SECOND DAY.
The morning dawned serenely upon a large concourse of people, standing before the prison and in front of the California Exchange—the place selected for a jury room.
The jury met a few minutes past 8 A. M., and Mr. Boyden was sent for, and the examination of witnesses resumed.
Mr. B., (sworn)—I have known Keene from childhood; know his parents and relatives; met Keene yesterday on the street; did not know him at first sight, until he spoke to me; told me that he was looking for a gentleman in town, who had, as an act of kindness taken up some claims for him; was walking up street with me; then stopped to shake hands with a man named Kelly, who was sitting on some logs in the street; when we left him. Keene walked faster than I did, and was a few steps ahead of me; when in front of Greer’s saloon, I saw a man sitting in the door, (Greer’s;) did not see Keene draw his revolver, but saw the first shot fired, and heard Keene say, “You ——, you have ruined me in Salt Lake City.” This was said after the shooting. Do not think Slater saw Keene at all. Slater was sitting down; I was about five feet from both men; John Keene was about ten feet from Slater.
Q.—Was Kelly with you at that time?
A.—No; Kelly never left the place where he shook hands with Keene.
Q.—Do you know anything about his character?
A.—I have known him for about ten years; he left Saint Paul about eighteen months ago; know nothing about his course or conduct since that time; he was considered a fast young man, but good and kind-hearted; when I conversed with him yesterday, he spoke about a man that had ruined him in Salt Lake City, but he did not mention any names; I did not know anything of the particulars of his (prisoner’s) former difficulties with Slater; never saw Slater and Keene together.
Michael McGregor, (sworn)—I saw Keene in the afternoon; he came to me in the flat, (a point in the lower part of the gulch;) shook hands with me, and then left for town; did not know of the difficulty between Slater and Keene; Keene never spoke to me about it.
D. St. John, (sworn)—Don’t know anything about the shooting affair; was fifteen miles from here when it took place. [The witness here gave some testimony not bearing directly on the case, which was not admitted.]
This closed the examination. The jury went into secret session.
At ten minutes to ten o’clock, the jury came from their room to the place of trial, in the lumber yard, where preparations were made immediately for the reception of the prisoner.
At ten o’clock, the culprit made his appearance on the ground, under an escort of about fifty well armed men. A circle was formed by the guard and the prisoner placed in the center. His appearance was not that of a man likely to die in a few minutes. He looked bravely around the crowd, nodding here and there to his acquaintances, and calling to them by name. Captain Florman having detailed his guard, gave the word, “all ready.” The foreman of the jury then opened the sealed verdict: “We, the jury, in the case of the people of Montana versus John Keene, find him guilty of murder in the first degree.”
A Voice—“What shall be done?”
Several voices in the crowd—“Hang him! hang him!”
The President here rose and said he wished to hear some expression of the public sentiment or motions in the case.
Calls were made for Colonel Johnson. The Colonel addressed the assembly in an appropriate speech, which was followed by a few short and pertinent remarks from Judge Bond.
On motion of A. J. Edwards, the testimony of Messrs. Boyden and Michael McGregor was read, and thereupon Judge Lawrence rose and said he was sure Keene had all the chance for a fair trial he could have wished, and motioned to carry the jury’s verdict into execution. Passed.
The prisoner here got up and said: “All I wanted was a fair and just trial; I think I have got it, and death is my doom; but I want time to settle up my business; I am not trying to get away.”
He was granted an hour’s time to prepare for his execution. The committee fixed the hour of execution at 11¹⁄₂ o’clock A. M. Keene remarked that he hadn’t any money to pay expenses—and was told that it should not cost him a cent. The guard now took charge of the doomed man, and escorted him to an adjacent house, in order that he might arrange his affairs.
At 11 A. M. crowds of people could be seen ascending the hill north of Helena, and not a small number of ladies were perceptible in the throng. The place of execution was chosen with a due regard to convenience and economy—a large pine tree, with stout limbs, standing almost alone, in a shallow ravine, was selected for the gallows.
