Author: jpkntz

#196 William Hague

~ jpkntz

William Hague (Abt. 1844-1924), aka Curly/Curley Harris, John Hague, John Harris, Henry Abrams, Henry Miller, Jack Davis, etc. — Pickpocket, Burglar, Murderer

From Byrnes’s text:

DESCRIPTION. Forty-three years old in 1886. Jew, born in United States. Married. No trade. Medium build. Height, 5 feet 5 inches. Weight, about 140 pounds. Looks like, and is, a Jew. Dark eyes, black curly hair, dark complexion. Generally wears a black mustache. Four dots of India ink on left arm. Has a vaccination mark and mole on right arm above the elbow.

RECORD. “Curly” Harris is one of the most desperate thieves and ruffians in America. He is well known in all the large cities in the United States, especially in Philadelphia, where he makes his home.
Harris, with “Brummagen Bill” and James Elliott, two other notorious Philadelphia thieves, robbed Hughy Dougherty, the minstrel performer, in a saloon on Ninth Street, above Jayne, in Philadelphia, some years ago. The thieves subsequently, in passing the corner of Sixth and Market streets, were accosted by Officer Murphy, whereupon Harris deliberately drew his revolver and fired. The ball, fortunately for the officer, struck the buckle of his belt, which saved his life. “Brummagen Bill” and Elliott were arrested and convicted, and sentenced respectively to eleven and sixteen years’ imprisonment in the Eastern Penitentiary.

Harris escaped, but was afterwards arrested in Pittsburg, Pa. The authorities of Philadelphia chartered a special car, and traveled westward after the fugitive criminal. While returning, Harris, with his hands still manacled, escaped from his captors, and although the train was traveling at the rate of forty miles an hour, he jumped from the rear platform of a car, and a diligent search failed to reveal his whereabouts.

Nothing was heard of “Curly” for some years, and this was owing to the fact that he had been arrested and convicted in the northern part of the State of New York for a hotel robbery, and sentenced to six years in State prison. After his release he boldly went back to Philadelphia, and was arrested there for robbing the American Hotel. He was acquitted, however, and when the old charge against him for the Dougherty affair was spoken of, it was found that the minstrel performer and the officer could not be found to prosecute him.

Harris was arrested again in New York City on May 6, 1880, and delivered to the police authorities of Philadelphia, charged with the murder of James Reilly, alias John Davis, another hotel thief. The murder was committed on August 25, 1879. Reilly resided with his wife on Orange Street, Philadelphia. Upon the day mentioned he was picked up bleeding in front of a saloon at Eighth and Sansom streets. On September 13, 1879, the wounded man died from a fracture of the skull. From facts subsequently gathered it appears that Harris met Reilly and asked him for some money, and the latter replied that he had none. He was then told to go to his wife and obtain some, which he abruptly declined to do. Harris, in his usual cowardly manner, drew a revolver, aimed it directly at his partner in crime and pulled the trigger. The cartridge did not explode, and the desperado then pushed the barrel of his pistol with so much force into one of Reilly’s eyes as to fracture his skull and cause his death. Harris was tried and convicted in June, 1880, and sentenced to ten years in State prison on July 3, 1880, by Judge Yerkers, in Philadelphia. His sentence will expire on June 3, 1888.

From Byrnes’ 1895 Edition:

Harris was arrested again at Buffalo, N.Y., on September 7, 1888. He was found in the Mansion House, about to sneak into a room which had been left unlocked. He was held on a charge of vagrancy, and sentenced to thirty days in the Erie Co., N.Y., Penitentiary, on September 9, 1888.

Arrested again at Wilmington, Del., in company of Geo. Devlin, alias Broken-nose George. They were caught in the act of burglarizing a safe. Both were sentenced to six months imprisonment and received twenty lashes each at the whipping-post at Newcastle, Del., on February 9, 1889.

He was heard from again on May 30, 1890, when he was arrested for picking pockets at the Lutheran Cemetery. He escaped from the constable who was taking him to the jail in Long Island City, N.Y. He was captured attempting to cross the ferry at Hunter’s Point. For this offense he was sentenced to four years in Sing Sing Prison, on July 18, 1890, by Judge G. Garretson, County Judge, Queen’s Co., N.Y.

After his release he was employed for awhile at Gloster, N.J., race track. He finally came to grief again at Philadelphia, Pa., for the larceny of a watch. Judge Biddle sent him to the Eastern Penitentiary, for three years, on May 3, 1894.

      Curly Harris first appeared under his preferred alias in 1869, as an associate of Philadelphia gang leader James Haggerty. In 1871, Curly was with a group of other Philly street toughs and participated in the mugging of Hughey Dougherty and the shooting of officer Murphy. Harris didn’t use the gun; that was done by a ruffian named Jim Elliott. Harris faced trial for these events six years later, in 1877, but Dougherty could not identify Harris as one of the muggers; and Murphy could not say if Harris was among those that shot him.

      However, at the time that his friends were arrested for these crimes, Curly certainly feared he would be sent to jail, too; and left town to go to Pittsburgh. However, he might have had an additional reason for leaving Philadelphia: on February 2 1871, the famous Kensington Bank robbery occurred, and several sources suggest Curly Harris was involved. His daring escape from the moving train in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, won him grudging admiration for his courage from law officials and the general public.

      Later that year, Harris was caught during a burglary in upstate New York, and was convicted and sentenced to seven years. The name under which he was imprisoned has not yet been uncovered, but part of his sentence was spent in Auburn and the other part in Sing Sing. He was released after five years.

      He was rearrested in Philadelphia in 1877 on the old charges from 1871, but was acquitted of those after a trial. He was picked up in New York in May, 1880, and delivered to Philadelphia to face a murder charge, as Byrnes relates. Had the victim not been a notorious fellow thief, Harris might have faced a more serious sentence, but as it was, he was given ten years, and was out in eight.

      Curly’s brief stint at gainful employment at the Gloucester (NJ) Race Track may not have been any more commendable than his other activities: Gloucester was one of the shadiest racecourses ever run, and closed just three years after it opened. Curly’s role there was likely as security/house detective, to scare off pickpockets.

      As Byrnes notes, Curly’s last known arrest and imprisonment occurred in 1894, for stealing a watch. He was released from Eastern State Penitentiary in 1896.

      Over the next few years, Curly dropped his alias and resumed life under his given name, William Hague. In 1898, he married a respectable Jewish widow, Elmira Rice, who had three older children from her previous marriage to Aaron Kile Wismer, who belonged to a venerable Jewish family dating back before the American Revolution.

      Byrnes may have intended to point out Hague’s appearance and Jewish origins as a slur; instead, Hague’s Jewish connections proved to be his salvation, even though there is no public evidence that Hague, Elmira Rice, or her Wismer children were active in the faith.

      Hague continued to do security/detective work for a few years, but when older switched to less dangerous jobs, and was still working as a salesman into his seventies. The family moved to from Philadelphia to Atlantic City in the 1910s. Hague died there in 1924 and was buried in Philadelphia.

