_General Burnside in Command.--My Connection with the Secret Service
Severed.--Reflections upon Important Events.--Conclusion._
On the evening of the seventh of November, following the battle of
Antietam, General McClellan was removed from the command of the Army of
the Potomac. After having spent weeks in the laborious effort of
reorganizing his forces, which had been severely shattered and weakened
by the hard marching and the still harder fighting in the recent battles
with Lee, the brave commander, upon the eve of an important forward
movement was deprived of his noble army. General Burnside was named as
his successor. Again had the political cabal at Washington succeeded in
their opposition to the noble commander of the Army of the Potomac, and
this time effectually.
McClellan's tardiness was the alleged cause of his removal. No one in
authority seemed to consider for a moment the necessity, which was
apparent to their immediate commander, of affording the Federal troops
an opportunity to recuperate from their exhausted condition. The serious
losses sustained at South Mountain, Crampton's Gap, and Antietam had
left the army badly disorganized, and the privations and hardships to
which they had been subjected, rendered a delay, for the purpose of
allowing the worn and weary soldiers time to rest and recuperate, an
absolute necessity. In the language of McClellan, "The Army had need of
rest." After the terrible experiences of battles and marches, with
scarcely an interval of repose, which they had gone through from the
time of leaving the Peninsula; the return to Washington; the defeat in
Virginia; the victory at South Mountain, and again at Antietam, it was
not surprising that they were, in a large degree, destitute of the
absolute necessities for effective duty. Shoes were worn out; blankets
were lost; clothing was in rags; the army was unfit for duty, and time
for rest and equipment was absolutely necessary.
McClellan at once notified the authorities of the condition of his
troops, and made the necessary requisitions on the proper departments
for the needed supplies. For some unaccountable reason--unaccountable to
this day--the supplies ordered were so slow in reaching the men, that
when, on the seventh of October, the command came for him to cross the
river into Virginia, and give battle to the enemy, a compliance with the
order was practically impossible.
Then, too, re-enforcements were needed. In ordering the advance, the
President, through the General-in-Chief, had submitted two plans, of
which McClellan could take his choice. One was to advance up the valley
of the Shenandoah with reenforcements of fifteen thousand troops, the
other was to cross the river between the enemy and Washington, in which
case he was to be reenforced with thirty thousand men. McClellan's first
inclination was to adopt the movement up the Shenandoah Valley,
believing, that, if he crossed the river into Virginia, Lee would be
enabled to promptly prevent success in that direction by at once
throwing his army into Maryland. Owing, however, to the delay of the
supplies in reaching the army, it was nearly the end of October before
the troops were ready to move. About the twenty-sixth, the army
commenced to cross at Harper's Ferry, and by the sixth of November the
advance upon the enemy was begun. On the night of the seventh,
therefore, when the order came relieving him from the command,
McClellan's advance guard was actually engaged with the enemy.
I had already learned that Longstreet was immediately in our front, near
Culpepper, while Jackson and Hill's forces were near Chester's and
Thornton's Gap, west of the Blue Ridge. McClellan had formed the plan of
attempting to divide the enemy, with the hope of forcing him to battle,
when it was believed, an easy victory would be achieved.
At this juncture, however, and when the army was in an excellent
condition to fight a great battle, when officers and men were
enthusiastic in their hopes of being able soon to strike an effective
blow, McClellan was removed, and Stanton had, at last, accomplished his
revenge. Not only this, but he had also secured the failure of, what was
undoubtedly destined to be, a great and decisively victorious campaign.
McClellan's plan on discovering the position of the enemy's forces, was
to strike in between Culpepper Court House and Little Washington, hoping
by this means to separate the rebel army, or at least to force their
retreat to Gordonsville, and then advance upon Richmond, either by way
of Fredericksburg or the Peninsula.
Burnside, on assuming the command, submitted a plan of his own, which
was to make a feint of doing, what McClellan really intended to do,
before adopting the move upon Fredericksburg or the Peninsula, and then
to advance from Fredericksburg.
This plan, however, did not meet the approval of General Halleck. That
General had a long conference with Burnside, at Warrenton. Here their
various plans were discussed, without either agreeing to the plan of the
other, and the matter was finally referred to the President for his
decision. After a further delay of several days, Mr. Lincoln adopted
Burnside's plan, and the advance was ordered.
The success of this plan depended upon the immediate possession of
Fredericksburg by the Federal army. The intelligent student knows full
well that this was not even _attempted_ until Lee had ample time to
heavily re-enforce the rebel army already there. The subsequent results
show Burnside's delay to have been fatal to his success.
There was a time when he could certainly have taken Fredericksburg, with
but little loss; but that time was passed when he permitted the enemy to
fully garrison the place, and make ample provision for its defense with
an army of nearly ninety thousand men.
At this time, however, my connection with the Army of the Potomac, and
with the military concerns of the government, ceased. Upon the removal
of General McClellan, I declined to act any further in the capacity in
which I had previously served, although strongly urged to do so by both
President Lincoln and the Secretary of War, Edwin M. Stanton.
From my earliest manhood, I had been an ardent and active abolitionist,
and I have endeavored to demonstrate this fact throughout these pages.
My deep admiration, therefore, for General McClellan, was the result of
my knowledge, of my intimate acquaintance with him, and a consequent
high regard, based upon his innate and intrinsic qualities, both as a
man and a soldier, and not from any political affinity whatever.
Refusing longer to continue with the army under its new commander, I was
afterwards employed by the government in the work of investigating the
numerous claims that were presented against the United States. While
acting in this capacity, I was instrumental in unearthing a vast number
of fraudulent claims, and, in bringing to justice a large number of men
who were engaged in the base attempt to swindle and defraud the nation
in the dark hours of her need and peril.
In the Spring of 1864, I was transferred to the Department of the
Mississippi, under General Canby, and my headquarters were located at
New Orleans. Here I was engaged in looking after cotton claims, and the
frauds which were sought to be perpetrated against the government in
that region of the country.
In 1865, I severed my connection with the "Secret Service of the United
States," and returned to Chicago, where I have since been engaged in the
active prosecution of my profession as a detective.
Very often, as I sit in the twilight, my mind reverts back to those
stirring scenes of by-gone days; to those years of war and its
consequent hardships, and I recall with pleasure my own connection with
the suppression of the rebellion. My subsequent life has been none the
less happy because of my having assisted, as best as I could, in putting
down that gigantic act of attempted disunion, and in upholding the flag
of our fathers. More than all do I rejoice in the freedom it brought to
nearly half a million of people, who, prior to that time, had been held
in inhuman bondage,--striking the shackles from their bruised limbs, and
placing them before the law free and independent.
My task is done. In a few brief pages I have attempted to depict the
work of years. The war is over, the rebellion has been crushed, peace
and plenty are everywhere apparent. The flag of the Union floats from
every port in the United States, the slave is free, the South is
recovering from the ravages of war, and the stories of those stirring
times seem now like the legends of an olden time.
* * * * *
One more scene remains, and I will then draw the curtain.
It is a Sabbath morning, the air is fragrant with blossom and flower,
the birds are carolling sweetly a requiem for the dead. Around us,
sleeping the sleep that knows no waking, lie the forms of those whom we
knew and loved. We are in the "city of the dead." The wind sighs through
the waving branches of the trees, with a mournful melody, suggestive of
the place. Near by is the bustling city, but here we are surrounded only
by the mute, though eloquent testimonies of man's eternal rest. Here
beneath a drooping willow let us pause awhile. Flowers are blooming
over a mound of earth, saturating the atmosphere with a grateful aroma.
Let us lean over while we read what is inscribed upon the marble tablet.
SACRED
TO THE MEMORY OF
TIMOTHY WEBSTER,
WHO
WAS EXECUTED AS A SPY,
BY THE
REBELS, IN RICHMOND, VA.,
APRIL 29, 1862,
AFTER GALLANT SERVICE IN THE WAR
OF THE REBELLION.
HE SEALED HIS FIDELITY AND DEVOTION
TO HIS COUNTRY
WITH HIS BLOOD.
Alike to him are the heats of summer, or the snows of winter.
Peacefully and quietly he sleeps. The Spy of the Rebellion is at rest.
APPENDIX.
THE HARDSHIPS AND PRIVATIONS OF A DETECTIVE'S LIFE
Every person who may have survived the experience has undoubtedly a
lively recollection of the wild groups of people which the building of
the Union and Central Pacific Railroads brought together from all
directions, and from all causes.
There were millions upon millions of dollars to be expended; and as the
points of construction neared each other, and the twin bands of iron
crept along the earth's surface like two huge serpents, spanning mighty
rivers, penetrating vast mountains, and trailing through majestic
forests, creeping slowly but surely towards each other, there was always
the greatest dread at the most advanced points, which, like the heads of
serpents, always contained danger and death; and the vast cities of a
day that then sprang into existence, and melted away like
school-children's snow-houses, were the points where such wild scenes
were enacted as will probably never again occur in the history of
railroad building.
Everything contributed to make these places typical of Babelic
confusion, or Pandemoniac contention. Foreigners were told of the
exhaustless work, and the exhaustless wealth, of this new country which
was being so rapidly developed, and they came; men--brave men, too--who
had been on the wrong side during the late irritation, and who had lost
all, having staked all on the result of the war, saw a possible
opportunity of retrieving their fortunes rapidly, and they came; the
big-headed youth of the village whose smattering of books at the
academy, or the seminary, had enlarged his brain and contracted his
sense so that he was too good for the common duties and everyday
drudgeries which, with patience, lead to success, learned of the glory
and grandeur of that new land, and he came; the speculating shirk and
the peculating clerk came; the almond-eyed sons of the Orient in
herds--herds of quick-witted, patient, plodding beings who could be
beaten, starved, even murdered--came; the forger, the bruiser, the
counterfeiter, the gambler, the garroter, the prostitute, the robber,
and the murderer, each and every, came; there was adventure for the
adventurous, gold for the thief, waiting throats for the murderer; while
the few respectable people quickly became discouraged, and fell into
the general looseness of habits that the loose life engendered, and
gradually grew reckless as the most reckless, or quickly acquiesced in
the wild orgies or startling crimes which were of common occurrence. In
fact, as in the human system, when any portion of it becomes diseased
and all the poison in the blood flows to it, further corrupting and
diseasing it until arrested by a gradual purification of the whole body,
or by some severe treatment, so from every portion of the country flowed
these streams of morally corrupt people, until nearly every town west of
Missouri, or east of the mountains, along these lines, became a terror
to honest people, and continued so until an irresistible conflict
compelled a moral revulsion, sometimes so sweeping and violent as to
cause an application of that unwritten, though often exceedingly just
law, the execution of which leaves offenders dangling to limbs of trees,
lamp-posts, and other convenient points of suspension.
As a rule, in these places, every man, whatever his business and
condition, was thoroughly armed, the question of self-defense being a
paramount one, from the fact that laws which governed older communities
were completely a dead letter; and the law of might, in a few instances
made somewhat respectable by a faint outline of ruffianly honor, alone
prevailed, until advancing civilization and altered conditions brought
about a better state of society; so that in these reckless crowds which
pushed after the constantly changing termini of the approaching roads,
any instrument of bloodshed was considered valuable, and stores where
arms and ammunition could be secured did quite as large a trade as those
devoted to any other branch of business; while so outrageous was the
price extorted for these instruments of aggression or defense, that they
have often been known to sell for their weight in gold; and just as,
during the war, the army was followed by enterprising traders who turned
many an honest penny trafficking at the heels of the weary soldiers, so
the same class of people were not slow to take advantage of such
opportunities for gigantic profits which, though often lessened by the
many risks run in such trading, were still heavy enough to prove
peculiarly attractive.
As a consequence, there were many firms engaged in this particular
business, but probably the heaviest was that of Kuhn Brothers, who were
reported to be worth upwards of one hundred thousand dollars, which had
principally been made along the line of the road, and who, with
headquarters at Cheyenne, had established various "stores" at different
points as the Union Pacific was pushed on, always keeping the largest
stock at the most advanced point, and withdrawing stocks from the paper
cities which had been left behind, though only in those towns which had
not been altogether destroyed by the periodical exodus occasioned by
each change of terminus.
