Introduction

In 1937, a book appeared entitled Shanghai, The Paradise of Adventurers. The book depended on but also supported the town’s association as a place that attracted roguish characters. The book observed how the word ‘adventurer’ had acquired a fresh meaning. ‘Adventurer is pictured to us as an expert exploiter, a clever trickster, a cunning deceiver, a cheater at the game of life.’ Yet, English press reports during the nineteenth century already used the word in that manner. It featured in the public post-mortem held into the unsavoury acts of Colonel Waugh, a trickster who had floated through society during the 1850s. In the middle of that decade, the Colonel had seen Bournemouth as an opportunity, but other conmen and adventurers also fluttered towards the resort’s flame.

‘A similar game at Bournemouth’

Unpaid bills

As 1846 turned to the next year, the press carried details of one James Warburton, committed for trial at the next Wiltshire Quarter Sessions. The lengthy account provided details of how this adventurer swindled hotels or taverns. He had arrived at the Crown Inn, Devizes, and asked for a chicken dinner. Prior to arrival he had gone coursing, damaging his footwear and splitting his trousers. The Crown sent these to a cobbler and a tailor. He ordered a large breakfast in his room next morning but did not appear until late afternoon. There occurred some business involving the Crown’s boots, but Warburton gave him the slip and boarded the coach, leaving behind his bills unpaid.

Missing silver spoons

He worked a different routine at the Bear, Melksham, although, once again, he ordered a dinner. This time a servant found that a silver mustard spoon had gone missing. Later, accompanying his order for bread and milk, a second spoon came into question. Calling for the bill and a glass of brandy, he left the tavern without payment, this second spoon in his possession. On apprehension, he admitted to one spoon not his property. A later search found the other spoon in his possession as well as other dubious items. At the hearing, the Chairman of the sessions refused to accept his plea of intemperance, scolding Warburton for his behaviour once having been ‘connected with some very respectable houses, and entrusted with money to a large amount’. The sentence amounted to a year’s hard labour. ‘He is supposed to have played a similar game at Bournemouth.’

The company of thieves

The tile-maker’s debts

In the spring of 1853, the Poole and Dorset Herald warned Bournemouth’s traders. Henry Corbin planned to leave Ringwood for Bournemouth. Described as a vase and tazza manufacturer, Corbin behaved as an adventurer. He had stayed in Ringwood for six months, where he spun various credible stories to the local traders allowing him to build up sizeable debts. In due course, he abandoned them and left, failing to pay his rent also. The story entered a suitable bewildering phase next: claims of mistaken identity and press apologies. A man of this name, a Bournemouth resident, had called at their office refuting details of his Ringwood episode, claiming all debts paid. Two years earlier, however, a man of this name had petitioned Hampshire County Court for insolvency protection. In 1855, one Henry Corbin drowned off Brownsea Island, an employee at Colonel Waugh’s tile works.

The Colonel’s debts

Colonel and Mrs Waugh obtained quality local press coverage during the mid 1850s. Their name glittered amongst titled locals and other society leaders, patrons of Bournemouth’s Sanatorium. They offered their home, Brownsea Castle, as a site for charity bazaars. In addition to restoring the Castle, the Colonel established on the island a tile-works of promise. Eight years later, the national press offered an alternate Colonel Waugh: the adventurer. Notoriety replaced fame. The tile-works had swallowed £144,000 of investors’ money. The Colonel had also looted the London and Eastern Bank for twice that amount. Other frauds had occurred. Prior to arrest in London, he had abandoned Brownsea Island for a Continental tour. The Brownsea project’s failure had endangered many local suppliers. An account described how ‘the “spirited” Colonel Waugh stalked pompously through its magnificent terraces, endless avenues, and perfumed groves’. He also attracted the description of an ‘adventurous gentleman’.

A more accomplished adventurer

It started in Bournemouth …..

Chevalier Henry Wickoff practised a different type of deceit to Colonel Waugh. One account described Wickoff as a ‘cosmopolitan, globe-trotting rogue, professional gossip and amateur undercover reporter for the New York Herald’. In other words, an adventurer. The press story could have supported a glossy caper movie. The adventure, running from Bournemouth to Genoa, would have captivated contemporary readers. Wickoff had targeted the American heiress, Miss Gamble. Although the two had a prior acquaintance, news of her substantial inheritance spurred Wickoff into action. Accompanied by a female friend and the latter’s daughter, in 1851 or early 1852 Miss Gamble came to Bournemouth, the affluent resort. Wickoff announced himself in dramatic fashion just prior to their dinner. The women invited him to join them. ‘Ten days glided pleasantly away,’ at the conclusion of which Wickoff presented her with a letter offering marriage. She rejected him.

It ended in Genoa …

Wickoff left, but, in her subsequent trip to the Continent, he appeared at several points, repeating his marriage offer. The story continued. Rejection followed rejection. Fantastic episodes occurred. For example, at one point, Wickoff dressed as ‘Mrs Austin’ in order to gain admittance to his target. At Turin, a landlady suspected Miss Gamble and Wickoff of collusion and asked her to leave. In the end, perhaps desperation rising or funds diminishing, at Genoa, Wickoff took matters to a more serious level. He kidnapped the girl. Only her agreement to marriage would give her release. She complied to obtain her escape, but the next morning reported matters to the British Consul, who contacted the police. Wickoff did prison time. Later, back in the USA, this adventurer appears to have generated further scandal by becoming part of Mary Lincoln’s circle at the White House.

Takeaway

In Tess of the D’Urbervilles, published in the 1890s, Thomas Hardy brought the girl to Sandbourne, a disguise for Bournemouth. He characterised the town as a ‘pleasure city’ of ‘glittering novelty’. The activities of the men discussed here suggest this attractive association had existed for perhaps a half century already. It seems appropriate that Chevalier Wickoff would choose to begin his pursuit of Miss Gamble in such a setting. Colonel Waugh saw Bournemouth society and traders as ready targets for his ransacking. Warburton and Corbin followed the same route, although with less glamour; not quite the same class of adventurer. Some at Bournemouth might decry their town’s attraction to such people, but others might have seen it as good for business. What visitors, provided they could keep one hand on their wallets, would turn down the chance to rub shoulders with an adventurer?

References

• G. E. Miller, Shanghai, The Paradise of Adventurers (New York, 1937), p. 8.
• Globe, Friday 01 January, 1847, p. 4 (James Warburton).
• Poole & Dorset Herald, Thursday 05 May, 1853, p. 8 (Henry Corbin).
• Hampshire Advertiser, Saturday 11 January, 1851, p. 1 (Henry Corbin’s bankruptcy in Southampton).
• Poole & Dorset Herald, Thursday 12 May, 1853, p. 8 (more than one Henry Corbin?).
• Poole & Dorset Herald, Thursday 01 February, 1855, p. 8 (drowning of ‘Mr Henry Corbin, a modeller, who is in the employ of Colonel Waugh’).
• https://wilkiecollinssociety.org/newsletter-winter-2013/ (summary of Colonel Waugh’s swindling).
• Birmingham Journal, Saturday 14 February, 1863, p. 6 (‘gorgeous Oriental banking scheme of Colonel Waugh and his associates’).
• http://www.mrlincolnswhitehouse.org/residents-visitors/marys-charlatans/marys-charlatans-chevalier-henry-wikoff-1813-1884/ (review of Henry Wikoff).
• London Daily News, Saturday 10 April, 1852, p. 3 (Henry Wikoff’s pursuit of Miss Gamble).
• Thomas Hardy, Tess of the D’Urbervilles, chapter 55 (Sandbourne).