A Hundred Years of Rip and Roarin Rough and Ready By Andy Rogers (1952)(Hathitrust) (117 pages)

me em ee band, a man named Hull, who had the nerve to propose to her and the misfortune to be accepted by her. From California, she made the voyage to Australia, at that time a long and tedious trip in a sailing ship. At Melbourne she gave an entertainment for the benefit of the wounded British soldiers, engaged in the siege of Sebastopol. It was after these California and Australian trips that she again returned to the eastern side of the rockies, where, as I stated in a former paper, she delivered lectures on a variety of subjects and topics, under the management of Mr. Chauncey y Cc. Burr, and a brother of his, She subsequently visited England again, where she also lectured, whether under her own or the management of Mr. Burr, I do not know. However, again, in the autumn of 1859, she returned to the United States, landing in New York, where she soon died. I believe she lies buried in the celebrated Greenwood Cene-. tery, Brooklyn. The many adventures, major and minor, and the wild career of this phenomenal woman are almost without a parallel. She has been commonly credited with extraordinary degree of intellectual ability. I am exceedingly skeptical. My impression of her was that she was a bundle of pretenses. She would talk on any subject with the apparent assurance that she knew all about it, though at times exhibiting an utter ignorance thereof. Ido that-she. had. the slightest idé6a of what honesty and conscience were, if they stood tn~ f Her desires and ambitions. She virtually made a mock of them. The world was her oyster and she was bound to Open and eat it, no matter who or what stood in her way. She was to me a woman of such dangerous character and quality, that she should have been separated from all society, for the reason that she was necessarily boun to contaminate the pure, virtuous and good I, therein. An Old Timer. Another Letter 14th, January 1861 Dr. Cooper Dear Sir: Not having had a line from my daughter, or Mrs. Buchanan since I left New York, and being most anxious to hear how your patient, Mrs. Gilbert progresses, induces me to trouble you with a few lines. I hope you will kindly excuse the trouble I am giving you, but from no one could I get such replyable information regarding her state of health as from you. I was well satisfied at your judicious treatment of her, and considered her proyziping most favourably when I left New York. In a conversation I had with you one day, you said she had what is called Softening of the Brain, is this still your opinion, or has she got over it, and what does she now suffer from. I am in hopes the quiet and rest she will have through the winter will do much in restoring her to health. You will very much oblige by giving me all the particulars you can regarding her. My journey to New York and back so soon, and other things, while there upset me very much, and I have been very far from well since my return. I was very sorry I did not see you the day before I left as I expected and wished, I would have been glad to have had a little private conversation with you. I wish this letter to be private and confidential. I never experienced so severe a Winter as Google is. I feel the cold very very much, the mildest winter upsets me. My letters to me daughter have been inclosed to Mr. Buchanan. Will you kindly give me his Christian name. I fear my letters may not have been properly directed. With best wishes, believe me dear sir to be Very truly yours Eliza Craigie ; P.S. My direction is ' Mrs. Craigie, care of Mrs. Scott Bell . London, England P.S. After my letter was sealed, I received ' a few lines from irs. Buchanan. I open it to give you an stract from it -I should have written to you before this had I anything new to communicate. Your daughter is recovering her health fast she is now able to walk alone with very little lameness, and looks in better health than I have ever seen her. Mrs. Hamilton is very attentive and she appreciates all the comforts she receives from her. Soon after you left I thought it prudent to call in a consulting physician, feeling the great responsibility resting on me. She drives out in a carriage once a week and enjoys it very much. In Mrs. Buchanan's letter to me there is no mention made of you which surprises not a little. I put my direction on this as in opening my letter, I find it a little defaced. Mrs. Craigie (Lola's mother, who Lola did not want to see.) From a Newspaper Clipping: An old one. "A Meteor of 01d New York" The True Story of the Death of the Famous Lola Montez. ae the editor of the Sun Tr In Sunday's Sun the writer of a story relating to the once world-famed Lola Montez declared that Mile. hiontez died in a private sanitarium at Astoria. This is an error which appears in nearly all the encyclopedjas and reference books. I knew Lola Montez personally during neerly all her entire residence in America. She did not die in “penury" nor in a "“tenement" house. Bishop Horatio Potter of New York City and the eminent Rev. Dr. Francis L. Hawks of Calvary P.E. Church placed Lola Montez in a first-class boarding house on West Seventeenth Street. Between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, at that time a fine residential section. These noted churchmen frequently called on Lola, prayed with her, and read the scriptures to her, all at her request during her last illness of five weeks. In that house she died. The following record, transcribed from the Board of Health, New York City, bears out my statement: "Eliza Gilbert, died Jan. 17, 1861, aged 42 years; widow, Born in Limerick, Ireland. Place of death; 194 ‘lest Seventeenth St. Cause of death: Pneumonia. Undertaker, Isaac « Brown, Grace Churoh. eceased also known as "Lola Montez." rn When we examined her effects we found $1,247 to her credit in two New York City saving banks, and the money was used to pay her physician and the undertaker, and to provide a burial plot in Summit Ridge, Greenwood Cemetery, Brooklyn, where her friends erected an Italian marble slab over her remains, inscribed as follows: Mrs. Eliza Gilbert; died Jan. 17, 1861. age 42. — — 78

