Soapy Smith - King of the Frontier Con Men
“I consider bunco steering more honorable than the life led by the average politician.” Those were the words of Jefferson “Soapy”
Smith and he lived by them for almost his entire life. His name probably isn’t very familiar to
you, but Soapy Smith might have been the most successful con man of the Old West. He united grifters and gunmen into an organization
and built a criminal empire for himself no less than three times. Whenever a city got too hot for him or the
well of suckers began to dry out, Soapy would pack up and move to another place and start
again from the ground up. Unsurprisingly, a life such as his during
those wild frontier days was rife with adventure, mayhem, and violence. He had to contend with numerous attempts on
his life. He interacted with other popular figures of
western lore such as Bat Masterson and Sam Bass. He once barricaded himself inside city hall
armed with dynamite and fought to a stand-off against state militia. And, of course, he died guns blazing. All the ingredients are there for the thrilling
tale of Soapy Smith, the man who became known as the “King of the Frontier Con Men.” Early Years
He was born Jefferson Randolph Smith II sometime in late 1860 near the town of Newnan in Coweta
County, Georgia. He actually came from a wealthy family that
had quite a bit of influence in the area. Smith’s grandfather used to be a state legislator
and owned a big plantation while his father was an attorney. Most of those riches went away while Jeff
was still a toddler, though, when the American Civil War ravaged the area. The family struggled to get things to how
they were before so, instead, in the mid 1870s, they packed up and moved to start anew in
Round Rock, Texas. Even before he embarked on his life as a grifter,
Smith unwittingly became part of Wild West history when he was witness to a shootout
between Texas Rangers and the notorious outlaw Sam Bass. On July 19, 1878, Bass and his gang came into
Round Rock and were approached by a deputy who ordered them to disarm. They refused and, instead, shot the deputy
dead. This prompted a gunfight with Texas Rangers
who were also visiting the city. Smith and his cousin Edwin, better known as
Bobo, had a front-row view for the proceedings. Allegedly, after one of the rangers hit Bass
as he was trying to flee, Smith even shouted out “I think you got him!” Sam Bass was captured later that day. He died of his injuries two days later and
was buried in the local cemetery. Smith had a lot of brothers. Some of them became attorneys like their father. Others became doctors, one became a farmer
and another a minister. Jeff, however, seemed destined to turn into
the black sheep of the family. As a teenager, he discovered that people found
his demeanor trustworthy and that he could use this to his advantage. According to one version of the story, Smith
did try honest work for a while as a cowboy. He might have even studied to become a minister
like his older brother, but this all changed one day when he encountered a con man. The experienced swindler took Smith for half
of his month’s salary. Once he discovered he’d been suckered, Smith
was not angry, though. He didn’t even try to get his money back. Instead, it was like a whole new world full
of possibilities had just opened up for him. Like most tricksters, he started out small. The same year that Bass got shot, Smith left
the family home to make his own way. At first, he moved around between country
fairs, mining and cattle towns and peddled cheap trinkets and fake jewelry. He also began picking up on classic scams
like three-card monte and thimblerig, better known today as the shell game. It was called thimblerig because, back in
those days, it was still common to use three thimbles and a pea for the con. Afterwards, using three walnut shells became
standard practice, hence the name “shell game”, but nowadays you are more likely
to see swindlers employ a ball and three cups. The materials might have changed, but the
con remains the same. The players (or “marks”, to use the correct
terminology) have to watch closely as the operator shuffles three containers around
and place a wager on the container they think holds the ball. It is made to look like a gambling game, perhaps
even a game of skill but, in reality, the operator uses sleight of hand to place the
ball wherever they want and avoid paying out. Obviously, this was even easier back in the
old days when they used a small pea. If the con man had an accomplice, they might
pose as a player and actually win a game to show others that it is possible and entice
them to try their luck. This person is known as a “shill.” Smith Gets Soapy
Soon enough, Smith found his trademark scam known as the “prize soap racket.” It would even garner him the nickname “Soapy”
