For the sake of accuracy and to be truly interpretative the historical account of any era should include a record of the evil deeds of disreputable characters as well as the good deeds of honorable ones, albeit the tendency is to disregard the former in order to glorify the latter, because of their greater appeal to the pride and esteem of their fellow countrymen.
The medical colleges and the good citizens of Cincinnati during the nineteenth century could well boast of their outstanding professors of anatomy, such notables for example, as Doctors Cilley, Clendenin, Cobb, Comegys, Gobrecht, Gross, Judkins and others too numerous to mention—names which still grace the rolls of “Ohio’s Medical Hall of Fame.” It is not the object of this paper to detract one iota from the laurels of these professors of anatomy; rather, the purpose is to depict some of the deeds and something of the character of a villainous individual by the name of William Cunningham, a “professional resurrectionist,” upon whom the professors relied for procuring their anatomical material.
THE DRAY-MAN BOGEYMAN
More stories were told about Cunningham than of any other of the resurrectionists in Ohio, of his grave robbing episodes and of his escapades in eluding law officers. He was the bogeyman of all ill-behaved children in the environs of Cincinnati during the period when he plied his trade in corpses, which was between the years 1855 and 1871. He was known locally by various names, including Old Man Dead and The Ghoul, but he was more familiarly called “Old Cunny,” not simply because it was a contraction of his real name but since he was as cunning as the proverbial fox, and due to his adroitness and daring, he was deserving of the cognomen.
He was born in Ireland in 1807 and is described as having been a big raw-boned man with muscles like Hercules, a protruding lower jaw and an insatiable thirst for hard liquor. During the day he was ostensibly a dray-man, but at night he plied his trade as a professional resurrectionist, supplying the medical colleges of Cincinnati with cadavers which he and his hired helpers exhumed from the local cemeteries.
According to a Cincinnati physician, who knew him in a business way, “Cunny was an expert in his business.... Usually he took the body to town in a buggy sitting in the seat beside him. The corpse was dressed up in an old coat, vest and hat. He would hold the reins in his right hand while he would steady the corpse with his left arm around the waist of his silent companion. Whenever people passed and the corpse would gravitate forward and downward Cunny would slap his inoffensive partner in the face and say to him ‘Sit up! This is the last time I am going to take you home when you get drunk. The idea of a man with a family disgracing himself in this way!’”[1]
OLD CUNNY’S CUNNINGNESS
Illustrative of Old Cunny’s cleverness are the following incidents related about him. One night between the hours of eleven and twelve o’clock he and two of his confederates stopped at a saloon in Carthage to have a drink. His identity being known by almost everyone in the environs of Cincinnati and his nightly movements always arousing suspicion, after he and his helpers had departed several of the patrons of the saloon organized themselves into a posse and proceeded to follow the ghouls to the cemetery used by the City Infirmary in the rear of that institution. The party in pursuit surrounded the cemetery just as the ghouls were in the act of raising two subjects from their graves and commenced firing promiscuously at them. His two helpers escaped into an adjoining woods but Old Cunny stood his grounds and obstinately refused to obey the command to hold up his hands. Finally when one of the members of the party drew a bead on him with a rifle which failed to go off when the cap snapped he reluctantly gave himself up and begged them to spare his life.
Old Cunny was then piled into his conveyance and accompanied by his captors was forced to drive back to Carthage. On their return to that village, he persuaded his captors to stop at the saloon where he bought them several drinks. When they were properly mellowed, he was released and permitted to return to Cincinnati with his empty wagon. However, instead of continuing toward that city, he circumvented the route and returned to the cemetery, during which time his doughty captors merrily dispersed to their homes. Meanwhile, his helpers, having been well trained in their duty, had returned to the scene of their ghoulish task, had hooked the two subjects from their graves, and placed them in sacks all ready for transportation to one of the medical colleges.[2]