Soapy Smith by Fred Spooner, a review

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Review of Soapy Smith, by Fred Spooner

213 pages.
No index.
No Forward.
No Acknowledgements (understandable as he didn’t use any).
No photographs (except the cover).
No notes.
No Works Referenced.
No sources.

     This is my review of the self-published book, Soapy Smith, published by Fred Spooner in April 2025. In short, this biography, if it can be defined as such, is a travesty to history. Of all the biographies on my great-grandfather, published since 1907, this one is without a doubt, the most poorly researched and written book to date. Besides information and artifacts, I collect books written about Soapy Smith, so I purchased this one by Mr. Spooner. I am not exaggerating when I say it was a tortuous and painful read. 

     Instead of actual information on Soapy Smith, Mr. Spooner chose to use his imagination, filler, and repeated points and information in nearly every single paragraph to stretch the books size to 213 pages, when the legitimate historical information could have been published in a considerably smaller book or article. The book contains no photographs (except on the cover), no listed notes or references, no index and no sources. Mr. Spooner promises “a nuanced, well-researched portrait,” but this promise is never realized, instead defending his “scholarly” (his words) work throughout the book that there is a “lack of detailed records.” The author skirts around having to do any research by instead, inventing events that never occurred. The author couldn’t even be bothered to find out the names of Soapy’s parents, his gang members, or anyone he associated with, except for “Frank Reid,” one of the vigilantes that shot Soapy during the shootout on Juneau wharf in Skagway, Alaska in 1898.
     From this book I must conclude that the author did not investigate, read, or apparently know of the other well-known biographies on Soapy, including my own, Alias Soapy Smith: The Life and Death of a Scoundrel. He either chose not to use, or did not investigate, the known research, letters, documents, etc., that exist, instead writing, “the limitations of primary sources are also evident in their absences. The lack of extensive personal diaries or detailed memoirs written by Smith himself limits our direct access to his thoughts and motivations.” The history of Soapy Smith is out there and relatively easy to find, but Mr. Spooner failed in performing the most rudimentary research. Instead, he guesses and invents his own version of Soapy Smith's history, all-the-while stating that his work is well-researched and scholarly. 
     In the preface, Mr. Spooner states, that “Through meticulous examination of primary sources – newspaper accounts, letters, and legal documents from the era – we strive to present a balanced account of Smith’s life, revealing the man behind the myth.” However, Mr. Spooner does not publish a single source, other than simply stating that he uses “evidence often found in later newspaper articles and accounts from those who knew him in later years.” In order to justify his non-existent research, he chooses to compare Soapy with other historic individuals, writing, “the absence of detailed information necessitates a comparative analysis,” giving him the freedom to invent history, which he calls a "nuanced, well-researched portrait.”
     In the introduction, Mr. Spooner writes that “This biography seeks to move beyond the sensationalized tales and explore the multifaceted (he loves this word, using it many times throughout the book) nature of his existence offering a balanced historical analysis grounded in primary source materials,” but fails to deliver any “historical analysis grounded in primary source materials,” beating every bush to keep from exposing that he performed no actual research.
     By page 5 I knew there was a major problem with Mr. Spooner’s “research” when under the chapter, “Early Life and Family Background,” he writes that Soapy was born in Iowa. Spooner uses no sources for this, defending his work, writing, “while definitive biographical details of his childhood remain scarce …” Which is absolutely untrue. He then wastes the readers time by expanding on Iowa’s history as the source for the history of early Smith family history, Soapy’s upbringing and education. I, and my family, have been researching Soapy's life and death for decades, and nowhere have I ever seen any publication or information stating that Soapy was born in Iowa! Smith family history, via genealogical records and sources, clearly shows that Soapy was born in Coweta, Georgia, and every published work I have in my collection states the same, so I have to wonder where Mr. Spooner found this tripe? I speculate that the author has previous information on Iowa and its history and thus chose that location as the birthplace to simplify his labor in this “well-researched portrait.” In short, he made it up, rendering this part of the book on Soapy's childhood and upbringing absolutely useless.
     Mr. Spooner writes, “the westward migration of Jefferson Randolph 'Soapy' Smith … remains a somewhat hazy journal, shrouded in the same lack of meticulously documented record-keeping …” Again, the author gives excuses for his lack of research, while touting his book as being “grounded in primary source materials.” Furthermore, he writes, “Smith’s travel’s lack the same level of detailed personal accounts … absence of first-hand narratives.” Had Mr. Spooner performed the bare minimum amount of research he would have found that Soapy kept detailed records of his travels, via published letters and personal notebooks, which are seen online and in my book. After spending a little time on Soapy’s fictitious childhood, Mr. Spooner jumps twenty years to 1897-98 and Soapy’s time in Skagway, not mentioning, and probably not knowing that Soapy spent a decade as a crime boss in Denver, Colorado.
     Regarding Soapy’s prize package soap sell racket, Mr. Spooner didn’t know that Soapy wrapped cash into the cakes of soap, instead, writing that Soapy wrapped “merchandise and inferior quality merchandise.”
     Throughout the book Mr. Spooner uses the same excuse of, “there is no sources and information,” allowing him to make up the history. There are so little actual facts in this book that Mr. Spooner could have edited the book down to about ten pages, but opted to stretch the number of pages to 213 pages, via useless fictional filler and the act of repeating his points over and again for about 164 pages, the majority of the book, hence a tortuous and laborious read.

