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WHILE the records given in the preceding pages are those of the professional forgers of to-day, a few of the men who figured prominently in criminal proceedings in the past cannot be left unnoticed. Several of these have been lost sight of for years, and some are perhaps dead, but as their exploits shed light upon crimes of the past and point to a moral, their careers are certainly worthy of mention here.
WALTER G. PATTERSON was a quarter of a century ago classed as an expert forger. H is first crime of note was on June 1, 1861, when he succeeded in cashing at the Pacific National Bank of New York a check for $1,075. It was made payable to the Hon. Simeon Draper, Commissioner of Charities and Corrections, and bore the forged signature of Henry Carr. The forger was run down, but he was afterwards released on bail, which he forfeited and fled from the city. He was recaptured in June, 1865, and when called for trial pleaded guilty. Recorder Hoffman, before whom Patterson was arraigned, after the prisoner’s confession of guilt, and upon a promise to reform, suspended sentence. In the August following the forger was again arrested upon the old charge, and the Recorder then sentenced him to five years in Sing Sing prison. Previous to his being brought up for the Pacific Bank forgery, Patterson was living with a woman named Ryan at Collins’s Hotel, at the foot of Canal Street. The pair occupied costly apartments at the hotel, were spending money freely, and it was suspected that the self-confessed forger was concerned in the passing of several other checks, although it was impossible to fasten the crimes legally upon him.
Vermillyea & Co., bankers of this city, in February, 1870, gave a certified check for $156, payable at the Bank of Commerce, to a stranger who had had a small business transaction with them. The draft was afterwards “raised” to $16,000, and deposited with the Mechanics’ Banking Association for collection. The Bank of Commerce paid the check on their own certification. This led to a long litigation, which resulted in a verdict for the Bank of Commerce, the courts holding that it was only responsible for the original amount of the certification of the check. It was well known that Walter G. Patterson and Spence Pettis were the men who secured the large sum of money upon the raised paper. Pettis was an expert in the use of chemicals, and it was claimed that he altered the figures upon the check.
When the forgery was discovered Patterson had disappeared. Pettis was arrested, however, but was afterwards released for want of evidence. When the case fell through the prisoner was sent to Boston, Mass., to answer for a forgery which he had committed there. Pettis was convicted of the latter offense, and while serving his sentence in the Charlestown State prison the convict hanged himself to the grating of his cell door. Thus ended the career of a most notorious criminal.
JOHN ROSS, while plotting several gigantic schemes in 1866, lived in princely style at the Metropolitan Hotel. He ran an office in Exchange Place for two months, and during that period had large transactions with brokers, buying and selling gold. In that way he secured their confidence. This obtained, he bought gold to the amount of $1,000,000, and gave his own certified checks in payment. The checks were worthless. A few days previous to the stupendous transaction in gold, Ross employed Garten & Co., of Broad Street, to buy for him a number of Western railroad bonds, for which he paid in good money. On the day of his disappearance Ross hypothecated for a loan of $17,000 from the bankers a bundle of bonds supposed to be the identical ones they had purchased for him. When, however, his forgeries became known, Garten & Co. discovered that the bonds on which they had advanced money to Ross were counterfeits.
After plundering right and left, Ross boarded a steamer for South America, leaving the vessel at Pernambuco, Brazil. He was tracked to Bahia and Rio Janeiro, and at the latter place all trace of the fugitive was lost.
JOHN HENRY LIVINGSTON, alias Lewis, alias Matthews, alias De Peyster, on December 3, 1867, in the garb of an express messenger, with the words “American Express Co.” upon a plate on the front of his cap, appeared at the National City Bank. From a large leather wallet the spurious messenger took a check drawn to the order of Henry Keep, President of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad, and signed “C. Vanderbilt.” The check also bore the endorsement, “American Express— collect and deliver at Albany—Henry Keep.” Livingston presented the forged draft to Mr. Work, the paying teller, and requested that bills of a certain denomination be used in making up the package, saying that he would return in a few minutes, having another errand close by. On his return to the bank Livingston was handed the package, containing $75,000, the amount called for by the fraudulent check.
