Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, November 21, 1896, Page 6

BY A.E.BUNKER. The recent bank robbery by two masked robbers at Sherburn, Minn., recalls the raid in the First national bank of Northfield, in the same state by Frank James, Cole, Jim and Bob Younger, Bill Stiles (or Chadwell), Clel Miller and Charles Pitts, twenty years ago, Sept. 7, 1875. The writer has a vivid recollection of the last named event. The First National was the only bank in the city, and the raiders concluded the bank would carry considerable cash in its safe, as a great deal of wheat was then being marketed at Northfield, and funds came through the bank to pay for it. Northfield, being a college town, has many inhabitants who are there for the purpose of educating their children. They are well to do, intelligent people, who spend more time in beautifying their homes and decorating their grounds than they do in decorating their noses, as is common in communi- ties where the “bum” element pre- vails. The robbers reasoned that such & quiet, inoffensive class of citizens would offer little or no resistance to their attack. The result shows how poorly they reasoned. For a day or two previous to the attack, the robbers re- connoitered the town, inspected the bank, and planned their route of escape. They represented themselves as cattlemen, and would pass as such anywhere. Theonly thing that at- tracted special attention, was their horses and fine saddles. J. S. Allen, a hardware merchant, (for some reason for which he cannot account) suspected the horsemen were there for no good purpose and communicated his sus- picions to Mr. Trussell, asking him if he did not think it would be well to tell “the boys at the bank” to be on the lookout. Trussell laughed at the idea. At the time of the attack the cashier of the bank, Mr. G. M. Phillips, was ab- sent, having just reached Philadelphia that day, whither he had gone to attend the Centennial exhibition. His place was fille¢ Quring his absence by Mr. J. L. Heywood, the regular bookkeeper. I was teller of the bank at the time, and had temporary charge of a portion of Mr. Heywood’s work. The other em- ployee was Mr. F. J. Wilcox, who was engaged temporarily, and had charge of -eollections, and assisted on the books. At the time of the attack, 2:30 p. m., Mr. Heywood was seated at the cashier’s desk, attending to some cor- respondence; Mr.Wilcox and I were en- gaged in “writing up” the books. At the time mentioned, four horse- mmen rode across the bridge from the west, along “Mill Square’—which is north of Scriver’s block—turned south on Division street, halted and dis- mounted along the east side of the building, throwing the bridle reins over some hitching posts, and entered the bank. These were Frank James, Bob Younger, Charley Pitts and Clel. Mil- ler. They were followed across the bridge in a few moments by two more of the gang, who commenced shooting as they entered Mill Square, but did not leave their horses. Two others rode down Division street from the south, meeting their pals nearly in front of the bank. As the four entered the bank, Miller turned and closed the door, stepping outside, with the intention, it is claimed, of guarding the door, and warning his partners inside in case their plans were likely to be inter- fered with by citizens. The first warn- ing we had of approaching danger was ‘when the robbers entered and I, hear- fing the noise outside the counter, and supposing some customer had entered, turned from my work to wait on DIAGRAM OF BANK him, facing the open space. over the counter before referred to, which was called the teller’s window. Instead of meeting the expected cus- tomer, three revolvers were pointed at my face, and three “tough customers” were climbing over the counter. As I remember looking those revolvers in the face the hole in each seemed about as large at a hat. I was commanded, “Throw up your hands.” Under the cir- cumstances this seemed the most ap- propriate thing to do, and I “threw them up.” In relating this some years ago, when a darkey was present, he said: “I tell you, boss, I'd a frowed up all de han’s I had, and wished I had mo’.” As Mr. Heywood occupied the cash- fer’s desk, and as he was older than Mr. Wilcox or myself, the robbers nat- urally supposed him to be the cashier, James and Pitts turned toward him, and James said: “You're the cashier; open that safe d——d quick, or I'll blow your head off.” Pitts ran to the vault and stepped inside, but imme- diately returned. Just at this time ‘las he did so: Heywood has arisen from his seat, and stepping to the vault, caught hold of the outer door, and attempted to close the same, with the intention, no doubt, of keeping the robbers out. James and Pitts both grabbed Heywood, and pointing their revolvers in his face, said: “Open that safe, now; or you haven’t a minute to live.” Of course, accompanying their threats with oaths. Heywood replied: “There is a time lock on, and the safe can’t be opened now.” “That’s a lie,” retorted James and Pitts, and repeatedly demanded that he open the safe, coupling each de- mand with a threat, and commenced hustling H. about the room. Seeming to realize the desperate men he was dealing with, Heywood called “Mur- der! Murder! Murder!” whereupon James struck him a terrible blow on the head with his revolver, felling him to the floor. Some think this would have