Artifact #82: Soapy Smith's son writes to his son and daughter-in-law, 1938

Artifact #82
Soapy's son (Jefferson R. Smith III)
writes to his son, Joseph Jefferson Smith
Jeff Smith collection

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our grandfather, a kindly and generous man, a man who lived within the law and fought the enemies of truth."

 

 

In late 1937 - early 1938, my aunt and uncle, Thelma Anne Rothmund [1911-1981] and Joseph Jefferson Smith [1909-1977] (Soapy's grandchildren), wrote to Joseph's father, Jefferson Randolph Smith III, (Soapy's son) sending him a copy of the War Cry magazine issue (October 16, 1937) that contained the story by Evangeline Booth, fourth daughter of the founder, William Booth, and how she converted Soapy Smith to religion.

 

Evangeline Booth is said to have arrived in Skagway in May 1898. Some of the versions have Booth going to Soapy, while others have Soapy coming to her. I am still searching for a copy of the War Cry, so I can only speak on the latter version which is utilized in the book, General Evangeline Booth of the Salvation Army, by P. W. Wilson, 1948, page 129.

Soapy Smith, who owned the saloon, was quite a celebrity. He got his name in Denver where he sold soap at the street corners. Within certain of the packages were wrapped one, five and ten dollar bills, and with this inducement he did a roaring trade. The loaded packages, however, were handed to purchasers who were confederates, and with Soapy Smith they were hunted out of Denver, finding their way to Skagway where, by fair means or foul, they lured prospectors with money on them into a condition where they could be robbed. Soapy and his gang numbering some sixty adherents were a terror to the town. He was a tall dour man and Evangeline watched him during one of her meetings as he stood listening intently to what she was saying.

One evening in their camp among the trees the Salvationist party was warned that Soapy Smith with five of his bodyguard was approaching. It was a case of firearms on both sides. "Leave him to me," said Evangeline Booth, and she met the party. Supper was over, she said, but she would be happy to give them cups of cocoa. They sat and drank the cocoa and the Field Commissioner took Soapy Smith aside. "Why don't you give up this kind of life?" she asked him, and apparently he was impressed. He said that if he surrendered to the authorities it would be death, and she spoke to him of a salvation that means victory over death. Amid the shadows of the forest they prayed together and Soapy Smith departed.

A citizens meeting was held on a long wharf at Skagway. It was decided to clean out Soapy Smith and his gang. Soapy appeared in force and there was shooting on both sides. The town surveyor, Frank Reid, standing to guard the entrance to the wharf, was killed, which was murder, and Soapy was badly wounded. He was operated on by the surgeon in hope that he might live to be hung. But he cheated the gallows. Five years later someone happened to visit his grave. It was fragrant with fresh flowers. A strange man, he had been, and loved, it would seem, by somebody. For the Salvation Army he always had had a fondness. He told Evangeline Booth that his mother had taken him to its meetings as a little boy, and he had been eager to go because they allowed him to clap his hands.

In the book, Salvation Comes to the Last Frontier, by Evan Dowling, 1986, it is claimed that Booth converted Soapy as well as two members of the Soap Gang. My father and his siblings denied Booth's story because of the numerous "errors." One of the big errors was that Soapy’s mother took him to Salvation Army meetings when he was young. Although my father was going by the family history as he had learned it from his grandmother, Soapy's widow, his argument makes perfect sense considering the Salvation Army did not come to the United States until 1880, three years after Soapy’s mother had passed away. 

 

Back to the letter (artifact #82), ironically, Jefferson had worked for Evangeline Booth as her publicity representative in St. Louis. He adds, "but, dear children be not alarmed as all the allegations are untrue," touching on some of the untrue stories Evangeline Booth told, as well as comparing his father to that of the Salvation Army leadership. His last paragraph is my favorite, even though it shows 100% support for Soapy, which is common in children of famous American bad men. 

 

I have always spoken to you of your grandfather with deep reverence, and I do the same when I discuss his life with your brothers and sisters, and with my dear father's grandchildren. I want you to believe, as I have often told you, that your grandfather, a kindly and generous man, a man who lived within the law and fought the enemies of truth. I want you to continue to believe that he was everything a good man should be, despite allegations by even so great a woman as Miss Evangeline Booth, head of the Salvation Army, and by a widely advertised writer of a book laveled[sic]: "How to Win Friends and Influence People."

