"I FIRED POINT BLANK, AND DOWN HE WENT AS IF FELLED BY LIGHTNING."—Page 334."I FIRED POINT BLANK, AND DOWN HE WENT AS IF FELLED BY LIGHTNING."—Page334.
I took a long walk on the beach to think over the situation. I was alarmed over the arrest of Noyes, which I knew ought not to have occurred if the proper precautions had been taken, but I concluded that at the worst his arrest only meant for him a brief incarceration.
I knew that no human power and no fear could ever make him betray us. Two things never entered my calculations at all; that is, that my right name would ever transpire, or that George and Mac would ever, by any possibility, be brought into question for the fraud.
So I came back from my walk with my plans outlined. It was to remain quietly where we were for a fortnight longer, then take the steamer to Vera Cruz, go to the City of Mexico and there buy an estate, as I had originally proposed. Then, after a few months, leave my wife there and travel incog. through Northern Mexico and Texas, meet Mac and George and afterward return to Mexico.
Not a soul in all Europe knew I was in Cuba, and so long as my name did not transpire I was as safe in Cuba as if in the desert.
Consequently I determined to go on in the same way since our landing. In the mean while I would watch the papers, and if any signs of danger appeared I could take instant measures for my safety.
As the days passed the cable dispatches appearing in the papers increased in volume, and the papers everywhere had editorials, which, as a rule, were humorous or sarcastic, poking fun at the Britishers in general and the Old Lady of Threadneedle Street in particular. Then the comicpapers took it up, and from week to week published cartoons intended to be funny.
One of the funniest of these came out in one of the New York comics, which appeared after the mail arrived from London with the particulars of the simplicity of the bank officials in their dealings with the mysterious F.A. Warren. This full-page cartoon represented a young dude, seated on a mule, riding down a steep declivity.
At the bottom the devil stood, holding in the fingers of his extended hands a quantity of thousand-pound bank notes tempting Warren, and John Bull stood behind the mule, belaboring it with an umbrella and driving Warren down to the devil.
I tried to keep the papers from my wife, but one day she came home from a visit with a flushed face and eager to talk, and began telling me about some daring countryman of mine "who had the audacity to rob the Bank of England," and "who ought to have a whipping." On several occasions Americans there asked my opinion as to who the party could be.
I always told them he was some clever young scamp, with plenty of money of his own, who did it for the excitement of the thing and from a wish to take a rise out of John Bull.
The next French steamer for Mexico was advertised to land at Havana for passengers and mails for Vera Cruz in a few days, and I determined to sail by her. Soon after my arrival I had formed the acquaintance of a wealthy young countryman of mine from Savannah by the name of Gray. We soon became fast friends, and I had him out to dinner nearly every day. He had a warm friend in Senor Andrez, a rich young Cuban planter, and had accepted an invitation to visit his coffee plantation in the Isle of Pines, the largest of all that immense body of islets and keys of the south coast of Cuba in the Carribean Sea, one of the loveliest tropicalisles imaginable, and Gray insisted upon my making one of the party.
It was proposed to spend a week on the island, and to take three days in going and coming. But if I went then I would be unable to sail on the steamer of the 25th, and would have to wait another week.
One day Gray brought Senor Andrez to dinner, along with a common friend, a Senor Alvarez. All three joined in imploring me to make one of the party, promising sport as novel as good; said the wild boars were plentiful; that we would have two days' shark fishing, turning turtles and hunting their eggs, and could vary it by a slave hunt, the jungle and some of the smaller islands being "full of runaways," and as they were by law wild beasts we might be lucky enough to shoot a few of them—shoot, not capture, as the planters knew that a runaway slave who had tasted the joys of freedom if caught was useless as a slave. So, as a matter of sport, as well as a warning to other slaves, they organized yearly hunts to bag a score or two. But so great is the depravity of the human heart that these wretches, in their desperate wickedness, objected to being shot, and at times were guilty of the enormity of shooting back again. History records how, on certain occasions, they did so with such good effect that the hunted became hunters; but these were rare events.
After long urging I consented. At the time there were only two short railways in all Cuba. We were to cross the island to the south coast, and there embark for the Isle of Pines in a boat owned by our host, which would be in waiting. The railway would take us to the little hamlet of San Felipe, some forty miles south, and there we were to take horses to the seaport town of Cajio. We were to start on Saturday, two days ahead. My wife did not relish my going, and I disliked it more than she did, but for totally different reasons. Mine were that, as a matter of prudence,I ought to recall my consent and remain in Havana until steamer day, and then sail without fail to Mexico. But fearing the ridicule of my friends, I went, persuading myself that there could be no danger and that everything in London was buried in so dense a fog bank that the detectives would struggle in vain to find a way out of it or any clue to our identity.
Had I known of the clever work of the Pinkerton brothers in London and the discoveries in Paris I should have been ill at ease; but had I known that Capt. John Curtin—then a member of the Pinkerton staff in New York, but now (1895.) of San Francisco—had with perfectly marvelous intuition and rare detective skill let daylight into the whole plot, and had reported to his chief that whenever F. A. Warren was discovered he would prove to be Austin Bidwell; I say if I had known this, instead of going off on a ten days' pleasure jaunt into an isolated corner of the world I should have taken instant flight, leaving Cuba, not by the usual modes of departure, but by sailing boat, and alone, for one of the Mexican ports.
