by Carrie Hagen
Moran had grown up in Douglas’s neighborhood. He had also been an arresting officer in the burglary that sent Mosher and Douglas, tied by the neck, to jail. Years before this arrest, Mosher and Douglas had briefly found positions as deputy marshals in Moran’s police district. After the criminals shot a man unlawfully, Moran arrested them for “felonious assault.” Mosher and Douglas were soon released.
The day of Westervelt’s tip, the police had a hard time locating Officer Moran. By the time he got the message and arrived at the ferry, Moran found out that men fitting the description of Mosher and Douglas had passed through minutes before. The officer had either unfortunately been detained in other business or had not wanted to arrive on the scene in time to trap the thieves.
NEW YORK, August 21.—Mr. Ros: we have heard nothing from yu since we wrote yu about 3 weeks ago. we have therefor come to the conclusion that yu don’t mean to redeem yu child on the conditions which we proposed. yu must bear in mind we would never agree to any other terms. the fact of yu saying the action must be symultainous is absolutely imposible. we would require at least a few ours to examine the mony and see if it were spurious or all marked up and then but a few ours more would be necessary to place yu child in yu possession for he is not so far off as yu may imagin. now we demand yu anser yes or now as we are going to urope the 24 Sept and he has got to be disposed of one way or the other by that time. if you say redeem him it has got to be on our terms alone if yu do not answer we shall take it as granted that yu dont mean to pay yu money. we shall act accordingly. address (John New Herald personals.) you are listing to old womans visions and dreams which wil never find yu child. we could have told yu it was useless to go to illinoise to look for charly but yu would not have believed us.
New York Herald. August 23.
“John. Did not answer, because your proposition led my friends to doubt whether you ever had it. Write, giving better proof, and name an attorney, or other person, through whom arrangements can be made.”
ALBANY, August 26.— Mr. Ros—ask Walter if one of the men did not hold him between his legs an partly on his knee with the cloth in front of him while Charley set behind us both entirely out of sight—ask him if he did not want to go up on main road to git fireworks and we told him would first go to ant Susy’s that she kep a shop we could get them cheaper. ask him if we did not keep givin him pieces of candy as we rode along. ask him if we did not go from your house west to Morton street and then south instead of going towards the depot on Washington lane as it has been stated in the papers these remarks we think are suficient to prove to yu that we are the men who took him if yu have received any other letters headed other than Ros or Mr. Ros they are forgeries, we have sent you 8 or 10 letters in all, if you had accepted the proposition we made yu some four weeks ago yu would now without doubt have yu child safe in yu own house but yu rejected the offer and left us without the means to negotiate with yu. do you want to daly along and keep your child month after month living in a place where the strongest Could not live over one year. we would not let him unncessarily sufer but this exteriordary search has made it necessary to keep him where the light of the sun has never shown upon him since the 2d day of July. we have seen Charley about 4 days ago his whole cry is he wants Walter to come see him and he is afraid he wil not go to Atlantic City with his mother.
ask Walter if
WALLING INTERPRETED THE KIDNAPPERS’ REPETITIVE INSTRUCtions, pleading threats, and increasingly desperate tone as proof that the police were closing in on an arrest. He wrote to Captain Heins on August 24.
I am more confident than ever that the parties, Clark and Mosher, alias Johnson, are the parties we want. I knew before receiving your letter that they were somewhere in this vicinity. Some one has let them know that they are being looked after, and that is the reason for their change of tone. They are frightened, and would, I believe, make terms very moderate, provided they could be assured of safety. There is no danger of their going to Europe; they have no money, and Mosher’s wife and children would keep him here. Of this you can assure Mr. Ross, providing I am right as to the parties, and I have no doubt of it. I think it would be well for Mr. Ross to keep in communication—if possible—with them.
Yours, in haste,
GEO. W. WALLING
Summoning Walter once again, the authorities asked him the questions listed in the latest ransom letter. He agreed with all of the kidnappers’ answers except one: Walter insisted that the wagon did drive up Washington Lane toward Germantown Avenue.
The press informed the public of telegrams sent, almost daily, between Philadelphia and New York. They asked why the authorities withheld correspondence from a city that responded emotionally to every false report of Charley’s recovery. They also wondered why Mayor Stokley had been on vacation at the beach. The Evening Bulletin said the “management” needed to account for those decisions that disappointed the public.
We refer to the absurd and reprehensible excess to which the attempt at secrecy has been carried, not so much, perhaps, by the police authorities, whose professional training has taught them when to be silent and when to speak, but by a little coterie of non-professionals who, for their own gratification or from an idea of, their superior sagacity, have injected themselves so skillfully into the management of this case as to have made the police of an almost secondary importance and authority.
The Inquirer agreed. The paper continued asking readers to place faith and money in private detectives. “County district attorneys cannot, unaided, contend with this demoralization. They need assistance from shrewd and experienced men above the class of township constables, men who know the ways of professional criminals, and know how to circumvent them.” A private group of citizens heeded this advice when they obtained Christian’s blessing and hired the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Immediately, the Philadelphia Pinkerton office offered a more specific reward than that of Stokley, Taggart, or the Pennsylvania Detective Bureau.
