Indian Depredations—The model Mail Contractor—Rifles and Revolvers—Importance of a Scalp—Indian Chief reconnoitering—Saving dead Bodies—Death of a Warrior—The Charge—A proud Trophy.
Sunset on the Prairie—Animal Life—A solitary Hunt—The Buffalo Chase—Desperate Encounter with an Indian—Ingenious Signal—Returning to Camp—Minute Guns—A welcome Return.
Previousto the year 1850 there was no regular mail service between the valley of the Mississippi and New Mexico and Utah Territories. In selling lands to settlers and taking these communities under the protecting care of the nation, the Government was bound in good faith to give them a regular mail. This, like all other mail service, is carried on without much regard to the question whether the actual receipts from the locality will be remunerative or not.
The commencement of this service in 1850, called out the energies of some of our most daring and enterprising business men. A tract of country nearly one thousand miles in extent had to be traversed, where there were no civilized inhabitants, and but one or two military posts.
The Indian tribes, finding their game disappear before the unerring rifle of the white hunter, and learning the taste of the luxuries of civilized life without the industry to procure them, became at first sullen and despairing, then hostile and revengeful. A detailed account of the "hair breadth 'scapes," the dangers, losses, and tragedies in encounters with hostileIndians, in transporting the United States mails across these plains, would form one of the most remarkable chapters in the postal history of the world.
One mail contractor on the route from Independence, Missouri, to Santa Fé, by his success in transporting the mails safely, and his daring and diplomacy with the Indians, has become eminent among his countrymen, and dreaded by the hostile tribes whom he has encountered. The treachery so fatally prevalent in meetings between small bands of whites and these dark sons of the forest, and the cunning and boldness displayed in stealing the horses and cattle that belong to the "pale faces," have made it necessary that great caution should be used, and also that the Indians should be made to feel the force of that terrible weapon the modern rifle. The Indian has long since learned the superiority that the possession of "revolvers" gives to the white hunters. And he has also learned at what distance it is safe for him to approach the camp or the traveling party of his foes. They do not consider that there is much security in any distance less than three hundred yards, when well mounted and in rapid motion.
The honor attached to the possession of scalps, and the dismal forebodings attending the loss of a beloved chief, make all the tribes particularly cautious that their leaders shall not be too much exposed, and that their slain shall not fall into the hands of the enemy. A reckless daring displayed by a chief, always gives him honor with his tribe, and this is proportioned to the success which attends his efforts and skill, whether in the offensive or defensive.
The mail contractor before alluded to, is a man of great humanity as well as courage, and prefers making now and then a terrible example, rather than wage an indiscriminate warfare with tribes inveterately hostile.
After the tragic occurrences attending the capture and terrible death of Mrs. White, with several others in a party of California emigrants near Santa Fé, the Indians, emboldened by success, seemed to feel that they had the power and didnot lack the will to drive all white travelers from the plains. Our "model mail contractor," in addition to the heavy responsibility of conveying from fifteen hundred weight to a ton and a half of the United States mails, often had intrusted to his care, coin and gold dust in considerable quantities, and the lives and effects of numerous passengers.
A usual "mail train" consisted of three covered wagons, with elliptic springs, each drawn by six mules, guarded by eight or ten men, and carrying perhaps as many passengers.
Thirty miles a day was a usual drive, and this gave several hours' rest in every twenty-four. By having plenty of Sharp's rifles, and Colt's six-shooting cavalry pistols, the entire company of men and passengers formed a terrible phalanx, able to fire three or four hundred shots without any delay in loading.
The Indians soon learned torespectthese parties, and usually gave them a wide berth, not venturing to attack them though outnumbering them by more than ten to one.
Soon after the above-mentioned barbarous transactions near Santa Fé, the mail was on its way accompanied by the contractor himself. One morning, marks of hostile Indians were quite frequent. A large camp was passed where the fires still burned, and newly picked bones of buffalo and deer were scattered around.
In the course of the forenoon, several Indians were seen, and at the noon rest, their whole party was in sight, numbering apparently one hundred and fifty or more. The main body kept three or four hundred yards off, but one daring warrior, evidently their chief, would ride in a wide circuit, approaching sometimes within a hundred and fifty or two hundred yards of the mail wagons. He seemed to be reconnoitering; and though the mail party, passengers and all, did not exceed a dozen persons, there seemed to be little disposition to attack them. The chief—as he proved to be—was splendidly dressed; the long feathers on his head waving in the wind, and mounted on a milk white horse, he seemed the Murat of his nation.
