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Hello, and welcome to my Victorian Nightmare. I'm your host, Genevieve Manion, and I'm here to talk about mysterious deaths, morbid fascinations, disturbing stories, and otherwise spooky events from the Victorian era. Because to me, there's just something especially intriguing, creepy, and oddly comforting about horror and mayhem from the 19th century. So listener discretion is advised. Hello, friends, and welcome to this, my 29th episode. I hope that you had a lovely week. Mine was very exciting and very joyful and full of anxiety because of all the horrors and also just full of gratitud. Myself and a lot of people I think, have finished licking our wounds and we are polishing off our sledgehammers. Gotta get to work. I also discovered the greatest thing that you could do for yourselves right now. I promise, if you are feeling a bit overwhelmed right now, that is on purpose. All of the garbage on the news is doing that on purpose. If you feel really worn out, really shaken, and you live in a chilly climate like most of the States, take a little trip to your local zoo or botanical garden and you're going to find a very specific area. It's likely that your zoo or botanical garden has a tropical area. You're going to find this area and you're going to take your coat off and take your cute little earmuffs off and walk into the tropical heavenscape and just stand there for a bit. Oh, God. It was like 18 degrees or something in the city and I was really stressed out about some stuff, so I just popped a fistful of gummy bears in my mouth and I trotted on down to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden and I just sat down on a stair in the tropical pavilion and nobody told me to get up. There's nobody there. Nobody goes to the botanical Gardens in the winter. You can have the whole place to yourself. I just sat and hydrated my soul for like an hour. When I left, I felt like a fairy princess. I've been ready for everything since, so I am going to go at least once a week now, believe me, you gotta try it. Just get Dewey at your local zooey. And now some haunted housekeeping first of all, you folks in the Apple podcast comments are still cracking me up, but for different reasons than last week. Sure, I still get the odd MAGA individual mad about something, but the comments that you guys have been leaving in my defense have really tickled me. I love this. You're making me so proud of myself and I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't know if I need any more encouragement to say whatever comes into my mind. That being said, thank you to those who are writing the really kind comments over there and rating the podcast. This continues to be very, very important to me on Apple Podcasts as well as Spotify. Please continue. Pop into the comments and say hello on both platforms. Spotify is a little more fun though, because I can actually respond to you, which I almost always do. Instead of reading the news, I read your comments and it's really helping to keep my mental health passable, I'll say that much. Oh, and I have an important question for you. How are my S's? Are they really tinny or do they not bother you? I still have about four more months of Invisalign shark teeth with with all these infuriating sharp little nubbins on the backs of my teeth and I was qcing the podcast the other day on a pair of new headphones and my S's sound a bit harsh. I'm not sure if it's the new headphones or that I am a shark and I need to apply more de essing in the final mix. Let me know in the poll on Spotify do I sound like a shark snake or is the sound okay to you? To let me know you just click on the episode post on the Spotify app, not in the browser. It only works on the app for some reason. Scroll all the way down past the chapters and comments and you will find the poll. No one has mentioned it to me, but I want to make sure I'm not making your ears bleed. Oh I am on Blue sky now. I'm still posting on Instagram for now, but I really hope Blue sky can overtake that and all Musk or Elon owned social media apps. Just search for me there and you shall find me. And as always, thank thank you to those of you who joined my Patreon this week who enjoy the show ad free. You can also receive the show ad free by going to myvictoriannightmare.com and finding my Patreon link as well as some very tasteful merch. If you fancy a dark and depressing mug to cry into in the morning as I am often want to do into my coffee reading your sweet comments. And if you haven't already, check out my new podcast, Dark Poetry. You may enjoy it. This week I'm reading darkly romantic Victorian poetry in celebration of St Valentine's Day, which is upon us. I also have some very mean Victorian Valentines to read to you a little later on. But first I will be diving into everyone's favorite blood