Criminals of Sierra County

Submitted by Janice Rice

CRIMINAL ANNALS

The criminal annals of any county present a sickening pageant of bloodshed and death ; a sad commentary on the depths of degradation attained by the human race when governed solely by passion or avarice. Crime is not a pleasant thing to contemplate, even by the criminal himself, whether before its commission or after ; and most certainly it is not an engaging theme for the timid chronicle; whose extreme of cruelty has never extended beyond the quondam impaling of a fly on a pin, or the occasional act of making a dog unhappy with a kettle appendage to the terminus of his spinal column. Still the facts remain, and form a part, though by no means (as some imagine) a very important part, of a county's history. We have made record of a few cases, such as may be of especial interest to the reader, from the peculiar circumstances under which the crime was committed, or from the retribution that followed its commission.

HANGING OF THE SPANISH WOMAN.

This celebrated affair, which gained for Downieville at the time an unenviable notoriety, has been so much talked and written about since, that nothing has been left for us to say which has not been already spoken. Conflicting opinions are held between many who were there, as to whether or not the citizens were justified in adopting the exceedingly harsh measures resorted to. The sex of the victim seems to be the only ground for condemning the act in stronger terms than any other execution done by the people themselves. Had a man met his fate on the Jersey bridge at Downieville for a similar provocation, his tragic death would hardly be remembered except by those who actually witnessed his taking-off, and they would have nothing to say, either in commendation or disapproval. A sense of chivalry and consideration for the weaker sex, however fallen characteristics common to masculinity awakened in the breasts of many persons a kind of horror at the idea of inflicting such a terrible punishment on a young and beautiful woman.

The Fourth of July, 1851, had been a great day in Downieville. The anniversary of the birth of our republic had been commemorated with grand parades, the assemblage of thousands, and with a thrilling address from John B. Weller, afterwards governor of California. Those addicted to the use of stimulating beverages their name was legion had held high carnival all the livelong day among the bottles and glasses; and when the somber shades of night had fallen, many a loud reveler was staggering through the crowded thoroughfares, awaking the echoes of the surrounding hills with their ribald song and laughter. Later in the night these jolly spirits became mischievous, and some of the rougher sort went around breaking open the doors of houses, among others, attacking the domicile of the ill-fated Juanita, occupied at the time by herself and a man of her own race. In the crowd was Jack Cannon, a Scotchman of magnificent physical strength and herculean proportions. When the hilarious band had broken up, at a very early hour the next morning, Cannon went back to the Mexican house. His purpose in returning thither is of course unknown. Many persons say that he intended to apologize, and pay for the damage done by himself and fellows; but this can be nothing more than a surmise. Mr. V. C. McMurry, who was probably the only outsider who witnessed the killing of Cannon, states that he saw Cannon go up to the door of the house, inside of which were standing the Mexican and the woman Juanita, and heard him address the latter with the Spanish word for prostitute. She immediately went into a side room, while Cannon, leaning each hand upon a doorpost, stood directly in the doorway conversing with the man. In a moment she re-entered the hall, with one hand held behind her. Coming rapidly to the front, and passing her companion of the night before, she plunged a long knife with tremendous force into Cannon's breast. The power required for the stroke must have been considerable, for the blade penetrated clear through the heavy sternum bone in .the center of the chest, and buried itself in his heart. Though she was a very small, slender woman of twenty-three years, her intense passion gave her for an instant an extraordinary strength. Cannon fell dead instantly.

But a moment was required to spread the news far and wide. Rapidly it sped from mouth to mouth, and the miners ran in great numbers to the place where Cannon lay still bleeding and warm. He was a popular fellow with the crowd. Threats of vengeance came from many a throat, and for safety the woman who had done the deed left her house hastily, and entered Craycroft's saloon, asking for protection. Her movement was noticed. A mob surrounded the place, so as to give her no possible chance of escape. Some one raised the cry, "Hang her!" and the idea met with an instant general approval. After the lapse of some time, during which her friends tried to save her, the woman was handed over to the frenzied crowd, and led into the main plaza, where a stand had been erected for public speaking the day previous, directly in front of Foster's old cabin. Here she and her reputed husband were placed to await the issue of their trial. The body of poor Jack Cannon was placed in a tent near by, that the people might see his gaping wound, and steel their hearts against a revulsion of feeling.

