history – If there is something

Queen of the Con: Buda Godman Marries Tell Taylor

Safely ensconced at convent school in Adrian, Michigan, Buda Godman was midway through her time at St. Joseph’s Academy when a group of travelling players came through town. It was Christmas Eve and the students were allowed to give a late supper. One of the invited guests was Mr. Tell Taylor, a young actor and aspiring songwriter from Findlay, Ohio. He sat across the table from Buda Godman and the pair seemed to hit it off. However, when the dinner ended, the two parted ways without any intention of continuing the friendship through future meetings or correspondence.

A few years later, a nineteen-year-old Buda Godman was out of school and back in Chicago where her family resided. One evening in 1907, Buda attended a performance of The Girl Question, a hit musical that enjoyed a run of over a hundred performances at the Lasalle Theater. There she recognized the man playing the part of Harold Sears as the same actor she’d met a few years earlier. After the performance, she sent him a note and “their acquaintance was renewed.” Buda Godman and Tell Taylor proceeded to embark on a whirlwind courtship. “Several times during the course of the week the young couple were out together, lunching and driving, and Monday evening after dinner together at a downtown hotel Judge Arms was called to the parlor and joined them in marriage,” the Lafayette Journal and Courier reported. Before going to the theater to catch her husband’s performance that evening, Buda called her parents and notified them of the marriage. Buda’s father joined her at the theater and after the performance took the couple back to his house where the Godmans held a dinner for the newlyweds.

While the Journal and Courier reported that the new bride “would not go on the stage,” Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer wrote in Chicago Confidential that Taylor got Buda work in the chorus of The Time, The Place, and The Girl. According to Lait and Mortimer, following Buda’s performance “Chicago woke up to the discovery of a new rave, Buda Godman. She was wooed and pursued and she fell. Taylor tried to kill her and fired several shots at her, but missed.”

There are more than a few inaccuracies in Lait and Mortimer’s account of the life of Buda Godman, so it’s difficult to know how much, if any, of this episode actually happened. However, one thing that is undeniable is that Tell and Buda’s relationship was stormier than a water spout off of Ohio St. Beach. To hear Tell Taylor tell it, “I married Buda when we were both drunk and I found out she was quite incapable of loyalty to anyone.” As Variety put it when Taylor filed for divorce from Buda in 1910, “his complaint mentioned several vaudevillians as ‘affinities.’ Their names were omitted from the final record.”

One thing that is never mentioned in the ‘love story’ of Tell Taylor and Buda Godman is the erratic behavior of Taylor himself. Life with the songwriter wasn’t always blissful romance by the old mill stream. Taylor did start a successful music publishing company in Chicago, and he managed to author his most famous tune “Down By The Old Mill Stream” in 1910 while still married to Buda. However, Taylor had his own ‘affinities’ that caused him to make headlines on more than one occasion.

In July of 1908, Taylor was fined $3 for disorderly conduct over a fight that took place at Freiberg’s Dance Hall 182 22nd street, Chicago. In his defense, “Taylor declared to Judge Crowe that as a result of the fracas he was carrying around two highly decorated eyes as well as several and sundry abrasions on different parts of his anatomy and that he did not deserve any additional punishment,” The Inter Ocean reported. Apparently, Taylor, Tim Jordan of the Brooklyn Superbas professional baseball team, and several other individuals were out “doing the levee” when they wandered into Freiberg’s at around two a.m. As the Inter Ocean reported, Taylor “created a disturbance in the dance hall, and that when asked to leave he had started a row.” He was then ejected by two waiters and later arrested when he tried to return to the dance hall.

During a separate incident in August of 1910, Tell Taylor again tangled with waiters at George Silver’s basement saloon at Clark and Randolph streets. After Taylor made a request to cash a check, he was attacked by Silver and several waiters who “threw him to the floor” and “pounded his head with a billy.” Silver maintained that Taylor “started the row” when he “used abusive language” and “refused to leave when ordered,” the Chicago Tribune reported. “O, no, he wasn’t beaten up. He was just thrown out gently,” Silver said.

The following month, on September 13, 1910, Buda’s father, Otho Godman, died in New York City at the age of 53. Less than two weeks later, Tell Taylor filed for a divorce. While Taylor blamed Buda’s lack of loyalty and affinities for fellow vaudevillians as the reason for the break up, it is pretty clear that his adventures in the levee, his brawling, and public drunkenness demonstrated that he was no more committed to the marriage than Buda.