which stuck around for the rest of his life, even though he went on to engage in far more
ambitious swindles. Allegedly, the moniker came from a police
officer who arrested Smith for his “prize soap racket.” Unable to remember the swindler’s name,
he just wrote down “Soapy.” There is no solid evidence to suggest this
ever happened, but I suppose it is as good an origin story as any. Here is how the trick worked. Smith presented himself as a humble soap salesman
who, in order to boost his sales, had hidden several bills of various denominations inside
the wrappers to some of his products. Anyone who bought a soap from him had a chance
to win back their money ten, twenty, even fifty times over if they were lucky enough
to win the big prize which was usually a $50 or a $100 bill. Soapy first started using this scam in Leadville,
Colorado. Initially, the bars of soap were cheap - somewhere
around $1. However, as the supply dwindled and many bars
of soap with prizes inside were yet to be claimed, the price increased. Eventually, if there were only a few bars
left and nobody won the big prize yet, those soaps would be auctioned off and go to the
highest bidders. The key to success for his scam was that people
had to win the prizes. More importantly, they had to win them in
loud, overt ways in front of everyone to show other people that the giveaways were legit
and encourage them to try their luck. Of course, the swindle would not be very profitable
if Soapy actually awarded hundreds of dollars in prizes every day so, obviously, the big
winners were his shills. Smith used sleight of hand and other tricks
to ensure that the soap bars with the large bills ended up in the hands of his accomplices. As far as the wrappers with the smaller denominations
were concerned, those probably did end up with lucky buyers. It worked in Soapy’s favor to give those
to real customers for two reasons - it helped spread word of his “contest” and it meant
that he required fewer shills to keep the scam going. The “soap racket” helped Smith rake in
a tidy profit, but he had his sights set a bit higher and, soon enough, left Leadville for Denver. King of Denver’s Underworld
In 1879, Soapy headed for the big leagues of Denver, the first of three cities where
he would build his thriving criminal enterprise from the ground up. Denver proved to be a haven for people like
him. It not only had a relaxed attitude towards
gambling, but it was a city in the midst of a population boom, meaning there were always
fresh, new targets coming off the train, just waiting to lose all their money. At first, Smith stuck to the “soap racket”
and other small-time cons he was familiar with, but with time, he started branching
out into a more executive role. He began uniting all the swindlers, con men,
card sharps, and other men of dubious reputation into a more cohesive organization...with him
at the top, of course. In just a few years, Soapy Smith had formed
a criminal empire and became king of Denver’s underworld. We should take a minute here to mention that
Smith did not really fit the stereotype we have of the typical con man who is smooth,
and charming, and non-violent, and prefers flight over fight whenever there is a need
for a quick getaway. Soapy was not like that. He was a violent man whose demeanor and behavior
were more similar to that of a gangster, especially once he started gaining some real power. He was a mean drunk and he became quite known
(and feared) for his bad temper. He had a lot of other savage men in his employ
who weren’t there to run cons on people, but to make sure that his gang had the upper
hand if things escalated to violence. These situations occurred rather frequently,
not only when an angry mark wanted revenge after realizing that they had been swindled,
but also when other crooks tried to muscle in on Soapy’s territory. Outwardly, Smith like to portray himself as
a man of the community, similar to mob bosses like Al Capone who would follow in his footsteps. He donated generously to charities and churches,
got involved in community projects, closed his saloons on Sundays, and helped people
in need. At the height of his power in Denver, Soapy
had around 100 men in his employ. More importantly, he had the police and politicians
in his pocket. Most patrolling cops were paid off and left
Soapy’s men alone to operate with impunity. The ones who weren’t crooked knew there
was nothing they could do. Even if they arrested the con men, they would
soon be released thanks to a combination of witnesses, attorneys, and politicians standing
ready to assist. Inevitably, Soapy wanted to expand his criminal
empire. Regardless of how many men he had under him,
there was a limit to how much money he could make if all they did were small-time cons.