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A shield of raw hide, dried in the sun, quite common among the Indians, covered his entire person from his saddle to his neck. Though within rifle shot, his swift riding and the protection afforded by the shield, gave but little chance for a successful shot. In the most daring and impudent manner he rode several times in a semicircle, reducing the distance between his followers and the little band of whites, at least one half.
The mail contractor told his men to stand by their arms, and be ready for an attack. He then took his Sharp's rifle and lay down on the ground, resting his gun across a stone. He looked across the sights, and saw the chief "wheel his daring flight" within good gun range, but always on the full run with his head just in sight over the shield. Each Indian is provided with a rope orlariatmade of hide, and this is fastened by one end around the rider's waist, and by the other to the saddle, that in the event of his being killed, the horse will drag off the dead body and thus prevent its falling into the hands of his enemies.
Some accident happened to the chief on the white charger; his stirrup broke, or something took place which obliged him to dismount. He was then about a hundred and seventy yards from the mail camp, and as he dismounted on the farther side, he was no fairer mark than before. It was easy enough to shoot down the horse, but that would accomplish nothing, as the chief was nearer to his friends than to his foes. It was evident that he must, to a certain extent, expose himself, when he mounted, and as he sprang up in his stirrup, his breast for a moment presented a fair mark.
The sharp ring of the rifle was heard, and the chief lay on the ground, while the blood sprinkled the snowy flank of the beautiful charger. He was shot through the heart!
The horse sprung, and the weight of the dead chief broke thelariatclear from the saddle. The consternation among the Indians was terrible. Drawing their knives and pistols, the mail carriers gave a yell, and charged directly at the wholearray of Indians. The head of the little band, whose successful shot had so opportunely killed the chief, had given orders not to attack except on the defensive, but nothing could restrain them; and appalled as much by the daring bravery of the whites as by the sudden death of their chief, the warriors broke and fled.
The scalp of the unfortunate Indian was soon stripped from the skull, and, with its dark and flowing locks, formed a trophy of the short combat, and made the subject of a tale around the fireside of the bold and hardy pioneer.
We have room for but one more narrative of border life, and the perils of mail carrying in the backwoods; and this is also an incident in the life of our "model mail contractor."
At a period anterior to the events just related, the mail, with quite a number of wagons, was wending its way toward Santa Fé. The party were near the banks of the Cimmeron, and then in the country of the Arrapahoes. Large herds of buffalo were constantly visible, but no Indians had been seen for some days.
It was a beautiful afternoon in June, the slowly descending sun illuminating one of the grandest scenes in nature—a broad rolling prairie covered with verdure, and presenting one checkered field of animal life. Beautiful antelopes, that flew rather than ran, and scarce seemed to touch the earth; stately elks, with branching horns, gallantly guarding their gregarious herds, and the unwieldy bison, far more numerous than all the rest, numbering hundreds of thousands, and blackening the plain as far as the eye could reach. Our hero of many an Indian skirmish and numerous buffalo hunts, mounted his horse to go and select an animal from the vast herd, which should furnish supper for his party.
He was mounted on a fleet animal, but after getting fairly away from the train, he found he had omitted to put on his spurs. It was in a section of country where small streams form deep ravines, some of them nearly as abrupt, though notas deep as the awfulcanonsof the Gila and the head branches of the Rio Grande. He singled out a fat buffalo cow, and drawing his "Colt," dashed on to get near and be sure of a fatal shot at the first fire. Not being able to spur his horse, the animal led him a rapid race, and taking a path, followed it down a dark ravine, where a slender stream gurgled idly between its banks.
His horse, accustomed to the sport, went faster and faster, and neared the buffalo at every spring, till she suddenly turned the corner of the bank, now near the bottom of the ravine, and some fifty or sixty feet below the level of the prairie. The path that led down the ravine was a gradual descent, and on each side were some scattering trees and bushes.
When the bluff was rounded in pursuit of the buffalo, the animal was but a few yards ahead, and then, for the first time, a fair mark. Our hero was nearly ready to fire, whenwhiz!went an arrow so near that there was no mistaking its sound, especially to one whose ear was practised in Indian warfare.
The arrow had scarcely ceased its whir, before a mounted Indian came down upon our buffalo hunter, from behind the bank of the ravine. His lance was poised in its "rest," with the butt of it firmly against his shoulder. The buffalo passed from sight, and the Indian instantly appeared; and before there was a moment for reflection, the "white hunter" had to "wink and hold out his iron."
