Sailing to the Land of Promise | Gold in California | Marshall of Nevada City | Inquest into the Sheriff's Death | Rebuilding

CALIFORNIA, NEVADA, and IDAHO

SAILING TO THE LAND OF PROMISE

On the day James Marshall dipped his hand in the tailrace of Sutter's sawmill and scooped out the first gold nugget, Henry Plummer was only fifteen years old. When he was but nineteen and the state of California not yet two, Plummer left home and family and joined the rush west. Following the mail route that had been established by the government, he sailed from New York harbor on a steamer bound for Panama. The goals he sought in California were both health and wealth; he had apparently contracted tuberculosis while very young, and at the time going west was commonly considered a good remedy for delicate health. After a few days at sea, the mail steamer entered the zones of "genial warmth" those crowded aboard had been looking forward to, and on the eighth day they caught their first glimpse of a tropical shore: "With what infinite delight did the first comers to the tropics land on this shore, l skirted with palms and bananas!" wrote one passenger. "Lolling negroes, chattering monkeys, croaking papagayos, piles of coconuts, plantains, oranges, and pineapples, thatched shanties, stagnant ditches, clouds of mosquitos -- all greeted us at once." The small port of Aspinwall in Navy Bay, in which they disembarked, was actually nothing more than a "miserable collection of huts" set in a jungle swamp, where busy washerwomen wrung out their laundry and dangled it to dry on the arms of statues of Columbus and the Indian princess who first greeted him on his arrival to the new world.[1]

Leaving Aspinwall, the enormous party of gold hunters crossed the forty-eight-mile stretch of mosquito-infested jungle of the isthmus on muleback. After four days they reached the city of Panama, "squalid and poor," with its roughly cobbled streets and adobe huts thatched over with palm leaves, though in the distance they could discern the outlines of once magnificent brick and stone buildings, now overgrown with a tangle of vines and trees, that had formerly housed the ancient city that had been sacked into ruin by the British buccaneer Sir Henry Morgan.

At the Grand Hotel, filled to nearly bursting, the travelers waited for the Golden Gate, the steamer that would take them to their destination, passing the time by visiting the dusty street markets during the heat of the day and strolling along the seawall promenade in the evening. When on 8 May the ship arrived, all were disappointed to learn that the second leg of their journey would be as uncomfortable as the first. Before the feverish influx to gold country, steamers had provided their passengers with all the luxuries of a pleasure cruise: fine china, gourmet meals, and solicitous service.

But such niceties became impossible under the present overcrowded conditions. The Golden Gate had space for seven hundred fifty persons, but on Plummer's voyage, one thousand fifty first-class passengers and five hundred eight steerage passengers were jammed aboard, forcing the majority to live and sleep on the deck and resulting in what the captain described as a "pandemonium of drunkenness and riot, from her departure until her arrival," actually a rather fitting introduction into what lay ahead at the gold fields. On their third day out came the first casualty. One of the ship firemen, a native of Ireland, died of what the ship doctor diagnosed as congestion of the brain. On the seventh day, they put into port at Acapulco, allowing the ship to take on water and the passengers to go ashore to buy fresh fruit. When after fourteen hours they again set sail, they followed close alongside a wild shoreline backed by high mountain peaks. The second day from Acapulco another death occurred on board, a passenger from New York who had come down with dysentery. For the final days of the journey, they encountered strong head winds that delayed them, not arriving until 21 May 1852 after twelve days at sea, in the harbor of San Francisco, already clogged with other members of the Gold Rush Fleet.[2] Beyond the harbor they could see a range of lofty mountains looming up out of the fog. Plummer had at last reached the land of golden opportunity.

Perhaps it was not quite what he had been expecting throughout the long trip. The three barren hills on which the town was built slanted down to a series of muddy fiats curving around the bay. There hundreds of tents and canvas sheds were randomly scattered, and on a slope directly in front of their ship stood a plaza, where a low, adobe-brick customhouse sprawled, flying a weathered stars and stripes in the fierce wind. The business section was littered with boxes of dry goods stacked in front of half-finished buildings and jammed with people of all races and nationalities, scurrying in every direction and pushing to be next to step onto the planks sunk in the deep mire in the street. The majority of the places of business were drinking houses, but also well represented were gambling dens, equipped with the usual monte and faro tables, and bawdy houses, decked out with gaudy furnishings and expensive baubles. There were also more than one hundred restaurants where the ship passenger, weary of the tiresome sea diet, could order a glass of fresh milk and an excellent cut of prime beef, or, if the budget allowed, some of the more cosmopolitan delights such as oysters and roast duck.

Though when Plummer arrived the gold rush was reaching its peak and the town was badly overcrowded, he was able to find a room at 48 Bush Street. Shortly after, he located work as an accounts clerk at a business at 128 Montgomery, very convenient to his rooming house.[3] However, it was not long until he was ready to make his way to the source of the wealth he had heard so much about and booked passage on a steamer up the Sacramento River bound for the mines at Nevada City, touted as one of the richest diggings in California and also lamented as one of the roughest.