With the money he fled to the West, where he purchased a farm and engaged in stock raising. He was captured there a year or so afterwards. There was a peculiar and interesting incident in connection with the search for the forger. The features and manners of Livingston were so impressed upon Mr. Work’s mind, and his recollection of the entire transaction was so clear that it enabled him to draw a pen and ink sketch of the “layer down.” The portrait revealed Livingston’s identity and led to his arrest.
The prisoner, when brought to trial, pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to four years and nine months’ imprisonment. His farm and stock were confiscated, and the proceeds of the sale given to the bank he had duped.
CHARLES B. ORVIS was in 1873 the proprietor of the City Hotel, and the place was then the rendezvous of the gang of forgers of which Roberts and Gleason were the leading spirits. The hotel keeper had long been a shady character. He was originally a “coniacker” (dealer in counterfeit money), and was first arrested at Cleveland, Ohio, with a confederate named Webster for passing forged bank-bills. They were convicted and sentenced to three and a half years each in the Columbus Penitentiary, and they served their full terms.
Orvis, in June, 1873, while we was still running the hotel, had several financial transactions with the banking firm of George B. Ripley, at No. 66 Broadway. He was simply paving the way for the successful culmination of a well planned scheme. When he had at last established confidence and made his credit good, Orvis one day succeeded in borrowing from the firm $20,000 upon some forged bonds. Since then he has been arrested several times for defrauding various banking firms, and at present there are indictments against him on file in the District Attorney’s office.
The forger’s audacity was most surprising. The New York Sun and Times, several years ago, exposed his character, and Orvis afterwards began suits against the newspapers for showing him up. The suits, of course, collapsed when it was proven that Orvis was really a dangerous criminal.
GEORGE B. WATSON was discharged from State prison in 1873, having completed a term of five years’ imprisonment for burglary. Upon his return to the city the ex-convict married a very respectable young woman, and with his innocent bride went to live in a fashionable apartment house on Fifty-fourth Street, near Broadway. He had not been out of prison long before he entered into co-partnership with a forger, who took him in training. After the necessary education Watson started out as a full-fledged “scratcher.” At the banking office of Samuel White & Co., on Wall Street, several years since, he disposed of some Government bond coupons, for which he received a due-bill calling for the payment of $125. Instead of presenting the latter to the cashier immediately, Watson waited until lunch-time, and then presented the claim. In the meantime he had raised the amount which the due-bill called for to $12,000, and just as the money was being handed to him the forgery was detected. Watson, who had been on the alert, fled from the office and escaped.
When the gigantic fraudulent scheme to flood the market with forged New York, Buffalo and Erie Railroad bonds became known, Watson, who was concerned in the great conspiracy, fled to Europe. Upon his return, several years later, he was arrested. He was then a complete wreck from dissipation, and had to be assisted into the court room. His condition was so pitiful that the complainant asked for the discharge of the prisoner on his own recognizance. Watson was thereupon released, but he rallied, and a few months later on he was again arrested and brought up for a small forgery. Upon his conviction he was sentenced to the penitentiary, where he died before his term expired.
CHARLES R. BECKWITH was arrested January 1, 1876, for robbing his employer, B. T. Babbitt, the soap manufacturer, out of $205,645 by means of forged receipts. Beckwith had been stealing for years before it was suspected that the funds of the firm were being made away with. He was sentenced to ten years’ imprisonment. Beckwith is at present living in Canada.
THOMAS R. LEWIS, the accomplice of Beckwith, who also realized about $200,000 by making false entries in Mr. Babbitt’s books, fled to Europe when the fraud was discovered. He was captured in London, England, and brought back. Upon his return to this city Lewis made restitution as far as he was able, returning altogether property worth $58,000. He was convicted and sentenced to two and a half years imprisonment. Lewis died a few years since in Switzerland.
J. LLOYD HAIGH for many years held an exalted position in society, but like other good men he wandered from the path of rectitude, thereby destroying his good name and casting a dark shadow over that of his family. In 1879 he was arrested and accused of hypothecating forged paper. He was indicted and convicted of forgery in the third degree, and on August 8, 1880, was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment.
LEWIS M. VAN ETEN, on March 1, 1871, was paid $19,000 by the Park National Bank on a check purporting to have been drawn by Hall, Garten & Co., brokers, of No. 30 Broad Street, and certified by the Continental Bank. Upon the discovery of the forgery the Continental Bank refunded the Park Bank the amount they had paid on the check. After the forgery Van Eten disappeared, and remained away for some time. On his return to New York he was arrested, and upon conviction was sentenced to a term of ten years’ imprisonment in Sing Sing. He had not been long in prison before he was pardoned, but upon his release he was re-arrested for a forgery committed at San Francisco, Cal. While on the way to that place for trial, Van Eten committed suicide by swallowing a dose of laudanum, which he had kept concealed upon his person.