At 11 A. M., the prisoner, accompanied by the Rev. Mr. McLaughlin, arrived in a lumber wagon. A dry-goods box and two planks, to form the trap, were in the same vehicle. The unfortunate victim of his unbridled passions sat astride of one of the planks, his countenance exhibiting the utmost unconcern, and on his arrival at the tree, he said: “My honor compelled me to do what I have done.” He then bade good-bye to some of his acquaintances. The wagon having been adjusted so as to bring the hind axle under the rope, a plank was laid from the dry-goods box to another plank set upon end, and the trap was ready.
At four minutes to twelve o’clock, the prisoner’s arms were pinioned, and he was assisted to mount the wagon. Standing on the frail platform, he said, in a loud and distinct voice: “What I have done, my honor compelled me to do. Slater run me from Salt Lake City to Virginia, and from there to this country. He slapped me in the face here, yesterday; and I was advised by my friends to arm myself. When Slater saw me, he said ‘There is the Irish ——; he has not left town yet.’ Then I commenced firing. My honor compelled me to do what I have done.” Here he called for a drink of water, which was procured as speedily as it could be brought to the top of the hill. He took a long, deep draught of the water, and the rope was adjusted round his neck. A handkerchief being thrown over his face, he raised his hand to it and said: “What are you putting that there for? Take it off.” Stepping to the end of the trap, he said: “What I have done to Slater, I have done willingly. He punished me severely. Honor compelled me to do what I have done. He run me from town to town; I tried to shun him here; but he saw me—called me a —— and smacked me in the face. I did not want any trouble with him; my honor compelled me to do what I have done. I am here, and must die; and if I was to live till to-morrow I would do the same thing again. I am ready; jerk the cart as soon as you please.”
At seven minutes past twelve, the wagon started, the trap fell, and Keene was launched into eternity. He fell three and a half feet without breaking his neck. A few spasmodic struggles for three or four minutes, were all that was perceptible of his dying agonies. After hanging half an hour, the body was cut down and taken in charge by his friends.
So ended the first tragedy at Helena. The execution was conducted by Mr. J. X. Biedler, and everything went off in a quiet and orderly manner. Many familiar faces, known to Virginia men in the trying times of the winter of ’64, were visible.
The effect, in Helena, of this execution was electrical. The roughs saw that the day had gone against them, and trembled for their lives. There were in town, at that time, scores of men from every known mining locality of the West, and many of them were steeped to the lips in crime. Such a decision as that now rendered by a jury of the people boded them no good. They saw that the citizens of Montana had determined that outrage should be visited with condign punishment, and that prudence dictated an immediate stampede from Helena. Walking about the streets, they occasionally approached an old comrade, and furtively glancing around, they would give expression to their feelings in the chartered form of language peculiar to mountaineers who consider that something extraordinary, unjust, cruel or hard to bear, is being enacted, “Say, Bill, this is rough, ain’t it?” To which the terse reply was usually vouchsafed, “It is, by thunder; —— rough.” Cayuses began to rise rapidly in demand and price. Men went “prospecting” (?) who had never been accused of such an act before; and a very considerable improvement in the average appearance of the population soon became visible.
A constant stream of miners and others was now pouring into the Territory, from the West, and the consequence was that thinking portion of the citizens of Helena began to see that a regular organization of an independent Vigilance Committee was necessary to watch over the affairs of the young city, and to take steps for both the prevention of crime and for the punishment of criminals. There were in the town a considerable number of the old Committee; these, with few exceptions, gave the movement their sanction, and the new body was speedily and effectively organized; an executive elected, companies formed, under the leadership of old hands who had mostly seen service in the perilous times of ’63-4. A sketch of their subsequent operations will appear in this work, and also an account of the terrible massacre and robbery of the passengers of the Overland coach, in the Portneuf canyon, near Snake river, I. T., together with an account of the capture and execution of Frank Williams, who drove the stage into the ambush.