Plummer had spent his childhood and youth in the secure atmosphere of a stable, prosperous family of New England, but his young manhood was now to be spent in the gold camp society. Wild, transitory, and completely lacking in stabilizing influence, the closest thing to home life for the majority of gold seekers was the camaraderie found in the saloons and the goal of the adventurers gathered from all corners of the earth was becoming rich. He was receptive to his new environment in which each man was a law unto himself, quickly noting all the signs of manhood recognized by his peers: cursing, drinking, gambling, and most important, instantly defending oneself against insult or threat of violence from others.

GOLD IN CALIFORNIA

The first evidence that Plummer was living in Nevada City comes in 1853, a notice in the newspaper that a letter was waiting for him at the post office. The letter addressed to Henry Plumer, his correctly spelled name, arrived in the mail on 1 July and was promptly picked up.[4] Plummer's first occupation in the area was ranching and mining with a partner from the state of Maine, the Robinson and Plummer ranch being located three miles northeast of Nevada City in the Wilson Valley along the road to the mining camp of Washington. In September the two partners placed an advertisement in the Nevada City Journal announcing that "a large, bay ox, marked with a triangular figure on the right hip" had strayed into their corral and requesting the rightful owner to come and claim his property.[5]

Plummer and Robinson, like many others in the area, were having good success with the mine. Nevada City had followed the typical growth pattern of the mining camps, first attracting placer miners in the autumn of 1849 along Deer Creek, where reportedly large hunks of gold could be hacked out of the banks with no more than a pocket knife. According to old-timers, in these early days "gold dust could be safely left in the rockers at the diggings, or at the cabins, and crime of every kind was extremely rare. Almost the only offences against the public were brawls caused by liquor, usually bloodless."[6] But as word of the rich outcroppings spread, growth became so rapid that within a year more than ten thousand miners had flocked in, and along the worn mule trails leading up from Deer Creek a picturesque little town developed -- a Wells Fargo office, a few general merchandise stores, and a Methodist church of planed-lumber built on the narrow streets winding their way up to a few cabins perched on the sides or tops of seven wooded hills.

In spring of 1851, a problem cropped up that was to continue to plague the community from time to time for several years to come. A fire broke out downtown and destroyed nearly every house of business before it could be extinguished. Then in the fall of 1852, twelve of the buildings that had been rebuilt in the "wooden town" following the devastation were again consumed by fire, and winter brought a new threat -- famine -- as heavy rains made roads to Nevada City impassable, provisions barely holding out until new supplies could be brought in.

The following year, with creek beds and banks gradually becoming panned out, miners commenced burrowing hundreds of "coyote holes" in search of the gold embedded in veins beneath the surface, quartz mining coming into full swing within a few months with its resulting around-the-clock, deafening clatter of stamp mills crushing down tons of ore to a fine powder and setting free minute amounts of precious metal.

Besides a number of saloons (the Empire being the finest and most popular), by 1853 Nevada had added another newspaper, the Nevada City Democrat, the New York Hotel was accepting guests, and Dramatic Hall on Broad and Pine streets was hosting dramas performed by locals, as well as programs by celebrities making the gold camp circuits. The census taken that year paints a fairly clear picture of life in the settlement Plummer had chosen for his new home. The entire population of Nevada County consisted of 22,000 Indians, 21,000 whites (of which only 920 were female), and 4,000 Chinese. Other residents, listed in order of their prolificacy, were 4,200 hogs, 3,600 work oxen, 2,600 fowls, 2,200 beef cattle, 1,700 cows, 1,300 horses, and 800 mules. As for industry, thirty-three quartz mills were in operation, but many miners were already starting to become discouraged with the many dangers and difficulties involved in hardrock mining, such as cave-ins, floods, and other accidents, and were selling out to large companies who purchased individual 30- by 40-foot claims and consolidated them.[7]

Several astute miners, Plummer included, had also come to realize there was more money to be made on main street of Nevada than at the diggings anyhow. With his substantial profits, Plummer, now twenty-two years old, moved to town, purchased a house and lot on the south side of Spring Street, and invested in a business, whose advertisement from an April 1854 paper appears below:

UNITED STATES BAKERY

The proprietors of the United States Bakery, Pine Street, under the Dramatic Hall, return thanks to a generous public for the very, very liberal patronage heretofore bestowed upon them. They have recently fitted up... their building in a splendid order for the purpose of accommodating the public. Every article will be manufactured of the very best material with the utmost taste, care and cleanliness. The best assortment of bread, cake, and pastry to be found at all times on hand, together with a well selected stock of pie, fruits, etc., fresh peaches, apples, plums, figs, raisins, green peas, green corn, oysters, clams, sardines, tomatoes, and a good assortment of confectionaries, cigars, etc. Their aim is to make the best of everything and sell for a small profit. "Live and let live." PLUMER AND HEYER[8]