SKAGWAY

     Mr. Spooner incorrectly writes that the steamship Portland brought Soapy to Skagway, but this is inaccurate. I believe he learned that in 1897 the steamship Portland arrived in Seattle, Washington, carrying prospectors and a ton of gold from Alaska, marking the beginning of the Klondike gold rush, and used that to deduce how Soapy arrived in Skagway. He writes that Soapy arrived in Skagway alone, but a little simple research would have shown Mr. Spooner that Soapy arrived with two other gang members, and that they profited almost $30,000 in 19-days work. Not a single source is noted, though he promised said sources. Amazingly, Mr. Spooner makes no mention of Soapy’s saloon, Jeff Smith’s Parlor.
     The author invents a fictional shootout that he says occurred earlier in the day on July 8, 1898, the same day as the shootout in which Soapy was killed by Jesse Murphy and Frank Reid. He writes that this fictional shootout occurs on the corner of Broadway and Third Avenue, where Soapy had planned and held a "peaceful political rally" in which a minor scuffle escalated into a “full-blown gunfight that left several people injured and the streets awash in blood.” There are no mentions or sources, that that this fight ever took place, other than in Mr. Spooner's book. In fact, this is the first time I have ever heard of this event.
     In the section on the shootout on Juneau wharf, Mr. Spooner states that Soapy died, “in Skagway’s streets,” which is completely false, as Soapy died on Juneau wharf. This fact is well-known, and just one more piece of evidence that the author did little to no research. Spooner also invents that numerous people, from "four to eight" were shot and killed or wounded, other than Soapy and Reid, all without any evidence or a single source.

SMITH’S PLACE IN HISTORY AND POPULAR CULTURE

     Mr. Spooner writes, “He never became the subject the subject of a major biographical epic …” Besides my own book, there are numerous other biographies on Soapy. There are also several films, including Clark Gable’s Honky Tonk, centered on Soapy’s life, not to mention several well-done history documentaries. 

REPEAT … AND REPEAT, OVER AND AGAIN.

     The last 164 pages of the book are exhaustingly hard to read as the author chose to repeat the same points, over and over. It became nauseatingly difficult to read, and found myself skipping down pages looking for something, anything, new that Mr. Spooner had to say, but found nothing worth writing about. The author used filler and unrelated topics to stretch out the book size, including such topics as the social fabric of the indigenous populations, the introduction of diseases in society and other health problems, the environment, pollution, water contamination, etc., all having little to nothing to do with Soapy's history, because Mr. Spooner had so little information on Soapy to begin with.
     In the author’s section titled, Suggested Readings and Additional Resources, he writes “This section presents a curated selection of resources, categorized for ease of navigation, to facilitate further exploration,” and then doesn’t include a single resource or example, giving the reason that “a definitive biography remains elusive,” obviously, not putting forth any effort to find, let alone read, any of the other biographies on Soapy.
     In the chapter titled, Famous Con Artists and Their Methods, Mr. Spooner does not discuss other confidence men or their methods, instead choosing to discuss Charles “Black Bart” Boles, a stagecoach robber, not a con artist.
 
ABOUT FRED SPOONER

Mr. Spooner has published at least 56 books, all with the same cover, minus the use of a different photograph. I will assume that all of them lack much effort or research. I cannot find any other information or contact for this author.

CONCLUSION

In short, Mr. Spooner did little to no research, making up much of the history, rendering this book absolutely useless. If you wish to learn about Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Smith, I suggest not wasting your time and money on this book. As a Soapy Smith historian and collector I will keep this book in my collection, but if I was the average reader who happened to purchase and read this book, I would likely just toss this one in the nearest trash container.

Visit the Soapy Smith Soap Box blog

 

"Soapy Smith - cleaning up the West - one pocket at a time"

—unknown

Good and Evil Deeds of Jefferson R. Smith, Denver Evening Post.

GOOD AND EVIL DEEDS OF JEFFERSON RANDOLPH SMITH
Denver Evening Post
July 31, 1898

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OME OF THE GOOD THINGS AS

WELL AS THE BAD WHICH

JEFFERSON RANDOLPH SMITH

DID.

A well-written, even if not 100% accurate, article originally published in the Denver Evening Post on July 31, 1898. Written and published just 23-days after "Soapy's" Demise, the article contains true events of Soapy's empire in Denver, Colorado, but the newspaper author did use some creative license. The article made its way around the newspapers of the US so it is not surprising that in the decades to come, book and article authors used this newspaper piece as a source.

     Below is the transcribed article.

 

SOME OF THE GOOD THINGS AS WELL AS THE BAD

WHICH JEFFERSON RANDOLPH SMITH DID.

