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The Vigilance Committee of '56.



By a Pioneer California Journalist

[James O'Meara]




Chapter I.


Many accounts of the Vigilance Committee of San Francisco have been
published, but all of them, so far as I have seen, were from the pen of
members of that organization, or else from persons who favored it. As a
consequence their accounts of it were either partial, to a greater or
less degree, or imperfect otherwise; and much has been omitted as well
as misstated and misrepresented otherwise. I was not a member of the
Vigilance Committee, nor was I a member of the opposing organization,
known as the Law and Order body, of which General Sherman was the head
and Volney E. Howard next in rank. I have never been in favor of mob or
lynch-law in any form, and, therefore, had neither sympathy with nor
disposition to join the Vigilance Committee. And while I was earnestly
in support of Law and Order, I did not feel that I could better subserve
that cause by joining the organization formed at that time, for the
avowed purpose of maintaining the one and enforcing the other. I had
many friends on each side, and I also knew many in each organization who
were unworthy of fellowship in any good or honorable cause or
association; and some of these bore prominent rank in each organization.
As was said of the Regulators of Texas, who directed their energies
chiefly against horse thieves and robbers, that some of the worst and
most guilty of them hastened to join the band, in order to save
themselves from arrest and the rope or bullet, likewise were there some
prominent in the Vigilance Committee of 1856, who undoubtedly joined it
for similar reasons--to escape the terrors of the organization; and the
Executive Committee was not exempt from these infamous characters.

The Executive Committee, forty-one in number, was thus composed in
membership: William T. Coleman, James Dows, Thomas J. L. Smiley, John P.
Monrow, Charles Doane, James N. Olney, Isaac Bluxome, Jr., William
Meyers, Charles Ludlow,--Christler, Richard M. Jessup, Charles J.
Dempster, George R. Ward, E. P. Flint, Wm. Rogers, Aaron M. Burns, Miers
F. Truitt, W. H. Tillinghast, W. Arrington, Charles L. Case, J. D.
Farwell, W. T. Thompson, Eugene Dellesert, J. K. Osgood, J. W. Brittan,
Jules David, C. V. Gillespie, Calvin Nutting, E. Gorham, N. O.
Arrington, F. W. Page, O. B. Crary, L. Bassange, D. Tubbs, Emile Grisar,
E. B. Goddard, Henry M. Hale, Chas. Ludlow, M. J. Burke, J. H. Fish, C.
P. Hutchings, J. Seligman.

W. T. Coleman was President, Thomas J. L. Smiley Vice-President and
Prosecuting Attorney, John P. Morrow, Judge Associate, James Dows,
Treasurer, Wm. Meyer, Deputy Treasurer, Isaac Bluxome, Jr. the notorious
"33"--Secretary. Charles Doane was Grand Marshall, James N. Olney,
Deputy Grand Marshall, R. T. Wallace was Chief of Police, John L.
Durkee, Deputy Chief.

The military organization of the Vigilance Committee, rank and file,
numbered nearly 5,000 men. Several of the Executive Committee were alien
residents who never became citizens; and in the Committee, serving as
troops, as police, and in other lines, were a large number of aliens,
not naturalized, many of whom had not acquired sufficient proficiency in
the English language to speak it or understand it. The military body
comprised four regiments--infantry and artillery--together with
battalions of cavalry, pistol companies and guard of citizens. A medical
staff was duly organized. The roster, as here given, is copied from a
recent publication in the Alta, stated to be authentic. The dashes which
mark omission of the names, appear as they are placed in the Alta:

Charles Doane, Major-General. Staff officers: N. W. Coles,
Quartermaster-General and Colonel of Cavalry; R. M. Jessup,
Commissary-General and Colonel of Infantry; Aaron M. Burns, Deputy
Commissary-General and Lieutenant-Colonel of Infantry; James Dows,
Paymaster-General and Lieutenant-Colonel of Infantry; William Meyer and
Eugene Dellesert, Paymaster-Generals and Majors of Infantry; Cyrus G.
Dwyer, Adjutant and Inspector-General and Major of Infantry: Henry
Baker, Quartermaster and Major of Infantry; R. R. Pearce and M. McManus,
Assistant Quartermasters and Captains of Infantry; J. W. Farrington,
Assistant Commissary and Captain of Infantry; R. Beverly Cole, Surgeon
of the staff and Major of Infantry; Geo. C. Potter, aid to Major-General
and Major of Cavalry; N. B. Stone, A. M. Ebbetts, T. M. Wood, O. P.
Blackman, George R. Morris, T. A. Wakeman, Felix Brissac, C. H. Vail and
George R. Ward, aids to Major-General and Majors of Infantry, James B.
Hubbell, John M. Schapp and B. F. Mores, aids and secretaries to
Major-General and Captains of Infantry, J. N. Olney, Jr., aid and
secretary to Major-General and First Lieutenant of Infantry; James N.
Olney, Brigadier-General; R. S. Tammot, Henry Jones and R. M. Cox, aids
and Captains of Infantry.

Artillery--Thomas D. Johns, Colonel; J. F. Curtis, Lieutenant-Colonel;
R. B. Hampton, Major; Company A, J. Mead Huxley, Captain; Company B,
James Richit, Captain; Company C, H. C. F. Behrens, Captain; Company D,
J. H. Hasty, Captain; James F. Curtiss, Lieutenant-Colonel, commanding
Reserved Artillery.

Battallion Cavalry--Frank Baker, Major; First Squadron, G. G. Bradt,
Captain; Second Squadron, J. Sewell Read, Captain.

Infantry--First Regiment,--Colonel; J. S. Ellis, Lieutenant-Colonel;
John A. Clark, Major; J. P. H., Wentworth, Quartermaster; H. H. Thrall,
Adjutant; L. S. Wilder, Commissary; R. M. Cox, Sergeant-Major; H. W. F.
Hoffman, Quartermaster's Sergeant and composed of eight companies, viz:
Company A, W. C. Allen, Lieutenant commanding; Company B, H. L. Twiggs,
Captain; Company C, A. L. Loring, Captain; Company D, J. V. McElwee,
Captain; Company One,, J. M. Taylor, Captain; Company Two (Riflemen), L.
W. Parks, Captain; Company Three, Jonathan Gavat, Captain, Company
Seven, Geo. H. Hossefros, Captain.

Battallion Citizens Guard--Belonging to First Regiment, composed of A,
B, C, and D, G. F. Watson, Major.

Second Regiment--J. B. Badger, Colonel; J. S. Hill, Lieutenant-Colonel;
A. H. Clark, Major, Giles H. Gray, Quartermaster; E. B. Gibbs, Adjutant;
F. A. Howe, Commissary;--Sergeant-Major; Judah Alden;
Quartermaster-Sergeant, and composed of eight companies, viz: Company
Six, W. R. Doty, Captain; Company Twelve, C. G. Bailey, Captain; Company
Eight, -- Godfrey, Captain; Company Four, A. H. King, Captain; Company
Five, C. R. Bond, Captain; Company Ten, J. Wightman, Lieutenant
commanding; Company Eleven, George Gates, Captain; Company Nine, J.
Wood, Captain.

Third Regiment--H. S. Fitch, Colonel; Caleb Clapp Lieutenant Colonel;--,
Major;--, Quartermaster;--, Adjutant;--, Commissary;--,
Sergeant-Major;--, Quartermaster-Sergeant, and composed of eight
companies, viz: Company Thirteen, E. J. Smith, Lieutenant commanding;
Company Fourteen, W. E. Keyes, Captain; Company Fifteen,--, Lieutenant
commanding; Company Sixteen, B. S. Bryan, Captain; Company Seventeen
(Riflemen), C. E. S. McDonald, Captain; Company Eighteen, P. W.
Shepheard, Captain; Company Nineteen, R. H. Bennett, Captain; Company
Twenty, S. Gutte, Captain.

Fourth Regiment--Francis J. Lippitt, Colonel; John D. G. Quirk,
Lieutenant-Colonel, ---- , Major; ---- , Quartermaster; B. L. West,
Adjutant;---- , Commissary;---- , Sergeant-Major;---- , Quartermaster's
Sergeant, and composed of eight companies, viz: Company Twenty-five, J.
Sanfrignon, Captain; Company Twenty-eight, L. Armand, Captain; French
Legion,---- Villaseque, Major; Company Twenty-four, W. H. Patten,
Captain; Company Twenty-seven, C. H. Gough, Captain; Company Twenty-one,
S. Meyerbock Captain; Company Twenty-three, J. T. Little, Captain;
Company Thirty, W. O. Smith, Captain; Company Twenty-two, J. L. Folger,
Captain; Company Twenty-nine, S. L. Harrison, Captain; Company
Twenty-six,---- , Captain.

Pistol Battalion--Two companies, commanded respectively by Captains
Webb and E. S. Gibbs.

The roll of Division No. 4 is thus given:

J. A. Collins, Commander, Geo. G. Whitney, 1st Lieut. W. H. Parker, 2d
L't, J. H. Mallett, Orderly Sergeant, R. R. H. Rogers, Second Orderly
Sergeant, Wm. H. Wood, Third Orderly Sergeant, Charles D. Cushman,
Fourth Orderly Sergeant. Privates--D. Morgan, Jr., P. G. Partridge,
John Burns, E. W. Travers. Giles H. Gray, Martin Prag, John Wright,
James Wells, Jas. W. White, Judah Alden, Alfred Rix, J. W. Farrington,
W. L. Waters, W. F. Hall, J. T. Bowers, J. L. N. Shepard, Lucius Hoyt,
David Laville, H. A. Russell, E. Stevens, Theo. B. Cunningham, M.
McMannis, Wm. H. Gibson, Edmund Keyes, George T. Bohen, I. M. Bachelder,
R. T. Holmes, W. F. Shankland, B. Argyras, John R. Chute, John S.
Davies, James McCeny, Geo. H. Tay, Sohn Bensley, L. Bartlett, Joseph W.
Housley, Robert Wells, Samuel Fullerton, Newell Hosmer, J. J. Lomax, G.
K. Fitch, Wm. Hayes, Robert A. Parker, Samuel Soule, A. Wardwell, Isaac
E. Davis, M. McIntyre, F. E. Foote, Thomas A. Ayres, William K.
Blanchard, J. F. Eaton, J. Frank Swift, J. O. Rountree.

These names of Secretaries of the Committees of the Executive Committee
are added: On Evidence--J. H. Titcomb and D. McK Baker; on
Qualification--E. T. Beals.

