Thomas J. Dimsdale, The vigilantes of Montana; or,
Popular justice in the Rocky Mountains. . . (Virginia City, M.T.,
Montana Post Press, D.W. Tilton & Co., Book and Job Printers, 1866).
INTRODUCTORY
VIGILANCE COMMITTEES
The teeth that bite hardest are out of sight
--PROV.
The end of all good government is the safety and happiness of
the governed. It is not possible that a high state of civilization and
progress can be maintained unless the tenure of life and property is
secure; and it follows that the first efforts of a people in a new
country for the inauguration of the reign of peace, the sure precursor
of prosperity and stability, should be directed to the accomplishment of
this object. In newly settled mining districts, the necessity for some
effective organization of a judicial and protective character is more
keenly felt than it is in other places, where the less exciting pursuits
of agriculture and commerce mainly attract the attention and occupy the
time of the first inhabitants.
There are good reasons for this difference. The first is the entirely
dissimilar character of the populations: and the second, the possession
of vast sums of money by uneducated and unprincipled people, in all
places where the precious metals may be obtained at the cost of the
labor necessary to exhume them from the strata in which they lie
concealed.
In an agricultural country, the life of the pioneer settler is always
one of hard labor, of considerable privation, and of more or less
isolation; while the people who seek to clear a farm in the wild forest,
or who break up the virgin soil of the prairies, are usually of the
steady and hard-working classes, needing little assistance from courts
of justice to enable them to maintain rights which are seldom invaded;
and whose differences, in the early days of the country, are for the
most part so slight as to be scarcely worth the cost of a litigation
more complicated than a friendly and, usually, gratuitous,
arbitration--submitted to the judgment of the most respected among the
citizens.
In marked contrast to the peaceful life of the tiller of the soil and
to the placid monotony of his pursuits, are the turbulent activity, the
constant excitement, and the perpetual temptations to which the dweller
in a mining camp is subject, both during his sojourn in the gulches, or
if he be given to prospecting, in his frequent and unpremeditated change
of location, commonly called a "stampede." There can scarcely
be conceived a greater or more apparent difference than exists between
the staid and sedate inhabitants of rural districts, and the motley
group of miners, professional men, and merchants, thickly interspersed
with sharpers, refugees, and a full selection from the dangerous classes
that swagger, armed to the teeth, through the diggings and infest the
roads leading to the newly discovered gulches, where lies the object of
their worship--Gold.
Fortunately, the change to a better state of things is rapid, and
none who now walk the streets of Virginia would believe that, within two
years of this date, the great question to be decided was, which was the
stronger, right or might?
And here it must be stated that the remarks which truth compels us to
make, concerning the classes of individuals which furnish the
law-defying element of mining camps, are in no wise applicable to the
majority of the people, who, while exhibiting the characteristic energy
of the American race in the pursuit of wealth, yet maintain, under every
disadvantage, an essential morality, which is the more creditable since
it must be sincere, in order to withstand the temptations to which it is
constantly exposed. "Oh, cursed thirst of gold," said the
ancient, and no man has even an inkling of the truth and force of the
sentiment, till he has lived where gold and silver are as much the
objects of desire and of daily and laborious exertion as glory and
promotion are to the young soldier. Were it not for the preponderance of
this conservative body of citizens, every camp in remote and recently
discovered mineral regions would be a field of blood; and where this is
not so, the fact is proof irresistible that the good is in sufficient
force to control the evil and eventually to bring order out of chaos.
Let the reader suppose that the police of New York were withdrawn for
twelve months, and then let them picture the wild saturnalia which would
take the place of the order that reigns there now. If, then, it is so
hard to restrain the dangerous classes of old and settled communities,
what must be the difficulty of the task, when, tenfold in number,
fearless in character, generally well armed, and supplied with money to
an extent unknown among their equals in the East, such men find
themselves removed from the restraints of civilized society, and beyond
the control of the authority which there enforce obedience to the law?
Were it not for the sterling stuff of which the mass of miners is
made, their love of fair play, and their prompt and decisive action in
emergencies, this history could never have been written, for desperadoes
of every nation would have made this country a scene of bloodshed and a
sink of iniquity such as was never before witnessed.
