New York, 1895
Minnie Nichols Fined and Imprisoned for Sending Them by Mail.
The trial of Mrs. Minnie E. Nichols of Centre Moriches, who advertised herself as a beautiful young widow with a heart filled with fountains of love and got involved with the government authorities through the alleged use of the mails for swindling purposes, was wound up Monday in the United States court in Brooklyn with a verdict of guilty. George A. Fullin of Ithaca, N. Y., and Edward A. York of Rhode Island, two of Mrs. Nichols' correspondents, joined in the prosecution, and some letters she sent to them were put in evidence. In one of them she addresses the Ithaca man as her "Dearest, Darling Hubbie that is soon to be." In another she says:
"I know that in your breast there beats a very kind, tender, loving heart. Send me money to have my picture taken. Since you have mentioned about another engagement, as proof of your sincerity I desire a stone ring, or small cluster of stones. I want something neat — prefer garnets and pearls, or pearls and sapphires. You ask me if I will love you a little. I will love you to your heart's content if you treat me nice. I have a very clinging nature, whose tendrils of affection would twine around any lovable object. Write soon and remember the ring and picture money, please; also $3 for moving."
Mrs. Nichols' defence was two-fold. In the first place it was contended that she never meant to defraud any one, and that she entered into the amatory correspondence by way of innocent recreation. The second point was that she was legally irresponsible, having once been violently insane, and ever since more or less erratic. Mrs. Nichols herself testified that she had once been drugged and assaulted, and that she afterwards could not control herself.
Judge Brown imposed a sentence of one day's imprisonment and a fine of $100 on the prisoner. The fine was paid and Mrs. Nichols was removed to the jail.
—The Long Island Farmer, Jamaica, NY, March 29, 1895, p. 1.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Swindling Love Letters
Friday, May 2, 2008
He Fools The Confidence Man
1895
How a Guileless Looking Traveling Man Hoodwinks Bunko Steerers.
There is a growing fashion among traveling men to attach to their satchels and valises those well known little straps fastening to the handle of the baggage a small leather tag, into which is slipped a card bearing the owner's name. As a traveler walks along the street carrying his baggage thus tagged it is often easy to read his name by walking a moment at his side and glancing at the tag.
The confidence men and bunko steerers have not been slow to discover that fact, and they not infrequently in this way learn the actual name of their intended victim without the assistance of the usual confederate, whose business it is to learn the victim's name and place of residence.
I have a friend who travels a great deal, but whose appearance of guileless and childlike innocence attracts the bunko man as sugar attracts flies. He has become accustomed to them now. They never dupe him, but their attentions sometimes annoy him.
He drifted into the city again not long ago, and as he laid his satchel upon the hotel desk I was surprised to see that it bore one of the little leather tags containing the card of "Mr. Jabez L. Simonds." Now, Jabez L. Simonds was not my friend's name, and I laughingly said to him: "What's this mean? I'll bet you've swapped baggage on the train and have got some other fellow's satchel."
My friend smiled, winked slyly at the hotel clerk and said mysteriously: "No, I haven't. That's my satchel, but it isn't my name. Come outside with me after awhile, and I'll show you how it works if we have my usual luck."
We went accordingly, and my friend carried the satchel with him. He had his "usual luck," and I saw how "it worked." We had not walked three blocks from the Grand Union hotel when a dapper little fellow came up behind us. I didn't notice that he even glanced at that satchel, but he must have done so, of course. He walked up briskly, as though to pass us; then turning, with a well feigned look of recognition, he held out his hand, effusively greeted my friend as Mr. Simonds, and was starting in on the same old bunko formula when my friend nudged me and interrupted him:
"Glad to see you, Johnnie," he said. "My name isn't Jabez L. Simonds, and I'm not so green as I look. I just keep that tag on my baggage for the sake of chaps of your kind who are so fond of recognizing old friends. Good day, Johnnie. Hope you're not offended."
