Tracks of a Rolling Stone Part 11

There is only one other argument against capital punishment that is worth considering.

The objection so strenuously pleaded by d.i.c.kens in his letters to the 'Times'-viz. the brutalising effects upon the degraded crowds which witnessed public executions-is no longer apposite. But it may still be urged with no little force that the extreme severity of the sentence induces all concerned in the conviction of the accused to shirk the responsibility. Informers, prosecutors, witnesses, judges, and jurymen are, as a rule, liable to reluctance as to the performance of their respective parts in the melancholy drama.' The consequence is that 'the benefit of the doubt,' while salving the consciences of these servants of the law, not unfrequently turns a real criminal loose upon society; whereas, had any other penalty than death been feasible, the same person would have been found guilty.

Much might be said on either side, but on the whole it would seem wisest to leave things-in this country-as they are; and, for one, I am inclined to the belief that,

Mercy murders, pardoning those that kill.

CHAPTER XIX

WE were nearly six weeks in the Havana, being detained by Lord Durham's illness. I provided myself with a capital Spanish master, and made the most of him. This, as it turned out, proved very useful to me in the course of my future travels. About the middle of March we left for Charlestown in the steamer _Isabel_, and thence on to New York. On the pa.s.sage to Charlestown, we were amused one evening by the tricks of a conjuror. I had seen the man and his wife perform at the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly. She was called the 'Mysterious Lady.' The papers were full of speculations as to the nature of the mystery. It was the town talk and excitement of the season.

This was the trick. The lady sat in the corner of a large room, facing the wall, with her eyes bandaged. The company were seated as far as possible from her. Anyone was invited to write a few words on a slip of paper, and hand it to the man, who walked amongst the spectators. He would simply say to the woman 'What has the gentleman (or lady) written upon this paper?' Without hesitation she would reply correctly. The man was always the medium. One person requested her, through the man, to read the number on his watch, the figures being, as they always are, very minute. The man repeated the question: 'What is the number on this watch?' The woman, without hesitation, gave it correctly. A friend at my side, a young Guardsman, took a cameo ring from his finger, and asked for a description of the figures in relief. There was a pause. The woman was evidently perplexed. She confessed at last that she was unable to answer. The spectators murmured. My friend began to laugh. The conjuror's bread was at stake, but he was equal to the occasion. He at once explained to the company that the cameo represented 'Leeder and the Swan in a hambigious position, which the lady didn't profess to know nothing about.' This apology, needless to say, completely re-established the lady's character.

Well, recognising my friend of the Egyptian Hall, I reminded him of the incident. He remembered it perfectly; and we fell to chatting about the wonderful success of the 'mystery,' and about his and the lady's professional career. He had begun life when a boy as a street acrobat, had become a street conjuror, had married the 'mysterious lady' out of the 'saw-dust,' as he expressed it-meaning out of a travelling circus.

After that, 'things had gone 'ard' with them. They had exhausted their resources in every sense. One night, lying awake, and straining their brains to devise some means of subsistence, his wife suddenly exclaimed, 'How would it be if we were to try so and so?' explaining the trick just described. His answer was: 'Oh! that's too silly. They'd see through it directly.' This was all I could get out of him: this, and the fact that the trick, first and last, had made them fairly comfortable for the rest of their days.

Now mark what follows, for it is the gist and moral of my little story about this conjuror, and about two other miracle workers whom I have to speak of presently.

Once upon a time, I was discussing with an acquaintance the not unfamiliar question of Immortality. I professed Agnosticism-strongly impregnated with incredulity. My friend had no misgivings, no doubts on the subject whatever. Absolute certainty is the prerogative of the orthodox. He had taken University honours, and was a man of high position at the Bar. I was curious to learn upon what grounds such an one based his belief. His answer was: 'Upon the phenomena of electro-biology, and the psychic phenomena of mesmerism.' His 'first convictions were established by the manifestations of the soul as displayed through a woman called "The Mysterious Lady," who, &c., &c.'

When we have done with our thaumaturgist on board the _Isabel_, I will give another instance, precisely similar to this, of the simple origin of religious beliefs.

The steamer was pretty full; and the conjuror begged me to obtain the patronage of my n.o.ble friend and the rest of our party for an entertainment he proposed to give that evening. This was easily secured, and a goodly sum was raised by dollar tickets. The sleight-of-hand was excellent. But the special performance of the evening deserves description in full. It was that of a whist-playing dog. Three pa.s.sengers-one of us taking a hand-played as in dummy whist, dummy's hand being spread in a long row upon the deck of the saloon cabin. The conjuror, as did the other pa.s.sengers, walked about behind the players, and saw all the players' hands, but not a word was spoken. The dog played dummy's hand. When it came to his turn he trotted backwards and forwards, smelling each card that had been dealt to him. He sometimes hesitated, then comically shaking his head, would leave it to smell another. The conjuror stood behind the dog's partner, and never went near the animal. There was no table-the cards were thrown on the deck.

