Brooklyn Eagle/1879/The Matrimonial Experiences of Colonel Ruth Goshen

by Anonymous

MELANCHOLY

——

The Matrimonial Experiences
of Colonel Ruth Goshen.

The Turkish Giant Robbed of his Wife, his Educated Goat, his Money and his Horse and Carriage—The Perfidy of a Man Whom he Befriended—A very High Life Elopement Which Excites the Show People—Moving for a Divorce.

That matrimonial misery may afflict the highest as well as the lowest was never better illustrated than in the affliction which has overtaken Colonel Ruth Goshen, the Giant whose enormous figure has towered in Brooklyn for the past two weeks. The Colonel is one of the most widely known celebrities of his class in the United States, His acquaintances agree that he possesses agreeable manners and a confiding disposition; and although in stature he might easily vie with the lofty inhabitants of Brobdignag, he is but a child in the dark and crooked ways of this wicked world. Like the Thane of Frife, the Colonel has a wife, and well may he ask in tremulous tones, as he did this morning "Where is she now?" If fact Mrs. Colonel Ruth Goshen has eloped with a showman and the gigantic hero of many gory fields who has been compelled by

PERFIDY OF HIS SPOUSE

to assume the role of the injured husband is taking stops toward the procurement of a divorce.

People who are in the habit of visiting shows will remember Colonel Goshen, and thousands who have seen him on the street will remember his burly form and his good natured face which beams from under his broad brimmed hat as big and shining as a locomotive headlight. This worthy descendent of the Brobdignagian race first saw the light of day forty-three years ago in the City of Jerusalem, Palestine. He is of Hebrew and Turkish descent. At present he stands seven feet eleven inches in his stocking feet, weighs 625 pounds, measures ninety-one inches round the chest and ninety-five inches round the waist. His arms are of the thickness of saplings and his fist possesses the ponderosity of the hammer of Thor. The Colonel has served in several eventful campaigns. He was in the Turkish army at Jerusalem, and fought through the Crimean war, the war of Italian independence and the campaign of Maxmilian in Mexico. His great height made him a fine target for the enemy; he was wounded in numerous engagements and at present has seventeen bullet holes in his body, which seem to have had as much effect as they would on the hide of the elephant or the rhinocerous.

About eighteen years ago the ever vigilant P.T. Barnum discovered the Colonel while traveling abroad and brought him to this country, where he was placed on exhibition, and for a time he was the wonder of the immense crowds which flocked to see him. He had a prosperous experience on this side of the water and accumulated many shekels. His existence flowed pleasantly and uneventfully along until the Spring of 1862 when his heart was smitten by the dart of Cupid. It was in a Delancey street boarding house, on the great East side of New York, that

THE COLONEL'S CHARMER

first dawned upon his entranced gaze, Her name, she said, was Augusta Mattice. She was tall and dark, with the rotundity of a Dudu, combined with the easy grace of a Donna Julia. When the weighty warrior first saw her she was blushing amid the shade of widow's weeds, and supervising the operation of a first class boarding house. Her impersonation of the bereft widow was perfect, and although subsequent inquiry has proved that the deceased Mattice was a mythical personage, the Colonel was unsuspicious, and after a few months' billing and cooing after the manner of the turtle dove, assuaged her grief by taking her for his wife. After the marriage the giant continued his starring tours, and his wife, who at the time had barely turned twenty-five years, accompanied him. They visited various parts of the United States, Canada, Mexico, Europe and Palestine. The circumstances of the difficulties which resulted in the elopement of the wife and the commencement the divorce proceedings are best told in the words of the Colonel, who told his story to an Eagle reporter this morning, with brimming eyes, in the great Dime Museum, No. 430 Fulton Street.

THE COLONEL'S TALE OF WOE.

"She was a very pretty woman," the Colonel said, and before I found her out I thought a great deal of her. She was a very well behaved toward me up to the time I discovered her infidelity. When she was true nothing was too good for her. She traveled with me almost all over the world. We went through the United States and three years ago, when I took Donald McKay and the Warm Spring Indiana to Europe she accompanied me. We went through England, France, Germany, Russia, Italy and then I took her to my old home in Jerusalem. I always thought she was the finest woman in the world. We never had a cross word or a fuss of any kind at this time. I showered all sorts of gifts on her. Gold chains and necklaces and diamond rings were given as freely as water and she had all the money she wanted.

Up to a year ago I had not the least

REASON TO SUSPECT HER FIDELITY

to me. At that time we were living on my farm at Clyde Station, New Jersey. An engagement was tendered me by the Harry Deacon Opera Company, and I wanted her to accompany me on a tour through the Provinces, but she said she was tired of traveling and refused to go with me. I thought it strange, but said nothing, and left her at home with our two adopted children, the servants and a man named J.W. Sweet, who I had rescued from poverty and given a home. When I returned home from the West I asked my wife for the key to my safe, which had been entrusted to her care. She said the key had been left in New York for safe keeping, but I went to the place she designated and found her statement was false. On my return to Clyde Station I found that my wife had run away with Sweet, taking with her about $10,000 in money and bonds which I had left in the safe. From the servants I learned that Sweet had for months been living in improper relations with my wife.

This man Sweet was at one time the husband of Madame Sebastian, the circus rider, who was obliged by ill treatment to leave him and get a divorces. My wife and he got away in time to save her life and that of her paramour. My first impulse was to follow them and kill them both, but the counsels of my neighbors and my own common sense made me think better of it, and leave their punishment to a higher authority than mine. Sweet and Mrs. Goshen went to New York where they lived together until three weeks ago, All that Sweet cared for was the money, for as soon as it was gone he began a course of systematic abuse against my wife. Three weeks ago he gave her a terrible beating and then ran away to Canada, where he is now in hiding. My wife is now reduced to the lowest depth of degradation and has appealed to me for assistance, but I sent word to her to go to Hades, and say that I sent her there.

A few weeks ago, while I was away from home, Sweet and my wife went there and stole a horse and carriage

AND AN EDUCATED GOAT,

which I valued at $4,000. I thought everything of that goat. He could read, write and multiply, Sweet, I believe, has possession of him now. I have reason to believe that the robbery of my horse, last December, was a job put up by Sweet and my wife. It would not be well for the rascal if I could catch him," and the Colonel concluded his doleful tale with a mighty thump of his big hickory cane that made the floor tremble. He seemed deeply affected when he told the writer that he expected a divorce at an early date. When he concluded his story he arrayed himself in his blue, scarlet uniform and his big helmet and mingled with the crowd which admired the dwarfs, the glass blowers, the St. Benoit twins and the other wonders of the museum, of which all agreed that Colonel Ruth Goshen was the greatest of all.