CALIFORNIA
1855-1857
During the winter of 1854-'55, I received frequent intimations in
my letters from the St. Louis house, that the bank of Page, Bacon &
Co. was in trouble, growing out of their relations to the Ohio &
Mississippi Railroad, to the contractors for building which they
had made large advances, to secure which they had been compelled to
take, as it were, an assignment of the contract itself, and finally
to assume all the liabilities of the contractors. Then they had to
borrow money in New York, and raise other money from time to time,
in the purchase of iron and materials for the road, and to pay the
hands. The firm in St. Louis and that in San Francisco were
different, having different partners, and the St. Louis house
naturally pressed the San Francisco firm to ship largely of
"gold-dust," which gave them a great name; also to keep as large a
balance as possible in New York to sustain their credit. Mr. Page
was a very wealthy man, but his wealth consisted mostly of land and
property in St. Louis. He was an old man, and a good one; had been
a baker, and knew little of banking as a business. This part of
his general business was managed exclusively by his son-in-law,
Henry D. Bacon, who was young, handsome, and generally popular.
How he was drawn into that affair of the Ohio & Mississippi road I
have no means of knowing, except by hearsay. Their business in New
York was done through the American Exchange Bank, and through
Duncan, Sherman & Co. As we were rival houses, the St. Louis
partners removed our account from the American Exchange Bank to the
Metropolitan Bank; and, as Wadsworth & Sheldon had failed, I was
instructed to deal in time bills, and in European exchange, with
Schnchardt & Gebhard, bankers in Nassau Street.
In California the house of Page, Bacon & Co. was composed of the
same partners as in St. Louis, with the addition of Henry Haight,
Judge Chambers, and young Frank Page. The latter had charge of the
"branch" in Sacramento. Haight was the real head-man, but he was
too fond of lager-beer to be in trusted with so large a business.
Beyond all comparison, Page, Bacon & Co. were the most prominent
bankers in California in 1853-'55. Though I had notice of danger
in that quarter, from our partners in St. Louis, nobody in
California doubted their wealth and stability. They must have had,
during that winter, an average deposit account of nearly two
million dollars, of which seven hundred thousand dollars was in
"certificates of deposit," the most stable of all accounts in a
bank. Thousands of miners invested their earnings in such
certificates, which they converted into drafts on New York, when
they were ready to go home or wanted to send their "pile" to their
families. Adams & Co. were next in order, because of their
numerous offices scattered throughout the mining country. A
gentleman named Haskell had been in charge of Adams & Co. in San
Francisco, but in the winter of 1854-'55 some changes were made,
and the banking department had been transferred to a magnificent
office in Halleck's new Metropolitan Block. James King of Wm. had
discontinued business on his own account, and been employed by
Adams & Co. as their cashier and banker, and Isaiah C. Wood had
succeeded Haskell in chief control of the express department.
Wells, Fargo & Co. were also bankers as well as expressmen, and
William J. Pardee was the resident partner.
As the mail-steamer came in on February 17, 1855, according to her
custom, she ran close to the Long Wharf (Meiggs's) on North Beach,
to throw ashore the express-parcels of news for speedy delivery.
Some passenger on deck called to a man of his acquaintance standing
on the wharf, that Page & Bacon had failed in New York. The news
spread like wild-fire, but soon it was met by the newspaper
accounts to the effect that some particular acceptances of Page &
Bacon, of St. Louis, in the hands of Duncan, Sherman & Co., in New
York, had gone to protest. All who had balances at Page, Bacon &
Co.'s, or held certificates of deposit, were more or less alarmed,
wanted to secure their money, and a general excitement pervaded the
whole community. Word was soon passed round that the matter
admitted of explanation, viz., that the two houses were distinct
and separate concerns, that every draft of the California house had
been paid in New York, and would continue to be paid. It was
expected that this assertion would quiet the fears of the
California creditors, but for the next three days there was a
steady "run" on that bank. Page, Bacon & Co. stood the first day's
run very well, and, as I afterward learned, paid out about six
hundred thousand dollars in gold coin. On the 20th of February
Henry Height came to our bank, to see what help we were willing to
give him; but I was out, and Nisbet could not answer positively for
the firm. Our condition was then very strong. The deposit account
was about six hundred thousand dollars, and we had in our vault
about five hundred thousand dollars in coin and bullion, besides an
equal amount of good bills receivable. Still I did not like to
weaken ourselves to help others; but in a most friendly spirit,
that night after bank-hours, I went down to Page, Bacon & Co., and
entered their office from the rear. I found in the cashier's room
Folsom, Parrott, Dewey and Payne, Captain Ritchie, Donohue, and
others, citizens and friends of the house, who had been called in
for consultation. Passing into the main office, where all the
book-keepers, tellers, etc., with gas-lights, were busy writing up
the day's work, I found Mr. Page, Henry Height, and Judge Chambers.
I spoke to Height, saying that I was sorry I had been out when he
called at our bank, and had now come to see him in the most
friendly spirit. Height had evidently been drinking, and said
abruptly that "all the banks would break," that "no bank could
instantly pay all its obligations," etc. I answered he could speak
for himself, but not for me; that I had come to offer to buy with
cash a fair proportion of his bullion, notes, and bills; but, if
they were going to fail, I would not be drawn in. Height's manner
was extremely offensive, but Mr. Page tried to smooth it over,
saying they had had a bad day's run, and could not answer for the
result till their books were written up.