The lance was a bright piece of steel, about twenty inches long, on a pole of some twelve feet in length. This murderous blade was aimed directly at his breast, and the two horses on a full run in opposite directions. Our contractor had nothing on but a pair of trousers, his red hunting shirt, and traveling cap.
The Indian, with the exception of some long feathers on his head, was naked to the waist. The savage observed the "law of the road," and took the right, and with one simultaneous and almost involuntary movement, the "pale face" dropped the bridle, and with his left arm parried the approaching blowby knocking the lance upward. The blade in its course ripped the hunting shirt, and tore the muscles from his shoulder; and simultaneously with this he fired his "Colt," and saw the blood spirt from the naked breast of the Indian. The slain warrior fell heavily to the ground, while the white man's horse turned suddenly to the right, and mounted the bank of the ravine, which was here so steep, that, having no longer a hold of the bridle, the rider came near tumbling backward.
The surface of the prairie was gained, and near two hundred yards measured off by the horse before the owner had time to gather his scattered thoughts. He attempted to grasp the bridle, but found his left arm quite powerless, not only from the wound on the shoulder, but the stunning effect of the lance on his fore-arm, near the wrist. With a rapid movement he plunged his pistol into the holster, and seizing the bridle with his right hand, drew up his horse and dismounted.
Every movement had been so rapid since going down the path into the ravine after the buffalo, until he emerged in safety on the plain, that he had not reflected a moment. He had done better; he hadacted.
There now appeared five Indians, all mounted, and not more than two hundred and fifty yards from where he stood. He instantly formed his plan. His arms consisted of his revolver, and a double-barrelled English fowling-piece, one barrel loaded with ball, and the other with buckshot. He unstrapped his gun, kept himself on the farther side of the horse from the Indians, and as they seemed to be approaching him, he made his arrangements. He concluded to wait until they arrived within about a hundred and fifty yards, and then fire with his ball, and if possible, kill the foremost. The other barrel with the buckshot would then be "good" for two more, when he would have five loaded barrels of his "Colt," with only two foes. But the cowardly villains dared not attack him. Four of them retreated, and the other rode a little nearer to reconnoitre.
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The Indian, believing he knew the character of his foe as that of an old hunter, was sure he was armed with one or more "six-shooters." He communicated his thoughts to his red-skinned brethren, by riding several times rapidly round in a circle, this being the sign given by the Arrapahoes when they meet white men armed with "revolvers."
Being satisfied with this view of their foe, and the taste they had had of his prowess, they turned their horses and disappeared down the ravine.
Danger was not yet over, and our friend was determined to be ready for whatever might happen. He rode slowly away for fifty or a hundred yards, and stopped. Thinking he had better have his arms in as good condition as possible, he dismounted and thought he would load the discharged barrel of his pistol. On looking, this trusty weapon was missing. The holster was entirely torn away, and the pistol gone. He went back where he had waited for the Indians, and there lay the pistol on the ground.
In his violent effort to put up the weapon and stop the horse while one arm was totally disabled, he had evidently thrust it in the holster so violently as to tear the leather away, and the weapon unperceived had fallen to the ground.
Having loaded the empty barrel, he again mounted. The sun by this time was just setting. The Indians and the long dark ravine lay between him and the camp, and he took a circuitous route to meet the train.
After going some four miles to the south-west, he came to the road. By the light of the moon he examined the track to see if his wagons with their broad tires had passed. There were no ruts but those made by the narrow-tired wagons of a Mormon train that was one or two days ahead of them. He then followed back, and mile after mile not a sound, not a person, not an animal, or a camp fire broke the vast solitude! But now he hears a gun directly ahead of him.
Another minute and another gun; yes, 'tis his own party camped out for the night, firing minute guns as a signal, andwaiting with anxiety and fear for their absent leader. He soon rode up, and—in the words of the narrator, as he told us the story—"how the boys took me in their arms and hugged me! They fairly screamed as I told them how I missed the buffalo but didn't miss the Indian. They took me on their shoulders and carried me three times round the camp. We saw no more of the Arrapahoes during the journey to Santa Fé."
Such have been the adventures and perils of carrying the mails between the far outposts of civilization, on our wild frontier.
Cheating the Clergy—Duping a Witness—Money missing—A singular Postscript—The double Seal—Proofs of Fraud—The same Bank-Note—"Post-Boy" confronted—How the Game was played—Moving off.
Ourcollection of "outside" delinquencies would be incomplete, were we to omit the following case, which was investigated by the author not long ago, and in which not a little ingenuity, of the baser sort, was displayed. It will serve as a specimen of a numerous class of cases, characterized by attempts to defraud some correspondent, and to fasten the blame of the fraud upon some one connected with the Post-Office. We could give many instances of a similar kind, did our limits permit.
