People who were living in the West in 1856, well remember the terrible Winter of that year, and the suffering it occasioned among the poorer classes. Severity of weather, scarcity of provisions, and the high price of fuel, following hard upon a season of uncommon distress and disaster in all kinds of business, necessarily brought starvation and suffering to a large floating population, which had gathered into the little towns and settlements along the Missouri border. This was especially the case in the settlements of Kansas, which, by their supposed opportunities for profitable investment and occupation, had attracted a large emigration from other parts of the Union. Langford Peel was at this time a prosperous citizen of Leavenworth. Moved to compassion by the sufferings of those around him, he contributed generously to their relief. Among others who shared liberally of his bounty were Messrs. Conley and Rucker, two men whom he found in a state of complete destitution, and invited to his house, where they were comfortably provided for until Spring, and then aided with means to return to their friends.
Of Peel’s antecedents, previous to this time, I know nothing. He was regarded as one of those strange compounds who unite in their character the extremes of recklessness and kindness. In his general conduct there was more to approve than condemn, though his fearless manner, his habits of life, and his occupation as a gambler, gave him a doubtful reputation. Among people of his own class he was specially attractive, because of his great physical strength, manly proportions, undoubted bravery, and overflowing kindness. To these qualities he added a repose of manner that gave him unbounded influence in his sphere. No man was more prompt to make the cause of a friend his own, to resent an injury, or punish an insult. His dexterity with the revolver was as marvellous as the ready use he made of it when provoked. His qualifications as a rough and ready borderer bespoke a foreground in his life, of much exposure and practice.
The year 1858 found him in Salt Lake City, in reduced circumstances. As if to mark this reverse with peculiar emphasis, Conley and Rucker, the sharers of his bounty two years before, were also there, engaged in prosperous business. They had seemingly forgotten their old benefactor, and treated him with coldness and neglect. Peel was an entire stranger to all save them, and felt bitterly their ingratitude.
A citizen by the name of Robinson, who had been attracted by the manly figure of Peel, observed him, a few days after his arrival, seated upon a log in the rear of the Salt Lake House, apparently in deep study. Calling his partner to the door, he inquired if he knew him.
“His name is Peel, I have been told,” was the reply.
“He is in trouble.”
“Yes, he’s got no money, and is a stranger.”
“Do you know him?”
“No, I never spoke to him. I only know he’s in distress, destitute, and has no friends. He’s the man who took care of a lot of boys that were dead broke, that hard winter at Leavenworth.”
“He is? If I didn’t think he’d take it as an insult, I’d go out and offer him some money.”