctors' club. I know there was a superstition prevalent among the non-scientific members that the smoking-room at the back of the house, with its top light, had in its time served as a dissecting-room, and that the physiological members used to fill in their spare moments after luncheon or tea by a little desultory autoptical investigation. If the sealing-wax were missing from the writing-room, we obstinately suspected it had been used by the hall-porter to display the arterial system of some surreptitious subject that the doctors must have smuggled in at some time when they had the club to themselves.



Page 28-30

I remember one of the stories—' A Superior Animal'—which was 'syndicated ' by [walter] Besant's able friend, Mr. Watt; that is to say, it appeared in a number of local papers in different parts of the country, so that I received about four times as much for it as I should have been paid by any solitary editor. I was correcting a proof of this effort in the solitude of the card-room one afternoon, when Rudyard Kipling came in and asked to look at it. He spoke most kindly of the tale, but had many suggestions to make with regard to the telling. 'Don't you see how much stronger that would be?' he asked after suggesting an excision and a transposition. 'D'you mind if I alter it?' And, so saying, he whipped out a pencil and set to work; and having once put his hand to the plough, so to speak, he persevered, and in a few minutes the whole virgin expanse of proof was furrowed and hoed and harrowed and manured and top-dressed by the master. I packed up and despatched the corrected sheet there and then.

The result was unexpected. I received a most abusive letter from the editor, saying that if I imagined his compositors had nothing better to do than to try and decipher Chinese puzzles I was gravely mistaken; that they had been put to great inconvenience to fill in at the last moment the space my story should have occupied; that they certainly shouldn't use it now, and were extremely sorry they had paid for it; and that they were writing to Mr. Watt to complain. I had not the Christianity to write and tell the editor that what he was discarding as worthless rubble was, in reality, sparkling with Kipling nuggets.

'A Superior Animal' appeared also in the Bristol Times and Mirror. It had (originally) a most artistic, unconventional, and thrilling finish, of which I was duly proud. When I saw it in the West Country paper I found an entirely unauthorized, commonplace, and impotent conclusion, which annoyed me excessively. I wrote, accordingly, an icy letter to the office, asking how it came about that the termination of a story appearing over my name had been altered without my sanction. I received a curt note from the sub-editor, saying that he didn't know who I was; that the only individual he recognised in the transaction was Mr. Watt; and that he 'put an end to the story because it didn't appear to have one.' I wrote back and said:

'Dear Sir,

'The village editor has no more right to adulterate a story than the village grocer has to sand the sugar, though I am aware that the custom prevails in both cases.'

This closed the correspondence.

Pages 144-145

The regular 'house of call,' however, for the members of the Haymarket Theatre was the Café de l'Europe, a few doors up the street. It has frequently changed hands—-and names—-but no one has yet succeeded in making a fortune there. The miscellaneous company that used to frequent it afforded me endless entertainment. There were respectable tradespeople from the neighbourhood, 'lumberers,' confidence-men, money-lenders' touts, journalists, and actors, and occasionally a Scotland Yard detective or two. I made friends with several of 'the boys,' as the flash gentlemen who live by their wits are called. One of them showed me one day a very ingenious contrivance. This was a teetotum with a movable stem. Such of my readers as are familiar with this amusing toy will, I hope, forgive me for explaining it for the benefit of the remainder. When you spin with one end, only a i or a 2 or a 3 will turn up, but by surreptitiously pushing the stem through, and so spinning on the other end, with the top the other way up, it will expose a 4 or a 5 or a 6. 'There was an American I got acquainted with at the "Piccadilly,"' my friend told me, 'who knew—well, he seemed to know as much as what / did. Racing, cards, he wouldn't be taken on at anything. One morning I got up and I lay this 'ere teetotum in the gutter of the Haymarket just alongside of the curb. Presently I meets my Yankee friend. "'Mornin', Seth," says I. "How are you?" says he, and we start down towards the Two Chairmen for our first drink. All of a sudden I kicks up this bloomin' top. "Hullo!" says I, "'ere's some poor little kiddie been and dropped 'is top. Poor little beggar! he'll miss that, I dare say, as much as you or I'd miss a ten-pound note. I'm passionately fond of children," I says ; " I've got five of my own." And we got yarning away about kids and that. Presently we gets to the bar. "What's yours?" says I. "No, no," says my Yank, "this is my shout." "Not a bit of it," says I. "I insist," says he. At last I says, "Let's spin and see whose turn it is with this kiddie's top." And we started spinning for drinks, and we got on to shillings, and dollars, and sovereigns, and before twelve o'clock I'd lifted just on two hundred pounds off of him.' And then, after a pause, 'And all down in that little bit of bar across the way there—-the Two Chairmen they calls it.'

Page 161

There was still a tendency, even as late as 1884, for a few malcontents to muster on a Haymarket first night and clamour for the missing pit, to the inconvenience of the rest of the audience. So on my first night I engaged a few fighting men to keep order. During the overture an individual in the front row of the gallery began to shuffle his feet, and to call out, 'Where's the pit?' He was picked up by his collar and the seat of his trousers and handed over the heads of his neighbours from one of my sturdy stewards to another, until at last he found himself at the top of the gallery staircase, where an East End light-weight, in an excess of zeal, struck him on the side of the head and knocked him downstairs. He wrote me a protest against my 'cowardly attempt to burke an expression of honest opinion.' I replied by acknowledging the receipt of his letter—' which was evidently written under some misapprehension.'

Pages 205-206

A few years ago I met at Cowes an American 'sport' called 'Colonel' Troy. I believe he has since died. He was a man of about fifty, stout, with his sandy hair en brosse and a moustache hérissée. The only feature that gave him away was his eyes, which were small and furtive. He was a genial old party, but with that strong strain of selfpity which is conspicuous in all the habitual criminals I have met. They have no sense of right and wrong (though they generally have many other excellent qualities), but, in place of it, a perpetual feeling of grievance against the existing order of things. 'Colonel' Troy waxed quite pathetic over his own plight. 'You know, Mr. Brookfield,' he said, 'I'd give anything to have a small annuity—-say about 2,000 dollars—-just enough to live on in some little quiet watering-place. I hate late hours, and I hate cards! As it is, I make the acquaintance of some bright young fellow; he invites me down to his place and gives me the best of everything; and after dinner, when I'd like to go to bed like everything, I have to say to myself, "No; you've got to sit up and rob this young man. That's the return you're goin' to make for all his hospitality." Mr. Brookfield, it's a miserable life, and I hate it.' The obvious alternative, which he could not face, however, was giving it up.

Pages 290-291

[About a trip to New York.]

But, talking of hospitality, I did on one occasion during my four nights' stay have it forced upon me in a way that some might not have relished. Amongst my letters of introduction I had one to Mr. 'Bob' Pinkerton, a partner in the famous detective agency, who was extremely polite when I called, and detailed one of his men to 'show me around' that evening. A tall, well-dressed, extremely agreeable man called for me at my hotel soon after dinner, a Mr. O'Donoghue. He took me a most entertaining round. We visited the Chinese quarter, which, though not to compare with the China Town in San Francisco, is nevertheless very interesting. Most of the little men appeared to be married to Irish wives. One of these told me she would rather have for a husband a Chinaman who would work than an Irishman who wouldn't. I did not discuss this nice point with her. We visited a joss-house and a Chinese theatre, where we saw a portion of a native melodrama played in front of the orchestra, which was on the stage. Then we went to a music-hall, where all the audience were Jews, and to another where they were all 'men of colour.' Then we called on ' Steve Brodie, B.J.,' which initials do not signify that Steve is a member of a religious community, but that he once jumped off Brooklyn Bridge and deems himself champion bridge-jumper of the world. He presides over a drinking saloon on the Bowery, and there I was introduced to sundry 'toughs' and ' Bowery boys' and 'sports' of various types. [...]

[Mayerling]

Thank, Jeff.

Here are some random bits from Brookfield's memoirs.

Random Reminiscences (London: Edward Arnold, 1902), link
by Charles Hallam Elton Brookfield

Page 27

It must have been in about 1875 that the committee of the Savile Club paid me the honour of election. Their house was then in Savile Row. I believe the Savile was originally a doctors' club. I know there was a superstition prevalent among the non-scientific members that the smoking-room at the back of the house, with its top light, had in its time served as a dissecting-room, and that the physiological members used to fill in their spare moments after luncheon or tea by a little desultory autoptical investigation. If the sealing-wax were missing from the writing-room, we obstinately suspected it had been used by the hall-porter to display the arterial system of some surreptitious subject that the doctors must have smuggled in at some time when they had the club to themselves.



Page 28-30

I remember one of the stories—' A Superior Animal'—which was 'syndicated ' by [walter] Besant's able friend, Mr. Watt; that is to say, it appeared in a number of local papers in different parts of the country, so that I received about four times as much for it as I should have been paid by any solitary editor. I was correcting a proof of this effort in the solitude of the card-room one afternoon, when Rudyard Kipling came in and asked to look at it. He spoke most kindly of the tale, but had many suggestions to make with regard to the telling. 'Don't you see how much stronger that would be?' he asked after suggesting an excision and a transposition. 'D'you mind if I alter it?' And, so saying, he whipped out a pencil and set to work; and having once put his hand to the plough, so to speak, he persevered, and in a few minutes the whole virgin expanse of proof was furrowed and hoed and harrowed and manured and top-dressed by the master. I packed up and despatched the corrected sheet there and then.

The result was unexpected. I received a most abusive letter from the editor, saying that if I imagined his compositors had nothing better to do than to try and decipher Chinese puzzles I was gravely mistaken; that they had been put to great inconvenience to fill in at the last moment the space my story should have occupied; that they certainly shouldn't use it now, and were extremely sorry they had paid for it; and that they were writing to Mr. Watt to complain. I had not the Christianity to write and tell the editor that what he was discarding as worthless rubble was, in reality, sparkling with Kipling nuggets.

'A Superior Animal' appeared also in the Bristol Times and Mirror. It had (originally) a most artistic, unconventional, and thrilling finish, of which I was duly proud. When I saw it in the West Country paper I found an entirely unauthorized, commonplace, and impotent conclusion, which annoyed me excessively. I wrote, accordingly, an icy letter to the office, asking how it came about that the termination of a story appearing over my name had been altered without my sanction. I received a curt note from the sub-editor, saying that he didn't know who I was; that the only individual he recognised in the transaction was Mr. Watt; and that he 'put an end to the story because it didn't appear to have one.' I wrote back and said:

'Dear Sir,

'The village editor has no more right to adulterate a story than the village grocer has to sand the sugar, though I am aware that the custom prevails in both cases.'

This closed the correspondence.

Pages 144-145

The regular 'house of call,' however, for the members of the Haymarket Theatre was the Café de l'Europe, a few doors up the street. It has frequently changed hands—-and names—-but no one has yet succeeded in making a fortune there. The miscellaneous company that used to frequent it afforded me endless entertainment. There were respectable tradespeople from the neighbourhood, 'lumberers,' confidence-men, money-lenders' touts, journalists, and actors, and occasionally a Scotland Yard detective or two. I made friends with several of 'the boys,' as the flash gentlemen who live by their wits are called. One of them showed me one day a very ingenious contrivance. This was a teetotum with a movable stem. Such of my readers as are familiar with this amusing toy will, I hope, forgive me for explaining it for the benefit of the remainder. When you spin with one end, only a i or a 2 or a 3 will turn up, but by surreptitiously pushing the stem through, and so spinning on the other end, with the top the other way up, it will expose a 4 or a 5 or a 6. 'There was an American I got acquainted with at the "Piccadilly,"' my friend told me, 'who knew—well, he seemed to know as much as what / did. Racing, cards, he wouldn't be taken on at anything. One morning I got up and I lay this 'ere teetotum in the gutter of the Haymarket just alongside of the curb. Presently I meets my Yankee friend. "'Mornin', Seth," says I. "How are you?" says he, and we start down towards the Two Chairmen for our first drink. All of a sudden I kicks up this bloomin' top. "Hullo!" says I, "'ere's some poor little kiddie been and dropped 'is top. Poor little beggar! he'll miss that, I dare say, as much as you or I'd miss a ten-pound note. I'm passionately fond of children," I says ; " I've got five of my own." And we got yarning away about kids and that. Presently we gets to the bar. "What's yours?" says I. "No, no," says my Yank, "this is my shout." "Not a bit of it," says I. "I insist," says he. At last I says, "Let's spin and see whose turn it is with this kiddie's top." And we started spinning for drinks, and we got on to shillings, and dollars, and sovereigns, and before twelve o'clock I'd lifted just on two hundred pounds off of him.' And then, after a pause, 'And all down in that little bit of bar across the way there—-the Two Chairmen they calls it.'

Page 161

There was still a tendency, even as late as 1884, for a few malcontents to muster on a Haymarket first night and clamour for the missing pit, to the inconvenience of the rest of the audience. So on my first night I engaged a few fighting men to keep order. During the overture an individual in the front row of the gallery began to shuffle his feet, and to call out, 'Where's the pit?' He was picked up by his collar and the seat of his trousers and handed over the heads of his neighbours from one of my sturdy stewards to another, until at last he found himself at the top of the gallery staircase, where an East End light-weight, in an excess of zeal, struck him on the side of the head and knocked him downstairs. He wrote me a protest against my 'cowardly attempt to burke an expression of honest opinion.' I replied by acknowledging the receipt of his letter—' which was evidently written under some misapprehension.'

Pages 205-206

A few years ago I met at Cowes an American 'sport' called 'Colonel' Troy. I believe he has since died. He was a man of about fifty, stout, with his sandy hair en brosse and a moustache hérissée. The only feature that gave him away was his eyes, which were small and furtive. He was a genial old party, but with that strong strain of selfpity which is conspicuous in all the habitual criminals I have met. They have no sense of right and wrong (though they generally have many other excellent qualities), but, in place of it, a perpetual feeling of grievance against the existing order of things. 'Colonel' Troy waxed quite pathetic over his own plight. 'You know, Mr. Brookfield,' he said, 'I'd give anything to have a small annuity—-say about 2,000 dollars—-just enough to live on in some little quiet watering-place. I hate late hours, and I hate cards! As it is, I make the acquaintance of some bright young fellow; he invites me down to his place and gives me the best of everything; and after dinner, when I'd like to go to bed like everything, I have to say to myself, "No; you've got to sit up and rob this young man. That's the return you're goin' to make for all his hospitality." Mr. Brookfield, it's a miserable life, and I hate it.' The obvious alternative, which he could not face, however, was giving it up.

Pages 290-291

[About a trip to New York.]

