by Carrie Hagen
Wooster greeted the reporter with his trademark good humor.
“You must excuse the looks of this cell. I haven’t fixed it up yet.”
“I was anxious to see the bad man about whom there has been so much talk,” the reporter replied.
“That’s right,” said Wooster. “That’s right, always see all concerned. Don’t believe everything you hear on the streets. God knows I’m bad enough, but the police have got me for something now that I don’t know anything about.”
Wooster said he had “played along” with his arrest, referring to Detective Taggart with his nickname. “Down I went with Josh—and, by the way, he is a pretty good sort of fellow, but he wants badly to do something, he and the Central men being at loggerheads.”
In between telling the reporter an exaggerated account of his life history and the circumstances that had led to his life of crime, Wooster acknowledged that his trademark blackmailing jobs were what had him detained after his arrest. Police had confiscated letters that Wooster had written to his wife, compared them with mailings he had sent to his victims, and believed that his handwriting resembled that of the ransom note writer.
“I don’t always write the same way,” Wooster insisted. “I’m of a very nervous temperament, and you might pick out four of my letters and they might all appear to be written by different persons. They found two letters which they said compared with the handwriting of those sent to Ross. Now that’s all bosh. I think they ought to be convinced that I did not write the letters for this reason: a four-page letter was received by Ross since I have been in prison.”
When an officer came to say that the district attorney’s office had sent someone over and it was time for the reporter to go, Wooster waved him off.
“No, not yet,” he said, “give him a little longer. I want to talk to him.”
The guard obeyed.
“They may let me out today,” Wooster continued. “I think they are satisfied.”
Before he was released, Wooster asked to speak with Detective Taggart. He asked why he was locked up for something he didn’t do.
Taggart told him sources said he was involved in a kidnapping plot.
Wooster said they were right. But, he told Taggart, he had planned to take a different child before the Ross kidnapping. He said he had abandoned the plan when his accomplices learned that the child was nine, old enough to remember his captors’ faces.
Taggart didn’t believe in the coincidence of two separate plans to steal two different children at two similar times.
Wooster insisted that he wasn’t guilty of taking Charley. “[And] even if I was,” he said to Taggart, “you know I wouldn’t give anybody away.”
The police released Christopher Wooster from custody on July 23, just as he had predicted. The New Age reporter who had interviewed him said he celebrated by “getting gloriously drunk.” Later, Wooster told the press that he “had no hard feelings against the authorities” and wanted “to lead a different life if the police would let him.” He began planning a lecture tour to showcase his story.
Several days later, due to a lack of ticket sales, he postponed his “tour.”
PHILADELPHIA, JULY 24—Ros. we have seen yu reply in personal (yu agree to the terms in every particular) we accept yu offer for we consider yu fuly understand the great an momentus obligation yu place youself under when you assented tu this agreement. we be sory that we cannot effect the chang to-day. our creed is such that it forbids us to any bisines of this kind only at a certain quarter of the moon an the phace of the moon has just passed over so we have got tu wate one week befor we can transact any bisines between us. this delay may be a great sorce of torture tu yu but it cannot be avoided.
they are goin to search every house in the city
SARAH ROSS HAD STOPPED ASKING TO READ THE RANSOM NOTES, but after the arrival of each one, she asked if her little boy was okay. Christian always said yes.
Because the authorities had failed to draw any pertinent information from Christopher Wooster, Detective Joshua Taggart did not receive the Ross family’s $300 reward for information leading to Charley. Taggart, though, wasn’t hurting financially. For the past two years, he had been accepting “hush” money for protecting the identity of George Leslie, a thirty-four-year-old bank robber and jewel thief.
The New York Times and New York Herald chastened the police for releasing their one lead, but Wooster soon disappeared from the interests of all parties involved. Within two days of the mayor’s July 23 notice, the “one lead” that the police had in Wooster turned into hundreds of false ones. Unemployed workers, indigent street dwellers, tenement families, struggling laborers, police officers, and detectives sought the $20,000 reward by producing “a” Charley who fit the description they had read, heard, and talked about for the past three weeks. Street children of all ages adopted the name “Charley Ross.” Poor parents and fortune seekers told their own boys to dirty their hair and assume Charley’s identity; the adults then turned their own children in to the police.
