The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1897-05-02
TWO ILL-STARRED BOWNES
THE FITHER'S SUICIDE RECdLLrD
By THE SONS WRETCHED ESD

matte way Tho Family. Misfortune,
Twenty odd years ago a gentleman came into
THE Sun Office one afternoon and requested ,he
city editor TO send a reporter with him to staten
Island. There, he said, he would " dictate ,
startling story that would give the strongest
evidence in support Of the old saying TINT truth
was stranger than fiction" That gentleman wal.
cx.Congrcssman Obadiah Bovine, father of An.
drew Bovine, tho panhandler whose death the
other night in the gutter in tho Bowcry closed
the last chapter in the history OF a singularly
unfortunate family.
A reporter was detailed for the work. ne
went with the ex-ConRressman to the ferry. On
board tho Staten Island boat Mr.. BOVINE wns
Immediately recognized by several of his friends.
He chattcd with them pleasantly on the trip
across tho bay. At Vanderbilt Landing. as tho
Clifton station was then called. Mr.. Bovine bado
farewell to his friends, went ashore with the no.
porter and. after waiting some little time,
boarded the train for Court House station, now
lakewood. In the railroad car he began to speak
in rather n loud tone; but his language
was always correct and sometimes cle-
CANT. He startled some of the women pas.
sengcrs in the car with the tragic an.
nouncement that he would be n dead
man the next day. As the train was approach.
ing Court House station he became more cool
and collected. He and the reporter were tho
only passengers who got of at that place. They
proceeded to walk along the then beautiful
little shady road leading to Richmond, and
chattc1 pleasantly on tho way until they
reached the historic old inn or halfway house
that was once the property Of Commodore Van.
derbilt. There they had some refreshments,
after which they continued their journey. About
half a mile beyond the hotel Mr.. Bovine stopped,
and, pointing to a time-worn and wcatherbeaten
49, Il I-f HAIL Ia -,
to the reporter:
You have doubtless heard Of the story OF the
preacher who said on hearing Of the murder Of
President Lincoln that nothing else could 10
expected to happen to a man who would 20 20 a
theatre on Good Friday. Well. no preacher
ever made that remark. II was made to me by a
man who lived in that house at the time. ] was
riding along this road. and stopping, as stop
now, In front OF that old shanty, called the farm.
err out and told him that the President had
been assasslnated the night before. He looked
startled at first. then hung down his head and
shook 1t up and down two or three times.
Wal, wal said he. that comes from people
going to theatres on Good friday
Now there is the spot where the story came
from: You can put that in THE SUS II you like"
A little ), further along II the road Mr.; Bovine
right-hand side. Pointing to it he said:
There, is the house that used to be my old
home. i have come here with the sole purpose
OF bidding that dear old spot q last farewell
Tears streamed down his checks. but he brushed
tnc" away qulChis ALI LII % lew HlOLueuts was
On arriving at Richmond the two travellers
ttoric old hotel. as history goes On staten Island,
at that time kept by Oliver Hodges, now long
dead, There is nothing left Of it now. On its
site stands the building of the Kings Daughters.
In the barroom Mr.. Bovine was greeted by sew.
eral friends, most of them apparently men Of
little amusing anecdotes. Then he asked the
landlord to prepare a room and have in it a table
When. everything was ready the landlord con.
Quoted Mr.. Bovine and the reporter to the room.
Mr.; spH ,bS, % ordered Rdu drink mi,b The So T Es;1 ,o n ssg.
pone the drinks until after the story.
Q no." said he. Il can stand a great deal
and n, * keep my head perfectly clear. But let US
He sat down. at the table. buried his face in
There was nothing remarkable in it. except
perhaps the statement that he had remarked his
through a little wilderness ssI OF Words af he s seRHf'eF
II give il up. l find l can't collect my
. 1ho}S Ts;e T Ths{ are sa Tnsains so nPSg1 me cat, At such ,s.Ss
should attempt it. What matter, anyhow! To-
morrow that obediah BOVINE dies because paef thers
is no more room for him in this world T.
The reporter, although by no means taking
the words seriously. endcavored TO cheer him
up. and told him that after a good sleep all his
S,SSni' ri sa0 IN the morn @ornin TS fresh f9sPei, snd f hspp No
Then they both touched glasses and drank. Nj.
Bowne erasped II suN mans hand. SHOOK II
heartily and in a solemn voice bade him fare
well. Under the impression that the man. was
somewhat under the influence OF drink and was
turned to the bar, and to the men ]asscmb!ed
there repeated what Mr.. Bovine had said up
all smiled, and one of them. a tall fne-lookinE
man with a long red beard. burst out Laughing
habit of talking that way for twenty years. -
the reporter left, and, refusing the carriage
which Mr.. Bovine had engaged for him. returned
TO Clifton on foot. thoroughly convinced that lie
had been sent upon a FOOLS GRAND.
The next morning in THE SCN office the city
The reporter told him.
Jus! as suspected" said the editor. and
had only killed himself it would Change the COM
plexiou of the whole thing"
Fifteen minutes afterward he rushed over 10
the reporter with a despatch in his hand. an
nourcing that Mr.: Obadiah Bovine was dead,
that his body Ind been found partially dressed
the hotel in Richmond, and that an empty hot.
lie that evidently had contained laudanu;n was
porter was Instantly despatched TO Richmond 10
on taking his last sleep. the deceased had upSon.
that Of Chatterton in the famous picture,
The suicide of Mr.. Bovine was due SIMPLY 20
the fact that he was unable 10 bear up against
the complete ruin of his once colossal fortune.
and did not care to begin the world again, AL
apparently less than % years old. lie is s%ti!lrc.
membered by the old fellows of the islann. 80;
$50 $4,000 80 -
Rev. DIR. More was its pastor.
John and Andrew Bovine, the two sons OF INC
suicide. were always wild fellows. They had
race horses and lived at n rapid rate: hut they
were good natured and generous 10 a iault. They
went down hill rapidly. and shortly after their
fathers death they were pennies.
Years rolled on and the Bowncs on staten
Island were almost forgotten, when one evening
Il tramp came into tho town. OF Richmond ana
entered the saloon kept by Pat Curry, a poll
tician OF considerable prominence and aesr",.
sivoness in days gone by. In spitcof the irAmps
rags and sunburnt face he still had the air. Of .
gentleman. He was n handsome fellow wiih!a!.
Curry Immediately recognized him. II WAS IN.
drew Bovine. The warm-hcartcd old freshman
almost bounded over the bar and grnspcd mo
tramp's hand, while tho tears started t. MS
eyes. Naturally he at first invited him 10 have
n drink, but Mr.. BOVINE said that he had a tTrnd
outside who wanted a drink worse than he dI"' !
Bring him ill.,. said Curry.
Andrew Bovine brought in anothcr ,rhn!Hi
who was a stranger TO Curry. The old noe!
man gave them all the Refreshments that ,hty
needed. and also some money, and sent mem
upon their road happy ms two butterflies. mat
was the last that was heard OF the Bovine broth
trs In Richmond until the death of Andre" 70
the Bowery on Monday night last and the aTress
OF the man who killed him.