#48 Edward Fairbrother

~ jpkntz

Edward Fairbrother (18??-????), aka Edward S. West, John Brown, Edward Weston — Boarding house thief

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Fifty-five years old in 1886. Born in England. Physician. A small, nervous man. Speaks very rapidly, Has long, thin, white hair. Hollow cheeks; high, sharp cheek bones. No upper teeth. Large, long nose. Has a fine education, and speaks five languages.
RECORD. Dr. West, the name he is best known by, was arrested in New York City on July 7, 1873, for grand larceny from a boarding-house in 128th Street. The complaint was made by Charles E. Pierce. The Doctor was convicted, and sentenced to two years in State prison on July 14, 1873, by Judge Sutherland, in the Court of General Sessions, New York.
West was arrested again in New York in January, 1880, charged with committing twenty-two robberies inside of seven months. He freely admitted his guilt, and confessed to all of them. The best piece of work he had done, he said, was the robbery of Major Morton’s residence on Fifth Avenue, New York City, where he secured $6,000 worth of diamonds and jewelry, with which he got safely away and pawned for $450. When taken to Major Morton’s residence, however, the people in the house failed to identify him, and went so far as to say that he was not the man who had called there. West told the officers how he robbed Morton’s house and several others. At the time of his arrest he had $20 in his possession. Out of this he gave $13 to a poor man named Kane, from whom he had stolen a coat. A poor servant-girl also came to court. West recognized her, and offered her the last of his money, $7; but she would only take five of it.
West, in speaking of himself at that time, said, “I have not always been a criminal; I have seen better days, far better days than many can boast of, and bright opportunities, too. I had no disposition for crime—in fact, no inclination that way. But time’s whirligig turned me up a criminal; and I fought hard against it, too. I came to this country from England in 1855. I had just then graduated from Corpus Christi College, founded by Bishop Fox, of Winchester. I am an alumnus of Oxford. I took my degree of M.D., and came to this country, and became a practicing physician in New York City. I lived then in Clinton Place. In 1863 I was arrested for malpractice, and was sent to Sing Sing State prison for five years. While in the prison I associated with all kinds of people, and there I learned the art of robbery. After my time was up I returned to New York City, and tried to lead an honest life; but I had learned too much, and was again arrested for larceny, and sent to prison. I got out, and went back again for another term, which ended in June, 1879.”
West was arraigned in the Court of General Sessions in New York City on four indictments for grand larceny, and the District Attorney accepted a plea of guilty on one of them, and Judge Cowing sentenced him to five years in State prison on January 29, 1880. His sentence expired, allowing him full commutation, on August 28, 1883. West’s picture was taken since 1873. He looks much older now.

      Newspaper clippings and the registers of Sing Sing offer many clues to the history of Edward Fairbrother, but these leads are contradictory or not verifiable. He was sent to Sing Sing four times (1873, 1876, 1880, 1885) in each case for larceny, usually for stealing from boarding houses. He consistently stated that he had been born and educated in England and was a physician.
      The birth years he offered ranged from 1823 to 1837. His earliest known jailing, in 1873, was under the name Fairbrother; and in 1885, when arrested as John Brown, he admitted to having a brother George C. Fairbrother living on York St. in Toronto (who cannot be found). That same 1885 prison register indicates he had also been jailed in 1860 and 1871, but those records cannot be found. In 1880, Fairbrother told a judge that he had been jailed for five years in 1863 for malpractice (usually associated with botched abortions); but no newspaper or prison records seem to confirm this.
      In 1880, Fairbrother said that he came to America right after getting his medical degree at Oxford in 1855. However, in 1876, he said that he had been in America less than four years. In 1885, he said he had been born in Ireland and educated at Eton.

      What can be said with surety is that Fairbrother had seen considerable trauma to his body at some point in his past: he was missing all his upper teeth and had an old bullet wound in his right cheek. He also had two gun wound scars on his right leg and one on his left. Even street gang warfare couldn’t have resulted in such damage, so it is likely he had seen action on a battlefield. One article said he had claimed to be an army surgeon. One has to wonder whether the injuries he received had affected him in other, less visible ways.
      Inspector Byrnes seemed to accept the fact that Fairbrother was highly educated, and could speak several languages. During his court appearance in 1880, Fairbrother entertained those in the courtroom with a long, amusing account of his crime, delivered with dramatic flair. When convicted in 1873, Fairbrother had appealed to the judge for mercy, and offered to prove that he was a man of feeling by reciting a poem he had composed in jail:

O Music! gentle Music,
There’s magic in thy swell;
Come where thou wilt, in lady’s bower,
Or in a felon’s cell
etc., etc.

      After patiently listening to many stanzas, the judge was unimpressed, and Fairbrother was sent up the river to Ossining. It was a fate he seemed to find comfortable, and repeated many times over the next dozen years.

#130 Mary Mack

~ jpkntz

Mary Glynn (Abt 1864-19??), aka Mary Mack, Brockey Annie, Annie Mack, Annie Bond, Nellie Scott, Mary Glenn — Shoplifter, pickpocket

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Twenty-five years old in 1886. Born in United States. Married. No trade. Stout build. Height, 5 feet 2 inches. Weight, 150 pounds. Brown hair, hazel eyes, fair complexion. Very heavily pock-marked. Part of first joint of thumb off of right hand.
RECORD. Mary Mack is one of a new gang of women shoplifters and pennyweight workers. She works with Nellie Barns, alias Bond, and Big Grace Daly. They have been traveling all over the Eastern States the last two years, and many a jeweler and dry goods merchant have cause to remember their visits. Mary was arrested in New York City on August 24, 1885, in company of Nellie Barns and Grace Daly, coming out of O’Neill’s dry goods store on Sixth Avenue. A ring was found upon her person, which was identified as having been stolen from the store. For this she was sentenced to six months in the penitentiary on Blackwell’s Island on September 4, 1885.
This woman, although young, is considered very clever, and is well worth knowing. Barns and Daly were discharged in this case. Her picture is an excellent one, taken in August, 1885.

      Mary Glynn of Jersey City, New Jersey was not quite the criminal prodigy that Thomas Byrnes portrayed her to be, though she may have been a harder case than Nellie Barns and Grace Daly, whose arrests can be counted on one hand. Mary Glynn was not in the same league as several of the other female shoplifters profiled by Byrnes. She was active for about 17 years, from 1884-1901, with most of her scrapes occurring in her hometown. She ranged into New York City and Brooklyn (easily accessible via ferry), but wasn’t found elsewhere, except for one apocryphal mention of “Annie Mack” in Buffalo. In fact, without additional notes made by Byrnes in his 1895 edition concerning an 1888 arrest of Glynn, it would be impossible to identify “Mary Mack” at all.
      In 1884, Mary and a younger friend decided to let themselves be romanced by two married Jersey City men. Mary’s friend rolled her date after sharing a room overnight, taking a ring and $12.00. The man swore out a complaint against the girl, who upon hearing this gave the ring to Mary to return to the man. Mary agreed, thus becoming an accomplice to the theft. In the end, Mary was released to her parents, but not before being shamed in public.
      The 1885 arrest of Mary, Nellie Barns, and Grace Daly that Byrnes recounts was so minor that it was never reported in the newspapers; but the register of New York prisoners confirms that “Mary Mack” was sent to Blackwell’s Island Penitentiary on September 4, 1885.
      In May, 1888, Mary was arrested with Maud Flanagan for shoplifting from a dry goods store on Newark Avenue in Jersey City. It was reported that Mary admitted to being a professional thief, but that her companion was innocent. Two months later, in July, Mary and Grace Daly were caught stealing shirts in New York City from a dry goods store.
      Another two months went by before Mary was charged again, this time for solicitation in Jersey City. She was fined $20.00, paid by her mother. By this time, Mary Glynn had garnered celebrity (of a sort) by her appearance in Byrnes’s 1886 edition. In November she was brought up on charges of gross indecency for sharing an apartment with a married hack driver, Archibald Douglass. She was also still to be tried for the May robbery, though the judge–out of mercy for her parents–did not declare the bail they had put up to be forfeit.
      Though Byrnes remarked on Mary’s pock-marked face, in November, 1888, the newspapers instead described her as very handsome and well-dressed. She told the court that, prior to her life as a criminal, she worked for seven years at Lorillard’s tobacco factory in Jersey City, and could live an honest life again, if given the chance. She was sent to the penitentiary for one year.
      Prison did not discourage her habits. In 1891 she lured a railroad switchman, flush with his payday cash, into a Jersey City saloon, where he soon found $50 of his $59 income had disappeared. He accused Mary of picking his pocket, but the court had no evidence to support his claim. Mary was released, and from the court building was seen walking into another nearby saloon with her accuser.