In February 1855, fire again struck Nevada City, this time destroying fifteen houses, a billiard saloon, the Hotel de Paris, and the competition's bakery. The United States Bakery was bypassed by the flames. The month following the fire Plummer bought out his partner and took over the business alone, only to receive such a good offer himself that he in turn sold out. Then he and Heyer repeated the exact process. They formed a new partnership, "fitted up in style the saloon known as the Polka," opened the City Bakery on Broad Street, and built it into a prosperous business, which Heyer sold to Plummer and which a short time later Plummer also sold.[10]

The year 1855 was not only a prosperous one for Plummer and Heyer, but also for the town as a whole, which had incorporated, elected a marshall, and built a two-cell jail out of sawed logs. Downtown boasted a total of twenty brick buildings now, all reputed to be fireproof, one of which was a towering three-story hotel, a "conspicuous ornament" that gave "an air of permanence to the place," the newspaper reported, "which no other mining town in the state" could equal.[11]

In November Plummer sold his house and lot to his former business partner, Henry Heyer, for the sum of $1,000, and the property deed provides conclusive proof of Plummer's legal name, despite the clerk's misspelling the surname by adding an extra "m." Though the document lists the seller as William H. Plummer, the notary public has written at the bottom, "Personally appeared Henry Plummer known to me to be the individual described in and who executed the foregoing instrument."[12]

The close of the year brought the town alive with advertisement of the approaching election of a new marshall, posters plastered about town in behalf of the several candidates, whom the Journal listed as Dave Johnson, U. S. Gregory, Sylvester McClintock, and Henry Plumer, "all gentlemen of nerve." Later the winner was announced as Dave Johnson, but in mentioning the fourth candidate, the reporter had made a prophetic error: the name should have been Asher, not Plumer.[13]

MARSHALL OF NEVADA CITY

Plummer had come West to put down roots, purchasing a home, setting up in business, and making friends it would be difficult to leave. But homesickness was said to be the most prevalent ailment on the frontier and he had a case. Selling everything he had acquired, he bid his friends farewell and traveled to San Francisco to book passage home on the next steamer. While he was waiting, though, he had second thoughts, not just about the many opportunities he was giving up or about leaving the California sunshine, but about a particular girl, and he changed his mind.[14] Returning to Nevada City, he again bought a home on Spring Street and formed a new partnership with Heyer.

Nevada City did not have all the advantages of the East; still it was flourishing and developing an "air of decided civilization," having cast the third largest vote in the state of California in the past election, plus it now offered the drinking crowd, who were in a decided majority, a choice of sixty-five different establishments when they had a yen to purchase "spirits."[15] Attempting to keep order in the county had proven to be an awesome, if not impossible, assignment, but Plummer had not followed the gold rush to become a businessman. Fitting out a frontier store that could serve the same fine pastries as a New York bakery had been an interesting challenge, but it did not suit Plummer's temperament all that well. In addition to his predilection for creating order out of chaos, he had a craving for action and excitement that was not being fulfilled. Early in the year he became active in the Democratic party, and when party officials offered him the position of city marshall on their spring ticket, he accepted. Party members realized the race would not be an easy one. The incumbent, David Johnson, had been energetic in going after the rowdy element and was himself respectable enough to earn the support of most of the townspeople.

Though the well-organized and ably led Democrats launched a vigorous campaign for the entire ticket, the outcome of the marshall race appeared too close to call. Johnson, bolstered by his good record and backed by influential friends as well as the Journal, was running on the American Party ticket, which was making every effort to hold on to its existing power. By morning of election day, 2 May 1856, the two candidates for marshall were running neck and neck and continued that way right down to poll closing that evening. When the final vote was tallied, it was discovered that Plummer had squeaked by Johnson with a majority of only seven votes -- 424 to 417. The Journal, something of a sore loser, wrote that

good citizens desirous of order, and not bigoted with so-called Democracy voted the American ticket.... Of all the men within the city proper, who pay to keep up a city organization, two-thirds voted for the American candidate for Marshal. But outsiders from Rough and Ready, Red Dog, Alpha, Rush Creek, and in short from almost every mining camp in the county, would have beaten by hard swearing the "oldest man in the world."... The infallible symptoms of democracy -- broken English, hiccuping, yelling -- were too strong to put anyone at a loss to diagnose.[16]

After the election, Plummer maintained the business partnership with Heyer and may have had mining partnerships as well. His salary as marshall was considerable, amounting to $1,200 a year plus 5 percent of taxes collected and fees levied in justice court. He was required to post a bond of $6,000 and was expected in his new role to fulfill four primary duties, not all of which were exciting. First, he was to keep an orderly town, that is, arrest persons breaching the peace, suppress riots, take into custody vagrants or "suspicious persons whose appearance and conduct may seem to justify their being called to account for their manner of living," and arrest any persons making threats of violence. For these purposes he was authorized to enter "any house in which may exist a riot or disturbance or other proceedings calculated to disturb the peace of the neighborhood."[17] A second duty was to prescribe rules for the protection of the town, especially from fire, and he was also responsible for collecting property taxes, issuing business and public performance licenses, and receiving payment of fines levied for violation of city ordinances. After recording accounts of monies collected in books that were at all times open to the inspection by the board of trustees and turning over all funds to the treasurer, he was to present to the board a monthly statement of the city's finances. His final duty was to enforce the following town ordinances:

1. Fast riding in town is not lawful: a horse, mule or any other animal must be held to a pace of a slow gallop or trot and to a walk over bridges. "Furious riding" will draw a fine of $50.
2. It shall not be lawful for any person to discharge in town any firearms or fireworks between the hours of 3 to 5 P.M.
3. It is unlawful to throw into streets any rubbish, such as "old boots, shoes, shavings, clothes, vegetables, meats, etc."
4. It is unlawful for hogs to run at large within the city limits.
5. "Any male or female who shall indecently expose himself or herself in the streets or in the doorways or windows of any house so as to be visible from the street or any female who shall dress and appear in the streets in men's clothing or any male who shall dress in female clothing and appear in the streets shall be fined."
6. Every store and house must have a stovepipe that extends at least twenty-four inches above the roof and must keep handy a ladder, barrel of water, and two buckets to extinguish sparks that might ignite the roof.

Plummer and two friends had entered the billiard saloon one evening for a little recreation, but even before they could get a game going, a brawl broke out. When a Mr. Johnson pulled the nose of a Mr. Post and then pushed him against the bar, Plummer stepped in to restrain Johnson. But the owner of the saloon, Lewis, objected to the young marshall trying to keep order in his establishment, saying that "he would keep peace in his house, that he had always kept an orderly house, and would still do so, peaceably if he could, or by force." Though Plummer's companion, Jordan, who just that afternoon had been released on bail of $500 for breaking a teamster's jaw, suggested to Lewis that he allow Johnson and Post to fight it out, the owner did not want any more suggestions as to how he should run his saloon, and a new altercation broke out between him and Jordan. Bragging that he could whip Lewis anytime, Jordan followed after the owner as he attempted to retreat behind the bar, casually replying that it was not true that his customer could whip him. When Jordan insisted that he could whip him, Lewis responded that he was nothing but a liar, and Jordan, angered at the insult, called Lewis a "d -- -- d son of a b -- - h," at the same time reaching across the counter to hit at him. Snatching up his gun, Lewis fired at Jordan, who had crouched down, peeking up over the bar with a glass tumbler in his hand as a weapon, and though Lewis missed Jordan, he did hit Johnson, the original troublemaker. Quickly firing again, Lewis this time struck Jordan in the chest, killing him immediately. Plummer now moved to arrest Lewis, but was prevented from doing so by the wounded Johnson, who was scrambling to obtain a pistol for himself. As Plummer was fending off Johnson with his police club, Lewis sent out for the county officers and surrendered himself to Sheriff Wright rather than give in to Marshall Plummer. During the moments the decision was being made as to who should arrest Lewis, Sheriff Wright or Plummer, Johnson took advantage of the opportunity to flee into the streets, complaining loudly of the bad treatment he had just received at Plummer's hands. [19] In reporting the incident, the Journal criticized the new marshall for not having arrested Johnson after he had hit him on the head with a club, but instead letting him wander the streets "raving and delirious from the effects of the blows" and thereby disturbing the "quiet of the town." Obviously, the quiet section of town referred to in the news item was nowhere in the close vicinity of the billiard saloon.

The following month saw the occurrence of a second sort of catastrophe Plummer was expected to prevent. The Great Fire of 1856 broke out late one afternoon in a blacksmith shop on Pine Street and within a half hour from the sounding of the alarm the entire town had been literally destroyed -- four hundred wooden houses as well as the "believed fireproof" brick buildings. The new courthouse, recently completed at a cost of $50,000, was also gone and with it all county records, which must now be rerecorded. The loss of Plummer and Heyer's business was calculated at $1,600, and the total cost of the destruction to the town was estimated at 1.5 million dollars. Even worse, ten lives were lost, men who had trusted they would be safe inside the new brick structures after locking the iron window shutters.[20] It was clear the marshall would have to enforce the fire ordinance much more stringently.

Plummer's first two months in office, at least as reported by the Journal, were not a very auspicious beginning to a career as a peace officer, but evidently the Democratic party still held high hopes for him. In September they selected him as one of the twelve members of their executive committee, the ruling body of the party, and the same month nominated him as one of the delegates to the county convention, though he fell short of being one of the ten highest and therefore was not sent.[21] His big break came the next month.