Capt. Curtin had been detailed to work on the New York end of the case, to look for clues. It seemed a hopeless task. He is a warm friend of mine now, after twenty years, and has long forgiven me for the bullet I lodged in him in 1873. A few years after arresting me in the West Indies he went to San Francisco and started a private inquiry office of his own at 328 Montgomery street. When, after twenty years' incarceration, I arrived there one lovely May in 1892, he was waiting for me at the ferry, and gave me warm greetings, and as hearty congratulations, too, as any man could give another; then introduced me to his friends everywhere, and, in fact, from the hour of my arrival until my departure, three months afterward, was never tired of doing me a service and forwarding my business, so that by his kind offices I made a great success out of what, byreason of the great financial depression, might otherwise have proved a failure. But as Capt. Curtin, after effecting my arrest, having recovered from his wound, was one of the four who took me to England, I will wait until a later chapter to tell how it was he discovered my name and located me in Cuba.
On Saturday morning our party of four, accompanied by a following of black fellows and half a dozen dogs, set out by train. Before reaching San Felipe our bones had a shaking. The roadbed was execrable, the trucks of the cars were without springs, and to me it seemed as if we must leave the rails at any moment.
In Havana we regarded Don Andrez as a good fellow, but upon our arrival at San Felipe he had grown into a man of importance. When we came to Cajio he had grown into a person of distinction, and at the island he had swollen into a local Caesar. At San Felipe, a mere hamlet, horses were waiting for us and mules for the baggage, but before setting out we went to a nearby hacienda and sat down to what was simply the best lunch of which I ever partook.
The town was chiefly remarkable for the number of its fighting cocks. At the hacienda there were dozens, each in its separate compartment—regarded the same as horses and game dogs are in England and America—and half the black boys we met were carrying game birds.
At last, starting for Cajio, the road soon degenerated into a mere track, which led through some barren hills with scanty growths of a species of oak without underbrush, and here and there a sprinkling of cacti, and in the lower reaches between the hills grew dense green walls of Spanish bayonet.
We were crossing Cuba at its narrowest part, and from San Felipe to Cajio was only some thirty miles. After fifteen miles we came into the fertile coast belt and passed a number of deserted sugar plantations where tropic vegetation was trying to cover up the work of ruin wrought byman. Residences and sugar houses destroyed by fire were very much in evidence. To my surprise I learned that bodies of insurgents—who then held and had held for six years nearly the entire eastern province of Santiago de Cuba and Puerto Principe, and part of the extreme western province of Pinar del Rio—had only a few weeks before landed by night at the port La Playa de Batabano, fifteen miles away, and with the cry of "Free Cuba and death to the Spaniard!" had blotted out the town and then marched into the heart of the country, burning houses, killing the whites and calling upon the slaves to join them in freeing Cuba. Many did, and terrible were their excesses, and terribly did they pay for these. The Spanish soldiers and loyal Cuban volunteers closed in upon them, and at the little hamlet of San Marcos, where we halted and examined the too evident signs of the battle and massacre that followed, they made their last stand, but were no match for their well-armed and disciplined foes. After a desperate struggle they were overpowered, and every surviving soul was butchered by the infuriated soldiers. It was better so. Had they been spared it would have only been for the moment, for by official decree of the Captain-General of Cuba, indorsed by the Madrid Government, every inhabitant within the insurrectionary line, without regard to age or sex, was doomed to death without form of trial.
At San Marcos we made a halt to view the scene of the fight and examined the heaps of ashes where the fires were kindled which consumed the bodies of the slain. Two or three were my countrymen. At the time it was quite the thing for venturesome Americans to go and join the rebels and help the fight for "Cuba libre." For some years every few days notices would appear in the press about some Americans having been shot for joining or attempting to join the rebels. This went on until the affair of the steamer Virginus, when her crew and passengers, to the number of150, were shot, the steamer having been captured close to the shore and about to land men and guns. Then our Government awoke and forbade Spanish officials to shoot Americans without trial.
As I stood there curiously examining the marks of the conflict, or examining some part of an unconsumed bone, I little thought that in a very few days I myself would be a fugitive, creeping through jungles and over tropic plains, seeking to join the comrades of the men on whose ashes I was then treading, to aid their fight for free Cuba.
Perhaps my subsequent fate made me ponder over my happy life in Cuba, and compare the horrible misery of my prison life, with its hardships and degrading detail, with the brightness of those days, when love, obedience, wealth and luxury were mine.
But in those long years, when in their gloom and depression I was fighting to keep off insanity by ignoring the dreadful present and dwelling on the past, no incident of all my life on the island haunted me more than this at San Marcos. Every detail was photographed on my brain, and as I recalled that blackened spot strewn with ashes soddened by tropical rains, soon to be all the greener for the fertilizing tragedy, many a thousand times I said, "Would to God my ashes were mingled with the dead there."
Soon after leaving San Marcos, striking into the jungle, the road became so narrow that we had to go single file. I found the silence of the tropical forest impressive, and think it had its effect on us all—even the negroes and dogs moved on, making no sound. Although novel scenes, yet I was glad when 5 o'clock came and we emerged from the jungle on to the coast road. It was sandy, but well traveled. Another mile and we were in Cajio, and the Caribbean, blue and lovely as a dream, lay spread before us, with hundreds of palm crowned islets and coral bays, all with sandy beaches of dazzling whiteness.