A person of good standing in community, who laid claim not only to a moral, but a religious character, was visiting in a large town on the Hudson river, about midway between New York and Albany. This person owed a clergyman, living in New Haven, Conn., the sum of one hundred dollars; and one day he called at the house of another clergyman of his acquaintance in the town first mentioned, and requested to be allowed the privilege of writing a letter there to his clerical creditor, in which the sum due that gentleman was to be enclosed. Writing materials were furnished, and he prepared the letter in the study of his obliging friend, and in his presence.
After he had finished writing it, he said to the clergyman. "Now, as the mails are not always safe, I wish to be able to prove that I have actually sent the money. I shall therefore consider it a great favor if you will accompany me to the bank, where I wish to obtain a hundred-dollar note for some small trash that I have, and bear witness that I enclose the money and deposit the letter in the post-office."
The reverend gentleman readily acceded to his request, and went with him to the bank, where a bill of the required denomination was obtained and placed in the letter, which was then sealed with a wafer, the clergyman all the while looking on.
They then went to the post-office, (which was directly opposite the bank,) and after calling the attention of his companion to the letter and its address, the writer thereof dropped it into the letter box, and the two persons went their several ways.
The letter arrived at New Haven by due course of mail, and it so happened that the clergyman to whom it was addressed was at the post-office, waiting for the assorting of the mails. He saw a letter thrown into his box, and called for it as soon as the delivery window was opened.
Upon breaking the seal and reading the letter, he found himself requested to "Please find one hundred dollars," &c., with which request he would cheerfully have complied, but for one slight circumstance, namely, the absence of the bank-note!
This fact was apparently accounted for by a postscript, written in a heavy, rude hand, entirely different from that of the body of the letter, and reading as follows:—
"P. S. I have taken the liberty to borrow this money, but I send the letter, so that you needn't blame the man what wrote it."(Signed)"Post-Boy."
"P. S. I have taken the liberty to borrow this money, but I send the letter, so that you needn't blame the man what wrote it."
(Signed)"Post-Boy."
The rifled document was immediately shown to the post master, and in his opinion, as well as that of the clergyman, a daring robbery had been committed. The latter gentleman was advised by the post master to proceed at once to NewYork, and confer with the Special Agent, and at the same time to lay all the facts before the Post Master General. He did so, and it was not long before the Agent had commenced the investigation of the supposed robbery.
In addition to the postscript appended, the letter bore other indications of having been tampered with, which at first sight would seem almost conclusive on this point. Upon the envelope were two wafers, differing in color, one partly overlapping the other, as if they had been put on by different persons at different times.
Notwithstanding these appearances, there were circumstances strongly conflicting with the supposition that the letter had been robbed. The postscript was an unnatural affair, for no one guilty of opening a letter for the purpose of appropriating its contents, would stop to write an explanatory postscript, especially as such a course would increase the chances of his own detection. And in the present instance, there had been no delay of the letter to allow of such an addition.
By a visit to the office where the letter was mailed, the Agent ascertained that it must have left immediately after having been deposited, and the advanced age and excellent character of the post master, who made up the mail on that occasion, entirely cut off suspicion in that quarter.
An interview was then held with the clergyman who witnessed the mailing of the letter, and from him were obtained the facts already stated. Concerning the writing of the document, and its deposit in the letter box in a perfect state, after the money had been enclosed, he was ready and willing to make oath, and had he been called upon he would have done so in all sincerity and honesty.
In reply to an inquiry whether he used more than one sort of letter paper, he informed me he had had but one kind in his study for several months, and at my request, immediately brought in several sheets of it. A comparison of this with the sheet upon which therifledepistle had been written, showed that the latter was a totally different article from thefirst. The shape and design of the stamp, the size of the sheet, and the shade of the paper, were all unlike. Moreover, the wafers used at the bank, where the hundred-dollar note was obtained, and the letter containing it, sealed, were very dissimilar to either of those which appeared upon the "post-boy" letter.
From the consideration of all these facts, I was satisfied that a gross and contemptible fraud had been perpetrated by the writer of the letter, and lost no time in proceeding to the village where that personage lived. I called upon the post master and made some inquiries relative to the character and pecuniary circumstances of the person in question. From the replies made, it appeared, as I have already stated, that his reputation in community was good.
I thought it might be possible that in so small a place, I could ascertain whether he had lately passed a hundred-dollar note, as he would have been likely to have done, if it was true that he had not enclosed it in the New Haven letter.