As it was asserted by Keene that Slater had slapped him in the face, and otherwise insulted him in Helena, before the firing of the fatal shot, it is proper to state that such was not the case. Slater was entirely ignorant of Keene’s presence in town; in fact, the other, it will be remembered, had only just previously arrived there, riding with the witness who swore he crossed the Divide in his company. It is also an entire mistake to suppose that Keene was a man of good character or blameless life. The following statement of his previous career of crime, in the East, will be read with interest by many who are under the impression that the murder of Slater was his first offense. It is taken from the Memphis “Appeal,” of November 24th, 1865, and, of course, was written without any intention of being published in this work, or of furnishing any justification of the Vigilance Committee. If such had been the intention, it would have been a work of supererogation; for never was a case of murder in the first degree more fully proven. The homicide in broad day light, and the evident malice “prepense” were matters of public notoriety:
“Of the many strange circumstances born of and nurtured by the past war, a parallel to the catalogue of crime herein given has been rarely, if ever, met with.
“In this vicinity, near three years ago, the name of ‘Bob Black’ has, on more than one occasion, struck terror to the hearts of a large number of countrymen, cotton buyers and sellers, whose business compelled them to enter or make their exit from the city by the way of the Hernando or Horn Lake roads.
“‘Bob Black’ came to this city about six years ago, bringing with him a good character for honesty and industry and continued to work steadily here until the outbreak of the war. At that time he desired to enter the gunboat service, and for that purpose left this city for New Orleans; and, after remaining there some time, he joined the crew of a Confederate ram, the name of which has since slipped our memory. While on his way up from New Orleans, he became enraged at some wrong, real or fancied, at the hands of the captain of the ram, and being of a very impulsive nature, seized a marling-spike, and with a blow, felled the captain to the deck. He was immediately placed in irons, and upon the arrival of the gunboat at Fort Pillow, was handed over to General Villipigue, for safe keeping. A court-martial was ordered, and while in progress, the evacuation of Fort Pillow became necessary, and the prisoner was transferred to Grenada, Mississippi. In the confusion of everything about Grenada at that time, he managed to effect his escape, and passing immediately through the Confederate lines, reached Memphis a few days after its occupation by the Federal authorities. Without any means to provide himself with food or clothing, with a mind borne down with trouble and suffering, and bereft of every hope from which the slightest consolation might be derived, the once honest man was driven to a career of desperation and crime which, if given in its details, would cause the blood-thirsty tales of the yellow-covered trash to pale for their very puerility and tameness.
“In this condition of mind and body he remained in the city for some time, wandering about here and there; until one day, while standing at the Worsham House corner, he became involved in a quarrel with one James Dolan, a member of the Eighth Missouri Regiment, a large and powerful man, while Black was a man of medium height and stature. Words between the parties waged furious, and finally Dolan struck Black with a cane which he had with him; but quickly warding off the blow, Black wrenched the cane from his adversary and dealt him a blow, which so fractured the skull of Dolan as to cause death within a short time thereafter. Black effected his escape from the city, and with a couple of accomplices, began a system of wholesale murder and robbery on the Hernando road. The atrocity and boldness of these acts created the greatest excitement in Memphis.
