Deer
Park’s 1894
Halloween
Murder Mystery
by
Wally Lee
Parker
© Wallace Lee Parker
(Reprint from the November, 2016, issue of
the Mortarboard;
newsletter for the Clayton/Deer
Park Historical Society, Clayton, Washington.)
Under
the headline “This
May Hide a Crime,”
the following article appeared in the Wednesday, October 31st, 1894, edition of Spokane’s Chronicle.
“A strange mound of earth, artfully
concealed, will give up its secrets today.
What has been a mystery for three years will be explained before sunset,
or will become a greater mystery than before.
A band of officials started to Deer Park today to begin the
investigation, and on their return will at least explain the mound, if not the
mystery.
“Three years ago last August the son
of a farmer living near Deer Park, a lad of fourteen years of age, mysteriously
disappeared from home, and from that day to the present his whereabouts and
fate have always been a mystery. Foul
play was suspected and a diligent search was made for some trace of the missing
lad, but although every effort was made, it ended in naught. No grave could be found nearby, and the
generally accepted theory was that the boy had tired of the life he was leading
and the treatment to which he was subjected and had run away from home.
“A few days ago the sheriff’s office
was put in the possession of certain information which may lead to a solution
of the mysterious disappearance of the lad.
This morning Felix Pugh, Deputy Charles Cole, Prosecuting Attorney
Fenton, Coroner Newman and Dr. Dutton took the Spokane & Northern train for
Deer Park and expect today to clear up the secret, find the missing boy’s body,
and possibly place under arrest those suspected of having been the cause of his
death.
“A few days ago a neighbor passing
near the boy’s old home discovered what appeared to be an old grave. The charred and blackened stump of a tree was
in the center of the grave, but a slight push dislodged the stump and showed
that it was only the round end of a tree that had been placed in the
ground. Remembering the incident of the
boy’s disappearance, the discoverer of the mound replaced the stump and drove
away.
“At night he returned and began
further investigations. With a wagon rod
he began probing in the grave and at a depth of a few feet the point of the rod
came in contact with what was apparently a board surface. After some little effort the rod was forced
farther down and appeared to be in a cavity.
When it was withdrawn a terrible stench, as though from a dead body,
arose, and the conclusion was at once reached that this was the grave of the
boy who had so suddenly disappeared.
“The discoverer hastened to town and
reported the matter, and, as stated, the above parties left this morning to
make an official investigation. They
will open the supposed grave, and if the skeleton of a fourteen-year-old boy is
found, some arrest may follow.”
To
understand both the aforementioned article, as well as what comes after, the
following background regarding the five men involved might prove helpful.
According
to Jonathan Edwards’ Illustrated
History of Spokane County
— published in 1900 — Felix M. Pugh was a deputy sheriff for Spokane County
when the above incident occurred. Born
in Linn County, Oregon, in 1854, he arrived in the area in 1880 and took a
homestead a dozen miles east of Spokane.
He moved into Spokane eight years later, taking on the job of deputy
sheriff. In 1894 he ran for the office
of Spokane County Sheriff on the Republican ticket. The election was held on November 6th, just a week after the above
described investigation. It’s not known
what part the Halloween mystery may have played in the election, but, as the Illustrated History states, Deputy Pugh was “defeated by a majority of only
thirty-one votes.”
Deputy
Sheriff Charles A. Cole is also mentioned in Edwards’ book. Just a year younger than Felix Pugh, this
native of the State of New York migrated to the Territory of Washington in 1879. He was accompanied on that journey by Francis
Cook, publisher of Spokane’s first newspaper, the Spokane Times (1879 — 1882), at which Mr. Cole
worked as “a
solicitor.” Apparently leaving the Spokane area in 1881,
he tried out various jobs before becoming editor of a newspaper in Corvallis,
Oregon — a job he was fired from after a dustup with the paper’s owners
centered on the paper’s anti-Republican leanings. (This last bit of data was drawn from a source other than
Edwards’ largely non-critical Illustrated History.)
Mr.
Cole returned to Spokane in 1887, engaging first in “a fish and poultry market,” and then “the real estate business.”