LEVI COLE, a man with innumerable aliases, figured as a burglar, forger and dealer in counterfeit money for many years. His first start in crime was handling spurious bank-notes. When the State banks went out of existence Cole turned burglar, and made a specialty of robbing the safes of country banks. His jimmies and other tools he expressed from place to place in a sole-leather gun-case. He was in the habit of calling at the express office with a game-bag over his shoulder and a cartridge belt around his waist. Cole would pass the day in the woods, and in the night the country bank would be robbed. He served two terms for burglary, and at the expiration of the second sentence went direct from prison to a Western city, where his brother kept a hotel. Cole demanded assistance, but it was refused, because, under promises of reformation, he had before deceived his brother. Upon the request being refused, the burglar and forger went to one of the rooms up-stairs and blew his brains out with a revolver.
GEORGE ENGLES, the two Bidwells, and McDonald, with the intention of carrying out gigantic forgeries on an elaborate scale, went to England, and in 1871 commenced operations in Liverpool, where they obtained about ,£6,000. With this capital they proceeded to London, and opened a banking and commission house for the discounting and shaving of commercial paper. McDonald organized the firm under the name of “Warner & Co.” He opened an account with one of the leading London banks, and bona fide transactions were conducted for some time. After gaining the confidence of the bank’s officers, they commenced to discount the paper of Warner & Co., which had been presented for discount by their customers, some of the leading merchants of London.
Previous to the consummation of the scheme, George McDonald and one of the Bidwells became infatuated with two women with whom they lived. Engles objected to this, fearing that his companions would reveal his secrets to their mistresses. McDonald and Bidwell were then residing at St. John’s Wood, Kensington, London. The men refused to give up the women, and laughed at Engles, who threatened to cut off business relations with them. After the gang had realized about a quarter of a million pounds sterling Engles became frightened when informed that the women knew all about the scheme, and with his share of the plunder disappeared. When McDonald and Bidwell undertook to continue the business they were discovered, and the sequel shows that had it not been for the women in whom they had so much confidence, they would have escaped.
In their recklessness the men presented one of the forged notes which had not been dated. The clerk discovered the error, and forwarded it to the firm by whom it was supposed to have been issued. They pronounced it a forgery. One of the Bidwells fled to Scotland, and was there arrested, and his brother was apprehended in Havana, Cuba. McDonald endeavored to get clear of his mistress, but could not. He induced her, however, to accept a passage ticket from Liverpool to New York, telling her that he would join her at the Northern Hotel before the steamer sailed. He did not attempt to meet her, but took a train from London to Folkstone, crossed to France, and took passage at Havre for this city. McDonald’s mistress, becoming enraged at her disappointment, and suspecting the route her lover had taken to get away, betrayed him to the police. A cablegram was sent to this city, and upon the arrival of the steamer the fugitive forger was arrested on board the vessel in the lower bay. After months of litigation McDonald was returned to England, where he was convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment. The Bidwell brothers received like sentences.
McDonald had just finished a sentence of five years’ imprisonment for a forgery which he had committed upon Ball, Black & Co., the jewelers, when he set out with Engles and the Bidwells for Europe to execute the scheme of flooding the financial world with spurious Bank of England notes.
George Engles is dead, and for other mention of him see records of George Wilkes and No. 18.
BUCHANAN CROSS was called “Colonel,” on account of his frequent appearance in a sort of military-cut suit, which aided him many times in the laying down of forged paper. For this class of crime he was sentenced to Sing Sing prison, and while there he forged his own pardon and was liberated. Afterwards he was arrested and tried for forging the Governor’s signature. Cross proved by the warden of the prison that it was impossible for him to have committed the forgery, on account of his not being able to get pen and ink. He was acquitted of the charge, but was detained to serve out his unexpired term.