soaked, gross out tabloid from the Victorian era, the Illustrated Police News, Law Courts and Record. It's a mixed bag. Today it's going to be an emotional, emotional rollercoaster for you, dear listener. I will have butchery with banjos, naked maniacs, decapitating people, lesbians, more butchery, and as I said, some charming insults that Victorians liked to send to one another on Valentine's Day. My articles today are actually from both 1871 and 1880 volumes. I've been sticking with 1871 for a while and I still have so many more from just that one year to share, but I found some particularly interesting ones from an 1880 volume that I shall share with you today. I got some really wonderful insight into some of these articles from murderbygaslight.com as well as some fun facts from an Atlas Obscura article as well as an article from medium.com you can find all of my references for today's episode in the show. Notes okay, let's begin. Ugh, this is a rough one. They're all pretty rough today, but I just. I just need you to hear this stuff. I can't keep it to myself. Our first article is called Butchered with a Banjo How Louisa Dorff Was Murdered by William Condon, A Beautiful Girl's Frightful Downfall. And it reads, Ms. Lou Perry, alias Big Lou, was murdered in a shocking and remarkable manner in Cincinnati, June 17 by a youth named William Condon. She was a kept woman residing at number 300 West 5th Street. Condon had been living with her for eight months and they had resided at number 300 but a short time when the tragedy was enacted. Just previous to the murder, the girl was out on the street with a man and was seen as they came to the door by Condon. It was Lou's intention to escort the man who was with her up to her room to the second story back. When Condon saw what was up, he put in an appearance and the man left. The peri girl was intoxicated and Condon told her to go upstairs. She refused and he attempted to drive her. She became enraged at this, and when he got into the hallway, he locked the hall door. At this, the woman began to kick at the door and to insist upon it being opened. At first, Condon refused to comply, and she threatened to cut him. The door was opened and the two went into a narrow court that runs alongside of the house. Here the quarrel was renewed and Condon struck the woman a powerful blow in the face with a heavy, brass bound banjo that he held in his hand. Lou sank to the pavement, fatally injured. The girl was carried upstairs into her room where she was laid on the bed and Dr. Fairchild was summoned. The injured victim lived half an hour. The banjo cut a gash from the bridge of the nose to the lower part of her right cheek, and the screws of the instrument made a hole in the shape of a cross in the nose. Condon, after striking the blow, did not attempt to get away, but assisted in washing the blood from the ghastly wound wound. He was thus engaged. When arrested, he gave his age as 23 and residence number 300 West 5th Street. End quote. Okay, I found some more information here about this story. Firstly, William Condon was a banjo player at Ryan's Saloon. He also performed variety acts. When the article said Louisa was a, quote, unquote, kept woman, this meant, or the article was implying, without any evidence, that she was exchanging sexual favors for room and board with Condon. Another article from the Cincinnati Daily Gazette described her more disrespectfully as a low, miserable, besotted prostitute. End quote. That paper also said that the home where Louisa and William lived was noted, noted during the past two years for the disgraceful orgies carried on within its walls. It is no uncommon thing, it is said, for women perfectly nude to be running about the place in broad daylight. End quote. Louisa came from a troubled home. Two of her brothers were incarcerated early in life, and once they got out of prison, they got into more trouble and the entire family was driven out of synthesis. Cincinnati, Ohio, by neighbors. But Louisa, she stayed behind after the murder. Condon apparently made no resistance when he was arrested. He was charged with second degree murder and held on $5,000 bail. There were two other women, though, that were arrested during the incident. A woman named Hattie Whiting and Maddie Davis. They were arrested for vagrancy and held in the workhouse to guarantee that they would be available to testify. I mentioned last week exactly what a workhouse was. It was an institution where the most poor people could go to get food and shelter in exchange for doing dangerous and grueling work. But I didn't know that it was also at times, and I guess especially in this instance, used as a prison of sorts, like a holding cell. The coroner came to the conclusion that Luisa came to her death from a fusion of blood on the brain. I further that the blow which fractured the nasal bones was the