The Wichita Falls Bank Robbery of 1896
Correspondence in the file begins in May 1978 with an acknowledgement from Truett Latimer, signed by Anice Read, that the application for a marker for a robbery was accepted and the funds deposited. As in letters past, Latimer's letter specifies that the deposit does not mean the marker has been accepted by the committee. I like the way he writes:
"This letter is to advise you that the application will first be reviewed and evaluated by THC staff. Should additional information be needed, you will be contacted. Or, should the narrative need to be rewritten, the appropriate papers will be returned. As soon as any deficiencies, should they exist, are corrected, copies of the application and history will be sent to the members of the State Marker Committee who will pass on the topic's acceptability for marking."
Rarely today do we see this much attention to the proper placement of commas.
Oddly, the next letter, also from Latimer and signed by Read, requests Mrs. E. E. Clack, Wichita County Historical Commission chair, to review the marker inscription, and includes a post data note that says: "We will not be able to write the inscription for this marker until we have received the funds. Thank you."
Lifting my head away from my laptop, I look around the room at the Archives. JoAnn sits at her desk reading the local paper, looking for matters of interest to file. A clock ticks behind me, and Lita is looking at high school albums from decades ago. A quick question earns me a quick answer.
"Lita, is there a deposit sent for each marker?"
"Yes, a hundred dollars." The amount of $100 is sent these days. "No telling what it was back then," she said.
The marker, made of cast aluminum with Swedish steel effect (a popular choice for markers), was sent to the foundry and then in October, 1978, shipped to the County Court House to Judge Hank Anderson.
Finally, I reach the heart of the file, the part that tells the story behind the marker -- the details of the story that show why remembering an event has significance to those living today and in the future. Mrs. E E Clack -- Catherine -- provided copies of stories relating what occurred back in 1896 during and after the bank robbery.
In her note, Catherine Clack states that Albert Bigelow Paine's account of the story,
Captain Bill McDonald, Texas Ranger, Little & Ives Co., New York, 1909, pp. 199 - 213, does not concur with other people's versions "striving as he did to glorify his subject." Indeed, Louise Kelly in her compilation of the event writes, "Some of McDonald's story is ridiculous."
I did not correct grammatical and typographical errors that may have slipped in during the typing in the 1970s; I did correct misspellings, but some errors I corrected with hesitation. For instance, I assumed the writer meant "here," rather than "there" when referring to Wichita Falls. The story is nicely written and embellished with Morgan's wit and opinions. The images come from my research in Wikipedia.
FAMOUS BANK ROBBERY OF 1896
(The following account is taken verbatim from "The History of Wichita Falls," by the late Jonnie Morgan.)
The history of Wichita Falls would be incomplete without chronicling the bank robbery staged at the City National Bank inn 1896. At this time Frank Dorsey, cashier of the bank was killed by Kid Lewis and Foster Crawford. Everybody in the small town knew practically everyone else. Hence the feeling ran high with the incident occurred. The story is indelibly stamped on the minds of those who lived here at that time.
Crawford had worked on the Burnett Ranch. There he met Kid Lewis. They became members of the notorious Al Jennings band. Then they worked independently with their headquarters in Oklahoma. They had managed a piecemeal living by hold-ups and such like. But they decided to make a big haul and then lead an easy life for a while. That conclusion led to concentration on the City National Bank. Such specimens of humanity were possessed with a spirit of braggadocio. In accordance, they notified the bankers from time to time to beware. Upon repeated threats, the bank officials sent for ten Texas Rangers and Bill McDonald.
Captain William McDonald, Texas Ranger (1913).
They remained ten days. Deciding that their presence had brought about an abandonment of the marauder's plans, they left for Fort Worth at one P.M. on February 25. Lewis and Crawford who were at the station to see them off had spent the previous night in a dugout in the negro settlement. The negroes had heard the threats of these two and had spread the word to the whites. The warning was unheeded.
The Robbery
When the Rangers were off, the two bandits rode down the alley east of the St. James Hotel, on horseback. they dismounted and waited for the appointed hour, 2:30 P. M. Then they walked to the bank, located at that time of the corner of Seventh and Ohio. Crawford entered at the Seventh Street entrance, Lewis at the front. When Crawford cried our "Up, up" to the bookkeeper, J. P. Langford, and Langford failed to comprehend, he struck him over the head with his gun. The exploded bullet landed in the ceiling.