      In April 1893, she was accused of stealing a veil from a Jersey City store, but seems to have escaped the consequences. In August the next year (1894), she was caught red-handed by a New York police detective stealing a silk umbrella from a specialty store. She was given a year at Blackwell’s Island under the name Nellie Scott.
      In July, 1896, she was back to solicitation and grabbed $50 from a man’s pocket before jumping eight feet out a window to escape. She was picked up based on the man’s description.
      In March, 1901, Mary Glynn and a partner, Mary Williams, were arrested for shoplifting from Wolff’s dry goods store on Newark Avenue in Jersey City. As a repeat offender, Mary should have received a stiff sentence, but in May, the presiding judge sentenced her to three months in the County Jail. “Thank you, Judge,” said Mary, as she was led away.
      And so the trail ends for Mary Glynn, though one suspects that was not the end of her bad behavior. In later years, Jersey City’s police force, if they were forced to admit so, would say that they missed her.

#86 John T. Irving

~ jpkntz

John Thompson Irving (Abt. 1835-1922), aka Old Jack, John Irwin, John Thompson, George Mason — Burglar

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Forty-eight years old in 1886. Born in New York. Married. Medium build. Height, 5 feet 4 inches. Weight, about 130 pounds. Gray hair; generally wears a gray mustache. He shows his age on account of his long prison life, but is still capable of doing a good job.
RECORD. “Old Jack,” as he is called, is one of the most celebrated criminals in America. He was born and brought up in the Fourth Ward of New York City, and has, for some offense or other, served time in State prisons from Maine to California.
He created considerable excitement in the early part of 1873, while under arrest for burglary in San Francisco, Cal., by declaring himself the murderer of Benjamin Nathan, who was killed at his residence in Twenty-third Street, New York City, on Friday morning, July 29, 1870. He was brought from California on an indictment charging him with burglarizing the jewelry store of Henry A. Casperfeldt, at No. 206 Chatham Street, on June 1, 1873, and stealing therefrom eighty-seven silver watches, four gold watches, and a number of gold and precious stone rings. Irving and another man rented a room at No. 3 Doyer Street, and forced an entrance into the store from the rear. After his return from California he was confined in the Tombs prison, and while there, on November 22, 1873, he made another statement in which he alleged that he was one of the burglars who robbed Nathan’s house, and offered to tell who it was that killed the banker. The matter was thoroughly investigated by the authorities, who concluded that Irving was only trying to avoid the consequences of the two burglaries he was indicted for. He was therefore placed on trial in the Court of General Sessions, in New York City, on December 8, 1873, and found guilty of the Casperfeldt burglary, and also for another one, committed in the Fifth Ward. He was sentenced to five years on the first charge and two years and six months on the second one, making seven years and six months in all.
Irving, some years ago, was shot while escaping from a bonded warehouse in Brooklyn, N. Y., and believing himself about to die, betrayed his comrades. He recovered from his wounds, and was discharged from custody. After that, in company with others, he attempted to rob Simpson’s pawnshop, in the Bowery, New York City. The burglars hired a suite of rooms in the adjoining house, and drilled through the walls into the vault. The plot was discovered by the police, who, however, were unable to capture them, as the cracksmen were frightened away by a party living in the house.
He was arrested again in New York City on April 26, 1881, under the name of George Mason, in company of another notorious thief named John Jennings, alias Connors, alias “Liverpool Jack,” in the act of robbing the tea store of Gerhard Overhaus. No. 219 Grand Street. They were both committed in $3,000 bail for trial by Justice Wandell. Both pleaded guilty to burglary in the third degree, in the Court of General Sessions, and were sentenced to two years and six months in the penitentiary, on May 10, 1881, by Judge Gildersleeve.
Irving was arrested again in New York City on suspicion of burglary, on April 22, 1886. The complainant failed to identify him, and he was discharged. He is now at large. Irving’s picture resembles him to-day, although taken some fifteen years ago.

      The burglar, John T. Irving, lied about himself too often for his own good. He also suffered somewhat from being confused with two other men far apart on the spectrum of society: John T. Irving, Jr., the nephew of writer Washington Irving and son of Judge John T. Irving, Sr.; and Johnny Irving, a much more celebrated bank robber and member of the Dutch Mob gang. The latter Irving, Johnny, was killed by another crook in Shang Draper’s saloon in 1883, and therefore is only mentioned briefly in Byrnes’ book.


      Byrnes’s account of John T. Irving’s criminal resume is a bit disjointed. In proper order:

  • Around 1864, Irving was arrested for burglary and sent to Sing Sing for five or six years. While there, he wrote the the New York District Attorney and offered information about those involved in the murder of a policeman. Detectives were sent to interview Irving, but it turned out he had no credible information, and the detectives concluded he was fishing for a pardon.
  • In January, 1870, the premises of Barton & Co. on Beekman Street in New York City were burgled of property valued at $1400, mostly cutlery and pistols. The thieves were discovered to be Patrick McDermott, James Clarke, William Pierce, Richard “Dickie” Moore, Charles Carr, and John Thompson [Irving]. Thompson was released for lack of evidence.
  • In May, 1870 he was caught in possession of burglar’s tools, but was again released. Irving later confessed that he and Carr had broken in the premises of Robert Green & Co., pawnbrokers, of the Bowery, on May 18th, but were frustrated by the safe.
  • In July of the same year, 1870, Irving and Charles Carr were arrested for the burglary of a store on Lispenard Street in New York; they were found with the stolen goods in Hoboken, New Jersey. Carr was convicted and sent to prison, while Irving was released on bail, which was forfeited.
  • On January 1, 1871, Irving and his partners attempted to rob the safe of Arbuckle & Co’s coffee and spice mill in Brooklyn. They were caught in the act, and while attempting to flee, Irving was shot in the shoulder.
  • The surgeon couldn’t extract the ball from Irving’s shoulder, and he was not given good odds of survival. Under these circumstances, he gave police the names of his accomplices. For this information, he was kept in a lightly-guarded cell at Raymond Street in Brooklyn. Within four weeks, he reconsidered his position and was able to break out of jail. Most blamed lax security, while the jailers blamed Irving’s visitors.
  • Irving laid low from January, 1871 until June, 1873. On the first on June, the jewelry store of Henry Casperfeld of 206 Chatham Street was robbed of dozens of watches and other jewelry. Fearing arrest, both for this robbery and past ones for which he was wanted, Irving lit out for California.
  • Irving must have taken the new transcontinental railroad, for he arrived in Sacramento on around June 25th. Three weeks on the run, separated from his wife and daughter by 2000 miles, broke Irving’s resolve. He approached a police officer in Sacramento and confessed to the robbery of Casperfeld and also to the May, 1870 Bowery robbery. Sacramento authorities wired New York, but Chief Matsell had no interest in laying out the expense of retrieving Irving, and so told them to cut him loose. Irving tried walking east to Auburn, California, thirty miles from Sacramento, to present the same confession. There, he was held for another couple of weeks, before being cut loose once again.
  • Irving backtracked west, past Sacramento, and arrived in San Francisco in late August, 1873. He signed on as a crew member of the British merchant ship, Coulnakyle, but before the ship left port, Irving went to the San Francisco police and confessed to the July 28, 1870 murder of Jewish financier Benjamin Nathan–a highly publicized murder that had gone unsolved for three years, and carried a reward of $50,000 to whoever captured the murderer. San Francisco police at first thought him insane, and subjected him to questioning by a lunacy panel.
  • At first, Irving confessed to being the murderer, but later changed his story to assert that he was one of three burglars who had entered Nathan’s home, in a plot set up by Nathan’s son and housekeeper. Irving knew many details of the murder–many of which had been publicized years earlier. He also provided a few details that had not been publicized; but also offered many particulars that were demonstrably wrong. New York authorities believed Irving was either trying to get a free ride east or immunity from his past burglaries, or both.
  • Irving also told San Francisco authorities that he was a relative of the great writer, Washington Irving. The claim was easily debunked in New York.
  • Public pressure finally forced Chief Matsell to have Irving brought back to New York, where it some became apparent that he had nothing of substance to offer about the Nathan murder. Irving was tried in November for the Casperfeld robbery and was found guilty. He immediately went to trial for the May, 1870 pawnbroker robbery, and was convicted again. His total sentence was seven and a half years.
  • Not long after his release from prison, Irving was arrested for the robbery of a tea store in late April, 1881. This resulted in Irving’s being sent to the penitentiary for two years.
  • In March, 1884, Irving was caught with three others in Lawrence, Massachusetts, as they were planning a robbery there.
  • He was arrested in New York in 1886 on suspicion, but was released for lack of evidence.
  • Finally, in December he was picked up for the robbery of a grocery store in Long Island City in October, 1888. However, testifying in his defense were Charles Stewart of the School of Industry and J. Ward Childs of the Bowery Mission, a famous refuge in the middle of a depraved neighborhood. They swore that Irving had been sleeping in hallways and begging for bread, and was making a genuine effort to reform.

