There is no city in the Union in which impostors of all kinds flourish so
well as in New York. The immense size of the city, the heterogeneous
character of its population, and the great variety of the interests and
pursuits of the people, are all so many advantages to the cheat and
swindler. It would require a volume to detail the tricks of these
people, and some of their adventures would equal anything to be found in
the annals of romance. All manner of tricks are practised upon the
unsuspecting, and generally the perpetrator escapes without punishment.
They come here from all parts of the country, and indeed from all parts
of the world, in the hope of reaping a rich harvest, and the majority end
by eking out a miserable existence in a manner which even the police who
watch them so closely are sometimes unable to understand.
They find their way into all classes. One cannot mingle much in society
here without meeting some bewhiskered, mysterious individual, who claims
to be of noble birth. Sometimes he palms himself off as a political
exile, sometimes he is travelling, and is so charmed with New York that
he makes it his headquarters, and sometimes he lets a few friends into
the secret of his rank, and begs that they will not reveal his true
title, as a little unpleasant affair, a mere social scandal in his own
country, made it necessary for him to absent himself for a while. He
hopes the matter will blow over in a few months, and then he will go
home. The fashionable New-Yorker, male or female, is powerless against
the charms of aristocracy. The "foreign nobleman" is welcomed
everywhere, feted, petted, and allowed almost any privilege he chooses to
claim--and he is far from being very modest in this respect; and by and
by he is found out to be an impostor, probably the valet of some
gentleman of rank in Europe. Then society holds up its hands in holy
horror, and vows it always did suspect him. The men in society are weak
enough in this respect; but the women are most frequently the victims.
Not long since, a handsome, well got up Englishman came to New York on a
brief visit. He called himself Lord Richard X---. Society received him
with open arms. Invitations were showered upon him. Brown's hands were
always full of cards for his Lordship. The women went wild over him,
especially since it was whispered that the young man was heir to a
property worth ever so many millions of pounds. In short, his Lordship
found himself so popular, and hints of his departure were received with
such disfavor by his new found friends, that he concluded to extend his
stay in New York indefinitely. He made a fine show, and his toilettes,
turnouts, and presents were magnificent. The men did not fancy him. He
was too haughty and uncivil, but the ladies found him intensely
agreeable. It was whispered by his male acquaintances that he was a good
hand at borrowing, and that he was remarkably lucky at cards and at the
races. One or two of the large faro banks of the city were certainly the
losers by his visits. The ladies, however, were indignant at such
stories. His Lordship was divine. All the women were crazy after him,
and any of them would have taken him at the first offer.
By and by the newspapers began to take notice of the young man, and
boldly asserted that there was no such name as Lord Richard X--- in the
British peerage. Society laughed at this, and declared that everybody
but ignorant newspaper men was aware that the published lists of titled
personages in England were notoriously incomplete.
Meanwhile, his Lordship played his cards well, and it was soon announced
that he was "to be married shortly to a well-known belle of Fifth
avenue." The women were green with jealousy, and the men, I think, were
not a little relieved to find that the lion did not intend devouring all
the Fifth avenue belles. The marriage came off in due season; the
wedding-presents fairly poured in, and were magnificent. The new Lady
X--- was at the summit of her felicity, and was the envied of all who
knew her. The happy pair departed on their honeymoon, but his Lordship
made no effort to return home to England.
During their absence, it leaked out that Lord X--- was an impostor.
Creditors began to pour in upon his father-in-law with anxious inquiries
after his Lordship, against whom they held heavy accounts. Proofs of the
imposture were numerous and indisputable, and the newspapers declared
that Lord X--- would not dare to show his face again in New York.
Everybody was laughing at the result of the affair.
What passed between the father-in-law and the young couple is not known;
but the bride decided to cling to her husband in spite of the imposture.