For some time a young robber by the name of Jim Webster had been making Yuba County nearly unsafe to live in. Though Webster had at one time been a hard-working miner, when several men tried to jump his claim, he had shot them all and then fled rather than involve himself in the justice process. From that point, he followed a life of crime, robbing, chalking up several more murders, and in general inspiring fear in local residents. Plummer succeeded in bringing him in. Webster, reportedly a friend of the Tom Bell gang, was a desperate man and very prone to breaking jail, especially from a building of such low security as the one temporarily being used to replace the jail that had burned with the new courthouse. The present facility was secured only by a door fastened from the outside with a small padlock and guarded by a keeper who might be either absent or sleeping at any time during his watch. Webster was soon gone from the temporary jail, and Plummer was again sent after him. The Democrat reports the ensuing events:

Jim Webster, who broke out of jail in this place, on Wednesday night last, was re-arrested by Mr. Plumer, our efficient city Marshal, on Saturday morning, and is again lodged in jail. Mr. Plumer had got intelligence that Lee Schell, the supposed accomplice of Webster, was at Empire Ranch, and on Friday evening, in company with Bruce Garvey started for that place, in the hope of finding Webster. On arriving at the ranch, they ascertained that two persons answering the description of Webster and Schell had left that place, and gone towards Marysville. They proceeded as far as Smartville, in Yuba county, where they overhauled them. When found, they were asleep in bed, with their pistols under their heads. The pistols were quietly removed, and the two worthies taken into custody, and brought back to this place the same day.[22]

(Click on image to see full size)
Nevada City, California, Firehouse, built in 1861. Though a popular city marshall, after the Great Fire of 1856, Plummer alienated merchants by a stricter enforcement of fire ordinances, contributing to his upset in the race for state assemblyman. (Photo by Boswell, 1985)

The last time Plummer and Garvey had brought in Webster, he had asked to stop off at the cabin of the friend who was to provide an alibi in his upcoming trial and Plummer had agreed. The marshall had now received a tip that Webster had gone to the same friend for help, and he and Wright were hoping to surprise him at the cabin. While Plummer, Garvey, and Sheriff Wright were making preparations to leave on the manhunt, the local Democrats were making preparations to hold a torchlight rally in connection with the upcoming national election in which their candidate, James Buchanan, was opposing the Republican, John Fremont. In the excitement preceding the gala event, few in town gave any thought to the danger that might lay ahead for the party on their way for a third try at bringing in Webster, but by nightfall, Sheriff Wright was to be dead, Deputy Dave Johnson wounded, and the torchlight parade and political speeches called off.

INQUEST INTO THE SHERIFF'S DEATH

Wright had been a family man and a popular sheriff, gruff but basically kindhearted, and all business houses closed for his funeral, the cortege of carriages and men on horseback being the longest ever seen in town. The inquest into the cause of his death conducted the same day as the funeral, though, brought out some surprises. For one thing, after agreeing with Plummer that the posse should be composed of no more than three men, the sheriff had secretly asked three others to come along, but trailing far enough behind so Plummer and Garvey would not notice. These three additional men were Teal, Butterfield, and David Johnson, who since his defeat as marshall had been serving Wright as a deputy. But before the posse could get underway to the cabin where Webster was supposed to be hiding, a Mr. McCutchin brought news to Plummer of two horses, probably intended for the escape of the prisoners, being staked in a ravine on Gold Flat.

Plummer and Wright decided to check the ravine before the cabin. [23]

McCutchin had been sent by Mr. Robinson, the first one to spot the horses, who said he would wait on a bank above the ravine until the sheriff arrived. McCutchin forgot to tell Plummer that Robinson was still guarding the horses, but it probably would not have helped anyhow since while Robinson was waiting on the bank above the ravine, a prominent citizen by the name of Wallace Williams had shown up, and jumping at the chance to play lawman had informed Robinson he would take over. Neglecting to tell Williams that the authorities had already been sent for, Robinson left, saying if he should return, he would whistle so he would not be mistaken for the prisoners and fired upon. After assuring the departing Robinson that he would be on the lookout for his possible return, Williams hastily recruited a party of volunteers -- Baldwin, Armstrong, and Vanhook -- armed them with revolvers and shotguns, concealed them behind trees and in a ditch so as to form a semicircle around the horses, and instructed them that when the wanted men came to mount the horses, he would give a command for those hidden to step out, order the prisoners to halt, and if they did not, all were to commence firing at them.

Wallace Williams was accustomed to giving orders. He was the only child and business partner of Squire Williams, one of the wealthiest men in town and owner of two ranches, a mine, the local waterworks, and several town properties that included Temperance Hall. The squire and his wife, both from aristocratic families, were busy laying plans to recapture the charm of the plantation life left behind by building a huge mansion for the family, a four-story brick castle to be set atop Prospect Hill. Wallace, who had been sent to law school by his parents and was just preparing to open an office, felt more than qualified to handle the recapture of Webster without involving the sheriff or marshall.

From the first, Plummer had told Wright he would prefer that the marshall's men handle the capture by themselves, but since

Wright insisted on coming, Plummer picked up the horses at the stable and then stopped by for the sheriff. Though the marshall was impatient to start, Wright dallied, Plummer growing more restless by the minute. Then the second messenger sent by Robinson before he had left appeared, this one named McCormick, who, seeing Plummer waiting in the street, told him to "go as quick as he could." Others in the street heard the message and expressed a desire to go with him, but Plummer turned them down, continuing his wait for the sheriff. When McCormick again urged "that he'd better be in a hurry," he reported that Plummer, who was already irate at the delay, had replied that he would have gone before this time, but it took the "God damned sheriffs about three hours to start, that he had waited about two hours already." Wright had still more things to tend to and, as Plummer later told the coroner's jury, "We went over the bridge and waited for Wright several minutes; he did not come and we went up on the hill and came back again to the bridge; whilst sitting there on horseback we saw Wright coming out of the stable with somebody else; I said that I supposed Boss was waiting for somebody when Garvey said, 'There is too many of us and don't let's us go.'"[24] The two of them headed back towards town, but Wright, riding alone, overtook them and asked them to turn back towards Gold Flat.

