The Tragedy at the Bryant Place: A Life Cut Short in Whitman County
In November 1888, William McCloud’s death by suicide near Pullman shocked neighbors and sparked a somber inquest, revealing the quiet despair behind the frontier's bustling growth.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
A rather novel election wager will be publicly paid in this city next Tuesday afternoon. Barney Hattrup pinned his faith on Cleveland by betting Wm. Renfrew a new $10 silk hat, $20 in cash, and a ride in a brand-new wheel-barrow that Harrison would not be elected president. Having lost, Barney will carry out the program, and will wheel Renfrew the length of Main-st. and back in a new barrow on the day mentioned. The vehicle (which is included in the wager) will be appropriately decorated, and Renfrew will wear the new hat and carry the $20 bill as a banner. You should be on hand to see the fun.
Lost: A fine Mexican parrot, a good talker. Finder liberally rewarded on leaving information of its whereabouts at this office.
ANOTHER SUICIDE.— Following closely upon the recent murder and suicide at Colfax came the surprising intelligence Wednesday that Win. McCloud had ended his earthly existence with his own hands early that morning. The deceased was living temporarily on the well-known Bryant place, five miles west of Pullman, with his family, and on the morning mentioned arose at about five o'clock and started the kitchen fire, as was his custom. He then left the house, though but partially dressed, remarking that he wouldn't be gone long; but, as the time passed on and brought no sign of his return, Mrs. McCloud became uneasy and began a search about the premises. Her husband was in poor health and subject to spells of vomiting, consequent upon chronic dyspepsia, and she feared that, as was sometimes the case, he might have fainted during one of these attacks. Not finding him in the immediate vicinity, the search was extended to an old storage barn about one mile from the house, and there the family were horror-stricken by the discovery of the lifeless body of the missing man suspended by the neck from one of the overhead beams. The neighbors were immediately notified and hastened to the spot. Investigation showed that McCloud had walked to the barn in his stocking-feet, picked up and knotted together several pieces of old lace-leather, such as is used in belting, had fastened one end of this cord to the beam and the other end around his neck. To reach the beam he had been obliged to mount upon the feed-table of a separator stored in the barn, and having thus adjusted matters to his satisfaction, he deliberately stepped off the table and hung suspended by the neck. The leather, however, broke with the weight and he fell to the ground. He then secured some pieces of strong sacking twine and with these and the leather succeeded in making a cord sufficiently strong to bear the strain. This time his step from the feed-table was a step into eternity, sure enough. The neck was not broken by the fall—death had resulted from strangulation. The body was left as found until the arrival of Justice Lobaugh, of this city, when it was taken down and an inquest held. The jury (Messrs. T. L. Hunt, B. Lanning, John Squires, E. and M. Bryant and Jno. Morrison) made a careful investigation, but no light was thrown upon the cause of
This 1888 account of suicide highlights the isolation and mental health struggles faced by early settlers in Whitman County, often masked by the era's stoic reporting style. While modern discourse frames such tragedies with greater empathy and resources for prevention, the fundamental reality of rural isolation affecting mental well-being remains a poignant parallel today.
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