"I like to to do it," he explained to me as we started back toward the hotel. "It's just a fad of mine." — New York Herald.
Sunday, June 17, 2007
This Swindler Outdoes Fiction
1908
Pittsburg Society Folk Are Victims of Alleged Remarkable Crook
Pittsburg. — A career more extraordinary than half the villains of fiction is charged against Reginald Spauldlng, or Oscar F. Spate, or George Frederick Spate, the man who proposed to introduce Pittsburg people of wealth at the court of St. James in exchange for Pittsburg money.
Pittsburgers who wined and dined Spaulding a few days ago will be horrified when they learn that he is said to have been a convict in South Africa, but they can take some consolation out of another report that he is a son-in-law of Lady Suffield, the woman who, he asserted, would bring about the introductions at the court of St. James. It is charged against the prisoner that he sold his noble wife a "salted" mine and then abandoned her in the interior of South Africa.
The Pittsburg police received a letter from Inspector McCafferty of the New York police department containing a report which one of the New York detectives made on Spaulding. The report follows:
"Spate is the same man whom I met in Cape Town, South Africa, at the Mount Nelson hotel. He advertised there for men to act as agents for the American Trading company. They were to go into the interior of South Africa and collect hides and ivory from the natives, which they were to ship to various points. These agents were required to deposit £100 in money to secure the position.
"He collected the amount from many young men. This was in March, 1903. He was arrested while boarding the steamer Walmer Castle for England. He was convicted and served for two years in the government prison. He was also at Johannesburg, South Africa, and tried to secure a franchise from the park commissioners to put benches in Joubert park, but was refused."
Simultaneously with this report, a communication reached the Pittsburg police from a source which they will not divulge to the effect that Spaulding under the name of George Fredrick Spate in 1902, was married to Muriel, daughter of Lord and Lady Suffield, who left her home in London because of a difference with her parents, and went to South Africa during the Boer war as a Red Cross nurse, in consequence her parents disowned her, and her name was removed from the records of the British nobility.
It is claimed Spate is a younger son of a noble English family.
He secured a subaltern berth in the English army and fought in South Africa during the Boer war.
It was while he was wandering about South Africa that he is alleged to have married the daughter of Lord and Lady Suffield. Spate is alleged to have interested his wife in a diamond mine which he had "salted" and finally sold the mine to her and some others for a large sum.
Before the discovery was made that the mine was "salted," Spate is said to have taken his wife into the interior of Africa, where he deserted her in the land of the Zulu chief, Mosilikaps.
He returned to Johannesburg, where he circulated a story to the effect that his wife had been killed by the natives. Spate then started to organize a new Zulu kingdom, with himself as chief, with the purported object of going into the land of Mosilikaps and avenging the death of his wife. Just about this time, however, the woman appeared at Johannesburg.
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
Swindlers 'Giving to The Poor' Take More Than They Give
Ohio, 1921
OLD GAMES
Prove Good In Relieving Northwestern Ohio Residents of Their Wealth.
That the same tricks swindlers have been using for many decades are still good, was proven this week at Toledo, when George Kostak, fifty-one, was swindled out of $2,400 by two confidence men. Posing as an heir to $1,800, one of the swindlers said his father's will instructed him to give the money to the poor. Ostensibly he placed the money in a tin box with Kostak's cash and then told the victim to hold the box for safekeeping.
After waiting vainly three days for the strangers to re-appear, Kostak opened the box and found nothing but a wad of paper. The victim was first approached by a stranger who said he was seeking his wife who ran away from Lorain. Kostak solicitously accompanied the stranger downtown, where they were joined by a second stranger, who incidentally related the story of inheriting the money. Both men prevailed upon Kostak as a sign of Good faith to withdraw his $2,400 from a bank before they produced the tin box.
—Van Wert Daily Bulletin, Van Wert, Ohio, April 29, 1921, p. 5.