In a display case of the State Historical Museum at Madison may be seen a handsomely-flowered vest of a pattern favored by gentlemen three generations ago. Looking at it closely the curious visitor will detect a small hole through the left front of the garment a short distance below the armhole. The tiny aperture affords mute yet eloquent evidence of the saddest tragedy in the political annals of Wisconsin, for through it sped the bullet which found the heart and terminated the life of Charles C. P. Arndt in the Council Chamber of the Territory of Wisconsin on the morning of February 11, 1842.

The flight of eighty years has stilled the passions of that early day as completely as the fatal bullet stilled the heart of Charles Arndt. The obscurity of the grave shrouds the memory alike of slayer and slain, and all the actors who took part in this once-celebrated drama have long since passed from the stage of life. It is at length possible, therefore, to review the story free from passion or prejudice, and from such a review something of interest and instruction may be derived.

Charles C. P. Arndt, the victim, was the son of Judge Arndt, an old and prominent citizen of Green Bay. The younger man was born at Wilkesbarre, Pennsylvania, October 31, 1811, and came to Green Bay with his parents in 1824. Several years later he returned East to complete his education, graduating from Rutgers College in 1832. He subsequently studied law at Easton, Pennsylvania, where he was admitted to the bar in April, 1835. Returning to his home at Green Bay, he was there admitted to practice in the courts of Michigan Territory (the Territory of Wisconsin was organized in 1836), and here he established a family and continued in the practice of his profession until his untimely death a half dozen years later. In 1839 he was elected to the Territorial Council, of which his father, Judge Arndt, was also a member, to fill the unexpired term of Alexander J. Irwin.

James R. Vineyard, whose unhappy destiny it was to become the slayer of Arndt, was a native of Kentucky and a prominent resident of the lead mines. He bore an excellent reputation in his community, and in 1838 was elected to represent Grant County in the Territorial Council. Arndt was a northern man and a Whig, while Vineyard was a southerner and a Democrat. Partisan rivalry was keen between the two great parties in those days, and the feeling often assumed manifestations of a distinctly personal and individual character. There was, moreover, a vigorous local rivalry between the mines and Green Bay; yet despite these factors Arndt and Vineyard became close friends. Vineyard was a boarder in Arndt's house for a time, and on the very morning of the killing, the two men were observed in the lobby of the Council Chamber, their arms thrown about each other's shoulders in affectionate attitude, engaged in familiar discourse.

In all this there is no hint of the shocking affray which was about to develop. Its explanation is to be found rather in the manners and ideals of the age to which the actors in the tragedy belonged than in any considerations of a special or personal character. The immediate circumstances which provoked the affray were trivial enough. Governor Doty, between whom and the Territorial legislature much bad feeling existed, had nominated Enos S. Baker to the office of sheriff of Grant County. In the Council, to which the nomination must go for approval, an intermittent debate over it was waged for several days, in the course of which much ill feeling was manifested. Arndt, a supporter of the Governor, favored the nomination, while Vineyard opposed it. In the course of the debate on Friday forenoon, February 11, a statement made by Arndt was characterized as a falsehood by Vineyard. Feeling ran high, and in this posture of affairs a motion was made to adjourn. Before the presiding officer had announced the result of the vote, most of the members rose from their seats and Arndt and Vineyard resumed their quarrel. Arndt demanded an explanation from Vineyard, and the two men being close together a physical combat seemed imminent. It was averted for the moment, however, by the demands of the presiding officer for order and the separation of the two men by two or three of the members. Arndt moved away from Vineyard' desk some eight or ten feet to the vicinity of the fireplace, and Vineyard remained at his desk until the President announced the adjournment. Arndt thereupon approached Vineyard and demanded to know if the latter had meant to impute falsehood to him in his remarks. Vineyard answered that he had, whereupon Arndt struck him in the face; whether with open or clenched hand is uncertain. Vineyard reeled or drew back a pace and instantly producing a pistol, shot his opponent through the breast. The stricken man fell into the arms of William S. Bering, who held him until he died without uttering a word, perhaps five minutes later.