They were dealt by the players; the conjuror never touched them. When the dog's mind was made up, he took his card in his mouth and laid it on the others. His play was infallible. He and his partner won the rubber with ease.

Now, to those ignorant of the solution, this must, I think, seem inexplicable. How was collusion managed between the animal and its master? One of the conditions insisted upon by the master himself was silence. He certainly never broke it. I bought the trick-must I confess it? for twenty dollars. How transparent most things are when-seen through! When the dog smelt at the right card, the conjuror, who saw all four hands, and had his own in his pocket, clicked his thumb-nail against a finger-nail. The dog alone could hear it, and played the card accordingly.

The other story: A few years after my return to England, a great friend called upon me, and, in an excited state, described a _seance_ he had had with a woman who possessed the power of 'invoking' spirits. These spirits had correctly replied to questions, the answers to which were only known to himself. The woman was an American. I am sorry to say I have forgotten her name, but I think she was the first of her tribe to visit this country. As in the case spoken of, my friend was much affected by the results of the _seance_. He was a well-educated and intelligent man. Born to wealth, he had led a somewhat wildish life in his youth. Henceforth he became more serious, and eventually turned Roman Catholic. He entreated me to see the woman, which I did.

I wrote to ask for an appointment. She lived in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square; but on the day after the morrow she was to change her lodgings to Queen Anne Street, where she would receive me at 11 A.M. I was punctual to a minute, and was shown into an ordinary furnished room.

The maid informed me that Mrs. - had not yet arrived from Charlotte Street, but she was sure to come before long, as she had an engagement (so she said) with a gentleman.

Nothing could have suited me better. I immediately set to work to examine the room and the furniture with the greatest care. I looked under and moved the sofa, tables, and armchairs. I looked behind the curtains, under the rug, and up the chimney. I could discover nothing.

There was not the vestige of a spirit anywhere. At last the medium entered-a plain, middle-aged matron with nothing the least spiritual about her. She seated herself opposite to me at the round table in the centre of the room, and demurely asked what I wanted. 'To communicate with the spirits,' I replied. She did not know whether that was possible. It depended upon the person who sought them. She would ask the spirits whether they would confer with me. Whereupon she put the question: 'Will the spirits converse with this gentleman?' At all events, thought I, the term 'gentleman' applies to the next world, which is a comfort. She listened for the answer. Presently three distinct raps on the table signified a.s.sent. She then took from her reticule a card whereon were printed the alphabet, and numerals up to 10. The letters were separated by transverse lines. She gave me a pencil with these instructions: I was to think, not utter, my question, and then put the pencil on each of the letters in succession. When the letters were touched which spelt the answer, the spirits would rap, and the words could be written down.

My friend had told me this much, so I came prepared. I began by politely begging the lady to move away from the table at which we were seated, and take a chair in the furthest corner of the room. She indignantly complied, asking if I suspected her. I replied that 'all ladies were dangerous, when they were charming,' which put us on the best of terms.

I placed my hat so as to intercept her view of my operations, and thus pursued them.

Thinking the matter over beforehand, I concluded that when the questioner, of either s.e.x, was young, love would very probably be the topic; the flesh, not the spirit, would be the predominant interest.

Being an ingenuous young man of the average sort, and desperately in love with Susan, let us say, I should naturally a.s.sist the supernatural being, if at a loss, to understand that the one thing wanted was information about Susan. I therefore mentally asked the question: 'Who is the most lovely angel without wings, and with the means of sitting down?' and proceeded to pa.s.s the pencil over the letters, pausing nowhere. I now and then got a doubtful rap on or under the table,-how delivered I know not-but signifying nothing. It was clear the spirits needed a cue. I put the pencil on the letter S, and kept it there. I got a tentative rap. I pa.s.sed at once to U. I got a more confident rap. Then to S.

Rap, rap, without hesitation. A and N were a.s.sented to almost before I touched them. Susan was an angel-the angel. What more logical proof could I have of the immortality of the soul?

Mrs. - asked me whether I was satisfied. I said it was miraculous; so much so indeed, that I could hardly believe the miracle, until corroborated by another. Would the spirits be kind enough to suspend this pencil in the air? 'Oh! that was nonsense. The spirits never lent themselves to mere frivolity.' 'I beg the spirits' pardon, I am sure,'

said I. 'I have heard that they often move heavy tables. I thought perhaps the pencil would save them trouble. Will they move this round table up to this little one?' I had, be it observed, when alone, moved and changed the relative positions of both tables; and had determined to make this my crucial test. To my astonishment, Mrs. - replied that she could not say whether they would or not. She would ask them. She did so, and the spirits rapped 'Yes.'