Together with so much that is evil, nowhere is there so much that is
sternly opposed to dishonesty and violence as in the mountains; and
though careless of externals and style, to a degree elsewhere unknown,
the intrinsic value of manly uprightness is nowhere so clearly exhibited
and so well appreciated as in the Eldorado of the West. Middling people
do not live in these regions. A man or a woman becomes better or worse
by a trip towards the Pacific. The keen eye of the experienced miner
detects the imposter at a glance, and compels his entire isolation, or
his association with the class to which he rightfully belongs.
Thousands of weak-minded people return, after a stay in the
mountains, varying in duration from a single day to a year, leaving the
field where only the strong of heart are fit to battle with difficulty
and to win the golden crown which is the reward of persevering toil and
unbending firmness. There is no man more fit to serve his country in any
capacity requiring courage, integrity, and self-reliance, than an
"honest miner," who has been tried and found true by a jury of
mountaineers.
The universal license that is, at first, a necessity of position in
such places, adds greatly to the number of crimes and to the facilities
for their perpetration. Saloons, where poisonous liquors are vended to
all comers and consumed in quantities sufficient to drive excitable men
to madness and to the commission of homicide on the slightest
provocation, are to be found in amazing numbers, and the villainous
compounds there sold, under the generic name of whiskey, are more
familiarly distinguished by the cognomens of "Tangle-leg,"
"Forty-rod," Lightening," "Tarantula-juice,"
etc., terms only too truly describing their acknowledged qualities.
The absence of good female society, in any due proportion to the
numbers of the opposite sex, is likewise an evil of great magnitude; for
men become rough, stern, and cruel, to a surprising degree, under such a
state of things.
In every frequented street, public gambling houses with
open doors and loud music are resorted to, in broad daylight, by
hundreds--it might almost be said--of all tribes and tongues, furnishing
another fruitful source of "difficulties," which are commonly
decided on the spot, by an appeal to brute force, the stab of a knife,
or the discharge of a revolver. Women of easy virtue are to be seen
promenading through the camp, habited in the gayest and most costly
apparel and receiving fabulous sums for their purchased favors. In fact,
all the temptations to vice are present in full display, with money in
abundance to secure the gratification of the desire for novelty and
excitement which is the ruling passion of the mountaineer. * * * One
marked feature of social intercourse, and (after indulgence in strong
drink) the most fruitful source of quarrel and bloodshed, is the all
pervading custom of using strong language on every occasion. Men will
say more than they mean, and the unwritten code of the miners, based on
a wrong view of what constitutes manhood, teaches them to resent by
force what should be answered by silent contempt.
Another powerful incentive to wrong doing is the absolute nullity of
the civil law in such cases. No matter what may be the proof, if the
criminal is well liked in the community, "Not Guilty" is
almost certain to be the verdict of the jury, despite the efforts of the
Judge and prosecutor. If the offender is a moneyed man, as well as a
popular citizen, the trial is only a farce--grave and prolonged, it is
true, but capable of only one termination--a verdict of acquittal. In
after days, when police magistrates in cities can deal with crime, they
do so promptly. Costs are absolutely frightful, and fines tremendous. An
assault provoked by drunkenness frequently costs a man as much as
thrashing forty different policemen would do in New York. A trifling
"tight" is worth from $20 to $50 in dust, all expenses told,
and so on. One grand jury that we wot of presented that it would be
better to leave the punishment of offenders to the Vigilantes, who
always acted impartially, and who would not permit the escape of proved
criminals on technical and absurd grounds--than to have justice
defeated, as in a certain case named. The date of that document is not
ancient, and though, of course, refused and destroyed, it was the
deliberate opinion, on oath, of the Grand Inquest embodying the
sentiment of thousands of good citizens in the community.
Finally, swift and terrible retribution is the only preventive of
crime, while society is organizing in the far West. The long delay of
justice, the wearisome proceedings, the remembrance of old friendships,
etc., create a sympathy for the offender, so strong as to cause a hatred
of the avenging law, instead of inspiring a horror of the crime. There
is something in the excitement of continued stampedes that makes men of
quick temperaments uncontrollably impulsive. In the moment of passion,
they would slay all round them; but let the blood cool, and they would
share their last dollar with the men whose life they sought a day or two
before.
Habits of thought rule communities more than laws, and the settled
opinion of a numerous class is, that calling a man a liar, a thief, or a
son of a b---h, is provocation sufficient to justify instant slaying.