Lewis had covered the cashier and one of the directors, Dr. O.J. Kendall. Upon hearing Crawford's gun explosion, he opened fire on the Cashier. The bullet entered the base of the neck at the right shoulder. Another shot was aimed but it hit a hypodermic case instead. He fell to the floor and feigned death. Mr. Langford then made a dash for the door, but was halted by Lewis.
In the meantime, Crawford was trying to collect all the money he could find. he took four hundred sixty dollars and ten cents from the teller's cage. Finding that they could not open the vault and secure more funds, and realizing the danger of a gathering crowd, the two made their exit. At the entrance, J. D. Davis, unarmed, attempted to stop them, but they sped on and mounted their horses. One of the horses was shot from under its rider, who climbed immediately behind his comrade and made way to Holliday Creek Bridge. Luckily for them they met a fruit peddler and cut his horse from the wagon, mounted it and managed to cross the bridge less than a thousand feet from the pursuers.
The whole town was astir. Fearless Will Skeen, upon learning of the robbery set out with Marshall Davis to capture the bandits. Lewis and Crawford crossed the river near the Knott farm, jumping their horses down a fifteen foot bank. As their pursuers were still on this side of the river, they attacked two Bohemian farmers plowing in the field and exchanged horses. Upon arriving at the thicket in Thornberry Pasture, the robbers dismounted and attempted to escape through the underbrush. Meanwhile the posse grew, being replenished from time to time with people from the town and from the countryside.
Captain McDonald and his Rangers were notified of the event at Bellevue and took the Northbound train back to Wichita Falls. Before the close of the day they were at the scene of action. When Lewis and Crawford attempted to seize two horses in a wheat field, they were detected and surrounded in a thicket. They surrendered reluctantly, were handcuffed, and brought back to the Wichita Falls jail.
Because the angry mob threatened a lynching, the Rangers were kept on guard. The Captain left the town the next day and the mob carried out their threat. They gathered material for a bonfire at Seventh and Ohio. Frank Hardesty, the Deputy Sheriff, refused to allow them to enter the jail. While he was arguing, men were battering down the back door with a telephone pole. They rushed to the cells where Lewis and Crawford were, seized them, tied them with ropes, and dragged them out. With them in the center, the procession moved on down Sixth Street to Indiana and from Indiana up Seventh to Ohio and the bonfire. Boxes had been placed at a telephone pole [Blogger's note: Kay Szewczuk, pronounced chef's chuck, approximately, that in 1896 there were no telephones; therefore, it might have been a telegraph pole, instead.] in front of the bank for the two to stand on, and with rope around their necks, they suffered the taunts and abuses of the gathered crowd. The robbers cursed back at them. Lewis manifested much nerve and seemed to have no fear of his destiny. But Crawford begged for mercy. Getting none, he asked for whiskey.
Thus on February 27th, the two men were pulled up and died with their boots on. This was the only capital punishment ever assessed in Wichita County. But it was a death knell for any others who might attempt such."
The text came from the book by Jonnie Morgan. The History of Wichita Falls, p 87 - 90, published in 1931.
Subsequently, in 1957, the Wichita Falls Times published a story about the robbery. The story brought some sense of amusement by saying that in 1896 the editor of the Wichita Falls Times was at his desk not far away from the bank working on his editorial titled, "The Peaceful Wichita Valley." When he heard the gun shots, he thought they were an alarm for a fire; he jumped up and fired his gun out the window to assist in sounding the alarm. He then borrowed a horse and chased after the robbers.
Judge Edgar Scurry in RootsWeb, wc.rootsweb.ancestry.com/cgi-bin/igm.cgi?op=GET&db=rssmelley&id=108708 remembers the event. He was a lawyer who came from Giddings, Texas, after passing the bar. Saying in his story that he decided to settle in Wichita Falls because "it is a right lively little town" with a population of about 2,000 people, he was eventually elected county judge.
