It was probably the first high-tech stock swindle to hit Santa Rosa: the man who had mesmerized the town In 1908 about the futuristic wonders of the “wireless” was actually a con man. Not since a vaudeville magician who called himself “The Great McEwen” convinced many in 1904 that he was a bonafide mind reader had Santa Rosans been suckered wholesale.

Over four nights, audiences packed the downtown Pavilion to see H. C. Robinson, who claimed to be a representative of the Marconi Wireless Telegraph Company, perform “practical demonstrations of sending and receiving messages without wires, including several feats of ringing fire bells, lighting electric lights and operating danger signals through the mysterious agency of Hertzian waves,” as the Press Democrat reported at the time. What the PD neglected to mention was that Mr. Robinson’s real objective was to sell Marconi stock for $20 per share, and several local businessmen jumped on the opportunity.

About a month later, one of these Santa Rosa investors swore a warrant for Robinson’s arrest. His Marconi stock certificates had not been delivered. Worse, he discovered the stock was only worth half that price, the company had never paid a dividend, and wasn’t planning to build a transmission tower that could send messages as far as Honolulu, as Robinson had promised. Arrested at the tony St. Francis hotel in San Francisco, Robinson was brought back here, where he returned the $400 he had received from the investor. Case dismissed.

If the story ended there, it could be explained away as mix-up. Perhaps the investor misunderstood, perhaps Robinson exaggerated and lied, in a salesman-ish way, to close the deal. Perhaps a little of both; it certainly wasn’t clear that there was criminal intent. But thanks to the breadth of newspaper archives now available on the Internet, we discover that Mr. Robinson was a swindler sought by police all over the world.

First, his name wasn’t “H. C.” as reported here; it was Horace Greeley Robinson – “Harry G,” as the chummy NY Evening World nicknamed him – and just days before he appeared in the Santa Rosa court, authorities in New York shut down his offices at 80 Wall Street, charging that the firm of Robinson & Robinson existed only to sell bogus Marconi stock. Scotland Yard was chasing him, as was an investigator from the Marconi company. By the time the coppers finally caught up with Harry in May, 1909, it was estimated that he had cheated investors worldwide out of $1,500,000 – worth up to half a billion dollars today, it was a sum that would make even our modern Wall St. bandits sit up and mew.

Given the international scope of his crimes, it may seem surprising that he spent almost a week in Santa Rosa, but he apparently did a crook’s tour of the entire Bay Area; another suit against him was for $800 cheated out of someone in San Jose (UPDATE HERE). Likely the smaller places appealed because news of his scam might not travel very far or draw the attention of sophisticated investors. Police in New York even had a complaint from a victim in Box Hill, New South Wales, a village outpost of Sydney that currently has a population of under a thousand.

He was finally caught by a stroke of luck – a New York City police detective was tipped off that Harry had recently appeared in night court for a drunken brawl with a hotel detective. According to the newspapers, he told officers that he was a banker who had just returned from a trip abroad on government business.

For a man who sold fake stock in cutting-edge communication technology, there was irony in that he evaded arrest for years thanks to poor communication by police nationally and internationally. He never varied his shtick, which should have made him easy to find. As the New York Times reported in a front page story on May 1, 1909:

BUYS “WIRELESS” AND REGRETS IT
J. S. Rhodes of This City has H. C. Robinson Arrested on a Charge of Obtaining Money Falsely

As a result of a warrant sworn out in Justice Atchinson’s court here by J. S. Rhodes, a well-known local merchant, H. C. Robinson, who spent some time here in June exploiting wireless telegraph stock, was arrested in San Francisco Wednesday, charged with feloniously obtaining money under false pretense, and will be brought back today to face trial.

According to the complaint of Rhodes, Robinson represented to him that the Marconi Wireless Telegraph Co., Limited (of England) which he represented, had fixed the market value of its stock at $20 per share and that in 1907 the company paid 12 per cent dividends on its stock. It was further represented that the company was engaged in erecting a station in San Francisco, and would be ready by November of this year to transmit messages between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Rhodes asserts that he purchased 20 shares, or $400 worth of stock on these representations, but no learns and alleges that the company only holds its stock at $10 per share, has never paid a dividend, and is not engaged in erecting a station in San Francisco, and has no expectation of doing so at present. As a result of these facts Rhodes believes he gave up his coin on false pretenses, and seeks to have Robinson tell the wherefore in court.

Constable Sam Gillam goes to San Francisco this morning to bring the man back to Santa Rosa. The arrest was made in the St. Francis hotel by an officer who had been informed of the issuance of the warrant after Rhodes had pointed his man out.

It is stated that Rhodes is not the only one who bought stock here, and in many different places in the state on the same representations as those made to Rhodes.