After his release Cross forged the name of Robert Bonner to a check for $3,156, on the Nassau Bank, New York City, being assisted in the crime by Charley Bishop. The latter went to the Ledger office and subscribed for the paper, and gave his address as at East Orange, N. J. Bishop gave a twenty dollar gold piece in payment for his subscription, and asked that a check for the change be given him, as he wished to send it to Orange. The request was complied with, and thus the forgers obtained Mr. Bonner’s signature. The check was given to David Beech, alias Leach, who took it to Henry Siebert, engraver, at No. 93 Fulton Street, and ordered a book of blank checks, similar to the sample, to be printed for him.
The blanks were taken to “Colonel” Cross, and he made out the check in the name of Robert Bonner. The money was obtained from the bank, and on the following day the forgery was discovered. Beech’s girl was first arrested. She said that her lover had started for Boston the night before, intending to sail for Europe that day. He was arrested by the Boston police on the steamer just as the vessel was leaving the dock. Beech was sentenced to five years’ hard labor and Bishop to three and a half years, on October 29, i860.
Cross was arrested in Canada, but for want of sufficient evidence he was discharged.
CHARLES FREDERICK ULRICH, a Prussian by birth, is one of the few engravers able to cut a United States Treasury plate without any assistance. He is the son of a jeweler and engraver of Dantzig, Germany. Ulrich learned the first part of his trade at his father’s shop, and then finished at a regular establishment at Berlin, Prussia. He came to this country in 1853, being then about twenty years old. His career since has been a checkered one. Ulrich had been here but a few years before he embarked freely in the counterfeiting business, he doing all the engraving, which was a marvel of exactness. Among the plates which he engraved prior to his first conviction in 1868, were a $100 counterfeit on the Central National Bank of New York, a $100 counterfeit of the First National Bank of Boston, Mass., and a $100 counterfeit on the Ohio National Bank of Cincinnati. He printed and disposed of, without a glimmer of detection, all of these, and became quite wealthy, and then, in the early part of 1867, settled himself in Cincinnati for a final effort. He engaged a small house, and there began to engrave a counterfeit of the $500 United States Treasury note. He was engaged upon the plate when he was arrested, and sentenced to the Columbus, Ohio, penitentiary for twelve years.
Ulrich served eight years of his time in the Ohio penitentiary, and in 1879, when arrested with Old Harry Cole and Jacob Ott, he made a confession in which he revealed some interesting information concerning counterfeiting. During the course of his statement he said:
“Counterfeits are usually of small denominations, because there is more money in them for the wholesale dealer. A large bill will soon be stamped as a counterfeit, while the small ones can be changed from bank to bank, and people are not so shy of them. After I came out of the Columbus, Ohio, penitentiary, I started in the lithographing and engraving business in Cincinnati, but failed. Then I went to Philadelphia and took a house at the corner of Sixth and Cumberland streets. There I started to engrave two $50 plates. They were counterfeits of the Central National Bank of New York and the Third of Buffalo. Before they were finished I moved to a place called Oak Lane, six miles from Philadelphia. When these plates had been completed, I started on a $5 plate. In October, 1877, I moved out to Sharon Hill, where' another lot of fives and fifties were printed. The latter were on the Tradesmen’s Bank of New York, and were sent to Europe. There were 2,000 fifties and 8,000 fives printed at Oak Lane, and 2,000 fifties and between 16,000 and 20,000 fives at Sharon Hill, in all nearly $350,000. There was always a man with capital back of me. I know one of my counterfeits just as well as a man would know his own handwriting.”
The first time Ulrich was arrested was in this city. He was caught at work upon a vignette for a counterfeit bank-bill, and upon conviction was sentenced to five years’ imprisonment in Sing Sing. The counterfeiter only served three years of his term, when he was pardoned by Governor Morgan. He had been out of prison but a short time when he engraved the plate from which the Bank of England notes were printed. So well were they executed that the “water mark” was perfect. All these bills were received as genuine by the Bank of England, and an unlimited number of the counterfeits are believed to be still in circulation.
Ulrich, before he became known to the police, served for eighteen months in the British army. That was during the Crimean war. He was, he claimed, enlisted in New York by an English agent, sent to Boston, and from thence by schooner to Halifax, Nova Scotia. As soon as his time was up he returned to the United States and became a full-fledged counterfeiter. He is now in Switzerland.
For further mention of Ulrich see record of George W. Wilkes.
