A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
‘In the flat spots and narrow alleys where the gradient failed, the water did not flow away; it sat. Green, putrefying pools collected in depressions and remained there for weeks at a time, little more than stagnant open sewers.
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/the-foul-streets/
A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
In 1865 in Dunedin, a selection of meats went on sale at a local Dunedin store from an animal that was suffering from lung sickness, a highly contagious respiratory disease affecting cattle. Fortunately, the disease is not zoonotic, but the fact that portions of lung and liver were being cut up, put on display, sold and eaten raises the question: just what were people living in the Devil’s Half-Acre actually eating?
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/rancid-rations/
A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
On a July evening in 1907, Loo Lee was enjoying what should have been a quiet night beside the fire in his small hut, tucked away in one of the alleyways off Walker Street. As he shuffled around inside, there came a knock at the door. Ignoring it, Loo Lee carried on with his evening.
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/the-opium-den-raid/
A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
On Monday morning in 1870, the Mayor’s Court dealt with a man who had been bitten, nearly kicked to death and left with part of his fingers missing after a brutal assault. Alongside the violence came the usual stream of charges for drunkenness, prostitution and sly-grog selling. It was just another weekend in Dunedin’s Devil’s Half-Acre.
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/the-sly-grog-queen/
A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
One night while walking along Walker Street, a man was attacked. In self-defence he grabbed a knife and stabbed his attacker. When two men and a lady appeared on the scene, saying that they had witnessed the whole affair and that if he hadn’t murdered the man, they would have. Nobody saw anything, and nobody heard anything.
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/the-alleyway-murder/
A little taste of the next Dispatch from The Devil’s Half-Acre.
In July 1883, George Stephenson followed his estranged wife Mary through the streets of Dunedin with a rather more sinister plan in mind than simply asking how her day had been. What followed became one of the city’s most horrific murder-suicides, involving a stick of dynamite, a match head, and a blast that shook the neighbourhood.
Get the full read, right here: https://fromasmallcity.nz/the-dynamite-tragedy/