Pearl Hart was a Canadian-born outlaw of the American Old West. She committed one of the last recorded stagecoach robberies in the United States, and her crime gained notoriety primarily because of her gender. Many details of Hart's life are uncertain, with available reports being varied and often contradictory.
She committed one of the last recorded stagecoach robberies in the United States
Pearl Hart (November 13, 1876 - December 28, 1955) was born as Pearl Taylor in the Canadian village of Lindsay, Ontario. She was an outlaw of the American Old West who committed one of the last recorded stagecoach robberies in the United States; her crime gained notoriety primarily because of her gender. Many details of Hart's life are uncertain with available reports being varied and often contradictory.
After leaving prison, Hart largely disappeared from public view. She had a short-lived show where she re-enacted her crime and then spoke about the horrors of Yuma Territorial Prison. Following this she worked, under an alias, as part of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show. In 1904, Hart was running a cigar store in Kansas City when she was arrested for receiving stolen property. She was acquitted of the charge.
Accounts of Hart's later life are sketchy and contradictory. One common story has her returning to the jail in Tucson 25 years after her imprisonment to visit the jail cell that once held her. Likewise, a census taker in 1940 claimed to have discovered Hart living in Arizona under a different name. Folklore from Gila County claims that Hart returned to Globe and lived there peacefully until her death on December 30, 1955. Competing claims place her death as late as 1960.
Daily Alta, California
San Francisco: Wednesday, November 14, 1883
"BLACK BART."
The Noted Stage Robber Captured at Last.
A POETICAL HIGHWAYMAN.
After Stopping Stages for Six Years, the Robber is Arrested at His Room in This City—Manner of the Arrest.
"Black Bart," the famous lone highwayman, the one hero of twenty-seven stage robberies, a person whose poetical effusions have been copied by the Press all over the country, and who has led innumerable Sheriffs and country Constables a wild chase for six years, was captured in this city, at 7 o'clock last Monday evening, by James B. Hume, the special detective of Wells, Fargo & Co., who was assisted by Captain A. P. Stone of the regular police and Harry Morse. In the incarceration of this audacious highwayman the express company and the Postal Department of the United States have rid themselves of one who has been a terror to stage-drivers and passengers and a most expensive hamper to the safe delivery of valuables and treasure consigned to Wells, Fargo & Co. for delivery from one town to another.
HIS INITIAL ROBBERY.
On the 8d day of August, 1877, Black Bart introduced himself to the express company by stepping out on the road in front of the stage, then winding its way from Fort Ross to Russian river, and with a double-barrelled shotgun, demanding that the treasure box and mail bags be thrown to him.
The suddenness with which he appeared, like an evil spirit, upon the lonely desolate road, and his calm demeanor, tempered and supported, so to speak, by his trusty gun, commanded the respect and obedience of all who beheld him. The box, followed quickly by the mail bags, slid from the driver's hands in a twinkling; the driver, at a sign from the man, whipped up his team and disappeared in the dust of the road, leaving the stranger to rifle the box of about $300 in coin, a check for $305 52 drawn on the Grangers' Bank in this city in favor of Fisk Bros., and relieve any letters which contained coin of their contents. Sitting himself down, the robber quietly wrote the following, preceded by a verse of vulgar rhyme, upon a way bill, putting it back in the battered box for the driver to read on his return trip:
Driver, give my respects to our friend, the other driver; but I really had a notion to hang my old disguise hat on his weather eye. Respectfully, B. B.
The Express Company offered a liberal reward for the robber, and, at the end of their circular, they say it was "believed that he went to the town of Guerneville about daylight next morning."
HIS NEXT APPEARANCE.
On the 25th of July, 1878, nearly one year after the above robbery, the stage from Quincy to Oroville was stopped by one man, and the Express Company's box robbed of $379 in coin, a diamond ring worth $200, and a silver watch. The mail was also robbed. On the return of the stage the next day, another doggerel verse was found just in the same manner as in the case quoted.
When the second robbery was made known to them, the officers of the company made strenuous efforts to reach the man, but failed, and off and on the news reached them of one robbery after another being committed by one mane, whose disguise no one could detect, and whose nerve no one dared to test.
A BIG HAUL.
On Saturday morning, the 3d of this month, the stage from Sonora to Milton, California, was stopped by one man, when it reached the top of the hill, about three miles east of Copperopolis, a town 64 miles southeast from Sacramento, and 27 miles east by north from Stockton, and Walls, Fargo & Co's box was robbed of $4,700 in treasure. Before the stage had arrived within a half a mile of him, Black Bart, who was watching the movements of the stage through a pair of glasses, saw a boy jump from the box, rifle in hand, and make a circuit of a neighboring hill. When the stage arrived, he threw himself in the road, and in a sitting posture, and protected by the bodies of the lead horses from any surprise shot, he ordered the box and mail bags thrown off the stage. Then he demanded an explanation of the boy’s actions. The driver informed him that the lad was a passenger, and had got off to look for some lost cattle. Bart, not liking the looks of matters, hastily gathered up his plunder and started for the brush. Before he had gone 100 yards the boy appeared and the driver, taking his rifle, fired at the retreating figure of the robber. Bart, ever polite and courteous, simply glanced behind him, smiled at the driver, continued his way and was soon lost to view.