The scene of confusion in the Council Chamber which attended this swift tragedy may be more easily imagined than described. That a serious quarrel was impending was evident to all, and it was this situation, indeed, which had caused the hasty adjournment of the session. Yet it seems apparent that no one, with the possible exception of Vineyard, had anticipated a denouement so swift or with consequences so fatal, else more effective interference would have been interposed by other members to prevent it. Most of all would Judge Arndt, whose bitterness it was to witness his son gasp out his life at his feet, have interposed to save him. But so quickly was the thing done that those who would have interfered to allay the quarrel found themselves too late. Thus, President Collins testified that immediately upon declaring the adjournment, fearing further trouble, he left the chair and went toward the two men. "I heard words pass between them; Arndt struck at, or hit Vineyard. I heard a report of a pistol; Arndt staggered back, . . . Vineyard observed to me he would not get away. I did not see the Pistol drawn. . . saw the muzzle, the butt was covered by his hand."

In similar fashion Charles J. Learned testified: harsh words passed between Arndt and Vineyard. I went toward them; Arndt approached from his seat towards Vineyard; both [were] excited. I took Arndt and led him to the fireplace; told him it was not time or place to indulge in quarrels. In a moment or two, the House adjourned. On this being announced, or before, Arndt stepped towards Vineyard, and demanded of him in a peremptory tone 'if he imputed falsehood to him, in the remarks he had made.' Vineyard replied, 'he did.' Arndt immediately struck him ; I heard a discharge of what I presumed to be a pistol saw no pistol drawn; do not know who discharged it."

Looking upon the dying man. Vineyard observed that he was sorry for what had been done but it could not be helped now, and turned to leave the room. Someone cried out that he should not be allowed to escape, but nothing was done to prevent this and he proceeded to his room in the American Hotel across the street. There he reloaded his pistol and placed it in his trunk, A few minutes later the sheriff arrived and took him into custody.

The slayer was committed to the Dane County jail, where we may leave him for the present while we take note of the effect produced upon the community by the news of the slaying. The sparse population of the Territory (but 30,000 in 1840; perhaps twice as large in 1842), the official standing of the principals, the occurrence of the crime in the legislative chamber, in the presence of the leading men of the Territory all conspired to produce a sensation of the first magnitude. The first official expression upon the matter came from the Council itself. On the morning following the killing of Arndt, Morgan L. Martin of Green Bay addressed the Council upon the subject of his character and death, closing with a series of resolutions which were unanimously adopted. They expressed, in appropriate language, the shock felt by the Council over the event, conveyed its sympathy to the widow of Arndt, and provided that the body of the slain councilor be conveyed to his home at the expense of the Legislative Assembly.* Similar proceedings were gone through in the Assembly, after which the regular order of the day was dispensed with and at noon both branches of the Legislature assembled in the Council Chamber to attend upon the funeral ceremonies.

Thus far, apparently, all had been done with decorous unanimity. But scarcely had the corpse departed from the capitol on its dreary journey to Green Bay, when personal and political considerations began to assert themselves. When the Council convened on Monday morning, February 14, the President stated that he had received a communication from Vineyard, tendering his resignation from that body, and asked if it was the desire of members that it be presented, That there had been some prior caucusing by members upon the procedure to be adopted by the Council is evident from the discussion which ensued. Ebenezer Brigham stated that as the oldest member of the Council it had been thought proper, "after consultation," that he should submit such remarks and motions as the case might seem to call for. Disclaiming all unkind feeling toward Vineyard, he observed that the latter, by his action, had imprinted an indelible stain upon the Legislative Assembly and the Territory. For the Council to permit him to select his own mode of severing his connection with it would be to give this stain a deeper dye. He moved, therefore, that the communication be returned unread to its author. Some discussion followed, in the course of which the Council's right to refuse to receive the communication was called in question, which was brought to an end by an indignant speech by John H. Tweedy of Milwaukee. "A most flagrant outrage has been committed by a member of this body," he declared; "the dignity of the Council has been insulted and an indelible stigma has been cast upon the character of the Territory. It is our first and solemn duty to wipe out this foul stain, as far as possible, by proclaiming to the world in just and fitting terms our abhorrence and detestation of the course, and by renouncing all connection with the perpetrator of this offense. . . . This Council, if it has any regard to decency and its own dignity, will not consider, hear, or receive any communication, of any character, from the author of the letter before us, until his connection with this body is dissolved. That connection she will sever in her own waynot by permission to retire, but by ignominious expulsionand all other business will be laid aside until after that work is done."

