encounter. But as he did not wish to take first advantage of him, but to allow him fair chance, he cried out to him to prepare, and then fired. He expected Mr. King to return the fire. He did not know whether the ball had hit King or not, because King's loose talina covered his upper body and prevented him from seeing its effect. That—to use Casey's own words—"seeing he did not fire, and believing him a dung-hill,' I did not shoot again, but turned to walk away, when I saw him falling; then I knew that I must have hit him, and I went to the City Hall to surrender myself."

To the same person, on the occasion first above referred to—and Casey knew then that his death was certain at the hands of the Committee—he remarked that he had no fear of death; that he would meet it with composure, although he did not deserve it; that which troubled him was that his aged mother should be told that her son was a murderer. This pained him. She lived in New York. He had regularly remitted money to her to maintain her in comfort in her old age; and now she must suffer privation and misery, with the great burden of the knowledge of the manner of his death to weigh her down to the grave. He wished to say something of a confidential nature to his visitor, but the guard refused to permit this, and said that he must hear everything that was uttered. He stood close to Casey all the time, and maintained the utmost severity of demeanor, the most inexorable nature, during the brief time allowed for the visit.

Chapter V.

Casey and Cora were hanged on Thursday, May 22d. On Monday, June 2d, a meeting of the advocates of Law and Order was held in the Plaza. Thousands of the Committee members and supporters assembled about the square. Nothing effective came of it. Governor Johnson had meantime been prevailed upon by prominent citizens, on the side of Law and Order, to adopt a course calculated to suppress the Committee. It was too late. The Law and Order element had organized a military force under the State militia 1 ws. W. T. Sherman was made General. Governor Johnson issued a proclamation commanding the State militia to hold themselves in readiness for duty, and to report to General Sherman. In the city a force of about three hundred mustered. It was totally inadequate, and not enough could be expected from the country. In the harbor, in front of the city, the war-ship John Adams, Commander Bontwell, was anchored. Commodore Farragut, commandant of this naval station, was at Mare Island. It was rumored that the Adams would support the authorities in case of conflict with the Committee. Another rumor was that cannons were to be placed upon the hills and at points which commanded the city, to be used if necessary. The excitement continued and increased. A deputation was sent to Washington, at the instance of the Governor, to represent the condition of affairs to the President, and prevail upon him to order the services of the military and naval forces to the suppression of the Committee and the restoration of law and order. The deputation took the next steamer and proceeded to the national capital. President Pierce replied that the federal government had no authority to interfere until the request came from the State government after the Legislature had assembled, acted upon the matter, and the State authorities had exhausted every means to put down the Committee and failed.

While the excitement was heightened by these rumors and proceedings, an incident occurred which augmented it to frenzied quality. The armory of the Law and Order forces was in the capacious brick building, northeast corner of Dupont and Jackson streets. On Jackson street, near by, a number of its members and sympathizers were standing in groups. Sterling Hopkins, the volunteer hangman of Casey, of the Vigilance police, came up and attempted the arrest of Reub. Maloney, a notorious politician, whose impudence of speech and reckless ways in partisan devices had made him an unenviable reputation. His bravery was in his mouth; his mouth beyond his own control. Judge David S. Terry, then of the State Supreme Court, interposed to prevent the lawless arrest, and in the struggle he drew a knife and dangerously wounded Hopkins. In a few minutes word had reached the Committee headquarters, and the alarm was sounded with unexampled vigor. The Committee forces, marshalled and led by the Commander-in-chief, Charles Doane, Major General, marched in quick time to the scene. Judge Terry had gone to the armory, Maloney and others with him. The Law and Order troops were less than three hundred strong. The Vigilance force numbered several thousand. A surrender was demanded. It would have been folly to resist, and with Terry and Maloney as prisoners, and the Law and Order troops as prisoners of war, so to say, the Vigilance forces marched back to their fortified quarters. The arrest of Judge Terry wrought the excitement to its climax. What would the Committee do with him? was the question asked by every one. His residence was temporarily in Sacramento, but Stockton was his home place. Governor Johnson was devoted to him; David S. Douglass, Secretary of State, was a bosom friend. Hundreds in the capital city were prepared to go to any length to rescue him. His thousands of friends in San Joaquin, everywhere in the San Joaquin Valley, were aroused to the extremity of desperation. All over the State the feeling for Judge Terry was very strong. Harm to him would have precipitated a domestic row, which would have caused immense sacrifice of life, and the destruction of San Francisco. It would have extended into the interior, and raged there in bloodshed and devastation. The peaceful way out of the difficulty was thought the better course, if it could be accomplished. The occasion was extraordinary, and never contemplated—the exigency beyond immediate solution. As James Dows, one of the coolest in judgment and wisest in counsel of the Executive Committee, pertinently described the situation in the pithy remark, "We started in to hunt cayotes, but we've got a grizzly bear on our hands, and we don't know what to do with him." The Executive Committee were not themselves masters of the situation. Behind them, subject to them and ready to obey their commands on ordinary occasions, were the 5,000 members of the Committee who carried arms, and felt themselves superior to even the Executive Committee, if occasion should happen to test the matter. Of their number nearly one-third were of foreign nationality, and of these a considerable proportion did not very well speak English—they were of revolutionary, if not insurrectionary temper—and had participated in uprisings in their native land against the government. Many of the native born members were of similar disposition. It had been resolved by this element of the Committee, that if Hopkins should die, Terry must hang; and the only alternative of the Executive Committee would be to order the execution or spirit him away, at the peril of their own lives. To hang a Justice of the highest judicial tribunal of the State, was a very serious matter to contemplate—a most hazardous extremity in any event. If spared from the fury of their troops, by ordering the execution, their death was certain at the hands of Judge Terry's avengers. In this quandary, the Executive Committee were as anxious for a safe way out, without blood or sacrifice, as any of the friends of Terry. Secretary of State Douglass came to San Francisco. He persuaded ex-Senator Gwin to interpose on Terry's behalf. Gwin dispatched Sam. J. Bridges, Appraiser-General, to Mare Island, to request Commodore Farragut to meet him in San Francisco on Wednesday, June 25th. On the afternoon of that day, Farragut, Gwin and two others, on behalf of Law and Order, met four members of the Executive Committee, in a room on the third floor of the Custom House. Senator Gwin explained the object of the conference—to secure the release of Judge Terry. Commodore Farragut then made the proposition: that he would have a boat