Evangeline Booth

 

May 15, 2011

Salvation Army and the Tivoli Club: page 173. 

 

 

"There is a very easy way to return from a gambling house with a small fortune: go there with a large one."

—Jack Yelton

THREE-CARD MONTE MEN: Denver Republican, May 11, 1882.

THREE-CARD MONTE MEN.
Denver Republican
May 11, 1882

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e's just struck old Ellie Perkins for $5."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

     Though not directly related to the story of Soapy Smith, this Denver Republican article is a great example of one method the monte tossers had of extracting funds from victims, even from those that don't make bets on the three-card monte game. The sharpers simply move to "plan B."
     I am not familiar with a confidence man named Bill "Missouri Bill" Keyes, or even whether it is a real individual, but I hope to find out soon.

     Below is the transcribed article.

THREE-CARD MONTE MEN.
―
How a Fly Capper, Under the Guise of a Clergyman, Roped in Eli Perkins―A Lie in Two Acts.
―

      The reason why I urge upon every one, however smart, not to put too much confidence in his own smartness, will be seen further on. Yesterday I had to wait several hours at Monmouth, Illinois, a station on the Chicago Burlington and Quincy road. Monmouth has been frequented by three-card monte men for years. I have always known it, have often seen them there, and have often written about them. Well, yesterday they were there again. One of them, with a Canada Bill dialect, wanted to show me some strange "keerds" that he got in Chicago.
     "What were you doing up there?" I asked, knowing that he was a three-card monte man and feeling an interest in his modes.
      "Me and pap," he said, "took up some hogs. We took up a pile of 'em an' made a heap; but pap he got swindled by a three-card monte man. Got near ruined. But I grabbed the keerd, and I'll show you how they done it."
      "Never mind, boy," I said; "I know all about it. I know the whole racket. I'll keep quiet, mind my own business and let you try your monte game business on someone a little more fresh."
      The monte-boy saw at once that I was posted, and soon turned his attention to a good-looking, young and innocent clergyman in the depot. In a few moments I saw that the innocent clergyman had become deeply interested. His interest grew as he watched the cards. There were three ordinary business cards.
      "I believe I can tell which card has Willowby and Hill on it," said the innocent clergyman.
      “All right - but try it," said the monte man, flopping them about.
      “There, that's the one,” said the clergyman, smiling.
      Sure enough he was right.
      "I don't see how your poor father could lose all his money at such a simple game as that," said the clergyman. "why your eyes can see the card all the time."
      "Suppose you bet $5 that you can tell," suggested the monte man.
      "All right; I'll risk it," said the clergyman, "though I don't like to win money that way."
     The card was turned, and of course the poor, unsuspecting clergyman lost. Again he tried it, hoping to get his $5 back, bit lost again. Then he put up his last dollar and lost that. Then, seeming to realize his situation, he put up his hand to his head and walked out of the depot.
     “To think,” he said, “that I, a clergyman, should get caught at this game. Why, I might have known it was three card monte. I've No respect for myself," and he wiped his eyes in acute condemnation.
     "Why don't you complain of the scoundrel?" I said.
     "I would, but I'm a clergyman, and if they should hear of my sin and foolishness in Peoria, I would be ruined. My poor family would suffer for my sins."
     "Then I'd keep quiet about it," I said; "but let it be a lesson to you never to think you know more than other people."
     "But they've got my last dollar, and I want to go to Peoria. I must go there to preach on Sunday," said the innocent suffering man.
     "Can't you borrow of some one?" I asked.
     "No one knows me, and I don't like to tell my name here after this occurrence," said the poor man; half crying.
     "Very well," I said, "hand me your card, and I will let you have $5, and you can send it to me at the Palmer House, Chicago, when you get to Peoria," and I handed the poor man the money.
     A moment afterward I spoke to the agent at the depot about the wickedness of these monte men, told him of how I had to lend the poor clergyman $5 to get home.
     "And you lent him $5?"
     "Yes, I lent the poor man the money."
     "Well, by the great guns!" and then he slung his hat and yelled to the operator:
     "Bill, you know that ministerial- looking man around here."
     "You mean the capper for the three card monte men, don't you? Bill Keyes-Missouri Bill?"
     "Yes."
     "Well, by the Great Guns he's the best man in the whole gang! He's just struck old Ellie Perkins for $5. It does beat me what blankety, blankety fools them darned newspaper men are."