      Even in 1895, Chief Byrnes was still skeptical that Irving had given up burglary, but his 1888 arrest was his last brush with police. Irving went on to live a long life in Brooklyn and Queens, for many years working as a janitor at the Queens Library.

#56 George F. Affleck

~ jpkntz

George Afflick (Abt 1847-19??), aka Charles W. Affleck, George H. Holt, George Adams, George Davis, George E. Wilson, Kid Affleck, etc. — Confidence man

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Thirty-eight years old in 1886. Stout build. Height, 5 feet 7 inches. Weight, about 150 pounds. Born in United States. Married. Says he is a shoemaker. Dark hair, light blue eyes. Dark, sallow complexion. Wears light-colored mustache. Has a scar on his left cheek.
RECORD. Kid Affleck is a noted confidence man, having been arrested in several Eastern cities. His favorite hunting-ground was along the docks in New York City, where he was arrested several times, plying his vocation. He is also well known in Boston, Mass., and Providence, R.I., where he has worked around the railroad depots and steamboat landings with Plinn White (now dead), Dave Swain, and his old partner, Allen. He has served time in prison in Boston, Philadelphia, and New York, other than what is mentioned below. He cannot be called a first-class man, still he manages to obtain considerable money.
His victims are usually old men. He works generally with Old Man Allen (alias Pop White).
Affleck was arrested in New York City on March 7, 1883, with Old Man Allen, who gave the name of James Adams, charged with robbing an old man named Jesse Williams, at the Broad Street Railroad depot in Philadelphia, of a satchel containing $7,000, on March 5, 1883. Shortly after this robbery Affleck’s wife, Carrie, deposited $1,000 in two New York Savings banks — $500 in each. This was part of the stolen money. He was delivered to the Philadelphia officers, and taken there, where, by an extraordinary turn of luck, he got off with a sentence of eight months in the Eastern Penitentiary on March 30, 1883. Williams, who was robbed by Affleck, recovered about $1,000 of his $7,000, and made his way to South Bend, Ind., his old home, where he died of grief on October 29, 1883, having lost all he had saved for the last twenty years.
Affleck was arrested again in Central Park, New York City, on Sunday, March 21, 1886, and gave the name of George E. Wilson. He was in company of James Morgan, alias Harris, another notorious confidence man. They were charged with swindling Christopher Lieh, of Brush Station, Weld County, Col., out of sixty dollars, by the confidence game. They both pleaded guilty, and were sentenced to two years and six months each in State prison on March 24, 1886, by Judge Gildersleeve, in the Court of General Sessions, New York City.
This clever rogue has been traveling around the country for some time, swindling people, and the community is well rid of him. His picture is a good one, taken in 1883.

      George Afflick’s nickname, “Kid,” was given to him by the men with whom he first worked: Chicago Police detectives. In 1862, at age 14 or 15, Affleck had been recruited from the streets to help the police:


      By 1866, when he was still 18 or 19, the “Kid” was hailed as “Detective George Afflick” and was credited with tracking down burglars and street fighters. Then, in 1867, at age 20, he left Chicago and headed east to New York City.
George got married to a girl from Canada, Carrie Durick, and by 1870 had a son, Charles. The 1870 census listed his vocation as “ticket agent,” but George later admitted that he turned to crime as soon as he left Chicago. George was sharp enough and experienced enough to choose the avenue of crime he could follow, and opted for confidence work, which often targeted the weakness certain men had for greed and arrogance.
      George often worked the passenger terminals of the docks of eastern cities with older, more experienced con artists, like James “Pop” White, Hod Bacon, and the swindler, Plinn White.
      One of George’s big scores was the 1883 theft of a $7000 bag of gold coins from an Indiana farmer, Jesse W. Jennings (who, no one realized, was running from his own legal problems). The story of that incident is related in the entry for James White.
      Though careful, George was outwitted by the New York Police. The New York Times described both the crime and its undoing:

      When arrested and brought to the Central Station, George was interviewed by detectives and asked what his business was. “I steal for a living,” answered George. He was sent to Sing Sing as a consequence of this arrest.
In 1904, after an arrest in Baltimore, Afflick was sent to prison for two years in Maryland. He and a partner had worked the same con as described above. In 1907, he was caught in Brooklyn, once again playing a con game that preyed upon departing ship passengers.

By that time, police detectives were surprised that an old man of 60-years was still up to his old tricks. George had little to lose: his son was grown and earning his own honest living; and his two daughters had died as young adults.

#94 James White

~ jpkntz

AKA James White (181?-????), aka Pop White, Doc Long, James Allen, James Adams, James Dunn, William Wills, Walter Wells, etc. — Pickpocket, grifter, hotel thief

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Seventy years old in 1886. Born in Delaware. Painter by trade. Very slim. Single. Height, 5 feet 8 inches. Weight, about 135 pounds. Gray hair, dark-blue eyes, sallow complexion, very wrinkled face. Looks like a well-to-do farmer.
RECORD. Old Pop White, or “Doc” Long, is the oldest criminal in his line in America. Over one-third of his life has been spent in State prisons and penitentiaries. He has turned his hand to almost everything, from stealing a pair of shoes to fifty thousand dollars. He was well known when younger as a clever bank sneak, hotel man and confidence worker.
He is an old man now, and most of his early companions are dead. He worked along the river fronts of New York and Boston for years, with George, alias “Kid” Affleck (56), and old “Hod” Bacon, and was arrested time and time again. One of their victims, whom they robbed in the Pennsylvania Railroad depot at Philadelphia in 1883 of $7,000, died of grief shortly after.
Old White was discharged from Trenton, N.J., State prison on December 19, 1885, after serving a term for grand larceny. He was arrested again in New York City the day after for stealing a pair of shoes from a store. He pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to five months in the penitentiary on Blackwell’s Island, in the Court of Special Sessions, on December 22, 1885.
Pop White’s picture is a good one, taken in July, 1875.

     Pop White’s real name and origins have been lost, along with most of his criminal history. He was adept at using a variety of aliases, and reticent in speaking with lawyers, detectives, and reporters. The July 1875 photo in Byrnes’s collection can not be linked to an arrest record; the earliest account found about White is an 1878 arrest in Philadelphia as Walter Wells, alias Doc Long. At that time he was already recognized as an old thief.


      As perhaps the oldest criminal listed in Byrnes’ Professional Criminals of America, it may be that Pop White could have told more stories of 19th Century crooks than anyone else; he might have been a fascinating character–but he was tight-lipped, and his crimes were small: stealing from hotel rooms, pickpocketing, small cons, etc. He was a classic grifter. The last misdeed of Pop White was in 1893, when he was arrested in Philadelphia and sent to the county prison for 90 days.

      By far the most notable exploit of Pop White occurred ten years earlier. In March, 1883, there was a robbery of $7000 in gold coins stored in the valise of a man named as Jesse Williams, described by newspapers as a 70-plus-year-old farmer from Orange County, New York, who was traveling south to purchase new farmland. Williams took a train from New York to Philadelphia, and stood by for his connecting train in the gentlemen’s waiting area of Penn Station. There he was approached by two other older gentlemen, who engaged him in conversation; these two were Pop White and his partner, George Affleck. White put down his baggage and steered Williams into the station’s saloon, assuring Williams that his baggage would be safe if he left it next to his. Upon coming out of the bar, Williams discovered that his satchel–containing the gold–was gone, and so was Affleck. Pop White soon vanished, too.