For this reason the firms were obliged to entrust their business to the
honesty of many different employes, who were subject to the vitiating
influences and temptations, which were unusual and severe under the
circumstances already mentioned, while the distances between the points,
and the scarcity of secure means of safely keeping the large sums of
money which would occasionally unavoidably accrue at certain points,
left Kuhn Brothers, in many instances, really dependent on those
dependent on them.
In this condition of affairs, and after a slight defalcation had
occurred at one of their smaller stores in the spring of 1867, the firm
were seeking a man whom they could place in actual charge of one or two
of their establishments at the larger towns, and give a sort of general
supervision over the others, when the senior member of the firm, being
in Laramie, casually met a young gentleman, who happened to be able to
do him so great a favor that the incident led to a close friendship and
ultimate business relations, eventually resulting in this narrative of
facts.
It was a pleasant May evening, and Mr. Kuhn had decided to returned to
Cheyenne in order to secure a proper man for the superintendency nearer
home. He was to have left Laramie for the East at a late hour of the
evening and, being at a loss how to pass the intervening time, strolled
out from the hotel with no particular destination in view and his mind
fully occupied with the cares of his business, only occasionally
noticing some peculiarity or strange sight more than usually striking
among the thousands of weird things, to which his frontier business had
compelled him to become accustomed, when suddenly he found himself in
front of a mammoth dance-house, and, yielding to a momentary impulse of
curiosity, turned into the place with the stream of gamblers,
adventurers, greasers, and, in fact, everybody respectable or otherwise,
who, so far from civilization, found such a place peculiarly attractive.
The dance-house was a sort of hell's bazaar, if the term may be
allowed--and it is certainly the one most befitting it--and was really
no "house" at all, being merely a very large board enclosure covered
with a gigantic tent or series of tents, bedecked with flags and gaudy
streamers. The entrance fee to this elegant place of amusement was one
dollar, and you had only paid an initiatory fee when you had gained
admission.
On either side as you entered were immense bars, built of the roughest
of boards, where every kind of liquid poison was dispensed at the
moderate sum of twenty-five cents a drink, five-cent cigars selling at
the same price, and the united efforts of a half-dozen murderous looking
bar-tenders at each side were required to assuage the thirst of the
quite as murderous looking crowd that swayed back and forth within the
space evidently prepared for that purpose.
Beyond this point, and to either side, as also down the center for some
distance, could be found almost every known game of chance, dealt, of
course, "by the house," while surrounding the lay-outs were every
description of men crazed with drink, flushed with success, or deathly
pale from sudden ruin; while everywhere the revolver or the bowie
intimated with what terrible swiftness and certainty any trifling
dispute, rankling grudge, or violent insult would be settled, one way or
the other, and to be marked by the mere pitching of an inanimate form
into the street!
After these attractions came a stout partition which had evidently been
found necessary, for beyond it there was the strikingly strange heaven
of a mushroom city--a vast department where there were music and women;
and it seemed that the "management" of this grand robbers' roost had
shrewdly calculated on the fact that if a poor fool had not been
swindled out of every dollar he might have had before he reached this
point, those two elements, all powerful for good or evil the world over,
would wring the last penny from him.
Here was another but a finer bar, where more time was taken to prepare a
drink and drug a man with some show of artistic excellence, and where a
half dollar was changed for a single measure of poison; women,--shrewd,
devilish women who could shoot or cut, if occasion required, with the
nicety and effect of a man,--"steering" every person giving token of
having money in his possession to the more genteelly gotten up
"lay-outs," and acting in the same capacity, only with far more
successful results, as the ordinary "ropers-in" of any large city; a
wild, discordant orchestra that would have been hooted out of the lowest
of the "varieties" east of the Missouri; but in this place, and to these
ears, so long unused to the music of the far-away homes beyond the
Mississippi, producing the very perfection of enchanting harmonies; but
above all, and the crowning attraction before which every other thing
paled and dwindled to insignificance, a score of abandoned women,
dancing and ogling with every manner of man, robbing them while
embracing, cheering and drinking with them, and in every way bedeviling
them; the whole forming a scene viler than imagination or the pen of man
can conceive or picture; grouping of wild orgies and terrible
debaucheries, such as would put Lucifer to a blush, and compel a
revolution in the lowest depths of Hades.
Kuhn had strolled through the place, and now, out of compliment to
general custom, purchased a cigar and was just turning to depart, when
he suddenly found himself being hustled back and forth among several
hard-looking fellows, who, evidently knowing his business, and surmising
that he carried large sums of money upon his person, had determined to
provoke him to resistance; when there would, according to the social
codes then in existence at Laramie, have been a just cause for either
robbing and beating him, or murdering him outright and robbing him
afterwards; when a tall, finely-formed man suddenly stepped into the
crowd, and in a very decided tone of voice said:
"I say, gentlemen, that won't do. You must stand back!"
Then taking the terror-stricken ammunition dealer by the coat collar
with his left hand, but keeping his right hand free for quick use and
certain work, if necessary, he trotted him through the now excited
throng and out into the open air, hastily telling him to "cut for the
hotel," which were quite unnecessary instructions, as he made for that
point at as lively a gait as his rather dumpy legs could carry him.
The person who had thus prevented the merchant's being robbed, and had
also possibly saved his life, was a tall, comely young man of about
twenty-eight years of age, and with a complexion as fair as a woman's,
pleasant, though determined, blue eyes, and a long, reddish, luxuriant
beard, all of which, with a decidedly military cut to his gray, woollen
garments, and long fair hair falling upon his shoulders--the whole
crowned, or rather slouched over, by a white hat of extraordinary width
of brim, gave him the appearance of an ex-Confederate officer, and right
good fellow, as the term goes, perfectly capable of caring for himself
wherever his fortune, or misfortune, might lead him, which proved the
case as he turned and confronted the desperadoes, who had immediately
followed him in a threatening manner, and whom he stood ready to receive
with a navy revolver half as long as his arm, mysteriously whipped from
some hiding-place, in each steady hand.
A critical examination of the man as he stood there, and a very casual
survey of him, for that matter, would have instantly suggested the fact
to an ordinary observer that a very cool man at the rear ends of two
navy revolvers huge enough to have been mounted for light-artillery
service, was something well calculated to check the mounting ambition on
the part of most anybody to punish him for the character of the
interference shown; and the leader of the gang contented himself with
remarking, "See here, Captain Harry, if it wasn't you, there'd be a
reck'ning here; lively, too, I'm tellin' ye!"
"Well, but it _is_ me; and so there won't be any reck'ning. Will there,
now, eh?"
The ruffians made no answer, but sullenly returned to the dance-house,
when Captain Harry, as he had been called, rammed the two huge revolvers
into his boot legs, which action displayed a smaller weapon of the same
kind upon each hip; after which he nodded a pleasant "good-night" to the
bystanders, and walked away leisurely in the direction Mr. Kuhn had
taken, pleasantly whistling "The Bonnie Blue Flag," or "The Star
Spangled Banner," as best suited him.
The moment that Mr. Kuhn's protector appeared at the hotel, the former
gentleman expressed his liveliest thanks for the opportune assistance he
had been rendered, and introduced himself to the Captain, who already
knew of him, and who in return gave his name as "Harry G. Taylor, the
man from somewhere," as he himself expressed it with a pleasant laugh.
It was easy to be seen that there was a stroke of business in Mr. Kuhn's
eye, which his escape from the dance-house had suggested, as he told
Taylor that he had intended to return to Cheyenne that night; but he
further stated that as he had so unexpectedly been befriended, he should
certainly be obliged to remain another day in order to secure a further
acquaintance with the man to whom he already owed so much.
Mr. Kuhn then produced some choice cigars, and the gentlemen secured a
retired place upon the hotel-porch, at once entering into a general
conversation, which, from the merchant's evident unusual curiosity, and
Taylor's quite as evident good-humored, devil-may-care disposition,
caused it to drift into the Captain's account of himself.
He told Mr. Kuhn that his family resided at that time in Philadelphia,
where they had moved after his father had failed in business at Raleigh,
N. C., but had taken so honorable a name with him to the former city
that he had been able to retrieve his fortunes to some extent. The
Captain was born at Raleigh, and had received his education in the
South, and, being unable to share in his father's regard for the North,
even as a portion of the country best adapted for doing business, sought
out some of his old college friends in Louisville, Atlanta, and New
Orleans, who had been able to secure him a fine business position at
Atlanta, where by care and economy in 1860, though but a mere boy yet,
he had accumulated property that would have satisfied many a man twenty
years his senior.
Being impulsive, and a warm admirer of Southern institutions, he was one
of the first men to join the Confederate army at Atlanta, and fought in
a Georgia regiment under Johnson and Hood during the entire war, at
Jonesville and Rough-and-Ready Station seeing the smoke ascend above the
ruins of the once beautiful city, and realizing that the most of his
earthly possessions had disappeared when the flames died away.
Having been promoted to a captaincy, he had fought as bravely as he
could against the "blue-coats," like a man, acknowledging their bravery
as well as that of his comrades; and at the close of the war, which of
course terminated disadvantageously to his interests, he had sold his
lots at Atlanta for whatever he could get for them, and with thousands
of others in like circumstances, had come West and taken his chances at
retrieving his fortunes.
This was told in a frank, straightforward way, which seemed to
completely captivate Mr. Kuhn, for he at once spoke to Taylor concerning
his business in Laramie, and bluntly asked him, in the event of mutual
and satisfactory references being exchanged, whether he would accept the
engagement as superintendent of his business over that portion of the
road, and take actual charge of the store in that place, and the one
about to be established at Benton City.
The result of the evening's interview was the engagement of Taylor by
the firm at a large salary; his immediately taking supervision of the
business without bonds or any security whatever; and for a time his
management and habits were so able and irreproachable that, with the
gratitude for his protection of Mr. Kuhn at Laramie still fresh and
sincere, the firm felt that they had been most fortunate in their
selection of an utter stranger, and were in every way gratified with the
turn events had taken.
II.
During the early morning of a blustering December day of the same year,
I was quite annoyed by the persistence of a gentleman to see me, on what
he insisted, in the business office of my Chicago agency, on terming
"important business."
It was not later than half-past eight o'clock; and, as I have made it a
life-long practice to get at business at an early hour, get ahead of it,
and keep ahead of it during the day, I was elbow-deep in the mass of
letters, telegrams, and communications of a different nature, which, in
my business, invariably accumulates during the night, and felt anxious
to wade through it before taking up any other matter.
The gentleman, who gave the name of Kuhn, seemed very anxious to see me,
however; and letting drop the statements that he greatly desired to take
the morning train for Cheyenne, where he resided; might not be able to
be in Chicago again for some time; felt very desirous of seeing me
personally; and would require but a few moments to explain his business,
which he agreed to make explicit; I concluded to drop everything else
and see him.
On being ushered into my private apartments, he at once hastily gave me
an outline of the facts related in the previous chapter, adding a new
series of incidents which occasioned his visit, and to the effect that
the firm had made the necessary arrangements for increasing their
business under their new superintendent, having added largely to their
stock at Laramie, and placed about twenty thousand dollars' worth of
goods at Benton City.
According to the agreement, he was required to forward money whenever
the sales had reached a stated sum at each point, and was given
authority to take charge of goods or moneys on hand at any of the less
important stations, when convinced that things were being run loosely,
or whenever it in any way appeared for the interests of the firm for him
to do so.
It will be seen that under this arrangement, which was in every respect
injudicious, no security having been given by Taylor, he immediately
became possessed of great responsibility, as well as power; but appeared
to appreciate the unusual confidence reposed in him, and conducted the
business of Kuhn Brothers with unusual profit to them and credit to
himself. Matters progressed in this way for some time, when suddenly,
about the first of October, the firm at Cheyenne began to receive
dispatches from different employees along the road, inquiring when
Taylor was to return from Cheyenne, and intimating that business was
greatly suffering from his absence. The members of the firm were
astonished. They knew nothing of Taylor's being in Cheyenne. On the
contrary, their last advices from him were to the effect that he should
be at their city on the tenth of that month, with large collections; and
the announcement was accompanied with glowing accounts of the prosperity
of their business under his careful management.
