Crime in Stockbridge! The next morning, Stockbridge, and, for that matter, the whole of Berkshire County had something to talk about. Mr. Charles Butler promptly offered a reward of $500 for the arrest and conviction of the burglar, the authorities added $500 more, and Mrs. Field added $200. $1,200 in 1893 is equal to $42,000 today. Big doings in the little village.
The state detective came over from Lee and stated tersely, “the big reward spoiled the case, for the robber would hide his light for a time under his bushel.”
The consensus was that the robberies were committed by a person thoroughly conversant with the structure of the houses and the habits of the occupants. The argument was further strengthened by the fact that he not only disguised his face but covered his hands and feet as a precaution against detection. Several points indicated the burglar to be a novice. He used no regular burglar tools and no skeleton key. He cut out no windows or panels of doors, climbed no piazzas, and had broken open no cellar doors. In short, they thought the burglar was a gentleman known to the gentry.
Even The New York Times reported on September 10, 1893:
All his victims bear witness to the soothing voice, almost mesmeric influence of his voice. Before … his coolness, deliberation in word and act, impressed some with the suggestion that he was a professional man fairly conversant with human nature and the temperament of women. [Illiterate and educated agree on this point.] When Miss Stetson deliberately called him back in order to catch a glimpse of his eyes, she noted that his dress was that of a gentleman, that his clothing was of mixed material and of fashionable cut, that his three-button cutaway coat fitted his figure to a nicety, and that his trousers were of a quiet pattern. He wore a white shirt. His eyes were dark and mild and soft in expression. His ears were small and shapely, and his hair closely trimmed and dark colored. His figure was erect and was carried with dignity and ease. It was also noted that he invariably drove off in a buggy and his horses were fast.
The story generated national interest, and the burglar himself had such cachet that the Times gave a full-page account of the crime:
Stockbridge Is under Arms—Terrified by the Acts of a Mysterious Burglar
The once quiet peaceful town now sleeps with barred doors. The watchmen in the streets and the detective on the alert—A tall man with arching eyebrows and a mesmerizing voice the cause of the alarm —His visits during the summer season—One very thrilling experience…at that instant a sight confronted her [Miss Stetson] that drove every drop of blood in her body to her heart and paralyzed her with fright. Standing in the doorway was an apparition unearthly in its appearance; intensified in its ghostly outlines by the flickering lamp it held in its muffled hand. Six feet and over in height, looking taller and more spectral by the shadows heaving around it, a derby hat pulled far down over the forehead, a man’s hemstitched handkerchief drawn tightly over the lower part of the face and secured behind the ears, the figure before her could not have imbued her with more terror had she seen it come up out of the grave. In the right hand, also muffled, gleamed a revolver; both feet were bandaged with towels….
[I]n relating the episode, Miss Stetson said, ‘The instant he spoke, the tension snapped, and I was myself again. The voice was low, musical, soothing, and mesmeric in its effect. The change from the stifling silent presence to the talking human being was like the passing of a refreshing summer breeze.’
‘I want your money, he finally said.
‘I have none,’ replied Miss Stetson. ‘I only came to stay the night with my friend because she is afraid of you.’
He crossed the hall and entered Mrs. Swan’s apartment.
‘I have a pistol,’ she exclaimed.
‘So have I’ he replied, deliberately advancing towards her. ‘You had better give me that pistol,’ he said in a quiet decisive way,
‘You might hurt yourself with it.’
‘I can’t give it to you,’ she cried. ‘It is borrowed.’
‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘I will take it from you, because you might hurt yourself and I will leave it downstairs.’
He then walked over to her dressing case and picked up her rings.
‘Won’t you please leave that one?’ she cried. ‘It belonged to my mother. I prize it highly’ – thinking it was an emerald of rare beauty.
He nodded his head and replaced the ring on the silver tray. But she had made a mistake. It was a diamond ring he had had in his hand, and in the morning she had found it where he had laid it. The emerald was gone—its actual value was $750. As an heirloom it was priceless. He stripped her pocketbook of its contents, amounting to $80. Then he walked over to her desk.
‘Where is the key?’ he demanded.
‘I don’t know. I have been thinking where I could have laid it. The visit was so unexpected that I am unable to collect my thoughts. If you let me up, I may find it.’
As he left Mrs. Swan’s bedroom she asked, ‘Don’t you think you might seek some other employment?’
[He then returned to Miss Stetson’s room and demanded her watch. She said she had none.]
‘On your honor?’ he said, raising his eyebrows.
[He next visited the home of Mrs. David Dudley Field.]
A piece of black silk now covered his face… She maintained her grasp around his neck and was lifted until her feet were clear of the floor….
‘You will get hurt!’ he exclaimed quietly, exerting himself to the utmost to shake himself free… Across the room and into the hall, the struggle continued. She hanging on with the frenzy and desperation of despair… her shrieks in course of time had awakened Mr. Field’s valet, who now rushed into the hall, pistol in hand.
‘Shoot!’ cried Mrs. Field to the astonished valet who stood paralyzed to the spot, not five feet away. ‘Don’t mind me! This man is a robber and he has my watch.’
[With a sense of the proprieties that was delicious, even if it were untimely,] the valet cried, ‘I must get my wrapper’ [and departed for that indispensable article—to a valet—of wearing apparel.]
Miss Stetson is credited with giving him the title: “The Gentleman Burglar.” With every indication of a 19th-century gentleman, imagine the dismay when the burglar was apprehended. He was Thomas Kinsella, a stone cutter employed by Joseph Choate in 1885 while building his estate, and a man who shot his mother in 1887. He was a Stockbridge town resident. The town tax assessor listed his assets as $1,430. That included a house, barn, mountain lot, and brick yard valued at $200, $230, $800, and $200, respectively. His tax bill was marked paid. A descendant of Thomas Kinsella, and current resident of Stockbridge, does not believe that the story of the Gentleman Burglar ended with the arrest of Thomas. It is his belief that it was a ring, and only Kinsella was caught. That would mean that each description of the Gentleman Burglar might have been of a different man, and, finally, it was a description of a criminal investigation ended too soon.
