LX.
BRIGANDAGE AND PIRACY.
RELATIONS OF THE STEAM ENGINE TO HONESTY.—PIRACY AND STEAMSHIPS.—HOW THE SLAVE TRADE WAS BROKEN UP.—STORIES OF BRIGANDS.—EXPLOITS OF SPANISH ROBBERS.—“ROAD AGENTS” IN CALIFORNIA.—AN ADVENTURE WITH HIGHWAYMEN.—AN ARMED STAGE COACH.—THE HAUNTS OF THE ROBBERS.—STORY OF A PLUNDERED PASSENGER.—“PUT UP YOUR HANDS.”—AN EXCITING INCIDENT.—BROAD-HORNS AND KEEL-BOATS.—MIKE FINK AND THE CLERGYMAN.—PIRACY ON THE MISSISSIPPI.—A FIGHT WITH RIVER PIRATES.—A CAPTAIN AND CREW MURDERED.—VISIT TO A ROBBERS’ CAVE.
The invention of the steam engine, while it has done a good deal for honest labor and honest enterprise, has done just as much towards breaking up dishonest enterprises and occupations. Before steamships came into fashion, the broad ocean and its adjacent waters were in many places the cruising grounds of pirates. They had sailing vessels built very long and low, with large spars, and, in proportion to the size of their hulk, with an immense spread of canvas. In a light wind or a heavy breeze, they could outsail the deeply and richly laden merchant ships, whose breadth of beam was great in proportion to their length, in order that they might carry heavy cargoes. These pirate vessels either sailed on the open ocean, in the track of merchant ships, or were concealed along the coast, whence they could dart out, and, after securing their prey, could sail back to their safe retreats. It was impossible to avoid them, impossible to escape them in a fair race, and, from the great number of men they carried, generally impossible to contend against them. Ships of war, like merchant ships, depended upon the wind for their propulsion, and were rarely able to sail as rapidly as the pirate craft. The invention of the steam engine was followed by the constructionof the steamship; and when the steamship was armed with guns, she could run down and destroy these pirate cruisers.
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 theGolden 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 stageline, 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.
STORY OF A TRAVELLER.
“About a month ago,” said he, “I was riding along this very road, and in this very coach, and just about this place; it may be half a mile or so ahead from here.” Here a dyspeptic individual at the corner of the coach gave a groan, and muttered something which sounded like a wish that he was at home.
“It was just about daylight, when all at once the horses stopped.” Here the coach came to a sudden halt, and every one of us fully expected that the robbers had taken our horses by the bridles; but the voice of the driver reassured us, as he said he had stopped to hitch up a trace.
“When they stopped the coach,” continued the traveller, “I was just rubbing my eyes, and wondering how much longer it would take us to get through. All at once, I heard some one yell out to the driver, ‘Sit still there, and hold up your hands!’ And just about that time, an ugly-looking revolver came through the curtains of the coach, and a fellow with a mask on stuck his head partly through. ‘Now, gentlemen,’ said this robber, ‘just step out here on the ground, and don’t go putting your hands around your pockets. If you do, you will get shot.’ His manners were so fascinating that we could not resist. It was not very light, but as he held that pistol under my nose, I could almost swear that I could look down to the bottom of the barrel, and see the bullet resting there. We stepped out, one by one, and as we did so, there were two other fellows with masks on waiting to receive us.
“PUT UP YOUR HANDS.”
“‘Put up your hands,’ said the first robber to each of us, as we stepped out of the coach. ‘Put up your hands, or you will get a bullet through you!’
“I would rather put up my hands at any time without havinga bullet through me, and I put them up at once. They stood us up in a row, with each fellow sticking his hands up in the air, like a class of school-boys ready to answer questions. Then, when they got us all out, two of them stood guard, and a third went through us. He went through us first for our pistols, and took every one, and laid them in a pile on the ground, right between the two robbers, and in such a way that we could not get at them without being shot.
“They then went through us for watches and money, and they made a very good haul. I did not have much—only just enough for my expenses; and when I told them so, and they saw it, they told me I had better keep it.
“There was one passenger, though, who had twelve hundred dollars in coin. They took the whole lot, but generously gave him twenty dollars to pay his expenses. ‘Nothing mean about us,’ said one of the robbers, as he handed back the twenty-dollar gold piece. ‘We don’t want to be rough with any of you, but we must make our living.’
“When they had cleaned us out, they let us go back into the stage. They told us to keep still, or the first man that moved would get his head shot off. One of the fellows stood by the door of the coach, to see that we obeyed orders. He was not going to have any fluking.
“Then they made the driver and express messenger hand down the express box. The box was heavy, as it had a considerable amount of money in it. The messenger was reluctant to give up the money, but they finally persuaded him to do so, by cocking a pistol so as he could hear it, and putting the muzzle of it into his ear. The driver was obliged to sit still, with his reins down and his hands up. The whole operation did not take ten minutes, and when we were through, and ready to start, we were a comical picture. All of us inside were holding up our hands; the messenger had his hands up in the air, and the driver was holding one hand in the air, and taking the reins in the other from one of the robbers. The fellows stood there, with their pistols ready to shoot, and told us to go ahead; and you bet we did go ahead.”
