Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in SolitudeBidwell, Austin
General
Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
Bidwell, Austin
Bank fraud -- England; Bank of England; Bidwell, Austin; Criminals -- Biography
How I grieved all through the twenty years of captivity that I had not
had the moral courage to start afresh upon a basis of truth, sobriety
and honorable endeavor.
Instead of cutting down my expenses, I rather became more extravagant,
fearing my companions would suspect I was pressed for money. How much
more manly had I called them together and told them we must part
company.
Meeting Irving from time to time, he was most flattering in his
attentions, while I was young enough and silly enough to be pleased with
his notice. One evening about this time I met him while coming out of
Wallack's Theatre. Shaking hands warmly, he invited me to supper at what
was then known as upper Delmonico's. After supper, walking to the St.
Denis Hotel at Broadway and 11th street, we found Detectives Stanley and
White. Here wine was ordered, and long after midnight we parted, they
first having exacted a promise to dine with them the following night at
Delmonico's, at the same time stating that they wished to make me a
business proposition.
The next evening White came in and said we would dine at a restaurant at
Sixth avenue and 31st street, instead of at Delmonico's; then he left
me, upon my promise to be on hand.
At eleven I arrived, and entering the restaurant was at once recognized
by a waiter, evidently on the lookout, and ushered into a private room
upstairs. Only White had arrived, but soon Irving and Stanley came, and
supper was ordered. With such gentry as these wine is always in order.
Then they became confidential, and the conversation turned to the
subject of making money. Very skillfully they extracted the confession
that I had none. When excited by the talk and the wine I cried out, "By
heaven, I want money!" Stanley grasped my hand and said: "Of course you
do; a man's a fool without it." Irving interjected: "Are you game to do
us a favor and make ten thousand for yourself?" "But how?" I gasped. "Go
to Europe and negotiate some stolen bonds we have, will you?"
For $10,000 to become accessory to a crime!
It was an appalling proposition, and I shrank from it with an aversion I
could not conceal any more than he and his confederates could conceal
their chagrin over the way I took it, and over the fact that their
secret had been imparted to another. More wine was ordered, and before
we parted I had promised not only secrecy, but, worse still, I had also
promised to consider the proposition and give my answer the following
night.
As my evil genus would have it, that very morning I had a visit in my
office from the agent of my landlord, requesting arrears of rent, and
from a tradesman whom I was owing, demanding immediate payment of an
overdue bill.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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