Belle Raymond's ticket was for Canada and not for America direct, but to my mind all the countries over here were just alike, and as long as one landed on the west side of the Atlantic Ocean, I was satisfied. It was all a land of gold to me. So I went to Montreal on the ticket of Belle Raymond.
On ship-board I made several acquaintances among the other Irish girls on board, and they told me that the best way to get a start on this side of the water was to get a position as maid to some great lady and then interest her in lace-making. Then, they said, I could soon build upa good trade for my laces among the people who had plenty of money to pay for them. They said that any attempt to sell laces outright would end in failure, as not one person in 100 knew real Irish lace when they saw it, and they would think that I was a fraud unless some great lady vouched for me.
I did not land directly in Montreal. The last stage of the journey I performed by train from Quebec, where I left the steamer. I spent half a day in Quebec viewing the sights of the city in company with several other girls. I then took the train for Montreal where I went directly to the Young Women's Guild home, where I knew I would be safe. The Guild secured me a position with the Thornton family in Belleville, Ontario.
I was overjoyed when I found that I was going into a great rich family, for they told me that Mrs. Thornton's father was worth many, many millions of dollars, and that he controlled the roller mill business in Canada. This meant that if I secured Mrs. Thornton as a patroness for my laces I could get all the rich ladies to buy.
Disappointment awaited me and my dreams were shattered. I worked nine months as a housemaid. Mrs. Thornton was not approachable by servants, although she was uniformly kind and considerate.
At the Thornton home the disillusions as to the golden land began to disappear rapidly and my life settled down to the humdrum of a housemaid's life. My dreams were shattered. I was tempted to do wrong on numerous occasions. Disheartened, I finally left the services of the family. I was given a letter certifying to my good character when I quit.
But there was no chance to get started with my lace-making. I thought perhaps it was because Belleville was too small a place and that therefore I would do better if I could get a place in a big city where I might get a position as lace-maker in some of the big stores I had heard about.
I went to Toronto where I worked for about three weeks. At the end of this time I had almost given up hope of doing anything with my lace-making. I was heartsick and almost ready to go home. I had saved up a little money, however, enough to take me to Chicago or some big city in the United States, and still have $40 or $50 left with which to support myself until I could get work of some kind. I was on the point of going back home to Ireland at first, but the thought that I would get there just about penniless, and without having done well on this side, and the thought of what the neighbors would say and how the other girls would laugh at me, finallydecided me to come to Chicago and make one last trial at what the Americans call "making good" before I gave up all hope. This fatal decision was my ruin. Had I been able to see ahead just a little, to have looked into that awful hell-pit of a Wellington hotel—but there. God ruled otherwise and perhaps chose me out as an example and warning.
The First Night.
I was practically penniless when I arrived in Chicago. I knew no one. The magnitude of the city was fearful to me. For hours I wandered about knowing not where to go. Exhausted and frightened, I at last sought shelter in a railway station. The matron there was kind and talked encouragingly to me. She soon knew my story.
She took me to the Young Women's Christian Association and obtained a room for me. In a few days the officers of the association obtained a position for me as a maid at the Wellington hotel. For five weeks I was happy.
In the Wellington hotel was the lace store of Agnes Barrett. Fine Irish laces were on exhibition. The wealthy women of the city patronized the place and almost fabulous prices were paid for the tiny bits of laces on exhibition.
Agnes Barrett seemed to take an interest in me. When she learned that I could make the laces and had won numerous prizes she was delighted. She asked me to come and work for her.
I was overjoyed at the opportunity. She told me that all I would have to do would be to sit in the store and make laces. She said that itwould give the establishment an atmosphere in the sight of the grand dames. That when they came to the store to make purchases and saw me sitting at work making the laces before their eyes, it would greatly increase the value of them. I then went to live with Mrs. Linderman, a kind, motherly woman, who lived at 474 La Salle avenue.
For a long time I was happy. Then Miss Barrett told me that business was slack and that she could not employ me steadily. After that, however, I was in the store quite often. Miss Barrett seemed to take a great liking for me. She was so kind and considerate. She petted and fondled me. Mrs. Cecilia Kenyon and Miss Donohue were also in the store. All of the women lived in the Wellington hotel. Miss Donohue was secretary of the hotel company. They all seemed to be very prominent. At least fine dressed men often came into the store to visit them. They went out to dinners with them and to the theatres.
To me Miss Barrett and Mrs. Kenyon, who was her intimate friend, were angels.
Often Miss Barrett took trips away from the city. She said at those times that she was going to French Lick Springs, Ind., where she had another lace store. When she returned she wouldshow me rolls of bills which she said were the profits from the store.
She told me that if I were only "wise" like she, I could have fine clothes and not have to work much. She said that lots of nice men with plenty of money were looking for nice girls like me, to make wives of them.
Her feeling towards me seemed to change almost in a day.
I became afraid of her. After these outbreaks I only went to the store when I was compelled to do so. When I did go she would be extravagant in her praises of me.
But all this only leads up to the first night.
That awful night, January 4, 1909, will haunt me to my grave. It was as if the deepest pit of the very deepest hell had suddenly been transferred to earth and found lodgment in Chicago.
This night is hard for me to describe. That I must bare the awful sights to which I was witness would be inexcusable if I were not trying to save other girls from the awful fate which awaits them if they come to the big cities of America trustful and innocent.
It is left for you who read this whether my attempt to save others from my dreadful fate is justifiable.
After the orgies which had taken place while I was lying helpless and frightened so that Icould scarcely move, I was told that I must be Miss Barrett's slave for six months. The price for my slavery was to be $25 cash down, and $5.00 a day for the term of slavery. I fought and screamed again at this and said if they did not let me have my clothes and get out of there I would get a detective and see what could be done. They both then told me that I could not get a detective at that hour of the night.
I was turned out of that hotel near midnight in the rain without a cent of money in my pockets, bleeding from the outrages from which I had suffered and forced to run all the way to my home in the rain.
I cannot describe the horrible scenes which took place. I cannot even bear to think of them. I only know that I fought and screamed and screamed until they took me to a bath room and threatened to cut me to pieces. They did cut me. I kicked and fought and fought and kicked and screamed until they administered what they called "knock-out" drops to me and until they cut me on the arms, face and limbs. It was only when I became unconscious from the drug that I ceased fighting them. I fought them even when they had me tied to the bath tub.