Senor Andrez had a house here, and as they had notice of our coming everything was prepared for our reception. Entering the house, we were served with black coffee and thin rice cakes fried. Gray and I wanted a swim before supper in the waters, which looked very tempting, but it would have been a breach of etiquette to indulge then—and, by the way, there is a strange repugnance to water inherent in the Spanish nature, there being no bathhouses in Spain, they say, and I believe it. Gray and I, during the next few days, were in and out of the water at all hours, but could never persuade any one else to try the experiment of a swim in the warm water of the Caribbean. At the house, or when out in boats, we frequently invited some of the company to join us in a plunge, but none ever accepted the invitation. We are told on good authority that "our virtues depend on the interpretation of the times," and one might add "on the interpretation of our nation." The Anglo-Saxon loves soap and water and plenty of it; the Spaniard does not. But this contrast may mean nothing in our favor; there may be a reason for it, racial probably, but possibly climatic.
Supper came, and it was a treat. Gray and I noted that in suitability of material to the purpose intended, and in cookery, it excelled anything in our experience. Cafe Riche and Tortoni's were not in it. We were curious to see the cook. She was ordered in for our inspection, a sober, sad-faced negress, angular, bony, and, strangely enough, knew only a few words of Spanish, her language being some African dialect, Africa being her natal place, as it, indeed, was of most of the slaves.
What views of life, what views of the Christian world most of these slaves must have! Torn from their homes, leaving their slaughtered family on the ashes of their homes, and carried off to toil and wear out the only life nature will ever give them—for what? To toil amid hunger and abusetoo foul to name in order that the Christian robber may have gold to gratify his desire.
"ANOTHER SECOND WOULD HAVE ENDED MY LIFE."—Page 371."ANOTHER SECOND WOULD HAVE ENDED MY LIFE."—Page371.
She was evidently alarmed over the summons—it might mean anything—she was unused to the coin of compliment; but we gave it freely, however, and the next morning each of us did better, and when departing placed a sovereign in her hand and made Senor Andrez promise to be good to her.
Our host grew his own tobacco and made his own cigars. These were famous even in Havana, and Gray and I enjoyed them that evening. A number of grass-woven hammocks were swung under a roof in front of the house. It was delightful lying there watching the phosphorescent waves rippling or breaking on the beach under the light of a full moon and listening to the chatter or the songs of the black fellows who swarmed around while smoking cigars worth the smoking. The negro children, shrill-voiced and loud, were very much in evidence.
The air was delightful, and following the custom of the country we slept in the hammocks without undressing.
The next morning, under a sunrise sky, which in its glowing colors looked like the New Jerusalem, Gray and I made a break for the glorious water that rippled on the beach. What a swim we had! We were the only humans visible. All other unfeathered bipeds were asleep, and we varied our bath by wandering around the beach in a state of nature, viewing things generally, but a turtle pond held us fascinated. Stakes had been driven down inclosing a space, and upward of twenty great turtles were prisoners, waiting apparently with the greatest of patience to be devoured—that being, so far as I can see, the ultimate destination of all life—that huge procession to the stomach. The rocks tell us that it began a good while ago, and it has kept up with crowded ranks ever since. When the missionary landing in Fiji anxiously inquired of the boss cannibal gentlemanwhere his predecessor might be sojourning, he was promptly informed that he had "gone into the interior." To "go into the interior" is the decree fate writes in her book of doom and copies on the birth certificate of all the breathers of the world.
SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN, View from Rio de Janeiro.SUGAR LOAF MOUNTAIN, View from Rio de Janeiro.
I was very fortunate in my servant Nunn, he being devoted to me, a resolute fellow as well, and thoroughly trustworthy. He felt very badly over my leaving him behind in Havana. Nor would I have done so under ordinary circumstances.
The day before leaving on the trip, taking him aside, but not wishing to actually disclose anything, I talked in a very impressive, grave way, instructing him to leave Havana secretly after telling his mistress that I had ordered him to go to Matanzas, a city forty miles east by rail. He was to bring all the New York papers, meet me at Cajio and not let a soul know his destination, but be there awaiting my arrival from the Isle of Pines the following Sunday week. If in the mean time anything unusual, no matter what, happened, then he was instantly to depart for Cajio, there hire a boat and crew and come after me, not to mind expense and not to lose a moment's time. Nunn was one of those wise men who know how to obey orders without self-questionings as to the whys and wherefores.
I had secured gun licenses from the authorities, and, giving them to Nunn, ordered him to bring a breech-loader and a brace of revolvers with him.
During my stay in the Isle of Pines I would be out of reach of the outside world. If on meeting Nunn I found from the papers he brought that there was any sign of dangerI would not return to Havana, but would secure a boat, provision it, set sail alone for some port in Central America and send my servant back after my wife.
At 10 o'clock our party set out in an open-decked cargo boat from Cajio for San Jose, seventy miles across the water and on the west coast of the island. San Jose was one of the half-dozen plantations belonging to our host, the chief product being coffee, and on this one there were 130 slaves.
We had a motley cargo. Twenty black fellows, dogs, turtles, fighting cocks, two trained pigs, a good-sized snake that answered to the name of Jacko and had the run of the ship. Ship, men, women and young darkies, trained pigs and everything except we three guests were the absolute property of our host.
