Charles Earl Bolles (1829–1917?), alias Black Bart, was a poet and American Old West outlaw. He was also known as Charles E. Boles and C.E. Bolton. Black Bart was one of the more notorious stagecoach robbers to operate in and around Lake County, California during the late 1880s. The fame he received for his numerous daring thefts is rivaled only by his reputation for style and sophistication.
When the Civil War was declared, Charles again had an impulse for adventure, and enlisted with the 116th Regiment on August 13, 1862. He was well suited for the job, and engaged in a number of battles and accumulated awards, promotions, and injuries. In 1865 he was relieved of his duties and left for Iowa to begin a new life as a farmer.
The farming life did not interest Charles though, and he yearned for the excitement of gold hunting yet again. Little is known about Charles between the years 1871–75. His wife assumed him dead when he stopped writing, and there are some accounts of him teaching in Northern California during these years. What is apparent nonetheless, is that something changed his outlook on life and work. He reemerged in official documents in July of 1875, when he robbed his first stagecoach in Calaveras County. What made the robbery so unusual was the politeness and manners presented by the assailant. He spoke with a deep and resonant tone, and asked the stage driver to "Please throw down the box." He was courteous and used no foul language. He covered his body in sacks and linens to hide his clothing and appearance. These distinguished features became his trademarks.
Charles, like many of his contemporaries, read "dime novel" style serial adventure stories which appeared in local newspapers. In the early 1870s the Sacramento Union ran such a serial called The Case of Summerfield, by Caxton (a pseudonym of William Henry Rhodes). In the story, the villain dressed in black, had long unruly black hair, a large black beard and wild grey eyes. The villain would attack Wells Fargo stagecoaches and brought great fear into those who were unlucky enough to cross him. The character's name was Black Bart, and Charles decided to build on this individual's legend.
Wells Fargo detectives James Hume and Henry Nicholson Morse began searching every laundry in San Francisco for the one that used the mark. After questioning nearly 90 laundry operators, they finally traced the mark to the Ferguson & Bigg's California Laundry on Bush Street. From there they were able to trace the handkerchief to a man going by the name of C.E. Bolton who lived in a modest boarding house. Bolton described himself as a "mining engineer" and made frequent "business trips" which coincided with the Wells Fargo robberies. After initially denying that he was Black Bart, he eventually broke down and admitted that he had robbed several Wells Fargo stages, but confessed only to the crimes committed before 1879. It is widely believed that Bolles mistakenly believed that the statute of limitations had expired on these robberies. When booked, he gave his name as T.Z. Spalding. When the police examined his possessions they found a Bible, a gift from his wife, inscribed with his real name.
In the police report that came about after his capture, it stated that Black Bart was, "a person of great endurance. Exhibited genuine wit under most trying circumstances, and was extremely proper and polite in behavior. Eschews profanity."
Wells Fargo pressed charges only on the final robbery. He was convicted and sentenced to six years in San Quentin Prison but his stay was shortened to four years for good behavior. When Bolles was released in January 1888 his health had clearly deteriorated due to his time in prison. He had visibly aged, his eyesight was failing and he had gone deaf in one ear. Reporters swarmed around him when he was released. They asked if he were going to rob anymore stagecoaches. "No gentlemen," he smilingly replied, "I'm through with crime." Another reporter asked if he would write more poetry. He laughed, "Now didn't you hear me say that I am through with crime?"
Black Bart's end is more in keeping with the way the romantics of his day would have had it. He disappeared without a trace shortly after his release from prison. His San Francisco boarding house room was found vacated in February 1888 and the outlaw was never seen again.
On November 14, 1888 another Wells Fargo stage was robbed by a masked highwayman. The lone bandit left a verse that read:
So here I've stood while wind and rain
Have set the trees a-sobbin'
And risked my life for that damned box,
That wasn't worth the robbin'
Detective Hume was called to examine the note. After comparing it with genuine Black Bart bits of poetry from the past, he declared the new holdup was the work of a copycat criminal.
Rumors began to swirl that Wells Fargo had paid off the aging bandit and sent him away to keep him from robbing their stages. Wells Fargo has always denied these rumors. Although some stories reported he lived quietly in New York City and died there in 1917, others preferred to believe that the poet bandit had gone to the wilds of Montana, or perhaps Nevada, for another try at making a fortune.
"I've labored long and hard for bread,
For honor and for riches,
But on my corns too long you've tred
You fine-haired sons of bitches."
- Black Bart, 1877
American outlaws | Historic California people | Disappeared people | 1829 births | 1917 deaths
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"Charles Bolles".
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