Edwards’ book then notes, “For four years from 1889 he was deputy sheriff,” that being his occupation at the
time of 1894’s Halloween incident. “He then became expense bill clerk
at (the) Union depot.”
At some point prior to the above book’s 1900 publication date, Mr. Cole
appears to have rejoined the sheriff’s office.
And after the resignation of his superior, was himself appointed Spokane
County Sheriff — a post he retained by voter consensus at the next election.
As for
“Prosecuting
Attorney Fenton,”
according to Julian Hawthorne’s 1893 “History of Washington, the Evergreen State: from Early Dawn
to Daylight,”
James Edward Fenton was born in Clarke County, Missouri, in 1857. In 1865 his family settled in Oregon’s
Willamette Valley — having made the trip from Missouri by wagon train. After legal training, Fenton was admitted to
Oregon’s Bar in 1882, and, according to Hawthorne’s book, “In February, 1890, he removed to
Spokane and formed a partnership with his brother, Charles R. Fenton, under the
firm style of Fenton & Fenton.” It’s then recorded
that in 1892, Mr. Fenton, running as a Democrat in a largely Republican county,
was, by a fair margin, elected Prosecuting Attorney.
According
to the 1928 edition of American
Blue Book, California Lawyers, James E. Fenton “served one term of District Attorney, Spokane County.”
Whether that would have been a two or four year term isn’t made clear,
but what is made clear is that he left the State of Washington in 1899, and
settled in California several years later.
“Coroner Newman” appears to have been one Dewitt
Clinton Newman. Edward’s History of Spokane County states that he was born in Ohio in
1857, and “commenced
the study of medicine at Starling Medical College, Columbus, Ohio, graduating
in February, 1882.” After some further education in San
Francisco, Doctor Newman practiced aboard ship — and for a time overseas. He came to Spokane in 1889. The Illustrated History goes on to say that “the doctor is a Democrat.
He was coroner of Spokane County from 1892 to 1895.”
Doctor
Newman’s dedication to the healing arts is suggested in an article appearing in
the October 28th, 1905 edition of the Spokane Daily Chronicle.
Under the banner “Is
Spokane River Full of Zinc and Lead,” the article describes the heavy metal contamination
drifting downstream from the Coeur d’Alene mining district, and the danger to
health this constituted at a time when the city was drawing its drinking water
from the river. Doctor Newman, then
health officer for the City of Spokane, is quoted as saying, “I have believed for a long time
that poisonous substances are contained in the water consumed here… .”
And, “I
believe it would be wise to sink wells to obtain a new water supply. In any event, we should discontinue the use
of water poisoned by lead and zinc.”
Over a
hundred years later and Spokane’s still dealing with this issue, but nowadays
the concern has moved to the region’s underground aquifer, and the very system
of wells Doctor Newman was proposing.
A
notice of the doctor’s May 1st,
1915, passing appeared in that year’s July edition of Northwest Medicine: the Journal of
the State Medical Associations of Oregon, Washington, Idaho, and Utah.
The
last named passenger disembarking from the October 31st locomotive to Deer Park was Doctor
W. O. Dutton. We know Dr. Dutton had
replaced Dr. Newman as Spokane County Coroner by 1896. Beyond that, all we can currently say is that
Dr. Dutton was still practicing medicine in Spokane as of 1905.
The
next day — November 1st — the Spokane Chronicle printed the results of the five
above noted gentlemen’s investigation.
Under
the headline “Found
the Bones: The Deer Park Grave Gives Up Its Dark Secrets,” the newspaper reported, “A strange mound of earth, artfully
concealed, gave up its secrets on Halloween.
A band of county officials yesterday invaded the sanctity of old man
Hermann’s place at Deer Park and desecrated the grave of his departed Jersey cow.
“It was a somber, silent crowd that
alighted from the train at Deer Park yesterday and took up their silent march
to the old German’s place to exhume what was supposed to be the body of the
boy. Felix and Charles tightened their
cartridge belts and assumed an I-am-after Gloystein air. Coroner Newman was pale and placid, thinking
of the votes he would gain when the terrible mystery was explained away. Prosecutor Fenton took a look at Hill’s
statistics and located the drug store, and the Republican reporter whistled for
the dog.