First, as to the cause or pretence for the organization of the Vigilance
Committee: It is declared by its ex-members and supporters, or
apologists, that it was necessary for the reason that the law was not
duly administered; that the Courts, the fountains of justice, were
either corrupted or neglectful of their duties; that Juries were packed
with unworthy men in important criminal cases, that there were gross
frauds in elections, by which the will of the people was defied and
defeated, and improper and dishonest men, some of them notorious rogues,
were counted in and installed in public office; and that there was a
class of turbulent offenders who had the countenance, if not the support
of judges and officials in high places, and who, therefore, felt
themselves to be above or exempt from the law. Tennyson has well
remarked that there is no lie so baneful as one which is half truth. So
it is in respect to these alleged reasons for the organization of that
Vigilance Committee. It is not true that the Courts were corrupt,
neglectful or remiss. Judge Hager presided in the Fourth District Court,
and his integrity and judicial qualifications, or judgments, have never
been questioned or impeached. Judge Freelon presided as County judge;
the same can be remarked of him. There was no material fault alleged
against the Police Court. It is true, however, that in important
criminal cases, and sometimes in civil suits, the juries were often
packed. But why? I will state: Merchants and business men generally had
great aversion to serve on juries, particularly, in important criminal
cases, which are usually protracted; and the jury were kept in
comparative close condition, because their time was too valuable, and
their business interests required their constant attention. They
preferred, therefore, to pay the fine imposed, in case they were unable
to prevail upon the Judge to excuse them. Jury fees were inconsiderable
in comparison with their daily profits; but it was the loss of time from
their business which mainly actuated them. Yet these fees were
sufficient to pay a day's board and lodging, and to the many who were
out of employment, serving on a jury was the means to both. There is, in
every large community, the class known as professional jurymen--hangers
about the Court, eagerly waiting to be called. There were men of this
kind then; there are more than enough of them still loitering about the
Courts, civil and criminal. San Francisco is not the only city in the
United States in which defendants in grave criminal cases have recourse
to every conceivable and possible means, without scruple, to procure
their own acquittal, or the utmost modification of the penalty, by
proving extenuating circumstances, or that the indictment magnifies the
crimes. This was true of 1856; here, as elsewhere in the land; it is
equally true now. Had the merchants and solid citizens then drawn as
jurors, fulfilled their duty to the cause of justice, to the
conservation and maintenance of law and order, they would have had no
cause or pretence for the organization which they formed. The initial
fault was attributable to themselves; the jury-packing they complained
of was the direct consequence of their own neglect of that essential
duty to the State, in the preservation of law and order; and they cannot
reasonably or justly shift the onus from themselves upon the Courts.

Concerning the frauds in election: yes, there were frauds, outrageous
frauds, at every election; repeaters, bullies, ballot-box stuffing, and
false counts of the ballots to count out this candidate and count in the
one favored of the "boys." More than one member of the Vigilance
Executive Committee had thorough knowledge of all this, for the very
conclusive reason that more than one of them had engaged in these
frauds, had not only participated in them directly and indirectly, but
had actually proposed them; employed the persons who had committed the
frauds, and paid these tools round sums for the infamous service. The
reward of these employers and accessories before, during and after the
frauds, was the office that was coveted; and the "Hon." prefixed to
their names was as the gilt which the watch stuffer applies to the brass
thing he imposes upon the greenhorn as a solid gold watch. Out of the
Committee, of the Executive Committee, the detectives of that body might
have unearthed these honorable and virtuous purifiers and reformers;
with them, perhaps others whose frauds were no less wicked and criminal;
but in business transactions, and not in political affairs. One of the
Executive Committee had served his term of two years in the Ohio State
Prison for forgery; here in San Francisco he had, during two city
elections, been the trusted agent and disburser of a very heavy sack in
the honest endeavor to secure the nomination, and promote the election,
of his principal to high office, yet this pure man was honored by his
associates of the Committee, and became singularly active in pressing
the expatriation of some of the very "ruffians and ballot-box-stuffers"
he had patronized and paid. He had learned that "dead men told no
tales." This pure-character did not stand alone in his experience of
penal servitude, as birds of a feather, and he was under no necessity of
examplifying Lord Dundreary's bird, to go into a corner and flock by
himself. That some turbulent offenders, and largely too many of them,
defied the law, is likewise true. But that they were countenanced or
favored by the Judges, is utterly without truthful foundation. And it is
remarkable that, of all the men hanged or expatriated by the Committee,
only two had ever been complained of or arraigned before the Courts for
any crime of violence; not one of them all had been here accused or
suspected of theft or robbery, or other felony. This is more, as I have
just above stated, than can be said of some of the forty-one members of
the Executive Committee. And among the members of the rank and file of
the five thousand or six thousand enrolled upon the lists of the
Committee--of natives and English-speaking citizens or residents--there
were scores of scoundrels of every degree, bogus gold-dust
operators, swindlers and fugitives from justice. Of the members of other
nationalities--some of whom had not been in the country long enough to
acquire English--I have no occasion to pass remark; but the fear of
communism and disturbance, from the increase of its incendiary votaries
in our country, east and here, cannot be lessened or composed by the
recollection of the conduct of many of the same nationalities who then
swelled the ranks of the Committee troops.




Chapter II.


Saturday Nov. 19, 1855, between 5 and 6 o'clock, the community was
startled by the report that General Richardson, United States Marshal,
had been shot dead by a gambler. The shooting occurred on the south side
of Clay street, about midway between Montgomery and Leidesdorff streets.
The fatal shot was fired from a deringer pistol by Charles Cora. Cora
was a gambler, yet he did not look the character. He was a low-sized,
well-formed man; dressed in genteel manner, without display of jewelry
or loudness; was reserved and quiet in his demeanor; and his manners and
conversation were those of a refined gentleman. I first saw him at the
Blue Wing, a popular rendezvous for politicians, on Montgomery street,
east side, between Clay and Commercial streets, and my impression then
was that he was a lawyer or a well-to-do merchant. General Richardson
was a morose and at times a very disagreeable man. He was of low
stature, thick set, dark complexion, black hair, and usually wore a
bull-dog look. He was known by his intimate friends to be a dangerous
man as a foe, and he always went armed with a pair of deringers. The
Thursday night prior to the shooting General Richardson and Col. Jo. C.
McKibben, afterwards member of Congress, were at the Blue Wing in
company. After midnight Richardson went out for a moment on the
sidewalk. A man passed him, made a jocular remark and entered the
saloon. Richardson followed him in, and asked of Perkins his name. He
had been drinking heavily. McKibben prevailed upon him to start for his
home. It was on Minna street, near Fred Woodworth's, just above Jessie
street. Jo. accompanied him most of the way. Richardson spoke to him of
an "insult" he had received from "that fellow Carter"--as he seemed to
think the name to be--and declared his purpose to make him answer for
it. McKibben knew Cora, and that Cora was the man to whom Richardson
referred; but he likewise knew enough of Richardson to not correct him,
and let him believe that "Carter" was the name, in the hope that, in his
condition, he would either not think of the occurrence the next day, or
would not be able to recognize Cora if he did. The following Saturday
afternoon a party of us--Jo. McKibben, John Monroe, Clerk of Judge
Hoffman's Court, E. V. Joice, Pen. Johnston, Josh Haven and myself were
in the Court Exchange, corner of Battery and Washington streets.
Richardson came in while we were there, and was in drinking humor. He
became sullen and, as we all knew his nature, it was quietly agreed
among ourselves that we would leave and try to get him away. He was
devoted to his wife, whom he married in San Francisco. McKibben and
myself accompanied him on his way home, as far as the old Oriental
Hotel, within a few blocks of his residence. There he insisted on a
"last drink," and we left him--he to go straight home. It turned out
that he did not. He brooded over the "insult" of Carter, as he still
called him, and made his way to the Blue Wing to find him, Unfortunately
he found Cora there. He called him out, and, as one man wilt lead
another by his side, walked with him around the corner into Clay street,
halting just in front of the store of a French firm--I do not remember
the name--and so managed as to put Cora on the iron grating, of the
sidewalk inside, with his back to the brick wall of the store. Cora had
not the slightest idea that Richardson had taken offence at his remark
on Thursday night--for it was in no light offensive or insulting but
simply a bit of ordinary pleasantry, and therefore, he was not aware of
Richardson's object in asking him to come out from the saloon. But many
of Richardson's intimate friends, who felt his death keenly, and were at
that time disposed to the extreme penalty of the law upon the man who
shot him, after due reflection and deliberation came to the conclusion,
that under the circumstances, standing as he was placed before
Richardson, who stood with his hands in his pockets, and a deringer in
each pocket, pressing his demand on Cora, the latter had one of two
things to do: either to kill Richardson or allow Richardson to kill him.

There were not many on Clay street, near the fatal scene, at that hour,
but the discharge of Cora's pistol soon brought several to the spot.
Richardson's body was carried through the side-door entrance on Clay
street, into the drug store then on that corner of Montgomery street,
and there hundreds viewed it. Cora was taken in charge. Dave Scannell
was Sheriff. That excitement over, the feeling increased every hour, and
many urged the summary hanging of Cora. Scannell had duly prepared for
all this, and order was preserved, although several hundred men formed
in line and proceeded to the County Jail to force their way in, seize
Cora and hang him forthwith. Sunday morning the excitement had
diminished in spirit of violence, but had increased in volume and
disposition to bring Cora to justice. Eminent lawyers, the personal
friends of Richardson, had already volunteered to assist in the
prosecution of the man who shot him. The application of Cora's friends
to several of the most noted criminal lawyers in the city, to defend
him, was in many instances declined. Cora had one to his support,
however, who proved more successful in engaging counsel in his behalf.
This was the woman known as Belle Cora, the keeper of a notorious house,
with whom Cora lived. She was rich and possessed of indomitable spirit.
She was devoted to Cora. In this connection I will relate that which
Governor Foote imparted to myself and J. Ross Browne, on a trip to
Oregon, late in the summer of 1857. It was substantially this. Belle
Cora had gone herself to the law office of Colonel E. D. Baker, to
engage him as counsel for Cora, and had succeeded. The fee was to be
$5,000; one-half this sum was immediately paid to him. She then applied
to Governor Foote to engage him to assist in the case: He declined, but
assured her that he should not appear for the prosecution. In a few
days, on account of the intense popular feeling toward Cora, and also
because the law partner of Colonel Baker had strenuously objected to his
acting as counsel for Cora, as it would greatly damage their
professional business the community, Baker and their personal standing
in called upon Governor Foote and requested him to see Belle Cora and
apprise her that she must employ some other counsel; that he felt that
he must withdraw from the case--the $2,500 already paid would be
returned to her. To extricate his professional brother from his
unpleasant situation, Governor Foote consented to undertake the
disagreeable mission. The woman was immovable in her determination to
keep Colonel Baker to his engagement. And she intimated in terms not to
be misunderstood that she was determined that he should fulfill his
obligation. Colonel Baker was a man of dauntless courage in facing dangers
of human quality; but he was in constant fear at sea; and it seems there
was another quality of peril which overmastered his intrepid spirit.
When Governor Foote related to him the result of his mission, he advised
the Colonel to see the woman himself. Colonel Baker did go, Governor
Foote accompanying him. The Governor said he had never witnessed such a
manifestation of a woman's power and irresistible influence. Belle Cora
was inspired to the height of heroism, in her devotion to Cora, her
purpose to secure his acquittal and prevent his sacrifice. She first
appealed, implored, begged Colonel Baker to stand by his engagement. He
making no response, and seeming not to yield, she commanded that he
must, that he should. She would double his fee. She would have him
appear as Cora's counsel, if he did no more than sit in Court with Cora
near him, and speak no word at all. But go in Court and have it known
that he was Cora's counsel, he must. She was inflexible in this. And
when the day of trial came Colonel Baker did appear, together with
General James A. McDougall, Colonel James and Frank Tilford--as counsel
for Charles Cora, and it was on that trial that he made the most
eloquent and extraordinary argument and plea of his life in a criminal
case. It was not a packed jury in Cora's case. Care had been taken to
empanel only good, respectable citizens, some of whom, a short time
afterward, became members of the Vigilance Committee, and in great or
less degree participated in the seizure of Cora from the county jail and
in his condemnation and execution. Three of the jury were prominent
Front street merchants. Notwithstanding all the feeling against Cora,
the popular unrelenting prejudice, and the great preponderance of the
foremost legal minds of the San Francisco Bar, to his prosecution, Alex.
Campbell, General Williams and Colonel Sam. Inge, U. S. District
Attorney, to assist the public prosecutor, the jury disagreed, and of
the jurors who held out against a verdict of guilty of murder were three
Front street merchants and others of equal high standing in the
community. Cora was held for another trial, and it was while awaiting
this that he was seized by the Vigilance Committee, taken to their rooms
and hanged.

