GADSHILL.
During the morning of January 31, at the hour of 9:30 o'clock,
the St. Louis and Texas express train, with a goodly number of
passengers, and the mails and valuable express freight, departed
from the Plum street depot in St. Louis, bound for Texas, via the
St. Louis, Iron Mountain and Southern railroad. Mr. C. A. Alford
was the conductor in charge of the train when it departed, and when
the event which we are about to describe occurred.
Gadshill, a name rich in historical associations, is a lonely
wayside station on the road, situated in the northeast corner of
Wayne county, Missouri, about seven miles from Piedmont, which is
the nearest telegraph station.
The 31st of January, 1874, was a dreary, winter day. The cold gray
clouds veiled the sky, and no ray of sunlight filtered through the
wintry pall.
The day wore away, wearily enough, with the passengers on Mr.
Alford's train. They had not yet been together a sufficient length
of time to assimilate, and each one was left to his, or her, own
device for amusement or entertainment. Slowly the hours passed
away. The landscape was cold, dreary and forbidding; the winds came
blowing from the north with a chill in their breath that made
the passengers think longingly of "sweet home." Iron Mountain,
and Pilot Knob, and Shepherd's Mountain, and the beautiful valley
of Arcadia, in their winter dress, wore anything but a pleasing
aspect. In fact, it was a comfortless sort of day, which made the
passengers feel anything but merry.
Nightfall was approaching. Already the thick atmosphere was
becoming sombre in hue, and it was evident the curtains of darkness
were falling over the earth.
By this time it was about 5:30 o'clock in the afternoon. The
train was approaching the little station dignified by the name
of Gadshill, in honor of the locality where Sir John Falstaff so
valiantly met the Buckramite host, an event graphically delineated
by the historian and poet of all climes and times. As the train
drew near, the engineer saw the red flag displayed, and whistled
"down brakes."
Before proceeding to relate what happened to the train and the
passengers on it, we shall state what had happened at Gadshill
before the train came.
About half-past three o'clock that afternoon, a party of seven men,
splendidly mounted and armed to the teeth, rode to the station,
secured the agent, then took in a blacksmith, and afterwards all
the citizens and two or three countrymen, and one lad, who were
waiting for the arrival of the train. Among the persons so detained
was the son of Dr. Rock, at that time Representative in the
Legislature from Wayne county. The captives were taken to the little
station-house and confined there, under the surveillance of one of
the armed robbers. Then the bandits set about completing their
arrangements for executing the work which they had come to perform.
The signal flag was displayed on the track and the lower end of the
switch was opened, so that the train would be ditched if it attempted
to pass. Then the bandits waited for their prey.
In due time the train came dashing down the road. The engineer
saw the flag and gave the signal for stopping. Mr. Alford, the
conductor, was ready to step upon the little platform as soon as
the train came alongside. The robbers did not show themselves
until the cars were at the station. No sooner had the train come
to a full halt than Mr. Alford stepped off to the platform. He was
instantly confronted by the muzzle of a pistol and greeted with the
salutation:
"Give me your money and your watch, d--n your soul! quick!"
Mr. Alford had no alternative. He gave up his pocketbook containing
fifty dollars in money, and an elegant gold watch.
"Get in there!" they commanded, and Mr. Alford obeyed.
While this was going on, one of the brigands had covered the
engineer with a revolver, and compelled him to leave his cab.
Meanwhile, part of the band occupied the platforms at the ends of
the passenger coaches, while two of them went through the train
with a revolver in one hand and commanded the passengers to give
up their money. Of course the defenseless travellers yielded their
change to the uttermost farthing into the hands of the robbers.
Mr. John H. Morley, chief engineer of the St. Louis, Iron Mountain
& Southern Railroad, was among the passengers, and was plundered
along with the rest of them. The robbers made a clean sweep, taking
money, watches and jewelry from all. Among the passengers robbed,
were Silas Ferry, C. D. Henry, Geo. G. Dent, Mr. Scott, Sr., Mr.