killed Heywood had no other in- jury been inflicted. He fell perfectly limp, and could not have been fully conscious after receiving the shock, as no word escaped his lips. Pitts then drew a knife from his pocket, and, opening it, said: “Let’s cut his d——d throat,” and drew the edge of the knife across poor Heywood’s neck, inflicting a slight wound while he was lying helpless on the floor. The two dragged Heywood from where he lay, just at the rear of his desk, to the vault, and partially inside, repeatedly commanding him to open the safe. While working with Heywood they occasionally turned to Wilcox and me, pointing their revolvers at us, and de- manded that we “unlock that safe.” . At each demand we simply replied that * we could not unlock it. The safe not being locked at the time, our answer was true. The door of the safe was closed, and the bolts thrown in place, but the dial not turned off the combi- nation. While Heywood was in the reclining position, probably to further intimidate him, Pitts placed his re- volver close to H.’s head, and fired. The bullet went into the vault and through a tin box containing some jewelry and valuable papers, left by some customer for safe keeping. This was the first shot fired in the bank. During the time James and Pitts were occupied with Heywood, and tor- turing him, Bob Younger was paying particular attention to Wilcox and me. When I first threw up my hands, being in somewhat of a hurry on account of the importunity of my guests, I did not wait to lay down the pen I had been writing with, but held it with the point projecting toward the in- truder. It occurred to me, however, that it was not as “mighty” as the revolver just at that time, and I at- tempted to lay it down. The act near- ly cost me my life. Bob Younger, wit- nessing the motion, and perhaps think- ing I was reaching for a weapon, sprang at me, and poking his revolver into my face, said: “Here, put up your hands, and keep ’em up, or I'll kill you.” He then commanded Wil- cox and me to “get down on your knees, below the counter.” I suppose this was so no one outside could see what was going on within, or possibly so we could not signal to anyone passing by. At any rate, we obeyed. All the rob- bers were very much excited, and after swinging his revolver from Wilcox to me, Bob would turn and fumble among some papers on the table, or open some drawer in the desks on the counters, doubtless in search of something val- uable to carry away. While on my knees, I happened to think of a revol- ver kept on a shelf just beneath the counter by the teller’s window, and edged along toward the place with the intention of getting possession of it and making some defense, I turned to see if I was near enough to reach the weapon, while Bob’s back was turned toward me, but Pitts happened to be looking my way at the time, and rushing across the intervening space, secured the revolver himself, and cooly stuffed it into his pocket, remarking “You needn’t try to get hold of that; you couldn’t do anything with that little derringer anyway.” The revolver was a Smith & Wesson, 32 calibre, and we considered it a good one, but of course it was not very for- midable beside their “number 45 na- vies.” The revolver was found on Pitts at the time of his capture and death, and appropriated by some ore as a sou- venir. It was'well for me that I did not reach the weapon, as my assail- ants would have shot me before I could have used it. I arose to my feet after this incident feeling that I ought to be making some effort at defense, or at least try to get outside to give the alarm. Turn- ing to me, Bob Younger said: “Where's the money outside the safe? Where’s the cashier's till?” Pointing to a box with partitions in it, on top of the counter, in which we kept nickels, pennies, and perhaps a little silver, as hard money had just begun to cir- culate about that time; the box not containing more than $100, at any time, I said: “There’s the money out- side.” Below where this box stood. ‘was a drawer underneath the counter, containing about $3,000 in bills, to which I did not call his attention, and which he did not find. Again telling me, “Get down on your knees, and keep your hands up,” Bob turned, and taking a grain sack from underneath a linen duster he wore (by the way, I believe all the gang wore these linen dusters, that they might better con- ceal their weapons and cartridge belts), Proceeded to transfer to the bag the contents of the cash box. After putting in a handful or two it seemed to oc- cur to him that the “claim he was working, panned out but little,” and he turned to me again, finding me on my feet. With a wicked look and horri- ble oath, he said: “There’s more mon- ey than that out here. Where's that cashier’s till? What in h—l are you standing up for? I told you to keep down.” He then caught hold of me and forced me to the floor—I offering no resistance. While hold of my coat, feeling a large pocket or bill-book I carried in the inside pocket, he said: “What have you got here?” and pull- ing it out far enough to see what it Was, pushed it back in place again. He may have thought I had some Weapon there. Then pressing his re- volver against my temple, and crowd- ing my head to the floor, he said: “Show me where that money is, you — — — orI’'ll kill you.” At that moment I fully expected my time had come. I cannot tell the sensation I experienced, but