A CALAMITY AVERTED.
Mr. Franklin was, the same evening, duly instructed where the detective
intended to be the next night and informed of the probability that he
would succeed in frustrating the designs of the bridge-burners, at even
the last moment, as he had his own plans, should there come a failure in
creating a disturbance which would result in a disbandment of the two
forces engaged in the matter—the Mollies, as well as non-Mollies. The
agent also suggested and described a medium through which the
Superintendent might communicate with him, by telegraph, before the
arrival of the decisive time, should he find it important to do so. Up
to the hour of leaving Shenandoah, to attend the Tuesday night meeting
in the bush, however, no telegram came, hence McKenna knew that he was
entrusted with the entire management of his side of the transaction, the
Agency being left to take care of the other.
Tuesday, April 6, 1875, came, bright and cloudless, as though dark
desires and hellish passions were not swaying the human breast, and
danger threatening the lives of those who reveled in the clear sunlight
of the present, buoyant and hopeful for the future. Passing the day in
talking with the principal Mollies interested in the bridge enterprise,
the Secretary started, at about eight in the evening, accompanied by Pat
Butler—who still seemed determined to wait and learn what the outsiders
had to say about the thing before he committed himself and his division
to the scheme—for the place on the verge of the mountain. Butler was
more than half inclined, the Shenandoah Secretary was pleased to see, to
let the outsiders have the plot their own way and allow the same parties
to perform the work of destruction by themselves. McAndrew, who soon
joined Butler and McKenna, was also averse to receiving any assistance
from those not within the order. Still all were agreed to attend the
preliminary meeting, hence they gathered, under the starlight, at Number
Three Hill.
McKenna was not afraid of the outside citizens executing the job,
unaided, after having fully disclosed their ideas to the Mollies, and
was equally certain that the brotherhood would refuse to do it under
similar circumstances, hence his obvious labor was to foment division,
and make its performance impossible for either party. This he proceeded
to do, and found it no easy task. Strong words had to be employed with
the Mollies, most of whom were greatly in favor of the undertaking, to
make them willing to abandon it. His principal reliance he found to be
the jealousy of the society regarding the interference of all other
combinations, and its disinclination to join in an overt act with people
not members. Using this as his _piece de resistance_, in the
commencement, he added to it, from time to time, such suggestive
incidents as came to mind.
“I’ll go to the divil, or just anywhere,” he said, “with the right sort
of people, but these strangers I’m not so quick to follow! I’m forninst
colloguin’ wid men not known to be friends.”
“So am I!” said Pat Butler, a hardy little fellow, with black hair, a
keen eye, and a look of resolution on his sharp face.
“And I,” echoed McAndrew.
The scene presented at Number Three Hill was impressive, but almost
shrouded in darkness. Seated on rocks, bits of logs, and heaps of earth,
and leaning against the bodies of stunted trees, the men were grouped,
recognizing each other by their shapes and the sound of their voices.
The stars gave just light enough, at that hour and season of the year,
to make human faces and figures dimly visible.
Brennan, who had been so forward in the inception of the job, hearing,
early in the day, from a voluntary emissary of McKenna, that Shenandoah
Division was greatly opposed to the joint movement, did not make his
appearance at Number Three on that particular evening, nor did any of
the non-Mollies, who had been promised, assemble at the spot. The
following persons were there: John Thompson, John Dean, Pat Butler, John
Gibbons, Frank McAndrew, Fenton Cooney, Mike Doyle, Ed Sweeney, Mike
Casey, Chas. Hayes, Mike Murphy, Pat Whalen, and James McKenna.
Not a pipe was smoked in that silent conclave. Men spoke in whispers,
and moved with stealthy tread, for fear that a spark of fire or loud
word might disclose the whereabouts of the conspirators. McKenna stood
among the rest, leaning against the trunk of a tree, expecting every
moment to hear the sound of approaching footsteps, announcing the
arrival of the allies of the Mollies; but in this way an hour passed and
nobody came; then, as silently as they had come together, the crowd
dispersed, and the enterprise was a pronounced failure.
At McHale’s saloon, in Shenandoah, an hour later, the principal Mollies
reconvened, in a convivial way, when, no others being present, drinks
were procured and all pledged themselves never to have anything to do
with business of a serious character when any outsider was to be
interested. Especially were they to refuse co-operation where they
themselves were not the persons to plan an entire movement.
