My last article dealt with the story of Maj. Jacob Roemer, a Flushing Civil War hero, and one of his soldiers, Adam Worth. While young Worth performed well as a soldier, after he was wounded he…
By Joan Brown Wettingfeld
Flushing Hero, Scoundrel Met During Civil War, Part II
My last article dealt with the story of Maj. Jacob Roemer, a Flushing Civil War hero, and one of his soldiers, Adam Worth. While young Worth performed well as a soldier, after he was wounded he started on a road that made him more of a villain.
He performed only a limited number of honest jobs and ended up a famous scoundrel who was one of the most well-known men in the world and especially so in late 19th century Europe. He was a master criminal, though he never harmed his victims physically.
Worth’s history has its roots in the life of poverty he knew from childhood. His life’s aim, which was to be achieved by rather nefarious means, was to enjoy the camaraderie of the rich and famous. But he became a thief who stole jewels and works of art.
Oddly enough he fell in love with a famous painting, that of the Lady Georgiana Spencer, ancestor of England’s Princess Diana whose portrait was painted by the famed artist Gainsborough in the 18th century, and it played a significant role in his life. It is a far reach from a poor boy’s service in a Flushing unit of the Union Army to an unusual international notoriety.
There were, of course, rumors of Worth’s wealthy heritage, while he was the son of poor immigrants from Germany. While a very young boy he had his eye on a better life and he determined not to let anyone take advantage of him. His rise to international fame was a calculated one.
The Pinkerton Detective Agency was hot on the trail of Worth when he deserted as a soldier during the Civil War and he decided to try his luck in New York City to avoid arrest. In the city the Draft Riot of 1864 led to anti-war sentiment, so he felt more secure there. After Gen. Lee surrendered, young Worth fled to Liverpool, England, where he met two people who were to influence his life.
One was a bar-maid named Kitty Flynn and the other a man named Bullard whose new “identity” was to be Charles H. Wells, a Texas oil man. Worth assumed the name Henry Judson Raymond. All had their hearts set on better days.
While in Liverpool, Worth (now Raymond) began his criminal career by making off with 25,000 English pounds by breaking into a pawnbrokers shop, a feat he was to accomplish several times. Worth and his new friends got bored with this and headed off to London in search of bigger game.
The story of the Gainsborough painting of the famous Duchess of Devonshire fascinated Worth. It had disappeared and been resold a few times, and all in London at the time became enthralled by its beauty. The world of fashion was influenced by it, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had a female character in one of his stories wearing a Duchess-style brimmed hat sporting a coquettish feather.
The rediscovery of the painting and a coming auction of it set Worth’s mind on becoming its possessor “by hook or crook.” A man named William Agnew bid $600,000, and the painting became his; however, by the end of the month Worth stole it. How he maneuvered the robbery is a story in itself.
This daring step earned him the title in Europe of “The Napoleon of Crime,” and now he could have his beloved Duchess as long as he wished.
In 1871 Worth, Kitty and her new husband arrived in Paris after Worth’s robbery of the Boylston Bank in England, and they started a new enterprise, beginning a life with the spoils. They bought an abandoned three-story structure and refurbished it to become the lavish American Bar.
With its food and catering items imported from the United States, its glamorous rooms, special entertainments and full-scale gambling house, the establishment became notoriously famous. Here Worth played host to the Paris underworld and visitors who were high rollers, as well as many felons who were looked upon as ready for future “assignments.” It was one of the most efficient gangs in history including as it did bank robbers, forgers and super burglars.
Worth, however, had more than an interest in one visitor who showed up — none other than the son of the founding father of Pinkerton’s, named William. Pinkerton’s Agency had been set up by Abraham Lincoln to locate Civil War deserters and now was feared by every crook in the world. It spelled trouble even though the agency’s jurisdiction did not cover places outside of the United States.
It was not long before the French Surete, goaded by Pinkerton, was on the trail. But the wily Worth, who was one step ahead of them, stole 1,000 English pounds worth of diamonds from a salesman, liquidated the assets of his establishment and left Paris.
He had waited 35 years to possess the Gainsborough painting of his beloved Duchess and his next task was to steal it, and this he did. The famous painting was then to spend a great deal of time in his attic or under his mattress. When he travelled, the portrait went with him concealed in a Saratoga trunk especially made for him.
In the 1870s Worth decided to head for the diamond fields in Capetown, South Africa, a source of easily portable and exchangeable cash. It was not long before $500,000 worth of them disappeared from a post office safe where they resided between shipments. Worth was eventually caught and served time. He spent seven dark years in prison. It seemed his former lifestyle was over.
When he was at last freed, he had the funding he needed to start over — his golden egg, the Gainsborough painting. Arriving in New York, he immediately made an appointment with William Pinkerton in Chicago, and the painting went with him. Surprisingly enough, he told Pinkerton, “I want you to be the man who recovers the greatest masterpiece in the history of art.”
A most unusual deal was made through Pinkerton and Scotland Yard and money from the true heirs was given to Worth for its relinquishment to them. In January 1892 Worth died and was buried in Highgate Cemetery, the register of his burial bearing the pseudonym of his criminal days, “Henry J. Raymond, Esquire.” The son he had left for his wife to care for, Henry Raymond Jr., became a Pinkerton detective.
This amazing story, which began with a Flushing recruit and a Civil War hero, has another unusual twist. Called the “Napoleon of Crime” in Europe, Worth was also the model, it is said, of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s “Professor Moriarity.”
Joan Brown Wettingfeld is a historian and free-lance writer and can be reached at JBBAY@aol.com.
