on all sides upon the pretext that they were impertinent and “game niggers.”  An instance is mentioned in the Times-Democrat of the twenty-fifth and shows the treatment which unoffending colored men received at the hands of some of the officers.  This instance shows Corporal Trenchard, who displayed such remarkable bravery on Monday night in dodging Charles’s revolver, in his true light.  It shows how brave a white man is when he has a gun attacking a Negro who is a helpless prisoner.  The account is as follows: 

The police made some arrests in the neighborhood of the killing of the two officers.  Mobs of young darkies gathered everywhere.  These Negroes talked and joked about the affair, and many of them were for starting a race war on the spot.  It was not until several of these little gangs amalgamated and started demonstrations that the police commenced to act.  Nearly a dozen arrests were made within an hour, and everybody in the vicinity was in a tremor of excitement.

It was about 1 o’clock that the Negroes on Fourth Street became very noisy, and George Meyers, who lives on Sixth Street, near Rampart, appeared to be one of the prime movers in a little riot that was rapidly developing.  Policeman Exnicios and Sheridan placed him under arrest, and owing to the fact that the patrol wagon had just left with a number of prisoners, they walked him toward St. Charles Avenue in order to get a conveyance to take him to the Sixth Precinct station.

A huge crowd of Negroes followed the officers and their prisoners.  Between Dryades and Baronne, on Sixth, Corporal Trenchard met the trio.  He had his pistol in his hand and he came on them running.  The Negroes in the wake of the officers, and prisoner took to flight immediately.  Some disappeared through gates and some over fences and into yards, for Trenchard, visibly excited, was waving his revolver in the air and was threatening to shoot.  He joined the officers in their walk toward St. Charles Street, and the way he acted led the white people who were witnessing the affair to believe that his prisoner was the wanted Negro.  At every step he would punch him or hit him with the barrel of his pistol, and the onlookers cried, “Lynch him!” “Kill him!” and other expressions until the spectators were thoroughly wrought up.  At St. Charles Street Trenchard desisted, and, calling an empty ice wagon, threw the Negro into the body of the vehicle and ordered Officer Exnicios to take him to the Sixth Precinct station.

The ride to the station was a wild one.  Exnicios had all he could do to watch his prisoner.  A gang climbed into the wagon and administered a terrible thrashing to the black en route.  It took a half hour to reach the police station, for the mule that was drawing the wagon was not overly fast.  When the station was reached a mob of nearly 200 howling white youths was awaiting it.  The noise they