We were passing through the gate of the Gulf of Matamano. The bottom was so white and the water so clear that we could see distinctly all the wondrous marine life beneath. Ashore in the thick forests all seemed to be dead, but here in the water and beneath the surface all was teeming with life. Flocks of sea fowl were in the air or whitened the rocks which everywhere rose above the waters, and innumerable little islets rested like lovely pictures in the blue setting of the sea.
At one of the loveliest, called Cayos de Tana, with a wide fringe of white beach, we landed; that is, our boat ran toward it until the keel stuck in the sand, when a dozen black fellows sprang over into the water, and, taking us white trash on their shoulders, carried us ashore. Once there we set out to find turtle eggs, and soon found heaps of sand which, when scraped away, revealed the eggs in dozens. We took away about a bushel, but they had a rancid flavor, so Gray and I backed out of our promise to eat them, as did Senors Andrez and Mondago.
The man in charge of the boat was a skillful sailor, and,having a fine breeze, we rushed through the water at a great rate. At last, after a day of novel enjoyment, just as the short twilight of the tropics was fading out, we ran alongside of the little pier of San Jose and were welcomed with loud shouts and gun shots from about a hundred gaudily attired slaves, who were excited and seemingly glad over the return of their master, this being Sunday and a holiday.
Did any of my readers ever think what the rest of Sunday is to the toilers of the earth? If Christ left no other legacy to the Christian world but that happy day of rest, then must we still bless and praise him as the Mighty Benefactor of the world, the Saviour and glorious hero of the workingman. For nineteen years I toiled, exposed to every storm that blew, and was sustained through all the six days' misery by the blessed knowledge that Sunday, with its rest, was never far off. And when the Sunday morning dawned and the happy consciousness filled my mind that for one day at least I was free from toil, my heart filled with gratitude to the Galilean carpenter, who, by his gracious deeds and genius, had so impressed the hearts of men that for his sake they had taken the seventh day of the Hebrew and bequeathed it as a day of rest to all the toiling generations of the sons of men. The Roman Empire, which overshadowed the world and held the nations in subjection, knew no day of rest, and to-day the toiling millions of China never wake to say: "This is a day of rest on which I can turn my thoughts to other things than toil."
I must not here enter into details of that week of rare sport and keen enjoyment in the Isle of Pines. We went shark fishing by day and tipping turtles in the moonlight by night, when they came ashore to deposit their eggs in the sand. One never-ending source of enjoyment to the Cubans was the battles of the fighting cocks. I had got over some of my repugnance to the sport, and enjoyed it almost as wellas the cocks themselves. How soon one learns to do in Rome as do the Romans!
The week had come to an end, and, although importuned by my host to delay my departure, my anxiety as to the state of affairs in the outside world was too great to postpone my return to the mainland. So, after a rousing send-off from every one on the plantation, I departed. Just as the sun was flinging its dyes over the clouds and waters, one week from the Sunday of my arrival at San Jose, I was sailing into the little bay of Cajio. Gray was to remain another week, and I was returning in a small sloop manned by two of Senor Andrez's men. I found Nunn waiting for me on the beach. He handed me a letter from my wife and said everything was well at home. Opening the letter I found an earnest appeal to return at once. Going to the hacienda near by I took the bundle of New York and London papers Nunn had brought. I went to my room, and, opening the Herald I was amazed to see the storm over the Bank of England business and the great desire to discover the mysterious Warren.
I felt that the time had come when it would no longer be prudent for me to live under my right name. It was an easy matter to invent a name and live under it, and I determined to do so, for a time at least, until after I saw how matters developed. But I could not do this in Havana, for in case of using an alias it would be necessary to take my wife into my confidence. She was sure to discover the matter sooner or later, and it was better for her to learn the miserable truth from my own lips than to leave the discovery to come to her through the public press.
In Mexico I should really have nothing to fear, even if it was known I was there. So, after some cogitation, I determined to return to Havana, say good-bye to all our friends and embark as soon as possible for Vera Cruz. I was impatient to set off at once, but it was both dangerous anddifficult work to go through the jungle by night, so telling Nunn to be ready to start at sunrise I went to bed.
At dawn we set out and did not halt until we reached San Marcos, with its gloomy memorial of human savagery. After an hour's halt we set out and arrived at San Felipe in time to catch the train to Havana. On arriving there at dusk I sent my servant to inform his mistress of my safe arrival while I called on Don Fernando at the hotel. His frank and hearty reception told me at once that he had heard nothing, and he knows pretty well everything going on in the town. From the hotel I drove to the police barracks and called on the colonel of police, with the same result, which satisfied me beyond all doubt that however the storm blew in London or New York there was not a single cloud on the horizon in Havana. But it was soon to blow a hurricane. I had a very happy meeting with my wife, and found her the picture of health and happiness.
As I looked in her face, beaming with confidence and faith, I realized how hard it would be to tell her the terrible truth, and what a shock it would be to her when she discovered the husband she believed the soul of honor stood in danger of a prison. Yet I was tolerably certain she would forgive me upon my promise never to do wrong again.
She had sent out invitations to dinner for Thursday to twenty friends. There was then a steamer in the harbor advertised to sail in two days for Mexico, and I had thought of going by her. Had we, this book would never have been written.
As invitations were out for Thursday, I concluded to wait for Saturday's steamer, but determined to sail on that day without fail.
