by Carrie Hagen
“No, sir, never,” Walter answered.
Hedden turned to Christian. “I did not think he was one of the persons who took the children, but I wanted to be certain he was not; yet I believe he is connected with the matter, and is in communication with the abductors.” Hedden took Christian and Walter back to police headquarters, where Walling told Christian about Clinton “Gil” Mosher and his brother Bill. Walling also identified the man Captain Hedden had asked Walter about earlier in the day. His name was William Westervelt, and he was Bill Mosher’s brother-in-law.
now we demand yu anser
WALLING KNEW IT WOULDN’T BE EASY TO FIND BILL MOSHER. The man knew how to hide: he had been a criminal for more than half his life.
Mosher had grown up on a section of Brooklyn called Green Point. His father had been a somewhat successful ship captain, and when Mosher was a child, his older brother Gil taught him the family’s boat-building trade. In between jobs, both brothers worked with river-pirate gangs. During one robbery, a cask fell on Mosher’s left hand, an injury that caused the flesh around the nail of his index finger to wither into a sharp point.
At the time of the Ross kidnapping, the brothers weren’t speaking. Their parents had died, as had twelve of their thirteen siblings. In his younger years, Gil’s crime of choice had been stealing horses. He had served time in prison for his burglaries but maintained his naval trade and a relationship with his family. The Mosher parents hadn’t been so forgiving with Gil’s younger brother Bill. They had disowned him years before they died because of his criminal associations.
In his twenties, Bill Mosher joined a successful gang called the Daybreak Boys. He and his partners Nicholas Saul, William Howlet, Slobbery Jim, Patsy “the Barber” Conroy, Cowlegged Sam McCarthy, and Saul Madden spent time at James and Water streets in Manhattan, an intersection the police nicknamed Slaughter House Point. The Daybreak Boys, one of the first river-pirate gangs to organize themselves as a private crime enterprise, attacked ships in the East River, the Hudson, and the Hudson’s harbors at dawn. Between 1850 and 1852, the gang stole more than $100,000 in merchandise and murdered at least twenty men. Police often found victims floating around docks with their pockets turned out. In 1853, a ship watchman surprised the heads of the gang, Nicholas Saul and William Howlet, when they climbed aboard his boat. Witnesses watched as Saul and Howlet shot him in the heart. Police arrested the two when their rowboat came back to shore, and the judge sentenced the men, aged nineteen and twenty, to death. They were hanged inside a prison nicknamed “the Tombs” on the outskirts of the Five Points. After the execution, the Daybreak Boys broke up. Mosher kept his hand in river piracy, appearing before the police chief as a suspect for one particularly gruesome robbery four years later. The police couldn’t hold him long. Unfortunately, someone had beaten the ship’s captain with a handspike during the incident, and the wounded man couldn’t identify or remember his assailants.
Over the next twenty years, Bill Mosher married a much younger woman, took on woodworking jobs, and dabbled in failed business ventures. Once, he secured a financier to set him up in a fish business on Ridge Street in Manhattan. Six months later, the business failed. Mosher then opened a saloon, where he lived with his wife and their baby. Within a short time, the little boy died. Having no money for a funeral, they buried his bones in the wall. They left them there when the bar closed for good.
Mosher also worked for “fencers” who received and repackaged stolen goods, and he helped train younger burglars. In his hometown of Green Point, Mosher recruited a young teenage thief named Joseph Douglas. Mosher introduced Douglas to a tenement house in Manhattan where older thieves taught younger ones how to better burglarize, blow safes, blackmail, and pickpocket. Superintendent Walling first knew Joseph Douglas when his name came up in the Ross investigation as Joseph Smith.
