One of the stories I came across was the saga of Bessie Williams, champion jail breaker. This little fireball broke out of the city and county jail more times than anyone could count. She received national coverage for her Houdini-like abilities.
In addition to constantly breaking out of jail she was also involved in a salacious, brutal murder trial. Bessie was never arrested for prostitution, usually only small time ‘theft of person,’ but she had no visible means of support and likely did whatever she had to do to make ends meet. It seems a married man had taken to strong a liking to Bessie and shot one of her friends and lovers in a fit of jealous rage. When the police arrived on the scene, Bessie was sitting on the bed, next to the corpse, out of her mind and chewing broken glass.
Taken as a whole, the life of Bessie Williams is straight out of a Coen Brothers movie. Her story needed to be told but I wasn’t sure I was quite up to the task. I had everything I needed. The archivists at the Fort Worth Public Library had done an extensive search of Bessie. They had dozens of articles and the stories were well written. She dropped off the public record around 1916. A death certificate for a Bessie Williams who died in prison was found from the early 1960s that fit Bessie’s age and general description but there was no way to be certain it was her. I was thinking of writing a historical fiction piece, so I could fill in the blanks as I saw fit.
After much pondering and many false starts, I started to look at all the stories I had accumulated and found I had several fascinating story lines all weaving between the years 1910 and 1919. During this period, Fort Worth was struggling to shed its Wild West and violent frontier image and move solidly into becoming a modern, industrial city. It was a struggle that came with growing pains and casualties.
We’re For Smoke: Outlaws and Outliers in Panther City was born. All thanks to Bessie Williams, the woman of no man's land.
Here is an excerpt from Bessie’s story.
August 17, 1914
Fort Worth Star Telegram
Well, Well, Well! Bessie Has New Way to Escape
Bessie Williams, the most arrested woman in Fort Worth, got additional fame as a jail breaker Sunday night when she dug a twenty pound stone out of the wall in her cell, and battered down an iron door to freedom. Two other women got their liberty along with Bessie. The escape is supposed to have been made about 10 o’clock Sunday night.
City and county jails are patched in half a dozen places where Bessie has sawed through them in the past year, but battering down an iron door – a feat heretofore considered next to impossible – is a new method of escape not only for Bessie, but for all jail breakers.
Bessie Williams has the reputation of having broken out of jail more times than any woman in the world.
When Bessie got her supper Sunday night she is supposed to have held back a spoon. With this spoon she gouged the big stone out of the wall. Then she went to work on the iron door.
#
Assistant Chief Speight, Night Sergeant Little, Police Chief Montgomery, Patrolman Coffey and Deputy Sheriff Fitch stood silent in the run of the woman’s ward. All eyes were lowered to the iron door and large stone lying on the floor.
In the cell behind them and to their left, the door was slightly ajar; a large, gaping hole in the wall where the stone once was. Chips, dust and masonry bits were scattered on the floor. In his lowered hands Speight held the lock and chain futilely used to contain Bessie.
“If we just gave her the money we spend to keep her in here and repair the damage she does, she likely would have no need to thieve and whore and our jail would not be torn down stone by stone,” said Speight, more as a thought to himself than general conversation. “Before much longer we will be guarding a hovel. All the bars and beds will be gone. Washed down and floated away in the Clear Fork.”
Speight drew a heavy breath, closed his eyes then dropped the lock and chain. “I do not know what for,” he exhaled, “but put it all back the way it was.” No one moved, let alone spoke an acknowledgment.
Speight and Police Chief Montgomery walked over the iron door and left the run. Night Sergeant Little, Patrolman Coffey and Deputy Sheriff Fitch looked from the iron door to the hole in the wall then back to the door.
“Frank,” said Night Sergeant Little. “Go fetch the tool box.” Patrolman Coffey nodded and left.
#
No marks were ever allowed in Bessie’s house. She preferred to keep business away from her home and private asylum. However, there were different kinds of marks and exceptions were made on occasion.
Bessie had known John West for several years. He could be considered more of a benefactor than a run of the mill mark. West worked for Swift as an inspector and from time to time brought Bessie scraps of gristle and bone. Their relationship was simple, clear and unemotional.
West had lost his parents at age eleven. His father was killed in a railcar accident and his mother had died of consumption four months later. Relatives had made it clear John was not their concern and he had grown up on the streets like Bessie. Well, not exactly like Bessie, life on the streets for a boy old enough to have at least a little muscle on his bones was quite different from a girl of tender years.
