Quincy Daily Whig

Quincy, IL

March 12, 1880

An interesting account of the arrival of Clarence E. Davis,
the bigamist, in Chicago, is given elsewhere in THE WHIG to-day. He was met by his Quincy wife and his Detroit wife, between whom there was a somewhat lively scene. A Mrs. Mary Ann Davis, of Brandtford, Ont., who also claims to be his wife, reached Chicago to-day; another woman who resides at Elkhart, Ind., says she is the true and only lawful Mrs. Clarence E. Davis, and that her husband ran away from Elkhart with another woman four years ago. A gentleman in Malden, Greene county, N. Y., whites to the superintendent of police of Chicago his belief that this is same Davis who married Miss Lizzie Von Hoosen, of that place, last August, while he had a wife living at Highland Falls near West Point, and another living in Bl_cker street, New York. It is claimed, in addition, that Davis has still another wife in Minnesota; and there are several states and territories from which no returns have been received. If all of these wives can be gathered together in Chicago, and Davis can be convicted of bigamy on each count, he will not live long enough to serve his term of imprisonment in the penitentiary. The penalty is imprisonment from one to five years and a fine of not less than $1,000. It is reported that Davis has taken two degrees in Free masonry, is a Knight of Pythias, an Odd Fellow, and one of the order of Red Men.
The Chicago Inter-Ocean of Thursday has the following: Clarence E. Davis, alias G. L. Closson, the fascinating drummer and alleged bigamist, of whom so much has been written during the past week, arrived here from Albany last night in charge of Detective John D. Shea. It was pretty well known that a wife or tow would be on hand to confront him when he reached central station, and a lively time was expected. Only one wife was present, but that injured lady made things as lively as any one could want. The train was due at 7:40 o'clock, but was considerably late, not arriving until 8:20. The forty minutes' wait was not uninteresting. In the superintendent's room sat chief O'Donnell, spectacles on nose, silently poring over some documents. A few feet from him, engaged in a newspaper, was a tall, well dressed, gray-bearded, dignified old man ? Mr. Cleveland, the step-father of the prisoner's last victim, Miss Clara Lynch-Cleveland, with whom he eloped from Quincy Feb. 18, and married here a few days later. Seated in a chair back against the east wall, and wrapped in thought, was Mrs. Cleveland ? the girl's mother ? a pleasant-looking, neatly dressed, composed lady. Beside her, but unacquainted, was another lady. She sat in the shadow, and, by a casual glance, it could only be seen that while not handsome in feature, she was attractive of fine form and richly dressed. A dark, narrow satin skirt was matched by a velvet bodice of the same color. Thrown around the shoulders was a China shawl, and a seal-skin hat surmounted a wealth of dark hair, dressed in a coil. This was Mrs. Mattie Davis, known and referred to heretofore, as the DETROIT WIFE.
She learned of the Quincy elopement from the papers, came on here and has been stopping with her sister, Mrs. Sherman, at 109 Fifth avenue. She was married to Davis in Toledo, Ohio, in October, 1871, and has lived with him in various places, principally London, Can., and Detroit, Mich., up to within a couple of weeks ago, when he started off on one of his journeys. She has her marriage certificate, was never divorced, and had no suspicion of his infidelity and villainy. Shortly after their marriage she found some letters in his possession signed Emma Strong, and inquired about them. He said they were from his divorced wife, and confided to her that he had had domestic differences. He was a kind and affectionate, but extravagant, self-indulgent husband, and the result was, she was a perfect drudge at home. She only had one decent dress ? the one she wore ? and never went to any entertainments; in fact, hardly ever left her house except to go to church Sundays. She had two children by him.
Miss Lynch, the last Mrs. Davis, so far as heard from, was not present.
At 8:30 o'clock the door at the LaSalle street entrance to police headquarters was opened and slammed to, hurrying footsteps were heard along the hall, and the reportorial men, knowing what was coming, felt for a pencil, and standing back surveyed the waiting group. A moment more and the door of the chief's room opened, and John D. Shea ushered in Clarence E. Davis.
He wore a grey overcoat, cut long, and deeply trimmed at collar, cuffs, edge, and bottom with sealskin, a shiny plug hat, straw-colored kid gloves, and a deep red neck scarf. As he dropped to the floor a light leather valise, recovered himself, and simultaneously took a vicious pull at a cigarette and an inquiring glance at the gathering, it was also remarked that his pants and boots were faultless. He had scarcely entered and dropped that valise before it commenced.
"Oh, my husband. Clarence, what does this mean?" and the Detroit wife sprang from her chair and rushed to throw herself into his arms.
"Stop," he hissed between his teeth, without removing the cigarette. And seizing her roughly by the wrist he held her at arm's length.
"Clarence, Clarence, you will drive me mad," she cried, and tried to soften him, but he only repeated, "Stop," and then shaking her threateningly, "STOP, I SAY."
Here Detective Shea stepped between them and pointed to a private room, into which Davis hurried, apparently glad to get there. When Mrs. Davis sprang to her husband's side her shawl dropped from her shoulders to the floor. When her cool consort sought the seclusion of that private room she staggered to a window, and, gazing outward and upward, wailed: "My God! So cold to me! I could have borne anything but that. What shall I do? What shall I do?"