Abduction of Charlie Brewster Ross—
$1,000 Reward
The above reward will be paid to the person who shall first discover and give information of the owner of the horse and buggy used in the abduction of Charlie Brewster Ross, and for information of the house where the abductors were stopping at the time of and previous to the abduction; or $500 will be paid for either of said specific information.
This approach made sense. After almost eight weeks, no detective, officer, or neighbor had traced the horse and buggy used for the kidnapping. Daily, Pinkerton would report its progress to a group selected by those who hired them.
The Inquirer applauded the decision to hire Pinkerton. It wrote that while “the wisest and most eminent of our citizens” had failed the investigation, Pinkerton had a reputation for solving crimes. Benjamin Franklin, a former chief of the Philadelphia detective corps and head of the Philadelphia office, printed more circulars with more detailed descriptions of Charley, the kidnappers, and the horse and buggy. Pinkerton sent the flyers to police stations, train stations, and public offices throughout the country in early September. They also sent a private memo to the nation’s police officers and detectives; it listed confidential questions, answers, and identifying information to help investigators distinguish the real Charley from the field of lost children and con artists.
Who is your uncle on Washington Lane?—Uncle Joe.
What is your cousin’s name?—Cousin Joe or Cousin George or Cousin Frank.
Who lives next door to pap?—Marcellus McDowell or Jennie McDowell.
What horse does mam drive?—Polly.
He can recite Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.
He knows only “O” and “S” of the alphabet.
He will state his name as Charley Ross, but asked if he has another name, will say “Charles Brewster Ross.”
He can give the names of his brothers Stoughton, Harry, Walter, his sisters Sophie and Mary, of Dr. Dunton, the family physician, and the name of hi
s Sunday school teacher, Miss Mary Cope.
Privately, Christian asked his own set of questions.
“With whom is he?
“Are they kind to him?
“Do his childish eyes which knew nothing but home and home kindness see sights revolting?
“Is he closely confined, or has he been carried far away to avoid pursuit?
“Does he hear brutal language?
“Are the scenes about him so strange that his memory of us gradually fails, and his recollections of love, home and friends will all be swept away?”
Until this point, Christian had refused to release a photograph of Charley because he feared the kidnappers: their letters continued to warn him about cooperating with detectives, and if Pinkerton reprinted a photograph of Charley, they would know Christian had provided it. But perhaps the news about the Mosher brothers made Christian feel stronger, because he agreed to pass a picture of Charley along to Benjamin Franklin. The only one available had been taken when Charley was two, so an artist interviewed Sarah about her son’s features and augmented the photo appropriately. This photo, along with pictures of Christian and Sarah, was mailed with the private memos.
The Inquirer asked its readers to contribute to the fund for Pinkerton’s expenses. “Those who desire to aid in these renewed and promising efforts to recover the child of Mr. Ross through Pinkerton’s Agency can do so by sending contributions to GEORGE PHILLER, Esq., President of the First National Bank, Philadelphia, by whom it will be acknowledged and judiciously applied.” The request received immediate feedback. Judges, lawyers, and businessmen contributed along with those from humbler means. One response came from school-children.
ED. PHILADA. INQUIRER:—Papa has been telling us what you say in your paper about wanting money to pay detectives to find CHARLEY ROSS, and he says little boys who have got money should give some. We want CHARLEY ROSS brought home to his papa and mamma, and give these six dollars to help find him.
Frank, Harry, John and Dana Chesterman.
The Public Ledger warned readers against wasting their money on private investigators who would most likely attempt negotiating with the kidnappers and asked why the criminals would endanger themselves by communicating with a third party. Privately, the advisers feared Pinkerton’s involvement. As a chapter of Pinkerton’s national bureau, Benjamin Franklin’s office might expose the political motives behind their strategy, so instead of soliciting Franklin as a consultant, the paper compared all private detectives to the thief catchers of the past. In a way, they were.
While many law-enforcement officials continued to contract themselves out as thief catchers, the job had been most popular prior to the establishment of the organized police force in the 1840s. Even so, in the 1870s, only a few private detective agencies tried to protect their reputations by publicly distancing themselves from criminal association. Pinkerton was one of these agencies. The public assumed most other detectives—private and police—compromised their official work for their own financial gain. With the Centennial on the horizon, Mayor Stokley knew that in order to attract tourists to the city, its citizens needed to feel safer. And that wouldn’t happen as long as editorials reminded them of police corruption and incompetence. Even if the Ross investigation lingered, he needed to find a way to promote a more positive civic image. In an effort to build the integrity of the force, Stokley authorized Chief Jones to release a statement to the press.
“I, Kennard H. Jones, Chief of Police, do hereby notify all citizens that the officers of this department forego any part or portion of said reward in favor of the person or persons who will communicate with me secretly or otherwise such information as will lead to the arrest and conviction of the abductors and restoration of the child.”
KENNARD H. JONES, Chief of Police.
