there.  The Judge said, “Go and put him under lock and key, and, if necessary, put him in irons.”  The deputy came to me and said, “The Judge has sent me to put you under lock and key; let me turn the key upon you in your own office.”  At this I became indignant, and asked for his warrant or commitment to hold me.  He replied that he had none, that only a verbal order was given to him by the Judge in the street.  I then told him he must go away from me and leave me alone.  He replied that, “as he was acting by the orders of the sheriff, whose deputy he was, in obeying the Judge, he must do as he had been directed.”  He added, “I will lock the door anyway,” and doing so he went off.  I immediately sued out a writ of habeas corpus returnable before Henry P. Haun, the County Judge.  The writ was executed forthwith, and the same evening I was taken before the Judge.  There was a great crowd present.  I called the sheriff to the stand and asked him if he had any writ, process, commitment, or order by which he held me in custody.  He replied that he had none.  I then put on the stand Samuel B. Mulford and Jesse O. Goodwin and several others, who were present in the District Court where the scenes narrated had occurred, and they testified that there was nothing disrespectful in my language or manner; that I had not used an expression at which anybody could justly take offence; and that they had been utterly surprised at the conduct of the Judge, which was violent and tyrannical; and that they saw no possible excuse for it.  This testimony was of course of no consequence on the question presented by the habeas corpus; because, as there was no order or warrant for my arrest in the possession of the officer, I could not, under any circumstances, be held; but I wished to show my friends, who had not been present in the court-room, the facts of the case.

I was of course at once discharged.  But the matter did not end there.  An excited crowd was present, and as I left the court-room they cheered enthusiastically.  I thereupon invited them to the Covillaud House, a public house in the town, and directed the keeper to dispense to them the good things of his bar.  The champagne was accordingly uncorked without stint, and the best Havana boxes were soon emptied of their most fragrant cigars.  A bill of $290 paid the next day settled the account.  Whilst the boys were thus enjoying themselves, Judge Turner, who was not far off, entered the Covillaud House, perfectly furious, and applied obscene and vile epithets to the County Judge, declaring with an oath that he would teach “that fellow” that he was an inferior judge, and that the witnesses before him were a set of “perjured scoundrels” who should be expelled from the bar.  Similar threats were made by him in different saloons in the town, to the disgust of every one.  That evening he was burned in effigy in the public plaza.  I had nothing to do with that act, and did not approve of it.  I did not know then, and do not know to this day who were engaged in it.  He attributed it to me, however, and his exasperation towards me in consequence became a malignant fury.