CHAPTER I.
MY FIRST EXPERIENCE IN THE CIRCUS--AN ACCIDENT AND A CHANGE OF CALLING--FAMILY AFFECTION--POP-CORN--A LITTLE CHEEK, AND A GREAT DEAL OF DISMAY--SUCCESS AS A DEALER IN GRAIN--BEING AN ACTOR--CAUGHT AGAIN--BLOOD AND ITS CONSEQUENCES--BAILED OUT, AND IN AGAIN--THE GOOD-NATURED IRISHMAN--CHANGE OF VENUE--ANOTHER PROFESSION.
Actor, trapper, scout, gold-digger, and guide, my life, very unlike thatof most of my readers, has been one of plenty of change and adventure,but certainly not of money-making. They say "A rolling stone gathers nomoss." I have had good reason to feel this proverbial truth, having beena wanderer on the face, if not of this earth, at all events, of thiscontinent.
My earliest recollection, which is worth my own remembrance, is adecidedly unpleasant one. When no more than eight years of age I wasconnected with the Circus of Dan Rice. Necessarily, I was a veryunimportant member of it; and not feeling that it was in every respectwhat I thought a circus-life ought to be, I took it into my head to runaway from it. Before I had covered sufficient ground to get out of theagent's reach, he caught me, and I had the gratification of being verywell and soundly flogged. The smart of this judicial visitation upon myskin still recurs to me at times, and renders the locality in Kentucky,where the flogging took place, a very sore spot in my memory. Iconsequently will not name it.
In spite of this escapade, I gradually became a proficient in bare-backriding, vaulting, on the slack-rope and in the trapeze-performance,excelling all the boys attached to the circus, and in consequence becamethe pet of Old Dan, with whom I remained for three years. My youthfulambition to shine in this career was, however, brought to an untimelyclose. An uncle of mine discovered me on the Mississippi, andimmediately wrote to my father, who, at the time I left home, had beenthe landlord of the United States Hotel in Galena. Making a somewhatwrathful pilgrimage in search of his missing offspring, he caught upwith me at some small place in Kentucky, reclaimed me from the vocationof my choice, and after taking me home and chastising me in a trulyparental fashion, bound me out as an apprentice to the villageblacksmith. It would be needless to say, that the forge was by no meansas pleasant an occupation, to my youthful mind, as the daring life onthe sawdust of the arena.
Some six months after, I forgot the parental scourge, and wrote a letterto the manager of Older and Orton's Circus, which was then performing atPortage City, Wisconsin.
What sort of a letter it was, I can now scarcely tell. But my educationhad not been remarkable in its extent, and it may be presumed theorthography as well as the calligraphy, possibly, astonished him whoreceived it. If so, he never mentioned the fact to me, but returned me afavorable answer. Consequently, I once more made tracks, and joined themfor the season.
Here I was so successful, and became such a general favorite, that Ireceived the offer of a star-engagement from Levi North, with whom Iremained until an injury received on the occasion of my benefit, in theexecution of an unusually daring feat of horsemanship, brought ourconnection to an end. The company were obliged to leave me behind themin Chicago.
My recovery was slow and tedious. Although my professional brethrendisplayed great kindness to me, in every way, the means I had made, evenwith their assistance, were insufficient for my needs. Once or twice, Ithought of writing to my relatives in Galena.
The supposable wrath of my paternal proprietor, however, deterred mefrom doing so. The shiver of filial fear at his retributive justiceinduced me to make an effort to support myself in a new field. This wasin a grocery store at the corner of Randolph and Deerborne streets, keptby a man named Martin. It was a widely different sphere of exertion fromthat in which my previous employment had been cast, as well as one evenmore different from that in which I was afterwards to make my mark.Often, since, I have laughed over this period of my life. In the Forgeand the Circus, I had learnt much which might fit me for my future. But,it is somewhat curious for Buckskin Mose ever to have figured inpeddling or carrying out tea and sugar, potted fruits and whiskey, withother such necessaries and luxuries, from a corner-grocery.
But I was not destined to continue at this work for any length of time.One day, a fire occurred on the premises, and in endeavoring to rescue akeg of brandy from the flames, I slipped upon the ice in front of thestore--it was then midwinter--and broke my arm.
