A LEAF FROM A SPECIAL AGENT’S NOTE-BOOK.
In the months of April and May, 1861, a large number of registered letters from points in the State of New York, passing through the New York and Philadelphia offices to Egg Harbor City and other places in that section of New Jersey, failed to reach their destination. Before Mr. C. A. Walborn took charge of the office at Philadelphia, the attention of special agent Mr. S. B. Row had been drawn to these losses by the late lamented Mr. James Holbrook, who was the oldest special agent in the employ of the post-office department. In June, Mr. Row went to New York City, and had a consultation with Mr. Holbrook; and, although they differed in opinion as to the precise locality where the trouble probably existed, it was determined to put through some decoy-letters. One of these letters “turned up missing,” but, for reasons not necessary to repeat here, nothing was said about it then, but Mr. Row was perfectly satisfied that the abstraction of letters took place in the Philadelphia post-office; and, after an interview with one of the clerks whom he had taken into his confidence, suspicions were directed to Franklin M. Reed. Reed was an old post-office clerk, who, with an intermission of perhaps twelve months, had been in the office for twenty odd years. Efforts were frequently made to “trap” Reed, but none of them succeeded, until, on the evening of the 8th of August, a “decoy” was jointly prepared by Mr. Row and Mr. William M. Ireland, the present chief clerk (1865) of the Philadelphia post-office.
This decoy had all the appearance of a regular registered letter from New York, and was addressed to an imaginary Mrs. Green, at Atlantic City, from her devoted husband, who enclosed her two dollars to relieve her present wants, and promising to visit her at the end of the week. This letter was, at a favorable moment, slipped into the New York package, which Reed was then about “casing up.” Next morning Mr. Ireland examined the Atlantic City mail, and found that the letter for the imaginary Mrs. Green was missing. At 7 A.M. Mr. Reed quit work. A short time previous, Mr. Row had seen Mr. Ireland, who was acting under the instructions of the former, and, on learning the condition of affairs, it was determined to wait for Mr. Reed at the corner of Third and Carter’s Streets, when he should make his appearance there on leaving the office. Soon Reed came out, when he was accosted by the special agent, who informed him that he required about five minutes of his time in the postmaster’s private room. On his way there, Reed drew out his watch several times; but he was too closely watched to admit of his dropping any thing on his way back. On entering the room, Mr. Row told him that a certain letter was missing, and that, as it had last been in his hands, it became his painful duty to search him. Reed quietly submitted; and in his watch-fob was found the money which had been enclosed in the Green letter.
Reed was taken before United States Commissioner Hazlitt, and, after a hearing, was committed to prison in default of $3000 bail. On the 20th of August the United States District Court convened, and the grand jury found a true bill on the indictment. On the 27th Reed was tried, and the jury rendered a verdict of “guilty.” Reed was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment in the Eastern Penitentiary of Pennsylvania.
THE YOUTHFUL MAIL-ROBBER.
Some time in the year 1860, a man by the name of Pardon Barrett made his appearance at Jackson Corners, Susquehanna county, Pennsylvania. He was a shoemaker by trade, and opened a shop for business. He had no family, kept bachelor’s hall, and associated very little with men, simply confining himself to business relations with them. He, however, seemed to take pleasure in the company of boys, and, by insinuating himself into their good graces, soon succeeded in making his domicile a sort of rendezvous, or place of meeting, for a select few, upon whom he seemed to have some special design. In the winter of 1862-63, Barrett’s shop became a sort of pleasure-place for these youngsters,—pleasure to eat oyster-suppers, play cards and dice, until he obtained an influence over them that their parents could never have obtained either for good or evil.
Were we writing an essay on juvenile depravity, one of the strongest arguments used would be that of parents losing sight of the vacant hours of their children. Associations formed at these times have not unfrequently laid the foundation of their ruin. This will be illustrated as we proceed.
Among the lads who visited Barrett was Henry W. Fletcher, a bright, intelligent boy of thirteen years: he was the son of the village postmaster. Barrett seemed to have a more than ordinary fondness for this boy,—associated and talked with him wherever and whenever he met him. It was for the purpose of cementing this friendship still closer, and strengthening the influence he was gradually obtaining over him, that the oyster-suppers and card-playing were inaugurated. No one would have taken such pains with young Fletcher, mastering his timidity, establishing a friendship, and ministering to his youthful pleasures, if he had not something in view,—some purpose, some object. Those who have read Oliver Twist cannot have forgotten the character of “Old Fagin,” and how he gathered around him a number of boys and taught them the art and mystery of stealing. Barrett, no doubt, had read Oliver Twist, and, as we shall see, imitated his plan and followed his example in preparing boys for the gallows.
On the occasion of one of the oyster-parties, Barrett suggested to young Fletcher that, as our soldiers were sending money home, he might, if he were sharp, get some of it. Fletcher started: he could not at first comprehend how, honestly, he could hold the soldiers’ money. “Easy enough,” remarked Barrett; “by taking the letters out of the post-office.” An associate of Barrett’s, and perhaps the only one he had, was present. For reasons not necessary to give here, we conceal his name. This man urged the boy also to commit this serious offence of robbing the post-office, but stated, as if he possessed the power, “that he would see him out of the scrape if he was detected.” The imagination of the boy was excited by the programme laid out by these villains,—how they would take him with them to Buffalo, then across the lake into Canada, “where,” as Barrett remarked, “nobody could find them.” Then they would proceed to the Western States, seek a wild, retired place in the forest, build a hut, and pass their time in hunting, fishing, and other wild-wood sports. To a lad naturally sprightly, romantic, and possessing more than ordinary intelligence, such a prospect was quite fascinating. All arch-villains, whenever they want tools to work with, invariably excite the imagination, which oversteps the bounds of discretion, and carries the victim on to his ruin. When Aaron Burr planned his great scheme of revolutionizing the South, and, no doubt, with an eye to the subjugation of the North, he selected out a wild enthusiast, one Herman Blennerhassett, for a sort of leader. Blennerhassett was an adventurer, romantic and chivalric: he lived on an island of the Ohio River, still retaining his name. Here he built a splendid mansion, and possessing, it is said, great wealth, he expended vast sums of money in decorating both the mansion and the island. The ruins of the former are still to be seen.[51] Like the man Barrett, Aaron Burr and Blennerhassett enticed to their island a number of young men, whose imaginations became excited by the descriptive scenes given them by these arch-traitors of Mexico and the South,—gardens of beauty and Golconda’s of wealth. High commissions were promised them; but the bubble burst, their plans were detected, the parties arrested and tried for high treason.
Barrett pictured to young Fletcher the wild sports of the far West, and how they would enjoy themselves when once settled in some vast wilderness. Three months, however, elapsed before young Fletcher consented, and it was in the early part of May, while his father, the postmaster, was absent at New York, that he commenced operations. The first step he made in his career of crime yielded twenty dollars. When this was shown to Barrett, he remarked, with a friendly smile, “Good! you have made a fine beginning; keep it going, and the wild-wood sports will soon be our pastime.”