What's New in Old News?
What's New in Old News?
The official newsletter of the Peripatetic Historian. January 2023, Vol. 2, no. 8.
Happy New Year From Venice
Venice is the perfect Christmas present. A bit difficult to wrap, too large for a stocking, but always guaranteed to place a smile on my face.
And so, as the new year breaks, I am writing to you from the best place on the face of our planet. I lack an adequate number of fingers to tally the number of times I have visited this city, but I can assure you that the enchantment never fades. After a busy autumn in Palestine, Mary and I have traveled to Venice to relax for a fortnight, recharging before plunging into a hectic spring.
The calendar for the first six months of 2023 fills rapidly: new countries to explore, new cities to visit, new friends to make. And then there is the mysterious question mark that hangs over the end of summer. Where will we be at this time next year?
Perhaps Venice.
This Month:
The year’s first installment of What’s New in Old News is filled with exciting content. Here you will find:
A wedding grifter meets his match in Chicago
Comet Madness update
Dispatches from Jordan, northern Palestine, and Bethlehem in the Peripatetic Blog
Let’s get started…
A Widow’s Pursuit
February 4, 1908, a day that Yetta Wegmann would never forget.
She and her parents had spent the day hanging wedding decorations in their small family home on Chicago’s West side. By early evening, the guests were beginning to arrive for the ceremony, scheduled for an 8:00 p.m. start. As the appointed time approached, Yetta grew nervous. Her future husband, Joseph Weinberg, had yet to appear.
Distressing news arrived in lieu of the missing groom: Weinberg had been arrested. Acting upon a complaint lodged by Fanny Lewis, a wealthy Chicago widow, police officers had snatched Weinberg on the way to his nuptials. He now breathed the air of close confinement, awaiting a hearing before a judge.
A short letter quickly followed this ill-starred news. “My beloved Yetta,” wrote the prisoner, “I, loving you more than I can write, send you this letter asking you to come to the Maxwell Street police station immediately to become my bride. The captain and inspector and officers here have made all the arrangements for the wedding, and if you love me as dearly as you say, it will be but a short time until you are my wife.”
Such a romantic overture, a jail house joining. What woman could resist?
Yetta, apparently. Her love might have weathered the humiliation of a postponed ceremony, but her interest waned when reporters uncovered the story that prompted Weinberg’s arrest. The complainant, Mrs. Fanny Lewis, had quite a tale of her own.
After her husband’s death, Lewis, forty-five and modestly wealthy, was left alone in Chicago. When Weinberg, twenty-one years her junior, learned of this, he began a campaign to win the older woman’s heart—and money. His style of wooing favored persistence. “Right after my husband died,” Fanny told reporters, “he would sit outside the door of my home and every time he would see me, he would say ‘I love you.’”
How can you love someone so much older than yourself? Fanny asked her juvenile suitor.
“I don’t care how old you are,” replied Weinberg. “If you don’t marry me, I will die of love.”
The young man’s refusal to accept rejection overcame her reluctance. “I just couldn’t bear to see that boy suffer so,” said Fanny.
The pair traveled to New York and checked into the Waldorf Astor Hotel. Weinberg gave her a license which, he claimed, certified that they were married. This was, he told her, the American way of getting married. He soon left her alone in the hotel room, claiming that he needed to arrange the transport of her trunks to their bridal suite.
That was the last time she saw him. Weinberg, her trunks, and the money she had secreted in her luggage vanished.
Her wedding certificate, upon further examination, turned out to be a dog license.
No account of Fanny’s movements after this terrible blow survives, but one point remains eminently clear—she timed her revenge perfectly, having the deceitful young man arrested two hours before his wedding.
She sat serenely in the police station as waiting for the younger man to realize his legal peril and fulfill his previously-contracted obligations. Weinberg was unrepentant, and uninterested in a life with the older woman. “I won’t marry anyone but Miss Wegmann,” he told the police. He had convinced himself that if his betrothed appeared and married him at the police station, Fanny would see the hopelessness of her position and drop the charges.
That strategy required the support of his fiancee. Unfortunately, Miss Wegmann was disinclined to play her part. Her fiancee’s torrid past—aired on the front pages of Chicago’s newspapers—had dissolved the bond that once united their hearts.
“I will not be married in any jail,” announced Yetta. “If the man I am to marry cannot keep his wedding engagement, when all my friends are waiting for him, then I’ll die a single woman. I won’t marry him until he gets out; perhaps not then.”
Yetta refused to rescue Joseph Weinberg.
Two days after his arrest, Weinberg appeared before Municipal Judge Himes. When the complainant was asked about her intentions, Fanny issued an ultimatum: “It is the penitentiary or me.”
What he had once sought so diligently now, inexplicably, sought him. Realizing which course held the most peril, Weinberg announced his decision: “The jail.” Incarceration was preferable to Fanny’s resolved infatuation.
Judge Himes sent Weinberg to the county jail; Fanny Lewis failed to land her man. Nor did Yetta Wegmann—jilted once before the altar, she married a Mr. Max Schwartz in 1910.
Comet Madness Update
Forty-five days remain before the U.S. launch of Comet Madness (international readers will have to wait until April 15). Although I am still waiting for a full publicity schedule from my publisher, a couple of speaking engagements are now inked on my calendar:
Feb. 16, 2023 — Mark Twain House and Museum, Hartford, CT. Virtual lecture, 12:00 p.m. EST. See next month’s newsletter for the link.
Feb. 28, 2023 — Museum of Transport, Belfast, North Ireland. In person lecture, TBD.
I will also be discussing the book on a couple of podcasts, but tape and air dates have yet to be established. Tune in next month for further details.
The Latest from the Peripatetic Blog
From Amman to Bethlehem, the Peripatetic Historian continues to crawl across the Holy Land. Catch up with the latest adventures by clicking this handy link to the blog main page, or tap one of the links to the individual episodes below:
Recent Blog Posts
PeriBlog XIX: The Waltz of Civilizations. Our journey through Jordan ends in Amman, where we visit the Citadel and the archaeological remains of several ancient civilizations.
PeriBlog XX: The Miracle of the Ten Lepers. Did Jesus heal the ten lepers in Burqin, Palestine? The Peripatetic Historian drops by to investigate.
PeriBlog XXI: The March of the Patriarch. Ten thousand Texan tourists, a patriarchal procession, and the Peripatetic Historian spend Christmas in Bethlehem.
Closing Thoughts
It has been an extraordinary year, full of upheaval, new adventures, changes in career and continents. I don’t expect 2023 to be any more settled. Thanks for spending 2022 with me, and I hope all the best for you in the months ahead.
Be safe, be sensible,