A judge and jury were appointed by those present, together with a lawyer for the " people," and one for the defendant. A young lawyer lately from the states undertook her defense, and right bravely he denounced the act about to be committed. He called upon those who had left friends and relatives in the east to consider what they would say of these proceedings ; for the sake of the women they loved, and the women that bore them, not to shed the blood of this poor creature. His eloquence was useless. While in the midst of his peroration the barrel on which he stood was kicked from beneath him, hat going one way and spectacles another, while he was flung on the heads of the mob below, and carried a hundred yards before he touched the ground, receiving blows and kicks from all sides. After taking evidence, the jury retired, but soon returned with a verdict of guilty. Dr. C. D. Aiken, as a last resort to save the woman, endeavored to prove that she was enceinte. Drs. Kibbe, Chase, and Carr were accordingly appointed a committee to make an examination, and reported that the statement was not true. For his rashness, Dr. Aiken was ordered to leave town in twenty-four hours, and for quite a period his shadow darkened no door in Downieville.

The woman was taken to her cabin, and given one hour to prepare for death, without a priest. Confronting with an unflinching, steady gaze the angry crowd surrounding her, she sat the whole time ; when, her hour being up, she was called forth, and passed fearlessly down the street, chatting and smiling with as much ease as any one there. From the top of the Jersey bridge a rope dangled over the side, while beneath it a timber six inches wide was lashed to the bridge, and swung out above the stream. Three thousand excited spectators were present, many of whom now live to tell the tale. On the plank she stood, quietly surveying the crowd. Perceiving a friend, she took off her Panama hat, and gracefully flung it to him, bidding him good by in Spanish. She took the rope in her own hands, placed it about her neck, and adjusted it beneath her beautiful black hair with her own fingers. A white handkerchief was thrown over her face, her hands tied behind her, and at each end of the plank, ax in hand, stood a man ready to cut the lashings. Another fired a pistol as a signal, and the axes fell. She dropped three or four feet, meeting death with scarcely a struggle.

The affair created a great deal of comment at the time, the course of the miners being almost universally denounced by the press of the country. Even the London Times of that period had a severe article on the subject. Not long since, the memory of this event caused Mr. George Barton of  Downieville, who witnessed the hanging, to write some very creditable verses, a few of which we present below :

"They placed her high upon the stand,
Calmly she sat, no tear, nor frown, Nor quivering lip, nor trembling hand
Shook ; but silent, looking down, She viewed the scene of hate and strife,
Heard maddened voices cry aloud That she must die, and life for life
Seemed the watchword of the crowd.
" With hurried forms they held a court,
The judge elected, jury sworn ; It seemed but as a mocking sport,
For she would die before the morn. Was there no man dared to defend,
And help a woman's life to save? A stranger tried, a humane friend
He sank beneath that angry wave.
' The sun had passed its noonday line,
The jury from the scene retired, And thousands in that solemn time
Seemed calm, and yet their hearts were fired And pity dwelt in scarce an eye
But silence I hear the verdict read : The prisoner's GUILTY, and must die
Hung by the neck till she is dead.
' And still her face seemed more serene
Than all that sea of faces there ; Before she left this earthly scene
She begged for time to plead in prayer. 'Twas given her bosom heaved no sighs,
Nor fluttering pang, nor bated breath ; No tear bedimmed her keen, black eyes,
She knelt to pray, not fearing death.
" The sun sank low down in the west,
And tinged with gold each mountain ridge ; The crowd closed in and eager pressed
Onward towards the fatal bridge That spanned the rapid mountain stream,
And thousands darkly lined each shore ; The noose was dangling from the beam,
Her dream of life would soon be o'er.
" Gayly she climbed the fatal pile ;
To one she knew, with graceful bend, Flung him her hat, and with a smile,
'Adois, AMIGO ' good by, friend ; And pressed the noose beneath her hair,
And smoothed it down with steady palms : Like making up her toilet there,
Ere death embraced her in his arms.
" Her face enwrapped and limbs close tied,
The handkerchief clasped in her hands To give the signal ere she died
A moment silent thus she stands ; It dropped a shot rang on the air,
The plank fell from beneath her feet, A woman's lifeless form was there,
Her soul had sought the mercy-seat.
" Stern winter brought its angry flood
That madly rushed towards the sea ; That bridge went down, and yet the blood
Stain lingers ; it will ever be A mark no matter where the blame
To point the finger toward the spot, When every witness, ay, each name,
Are unremembered, all forgot."