         Eli Perkins.

December 14, 2011
March 18, 2010

Three-card monte: 8, 10, 15, 27, 51, 53-55, 59, 69, 75, 80, 91, 121, 141, 248, 360, 467, 472, 526.

"The urge to gamble is so universal and its practice is so pleasurable, that I assume it must be evil."

—Heywood Broun (1888-1939)

Was Soapy Smith in Rochester, Minnesota in 1883?

"He invested his $14 and got
two five cent cakes of soap.”
Daily Globe
St. Paul, Minnesota
July 13, 1883

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id Soapy Smith operate in Rochester, Minnesota in 1883?

 

 

 

 

Does the newspaper clipping posted at the top, refer to confidence-man Soapy Smith?

“A man came into town to spend the Fourth. He brought $14, with which he promised to buy his wife a lounge. He saw a man putting a $20 gold piece inside the wrapper around a cake of soap, and selling them for $10. He invested his $14 and got two five cent cakes of soap.” (Daily Globe, St. Paul, Minnesota)

My father told me that in the early part of Soapy's career that he used coins, later changing over to paper currency.

It is known that Soapy operated in the surrounding states in 1883, and positively known that he operated in Minnesota in 1892, but there is no solid provenance that this is our Soapy.

Rochester, Minnesota
August 1883
One month after the soap swindler was there
Courtesy of Minnesota Digital Library

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"No wife can endure a gambling husband, unless he is a steady winner."

—Thomas Robert Dewar

Soapy Smith opens a shell and pea game on the pass, October 1, 1897

‘Soapy’ Smith opened up a shell game
The Philipsburg Mail
Philipsburg, Montana
October 1, 1897

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alk about hard times”

Below is the transcribed article clipping from The Philipsburg Mail (Philipsburg, Montana), October 1, 1897.

“Talk about hard times,” said Mr. Harris, “one could scarcely believe there was such a thing any where in the land after seeing the apparent prosperity among the people of Sheep Camp. Any man you may meet is prepared to change a $100 bill, and big gambling games are constantly going on. A fellow who is known in many parts of the country as ‘Soapy’ Smith opened up a shell game on the pass and in a few days he captured enough ‘suckers’ so that he pulled out when we did with $20,000 in cold cash. One-half of his winnings were scooped from two brothers who had spent the past three years in the Klondike and were on their way home to make their families happy when they fell victims to the ‘sure thing’ game and went broke. 

 

Interesting to note that "Mr. Harris" knew about the amount of money (actually $30,000 not $20,000) taken in by Soapy, Jack Jolly and Jerry Daily. The story of Soapy's profit during his first 23 days in Skagway. The earliest newspaper accounting I could find occurred in September 1897 so it is possible that "Mr. Harris" read about Soapy's success and pretended to be a first-hand witness. My first hint that led me to question "Mr. Harris," is how a miner would have so much information on Soapy's operation, including the fact that "One-half of his winnings were scooped from two brothers ..." Great story though!

 

"Someone once asked me why women don't gamble as much as men do, and I gave the common-sensical reply that we don't have as much money. That was a true but incomplete answer. In fact, women's total instinct for gambling is satisfied by marriage."

—Gloria Steinem

Soapy Smith arrested in Spokane, Washington July 29, 1897

SOAPY SMITH ARRESTED
Spokesman Review
July 29, 1897

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e objected to the word vagrancy."

 

When the Excelsior docked in San Francisco on July 14, 1897, excitement spread quickly when each passenger disembarked with a reported average of from $30,000 to $90,000 in gold. The same occurred on July 17 when the Portland docked in Seattle. I have always felt that Soapy Smith was in Seattle at the time, perhaps even down on the docks welcoming the Portland and all that gold to Seattle. That he caught the first boat to Alaska. 