The man torturer I did not recognize. He was not the man in the velvet mask who tortured me on the first night. He was smaller. Mr.O'Shaughnessey, my lawyer at my trial, demanded that the state in prosecuting me produce a man named Rohr and asked one of the witnesses if they knew a man named Anhaltz or Anhalt. I do not know if either of these was the man who held me on either occasion.
I do know, however, that the cutting was done by Miss Barrett herself, and she threatened me savagely several times, declaring that she would cut my heart out. The records of my sworn testimony, both in affidavits and at the trial show this.
It was while I was being tortured that the name of a man named Taggart was first heard by me. Miss Barrett said, "If Tom Taggart could only see her now." This I swore to on the witness stand in my trial for stealing lace which I made myself and I am ready to swear to it again. Then there was something said about the "Springs," and Miss Barrett said, "You know I promised to get them girls like this one." I was frightened to death by this time and did not know what to expect.
The story of the horrors of those awful nights of torture I will never forget. I can not repeat the happenings of those nights.
To tell that part of the story, I present to the reader two affidavits which I made as I lay, suffering from my awful treatment, on a cot at theFrances Willard Memorial hospital. They are the substance of my testimony in court:
Ella Gingles, being first duly sworn, deposes and says:
That, about seven o'clock on the evening of January 4th, 1909, she returned from a trip down-town to her room at 474 La Salle Avenue, Chicago, and there found Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, and Mrs. Kenyon waiting.
That they said they had been waiting about four hours for her but that she found afterwards they had been waiting about an hour; that they told this affiant they had come out there in a cab, but dismissed the cab before affiant arrived home, which was near seven o'clock in the evening; that they came up to affiant's room and that Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, asked affiant to give her a collar that affiant had been enlarging for her and affiant told her she had not yet finished it, to which she replied that the woman to whom it belonged was about to leave town and could not wait for it.
Affiant then went to the bureau and took out the collar and gave it to her, when she said that she wanted the rest of the lace, and affiant told her she had not given affiant any more lace to do; she then said that if affiant did not give herthe lace she would take it and search the room, whereupon affiant says that they, the two women aforesaid, did search affiant's room and took all the lace affiant had except what was in her little work-box, which they did not touch.
That they took a yard of crepe lace that was an original design and with which affiant won a prize in Belfast, a plate mat that was an original design, and with which affiant won a prize in Larne, Ireland, and a necklace with an amethyst drop of a few stones that affiant's mother bought for her in London and gave her the Christmas before affiant left home, at which time she bought another with blue stones and gave it to affiant's other sister; that they also took all the money that affiant had, consisting of a Canadian dollar, four American paper dollars and a dollar in change, took affiant's watch, her bank book showing a deposit of forty dollars in Canada, and a sofa top and cushion and many other things.
Affiant further says that said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then asked her to let her look at affiant's trunk, in which affiant then told her she had nothing of hers, but which she insisted upon seeing; affiant then went to Mrs. Linderman, the landlady, and got a candle and took the aforesaid two women down in the basement and opened the trunk.
Mrs. Kenyon held the candle, and Agnes Barrett,alias Madame Barette, went through affiant's trunk and took a pair of long, white stockings, a pair of white gloves, some chiffon, and then Mrs. Kenyon dropped grease from the candle all over anything of any value and the two women aforesaid then tramped the rest of the clothes into the floor, ruining them.
Affiant further says that up to that time, Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, did not claim that any of the stuff was stolen, but that after she brought what was downstairs upstairs and put all of it into a pillow-slip, she said to affiant, "Sure this is all mine." Affiant says that among the things which they took were five medallions, seven of which affiant still possess, having been made twelve in number for a Roman Catholic altar cloth.
Affiant further says that after remaining in the room for two hours or more, joking and laughing and fooling away time, that some time after nine o'clock this affiant was ordered to take up the bag that they had filled with affiant's own goods and carry them down to the Wellington Hotel, and this affiant went, carrying them down on the promise that when they got to the Wellington Hotel the stuff would be given back or the ownership settled.
This affiant says she went down that she might settle her dispute with said Agnes Barrett, aliasMadame Barette, and bring back her own stuff to her own home; that the three, Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, Mrs. Kenyon and this affiant, reached the Wellington Hotel and went into the room of said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, some time in the neighborhood of half-past nine o'clock, or maybe somewhat later, having gone down in the street car; and that when they went in Mrs. Kenyon locked the door to the said Barrett room.
The two women then whispered together in a low tone and Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, asked this affiant to take off her clothes, and she refused.
Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then said to affiant, "You might have something that belongs to me," to which affiant replied that she did not, whereupon said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, said, "I will take them off for you," and she and Mrs. Kenyon then took off affiant's clothes, stripping her with the exception of her shoes.
Affiant says that in taking off the waist a safety pin in affiant's back hurt her and she screamed, whereupon said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, seized this affiant by the throat and told her she would choke her to death if affiant made any outcry.
After stripping affiant, Agnes Barrett, aliasMadame Barette, said to Mrs. Kenyon, "If only ——"—and another man whose name affiant does not remember—"were here now to see this," and Mrs. Kenyon said, "Who are they," to which she replied, "They are the men that I told you about."
The affiant says Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, said to her, "I know a nice gentleman that wants to get you to live with him," to which affiant replied that she did not want to get married, upon which the two women laughed and said, "Nobody is asking you to get married; you would only have to live with someone a little while and you would get plenty of money for it."
Affiant further says that said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then told Mrs. Kenyon to hold this affiant, and Mrs. Kenyon grabbed her from behind, putting her arms through affiant's arms from behind.
The affiant also says that Agnes Barrett then said, "She will do."
Miss Barrett went to the telephone and called up Miss Donohue's room. Miss Donohue was not in her room.
(The affidavit follows for four pages of revolting details.)
Miss Barrett and Mrs. Kenyon, she says, were unclothed, a short time later when a man came tothe room. When he knocked, affiant says, the two women put on night gowns and left her entirely uncovered. She says Miss Barrett asked him what kept him when he was allowed to enter the room and he replied he could not get there any sooner.