cause of said effusion and that the blow was inflicted with a banjo in the hands of William Condon. End quote. But this is the most tragic part of the story. Condon was never found guilty of her murder. In fact, he never even went to trial at all at this time. And this is kind of wild. This time Cincinnati government was dominated by rival political gangs controlled by saloon owners. It was as easy as paying the right person to influence the outcome of any trial or even determine if something went to trial at all. In this case, it never did. And Condon walked. So heartbreaking. Okay, on to the next. Oh God, horrible one. Alright, this one right out of the oh my God folder. I'm gonna wait a second for you to get like a lollipop, maybe some ice cream, maybe a Xanax. Because this is honestly one of the craziest and most horrifying articles I have ever read on this show. And I know that that is saying a lot. Okay, you ready? The good news is that the entire gist of the article is very well represented in the just the title of it. So you judge for yourself. Do you want to hear details regarding the following? A naked maniac's horrible deeds. Rushing into a house and killing three persons. Beheading a 12 year old girl with an axe. If not, just skip ahead like one and a half minutes or so. Okay, the article reads a triple murder was committed by an insane man on Tuesday, December 17th, 7th, near Chester, Illinois. Louis Tockstein was adjudged insane and ordered to be sent to the Jacksonville asylum On Monday night the guards kept him at a hotel. Next morning when water was brought to him to wash, he dashed it in the guards faces, broke through the window of the room and ran away. About a quarter of a mile from the town is the house of Thomas Ryan, aged 68. His widowed daughter living with him with two children, a girl aged 12 and a boy younger. Entering this house naked, he ordered the inmates to kneel and pray as they had but a few minutes to live. All obeyed but the boy who escaped and alarmed the neighbors. When they reached the house they found Mr. Ryan and his daughter with their skull crushed by an axe and the headless body of the little girl lying on the floor. The maniac rushed on to the next house, swinging over his head the bloody head of the child he had murdered and finding only a servant girl ordering her to kneel. She screamed and as help arrived, he was overpowered and secured. He was taken to East St. Louis on his way to Jacksonville. End quote. Lucky for you, I found even more details about this story. Lewis had been raised Catholic, but was just beginning to try out other denominations of Christian faith. And as he did, his mental stability became more and more shaky. He wasn't acting violent yet, but he was said to have manic events where he would demand that people pray with him at inappropriate times and in inappropriate places. For example, he demanded that his two sisters kneel and pray in the middle of a street while he preached about the end of the world just a few days earlier. It was while he was doing this that he was originally arrested and judged to be insane, after which he was sent to an asylum in Jacksonville. The article mentioned mentions that he escaped after he was arrested and this was because he wasn't in the asylum yet. His guards held him overnight in a hotel on their way to the asylum, so he threw water in their faces and easily made his way out and to the home of the Ryan family. He became naked while looking for a nearby axe. He just started shedding his clothes. After he was caught for the murder, he told the police that he had to leave the hotel hotel because people were trying to rob him, only confirming his insanity. As if he needed any more confirmation. He told them that the Ryan's house was actually on fire and he saved them all and he was naked because the flames burned off his clothes. By this time the entire town had heard what happened and there was rapidly increasing talk of lynching. A mob was starting started, so the man was quickly escorted to a train that went straight to Jacksonville Asylum. Okay, I have one more horrible one before I have a simply fabulous one. This one is called Bloody Butchery. Indianapolis again takes her innings. A man nearly beheaded and it reads at Indianapolis, Indiana about 10:10pm Thursday night, January 15, the corner of first and Mississippi streets was made the scene of a most brutal murder. Louis Antinote A Frenchman killing Robert Evers, a young man but 22 years of age. William Loman, the only eyewitness to the bloody deed, made the following I met Kevvers downtown and walked up toward his home with him. He he and I being particular friends. He was not intoxicated when I met him and was perfectly sober at the time of the murder at Spandel's Saloon, no. 5, 47 N. Mississippi St. We stopped to get a glass of beer, and while there we met a