      White and Affleck were tracked to New York, where Byrnes’s detectives arrested Affleck and his wife. The satchel of Williams’ was found in Affleck’s hotel room, but only $1000 was left. Affleck claimed another $1000 had been deposited in banks. White was caught a few months later in Boston, and jailed there. The victim, Jesse Williams, said that the $7000 had been his life’s savings; after lawyer expenses he got back just $940.

      Six months later, eastern newspapers reported that Jesse Williams had died of grief. It seemed to be a clear example of the heavy human cost caused by habitual criminals, and Thomas Byrnes made it the center of his profile of Pop White.

      Little more can be said about the career of Pop White…but it turns out that there was much more to the story of his most notable victim, Jesse Williams.

      In March, 1883, right after the robbery and arrest of Affleck was reported, people in Orange County, New York asked each other if they knew of Jesse Williams, and why he might be carrying around $7000. It was a minor mystery for quite a few days until a Port Jervis (Orange County, NY) newspaper discovered that the man’s full name was Jesse Williams Jennings, who had indeed been born in Monroe, Orange County, but who had moved to a western state over fifty years earlier.

      Jesse W. Jennings had moved to what was then the frontier of America, the state of Indiana. Here is what A History of St Joseph County Indiana wrote about him in 1907:

      Jesse W. Jennings, deceased, was numbered among the earliest pioneers and leading agriculturists of St. Joseph county, whom to know was to esteem and honor. He was a native of the Empire state of New York, born in 1809, the son of James Jennings. In his native commonwealth Jesse W. Jennings learned his trade of shoemaking, and during his early manhood he went to Cleveland, Ohio, where he was married to one of the city’s native daughters, Mary Ann Pearse, her birth occurring in 1811. In 1830 Mr. Jennings came to St. Joseph county, Indiana, entering and taking up his abode on a farm in Clay township. He subsequently returned to Cleveland, but afterward again made his way to St. Joseph county and to Clay township, where he cleared a farm and continued its improvement and cultivation until failing health caused him to remove to South Bend. He later, however, bought the old county farm in Center township, but a short time afterward returned to his old place, there remaining until he became the owner of a farm in Portage township, which now consists of four hundred and fifty acres. At one time his estate consisted of over six hundred acres. His reputation was unassailable in all trade transactions, and by the exercise of industry, sound judgment, energy and perseverance he won a handsome competence, of which he was well deserving. During his later life Mr. Jennings traveled a great deal, and his death occurred in Cleveland, Ohio, but his remains were brought back and buried in the city cemetery of South Bend. He was the father of seven children, four sons and three daughters, but only three of the number grew to years of maturity. Mrs. Lucy Farneman, the fifth child in order of birth, now resides on the farm in Portage township which was formerly the David Ulery farm, and was also the Stover farm. The tract consists of one hundred and fifty acres of rich and fertile land. Mr. Jennings gave his political support to the Democratic party, and had fraternal relations with the Independent Order of Odd Fellows. He enjoyed the confidence of all with whom his dealings brought him in contact, and he was regarded as one of the representative citizens of old St. Joseph county.

      This complimentary biographical sketch, however, glosses over some of the more turbulent aspects of Jesse’s later years. By the late 1870s, Jesse and his wife Mary Ann Pearse were divorced. As part of the settlement, she obtained a large piece of land adjacent to his, which she leased out to tenant farmers. She then remarried to a second husband. Jesse, apparently, believed the terms of his settlement with Mary Ann entitled him to some of the income from the lease, and this gave rise to a dispute both with his former wife and the tenants. Meanwhile, Jesse also was getting tired of living alone with no cook.

      In the spring of 1879, Jesse asked his itinerant farmhand, a 19-year-old youth from Western Pennsylvania, to go back to Pennsylvania and pick out a young woman for him to marry. The young man went, solicited one of his neighbors, and she began a correspondence with Jesse. They traded letters, and Jesse sent his picture (he was 70; she was 20) and proposed to marry her–if she would come to Indiana and he liked her. She refused. Jesse turned elsewhere, and proposed to a female cook working in a local restaurant. She accepted, and Jesse gave her cash to get a wedding dress. But Jesse started to have second thoughts–thinking perhaps it was his money that she wanted–and broke off the engagement. In the fall of 1879, she sued Jesse for breach of promise.

      At about the same time, Jesse’s temper boiled over concerning his wife’s neighboring lease. On December 2, 1879, a barn on that property burnt down to the ground, along with two horses, five cows, and machinery, altogether valued at $2500, but only insured for $1000. It was immediately apparent that the fire was a case of arson. Jesse’s young farmhand was arrested and thrown in jail, where he gave evidence that Jesse himself had started the fire. Officials then arrested Jesse and threw him in jail, too. At that point events spun out of control, and were later written up and printed as far away as Brooklyn:

      Jesse W. Jennings was let out of jail on bond for the arson charge. In a civil action, he was forced to pay $1500 in damages. Nearly a year after these legal troubles, in February, 1881, four brick block buildings in South Bend, co-owned by Jesse, burnt down to the ground, resulting in a loss of $40,000. Jesse was re-arrested in May, 1881 for skipping out on his first bail bond a year earlier. He was able to once again buy his release on a $4000 bond, which people seemed to think he would also skip out on. They were right: in November, this second bond was forfeited. He had wasted $5500 to avoid facing charges.

      Where Jesse was between early 1881 and March, 1883 is not known, but it’s likely that he opted to stay away from Indiana, perhaps permanently, taking his nest egg of gold coins with him.

      And then he met the man known as “the Fagin of America,” the grifter, Pop White. And so, when the victimized Jesse explained events to police, he identified himself as “Jesse Williams” hailing from Orange County, New York–and not as Jesse W. Jennings of St Joseph County, Indiana. Now nearly out of cash, Jesse left Philadelphia with his $940 and went to stay with a nephew in Cleveland, Ohio. Inspector Byrnes and the eastern newspapers said the Jesse died of grief from being victimized. The Cleveland coroner, however, only found indications of heart disease.

      After Pop White’s last jailing in early 1893, he ended his criminal career and retired to a flat in New York City. The Illustrated Police News reported that he lived quietly, and on pleasant days was seen strolling on Sixth Avenue with his small Scotch terrier. He was said to visit his old haunts in the Union Square neighborhood, “…and likes to tell the story of his life to anyone who will listen to it.” Sadly, those stories are lost.

#164 Westley Allen

~ jpkntz

Charles Wesley Allen (1843-189?), aka Wess/Wes Allen, Wesley/Westley Allen, Charles Langley — Pickpocket, Thief

