Detective stories are more than 25 centuries old.
No one knows why the strings on Paganini's violin broke.
Twin brothers suffered identical accidents one week apart.
Can you imagine that?
Yes, friends, this is Lindsay McCarrie, and I'm back with my cohorts once more on your
station to prove those statements in just one and a half minutes.
Will you wait for us?
We'll have a little
What
would be your guess as to the oldest detective story in the world? Well, I think I've found
it. At least I'll challenge anyone to find an older detective story. One of the books
of the Apocrypha and the original King James version of the Bible is entitled The History
of the Destruction of Belle and the Dragon. And in this book, I believe you'll find the
oldest detective story in the world. We're going to dramatize it for you, and here it
is.
Now the Babylonians had an idol called Belle, and they were spent upon him every day, twelve
great measures of fine flour and forty sheep and six vessels of wine. And the King worshipped
it. The Daniel worshipped his own God and said unto the King, O King, be not deceived,
for this is but clay within and brass without, and did never eat or drink anything. What
sayest thou? O my priests, come hither. Ye priests of Babylon, if ye tell me not who
this is that devoureth these expenses, ye shall die. But if ye can certify me that Belle
devoureth them, then Daniel shall die, for he hath spoken blasphemy against Belle. What
sayest thou, Daniel?
Let it be according to thy word.
Come then to the temple of Belle.
Then said the high priest of Belle.
Lo, we go out, but thou, O King, set on the meat, and make ready the wine, and shut the
door fast, and seal it with thine own signet. And tomorrow, when thou comest in, if thou
findest not that Belle hath eaten up all, we will suffer death, or else Daniel that speaketh
pulsely against us.
So when they were gone forth, the King set meats before Belle. Now Daniel had commanded
his servants to bring ashes, and those they strewed throughout all the temple in the presence
of the King alone. Then they went out and shut the door, and sealed it with the King's
signet, and so departed. In the morning but time...
Lo, seeest thou, Daniel? The meats and the wine are gone. Great art thou, O Belle, and
with thee is no deceit at all.
Hold, O King. Enter not the temple. Seest thou upon the floor where my servants have strewed
the ashes? Behold now the pavement, and mark well whose footsteps are these.
I see the footsteps of men, women, and children. Ye priests, what mean these footsteps?
O King, forgive us, for we have sinned against thee.
What meanest thou, priest?
See, we have made under the table a secret door. Through this door we have made entry
by night. We, our wives, and our children, we have eaten of the meats and drunk of the
wine now has set before Belle.
Then, then ye false priests, ye shall die!
Thus, by spreading ashes on the floor of the temple, Daniel proved the hoax perpetrated
by the priests of Belle and saved his own life. And, ladies and gentlemen, I maintain this
is the oldest detective story in the world, for it happened six centuries before the birth
of Christ.
Happenstance always makes for a good news story, and here's one I found in a newspaper
of 1910 which contains the paradoxical elements of both tragedy and joy. On December 29th,
1909, just four days after Christmas, Joseph Bremen, 24 years of age, a brakeman on the
New Haven Railroad, dashed into his home on West 29th Street.
Mother, mother, where are you?
Here, Joe, in the kitchen.
What, why, Joe, what's the matter?
Mother, you'll have to come with me right away.
It's Ed.
Yes, mother. Ed just fell off a moving freight at 31st and 11th Avenue. He's been taken
to the hospital. The doctor at the yard said he, he wasn't hurt bad, though.
Well, I'll come. Wait till I get my coat. Just a minute.
Thus did Joseph Bremen report to his mother the injury to his twin brother. Hurriedly,
mother and son went to the hospital.
I just couldn't stand it, Joe, if something happened to Ed. Just think your own twin
brother.
Sure, I know, mother. He'd be tough on me, too. But Ed's going to be all right. You
just...
Oh. Yes, doctor?
You, you must be brave, Mrs. Bremen.
Ed?
Yes. He died just a moment ago.
No. Oh, no. No.
And through the death of Edward Bremen, the precious love of that mother for her twin
sons was broken asunder. Exactly one week later, on January 4th, 1910...
Just a moment, please. Oh, yes.
Mrs. Bremen?
Yes?
Just now, just a block away from where Ed fell last week, at 32nd Street and 11th Avenue.
Not Joe.
Yeah, but he fell into a snowdrift, Mrs. Bremen. He's all right.
No. No, that's what they said about Ed. They said Ed would be all right, too. Take me
to Joe. Take me to him.
Of course, it was natural that Mother Bremen should discount the reassurance. But when she
arrived at the hospital, she found Joe only slightly injured. Later, he recovered from
his fall off the top of a moving freight car, just one block from the spot where his brother
had taken an identical but fatal plunge exactly one week before. Can you imagine that?
One of the strangest, most spectacular figures in all the vast realm of musical history was
the Genoese violinist Niccolo Paganini. Tall, gaunt, the ghastly pallor of his hollow cheeks
framing the steely flash of his sunken eyes, Paganini became a veritable legend of mystery
during the early 19th century. Throughout Europe, the spectral figure, draped weirdly
in ill-fitting old black garments, became a familiar sight as he strode violently to
the center of concert stages and with a whip of his bow enticed audiences everywhere with
the gorgeous wizardry of music from his beloved violin, a priceless Guarnereus. A complete
chronicle of his bizarre antics would fill volumes. Here are but a few.
At Verona, after his ability to play another's compositions had been challenged, Paganini
played a difficult concerto penned by the challenging composer using a Malacca walking
stick for a bow. He once gave a concert using not a violin but a wooden shoe strung with
gut. At Milan, he accepted another challenge and played a difficult concerto at first sight
with all the strings of his violin purposely out of tune. At Rome, Paganini and two other
noted composers, Rossini in Maia Beers, dressed as women during a carnival and went about
the streets begging. He always purchased his clothes at secondhand shops. When the King
of Sardinia demanded an encore, the virtuoso retorted, Paganini never repeats. When King
William IV of England desired a command performance, Paganini set a price of £1,000 sterling.
The King thereupon offered half the amount and remarked the violinist, under the conditions
which the King seems to desire, he may hear me more favourably at one of my public concerts.
But Paganini's favourite stunt was playing a complete composition, sometimes even a series
of numbers on one string. Wherever he appeared, the strings on his violin would miraculously
break one by one until only a single string remained and Paganini would always complete
his selection. He became noted for this peculiar ability to play the most difficult concerto
with three strings of his violin dangling down before an amazed audience. This occurred
so often that critics speculated as to whether or not Paganini carried a small knife concealed
in his hand so that he could cut the strings. To this day, two Paganini mysteries still
persist. What was this strange secret, a virtuosity of which he continually boosted? Why did three
strings on his violin always break in the middle of his concerts? And no one up to the
present has satisfactorily answered either question. Can you imagine that? One of Paganini's
compositions which he always played on only one string was variations on a theme from
Rossini's Moses in Egypt. You're going to hear it now, played only on the G string by
the talented young concertmaster of our orchestra, Misha Russell.
Please, stay with us.
And once more, friends, after another session of Can You Imagine That,
this is Lindsay McCarrie taking pleasure in turning you over to your own announcer,
but regretting that he must say, goodbye now.