She says his face was covered with a black mask.
Affiant says he attacked her and was assisted in this by Mrs. Kenyon.
The affiant says that after some time the telephone rang and Mrs. Kenyon answered it and it was for the man and he called up and said, "Is that you, Charley?"
The affiant says she does not know what was said back but that the man then said, "Yes, she is here," and he told this man over the phone, "Yes, it is all right, Charlie, she is here," and added that he would be back soon.
He then said over the telephone, "Yes, I will just come right away," and that after that he put on his clothes and left, but that Agnes Barrett and Mrs. Kenyon remained in the room.
The affiant further says that before the man went out Agnes Barrett asked him when he would give her the money and he said, "Well, sure, we are to come tomorrow night," and added that he would bring the money then and then left. The affiant says that she then asked Agnes Barrettfor her clothes. These, she says, were given her after a time.
The affiant then says Miss Barrett told her to come down the next night at five o'clock and offered her a silk dress if she would do as she bid, and that she then took the silk dress out of the wardrobe and showed it to her, but affiant refused it.
That she then said that if affiant would come down tomorrow she would get it fixed for this affiant and that she would have things ready for this affiant to go down to the Springs. She further told this affiant that she, this affiant, was to go to French Lick Springs and was to stay there about a week.
She further stated that while this affiant was at the hotel she was not to dress in the morning, but put on a kimono and to dress in the evening, that she was to remain in her room in the afternoon.
This affiant says that Mrs. Kenyon then asked Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, what about the "last one," to which she replied, "Well, they have tired of her; they had her long enough." She then told this affiant that she was to do whatever she would want her to for six months and that this affiant was to come down there the next day to sign a paper.
She told this affiant that she was to be downthere about three months, and that she then was going to send this affiant some place else, but she did not say where, but said that this affiant could sell lace for her after that.
Affiant further says that she did not take any money that night, but that the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, promised to give her back all the things she took from this affiant if affiant would come down there the next day at five o'clock.
Affiant says that when said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, gave affiant her clothes, affiant said that if she did not give her the rest of her things she would go to a detective.
Mrs. Kenyon said that affiant could not get a detective at that time of night. She says that night Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, made her sign two papers; the contents of neither was read to this affiant, nor was she allowed to see them, and the condition of signing the papers was to get her clothes.
The affiant says that Agnes Barrett then held up the two papers and said, "Anybody would believe me with these papers and Mrs. Kenyon." Affiant says she then asked Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette for a nickel to ride home, as she had kept all of affiant's money, and she refused it and said the walk would do affiant good. That when affiant went out she came with her tothe elevator and said, "Be sure and come tomorrow at five o'clock." Affiant says that she then went out without any money and ran home most of the way.
Affiant says that on the next day she did not return to the hotel, but went and told Captain O'Brien; that the enormity of the situation was such that she could not tell it, and told the first part of it; that she did not reach Captain O'Brien's office until nearly five o'clock in the evening because she was ill from the outrages and indignities and sights of the night before; that she was unable to go out until late in the day; that the story itself was so horrible that she did not tell it to any man, but told parts of it to different women who are interested in her.
I, Ella Gingles, now make this affidavit, not to save myself or to help myself, knowing well that my ruination is well-nigh complete if horrible sights and acts and degradations that I cannot describe can work my disgrace; and I make this affidavit not in revenge, but because I have been attacked twice in the Wellington Hotel and because I know that no girl can be safe who like myself has no protectors.
Arrested!
After the horrible outrages of January 4 I did not know what to do. I was without money, and I would have been without food if Mrs. Lindermann had not kindly given me something to eat. I could not bear to think of telling any one, even a police officer or my kind landlady, of the horrors of that night.
Finally on the afternoon of Thursday, January 8, I did make up my mind that I would not say anything about the horrors of the case, but would go to the chief of detectives, Captain P. D. O'Brien, and tell him of the stealing of my things from my rooms and ask him to get my things back for me. I went to the captain and told him my story. He seemed impressed by it, took me to his home that night for supper, lodged me, and the next day, which was Friday, ordered the women at the Wellington hotel to bring back the things which they had stolen from me.
On the afternoon of Friday Mrs. Kenyon, who has since died under the mysterious circumstances, came over alone. Miss Barrett did not come. The captain ordered her to bring the things over with her and to have Miss Barrett come over bynoon of the next day. The next day I went back to the captain's office and they both came over. They brought with them only a part of the things they had taken from my room and they also put in some things which had never been in my room. I told Captain O'Brien so when I looked over the lot. We went over everything piece by piece, and only four small pieces of lace was there any difference of opinion, Miss Barrett admitting that the rest of the things belonged to me. I was allowed to take them away.
Captain O'Brien then asked Miss Barrett whether she was going to prosecute me for theft, and asked her if she was to get the warrant out before all the offices closed so that I could get bail that night and would not have to spend the Sunday in jail. Miss Barrett declared that they had no intention of pushing the prosecution, and we all supposed the case was then over, except myself. I intended to get my other things back in time, if I had to sue for them.
We all then left Captain O'Brien's office. I was astounded that night to be arrested at about eleven o'clock on a warrant sworn out by Miss Barrett, charging me with having stolen the four pieces of lace valued at fifty dollars. I was taken to the Harrison street police station. Here I was compelled to spend the night in a filthy cell.
I understood later that it was the next morningthat Captain O'Brien called up Attorney Patrick H. O'Donnell and asked him to come down to the station and get out my bond and take up my case. Mr. O'Donnell did come, and he did get me out on bail furnished by Samuel Feldmann. Mr. Feldmann came to go on my bail at Mr. O'Donnell's solicitation and that of Captain O'Brien, as I understand it, although of this particular point I am not sure. At any rate, I was released on bail pending a hearing on the charge, which subsequently took place in the municipal court before Judge Hume.
Mr. O'Donnell kindly took me to his home, and his wife there cried over and mothered me and was as good to me as my own mother could have been. Up to this time I had given no hint of the horrors of January 4. I could not bear to think of them, much less speak of them. Mr. O'Donnell did not know. No one except those present and myself knew of these things.