It was dark by the time they reached the spot where Wallace Williams and his men were concealed. As Wright, Plummer, and Garvey were dismounting and tying their horses, the three deputies caught up to them. "That was the first I knew of Johnson and the others coming at all," Plummer said. When Wright suggested that one person go first, the marshall started in alone and, on reaching the horses and seeing no sign of the prisoners, whistled for Wright and Garvey to follow. As the two men approached, they heard another whistle and a voice coming from the ditch below them. "Jim Webster's voice," Garvey said.

"I guess it is," Plummer answered. Garvey advanced in the direction of the voice, and Plummer raised his gun to cover him, calling to the man hidden in the ditch, who was not Webster as they believed but rather a member of Wallace Williams's volunteers named Baldwin, that if he moved, he would kill him. Sheriff Wright's three deputies were supposed to have spread out and worked their way down into the ravine so as to surround the horses,

but they did not appear, and Plummer called out to them, "Dave, close down." As Dave Johnson approached the ravine, he stumbled onto another member of Williams's citizen party, Armstrong, and the two men fired at each other; at the same instant, Williams stepped out from behind a tree and commenced shooting at Wright and Plummer. "Wright and I turned about together," Plummer said, "I stepped back two or three feet towards the horses, Wright and I running side by side, the shots were coming fast and thick, I saw by the flash of a pistol a man jump behind a big stump near the middle of the ravine. Wright ran straight for him, this man put his pistol out in the direction of Wright and fired, Wright fell... I almost immediately recognized Wallace Williams by the flash of Garvey's pistol. I told him to stop, calling him by name."[25]

After Plummer called out, "Stop, for God's sake! You are shooting your friends," both sides ceased firing and, realizing their mistake, quickly began a search to determine who had been wounded. By the dim moonlight, they discovered Wright, fallen on his face across his own double-barreled shotgun and a pistol belonging to Dave Johnson. When they turned him over, he was still breathing and lay there working his mouth as someone was sent for help for him. The doctor who came washed the wounds by candlelight, but it was too late to save Wright, who had taken more than forty buckshot, which had perforated his neck, and a slug, which had broken his chin. Deputy Johnson was wounded in the chest but managed to make it to the nearest house, which turned out to be the home of Armstrong, the man who had shot him. Johnson asked Armstrong for some laudanum to relieve his pain, which was given to him, and then begged that the Masons be sent for. He survived only until the next afternoon.

Though Wallace Williams was a lawyer, his testimony at the inquest was filled with contradictions. He refused to admit that he had shot Wright, placing the blame on Baldwin and claiming he had only tried to strike the sheriff with the butt of his shotgun but missed. In addition, Williams took every opportunity to belittle the sheriff's posse for cowardice, accusing Teal of deserting the other deputies "quick after the firing" started, and adding, "I suppose Plumer took to his heels and ran after he fired." Though Baldwin had testified that Plummer came up right behind him when they first discovered Wright's body, Williams placed the marshall "in a north-east direction on the hill," only to reverse himself at another point by stating it was Plummer who had recognized him and put a stop to the shootout.

The grand jury reached the conclusion that Wright and Johnson's wounds "were given from guns or revolvers in the hands of Wallace Williams, T. L. Baldwin, and Geo. H. Armstrong, and were given accidentally and by mistake, in a collision that occurred,.. . both parties attempting to arrest prisoners escaped from the jail, and coming in contact in the night."[26] But the townspeople, shaken at the needless death of the sheriff and deputy, could not forgive Williams his lack of remorse. Whereas others in his party had admitted they had no authority to arrest the escaped prisoner, he had boldly closed his testimony with the contention that, "We had no legal writ to arrest the prisoners, but were acting as police to arrest them on our own hook, and as good citizens to sustain the law."[27] Williams never regained his stature in the community, and the Red Castle that the squire later constructed for his son on Prospect Hill was small comfort for the loss of a good reputation.

Plummer, feeling both the loss of Boss Wright, whom he genuinely admired, and a sense of guilt at being one of the survivors, wrote in a letter that he wished he could forget "all the events of the deplorable tragedy."[28] And in one special sense he was responsible for the entire disaster. Though he had tried to warn others of the danger that would come from involving several armed men in the search for Jim Webster, those who were so eager to participate were only hungry for a share of the glory he had received from his former exploits.

