The Lost Tribe of Coney Island

by Claire Prentice

  At the ticket office, Barker took out his government identification and pushed to the front of the line. Had the agent served an American man, around forty years of age with a midwestern accent, who was traveling with a party of fifteen or so dark-skinned foreigners? The agent called over a colleague. Yes, he knew of the party. He hadn’t seen them but he’d received a telegram late the previous night requesting a car be arranged to take a party of eighteen on the 12:35 am northbound train from Lake Shore Junction, just north of Milwaukee, to St. Paul, Minnesota.1 The man who sent the telegram had given them very short notice, but they’d managed to get a car organized.

  Thanking him, Barker fought the temptation to get on the next train to St. Paul. Truman and the Igorrotes could have gotten off the train at St. Paul or any one of the stations en route, and from there traveled on to just about anywhere. Besides, the bureau had made it clear that they wanted to be kept informed every step of the way. There was nothing to do but to return to Chicago and see if anyone there had heard anything more. Maybe Sallie would let something slip. Barker would telegraph McIntyre to let him know what he’d learned and await further instruction. The bureau had requested assistance from the Secret Service. With their help it shouldn’t take them too long to find the showman.

  Outside, Barker bought a newspaper. Truman’s midnight flight was recounted under the headline DR. T. K. HUNT CANCELS DATE: MANAGER OF IGORROTES EVADES GOVERNMENT.2 Barker read on: “The whole trouble between the former Iowan doctor and governor of Bontoc, Philippine Islands, is said to grow out of the fact that Dr. Hunt is not prepared to kill the goose that lays his golden eggs.” At least they’d gotten some of the facts right.

  Debate was raging within the US government on the topic of what should be done with Truman once he was arrested. Some senior officials wanted to wrap the matter up quickly and quietly with the minimum of fuss, even if that meant letting Truman go unpunished for his crimes. But McIntyre and Paul Charlton, law officer at the bureau, were both of the view that “[Truman] should have the fear of God put into him through proceedings either criminal or quasi-criminal.”3

  There were a number of charges they could pursue, including breach of contract and larceny. However, Charlton feared it was pointless to pursue the showman for breach of contract because Truman was “probably entirely worthless”4 and therefore without the means to pay the Filipinos even a fraction of what he owed them. In the fourteen months he had been exhibiting the Igorrotes, Truman and his associates must have made hundreds of thousands of dollars. What on earth had the showman spent his share on? Was he a gambler? Surely even he couldn’t have drunk his way through that much liquor.

  Back in Chicago a telegram arrived for Barker from McIntyre, telling him to go to Minneapolis. Barker didn’t want to waste precious time on another wild goose chase, so first he sent a telegram to the Minneapolis chief of police. At Barker’s request the police chief sent his men out to all the city show grounds and amusement parks. But they found no sign of Truman or the tribe. Barker was running out of options. He put a call in to the US Secret Service to see if they had heard anything of Truman. Within hours Barker received word that Truman and the Igorrotes were in Winnipeg, Canada. A third group was believed to be in New Haven, Connecticut,5 possibly with Hopkins.

  Of course, thought Barker, Truman had fled across the border. The showman was a cunning opponent. He knew that by taking the tribe out of the US and into another country he would add a layer of complication to Barker’s already difficult job.

  In the late afternoon of the Fourth of July, Barker sat on a train to Winnipeg with Schneidewind and Julio. The government agent hoped they might still get control of Truman’s Igorrotes and the holiday takings before the night was out. But it was a long shot.

  Barker had been on the case for a fortnight, and with each passing day, and each Houdini-like disappearance from Truman, his determination had grown to see justice done. The government had sent him to Chicago for political reasons, of course, but his own motives had grown increasingly personal since he had met the tribespeople and heard firsthand about the abuses and indignities they had suffered. He was determined to see Truman punished and to get the Igorrotes at least some of the money they were due.

  Barker, Schneidewind, and Julio sat in silence for most of the train journey. They were tired and had exhausted the conversation about Truman and his exploits for now. As the train inched toward the Canadian border, fireworks flashed in the distance as people gathered at parades, parties, and picnics to celebrate Independence Day.