Both had developed similar emotional detachments from people, places and things that made their relationship feasible. Without thinking about it Bessie knew she could let John into her sanctuary without worry or threat.
John had shown up at Bessie’s three days ago with an armful of Jake and the two had been on a bender. John knew how long he could miss work before he would no longer be welcome at Swift and was throwing up through a window when Jack Thompson walked in the front door. Bessie lay on the bed, full blown gone in a stupor.
When John entered the room still wiping the spittle from his mouth, he found Jack sitting on the bed with Bessie’s head in his lap, slowly caressing her cheek.
“What in the Sam Hill,” John muttered.
“You do not take care of her,” Jack said, glaring up at John.
“Of all the souls in this world needin’ took care of, she is not one of them.” John took slow but deliberate steps towards a chair across the room that held his shirt. Bessie stirred. She came back to consciousness with a jerk and lept from the bed.
“Jack Thompson, you Bedlam fiend! What in the hell are you doing here!” She screamed. Jack reflexively drew his arm in front of his face but Bessie threw no blows.
“Get out of here!” Bessie screamed.
“But Bessie,” Jack said, barely audible.
“Leave my house! Now!”
Again, speaking low, his head lowered, Jack whimpered, “I have money for you.”
“Good. Leave it, then git!”
Jack slowly stood from the bed, reached in his pocket and left two dollars and change on the bed side table.
“I mean it, Jack Thompson. I’m in no mood for you,” said Bessie.
As Jack reached the door John muttered, just loud enough for Jack to hear, “That ain’t no real man.”
Jack tensed, stood straight but said nothing. He did, however, walk with a little more purpose.
#
August 29, 1914
Fort Worth Star Telegram
Refuse Bail in Killing
Woman attempts to Swallow Broken Glass After Tragedy
Shooting in House
Jack Thompson Waives Preliminary Hearing on Murder Charge.
Jack Thompson, a horse trader, giving his address as Lampasas, was formally charged with murder Saturday morning, following the death late Friday of John West, 125 Maple street, from four pistol shot wounds. Thompson appeared before Justice Maben and waived examining trial and was remanded to jail without bond. J.J. Hurley, his attorney, would not say what his defense would be.
Bessie Williams, who is famous as a woman jail breaker, having escaped from the city jail only ten days ago by hammering a big steel door off its hinges with a rock, which she dug out of the wall, was a witness to the killing.
She was in the house, 125 Maple Street, Friday afternoon with West, whom she had known for several years, when Thompson came in, she said, in a signed statement. She had also known Thompson for a long time, she said. Both she and West tried to get Thompson to leave the house, she added. Finally West and Thompson quarreled, and Thompson left the place. In a few minutes, she said, she looked up and saw someone in the doorway. The shooting followed and West, who was sitting on the bed, fell back dead. Three bullets went into his chest, and a fourth struck him in the groin.
Small boys followed Thompson to the Delaware bar on Main Street, near Fourth. One of the boys tipped off his whereabouts to Patrolman Aiken. Thompson was leaning against the bar when Aiken stepped up behind him and grabbed a pistol away from him. Motorcycle Officers Langdon, Glosson and Davison, who had been in a chase for Thompson, came upon the scene a few minutes later. Thompson was sent to jail.
Sanitation Officer Ben Dollins was the first to arrive on the scene of the shooting, riding in a Robertson ambulance. He found the body of West sprawled on the bed, his head wrapped in a towel.
Woman Eating Glass
Bessie Williams was sitting on the side of the bed. She was screaming and was eating glass. Blood was flowing from her mouth where the glass had cut. She had taken a whiskey bottle and broken it, and then put the smaller pieces in a thick teacup and was pounding the glass into a powder. While officers were wrapping the body of West in a sheet, the woman poured the broken glass into her hand and then put it into her mouth. She tried to swallow parts of it, but couldn’t and was forced to spit it out again.
West’s body was sent to the Robertson’s morgue. Bessie Williams was sent to jail, but she threatened to break down the cell and officers put her in the dungeon on the men’s side of the jail.
The county attorney’s office took a statement from a woman in the Maple street neighborhood who said Thompson “shot up” her house about an hour before the killing of West. She said Thompson came into her home and demanded that she fix him his supper. She refused, she said, and he then took out his pistol and fired two shots into the floor at her feet.
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