My narrative begins casually enough with a passive thumbing of J. Willard Hurst’s Law and the “Conditions of Freedom in the Nineteenth Century United States,” published in 1956. I picked it up at the used bookstore and leafed through the first chapter but did not purchase the volume because I am between.
As I drove home, with the chapter’s opening roaming around the passages of my mind, I began to think, and it started me recollecting Mark Twain’s first published short story. Once home, I did a quick Internet search and found the first chapter, “The Release of Energy.”
“One day, in February of 1836, in the scarce born village of Pike Creek on the southeastern Wisconsin shore of Lake Michigan, Jason Lathrop – Baptist Minister, school teacher, boarding house proprietor, and civic leader — set up on a stump a rude press of his own construction and with ink, which he had made himself printed a handbill setting for the record of the organization meeting of “The Pike River Claimant’s Union… for the attainment and security of titles to claims on Government lands.
The settlers whose union this was had begun to move into the lands about Pike Creek beginning in the summer of 1835. They were squatters; put less sympathetically, they were trespassers.
They might not lawfully come upon the lands before the federal survey was made, and this was not completed in this area until about February 1, 1836; they might not have made formal entry and buy until the President proclaimed the sale day, and Presidents Jackson and Van Buren withheld proclaiming these newly surveyed lands until 1839; they might not establish claims by pre-emption, for the existing pre-emption law expired by limitation in June 1836, and was not immediately renewed because of objections to speculator’s abuse. These were formidable legal obstacles.”
The passage describes how the settlers set up a “government” using elected officials to resolve conflicts between its members since the United States government did not recognize their presence in the frontier. From this, I gathered squatters were not necessarily lawbreakers.
Mark Twain, still Sam Clemens at 18, wrote his first published short story, The Dandy Frightening the Squatter, in 1852.
“About thirteen years ago, when the now flourishing young city of Hannibal, on the Mississippi River, was but a “wood-yard,” surrounded by a few huts, belonging to some hardy “squatters,” and such a thing as a steamboat was considered quite a sight, the following incident occurred:
A tall, brawny woodsman stood leaning against a tree which stood upon the bank of the river, gazing at some approaching object, which our readers would easily have discovered to be a steamboat. About half an hour elapsed, and the boat was moored, and the hands busily engaged in taking on wood.
Now among the many passengers on this boat, both male and female, was a spruce young dandy, with a killing mustache, &c., who seemed bent on making an impression upon the hearts of the young ladies on board, and to do this, he thought he must perform some heroic deed. Observing our squatter friend, he imagined this to be a fine opportunity to bring himself into notice; so, stepping into the cabin, he said:
“Ladies, if you wish to enjoy a good laugh, step out on the guards. I intend to frighten that gentleman into fits who stands on the bank.”
The ladies complied with the request, and our dandy drew from his bosom a formidable-looking bowie knife and thrust it into his belt; then, taking a large horse pistol in each hand, he seemed satisfied that all was right. Thus equipped, he strode on shore, with an air which seemed to say “The hopes of a nation depend on me.” Marching up to the woodsman, he exclaimed:
“Found you at last, have I? You are the very man I’ve been looking for these three weeks! Say your prayers!” he continued, presenting his pistols, “You’ll make a capital barn door, and I shall drill the key- hole myself!”
The squatter calmly surveyed him a moment, and then, drawing back a step, he planted his huge fist directly between the eyes of his astonished antagonist, who, in a moment, was floundering in the turbid waters of the Mississippi.
Every passenger on the boat had by this time collected on the guards, and the shout that now went up from the crowd speedily restored the crest-fallen hero to his senses, and, as he was sneaking off towards the boat, was thus accosted by his conqueror:
“I say, yeou, next time yeou come around drillin’ keyholes, don’t forget yer old acquaintances!”
The ladies unanimously voted the knife and pistols to the victor.”
Between the two shorts, it caused me to realize that our Dandy represents an ordered society. He has two pistols and a knife that enables order but engages in creating disorder.
Our squatter seems complacent, even passive, when confronted by our Dandy. But, when faced with running away or maintaining his rights, he meets violence with violence.
Next, our Dandy demonstrates his belief in power and authority in his nonsensical words. After all, when has a barn door required a keyhole?
Our Squatter’s words, on the other hand, remind our Dandy not to tread on other’s rights without the rule of law. Thus, having won at the city slicker’s game, the Squatter’s character shows the importance of honesty and justice prevailing.
Finally, there is an allegory between the writings referencing the 1830s and today, showing Twain was far ahead of his time.
The Old Blog in the Desert 