Then the people of Chicago began to come to my aid because I was poor and friendless. The Irish Fellowship Club employed Attorney John Patrick O'Shaughnessey to take up my case and investigate it.
I was taken to the office of Mr. O'Shaughnessey and was told that he, as well as Mr. O'Donnell, would be my friend. Mr. O'Shaughnessey was rather cross to me at first and seemed todoubt whether or not I could make any lace. He seemed to fear that I was a common thief, and not a real lace-maker. He said to me, "Can you make lace?"
I told him, "Yes, I can make lace of any ordinary pattern known as Irish lace." He said to me, "You sit right down there in that chair and make some lace, if you can make lace." I replied that I had no thread.
Mr. O'Shaughnessey then sent out and got some thread of the kinds which I told him to get, and I sat down and worked with the thread for several hours making lace. At the end of the time I was able to show Mr. O'Shaughnessey a piece of the grape-vine pattern, which is well known in Ireland, and which is the pattern which I used when I won my prizes in my native home of Larne for lace-making. It was the same kind of lace which I had made on one or two occasions for Miss Barrett at the Wellington hotel. The pattern agreed with some of the pieces of lace which I was accused of having stolen from the Wellington hotel.
This exhibition of my powers to make lace convinced Mr. O'Shaughnessey that I was not a fraud, and that I could do what I had claimed that I could do. From that time forward he became my active friend and fought hard for meclear to the end of the terrible trial to which I was subjected.
Subsequently I was compelled to make lace in the presence of a number of ladies who were interested in my case, just to show them that I was not a fraud. Every one seemed to be suspicious of me until I had proved that I could make lace and that I was not lying. I did not and never have had a single friend who has not compelled me to give some definite proof or other either as to lace-making ability or my character since this whole horrible matter came out.
After my experience in proving to Mr. O'Shaughnessey that I was not a fraud I was taken to Mr. O'Donnell's home and there cared for by his wife. Mrs. O'Donnell, who seemed to be about the only person to believe in me from the first, even when her husband seemed to doubt me, took good care of me and treated me as if I were her own daughter. After Mr. O'Donnell had satisfied himself that I was all right, and that there was no fraud in any of my stories, he, too, was very kind and allowed me to come down to his office to visit with Miss Mary Joyce, his stenographer, who used to chat with me while I made lace with which to pay at least a part of my obligations to the O'Donnells.
It was here, in this office, away up in the air at the Ashland block, that I made lace day afterday. I could only make one or two collars and a tie or so a week, but that little brought in something, as I had some exclusive Irish patterns of my own which attracted trade. These patterns of mine could not be duplicated, at least in America, and the lace which I made has always attracted attention. One of my customers for the lace which I made at this time was Miss Sarah M. Hopkins of the Catholic Women's League of Chicago. She bought several ties from me and became interested in me at this period of my troubles, before the brutal second attack at the Wellington hotel.
When Miss Hopkins and other ladies became patrons of mine I thought I saw a way to make a good living without having to work as a housemaid any more, and that I could use the trade which I had learned in Ireland to good advantage. It was the first chance I had really had to show what I could do since I had left the old country, and I felt very thankful for it.
The days dragged by very slowly for me, for they kept putting off the case of trying me for lace-stealing, stealing the lace I had made myself, from time to time, and some days I cried and cried because the case was not over and I was not free, because I did not believe that anybody would convict me of stealing my own property, especially after the manner in which it was taken.
I remember one day I was crying my eyes out on the couch in Mr. O'Donnell's law office when Miss Mary Joyce, the best girl friend I have ever known, came in and tried to quiet me. I cried more and more until a gentleman came in, I think he was a reporter, and then I managed to quit crying until he left. Miss Joyce told him to get out of the place until I was quiet, and he went. After he had gone I began to cry again, and Miss Joyce said not to cry, that some time soon I would be back in Ireland again with the home folks. That only made me cry more, because I did not see how I could face the people at home after the terrible things that had happened to me and after I had been arrested.
Long and long those awful days dragged out from January 9 until February 6. I do not believe that there was a single day that I did not cry until my eyes were all red, and I know that on many a night during that time I cried myself to sleep. I could not bear to think of the shame that had befallen me, although I knew that it was no fault of my own that it had happened to me.
It was all a nightmare. My nerves were breaking gradually under the terrible strain.
Then came my hearing before Judge Hume of the municipal court. I was arraigned on the larceny charge and after Miss Barrett and I had testified my attorneys demanded that I be heldto the grand jury, and refused to cross-examine the witnesses for the prosecution, so convinced were they of my innocence.
When this was done Miss Barrett was heard to say, "Oh, my, this is awful." This remark was overheard by Mr. O'Shaughnessey and convinced him more than ever that something was being hidden and that I was not the thief the Wellington hotel people sought to make me out.
During this trial an attempt on the part of Mrs. Kenyon to coach Miss Barrett while she was on the stand brought forth some strong objections from Mr. O'Shaughnessey, and Mrs. Kenyon was compelled to stop attempting to coach Miss Barrett from the floor of the courtroom.
When they tried to make out their case against me at this hearing they brought a number of pieces of lace which had never been in Captain O'Brien's office or in my room, and I said so, and Attorney O'Donnell promptly had them impounded for the purpose of disproving the charge against me later on. He would not let them have them back, nor would he let them have back a pair of stockings of Miss Donahue's which they said I had stolen. This was the first injection of Miss Donahue's name into the case, but it was brought in later after the second attack on me in the Wellington hotel.
At this preliminary hearing I was held on thedemand of my own people to the grand jury and was subsequently indicted on their demand that I might be enabled to effectually clear my name. This was the opening of the larceny case, where the alleged theft of $25 worth of lace has caused the expenditure of more than $38,000 all told in prosecution and defense of me, a little Irish working girl.
The Second Orgy.
The second affidavit of Ella Gingles covering the incidents of the second night following her arrest is a story of a grewsome tragedy. It was made as she lay on a cot in the Frances Willard Memorial hospital in Chicago.
