Year: 1876

Yesterday morning the following brief
paragraph appeared in these columns: !:
Banjo Ben announces that he will walk
the tiller rope of the suspension bridge
at three o'clock this afternoon. Ben
further intimates that he would like to
see crowd present, SO that the hat may
formance." True to his promise, Banjo
Ben," as he has been Familiarity known
at st. Paul and Minneapolis, walked
down to the new suspension bridge towers
a little before three o'clock, and with
a foolhardiness born of insanity or strong
drink, and with the agility of cat,
clambered up to the working cable
stretched over the east and west piers of
the uncompleted structure. This "cable"
is bunch of wire not more than one
inch through, over one hundred feet
above the ground, and stretching like
thread between the river banks. Had
Ben's past career been of such a nature
as to create presumption that he was in
earnest concerning his rope-walking ven-
ture, or had any estimate been placed on
the value of his life, it is probable that
the authorities would have prevented
the "exhibiticn." But Ben was queer,
and many thoughtlessly gathered at the
suspension bridge at three o'clock, the
majority believing, after looking up to
the thread swinging at its dizzy height
that Ben would back out. But the ven-
turesome or insane Ben, wearing pair of
dirty white cotton gloves and old rubber
shoes, clambered up to the cable and
promptly began crawling down the slen-
der wire, hand.over-hand, and with his
rubbered feet crossing it. The crowd be-
gan to suspect that sicking sight was
near them, but they continued to gaze
at the dark object overhead. Ben
crawled down the slope for distance
perhaps of fifty feet, when it became
evident that the cable was hurting his
feet. AS if to rest them, he swung his
feet from the wire, and sustained the
weight of his body with his hands alone
for several minutes, and then began to
struggle as if trying to raise himself up
to the wire again. But his strength or
courage had deserted him, and, after a
few more Intellectual efforts to regain his
position on the cable, his hands lost
their cunning, and the crowd suddenly
had its surfeit of tragic horror. Ben's
hold was broken, the cable gave per-
ceptible bound upward, and human
body shot down to the earth with the
speed of rocket, alighting with sick
ening" thud on the sloping bank of the
river, about twenty feet from the water.
In the frightful descent the body had
partially turned so it fell sideways on the
hard ground, and the spectators rushed
to the assistance of the mortally wounded
street musician and amateur rOpe-walker.
DR.. Elliott was announced, and found
Ben breathing when he came, but pro-
| nounced the injury mortal, and in few
moments Banjo Ben had breathed his
last, some of those near him averring
that in his unconscious state he family
murmured the words he had often spoken
in his life, Guilty, your Honor" The
writer knows no other name for this dead
man. He was not vicious, but an over
powering habit had mastered him COM
pletely, and he has for ten years led a
vagrant life, alternating in quick sue
cession from police stations to that
liberty which enabled him to win whisky
by humping that banjo which has given
him name and principal accomplish.
ment. He has been vexing problem to
the authorities of the dual cities, but
that has been sadly solved by the
catastrophe of yesterday afternoon. In
the morning he had entered complaint
against two other colored men for steal
ing "mouf organ," but Ben has with
drawn it in higher Court, and the dead
body will be decently, but economially
inferred at the public expense.