The next morning J. L. Thacker, an officer of the Express Company, and an assistant searched around a camp fire close to where the stage was stopped and found a silk handkerchief, a cuff bearing a laundry mark and a peculiar-looking hat. The news of this last robbery spread through Calaveras county and into the surrounding towns almost as quick as it could be telegraphed to headquarters. Constables, Sheriffs and Marshals expressed their views on the situation, and Captain Hume immediately organized the chase. In the meantime, Black Bart wandered
THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS
And valleys, only stopping at some out-of-the-way cabin to get a bite to eat, and never resting an hour in places where he had any suspicion that a human being lived. Men and women reported that they saw him at different intervals, and each gave the best description they could of him. Some five or six days ago four or five Sheriffs and Constables arrived, and, taking up lodgings in out-of-the-way places, loafed around the Russ House under fictitious names, patiently waiting for Black Bart to walk in the Montgomery street entrance and be recognized.
Russ House in San Francisco, c. 1870 [photo credit Pacific Coast Architecture Database]
Last Saturday a man signing himself as C. E. Bolton sent a despatch from the interior to the landlady of the lodging-house at 37 Second street, requesting that a room be reserved for him. That same afternoon Mr. Bolton arrived, and was assigned to room 40. He had his trunks, which had been stored in the baggage-room of the house, brought up. Donning a bright, new suit of clothes, fastening
A BLAZING DIAMOND
Stud to his immaculate shirt front, and putting an equally large and valuable diamond on his small finger, he made his way to the New York Bakery on Kearny street and took his dinner. The proprietor recognized in Mr. Bolton an old customer and acquaintance, and after a short conversation regarding the decline of stocks and the prospects of the farmers for the next year, the gentleman took his seat in front of a mirror, passing, on his way to the table, one of the detectives on Captain Lees’ staff to whom he passed the compliments of the season. The next morning he went through the same programme, varying it only by stopping at the counter and talking to Mr. Pike for two hours on the latest records made by the fast horses and the chances of Muldoon throwing Whistler at their next meeting.
During all this time Captain Hume, aided by other officers, were searching for the laundry office at which the mark was put on Black Bart’s cuff. Monday afternoon it was found on Bush street, just below Emerson’s Theatre. When questioned as to who owned such a number the person in charge replied that it was C. E. Bolton, who had had his washing done there for the past six months, at irregular intervals. He always brought his little bundle of soiled linen and at the proper time came for it. An hour’s talk with the laundry agent elicited the information that Mr. Bolton answered the description of Black Bart, even to the two upper and the one lower front tooth being missing.
CAPTURE OF THE ROBBER.
Monday evening came; the clock struck 7; the Sheriff from the interior and the country constables still guarded the door of the Russ House and looked wise. Captain Stone, Captain Hume, Henry Morse and a fourth party took a hack up town and were drove to No. 37, Second street. The landlady thought she heard a great noise in room 40, as if some one was throwing the furniture around. She left her apartments to inquire into the matter, but was met on the stairs by Mr. Bolton, who, in tremulous voice, the perspiration running down his furrowed cheeks, informed her that the four gentlemen by his side, in front and behind him. were friends of his, who had come to see him on important business. The same hack took the party to the office of Captain Hume, where Mr. Bolton was accused of being Black Bart. He was shown that his captors had positive proof of his identity. Captain Hume explaining that be had been tracking him for six years, and had in the last three years got a full and minute description of the lone highwayman; he rehearsed the story of the lost cuff and the silk handkerchief, gave the history of the laundry mark, and suddenly cast the peculiar looking hat at his feet, as if to overwhelm him with evidence, but to all this Mr. Bolton was impervious; he smiled in a polite way, denied everything and then passed the night in the tanks at the City Prison.
OFF FOR STOCKTON.
The next morning, (yesterday) he, Captain Stone and Harry Morse, took the train for Stockton, where an old hunter lives, who can identify the robber in the person of Mr. Bolton, if such Is the case.
So quickly was Bolton harried off, that an Alta reporter could find no one who would willingly give any information of the capture. The officers he saw gave the number of the house where he roomed, but further than this they objected, “for the reason, sir, you know, we are not sure that we have the man.” At No. 37 Second street, the landlady, a most affable and pleasing lady, was informed of the trouble last evening. '"Oh, my!" she exclaimed “that man a stage robber! Who would have thought it? Why, he told me that he was a mining man, and has been living in this town for something like five years." At this juncture the reporter read the description of Black Bart to her, he being satisfied that Bolton and Bart were the same, and to all the little details, such an the color of the eyes, the missing front teeth, the prominent cheek bones, the gray hair, the high forehead, the long, slender hands, and affable and courteous manner in which he treated everybody, the lady answered "yes" a dozen times and then suddenly relapsed into silences, as if she had been the means of his capture and responsible for his sentence to the State Prison.
BOLTON’S PECULIARITIES.