This untoward accident threw me again out of employment, and I remembermy angry feelings while the doctor was placing my maimed limb insplints, and I was thinking what I could do for a living. Some few daysafter, when, worn out by the suffering and compulsory inactionconsequent upon this accident, I was wandering through the streets, Istumbled upon another uncle of mine.
He was one of the millionnaires of Chicago. As many men have grown richby the sudden growth of the cities in which they live, rather than bytheir own efforts, he had gained his dollars. But in doing so, he hadforgotten his love for those who bore his name. At any rate, he had doneso for me, as far as extending me any helping hand in my immediatenecessity.
"You must work, my boy! Only see what I have done. No friends assistedme. I began at the lowest rung of the ladder, and now I am pretty welloff in the world. God bless you!"
Then he tapped me on the shoulder in a benevolent manner, and walked on,never thinking of assisting the beneficence he had asked to bless me.
But I had to live. With my broken arm, what was there left for me toattempt? Davy Crockett mentions the shell-corn business at one period ofhis eventful life, as having suggested itself to him. Why should not Ibecome a pop-corn merchant in a humble approach to the calling the heroof Kentucky had once followed. But, to my intense disgust, on diligentinquiry, I could find no pop-corn in the whole of Chicago, whether forlove or money, save in one store. The amount demanded for this wasthirty dollars. Of the last article mentioned above--money--I had none.Of the first, I had plenty. But this was not a circulating medium. As,with my unlamed hand, I was scraping my forehead in the hope of exhumingan idea, I looked up and found myself in front of a grocery store. Itsowner was standing behind the counter. His face wore a benevolent andkindly expression. At no time in my life, from that in which I ran awayfrom Dan Rice's Circus, have I been long in forming a determination. SoI walked in, and asked him for the loan of the money, with which Iintended to monopolize the pop-corn trade.
"Thirty dollars!" he exclaimed.
He was profoundly astonished, and on reflection, I am compelled to say,well he might be.
"That's the exact sum I want," was my answer.
"But, young fellow! you're an entire stranger to me."
"So you are to me," I undauntedly replied. "I don't know you from Adamor any other fellow. But I like your face, and so, if you want a lift, Idon't mind taking you with me into the pop-corn business."
He smiled. His smile was indeed a full-fed and jolly laugh.
"Well!" he said, "upon my word, I rather like your frank cheek. We'll goand see about it."
The result of the inquiries of Mr. Dobbs, the grocer in question, wasthat he not only advanced me the money to purchase the whole stock, butallowed me to store the corn in his own establishment. At the time itdid not strike me as being so, but was doubtless the result of asagacious forethought, as, should I fail in keeping my daily accountssquare, he could easily foreclose on my stock-in-trade. Be this as itmay, Mr. Dobbs did more for me. All well-regulated communities indulgein the licensing business--to a greater or less extent. So did, andprobably does, Chicago. The unlicensed sale of pop-corn would have beena risky affair. When he told me this, my face fell. How was I to get alicense.
Mr. Dobbs was equal to the emergency on this occasion, also.
"Come along with me to the Mayor."
It was the first occasion on which I had ever stood in the actualpresence of such a high civic dignitary. The introduction was an era inmy life. It would have been in that of any boy. The reader may thereforeimagine that my equanimity, which my new friend had thought proper todenominate "cheek," felt somewhat abashed, as the magistra
te looked upfrom his desk, and gazing, as I fancied, sternly at me, said:
"What is the matter now, Mr. Dobbs?"
"Mr. Mayor," responded Mr. Dobbs, "I wish to introduce to you a youngfriend of mine, who wishes to take out a license to sell pop-corn."
"It will be a hundred and fifty dollars."
I looked from the Mayor to my new friend. One hundred and fifty dollars!Where was the money to come from? I never before felt so nearwhimpering. Very certainly, I have never since. My boyhood must beremembered, as an apology for this tendency on my part. I was unable, inthe extremity of my trouble, to utter a word of entreaty.
"He has no money, Mr. Mayor!" answered Mr. Dobbs. "So you must deal askindly as possible with him."
The magistrate laughed, not at what my friend had said, but at mypainful look of dismay. Mr. Dobbs also chuckled slightly. Then the Mayorobserved:
"I will see what can be done for the lad. He seems a bright youngfellow."
