The Passing of Soapy Smith by Cy Warman, 1898.

ewspaper man Cy Warman had a long history of correspondence with Soapy Smith. I have some of Mr. Warman's letters to Soapy in my private collection. He wrote the article below after Soapy was killed. It was published in the San Francisco Call September 4, 1898.
      Cy Warman might be guilty, as many newspaper reporters were, of a little sensationalism for the sake of sales. However, I recognize much of what is written so we should not be too quick to dismiss what is printed here. There are some very interesting questions raised from the content as well.

 

THE PASSING OF "SOAPY" SMITH

Reminiscences of the Notorious Klondike Gambler, Confidence Man and Politician Who Met His Death While Trying to Clean Out a Vigilance Committee That Proved Too Strong for Him.

By Cy Warman.

A thousand burdened burros filled
The narrow, winding, wriggling trail;
A hundred settlers came to build.
Each day, new houses in the vale;
A hundred gamblers came to feed
On the same settlers— that was Creede.

Slanting Annie, Gambling Joe
And “Bad” Bob Ford, "Sapolio.
Or “Soapy” Smith, as he was known,
Ran games peculiarly their own;
For everything was open wide.
And men drank absinthe on the side.

This was the running record of Creed[sic] Camp as set down at the time, A. D. 1892. With a press franchise, a force of printers, a lead pencil and a power press, the writer had gone to the booming camp to establish a morning paper, with a telegraph service, in a town that had been in existence but three short moons and was not yet definitely located on the maps.
      In a little bushless spot by the roadside was a board shanty upon the door of which was tacked a tin beer sign. Inside half a dozen workingmen—laborers or miners they might be—were sitting on wooden benches about the stove. They had been in animated conversation, but hushed it as they noted the entrance of a newcomer. One small man with pale, lusterless hair and cold gray eyes, was recognizable as Tom, the shell man—"Troublesome Tom," they called him, I had seen a carpenter pause at Tom's three-legged stool that day watch the game for a moment, then slowly slide his tool-bag from his shoulder to the ground, put five dollars on the table and pounce upon one of the shells. He lost this five and two more, called the shell man a thief and demanded his money back.
      "Yes." said the man with his cold eyes fixed upon the top of the mountain: "I presume that's what you wanted with my money—to give it back."
      Now the carpenter was pushed aside by a man who could guess. This man was able to win three times out of five.
      Seeing that the game could be beaten a merchant from Denver put down ten, tried again and lost. Crumpling a fifty dollar bill in his left hand the merchant watched the two half shells for a moment and then made a grab. "Turn it over, turn it over," he demanded excitedly, dropping the crumpled bill. Tom turned it over, but there was nothing in it—nothing for the merchant.
      "Why didn't you turn it yo'sef?" said a man with a southern accent and a full black beard; 'that fellow's a shark."
      Now this same man was the Georgia pronunciation came from behind the pine bar and spoke to me. He had no whiskers, but I could swear that this was the man that had helped the merchant play off the hundred.

"Yo' th' a'tist that's goin' to staht the daily papah, eh?"
"Yes," I answered.
'Goin' to make wah on the gamblahs?" asked the dark man.
"Not for gambling."
"What fo' then?"
"Sandbags, six-shooters and masks," was the reply.
"Well she, if that's yo' gait we can gallop in the same heat," said he, enthusiastically, offering me his hand. "My name is Smith—Soapy Smith—an' when yo' in trouble say so an" I'll hep yo'."

That is the way we became acquainted.
      Gambler Joe Simmens [sic], one of Soapy's "workingmen," died suddenly two days before the first issue of the Chronicle, and Soapy gave him a big funeral. Standing at the open grave he opened champagne, pouring some Into the grave and drank some, saying as he did .so, "Here's to Joe's soul over there, if there is any over "there," and passed the bottle to his next friend.
      The description of that funeral which Hartigan wrote for the first issue gave the Chronicle a start and made it welcome at the exchange table before it was two days old. It's a mistake to assume that gamblers do no good. Joe Simmens [sic] helped make the Chronicle.
      One day a man came over from Chalk Creek to burn a lot of money that he had just received for a group of claims. At dusk when he entered the Chronicle office his trousers were stuffed like the trousers of a football player—stuffed with money. His face was flushed and his eyes dancing. He was a miner by profession, a gambler by instinct and a deep drinker. He told Taber frankly that he had expected a reporter would find him out at the hotel, but seeing the paper was shy on enterprise he had come in to give up the news of the Chalk Creek district. He hinted that seeing his name repeated in the paper would help him over at the new camp where he was Mayor, Magistrate, Postmaster and Notary Public. "If that likeness could go on the first page," he said sliding a photograph over to the reporter, "I'd be willing to pay for the cut." He offered to "open wine" for the gang, printers and all, If they would join him at the Albany for a midnight feed.
      In the twilight of the following day he called again. He was not nearly so frisky. The stuffing was gone from his trousers and the twinkle from his eye. Pulling a chair up to the reporter's desk he began to pour out the story of his undoing. Hartigan, seeing a smile beginning to play about the smooth face of the reporter, went over to give Taber an assignment, and Vaughn, the master mechanic (and general manager in the editor's absence), came in from the back room.
      Half an hour later the man went out. "Say," he called back from the door. "You don't need to mention names, but I'll stand by the paper if you give the outfit a good roast."
      Taber had written the heading for the expose in the presence of the Chalk Creeker, and he had cheered and applauded it. When he picked up the paper on the following morning he was delighted to see that it had not been changed or softened:

"CONSPIRACY.

