THE "VIGILANTS."
With the influx of population to our settlement came adventurers of all
classes; desperadoes, gamblers, broken down professional men, _nymphs du
pave_ of the coarse and vulgar sort, gentlemen who "had interests" in
"wild-cat" mines in half the counties of the Pacific States, _greasers_,
or Mexicans, Indians (_pueblas_)--in short, a conglomerate mass of
humanity; or, judging by later events, one might rather say
_inhumanity_--such as is nowhere to be seen but in the mining towns of
the far West. Under the instructions of Ned Harding, we had on our first
arrival "located" all the "claims" that there was any probability of our
working, and we were therefore secured against interference on the part
of the new comers, who went prospecting all over the adjacent country,
locating claims by the hundred.
As the process of "locating" claims may be new to the reader, I will
give a brief description of it.
The first thing is to find your "lead," for this precious metal is not
found indiscriminately in every rock or ledge you may chance upon. It is
found only in the quartz rock, a ledge of which, say twenty feet in
thickness, may run like a curbstone set on edge for many miles across
hills and in valleys. It may be a mile in depth, and maintain a nearly
uniform thickness, being perfectly distinct from the casing rock on each
side of it, and keeping its distinctive character always, no matter how
deep or how far into the earth it extends. Wherever it is bored into,
gold and silver are found; but none in the meaner rock surrounding it.
This peculiar rock formation is called a "lead;" and one of these you
must first find before you have anything to "locate" a claim upon. When
your prospecting has resulted in the discovery of a "lead," you write
out and put up a "notice" as follows:
NOTICE.
I (or we), the undersigned, claim one (or more, according to the number
of the party) claim of three hundred feet, and one for discovery, on
this silver--(or gold) bearing quartz lead, or lode, extending east and
west from this notice, with all its dips, spurs, and angles, extensions
and sinuosities, together with fifty feet of ground on each side for
working the same.
Then you file a copy of the same with the Mining Recorder in the town,
and your claim is "entered." In order to secure it, however, you must,
within ten days, do a certain amount of work upon the property, or any
one may re-enter it at the expiration of that time.
Among the most important citizens in every mining community are the
assayers, of whom there are generally a swarm to be found about every
new strike; some of them the veriest charlatans that ever disgraced an
honorable profession.
When you have located your claim, the next thing is to select some
specimens and subject them to the test of the "fire assay." For this
purpose it is customary to select the richest lump you can find, and
take it to the assayer. On the result of his assay, he will predicate
that a ton of such ore would yield hundreds, perhaps thousands of
dollars; and in this way many a worthless mine has been sold for a large
price. In fact, I think, as a rule, the speculators made far more than
the miners themselves.
We had at one time an assayer in our camp, who obtained such rich
results from every specimen of rock brought to him, that he soon had a
virtual monopoly of the business. No matter what specimen might be
brought to him, he would demonstrate that it contained so large a
portion of gold or silver, that the development of the mine could not
fail to be profitable. Some of his rivals in the trade, becoming jealous
of his superior success, conspired together and concocted a plan for his
overthrow. One of them procured somewhere an old lapstone, and breaking
it into small fragments, selected one as the specimen to be subjected to
the intended victim for testing. They let several of the principal
miners into the secret, and as there had been some doubts of the
reliability of the reports of the assayer in question, they readily
assented to assist in proving the truth of the matter. So one of them
brought him the "specimen" and left it for assay. The result was
encouraging in the extreme; for in the course of an hour the assayer
sent in his report, from which it appeared that a ton of rock equal to
the sample, would yield $1,324.80 in silver, and $214.58 in gold. The
whole matter was at once made public, and the discomfited charlatan
immediately found that important business called him elsewhere, and
departed between two days. It was well for him that he did so; for so
great was the popular indignation, that it is probable he would have
found a _permanent_ residence in the vicinity, could the excited miners
have laid hands on him at this time.
The town of "Harding" had now developed into an embryo city. We had
nearly two thousand inhabitants, representing every grade of
civilization and barbarism, principally the latter. At night the place
presented an animated spectacle; for about every third shanty was either
a drinking den or a gambling hell. All were brilliantly lighted and wide
open to the street, from which you could see the excited groups around
the gaming tables, or before the bars. Every man went armed to the
teeth. Fights and affrays were of almost daily--nay, hourly--occurrence.
The crack of the pistol became a very familiar sound in my ears, and so
frequent were the scenes of violence and murder, that I began to think
that the men I was among were worse than the savages with whom my lot
had been cast in former years.
To such a pass did the insolence and brutality of these desperadoes come
at last, that the better class of the miners began to talk among
themselves of the necessity for doing something to check it; but none
seemed disposed to take the lead, and things went on from bad to worse,
until the arrival of a new actor upon the scene brought them to a
climax, and disorder and violence culminated in a sudden and severe
spasm of justice.
