This content is available to subscribers and issue purchasers.
A short, slightly built man with a thin face and a carefully groomed moustache stepped forward in a courtroom of London’s Royal Courts of Justice. He was pushing fifty in 1889, and what stood out about him was how little he stood out; there was nothing in his appearance or demeanor that would invite suspicion or attract attention. He walked “erect like a soldier” and was “imperturbably cool,” noted one man who knew him—or, at least, thought he knew him. Henri Le Caron was, in fact, a former soldier, a veteran of the American Civil War who still used his
