Forty Years of Hardware, Saunders Norvell meets bad-man Soapy Smith

Soapy's shoulder holster
Jeff Smith collection

(Click image to enlarge)

ORTY YEARS OF HARDWARE

Saunders Norvell meets Soapy Smith

In 1924 Saunders Norvell published the book, Forty Years of Hardware, his adventures as a hardware salesman. The year is probably in the mid-1890s when he takes a train on a business trip to Leadville, Colorado. Saunders knew Soapy well enough that the two men recognized one another on the train, but Saunders did not know Soapy as intimately as he was about get to. In writing his book, Saunders could have easily made up a harrowing story of terror at meeting face-to-face with the "very dangerous ambler and gunman," but he doesn't. Instead, we read about two humans from two entirely different paths, that understand and trust one-another. Instead, we read about an encounter perhaps 30 years in the past, and 26 years after Soapy's demise. Twenty-six years, and Saunders still refers to Soapy Smith as "friend."

But let us return to Colorado, pick up our catalog case, catch the D. and R. G. narrow-gauged train and start out on one of our adventures in selling goods. One snowy night on the D. and R. G., bound for Leadville, there were only two passengers in the smoking room of the little Pullman. One was “Soapy” Smith and the other was a young hardware salesman. “Soapy” was a gambler and a gunman and had the reputation of being a very dangerous man. There were many stories about his accuracy and quickness with his gun. “Soapy” was one of that class of men living in the West at that time who always took a seat with their back to the wall and who never cared to sit in a room in a lonely place with the windows open and the lamps lighted. I do not know just how many men “Soapy” had killed, but I understood there were a good many notches on the butt of his revolver. I had met “Soapy” several times before in hardware stores and in gambling palaces, so our greeting was friendly.

     It was quite warm in the compartment so “Soapy” undid the buttons of his vest. I was interested to observe that instead of carrying his two guns on his hips, strapped around his waist, as we usually see them these days in the movies, “Soapy” had a sort of harness around his shoulders. The holsters of his two large Colt revolvers (this was long before the days of automatics) hung under his arms and the butt of each revolver pointed forward, just concealed by the top of his vest. With this contrivance the bad man of the West never reached for his hip, in theatrical fashion, thus advertising to his adversary what was to be expected. Not at all! When “Soapy” started in action all he had to do was to gently put his hand inside of the upper part of his vest and with one swing the other fellow was “covered.” As I sat in the smoker and observed this display of artillery, I thought that every man must attend carefully to the details of his trade.

     Now in my coat I had two large pockets, one on either side, and in each of these pockets I had a specially prepared leather case that held six of the old-fashioned type of razors. In those days a razor that cost about $7 per dozen sold for $12—a net profit of $5 per dozen. The extra fancy razors, full hollow ground, gold etched with pearl and ivory handles, sold all the way from $24 to $36 per dozen, and the profit on them was the Dutchman's 1 per cent (100 per cent). As my arrangement was based not on volume of sales but on profits, I was very partial to the sale of razors. I paid my traveling expenses by my razor sales alone. Therefore I had these two leather cases made and every dealer, before he started buying such staple items as machine bolts, had to listen to my tale on razors first!

     On this evening my friend “Soapy” seemed very depressed. He gave me a very interesting account of his life. He had never intended to be regarded as a bad man. He killed his first man in self defense. He just could not help it. It had to be done. He was terribly sorry and the next man also made it necessary for him to Snuff out his candle. “Then,” said “Soapy,” “I got the reputation of being a gunman, and of course after that whenever there was any little difficulty it was simply a question of the man who could draw the quickest and shoot the straightest. So here I am now, marked as a bad man when as a matter of fact I have a very gentle disposition and an affectionate nature. No one hates trouble more than I do. I would walk a block at any time to keep out of trouble. Sometimes when I see trouble starting I am sorry, but just because I am labeled and pigeon-holed as a bad man other men seem to think on me.” Of course, I expressed my understanding and sympathy. I told him that every man suffered more or less from undeserved reputations. All of us suffered that way, but all we could do was to try to live it down.

     Then, with tears in his eyes, “Soapy” said that he knew very well that he could not always be on his guard—that someday somebody would get him. He referred to the James boys of Missouri, also to the Younger brothers. “You see,” said “Soapy,” “somebody always gets them in the end. Now,” said he, “some day, notwithstanding my gentle and affectionate nature, you will pick up a newspaper and you will read of my being killed with my boots on, because you know a feller can't always get his finger on the trigger first. It's sure to come.” of course, I was awfully sorry for “Soapy” and tried to cheer him up.

     I asked him to let me see his guns, and I noticed that they were Colt 38-calibre with the heavy stock of the 45. He said he liked the heavy stock because it was steadier in the hand. Then I took out my razor cases and showed him my razors. He admired them very much and I was sorry I could not sell him a line. I made him a present of one.

     One day, a few years later, just as “Soapy” had predicted, I took up a newspaper and there was an account of his death in Alaska. He died just as he prophesied—with his boots on. The other fellow drew first. I remember all that day I was pensive and sorrowful on account of the premature and untimely end of my friend “Soapy.” In an Alaskan town on the board sidewalk there is a cross of brass nails marking the spot where “Soapy” fell.

Soapy's shoulder holster: May 6, 2014

"A hero is a hero but everybody loves a good villain."

—Ferb (Phineas and Ferb)

JUNE 19

1586: English colonists sail away from Roanoke Island, North Carolina, after failing to establish England's first permanent settlement in America.

1778: General George Washington's troops leave Valley Forge after a winter of training.

1846: The New York Knickerbocker Club plays the New York Club in the first organized baseball game at the Elysian Field, Hoboken, New Jersey.

1862: President Abraham Lincoln outlines his Emancipation Proclamation, which bans slavery in U.S. territories.

1864: The USS Kearsarge sinks the CSS Alabama off of Cherbourg, France during the Civil War.

1865: Galveston, Texas is retaken by Union forces during the Civil War.

1865: The emancipation of slaves is proclaimed in Texas.

1867: The Kansas Pacific Railroad reaches Fort Ellsworth, Kansas from Kansas City, Missouri.

1867: The Belmont Stakes is run for the first time in New York.

1876: Washakie and 200 Eastern Shoshone Indian warriors arrive too late to aid General Crook at Rosebud Creek, Montana Territory.

1876: Fire erupts in Virginia City, Nevada destroying twenty-five buildings.

1877: Horse thieves, A. J. Allen, Louis Curry, and James Hall are captured and jailed at Rapid City, Dakota Territory. A mob breaks into the jail and lynches the men.

1880: George Flatt, a former lawman is shot to death in Caldwell, Kansas. It is believed to have been the deed of Deputy Marshal J. Frank Hunt.

1898: Soapy Smith is reported to have been killed. The report turns out to be false.