Tragic death in fashionable Knickerbocker, Carlotta Hemingray suicide

TRAGIC DEATH

IN FASHIONABLE

KNICKERBOCKER

MRS. CARLOTTA HEMINGRAY.

Who ended her life with a bullet last night in the fashionable Knickerbocker

apartment house at 1340 Pine street.

These letters were found in the dresser of the young woman. One of them shows how deep was her love for her husband:

"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. Forgive me, dear, I beg of you. 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 cannot do it again. Goodby, sweetheart. Again I say you will never know how you had gained the love of your little girl.          CARLOTTA."

Mother's address is 636 W. Fourth street, Cincinnati. Please mail a letter there.

ROSE: Please forgive me, if you think I have done anything wrong. Kindly send all my clothes to my mother, Mrs. P. F. Campiglio, 636 W. Fourth street, Cincinnati, Ohio.

Wife of a Well-Known Horseman Shoots Herself

Because She Pined for Husband's Love.

CARLOTTA HEMINGRAY, a beautiful girl not yet eighteen years of age, who was known at the fashionable Knickerbocker apartment house at 1340 Pine street as the wife of Robert Hemingray, a prominent racing man, shot herself last night through the right temple and death was instantaneous. In her left hand was a miniature photograph inscribed "Your loving mother," and upon a dresser were two letters — one to the man was a pathetic presentation of love unrequited and begging forgiveness.

These last epistles from the dead disclose that she was unhappy because Hemingray had upbraided her for gossiping, and rather than displease him she prepared calmly for death and fired the fatal shot just as the man of her choice, accompanied by his brother, C. T. Hemingray, was at the threshold of the room.

HEARING THE SHOTS.

The shooting occurred about 8:30 o'clock. Both Hemingrays had been downtown since 7 o'clock, and C. T. Hemingray was about to enter their rooms, which are on the second floor of the Knickerbocker, when they were startled by a pistol shot in the bedroom. Without waiting to investigate, Robert Hemingray rushed to the office and said to J. E. Locke, tourist agent of the North Shore Railroad:

"A shot has been fired in a room on the second floor and I believe my wife has shot herself."

Locke went to the apartment and found Mrs. Hemingray's body upon the bed, with a bullet wound in the right temple. Her left hand grasped a photograph of her mother, and it was pressed to her heart, while in the right hand was a 32-calibre Colt revolver, the muzzle of which had fallen inside the shirt waist, which had been loosened at the throat. Before committing the deed, Mrs. Hemingray had wound a white cloth around her luxuriant auburn hair. One show was off.

A doctor was summoned instantly, but he pronounced the woman dead, and the Coroner was notified by Policeman M. Behan.

When Robert T. Hemingray had been informed of the suicide he cried out, "My God! My God!" But neither he nor his brother could be induced to enter their rooms. Instead, they went to the Palace Hotel, where they engaged rooms.

Upon a little dresser in the Hemingrays' rooms at the Knickerbocker were two letters. One was addressed to "Rose" and the other to "Bob" Hemingray, the latter being sealed. The one to "Rose" simply asked for forgiveness, but that penned by the beautiful young girl to the man she loved was far different. She besought him to remember that she was young and to overlook her weaknesses, such as gossiping, for which she offered no excuse. The letter is replete with avowals of affection, and asked that she be buried by him — "Just a little bit of earth."

KEPT SORROW TO HERSELF.

That was all, Mrs. Hemingray had told no one of her sorrow. If she had any, except to remark to Locke three days ago:

"Mr. Locke, what would you do if you had a husband who was sick and cross all the time?"

And to Mrs. Locke she said: "We are practically on our wedding trip."

At the Palace Hotel Robert Hemingray told his story, interrupting his recital repeatedly to inform representatives of the press that he could ascribe no motive for his wife taking her life. He is twenty-five years old, and an owner of race horses, two of which are in training at the Ingleside track. He comes from Covington, Ky., but gives New York as his home.

HEMINGRAY'S STORY.

"My brother, C. T. Hemingray, and myself had been down town since 7 o'clock visiting Harry Corbett's place and we also purchased some magazines. We returned to the Knickerbocker about 8:30 o'clock and my brother was just going into our room when we were startled by a shot, which I found was fired by my wife. I did not go into the room; I simply couldn't, for I have been sick and I feared I could not stand the shock.

"I married Carlotta Blanca Campiglio at Chicago about three months and a half ago, a Justice of the Peace performing the ceremony. We came to San Francisco three weeks ago Thursday and have been most happy, except that now and then I spoke to her harshly. But we never quarreled and I am at a loss to know why she killed herself. My wife had gone to the racetrack nearly every day since the meeting was on and seemed to be enjoying herself.

"I served as a non-commissioned officer in the Fifth Cavalry and the Eleventh infantry during the Cuban and Porto Rico campaigns, enlisting at San Antonio, Tex., when the war broke out. I am a racing man and have two horses at Ingleside, Lord Kitchener and Hanover. I am not wealthy, but I'm not starving, and expect to follow the racecourse for some time. No, I'm not what you would call a wealthy man."

Hemingray is extremely nervous, he explains, from a wound received in the war. He was stabbed with a bayonet and since he came here has been under the care of Dr. J. Albert Noble.

His narrative was corroborated by his brother, who says that they took apartments at the Knickerbocker on Pine street on November 7th.

Later in the evening the letters left by the dead girl were taken to Hemingray, but he refused to read them, saying that he could not stand the shock. When the contents were told him he admitted having scolded his wife and also had told her that he did not want her to talk to him. He said he was nervous and sick when he upbraided her.

The dead girl was the stepdaughter of T. F. Campiglio, organist and soloist in many leading churches in Cincinnati. She was infatuated with Young Corbett, the pugilist, until she met Hemingray. Mrs. Campiglio, her mother, says that she married Hemingray four months ago, and seemed to be happy.