The Magnetic Eye Cleaner

Riding in open motorcars back in the early 1900s, people tended to get a lot of dust and grit in their eyes. And steel and emery, too, apparently.

So the Novel-Idea Company invented this Magnetic Eye Cleaner, which you would pass over your eyelid in the hope that it would (somehow) get the bits out of your eye.

They have made it look rather like a magician's tool. But even though it was so exotic-looking, and came in a leather case, I would not have wanted to use this thing - would you?

From Popular Mechanics, March 1909.

Diploma In Parlor

Lady Gonzales was a late Victorian clairvoyant working in Brooklyn, a rival of Countess Habeba's. She sometimes worked with an assistant, "Mme Sabina, the great palmist," with whom she advertised in 1899 (the ad on the right is from 1901).

Lady Gonzalez had a diploma from the mysterious College of Science*, in the parlor for all to admire (perhaps the face-in-hand was the school crest). She charged four cents a question (three questions maximum) and gave, in return, detailed answers with "full names," a lucky birthstone and a horoscope.

But like Countess Habeba, Lady Gonzalez had a true name that was far more mundane. She was a lady named Amelia Phelps whose other job was running an employment and training center out of her home, the Young Girls' Home, where "ladies can obtain first class servants." Mrs. Phelps ran the Home in the late 1890s, at the same time as she worked as Lady Gonzalez. Both gave the same address - 236 Bergen Street, near Nevins.

In 1897, in the "Clairvoyants" column of the Eagle, there was an ad for Mme Gonzalez, for a Mme Zingarra of 236 Bergen, and for the Young Girls' Home employment agency, also at 236 Bergen. Mme Zingarra, a "world renowned palmist," may have been another name for Mme Sabina - whoever she really was. It must have been an interesting place to live.

Notes On Follow-Ups and Other Future Posts:

I was amused and intrigued to see, in the 1897 column, a large ad for a Mrs. Hicks, "scientific palmist," at 97 Duffield Street - Hicks, as many readers will already know, was my grandmother's surname. She was born in Brooklyn in 1889, and had many unusual relatives. So I am definitely going to check up on this Mrs. Hicks!

*The College of Science was a tremendous scam run by "Dr" Theodore White of Baltimore, who was sentenced to 3 years in prison in 1906 for his fraudulent activities. He and the College deserve their own post; I've begun the research for it, and will write it up over the next week.

**And I haven't forgotten about Fred Bell and the wrongful death case, either. It is also in the works. Stay tuned.

Sources

Amelia Phelps in the 1897 Lain's Brooklyn City Directory, transcribed here at the Brooklyn Genealogy Information Page.

Ads from the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

December 5, 1897, p. 10. (Gonzalez ad followed directly by Young Girls' Home ad, and by Mrs. Hicks)
August 8, 1899, p. 11.
October 5, 1899, p. 10.
November 24, 1901, p. 28.

Victorian Talking Head

Nowadays when someone mentions the phrase "talking head," one either thinks of a TV expert or the 1980s band Talking Heads. But back in the 1840s, you might think instead of the lady on the left.

Phineas T. Barnum, the great Victorian showman, was delighted with his Talking Machine, though it was not one of his more popular exhibitions. I don't know why, exactly - perhaps it was too bizarre an experience for most people, to type letters and make a large head talk. It did have one eminent fan, though, as you will see.

The Automaton consisted of an artifical woman's head in a box frame, attached to a keyboard. When the keys were pressed, the head appeared to speak words and phrases. It was called the "Automaton Speaker." Barnum wrote in his autobiography that it had been invented by "an elderly and ingenious" German named Faber.

Barnum showed this machine along with other curiosities at Egyptian Hall, London in 1844. Egyptian Hall, in Piccadilly, had been built in 1812 and was used for art exhibits and entertainments of various kinds. By the late Victorian period it was used mainly for Spiritualist and magical performances and exhibits.

When the Duke of Wellington visited this exhibit, he was convinced that a ventriloquist was providing the voice of the machine. But when he tried the keys for himself, and was able to make the head speak in English and German thereby, he was pleased. Wellington then wrote in the exhibitor's autograph book that he was very impressed, after all.


Sources:

Phineas T. Barnum, The Life of P.T. Barnum (1855), p. 135.

Mathew Brady's 1865 photograph is from Picture History.

Poster of Egyptian Hall courtesy of the British Library.

Picture of exterior of Egyptian Hall from Wikipedia.

