But lynch law is only half the system. It is always accompanied by something else, which I have heard described as ‘the use of the pistol.’ This has, from the first, been maintained in America long after Judge Lynch has retired from the scene. It is still not unknown in Washington and New York. But in the ever-advancing frontier of civilisation, it has all along been in active operation. Every man in the West goes always armed. And it is one of the most imperative of the laws of Western society, that, if a man insults you in any way, you are bound then and there to shoot him dead. Society requires you to do it, and if you do not, you will be shot yourself; for the man who has insulted you, supposing that you can only be waiting for an opportunity, will think it better to be beforehand with you. This is their substitute for the old European law of duelling, which required that if a man insulted you, you should give him a chance of shooting you also. The Western plan is that you should shoot him. It is enforced too by the same kind of social considerations, and attended by the same immunities, and its object is the same—to oblige men, at the peril of their lives, to behave themselves discreetly and politely.
‘He might have done some Mischief.’
The following incident was told me by a thoroughly credible eyewitness: it will show how cheaply society holds, in this part of the world, the lives of its troublesome members. A dozen or more men were seated, drinking and smoking and yarning, in front of the bar of a Shyenne hotel. One of the troublesome class, in whom whisky was just then overcoming discretion, took out his revolver, and, flourishing it about, announced that everyone present had to acknowledge that he was the finest fellow in the world. Just as he said this two gentlemen came in, and, not knowing what was passing, walked up to the bar, close to where the swaggerer was seated. This took off his attention from the rest of the company, for he now turned to the newcomers, and pointing his pistol at the one nearest to him, told him to make the acknowledgment. The gentleman, finding himself taken at a disadvantage, and thinking it most likely that, if he put his hand behind him for his pistol, he should, while doing so, be shot by the tipsy desperado, began to do as he was required. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘you are a monstrous fine fellow; I had no idea there were such fine fellows out here.’ While he was saying this, his companion took his own pistol from its sling behind him, put it to the swaggerer’s head, and blew out his brains. As the man fell to the ground, and he deliberately replaced his pistol, he said, by way not so much of explanation as of comment, ‘That chap might have done some mischief.’ Not another remark was made or word spoken on the occasion. Those who were in favour of order said nothing, as they approved of what had been done; while those who belonged to the troublesome class were also silent, because they thought it wiser not to show their colours. When it suited the manager’s convenience, he sent one of the boys of the hotel to dig a hole in the prairie for the corpse; and with that the matter ended.
Armament of a German Herdmaster.
Having breakfasted at six, I was out at the first dawn, and again, as I frequently did afterwards, saw the sun rise on the prairie. Till he was above the horizon, and it was full day, it was impossible to distinguish the prairie from the sea. The same effect is also at times during the day observable. In the morning I even saw something like rippling waves on the surface, resulting, I suppose, from the way in which the level rays struck upon the little inequalities of the foot or two of haze that rested on the ground. At a distance of forty or fifty miles the snowy range was already tinted with light, while the lower intervening ranges were still black masses. The aspects of human society, as well as of outward nature, are here so unlike anything with which the English traveller is familiar at home, that he is ever feeling conscious that new pictures are being added to the furniture of his mind.
CHAPTER XV.
THE ARMAMENT AND EXPERIENCE OF A GERMAN HERDMASTER—A STAGE-COACH ON THE PLAINS—THE PARTY IN THE COACH—THE ONLY COLONEL I MET IN THE UNITED STATES—THE COLONEL’S WIFE—A COLORADO HERDMASTER—A PHILADELPHIAN GRADUATE—TWO JOCOSE DENVER STORE-KEEPERS—ADVANTAGE OF HAVING ONE’S RIFLE IN THE COACH—A CALIFORNIAN’S ACCOUNT OF A SKIRMISH WITH INDIANS—MANNERS AND LIFE AT A HOUSE ON THE PLAINS—A LADY OF THE PLAINS—AMERICAN SOCIETY JUDGES MEN FAIRLY—BETWEEN SHYENNE AND DENVER.
While I was waiting for the Denver coach, and watching the changing scene, a German, with whom I had had some conversation in the railway car for the two previous days, arrived at the coach-office. We were both to start at the same time by stage—he for 1,200 miles over the mountains; I to coast along the mountains to Denver, the point at which I proposed entering them. On meeting him he held out his hand, saying, ‘Well, I see we have both got safe through the night. But,’ he added, ‘I was prepared for them if anyone had meddled with me, I had sixteen bullets ready.’ As he said this, he drew aside his coat to show me his eight-shooting revolver hanging at his back; and then putting his hands into his breeches pockets, took from each a small four-shooter. This gentleman told me that he was doing very well as a stock-keeper in Oregon and Idaho; that he had had Durham cattle driven and carried by rail from New York to these Pacific States, more than 3,000 miles, in which journey, of course, they had crossed the prairies and the Rocky Mountains. He knew all the Pacific coast well, having been in the States of California, Washington, or Oregon; in British Columbia, and in Sitka. Of British Columbia he thought nothing ever could be made, as there was no agricultural land in the colony. At Cariboo everything, even to flour, cost a dollar per pound. The Indians about Sitka were the largest men he had ever seen; few were less than six feet in height or 200 pounds in weight. I never met with one of this description of settlers who belonged to any branch of the Latin race; they are all Anglo-Saxons, Scandinavians, or Germans.
In a Coach on the Plains.
The coach started at seven o’clock, with six fine horses. There was no postilion for the leaders, as was customary in our coaching days. The driver divided the reins between both hands, and off we started at a gallop. Perhaps some of the Shyennese, who witnessed our dashing departure, would not have been sorry to have left the place with us. The coach was full. It was constructed (but without the befitting capacity) to carry nine persons inside and three outside. Experience only can enable one to comprehend how much packing and squeezing and contriving are requisite for arranging nine persons in a space barely sufficient for six. You must imagine a coach a size larger than our old stages; and when three persons have been jammed into the front, and as many into the back seat, a bench is let down from the side which reaches from door to door—and on this three more persons, to speak ironically, are accommodated. Though it was mid-winter, I should have liked my neighbours all the better had they been a little further off. What then must be the effects of such proximity on an American summer-day, with the thermometer on the roof of the coach at 120°, and a cloud of prairie dust pouring in at the window? If one of these Western coaches—destined for its whole existence to work on the plains and mountains, and never to pass over a furlong of made road, could have been exhibited in London and Paris in ’62 and ’67, people on this side would have been astonished at the strength of their springs, and of the whole of their construction.