Stanley Clifford Weyman

Stanley Clifford Weyman, born Stephen Jacob Weinberg in Brooklyn, New York, on November 25, 1890, presents a fascinating case study in social mobility through deception. Facing economic limitations that precluded higher education, Weyman developed an extraordinary talent for impersonation, transforming himself into figures of authority and influence. His initial foray into this clandestine career began around 1910 as a U.S. consul representative to Morocco.

This early exploit, characterized by feasting in upscale New York City establishments, was quickly curtailed by an arrest for fraud, foreshadowing a pattern of ambitious deceptions followed by inevitable exposure. Weyman’s subsequent impersonations as a Serbian military attaché and a U.S. Navy lieutenant, where he ingeniously used his fabricated identities as mutual references, demonstrated a developing sophistication in his fraudulent schemes.

These early arrests, however, did not deter him; instead, they seemed to fuel a relentless pursuit of new personas and more elaborate deceptions, highlighting a remarkable resilience in the face of legal consequences.

Following his release in 1915, Weyman escalated his impersonations, adopting the guise of Lieutenant Commander Ethan Allen Weinberg, Consul General for Romania. This role allowed him to inspect the formidable USS Wyoming and host an ostentatious dinner at the Astor Hotel. The publicity generated by such high-profile events, however, proved to be his undoing, as federal agents, alerted by the advance press, apprehended him at the party.

His reported quip about waiting for dessert underscores a peculiar blend of audacity and a perceived entitlement that characterized many of his actions. His impersonation of Royal St. Cyr, a lieutenant in the British Army Air Corps, in 1917, further illustrates his willingness to infiltrate various military branches.

His arrest during an inspection tour of the Brooklyn Armory, prompted by a suspicious military tailor, indicates that while his deceptions were elaborate, they were not always foolproof, often relying on the gullibility of those around him.

One of Weyman's most significant and audacious impersonations occurred in 1921 when he encountered Princess Fatima of Afghanistan, who was seeking official recognition in the United States. Weyman, posing as a Naval Liaison Officer from the State Department, exploited the princess's situation by apologizing for the government's lack of attention and promising to arrange a meeting with the President. He successfully solicited $10,000 from the princess for 'gifts' to State Department officials, funds he used to secure a private railway carriage and opulent hotel accommodations for her entourage.

His subsequent actions involved visiting the State Department, name-dropping senators, and ultimately securing appointments for the princess with Secretary of State Charles Evans Hughes and President Warren G. Harding. While minor breaches in protocol raised suspicions, Weyman's appearance alongside these dignitaries in the press led to his indictment for impersonating a naval officer and a two-year prison sentence.

This episode highlights his ability to navigate complex social and political landscapes, albeit through illicit means.

Weyman’s career continued with a remarkable variety of impersonations. He posed as a company doctor in Lima, Peru, throwing lavish parties until his credit ran out. He even gained access to Rudolph Valentino's funeral as a physician to Pola Negri, issuing press releases and establishing a faith-healing clinic.

During World War II, he served a seven-year sentence for advising draft dodgers on feigning medical conditions. In 1948, he infiltrated the United Nations as a journalist, befriending delegates like Warren Austin and Andrei Gromyko. His downfall at the UN came when he inquired about his U.S. citizenship affecting diplomatic accreditation, a question that drew the attention of the State Department.

In 1954, he attempted to secure a home improvement loan for a non-existent property, failing to convince a judge of his insanity. Tragically, in August 1960, while working as a night porter at a New York City hotel, Weyman was fatally shot attempting to thwart a robbery. The investigating detective’s observation that Weyman's final act was brave, despite his extensive criminal past, offers a complex epilogue to a life defined by deception, suggesting that even a chameleon of lies could exhibit genuine courage.