Father-in-law was a prudent and a sensitive man, and very rich. For his
daughter's sake, he accepted the situation. He paid Lord X---'s debts,
laughed at the charge of imposture, and spoke warmly to every one he met
of the great happiness of his "dear children, Lord and Lady X---." On
their return to the city, he received them with a grand party, at which
all Fifth avenue was present, and, though he could not silence the
comments of society, he succeeded in retaining for his children their
places in the world of fashion. He was a nabob, and he knew the power of
his wealth. He shook his purse in the face of society, and commanded it
to continue to recognize the impostor as Lord X---, and society meekly
obeyed him.
Impostures of this kind do not always terminate so fortunately for the
parties concerned. New York gossip has many a well-authenticated story
of foreign counts and lords, who have set society in a flutter, and have
married some foolish, trusting woman, only to be detected when it was too
late to prevent the trouble. Some of these scoundrels have been proved
to be married men already, and the consequences of their falsehood have,
of course, been more serious to the bride. Others again do not enter the
matrimonial market at all, but use their arts to secure loans from their
new acquaintances. Not long since a foreigner, calling himself a Russian
Count, and claiming to be sent here on a mission connected with the
Russian navy, succeeded in borrowing from some credulous acquaintances,
who were dazzled by his pretended rank, sums ranging from $500 to $2000,
and amounting in the aggregate to $30,000. When the time of payment
arrived, the Count had disappeared, and it was ascertained that he had
escaped to Europe.
Impostors of other kinds are numerous. Men and women are always to be
found in the city, seeking aid for some charitable institution, with
which they claim to be connected. They carry memorandum books and
pencils, in the former of which the donor is requested to inscribe his
name and the amount of his gift, in order that it may be acknowledged in
due form by the proper officers of the institution. Small favors are
thankfully received, and they depart, assuring you in the most humble and
sanctimonious manner that "the Lord loveth a cheerful giver." If you
cannot give to-day, they are willing to call to-morrow--next week--any
time that may suit your convenience. You cannot insult them by a sharp
refusal, or in any way, for like Uriah Heep they are always "so 'umble."
You find it hard to suspect them, but, in truth, they are the most
genuine impostors to be met with in the city. They are soliciting money
for themselves alone, and have no connection with any charitable
institution whatever.
One-armed, or one-legged beggars, whose missing member, sound as your
own, is strapped to their bodies so as to be safely out of sight, women
wishing to bury their husbands or children, women with hired babies, and
sundry other objects calculated to excite your pity, meet you at every
step. They are vagabonds. God knows there is misery enough in this
great city, but how to tell it from barefaced imposture, is perplexing
and harassing to a charitably disposed person. Nine out of ten street
beggars in New York are unworthy objects, and to give to them is simply
to encourage vagrancy; and yet to know how to discriminate. That would
be valuable knowledge to many people in the great city.
In the fall of 1870, a middle aged woman committed suicide in New York.
For some months she had pursued a singular career in the great city, and
had literally lived by her wits. While her main object was to live
comfortably at other people's expense, she also devoted herself to an
attempt to acquire property without paying for it. She arrived in New
York in the spring of 1868, and took lodgings at an up-town hotel. She
brought no baggage, but assured the clerk that her trunks had been
unjustly detained by a boarding house keeper in Boston with whom she had
had a difficulty. She succeeded in winning the confidence of the clerk,
and told him that she had just come into possession of a fortune of one
million dollars, left her by a rich relative, and that she had come to
New York to purchase a home. She completely deceived the clerk, who
vouched for her respectability and responsibility, and thus satisfied the
proprietor of the hotel. She made the acquaintance of nearly all the
resident guests of the house, and so won their sympathy and confidence
that she was able to borrow from them considerable sums of money. In
this way she lived from house to house, making payments on account only
when obliged to do so, and when she could no longer remain at the hotels,
she took up her quarters at a private boarding house, passing thence to
another, and so on. She spent two years in this way, borrowing money
continually, and paying very little for her board.
In pursuance of her plan to acquire real estate without paying for it,
she made her appearance in the market as a purchaser. In the summer of
1870, she obtained permits of one of the leading real estate agents of
the city to examine property in his hands for sale, and finally selected
a house on Madison avenue. The price asked was $100,000, but she coolly
declared her readiness to pay the full amount in cash as soon as the
necessary deeds could be prepared. The real estate dealer was completely
deceived by her seeming frankness, and assured her that he would give his
personal attention to the details of the transaction, so that her
interests would not suffer, and a day was agreed upon for the completion
of the purchase.