Electricity In Tabloid Form

The fountain of youth? Forget about it! What you really want is a battery in a "polished metal case" - and soon you will morph into an 8 year old girl.

The phrase "electricity in tabloid form" refers to the electrical power being condensed, as per the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, see here.

You can also use this battery for "Electric Baths" and "Beauty Massage" - both of which sound rather terrifying, the former in particular. Taking a battery into a bathtub will not give you vitality and new life - and even that girl in the picture knows that. She is looking mighty cynical about the whole thing, anyway, come to think of it.

From Popular Mechanics, March 1909.

The British Ministerial Freak

The last time we looked at Fred Bell, Singing Preacher and ex-pugilist with an eye for women, he was in trouble in Brooklyn in the late 1870s. He went back to England after his trouble with Mary Morris, where he soon became embroiled in another incident, this time involving the female servants of a friend of his.

He was still in England in 1881, married to his second wife, Annie Jane Gatenby (who described herself on the 1881 census as an "Authoress"). He had founded his own Church of the People, in Nottingham, and did well there until "a fresh scandal with his cook" arose. He returned to the US with "a woman not his wife," sometime in the mid-1880s, while Annie Jane stayed in England.

You will not be at all surprised to learn that he soon found himself in more trouble. By this time he was also calling himself "Professor" Frederick Bell, presumably in between pastoral appointments. He was in Lima, Ohio and in San Francisco, for brief sojourns. By 1889, he was established in Columbus, Ohio.

In Columbus, Bell had been pastor of the Central Christian Church, about 1888. He soon was "expelled" or "allowed to resign" - it is not clear which, in late 1888 or early 1889. The church elders met with Bell and said that they were concerned about stories that were beginning to reach them. One of them, Elder Flinn, said he had evidence to prove Bell was "a first-class fraud," at which point Bell grabbed Flinn by the throat and started choking him. Not surprisingly, this did not encourage the church elders to keep him on.

Bell stayed in Columbus through the spring of 1889, preaching in "one of the opera houses" on Sundays. He had done this in Brooklyn after he was expelled from the Park Avenue Primitive Methodist Church, too, preaching at the Academy of Music.

The New York Times reported that while he was in Columbus, he was attempting to divorce Annie Jane, whom he had "abandoned" in England. She, however, had "checkmated" Fred and filed for divorce herself.

The Rev. Thomas E. Foster of Columbus, who was a Methodist like Bell, disliked him very much. Foster had even written to Annie Jane "to get her side of the story." Foster promptly gave her information to the local paper. Bell was not happy. He mentioned, in his Sunday performance, that "he knew something about Mr. Foster that would not look well in print."

Foster retaliated by having something else printed in the paper about Bell, calling him "the British ministerial freak." This article repeated Annie Jane's charges and also hinted that Bell was courting a young lady in Columbus. The article also hinted that (as the New York Times put it) "Bell could not hope to win the confidence of people so long as he courted the applause of disreputable women and drank beer with them."

Matters came to a head on May 28, 1889. Bell was on a streetcar when he saw Foster in a carriage heading in the other direction. Bell jumped off the streetcar and ran after the carriage, shouting "I'll do you in the neck."

Foster grabbed a piece of roofing iron he had with him (!!)* and got ready to fight Bell. The horse, not surprisingly, was very upset and ran off. But the horse stopped a few blocks away and Bell overtook Foster's carriage, prepared for a pugilistic event. Luckily for Foster, a policeman was nearby and arrested Bell. Bell was taken to prison and released on $10 bail. I don't know whether this incident involved any jail time or fines for Bell. It probably did. Some day I will get hold of the Columbus newspapers and find out. Until then, we'll assume that he got out of this mess, as he usually did, by leaving town.

Bell kept a reasonably low profile for a few years after this - until 1895, to be exact. That is the year in which he was at the center of the most serious trouble he had ever been in - the tragic death of a woman named Emily Hall.

[To be continued]

*Unfortunately it is not clear why Foster was lugging roofing iron around; he may have been aware that Bell, who was not above choking a church elder, might be looking for him.

SOURCES

Image from the Columbus Dispatch, of a streetcar in that city in the 19th century.

"A Street Encounter Between Two Ministers," New York Times, May 28, 1889, p. 1.
"Preachers Come to Blows," Brooklyn Daily Eagle, May 29, 1889, p. 1

Countess Habeba

Here is Countess Habeba, a "genuine Persian gypsy," ready to "reveal astonishing facts" and make "truthful predictions." In the 1890s and early 1900s she was very well known as a fortune teller in Brooklyn and at Coney Island. Her address (which didn't fit in the scan) in this January 1901 ad was "Parlors, 247 Duffield St, 2 Flights Up, Opposite Bauland's."

