We Wuz Robbed (But not by Jesse James)

I'm working on the chapter of my book with this title, in which I introduce the character of my great-grandmother Minerva Parke Phelps Russel.  She was a Wellesley graduate, alleged genealogist, and even more alleged Southern belle. (She was more Wellesley than belle, much like a certain former first lady turned Secretary of State.) After her cousin Nettie died in childbirth, Minerva snatched up the much-older widower, John Hooe Russel, known in his youth as the dandy of White Sulfur Springs.

Prior to his marriage to Minerva, Russel was president of a bank in Huntington, West Virginia. His middle name was pronounced, most unfortunately, as “Ho.”  One day just after he headed out for lunch, his bank was robbed by masked gunmen, and Russel and a posse mounted up and chased the bandits.  (None of whom was named Jesse James.)  Minerva told it a little differently.  In her account, Jesse and his boys first cased the joint by pretending to stage a revivalist meeting.  My great-grandfather then ran into Jesse exiting the bank and realized he was no preacher when the gunman swore at him, saying "Well, young man, you are damned late for business!" Great stuff, right?  Too bad not a word of it was true.

Although I have Minerva's signed affidavit that both Jesse and Frank James were present in Huntington, most historians now seem to agree that the foursome consisted of Frank James, Cole Younger, Tom Webb, and Tom McDaniels.  McDaniels was killed by the posse. Webb, also known as Jack Keane, was captured shortly thereafter and served a number of years in prison. 

The three Younger brothers were wounded and captured a year later in what is now known as the James gang's Waterloo, the failed attempt to rob the First National Bank of Northfield, Minnesota.  Photos of the dead and wounded bank robbers were sent to my great-grandfather for identification, and later turned into souvenir postcards.  (The living were photographed fully clothed, but the dead were stripped to the waist with still-bleeding bullet holes displayed. The postcards terrified me as a child.  Ghoulish stuff.)