But, talking of hospitality, I did on one occasion during my four nights' stay have it forced upon me in a way that some might not have relished. Amongst my letters of introduction I had one to Mr. 'Bob' Pinkerton, a partner in the famous detective agency, who was extremely polite when I called, and detailed one of his men to 'show me around' that evening. A tall, well-dressed, extremely agreeable man called for me at my hotel soon after dinner, a Mr. O'Donoghue. He took me a most entertaining round. We visited the Chinese quarter, which, though not to compare with the China Town in San Francisco, is nevertheless very interesting. Most of the little men appeared to be married to Irish wives. One of these told me she would rather have for a husband a Chinaman who would work than an Irishman who wouldn't. I did not discuss this nice point with her. We visited a joss-house and a Chinese theatre, where we saw a portion of a native melodrama played in front of the orchestra, which was on the stage. Then we went to a music-hall, where all the audience were Jews, and to another where they were all 'men of colour.' Then we called on ' Steve Brodie, B.J.,' which initials do not signify that Steve is a member of a religious community, but that he once jumped off Brooklyn Bridge and deems himself champion bridge-jumper of the world. He presides over a drinking saloon on the Bowery, and there I was introduced to sundry 'toughs' and ' Bowery boys' and 'sports' of various types. [...]

Great stuff from Mr. Brookfield, in particular that editing job from Kipling that was rejected as illegible. I almost wish Brookfield had informed him (after the publication) of whom he had slighted.

I have not heard of Col "Troy", so I can't tell what his background is. Possibly as bad as that of Dr. Tumblety in it's way, but that's a guess.

In the last paragraph, Robert "Rob" Pinkerton took over the firm's management after the death of Allan Pinkerton (the founder of the firm) in 1876. He was, for a couple of years, friendly with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, personally showing him items of interest when the latter visited the U.S. Their friendship ended though when Doyle wrote the last Sherlock Holmes novel, "The Valley of Fear" which was based on the destruction of the "Molly Maguires" in the Pennsylvania Coal Fields in the 1870s by the Pinkerton agent, James McParland. This was changed to the destruction of the criminal gang, "the Scowlrers" in the "Vermissa Valley" by "Birdy Evans". Pinkerton felt that Conan Doyle had taken advantage of their friendship in using what was still (in 1914) classified material, and led to a break between the two men.

While in New York City on that trip (probably about 1890) Brookfield met Steve Brodie, who claimed he successfully jumped off the East River (or Brooklyn) Bridge and lived to tell about it. His feat was celebrated on stage and in song for decades before it was questioned. When the Brooklyn Bridge was opened in May 1883 it was the tallest structure in the New York City and Brooklyn area (before 1898, when the boroughs unified to create the "City of Greater New York", Brooklyn was the fourth largest independent city in the United States - and the bridge connected it with Manhattan which was the actual city of New York at the time of 1883). The Bridge itself had been built only after a fourteen year struggle by John Roebling (who died of a tetanus infection from an injury on the bridge) and his son Washington Roebling (who at one point got a case of the bends, and his wife Emily took over giving his directions to the men from her ill husband). Ill-fortune conspired against the Bridge, including a panic (ten days after it was built) where pedestrians thought it was falling, and in the rush trampled about a dozen people to death. Then in November 1883 a diving instructor named Robert E. Odlum made an illegal dive off the bridge - but died. Brodie came along about two years later, and was seen leaving the East River all wet, claiming he jumped. Problem was (later discovered) that Brodie never was seen jumping from the Bridge itself. Although accepted in his time as the man who had jumped and survived, it is more than likely he made the thing up.

Jeff

[TradeName]

Two articles about Steve Brodie's alleged feat.


New York Sun, July 24, 1886, Page 1, Column 3

BRODIE JUMPS THE BRIDGE

RISKING ODLUM'S FATE AND ESCAPING ALIVE AND SOUND

His Wife Dressed Him for the Feat--Friends
were in a Boat to Pick him Up--He Goes
to Sleep in the Tombs Feeling that he is
the Biggest Man in the Fourth Ward

Steve Brodie, the newsboy pedestrian,
tired two years ago of being "King of the
Bootblacks," and resigned the leadership to
his brother Dan. Ever since then he has been
planning to jump from the Brooklyn Bridge.
He had an idea that there would be glory and
money in it. Six months ago he gave up his
place as boss bootblack at the Mills
building and came mighty near sailing
on Soto's filibustering expedition to
Honduras which wound up by leaving
a lot of Fourthwarders stranded on
Turk's Island. He came to the conclusion
that there was neither glory nor
money in Central American filibustering
and he took the money he had saved to
Brighton Beach every race day to accumulate
more by betting it on the races. He lost almost
all he had and the last two weeks he had an
especially hard time of it.

On Tuesday of last week he says he rode up
from the beach with a sporting man named
James A. Brennan. Brodie began talking on
his hobby of jumping off Brooklyn Bridge, and
said he was willing to do it any time if there
was any money in it. Brennan said he would
put up $100 that Brodie couldn't do it. Brodie
took him up and went into training for the
jump. He made another bet of $25 that he
would jump from High Bridge, and early on
Sunday morning last, he says, he went up with
a few friends and jumped off. He said at the
time that he had jumped off High Bridge once
before and didn't think anything of it. He felt
jubilant over winning the first bet and told all
his friends that in the latter part of the week
he would jump off Brooklyn Bridge and make
a name for himself.

On Thursday he went around the Fourth
ward and asked the advice of his friends about
the best time to jump. He said he thought of
jumping that afternoon, but they told him it
wouldn't be a good time, and he said he would
postpone it. Most of them thought the whole
thing was off. That evening he consulted some
more friends who are compositors in a newspaper
office, and he made arrangements with
them to witness the jump yesterday morning.
Then he went to to the back tenement at 85
Chystie street where he lives with his family
and has two rooms on the north side two flights
up and went to bed.

Yesterday morning his wife dressed him.
She was proud of his courage and wanted to
do all she could to have him succeed. He had
got a long strip of canton flannel, and this was
wound around his loins, abdomen, and chest
five plies thick. It covered him from below his
thighs up to his armpits. After it was tied in
place he put on a thick knitted red Jersey over
it, a pair of heavy striped trousers, and a pair
of old patent leather low shoes with thin soles.
His wife knotted a white silk handkerchief
around his neck over his jersey. Alter putting
on his coat and taking up his black soft felt hat
he started down town.

Near the bridge he met Dan Houston of 13
Elm street. He said to Houston: "I'm going
to jump the bridge and I want you to come
along and help me."

Houston asked him If he was n earnest.
Brodie answered that he was and promised
Houston $15 and a suit of clothes if he would
get a boat and pick him up. Houston promised
to do it. The two went on down Frankfort
street, and on the corner of Gold street they
met Paul Butler and Tim Brennan. Brodie
made the same offer to them, and told them
that he was going to make $100 from his jump
at once, and more in the future, and that he
would divide up half the $100 with his friends.

They all went along down South street to the
Battery. There Dan Houston hired a boat for
two hours from an 18-year-old boy who had
charge of it. He agreed to pay 30 cents an hour
and left his coat as security for the 60 cents.

The four men got into the boat and rowed up
to Dover street dock. There they met Jimmy
the Boatman and took him on board. They
paddled around for a while and discussed the
jump. Brodie said:

"Well, boys I've decided. I'm going to jump
the Brooklyn bridge."

The boat pulled up into Dover street dock
again. Brodie got out, shook bands with them
all, and at half-past 11 o'clock be started up
Frankfort street to the bridge. At a quarter
past 12 he came back and said that the wind
was too strong just then. The boat was tied up
at the pier until 1 3/4 o'clock, when Brodie said
that he was going to jump for certain, and
started again up Frankfort street. The boat
pulled out with Dan Houston, Tim Brennan,
Paul Butler, and Jimmy the Boatman on
board, and hovered in the river south of the
bridge. The tide was just beginning to run
out. Tugs and ferryboats were continually
passing, but none of them took any notice of
tbe boat or its occupants.

Brodie had had two drinks of whiskey during
the morning before be left his four friends
in the boat. He went up Frankfort street
alone. At Nassau street he met Jerry Kane
and said:

"Jerry, I'm going to jump the bridge. I've
got 20 cents, and I won't need only two to get
out on the drive. Come in and have a drink."

The two went into Kosmak's. Kane drank
beer and Brodie whiskey. They went out and
stood by the wagon road over the bridge. Bugs
Waterman was standing there.

"Bugs," said Brodie. "I'm going jump the
bridge. Come along and see me."

Waterman said he would. Brodle must have
found some more money about him than the
20 cents, for he took a dollar bill from his
pocket and said:

"Boys, this is my last dollar. Come and have
a drink."

He and Waterman went into Kosmak's.
When they came out Kane asked Brodie if he
was in earnest about jumping off the bridge.
Brodie said he was, and that he was going to
start at once. Kane left him and started down
Frankfort street to Dover street dock.

Waterman remained with Brodie. Brodie
stopped three or four wagons and asked them
to take him over the bridge. The drivers
refused. He stopped a coach that a boy drove,
but the boy refused. Brodie's coat was
buttoned over his red Jersey, and there was nothing
unusual in his appearance. He saw a man
driving a red wagon with one horse up Park
row. There were only a few lengths of pipe in
the wagon and the load was light. He went
down Park row, and stopping the driver, asked
him to take a drink. The driver and Brodie
went into Kosmak's. A minute later the driver,
Waterman, and Brodie climbed up into the bed of
the wagon. Brodie paid the driver two cents,
and they started over on the south roadway.

Before the wagon passed the New York tower
Brodie, who was standing up in the wagon, took
off his soft hat and waved it. It was a signal to
his friends in the boat. Besides these watchers,
Forest Rush, Charley Stevens, William Romayne,
Tim Chrystal, and Patsy Sullivan were
on the lookout on the Dover street pier.

One hundred and twenty feet beyond the New
YorK Tower Brodie took off his coat and tossed
it on the wagon bed. It was ten minutes after
2 o'clock. He dropped off the wagon and walked
along a few feet behind it. He was very nervous,
and tapped his feet on the board flooring
as if going to dance a clog. In a sing-song
voice he hummed to himself:

Lum te tum, lum te tum, God will help me, God will
save me.

He snapped his fingers over his head as if he
were trying to distract his mind by recalling some
[...] minstrel ditty. Nobody except
Waterman, the driver, and Policeman Michael
Lally was in sight on the roadway.

Brodie stopped humming, and climbed up on
the iron netting that guards the sides of the
drive and over the heavy iron railing. As he
let himself down Waterman cried:

"Look out! There's a man going to jump off
the bridge!"

Brodie was clambering down the outside of
the railing to the stringpiece below. The policeman
did not see him, and went up to the
wagon. Waterman was getting frighened and
greatly excited, and Lally, thinking he was the
man, was going to arrest him.

"I ain't the man," he shouted. "It's him.
Stop him." He pointed to Brodie, and the
policeman rushed over toward the railing. The
driver of the wagon, being a prudent citizen,
whipped up his horse, and with Waterman's
and Brodie's coats on board, drove rapidly
across. That was the last seen of him.

Brodie had let himself down over the outside
guards to the level of the floor of the bridge.
He grasped the stringpiece underneath the
flooring with both hands and hung there for
ten seconds facing up the river. The policeman
saw it was no use to attempt to stop him
and ran for the New York side of the bridge.

Brody [sic] swung to and fro twice trying to steady
himself before he let go. His legs were close
together as if tied. His face was turned up
and he took a long breath. He worked his
hands close together, and his body finally hung
still, without swinging.

He let go. With his arms outstretched
straight above his head just as they were when
he hung to the stringpiece, he started down the
124 feet to the water. His fingers had partially
closed again after letting go their hold. Two
thirds of the way his bodY flashed down rigid.
The felt hat that he had waved and dropped
just before he flung himself free fluttered in
the air following him slowly to the water. His
friends in the boat had rowed up to within a
few feet of where they expected him to fall.
His friends on the shore timed him.

Fifty feet from the water he whirled a quarter
way around to the left and his face could be
seen by the people on the pier. His lips were
clenched and his nostrils dilated. As he turned
his arms bent at the elbows and came down
bent forward so that his fists were about at the
level of his eyes, his knees bent slightly and he
put his right foot forward and lurched forward
a trifle with his body. His attitude was much
like that of a runner about to start a race.
His friend thought he was going over on his
side, and Houston shouted, "He's lost--he's
lost!"

But he came down feet foremost after all. He
neither flopped nor turned further. His elbows
bent a little more and just before hitting the
water he squatted slightly.

Time of the fall--3 seconds and perhaps a
little over. He struck squarely on his feet. He
was not inclined 15 degrees from the perpendicular.
The splash was very slight. Spray
flew up ten or twelve feet, and there was a hole
for a second where he had sunk. From the
time his head was seen over the railing to his
striking the water not over thirty seconds had
elapsed.

In seven seconds after he went under the
water he came to the surface, rolled over on
his back and blew the water out of his nose.
The rowboat was within thirty feet of him.
Houston and Butler dived in after him. Houston
got to him first, and the two swam back to
the boat. Brodie swam on his back. He needed
no assistance. He climbed in, and after a
snort that cleared his nose, he said:

"Bully boy, Steve. Thank God I've done it.
Luck is wid me. Where's me children? Boys,
didn't I do it?"

Each of his friends told him that he did.

"I said I was going to jump the bridge, and
I've done it. Haven't I? Every one of you
saw me do it. Didn't you?"

Houston tore open Brodie's shirt, produced a
bottle of brandy, and rubbed his chest with the
spirits. Brodie took no drink until he got to
land. The boat was rowed over to the pier at
the foot of the bridge tower, and Brodie and
Houston were landed on the spiles there.
Houston had lost his hat and a shoe. All this
time Butler Was struggling about in the water
where he had been left. An oar had been
thrown to him or he might have drowned. He
shouted for help, and two policemen and a
crowd came. A tug and the boat went for him
and took him ashore. Brodie didn't like his
place on the spiles, dived off, and swam across
the slip to Dover street pier. A rope was
thrown to him and he climbed up on the pier.

Bridge Policeman Lally had been on a dead
run down from the bridge entrance, and was
seen coming down the pier. Brodie got back
into the boat.

"Fetch that boat into the dock," said the
policeman. "Come in here."

"Do you want to arrest me?" said Brodie.

"No."

"Won't you touch me?"

"No."

Then Brodie and his friends came in. Brodie
and Brennan were arrested and taken to Oak
street police station. Brodie look off all his
wet clothes and capered around in the policemen's
room. There were no bruises of any account
apparent on his body. On his right
shoulder was a little red spot, and his rightside
was red as if it had been scraped when he
climbed into the boat. He said that he had
been turned on his rightside in striking, and
that his side was very sore. He howled and
talked incoherently and boastfully. Dr. White
come from Chambers Street Hospital in answer
to an ambulance call. He pulled Brodie's arms,
sounded his chest, prodded his stomach,
yanked his legs, and then said that there was
nothing the matter with him except that he
had been drinking a little too much. He had
taken a glass of whiskey in the station house,
and a reporter went out and brought him a flask
full, which he was not allowed to tOuch.