The excitement consequent upon the killing of Richardson did not
culminate in the formation of a Vigilance Committee, similar to that of
1851, but it influenced the public mind in that direction. It was the
piling of the combustibles which required only the next spark from the
electric battery to fire the heap to consuming flames. There were still
in the city a round number of the early Vigilance Committee which had
ridden San Francisco of the "Sydney thieves;" some who had also, in
1849, suppressed the "Hounds;" and they were prepared again to meet
violence and lawlessness with the stronger arm of organized force and
the quick, sharp vengeance of the lex talionis.

The occasion soon came. May 14th, 1856, between 4 and 5 o'clock,
afternoon, James P. Casey shot James King of William on Montgomery
street, at the corner of Washington, He fired only one shot. King was
facing Casey as he fired; he immediately staggered and fell. A crowd
gathered in a very few moments. Casey was taken into custody and Sheriff
Scannell hastened him to the county jail in a hack. The excited crowd
followed and clamored for his life; they wanted to hang him at once.
Then followed the organization of the Vigilance Committee, mainly
directed by members of the Committee of '51. An Executive Committee of
forty-one members composed the head and governing branch; a military and
patrol department was organized, duly officered. The rank and file in a
few days numbered between 5,000 and 6,000 men, armed, drilled and
disciplined. The second floor of the Truitt brick block, southeast
corner of Front and Sacramento street, embracing half a dozen stores
below, was made the Committee headquarters. All around in front of the
block, nearly to the middle of the street, gunny bags filled with sand
were piled five feet high, and two pieces of artillery were mounted at
the ends, for offensive and defensive purposes. The name of "Fort Gunny
Bags" was given to it. Guards were constantly on duty inside the fort
and at the two narrow passageways to the doors on the lower floor, from
which the stairs led up to the rooms occupied by the Committee. At the
doors, at the foot of the stairs, midway on the steps, at the top of
each flight, before every door to every room, and in the passages which
led to the different rooms, guards were stationed, with muskets loaded
and bayonets fixed. Fort Gunny Bags was as a garrison in time of active
war. A very large triangle was hung from the roof of the block occupied
by the Committee to sound the signal-call to duty of every member, at
any time of day or night; also a bell contributed from Monumental Fire
Engine Company, whose leader was George Heossafros, (ex-Chief of the
Fire Department). The Executive Committee Court hall and rooms, the
rooms of the officers, the rooms for the guards, and the small, close,
crimped cells for the prisoners, were all upon the second floor--the
upper floor of the block. The entire place was thoroughly guarded.

Casey shot King Wednesday afternoon, May 14th. After the organization of
the Vigilance Committee, a number of prominent citizens who were opposed
to every movement of that kind and believed in due obedience to the law
and in submission to the constituted authorities under every
circumstances, likewise organized under the title of the Law and Order
Association. Impulse was given to the movement by an unlooked-for
incident. The Daily Herald had been for four years annually voted by the
guild of auctioneers the auction advertisements, which filled one whole
page of the paper. John Nugent was owner and editor. He had approved and
upheld the Vigilance Committee of 1851 in the Herald. It was expected
that he would approve the Committee just organized. He adopted the
contrary course. The Herald denounced the Committee in strong terms. The
merchants had generally approved and joined the Committee. That morning
every copy of the Herald was gathered, a pile of the papers made in
Front street, and burned. It was the significant rebuke which the
merchants made; but they did not stop at that--they erased their names
from the carriers' lists. Thousands of other citizens did the same. That
morning the Herald was a sheet of forty columns, with the largest
advertising patronage and largest circulation of any daily newspaper in
San Francisco. The next morning it appeared, a small sheet, not much
larger than a sheet of foolscap, of twenty-four columns. The Herald was
the favorite organ of the Democracy, of the anti-Broderick and Southern
wing of the party, particularly. The especial organ of that wing, the
Times and Transcript, had ceased publication a few months before, and
its patronage went mostly to the Herald. Nugent was opposed to Gwin, the
powerful leader of the anti-Broderick party, more than he was to
Broderick; but this was overlooked by many of Gwin's supporters. The
friends, of General McDougall were his warmest friends and backers, They
now rallied to his support and to the sustenance of the Herald. General
Volney E. Howard, J. Thompson Campbell, Judge R. Augustus Thompson, W.
T. Sherman, the manager of Lucas, Turner & Co.'s banking house here--now
General Sherman--Austin E. Smith, Sam. E. Brooks, Gouverneur
Morris, Hamilton Bowie, Major Richard Roman; and the solid old merchant,
Captain Archibald Ritchie, With hundreds others, stood steadfast by
Nugent, for Law and Order, and against the Committee. J. Neely Johnson
was Governor of the State, and controlled the militia. He was petitioned
by the Law and Order Organization to take action and issue a
proclamation requiring the Vigilance Committee to disband. Governor
Johnson came from Sacramento to San Francisco by steamboat on Friday
night, and was met at the wharf by a deputation of the Law and Order
body. Subsequently, up town, a committee from the Vigilance Committee,
accompanied by Col. Baillie Peyton, met him, and with them he held a
long conference.




Chapter III.


The particular subjects at issue, on each side, were the status of the
Committee, the authority of the Governor to command its disbandment. The
Committee had expressed the desire or the intention to have Casey
committed to their custody, alleging that his escape from the jail was
not unlikely for certain reasons. The Governor at length acceded in
general terms to the propositions of the Committee, and measurably
assured them his support. The Law and Order leaders were amazed,
incensed and disgusted at the weakness of Governor Johnson. He had as
good as surrendered the jail to them, and they had only to go and seize
it, and capture the prisoners. This was known in the city on Saturday,
and the Law and Order body prepared for the expected emergency--the
defence of the jail from the assault of the Committee. Steps were taken
for the defence of the jail by the Law and Order men, who volunteered
for the occasion. The Committee had likewise made preparations.

A digression of amusing nature will not be out of place here: The
steamboats from Sacramento then landed at Pacific street wharf, and
arrived usually about 9:30. The Oakland ferry boat made her last trip
over a few minutes after the Sacramento boat landed her passengers.
Governor Foote had his residence at Clinton. Saturday morning one of his
daughters called at my office and said that her father was at Benicia,
and they expected him home that night. "But," she continued, "you know
what a terrible excitement there is in the city, and how likely father
is to take active part in anything which enlists his sympathies or stirs
his feelings; and we all fear that he will do something imprudent. I
know he will be very strong on the Law and Order side, and it will be
better for us all if he will come directly home and not stay in the city
to get mixed up in these terrible troubles." She requested me,
therefore, to be at the boat that night when she landed, and to prevail
upon her father, if he were otherwise disposed, to take the boat for
Oakland. I promised, and that night I took a hack for the wharf, a
quarter of an hour before the usual time of the boat's arrival. As the
hack turned from Montgomery street into Washington, I noticed a crowd at
the door-way of the Bank Exchange. Calling to the driver to stop a
moment, I entered the saloon. I learned that the boat had already
arrived, a half hour ahead of ordinary time. My disappointment was in a
moment sunk in my surprise. I heard Governor Foote's voice in loud
tones, toward the front of the room. It was a surprise to see him in a
barroom, for he was not addicted to drinking, and except in the Orleans
at Sacramento during the Legislature, when he was candidate for United
States Senator, I had never seen him in a saloon. But that which most
astonished me was the Governor's warmth of approval of the Vigilance
Committee, and his animadversions and regrets in regard to some of his
friends, who had taken active part on the Law and Order side. He stood
the centre figure of the crowd close about him, declaiming with his
accustomed fluency and energy. I left the saloon, dismissed the hack,
and walked to my own quarters, ruminating on the common saying that,
"white man is mighty uncertain." Thence on Governor Foote was a red-hot
"Vigilante."

Sunday morning, May 18th, there were, besides the Sheriff and his
deputies, the officers and guards, a force of 106 Law and Order men,
armed with muskets, inside the County Jail, ready to defend it against
the expected attack of the Vigilance troops. Before noon they came from
every part of the city, several thousand strong. A piece of artillery
was trained in front of the jail entrance, with men to handle it. The
armed force in the jail and upon the wall appeared ready for the
encounter. The Commander of the Committee forces demanded from the
Sheriff the surrender of Casey and Cora. It was refused. There was some
parleying. It ended in the withdrawal of the jail guard, and of the Law
and Order forces also, the admission of the Vigilance officers into the
jail, and the surrender to them of Casey and Cora, who were taken to the
rooms of the Committee, and put in the separate cells prepared for them.
The whole affair occurred within the space of an hour. The State and
City and County authorities had succumbed to the Committee without
resistance, and the law was usurped by the new and self-constituted
power. The Courts were virtually overborne and ignored, if not derided;
and the will of the Vigilance Committee became the supreme law in San
Francisco.