“Several parties were robbed of sums varying from one to as high as ten thousand dollars, and, in one instance, a speculator was compelled to disgorge to the amount of five thousand dollars in gold. Of course, these rascals, of whom Black was the leader, often met with men who would make resistance rather than give up their money; and in this way no less than three or four fell victims to the fiendish spirit exhibited by these scoundrels. It was finally agreed upon by the military commanders of the district, on both sides, that means should be taken which would insure their capture. Accordingly a squad of Blythe’s battalion, of the rebel army, were sent in pursuit, and succeeded in capturing, about ten miles out of the city, Black and his companion, a fellow young in years, named Whelan. They were placed in the guard-house in Hernando, we believe, and at a pre-concerted signal attacked the guard, and mounting some horses belonging to the soldiers, made off at a rapid rate. The guard immediately started in pursuit, and coming upon Whelan, who was some distance behind Black, shot and killed him. Black again escaped, and applied himself with more vigor than ever to the plundering, stealing and robbing of everybody and everything that came within his reach. He would frequently ride into this city at night, passing through the lines at will; and, as an instance of his audacity, on one occasion rode down Adams street, and fired several shots into the station house. It was reported that he had accumulated large sums of money, and the report proved correct. As his business became either too tiresome or too dangerous, he came to the city, disguised, and took passage on a boat for the North. Since that time, and until recently, nothing has been heard from him. It seems that after leaving Memphis, he went to St. Paul, Minnesota, and embarked in the staging and saloon business, under his proper name, John Keene. His restless spirit could not stand the monotony of such a dull business (to him), and, organizing a band of some twenty men, he started for the Territories.”
CHAPTER XXIX.
CAPTURE AND EXECUTION OF JAKE SILVIE alias JACOB SEACHRIEST, A ROAD AGENT AND MURDERER OF TWELVE YEARS STANDING, AND THE SLAYER OF TWELVE MEN.
“Whoso sheddeth man’s blood, by man shall his blood be shed.”
God’s Law.
The crimes and punishment of many a daring desperado, have been chronicled in these pages; but among them all, none was more worthy of death than the blood-stained miscreant whose well deserved fate is recorded in this chapter. According to his own confession—made, when all hope was gone, and death was inevitable, and when nothing was to be gained by such a statement, but the disburdening of a conscience oppressed by the weight of guilt—Jacob Seachriest was a native of Pennsylvania, and had been a thief, Road Agent and murderer for twelve years; during which time he had murdered, single-handed or in company with others, twelve individuals.
In a former chapter of this history—the one detailing the arrest and execution of Jem Kelly at Snake River—it will be remembered that the body of a man, shot through the back of the head, was found in a creek by a patrol of the Vigilantes, and buried in a willow coffin. The full particulars of the tragedy we are unable to furnish to our readers; but Seachriest confessed that he and his comrades cast lots to determine who should commit the bloody deed, it being repugnant, even to their notions of manhood, to crawl up behind an unarmed man, sitting quietly on the bank of a creek, and to kill him for the sake of what he might chance to possess, without exchanging a word. The “hazard of the die” pointed out Seachriest as the assassin; and with his pistol ready cocked, he stole upon his victim and killed him instantly, by sending a ball through his brain. A stone was fastened to the body, and it was sunk in a hole formed by an eddy, in the stream, the thieves having first appropriated every article of value about his person.
The captain was much moved by the sad spectacle, though well accustomed to the sight of murdered victims, having served through the war against the border ruffians, in “Bleeding Kansas,” and having gone through a chequered career of adventure, including five years life by the camp-fire. He said, with much emotion, “Boys, something tells me I’ll be at the hanging of this man’s murderer, within twelve months of this day;” and so it fell out, though most unexpectedly.
Shortly after the execution of John Keene for the murder of Slater, information was sent to the Committee, that a man named Jake Silvie had been arrested at Diamond City—a flourishing new mining camp in Confederate Gulch, one of the largest and richest of the placer diggings of Montana. The town is about fifteen miles beyond the Missouri, and about forty miles East of Helena. The charges against the culprit were robbery, obtaining goods under false pretenses, and various other crimes of a kindred sort. It was also intimated that he was a man of general bad character, and that he had confessed enough to warrant the Committee in holding him for further examination, though the proof of his commission of the principal offense of which he was accused was not greater, at the time, than would amount to a strong presumption of guilt.