man who killed Kevvers. A few minutes later. He was in the saloon when we entered and was standing at the bar taking a drink. We ordered a beer and drank at the bar also so. But did not have any trouble with the man at all. He went out before we did, and we followed a few minutes later, intending to go to Mr. Nilus's where Kevvers lived. And had just reached the corner when the man jumped out from behind a tree box and grabbed Kevvers by the throat, saying as he did so, aha. God damn you. I've got you now. And struck him with a knife. At first I was so surprised and scared that I couldn't do a thing. And did not recognize the man at first as the one we had seen in the saloon. When he struck him, Bob cried, I'm gone, Billy go. I am killed. And staggered and fell. As he staggered, his face turned so. The reflection of the street lamp on the corner opposite shone full upon it. And I saw the blood slow spurt from his mouth as much as 4ft. Before I could recover my senses, the man sprang at me with a knife. And as the reflection of the light fell upon his face, I recognized him as the man whom we had seen in the saloon. I ran down the street, and he followed me half a square before he stopped and turned back. The knife which the man struck Kevvers with was a butcher's knife 8 inches long. The knife entered the lower lip, cutting off four teeth ranging downward. Severed the carotid artery and the jugular vein, causing death almost instantly. Kevvers was young, 22 years old and unmarried. He kept a grocery on North Tennessee street and was generally regarded as quiet and peaceable, but went on occasional sprees. There's the great greatest excitement in the northern part of the city. And if the murderer could be got hold of, he would not be compelled to go through a tedious trial. End quote. That last sentence implies that the man got away afterwards, which he did. Here's some more information that I found. He went to the home of his employer, Frederick Grafenstein. This man told him to turn himself in, which he did. But on his way there, he was actually tackled by police who were already looking for him. When the cops were interviewing him, he had a different story than William Loman. William said that the incident was completely unprovoked, but Antonot said the two men were trying to make him pay for their beers in the saloon. And when he refused, they taunted and made fun of him for being a butcher. It's impossible to know what is actually true here, but Kevver, the murdered man, was also known around town to be a bit of a bully. Another article described him as being, quote, full of expressive bluster and made enemies thereby. End quote. But this could just be victim blaming. Who knows? No one knows. Antenot, on the other hand, was well known for his violence. His wife had divorced him for drunkenness and cruel treatment. He was arrested twice for assault. Antenot was tried for first degree murder and quickly convicted. He was sentenced to life imprisonment, although his attorney tried to get a new trial for him because the juror was asleep. During the defense's closing arguments, the juror denied that he was asleep and just said that his eyes were closed. He was, you know, concentrating really hard. The judge overturned the motion regardless, and he was sentenced. Although in 1889, nine years later, his sentence was reduced to 16 years because of good behavior and then further reduced to six years. So he was released just one year later, in 1890. Wild. Okay, after all of that butchery, this next one will get you into the Valentine's Day spirit. I think it's pretty fascinating. It is called Extraordinary Matrimonial Alliance. In Williamsburg, New York, a. A woman marries a woman. Exclamation point. The Unnatural Infatuation. A Mystery. The Courtship, Marriage, and Departure for China. That is the title and the article reads. For several days past, a rumor in circulation of the marriage of two women in Williamsburg has caused no little excitement and considerable gossip in certain circles in Williamsburg and New York City. Many doubted the report in toto, while others looked upon it as an idle joke perpetuated by someone to distract the public mind from matters of more importance. However, to put to rest all doubts on the subject, we dispatched a reporter who thoroughly worked up the case and came into the possession of particulars that unquestionably corroborate the stories afloat of the most unnatural infatuation on record. A criminal alliance not authorized by the laws of nature or man. The affair was conducted so secretly that by two persons beside the wedded couple were cognizant of the proceedings and by for a slight allusion for the sudden disappearance of the two principal actors made in presence of our reporter. The following revelation would never have been gained publicly meager as have been the means at our disposal. We