Countess Habeba was neither a countess nor a Persian gypsy. She was the wife of a traveling salesman, named Mary Kroeger. Their address was given in the Eagle (in reference to a robbery in 1901 at the Kroegers') as 247 Duffield Street, matching that of Habeba. The article about the robbery also mentions that Mary Kroeger was the clarvoyant Habeba (which was very helpful!).

Countess Habeba not only predicted the future but made lucky things happen, such as "speedy marriages." If you were a "gent" wanting lucky marriage, though, you paid twice the ladies' fee. In a November 1901 advertisement, Habeba's address is given as 487 Fulton Street in downtown Brooklyn - conveniently opposite Abraham and Straus' department store, so you could get in a little shopping, too.

An 1896 ad in the Eagle states that on Sundays she was "at her magnificent Oriental gypsy encampment, Coney Island, adjoining New Iron Pier." In August 1897, "Mary Habeba" and six other fortune tellers were arrested at Coney Island for "violating the Criminal Code," and all were held for $300 bail. But Habeba returned to her fortunes soon thereafter, and flourished. In 1900 the following ad appeared in the Eagle:

Several respectable middle-aged women to work with and assist fortune-tellers at Coney Island on Sundays; must have experience and quick workers. Call Saturday afternoon at Countess HABEBA's gypsy encampment, adjoining New Iron Pier.

Clearly, her arrest had not frightened the Countess, as this seems to be a casting call for shills in a large scam operation. It is likely that the encampment burned in the terrible 1911 fire at nearby Dreamland, which spread to the Iron Pier and other structures as well.


SOURCES

Brooklyn Daily Eagle classified ads: May 24, 1896, p. 23 [mentions Coney Island encampment]; June 24, 1900 [want ad for women to work at encampment]; Nov. 24, 1901, p. 28; Jan. 13, 1901, p. 36 [ad pictured above].

"Reforming Coney Island," New York Times, Aug. 19, 1897, p. 10.

"Suspected of Many Jobs," Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 19, 1902, p. 1. [Kroegers were robbed; sotry calls her "Countess Habeba, wife of Theodore Kroeger, a traveling salesman, of 247 Duffield Street"]

New York State Journal of Medicine (Medical Society of the State of New York, 1904), vol.4, p. 173 ["Mary Kroeger, known as the Countess Habeba..."]

Mary Kroeger of Brooklyn, wife of Theodore Kroeger, traveling salesman.

The Largest Toy Store In the City

Frederick August Otto Schwartz opened a Toy Bazaar in Baltimore in 1862, and soon thereafter opened branches in Boston, Philadelphia and New York. It is of course the New York store, opened in 1870, that became one of the most famous toy stores in the US.

This advertisement for the original FAO Schwartz store dates from 1872, when the store was on Broadway between 8th and 9th Streets.

The store moved to its 58th Street and Fifth Avenue location in 1931; in 1986, it moved across the street to the General Motors Building. I was taken to FAO Schwartz as a child, as a rare treat, in the 1960s and early 1970s. The dolls and plush animals (for which the store is especially known) impressed me deeply.

Advertisement from The Hotel Guests' Guide to the City of New York (1872).

******



Many thanks to Judy at Tennessee Memories for the Puckerbrush award and to Bearded Lady at The Raucous Royals for the Kreativ Blogger award!

The Laundry Pet

As I start another load of laundry, this advertisement reminds me to appreciate the modern washing machine, which was invented by Edwin King of Chautauqua County, New York (patent is here).

If this is the Prize Washer of America, that lady is in trouble, although she looks quietly happy. Since the cleansing action depends upon "currents of water," there will almost certainly be currents of water on the floor by the end of the wash cycle. The barrel looks like it is about to overflow any second.

At which point she will be needing the Prize Mop of America.

Advertisement from The Stranger's Guide to New York City (1871) - in case any tourists were looking for a large souvenir.

The Case of Mary Morris

In April 1875 the minister of the Park Avenue Primitive Methodist Church in Brooklyn, Fred Bell, went calling on one of his parishioners, an invalid lady named Mary Ann Morris, who lived with her husband William at 40 Vanderbilt Avenue, in the neighborhood of Fort Greene. The Morris house was probably similar to the houses at right, which were about a block from 40 Vanderbilt.

