Western Characters; or, Types of Border Life in the Western States

by John Ludlum McConnel

But, in the times of which we are writing, society was not yet definitely shaped—its elements were not bound together by the cohesive power of any legal cement—and no better rule was, therefore, to be expected, than the spontaneous suggestions of common sense. The minds of men were, moreover, habituated to a certain course of thought and action—(such as naturally obtains in a new state of society, where the absence of organization remits them to their own exertions for safety)—and it was, therefore, impossible that any artificial system should be at once adopted. The people had been accustomed to such primitive associations, as they had entered into “for the common defence and general welfare” of their infant communities; the rule of action had been swift, and sometimes very informal punishment, for every transgression; and this rule, having very well answered its purpose, though at the expense of occasional severity and injustice, they could not immediately understand the necessity for any other course of proceeding.

One of the characteristics of the early justice, then, was a supreme contempt for all mere form. He called it “nonsense” and could never comprehend its utility. To him, all ceremony was affectation, and the refinements of legal proceeding were, in his estimation, anti-republican innovations upon the original simplicity of mankind. Technicalities he considered merely the complicated inventions of lawyers, to exhibit their perverse ingenuity—traps to catch the well-meaning or unwary, or avenues of escape for the guilty. The rules of evidence he neither understood nor cared for; he desired “to hear all about” every cause brought before him; and the idea of excluding testimony, in obedience to any rule, he would never entertain. He acted upon the principle—though he probably never heard of the maxim—that “the law furnishes a remedy for every wrong;” and, if he knew of none in positive enactment, he would provide one, from the arsenal of his own sense of right. He never permitted anything to obstruct the punishment of one whom he had adjudged guilty; and, rather than allow a culprit to escape, he would order his judgment to be carried at once into effect, in the presence, and under the direction of the court.

He had a strong prejudice against every man accused of crime; and sometimes almost reversed the ancient presumption of the law, and held the prisoner guilty, until he proved himself innocent. He had unbounded confidence in the honesty of his neighbors and friends, and was unwilling to believe, that they would accuse a man of crime or misdemeanor, without very good cause. When it was proven that a crime had been committed, he considered the guilt of the prisoner already half established: it was, in his judgment, what one, better acquainted with legal terms, might have called “a prima facia case,” devolving the onus probandi (or burthen of proof) upon the accused. And this may have been one cause of the frequent resort to alibis—a mode of defence which, as we have already remarked, is even yet in great disrepute. If a defence, of some sort, was not, then, very clearly and satisfactorily made out, the justice had no hesitation in entering judgment, and ordering immediate punishment; for the right of appeal was not generally recognised, and the justice took original and final jurisdiction, where now his duties are merely those of preliminary examination and commitment.

In civil controversies—where such causes were presented for adjudication, which, however, was not very often—the order of proceeding was quite as summary. The justice heard the statements of the parties, and sometimes, not always, would listen to witnesses, also; then, taking the general “rights, interests, claims, and demands,” of both sides into consideration—and viewing himself, not as a judicial officer, but as a sort of referee or arbitrator—he would strike a balance between the disputants, and dismiss them to their homes, with a significant admonition to “keep the peace.” He usually acted upon the principle—no very erroneous one, either—that, when two respectable men resort to the law, as arbitrator of their controversies, they are both about equally blamable; and his judgments were accordingly based upon the corollary, that neither deserved to have all he claimed. This was the practice when any decision was made at all; but, in most cases, the justice acted as a pacificator, and, by his authority and persuasion, induced the parties to agree upon a compromise. For this purpose, he not unfrequently remitted both fees and costs—those due to the constables, as well as his own.

An instance of this pacific practice has been related to me as follows: Two neighbors had quarrelled about a small amount of debt, and, after sundry attempts to “settle,” finally went to law. The justice took them aside, on the day of trial, and proposed a basis of settlement, to which they agreed, on condition, that all costs should be remitted, and to this the magistrate at once pledged himself. But a difficulty arose: the constable, who had not been consulted in the arrangement, had had a long ride after the defendant, and having an unquestionable right to demand his fees, was unwilling to give them up. The justice endeavored to prevail with him by persuasion, but in vain. Finally, growing impatient of his obstinacy, he gave him a peremptory order to consent, and, on his refusal, fined him the exact amount of his fees for contempt, entered up judgment on the basis of the compromise, and adjourned the court!

