BANDIT BIOGRAPHIES
HARMONIZATION BT PAG1
JIM FISK Alfred Q. Wathatt .... 416
JESSE JAMES Marion Lychenheim , . , 420
SAM BASS Alfred 0. Wathatt .... 422
418
JIM FISK
Jim Fisk was an American business man who rose from Vermont country peddler to he a Civil
War government supply contractor, a cotton speculator, a Wall Street broker, owner of the Nar-
ragansett Steamship Lines, owner of the Grand Opera House of New York, Colonel of the Ninth
Regiment of the New York National Guard, director of the Erie railroad and nicknamed " Prince
Erie." He joined Jay Gould and others in a conspiracy to corner the gold of the United States in
1869, was instrumental in bringing on the financial crash of Black Friday, bought and sold judges,
courts, decisions and writs of injunction, was a participant in the corruption of Tweed and Tam-
many. He drove a coach and eight horses around New York soliciting supplies for the Chicago fire
sufferers, sent a carload of provisions and clothes to the stricken city, dispensed charity and won a
large following of people who believed him a hero of proportions and heart.
He managed all things for worldly success till he met Helen Josephine Mansfield. He bought
her a house with the winnings of one night's gambling, gave her horses, jewels, opera box tickets,
and sent her funny, pompous love letters. She was his plaything; he was her pockctbook. She
gave his letters to Edward S. Stokes of Philadelphia, who was the Other Man and who came and
lived with her in the house that was a free gift and token. Newspaj>ers published an affidavit of a
negro butler of this house telling of a plot of Miss Mansfield and Stokes to force Fisk to pay $$00,000
to get his letters back, his chuckling, pompous love letters.
When Miss Mansfield sued for lil>el, Fisk's lawyer declared at the trial, "I expect to show that
Mr. Fisk found this lady without a dollar; that after lavishing upon her means enough to have
satisfied Cleopatra herself, when the supply ceased, means were resorted to for the purpose of re-
newing them. Our defense is that this prosecution has no basis in good faith, nothing but an attempt
to extort money. And have I not a right to show, if such be the fact, that finding this lady without
a dollar, and having enriched her although like most riches obtained in this way, it is rapidly
disappearing that she has had resort to this means to replenish her treasury? Cleopatra aye,
like unto her; for as the Egyptian siren queen is spoken of by the grandest of poets, 'age cannot
wither her, nor custom stale her infinite variety/ "
The defense won. Stokes with a gun met Fisk in the Grand Central Hotel one afternoon and sent
two bullets into his victim, who died that night. Stokes was tried and given a life sentence. Melo-
dramatic newspaj>er and pulpit comment followed. Of the three, actors in the tragedy, a writer
declared, "One goes, how unprepared! to his long home -one goes to the solitary gloom of a murder-
er's cell one to a life of deep, dark, ungovernable remorse." Henry Ward Iteecher turned loose
an invective declaring:
"And that supreme mountebank of fortune the astounding event of his age: that a man with
some smartness in business, but absolutely without moral sense, and as absolutely devoid of shame
as the desert of Sahara is of grass that this man, with one leap, should have vaulted to the very
summit of power in New York, and for seven to ten years should have held the courts in his hands,
and the Legislature and the most consummate invested interest of the land in his hands, and laughed
at England and laughed at New York, and matched himself against the financial skill of the whole
city, and outwitted the whole, and rode out to this hour in glaring and magnificent prosperity
shameless, vicious, criminal, abominable in his lusts, and flagrant in his violation of public decency
that this man should have been the supremest there; and yet in an instant, by the hand of a fellow
culprit, God's providence struck him to the ground! And yet I say to every young man who has
looked upon this glaring meteor, and seen his course of prosperity, and thought that perhaps in-
tegrity was not so necessary, * Mark the end of the wicked man, ' and turn back again to the ways of
integrity. "
415
JIM PISK
And there came a song registering its own viewpoint, using the memory of Jim Fisk, a briber
and comiptionist of courts, as an instance in which to lament the ancient fact that the poor get the
worst of it when they go into court against the rich. . . . Text and tune here are from N. D. Cochran
of Toledo, Ohio, who knows much more than most men do about corrupt courts, fixed juries, and
crooked judges. The song i.s melodramatic and lias maudlin lines. Yet it has been widely known
and sung across decades in which Jim Fisk, his woman, his assassin, and all their follies were for-
gotten and being forgotten were forgiven. It has lived on and had a certain folk song vitality as a
cry for justice, as a moan over money and cunning, greed and hypocrisy, so often winning the
authorities and the decisions, the power and the glory.
Arr. A. G. W.
mf Tempo di 9ale t moderate
tri-al by the ju - ry, you'll see If you've plen-ty of stamps you can hold up your
410
JIM FISK
head, And walk from your own pris - on door, But they'll hang you up
rit.
high, if you* ve no friends or gold, Let the rich go, but hang up the poor.