The messenger brought with him copies of the confession made by the prisoner, under oath, before the proper person to receive an obligation. The substance of his story was that he was an honest, hard-working miner; that he had just come into the country, by the way of Salt Lake City; that on reaching Virginia City, and while under the influence of liquor, he had fallen into bad company, and was initiated into an organized band of robbers. He gave the names of about a dozen of the members of the gang, and minutely described the signs of recognition, etc. It was evident, from his account that the ceremonies attending the entry into this villainous fraternity were simple and forcible, although not legal. The candidate was placed in the center of a circle formed of desperadoes; one or two revolvers at full cock were presented at his head, and he was then informed that his taking the obligation was to be a purely voluntary act on his part; for that he was at perfect liberty to refuse to do so; ONLY, in that case, that his brains would be blown out without any further ceremony. Though not a man of any education, Silvie could not afford to lose his brains, having only one set, and he therefore consented to proceed, and swore through a long formula, of which, he said he recollected very little, distinctly, except a pledge of secrecy and of fidelity to the band.
On receipt of the intelligence, a captain, with a squad of four or five men, was immediately dispatched to Diamond City, with orders to bring the prisoner to Helena as soon as possible. The party lost but little time in the performance of their duty, and on the following day the chief of the Committee rode out, as previously agreed upon, in company with X (a letter of the alphabet having singular terrors for evil doers in Montana, being calculated to awaken the idea of crime committed and punishment to follow, more than all the rest of the alphabet, even if the enumeration were followed by the repetition of the ten commandments,) and meeting the guard in charge of the prisoner, they accompanied them into town. Silvie was confined in the same cabin in which John Keene past his last night on earth. A strong guard was detailed for the purpose of watching the prisoner, and the Committee being summoned, the case was investigated with all due deliberation; but the Committee were not entirely satisfied that the evidence, though complete, was all of such a reliable character as to justify a conviction; and, therefore, they preferred to adjourn their inquiry, for the production of further testimony. This was accordingly done, and the prisoner was removed to an obscure cabin, in a more remote part of the town, where the members of the Committee would have an opportunity of free access to him and might learn from his own lips what sort of a man they had to deal with.
They were not long in arriving at a satisfactory conclusion on this point. He at first adhered to and repeated his old story and confession; but gaining a little confidence, and thinking there was not much danger to be apprehended from the action of the Committee, he at length denied every word of his former statement, made under oath; said it was all false; that he knew of no such organization as he had told of, and declared that he had been compelled to tell this for his own safety. After being cross questioned pretty thoroughly, he told the truth, stating that he had given a correct statement in the first place; only, that instead of joining the band in Virginia City, he had become acquainted with some of the leaders, on the Columbia River, on the way up from Portland, and that he had accompanied them to Virginia City, M. T., travelling thither by the way of Snake River. (It was on this trip that he committed the murder before described.) This was a fatal admission on the part of the prisoner, as it completed the chain of evidence that linked him with the desperadoes whose crimes have given an unenviable notoriety to the neighborhood of that affluent of the Columbia—the dread of storm-stayed freighters and the grave of so many victims of marauders—Snake River.
Another meeting of the Executive Committee was called during the day, and after due deliberation, the verdict was unanimous that he was a Road Agent, and that he should receive the just reward of his crimes, in the shape of the penalty attached to the commission of highway robbery and murder, by the citizens of Montana. After a long discussion, it was determined that he should be executed on the murderer’s tree, in Dry Gulch, at an hour after midnight. The prison guards were doubled, and no person was allowed to hold converse with the prisoner, except by permission of the officers.
The execution at night was determined upon for many sufficient reasons. A few of them are here stated: It had been abundantly demonstrated that but for the murder of Slater having occurred in open day, and before the eyes of a crowd of witnesses, Keene would have been rescued; and the moral effect produced by a public execution, among the hardened sinners who compose a large part of the audience at such times, is infinitely less than the terror to the guilty, produced by the unannounced but inevitable vengeance which may at any moment be visited upon their own heads. Such a power is dreaded most by those who fear its exercise.
