Death by Chair over the Head

William Robinson died at 78 years old in January of 1922 while a resident of the Poor Farm, and is buried in the cemetery there. Looks like William got into a tussle with another “inmate” of the poor farm, who struck him on the side of the face with a chair. The other resident was Ben Shinpaugh, who said William “molested” him, which in early 20th century usage, may have meant he was just annoying him. Those investigating the case believed that William was in such bad physical condition, including a diagnosis of erysipelas - a skin infection, that the chair over the head did not cause William’s death. A jury agreed. This may be a ‘let’s let this one go’ case.

Slashed His Own Throat with a Razor

Henry Hobbs lived at the poor farm only a few months, which was being referred to as the County Home by 1933. A 67 year old, well-respected carpenter from Franklin, IL, residents of the poorhouse noticed his health was getting worse, and Henry was becoming more despondent. He was heard telling several people “you can call the undertaker.” Henry, alone in his room, sat in his chair and slashed his own throat several times with a razor. The doctor attempting to keep him alive overnight, but by the morning, he had died from shock and loss of blood. A death record shows he may be buried in Ashland, IL.

“Old” John Olean

An article about John states he was born in Sweden [poorhouse records have Germany]. He started working as harvest hand and saved enough money to buy 40 acres in Apple Creek and lived there until 1902, and then moved to Jacksonville. He often visited Sweden, and was “industrious and dependable.” Known to many people as “Old John,” he lived in the basement of courthouse for 14 years – he served as night fireman of the building. He had no relatives. The position had no salary, but Sheriff Charles B. Graff “fitted up sleeping quarters” in the basement and gave him a place to stay. He worked enough odd jobs over the summer months to save up enough money for food throughout the year.

John was sent to Poor Farm on May 17, 1920, when he became very ill and disabled. He is listed in the record as a 73 year old German, who died two days later at the County Farm. John was famous enough that he was in the newspaper for an advertisement for Tanlac medicine – it quotes him (from an April date) as having helped him with his rheumatism and stomach troubles. [Jacksonville Daily Journal, May 10, 1917]

Source: Jacksonville Daily Journal, May 20, 1920 – “John Olean Had Unusual Record”

Old Irishman Frozen to Death

I’m reminded of the Irish blessing with this story.

May the road rise to meet you,

may the wind be ever at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

and the rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of his hand.

On December 28, 1902, the newspaper reported on the death of Patrick Loud, from Franklin, IL. Patrick was a resident of the poorhouse and farm, and an Irishman. His name was spelled Louth in the poorhouse records, and as an Irishman, likely pronounced the “th” like a hard “d,” and thus the reporter talking to persons familiar with the case likely heard it as Loud. Patrick first entered the poorhouse for a sore foot in July of 1902, but ran away. He seems to have shown up again on December 5th.

It was two days before Christmas, and Patrick wanted to attend Catholic mass services in Jacksonville, likely at Our Savior Catholic Church. However, that morning the weather “was blistering and roads rough.” The superintendent, Mr. Carroll, who was also Catholic, did not want to risk driving to the city (in horse and buggy), but Patrick felt he could brave the weather and walk. He spent the day with friends (not sure if he actually attended mass), and started back to the poor farm at dusk. He was walking along the ridge where the road cuts through a hill, about six feet above the road, then slipped and fell on the road. He hit the frozen ground hard, and lay there unconscious. No one passed by to notice him, and ol’ Patrick froze to death. Unfortunately, the road worked against him, the cold wind was right on him, and there was no sun upon his face.

Tailor Torn to Shreds

Mike Shulski, a 54 year old itinerant tailor, was killed in Jacksonville one night in October 1938. Mike was born in Poland, and a widower with no relatives in America. He may have been struck by a train, but a jury did not reach that conclusion. His body was found near the railroad tracks. He suffered a “crushing blow” so bad that numerous ribs were torn from his spine, and likely fracturing the whole spine itself. However, people who knew Mike stated he liked to hit the bottle, a “drinking man,” and there was no evidence his body had been dragged or mutilated, as would be typical of a train injury. He was last seen working at a particular tailor shop in Jacksonville three weeks prior to the incident, but not since. A police officer that went to the scene found grease on his sweater, 33 cents, and a large hole in his back. Two weeks prior to the incident, Mike was booked on drinking charges. A few nights before his death, Mike got into an argument with another transient, a carpenter from Clintonville, Wisconsin. He said that Mike offered to buy him a drink, but he refused, and Mike became loud and angry. He saw Mike later around 10:00 pm on his way to the box car where he slept with three other men, but knew nothing about his death. Another tailor testified that Mike was trying to get more steady work, and also saw him on Monday, but Mike had $10 cash on him (so it went from $10 to 33 cents sometime that evening!). The doctor who examined the body, T.O. Hardesty, said Mike’s face was in good shape, but his hands had dug into gravel and dirt. He didn’t think foul play was involved. Train crews did not report any incidents. Mike never lived at the poorhouse and farm, but since they didn’t likely have any place to bury him, there is indication he is buried at the poor farm cemetery in Jacksonville.

