September is Suicide Prevention Month, a time to remind us that while murderers always get screen time on the evening news, suicide is the stealthy killer that takes even more lives.
Suicide has always been with us, but it has not been well documented in the historical record. Likewise, suicide's grim handmaiden, mental illness, has generally been misunderstood throughout most of our history, and this lack of understanding persists today.
Due to a willingness of some newspaper editors to report deaths by suicide, we are able to identify at least a few of the tormented souls who took their own lives. Sometimes the news accounts will provide background on the deaths, and often the editor will speculate on the immediate cause of the suicide.
One of the most interesting accounts of a suicide in 19th-century Arkansas occurred in November 1847, when a well-regarded veteran of the just-concluded war with Mexico killed himself with his own pistol. The news article is unsigned, so we do not know who wrote the story, but it gives an unusually detailed account of the deceased, his death, and a possible cause.
Thomas Denton's death was recorded on page 2 of the Arkansas Gazette of Nov. 11, 1847, under the simple headline "Suicide in Arkansas." The writer noted the rarity of suicides in "our State, where labor meets with a fair reward, and where the chase [hunting] and other excitements of western life may serve to restore the spirit in elasticity [of the mind] ..."
Denton's service as a volunteer in the Mexican war was duly noted, including his fighting in the Battle of Buena Vista. The news account also noted that Denton's brother, John, died during the war. Following his discharge from the militia, Denton took a job as a guard at the new state prison in Little Rock near the current state capitol.
In the autumn of 1847, Denton took a week of leave from his job to go to his father's farm and help him "house his corn crop"--meaning harvest the crop and get it into a crib. This is how the newspaper account unfolded the sad story: "He assisted his father during the whole of last week, until Friday, when he bid him 'farewell' in the field, as if intending to return to town. He proceeded to the house, bid his mother goodbye, went down to the springs where his sisters were washing, bid them goodbye, and started off, but did not get beyond the lane, before he shot himself with a pistol."
The news account expressed the shock of the event, noting that Denton's "associates say that they never perceived anything in his manner to indicate such a step ..." While psychiatry was in its infancy in 1847 and bipolar disorder was yet to be identified, the author of the account of Denton's death speculates on his mental health: "Yet this sad affair might have had its origin in a deep-seated melancholy, which he never allowed himself to disclose, but which, perhaps, preyed the heavier upon his spirits on that account." Melancholia in this case was probably severe depression, though it had multiple medical meanings at the time.
Another antebellum suicide was far more dramatic--the victim being an enslaved man. In the summer of 1853, an unnamed runaway slave was captured in Phillips County and put on a boat to his owner in Mississippi. The Helena newspaper reported that the shackled man leapt over the side of the boat and disappeared below the muddy waters, never to be found.
The same year that defiant runaway made his final escape from slavery, a suicide occurred in Crawford County involving a young woman who overdosed on laudanum, a popular 19th-century medicine noted for its high opium content. The newspaper account noted that the victim had just returned from a religious camp meeting, concluding "we are informed that disappointed love was the cause."
Pining for lost love was often cited as a cause for suicide, especially among women. Mabel Brookins, a Little Rock widow, killed herself in 1892 by swallowing rat poison. The 24-year-old had been "despondent" since her husband, firefighter Henry Brookins, was killed 18 months earlier when he fell from a horse-drawn fire engine responding to an alarm.
Suicide by drug overdose became quite common at the dawn of the 20th century. One of the most bizarre suicides by overdose involved a Hot Springs drugstore clerk in March 1900 sneaking into his workplace after having been on "a spree" and taking "just the proper quantity" of morphine to end his life.
Tragically and remarkably, two of the four grown children of renowned governor, U.S. senator, and attorney general of the United States, Augustus H. Garland, killed themselves. The first of the Garland children to die of her own hand was his only surviving daughter, 23-year-old Daisy Garland, in 1893. In announcing Daisy's death, the New York Times described her as "a well known and very popular figure in [Washington, D.C.] society." According to Washington newspapers, Miss Garland shot herself through the heart with her father's revolver.
Garland's son, William A. "Will" Garland, killed himself just before Christmas in 1907. This suicide played out in a particularly sad and public manner. After being rebuffed by his estranged wife, William Garland checked into the new Marion Hotel in downtown Little Rock. After unsuccessfully trying to obtain cocaine on the streets, he convinced the hotel doctor to give him a prescription for five doses, which he had no trouble legally filling late at night. He retreated to his room and consumed all five doses, which was prelude to a night of raving and thrashing about. By 7 the next morning Will had to be restrained in his room, and the doctor gave him a sedative. He seemed out of danger and spoke rationally of his addiction and life failures. Within two hours, however, Will Garland was dead. Both local daily newspapers covered the death in great detail and concluded it was a suicide.
Arkansas and the nation are undergoing a surge in suicides at this time. According to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Arkansas ranks 10th in the nation in the number of suicides per 100,000 people--with 577 deaths by suicide last year. More shockingly stated, on average, an Arkansan takes his or her life every 15 hours.
Tom Dillard is a historian and retired archivist living near Glen Rose in Hot Spring County. Email him at Arktopia.td@gmail.com.
Editorial on 09/24/2017