Juries do not ordinarily bother themselves about the lengthy instruction
they hear read by the court. They simply consider whether the deed is a
crime against the Mountain Code; and if not, "not guilty" is
the verdict, at once returned. Thieving, or any action which a miner
calls mean, will surely be visited with condign punishment, at
the hands of a Territorial jury. In such cases mercy there is none; but,
in affairs of single combats, assaults, shootings, stabbings, and
highway robberies, the civil law, with its positively awful expense and
delay, is worse than useless.
One other main point requires to be noticed. Any person of experience
will remember that the universal story of criminals, who have expiated
their crimes on the scaffold, or who are pining away in the hardships of
involuntary servitude--tells of habitual Sabbath breaking. This sin is
so general in newly discovered diggings in the mountains that a
remonstrance usually produces no more fruit than a few jocular oaths and
a laugh. Religion is said to be "played out," and a professing
Christian must keep straight, indeed, or he will be suspected of being a
hypocritical member of a tribe to whom it would be very disagreeable to
talk about hemp.
Under these circumstances, it becomes an absolute necessity that
good, law-loving, and order-sustaining men should unite for mutual
protection and for the salvation of the community. Being united, they
must act in harmony, repress disorder, punish crime, and prevent
outrage, or their organization would be a failure from the start, and
society would collapse in the throes of anarchy. None but extreme
penalties inflicted with promptitude are of any avail to quell the
spirit of the desperadoes with whom they have to contend; considerable
numbers are required to cope successfully with the gangs of murderers,
desperadoes, and robbers who infest mining countries, and who, though
faithful to no other bond, yet all league willingly against the law.
Secret they must be, in council and membership, or they will remain
nearly useless for the detection of crime, in a country where equal
facilities for the transmission of intelligence are at the command of
the criminal and the judiciary; and an organization on this footing is a
Vigilance Committee.
Such was the state of affairs, when five men in Virginia and four in
Bannack initiated the movement which resulted in the formation of a
tribunal, supported by an omnipresent executive, comprising within
itself nearly every good man in the Territory, and pledged to render
impartial justice to friend and foe, without regard to clime, creed,
race, or politics. In a few short weeks it was known that the voice of
justice had spoken in tones that might not be disregarded. The face of
society was changed, as if by magic; for the Vigilantes, holding in one
hand the invisible yet effectual shield of protection, and in the other,
the swift descending and inevitable sword of retribution, struck from
his nerveless grasp the weapon of the assassin; commanded the brawler to
cease from strife; warned the thief to steal no more; bade the good
citizen take courage; and compelled the ruffians and marauders who had
so long maintained the "reign of terror" in Montana, to fly
the Territory, or meet the just rewards of their crimes. Need we say
that they were at once obeyed? Yet not before more than one hundred
valuable lives had been pitilessly sacrificed and twenty-four miscreants
had met a dog’s doom as the reward of their crimes.
To this hour, the whispered words, "Virginia Vigilantes"
would blanch the cheek of the wildest and most redoubtable desperado,
and necessitate an instant election between flight and certain doom.
The administration of the lex talionis by self-constituted
authority is, undoubtedly, in civilized and settled communities, an
outrage on mankind. It is there wholly unnecessary; but the sight of a
few of the mangled corpses of beloved friends and valued citizens, the
whistle of the desperado’s bullet, and the plunder of the fruits of
the patient toil of years spent in weary exile from home, in places
where civil law is as powerless as a palsied arm from sheer lack of
ability to enforce its decrees, alter the basis of the reasoning, and
reverse the conclusion. In the case of the Vigilantes of Montana, it
must be also remembered that the Sheriff himself was the leader of the
Road Agents, and his deputies were the prominent members of the band.
The question of the propriety of establishing a Vigilance Committee
depends upon the answers which ought to be given to the following
queries: Is it lawful for citizens to slay robbers or murderers, when
they catch them; or ought they to wait for policemen, where there are
none, or put them in penitentiaries not yet erected?
Gladly, indeed, we feel sure, would the Vigilantes cease
from their labor, and joyfully would they hail the advent of power,
civil or military, to take their place; but till this is furnished by
Government, society must be preserved from demoralization and anarchy;
murder, arson, and robbery must be prevented or punished, and road
agents must die. Justice and protection from wrong to person or property
are the birthright of every American citizen, and these must be
furnished in the best and most effectual manner that circumstances
render possible. Furnished, however, they must be by constitutional law,
undoubtedly, wherever practical and efficient provision can be made for
its enforcement. But where justice is powerless as well as blind, the
strong arm of the mountaineer must wield her sword; for
"self-preservation is the first law of nature."