The desire to die game, so common to desperadoes, frequently robs death of half its terrors, if not of all of them, as in the case of Boon Helm, Bunton and others. Confessions are very rarely made at public executions in the mountains; though scarcely ever withheld at private ones. There are also many honest and upright men who have a great objection to be telegraphed over the west as “stranglers,” yet who would cheerfully sacrifice their lives rather than by word or deed become accessory to an unjust sentence. The main question is the guilt of the prisoner. If this is ascertained without doubt, hour and place are mere matters of policy. Private executions are now fast superseding public ones, in civilized communities.
There is not now—and there never has been—one upright citizen in Montana, who has a particle of fear of being hanged by the Vigilance Committee. Concerning those whose conscience tells them that they are in danger, it is of little consequence when or where they suffer for the outrages they have committed. One private execution is a more dreaded and wholesome warning to malefactors than one hundred public ones.
If it be urged that public executions are desirable from the notoriety that is ensured to the whole circumstances, it may fairly be answered that the action of Judge, and jury, and counsel is equally desirable, and, indeed, infinitely preferable, when it is effective and impartial, to any administration of justice by Vigilance Committees; but, except in the case of renowned Road Agents and notorious criminals whose names are a by-word, before their arrest, or where the crime is a revolting outrage, witnessed by a large number, the feeling of the community in a new camp is against ANY punishment being given, and the knowledge of this fact is the desperadoes’ chief reliance for escape from the doom he has so often dared, and has yet escaped.
When informed of his sentence the prisoner seemed little affected by it, and evidently did not believe it, but regarded it as a ruse on the part of the Committee to obtain a confession from him. After the shades of night had settled down upon the town of Helena, a minister was invited to take a walk with an officer of the Vigilantes, and proceeded in his company to the cabin where Silvie was confined, and was informed of the object in view in requesting his attendance. He at once communicated the fact to the culprit, who feigned a good deal of repentance, received baptism at his own request, and appeared to pray with great fervor. He seemed to think that he was cheating the Almighty himself, as well as duping the Vigilantes most completely.
At length the hour appointed for the execution arrived, and the matter was arranged so that the prisoner should not know whither he was going until he came to the fatal tree. The Committee were all out of sight, except one man, who led him by the arm to the place of execution, conversing with him in the German tongue, which seemed still further to assure him that it was all a solemn farce, and that he should “come out all right;” but when he found himself standing under the very tree on which Keene was hanged and beheld the dark mass closing in on all sides, each man carrying a revolver in his hand, he began to realize his situation, and begged most piteously for his life, offering to tell anything and everything, if they would only spare him. Being informed that that was “played out,” and that he must die, his manner changed, and he began his confession. He stated that he had been in the business for twelve years, and repeated the story before related, about his being engaged in the perpetration of a dozen murders, and the final atrocity committed by him on Snake River. He stated that it was thought their victim was returning from the mines, and that he had plenty of money, which on an examination of him, after his death, proved to be a mistake.
The long and black catalogue of his crimes was too much for the patience of the Vigilantes, who, though used to the confessions of ordinary criminals, were unprepared to hear from a man just baptized, such a fearful recital of disgusting enormities. They thought that it was high time that the world should be rid of such a monster, and so signified to the chief, who seemed to be of the same opinion, and at once gave the order to “proceed with the execution.” Seeing that his time was come, Silvie ceased his narrative, and said to the men, “Boys, don’t let me hang more than two or three days.” He was told that they were in the habit of burying such fellows as him in Montana. The word “take hold,” was given, and every man present “tailed on” to the rope which ran over the “limb of the law.” Not even the chief was exempt, and the signal being given, he was run up all standing—the only really merciful way of hanging. A turn or two was taken with the slack of the rope, round the tree, and the end was belayed to a knot which projects from the trunk. This being completed, the motionless body was left suspended until life was supposed to be extinct, the Vigilantes gazing on it in silence.
