|
THE ROBBER "PO8" Maybe Black Bart wasn't a poet laureate, like Robert Frost. But he was the only "Po8," as he'd like to sign himself, who robbed 27 Wells Fargo stagecoaches before his capture. The Gold Rush in California attracted varmints from as far away as Australia. But none stood out like Black Bart. To distinguish himself from garden variety bandits, he'd leave poems in place of the treasure boxes. And sign them "the Po8."
|
|
 |
Beware of the man His M.O. was to suddenly appear on lonely |
|
stage roads, wearing a light-colored duster and a flour sack over his head with a derby hat perched on top of it. Armed with a shotgun, he'd order in his distinctive deep voice, "Throw down the box!" He was extremely efficient at collecting all the loot in the treasure boxes and never once bothered with small stuff like the passengers valuables. In fact, when a panicked woman tossed him her purse, he gentlemanly returned it back to her and said "Thank you, madam, but I don't need your money. I only want Wells Fargo's." After so many successful robberies, the "Po8" thought his luck would continue forever. But it was not to be. On November 3,1883, he returned to Calaveras County and the site of his first hold-up. Stagecoach driver McConnell, however, was better prepared than most. He had fastened the Wells Fargo box to the bottom of the passenger compartment instead of the expected place beneath the driver's seat. He also had brought his friend Jimmy Rolleri who had brought his friend--a new Henry rifle just in case he wanted to go "a-huntin." Right after Jimmy left the stage to find some game, the Po8, adorned with his regular flour sack and derby hat, sprang from the bushes. But the box was bolted in a different place and it took far more time to rob. And Jimmy was back, aiming at the flour sack. Black Bart had run out of time and luck. Jimmy fired three times, startling the highway man. As the Black Bart fled, he dropped his derby and a handkerchief with the laundry mark FXO7. Black day for Black Bart Wells Fargo detective James Hume and his agents traced the mark through 91 San Francisco laundries to find that the handkerchief belonged to Charles E. Bolton a.k.a. C. E. Boles a.k.a. Black Bart, a respectable mine engineer who was staying at Room 40, 37 2nd Street, San Francisco. Hume had him arrested and in his report recorded that Black Bart was, "A person of great endurance. Exhibited genuine wit under most trying circumstances. Extremely proper and polite in behaviour, eschews profanity." Through with "po8try" He was sentenced to San Quentin Prison for six years but it was shortened to four years for good behavior. Reporters swarmed around him when he was released. They asked if he were going to rob anymore stagecoaches. "No gentlemen," he smilingly replied, "I'm all through with crime." Another reporter asked if he would write more poetry. He laughed, "Now didn't you hear me say that I am through with crime?" Soon after that, he disappeared forever. (Story is used courtesy of Wells Fargo.com) |
|