REFRAIN
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<Ki=^P
In the tri - als for mur - der we have now - a - days, The rich ones get
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417
off swift and sure;.
If you've thou - sands to pay
(unpoco |
to the
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"
n'/ard
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ju - ry and judge, You may bet they'll go back on the poor.
1 If you'll listen a while, I'll sing you a song
Of this glorious land of the free;
And the difference I'll show 'twixt the rich and the poor,
In a trial by the jury, you'll see.
If you've plenty of stamps, you can hold up your head
And walk from your own prison door,
But they'll hang you up high, if you've no friends or gold,
Let the rich go, but hang up the poor.
Refrain: In the trials for murder we have nowadays,
The rich ones get off swift and sure;
If you've thousands to pay to the jury and judge,
You may bet they'll go back on the poor.
418
JIM F1SK
Til sing of a man who's now dead in his grave,
A good man as ever was born ;
Jim Fisk he was called and his money he gave
To the outcast, the poor, and forlorn.
We all know he loved both women and wine,
But his heart it was right, I am sure;
Though he lived like a prince in his palace so fine,
Yet he never went back on the poor.
Refrain: If a man was in trouble, Fisk helped him along,
To drive the grim wolf from the door;
lie strove to do right, though he may have done wrong,
But he never went back on the poor.
3 Jim Fisk was a man wore his heart on his sleeve,
No matter what people might say;
And he did all his deeds, both the good and the bad,
In the broad open light of the day.
With his grand six-in-hand, on the beach at Long Branch,
He cut a big dash to be sure;
But Chicago's great fire showed the world that Jim Fisk,
With his wealth, still remembered the poor.
Refrain: When the telegram came that the homeless that night
Were starving to death slow but sure,
His lightning express manned by noble Jim Fisk
Flew to feed all the hungry and poor.
4 Now what do you think of the trial of Stokes,
Who murdered this friend of the poor?
When such men get free, is there anyone safe
To step outside their own door?
Is there one law for the poor and one for the rich?
It seems so, at least so I say;
If they hang up the poor, why surely the rich
Ought to swing up the very same way.
Refrain: Don't show any favor to friend or to foe;
The beggar or prince at your door.
The big millionaire you must hang up, also,
But never go back on the poor.
419
JESSE JAMES
There is only one American bandit who is classical, who is to this country what Robin Hood or
Dick Turpin is to England, whose exploits are so close to the mythical and apocryphal that to get
a true picture of him we must read a stern inquiry such as Robertus Love's book, "The Rise and
Fall of Jesse James." For the uninformed it should be stated that Jesse was living in St. Joseph,
Missouri, under the name of Howard, when, unarmed, he was shot in the back of the head, and
killed, by his supposed young friend, Robert Ford.
Arr. M. L.
It was on a Wednesday night, the moon was shining bright, They robbed the Glendale train, And the
T
s
peo-ple they did say, for man-y miles a- way, Twos the out-laws Frank and Jes-se James.
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REFRAIN
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Jes-se had a wife to mourn all her life, The chil - dren they are brave. Twas a
420
JESSE JAMES
J
dirt - y lit - tie cow-ard shot Mis-ter How-ard, And laid Jes-se James in his grave.
1 It was on a Wednesday night, the moon was shining bright,
They robbed the Glendale train.
And the people they did say, for many miles away,
'Twas the outlaws Frank and Jesse James.
Refrain Jesse had a wife to mourn all her life,
The children they are brave.
'Twas a dirty little coward shot Mister Howard,
And laid Jesse James in his grave.
2 It was Rolx?rt Ford, the dirty little coward,
I wonder how he docs feel,
For he ate of Jesse's bread and he slept in Jesse's bed,
Then he laid Jesse James in his grave. Refrain
8 It was his brother Frank that robtxnl the Gallatin bank,
And carried the money from the town.
It was in this very place that they had a little race,
For they shot Captain Sheets to the ground. Refrain
4 They went to the crossing not very far from there,
And there they did the same;
And the agent on his knees he delivered up the keys
To the outlaws Frank and Jesse James. Refrain
5 It was on a Saturday night, Jesse was at home
Talking to his family brave,
When the thief and the coward, little Robert Ford,
Laid Jesse James in his grave. Refrain
6 How people held their breath when they heard of Jesse's death,
And wondered how he ever came to die.
Twas one of the gang, dirty Robert Ford,
That shot Jesse James on the'sly. Refrain
7 Jesse went to his rest with his hand on his breast.
The devil will be upon his knee.