THOMAS BALLARD, for years known all over the Union as the King of Counterfeiters, died while serving out a thirty years’ sentence in the penitentiary at Albany, N. Y. He was a superior engraver, and the fine work on some of his bills was so cleverly and artistically executed as to deceive even the banks and the government. He was classed as a professional in 1865, and his work was then exceedingly fine. Previous to his arrest in October, 1871, Ballard carried on his operations near Buffalo, N. Y., being located in a lonely house on the outskirts of Beach Rock. He was dogged about for months before he was finally traced to his lair. One dark night his secret retreat was surrounded. As soon as Ballard became aware of the trap that had been sprung on him he tried hard to escape, but without avail. At his rendezvous a number of dies and other untensils of the counterfeiter’s art were captured, including an admirably executed plate upon a Buffalo bank. Ballard was duly tried, convicted, and sentenced to the long term in the Albany penitentiary. While the counterfeiter was in prison he made use of his spare time to plan and perfect a valuable invention for registering the actual number of papers printed by any printing press. He made several strenuous but fruitless efforts to invoke the clemency of the law for a pardon or a partial remittance of his sentence.
WILLIAM C. GILMAN was not a professional criminal, still his forgeries, when they were discovered in the fall of 1877, created the greatest excitement in Wall Street. He was an insurance scrip broker, at No. 46 Pine Street, and as his connections were very good indeed, his fall was thereby all the more deplorable. Gilman raised scrip of the Atlantic Mutual and Commercial Mutual Insurance Companies amounting to nearly $300,000, and his forgeries existed for years without discovery. He speculated on false capital, and each year his prospects of redeeming himself became more and more hopeless. His distress became daily more and more terrible, and these symptoms of trouble were obvious to his intimate friends, while the causes were unknown. Gilman was indicted for forgery in the third degree, the specific charge being for the forgery of a $10,000 insurance scrip on the Atlantic and Mutual Insurance Company, bearing date April 27, 1877, and the number 2,100. When the prisoner was arraigned before Recorder Hackett, in the Court of General Sessions, on October 12, 1877, one of the most affecting scenes ever witnessed in a court room took place. Gilman pleaded guilty to the charge, and, at the request of his counsel, the Court afterwards permitted the prisoner to read a confession he had made explaining the manner in which his crime had been committed. The insurance broker’s confession was as follows:
OCTOBER 3, 1877.
TO REV. DR. HOUGHTON AND MY DEAR WIFE, BROTHERS AND SISTERS:
It is proper to state certain facts in explanation, not extenuation, of my conduct. From the time I began business I had placed in my hands, by friends trusting me implicitly, sums of money ranging from $100 to $20,000. These sums would often remain undisturbed for weeks and months, and as I paid for the privilege, it was proper and was understood that I employed them in business; I never speculated in stocks on margin, nor lost nor won money by any wager or game. I did make investments in enterprises which promised well from time to time, in good faith, and which turned out utterly bad. For this my judgment is to be blamed. The possession of so much money and the control of it gradually made me feel and act as if it were my own, and encroachments upon it, whether from losses or expenses, which began many years ago, came so gradually that I was scarcely sensible of them, and, while I knew that I was running behind, I could not bear to look the deficiency squarely in the face, but hoped for better times. Times grew worse instead of better. The failure of the Sun Insurance Company and the vicissitudes of the other companies impaired the confidence of buyers in everything but Atlantic, and competition for that the last few years has carried prices so high as to leave no margin for profit, and has made the commissions utterly inadequate to meet the scale of expenses on which I was doing business and living. Consequently my business was· greatly restricted. The worse my affairs grew the more unwilling I became to investigate them. My books and accounts, which had been my pride, were neglected. I drifted hopelessly in a sea of trouble, seizing every straw which seemed to give a little present help, and in some cases I allowed my reputation to suffer by long delay in making up accounts which were called for. This moral weakness was quite inexcusable. How easy to say so now, but how hard it seemed to do what I should years ago have done in reducing expenses at home and in the office, and in resolutely closing accounts which were a temptation to me, and which, if honestly treated, must at that rate of interest have proved unprofitable.
Prior to the panic of 1873 I had made improper use of trust funds in my hands under the pressure of declining business, and the troubles of that year involved me in additional losses. After that time the accounts in my hands began to be drawn on by the depositors more freely than before, and not unfrequently I found myself sorely pushed, but always managed to extricate myself without doing anything criminal, though I must confess the moral baseness of my proceedings these many years.
