Memoirs of General William T. Sherman — Complete
settled down to the publication of an evening paper, called the
Bulletin, and, being a man of fine manners and address, he at once
constituted himself the champion of society against the public and
private characters whom he saw fit to arraign.
As might have been expected, this soon brought him into the usual
newspaper war with other editors, and especially with Casey, and
epithets a la "Eatanswill" were soon bandying back and forth
between them. One evening of May, 1856, King published, in the
Bulletin, copies of papers procured from New York, to show that
Casey had once been sentenced to the State penitentiary at Sing
Sing. Casey took mortal offense, and called at the Bulletin
office, on the corner of Montgomery and Merchant Streets, where he
found King, and violent words passed between them, resulting in
Casey giving King notice that he would shoot him on sight. King
remained in his office till about 5 or 6 p.m., when he started
toward his home on Stockton Street, and, as he neared the corner of
Washington, Casey approached him from the opposite direction,
called to him, and began firing. King had on a short cloak, and in
his breast-pocket a small pistol, which he did not use. One of
Casey's shots struck him high up in the breast, from which he
reeled, was caught by some passing friend, and carried into the
express-office on the corner, where he was laid on the counter; and
a surgeon sent for. Casey escaped up Washington Street, went to
the City Hall, and delivered himself to the sheriff (Scannell), who
conveyed him to jail and locked him in a cell. Meantime, the news
spread like wildfire, and all the city was in commotion, for grog
was very popular. Nisbet, who boarded with us on Harrison Street,
had been delayed at the bank later than usual, so that he happened
to be near at the time, and, when he came out to dinner, he brought
me the news of this affair, and said that there was every
appearance of a riot down-town that night. This occurred toward
the evening of May 14, 1856.
It so happened that, on the urgent solicitation of Van Winkle and
of Governor Johnson; I had only a few days before agreed to accept
the commission of major-general of the Second Division of Militia,
embracing San Francisco. I had received the commission, but
had not as yet formally accepted it, or even put myself in
communication with the volunteer companies of the city. Of these,
at that moment of time, there was a company of artillery with four
guns, commanded by a Captain Johns, formerly of the army, and two
or three uniformed companies of infantry. After dinner I went down
town to see what was going on; found that King had been removed to
a room in the Metropolitan Block; that his life was in great peril;
that Casey was safe in jail, and the sheriff had called to his
assistance a posse of the city police, some citizens, and one of
the militia companies. The people were gathered in groups on the
streets, and the words "Vigilance Committee" were freely spoken,
but I saw no signs of immediate violence. The next morning, I
again went to the jail, and found all things quiet, but the militia
had withdrawn. I then went to the City Hall, saw the mayor, Van
Ness, and some of the city officials, agreed to do what I could to
maintain order with such militia as were on hand, and then formally
accepted the commission, and took the "oath."
In 1851 (when I was not in California) there had been a Vigilance
Committee, and it was understood that its organization still
existed. All the newspapers took ground in favor of the Vigilance
Committee, except the Herald (John Nugent, editor), and nearly all
the best people favored that means of redress. I could see they
were organizing, hiring rendezvous, collecting arms, etc., without
concealment. It was soon manifest that the companies of volunteers
would go with the "committee," and that the public authorities
could not rely on them for aid or defense. Still, there were a
good many citizens who contended that, if the civil authorities
were properly sustained by the people at large, they could and
would execute the law. But the papers inflamed the public mind,
and the controversy spread to the country. About the third day
after the shooting of King, Governor Johnson telegraphed me that he
would be down in the evening boat, and asked me to meet him on
arrival for consultation. I got C. H. Garrison to go with me, and
we met the Governor and his brother on the wharf, and walked up to
the International Hotel on Jackson Street, above Montgomery. We
discussed the state of affairs fully; and Johnson, on learning that
his particular friend, William T. Coleman, was the president of the
Vigilance Committee, proposed to go and see him. En route we
stopped at King's room, ascertained that he was slowly sinking, and
could not live long; and then near midnight we walked to the
Turnverein Hall, where the committee was known to be sitting in
consultation. This hall was on Bush Street, at about the
intersection of Stockton. It was all lighted up within, but the
door was locked. The Governor knocked at the door, and on inquiry
from inside "Who's there?"--gave his name. After some delay we
were admitted into a sort of vestibule, beyond which was a large
hall, and we could hear the suppressed voices of a multitude. We
were shown into a bar-room to the right, when the Governor asked to
see Coleman. The man left us, went into the main hall, and soon
returned with Coleman, who was pale and agitated. After shaking
hands all round, the Governor said, "Coleman, what the devil is the
matter here?" Coleman said, "Governor, it is time this shooting on
our streets should stop." The Governor replied, "I agree with you
perfectly, and have come down, from Sacramento to assist." Coleman
rejoined that "the people were tired of it, and had no faith in the
officers of the law." A general conversation then followed, in
which it was admitted that King would die, and that Casey must be
executed; but the manner of execution was the thing to be settled,
Coleman contending that the people would do it without trusting the
courts or the sheriff. It so happened that at that time Judge
Norton was on the bench of the court having jurisdiction, and he
was universally recognized as an able and upright man, whom no one
could or did mistrust; and it also happened that a grand-jury was
then in session. Johnson argued that the time had passed in
California for mobs and vigilance committees, and said if Coleman
and associates would use their influence to support the law, he
(the Governor) would undertake that, as soon as King died, the
grand-jury should indict, that Judge Norton would try the murderer,
and the whole proceeding should be as speedy as decency would
allow. Then Coleman said "the people had no confidence in
Scannell, the sheriff," who was, he said, in collusion with the
rowdy element of San Francisco. Johnson then offered to be
personally responsible that Casey should be safely guarded, and
should be forthcoming for trial and execution at the proper time.