Within a few years, Buda Godman would be deploying her theatrical skills to con rich men out of large sums of money. How a former convent school girl managed to fall in with a highly organized gang of international blackmailers is a bit of a mystery. She certainly could have encountered some of these characters in Chicago. Lait and Mortimer write that “her father’s calling threw him in with shady people….” Could Buda have come in contact with underworld figures among her father’s business associates? Otho Godman’s obituary said he worked “at race tracks in the big cities, and his services were always in demand.” As an expert in telegraphy, morse code and wireless communications, Otho Godman’s work at horse racing tracks would have placed him directly in the sphere of big-time gambling interests. Was it only a matter of time before Buda Godman adopted the life of crooks and conmen? Whatever the case may be, it appears that once the protective influence of Otho Godman had fallen away, and her marriage to Tell Taylor dissolved into ruin, Buda Godman was set free to relieve rich, philandering fat cats of their beefy bankrolls.

Wales dances all night at Cosden estate

One hundred years ago this morning, September 4, 1924, Edward the Prince of Wales wearily returned to the James Burden estate after a night of gayety that included a stag dinner party followed by dancing until dawn at the home of Joshua S. Cosden.

As the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reported that day, “It was another dancing party which kept Wales out all night, this time at the home of Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Cosden at Sands Point. The party was a small but jolly one. Other guests included Lord and Lady Mountbatten, Lord and Lady Milhaven and the Hon. Mrs. Richard Norton.”

Reporter Frank Getty was keeping close tabs on the prince that morning, writing in the Brooklyn Daily Times, “‘Please use the rear entrance,’ was the unwritten order at the James A. Burden estate today. In one of the bedrooms in the front of the big red brick house a young man was sleeping. He needed to. He had been out all night for the third time in three days. Edward, Prince of Wales, kept his fair curls tight on the pillow all morning. Downstairs, menials and secretaries tip-toed about. At the gates to ‘Woodsides,’ the gray-clad troopers shooed visitors around to the back door.

“Last night, after a dinner at the Piping Rock Club, the Prince, together with Lord and Lady Mountbatten and the Marquis and Marchioness of Milford Haven, went off to a dance at the Long Island home of Joshua S. Cosden. It lasted until 5 A.M.”

The New York Daily News reported, “Before going to the Cosden manor the prince attended a stag at the Piping Rock club…. After the stag the prince went to the home of Mr. and Mrs. Joshua S. Cosden, where he danced until morning.”

Grace Robinson wrote about the morning of September 4, “Before inspecting his third Long Island sunrise from the Cosden manor, the prince had been with the Piping Rock club at a gay stag…. After the stag, the prince went to the Cosdens where he danced until morning.”

Robinson also detailed how reporters assigned to follow the prince struggled to adjust to his brutal schedule. “The prince, having slept all of five hours, was at the private polo field of John S. Phipps promptly at noon. Reporters who went there were amazed to find him in tan jersey and Indian polo helmet cavorting about on his favorite mare, Kitty. He seemed fresh and eager for the sport, while the journalists were still nursing headaches following all night duty on the Piping Rock dinner and the Cosden dance.”

Following the “small but jolly’ Cosden party, there is clear consensus among reporters regarding the prince’s activities and whereabouts the previous evening and through the night until dawn. There is no confusion, no conflicting reports coming from the gaggle of reporters assigned to follow Wales. Nowhere in any of the contemporary accounts of the prince’s actions that night is there even a hint that Wales made a new friend at the Cosden party, and the pair motored to Broadway to go on a speak crawl.

Yet, fast forward a hundred years and that is exactly what a former journalist and current writing professor would have us believe. And if Dean Jobb, author of A Gentleman and a Thief, had presented his book as a work of historical fiction, he could be congratulated for authoring a damn fine story. But he claims it’s a work of creative non-fiction. In a note to readers, he writes, “No quotations have been altered; no details have been added or embellished. All scenes and events unfolded as described. Where there were differing accounts of conversations or what happened, I relied on what was said at the time, rather than what Barry and others remembered or asserted long afterward.”

In the words of Colonel Sherman T. Potter, “Horse Hockey!” Jobb clearly read at least some of the accounts I just presented, because he refers to the Cosden party as a “‘small but jolly’ gathering.” Yet he ignores “what was said at the time” in favor of the much later recollections of a thief and a con man. The book is full of these poor choices. As a work of historical fiction, it’s a great story. As a work of history, it’s severely lacking.

Arthur Barry did not accompany Prince of Wales on ‘little lark’ to Manhattan

The morning of September 3, 1924, the Prince of Wales slept until past noon at the Long Island estate of James Burden, where Wales lodged during his royal visit to the United States. As was becoming a routine, Wales partied late the night before and didn’t return to his lodging until between five and six in the morning. Press reports reveal the prince had dined at the home of Henry R. Winthrop of Woodbury the previous evening and danced there until 2:00 a.m. Following the Winthrop affair, Wales and a small contingent of revelers led by Mrs. Vincent Astor motored to her estate on Hempstead Harbor to prolong the gayety.

