Legends of the Old West - SWINDLERS Ep. 1 | “Soapy Smith”

Episode Date: July 19, 2023

From Colorado to Alaska, Jefferson “Soapy” Smith made a name for himself as one of the premier con artists of the Old West. He used a variety of tricks to swindle people out of their money, but none was more famous than the soap-with-a-prize scam. Join Black Barrel+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons: blackbarrel.supportingcast.fm/join Apple users join Noiser+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons. Click the Noiser+ banner on Apple or go to noiser.com/subscriptions to get started with a 7-day free trial. For more details, visit our website www.blackbarrelmedia.com and check out our social media pages. We’re @OldWestPodcast on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. On YouTube, subscribe to LEGENDS+ for ad-free episodes and bingeable seasons: hit “Join” on the Legends YouTube homepage. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The thud of heavy boots on wooden planks echoed through the evening air as a man marched toward the warehouse at the end of the wharf. The wharf jutted out into Mud Bay on the edge of the tiny Alaskan town of Skagway. The town occupied a small, flat strip of land at the end of a narrow valley that cut through towering mountains. Up in those mountains, in the Yukon Territory, was the site of the newest gold rush. Gold had lured the man to Skagway, who now tromped down the wharf. But he didn't come to spend his days up in the mountains, standing in the freezing cold streams, or swinging a pickaxe for hours on end. He came to Skagway to mine the miners, as they say. But his operations had led to trouble, as they had in other places, which was why he fled all the way to Alaska.

in other places, which was why he fled all the way to Alaska, and that trouble had forced this confrontation. As the evening light quickly faded behind the mountains, the man heard raised voices erupt from the warehouse ahead. He continued undeterred, with a rifle slung over his shoulder. As he drew closer, he saw the outlines of four men standing guard in the distance. As he drew closer, he saw the outlines of four men standing guard in the distance. They blocked the only passage to the warehouse, and they looked armed. The man stormed past three of the guards and walked right up to the fourth. The fourth guard and the man who was on a mission were enemies. As they squared off, heated words flew back and forth.

Words quickly escalated into a struggle, and the struggle escalated into gunplay. The man who had marched onto the wharf had enough time to say, My God, don't shoot, before rifle shots echoed off the mountains. Both enemies dropped to the wooden planks of the wharf. A crowd rushed to encircle the two men. As the onlookers whispered in muffled tones, there was a collective gasp when someone cried out that one of the men was already dead. From Black Barrel Media, this is Legends of the Old West. I'm your host, Chris Wimmer, and this season we're telling six stories of legendary con artists of the Old West. This story is about the man who popularized the scam that earned him a nickname.

This is Episode 1, Soapy Smith. Jefferson Randolph Smith II was born in Georgia just a few months before the beginning of the Civil War. His family was wealthy, and its members were well-educated. But the war destroyed much of their wealth, and they moved to Round Rock, Texas in 1876 when Smith was 16 years old. Two years later, in July 1878, one of the most exciting events in the history of Round Rock happened. A posse made up of Texas Rangers and others battled the infamous outlaw Sam Bass. Bass was shot and ultimately killed, and shortly afterward, Jefferson Smith decided it was time to leave home and strike out on his own. Smith set out for Fort Worth, and he had very humble beginnings as a swindler.

Smith started out by following carnivals where he sold fake trinkets and cheap jewelry. He was a quick learner and soon mastered the art of making a quick buck. He learned how to run games like the shell game and three-card Monty. People were drawn to those games because they looked so easy to win. Little did they know that the games were designed to make sure they almost always lost. Smith kept company with exceptionally talented confidence men. Each of them had devised a unique way of fleecing their marks. But they were forced to live the lives of drifters, moving from one town to the next to avoid alerting the police. Jefferson Smith found a way to change the dynamic.

Smith had stumbled onto a simple truth. If the swindlers worked together, they would be harder to stop. He was a natural leader, and he convinced others to unite behind him. Smith created a fund by pooling all their resources. When a member of the group was in need of legal representation, the money was used to pay the fees of the best lawyers. When a man was caught red-handed, the money was used to bribe the police. And it worked. It was difficult to keep Smith's men behind bars. It's been said that Smith's cons reached the heights of infamy in Fort Worth.

