of artillery with four guns, commanded by a Captain Johns, formerly of the army, and two or three uniformed companies of infantry.  After dinner I went down town to see what was going on; found that King had been removed to a room in the Metropolitan Block; that his life was in great peril; that Casey was safe in jail, and the sheriff had called to his assistance a posse of the city police, some citizens, and one of the militia companies.  The people were gathered in groups on the streets, and the words “Vigilance Committee” were freely spoken, but I saw no signs of immediate violence.  The next morning, I again went to the jail, and found all things quiet, but the militia had withdrawn.  I then went to the City Hall, saw the mayor, Van Ness, and some of the city officials, agreed to do what I could to maintain order with such militia as were on hand, and then formally accepted the commission, and took the “oath.”

In 1851 (when I was not in California) there had been a Vigilance Committee, and it was understood that its organization still existed.  All the newspapers took ground in favor of the Vigilance Committee, except the Herald (John Nugent, editor), and nearly all the best people favored that means of redress.  I could see they were organizing, hiring rendezvous, collecting arms, etc., without concealment.  It was soon manifest that the companies of volunteers would go with the “committee,” and that the public authorities could not rely on them for aid or defense.  Still, there were a good many citizens who contended that, if the civil authorities were properly sustained by the people at large, they could and would execute the law.  But the papers inflamed the public mind, and the controversy spread to the country.  About the third day after the shooting of King, Governor Johnson telegraphed me that he would be down in the evening boat, and asked me to meet him on arrival for consultation.  I got C. H. Garrison to go with me, and we met the Governor and his brother on the wharf, and walked up to the International Hotel on Jackson Street, above Montgomery.  We discussed the state of affairs fully; and Johnson, on learning that his particular friend, William T. Coleman, was the president of the Vigilance Committee, proposed to go and see him.  En route we stopped at King’s room, ascertained that he was slowly sinking, and could not live long; and then near midnight we walked to the Turnverein Hall, where the committee was known to be sitting in consultation.  This hall was on Bush Street, at about the intersection of Stockton.  It was all lighted up within, but the door was locked.  The Governor knocked at the door, and on inquiry from inside “Who’s there?”—­gave his name.  After some delay we were admitted into a sort of vestibule, beyond which was a large hall, and we could hear the suppressed voices of a multitude.  We were shown into a bar-room to the right, when the Governor asked to see Coleman.  The man left us, went into the