Part 47

As a by-play in connection with his various swindling operations, these speculations in real estate served to divert the colonel, as well as help fill his pockets. The building lots being well disposed of, the colonel could afford to let the original owner take back the two on which the famous block was to be built, and the purchasers of the other had only to wait till somebody or other should put up the desired block, and raise the value of their sites up to the imaginary height to which the colonel's elegant and magnificent pretences had elevated them; but then the poor fellows might have to wait years, for the colonel's block outshone, by far, all other possible blocks.

The colonel had a way of ingratiating himself with the teachers of female seminaries, finding out who of the pupils were the children of the wealthiest parents, getting acquainted with the young girls, taking a fatherly interest in them, getting introduced to their parents, and flattering them upon the genius and beauty of their children, and at last borrowing very considerable sums (just for temporary accommodation, till he could get remittance through his New York bankers, of course) from the delighted fathers of the beautiful girls; and it was impossible to not honor the colonel's request under such circumstances. But the colonel had a shocking bad memory, and always forgot these little accommodations, amounting to from three hundred dollars to a thousand dollars, according to how much he had thought best, in a given case, to ask for.

In the town of Elmira, N. Y., I think it was, the colonel managed to borrow some thirty thousand dollars, all in the space of four months; and when one of the victims came to speak of the swindle to one of his most intimate neighbors, and a cousin at that, I believe, he was astonished to learn that this person could practically "sympathize" with him. The colonel had professed to each that he had higher respect for him than anybody else in the village, and had, therefore, in his extremity, sought him to confide in; for of all things in the world, he thought it the greatest shame for a man of means to borrow money, he said, but his properties in Cuba were of such a nature that his agents there could not always turn them into money instantly on command.

So each of twenty or more persons, perhaps, became the special and only confidant of the colonel; the only man whom he would not be ashamed to inform about his present "little unpleasant strait." It must have been rather an amusing disclosure for the other nineteen when the twentieth victim came to expose his special honors, joys and "profits" to them. Nevertheless, so engaging a man was the colonel that the most excited and threatening of his victims usually cooled down presently, if he had the boldness to give the colonel "a piece of his mind." This illustrates but partially the consummate skill and address of the colonel; and the number of his victims in many parts of the land was astonishing. The colonel bought ships even, or interests in them, and disposed of the same, and was always far away from the scene of his last fraud very speedily. There was no limit to his audacity.

Having gathered together a pretty large fortune here, the colonel left the United States, and went to Canada to reside, not as Colonel Novena to be sure, but as "Sir Richard Murray." He might have taken more money with him there than he did; but the colonel was almost as free in the use of his money as he was adroit in getting it. In fact, he was a philanthropist in his disposition, and aided a great many poor people, particularly children, many of whom he sent to school, leaving funds with some worthy persons as trustees, to continue them at school. There was no element of meanness, in the usual acceptation of the term, in the colonel, for all his misdeeds partook properly of the nature of crimes, to greater or less extent. At the South the colonel, I am told, fought several duels,--never on his own direct account, but for sundry "friends," ladies especially,--and at New Orleans, his financial "speculations" amounted to "something handsome." I have been promised by a friend a narrative of the colonel's exploits in New Orleans to be incorporated in this article, but it has not been forwarded to me, and I must now do without it.

I remarked above that the colonel went to reside in Canada as "Sir Richard Murray." His residence was in Montreal, but he had a country-house about seven miles out of the city, where, in fact, he spent the larger part of his time, in both winter and summer, and where, for two or three years he dispensed an elegant hospitality. His splendid manners forbade any inquiry into his right to wear a title, and his knowledge of the English language was so perfect, that no one would suspect from his accent his Castilian descent.

I have not been able to learn that the colonel ever "exploited" in Canada. The States were his theatre; and during a residence of a couple of years in Europe, he practised his skilful "profession" considerably, I am authentically informed, especially in England and Ireland.

But the colonel came to grief at last. He had gotten a little "short," and having left Canada for want of means to longer sustain his princely mode of living, betook himself to St. Louis. I have forgotten to say that the colonel was an expert, and usually very successful, gambler, but he had no real love for the life of a gambler. There was hazard enough in it, but it was of the tame kind. He longed to do bolder things, and he did them. But the colonel had no reputation at St. Louis, and was obliged to turn to gambling, and for a few days he was successful, winning quite large sums of money, which aroused the resident gamblers to conspiracy against the handsome stranger, in that place known as Count Antonelli, an Italian. The result was, that the gamblers robbed him of nearly all he had won, and the colonel beat a retreat from St. Louis, and made his way, by degrees, eastward. Although he encountered several "old friends" on the way, whom he had, in the years past, swindled out of various sums, they let him pass unheeded, or at most only warning their friends against him.