Western Union extended a free wire to Christian Ross, and he communicated with police chiefs throughout the country to follow up on promising possibilities. Too often, officers acted on false instincts and took innocent parents into custody. One mother was stopped so often by Philadelphia police officers that Chief Jones gave her a letter stating her child was not Charley. In North Philadelphia, officers arrested a man and a woman because eyewitnesses placed them with Charley. They were quickly released. The child was their own—and a daughter. Authorities also mistakenly arrested a man from Richmond, Virginia, after witnesses insisted they saw him traveling with Charley Ross. The man said his accusers must have been referring to his recently deceased six-month-old infant son, not a four-year-old boy. To verify the story, the Richmond Police had the baby’s body disinterred.
A Philadelphia detective traveled to Allentown, Pennsylvania, to investigate a report filed by the Pennsylvania Detective Bureau, an organization that had offered a separate $2,500 reward for information leading to Charley. On the morning of Tuesday, July 7, a carriage carrying two men, a woman, and a little boy parked by a bank. One of the men and the woman escorted the boy into a nearby barbershop and asked the barber, “Fancy Bill,” to trim his curls. The child didn’t speak. He appeared to be in shock, and the barber heard the woman promise to buy the boy candy and ice cream when they left. The detective listened to the story, but once he learned that the barber shared it only after hearing about the reward, he dismissed the claim. The curious Allentown party then disappeared from the papers.
Neighbors in Germantown remembered two foreign couples who had searched the town for work in a rented buggy during the last week of June. Although wandering laborers passed through the town, rarely did they stay in one specific area without finding consistent work for consecutive days. The police visited area stables, checked rental records, and questioned stable keepers’ memories. They traced descriptions to a British foursome living in central Philadelphia and raided their house. The police didn’t discover Charley, but they did discover stolen silks and jewelry—evidence of why the group was interested in circling the same households.
Much of Philadelphia believed that Charley had never left the city’s boundaries. One letter to the editor suggested the police organize search parties in each ward and investigate “every Philadelphia property for the child.” An ex-detective echoed the idea, telling the police to set one day aside to search every house in the city. Editorials disagreed, arguing that eyewitness accounts identified the kidnappers’ buggy as an out-of-town rental and the boy was probably miles away. Benjamin Franklin, the Philadelphia superintendent of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, thought so too. He thought the captors had taken Charley to Canada, where they couldn’t be extradited for kidnapping.
Hopeful reports and disappointing results devastated Christian Ross, and his doctor confined him temporarily to his bed. The daily stories of false leads and con artists also disturbed the
rest of an invalid woman in New York City. Her husband, a gentleman named Mr. Percell, decided to address his own personal to the kidnappers through the New York Herald. Without contacting Christian Ross or the Philadelphia police, Percell offered to pay the ransom and act as an agent for the protection of the kidnappers and the safe return of Charley. Percell said he didn’t want to “compromise a felony,” only to calm his sick wife’s worries over Charley Ross.
The kidnappers didn’t appreciate his offer.
PHILADA., July 28.— We se in the personals that Mr. Percll a millionaire of New York offers to pay the required amount to redeem yu child an ask no questions, but we have no confidence in him neither would we treat with him if he offered one milion in hand an no questions asked. in the transaction of this bisines we are determined to no no one but yu. if yu have not the mony to redeem him an ask for an extension of time we wil keep him for yu but under no other circum-stances we wil not. No matter how grate the reward is, it signifies nothin with us—they are goin to search every house in the city. we wil give you the satisfaction of knowin that he is within 100 miles of this city an yet we defy al the devels out of hell to find him. we teld yu to put the mony in a box, but we now tel yu to put the mony in a strong, white, leather valise, locked an double straped an be prepared to give it or take it wherever we direct yu. if yu are directed to cary it yuself yu may take al the friends yu pleas with yu—but dont let the cops know yu bisines. if you can have all things ready as we have directed yu by thursday the 30th insert the folowin in the ledger personal (John—it shall be as you desire on the 30th.) Ros you may fix any other date that is convenient for you.