"Doctor, ain't I hurt?" he asked. The Doctor
told him he wasn't. "Why ain't I?" he asked
again.

Word had been sent up to 85 Chrystie Street,
where Mrs. Brodie was anxiously waiting. She
sent down a bundle of dry clothes and he put
them on. He and Brennan were entered on the
blotter aS

Stephen Brodie, bookmaker, 23 years of age, native of
New York, married, lives at 85 Chrystie street. Drunk
and disorderly.

Timothy Brennan, foreman at 13 Franklin Street, 24
years old, from Boston, lives at 214 East Broadway.
Same charge.

"Is there anybody that don't believe I jumped
the bridge?" Brodie continually asked. "Ain't
I got sporting blood?"

Outside the station a crowd had gathered
that blocked up Oak street, and policemen had
to clear a way before the prisoners could be
taken to the Tombs. The crowd bowed down
before Brodie.

"He's de biggest man in de Fort' ward," said
a young man.

"Yes," said Brodie, "Sam Patch or none of
dem fellers ain't anything to me."

If a vote had been taken at once who should
be the next Alderman to succeed P. Divver,
Brodie would have been next to unanimously
elected, although he lives in the Tenth ward
now. He walked proudly over to the Tombs
Court, occasionally remarking on his own
greatness.

Justice Kllbreth was holding court when
Brodie arrived. Jimmy Oliver's brother was on
hand as counsel. Both Brodie and Brennan
were arraigned. It took some time to get a
charge that would hold Brodie. He had not
collected any crowd, for the crowd had been
gathered by Butler's cries that he was drowning.
He was not drunk enough to be locked
up as drunk and disorderly. So Policeman
Lally swore that Brodie had attempted suicide,
and he was locked up in cell 23 in the lower
tier of the main prison, for examination this
morning. Brennan was held, too, but his employer
Myles Walsh, who is a bookbinder at 13
Franklin street, gave ball for him.

Brodie went to his bed in his cell at once.
When his occupation was taken at the Tombs,
he said with pride that he was a bookmaker at
the races. The charge on the slate over his
door reads "Attempted suicide."

Mrs. Brodie brought her three children,
Irene, 5 years old, Steve Jr., 3 years old, and
Nellie, three weeks old, to the Tombs to see
him as soon as he was locked up. She brought
a dozen bananas and the evening papers with
her. Brodie lay in bed and ate bananas while
he talked and read the papers. To a SUN reporter
he said:

"I've been thinking of this for two years. I
did it on a bet of $100. I can make more off it,
though, and I'm willing to jump again any
time. It's not much. I've jumped off High
Bridge twice and a big bridge out in California.
It seemed a long time coming down, but I
didn't mind it. I knew I was going down
straight, and I didn't trouble about lighting so
long as I came down on my feet. I feel all
right except on my side, which is a bit sore.
'Tain't nothin' to jump the bridge if you only
make up your mind to it and do it right.

After his wife left he fell asleep.

Brodie was born 23 years ago on Park street.
His father was an Irishman and died years ago.
His mother is still alive. There were four
brothers of them--Dan, Steve, Tom and Eddie.
Eddie was a little hunchback who used to keep
a restaurant on Nassau street near Ann. He
is dead. Steve began business as a newsboy
and bootblack. He was enterprising and got
charge of the bootblacking stand at French's
old hotel, where he had two assistants. He
lived in the Newsboys' Lodging House and began
his pedestrian record by making 90 miles
there in 24 hours. Afterward he made a tour
of the West and was in many walking contests.
That is what gave him the name of "The Newsboy
Pedestrian." His last contest was in Baltimore.
On returning he took charge of the
bootblack stand in the Mills building where
he had two helpers. Once in a while he got a
chance to make $100 in a lump by something
out of the usual run. When the last filibustering
expedition to Honduras was being got up
he acted as recruiting agent for Cherry Hill.
six months ago he gave up his place in the
Mills building and has been playing the races
since. Now there is a dime museum prospect
before him.

His wife was Bridget Breen, a small pretty
black-eyed girl, who thinks nobody is so brave
or so great as her husband.

Brodie is about 5 feet 7 1/8 inches high, lean
and hollow eyed. His hair is black and his
cheek bones are prominent. He is a typical
Fourth ward boy.

One man had jumped off the bridge before
Brodie. Prof. R. E. Odlum did it on May 19,
1885, and died of it. Several cranks and
seekers for sympathy have started to jump or
made a pretence of it, but none got any
further than the guard rail

----end

New York Sun, July 25, 1886, Page 9, Column 3

Divver Bails out Brodie

The Bridge Jumper Won't Run against Him for Alderman.

Thinks of Going Starring Instead--How he
Felt when he was falling--In Favor of
Prohibiting Other Folks From Trying It.

Alderman P. Divver showed yesterday
how a man with a pull and a great head can
make hImself solid and shine in the lustre of
a noble deed by goIng on the bail bond of Steve
Brodie, who jumped from the Brooklyn Bridge
on Friday. Steve had thought of moving into
the second district to run for Alderman, and
had consulted with his friends about it, but
after the magnificent action of P. Divver he
came up to THE SUN office and announced:
"I'm for P Divver, and it's not me to go back
on a friend and run against him for Alderman
before he's got his share."

Brodie is himself a member of the Tammany
district committee. He slept soundly in his
cell in the lower tier in the Tombs on Friday
night, ate a hearty breakfast yesterday, and
wanted more. The Tombs court room was
packed as soon as the doors opened by reformed
filibusters and other Fourth warders. A bridge
policeman brought a note to Justice Kllbreth
from the trustees asking that the hearing of
Brodie's case should be postponed until next
Wednesday, when their lawyer can be present.
The Justice told the policeman to go and fetch
a copy of the bridge ordinances, or something
that would show what offence against the bridge
Brodie had committed when he jumped off. He
was held on the charge of attempted suicide,
which is a felony, and Jimmy Oliver's brother
Frank, who looked after him could not see
what the bridge ordinances had to do with it.
In the meantime Brodie was holding a reception
to privileged friends and his family in his
cell. He made a little speech and said:

"Boys, hain't I done it? Yo's all knows that
I jumped de bridge. Didn't I? I'm de only
man that ever jumped de bridge."

In an hour and a half a squad of bridge policemen
appeared in the court carrying a pasteboard
card 10 inches by 8. It was an official
bridge ordinance poster and was reverently
laid before Justice Kilbreth. It recited that
wagons must not drive on the cartracks and that
passengers must not walk on the roadway or
smoke in the cars or whittle the iron rails or
chip pieces off the towers.

Justice Kilbreth read it over carefully and
handed it back, saying there was nothing there
to hold Brodie. Frank Oliver asked for Brodie's
release. The Justice refused, and remanded
him in $1,000 bail for a hearing next Wednesday
morning. Jim Brennan, who was arrested
at the same time, and is also out on $1,000 bail,
will appear at the same time.

Alderman P, Divver was in Brooklyn when he
heard of the trouble his promising ex-constituent
and competitor was in. He flew to the
Tombs and went Brodie's bail. Brodie was
brought up to sign the bond.

"How do yoU do, jumper?" said the Justice,

"How do you do, Judge," said Brodie.

Commissioner Porter was standing near by
and said: "It was a great thing, but don't you
do it any more."

Brode said he would consider the advice.
As soon as the bail bond was signed he was
released, and went at once to a neighboring gin
mill where he drank four sarsaparillos, one
seltzer, and an occasional hard drink, while he
told his story with the refrain, "Didn't you see
me jumping de bridge? Well, I done it, and I kin
do it again."

A lot of museum men swooped down on him
with offers to exhibit. Nathan Morris offered
to give Brodie half the receipts and take him
to Coney island to exhibit when everybody on
the Bowery had seen him. Brodie wanted a
guarantee of $150 a week for a ten weeks'
engagement. Morris would not give over a
hundred, and no bargain was made.

After he was released, Brodie said: "No
more short horses for me. I've dropped $700
on the races in the past few weeks. I had but
one dollar when I jumped off the bridge, and I
spent that on drinks. I'm going to get the $200
that was up on this and return $100 to the man
who put it up for me. The other hundred I'll
live on till I get into a museum. I'd be satisfied
if I didn't make a cent. A Bowery museum
man offered me $100 a week, and a Baltimore
man has offered me $200 a week to be exhibited,
but I think I'll go with Tom McCoy and travel
over the country for twenty weeks on shares.

"You'll see a lot of sharks jumping off and
getting killed," he went on. "There ought to
be something done to stop it. Odium would
have got along all right if the police hadn't
hurried him. That's all there is to it. Any
man who is a trained jumper can do it. It
wouldn't do for him to jump head foremost.
He could just keep his arms stiff enough to
protect his head, and if he struck square on
his head the water would smash his skull and
kill him. Why, even in my shoes hitting the
water made my feet feel as if they had got a big
shock of electricity. There's the only place
that caught me--on my feet. The bruises on
mY chest and shoulder were caused, as THE
SUN said, by my climbing into the boat and
being hauled around.

"The first time I went up in the morning I
looked down and saw the boat four piers
below. They were afraid I would fall on them.
but I knew they were too far off to get to me in
time if I should be insensible when I struck. I
Went back and stationed them off the bridge
dock, and told them to keep about forty feet
away. Then I went back and got on the wagon
to go over the bridge. I hadn't picked out any
particular place to jump from. If the policeman
was in the middle of the bridge, I was
going to try it near the tower. If he was near
the tower I was going to the middle. When I
got off the wagon I got feeling queer. That's
what made me sing that [...] minstrel song.
But I says to myself, 'Here you are and you're
in for it, and I got over that railing pretty
quick. I climbed on down as I saw the policeman
coming for me. I knew he couldn't grab
me without climbing over after me, and if he
did that he might tumble off himself. I knew
he wouldn't do that, so I wasn't afraid, and
took my time. The air was swinging me too
much when I grabbed the wire underneath. It
was hard for me to get steady, and the wire
scrapped my hand."

He held up his left hand and showed where a
piece of skin as large as a cent had been scraped
from the Inside of his third finger.

"I held on there until I was steady, then I
let go. I looked all around. I saw a tugboat
that had just passed underneath going on down
the river, and there was a little schooner up by
Catherine Ferry tacking on down toward the
bridge. It was pretty far off, but I was afraid I
would fall on it. So I hurried up to get down
before it got under me. I took a long breath
and began to drop. I kept my eyes on that
little schooner coming down from Catharine
Ferry, and kept thinking that I was really
jumping the bridge.

"About half way down my feet began to
spread and I remembered and got them
together again and put up my right hand to
balance my feet. That brought them back. They
were about a foot and a half apart. I turned
my chin to my breast and looked down and
saw that there wasn't any chance of my lighting
on the little schooner. Then I looked up and
saw the policeman leaning over and watching
me. I tried to smile at him, but it was no
use. By this time I was right by the water,
and lit. As soon as I came up I swam to the
boat.

"I didn't take any full breaths on the way
down. I just heaved twice to keep my chest
firm. Lighting didn't sicken me at all. My
stomach was all rIght, and so was I. I
expected to be unconscious when I came to the
top of the water, and had a bottle of ammonia
and a bottle of whiskey on board to be rubbed
with. When they were rubbing me it smelled
so good that I took a few tastes. That was
what troubled me in the station house."

Brodie has bad tintypes made of himself as
he looks dressed in his diving suit. He got the
clothes from the station house and put them
on yesterday morning. The jersey sags like a
ball dress. His trousers are tied at the ankles
with cords, and there is a big bulge around his
waist and chest where the canton flannel is.

In Divver's last night Brodie signed a contract
to show at Tom McCoy's for two weeks at
$100 a week, and then to travel with McCoy at
same pay and expenses, "except wine," for
thirteen weeks. P. Divver signed for him as
surety and ex-Alderman Farley signed for
McCoy.

----end

[Mayerling]

Actually from the description of the placement of his witnesses, none saw him jump. He went beneath the roadbed of the bridge, and my guess is he climbed down as quickly as possible. He might get wet, but it would not be like Odlum's smashing into the river's surface (which from that height would be rather pretty hard - sort of like driving into a stone wall in a car). I guess Brodie was counting on his actions before the "dive", his friends and the police noticing some of his movements, and the bridge itself blocking full view.

Jeff

[TradeName]

Link to an article about Professor Robert Odlum's fatal leap from the Brooklyn Bridge in 1885. A member of Odlum's support crew, Captain Paul Boyton, was mentioned in an earlier post on this thread, "Dr. Benjamin Howard and Captain Paul Boyton."

New York Sun, May 20, 1885, Page 1, Column 1

He Met Sam Patch's Death.

Odlum Leapds from the bridge and is Picked up Dying

Smashed Against the Water, 140 Feet Below--A
Dummy Arrested by the Bridge Police
Just Before the Leap--Paul Boyton, Paddy
Ryan, Jerry Dunn, Muldoon, and Others
Waiting for him with a Tugboat on the
River--He is Brought Ashore in a Coffin--
The Coroner Orders the Arrest of All.

---end

A link to a biography of Odlum by his mother.

The Life and Adventures of Prof. Robert Emmet Odlum (Washington, D.C.: Gray & Clarkson, 1885), link
by Catherine Odlum


Steve Brodie tried to paddle down the East River in a Boyton-type inflatable suit.


New York Sun, April 25, 1887, Page 1, Column 7

Brodie Paddles Down the East River

Steve Brodie, the bridge jumpor, cllmbed into
a Paul Boyton rubber suit on one of the floats of a Harlem
boat club at the Fourth avenue railroad bridge
yesterday afternoon, and jumped into the Harlem River
with a resounding splash at 12 1/2 o'clock. His intention
was to propel himself down the river to the Battery in
four and one half hours with a canoe paddle. He had
intended to take along an umbrella that couldn't turn inside
out even if it wanted to, but he left it behind. His
brother Tom followed him in a rowboat with an American
flag stuck in the bow, and a crowd jammed Harlem
bridge to watch him paddle under it.

The tide was against him and at times twirled him
round like a chip in an eddy. Four hours after he started
he had got only as far as Grand street, and became stuck
there in an eddy near the ferry wharves. He tried for
twenty minutes to fight the eddy, and then gave the
thing up and came ashore. He was tired out, and his
face was burned as red as a lobster by the hot sun. He
wished he had taken his patent umbrella along.