A DEEP LAID PLOT TO DO A MAN OF MONEY.

Business Men to Form a Union to Protect Themselves Against the Sharks."

And there was the miner's "likeness" on the front page, top of the column and right up against pure reading matter.
      The miner had admitted, in the Interview, that he had been in the habit of bucking the tiger at the Orleans Club, kept by one Sapolio Smythe, and that he had dropped several small wads there. Finally, one of his men up at the mines, who used to deal faro at El Paso, said he could beat Soapy's game, but it would take time and money. For five hundred dollars to him in hand paid this Texas man would go down to Creede, get a job dealing at the club, and allow his friend to break the bank.
      It was so simple and easy that the miner, finding himself heeled, gave the Texas man the money, the man got the job (he could deal brace) and down came the tinhorn to tap the till.
      The Texas man was "honest," but Soapy, looking in the mirror, saw the new man fooling with the box and when the game opened had another switched in.
      At first the Chalk Creek man lost heavily, but he cared no more for his money than the Texas man did for his life, and laughed as he unloaded. His roll was half gone before he won a bet. Now he left off joking and began to watch the dealer. In a little while his money was flowing into the till again, and he began to double up. There was "no improvement. The miner hitched a six-shooter around so that the Texas man could see it, and the Texas man's mouth began to twitch. Reaching into a drawer the dealer lifted a revolver and laid it near his right hand.
      "I call you," said he, in a voice soft and low, and without more ado the Chalk Creek man reached for his gun. Instantly Soapy was between them:
      "O gentlemen, gentlemen!" said he. The two men put away their guns, a new dealer took the chair and the game went on.
      Soapy signed to the Texas man to approach the bar: "Here's a hundred for your week's work. Get a drink and a cigar and take the trail to Texas."
      "Why, what's up, Soapy?"
      "Oh, nothing much, only if you're here when that sucker goes broke he'll kill you. He thinks you been robbln’ 'im an' if you haven't you've been crooked with me, an' in that case the rules o' the house make It my duty to put your light out m'self, see?"
      A few minutes later a cigar went burning along the trail that lay by the banks of the Rio Grande. That, in substance, was the story told by the miner, verified by "Sapolio," and printed in the Morning Chronicle.
      Later Soapy went traveling, and favored the writer with some odd and interesting letters. The first came from South America, nearly two years ago, another from Havana and still another from Juneau. I answered that one and asked for the truth about the Klondike, for I could rely upon what Soapy said, and he answered from New Orleans.
      A few weeks later he walked Into the office of a New York magazine in which he had read many of my stories, introduced himself and asked for me. The next news I had of him was from Skaguay, enclosing the following:

NOTICE.

TO THE SKAGUAY MILITARY COMPANY.

Gents—A meeting was called for the 22d, but has been postponed till Tuesday, 

the 29th of March, 1898. All members will be notified where to report. Respectfully,

JEFF R. SMITH. Captain,

JOHN FOLEY, First Lieutenant.

      It seemed to me that this thoughtfulness on the part of a man who had once stood for me at a killing, and offered to do it again, deserved a reply. So I wrote him briefly, concluding:
      "Write me when there is anything that will make a story, and be sure to wire me when they hang you, which will doubtless occur during the coming summer."
      This letter probably never reached him, as no wire came back.
      On the 7th of June a miner lost a bag of gold in "Jeff Smith's Parlors," at Skaguay. The man made a noise about it, the citizens got together. Soapy got drunk and went out to fight them all. Arriving at the place where an indignation meeting was being held, Soapy found five men guarding the entrance. He rapped Frank Reid, the City Engineer, over the head with a rifle. Reid snapped his pistol at Soapy and Soapy shot him in the groin. Standing on one foot Reid put three bullets Into Soapy killing him instantly.
      Soapy must have lived altogether about forty years. He had made many friends and about as many enemies. He got his name, Soapy, because of a quiet little business he used to drive in Denver. He would take a number of square bits of soap, wrap them in soft paper, enclosing in some, (but not in all) five, ten, twenty and fifty dollar bills, then for a sum of money, fixed by himself, he would allow an y man in the audience to guess which of the little packages had money.