The motion to return the communication unread was passed, only Moses M. Strong voting in the negative; and the following resolution was then presented by Mr. Brigham:

"Whereas the practice, hitherto unknown and unsuspected, of entering the legislative halls of our Territory with deadly weapons concealed about the person, has been within a few days introduced under circumstances justly calculated to arouse the deep indignation of our common country, and to disgrace the character of the Legislative Assembly.

"And whereas James R. Vineyard, a member of the Council, did, on Friday the eleventh instant, immediately after the adjournment, and in the presence of all the members and officers of this body, inflict a mortal wound upon the Hon. Charles C. P. Arndt, late a representative upon this floor from the county of Brown, by discharging a pistol which was concealed about his person, of which wound the said Hon. C. C. P. Arndt immediately expired.

"And whereas it is becoming this Council, in a manner appropriate to the occasion, to express to the world the feelings of horror and indignation with which we witnessed the perpetration, it is believed without justifiable cause, of this most wanton outrage against the life of our fellow member, the peace of society, the purity of our public councils, and the laws of God and man.

"And whereas by this foul deed, so disgraceful to the place and the occasion, the said James R. Vineyard has shown himself unworthy to be a member of this honorable body, therefore

"Resolved that James R. Vineyard, a member of the Council from the county of Grant, be and hereby is expelled, and the seat lately occupied by him declared vacant."

Moses Strong, who had already assumed the position of counsel for Vineyard, requested a division of the question, explaining that he was willing to vote for the preamble but not for the resolution. It was accordingly divided; the preamble was passed unanimously, and the resolution of expulsion with only the vote of Strong in the negative.

The Legislature had thus done all that lay within its power to express its condemnation of the killing. Well had it been for the reputation of Wisconsin had her press and her courts of justice taken a similar stand. The course pursued by these two agencies of society left much to be desired, and went far toward justifying the contemporary eastern opinionagainst the truth of which the territorial press was ever fond of inveighingthat Wisconsin was a region where lawlessness and violence flourished almost without restraint.

Some seven or eight papers comprised the roll of the territorial press in 1842. Their course with reference to the tragedy seems to indicate clearly that the press of that day failed to comprehend the modern distinction between news and political propaganda. The majority of the papers in the Territory were outspoken in their condemnation of Vineyard's act; two, however, the Madison Express and the Platteville Wisconsin Whig, had no word of disapproval for the killing, assuming an attitude of strict "neutrality" with reference to the issue involved. There ensued a wordy newspaper war, the course of which may be sufficiently illustrated from the two Madison papers, the Express and the Enquirer.

Both papers were published on Saturday, the day after the tragedy. Although it was far the most sensational news item in the history of the Territory, the Express disposed of it in a single paragraph which briefly stated the bare fact as to the shooting and concluded with these words "We decline giving any further particulars, as the whole affair is to undergo judicial investigation."

The Enquirer, on the other hand, appeared with the columns of the entire editorial page boxed in heavy mourning, as they had been for President Harrison a few months before. Describing the event, the editor continued with this comment: "We shall not, in the present justly excited state of public feeling, make such remarks in relation to this high-handed outrage as would seem to be called for suffice it for the present to say that the dastardly and fiendish perpetrator of this deed, which has disgraced our legislative halls and our Territory, is in the hands of the law, from which it is to be hoped he \ll not escape without that condign punishment which justice would seem to demand. Individual securitythe cause of public moralityeverything connected with the well-being and peace of society requires that the severest penalties of the law should be inflicted."