I know many thoughts flashed through my mind. I thought of my wife, my mother and my Maker, and felt reconciled to die. I made no further answer to his threats or de- mands, and in a moment he released me, and renewed his search for the money he knew must be outside the safe. I again arose to my feet with the determination to get away if possible, as resistance was more than useless. I had witnessed the knocking down of Heywood, the cutting of his throat, and immediately after the shot had been fired close to his head, saw the blood trickling down his face and neck, collar bone, within half an inch of the subclavian artery, traversing about six inches. The sensation of being shot was as though some one had struck me a sharp blow with a piece of board. There was a jar and a sting as I felt the bullet going through the bones of my shoulder. It is said one nearly always falls when shot, no mat- ter where the bullet hits him. I stumbled, but kept on my feet. Not knowing how badly I might be wound- ed, instead of entering Manning’s I kept on west, through an open lot to Water street and went south one block to Dr. Coon’s residence, where I con- cluded I would receive proper atten- tion. When Pitts returned from his chase after me, he did not go behind the counters again. About this time some- one of the gang outside rode up to the door, and shouted: “The game is up! Better get out boys; they’re killing all our men.” Bob Younger sprang back through the open counter where he had entered. When James and Pitts re- leased Heywood, the latter got on his feet and was supporting himself by leaning on a table in the middle of the room, when James climbed upon the desk between the cashier’s desk and teller’s window, and turning, reached back as near Heywood as possible, and deliberately shot down into his head, killing him. There was no provoca- tion whatever for the act, as he was offering no resistance, and could not have defended himself, after the cruel treatment he had already received at the hands of the assassins. Foiled in their undertaking, and with a fiend- ish passion raging in his heart, James murdered poor Heywood in cold blood. After committing this deed, James leaped over the high railing to the floor, and joined his companions. Wil- cox was threatened many times, but on account of his location, or because he kept quiet, was not injured. While the tragedy was being enacted in the bank a fierce battle waged on the street, a result of which showed the law-abiding citizens had nerve and grit. lei ‘ Cullis THE BANK ROBBERS. and from my point of view, supposed the bullet had entered his head and Killed him, as he was prostrate. While Bob Younger was examining the contents of a drawer, with his face turned from me, though his revolver, in his outstretched hand, was pointing directly at me, I thought my opportuni- ty for escape had come. West of the bank building, across an alley, and fronting on Mill Square, was Manning's hardware store, the rear door of which was at right angles to the rear door of the bank. I reasoned quickly that I could get into Manning’s store from the rear, and give the alarm, not know- ing of course what was transpiring on the streets. Wilcox was on his knees in the passage between me and the door. I motioned to him with my hand to move a little forward that I might pass, and I dashed past him and through the rear door, which seemed to be the best “opening for a young man” I had ever seen. I sprung the blinds by throwing my weight against them, turned to the left when outside, descending some steps to the alley, turned again at the bottom of the steps, and was opposite the rear door of Manning’s store, when I was halted by a bullet. As I started to leave the bank, Pitts, whose eyes seemed to be everywhere, saw me, and with a whoop rushed after me. He was in front of the vault, operating with Heywood, and before he could know my intention, I was out of range along the side of the vault, and making good time. As he turned the corner of the vault, and came in sight of me, he shot, The bullet whizzed past my ear, and through the blinds ahead of me, cut- ting half the size of the ball from each blind. Then standing on the steps he shot the second time, when I was about twenty feet away, hitting me in the right shoulder, barely missing the joint. The ball passed through the shoulder blade and came out just below the ‘When the robbers crossed the bridge to make the attack, Mr. Allen, before referred to, happened to be standing in the front door of his store, next west of Manning’s, and facing Mill Square. Again he was impressed with the thought that the men had evil de- signs on the bank; going up the walk, he turned the corner on Division strect as the men were dismounting. He fol- lowed and entered the vestibule of the bank as Miller closed the door and stepped outside, where they met face to face. Miller drew his revolver and, aiming at Allen, said: “You git! Don’t you holler.” Allen stood not on the order of his going, but “got,” and as he neared the corner of the building returning “hollered” loud enough to be heard up and down the street a block either way: “Get your guns, boys, they’re robbing the bank.” As he called, Miller shot, which was al- most simultaneous with the appearance of the other four robbers, who put their horses to a run and commenced shoot- ing and yelling like savages. Dr. Wheeler, in