      In the poem at the top of the article it is known that Gambling Joe is "Gambler" Joe Simmons, manager of the Orleans Club, Soapy's gambling den and saloon in Creede, Colorado in 1892. Slanting Annie was a Creede prostitute whose only known fame is being buried next to Joe Simmons. "Bad" Bob Ford, the killer of outlaw Jesse James was himself killed in Creede. In the second paragraph of the article there is "Troublesome Tom," a shell and pea operator and member of the Soap Gang, by the name of Tom Cady.
      Thus far the information contained in the story is legitimate and has not been exaggerated. The next section deals with Cy's introduction to Soapy. It is likely that the quoted speech and Soapy's southern slang might be prone to some artistic license, but I bet the main point of Soapy interviewing Cy about his newspapers intentions regarding the gamblers is correct. One of the reasons so many of the Denver gambling fraternity went to Creede in the first place is because Denver was in the throes of a reform movement directed at the saloons and gambling hall.
      With so much of Cy's article being factual we might guess that the story about the Chalk Creek man and the Texas dealer who attempted to cheat Soapy while in his employment, might be partially, if not wholly true. The problem that remains with this story is that Cy claims that it was published in his newspaper, the Creede Chronicle, which he calls, the Morning Chronicle, and as of this date no sample of this issue is known to exist. However, there are numerous issues of Creede newspapers missing in the nations archives. This can easily be understood as the newspaper office burned up with the rest of the business district in the big fire of June 5, 1892. Most of the newspaper copies in the 3 months the paper existed were no doubt destroyed.

      Cy skips ahead a few years and talks about some of the letters he received from Soapy. If Cy's math is correct he received a letter in 1896 when Soapy was apparently down in South America. I believe this may be the only indication, if accurate, that he ever went that far south. Cy then says he received a letter from Soapy in Havana, Cuba. While it is true that twice in the late 1890s Soapy indicated he wished to become militarily involved in Cuban affairs there is no provenance he actually went there. Cy mentions a letter from Juneau, Alaska and it is known that in 1896 Soapy was indeed in Juneau. Soapy sent a reply letter a little later from New Orleans and then had a personal visit from Soapy while in New York, and we know these to be true as well. In Skagway, Soapy received three known letters from Cy (02/16/1897; 09/22/1897; 11/16/1897, Alias Soapy Smith, p. 231), and we know Soapy wrote to Cy in January 1897 from Spokane (Alias Soapy Smith, p. 424).   

 









Cy Warman
June 3, 2010
April 13, 2011
March 27, 2012

Cy Warman: pages 200, 207, 218-19, 226, 229, 231, 234, 394, 424.

"I regard “Soapy” Smith and his crowd as the most interesting set of men with whom the police if Denver have ever dealt. Smith was bright, intelligent, fearless, desperate, and there was nothing he could not do in the way of shell games, dice, cards or sure thing propositions. And, say, he could play havoc with a gun, too! "

—Sam Howe, Denver Police Captain. Denver Post, 11/15/1914

"That Fiend In Hell: A Comprehensive Study"

Logo for the blog
That Fiend In Hell: A Comprehensive Study

(Click image to enlarge)

s some of you may already know, Cathy Spude's book, "That Fiend In Hell:" Soapy Smith in Legend has been published. Originally I had planned to simply do a review of the book, however, after reading it I found that review would not suffice. The book definitely needs to be fully examined and discussed so I decided to create a new blog just for that purpose. This is exciting for me and should be of great interest to the hard-core historian as topics are utilizing most of what is known about Soapy's reign in Skagway, Alaska, which the book centers on.
      As of this post the blog has only 4 entries. The posts are a little slow in coming as I am taking great care in disclosing everything known about the topics. This blog will be continually updated for some time to come as there are a lot of items to discuss. The link is below the logo above. Do let me know what you think. 

 

"The end came quickly; in frontier phrase, he died of “defective vision,” that is, the other fellow with the gun saw him first."

— George Buffum,
Smith of Bear City and Other Frontier Sketches, 1906

Soapy Smith: Flashlight photos of 1898.

Soapy Smith stands at his bar for a photograph
A "flashlight photo"

(Click image to enlarge)

ad an interesting discussion on Facebook a little while back. It centered around the words, "Flashlight Photo" etched into the negative of a photograph showing Soapy Smith standing at the bar in Jeff Smith's Parlor. I never really gave it much thought until a gentleman suggested it was probably the old flash power used by photographers, but I questioned that because of the enormous amount of modern Kodak cameras brought up and used during the Klondike gold rush. Doing a little searching I found that the term flashlight originated along with the invention of the same name. A flashlight is a hand-held portable electric-powered light source. Usually the light source is a small incandescent light bulb.

      Previous to 1896, searching in a dark area, such as a closet or a barn, one had to use a candle or kerosene lantern. Accidents occurred and fires often followed as a result. A safer alternative was needed and that need was answered in 1896 with the invention of the dry cell battery. Unlike its predecessor, the dry cell battery used a paste electrolyte instead of a liquid. This made a battery suitable for portable electrical devices, as it did not spill or break easily and worked in any orientation. One of the first applications for using a dry cell battery was the portable hand-held electric light invented in 1896.