  For his part, Schneidewind was rather enjoying chasing across the country after his rival. He had to admit he was looking forward to seeing Truman get his comeuppance. He wondered what had happened to the former doctor, colonial official, and supporter of the Igorrotes to make him behave in such a cruel manner. He knew Truman had long had a reckless streak and that he enjoyed carousing, but that was true of many Americans who’d found themselves in the Philippines at the turn of the century. From what his business associates told him, Truman, the great braggart, was now a penniless drunk.

  Julio gazed through the window. When he first arrived in America, he’d spent their train journeys looking out of the window trying to memorize every detail of the changing landscape. Now he noticed nothing. He was too busy thinking about the twists and turns his life had taken over the last sixteen months. Julio had been hurt and angered by his experience with Truman, but it wasn’t enough to put him off America for good. He still felt instinctively that the country could be the making of him, with the myriad opportunities it offered that he would never have at home.

  Julio knew that Maria didn’t feel the same way. She missed her family and was eager to get back. But if Barker made good on his promises and Truman was sent to prison, Julio hoped it would persuade his wife to give America another chance. Earlier that day Schneidewind had asked Julio how he’d feel about going into business with him and bringing another Igorrote exhibition group to America the following year. Julio was very tempted.

  Sixty-two miles north of the border in Winnipeg, it wasn’t a national holiday, but that didn’t stop the owners of Happyland Park from throwing a huge Fourth of July party. The thirty-two-acre park was brand-new for the 1906 season and had only been operating six weeks when the manager, W. O. Edmunds, secured the Igorrotes for their first and only Canadian appearance. Edmunds had booked the Filipinos for two weeks and paid far more than he wanted to, but Truman was a convincing salesman who had promised his outlay would be repaid ten times over.

  The atmosphere was festive in the park. As a holiday special, Happyland was offering free admission for mothers and their children before eight o’clock and had laid on “everything from peanuts to athletic sports and fireworks.”6 Truman announced the Igorrotes would be holding a special holiday dog feast. In one corner of the village, a group of mongrels stood barking and yapping as the Filipinos lit their fires. Before they got started, Truman told Fox, his brother-in-law, that he was leaving. He’d be back in a few days. With that he snatched a fistful of dollars from the ticket booth and slipped out into the crowd.

  The Igorrotes were glad to see Truman leave. His moods had grown increasingly unpredictable and he lied constantly. Here they were in yet another new city, holding yet another dog feast. Truman had said nothing about when they might be reunited with the other groups, let alone when they were going home. Even under Truman’s loose definition of their contracts, the year they had agreed to exhibit for him was up. The Igorrotes’ own copies of their contracts, however, had long since mysteriously disappeared from their luggage.

  Fox wasn’t much better than Truman. He didn’t speak their dialect or Spanish. Instead he used a mixture of sign language and grunts to communicate with them, and his manner was bullying.

  After the dog feast, the holiday crowds threw so many coins into the village that Fox ran out of cloth bags to hold them all. Back in the office, he stuffed some of the money into his pocket, then put the re
st in the safe for Truman. What a profitable Fourth of July it had been.

  By the time Barker’s train reached Winnipeg, Happyland was closed for the night and the holiday profits from the Igorrote Village had been locked away. The following morning Barker went to meet with the US consul and the local chief of police. When the government agent described Truman’s mistreatment of the Igorrotes, both men offered him every assistance. The police chief provided three police officers to accompany Barker to Happyland.7

  Fox was standing beside the entrance to the village when Barker approached with Schneidewind and Julio, as if he’d been expecting them. He looked Barker in the eye and told him not to come a step closer. When Barker said he was there on behalf of the US government and with the full blessing of the local police, Fox seemed to notice the three officers at Barker’s side for the first time. In that moment Fox stepped aside, as if suddenly overwhelmed by “moral force and the fear of criminal proceedings.”8 Pushing past him, Barker demanded to know where Truman was. Fox claimed he had no idea. Julio rushed inside to tell the Igorrotes that the government was taking them to Chicago to join the others, before sending them home. The news brought tears of joy and relief.