But the colonel's star had in good measure become dimmed, he found, and he made his way to Washington, D. C., where he revived some old acquaintanceships, and created new ones, which served him quite well for a time. But the colonel, finally playing a pretty severe swindle upon a person in high authority, and who prided himself too much on his sagacity and general good sense to be willing that his folly in this case be made public, the victim let him off, on his agreeing to leave Washington, and 'never show his head there again.' As the colonel could thus escape a long term of imprisonment, he gladly accepted the condition, and made the promise, which he strictly fulfilled, for he never returned to that city.

The colonel made his way from Washington to Saratoga, in the summer of 1862, where he made the acquaintance of sundry New Yorkers, of a class a little below the most distinguished, the colonel stepping down a little from his usual dignity and carefulness as to the selection of his society. With this class he "profited" considerably, and it is said that in the winter of '62 and '63 he managed to do a good business in various "speculative" ways in New York, through introductions which he obtained from his new-made friends of '62. However, it is to be remarked here, that at Saratoga he had a new alias, that of General Alverosa, of Palermo, an intimate friend of Garibaldi, but who had been educated in England, which accounted for his excellent understanding of the English language.

In tracing the colonel, by facts of his own confession, for which facts I was indebted, in some measure, to the late Dr. Jeremiah Cummings, of St. Stephen's Church, and through things stated by others, I find spaces of months, which I have to skip over. How the colonel got on to his last year of 1864, I hardly know; but in the summer of that year the colonel, it seems, became hard pushed. He had wearied out such few of his friends as he had not swindled, and was living from hand to mouth, dressing well yet, and making some show of means, but unsuccessful at the gambling-table, and elsewhere.

Finally, there was one day found missing from a house in West 19th Street, where the colonel (rather, general at this time) boarded, a diamond necklace, belonging to a distant relative of Alexander Hamilton, of revolutionary fame. The necklace was very valuable intrinsically, but a part of it was composed of diamonds, which had been presented to Mrs. Hamilton by some admirers of General Hamilton, English residents of some one of the West India Islands, I forget which, on which General Hamilton was born. These had been presented to her out of respect to the general's great statesmanship, etc., he from republican scruples having refused to accept them while occupying an official position under the government.

It was at this time that my special attention was called to Colonel Novena. I had known of him through the press, as I hear of other great men, some of whom one chances to meet, perhaps, but the majority of whom he knows "at a distance." There was great search made in the house for the diamond necklace; and upon no one in the place had a ray of suspicion fallen. It was such a mystery, in short, as to where that necklace had gone, under the circumstances of its loss, that no one there conceived it possible that it would ever be found; and after the search in which everybody in the house took part (and everybody was glad to have his own rooms searched), it was thought preposterous to do ought else than to sit down quietly, and "give it up" forever.

But the mere fact that to a portion of the diamonds was attached a sort of historic fame, heightened, too, by the considerations of family affection and pride, induced the owners--(for the necklace was the joint property of a lady, and a gentleman who had succeeded to his deceased mother's interest therein)--to make some little effort to hunt out the necklace. They had thought that nobody who might have taken it would offer it for sale to the important jewellers of the city, and it was too valuable to be purchased by the smaller establishments. So they had conceived that the diamonds would be taken from their mountings, and sold separately, so as not to be identified. This thought had seized the owners at the time the loss was discovered, and had become, not a mere opinion with them, but a sort of conviction. So it was that they at once gave up in despair when the search at the house failed of the hoped-for result.

I was visited by the gentleman partner in the necklace, who placed the matter before me with all the facts he was possessed of, and I told him that I felt very certain that some resident of the house had taken the lost treasures; but it would be best for me to call upon him there, and study the situation of the rooms, etc. An hour of the next day was fixed upon, and I called; had opportunity to examine the various rooms, and their relative situations. I found that no ordinary thief, however skilled, would be apt to run the hazard of penetrating the rooms from which the necklace was taken; and, besides that, it must have been somebody conversant with the place in which the necklace was deposited, or somebody who had been carefully instructed by some knowing one, to be able to steal the necklace at the time it was taken; for it was missed not a half hour after it had been taken from its case and redeposited there by the lady half-owner. I made careful inquiry about each of the boarders, and could fix my suspicions upon no one in particular; yet I came to the conclusion that it must be one of two of whom I was told, Colonel Novena being one, or, rather, General Alverosa, his alias then.