---end

[Mayerling]

It was an era of athletic stunts of all kinds - some of which have stuck with us to this day. In 1875 Captain Matthew Webb swam the English Channel (the first person to do so), but he would die trying to swim the Niagara Falls Rapids about ten years later. The first person to go over the falls in a barrel was a woman in 1899.

There were also plenty of sports crazes around the glove. In 1889 for example, Spaulding (the U.S. sports equipment entrepreneur) took an all star "baseball team to give demonstrations of the national pastime in England, France and other countries (including Egypt). It wasn't a real success (the game was, after all, based on the old English game of rounders) and baseball only found favor in Latin America and (of all countries) Japan - where it has remained ever since. Britain and the Empire were to show the same devotion to cricket, although lawn tennis became popular. Germany found cricket becoming popular there as well, which became something of a "nationalistic" problem in the decades leading to both World Wars. But the biggest new sports craze of the 1890s was bike riding. This was due to the invention of the safety bicycle.

Jeff

[TradeName]

Brookfield recounts an anecdote about the American pedestrian, Edward Payson Weston.

Random Reminiscences (London: Edward Arnold, 1902), link
by Charles Hallam Elton Brookfield

Pages 55-57

Dull as practical jokes usually are, we perpetrated a fairly amusing one in about 1878 at Cambridge. There was at that time a man called Weston who was walking through England at some prodigious rate—-a hundred miles a day, or something of the kind (it may have been less, but my brain reels nowadays at the idea of anything over five). He wore on this expedition a close-fitting suit of velveteen, with knee-breeches, a sombrero hat, a broad ribbon across his body, and he carried a light cane. It was announced that on a certain afternoon Weston would enter Cambridge—-via the Newmarket Road and Jesus Lane—-at about five o'clock.

I believe it was W. G. Elliot who first conceived the idea of anticipating him. At all events, we selected one of our number who was more or less of Weston's build—-I fancy it was 'Peter' Burgess—-and procured for him a suit exactly resembling that worn by the pedestrian. We then 'cast' the rest of our number as trainer, doctor, timekeeper, newspaper reporters, etc., and made arrangements to invade the town on the appointed day in these characters. There was a good deal of excitement about Weston's visit. Scaffoldings were erected and rows of seats, and tradespeople let their shop-fronts at remunerative rates, and when the great afternoon came round every corner was crowded.

Shortly before five a little party hove in sight, the athlete in his unmistakable velvet suit, his wide-brimmed hat jauntily cocked, walking with an easy swing, fresh as paint. His trainer beside him carried a bowl of water, and occasionally flicked a few drops in his face or tenderly sponged his mouth. In a dogcart alongside sat a grave-faced doctor (bearing a striking family likeness to the one who a few years later attended Count Vladimir in the play of' Fedora' at the Haymarket Theatre), while a timekeeper recorded in monotonous tones each minute as it passed. At the back of the cart two eager reporters were writing in their notebooks at lightning speed.

The cheering was long and loud. At certain points wreaths of laurels and bouquets of rare flowers were hurled at the hero of the hour, but he could only acknowledge these by a graceful touch of the hat with the Wanghee cane he carried; he was obliged to hurry on to keep faith with the public. The floral tributes were placed in the back of the dogcart. At last the party, followed by an enthusiastic crowd which increased at every yard, reached the Bull Hotel. After vociferous acclamation the champion appeared for a moment at the window and said a very few words: 'Ladies and gentlemen, I am a walker, not a talker. But I thank you—-I thank you—-I thank you.' And the window closed —-the crowd went home.

At about half-past five, as workmen were taking down the deal stands that stood along Jesus Lane, a shabby, exhausted man appeared, covered in dust, his stockings ungartered, shambling along in evident distress. It was the genuine Weston. But the public wouldn't have him at any price, and greeted him with hoots and missiles. 'Some infernal charlatan,' said one, 'trying to impose upon us. Lucky he didn't come half an hour sooner. He might have taken us in.' 'Not a bit of it,' replied another. 'I've seen the posters. You can see at once; this chap's not a bit like them.'

---end

A contemporaneous version:

Vanity Fair, Volume 21, March 8, 1879, Page 137

There is an amusing story told of Weston's walk, to the following effect:—-

On the day when Weston was to reach Cambridge, an undergraduate, himself no mean pedestrian, started from a remote village on the route, arrayed in full walking trim, an hour in advance of Weston himself. As he proceeded he became encircled by ever-gathering crowds, who escorted him in triumph into Cambridge, where he walked in grand style into the inn where Weston was to put up, sat down to the dinner which had been prepared for the latter, ate it all up, and got away just in time to come upon the real Weston, whom he found in course of being mobbed as an impostor!

---end

[Mayerling]

Fascinating about Payson. I recall the detective story novelist, Peter Lovesey, wrote a "Sgt. Cribb" novel about early pedestrianism as a popular sport, "Wobble to Death".

I wonder what that incident alluded to by Brookfield (presumably in his memoir) was - regarding "Count Vladimir". Interestingly Saki wrote a story where his hero/anti-hero Clovis Sangrail pretends to be a "Count Vladimir" ["The Unrest Cure"], but it does not deal with universities or exercise (specifically pedestrianism).

Jeff

[TradeName]

Jeff, I think Vladimir is a character in the play Fedora. Brookfield played Gretch, the police detective, in the Haymarket production.

Dramatic Notes, Volumes 4-6, May, 1883

Pages 21-25

Review of Fedora


Page 77

Cast List for Fedora


An English language version, but I'm not sure if it is the one produced at the Haymarket.

Fedora: A Drama, link

This version of the story about that Baronet caught slumming in Whitechapel says, "He then turned his attention to theatricals, and when the Bancrofts produced Fedora they allowed Sir George [Arthur] to appear as the corpse. " i think "the corpse" refers to Wladimir. And the Bancrofts produced the Haymarket version.

Evening Post, Volume XXXVII, Issue 28, 2 February 1889, Page 1

ARREST OF A BARONET FOR THE WHITECHAPEL MURDERER.

[Mayerling]

I was reading the review of the play, and started looking at the actual translated text. I don't think this kind of play would make it with an audience in 2016, but it was meat and potatos for the melodrama loving audiences of 1882-83. Victorien Sardou (and his predecessor, Eugen Scribe) were the leading advocates of what was termed "the well-made play" where the physical structure of the business in the plot was all important. George Bernard Shaw made of this, calling it "Sardoodledum", but it influences his early plays, like "Arms and the Man" and "The Devil's Desciple", but Shaw's sense of humor covers it up by making tricks played by Scribe and Sardou on the audience into self-collapsing incidents (a key letter found by the heroine's father about Captain Bluntschli in "Arms and the Man" will reveal the circumstances of their embarrassing first meeting - but it is lifted from the father's person before he realizes it, and he shows massive confusion when he can't find it). The only real remnant of "the well-made play" from this period are the farces of Georges Feydeau with the timed entrances and slammed doors in his comedies.

I heard of the incident with poor Sir George Arthur. A matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Jeff

[Mayerling]

The Pedestrian hoax of Brookfield and his chums

After you showed the passage from Brookfield about how he and his friends pulled a fast one on the American pedestrian and the local university townspeople, I wondered why it sounded a little familiar. It occurred in the 1870s, and then I remembered today an incident from 1910 that is still admired as one of the best practical jokes on officialdom ever done. I'm referring to the "Dreadnought Hoax" of 1910.

H.M.S. Dreadnought was the most advanced piece of military hardware (and certainly naval hardware) of the pre-World War I period, forcing every major power to seek ships of similar speed and armament for their own fleets. In 1910 the Admiralty received word that the Emperor of Abyssinia and his official party were coming to England and sought to see the great ship. At the appropriate hour a train arrived and the Emperor and his party (in native "Abyssinian" garb showed up to be escorted by an official naval unit to see the battleship. The party of about eight included a translater (who was German) and spoke "Abyssinian" to the "Emperor" and his men. They would speak out loud so all heard them talking, and the entire visit proved to be successful except for one point: when an official barge was sent to transport the party to the "Dreadnought" a motor boat crossed it, driven by a naval officer. Later he would be reprimanded. It was one of first Sea Lord Battenburg's sons (possibly Lord Louis Mountbatten, of all people). But the repremander never seemed to notice that the young officer, despite his family connection, did not seem to be aware of the royal visitors of that day. It should have tipped him off.

Soon the hoax was exposed in London. Horace Cole, a notorious practical joker of genius, got his friends (including a young Virginia Woolf - then Virginia Stephen), to dress up as the "Abyssinians" and come to see the "Dreadnought" and it's crew in the best naval uniforms. The language spoken by the interpreter, was mispronounced Latin that the jokers had worked on (taking words and putting emphasis on the wrong syllable). A rather red faced First Lord of the Admiralty had to face the House of Commons asking questions about security regarding this.

Jeff

[TradeName]

Thanks, Jeff. I hadn't heard about the Dreadnought Hoax before.

The article about Steve Brodie and the Brooklyn Bridge mentions that Brodie had been involved with a filibustering expedition. The filibuster story had been covered for The Sun by Arthur Brisbane, who was the paper's London correspondent at the time of the Whitechapel murders. This thread, Author of Central News letters identified - 1891, discusses an 1891 article in which Brisbane is quoted as saying that the "Dear Boss" letter was concocted by John Moore of the Central News Agency.

Here's how Brisbane recalled the filibustering incident in a talk given in 1910.

University Missourian, January 20, 1910, Pages 1, 4

His Are the Yellowest
Brisbane Tells Students of his Newspaper Work--Some Experiences

[...]

Mr. [Arthur] Brisbane, in a reminiscent talk,
told of some of his feats as a young
reporter.

"I was once assigned to learn the
facts about the fitting out of a rubber-gathering
expedition designed to land
in Guatemala, dethrone the president
and make it possible for a rich Guatemalan
in New York City to assume
the presidency. Many reporters had
failed, but I went to a bootblack down
on the waterfront who was an exceedingly
smart bootblack. I learned the
purpose of the expedition and the
name of the man who was furnishing
the money.

"By holding to the rear of the man's
carriage I was able to ride with him
to his home, where I tried to interview
him. The rich man offered $8,000
to have his name suppressed, half for
me and half for the bootblack. The
bootblack wanted to take the money,
and threatened to cut my leg off if I
refused. The story was published, the
vessel was seized and sold by the
United States government as a pirate
for $250,000. The rich man escaped to
Guatemala and never was caught.["]

[...]

---end

A couple of articles from 1886.

New York Sun, February 7, 1886, Page 3, Column 5

Gone Filibustering

Fourth Warders Sail to Descend
on Honduras.

TURK'S ISLAND THE RENDEZVOUS.

Gatling Guns Said to Have Been
Shipped as Merchandise.

IS IT SOTO'S EXPEDITION?

Pistols Distributed to the Men Aboard
the San Domingo.
Some af the Fourth Warders Conclude that
Fighting is Ahead and Won't Go--One of
Them Brings Off a Navy Revolver as a
Mememnto--David Wallace Embraces Tearful
Marian May Aboard the Steamer and
Sails for Glory or a Grave--Brooklyn Elevated
Men Go Too--Teddy Dunegan of
James Street Tries to Dissaude Brother
Chris, But Chris Would Go--Supposed
Destination of the Forces is central America.

When the steamship San Domingo of the
Clyde line sailed for South America at twenty
minutes before 6 on Thursday afternoon she
carried a queer set of passengers about whom
there hangs an interesting odor of romance.
It is averred that there were in the cargo arms
shipped as lard or other merchandise, so that
the company would not know what it was carrying,
and the queer passengers were twenty-five
rather tough-looking citizens of this land
who had been engaged to do a llttle filibustering
among the South American republics.
Some of them know what they were going
down there for, but most ot them did not. This
is the story:

Three weeks ago Stephen Brodie, the newsboy,
a well-knownn citizen of tho Fourth Ward,
who has been a professional walker, and
who is now a member of the Tammany
General Committee of the Second
Assembly district, was leaning against
Martin's liquor store on the corner
of East Broadway and Catharine street, talking
to his wife, and waiting for fortune to blow his
way. Instead of fortune there came an individual
named James Halliday, and with
him a young man well known in
South street, who out of consideration
will be spoken of as Smith. Brodie knew Mr,
Smith, and courteously asked if be desired to
go through an opium joint or see the town, a
little pleasure which the newsboy occasionally
furnishes to his friends. Mr. Smith said no,
but that Brodie was just the man he wanted to
see.

INVITED TO GO PICK RUBBER.

"The fact is," Mr. Smith went on. after
introducing Mr. Halllday. "that we have discovered
a rubber field in South America. There's
millions In it." (Brodie grew interested.)
"And we want men to go down there and pull
the rubber. You are just the man to find the
men for us. We will give them thelr board and
$30 a month."

That as Brodie knew, was a fine offer in this
combination of bad weather and hard times,
and he promised to bring half the men in New
York; at the same time inquiring why they
came to him instead of advertising, since an
advertisement would bring them more men
than they knew what to do with. Mr, Halllday
answered this question.

"The moneyed man, who is running the
thing," he said. " wlll not let us advertise for
fear it would be made public. He does not
want the snap given away, and then an ad.
would bring us a gang of worthless bums. We
want good men. In fact, to be frank
with you, we want tough men, men who are
not afraid to fight. If we could fix it, we want
men out of jail, men who do not care what
they do, men whose lives are of no value to
them."

Brodie explained that the latter class of men
were very rare, and inquired why so much
fighting blood was wanted. It was explained
to him that the country was full of Indians and
bad men, who wanted to keep all the
rubber to themselves, and who would fight.
Mr. Brodie said that Indians were nothing; according
to what he had read one New York boy
could kill a tribe, and that if this job was such
a good one he would send his brother Tom,
who happened to be out of work.

"Good." exclaimed tho young man called
Smith. "I'll make him a Second Lieutenant,"

"Of what?" said the newsboy. "This isn't
crooked. Is it?"

His suspicions were allayed, and he promised
to be on hand in front of Mash & Crook's restaurant
on Park row the following morning
with six men, including his brother Tom.

He was there, and these are the six men wbo
were With him, ready to "pull rubber" and
fight Indians: Wm. Doran 22 years old,
of 456 Pearl street; James Bogan, from
the Howard House on Chatham street;
Sandy Dick, who has no other name, and who
came with Bogan from the Howard House;
Dutchy Gleason, who lived in James street,
and could be heard from at Case's liquor store:
Johnny Connors of the Howard House, and
Tom Brodie, the newsboy's brother.

A RENDEZVOUS IN OLD SLIP.