After the startling intelligence of Taylor's unaccountable absence, a
member of the firm immediately left for Laramie, Benton City, and other
points, to ascertain the true condition of affairs, still unable to
believe that the handsome, chivalrous captain had wronged them, and that
everything would be found right upon examination of matters which was
immediately and searchingly entered upon; but the first glance at
affairs showed conclusively that they had been swindled, and it was soon
discovered that he had gathered together at the stores under his own
charge, and at different points along the line, under various pretexts,
fully fourteen thousand dollars, and had been given two weeks in which
to escape.
Mr. Kuhn did not desire to give the case into my hands on that morning;
but explained that he had returned from a fruitless trip to Philadelphia
in search of his former superintendent, and had been advised by a
telegram from his brothers to lay the case before me and request my
advice about the matter; at the same time securing information about the
probable pecuniary outlay necessary for further prosecution of the
search, and such other items of information as would enable him to
counsel with the remainder of the firm concerning the case, and be able
to give the case into my hands, should they decide to do so, without
further delay.
This was given him; and I, in turn, secured from Mr. Kuhn all the
information possible concerning Taylor, which was scant indeed, as they
had seen very little of him, could give but a very general description
of the man, and here they had injudiciously given him over two months'
start, during which time he might have safely got to the other side of
the world.
Only one item of information had been developed by which a clue to his
whereabouts could by any possibility be imagined. He had often spoken to
Mr. Kuhn in the most glowing terms of life in both Texas and Mexico, as
he had passed, so he had said, a portion of a year in that part of
America, since the close of the war, and in connection with the subject,
he had stated that he should have remained there had he been supplied
with sufficient capital to have enabled him to begin business.
This was all; and I dismissed the swindled merchant with little
encouragement as to the result of a chase for a thief who had got so
much the advantage, or, rather, intimated to him that though I had no
doubts of being able to eventually catch him, it would be rather a poor
investment for the firm to expend the amount of money which might be
necessary to effect his capture, unless, in looking into the matter
further, I should be able to see opportunities for securing much better
knowledge as to his present whereabouts, or clues which could be made to
lead to them.
With this not very cheering assurance, Mr. Kuhn returned to Cheyenne.
Not hearing from the firm for several days, I finally dismissed the
matter entirely from mind; but on arriving at the agency one morning, I
received instructions from the Cheyenne firm to proceed in the matter,
and with all expedition possible endeavor to cage the flown bird for
them.
I at once detailed William A. Pinkerton, my eldest son, and at present
assistant superintendent of my Chicago agency, to proceed to Cheyenne,
and look over the ground thoroughly there, and also, if necessary, to
proceed along the line of the Union Pacific, and, after ascertaining who
were Taylor's friends and companions, work up a trail through them,
which would eventually bring him down.
The latter course was not necessary to be followed, however, as on
arriving at Cheyenne, with some little information gleaned from the
firm, he was able to ascertain that a young lawyer there named La
Grange, also originally from the South, had been a quite intimate friend
of Taylor's--so much so, in fact, that La Grange had for the last six
months regularly corresponded with the Captain's sister, who had been
described to him as not only an exceedingly beautiful woman, but as also
a lady possessed of unusual accomplishments and amiability.
My son "cultivated" La Grange largely, but could secure but little
information through him. He seemed to know nothing further concerning
either Taylor or his family, save that he had incidentally met him along
the line of the Union Pacific; they had naturally taken a sort of liking
to each other, and in that way became friends in much the same manner
that most friendships were made in that country. He further recollected
that he had always directed his letters to a certain post-office box,
instead of to a street number; but seemed perfectly mystified concerning
the action of the brother. He had just returned from a three months'
absence in Kentucky, and it was the first intimation he had had of the
Captain's crime. La Grange also said that as he had been very busy, he
had not written to Miss Lizzie (evidently referring to the sister), nor
had he received any communication from her during that time. He had had
a photograph of Harry, taken in full-dress uniform while stationed at
Atlanta, which had been copied in Philadelphia, but a thorough search
among his papers failed to reveal it.
This was all that my son could secure, as La Grange, evidently
suspecting that, in his surprise at Taylor's crime, he might say
something to compromise himself and endanger Taylor or wound his
beautiful sister, to whom he seemed greatly attached, positively refused
to have anything further to say concerning the matter; and with what
information he had, William returned to the hotel in a brown study,
determined to take time to exhaust the material at Cheyenne before
proceeding on the proposed trip along the Union Pacific.
After summing up and arranging the points he had got hold of, he
telegraphed me fully, adding his own impression that Taylor was in
Texas, but expressing a doubt as to whether he had better proceed along
the Union Pacific for more information, or go on to Philadelphia at
once, and in some way secure information of the family as to their son's
whereabouts.
On the receipt of this telegram, which arrived in Chicago about noon, I
at once resolved upon a little strategy, being myself satisfied that
Taylor had proceeded, _via_ St. Louis and New Orleans into either Texas
or Mexico, and was then engaged under his own or an assumed name, in
some business agreeable to his taste, as formerly explained to Mr. Kuhn,
and immediately telegraphed to my son:
"Keep La Grange busied all day so he cannot write, or mail letters.
Study La Grange's language and modes of expression. Get La Grange's and
Taylor's handwriting, signatures, and Miss Taylor's address, and come
next train."
Agreeable to these instructions, he secured several letters from Taylor
to Kuhn Brothers, concerning business matters, with the last one,
containing the announcement that he would be in Cheyenne on the tenth of
October with collections; and immediately sent by a messenger a
courteous note to La Grange, desiring an outline of Taylor's life so far
as he might feel justified in giving it, and requesting an answer, which
was politely but firmly given in the negative over Adolph La Grange's
own signature, which completed a portion of his work neatly.
The balance was more difficult. He ordered a sleigh, and after settling
his hotel bill, but reserving his room for the night, at once drove to
La Grange's office, where he in person thanked him for his courteous
letter, even if he did not feel justified in giving him the information
desired. A little complimentary conversation ensued during which time my
son's quick eyes noticed in the lawyer's waste-basket an envelope
evidently discarded on account of its soiled appearance, addressed to
"Miss Lizzie Taylor, Post-office Box ----, Philadelphia," which on the
first opportunity he appropriated. The next move was to _prevent_ La
Grange's mailing any letter, as it was evident he had written several,
including one to Taylor's sister, which were only waiting to be mailed.
Seeing that he had made a pleasant impression upon La Grange, who
appreciated the courtesy of the call under the circumstances, and
informing him that he had decided to make no further inquiries there,
but was to proceed west on the following morning, he prevailed upon him
to take a ride in his company about the city and its environs. In
leaving his office, La Grange hesitated a moment as if deciding the
propriety of taking the letters with him, or returning for them after
the sleigh-ride; but evidently decided to do the latter, as he left
them, much to my son's relief.
The drive was prolonged as much as possible, and the outlying forts
visited, where, having letters of introduction from myself to several
army-officers stationed there, both he and his companion were so
hospitably treated that the afternoon slipped away quickly, and the two
returned to town evidently in high spirits. La Grange felt compelled to
reciprocate as far as in his power, and billiards, with frequent drinks
for the lawyer and a liberal supply of water for the detective, were in
order until within a half hour of the eastern bound train time, when La
Grange succumbed to an accumulation of good-fellowship, and on his own
suggestion, as he "wash rising y'n'g 'torny y'know!" accepted the
hospitalities of my son's room, at the Rawlins House, where he left him
sweetly sleeping at a rate which would prevent the mailing of the
letters he had left locked in his office for at least two days to come;
as "rising young attorneys," as a rule, sober off in a carefully
graduated diminishing scale of excesses of quite similar construction to
the original.
On the arrival of my son in Chicago, I immediately caused to be written
a letter addressed to Miss Lizzie Taylor, at her post-office box in
Philadelphia, of which the following is a copy:
"SHERMAN HOUSE, CHICAGO, Jan. 1868.
"MISS TAYLOR,
"MY DEAR FRIEND:--You know of my intended absence from
Cheyenne in the South. During that trip, I really never had
the time when I could write you so fully as I desired, and
even now I am only able to send you a few words. I am _en
route_ to Washington on business, and have now to ask you
to send the street and number of your father's house, even
if it is not a magnificent one, as you have told me, to my
address, at the Girard House, in your city, on receipt of
this, as I shall be in Washington but one day, and would
wish to see both you and your people without delay. I not
only greatly wish to see you for _selfish reasons_, which
our long and pleasant correspondence will suggest to you as
both reasonable and natural, but there are other good
reasons, which you all will readily understand when I tell
you that I met _him_ accidentally just before my return to
Cheyenne, and that I have a communication of a personal
nature to deliver. While not upholding him in the step he
has taken, I cannot forget that I am his friend, and he your
brother.
"In great haste,
"Your true friend,
"ADOLPH LA G----,
"P.S.--I leave here for the East this morning. Please answer
on immediate receipt.
A. L."
This was posted on the eastern-bound train not an hour after my son's
arrival from the West; and another note was written upon the back of an
envelope which had passed through the mail, and had got a very much used
appearance, and ran thus:
"FATHER OF LIZZIE:
"Treat Adolph well, you can trust him. Give him one of the
'photos' taken at Atlanta in my full-dress uniform; keep one
other of the same for yourselves; but destroy all the rest.
Have been so hurried and worried that I don't remember
whether I have said anything about photographs before. But
this is a matter of _imperative necessity_. Adolph will
explain how he met me.
"Good-by,
"H. ----"
It was impossible to detect any difference between this handwriting and
that of Captain Taylor's in his business correspondence to Kuhn
Brothers; and, armed with this document, with the assistance of the
epistolary self-introduction which had preceded it, I directed my son to
leave for Philadelphia that evening, secure admission to Taylor's
residence and the family's confidence, agreeable to the appointment made
by mail, and thus not only secure the man's photograph, but other
information that would be definite.
On arrival at Philadelphia, he secured the services of an operative from
my agency in that city, to follow any member of the Taylor family who
might call for the letter, to their residence, in the event of an answer
not being received at his hotel in due time from the one assumed to have
been sent from the hotel in Chicago from La Grange, who found Taylor's
home, an unpretentious house on Locust street, while my son remained at
the hotel, fully expecting the coveted invitation to visit the Captain's
beautiful sister, which arrived at his hotel only a half day after he
did, and strongly urged him to call at his convenience.
He was satisfied from this that our theory regarding his being in Texas,
or Mexico, was correct; that the family had not the slightest suspicion
of his identity, and that, wherever Captain Taylor might be,
communication with his people had been very infrequent, and that, with
what he would be able to invent after being received at Taylor's house,
he could secure at least sufficient information to put him upon his
son's trail. Not desiring to play upon their feelings and friendship as
another person any longer than necessary, however, he sent word by a
messenger, not daring to trust his own handwriting, that he would call
that evening, though necessarily at a late hour; and, accordingly, that
evening, about nine o'clock, found him at the door of a pleasant Locust
street cottage, ringing for admission.
A tall, handsome young woman greeted him at the door, and accordingly
bade him enter, saying pleasantly, as she ushered him into the cozy
little parlor, that she was Miss Lizzie Taylor, and presumed he was Mr.
La Grange, with whom she had had so long and so pleasant a
correspondence; and of whom "poor Harry," as she said with a shade of
sadness and tenderness in her voice, had so often written, before he had
made his terrible mistake, and become a wanderer.
After hastily satisfying her that he was the genuine La Grange, and
profusely apologizing for his not having written for so long a time
previous to his arrival at Chicago, from Cheyenne, he took up the
thread she had dropped, as quickly as possible, and said that he felt
sure that Harry would retrieve himself soon, and return the money, as he
had no bad habits, and everything would be all right again.
"But yet, Mr. La Grange," she continued, "it makes me shudder whenever I
think of all my brothers being away off there on the Rio Grande, among
those terrible people!"
"But, you must remember," he replied, encouragingly, "they are strong
men, and can well defend themselves under any circumstances."