I passed back again into the room where the before-named gentlemen
were discussing some paper which lay before them, and was going to
pass out, when Captain Folsom, who was an officer of the army, a
class-mate and intimate friend of mine, handed me the paper the
contents of which they were discussing. It was very short, and in
Henry Haight's handwriting, pretty much in these terms: "We, the
undersigned property-holders of San Francisco, having personally
examined the books, papers, etc., of Page, Bacon & Co., do hereby
certify that the house is solvent and able to pay all its debts,"
etc. Height had drawn up and asked them to sign this paper, with
the intention to publish it in the next morning's papers, for
effect. While I was talking with Captain Folsom, Height came into
the room to listen. I admitted that the effect of such a
publication would surely be good, and would probably stave off
immediate demand till their assets could be in part converted or
realized; but I naturally inquired of Folsom, "Have you personally
examined the accounts, as herein recited, and the assets, enough to
warrant your signature to this paper?" for, "thereby you in effect
become indorsers." Folsom said they had not, when Height turned
on me rudely and said, "Do you think the affairs of such a house as
Page, Bacon & Co. can be critically examined in an hour?" I
answered: "These gentlemen can do what they please, but they have
twelve hours before the bank will open on the morrow, and if the
ledger is written up" (as I believed it was or could be by
midnight), "they can (by counting the coin, bullion on hand, and
notes or stocks of immediate realization) approximate near enough
for them to indorse for the remainder." But Height pooh-poohed me,
and I left. Folsom followed me out, told me he could not afford to
imperil all he had, and asked my advice. I explained to him that
my partner Nisbet had been educated and trained in that very house
of Page, Bacon & Co.; that we kept our books exactly as they did;
that every day the ledger was written up, so that from it one could
see exactly how much actual money was due the depositors and
certificates; and then by counting the money in the vault,
estimating the bullion on hand, which, though not actual money,
could easily be converted into coin, and supplementing these
amounts by "bills receivable," they ought to arrive at an
approximate-result. After Folsom had left me, John Parrott also
stopped and talked with me to the same effect. Next morning I
looked out for the notice, but no such notice appeared in the
morning papers, and I afterward learned that, on Parrott and Folsom
demanding an actual count of the money in the vault, Haight angrily
refused unless they would accept his word for it, when one after
the other declined to sign his paper.
The run on Page, Bacon & Co. therefore continued throughout the
21st, and I expected all day to get an invitation to close our bank
for the next day, February 22, which we could have made a holiday
by concerted action; but each banker waited for Page, Bacon & Co.
to ask for it, and, no such circular coming, in the then state of
feeling no other banker was willing to take the initiative. On the
morning of February 22, 1855, everybody was startled by receiving a
small slip of paper, delivered at all the houses, on which was
printed a short notice that, for "want of coin," Page, Bacon & Co.
found it necessary to close their bank for a short time. Of
course, we all knew the consequences, and that every other bank in
San Francisco would be tried. During the 22d we all kept open, and
watched our depositors closely; but the day was generally observed
by the people as a holiday, and the firemen paraded the streets of
San Francisco in unusual strength. But, on writing up our books
that night, we found that our deposit account had diminished about
sixty-five thousand dollars. Still, there was no run on us, or any
other of the banks, that day; yet, observing little knots of men on
the street, discussing the state of the banks generally, and
overhearing Haight's expression quoted, that, in case of the
failure of Page, Bacon & Co., "all the other banks would break," I
deemed it prudent to make ready. For some days we had refused all
loans and renewals, and we tried, without, success, some of our
call-loans; but, like Hotspur's spirits, they would not come.
Our financial condition on that day (February 22, 1855) was: Due
depositors and demand certificates, five hundred and twenty
thousand dollars; to meet which, we had in the vault: coin, three
hundred and eighty thousand dollars; bullion, seventy-five thousand
dollars; and bills receivable, about six hundred thousand dollars.
Of these, at least one hundred thousand dollars were on demand,
with stock collaterals. Therefore, for the extent of our business,
we were stronger than the Bank of England, or any bank in New York
City.
Before daylight next morning, our door-bell was rung, and I was
called down-stairs by E. Casserly, Esq. (an eminent lawyer of the
day, since United States Senator), who informed me he had just come
up from the office of Adams & Co., to tell me that their affairs
were in such condition that they would not open that morning at
all; and that this, added to the suspension of Page, Bacon & Co.,
announced the day before, would surely cause a general run on all
the banks. I informed him that I expected as much, and was
prepared for it.
In going down to the bank that morning, I found Montgomery Street
full; but, punctually to the minute, the bank opened, and in rushed
the crowd. As usual, the most noisy and clamorous were men and
women who held small certificates; still, others with larger
accounts were in the crowd, pushing forward for their balances.
All were promptly met and paid. Several gentlemen of my personal
acquaintance merely asked my word of honor that their money was
safe, and went away; others, who had large balances, and no
immediate use for coin, gladly accepted gold-bars, whereby we paid
out the seventy-five thousand dollars of bullion, relieving the
coin to that amount.
Meantime, rumors from the street came pouring in that Wright & Co.
had failed; then Wells, Fargo & Co.; then Palmer, Cook & Co., and
indeed all, or nearly all, the banks of the city; and I was told
that parties on the street were betting high, first, that we would
close our doors at eleven o'clock; then twelve, and so on; but we
did not, till the usual hour that night. We had paid every demand,
and still had a respectable amount left.
This run on the bank (the only one I ever experienced) presented
all the features, serious and comical, usual to such occasions. At
our counter happened that identical case, narrated of others, of
the Frenchman, who was nearly squeezed to death in getting to the
counter, and, when he received his money, did not know what to do
with it. "If you got the money, I no want him; but if you no got
him, I want it like the devil!"
