_A Detective Reminiscence._--_An Operation in Bridgeport in
1866._--_The Adams Express Robbery._--_A Half Million of Dollars
Stolen._--_Capture of the Thieves._--_One of the Principals Turns
State's Evidence._--_Conviction and Punishment._
When a great crime has been committed the public mind experiences a
sensation of horror. Imaginative persons are busy in the formation of
all sorts of fancies with regard to the perpetrators. His probable
appearance, gigantic proportions and horrible aspect are duly
commented upon, and exaggeration invariably takes the place of fact
in such estimations. In the majority of cases that have come under my
notice the personal appearance of the criminal belied the possibility
of his guilt.
The verdant spectator is frequently amazed to find the apparent
gentleman, attired with the precision of the tailor's art, with
immaculate linen, and of delicate, and sometimes refined appearance
arraigned for the crime of robbery or murder.
Many times I have seen the eager spectator in a court-room, looking
vainly among the group of lawyers before the bar, for the monster
they have conjured up in their imaginations, and finally settling
upon some sharp-featured, but unimpeachable attorney as the
malefactor, indulge in wise reflections as to the impossibility of
mistaking a rogue from his appearance.
I have seen their start of surprise as the real criminal, genteel,
cool and gentlemanly, would rise from his seat and plead to the
indictment that would be read to him, and their solemn shake of the
head as their wise reflections were scattered to the winds.
My first experience with the town of Bridgeport was particularly
suggestive of these reflections. I was engaged in a detective
operation in which the Adams Express Company were the sufferers,
having been robbed of a large amount of money, and, as the robbery
took place in the vicinity of that city, the thieves, whom I
succeeded in capturing, were confined in the jail there.
The affair occurred during the first week of January, 1866, and the
facts were as follows:
On the night of the sixth of January, in the year just mentioned, the
public mind was startled by the announcement that the Adams Express
Company had been robbed of over a half million of dollars, by the
thieves breaking into the car in which their valuables were placed,
prying open the safes, and abstracting over six hundred thousand
dollars, in notes, bonds and other valuable securities.
The train to which the car was attached had left New York for Boston
at eight o' clock in the evening, and it was not until arriving at
New Haven that the depredation was discovered.
The dismay of the company's officials may be imagined when, on
entering the car at the latter place, the fractured safes met their
astonished gaze. A marlin spike, three dark lanterns and a sledge
hammer which lay beside them, told too plainly how the work had been
accomplished, but it furnished no clue as to how, or when, or by
whom.
The car was of the ordinary size of a box freight car, built with an
iron frame, sheathed over with thick sheet iron plates, rivetted
strongly together, and so closely made that a light placed inside
could not be seen when the doors were closed. A messenger always
accompanied this car, but he usually sat in the baggage car of the
train, and as the train did not make any stoppages between New York
and New Haven, it was only at this time that the theft was discovered
by the entrance of the messenger.
It further appeared that the company's safes were taken from the
depot in New York and placed in the iron car, which was waiting upon
a side-track, and which was immediately afterwards attached to the
train.
The safes having been placed in the car, the door was securely
locked, and, as the train was then ready to start, the agent of the
company gave the word "All right!" The train started and sped upon
its journey, and nothing further was known until its arrival at New
Haven and the discovery of the theft.
I was immediately notified of the matter, and after a careful
observation of the safes and an investigation into the facts of the
case, I thought I detected the handiwork of a party of young thieves
whom I had accidentally encountered in another operation in which I
had been engaged some months previously.
Operatives were immediately despatched in various directions, and the
movements of the suspected parties were carefully but unobservedly
watched. Very soon after, I succeeded in running down two of the
parties, named John Tristram and Thomas Clark, and upon arresting
them each one had in his possession a gold watch, both of which were
identified as stolen property. They were accordingly conveyed to
Bridgeport and held to await their trial.
Mr. Wells, the genial and efficient keeper of the prison, whose
acquaintance I had previously made, received the prisoners and
securely fastened them up.