Two men were then detailed, and stood, with an interval of about two feet between them, facing each other. Between these “testers” marched every man present, in single file, giving the pass-word of the organization in a low whisper. One man was found in the crowd who had not learned the particular “articulate sound representing an idea,” which was so necessary to be known. He was scared very considerably, when singled out and brought before the chief; but, after a few words of essential preliminary precaution, he was discharged, breathing more freely, and smiling like the sun after an April shower, with the drops of perspiration still on his forehead.
The Committee gradually dispersed, not as usually is the case, with solemn countenances and thoughtful brows, but firmly and cheerfully; for each man felt that his strain on the fatal rope was a righteous duty, and a service performed to the community. Such an incarnate fiend, they knew, was totally unfit to live,and unworthy of sympathy. Neither courage, generosity, truth nor manhood, pleaded for mercy, in his case, he lived a sordid and red-handed robber, and he died unpitied, the death of a dog.
Very little action was necessary on the part of the Vigilance Committee, to prevent any combination of the enemies of law and order from exerting a prejudicial influence on the peace and good order of the capital; in fact, the organization gradually ceased to exercise its functions, and, though in existence, its name, more than its active exertions, sufficed to preserve tranquility. When Chief Justice Hosmer arrived in the Territory, and organized the Territorial and County Courts, he thought it his duty to refer to the Vigilantes, in his charge to the Grand Jury, and invited them to sustain the authorities as citizens. The old guardians of the peace of the Territory were greatly rejoiced at being released from their onerous and responsible duties, and most cheerfully and heartily complied with the request of the Judiciary.
For some months no action of any kind was taken by them; but, in the summer of 1865, news reached them of the burning and sacking of Idaho City, and they were reliably informed that an attempt would be made to burn Virginia, also, by desperadoes from the West. That this was true was soon demonstrated by ocular proof; for two attempts were made though happily discovered and rendered abortive, to set fire to the city. In both cases, the parties employed laid combustibles in such a manner that, but for the Vigilance and promptitude of some old Vigilantes, a most destructive conflagration must have occurred in the most crowded part of the town. In one case the heap of chips and whittled wood a foot in diameter had burnt so far only as to leave a ring of the outer ends of the pile visible. In the other attempt a collection of old rags were placed against the wall of an outbuilding attached to the Wisconsin House, situated within the angle formed by the junction of Idaho and Jackson streets. Had this latter attempt succeeded, it is impossible to conjecture the amount of damage that must have been inflicted upon the town, for frame buildings fifty feet high were in close proximity, and had they once caught fire, the flames might have destroyed at least half of the business houses on Wallace, Idaho and Jackson streets.
At this time, too, it was a matter of every day remark that Virginia was full of lawless characters, and many of them thinking that the Vigilantes were officially defunct, did not hesitate to threaten the lives of prominent citizens, always including in their accusations, that they were strangling ——. This state of things could not be permitted to last; and, as the authorities admitted that they were unable to meet the emergency, the Vigilantes reorganized at once, with the consent and approbation of almost every good and order-loving citizen in the Territory.
The effect of this movement was marvellous; the roughs disappeared rapidly from the town; but a most fearful tragedy, enacted in Portneuf Canyon, Idaho, on the 13th of July roused the citizens almost to frenzy. The Overland coach from Virginia to Salt Lake City, was driven into an ambuscade by Frank Williams, and though the passengers were prepared for Road Agents, and fired simultaneously with their assailants, who were under cover and stationary, yet four of them, viz: A. S. Parker, A. J. McCausland, David Dinan and W. L. Mers were shot dead; L. F. Carpenter was slightly hurt in three places, and Charles Parks was apparently mortally wounded. The driver was untouched, and James Brown, a passenger, jumped into the bushes and got off, unhurt. Carpenter avoided death by feigning to be in the last extremity, when a villain came to shoot him a second time. The gang of murderers, of whom eight were present at the attack, secured a booty of $65,000 in gold, and escaped undetected.
A party of Vigilantes started in pursuit, but effected nothing at the time; and it was not till after several months patient work of a special detective from Montana, that guilt was brought home to the driver, who was executed by the Denver Committee, on Cherry Creek. Eventually, it is probable that all of them will be captured, and meet their just doom.