Toward the close of the day, some of our customers deposited,
rather ostentatiously, small amounts, not aggregating more than
eight or ten thousand dollars. Book-keepers and tellers were kept
at work to write up the books; and these showed:
Due depositors and certificates, about one hundred and twenty
thousand dollars, for which remained of coin about fifty thousand
dollars. I resolved not to sleep until I had collected from those
owing the bank a part of their debts; for I was angry with them
that they had stood back and allowed the panic to fall on the banks
alone. Among these were Captain Folsom, who owed us twenty-five
thousand dollars, secured by a mortgage on the American Theatre and
Tehama Hotel; James Smiley, contractor for building the
Custom-House, who owed us two notes of twenty thousand and sixteen
thousand dollars, for which we held, as collateral, two acceptances
of the collector of the port, Major R. P. Hammond, for twenty
thousand dollars each; besides other private parties that I need
not name. The acceptances given to Smiley were for work done on
the Custom-House, but could not be paid until the work was actually
laid in the walls, and certified by Major Tower, United States
Engineers; but Smiley had an immense amount of granite, brick,
iron, etc., on the ground, in advance of construction, and these
acceptances were given him expressly that he might raise money
thereon for the payment of such materials.
Therefore, as soon as I got my dinner, I took my saddle-horse, and
rode to Captain Folsom's house, where I found him in great pain and
distress, mental and physical. He was sitting in a chair, and
bathing his head with a sponge. I explained to him the object of
my visit, and he said he had expected it, and had already sent his
agent, Van Winkle, down-town, with instructions to raise what money
he could at any cost; but he did not succeed in raising a cent. So
great was the shock to public confidence, that men slept on their
money, and would not loan it for ten per cent. a week, on any
security whatever--even on mint certificates, which were as good as
gold, and only required about ten days to be paid in coin by the
United States Mint. I then rode up to Hammond's house, on Rincon
Hill, and found him there. I explained to him exactly Smiley's
affairs, and only asked him to pay one of his acceptances. He
inquired, "Why not both?" I answered that was so much the better;
it would put me under still greater obligations. He then agreed to
meet me at our bank at 10 P.M. I sent word to others that I
demanded them to pay what they could on their paper, and then
returned to the bank, to meet Hammond. In due time, he came down
with Palmer (of Palmer, Cook & Co.), and there he met Smiley, who
was, of course, very anxious to retire his notes. We there
discussed the matter fully, when Hammond said, "Sherman, give me up
my two acceptances, and I will substitute therefor my check of
forty thousand dollars," with "the distinct understanding that, if
the money is not needed by you, it shall be returned to me, and the
transaction then to remain statu quo." To this there was a general
assent. Nisbet handed him his two acceptances, and he handed me
his check, signed as collector of the port, on Major J. R. Snyder,
United States Treasurer, for forty thousand dollars. I afterward
rode out, that night, to Major Snyder's house on North Beach, saw
him, and he agreed to meet me at 8 a.m. next day, at the United
States Mint, and to pay the check, so that I could have the money
before the bank opened. The next morning, as agreed on, we met,
and he paid me the check in two sealed bags of gold-coin, each
marked twenty thousand dollars, which I had carried to the bank,
but never opened them, or even broke the seals.
That morning our bank opened as usual, but there was no appearance
of a continuation of the "run;" on the contrary, money began to
come back on deposit, so that by night we had a considerable
increase, and this went on from day to day, till nearly the old
condition of things returned. After about three days, finding I
had no use for the money obtained on Hammond's check, I took the
identical two bags back to the cashier of the Custom-House, and
recovered the two acceptances which had been surrendered as
described; and Smiley's two notes were afterward paid in their due
course, out of the cash received on those identical acceptances.
But, years afterward, on settling with Hammond for the Custom-House
contract when completed, there was a difference, and Smiley sued
Lucas, Turner & Co. for money had and received for his benefit,
being the identical forty thousand dollars herein explained, but he
lost his case. Hammond, too, was afterward removed from office,
and indicted in part for this transaction. He was tried before the
United States Circuit Court, Judge McAlister presiding, for a
violation of the sub-Treasury Act, but was acquitted. Our bank,
having thus passed so well through the crisis, took at once a first
rank; but these bank failures had caused so many mercantile losses,
and had led to such an utter downfall in the value of real estate,
that everybody lost more or less money by bad debts, by
depreciation of stocks and collaterals, that became unsalable, if
not worthless.
About this time (viz., February, 1855) I had exchanged my house on
Green, street, with Mr. Sloat, for the half of a fifty-vara lot on
Harrison Street, between Fremont and First, on which there was a
small cottage, and I had contracted for the building of a new
frame-house thereon, at six thousand dollars. This house was
finished on the 9th of April, and my family moved into it at once.
For some time Mrs. Sherman had been anxious to go home to
Lancaster, Ohio, where we had left our daughter Minnie, with her
grandparents, and we arranged that S. M. Bowman, Esq., and wife,
should move into our new house and board us, viz., Lizzie, Willie
with the nurse Biddy, and myself, for a fair consideration. It so
happened that two of my personal friends, Messrs. Winters and
Cunningham of Marysville, and a young fellow named Eagan, now a
captain in the Commissary Department, were going East in the
steamer of the middle of April, and that Mr.. William H.
Aspinwall, of New York, and Mr. Chauncey, of Philadelphia, were
also going back; and they all offered to look to the personal
comfort of Mrs. Sherman on the voyage. They took passage in the
steamer Golden Age (Commodore Watkins), which sailed on April 17,
1855. Their passage down the coast was very pleasant till within a
day's distance of Panama, when one bright moonlit night, April
29th, the ship, running at full speed, between the Islands Quibo
and Quicara, struck on a sunken reef, tore out a streak in her
bottom, and at once began to fill with water. Fortunately she did
not sink fast, but swung off into deep water, and Commodore Watkins
happening to be on deck at the moment, walking with Mr. Aspinwall,
learning that the water was rushing in with great rapidity, gave
orders for a full head of steam, and turned the vessel's bow
straight for the Island Quicara. The water rose rapidly in the
hold, the passengers were all assembled, fearful of going down, the
fires were out, and the last revolution of the wheels made, when
her bow touched gently on the beach, and the vessel's stern sank in
deep water. Lines were got out, and the ship held in an upright
position, so that the passengers were safe, and but little
incommoded. I have often heard Mrs. Sherman tell of the boy Eagan,
then about fourteen years old, coming to her state-room, and
telling to her not to be afraid, as he was a good swimmer; but on
coming out into the cabin, partially dressed, she felt more
confidence in the cool manner, bearing, and greater strength of Mr.