There is no doubt that she quickly made up her mind what to do, for she choked down on her sobs, and going to the private room asked to be allowed to see her husband: While leaning against the window, some one had seen something suspicious in the pocket back of her dress. As she entered the little room, Chief O'Donnell reached around and took from said pocket a very respectable Smith & Wesson revolver. This weapon gone, she loosed her tongue. The imperious "Stop," a half-dozen times repeated, had no effect; she made him talk back, and then had the best of him. A well known government employee, a man who has grown gray in the service, sat in the outer room. When that scorned woman had spoken ten minutes, that official removed his hat, and wiping great drops of dew from his forehead, he hoarsely murmured, "This is awful; I would rather have ten years in the penitentiary than ten minutes of that," and he rushed out into the air.
Man and wife indulged in recrimination of the bitterest kind. The conversation was fragmentary, and took this shape:
"May God forgive you, Clarence Davis-"
"Mrs. Davis, you are nothing to me, I-"
"How can you say that, Clarence, when only last Wednesday week you left me with kisses on my lips and protestations of love. Oh, Clarence-"
"I have long wished to be rid of you, but did not do as I might, because my people are respectable-"
"Your people respectable? All your brothers are drunkards and gamblers; that I do know."
"Mattie, I have suffered enough-"
"Suffered? Who have suffered the most, you or the poor women you have wronged and deceived. I know now that when you left me last Wednesday week you went right off to the other girl every one is talking of. You are a good talker and have a pleasant face, and that has ruined all us women. You have no heart and no conscience. Where are my clothes?"
"YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME. You are married to Nash, of Oshkosh." (This was evidently Davis's trump card, for he hit the table with his fist, and almost split it.)
       "It is false, Clarence Davis, and you know it. I ask you, where are my clothes? All sold to enable you to live well while I drudged at home taking care of those two children, and the little one sick - perhaps dying now. And then to think you should wrong me this way ? (Here the wrought-up woman gave way to tears, but recovered and resumed). My sealskin cap you stole from me and made a present of to that girl, and my sealskin jacket you had cut up to trim that coat you are wearing ? that coat you wore when you were married to that girl. My furniture you mortgaged, too, and then, Clarence Davis, you say you have suffered. I heartily wish you had been kept in Ludlow street jail when you were there."
"I've nothing to say to you. I've been true to my God, and a fool to - ."
"Bah. Did God ever have anything to do with you? I think not. You meet me here coldly with a lie on your lips. You have no soul."
This could not go on forever, and in a little while more the deceived wife swept from the room. Davis was soon alone. He had removed his overcoat and hat but retained the cigarette. He is a little man, about 5 feet 4 inches in height; slightly bald; good-looking; hair parted in the middle; mutton-chop whiskers and mustache of a light color; handsome for a small man, but uses bad grammar. He had no statement to make excepting that he was innocent, wanted to see a lawyer, would produce "documentary" evidence to prove he was a victim, and feared he would lose his situation. He produced the first installment of his "documentary" evidence in the shape of a testimonial from the lock-up keeper and porter of the jail he was confined in in Albany, to the effect that he had behaved himself well there, and exposed his willingness at all times to go to Chicago without trouble. Then what kept Detective Shea there four days fighting a writ of habeas corpus?
While the reporter was talking to Davis in the private room, a lively scene was going on on LaSalle street.
Indignant at something Mrs. Mattie Davis had said regarding the conduct of Davis and Miss Lynch-Cleveland before that marriage, the parties no sooner reached the sidewalk than Mrs. Cleveland flew at Mrs. Davis in a great passion, and endeavored to assault her, after the manner of women, aiming at the eyes, hair, clothing, etc. Mrs. D. was very good on the defensive, however, and the irate mother was secured and led away before she had accomplished anything more than giving Mrs. Davis's male escort a couple of slaps in the face. The language used by the ladies was more expressive than refined.
The First wife's letter, Justice Kaufmann received the following letter yesterday.
"Brantford, March 7, 1880. - DEAR SIR: Having received a letter form my brother Richard Madigan, Crosse Isle, Mich., that Clarence E. Davis has been arrested on a charge of bigamy, which is my husband, which he married me sixteen years ago, has a son of 15 years old, and by all accounts I am his first wife, and his father and himself agreed to give me a bill of divorce and $500, but have received none as yet. Now please let me know what is best for me to do while you have him arrested. I have been trying to find him and have a settlement this eight years, and he always kept out of my way. If Clarence E. Davis is in there in Chicago prison, show this to him and see if he knows the name, and if you like you can send this to Mr. Cleveland, Quincy, Ill., and let him see what a villain he is. Do not take his word, as he would swear black & white, for he has done it with me. No more at present. Please answer soon, and advise me what is best to do. I remain truly.
Mrs. Mary Ann Davis,
C-o John Madigan, Brantford, Ont. Canada

