I've said in at least one previous review of a Louis L'Amour western that when I come to rate those books, I keep them - in my mind - in a separate category. The very best of L'Amour's books isn't anywhere near great literature (it wouldn't measure up against Jane Eyre, for instance, or Islands In the Stream, or The Big Sleep). But within their own category, this is one of the best, and so I give it five stars.
In this book Crispin Mayo decides to leave Ireland for better pastures and signs aboard a ship bound for the United States. He jumps ship in Boston and sets out west, accepting an offer of work on the Union Pacific Railroad, then building west across the Great Plains (this helps to nail down the time, though at the very end L'Amour tells us that, since the first transcontinental railroad was finished in May of 1869, when the Union Pacific met the Central Pacific in Utah). Through oversleeping while the train he's riding on stops for a bit, he winds up alone at a small station in the middle of nowhere (Wyoming, as it happens, though you have to note various place names to realize that). The station master is missing...until he turns up beaten and shot. From there, Cris Mayo winds up dealing with a gang of former Confederate guerillas who are out first to capture, torture, and kill William T. Sherman, and then Ulysses S. Grant and Phil Sheridan as well as Sherman.
L'Amour does a good job of depicting a foreigner adapting to utterly new conditions that he couldn't even have imagined while back in Ireland. And he does a good job of keeping Mayo talking like an Irishman (or at least what we think of as the way Irishmen talk), which is saying something, since his characters almost always start out talking illiterate and uneducated in the beginning, and before long speak English as well as anyone. He does an equally good job of portraying the Wyoming plains, though at first I envisioned the action as being down in Kansas (as many times as I've read this book, I'd utterly forgotten that it takes place largely in Wyoming). I've found, when there's a map in the front of the book, that sometimes his descriptions of geography can't be correct (e.g. saying a mesa is due west, when the location he's put the characters in is southeast of the mesa, not due east of it). No doubt that's part of why I found it surprising that the story's in Wyoming - but once I did, the scenery fits with what little I know of the Wyoming plains.
Of course the L'Amour formula is at work here. There's a detailed description of a fistfight - in this case a bare knuckle boxing match. There's the fast draw, which didn't exist until the 1950s and the invention of metal lined holsters. The firearms appear to be anachronistic - in 1868 many guns would still be using percussion caps and paper cartridges, though metallic cartridges did exist. This was only three years after the end of the War for Southern Independence, which saw few breechloading arms, and metallic cartridges were developed specifically for guns which loaded through the breech. But this is hardly the worst of L'Amour's anachronisms - in at least two books (The Daybreakers and The Key-Lock Man) he has New Mexico a state at least 30 years before it actually was.
But my biggest gripe with the book is L'Amour's knee jerk portrayal of Confederate guerillas as universally being barbarous thugs. No doubt some were (just as John Brown was a terrorist, and northern guerillas during the war also had their share of vicious criminals). But there were also dedicated people among the guerillas, who behaved as honorably as the regulars, and who were in the fight not for plunder and bloodshed, but because they believed that the United States government had become tyrannical, and the only way for the southern states to enjoy the liberties guaranteed by the US Constitution was to secede and form their own country with its own constitution (which was almost verbatim the text of the US Constitution), and defend that country from northern invasion. They may have been right or they may have been wrong (I have my own opinion on the point), but right or wrong there were honorable guerillas - though you'd never know it from this book, or indeed from any other book in which L'Amour touches on the subject. Perhaps I shouldn't expect anything different, considering that L'Amour was from Jamestown, North Dakota, and was a Yankee in the geographical sense, and probably in the political sense as well.
But leaving the gripes aside - and since no book is perfect, because no author is perfect, I frequently do have gripes about a book that I still rate highly - this is a very enjoyable novel. It's not deep or profound, and it does have its problems, but it is fun to read.