     Many people are still talking about Soapy Smith and telling of the good as well as the bad things he did in his lifetime. For “Soapy” did do good things—sometimes.
     The exact date of Smith’s arrival in Denver is not known. Most everybody says “he was here when I came.” Others say “he came here when I was boarding at the old Lincoln hotel, and his first appearance in Denver was in ’76. Regardless of what date he came, it is a well-known fact he was here for a long time. Many know that to their sorrow.
     “Soapy’s” right name was Jefferson Randolph Smith. He got the name of “Soapy” by his ability to sell for $10 small cakes of soap in which was wrapped $1 bills. The police department gave him the name and it stuck to him through life to death.
     When he first came to Denver one of the officers had occasion to walk him to jail for selling soap on the streets without a license. It was different then from what it is now. Then an officer making an arrest walked his prisoner to the jail, put him in a cell and then wrote the prisoner’s name on the police docket. The particular officer first dealing with Smith was John Holland. He could not think of Smith’s first name, so he wrote the word “Soapy” in parenthesis, after “Smith.”
     It was Soapy Smith forever afterwards.
     It was not long until “Soapy” had gained the reputation of being a very shrewd bunco man. To carry on his unlawful vocation successfully it was necessary for him to have men to help him, and it was not long, therefore, until he was surrounded with a crowd who were willing to do almost anything he told them. These men were always talking of what a good man “Soapy” was, and after awhile there got to be hundreds of people who actually believed them.
     Smith was what was termed among the fraternity a “grand-stand player,” and a “double-crosser.” That means that he would rob or bunco some man for $1,000, and then spend $200 on some poor family or church with great display. The “double-cross” comes in against his partners in crime, who on numerous occasions got decidedly the worst of it from him. There is no doubt whatever that Soapy helped many poor families and actually kept them from starving. There is also no doubt that he made many a man poor and the victim’s family suffer.
     “Soapy” had a conscience. Some people doubt this statement, and say it is not true; but it is. His conscience only worked, however, at intervals, while he himself worked all the time. He loved his wife and family as dearly as any man, and he provided well for them, too. Nothing that money could buy was too good for them. He was intelligent, well educated and could talk faster and a little bit louder than anyone with whom he ever conversed. He could pull his revolver and shoot as quickly as any man, and the only thing he feared was a jail.
     He would go into any kind of a free-for-all fight, whether his friends were mixed up or not, and very seldom get worsted. It very seldom happened when Smith was in a fight that all his adversaries got away without some one being shot, and it was never “Soapy,” his last fight being an exception. He was never convicted here of any crime greater than plain assault, but this was due to the fact that he had a “pull” with the city and county officials, as all habitual violators of the law must have to carry on their great work successfully. He committed great offenses, but his “pull” always got him out with a small fine. This “pull” cost him many dollars as the officials bled him nearly as hard as he bled his regular victims.
     As a crook he had no specialty further than to get money. He could “deal the off,” “work a cold deck,” “do the straight big mit,” sell a bogus railroad ticket or simply talk the money out of his victim’s pockets and into his own. He nearly always got the money and that was his sole object.
     Strange as it may seem, though, with all his shrewdness, he was an unlucky gambler, and when he lost he lost heavily. This was the same with his drinking, the former usually following the latter. He sold “gold bricks., mines that were never dug and railroads that were never built. He was king of the bunco men of the West.
     He was like the shoulder blades of Katisha; people came miles to see him. He is dead now and he will be seen no more.
     “Soapy” did not win every time he caught a victim. On one occasion he came out decidedly the worst for it—but he got the money just the same. It was when he was running the Tivoli saloon and gambling house at Seventeenth and Market streets. Some of his co-workers lured a man upstairs to the gambling house. The word soon went out that the victim had money and “Soapy” went to deal faro, as was the rule when fine work was to be done. The victim was a miner who had spent several years in the mountains and was returning to his home in the East. He won a few bets, but began to lose. A well-known Denver man stepped in at this juncture and seeing what was going on, began to play also. But he “coppered” every bet the miner made. That is, whatever card the miner bet on, he bet against. The victim lost, but the citizen won. All kinds of inducements were offered to get the new player to stop, but he shook his head and listened to nothing that was said, declaring that the gambling house was public and his money was as good as any one else’s. It would not do to kick up a row or the victim would “wise up,” quit playing, and in all probability complain to the police. The citizen was allowed to win $1,800, but the victim lost $2,500 and went back to the mines the next day on money borrowed from Smith to make another stake.
     For years when the cold winds of winter were causing people to seek shelter in some building as it blew the snow in great drifts, “Soapy’s” conscience would hurt him. Every Christmas morning when happiness seemed only for the rich, he would buy a barrel of dressed turkeys and stand on the street corner. He would give one of the turkeys to every man who came along that had the appearance of being poor. When one barrel was gone he would get another and would put in the day in this occupation. He made many a home happy by doing this. Last year was the first time he missed giving something to all the poor people he met, and there is little doubt that his absence was noted more than that of any other one man who lived in Denver. Families who had not had a square meal in months got one on Christmas through the kindness of Smith. Yet the money was robbed from other people.
     When it was “day all day in the daytime” at Creede “Soapy” ran the town and made “no night.” He went into the camp during the excitement with a large gang of followers who elected him marshal. They had everything their own way. Anybody he wanted there removed, and those whom he did not want were furnished with a time table of the train leaving the camp and were requested to vacate. They always complied with the request. They were wise men. After a while the better element got a foothold in the camp and then came the fire that wiped out the town. Smith left the camp.
     This was the beginning of the end. He never prospered after that. He came back to Denver and found the Populists in power and a new set of officers to deal with. Although some of the old ones still remained on the force.
     When the city hall war was on Smith took an active part in the bloodless battle. He mustered up a company of sharpshooters, armed with Winchester rifles, but he did not need them. From that on he seemed doomed. Whatever else can be said of the Populist administration, it was the one responsible for breaking up Smith and his gang. He was arrested many times. In fact so often that he got to thinking it was done for the purpose of having him resist arrest so an excuse could be made to kill him. During that administration when “Soapy” had occasion to go to police headquarters he would enter with his hands held as far above his head as he could get them, and the first words he would say were, “Gentlemen, I am unarmed.”