The same night Gibbons informed McKenna that he had been several days
trying to induce Thompson, of Number Three Hill, to aid him in a plan by
which the company—the Philadelphia and Reading Coal and Iron
Company—would be greatly injured. The idea was to go, in the dark, and
run a loaded truck, then standing at Grover’s Breaker, down the railroad
track, when a train would be coming from an opposite direction. It must
then occur that the train, locomotive and cars, would come in collision
with the coal car and all be smashed in pieces. Thompson had thus far
refused, as he was sure that the engineer, fireman, and brakemen, and
possibly others, would be killed. Beside he thought the engine might
naturally be crowded with workmen, returning to their homes, and he was
not favorable to killing innocent persons merely in order to spite one
corporation. Gibbons argued that the train would not be thrown off, only
the truck smashed, track torn up, and consequent delay in shipping coal
insured.
Here was another thing that the detective must have an eye upon. It
added to the now constant pressure upon his mind. The elements were
around. Violence was in the air. McKenna should have a care for himself,
and for the great purpose of all his thoughts and acts. He knew not what
the morrow might bring forth.
At this time it was calculated by those who had every facility for
knowing, that there were thirty thousand members of the Ancient Order of
Hibernians—otherwise the Mollie Maguires—in the State of Pennsylvania,
and, in the county of Schuylkill alone, where my agents were most
actively operating, some two thousand five hundred. These figures may be
exaggerated, or may not, but it is undoubtedly true that there were
enough in the Commonwealth to carry the elections and to produce
wide-spread terror in the coal regions. So invincible was their power,
that they had but to say the word and a priceless life was thenceforth
worth no more than the powder burnt in its destruction. The County
Delegate, Kehoe, needed only to crook his little finger or call upon the
officers of any adjoining county for help, in any nefarious undertaking,
and it was forthcoming. From the assassination of a man to the burning
of a breaker, or the whipping of a boss who refused to obey an order to
leave the country, he had but to command to be obeyed. The same rule
applied—only not to so wide an extent—with the Bodymasters of the
different divisions. Over their subordinates these officials exercised
complete control. Sometimes, it was true, as in the matter of Gomer
James, at Shenandoah, the members undertook to lead. But in McAndrew the
vengeful McHugh and Hurley found their match. He, when repeatedly urged,
even as late as the first of May, 1875, utterly refused to have anything
done, ending all cavil by once more promising that, when the resumption
came—if ever it did come—and the attention of the people would be
diverted from their society, he would get the men from Northumberland
County and have the Welshman silenced. Finding that they had not
sufficient force at command to put him out, the bloodthirsty trio were
compelled to wait. That is, for a time, they did wait, and McAndrew
still remained at the head of affairs.
Considering the increasing turbulence prevailing in the coal country,
and the rapid accumulation of crime since the dullness in the mining
business had set in, I, at this time, deemed it advisable to visit
Philadelphia, and hold a consultation with Mr. Franklin and McParlan,
_alias_ McKenna. This was, therefore, accomplished on the 28th of April,
1875. After talking the matter over with Mr. Franklin, and fully
exchanging views as to the future, Mr. F. B. Gowen, President of the
Philadelphia and Reading Railway, and of the Coal and Iron Company of
the same name, was sent for. He was ill at the time, but came promptly,
and we held a long and absorbing talk with him in my private parlor. The
work of the past two years was passed in review, supported by copies of
the reports from the Philadelphia Agency, and much said about the task
remaining to be performed, having in sight the early breaking up of the
powerful Mollie organization. From all we had heard, the society was now
more powerful than ever before. Its numbers were rapidly increasing, its
work becoming more desperate. Evidently something must be entered upon
that would have the effect of reducing the latter, and ending the bloody
deeds of the monsters who were deliberately planning to sacrifice human
life and millions of property.
Mr. Gowen was disposed to defer to my judgment in the business, knowing
that, for many months, I had made a study of the society, its rules and
_modus operandi_ in accomplishing its sanguinary purposes. He believed
that I could best suggest the plot for the coming campaign, which
everything portended was to be a bitter one.
“Mr. Gowen,” said I, upon receiving this information, “I wish, in this
connection, to ask you a legal question. Should I bring to the State a
number of my operatives, and have them sworn in as Coal and Iron Police,
under General Pleasants, and if they, in consequence of reports received
through detective McParlan, were to go to a certain locality and there
make the arrest of persons in the act of committing crimes, would they
be compelled subsequently to reveal the source of their knowledge? That
is, can such service be performed without at present uncovering McParlan
to the Mollie Maguires?”
I was anxious that McParlan—otherwise the good Mollie, James
McKenna—should remain _incognito_ for as great a length of time as
possible, and when no longer useful in this way, to be secretly removed
to some safe place, as I was aware of the fact that, without his
voluntary consent, his testimony in convicting the Mollies could not be
used. I had pledged him my word for that, and was not the man to change,
whatever consequences might impend.
Mr. Gowen replied:
“It will not be actually necessary to disclose our source of
information!”