Before the incident, Plummer had been the hero of the county for bringing in Webster, but in the debacle of 3 November 1856, Jim Webster, who had come for the staked horses, stumbled onto the gunfight in progress and had escaped without leaving a trace. Even more humiliating, in the flurry of self-defense at the inquest, two derogatory remarks had been made about the marshall. McCormick, while being questioned as to why he had not informed the Williams party that he had contacted the officers, replied that he had not thought to go back to the ravine and tell the men waiting there, but he had told Plummer some men were guarding the horses. Plummer said he was certain that no one had told him. When McCormick was asked, however, if any of the men present in the street had heard him tell Plummer about the guards in the ravine, he admitted they had not. Still the damage had been done, leaving the impression that Plummer had been careless in leading the others into the ravine, though the results would have been the same since McCormick had no knowledge of the Williams party being concealed below the horses rather than on the bank above in plain view.

Adding insult to injury as far as the marshall's reputation was concerned, McCormick was also asked if he thought Plummer could have been drunk when he was given the message about men guarding the horses. McCormick responded "I cannot tell when Henry Plumer is drunk or not."[29] The answer could be construed as a backhanded compliment for being able to hold his liquor, but the fact that the question was asked at all created doubts about the new marshall's drinking habits.

Plummer apparently took no offense at the question of his drinking on duty, but he was angry at Williams for touching on the one spot where he was sensitive -- the issue of his courage. The Democratic party was also concerned over the slipping popularity of their main drawing card. In way of remedy, the Democrat offered to publish a letter to the public from Plummer, hoping to rescue him from the same "notoriety" Williams was suffering.[30] Plummer's letter, written in the melodramatic style frequently employed in the paper rather than in the common speech of his inquest testimony, states, "I cannot permit the sneering insinuation of Williams to pass unnoticed. In his evidence he says he supposes I ran after firing my shots. As he gives no reason for this opinion, and his assertion varies materially from that of the other witnesses before the Coroner, I am compelled to regard this part of his evidence as a gratuitous insult to myself, in which he has falsified his testimony to inflict upon me an injury." The letter goes on to point out some of the discrepancies between Williams's testimony and that of others, closing with the rather poignant lines, "Unlike Mr. Williams my reputation for courage is dependent neither upon my own testimony, (although under oath) nor upon the trumpetings of the press. I shall leave this subject, hoping that Mr. Williams may enjoy that reputation for which he longs, and I, such as I may deserve. H. PLUMER, Marshal."[31] Plummer's career depended on his success in proving to the community once more the sort of reputation he did deserve.

REBUILDING

The Journal printed Wallace Williams's response to the letter. His antagonism toward Plummer, as reflected in his inquest testimony, had evidently come more from the fact they were complete opposites -- Williams owing all he had to his father and Plummer being self-made -- than from the happenings at Gold Ravine, and he regretted his slurs. Writing that he himself had not made the assertion about Plummer's cowardice, he explained he had only re- sponded to a direct question and not intended any offense. To his way of thinking, he added, when a man was being fired upon from all sides, as Plummer was, running away would not have been cowardice anyhow, but wisdom.

After conducting the inquest into Wright's death, the coroner, John Grimes, believing he was next in line to fill the vacant position of sheriff, requested the marshall and three others to accompany him to the county offices, where he took possession of the property therein so as "to secure the interests of the county as well as litigants having monies in the hands of the Sheriff."[32] As it turned out, the board of supervisors selected not the coroner but Deputy Butterfield to succeed Wright, making it necessary for the coroner to surrender the appropriated property to the new appointee. Criticizing the coroner's premature action in assuming control of the office, the Journal characterized "the Coroner's posse," as they labeled it, as men who "doubtless consider themselves more honest and responsible... than other men" and therefore feel "self-responsible to guard the interests of individuals and the public. This is an assumption of superior virtue which, it is to be hoped, their future conduct will warrant."[33]

This criticism of Plummer, as one of the group, for assuming he was of "superior virtue" and therefore "self-responsible to guard the interests of individuals and the public" was most likely an accurate description of the marshall's character, and perhaps a prerequisite for any man who presumes to represent the law. But there was an ominous note of warning behind the newspaper's appraisal that Plummer would have done well to consider. Of course, being young, confident, and idealistic, he did not. Walking through the tight, winding little streets of Nevada City and feeling the pride of responsibility for their safety could produce a false sense of security, creating the illusion that the marshall and the law were synonymous.

A few months after the deaths of Wright and Johnson, the town narrowly averted yet another tragedy, this one brought on by a combination of the poorly laid plans of men and the assistance of nature. Heavy rains caused a wooden dam constructed on Deer Creek to burst, flooding the surrounding area to a depth of twenty feet and sweeping away bridges, sawmills, and any other buildings in its path. Stores located at the foot of Main and Broad streets had to be evacuated, occupants barely escaping with their lives. The usual rebuilding of the city commenced immediately after.