SHOOTING OF THADDEUS PURDY.

In the fall of 1853, a gambler named Muntz and a miner, "Baltimore Jack," quarreled over a game of cards at Foster City. Muntz wounded Jack dangerously with a knife, and hastened to Downieville to give himself up to the sheriff. The present court-house and jail were not finished, and Sheriff William Ford placed him, with a guard, up-stairs in Craycroft's building. Jack had lived in Downieville, and was a gay, frolicking, social kind of fellow, a good singer, and had warm friends among a certain class. On the night of Muntz's arrival, Baltimore Jack had died. His friends were determined to lynch the gambler; and on the following day, September 8, a great number started for Downieville, bent on this purpose. The first intimation the town had of the coming storm was a dark, moving mass of men on the trail, coming down Galloway's hill ; and from its length, there must have been two or three hundred, armed with great clubs, knives, and revolvers. Twenty gamblers and several officers defended the stairs as the surging, angry crowd surrounded the building. The miners were furious, and frequent shouts of "Let's drive the d___d gamblers out of town," were heard on every side. That portion of the body politic began to tremble as much for their own safety as for the life of their prisoner. Among the objectionable characters at the head of the stairs was one Cheever. Philo A. Haven stood at the bottom, and Thaddeus Purdy, then district attorney, about half-way up. Perceiving the trouble likely to ensue, Mr. Haven said that Cheever had better come down, calling for Cheever to descend, and let a miner take his place. At this juncture some of the miners crowded up the stairs, when a pistol was fired from above, and Purdy dropped, mortally wounded. Somebody raised the cry, "It is an accident," which served to quell the fury of the mob. A vague stillness followed the report ; the loud voices fell to a lower tone as they carried Purdy to the center of the saloon, and friends stood by helpless to assist him in his death agony. In a few minutes all was over for him on earth, and tears coursed down many a rough cheek, from even some of the mob that had caused all the disturbance.

During the excitement the man who had fired the purely accidental shot was hurriedly got out of the way, and no further demonstration followed. Even Muntz was allowed to escape the punishment intended for him. Purdy's term as district attorney was about to expire, and he was fixing up his business matters preparatory to a departure for the east. Benjamin Green and H. H. Purdy, the Downieville jewelers, made a very handsome coffin plate of silver dollars, which a few years since was piped out from some gravel by the miners, and sent back to Mr. Purdy's father, the body having been previously removed. On the fifteenth of October, 1853, the court of sessions of Sierra county set aside one hundred dollars for the purpose of erecting a monument over the remains of the deceased officer.

HANGING OF THE INDIAN PIJO.

The first legal hanging in Sierra county occurred on the sixteenth of September 1853, and an Indian named Pijo has the honor of being the candidate on that occasion. On the thirtieth of May three Chinamen were at work on Canon creek, in Indian valley, when they were surprised by a band of Indians from the Middle Yuba, consisting of twenty or more, and two of the foreigners were slaughtered, the third making good his escape. Some time after, Chung Chong, the survivor, came to the ranch of S. H. Cook and told him about the occurrence. Cook immediately went to the spot, in company with several Americans and Chinamen, but failed to find the bodies. Chung said he saw an Indian, who had an ugly scar on his lip, kill the two Chinamen on the road, and was certain he could identify him. Charles Stan wood, justice of the peace at Goodyear's bar, issued a warrant for the arrest of the murderer on the eighteenth of June, and three days after a party went in pursuit of him. With the help of a friendly savage, Pijo was caught at Cold Spring ranch, his own chief pointing him out as the man, forty Indians being present. Pijo was dragged to the house, tied to a post, and by threats of hanging was induced to disclose the burial place of his victims. His knife was taken away, and he led his captors to the scene of the murder, where he pointed them out. One was lying above the other on the side of the hill. Both were pierced with arrows, and on the skull of the lower one were two stones weighing twenty pounds apiece. The remains were in such an advanced state of decomposition that they could not touch them with their hands. A purse of gold had been taken from one body, which was found on the person of Pijo. The inquest was held in Indian valley by S. H. Cook, M. S. Thurber, Jr., William H. Post, William A. McLaughlin, Lewis W. Howell, and Jacob Miller.