"Harry is strong and brave, I know," answered Miss Taylor, rather
admiringly; "but brother Robert is not fit for such a life. Why, he is
but a boy yet."
"Ah, a younger brother?" he thought, making a mental note of it, in
order to assist in shaping his conversation after which he said aloud:
"I almost forgot to give you this note;" and he took the piece of
envelope out of his note-book, as if it had been sacredly guarded, and
handed it to her.
Miss Taylor read the hastily written lines with evident emotion; and
after studying a moment, as if endeavoring to reconcile matters, while
her face was being searchingly read by an experienced detective, she
rose, and, apologizing to him for the absence of her father, who was in
New York, on business, and of her mother, who was confined to her
apartment, a confirmed invalid, she asked to be excused so as to show
the note to her mother.
The instant the door closed, my son had seized the album, which he had
located during the preceding conversation; and rapidly turned its leaves
to assure himself that he was not treading on dangerous ground. He found
a half-a-dozen different styles of pictures of the Captain, including
three of the copies taken in Philadelphia of the original Atlanta
picture, and felt reassured beyond measure at the lucky turn things had
taken. He would have abstracted one of these, but it was impossible, and
had barely time to return the album to the table, and himself to his
seat, when he heard the woman's step along the hall, and in a moment
more she entered the room.
III.
Giving the door a little impulsive slam, as she closed it, Miss Taylor
at once came to where my son was sitting upon the sofa, and seated
herself beside him. She said that her mother was anxious beyond measure
to learn how and where he had met Harry, how he was looking, and what he
had said.
The imagination and resources of the able detective are fully equal to
those of the most brilliant newspaper reporters, and a pleasant and
plausible fiction was invented, how he (as La Grange, of course), having
taken a run from Louisville down to New Orleans, by boat, was just
landing at the levee, when he suddenly came across Harry, who had
hastily told him all; how great had been his transgression, how deeply
he had regretted it; but that now he was situated in his business
matters so that, if let alone, he would be able to return to Kuhn
Brothers every dollar which he had taken, and have a fine business left;
how it had been necessary for him to come to New Orleans on imperative
business, and that he should not come east of the Mississippi again
under any circumstances. He further said, that Harry seemed hopeful;
that he had stated that his younger brother Robert was well and enjoying
the frontier life; and that, further than that, he had no time or
disposition to talk, as he was on the very eve of departure for Texas,
only having time to write the little note concerning the photographs.
Miss Taylor excused herself for a moment to convey the truthful
intelligence to her anxious mother; and on her return suggested that
they go through the album together at once, and attend to the
photographs, an invitation which was accepted with unusual readiness.
Every gentleman who has had the experience, and there are few who have
not, know that looking over an album with a beautiful woman who has
some interest in her companion, is a wonderfully pleasant diversion. In
this instance it was doubly pleasant, for it meant success to my son,
whose zeal is as untiring as my own when once on the trail of a
criminal.
"I wonder why," asked Miss Taylor, as if wondering as much about Mr. La
Grange as about any other subject; "I wonder why Harry desires those
photographs destroyed?"
He was turning the leaves for her and, as La Grange, of course, had a
perfect right to take plenty of time to explain the matter soothingly
and sympathetically.
"But do those horrid detectives track a man out and run him down, when,
if he were let alone, he might recover from his misfortune, and right
the wrong he has done?"
Mr. La Grange remarked that he had heard that some of them were very
much lacking in sentiment and sensibility, and would go right forward
through the very fire itself to trace the whereabouts of a criminal; and
all those little things helped, he could assure her.
She began to see how it was, she said; but suddenly firing up, she shook
her pretty fist at some imaginary person, exclaiming:
"Oh, I could kill the man who would thus dog my brother Harry." And
then, after a little April shower of tears, quite like any other woman's
way of showing how very desperate they can be under certain
circumstances, began slowly taking the Captain's pictures from the
album, commenting upon them, and then handing them to the bogus La
Grange to burn, who would occasionally step to the fire-place for that
purpose, where he would quickly substitute miscellaneous business cards,
which answered the purpose excellently.
An hour or two was passed with Miss Taylor in conversation upon various
topics which might lead the really estimable young lady to divulge all
she knew about the Captain, or concerning his whereabouts and business,
which was certainly not much.
It appeared that, immediately after the embezzlement, and while at St.
Louis, Taylor had telegraphed to his brother Robert to meet him at New
Orleans at a certain time, as he was going into business in that
section, and should need his services, for which he would be able to pay
him handsomely; the brothers had met there and had proceeded to some
other point; the Captain claiming that it would be injudicious to make
that fact known, as he had also sent a full and complete confession to
his parents of his embezzlement from Kuhn Brothers, which he had
directed them to burn, and which he finished by requesting his family
not to write to either himself or his brother for some time to come; or
at least until he should indicate to them that it would be safe to do
so; and under no circumstances to give any person an iota of
information concerning himself or his brother.
My son left Miss Taylor's hospitable home with a pang of regret for the
deception which had seemed necessary in this case; for whatever may be
the opinion of the public regarding the matter, a detective has often
quite as large and compassionate a soul as men of other and apparently
more high-toned professions.
So long as intelligent crime is the result of a high standard of mental
culture and a low standard of moral conscience--conditions which now
exist and have for some years existed--intelligent minds must be trained
to battle criminals with their own weapons; and these two questions, of
speedy detection of crime and swift punishment of criminals will be
found quite as essential to a preservation of law and society as lofty
arguments or high moral dissertations on the right or wrong of the
expediencies necessary to bring wrong-doers to immediate and certain
justice.
As soon as I had received a full telegraphic report of the success of
the Philadelphia experiment, I directed him to proceed to Louisville,
where he would be met by operative Keating, from Chicago, who would
bring letters of introduction from myself to Colonel Wood, commanding
the First Infantry at New Orleans; Captain White, chief of the detective
force of that city; General Canby, commanding the Department of Texas,
at Austin; Col. Hunt, Chief Quartermaster of the Department of Texas,
and other army officers, requesting them to render my son and his
assistant any aid in their power should the necessity for such
assistance arise; the requisition from Governor Foulke, of Dakotah
Territory, for Henry G. Taylor, upon Governor Pease, of Texas, and
general instructions concerning his conduct of the search for the
handsome captain after he had got beyond mail and telegraphic
communication.
I was sending him into a country which was at that time in many portions
utterly unsafe for the securing of a criminal should the pursuer's
mission become known, so as to allow the person desired time to apprise
his friends of his danger, or give him even an opportunity to rally any
number of acquaintances for defense; for the reason that, as Texas had
become a sort of refuge for ruffians, they became clannish through the
general peril of being pursued each experienced; and would, as a rule,
on the slightest provocation, assist in the rescue of any person under
arrest, not knowing how soon it might be their turn to cry for help; but
I have invariably sent my sons into danger with the same expectation
that they would do their duty regardless of consequences, as I have had
when sending other men's sons into danger. Happily I have never mistaken
their metal; and, in this instance, felt sure that I could rely upon him
to exercise both discretion and intrepidity in exigencies to which his
long experience and careful training have at all times made him equal.
The two detectives met in Louisville, and at once proceeded to New
Orleans, where they arrived early in the morning of the 7th of January,
1868, and were driven to the St. Charles Hotel. No time was lost; and
while my son presented his letters to different parties, and made
cautious inquiries regarding the recent appearance in New Orleans of
Taylor, Keating, in the character of a provincial merchant, investigated
as far as possible the business houses dealing in stock, leather, or
wool, as to whether any such person had made arrangement for
consignments from the interior or seaport Texan cities. No trace of
their man was found, however, until my son was able to get at the
register of the St. Charles Hotel for the preceding three months, which
was attended with some difficulty, on account of the crowded condition
of things at that house; and any detective, or other expert, will
understand how much time and patience are required to discover one
signature from among ten thousand, when that one may be an assumed name,
and perhaps five hundred of the ten thousand be so similar to the one
sought, that a disinterested person could scarcely be convinced it was
really not the person's handwriting desired; but after a good deal of
trouble and searching, the names of "H. G. Taylor & clerk," were
discovered on the last half line at the bottom of a page under date of
November 30th, 1867, which, by constant wear and thumbing in turning
pages, had been nearly defaced, but which, in his handwriting, beyond a
doubt told the story of their presence.
Further inquiry of the clerk on duty at that time, and with his memory
refreshed by a glance at Taylor's photographs, developed the facts that
he had certainly been at the St. Charles on the date shown by the
register, and that he was accompanied by a young man about nineteen
years of age, who was recognized as Taylor's clerk.
The peculiar register then kept at the St. Charles Hotel in New Orleans
was also instrumental in assisting the detectives. It gave the guest's
name, residence, hour of arrival, and hour of departure, with name of
conveyance at arrival and departure, in the following manner:
_H. G. Taylor and Clerk, | Mobile, | 12 m. | Ped.
2 Dec. | 7 a. m. | 'Bus._
This told anybody curious about the matter that H. G. Taylor and clerk,
assuming to reside in Mobile, arrived at the St. Charles Hotel, New
Orleans, at noon on Saturday, the thirtieth day of November, 1867,
either afoot or by some mode of conveyance unknown to the clerk of the
house, and that they left the house in an omnibus at seven o'clock on
the morning of the third day following.
Naturally the next inquiries were directed to ascertaining to what boat
or railroad lines omnibuses could be ordered at that hour of the
morning; if to different ones, then to discover who had driven the
particular omnibus which conveyed Taylor and his brother from the hotel;
and then make an effort to learn to what point they had been conveyed.
This, however, proved less difficult than had been feared; for it was
found that on the morning in question the omnibus had gone from the
hotel to but one point, and that was to the ferry connecting with
Berwick Bay route, by the New Orleans and Opelousas Railroad and the
Gulf, to Galveston, although a large number of passengers had been
booked, and it was impossible to ascertain whether Taylor and his
brother had actually gone that route or not, though everything was in
favor of that presumption.
The death of General Rosseau had caused quite a commotion in New
Orleans, and it seemed a pretty hard matter to get anything further of a
definite character in that place; and I therefore instructed my son and
detective Keating to proceed slowly to Galveston, stopping at Brashear
City, where Taylor might have diverged,--supposing he had taken that
route with the other passengers from New Orleans,--and to particularly
search passenger lists aboard any lines of boats, and all hotel
registers, before arriving at Galveston, so as to have the work done
thoroughly nearest the base of operation; as I knew that for any party
to get on the wrong scent in that vast state, thinly settled as it was,
with no means of quickly conveying needful intelligence, was to enter
upon both a needless waste of money for my patrons, and an objectless
and wearying struggle against insurmountable obstacles for my
detectives, whom, whatever may be said to the contrary, I have never in
a single instance needlessly or injudiciously exposed to privation or
danger.
In Brashear conductors of trains were applied to; the hotel and omnibus
men were questioned, the postmaster was appealed to, and even the
passenger-lists of the boats which had been in port, and to which they
were able to gain access for a period of three months, had been searched
in vain. Every trace of the man seemed lost; and I was appealed to for a
decision as to whether they should proceed to Galveston by boat, with
the presumption that Taylor had taken passage under an assumed name, or
take a few days' trip up along the line of the New Orleans and Opelousas
Railroad and seek for information of their man at different points
through Central Louisiana.
I decided on the former course, and they accordingly embarked from
Brashear immediately after the receipt of my telegram of instructions,
on the handsome steamer "Josephine," the only boat whose books they had
had no opportunity of examining; and, having received my telegram but a
few minutes before the steamer left, were obliged to do some lively
running to reach it; for, in anticipation of a message from me to take
that route, my son had directed Keating to settle the hotel bill, and
with both valises in hand wait at a convenient corner, where, should
William receive a dispatch from me of the character expected, within a
certain time, they might yet make the boat. Everything transpiring as my
son had hoped, they were just in time, after a lively run, to be hauled
up the gang-plank by two stalwart negroes, and were soon steaming down
the bay and thence out to sea.
IV.