Plummer, who was also rebuilding his reputation, was constantly being written up in the local news items for his escapades in bringing in wanted men. In November of the prior year he had apprehended a robber named Sanford, and he started out the new year, in response to a description dispatched from Sacramento by telegraph, by arresting Fisher, wanted for larceny and garroting. In February he spent two fruitless days as part of a posse attempting to trace the robber Gehr, only to find on his return that Rattlesnake Dick, well-known leader of a robber gang, had escaped from the Nevada jail during his absence. He quickly rode in pursuit of Dick, gradually expanding the circle of his search until he received a cryptic suggestion from one of Dick's fellow escapees, whom he had already captured, that the further from Nevada he looked the less apt he would be to find Dick. Suspecting that he must still be hiding in Nevada, the marshall concentrated his search on the area surrounding the jail. Later, confederates revealed the miscreant had, shortly after his breakout, died from slipping into an abandoned mine shaft near the corner of Pine and Commercial streets.

On the same day of learning Rattlesnake Dick's fate, Plummer interrupted a local theater performance to arrest Sullivan, sitting among the audience, on charges of having robbed some Chinese at Bear River of $500, and escorted him up the street to jail. In March he rode to Sacramento, successfully bringing back Nevils, suspected of having brutally attacked an old man in the mining camp of Alpha. April brought up the case of Myers, wanted for trying to burn down the entire town of Nevada in way of revenge for his acquired gambling losses as well as a strong grudge he held against his wife. As reported by the Journal, "Marshall Plummer and O'Brien arrived at Folsom... and arrested Myers in bed at the Mansion House," the opposition paper conceding "considerable ingenuity on the part of those who effected" the arrest.[34]

Plummer took the less exciting duties of his office, such as enforcing the fire ordinance, just as seriously as the manhunts, surprising merchants with an unannounced check for the required ladder, buckets, and barrel of water in their houses of business. Not expecting the marshall's men to cover the outskirts of town, the Journal editor was caught completely unprepared, but was fair enough about the matter to praise the marshall's efficiency in protecting the town from future fires. However, when informed of the fine levied for his violation, the editor printed a little piece grumbling about the difficulties of complying with the ordinance and the unfairness of the penalty for its violation. There was more grumbling to be heard in town when Plummer's men commenced the yearly tax collection, turning the amount of $4,936 into the city treasury in March with a balance of $3,000 to collect from the not so willing.[35]

Despite grudges built up against him and occasional protests from the opposition political party, Plummer was generally a popular marshall. Some of his acquaintances provided an anonymous journalist with the following assessment of his first year in office: "Business integrity had gained him many friends," and "it may be justly said of him, that as a public officer, he was not only prompt and energetic" but "when opposed in the performance of his official duties, he became as bold and determined as a lion." He was "also kind to such as the duties of office compelled him to oppress."[36] The image of the dashing young marshall built up by the press, a single issue sometimes carrying as many as three items on him, was not wasted on the girl he loved, who consented to marry him, or on the Democrats, who nominated him for a second term, even though, due to the number of enemies made during the discharge of duty, it was nearly impossible for a marshall to be reelected in Nevada. "Mr. Plummer has served one year as marshal," the Democrat wrote, "and has made an efficient and reliable officer. The immense majority which he received in the primary election for renomination is a flattering tribute of which he may well be proud, and shows plainly his great popularity with the masses of the Party."[37] The usual campaign posters went up and the hoopla was begun about Plummer and his opponent, S. Venard, whom he was expected to defeat handily. "The election on Monday passed off quietly," the press reported, "no rows nor evidences of ill feeling disgracing the day." As predicted, Plummer defeated Venard, receiving 417 votes to the challenger's 305. On the evening of election day, as though it might be an omen of good times ahead for the city, a "beautiful phenomenon" occurred. A glowing meteor appeared in the night sky, circling the town in an arced path just above the level of the surrounding hills.[38]

The same month as the reelection, in nearby Washington Territory, Mount Saint Helens put on quite a flashy show by suddenly spewing out steam, molten lava, and hot cinder ash on the surrounding countryside, and Lola Montez created an almost equal stir among her disappointed audience by stomping off a theater stage and refusing to perform because she disliked the color of the stage carpet. Also, the usual spring cases of typhoid fever broke out in town, and Plummer made more news by travelling to outlying ranches to capture and bring in two cattle thieves, one of whom made a spirited attempt to resist arrest.[39] July was spent by all good Democrats in feverish preparation for the county convention, Plummer again being nominated as a delegate but again falling short of the required number of votes. Despite his defeat as a delegate, his political star had risen, and at the convention in August, he was overwhelmingly chosen as the candidate for the state legislature. The opposition news, though admitting that the nominees were "fair men," predicted trouble ahead for the party: "The Plumer wing of the party being vastly in the ascendancy had it all their own way. Outside of the delegates the soreheads were numerous and complaining.... This course is little calculated to produce harmony."[40] Refusing to acknowledge the warning about the split in the party, Democratic party regulars remained buoyed up with the enthusiasm for a coming victory generated at the convention. In their view, the temporarily disgruntled losers would soon relent, allowing the party to maintain their majority in the county, and in addition Plummer's opponent was considered a rather weak candidate. Jubilant over the prospects of sending one of the youngest men in history to a state assembly, the loyal workers eagerly commenced the campaign. Plummer, only twenty-five years old, seemed to be well on his way to a political career that might know no bounds.