Upon their return to Cook's house, the Chinamen took Pijo, and would have hung him, " Melikee fashion," to a neighboring oak, had he not been rescued from their hands. In the night the crafty savage, realizing the fate in store for him, feigned to be asleep, and succeeded in getting his wrists untied before his motions were discovered.

Pijo was brought to Downieville, and the grand jury found an indictment for murder against him, July 20, 1853. The case was transferred from the court of sessions to the district court, and was tried at the August term, Judge W. T. Barbour sitting on the bench. The Indian's counsel were A. Smith and E. T. Hogan, while the prosecution was conducted by Thaddeus Purdy, then district attorney. The jury found a verdict of guilty, and on the ninth of August Judge Barbour pronounced sentence of death, fixing the day of execution at September 16, 1853. William J. Ford was at that time sheriff of the county. Not being a man of very strong nerves, he dreaded the performance of his official duty, and as the day approached he shrunk from it. However, he found no difficulty in shirking the work, for a man with an itching palm volunteered to hang Pijo for fifty dollars. His  offer was accepted; and amidst a considerable crowd of spectators, who came from far and near, the Indian paid the penalty of his crimes on the scaffold which had been erected a short distance up the South Fork. The volunteer executioner, to escape the opprobrium which he was aware would attach to his conduct, appeared in a disguise. But his incognito was readily discovered ; and when he that evening frequented a gambling-saloon, staked his fifty dollars on a game of chance and lost it, even the gamblers themselves refused to take the price of human life. Their anger towards the man became so great that later in the night several of their number gave him a sound drubbing, and banished him from the place.

QUICK WORK AT GOODYEAR'S.

In 1854 the bars on the river at Goodyear's were alive with men, and sanguinary quarrels were of almost daily occurrence. The gambling-saloons were generally the pest-houses from which emanated the bloody crimes, and in one of these a man named Hawkins was killed one day by a Spaniard. No sooner had the deed been committed than the murderer was fiercely attacked by the spectators, who cut and hacked him without mercy, causing his death almost instantly. On his body were ten deep knife-wounds. 

WHOLESALE BUTCHERY OF CHINAMEN.

On a bright Sunday morning in September, 1855, the bodies of five murdered Chinamen were found about a mile from St. Louis, on Slate creek. Dr. Jump was then practicing in St. Louis. A Chinaman who had escaped the fate of his companions came to him on Sunday morning, and told him, in pigeon-English, that Chinamen had been killed, and wanted him to go to the place, which he did. The number of the party was six. They were mining in the neighborhood, and lived in a cloth tent. In the night some men had jumped on the side of the tent, and killed three of the poor Chinamen as they lay in their beds, stabbing them through the canvas. Another had been murdered on the outside, while the body of the fifth had been thrown in the mud at the bottom of a prospect hole. The sixth one got away. The Chinamen had a hundred ounces of gold with them, which had been taken. Three Spaniards, who were considered suspicious characters, were arrested and taken before the citizens' court, but there being no evidence tending to show their guilt, they proved an alibi, and got away.

HANGING OF HARLOW.