Bell was a young English ex-pugilist who had become famous in New York as the "Singing Preacher." Mary Morris had recently got her husband William, a clerk, to join the church. In January 1876, William charged that on two dates in April 1875, Bell had visited his wife and made "improper advances" to her. It isn't clear why Morris waited so long to lodge his complaint. The President of the Methodist Circuit in Brooklyn, Rev. Charles Spurr, added a second charge against Bell: "sowing discord" by "making false statements to a reporter of the Daily Argus." It is never made clear, in the Eagle, what these statements were. Spurr suspended Bell for 10 days at the end of which they would decide what to do.

Bell said that he wasn't guilty and that he had been planning on leaving the Park Avenue church anyway. He would be preaching back at the Academy of Music instead, he said. Furthermore, he accused the Morrises of blackmail.

An Eagle reporter visited Mrs. Morris, who was in the later stages of the consumption that killed her the following year. She was delicate, ladylike and indignant. Her sister, "a handsome, intelligent young lady," was there to support her.

The two women came across very well. Mary's sister said that it took a long time for Mary to tell her husband about Bell, because William had a bad temper. Mary, who sounds like she was quite ill, was glad to see a reporter so that the truth would be known. She said he came twice a week, in the afternoons. After about three weeks, the improper behaviour began. He asked if she was happy with William and she said yes. Bell then asked "Do you not love me and not your husband?" She said no, but Bell said he thought she was not happy with William.

Mary had been a bit unwell at that time but was doing housework and not confined to bed. He asked her if she thought he was "pretty" and added that his wife thought so. He tried to kiss her and make her sit on his lap. Bell said that she was "the first woman that ever refused me," and that a dozen women in the church "would do it." When she was about to submit her statement to the elders, Bell visited her to ask her to lie, because he did not want to be "plain Fred Bell' again and be thrown out of the church. She refused.

Bell and the Methodist elders carried on a furious exchange of letters and public statements in the Eagle. Bell said that he doubted "[William Morris'] sincerity and the integrity of his wife." Bell added that "[William Morris] is profane in his language, and...she is unworthy of belief and of bad repute." He added that he might have said some things to Mary but she didn't ask him to leave. Well, maybe she said "do not darken my doors unless my husband is at home" - maybe! But she was complacent even after that, Bell said. And William had been found guilty of something "so revolting" that Bell didn't want to mention it. Bell admitted that "his name had been mixed up with that of twenty women" - he was, after all, very pretty. And people were blackmailing him because they disliked him.

The Eagle took pleasure both in publishing the scandalous details of the Morris case, but seemed at first to be on Bell's side, pointing out Mary Morris' confusion as to which days Bell visited her in April 1875, and noting that on one of these days Bell had been with a Mr. Johnson from Shenandoah, Pennsylvania all day. The Eagle said that Bell had "learned his lesson" - i.e., that ministers should always be extra careful around women because they "may misunderstand, imagine or invent things concerning men, especially when they are sick, jealous or irritable."

But in the end, the Methodist elders believed Mary Morris. Her statement had been convincing and moving. In February 1876 Bell was dismissed from the Park Avenue Primitive Methodist Church.. Amazingly, he still had many admirers in Brooklyn. They presented Bell and his wife with a two-story brick house - all furnished - on Washington Street, after he was ejected from the Park Avenue rectory. The Bells lived there until the following summer, when they returned to England.

And within a year of his return to England, Fred Bell found himself with "woman troubles" yet again...[to be continued]

SOURCES

From the Brooklyn Daily Eagle:

"Fred Bell: The Singing Preacher In Trouble," Feb. 1, 1876, p. 4.
"Fred Bell: Further Points About the Trouble He Is In," Feb. 2, 1876, p. 4.
"Rev. Fred Bell," Feb. 5, 1876, p. 4.
"Fred Bell: A Caustic Reply to His Accusers," Feb. 10, 1876, p. 4.
"A Disclaimer From the Other Side," Feb. 11, 1876, p. 4.
"Fred Bell: The Scandal in the Primitive Methodist Church," Feb. 12, 1876, p. 2.
"Fred Bell: His Reply to Mrs. Morris' Accusations," Feb. 26, 1876, p. 4.
"Reply By Deacons xxxx" Mar. 4, 1876, p. 4.
"Fred Bell: An Account of His Woman Troubles," Dec. 22, 1878.