Please click on the title below to view the website of origin:
North Texas Genealogy
http://www.ntxga.com
I was born at Mission Valley, Victoria County, Texas, on November 21, 1857. I lived there until I was grown, then I went to Giddings, Texas, and studied law and was admitted to the bar. I left Giddings on the last day of December, 1890, and started for Wichita Falls, Texas. I came to Wichita Falls on the Denver train. At that time the town was new and rather small, about 2,000 in population, I think, but it struck me as a right lively little town, and I figured it would be a good place to begin my practice. My practice was very slow getting started. I handled land, some real estate. Land was selling for $10 per acre then. I sold some for $16 per acre about ten miles down the river.
The first office I held was County Judge. I was elected at the fall election in 1894 and held it through 1895-96. Next I served one term in the State Legislature, the 26th Legislature, in 1899. Then I was District Attorney of the 30th District, then District Judge again then in and out several times as District Judge.
One of the most exciting things that happened in those days was the robbing of the City National Bank in February, 1897. I was County Judge at that time, and had stayed in Ft. Worth the night before. I was on my way home on the train; when we stopped at Bellevue Mr. Kemp got on the train. He was on his way to Ft. Worth, but having received a wire from somebody in Wichita Falls, saying that the bank had been robbed, and MR. FRANK DORSEY killed, he boarded our train to return home. Captain McDonald and some of his State Rangers were on that train going south; they all came back with us. As soon as Capt. McDonald could get his officers together they left town in pursuit of the robbers. Frank Hardesty was in the group and was shot, the bullet hitting his watch which was in his vest pocket; the impact knocked him down and made him sick for a few minutes, but left him unhurt. Will Skeen and Maje Davis were in close pursuit of the robbers from the first. A group of us followed just as soon as we could. Dr. Kendall and I were in a buggy, and on the way down to the point near Mart Boger’s Ranch where the robbers were captured, John L. Sullivan, the ranger, broke his stirrup and fell off his horse. He then got in the buggy with Dr. Kendall and I took his horse and that is why I was at the scene and took part in the capture of these men. We went to that bridge right near where we captured them, and then turned back to come home, having decided that we had lost them. Charlie Word and I were riding together, and suddenly we heard Henry McCauley holler out, "Who are those men?" We looked up and saw two men running across the field towards some timber on a little creek near where we were riding. We discovered that they were the robbers. They ran toward a clump of timber where Mart Boger’s hog pen stood.
Capt. McDonald wasn’t very strong and he and Dr. Kendall were up at Mr. Boger’s resting when we first saw the robbers. Henry McCauley went and told them that we had them surrounded up there in that timber. This timber was situated on a dry creek and there was a bog wide 60-foot road and fields around it. When Capt. McDonald got there he commenced to holler and talked about going in after them. He insisted he was going in, but I told him I was not, then he began calling to the men. Then one of the robbers called and asked, "Is that Capt. McDonald?" and receiving the answer in the affirmative, he asked the Capt. if they would be protected if they would surrender. The Capt. promised to protect them. There was some little talk that indicated that some of the crowd that was there wanted to kill them, but the more level headed ones told them it was not right; that Capt. McDonald had promised to protect them and bring them back. So we brought them back in a farm wagon. I never have been able to recall who drove that wagon. We tied the prisoners together and put them on a plank seat in the center of the wagon. Lieut. Sullivan, with rifle in hand, faced them from the front seat; Will McCauley, the ranger, and myself, sat on the back seat with shotguns. Then we brought them to Wichita Falls and put them in the jail.
I refused to come down for the mobbing; I knew what they were going to do and I didn’t want to have a part in it. The grand jury indicted five or six of our citizens, but they never came to trial. Judge Miller was the presiding Judge. At the moment when the case was called a message came that Mrs. Miller had an explosion of a little stove, and Judge Miller adjourned the case for a few minutes while he went to see about her. While he was gone the attorneys elected a special judge, Charlie Sherrod, and changed the venue to Vernon, and that was the last of it.
The page continues:
Memoirs of Linn A. Boyd as told to Miss Edith Slaten April 20, 1957
Wichita County Pioneer
Q: Mr. Boyd, were you living here at the time of the City National Bank robbery?
Mr. B: Yes, I was going to school on 13th street.
Q: Can you tell us anything about it, the circumstances and results?