Hand held flashlight
The probable style used to take the night time photos inside Jeff Smith's Parlor
(circa 1896-1899)

Portable electric lights came to be called "flash lights" since they could not give a long steady stream of light. The carbon filament bulbs were inefficient and the batteries were weak, allowing the user to flash the light on for only a few seconds, then release the contact. Very early lights did not have an on/off switch, just a ring or tab that would push against a button or band of metal. The electric lamp was odorless, smokeless, and emitted less heat than combustion-powered lighting. It could be instantly turned on and off, and avoided any fire risk, which was essential in boom towns like Skagway, which were constructed mostly of wood. The problem of inefficient bulbs and weak batteries was resolved in 1898 by Joshua Lionel Cowen, the original owner of the American Eveready Battery Company, but the name "flashlight" stuck, and remains to this day.

Sources
Wikipedia: Flashlight
How Products are made
Flashlight Museum

 

"I have never known just where to pigeon-hole Soapy Smith; a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde he certainly was. Meet him away from home, and what do we find,—a bunco-steerer, a tinhorn gambler, when not a proprietor where brace games were dealt, the associate of desperate ruffians, a professional bad man of the border and an adept in all lines and ways of winning the money of the unwary through nefarious schemes and devices; in short, he was a leader in the flagrant lawlessness which marked the frontier days. He had the reputation of being afraid of neither man nor devil. No one was ever more ready to draw his gun and fight to the death; death mattered little to him if while he lived none dared to dispute his courage and his readiness to do, dare and die."

—George Buffum,
Smith of Bear City and Other Frontier Sketches, 1906

What Are the Odds of Drawing That Card?

(Click image to enlarge)

uited Science: What Are the Odds of Drawing That Card?






Family member Christina Kelley "Tina" Marshall sent in the following card manipulation information from Scientific American. Tina writes,

This is probably what Soapy did. He was ahead of his time AND he did it in his head. :)

Suited Science: What Are the Odds of Drawing That Card?

Introduction

Have you ever been playing cards and wished you could use psychic powers to draw the card you wanted? You may not be psychic, but you can still have the power of probability on your side. In this activity you'll investigate the probabilities of drawing specific types of cards from a deck. You'll discover how math can help you avoid the dreaded phrase, "Go fish!"

Background

When you draw a card from a deck, you have a certain chance of getting a specific type of card, such as a spade or face card, or one particular card, such as the queen of hearts. Consider the game "Go Fish" with a regular card deck. The goal is to get the most four-of-a-kind sets by asking your opponent for matching cards or by drawing them from the deck. To win, you can rely on chance or you can increase your probability of getting matching cards, but how?

      By understanding how chance is related to math, you can play with a winning strategy. For example, if you have three kings and one queen in your hand and it's your turn to ask for a card, which one should you ask your opponent for? You might think you should ask for a king, but it's actually better to take a queen! Why? Because you have a better chance of getting it. There are four kings and four queens in the deck, and with three kings and one queen in your hand, there's one king and three queens left. This gives you only one chance to get a king, but three chances to get a queen out of the remaining cards.

Materials

• Standard deck of playing cards

• Piece of paper

• Pencil or pen

• Calculator

Preparation

• Count the cards in the deck and make sure it is complete. (There should be 54 cards total.) Take out the two jokers. Shuffle the deck three times and set aside.

• Pick four types of cards to investigate, such as a color, suit, number or face card, and a specific one. For example, you could investigate red cards, spades, kings and the queen of hearts.

• Draw a table to in which to record your data. Make a column for each card type you'll investigate. In the first row write how many of that type of card are in the deck. For example, there are 26 red cards in a deck, 13 spades, four kings and one queen of hearts. Make 10 rows below this one for the 10 trials you will be doing.

Procedure

• Decide which type of card you will investigate first. Draw cards from the top of the deck and flip them over one at a time, counting as you go, and stop when you see that type of card. How many cards did you draw until you reached that card? Write down the answer in your table.

• Shuffle the deck again and repeat this process, flipping over the cards and looking for the same type of card. How many cards did it take this time? Write down the answer in your table. Repeat this for a total of 10 times for one type of card.

• Repeat this process for each of the four types of cards you picked to investigate. This means that you will have looked for each type of card a total of 10 times.

• Calculate the average number of cards you drew to reach each type of card. Label the last row in your table "Averages" and write them in this row.

• Which types of cards were the easiest to draw? Which were the most difficult? How do you think the chances of drawing a card relate to the total number of that card type in the deck?

• Based on what you saw in this activity, how do you think probability can help you choose the right strategy in a card game?

• Extra: A more advanced way of showing the results of your experiment would be to make histograms, which are a type of graph to show distributions. Try making a separate histogram for each type of card you tested by graphing the number of cards drawn for each trial separately in a bar graph. When all of the bars are lined up next to each other, what does the overall shape of the distribution look like?

• Extra: The probability of drawing a particular type of card also depends on the number of cards drawn each time. Try doing this activity again but draw samples of three, five or seven cards at a time. Do your chances improve as more cards are taken?

