THE VIGILANTES OF '51
In 1851 the price for one commodity became too high. That commodity was
lawlessness.
In two years the population of the city had vastly increased, until it
now numbered over thirty thousand inhabitants. At an equal or greater
pace the criminal and lawless elements had also increased. The
confessedly criminal immigrants were paroled convicts from Sydney and
other criminal colonies. These practiced men were augmented by the weak
and desperate from other countries. Mexico, especially, was strongly
represented. At first few in numbers and poverty-stricken in resources,
these men acted merely as footpads, highwaymen, and cheap crooks. As
time went on, however, they gradually became more wealthy and powerful,
until they had established a sort of caste. They had not the social
importance of many of the "higher-ups" of 1856, but they were crude,
powerful, and in many cases wealthy. They were ably seconded by a class
of lawyers which then, and for some years later, infested the courts of
California. These men had made little success at law, or perhaps had
been driven forth from their native haunts because of evil practices.
They played the game of law exactly as the cheap criminal lawyer does
today, but with the added advantage that their activities were
controlled neither by a proper public sentiment nor by the usual
discipline of better colleagues. Unhappily we are not yet far enough
removed from just this perversion to need further explanation of the
method. Indictments were fought for the reason that the murderer's name
was spelled wrong in one letter; because, while the accusation stated
that the murderer killed his victim with a pistol, it did not say that
it was by the discharge of said pistol; and so on. But patience could
not endure forever. The decent element of the community was forced at
last to beat the rascals. Its apparent indifference had been only
preoccupation.
The immediate cause was the cynical and open criminal activity of an
Englishman named James Stuart. This man was a degenerate criminal of
the worst type, who came into a temporary glory through what he
considered the happy circumstances of the time. Arrested for one of his
crimes, he seemed to anticipate the usual very good prospects of
escaping all penalties. There had been dozens of exactly similar
incidents, but this one proved to be the spark to ignite a long
gathering pile of kindling. One hundred and eighty-four of the
wealthiest and most prominent men of the city formed themselves into a
secret Committee of Vigilance. As is usual when anything of importance
is to be done, the busiest men of the community were summoned and put to
work. Strangely enough, the first trial under this Committee of
Vigilance resulted also in a divided jury. The mob of eight thousand or
more people who had gathered to see justice done by others than the
appointed court finally though grumblingly acquiesced. The prisoners
were turned over to the regular authorities, and were eventually
convicted and sentenced.
So far from being warned by this popular demonstration, the criminal
offenders grew bolder than ever. The second great fire, in May, 1851,
was commonly believed to be the work of incendiaries. Patience ceased
to be a virtue. The time for resolute repression of crime had arrived.
In June the Vigilance Committee was formally organized. Our old and
picturesque friend Sam Brannan was deeply concerned. In matters of
initiative for the public good, especially where a limelight was
concealed in the wing, Brannan was an able and efficient citizen.
Headquarters were chosen and a formal organization was perfected. The
Monumental Fire Engine Company bell was to be tolled as a summons for
the Committee to meet.
Even before the first meeting had adjourned, this signal was given. A
certain John Jenkins had robbed a safe and was caught after a long and
spectacular pursuit. Jenkins was an Australian convict and was known to
numerous people as an old offender in many ways. He was therefore
typical of the exact thing the Vigilance Committee had been formed to
prevent. By eleven o'clock the trial, which was conducted with due
decorum and formality, was over. Jenkins was adjudged guilty. There was
no disorder either before or after Jenkins's trial. Throughout the trial
and subsequent proceedings Jenkins's manner was unafraid and arrogant.