Calling at the store which received most of his custom, I introduced myself to the proprietor, made a confidant of him to some extent, and learned that the very next day after that on which the aforesaid letter was mailed, its author offered him in payment for a barrel of flour, a hundred-dollar note on the bank from which a bill of the like denomination had been obtained, as before-mentioned, in exchange for the "small trash." The merchant could not then change it, but sent the flour, and changed a bill which he supposed to be the same, a few days afterward.
Armed with these irresistible facts, I proceeded to call on the adventurous deceiver of the clergy, who had attempted to make one member of that body second his intention to cheat another. "Insatiate archer! Could not one suffice?"
"Mr. T——," said I, after some preliminary conversation, "it's of no use to mince matters. The fact is, you did not send the money in that New Haven letter. You offered it the day after you pretended to mail it, at Mr. C.'s store. You seeI've found out all about it, so I hope you will not deny the truth in the matter."
I then gave him his choice, to send the hundred dollars promptly to his New Haven correspondent, or allow me to prove in a public manner, the facts in my possession.
Being thus hard pressed, and finding himself cornered, he confessed that he had prepared the letter which was received in New Haven—postscript, double wafers and all—before he left home, and that while crossing the street from the bank to the post-office, he substituted this for the one he wrote in the clergyman's study! He promised to send the money, and pretended to have suffered severely in his feelings, on account of this dishonest act.
There is no United States law providing for the punishment of such an offence, but public opinion and private conscience make nicer distinctions than the law can do, and often mete out a well deserved penalty to those who elude the less subtle ministers of justice.
In the present instance, the foregoing story was made public by direction of the Post Master General; and the author of the trick, unable to sustain the indignation and contempt of the community in which he lived, was compelled to make a hasty retreat from that part of the country.
Young Offenders—Thirty Years ago—A large Haul—A Ray of Light.
Thefacts of the following case were furnished me by a gentleman connected with the New York post-office. I will introduce him as the relator of his own story, taking some liberty, however, with the phraseology.
It is one of the too numerous class of cases, of which mere boys are the heroes, (if the term may thus be perverted,)—a class that is represented in this work, which would otherwise be incomplete, professing, as it does, to illustrate the various phases of post-office life, as respects persons of different ages and conditions. The present narration will show that our own times are not the only period fertile in juvenile rascality, but that the youth of thirty years ago were too frequently set upon evil.
At the time when the incidents occurred which I am about to narrate, (viz. in the year 1826,) it was the usual practice in the New York office to make up the morning's mails on the preceding evening, and to place them upon tables before they were entered on the "transcripts," (sheets or books in which copies of the post-bills are made,) and enclosed in wrappers. At this time a boy twelve or thirteen years of age was employed as assistant to one of the letter carriers, and generally arrived at the office at an earlier hour in the morning than the regular clerks. The nature of his duties made him well acquaintedwith the different species of letters, so that he could determine without much difficulty, from its general appearance, whether a letter contained hidden treasures or not.
So, by way of beguiling the time before the arrival of the clerks, or for the sake of a little improving practice, he one morning looked over the Eastern mail, which lay spread before him, and selected a letter addressed by the Cashier of the Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank of New York, to the Cashier of one of the banks in Boston, containing four thousand dollars in bank-notes of one thousand dollars each.
On the discovery of this "pile," the boy lost no time in "removing the deposits" to his own pocket, substituting for the bank-notes four pieces of paper of an equal size, cut from wrappers lying on the floor. He then resealed the letter and replaced it. The letter was forwarded by due course of mail, and when it was received at the bank, the Cashier discovered to his dismay that the money by some jugglery had been converted into brown paper; and the evident marks of breaking open and resealing, indicated unequivocally that some human agency had been engaged in working the spell.
Information of the loss was immediately conveyed to the New York office, much to the consternation and grief of all concerned, for this office had been considered a model one, and the clerks had taken pride in sustaining its character, to say nothing of their own; and now that suspicion was thrown among them by this daring act of dishonesty, which, from appearances, must have been committed by some one having access to the mails, they felt that all confidence in one another, as well as the confidence of community in them, would be greatly weakened, until the author of the deed should be discovered. It was suggested, indeed, that the robbery might have been committed in the Boston office, but circumstances rather favored the supposition that the guilt rested with New York.
The Post-Office Department at Washington was apprised of the facts in the case, and the attempts made to investigate thematter elicited a good deal of correspondence, which, however, produced no successful result.