After saying this, he named the most liberal terms for the license, andwhen it was made out by his clerk and Mr. Dobbs had paid for it, with avery low bow, I turned to leave the office. At this moment a gentlemanentered, whom the Mayor introduced to my benefactor. After doing so, hewas beginning to mention what I had come to him for, when the new-comerturned to me, saying:
"Why, I know this young lad. He is my nephew."
The Mayor gazed at me and Mr. Dobbs, with some considerable surprise, ashe ejaculated:
"Indeed!"
I felt that my face had crimsoned up to the very roots of my hair, butmy reply was prompt and very bitter:
"You are entirely wrong, sir!"
It was impossible for me to avoid recalling the fact that he had notmade me the slightest offer of assistance, while my generous benefactorhad not only loaned me money, but given me some three hours of histime--the last, possibly, being the greatest amount of kindness.
"How?" said my uncle, knitting his brows. "Are not you the son of Mr.----, of Galena?"
"Yes."
"And you were born there?"
"Of course, I was."
"Your father had a brother in this city?"
"I know he had."
"Then, I am that brother and your uncle. You know it, for you spoke tome only yesterday."
"Did I?" was my angry exclamation.
Making another bow to the Mayor, I turned and walked out, leaving mydisgusted uncle to stare, and, if he was given to profanity, to swearafter me.
The pop-corn business, so strangely commenced, grew and prospered. Frommy one small basket, it gradually extended itself. At last aregiment--or rather one small company of boys--with cans containing it,with the name of "Mose" painted on them, strapped upon their shoulders,sold pop-corn in the streets, the cars, the theatres, and the hotels.Why or how I came to take the name of "Mose," it is perhaps difficult tosay. But I had commenced life in the Circus, when the "Mose" of Chanfrauwas an universally quoted name throughout the country. It had been myname on the bills with Dan Rice, Older and Orton, and Levi North.Remaining in my memory, it probably stuck to me when I embarked in mynew calling.
"The pop-corn business, so strangely commenced, grew andprospered."--_Page 16._]
Comparative wealth seemed to be pouring in on me. In a measure, I wasbecoming not only a lad of means, but somewhat locally celebrated underthe name of my adoption.
To account for my rapidly gaining money, it must be remembered that onebushel of shelled, makes eleven of popped corn. My profits wereconsequently in proportion, even if the whole trade of Chicago, in thisthriftily manufactured commodity, had not been in my hands.
With the termination of my winter's sale of pop-corn which closed, I maystate, with gratification, with as much gain for the good Mr. Dobbs asfor myself, I had again to think of employment. Luckily, the results ofmy two accidents were now entirely healed, and although I could scarcelyhave risked appearing yet in the circus, I saw no reason to preclude mefrom going behind the footlights. After some difficulty, theatricalsbeing less overstocked then, than now, I obtained an engagement atRice's, latterly known as MacVicker's Theatre.
It was here decided that comic business was my "line," and the public,not unnaturally, were more than kind to one whom pop-corn had made asort of favorite.
However, it was not until the following winter that a positive successrewarded me in my new profession. I had been offered an engagement byLangrish and Atwater, of Wisconsin, and accepted it. This was when I hadnearly reached the rawly ripe age of sixteen. These managers gave meevery chance of displaying what talent I chanced to have. Not only weresuch parts as _Ragged Pat_ and the _Irish Tutor_ intrusted to me, but Ishone also with, I now suspect, a somewhat doubtful light in "The FlyingDutchman," "The Spectre Bridegroom," "Nick of the Woods," and "TenNights in a Bar-room." Irishman, Dutchman, Cockney, Yorkshireman, andYankee all came indifferently to my share.
Bright visions of future reputation as a legitimate actor began to riseupon me; but at the close of this season, the difficulty of procuringanother engagement forced me to become a theatrical Arab in YankeeSimpson's travelling company.
After a brief wandering under their tent, I dissolved my connection withit, and returned to my last year's Eldorado--Chicago. The reason for mytaking this step, it is unnecessary to put in print. The theatricalprofession will readily divine it, when they are told that shortlyafter, I formed a not unimportant member of a joint-stock travellingcompany, which for the next six months ran through Illinois andWisconsin. We had reached Racine, in the latter State, when ourco-operative speculation came to a sudden end. One morning, on quittingour virtuous couches, we found that the bed on which our treasurerreposed had not been tenanted. The vagabond had "absquatulated" with thewhole of the joint-stock funds.