As the two ascended to the cabin they were congratulated by the officers
of the boat and many of the passengers on their graceful and expeditious
boarding of the steamer; and being something of objects of interest on
account of the little incident, they concluded not to lose the
opportunity to blend the good feeling evoked into a thoroughly pleasant
impression, and consequently took the shortest way to accomplish that
desired end by at once walking up to the bar where the assembled
gentlemen, to a man, apparently in compliance to general custom, seemed
to understand that they had been invited before a word had been uttered
by either of the detectives, so that when my son asked, "Gentlemen,
won't you join us?" it was an entirely superfluous request; for on
either side, behind, and extending a solid phalanx beyond, the
"gentlemen" had already joined and were describing the particular liquor
that in their minds would do honor to the occasion in the most lively
and familiar manner possible, and interspersing their demands upon the
leisurely bar-keeper with such remarks as "Gen'lemen had narrow 'scape;"
"Gen'lemen made a right smart run of it;" "Gen'lemen not down from
Norlens (New Orleans), reckon come down Opelousas route," and other
similar comments; but invariably prefacing each and every remark with
the stereotyped word "Gen'lemen," which men were, without exception,
assumed to be in that country at that time, at least in conversation; as
any neglect to preface a remark with the word laid one liable to become
immediately engaged in a discussion regarding the propriety of the use
of the term, behind navy revolvers, rifles, double-barreled shot-guns,
or any other available pointed or forcible means of argument.
After the thirst of the crowd, which upon a Gulf-coasting steamer is
something terrible to contemplate, had been in a measure assuaged, my
son excused himself, and with Keating repaired to the office, remarking
to the clerk:
"I presume you would like to transact a little business with us now?"
"Any time to suit your convenience," returned the clerk, but getting at
his books with an alacrity which showed that he would be a little more
willing to attend to the matter of fares then than at any other time.
William handed him an amount of money large enough to pay for both the
fares of himself and Keating from Brashear to Galveston; and, while the
clerk was making change, said, by way of getting into conversation with
him, "I'm afraid we're on a fool's errand out here."
The clerk counted out the change, inked his pen to take the names, and
then elevating his eyebrows, although not speaking a word, plainly
asked, "Ah, how's that?"
"Well, you see," replied the detective, "we're hunting a man that's had
right good luck."
"He can't be in these parts," replied the clerk, with a slightly
satirical smile. "Names?" he then asked.
"James A. Hicks and Patrick Mallory."
"Where from?"
"Pittsburg."
"Which is which?" asked the clerk, in a business tone of voice.
"I am Hicks, and that pretty smart-looking Irishman by the baggage-room
is Mallory," was the reply.
"Your age and weight?" asked the clerk mechanically, at the same time
looking at my son keenly, and getting the rest of his description at a
glance.
These questions were properly answered, and as the clerk was noting them
he asked, "Might I ask what was the gentleman's good luck?"
"Certainly; he has fallen heir to a coal mine in Pennsylvania, and we
are endeavoring to hunt him up for the executors of the estate."
"Ah?" said the clerk, driving away with his pen; "will you be so good as
to ask Mr. Mallory to step this way?"
My son stepped up to Keating and remarked aloud, "Mr. Mallory, Mr.
Mallory, the clerk would like to see you;" and then as Keating stepped
to his side, remarked as if for his better information, "He knows your
name is Patrick Mallory and that we are from Pittsburg, hunting Taylor,
so he can come home and enjoy the property the old man left him; but he
wants your entire description."
"Quite so," said the quick-witted Irishman, dryly.
"You've got me, now," said Keating, winking familiarly at the clerk,
"when we came over we went under; and so many of us was lost that those
saved wasn't worth mendin' as to age, ye see; but concerning heft, why
I'd not fear to say I'd turn an honest scale at a hundred an' sixty."
The clerk smiled, but concluded not to ask Mr. Mallory from Pittsburg
any more questions.
As soon as he had made his notes, however, William told him that he had
examined the lists of all other boats plying between Brashear and
Galveston save those of the "Josephine," and requested him to look
through them, concluding by describing Taylor, and stating that he might
register either as H. G. Taylor and clerk, or under an assumed name, as
he was somewhat erratic, and through family troubles, not necessary to
explain, he had got into a habit of occasionally traveling _incognito_.
The clerk readily complied with his request, scanning the pages closely,
and repeating the name musingly as if endeavoring to recall where he had
heard it. By the time he had got on with the examination of a few pages,
William had selected a photograph of Taylor, and on showing it to the
clerk the latter seemed to have a certain recollection of having seen
him, but a very uncertain recollection as to where, or under what
circumstances. He went on repeating the name, however, turning back the
pages with his right hand and tracing the names back and forth with the
index finger of his left hand, occasionally looking at the photograph as
if to assist in forcing a definite recollection, but without any result
for so long a time that Messrs. Hill and Mallory of Pittsburg became
satisfied that their last hope before arriving at Galveston was gone,
when suddenly the clerk carelessly placed the picture beside a certain
name and in a manner very similar to a dry-goods clerk on securing a
successful "match," in two pieces of cloth, quietly remarked:
"Yes, can't be mistaken. There you are; I've got him."
"Then _we've_ got him!" exclaimed my son, in the excess of his
gratification, shaking the hand of Mr. Mallory, from Pittsburg.
"It's a joy," said the latter, beaming.
"Think of the immense property!" continued my son.
"And the surprise to his friends!" murmured Keating.
"The surprise to himself, I should say," interrupted the clerk.
"Quite so," said Mr. Keating.
It appeared that Taylor and his brother had missed one or two boats at
Brashear from some cause, but had finally taken passage on the
"Josephine," November 7th; and as the detectives had not been able to
ascertain whether the "Josephine" had carried the fugitives or not, on
account of her being belated by adverse weather, and was now returning
to Galveston, after having had barely time to touch at Brashear, they
had felt that perhaps they might be upon the wrong trail, which, with
unknown adventures before them, had been peculiarly discouraging; so
that now, when they ascertained that his apprehension was only a
question of time and careful work, they could not repress their
gratification.
Nothing further worthy of note transpired on the voyage from Brashear to
Galveston, save that the trip was a pretty rough one, and they finally
arrived in the latter city, hopeful and encouraged, notwithstanding the
unusually dismal weather, which seemed to consist of one disconnected
but never-ending storm, the "oldest inhabitants" of the place contending
with great earnestness that "it 'peared like's they'd never had nothin'
like it befoah!"
Arriving in Galveston early Sunday morning, they went to the Exchange
Hotel, and after breakfast set about examining the hotel registers of
the place, ascertaining that Taylor and brother had been in the city,
stopped a day or two, and then, so far as could be learned, had gone on
to Houston. They were satisfied he had made no special efforts to cover
his tracks, although he had not made himself at all conspicuous, as the
difficulty encountered in getting those who would be most likely to
recollect him, to recollect him at all, clearly showed; and it was quite
evident that he had not anticipated pursuit, at least of any nature
which he could not easily compromise, and intended going into some
legitimate business under his own name, and with his brother's
assistance.
Before he could be arrested in Texas, however, it would be necessary to
secure Governor Pease's warrant, which obliged a long, tedious trip to
Austin, the capital of the State; nearly the whole distance having to be
done by stage, which at that time seemed a forbidding piece of work, as
it had rained every day of the year, so far; and it might be a question
of helping the stage through rather than being helped through by it.
Besides this, according to my son's reports, which gave a true
description of things in Texas at that time, everything beyond Houston
had to be paid for in gold, as sectional sentiment and counterfeiting
had pronounced a ban upon greenbacks, and not only in gold, but at
exorbitant prices; hotel rates being five dollars per day; single meals
from one to two dollars; railroad fares eight cents per mile, and stage
rates nearly double that amount; with no assurance that you would ever
reach a destination you had paid to be conveyed to; all attended by
various kinds of danger, among which was the pleasant reflection that
you might be called upon at any time to contribute to the benefit of
that noble relic of chivalry, the Ku Klux Klan, who at that day were
particularly busy in Texas.
All of these pleasant considerations made the departure from Galveston
for Austin, in a Pickwickian sense, unusually agreeable.
At Houston they discovered from different persons, including the
postmaster, that Taylor had been there, but had made inquiries about
points further up country; and the general impression was that he had
gone on, though at Brenham, the terminus of the railroad, where they
arrived Monday evening, they could find no trace of him.
The next morning, when my son arose and looked on the vast sea of
mud,--a filthy, black earth below; a dirty, black sky above; with
nothing but driving rain and wintry gusts between; while the
lackadaisical Texans slouched about with their hands in their pockets,
with only energy enough to procure tobacco or "licker;" their sallow
faces, down-at-the-heels, snuff-dipping wives desolately appearing at
the doors and windows, only to retire again with a woe-begone expression
of suspended animation in their leathery faces,--he fully realized the
force of the remark attributed to General Sheridan, and more expressive
than polite: "If I owned Texas and hell, I would live in hell and sell
Texas!"
The stage was crowded, however, and the dreary conveyance splashed and
crunched on until noon, when dinner was taken at Wilson's Ranche, a
long, low, rambling, tumbledown structure, which, like its owner, who
had at one time been a "General" of something, and now retained the
thriving title out of compliment to his departed glory, had gone to a
genteel decay with a lazy ease worthy of its master's copy. The dinner
was one long to be remembered by the detectives, as it was their first
genuine Texan dinner, and consisted merely of fat boiled pork, and hot
bread of the consistence of putty cakes of the same dimensions, which,
when broken open after a mighty effort, disclosed various articles of
household furniture, such as clay pipes, old knife handles, and various
other invoices, probably playfully dumped into the flour barrel by some
one of the half-score of tow-headed, half-clad children, which the
"General" and his buxom helpmeet had seen fit to provide for torturing
another generation with rare Texan dinners at a dollar a plate.
It was an all-day's labor getting to La Grange, but thirty-five miles
from Brenham, where they arrived at ten o'clock, tired and exhausted
from the day's banging about in the stage and out of it, for they were
obliged to walk many times in order to rest the jaded horses so that
they could get through to La Grange at all; but before retiring made all
the inquiries necessary to develop the fact that their man had not been
at that point.
The next day, Wednesday, was rather more trying than the previous one.
Two miles out of town the stage got "bogged," and the entire load of
passengers were obliged to get out and walk through three miles of
swamps, the stage finally sticking fast, necessitating prying it out
with rails. After this Slough of Despond was passed, the Colorado river
had to be forded three times, and then came a "dry run," which now, with
every other ravine or depression, had became a "wet run," and was "a
booming" as the drunken driver termed it between oaths. There was at
least four feet of water in the dry run, and the horses balking, the
buckskin argument was applied to them so forcibly that they gave a
sudden start, and broke the pole off short, which further complicated
matters. My son, being on the box, sprang to the assistance of the
driver, and stepping down upon the stub of the pole, quickly unhitched
the wheel horses, so that the stage could not be overturned, and then
disengaged the head team, finally appropriating a heavy wheel horse,
with which he rode back to Keating, who was perched upon a rear wheel to
keep out of the water, which was rushing and seething below, sweeping
through the bottom of the stage, and at every moment seeming to have
lifted the vehicle preparatory to sweeping it away like feathers, and
also holding on to the baggage, which he had got safely upon the roof of
the stage; and, taking him aboard his improvised ferry, after securing
the valises, rode to the muddy shore, forming with his companions about
as fine a picture of despairing "carpet-baggers" as the South has ever
on any occasion been able to produce. The bedraggled passengers
ascertained that the next town, Webberville, was several miles distant,
and that there was no house nearer, save on the other side of the
rapidly rising stream; and as night had come on, the best thing that
could be done was to penetrate the woods, build a rousing fire, and
shiver and shiver through as long, wet and weary a night as was ever
experienced.
There was never a more longed-for morning than the next one, and the
moment that the sickly light came feebly through the mist and rain, and
straggled into the dense cottonwood trees, where the discouraged
passengers had a sort of fervent out-doors prayer-meeting, they started
forward for Webberville, hungry, drenched, and so benumbed as to be
scarcely able to walk. It was five miles into town, but one mile of that
distance stretched over a quagmire known and described in that section
as "Hell's half-acre;" and the truthful inhabitants of Webberville
related of this delectable ground that during the rainy season its
powers of absorption were so great that it would even retain the
gigantic Texan mosquito, should it happen to take a seat there.