I remember very well Johnson's assertion that he had no right to
make these stipulations, and maybe no power to fulfill them; but he
did it to save the city and state from the disgrace of a mob.
Coleman disclaimed that the vigilance organization was a "mob,"
admitted that the proposition of the Governor was fair, and all he
or any one should ask; and added, if we would wait awhile, he would
submit it to the council, and bring back an answer.
We waited nearly an hour, and could hear the hum of voices
in the hall, but no words, when Coleman came back, accompanied by a
committee, of which I think the two brothers Arrington, Thomas
Smiley the auctioneer, Seymour, Truett, and others, were members.
The whole conversation was gone over again, and the Governor's
proposition was positively agreed to, with this further condition,
that the Vigilance Committee should send into the jail a small
force of their own men, to make certain that Casey should not be
carried off or allowed to escape.
The Governor, his brother William, Garrison, and I, then went up to
the jail, where we found the sheriff and his posse comitatus of
police and citizens. These were styled the "Law-and-Order party,"
and some of them took offense that the Governor should have held
communication with the "damned rebels," and several of them left
the jail; but the sheriff seemed to agree with the Governor that
what he had done was right and best; and, while we were there, some
eight or ten armed men arrived from the Vigilance Committee, and
were received by the sheriff (Scannell) as a part of his regular
posse.
The Governor then, near daylight, went to his hotel, and I to my
house for a short sleep. Next day I was at the bank, as usual,
when, about noon the Governor called, and asked me to walk with him
down-street He said he had just received a message from the
Vigilance Committee to the effect that they were not bound by
Coleman's promise not to do any thing till the regular trial by
jury should be had, etc. He was with reason furious, and asked me
to go with him to Truett's store, over which the Executive
Committee was said to be in session. We were admitted to a
front-room up-stairs, and heard voices in the back-room. The
Governor inquired for Coleman, but he was not forthcoming. Another
of the committee, Seymour, met us, denied in toto the promise of
the night before, and the Governor openly accused him of treachery
and falsehood.
The quarrel became public, and the newspapers took it up, both
parties turning on the Governor; one, the Vigilantes, denying the
promise made by Coleman, their president; and the other, the
"Law-and-Order party," refusing any farther assistance, because
Johnson had stooped to make terms with rebels. At all events, he
was powerless, and had to let matters drift to a conclusion.
King died about Friday, May 20th, and the funeral was appointed for
the next Sunday. Early on that day the Governor sent for me at my
house. I found him on the roof of the International, from which we
looked down on the whole city, and more especially the face of
Telegraph Hill, which was already covered with a crowd of people,
while others were moving toward the jail on Broadway. Parties of
armed men, in good order, were marching by platoons in the same
direction; and formed in line along Broadway, facing the jail-door.
Soon a small party was seen to advance to this door, and knock; a
parley ensued, the doors were opened, and Casey was led out. In a
few minutes another prisoner was brought out, who, proved to be
Cora, a man who had once been tried for killing Richardson, the
United States Marshal, when the jury disagreed, and he was awaiting
a new trial. These prisoners were placed in carriages, and
escorted by the armed force down to the rooms of the Vigilance
Committee, through the principal streets of the city. The day was
exceedingly beautiful, and the whole proceeding was orderly in the
extreme. I was under the impression that Casey and Cora were
hanged that same Sunday, but was probably in error; but in a very
few days they were hanged by the neck--dead--suspended from beams
projecting from the windows of the committee's rooms, without other
trial than could be given in secret, and by night.
We all thought the matter had ended there, and accordingly the
Governor returned to Sacramento in disgust, and I went about my
business. But it soon became manifest that the Vigilance Committee
had no intention to surrender the power thus usurped. They took a
building on Clay Street, near Front, fortified it, employed guards
and armed sentinels, sat in midnight council, issued writs of