npedrazzini/19thc_murder_suicide_news huggingface dataset:
The Weekly Journal. — 1903-10-23 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

OBER 23. 1903 i  post box, and it was thus that you go: I.:,dy Thorns'."  The murder 1/118 out; and at last be bezi-d the sound of her voice.  " And you encouraged themr He had thought that any form of auci:o meet be preferable to her silence, yet how Le wished it back.  " And you encouraged them?" " I gave them half-a-crown apiece to go on doing it. I thought it such a good joke.' His head sank wretchedly on his breast as he ended. How horribly pointless, and even blackguard, now appeared the piece of mischief, that in conception had looked so lanecently humourous. Again silen:c. "I hardly dare ask you to forgive us: of course, it must seem impossible to you at this first moment of bearing. "I had heard of it already." The thought Bashed across him that che tad half-avenged herself by not saving him the wriggling ignominy of his confession, as this acknowledgment showed him she might have done. " You had?"  " Ladyitaity Stainer thought it bett:Pr t! comntunie.ate it to Lady Thorns, who toid it to  This then, was the explanation of the tear!mitre] apparition of Marietta, ifi.n tbrotigh the tvongliam window. "Been here?" cried •Clanbally, with Celtic effusiveness. "I felt sure that she would eomo. After all, I know that her heart was in the right place!" Mrs. Baddeley mad° no reply, but a look on her delicate, austere face, a tighter compression of her pale lips, told him more eloquently than any river of objurgatory words could, how littlo due to any otoellenca of the organ he Werred to how entirely under filial compulsion, had been the amends offered by his exlove.  "We do not know how to thank you for having granted us this interview—do we, boys? —this opportunity for expressing our heartfelt repentance--heartfelt, isn't it, boys'—and if we could only go away feelim that we had not dono you an Irremediable injury, that our wretched practical job o had not cost you," he broke off, having involuntarily stopped much nearer to her, BO much nearer that he could seo plainer than ever before the havoc in hoc face, the tragedy in her worn oyes. She took up his word. " It cost me," she said, "the bitterest halfhour of a bitter life!" Then, seeing hie start of dismay and, mollified perhaps by the tears that had sprung to his eyes, she added more gently, "But it is over; and I fIPO that you meant no harm, only, if I were you "—her look embraced the guilty three—" in future, if I could not hit on better ones than this, I think I would give up making jokes at all." They crawled away, down the stairs of the house; whence at their entrance the two young people had blundered out. Upon the trembling band the sound of happy, light love laughter reached their ears. It was the only part of tho affair on which Clanbally could ever afterwards think with comfort.  (Tho End).
The Weekly Journal. — 1903-02-20 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

GUY SOOTHBY. Author of "The Mai-ridge ot Eoher," " A Bid for Fortune." "Dr. Nikola," etc.).  For two reasons I am particularly anxious that you should like this story. First because the telling has cost me a considerable amount of labour, and secondly her ausc- pOcing as benetaetor of the human race, I ar• desirous of furnishing you with an opportunity ot appropriating the gold mounted. extra iJiished, opal tinted moral it contain,. Thn slid moral is warranted to stand good up to any age and in any climate. It was in a most unseemly hioov hat I find made John Farmer's aceptaintenc,.. We were fellow sojourners at the time on an island in the Pacific an island tamed for i's wealth as well 35 for the varied nationalities and colours of its inhabitants. I am prepared to admit that the ways and customs which prevail there are most primitive, hut RR that primitiveness is based on the rock of natural eap,tal. by which I mean gold, pearls, shell, sandalwood, and be.-he-de-iner, we can look forward to the day when her population will enrich themselves with the advantages of virtue and education. John Farmer, aged fifty-three, was the bellman. It was his duty to announce the arrival and departure oi schooners, mail Ocamers. 111i20,10Wilit'A, the latest murder or sudden, death, weddings itchieh were few). and funerals (which were many). and indeed, any other news he might consider of interest to society at large. Needless to ray he was very eccentric, and, what was more remarkable in such a community, an individual who might be relied upon to reach his home, however satisfactory the amusement of the .'venue, might have been.  