Decidedly Grim

Today’s Inexpressible Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

Henry Moore’s Complete Protestant Martyrology (1809) gives a horribly detailed account of the death of Dr. John Hooper, Lord Bishop of Gloucester, who was burned for heresy during the reign of the Catholic Mary I in 1555:

Being now in his shirt, he trussed it betweeen his legs, where he had a pound of gunpowder in a bladder, and under each arm the same quantity. He now went up to the stake, where three iron hoops were brought… The iron hoop was then put round his waist, which being made too short, he shrank and put in his belly with his hand; but when they offered to bind his neck and legs he refused them, saying, ‘I am well assured I shall not trouble you’ … Then the reeds were thrown up, and he received two bundles of them in his own hands, and put one under each arm.

Command was now given that the fire should be kindled; but, owing to the number of green faggots, it was some time before the flames set fire to the reeds. The wind being adverse, and the morning very cold, the flames blew from him, so that he was scarcely touched by the fire. Another fire was soon kindled of a more vehement nature: it was now the bladders of gunpowder exploded, but they proved of no service to the suffering prelate. He now prayed with a loud voice, ‘Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me; Lord Jesus, have mercy upon me; Lord Jesus, receive my spirit’: and these were the last words he was heard to utter.

But even when his face was completely black with the flames, and his tongue swelled so that he could not speak, yet his lips went till they were shrunk to the gums; and he knocked his breast with his hands until one of his arms fell off, and then continued knocking with the other while the fat, water, and blood dripped out at his finger ends. At length, by renewing of the fire, his strength was gone, and his hand fastened to the iron which was put round him. Soon after, the whole lower part of his body being consumed, he fell over the iron that bound him, into the fire… This holy martyr was more than three quarters of an hour consuming, the inexpressible anguish of which he endured… moving neither forwards, backwards, nor to any side: his nether parts were consumed and his bowels fell out some time before he expired.

Culled from: The History Of Torture

From which only one conclusion can be drawn: Jesus hated that guy.

Facts

So I was reading a news story today about a man in NYC who plunged 40 stories, landed atop a car, and survived. (Apparently, he survived thanks to the rosary beads in the car he landed on; he’s in critical condition so if he dies, I suppose we can blame his death on the rosary beads too?) Anyway, this story didn’t strike me as particularly factworthy, but it reminded me of one of my all-time favorite photographs: a famous Life magazine photograph of a woman who plunged to her death from the Empire State Building in the 40′s, landed atop a car, and managed to pull off the all-too-rare feat of making a stunningly beautiful corpse. I did a search and found that Salon.Com had done a story on the woman, entitled “The Most Beautiful Suicide”. Which brings me to…

Today’s Composed Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

The 102 story landmark, Empire State Building has been the launching pad for 31 successful suicides. Some say as many as 36 people have leaped to their death from the famed structure. The first suicide jumper fell to his death landing on the 86th floor soon after the building had opened. Sixteen more suicides occurred during the period of 1932 to 1947. In one suicide the body struck a pedestrian on the street below seriously injuring her. One 23-year old woman leaped from the building and her body struck a United Nations limousine below. The incident resulted in a famous Life Magazine photograph by Robert Wiles.

The photo ran a couple of weeks later in LIFE – magazine accompanied by the following caption and story:

At the bottom of the Empire State Building the body of Evelyn Mchale reposes calmly in a Grotesque Bier, Her Falling Body Punched Into the Top of a Car. On May Day, just after leaving her fiancé, 23-year-old Evelyn McHale wrote a note. ‘He is much better off without me … I wouldn’t make a good wife for anybody’ … Then she crossed it out. She went to the observation platform of the Empire State Building. Through the mist she gazed at the street, 86 floors below. Then she jumped. In her desperate determination she leaped clear of the setbacks and hit a United Nations limousine parked at the curb. Across the street photography student Robert Wiles heard an explosive crash. Just four minutes after Evelyn McHale’s death Wiles got this picture of death’s violence and its composure.