From the New York Times:

"Charges Against the Rev. Fred Bell," Feb. 1, 1876, p. 5.
"Rev. Fred Bell's Case," Feb. 26, 1876, p. 2.

Images from the New York Public Library Digital Gallery: the man and two women here, and Vanderbilt Ave at Park St., Brooklyn [very near the Morris house], here.

Hoofland's German Tonic

Hoofland's German Tonic consisted of Hoofland's German Bitters (a non-alcoholic herbal mixture) combined with Santa Cruz Rum and "flavored so that the extreme bitterness of the bitters is overcome." It was supposed to cure dyspepsia, liver ailments and general "debility" (i.e., everything else). This information is from a 1872 ad in Potter's American Monthly.

However, in 1887 the Chicago Medical Times published a study of tonic medicines and stated that the German Tonic was just over 29% alcohol, which may explain the look in the drummer's eye.

The 1872 advertisement states that it cost $1.50 a bottle, which some people thought was too expensive - but that was because everything in it was pure and of a good quality. And it was recommended by "the Whole Supreme Court of Pennsylvania," too - Hoofland's was manufactured by Jones and Evans in Philadelphia.

Methodist ministers approved of the alcohol-free German Bitters, see here. In an 1862 ad, in a Methodist journal, Hoofland's lists a number of specific symptoms the Tonic cured, including "Constant Imaginings of Evil" and "Depression of Spirits."

Perhaps Methodist minister Fred Bell had a bottle of German Bitters handy in the mid-1870s, when his Brooklyn troubles began. And those will be the subject of the next post.

Image from Library of Congress.

Investigate and Be Amazed

Either we have the best thing that was ever invented, or we're colossal liars.

Well, yes, one or the other. Here is a shower apparatus from 1913 that resembles a large metal tube. I don't know how you get in and out of this thing, or how on earth you're supposed to get clean in it:

Strange invention startles world. Gives every home that long-desired blessing,a modern bathroom with hot and cold running water facilities for only $6.50. No plumbing - no water-works - no heating. Only ten minutes to install. Gives cleansing plus friction. Equivalent to any $200 bathroom. Ten minutes to install. Over 200,000 delighted users. Used by U.S. government.

How did the U.S. government use this, do you think? And were they delighted? This lady does not look delighted. She looks like she is trying to figure out how to get out of that thing. Advertisement from Popular Mechanics, December 1913.

Madame Lolo Lulu of London

Intermission time!

I will be awhile writing the Bell-Morris post, and surely we could all use a little break from Fred and his exploits. Never mind that chasing down William and Mary Morris in the census is proving complicated (common name, etc.). And I need a short break from Fred as well - enchanting though he is. So I thought it was high time for some odds and ends, patent medicines and little strange ads - that sort of thing.

Fred Bell's foray into the world of fortune-telling (which you may read about here) got me very interested in some of his rivals and here is one lady who amused and intrigued me very much. And I adore her name! Here is Madame Lolo Lulu, advertising in the Brooklyn Daily Eagle in February 1884:

She does not tell fortunes for men, please note. And she does not promise brilliant results every time: even with a magic globe to assist her, Lolo Lulu will only say that "her revelations are often marvelous." Often, not always! I love this little ad and when they invent a Time Machine, I am going to have to save some time between 10am and 9pm to visit her - this is a woman I would love to meet.

If I can find out anything more about her (and I have been trying) I will edit this post and let you know.

Advertisement from Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Feb. 20, 1884, p. 3. The photograph shows actress Lillian Russell dressed as a fortune-teller (but without a magic globe, alas), and is from the Library of Congress.

A Plot For A Million: Or, the Minister and the Penny Paper

The story of Rev. Fred Bell's foray into the world of sensation fiction is appearing slightly out of chronological order; i.e., before the post about the Mary Morris scandal of early 1876. That is because the Morris post is taking longer to research than I first anticipated. The story of Bell's romance cropped up in rather suddenly the middle of that research (which is what odd things tend to do in his story). I took some time out to figure out what was going on, and present it to you while I finish researching and writing up the Mary Morris case:

In the mid-1870s, English "Singing Preacher" Fred Bell was pastor of Brooklyn's Park Avenue Primitive Methodist Church. By the end of 1875, he was on the verge of being ousted for improper behaviour with a parishioner, and for slandering the church to a local newspaper. But Fred Bell was also busy with other projects. Before we look at the Morris scandal of early 1876 which led to Bell's speedy (if temporary) return to England, let's have a look at Bell's career in the world of sensational romance.