if you want to trap
ON FRIDAY MORNING, JULY 29, FREDERICK S. SWARTZ, A POSTAL agent on the Reading Railroad, prepared to exchange mail bags in Hamburg, a town in central Pennsylvania. As the train slowed down, Swartz noticed a group of gypsies near the Hamburg station. A tall man held a little boy in their midst. Swartz thought, “My God, that’s Charley Ross!” When he arrived at the Pottsville station, about eighteen miles east of Hamburg, Swartz contacted an Officer Kaercher. Kaercher investigated Swartz’s story and wired Philadelphia’s central station. He was told to arrest the whole band of gypsies.
Philadelphia Public Ledger. July 30.
“John, It shall be as you desire on the 30th.”
PHILADELPHIA, July 30— Ros. you are to take the 12 P.M. train tonight from West Philadelphia for New York. it arrives at New York 5.05 A. M. take a cab at Cortland or Disbrossers streets, N.Y., an ride directly to the grand central station at 4 avenue and 42d streets. take the 8 A. M. northern express by way of hudson river (take notice) you are to stand on the rear car and the rear platform from the time you leave west phila depot until arrive at jersey city—you are then to stand on the rear platform of hudson river car from the time yu leave the grand central at New York until yu arrive at Albany. if our agent do not meet yu before yu arrive in Albany yu wil find a letter in post office at Albany addressed to C. K. Walter directing yu where yu are then to go. these are the signals: if it be dark the moment the rear car passes him he wil exhibit a bright torch in one hand an a white flag in the other hand but if it be light he wil ring a bell with one hand and a white flag in the other hand. the instant yu see either of these signals yu are to drop it on the track an yu may get out at the next station.
before he intercepts yu
CHRISTIAN RECEIVED THE KIDNAPPERS’ INSTRUCTIONS AT 4:00 P.M. on July 30. Earlier that morning, Officer Kaercher of the Pottsville police had sent a telegram to Philadelphia Police headquarters. “I have the child and the parties; what shall I do with them?”
Police Chief Jones and Joseph Lewis made immediate arrangements to travel by train to Hamburg. By 11:45 A.M., the Associated Press received word that Christian Ross was en route to Hamburg to identify Charley. Within hours, thousands of Philadelphians read in the afternoon papers that Charley had been found. The Inquirer later reported, “not since the close of the [Civil] war has any piece of news awakened so much interest.” Hundreds gathered around the news bulletin boards on Chestnut Street, waiting for confirmation of Charley’s homecoming.
Track repairs delayed the train carrying Joseph Lewis and Chief Jones. By the time they arrived in Hamburg at 2:15 P.M., a crowd greeted them. The men pushed their way to the station platform, where police had surrounded the gypsy tribe. Joseph Lewis looked at the child and saw how clearly he resembled the Native American woman who held him. A short dispatch was sent to Philadelphia. “The child is not Charley Ross.” The crowds on Chestnut Street turned away.
Meanwhile, police detectives read the kidnappers’ latest letter and called an emergency meeting of the advisers. The city leaders approved Christian’s departure on the midnight train. He would follow the kidnappers’ directions and carry a white valise. Instead of holding $20,000, though, the suitcase would contain a note demanding two conditions: the kidnappers needed to simultaneously exchange Charley for the money, and they needed to agree on a more intimate method of communication than newspaper personals offered.