Under our system of housekeeping a dinner party was a simple thing. We merely had to notify our landlord how many guests we expected and the thing was done, so far as we were concerned. Don Fernando would send his hotelsteward down to the house with reinforcements of cooks and waiters, and my wife had simply to usher the guests into the dining room and out again. Don Fernando's supernumeraries did the rest. On the day of our dinner I was strongly tempted to give some hint to my wife that I was in some way entangled in a web, but as she was so happy I could not do it, but resolved to wait until we were settled in Mexico, and then to tell her a little, but not all the truth.
My wife, all unconscious of the frightful calamity impending, entered upon the last half day of happiness she was to know for many long years. The same statement would be true of myself. As the guests were arriving I was in a happy vein, and in the same happy frame of mind sat down to dinner. Twenty happy mortals, but not one divined the termination of that dinner party, least of all the proud and happy hostess. It was a great success, and at 8 o'clock was drawing to a close. The long windows were open, while the warm breeze from the nearby gulf was pouring through the room. The clock had just chimed the quarter when there came a sudden rush of feet over the veranda and through the hall. All eyes were fixed on the open door leading to the hall, when an eager, resolute-faced man, evidently an American, stepped with a firm pace into the room, followed by a dozen civilians and soldiers. With a quick glance over the company his eyes rested on me, and coming direct to my chair, while my guests gazed in amazement, he bowed and said in a low voice: "Mr. Bidwell, I am sorry to disturb your dinner party or to annoy you in any way, but I am forced to tell you I have a warrant in my pocket for your arrest upon a charge of forgery upon the Bank of England. The warrant is signed by the Captain-General of Cuba, everything is in due form, and you are my prisoner. I am William Pinkerton."
BENEATH OLD BAILEY COURT ROOM—COURT ADJOURNED FOR LUNCH.BENEATH OLD BAILEY COURT ROOM—COURT ADJOURNED FOR LUNCH.
Every man who enters the arena and joins in the struggle of life has more or fewer takedowns in his history. Butmy wish is that between this hour and my last I may have no more takedowns so near the freezing point as this was. I shall never forget the look on my wife's face. First she gazed at the intruders with indignation, then turned to me with a look of eager expectation, as much as to say: "Wait till my husband raises his arm and you will all go down." But instead of seeing me rise, indignant and angry, driving the intruders out, she saw me talking quite calmly to Curtin. Then her face grew deadly white. None of the guests heard Pinkerton's words, but, as will be easily imagined, there was a painful silence, which I broke by standing up and saying that there was some unhappy mistake, that I was arrested upon the charge of furnishing arms to the insurrectionists in the eastern provinces. I requested my friends to withdraw at once, and everything would be explained on the morrow.
TRANSFERRED FROM DARTMOOR TO WOKING PRISONTRANSFERRED FROM DARTMOOR TO WOKING PRISON
There were five soldiers present, Mr. Crawford, the English Consul-General, Pinkerton and Captain John Curtin, my servant Nunn being in custody of the latter. It was a strange and unhappy scene, and every one felt extremely awkward and ill at ease, especially the writer. In the rear of the dining room was a large sitting room, where I kept my valuables in trunks and did my writing. I turned to Mr. P., and said: "Will you come in the other room?" "Certainly," he replied, without the slightest hesitation. The room was brilliantly lighted. Motioning him to a seat, I said:
"Will you have a glass of wine?"
"Yes, but I never drink anything but Cliquot," replied Mr. Pinkerton, pleasantly.
A servant brought in a bottle and glasses, and I turned the conversation upon the subject of money. The captain, being a stranger to me, guided by former experience with Irving & Co. I fancied he might be bribed. Sometimes the police are susceptible to this form of temptation, and Iwas at bay and desperate. I intended to offer him a fortune for a bribe. If he refused to take it I resolved to shoot him and dash out of the window, for at my elbow was an open drawer, with a loaded revolver ready at my hand.
I said: "You know the power and value of money?"
"Yes, and I need and want plenty of it."
Pointing to a trunk I said: "I have a fortune there. Sit where you are ten minutes, give no alarm, and I will give you $50,000."
Then a scene ensued that if put upon the stage would be deemed farfetched, if not incredible. When I said this the captain never moved a muscle, but looked at me seriously, earnestly, then dropped his eyes to the bottle. As he did so I placed my hand on the revolver. He took the bottle up, filled his glass, and, looking steadily at me, drank it off, and, replacing the glass on the stand, coolly remarked:
"Why, sir, that is $5,000 a minute!"
"Yes, and good pay, too," I said.
"But I won't have it!" he interjected, and sprang to his feet as he saw me make a movement; but I was too quick for him.
I fired point-blank, and down he went as if felled by lightning.
I rushed to the window, when the Venetians were torn violently down, and one of Curtin's subordinates, revolver in hand, sprang from the outer darkness through the window into the room, and the others came with the soldiers. My wife, too, white faced, rushed in from the dining room. A lively struggle followed, in which Curtin, having risen from the floor, joined. The struggle was soon over, leaving me a prisoner under close guard.
My bullet had struck the captain, breaking a rib and glancing off, but he was game, and when we shortly afterdeparted for the city he rode with me in the same carriage. I tried to soothe my wife's fears, but it was attempting the impossible, so we drove away to the city in three carriages, Mr. P. assuring my wife that I would sleep at the hotel.
