Mont Tennes
Chapter 19 of the 1929 Illinois Crime Survey begins with this:
The complete life history of one man, were it known in every detail, would disclose practically all there is to know about syndicated gambling as a phase of organized crime in Chicago in the last quarter century. That man is Mont Tennes.
He was avowedly a real estate man, for a period the owner of a cash register company and for more than a score of years the proprietor of the General News Bureau, controlling the wires for the gathering and dispensing of race-track news in Chicago and principal parts of the United States. Repeated exposes have always found him in control of strings of handbooks and gambling houses in Chicago and other urban centers.
The ramifications of his deals to form gambling rings or to complete the monopoly of gambling, his alliances with and wars of violence against competitors, would involve the name of every gambler of any consequence in Chicago for this period. His control over politicians and officials for purposes of protection for himself, his associates and subsidiaries, or control over the police to gain immunity or even to use police raids for the destruction of competitors and enemies; his 
Clarence Darrow was Mont Tennes’ lawyer when he was called in to face federal judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis in 1916. (Photo courtesy of the Library of Congress.) experiences as defendant prosecuted in state and federal courts and in civil suits brought by crushed or disgruntled gamblers, exhibit a marked continuity despite changing policies of destruction, connivance or regulation with changing governmental administrations and changing officials—state’s attorneys, mayors and police chiefs; a persistence in the face of spasmodic reform agitations, newspaper exposes and investigations of grand juries and courts, federal and state, and of municipal authorities. All of these phases of the continuity of organized gambling unfold in the life of this powerful overlord and disclose the reaches of organized crime as well.
In other words, Mont Tennes was Al Capone before Al Capone, the most powerful figure in Chicago’s underworld. Actually, Tennes should be credited with establishing a roadmap for Capone’s rise and reign. He was brutal in seizing power and resourceful in keeping it—displaying a knack for the best ways to undercut enemies, always able to find the right to find the right police or governmental official to bribe and never leaving an opening for the courts to successfully prosecute.
Where Capone’s main racket was alcohol, though, Tennes was the king of gambling. Tennes began his rise to power on the North Side, just after the turn of the century, and secured his success with the astute purchase of the Payne Telegraph Service and the establishing of the General News Bureau, which distributed (via the telegraph service) the results of horse races from around the country. Soon after, Tennes dominated the gambling halls and pool rooms of Chicago.
Naturally, other gambling syndicates weren’t happy about that. In June of 1907, Tennes was attacked by a lone “slugger” while walking with his wife. “I am a marked man,” Tennes told the Chicago Evening American. That attack set of a two-year bombing war between Chicago’s gambling factions. The Crime Survey counted six bombs in the first three months of the campaign, three aimed at Tennes. He dodged all three, though. The bombings continued through 1909, but by the end of that year, a truce was declared and Tennes had won the war for Chicago’s gambling dollars. He was Chicago’s gambling king, and one of the city’s wealthiest men.
Tennes even managed to best Judge Kenesaw Mountain Landis. In October 1916, Landis was investigating a blackmail scam when he stumbled onto witnesses involved at a low level in Tennes’ gambling business. Over the course of two days, Landis pressed several hapless witnesses into revealing some of the inner workings of the General News Bureau—the locations of Tennes-controlled handbooks, that he had been operating in the same places for seven years, the fact that he gets 50 percent of the profit and even Tennes’ real first name (it was Jacob). Finally, Tennes himself showed up in court with his lawyer, Clarence Darrow, who had held a conference with the loose-lipped witnesses. “As a result of this conference,” the Tribune reported, “the fear of self-incrimination took a strong hold on all the gamblers.” Tennes refused to answer any of Landis’ most important questions. City and state officials promised full investigations. That never happened, though. Thus ended Landis’ confrontation with Tennes.
Tennes liked to remain out of public view, especially after he had secured his empire. He was semi-retired in 1918 (he often claimed he was retired), but still making rafts of money. Still, he did have one curious name among his friends—Cubs president Charley Weeghman. One of the odd features of the Black Sox trial was the calling of Weeghman as a witness. Under oath, Weeghman testified to his close relationship with Tennes. Weeghman said Tennes told him in August 1919 that the upcoming World Series would be fixed. Weeghman claimed he didn’t give the notion much credence, and thus, could not remember whether he had reported it to baseball officials.
Of course, why Weeghman associated with the likes of Tennes, the most prominent Chicago gambling figure of his day, remains a mystery.