Mr. Smith, the young gentleman, and Mr,
Halliday were on hand, but it was announced
that the expedition had been delayed by a
failure to make certain arrangements. Other
meetings were had, until at last, on Wednesday
last, the day before the San Domingo
sailed, Brodie got a note from
Mr. Smith telling him to be at 147 Cherry street
at 7 o'clock that evening. Brodie was there
with his men and his brother, and was
put off for the last time. Mr. Smith failed
to appear, but sent word for Brodie to
be patient, and come at 10 o'clock the next
morning to the office of Jones & Williams, shipping
agents, of 23 Old slip. Brodie was there,
and everything was all right. A lot of other
men were there, who had been brought
together by Mr Halliday, and when
they had all signed tbeir names, they were
marched down to 147 Cherry street, which is
the home of Mr. Williams, one of the firm, who
is better known as Taff Wllliams, a lover of
game fowl. It was as a **** fighter that young
Mr. Smith first made Mr. Williams's acquaintance.

While the men were at the office of the shipping
agents remarks were made that caused
Brodie, the newsboy. some anxiety. A restless
desire was shown to get the men away which
looked bad. and Brodie kept asking himself
over and over again:

"Is there anything crooked in this?"

"His suspicions increased after the men
were gathered in the house on Cherry street.
They were kept there surrounded with much
mystery until the ship was about to to [sic] sail,
and then they were taken down to the San Domingo,
which lay at Pier 86, East River, two at
a time. Tom Brodie, the newsboy's brother,
was made a sort of marshal to escort the
couples and keep them from running away.

MARIAN RAY WEEPS FOR DAVID WALLACE.

At the ship things were very queer and
romantic indeed. Ten of the men were booked
as cabin passengers aud fifteen as steerage
passengers. Brodie went on board, and was
astonished. One of the first sights that
met his gaze was Mr, David Wallace, rigged
out with much gorgeousness, including a suit
of bright blue with a silken stripe down the
trousers, and a jaunty travelling hat of heavy
cloth to match. Mr. Wallace is the young man
on whose account young Mr, Ray, who was
living happily at 1,007 Madison avenue, killed
himself, and endeavored to kill his wife, Marion [sic]
Ray.

Mr. Wallace was not alone. Quite the contrary.
His mother was tbere. and so was
Marian Ray, the wound made by her husband's
bullet not yet healed. She evidently knew that
Wallace was going to pull a very refractory
sort of rubber, and was grieved to see
him go. Mr. Brodie. whose word can be trusted,
declares that she hung upon his neck, crying,
"Good by, sweetheart," in a way that quite
disgusted him with the newsboy: so much so
that as soon as he saw his wife he told her that
if she ever did that to him he would cut ber in
pieces,

"And," said Brodie afterward. "I would."

While on the ship Brodie went with bis
brother Tom into the cabin of Halliday. and all
indulged in wlne.

In the cabin, besides Halliday and the
Brodies. were Tom Loftus and Fred Perry,
who are among the important members of the
expedition.

After tbe wine was drank, Loftus handed to
Tom Brodie a big revolver of the bulldog pattern,
and said: "Here, take this. There is
only one man to kill."

This did not make Tom feel cheerful. He
ran out after his brother. who had just gone
up stairs, and demanded an explanation. The
newsboy did not give any. but said:

"Tom, you had better jump off Ihls thing
and go home."

Tom did so, abandoning his clothes, which,
he says, were worth $22.

THE SAN DOMINGO SAILS.

When the ship pulled out on her interesting
trip there were twenty-five men aboard. Ten
of them who were in the cabin knew
pretty well what they were about;
those in the steerage had only a
vague idea. They had pledged themselves
to fight Indians, and. in a general way. to pull
rubber in spite of everything. This list gives
an idea of some of those men who went, and
what they were. Among those in the cabin
Who travelled as flrst-class passengers were:

David Wallace. the lover of Marion Ray, who
understood that he was to be a sort of Lieutenant,
and who looked very swell.

John Perry, a conductor on tho Brooklyn Elevated
Railroad, of whom it is said that he was a
very smart young man, and belonged to a good
family, &c.

John Perry, in the course of his adventurous
career has been a professional walker,
and was beaten in a walk in Philadelphia
eight or nine years ago by Brodie, the
newsboy, who was a walker then also. When
asked how he came to be in such a crowd,
Perry replied, just as he was about to start:

"I got into it becauso I was a d--- fool, and
I'm too deep in to got out now.["]

James Halliday, the leader among them all,
was. of course, a first-class passenger, too. He
would be much more than a llttle private when
he gets under command of Uen. Delgado, who
has been cruising around the Honduras coast
of Central America on the steamship City
of Mexico looking for a landing, and
whom it is supposed this party is to join.
Just who Halliday is no one seems to
know. It is he who had most to do in getting
the little band together, and he was rendered
attractive by the fact that he was provided
with $1,000 to spend in making himself popular
and keeping up his men's spirits. Mrs. Ray
knew Mr. Halllday qulte well, it seemed, and
klssed him good by.

Then there was Tom Loftus, already spoken
of, who will be in charge of the ammunition,
and who will be expected to be in the storage
a good deal, so as to keep the subalterns
cheerful and resoulute [sic] by comforting words
of promise. His duty will also be to explain to
them gradually just what they are going down
for. Mr. Loftus is known by overy one in
Cherry street, and will be very badly missed.

Thomas Fraiser from Boston is also travelling
toward victory and gore in first-class style.
He will be expected to work the gatling guns
that are said to form part of this outfit.

Another of the lucky ones is an Englishman
named Ball, who used to carry newspapers in
Rochester. Mr. Ball is described by friends as
an extremely solid and dangerous personage,
admirably calculated to capture a small South
American republic all by himself.

Among the steerage passengers are:

James Gleason, called "Dutchy," of 88 [?] Monroe street,
William Austin of Oliver street, young William
Doran. called the "Kid" of the Franklin
House, 456 Pearl street, and Johnny Connors,
22 years old. of the same place; also Alexander Dicks,
nicknamed Sandy, and big James Bogan, called Ryan,
both of the Howard House, Bowery and Roosevelt street.

Doran is a printer, and Connors used to work
in Walsh's newspaper mailing agency in Frankfort
street. They both left the Franklin House
about a week ago.

Bogan and Dicks were employed as compositors
in Scott's publishing bouse, in Park row.
They came to the Howard House together
on last Friday, and on Saturday
night were put out for coming in
drunk and raising a disturbance. Bogan was
registered at the hotel under the name of
Ryan. "Wallace" was written on the register
of the botel on Jan. 28.

SAID TO BE SOTo'S EXPEDITION.

The story told to Brodie by his brother made
the newsboy more suspicious than ever, and,
leaving the ship, he climbed into a carriage
in which sat young Mr. Smith waiting
for the ship to start. Mr. Smith
was feeling very sociable and kind, and was
not inclined to keep back what he knew, he
simply asked Brodie to see if the ropes were
off, and when he learned that the vessel was
under way he told the story.

The expedition, Mr. Smith said with a frank
smile, was really not to pick rubber. It was
sent out in the interest of Mr. Marco
Amelio [?] Soto, a very rich and very good
South American gentleman, who had been
greatly wronged. This was how it was, according
to Mr. [Smith], Soto, in 1883 was President of Honduras.
He resigned on account of the wicked
action of Gen. Barrios, then President
of Guatemala, who wanted to force
a Central American Union, which President
Soto objected to. Gen. Bogran, supported by
Barrios, whose arms were back of him, became
President of Honduras, and the friends of Soto
were greatly oppressed. One, a iad
of 17, named Velasquez, was beaten to
death by order of Bogram [sic] because he
sent a marked copy of a paper containing a
caricature on Barrios and Bogran. Ever since
that time Soto's friends have been importuning
him to use his fortune of four
millions to overthrow the present Administration,
and become President himself.
Soto[, who] preferred to enjoy his wealth in
quiet, and indulge in literary pursuits, was
willing. He sent one expedition down there
on tho City of Mexico, Mr. Smith said. That
has not got along very well. This expedition
was to come to the rescue by furnishing arms
and tough fighters to Gen. Delgado,
who is in command of the Mexico. Just
how the forces would unite Mr. Smith did not
know, but probably the San Domingo would
meet the Mexico at some one of the numerous
little islands off the Mosquito coast or at
Turk's Island, where the men will be
transferred to the City of Mexico and
put under Delgado's command. The object
Mr. Smith says, is to land in Honduras or
Guatemala either and kick up a revolution.
Mr. Smith says that Mr. Soto would a little
rather be President of Guatemala than of Honduras.

GEN. SOTO DISOWNS IT.

Gen. Soto was visited yesterday afternoon at
his house at 854 Fifth avenue. His residence is
a veritable palace, and seemed much proferable
to anything in Central America. Young Mr.Smith
was sitting in one parlor. Mr. Soto was interviewed
in another. He said he knew nothing
about it at all, and did not know Mr. Smith,
who was supposed to be his agent. He had
never seen him. Three times during the interview
he went out to talk to Mr. Smith.

Mr. Soto said that the President of Guatemala
was his good friend. He did not want him
killed. He did not say as much for Bogran of
Honduras. He was out of Central American
politics forever. It was all nonsense.

THE ARMS SAID TO BE ON ANOTHER STEAMER.

"The truth of this matter is," said Jacob
Baiz, the New York consul for Honduras, last
night, " that the arms were not shipped on the
San Domingo. I do not know how many men
went in her, nor anything about her.
But during last Docember a party of
two hundred filibusters was recruited
here in New York to go down
and create a disturbance in Honduras. These
arms were to have been taken on board, but
they were stored in a bonded warehouse, and
on account of the mysterious actions of those
connected with them there was a hitch about
the delivery, and the gang took fright and disbanded.
The crowd was to have carried
out 2 steam launches, 4 other launches, 50
cases of rifles, 600 cases of cartridges, besides
other arms, making in all 740 packages.
Finally the City of Mexico left for Progresso
with a cargo of corn, carrying along twelve
filibusters, of whom Gen. Delgardo was the
leader, and a few days later the arms were
shipped to Kingston, Jamaica, on the steamer
Audos[?]. The government at Jamaica refused
to allow the arms to be landed except on
the condition that they were to be returned
to New York, and obliged the steamer's owners
to give a bond of $2,000 that the arms would be
so returned, The arms were therefore transferred
to the steamer Albano, and they arrived
in New York last week. Meantime the City of
Mexico had discharged her corn, and sailed
for Belize. where she arrived on Jan, 6.
On Jan. 12 she sailed fur Bluefields, on
the coast of Nicaragua, having taken
on twenty-seven more filibusters at Belize.
The Bluefields authorities, knowing their intentions,
refused to allow the filibusters to
land, and the City of Mexico sailed for Jamaica
via San Andreas to get the arms which she
expected would await her there. The last
heard of her was that she had
arrived at Port Corn Island short of
coal, and not knowing what to do.
In this emergency the Norwegian steamer
Fram was chartered to take coal and the arms
out to her at Port Corn Island, and she sailed
on that mission on Friday at 2 P. M. She had
aboard the arms brought back by the Albano.
They were transfered to her secretly in lighters.
She had been lying off Staten Island.
Suppose the filibusters make a landing, what
hope have they of overturning thw Government
of Honduras? Does the President employ a
bpdvguard?"

"President Bogran walked about as any
American does in New York. He has been
fully appraised ot the expedition, and is only
anxious that it shall arrive."

"I would like to have you say that information
received from Washington makes it appear
probable that an American steamer will
be sent out to bring in the City of Mexico, in
order to put a stop to this business, I am sure
that some energetic measures will be taken by
the American Government."

a FOURTH WARDER WHO DIDN't GO,

Charles Connors of 386 Pearl street, who
didn't go, said; "I heard it talked along South
street on Wednesday night that there was a
good job at Jones wllliams's shipping office
at 23 Old slip, awaiting any one who wanted to
go to Central America. I was on hand at the
office on Thursday morning with fifty-six
others, who were out ot work. Fifteen of us
were admitted to the room, and the others
were shut out. Tommy Loftus, a Spaniard,
who lives at 98 Monroe street and is a runner
for vessels, helped Jones make the selection of
men to sail on the steamer San Domingo that
afternoon. We were told that our passage
would be paid to Guatemala, and that we were
wanted there to pick rubber; but another story
was that we were to help lay a railroad in
Guatemala. of which a nephew of Jay Gould's
was the President. We found out that this was
nonsense, but for a time we supposed thst a
young man who was in the office
was the Guatemalan Railroad President.
We weren't told much about what our work
would be in Guatemala, but our names were
collected and read off by Tommy Loftus. As
each man's name was called he was asked to
put his signature in the centre of a piece of
paper put before him by Mr. Jones. There was
no other writing than our own on the slips of
paper we signed. We did not make any contract
to do work. We were told that a Mr. Holliday
was hiring us. We didn't see Mr. Hollidsy.
After all the names had been obtained. Jones
told us to go by two and threes to the San
Domingo's pier at the foot of Market street.
We were there by 4 P. M., and were admitted
aboard the vessel. Plenty of our friends were
on the pier, for it had been noised in the
neighborhood of our homes that we were going
to Central America without knowing for what
purpose we were engaged. Rumors that it was
filibustering expedition reached my ears, and
I determined not to go unless I knew what I
was sailing for. I couldn't find out from anybody
on board the vessel, and tried to persuade
Jerry Daly of 30 Madison street, and some
others of my companions to get off with me.
They refused, and I left the vessel without
them."

CHRIS DUNEGAN GETS AWAY FROM TEDDY.

Teddy Dunegan of S3 James street, whose
brother Christopher, 33 years old. signed, tells
this story:

"My brother had been in drink since New
Year's, and was out of his head. About 5 P.M.
on Thursday Michael McCormick of Cherry
street came to my widowed mother and myself
and told us that Christy was going to Central
America on the San Domingo to fight. Mike
said he had taken Jerry Daly off the vessel,
and that we'd better persuade Christy not to
go, if we wanted to see him alive again. My
mother and I hurried down to the vessel, and
I caught my brother on the deck, where nearly
all the fellows who had signed were lying
around drunk, and tried to take him
away with me. He hit me in the mouth
and ran down the companion way. and
hid himself somewhere in the hold of the ship.
The mate wouldn't let me go below to look for
him, but told me I could get a policeman. I
sent my mother to look for one, but while
she was gone Capt. Kelly, who, I believe,
is a brother of Capt. Kelly of the City of
Mexico, gave orders for sailing. I had to leave
the ship, but Capt. Kelly promised me he
would put my brother aboard tho pilot boat
and send him back. The pilot boat Marshall
returned to-night, but Christy wasn't aboard
of her.

"None of the fellows who sailed," said Dunigan [sic],
"know anything about a seafaring life. The
talk is around here that they have gone to fight.
But they're very light soldiers. Most of them are
chronic drunks. Toft Jones, I'm told, got $10
a head for shipping the fellows. Loftus went
along with them as interpreter. He is interested
in the affair, whatever it is, in some way. I
heard that a similar expedition, carrying
thirty or thlrty-five men, sailed for Central
America from Martin's stores, Brooklyn, today,
and that another vessel is to follow on
next Saturday."