  The US consul had provided an official letter to ease their passage over the border, stating that the Igorrotes were traveling to America at the behest of the US government. Barker had now succeeded in taking charge of thirty-three of the forty-nine tribespeople under Truman’s control. But he would not rest until he had rounded up the others. The bureau had learned that a third group had recently moved from New Haven, Connecticut, to Syracuse, New York. The government agent hoped all sixteen of the missing Igorrotes were there. If not, then goodness knew where the others were.

  Equally pressing was apprehending Truman. Barker had spoken at length with the Filipinos in Chicago and “Every day discloses further ill-treatment by Dr. Hunt . . . he never fed [the tribespeople] on a journey. They often went a day without food.”9 Truman, who had claimed to be a friend, even a father, to the Igorrotes, had treated them as if they were mongrels brought to him from the pound.

  24

  Luck Be a Lady

  SYRACUSE, JULY 1906

  Antoinette Funk as a young law student at Wesleyan University in Illinois

  SYRACUSE WAS A BOOMING manufacturing center at the turn of the twentieth century, producing everything from automobiles, bricks, beer, and brooms to saddles, steel, and soda ash. Towering industrial chimneys raked the sky. Day and night they belched out black smoke and putrid chemicals, which hung heavy on the air. Much of the industry was located near the banks of the Onondaga Lake, whose waters provided fish for New York’s finest restaurants.

  In 1906 the city’s hardworking residents celebrated the opening of a new amusement park. Named, as so many were, White City—after the buildings at the heart of the 1893 Chicago World’s Fair—the new park was built by the Syracuse, Lakeshore, and Northern Trolley Company. For a nickel you could board a trolley downtown for the rattling twelve-minute ride to Syracuse’s newest attraction.

  Despite its pretensions White City was a poor relative of its famous namesake. Created to drive up traffic on the lakeside trolley line, it consisted of a few buildings hastily thrown up in a Syracuse suburb. The opening weeks had been dogged by poor press reviews and low visitor numbers. The park managers were under pressure to find a thrilling new headline act. They made contact with every promoter in the Northeast, and finally struck gold. A former theater manager and associate of Truman’s named F. P. Sargent had fifteen Igorrotes available for bookings. The White City managers snapped them up and gave the Filipinos top billing, ahead of Weedon’s pack of performing big cats, “seven in number including a cute baby lion.”1

  Oblivious to the fact that the Igorrotes and Truman were now the subject of an international manhunt, the park managers contacted all the local newspapers to announce the tribe’s arrival. The Filipinos needed no introduction. Truman’s crimes against them might not have become national news yet, but for more than a year the exhibition of the Igorrotes had been reported in newspapers coast to coast.

  The group in Syracuse consisted of seven men and seven women along with Tainan. All were members of Truman’s original troupe and had previously been touring with Hopkins.

  Shortly after their arrival, Sargent rushed to find Tainan. He had some exciting news. Tainan was going to meet the mayor. The boy began jumping around in excitement. He would wear his finest G-string for the occasion. Maybe the women would let him borrow some precious beads.

  A large crowd of politicians, dignitaries, and reporters gathered in the mayor’s office for the Filipino’s visit. Tainan, who was used to large audiences, rose to the occasion. He gave a short speech in which he said it was an honor to meet the mayor and thanked the people of Syracuse for making his tribe so welcome. Then he launched into a selection of American songs including “My Country, ’Tis of Thee” and “I’ve Got a Feeling for You.”2 When he finished singing, the audience cheered and crowded round him. Emboldened by the warm reception, Tainan invited the mayor to call on the Igorrote Village. The mayor took the boy up on his offer, and gamely posed for photos with the Filipinos, though he politely declined the plate of boiled dog and rice the tribe’s leader proffered.