He fully expected not only that the nerve of the Committee would give
out, but that at any moment he would be rescued. It must be remembered
that the sixty or seventy men in charge were known as peaceful unwarlike
merchants, and that against them were arrayed all the belligerent
swashbucklers of the town. While the trial was going on, the Committee
was informed by its officers outside that already the roughest
characters throughout the city had been told of the organization, and
were gathering for rescue. The prisoner insulted his captors, still
unconvinced that they meant business; then he demanded a clergyman, who
prayed for three-quarters of an hour straight, until Mr. Ryckman,
hearing of the gathering for rescue, no longer contained himself. Said
he: "Mr. Minister, you have now prayed three-quarters of an hour. I want
you to bring this prayer business to a halt. I am going to hang this man
in fifteen minutes."
The Committee itself was by no means sure at all times. Bancroft tells
us that "one time during the proceedings there appeared some faltering
on the part of the judges, or rather a hesitancy to take the lead in
assuming responsibility and braving what might be subsequent odium. It
was one thing for a half-drunken rabble to take the life of a fellow
man, but quite another thing for staid church-going men of business to
do it. Then it was that William A. Howard, after watching the
proceedings for a few moments, rose, and laying his revolver on the
table looked over the assembly. Then with a slow enunciation he said,
'Gentlemen, as I understand it, we are going to hang somebody.' There
was no more halting."
While these things were going on, Sam Brannan was sent out to
communicate to the immense crowd the Committee's decision. He was
instructed by Ryckman, "Sam, you go out and harangue the crowd while we
make ready to move." Brannan was an ideal man for just such a purpose.
He was of an engaging personality, of coarse fiber, possessed of a keen
sense of humor, a complete knowledge of crowd psychology, and a command
of ribald invective that carried far. He spoke for some time, and at the
conclusion boldly asked the crowd whether or not the Committee's action
met with its approval. The response was naturally very much mixed, but
like a true politician Sam took the result he wanted. They found the
lovers of order had already procured for them two ropes, and had
gathered into some sort of coherence. The procession marched to the
Plaza where Jenkins was duly hanged. The lawless element gathered at the
street corners, and at least one abortive attempt at rescue was started.
But promptness of action combined with the uncertainty of the situation
carried the Committee successfully through. The coroner's jury next day
brought in a verdict that the deceased "came to his death on the part of
an association styling themselves a Committee on Vigilance, of whom the
following members are implicated." And then followed nine names. The
Committee immediately countered by publishing its roster of one hundred
and eighty names in full.
The organization that was immediately perfected was complete and
interesting. This was an association that was banded together and
close-knit, and not merely a loose body of citizens. It had
headquarters, company organizations, police, equipment, laws of its own,
and a regular routine for handling the cases brought before it. Its
police force was large and active. Had the Vigilance movement in
California begun and ended with the Committee of 1851, it would be not
only necessary but most interesting to follow its activities in detail.
But, as it was only the forerunner and trail-blazer for the greater
activities of 1856, we must save our space and attention for the latter.
Suffice it to say that, with only nominal interference from the law, the
first Committee hanged four people and banished a great many more for
the good of their country. Fifty executions in the ordinary way would
have had little effect on the excited populace of the time; but in the
peculiar circumstances these four deaths accomplished a moral
regeneration. This revival of public conscience could not last long, to
be sure, but the worst criminals were, at least for the time being,
cowed.
Spasmodic efforts toward coherence were made by the criminals, but these
attempts all proved abortive. Inflammatory circulars and newspaper
articles, small gatherings, hidden threats, were all freely indulged in.
At one time a rescue of two prisoners was accomplished, but the
Monumental bell called together a determined band of men who had no
great difficulty in reclaiming their own. The Governor of the State,
secretly in sympathy with the purposes of the Committee, was satisfied
to issue a formal proclamation.
It must be repeated that, were it not for the later larger movement of
1856, this Vigilance Committee would merit more extended notice. It
gave a lead, however, and a framework on which the Vigilance Committee
of 1856 was built. It proved that the better citizens, if aroused, could
take matters into their own hands. But the opposing forces of 1851 were
very different from those of five years later. And the transition from
the criminal of 1851 to the criminal of 1856 is the history of San
Francisco between those two dates.