October 26, 2007
Taissumani
Henry Howgate – Life on the Lam, Part Two
KENN HARPER
Henry Howgate had been an influential officer of the United States government, responsible for the planning of polar expeditions. But he had ripped off the government's coffers. When suspicions were raised, he had abruptly resigned his position and fled with his mistress.
By March, Howgate's scheme had largely been exposed and a warrant was issued for his arrest. He was traced to Michigan through money orders that he sent each month to his abandoned wife, Abigail. Arrested in August 1881, he was brought back to Washington. Initially released on $10,000 bail, he was thrown back in jail when evidence continued to pile up.
In jail awaiting trial, he lived a life of outrageous comfort, with furniture and books from both his homes, and regular visits from his wife, daughter, and mistress. Twice a week he was even allowed to go home, under escort, for a bath.
On April 13, 1882, Howgate was escorted to his mistress's house, ostensibly to study some papers that he would need for his defence. His daughter met him and his guard there and the three chatted amiably for a while. When Howgate absented himself to take his regular bath, Ida entertained the guard with a piano recital. But Howgate skipped the bath. He slipped out the back door and disappeared with Nettie who was waiting in a coach.
Howgate had resigned from the military, so he was a civilian not subject to military jurisdiction. But Robert Todd Lincoln, the Secretary of War, nonetheless decided that Howgate's freedom reflected badly on the War Department and on Lincoln himself. When the Secret Service reported that Howgate had been spotted in New Orleans, Lincoln provided money for two Secret Service operatives to stake out the house where Howgate and Nettie were suspected of living. But Howgate spotted the two men and left by a back door. He and Nettie headed for Nebraska.
Howgate had an old friend there, a former Signal Corps lieutenant, Albert S. Cole. Conveniently, he was now a lawyer.
Audaciously, Howgate now came up with a story that the government owed him money. He claimed that in 1880, when Greely's Lady Franklin Bay Expedition was being planned, and at the very time when Howgate was liberally helping himself to government money, he had personally provided $3,500 to buy more pemmican, official funds not being sufficient to cover what was required.
Cole prepared a claim on the government for that amount, Howgate assigned most of the amount to Cole, and promptly left for Escanaba, Michigan with Nettie. Conveniently, Cole waited until after Howgate's departure to date the claim and send it to Washington.
In Escanaba, Howgate assumed the name H. W. Harrison and got a job as a reporter, again through a friend. He remained there until late October of 1884. The editor conveniently waited until two weeks after his departure to inform officials that he had been there.
Back in Washington, Robert Todd Lincoln was irate, and offered a $1,000 reward for the capture of the elusive Howgate. Despairing that the Secret Service was up to the task of catching the fugitive, he also hired the Pinkerton detective agency, which sent investigators to Escanaba and to Nebraska. In Nebraska the investigators tried to bribe the lawyer, Cole, but he held out for a payment of $5,000, which Pinkerton refused. Strangely, Cole was never charged with obstruction of justice.
Continued next week.
Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
October 19, 2007
Taissumani
Henry Howgate – Life on the Lam, Part One
KENN HARPER
In each of my last two columns I wrote about the Howgate Preliminary Arctic Expedition, and how the expedition that was to follow never happened. And now, the outrageous story of Howgate himself.
Henry W. Howgate was the son of a wealthy British shopkeeper. He emigrated to the United States at the age of 21 and found work as a reporter. In 1862, with the Civil War raging, he joined the 22nd Michigan volunteers as a second lieutenant. A year later he was promoted to first lieutenant in the Signal Service. Out in 1866, he returned to Michigan, married and had a daughter.
In October of 1867 he joined the 20th Infantry of the regular army, then signed on to the staff of General Albert J. Myer, Chief of the Signal Corps in Washington.
General Myer was unwell and delegated a great deal of authority to Howgate. He made him property and disbursing officer for the Signal Corps, and later added responsibility for the planning of all polar expeditions.
This was a recipe for disaster. Howgate had begun a secret affair with his attractive secretary, Nettie Burrill, and Nettie had expensive tastes.
At his office in the Signal Corps, Howgate began falsifying vouchers for the payment of bills. Each month, he would take invoices, some legitimate, others his own inventions, to Myers, who dutifully approved them. Howgate then prepared the payments and forged the signatures of various payees, and pocketed the money. Some individual bills were in excess of $5,000.
With his ill-gotten gains, he built a large home for Nettie. Amazingly, it was only a few blocks from the home in which he lived with his wife, Abigail, and his daughter, Ida. Abigail believed that Henry travelled a great deal in the course of his work. About once a week he went out of town - or so she thought. In fact, he usually travelled only a few blocks and spent his time with Nettie.