WOULDN'T LET JERRY DALY GO TO WAR.

Jerry Daly of 30 Madison street told a story
similar to Connors's of the way tbey were
signed in tbe shipping office.

"I didn't think anything was crooked." said
Daly, "until some friends told me it was
filibusterlng, and I'd better come off. I
wanted to give up going. All the
other follows, except Connors, said they'd
stay, but I stepped off the pier to get a drink
of water. and Mike McCormick and others of
my friends nabbod me, and run me down the
pier into South street. I couldn't get away
from them, and the sbip sailed without me. I
ain't sorry, since I've heard I was hired to go
to war. It was a great bluff they gave us about
picking rubber or railroading. They said we
would be ten days making the passage to
Turk's Island, and that there we'd be put
on another steamer going to Guatemala. We
were told we'd be away five or six months, that
our wages would be paid regularly, and that we
wouldn't have to find our board nor clothes.
We didn't hear a word of it until Wednesday
night, and on Thursday we were rushed
through without much explanatlon. except
that we were told that we were getting something
pretty good."

THE SHIP OWNERS KNEW NOTHING OF IT.

W, P. Clyde & Co. are owners of the San Domingo.
Mr. Clyde said last night that no vessel
of his line would be permitted to carry
arms and men, for it would involve the
line in endless difficulties with the
Government of San Domingo and GUatemala
and interfere greatly with its business. The
steamshlp San Domingo was built for the San
Domingo line, and has never been chartered by
any other line or individual.

"The vessel was loaded at Pier 36, East River."
he sald, "because it was more convenient.
She carries general cargo. We have occasionally
shipped packages of firearms in the way
of business, but only small quantities. I do not
think the San Domingo is carrying arms this
time. If there are any on board the
quantity was so small as not to be
noticeable. If any one person paid the
passage of a number of men to any of the
ports we touch at it would cause comment,
and I should certainly hear of
it. I don't know just how many passengers
the steamer is carrying, but I
think the number is small. Our vessels always
stop at Turk's Island. We carry freight and
passengers there. The crew of the steamer
consists of thirty-five men, in charge of Capt.
Kelly."

At Mr. Clyde's shipping office, 35 Broadway,
the officer who cleared the San Domingo said
that the passengers numbered thirty-one, of
whom fifteen went in the steerage. He was
on the steamship just before the lines were
cast off. A young man who had come on
board with a party of respectable-looking
men, all of whom had bought tickets singly
at the Broadway office, was besought
by his parents not to go away, and
he went ashore. The party didn't look like filibusters.
One of them said that they were going
to become planters. This clerk says that
he knows that there were no arms and ammunition
on the steamer.

Mr. Julius, the senior member of the firm of
shipping agents, said to the reporter that a
nice looking young man visited the office in Old
slip a few days ago and on his application several
men were hired to sail on the steamship San Domingo,
but who the young man was, for
what purpose the men were hired, and what
their destination was Mr. Jones said he had
not the slightest notion.

----end

New York Sun, February 8, 1886, Page 1, Column 1

Hunting the Filibusters.

An Armed Vessel Searching for the New York Adventurers.

Ex-President Soto Tells all About the Expedition
and its Object--Gen. St. Delgardo's
Manifesto--Will the United States Interfere?--
Congressman Tim Campbell Appealed
to to Rescue the Filibusters From
the Fourth Ward--Honduras is Wide
Awake and Ready to Repel Invasion.

Mr. Marco Aurelio Soto, once President of
the republic of Honduras, was apparently not
a bit disturbed yesterday by THE SUN's discovery
of his filibustering expedition, the last
detachment of which was shipped on the steamer
San Domingo on Thursday last. He pulled
aside the big heavy curtains of his parlor in
which he was sitting in his palace at 854 Fifth
avenue. smiled a courteous Spanish smile upon
THE SUN reporter, bade him make himself at
home and talked to him cheerfully about the
filibusters, and why they had been sent forth
to battle for liberty and progress.

Brodie, the newsboy. who called upon Mr.
Soto early on Saturday morning to reproach
him for sending Fourth warders to the wars,
declared with a rather scornful sniff that the
ex-President of Honduras was not satisfied to
live like other people, but had built himself a
red brick castle, with fancy trimmings, under
the evident impression that he was President
of New York. Mr. Soto's house really is very
gorgeous. Two street-car horses might romp
through the big parlors without hearing themselves
move, so thick aud soft are the carpets.
They might also dash their heads sportively
against the walls without being hurt, for the
walls are not of plaster covered over with fancy
paper, as with ordinary mortals, but are soft,
yielding cushions, covered in one parlor with
pale blue satin, in another with green embossed
velvet. Stained glass lends splendor to
floors and windows. The Irish maid who opens
the door disappears with your card through a
plantation of marbles and bronzes, with a sort
of hanging garden of queer Spanish lamps
hanging over her head, and sending out all
sorts of colors. It is a fine place to live in--
much better than anything In Honduras,

But Mr. Soto is interested in Central America,
and he was kind enough to enlighten the public
about it through THE SUN reporter.

EX-PRESIDENT SOTO'S STORY

In 1883. he said, he was President of Honduras,
was living there happily with his family,
had been President for seven years, liked
his peeple, and was liked bv them. Everything
was prosperous and happy, when Gen. Barrios,
then President of Guatemala, the most powerful
of the five Central American republics,
went to work and spoiled it all. Barrios got
into his head a scheme for the union of the
five little republics into a United States of Central
America, and went to work without delay,
with the firm intention, of course, of being
boss of the union as soon as it was created.
President Soto says that he refused to go into
the scheme. A union of the republics, he says,
would be a grand thing, and he would approve
of it with all his heart if it was the right kind
of a union. In fact, the great problem of Central
America was how to bring the union about.
But Barrios was not the right man; there were
better men. and the proper thing to do would
be to let the people make their Constitution
and choose their President. Barrios would not
agree to that, and so Soto would not join him.

After his refusal the scheme was dropped for
the time, but Mr. Soto was made uncomfortable.
Gen. Bogran, who wanted to be President
of Honduras himself, kept doing wicked
things, encouraged and sustained by the moral
support of the powerful Barrios. By and by
President Soto learned that Barrios was
preparing to make war against him, and that was
the climax. Mr. Soto says that he knew that it
Was all a personal matter between Barrios, and
himself. He know that if he remained President
he would plunge his people into a bloody
and disastrous war, and he also knew that if he
went away there would be peace, so he resigned
the Presidency, packed up his things, and
came to this city.

THE CITY OF MEXICO BOUGHT TO FILIBUSTER

Bogran at once became President, supported
as he was by the army of his good friend Barrios,
and Soto's friends began to suffer. Mr.
Soto says that a revolution began to be cookod
up there by the leading men. Friends of Soto
wore especially persecuted, and they begged of
him to come and put himself at the head of the
revolution. Mr. Soto did not wish to do that,
but he was willing to do what he could to help
along. When Barrios, early in March, 1885,
declared himself military chief of Central
America, and prepared to carry out by force his
scheme of a union of the republics. Mr. Soto
Was determined that he should not succeed.
He got together men nnd ammunition, and
Was liberally devoting his fortune to making
things hot for Bogran, Barrios, and the union.
But just as he was ready to swoop down there,
Barrios was killed, and the idea of a union was
given up. Bogran promptly announcing after
Barrios's death that he wanted to go on in the
Old way.

Meanwhile. the revolutionary business was
going on steadily; the heads of the revolution
down in Hondurns were urging Soto to come
back, and Gen. Delgardo, who came up here
with a number of Honduranians, who were exiled
as Delgardo had been, urged Mr. Soto to
go back with him. Mr. Soto would not, but did
What he could in the way of furnishing ways
and means to help Delgardo along. The steamship
City of Mexico wns bought, and went
down to stir things up. She had on board Gen.
Delgardo and just twenty fighting men. Most
of them were Honduranians; two or three
were Cubans, and four were Americans. Among
the Americans was a man whose name Mr.
Soto could not exactly spell, but which sounded
like Tyrone. Tyrone was a friend of Mr. David
Wallace, the lover of Marion Ray, and Wallace
had an idea of going along, only he was prevented
by the smash up in his love affairs
caused by the suicide of Marion's husband and
his attempt to murder Marion.

The City of Mexico went to Progreso and unloaded
corn, which she had incidentally taken
along. Then she went to British Honduras,
where all the revolutionists hang out, and
Where the chiefs of the revolution stay and plot.
But at Belize, the port to which the City of
Mexico sailed, things were made very uncomfortable
for her. The Consul of Honduras did
all he could to be ugly, and so did the
Consul of Spain, a much more important
individual, who got it into his head
that that was another dreadful plot
to free Cuba. So the City of Mexico took on
board seventeen of the revolutionists who had
the best fighting blood and made for Bluefields,
on the Mosquito coast. A bad opinion was
formed of the City of Mexico's crowd. and they
were not allowed to land. It was intended to
make Bluefields a sort of general headquarters,
to prepare everythlng, and start from there
when things were more ripe to overthrow the
government of Honduras. Unable to land, the
City of Mexico went away, and just where she
is now neither Mr. Soto nor any one but those
on board knows.

REINFORCEMENTS FROM THE FOURTH WARD.

As it was impossible to make a headquarters
at Bluefields for the purpose of getting men
together, and as Delgardo had not enough men
Under him to do very much, it was thought advisable
to ship to his aid the cargo of Fourth
Warders and other New Yorkers which was
sent away on Thursday by the San Domingo
and told about yesterday in THE SUN. Mr.
Soto did not care to say very much about the
young men who went away, nor did he desire
to state that it was he who had sent them
or paid their expenses. Agents or friends
of Gen. Delgardo, he supposed, had attended
to that part ot the business; he
was a friend of Delgardo's, of course. Mr.
David Wallace was one of the men most anxious
to go. Shortly after the departure of the
City of Mexico he called upon Mr. Smith, the
young man who looked after things a little for
Mr. Soto and told him that he was in an awful
fix, and wanted to get away somewhere on
some sort of An expedition. The affair with
Mrs. Ray was making him uncomfortable, and
he wanted a change of air. Mr. Smith, who
had been introduced to Wallace by the man
Tyrone, who sailed on the City of Mexico, told
him he thought he could fix him out, and so
Wallace joined the expedition one of the very
first, James Halliday, an experienced man
with a cool, fearless head, who had been down
in that part of the country before, was to be
the boss of the expedition. Wallace was to
rank next to him.

Just where this expedition of gallant Fourth
Warders would find the City of Mexico and
Gen. Delgardo, Mr. Soto did not know. They
would have to go down there and look around
for the General until they found him. Mr.
Soto said the statement that those men were
going down there with the idea of assassinating
some Predisent to make room for himself
was all nonsense. He had not sent them on
any such errand, nor were they going to make
any attack on Guatemala.

WHAT THE FOURTH WARDERS ARE TO DO,

Honduras and the wicked Bogran were all that
they were after. And neither Halliday nor any
of the rest would do anything illegal. They
would go there in a quiet way, get as many as
possible of Soto's friends to Join them, and
overthrow the govenrment if they could. This
would probably include the killing of President
Bogran, who. it appears, is a fighter from a
long distance back, and is likely to make a
tough struggle. but this, as an intimate friend
of Mr. Soto's remarked, was not at all the same
thing as going deliberately to work to assaassinate
a man. If It should be the fate'of Gen.
Bogran to meet the Fourth warders and fall at
the head of his army. It was a glorlous and
perfectly legitimate death that no one could
complaln of.

Once the Government overthrown, Mr, Soto
said. the next step would be to learn the sentiment
of the people. The object of the expedition
was not to make Mr. Soto or any other
man President. The expedition was simply
sent out with the unselfish intention of restoring
to the poople of Honduras their rights and
privileges. They would then be summoned
to vote, and elect a President for
themselves. Mr, Soto's friends say that he is
very popular In Honduras; that he is, In fact,
the big man in the eyes of Central Americans,
and that they would want him to be President
beyond all doubt. But Mr. Soto chides them
for talking so. He says that that may not be
true at all. The people may not choose him
for President, and even if they do, it will be
necessary for him to think the matter over
calmly before making up his mind to accept
the proffered honor. Mr. Soto is fond of a quiet
literary life, and is not at all sure that he cares
to be President of Honduras or any other
country.

Friends of Mr. Soto had asserted to THE
SUN's reporter that Mr. Soto's plan included
the possible overthrow of the Government
of Guatemala, and insinuated that to be President
of that republic, which is a much finer
republic than Honduras, would suit Mr. Soto
quite as well. But this Mr. Soto altogether
denies. He says that the actual President of
Guatemala, Gen. Barillas, is a warm friend of
his; they belong to the same, the Liberal party,
and Guatemala is altogether out of
the question. Mr. Sato thought that the great
mass of Honduranians would hasten to join
Gen. Delgardo and the Fourth warders as
soon as they made a landing, and he had no
doubt of the success of the expedition, although
an armed vessel of Honduras is now
cruising to catch the City of Mexico before she
can land. Mr. Soto did not care to say anything
about the ship load of arms reported to
have left Brooklyn on Friday. In fact, he did
not know anything about such a ship load.

[...]

THE MISSING FOURTH WARDERS.

Every inhabitant of the Fourth ward had a
copy of THE SUN yesterday reading about his
acquaintances who had gone filibustering. The
departure of the San Domingo with Fourth
ward boys to do fighting with Gatllng guns
among the South American republics was the
topic that occupied everybody's mind. The
crowd around Case's liquor store, James and
Madison streets, was laughing over a recital
by Charles Connors, who didn't go, of the antics
on board ship by Chris Dunegan. the
undertaker's assistant, who had with him a shaving
mug, a razor, and a pair of scissors, and
declared himself the ship's barber. Chris used
to shave corpses for Undertaker Moran. His
mother, the Widow Dunegan of 33 James street,
is weeping over Chris and his chances of getting
shot. The companions of Jerry Daly of 80
Madison street, who kidnapped him from the
steamer just as she was about to sail, guyed
him all day about his having pawned his overcoat
because he was going to a hot country and
wouldn't need it, and having spent the money
for a flask of whiskey and cigars to comfort
himself with on the trip. A young citizen who
was set on going to Honduras was James Gleason,
called "Dutchy," of 98 Monroe street.
Dutchy's mother and sister bewailed his loss
yesterday,

"Jamie hadn't been doing anything for four
months," Mrs. Gleason said. "he came home
on Wednesday night, threw up his hat, and
said he'd struck a soft job at last. He was going
to Central America on the San Domingo,
he told us, to pick rubber for $30 a month. I
begged him not to go so far off in such cold
weather but he tied a suit of underclothes and
a pair of socks into a bundle and said they'd
be all he'd want. He borrowed fifty cents of
me to buy some tobacco and note paper to
write home on. Jamie was up early on Thursday
mornlng, and went out. He came in at
2 P. M. and bid us good-by. 'Don't fret,
mother,' he said to me. 'I'm going to boss
[...] and survey a canal. jay Gould's
nephew is hiring me. (This was a current
statement among all the men,
but they were mistaken or deceived.)
He says he's glad be'a got such a
lot of fine young fellows to go down there, and
that when we come back he'll see that we get
good jobs.'

