What started out as mild curiosity about a woman put on trial for the murder of her husband, the acting mayor of Emporia, Kansas, soon turned into a four-year obsession as the facts unfolded—the most startling of which was that she was only sixteen at the time.
Each aspect of the search, each backgrounding of other characters in the drama revealed new scandals, new layers of venality—on the part not just of Minnie Wallace Walkup Ketcham Keating, but of those connected with her, as well. It was like pulling a loose thread from an old wool sweater: One thread led to another and another, and there was just no end to it. As an example, when I was writing the last chapter and tried once more to find the date of death for one of the characters, the avenue I took resulted in the discovery of yet another scam, this one by that character’s husband and with her knowledge.
Scalawags, scoundrels, scamps, women of easy virtue preying on rich men, a carpetbagger governor, sleazy lawyers, lustful judges, partying rich boys, dueling politicians, wealthy womanizers, a classic robber baron—all of these revolve around the central unifying figure of this black widow from New Orleans like a loosely knit band of Irish Travelers. If you saw these folks in a movie, you would scorn the director for presenting such improbable plot lines with characters right out of Central Casting. Yet they were real, and these events actually happened.
I began to realize that, while Minnie Walkup was the main character, the story went beyond her. To leave out some of those events would be to deprive the book of some very entertaining moments. Hence, The Adventuress is not just about Minnie, although it is mostly so. She is the fixed foot of the compass, to paraphrase John Donne, to which we always return no matter how far afield we roam.
For the most part, these were not nice people, not even those who were murdered. Although they certainly did not deserve to die, they cannot be considered completely innocent victims. And those who were schemed against for blackmail or confidence games all had a hand in their own destruction.
Another revealing aspect of this story is how we in the twenty-first century can learn about the mores and customs of the past. It is not the law that reflects this: It’s the newspapers and the people in a courtroom. If you want to learn how people were expected to behave in an earlier era, read a newspaper account of a high-profile trial and it will tell you everything you need to know about what was considered humorous, what was considered shocking, and what was considered indecorous, inappropriate behavior—not just in the reporters’ commentaries, but in their descriptions of the observers’ reactions.
Even if it’s not legal proof, people will always feel that certain things must be done in a certain way. It is expected that a widow will grieve for her husband, and when she does not do so visibly—whatever she might feel inside—she is judged as lacking in wifely devotion and therefore possibly guilty of the crime imputed to her. It is expected that women are by nature retiring and modest, and when they boldly put themselves forward and stare back at those staring at them, they are no better than streetwalkers, whatever their station in life.
In fact, in our story, it is primarily the actions of women that are the subject of intense scrutiny, whether they are victims, perpetrators, courtroom observers, or merely peripheral players. How they dressed, how they acted, how they talked, where they went, whom they went with, what they failed to do—all of these were analyzed and criticized, by women as well as men. For example, in explaining to a reporter why Minnie Walkup changed from her housedress to another dress before going to purchase arsenic with which to poison her husband, a female neighbor informed him that “ladies in Emporia do not go out on the street in a Mother Hubbard.”
Ever a favorite nineteenth-century murder-trial topic was the unseemly presence of women in the audience, especially if “unsuitable” topics such as sex were discussed. Reporters and editors were critical, sarcastic, amused, and outraged in turn, never failing to give the daily report of how many women were in attendance when they should have been home doing the laundry or preparing meals instead of listening to testimony of a shocking nature. There were definite double standards of behavior, and by far the stricter was applied to women.
Notice, for example, the difference in treatment of two con artists, one male and one female: Dethlef Hansen and Josephine Moffitt, both of whom made their living by preying on rich people. While Hansen is made the subject of ridicule, Moffitt is portrayed as evil and beneath contempt. The imposter, “Count Gregory,” who was much more successful at his thievery than Josephine Moffitt ever was, is regarded with bemusement even as he is being hauled off to jail.
A related topic is that of what is considered appropriate material to include in a newspaper read by women and children. Although there were plenty of both at the Walkup trial, some newspapers refused to include any testimony on topics constituting what was thought of as “smut.” Today’s reader would be astonished to know what was deemed unsuitable for publication in the Gilded Age.
In the end, though, it is the women who are the survivors in our story. Although we cannot condone their behavior, particularly the dispatching of rich husbands, it is just possible that they were rejecting the classical role of women as wives and mothers and carving out new “careers” for themselves that did not include millinery or stenography. In a telling bit of testimony at the Walkup trial, the prosecutor asks Minnie Walkup if she hadn’t known that the highest fulfillment for a woman was as a wife and mother, insinuating that of course she must have been aware of this. Minnie’s response is, “I don’t know that I regarded it that way.” Indeed, she did not.
The Gilded Age was one of extremes: extravagant wealth and abject poverty. Although some of the people in The Adventuress were rich, most were—while not really poor—way beneath that class, which they envied, emulated, and tried to access. They hung out on the fringes of the wealthy, gaining occasional admittance and taking advantage of their unsuspecting victims. The image of Josephine Moffitt, her nose pressed against the window of the restaurant as she watches the rich young men at their bachelor party before she enters to ply her trade is a visual representation of a major theme of The Adventuress.
This was an incredibly fascinating and yet incredibly frustrating project. The fascinating part should speak for itself in these pages. The frustration stemmed from the lack of answers to so many questions, and to make a smooth story I had no choice but to fill in some of the blanks with what was most likely the answer (with insignificant issues only), based on common sense and previous knowledge. In other cases, however, where the issues were of larger importance, I had to use qualifying terms such as “probably,” “most likely,” and “supposedly,” because the written record provided no help. I apologize for the many times I had to do that.
When people are quoted, the words are their own in approximately 90 percent of those instances. For another 8 percent, I took indirect statements and made them direct for a more interesting read. For the remaining 2 percent, I put words into their mouths based on their actions and what was most logical to have been said under the circumstances.
The facts herein were gleaned from a vast array of sources: multiple newspapers from Emporia, New Orleans, and Chicago, plus a smattering of articles from others around the country; vital records from all the locales concerned; reports from descendants; books and Internet articles dealing with peripheral or background items; probate, cemetery, and census records; and city directories. All of these had to be pulled together into a meaningful whole and as a check against the other sources. Readers can be assured that I did not make any of this up!
Although my own opinions as to what Minnie Walkup did and didn’t do are evident, I have provided the information you can use to make up your own mind. Whether you agree with me or not, I am hoping you will come to the conclusion that she and many of the people involved with her (whether directly or indirectly) were most interesting characters indeed and deserve to have their stories told.