A few days following this, an old resident of Norwalk, who was also
an uncle of one of the men arrested, was observed by one of my men,
carrying a package of unusual weight from his residence to the house
of a sister of Tristram in New York City, and an examination of the
house resulted in finding nearly eighty seven thousand dollars of the
stolen treasure. The old man was arrested, but developments proved
too plainly that he was only acting as a mere blind messenger for the
other parties, and he was accordingly discharged.
The trial of the two men, which subsequently took place at
Bridgeport, was attended by a large array of New York burglars,
shoplifters and pick-pockets--all friends of the criminals. They were
closely watched, as it was feared that they intended making some
attempt to rescue the prisoners. This precaution proved not to have
been in vain, for during the sitting of the court an attempt was made
to purloin an iron box in which most of the testimony intended for
use in the case, was kept. This was fortunately discovered in time,
and many of the individuals concerned in it left town immediately.
On the trial Tristram pleaded guilty and was sentenced to a term of
imprisonment of three years and six months.
From the evidence upon the part of the company, it appeared that the
money in the safes was in four separate pouches, and consisted mainly
of currency belonging to banking institutions, and all of which
lacked the signatures of the bank officers to give it full character
as money.
The amounts taken were as follows:
From the Washington Pouch, $278,000.00
From the Baltimore Pouch, 150,000.00
From the Philadelphia Pouch, 100,000.00
From the New York Pouch, 150,000.00
----------
$678,000.00
The two watches that were found upon the prisoners and identified as
stolen from the safes, were designed as gifts, and were being carried
by the company for delivery to the friends of the givers in Boston.
Clark stood trial alone and was found guilty of only one count of the
information against him, and his counsel obtained a stay of
proceedings.
I was now determined to capture the other members of the gang, and my
arrangements were made accordingly. I suspected an individual named
James Wells as being a participant in the robbery, and therefore made
him the principal object of attack.
Wells was living at home with his mother at that time, and I
succeeded in introducing one of my operatives into the house as a
boarder. This operative cultivated the acquaintance of James, and
proved a very agreeable companion indeed, while by the female members
of the family he was regarded as one of the most pleasant boarders
imaginable. The work was admirably accomplished, and he obtained all
the information that was necessary to enable me to act intelligently
and actively in the matter.
Prompt arrests followed, and Martin Allen, James Wells, Gilly
McGloyn, Eddy Watson and John Grady were pounced upon and conveyed to
prison.
Thus far the evidence obtained had been of a character sufficient to
warrant an arrest, but hardly of convincing force to justify a
conviction upon a trial by jury.
Most of the stolen property had been recovered, and I finally decided
to make an onslaught upon the weak points of Clark, the man
previously arrested, and now awaiting the new trial which had been
granted in his case.
Accordingly I visited the jail and had an interview with this
individual, who did not, at first, appear at all delighted with the
visit. In a short time, however, I had gained entire control of the
man, and he became like wax in my hands. He made a full confession of
the robbery, and declared his readiness to become a witness for the
prosecution. Having accomplished my purpose, I announced to the
officers of the State my readiness to proceed to trial, and my
sanguine hopes of a full conviction of the parties implicated.
The trial took place shortly afterwards in Danbury, and I do not
remember ever to have seen a more gentlemanly-looking array of
prisoners before a bar of justice.
They were all dressed in the most exquisite style, and deported
themselves in a manner far from what would ordinarily be expected
from men engaged in professional criminal pursuits.
During the trial the Court House was thronged by the fair sex of
Danbury, whose sympathetic hearts were profoundly touched at the
sight of these gentlemanly-appearing rascals. The attendance was
further augmented by the appearance of many of their friends, both
male and female, who came from New York to witness the proceedings
and offer their loving consolations to the unfortunates.
The alarm of these sympathetic friends reached a culminating point
when the prosecuting attorney arose in his place and announced that
he would place upon the stand one of the principals in the robbery,
who would unfold the plot and its successful execution. Each prisoner
looked at the other, and angry, suspicious glances flashed from the
eyes of them all. Threats were whispered audibly among their friends,
but no demonstration took place, and the silence in the court-room
became painfully oppressive as the State's attorney, after finishing
his address to the jury, called the name of Thomas Clark.
The prisoner took the stand, and, unabashed by the angry glances that
were directed towards him, he told the story of the robbery in a
plain, straightforward manner, that carried conviction to the minds
of both judge and jury.