     Smith took more pleasure in “turning” (which means doing the actual bunco) a “gentleman,” than he did any one else. His conception of “gentleman” was a man well dressed and sportively inclined.
     Robert Fitzsimmons, the champion pugilist of the world, knows this well. When Fitz was here the first time, long before he had studied anatomy and discovered the solar plexus, he was picked up by the “Rev.” Joe Bowers, the same man that was with Smith when he was killed. This “pick up” consisted of an introduction that had been arranged for. Bowers was introduced as “Colonel Huntington, general manager of the Southern Pacific railroad, with headquarters in New York.” “Colonel Huntington” said he was out here in his special car on a business trip and would in all probability leave for New York the following night. He invited Fitz and his wife to accompany him on the trip. Fitz wanted to get to New York and he welcomed the invitation gladly. He seemed to reach out for it and take it to his bosom.
     “Colonel Huntington” Suggested a walk, as he did not like the curiosity seekers that followed Fitz to be gazing at him too. They got into a carriage and were driven several blocks as fast as he horses could go, so the crowd could not follow. Then they got out of the carriage and walked down Seventeenth street. “Huntington” was met by a well dressed man who talked “railroad,” and said he had a business transaction to attend to. They all started up to Larimer street. The “colonel” knocked at a door not far from Seventeenth street and a voice said “Come in.” “Soapy” was on the inside but Fitz did not know him and he was introduced as Major Southern. The Colonel and the major talked over “business” and a game of poker was proposed. Fitz had a little over $400 with him and was wearing a diamond in his cravat and a diamond in each of his cuff link buttons.
     The game dragged along for a time. Not much money changing hands and to make it interesting the $25 limit was taken off, leaving the same “open.” There were four men in it—“Major Southern,” “Colonel Huntington,” Fitzsimmons and the man they met on Seventeenth street. A jackpot was going around and had been sweetened until there was $20 in it. “Colonel Huntington” suggested that every one sweeten $10 just for fun and with a “you-can’t-bluff-me” air “Major Southern” said: “We’ll make it $20 more.” The other man, of course, hurried in with his $30, which only left Fitz to be “bull-headed.” He thought of the trip to New York in the “colonel’s” special car and dropped in his $30. This made the pot worth $140—and “Soapy” was dealing.
     “Colonel Huntington” was sitting next to the dealer, next Fitz, and then the man who was playing just to be sociable.” The “colonel” seemed disgusted and passed on the blind without looking at his cards. Fitz opened the pot and the sociable man stayed in. It was worth $140, but Fitz opened it low with an even $100. “Major Southern” looked at his hand and said: “Oh, I’ll stay.” He dropped in his hundred. “Colonel Huntington” picked up his cards with the remark that the pot was worth fighting for and he raised $150, making $250 he put in.
     When he said “fight” Fitz glanced at him, then skinned his cards down and his three tens were still there. He stood the raise. The sociable man said he did not know the game very well, but he guessed he would stay. “Major Southern” passed out. “Colonel Huntington” drew one card. Fitz drew two and the sociable man took one. Fitz caught a pair of sevens with his three tens and pulling all his money from his pocket, bet $150. The sociable man raised the bet $150 and “colonel Huntington” dropped out. Fitz only had a few dollars in change left and he was very much excited. He was about to speak for a showdown when the sociable man suggestively asked him what his diamonds were worth. Fitz replied $300, but he would let them go into the pot for $150 if it was agreeable. It was, of course, and into the pot went the cuff buttons. He was growing more excited every minute and somehow his cravat would not come undone. He grabbed the tie and jerked it from his neck, tearing it in two and threw the whole thing into the pot.
     The sociable man had a king full on fours.
     “Colonel Huntington” had a pressing engagement and hurried Fitz out of the room. He said he had some diamonds in his car that he would give the prize fighter while on the trip to New York.
     The next night Fitz, accompanied by his wife, asked the depot policeman to show them “Colonel Huntington’s” special car, as they were going East with that distinguished gentleman that night. After being assured that there was no special car in the city and had not been, it dawned upon Fitz that he had been against what is commonly known as the “big mit.” His wife had enough money to purchase the tickets for Chicago and they left that night., but not in a special car. Fitz tells this story himself when confidential.
     Parson Tom Uzzell knew “Soapy.” He is glad that he did, for on several occasions Smith helped him out of predicaments that were extremely embarrassing. On one occasion the parson went to Creede to dedicate a tent that had been erected for religious worship. It was thought by many that a church would not be allowed to open its doors, so lawless was that great mining camp, but Smith knew the parson and he was as welcome as the flowers that bloom in the spring.
     The parson arrived in the camp on a Saturday and was met at the depot by “Soapy,” who escorted him to a hotel and introduced him to every man, woman and child in the town. The parson did not retire until late and when shown his room disrobed, and doubling his trousers up placed them beneath his pillow so they would not be stolen. In the pockets of the trousers was $75 in a purse.
     During the night the parson was awakened by a tug at his pillow and opened his eyes just in time to see the form of a man making a hasty exit through the window. He felt for his trousers and found they were gone. He thought there was no use in crying over spilled milk, or lost trousers, so he went to sleep again. He had his breakfast served in his room the next morning, using the bedspread for a napkin. He informed the landlord, through the mediation of the porter, of what had occurred during the night, and the landlord sent up a pair of blue overalls to replace the trousers that had been stolen. The parson searched the pockets, thinking the theft of the night might have been a joke, but he found nothing. He pulled on the overalls and went down into the office where the first man he met was “Soapy.”
     The bunco man welcomed the parson and said he had heard that the reverend gentleman had been robbed during the night. “Soapy” sympathized with the loser of the $75 and the trousers and said: “Parson, I’ve just got a twenty-dollar note with me and I am going to play faro, and win out for you.” He left the place but returned in an hour and handed the parson $120, which he said he had won at bank.
     Others told a different story. They said that “Soapy” had tried to win out for the parson, but lost $800 in doing it. Then he borrowed the $120 from two different men and gave it to Uzzell, at the same time telling him that he had won it at the gaming table.
     The church was dedicated the next day and the parson came back to Denver. The second day after his arrival here he met an old friend on the street and they stopped and began to talk. The old friend had been imbibing freely and told the parson he had heard of the robbery at Creede. He dragged the minister into a saloon, wrote out his check for $25 and insisted on Uzzell taking it. For five consecutive days the parson met this old friend, although he asserts the meetings were accidental, and each time was made to accept a check for $25. This made the parson $170 winner on the robbery and besides, he saved several souls. The day he arrived in Denver from Creede Uzzell found the stolen pocketbook, minus the money, in his upper coat pocket. How it got there is still a mystery that the parson does not try to solve. He carries the purse now.
