Between 1875 and 1895, Bill Hicks
was known as the smoothest porch climber and housebreaker in western
Indiana.
According to Terre Haute police Capt. Jack Beattie, who followed
Hicks’ career as a neighbor and lawman, Hicks could run like a deer and go
through windows with the grace of a circus rider catapulting through paper
hoops.
On many occasions, Hicks was captured but rarely was he found in
possession of stolen merchandise. When asked if he was a thief, he remained
silent. Bill Hicks rarely lied.
Beattie joined the police force in 1886,
serving in every capacity from patrolman to superintendent. Before that, he was
a puddler at the Terre Haute Iron & Nail Works.
Hicks, an
African-American with an engaging personality, worked for the Wabash Iron Co. He
resided with his wife Sarah and their children at 1404 S. 13th St.
“I
should say that I do know Bill Hicks,” Beattie told a reporter for the Terre
Haute Tribune in March of 1911. “He was my neighbor.
“Bill was a corker
and I believe he was a thief just as much for the enjoyment of the profession as
for any other cause. He enjoyed breaking into a house as much as a squirrel
enjoys climbing a tree.
“One thing about him, he would never hurt
anybody. Bill would run before he would harm a hair on a person’s head. He just
wanted money and the valuables that were lying around — that’s all.
“He
lived in the southeast part of the city and his home was a palace, as elegantly
furnished as some of the finest in the city. He worked at the old Wabash rolling
mill but his life style cost him ten times as much as he could earn at
labor.
“He would go to work early with a little dinner bucket and, if
there had been a house-breaking during the night, Bill might say, ‘Everybody
knows I was at work early!’”
For several years, many people, including
the police, were convinced that Hicks’ lifestyle was the result of his hard
work. Police soon became convinced that Bill was committing many burglaries but
they could not catch him.
On a rainy night during the latter days of 1879
word came to the police station that a burglar was in a residence on South Fifth
Street. Officers hurried to the home but, before they reached the scene, the man
had looted the place and was gone.
While officers were investigating that
burglary, another report was received that a burglar had entered another house
in the same block. Police rushed to the new house and were there but a few
minutes when a report came that there was a burglary at a third dwelling in the
same neighborhood.
The routine continued through the night until a total
of seven houses were burglarized in the same district. Money and jewels valued
at several hundred dollars were stolen.
Certain that “notorious Bill
Hicks” was the culprit, officers were dispatched to his house only to find Bill
in bed and, to all appearances, sound asleep. During those days no search
warrant was necessary and an thorough investigation of the residence revealed
nothing. A few months later, Hicks joked with officers that he might have been
the culprit; however, he was careful not to say anything that could be used
against him.
Hicks even avoided conviction when a thief matching his
description tried to burglarize the residence of prominent furniture dealer A.Z.
Foster at 803 S. Sixth St. Foster grappled with the intruder and tore off a
piece of his coat, which matched the size of a hole in the garment Bill wore to
work the next day.
According to Capt. Beattie, the jury found Bill not
guilty after his attorneys introduced into evidence another coat owned by Hicks
with an identical hole.
Hicks frequently made the news. If he went out of
town, one of Terre Haute’s several newspapers usually reported the departure.
His fame permitted other burglars to take advantage of Hicks’ reputation. Every
burglary was assigned to Hicks.
On the other hand, when Hicks was
apprehended and incarcerated for a crime, the number of burglaries would cease
or reduce. On a few occasions, police detained Bill in jail for several days
without publicity and found that the burglaries continued. Officers were
convinced that, while Hicks was getting by with many “jobs,” he was not doing
all of them.
Hicks’ career in crime was interrupted when he was
apprehended while burglarizing a residence in Clay County. He was convicted and
spent five years in the penitentiary in Michigan City. When he was released, he
went to Chicago and was successful plying his trade there for several
years.
While committing a simple heist in downtown Chicago, he lost part
of his lower leg. A newspaperman saw Hicks snatch a purse from a woman on a
street car and leap from the moving trolley. The journalist caught Bill and,
during the ensuing scuffle, Hicks’ foot slipped under the wheels of a passing
vehicle.
He spent several weeks in a hospital and three years in an
Illinois penitentiary. Meanwhile he was fit with an artificial limb. When he was
released, he realized that his days of crime were over and he opened a pool hall
on Chicago’s “west side.”
After relocating to Chicago, Hicks periodically
returned to Terre Haute to visit friends and relatives. On some of those
occasions, he would drop by the police office or the jail to visit and exchange
stories with past acquaintances, including Capt. Beattie.
He proudly
recounted to Beattie an alleged incident where he pilfered a man’s billfold
while walking along State Street in Chicago. The billfold contained
$1,400.
When the victim realized what had happened he chased Hicks and
dozens of other citizens followed. Hicks ran down an alley and entered a small
house. When the lead pursuer approached the house, Hicks poked his head out the
door and asked what the excitement was all about. The man explained and Bill
quickly asked, “Which way did he go?”
Hicks ran out of the house and
joined the crowd in pursuit of the thief. He chased himself for several blocks
before he became weary and abandoned the chase with $1,400 in his
pocket.