“When they reached the old man’s
place he was there and kindly escorted them to the grave which it was supposed
contained the body of his boy, Julius.
At the brink of the sepulcher the old man paused, but at the fierce look
from Felix, he and his other son snickered and began to remove the clods of
earth. Down, down they dug, until the
body was reached and then dragged out.
It was only the carcass of a cow and the old man laughed at the
discomfiture of the officials.
“With a look of withering scorn the
committee of investigation turned their backs, marched to the Deer Park drug
store, and said not a word until the Hostetter's bitters bottle had thrice made
the rounds. Then they came back to
Spokane.
“The boy, Julius, who so
mysteriously disappeared some three years ago, is said to be working on a ranch
at Cheney. His father will be here in a
few days and will go out and get his son and take him home.”
At
some point we may be able to identify both the above noted “old man Hermann” and the location of the “old German’s” place. Eventually we might even find something more
about his son, Julius. But not today.
Some
of the other specifics and allusions in this last Daily Chronicle article can more readily be
interpreted. For example, the passage “Felix and Charles tightened their
cartridge belts and assumed an I-am-after Gloystein air” undoubtedly refers to another
incident of dubious clarity Deputy Felix Pugh had become immersed in just that
summer.
On
Monday, July 30th, 1894, a flare of headlines in the
Spokane Daily
Chronicle introduced
a story that quickly began echoing in newsprint across a wide swath of the
United States. Following a common
pattern among newspapers of the era, Spokane’s Chronicle first boldfaced the most
sensational bits of the story down inch after inch of column. This lead-in read, “KIDNAPPED — Charles Gloystein
Secretly Spirited Away by Night from His Home Near Mica — HE WAS PROBABLY
MURDERED — Evidence that His Political Enemies Have Made Away with a Prominent
and Respected Citizen — HAT RIDDLED WITH BULLETS — Sheriff Pugh Makes a
Startling Discovery, but Does Not Find the Body.”
In
essence, the story stated that Charles Gloystein’s wife recalled her husband
being “called
out of bed about midnight last night.” She reported
hearing some type of conversation going on outside — possibly something to do
with a wagon. She went back to sleep,
and in the morning discovered her husband missing.
Deputy
Sheriff Pugh “telephoned
from Rockford that he had gone to Mica and had searched Gloystein’s barn and
premises for traces of the missing man.
He finally found his hat about a quarter of a mile south of the
house. There were three bullet holes in
it and it was covered with blood and hair.
No traces of the body had been found at the time, but Sheriff Pugh is
almost certain that Mr. Gloystein has been murdered.”
The Chronicle had the motive covered as well.
“He (Charles F. Gloystein) was well known as a Republican
politician and took a decided and positive stand on all public matters. This characteristic made him some bitter
personal enemies.”
An
inclusion in the August 4th edition of Salt Lake City’s The Deseret Weekly defined Gloystein’s enemies more
sharply. It stated, “The missing man had incurred the
enmity of the Populists of his neighborhood, and the feeling against him was
intense.”
The
above mentioned “Populists” was a left-leaning independent
third party formed in 1892, but largely dissolved after the 1896 elections,
with the remnants of the group merging into the Democratic Party.
On
August 11th, under the headline “Murder Will Out,” the Chronicle suggested that the murder was
related to Gloystein’s withdrawal from the “Freeman’s Protective Silver Federation,” an organization associated with
the Populist Party. The article goes on
to quote Deputy Sheriff Pugh as saying, “sooner or later the whole horrible story will come out and
the assassins will be brought to justice.”
And
justice — of sorts — was eventually served to most, if not all, concerned.
The
September 24th issue of the Chronicle reported that a tip delivered to
Deputy Pugh just four days earlier had solved the mystery of Gloystein’s
disappearance — which the deputy confirmed by visiting a farm near the small
community of Moro, in north central Oregon, and speaking with the missing
gentleman in person. Simply put, Mr.