     There was another occasion when “Soapy” and his gang did the parson and his congregation a good turn. The tabernacle in which Mr. Uzzell was and is yet the pastor was badly in debt. There were two notes to meet and the congregation being poor it looked for a time as though the holders of the notes would take the building. It became noised about among the sporting fraternity that the parson was much distressed. The cause was also known, so a party of gamblers got together and sent quite a sum of money to the preacher, who immediately called a meeting to offer prayers for those who were so kind to him.
     During the meeting the door opened and a boy walked to the pulpit and informed the parson that a gentleman was on the outside and desired very much to see him.
     “Tell him I’ll be there in a minute,” said Mr. Uzzell and the boy left. He returned again shortly and said the business was urgent and the gentleman at the door must see him immediately. The parson went to the door and found “Soapy,” who shook the minister’s hand warmly, at the same time dropping a $10 gold piece into his palm. The parson was introduced to ten gamblers that ”Soapy” brought with him and each gambler dropped a $10 gold piece into his hand as Smith had done. Smith said they had just come down to make a call and inquire how business was and then they left. When the parson went inside with his eleven $10 gold pieces he told his congregation of what had occurred and ordered the prayer meeting continued for two hours longer.
     When “Soapy” did things like these the general public seldom heard of them, but when a bunco trick was turned it was published in all the papers that “Soapy” Smith had caught another sucker.” These two cases wherein Smith aided the parson would never have been known had not Mr. Uzzell told of them himself.
     Smith was accused of being implicated in every confidence game in Denver, which was untrue, as there were others, and they are still here, too. Of course, it was not “Soapy’s” fault that he and his men did not catch all the unsuspecting and get their money, but sometimes they came so fast that he could not handle them all. But he got the blame for it just the same. The police would give it out that “Soapy” had buncoed another man and it would be published that way, and would be believed by every one but the police and some of the inner circle.
     One day during the Populist administration, “Old Yank” Adams, who was known as a friend of Smith’s, went to headquarters to inquire about his pet dog. The dog had been lost and “Yank” thought perhaps the police might know what had become of it. The lieutenant in charge of the office at the time immediately concluded that “yank” was there for the purpose of finding out if some one who had just been buncoed had complained, and that he had not lost the dog at all. So the lieutenant sent for “Soapy,” had him arrested on the charge of “suspicion,” and held him for two hours waiting for some one to come in and complain about him. No one came and Smith was released.
     “Soapy” was not the kind of man that was always trying to get some officer stripped of his authority, as two well-known detectives of St. Louis can testify. He was in St. Louis several years ago and was standing in a saloon when two detectives, who were very much under the influence of liquor, entered. The bartender pointed “Soapy” out to them and said he was a bad man from the West. The detectives wanted to gain some notoriety, and approached Smith, saying: “You are ‘Soapy’ Smith, a gun-fighter from Denver, ain’t you?”
     “Soapy” acknowledged that the detectives were right in their identification, but said he was no fighter. Some words passed, when one of the detectives pulled his revolver from his pocket and struck Smith over the head. The other detective drew his gun, and before “Soapy” could defend himself he was very badly beaten. The detectives sent him to police headquarters on the charge of vagrancy, which charge they trumped up against him to save themselves. “Soapy was so badly hurt that the police surgeon was obliged to dress his wounds.
     While this was being done Chief Harrigan came into the office and inquired how Smith got hurt. The detectives said he had resisted arrest and they were obliged to “trim him up.” By some means the chief found out the true state of affairs and asked “Soapy” to bring charges against the detectives for their cruel treatment.
     “I thought of that,” said “Soapy,” “but I investigated and found that both men have families depending upon them for support and I decided not to do it.”
     The chief insisted, saying that he did not want such men on his force and some one had to make the charges.
     “Well, I’ll never make them, and if I am subpoenaed, I’ll testify that I started the fight,” said “Soapy.” He left town the next day and the detectives are still on the force.
     “Soapy” and Edward Chase, still a very rich resident of Denver, were in partnership at one time and here is where he gained the reputation of being a “double crosser.”
     Smith and Chase did a good business. One day two families of Germans came to town and it did not take an experienced eye to tell their nationality. They stopped at a down town hotel and during the day one of the Chase-Smith men got into conversation with the heads of the families and found out that they had about $8,000. This was quickly reported to “Soapy,” and he began laying plans to get this money. He went to see the Germans and entered into negotiations to sell a mine. The mine was in California, he said, and he had just taken out $6,000 worth of gold. He would sell a half interest of it for $8,000 and would put $5,000 of his own money into a fund along with the $8,000 to be used for development work and to buy machinery. He went to Chase and got the $5,000, and to make the play good he said he would put the money in any man’s hands whom the German’s would name. The only person they knew in this city was the man they had met in the hotel corridor, an accomplice of Smith’s. They seemed to think that this individual was all right and just as Smith had expected they chose him. They all started for California but just after getting over the state line “Soapy” received a bogus telegram telling him to come back, that his wife was dangerously ill. He turned the man that was supposed to have the money over to the Germans and took the next train for Denver. The man gave the Germans the slip at a little station further West and also came back to this city, leaving the Germans practically penniless and in a strange country.
     When Soapy arrived here he immediately dissolved partnership with Chase, kept all the money and gave the other man the ha-ha. This was told on him among the fraternity and from that date he was called a “double crosser.”
     While “Soapy” was in Creede he thought it would be a good plan to find a petrified man, so he had an image made and buried. It was “found” by a miner who was prospecting and “Soapy” purchased it. He put it in a store room and exhibited it, charging 10¢ admission. It was exhibited all over the state until the novelty wore off and then it was stored in a basement.
     Then Smith began selling half interests in this petrified man and made considerable money out of the transactions. He would sell a half interest in this fraud nearly every day. Each purchaser would be intimidated to such an extent that he would gladly abandon all claim and not give the bunco man any trouble. The price of half this fraud ranged from $25 to $250 and it is said that it was sold at least 100 times, but the goods were never delivered, Smith always retaining possession of both halves.
     This petrified man is now in an express office in Seattle, where it is held for charges.