Mosher and Douglas developed a part-time piracy practice along the shores of Baltimore, Philadelphia, New Jersey, and New York. The two men built a shack on Berrian’s Island in Long Island Sound, where they hid their bounty until they were ready to sell it at fencing operations doubling as haberdasheries, tailors’ shops, and furniture houses in and around the Five Points. From there, they set out on a trip by boat that took them to Red Bank, New Jersey, robbing country stores along the shore as they proceeded. On another night, after filling their boat with fancy clothes on a Red Bank run, they passed some fishermen. Later that night, police raided their island shack and found them sleeping inside of it. Three river police officers named Doyle, Silleck, and Moran made the arrest. The thieves were tied by their necks and taken to the Monmouth County Jail. Their stay was brief. Cutting through a wall, Mosher found a way to escape. Later, he learned that it was not the fishermen but his brother Gil who had informed the police about his Red Bank robbery.
With his partner in hiding, Douglas moved to Brooklyn, changed his last name to Clark, and found a job as a streetcar driver. The police next heard about the two men six years later, when Gil Mosher brought their names to Officer Doyle’s attention in July of 1874.
If he wanted to bring Bill Mosher in for questioning, Walling knew he had to rely on Gil: the man’s greed for the reward money, combined with his criminal connections, would lead him to Bill before Walling’s men could track him. What Walling wanted most from Gil was a sample of his brother’s handwriting so police could connect Bill Mosher directly to the ransom letters. Since his visit to Walling’s office at the beginning of August, Gil had traveled with New York officer Doyle to Camden, New Jersey, Philadelphia, and Baltimore. Gil had also made numerous stops to the New York apartment of William Westervelt in search of his brother. After Westervelt and his wife, Mary, repeatedly told him that they had not seen Bill, Gil’s wife, Liz, began visiting the Westervelts and asking for Bill Mosher’s family. Westervelt questioned her motives, and Liz said detectives wanted to ask about some stolen silks. Westervelt assumed she was lying and that she and Gil were trying to collect the $20,000 reward.
On August 10, the same day that Christian and Walter went to New York, Westervelt wrote to Bill Mosher. The letter informed Bill of his brother’s repeated visits to Westervelt’s apartment and was sent to Monroe Street in Philadelphia. Two days later, Gil returned to Westervelt’s door and gave him a letter for Bill. He said it requested a meeting. Westervelt forwarded the note to Philadelphia the next day.
Bill Mosher and his accomplice Joseph Douglas showed up at Westervelt’s apartment on Wednesday, August 14. Mosher had received Westervelt’s warning in the mail. Westervelt asked if he had received the letter from Gil he had mailed the day before. He had not.
“What does he want?” Mosher asked.
“Don’t know,” Westervelt replied.
“Where does he work?”
“Moss’s shop on Mangin Street,” Westervelt answered.
“Let’s go down and see what he wants,” Mosher said.
Three blocks away from the store, Mosher told Douglas and Westervelt to find Gil without him. He said he would wait inside a saloon on the corner, and when the others found his brother, he wanted them to take Gil on a walk past the saloon so he could see how he looked.
Douglas accompanied Westervelt to Moss’s shop.
“Is Gil Mosher here?” Westervelt asked the storekeeper.
“I don’t know that name,” the man answered.
Westervelt described him.
“A man named Ryan fits the description,” the storekeeper replied. “He’s not here.”
Westervelt and Douglas walked to the corner of Allen and Houston Streets, where Mosher waited inside the saloon. Westervelt went inside, and Douglas went across the street to visit a fortune-teller named Madame Morrow. Madame Morrow also had a home in Philadelphia, where she went by her married name, Morris. Her sons Ed and Ike were longtime acquaintances and sometime colleagues of the Mosher brothers.
When Douglas returned to the saloon, he told Mosher that Gil had also been looking for him at Madame Morrow’s. Mosher
stood up and then rushed across the street to ask Madame Morrow more questions about his brother. Fifteen minutes later, he returned, crying and cursing. Westervelt tried to calm him down, but Mosher demanded that Westervelt go to Gil’s house with a letter. He asked the bartender for paper, pen, and ink, gave them to Westervelt, and asked him to write as he dictated:
“Tell Gil I do not see what he can want of me. I have no time to meet him or money to spend. Tell him to explain more fully what he wants.”
Westervelt agreed to take the letter to Gil. He arranged to meet Bill Mosher and Douglas at Stromberg’s saloon on Mott Street later in the day, then went to Gil’s house.