a drug store across the street, heard Allen’s call and respond- ed nobly. He remembered having seen a rifle the day hefore in the Dampier hotel, on the corner below and across the street from the bank building, and immediately went by the alley at the rear of the buildings on that side of the street to “get the gun.” As Allen passed Manning’s store on his way to his own, he told the latter what was up, and Manning lost no time in get- ting a few cartridges and a Remington rifle, with which he did good service. Re-entering his own store, Allen gave the alarm to his clerks, and one of them, Mr. Joseph Hyde, picked up a loaded shotgun and rushed up to the corner about the time Clel. Miller had remounted his horse. He was directly in front of the bank, and as he turned toward Hyde the latter let him have the full charge of bird shot in the face, knocking him off his horse but not in- juring him seriously. Hyde then re- tired; Miller again got on his horse; but by this time Dr. Wheeler had se- cured the rifle, and from an open win- dow in the second story of the hotel “drew a bead” on Miller and shot him dead, severing the subclavian artery, the ball entering precisely the same part of his body that Pitts’ bullet came out of mine. The robbers were riding up and down Division street shooting and iell- ing everybody to keep off the street. An innocent Swede came onto Division street from the next street south of the bank and, not understanding the com- mand to “get off the street,” was shot through the head (by Cole Younger, it is said), from the effects of which he died a few days afterwards. As Manning came to the corner, which was the battle’s center, he saw a horesman (Bill Styles) dashing down the street from the south nearly a block away. He took quick but accurate aim, and pulled the trigger. The messenger from Manning’s rifle entered Style’s hear} and he fell from his horse a corpse. At this time the warning was given the robbers in the bank by those out- side. On leaving the bank James and Pitts regained their horses and took part in the battle up and down the street. There was no horse at hand for Bob Younger, hence he ran along the side of the building and under the stairs leading to the second story. Manning held a position directly in front of the stairs, where he stood without any protection, calmly loading and fring from the time he took part in thy engagement till the finish. He and Bob played a desperate game of “hide and seek” from their respective positions. Bob would reach his arm around from beneath the stairs to get a shot at Manning, not daring to ex- pose his body, when M. would fall back a step or two. Then Manning would poke his gun around the edge of the stairs and Bob would dodge back to his shelter. The latter would occasionally shoot through the stairs, hoping to hit Manning, but no damage was done in this manner except to the stairs. While they were engaged in this pastime Dr. Wheeler was not idle. Looking from the hotel] window Younger was nearly concealed beneath the stairs, but, watching his opportunity, as Bob ex- tended his arm, Wheeler shot, the bul- let taking effect in Younger’s &bow and smashing his arm all to pieces. One of the gang came down the street hanging to the side of his horse—In- dian fashion—that he might get a shot at Manning without exposing himself. Manning was on his guard and coolly awaited the approach of his foe. As the man did not exhibit himself Manning shot and killed the horse, when the rider hastily secured and mounted the horse of one of his fellow companions. At least one other robber was wound- ed by Manning, and a second horse killed, I believe. Manning was a quiet, unassuming citizen, and the last man a stranger would select to act the part he did that day. He certainly dis- played true courage and was “the man for the emergency.” Standing on the open corner he repeatedly loaded and fired, with telling effect, while the bul- lets from the attacking party fell round him thick and fast. It is said there must have been as many as thirty shots fired at Manning, none of which took effect. Many bullet scars were found in the stairs and about the cor- ner where Manning so fearlessly stood. While it is claimed by admirers of highwaymen that they are “dead shots” and brave, this incident shows that ordinary people are just as good marks- men, and as brave, when the advan- tages are equal. Unless the highway- man can take his victim at a disadvan- tage he does not make an attack. During the fracas a merchant or clerk would occasionally appear at a door and shoot at some of the gang, which attentions were promptly reciprocated, as the broken windows bore evidence. Ex-Policeman Hobbs, being on the street, but not on duty, and conse- quently not armed, grasped the sit- uation and shouted: “Give ’em stones, boys!” and displayed his well-known courage by actually throwing stones at the desperadoes, injuring one of them quite seriously on the knee. Shortly after Bob Younger was wounded, his brother Cole rode to the sidewalk near the stairs and told Bob to mount behind him. Springing to the edge of the walk Bob was assisted to mount by Cole and the two went out of town on the same horse. The rob- bers departed by the south road to Dundas. They had intended to retire via the bridge and enter the woods west of the city, but afterwards stated “Tt was too hot at that end of