“Yesterday morning about one o’clock, the attention of two police
officers was attracted by the figure of an old man driving at a rapid
rate down a Cincinnati street followed by a crowd of men and boys
running after him, hooting and hollowing ‘Stop him! Shoot him!’ and
the like. The officers called him to stop, but he only laid whip to
his horse and drove past them. The horse, however, was lame, and the
load in the wagon seemingly heavy and after a short race one of the
officers grasped the bridle while the other took charge of the driver.
The driver was Old Cunny, who, returning after a night’s work at his
ghoulish employment, had been delayed on his road home by an accident
to his vehicle. In the wagon was found a sack containing the dead body
of a man, while a similar package on the seat beside him contained the
remains of a child, a boy ten or twelve years old.”
Cunny was taken to the police station and ensconced behind iron bars;
his contraband was put in charge of the coroner, and he entered a plea
of not guilty. After paying bail to the sum of $300.00, he was released
from custody to answer to the charge of illegal possession of dead human
bodies at the next session of the Common Pleas Court.
On September 12, 1871, there appears a statement in the same newspaper
to the effect that Cunningham had been indicted on five counts. No
record could be found as to whether or not he appeared in Court to
answer these charges or whether or not he was found guilty and
sentenced. The next news we hear of him is in the October 23, 1871,
issue of the newspaper in which it is mentioned for the first time that
Old Cunny was a patient in the Cincinnati Hospital and that he “regarded
the announcement of his demise yesterday morning as an error.” The news
item goes on to say that he was suffering a temporary derangement of his
system from the use of too much poor whisky but that he promised to be
out in a few days ready for business, which he claimed was being sadly
neglected during his illness.