THE MURDER OF "CHEAP JOHN" IN DENVER IN 1866--GEN. COOK HEARS THE MAN
FALL AND RUSHES TO HIS RESCUE, BUT TOO LATE TO CATCH THE MURDERER--A
NIGHT'S SEARCH RESULTS IN SOME STARTLING REVELATIONS--WHAT A PRYING
WOMAN HEARD THROUGH A CRACK IN THE WALL--ARREST OF GEORGE CORMAN--HIS
TRIAL AND ACQUITTAL--AFTERWARDS BLOWN TO ATOMS IN A TUNNEL NEAR
GEORGETOWN.
The murder of August Gallinger, _alias_ "Cheap John," created a sensation
in Denver in the latter part of the year 1866, which for a long while
engaged the public attention. Mr. Gallinger kept a small store on the
corner of Twelfth and Blake streets, and lived alone over the store in a
small room. He had been a member of the Third Colorado regiment, enlisted
for a hundred days, and had taken part in the Sand Creek fight. He was
quite popular, and although a street peddler, he did a thriving business.
He lived in plain style, and was supposed by some to be a miser. This
impression it was which led to his murder.
The assault occurred on the night of December 15, 1866. Gen. Cook had been
elected city marshal of Denver for the first time a few months previous.
On the night of the occurrence he was passing across the Blake street
bridge from Denver to West Denver, accompanied by another officer. They
were walking leisurely along, when they heard something fall, creating a
loud noise. Cook immediately formed the conclusion that something wrong
had happened, and he and his companion started in the direction of the
point from which the noise had come, and it appeared to be in John's
house. There was no one below, hence the officers rushed up stairs. It was
about 9 o'clock in the evening, and as there were no artificial lights in
the house, they found the place quite dark. As they went up the front
steps they thought they heard some one descending the rear steps, but as
they at that time did not know what had happened, they passed on into
John's room, and did not pursue the party who was leaving the house.
Reaching Mr. Gallinger's room, their ears were greeted by moans from a man
sitting on a lounge. Gen. Cook went up to where the man--who proved to be
Gallinger--sat and assisted him to his feet, demanding to know what had
occurred and how it had all come about. He found Gallinger covered with
blood, and when the officer pulled him up the poor fellow clutched the
lappel of Cook's coat with his bloody hands. The blood was flowing from a
deep wound four inches long in the head. When questioned, John replied in
German, and was evidently demented. But it did not require any speech to
explain that murder had been attempted. The wound was of a nature that
precluded the possibility of suicide; and, besides, the instrument with
which it had been inflicted was nowhere to be seen. It was evident from
the appearance of the wound that it had been made with a hatchet, the
murderer coming upon the victim while sitting, and striking with the edge
of the tool. Dr. F. J. Bancroft was summoned. Upon examination he found
that the skull had been seriously fractured, and pronounced the wound
necessarily fatal. It may as well be stated here, as elsewhere, that the
doctor's prediction was verified, and that the old man died a week
afterwards. He was never conscious after the night of the assault, and
hence could throw no light whatever upon the affair.
Leaving the wounded man in care of others, Gen. Cook immediately began a
search for the murderer. He found the tracks of a man leading out from the
rear of the building, and made an exact measurement of them. He also found
a woman who stated that she had seen a man go out of the building at the
rear at about the time of the attack, but she had not been able to get a
good look at him on account of the darkness, and thought she would be
unable to recognize him.
Here was a dilemma. A crime had been committed only a few minutes before,
but the criminal seemed to have escaped as effectually as if he had had a
month's start of the officers. But Cook is not the man to lose time in
hesitation. He spent the night in searching for some clue which would lead
to the detection of the villain, whoever he might be.
He learned enough during the night to decide him in a determination to
raid a house which stood near by. This house was occupied by several
persons, all of them of loose character. Among others who occupied it was
a worthless individual named George Corman, who was the "solid man" of
another inmate of the dwelling, a low prostitute called Mrs. Foster. The
fellow did not work for a living, but depended upon the earnings of this
woman for support. He was known to be none to good to steal, and it was
believed that he would commit murder if there was hope of reward. Cook
knew enough about this man to lead him to believe that the chances were
good for his being the murderer of Cheap John. He decided to investigate,
at any rate. Accordingly, in company with H. B. Haskell, then a special
officer in Denver, he repaired to the Corman residence early in the
morning succeeding the murderous assault. He found the front of the
building occupied by Corman and his woman, while in the rear premises
resided a Mrs. Mary Kerwin with her family.
The officers decided to investigate while the inmates of the house were
still asleep. They entered the yard by a back entrance, and as they came
up to the door found a hatchet lying upon the ground thoroughly besmeared
with blood. Here was certainly a pointer--the first important one
found--and it bid fair to lead to speedy results. The officers felt that
they had made a big discovery, and without further ado walked into the
house, where they met Mrs. Kerwin, of whom they demanded to know the name
of the owner of the hatchet. Her reply was that it was the property of
Corman.
Corman and the Foster woman were next approached. They did not deny the
ownership of the hatchet.
"Where did this blood come from?" demanded Cook.
The woman became the spokesman. "I killed a chicken last night," she said,
"and cut its head off with the hatchet."
"Chicken! chicken!" replied Cook. "Chickens are worth a dollar and a half
apiece in this country now, and I know you can't afford chickens. Sowbelly
is good enough for you."
The woman replied that she put on style occasionally herself.
When Cook asked where the feathers were she declared that they had been
thrown into the privy vault, while the bones had been burned in the stove.