Here was a situation for the future Forrests, Placides, Broughams, andJeffersons of the American stage--for, as such, we considered ourselves.We were "dead broke."
Four of these budding reputations, Wolf, Sam Ryan, McManus, and myself,were tendered by the tenderhearted public a Benefit, to rescue us fromour financial difficulties. It need scarcely be said with what a buoyantsense of gratitude its pecuniary results were received by us.
Once more, I struck for Chicago. It was in a beeline.
It need scarcely be explained that I, at any rate, was heartily sick ofthe joint-stock travelling business in theatricals.
Here, old Dan Emmett, of Emmett's Varieties, in Randolph Street,Chicago, gave me a short engagement, after the close of which Iaccompanied Maggie Mitchell to Milwaukie, where I played with that ladyat the Academy of Music.
The engagement had been for Miss Mitchell most successful, when oneevening my horror may be imagined at seeing the face of my father amongthe audience in front of the scenes. For the moment, I felt as if Ishould be glad to see the stage open, and sink through it. My tongueseemed cleaving to the roof of my month. How I got through my part, itwould be impossible to say. But I managed to do so, and was in mydressing-room when the call-boy entered and informed me a gentleman waswaiting to see me.
"Why was he let in?" I roared out.
"Please; Mister! he said he wanted to see you on most importantbusiness."
Rushing to the window of the dressing-room, I looked out. It was no useof thinking of escape, that way. The room was on the third story. A leapfrom it was not to be thought of, even if the loose brick and timberpiled at the base of the wall of the theatre had not rendered it doublya mad experiment. Delaying as long as I could, I was at last forced todescend. It was, on my part, a decidedly unrehearsed scene in real life.
I do not like to speak of my father's remonstrance, or the tears whichaccompanied his appeal to me to return home. My pride prevented me fromweeping, but it could scarcely do so. And, indeed, when he took someconsiderable blame to himself for having thrown me upon this (as he waspleased to call it) vagabond life, I am not quite certain that my eyeswere not wet as well as his.
Suffice it, that, at the close of my present engagement, I consented
tocomply with his wishes, and renounce the stage. Then, and only then, heleft me.
On my way home, at the close of the performances, in Milwaukie, ofMaggie Mitchell, I had determined to pause for a day or two with afriend who was then in Waukegan. Lewis was considerably older thanmyself, and since we had first met I had become much attached to him, asyouth generally does to greater years when they choose to associate withit. Here occurred my third physical misadventure.
One evening, while walking, with him, down the principal street, a man,in company with several others, accosted him.
What words were interchanged between them, I can scarcely recollect. AllI know, is, that it was one of those inexplicable quarrels which ariseabout females.
They came to blows, and endeavoring to separate the two, I received aheavy one upon my jaw from a slung-shot, which knocked out two of myback teeth, and stretched me senseless on the ground. After this I knewnothing more, save that when I recovered consciousness I was led to theroom of Lewis, by himself. While lying upon the bed, not yet aware ofthe full extent of the injury done me, I was recalled to my completesenses by a terrific clamor in the street. Then, for the first time, Ilearnt from Lewis that he had made short work of one of the gang who hadattacked him, by stabbing him fatally.
The infuriated populace had followed us, and had determined uponlynching both, as speedily as possible.
Lewis looked white, and fearfully scared, as he listened to their savageyells. But it must frankly be owned that I was as thoroughly scared ashe was; although I retained my presence of mind, leapt from the bed, andwas about barricading the door of the apartment--because it would havebeen impossible to prevent them entering the house. Then there came amomentary pause, and the voice of some one having authority was heard inthe street, addressing the crowd.
"Thank Heaven!" cried Lewis. "It is the sheriff."
The pause, however, had only been momentary. So wild was the fierceburst of derision that followed, I almost thought my companion had beenpremature in his thankfulness. There was a fierce struggle audiblewithout, which lasted for some few minutes, and then the sheriff and hisofficers were victorious. They demanded admittance in the name of thelaw, and after entering the house, arrested Lewis on the charge ofmurder, and myself as an accomplice.