The woman then assumed a confidential tone, and told the gentleman of her
immense fortune. She was absolutely alone in the city, she said, without
relatives or friends to whom she could apply for advice in the management
of her property, and she urged him to become her trustee and manage the
estate for her, offering him a liberal compensation for his services.
Her object was to make him her trustee, induce him to act for her in the
purchase of the house, and involve him so far as to secure the success of
her scheme for getting possession of the property. The dealer, however,
thanked her for her preference, but assured her that it was impossible
for him to accept her proposition, as he had made it a rule never to act
as trustee for any one. He did not in the least suspect her real design,
and but for this previous and fixed determination would have acceded to
her request. Finding that she could not shake his resolution, the lady
took her departure, promising to return on the day appointed for the
payment of the purchase money.
At the time designated, the deeds were ready, and the real estate agent
and the owner of the Madison avenue mansion awaited the coming of the
lady; but she did not appear, and, after a lapse of several days, the two
gentlemen concluded they had been victimized, and then the true character
of the trusteeship he had been asked to assume broke upon the real estate
agent. The audacity and skill of the scheme fairly staggered him.
After the failure of this scheme, the woman tried several others of a
similar character, with the same success. In October, 1870, a city
newspaper, having obtained information respecting her transactions from
some of her victims, published an account of her career. The next day
she committed suicide, and was found dead in her bed.
Not long since a city lawyer, whom we shall call Smith, and who is much
given to the procuring of patent divorces for dissatisfied husbands and
wives, was visited by a richly dressed lady, who informed him that she
was Mrs. P---, the wife of Mr. P---, of Fifth avenue, and that she wished
to retain his services in procuring a divorce from her husband, on the
ground of ill treatment. Mr. P--- was personally a stranger to the
lawyer, who knew him, however, as a man of great wealth. Visions of a
heavy fee flashed before him, and he encouraged the lady to make a full
statement of her grievances, promising to do his best to secure the
desired divorce in the shortest possible time. He made full notes of her
statement, and assured her that he felt confident that he would be able
to obtain not only the divorce, but a very large sum as alimony. In
reply to her question as to his charge for his services, he replied:
"Well, I ought to charge you $1000, but out of consideration for your
sufferings, I will only take a retainer of $100, and when we have gained
our suit, you will pay me $500 additional."
"That is very reasonable," said the lady, "and I accept the terms.
Unfortunately, I have nothing with me but a check for $200, given me by
my husband this morning to use in shopping. I shall only need half of
it, and if you could get it cashed for me--but, no matter, I'll call
to-morrow, and make the payment."
Smith, who had seen the millionaire's heavy signature at the bottom of
the cheek, thought he had better make sure of his retainer, and offered
to accept the check on the spot. He had just $100 in his pocket, and
this he gave to the lady who handed him the check, with the urgent
entreaty that he would not betray her to her husband.
"He shall know nothing of the matter until it is too late for him to harm
you," said the lawyer, gallantly, as he bowed his fair client out of the
office.
It was after three o'clock, and Smith was forced to wait until the next
morning before presenting his check at the bank on which it was drawn.
Then, to his astonishment, the teller informed him that the signature of
Mr. P--- was a forgery. Thoroughly incensed, Smith hastened to the
office of the millionaire, and, laying the check before him, informed him
that his wife had been guilty of forging his name, and that he must make
the check good, or the lady would be exposed and punished. The
millionaire listened blandly, stroking his whiskers musingly, and when
the lawyer paused, overcome with excitement, quietly informed him that he
was sorry for him, but that he, Mr. P---, had the misfortune to be
without a wife. He had been a widower for five years.
How Smith found his way into the street again, he could never tell, but
he went back to his work a sadder and a wiser man, musing upon the
trickiness of mankind in general, and of women in particular.
[Picture: THE SOLDIER MINSTREL.]