The ensuing issue of the Enquirer followed up this beginning with two strong editorials, one on the subject of carrying concealed weapons, the other on the attitude of the territorial press upon the killing of Arndt. "The press," it stated, "is justly considered the index to the public sentiment of the community where it is located. This is equally true in regard to the political, moral, or religious sentiments of any people. . . . Hence the solemn responsibility which rests upon the conductors of the public press. They are set not only as the guardians of the public right, but of the public fame; and when any act of violence and outrage occurs, they possess the power to a vast extent to place the responsibility where it belongs, or to involve a whole community of virtuous and innocent persons in the disgrace and infamy which belong only to the few."

In the editorial controversy which followed, the motives of each party to the debate were pointedly called in question. "The Enquirer," said the Wisconsin Whig, "appears to be particularly hostile to Mr. Vineyard; there must be some cause for the course of this paper, other than the death of Mr. Arndt; and the malicious attempt of that print to prejudice public opinion against Mr. Vineyard is worthy of a man of the most narrow soul and fiend like disposition, and we trust that the people who read the editorial remarks of the Enquirer will not be biased by them, but will let the facts develop themselves in due course of law." The Madison Express thus paid its respects'" to the Milwaukee Sentinel, which was edited by Harrison Reed: "It is painful to us, and doubtless to every feeling heart, and must be doubly so to the associates and relatives of all parties concerned to have this matter [the killing of Arndt] brought before the public week after week. We did not believe at first, nor do we now believe it a fit subject for newspaper discussion. But there appear to be persons who, vampire-like, are thirsting for the blood of the survivor, and who assail everyone who does not join with them in their cry for blood. Among these bloodhounds is Harrison Reed, senior editor of the Milwaukee Sentinel, the Judas who suffered his press to be sold to the opposition. This person in an article in his paper undertakes to censure the conduct of Col. Field and Hon. Moses M. Strong for consenting to take up on the part of the defense. The facts of the case are now, we presume, all before the public, and we believe no one with a heart less black than that of the senior editor of the Milwaukee Sentinel and Farmer will call it a crime of the first magnitude, nor wish the prisoner to come to trial without the aid of counsel."

To these broadsides the editors who were their objects reported with equal vigor. "Way a member of the legislature," asked the editor of the Enquirer, "in a legislative hall, in the presence of the whole Council and its officers, at high noon for an assault which could not have endangered life or limb, be shot dead upon the spot without a mark of disapprobation from the public press? While we remain connected with it we say no Never! Never, while we have the direction of a public journal, may we become deaf to the cry of a brother's blood. Never may we become so dead to the sympathies of human nature and the claims of bleeding humanity as to refuse to condemn a deed of darkness which might well spread horror and gloom over a whole nation, for the sake of saving the feelings ( ?) or shielding from justice the blood-guilty wretch who has thrown himself out of the pale of virtuous sympathy."

"The Express,'' said the Sentinel, "in consequence of a personal pique against Mr. Arndt, refuses to notice the fact other than as a 'melancholy affair' which was undergoing judicial investigation! The Editor of the Express is the printer for the Council and claims to be the organ of the Whigs here, but in this thing he has shown himself unworthy of the name of man and has called down upon his head the condemnation of the respectable of all parties here, for the niggardly spirit manifested in refusing to condemn this outrage."

The legal proceedings over the prosecution of Vineyard were as tedious as the newspaper discussion was spirited. The coroner's inquest over the body of Arndt merely found that he had come to his death as the result of a pistol wound inflicted by James R. Vineyard. A hearing before Justice-of-the-Peace Seymour followed, resulting in Vineyard's commitment to jail on a charge of murder. He had secured able counsel in the persons of Moses M. Strong of Mineral Point and Alexander P. Field, secretary of the Territory. Through their efforts a writ of habeas corpus was applied for before Judge Dunn of the Iowa County circuit; that official granted the application and admitted Vineyard to bail in the sum of twenty thousand dollars  ten thousand as principal and ten thousand as surety. At the May term of the district court for Dane County an indictment for manslaughter was returned by the grand jury, and on application of Vineyard's attorneys the case was continued to the November term of court. At this term the case was again continued until the May term of 1843. Then, fifteen months after the killing of Arndt, application for a change of venue was made, and granted by the court. In October following, the case finally came to trial before Judge David Irvin at Monroe; when given to the jury that body promptly endeared a verdict of acquittal, and the prosecution of Vineyard for the slaying of Arndt was at an end.