– Press Democrat, July 30, 1908

RHODES GETS BACK “WIRELESS” COIN
H. C. Robinson Returns $400 to Santa Rosa Man and Case is Dismissed Here on Thursday Afternoon

H. C. Robinson, the broker and seller of Marconi Wireless Telegraph stock, who was arrested in San Francisco at the St. Francis Hotel last week on a complaint sworn out by J. S. Rhodes of the city, charging him with obtaining $400 under false pretenses on account of his failure to deliver stock and in non-fulfillment of alleged representations regarding the same, paid Rhodes back his money in Justice Atchinson’s court Thursday afternoon and Justice Latimer of Windsor, sitting for Justice Atchinson made an order dismissing the case.

Rhodes had a number of witnesses subpoenaed from this city and San Francisco, but when Attorney W. M. Sims announced the intention of Robinson to pay back the money, as he had originally promised to do if Rhodes became dissatisfied, they were not wanted. In fact the proceedings were a very informal nature in the Justice Court. Rhodes having stated that all he wanted was a return of his money and if he got it further proceedings would not be taken, there’s nothing left for it but for a dismissal of the case.

When Justice Latimer called the case, Wm. M. Sims, attorney for defendant, addressing the court, said:

“I will state, may it please your honor, that this transaction between the defendant and complaining witness was made in good faith and that the defendant had no intent whatsoever to make a statement that was not correct…”

[..]

Robinson was naturally much pleased with the outcome of the case and in company with his attorney left for San Francisco on the afternoon train. Before he left he stated that he had done exactly what he promised he would do and declared that he had acted in good faith all the time.

– Press Democrat, August 7, 1908

Read More

Never had Santa Rosa seen someone with money like this: Coming to live here was an incredibly rich German aristocrat. When asked about his fortune, the Baron would only offer a long whistle to indicate that it had no end. Trouble was, all that great wealth actually belonged to his wife, who was so frugal that he was forced to sometimes ask his new friends for loans to cover his living expenses.

Uh-oh.

“Baron Von Senden” was a con-man, of course, and the smooth-talking young fellow fooled Santa Rosa’s real estate agents who hoped he’d buy a large ranch in the area, possibly even the sprawling McDonald property, which was about half the size of Santa Rosa at the time (it was a square-ish plot of land between Summerfield Road and the city reservoir, including all of Spring Lake Park and most of Howarth Park).

But it was the society swells in San Francisco who really got rooked by the “Baron.” who treated him to fine dinners and nights at the theatre, all the while forcing upon him wads of their cash to ease his terribly embarrassing lack of pocket money. As a show of his gratitude, he gifted them with boxes of cherries, fresh butter, and suckling pigs, all from his huge dairy in Point Reyes and his grand orchard in Santa Rosa. In reality, the “Baron” was just buying these treats in the San Francisco markets.

When he finally fled the area with some $900 in his pockets, the San Francisco Call discovered that this charming young man was actually Edward Miller, who came to the United States from Germany around 1890. (Miller probably read the name “Baron Von Senden” in a newspaper; the real man with that title was then an admiral in the German Navy and diplomat. And, by the by, some fifteen years later, another Baron Von Senden, presumably his son, was involved in the Black Reichswehr, the banned pro-Nazi faction inside the German Army as Hitler was rising to power.)

Miller had worked on land owned by the governor of Tennessee, drifted to Michigan, and then the Bay Area in October. 1907. He arrived here just in time for the Bank Panic of 1907, which nearly derailed the entire U.S. economy. He was employed at an Oakland stable for a time, but circumstances apparently forced him to take one of the worst jobs imaginable: He became a San Francisco rat catcher.

(RIGHT: A crew of San Francisco rat catchers pictured in a 1908 magazine article about efforts to eradicate sources of plague. The men were paid per rat captured and killed, with the dead vermin sent at the end of the day to the “ratatorium” where the rats were skinned and examined for signs of infection. CLICK to enlarge)

A little over a year past the great 1906 earthquake, San Francisco was facing another outbreak of bubonic plague. During the first four years of the century, over 100 people had died in the city; now another epidemic loomed. The hero of the day was Dr. Rupert Blue, who mobilized the city’s Bureau of Health into an efficient machine that searched for rats, checked them for disease, and promptly dispatched public health officers to wipe them out. The foot soldiers in this army were the motley crew of rat catchers, men either desperate to earn a dime per rat or just in it for the killing fun. It was a dangerous business that paid poorly, and Dr. Blue tried incentive schemes to motivate them, while his assistant wrote an instruction manual, “How to Catch Rats,” that included the instruction that a chick or duckling should be placed near the trap to offer come-hither cheeps.