The testimony which he gave was as follows:
"My connection with this robbery commenced on or about the 20th of
December last (1865), at which time I met Martin Allen at a saloon in
New York City. It was on that occasion that he told me that his
brother-in-law, James Wells, who resided in Brooklyn, had an
acquaintance named Gilly McGloyn, and that Gilly had a brother-in-law
named Grady, who was a brakeman on the express train of the New York
and New Haven Railroad, which left New York at 8 o'clock in the
evening. He also said that Grady wanted McGloyn to get somebody to
help throw the safes out of that train. McGloyn went to Wells on
purpose to inform him, and Wells told him of it, and Allen told me.
"The next day Allen, Wells, McGloyn and Grady met me at Lafayette
Hall, on Broadway, about the 21st of December. At that time Grady
exhibited a piece of soap which contained an impression of a key-hole
in the lock of the Adams Express car. In the course of the
conversation which ensued at that time, Grady said that there were
two messengers who looked after the Adams Express cars alternately,
one on each alternate night. He said that the most careless of the
two messengers was named Moore, and that his evenings from New York
were Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Grady said he thought any one
of those evenings would be the best to select for the purpose of
committing the robbery.
"Some time afterward, on a night when Moore had charge of the express
car, I got on the train at Forty-second street, and went into the
smoking car. There was a man there busy making a fire in the stove,
and in a few moments Grady came into the car, and in order to
signalize to me who Moore was, slapped the man on the back, saying,
'Billy Moore, you don't know how to make a fire.'
"The place which I selected as the proper point for throwing off the
safes was between Coscob Bridge and Stamford. I hit upon that spot
for the purpose, because at that point the distance between stoppages
was short, being only three miles from Coscob Bridge to Stamford. I
left the train at Bridgeport, where I stopped at the Atlantic Hotel,
near the depot, all night. I returned to New York by the 10 o'clock
train next morning. I think it was the same day that the parties I
have named had another meeting at Lafayette Hall.
"It was at that time we arranged a plan for getting the safes out at
Forty-second street, where we got the size of the lock of the express
car. Next day Allen and myself visited nearly every hardware store in
New York for the purpose of purchasing a lock similar to that on the
car. The nearest to it in appearance was found in a store on Howard
street, between Crosby street and Broadway. We wanted this lock to
put on the door of the car after breaking the other off. That same
day Allen and Wells went to the same store and bought a sledge
hammer. On the evening of the same day Allen went to Crowe's livery
stable and hired a horse and a heavy express wagon.
"Some time before this Allen and I went to a blacksmith shop and had
a piece of steel made into shape for the purpose of prying the lock
off the car. No less than five efforts were made to take the safes
off the car at Forty-second street, on nights when Moore was
messenger. Next day after our last attempt Allen, McGloyn, Grady and
myself met at Lafayette Hall and arranged to abandon the Forty-second
street plan. Tristram, Hudson and McGuire were never present at our
conferences at Lafayette Hall. I used to meet McGuire and tell him
what had transpired, and he used to convey the intelligence to
Tristram and Hudson.
"The new plan was that three of us were to secrete ourselves in the
express car during its brief stay at Forty-second street, and the
other five were to go in the passenger cars. We three were to throw
off the safes after the train got over the Harlem Bridge. The five
were to get out at the bridge. After the three had thrown off the
safes they were to ring the bell, stop the train, get off and walk
back till they met the others. They were then to take the safes to
some convenient place, break them open, and pack the money and
valuables in two valises which they had with them, and leave the
safes there.
"On the night of the 6th of January last, the eight of us, Allen,
Tristram, McGuire, Hudson, Wells, McGloyn, Grady and myself met by
previous agreement, about seven o'clock, near the depot and
Forty-second street. McGuire brought with him two carpet-bags, a
marlin spike and a common mortising chisel. The others of us had a
piece of steel, a lock, a sledge hammer and a dark lantern. Hudson,
Grady, McGuire and myself got in between the express car and the
freight train, and managed to break the lock with the marlin spike.
We then drew back the door and three of us, Grady, McGuire and
myself, got in. Hudson then placed the lock in the staple outside,
but not in the hasp, and then closed the door. This was to save
appearances.