The last offenders who were executed by the Vigilance Committee of Virginia City, were two horse thieves and confessed Road Agents, named, according to their own account John Morgan and John Jackson alias Jones. They were, however, of the “alias” tribe. The former was caught in the act of appropriating a horse in one of the city corrals. He was an old offender, and on his back were the marks of the whipping he received in Colorado for committing an unnatural crime. He was a low, vicious ruffian. His comrade was a much more intelligent man, and acknowledged the justice of his sentence without any hesitation. Morgan gave the names and signs of the gang they belonged to, of which Rattlesnake Dick was the leader. Their lifeless bodies were found hanging from a hay-frame, leaning over the corral fence at the slaughter house, on the branch, about half a mile from the city. The printed manifesto of the Vigilantes was affixed to Morgan’s clothes with the warning words written across it, “Road Agents, beware!”
Outrages against person and property are still perpetrated occasionally, though much less frequently than is usual in settled countries; and it is to be hoped that regularly administered law will, for the future, render a Vigilance Committee unnecessary. The power behind the Throne of Justice stands ready, in Virginia City, to back the authorities; but nothing except grave public necessity will evoke its independent action.
The Vigilance Committee at Helena and at Diamond City, Confederate Gulch, were occasionally called upon to make examples of irreclaimable, outlawed vagrants, who having been driven from other localities, first made their presence known in Montana by robbery or murder; but as the lives and career of these men were low, obscure and brutal, the record of their atrocities and punishment would be but a dreary and uninteresting detail of sordid crime, without even the redeeming quality of courage or manhood to relieve the narrative.
The only remarkable case was that of James Daniels, who was arrested for killing a man named Gartley, with a knife, near Helena. The quarrel arose during a game of cards. The Vigilantes arrested Daniels and handed him over to the civil authorities, receiving a promise that he should be fairly tried and dealt with according to law. In view of alleged extenuating circumstances, the Jury found a verdict of murder in the second degree, (manslaughter.) For this crime, Daniels was sentenced to three years incarceration in the Territorial prison, by the Judge of the United States Court, who reminded the prisoner of the extreme lightness of the penalty as compared with that usually affixed to the crime of manslaughter by the States and Territories of the West. After a few weeks imprisonment, the culprit, who had threatened the lives of the witnesses for the prosecution, during the trial, was set at liberty by a reprieve of the Executive, made under a probably honest, but entirely erroneous constitution of the law, which vests the pardoning power in the President only. This action was taken on the petition of thirty-two respectable citizens of Helena. Daniels returned at once to the scene of his crime, and renewed his threats against the witnesses, on his way thither. These circumstances coming to the ears of some of the Vigilantes, he was arrested and hanged, the same night.
The wife of Gartley died of a broken heart when she heard of the murder of her husband. Previous to the prisoner leaving Virginia for Helena, Judge L. E. Munson went to the capital expressly for the purpose of requesting the annulling of the reprieve; but this being refused, he ordered the rearrest, and the Sheriff having reported the fugitive’s escape beyond his precinct, the Judge returned to Helena with the order of the Acting-Marshal in his pocket, authorizing his Deputy to rearrest Daniels. Before he reached town, Daniels was hanged.
That Daniels morally deserved the punishment he received there can be no doubt. That, legally speaking, he should have been unmolested, is equally clear; but when escaped murderers utter threats of murder against peaceable citizens mountain law is apt to be administered without much regard to technicalities, and when a man says he is going to kill any one, in a mining country, it is understood that he means what he says, and must abide the consequences. Two human beings had fallen victims to his thirst of blood—the husband and the wife. Three more were threatened; but the action of the Vigilantes prevented the commission of the contemplated atrocities. To have waited for the consummation of his avowed purpose, after what he had done before, would have been shutting the stable door after the steed was stolen. The politic and the proper course would have been to arrest him and hold him for the action of the authorities.