It ix worthy of mention here that big reeldeuce conaixted of a small thatched hat, %Anated on the ontakirta of the ttettlement. Here he dwelt. year in and year out ac I always thought ,tometimes pennilea•--tometimea with jout enough to keep body and hold together, and immetimes rich to the extent of many bottlea. He had not a friend (for apart from hia profetaional dutieti he wag a taciturn maa) yet to balance matters. be certainly had no enemies.  I am wrong. however, in soying that he was without a friend. He possessed one, and that one was hM eonstant companion, by day and night : a miserable half-heed terrier for which he entertained an affection, u eaduriag as it waa undemonstrative.  Early on the day that I made his acquaintance I CRITIC to the conclusion that I would rid myself of my beard. preparatory In embarking on board the good ship Wollomhong, to meet 8431111 C friends from Europe. She was expected at any moment, sind it may have been vanity, though I do not admit it. that made me desirous of presenting as smart an appearance as possible when I should net foot on board. With dire forebodings as to the agony I should presently undergo. for I knew my man of old, 1 made my way down the dusty main street, passed Johnny All Fook's boat-building yard, passed Honolulu Peten Gambling Shop, and so on until I reached a building, to the verandah of which wag affixed this carious sign:—
The Weekly Journal. — 1903-05-08 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

CHAFFER 1.-THE CHILD OF THE RECLUSE.  your Tire. I give no reason for this decision,' but as an honest man I ask you to believe ine when I say before God, and to you, that it will be best for Helen and you never to meet again, and I ask you, as a gentleman, never to approach her in any =niner or seek to pry into the cause of this change. "I 1 respect for you remains undiminished, and I hope, despite the blow I have been forced to strike you, that you may still think as a friend ot  On the western slopes of Bea Shalloch, not far from the mountain's foot. a young man was standing gazing seaward, and enjoying the beauty of the seeue spread out before him. Below, almost at his feet, Is; Ardnamarchan Point. wild and rugged, and crowned by its tall lighthouse: beyond that wa.s a wide et blue wherein were set the dark masses o7;11e I'ts isle-s of Coll and Muck. The young man standing there had no quarrel with the world. His name was Paul Methuen; he was handsome, rich, young, famous, and without any burdens. Ills fame and wealth had CAMP to him unexpectedly. after some bitter strunles, and were all the more acceptable on that account. Standing there, surrounded by that irtriking scenery. the young fellow's mind was suddenly strangely filled with thoughts of his dead parents. He thought again of his father's sudden death--struck down by an unknown hand---of the vow be had made to his mother t 3 drag his father's murderer from his hiding place mime day. Why had his parent been slain? Who war; his slayer? Now that he possessed both money and leisure should he devote himself to the task nf vengeance he had worn to fulfil. Suddenly Paul's heart leapt to his throat. and a cry of terror flew from hie. lips. He felt the ground beneath him slip; then he fell , 1 crashing among the gorse and heather on the plateau below, and when he recovered coo. seiortanese again—some ten minutes afterwards —he found 3 great-limbed, white-bearded man kneeling beside him. " What's the matter? What has happened" Paul asked. weakly, as he vainly essayed to it le to • sitting posture. r:r was down in the valley when I saw you tall. Don't try to rise; I fear yen are badly kart. My house is the only one near at hand. I will carry you there." Paul did sot respond. Again he had become oblivious. Without delay the brawny old fellow raised the slender figure in his arms. and carried him to his house. As they crossed the threshold they were met by a slim. dark-faced k girl, of wondrous beauty, and just then the injured man opened his eyes, to let them fall 1 wonderingly on the woman who was making harried and anxious inquiries of her father. Her great dark eyes met noire brown ones for a moment; he noted that her short, fall, red lips were quivering as in the tenderest pity. and then with a half-sob of joy and pain lw lost touch of sense again.  " Hugh Campbell."  No words can expresa Pant Siethueni AM
The Weekly Journal. — 1903-10-02 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