He was born one day in the county of Clay,
And came from a solitary race. Refrain
421
SAM BASS
"If a man knows any secrets he should die and go to hell with them in him," said Sam Bass
as he lay bleeding from bullet wounds, and Texas Rangers and officers of the law asked him who
were his partners. He and three of his boys, all handy with their six-shooters, on July 20, 1878,
were in Round Rock, Texas, loafing sort of careless in a cigar store next to a bank they had their
eye on to rob. Officers of the law, who had been tipped off by the squealer Murphy, spoke to Sam
and his boys asking who they were, where they came from, how they made their living, and other
questions often asked of strangers by men wearing stars and badges. Shooting began. One officer
dropped dead. So did Seaborn Barnes, " right bower to Sam Bass." Sam got away, was found in
woods near by next day, and died of his wounds on the day after that; it was his 27th birthday
anniversary. In the woods, knowing he couldn't live, he gave Frank Jackson his horse and told
him to make a get-away, though Jackson begged to stay and fight. Like other bandits of legend
and fame Sam Bass was good to the poor. "He would give a poor woman a twenty -dollar gold
piece for a dinner and take no change," wrote W. P. Webb in No. 8 of the Texas Folk Lore Society
publications. "He paid farmers well for the horses he took from them, though sometimes he did
not have time to see the farmer. . . . Sam Bass relics are scattered over the country, everywhere.
His belt with some cartridges in it is in the library of the University of Texas. A carpenter at
Snyder has a horseshoe from Bass's l>est race horse nailed to the top of his tool chest. Near Belton
are some live oak trees that Bass is said to have shot his initials in while riding at full speed. Horns
of steers supposed to have l>een killed by Bass sell over the country at fancy prices. In Montague
County, there is a legend of $30,000 of loot buried by Sam Bass. Again, he is supposed to have left
treasure in the Llano country. At McNeill, near Austin, there is a cave in which Sam Bass hid
when he was in retirement. There he kept his horses and from there made his forays". . . . Legend
wrote an epitaph on his monument which is not there: Would That He Were Good as He was Brave.
Near Sam's pretentious monument, mutilated by souvenir collectors, is a rough sandstone memorial
to Seaborn Barnes, with the inscription: He Was Right Bower to Sam Bass. Of this, Webb, a
Texan, commented, "It is written in language Bass would have loved; it has a certain impertinence
to law abiding people in the nearby graves, a certain pride in the leader at whose heels Barnes died.
The spirit of the person who wrote the seven words of that epitaph is the spirit that has created the
legend of Sam Bass in Texas. " Ami, of course, some such spirit has kept the biographic Sam Bass
ballad alive and going these many years since he met his doom at Round Rock.
AIT. A. G. W.
Sam Bass was born in In-di-an - a, it was his na - tive home, And at the age of
423
SAM BASS
9/1*4.
a
t
sev - en -teen young Sam be - gan to roam. Sam first came out to Tex - as
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1 Sam Bass was born in Indiana, it was his native home,
And at the age of seventeen young Sarn began to roam.
Sam first came out to Texas a cowboy for to l>e,
A kinder-hearted fellow you seldom ever sec.
2 Sam used to deal in race stock, one called the Dcnton mare,
He matched her in scrub races, and took her to the fair.
Sam used to coin the money and spent it just as free,
He always drank good whiskey wherever he might be.
3 Sam left the Collins ranch in the merry month of May
With a herd of Texas cattle the Black Hills for to see,
Sold out in Custer City and then got on a spree,
A harder set of cowboys you seldom ever see.
4 On their way back to Texas they robbed the U. P. train,
And then split up in couples and started out again.
Joe Collins and his partner were overtaken soon,
With all their hard-earned money they had to meet their doom.
SAM BASS
5 Sam made it back to Texas all right side up with care;
Rode into the town of Denton with all his friends to share.
Sam's life was short in Texas; three robberies did he do,
He robbed all the passenger, mail, and express cars too.
6 Sam had four companions four bold and daring lads
They were Richardson, Jackson, Joe Collins, and Old Dad;
Four more bold and daring cowboys the rangers never knew,
They whipped the Texas rangers and ran the boys in blue.
7 Sam had another companion, called Arkansas for short,
Was shot by a Texas ranger by the name of Thomas Floyd;
O, Tom is a big six-footer and thinks he's mighty fly,
But I can tell you his racket, he's a deadbeat on the sly.
8 Jim Murphy was arrested, and then released on bail;
He jumped his bond at Tyler and then took the train for Terrell;
But Mayor Jones had posted Jim and that was all a stall,
'Twas only a plan to capture Sam before the coming of fall.
9 Sam met his fate at Round Rock, July the twenty-first,
They pierced poor Sam with rifle, balls and emptied out his purse.
Poor Sarn he is a corpse and six foot under clay,
And Jackson's in the bushes trying to get away.
10 Jim had borrowed Sam's good gold and didn't want to pay,
The only shot he saw was to give poor Sam away.
He sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn,
O what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
11 And so he sold out Sam and Barnes and left their friends to mourn,
what a scorching Jim will get when Gabriel blows his horn.
Perhaps he's got to heaven, there's none of us can say,
But if I'm right in my surmise he's gone the other way.
421