The Underground World: A mirror of life below the surface

by Thomas Wallace Knox

ONE EFFECT OF STEAM.

Piracy in the West Indies and other regions, as well as on the open sea, came to an end when steamers were brought into general use as ships of war. At the present day, piracy prevails only in those portions of the far east where the steamer is in comparatively little use.

The slave trade received its death blow within the past twenty years, when England and the United States, with other nations interested in its suppression, substituted war steamers for sailing ships along the coast of Africa. From the ports of the west coast of Africa, where the slave ships were laden, it was comparatively easy to escape under cover of a dark night; and, once fairly at sea, the slavers could bid defiance to their pursuers. With the wind, all had the same chance, and the slavers were generally so constructed and equipped as to be able to outsail their pursuers; but it became otherwise when the latter availed themselves of steam.

On land, in past times, brigandage flourished, and was profitable until the railway came into general use. A stage coach or a carriage with a private traveller, on a lonely road, might be robbed with comparative ease; but when the stage coach or the private carriage was exchanged for the railway train, robbery was not so easy. Enterprising brigands in Spain and other countries occasionally try their hands at robbing railway trains, but such exploits are rare. Safety in every way, whether against accidents or human malice, is rendered much greater by the use of steam. At the present day the countries most affected with brigandage are those where railways are comparatively scarce. Until within the past few years, California had no railway lines, and she was the most profitable field in all the United States for the exploits of robbers. Californians facetiously call highwaymen “road agents,” and I have heard sometimes that the Californians are proud of their existence.

AN ADVENTURE IN CALIFORNIA.

I remember some years ago taking a stage coach in the Golden State over a route infested with robbers. I had heard vague rumors of exciting scenes along the road, and we had no great objection to a small encounter with these artists of the revolver. As we started from the station near the infested region, the agents of the stage company furnished every man with a rifle, and told us to keep a sharp lookout for the road agents. About half of us were accustomed to fire-arms, but the other half evidently knew as much about the handling of a rifle as a horse knows about geometrical surveying. I was fearful at starting that, if we came to a fight, the accidents among us by the careless handling of our rifles would have caused more mortality and inflicted more wounds than the fire-arms of the robbers.

There were several points on the road where the robbers were looked for, and when we approached one of them, the driver would call our attention to the fact. Then everybody would move about in his seat, and straighten himself like a rooster ready for crowing; and some of the more timid ones would start as though they had suddenly dropped upon a chestnut bur. Our rifles were held in all sorts of ways, and with the barrels sticking out in different directions, the coach bore a faint resemblance to an enormous porcupine. Each of the dangerous places we passed without accident, and at the next station we left our rifles, and were thankful that the great peril was over.

I afterwards learned that the robbers had fully determined to attack us that day, but one of the party had gone on a drunk, and deranged their plan. Before that time I had regretted the habit of intemperance among the Californians, but when I heard of this occurrence, I was thankful that the principles of Father Mathew did not prevail among them. With all due regard to John B. Gough and the cause he has advocated, I have no objection to every robber in the world getting blind drunk every morning, and remaining so for forty-eight hours at least.

Robberies on that route were of quite frequent occurrence. Since that time the railway has taken the place of the stage line, and the robbers are heard of no more,—all honor to James Watt and George Stephenson!

One of my fellow-passengers of that day had been over the route many times, and had been engaged in several fights. He entertained us with pleasing accounts—that is to say, the accounts were very interesting, but just at that time they were not calculated to be cheering.