Trip to Carlisle, Illinois, to unravel a fraudulent claim—John H. Ing.

We closed our headquarters in December, 1865, packing all records in finely arranged cabinets, which were then transferred to the War Department in Washington.

When my relation with the government was terminated, through the instrumentality of General Woolley (Woolley had recently been brevetted), I was engaged by Mr. Archibald Sterling, an attorney (a prominent Union man), to go to southern Illinois to ravel out a contested will case. The contestants were a group of neighbors, headed by a shrewd woman.

If I remember right, under the Maryland laws, if a child died before maturity, there was no inheritance. Mr. Sterling claimed that the young man was not of age when he died, and that he died in 1835; but he had no evidence to prove it. He had only a death notice clipped from some paper with no date on it. But he had an anonymous letter signed: "Veritas," postmarked at Carlisle, Illinois, in which the writer, for a consideration, offered to put Sterling in possession of evidence that would defeat the claim; this letter was a few months old. Mr. Sterling could not comply. He could pay for no evidence without compromising his clients. With these facts only and equipped with the following letter of introduction, I started West:

The field was entirely new to me. All the way to Cincinnati and the rest of the way to Carlisle, Illinois, I put in much of my time in speculating as to the best course to adopt on landing in a small town, among a lot of villagers, who were banded together in this scheme. My name was to be Comings, and I came from New York; that was all settled in my mind; but what was my business there? I expected to be there a few days, and there was the rub; finally, after failing to fix up a story I concluded to "keep mum," entirely. Later you will see the fix which that conclusion came near leading me into.

I arrived there at night. I asked the landlord not to put me high up in the hotel, and he didn't; I learned the next morning that the hotel was only two stories high. I lounged about the tavern and the village two or three days, making myself aware of the surroundings. I tramped out to the fork of the Kaskaskia river, where the affidavits alleged the boy was buried in 1836. The river was a muddy little brook. No grave was to be found, but some little distance away was a burying ground. I went there searching for the grave. I found it not, but lying up against a fence was a headstone having the boy's name on it, and the date of his death.

In walking about the village I had many times passed the residence of the woman who had framed up the claim; she had noticed me. I wrote one of my old officers in Baltimore to wire me, in language about like this:

I instructed him to sign John H. Ing's name to it. Mr. Ing was this woman's attorney.

Equipped with this telegram I would be prepared to introduce myself to the woman as apparently having come there in the interest of Mr. Ing, her attorney, to look over the ground to see if matters alleged in the affidavits were susceptible of demonstration.

While waiting for the telegram I obtained the confidence of the postmaster. I impressed him that I was an agent of the Post Office Department, seeking to learn if he remembered a letter coming to his office addressed to "Veritas" (Sterling had replied to Veritas); he, having the too frequent curiosity of a village postmaster, said he remembered it well, and told me who the recipient was, and where he lived. He promised to keep secret my mission, and he did.

Mr. Truesdale, the proprietor of the tavern, kept horses, and I hired him to carry me to this man's house, quite a drive of three or four miles. On our way I found it desirable to seek his confidence too, and impress him I was an agent of the Post Office Department, etc. Mr. Truesdale seemed much relieved. He then told me he was so glad to know my true character. Being the only "unaccounted for" man in the village, I had been the object of suspicion, which, unrelieved, might have proven uncomfortable.

Carlisle was on the edge of the prairie. Live stock (marked) ran wild, until taken in; much had been stolen. A vigilance committee had been organized to punish the thieves. These people were about to conclude that the only "unaccounted for" man about was the "look out" for the thieves. Truesdale was wonderfully pleased to stand sponsor for me to them, without divulging my mission. Keeping perfectly mum came close to being poor judgment under these circumstances.

I saw Mr. "Veritas" and had a private talk with him. He promised to meet me in Carlisle the next day, which he did. Before communicating the information which he said he had, which comprised the name of the storekeeper who sold the material used for preparing the coffin in 1836, and who had books to sustain the statement, he demanded a promise in writing to pay him a large sum of money. Having a smattering of "legal lore" I drew up a bond to pay the required amount, in event of success. I kept a copy of the bond to show Mr. Sterling. It was signed by "George Comings." It was satisfactory to Mr. "Veritas," and he in an impressive manner wrote on a piece of paper, in large bold letters, the storekeeper's name: PARMENUS BOND. We agreed to drive over to Mr. Parmenus Bond's place the next day, and we did.

I found Parmenus to be very old, over eighty. He confirmed the statement after he learned Mr. "Veritas's" greed had been satisfied. (I guess he was to divide with the old gentleman, in fact.)

Having disposed of this part I was ready to use the telegram I had received, meantime, upon the woman schemer. I called upon her, presenting my telegram from Ing. She was charmed to meet me, saying she had observed my presence about the village. I told her I had surveyed the ground pretty well. I asked her about the tombstone, where did she get it? She said she got it from Harrisburg, Pa. (about one thousand miles away), and would have it set up in the spring, I advised her that I concluded the evidence was presentable, provided her witnesses all stayed in line. She assured me that they would, as they all had a money interest in it, in the event of success. We then parted, and it did not take me long to get out of town. I went to St. Louis, thence to Baltimore.

When I arrived in Baltimore, I at once called on Mr. Sterling, but had to introduce myself, I was so unkempt, and my apparel so dirty. He was anxious to know my report; I told him I had the evidence but had to agree to pay for it. His face was a sight. He concluded I had ruined his case. I handed him the copy of my bond, "George Comings's" bond, assuring him that "Veritas" would have a difficult time finding the bondsman; that he would not want to find him until after success, that he would not speak of it in Carlisle, for his life. Mr. Sterling then laughed heartily. I made a full report, advised Mr. Sterling to call in Mr. Ing confidentially, and show him his fix. The claim was withdrawn, and "George Comings" was never called upon to settle.

The use by me of Colonel John H. Ing's name was not unwarranted. I had previously had a "run in" with him, which led me to believe that he was a criminal party in this scheme. At one time he was deprived of the right to practice before military tribunals in our Department, because of unprofessional actions. He appealed to General Wallace, who referred the matter to me to make an examination. Pending the examination a lunch was given at which Ing and I were present. I presume the lunch was to give Ing a chance to reach me.

He tried to, but the lunch did not answer its purpose. Upon my report he was practically disbarred from practice in military courts, based upon the evidence obtained. Therefore when I met his name in connection with this case I felt warranted in assuming he was the "promoter" of it. The use of his name was not forgery. He was deprived by it of nothing except, perhaps, an "unearned increment."