Scott, Jr., Mr. Lincoln, Mr. Meriam, O. S. Newell and A. McLain.
After having effectually stripped the passengers of worldly wealth,
the robbers proceeded to the express car, broke open the safe, and
secured the contents. The mail bags were next cut open and their
contents rifled of everything of value. The whole amount of money
secured by the robbers was somewhere between eight and ten thousand
dollars. After completing their work the bandits went to Mr. Alford
and remarked that as he was conductor he needed a watch, and they
gave him back his timekeeper.
When they had satisfied themselves that there was no more plunder
to be gained, they released the conductor and engineer, and told
them to draw out at once.
As the robbers, whose part of the business it was to relieve the
passengers of their spare cash, passed through the cars, they
asked each one of the gentlemen passengers his name. One of the
victims, a Mr. Newell, asked the brigands,
"What do you want to know that for?"
"D--n you, out with your name, and ask questions afterward!" was
the profane reply.
"Well, my name is Newell, and here's my money, and now I want to
know why you ask me for my name?" said Mr. Newell, with an attempt
at pleasantry, fortified by a sort of grim smile.
"You seem to be a sort of jolly coon, anyhow," said the robber,
"and I'll gratify you. That old scoundrel, Pinkerton, is on this
train, or was to have been on it, and we want to get him, so that
we can cut out his heart and roast it."
During the time they were in the cars among the passengers, they
mentioned the name of Pinkerton many times, and exhibited the
most intense hatred of the distinguished detective. It was very
fortunate for Mr. Allan Pinkerton that he was not a passenger on
the train that lumbered up to the dreary station of Gadshill that
winter day.
This circumstance is confirmatory of the evidence that Jesse and
Frank James were leaders in the Gadshill affair. They, for years,
have cherished the most bitter animosity toward the detective, and
the very mention of his name was sufficient to render them almost
frantic with rage.
The citizens were released, and the robbers mounted their horses
and rode away in the gathering darkness, over the forest-crowned
hills to the west.
Some of the features of this bold robbery were ludicrous in the
extreme. The trepidation of the passengers made the job a quick
one, because they were ready on demand to give up everything to
the freebooters. One passenger complained at the hardship, and the
following dialogue ensued:
"Give me your money, watch and jewelry, you blamed cur! quick!"
"Now, please, I--"
"Dry up, d--n you, and shell out!" And the robber thrust a pistol
against his temple.
"Oh, yes! Excuse m-m-me, p-p-p-please, d-don't shoot. Here's a-all
I've g-got in t-t-the world." And the poor fellow, all tremblingly,
handed up his wealth.
"I'm a good mind to shoot you, anyhow," remarked the robber, "for
being so white livered."
At this the alarmed traveller crouched down behind a seat.
It was nightfall when the robbers rode away. Gadshill is in the
midst of a wilderness country. There are but few settlements among
the hills, and it was impossible to organize an effective posse at
once for pursuit. At Piedmont, on the arrival of the train, the
news was telegraphed to St. Louis and Little Rock. The citizens of
that vicinity were aroused, and before midnight a well armed posse
of a dozen men were riding over the hills westward in pursuit.
But the robbers, who were all mounted on blooded horses, rode
swiftly away. Before the dawn of day they were sixty miles from
the scene of the crime. They called at the residence of a widow
lady named Cook, one mile above Carpentersville, on the Current
river, to obtain a breakfast. There were but five of them in the
party, and these were each armed with a pair of pistols and a
repeating rifle. They continued on, and passed Mr. Payne's on
the Big Piney, in Texas county, and went to the house of the
Hon. Mr. Mason, then a member of the State Legislature, and who
was at that time absent attending its session, and demanded food
and lodging from Mrs. Mason. They remained there all night, and
proceeded westward in the morning. The same day that the five men
took breakfast with Mrs. Cook, a dozen pursuers from Gadshill and
Piedmont arrived at the same place, having tracked them sixty
miles.