Culled from: Salon.Com

Facts

Aimee has a book recommendation for us:

You might enjoy a book by Jim Knifel called These Children Who Come At You With Knives. It’s very twisted fairy-tale type stories. The title of course is a Charlie Manson quote. The stories include ‘Six-Leggity Beasties’ about a rotten fat boy who finds himself plagued with a terrible cockroach infestation while his parents are off on vacation; ‘The Maggot in the Red Sombrero’ about a lonely and very poor old woman who makes friends with the title maggot; and ‘Stench the Crappy Snowman’ about a snowman made more out of mud and garbage than snow. Very funny, very warped.

These Children Who Come At You With Knives
by Jim Knifel

Library

As promised, I thought I’d give a review of one of my favorite recent reads, “Death In California” by David Kulczyk.

Death In California: The Bizarre, Freakish, and Just Curious Ways People Die in the Golden State
by David Kulczyk

This is another wonderful little dare-you-to-put-it-down anthology of Horrible Things that have happened in the Golden State. What I love most about David’s anthologies (his previous work was California Justice) is that many of the stories he writes about occurred in my old neck of the woods (Northern California near Chico), an area that isn’t often discussed in books. The fascinating but true stories he dredges up make me wonder why on earth I hadn’t done research of this variety myself when I lived there. How much more enriching would my trips to various destinations in the state have been if I’d known the morbid history that played out there? The answer: Much more enriching. Of course. As they will be the next time I visit them with Death In California in hand!

This particular volume is my favorite of his tomes, as it discusses a wide variety of interesting deaths from murderous drunken pioneers, wicked stepmothers, and doomed snake charmers to plane crashes, mysterious celebrity deaths, and toddlers trapped in wells. Some of the stories you will no doubt have heard before, though rarely told as well, but the best tales are the ones veiled in obscurity – like the Wheatland Hop Riot of August 3, 1913, where a labor dispute ended with three men dead and several injured. It was the second major labor dispute in United States history – and I’d never heard of it before.

Another highly fascinating tale is that of The Ape Boy, Gordon Stewart Northcott, who raped and murdered several boys at the Wineville Chicken Ranch in Los Angeles County. In fact, the photographs of Northcott that accompany the text are creepy enough all by themselves!

However, for me, the best part of the book comes early on, when David tells a story that is all too rarely voiced in California history: the plight of the Native Americans of the state, who had lived in peace and prosperity for thousands of years before they were hunted, double-crossed, enslaved, and impoverished by the invading pioneers. In fact, reading a few of the stories left me hungry to learn more about the atrocities. Perhaps the most disgusting was the poisoning of hundreds of Shasta Indians at a treaty-signing feast on November 4, 1851. Stories like this really put into perspective the horrible price paid for Manifest Destiny.

I sincerely hope David keeps up the good work. There are so many obscure tales just waiting for him to get out the shovel and exhume them. I’m looking forward to his next collection of esoteric morbidity!

Library

It’s always a rare occasion when I can feature a morbid fact that has personal significance to me and today’s fact is just such one occasion. I grew up in Butte County, California, and, as you might expect, frequented the cemeteries of the area. One of my favorites is Clear Creek Cemetery – a tiny pioneer-era graveyard along Clark Road just south of my hometown of Paradise. One of the gravestones in the cemetery has always intrigued me – a modern stone that commemorates the Lewis children, Jimmy and Johnny, with the inscription, “Killed by Mill Creek Indians”. I always wondered the full story of the 1863 murders and my friend, author David Kulczyk, satiated my curiosity by detailing the tale in his excellent 2009 tome, Death In California.

Today’s Notorious Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

The notorious Mill Creek Indians, led by a cruel, six-toed native called Bigfoot, began vicious attacks in the early summer of 1863; the most despicable was the abduction and subsequent murder of the Lewis children on July 5 or 6 of that year.

