University of Virginia Library

THE ANTI-RAIL-RODE MAN.

The time was when Judge Lynch exercised a
broad jurisdiction in and about the vicinity of Pineville.
His court claimed to be a “Court of Iniquity,”
and took cognisance of, and punished all those
little delinquencies not “otherwise provided for by
law,” and no informality or lack of proof positive
screened the culprit from the infliction of his summary
mode of punishment. The public constituted
the judge's grand jury, and just so sure as an individual,
by any indiscretion or impropriety of conduct,
rendered himself obnoxious to the community,
just so certain was he compelled to undergo the
sentence of the “Court of Iniquity,” without benefit
of clergy.

We have forgotten who was the first rail-rode
man in Pineville, though we well recollect that
not a few passengers were conveyed out of the
corporate limits of the town, on a single rail, that
being the punishment in ordinary cases. We have
not, however, forgotten the first time that the judge's
sentence was successfully resisted and his power set
at defiance.

John Borum was given to drink, and when under
the influence of liquor was a very turbulent, desperate,
dare-devil sort of a fellow. On that day, John

had indulged to excess, and had got into numerous
quarrels, in one of which he fired a horse-pistol on
a small boy, who returned the compliment by peppering
him with a full charge of shot from a fowling-piece.
The distance between the parties prevented
any serious damage being done, and but for the great
disproportion in the size and age of the antagonists,
the duel between John Borum and the blacksmith's
son would have passed off without notice. It soon
became a town talk, however, and as John went
staggering through the streets, swearing vengeance
and exhibiting his wounds—his right arm and hand
having received several of the shot—his conduct
tended much to increase the excitement against him.
Judge Lynch was not slow to make a decision in
the case, and, before dark, it was currently given
out that John Borum was to be ridden on a rail that
night.

Now, of all other men, perhaps, John Borum had
the greatest aversion to “sittin' on a rail.” He
would rather have died than suffer such an indignity;
and, immediately on receiving the intelligence,
he resolved that they should not catch him “sleepin'
berry sound.” He took another large drink,
and, after clearing his throat, exclaimed in a whining
tone of voice—

“Ride me on a rail!—why I'll be dadfetcht if
I'd be rid on a rail not for five thousand dollars!”

“Well, you'd better put out, then,” said the
gentleman of the bar, as he set back the bottle and
dropped the thrip into the drawer. “Judge Lynch
has said it.”

“Well, now, I'm not a gwine to be sarved
no such trick,” said John. “Judge Lynch be
d—d!”

John sauntered out, sniveling and muttering to
himself—“I'll blow 'em all to everlastin' thunderation,
if they come a projectin' about me!”

He then stepped into Mr. Harley's and purchased
three pounds of powder, which he tied up in a silk
pocket-handkerchief. As it grew towards dark,
John, with his handkerchief under his arm, walked
into a confectionary and grocery establishment kept
by a quiet old Frenchman, where he purchased a
few cigars, and, lighting one of them, commenced
smoking. Already the officers of the high “Court
of Iniquity” were in pursuit of him, and as he saw
them gather round the door, he began to puff away
at his cigar, and mutter curses against “the whole
infernal pack of 'em.”

“Yes,” said he, “you come tryin' that 'ere, and
you'll git waked up worse than you ever was afore
—drat your infernal picters. You jest fool with this
child—that's all—and if I don't blow you to kingdom
come—you see if I don't!”

The crowd which had assembled round the door,
now gradually entered the room, and as they did
so, John flourished his cigar, and cried out—

“Jest you tetch, now! If you lay your hands on
me, I'll send you whirlin', if this here powder's good
for any thing. I don't care a cus for myself, nohow,
for I'd ryther be blowed through the roof of this here
store twenty times, than be rid on a rail once,—a
confounded sight.”

This last speech attracted the attention of Monsieur
Crapeau, who began to cast very uneasy glances at
John's wallet—

“Ha, what dat you shall say, sare?—blow off de
roof from my house?”

“Lay hold of him,” said the judge, who generally
attended the execution of his sentences in person—
“lay hold of him, boys!”

“Stand off! stand off!” exclaimed John at the
top of his voice, holding up the powder in one hand
and the cigar in the other—“Do you see this 'ere
cigar, and this 'ere powder?—Well, jest you lay your
fingers on me, and I'll tetch 'em together quicker'n
lightnin'—If I don't now, dad burn me!”

“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” exclaimed the Frenchman—“Go
out of my house, sare!—begone before
one little minute—what, le diable! will you blow all
up my properte?”

“Well, let 'em let me alone, then. I'll blow all
hands up, and myself too, before I'll be rid on a
rail!”

“Gather him up, boys,” said the judge; “the sentence
of the law must be executed!”

The crowd, which had now greatly increased in
number, gradually drew round the besieged Borum,
and the end of the rail was seen entering the
door.

“Here goes, then!” exclaimed John, drawing the
cigar from his mouth and applying it close to the
handkerchief.

There was a sudden rush to the door, and a confusion
of voices crying out—“Stop! stop!—don't!

don't!”—above all of which might be heard the old
Frenchman, crying—“Murdare! murdare!”

“Well,” said John, as the crowd dispersed, “I'd
jest as lieve be blowed into everlastin' shoestrings
as be rid on a rail!”

“I tell you one, two, several time, begone vid
your pordare—if you shall blow me up, I shall have
you hang, if you no begone from my house. Sacre!
devilment!”

But Borum could neither be persuaded nor driven
from his position against the wall, until the old man
had persuaded the Lynch party to withdraw to some
distance from his door. He then left the house, much
to the relief of Monsieur Crapeau—but ever as the
crowd approached he would prepare to apply the
match. At one time they approached with more
than usual determination, and, when they had got
quite near, one was heard to say—“Bring the
rail!”

“You try it, now!” said John, “and if you don't
git yourselves into a hornet's nest, it'll be because
fire wont burn powder—now mind!”

The circle began cautiously to close around him,
but as he knocked the ashes from his cigar, at the
same time producing a few sparks, preparatory to
touching it to the powder, he was again suddenly
left alone. The individual who had fatigued himself
considerably by carrying the rail, in his sudden
retreat dashed it to the ground, and, exclaiming—
“Non comatible in statu blowupibus!” abandoned
the attempt. The balance of the posse soon imitated
his example, leaving John Borum triumphant.

Thus Judge Lynch, for the first time, witnessed
the utmost contempt for his authority, and the successful
defiance of his power. John Borum occasionally
got into difficulties afterwards, but never was
ridden upon a rail!