The new arrival, who was destined to be the principal figure in the
tragic scenes about to be enacted, was a Kentuckian, named Reid. He was
some twenty-eight or thirty years of age, of medium size and finely
proportioned, but very athletic. He had a frank and engaging expression
of countenance, and nothing in his appearance would seem to indicate the
hardened ruffian; yet he was reported to have slain thirty-two men in
affrays or personal difficulties since he came into the mining country.
From the very day of his arrival, this man became the acknowledged
leader of all the lawless elements of our community; and as he seemed to
be thirsting for notoriety, outrage followed outrage in rapid
succession.
Among our own original party was a quiet, inoffensive German, named
Schaeffer, than whom a more peaceable man could nowhere be found.
Against him Reid seamed to have a special spite from the moment he
first encountered him; and finally, meeting him one evening in the "El
Dorado" saloon, he forced a quarrel on him, and then shot poor Schaeffer
dead, before the latter had time to make a movement in his own defense.
He apparently supposed that this would be passed over in the same manner
as his previous ill deeds; but for once he was mistaken. In killing
Schaeffer he had roused against him a determined and bitter enemy, none
other than Ned Harding himself, who was now acting as mayor, or alcalde,
of the town named in his honor. Ned quickly gathered together our own
party, and some twenty-five of the leading men in the place, and
announced his determination to form a "Vigilance Committee," and rid the
town of the desperadoes who infested it. The entire party acquiesced in
the wisdom of the proposal, and the committee was organized then and
there. After some consultation, a plan of operations was agreed upon,
and at once put in practice.
The next morning a neatly written note appeared posted in several
prominent places in the camp, warning all objectionable characters to
leave town within twenty-four hours, or their lives would be forfeited.
This document was signed, "The Vigilants," and naturally created
considerable stir and excitement among the parties at whom it was
directed, and many of them took the warning and departed; but some of
the more desperate, in all about twenty in number, banded themselves
together under the leadership of Reid, and swore that they would never
leave town, except of their own free will, and defied the Vigilants to
touch any one of their number.
At the expiration of the twenty-four hours, we determined to arrest all
the members of Reid's party, and deal with them as they deserved.
Accordingly, we mustered our forces, and at the same time made known our
intentions to most of the more prominent men in the camp. When all our
arrangements were completed, we proceeded in search of our _game_, and
in a couple of hours had caught and caged every member of the gang, with
two exceptions. One of these had in some way become aware of our
intentions, and he found it convenient to seek another locality without
delay. The other man was no less a person than Reid himself; and he went
about boasting that no man dare arrest him, and threatening with instant
death any man who should attempt it. This duty Ned Harding had reserved
for himself, and when all was in readiness, he set out to accomplish it.
As he was not known to be a "Vigilant," and was noted as a man of very
quiet and peaceable character, no suspicion attached to him of being
concerned in the matter. Arming himself, he went into the main street of
the village, and entering one of the principal saloons, confronted the
desperado. The latter must have seen in Ned's eye that he meant
mischief, for he made a motion as if to draw a weapon; but before he
could do so, he was seized by the throat, and thrown to the ground with
the full force of Ned's muscular arm. Other "vigilants," to the number
of about twenty, closed in around the fallen man and his captor, with
drawn revolvers, and guarded against any attempt at rescue. Reid was
securely bound, lifted to his feet, and placed in close confinement in
one of the shanties belonging to our party, under the guard of two
well-armed and determined men.
Two hours later all the prisoners were brought up for execution. The
miners turned out in large numbers, and forming in solid column, armed
to the teeth, they marched up the principal street and halted in front
of the building where most of the prisoners were confined. The doomed
men were quickly brought out, and informed of the fate in store for
them, at the same time Ned Harding made his appearance, leading Reid,
and the same announcement was made to the latter. Such a scene as
ensued, I hope never to see again. These apparently fearless
desperadoes, who had repeatedly imbrued their hands in human blood
without an instant's hesitation, were transformed on the moment, into a
pack of whining cowards; begging and entreating in the most abject
manner, that their lives might be spared.
Reid, the ringleader of all, was the most utter craven of the whole
number, and shrieks, curses and prayers for mercy rolled unceasingly
from his lips, until the rope choked his utterance. Just outside the
camp, stood a considerable grove of trees; to this we repaired with our
prisoners, and in ten minutes more they were run up, one after another,
and each hung convulsed in the death agony, at the end of a lariat.
To me, the utter cowardice displayed by these ruffians was
surprising--but there is something about the desperado nature that is
unaccountable--at least, it seems unaccountable, and it is this. The
true desperado is gifted with splendid courage, and yet he will take the
most infamous advantage of his enemy; armed and free, he will stand up
before a host and fight until he is cut to pieces, and yet, when brought
under the gallows, he will plead and cry like a child. The case of Reid,
was especially notable, from his bloody reputation, and the many
instances of courage he had shown in his conflicts with other outlaws.