Sam Lewis owned a ranch near Dry Creek off Cherokee Road. His children – eleven-year-old Jimmy, nine-year-old Arenia, and six-year-old Johnny – left their school together, along with their teacher and a couple of other students. They parted ways at Littlefield Creek. Little Johnny wasn’t old enough to go to school, but Mrs. Lewis had allowed the little boy to go with his siblings that day.

Stopping for a drink of water, Jimmy was shot and fell face first into the water. Natives sprung out of the bushes and threw heavy rocks onto his lifeless body, while his sister and little brother trembled in fear.

A group of ten natives grabbed the surviving two children and headed for the hills, with Chief Bigfoot leading them. They forced the barefooted children to run through the rocky terrain, until they came to Nance Canyon, where they camped for the night. Arenia cuddled her little brother throughout the chilly night.

They left the camp early in the morning, and when Johnny started crying, four of the Mill Creek Indians took the little boy away and killed him. They rejoined the band, wearing his clothes.

After crossing several creeks, the band came across some of Captain Bidwell’s cattle. They killed one and ate strips of meat raw. After making moccasins from the cowhide, the natives were ready to start hiking again, taking much of the beef along with them, but only after two of the natives expressed their desire to tear Arenia’s two gold earrings out of her ear. The girl took the earrings out, causing the two natives to fight over who would get them. Arenia settled the matter by handing each of them an earring.

The native in charge of Arenia was crippled, and he was additionally encumbered by the stolen meat. He told the girl that he had been shot by a white man. The two lagged farther and farther behind the rest of the group and when they got to Big Chico Creek, Arenia asked if she could sit down. The lame native told her yes, but he told her he would shoot her if she moved off the boulder that she was sitting on. As soon as the natives were out of sight, Arenia rolled off the rock and scurried through the brush and down a creek. As she hid in the water, she could hear the natives looking for her. They eventually gave up and Arenia ran to the nearby Thomasson Ranch and safety.

After her ordeal, Arenia Lewis changed her name to Thankful. She lived to a ripe old age, marrying three times.

Culled from: Death In California by David Kulczyk

While I was back home visiting my family last February, I took an excursion to the cemetery with my Holga and took a shot of the Lewis grave. Unfortunately, the focus was off so the gravestone is not legible, but you can get a sense of the beautiful, lonely atmosphere of the cemetery, in any event. Next time I go back home, I’ll be sure to get a better shot of the grave.

Oh, and I’ll have a full review of Death In California tomorrow.

Facts

Today’s Questioning Yet Truly Morbid Fact!

Famous Last Words: On her deathbed in 1946, American writer Gertrude Stein asked, “What is the answer?” When no answer was given, she laughed and said, “In that case, what is the question?”

Culled from: Death: A History Of Man’s Obsessions and Fears

Facts

It looks like death by Niagara Falls is actually extremely popular. Well, damn. I’ll have scratch that off the potential suicide method list, then. The Comtesse doesn’t *do* popular. Sigh…

Suicide Season

Web

Fascinating artwork by The Chapman Brothers. I love “If Hitler Had Been A Hippy How Happy Would We Be” (under Exhibitions) which depicts all sorts of horrible yet imaginative tortures via dioramas laid out in the shape of a swastika. Provocative, to say the least.

The Chapman Brothers

Art

Street Anatomy is a fantastic blog. Mike (who sent me the link) describes it as: “Vintage medical illustration. Street art. Fashion. Jewelry. Interior design. More, More, More. All depicting, inspired or designed around parts of the human body in virtually any context and collected from around the world. Vigorously updated. Hell Yes.”

It’s fantastic – check it out!

Street Anatomy

Web

If the Comtesse were to ever do anything so vulgar as get married, this is the pillow she would have the rings resting on. Perhaps you might consider the same?

Available from Shabee Stitches.

Trinkets