"I didn't understand Jamie at all." continued
Mrs. Gleason, "and I got worried thinking
about his going off in cold weather without
warm clothes. I went down to the foot of Market
street and stood awhile on the sidewalk
looking at the steamer, and saw a man creep
over her side and let himself quickly down a
rope to the pier. Then he ran. crouched down,
until he was out of sight in South street. I
wondered if he was running away from $30 a
month and his board, which Jamie was going
to get. I went back to the house with a heavy
heart for Jamie."

Interpreter Tom Loftus's sister, Mrs. Samuel
Bond, who lives at 141 Cherry street, said:
"Tom brought a well-dressed man here on
Thursday and introduced him to me as Mr.
Halliday. He said Halliday was his Captain.
l asked Capt. Hallidav if there wasn't danger
of Tom being killed, 'No.' he said; 'do you
think I would go into danger myself? No; it's
perfectly safe.' Tom talked at first of going to
pick rubber at $30 a mouth, but a few days
afterward he said he was going to be an officer,
and would be paid $60 a month, because he
could speak Spanish. If he didn't like it in
Guatemala, he said, he'd jump across to Callao,
where his wife was, and make her a visit. He
wasn't going to let slip a chance to go to Guatemala
free."

Phil Loftus, Tom's younger brother, was the
first one signed, but he didn't go because, he
says, his brother-in-law, Sam Bond, gave him
the tip that a man who signed to sail in a ship
without his articles, stating what he was going
to do. was not far from a greenhorn. Phil told
Tom about Bond's misgivings, and Tom told
him, after some reflection, that perhaps he'd
better not go. one out of the Loftus family being
enough.

Young Loftus tells the same story as all the
others about the way the crew were engaged
in Jones & William's office. They were
all assured, he said, that when they came back
from Central America Jay Gould's nephew
would get them all good jobs for life, and Jones
& Williams told them they were willing to give
them a written guarantee that the promise
would be fulfilled.

Tom Loftus's friends want to correct the
statement that he is a Spaniard. He was born
and brought up in James street, and is a
genuine Fouith warder, but he has been to Panama,
and speaks Spanish like a native.

Tommy Nestor of Oliver street signed to go
and wanted to go, but his parents kept him
away from the steamer. He is glad now that
they did.

CONGRESSMAN TIM CAMPBELL APPEALED TO.

Billy Bogan. brother of Jim Bogan, who went
on the expedition, consulted some friends in
Alderman Pat Divver's place yesterday, and
acting on somebody's advice he hunted up
Congressman Tim Campbell, and told him, as
a Seventh ward constituent, that he wanted
the matter Drought up in Washington right
away and the San Domingo stopped before she
landed any of her passengers.

There is a rumor current In the Fourth ward
that another ship with ammunition and filibusters
aboard is to sail for Honduras this
week. The report that such an expedition
had sailed from Martin's stores, Brooklyn, on
Saturday, is apparently incorrect. Seventy
days ago the Miranda, an English steamer of
the Red Cross line, loaded guns and ammunition
at Harbeck's stores, and when she sailed
no one along the docks knew her destination.
The Quartermaster of the New York and Brazil
steamship Finance, now at the Brooklyn stores,
went aboard the Miranda as second mate. The
crew of the Finance tried to talk him out of going,
because he did not know why implements
were put aboard the Miranda, or where she was
going with them.

THAT CARGO OF ARMS.

The steamer Albano. with 740 packages of
arms, ordered back to New York by the
Nicaraguan Government, was lightered in New
York harbor last week by tho steam lighter Admiral.
Consul General Baiz was advised, by
telegraph that the owners of the steam ship
City of Mexico, which first took the arms out
from this city and from which the arms were
transferred to the Albano, had entered into a
bond of $2,000 to return the arms. The Consul
sent messengers to watch the lighter and see
that the arms were landed. The messengers
reported to the Consul that the men on board
the lighter said the lighter was to proceed
to the Eric Basin, and that there the
arms would be taken out and placed for
safe keeping in a storehouse until the
owner should prove his claim to them. Mr.
Baiz sent messengers to the Eric Basin, but the
lighter did not appear. She had disappeared
between Thursday night and Friday morning.
Mr. Baiz says that she transferred the arms to
the Norwegian steamer Fram, which sailed on
Friday for St. Andrews. The owners of the Admiral
are Shortland Brothers, 108 Wall street.
At the office of Shortland Brothers on Friday
and Saturday it was said by a member of the
firm that the lighter's whereabouts had not been
known for four or five days. Mr. Thomas F.
Shortland, a member of the firm, said yesterday
at his residence, 316 Clifton place, Brooklyn,
that the lighter was still missing. It was
not unusual, Mr. Shortland said, for a lighter's
whereabouts to be unknown to the firm for a
week or two. Mr. Shortland denied all knowledge
of the lightering of arms by the Admiral.

GLOOMY PREDICTIONS FOR THE FILIBUSTERS.

Mr, Baiz, the Consul of Honduras, said
that he had received a letter from Washington
which announced to him on the part of
the Government that the Fourth warders
would not be allowed to terrify Central America.
They would be sat down upon probably
by an American cruiser, which would be sent
after the City of Mexico, as a Hondurns cruiser
has already been sent. Mr. Baiz said, though,
that he did not think that Honduras was in any
very great danger. Mr. Soto, he thought, made
a mistake in measuring himself with Gen.
Bogran. who was much the best man. He said
that of course the entire expedition was
planned and carried out by Mr. Soto, who
owned the City of Mexico, and had put up all
the money. The City of Mexico, Mr. Baiz said,
was a very nice ship for passengers to travel
in, being very nicely fixed up, but was not very
useful as a privateer, as she burned a great deal
of coal, about twenty-five tons a day, and coal
was hard to get. As for the enterprising young
men who went to pull rubber. Mr. Baiz was
very sorry for them. If they succeeded
in joining Gen. Delgardo and landing,
which was doubtful, they would
all be shot, and if they failed to
find him and went ashore starvation and fever
threatened them. The interior of Central
America is healthy enough, but unacclimated
white men, Mr. Baiz says, cannot live on the
coast, and the Fourth warders would find it impossible
to get into the interior on account of
the expense. There is, however. plenty to be
had to drink at very reasonable rates. Mr.
Baiz is not going to complain against Mr. Soto,
or any one connected with the affair, but
declares himself quite satisfied with things as
they are.

The Republic of Honduras, which the New
York boys have gone to conquer, is about as big
as Ohio. It covets 17,090 square miles, and has
about 100,000 people.

CRUISING AFTER THE CITY OF MEXICO.

NEW ORLEANS, Feb. 7.-- The steamer E. B.
Ward, which arrived here today from Puerto
Cortez and Rustan, Honduras, reports profound
excitement in that country over the departure
of filibusters from New York and other
American ports for the purpose of overthrowing
the Bogran Government in the interest of
Soto. The Ward herself was impressed
by the Honduras Government to
transport troops from Puerto Cortez to Rustan.
The American bark Cofalu, from Bluefields,
Nicaragua, was seized by the Honduras Government
because she was not provided with
the proper papers, and was released only upon
the American Consul's furnishing a bond to a
considerable amount, American vessels are
watched with great suspicion, and are in danger
of detention unless, all their papers are in
perfect condition. The brigantine Walkua has
just been purchased by the Government, thoroughly
armed and equipped, and sent on a
cruise in search of the steamer City of Mexico,
on which are the followers of Soto.

----end

[Mayerling]

I checked Wikipedia, and Soto, Bogron, and Barrios all have biographies that basically back up the story about what is going on in Honduras and Guatamala. There was an attempt at unification of the Central American Republics at the time in the early 1880s, but it came apart because the elites that ruled the five republics (British Honduras - the "Mosquito Coast" referred to here - was not independent, and Panama would be part of Colombia until 1903) did not want to lose their separate strangle-holds on power. Actually such a union makes some sense, but it probably is too late by now.

"Filibustering" is an activity in U.S. - Latin American history since the 1840s. In the wake of the Mexican War's success in gaining territory for the U.S., and the growing slavery problem, many Southerners dreamed of seizing all of Latin America (especially the Caribbean area) and turning the lands and islands into Slave states). The most notable filibusterer was William Walker, "the Grey Eyed Man of Destiny" who did succeed in taking over Nicaragua from 1855 - 1857, ruling it as a despot. Walker (I believe from Alabama) hoped to use it for further expansion plans, but in 1857 he was overthrown - not by the U.S. government (under the pro-Southern Pierce and Buchanan administrations, Walker had little to fear from the Federal Government) but through the machinations of "Commodore" Cornelius Vanderbilt, who had property in Nicaragua (a railroad, to be exact) that Walker had appropriated. Vanderbilt backed the anti-Walker forces with cash and supplies, forcing Walker to flee - though not before he torched the capital of the country to show his fury. In 1860 Walker tried to repeat his actions in Honduras, but with far less success, ending up being shot by a firing squad.

The Civil War prevented further foolishness, but after it ended it returned in the 1870s. Cuba was the main drawer to expansionist freebooters. The island had long been coveted in Washington, and in 1854 Pierce's ministers to England, France, and Spain, met at Ostend in Belgium, and issued the "Ostend Manifesto" suggesting a policy of trying to convince Spain to sell the island to us, but if they did not to grab it by force. The stupidity of this public demand that the U.S. rob a neighbor of it's legal government did not enhance the U.S.'s image in Europe much. In 1873 a vessel, the "Virginius" sailed from the U.S. to Cuba with a full crew of freebooters, but it was captured in Cuban waters by a Spanish warship. The crew was imprisoned, and then some 23 or so were executed by firing squad without any real trial.
The British consul convinced the Cuban authorities to stop the slaughter, but there was real damage done due to this. Our Minister to Spain in 1873 was General Daniel Sickels, the "hero" of the Peach Orchard fight at Gettysburg, and a former New York Congressman who was best known for killing the District Attorney of Washington, D.C., Philip Barton Keyes, for having an adulterous affair with Sickels' young wife (Sickels was defended at his trial by future Secretary of War, Edward M. Stanton, and won acquittal with the so-called, "unwritten law" about killing adulterers). Sickels had been the chief secretary and assistant to James Buchanan in 1854 when Buchanan was the Minister to London who helped draft (no doubt with Sickels' assistance) that stupid "Manifesto". So he was gung-ho with the idea of seizing Cuba. As Spain was in the midst of the Carlist Wars, it might have been worth considering, except that the U.S. army and navy had been reduced from their tremendous fighting strength in the Civil War period in the post-war austerity budgets (especially our navy under Secretary of the Navy George Robeson).

Secretary of State Hamilton Fish was a former Governor of New York, and (great rarity here) an actually intelligent and competent member of the Grant Administration's Cabinet. He actually lasted for most of Grant's 8 years in office. He had just had the glory of seeing the "Alabama Claims" arbitration with Great Britain (regarding English built raiders damaging U.S. commerce in the Civil War) settled successfully. Now he had the "Virginius Affair" heating up, not helped by the bellicosity of Grant's choice for Minister to Spain, General Sickels. Fortunately, the British stepped in again, in the person of their Minister to Spain, Sir Austen Layard (the archeologist who found the site of the capital of Assyria, "Nineveh"). Layard and Fish worked hard to defuse the touchy situation with Cuba before idiots like Sickels forced us into a rather stupid war over Cuba. In the end Sickels did a grand stand approach of saying, "Either do it my way or I resign!" Fish informed him, he regretfully accepted Sickels' resignation. Once the General left Spain, the good work of Layard and Fish paid dividends. A small indemnity to the families of Captain Fry of the Virginius and the other victims of the firing squads was paid, and Spain and the U.S. had a breather of a quarter century before we had the war over Cuba.

In that period other filibustering expeditions were tried, and failed. Walker's attempt in Nicaragua was the only really successful one in U.S. history, and it too eventually collapsed. The idea of filibustering never died in the 19th Century. Much of the fiction of newspaper reporter Richard Harding Davis involves U.S. - Latin American situations regarding adventurers and revolutions in the republics. Same thing in some of the stories of William Sydney Porter ("O. Henry") such as "Cabbages and Kings", but Porter actually spent time hiding in Central America in the 1880s to avoid arrest and possible imprisonment for bank embezzlement in the U.S. (eventually he did return when his wife was dying, and after her death spent a term in prison - after he left he began to write his short stories).

In the coming events of the 1898 Spanish-American War over Cuba, filibustering expeditions were sent financed by Joseph Pulitzer's "New York World" and William Randolph Hearst's "New York Journal - American". These actually were to arm the Cuban freedom fighters, under figures like Calisto Garcia (later the titular figure referred to in Elbert Hubbard's essay classic, "A Message to Garcia"). The most notable filibustering event in the lead-up to the Spanish-American War was the chartering of the boat "Commodore" in late 1896. An old and leaky vessel, she sank on the voyage (Hearst and Pulitzer insisted it was scuttled by treachery, but it was an old vessel). On board was reporter Stephen Crane, working for Hearst's papers at the time. He managed to get into a lifeboat with three other men, and they were at sea for a number of days (the experience certainly was not good for the weak lunged Crane, and probably helped to shorten his life when he died in 1900 at age 29. But he turned the experience into his excellent novella, "The Open Boat".

After the "splendid little war" there are no further private "filibustering" expeditions that I know of. However the creation of the nation of Panama in 1903 has "filibustering" coloring at times. The Panamanians actually did want independence, and our interest in the scheme to build a trans-oceanic canal in their country actually gave them some hope. Then, when Columbia (after apparently being willing to accept the initial amount we offered to build the canal) insisted on more money, President Theodore Roosevelt okayed the actions of the Frenchman, Philippe Bunau-Varilla, who was representing the interests of French bond-holders on the failed 1881-89 canal that was under the company headed by Fernand de Lesseps, to move ahead. With a bunch of Panamanians in New York City, Bunau-Varilla got a constitution for Panama written, a flag created, and a signed agreement to accept American building of the canal, with a strip known as the "Canal Zone" to be controlled by the U.S. government. Arms were sent to Panama, and a revolt in Panama City overthrew the local Columbian Governor. Then the U.S.S. Nashville was sent to train it's guns on the only path the Columbian Army could use to invade and retake Panama. The Columbians had no choice but to recognize their former province as a new country.