Winters. There must have been nearly a thousand souls on board at
the time, few of whom could have been saved had the steamer gone
down in mid-channel, which surely would have resulted, had not
Commodore Watkins been on deck, or had he been less prompt in his
determination to beach his ship. A sailboat was dispatched toward
Panama, which luckily met the steamer John T. Stephens, just coming
out of the bay, loaded with about a thousand passengers bound for
San Francisco, and she at once proceeded to the relief of the
Golden Age. Her passengers were transferred in small boats to the
Stephens, which vessel, with her two thousand people crowded
together with hardly standing-room, returned to Panama, whence the
passengers for the East proceeded to their destination without
further delay. Luckily for Mrs. Sherman, Purser Goddard, an old
Ohio friend of ours, was on the Stephens, and most kindly gave up
his own room to her, and such lady friends as she included in her
party. The Golden Age was afterward partially repaired at Quicara,
pumped out, and steamed to Panama, when, after further repairs, she
resumed her place in the line. I think she is still in existence,
but Commodore Watkins afterward lost his life in China, by falling
down a hatchway.
Mrs. Sherman returned in the latter part of November of the same
year, when Mr. and Mrs. Bowman, who meantime had bought a lot next
to us and erected a house thereon, removed to it, and we thus
continued close neighbors and friends until we left the country for
good in 1857.
During the summer of 1856, in San Francisco, occurred one of those
unhappy events, too common to new countries, in which I became
involved in spite of myself.
William Neely Johnson was Governor of California, and resided at
Sacramento City; General John E. Wool commanded the Department of
California, having succeeded General Hitchcock, and had his
headquarters at Benicia; and a Mr. Van Ness was mayor of the city.
Politics had become a regular and profitable business, and
politicians were more than suspected of being corrupt. It was
reported and currently believed that the sheriff (Scannell) had
been required to pay the Democratic Central Committee a hundred
thousand dollars for his nomination, which was equivalent to an
election, for an office of the nominal salary of twelve thousand
dollars a year for four years. In the election all sorts of
dishonesty were charged and believed, especially of "ballot-box
stuffing," and too generally the better classes avoided the
elections and dodged jury-duty, so that the affairs of the city
government necessarily passed into the hands of a low set of
professional politicians. Among them was a man named James Casey,
who edited a small paper, the printing office of which was in a
room on the third floor of our banking office. I hardly knew him
by sight, and rarely if ever saw his paper; but one day Mr. Sather,
of the excellent banking firm of Drexel, Sather & Church, came to
me, and called my attention to an article in Casey's paper so full
of falsehood and malice, that we construed it as an effort to
black-mail the banks generally. At that time we were all laboring
to restore confidence, which had been so rudely shaken by the
panic, and I went up-stairs, found Casey, and pointed out to him
the objectionable nature of his article, told him plainly that I
could not tolerate his attempt to print and circulate slanders in
our building, and, if he repeated it, I would cause him and his
press to be thrown out of the windows. He took the hint and moved
to more friendly quarters. I mention this fact, to show my
estimate of the man, who became a figure in the drama I am about to
describe. James King of Wm., as before explained, was in 1853 a
banker on his own account, but some time in 1854 he had closed out
his business, and engaged with Adams & Co. as cashier. When this
firm failed, he, in common with all the employees, was thrown out
of employment, and had to look around for something else. He
settled down to the publication of an evening paper, called the
Bulletin, and, being a man of fine manners and address, he at once
constituted himself the champion of society against the public and
private characters whom he saw fit to arraign.
As might have been expected, this soon brought him into the usual
newspaper war with other editors, and especially with Casey, and
epithets a la "Eatanswill" were soon bandying back and forth
between them. One evening of May, 1856, King published, in the
Bulletin, copies of papers procured from New York, to show that
Casey had once been sentenced to the State penitentiary at Sing
Sing. Casey took mortal offense, and called at the Bulletin
office, on the corner of Montgomery and Merchant Streets, where he
found King, and violent words passed between them, resulting in
Casey giving King notice that he would shoot him on sight. King
remained in his office till about 5 or 6 p.m., when he started
toward his home on Stockton Street, and, as he neared the corner of
Washington, Casey approached him from the opposite direction,
called to him, and began firing. King had on a short cloak, and in
his breast-pocket a small pistol, which he did not use. One of
Casey's shots struck him high up in the breast, from which he
reeled, was caught by some passing friend, and carried into the
express-office on the corner, where he was laid on the counter; and
a surgeon sent for. Casey escaped up Washington Street, went to
the City Hall, and delivered himself to the sheriff (Scannell), who
conveyed him to jail and locked him in a cell. Meantime, the news
spread like wildfire, and all the city was in commotion, for grog
was very popular. Nisbet, who boarded with us on Harrison Street,
had been delayed at the bank later than usual, so that he happened
to be near at the time, and, when he came out to dinner, he brought
me the news of this affair, and said that there was every
appearance of a riot down-town that night. This occurred toward
the evening of May 14, 1856.
It so happened that, on the urgent solicitation of Van Winkle and
of Governor Johnson; I had only a few days before agreed to accept
the commission of major-general of the Second Division of Militia,
embracing San Francisco. I had received the commission, but
had not as yet formally accepted it, or even put myself in
communication with the volunteer companies of the city. Of these,
at that moment of time, there was a company of artillery with four
guns, commanded by a Captain Johns, formerly of the army, and two
or three uniformed companies of infantry. After dinner I went down
town to see what was going on; found that King had been removed to
a room in the Metropolitan Block; that his life was in great peril;
that Casey was safe in jail, and the sheriff had called to his
assistance a posse of the city police, some citizens, and one of
the militia companies. The people were gathered in groups on the
streets, and the words "Vigilance Committee" were freely spoken,
but I saw no signs of immediate violence. The next morning, I
again went to the jail, and found all things quiet, but the militia
had withdrawn. I then went to the City Hall, saw the mayor, Van
Ness, and some of the city officials, agreed to do what I could to
maintain order with such militia as were on hand, and then formally
accepted the commission, and took the "oath."