have succeeded in tracing this strange affair to the actual facts without indulging in theories or suppositions. Merely suppressing the real names of the participants. We give a brief recital of the history of these two women which will be of interest to our readers. Like. Okay, we get it, guy. You don't understand. What? What's going on? Just get to the point. It continues. Molly Rogers, the husband, question mark, formerly worked as a waiter girl at the Louvre Salon, Broadway and 22nd Street, New York. Little is known of Lena. She's aged about 22 years, dark complexion, small features, and a petite but well developed figure. Okay. Since her acquaintance with Molly, she has been seen but seldom and is supposed that Rogers's means have provided for both, thereby obviating the necessity of her going out to work. This strange and unnatural marriage was consummated just four weeks ago at the house of Molly's mother in Williamsburg, New York. We suppress the name of the clergyman who officiated, who we assume acted in good faith, and united two persons whom he supposed to be man and woman. The mother of Rogers stood up in the capacity of bridesmaid, but we were unable to get the name of the groomsman. Molly was dressed in the male attire and the bride was arrayed in a traveling costume. At the conclusion of the ceremonies, the loving couple came to New York, where they remained a day, and then sailed for China. A scene that transpired just before the couple sailed shows that they there may be more people of the same kind in the world. Among those to bid them good bye was a lady who boarded in the same house as Lina. The above is a correct account of this extraordinary sensation. And although it may appear unnatural to the reader, it is none the less true in every particular whether whether this is another species of woman's rights or a practical illustration of the affinity doctrine as promulgated by such free lovers as Woodhull, Tilton and others are enigmas we prefer to leave to our readers for solution. Suffice it to say that we are in possession of facts that remove the mystery enveloping these strange people. But we have published all that we can with propriety. The rest can be better imagined than described. End quote. Okay, I had to trim some of that article because the quote unquote reporter just couldn't wrap his mind around any of this and constantly repeated himself and went as deep as he could into their personal lives. And even though these women are long dead, I still don't want to share their personal info. It may not even be true to begin with. Let's be honest before we talk about what it was like to be a lesbian in the 1800s. When the reporter speaks of the affinity doctrine promulgated by such free lovers as Woodhull, Tilton and others, he's speaking about Victoria Woodhull. She was an American leader of the women's suffrage movement as well as a supporter of, quote unquote, free love. That was a belief that people don't need to marry to be in loving relationships. Elizabeth Tilton, who's also mentioned this woman, was also a major supporter of the women's suffrage movement. So the reporter is just trying to throw an umbrella over women's desires for the right to vote and the unnatural desires of women wanting to have relationships with one another. And it's kind of fascinating to think that in the 19th century, despite this guy's flabbergast at the subject, lesbian relationships were actually allowed to thrive thanks to his kind of misogyny. Not until the sexual revolution of, like the 1920s, when women were beginning to own their sexuality in ways that they never were allowed to before. It was believed that women didn't have sexuality or sexual desire unless they were sex workers or morally corrupt. Women didn't enjoy sex, only whores enjoyed sex. Women were for sex, nothing but the objects of men's desire. And it was this bullcrap that actually enabled same sex relationships between women to fly almost, almost entirely under the radar. They couldn't live openly and freely in society at large as lovers, but you'd be fascinated to know exactly how they did. In Victorian society, it was expected and admired that women in high society kept themselves away from men entirely to protect, you know, their purity. It was also socially virtuous that she have close female companions, kisses and caresses between women in public places wasn't at all taboo. We see this in fine art of the day. Women draped upon other women, sitting closely, holding hands, arm in arm, or just hanging out entirely naked together. It was indeed fine art. Apart from these images catering to male fantasies, they really did represent how women were with one another of the age, whether they were gay or straight. In a time when women primarily needed the salary of a man to survive, it was understandable. When widows, for example, needed to