Chapter XXIV
THE ARREST AND EXECUTION OF CAPTAIN J. A. SLADE,
with a Short Account of His Previous Career
Some write him hero, some a very knave; Curses
and tears are mingled at his grave. --Anonymous
J.A. Slade, or as he was often called, Captain Slade, was raised in
Clinton County, Ill., and was a member of a highly respectable family.
He bore a good character for several years in that place. The acts which
have given so wide a celebrity to his name were performed especially on
the Overland Line, of which he was for years an official. Reference to
these matters will be made in a subsequent part of this chapter.
Captain J. A. Slade came to Virginia City in the spring of 1863. He
was a man gifted with the power of making money, and when free from the
influence of alcoholic stimulants, which seemed to reverse his nature,
and to change a kind-hearted and intelligent gentleman into a reckless
demon, no man in the Territory had a greater faculty of attracting the
favorable notice of even strangers, and in spite of the wild lawlessness
which characterized his frequent spells of intoxication, he had many,
very many friends whom no commission of crime itself could detach from
his personal companionship. Another and less desirable class of friends
were attracted by his very recklessness. There are probably a thousand
individuals in the West possessing a correct knowledge of the leading
incidents of a career that terminated at the gallows, who still speak of
Slade as a perfect gentleman, and who not only lament his death, but
talk in the highest terms of his character, and pronounce his execution
a murder. One way of accounting for the diversity of opinion regarding
Slade is sufficiently obvious. Those who saw him in his natural state
only would pronounce him to be a kind husband, a most hospitable host,
and a courteous gentleman. On the contrary, those who met him when
maddened with liquor and surrounded by a gang of armed roughs would
pronounce him a fiend incarnate.
During the summer of 1863 he went to Milk River as a freighter. For
this business he was eminently qualified, and he made a great deal of
money. Unfortunately his habit of profuse expenditure was
uncontrollable, and at the time of his execution he was deeply in debt
almost everywhere.
After the execution of the five men on the 14th of January the
Vigilantes considered that their work was nearly ended. They had freed
the country from highway-men and murderers to a great extent, and they
determined that in the absence of the regular civil authority they would
establish a People’s Court, where all offenders should be tried by a
judge and jury. This was the nearest approach to social order that the
circumstances permitted, and though strict legal authority was wanting,
yet the people were firmly determined to maintain its efficiency and to
enforce its decrees. It may here be mentioned that the overt act which
was the last round on the fatal ladder leading to the scaffold on which
Slade perished was the tearing in pieces and stamping upon a writ of
this court, followed by the arrest of the judge, Alex Davis, by
authority of a presented derringer and with his own hands.
J. A. Slade was himself, we have been informed, a Vigilanter: he
openly boasted of it, and said he knew all that they knew. He was never
accused or even suspected of either murder or robbery committed in this
Territory (the latter crimes were never laid to his charge any place);
but that he had killed several men in other localities was notorious,
and his bad reputation in this respect was a most powerful argument in
determining his fate, when he was finally arrested for the offense above
mentioned. On returning from Milk River he became more and more addicted
to drinking; until at last it was a common feat for him and his friends
to "take the town." He and a couple of his dependents might
often be seen on one horse, galloping through the streets, shouting and
yelling, firing revolvers, etc. On many occasions he would ride his
horse into stores; break up bars, toss the scales out of doors, and use
most insulting language to parties present. Just previous to the day of
his arrest he had given a fearful beating to one of his followers; but
such was his influence over them that the man wept bitterly at the
gallows, and begged for his life with all his power. It had become quite
common when Slade was on a spree for the shopkeepers and citizens to
close the stores and put out all the lights, being fearful of some
outrage at his hands. One store in Nevada he never ventured to
enter--that of the Lott brothers--as they had taken care to let him know
that any attempt of the kind would be followed by his sudden death, and
though he often rode down there, threatening to break in and raise ----,
yet he never attempted to carry his threat into execution. For his
wanton destruction of goods and furniture he was always ready to pay
when sober if he had money; but there were not a few who regarded
payment as small satisfaction for the outrage, and these men were his
personal enemies.