In the County Jail at the time was Rod. Backus, a young man of good
family, cousin of Phil. Backus, an auctioneer of considerable prominence
in mercantile and social circles. Rod. Backus had shot dead a man whose
face he had never seen until the moment before he shot him, a dozen
paces distant. It was in Stout's alley. It was a murder, a wanton
murder, without provocation, excuse, extenuation or palliation whatever.
Rod. Backus was a frequent visitor at a house of the demi-monde in the
alley, and one Jennie French was his favorite. As he came to visit her
one evening, at dusk, she was standing in the doorway, at the head of
the iron stairway which led to the entrance on the second floor. On the
opposite side of the alley, walking slowly toward Jackson street, was a
man of ordinary appearance. As Rod met her on the top platform, Jennie
said to him: "Rod, that fellow has insulted me; shoot the ----." At
the word Backus drew his pistol and fired. The man fell. He had turned
his face the moment Backus fired. It was an instantly fatal shot. Backus
had influential friends among business men and politicians. The Coroner
held an inquest. A jury to hold Backus blameless had been secured, but
they overshot their mark--the thing was too transparent, too
bare-faced. The murdered man was a German much respected by his
countrymen. They determined to press the matter to justice. Backus was
indicted, tried, convicted of murder and sentenced to death. None of
just mind questioned the righteousness. But his case was appealed, and
at last he had his crime reduced in degree, and received sentence of a
short term--three or five years in San Quentin prison. This easy
let-off did not satisfy him; he wanted a verdict of acquittal, and
expected still to get it. Accordingly he again appealed his case, and
while in the County Jail awaiting the action of the Supreme Court upon
his appeal, the Committee had seized and taken away Casey and Cora. He
was not molested; nevertheless, his fear of consequences impelled him to
withdraw his appeal, submit to his sentence, and serve his term at San
Quentin. He even begged to be taken there at once, and he was. The
explanation made by the Committee leaders for not taking Backus was that
the law had already passed judgment in his case, and the Committee was
not disposed to interfere with the judgments of the Courts. The
explanation was puerile and inconsistent with their action in the case
of Cora, who was also in the hands of the Court and was awaiting another
trial. A portion of the jury, among this portion Front street merchants
and other respectable business men, had held him to be not guilty; and
surely this was more than any juror had expressed in the case of Backus.
Moreover, Backus had himself demonstrated his dissatisfaction with the
very mild verdict in his last trial, and was, the same as Cora, awaiting
the issue of another trial. The common belief was that Backus owed his
exemption from the grasp of the Committee and from the dread penalty
which Casey and Cora suffered, not to any doubt as to his guilt, but
solely on account of his relationship and his social standing. He had
been boon companion of many of the young men of the Committee before he
committed the murder in Stout's alley.

Now, as to Casey: he has been described as a ruffian and villain of
irredeemable depravity--desperate to the last degree. James P. Casey
was a young man of bright, intelligent and rather prepossessing face,
neat in his person, inclined to fine clothes, but not flashy or gaudy in
his attire. He was of low stature, slender frame, lithe and compact,
sinewy, nervous, and very agile. His eyes were blue and large, of bold
expression. His voice was full and sonorous. He had served as Assistant
County  Treasurer for two years, handled a large aggregate of money in
that capacity, and his accounts squared to a cent when he handed over
the books to his successor. He was twice Supervisor. His record in that
office will favorably compare with that of any who have succeeded him.
During his lifetime in San Francisco he was never accused of crime;
never suspected of criminal offence. Ballot box stuffing was charged to
his account; also fraudulent counting in elections. Doubtless there was
foundation for each charge. But there were members of the Executive
Committee who had been associated with him in these gross wrongs, and at
least one of them had gained place and profit therefrom; and these
equally or more guilty men voted to hang their former associate in evil
deeds. It may be remarked, further, that in the face of the colossal
frauds of Returning Boards and Canvassing Boards within the last dozen
years, in States South and in the States North, by which the people were
defrauded of their choice for President on two occasions, the offences
of Casey in the comparatively small matter of a municipal election, are
better left unmentioned. Even now, in San Francisco, how many are there
in local office who can with clear conscience declare their innocence of
crookedness or corruption, or fraud in elections? When it comes to
throwing the stone at the staked sinner, conscience palsies the arm of
many who feel disposed to throw it. Casey was once in the city prison
for riotous conduct. At a very hotly contested democratic primary
election, in the early fall of 1855, between the Broderick and Gwin
wings of the party, Casey got into trouble. The polls were on Kearny
near Pine street. Toward the close nearly all on each side who had
participated in the election were in inflamed condition. Casey had gone
to the polling place to ascertain the result. He carried no weapon.
Immediately he was set upon by five of the wing, to which he was
opposed--Bob Cushing, J. W. Bagley, and three others, all armed with either
knife or pistol--two of them with both. Casey did not know fear; he was
game from crown to toe. One ball grazed his forehead on the right side,
another the occiput just behind the left ear, and shot off his hat. His
shiney bald head made that a conspicuous mark, but the range was too
short and the shooters were too excited for accurate aim. Casey had been
taken by surprise, but the slight creasing of the bullets, abrading the
skin and stinging, instantly impelled him to rapid and desperate action.
He rushed upon one of his assailants and wrested a knife from his grasp.
With this he turned upon Cushing, plunged it in his body just above the
lower ribs, and as Cushing was sinking to the ground, he turned the
knife and cut upwards with such power as to cleave the rib the blade
struck against. One of the five had become so nerveless at the sight,
that he dropped his pistol. Casey leaped and secured it. He shot at
Barley and the ball penetrated his breast. As he fell, Casey likewise
secured his pistol. The two others were game, but confused and shot
wildly. The bullets went through Casey's coat and vest, riddling each in
a dozen places; but not one of them did so much as to graze his skin.
The third man had been paralyzed with fright after the first clash.
After emptying their revolvers ineffectually the two others left the
ground; Casey remained the master of it. Not for long, however. A
policeman who had watched the affray from a safe distance then rushed
up, arrested Casey, took him to the City prison, and booked him for
assault with a deadly, weapon. That evening I met Colonel Baillie
Peyton, Colonel Jo. P. Hoge, and Colonel Ed. Beale on Kearny street.
They had been told of the encounter, and expressed the desire to see
Casey to compliment him for his bravery, and congratulate him upon his
miraculous escape. Accordingly we visited the prison and saw Casey, with
his clothes shot to shreds from the left shoulder pit down to his waist,
and no wounds other than the slight creases upon his forehead and
occiput, neither of these so deep as to draw blood. All of us expressed
surprise that the policeman had arrested him--attacked and fighting for
his life in clear self-defence, as he had been--and letting his
assailants go free. Colonel Hoge and Colonel Peyton volunteered to act
as counsel for him in Court; and bidding him go good-night, whit hearty
shake of hands, we all came away. Next morning no one appeared to
prosecute him, and Casey was discharged.

It will serve to state the offence for which Casey was sentenced to
State Prison in New York, before he left for California. He had, the
same as many other young men, taken up with a girl of loose character,
whose chastity had been spoiled by another, and hired and furnished an
apartment for her. The two lived as man and wife--much as too many live
in that same relation, for they quarreled and separated. In his hot
temper one day, he saw her upon the street, and instantly the thought
flashed upon his mind that he would go to her apartment and have the
furniture taken from it. He still kept a key to the door. He hired a
wagon, and carried out his determination. The landlady supposed it to be
all right. He had paid the rent in advance and she was that much the
gainer. He took the furniture to a second-hand furniture dealer, sold it
and kept the money. As he bought it, he felt that it was his to sell. On
the return of the girl, the landlady told her what had occurred. In
taking the furniture, he had also carried away some articles which
belonged to the girl. She hurried to the police Court, made charge
against him, and he was arrested. He made no defence and was convicted.
The sentence was eighteen months in Sing Sing prison. He served his time
and came to California. This was the damning record which James King of
William had threatened to publish in his Bulletin. He did not publish
the facts of the case; but only the fact of the indictment, the
conviction, the sentence and imprisonment. King had been told all this
by a man who had been clerk to the District Attorney, and was cognizant
of all the facts. He was a prominent Broderick man, hated Casey for
having left that wing of the party and joined the other wing, and
adopted this means to blast him in reputation. Casey was morbidly
sensitive on the subject. He had been apprised that King intended to
publish the matter; and early in the afternoon of the day of the
shooting he called upon Mr. King in his office, and warned him to desist
from the publication. King gave no heed to the warning; the matter
appeared in the Bulletin that day. Casey was exasperated to madness. He
armed himself, watched for King on Montgomery street, but he did not
conceal himself. It was King's invariable custom to leave his office in
the small one-story brick building which so long obstructed Merchant
street on the east side of Montgomery, soon after the Bulletin was
issued, walk to the cigar store on the north-west corner of Washington
and Montgomery streets, and thence out Washington street homeward. He
usually wore a talma of coarse fabric, loose and reaching to his hips.
It was sleeveless, concealing his arms and hands. As he came out of the
cigar store, Casey hailed him. The distance between the two was about
forty feet. Casey shouted to him, "Prepare yourself!" and fired. King
tottered and sunk upon the sidewalk. He had frequently made notice in
his paper that any whom he denounced in its columns had the privilege of
adopting their own mode of recourse; stated the route he usually took to
and from his office, and with the significant hint, "God help any one
who attacks me," defied that method of redress. Casey took him at his
word. King was borne to the room in Montgomery block, in which he died a
few days afterward. The ball had penetrated his body from the left side
of his breast, just below the line of the arm pit, and ranging upward
and outward to the back of the left shoulder. The surgeons pronounced it
a dangerous but not a mortal wound. Dr. Beverly R. Cole was
Surgeon-General to the Committee brigade, and a member of the Committee.
Months afterward he declared in a public statement of the case that King
died from the unskillful treatment of the surgeons, and maintained that
with proper treatment he would have recovered. Still it was the wound
which superinduced his death; and Casey had fired the ball which made
it.




Chapter IV.


May 22d, the day of King's funeral, while the immense procession was
passing through Montgomery street, Casey and Cora were hanged. Two
projecting beams had been rigged from the roof of the building on
Sacramento street, occupied by the Committee, for the purpose. Out of
two of the windows of the second story, immediately under these beams
two stout planks, sixteen inches wide, were extended over the street to
an equal distance. At the outer end of each plank, on the under side,
were stout hinges connecting the traps upon which the two men were
placed, with the ropes about their necks, suspended from the beams. Two
other ropes held the traps even with the planks. The two men were led
out upon the traps. Permission was given to them to speak their last
words. Casey availed himself of the privilege and spoke a few minutes in
clear loud voice, in somewhat excited manner, denying his guilt of
murder and vindicating his action. Cora stood all the while as
motionless as a statue. Not a tremor or quiver was perceptible. The
white cap covered his head and face to below the chin. At the conclusion
of Casey's brief speech, the cap was drawn over his face, and as the
hangman pulled it down he whispered in his ear something that made the
doomed man start as if to break the bands which held his arms. In an
instant the signal was given, the traps sprung, by the two men on the
roof cutting the ropes which upheld them, and Casey and Cora were
launched for the death to quickly come. Casey struggled for a few
moments; Cora showed no sign of pain or life. After death the bodies
were cut down, and shortly afterward were delivered to friends who had
provided for their burial. The hangman of Casey was Sterling Hopkins, a
notorious character, with whom Casey once had a difficulty. He had
begged the Committee to officiate in the event of Casey's condemnation
to death by the rope, and the whispered words he hissed in Casey's ear,
as he subsequently boasted, were of exultation over his opportunity of
revenge, and of brutish import respecting the powerless victim, Casey
had been foreman of Crescent Engine Company, No. 10, located on Pacific
street, below Front. Cora's remains were given quiet interment. The
Sunday following the execution Casey was buried. A very large procession
followed his remains to the Mission Dolores Cemetery, in which a
monument was in due time erected to his memory. Upon it is inscribed the
manner of his death.