By the time we arrived the news had spread among the American colony, and as the hotel was a sort of American club delegations of my acquaintances speedily arrived. All were loud in the denunciation of the outrage. Of course, they saw things on the surface only. Soon our Consul-General Torbet arrived, and assured me he would see that I should be treated with every consideration until such time as the unfortunate mistake was corrected.
That night I slept at the hotel with Curtin and his two companions for roommates. Mr. P. took his wound and close call very good naturedly, and said he did not blame me at all, but felt taken down to think I had got the drop on him. Early the next morning my friend, the chief of police, Col. Moreno de Vascos, called on me, indignant and angry that I should suffer such discourtesy. He was particularly indignant over the insult to himself in not being consulted, so that he could have sent me a note to call on him and explain. Then he turned to Pinkerton and told him to liberate me, as he would be responsible for me whenever wanted. But the captain knew what he was about, and knew his business too well and the backing he had to pay any attention to Col. Vascos. I claimed the protection of our Consul, but Torbet regretfully told me that on account of the orders Pinkerton bore from the State Department at Washington he was forced to consent to my detention, but he would not permit me to be kept in the ordinary prison. So about 12 o'clock next day I was transferred to the police barracks, and put into the lieutenant of police's room and a guard of soldiers placed over me.
The New York Herald of the next day contained the following:
(Editorial, New York Herald, Feb. 26, 1873.)"CUBAN AFFAIRS—BIDWELL'S IMPRISONMENT."The special telegraphic advices which we publish to-day in reference to the arrest and imprisonment at Havana of Bidwell, one of the parties accused of the recent forgeries on the Bank of England, are very interesting, touching the jurisdiction of the Island authorities in this matter. It appears that Bidwell was arrested at the request of the British Government on the supposition that he was a British subject; but it is represented that he is a citizen of the United States of America, and that his arrest in Cuba is not justified by any extradition treaty with England, nor by any authority, except that of the Captain-General, whose will over the Island is the supreme law. If it can be established that Bidwell is a citizen of the United States his case certainly calls for the intervention of the Secretary of State. The prisoner, it seems, desires a transfer to New York, which is perfectly natural, but we suspect that the international difficulties suggested touching his detention in Cuba will not materially improve his chances of escape. Such proceedings could be carried out in no other country than Cuba, where the Captain-General does not always act in accordance with law. Distinguished lawyers and judges of that city, in conversation with the Herald correspondent, denounced the act as being utterly illegal and without precedent."
(Editorial, New York Herald, Feb. 26, 1873.)
"The special telegraphic advices which we publish to-day in reference to the arrest and imprisonment at Havana of Bidwell, one of the parties accused of the recent forgeries on the Bank of England, are very interesting, touching the jurisdiction of the Island authorities in this matter. It appears that Bidwell was arrested at the request of the British Government on the supposition that he was a British subject; but it is represented that he is a citizen of the United States of America, and that his arrest in Cuba is not justified by any extradition treaty with England, nor by any authority, except that of the Captain-General, whose will over the Island is the supreme law. If it can be established that Bidwell is a citizen of the United States his case certainly calls for the intervention of the Secretary of State. The prisoner, it seems, desires a transfer to New York, which is perfectly natural, but we suspect that the international difficulties suggested touching his detention in Cuba will not materially improve his chances of escape. Such proceedings could be carried out in no other country than Cuba, where the Captain-General does not always act in accordance with law. Distinguished lawyers and judges of that city, in conversation with the Herald correspondent, denounced the act as being utterly illegal and without precedent."
(Cable dispatch to the London Times, March 3, 1873.)"Havana, Cuba, March 2, 1873."Great efforts are being made by the lawyers and prominent citizens here to obtain the release of Bidwell, supposed to be Warren. To-morrow the American Consul will demand his release on the ground that he is an American citizen. The British Consul-General, E. H. Crawford, is doing everything in his power to counteract these efforts. There is great excitement here over Bidwell's arrest and the popular sympathy is with him."(By cable from Havana to New York Herald, March 31, 1873.)"Bidwell, the alleged Bank of England forger, whose arrest caused so much excitement here, escaped by jumping from the second story balcony of the police barracks late last night in the presence of his guards. He was partly dressed at the time. Bidwell and his wife are greatly liked here, and no doubt his Havana friends, seeing the impossibility of counteracting by legal means the efforts of the British Consul to secure his extradition, planned the affair."It is the general opinion that John Bull has seen the last of Bidwell, there being dozens of planters in the district ready and willing to shelter him, which they can do effectually."
(Cable dispatch to the London Times, March 3, 1873.)
"Havana, Cuba, March 2, 1873.
"Great efforts are being made by the lawyers and prominent citizens here to obtain the release of Bidwell, supposed to be Warren. To-morrow the American Consul will demand his release on the ground that he is an American citizen. The British Consul-General, E. H. Crawford, is doing everything in his power to counteract these efforts. There is great excitement here over Bidwell's arrest and the popular sympathy is with him."
(By cable from Havana to New York Herald, March 31, 1873.)
"Bidwell, the alleged Bank of England forger, whose arrest caused so much excitement here, escaped by jumping from the second story balcony of the police barracks late last night in the presence of his guards. He was partly dressed at the time. Bidwell and his wife are greatly liked here, and no doubt his Havana friends, seeing the impossibility of counteracting by legal means the efforts of the British Consul to secure his extradition, planned the affair.