Black Bart robbed his first stage in 1877, and during long and short intervals up to the 3d of this month one man robbed twenty-seven stages. During this period C. L. Bolton has made frequent trips to this city, always remaining throughout the Winter and going into the country during the Summer and Autumn. He always took his meals at the New York Bakery, within a stone's throw of the old City Hall, and on more than one occasion would eat at the same table with a detective, preferring, so it seemed, their company to any other of those who happened to be there. But this does not reflect at all upon the police, as some will imagine, for Bolton in San Francisco wan very different from Black Bart on the road. In the occupation of stage robbing he was always masked with a flour sack,, which covered his face and shoulders, and clothed in an old long linen duster which went to his knees, and a quantity of brown, dirty burlaps which came to his boots. In their circulars Wells, Fargo & Co. give the following brief description of his manner in stopping a stage:
He is always armed with a double-barreled shotgun, which he unbreeches and rolls in his blankets as soon as he is safe from immediate pursuit; always brings an old axe to the scene of robbery, which he uses to open the box and leaves in vicinity of robbery. In opening the mail sacks, he cuts them with a sharp knife, thus, T on top of the sack, near the lock. He has never manifested any viciousness and there is reason to believe that he is averse to taking human life. He is polite to all passengers, and especially so to ladies. He comes and goes from the scene of robbery on foot; seems to be a thorough mountaineer and a good walker, as he sometimes covers long distances in a day—getting food from houses in out-of-the-way places, but has never been known to remain overnight in a house that is occupied; never allows himself to be seen in the vicinity of robbery, and never shows up for food until twelve or fifteen miles away. The only baggage visible when travelling is a roll of blankets, generally tied with bale rope at the ends, although at one time he had a long valise. Four times he has attacked two lines of stages terminating at the same point, with but a day or two interval.
Captain Hume claims that the company have lost by his depredations but $2,700, in addition to the $4,700 he took on the 3d. If this be the case then many a stage passenger can tell a wonderful tale of the loss of a well-filled purse and a heavy belt, for Mr. Bolton while in this city lived in luxury and never was known to perform a day's work.
Daily Alta California, San Francisco, California, United States
Volume 34, Number 11841, 23 September 1882
Shasta County's Clever and Successful Road Agent.
Chico Record.
Black Bart, Shasta county's notorious highwayman, asks all the people he stops to contribute to an orphan asylum, and there is something so forbidding in his appearance that all the travellers shell out without asking where the asylum is, or how much it needs. The rascal is described as being very "gentlemanly," never forgetting to raise his hat to ladies, and seldom asking them for donations. But he is unmerciful to men, and they are never out of range of his deadly gun. Some of those days, though, Black Bart, the "P O 8 [poet] of the Sierras," as he styles himself, will be shot all full of holes, like like a pepper-box lid, and he won't have any daisies planted over his little mound, either.
J.B. Hume, the express company's detective, has gone to Redding to give chase to the highwayman. Black Bart despises Hume, but never fails to send that gentleman his regards after committing a robbery. The upcountry papers are of the opinion that Black Bart is some man living in the neighborhood of Bass Hill, where nearly all his robberies are committed, and they think that if he is ever captured he will turn out to be some well known man. He is a smart fellow, and has written some clever verses, forwarding them through the mails to different papers up north. After committing a highwayman's act he never leaves any traces whereby he can be identified. He very politely asks that the treasure-box be thrown from the stage, and then urges the necessity at the muzzle of his gun, of the stage-driver's moving on, "very quietly sir, if you please."
A few weeks ago a ranch hand became hard up and undertook to personate this notorious Bart. He stopped a stage, had the box tossed out and then went through it. He went into Redding, got drunk, and while talking gave himself completely away. A constable overhead his remarks, followed him to his hiding place and found his mask and other traps and arrested him. He is now serving his State at San Quentin. Black Bart is still at large, with little possibility of ever being brought to justice.
HAS TRACKED CRIMINALS FOR OVER A QUARTER OF A CENTURY
The San Francisco Call, San Francisco, California, United States
Sunday, October 23, 1898
...
Black Bart, that accomplished road agent of most original methods, was finally cornered, more through the clever work of Tom Cunningham than any other man. Black Bart was a wonderful pedestrian. He would reach Stockton from San Francisco on the morning boat and by nightfall would have walked forty miles into the mountains. The next day the poetical robber would turn his usual trick. Old-timers will recall with what frequency the stages were robbed. Cunningham was always on the ground as soon as possible to look for some evidence. His staying qualities were finally rewarded. Arriving at the point where the stage had last been stopped he examined the ground closely. Suddenly he reached down and picked up a cuff. That find marked the end of Bart's career. Cunningham examined the cuff closely and the officers who were with him eagerly awaited to see what he would say. Finally Cunningham exclaimed:
"At last we have a clew," and directed the officers' attention to the mark
"FX07"
On the border. The cuff was taken to San Francisco and after a long search similar marks were found on other linen in a laundry. Bart was located and then inveigled into a room where the officers were waiting. He was under the impression that he was going to negotiate the sale of a mine. As quick as his eyes fell on his expected purchasers, he merely threw up his hands and exclaimed:
"Gentlemen, I pass."
That was the end of his clever days of stage robbing, and it was brought about by the handkerchief which Cunningham found.