The affidavit, signed by herself and sworn to, is as follows:
Ella Gingles, being first duly sworn, deposes and says:
That on the ninth day of February, 1909, she was arrested, charged with the larceny of jewelry and lace in the city of Chicago, and that the complaining witness was one Agness Barrett, alias Madame Barette, and that on the following day she was taken out on bail and became represented by Patrick H. O'Donnell of Chicago, and a day or two thereafter also by John P. O'Shaughnessey. The affiant further says that she had a hearing thereon.
Your affiant says that on Tuesday, February 16, 1909, this affiant came in the afternoon to theoffice of Patrick H. O'Donnell, 911 Ashland block, and there sat in the office making lace for one hour and then had a talk with Attorney O'Donnell in his private office, and then left his office a few minutes before five o'clock p. m., but stopped at the elevator in said building to talk to Mr. O'Donnell and Miss Sarah Hopkins.
That as she left the said building she had in her pocketbook, among other small change, a five dollar bill, and that this affiant went from the office to the store on State street known as Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co., and went in there and bought a spool of thread for crocheting purposes, and paid forty cents therefor and gave the five dollar bill to be changed in making said payment; and this affiant says she is ready to exhibit her purchase slip showing the purchase and the amount of money offered in payment therefor; and this affiant says that the hour of said purchase was almost five o'clock on the evening of the sixteenth, and that as this affiant approached the door of said store a cab was standing at the curb and Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, stepped out of said cab and started toward the store and left a man sitting in the cab waiting, but that this affiant did not see where Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, went, or did not see her make subsequent purchases.
This affiant further says that after making saidpurchase she returned home to her room at 474 La Salle avenue, Chicago, and there placed the one key to the door of her room in a secret place where her sister might find it, and which place was known to herself and her sister, and the secret place was on the stairs under the stair carpet.
After concealing said key, and before the sister so returned, and after entering her room and turning out the gas stove, she retraced her steps and started back to room 545, Wellington hotel, to collect from a Miss Arnold three dollars that said Miss Arnold owed this affiant; and that on two separate occasions theretofore this affiant undertook to collect said money; once while in company with Miss Mary E. Joyce and later while in company with Mrs. Bagshaw and Miss Sarah Hopkins, but that she was persuaded not to try to make such collections by both parties.
This affiant says she is familiar with the Wellington hotel and had worked in said hotel for about a week, and while she worked there said Miss Arnold did occupy said room, and that Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, lived on the second floor in said hotel, in room number 228; and that this affiant, when she went to said hotel, did not know that Miss Arnold had moved out of room 545, when in fact she had, and, as your affiant is now informed, had left the hotel on the 12th of the preceding month.
This affiant did not know that Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, had left the second floor and had moved up into the identical room 545, but your affiant is informed that such is the fact. And this affiant did go to room 545, believing that she was approaching the room of Miss Arnold and not knowing that she was approaching the room of Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, and knocked on the door, the exact time of which this affiant does not know, but believes that it was in the neighborhood of half past six o'clock in the evening.
This affiant says that a man stepped out of said room and asked this affiant what she wanted, and this affiant said she wanted to see Miss Arnold. The man said, "Is it about anything in particular?" and this affiant said, "It is about lace," and the man said that she was expecting this affiant, and to wait a minute. He talked to somebody in the room and then came out and said Miss Arnold was in the bathroom, and this affiant said she would wait until she came back.
The man said she was only brushing her clothes, and this affiant went around to the bathroom and he followed her around, and this affiant knocked at the door, which was a little ajar, and he pushed open the door and pushed this affiant in the bathroom and put a wet handkerchief in her mouth, on which handkerchief, this affiantsays, there was some burning stuff that was sweet, and it was "cold, but burning," after which affiant says she did not know any more.
Affiant says that this was not the bathroom she was subsequently found in, but was the bathroom around by Miss Barrett's room, that affiant then thought was Miss Arnold's room.
Affiant further says she does not remember subsequent events until this affiant woke up lying on a bed entirely undressed with the exception of her stockings, and was being guarded by a man.
This affiant asked, "What is the matter with my head; what is the matter here, and what is wrong?"
The man answered this affiant and said, "You are in Miss Barrett's room; you told something that Miss Barrett did not want you to tell and she is going to kill you, and if you scream we will kill you." At that time this affiant saw nobody except the man himself.
He said he was going after Miss Barrett, who was in the hall, and he went to the hall and locked the door after him, and then this affiant looked for her clothes and could not find any, but found a pocketbook belonging to her on the bureau, and there was a lead pencil in it, and this affiant wrote on an envelope:
"I am at the Wellington hotel; come quick."
But did not sign her name in full, merely signingher first name, "Ella," and then put it in an envelope, and after affixing two stamps wrote on the outside, "Bellboy please mail this," and then got up on a chair and threw it over the transom towards the next door, room number 547.
Affiant says that the reason she did not call on the telephone was because she did not remember Mr. O'Donnell's telephone number and she did not see any telephone, and that she could not have called on the telephone anyway if this man was still outside, and she did not want to alarm him or notify him, because he said she was not to move or get up, and said that he would kill her if she got up from the bed.
Affiant says that at this time she had nothing on except her stockings, and that when she got down from the chair she put Miss Barrett's spread around her, and that man above referred to then came back in and asked her what she had been doing and she replied that she had not been doing anything. Affiant says that the man then attacked her. When she screamed the man hit her on the head with his fist at the root of the hair over the right eye, and the resultant wound was the wound found on her by the doctors later.
Affiant further says that the man referred to then offered her ten dollars after striking her, and tried to tear the spread off of her, but that this affiant screamed for help, and that the man thengot a towel or some cloth and bound her mouth with a gag, and that this affiant could not prevent said binding. Miss Barrett came in, and he then sat down and wrote several letters or papers and watched this affiant for several hours. Late in the night he presented some paper to this affiant to sign and told her he would kill her if she did not, but this affiant does not know what the paper was and has never heard of it since.
This affiant further says that on the second occasion that the man attacked her this affiant pulled the gag off her mouth and screamed for help again, but the man bound her mouth, and she so sat with her mouth bound until about two o'clock in the morning. Affiant says that there was a knock at the door and the man put out the light and went to the door, and that Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, and another woman came in, and that the man asked the said Barrett what kept her.
Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then asked the man if this affiant was there yet, to which he replied yes, and that then the aforesaid Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, said that she could not help staying, saying something about a game of cards.