Mr. B: I remember that on the day of the robbery, February 25, 1896, they let out school and we boys went to town. I saw somebody on a stretcher or cot who was being moved from the bank. That proved to be Mr. Frank Dorsey, who was Cashier at the bank, and had been shot and killed by one of the bank robbers.
Q: Was P.P. Langford working for the bank at that time?
Mr. B: Yes, he was shot in the hip. Mr. Frank B. Hardesty was Deputy Sheriff, and the bandits — Kid Lewis, about nineteen years old, and Foster Crawford, about thirty years old — shot Hardesty, but hit a big silver watch he had in his vest pocket and flattened it out. He showed us boys the watch.
Q: After the bank robbery, the fellows escaped. Do you remember any of the details about that?
Mr. B: They went down the east side of the Wichita River and, when they got three or four miles from town, down Turkey Bend, they crossed over to the north side of the river. The Rangers, headed by Captain McDonald, had been here for several days because of rumors that the bank was to be robbed, but, when nothing happened, they decided they were no longer needed. They were on the train leaving, when they got word of the robbery and, at Bowie, they caught the train coming back here.
Horses were waiting for them here. They rode about eight miles from town and located the robbers in a thicket down by the river bridge. I don’t know the particulars about how they captured them, but they brought them back, put them in jail and left town. That night the mob broke into the jail and got the robbers and lynched them on the big telephone pole at the corner of the City National Bank, Seventh and Ohio Streets. I didn’t see them, but my brother went down and he saw them hanging on the telephone pole.
Finally, the compilation by Louise Kelly, authority in history of Wichita Falls:
City of National Bank Robbery of Feb. 25, 1896
The robbery of the bank, the capture and hanging of the robbers has been told many times by many people, some who knew bits of it, some only hearsay. John Gould, columnist on the Times for many years, has written the more complete account, published in the Times in four parts in 1951, June 10, 17, 24, and July 1. However, I feel that Gould relies too much on the Bill McDonald biography, who after all was not present during any of the real action (nor was W.J.L. Sullivan) and as Gould says, neither ever gave himself the worst of any situation. Some of McDonald's story is ridiculous. I have tried to use individual interviews and memoirs of people who participated or had reason to know certain events. Some things cannot be resolved: who fired the first shot, and which one shot which bank member, except for Dorsey. Several people claim to have shot one of the escapee's horses. Hardesty seems the likeliest on as he, without question, received the returned shot. No on knows really what the two men said at the lynching, or put it on record.
Rumors of a robbery had been current for some time. [This part has a strike-through: . . . much that J. A. Kemp of the bank persuaded Gov. Culbertson to send five Texas Rangers to protect the bank.] Dull duty and nothing happened and they left. Because northwest Texas had a poor record of law enforcement and was near Indian Territory, a hideout for the lawless, Mr. Kemp was able to persuade Gov. Culbertson to send five Rangers to protect the bank.
On the morning of Feb. 25, 1896, Mrs. J. A. Kemp called Frank Dorsey for coffee and told him that Clabe Burnett had called with more definite information. (Mr. Kemp was out of town.) This information Mr. Dorsey relayed to Wiley Robertson before Robertson left the bank to help at Kemp's store. Dorsey said that he feared for his life.
The City National Bank was in a three-story brick building on the southeast corner of Seventh and Ohio, across the alley from the St. James Hotel and with two outside entrances, one at the rear of the bank and the other at the corner. In the bank around two-thirty, when the robbers entered, were only for men: Frank Dorsey, cashier; Dr. O. J. Kendall, vice-president and a director, who was reporting to Dorsey on some ranch land he had checked for the bank; P. P. Langford, bookkeeper; and John L. Nickles, the only one not hurt. Friends said he was so thin that he took refuge in an ink bottle. The president, J. A. Kemp was on a trip with the Katy railroad president; Wiley Robertson, assistant cashier, was on his way to the bank with $400. to deposit for Mr. Kemp; S. E. Cannon, bank runner, was at the courthouse on an errand. There were no customers. [Chief source: Memoirs and interviews with Mrs. Kemp and Robertson.]
There is a divergence of opinion as to which robber shot first. No question but that Lewis shot Dorsey at close range when Dorsey reached for his gun below the cash drawer. Dorsey fell to the floor with his unfired gun, shot through the shoulder and the head. Lewis aimed for Kendall's heart but hit his pocket in which he was carrying his hyperdermic case, but he was stunned and fell to the floor and feigned death. P. P. Langford, slow to raise his hands, was hit on the head with a gun. When he crawled to the back door, he was shot in the fleshy rear but got to the street and gave alarm.