From Byrnes’s text:
DESCRIPTION. Forty-six years old in 1886. Born in New York. Widower. No trade. Slim build. Height, 5 feet 10 inches. Weight, 155 pounds. Right eye gray, left eye out, and replaced at times by a glass one. He sometimes wears green goggles, or only a green patch over the left eye. Dark hair, mixed with gray; sallow complexion. Generally wears a black mustache. Scar on left side of face. Has letters “W.A.,” an anchor, and dots of India ink on left fore-arm.
RECORD. “Wess.” Allen is probably the most notorious criminal in America, and is well known all over the United States. He is a saucy, treacherous fellow, and requires to be watched closely, as he will use a pistol if an opportunity presents itself. Wess.’s brothers are Theodore Allen, well known as “The. Allen,” a saloon keeper in New York, John Allen, a jeweler in New York, Martin Allen, a burglar, now in Sing Sing State prison, sentenced to ten years on November 1, 1883, for burglary in New York City (a house robbery, second offense), and Jesse Allen, a burglar (now dead).
      Wess. has been a thief for many years, but has not served much time in prison. He was arrested in New York City for an attempt to break into a silk house, and sentenced to five years in Sing Sing prison, on July 7, 1873, under the name of Charles W. Allen. Since his release, in 1877, he has been arrested in almost every city in America, but always manages to escape conviction.
      The following are a few of his arrests since 1880: He was arrested in New Haven, Conn., on January 29, 1880, in company of Wm. Brown, alias Burton, and James H. Johnson, at the Elliott House, whither they had followed Parnell and Dillon, the agitators. After a few days’ detention he was discharged. He was discharged from custody at Reading, Pa., on April 14, 1880, where he was detained on five indictments for picking pockets at a fair there in the fall of 1879.
      He was charged with picking the pocket of Thomas Rochford of his watch, on the night of October 29, 1880, near the City Hall in Brooklyn. He proved an alibi, and was acquitted by a jury in the Kings County Court of Sessions in Brooklyn, N.Y., on December 23, 1880.
      He was arrested in New Haven, Conn., on August 30, 1883, for an attempt to pick the pocket of John McDermott on a railroad train. As usual, he was discharged. He was discharged from arrest in the Jefferson Market Police Court, New York City, on July 30, 1884. The complainant, Edward P. Shields, a barkeeper for Theodore Allen, Wess.’s brother, charged him with “jabbing two of his fingers in his left eye.”
      He was arrested again in New York City, after a severe tussle, on September 13, 1885, while attending the funeral of his wife, Amelia, on a warrant issued by Justice Mulholland, of Syracuse, N.Y., charging him with grand larceny. He was delivered to a detective officer, who took him back to Syracuse, where he again escaped his just deserts.
      In November, 1885, two men of gentlemanly appearance called upon an Alleghany City, Pa., tailor named Rice, and were measured for some suits of clothing. “Send them C. O. D. to West Jefferson, Ohio, when they are finished,” they said, and bowed themselves out, after giving their names as Fisher and Grimes. The clothes, valued at $146, were shipped by Adams Express a week later, and the night they arrived in West Jefferson the express office was broken into and the clothing stolen. Fisher proved to be Wess. Allen. He had assumed his father-in-law’s name, Martin Fisher, whose house in New York City was searched by the police, and they found three of the missing suits there and also some silk. Fisher and his wife were taken into custody as receivers of stolen goods, and subsequently discharged. The former is over seventy years old, and the latter only a few years younger. Allen could not be found, as from the latest accounts he had gone to England to try his fortune there. His picture is an excellent one, the best in existence, taken in March, 1880.

      Wes Allen was one of five infamous brothers of the Allen family, noted for their thieving, street gang battles, political thuggery, and vice activities centered in Manhattan’s Eighth and Ninth Wards. His older brothers included Theodore “The” Allen (1834-1908); Jesse “Jess” Allen (1837-1875); Martin Van Buren “Mart” Allen (1841-191?); and John, a saloon operator. Among them, Wes has the distinction of being the only one included in Byrnes’ Professional Criminals of America. Brothers Jess and Mart might have qualified, but Jess died eleven years before Byrnes published his book. Why Mart did not make the cut is a mystery–perhaps he only lacked a photograph–which is unfortunate, since Mart was perhaps the most interesting of the clan.
      For sixty years, members of the Allen family were a constant source of melodrama, bloody violence, infidelity and depravity that entertained the newspaper-reading public and saloon gossipers of Manhattan and Brooklyn. “The” Allen was also a major figure in New York City politics, sporting life and nightlife. The family’s story started conventionally enough, with the marriage of Jesse Allen Sr. and Hannah Louise Cole just before 1830. Jesse Sr. was a cartman by trade. Hannah bore ten children by 1848, seven of who survived childhood.
      In 1848, when the brothers ranged from 5 to 17 (with Wes being the youngest), the family first came to public attention–but not because of any mischief by the sons, who had no arrest records to that point. From the October 26, 1848 edition of the New York Herald:

      Seduction by a Methodist Class Leader
      Much to be regretted, we are called upon too often to expose the wolves in sheep’s clothing, who prowl about in this community, seeking whom they may devour, under the garb of religion, consummating their hellish purposes in seduction and adultery; breaking up the peace and quiet of respectable families, apparently with impunity—all of which is done under the cloak of administering spiritual comfort. One of these wolves we are about to describe; and that the reader may understand the whole case, we shall begin at the beginning and finish off with the last acts by which the guilty parties were discovered and taken to the police station, through the ingenious management of Justice Mountfort, one of our indefatigable magistrates.
      It will be recollected that many months ago, the Independent Methodist Church, situated in 18th street, near the North River, was under the direction of Brother Witney, a Methodist minister, in which meeting house a class was formed of the pious souls of that vicinity; and amongst this congregation was Brother Peter W. Longley, a produce dealer, of No. 78 Courtlandt street. Now, brother Longley was a man of the world, and, although a class-leader, was still susceptible of the many points that constitute the attractions of a pretty woman; such, however, is human nature, and brother Longley, on this point, was no worse than many others who are yet to be discovered.
      In the class of brother Longley was a neat, good-looking little woman, of about 34 years of age, by the name of Hannah Allen, the wife of Jesse Allen, a respectable cartman, residing in West 18th street, by whom she has a family of seven children. Brother Longley was very attentive to all his little flock, in administering to them the spiritual comforts; but more particularly to Mrs. Allen, whom he used to visit during the day, at her residence, sometimes once, sometimes twice, and some days three times, according as the spirit moved him. On these meeting the neighbors would hear them pray and sing together with all the devotion imaginable, until some of the good neighbors began to think that brother Longley was a little too devoted in his attentions.
      This was secretly whispered around by the different ladies in the vicinity, and finally came to the ears of Mr. Allen, who, upon several occasions of coming home in the course of a day, found brother Longley in earnest prayer with his better half. Brother Allen then told brother Longley that he thought his visits were rather too frequent—and that it would be more pleasing to him if he would stay away. This rather dampened the ardor of brother Longley; and the consequence was that out-door visits were resorted to, as they were afterwards frequently seen seated together in earnest conversation in Union square.
      The intercourse was carried on as usual between them in secret meetings, until about two weeks since, when brother Longley concocted a plan whereby they could enjoy each other, without creating so much suspicion. A few months ago, Longley’s wife was the owner in her own right of a new three-story house situated in 26th street, corner of 2d avenue; this, Longley persuaded her to make over to him, which she did, accordingly. Thus far so good, for brother Longley; but not so for Mrs. Longley as two weeks ago she was informed by her husband that her mother, who resides at New Haven, was very sick, and wanted to see her, and was advised by him to go up immediately; and was told at the same time that she might stay two weeks, or as long as she pleased.
Mrs. L started; but on arriving at New Haven, she discovered the story was false—that her mother was not sick. Now that his wife was absent, brother Longley devised a plan whereby to enjoy the worldly comforts of sister Allen; the father of Mrs. Allen was applied to, and the husband (Mr. Allen) represented to be a brute, and that a divorce must be obtained; and while that was pending, brother Longley kindly offered two rooms in his house for the accommodation of sister Allen. This was readily accepted by Mrs. Allen, and sanctioned by the father, who knew Longley to be a member of the church, and a class leader, thus feeling satisfied that his daughter was safe in the hands of such a good and pious man. Therefore, in the absence of Mr. Allen, Mrs. Allen removed some of her best furniture from her husband’s house to the house of Longley, where she was to occupy a room, taking with her likewise one of her children.
      On Mr. Allen coming home from his daily labor, he learned the news that his wife had left, nor could he ascertain her whereabouts. This passed on for near two weeks, when Mrs. Longley returned, a few days earlier than was expected; she thought some trouble would occur on her return, from the fact of her being deceived by her husband in her New Haven trip. Therefore, she went to work with some caution; and as the lower part of Longley’s house is hired out to another family, upon inquiry, some important facts were elicited. Fearful that some tragical scene might occur if she went to the house alone, and to eradicate any such difficulty, she applied to Justice Mountfort, who, upon consultation, sent for Mr. Allen; and a plan was soon devised by the Justice, in order to keep the peace and see that no violence was used towards the person of either party.
      This arranged, a descent was made on the house by Mrs. Longley and Mr. Allen, accompanied by a friend, Mr. Isaac F. Sharp, guarded in the rear by Captain Johnson and Assistant Captain Flandreau, of the Eighteenth ward police. The time was set at eleven o’clock, on Tuesday night last. The house was entered very carefully, so as to not give any alarm. Mr. Allen and Mrs. Longley, the two aggrieved parties, ascended gently upstairs to the room door of brother Longley, Mrs. L. putting her ear to the keyhole, and plainly heard the devoted couple praying together.
      The reader can readily imagine the feelings of the discomforted couple outside the door, at hearing the loving couple within the room. Allen was for going right in, and so was Mrs. L; but recollecting the instructions of the magistrate, which was to listen attentively at the door, until quiet was restored within, then burst in the door, and each one go in for their own; this instruction was most faithfully kept, for no sooner was the light extinguished in the room, than in went the door, and, sure, such a scene was never seen before.
      Mrs. Longley seized her husband’s inexpressibles, and grabbed his pocket book. He jumped out of bed sans culottes, seized his wife around her waist, and such a scene then took place, such a tugging, pulling, and hauling for the breeches, as the reader can more easily imagine than we can possibly describe; she crying out help, murder, murder, &c, making a “slice” of tragical comedy rarely witnessed. Mrs. Allen doubled herself up in bed under the sheets, resembling a mole hill in a meadow. The alarm of murder now brought in the aid of the police, to keep the peace between the enraged parties; which resulted in all being taken to the station house.
      In the morning, Justice Mountfort investigated the case but finding no criminal law touching the charge of adultery, that was abandoned and Mr. Longley was held to bail in the sum of $500, to keep the peace towards his wife, as it appears from her affidavit that he has been in the habit of abusing her, as on one occasion, before she left for New Haven, because she did not clean his boots just to please him he slapped her face, and otherwise misused her. Mr. Allen took his wife home again, and is willing to forget and forgive, if she will only conduct herself better in future. It appears they have been married near twenty years, and have had ten children, seven of which are now living.