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"The generality of people throughout the world are of the opinion that gamblers are the worst people on the face of the earth. They are wrong, for I tell you there is ten times more rascality among men outside of the class they call gamblers than there is inside of it."

—George Devol

New photograph of "Soapy" Smith?

'SOAPY' SMITH AND TWO COLLEAGUES
Object ID 2017.6.350
Courtesy of Salvation Army Museum of the West

(Click image to enlarge)

New photograph of "Soapy" Smith?
NOT EVEN CLOSE.

 

     A.B. and W., photograph, said to be of Jefferson Randolph "Soapy" Smith, and two colleagues. Soapy is in the middle, marked with an "X." The photo was taken in Alaska, exact location unknown.

     Soapy grew his beard in 1889 after the shootout at the Pocatello, Idaho) train depot. He remained bearded for the remainder of his life. 

 

SOURCE:  

• Salvation Army Museum of the West. 
• Link to the photograph.
  

Visit the Soapy Smith Soap Box blog

 

  

"Cards are war, in disguise of a sport."

—Charles Lamb

Artifact #92: The Girl Alaska and Soapy's son's legal suit correspondence.

First letter sent out
Part 1
From Jefferson Randolph Smith III
To Mr. Ricord Gradwell
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

 

 

First letter sent out
Part 2
From Jefferson Randolph Smith III
To Mr. Ricord Gradwell
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

 

 

 

n a sneering manner and loud enough to be overheard by others, repeated what he had seen on the screen.

 

 

Artifact #92

 

ABOUT THE FILM

Title: The Girl Alaska
Release: August 18, 1919
Producer: World Pictures

     American black and white silent film. Believed to be the first motion picture that portrayed a mention of Soapy on film. The film caused the widow Mary Eva Noonan and Jefferson Randolph Smith III, Soapy's son, a newspaper man and political power in St. Louis, Missouri, personal anguish and supposed loss of respect when the film was viewed in his home town theater. In 1919 the son hired the legal firm of McCarthy, Morris and Sachritz to take up a legal battle of written letters meant to eliminate objectionable parts from the film. Jefferson felt the film had injured his personal and political standing in the community and wished to sue for malicious libel. At first the film company, George Kleine Motion Pictures was willing to cut offensive scenes out but later reneged on the offer. The one copy of the film that exists at the Library of Congress does not appear to be that offensive and may have had the objectionable scenes deleted.

Paul Quinzi saw the film during a visit to the Library of Congress and wrote;

      The film is the story of a girl called Molly McCrea, 'daughter of one of the lost gold seekers of Alaska.' After having been abandoned by her father at a young age, Molly decides to travel to Alaska herself after reading in the newspaper of 'great opportunities for young men in the north.' Disguised by a pair of overalls and a cap, Molly passes herself off as a boy, stows away on a ship and adopts the slightly more masculine name 'Alaska.' On the ship, Alaska meets Phil Hadley, who is also seeking his fortune, and the two 'boys' become best buds.
     The two arrive in Skagway and meet an 'old sourdough' who shows them around the town. They soon hook up with a native who offers to lead them to a good stake. On the way, a huge ice cliff falls on their canoe, killing their guide, leaving Phil and Alaska to their own devices. (No CGI of course; the prelude to the film alludes to the actors 'missing death by a narrow margin' in this scene). They eventually find the stake, but there's no gold to be found. They wander around some more and Phil becomes ill. Alaska saves him by discovering, luckily within a few hundred yards, an old prospector's cabin. Lo and behold, it's the old sourdough from Skagway! He takes them in and offers to let them stay and help work his claim.
     Alaska seems to be slowly falling for Phil, who constantly pines for Lorraine, his sweetie back home, a socialite who writes him occasionally. Of course, thinking Alaska is a dude, Phil is totally oblivious to her feelings. One day Alaska, Phil and the sourdough go into Fairbanks, the nearest town, for supplies. Alaska and Phil go into a saloon, where someone tries to rob Phil at the faro table. A great bar fight ensues, in which Phil is roundly beaten and falls out into the street. Alaska rushes to his side, whispers 'I love you' and kisses the unconscious Phil. Then the sourdough collects them and they make a swift exit from Fairbanks. They continue to work the stake, Phil missing Lorraine, Alaska lamenting her unrequited love for Phil. The old sourdough falls ill, and on his death bed asks Alaska to take his share of the claim back to the States and give it to his little girl, Molly! Alaska removes her cap, revealing her curls, and no sooner are father and daughter reunited than they are separated by death.
     Phil decides it's time to head back home to Lorraine, and leaves his buddy Alaska to work the claim. He is thrown from his sled and is left alone in the wintry wilderness. The next morning, Alaska wakes to the jingling bells of the returning pilotless dogsled, and goes out to save Phil, which she does, although admittedly still bitter about his having left her for Lorraine.
     Spring comes, and one day Phil spies Alaska secretly frolicking by the lake, naked as the day she was born, highlighting the fact that she's a she (no CGI here, either, but shot from far away). Later that day, some prospectors happen by the cabin and leave off some newspapers from the States. Phil picks up one only to read, 'Prominent socialite Lorraine Dower weds New York millionaire.' Next morning, Phil takes Alaska to Fairbanks, ostensibly to file a new claim. Instead, he takes her directly to the chapel (pastored by the Rev. U.R. Blest), whereupon he announces that they want to be married, to which Alaska coyly consents.

