FIRST VIGILANCE COMMITTEE
As soon as the Berrys were assured of the identity of the villains who
had robbed them they appealed to the people to assist in their capture.
The robbers had stripped them of all their hard earnings, and they had
the sympathy of every honest man in the community. Nothing more was
needed to kindle into a flame of popular excitement the long-pent-up
fires of smothered indignation. Public sentiment was clamorous for the
capture and punishment of the robbers. It gathered strength day by day,
until it became the all-absorbing topic everywhere. Men assembled on the
street corners, in the stores, in the saloons, and at the outside mining
camps to compare views and consult upon measures of relief. Meantime,
several parties whose faith in immediate action was stronger than in
consultation, set out in pursuit of the robbers.
From the fact that they had passed south of Lewiston it was believed
they had gone down the Columbia. Distributing themselves along the
different roads and trails in that direction, the pursuers made diligent
search for them in every nook and corner which could afford them a
hiding-place. Their diligence was successful. The robbers had separated,
but were arrested in detail,—Peoples at Walla Walla, Scott on Dry Creek,
near there, and English at Wallula, forty miles distant on the Columbia.
The only surprise they manifested upon being arrested was at the
temerity of their captors. In a community which had so long held them in
fear, any legal interference with their business was deemed by them an
outrage. They did not pause to inquire whether their reign was near its
termination, nor think that perhaps the people had decided as between
longer submission to their villainies and condign punishment for their
actual crimes. If they had, their efforts to escape would have been
immediate. As it was, they rested easy, and reflected savagely upon the
revenge in store for their captors after their friends had effected
their rescue.
They were taken in irons to Walla Walla. Judge Smith ordered their
removal to Florence for trial. Such was the indignation of the citizens
of Lewiston that on their arrival there it was determined they should be
tried by the people. All confidence in the law and the courts was lost.
Accordingly a committee was appointed to investigate the circumstances
of the robbery and declare the punishment. The prisoners were taken in
charge by the committee, and confined in an unfinished building on the
bank of the Clearwater, which was strongly guarded. To make their work
thorough and terrify others of the band who were known to be prowling
about the saloons of Lewiston, a number of persons were appointed, with
instructions to effect their immediate arrest. In anticipation of this
course all suspected persons except one escaped by flight. This one,
known by the name of “Happy Harry,” was a simple fellow, who denied all
association with the band, confessed to a few petty offences, and was
discharged on condition that he would instantly leave and never return
to the country. He has never been heard of since.
One of the shrewdest of the gang, George Lane, who from a personal
deformity was called “Club Foot George,” well known as a robber and
horse-thief, escaped arrest by surrendering himself to the commandant of
Fort Lapwai (a United States post twelve miles distant), who confined
him in the guard-house.
The final disposition of the three villains in custody was delayed until
the next day. A strong guard of well-armed men surrounded their prison.
Just after midnight the sleeping inhabitants of the town were roused by
several shots fired in the direction of the place of confinement. In a
few minutes the streets were filled with citizens. A former friend of
Peoples, one Marshall, who kept a hotel in town, had, in attempting his
rescue, fired upon the guard. In return he received a shot in his arm,
and was prostrated by a blow from a clubbed musket. The cause of the
_mêlée_ being explained, the people withdrew, leaving the sentinels at
their posts.
The next morning at an early hour the people gathered around the prison.
The guards were gone and the door ajar. Unable to restrain their
curiosity, and fearful that the robbers had been rescued, they pushed
the door wide open. There, hanging by the neck, stark and cold, they
beheld the bodies of the three desperadoes. Justice had been
anticipated, and the first Vigilance Committee of the northern mines had
commenced its work. No one knew or cared who had done it, but all felt
that it was right, and the community breathed freer than at any former
period of its history.
Intelligence of the execution, with the usual exaggeration, spread far
and wide through the mining camps. It was received with approval by the
sober citizens, but filled the robber horde with consternation. Charley
Harper, while on his way from Florence to Lewiston to gather full
particulars, met a mountaineer.
“Stranger,” he inquired, “what’s the news?”
“I s’pose you’ve heard about the hanging of them fellers?”
“Heard something. What’s the particulars?”
“Well, Bill Peoples, Dave English, and Nels Scott have gone in. They
strung ’em up like dried salmon. Happy Harry got out of the way in time;
but if they get Club Foot George, his life won’t be worth a cent.
They’re after a lot more of ’em up in Florence.”
“Do you know who all they’re after?” asked Harper.
“Yes. Charley Harper’s the big chief they’re achin’ for the most, but
the story now is that he’s already hanged. A feller went into town day
before yesterday, and said he saw him strung up out here on Camas
Prairie. Did you hear anything of it back on the road?”
Harper needed no further information. He felt that the country was too
hot to hold him, and that the bloodhounds were on his track. As soon as
the miner was out of sight, he turned to the right, crossed the
Clearwater some miles above Lewiston, and pursued a trail to Colville on
the Upper Columbia, where we will take leave of him for the present.