Where Did They Come From?

By Robert Kellert

A look at a couple phrases we cherish, but whose origins we knew nothing about…until now.

“Con man”

New York can be a tricky place sometimes (every time, really), but not as tricky as it was in the Antebellum Era. Alright, so maybe Jenny Everdeane (Cameron Diaz’s pick-pocketing, prostituting persona in Martin Scorsese’s  Gangs of New York) wasn’t real, but there were plenty of people like her. If you’re skeptical, just consider the case of William Thompson, to whom we owe the term “con man.” I’m afraid Thompson’s story isn’t as elaborate or compelling as that of the 1973 “con man” classic, The Sting, which won seven Academy Awards, but there’s one important difference: Thompson’s story is real.

It was 1849, and frankly, sectional tension was the last thing on William Thompson’s mind. What was on his mind, though, was money: cold, hard dinero. If Thompson did anything positive in his life, it was to illustrate the gullibility of people. He would amble along the streets of New York looking for his next victim. We’re not talking a violent criminal, however. On the contrary, Thompson was the friendliest criminal you could meet—and that was the trap.

Thompson would simply approach people he perceived trustworthy, converse with them in the most amiable fashion, and then inquire: “Have you confidence in me to trust me with your watch until tomorrow?” Pathetic, right? Of course it is. Did it work? Did it ever! Thompson profited handsomely from others’ beneficence and stupidity, which in this case went hand-in-hand. He was bound to be recognized, though.

One day, Thomas McDonald (who did not have a farm, E-I-E-I-O) was walking down Liberty Street and saw a familiar face. It was none other than William Thompson, the man to whom he had once lent his $110 gold watch only to never see it again. McDonald quickly flagged down an officer, who apprehended Thompson with great difficulty; Thompson struggled with the officer, attempting to escape—he wasn’t so nice after all. He was eventually detained and prosecuted, during which time he was given the indelible nickname, “confidence man.” There was as problem, though: this nickname was too long to fit the title section of newspapers. It was therefore shortened to “con man.”

“Smart alec”

Now, you might think Thompson’s story was an aberration. Consider, then, the tale of an otherwise obscure Alec Hoag. Fittingly, his story takes place in the same location in the same timeframe. Alec Hoag was, quite simply, a pimp; and if that wasn’t enough, he was also a thief. He and his wife Melinda began their “careers” as pickpockets first. They would lure people into dark alleys and one of them would distract the pick-pocketee while the other took valuables from their pockets. The Hoags had to pay off some police officers (ironically, with some of what the stole) to look the other way. Eventually, though, they were running low on money and could not pay the police off. Their days of thievery were far from over, though.

The next natural step was to try pimping. As pimps often do, Alec Hoag had prostitutes working for him but not just providing their usual services. Hoag relied on his wife (affectionately nicknamed, “French Jack”) to lure men into hotel rooms (though it may have just been the Hoags’ apartment), after which men would, naturally, deposit their clothes somewhere in the room.

Well, Hoag began getting clever about this. He would have his wife have men place their clothes on a chair that just so happened to be near a hole in the wall. When they deposited their clothes on the chair, Hoag’s wife would cough, a signal for Hoag to slip his arm through the hole and grab money from the clothes. (Other versions don’t mention any hole in the wall. They instead have Hoag actually entering the room, picking the clothes’ pockets, and then leaving.) Immediately afterward—and this was brilliant—Hoag would bang on the door and his wife would pretend that her husband was returning early from a trip and was about to walk in on her and her “customer.” The “customer” would then scram through the window, without his valuables. Mission accomplished.

The police finally discovered the Hoags’ modus operandi (from which the police did not profit) and thereafter arrested them. Alec Hoag wasn’t done yet, though. With his brother’s aid, he escaped, but was later re-caught. Hoag earned the nickname “Smart Alec” for his craftiness, and some believe the nickname refers to people who commit crimes without bribing the police. So, the next time someone calls you a “smart alec”—they mean smartass, but don’t want to be too confrontational—you can tell them the entire history behind the term. You’ll never be Alec Hoag, but you can always be smart.

Random Fact of the Day: Michel Thaler’s novel, Le Train, de Nulle Part (The Train From Nowhere) is 233 pages long. It has no verbs.