True Crime Detective Stories. Cleveland Moffett

      The Northampton Bank Robbery

       Table of Contents

      About midnight on Tuesday, January 25, 1876, five masked men entered the house of John Whittelsey in Northampton, Massachusetts. Mr. Whittelsey was the cashier of the Northampton National Bank, and was known to have in his possession the keys of the bank building and the combination to the bank vault. The five men entered the house noiselessly, with the aid of false keys, previously prepared. Passing up-stairs to the sleeping-apartments, they overpowered seven inmates of the house, gagging and binding them so that resistance or alarm was impossible. These were Mr. Whittelsey and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. T. B. Cutler, Miss Mattie White, Miss Benton, and a servant-girl.

      The bedroom of Mr. and Mrs. Whittelsey was entered by two men who seemed to be leaders of the band. One wore a long linen duster buttoned nearly to the knees, also gloves and overshoes; the other wore a jacket and overalls. Both men had their faces concealed behind masks, and one of them carried a dark-lantern. On entering the room the two men went directly to the bed, one standing on either side, and handcuffed Mr. Whittelsey and his wife. Both carried revolvers. The proceedings were much the same in the other rooms.

      After some delay and whispered consultation, the robbers ordered the five women to get up and dress. When they had done so, they were roped together by ankles and wrists, and taken into a small room, where they were kept under guard by one of the band. Mr. Cutler also was imprisoned in the same way. Then the two leaders devoted themselves to Mr. Whittelsey. They told him plainly that they had come for the keys of the bank and the combination of the vault, and that they would "make it hot" for him unless he gave them what they wanted. Mr. Whittelsey replied that it was useless to attempt to break into the bank, as the locks were too strong for their efforts and he would not betray his trust. At this the man in the linen duster shrugged his shoulders and said they would see about that.

      Mr. Whittelsey was then taken downstairs, and again summoned to surrender the keys. Again he refused. At this the man in the overalls put his hand in the cashier's trousers-pocket and drew forth a key.

      "Is this the key to the bank?" he asked.

      "Yes, it is," answered the cashier, hoping to gain time.

      "You lie," said the robber, with threatening gesture, at the same time trying the key in the lock of the front door of the house, which it turned.

      "Don't hit him yet," said the other; "he is sick." Then he asked Mr. Whittelsey if he wanted a drink of brandy. Mr. Whittelsey shook his head no. Then the man in the linen duster renewed his demands. He wanted the combination of the vault. Mr. Whittelsey gave him some figures, which the robber wrote down on a piece of paper. These were for the outer door of the vault. He demanded the combination for the inner door, and Mr. Whittelsey gave him other figures. Having written these down also, the robber came close to his prisoner and said, "Will you swear these figures are correct?"

      "I will," answered Mr. Whittelsey.

      "You are lying again. If they are correct, let's hear you repeat them."

      The cashier could not do this, and so disclosed that the figures were not the right ones.

      "See, Number One," said the robber, addressing his comrade, "we're wasting time; we'll have to teach him to stop lying."

      As he spoke he struck the sharp point of his lead-pencil into Mr. Whittelsey's face so violently as to make a wound, and followed this with several blows on the body.

      "Will you tell us now?" he asked.

      Mr. Whittelsey kept silent. Then both men came at him, wringing his ears, shaking him by the throat, hurling him to the floor, and pounding their knees into his chest. For three hours this torture was continued. More than once the ruffians placed their revolvers at Mr. Whittelsey's head, declaring they would blow his brains out unless he yielded. Finally he did yield; the suffering was too great; the supreme instinct of self-preservation asserted itself. Toward four o'clock in the morning, bruised from head to foot, and worn beyond further resistance, he surrendered the keys, and revealed the true combination of the vault.

      Then the robbers went away, leaving two of their associates to watch over the prisoners. One of the band, before his departure, did not disdain to search Mr. Whittelsey's clothes and take his watch and chain and fourteen dollars in money. The last of the band remained in the house until six o'clock; and it was an hour later before Mr. Whittelsey succeeded in freeing himself from his bonds.

      He hurried at once to the bank, arriving there soon after seven o'clock. He found the vault door locked, and its dials broken off, so that it was impossible at the moment to determine the extent of the robbery, or, indeed, whether there had been any robbery. It was necessary to send to New York for an expert before the vault could be opened, which was not accomplished until late that night, twenty hours after the attack had been made. Then it was found that the robbers had been only too successful, having secured money and securities estimated at a million and a quarter dollars. Much of this sum was safe-deposits, and the loss fell on the depositors; and to some it was the loss of their whole property.

      At this time the authorities had no clue to the identity of the robbers, though they had left behind them numerous evidences of their presence, such as dark-lanterns, masks, sledge-hammers, overshoes, and the like. Their escape had been managed as skilfully as the robbery itself. Sheriff's officers and detectives did their best during subsequent