In 1851 (when I was not in California) there had been a Vigilance
Committee, and it was understood that its organization still
existed. All the newspapers took ground in favor of the Vigilance
Committee, except the Herald (John Nugent, editor), and nearly all
the best people favored that means of redress. I could see they
were organizing, hiring rendezvous, collecting arms, etc., without
concealment. It was soon manifest that the companies of volunteers
would go with the "committee," and that the public authorities
could not rely on them for aid or defense. Still, there were a
good many citizens who contended that, if the civil authorities
were properly sustained by the people at large, they could and
would execute the law. But the papers inflamed the public mind,
and the controversy spread to the country. About the third day
after the shooting of King, Governor Johnson telegraphed me that he
would be down in the evening boat, and asked me to meet him on
arrival for consultation. I got C. H. Garrison to go with me, and
we met the Governor and his brother on the wharf, and walked up to
the International Hotel on Jackson Street, above Montgomery. We
discussed the state of affairs fully; and Johnson, on learning that
his particular friend, William T. Coleman, was the president of the
Vigilance Committee, proposed to go and see him. En route we
stopped at King's room, ascertained that he was slowly sinking, and
could not live long; and then near midnight we walked to the
Turnverein Hall, where the committee was known to be sitting in
consultation. This hall was on Bush Street, at about the
intersection of Stockton. It was all lighted up within, but the
door was locked. The Governor knocked at the door, and on inquiry
from inside "Who's there?"--gave his name. After some delay we
were admitted into a sort of vestibule, beyond which was a large
hall, and we could hear the suppressed voices of a multitude. We
were shown into a bar-room to the right, when the Governor asked to
see Coleman. The man left us, went into the main hall, and soon
returned with Coleman, who was pale and agitated. After shaking
hands all round, the Governor said, "Coleman, what the devil is the
matter here?" Coleman said, "Governor, it is time this shooting on
our streets should stop." The Governor replied, "I agree with you
perfectly, and have come down, from Sacramento to assist." Coleman
rejoined that "the people were tired of it, and had no faith in the
officers of the law." A general conversation then followed, in
which it was admitted that King would die, and that Casey must be
executed; but the manner of execution was the thing to be settled,
Coleman contending that the people would do it without trusting the
courts or the sheriff. It so happened that at that time Judge
Norton was on the bench of the court having jurisdiction, and he
was universally recognized as an able and upright man, whom no one
could or did mistrust; and it also happened that a grand-jury was
then in session. Johnson argued that the time had passed in
California for mobs and vigilance committees, and said if Coleman
and associates would use their influence to support the law, he
(the Governor) would undertake that, as soon as King died, the
grand-jury should indict, that Judge Norton would try the murderer,
and the whole proceeding should be as speedy as decency would
allow. Then Coleman said "the people had no confidence in
Scannell, the sheriff," who was, he said, in collusion with the
rowdy element of San Francisco. Johnson then offered to be
personally responsible that Casey should be safely guarded, and
should be forthcoming for trial and execution at the proper time.
I remember very well Johnson's assertion that he had no right to
make these stipulations, and maybe no power to fulfill them; but he
did it to save the city and state from the disgrace of a mob.
Coleman disclaimed that the vigilance organization was a "mob,"
admitted that the proposition of the Governor was fair, and all he
or any one should ask; and added, if we would wait awhile, he would
submit it to the council, and bring back an answer.
We waited nearly an hour, and could hear the hum of voices
in the hall, but no words, when Coleman came back, accompanied by a
committee, of which I think the two brothers Arrington, Thomas
Smiley the auctioneer, Seymour, Truett, and others, were members.
The whole conversation was gone over again, and the Governor's
proposition was positively agreed to, with this further condition,
that the Vigilance Committee should send into the jail a small
force of their own men, to make certain that Casey should not be
carried off or allowed to escape.
The Governor, his brother William, Garrison, and I, then went up to
the jail, where we found the sheriff and his posse comitatus of
police and citizens. These were styled the "Law-and-Order party,"
and some of them took offense that the Governor should have held
communication with the "damned rebels," and several of them left
the jail; but the sheriff seemed to agree with the Governor that
what he had done was right and best; and, while we were there, some
eight or ten armed men arrived from the Vigilance Committee, and
were received by the sheriff (Scannell) as a part of his regular
posse.
The Governor then, near daylight, went to his hotel, and I to my
house for a short sleep. Next day I was at the bank, as usual,
when, about noon the Governor called, and asked me to walk with him
down-street He said he had just received a message from the
Vigilance Committee to the effect that they were not bound by
Coleman's promise not to do any thing till the regular trial by
jury should be had, etc. He was with reason furious, and asked me
to go with him to Truett's store, over which the Executive
Committee was said to be in session. We were admitted to a
front-room up-stairs, and heard voices in the back-room. The
Governor inquired for Coleman, but he was not forthcoming. Another
of the committee, Seymour, met us, denied in toto the promise of
the night before, and the Governor openly accused him of treachery
and falsehood.
The quarrel became public, and the newspapers took it up, both
parties turning on the Governor; one, the Vigilantes, denying the
promise made by Coleman, their president; and the other, the
"Law-and-Order party," refusing any farther assistance, because
Johnson had stooped to make terms with rebels. At all events, he
was powerless, and had to let matters drift to a conclusion.
