Part six:
The next chapter for The Person Formerly Known as Betsy Bigley has her going to prison for the first time. It is one of the more documented periods of her life, and features a rather tragic figure, though some of the explanations for his presence are questionable.

For example, I don't believe Karen Abbott's contention that Joseph Lamb went to the clairvoyant named Mme. Lydia Devere and paid her $10,000 to serve as his financial adviser.

Others who've written about The Woman Who One Day Will Be Known as Cassie Chadwick, perhaps swayed by her appearance in 1904, can't seem to understand how the woman, even in her Lydia Devere phase, could have had such power over a man whose name invited ridicule and inspired many trite headlines. But Joseph Lamb foolishly allowed himself to be Madame Devere's puppet.

George Condon, mindful the woman, just 30 years of age when she met Lamb, was far more attractive than people would acknowledge years later, went for the obvious reason for their one-sided relationship:

Interesting, but probably overstated. The thing is, Lamb certainly was naive, but he wasn't young. When he met Lydia Devere, he was 42 years old, 12 years older than she was. He had a wife and five children, and was the manager of the United States Express Company's Toledo office. I believe their relationship was more innocent, but a lot more complicated than the Condon version. Lydia Devere simply took advantage of a very nice guy, who may have had some fantasies about her and felt a load of guilt. Meanwhile, she reeled him in slowly, pecking away at his good nature, his naiveté, and, most importantly, what little money he had.

I think what happened is explained in this story, which begins with Lamb under arrest, but no longer under Madame Devere's spell. He's finally seen the light, and tells all, though I wish the story included a reaction from the unfortunate Mrs. Lamb:

Actually, her scheme was exposed by a bank in Cleveland, not Youngstown. In a lengthy piece on Cassie Chadwick, the Chicago Tribune (December 4, 1904) said, "The first intimation of the forgery came from Cleveland on January 12, 1890, when a message was received at Toledo that Richard Brown, a wealthy commission merchant of Youngtown, Ohio, went to Cleveland on a notice from a Cleveland bank that his note for $25,000 was due. This note proved to be a clever forgery. The First National and Northern Naional banks of Toledo each had notes of $5,000 for collection, both payable to the order of Florida G. Blythe. These notes were similiar to the larger one at Cleveland and the local bankers immediately became frightened and began an investigaion."

Madame Devere and Lamb were arrested, faced multiple charges of forgery, and went on trial. Lamb's attorney, Irvin Belford, then did something that had never been done before in a United States court. He admitted all charges, but pleaded that Lamb had acted while under "hypnotic influence."

Alice York, a sister of Betsy Bigley/Lydia Devere, may have thought all the hypnotism talk was nonsense, but the Toledo jury was convinced there was truth to it, and Lamb was acquitted. However, he lost his job with the express company, and spent the rest of his life making brooms and peddling them door to door. (He died of a heart attack in 1900 in the house of strangers while trying to sell them one of his brooms.)

As for Lydia Devere, her hypnotic powers did not work on the jury, and she was found guilty and sentenced to nine-and-a-half years in the Ohio penitentiary in Columbus.

Why she forged the name of an industrialist well known in Youngstown and Cleveland was puzzling. She may have had an interest in "iron masters," as the press referred to Richard Brown, because a few years later she'd go after the greatest iron master of them all.

But when newspapers, in 1904, looked back at the woman's career, they painted a picture of a woman who seemed to have it made in Toledo, and didn't need to mess with Joseph Lamb.

"She could be seen in the finest carriages driving about the city," said the Chicago Sunday Tribune (December 4, 1904), "and her entertainments were known as elaborate ... She began to secure large sums of money from various men. It is asserted that a prominent doctor gave up all and was completely under her control ... A bank president, since dead, was deceived, and how much he loaned her will never be learned."

Fourteen years earlier, in reporting on her forgery case, the New York World (January 15, 1890) wrote, "Her magnificently furnished house on Broadway has been constantly visited by the leading men of Toledo, and much apprehension is felt among them today for if the Madame were placed on the stand, she could tell much more than concerns Mr. Lamb's case."

Yet, years later, after Lydia Devere transformed herself into Cassie Chadwick, and her world suddenly collapsed, a reporter asked Irvin Belford about his one-time client Joseph Lamb and Lamb's relationship with Madame Devere, and the lawyer replied, "Lamb assured me there was never anything improper in their relations; that she was always in an invalid’s chair or in bed when he saw her.”

A prisoner like no other
From day one at the Ohio Penitentary in Columbus, Lydia Devere was a model inmate as she set out to secure her parole at the earliest possible date. Which doesn't mean she faded into the background. In Karen Abbott's piece, she says, "Even there she posed as a clairvoyant, telling the warden that he would lose $5,000 in a business deal (which he did) and then die of cancer (which he also did)."

She worked in the sewing department, making shirts for the male prisoners, dresses for the women. She also won friends and influenced people.

Mrs. Flora Kissinger of Columbus was a matron at the Ohio State Peniteniary in that city while Lydia Devere was an inmate. This is how she described the prisoner:

Mrs. Kissinger said Madame DeVere brought with her charms she used to create spells voodoo style while in prison. She said the inmate often covered a small icon with a black cloth, set it on fire in a small iron pan, and marched up and down corridors murmuring to herself. Perhaps she was putting a curse on sister Alice who had temporary custody of her son. Mrs. Kissinger said Lydia was particularly bitter about this sister, saying she kept the money that had been raised with the fraudulent checks.

Or maybe Lydia was casting spells on people she wanted to visit her in prison. The matron claimed several prominent citizens did just that soon after her performances.

She's paroled, thanks for a future President
The con woman must have had a few powerful friends, because she launched a letter-writing campaign, and after only three years secured her release, thanks to Governor (and future President) William McKinley.

Here's the kicker, though it didn't come as a surprise when I read it in the Rochester Democrat & Chronicle (December 9, 1904):

"Before a prisoner can be paroled, the law requires that someone must agree to give him employment. In Madame Devere's case, a letter from Alice M. York of Cleveland was presented, and it is now suspected that this letter, as well as most of the monthly reports to the warden which bore the name of Mrs. York were forged."

In 1904, when she began having frequent fainting spells that carried over to her trial and imprisonment, it would be written that, as Lydia Devere, she also had faked illness, and that was a primary reason she was paroled. Once more, take your pick.

Another condition of the parole law is that a prisoner so released must not leave the state, yet, when free, Madame Devere spent significant time in Woodstock, Ontario. For awhile she worked as a traveling saleswoman for a millinery company.

But she settled in Cleveland and it wasn't long before she met the man who gave her the status she needed for a big-time con job.