town.” Citizens immediately pursued the fee- ing villains. ° Dr. Goodhue was the first physician present after I reached Dr. Coon’s resi- dence, and commenced to dress my wound. I think he started for his of- fice—a block away—for some instru- ments or bandages, when, meeting some of his acquaintances starting af- ter the robbers, the excitement was too much for him, and he joined in the chase, leaving me to others. Soon Dr. Hutchinson, my regular physician, as- sisted by Dr. Armington, cared for me, and Dr. H. took me to my home in his carriage. I insisted on his driving along the street and by the dead ban- dits, that I might see them. I wit- nessed women calmly surveying the carcasses of the robbers, expressing contempt rather than pity; while one said: “See those poor horses,” pointing to the dead animals. The pursuit and capture of all but two of the gang is another interesting chapter in the history of the crime. Two minutes is the longest time that Queen Victoria can stand on her feet. DEADLY MORPHINE, —_— PEARL EYTINGE CALLS IT THE DEVIL'S RIGHT HAND. The Celebrated Actress to Take to t Lecture Platform as a “Horrible ample”—Was a Slave,to Its Use for Six Years. (Special Letter.) EARL Eytinge has renounced the stage for the lecture plat- form. All this win- ter she is, going to crusade against the curse of morphine. And it is a subject, alas, on which Miss Eytinge can speak as one having au- thority. This once beautiful and talented fa- vorite of the stage nearly destroyed herself—body and mind and soul—by the use of the fiendish drug. But reclaimed she is—now—abso- lutely, and so she is going to devote herself with all the strength of her nature to save other unfortunates be- fore it is too late, “The Devil’s Right Hand” is the title she has chosen for her lecture, and its subheads will be “Morphia, Chloral, Cocaine, Opium and Alcohol.” “I think people will listen to me, knowing as they do that I am fully acquainted whereof I speak,” she said, in outlining her plans. “I can tell them from a hard, harsh experience how ter- rible and disastrous are the results of drugging one’s self, and I think I can very forcibly point out wherein the temptations lie, and how best to avoid them. Pehaps that seems a common- place enough prospectus. But I am sure I can accomplish much,” she add- ed, with a kind of sad irony, “as a ‘horrible example.’ ” “All my winter nights are filled,” she went on. “I shall probably speak first in Whitesboro, where is the Baker- Rose Sanitarium. From there I shall travel all over the state, hammering as I best and most effectively can against morphine poisoning. And then, some Sunday night, at a big New York thea- ter, I am going to have a talk with the members of my old profession on the same subject—which is especiaily applicable to people of the artistic tem- perament. Yes, it will be quite a change from the stage to the platform. In some ways a very pleasant one to me. It will be hard work again, as before, of course, but there’s one thing,” she explained, with something of her old-time gayety. “I shall hold the center of the stage without inter- ference. “My old friends, whem I will talk to that Sunday night, hardly believe even now that I took eighteen grains of morphine every twenty-four hours for six whole years!” Miss Eytinge then went on to out- line the scheme of reformation she has undertaken: “I do believe I’ve got something to tell the public. I shall appeal to com- mon -sense and prove how much better and happier we can be without false aids, how much wiser it is to struggle less and smile more. There isn’t half enough laughing in the world anyway, and laughter is a tonic, and awakens the appetite for happiness. I shall tell as scientifically as I can how vice and disease and deformity of mind and body are reproduced for genera- tion after generation as a result, say, of one wrong marriage, for I am a pos- itive believer in heredity, and that sin breeds and transmits sin, yes, even to the third and fourth generation. The mother is thinking, planning first, last and all the time for the expected little one, so that her physical and mental condition must of necessity affect the new life. And the influence of the father upon the unborn child may be as great. I believe that criminal traits are handed down from sire to son, and it is along these lines of the steadfast- XN A\ Pa, - PEARL EYTINGE. ness of heredity that I hope to make a strong argument against the curse of drugs. I notice that millionaire owners of racing stables are precious careful how they breed their horses, Why otherwise with the breeding of human beings? “For the devil is so busy he so: times has to skip a couple of cen tions. In my lectures I intend to €o straight to the root of this most impor- tant question, in so far as I am able, and as for the horrors of drug slavery more bitter than any human slavery, I speak from an awful personal knowl- edge and experience with the sins and sorrows and suffering which excess in any form brings upon its victim. And. the child that is born of alcoholic passion or morphine exaltation is only too likely to be abnormal, idiotic or a criminal, that I know. If we can’t ieg- islate upon matrimony, at least we can do our best to correct its hideous mis- takes, and that is one of the enés to which I am dedicating my ghastly ex- perience ci whatever it can do.” 1 ~ pomnsnn = ' as ee | 9 y 7