"It is the general opinion that John Bull has seen the last of Bidwell, there being dozens of planters in the district ready and willing to shelter him, which they can do effectually."
MAT-MAKING AT PENTONVILLE PRISON.MAT-MAKING AT PENTONVILLE PRISON.
So at last justice had laid hold of me, but I thought it a very shaky hold—so much so that I was confident that I could break away from her, so that she could never weigh me in her balance.
I will not enter into the details of events in Havana for the next few days—briefly told, I was nominally a prisoner; actually so, as regards leaving the barracks. The commander, Col. Vascos, was a warm friend, and, living in the barrack, he wanted me to dine at his table, but as I was already planning an escape, I deemed it best not to accept.
My wife spent many hours with me daily. All my meals were brought from the hotel. Nunn was kept a prisoner for two days, then liberated. I took him into my confidence, telling him I was going to escape, and directed him to make all outside arrangements for that event, and he was greatly rejoiced when I told him he should accompany me in my flight.
Pinkerton, was awake to the danger of losing his man, and had lodged a written protest with the English and American Consuls against my being confined in the police barracks.
The only result was that Col. Vascos issued an order to keep him and his men out of the barracks.
I had a great many visitors, including officers of the army and navy, and all were loud in protestation and indignantat my arrest. None seemed to care whether I was guilty or not, but all demanded my liberation, as there was no extradition treaty and no law to surrender me. Even my lawyer, the most influential in Cuba, assured me there was not the slightest danger of my surrender, but I knew that the bankers Rothschild would ask Spain to give me up, and to an impecunious Government like that of Spain the word of a Rothschild was more potent than that of a king.
Then I knew such bright men as William A. Pinkerton (who had arrived) and his lieutenant, Capt. John Curtin, would never have made the mistake of coming to Cuba without full powers; therefore, feeling confident that my surrender would be only a question of time I resolved to escape.
At my request Col. Vascos had sent a guard of soldiers to my house and brought to the barracks two of my trunks. I had $80,000 in cash and bonds, besides many valuables as well, in them. I gave my wife $20,000 and my servant $1,000 in gold and $5,000 in Spanish bank notes. Curtin had in vain tried to seize my luggage, but the Spanish law stood in his way.
All this time the rebellion in the island was in full blast, the insurgents—consisting of native Cubans, mulattoes and negroes (ex-slaves)—held possession of the greater part of the Eastern provinces—that is, the whole eastern end of the island, and the western end, called Pinar del Rio. They had kept the flame of rebellion alive for six years and were still making a desperate and fairly successful fight to maintain themselves. The sympathies of the American people were with them, and they looked to our country for arms and recruits. The former were smuggled into the island as opportunity offered by a Cuban committee in New York. Not many, but yet some, recruits went, for it was death to be caught going or returning, and few ever returned. The civil conflict was murderous, neither side giving quarter. The spirit of adventure was strong upon me, and I resolved,if I escaped, to make my way to the Western Province and join the insurgents for a year, then make my escape by crossing the narrow body of water between Cape San Antonio and the mainland of Central America.
Once among the rebels all pursuit of me was at an end, as army after army had been sent from Spain to crush the rebellion, and each had in turn melted away before the valor of the rebels or the deadly climate.
Nunn volunteered to accompany me, and I gave him $2,000 to send to his wife in Paris, that his mind might be easy on that score. No one knew my real destination save Nunn and my wife. It was hard to obtain her consent, but at last it was given. I arranged with her that she was to leave Havana as soon as she knew I was off, cross to Key West, wait one month there, and, if she then heard nothing of me, she was to telegraph my sister to meet her in New York, take the steamer to that city and live with her until I rejoined her.
Among other things, Nunn, by my orders, procured good maps of the country. A Spanish gentleman, a warm friend, but whose name I will not mention, was my counselor in the plot. He advised me to go to the Isle of Pines, as Senor Andrez had promised to keep me safely from all pursuit. I let my friends think that was my destination. I proposed as when on my visit to embark from Cajio, but to take a westward course along the coast, and when well off Pinar del Rio and night fell to put about and steer to shore under cover of the darkness. Once ashore, to get as far inland as possible before dawn. Then to keep a lookout for any body of rebels and join them as a volunteer in the cause of "free Cuba." We were sure of a welcome, particularly as we would come well armed.
BLACK MARIA CONVEYING THE FORGERS THROUGH LONDON IN CHAINS.BLACK MARIA CONVEYING THE FORGERS THROUGH LONDON IN CHAINS.
I had made it a practice to give the sentinels in the police barracks a bottle of brandy every day and a box of cigars every second day during my stay, besides what were to themvaluable presents, so I was highly popular in the barracks. We had fixed on the night of March 20 for the venture.
My room was in the second story of the barracks, but I was allowed to go freely through all the rooms on that floor, followed more or less by a guard. None of the windows opened on the street. There was a room leading to an open window, but the door was kept locked. It was arranged to have it unlocked with the key on the inside at 10 o'clock that night. I was to walk about as usual, and, when the hour came suddenly step through the door, lock it behind me and then bolt through the window into the street. Nunn and my friend were to await me outside of the window with orders to shoot any man (not a native) who attempted to stop me, as I feared Curtin or his men might be on guard in the street, and once in the street I did not propose to go back again alive.