From time to time Slade received warnings from men that he well knew
would not deceive him, of the certain end of his conduct. There was not
a moment, for weeks previous to his arrest, in which the public did not
expect to hear of some bloody outrage. The dread of his very name, and
the presence of the armed band of hangers-on who followed him, alone
prevented a resistance which must certainly have ended in the instant
murder to mutilation of the opposing party.
Slade was frequently arrested by order of the court whose
organization we have described, and had treated it with respect by
paying one or two fines, and promising to pay the rest when he had
money; but in the transaction that occurred at this crisis, he forgot
even this caution, and goaded by passion and the hatred of restraint, he
sprang into the embrace of death.
Slade had been drunk and "cutting up" all night. He and his
companions had made the town a perfect hell. In the morning, J. M. Fox,
the sheriff, met him, arrested him, took him into court, and commenced
reading a warrant that he had for his arrest, by way of arraignment. He
became uncontrollably furious, and seizing the writ, he tore it up,
threw it on the ground, and stamped upon it. The clicking of the locks
of his companions’ revolvers was instantly heard and a crisis was
expected. The sheriff did not attempt his capture; but being at least as
prudent as he was valiant, he succumbed, leaving Slade the master of the
situation, and the conqueror and ruler of the courts, law, and
law-makers. This was a declaration of war, and was so accepted. The
Vigilance Committee now felt that the question of social order and the
preponderance of the law-abiding citizens had then and there to be
decided. They knew the character of Slade, and they were well aware that
they must submit to his rule without murmur, or else that he must be
dealt with in such fashion as would prevent his being able to wreak his
vengeance on the Committee, who could never have hoped to live in the
Territory secure from outrage or death, and who could never leave it
without encountering his friends, whom his victory would have emboldened
and stimulated to a pitch that would have rendered them reckless of
consequences. The day previous, he had ridden into Dorris’ stores, and
on being requested to leave, he drew his revolver and threatened to kill
the gentleman who spoke to him. Another saloon he had led his horse
into, and buying a bottle of wine, he tried to make the animal drink it.
This was not considered an uncommon performance, as he had often entered
saloons and commenced firing at the lamps, causing a wild stampede.
A leading member of the Committee met Slade, and informed in the
quiet, earnest manner of one who feels the importance of what he is
saying, "Slade, get your horse at once, and go home or there will
be ---- to pay." Slade started and took a long look with his dark
and piercing eyes, at the gentleman--"What do you mean?" said
he. "You have no right to ask me what I mean," was the quiet
reply, "get your horse at once, and remember what I tell you."
After a short pause he promised to do so, and actually got into the
saddle; but, being still intoxicated, he began calling aloud to one
after another of his friends, and at last seemed to have forgotten the
warning he had received and became again uproarious, shouting the name
of a well-known prostitute in company with those two men whom he
considered heads of the Committee, as a sort of challenge; perhaps,
however, as a single act of bravado. It seems probable that the
intimation of personal danger he had received had not been forgotten
entirely; though, fatally for him, he took a foolish way of showing his
remembrance of it. He sought out Alexander Davis, the Judge of the
Court, and drawing a cocked derringer, he presented it at his head, and
told him that he should hold him as a hostage for his own safety. As the
Judge stood perfectly quiet, and offered no resistance to his captor, no
further outrage followed on this score. Previous to this, on account of
the critical state of affairs, the Committee had met, and at last
resolved to arrest him. His execution had not been agreed upon, and, at
that time, would have been negatived, most assuredly. A messenger rode
down to Nevada to inform the leading men of what was on hand, as it was
desirable to show that there was a feeling of unanimity on the subject,
all along the Gulch.
The miners turned out almost en masse, leaving their work and forming
in solid column, about six hundred strong, armed to the teeth, they
marched up to Virginia. The leader of the body well knew the temper of
his men on the subject. He spurred on ahead of them, and hastily calling
a meeting of the Executive, he told them plainly that the miners meant
"business," and that, if they came up, they would not stand in
the street to be shot down by Slade’s friends; but that they would
take him and hang him. The meeting was small, as the Virginia men were
loath to act at all. This momentous announcement of the feeling of the
Lower Town was made to a cluster of men, who were deliberating behind a
wagon, at the rear of a store on Main Street, where the Ohlinghouse
stone building now stands.
The Committee was most unwilling to proceed to extremities. All the
duty they had ever performed seemed as nothing to the task before them;
but they had to decide, and that quickly. It was finally agreed that if
the whole body of the miners were of the opinion that he should be
hanged, the Committee left it in their hands to deal with him. Off, at
hot speed, rode the leader of the Nevada men to join his command.