EARLY NAVIGATION OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
In the early days of navigation on the Mississippi and its tributaries, before the construction of steamboats, there was a great deal of piracy. Before the steamboat was invented, the navigation of the great river was conducted with rafts and keel-boats. The raft was built on the upper waters, freighted with produce, and floated down to New Orleans, where both the raft and its cargo were sold. It floated with the current. It would descend, but it could not be made to ascend. The keel-boat was of better construction, and after floating down the river with its cargo, it was loaded to ascend it.
A long time was required for this upward voyage. The current of the Mississippi is very strong, running in many places four or five miles an hour. Sails are of very little use, as the river is crooked, and the wind is rarely strong. The keel-boats were propelled in two ways—first, by “setting-poles;” and, secondly, by “cordelling.” In propulsion by means of setting-poles, long poles are used, and set or fixed temporarily in the bed of the river. There is a plank on which men can walk along the edge of the boat. The man with his setting-pole goes to the bow of the boat, fixes the pole, and then walks slowly aft. In this way the boat is moved under his feet, and propelled up stream.
Cordelling is a system of towing. The men walk along the banks of the river, and tow the boat by main strength against the stream.
The advantages of steam over this old process of propulsion may be well illustrated upon the Ohio River, between Cincinnati and Louisville. The distance is about one hundred and fifty miles. In 1794 keel-boats made regular trips between the two cities, carrying freight and passengers. For the round trip they required four weeks. A steamboat now leaves Cincinnati at noon, and lands its passengers in Louisville the next morning. By noon she is ready to return again, and makes the round trip, with plenty of time in port, every two days.
The boatmen of the Mississippi in the olden time were apeculiar class. Rough, hardy, uncouth fellows they were; ready at any time for an adventure, generally delighting in a fight, and able to perform a great deal of hard work. They were prompt at fairs, races, and all other assemblages along the river banks; and when they landed in a town, and concluded to clean it out, they generally did so. The inhabitants being powerless, the boatmen had it all their own way.
The West is full of stories about these boatmen and their peculiar lives. One of the most famous of the class was Mike Fink, whose history has been made the theme of a popular story. A story is told of a clergyman from the east travelling down the Ohio River, some years ago, who was anxious to learn something about Mike Fink. Somebody told him that the pilot of the boat on which he was travelling had been acquainted with Mike. The clergyman approached him, and said,—
MIKE FINK AND THE CLERGYMAN.
“Do you know anything about Mike Fink?”
“Yes,” said the pilot; “knew him like a brother.”
“Can you tell me some peculiar incident of his life?” asked the clergyman.
“Well, I don’t know,” replied the pilot, hesitatingly. “Yes, I can. He ate a buffalo robe once.”
“Ate a buffalo robe!” said the clergyman, astonished.
“Certainly, a buffalo robe, with the hair on,” replied the pilot.
“Well, what did he do that for?”
“Why, you see,” said the pilot, resting a moment, to shift his quid of tobacco, “you see, Mike drank so much whiskey that he destroyed the coating of his stomach, and the doctor told him that before he could get well, he would need a new coat for it. Mike thought the thing over, and said, when he had a new coat for his stomach, he would have one that would stand the whiskey; and he made up his mind that a buffalo robe with the hair on it was just the thing, and so he sat down, and swallowed it. He could drink any amount of whiskey after that, and never so much as wink. Fact, now, as true as you are standing here.”
The clergyman turned away, satisfied.
Besides such adventures as fighting with each other, and with the inhabitants along the river, these men had conflicts with robbers. There were many gangs of robbers living along the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers, and they had places of resort known only to themselves. Some of the limestone cliffs abound in caves, and here the robbers generally had their concealment. They watched for the boats ascending and descending the river, sometimes fired upon them from the bank, and sometimes came out in skiffs to capture them. Many a boat, while quietly anchored for the night, has thus been attacked, and its crew murdered, and thrown into the river. The boat would then be drawn to the spot most convenient for the robbers, plundered of its contents, and set on fire; or it might be manned by a portion of the gang, taken to New Orleans, and sold.
Such an occurrence was not unfrequent, as a rapid passage down the river would enable them to sell the boat, and return again to their place of concealment, before the officers of the law could go in pursuit.
THE DAYS OF THE FLAT-BOATMEN.
There are many interesting stories in the robber history of the great valley. One was told to me, some years ago, by an old steamboat-man, who had worked in his younger days on board of keel-boats and “broad-horns,” as the flat-boats were generally termed, and are now to the present day. I give the story, as nearly as I can remember it, in his own words.