The bank vault was not locked, but the latch gave trouble and the robbers abandoned it, scooping up the contents of the cash drawer (about $410) in a paper sack, overlooking the next drawer which contained about $1,000.
As the robbers dashed out the back door of the bank, they pushed aside unarmed J. D. Avis and went into the alley by the St. James Hotel, where their stolen horses were waiting. As they passed the vacant lot next to the bank, Frank Hardesty, deputy sheriff, fired, severely wounding Lewis's horse. Crawford fired back but the bullet became embedded in Hardesty's watch. The two robbers rode double to 8th and east to Holliday Creek. Twice during their ride to the Thornberry area they changed horses. The first time horses were taken from William Neal, a truck farmer who was driving with his wife to Wichita Falls. Fred Crane Crane, a railroad man, witnessed this exchange. The the two worn-out horses were exchanged for some farm animals. J. F. Keller had a high-powered rifle, a special order, but the people on the street were in the way and he got no shot off.
The story of the pursuit by about a hundred men on horseback and afoot is confused, largely because the men were confused and sheriff C. M. Moses was out of town. Then, of course, each one wanted to show himself in a good light. Will Skeen was in the office of the Wichita Weekly Times working on an editorial "The Peaceful Wichita Valley" when he heard the commotion. He thought it a fire and sent six pistol shots from his upstairs window, dashed down, talked to Ed Cannon, and dashed into a gun store for cartridges. "Mother" Young told him the direction the robbers had taken, Sid Pitzer let him have his horse, the fleetest steed in Wichita Falls; and T. B. Noble contributed a Winchester rifle and rounds of ammunition. Though he fired several times, he missed. Mage Davis followed close behind until they reach date Thornberry thicket when the crowd caught up and surrounded the place where the robbers had taken refuge. It was dusk but later a full moon, and the crowd feared to go in. The robbers refused to surrender to the crowd but said they would surrender to the Rangers.
The Rangers had left on the noon train for Ft. Worth, but a Western Union dispatch caught them at Bellevue and they returned by a special car attached to an engine, arriving around five o'clock. Soule had horses waiting for them. They were having a chicken supper at Barger's, a mile away. When they arrived the full moon helped the Rangers spot the robbers and their horses and McDonald took them and the money with no trouble.
After being fed at the Mart Boger Ranch (Clay Co.) the robbers were put in a wagon in chains and covered with quilts. John Hester, foreman of a Clay County ranch, drove the wagon with the deputized Tony Thornberry beside him. Two other men rode in the rear of the wagon. They reached the jail about two A.M. and the robbers were placed in the women's part of the jail as Mrs. Hardesty had the keys only to that part of [illegible writing added to finish the sentence.] Hardesty and the posse had not returned. The Rangers slept in the jail that night but left on the early afternoon train. Some say they sensed a possible lynching. The robbers gave Hardesty their watches, one a lady's and the other stolen. Many people visited the jail to see the robbers. J. R. Bachman, then a schoolboy, said practically all the children and teachers visited.
Mob spirit grew gradually during the 26th, especially as the funeral of Dorsey brought out practically the entire population. Small groups met in offices to discuss lynching. Hardesty moved his wife and children from the jail to the house of a friend. District Judge George R. Miller pled moderation; Judge Huff spoke to the gathering group about having murder on their conscience for the rest of their lives; Hardesty said he was ready to defend the prisoners in the jail; the crowd, summoned by the fire bell, listened respectfully and was remarkably orderly but determined; none was masked or disguised. For light a bonfire was built at Seventh and Ohio. Stories vary as to how the prisoners were taken from the jail. But all agree that the door was battered down and that Hardesty gave only token resistance. Awaiting them was a rope thrown over an arm of the telephone pole at the corner entrance to the bank with some boxes beneath. Crawford snarled, asked for Burke Burnett, for whiskey, offered to lead to hidden money, then collapsed. At a pre-arranged signal someone gave a pull on the rope and kicked the boxes out. The crowd was gone in an hour.