Yet, when brought face to face with death, in a different form, he
seemed the veriest poltroon that ever walked.
Words cost nothing, and it is easy to call him a coward (as all executed
men, who fail to die "game" are invariably called by unreasoning
people), and when a man like Reid, so exhausts himself by tears, prayers
and lamentations, that he has scarcely strength enough to stand under
the gallows, it seems hardly possible that he could be otherwise. Yet he
had frequently defied and invited the vengeance of banded Rocky Mountain
cut-throats, by shooting down their comrades or leaders, and never
offering to hide or fly; he had shown himself to be a man of
unquestioned bravery, for no coward would dare do such things.
We often read of the most brutal and cowardly murderers, who, when on
the gallows, make their last dying speeches without a tremor of the
voice, and are swung off, into eternity, with what seems like the
calmest fortitude. Hence, it seems clear, that in such low and degraded
natures, it cannot be _moral_ courage that sustains them. But if moral
courage is not the requisite quality, what is it that such men as Reid,
lack? Bloody, desperate, reckless, and yet kindly mannered and urbane
gentlemen, who never hesitate to warn their enemies of their intention
to kill them on sight, when next they meet. It seems to me a question
worthy of study and solution.
The executions over, we returned to the town, first detaching a party to
remove and bury the bodies. Then the assemblage quietly dispersed, and
that night our little community saw the first peace and quiet it had
known for many a day.
The condition of affairs in the new mining districts was peculiar. One
reason why murder and outrage were so prevalent, was, that the rough
element generally predominated, and among this class a person is not
respected until he has "killed his man," as they express it. When any
new arrival came into camp, no one thought of inquiring if he was honest
or industrious, but, had he killed his man? If not, he was a person of
small consequence, and unworthy of further notice; if he had, the
cordiality of his reception, and his standing in the community was
graduated according to the number of his victories.
No man could rise to any position of influence, with bloodless hands,
without long and weary labor, but if he were known to have killed half a
dozen men, his worth was at once appreciated, and he became a man of
note in the community.
Hence, it is not surprising that many men were killed without the
pretext of provocation; so impatient were these persons to achieve
distinction and emerge from their obscurity, and become shining lights
among the fraternity of desperadoes. "There goes the man that killed
Jack Smith," was the sort of celebrity mostly coveted by this class of
people; and I know of several cases, where persons tried to "kill their
men," for no other reason, and in some instances were successful, in
others, got killed themselves for their pains.
In such communities it is utterly impossible to convict a man of murder,
arising from one of these public brawls or affrays, and it is only when
patience ceases to be a virtue, and the long-suffering miners and others
of the law-abiding classes, rise in their might, and by an
indiscriminate execution of all persons of bad character, clear the
atmosphere for a time, that such crimes are ever punished.
The desperado stalked the streets with a swagger, graded according to
the number of his homicides, and a nod of recognition from him, was
sufficient to make an humble admirer happy for the rest of the day.
The deference that was paid to a desperado of wide reputation and who
kept his "private graveyard," as the phrase went, was marked and
cheerfully accorded. When he moved along the sidewalk in his excessively
long-tailed frock coat, shiny stump-toed boots, and with dainty little
slouch hat, tipped over his left eye, the small-fry roughs made room for
his majesty; when he entered the restaurant, the waiters deserted
bankers and merchants, to overwhelm him with obsequious attention; when
he shouldered his way to the bar, the shouldered parties wheeled
indignantly, recognized him, and--apologized. They got a look in reply,
that made them tremble in their boots, and by this time, a gorgeous
barkeeper was leaning over the counter, proud of a degree of
acquaintance that enabled him to use such familiarity as "how are yer
Jack, old feller; glad to see you; what'll you take? the old thing?"
meaning his usual drink of course.
The best known names in the mining towns, were those belonging to these
bloodstained heroes of the revolver. Governors, politicians,
capitalists, leaders of the legislature, and men who had made big
strikes, enjoyed some degree of fame, but it seemed local and
insignificant, when compared with the celebrity of such men as these.
There was a long list of them. They were brave, reckless men, and
carried their lives in their own hands.
To do them justice, they did their killing principally among themselves,
and seldom molested peaceable citizens, for they considered it small
credit to add to their trophies so small an affair as the life of a man
who was not "on the shoot," as they termed it. They killed each other on
slight provocation, and hoped and expected to be killed themselves, for
they considered it almost disgraceful for a man not to die "with his
boots on," as they expressed it.
Gradually their ranks were thinned by the ever ready pistol, but it was
not so much this, as the change in public sentiment, that caused them
mainly to disappear from the older mining communities. Now, except in
newly opened diggings, the genuine desperado is a thing of the past.