Governor Johnson had at first played into the hands of the Committee. He
had come down from Sacramento to San Francisco, in the middle of May,
and virtually caused the surrender of the county jail to the Vigilantes,
for the capture of Casey and Cora. At the instance of the leading men of
the Law and Order organization, he subsequently changed his course, and
endeavored to undo that which he had done. It was too late. The
Committee had already become the master of the situation. It was the
supreme power in San Francisco, and it had erected such harmony of
spirit with it in Sacramento, Marysville, Stockton, San Jose and other
interior cities and towns, that it was the paramount local authority and
formidable generally throughout the State. General Wool was at that time
in command of this Federal military department. The Federal Arsenal was
at Benicia. For the want of authority from the Federal government at
Washington, neither the military nor the naval forces could interfere,
and the hands of General Wool, the same of Commodore Farragut, were
practically tied, The only way in which the Federal authority could be
invoked was by due process of constitutional law. This required that the
Governor should convene the Legislature, that that body should call out
the State militia to quell the insurgent or rebellious Vigilantes; and,
these being insufficient for that purpose, then the call for the aid of
the Federal forces would be in order. It would take months to do all
this. Prompt action was the imperative necessity. Governor Johnson did
not act with promptitude. He sent on a committee of citizens to
Washington. President Pierce could do nothing under the circumstances.
He must first be satisfied that the Powers of the State had been
inadequate to overcome the trouble. This had not been done; and it was
of first importance before the strong arm of the Federal authority could
be ordered.

Meantime an incident occurred which helped to fortify the Committee and
to impair the power of the State, in the popular estimation. Upon order
of Governor Johnson, six cases of muskets were delivered to Jas. R.
Maloney, at Benicia arsenal, put aboard the schooner Julia, to be
delivered at San Francisco, to the Law and Order organization. The
Vigilance Committee Executive had been apprised of the transaction, and
adopted means to get possession of the arms. Accordingly, on June 21st,
as the Julia was on her way down from Benicia, she was boarded in San
Francisco Bay by C. E. Rand and John L. Durkee, in the employ of the
Committee, and the two captured the schooner, took possession of the
muskets, and delivered them into the keeping of the Committee. The six
cases contained 113 muskets. Action was brought against Rand and Durkee
for piracy, in the United States Circuit Court, Judge M. Hall McAllister
presiding, and Judge Ogden Hoffman sitting as associate. The trial came
off September, 1856, and on the 23d of that month the jury returned a
verdict of acquittal. Adjutant-General Kibbe, of the State militia,
meantime made unavailing demand upon the Executive Committee for the
arms. They were not returned to the State until after the Committee had
disbanded.

The next who suffered death at the hands of the Committee were
Hetherington and Brace. Hetherington was an Englishman, a man of
considerable wealth. He was six feet stature, of heavy form, strong in
muscular power, equally so in will and purpose; and he was overbearing
in his nature, violent in his passions. He was possessed of valuable
city property. In a difficulty over a lot toward North Beach, a few
years before, he had shot dead Dr. Baldwin, who had located upon it and
claimed it as his own. He was tried and acquitted. Hetherington had had
money transactions with Dr. Randall, formerly Collector of Monterey, and
owner of a large tract of land in Butte County. He had loaned a large
sum of money to Randall, which Randall seemed indisposed to pay. There
was some irregularity in the note or in the mortgage bond. Randall
contended that these were made at the instance of Hetherington himself,
and insisted upon the theory that no man can take advantage of a fault
of his own; that every man was bound to do exactly that to which the law
held him, and equally bound not to do anything to which the law did not
bind him. Consequently, inasmuch as the fault was Hetherington's, he was
therefore absolved from the payment of the note. One afternoon, Dr.
Randall took quarters in the St. Nicholas hotel, on Sansome street, west
side, between Sacramento and Commercial streets, kept by Colonel
Armstrong, and sat in the office room, in conversation with Colonel W.
W. Gift. Hetherington happened in, accosted Randall and abruptly
demanded the payment of the note. Randall responded evasively.
Hetherington's choler rose, and he came upon Randall in threatening
manner. Randall ran behind the office small counter. Hetherington
pursued him, caught him by his long beard, reaching to the middle of his
breast, and threw him upon the floor. As Randall rose, Hetherington drew
his pistol and fired. The shot was instantly fatal. In brief time,
Hetherington was arrested by an officer of the law. A force of vigilance
officers demanded his surrender, took him and hurried him to the
Committee rooms. Through this action the lawful authorities were
forcibly prevented passing upon his case.

Brace was a young man, almost a boy. He had killed a man miles away from
the City, but within the county. I have forgotten the circumstances of
the crime. The Committee had custody of him, however, and condemned him,
as well as Hetherington. Notice was publicly given that the two would be
hanged the afternoon Of July 29th. The gallows was erected on a vacant
half block on Front street, as I remember, between California and
Sacramento streets, west side. It was at least twenty feet high, with a
ladder from the ground to the platform. From the top cross-beam dangled
the ropes. The platform afforded standing space for half a dozen men. A
large crowd had gathered to witness the execution. From a cart on the
California corner, B. B. Redding and myself were onlookers. The
condemned men were brought to the place under strong guard. Each of them
mounted to the scaffold. Brace with quick-step; Hetherington with
composure. The hangman, named Dixon, was dressed in long black gown; a
black hood completely concealed his face; a clergyman, and two or three
of the Vigilance officers or guards followed. A strong guard under arms
was stationed about the foot of the gallows. Permission was given the
two to say anything they wished. Brace broke forth in a loud rant,
profane and obscene, and danced about like one demented. The clergyman
felt obliged to stop his blasphemous harangue by cramming his
handkerchief over his mouth. He broke away, nevertheless, and again
poured forth a tirade, declaring that he was being murdered. At length
he became exhausted and ceased speaking. All this time--and it was
fully five minutes--Hetherington stood composed and with dignified
mien, looking down upon the immense crowd, occasionally glancing at
Bruce, who was to his right, and manifested horror at his ravings. When
Bruce became silent he spoke. His manner was deliberate and his voice
low, clear and firm. He protested against the action of he Committee in
his case; in taking his life they were more guilty of murder than he
was, for it was in violation of the law. He asserted that he had not
committed murder. Then declaring he should die without malice or enmity
toward any, he courteously bowed and indicated to the officers that he
was ready for the ordeal. The nooses were adjusted, the caps drawn over
their heads, the signal given. The hangman cut the rope which held the
traps in place, and down plunged the pinioned bodies of the pair. Bruce
writhed and struggled a few moments; then hung as lifeless until his
body was taken down. He was of medium stature, slight figure and light
in weight. Hetherington's body swayed, but there was no perceptible
motion of his limbs. He met death with placid firmness, without bravado.
Henry H. Haight, his attorney for years, stated that he was one of the
most upright and honorable men in his dealings and general conduct that
he had ever known. These were the last that suffered death by sentence
of the Vigilance Committee.

It is now appropriate to relate some facts in relation to James King of
William. He had been a clerk in a banking house in Washington, and came
to California in the early years of the gold hunting. He established a
bank in San Francisco, corner of Montgomery and Commercial streets,
across from Davidson's. In a year or more Jacob R. Snyder became partner
in the bank; but withdrew after about a year. King afterwards merged his
bank in that of Adams &  Co., of which J. C. Woods was manager. His name
was James King. He had suffixed the "of William" to be distinguished
from others of his name--as John Randolph used to sign himself "of
Roanoke."

Mr. King continued with Adams & Co. as manager of the bank until the
failure of that Company, He then became involved in trouble with the
Company. The bank failed one afternoon. Up to noon that day King had
received deposits. It was known to other banking houses in the city that
the bank would be obliged to close as it did. The word had got out, and
some of the depositors became alarmed, and a number withdrew their
deposits, notwithstanding Mr. King's assurance that the bank was solvent
and solid. Others took his word for it, allowed their deposits to
remain, and lost all they had in the bank. There was some mysterious
handling of the large amount of money known to be in the bank at the
time of the failure. The parties in charge refused to allow Mr. King any
part in their transactions as to the disposition of this money--reported
to be considerably more than $100,000 in gold coin. He demanded
$20,000 as his share. This was refused. He then published a statement
reflecting upon the persons in charge. This was responded to by a
scathing statement, published in the Alta, in which Mr. King was held up
for public condemnation as a dishonest man, guilty of faithlessness and
fraud. He was also accused of having swindled Page, Bacon & Co. of
$400,000, by the sale of bogus gold dust as genuine.

The popular sentiment at the time was that the charges were sustained,
and the feeling was strong against him. He was without means and out of
business. He conceived the project of going into the newspaper business,
of starting a daily evening paper, and obtained a loan of $250 for that
purpose from R. D. Sinton, of the real estate and auctioneer firm of
Selover & Sinton, then the leading firm in that line in the city. He
started the Evening Bulletin, a small sheet, and rented the small brick
building in Merchant street for the publication office. The Daily
Chronicle, published by Frank Soule and William H. Newall, had taken
side against the Committee, and soon afterwards ceased publication.
Employed on it as a writer was James Nesbitt, an Englishman, of superior
journalistic ability. King employed Nesbitt to assist him on the
Bulletin. It was made the medium of attack and animadversion upon State
and county and city officials, and some of its attacks were as
justifiable as are the attacks of the STAR upon rascals in high places
now, while others were actuated by personal spite.