• Extra: Probabilities can change your strategies for playing a card game. Can you design an experiment to show how probabilities can help you choose cards and win "Go Fish"? What about other popular card games? Can you invent your own game based on probabilities?

Observations and results

Did it take fewer draws to reach a certain color than it took to reach a certain suit or kind of card? Did it take even more draws to reach a specific card?

      Mathematicians measure probability by counting and using some very basic math, like addition and division. For example, you can add up the number of spades in a complete deck (13) and divide this by the total number of cards in the deck (52) to get the probability of randomly drawing a spade: 13 in 52, or 25 percent. If you were investigating red cards, kings or the queen of hearts, the odds of randomly drawing one of these from a complete deck are 50 percent (26 in 52); about 7.7 percent (four in 52); or about 1.9 percent (one in 52), respectively. This is why, on average (when done over enough trials), it is easier to draw a red card than a spade, a spade than a king, and a king than the queen of hearts. As you draw cards from a deck, the odds of finding your card change. For example, if you are looking for a spade and do not get it on your first draw, there are still 13 spades in the deck but the deck now holds only 51 cards, so your odds of drawing a spade on the second draw are 13 in 51, or about 25.5 percent. This may not seem like much of an improvement, but with every draw the odds continue to increase.

 

"Well, chief, I acknowledge you have brought me to a stand still. Hereafter I will do the square thing."

—– Rocky Mountain News July 17, 1894.

Soapy Smith and the act of caning

Soapy Smith canes Colonel John Arkins

n the evening of July 29, 1898 in Denver, Soapy Smith retaliated against the Rocky Mountain News for a published blurb about his wife and children. With cane in hand and Soap Gang member, Ned Parker, alias "Banjo," in tow, he made his way over to the Patterson and Thomas Block where the offices of the News were located. His exact plans are unknown but the person he was looking to see was Colonel John Arkins, the general manager of the newspaper. For eight days, ever since the trouble at Logan Park (see Alias Soapy Smith, pages 140-147), the News had been attacking and exposing Soapy and his activities. The mention of his family in an article on the eighth day was the proverbial straw that broke the camels back, and Soapy lost his composure. He waited for Arkin to appear on the street and when he did, Soapy attacked. The following comes from my book.

SOAPY THE ASSASSIN 

      Last night at ten minutes to 9 o’clock Jeff R. Smith attempted to murder Colonel John Arkins, president of the News Printing Company and manager of this paper. Never did ruffian commit a more utterly brutal deed.
      Colonel Arkins had just left his office and was about to call a carriage. The streets were crowded with people and the electric lights shone brilliantly. Streetcars were passing, and ladies chatted as they walked along. It did not look like a favorable spot in which to commit a black crime.
      In the shadow of a great doorway crouched the form of a being with murder in his heart. At his right hand and left were others come to see the murder done.

      In its reporting, the News was mistaken in a number of particulars and exaggerated others. Reported was that Jeff carried a heavy black cane, but the cane placed on exhibit during the trial was described as a light, wooden walking cane. The News account had the editor leaving, but Arkins testified that he was arriving at the office. The News reported “others” with Jeff, but witnesses stated that only Ned “Banjo” Parker accompanied Jeff that night.
      Arkins stated that when he arrived, he saw Parker but not Jeff as his form was blocked by Parker’s. When Arkins was about ten feet away, Jeff stepped out and said, “Oh, John!” Arkins glanced over his shoulder. Jeff threw up his left hand as though to shove him back, and with his cane in his right hand, according to witnesses, struck Arkins once over the head and knocked him to the sidewalk. While he was down, Jeff kicked him twice and struck him two or three more times with the cane. Witnesses claimed Jeff stooped over Arkins and felt his hip pocket, as if to discover a gun there, but no such claim was made at trial. Afterward, Jeff turned and walked rapidly to the corner and disappeared down Curtis street. Parker, who was between Jeff and witnesses with a cane of his own raised to prevent interference, quickly walked off in the opposite direction.

It has always interested me that armed with just a cane, and using his feet to kick, that Soapy seriously injured Arkins. So much so, to be initially charged with attempted murder. The question I always wondered about, why a cane? In responding to a another post on a Tombstone forum, Dr. Gary Roberts, author of Doc Holliday: The Life and Legend (2006), gave me a clue. He wrote,

On the other hand, in the Old South, caning was an act of contempt reserved for men who were socially beneath you. Gentlemen didn't cane gentlemen. By that code—and Doc knew it well—caning a man meant that he considered the victim to be inferior, not a gentleman.

      A classic example of the use of caning as an act of disdain for the victim was, of course, South Carolina Congressman Preston Brooks' caning of Massachusetts Senator Charles Sumner in May 1856. Senator Sumner had delivered his "Crime Against Kansas" speech in which he attacked the "slave power" of the South. In the speech, he singled out Senator Andrew Butler of South Carolina in vitriolic terms. Brooks was Butler's nephew. Brooks, who was considered to be mild-mannered by most who knew him, caught Sumner at his desk in the Senate chamber. He addressed him, saying something like, "Sir, you have insulted my family and the sovereign state of South Carolina, and I am here to punish you!" Note that last part: "I am here to PUNISH you."

