Above the Fold
Husband Raffle Foiled
Is there anything worse than an unfinished story? Last month (What’s New in Old News, 2.1), I drove you right up to the cliff-(hanger) and then left the story flapping over the precipice. What, you might have wondered, happened to Lillian Russell and her plan to raffle her husband Carl to raise money for her daughter’s music lessons?
Our story concludes:
By late August, 1920, according to a report in the Buffalo Courier, there had been a national outpouring of interest in Mrs. Russell’s offer. “Women everywhere are sending their money for tickets or ‘chances’ without bothering to enquire further into the virtues of the bargain husband.”
Miss Bertell Robins represented a more discerning purchaser. The New York maiden wrote, “A number of my friends and myself are very interested in your case. What we would like to know is something more about his character and also what kind of husband he makes—whether he pays much attention to his home, wife, and children.”
“I would very much appreciate it if you would be good enough to send me a picture of him,” continued Miss Robins. “Should I receive a reply from you, I will try my utmost to get all my friends to purchase tickets.”
It appeared that the raffle was going to be a fabulous success. Lillian would earn a tidy sum to support her daughter’s musical education; Carl would be dispatched to a new wife and home.
And then the law intervened. Judge Jean Norris, a magistrate in New York’s Women’s Day Court, told reporters: “As for anyone who would be a party to a raffling off or auctioning off a husband, well, I should say that that person should be put into the hands of a psychiatrist for observation.”
“That sort of thing is making a jest of the very foundation of society, of motherhood, of fatherhood,” pontificated Judge Norris. “What sort of bargain is this husband? His picture indicates an easy-going fellow who performs on musical instruments. This ‘talent’ according to his wife, will make him a catch for some wealthy woman who wants a parlor attraction to while away her spare time.”
Other commentators disagreed with the judge’s myopic critique. Barbara Craydon, a syndicated columnist, noted that the case raised a fascinating issue: who owned whom in a marriage? English Common Law suggested that the husband was the master. Craydon cited the opinion of Sir Henry McCardle, who affirmed that “a wife is absolutely and unqualifiedly the property of her husband.” That is why adulterers, who lured women from the family hearth, were required to pay the offended husband compensation when the matter reached divorce court.
But did the same principle hold true in the United States? Craydon was dubious: “While Carleton Russell, shoe worker, properly supported his wife and family, his wife evinced no desire, of record at least, to rid herself of him, either by auction block or lottery. But when his wage fell below the demand on the purse, she decided on taking advantage of his possible commercial worth as a way out of the property that grimly held her.”
That alone should put men on their best behavior.
Despite the interesting questions raised by the husband raffle, Carleton doggedly refused to share his thoughts with the press. “Russell says nothing,” wrote Craydon. “Whatever of self-accusation or indignation may be in his mind, he is silent. Who shall say that a man who can keep silent under such circumstances has not shown qualities that ought to make him a desirable husband?”
No Sale
Unfortunately, the theoretical does not appear to have received a practical test. In September 1920, newspapers reported that Louise Russell’s ingenious scheme had run aground on a judicial reef. Local authorities asserted that a husband raffle was against the law. “We have done nothing about the lottery,” she said, “because we have been told that it would be illegal.”
The raffle’s illegality did nothing to diminish interest. According to Mrs. Russell, bids for Carl, were arriving “by pecks and bushels.” More than a thousand letters from women intrigued by the prospect of winning the elegant husband had arrived since Mrs. Russell announced her scheme.
Carl now spent his days opening letters and reading their contents. Watching her husband diligently sorting the letters, Mrs. Russell expressed admiration for her spouse: “I think he is making a great sacrifice to educate the children.”
Ever the optimist, Louise was exploring other avenues. “I hope that our purpose might be accomplished by a private sale,” she told reporters. “Perhaps it will.”
Although the newspapers lost interest in the story and the couple dropped from the pages of the national press, it is safe to assume that the sale never happened. State records indicate that Carleton and Louise remained married until his death in 1950. Not only did they remain together, but they had two more children—Joseph and Virginia—after the failed raffle attempt.
Absent a legal test, it remains an open question: can a wife sell her husband?
The Quill
Slavery at Sea
Last month I announced that a new article, Slavery at Sea, had appeared in the February issue of American History. If you are confused by my use of a past tense verb to describe a future event (how did an article come out in a magazine slated for a month that has yet arrive), well, this is just another of those time-travelling, spatially-disorienting paradoxes that we routinely encounter here at What’s New in Old News. For reasons that still mystify me, the February issue of American History actually hits subscriber mailboxes and magazine stands in mid-December. Readers sign a pledge to abstain from reading the issue until two months after it arrives.
In mid-January, my article appeared on the publisher’s website. Therefore, if you don’t subscribe to American History, haven’t sworn not to peek early, but still want to read the article, you can find it by clicking this link.
Comet Madness Countdown
Speaking of warps in the space-time continuum, my new book, Comet Madness, is one year from its scheduled release date. A year before the May 1910 return of Halley’s Comet, the nation’s newspapers already had the kettle churning at a gentle simmer. The Baltimore Sun (May 2, 1909), ran a half-page feature story on the approaching comet that touched on a few themes certain to disquiet readers: would the comet strike the earth? Would earth’s inhabitants be poisoned by its tail?
Astronomer E. Ledger offered reassurance: “Once the thought of a comet striking the earth was one which stirred fear in the hearts of the bravest men. The appearance of a comet in the heavens sent men groveling abjectly to the earth.
“But nowadays men talk quite calmly of the chances of a comet striking the earth, and they can discuss without undue tremors the probable results of such a collision.”
In the cold depths of space a comet approaches, drawing Comet Madness in its wake.
Regular Features
True Crime Files: The Stenographic Murderer
Young Ruth Wheeler was ambitious. Fifteen years old, the youngest of three sisters, she was determined to contribute to the support of her widowed mother. The family was stretched as tight as worsted wool on a spinning wheel. Money walked in the front door of their shared apartment, grew wings, and flew out the window. Ruth dreamed of changing her struggling New York city family’s fortune. Click here to continue reading…
Via Romea Germanica XII: Trento, Italy
When the Romans expanded into the northern end of the Italian peninsula, they founded a city here and named it after Neptune, god of the sea. Although a fair distance from the nearest coast, Tridentium (modern day Trento), is a marvelous town. It is also a good place for weary hikers to take a rest day. Click here to explore the wonders of Trento with your Via Romea Germanica expeditionary team…
Oyster Burger Chronicles XII: The Old Edison Inn, Edison, WA
When it comes to oyster burgers, the northern waters of Puget Sound, just short of the Canadian border, represent an undiscovered country for me. Fortunately, an opportunity to linger in the area has enabled me to file a report on the state of the northern oyster: All is well. Click here to continue reading…
I devoted more time than I intended in early January to polishing my Author’s Website (www.richardjgoodrich.com). Should these newsletters come too slowly, you can always find breaking news and fresh stories there.
Brutally cold weather is in the forecast as we draw back February’s curtain. I can’t say that I am enjoying my last winter in Spokane, but there is a definite charm in the knowledge that this is my last winter in Spokane.
Keep warm. Be safe, be sensible, and I’ll be back with another newsletter in March.