Died While Just Passing Through Town

Robert Armstrong is likely buried at the poor farm cemetery because, well, nobody knew what else to do with him.

We don’t really know the reason why Robert was in Central Park (Jacksonville), but, he was there, and died of a major heart attack. He was 60 years old. He was still alive when police arrived, and told them he was prone to heart attacks. He was one tough cookie! He died 15 minutes after his collapse. His wallet showed a Chicago address, but police found out it was just an overnight boarding house. He stayed a few nights at the Douglas Hotel in Jacksonville, but had no luggage. He died with $3 in his pocket.

A former employer in Chicago suggested they contact people in “Carrollton” where he thought he had relatives and property. But no one in Carrollton, Illinois, knew of him, so they called Carrollton, Missouri, but also to no avail. His former employer thought Robert may have originally been from Kentucky…or Tennessee.

It’s very likely the good people of Jacksonville gave him a forever resting place at the poor farm cemetery, and with a 1947 date of death (just a few years prior to the closure of the poor farm), he is likely one of the higher numbered graves in the newer cemetery along Baldwin Road.

Liquor on the Train

Frank Precious was born in England (1862), was a farm laborer from Alexander, IL, and is buried at the Poor Farm cemetery (Grave #34). He was arrested for drunkenness minimally on four occasions as reported by the Jacksonville Journal-Courier, one in which he bought his liquor in nearby New Berlin, IL, then rode the train to the big city of Jacksonville, but was arrested when he got off the train, fined $5, couldn’t pay, so was sent to jail. Ol’ Frank must have created quite the racket on the train in to be arrested when he got off! He entered the poorhouse in 1925 and died in 1927.

He is buried at the poor farm cemetery, #34. Died March 16, 1927.

Drunken Blow to the Head

George Mines liked the bottle as well. One night in July 1896, he suffered a severe blow to the head at the Wabash railroad depot, and showed up at the police station drunk with blood streaming down his face on all over his clothes. He told the police he was assaulted with a car pin used on him by an unknown individual. He told the police he and his brother were from Bluffs and waiting for the train when assaulted ‘by two black man demanding money,’ and when they refused, one took a car pin and whacked George. However, both George and his brother were so drunk when they were at the police station, they weren’t making any sense and the police could not (and would not) determine the credibility of their rather racist story.

Funny thing, but George was struck by lightning later in 1904, employed as a farm hand on Ferdinand Strawn’s farm, but “was only stunned by the strike.”

He is buried at the poor farm cemetery, #35. Died February 19, 1927.

“Deaf Dumb Blind Dwarf”

Well hopefully we all see from this title why we need to develop linguistic understanding and sensitivity as civilization progresses. But the keepers of the poorhouse records were pretty blunt about their descriptions of some of the “inmates.” This is the story of Emma Imboden, buried in the Jacksonville East Cemetery.

In the poor farm record book, she first enters the poorhouse on October 3, 1895, and the record keeper records her as German, and reason for entering as “Deaf Dumb Blind Dwarf.” The record keeper recorded her name as Emma Bowden. Another time it was listed as Bowders. Clearly, members of the local community were able to inform the reporter writing the obituary. She was related to the Freitags, and lived with them. One source stated that the Imbodens were from Switzerland. She was a nurse and “kitchen girl” prior to going blind. She died at the poorfarm January 4, 1916.

German “Shit the Bed” Before Leaving

About one week before Christmas in 1853, Herdanian Spear, an immigrant from Germany, showed up at the Morgan County Poorhouse and Farm having been “sick.” He may have been in Jacksonville for some work, because one record shows he "belongs to Sangamon," which means his permanent residence was in Sangamon County.

On January 16, 1854, he was discharged from the poorhouse. He was "taken away by his brother," but it appears Herdanian left a gift for the poorhouse staff, as a staff member wrote in the record that he "shit in the bed before being taken away."

Former Poorhouse Superintendent Murdered Over Gold

Joseph Heslep was the poorhouse superintendent when Dorothea Dix visited in 1847. His parents, Thomas and Cassandra, operated the Heslep Tavern in Jacksonville. Dorothea Dix gave a scathing report about the conditions of the poorhouse. [See Chapter 3 in the Morgan County Poorhouse and Farm.] At one point, he also served as the Morgan County Clerk.

