Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
they may obtain, they never have anything. It melts out of their hands,
and they would be themselves embarrassed to say what becomes of it.
The president's first necessity, therefore, was to pay out about a
thousand dollars for the jimmies, wedges and all the paraphernalia of
the burglars' industry. This he did. Irving took charge of the money,
and he had far too great an interest in the scheme to suffer the cash to
be squandered. The agreement was that on the following day Conroy should
present himself at the bank to hire a vacant basement, the roof of which
formed the floor of the room where the safes were lodged. The president
undertook to smooth any difficulties in the way of requiring references,
and promised that he should be accepted as a tenant.
This agreement was punctually carried out. Conroy made his application,
the basement was granted to him, the rent paid in advance for the
edification of the clerks, and he at once entered in possession. Hurley
and Shinburne joined him, and the following Saturday they removed so
much of the ceiling that but a few minutes' work was required to
complete a hole which should serve as a doorway to the vaults above when
the bank closed in the evening.
CHAPTER VI.
CHEATED VISIONS AND VANISHED HOPES.
Saturday night was the time chosen to get into the bank, and the
plunderers were to remain there until Sunday. The members of Irving's
ring were to keep watch to prevent any officious interference from
passers-by or from ward policemen. Carriages were to be in waiting at
some convenient place on Sunday morning, and when the men inside
received a signal from their police accomplices on the outside, they
were to leave the bank, abandoning their tools, and carrying away
nothing but the money and the securities they had stolen. So far, the
way was plain; the keys had long before been prepared, tested and found
to work properly; full instructions were given as to the way to use
them, but the way inside was not yet open.
A night watchman was employed on the premises, and he, of course, was to
be got rid of. Little ceremony was to be used in treating him. He was to
be seized, overcome by any means, bound, gagged and rendered helpless
until Monday, and the fact that he always passed Sunday in the bank,
prevented any remark at home upon his continued absence. The details of
the plot were thus satisfactorily settled, and at a late hour the
conspirators separated.
In the early morning of that day the three burglars were standing in the
cellar to which they had lowered their booty, waiting for the signal to
come out. At last it was given, when the precious trio slipped out,
carrying their precious bags. A covered carriage was posted in an
adjoining street, into which the whole party entered, flurried and
excited, and rapidly drove to Irving's residence. There the contents of
the bags were carefully examined. The actual cash was easily disposed
of, but what was to be done with the bonds?
The arrangement finally agreed upon, to be detailed presently, shows
that if there be circumstances in which a little learning is a dangerous
thing, one of them is not just after the perpetration of a gigantic
burglary.
The Monday following its execution confusion and amazement reigned in
the bank. The clerks on their arrival were astounded to find the safe
doors wide open, torn and smashed by the tools which lay scattered over
the floor, and the night watchman, gagged and bound, was discovered,
nearly dead, in a neighboring room. One of the clerks jumped into a cab
and rushed to Police Headquarters in Mulberry street to report the
robbery. Irving was sitting in his office, busy with the night reports,
when the messenger was introduced to tell of the bank's calamity.
The excellent chief listened with breathless attention, and was
naturally horror-struck at the perpetration of such a crime. Calling a
couple of his trusted sleuths, he hastily communicated the surprising
news, and the three hurried with the clerk back to Greenwich street.
Arrived there they minutely examined the premises, and gave it as their
opinion, judging from the style of the work and from the tools which lay
around, that the burglary had been committed by a well-known burglar
named Harry Penrose, and that the night watchman, whom they immediately
placed under arrest, must have been his accomplice.
The president had sent word to the bank that he was unwell, and would
not be able to attend to business that day, but the terrible news was
immediately telegraphed to him, and, in spite of his illness, he hurried
to town. It is impossible to describe his astonishment and distress at
the sight which met his eyes. In the presence of the clerks he held
anxious consultations with the detectives, who assured him that they had
already taken the first steps to unravel the mystery, and that every
possible effort would be made to discover the criminals. In the privacy
of his own office he explained to the reporters that he had left in the
bank four hundred thousand dollars in cash and bonds, every farthing of
which had disappeared.
As soon as the news was published the excitement among the depositors
and the stockholders of the bank was, of course, immense. A run set in,
which the directors by the help of friends and of their own private
resources were able to meet, but the Wall street appreciation of the
calamity was shown in the drop in value of the bank's stock from 130 to
40.