I drew my chair aside. The woman remained seated in the corner. I watched everything. Nothing happened. After a while, I took out my watch, and said: 'I fear the spirits do not intend to keep their word. I have an appointment twenty minutes hence, and can only give them ten minutes more.' She calmly replied she had nothing to do with it. I had heard what the spirits said. I had better wait a little longer.

Scarcely were the words out of her mouth, when the table gave a distinct crack, as if about to start. The medium instantly called my attention to it. I jumped out of my seat, pa.s.sed between the two tables, when of a sudden the large table moved in the direction of the smaller one, and did not stop till it had pushed the little one over. I make no comments. No explanation to me is conceivable. I simply narrate what happened as accurately as I am able.

One other case deserves to be added to the above. I have connected both of the foregoing with religious persuasions. The _seance_ I am about to speak of was for the express purpose of bringing a brokenhearted and widowed mother into communication with the soul of her only son-a young artist of genius whom I had known, and who had died about a year before.

The occasion was, of course, a solemn one. The interest of it was enhanced by the presence of the great apostle of Spiritualism-Sir William Crookes. The medium was Miss Kate Fox, again an American. The _seance_ took place in the house of a very old friend of mine, the late Dr. George Bird. He had spiritualistic tendencies, but was supremely honest and single-minded; utterly incapable of connivance with deception of any kind. As far as I know, the medium had never been in the room before.

The company present were Dr. Bird's intimate friend Sir William Crookes-future President of the Royal Society-Miss Bird, Dr. Bird's daughter, and her husband-Mr. Ionides-and Mrs. -, the mother of the young artist. The room, a large one, was darkened; the last light being extinguished after we had taken our places round the dining-table. We were strenuously enjoined to hold one another's hands. Unless we did so the _seance_ would fail.

Before entering the room, I secretly arranged with Mr. Ionides, who shared my scepticism, that we should sit side by side; and so each have one hand free. It is not necessary to relate what pa.s.sed between the unhappy mother and the medium, suffice it to say that she put questions to her son; and the medium interpreted the rappings which came in reply.

These, I believe, were all the poor lady could wish for. To the rest of us, the astounding events of the _seance_ were the dim lights, accompanied by faint sounds of an accordion, which floated about the room over our heads. And now comes, to me, the strangest part of the whole performance. All the while I kept my right arm extended under the table, moving my hand to and fro. Presently it touched something. I make a grab, and caught, but could not hold for an instant, another hand. It was on the side away from Mr. Ionides. I said nothing, except to him, and the _seance_ was immediately broken up.

It may be thought by some that this narration is a bia.s.sed one. But those acquainted with the charlatanry in these days of what is called 'Christian Science,' and know the extent to which cra.s.s ignorance and predisposed credulity can be duped by childish delusions, may have some 'idea how acute was the spirit-rapping epidemic some forty or fifty years ago. 'At this moment,' writes Froude, in 'Fraser's Magazine,' 1863, 'we are beset with reports of conversations with spirits, of tables miraculously lifted, of hands projecting out of the world of shadows into this mortal life. An unusually able, accomplished person, accustomed to deal with common-sense facts, a celebrated political economist, and notorious for business-like habits, a.s.sured this writer that a certain mesmerist, who was my informer's intimate friend, had raised a dead girl to life.' Can we wonder that miracles are still believed in? Ah! no.

The need, the dire need, of them remains, and will remain with us for ever.

CHAPTER XX

WE must move on; we have a long and rough journey before us. Durham had old friends in New York, Fred Calthorpe had letters to Colonel Fremont, who was then a candidate for the Presidency, and who had discovered the South Pa.s.s; and Mr. Ellice had given me a letter to John Jacob Astor-_the_ American millionaire of that day. We were thus well provided with introductions; and nothing could exceed the kindness and hospitality of our American friends.

But time was precious. It was already mid May, and we had everything to get-wagons, horses, men, mules, and provisions. So that we were anxious not to waste a day, but hurry on to St. Louis as fast as we could.

Durham was too ill to go with us. Phoca had never intended to do so.

Fred, Samson, and I, took leave of our companions, and travelling via the Hudson to Albany, Buffalo, down Lake Erie, and across to Chicago, we reached St. Louis in about eight days. As a single ill.u.s.tration of what this meant before railroads, Samson and I, having to stop a day at Chicago, hired a buggy and drove into the neighbouring woods, or wilderness, to hunt for wild turkeys.

Our outfit, the whole of which we got at St. Louis, consisted of two heavy wagons, nine mules, and eight horses. We hired eight men, on the nominal understanding that they were to go with us as far as the Rocky Mountains on a hunting expedition. In reality all seven of them, before joining us, had separately decided to go to California.

