‘Shoving the queer,’ or how to defraud your neighbors
I hope no one is thinking the above phrase has anything to do with homophobia. In the 19th century “shoving the queer” meant passing counterfeit money.
According to Wikipedia, people have been counterfeiting money since 500 years before Christ. It has even been known as the “second oldest profession.” Today, we are following the money, the bad money.
One of the earliest mentions of counterfeit money comes from George Woodruff’s book, “The History of Will County” and concerns Wesley Township, and the standing joke about “Kilpatrick’s currency.”
It seems that William Kelley purchased a piece of land from Wesley resident John Kilpatrick. He paid $800 in gold for it, or to be precise, in Mexican gold coins.
Kilpatrick used the coins occasionally to pay a neighbor for seed, or blacksmithing. Once in a while, he took some into Wilmington to pay his bills at the store. Most of the coins remained in the locality for quite a time, with many residents owning one or two. After a year or so, it was discovered that every one of the coins were counterfeit.
After all that time what was to be done? Kelley had believed them to be real when he paid for his land, and Kilpatrick thought the same thing. It was all too complicated, so the residents of Wesley decided to act as if the coins were real and use them as currency anyway. “Kilpatrick’s currency” came to mean anything that looked too good to be true.
Our next story comes from August of 1880 and involved a woman whose husband David Morris, had recently been killed in a mine accident.
From the Joliet Signal: “Shoving the queer – Thursday a stranger, to all appearances a farmer, called at Mrs. David Morris’ store and purchased a handkerchief, presented a $10 bill in payment and received $9.50 in change. From Mrs. Morris’, he went to Robert Dixon’s and purchased a pair of shoes, tendering another $10 bill in payment, receiving the proper change, and took his departure. The parties with whom he traded discovered too late that they had been victimized, and that the money was counterfeit.”
But a week later we read, “It is thought that the vagabond who passed a $10 counterfeit on Mrs. Morris, recently, has been arrested in Peoria, having been caught ‘shoving the queer.’
The same incident was described with more detail in the Wilmington paper: “He was a dastardly mean wretch, indeed, who passed a counterfeit $10 greenback upon the widow of the late David Morris, on Thursday last, after purchasing four handkerchiefs for 50 cents. He wore the garb of a farmer and gave his name as Johnson. It is said that he afterward played the same game upon Robert Dixon, clerk at Kelly’s boot and shoe store. The fellow was a middle-aged man and said he was a farmer residing near here and had just got the bills from our city bank.”
A month later, the following warning was issued: “Lots of counterfeit money – paper and coin – is said to be in circulation in this place. Blessed be the printers, for of money they have none.”
In 1882, we find burglars that were also shoving the queer. From the Joliet Signal, “Chas. W. Mott and John Brady were arrested here the other night on suspicion of being burglars. Dando taxed them $25 each, taking their effects, consisting of a watch and chain, revolver, counterfeit money, etc., as security while they worked out their fines on the street. While working, however, they both skipped out to parts unknown, and not one is there to mourn their departure.”
Most of the counterfeiters were far from sophisticated, and their false money could be spotted quickly. One would think that these crooks would be from the big city, like Chicago, but in 1884, a ring was broken up in Elwood.
The Joliet Signal tells the story: “Startling developments were made last week in this (Joliet) city leading to the arrest of a gang of counterfeiters in our midst which was as much a surprise to the public generally as it was to the evil doers who were apparently plying their trade in fancied security.
“Suspicions were first aroused by one of the workers ‘shoving the queer’ rather indiscriminately last Friday. Adam Wilhelme, a young man about 20 years of age, whose parents live two or three miles southwest of the city, made a small purchase at the candy factory of Scheidt Bros. on Jefferson Street, offering in payment a coin dollar.
“The piece was at once declared a counterfeit by Tony Scheidt. The young man sauntered away to try his bogus coins on other parties. Chief Murray was at once notified and in a few minutes the young operator was under arrest and searched.
“The chief escorted him to his home in the country, there to find other evidences of the practical working of a gang. A confession was made and others implicated who were as far from being suspected as was young Wilhelme himself.
“Joe Patterson, a well-known resident of the township, aged 48 years, and a member of one of the oldest and most highly respected families of this section, was promptly arrested, as was also Charles Currier, a young fellow about 14 years.
“United States deputy marshals at Chicago were notified of the haul and Saturday the prisoners were taken by them to Chicago to be tried by the U. S. District Court.
“A thorough search was afterwards made in Patterson’s blacksmith shop, where the intricate work was done, the officers being rewarded by finding dies, several kinds of metal gold leaf, etc.”
Just yesterday, I paid for a purchase with a $20 bill which the clerk tested with a pen. It seems that even today, we all are suspected of “shoving the queer.”
Sandy Vasko is Director of the Will County Historical Museum & Research Center and President of the Will County Historical Society.