 

Although he may still have been in Seattle on July 17th, he was in Spokane on July 28, 1897, where he was arrested. This arrest may have been the reason Soapy did not leave for Alaska until August 14, 1897.

 

Yesterday's arrests included Charles Ross and Jeff ("Soapy") Smith, both charged with vagrancy. At the latter's request he was booked for disorderly conduct as he objected to the word vagrancy.

 

"The safest way to double your money is to fold it over once and put it in your pocket."

—Ken Hubbard

Soapy Smith: Uncrowned King of Skaguay, San Francisco Examiner, February 25, 1898

The Uncrowned King of Skaguay
The San Francisco Examiner
February 25 1898

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t was in good old times. Every man had money―unless he met "Soapy."

 

Soapy Smith had been traveling around the Pacific Northwest since 1896. For the most part he remained an unknown, successfully keeping his past identity from the newspapers. That began to change once he settled in Skagway, Alaska and made a noise for himself. Newspaper reporters researched who "Soapy" Smith was, and published their findings in their newspapers, and as the Klondike gold rush was on everyone's minds, the newspapers capitalized on the "uncrowned king of Skaguay." The San Francisco Examiner found a copy of Soapy's cabinet card (see below) taken in Denver and had an artist draw Soapy for publication with an article on Soapy.
     As the newspapers of the states increased their publications on Soapy Smith, exposing his crimes, as well as those of his gang, the growing concerns of the citizens of Skagway were that the Klondikers coming to, and going from, the gold fields, may choose another route, by-passing Skagway all-together. Skagway witnessed how quickly the neighboring town of Dyea died, and they had no wish to be victims of the same fate. In the coming five months Soapy worked diligently to retain his power, his popularity with the Skagway residents, and improve relations with the newspapers, especially those on the west coast, Tacoma, Seattle, San Francisco and Los Angeles.
     Below is the transcription of the San Francisco Examiner article pictured above.

Jefferson Randolph "Soapy" Smith
Circa 1890
Jeff Smith Collection

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THIS GAMBLER ASPIRES TO BE AN ALASKAN CHIEF OF POLICE.

―

Rules the Sporting Fraternity at the Gateway of the Gold Fields and Thinks He Would Be the Best Man to Preserve Peace in the District.

―

“SOAPY” SMITH, THE UNCROWNED KING OF THE TOWN OF SKAGUAY.

      “Soapy” Smith, one time known as Jeff, gambler, politician, “sure-thing” man, has added to his other titles that of “Shah of Skaguay.” He also longs to be called "Chief.” In the Boom town at the entrance to White pass, "Soapy" is a power and a prominent citizen. The sporting fraternity own allegiance to his cause and when the place is incorporated will further his ambition to be Chief of Police.
     It was Smith who saved the neck of Fay, the bartender who recently shot United States Deputy Marshal McGowan [sic: "Rowan"] and another man. Vigilantes would have lynched Fay had "Soapy" not gathered his forces and prevented the execution.
     The story of the career of the would-be policeman teems with tales of adventure. He is known all along the Pacific Coast as a most desperate gambler. It was, however in Colorado that he first achieved prominence. The memory of "Soapy" Smith lingers in Denver like the recollection of a bad dream. Is almost impossible to ascertain when "Soapy" came to Denver or Whence, but out of the tangle of rich anecdotes of his earlier career there rises a picture which is indelible.
     It was in good old times. Every man had money―unless he met "Soapy." Up Seventeenth street from the Union Depot there streamed a throng of people. In the midst of them stood "Soapy" on a box. He had soap to sell; it was not plain, ordinary soap, fit only for the washing of dirty hands or soiled linen. It was, on the contrary, very remarkable soap. "Soapy" touched the soap and lo! there was an inner wrapping of crisp bank notes around every bar. The eyes of the spectators bulged out. What was the use hunting over the hills for deceptive silver mines? Here was a fortune close at hand. “Soapy” had just a few left for sale. Under his magic touch a bar was seen to be enfolded in money. With eager eye fixed upon the tempting treasure, the spectator passed his hard-earned cash to the magician and grabbed the potent bar. Upon opening the outer wrapper, breathing short and quick the while, he found―just soap; but it was a very good soap. That was one thing to be said of "Soapy." He was always conscientious and in little things and was far above petty tricks. Other people bought soap and "Soapy's" business came to be profitable and he devoted himself to it till greater ambitions inspired him to more original endeavors.
     "Soapy" became very proficient in the shell game and in all the various schemes of the high class bunco man. For many years he enjoyed power and influence in Denver, for his political relations and the authority he welded in the downtown districts gave him immunity from police interference. Year after year he flourished, buncoed visitors, conducted a gambling-house and made his name a by-word and a synonym. He made fortune after fortune and spent it all in riotous living and in good deeds, for it must be ever said of "Soapy" that no hungry man ever asked aid of him and was refused. Smith left Denver in 1896, driven out at last by the women empowered with the suffrage. He went to New Orleans, was imprisoned there for vagrancy and finally drifted to the Pacific Coast.