Howgate also became a serious book collector. On the occasions when he actually did leave town, he would often return with a rare book or manuscript, and eventually built up a valuable private library. To curious friends, he would explain that his father in England had passed away and left him a large inheritance.
In 1878, General Myers became very ill. At about the same time, it became known that the financial affairs of the Signal Corps were not in good shape. Embezzlement was suspected, in the range of close to half a million dollars, a huge sum at that time. Two years later Myers died and Henry Howgate became Acting Chief Signal Officer.
Hoping that he would be able to cover up his financial misdemeanours, Howgate put himself forward as a candidate to replace Myers. He was charismatic, dark-haired and stood well over six feet tall. He had a stylish moustache and an air of self-assurance. He was well-known and influential, both within government and in Washington social circles.
When his own Lady Franklin Bay expedition failed in 1878, Howgate had not given up his dream of a major American expedition to the High Arctic. When planning for the first International Polar Year began, Howgate once again advanced the idea of an expedition to Lady Franklin Bay as one of the contributions of the United States to the international scientific initiative.
This time, the idea was taken up and resulted in the expedition that would be led by Adolphus Greely in 1881. In 1880 planning was well underway for it, and central to that planning was Henry Howgate. This, he thought, should stand him in good stead to secure the position of Chief Signal Officer. And he had the support of many Boards of Trade and Chambers of Commerce.
But Colonel William Babcock Hazen (after whom Lake Hazen on Ellesmere Island would be named) was even more well-connected politically than was Howgate. In December of 1880, President Hayes passed over Howgate and nominated Hazen for the position. Three days later, knowing that Hazen would certainly investigate the allegations of fiscal impropriety in the service, Howgate abruptly resigned his post. Leaving wife and daughter behind, he and Nettie left for Michigan.
Continued next week.
Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
October 12, 2007
Taissumani
The Howgate Preliminary Arctic Expedition – Part 2
KENN HARPER
In the spring the disadvantages of Tyson's choice of wintering harbour became apparent. His ship was firmly locked in the grip of the ice, while the ships which had wintered closer to the mouth of the sound had been released from their harbours and were already whaling. By the time the Florence was free, there was no time for whaling.
When the ship left harbour it carried 10 Inuit (four men, two women and four children) who had agreed to relocate to Ellesmere Island. They were: Nepeken and his family, Etetun and his family, a man nicknamed Chummy, and Alokee.
We don't know a lot about these people. From these and other sources, we know that Nepeken had worked for other whalers, and apparently successfully, for Captain Keeny of the Isabella had given him a whaleboat as a reward for his services the year before. He was about 45 to 48 years of age and had adopted or been given the name "Tyson."
The real Tyson explained: "When the ships first commenced to winter in the gulf, some twenty-five years ago, the captains who hired the Esquimaux - and they all did so - finding it difficult to recollect their native cognomens, would give them English names; as, Tom, Charley, Dick, or Harry, and others, again, which were not quite so euphonious to the ear. This youngster, whose real name was Nepeken, was baptized Tyson; I know not for what reason, unless it was because he was so handsome!"
Nepeken was a great hunter - Tyson called him "the Nimrod of the gulf." American captains vied for his services and he was the boss of a boat's crew. His wife was Ocaseakju and she was also "good with the rifle and the spear," being a capable hunter of deer, seal and polar bear.
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The couple had two adopted children. One of them was a boy of about five, named Asseewer - probably the Inuit name Aasivak. The whalers had nicknamed him ‘Boatswain'. And Tyson noted, "I know that he can chew and smoke equal to an old tar." He added, "They commence young in this country. I have seen some of the little girls, not older than this boy, chewing and smoking tobacco."
Etetun's wife was Kimikpakjic, called Polly by the whalers. She gave birth to a baby on board the ship on May 1, 1878. We know nothing more about this little family.
Alokee was single and had expressed a desire to get a wife before he left on the expedition. Chummy (whose real name was Shumarpinguter) was apparently single, and trusted Tyson implicitly, having been to the United States for a winter with him in 1861.
The Florence put in to Kekerten on July 16 to pick up skins, and Tyson noted, "We were employed today preparing a place in the vessel's hold for the Esquimaux to live during the passage to Greenland." While there he picked up one more man, three women, and 2 children, making a total of five each of men, women and children ("and I think that will be enough," he noted), along with 30 dogs and a number of sleds. After a quick stop at Blacklead Island, the Florence left for Greenland.