At midnight, an undercover officer and Frank Lewis sat in the rear car of a train pulling away from the West Philadelphia depot. Christian stood behind them, outside on the train’s rear platform. He held the white valise and grasped the railing. For five hours, Christian scanned the passing landscape. He looked for hiding places and the kidnappers’ designated signal: a man waving a white flag and either ringing a bell or holding a torch. Because the trip had been scheduled so quickly, Christian had been unable to change out of his work clothes into more suitable night wear before making his outdoor trek. He shivered as the train moved through New Jersey mists, particularly when it passed through swampland. Underneath the full moon, Christian realized any parties watching could see him as well as he could see them. Later, he would write, “This of course kept up a painful flutter of anxiety over the whole route—for five mortal hours my brain and eyes were in a fixed agony.”
He arrived in New York, took a cab to Grand Central Station, and by 11:00 A.M., stood alert once again on the rear platform of a train bound for Albany. The train twisted and turned along the course of the Hudson River. Once again, Christian held his white valise in one hand and gripped the train railing with the other. He squinted through the engine smoke and hot afternoon sun, unable to wipe his face. His mind became so exhausted that he couldn’t decipher between railroad flagmen and his potential contact—on more than one occasion, he prepared to throw the valise before recognizing the rail-workers’ flags. Christian, his nephew, and the officer arrived at 1:00 P.M., checked into a hotel, and asked at the post office for a letter addressed to C. K. Walter. No such letter had arrived. As tired as he was from the rush of events over the past twenty-four hours, Christian couldn’t quiet his mind enough to sleep. He spent the rest of the day wandering around Albany.
The next morning, the men left on a 10:00 A.M. train and returned to Germantown that night.
PHILA 31 July.—Ros: Yu seem to have no faith in us whatever. at the time we supposed yu wer gitin redy to effect the change yu were as the Evening Star stated on you way to potsvill to see some child there. if yu had done as the last letter instructed you and let the potsvill affair alone yu would now have the plasure of seeing yu child safe at home after we had seen that yu had gone to potsvill we did not instruct our agent to meet yu from the fact we thought it was no use. to save yu al further trouble an vexation in runing around to false reports that yu child is found here, and found there, we tel yu candidly that yu child is not in the possession of any woman or family or that his hair is cut off short.
The Philadelphia Public Ledger. August 1.
“John, your directions were followed, you did not keep faith. Point out some sure and less public way of communicating either by letter or person.”
PHILA. Aug, 3.—Ros—in not keeping our apointment with yu was entirely a mistake from the fact of havin seen a statement in evening star that yu had gone to potsvill on the
day you was to setle this bisines with us. we saw the mistake but not in time to communicate with our agent or to notify yu not to go as we directed yu. Yu say yu want us to point out some sure way by which this money can be transmited to us—of course we can not call on yu personaly neither can we receive it by letter. Ros— We will make the followin proposition to yu and if yu comply with the terms propounded we wil settle this bisines in very quick time satisfactory to both parties concerned so far as the restoration of your child is concerned.
Proposition 1st. Yu wil hand the box with the amount in to our agent when he calls to yu store.
Proposition 2d. Yu wil hand him the box, ask him no questions—not folow him—not put any one to folow him—not tel him what the box contains—not notify the detectives so they can folow him—not do anything that wil interupt its transit to us.
The Philadelphia Public Ledger. August 3.
“John. Propositions are impossible. Action must be simultaneous.”
PHILADELPHIA, August 4.—Ros: do yu supose that we would produce the child and hand him over to you the instant yu paid the money to us. the thing is absurd to think of such a change, we are not redy yet to have chains put on us for life. when yu receive this we shal be at least 200 miles from here we leave the detectives of phila and Mr tagget to work out their clues. we think we have left no clues behind us. Charley wil remain where he was taken the second night after he left home. if Mr tagget can find a clue to that place he wil no doubt get the reward we have no feminies into that place. charley will never come out of there. it shal be his everlasting tomb—unless the ransom brings him out. we are not destitute of a few dollars yet, charley shal never starve to death if death it must be, it shal come upon him as instant as the lightning strock itself. Mr Ros, if you have anything to say to us it must be through the personals of New York Herald.