Among other expedients, intimations were thrown out that a thorough search should be made of the residences and persons of the clerks, although it was not likely that the thief, whoever he might be, was so green as to keep the money for such a length of time, in any place where its discovery would be positive proof against him; and if the search were unavailing, the only result would be the infliction of mortification upon those who were innocent of the crime.
At this juncture, a ray of light appeared. It was then as well as now the practice of the assorting clerks to place the letters "mis-sent" and "overcharged," in a box by themselves, and one morning a letter of this description was mis-sent to this office, directed to Jamaica, L. I., which was accordingly placed in this box. On our return from breakfast this letter was found to be missing. As the boy before mentioned was the only occupant of the office during our absence, the disappearance of the letter naturally induced the belief that he had taken it. This second instance of delinquency assumed a double importance from the fact that the purloiner of this and the robber of the Boston letter, were in all probability one and the same person. Every exertion was therefore made to bring the truth to light.
One of the clerks was dispatched to Jamaica to ascertain whether the letter might not have been somehow received at that office, but his proposed investigations were prevented by the unofficial behavior of his horse, which, unmindful of the important business in hand, ran away, upset the carriage, and spilt out its contents. The clerk was so much injured as to be unable to proceed, and therefore returned without the desired information.
On the next morning, while the "drop letters" were being assorted, this letter was found among them and was identified. It had been broken open, examined, resealed, but not robbed of a draft for a large amount which it contained. Near theseal were written with a pencil the words "Picked up in Vesey Street."
The hand-writing was believed to be that of the suspected boy, and he was immediately charged with taking and breaking open the letter, which accusation he stoutly denied, but when he was assured that we knew his hand, that the words which he had written on the letter showed conclusively that he knew something of its whereabouts during its absence, and that it was our determination to investigate the matter thoroughly, his courage gave way, and he confessed opening the letter, but said he did not meddle with the draft which it contained, as he could make no use of it.
Having thus applied an entering wedge, I lost no time in turning to account the information already obtained, which I hoped would lead to the detection of the person who robbed the Boston letter. Indeed, I was entirely unprepared to admit the existence of two such rascals in the New York office, as such repeated instances of delinquency would imply, and was quite positive that the boy before me was the only culprit. I accordingly said to him, "Now, Samuel, I am glad for your sake that you have confessed your guilt in relation to this letter, and I hope you will be equally frank if you have been doing anything else of a similar nature. I strongly suspect that you robbed the Boston letter that we had so much trouble about, and if you did, the best thing you can do will be to confess it."
"No, sir," replied he, "I don't know any more about this Boston letter than you do, and I haven't touched any letter but the Jamaica one."
"It is useless," said I, "for you to make such assertions, in the face of the probabilities in the case. You have confessed that you stole one letter, and that renders it the more likely that you have robbed the other."
"Perhaps it is likely," returned he, "but I didn't do it."
"Well," said I, "take your choice. If you persist in your denial, you must meet the consequences, and you know thatthis kind of offence is punished severely; but if you will own up, I will engage that you shall get off as easily as possible."
By such considerations I finally induced him to acknowledge his guilt in relation to the Boston letter, and on being questioned further, he stated that he still had the bills, and offered to show me the place where they were concealed. I at once started off, accompanied by him as my guide. We took a course which soon led us out of the city, and along the banks of the East River.
The day was rainy, and a mist overhung the river and the land. As we plodded along through the mud and wet, the face of my young companion was shaded with a sadness which indicated that the external world harmonized in its gloom with the little world within.
For myself, I must acknowledge that the prospect of reestablishing lost confidence among my fellow-employés in the post-office, and of putting an end to the suspicion which had haunted almost every one, as well as restoring the stolen property to its rightful owner, produced in me an exhilaration of spirits strangely at variance with all that met my eye. But as we continued to go on and on, with no signs of approaching our place of destination, I began to query with myself, whether my companion might not contemplate giving me the slip, after leading me a wild-goose chase. I could not see, indeed, what motive he could have for such a proceeding, unless he wished to vent his malice on me as one who had been prominent in detecting his misdeeds.
But he kept on steadily, till, after going half a mile or so beyond the old Penitentiary, (a distance of about three miles from the post-office,) he turned from the road and stopped before an old wooden house, apparently uninhabited. The exterior showed signs of many years' conflict with the elements, in which it had been decidedly worsted. Moss had gathered upon the shingles, and the paint, of which there was here and there a trace, strengthened by a feeble contrast the dark color of the parts from which it had been entirely washed away.Some of the windows were destitute of glass, and probably served as a mark for the "slings and arrows" of passing boys.