The intriguing aspect of this story comes down to the moment that Edward Miller, a rat catcher with the dimmest of futures, decided he would transform himself into the brightly gilded Baron Von Senden. How he gathered the nerve to make that metamorphosis must have required a good measure of desperation mixed with a criminal slant, and maybe a hearty dash of Don Quixote-like madness as well.

THE “BARON” WAS IN CITY OF ROSES
Bogus Titled Foreigner Negotiated for Ranch Property But Did Not Come Through With the Coin

A number of Santa Rosans, including the real estate men, read with interest of the disappearance of the bogus Baron Von Senden, alias E. Miller, from San Francisco, leaving a host of unpaid bills in his wake.

It was stated in the metropolitan newspaper that the “baron” had been to Santa Rosa and had negotiated for the purchase of a fine ranch. This statement is true. The baron was here on several occasions and was accompanied by an attractive woman, brunette, whom he introduced as his wife. They stopped at a local hotel and the supposedly titled foreigner gave people the impression that he was a man of considerable wealth.

It was ascertained here yesterday that all the “baron” did was to negotiate but did not invest any of the coin in land hereabouts. He did a whole lot of inspecting of places, particularly the big McDonald ranch, near the city pumping station.

– Press Democrat, October 25, 1908

POSES AS BARON; REAPS BIG CROP
Edward Miller Cuts Wide Swath and Disappears, Leaving His Creditors to Mourn

With no more capital than a bogus title, an easy manner and a colossal nerve, Edward Miller, a young German, who post as Baron von Senden, was able to win his way into the most exclusive clubs of San Francisco, to gain the friendship of men high in finance and society, and incidentally to extract from them sums of money reaching a total of $900. When he made his final cleanup the young “baron” made a hurried departure to fields unknown. Now the story is being told in the clubs and cafes and those who were in the confidences of the young foreigner are bending every effort to establish an alibi.

There was no limit to which the baron would not expand his riches if occasion demanded. He had been a rat catcher on Dr. Blue’s staff, he had worked in an Oakland livery stable, but after he made his grand entry into society he became, according to his own tales, the owner of a vast dairy ranch in Marin County and a wonderful orchard near Santa Rosa. He sent rolls of butter to his friends from his “dairy”; he sent boxes of cherries tied with pink ribbons from his orchard, and to those for whom he had borrowed the largest sums he sent sucking pigs from his farm–all purchased in lower Washington street with the coin he had coaxed from his benefactors.

He was received at the Pacific Union club, he autoed with Manager Meyerfeld of the Louvre, he drank champagne with Antonio Blanco of restaurant fame, he inspected Marin county with President M. T. Freitas of the Portuguese-American bank, he dined sumptuously with Dr, von Horstman of the German hospital, he rode to the theater in Kelly’s carriages at Kelly’s expense, and he sipped tea with a young society matron from whom he accepted, with many protestations, a temporary loan of $50.

The baron was a devotee of the automobile, the wine supper and the night life of the ocean boulevard. HIs 250 pounds rocked with laughter at every jest, with an entertaining accent he told pleasing stories and the thought that the baron was not the Pierpont Morgan of the kaisers realm never entered the minds of those with whom he dined and motored.

The baron was an artist in his line. His wife, he said, was the wealthy member of the family. She had the money and the baron would give a long whistle to indicate that it had no end. But his wife was frugal and he was “compelled to borrow occasionally” from his friends. The early advances he repaid only to enlarge his credit. The end came when he made his great coup and departed with $900 tucked under his velvet vest.

Miller came to America 18 years ago with the letter of introduction to the governor of Tennessee. He became the manager of the governor’s estate, and while in the South married a young woman of excellent family. She was with him in California, but was ill a great part of the time. From Tennessee Miller drifted to Milwaukee, and came to San Francisco in October of the last year.

At first he worked in an Oakland stable and then joined the rat catching regiment. It was while working in this capacity that be conceived the idea of capitalizing his nerve, with highly successful results.

Meyerfeld was good enough to advance him $250, Bianco thought he was to have a partner in his business and made general contributions to the visitor’s cash account. Freitas also made generous donations. A number of cafe proprietors were on the list for large amounts. In fact, the list of contributors resembles the subscription list for the entertainment of the fleet.

The baron was not satisfied with the local field, but worked the suburbs as well. San Rafael remembered him, as does San Jose and even the pleasant little village of Point Reyes. It was at Point Reyes that the baron had his mythical dairy with 6,000 cows.

The baron was a gifted talker. He could discuss military affairs and politics, but he appears to have been at his best at finance.

– San Francisco Call, October 23, 1908

Read More