      The hoped-for (at least by the Herald) reconciliation between Jesse Allen and Hannah did not occur. Less than two years later, Hannah could be found cohabiting with Peter Longley along with her youngest children, Martin (9), Wes (8), and Hannah (4). In 1851, Hannah sued Jesse for support; by 1855 she had married the now-divorced Longley and had two daughters by him. Martin (14), Wes (13) and Hannah (9) still lived with her and Peter. Similarly, after their divorce, Jesse Allen remarried and fathered four more children with his second wife, Helen Staley.

      By 1860, Hannah and Peter had migrated to Brooklyn. In that year’s census, Peter’s property was valued at $20,000–comparatively wealthy for that time. Martin, now 20, still lived with his mother, but Wes apparently opted to stay behind in Manhattan, where his grandparent’s had sheltered Theodore and Jesse after the breakup of the Allen marriage.
      In that year, 1860, Wes–at age 18, was already described as a well-known pickpocket. Wes’s worse tendencies were interrupted by the Civil War, for which he volunteered in June, 1861. [His older brother “The”, Theodore Allen, also served, but ended the war in a military prison for collecting bounties on ghost recruits]. Wes Allen served ably in New York’s 62nd Infantry, Company G, and was promoted to Corporal in May 1864. He was wounded in October, 1864 during the pivotal Battle of Cedar Creek in Virginia, and lost his left eye. Afterwards he always wore an eye patch or dark green spectacles–a distinctive feature that cramped his occupation as a pickpocket [imitator pickpockets started wearing eye patches and dark glasses]. He was formally mustered out in October, 1865–but had already been roaming his home streets since May 1865 while convalescing at David’s Island military hospital in New Rochelle.
      In May, 1865, Wes was picked up for snatching a man’s watch, but a city alderman appeared just in time to convince the victim not to press charges in return for $100, which the man assented to, but not before a judge learned of the story. Allen was brought up on charges and sentenced to five years in State Prison. He was pardoned by Governor Fenton after just five months, thanks to a bargain struck by his brother “The.” The deal was this: if “The” could carry the 7th and 8th districts of the Eighth Ward for M. O. Roberts as Judge, the Governor would be convinced to issue the pardon. “The” kept his end of the bargain, and his little brother was freed.
      In August, 1868, Wes Allen and a large number of youths loitered outside “The’s” saloon, the St. Bernard House, at the corner of Mercer and Prince streets. They were told to disperse by a patrolman, Officer Crittenden, but instead chose to shower the man with abuse. Crittenden grabbed Wes Allen and signalled four other officers to join him. A nasty fight between the five officers and as many as thirty or forty ruffians broke out, capped by the appearance of Wes’s older brother Jess, who waded in to the fracas waving revolvers. Shots rang out, and the street toughs retreated inside “The’s” saloon, from which they opened fire. About thirty shots were traded, but with no serious injuries. Wes was released the next morning.
      In November 1869, Wes was convicted of burglary in Brooklyn, where his family had no political influence, and sent to Auburn Prison. However, it was election time, and his brother “The” was on the ballot in the Eighth ward:

      Byrnes ends his entry saying that Wes fled to England in 1885. In Byrne’s 1895 edition, he states that Wes died there in prison in June, 1890. Articles appeared in January, 1891, confirming that he was in England, but was on the verge of death. A report from the New York Sun in July, 1891, said that Wes was present in his brother John’s house in Manhattan when “The” was taken there after a near-fatal stabbing. So was Byrnes wrong about Wes’s death? Regardless, Wes was heard from no more.

#176 Mark Shinburn

~ jpkntz

Maximilian Schoenbein (1842-1916), aka Max Shinburn, Mark Shinborn, Henry E. Moebus, etc. — Sneak thief, bank robber

Link to Byrnes’s text on Mark Shinburn

Maximilian Schoenbein, the preeminent bank robber of the 1860s, was born in 1842 to parents Johann Schoenbein and Agnes Keiss of Württemberg, Germany. He arrived in the United States sometime in the mid-1850s, but the date and place of entry is unknown. In later life Schoenbein never mentioned his parents or upbringing. As a young man he supported himself by “sneak thieving” from stores and houses. He posed as a “sporting” man, a devotee of gambling and horse racing.

Schoenbein’s first bank job was the Walpole, N.H. Bank robbery of 1864, assisted by James Cummings. By his own account, Schoenbein attempted eleven bank robberies between 1864 and 1870, and was successful in nine of them. In June, 1870, he married Adelaide Tisserman and sailed for Europe a wealthy man, not to return until 1890.

In 1913, three years before his death, Schoenbein wrote a series of eleven articles for the Sunday Boston Herald, detailing several of his most famous exploits, as well as several capers involving his fellow master thieves, Adam Worth and George Miles White. These articles appeared just weeks after similar articles about old-time crooks penned by Sophie Lyons. However, unlike Lyon’s columns, Schoenbein’s writings were never syndicated to other newspapers, and never collected and republished in book form…
…until now. As a result of the Professional Criminals of America–REVISED project, Schoenbein’s heist stories have been transcribed and published by Wickham House under the title King of Burglars: The Heist Stories of Max Shinburn. Each of the eleven articles is a treat for any fan of stories about old-time crooks.

frontcover3
      In one of his stories, Shinburn alludes briefly to the fact that after his return to the United States in the early 1890s, he spent two years trying to develop an invention. He later (in 1910) secured a patent for this after his release from the New Hampshire State Prison in 1908. The patent was US979325A, for a chambered pneumatic tire for automobiles:

      Shinburn’s attempt to develop this in the early 1890s depleted his funds, resulting in a return to robbery–and re-imprisonment in New York and New Hampshire from 1895 to 1908.

#174 William Wright

~ jpkntz

William Wright (1831-19??), aka Roaring Bill, Charles W. Thompson, Watson — Thief

From Byrnes’s text:

DESCRIPTION. Fifty-three years old in 1886. Born in United States. Single. No trade. Slim build. Height, 5 feet 4 inches. Weight, 130 pounds. Brown hair, turning gray; gray eyes, sallow complexion. Generally wears a mustache, which is quite gray. Scars on right eyebrow, under lower lip, and on chin.