A brief examination, however, soon proved my complete innocence, and Iwas discharged, but ordered to give bonds for my appearance against myfriend. Of course I was unable to provide the requisite sureties, beingan entire stranger; and in consequence was locked up in the debtors'prison. Here was a situation. With my face swollen from the effects ofthe blow, two of my teeth knocked out, and my lip and nose fearfullycut, and incarcerated because I could not get bail! Lewis, nevertheless,did not desert me. A stranger in Waukegan who had seen me in Milwaukee,and had heard part of my story from a friend of my father's, recognizedmy name, and after verifying my identity by ocular proof (it must havebeen somewhat difficult in my then disfigured condition), wrote theparticulars of my trouble to him. He had but just returned to Galena,and was daily expecting me. Only judge what my surprise must have been,on seeing him one fine morning appear in the place of my confinement. Ifon our last encounter I would have avoided him, what would I not nowhave given to have escaped seeing him; under such circumstances.
It seemed, however, that my fears of his reproaches were wrong. He gavebail for my appearance upon the trial at the next term, and took me homewith him, without uttering a single reproach.
Perhaps, as I have since imagined, he may have thought all suchreproach would have been useless with such a confirmed "ne'er-do-weel"as he must perforce have believed me.
At the time appointed I, of course, reappeared in Waukegan.Unfortunately my father had been unable to leave his home, never for aninstant imagining his services might again be required. Owing, however,to the incompetency of the District Attorney or the astuteness of myfriend's counsel, the trial of the latter was deferred until thesucceeding term of Court; and what was my disgust at finding, havingsurrendered on my bail, I was again to have a domicile under lock andkey until the new trial, unless my parent again put in an appearanceupon the scene. But, even while the sheriff was preparing once more toescort me to jail, a voice from among the crowd in the Court-room sangout, in that delicious Irish brogue I had so often endeavored on thestage to imitate with my own tongue:
"Would yer honor accept the likes of bail, for the poor boy?"
It must be candidly admitted, that I had never before entertained sowarm a love for the Irish brogue. It sounded like perfect music to myears. Still more did it do so, when, after a brief confab between theJudge and the District Attorney, the proffered bail was accepted, andwith a kindly but vigorous slap on my back, my new bondsman exclaimed:
"Now! my boy, all I ask of ye, is, that ye don't throw me in for thebail. When ye were shut up before, yer face didn't spake much for ye.But now, I couldn't bear to see a good-looking fellow as ye are trottingoff to jail for nothing at all."
A roar of laughter from those who were present followed this speech.Very certainly, as my Irish friend said, my "face didn't spake much forme," upon that previous occasion, if it did possibly justify hiswarm-heartedness now. But, as the great dramatist says: "One touch ofkindness makes the whole world kin;" and to a certain extent at anyrate, on this occasion, it did so. His goodness of heart had struck ananswering chord in the bosom of all the spectators. They crowded aroundme, offering their congratulations, and shaking my hands with a vigorwhich might have gone far to prove that they would have done the samekindness for me, provided they had merely chanced to think of it.
Once more, I returned to my father, and resided with him until the Courta third time convened, when I again returned to Waukegan, and proved tothe good-hearted Irishman that the lad he had become bondsman for, wasnot "the boy to throw him in for the bail."
Now, however, I found that a change of venue had been obtained for thetrial, and I was obliged to go to Chicago. It was a fourth timedeferred, and on my inability or unwillingness to give new bonds in acity where I could easily have procured bail, I was ordered to prisonfor a third time. The sheriff, of course, had no discretion allowed himin obeying the order of the Court. He therefore conducted me to prison,when he duly locked the door of my cell upon me. Immediately after, heunlocked it, saying:
"Look here, Mose! I have obeyed orders and locked you, up. Now I haveunlocked the door, and am going to let you out, if you choose to act asmy deputy."
Gladly enough, I consented and entered at once upon my duties. It wouldperhaps be unnecessary to say that the sheriff had a few years sincecontributed by his own patronage to my success as a pop-corn merchant,and had subsequently been acquainted with my theatrical struggles. Inaddition to this, he had heard the history of my connection with thecase, and felt a kindly disposition to befriend one who had beenunfairly implicated in the matter from the beginning.