King died about Friday, May 20th, and the funeral was appointed for
the next Sunday. Early on that day the Governor sent for me at my
house. I found him on the roof of the International, from which we
looked down on the whole city, and more especially the face of
Telegraph Hill, which was already covered with a crowd of people,
while others were moving toward the jail on Broadway. Parties of
armed men, in good order, were marching by platoons in the same
direction; and formed in line along Broadway, facing the jail-door.
Soon a small party was seen to advance to this door, and knock; a
parley ensued, the doors were opened, and Casey was led out. In a
few minutes another prisoner was brought out, who, proved to be
Cora, a man who had once been tried for killing Richardson, the
United States Marshal, when the jury disagreed, and he was awaiting
a new trial. These prisoners were placed in carriages, and
escorted by the armed force down to the rooms of the Vigilance
Committee, through the principal streets of the city. The day was
exceedingly beautiful, and the whole proceeding was orderly in the
extreme. I was under the impression that Casey and Cora were
hanged that same Sunday, but was probably in error; but in a very
few days they were hanged by the neck--dead--suspended from beams
projecting from the windows of the committee's rooms, without other
trial than could be given in secret, and by night.
We all thought the matter had ended there, and accordingly the
Governor returned to Sacramento in disgust, and I went about my
business. But it soon became manifest that the Vigilance Committee
had no intention to surrender the power thus usurped. They took a
building on Clay Street, near Front, fortified it, employed guards
and armed sentinels, sat in midnight council, issued writs of
arrest and banishment, and utterly ignored all authority but their
own. A good many men were banished and forced to leave the
country, but they were of that class we could well spare. Yankee
Sullivan, a prisoner in their custody, committed suicide, and a
feeling of general insecurity pervaded the city. Business was
deranged; and the Bulletin, then under control of Tom King, a
brother of James, poured out its abuse on some of our best men, as
well as the worst. Governor Johnson, being again appealed to,
concluded to go to work regularly, and telegraphed me about the 1st
of June to meet him at General Wool's headquarters at Benicia that
night. I went up, and we met at the hotel where General Wool was
boarding. Johnson had with him his Secretary of State. We
discussed the state of the country generally, and I had agreed that
if Wool would give us arms and ammunition out of the United States
Arsenal at Benicia, and if Commodore Farragat, of the navy,
commanding the navy-yard on Mare Island, would give us a ship, I
would call out volunteers, and, when a sufficient number had
responded, I would have the arms come down from Benicia in the
ship, arm my men, take possession of a thirty-two-pound-gun battery
at the Marine Hospital on Rincon Point, thence command a dispersion
of the unlawfully-armed force of the Vigilance Committee, and
arrest some of the leaders.
We played cards that night, carrying on a conversation, in which
Wool insisted on a proclamation commanding the Vigilance Committee
to disperse, etc., and he told us how he had on some occasion, as
far back as 1814, suppressed a mutiny on the Northern frontier. I
did not understand him to make any distinct promise of assistance
that night, but he invited us to accompany him on an inspection of
the arsenal the next day, which we did. On handling some rifled
muskets in the arsenal storehouse he asked me how they would answer
our purpose. I said they were the very things, and that we did not
want cartridge boxes or belts, but that I would have the cartridges
carried in the breeches-pockets, and the caps in the vestpockets.
I knew that there were stored in that arsenal four thousand
muskets, for I recognized the boxes which we had carried out in the
Lexington around Cape Horn in 1846. Afterward we all met at the
quarters of Captain D. R. Jones of the army, and I saw the
Secretary of State, D. F. Douglass, Esq., walk out with General
Wool in earnest conversation, and this Secretary of State afterward
asserted that Wool there and then promised us the arms and
ammunition, provided the Governor would make his proclamation for
the committee to disperse, and that I should afterward call out the
militia, etc. On the way back to the hotel at Benicia, General
Wool, Captain Callendar of the arsenal, and I, were walking side by
side, and I was telling him (General Wool) that I would also need
some ammunition for the thirty-two-pound guns then in position at
Rineon Point, when Wool turned to Callendar and inquired, "Did I
not order those guns to be brought away?" Callendar said "Yes,
general. I made a requisition on the quartermaster for
transportation, but his schooner has been so busy that the guns are
still there." Then said Wool: "Let them remain; we may have use for
them." I therefrom inferred, of course, that it was all agreed to
so far as he was concerned.
Soon after we had reached the hotel, we ordered a buggy, and
Governor Johnson and I drove to Vallejo, six miles, crossed over to
Mare Island, and walked up to the commandant's house, where we
found Commodore Farragut and his family. We stated our business
fairly, but the commodore answered very frankly that he had no
authority, without orders from his department, to take any part in
civil broils; he doubted the wisdom of the attempt; said he had no
ship available except the John Adams, Captain Boutwell, and that
she needed repairs. But he assented at last, to the proposition to
let the sloop John Adams drop down abreast of the city after
certain repairs, to lie off there for moral effect, which afterward
actually occurred.
We then returned to Benicia, and Wool's first question was, "What
luck?" We answered, "Not much," and explained what Commodore
Farragut could and would do, and that, instead of having a naval
vessel, we would seize and use one of the Pacific Mail Company's
steamers, lying at their dock in Benicia, to carry down to San
Francisco the arms and munitions when the time came.
As the time was then near at hand for the arrival of the evening
boats, we all walked down to the wharf together, where I told
Johnson that he could not be too careful; that I had not heard
General Wool make a positive promise of assistance.
Upon this, Johnson called General Wool to one side, and we three
drew together. Johnson said: "General Wool, General Sherman is
very particular, and wants to know exactly what you propose to do."