The man then asked the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, if she brought the wine with her, to which she replied that she had, butthat she did not have a corkscrew, and asked the man if he went out to straighten up the bathroom, to which he replied that he did, and said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then said that she went into the bathroom as she was leaving the hotel and found a hatpin in it, and that was all.
Affiant says that the man then gave the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, a pocket knife with a corkscrew in it, and that they pulled the cork out of the bottle and drank some of the contents. Affiant says she did not know what was in the bottle or whether the wine was red or white. Affiant says that the said man, Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, and the woman that came with her as aforesaid had lighted a candle before they opened the bottle, and that after they had partaken of the contents thereof as aforesaid the man went out of the room, but that previous to that he offered the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, fifty dollars, and that the said Agnes Barrett said that was not enough.
Affiant says that that was all the man said at the time, and that he then gave to said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, fifty dollars, who did not then say any more, but took the money. That the man then went out of the room and took the bottle with him, and also the candle lighting the room. Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette,then turned on the light and came over to this affiant, who was sitting on the bed, and removed the gag from affiant's mouth and said to this affiant:
"Didn't I tell you I would kill you if you would tell your lawyer the things she told me."
"I did not tell the attorney," I replied. Agnes Barrett then asked affiant if affiant had told him the man's name down at the Springs, to which affiant replied that she had.
She then said: "Did you tell that interrupting beast?"
When I asked her who she meant, she said: "That other lawyer of yours."
I said, "I did not tell him anything."
I asked her who brought me there, saying that she did not remember coming there.
The man then came in and said that he was going to fix my head and give me something for it. They asked me to go to Miss Donahue's room and I refused.
Affiant further says that Agnes Barrett then took two night-dresses out of a paper and put one on her and then took her in to the man she claimed was a doctor to the bathroom. The other woman came out of the room after them and locked the door and brought the key with her, and that they then all went into the bathroom.
This affiant says that Miss Donahue was talkingover the back transom to the man inside the bathroom. Affiant says that a candle was then lighted in the bathroom and that Miss Donahue reached a little bottle through the transom and told said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, to mix it.
Affiant said she did not know what it was and refused to take it, whereupon the man poured it out in a glass and put it to this affiant's mouth and made her drink it. Affiant says that she did not know who the man in the bathroom was at that time, because he had a black mask tied over his face, and that she did not know whether this man was a doctor or not, but that Agnes Barrett called him doctor.
She further says that after drinking the medicine or drug, as above stated, she became sick, and that Agnes Barrett then asked the man if he had any knockout drops.
The man replied that he had not.
Agnes Barrett then said she had some, and went out of the room and shortly afterward came back with what appeared to be candy. They then made affiant drink more of the aforesaid wine and then told affiant to eat some of the supposed candy in order to get the taste out of affiant's mouth, and that she did so.
Affiant says the supposed candy was sweet andwas hard on the outside and soft on the inside, and was of a greenish color.
She says that after this she could not keep her eyes open and could not remember anything more, but that they were still in the bathroom, and when affiant awakened she was on the bathroom floor.
(Here the affidavit recites the revolting details, unprintable in nature, which occurred in the bathroom on the fifth floor of the Wellington hotel.)
The affiant says that when she awakened she was not yet tied, and that the man had his coat off and his face uncovered. Agnes Barrett was standing in the room. The affiant says that Madame Barette cut her on the arms and wrists several times. She says she struggled and that the other woman then asked the said Agnes Barrett why she did not tie the affiant's hands, to which she replied that she did not have anything there to tie them with, but that she then got the key to her room from the other woman and went out, and returned with cords, etc., and that the other woman then held the affiant's hands while Agnes Barrett tied them behind the affiant's head, and tied them to the legs of the bathtub, and that the man then tied the affiant's leg, which the aforesaid Agnes Barrett held until he tied. She says that Agnes Barrett then said that she had not got enough cords with her, but she hada piece of black cloth or stocking, or something black, with which she tied affiant's leg, and also tied her ankle with some sort of a cord. She says that her left leg was left untied and that her mouth was also tied. The affiant then says that the man and Agnes Barrett then both attacked her.
She says that the strange woman held her shoulders to the floor and Agnes Barrett held the leg that was loose while the man took the knife and cut her several times. She says she did not bleed freely and Agnes Barrett then ordered the man to cut her on the other side. The man then assaulted her. He said he cut her to arouse his passions.
She says they were in the room for some time after that and that the man then told Agnes Barrett to go for his overcoat, and she said for him to come back at five o'clock.
Affiant further says that the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, then asked the man to come to her room and stay the remainder of the night, but he said no, that he had somebody to see before he left the city.
Agnes Barrett then told the man to be there and awaken them when he came at five o'clock, and not to sleep late, because she said he was to have a cab with him to take this affiant to Louisville with him.
The affiant then declared that she would not go to Louisville with the man.
Affiant then says Agnes Barrett put the neck of the bottle in her mouth and made her drink the rest of the contents, and also gave her some more of the supposed candy, and then tied up affiant's mouth again.
Agnes Barrett told the man to leave the light on so that the people would think there was somebody in the bathroom, and they then left affiant lying drugged on the floor of the room.
Affiant further says that the man then climbed up over the transom; that she saw him get up; that she saw that he had one leg over, and that she then could keep awake no longer; that she was sleepy and did not know what happened after that.
Affiant further says that at the time the liquid was poured from the little bottle into the big one, as above narrated, that the man told said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, to scrape the label off the bottle and she took the knife that the corkscrew was attached to and scraped at the label of the wine bottle.
Affiant further says that after the man had attacked this affiant the first time, as hereinbefore narrated, that the said Agnes Barrett, alias Madame Barette, said to him, "Fifty dollars is not enough for this girl," and he then said, "Thatis all I paid for the last one," and added, "Look at the bother you gave me with the last one," and she said, "Yes, but you won't have any bother with this one."
This affiant further says there are many incidents and things that happened from the time she was first seized in the bathroom until the man climbed up out over the transom that she has not narrated in this affidavit, but that she has told most of the occurrences; and also says that the clothes she wore that night were later returned to her by the police.
Ella J. Gingles.