We entered the building, whose damp and musty-smelling air chilled me, heated as I was with my long and fatiguing walk, and ascending a flight of stairs, the boy unlocked the door of a room into which I passed by his request. The room contained no furniture but half a dozen chairs, a table, and an old bureau. This last he approached, unlocked, and taking out entirely one of the drawers, he showed another smaller one, which was behind the first when that was in place. Opening this, my eyes were refreshed with a sight of the four bills, of which I immediately took possession, and thinking it well to see what further discoveries I could make in thisterra incognita. I found a little drawer, concealed like the first one behind another, and containing two or three hundred dollars in bills, which the precocious youth confessed to having purloined at different times from dead letters, which were usuallylaid outupon tables while the clerks were making up the dead letter account. It would seem that the boy thought no more of robbing a dead letter, than do the camp-followers of plundering dead men after a battle.
After examining the bureau as thoroughly as I was able, and finding no more of the ill-gotten wealth, I asked my companion whether he had any more money that did not belong to him, to which inquiry he returned a negative answer.
The place of concealment was certainly well chosen, for the old house would be the last place to which any one would think of going, who was in search for anything valuable. It seemed to me that it was a particularly fortunate circumstance that the discovery was made at this time, for he informed me that he had been accumulating the money found in the bureau with the intention of intrusting it to his uncle, for the purpose of purchasing some property in Newburgh. This would have been a rather large operation for a youth of his age! an operation even worthy of some specimens of Young America at the present day.
It seemed remarkable to me, as it doubtless has to the reader, that the boy should have such a remote and strange hiding-place. I afterwards learned that the house, the back part of which was occupied by a small family, belonged to an acquaintance of his, and that he used the room as a place of rendezvous, with some of his companions, and, as we have seen, as a receptacle for stolen money.
Having accomplished the object of my expedition, I returned light of heart, though heavy of limb, and communicated the facts as soon as possible to the Cashier of the Farmers' and Mechanics' Bank, and to the post master. The lad was at once arrested, tried, and found guilty, but in consideration of his youth, and his apparent ignorance of the extent of his crime, and the recovery of the property, he was sent to the House of Refuge for three years.
The boy's reformation was permanent, as I have been informed by one who afterwards knew him, when he had removed to a distant place, and established a good character. If this was so, (which there is no reason to doubt,) it furnishes an instance of the salutary effects arising from early detection in a course of crime, especially to those who are not yet hardened in iniquity. The whole case, also, shows the danger of allowing boys, with principles hardly established as yet, and destitute of that firmness which habit and perseverance bestow, to occupy responsible stations in large offices, where the apparent facility for the commission of crime and the temptations offered, too often subvert the honesty which has not yet ripened into a second nature.
OBSTRUCTING THE MAIL.
A sound Principle—A slow Period—A wholesome Law—"Ahead of the Mail"—Moral Suasion—Indignant Passengers—Dutch Oaths—A Smash—Interesting Trial—A rowdy Constable—The Obstructors mulcted.
Theproper adjustment of the various interests, great and small, which are involved in the every-day life of a nation like ours, is a problem not always very easy of solution, yet one of vital importance to the well-working of the social machine. Indeed, it has ever been an important part of legislation to determine the relative magnitude of different interests, both public and private, and to assign to each its proper place in the scale.
Republican principles require that the less should yield to the greater—individual convenience to public good. And an excellent illustration of the practical application of these principles by the wisdom of Congress, is found in the provisions which that body has made to secure the uninterrupted transmission of the mails.
It is unnecessary to enlarge upon the vast importance of punctuality in this branch of the public service. Time, as an element in business transactions, is increasing in value in proportion to the multiplication of devices for obtaining the greatest results possible from each passing moment. An hourin the present year, represents more—more business—more planning—more results of various kinds, than did an hour thirty years since.
To take, for instance, the matter of traveling. The state of things no longer exists which will permit public conveyances to take pretty much their own time in starting and in arriving at their destinations. That was a distressingly "slow" period, when horses were in their glory, and wayside taverns afforded comforts and luxuries which are poorly replaced by the eating, or rather devouring department of a rail road depot, where ravenous passengers, like the Israelites of old, are obliged to dispatch their repast, girded up for flight, at a moment's notice, instead of comfortably and deliberately sitting down under the auspices of "mine host," to a meal which deserved more respectful attention than could be given it in a less space of time than half an hour; the driver, meanwhile, being easy in his mind on the subject of "connecting," inasmuch as he, theconnector, felt quite certain that theconnecteewould not leave him in the lurch, as "lee-way" of an hour or two was allowed, and often required, by the exigencies of traveling. But since, by the agency of steam, an hour swallows up thirty miles instead of four or five, minutes become correspondingly precious, and the locomotive infuses somewhat of its own energy into every mode of progression.