“Very well,” I added. “I am pleased that it is so! This being settled, I
will have a good and trusted _employé_ sent here from Chicago, with
orders to go thoroughly through the country and over the ground, secure
an understanding of the localities in which it is supposed outrages may
be committed, and select a proper rendezvous for such persons as he may
need for his support. At this point, McParlan, _alias_ McKenna, can send
to or give them such information as he may secure, in time for the
prevention of crime or the capture, in the very act, of its
perpetrators. I want five or six of my best and most resolute
_attachés_, with an equal number of the Coal and Iron Police, who have
been duly tried and found fearless and capable, placed under control of
the chief operative who may be sent, thus forming a company of twelve,
to be at all times at command, to prevent murders and act upon such
suggestions as Messrs. Franklin and McParlan may furnish. I think, in
due season, we may succeed in breaking up this body of assassins and
cut-throats, and, in the course of a few months, perform labor which
will strike terror even to the black heart of the organization!”
“Anything and everything that we can legally give, you shall have! I
suggest Capt. Heisler, who has been Chief of the Coal and Iron Police,
as your lieutenant from that force. He is an intelligent and courageous
man, familiar with the topography of the entire locality, and the most
suitable officer I can select for the duty. When you are ready for work,
let us know, and he and a picked six of the police shall be ordered to
report to your local Superintendent. We must also communicate with
General Pleasants, who, as chief engineer, is General Superintendent of
the Coal and Iron Police, and he will see that your agents are sworn in
and made regular members of the corps. As for the details, and the
management, I leave them, as heretofore, wholly in your hands, and will
approve all suggestions made by you!”
I thanked Mr. Gowen for the confidence still reposed in me, and said I
would endeavor to be worthy of it.
“I will at once telegraph to Chicago,” I concluded, “for the men needed,
and proceed to their organization. When prepared, I will consult you
again.”
Mr. Gowen then left, and I summoned McParlan to meet me. I was somewhat
surprised to observe the change that two years had wrought in the
appearance of my operative. While there was no doubt that once more I
grasped McParlan by the hand, yet I could scarcely bring myself to
believe it. The voice was familiar, and the eye, but all beside seemed
different. Much of this transformation was probably owing to out-door
exposure, the hard life he had lived, and the yellow wig, which he had
been constrained to use after the loss of his hair. I was glad to see
that his general health was quite sound again, and the young man still
strong and hopeful for the success of his undertaking. Dressed once
more, for a few hours at least, in his former decent habiliments, and
having taken a bath and enjoyed some manipulations in the barber’s
chair, with a dressing down of the artificial head-covering, he seemed
more like his former self, and we held a long and profitable interview,
during which he related, much more graphically than I can describe, some
of the incidents of his life among the Mollies which I have woven into
the warp and woof of this narration.
A dispatch, purporting to come from McKenna’s sister, saying she was to
be married, and wanting him to come to the wedding, had been sent, as
per arrangement, preparatory to the meeting with me, demanding the
detective’s presence at the Agency.
McParlan’s sister was not married, but I wanted to see him; this he
distinctly understood, but his friends in Shenandoah did not. It rested
with the detective to answer all the questions that McAndrew, Lawler,
and the rest of the Mollies might ask him regarding the nuptials and how
he enjoyed himself. I knew he was capable of inventing stories, when on
detective duty, which would hang together and satisfy all his
acquaintances. That night, with a lighter heart and vigorous
determination to labor for the extinction of the hateful clan, McKenna
bid me adieu and returned to his former headquarters.
He told McAndrew a fine tale about the magnificence of his sister’s
wedding, the name of her husband, the articles comprising the bridal
supper, the brands of champagne and wines they consumed, with other
particulars too minute for use in these pages. He ended by saying that
he had met his old partner in the “queer” business, and made a raise of
enough money to last him for some time—a large balance having been
invested in a speculation in the city, from which he was to hear
regularly by letter. This last item of information, as he expected it
would, reached the post-office within the course of a few days, and at
once relieved the mind of the delivery clerk as to a man of McKenna’s
character keeping up such an extended correspondence. The aforesaid
clerk would have told the public nothing, at any rate, but it was just
as well to have his thoughts at rest on the subject. And, as the
detective might have occasion to spend money more freely, he felt
compelled to make an early exhibit of the source from whence the cash
came.
In the meantime the Annual County Convention had been held, and Kehoe
duly elected County Delegate, having, until the occurrence of that
event, been holding the office under appointment of the State branch of
the order. Now Kehoe was King of the Mollies in Schuylkill, in fact as
well as in name. The wily fellow had accomplished his purpose. We shall
see what he did with his power.
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