Strange Times 112: Doughboys Like Sweets
Strange Times is a newsletter that explores the weirdest news of 1921, one day at a time. If you like it, you will probably like Westside Saints, my latest Jazz Age mystery novel, as well.
Today we’ll meet murderous Frenchmen, pudding-mad doughboys, forgetful sheriffs, and a chiropractor who cannot be trusted. Insure your friends and then poison them on…
April 22, 1921
After an outbreak of bubonic plague in Alexandra that’s seen thirty-five new cases reported daily, the city is put under quarantine.
While being hoisted to the eleventh floor of a Fourth Avenue lithograph factory, an embossing machine weighing four tons plummets to the earth, smashing a hole the size of a coal truck through the sidewalk and, improbably, injuring no one.
On trial for defaming the German army, a cult of Dadaists responds that the German people “lack a sense of humor.”
The Weather: Showers today and Saturday; increasing south and southwest winds.
In case you’re wondering, the Landru mentioned in the lede was the inspiration for Chaplin’s Monsieur Verdoux. Girard is not famous, but was unquestionably a jerk.
PARIS, April 21.—After three years of investigation of the charges against him the French Magistrate in charge of his case has sent to trial Henry Girard, who, in the annals of French crime, may merit a title greater than that of Landru.…
Girard was a poisoner. He first insured his victims and then poisoned them. But he did not use any old-fashioned methods. He invited them to luncheon and gave them a dish of mushrooms or a cocktail in which he had carefully mixed a culture of typhoid germs. In four cases he succeeded in drawing for himself or his accomplices large sums of money from insurance companies, after having so scientifically done to death the policy holder.
The work of examining the charges against him has been long and complicated. Several bacteriologists have been employed on the case and the bodies of several of Girard’s victims have had to be exhumed. Three cases described in the Magistrate’s report serve to show how Girard worked.
In 1912 Girard persuaded his friend Pernotte to insure his life in his, Girard’s, favor for 120,000 francs. Soon afterward Pernotte and his whole family fell ill of typhoid. When they were convalescent Girard called to see his friend and gave him an injection which he said was certain to cure him. Pernotte died and Girard pocketed the insurance money.
Another friend, Duroux, also insured himself for 20,000 francs in Girard’s favor. A few weeks later Girard asked his friend to dine with him and his wife. In Girard’s diary occurs the entry: “Duroux to dinner, mushrooms.” The maids who gave evidence declared that Girard told them not to touch the dish in which the mushrooms were served, and that he washed it himself later with antiseptics. Duroux seems to have had a charmed life, for he did not fall sick, and Girard had to ask him to drink an aperitif some days later. “Symptoms of poisoning,” is the doctor’s succinct report.
Another dinner party Girard gave resulted in his netting 40,000 francs, but it also resulted in his arrest. In April, 1918, his mistress insured herself with three separate companies in the name of a certain Mme. Monin. On the 13th of the month they invited Mme. Monin to dinner, and the same evening she expired in agony. The next day Girard demanded the payment of the insurance, but one of the companies concerned became suspicious and asked an inquiry. It resulted in the arrest of Girard, his wife, his mistress and two other accomplices, who will all now come up for trial. When the police searched Girard’s apartment they found it well stocked with medical books, studies on mushrooms and cultures of typhoid bacilli.
It’s hard to get an idea of just how impressive these statistics are, since we aren’t told how many doughboys were present, but if we assume every doughboy had two eggs for breakfast, these fighting lads averaged over 20 desserts per day. America!
COBLENZ, April 21.—American soldiers, whose predilection for sweets has often caused Frenchmen to gasp with amazement, are still world champions in this respect, it is shown by figures compiled at the Cafeteria, the largest restaurant in Coblenz under the management of the Y.M.C.A.
During the last year, American doughboys ate at that restaurant alone 233,138 puddings, 475,843 tarts and cakes, 310,874 cookies and doughnuts, 63,151 cream puffs and eclairs, 624,906 dishes of ice cream, 366,351 chocolate sundaes, 61,378 pies, 223,787 apples and other fruit, 282,741 glasses of lemonade and 43,792 oranges. Eggs were also “played across the board,” the total number consumed being 211,195.
This story is a shock happy ending to a story first shared in Strange Times 41, all the way back in 2018. (Remember 2018? Neither do I.) Just a quick reminder that whether it’s this year or two years ago or 99 years in the past, the law should not be allowed to kill.
SHREVEPORT, La., April 21.—The death sentence of Lonnie Eaton, the negro the Sheriff of Ouachita Parish forgot about when the day set for Eaton’s hanging came around last month, has been commuted by the State Pardon Board to life imprisonment, according to reports received here today from Baton Rouge.
Eaton was convicted of murder several months ago and was brought from Ouachita Parish to the Caddo Parish jail for safe keeping. Governor Parker set the date for the hanging, but the Sheriff forgot all about it until the legal date had passed. As he afterward wrote to Governor Parker, he was so busy with other affairs in his office that he forgot the day that he was to hang Eaton.
So much good stuff here, but my favorite part is when the ultra slick con artist/spiritualist/chiropractor just snatches his mark’s purse and refuses to give it back. Very sneaky, dude.
NEW BRUNSWICK, N.J., April 21.—“Professor” E.I. Bagonyer of Milltown was arrested today on a warrant charging that he practiced witchcraft. Mrs. Hilda Hobshoit of New Brunswick asserted that she visited Bagonyer’s home and that he “put her under a spell by his supernatural powers with the aid of sacred images on an altar in the house.”
She said that “she was given a box of powder which, he promised, would bring her additional good luck; that she paid $5 for the powder, and that Bagonyer grabbed her pocketbook containing $13, which he refused to give back.”
Patrolman Frank Kirby went to the professor’s home in plain clothes and was mistaken for a patron, he says.
“Keep smiling,” he quoted the professor as saying as he entered, “and I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life.”
Justice of the Peace Charles W. Sedam, who issued the warrant, held Bangonyer in $1,000 bail.
Bagonyer declared that he never charged for his services. His house was used by some thirty-five spiritualists for meetings twice a week. He followed ritualistic church practices to a certain extent, he said, and on his altar are statues of St. Joseph, St. Anthony, St. John, the Virgin Mary and the Sacred Heart of Jesus. He is a chiropractor but has not practiced since he became a spiritualist.