Mordecai E. Harlow, for the murder of a man named Smith, committed October 12, 1854, at Rabbit Creek, now La Porte, was hung in Slug canon about eighteen months after. Harlow was known to be an utterly unscrupulous and a dangerous man, and withal a very cunning thief. In 1858 the good citizens of Goodyear's bar had proved a theft on him, and in addition to the administering of a severe castigation, he was branded with the letter " T " on his cheek, that, like Cain, he might bear the public record of his iniquity to the grave. Harlow and the wife of Smith, at Rabbit Creek, had formed an intimacy not altogether consistent with the laws of society, which improper connection is supposed to have led to the murder of Smith, for the purpose of getting him out of the way. On the day alluded to, Harlow and Smith were chopping trees in the woods, when the former split the latter's head open with an axe. The wife was suspected of conniving at the murder of her husband. Harlow escaped to Oregon, where he remained concealed for over a year. Finally he ventured to return to Sierra county, and was caught soon after. Harlow was arraigned on the twelfth of February, 1856, in the district Court, Judge Niles Searles presiding on the bench. He was defended by William S. Spear. The trial occupied only one day ; on the evening of the thirteenth, the jury, of which William S. Kenney was foreman, found a verdict of guilty. Sentence of death was pronounced by Judge Searles February 27, limiting Harlow's lease of life to the eighteenth of April. The plea of the defense for acquittal was grounded on alleged insanity in the prisoner, Doctors Aiken and Carr having previously made an examination and discovered the necessary maniacal symptoms. But the feeling was so strong against Harlow that the jury had no difficulty in coming to an agreement. Sheriff Ford and his deputies performed the execution in Slug caffon on the day appointed, in the presence of a vast concourse of excited witnesses, who covered the sides of the neighboring hills. The job was not performed very artistically. At the first drop the rope stretched so much that the victim's feet touched the ground. Immediately several strong hands grasped the rope and hauled the writhing burden to a more elevated position, where he died in a few moments.

On the scaffold Harlow confessed to an additional crime of which he had not been suspected, and for which another and an innocent party had severely suffered. In 1854 a young man had been arrested for robbing a sluice-box in the Chicago diggings, and had been sentenced from a justice's court to imprisonment in the county jail six months, together with twenty-five lashes at the whipping-post. The punishment was administered in accordance with the law, though the man who wielded the lash laid them on as lightly as possible. The term of confinement had expired, and long prior to the hanging of Harlow the unfortunate youth had left the town with no great love for the place. The establishment of his innocence by the confession of Harlow produced a inversion of feeling in the minds of the people ; and could the young man have been found at the time, he would have been liberally remunerated in a pecuniary way for his suffering and humiliation.

THE BUTLER-MOFFAT TRAGEDY

The killing of Robert Moffat at Downieville, in the fall of 1855, occasioned great excitement at the time, arid though David Butler, the murderer, met a retributive fate in an adjoining county, the matter properly belongs to the criminal annals of Sierra county. On the twenty-seventh of September, 1857, Robert Moffat arrived in Downieville, bringing with him a lot of gold-dust from the Buttes mine. An attempt to rob him on his way thither had been threatened, but the discovery of the plot being made in time, the gang of robbers had refrained from making any demonstrations of the kind. That evening, Moffat met a Mexican in the card-room of Craycroft's saloon, and accused him of being at the head of the band of robbers. The Mexican denied the charge, when Butler stepped up, saying that the Mexican was not the man for whom the remarks were intended. Moffat insisted that he meant what he said, which resulted in hard words and threats between them, when Butler went away to arm himself. The conversation was continued" between Moffat and the Mexican. Presently Butler returned, with a pistol belted to his side. Moffat asked Butler what he was looking at, who answered : " I am looking at you, because I have nothing else to do." Moffat then said he wished to have nothing to do with such a man. Upon this, Butler drew his pistol and struck at Moffat two or three times ; then he stepped back, leveled his weapon, and fired, the ball taking effect in Moffat's right side, from the effects of which he died in twenty-four hours. Butler escaped over the hill to the west by the aid of his friends, the gamblers of the place, who led the excited crowd up the river, shouting, " Catch him ! Shoot him ! " giving the fugitive a chance for his life, which he improved to advantage. Butler fled to Oregon. The county offered a large reward for his arrest, and it was not until a year and a half afterwards that he was caught, under an assumed name. Butler was brought down on a steamer from Portland to San Francisco. The mysterious disappearance of the first mate on the voyage led to the belief that Butler, out of pure devilishness, had pitched him overboard. Sheriff Ford expended $1,500 dollars in catching his man. The case against Butler was opened in the district court March 30, 1857 ; he was de fended by Colonel E. D. Baker. The case continued until the next term, and then, the feeling being so strong against the murderer, he obtained a change of venue to Nevada county. There he was defended by attorneys Stewart and Sargent, and prosecuted by the district attorneys of Nevada and Sierra counties, assisted by William S. Spear of Downieville. The jury were out fifteen minutes, when they returned a verdict of guilty. The case was appealed to the supreme court, but no change was ordered. Butler was sentenced to be hung on the eleventh of December, 1857, but was respited by Governor Johnson till February 26, 1858, when he was executed at Nevada City.