me em ee band, a man named Hull, who had the nerve to propose to her and the misfortune to be accepted by her. From California, she made the voyage to Australia, at that time a long and tedious trip in a sailing ship. At Melbourne she gave an entertainment for the benefit of the wounded British soldiers, engaged in the siege of Sebastopol. It was after these California and Australian trips that she again returned to the eastern side of the rockies, where, as I stated in a former paper, she delivered lectures on a variety of subjects and topics, under the management of Mr. Chauncey y Cc. Burr, and a brother of his, She subsequently visited England again, where she also lectured, whether under her own or the management of Mr. Burr, I do not know. However, again, in the autumn of 1859, she returned to the United States, landing in New York, where she soon died. I believe she lies buried in the celebrated Greenwood Cene-. tery, Brooklyn. The many adventures, major and minor, and the wild career of this phenomenal woman are almost without a parallel. She has been commonly credited with extraordinary degree of intellectual ability. I am exceedingly skeptical. My impression of her was that she was a bundle of pretenses. She would talk on any subject with the apparent assurance that she knew all about it, though at times exhibiting an utter ignorance thereof. Ido that-she. had. the slightest idé6a of what honesty and conscience were, if they stood tn~ f Her desires and ambitions. She virtually made a mock of them. The world was her oyster and she was bound to Open and eat it, no matter who or what stood in her way. She was to me a woman of such dangerous character and quality, that she should have been separated from all society, for the reason that she was necessarily boun to contaminate the pure, virtuous and good I, therein. An Old Timer. Another Letter 14th, January 1861 Dr. Cooper Dear Sir: Not having had a line from my daughter, or Mrs. Buchanan since I left New York, and being most anxious to hear how your patient, Mrs. Gilbert progresses, induces me to trouble you with a few lines. I hope you will kindly excuse the trouble I am giving you, but from no one could I get such replyable information regarding her state of health as from you. I was well satisfied at your judicious treatment of her, and considered her proyziping most favourably when I left New York. In a conversation I had with you one day, you said she had what is called Softening of the Brain, is this still your opinion, or has she got over it, and what does she now suffer from. I am in hopes the quiet and rest she will have through the winter will do much in restoring her to health. You will very much oblige by giving me all the particulars you can regarding her. My journey to New York and back so soon, and other things, while there upset me very much, and I have been very far from well since my return. I was very sorry I did not see you the day before I left as I expected and wished, I would have been glad to have had a little private conversation with you. I wish this letter to be private and confidential. I never experienced so severe a Winter as Google

is. I feel the cold very very much, the mildest winter upsets me. My letters to me daughter have been inclosed to Mr. Buchanan. Will you kindly give me his Christian name. I fear my letters may not have been properly directed. With best wishes, believe me dear sir to be Very truly yours Eliza Craigie ; P.S. My direction is ' Mrs. Craigie, care of Mrs. Scott Bell . London, England P.S. After my letter was sealed, I received ' a few lines from irs. Buchanan. I open it to give you an stract from it -I should have written to you before this had I anything new to communicate. Your daughter is recovering her health fast she is now able to walk alone with very little lameness, and looks in better health than I have ever seen her. Mrs. Hamilton is very attentive and she appreciates all the comforts she receives from her. Soon after you left I thought it prudent to call in a consulting physician, feeling the great responsibility resting on me. She drives out in a carriage once a week and enjoys it very much. In Mrs. Buchanan's letter to me there is no mention made of you which surprises not a little. I put my direction on this as in opening my letter, I find it a little defaced. Mrs. Craigie (Lola's mother, who Lola did not want to see.) From a Newspaper Clipping: An old one. "A Meteor of 01d New York" The True Story of the Death of the Famous Lola Montez. ae the editor of the Sun Tr In Sunday's Sun the writer of a story relating to the once world-famed Lola Montez declared that Mile. hiontez died in a private sanitarium at Astoria. This is an error which appears in nearly all the encyclopedjas and reference books. I knew Lola Montez personally during neerly all her entire residence in America. She did not die in “penury" nor in a "“tenement" house. Bishop Horatio Potter of New York City and the eminent Rev. Dr. Francis L. Hawks of Calvary P.E. Church placed Lola Montez in a first-class boarding house on West Seventeenth Street. Between Seventh and Eighth Avenues, at that time a fine residential section. These noted churchmen frequently called on Lola, prayed with her, and read the scriptures to her, all at her request during her last illness of five weeks. In that house she died. The following record, transcribed from the Board of Health, New York City, bears out my statement: "Eliza Gilbert, died Jan. 17, 1861, aged 42 years; widow, Born in Limerick, Ireland. Place of death; 194 ‘lest Seventeenth St. Cause of death: Pneumonia. Undertaker, Isaac « Brown, Grace Churoh. eceased also known as "Lola Montez." rn When we examined her effects we found $1,247 to her credit in two New York City saving banks, and the money was used to pay her physician and the undertaker, and to provide a burial plot in Summit Ridge, Greenwood Cemetery, Brooklyn, where her friends erected an Italian marble slab over her remains, inscribed as follows: Mrs. Eliza Gilbert; died Jan. 17, 1861. age 42. — — 78