The news of this outcome of the trial provoked a fresh storm of editorial disapproval throughout the northern and eastern portions of the Territory. Every step in the course of the long-drawn-out judicial proceedings was sharply called in question, and charges of bribery and miscarriage of justice were openly made. "So far as a legal decision can exculpate deeds of atrocity and blood," wrote the editor of the Milwaukee Democrat, "and vindicate the character of the man who perpetrates them, Vineyard is to pass in community as a man whose character is unimpeachable. But it will be in vain for him, or for those bribed and perjured friends of his, who have, to screen him, enacted this perversion of lawthis mockery of justicethis contempt for the feelings of an outraged community, to attempt to wash out the blood of that foul assassination, or to stifle the cry of that blood for retribution. . . . Our horror at the deed is hardly greater than our astonishment, and indignation, and shame, at the thought that in such a case, and with the facts in the case so fully known and so notorious, a jury could yet be found in our community capable of pronouncing a verdict of acquittal. They have taken the unenviable responsibility of fastening upon our Territory the reputation, at home and abroad, of having connived at this work of assassination; and that in the most deliberate and formal manner, in their official capacity, and while sworn faithfully to bring a decision according to the evidence of facts in the case."

In similar strain was the comment of the Racine Advocate, edited by Marshall M. Strong, one of the most brilliant men of his day in Wisconsin. "This murder," he wrote in reviewing the case, "was perpetrated in the upper house of the territorial legislature, almost during its session, in open day before twenty witnesses, by one of the highest elective officers of the Territory. The criminal is first permitted to go at large on bail, then indicted for manslaughter, and finally acquitted of that even by a jury. This will forever remain a foul blot upon our Territory, We do hereby, and shall at all times pronounce the transaction murder. We enter our protest against the decision of the Court and Jury; and we hope that Vineyard, although he has escaped the legal punishment due to his crime, will never escape the effect of public opinion and the public abhorrence of this bloody tragedy."

More scathing even, was the disapproval expressed by Louis P. Harvey, editor of the Southport American and a future governor of Wisconsin. Reviewing the proceedings, he concluded: "Every circumstance, from the commencement to the conclusion of this farce in the shape of a prosecution, has pointed to this result. But the court that has thus wiped the stain of guilt from an acknowledged criminal, has left marks of disgrace upon itself that time cannot efface."

More than one critic stressed the charge that the trial of Vineyard disclosed the existence of two brands of justice in Wisconsin, one for the poor and friendless, the other for the rich and influential. "It was a short time after this occurrence [the killing of Arndt]," said the Southport Telegraph, "that one Coffee, in Iowa County, for provocation, took the life of a fellow-mortal. He was poor and friendless mark the result. At the next term of the court he was sentenced to be hung by the neck until he was dead, and without delay the sentence of the court was carried into effect. James R. Vineyard, with a weapon procured for some special purpose, after provoking a conflict with an unarmed man, shot him dead. He was rich and respectablemark the result. He now walks abroad with the honest and upright citizen. Is it strange under the circumstances we have no mob law?"

"At the time of the commission of the act," wrote one who signed himself "An Old Citizen of Brown" in the Green Bay Republican, "there was no law in existence for the removal of criminal cases, which would reach this case, but one was passed by the legislature, and the case is removed to Green County; and there remains untried until October, 1843, nearly two years after the commission of the crime!! In the meantime other crimes are punished; other murderers, who have taken human life under circumstances less atrocious and more justifiable, are tried, convicted, and executed, within a few months, and but a short distance from the scene of the 'Madison tragedy.' But others had not the standing in society which Vineyard had!! The other unfortunate was destitute of friends, and perhaps was without property and money. Moreover, he belonged not to the highest branch of the legislature, and took not the life of his victim in the legislative hall and in the sight of his fellows! No! Unfortunately he was in the lower walks of life, and killed his opponent in a tavern brawl!!" It is perhaps impossible at this late day to determine the reasonableness and validity of these complaints. It may be taken for granted that Vineyard's able counselors took advantage of every feature of the slipshod system of administering justice which told in favor of their client. If there was ever any evidence of bribery or perjury it has perished with the records of the trial, and we must, therefore, dismiss these charges from consideration. But even assuming that there was no outright violation of recognized practices, it is not difficult to see that Vineyard's wealth and his political and family influence may still have procured his acquittal.