“There used to be a famous place for robbers on the lower part of the Ohio, down below Paducah. Many a boat has been captured there, and the men on board of it were never heard of afterwards. They were a desperate lot of fellows. These robbers did not mind killing a man any more than you would mind killing a rat. I shipped on board a broad-horn once, from Louisville, going to New Orleans. We had a load of pork and corn, and the captain of the broad-horn owned about half the boat and her cargo. We got along very well without any trouble until we got down to the place where these robbers were, and just there we ran on a sand-bar. It was a ticklishplace. There we were stuck; the river was falling, and if it left us on the bar, we would have to stay there until the next rise—that is, if we did not die in the mean time. We worked away all the afternoon, and all night, but to no purpose. One after another, we had dropped off, and gone to sleep.
FIGHT WITH RIVER PIRATES.
“We were about a quarter of a mile from the shore, but the current was not very strong. Towards morning, when I was on watch, I heard some men on shore. A little while afterwards, I heard the sound of oars, and saw a boat coming out of a little creek just above us. By the sound of their oars I knew that the boat was coming towards us, and I waked everybody. The captain got out his own rifle and every rifle and pistol that was in the float, and prepared to make fight. When the boat got within fifty or sixty yards, and we could just see it through the mist, our captain yelled out to them to stop.
“‘Want to come aboard,’ said a voice from the boat. ‘We want to buy some pork and corn. We are camped here, and have got short of provisions.’
“‘Haven’t anything,’ said the captain; ‘not a thing. We have not a pound of pork or corn on board.’
“‘What have you, then?’ came from the boat.
“‘We are taking a load of stone down to New Orleans, to sell—limestone, first-rate limestone; you don’t want any of it.’
“The boat kept coming on, and somebody in it said, ‘Come to think of it, now, we do want some limestone, and we will come and see how it looks.’
“The captain saw that we were in for a fight, as the fellows were determined to rob us. He brought his rifle up to his shoulder, but before he fired, he said once more,—
“‘Now, I tell you,STOP!’
“The boat did not stop, but kept straight in our direction. The current swung it a little down stream, or they would have been on board of us before we could have done much against them; but luckily their stern swung around, and they had to turn a little against the current. The captain fired, and brought down one of the fellows in the boat. There weresix or eight of them, and only five of us. I had a rifle, and I fired, and brought down another.
“The captain’s man fell into the bottom of the boat, but the one I shot threw up his hands, and tumbled backward, so that he went overboard. They began firing, but did not hit any of us—except one ball, which clipped a corner of the captain’s ear.
“By this time they appeared to have had enough of it, and, besides, our shooting deranged their rowing. We were reloading, and before they could get up to the boat, we would have another round of shots for them. They turned down stream, and that was the last we saw of them.
“In the morning we carried a line ashore, and tied it to a tree; and with this line we managed to pull ourselves off. It was tough work, that, and it was noon before we got away. We floated on down the river, and got to New Orleans all right. We sold out our load, and came home.
PIRATES OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
PIRATES OF THE MISSISSIPPI.
ANOTHER BATTLE.
“The next year I went down again with the same captain, on another broad-horn. When we got to this place where we had been aground, we gave the sand-bar a wide berth, and avoided it; but we had another fight with the robbers one night, when we were anchored. They came upon us suddenly, when all but two of us were asleep. They got possession of the boat. They killed the captain, and sent me overboard. What they did with the other men I never knew, but I suppose they killed them.
“The whole fight did not last three minutes, from the time they first sprang aboard until I was in the river, and floating away on the water. I must have gone down the stream three or four miles, keeping my head above water; and at last I came to the shore, right under a rocky cliff.
“I climbed up, and squeezed the water out of my clothes. By this time it was morning. I looked around, and saw, a little way off, a curious looking hole in the rock, and something like a path leading up to it. I went up this path and into the rock.
“A fire was burning close by the entrance, and I thoughtsomebody must live there. It never occurred to me that the place might be a robbers’ cave. I shouted, and nobody came out. Then I picked up a brand out of the fire, and waved it until it blazed, so as to light me into the rock.
IN A ROBBERS’ CAVE.
“After going about twenty feet along a narrow passage, I found myself in a sort of room, thirty or forty feet square. It looked partly natural and partly as if it had been dug out of a rock. There were piles of stuff where the men slept, and there were goods of various sorts lying around; but nobody was there. There was a bag of silver dollars which my eye happened to rest upon, and I picked it up. I then thought that I had got into the cave of the robbers, and that it was the same crew that was in the boat. I went out of that place quick, and it was well I did so.
“When I got outside, I could see the boat coming, not half a mile away, and those fellows on board. If I had staid fifteen minutes more, they would have caught me.
“There was no way of escaping up the face of the cliff without their seeing me, so I crawled down to the water, and slipped in again. I could swim well, and thought the best thing to do would be to float down the river a few miles farther, and then get ashore wherever I saw a house or a boat.
“I tried to keep the dollars, but they were too heavy—they weighted me down, and I very soon dropped them, consoling myself with the recollection that the robbers never would get them again. I floated half a dozen miles down the stream, saw a house, and went ashore. Next day a flat-boat came along with one hand short, and I shipped on her to New Orleans. After that I had two or three fights with the river pirates, but they never bothered me much.”