Wool answered: "I understand, Governor, that in the first place a
writ of Habeas corpus will be issued commanding the jailers of the
Vigilance Committee to produce the body of some one of the
prisoners held by them (which, of course, will be refused); that
you then issue your proclamation commanding them to disperse, and,
failing this, you will call out the militia, and command General
Sherman with it to suppress the Vigilance Committee as an unlawful
body;" to which the Governor responded, "Yes." "Then," said Wool,
"on General Sherman's making his requisition, approved by you, I
will order the issue of the necessary arms and ammunition." I
remember well that I said, emphatically: "That is all I want.
--Now, Governor, you may go ahead." We soon parted; Johnson and
Douglas taking the boat to Sacramento, and I to San Francisco.
The Chief-Justice, Terry, came to San Francisco the next day,
issued a writ of habeas corpus for the body of one Maloney, which
writ was resisted, as we expected. The Governor then issued his
proclamation, and I published my orders, dated June 4, 1855. The
Quartermaster-General of the State, General Kibbe, also came to San
Francisco, took an office in the City Hall, engaged several rooms
for armories, and soon the men began to enroll into companies. In
my general orders calling out the militia, I used the expression,
"When a sufficient number of men are enrolled, arms and ammunition
will be supplied." Some of the best men of the "Vigilantes" came
to me and remonstrated, saying that collision would surely result;
that it would be terrible, etc. All I could say in reply was, that
it was for them to get out of the way. "Remove your fort; cease
your midnight councils; and prevent your armed bodies from
patrolling the streets." They inquired where I was to get arms,
and I answered that I had them certain. But personally I went
right along with my business at the bank, conscious that at any
moment we might have trouble. Another committee of citizens, a
conciliatory body, was formed to prevent collision if possible, and
the newspapers boiled over with vehement vituperation. This second
committee was composed of such men as Crockett, Ritchie, Thornton,
Bailey Peyton, Foote, Donohue, Kelly, and others, a class of the
most intelligent and wealthy men of the city, who earnestly and
honestly desired to prevent bloodshed. They also came to me, and I
told them that our men were enrolling very fast, and that, when I
deemed the right moment had come, the Vigilance Committee must
disperse, else bloodshed and destruction of property would
inevitably follow. They also had discovered that the better men of
the Vigilance Committee itself were getting tired of the business,
and thought that in the execution of Casey and Cora, and the
banishment of a dozen or more rowdies, they had done enough, and
were then willing to stop. It was suggested that, if our
Law-and-Order party would not arm, by a certain day near at hand
the committee would disperse, and some of their leaders would
submit to an indictment and trial by a jury of citizens, which they
knew would acquit them of crime. One day in the bank a man called
me to the counter and said, "If you expect to get arms of General
Wool, you will be mistaken, for I was at Benicia yesterday, and
heard him say he would not give them." This person was known to me
to be a man of truth, and I immediately wrote to General Wool a
letter telling him what I had heard, and how any hesitation on his
part would compromise me as a man of truth and honor; adding that I
did not believe we should ever need the arms, but only the promise
of them, for "the committee was letting down, and would soon
disperse and submit to the law," etc. I further asked him to
answer me categorically that very night, by the Stockton boat,
which would pass Benicia on its way down about midnight, and I
would sit up and wait for his answer. I did wait for his letter,
but it did not come, and the next day I got a telegraphic dispatch
from Governor Johnson, who, at Sacramento, had also heard of
General Wool's "back-down," asking me to meet him again at Benicia
that night.
I went up in the evening boat, and found General Wool's
aide-de-camp, Captain Arnold, of the army, on the wharf, with a
letter in his hand, which he said was for me. I asked for it, but
he said he knew its importance, and preferred we should go to
General Wool's room together, and the general could hand it to me in
person. We did go right up to General Wool's, who took the sealed
parcel and laid it aside, saying that it was literally a copy of one
he had sent to Governor Johnson, who would doubtless give me a copy;
but I insisted that I had made a written communication, and was
entitled to a written answer.
At that moment several gentlemen of the "Conciliation party," who
had come up in the same steamer with me, asked for admission and
came in. I recall the names of Crockett, Foote, Bailey Peyton,
Judge Thornton, Donohue, etc., and the conversation became general,
Wool trying to explain away the effect of our misunderstanding,
taking good pains not to deny his promise made to me personally on
the wharf. I renewed my application for the letter addressed to
me, then lying on his table. On my statement of the case, Bailey
Peyton said, "General Wool, I think General Sherman has a right to
a written answer from you, for he is surely compromised." Upon
this Wool handed me the letter. I opened and read it, and it
denied any promise of arms, but otherwise was extremely evasive and
non-committal. I had heard of the arrival at the wharf of the
Governor and party, and was expecting them at Wool's room, but,
instead of stopping at the hotel where we were, they passed to
another hotel on the block above. I went up and found there, in a
room on the second floor over the bar-room, Governor Johnson,
Chief-Justice Terry, Jones, of Palmer, Cooke & Co., E. D. Baker,
Volney E. Howard, and one or two others. All were talking
furiously against Wool, denouncing him as a d---d liar, and not
sparing the severest terms. I showed the Governor General Wool's
letter to me, which he said was in effect the same as the one
addressed to and received by him at Sacramento. He was so offended
that he would not even call on General Wool, and said he would
never again recognize him as an officer or gentleman. We discussed
matters generally, and Judge Terry said that the Vigilance
Committee were a set of d---d pork-merchants; that they were
getting scared, and that General Wool was in collusion with them to
bring the State into contempt, etc. I explained that there were no
arms in the State except what General Wool had, or what were in the
hands of the Vigilance Committee of San Francisco, and that the
part of wisdom for us was to be patient and cautious. About that
time Crockett and his associates sent up their cards, but Terry and
the more violent of the Governor's followers denounced them as no
better than "Vigilantes," and wanted the Governor to refuse even to
receive them. I explained that they were not "Vigilantes," that
Judge Thornton was a "Law-and-Order" man, was one of the first to
respond to the call of the sheriff, and that he went actually to
the jail with his one arm the night we expected the first attempt
at rescue, etc. Johnson then sent word for them to reduce their
business to writing. They simply sent in a written request for an
audience, and they were then promptly admitted. After some general
conversation, the Governor said he was prepared to hear them, when
Mr. Crockett rose and made a prepared speech embracing a clear and
fair statement of the condition of things in San Francisco,
concluding with the assertion of the willingness of the committee
to disband and submit to trial after a certain date not very
remote. All the time Crockett was speaking, Terry sat with his hat
on, drawn over his eyes, and with his feet on a table. As soon as
Crockett was through, they were dismissed, and Johnson began to
prepare a written answer. This was scratched, altered, and
amended, to suit the notions of his counselors, and at last was
copied and sent. This answer amounted to little or nothing.