Such influences would naturally accomplish their ends by indirection, leaving no trace behind for the historian to follow. In one respect adverted to by the "Old Citizen of Brown," however, we find what must be regarded as at least a suggestive coincidence. At the time of Arndt's killing there was no law for the removal of criminal cases applicable to this case. Six weeks later, within a few days after the killer had secured his release from prison on bail, he wrote to Strong, his attorney: "I wish most sincerely that you may not neglect to get a law passed changing venue in criminal cases, as you know the necessity of passing such a law."  Now Strong was, in addition to being Vineyard's attorney, one of the most astute and influential politicians in the Territory. At the succeeding session of the Legislature (for 1842-43) he was elected president of the Council, and at this session the desired act was passed.* Toward the end of March it became a law, and in May following, the change of venue which it made possible for Vineyard was taken. Evidently it was this for which counsel had been maneuvering, for with the change of venue granted they permitted the case to come to trial at the ensuing term of court.

Of the actual trial I have found but one contemporary description, written by a correspondent of the New York Tribune." The writer, who purports to be a traveler in the West, gives a sufficiently spirited picture of the scene, dwelling particularly upon the conduct of Strong. The jury, he says, from which every man giving outward signs of intelligence was rejected, was such a group as could not have been matched "this side of Botany Bay." Most of the article is devoted to an account of Strong's speech for the defendant. It relates that before commencing the address he had a pitcher of whiskey placed upon the table before him, from which, as he proceeded, he drank long and frequently, so that before the speech was half concluded he reeled to and fro like a drunken man. The truth of this story was denied by Strong, but the incident fixed upon him a colorful sobriquet which he tried in vain to live down, and for years he was known as "the knight of the pitcher."

From the vantage point of eighty years' detachment the Vineyard-Arndt affair is chiefly interesting for the light it sheds upon the ideals and practices of society in pioneer Wisconsin. It is easy now to perceive that Vineyard and Arndt were alike common victims of conditions for which they as individuals had but slight responsibility.

Today it would be inconceivable that a member of Congress or of our state legislature should carry a loaded gun to the sessions 'and with it, in the heat of sudden anger, blot out the life of a fellow member and friend. In 1842, however, dueling was still a well-known custom in the United States, and personal affrays between men of standing in the community were a recognized feature of life in the lead-mine region of Wisconsin. Vineyard was a Kentuckian who had been transplanted to the lead mines, and neither in Kentucky nor in southwest Wisconsin did society reprobate severely such action as he took in the affray with Arndt. It was several years after this that another transplanted Kentuckian, living in central Illinois, Abraham Lincoln, felt it incumbent upon him to participate in a duel. Less than four years before, the survivor of the tragic Graves-Cilley duel had publicly disclaimed, on the floor of Congress, responsibility for his act. "I am not, and never have been, the advocate of the anti-social and unchristian practice of dueling. I have never, up to this day, fired a dueling pistol. . . . Public opinion is practically the paramount law of the land; every other law, both human and divine, ceases to be observed; yea, withers and perishes, in contact with it. It was this paramount law of this nation and of this House that forced me, under the penalty of dishonor, to subject myself to the code which impelled me unwillingly into this tragical affair. Upon the heads of this nation, and at the doors of this House, rests the blood with which my unfortunate hands have been stained." A decade after Vineyard killed Arndt at Madison, Senator Foote menaced Senator Benton with a cocked and loaded pistol on the floor of the United States Senate, and several years later still, John F. Potter of Wisconsin won unbounded popularity throughout the North by his proposal to fight a duel with bowie knives.