      Brooks did not challenge Sumner as he would have someone he perceived to be a gentleman. He did not go there to kill him. He chose instead to punish him which was reserved for men without honor or station (in Brooks' mind, at least). The beating kept Sumner out of the Senate from May 22, 1856, until December, 1859. The act was condemned as brutal proof of Southern depravity across the North, but Brooks received what one source called "a box car load of canes" from well-wishers across the South, many of the canes with notes attached with instructions to use them on a variety of Northern senators and representatives.

 








Colonel John Arkins
January 17, 2009 

Colonel John Arkins: pages 88, 134, 143-145, 147-54, 158, 160, 230, 240, 292, 371, 529, 578.

"He was a character the like of which will probably never be seen again in the history of the country. He left a few friends who will regret his death, but the majority of people who knew him were relieved when they heard that he had been killed. The evil which he did will live a long time after him, and his bunco record will be a monument which will last all ages."

—Rocky Mountain News article
Alias Soapy Smith, p. 582.

Wyatt Earp's Vendetta Posse Rider: The Story of Texas Jack Vermillion by Peter Brand

yatt Earp’s Vendetta Posse Rider: 
The Story of Texas Jack Vermillion

      Fans of Soapy Smith and my book may recognize the name Vermillion. He was a member of the Soap Gang 1888-89 and was involved in a few key adventures with Soapy, including the attack on the offices of the Glasson Detective Agency in Denver, and the 1889 shootout at the Pocatello train station. In January 2011 Linda Wildman, a member of the Vermillion family, contacted me and started sharing some of her family history and photographs. With her permission I posted the information and photographs, but what neither of us knew, was that author Peter Brand was already working with other members of the family for a book he wanted to publish on "Texas Jack." This was causing a lot of turmoil  for Linda so naturally I immediately removed the post. Nineteen months later I can now announce that Brand's book is published and for sale.Below is my review of the book.

Author: Peter Brand
Paperback: 152 pages
Illustrated: 67 historic photographs
Publisher: Unknown
Date published: 2012
Language: English
ISBN- 978-0-578-10612-0
Retail price: $25.00
Purchase here:

      I am absolutely enamored by author Peter Brand’s new book, Wyatt Earp’s Vendetta Posse Rider: The Story of Texas Jack Vermillion. This is the first complete and authentic historical biography of the man known as “Texas Jack,” and later as “Shoot-Your-Eye-Out-Jack.” Mr. Brand brings new respect to the Vermillion story, and it will most undoubtedly remain the primary chronicle of John Oberland Vermillion for decades to come. Mr. Brand can be proud of his accomplishment in admirably propelling “Texas Jack” up the ladder of historical fame and giving him his own place in history. Whether you’re a fan of the old west, Wyatt Earp, or Soapy Smith, you will find Mr. Brand’s book a very engaging and valuable edition to your book collection. I highly recommend it.

      For many decades “Texas Jack” Vermillion has been a mysterious and largely unknown figure, perhaps even an oddity of history; a gun-fighting carpenter, befriended by legendary lawman, Wyatt Earp and bunco boss, Soapy Smith. No one seemed to know much about him, and quick as he appeared on the scene, he was gone again, remaining just a footnote in the histories of the nineteenth century American west. For many years most historians thought John Wilson Vermillion was the famed “Texas Jack,” but Peter Brand successfully uncovers and explores the true identities and captivating histories of John W. Vermillion, as well as John Oberland Vermillion, the bona fide “Texas Jack.” Thanks to Mr. Brand the mysterious, unknown “Texas Jack” is no more.

     Mr. Brand’s book is composed the way a good biography should be. One of its strongest points is that the known facts, the author’s theories, opinions, and conclusions are well defined and separated, giving the reader the opportunity to judge and come to his or her own conclusion. Another strong point is Peter’s clever formula for compelling the reader to continue exploring the entire book rather than piece read. Whereas some Wyatt Earp and Soapy Smith fans might be tempted to skip to the sections of their choice, Mr. Brand uses John O. Vermillion’s own quotes in such a way that keeps the reader engrossed to the very last page. I don’t recall having seen this method used in a biography as successfully as it is done here; A perfect adaption considering Vermillion is largely known mostly to Earp fans.

      For the fans of Soapy Smith there is a lot to take in and value from Mr. Brand’s book. Besides the bountiful information on Vermillion, there are accounts of his associates who went on to become members and friends of the Soap Gang themselves, such as “Big Ed” Burns (Byrnes), James Bruce, George Millsap, Sam Emrich, and “Fatty” Gray. I won’t go into the details here but there is so much value in this book that I plan to keep it at the ready, as I continue to absorb and utilize Mr. Brand’s fine research for my own work. After I have exhausted the supply of treasures contained within the 152 pages, I will designate a spot of honor on my bookshelves for this important work.