The man who thus discourages litigation at the expense of his own official emoluments, may be forgiven a few irregularities of proceeding, in consideration of the good he effects; for although under such a system it was seldom that either party obtained his full and just rights, both were always benefited by the spirit of peace infused into the community. It would, perhaps, be well for the country now, were our legal officers actuated by the same motives; unfortunately, however, such men belong only to primitive times.

But the love of peace was not accompanied, in this character, as it usually is, by merciful judgment, for, as he was very swift in determining a prisoner's guilt, he was equally rigid in imposing the penalty. The enactments of the criminal code were generally so worded as to give some scope for the exercise of a compassionate and enlightened discretion; but when the decision lay in the breast of our justice, if he adjudged any punishment at all, it was usually the severest provided for by the statute. Half-measures were not adapted to the temper of the times or the character of the people; indeed, they are suited to no people, and are signal failures at all times, in all circumstances. Inflicting light punishments is like firing blank cartridges at a mob, they only irritate, without subduing; and as the latter course usually ends in unnecessary bloodshed, the former invariably increases the amount of crime.

Certainty of punishment may be—unquestionably is—a very important element in the administration of justice, but as nothing so strongly disinclines a man to entering the water as the sight of another drowning, so nothing will so effectually deter him from the commission of crime, as the knowledge that another has been severely punished for yielding to the same temptation. The justice, however, based the rigor of his judgments upon no such argument of policy. His austerity was a part of his character, and had been rendered more severe by the circumstances in which he had lived—the audacity of law-breakers, and the necessity for harsh penalties, in order for protection.

It will be observed that I say nothing of juries, and speak of justices of the peace, as officers having authority to decide causes alone. And, it must be recollected, that in the days of which I am writing, resort was very seldom had to this cumbersome and uncertain mode of adjudication. In civil causes, juries were seldom empanelled, because they were attended by very considerable expense and delay. The chief object, in going to law, moreover, was, in most cases, to have a decision of the matter in dispute; and juries were as prone to “hang” then as now. Suitors generally, therefore, would rather submit to the arbitration of the justice, than take the risk of delay and uncertainty, with a jury. In criminal causes, the case was very similar: the accused would as lief be judged by one prejudiced man as by twelve; for the same rigorous spirit which actuated the justice, pervaded also the juries; and (besides the chance of timidity or favor in the justice) in the latter he must take the additional risks of personal enmity and relationship to the party injured. Thus, juries were often discarded in criminal causes also, and we think their disuse was no great sacrifice. Such a system can derive its utility, in this country, only from an enlightened public sentiment: if that sentiment be capricious and oppressive, as it too often is, juries are quite as likely to partake its vices as legal officers: if the sentiment be just and healthy, no judicial officer dare be guilty of oppression. So that our fathers lost nothing in seldom resorting to this “palladium of our liberties,” and, without doubt, gained something by avoiding delay, uncertainty, and expense.

The reader will also observe, that I say nothing of higher courts. But the lines between the upper and lower tribunals were not so strictly drawn then as they now are, and the limits of jurisdiction were, consequently, very indefinite. Most of the characteristics, moreover, here ascribed to the justice of the peace, belonged, in almost an equal degree, to the judges of the circuit courts; and, though some of the latter were men of respectable legal requirements, the same off-hand mode of administering the law which distinguished the inferior magistrates, marked the proceedings of their courts also. Both occasionally assumed powers which they did not legally possess; both were guided more by their own notions of justice, than by the rules of law; and both were remarkable for their severity upon all transgressors. Neither cared much for the rules of evidence, each was equal to any emergency or responsibility, and both had very exalted ideas of their own authority.