"We sat quietly until the train got in the tunnel, between New York
and Harlem. We found three safes in the car. We got one of them over
and tried to break in the bottom with the sledge hammer, but we found
this would not work. We then took the marlin spike, drove it into the
door of the safe and pried it open. McGuire held the spike and Grady
and I knocked it in. Having packed the contents of this in a
carpet-bag, we broke open another safe, the contents of which we also
packed away. The reason we did not get out after passing Harlem
Bridge was because we discovered, after getting into the car, that
the rope was in an iron tube, and that prevented our stopping the
car.
[Illustration: "_We pried the safe open._"]
"At Coscob Station we got out and hid one of the bags in a pile of
lumber. We then walked up the track a mile toward Stamford, where we
hid in a stone wall the large carpet-bag. The three of us then,
unincumbered, walked to Stamford. Here Grady lived, and he wished us
to go to a barn, and said he would bring us something to eat; but
McGuire and I thought it best to go back to New York as soon as
possible; so we got aboard a freight train for Norwalk and took the
Owl, a midnight train, from there. Going to New York we sat in
different parts of the car and did not speak. The train stopped for
some reason or other at One Hundred and Twentieth street, and there
McGuire and I got out.
"We were then on our way to Tristram's house, and there we met Allen,
Hudson and Tristram. They told us they had got on the car as agreed
upon, and had got off at Harlem Bridge, and walked up the track about
six miles, but, failing to find us, had become disgusted and returned
home. That evening Tristram, McGuire and I started for Norwalk in the
five o'clock train. We all got off at Stamford, and I went to a
livery stable, for the purpose of hiring a horse and wagon in order
to remove the stolen property. I told the stable keeper I was going
to Norwalk, but it was so cold he would not hire his horses. We could
not get a horse at Stamford, so we arranged to take the next train to
Norwalk. We reached Norwalk the next day, and stopped at the house of
old Josiah Tristram till Tuesday evening. On Monday evening we were
joined by Hudson. He came to the house with Tristram in a Rockaway
carriage. We then went to Coscob Bridge, got the hidden bags, and
returned to Tristram's house. We here unpacked and repacked the bags,
tying a couple of skate straps about them, so as to be handy for
Josiah Tristram to carry them to New York next day, January 9. We
remained here Tuesday evening, when Tristram and I were arrested."
The effect of Clark's evidence was thrilling in the extreme. The
story was too potent for cross-examination. The enemy was badly
shattered and demoralized. Ex-Judge Stuart, counsel for the
prisoners, maintained the currency was not money because it was
incomplete without the bank officers' signatures, but he was
overruled by the court.
A host of witnesses were then produced to prove that Allen, Wells and
some of the other prisoners were elsewhere on the night of the
robbery. The characters of the witnesses for the defense broke down
under cross-examination; but no matter, the jury disagreed--a result
which had been anticipated owing to certain associations of one of
the jurors with friends of some of the prisoners.
A second trial was ordered, and took place in Danbury during the
latter part of the year. During the interval that elapsed before the
second trial, McGuire, who was out on bail, took part in the bold
robbery of the Bowdoinham Bank, in Maine, for which he is now serving
out a fifteen years' sentence in State Prison.
Hudson managed to escape before the first arrest of the prisoners,
and with ten thousand dollars of the stolen money went to Europe,
where he has been ever since.
One of Allen's friends, who was visiting Danbury with his family
during the first trial, and who was on visiting terms with one of the
jurors, represented to an old friend who met him in the hotel that he
"had found Jesus" and was "leading a new life." He was congratulated,
but carefully watched.
One of the female witnesses for the _alibi_, a handsome brunette,
said, on cross examination, that she was a dressmaker, but seldom
made dresses, as she was the recipient of two hundred dollars every
week from a New York merchant, who admired her for her beauty.
At the second trial the four remaining prisoners, McGuire having gone
into business in Maine, fared not so well. They were convicted and
sent to Wethersfield, from whence some of them may have emerged wiser
and better members of society. Some of them could not reform. The
stolen money was nearly all recovered, and the Adams Express Company
had, long previous to the end of the trial, indemnified all their
customers for any loss sustained by the robbery.