The owners of the necklace would hear nothing against the general; he was the last person in the world to be suspected. Indeed, they were so much affronted, and expressed themselves so emphatically, bordering on bad manners, at my suggesting the general as the possible thief, that I was obliged to say, very firmly, that unless they allowed me to take my own way about the matter, I would not go a step further. They allowed me to take my own course; but it was with ill grace they did so, after all; for the general had made himself a favorite of this couple, especially. He spent much of his time in their rooms when at home. Indeed, it was this fact, in a measure, which gave me a suspicion of him. Besides, they represented him as so perfect a character, that I confess I had fears of him from that fact too; for I have found the most wily rogues among men (and particularly among women) to be those who enjoyed the finest reputations. These make a good reputation a part of their "stock in trade." But this was not all that influenced me in my suspicions of the general. These parties, who had known him for quite a long period of time, knew nothing of his business pursuits, or if the general had any business at all; and only judged, at one time, that he might be a lawyer, from something he happened to say; at another, that he might be a broker in Wall Street, and so on.

But this was no occasion of suspicion to them, for they would have scorned to seem to wish to know anything of a gentleman's private life or business. But to me there was ground of suspicion in all this; and I concluded to take board at the house, and study the general, work myself into his good graces, and learn his places of resort, etc. The owners of the necklace were finally convinced that this was the true way, and were ready to pay my expenses for a given time. I provided myself with neater wearing apparel than I usually wore, and took board at the house as "Mr. Henry Inman, artist."

Fortunately, one of my old school-fellows was both an excellent portrait and landscape painter, and had his office on Broadway. I told him what I was up to; and a sign, new, but made to look a little old, and bearing my assumed name, was placed on his door; and a few of his sketches, some finished, others in process of completion, were assigned to me to talk about as my own, if I had occasion to introduce a special friend there. So that when "Mr. Henry Inman, artist," secured board at the house in West 19th Street, he also had a studio to boast of.

I had selected this disguise of artist, because, in earlier days I had possessed a little talent at drawing, and could paint indifferently well, and had, to considerable extent, cultivated a knowledge of the great masters, and could talk, as I was pleased to believe, decently well upon artistic subjects; and I had learned that General Alverosa assumed to be a great connoisseur of art.

Being established at my boarding-house, I easily made the general's acquaintance, and in less than a week had entertained him at my studio; gotten so well "into his good graces," that he had no hesitancy in taking me to sundry of his places of resort, gambling rooms, etc., though he did not gamble much; and had found out that the general loved the fair sex, if not wisely, yet too well, and at last begun to get a clew to his career. But how I was to learn more of him directly through himself, was a puzzle; and so I set about watching the general's course nights, after leaving me. I found that he frequented a house of a peculiar nature in 29th Street; that the colonel went there every night, but that he usually got home some time towards midnight, staying away all night only seldom.

Putting together all I knew of the general, I came to the conclusion that he was indebted to some fair lady for a part, at least, of his support; and so I managed to get myself introduced to the house in question (for it was one of those select places of pleasure which boast of their exclusiveness and "high respectability"); and on my first visit there encountered the general, who, finding me "surprised" at being caught there by him, and on my begging him not to expose me at our boarding-house, relaxed what little restraint existed on his part towards me, and took me into his confidence. The keeper of the house, an elegant, courtly-looking woman, was his especial friend--his wife, practically speaking; and I now could better understand what motive might have impelled the general, if he were indeed the thief, to steal the necklace.

I need not, indeed I should not, at any rate, go into details in regard to how I found that Madame Alverosa was in possession of that necklace; but so I found, and I had but little trouble in recovering it from her. The general had told her that it had belonged, for nearly a hundred years, in his family; and although it was a brilliant affair, and she was specially fond of displaying her jewelry, yet she rarely wore this, regarding it as something sacred; and it was only by a little strategy which could not be excused in anybody but a detective, that I found out she had the necklace; and it was not till it was safely in my possession, beyond the possibility of her immediately reclaiming it, that I let her know I had it. When she came to know the facts, she affected great indignation at, and disgust for the general; but the woman loved him, and she implored me to let him have a chance to leave the boarding-house in West 19th Street before I should restore the necklace to the owners; and she said she would teach the general a lesson of honesty; that he had no need of resorting to crime; and that he had only been tempted to steal the necklace out of his love for her; he wanted to see her wear and enjoy it. Such was her generous, and probably correct interpretation of the matter. She offered, too, to pay all the expenses the owners had been to in ferreting out the necklace, my board, fees, etc., which she insisted on paying just doubly for, and which she did pay.