So much so that after just one year in town, a new law was enacted specifically to curtail his activities. With that kind of unwanted attention, Smith decided it was best to move on. He headed west to Denver, where he would devise the con that earned him his nickname. Smith reached Denver, Colorado in 1879, and the city was bustling with life. A new network of railroads brought hordes of people to the city every day. Many were filled with excitement and hopes and dreams for the future and their new lives in the West, and that made them perfect marks for unscrupulous swindlers. Denver was a city of opportunity for people of all kinds, which certainly included the ones who were willing to sucker you out of your money. Denver was the place where

the legendary Soapy Smith came into his own. It started on a busy street corner in the heart of the city. Smith found a good spot and set down his suitcase. He opened the bag and began creating his display for the day's trade. A passerby asked what he was selling. Smith reached into the bag and pulled out a bar of soap with each hand. Smith loudly proclaimed that he was selling the finest soap in the land. He placed a stand on the street corner and began stacking bars for a display. While he worked, he preached about the qualities of the soap. This was no ordinary soap. It made users feel cleaner and better than they

ever had before. As he spoke, a few more curious people gathered around the stand. And now, Smith started the real show. Fancy soap was one thing. People with disposable income might buy a bar of soap just to try it, but fancy soap that contained cash prizes would lure anyone with money in their pockets. Smith took a bundle of cash from the suitcase. He peeled a dollar bill out of the wad and wrapped it around one of the bars of soap in the display He wrapped bars with ones fives and ten dollar bills until the bundle of cash was nearly gone Only a single one hundred dollar bill remained By that point the gathering of curious onlookers had grown to a crowd and they say, nothing attracts a crowd like a crowd.

The spectators watched wide-eyed as Smith wrapped the $100 bill around a bar of soap and set it down on the display stand. Then he wrapped all the bars of soap with brown paper. When he was done, he mixed up all the bars so that no one knew which ones contained cash prizes and which ones didn't. Finally, Smith declared that he would sell each bar of soap for one dollar. Almost immediately, a stout man shouted that he would take one. Smith handed the man one of the wrapped bars as the man gave Smith a dollar bill. When the man walked back toward the crowd, he cried out in excitement. He waved a five-dollar bill above his head for the crowd to see, and that started the flood of sales.

Nearly every person in the crowd clamored for Smith's attention. They all wanted to try their luck, and Smith obliged each one of them. Most looked down at their unwrapped packages with disappointment. All they had was an ordinary bar of soap, worth much less than the dollar they had paid for it. Then, a thin, wiry man at the front of the crowd exclaimed that he had won a dollar. He was delighted and excitedly chattered to the people around him. Many from the crowd found themselves buying a second bar of soap. After the burst of activity passed, very few bars remained on the display stand. Smith held up his hands. He said he had a piece of good news for the crowd. The soap with the $100 bill had not been bought. Smith graciously told them that everyone must have a fair chance to win

it. So, he was going to auction the remaining bars of soap. People in the crowd started shouting out bids, and the remaining bars started selling for higher and higher prices. But to the disappointment of future audiences of this story, there is no record of what happened to the bar that was wrapped with the $100 bill. More than likely someone won it, and Smith still came out ahead in his profits. If all the bars had sold and no one had won the $100 prize, there would have been a rebellion, and Smith's career in Denver wouldn't have lasted long. Once all the bars of soap had been sold, Smith packed up his display and walked away with a full wallet. After turning off the main street, Smith ducked into a small saloon. He stood at the bar and waited. A few minutes later, the stout man who had won the

$5 prize and the thin, wiry man who had won the $1 prize walked in. Smith greeted them cheerfully. Soon the three men were chuckling over glasses of beer. The con had worked like a charm. The two men were actors whom Smith had planted in the crowd to give the onlookers the confidence to buy the soap. Or in the parlance of con artists, the two men were shills. A shill was someone who appeared innocent but was actually working with the con artist. Day after day, Smith and his shills worked their game on street corners around Denver. And that was how Smith earned the nickname