Subscribed and sworn to before me this 15th day of March, 1909.
Mary E. Joyce,Notary Public.
[SEAL.]
ELLA GINGLES ON TRIAL.
BY HAL M'LEOD LYTLE.
Was Ella Gingles, the little blonde Irish lace-maker, on trial for stealing $50 worth of lace from Agnes Barrett?
Or was the city of Chicago on trial for permitting an unsophisticated girl to be made the victim of a criminal corporation with its headquarters in another state, as Miss Gingles has sworn?
No more remarkable case was ever tried in the criminal court of Cook county, wherein some of the most amazing cases of which the world has record have been heard and decided.
Ella Gingles was charged with larceny. Ella Gingles asserted that the charge against her was inspired by an intent on the part of her accusers to brand her a thief so that her story of the criminal machinations of a gang operating in the interest of a combination against law and order, with headquarters at an Indiana resort, might escape the penalty of acts committed by its agents.
The jury which heard Ella Gingles' story was not misled by any rhetorical bombast or allegedexpert testimony covering the coined phrase, "mythomania."
Miss Gingles was supposed to have the hysterical tendency developed to the extent that she imagined things happened and then believed they had happened.
There are such people, but they are not of the physical or mental make-up of Ella Gingles. Dr. Krohn has had, no doubt, a vast experience of hysteria, basing the theory on his Kankakee connection, but he reckoned without the jury if he believed that the clear-eyed, self-poised young woman who told that horrible story to the court involving Agnes Barrett and Cecelia Kenyon with the "man in the velvet mask," was a victim of hysteria.
The testimony of Ella Gingles was of a sort that might be heard in a French court and understood. If it were heard in an English court, and believed, the plaintiffs would be certain of twenty years at hard labor without appeal.
In the criminal court of Chicago the prosecution was placed in a strange position. Ella Gingles, charged with a crime against the state, no matter by whom, it was the duty of the state's attorney's office to prosecute her with all the resources of that office.
Across the river they are used to meeting steel with steel. They fight with the weapons thatthe enemy uses. They perhaps become too inured to the idea that everybody is guilty until proved innocent. Therefore the cross-examination of Ella Gingles by Mr. Short, legitimate enough if the young woman were the double-dyed criminal he appears to believe her, fell short of its intended effect with the jury that leaned forward, every man listening with hand over ear for the lightest word of the softest-spoken witness the criminal court had seen in many a day.
Mr. Short was too clever an advocate to believe that the racking cross-examination covering hideous detail of the behavior of Miss Barrett and the dead Mrs. Kenyon, which brought tears to the eyes of the shrinking witness, could add anything to the state's contention in this case.
Ella Gingles was ingenuous to a fault. She answered questions put to her in cross-examination without an instant's hesitation, and with the utmost candor. An apparent discrepancy seized on by the lawyers opposing her and questions thundered at her in denunciatory tone fell flat. The question sounded subtle.
"Ah!" whispered the doubter in the spectator's row. "Here is where she betrays herself."
Then, without an instant's pause, the girl told just what happened. She had been told that she must talk out—just as though she were talking to her mother—and so she told everything. Itwas a difficult situation for a prosecuting lawyer.
But if Ella Gingles was ingenuous, Ella Gingles was no fool. She knew that she was on the defensive.
Still, it was not to be wondered at that the Ella Gingles case proved a puzzle to the Chicago police and the state's attorney's office. The young woman appeared to have a thorough knowledge of the pitfalls that beset young womanhood in certain directions, and to be grossly ignorant of those that girls of less maturity in Chicago might be expected to avoid.
When, in the course of her examination, it developed that Ella Gingles was thinking in the way of a foreigner in a strange place while the state's advocate was cross-examining her as though she had been born and bred in Chicago, or at least in America, the assurance of the defendant charged with a crime was remarkable.
If at any time it should develop that Ella Gingles has lied throughout, that she was never attacked in the Wellington hotel—that Miss Barrett is not guilty of the charges made against her and that the weird story of conspiracy was born in a clever brain, rehearsed and then put on like any melodramatic bit for the delectation of a surfeited public it will go hard with the girl.
Miss Gingles was gowned in the most simple style. Her fresh, unpainted face and her wide-staring,innocent eyes were of the sort seldom involved in a case of this kind.
When asked an involved question in cross-examination she half hesitated, looked quickly at judge and jury, flashed a glance of inquiry at her lawyer and blushed.
Blushing is an accomplishment. It impresses a jury tremendously. Miss Gingles not only blushed, but she wiggled. With a glove twisted in her hand, she had hesitated so long over the answer to a question involving a disagreeable answer that the most dramatic of all situations had been produced.
The court would wait, the audience would hang breathless, the attorneys, standing up, would lean forward, while the witness tried to find words in which to formulate a reply.
Then in three words the story would be told. The jury would lean back and gasp. The judge would swing around in his pivot chair and assume an air of unconcern. The attorneys would busy themselves with papers and the audience would groan. Still Miss Gingles would sit there in the witness chair unperturbed.
Could an innocent young woman sustain the horror of such a climax?
The jury that rendered the verdict of "not guilty" was a representative one. They ranged from men high in the financial world to those oflow estate. In the days that they sat listening to the terrible tale as unfolded by the little Irish lace-maker and the physicians they appeared to be held as though spellbound.
It was a dramatic trial, filled throughout with thrills and shudders.
Sensation followed sensation. At no time during the long trial, which cost the state of Illinois nearly $100,000, did the interest lapse.
It was for the jurors to decide the truth of this complication of alleged happenings and as to the guilt of the little foreigner, charged by her alleged persecutor with theft.
The important points on which Madame Barrett based her charges against Ella Gingles were:
That Ella Gingles signed a confession December 6, 1908, admitting she was a department store thief.
That she stole valuable lace from her and used the lace in the new dress.
That the lace-maker's injuries were self-inflicted.
Combatting this, the little defendant and her stanch friends swore:
That she was a victim of a conspiracy on the part of her accusers.
That her enemies attempted to make her a white slave.
That she was urged by Madame Barrett to accept money offered her by her tempter.
That she was seized, bound and horribly mistreated in the Wellington hotel, as the result of her refusal to accede to Madame Barrett's demands.