A FOREST-CITY FIGHT.

A miner named Chapman Hough was fatally wounded in an affray with a Mexican, Muchaco, at Forest City, on the twelfth of July, 1857. An altercation took place between the parties in the street opposite Henry's saloon, when Hough struck Muchaco in the face, and the latter drew his pistol, firing the first time without effect, but the second shot was fatal to Hough the ball entering the stomach and ranging downwards. Hough, though mortally wounded, seized the pistol, and in the struggle it went off, wounding Muchaco in the thigh. Hough died the next day. The Mexican was arrested by Deputy Sheriff Kirkpatrick, and in due course of law was sent to the state penitentiary.

A POKER-FLAT FIASCO.

According to the entertaining narrative of Bret Harte, entitled " The Outcasts of Poker Flat," this place was once the scene of a triple hanging ; but the charge is indignantly denied by all who have lived in those classic precincts, and we must sadly deposit this story on the shelf in the liar's corner, where it will cut a respectable figure by the side of Joaquin Miller's and other imaginative productions. But Poker flat has not always sustained her present good behavior. From a choice collection we select one little circumstance that happened on the tenth of January, 1859. John Burk and Jimmy Lyons were eating supper at Kelly's, when the latter, finishing first, arose, took the former's pipe which was lying on the table, and began to smoke it. Burk became offended at this familiarity, protesting in no very elegant terms at the other's impudence. An interesting dispute followed, when Burk drew a butcher-knife and stabbed Lyons to the heart. He was examined before Justice Downer, at Howland flat, and held to answer before the district court. The case came up in June, before Judge Van Clief, and was continued until August. Harry I. Thornton, district attorney, and W. D. Sawyer prosecuted the case; while J. E. Plunkett and Steward & Bald win conducted the defense. It looked as though Burk would furnish a disagreeable duty for the sheriff to perform, considering the cold-bloodedness of the crime. Edwin Irwin was sheriff and Sawyer Clapp under-sheriff, at the time. A letter was received from relatives of the prisoner, offering Clapp a large sum if he would enable Burk to escape. The trial occurred on the fifteenth and sixteenth of August, when Burk was found guilty of murder in the second degree, and sentenced to the state prison for a term of twelve years. Long afterwards, in April, 1863, Burk was convicted of murder in Nevada county, and hung.

TIRED OF LIFE

In 1859 Justice Burgess, at Goodyear's bar, had a Chinaman brought before him, charged with robbing a toll-house. Considering a light punishment sufficient, his honor furnished him a temporary residence at the county seat. A day or two after his confinement, the melancholy Mongolian was found hanging by the neck in his cell, life having taken its exit.

EXECUTION OF MICHAEL MURRAY

The last legal execution of Sierra county occurred two years after the execution of Harlow. On the twenty-seventh of December, 1857, Poker flat witnessed an affray on her streets that caused the immediate death of one man and the hanging of another. The fight arose between Michael Murray and Daniel Sweeney, but was participated in by R. Galloway. Sweeney received a knife wound on the face, supposed to have been inflicted by Galloway. Then a knife, in the hand of Murray, penetrated his heart, producing instantaneous dissolution. The parties were examined before Justice F. Descombes ; Murray was held for murder in the second degree, and Galloway as accessory. Murray had received four wounds in his fight with Sweeney, and it was some time before he was able to appear in court. His case was begun in the court of sessions in May, 1858, but was transferred to the district court, and came up in July, before Judge Niles Searles. Harry I. Thornton, Jr., then district attorney, prosecuted the case on the part of the people ; while R. H. Taylor and J. J. Musser labored for the acquittal of the prisoner. The case was submitted to the jury at seven o'clock p. M., July 15, and at eleven that evening a verdict of murder in the first degree was rendered, Joseph Pearson being foreman. July 24, 1858, Judge Searles sentenced the prisoner to be hung by the neck until dead, on the seventeenth of September, 1858. Murray's counsel appealed the case to the supreme court, where the action of the lower court was sustained. The slow deliberations of that body enabled Murray to obtain a respite, during which the utmost efforts were made to save him. The homicide for which he was doomed to suffer having occurred in a general fight, with no proof of cold-blooded villainy against Murray, he having been attacked and severely wounded himself, the popular feeling and sympathy were considerably in his favor. But they were inefficacious in wresting him from the hands of the law.