The guns and two extra revolvers had been made into a bundle and left at the station. At a nearby room were disguises for Nunn and myself, consisting simply of cloaks and whiskers. We intended to board the 10:30 train going South, and once well out of the station would dispense with all disguise but the Spanish cloak each of us wore.
The day for the venture came. I had previously instructed my wife to send word she was indisposed, and to remain at the hotel. She had very bravely offered to be on hand and with me up to the moment I disappeared through the door, but fearing that in the excitement some of the soldiers might say or do something insulting, I forbade her being on the scene. I had had an unusually large number of visitors during the day. I felt but little anxiety over the result, save only on the side of Pinkerton. I had a sort of suspicion or presentment that, once fairly outside of the barracks, I would run against him. The day passed rapidly away, and 6 o'clock came, and all the civil officials, with the horde of hangers-on, departed, leaving the usualevening solitude in the barracks. Soon Nunn came with my supper and cautiously produced a revolver and belt. I strapped the belt around me under my vest, placing the revolver under a pile of clothing. Nunn reported everything all right. He had seen Curtin that day as usual around the hotel and apparently unsuspicious of anything unusual going on.
The window I was to jump out of opened on the public street, and the street would be jammed full of people at the hour I was going. Of course there were a good many chances of failure, chiefly so because all the police from top to bottom knew me by sight, and if one of them happened to be one of the half hundred witnesses of my jump he might have wit enough to seize me.
Nunn and my friend were to be under the window ready to act according to circumstances. Above all, to be ready to seize hold of any one who manifested any intention to detain me. Nunn was full of courage and hope. At 7 o'clock he went away, not to see me again until we met outside the barracks. I called the guard and three or four idle soldiers into my room and served them out liberal doses of brandy. Unluckily enough, however, the one on duty would drink but lightly. Soon after 8 Consul-General Torbet came in to smoke a cigar and have a chat. He remained until nearly 10, and then departed. Then I felt the hour had indeed come. I thrust the revolver inside my shirt, and rolled up a cap and put it in the same place. Then calling the sentry, I gave him a drink and a cigar, and stepping out into the hall, I began my usual march around through the upper rooms of the barracks. I was to go out of the window at precisely 10. It wanted ten minutes of that time. It was a long ten minutes to me, but I marched around puffing my cigar unconcernedly, with an eye on the door I was to slip through. At the hour I had my watch in my hand, and was in the room farthest from the door of exit into the roomopening on the street. I walked swiftly through the two intervening rooms and so was for a brief four or five seconds out of sight of the slow following sentinel. I reached the door, opened it, stepped through and instantly locked it. In a moment I was through the open window into the little iron balcony outside. One swift glance showed me the street thronged with people, but hesitation meant failure and death. I climbed lightly over the railing and hung suspended for an instant from the bottom; the crowd below made a circle from under, and I dropped easily to the ground, bareheaded, of course. Nunn was there, and instantly clapped a large straw hat on my head. The strange incident did not seem to attract the least notice, for in a moment we were lost in the crowd. I had my hand on my revolver, and had so strong a belief I should every second be confronted by Curtin that I was strangely surprised when I saw no sign of the gentleman. In less time than it takes to tell it, I was down into an open hallway and then into a room. I and Nunn, who were smooth-faced, were given bushy whiskers and a cloak. In the mean time, I paid an agent in waiting $10,000 in French and Spanish notes, then we hurried out of the rear into a cab and were driven to the station, arriving just in time to catch the 10:30 train.
The cab ride and train ride that night were happy rides. I had been a captive and now was free. The sights and sounds all around me took on a deeper purpose and a more significant meaning than they had ever borne before.
I had for a few brief days been a captive, shut out from nature's sights and sounds, and that brief deprivation awoke in me a feeling of appreciation for the feast that is everywhere around us spread with a lavish hand. My mind was in a tumult of delight, and I almost forgot I was a fugitive; fortunately the Spaniard is not a suspicious animal, and no notice was taken of us; and so we bumped slowly on southward through the tropic night.
Seven o'clock on the morning of the 11th found us at Guisa, a small station on the railroad about ninety miles from Havana and west from Cajio some twenty miles. Our friend here procured us horses, and, bidding him good-bye, Nunn and I started on our ride to Cajio. We were both greatly elated over the success of our adventure. Our friends had procured for us police passports and gun permits under the names of Parish and Ellis.
I had a chronometer, several valuable diamonds, a revolver and gun. Nunn carried a canvas bag containing, among other things, 250 capital cigars, tobacco, matches and 300 cartridges. Then we had good maps of the island and current charts of the Gulf of Mantabano, with its hundreds of rocky inlets, spreading everywhere along the south coast. But, armed as we were, it would never do to be picked up by any Spanish boat or patrol anywhere near the rebel border. It probably meant death if we were captured.
I think on the whole it would have been the wiser plan to have gone to Senor Andrez's plantation at San Jose. The fear in that case was that if an order arrived from Madrid to deliver me up I might not be safe even in the Isle of Pines. At Cajio I resolved to lose myself so far as the Spanish authorities were concerned, and only travel by night. If we remained on land this would be necessary, as soldiers were everywhere and our police passports would not hold good if we were found traveling in the direction of the rebel lines.
I proposed going by sea, and then all our voyaging would necessarily be by night, for there were Spanish gunboats everywhere patrolling around the shores, but there were innumerable small inlets where we could draw up our boat, lay perdu during the day and spy out the next island to sail to at night.