Soapy in the film?

      Soapy's son was so offended by the film that he threatened to sue the producer for libel if he did not remove the objectionable scenes. From watching the film it is not clear whether Soapy's son was successful or not.
     The only mention of Soapy is an approximately 15-second scene when Phil and Alaska arrive in Skagway. The entire part plays as follows:
     Slide: The old sourdough takes Alaska and Phil to the grave of the notorious gunman, Soapy Smith.
     Screen: [Shows Soapy's tombstone, circa 1919, tattooed with graffiti] Jefferson R. Smith, died July 8, 1898, aged 38 years.
     Slide: 'This fellow tried to shoot up Skagway. They buried him with his boots on.'
     Of course, it's possible that some original version had a somehow more sinister depiction of Soapy and after being threatened with a lawsuit, the director removed it, leaving only the cut I saw. It may be that not every copy of the film was edited and the Library of Congress has one of the uncorrected versions, or, none of the versions were corrected, and Jefferson Randolph Smith III was not successful in his legal attempt to have the offending portion removed. 

Soapy's son, Jeff sees the film.
The letter campaign and legal suit begins.

     The film is released to theaters on August 18, 1919. One month later, on September 19, 1919 Soapy's son, Jefferson Randolph Smith III, goes to a neighborhood theater in St. Louis, Missouri to watch The Girl Alaska. The following day Jefferson types a letter to Ricord Gradwell. Thankfully, Jefferson made copies of his correspondence so we have both sides of this episode in Jefferson's life. Ricord Gradwell was an employee, possibly some sort of secretary for World Film Corporation.
     Jefferson accuses the company of libeling his father, stating that there was no authority to brand his father "of such character as pictured in this photoplay." Jefferson demands that the libelous reference be cut from all print of the film. He also demands an "immediate explanation on what grounds you are using the sub-titles in which you libel him and what steps you took to investigate the truth of these assertions." Jefferson goes on to explain the damage done to him.

     My attention was drawn to this picture by a former rival in business who accosted me on a street car and in a sneering manner and loud enough to be overheard by others, repeated what he had seen on the screen.
     As you are a business man you immediately can see the harm this picture has already started to do. To thousands of persons in Saint Louis with whom I have had business dealings I am known as Jefferson Smith. To my close friends I am known as Jefferson R. Smith. How many of these people have seen this picture and thus formed an opinion that is injurous to me remains to be seen.

Second letter sent out
From Jefferson Randolph Smith III
To Mr. Ricord Gradwell
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

     Keep in mind that Jefferson's father had been deceased 21 years, and that this was perhaps the first time that he had ever heard someone speak ill of his father, to the world audience of movie goers. His pain is real. He is not seeking money, at first, but rather only seeks a removal of the hurtful words, even if true to modern readers. 

     Jefferson waits two weeks and writes again, on October 6, 1919.

     Two weeks ago I wrote you regarding your film "The Girl Alaska." You have ignored my letter, disregarded my plea and have continued to flaunt in the faces of people, I come in contact with, an untruth and libel.
     There is but one course left for me and that is to ask my attorney to act. I will place this matter in his hands immediately and you will hear from him.

1st reply letter
From William A. Brady
To Jefferson Randolph Smith III
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

     Three days later, October 9, 1919, Jefferson received a letter from William A. Brady, general manager of the World Film Corporation, producers and distributors of motion pictures. Brady referred Jefferson to George Kleine, the producer of, "The Girl Alaska."
     Brady and World Film Corporation did not produce the film, but acted as the distributor. Brady wrote

     We presume that you will hear from Mr. Kleine in due course, and are prepared to carry out any instructions we may receive from him in regard to altering the picture.

2nd reply letter
From George Kleine
To Jefferson R. Smith III
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

     George Kleine of George Kleine Motion Pictures writes Jefferson on October 17, 1919 placing any alleged blame on others and places the burden of proof back on Jefferson. Jefferson realizes that it's time to procure an attorney. He selects the firm of McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz.

 

3rd letter sent out
From McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
To George Kleine
Jeff Smith collection

 (Click image to enlarge)

 

 

     Jefferson's attorney's, McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz, sent George Kleine a letter introducing themselves and their intentions on behalf of Jefferson R. Smith III, on November 4, 1919. The first paragraph is a summary of the correspondence thus far. The second paragraph introduces "... damage repaired insofar as legally possible."

     However, this film is still being shown in this City in its original form and has undoubtedly done great damage to our client's status in this community. As a matter of course, it has caused Mr. Smith and his family considerable annoyance and irritation, and he is insisting on immediate action on our part to the end that the objectionable features of this film may be suppressed and the damage repaired insofar as legally possible.

 

3rd reply letter
Part 1
From George Kleine
To McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
Jeff Smith collection

 (Click image to enlarge)

 

 

 

3rd reply letter
Part 2
From George Kleine
To McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

 

     George Kleine appears to want to resolve the issue in this letter dated November 5, 1919. As we proceed, I can't help wonder something. The film was released to theaters around the country on August 18, 1919. As of this letter it has been 79 days (11 weeks) since the films release. In 1919 how long did films stay in theaters? Could Mr. Kleine have been stalling? If his company could drag this suit out for the entire theater run he would not have to spend the money to edit the film and replace it in every theater showing the film, which no doubt would be at enormous cost. 

 

     We enclose with this copy of a letter to the St. Louis office of the World Film Corporation asking them to show the film to Mr. Smith or his representative, after which we would like him to write us definitely what section he would ask us to eliminate. If it can be done without seriously damaging the continuity of the story, we will meet his wishes entirely in the matter; if the proposed eliminations are too drastic as we will discuss the matter further with you and cut out as much as may be practical.