Judge Warren T. Sexton of Butte county, who occupied the bench in Sierra county at the December term of the district court, pronounced the second sentence of death on the twenty-sixth of the month, setting the execution for the twenty-first of January, 1859. The execution was conducted by Sheriff Edward Irwin, and his deputies Ould and Pierce, within an inclosure in the court-house square. The prisoner was attended by Father Delahunty, of the Downieville Catholic church, who continued in prayer until the fatal moment arrived. Murray declined to address the small crowd who were admitted to the scene. With great calmness he met his doom. The prisoner was elevated by a three-hundred-pound weight let off by a trip-hook, which apparatus is now preserved in the court-house, waiting for another victim. The inclosure was guarded by the National Guard, who refused to admit the three hundred spectators that came to witness the affair not knowing it would be private. The body hung nineteen minutes before it was lowered. Murray was a very large man with great physical strength.

LYNCHING AT CHIP'S FLAT.

In the vicinity of Forest City, Alleghany, and Chip's flat petty robberies by Chinamen were very frequent during the year 1865. P. Curry owned a store-house at Chip's, which was broken into several times, and goods stolen. These nocturnal visitations finally became very annoying to Mr. Curry, and to put a stop to them he employed a man by the name of Newhouse to watch nights and discover who the rascals were. The first morning after assuming the duties of night watchman, Newhouse was missing. Search was made for him, but without success for a time. In looking through a Chinaman's cabin one day, blood was discovered, which was sufficient to fasten suspicion on the proprietor. He was induced by threats and rough treatment to confess having killed Newhouse, and agreed to tell where the body was. He conducted them to the trail in a ravine, where the remains of poor Newhouse were found to be buried. To facilitate the carrying of the corpse to this place, John had cut it in two, putting a half on each end of his pole. Short work was made of the murderer. A lynch court was immediately organized, a short trial given the prisoner, and he was hung without more ado. Before death had relieved his sufferings, the men began throwing rocks at him, one of which crushed in his skull ; and he was otherwise mutilated. After this hanging, the thefts in that vicinity ceased entirely.

EXPRESS ROBBERIES.

The wild mountain trails that traverse the county in every direction, connecting camps With each other and with the outside, were for many years tempting and lucrative fields for the bold highwayman to exercise his peculiar talents in. As prior to 1859 every article of merchandise, all the mail and express matter, and everything else of value had to be packed in or out on the backs of mules or horses, the business of highway robbery was comparatively easy, paying large dividends for the dangers incurred. All the expressmen going out of the county carried more or less gold- dust with them, and as they generally rode alone, it put the enterprising road -agent to but little trouble to gain a livelihood. The building of substantial highways through the wild canons and over the ridges, and the running of great, lumbering stages that carry a car-load of freight, express, and passengers, has rendered the calling in these days exceedingly difficult and dangerous, such as only the most interpid care to follow.