Personal City
       Mrs. A Morris and Mr. H. D. Rogers, of Kansas City, arrived at the Tremont this morning.
       John P. Hanley, of Chicago, Charles P. Hig is of St. Louis, and John W. Richards of Philadelphia, are at the Tremont.
       J. A. Lamb, the paper man of Chicago, is in town to remain over Sunday.
       County Clerk Hazelwood has gone on a visit to friends in Missouri.

TRIBUTE OF RESPECT
       Whereas, It has pleased the Almighty to remove from our midst by death, our loved and honored professional  brother Dr. M. Shepherd, we deem it a fit occasion to express our regard for his worth as a kind, true and faithful physician and a genial, warm-hearted and confiding friend; therefore, be it.
       That in the death of Dr, Shepherd the medical profession loses one of its most faithful, earnest, and successful members, the church one of its staunch supporters, the community one of it most useful and valuable citizens, and his family an affectionate and indulgent father.
       Resolved, that while we would not intrude upon private griefs we nevertheless desire to convey to the family of the deceased our most sincere and heart felt sympathy in this hour of their severe trial and bereavement.
       Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be furnished the Quincy papers and the Adams County News

P. M. Parker
Wm. Dillon
J. F. Crooker
E. C. King

BREVITIES

       The contract for building the levee in the Indian Grave district has been awarded to J. W. Summers, of Keokuk.
       F. W. Jansen & Sons have received an order for a car load of furniture to be shipped to Boulder City, Colo., and another to Laramie.
       The Democratic city committee last evening elected M. Farrell chairman, Harry Swimmer secretary, and Henry Steinkamp treasurer, The city primary will be called at a meeting to be held next thursday.
       



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Transcribed by Debbie Gibson
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