Soapy Smith. Soapy Smith's gang of collaborators grew, and they became well-known throughout Denver's underworld. And as their numbers and their schemes expanded, locals, government officials, and members of law enforcement became acutely aware of their activities. Soapy made sure not to swindle the good townspeople out of their money. His marks were outsiders, the hapless travelers who found themselves passing through Denver. Soapy donated generously to local charities and churches to make sure he stayed in good standing with residents. As for the government, every conman worth his salt knew that as long as the human desire for money was alive and well, they would never go out of business. Soapy realized this was also true of government officials. He never found a sticky situation that he couldn't bribe his way out of. By 1889, Soapy Smith was so tight with Mayor Wolf Londoner

and Police Chief Thomas Farley that newspapers started using a sarcastic name for the trio. Papers called them the Firm of Londoner Farley and Smith. As a podcast network, our first priority has always been audio and the stories we're able to share with you. But we also sell merch, and organizing that was made both possible and easy with Shopify. Shopify is the global commerce platform that helps you sell and grow at every stage of your business. From the launch your online shop stage all the way to the did we just hit a million orders stage. Whether you're selling scented soap or offering outdoor outfits, Shopify helps you sell everywhere.

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force behind Allbirds, Rothy's, and Brooklinen, and millions of other entrepreneurs of every size across 175 countries. Because businesses that grow, grow with Shopify. Sign up for a $1 per month trial period at shopify.com slash realm, all lowercase. Go to shopify.com slash r-e-a-l-m now to grow your business, no matter what stage you're in. Shopify.com slash realm. In the 1890s, Denver's economy took a turn for the worse. Mass unemployment was the bleak reality for the city's growing middle class. The irate citizens were quick to tire of conmen who drained Denver of its meager reserves.

David Waite, who was elected governor of Colorado in 1893, promised to get rid of the swindlers. Governor Waite was a man of action. promised to get rid of the swindlers. Governor Waite was a man of action. His infamous nickname, Bloody Bridles, was born from a speech where he called upon workers to stand up for their rights. Many journalists interpreted it as a call to violence. Governor Waite set his sights on the city of Denver. Cleaning it up would be a fine example of his power.

But Waite soon realized that city officials were in league with the conmen. As the winter of 1894 crept into spring, he decided to purge the system from within. He started with the seat of power in Denver, City Hall. In March, Denver's charter was amended to grant the governor control over two seats on the city's police and fire board. A place on those boards was an influential position that was coveted by lots of officials. At first, the technical change went unnoticed. Then Governor Waite tried to remove two corrupt officials from the board.

Angered by his nerve, the officials refused to vacate their seats in a very literal way. They holed up in City Hall. Governor Waite was incensed. He threatened to send the state militia to remove the officials by force. Denver's corrupt bureaucrats were in a state of frenzy. The dishonest officials appealed to all their supporters to defend City Hall. Soapy Smith and his band of merry men was one of the first calls. Soapy agreed because he knew that his career in Denver was at stake. After being sworn in as a special deputy, he got to work. Armed with homemade bombs, Soapy and his men positioned themselves in the upper floors of the central tower of City Hall. The lower floors were filled with policemen, sheriffs, and firemen, their rifles at the ready.

City Hall was an arsenal of firepower and men with their fingers on the trigger. Spectators watched spellbound as the state militia marched into Denver with loaded cannons. The soldiers occupied the square in front of City Hall. Their cannons were pointed at the building, and they waited for the order to open fire. Tensions reached an all-time high. Denver's citizens flooded the streets to watch the fight, but the command to fire never came. Governor Waite ordered the streets to watch the fight, but the command to fire never came. Governor Waite ordered the troops to stand down. Inside City Hall, cries of celebration erupted. Soapy and his men gladly joined in the merrymaking. The bloodless face-off had come to

an abrupt end. But the victory was short-lived. The Colorado Supreme Court intervened, and Governor Waite got his way. Over the next year, Denver cracked down on corruption and gambling. Soapy's empire started to crumble. The last straw was when Soapy Smith and his brother were involved in a violent skirmish. With the law on his heels, Soapy decided to leave Denver. And in the late 1890s, if you wanted to follow the money, the place to be was Alaska. In August 1896, miners discovered gold in one of the most remote locations in North America. As the news spread, the tiny village of Skagway, in what would become the state of Alaska, became a bustling hub of minersagway, in what would become the state of Alaska,

became a bustling hub of miners, merchants, and con artists. Gold was discovered near the Klondike River in Canada's Yukon Territory on August 16, 1896. A severe winter slowed the spread of news to America. It wasn't until 1897 that ships laden with gold sailed into the ports of San Francisco and Seattle. Lured by the thrill of quick riches, prospectors rushed to the gold fields. Men clamored for a place on ships sailing to the Alaskan port towns, from which the trails led to the rumored riches in Canada. As ships dropped off thousands of men at their shores, the port towns became hotbeds of activity. Soapy Smith followed the gold and the frenzied rush of prospectors to the port town of Skagway.