Tyson and the Inuit received a surprise when the small vessel reached Godhavn. The governor had left orders that no-one from the ship should be allowed ashore. Apparently the captain of a Scottish vessel had informed the governor of the impending arrival of the Florence, and said that the Inuit and the crew were all diseased.
Eventually the order was rescinded and a brief visit was made ashore. The Inuit from Baffin Island were fascinated to meet Greenlanders and to visit the local church and school. (It would be almost two decades yet before the first mission was begun in Cumberland Sound.)
The governor had another surprise for Tyson. He had been informed that the expedition to Lady Franklin Bay had been postponed. There would be no ship coming from America to rendezvous with Tyson at Godhavn. Tyson waited for three weeks. Finally he concluded that the report was correct and returned to Cumberland Sound.
On September 2, Tyson discharged his Inuit recruits. "I gave them one boat, four guns, all the remaining ammunition, two opera-glasses, one suit of clothing each, nearly all of the Danish bread we bought at Disco, some little molasses, and one tent," he wrote. Thus the first scheme to relocate Inuit in Canada ended with no result.
Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
October 5, 2007
Taissumani
The Howgate Preliminary Arctic Expedition – Part 1
KENN HARPER
On Aug. 13, 1877 an unusual expedition left New London, Connecticut, bound for Cumberland Sound on the south-eastern coast of Baffin Island. Known officially as the Howgate Preliminary Arctic Expedition, it was to be the first stage of a much grander enterprise planned by Captain Henry W. Howgate of the United States Army.
Howgate had been inspired by the recent British expedition to the High Arctic led by George Nares. With two ships, Nares had tried to reach the North Pole by way of Smith Sound, the narrow channel separating Ellesmere Island from Greenland. His ship, the Alert, had reached Floeberg Beach on Ellesmere Island, a point farther north than any other vessel had ever gone, and wintered there. His companion ship, the Discovery, had wintered at the appropriately-named Discovery Harbour on the north side of Lady Franklin Bay.
Howgate thought that Americans should do one better than the British. He wanted to establish a permanent scientific colony at Lady Franklin Bay in 1878. For that, he would need Inuit - for he knew that none lived that far north - and dogs and skin clothing.
And so a plan was hatched that a preliminary expedition would travel to Cumberland Sound the year before and winter there. It would be under the command of Captain George Tyson, a whaler well-known to the Inuit of the sound. During the winter, Tyson would hire Inuit who were willing to relocate to Ellesmere Island, and collect supplies. The following summer, Tyson and his party would rendezvous with a larger American vessel at Godhavn in Greenland, and continue on to Ellesmere Island.
Two scientists would accompany the preliminary expedition. Because the entire scheme was underfunded, it was planned that Tyson would also hunt whales to support the venture financially. The expedition, aboard the tiny vessel, Florence, reached Cumberland Sound in September. She headed first to Niantilic, a popular destination for whalers on the southern coast of the sound.
But Tyson learned that four whaling ships were planning to winter there, and two others at Kekerten on the north side of the sound. He knew that both were popular wintering places because early ice breakup would allow spring whaling. But the competition for trade would not augur well for the success of his efforts to acquire skin clothing and encourage Inuit to join his expedition.
So he decided that, if he wanted to trade with the Inuit, he would have to be farther up the sound. He put into winter quarters on Oct. 7 at the head of the sound at a place the whalers knew as Ananito Harbour, or Annanatook Harbour, the place later spelled by Franz Boas as Anarnitung.
The two scientists immediately set to work. Tyson busied himself collecting skin clothing for the Ellesmere Land expedition, purchasing dogs, and convincing Inuit to relocate. Only three Inuit families had been living at Anarnitung when the Florence made anchor there.
But over the winter, it became a popular destination for Inuit coming to trade with Tyson. Tyson has left a short description of his efforts to get Inuit to accompany him. (I use Tyson's unusual spelling of Inuit names throughout.)
"I have had several conversations with the Esquimaux in regard to their going with us to... the coast of Greenland. Some say they will go; others fear to go. The latter are afraid of the "mulling" (sea) in such a little vessel as the Florence. Others, again, have mothers who do not want them to go; then, again, brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts and cousins, and I do not know what else.
"Nepeken has promised to go; also Obetun, Thunupingnar, Inuemarket, and Alokee, making five in all. I have also the promise of several at Niantilic; but heaven only knows what the spring will bring forth. If so many vessels were not there, I could handle the natives better. Now I pretend indifference whether they go or not."
To be continued next week.
Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