So as morning broke on the third of September, Wales was in no condition to participate in any of his usual princely activities. As Frank Getty reported, “Wales was scheduled to follow the hounds in one of the fashionable Long Island hunts, but since he got in from a late party only after 5 a.m., he called off the hunt plan and slept instead.”

William Woodford wrote of the canceled hunt, “Wales did not stir, nor did the bugle sound the chase. Instead he was slumbering, as he still was well after noontime, heedless of hounds, horses or even of his favorite game of polo.”

However, Wales did heed the call of the polo grounds that afternoon, attending the British team practice at Meadow Brook field followed by the American workout at W.R. Grace field, Westbury.

That evening, September 3, 1924, Wales again enjoyed the camaraderie of the polo crowd, attending a stag dinner at the Piping Rock Club at Locust Valley. An orchestra provided music, many toasts were made and Will Rogers delivered a 20 minute monologue that “made a great hit.”

“Leaving the Piping Rock Country Club at about midnight, the royal visitor went with his cousin, Lord Louis Mountbatten, and Lady Mountbatten, and Lord and Lady Milford Haven to the home of J. S. Cosden at Sands Point, where a jolly and small house party kept the fun going until the sun sent its first rays over Long Island. Then the prince went home,” The Buffalo News reported the following day, September 4.

The Brooklyn Daily Eagle provided a similar description of events following the Piping Rock Club dinner. “It was another dancing party which kept Wales out all night, this time at the home of Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Cosden at Sands Point. The party was a small but jolly one.”

Grace Robinson wrote on September 4, “After the stag, the prince went to the Cosdens where he danced until morning.”

Accounts of Wales’ whereabouts the evening of Wednesday, September 3 through the early morning hours of Thursday, September 4 all agree that Wales danced the night away at the Cosden estate and only left at daybreak to return to his Long Island lodging. None of the contemporary descriptions of the “small but jolly” Cosden shindig contain any mention of a secret royal excursion “to one of the white light jazz palaces of Broadway.”

While the Prince of Wales’ movements are unanimously agreed upon the night of the Piping Rock stag and the Cosden party, the following day’s itinerary is a little more shrouded in mystery.

Following his daybreak return from the Cosden festivities, Wales slept for about five hours at the Burden estate. Upon rising the morning of Thursday, September 4, Wales immediately headed for the polo field. As Grace Robinson reported, “The prince, having slept all of five hours, was at the private polo field of John S. Phipps promptly at noon….He seemed fresh and eager for the sport, while journalists were still nursing headaches following all night duty on the Piping Rock dinner and the Cosden dance.”

Later in the afternoon, after polo, Wales returned to the Cosden estate where other members of the royal entourage were staying during the visit. As John K. Winkler reported, “Late this afternoon he motored to the Cosdens after his polo game with Rogers and members of two scratch teams and had a try at golf.”

The Cosden’s gardener appeared to verify this account, telling reporters that Wales “had shot a few holes of golf” on the Cosden’s private links.

While differing on a few details, Grace Robinson’s reporting on Wales’ late afternoon activities lines up with other accounts. “He inspected the oil man’s nine hole golf course, but did not play. He sauntered through the beautiful shaded walks…enjoying the wild scenery. Finally he walked down to the private dock, where the Cosden yacht, the Crimper, was lying at anchor. H.R.H. stepped aboard a speed boat and was soon speeding across Long Island sound toward Greenwich, Ct.”

The speedboat getaway from the Cosden estate during the late afternoon or early evening of Thursday, September 4 caused the press to lose track of Wales until the following morning. Whether he ended up bar hopping in Manhattan that night or simply returned to the Burden estate was the cause of a great deal of frenzied speculation in the papers the following day.

One thing we can know for certain is that Arthur Barry did not befriend Wales at the Cosden party and lure him away to the white light of Broadway, as Arthur Barry bragged and Dean Jobb would have us believe in his new book, A Gentleman And A Thief. Barry was indeed a thief and a con man, and his latest con is to convince a modern day audience that he was once the Prince of Wales’ wingman.

A small but jolly gathering

In September of 1924, Edward, the Prince of Wales, made a much publicized visit to the United States. To call it “much publicized,” however, fails to adequately describe the media frenzy that accompanied his visit. The press hounded Wales mercilessly, reporting on his every movement: where he dined, where he danced, where he played, how long he slept, when he rose. The press of the day literally tried to account for every moment of his time on American soil.

While in the states, Wales spent almost the entirety of his visit among the American aristocracy of Long Island, New York. Most nights, Wales and his entourage, which included the Lord and Lady Mountbatten and Mrs. Richard Norton, were entertained at some lavish Long Island affair where they danced and partied until the wee hours of the morning.