 








"Texas Jack"/"Shoot-Your-Eye-Out Jack" Vermillion
August 8, 2010
September 11, 2010
January 10, 2011
August 1, 2011

"Texas Jack"/"Shoot-Your-Eye-Out Jack" Vermillion: pages 75, 88, 92-92, 162-63, 165, 170, 175.

"Here 'Soapy' Smith and his gang of outlaws and murders operated along the trail; here he was killed; here is his dishonored grave, between the mountains which will not endure longer than the tale of his desperate crimes, and his desperate expiation."

—Ella Higginson,
Alaska The Great Country, 1917

BBC's Copper and Soapy Smith, part 2

ELECTION FRAUD!
Scene of the crime

(Click image to enlarge)

ast week I talked on the new BBC TV series Copper and the mention of the prize package soap sell racket. Although this weeks episode is not directly related to Soapy Smith I thought the inclusion of election fraud, and the buying of votes in a saloon is very similar to the election scandal of 1889 in Denver, Colorado that involved Soapy and Bat Masterson, as described in my book, Alias Soapy Smith. 

      In the show Copper, the villainy takes place in Eva's Paradise, a saloon and brothel in five points, New York. A police officer is in charge of handing out disguises (wigs, fake beards, hats), a shot of whiskey, and a "name" for each tramp to vote under. It is obvious from the disguises that these tramps are "repeaters," men who vote numerous times. The following comes direct from my book. Note the uncanny similarities.

In the spring of 1889, Jeff, Ed Chase, “Bat” Masterson, John Morris, Ned Parker, John Kinneavy, city detective Sam “Sheeny Sam” Emerick and a host of others were involved in the criminal act of fraudulently registering hundreds of names to vote so that ballot boxes could be stuffed with hundreds of false and fictitious and votes.

Election day, April 2, 1889, turned into a carnival of abuses. Reportedly, because of their twenty-thousand-dollar slush fund, saloonkeepers were able to pay two dollars per vote. Bonuses for repeaters were generously awarded in the form of lottery tickets and free beer. Tramps and hoodlums from nearby towns were brought to Denver and marched to the polls by election-day special deputies.

      Fraudulent voting in Denver was an open secret for a long time, including Jeff’s involvement. Appearing in 1910 was a book of remembrances about Denver in the 1880s and 1890s. As a young man interested in the law, Lindsey

had read, in the newspapers, of how the Denver Republicans won the elections by fraud—by ballot-box stuffing and what not—and I had followed one “Soapy” Smith on the streets, from precinct to precinct, with his gang of election thieves, and had seen them vote not once but five times openly. I had seen a young man, whom I knew, knocked down and arrested for “raising a disturbance” when he objected to “Soapy” Smith’s proceeding; and the policeman who arrested him did it with a smile and a wink.

—Alias Soapy Smith, p. 173

"There you are. Take your free drink courtesy of Mr. Tweed.
This time your name is 'Jack Morrison'
Remember, vote McClellan and Tammany!
Keep moving, we've got an election to win."

On election day, members of the gambling fraternity as well as tramps in Jeff’s precinct had been sent to the Tivoli Club, the Silver Club, Bascomb's cigar store, and the Jockey Club. There they received a slip of paper containing the name of a registered voter. They would then go to the polling place where that name was listed and vote using the name on the slip of paper. It was found that over eight hundred fraudulent votes had been cast in this way. The practice was noticed due to the back and forth travel of these voters. They were asked to vote just once, but some overzealous rogues repeated the process three and four times. These voters were known as repeaters. Mike Maher, one of those so named, admitted in court that he alone had voted nearly one hundred times. —Alias Soapy Smith, p. 176

 










Copper: October 3, 2012

Election fraud of 1889: pages 173-76.

"Kindhearted, generous Soapy Smith is known to many men. Many know him, too, as a man who would stand by his friends to the end. Many others know him as a bitter enemy. When he thinks he is right, he stands by it, and when it is the other way, he stands by that, too."

—[Denver Republican] Alias Soapy Smith, p. 213.

Frederick Stephen Wombwell: Friend of Soapy Smith?

First time I recognize seeing this particular Soapy Smith grave
photograph postcard. Note the complete wood framing around
the marker and the arrangement of the rocks in a circle, rather
than piled in the center as shown in later photos. I believe this is 
one of the earliest photos of the 2nd marker in the ground.

(Click image to enlarge)

 
   recently came across the text of an extremely rare edition of A Year in the Klondyke: 1898-1899 by Frederick Stephen Wombwell. The 148 page diary-book is incredibly rare because each copy is individually typed and sell for around $4,000. I have never personally seen a copy and it is not shared on-line, however, someone shared a few pages with me. What I have is from the person who owns the book, so I cannot confirm the text. Apparently Frederick Wombwell had a run-in with Soapy and his gang in Skagway so it is certainly worth sharing.