That the Barrett woman forced open, or caused to be forced open, her trunk and took therefrom laces and valuable keepsakes and personal properties belonging to her.
It was charge met by charge.
During the long hearing Madame Barrett sat alone. She seemed to have been shunned. At no time did she lose her self-control. The most violent charges seemed to affect her but little.
The girl would make some terrible charge from the witness stand. The prosecuting witness would sit immovable. Her face did not blanch. It did not color to a crimson red. Her eyes did not wander. Forever they were gazing directly in front of her, yet without looking at any one and anything.
It was the gaze and composure of a woman of the world—a woman who has passed through horrors before and who has become immune.
After the jury had been selected Miss Gingles was released on bond. Previous to this time she had been confined in the county jail at her own request, as she charged her enemies were stillfollowing her and she feared they would do her injury.
At the opening of the first session of court First Assistant State's Attorney Benedict J. Short made a short address.
"Miss Gingles, and not Miss Barrett, is on trial here. You must try this case on the evidence alone," said Mr. Short.
Attorney O'Donnell declared he would show that Miss Gingles was the victim of a plot instigated by an alleged agent representing an influential Indiana Democratic politician.
Here are a few samples of questions asked veniremen by Attorney O'Donnell of the defense:
"Are you married?"
"Have you any sisters?"
"Have you read about this case?"
"Miss Gingles is Irish—does that make any difference?"
"Would it make any difference if Miss Gingles belongs to a different religion than you do?"
Assistant State's Attorneys Short and Furthman questioned prospective jurors along these lines:
"Do you know anything about the Irish lace store?"
"Did you ever stop at the Wellington hotel?"
"Can the state accept you as a juror with confidencethat you will do your full duty and not be swayed by outside influences?"
When Attorney Patrick H. O'Donnell, her counsel, entered the courtroom he held a short conference with Assistant State's Attorney Short.
While they were talking Miss Gingles entered the courtroom, accompanied by a deputy sheriff.
"We desire to have Miss Gingles admitted to bail," said Mr. O'Donnell.
"I am very willing, I always have been willing that Miss Gingles should be free on bail," replied Mr. Short.
There was another short conference, after which Mr. Short said: "We will accept you as Miss Gingles' surety."
Thereupon Miss Gingles tripped lightly up to the clerk's desk and wrote her name on the bond. Mr. O'Donnell also affixed his signature to the $2,000 bond and the pretty defendant was freed from the attentions of the officer.
Ella Gingles presented a picture of fresh, girlish beauty as she took her place in front of the jury box.
She wore a white linen suit, with a long coat. The collar and cuffs were trimmed with blue ribbon. A tan straw hat, tam o'shanter style, was patched by brown ribbons and roses. Her brownhair, in curly puffs and waves, fell below her ears and tumbled bewitchingly over her eyes.
The scene in the courtroom at the criminal court when Ella Gingles took the witness stand to relate her terrible story was one never to be forgotten.
As the little lace-maker's name was called and she rose to walk past the jury to the witness stand fifty women seated in the back part of the courtroom rose and began to clap their hands. Some threw their handkerchiefs into the air.
The girl seemed much affected by the demonstration. Judge Brentano seemed taken aback for a moment by this unusual outburst. In vain the bailiff pounded with his gavel for order. Finally the court was compelled to rise and sternly rebuke the courtroom in no uncertain terms.
Miss Gingles began her story in a low tone. It was the voice of a schoolgirl telling of something she had undergone, but could not comprehend. The persons in the courtroom hung on every word. You could have heard a pin fall. As Miss Gingles took the stand Attorney O'Donnell said:
"State your name."
"Ella Gingles," the witness replied, in a voice that rang out through the courtroom. She said she would be nineteen years old next November. She was born in Ireland. Her father's name isThomas, and she has seven sisters and several brothers. She said she came to America in November, 1907.
"Did you make Irish lace?"
"Yes."
She identified a design shown her as one she made when eight years old.
"Who made the hat you are now wearing?"
"I did."
The hat was a peach-basket affair. A design of lace was shown her and she said she was the maker, as well as the designer.
She testified she won prizes in Ireland for fancy lace-making. She said she originated several designs.
Miss Gingles said she remained in Montreal two days, later going to Belleville, Ontario, where she worked as a cook. From there she went to Toronto. She visited a sister in Michigan, coming direct from there to Chicago about November 15, 1908.
"What did you do here?"
"I went to work as a chambermaid at the Wellington hotel. I stayed there a week."
"What did you next do?"
"I went there to meet some fine lady to sell laces to, and quit the work and sold them."
"Where did you next work?"
"At a Michigan avenue restaurant, but quit after four days."
"When and how did you meet Agnes Barrett?"
"I went to her store and showed her my lace."
At the mention of her name Miss Barrett looked straight into the eyes of the girl she accused, and Miss Gingles returned the glances without coloring.
"Miss Barrett gave me some roses to work on," resumed the witness. "She gave me $1 and then I made some berries and more roses."
Miss Gingles said she continued to work for Miss Barrett, receiving $1 per day. Altogether she worked four days for Miss Barrett before Christmas.
"Did Miss Barrett say in your presence and a maid that she missed things?"
"She said she missed some powder and paint and some Limerick laces."
Miss Gingles seemed confident, and began to smile as she testified. On January 4, she said, she returned home at seven o'clock, and found Miss Barrett and Mrs. Kenyon in her room.
"Is Mrs. Kenyon living or dead?"
"Dead."
Attorney O'Donnell dropped this line of questioning and inquired further as to what occurred on that evening.
She said Miss Barrett and Mrs. Kenyon took practically everything of value from her trunk, including prize lace designs, underwear, photographs, bracelets, strips of chiffon and a ring.
"Was the ring valuable?"
"It cost 15 cents in Ireland, but Miss Barrett said: 'It must be valuable or it wouldn't be in a costly box.'
"Besides, they trampled my clothes in the dirt and greased what they left with candles."
"What else did they take?"
"A fancy pillow case I made on a ship."
The most startling part of the girl's story was of the alleged attack upon her in the Wellington hotel, although her testimony was the story of her life practically from the time she came to America from Ireland.