I repeat, a little learning is a dangerous thing. Much knowledge is not
to be looked for among men who engage in such crimes, but one would
fancy that the everyday experience of Irving and his people would have
given them some idea of financial business. The fact is, they were, if
possible, more ignorant than their felonious partners. The financial
ideas of the latter scarcely went further than "making cheap pennyworths
of their plunder, giving to courtesans and living like lords till all be
gone," so that negotiating the sale of bonds was a mystery far too high
for them--something which they could never hope to attain to. But the
company included one man who was a rare exception to the ordinary ride
of such society. This was Max Shinburne, a German, a man of considerable
education, who, in some inexplicable way, had fallen so far from honor
and respectability that when he saw a thief he "consented unto him."
How is it that such men are often found in the ranks of professional
criminals? They would probably have difficulty to explain it themselves.
A want of savoir faire, the fact that they have never been taught to
make a practical use of their acquirements, the pressure of temptation
at a critical moment, the absence, possibly, from harm, leading to the
hope of immunity--all, perhaps, enter into the explanation of the secret
promptings which have led to the first false step, to the first planting
of the feet in the path which leads to destruction. Once the step is
taken, to retrace it seems impossible. The line which society draws, and
which it proclaims no man shall overstep without punishment, may be
approached very closely, but once on the wrong side, once the fateful
step is taken, the act is irretrievable; to attempt to retrace it is to
attempt to undo the past; it is all but impossible.
Thus probably it is that the fall of an educated man is more hopeless
than that of one who knows no better. A carpenter or a blacksmith who
has got himself in a tangle has only to move to another town, and if he
shakes off perverted thoughts and perverted influences, he is not much
worse off than before. He has kept his trade, and his trade will keep
him.
Nobody is going to inquire about a workman who can do his work. The
employer requires nothing more than that the work be done, and if it be
done he neither thinks nor cares anything more about either it or the
worker.
With the educated man the case is different. The sentiments of the class
he belongs to are less yielding, the fineness of his own feelings has
been too deeply wounded, and when he has stabbed his reputation, he is
apt, foolishly, of course, to fling the rest of his respectability after
it.
With qualities and advantages which might have fitted him for a useful
and honorable position in life, Shinburne was at less than 30 years of
age the companion of outcasts. But whatever his moral failings, his
knowledge remained, and it was for him, at least, to be valuable.
To get rid of the bonds in America was impossible, except by sacrificing
them to a stolen goods receiver, who would have given but a small
percentage of their value.
A steamer was to sail for Europe that day, and it was agreed that
Shinburne should go by her, with one of the other robbers as company,
sell the bonds before the news of the robbery could get across the
ocean, then return and fairly divide the proceeds.
This was the arrangement, but Shinburne had already begun to have other
dreams and other ambitions. He saw a chance to restore himself, or, at
least, to snatch at a position which would give him weight to crush down
sinister reports or envious whisperings, and he determined forthwith to
seize it. What the bank president had done to save himself from infamy,
Shinburne would do to recover himself from infamy. It can be, therefore,
easily understood that he accepted without hesitation the other's
proposal.
The steamer did not sail until noon. There was, therefore, plenty of
time to make preparations, and, besides, he had a little private
business to attend to. Leaving the securities in Irving's charge, with a
promise to meet the party at 11, he took his share of the cash and
departed.
Some time before this, with a skill and forethought rarely to be found
in the class he then belonged to, he had bought some building lots near
the park. Fortunate, indeed, the speculation eventually proved to be. In
the mean time, placing his lots in the hands of a responsible agent, and
taking drafts on Europe for his money, he rapidly made the little
preparation he needed, and at 11 joined his party, there to receive
nearly $200,000 in bonds, and to set out with Mike Hurley for the
steamer.
After hurried parting injunctions from the Headquarters men, the two
travelers, accompanied by Conroy, to see them off, were rapidly driven
to the steamer. Punctually to the hour the hawsers were cast off, and
with barely time to say good-bye the cronies parted. A moment after the
screw began to turn, and the Cunarder's bow pointed toward England.
Arrived in Liverpool, the pair proceeded at once to London. Hurley, who
was as ignorant of foreign travel as of everything else, was easily
tricked by some tale of no evening trains for the Continent. Shinburne
plied him well with liquor, taking care to mix the bottles, and when he
had got him helplessly drunk he took the bonds and with his little
luggage slipped quietly off to the Continent, never to see his dupe or
his New York friends again.
He went to Germany, called himself "Count" Shinburne, bought an estate
and began to exercise large hospitality toward his neighbors.
No man on all the length of the Rhine was so popular as he. No man's
house and table, horses and gardens were so praised as his. In the eyes
of the beggar nobles of the Fatherland the man who could give such
dinners and in such succession, must belong to the choice members of the
human race. Day by day Max's position grew more solid. No breath was
ever whispered against him, and with a little prudence he might have
kept up his state and died in the odor of sanctity. But the taste of
grandeur was too sweet, the incense of his little world's flattery too
precious to run the smallest risk of losing it. His display exceeded his