Years later President Woodrow Wilson (who was also high-handed with Latin America, as witness his handling of Mexico during it's revolution from 1913 to 1920) got a briefly Democratic controlled Congress to pass a treaty paying an additional $21 million dollars "conscience money" to Colombia for that battleship business in 1903. Wilson had no great love for his rival Roosevelt, and the latter died in 1919, so Wilson got a posthumous vengeance on his rival. But in any event the interference with Panama is a turning point - from then on the U.S. imposes itself into Latin American government affairs like the filibusterers did in the 19th Century. I may add that most Latin Americans resent these actions, and wish we'd mind our own business.

Jeff

[TradeName]

Thanks, Jeff. Here are a few more articles about the attempted Soto expedition.

New York Sun, February 9, 1886, Page 1, Column 7

Our New York Filibusters

A Little Steel Propeller is Running the Wodden Steamer

Will the City of Mexico Make for New
Orleans?--The Gatling Guns and Ammunition
Bound for an Island of Nicaragua.

The brigrantine Waikna, which has been
purchased and thoroughly armed and equipped
by the Honduras Government to hunt down
the filibustering steamship City of Mexico of
New York, is doubtless the little 95-ton
brigantne-rigged propeller Waikna. She belonged
to A. T. S. Clarke and S. L. Cauldwell, brokers
of 50 Pine street. She is described as a very
swift and stanch new craft, built in Sunderland,
England, by B. Thompson & Sons. She is
104 feet long. 23 feet wide, and 8 1/2 feet deep.
Messrs. Clarke & Cauldwell had her built for
cruising in southern waters and doing a
little business at the same time. She
took on a miscellaneous cargo an4
cleared from New York for Brewster's
Lagoon, Spanish Honduras on Dec. 12.
Her owners, Messrs. Cauldwell & Clarke. Capt.
H. Ells, and a crew of seven or eight men were
onboard. The intention of the owners of the
Waikna was to anchor her at the mouth of the
river and have a good time cruising in the
shoal water on a steam launch they took along.
They probably sold her to the Honduras Government
for a big price.

The City of Mexico, which the Waikna is
hunting for, is twice as long as the Waikna
and seven times as big. What armament she
carries is a matter of surmise. She Is a wooden
vessel. The Waikna is built of steel.

The arms taken from the City of Mexico and
brought back to New York in the Atlas steamship
Albano have undoubtedly gone their way
to Gen. Delgardo in the Norwegian steamer
Fram, Capt. Berneldson, which sailed on Friday.
When the Fram cleared, her manifest entered
at the Custom House was only for a
small quantity of coal. By the law, which allows
a supplementary manifest to be entered within
four days, however, a document was presented
on Saturday, after the vessel had sailed, stating
that she had on board arms and ammunition
worth $26,989. On the list are 8 cases of tripods
for Gatllng guns, 55 cases of rifles, 42 cases of
shot, 4 cases of wheels and feed cases
for the Gatlings, 1 case of fuses,
20 cases of shells, 616 cases of cartridges,
and 38 bags of bugles and swords.
The Fram's destination is put down
on the supplementary clearance papers
as St. Andrews, West Indies. Mr. Sutton
of the Custom House, who holds the Fram's
clearance papers, said he knew no such place
as St. Andrews in the West Indies, and
considered the reported destination a bluff to conceal
the real destination. St. Andrew, however,
is a tolerably well-known island off the
Nicaragua coast. Lord & Austin of 6 Bowling
Green, who cleared the Fram, say that her destination
is St. Andrew. They say that they did
not know who held the bill of lading for the
arms and ammunition. There was nothing irregular
in the Fram's getting away with implements
of war. Her supplementary clearance
paper was a policy they chose to pursue.

The agents for the steamer Fram at this port
are Funch, Edye & Co. Mr. Edye said yesterday
that the Fram sailed under a time charter
for forty days. There was no specified port or
cargo in the charter party. Funch, Edye & Co.
had nothing to do with loading her, and did not
know anything about the cargo until they saw
the story of the Honduras expedition in THE
SUN. She will get to St. Andrew about next
Sunday.

The promoters of the expedtion were
anxious to buy one of the light steam fruiters
trading to the West India Islands, and began
negotiations for the Pomona, one of G. Wessels
& Co.'s steamers. Mr. Wessels said yesterday
that a merchant who was well acquainted with
the backers of the filibusters, as well as with
himself, tried to buy the Pomona secretly. There
was no difficulty about the price, but Mr.
Wessels, knowing the character of the expedition
for which the vessel was intended, refused
to sell unless public announcement of her sale
were made. Thereupon the negotiations fell
through.

Assistant United States District Attorney
Foster said yesterday that if Mr. Soto had fitted
out an expedition against Honduras, section
5.286 of the revised Statutes would be applicable
to his case. The section runs thus:

Every person who within the territory or jurisdiction
of the United States begins, or sets on foot, or provides
or prepares the means for any military expedition or enterprise
to be carried on from thence against the territory
or dominions of any foreign prince or State, or of
any colony, district or people, with whom the United
States are at peace, shall be deemed guilty of a high
misdemeanor and shall be fined not exceeding $3.000, and
imprisoned not more than three years.

Gen. Foster said that no communication or
information of any kind relating to the filibustering
expedition had, as far as he knew, been sent
to the United States District Attorney's office.

----end

New York Sun, February 16, 1886, Page 1, Column 6

News of Our Filibusters

They Are Tourists of Turk's Island at
Present--Stranded Without Money


The Fourth ward filibusters who sailed
from New York on the steamship San Domingo
to help kick up a revolution in Honduras were,
at last accounts, the terrors of Turk's Island.
They landed there an hour or two before the
steamer G. W. Clyde, which got here yesterday,
sailed from Turk's Island for New York. They
filled the natives with alarm, for they said they
were not going to sail away again on the San
Domingo, but had come to stay a while.

It isn't much of an Island, It's a little coral
reef, so small that if a man will stand up on a
soap box he can see almost all over it. It
grows nothing but [...], and now and then
a goat. Great Britain rules it at a great distance,
and by way of Jamaica. There are just
two policemen there, both black. Only two
dozen white folks llve there. The twenty filibusters
landed without baggage, and with
nothing to recommend them to the solitary
hotel keeper.

There was about the majority of them that
hard, unmistakable look peculiar to the New
York tough. Some of them were asked what
they wanted, what brought them so far away
from the Bowery.

"Oh. I kim out for me healt'," one of them
said. "I dunno," said most of them. If It had
been summer time a New Yorker on Turk's
Island might have thought that it was one of
those gangs of young men who join picnlc
parties uninvited and make things agreeable
that had mistaken the steamer for a picnic
barge and had got carried off.

They acted as if they really did not know
how long they were going to stay or what they
were going to do. There was only $11 cash
among them. Halliday, the leader, had that.
He also had what he seemed to suppose to be a
bill of exchange or letter of credit, signed Lord
& Austin. He tried to raise money on it from
one of the merchants, and was informed that it
wasn't what he thought It was, snd that it
wss not good for money.

One good thing about Turk's Island is that it
is warm there in February, and sleeping out of
doors is not prohibited by the two black policemen.
There are no orchards to rob or turnips
to steal. There is no game to shoot except a
tame goat or two. Rum can be had if
you can pay for it. What troubles the
Turk's Island folks most is that there is
$15,000 In specie in the Government House,
a little insecure building of coral rock.
There are no safe vaults for the treasure. No
Turk's Islander would dream of steallng it, but
almost any Turk's Islander would dream that
it wss In danger after gazing upon the filibusters
from New York. When the G. W. Clyde
sailed nobody had an idea how long the New
Yorkers intended to linger on Turk's Island.

----end

New York Sun, February 21, 1886, Page 1, Column 7

THE FILIBUSTERS NABBED.

ARE THE FOUTH WARDERS PRISONERS
ON THE CITY OF MEXICO?

Uncle Sam's Navy Captures that Piratical
Craft, and it is Just Possible that the San
Domingo's Passengers were Aboard

The capture of the filibustering steamship
City of Mexico by the United States man-of-war
Galena has revived interest in the Fourth
ward in the probable fate of its tough citizens,
who were last reported on Turk's Island,
awaiting a chance to join the filibusters on the
City of Mexico. According to Rear Admiral
Jouett's despatch from Aspinwall to the
Secretary of the Navy, the Galena is
now on her way to KeY West with
the City of Mexico as a prize. Consul Jacob
Baiz of Honduras says he thinks it is likely
that the martial Fourth warders were taken
aboard the City of Mexico on Sunday last. The
little brlgantine-rigged steel propeller Waikna,
filled with Gatling guns and loyal Honduranians,
has also been hunting for the filibustering
steamship, which is about seven times
as big aS the Waikna. Whether the little
propeller encountered the big boat and got licked
must be a matter of conjecture until the Galena
turns up.

The City of Mexico left this port on December
last with a dozen filibusters under Oen.
Delgardo. She stopped at Progreso to discharge
a cargo of corn, and sailed for Belize,
arriving there on Jan. 6. She took on twenty-seven
more men at Belize. and started for Bluefields,
on the Mosquito coast. The people there
refused to let the filibusters land, and the
steamship cruised along the coast. There is little
doubt that within the last ten days she fell in
with the Norwegian steamship Fram, and got
from her the ammunition and arms with which
the Fram was secretly loaded while she lay off
Staten Island on Feb. 5.

The City of Mexlco was owned originally by
the Alexander line. The Provincial Steamship
Company bought her. and. according to the
records of the Custom House, sold her on Dec
14 to Christian Barthold Hollander, a clerk
who mortgaged her for $30,000 (as much
as she was worth) to Shipping Agent
A. D. Straus. Mr. Siraus assigned the mortgage
to Ladislao Perea. a Cuban cigar
manufacturer of 124 East Fourteenth
street, just opposite the Academy of Music.
Mr. Perea refused yesterday to say anything
about the assignment of the mortage, otherwise
than it was a private business matter.
He is said to be of revolutionary tendencies,
and to be acquainted with ex-President
Soto, who is supposed to be the promoter of all
filibustering expeditions against Honduras,
and the present owner of the City of Mexico.
If the Fourth warders who sailed on the San
Domingo to join the City of Mexico really
succeeded in getting aboard her, much more
arduous work than pulling rubber may become
their lot. Sections S.2S3 and S.286. United
States Revised Statutes, may apply to their
case and the case of their distinguished chiefs:

Every person who, within the limits of the United
States, fits out and arms, or attempts, to fit out and arm,
or procures to be fitted out and armed, or knowingly is
concerned in the furnishing, fitting out, or armlng of
any vessel, with Intent that such vessel shall be
employed in the service of any foreign prince or
State, or of any colony. district, or people, to cruise
or commit hostilities against the subjects, cltizens, or
property of any foreign prlnce or State, or of any colony,
district, or people, with which the United States
are at peace, or who issues or delivers a commission
within the territory or jurisdiction of the United States,
for any vessel, to the intent that she may be so emploved,
shall be deemed guilty of a high misdemeanor,
and shall be fined not more than $10,000 and imprisoned
not more than three years.

Every person who within ihe territory or jurisdiction
of the united States, begins or sets out on foot, or provides
or prepares the means for, any military expedition or
enterprise, to be carried on from thence against the
territory or dominions of any foreign prince or state,
or of any colony, district, or people with whom the
United States are at peace, shall be deemed guilty of a
high misdemeanor, and shall be fined not exceeding
$3,000 and imprisoned not more than three years.

----end

New York Sun, March 9, 1886, Page 1, Column 5

Filibusters Straggle Back.

Picked Up on Turk's Island by the Fram--
Halliday One of Them

The little steamship Fram, which sailed
from New York on Feb 5 with Gatllng guns
and ammunition bound for San Andres, a
Nicaraguan Island, got back to this port at 9
o'clock yesterday morning. She had not succeeded
in conveying the arms to the filibusters
on the now captive City of Mexico. She brought
back with her as cabin passengers five of the
New Yorkers who went filibustering on the San
Domingo, were left on Turk's Island, and have
since been unable to upset the Government of
Honduras to oblige Mr. Marco Aurelio Soto of
Fifth avenue.

Seven of the gang were picked up by the
Fram at Turk's Island, where the steamer stopped
for a couple of hours on her way south.
The Fram didn't find the City of Mexico at San
Andres, and went to Kingston, Jamaica. where
she left two of the adventurers, Tommy Loftus
and David Wallace, the lover of Marion Ray.
She left the arms there. too, with the assistance
of the British Government, which had heard of
them before. The five filibusters who remained
on her were landed yesterday on Funch,
Edye & Co.'s pier foot of West Twenty-third
street wbere the Fram now lies.

THE SUN reporter could not get the list from
Capt. Berneldson or the agents. Aboard the
steamer Mate Peter Gunnison, who speaks a
little less Norwegian than the rest of the ship's
company, said that Tommy Loftus and David
Wallace were the two left at Kingston. The
mate had learned Wallace's name from reading
it in THE SUN at Kingston, and Tommy Loftus
was an old acquaintance. Loftus, the mate
said, shipped at Kingston on a brigantine
bound to Cape Haytien. Halliday was the only
name among the five filibusters that the Fram
brought back that the mate could remember.
He got to know Halliday because Halliday was
a sort of boss over the others. The filibusters,
be sald. occupied the cabin, and did not go
about with the crew, They did no work, and
none of them was a sailor man.

The filibusters who arrived on the Fram do
not belong in the Fourth ward. The boys who
left their homes there to descend on Honduras
are still missing. None of them has written
home. Halliday could not be found at any of
his old haunts in the ward last night. He is
not very popular there just now.

----end

[Mayerling]

A really fascinating find TradeName. Now I know why this story is totally unknown to written history or to me - it got nowhere fast in two months, with the party of filibusters ending up returning with nothing to show for all their efforts. I especially like how the dozen or so citizens of that island they landed on off Nicaragua did not know what to make or do about these Gringos from Brooklyn, and worried about the $15,000.00 in specie (coin) in a relatively unsecured shed. The Norwegian craft involved has an historic name, "Fram", which is the same name as the craft that in the 1890s would be used by polar explorer Frijold Nansen to make his historic "drift of the "Fram" along the coast of Greenland (1893 - 1896). The craft used by Nansen was later used by Roald Amundsen (with Nansen's permission) for the 1911 - 1912 Antarctic Expedition that beat the unfortunate Scott Party to the South Pole. It still exists as a museum in Norway to both explorers, but I don't think it is the craft involved in this fiasco.

Jeff