Publication: The San Francisco Call
San Francisco, CA, United States
PUTS AN END
TO HER LIFE
Horseman's Bride Dies,
Laying the Blame
Goes to Death Clasping
Mother's Photograph to
Fearing that she had lost the affections of her husband, which she valued more than life itself, Mrs. Robert Hemingray, the beautiful young, wife of a well-known turfman, ended her life last night in the Hotel Knickerbocker, at 1340 Pine street, by firing a bullet through her brain. She had been married only four months, but it is evident from the note which she penned just before ending her life that she felt that she had forfeited her husband's love.
Few men or women have ended their lives under more pathetic circumstances. When Mrs. Hemingray's body was found it was reclining on the bed in the room. The young woman had gone to her death with her mother's picture grasped tightly in her left hand and pressed fondly against her heart. There was a gaping wound in the suicide's head and the bed was covered with blood. The despondent wife had the pistol against her right temple and the bullet had gone completely through her head, emerging at the left temple. From the nature of the wound death must have been instantaneous.
Robert Hemingray, the husband, heard the shot, though he did not see his wife end her life. He and his brother, C. L. Hemingray, were in the hotel hallway, going toward the room in which the unfortunate woman was preparing for death. He heard the report of the pistol coming from the direction of his wife's room and was instantly seized with a dire presentment. Being in frail health he feared to approach the room. He summoned the proprietor, J. E. Locke, who was the first to enter the apartment where the body lay. Locke immediately summoned a physician, but the unfortunate woman was past the help of all earthly ministrations.
SORRY SHE GOSSIPED.
Mrs. Hemingray carefully propped herself up with pillows on the bed, so as to make certain of her aim. Before firing the fatal shot she wrote a note to Rose Hemingray, her sister-in-law, asking to be forgiven if she had done anything wrong, and requesting that all her clothes be sent to her mother in Cincinnati. She left a letter sealed and addressed to her husband. In this, containing the last words that will ever be penned by her hands, she assured him of her undying love. She told him that without him she cared nothing for life. The letter is as follows:
"Bob, Dear: Don't curse me when I am gone — please. But I am heartbroken and cannot live without you, as I love you with all my soul. You'll bury me, won't you, Bob? Just a little dirt over the body of the girl who would not live without you, dear. I am sorry I did such a wicked thing as gossip, but I am so young, only remember, Bob, and you have trifled, with my heart. When you told me you did not care to talk with me I just longed to kiss you — throw my arms around your neck, but you would have knocked me down. So I die without one kiss, but I had one long look at your dear face. Ask Con and Rose to forgive me, for I can never do it again. Good-by, sweetheart. Again I say you will never know how you had gained the love of your little girl.
Appended to the letter was the address of the dead girl's mother, Mrs. P. F. Campiglio, 626 West Fourth street Cincinnati, Ohio. In a note at the bottom of the last page was a request to her husband to mail a letter to her mother informing her that her daughter had passed from the struggles and cares of this life.
The pistol used was of 32 cali