Coming to the mines, the carrying of concealed weapons was a prevalent practice in this period.' A year before the Arndt killing, Charles Bracken, a prominent resident of the mines and a member of the Territorial Legislature, seriously wounded Henry Welch, editor of the Miners' Free Press, in a shooting affray on the streets of Mineral Point. No punishment was meted out in this case, and Bracken even had the assurance to write a letter threatening the editors of the Madison Enquirer with chastisement, because of the manner in which that paper had commented on his affray with Welch. It was five years after the Arndt tragedy that Denis Murphy was shot down at Mineral Point, for publicly cow hiding an attorney of that place. A year later still, Enos S. Baker, the very man over the question of whose nomination for sheriff of Grant County Arndt was killed, cowhides Joseph T. Mills at Lancaster, and a few days later, armed with a six-barrel pistol, met Mills, armed this time with a shotgun, and was assisted from the field with several buckshot in his stomach.

We cite these cases, every one dealing with men of standing and leadership, merely by way of illustrating the state of public opinion in the region to which Vineyard belonged. To that opinion his attorneys confidently appealed when they secured the change of venue for their client to Green County. Their confidence was justified by his prompt acquittal even on a mere charge of manslaughter. It was evidenced even more clearly before the trial and while the indictment against Vineyard was still pending, when he offered himself as candidate for the office of sheriff of Grant County and came within a few votes of being elected. A few years later he was elected to membership in the first constitutional convention, and in 1849 to a seat in the Legislature of the new state.

It may be objected that the foregoing contradicts what has been previously said as to the widespread condemnation of Vineyard by the press of the Territory. The contradiction is apparent, merely, rather than real. No paper of the mining region spoke in condemnation of Vineyard or in criticism of the court procedure upon his case. The clamor of criticism and condemnation came wholly from that portion of the Territory' which lay without the mines. Between the people of the mines, where Southern stock and Southern ideals predominated, and those of the eastern and northern counties, which were settled largely by New England and New York stock, was a wide disparity of ideals and habits. The sentiment of the North had been slowly setting against the practice of dueling for many years, when in 1838 the feeling was intensified by the senseless killing of Jonathan Cilley of Maine by William R. Graves of Kentucky. In that duel, George W. Jones of the lead mines, Wisconsin's delegate in Congress, had acted as second to one of the principals; for this he was severely criticized by his constituents in eastern Wisconsin, and this criticism contributed materially to his defeat by James D. Doty when he sought to succeed himself in the delegacy.' The affray between Arndt and Vineyard illuminates as with a flash of lightning the differing ideals of the mining region and the eastern part of the state with respect to individual combat. To the latter section. Vineyard's act was plain murder, and the actor merited the rope; among the mines the same act was plainly regarded as an incident, regrettable in itself no doubt, which was bound to be met with on occasion in the public life of a gentleman.'

It remains to notice the gravest charge of all made by the critics of the court. Were there in fact two brands of justice in Wisconsin, one reserved for the prominent citizen, the; other meted out to the poor and humble? In so far as personal affrays are concerned, it seems evident that an affirmative answer must be given. Dueling was a practice distinctly reserved for gentlemen; the humble and obscure were alike free from the obligations of the code and denied the privilege of exemption from legal responsibility when on occasion they essayed to practice it. Pioneer Wisconsin had few scruples against capital punishment, and those who took human life in bar-room brawls or ordinary murders were repeatedly sent to the gallows. When, however, a sheriff shot up a political opponent, or an editor fell in an impromptu duel with a politician whom he had deliberately goaded to the encounter, there was no force of public opinion powerful enough to restrain or punish the malefactors. It seems clear that to the people of the mines Vineyard's case belonged to the latter category; hence he was restored to freedom, with rights of citizenship unimpaired; while Coffee, who killed his man in a tavern brawl, was sent to the gallows.

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Source: The Wisconsin Magazine of History (Publications of the State Historical Society) Vol 5 1921-1922
Transcribed and submitted to Genealogy Trails by Friends For Free Genealogy

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