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Charles Earl Boles (1829–1917?), alias Black Bart, was a poet and American Old West outlaw. He was also known as Charles E. Bolles and C.E. Bolton. Black Bart was one of the more notorious stagecoach robbers to operate in and around Northern California and southern Oregon during the 1870s and 1880s. The fame he received for his numerous daring thefts is rivaled only by his reputation for style and sophistication.
Early life It is believed that Black Bart was born Charles Earl Boles at Great Yarmouth, in the county of Norfolk, England in 1829. At the age of two, he moved with his parents to Jefferson County in upstate New York, where his father farmed their homestead of nearly 100 acres (0.4 km²). In late 1849 Charles Boles and a cousin took part in the California Gold Rush. They began mining in the North Fork of the American River in California. His brother Robert joined them in 1852, but died in San Francisco. Boles then returned east and married Mary Elizabeth Johnson in 1854. By 1860, they made their home in Decatur, Illinois. In 1862, however, Boles decided to go to war. The Civil War was then in progress, and Boles enlisted at Decatur as a private in Company B, 116th Illinois Regiment on August 13, 1862. He proved to be a good soldier, rising to the rank of 1st sergeant within a year. He took part in numerous battles and campaigns, including Vicksburg (where he was seriously wounded) and Sherman's March to the Sea. On June 7, 1865 he was discharged at Washington, D. C. and returned home to Illinois. He had received brevet (honorary) commissions as both 2nd Lieutenant and 1st Lieutenant. After the long years of war, however, a quiet life of farming held little appeal to Boles and he yearned for adventure. By 1867, he was prospecting again in Idaho and Montana. Little is known of him during this time, but in an August 1871 letter to his wife he mentioned an unpleasant encounter with some Wells, Fargo & Company employees and vowed to pay them back. He then stopped writing, and after a time his wife assumed he was dead. Whatever it was that happened in Montana, it clearly changed Boles outlook on life. He reemerged in official documents in July 1875, when he robbed his first stagecoach in Calaveras County. What made the crime unusual was the politeness and good manners of the outlaw. He spoke with a deep and resonant tone, and told the stage driver, "Please throw down the box." Boles was always courteous and used no foul language. He covered his body in sacks and linen to hide his clothing and appearance. These distinguished features became his trademarks. Boles, like many of his contemporaries, read "dime novel" style serial adventure stories which appeared in local newspapers. In the early 1870s, the Sacramento Union ran such a serial called The Case of Summerfield, by Caxton (a pseudonym of William Henry Rhodes). In the story, the villain dressed in black, had long unruly black hair, a large black beard and wild grey eyes. The villain would rob Wells Fargo stagecoaches and brought great fear into those who were unlucky enough to cross him. The character's name was Black Bart, and Boles decided to adopt this individual's identity. A notorious bandit Boles, as Black Bart, robbed numerous Wells Fargo stagecoaches across northern California between 1875 and 1883, including a number of robberies along the historic Siskiyou Trail betwen California and Oregon. He eventually began to leave poems at the sites of his crimes as his signature. Black Bart was very successful and made off with thousands of dollars a year. During his last robbery in 1883, Black Bart was shot and forced to flee the scene. He left behind several personal items, including a pair of eyeglasses, food, and a handkerchief with a laundry mark. Wells Fargo detectives James Hume and Henry Nicholson Morse began searching every laundry in San Francisco for the one that used the mark. After questioning nearly 90 laundry operators, they finally traced the mark to the Ferguson & Bigg's California Laundry on Bush Street. From there they were able to trace the handkerchief to a man going by the name of C.E. Bolton who lived in a modest boarding house. Bolton described himself as a "mining engineer" and made frequent "business trips" which happened to coincide with the Wells Fargo robberies. After initially denying he was Black Bart, he eventually admitted that he had robbed several Wells Fargo stages, but confessed only to the crimes committed before 1879. It is widely believed that Bolles mistakenly believed that the statute of limitations had expired on these robberies. When booked, he gave his name as T.Z. Spalding. When the police examined his possessions they found a Bible, a gift from his wife, inscribed with his real name. In the police report after his capture, it stated that Black Bart was "a person of great endurance. Exhibited genuine wit under most trying circumstances, and was extremely proper and polite in behavior. Eschews profanity." Wells Fargo pressed charges only on the final robbery. He was convicted and sentenced to six years in San Quentin Prison, but his stay was shortened to four years for good behavior. When Boles was released in January 1888, his health had clearly deteriorated due to his time in prison. He had visibly aged, his eyesight was failing and he had gone deaf in one ear. Reporters swarmed around him when he was released. They asked if he were going to rob anymore stagecoaches. "No gentlemen," he smilingly replied, "I'm through with crime." Another reporter asked if he would write more poetry. He laughed, "Now didn't you hear me say that I am through with crime?" Disappearance Black Bart's end is more in keeping with the way the romantics of his day would have had it. He disappeared without a trace shortly after his release from prison. His San Francisco boarding house room was found vacated in February 1888 and the outlaw was never seen again. On November 14, 1888 another Wells Fargo stage was robbed by a masked highwayman. The lone bandit left a verse that read: So here I've stood while wind and rain Have set the trees a-sobbin And risked my life for that damned box, That wasn't worth the robbin Detective Hume was called to examine the note. After comparing it with the handwriting of genuine Black Bart poetry from the past, he declared the new holdup was the work of a copycat criminal. Rumors began to swirl that Wells Fargo had paid off the aging bandit and sent him away to keep him from robbing their stages. Wells Fargo always denied these rumors. Although some stories report he lived quietly in New York City the rest of his life and died there in 1917, others prefer to believe the unlikely tale that the aging poet bandit had gone to the wilds of Montana or perhaps Nevada for another try at making a fortune. Verses "I've labored long and hard for bread, For honor and for riches, But on my corns too long you've tred You fine-haired sons of bitches." - Black Bart, 1877 List of crimes See also | ||||||||
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