This bog was impassable to the travelers, who finally bartered with the
owner of a hog wagon to be carried over the marsh for a silver half
dollar each. This was far better than remaining on the other side, and
they finally trudged into the town more dead than alive.
Fortunately for the detectives, the brother of ex-Governor Lubbock, of
Texas, was one of the party, and as they had all become so thoroughly
acquainted, as common misery will quickly make travelers, he took my son
and Keating to the residence of Colonel Banks, a merchant of
Webberville, whose good wife never rested until she had provided the
party with a splendid meal, something with which to wash it down, and
beds which seemed to them all to have been composed of down.
After they had a good rest, the passengers for Austin were got together,
and explained the situation of things. The creek the other side of
Webberville was a mighty river. The driver thought he could possibly get
the stage across, but was certain he could not do so with any passengers
or baggage to make it drag more heavily; but he thought that if once on
the other side, they might get to Austin the same day. William was
anxious to push ahead, and looking about town discovered a rather
venturesome negro who owned a monstrous mule, and at once entered into
negotiations with him for the transfer of the party and baggage, sink or
swim. So when the stage arrived at the creek, the baggage was unloaded,
and the stage successfully forded the stream. But as the water covered
so broad an expanse, was so deep and rapid, and altogether presented
such a forbidding appearance, the passengers refused to try the mule
experiment unless William, who had proposed the mode of transfer, and
had secured the novel ferry, which stood with the grinning negro upon
its back ready for passengers, would first cross the Rubicon to
demonstrate the convenience and safety of the passage. So, handing the
captain one of the valises, he mounted the mule, which after a few
whirls, a little "bucking," several suspicious sidewise movements, and a
shouted "Ya-a-oop, da, Dani-el!--done quit dis heyah foolishness!"
plunged into the current without further ceremony.
The passengers saw that Dani-el and his master were up to a thing or two
in that section of the country; and after seeing Keating cross the
stream in safety also, they one by one ventured upon the transfer, which
was finished without accident, but with a good deal of merriment; and
the colored clown paid even beyond his contract price, the stage was
enabled to go lumbering on to Austin, where it arrived at a late hour of
the same day.
V.
Rain, drizzle and mist; mist, drizzle and rain. It seemed all that the
country was capable of producing; and the same preface to the befogged
condition of the English chancery courts used by Dickens, in his
introduction to "Bleak House," with a few of the localisms expunged,
would have fitly applied to the condition of things in Texas, which
afterward culminated in a flood which swept everything before it.
In Austin--though the seat of the State government and the headquarters
of the military department of Texas, full of legislators, lobbyists,
officers and soldiers, everything had the appearance of having been
through a washing that had lasted an age, and had been prematurely wrung
out to dry, but had been caught on the lines by an eternal rain day.
Involuntarily, with the spatters and dashes of rain and the morning
wind, Longfellow's "Rainy Day" came drifting into the mind, and the
lines:
"The day is cold and dark and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
While at very gust the dead leaves fall.
And the day is dark and dreary!"
were never more appropriate than when applied to any portion of Texas
during the months of January and February, 1868.
The very first man my son met in the office of the hotel, the next
morning, was a member of the Legislature from Besar county, who, hearing
his inquiries of the clerk concerning Taylor, informed him that he had
been introduced to him in San Antonio a few weeks previous; that he was
in company with a much younger man whom he represented as his brother,
and that he had ostensibly come to San Antonio to make some inquiries
concerning the hide and wool trade; but whether with an idea of settling
at that point, or whether he could yet be found in San Antonio, he was
unable to state.
In any event this was cheering news; for it assured my detectives that
their long and weary search would not prove unavailing; and William
directed Keating to make himself useful about the different hotels and
hide and stock dealers,--as it is a detective's business to work all the
time, and the slightest cessation of vigilance after the beginning of an
operation might at the most unexpected moment cause the beginning of a
series of circumstances eventually permitting a criminal's
escape,--while he himself sought out General Potter, who escorted him to
General Canby's headquarters, where he was most cordially received, and
not only given an order for military aid, should it be required, but
General Canby himself went with him to the capitol and introduced him to
Governor Pease, vouching for the reliability of any statement made in
connection with the business which had brought him so far from home; as,
while I had charge of the secret service of the Government, during the
war, with myself and sons had had an intimate acquaintance with, and
personal friendship for him.
Governor Pease frankly stated to William that the affidavits were rather
weak, and that should some of the "shysters" of that state, who did a
thriving business in _habeas corpus_ releases, get an inkling of his
business and the nature of the papers, they might give him a deal of
trouble, even if they did not get his man away from him eventually. He
said he would make the requisition as strong as possible, however, and
expressed his hope that the reputation for ingenuity in devising and
executing expedients possessed by Pinkerton's men would be more than
sustained in this instance; and General Canby terminated the interview
by giving the document approval over his own signature.
My son thanked them both for their kindness, and withdrew, only too
anxious to get to where his man was before any information that he was
being sought for should reach him, and either scare him beyond the Rio
Grande, or enable him to act on the defensive, as only a man can act who
has plenty of money, plenty of friends, and, as we already knew, a great
plenty of bravery on his own account.
Soon after he had returned to the hotel, Keating came in with undoubted
information that Taylor had a permanent residence at or near Corpus
Christi; that either he or his brother owned a sheep ranche near the
coast, not far from that city, while the other dealt in hides and wool
there; and that one or the other penetrated into the interior as far as
San Antonio, soliciting consignments.
My son at once concluded that it was the Captain who had done the
dealing, as well as stealing, and whose money and business ability had
been brought to bear upon the trading at Corpus Christi, and upon the
ranche in the country near it; the brother, though probably entirely
innocent of complicity in the robbery, or even a knowledge of the source
from whence the money had come, only being used for a convenient
repository for his ill-gotten funds in case of Kuhn Brothers following
him before he was ready to meet them.
He therefore decided to get through to Corpus Christi in the very
shortest time in which the trip could be made _via_ New Braunfels, San
Antonio, Victoria, and Port Lavaca, hoping that he might be able to pick
him up along some portion of that route, as it was quite evident he made
frequent trips in that direction; and, at whatever point he might be
started, should he seem to be going much farther into the
interior,--which would be improbable, as San Antonio at that time was
quite a frontier city,--arrest him at once, and hurry him back to
Galveston along the route he was already familiar with; but, should he
be going toward the coast, to let him take his own course, keeping him
well in hand until he had reached Corpus Christi or some other seaport
city, and, waiting a favorable opportunity, arrest him and get him
aboard a boat before he could recover from the surprise.
Not a half hour before they left Austin, he fortunately met Judge Davis
of Corpus Christi, who was there attending some political convention,
and who gave him a letter to his law partner at home, should his
services in any way be needed, as I had been of some service to him on a
previous occasion; so that when my two detectives left Austin on the
seventeenth of January, they felt perfectly satisfied of ultimate
success, though the same terrible experiences as to staging were again
encountered.
It required the entire day to traverse the few miles between Austin and
Blanco Creek, where they secured a sort of a supper; the Onion Creek and
its branches having been waded and forded numberless times. At Manchell
Springs, the stage pole being again broken, they were only able to
proceed after improvising a tongue out of a sapling, chopped from the
roadside with a very dull hatchet. At Blanco Springs a good rest was
taken, and the driver, having the day's experience in his mind, objected
to going further that night; but the detectives insisted that they had
paid their money to be taken to a certain destination, and, as they had
shown a disposition to more than earn their passage besides, no excuse
for their detention should be offered.
After a good deal of grumbling, fresh horses were got out, a new pole
put in the stage, and the procession again took up its weary march over
the then most horrible of roads, crossing the innumerable brooks and
runs which now pushed torrents into York's Creek. All night long they
slushed and splashed, and tramped and cursed; though the rain had ceased
for a time, there was but little light from the sky, which seemed full
of black heavy clouds ready to burst asunder, to again drench them and
swell the torrents afresh. My son, Keating, and a man sent along from
Blanco Creek, "took turns," trudging along ahead of the lead-team, and,
with lanterns, picked out the way. Often they would be misled where the
ground was so bad as to almost defy a passage over it, when the patient
animals behind them, steaming from the toil of straining along with
nothing but an empty coach, would stop, as if guided by a keener
instinct, where they would quietly remain until the united search of the
three men had discovered the road, when the intelligent creatures
docilely plodded along again.
And so, through seemingly bottomless quagmires; over corduroys, where
the shaky ends of timbers, struck by a horse's hoof, would mercilessly
splash those walking beside the useless vehicle, or, suddenly relieved
from the weight of the ponderous wheel, would fly upwards to heave
gallons of slime upon the coach; laboring around the bases of
far-extending mounds of sandy loam; descending into unexpected and
sometimes dangerous depressions, along creeks, and plunging into
streams, where drift and changing, sandy bottoms always made it a
question whether the coach could ever be got across; they marched only
as Sherman taught soldiers to march, or as honest detectives will crowd
all obstacles between themselves and their duty, and came with the gray
of the morning to the beautiful, forest-shaded Guadaloupe.
Fording this river without nearly the trouble presented at some of the
petty runs and creeks which had been passed, they came to New Braunfels
with the sun, which had shown itself for the first time since their
arrival in Texas, and which also shone upon the first city which had
shown any of that wide-awake "go-aheaditiveness" and thrift so common to
nearly all northern cities.
The reason that New Braunfels differed so materially from the ordinary
Texan towns lay in the fact that it was almost exclusively settled by
Germans; and it was a welcome sight to the detectives to be able to
enter a place where, from suburb to center, up and down long,
finely-shaded avenues, it was plain to be seen that the most had been
made of everything.
From the pleasantest cottage of the extreme suburb, and past the more
pretentious residences,--every home being provided with an exterior
bake-oven, the same as in Germany, Pennsylvania, or portions of
Wisconsin and Minnesota, to the shops, stores, hotels and public
buildings, every yard, in many instances, fenced with stone gleaned and
cleaned from the soil, and, for that matter, every spot upon which the
eye rested showed that thrift and not whisky-drinking ruled that place;
and that fact alone entitles the little German city to respectable
elevation from the obscurity which has heretofore surrounded it.
As nothing at this point could be learned regarding Taylor, though
leaving the town and its extraordinary attractions with some reluctance,
they immediately proceeded to San Antonio, the roads to which place were
quite passable, and arrived at that city Friday afternoon. I had
telegraphed to Colonel Lee, of San Antonio, to hold himself in readiness
to assist my son and Keating, on the score of personal friendship,
whenever they might arrive there, not knowing, from the terrible
condition of the roads, at what time it would be possible for them to
reach that point, and he, being ignorant from what direction they might
come, where they might stay, or under what name they might register, had
caused an advertisement to be inserted in the San Antonio _Herald_, of
which the following is a copy:
PERSONAL.--WHENEVER THE SON OF A. P., of Chicago, may arrive
in San Antonio, he will learn of something to his advantage
by calling upon Lieut.-Col. Lee, at the Mengler House.
Keating's sharp eyes first saw the item at the supper table of the
Mengler House, where they were stopping, and they both learned, by
listening to the conversation about them, that the Colonel was sitting
at the same table.
After supper William made himself known to Colonel Lee without
attracting attention, the latter kindly offering him any help needed,
after which inquiries of a guarded character were instituted for the
object of their search. The landlord of the Mengler House stated that
Taylor had called upon him about three weeks before to inquire for
letters; but as he was stopping elsewhere but little attention had been
paid to him or his questions; all of which William had reason to believe
absolutely true, on account of the strong corroborative testimony which
would lie in the statement of any landlord that no civility was shown
to a man who quartered at any hostelry save his own.