STORY OF EUGENE ARAM.  THE POEM FOUNDED ON FACT.  In the popular mind a oertaia darkness aid mystery surrounds Hoods marvellous poem, The Dream of Eugene Aram." Some ask curiously if Eugene Aram was a creature of fact or of fiction—if the story which the poet tells is romance or reality? The circumstances are so extraordinary that people wonder if the poem is nut exactly what it says it is—a dream, a creation of the poetic imagination, or if it is really the record of a murderer and hie crime. And, if it is neither of these, neither pure fact nor pure fiction, but a bleeding of both, they naturally enough would like to know where the one begins and the other ends, and in what proportions the two ingredients are mingled together. Then "The Dream of Eugene Aram " Hood has written no finer poem. It stands on the same literary level as the "Song of the ehirt " and the "Bridge of Sighs." Its subject-matter, however, is of much deeper and ' more profound ethical import. In these poems women is represented under the heel of a regardless society, which first enslaves her, then degrades her, and finally hurries her to destruction. They were of immense service, and , achieved a notable success. On the other hand, "The Dream of Eugene Aram" cannot be said I to aim at the attainment of any social or political result or reform. It illustrates the power of science, the misery which is the sure attendant of transgression. the doom which pursues and overwhelms the Frailty and the I ainful. It is Shakespearnan in its artful blending of light and shade, in its tenderness, its , pathos, and its trngedy. The schoolmaster, full of the ripest erudition, envying the scholars he taugid, and the association of the guilty , usher with the innocent boy, are conceptions of the highest power. The poem is a miniature Macbeth "--the story of a fearful crime, and conscience afterwards awakening in the heart of the perpetrator like an armed man. While Lady Macbeth found that "all the perfumes of Arabia would not sweeten her little. hand," Eugene Aram discovered that his " grew raging hot, like Crantuer's at the stake." Be plunged the body of his victim in a deep pool, he hid it far in a great forest, be buried it in a dark cave, but for all his industry be could not Lad it a sure hiding-place. The truth flashed upon  "Then down he mist him on hi face, And first heran to weep, For he knew ha bccret then was one That earth refused to keep. Or land, or sea, though he might he ten thonsand fathoms deep." •  It is an awful story. Pure enough, but all the same the English language contains nothing of a Fimilar lrngth of deeper moral import or rarer ethical excellence. And such being the ease, we seed not wonder that it should be the favourite recitation of the great actor Sir Henry Irvine.
The Weekly Journal. — 1903-12-18 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

THE WEEKLY JOURNAL FRIDAY DECEMBER 18. 1903.  nace, and Brian is staring at me with his eyes like lane china saucers. You ought both to be turned forth to funerals like melancholy." " Why like melancholy?" queried Brian, lazily. "I'm afraid, Mr Fitzgerald," said the young lady with a smile in her pretty black eyes. "that you are not • student of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream." 'Very Nicely not," answered Brian; "midsummer out here is so hot that one gets no sleep, and, consequently, no dreams. -Depend upon it, if the four lovers whom Puck treated so badly bad lived in Australia they wouldn't have been able to sleep for the mosquitoes." "What nonsense you two young people do talk," said Mr Frettlby, with an amused smile, as be stirred his tea.  " Dalce eat desipere in loco," observed Brian, gravely. " A man who can't carry out that observation is sure not to be up to much. "1 dual like Latin," said Miss Frettlby, shaking her pretty head. '• I agree with Heine's remark that if the Romans had been forced to learn it they would not have found time to conquer the world." '• Which was a much more agreeable task," said Brian.  "And more profitable." finished Mr Frettlby. They chattered in this desultory fashion for a considerable time, till at last Madge rose and said they must go. Brian propesed to dine with them at St. Kilda, and then they would all go to see the fireworks. Madge consented to this, and she was just pulling on her gloves when suddenly they heard a ring at the front door, and presently Mrs Sampson talking in an excited manner._  "You shan't come in, I tell you," they heard her say, shrilly, " so it's no good trying, which I've shays 'card as an Englishman s 'wise is 'is castle, an' you're is-breakin' the law, as well as a-spilin' the carpets, which 'as bin newly put down.  Someone made a repTf,' then the door of Brian's room was thrown open, and Gorby walked in, followed by another man. Fitzgerald turned lid white ..s a sheet, for he felt instinctively that they had come for him. However, pulling hiiimelf together, he demanded, in a haughty tune, the reason of the intrusion.  Mt Gorby walked 6traight over to where Brian was standing, and placed his hand on the young man's shoulder. "Brian Fitzgerald," he said, in a clear yoke, " I arrest you in the Queen's name." For what?" asked Brian, steadily. . .  "The murder of Oliver Vi byte." At this Madge gave a cry. "it is not true' " she said, wildly. "By Heaven, it's not true!" Brian did not answer, but, ghastly pale, held out his hands. Gorby slipped the handcuffs on to his wrists with a feeling of compunction, despite his joy in running his man down. This done, Fitzgerald turned round to where Madge was standing, pale and still, as though turned into stone. .  "Madge." he said, in a clear, low voice, "I um going to prison—perhaps to death; but I swear to you, by all that I hold most sacred, that I am innocent of this murder."_  "My darling!" She made a move forward, but her father stepped before her. "Keep back," he said, in a hard voice; "there 16 nothing between you and that wan
