Above the Fold
Wife Raffles Husband to Pay Debts
Here’s a story guaranteed to insert a frisson of unease in any male spouse’s heart.
Readers of the Aug. 31, 1920 edition of the Seattle Star would have discovered an offer that seemed almost too good to be true. In a letter to the paper, Lillian Russell, of Rockland, MA, announced a plan to sell her husband, Carl, in a raffle. The writer was forced to part with her spouse — thirty-four years old, but could pass for twenty-five — because she needed $100,000 to pay the family’s debts and to fund her daughter’s musical education.
Our daughter has a wonderful voice, wrote Mrs. Russell, but it was impossible to educate her on Carl’s income. Lillian believed that the money raised in a national raffle would ease the family’s financial burden. She intended to split the proceeds with her departing husband; the lucky winner would receive both Carl and a generous financial settlement. Raffle tickets would only be sold in the United States: “I was thinking of trying Paris, France,” wrote Russell, “but ‘America first’ is my motto.”
“I am quite certain,” continued the letter, “there are wealthy women who would be glad to buy a man of Mr. Russell’s type outright, as he has the personality and appearance of the most dignified gentleman, 5 feet 10 inches in height, weight 170 pounds; light hair, blue eyes, athletic; fine-looking; talented, and just the type that appeals to a woman.”
Mrs. Russell had originally planned to auction her husband, but then realized that this was unfair to women who lacked significant financial resources. A raffle, gave every bidder a chance to snag the prize. Wealthier women could purchase more raffle tickets, but no woman need fear being outbid.
“I will part with him for no other reason except to bring my children up as I desire and I feel that I am doing him an injury to keep him drudging and unable to live properly in the society he is adapted for.”
The prospect of separating from his wife did not appear to bother the complaisant Carl: “He is willing to go on lottery for a certain amount a chance.” Interested women were directed to contact the couple to make arrangements for entering the lottery: “Hoping you will not misconstrue or take this letter as a joke,” concluded Mrs. Russell.
The Quill
Slaves at Sea
I am pleased to announce that “Slaves at Sea,” my first feature article in American History Magazine, is now available on finer newsstands across the country.
Were American merchant seamen protected by the Thirteenth Amendment to the United States. Constitution? Or did sailors belong to a special class of workers, one that had fewer rights than the African American slaves who were freed in 1865? These questions were raised in 1895 when four sailors deserted the lumber schooner Arago, while the ship was loading in Knappton, WA. The police arrested the sailors in Astoria, OR, held them in the city jail until the Arago was ready to sail, and then returned the men to their ship in chains. When the deserters refused to work, the Arago returned to San Francisco, where Captain Perry charged them with mutiny.
Ultimately, this incident made its way to the Supreme Court, where the “enlightened” justices backed captains and shipowners by denying sailors the right to leave brutal workplaces. Ancient legal precedents supported the idea that sailors signed away the rights accorded to land-based workers and became slaves at sea.
At present this story is only available in its print version. Sometimes American History also publishes its stories on the web. If a version is made available, I will let you know in a future newsletter.
Comet Madness
I spent a good part of December tucking, trimming, and polishing the manuscript. It is off to the publisher in early January. We are still on schedule for a February 2023 release. More to come.
Regular Features
True Crime Files: The Minister’s Wife
Wednesday evening, Dec. 4, 1907, began unremarkably enough for Pastor Gilbert Gish. He spent the early hours at his evangelical church in Chambersburg, Illinois, preaching the gospel to a small, but enthusiastic crowd.
After the sermon, Pastor Gish walked homeward in the company of one of his parishioners, a Mr. Dennis. The pair stopped at the Dennis’ store for a short chat. The minister was, Mr. Dennis later reported, in excellent spirits. After their discussion, Gish strolled home alone.
About an hour later, Mr. Dennis was woken by someone beating a tattoo on his front door. Dolly Gish, the minister’s wife stood outside. Please help me, she begged, Pastor Gish was ill.
The pair hurried to the minister’s house. Reverend Gish lay convulsing on his study floor. His agony was so great that he was unable to speak. Dennis watched helplessly, Mrs. Gish at his side, as the life ebbed out of the minister’s body. The man’s tortured breaths grew farther apart; his spine relaxed; death folded cold arms around him and bore his spirit away. Click here to continue reading…
Via Romea Germanica XI: San Felice Nave, Italy, to Trento
It was raining, which raised the question: when do we become competition for Noah?
Another of life's questions: How many more stages will I begin with the words “it was raining?”
At least one more.
It was raining. The rain had stopped, momentarily, when we stepped out of our agriturismo this morning, but that was simply a temporary lull. The dominant story of today’s stage was near-constant rain, which ranged from a light drizzle to a steady downpour. As a general rule, rain is my favorite form of weather, but eleven days into this trip, even I, a confirmed lover of damp days, hoped for a break. Click here to continue reading…
The Oyster Burger Chronicles XI: The Oyster Catcher, Coupeville, WA.
The pandemic interrupted my ongoing quest for the world’s best oyster burger. For more than a year I have been unable to search small towns along the West Coast, categorizing, classifying, and ranking purveyors of this sublime dish. Plans to add the East Coast, from Boston to Novia Scotia, were brutally terminated when the virus shut down travel, but now I am vaxed up and ready to roll. An entire continent of oyster burgers stands before me. Click here to continue reading…
Today ushers in the new year with its new opportunities. May you have a prosperous and peaceful 2022, and I will be back with a fresh installment of What’s New in Old News on Feb. 1.