The next morning he called upon Chief of Police, H. D. Bonnet, who
extended every imaginable courtesy, went with him to the offices of the
different stage-lines, and assisted in examining their lists for some
time previous with a view to ascertaining what direction Taylor had
taken when he left San Antonio; introduced him to the Mayor and Chief
Marshal, and even went with him on an extended tour through the old
Mexican quarter of the town; but no other information was secured save
through the German landlady of a hotel, who was as positive as her
limited knowledge of the English language would allow her to be, that
Taylor had stopped at her house without registering at all, and had gone
directly from San Antonio to Port Lavaca or Corpus Christi on horseback,
which, after all, in the exceptional condition of the weather that year
in Texas, seemed quite probable.
It was evident nothing was to be gained by remaining any longer at San
Antonio, and was quite as plain that all possible expedition should be
used in getting on to the coast.
As if the fates were ordained perverse, the moment the two left San
Antonio a steady drenching rain again began to fall, and as the stage
was crowded, the discomfort of those within could not very well be
increased. About twelve miles from San Antonio the driver succeeded in
tipping over the stage, and giving the occupants "an elegant mud varnish
all over," as operative Keating aptly expressed it. The driver remarked
that he was "going up the new road," but some of the more profane
passengers swore that, if so, he was hunting it three feet under the old
one. On arriving at Lavernia station the dismal announcement was made by
the lean, long stage agent, who seemed to have never done anything from
time immemorial save sit in the door of his tumbledown hovel to make
dismal announcement that "the Cibolo (pronounced there 'C'uillou') is
just a scootin' and a rippin' up its banks like a mad buffler bull!
ye'll all be back to stay at my tavern all night."
It was the contemplation of this man's pure cussedness, as he sat there
doting on the big bills he would charge when the Cibolo should drive
back a stage load of hungry travelers, that nerved them to push on at
all hazards and attempt a crossing at some point where the Cibolo
"scooted and ripped up its banks" with less ardor than across the
regular route to Victoria; but on reaching Southerland Springs, seven
miles distant, it was found that it would be necessary to wait until
Thursday morning, when they might possibly make a passage, as the stream
was running down to within something like ordinary bounds very fast.
Thursday afternoon came before an attempt to ford the stream was made,
when the driver agreed to land the passengers in the middle of the
stream on an immense fallen tree, from which point they could reach the
other side, when they might be able to get the empty stage across also.
The trial was made, and was successful so far as landing the passengers
was concerned, but while this was being done the wheels of the coach
sank deeper and deeper into the mucky bed of the stream, and though but
a few minutes had elapsed, the strange action of the water had caused
deposits to form about the coach so rapidly that it became firmly
imbedded, and could not be moved by the four horses attached. At this
juncture an old farmer came along, who carried the evidences of some of
his propensities strongly marked in his face, which was a thin one, like
his conscience, but with bright tips on his cheek bones and as red a
nose as ever the devil-artist in alcohol tipped with crimson. No
importunities or amount of money could prevail on him to assist the
discouraged travelers with his fine mule train; but a pint of good
whiskey, to be delivered the moment the stage had been drawn from its
peril, with a small drink by way of retainer, accomplished what would
not have been done in any other manner, and set the travelers joyfully
on their way again. They journeyed on at a snail's pace until one
o'clock Friday morning, when they arrived at Kelly's ranche, kept by
Bill Kelly, uncle of the "Taylor boys," notorious for their connection
with the Ku Klux and various other gangs of villainous desperadoes.
The family were unceremoniously awakened, and at once good-humoredly
proceeded to provide the ravenous passengers with something to eat;
after which they made a "shake-down" on the floor, into which substitute
for a bed everybody turned, and slept late into the morning, awakening
stiff in every joint and scarcely able for that day's journey, which,
with its complement of accidents and delays, took them safely over
Esteto creek and into Yorktown early in the evening, where the
detectives secured certain information that Taylor had been in Corpus
Christi the week previous, and was undoubtedly there at that time, as
Texas by this time had become a net-work of resistless streams, almost
impassible quagmires and far-reaching lagoons.
VI.
Late the next morning they left Yorktown, having taken on a passenger of
no less importance than ex-Confederate Governor Owens, of Arizona. He
was a pleasant, voluble old fellow, and my son at once fell in with his
ways, and treated him so courteously that it perhaps averted a greater
disaster than had at any previous time occurred.
Governor Owens was largely engaged in the Rio Grande trade of supplying
frontier points with provisions and merchandise, and was just on his way
to Indianola, on the coast, where he was to meet his Mexican freighters,
comprising thirty wagons and carts, of all characters and descriptions,
driven by the inevitable lazy Greaser. Even as late as the same period,
1867-8, a vast amount of freighting was done between St. Paul,
Minnesota, and Fort Garry, Manitoba, in the famed Red River carts,
driven by the inevitable, lazy half-breed.
William, knowing the position held by Governor Owens during a portion of
the war, and realizing that an ex-office-holder will never lose his
tenderness for the political regime which made him titled, assumed to be
a Mississippian, from Vicksburg, with an Irish acquaintance, on a trip
of inspection through Texas, and, so far, terribly disappointed with the
State.
During those periods when, owing to the depth of the mud, the passengers
were obliged to walk, they would fall behind or walk ahead of the stage,
when they would chat pleasantly upon general subjects. On one of these
occasions Governor Owens eyed his companion sharply a moment, and then
asked:
"Can I trust you, sir?"
"Certainly."
"On the word and honor of a gentleman?"
"Yes, and an honest man, too," William answered.
"I believe you; thank you. You know stages are robbed out this way?"
"I do."
"Did you ever see it done?"
"No; nor have I any desire to be around on such an occasion," he
replied, laughing.
"I reckon you hadn't better, either," said the Governor earnestly. "It
wouldn't make so much difference if they would do the work a trifle
genteelly, in a gentlemanly way; but the fact is, we have low fellows
along our Texas stage-lines. They have no regard for a man's family.
Why," he continued, warmly, "they'll just pop out from behind the trees,
or up through some clumps of bushes, ram a double barreled shot-gun,
loaded to the muzzle with slugs and things, into the coach from both
sides at once, and just blaze away--all that are not killed outright are
scared to death. There's nothing fair about it!"
William expressed his curiosity to know if the drivers were ever killed.
"Drivers? Never, sir, never. Why, those ruffians are too smart for that.
Let it be known that they have begun killing drivers, and there isn't a
stage company in Texas that could send a coach past the first timber.
They couldn't afford to kill stage-drivers, for the moment they began
it, that would be the end of staging."
My son expressed his thanks at learning so much of the business
principles of these land pirates, and the old gentleman continued:
"You see, it takes a peculiar kind of a driver for a Texas coach. You
want one, first, that can drink right smart of whiskey, for the water
isn't good along some of these branches. You want one that can swear a
hoss's head square off, too. He's got to be a coward, or he would help
put this robbing down; and yet, he has got to be rather brave to drive
right along up to a spot where he knows he is to see his passengers
butchered! and that," continued the Governor, earnestly, "is just what I
want to talk to you about, as I feel sure that I can trust you."
The Governor then explained to him that a certain member of the Ku Klux,
whom he was sorry to say was too intimate with those roadside
plunderers, had informed him that morning, just as he was leaving
Yorktown, that preparations had been made to rob their stage at a point
between Clinton and Mission Valley; and that he very much desired some
organization among the passengers for defense, as he himself had upwards
of thirty thousand dollars, to be paid out at Indianola, for goods, and
to his freighters for wages.
On the receipt of this alarming intelligence, my son took the
responsibility of informing the rest of the passengers what might
possibly be expected; and, as Governor Owens had six fine carbines,
which he was also taking down to Indianola for the protection of his
freighters on the Rio Grand, preparatory to any attack that might be
made.
About six miles from Mission Valley the stage route traversed a low
piece of bottom-lands covered with timber, and a considerable growth of
underbrush. A corduroy road had been built through the place, and as the
coach was obliged to be driven slowly across it, the locality offered
particularly fine inducements for a robbery of the character described
by the Governor; so that the precaution was taken of walking along with
the coach, three on either side, with carbines ready for instant use.
Just before entering the timber, two men were seen prowling about, and,
evidently fearing their actions might cause suspicion and frustrate the
plan they had in view, made a great effort to appear to be two
respectable hunters in search of only wild game; and, before leaving the
timber at the other side, two more persons were seen, who, evidently,
not having been given any signal, had come as near to the stage as they
dared, to ascertain for themselves why their comrades had failed in
their calculations; but skulked away after seeing the force which grimly
trudged along, guarding the empty vehicle, into which the passengers
were glad enough to climb when the danger was gone by, and be carried
with sound bodies and whole pockets to the supper which had been some
time in waiting when they reached Mission Valley.
Dinner the next day was taken at Victoria, from which city William and
Keating expected to be able to go by railroad to Port Lavaca, only
twenty-eight miles distant. They were doomed to disappointment in this,
as the railroad had been abandoned since the war, either the Union or
Confederate soldiers having taken it up bodily and turned it upside
down, like a gigantic furrow, from Victoria to the sea.
After many years somebody had come along and turned it back; but to this
day the steam-engine has never thundered over it again; the most that
has ever been done having been to drag an occasional freight car over
the road by the not peculiarly thrilling application of mule power; and
so it was said a hand-car, worked by a gang of negroes, was used for
transporting passengers, the trips being made back and forth whenever a
load could be got, and not before.
As they were obliged to remain for this new mode of conveyance, their
time was entirely unoccupied, and they could not but have leisure to
make something of a study of Texan life, as it then existed; and on
Sunday afternoon were witnesses to one of those little episodes which
sometimes make extremely lively certain periods that would otherwise
remain humdrum and ordinary.
The bar-room of the hotel had been crowded all day, and a good deal of
liquor had been drunk, while there had also been a large amount of money
lost and won over cards, so that there was that feverish, explosive
condition of things which always follows large winnings or losses at
games of chance, although there had as yet been no disturbance of a
serious character.
At one of the little gaming tables, John Foster, county clerk of
Victoria County, and another person, named Lew Phillips, who had been
one of the Andersonville prison-keepers during the war, but had drifted
out to Victoria and had secured charge of a large livery-stable there,
were engaged at a game of poker, when Foster was heard to quietly say:
"See here, Lew Phillips, you stole that card!"
"You're a liar!" was retorted, with an oath.
The two men were up over the card-table in a twinkling, looking at each
other, and both very white.
"Apologize!" demanded Foster, still quiet, but with a terrible
earnestness in his voice.
"I don't do that sort of business, you white-livered coward!" shouted
Phillips.
Without another look or word, the two parted, one passing out one door
and the other out of another, while the crowd in the hotel canvassed the
matter as coolly as though there had been no difficulty worth
mentioning, while a few quietly laid wagers on who would get the first
shot.
In about fifteen minutes more, Foster was seen returning with a
double-barreled shot-gun, and Phillips, who had a wooden leg, came
stumping up another street, with an immense navy revolver in his hand.
It was noticeable that the space between the advancing men was made very
clear, so that nothing should interfere with their sociability. In a
moment more, Phillips had fired at Foster, and evidently hit him; for,
as he was bringing his gun to his shoulder, his aim had been badly
disturbed, and before he had time to fire, Phillips had fired again and
wounded his man the second time. Foster now leaned against a porch
column, desperately resolved to get a good aim,--his antagonist, all the
while advancing, attempted to fire again, but missed this time, the cap
refusing to communicate the deadly flash to the chamber of the
revolver,--then there was a blinding flash from Foster's gun,
accompanied by a thunderous report, and the two men fell almost
instantaneously.
Foster had discharged both barrels of his weapon, heavily loaded with
buck-shot, at Phillips, the entire charge having entered his wooden leg,
and sent him spinning to the ground, like the sudden jerk and whirl of a
nearly spent top, the recoil of the gun also "kicking" Foster flat as a
Tennessee "poor white's" corn pone.
The "gentlemen" who had been looking on and quietly criticising the
little by-play, now rushed forward and surrounded the combatants, the
anxiety of each of whom was to be assured of the other's death; or, in
case of his being alive, to have some one to be the immediate bearer of
tender regards and profuse expressions of friendship; thus terminating
satisfactorily to all parties what the chivalrous inhabitants of
Victoria informed my detectives was called a "stag duel," the most
common and effective method known for settling the little difficulties
liable at any time to occur among gentlemen, the only conditions imposed
by custom being that neither party shall offer to shoot in a crowded
room, or be allowed to fire at his opponent unless he is also prepared,
when other citizens who may be using the streets at those times withdraw
from them as rapidly as consistent with the proprieties, when the
occasion is immediately made interesting to the participants, who
advance and fire upon each other as rapidly as a liberal practice in
this and other "codes" of taking human life will permit.