The Weekly Journal. — 1902-11-07 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

HUI- as possible at the inquest. Under the circumstances they will net question you too closely. In the meantime I will I go to Avonleigh and see my son. He will tell me why he came to The Gray Homo and why ho is lingering in the neighbourhood." Dora rose and let dawn her veil. "I suppose there is no more to be said," she murmured, "but how am I t.,) endure the suspense?" _ - When 1 have peen him I hope to lot you know what he says almost immediately, Miss Tremewan, I appreciate your desire to help my son." "And you don't think so hardly of me?" "I never did think hardly of you," replied the old gentleman' "but, of course, Miss Tremewan, you are the daughter of a luau who—boat he is dead, so I will say no more. You had better go back now else Inspector Tait may miss you. Keep a brave heart, Miss Trernewati. All will he well." "God grunt it may be so! " said Dora, as her host shook hands. •• I thank you for having received Incs• kindly." . . . . .  '..cad I thank you for ha-ring come," said the courteous old man, after which they parted. Dora walked away swiftly into the darkness, and Mr. Hannaford rcturne Ito his room with a sombre look on his face. He saw that his son was in a dangerous position, and hardly knew what step to take. Dora le•entercd her own home by the back door, and was passing along the corridor to the foot of the stairs, when Inspector Tait issued from the study. He looked complacent, and bowed politely when sho paused. _  "I am glad to see you, Miss Tiemewan," he said, "1 heard you had gone out, and waited until you returned." "I went out for s breath of fresh sir, f replied Dora in a low Toire._  Of course," said the Inspector coolly. "that is only naturil. You look rather tired, Miss Tremewan, but if you could give I me a few minutes in here," he waved his hand towards the study, I should be glad." Dora faltered for a moment, then walked I quietly into the room. Sho did not like to refuse, lest her refusal should look odd. Yet Ishe was so wearied out by her trying interview with Hannaford, that she could hardly control herself. However, she managed to , smile frintly. 'You look tragic, Mr. Tait," she said. "as it anything dreadful?" You might think so," replied Tait, keeping his eyes fixed on her. "That is if what rumour says about young Mr. Hannaford is true."  "What do you mean?" she asked, suddenly on the alert. . • _  "Are rou--pardon me—but they say that you and ill-. Hannaford—" , "I know what you mean," cried Doia, interrupting him impatiently, "go on." " Well, Mists Tremewan,' the Inspector hesitatad again, for he was a kindly man, "the fact is I thin!: what yon said to me is true. Mr. Will Hannaford was with your father on the night of the murder." _ .  " He—he was—here ?" queried Dora, faintly. "flow can you—you tell?* "Very easily. I searched through the papers of your father to we if I could find
The Weekly Journal. — 1904-03-04 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

THE BROWN KID CLOVES. Ile wore two ahirts, a blue one and white one, and ho gave hor tho white one. It was very dirly, and he said he had woru it fi.r a month. She noticed that the PIM of the shirt WAR 'oinked with blood. "Canny, man," she said, looking at the blood on the shirt, "where have you been?" " I have been here, there, and everywhere, and I have been skinning a hare. If anybody asks you about the shirt you 111114 tell them that," was the reply. Then the other man asked her if she would wash his shirt. NVlten he took it off, she notieed that it wss stained with blood. " What," she "have yo.i been skinning a hare, too?" l'lte man laughed, but said nothing. Both men went away, and came back in the day, when she gave them their shirts, which slie had washed, and "Whisky Jack" gave tier a prir of gloves for her trouble. She still had the gloves, which she handed to the pollee. They were n pair of men's brown kid gloves. About Whisky Jack" alto had not the slightest doubt. The other man carried a gun. She did not know who he was, but she was quite certain that he was not Rayne. This was the evidence which the police presented to the Magistratea when the men were charged, and both the prisoners were committed to take their trial for murder. The CaSc came on at the next Durham Assizes.  