Smith opened several saloons and gambling halls, the most famous of which was the Tivoli
Club in 1888. According to popular legend, the bar had a
sign above the entrance to the gambling parlor which, fittingly, said caveat emptor - “buyer
beware.” Soapy also opened fake lottery offices and
stock exchanges. If one of them was exposed as being fraudulent,
he would simply close up shop and reopen it in another place. His younger brother, Bascomb Smith, joined
his operation and ran a cigar store which was a front for various swindles that took
place in the backroom. It was also at this time that Soapy Smith
began rubbing elbows with some of the other famed figures of the Old West. One of them was “Texas Jack” Vermillion,
a gunfighter who was best known for participating in the notorious Earp Vendetta Ride where
Wyatt Earp and his associates took revenge against the men who attacked his brothers. Incidentally, if you would like to know more
about this renowned episode of western lore, you can learn all about it in our episode
that we did on Wyatt Earp. It would seem that around 1888, Vermillion
made his way to Denver and joined up with Soapy’s gang. The following year, they were involved in
a shootout in Pocatello, Idaho, against a rival bunco gang that tried to kill Smith. Vermillion drifted away to other parts soon
after. Another Wild West icon who made Smith’s
acquaintance was Bat Masterson. He was a card dealer in Denver for a while
and worked in Soapy’s saloons. The two of them established a relationship
that continued even after Smith decided it was time to leave Denver. That moment didn’t happen for quite a while,
though. By nature, a con man lives the life of a drifter
and does not spend a lot of time in the same city. Thanks to his powerful criminal empire and
his connections, however, Smith spent over a decade in Denver. He even got married at one point, to a woman
named Mary Noonan, and had kids. He was pretty successful in keeping his two
worlds apart as he told his wife never to ask him about his business while most of his
associates had no idea he was even married. Smith didn’t manage it completely, though. At one point, the Rocky Mountain News published
an article talking about his family which finally made his worlds collide. He was so angered by this that he attacked
the newspaper editor with his cane so hard that he fractured the man’s skull. Soapy was arrested and charged with attempted
murder and, even though he got off, the media started focusing more on his criminal empire. He “lurked in shadows as black as his soul”,
was a memorable line used to describe Smith. Newspapers often made mention of his close
ties to Denver’s Mayor Londoner and Police Chief Farley by derisively naming the trio
“the firm of Londoner, Farley, and Smith.” Eventually, the mayor and police chief lost
their jobs and new city officials began enacting anti-gambling reforms. A good con man knows when to cut bait and
run and Smith did just that, relocating to the mining boomtown of Creede, Colorado. From Denver to Creede
As soon as Soapy arrived in Creede in 1892, he enacted his plan to take over. The town was small, but growing by the minute. Therefore, Soapy’s main concern was to obtain
as many properties as possible on Creede’s main street. Allegedly, he did this by bringing in Denver
prostitutes who used their charms to “persuade” other men to sign over their leases. An interesting episode was the addition of
William Sidney Light, better known as “Cap”, to Soapy’s gang. Cap was a lawman who, seemingly, had an exemplary
record in law enforcement. He was also Smith’s brother-in-law and,
after Soapy became the new boss in town, he convinced Cap to take over as the deputy marshal. We’re not sure exactly what the arrangement
was. Did Cap actually think he was going to clean
up Creede? Did he realize he was only there to serve
as muscle for his brother-in-law? Either way, the gig didn’t last long. Just a few months after taking the position
of marshal, Cap confronted a drunk card dealer named William McCann who was shooting his
gun in the street. Predictably, a gunfight ensued and Cap killed
McCann. Even though the coroner’s jury concluded
that he was justified, Cap quit soon after. Cap’s demise came a year later in a very
bizarre way. During a court hearing, a man named Coggins
pulled out a revolver and shot him in the head twice. His injuries were very bad, but Cap survived. Yes, that’s right. He survived being shot in the head twice. Later that year, Cap was riding a train alone
and he accidentally discharged his gun in his pocket. The bullet hit him in the leg, severed his
femoral artery and Cap bled to death in minutes. Back to Smith, he wasted no time in gaining
control of Creede. His main competition was a saloon called Ford’s
Exchange, operated by Robert Ford, the notorious outlaw who killed Jesse James. The timing worked out great for Soapy, though,
as Ford was himself assassinated on June 8, 1892, by Edward Capehart O’Kelley, thus
making it a lot easier for Smith to establish his presence in town. Many have alleged that Soapy was ultimately
behind Ford’s death as he convinced O’Kelley to do the deed, but there’s no evidence
to attest to that idea. Not before long, all saloons in town paid
tribute to Smith, all except one - the Denver Exchange. The reason this establishment escaped Soapy’s
grasp was because it was managed by Bat Masterson. We don’t know if it was because of friendship,
respect, or fear, but Smith never tried to mess with Masterson’s saloon and even gambled