The paper prospered. The multitude enjoyed its sharp, short, stinging
paragraphs; its vim and vehemence. At length its columns were turned
against Major Selover with unrestrained virulence. He had no equal means
of reply or defence at his command, but he had at last uttered threats
of personal nature, and published King as a liar, a swindler and a
coward. To all this Mr. King responded in his Bulletin, by stating in
that paper that he defied Selover; and he went on to state the place of
his residence; the time he left home to go to his office in the morning;
the route thither he usually took: and also the same details of his
customary way home every afternoon. Selover, or any other person who
felt aggrieved on account of anything which appeared in the Bulletin was
similarly apprised, and thus dared or invited to encounter him on the
street. To all of which was added the significant remark for the
consideration of Selover particularly, and all others generally: "God
have mercy upon my assailant." There was no mistaking this language. And
the common opinion was that whatever else would be said of James King of
William, he was a game and fearless man. Casey's own statement of the
deplorable affair--made in his cell to a friend who had been permitted
to visit him in his four by eight feet cell, the day before his death,
in the presence and hearing of the guard then on duty, was substantially
as follows: that after all Mr. King had said in his paper, any one who
attacked him should be well prepared against the worst to himself; that,
accordingly, after he had called early that afternoon upon Mr. King, in
his office, and told him what would be the consequence in case the
Bulletin should publish the matter against him, and it was published, he
very naturally expected that King would be prepared for the encounter.
But as he did not wish to take first advantage of him, but to allow him
fair chance, he cried out to him to prepare, and then fired. He expected
Mr. King to return the fire. He did not know whether the ball had hit
King or not, because King's loose talina covered his upper body and
prevented him from seeing its effect. That--to use Casey's own
words--"seeing he did not fire, and believing him a dung-hill,' I did
not shoot again, but turned to walk away, when I saw him falling; then
I knew that I must have hit him, and I went to the City Hall to surrender
myself."

To the same person, on the occasion first above referred to--and Casey
knew then that his death was certain at the hands of the Committee--he
remarked that he had no fear of death; that he would meet it with
composure, although he did not deserve it; that which troubled him was
that his aged mother should be told that her son was a murderer. This
pained him. She lived in New York. He had regularly remitted money to
her to maintain her in comfort in her old age; and now she must suffer
privation and misery, with the great burden of the knowledge of the
manner of his death to weigh her down to the grave. He wished to say
something of a confidential nature to his visitor, but the guard refused
to permit this, and said that he must hear everything that was uttered.
He stood close to Casey all the time, and maintained the utmost severity
of demeanor, the most inexorable nature, during the brief time allowed
for the visit.




Chapter V.


Casey and Cora were hanged on Thursday, May 22d. On Monday, June 2d, a
meeting of the advocates of Law and Order was held in the Plaza.
Thousands of the Committee members and supporters assembled about the
square. Nothing effective came of it. Governor Johnson had meantime been
prevailed upon by prominent citizens, on the side of Law and Order, to
adopt a course calculated to suppress the Committee. It was too late.
The Law and Order element had organized a military force under the State
militia 1 ws. W. T. Sherman was made General. Governor Johnson issued a
proclamation commanding the State militia to hold themselves in
readiness for duty, and to report to General Sherman. In the city a
force of about three hundred mustered. It was totally inadequate, and
not enough could be expected from the country. In the harbor, in front
of the city, the war-ship John Adams, Commander Bontwell, was anchored.
Commodore Farragut, commandant of this naval station, was at Mare
Island. It was rumored that the Adams would support the authorities in
case of conflict with the Committee. Another rumor was that cannons were
to be placed upon the hills and at points which commanded the city, to
be used if necessary. The excitement continued and increased. A
deputation was sent to Washington, at the instance of the Governor, to
represent the condition of affairs to the President, and prevail upon
him to order the services of the military and naval forces to the
suppression of the Committee and the restoration of law and order. The
deputation took the next steamer and proceeded to the national capital.
President Pierce replied that the federal government had no authority to
interfere until the request came from the State government after the
Legislature had assembled, acted upon the matter, and the State
authorities had exhausted every means to put down the Committee and
failed.

While the excitement was heightened by these rumors and proceedings, an
incident occurred which augmented it to frenzied quality. The armory of
the Law and Order forces was in the capacious brick building, northeast
corner of Dupont and Jackson streets. On Jackson street, near by, a
number of its members and sympathizers were standing in groups. Sterling
Hopkins, the volunteer hangman of Casey, of the Vigilance police, came
up and attempted the arrest of Reub. Maloney, a notorious politician,
whose impudence of speech and reckless ways in partisan devices had made
him an unenviable reputation. His bravery was in his mouth; his mouth
beyond his own control. Judge David S. Terry, then of the State Supreme
Court, interposed to prevent the lawless arrest, and in the struggle he
drew a knife and dangerously wounded Hopkins. In a few minutes word had
reached the Committee headquarters, and the alarm was sounded with
unexampled vigor. The Committee forces, marshalled and led by the
Commander-in-chief, Charles Doane, Major General, marched in quick time
to the scene. Judge Terry had gone to the armory, Maloney and others
with him. The Law and Order troops were less than three hundred strong.
The Vigilance force numbered several thousand. A surrender was demanded.
It would have been folly to resist, and with Terry and Maloney as
prisoners, and the Law and Order troops as prisoners of war, so to say,
the Vigilance forces marched back to their fortified quarters. The
arrest of Judge Terry wrought the excitement to its climax. What would
the Committee do with him? was the question asked by every one. His
residence was temporarily in Sacramento, but Stockton was his home place.
Governor Johnson was devoted to him; David S. Douglass, Secretary of
State, was a bosom friend. Hundreds in the capital city were prepared to
go to any length to rescue him. His thousands of friends in San Joaquin,
everywhere in the San Joaquin Valley, were aroused to the extremity of
desperation. All over the State the feeling for Judge Terry was very
strong. Harm to him would have precipitated a domestic row, which would
have caused immense sacrifice of life, and the destruction of San
Francisco. It would have extended into the interior, and raged there in
bloodshed and devastation. The peaceful way out of the difficulty was
thought the better course, if it could be accomplished. The occasion was
extraordinary, and never contemplated--the exigency beyond immediate
solution. As James Dows, one of the coolest in judgment and wisest in
counsel of the Executive Committee, pertinently described the situation
in the pithy remark, "We started in to hunt cayotes, but we've got a
grizzly bear on our hands, and we don't know what to do with him." The
Executive Committee were not themselves masters of the situation. Behind
them, subject to them and ready to obey their commands on ordinary
occasions, were the 5,000 members of the Committee who carried arms, and
felt themselves superior to even the Executive Committee, if occasion
should happen to test the matter. Of their number nearly one-third were
of foreign nationality, and of these a considerable proportion did not
very well speak English--they were of revolutionary, if not
insurrectionary temper--and had participated in uprisings in their
native land against the government. Many of the native born members were
of similar disposition. It had been resolved by this element of the
Committee, that if Hopkins should die, Terry must hang; and the only
alternative of the Executive Committee would be to order the execution
or spirit him away, at the peril of their own lives. To hang a Justice
of the highest judicial tribunal of the State, was a very serious matter
to contemplate--a most hazardous extremity in any event. If spared from
the fury of their troops, by ordering the execution, their death was
certain at the hands of Judge Terry's avengers. In this quandary, the
Executive Committee were as anxious for a safe way out, without blood or
sacrifice, as any of the friends of Terry. Secretary of State Douglass
came to San Francisco. He persuaded ex-Senator Gwin to interpose on
Terry's behalf. Gwin dispatched Sam. J. Bridges, Appraiser-General, to
Mare Island, to request Commodore Farragut to meet him in San Francisco
on Wednesday, June 25th. On the afternoon of that day, Farragut, Gwin
and two others, on behalf of Law and Order, met four members of the
Executive Committee, in a room on the third floor of the Custom House.
Senator Gwin explained the object of the conference--to secure the
release of Judge Terry. Commodore Farragut then made the proposition:
that he would have a boat sent from the John Adams to a stipulated
landing place on Market street wharf, at midnight; that the Executive
Committee should have Judge Terry escorted to the landing place at that
hour; that the Adams should immediately sail for Mare Island; and that
there he (Commodore Farragut) would exact a promise from Judge Terry,
before he left the vessel, that he would go into the interior of the
State, not visit San Francisco inside of six months, and meantime
neither excite nor encourage any popular feeling against the Vigilance
organization. To this James Dows responded on behalf of the Executive
Committee: that the Committee had already submitted to them a
proposition from Judge Terry himself, to the effect that he would resign
his place upon the Supreme Bench, consent to have the Committee put him
on board the next steamer for Panama, and not return to California
within the succeeding six months. He added that, although this
proposition had been before the Executive Committees twenty hours, no
definite action had yet been agreed upon; the recovery or death of
Hopkins was the paramount factor in the case, because of the intense
feeling against Terry among the larger proportion of the Committee
troops. At this juncture, J. D. Farwell, also one of the Executive
Committee, spoke. He was voluble and vehement. He said that the
Vigilance organization acknowledged no authority to be superior to
itself. "We have," he continued in loud tone and gasconading temper,
"proved ourselves the superiors of the City and County, government, and
of the State government; and if the Federal government dares"--He got
no further. Commodore Farragut sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing
fire, as electric sparks in brilliancy; his face betokening his fierce
indignation; his whole frame seeming a prodigy of the grandeur of human
passion highest wrought--the incarnation of the noblest majesty and
sublimest patriotism. "Stop, sir!" he thundered--Farwell had stopped
and sunk into his seat. And then the heroic Commodore went on to declare
what the duty of a citizen was; that which he should do, if occasion
required; and closed his less than five minutes burst of withering
rebuke and eloquent counsel with an impressive appeal to the other
members of the Committee present. The folly and rashness of Farwell had
thwarted the wise intentions of the parties who invited the conference.
It ended with Commodore Farragut's thrilling words. In a week or more
Hopkins was considered past danger from his wound, and Judge Terry was
thereupon set free. The Committee had now accomplished about all that
had been contemplated at its organization. It had put to death four men.
Of these at least two were not guilty of murder, as the law defines that
crime. As to the other two, the course of justice in the Courts at that
time gave no warrant for the presumption or belief that a fair and just
trial would not have, been given them; that their conviction and the
death penalty would not have followed. It is not too much to assert
that, so far as escape from the penalty of murder is involved, there has
been, any time these ten years, and there is now, in San Francisco,
stronger cause for a Vigilance Committee than there was in 1856. The
administration of the law was better then in general criminal procedure
than it is now. There were fewer heinous crimes then, in the ratio of
population, then the record of any year for the past ten years will
show. In the category of crimes, such as forgery, perjury, embezzlement,
frauds by which large sums of money or valuable property is obtained,
were then infrequent; now of daily occurrence. But in crimes of violence
the record is enormously against this period in comparison with that;
the infliction of penalties by the Courts was then more certain than it
is now. And as to ballot-box stuffing and frauds in elections, surely
the worst ever charged against the manipulators of that period, pales
and sinks into insignificance when compared with the colossal fraud
committed in San Francisco, in 1876, by which not only the will of the
people of the State was overborne, but also the will of the people of
the United States. Yet the perpetrators of the unparalleled fraud have
never been called to account or punished; to the contrary they are
recognized as gentlemen of respectability, even by those who, in 1856,
forcibly and lawlessly, as Vigilance Committee members, banishement for
stuffing ballot-boxes to secure merely a local advantage by the success
of a ward ticket. Straining at a gnat and swallowing a camel never had
more conspicuous illustration. And the burning fact remains incredible
that among the members of the Executive Committee were some who had
themselves obtained office by bribery and corruption, by calling into
play the stuffing of ballot-boxes, and by all the wicked and infamous
means which were at that time practiced. Another member was, as I have
stated before, a felon who had served his time in the Ohio State Prison;
another, still living and a highly respectable church member who
professes holy horror of fraud, had in early years colluded with his
brother to get possession of valuable wharf property, of which the
brother was agent and care-taker by appointment of the owner, who had
returned to his home in the East, to be gone a year. The scheme of these
brothers was a fraud of villainous conception, but it was clumsy and
therefore failed. On his return the Courts restored the property to the
rightful owner. I might go on and point out other members of the
Executive Committee who had committed deeds which, had they been duly
brought to answer in the Courts, would have put upon them the felon's
brand and the convict's stripes, in some instances; in others, pilloried
them as rogues and swindlers, unworthy of trust, unfit for respectable
association.