  Tainan was enjoying his celebrity. One afternoon he slipped out of the Igorrote Village unnoticed. Moments later, there was a great commotion beside the Shoot the Chutes attraction. As the boats whizzed down the steep tracks toward the lagoon, a small figure could be seen in the water, waving his arms furiously above his head, apparently in danger of drowning. Assuming the person had fallen in and couldn’t swim, a bystander rushed to get help. Sargent wandered over, but instead of throwing off his jacket and jumping in to save the boy, he simply laughed. That was Tainan and he wasn’t in danger, he was taking a bath, explained the Igorrotes’ manager.3 A crowd gathered to watch. Tainan waved to them. Then, satisfied that he had given them a good show, the boy climbed out of the water. Sargent slipped him a coin.

  While Barker was on his way back to Chicago with the second Igorrote group, McIntyre had been in touch with Dr. William Alexander Sutherland, the head of the Philippine pensionado program that placed talented Filipino children in US schools and colleges. Tainan himself had been selected for a place in the program. McIntyre asked Sutherland if he would take the train from New York City to inspect the Igorrote Village in Syracuse.

  Sutherland was happy to oblige and when he got to White City he was “favorably” impressed with Sargent, who “treats Igorrotes well . . . they are in perfect health and seem contented.”4 Sargent was a kindly boss who gave the tribe permission to keep their souvenir money along with their tips, and provided them with a plentiful supply of rice, vegetables, and chicken, along with tobacco, soap, and blankets. After Syracuse, he had confirmed bookings for them in Binghamton, Buffalo, and Detroit.5

  Under the terms of their agreement, each week Sargent remitted half of all net profits to Truman, who had insisted he would pay the tribe their wages out of his share. Predictably, he had not done so.

  At McIntyre’s request, Sutherland instructed Sargent to stop paying Truman his share of the takings immediately. The bureau would make arrangements to hold the money in trust for the tribespeople. The government would transport the Filipinos to Chicago the following week.6 When Sargent expressed concern that Truman would come looking for his money in a rage, Sutherland explained that the showman had gone into hiding, fearing that if he showed himself he would be arrested.

  Back in Chicago the government had instructed Barker to leave the Igorrotes at Sans Souci for the time being instead of moving them across town to Riverview. This was done on the understanding that Schneidewind was in charge of them and the manager of Sans Souci must make their village sanitary and provide suitable accommodations. Schneidewind came regularly to check on them, and he installed a village manager to look after the tribespeople. Woolf and Barker had beefed up security in the village with the
addition of a couple of security guards and a policeman. Barker had also hired two Pinkerton detectives to search for Truman.

  On the evening of Monday, July 9, 1906, Barker was leaving Woolf’s office in Sans Souci when Julio appeared and asked if he could speak privately to him. The story he told was disturbing: associates of Truman’s had started coming to the village with messages for the tribe, intended to persuade or intimidate the Filipinos into going back to Truman. Why are they not stopped by the security guards or the police officer? asked Barker. Because, replied Julio, looking around to make sure no one was listening, Callahan lets them in. Barker looked confused. What’s Callahan got to do with it? He’s Truman’s friend, replied Julio. He had assumed the agent knew this. Barker was stunned. Why had nobody mentioned Callahan before? Now it all made sense. He must be the source of the leaks.

  Barker went straight to the tribe’s village and dismissed Callahan on the spot. He must never show his face in the village again. Callahan grunted something and fled, leaving his few possessions behind.

  At ten o’clock that night, Barker left the park grounds. A shadowy figure stirred beside the gates. Once he saw Barker exit, Callahan went back inside. It didn’t take him long to find Julio. Furious, he confronted the translator and ordered him to come with him.

  Julio guessed where they were going. When they reached a bar near Sans Souci, Callahan told the interpreter to enter. Truman was already there. The showman told Julio he had something for him. He pulled some papers out of his jacket pocket. Turning to the last page, he smoothed out the creases and pushed it in front of Julio. Sign it, he said, handing the interpreter a pen. Julio picked the document up and began reading. Angered, Truman snatched it back. Putting the document down in front of Julio again, he told him to sign it. Callahan stood up and leaned over Julio, his face menacing. The barman looked over. Sign it, said Truman again. Julio shook his head. He wasn’t signing anything he hadn’t read.7