On April 12 Wombwell left Juneau and arrived at a small town about 12 miles below Skagway. The next morning

“I did a bit of exploration around the town. Mud knee-deep in all the streets…I visited around the various gambling places and saloons, and at Soapy Smith’s got into an argument and a fight, out of which I do not think I came out second-best.”

From Skagway they traveled to the summit of White Pass which proved to be quite the ordeal.

“All sorts and conditions of people on the trail, including quite a number of women, and many old men who ought not to be in this country, all looking so tired and grim.”

May 23, 1898.

“…, I met 'Soapy Smith' at his saloon. Soapy acquired his nick-name either from the fact that he is such a 'slippery' individual, or else, as the story goes, because he at one time sold packages of soap supposed to be wrapped in five-dollar bills, which of course, they were not. Certainly he never acquired the name from a prolific use of soap. Anyway, he is reputed to be the most dangerous bad man in Alaska; his looks certainly belie his character, for he really is a small, slim man with soft brown eyes, and a short Vandyke beard. Does not look as though he would harm a fly. I got along very well with him and we had lunch together. Later I wanted to join a poker game in his place, but when he said, 'You are a friend of mine, don’t you play,' I got wise and laid off it.”

I find it rather interesting that nearly every story ever told by a person who survived an encounter with the Soap Gang, never admits to being beaten, financially or physically. This one is even more interesting, considering Wombwell later becomes a friend of Soapy's.

      There is one red-flag here, in which it appears that Wombwell states he had a brawl in Soapy's place in Dyea, but there is no record that Soapy opened any business in Dyea. This very well could be a mistake on the part of the person who sent the contents to me, as Wombwell again goes to Soapy's place, but this time it is clearly in Skagway and he gives no indication that there are two such businesses, one in Dyea and one in Skagway.

 

"Alaska in the Gold Rush days, where life was cheap and thin, Such desperate times were perfect times for brutal, desperate men. In Skagway, Soapy’s grifter mob left many miners broke, And if you weren’t a gambler, they’d just rob you of your poke. "

—Ed Parrish

Jeff Smith's Parlor restoration: Bob Lyon, part 17

Skagway postcard

(Click image to enlarge)

or the past seven months we here on Soapy's soapbox have been very fortunate to have historian Bob Lyon contribute updates and photographs pertaining to the Jeff Smith's Parlor restoration project, and the Martin Itjen/George Rapuzzi collection. I am sad to report that we will likely soon lose his valuable peeks into the project, however, we are certainly glad to report that it is because Mr. Lyon is moving up the ladder in National Park Service ranks. We wish him all the best of luck in everything he does. In the mean time, here, in his own words, is the latest news.

Probably won't be anything new until spring. Though park maintenance is continuing to prepare the Parlor, I don't know what's happening with the exhibits. The plan was to put everything back where it was under Itjen and sort of a combination with Rapuzzi. But, the building will end up about 6-8 inches more narrow because of the framing to keep the place from falling down. That's a problem, but there really wasn't any other way to stabilize the building. Considering how many times it's been altered...first by Soapy, then moved and altered by the Fire Dept., then Itjen, then moved and renovated again by Rapuzzi...How much of the building fabric is original? Nobody really knows. Probably not a lot. But certainly some of it.

      I took photos for the exhibit designers a year and a half ago. I haven't kept up with how that planning is going. We'd love to get rid of that fence in front, but, damnation, it's historic to the Rapuzzi era. Taking it down would require all kinds of legalities. Could be done, eventually, I hope. I think once the building is done and open again, we'll take a look at that fence.

      I'm done here in a year, by the way. My position is a term job and it's over next August. ... Though I know everybody involved and can keep you updated somewhat. I'm moving into a different program next week. Have to say I'm kind of tired of Soapy and his blasted building! I'm kidding, but I won't have much to do with it this next year. The new program may send me to Skagway for other purposes, but we'll see. I'll be off to Denali, maybe Sitka, but I'll be dealing with historic buildings in all the parks in Alaska, instead of focusing on Klondike Gold Rush National Historical Park.

Bob Lyon

Thank you Mr. Bob Lyon

for everything you have shared with us.

Jeff Smith's Parlor restoration

February 4, 2009 (Part 1)
February 19, 2009 (Part 2)  
March 31, 2010 (Part 3)  
August 7, 2010 (Part 4) 
February 11, 2011 (Part 5) 
April 5, 2011 (Part 6)
May 8, 2011 (Part 7)
May 17, 2011 (Part 8)
November 20, 2011 (Part 9)
March 21, 2012 (Part 10)
March 30, 2012 (Part 11)
June 20, 2012 (Part 12)
August 8, 2012 (Part 13)
August 29, 2012 (Part 14)
September 1, 2012 (Part 15)
September 26, 2012 (Part 16)

"When Soapy Smith owned the gamblers in Creede his cognomen was commonplace. Now since he has been chosen to lead the Denver redeemers they call him Sapolio de Smythe. Great it is to be a leader of the republican gang."

—Alamosa Leader, circa 1890s