Skagway was one of two towns on the coast that were closest to the gold fields and had harbors that were big enough to support ships. As an old-timer aptly put it, Skagway was like an anthill that had been stirred up by a stick-wielding child. Soapy Smith formed a new crew of associates in Skagway, though there seems to be some indication that a few of his friends from Denver followed him up north. First, Smith bribed the Deputy U.S. Marshal. Then, in the spring of 1898, Soapy set up a saloon from which he conducted business. It was called Jeff Smith's Parlor, though many referred to it as Skagway's real city hall. Soapy and his men carried out several notorious scams from the saloon, but none were more amusing than the telegraph office con.

Reaching Skagway by ship in the 1890s was a risky affair. Aboard the overcrowded vessels that sailed across the Pacific Ocean, the journey was long and uncomfortable. News of ships getting lost was not uncommon. The men who reached Skagway were anxious to tell their families that they were safe. The quick-witted Soapy Smith found a way for them to do just that, or a way for them to think they were doing just that. There was a flurry of activity at the port when a ship dropped fresh-faced prospectors to Skagway. Amidst the chaos, there stood Soapy Smith wearing a kind smile on his face. He asked a nervous-looking young man if he wanted to send a message to his family.

Soapy was sure they were worried sick about the young man. At the telegraph office, it cost just $5 to send a message anywhere in the world. The young man's face lit up. As Soapy led him to the town's so-called telegraph office, he asked the young man about himself. Was he traveling alone? Which trail was he going to take? Did he have enough money to make it through the winter? The young man answered all the questions eagerly. He was grateful to have found someone

who cared about him in this foreign place. At the telegraph office, Soapy took out a sharpened pencil and a small notepad. He carefully wrote down the young man's message. Soapy took out a sharpened pencil and a small notepad. He carefully wrote down the young man's message. Soapy read the heartfelt message back to the sender. He told the young man that he didn't want to miss a single word. Soapy collected his fee and went into the back of the office to send the message. While Soapy was out of sight and the young man waited alone, one of Soapy's cronies walked in and asked the young man if he wanted to join a friendly game of poker in the saloon. After turning down the offer a few times, the young man relented. One game quickly turned into many more. Later, as the young man walked out of Jeff Smith's parlor, he realized he had spent a lot of money, and he didn't know he had actually been suckered twice.

The young man's message never reached his family, nor did the messages of hundreds of other prospectors, because, of course, Soapy Smith was not running a legitimate telegraph office. There was no telegraph office in Skagway because there was no telegraph. It would be another two years before telegraph construction began in the Alaska and Yukon regions, and it wouldn't finish until 1906. For the young miners, Soapy's cons were unfortunate incidents on their way to the gold fields. They cut their losses and moved on. But full-time residents of Skagway grew tired of the rampant crime in their town. It was useless to go to law enforcement because Soapy had bribed them.

So the locals decided to take action themselves. Townsfolk established a vigilance group called the Committee of 101. Frank Reed was a member of the committee and one of the most outspoken critics of Soapy Smith. And Reed and Smith were about to face off on a wharf in Skagway. On February 15, 1898, an American Navy ship called the USS Maine sank off the coast of Cuba. It heralded the start of the Spanish-American War, as cries of, Remember the Maine! To hell with Spain! echoed across the country.