The papers acknowledged that the announcement represented an intention to follow Pinkerton’s stance against criminal association. It didn’t, however, stop the pens of writers who continued to accuse the mayor and Chief Jones of abdicating their authority to the Republican counselors. The Evening Bulletin challenged Mayor Stokley to free himself from the advisers’ instructions: “The time has fully come for the Mayor and the police authorities to take such action as will make them the sole judges in this matter of public information.” Even if this charge had pressured Stokley into asserting his voice, his police didn’t have the time to engage in a power struggle with “the mysterious directorate.” Correspondence piled onto the stacks of potential leads: across the country, con artists continued to lay claims to the reward, and even though out-of-state authorities conducted their own investigations, they often asked Philadelphia’s force to come and confirm their suspicions. So many police detectives paid their own travel expenses that the Evening Bulletin suggested the mayor develop an expense account.
Although the paper was generally critical of police behavior, the Bulletin spoke highly at times of Captain Heins, a man they identified as “running after any and every shadow that gives the faintest trace of hope, seemingly never tiring, yet always returning with downcast countenance.” One reporter obtained an interview with him at a train station in mid-August.
“Do you want to talk?” the reporter asked.
“No; what can I say? I’ve got nothing to talk about,” Heins replied with a smile.
“Is there anything to look forward to?”
“Well, you know I am a very hopeful man. I can’t give you anything definite, but I don’t give the case up. I hope we will get down to something. I hope in God we will.”
“Why cannot we publish the letters that have been received?”
“They are withheld because their publication would be of no avail.”
“Are they in the possession of the police authorities?”
“No; Mr. Ross has possession of them.”
“And he refused to allow of their publication?”
“Yes—at the advice of others.”
“Is he advised by the police?”
“No. He is so advised by his own counselors.”
The public could not condemn these “counselors” as much as the Bulletin and Inquirer demanded because they did not fully understand Christian’s role in the investigation. They assumed he and the advisers were members of the same group, and therefore their attitude toward Christian affected their perception of the advisers. Initially, people’s empathy for the Ross family excused reportorial anger aimed at the advisers because Christian was the figurehead of the search. Editorials criticizing the faceless advisers conjured images of the distraught parents, and readers could easily dismiss writers’ civic frustrations as political statements. Yet as Pinkerton’s search provided no real leads, this dynamic began to change. When readers began agreeing with criticism written about the advisers, Christian Ross, the public image at the fore-front of the investigation, became a suspect. New York millionaire Arthur Purcell, the man who publicly offered to pay the ransom and negotiate the return of Charley, was one of the first to question Christian’s integrity in the New York Herald.
I advertised more than one month ago (July 26) for the immediate return to me of the boy Charley Ross, on certain conditions and for a stated reason. This I did in good faith. I did not, nor do not, propose to deal with second parties, police, detectives or the Ross family. I so stated, clearly. A full month has passed and I am not in receipt of any direct information. As I now have good grounds for doubting that any crime has been committed, and for believing that this affair will be officially compounded, I hereby withdraw the reward. I will not be duped by any official combination. As only detectives and confidence men have replied, I have no one to thank.
ARTHUR PURCELL
On the one hand, Purcell’s bitterness speaks from a wounded ego. He had said in July that his motive was to relieve the worry of his invalid wife. Had the kidnappers accepted his terms, they would have been $20,000 richer and Charley would be home. The public would have exalted Purcell as a model husband and an Americ
an idol. But the kidnappers didn’t take his money. Purcell failed in his efforts to be a hero. His language, full of “I did,” “I will not,” “I have,” asserted his control over the situation he created; faulting other parties for his botched efforts, Purcell channeled any criticism aimed at his withdrawal to speculation over Christian’s honor. Instead of saving the day, he made it worse.
Still, his words reminded the public of one important question: Why hadn’t the kidnappers taken Purcell’s money? The millionaire had offered exactly what the kidnappers wanted, yet they refused it. Their rejection meant one of three things: the kidnapping was about more than money; Charley was dead; or the involved parties couldn’t agree on how to proceed anymore. From what Walling and the police could determine from Gil Mosher, it didn’t seem as though the suspects had a personal vendetta against Christian Ross; based on conversations they had with William Westervelt, they knew that Bill Mosher and Joseph Douglas were on the run from something. Whoever the kidnappers were, their ransom notes revealed various truths about Charley’s language and health that they could know only with the passing of time. Investigators’ instincts suspected he was still alive. So why did the kidnappers refuse Purcell’s money? The only remaining logical answer was that they couldn’t agree on how to end their crime.
Like Purcell, members of the public and the press turned on Christian because they felt like pawns. Somebody was manipulating their emotions by changing the rules of the game. When it began, the finish line was the ransom payment and the prize was Charley. Now, reward after reward later, this wasn’t the case. The kidnappers weren’t playing by the rules. The masters of the game had either lied or been replaced—regardless, people had a new unknown to process. Christian was the only player whose face they knew, so he became the target of blame.
Prior to Purcell’s public withdrawal, the advisers had resumed their conversation with the kidnappers.