Gloystein felt the political animosity around Mica had become so great his only
recourse was to fake his own death and flee.
As
later reported in The
Islander
— a newspaper representing western Washington’s San Juan County — “Gloystein refused to return with
the sheriff and said if his wife would come to him, he would go far away and
make a new start.” According to the newspaper, she stated she
would. And assumedly that’s exactly what
happened.
So the
Spokane
Chronicle’s
statement in its November 1st
issue that deputies “Felix
and Charles,”
upon stepping from the train, “tightened their cartridge belts and assumed an I-am-after
Gloystein air”
in preparation for their onsite
investigation of Deer Park’s mysterious grave, was at the very least a humorous
ribbing, and at worst a sharp political jab.
Which
begs the question, was there some sort of political sabotage afoot in the Chronicle’s reporting?
Was
the anonymous author of the last article (and quite possibly the former)
suggesting some conspiratorial subtext to the goings-on when he wrote “Coroner Newman,” a Democrat,” was pale and placid, thinking of
the votes he would gain when the terrible mystery was explained away?”
Was the writer also implying that Spokane County’s prosecuting attorney,
James Fenton, another Democrat, was inclined toward strong drink by referencing
the attorney's desire to locate a “drug store,” and its probable cache of notoriously high-octane “Hostetter's Bitters?”
On the
other hand, deputies Pugh and Cole, both Republicans, were not spared in the
general skewering; that being the only thing that would divert a suspicious
mind from considering the entire episode an elaborately constructed dirty deed
staged, as it were, just seven days prior to 1894’s election.
And
speaking of conspiracies, why, when old man Hermann was compelled to uncover
the grave of his supposedly missing son, did “he and his other son snicker?”
And, once the grave was uncovered, he “laughed at the discomfiture of the officials?”
Having
put the cow there, they obviously knew what they were digging up. Most likely they also knew the supposedly
murdered boy was in fact working at Cheney.
In other words, they knew the punchline.
Whether they tried to explain this to the criminal justice experts
before beginning the disinterment isn’t stated.
But the story, at face value, suggests not.
So …
was Deer Park’s Mr. Hermann an innocent victim of judicial exuberance inflated
by the possibility of political gain? Or
was he a knowing participant in some carefully plotted political
shenanigans? Or then again, was he part
and parcel of an epic Halloween prank — something akin to tipping over a
political outhouse or two for no reason other than the fact that political
outhouses occasionally need a cleansing tip?
All
that considered, the remaining puzzle is — how again does Hostetter’s Bitters
fit into all this?
Describing
the clutch of investigators arriving at Deer Park, the Chronicle’s reporter stated, “Prosecutor Fenton took a look at
Hill’s statistics and located a drug store.” A working theory
is that “Hill’s
statistics”
was something provided by the railroad to describe the amenities, if any, found
at each stop — amenities such as “a drug store.”
After
the body inside the grave was revealed, and old man Hermann had commenced his
laughing, the article stated that it was with a “look of withering scorn (that) the committee of investigation
turned their backs, marched to the Deer Park drug store, and said not a word
until the Hostetter's bitters bottle had thrice made the rounds.”
Hostetter’s
Celebrated Stomach Bitters, a widely available patient medicine with a reported
alcohol content varying between 25 and 47 percent, had been around since
1853. Reputedly useful for correcting a
wide spectrum of vague complaints such as toxic liver, it wasn’t until the Pure
Food & Drug Act was passed in 1906 that Hostetter’s (and the like) were
finally forced to reveal something of their ingredients on the label. That said, the Commissioner of Internal
Revenue — as reported in the September 8th,
1883, issue of the Journal
of the American Medical Association — had already drawn some conclusions, validated through a
laboratory analysis conducted by the Department of Agriculture. The commissioner said, “Containing as it does no
deleterious drugs and only 4 percent of anything like a drug, I should probably
be entirely justified in deciding outright that one who sells it for any purpose
is a retail liquor dealer.”
And
so, with freshly purified livers, our skilled investigators returned to
Spokane, leaving Deer Park to its Halloween chuckle.
——— end ———
