From Boniface to Bank Burglar; Or, The Price of Persecution / How a Successful Business Man, Through the Miscarriage of Justice, Became a Notorious Bank Looter

by George M. White

Daylight had begun to show and a number of passengers, anxious to get a first glimpse of America, were on deck when Irving came aboard. Several men were grouped on the saloon deck, among whom was George Macdonnell. He expected Irving would make a sagacious move and was not surprised when he saw the police boat making for the ship. He was ready to pass over eighty thousand dollars and more in gilt-edged bonds to the chief of detectives, having great confidence in the result. The instant Irving and Farley set eyes on the forger they went up to him. The latter made the arrest, while the former, crowding near, received a package from the forger, which he deftly slipped in his pocket. Just as the arrest was formally made known, the chief of the Pinkertons came to the group. He made but a feeble protest. He realized that it was his play to await developments. Honest motives had been defeated by the avarice of those paid to defend the rights of the people. No one was more delighted over Irving’s victory than the forger himself. Nevertheless, he didn’t tell, even the police, that on board of the ship, was his small trunk containing nearly one hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars. He would communicate with his sister, through his forger friend, George Wilkes, and have her get the trunk at the custom-house.

To say that Jim Irving was happy scarcely expresses his state of satisfaction over the defeat of the Pinkertons. Some time after this experience, in speaking to me of the agency men, he said: “As long as I’m at the head of the Detective Bureau, it will be a cold day when the Pinkertons get the drop on me in making arrests. They may have the whip-hand in Chicago, but not in the city of New York.”

All hands came to the city with the ship, and before the close of the day Macdonnell was securely detained in Ludlow Street Jail; and not many hours had elapsed before the Bank of England’s legal representatives here had extradition proceedings on foot.

I know whereof I speak when I say that the fight to take Macdonnell back to England was one of the sensations of the day. It had its upper current of interest which came to the public attention, but there was an under current of which I had personal knowledge, and to that I will turn the attention of my friends.

Macdonnell engaged Somerville and Mott, of 27 Chambers Street, to defend him against extradition. This law firm was the legal adviser of Colonel Hiram Whiteley, the Secret Service chief whose acquaintance I’d made through the attempted sale of the ten-dollar bank-notes stolen at Washington. Somerville and Mott decided to use Whiteley in the interest of Macdonnell because of his great influence with high United States officials. Mr. Somerville consulted with Colonel Whiteley, with the result that there was a studious examination of the extradition clause under which the opposing attorneys expected to send the prisoner back to England. It was decided that this clause didn’t quite cover the case, yet there was considerable doubt as to the outcome. George Wilkes, who had been with the forger band in its early operations in London, but who had scented danger and returned to America in season to escape the result of the exposure, saw Macdonnell in Ludlow Street, and it was agreed to consult with me. He and Wilkes knew that I had considerable influence with Mr. Somerville, who was my attorney, and also that I had a fair acquaintance with Colonel Whiteley. Indeed, in the two years past my friendship with Whiteley had ripened wonderfully. Accordingly Wilkes came to see me and detailed the circumstances. I asked him if Macdonnell had any secrets which could be given to the United States government, in which case I said I believed that Colonel Whiteley would interest himself to an extent not yet indicated to me.

“Whiteley is a good fellow,” said I, “and will do anything reasonable to make himself solid with the administration at Washington, provided he can keep his skirts clear.”

“I don’t think that Mac would squeal—in fact, I know he won’t,” said Wilkes, decisively; “so it don’t look like doing anything on that score.”

“Tush for that,” I replied; “I’ll tell Whiteley that Macdonnell has important information about a five-hundred-dollar treasury-note plate that is missing, which I know is giving the government a lot of trouble. On that ground he’ll make a fight for Mac’s release on bail as a reward for the information. Once out on bail, and the rest will not be a hard job you can rest assured.”

With this understanding I saw Colonel Whiteley at his office in Bleecker Street, not far from Police Headquarters, and told him I believed Macdonnell had information of the missing treasury plate of which he was in search; that in the event the information didn’t pan out, there were several thousands of dollars in the deal for him anyway. With the incentive that he might add to his influence at Washington by discovering a plate from which counterfeit money was being spread abroad, together with the fact that there would be a fat roll of money in the bargain, Whiteley agreed to take energetic steps in the matter. At his first chance he went to Washington and placed the subject before an attorney highly versed in international law and who was a personal friend of George H. Williams, the United States Attorney-general. The colonel also consulted with members of the Department of Justice and, in fact, investigated at great length into the merits of the case. He returned with the report that the consensus of opinion of the Washington authorities was that the case, if properly handled before the courts, would result in favor of Macdonnell. In fact, the colonel made it plain that Attorney-general Williams would advise the Department of Justice that an extradition warrant in the case could not legally issue. I doubt not that great lengths would have been traversed in order to obtain any, almost inconsequential, information of the missing treasury plate. The mere construing of an enigmatical treaty clause was as nothing. The Treasury Department was in a heap of worry over the plate, not to mention others from which the counterfeiters were ever sending forth treasury notes to the loss of the United States. The recovery of the five-hundred-dollar plate alone would be worth the price of Macdonnell’s freedom, a dozen times over. Charles Ballard was serving a thirty-year sentence in Albany, New York, for turning work from this plate; but where was the plate? It had been so industriously used that it was becoming a menace to the financial market. Ballard had been offered a pardon if he would disclose its hiding-place, but he had scornfully thrown the pardon, so to speak, in the very face of Uncle Sam.

Colonel Whiteley so wrought up the interest of the Washington authorities with my story of Macdonnell’s alleged information that he was empowered to offer almost any terms; was commanded, in fact, to exhaust every plausible means to obtain the coveted secret. Colonel Whiteley told me that he’d be sure to obtain the prisoner’s release on bail, provided there was any kind of chance of getting a clew to the plate.