Maybe after the report, the County Commissioners decided it was time for a change. Or, maybe Joe had enough of hanging out with mentally ill, and was ready to strike it big. When “California fever” broke out (gold), he and 40 men left for California to strike it rich (April 1849). But, the paper reported, “his life was cut short by a cowardly murdrer [sic] who struck him from behind.”

Tossed into the Town Brook

There is little evidence that Louis “Tuey” Moore, 68 years old, ever lived at the poor farm, died there, or was buried in the cemetery there. However, the Jacksonville Genealogical Society indicates on their website of poor farm burials he is buried there. And this story is too macabre to pass up. Louis’ house roommate, Homer Ward, said he saw Louis in the downtown square about 9:30 pm, but other witnesses testified he had been in the tavern since 7:30 pm, and started home around midnight. Harold King, a local resident, found him in the Town Brook near the South East Street bridge when he was looking for a rock to use as a wheel block. Police officers on the scene dragged him out with the help of the neighborhood residents who had been congregating. They said his body was face down when they reached for him in the water. The doctor, T.O. Hardesty, testified that the cause of death was suffocation, not drowning, and that there was a large contusion on the top of the head which caused major bleeding. A jury stated it could not determine the cause of death. There the story ends. Was his roommate Homer telling the truth? Did he slip and fall in a drunken stupor into the water? Or was he bashed over the head and his body was tossed into the Brook? We’ll never know.

Irishman Stunned by the Shunting Engine

Patrick Mullin’s Poorhouse record shows he entered 3/15/1910, 73 years old, married white male, and entered due to “lame not able to work.” The poorhouse record is ripped, and no last name shown, but I was able to match his date of death with other records. The record states “Dec. 16, 1910 Died. Buried at Farm Dec 17.” The Jacksonville Genealogical Society record spells his last name as “Mullen.” The 1910 Census says Mrs. Patrick is with him at the poorhouse, 44 years old.

The Jacksonville Daily Illinois Courier of Monday, May 25, 1903, says he didn’t get out of the way of a Railroad shunting-engine. Another name for a shunting-engine is Switcher, as it is used for moving trains between platforms.

The reporter seems to make light of the situation. Also, Patrick was, of course, an Irishman, as we can tell by his reference to “the good fairies.” “Pat was not quick enough in getting out of the way…True, he made a desperate leap for life, but not in time…” “Phwat - phwat was it struck me?” “Well Pat, you was struck by the tender.” Pat replied, “the tender was it? Well thank the good fairies it wasn’t the tough! By the powers, ‘twas quite harrd enough!”

A Civil War case of PTSD?

On July 31, 1900, the Jacksonville Daily Journal reported that a man was found nearly dead lying next to the railroad track up in Chapin. He was “completely exhausted and so weak that he could not talk.” He was taken to the Poor Farm and died there. Papers on him showed he was John Brown, an ‘inmate’ at the National Home for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers in Marion, Indiana.

Ol’ John Brown must have taken the railroad train all the way to Chapin. Why was John running? Was he escaping poor care? Was he seeking new adventures? Was he experiencing PTSD and running and not talking and self-neglect were symptomatic?

After they found him, they took him to the Poor farm. The poor farm record shows an entry of July 30, 1900, with death the following day, July 31. The recorder listed him as 65 years old, with “ill health,” and wrote in “Died general Debility Buried East Cemetery.” He was “tenderly cared for” by Superintendent Carroll, but soon after died. Upon his death, there was an inquiry, and the paper reported their findings (following pages). They contacted the Old Soldiers Home in Marion, Indiana, and the staff there said they had no money to transport him back for burial. So the attending doctor (also a veteran) contacted the local veteran’s auxiliary, and they gave him a “proper soldier’s burial” in Jacksonville East Cemetery. [To date, I have not been able to find his grave in Jacksonville East – crowdsource assistance welcome!]. Also, the number of John Brown’s that served in Indiana units in the Civil War were in the hundreds.

Politics in Superintendent Appointments of the Poor Farm

In David Wagner’s book, “The poorhouse: America’s forgotten institution” he discusses the juxtaposing ideas of the poorhouse – hospitality and punishment. Borrowing from the English Poor Laws, it was designed as a correctional institution for the “unworthy poor,” people presumed lazy or deviant. The idea was to reform society. However, each institution was grounded in regional culture and context. Communities understood their own economic conditions, as well as an understanding of the ability to control one’s own poverty condition. Wagner states, “some poor farms were rather homey places and came to be greatly appreciated by the inmates, particularly in cold winters…but varied tremendously in their nature from region to region” (6).

Clicking on the picture above will download the .pdf file that discusses the different administrations in running the poorhouse between M.H. Carroll, and W.T. Layton, both superintendents in the late 19th century.