combine their meager livings as seamstresses or laundry maids with other women to house themselves. If a woman was old enough to leave her family home, but not quite ready to do her womanly duty and give her life to a gentleman, she may move in with a close female companion or companions in the same position. So many women lived together without the slightest suspicion of anything else going on other than heterosexual companionship and it's also fascinating to know that Valentine's Day was very much considered a day not necessarily just for straight couples, but as a celebration of female companionship. It was very common, common for this day to be used among female students to write poetry for their older female, quote, unquote crushes, so to speak. It was a tradition for the ladies of Vassar College in 1888 to send other ladies elaborately decorated valentines that included loving, admiring, carefully written poetry. They would escort each other to the same sex dances. They would share tokens of affection, including candy and flowers. The ladies would save these tokens by pasting them into scrapbooks, hanging them on their walls between classes. They delighted in reading the valentines aloud to one another and guessing who the anonymously sent ones were from. The senior at Vassar who received the most valentines was crowned the Queen of Hearts. These were examples of how female Victorian religion relationships were expected to be full of sentiment and affection. And I know it may sound strange, like, here's an example of a valentine sent from one freshman girl at Vassar to another gal. It reads, quote, I love thee, though I know thee not, for fair thou art, and pure and ever happy would be my lot if I could thee but lure again, this was time when women wouldn't even be considered to be sexually attracted to one another. Just admiring the more lovable ladies most capable of winning men's affection for being so virtuous and beautiful. And in most cases, this was entirely platonic. What woman among us hasn't had a girl crush? Like, I love a lovely lady myself, but all sexuality side some girls I just get glittery over because they're so cool. Like, I made a new friend recently and we hit it off immediately. She's a friend of a friend. And instantly I was like, I need. I need you to be in my life. I love your clothes and I love your hair, and I aspire to be as cool and smart as you. And I got a little nervous about asking her to come to my, like, little coven circles. Like, what if she said no? I would be so sad. But she came and now she comes to all of them and she invites me to cool things and I just have glitter for her, no other aspirations. So I think that we can all understand why these platonic, affectionate relationships were able to flourish in a society that didn't believe that good women wanted sex from anyone at all, male or female. Only they did, very much. And although it is difficult to find outright examples of public lesbian relationships of the time, examples of Lesbian like relationships of this time abound. Many women formed domestic partnerships not just because they needed to support themselves, but they were very much in loving lesbian relationships which were called Boston marriages. This term became associated with Henry James's 1886 novel called the Bostonians, involving a long term cohabitating relationship between two unmarried women. There was also another term used at Wellesley College, simply Wellesley marriages. A number of female faculty at Wellesley lived together in long term loving relationships and were open about it among themselves. It was only at about the turn of the century when the term lesbian, which was already being used in the late 1800s, was starting to make the patriarchy a little nervous. Changing attitudes about female sexuality were starting just now to blossom. And the very idea that a woman would choose another woman, women to share physical pleasure with was simply a threat. It is not a coincidence again that that reporter of that last article linked women's fights for suffrage independence with the idea of women independently choosing one another over men. In the early 1900s, advice column writers began warning about same sex relationships as they posed a threat not just to to heterosexual relationships and the institution of marriage, but the social order itself. This is when women were encouraged to stop being so affectionate with one another. Vassar, a female college that was still run by men, stopped all same sex Valentine's Day events. Young women began to see their more affectionate feelings for other ladies as foolish and embarrassing. Lesbian homophobia was born. And just like gay men, who had always been forced to live entirely in the shadows, any affectionate female relationship was beginning to become suspect. And you may not think that celebrating Galentine's