As the next sensation to a "stag duel" in Victoria was the arrival of
the "train" from Lavaca, in the shape of the hand-car manned by four
burly negroes, who with the original superintendent of the road had
formed a soulless corporation with which nothing could compete, it was
not long before the detectives had secured seats with four other
passengers, making ten persons in all, to be conveyed twenty-eight miles
on a broken-down hand-car over probably the most villainous excuse for a
railroad ever known.
The fare was six dollars in gold for each passenger, which might seem to
have a shade of exorbitance about it when it was considered that the
accommodations consisted of two very insecure seats, constructed over
the wheels, upon each of which three persons might cling with a constant
expectation of being jolted off by the unevenness of the road, or of
falling off from sheer fatigue in endeavor to cling to the ramshackle
boards beneath them.
"All abo'd!" shouted the negro conductor, with all the style and unction
of the diamond-pinned aristocrat of a New York Central train; and then,
as the "train" started out of Victoria the passengers and the admiring
lookers-on were greeted with the following song, tuned to the
"Ra-ta-tat" of the wheels upon the rails, and sturdily sung, or chanted
rather, by the jolly but powerful crew:
"Heave ho!
Away we go--
Winds may wait, or de winds may blow!
Heave ho!
Away we go--
For to cotch de gals at Lavac--o!"
In the sense that this mode of traveling had the charm of novelty and
the thrilling attraction of danger combined, it was a success. There was
freshness and variety about it, too; for, whenever one of the negroes
had "done gin out," the conductor would call for volunteers from among
the passengers, and give the demand a peculiar emphasis by the remark,
"Takes brawn 'n sinyew to pump dis hy'r train into 'vacca; 'n de' Lo'd
never did make no men out o' cl'ar iron 'n steel!"
The argument was so forcible that some one would work with the negroes
while the "clean done gone" man and brother rested and meditated upon
"catchin' the gals of 'vacca!" which the song brought out so feelingly.
Besides this, new interest would be added to the excursion whenever the
wind was favorable; for, stopping the car, a mast, to which a sort of
"mutton-leg sail," as they termed it, would be attached; the conductor
would brace himself and would lengthen or shorten the sail as was most
judicious, and then the hand-car ship would speed along the billowy
tract like a majestic thing of life for a mile or two, when the party
were again forced into a realizing sense of the plodding nature of the
means of transit, which, after all, at times became monotonous.
On one of these occasions of momentary fair sailing and enthusiasm, they
were also favored with a down grade of quite a stretch; and, as
everybody was happy at the wonderful rate of speed acquired, while the
negroes were singing snatches of songs in the gayest manner possible, a
"spread" of the track let the car upon the ties, from which it leaped at
one bound into the swamp, completely immersing several of its occupants
in the muddy slime.
No damage was done, however, as the spot where everything and everybody
alighted was too soft to cause anything to be broken; and after righting
the car, and repairing the disaster as much as possible, William and
Keating safely arrived in Lavaca early in the afternoon, were at once
driven to Indianola, where they cleaned up, including a most welcome
bathing and shaving, at the Magnolia House; embarked on a little
schooner carrying the government mail down the coast; were becalmed in
Aranzas Bay, and late during the night of the twenty-seventh of January
the light from a quaint seaport city danced along the waves of its
beautiful harbor, and welcomed the worn-out but indefatigable detectives
to Corpus Christi.
VII.
Going ashore, the two proceeded to a sort of hotel or boarding-house on
the beach, where they found Judge Carpenter, formerly of Chicago, who
had become district judge there, and who, on learning my son's name,
inquired if he were not a relative of Allan Pinkerton the detective.
He replied that he was very _distantly_ related, which was a literal
truth at that time, when the Judge, claiming an acquaintance, proffered
any assistance which might be desired, whatever his business. The
courtesy was courteously accepted, but no questions were asked
concerning Taylor.
After breakfast the next morning, they strolled up-town with Judge
Carpenter, when passing a Mr. Buckley's store, Keating, while catching
step, took occasion to nudge my son, who carelessly looked into the
place, as any stranger might, and there saw the object of his long
search pleasantly chatting with one of the clerks; but they walked on
quietly with the Judge as far as the post-office, when he kindly
introduced them to another Mr. Taylor, the postmaster.
After a few moments' pleasant conversation, William asked the postmaster
if he could direct him to ex-Sheriff John McLane's residence. It proved
to be but a block distant, but on inquiring there, it was ascertained
that he was absent at his store, farther down-town. He was the only
person in that city, besides Keating, whom my son felt that he could
trust, as I had not only previously rendered him service, but also held
him in the light of a friend; and he had already been requested by me to
render him any service in his power, should William pass that way, so
that he knew the first thing he should do was to go to him, explain his
business fully and secure his immediate advice and assistance.
Finding him, he told him that he did not feel justified in arresting
Taylor unless the mail-boat in which he had arrived was, in some way,
detained for an hour. McLane said he would attend to that, and brought
Captain Reinhart to the store, but not telling him why the delay was
desired, arranged for the same, and at once hunted up Sheriff Benson, to
whom my son delivered the warrant and demanded the prisoner.
Benson at first hesitated, expressing the utmost surprise, as Taylor was
a fellow-boarder, and he could not realize, so he said, that he was
other than a brave and chivalrous gentleman, and began to question the
validity of the requisition, but William told him that there was the
order of Governor Pease approved by General Canby, and that he did not
propose to be dallied with or imposed upon in any manner.
Seeing that my son had come too far and undergone too many hardships to
be trifled with, he went with him to Buckley's store, where they found
Taylor, who was given into the detectives' hands, though utterly
astounded and completely unnerved at the idea that the strong hand of
the law was upon him.
In this condition, and before he could collect his scattered senses and
decide to make a legal resistance, which would have caused my son a vast
amount of trouble, if indeed it had not resulted in the liberation of
the elegant swindler, he was placed on board the schooner.
After they had left Corpus Christi behind, William began a system of
soothing argument, with the end in view of convincing Taylor, who was
now becoming nervous and restless, and evidently ashamed of being
carried away so ingloriously, that it would be the best thing for
himself, his brother, and even his people in Philadelphia, to go along
quietly, without creating any disturbance, as, should he do so, he
would treat him like a gentleman in every instance; but should he give
him any trouble whatever he would be obliged to put him in irons, and
not only treat him like a criminal, but would serve him roughly in every
particular.
Taylor saw that he was in my power, and that I had put two men after him
who would have gone to Cape Horn for him, and that his only chance of
escape lay in strategy.
He had the perfect freedom of the boat, and, when he desired, chatted
with the captain and the crew, who were not apprised by my son of the
character of his new companion, and everything was done to make him
comfortable.
At first he kept entirely to himself, but of a sudden his manner changed
entirely, and he became particularly pleasant, especially to the captain
of the boat; and as they were nearing the little barren Saluria Island,
at the entrance to Matagorda Bay, William accidentally overheard the
captain say to Taylor, "The tide is high enough, and I will be able to
run close to the island." This caused him to have no particular
suspicion of Taylor, as the remark might equally apply to a hundred
other subjects besides the one to which it did; but in a few moments
after, he noticed the schooner, which had hugged the island pretty
closely, now suddenly take a still closer tack, and rapidly neared the
barren coast. Feeling alarmed lest the helmsman was not attending to
his duty, my son yelled:
"Captain, what under heaven do you mean? Don't you see that in another
moment you'll have us beached?"
He had scarcely uttered the words when Taylor was seen to spring into
the waves, and then disappear, and the boat at the same moment stood off
from the island, as if in obedience to the warning my son had given.
The truth flashed into his mind in an instant: Here, after this hard,
unremitting toil, the discomforts, the annoyances, the dangers,
everything through which they had been obliged to pass, after their
hopes for success, and after they had earned it--if two men ever had
earned success--just when they were beginning to feel the pleasure of
work well done, and be able to experience the genuine satisfaction it is
to any man who is honest enough to acknowledge it, in securing the
regard of the public for assisting in its protection, the commendation
of one's employer for good sturdy care for his interests, and the
self-respect one gains in doing one's duty, even if it has led him a
hard life of it,--they were to be cheated and outwitted. Half crazed, my
son, with anger and indignation, and a perfect flood of humiliating
thoughts filled his brain in the first great question, "What was to be
done?"
His first impulse was to plunge in after him, and in pursuance of that
impulse he had freed himself of his boots and coat, when, seeing Taylor
rise to the surface and make but little headway against the tide, which
was ebbing strongly, he call to the captain to round to, and began
firing with considerable rapidity, so as to strike the water within a
few feet of the man who was so unsuccessfully struggling against the
tide, but whom he could not blame for making so brave and desperate an
effort to free himself.
He was provided with two magnificent English Trenter revolvers, which
will carry a half-ounce ball a fourth of a mile with absolute accuracy;
and as he could use it with great precision he could easily have killed
the man in the water. Both the captain and Taylor were terribly scared,
and as Taylor held up his hand, and yelled--"I surrender!" the balls
were cutting into the water all about him savagely, and the captain
shouted, "For God's sake, don't kill the man! Don't you see I'm rounding
to?"
Keating, who had been almost worn out from the Texas trip, had been
sleeping in a bunk below, and who had been roused by William's firing
and the strange motion of the schooner, now came on deck rather thinly
clad, and the two detectives covered Taylor with their revolvers; while
the captain, himself at the wheel, handled the schooner so that it was
only necessary for him to keep himself above water in order to float
with the tide against the side of the boat, when my son, rather too
indignant to be particularly tender, grabbed him by the hair and his
luxuriant whiskers, drew him aboard, and soundly kicked him into the
cabin, where he began crying from excitement and fright, even going to
such depths of discouragement that he begged for a revolver with which
to kill himself, which being handed him by my son for that purpose, he
very properly refused, and was put to bed for the purpose of drying his
clothes like a truant school-boy.
It was my son's intention to take the steamer at Indianola for Galveston
immediately upon arriving at the former place; but on account of a heavy
"Norther," which had blown all day Friday, the steamer had been obliged
to put out to sea, and the party were consequently compelled to put up
at the Magnolia House, and wait there until the following Monday; and it
required all the detective's shrewdness to keep Taylor quiet, as he had
learned from some source that the creation of Wyoming Territory, which
occurred a short time before his capture, had caused Cheyenne to be a
city of quite a different Territory than when the requisition was
issued, which would have amounted to so grave a technical flaw that the
requisition would not have held against a _habeas corpus_.
Court had just set at the place, and Indianola was full of lawyers,
hungry as vultures for just such a rich case; but by constant
persuasions, partial promises, leading to a hope, at least, that a
compromise might be effected at New Orleans, and dark hints of irons,
and that, should his brother come on there and create any disturbance he
would be immediately arrested as accessory both before and after the
crime; with constant drives out into the country, rambles down the
sea-shore, and every pretext known to the mind of the ingenious
detective, everything was managed successfully; a receipt for nearly two
thousand dollars in specie secured; the turning over of the money to
Taylor's brother stopped; and Taylor himself taken to New Orleans
without an attempt at rescue; and receiving a dispatch there from me to
the effect that a compromise could not be for a moment considered, the
party left that city Thursday, February 4th, arriving in Cheyenne six
days later, my son accounting for his prisoner to the authorities into
whose hands the case then passed; the last being seen of "Harry G.
Taylor, the Man from Somewhere," being behind the bars of the
guard-house at Fort Russell, where he had been placed for safe-keeping
previous to his trial;--and I have related these facts, not so much to
show any startling phase of crime, as to give the public a single
illustration, out of thousands upon my records, of how men must overcome
every known obstacle while leading the hard life of the detective.
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Spy of the Rebellion, by Allan Pinkerton