One of these luxurious all-nighters took place at the estate of Joshua S. Cosden, a prosperous oil man who rose from very humble beginnings to become one of the richest men in America. It is this party that plays a prominent role in the forthcoming Dean Jobb true crime book, A Gentleman And A Thief. The book tracks the life and criminal endeavors of jazz age gentleman jewel thief Arthur Barry, who Jobb credits as the chief culprit behind the Cosden jewel robbery, which occurred during the royal visit of 1924.

In addition to being a critically acclaimed true crime author, Jobb is a professor emeritus at the University of King’s College where he specializes in creative nonfiction. Indeed, Jobb describes his true crime books as works of creative nonfiction, meaning he’s sticking to the facts, but utilizing a creative narrative-driven presentation.

Although Gentleman And A Thief doesn’t officially release until next month, the prologue of the book is available for sampling on Amazon’s website. The narrative dives straight into the Cosden party and Arthur Barry’s alleged presence there. According to Jobb, “It was there, in the midst of what one press report termed a ‘small but jolly’ gathering, that Gibson (Arthur Barry) met the prince.” Jobb’s prologue also describes in some detail Wales’ alleged surreptitious late night journey to a couple of notable Manhattan speakeasies. Whether or not these events actually took place at all, and that point is definitely up for debate, one thing for certain is the events could not have taken place as Jobb describes them.

The Cosden party Jobb describes took place during the late night hours of Wednesday, September 3, 1924 into the early morning hours of September 4. The Thursday, September 4 edition of the Brooklyn Daily Eagle reports, “Last night the Prince shared honors with polo players of both the British and American international teams at a stag dinner given for them at the Piping Rock Club at Locust Valley.” Will Rogers entertained the group with a 20 minute monologue, and according to the Daily Eagle account, “After the dinner the Prince left for a dance.” Earlier in the article it read, “It was another dancing party which kept Wales out all night, this time at the home of Mr. and Mrs. J. S. Cosden at Sands Point. The party was a small but jolly one. Other guests included Lord and Lady Mountbatten, Lord and Lady Milhaven and the Hon. Mrs. Richard Norton.”

This “small but jolly” account of the Cosden party got picked up by the Associated Press and appeared in newspapers across the country. The problem with Dean Jobb’s depiction of that night is that not only did Wales not leave the party with Arthur Barry, but Wales’ alleged secret excursion into Manhattan nightlife took place the following evening.

Popular journalist of the day Grace Robinson wrote on September 4: “Before inspecting his third Long Island sunrise from the Cosden Manor, the prince had been with the Piping Rock Club at a gay stag….After the stag, the prince went to the Cosdens where he danced until morning. And along went Lord and Lady Mountbatten, Lord and Lady Milford Haven and the rest of the who’s who.” This account is interesting because years later it will be Grace Robinson pushing the Arthur Barry story that he left the Cosden party with the prince.

So contemporary accounts of the “small but jolly” Cosden party make no mention of the Prince slipping away. That’s because Wales’ alleged foray into Manhattan occurred the following evening. On Friday, September 5, 1924, the newspapers were buzzing with speculation over the whereabouts of Wales between 2:00 to 5:00 Thursday afternoon September 4 and the early morning hours of Friday, September 5. Rumors start flying about Wales’ possible attendance at the El Fey Club 107 West 45th street, Manhattan, because a car bearing a license plate traced back to the Burden estate, where Wales was lodged, was seen near the club in the early morning hours of Friday, September 5. Despite denials by the club owner and the prince’s spokesperson that his grace had not graced the club’s premises, rumors persisted.

Jobb quotes a newspaper account which read, “he went in disguise to one of the white light jazz palaces on Broadway.” This account appears in Friday, September 5 newspaper editions, speculating as to the Prince’s whereabouts the previous evening into early morning. It concerns a time period a full 24 hours after the Cosden party where Arthur Barry, alias Dr. Gibson, allegedly lured Wales away to the “White Light Belt.”

Whether or not Wales pulled a Manhattan Holiday and stealthily eluded the press and his handlers to bask in the white light of Broadway was unclear at the time and remains unclear today. However, what is clear is that the account depicted in Jobb’s book could not have happened the way he described it. Maybe there was some other Cosden party that Arthur Barry lured His Royal Highness away from, but it wasn’t the “small but jolly” one.

If it can be shown that I’m confusing my dates, I’ll be happy to admit my error. However, it seems pretty clear that the specific events Jobb references did not take place on the same night. At any rate, I’m looking forward to reading the rest of Jobb’s book. The Cosden case and other area gem thefts have been of great interest to me for quite some time, and I’m anxious to learn what else Jobb has uncovered.