The inexorable hand of the rail-way clock waits not for dilatory drivers, and makes no allowances for detention, unavoidable or otherwise. Here comes in the application of our republican principle. If it were in the power of any one to delay the progress of the vehicle containing the mail, to suit his whim or convenience, the public interests would often be seriously interfered with; and, in order to prevent such contingencies, the following law was enacted by Congress:—
And be it further enacted, That if any person shall, knowingly and wilfully, obstruct or retard the passage of the mail, or of any driver or carrier, or of any horse or carriage, carrying the same, he shall,upon conviction for every such offence, pay a fine not exceeding one hundred dollars; and if any ferryman shall, by wilful negligence, or refusal to transport the mail across any ferry, delay the same, he shall forfeit and pay, for every ten minutes that the same shall be so delayed, a sum not exceeding ten dollars.
And be it further enacted, That if any person shall, knowingly and wilfully, obstruct or retard the passage of the mail, or of any driver or carrier, or of any horse or carriage, carrying the same, he shall,upon conviction for every such offence, pay a fine not exceeding one hundred dollars; and if any ferryman shall, by wilful negligence, or refusal to transport the mail across any ferry, delay the same, he shall forfeit and pay, for every ten minutes that the same shall be so delayed, a sum not exceeding ten dollars.
It is obviously right that the pleasure of an individual should not weigh for a moment in the balance, with the interests of thousands depending as they do, in a degree, upon the prompt transmission of correspondence. Were all the consequences of simply impeded delivery of important letters to be made known, the record would be a melancholy one indeed.
In crowded cities especially, through whose streets the mails are many times a day conveyed to steamboats and rail road stations, it is particularly important that all obstacles in their way should be removed; and pains have been taken to make the law on this subject generally understood, so that at the approach of the wagon bearing the magic characters "U. S. Mail," the crowd of vehicles which throng the busy streets, separate to the right and left, and do homage to that supreme power—the Public Good.
A curious trial under the law I have cited, was held in Boston before the United States Court, about two years since.
It appears that the regular mail-coach from Worcester to Barre, left the former place on the afternoon of January 8, about half past four, full of passengers, and ornamented, as well as distinguished, by the words "U. S. Mail," painted in conspicuous letters on both sides of the foot-board.
The passengers were beginning to develope those sparks of sociability which are elicited by the collisions with one another, and the stimulus to the brain resulting from sundry jolts inseparable from the vicissitudes of stage-coach traveling. In other words, the coach had proceeded about two miles, when, arriving at a place where there was some ascent in the road, it overtook three one-horse wagons, which made way for it to pass. Very soon, however, the two occupants of thehindmost wagon, (whom we will call Stark and Baker,) whipped up their steed, and rushed by the coach, like some saucy cutter shooting ahead of a seventy-four. After this demonstration, their horse, having gained four or five rods on the coach, subsided into a walk.
The correspondingly moderate movements which the driver of the coach was compelled to adopt, did not very well suit his views, as the icy road and his heavy load formed a combination of circumstances which rendered him anxious to make all possible speed, in order to fulfil the requirements of the U. S. Mail, as well as those of his passengers. But he was obliged to retain his humble position of follower to the wagon, for the road at that point was too narrow to admit of passing, and as no other means of attaining his object were at his command, he proceeded to try the effect of moral suasion.
"I say, you, there," shouted he to the obstinate couple in the wagon, who were smoking very much at their ease, and apparently busily engaged in conversation, "I wish you'd drive on faster, or let me go by you."
"Couldn't do it," replied the provoking Stark, "unless you'll race."
"It's none of my business to race," returned the driver; "all I want is to go on."
"Well, let's see you do it, then," said Stark, checking his horse still more.
They soon came to a wider portion of the road, and the stage driver attempted to pass the wagon, but was foiled by the dexterous manœuvring of Stark, who so accurately adjusted his motions to those of the stage-coach as to check-mate its presiding genius. Upon coming to a still wider place, the driver outsailed his persevering tormentor, and pushed on at a rapid rate, say seven knots an hour, indulging the sanguine hope that he was rid of his Old Man of the Sea. But this expectation was short-lived, for, on arriving at a curve in the road, where it was narrow and icy, he was compelled to "shorten sail," whereat Stark added wings to his speed, and