The following comes from the book, Alias Soapy Smith: The Life and Death of a Scoundrel.

The article correctly exposed Jeff’s past in Denver, including a detailed exposé of the prize soap sell racket. But even in this damning article, the reporter apparently felt compelled to include that Jeff also had a good side. ...
     ... Jeff’s infamous past had caught up with him. Too soon every Skaguay resident would know his full identity. An obviously powerful friend in San Francisco, known only as “John,” wrote to Jeff about the article and to warn him about a “squealer” thought to be in Skaguay. This interesting and colorful but long and somewhat repetitive letter has been shortened; otherwise, with a few assists, it appears as written.

Esmond House, 43 Sixth Street

San Francisco, Cal., Feby. 25 1898

Jeff Smith, Esqr.

Chief Police, Skaguay, Alaska:

    

Friend Jeff:—Today’s San Francisco Examiner gives you quite a good send off with a large picture of you. It seems by this able sheet you will be the next or first chief and if so I am glad of it, so you can regulate some of the wolfs that’s in our line of calling. They must have some man of judgment to regulate them or they will break up any place they go. There is one in particular, who is strickly out for himself and I here he is in your town (Skaguay); he will undermine you or any one else in order to gain his own point. I tell you Jeff he Dutch or John Rennels would put you and everyone else in jail to have the graft himself. If he had his way in this city while with me he would have had many of the gang drove out or put in the workhouse. You will always find him sneaking around talking to officers and telling other people[’s] bisness to them. Jeff he … is beyond a doubt one of the most dangerous men in the country and avoid[s] any principle. The only friend or God he knows or acknowledges is the mazuma and to reach that he will stop at nothing, he has not a charatable or Honorable hair in his head. When I had to drop him from the pay roll he got drunk like any cheap guy on 5¢ beer—large glasses, and combined with old McCormick to write me and the police department up through a pettifogging attorney here [—] he with McCormick in their letter given to the Daily Call newspaper claimed that I had the Chief of Police right and was given him the chief money. Now I and everyone else knows this to be true that Rennels and McCormick are the guilty ones—…. Such people ought to be in the sewer. You can rest assured he is your enemy. He has roasted you to me more than once and told me what smart capers he cut while in Denver, Col.

     There was nothing bad enough he did not say about you he can give you plenty of taffy while there is money in it but he is full of deceit, if you touch his pocket you can find out where his Dutch heart is if he has any. There is only one thing to do with him to keep him on the walk [—] drive him out of town for you or anyone else can not do a thing he will not tell officials to get into favor. I learned that deceitful rascals faults at my own expense. Why Golden Gaggers and others would have driven him from here a pauper only for me, and he repaid me well for my favors shown him by writing up the police dept and saying I was giving them percentages. … They put some of the gang on the tramp, but I am living well and eating the same and no trouble on my mind, for I am O K and treated all as I would wish to be treated myself. …McCormick, Atkins and others … are dead letters here as well as many other places. Their pedigree is ahead of them in many citys. Any information or anything I can do for you here I will do cheerfully in the way of ordering anything you might want. Hoping I may have the pleasure of hearing of you been elected Chief and with best wishes I remain

Your Friend and well wisher.
JOHN.

[P.S.] This is no heresay. The cop, the attorney who wrote the article and Billy Atkins who was there listening to Dutch getting McC to do it all tell me Dutch is to blame for all.

