Seven and Nine years Among the Camanches and Apaches: An Autobiography

by Edwin Eastman

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.