Seeing that we were powerless for good, and that violent counsels
would prevail under the influence of Terry and others, I sat down
at the table, and wrote my resignation, which Johnson accepted in a
complimentary note on the spot, and at the same time he appointed
to my place General Volney E. Howard, then present, a lawyer who
had once been a member of Congress from Texas, and who was expected
to drive the d---d pork-merchants into the bay at short notice. I
went soon after to General Wool's room, where I found Crockett and
the rest of his party; told them that I was out of the fight,
having resigned my commission; that I had neglected business that
had been intrusted to me by my St. Louis partners; and that I would
thenceforward mind my own business, and leave public affairs
severely alone. We all returned to San Francisco that night by the
Stockton boat, and I never after-ward had any thing to do with
politics in California, perfectly satisfied with that short
experience. Johnson and Wool fought out their quarrel of veracity
in the newspapers and on paper. But, in my opinion, there is not a
shadow of doubt that General Wool did deliberately deceive us; that
he had authority to issue arms, and that, had he adhered to his
promise, we could have checked the committee before it became a
fixed institution, and a part of the common law of California.
Major-General Volney E. Howard came to San Francisco soon after;
continued the organization of militia which I had begun; succeeded
in getting a few arms from the country; but one day the Vigilance
Committee sallied from their armories, captured the arms of the
"Law-and-Order party," put some of their men into prison, while
General Howard, with others, escaped to the country; after which
the Vigilance Committee had it all their own way. Subsequently, in
July, 1856, they arrested Chief-Justice Terry, and tried him for
stabbing one of their constables, but he managed to escape at
night, and took refuge on the John Adams. In August, they hanged
Hetherington and Brace in broad daylight, without any jury-trial;
and, soon after, they quietly disbanded. As they controlled the
press, they wrote their own history, and the world generally gives
them the credit of having purged San Francisco of rowdies and
roughs; but their success has given great stimulus to a dangerous
principle, that would at any time justify the mob in seizing all
the power of government; and who is to say that the Vigilance
Committee may not be composed of the worst, instead of the best,
elements of a community? Indeed, in San Francisco, as soon as it
was demonstrated that the real power had passed from the City Hall
to the committee room, the same set of bailiffs, constables, and
rowdies that had infested the City Hall were found in the
employment of the "Vigilantes;" and, after three months
experience, the better class of people became tired of the midnight
sessions and left the business and power of the committee in the
hands of a court, of which a Sydney man was reported to be the head
or chief-justice.
During the winter of 1855-'56, and indeed throughout the year 1856,
all kinds of business became unsettled in California. The mines
continued to yield about fifty millions of gold a year; but little
attention was paid to agriculture or to any business other than
that of "mining," and, as the placer-gold was becoming worked out,
the miners were restless and uneasy, and were shifting about from
place to place, impelled by rumors put afloat for speculative
purposes. A great many extensive enterprises by joint-stock
companies had been begun, in the way of water-ditches, to bring
water from the head of the mountain-streams down to the richer
alluvial deposits, and nearly all of these companies became
embarrassed or bankrupt. Foreign capital, also, which had been
attracted to California by reason of the high rates of interest,
was being withdrawn, or was tied up in property which could not be
sold; and, although our bank's having withstood the panic gave us
great credit, still the community itself was shaken, and loans of
money were risky in the extreme. A great many merchants, of the
highest name, availed themselves of the extremely liberal bankrupt
law to get discharged of their old debts, without sacrificing much,
if any, of their stocks of goods on hand, except a lawyer's fee;
thus realizing Martin Burke's saying that "many a clever fellow had
been ruined by paying his debts." The merchants and business-men
of San Francisco did not intend to be ruined by such a course. I
raised the rate of exchange from three to three and a half, while
others kept on at the old rate; and I labored hard to collect old
debts, and strove, in making new loans, to be on the safe side.
The State and city both denied much of their public debt; in fact,
repudiated it; and real estate, which the year before had been
first-class security, became utterly unsalable.
The office labor and confinement, and the anxiety attending the
business, aggravated my asthma to such an extent that at times it
deprived me of sleep, and threatened to become chronic and serious;
and I was also conscious that the first and original cause which
had induced Mr. Lucas to establish the bank in California had
ceased. I so reported to him, and that I really believed that he
could use his money more safely and to better advantage in St.
Louis. This met his prompt approval, and he instructed me
gradually to draw out, preparatory to a removal to New York City.
Accordingly, early in April, 1857, I published an advertisement in
the San Francisco papers, notifying our customers that, on the 1st
day of May, we would discontinue business and remove East,
requiring all to withdraw their accounts, and declaring that,
if any remained on that day of May, their balances would be
transferred to the banking-house of Parrott & Co. Punctually to the
day, this was done, and the business of Lucas, Turner & Co., of San
Francisco, was discontinued, except the more difficult and
disagreeable part of collecting their own moneys and selling the
real estate, to which the firm had succeeded by purchase or
foreclosure. One of the partners, B. R. Nisbet, assisted by our
attorney, S. M. Bowman, Esq., remained behind to close up the
business of the bank.