A close search of the vault and of the ashes in the stove failed to reveal
any trace of the remains of the alleged chicken. Here were other strong
pointers. The arrest of Corman was decided upon. There seemed to be a
pretty fair case against him already developed, and Mr. Cook had
confidence in finding a great deal more testimony. Consequently he took
Corman into custody and locked him up.
George Hopkins was at that time an officer in Denver, and he was called
upon to aid in working up the case. He was sent to see Mrs. Kerwin and to
ascertain, if possible, whether she did not know more about it than had so
far been developed. Gen. Cook, himself, believed that she could tell the
entire story if she would. In this case, as in most others, he hit the
nail square on the head. The woman knew a great deal, and Hopkins was able
to prevail upon her to tell her story. Her revelation was startling
enough.
Mrs. Kerwin's sleeping apartments adjoined those of Corman and Mrs.
Foster, and there was only a thin board partition between the two rooms,
there being many cracks in the boards. On the night of the assault she had
heard Corman come in. She had already retired, and was supposed by him and
the Foster woman to be asleep, though she was not. He had appeared to be
considerably flurried, and had said to Mrs. Foster:
"Well, I hit the d----d old Jew, and I hit him hard, but I did not get
anything--not a cent. The officers came so quick that I couldn't move a
wheel, and had to run like the devil to get away."
As may be supposed, this disclosure had aroused the curiosity of the
listening woman. She was now wide awake, and was determined to hear all
that was to be said. She put her ear to an open crack, and then heard the
man tell his woman how he had come upon the Jew and struck him with his
hatchet. This he had no sooner done than John clutched him, the blood
spurting out of his fresh wound and covering his shirt. The garment, he
said, was then bloody. An examination by the two, which Mrs. Kerwin
witnessed, confirmed his statement. It was then decided between them that
the tell-tale garment must be disposed of. Corman accordingly took the
shirt off, and they stowed it away in a cooking vessel which they found in
the room, which Corman took to the back yard and buried, returning and
going to bed.
The officers having this story in their possession, began to look for the
hidden shirt. A snow had fallen in the early morning after it had been
buried, and they were compelled to look over almost the entire yard for it
before uncovering it, but they at last came upon the hidden article. It
was found snugly buried some eight inches below the surface, and when
brought out it was discovered to be pretty well bespattered with the
crimson fluid.
Thus the case was worked up by Gen. Cook. He had not rested until he had
probed the mystery to its foundation. It would seem that there could have
hardly been the least chance for Corman to escape the gallows. Strange as
it may appear to the reader, he not only was not hanged, but he was
allowed to go scot free.
There was then but one term of the district court held each year in
Denver, and it came in January. The trial of Corman came on in January,
1867. The crime was then fresh in the minds of the people, and the
proceedings were watched with very great interest. The jurors who sat in
the case were H. M. Goodrich, W. S. Peabody, Eli Daugherty, R. S. Permar,
Edward Bates, L. M. Sprague, C. M. Birdsall, Watson Holyer, W. S. Hurd, W.
H. Levain, Robert Tait and Dwight S. Thompson. The people were represented
by Hon. V. D. Markham, then prosecuting attorney, while Messrs. M.
Benedict, G. W. Chamberlain and ---- Bostwick appeared for the defense.
The case was ably presented on both sides, the defense relying principally
upon impeaching the testimony of Mrs. Kerwin, who was the most important
witness for the prosecution. They succeeded in making such, an impression
upon the mind of one of the jurors as to cause him to hold out for
acquittal against the other eleven, who favored a verdict of murder in the
first degree, the penalty for which would have been hanging. The obstinacy
of this one man resulted in the bringing in a report of disagreement by
the jury. The case was thus continued until the next term of court. By the
time this term convened Mrs. Kerwin had died, and Mr. Haskell had left the
city, and their testimony could not be obtained. Hence the case was
dismissed, and the murderer of Cheap John became a free man in 1868.
When Corman was turned out of jail he found Denver a very disagreeable
place of residence, as everybody believed him guilty of murder. He went to
Georgetown, where he soon became known as one of the worst sots of the
town, earning a scanty living by scrubbing out barrooms. Even his woman
deserted him.
Gen. Cook saw him in Georgetown in 1874, and asked why he did not tell all
about the murder of Cheap John.
"If I should do so," he replied, "they couldn't prove it on me."
Poor fellow! he met with a worse fate than death on the scaffold. There
was in those days an unused tunnel in the side of a mountain near
Georgetown, extending in about a hundred feet. The people of the town were
startled one quiet afternoon by a report of an explosion coming from the
direction of this tunnel, which seemed to them to be loud enough for the
bursting loose of a volcano. Almost the whole city was shocked.
The temporary bewilderment having subsided, an investigating committee was
organized to explore the tunnel. They went in with lights, and soon
discovered to their dismay that there was fresh flesh sticking to some of
the rocks of the wall. Other pieces of flesh, and some clothing and
fragments of bones were found scattered about. There was enough of the
clothes left to identify them as those of old Corman. He had gone into the
tunnel--for what purpose no one will probably ever know--and had found a
five-pound can of nitro-glycerine lying on the ground, and had evidently
picked it up to examine it, and, finding that it was nothing that he
wanted, had thrown it down, creating the explosion which had shocked the
town, and which tore his carcass into shreds.
People said it was Fate that did it. Who knows?
And this is the end of the story which began eight or nine years before,
with Gen. Cook's hearing a strange noise while crossing the Cherry creek
bridge. Strange, isn't it, how all these scoundrels meet their just
deserts? There are other laws than those which the courts deal with, and
superior to them. One of these prescribes punishment for the murderer. It
always comes sooner or later.
A TOWNFUL OF THIEVES.