San Francisco Examiner article, Feb 25, 1898: page 463-64.

"In a bet there is a fool and a thief."

—Proverb

Jesse Murphy mentioned as shooting Soapy Smith in The Dyea Trail, July 9, 1898

Skaguay Rises in Righteous Wrath
The Dyea Trail
July 9, 1898

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 man named Murphy had done his best to kill Soapy."

 

 

 

 

An extremely rare opportunity slid by me in an eBay auction listing for the July 9, 1898 (Vol. 1,No. 26) issue of The Dyea Trail (Dyea, Alaska), which sold for $406.00.
     This 8 page weekly publication measuring app. 12"x18" was started on January 12, 1898 and was one of two weekly newspapers in Dyea (the other being The Dyea Press). The inner pages (3-6) are printed on slightly smaller paper (10¾"x17"). This Newspaper only lasted about a year, roughly coinciding with the peak and ebb of the Klondike gold rush. There were 5,000 to 8,000 inhabitants in 1898 but by 1900 the town had dwindled to just 250, and by 1903 it had become a ghost town.

     This issue is important because it is the first report of Soapy's death from the shootout on Juneau Wharf, in Skagway, five miles away. Being published the day after the gunfight, it contains the earliest mention of Jesse Murphy shooting Soapy. The Skagway newspapers make no mention of Murphy having fired a single shot. I really hated not being able to get it.

     Unfortunately, the photographs used by the eBay seller are too poor to transcribe properly. 

 

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"Midway Saloon"
The Dyea Trail
July 9, 1898
"Renie Baker, Proprietress"

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"I returned, and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all."

—Ecclesiastes 9:11

Doc Baggs Mock Auction House, Denver Republican, Feb. 12, 1882

MOCK AUCTION WATCHES
Denver Republican
February 12, 1882

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ore on the snide watch, mock auction house

 

This is the second, and more detailed article from the Denver Republican's expose on a Larimer street mock auction house, beginning on February 11, 1882. I do not recognize the names of H. E. Myers or H. Simon, the operator of the mock auction house, and though the operation is near identical to Soapy's auction houses he ran in the late 1880s-90s, I am pretty certain this is not Soapy's operation, as Soapy is still a nomad, roaming the western states, looking for a permanent location for his operations. It appears that Charles L. "Doc" Baggs is still the king-pin bunko man of Denver. Below is the transcribed article.

 

 

AUCTION WATCHES.
—
Myers, the Auctioneer, Declares That He Is Above Suspicion.
—
A Watch-Man Ventures a Few Queries and Suggestions Regarding the Matter.
—

      A Publication was made in yesterday's REPUBLICAN regarding the purchase of a 3-karat gold watch by a man named H. A. Taylor, from H. Simon an auctioneer doing business at 371 Larimer street.① The article stated that Taylor bought the watch at auction, for $24, on the representation that the cases were of solid gold and the watch was in good running order for two years. After he had made the purchase, Taylor says he began to suspicion that he had been swindled, and consequently took the watch to a well-known jeweler to have it tested. The jeweler tested the cases with acid, and the result was that the gold was eaten away, and several black spots appeared, which could not be [?]. The jeweler informed Taylor that it was a snide auction watch, worth at the utmost $15 or $18. Taylor returned to the auction house and endeavored to get his money back, failing in which he publicly proclaimed that he had been swindled, he came to THE REPUBLICAN office and made a statement in regard to the matter.

MR. MYERS' STATEMENT.