Soapy Smith banded his men together to form a volunteer army in Skagway. Smith banded his men together to form a volunteer army in Skagway. In a letter to the President of the United States, Smith offered his army's services to defend the nation. Soon, the American government granted Soapy's army official status. He proudly hung the confirmation up in his saloon for all to see. But Soapy's sudden display of patriotism had more to do with his own interests than those of America. He already had the lawmen in his pocket, and now, at least on paper, he had the army on his side. On July 4, 1898, Soapy's volunteers paraded through the streets of Skagway. Soapy was at the helm, followed by a caged, bald eagle that rode on a red, white, and blue wagon. Soapy Smith was probably at the height of his power in Skagway,

but it would only last a few more days. The committee of 101 bitterly watched as Soapy led his men in the parade. They shook their heads in disbelief. Skagway's biggest criminal was being celebrated as a hero. Four days later, they held a meeting to decide what to do about Soapy Smith. That same month, Soapy Smith's gang had brazenly robbed a miner named John Stewart. Stewart had come down to Skagway from the gold fields with $3,000 worth of gold. Soapy's cronies convinced Stewart to put it in a safe at a local bank. On the way to the bank, they ran into two more members of the gang. Stewart was roped into a game of three-card Monty. Predictably, he lost. When the time came for Stewart to pay his losses, he refused. He knew he had been swindled. Then, Soapy's men grabbed the gold from Stewart and

disappeared. Stewart complained to the Deputy U.S. Marshal, who did nothing because he was on Soapy's payroll. Word of the robbery spread through Skagway, and the Committee of 101 came to Stewart's aid. They demanded that Soapy return the gold. Soapy refused. He said Stewart had lost the money fair and square. More of Soapy's enemies joined the fray, and the movement against the Soapy Smith gang intensified. On the evening of July 8th, a group of vigilantes met at a warehouse on a wharf to discuss the matter. Soapy learned of the meeting, and he was already in a combustible state. He was riled up from a long day of arguments and threats, and he'd been drinking all afternoon. Soapy grabbed his rifle, proclaimed he would put an end to the matter once and for all, and set out for the wharf.

He marched down the wharf with his heavy boots thudding on the wooden planks. He heard loud voices resounding from the warehouse. Daylight was almost gone, and through the darkness, he could see the outlines of four men standing in his way. He strode past three of the guards and stopped short in front of the fourth. It was his arch enemy, Frank Reed. According to the legend, Reed and Smith started arguing. Soapy lifted the barrel of his rifle to hit Reed. Reed grabbed the barrel and pushed it away. As the two men grappled for the rifle, Reed pulled out a pistol. Soapy said,

My God, don't shoot. But it was too late. Reed pulled the trigger. At the same moment, Soapy jerked his rifle away and fired. Both men fell to the ground. Soapy was dead, and Reed was fatally wounded. He would die 12 days later. But in the years since the confrontation on the wharf, more than a few historians have come to believe that the bullet that killed Soapy Smith was fired by a man named Jesse Murphy. Murphy was one of the other guards

outside the warehouse that night. According to witness accounts, Smith and Reed exchanged gunfire. According to witness accounts, Smith and Reed exchanged gunfire. Reed fell to the ground with his wound, and Murphy rushed into the fray. He wrestled the rifle away from Soapy and shot him dead with a bullet to the chest. Historians say the credit for Soapy Smith's death is given to Reed for political reasons. And from that night onward, the stories of the two men were irrevocably entangled. Soapy Smith and Frank Reed were both buried in the Skagway Cemetery, just a short distance from each other.

Next time on Legends of the Old West, it's the story of the king of riverboat gamblers, George Duvall. During a life spent gambling on steamers and railroads, George had quite a few close calls. That's next week on Legends of the Old West. Members of our Black Barrel Plus program don't have to wait week to week to receive new episodes. They receive the entire season to binge all at once with no commercials. And they also receive exclusive bonus episodes. Sign up now through the link in the show notes or on our website, blackbarrelmedia.com.

Memberships begin at just $5 per month. This series was researched and written by Rhea Perowit. Original music by Rob Valliere. Copy editing by me, Chris Wimmer, and I'm your host and producer. If you enjoyed the show, please leave us a rating and a review on Apple Podcasts or wherever you're listening. Check out our website, blackbarrelmedia.com, Podcasts or wherever you're listening. Check out our website, blackbarrelmedia.com, for more details and join us on social media. We're at Old West Podcast on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter. And all of our episodes are available on YouTube. Just search for Legends of the Old West Podcast. Thanks for listening.