But were one to trace the career of several others of that body, the
tracks would be through the sloughs and conduits of shame and turpitude,
rascality and crime, and finally to self-murder. It was as bad--it
could hardly have been worse, except in numbers, proportioned to the
greater numerical force--in the Vigilance rank and file. It is against
reason and sense to expect that in a body of five thousand men, there
will be none who are not good and honorable; that there will be no base
and disreputable characters, no rogues and scoundrels. Therefore it was
not strange that of the Committee's entire force, so many were of the
vile stamp, notorious gold-dust "operators," who robbed the honest miner
of his "Pile," by bare-faced fraud; mock auction sharpers, high-toned
frauds and swindlers of low degree; and others who neither toiled nor
spun, yet feasted and fattened. All these found in the ranks of the
Committee their own security from the incarceration and banishment
enforced in the case of so many less culpable than themselves. But the
onus rests upon the Executive Committee--they constituted the head and
front of the grave offending of the very laws they usurped; they were
the counselors and administrators, the accusers and arbiters, of the
fate of their powerless victims. Their's was a tribunal organized to
convict--they were the prosecutors, the jurors, the judges, from whose
fiat of condemnation there was no appeal; and defense was not allowed.
Arrest meant death or banishment. The accused were prosecuted by the
promoter or participant with them in the charged offence or crime, and
convicted by the verdict in which some who had been accessories were
most strenuous for conviction. It is a rule of law that the accuser
shall come into Court with clean hands.

Ignoring this just rule and in defiance of law, in usurping the seat of
justice, the Executive Committee gave opportunity to several of its
members to "compound for sins they were inclined to, by damning those
who had no mind to;" to sit in judgment on those whose testimony or
confession in a Court of Justice would have turned the tables and
wrought the conviction of their accusers, prosecutors and judges. But
these strictures do not apply to the greater number of the Executive
Committee--to only about a half dozen of its members. The Committee was
composed mainly of honorable men, deservedly high in the community, in
every walk and relation of life. They doubtless acted from a
conscientious sense of duty, and neither intended usurpation of the law,
violence to justice, nor any wrong whatever. They believed it incumbent
upon them to reform what they regarded as the maladministration of
public affairs, and to cleanse the city of the corruption which
existed--as it has existed and always will exist in populous communities,
agreeably to the sentiment of Jefferson, that "cities are scabs upon the
body politic." And with the best of motives they believed that the
organization of the Vigilance committee was the better and surer
remedial agent to these wholesome and commendable purposes. But their
action was akin to that of the thousands of citizens who refrain from
voting at primary elections, where the seed is planted which will
produce its kind in the fruiting on the day of the final and determining
election, and subsequently complain of the incompetency or dishonesty of
the incumbents whose election is largely attributable to the neglect of
these very citizens, to make it their special care that only good and
qualified and worthy men shall be elected at the primaries.

I shall now pass to the conduct of the Executive Committee in their
arrests, their domiciling visits, and their enforced banishments. Among
their victims in the category, banished from the State with the penalty
of death if they returned to it, were Charles P. Duane, Billy Mulligan,
Billy Carr, Reub. Maloney, Bill Lewis, Martin Gallagher, Woolley
Kearney, Yankee Sullivan the pugilist, and John Crowe. These, with the
exception of Charley Duane, were all Democrats, devoted to Broderick.
Duane had been a Whig, was opposed to the Democrats, yet felt kindly
toward Broderick. On the other side--they could not be called
Republicans, but were always against the Democrats, and had at last
affiliated with the Know-Nothings--were men as notorious as any named
above, and of really worse character; but not one of these did the
Committee molest. They were either received into its military ranks or
were permitted to remain in the city. It was a noticeable
discrimination; no reason for it was apparent or expressed on the part
of the Executive Committee.

Charley Duane was a man of extraordinary character in his line of life.
He had made reputation as a "handy man in a fight" and a very hard one
to master before he came of age, in New York. He came to San Francisco
early in 1850, in company with Tom Hyer, the champion prize-fighter. He
had got the sobriquet of "Dutch Charley" in New York, notwithstanding
his Irish blood. Hyer euphonized this into "German Charles." Hyer
returned to New York, Duane remained here. He was a zealous, very active
Whig, an equally zealous and active fireman; and was once elected Chief
Engineer of the Department, against George Hossefross. Subsequently he
was appointed one of the Sheriff's deputies. He had killed a Frenchman
in a difficulty, was tried for the deed and acquitted. No charge of
dishonest nature--theft, fraud, swindling, embezzlement, or anything of
the kind, was ever brought against him. But he was somewhat prone to
fight, and this was the worst that could be charged upon him. I am not
aware that he was ever accused of crookedness in elections except in his
zeal to secure the election of Delos Lake, Whig, as District Judge, in
1851. When the Vigilance Committee was organized, in 1856, he openly and
boldly denounced it, and was an ardent supporter of the Law and Order
side. On what charge he was arrested and banished I have never been able
to ascertain. The manner of his arrest added no laurels to the parties
who conspired to effect it and the participants in the arrest. It bore
the tokens of jealousy and spite sprung from his election years before
as Chief Engineer, more than of any present cause. He was entrapped,
seized, hauled to the committee cells and banished, nevertheless.

Billy Mulligan was the incarnation of fearlessness, fight and
frolic--dangerous frolic it was sometimes to any he did not like. Of low
stature, slight frame, active as a cat, the expression of a
bull-terrier, and as, quick to an, encounter, Mulligan was not a man to
pick a quarrel with--the other party invariably second best. He had
served under Colonel Jack Hays in his troop of Texan Rangers, and
Colonel Hays gave the praise that he was one of the bravest, pluckiest,
most daring and desperate fighters he had ever had in his command. Billy
had his full share of the vices of drinking, gambling, fighting and a
fast life. He was active in politics and "went in to win." But he had
the virtue not to lie; and he would not betray any confidence reposed in
him, turn faithless to any promise he made. He was bold, frank, manly,
magnanimous except towards those he despised as well as hated, and to
these he was implacable and merciless. The world's wealth couldn't
seduce or bribe him from the support of the men he liked, no matter how
poor they might be; and he would on every occasion interpose to protect
the helpless and defenseless from the violence or maltreatment of
others. Crime of any degree was never alleged to his account. He had
faithfully served as collector of moneys for the County Treasurer two
years, and fully accounted for every dollar that he received. Beyond his
fighting bouts and his conduct in elections--about the same as prevails
now--there was nothing to warrant his arrest and banishment. But the
terrors of Fort Gunny Bags did not intimidate Mulligan. One of the
committee remarked to me, on the occasion of his death by the rifle shot
of a policeman while he was wild with delirium tremens, that he was the
only prisoner ever put in the committee cells who did not "weaken." He
was a character the community could well spare; but he had given the
committee no offence to justify his banishment.

Yankee Sullivan's character is notorious. He was a professional
prize-fighter--ready to try conclusions in the fistic ring with any in
the world; but he feared a pistol or a knife as an ordinary man would
fear a blow from his powerful arm. He had helped Mulligan and Casey in
some of their election operations, and for that he was arrested. There
was no charge of any other nature than this and his fighting quality to
warrant his arrest. His courage or spirit broke down while confined in
the close cell, and one morning his lifeless body was found stiff in the
cell. He had opened a vein in his arm and bled to death. The rumor at
the time was--and it is still believed--that he was driven to the deed
by the remark made by one of the Vigilance guards outside the cell, but
spoken in tone calculated for Sullivan to hear it, that he was to be
hanged the next morning. To escape the ignominy of such a death, he
anticipated it by his own hand.

Martin Gallagher and Billy Carr were boatmen, and active in party
manipulations in the interest of Mr. Broderick in the First Ward. They
were tough men to handle in a fight, and usually forced their own way in
anything they undertook. With Mulligan they often sat as delegates in
city, county and State conventions of the Democracy--together with
several other of their associates and kind, who are still more or less
prominent in city politics--some of them Democrats, some Republicans.
Bill Lewis was sent out of the country none too soon. He was a great,
powerful, terrorizing fellow, desperate and unscrupulous, and one to
beware of. He took active part in politics, and was terrible in a
"scrimmage. Of his redeeming, traits I never obtained information.
Doubtless he had some. Unlest it was on account of Woolley Kearney's
facial configuration, I have never been able to divine why the Committee
banished him. He was the homeliest, ugliess looking mortal I ever saw.
Had the Committee compelled him to go as the Veiled Prophet, with a
gunny sack instead of silver veil, there would have been at least the
essence of justice in their action. His battered, flattened, twisted,
gnarled nose, was at every point of the compass, and more hideous at
every turn. Why he didn't blow it off when he blowed it, blow'd if any
could conjecture. His eyes were squinted, his mouth a monstrous
curiosity. Every feature seemed in revolt at that nose. It would have
struck awe to the spirit of an Ogre, Woolley was no doubt ready and
willing to do any crooked deed, but none who knew him would employ him
on any mission in which skill and fidelity were required. His banishment
had, perhaps, a good effect upon the unborn generation, whose parents
had not then entered the matrimonial state. Whatever other purpose it
subserved, except to show to other communities the "latest novelty" from
California, is the unfathomable conundrum. John Crowe was a noisy,
blatant, meddlesome fellow, the keeper of a livery stable on Kearny
street, and a fierce denouncer of the Committee. There was nothing else
to his discredit, so far as I could learn at the time. Reub. Maloney was
a compound character--a good deal of a knave, something of the man in
his fidelity to his friends, reckless of everything except his own
safety in any transaction calculated to damage the cause to which he was
opposed; indifferent to what might happen to an adversary, He was a most
valiant "brave"--with his mouth; the noble quality had never penetrated
his cuticle. His passion when bloviating was furious and terrible to
look upon; but there was nothing to it more than sound and pretense. His
face would redden to congestive hue, his voice swell to sonorous volume;
but the simple kindly invitation in quiet tone: "Never mind, Reub, come
and take a drink," would unbind him in a moment, and coming up relaxed,
smiling to "smile," he would gulf down the dram, and with stated manner
remark, "Well, boys, I said about the right thing, didn't I?" He was the
faithful henchman of General James A. McDougall; hated Senator Gwin, and
between the two preferred Broderick.