RECORD. “Roaring Bill” is an old New York thief. He has spent the best portion of his life in State prisons and penitentiaries, and is well known in all the principal cities in America. He is a general thief, can turn his hand to almost anything, and is considered a very clever man. He is credited with having served four years for an express-train robbery in Colorado; also, with robbing an Adams Express Co. money-car, out West, of $15,000.

Bill was arrested in Providence, R.I., and sentenced to four years in the Rhode Island State prison on March 21, 1881, for the larceny of a valise containing a sealskin sack and several other things from a railroad train between New York and Providence. His sentence expired on October 25, 1884.

He was arrested again in New York City on August 10, 1885, and committed to Blackwell’s Island for three months, in default of $500 bail, as a suspicious person, by Justice Murray. Wright’s picture is a good one, taken in August, 1885.

      Just before Chief Inspector Byrnes retired from the police force in 1894, a writer for a Buffalo newspaper asked him who were the most capable thieves not then in jail. Byrnes listed eight men: Rufus Minor, Joe Elliott, John Love, Ned Lyons, Gus Kindt, Mike Kurtz, Chauncy Johnson…and William Wright. None of these are surprising, except for Wright. Byrnes added, “Bill was one of the funniest, one of the shrewdest, and one of the most deceitful crooks I ever saw. It’s well-nigh impossible to fasten a crime on him.”

      Wright received the nickname “Roaring Bill” from his loud, boisterous behavior when drunk.

      Wright’s documented criminal history began–as Byrnes wrote–in 1881. However, Wright was already fifty years old by that time. Byrnes hints at some interesting details in Wright’s background, none of which can be confirmed. Still, these fragments are fascinating: Wright had been a cowboy in Texas; he had been in the regular army (but when and where is unknown); and he robbed a train in Colorado and spent four years in State prison in that state. In New York in the 1870s, he had been a member of Jimmy Hope’s gang of bank thieves.

      By comparison, Wright’s crimes from 1881 and forward seem petty. He was caught that year taking a sealskin coat from a passenger on the Fall River line train on its way from Boston to Newport, Rhode Island. He was arrested in New York, but was tried in Rhode Island and sentenced to four years in the State Prison.

      While jailed in Providence, one of Bill’s fellow prisoners did not find him so amusing. That prisoner’s name was James Dunbar, alias Dunmunday, alias Shea. Dunbar was said to have been a former member of the Jesse James gang (a claim yet to be proved). One day in the prison workshop, Dunbar grabbed a hefty hammer and brought it swiftly down on Wright’s head. Bill was saved only by his thick skull. Dunbar was thrown into solitary confinement, and through his own vile temper remained there until he died. Some say he attacked Bill for no reason other than to get transferred to an asylum from which he could escape; others say that he wanted to silence Bill, since Bill was the only one who recognized him as a member of the James gang.

      The more likely scenario is that Bill said or did something to the man to provoke the attack. A different prisoner, who testified a few years later to a committee investigating conditions at the State Prison, claimed that Bill was the worst man he had ever met; and said that Bill–who also worked as a prison hospital orderly–gave the patients indigestible food contrary to doctors’ orders.

      After his release, Bill could be found living at the Rochester House hotel in New York and spending summer days at Coney Island, working the crowds there as a pickpocket, and stealing items from the bathhouses where people changed out of their street clothes. One night in March, 1886, Bill was standing at the bar at the Rochester House when the stakes backer of the boxer George Le Blanche rolled in, despondent that his man had just lost a bout to Jack Dempsey. The backer mistook Bill Wright for a man named Tuthill, the brother of Dempsey’s backer, and thrust $2000 into Wright’s hands to settle accounts to the winner. Bill looked at the money and hesitated. However, he considered Dempsey a friend, and so he gave the money back and directed the man to visit the bar of the Hoffman House, where he knew Dempsey was staying.

      A year later, in February 1887, Wright was in Albany plying his trade, and believed he might find good pickings in the New York State Senate chamber. During a recess in proceedings, he got onto the floor of the chamber and walked away with Senator Jacob Worth’s overcoat. He was caught and charged with grand larceny; Senator Worth insured that Wright was given the maximum sentence: nine years and eleven months at Clinton Prison, Dannemora.

      By 1898, Bill was back in New York, once again working the crowds at Coney Island. However, he was soon arrested again, tried and sentenced to ten years at Sing Sing. Bill was 67 years old when his last term started. He would roar no more.

#178 Joseph Colon

~ jpkntz

Joseph Colon (abt. 1847-19??), aka Joseph Rogers, Edward Burns, Joseph Johnson, James Boyd, Henry Reid, Henry R. Lee, etc. — Thief

From Byrnes’s text:

DESCRIPTION. Thirty-nine years old in 1886. Born in New York. Single. No trade. Slim build. Height, 5 feet 8 inches. Weight, 138 pounds. Brown hair, brown eyes, nose flat and turns up at the end, sandy complexion; sandy mustache or beard, when grown. Has scar on side of head; mole on the left cheek. A woman’s head on right fore-arm, and a star on the right hand in India ink.

RECORD. Joe Colon is a very clever sneak thief and house man. He may be found around boat regattas, fairs, etc., and sometimes works with a woman. Of late he has been doing considerable house work. He travels all over and has been quite successful, as he drops into a town or city, does his work, and takes the next train out of it.

Colon first made the acquaintance of the New York police on October 23, 1877, when he was arrested at the Grand Central Railroad depot, on the arrival of a Boston train, for having in his possession a vest, watch and chain belonging to Elliot Sanford, a broker, in New York, which he had stolen from a sleeping-car. Mr. Sanford, after getting his property back, refused to go to court, and Colon was discharged, after his picture was taken for the Rogues’ Gallery.

Colon was arrested at Troy, N.Y., on August 20, 1884, under the name of Joseph Rogers, for the larceny of a gold watch and chain, the property of George L. French, from a locker in the Laureate Club boat-house during a regatta. He was convicted under Section 508 of the New York Penal Code, and sentenced to one year in the Albany, N.Y., penitentiary, and fined $500, on Saturday, August 30, 1884. He was, however, discharged before his time expired.

He was arrested again in Boston, Mass., on November 11, 1885. Tools for doing house work, consisting of a pallet-knife for opening windows, a screwdriver, soft black hat, rubber shoes, and a one-inch wood-chisel for opening drawers, etc., were found in a satchel he was carrying. His picture was taken, and he was discharged, as no complaint could be obtained against him. Colon’s picture is a good one, taken on November 11, 1885.

      Colon was a very business-like thief: he left towns quickly, and when captured used a variety of common-place aliases. He often worked alone, avoiding the mistakes and disloyalty of others. He was said not to have any of the bad habits that plagued other thieves, i.e. drinking, gambling. Nothing else about his personal life or origins has been found.

      However, more crimes can be attributed to Colon:

  • In December 1890, Colon was caught in Buffalo, New York, stealing a woman’s pocketbook containing $11.00. He was sent to the Erie County Penitentiary for 30 days.
  • In February, 1891, he was caught attempting to steal five pocketbooks from a department store in Chicago.
  • In July 1891, Colon was spotted loitering around the boathouses on Lake Michigan in Milwaukee–one of his favorite targets. He was sentenced to 90 days in the house of correction.
  • Byrnes indicates that Colon was arrested and later jailed on November 18, 1892, for assaulting his wife. A different source says that he was arrested that day as a thief under the name Joseph Johnson. However, newspapers and prison registers can’t confirm either of these. He was however, spotted in a store in Boston on November 7 by detectives, brought him in as a suspicious character, and told him to leave town.
  • Arrested in Cambridge, Massachusetts on June 11, 1895 for larceny from a boathouse. Sentence to the house of correction for two years.
  • Arrested in Philadelphia on December 16, 1898 as Henry Reid for attempted shoplifting. Sentenced to Philadelphia County prison for 18 months.
  • Arrested on October 22, 1900 in Northampton, Massachusetts for a larceny attempt at the Amherst College gymnasium. Sentenced to house of correction for 18 months.