Having published in 1852 an account of our journey, ent.i.tled 'A Ride over the Rocky Mountains,' I shall not repeat the story, but merely give a summary of the undertaking, with a few of the more striking incidents to show what travelling across unknown America entailed fifty or sixty years ago.

A steamer took us up the Missouri to Omaha. Here we disembarked on the confines of occupied territory. From near this point, where the Platte river empties into the Missouri, to the mouth of the Columbia, on the Pacific-which we ultimately reached-is at least 1,500 miles as the crow flies; for us (as we had to follow watercourses and avoid impa.s.sable ridges) it was very much more. Some five-and-forty miles from our starting-place we pa.s.sed a small village called Savannah. Between it and Vancouver there was not a single white man's abode, with the exception of three trading stations-mere mud buildings-Fort Laramie, Fort Hall, and Fort Boise.

The vast prairies on this side of the Rocky Mountains were grazed by herds of countless bison, wapiti, antelope, and deer of various species.

These were hunted by moving tribes of Indians-p.a.w.nees, Omahaws, Cheyennes, Ponkaws, Sioux, &c. On the Pacific side of the great range, a due west course-which ours was as near as we could keep it-lay across a huge rocky desert of volcanic debris, where hardly any vegetation was to be met with, save artemisia-a species of wormwood-scanty blades of gramma gra.s.s, and occasional osiers by river-banks. The rivers themselves often ran through canons or gulches, so deep that one might travel for days within a hundred feet of water yet perish (some of our animals did so) for the want of a drop to drink. Game was here very scarce-a few antelope, wolves, and abundance of rattlesnakes, were nearly the only living things we saw. The Indians were mainly fishers of the Shoshone-or Great Snake River-tribe, feeding mostly on salmon, which they speared with marvellous dexterity; and Root-diggers, who live upon wild roots.

When hard put to it, however, in winter, the latter miserable creatures certainly, if not the former, devoured their own children. There was no map of the country. It was entirely unexplored; in fact, Bancroft the American historian, in his description of the Indian tribes, quotes my account of the Root-diggers; which shows how little was known of this region up to this date. I carried a small compa.s.s fastened round my neck. That and the stars (we travelled by night when in the vicinity of Indians) were my only guides for hundreds of dreary miles.

Such then was the task we had set ourselves to grapple with. As with life itself, nothing but the magic powers of youth and ignorance could have cajoled us to face it with heedless confidence and eager zest.

These conditions given, with health-the one essential of all enjoyment-added, the first escape from civilised restraint, the first survey of primordial nature as seen in the boundless expanse of the open prairie, the habitat of wild men and wild animals,-exhilarate one with emotions akin to the schoolboy's rapture in the playground, and the thoughtful man's contemplation of the stars. Freedom and change, s.p.a.ce and the possibilities of the unknown, these are constant elements of our day-dreams; now and then actual life dangles visions of them before our eyes, alas! only to teach us that the aspirations which they inspire are, for the most part, illusory.

Brief indeed, in our case, were the pleasures of novelty. For the first few days the business was a continuous picnic for all hands. It was a pleasure to be obliged to help to set up the tents, to cut wood, to fetch water, to harness the mules, and work exactly as the paid men worked.

The equality in this respect-that everything each wanted done had to be done with his own hands-was perfect; and never, from first to last, even when starvation left me bare strength to lift the saddle on to my horse, did I regret the necessity, or desire to be dependent on another man.

But the bloom soon wore off the plum; and the pleasure consisted not in doing but in resting when the work was done.

For the reason already stated, a sample only of the daily labour will be given. It may be as well first to bestow a few words upon the men; for, in the long run, our fellow beings are the powerful factors, for good or ill, in all our worldly enterprises.

We had two ordinary mule-drivers-Potter and Morris, a little acrobat out of a travelling circus, a _metif_ or half-breed Indian named Jim, two French Canadians-Nelson and Louis (the latter spoke French only); Jacob, a Pennsylvanian auctioneer whose language was a mixture of Dutch, Yankee, and German; and (after we reached Fort Laramie) another Nelson-'William'

as I shall call him-who offered his services gratis if we would allow him to go with us to California.

Jacob the Dutch Yankee was the most intelligent and the most useful of the lot, and was unanimously elected cook for the party. The Canadian Nelson was a hard-working good young fellow, with a pa.s.sionate temper.

Louis was a hunter by profession, Gallic to the tip of his moustache-fond of slapping his breast and telling of the mighty deeds of _nous autres en haut_. Jim, the half-breed was Indian by nature-idle, silent, treacherous, but a crafty hunter. William deserves special mention, not from any idiosyncrasy of the man, but because he was concerned soon after he joined us in the most disastrous of my adventures throughout the expedition.