Slade had found out what was intended, and the news sobered him
instantly. He went into P. S. Pfout’s store, where Davis was, and
apologized for his conduct, saying that he would take it all back.
The head of the column now wheeled into Wallace street and marched up
at quick time. Halting in front of the store, the executive officer of
the Committee stepped forward and arrested Slade, who was at once
informed of his doom, and inquiry was made as to whether he had any
business to settle. Several parties spoke to him on the subject; but to
all such inquiries he turned a deaf ear, being entirely absorbed in the
terrifying reflections on his own awful position. He never ceased his
entreaties for life, and to see his dear wife. The unfortunate lady
referred to, between whom and Slade there existed a warm affection, was
at this time living at their ranch on the Madison. She was possessed of
considerable personal attractions; tall, well-formed, of graceful
carriage, pleasing manners, and was, withal, an accomplished horsewoman.
A messenger from Slade rode at full speed to inform her of her
husband’s arrest. In an instant she was in the saddle, and with all
the energy that love and despair could lend to an ardent temperament and
a strong physique, she urged her fleet charger over the twelve miles of
rough and rocky ground that intervened between her and the object of her
passionate devotion.
Meanwhile a party of volunteers had made the necessary preparations
for the execution, in the valley traversed by the branch. Beneath the
site of Pfout’s and Russel’s stone building there was a corral, the
gate-posts of which were strong and high. Across the top was laid a
beam, to which the rope was fastened, and a dry-goods box served for the
platform. To this place Slade was marched, surrounded by a guard,
composing the best-armed and most numerous force that has ever appeared
in Montana Territory.
The doomed man had so exhausted himself by tears, prayers, and
lamentations, that he had scarcely strength left to stand under the
fatal beam. He repeatedly exclaimed, "My God! my God! must I die?
Oh my dear wife!"
On the return of the fatigue party, they encountered some friends of
Slade, staunch and reliable citizens and members of the Committee, but
who were personally attached to the condemned. On hearing of his
sentence, one of them, a stout-hearted man, pulled out his handkerchief
and walked away, weeping like a child. Slade still begged to see his
wife most piteously, and it seemed hard to deny his request; but the
bloody consequences that were sure to follow the inevitable attempt at a
rescue that her presence and entreaties would have certainly incited,
forbade the granting of his request. Several gentlemen were sent for to
see him in his last moments, one of whom (Judge Davis) made a short
address to the people; but in such low tones as to be inaudible, save to
a few in his immediate vicinity. One of his friends, after exhausting
his powers of entreaty, threw off his coat and declared that the
prisoner could not be hanged until he himself was killed. A hundred guns
were instantly leveled at him; whereupon he turned and fled; but, being
brought back, he was compelled to resume his coat, and to give a promise
of future peaceable demeanor.
Scarcely a leading man in Virginia could be found, though numbers of
the citizens joined the ranks of the guard when the arrest was made. All
lamented the stern necessity which dictated the execution.
Everything being ready, the command was given. "Men, do your
duty," and the box being instantly slipped from beneath his feet,
he died almost instantaneously.
The body was cut down and carried to the Virginia Hotel, where, in a
darkened room, it was scarcely laid out, when the unfortunate and
bereaved companion of the deceased arrived, at headlong speed, to find
that all was over, and that she was a widow. Her grief and
heart-piercing cries were terrible evidences of the depth of her
attachment for her lost husband, and a considerable period elapsed
before she could regain the command of her excited feelings.
J. A. Slade was, during his connection with the Overland Stage
Company, frequently involved in quarrels which terminated fatally for
his antagonists. The first and most memorable of these was his encounter
with Jules, a station-keeper at Julesburg, on the Platte River. Between
the inhabitants, the emigrants, and the stage people, there was a
constant feud, arising from quarrels about missing stock, alleged to
have been stolen by the settlers, which constantly resulted in personal
difficulties, such as beating, shooting, stabbing, etc., and it was from
this cause that Slade became involved in a transaction which has become
inseparably associated with his name, and which has given a coloring and
tone to all descriptions of him, from the date of the occurrence to the
present day.