wilfully tellies a falsehood, there could be no question about "Whisky Jack" being the man who gave her the gloves. But the evidence to show that those gloves were Sterling's amounted to little more than a suggestion that he might have had such gloves. Certainly the kid gloves were curious articles for "Whisky Jack" to have in his possession, and he made no attempt to amount for them. If they belonged to Sterling, the fact that there wee no real proof of -his 'mynas such articles in his possession was one of the unfortunate accidents of the case. If the girl's evidence damaged "Whisky Sack" it did no harm to Bayne, and the fact that mho swore that the man with "Whiskey Jack" was not Bayne, probably helped the Litter. The man with "'Whisky Jack," who also had a blood-stained shirt, was just the shadowy personality that an experienced counsel for the defence can make a groat deal of uso of. Mr. Monk, in his defence of Rayne made tH of this incident, but ha had a deaus,, more to *Ay as to the way the case for the prosecution had broken down, when the jeweller's wife pointed out the wrong prisoner. 'lle counsel for 'Whisky Jack" took the same line. No one, he argued, whose evidence could have any value with them, had sworn positively to "Whisky Jack." The Court adjourned for the summing-up, and as he was being taken back to the prison, another prisoner asked "Whisky Jack" how he had got on. The quick oar of a warder listened for his reply. "Very badly," he onawered, and then, swearing at the girl front the public-house. he void, "1 wish I had never given her the gloves."
The Weekly Journal. — 1904-04-15 (Hartlepool, Cleveland, England)

MENAI., FRIDAY. APRIL lf  At West Hartlepool on Monday, J. Kilding pleaded guilty to having a weight in his possession which was unjost. MI Newton said he found defendant in charge of u greengrocer's cart, selling vegetables, having in use a jib. weight which was one drain short. Mr. Newton added that he had prey lonely ordered the weight in question to be brought to the office. —Defendant, who s.,id the weight was put MI to the cart by another lad by mistake, was lined 10s. and in. 6d. costa.  *w * • On Monday, at West Hartlepool, F. Randall pleaded guilty to selling coal in less quantities than represented on March 28. Mr. Newton. Inspector of Weights and Measures, stated that lie saw defendant's cart at the top of Andrewstreet on the day in question. He examined five hundredweight bags, and found them in all 22}1he. short. Defendant stated that he 15148 taking the bags borne to weigh them for the following Saturday.—Supt. Snaith stated that defendant had, in February; been fined .£1 and costa for a similar offence.—A fine of .22 and costs (7s. 6d4 was imposed, or one month's imprisonment in default.—Sainuel Hughes, similaily complained against, pleaded guilty.—Mr. Newton said he found in 15 bags a total shortage of 5911 be. One bag WB4 Vbs. deficient, another 71bs., another 61bs., and three 511w.—The Bench imposed a fine of 20s. and 7s. 6d. costs.  *• • •  At West Ilartlepool Court on Wednesday an extraordinary story was told concerning George Shall) (19), seaman. who appeared in the dock.—Superintendent Snaith stated that at ten o'clock on Tuesday night prisoner came to the Police Office and stated that he intended to murder his stepfather and then to murder himself, adding that he could stand it no longer. Asked the reason, prisoner said it was the way his stepfather had been using his little brothers and sistars, and knocking them about. Ile (the Superintendent) tried to reason with the youth, but he only got the more determined, stating that if lie did not do it that night he should another time, so for is own protection prisoner was detsined. Prisoner had in his posseision a "penny dreadful." and also a clasp knife. Even this morning he had repeated in court that he would rather give his step-father a good hiding, and if he could not do that, he would give him something else.— In reply to questions by the Magistrates, prisoner said he was a native of York, and had only been in West Hartlepool about a week. He had, he added, had to fight his own wa7 ever since be was 12 year of age. He saw his little brother, aged 11, ill-used for nothing. Ile was kicked and knocked about, and a chair tossed at him, and afterwards he saw him picked up and thrown on top of his other little brother, who was three years old. Somebody then said to his eight-year-old sister, " It's your turn next," and he then came out to the Police Station.—Supt. Snaith said the youth's mother informed an officer that he bad threatened her on Tuesday night.—The Bench adjourned the case for enquiries to be made.