“‘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.