There have been so many versions of the affair, all of them differing
more or less in important particulars, that it has seemed impossible to
get at the exact truth; but the following account may be relied on as
substantially correct:
From overlanders and dwellers on the road we learn that Jules was
himself a lawless and tyrannical man, taking such liberties with the
coach stock and carrying matters with so high a hand that the company
determined on giving the agency of the division to J. A. Slade. In a
business point of view, they were correct in their selection. The coach
went through at all hazards. It is not to be supposed that Jules would
submit to the authority of a new-comer, or, indeed, of any man that he
could intimidate; and a very limited intercourse was sufficient to
increase the mutual dislike of the parties, so far as to occasion an
open rupture and bloodshed. Slade, it is said had employed a man
discharged by Jules, which irritated the latter considerably; but the
overt act that brought matters to a crisis was the recovery by Slade of
a team "sequestrated" by Jules. Some state that there had been
a previous altercation between the two; but, whether this be true or
not, it appears certain that on the arrival of the coach, with Slade as
a passenger, Jules determined to arrest the team, then and there; and
that finding Slade was equally determined on putting them through, a few
expletives were exchanged, and Jules fired his gun, loaded with
buckshot, at Slade, who was unarmed at the time, wounding him severely.
At his death, Slade carried several of these shots in his body. Slade
went down the road, till he recovered of his wound. Jules left the
place, and in his travels never failed to let everybody know that he
would kill Slade, who, on his part, was not backward in reciprocating
such promises. At last, Slade got well; and, shortly after, was informed
that his enemy had been "corralled by the boys," whereupon he
went to the place designated, and, tying him fast, shot him to death by
degrees. He also cut off his ears, and carried them in his vest pocket
for a long time.
One man declares that Slade went up to the ranch where he had heard
that Jules was and, "getting the drop on him," that is to say,
covering him with his pistol before he was ready to defend himself, he
said, "Jules, I am going to kill you;" to which the other
replied, "Well, I suppose I am gone up; you’ve got me now;"
and that Slade immediately opened fire and killed him with his revolver.
The first story is the one almost universally believed in the West,
and the act is considered entirely justifiable by the wild Indian
fighters of the frontier. Had he simply killed Jules, he would have been
justified by the accepted Western law of retaliation. The prolonged
agony and mutilation of his enemy, however, admit of no excuse.
While on the road, Slade ruled supreme. He would ride down to a
station, get into a quarrel, turn the house out of windows, and maltreat
the occupants most cruelly. The unfortunates had no means of redress,
and were compelled to recuperate as best they could. On one of these
occasions, it is said, he killed the father of the fine little
half-breed boy, Jemmy, whom he adopted, and who lived with his widow
after his execution. He was a gentle, well-behaved child, remarkable for
his beautiful, soft, black eyes, and for his polite address.
Sometimes Slade acted as a lyncher. On one occasion, some emigrants
had their stock either lost or stolen and told Slade, who happened to
visit their camp. He rode, with a single companion, to a ranch, the
owners of which he suspected, and opening the door, commenced firing at
them, killing three and wounding the fourth.
As for minor quarrels and shootings, it is absolutely certain that a
minute history of Slade’s life would be one long record of such
practices. He was feared a great deal more, generally, than the
Almighty, from Kearney, west. There was, it seems, something in his bold
recklessness, lavish generosity, and firm attachment to his friends,
whose quarrel he would back, everywhere and at any time, that endeared
him to the wild denizens of the prairie, and this personal attachment it
is that has cast a veil over his faults, so dark that his friends could
never see his real character, or believe their idol to be a
blood-stained desperado.
Stories of his hanging men and of innumerable assaults, shootings,
stabbings, and beatings, in which he was a principal actor, form part of
the legends of the stage line; nevertheless, such is the veneration
still cherished for him by many of the old stagers, that any insult
offered to his memory would be fearfully and quickly avenged. Whatever
he did to others, he was their friend, they say; and so they will say
and feel till the tomb closes over the last of his old friends and
comrades of the Overland.
It should be stated that Slade was, at the time of his coming West, a
fugitive from justice in Illinois, where he killed a man with whom he
had been quarreling. Finding his antagonist to be more than his match,
he ran away from him, and in his flight, picking up a stone, he threw it
with such deadly aim and violence that it penetrated the skull of his
pursuer, over the eye, and killed him. Johnson, the sheriff, who pursued
him for nearly four hundred miles, was in Virginia City not long since,
as we have been informed by persons who knew him well.
Such was Captain J. A. Slade, the idol of his followers, the terro |