In view of what I had learned of this woman's charities, and her general disposition, I consented to her request. She maintained no less than five orphan children at different schools, paying all their expenses; frequently gave excellent marriage outfits to such of her girls as, desiring to reform, had chances to marry (a not unfrequent thing in New York); and would not encourage any girl to stay in her house; indeed, constantly besought them all to reform, and seek some other mode of livelihood; and not seldom did she succeed. But there are some of those "unfortunates" to whom any other mode of life would be tame and intolerable. These the Madame disciplined into decency of deportment, and even attended to their education in books and music, etc., in order to render them as competent as possible to take care of themselves when the days of their physical attractiveness should have passed. She taught them economy, too, making each keep account with some savings bank.

In view of Madame's good qualities, I was disposed to respect her love for the general, and consented, as I have said, to let him withdraw from the boarding-house in 19th Street before I disclosed to the owners that I had the necklace in my possession. When I returned the necklace, and reported who had taken it, and gave the recital of my interview with the general at last, when I advised him to withdraw from the house, the reader may essay to, but he can hardly imagine the astonishment which was expressed by the owners of the necklace and the household when they came to learn the facts.

The general, of course, "took things easy" when he found that I had trapped him, so far as I was concerned; but he was greatly mortified in spirit to think that Madame A. had learned of the theft, especially in view of his romantic story to her about the long possession of the necklace in his family. He at first declared he would never go back to her, and avowed to me that this was the only crime he had ever committed; but when I told him that I could not consent to his leaving me with the impression that he had deceived me, and opened his eyes to many things which had been disclosed to me of his career by my fellow-detectives, with some of whom during the time of my special study of him I was in concert, the general (whom at the time, by the way of the better assuring him of my accurate knowledge of his character I addressed as "Colonel Novena"), became very passive, and declared to me that if I would not further expose him, he would leave New York altogether, as soon as he could go.

Eventually he did leave; but not before he was fully reconciled to Madame A., who, as she told me, read him a moral homily which would last him for his life. And went to Canada, where she followed him, on a pleasure excursion. In about two weeks after their meeting in Canada, a trip was planned with some friends through the Thousand Isles, and down the rapids of the St. Lawrence. Madame A. was taken suddenly ill, but not seriously, and staid over at a farmer's house, insisting on the "general's" going with the rest; and overcoming his gallant desire to linger with her, by representing to him that he would spoil the pleasure of all the rest by tarrying behind. So the Colonel Novena and the "General Alverosa," with all his other characters wrapped up in one individuality, went on with the party,--which was the last time Madame A. ever saw him alive.

Proceeding down the rapids in different boats, the party had gotten nearly through all safely, when some mishap occurred to the boat which bore "Colonel Novena," and it was dashed to pieces in the rocks, he receiving so severe a shock that, although an excellent swimmer, it was said, yet he was powerless to save himself, and was drowned. His body was recovered the next day; and Madame Alverosa spared no pains in honoring his memory. The body was taken to New York, and thence to Greenwood Cemetery, where it now reposes beneath a stately monument, which, however, bears neither the name of "General Alverosa," nor that of "Colonel Novena," but a name equally euphonic, and certainly nearer the "General's" true one, if I am rightly informed; but Madame Alverosa is entitled to my silence on this point, for she asked it, and received my promise in response.

And here, in justice to the character of woman,--to the sex whom we love to honor,--and in praise of an individual of that sex, who by untoward circumstances, was led into a course of life so base as that which Madame A. long pursued, let it be recorded that a short time after the "General's" death Madame A. abandoned her vile profession, sold out the house she occupied and owned, with the condition in the deed that it should never again be occupied or let for a like purpose; established a fund, in the hands of proper trustees, for the aid of a certain class of unfortunates, and withdrew to another part of the city, where she leads the life of a respectable woman during the winter. Her summers are spent at her elegant country seat, near one of the most beautiful villages in Now Jersey. And the Madame has declared to me that of all her varied experiences in life, that which gave her the most pain was the discovery that the general had stolen the necklace. She had supposed that he gambled, and she was far from being unsuspicious that he might commit forgeries sometimes, or had done so in his career before she made his acquaintance; but all this she looked upon as in the nature, somewhat, of business.

"Wall Street gambles," she used to say;--"Wall Street commits its forgeries, and practises false pretences all the while, and men call these things there respectable. Why may not others gamble on a smaller scale, and practise their smaller cunning?"