there on occasion. During his time in Creede, Smith enacted all
of his usual scams and frauds, but there was also a new one which was strange enough that
it merits mention. Soapy got his hands on a petrified man. He named it McGinty and put it on display
in an exhibition. It only cost people ten cents to see the oddity,
but while they were waiting in line, there were shell and card games available to help
them pass the time (and spend more money). And Back Again
Meanwhile, in Denver, city officials realized that cleaning up the town had actually been
terrible for business. They wanted Smith and all of his associates
back and, fortunately for all involved, the timing worked out great. After a growth spurt, the boomtown of Creede
had lost its “boom” and was now just a regular town, not to mention that a great
fire destroyed many buildings, including Soapy’s main headquarters, the Orleans Club. Smith was looking to relocate again. With minimal effort, Soapy was back running
scams and rackets in Denver. The good times didn’t last long, though. While city officials were happy that Smith
was back to his old ways, the new Colorado Governor David Hanson Waite was not. He was elected on an anti-corruption platform
and proceeded to fire the top Denver officials he considered responsible for corruption in
the city. In response, the officials and many of their
associates barricaded themselves inside Denver City Hall. They called on Smith for assistance and even
made him deputy sheriff. In turn, he joined them inside city hall and
brought his men who were armed with rifles and dynamite. Consequently, the governor brought in the
state militia in an event commemorated in the media as the “Denver City Hall War.” It may have been called a war, but if anyone
actually opened fire, it would have been a massacre, not a war. The men inside the building might have been
armed with rifles, but the militia had cannons and gatling guns. Soapy and his men would have been slaughtered. Fortunately for them, cooler heads prevailed
and the governor decided to withdraw the militia. The courts eventually sided with him and the
Denver officials stayed fired. With his political protection gone, Soapy
lost a lot of territory to his competition, mainly a gang ran by the Blonger brothers. In 1895, Soapy and Bascomb got in trouble
after beating up a saloon owner. His brother was put in jail for attempted
murder while Soapy was forced to flee Denver. Last Stop: Alaska
With no other choice, Smith relocated again. After drifting unsuccessfully from place to
place for a few years, he settled on Skagway, Alaska, looking to take advantage of the Klondike
Gold Rush. Smith operated in the same way as before as
he used the resources at his disposal to gather allies for his eventual takeover. He put the town marshal on his payroll. He hired henchmen who started running various
cons such as fixed card games. He even added a fake telegraph office to his
repertoire. Clients would pay the fees, but they never
noticed that the wires went inside the wall but didn’t come out on the other side. And, of course, while they were waiting for
a reply, there were more than a few “friendly” characters around who enticed them to play
a few games to pass the time. Soapy opened a saloon called simply “Jeff.Smith’s
Parlor” which functioned as his base of operations. According to a description, it looked “innocent
enough.” It had a main bar and restaurant and, in the
back, there was a parlor as pretty and cozy as “a lady’s boudoir” where marks would
lose all their money. Outside, there was a small empty yard which
had a secret exit so Soapy’s men could make a quick getaway if they got made. The saloon still stands today and operates
as a museum. Not everyone welcomed Smith with open arms,
even though he continued his tradition of making generous donations to portray himself
as a pillar of the community. A vigilance committee known as the “Committee
of 101” wanted to throw him out of town. In reply, Soapy formed his own “Law and
Order Committee of 317” to ensure that justice would be “dealt out to its full extent.” It’s unclear if Smith actually had 317 men
under his command, but based on later arrests, it’s highly unlikely that his gang numbered
more than a few dozen. Smith lasted less than a year in Skagway before
his bad temper finally became the end of him. A miner named John Stewart was causing a ruckus
in town about losing his gold in one of Soapy’s scams. Nothing out of the ordinary so far, but Stewart
was being far more vocal than your average mark and he had the support of the “Committee
of 101.” On July 8, 1898, the committee held a meeting
on Juneau Wharf that Smith decided to crash. He left his men behind, concluding that his
Winchester rifle was all the persuasion he needed to get an invite. Turns out, he was wrong. The committee placed four guards at the entry
to the wharf. One of them named Frank Reid blocked Soapy’s
entrance. Smith tried to hit him with the butt of his
rifle, but Reid caught it with one hand and pulled out his revolver with the other. He shot the grifter who had time to shoot
him back before collapsing. Some say another guard named Jesse Murphy
fired the fatal shot. Either way, Soapy Smith died on the spot while
Reid succumbed to his wounds 12 days later. With Soapy dead, his gang wasn’t so scary
anymore. The townsfolk began rounding up all the swindlers
and it was only the timely arrival of the U.S. Army infantry that saved some of them
from being lynched. The prominent members of the gang were put
in prison while the rest were thrown out of town.