      Mr. H. E. Myers is the auctioneer in Simon's establishment. He came around to THE REPUBLICAN office yesterday, in high dudgeon, contending, in a very forcible language, that the statement of Taylor in regard to his being swindled was totally wrong, and that the watch was just what it was represented to be when Taylor bid it in at $24. A reporter called around at the auction house last night and heard Myers' statement. It was substantially as follows: He held a watch in his hand, which he claimed to be an exact facsimile of the one sold to Baker. "This," said he, "is a solid gold case, with a National movement, Elgin Illinois. We guarantee these watches, and I gave Taylor a guarantee. He took the watch to a jeweler and had it tested, and then he brought it back to me very much disfigured, and wanted me to give him his money back. I told him if the watch was not just as I guaranteed it I would refund him his money. I sold him the watch with the guarantee that the cases were of solid gold-but I did not say how fine the cases were. They might be 4-karat, or 6 or 8, or anywhere up to 18-karat, and still be solid gold. I did not guarantee the fineness, but if he had asked me to do so I would have put in the guarantee that the cases were 10-karat, which they were. There is no such thing as a 3-karat watch. The lowest grade is 4-karat. Now, the acid used by the jeweler in testing these cases was 18-karat acid, with salt in it. You probably know that acids are of different strength. An 18-karat acid will eat into a 10-karat case and a 10-karat acid will eat into a 4-karat case. Of course the 10-karat case on Taylor's watch could not withstand 18-karat acid-and any jeweler will tell you that this is true. I can take the strongest quality of acid, put salt in it, and eat up a twenty-dollar gold piece. The watch sold to Taylor is strictly in conformity with the guarantee, and there was no misrepresentation in making the sale. In fact, the profit on the watch was so small that I would readily have taken it back and refunded the money, if the watch had not been defaced and disfigured. There was no snide in the matter, and we are willing to stand by our guarantee."

—

The Other Side of the Case.

Denver, Colorado, February 11, 1882.

To the editor of the Republican.
      An article in this morning's REPUBLICAN, and headed "A Three-Karat Watch," hits the nail square on the head, and as this question has been opened for discussion, allow me a small space in your independent paper to make a few remarks on it.
     The jewelry and watch auctions are carried to such an extent in this city and the bidding is so palpably fraudulent that it seems as though a man with ordinary intellect could not help but discover the humbug at once, but it appears that as soon as one victim retires to meditate upon the demerits of his bargain another will surely take his place. If people would only watch the auctioneer closely they would surely discover that nearly all the bidding is done by the auctioneer himself, as for instance: He starts a watch that cost him $5 at $7; then he commences to bid it up to say $9.50, and keeps crying that bid until some "sucker" bites by bidding $10. Of course the watch is surely his, and it don't take him long to find out that he is sold. People often wonder when they hear one of these mock auctions who does all the bidding, lots of them never dreaming that the auctioneer is the "many bidders."
      There is a distinct difference between the jewelry and watches sold at auction and those sold by the regular jeweler. The watches sold at auction are usually of the poorest kind. The watches they sell for gold are from 4 to 8 karat. The cases are extremely light, so that usually the engraving on the outside shows through on the inside of the case. The movements are the poorest and cheapest to be had, and, although it may be an Elgin or Waltham watch, let me inform the reader that these companies make watches that cost only $3.50. Add to this a gold case that costs $12 and you have a total of $15.50, and these watches are sold at auction from $25 to $45. Now do you see how auction stores can pay big rents and employ expensive auctioneers?
      With jewelry it is just the same. An article may be gold and very poor; in fact, not half as good as a good rolled plate article, while a rolled plate article may wear as good as solid gold, and it may not wear as well as good common gilding. The same difference exists in watches and jewelry as in clothing, hats, dry goods or other merchandise. Lots of men who will not buy anything snide in other goods, will go to auctions and buy the snidest kind of jewelry and watches, and when they find out that they have been sold, they will take good care not to let anyone else know it, because they fear that someone will laugh at them, and that would be terrible. The auctioneer knows this, and that's why he keeps on with the same old cry.

Yours against all humbugs,

Watchman.

—

Footnotes

①: See post March 30, 2021 for the Denver Republican, February 11, 1882.

 











Mock Auction House

March 30, 2021

April 12, 2020

Auction House: pages 15, 43, 75-76, 88, 90, 92, 120, 129-32, 138, 162-63, 180, 188, 190-91, 242, 294, 360, 421-22.

"QUOTE QUOTE"

—Robert

Bad Man From Colorado: Bascomb Smith in Butte, Montana, 1896.

BAD MAN FROM COLORADO
The Butte Miner
Butte, Montana
December 4, 1896

(Click image to enlarge)

 

ad Man From Colorado

Bascomb Smith in Butte, Montana 

 

A hard accounting of "Soapy" Smith's younger brother, Bascomb.
 