Before dawn Tom Pickett and Nat Henderson (his story) cut the hanged men down and took their bodies to J. Seelinger's porch on Ninth and Scott. The father of Lewis wired authority for a casket, later refusing to pay for it. Lewis was buried in the casket, Crawford in the box the casket came in, and both buried in the same grave in the pauper section of Riverside Cemetery. There have been different markers, the fist of wood, the latest placed in 1958. Mrs. Dean Howard for years put flowers on the grave, the person unknown until after her death. One loop of the noose was give to Seth Mayfield who sent it to Mrs. A. H. Carrigan for the local museum. She promptly gave it to Lester Jones in January, 1935. The telephone pole stayed on the corner until it was taken down in late June of 1909.
The robbers were well-known in the area as restless cowboys who worked for Burk Burnett, and Crawford as early as 1888 (range boss, body guard, etc.), and caused trouble in Wichita Falls at times. A letter from Oda Thomas to Minnie Young, known by I. Knight and Will Taylor in Burnett line camp in Ind. Terr. published April 16, 1950, gives the best account of them. Both wore boots by Clapp of Wichita Falls. Foster Crawford was aged 35, from a good family in McClennan County. His mother and two sisters came later to see his grave. He had a few likable qualities, liked expensive clothes, boots, and gear. He was a good worker but often got drunk and fought anyone handy. Will Taylor recalled that he was once "laid out by John Foster, a dairyman. He died hard, cursing."
Elmer "Kid" Lewis, the other robber, was an 18-year old kid from Neosno (spelling), Missouri, out for excitement, fleeing from trouble in Montana. He hatched trouble and followed easily. He had been in the county about a year. He was hanged first, jeering at the crowd and saying he was not scared.
Of the $2,000. reward offered by the two banks, $800. went to the Rangers, the rest to the posse members, most of whom gave theirs to Mrs. Dorsey, who bought a home on the Charlie Road. At the insistence of Judge George Miller the grand jury met in April, 1896, and indicted fiver or more for murder (lynching), no-billed four or five, including Hardesty, and heard twenty-six witnesses. When the five came up for a preliminary hearing, Judge Miller was told his wife was in an accident in Graham. While he was away, the lawyers selected a temporary judge, C. M. Sherrod, and had four cases transferred to Wilbarger County and one to Cooke County. No record has been found of any trial being held.
Members of the grand jury:
J. C. Hunt (foreman), F. M. Avis, S. M. Butcher, A. A Honaker, W. C. Heath, F. D. Kildow, R. O. C. Lynch, John Myers, E. A. McCleskey, D. M. Smith, Andrew Weeth, T. P. Roberts.
Bailiffs: I. Knight, J. F. White, R. T. Pickett, A. C. Bragg.
Other sources
IN THIS WESTERN COUNTRY, a series published in the Times in March, April, and August of 1950.
O. E. Cannon, Record News March 21, 1944, various Times clips.
Memoirs and interviews: Wiley Robertson, Mrs. J. A. Kemp, T. T. T. Reese, Nat Henderson, Jerome Stone, and many others shoe were here in 1896.
The City National Bank was founded in 1890, experienced its first robbery in 1896, and its second in 1971. The second robbery was committed by two women and was by no means as criminal as the first. Its first offices were in a small building on Eighth and Indiana, moved to Seventh and Ohio, and then moved to the corner of Eighth and Scott streets.
The marker reads:
The Wichita Falls
Bank Robbery of 1896
On the afternoon of Feb. 25, 1896,
two cowboys, Foster Crawford
and Elmer "Kid" Lewis, robbed the
City National Bank, then located
at Ohio and 7th st. (2 blocks east).
They killed cashier Frank Dorsey,
took about $410 cash, and fled on
horseback. A posse of citizens and
Texas Rangers captured the pair
that night hiding in a thicket
outside of town. The next day,
after the Rangers departed, the
anger of the townspeople turned
to violence. On the night of Feb.
26, a mob dragged the prisoners
from the jail and lynched them
in front of the bank building. (1978)
Due to the decline at that time of the area of Seventh and Ohio, the marker was placed on the "new" building of the City National, 807 Eighth Street. The GPS coordinates are 33-degrees 54' 42.5" -98-degrees 29' 32.2".