Day today with your girlfriends is such a revolutionary act, but this celebration in many ways shows, I think, just how far we've come. Just like in days of yore, it's a day to celebrate the love that you have for your ladies. But now your femmes, gay or straight. And if anyone presumes anything other than platonic love among your lady friends, I think most of us would agree, who cares? I think that there is a very important evolution to be found there. And I really hope to see a revolution of Palantine's Day celebrations in years to come where men can feel just as open and delighted to share the platonic love that they have for their bros, gay or straight. I wish that very much. Okay, finally, Valentines aren't just for lesbians. It's the 1900s. They were for people that you hated too. Before we go, I want to share a few Victorian what were called vinegar Valentines. And apart from the horrifying illustrations from the articles that I read earlier. I'll put some of these on the Instagram too. In today's Episodes post that you have to see a couple of episodes back in the Killed by a Coffin episode, episode 19, I read an article about a guy that killed another guy after he was sent a very insulting valentine. The article was called Crime of a Jealous the Sing Sing Tragedy. Lewenberger, the murderer in court with a bullet in his brain. Victorians didn't just love writing flowery love poetry, they loved telling people off in his flowery language as well. Not their own significant others necessarily, but anyone that they didn't like. And just like the insane Christmas cards of the day which I talk about in episode 22, these Valentines were just as creative. I found some great ones. There's one for a saleslady that you don't like. It says sales lady as you wait upon the women with disgust upon your face. The way you say snap and bark at them, one would think you owned the place. Oh, and one for the mouthy suffragette in your life. This one reads, quote to a suffragette valentine, your vote from me you will not get. I don't want a preaching suffragette. End quote. As if she wanted anything to do with you anyway, pal. There's one here, from a woman to an unwanted suitor that reads, you ask to see me home, kind sir, I thank you, but decline. One beau is quite enough for me. I'm satisfied with mine. You need not sit upon the fence and see me going by. I cannot give you such a chance. There now, dear me, don't cry. Also rather presumptuous, madam. Oh, oh. And I've often talked about the hatred of surgeons in the 1800s, whether by people who were disgusted at how they accepted stolen bodies from grave robbers, to folks who thought that cutting up bodies after death was a way of preventing them from rising from the dead on Judgment Day to inherit the earth. Or just those deeply skeptical of surgical science and generally disgusted by anyone who would want to cut up a body for any reason. They're There's a vinegar valentine for the surgeon in your life, and it's awesome. It's a figure with a big skeleton head holding a bag of sharp tools, and it says, to the surgeon, ho ho, old sawbones, here you come. Yes, when the rebels whack us, you are always ready with your traps to mangle, saw and hack us. I don't know exactly what time this particular one was from, but it could be the civil war era and the rebels may be referring to the Confederates, basically saying, you surgeon, are just as much of a monster as the people that we're at war with. Oh, and there's another really rad looking one of a big skeleton head coming out of a coffin with a shovel next to it. And it's for a doctor. It reads quote, you're only a fake, you ignorant knave. You never saved anyone yet from the grave. When a man is your patient, he's plundered in purse and stands a good chance for a ride in a hearse. You gotta see that one. It's on the Instagram. Okay, just one more. I like this one. It's straight to the point. It says, tis a lemon that I hand you and bid you now skadoo because I love another. There is no chance for you. Aw, that one hurts. Okay, one more thing before we go. As I mentioned on this week's Dark Poetry podcast, I read dark and eerie love poetry from the Victorian era's most dark and eerie poets, but I wanted to include one of the poems here from that episode. My third episode was about the death of Edgar Allan Poe, and I read some of his poetry as well as his wife's poetry that she wrote to him shortly before she died. But I had just recently ended a long term relationship when I recorded that episode, and I frankly couldn't get through all of Annabel Lee without crying. So I just read a few excerpts, but I was finally able to get through the whole thing almost. This time I had to do a few takes of just a few lines. But for Valentine's Day, I would love to share with you one of the very most beautiful love poems of all, Edgar Allan Poe's Annabel Lee.