Liz Mosher answered the door. She asked again for Bill Mosher, repeating her concern that police wanted to arrest him for stolen silks.
Westervelt read the letter out loud to her.
“Can I trust you with the truth?” she asked Westervelt.
“Yes,” he replied.
“The police suspect Bill of taking Charley Ross,” she said. “Gil needs to talk to him.”
Westervelt went to Stromberg’s and found Bill Mosher and Douglas at a table in the back, far enough away that the bartender could hear only mumbles. By now, Stromberg had noticed that while Westervelt remained calm when he talked to his two friends, the one he called Henderson (Bill Mosher) became upset and fidgety. Before the men left Stromberg’s that afternoon, Bill Mosher asked Westervelt to go to Philadelphia and convince his wife, Martha, Westervelt’s sister, to leave the city with their children. Bill asked Westervelt to let him know if his family was safe from Gil by posting an ad in the New York Herald.
“If she is fine, and nobody is looking,” Bill said, write “Napoleon— I have seen them and they are well.
“But if they are in danger,” Bill continued, write, “Napoleon—I have seen them and they are not well.”
Westervelt went home, changed his shirt, and left on the 7:00 P.M. train for Philadelphia.
Kate Morgan settled into her rented room at the Henderson home in South Philadelphia. It was a fine enough place for a single woman to live. People minded their own business there, so she could come and go as she pleased. Her landlord didn’t appear very often. When he did, he usually arrived with his younger red-headed friend. In mid-August, a neighbor named Mrs. Mary O’Leary noticed a former male tenant visiting the Hendersons. The man was big and burly, with whiskers, a moustache, and dark hair. He, his wife, and their two children had lived with the Hendersons earlier that year. Mrs. O’Leary knew the landlady, Martha Henderson. She saw her boys playing around the house, and she knew the woman had stayed inside her home most of July, especially the week of the 13th, when she gave birth to a girl.
Kate Morgan noticed the visitor, but had never seen him before. William Westervelt had moved out of the house by the time Kate arrived. Over the past month, she had, however, become familiar with Willie, Charley, and Georgie—Mrs. Henderson’s three boys. Kate noticed that the boy Charley was called “Lovie” most of the time.
Martha Mosher told her brother that she couldn’t immediately move her children and their belongings to New York. She said she needed time. Westervelt left his sister’s home on Saturday, August 14. Before taking the train back to New York, he traveled up Germantown’s Main Street and entered a store. He asked the keeper, a Mr. McDowell, for some water. McDowell obliged, pausing to talk with his visitor about the day’s warm temperature. Westervelt asked him if this was the town where the child Charley Ross had been kidnapped.
“Yes,” McDowell said. He mentioned the parents’ grief and his own sadness for them.
“Do you know Christian Ross?” Westervelt asked.
“Yes,” responded McDowell. “He goes to my church.”
Westervelt asked if he knew whether Christian’s business was failing.
“I know nothing about it,” said McDowell, “but I think that’s true.”
“Is his brother-in-law a rich man?” continued Westervelt.
“I believe he is,” McDowell answered.
Westervelt thanked McDowell and left the store. The shopkeeper would remember this conversation, but he didn’t share it at the time.
After returning to New York, Westervelt chose not to post the “Napoleon” ad in the Herald as Mosher had asked. Three days later, one of Martha’s tenants took her, the three boys, and her newborn daughter to the train station.
The same day his sister arrived in New York, Westervelt met a former police colleague at another saloon on Grand Street in Five Points. The acquaintance told him that Superintendent Walling wanted to speak with him. Westervelt trusted his companion enough to walk with him to the Thirteenth Precinct.
The Thirteenth Precinct was located inside police headquarters, a four-story building with a white stone exterior at 300 Mulberry Street. Two doors led visitors and prisoners inside—the front on Mulberry Street, the back on Mott Street. Marble framed the front entrance on Mulberry, and when Westervelt walked under the words, “Central Bureau of Metropolitan Police,” he was only blocks away from Stromberg’s bar, his point of rendezvous with Mosher and Douglas.