Maloney had been a drummer for a large importing house in New York, his
field of labor in the South. He had also been employed in the western
states, and endowed with good address, portly figure, much volubility,
unfailing check and invincible assurance, he successfully pushed his
way. He came to California during the fall of '47, located in Stockton,
subsequently in San Francisco, and took up "Politics" as his means of
support. To gain his point in a partisan deal, he would do anything that
was not personally dangerous. He cared for ends, and was utterly
regardless of means. He was ceaselessly putting up jobs to promote the
cause he advocated, and to break down that of the antagonists. With the
courage of Babadil he had the honesty of Ancient Pistol, the habits of
Falstaff, and the temptations of Anthony would have been to him as
pastures green to the hungering herd. Poor old Reub, his incarceration
in the Vigilance cells nearly frightened the life out of him, and his
release even under banishment, was as the open door to the caged wild
bird. He never did much harm to any cause or party that he opposed. The
Committee would have better spared him and exiled many who were
worse--some from their own ranks.




Chapter VII.


The last in the list is Edward McGowan--"Old Ned"--Chief of Police,
Judge, Emigration Commissioner, politician, fugitive, "ubiquitous"
soldier, retired sporting man, and still in life, nearly eighty years of
age, clear in all his faculties. He was a devoted, trusted confidential
friend of Broderick, and unpurchaseable in his friendship. He had been a
prominent actor in many hard contests in behalf of Broderick, and aided
materially in the successes which elevated that extraordinary man to the
Senate of the United States. McGowan was a warm friend to Casey--his
adviser on many occasions. He received intimation the night of Casey's
arrest, that his own was contemplated. He was not seen again in San
Francisco until his return to the State a year or more afterward, to
surrender himself and demand trial upon whatever charge the Committee,
or any, could prefer against him. His acquittal was the consequence.

Never was fugitive more assiduously and desperately hunted than he.
Domiciliary visits, the intrusion of the Vigilance police into the homes
of citizens, of every house and room in which it was suspected McGowan
would be caught. Every friend of his was shadowed to get a clew to his
place of concealment. Yet he was for weeks securely hidden within five
miles of the city. Thence he made his escape to Santa Barbara, through
the aid of true and sagacious friends; was sheltered and protected there
by another--Jack Powers, one of the Stevenson's regiment, a fearless,
dare-devil, desperate, wily man, accustomed to wild adventures, and
hair-breadth escapes, whose own many exploits, including pursuit and
search, will some day find publication, to rival the most interesting
and exciting narratives of frontier life, and the daring and heroism of
the men bred to such life. Jack Powers had on several occasions escaped
the capture and death his Mexican pursuers had deemed inevitable. His
ingenuity now came to do service on behalf of his friend McGowan. Chief
of Police Curtis had got word that McGowan was in Santa Barbara. He was
a zealous, Vigilance man. A schooner was chartered, and a strong, armed
force sailed on her for Santa Barbara, to capture the fugitive. They
landed, searched everywhere, particularly the house, premises and
surroundings of Jack Powers' residence. Powers and McGowan both well
knew that catching meant hanging beyond all hope. After a thorough quest
Curtis and his armed band gave up the hunt and returned to San
Francisco. At Powers' home they had searched every place except that in
which McGowan was concealed. They had been within a toot of him; had
nearly stepped on him; were so close that he heard their whisperings and
cursings. But they never suspected his hiding place. He was simply
rolled in a great mass of old floor matting, at one side of the house,
which was covered with dust and leaves, and bits of straw, to give it
the appearance of having been there, just as it seemed, for months.
After the schooner sailed, McGowan succeeded in making his way out of
the State and safe from the Vigilance Committee by the cunning and
adroitness of his good friend Jack Powers. The Committee were foiled in
their endeavor to capture the man, of all others, they were the most
eager to catch and hang. There would have been short invoking of trial
in his case and a hurried death by the rope. McGowan lives to relate his
adventures and enjoy the narrative.

To give some idea of the manner of procedure and the discipline of the
Committee, I will relate an experience of my own: One beautiful
moonlight evening I was visiting the family of a prominent member of the
San Francisco Bar. About nine o'clock the door bell was rung. Thinking
that some friend of the family was at the door, the mistress of the
house went herself to see who was there. In the doorway stood a strange
man. He asked--mentioning my name--if I was in. She called to me and I
went to the door. He requested me to accompany him to the rooms, of the
Committee. I wished to know for what purpose, and at whose instance he
came. He said he could not tell; he was ordered to request my attendance
at once, and could say no more. I got my overcoat and went with him. On
the way down he informed me of the diligent hunt he had made to find
me--mentioning half a dozen families whom I frequently visited. At last we
reached Fort Gunny Bags. He led the way to the Front street door, in the
rear of the building. Two rows of guards with muskets, had position from
the curb-stone to the door-way. He gave the password to these and we
passed through. At the door were other guards--the same giving of
pass-word there. We mounted the narrow stairs--my escort in advance.
Midway on the stairs were two guards--one of them Dr. Rabe, with whom I
had been intimate since 1850. Again the pass-word. And again at the head
of the stairs to the four guards there. My escort opened the door of a
medium-sized room, which fronted on the street, and requested me to be
seated. He left me alone in the room. For an hour I had the room to
myself. Then the door was opened, and I saw David C. Broderick over the
head of the person who had evidently escorted him, and requested him to
be seated. Broderick entered, and the door was closed, and locked from
the outside. We had no more than shaken hands and mutually wondered what
we were wanted for, when the key was turned, the door again opened, and
in came tall Jo. McKibben, taller even than Broderick. As he entered,
the door was again locked on the outside. The situation was too amusing,
and we all laughed over it. But why were we there? On relating the
manner of the "request" and escort, each had been served in similar
manner--neither could conjecture the purpose in having us there. No
other person was let in until about an hour. "Old Jim" Dows, as he was
familiarly called, came to see us. We had known each other for years. He
appeared surprised to see us, and McKibben and myself exchanged some
pleasantries with him. I said to him, at last, that I wished the
Executive Committee would hasten whatever business they had in my case
and let me go, as I was eager to return to the house I had been
visiting. He said he would and in ten minutes returned to apprise me
that I could go right then if I wished. He accompanied me to the head of
the stairs, and in loud voice ordered the guards to let me pass out--that
it was "all right." With this he passed into the hall. The guard at
the head of the stairs duly let me pass. At the middle of the stairs Dr.
Rabe, who so well knew me, and must have heard Dows' order, demanded the
pass-word, and refused to allow me to proceed. I said, "Why, Doctor, I
don't know the pass-word, and you heard Jim. Dows' order to let me pass
out." The guard at the head of the stairs cried out to him, "it was all
right," and I was then allowed to pass down. But at the foot of the
stairs the guard made similar demand, and again the word had to be
shouted from above, that I was to be allowed to pass out. One of the
guards then took my arm, escorted me through the file of outside guards,
into the street, and I was, finally, "all right." But I felt curious in
regard to Broderick and McKibben, The next day Dows told me we had all
been wanted as witnesses on behalf of one of the prisoners in the
custody of the Committee, but that he had got me excused. From Broderick
I subsequently learned that he had given his testimony and had then come
away. Also had McKibbon.

Rumors had been circulated that Broderick was to be arrested by the
Committee. Whether true or false, I never learned, At all events he soon
left San Francisco and made a tour of the mountain counties, to promote
his canvass for the Senatorship, which he achieved the following year.
His devoted friends were all violently opposed to the Committee, and any
harm to him, by that body, would have been the occasion of very serious
trouble.

Colonel E. D. Baker had defended Charles Cora, at his trial, as I have
related. He was positive and unreserved in his denunciation of the
Committee. Whether he was ever threatened with arrest I do not know; but
he likewise left the city and went into the interior Northern Counties
and there practiced his profession until September, when he entered into
the Presidential campaign as chief orator of the Republican party, for
Fremont, and in November returned to his practice in San Francisco.

The Vigilance Committee disbanded their military forces late in August.
The Executive Committee held to them for future emergencies, but ceased
their meetings. Fort Gunny Bags was dismantled. The rooms were
abandoned; but as a closing scene, a grand review of the military was
held near South Park, and the rooms were thrown open to the public.
Thousands, ladies and gentlemen and children went there, and looked at
the stuffed ballot-box, at the nooses and ropes used in the hanging of
Casey and Cora, of Hetherington and Brace, at the shackles and gyves, at
all the other instruments and paraphernalia of the gallows and the
cells, into the narrow cells and their scant furniture, and at all the
ghastly curios of these haunted rooms of life and death, of mental
torture and bodily suffering, of forced suicide and the mocking of the
crazed victim of his own despair and desperation. It was a remarkable
sight for women, an astounding treat to ladies, and such an example to
children, boys and girls! But comment is not required.

The city and county election was soon to follow. The Committee men did
not neglect the opportunity which their powerful organization had given
them. The Executive Committee became practically a self-constituted
nominating convention. Their rank and file were not forgotten. General
Doane was nominated for Sheriff. For every other office Vigilance men
were named the candidates. None others had chance or hope. Their ticket
was elected. They obtained the reward of their services in the
organization, and profited accordingly. Thirty-one years have now passed
since the existence of the Committee. Many of its executive members are
numbered with the dead. Some of them passed away in a manner to remain
as an enduring sorrow to their kindred and connexions. A few have
prospered and occupy high places in community. A very few enjoy office
bestowed by the party they aided so much to destroy in 1856. On the
monument erected over the ashes of Casey is the scriptural admonition
for all mankind. "Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord, and I will repay."
Retribution is with God alone. The generation of this period will best
subserve the good of community by conformity to the divine injunction.
And this would never have been written were it not for the many and
frequent ex parte, and incorrect publications, which have been put forth
as faithful and impartial accounts of the Vigilance Committee of 1856,
of the character of those who suffered death and banishment at its
hands, and of the causes which led to its organization. The task is
done. May another similar to it never be required. The law of the land
should suffice for every exigency. It sets no bad or dangerous example,
but is always the conservator of the public welfare, the best protector
of all, the voice of the people in accordance with the laws of God.










End of Project Gutenberg's The Vigilance Committee of '56, by James O'Meara