S. W. Langton started his express from Marysville to Downieville in 1850, spreading out and taking in the other camps as his business increased, until he had almost a monopoly in this line. He had the names of thousands of miners, together with their location, and delivered letters to them at the rate of a dollar apiece. At first there was but little to be apprehended from the road-agents, but they soon made themselves felt, and it began to require the exercise of a keen judgment to select men of bravery and determination who could get treasure from point to point in safety, despite the obstacles and dangers that threatened them at every step. Some of the stories told by these men, of their escapes and failures, are exceedingly sensational, the more so because of their evident truth. Among the first on the route from Marysville to Downieville was George Great- house. In 1853 Mr. J. N. McMillan was on the route from Minnesota to Nevada City, which was considered a very dangerous one, as four men had been killed on the ridge, whose bodies were found- mangled and stiff by the side of the trail. One day, in the summer of 1854, he had about two hundred ounces of gold-dust in the express bags, and after leaving Chip's flat, going down to Kanaka creek, the bags slipped off. He did not miss them for some time; but when he perceived the loss, he retraced his steps up the hill, searching for the treasure. He soon saw a man in the act of taking the bags from the ground, who explained as he rode up that he had found them, and was going to return them to Chip's flat. McMillan dismounted, saying he would take charge of them, but found that the straps of one side were unbuckled, and the contents gone. He told the man that one purse was missing; but the latter claimed to know nothing about it, as he had just come up and had taken nothing. Being sure that the man had the gold, McMillan proposed that they should go to Chip's together, and let the agents know what had happened. The stranger, who carried a pig in a sack, agreed to this, and they went back. S. B. Davidson and Mr. Riley, the agents there at the time, had shipped the missing purse. Before reaching the office the man deposited his pig in a vacant cabin, when they went on and told their stories. McMillan was put under arrest by the justice, while McGury, the pig man, was allowed to go. A subsequent search of the cabin revealed the purse hidden in the straw, which led to the arrest of McGury, who was examined and bound over for trial at a higher court. At the time, however, he failed to turn up, and his bail bond had also been stolen from the clerk's office, so that the proceedings of the court met with a decided check. To avoid robbers, Mr. McMillan was frequently obliged, when carrying large sums, to take devious and unfrequented ways towards his destination. He says that he ha left Downieville, gone direct to Camptonville, thence to Pike City, Plum valley, and Scott's flat, to reach Minnesota ; and sometimes went up the South Fork, Jim Crow canon, and Wolf creek, to arrive at the same place.

July 30, 1854, a genuine robbery was committed, which we leave him to tell in his own words " I left Forest City for Downieville about 5 p. M., and took the trail up the North Fork that intersects the Henness Pass road. When near that point I heard a shot fired. I rode on to where the sound came from, and could see no one. I was somewhat alarmed, pulled out my pistol and examined it, and just as I returned it to the holster, two men jumped out from the side of the road, with shot-guns, and demanded my money. I shouted as loud as I could to alarm a teamster that was in sight, but could not make him hear. I went for my revolver, but they shouted ' Don't you draw that; if you do, you are a dead man ! ' I got it as quick as I could, and was about to shoot, when a third robber from behind grabbed my arm ; then they ordered me to dismount, and I was forced to do so, for they had wrenched the pistol from my hand. One robber led the mule back on the road, and the other two ordered me to follow the mule ; when I did not go fast enough they punched me in the back with the muzzle of their guns. We followed the old trail down to near the north fork of Kanaka creek, where there was a small grove of trees. Here they tied the mule, and tied me, too, to a tree. They were about to blindfold me and use a gag, but when I saw the gag I protested, and they let that go. While they were in the act of securing me, I expected to be killed, for I saw one of them was a Spaniard, and he had a knife at least a foot long, which he flourished around my body, and as it glistened in the sun I thought my last hour had come, for I expected he was the one to finish the job. The leader of the gang said he ought to kill me, for he said I was eyeing him until I would know him if I saw him in hell. They took what gold-dust I had, amounting to nearly $5,000, and left the express letters scattered over the ground. When I was satisfied they were gone, I turned my head round towards the tree, and rubbed my face up and down against a limb of the tree until I worked the blindfold down to my neck; then I could see again. I had been riding with my vest unbuttoned, and in my vest pocket I had a small knife. I gathered in my vest at the back, until I got the pocket behind me, and succeeded in getting the knife ; with great difficulty, however, as my hands were very numb. I worked with great care, for fear I might drop the knife. After getting it open I commenced to cut the rope that bound my wrists; I could just change hands with the knife, and cut away at one wrist, then the other, until at last the rope was cut ; in doing so both my wrists were cut till the blood flowed freely. After the rope was once cut I had no difficulty in getting away, and reached the wagon road just as a teamster was passing along."

Two of these robbers were afterwards arrested. The Spaniard was caught in San Francisco, and being tried, received a sentence of five years in the penitentiary, two of which he served out. George Walker, the captain of the gang, was captured at Sacramento and brought to Downieville. He obtained his freedom by inducing the jailor, Bob Drake, to open his cell door, when he slid out and locked the obliging officer inside. He was afterwards killed near Stockton.