As soon as Westervelt entered the building, Captain Hedden met him and took him upstairs to the second floor. Hedden escorted Westervelt into a suite reserved for the commissioners, and then into a smaller room, where he asked him to submit to a search for pawn tickets that matched some stolen silks. Westervelt resisted. Hedden forced him to empty his pockets and left the suite with the contents.
Hedden didn’t return for two hours. During that time, Westervelt waited alone. Most of the office spaces at headquarters had white walls and plain carpets. The furniture matched in the different rooms—a few chairs in each faced a desk carved from black walnut wood. White linen shades hung from the windows. On the street below, the Five Points scene contrasted sharply with the minimalist police building. Bars attracted their typical clientele through this night’s hours. Drunks, workers, and criminals moved past headquarters just like they staggered by any other building on Mott and Mulberry Streets. Two floors above them, Westervelt wondered what Captain Hedden would try to make him do when he returned.
Another officer accompanied Hedden’s arrival. Both demanded that Westervelt undergo a strip search. When he refused, they arrested him. Hedden walked Westervelt back downstairs, past the Superintendent’s rooms on the first floor. But instead of leading him down another set of stairs to the basement cells, he took Westervelt to Walling’s private residence on Nineteenth Street.
Hedden and the other officer stood watch at the superintendent’s front door, as if waiting for thugs to spring from the dark and try to rescue Westervelt. Inside, Walling talked to the disgraced ex-cop. He asked if Westervelt knew that his brother-in-law was suspected of kidnapping Charley Ross.
Before arriving at Walling’s home, Westervelt had plenty of time to think about why Hedden was bullying him. Surely he knew that the police would ask for Bill Mosher, and by the time Walling got to the point, Westervelt had studied his answer options.
“Bill Mosher wouldn’t have taken a child,” he said. He told Walling that Gil Mosher and his wife Liz were framing Bill in order to claim the reward money.
“That money can be yours,” Walling replied, “if you locate Mosher for us.”
Westervelt called him a liar.
Walling repeated that Westervelt could have the reward money. He asked him to put himself in Christian Ross’s shoes, to imagine what he would do if he knew that somebody could lead the police to the kidnapper of his child. Westervelt didn’t empathize very easily. He talked to Walling for two more hours before admitting that he had been in recent contact with Bill Mosher and Joseph Douglas. The offer of a reward no doubt engaged his interest in continuing, perhaps conducting, parts of the conversation.
Walling asked if Mosher had responded to his brother Gil’s letter.
“Yes,” Westervelt answered. He said he himself had written the reply. He told Walling that he would consider cooperating if his co
nditions were met: he didn’t want Mosher and Douglas to know about his betrayal, and he didn’t want Walling’s officers to know whatever information he gave the superintendent. Walling accepted the terms and released Westervelt from custody. He then directed Westervelt to communicate only with him.
As Westervelt left Walling’s home, he assumed control of the next part of the investigation. Walling may have thought that the disgraced policeman would do what he could to claim the reward money and rebuild his reputation with the force, but Westervelt had spent enough time on the streets—as a cop and as a criminal—to know that Walling’s motivation was selfish. Why else would the superintendent have had Hedden bring him to his home, instead of instructing the captain to lock him up in a cell, where Walling could easily question him whenever he wanted? Westervelt knew that Walling could claim something from the reward just as much as he could—but he could only do so with Westervelt’s participation. As soon as he got the information he wanted, Walling could arrest Westervelt along with Mosher and Douglas and reconstruct—maybe even completely deny, with Hedden’s help—the late-night conversation. Westervelt, though, would have the superintendent’s complete attention as long as he provided enough information to keep him interested. And while he played the role of informant on his own terms, he could figure out how to best use his newfound power to his advantage.
Soon after the meeting at Walling’s home, Westervelt contacted Walling with a lead. He told him that Mosher and Douglas were bound for Astoria on the ferry, and if they stationed officers on the East River at Ninety-second Street, they could catch the thieves, who would be dressed as fishermen and carrying a slate-colored bag. Walling immediately contacted the Thirteenth Precinct and sent Westervelt’s message to an Officer Moran.