As of this newspaper article, Bascomb was a recent released one-year prisoner of  the Colorado prison system. His brother was gone, having fled Colorado to keep from being placed behind bars, likely he was looking at a longer sentence than Bascomb. Soapy tried to convince Bascomb to leave Colorado with him, and though Bascomb had numerous chances, he chose to stay. This article is one of the harshest accountings of Bascomb I have ever seen. I do not know how much of it is accurate. Below is the transcription of the article. 

The Butte Miner
Butte, Montana
December 4, 1896

—

BAD MAN FROM COLORADO.

—

Bascom Smith, Brother of the Famous “Soapy” Smith, Makes His Bow.

     

Bascom Smith, bad man from Colorado, and brother of Col. Jefferson Randolph Smith, better known throughout the west as “Soapy” Smith, has turned up in Butte and it is not unlikely that the police will have as much trouble with Bascom as the authorities of Denver have during the past four years.
     Colorado is very glad to lose Bascom. The atmosphere in Denver got a little too sultry for “Soapy” about two years ago. He was wanted on a charge of flim-flamming a “guy” out of several thousand. “Soapy” disappeared with his sudden wealth and was afterwards heard from in old Mexico. Since then he has given the Queen City a very wide berth.
     As a confidence man and now and then gun player “Soapy” was king of the rollers in Colorado for years. Bascom Smith, who has unexpectedly honored Butte with his presence, worked in “Soapy's” team for a time but his art got to coarse, so his slick brother deserted him. Bascom in other words used his gun on a man down there and sent him to a swift account. He was tried in the district court and served a slight sentence. He figured in other gun plays and came near breaking up “Soapy” in business. For genuine toughness Bascom has many marks against his name on the criminal blotter of that city.
     His first bow to Butte was in the role of a person who subsists on the earnings of a low woman. Officer Griffith arrested the man on complaint of Elsie Edwards. She says that Smith has been living with her both in Denver and Butte. They came to this city two weeks ago and since that time Smith has spent over $100, earned by the woman, drinking it up over the bar of a Galena street saloon. She complains of ill-treatment, more particularly described as threats to kill, and several beatings.
     Whether the woman's story is true or not, such brutal treatment would be nothing else than a repetition of the man's wild career in Denver. He was taken before Justice Holland and released on bonds of $100, which were furnished by Edmund Levi. Smith will enter his plea this morning. In the meantime Elsie Edwards is in absolute dread that Smith will take her life, but the police are apprised of his history and will keep an eye on the bad man from Colorado.

—

Points to consider

• Soapy was not wanted ('about two years ago') "on a charge of flim-flamming a guy out of several thousand." Both he and Bascomb were awaiting trial for the assault on John Hughes, proprietor of the Arcade restaurant, saloon and gaming rooms in Denver.
• It is well-known that Bascomb "worked in 'Soapy's' team for a time," but did "his art get to coarse, so his slick brother [Soapy] desert him?" I don't believe that this is true. Soapy always backed his brother.  
  
• "Bascom in other words used his gun on a man down there and sent him to a swift account. He was tried in the district court and served a slight sentence. He figured in other gun plays and came near breaking up 'Soapy' in business." I believe the article is referring to Bascomb's killing of Harry Smith in Denver, June 23, 1893. Bascomb got off using the self-defense plea, and there were enough witnesses to back it up the story.
  

After this article was published, Bascomb was arrested, held for a few days, and then discharged (see post March 26, 2021).

Bascomb Smith

March 26, 2021

June 23, 2020
September 24, 2020

March 23, 2019

September 22, 2015

September 20, 2015

May 4, 2014

August 1, 2011

 

Bascomb Smith: pages 22, 41-42, 67, 75-76, 88-89, 92, 120-22, 139, 143, 162-63, 165, 167, 169, 176, 178, 182, 214, 247, 264, 273-75, 336, 340, 352, 355, 361, 363, 367, 370-77, 381-86, 391-99, 403-05, 408-09, 412, 420-23, 519, 554-55, 584, 588-89, 594. 

"And when I die,
don't bury me deep;
leave one hand free
to fleece the sheep."

—From the film, Honky Tonk (MGM, 1941).