Gold Brick Scam of Yesteryear.

A few weeks back, the History Junkie watched a piece on “60 Minutes” about our elderly being scammed from phone banks in Costa Rica.  What?  Seriously?  Has it really come to this?  So sad to see that our modern “confidence men” rely, almost exclusively, on the low hanging fruit.  Not only do they target grandma, while hiding behind the anonymity of a phone.  But now, they’re also shielding their identities in foreign countries.

Wrong? Yes! But bold? Brazen? Hardly. Oh, how I long for yesterday—a simpler time when our con-men were actually required to have balls.

In 1890, Albion, Indiana businessman and farmer, Adam Hoffman, was known to be a man of considerable wealth.  That October, he would meet his “confidence man” in an encounter he would not soon forget.  However, the attempted swindle would not be by mail or through the phone, but face-to-face.

That morning while out on his farm at work, he was approached by a stranger, who spoke his name and appeared to be well acquainted.  After a short rambling conversation, the stranger informed Mr. Hoffman that he was an Indian agent from the west, and was in search of a large quantity of gold which had been buried by Indians in that vicinity forty years ago.  He had one of the original Indians with him for the purpose of locating the burial places, and he had succeeded.  …Mr. Hoffman was considerably worked up by the rascal’s ingenuity and finally consented to go with him into the woods nearby and dig at the spot where the Indian had said a portion of the gold was buried.  Arriving there with a spade, the stranger commenced digging in unbroken ground, but struck a root, and the old man went to the house for an ax to facilitate the excavation.  Upon his return, a few minutes work revealed the precious metal in the shape of a half bushel brick, weighing possibly 50 pounds.  This the fellow said was worth fully $14,500 and was one of fifteen just like it buried in the vicinity. (Kendallville Standard, 10/24/1890)

In hindsight, the scam appears obvious.  Yet, to someone unprepared as Adam Hoffman was that day, it proved to be quite clever and very well crafted.  He began in unbroken ground to convince the victim that he had not recently buried a nugget.  He purposely dug near a tree in order to hit a root.  As his victim was away retrieving an ax, he would plant the brick.  Upon the victim’s return, he would quickly unearth the treasure.  Each step was rehearsed.

Now, it was time to complete the deal.  The Indian agent wanted to divide the booty into thirds, one for himself, one for the Indian and one for Hoffman.  Hoffman was to make a down payment on his portion of the large nugget already unearthed.  He was also given the option to purchase the Indian’s share.  Sound familiar—a precursor to the sweepstakes/tax scams of today?

The agent made multiple trips into the woods to confer with his mythical Indian partner.  When Hoffman asked to see the Indian, he was told that, he was afraid of white men and would run away if approached.  No Indian was ever shown to Hoffman because in reality, no Indian existed.

Hoffman finally conceded to a payment of $1,000 if the agent could prove the brick to be genuine.  As the brick was too large to carry into town, the con-man pretended to chisel off a small piece to be tested.  Clearly, he had a small sample of real gold on his person to satisfy just such a request.  The two men loaded into the agent’s buggy and headed for Rome City.  After passing the nitric acid test, druggist J.P. Chapman pronounced the gold to be pure and true.

Mr. Hoffman, by this time, was worked up to a fever heat, and in an excited state of mind, his hands and limbs trembled, his tongue could hardly wag to tell the story of hidden treasures beneath the sod, soon to be unearthed.  Visions of huge chunks of gold as large as a bushel basket floated through Mr. Hoffman’s brain.  He danced around in glee, saying that soon he would be worth fifty thousand dollars. (Kendallville Standard, 10/22/1890)

However, upon hearing the tale, interested onlookers soon recognized the situation for what it was—a scam.  Hoffman was beside himself.  The proper authorities were contacted.  A warrant for the Indian agent was issued, but he had already fled the scene.  Local deputies mounted a pursuit, but to no avail.  The perp had boarded the Lake Shore train, but jumped off between stops, never to be heard from again.