As nearly as I can remember I must have put forth the first “raised” certificate not quite two years ago. It was so easy to do it! Yet what a struggle it cost me!
I have suffered more all these months in thinking of my baseness in abusing the confidence of my friends in No. 39 Pine Street, in the two insurance companies and in the bank, every one of whom has always treated me with the greatest kindness, than at the absolute wickedness of these crimes.
Blindly hoping that the next step would extricate me, I plunged in deeper and deeper. I hope I make it plain that my endeavor was to cover the deficiencies of a term of years.
It is impossible for me to state without reference to memoranda, which I have not by me, what amounts are afloat, but I am confident that there is nothing but what will be found at the American Exchange Bank, Union Insurance Company, Commercial Insurance Company, Henry Talmadge & Co.’s, and my friends will find the whole truth there. I have not sold any fraudulent securities, but borrowed on them.
It is proper for me to say that I am alone responsible for every wrong act. No human being would have had a suspicion of it, and I alone am to blame for the false pride which has made me incur expenses at home and in my business which could not lawfully be met. My wife never persuaded me to any extravagance, and she would have accepted any restraint I might have put upon her.
In addition to these fraudulent transactions other persons than those named must suffer to a considerable degree—chiefly my brothers and sisters—probably to the extent of $75,000, and several other persons who have had accounts with me for years. I cannot now state amounts of these latter accounts approximately.
To sum up briefly, I would say that a declining business, bad investments, heavy expenses, both business and domestic, and personal extravagance, have betrayed me. No, I must be just with myself, and confess that I have deliberately walked, in the clearest light and knowledge, in the face of the best instruction, into this pit. Some may call it madness; I call it sin. Those who knew me in business relations alone may not be aware of it, but every one who knows me personally will bear witness that my intimate friends and associates are all with some of the best and purest who ever lived. They know that I loved better to give away money than to spend it for myself; they know that my thoughts and my interests were more with the various charitable works with which it was my happiness to be connected than on money getting, by right means or wrong. They will mourn with me that I should have valued the good opinion of good men more than a good conscience and my own self-respect. They will wonder how it was possible for a man to so far deceive himself as to believe that he really cared for and valued things that were true, honest, pure, just, lovely and of good repute, while, beneath a smooth surface, his heart was rotten and dishonest to the core.
I suppose no one will be much surprised that suicide has been much in my thoughts for many years, and while I hoped that some change of fortune might avert the impending disclosure, I have feared for some weeks that it might be near at hand. I deliberated before this whether I should add sin to sin, but had resolved to meet the crisis as soon as it should come meekly and frankly. I have now but one desire, and that is to throw all possible light on every dark corner of these transactions, regardless of consequences personal to myself, and to aid in distributing everything that remains to those who are entitled to it. Then commending my wife and worse than fatherless children to God, how gladly, if it be his will, will I do penance for my crime in prison and pray for death whenever He pleases to send it—or, hardest lot of all, if life be possible to one who has forfeited the respect of every human being, I will try to live and to add not another stain to the name of
WILLIAM C. GILMAN.
Nearly every eye in the court room was moistened when the reading of the foregoing touching appeal had ended. Tears coursed down the cheeks of the stern Recorder as he proceeded to pass sentence. It was a moment of painful suspense for all in the court. He said:
“After the representations which have been made and the statements which have just been read in court, statements made by the accused to those whom he loved dearest in life, I cannot be guided by my own feelings in this matter. I cannot depend upon them, and I have one of the greatest duties to perform that belong to any age. In view of the enormity of the crime the prisoner has committed, while feelings of the utmost sympathy were extended to his wife and family, I feel it my duty to pronounce the sentence of the Court, that the prisoner be confined in the State prison for the term of five years at hard labor.”
Sad as was the scene in the court room, there was another sadder still on December 3, 1879. It occurred in the Yantic cemetery, near Norwichtown, Conn., when Gilman, who had been pardoned by Governor Robinson, fresh from Auburn prison, stood by the open grave of his wife. While in prison his daughter had died, and he was released in time to attend the funeral of his wife, whose heart had been broken with sorrow over her husband’s sin. Gilman’s false step will stand forever as a warning to others.