He had met and befriended a journalist named Kenward Philp. Kenward Philp (ca 1844-1887) was an English-born Brooklyn journalist, who sometimes wrote for the Brooklyn Eagle under the pen name Flaneur. Flaneur (French for "stroller") was a term used by writer Charles Baudelaire in the 19th century to mean an urban wanderer who was both part of the city scene and an observer. Philp was most famous for having written one of the earliest detective-story dime novels, The Bowery Detective (1873).*

As Bell explained to the Eagle in one of the letters he wrote defending himself over the Morris scandal, he had been writing weekly autobiographical sketches for a paper called The New York Story Paper. Bell also had given "material" to Kenward Philp for Philp's story "Hearts and Diamonds; Or, A Plot For A Million," which appeared in the Story Paper in September 1876. The Eagle noted that the Story Paper had more than double the usual orders in advance of the "serial romance by Rev. Fred Bell" appearing there. There was evidently some confusion about whether Bell or Philp had written the story; in any case, Bell seems to have provided the plot and the character of the hero.

The New York Family Story Paper was established in 1870 and like other penny papers (such as the New York Detective Library, at right) ran adventure stories, sensational romances and racy detective stories. It did not have a good reputation; the Eagle called it "a loose publication." When Bell saw the finished story, he didn't like it all, he said, and he complained to the publisher. The publisher "told me that the plates on which the paper was cast had cost such an enormous sum that, as he had nothing to do with the arrangement, he was exceedingly sorry that my friend, Mr. Philp, had broken the contract..[nevertheless] the story bore my name."

The Park Avenue Primitive Methodists were not impressed with this. Bell's fancying himself a romantic ladies' man had been precisely the trouble. That was why he had been ousted as pastor less than six months before "Hearts and Diamonds" appeared in print. Far from showing remorse and shame, Bell seemed to see himself as a romantic, dashing figure irresistible to the ladies.

******

*Philp's other claim to fame is less positive. In October 1880 Philp was arrested and charged with forging the Morey Letter. The letter was supposed to have been written to a merchant called Morey by 1880 Presidential candidate James A. Garfield, "dealt with the Chinese question in such a way as would undoubtedly lose the Pacific States to the Republican Party had the genuineness of the letter no been doubted," as George Washington Walling put it in his 1887 book Recollections of a New York Chief of Police. In other words, it stated that Garfield was in favor of Chinese immigration without restriction; whereas in fact Garfield and the other candidates had stated that they were against this. This was a key issue in the election, and when the Morey Letter appeared, it stirred incredible passion and outrage.

By the time Garfield issued a denial the Morey Letter had been reprinted in newspapers across America. The Republicans organized a hunt for the forger, involving several detectives, and they zeroed in on Kenward Philp, who was arrested and tried in November 1880. He was acquitted in the end but several witnesses were indicted on a charge of perjury. It was never ascertained conclusively who had written the letter.

Image of New York Family Story Paper cover from eBay, where it can be purchased.
Image of New York Detective Library cover from Wikimedia Commons.

Also see: New York Family Story Paper at the Stanford University Dime Novels and Penny Dreadfuls collection. The images are from the 1880s, though the paper started in 1873 and was published at least until 1892.

SOURCES

"City and Suburban News: Brooklyn," New York Times, Feb. 22, 1886, p. 8. [Kenward Phelp obit]

Cushing, William. Anonyms and Pseudonyms: A Dictionary of Literary Disguises. (New York: T.Y. Crowell, 1888), p. 112.

Davenport, John Isaacs. History of the Forged "Morey Letter." (Pub. by the Author, 1884), p. 8 [reproduction of the letter]

"Fred Bell: An Account of His Woman Troubles," Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Dec. 22, 1878, p. 3 [a detailed overview of his Brooklyn problems, in context of his then-current troubles in Nottingham, England]

Gyory, Andrew. "The Phony Document that Almost Cost a President His Election," History News Network (24 Oct. 2004)

Haining, Peter. The Classic Era of Crime Fiction. (Chicago: Chicago Review Press, 2002), p. 49.

MacDougall, Curtis Daniel. Hoaxes. (New York: Dover, 1958), p. 91.

Parish, John Carl. Pacific Historical Review, Vol. 27 (American Historical Association, Pacific Coast Branch, 1958), p. 365.

"Rev. Fred Bell as an Author," Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Sept. 16, 1876, p. 4.

Walling, George Washington. Recollections of a New York Chief of Police. (New York: Caxton, 1887), pp 344-5.