     We trust that Mr. Smith being a newspaper man is equally considerate of the feelings of the present generation when writing about their ancestors. Our own observation of the practice of the press in general shows no such refinements of feeling.

 

     As a possible stall tactic, or simply the ongoing investigation of justifying their film, George Kleine writes

 

     Since that day we have heard from Mr. Albert I. Smith, present address Beaux Art Features Inc./, #329 Citizen's National Bank Bldg. Los Angeles, Cal., and have written to the World Film Corporation which is distributing the film for us. They were authorized to cut out the title, which seems to be the cause of complaint, if it did not break the continuity of the film.

 

     Interesting to note that in my extensive family tree I have several Ira Albert Smith's but no Albert I. Smith's. Only one Ira Albert Smith fits the time frame, but he never lived in California, living the span of his life in Georgia. This does not mean that the company did not have a family member named "Albert I. Smith." Though not detailed as to why this family member is important, it could be that someone contacted him and he aided the companies film project. 

 

Addendum, 01/16/2022: "Photoplay by Albert I. Smith," meaning that he is not a family member like I assumed, but rather an employee of one of the companies. By "photoplay" they may mean that he is the one who created the photos with the text, the same text that upset Jefferson R. Smith III. "Photoplay" is also a play for theatre that has been filmed as a movie.

 

 

4th reply letter
From (not certain)
To George Kleine, World Film Corp., and Jeff's attorneys.
Jeff Smith collection

 (Click image to enlarge)

 

 

     On November 5, 1919 Jefferson received a copy of a letter from an unknown source, sent out to George Kleine, World Film Corporation and Jeff's attorneys, basically repeating the offer to view the film with Mr. Smith, pin-pointing the offensive portion of the film and deciding if an edit is possible. The letter also adds that 

 

... while we do not believe that he has any legal right to force the elimination of the objectionable part of the film, we have no wish to hurt his feelings or his standing in his community, ...

 

4th letter sent out
Part 1
From McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
To George Kleine
Jeff Smith collection

 (Click image to enlarge)

 

 

 

4th letter sent out
Part 2
From McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
To George Kleine
Jeff Smith collection

 

(Click image to enlarge)

 

 

     On November 8, 1919 Jeff's attorneys (McCarthy, Morris and Zachritzx) wrote to George Kleine about their viewing of the film.

 

     In accordance with yours of the 5th inst., in reference to the above matter, in company with Mr. Smith, I called on Mr. W. G. Carter, local representative of the World Film Corporation, this morning and inspected the film in question. We find that the matter complained of commences with sub-title 40 and ends with last frame of sub-title 77, which has been cut-out of the local films by Mr. Carter, who informed us that he would write you immediately suggesting the elimination of this section from all prints in circulation as well as the negative in your possession.

     While the suggestion of Mr. Carter, if carried out, is satisfactory insofar as the future distribution of this film is concerned, the outstanding fact of this matter is that a very serious injury has been done to our client's reputation in this community, and this suggestion does not take into consideration, the matter of "retraction," published to the same extent as the original libel, to which our client is entitled as a matter of law.

 

The letter describes Missouri's Libel and Slander laws, and adds

     Mr. Smith suggests that your observation regarding the attitude of the press, must be the result of seeing it "through jaundiced eyes .." 

 

Final reply
From George Kleine
To McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

 

     On November 28, 1919 George Kleine writes his final letter regarding this case. He writes

 

     We did not in the remotest degree recognize any legal liability in this matter, and do not now.

     Although it is unwise for a layman to argue a legal question with an attorney, we cannot avoid pointing out in the case which you quote, the repeated use of the word "malicious." We did not and do not now know Mr. Smith, have no cause to like to dislike or injure him, we did not photograph the film, nor did we write the titles. It would stretch the imagination of any fairminded man to write a malicious element into the matter.

     If there are to be legal proceedings in the case, we beg to refer you to Mr. Henry Melville, #45 Cedar Street, New York City.

 

Mr. Melville is likely the attorney for George Kleine and George Kleine Motion Pictures. The use of "malicious" bothers Mr. Kleine greatly. The term is only used in quoting an excerpt from a legal case, "Orchard -vs- Globe-Democrat (240) MO 588 Lc).

 

Final reply
Possibly never sent
From McCarthy, Morris and Zachritz
To George Kleine
Jeff Smith collection

 

(Click image to enlarge)

 

     Jeff's attorneys draft a letter on December 18, 1919. Note that it is in need of editing and has been crossed out with pencil, indicating that it was never completed and sent out. It reads

 

     You will note from the following authorities that but scant comfort can be drawn from the position you have taken that your conduct has not been "malicious."

 

(AUTHORITIES)

 

     However our client does not even concede that you have not been "malicious" even in the sense in which you use that word as to date you have never volunteered to drop the portions of the film complained of, much less to make the retraction to which he is entitled as a matter of law. We have closely investigated the history of this film and while the expense of marshalling our evidence in the form of depositions will be considerable our client is determined to fight this matter to a finish.

     We still feel that our client's rights in this matter are so clear that he would not be compelled to go into Court to enforce them, hence an amicable adjustment would be to the interest of all parties concerned, but if you feel otherwise we will have no alternative but to use force without stint regardless of where the chips may fall.

 

This is the final document in my collection of a letter writing campaign that lasted three month's (September 20, 1919 - December 18, 1919). Highly unlikely the film was still in theaters. Did Jeff decide to drop the case? Were the offending items Jeff complained about (commencing with sub-title 40 and ends with last frame of sub-title 77) ever removed? Does the existing film copy in the Library of Congress contain the items Jeff was trying to have removed, or is the copy an edited version? No evidence of a settlement is known to exist.

 

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"The only sure thing about luck is that it will change."

—Wilson Mizner