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| Vigilantes break into prison in New Orleans. |
SHAKESPEARE
THREATENED.
The New
Orleans Mayor Hears From the Mafia—An English Opinion.
NEW ORLEANS, March 18.—Mayor Shakespeare
yesterday received a letter purporting to come from a committee of 3,000 Italians,
notifying him that Parkerson, Wickliffe and himself must die at the hands of
the aforesaid committee. The letter states that the chief assassins are not caught
yet. The Chief of Police thinks all such letters are hoaxes.
LONDON, March 18.—The Times, in an editorial
on the New Orleans tragedy says:
It is all very well to reprobate a resort to
violence, but in such circumstances as these what way is there for emancipating
the community from an intolerable tyranny excepting to resort to violence? The
law requires trial by jury, and trial by jury has been reduced to a farce by
the knowledge possessed by every juryman that if he convicts a member of the
Mafia his life is not worth a week's purchase. It is really a misuse of language
to speak of a resort to violence. The standing rule in New Orleans is the rule
of violence and all that Mr. Parkerson and his followers have done is to accept
the conditions prescribed by the Mafia. All law rests ultimately upon force,
and when courts are dominated over by the criminals whom they exist to punish, nothing
remains but to go back to first principles to effect their deliverance. Let
lawless violence he abandoned, but qui messterues les assassins commencent.
Among the men who were lynched there may have been some who did not
actually fire at Hennessey. But, it is not pretended that there were any who
were not members of a detestable society that decreed his death. That being the
case it is impossible to feel any very acute distress, because in the midst of
the violence they had rendered indispensable, they have been somewhat more
severely punished than if they had been legally dealt with.
AN AWFUL VENGEANCE.
CITIZENS
AVENGE THE MURDER OF CHIEF OF POLICE HENNESSY.
The Mafia
Taught a Lesson—All Elements of New Orleans's Population
Unite,
and in a Throng Lynch The Sicilian Assassins.
NEW ORLEANS, March 14.—New Orleans struck the
Mafia a death blow to-day. It rose in its might almost at midday, and wreaked a
terrible vengeance upon the Sicilian assassins who relentlessly slew David C. Hennessy; and though there are eleven men dead to-night, who were happy yesterday
over their victory in the greatest criminal trial the city has ever witnessed,
the work of blood was accomplished without unnecessary disorder, without
rioting, without pillaging and without infliction of suffering upon any innocent
man, save one and he was only slightly hurt.
It was not an unruly midnight mob. It was
simply a solemn determined body of citizens who took into their own hands what
justice had ignominiously failed to do. The chief
of police was slain on October 15 last, and that very night the evidence began
to accumulate, showing that his death had been deliberately planned by a secret
tribunal and carried out boldly and successfully by the tools of the
conspirators.
The trial of the assassins lasted 25 days,
and though the evidence seemed conclusive, the jury, currently charged with having
been tampered with, failed to convict. Last night a body of cool-headed men, lawyers,
doctors, merchants and political leaders all persons of influence and social
standing, quietly met and decided that some action must be taken and the
people's justice, swift and sure, visited upon those whom the jury had
neglected to punish. This morning a call for a mass meeting at Clay square and
Canal street appeared in the papers, which editorially deprecated violence. The
significant closing sentence of the call was: "Come
prepared for action!"
Down in a large room on Bienville and Royal
streets there was an arsenal which had been provided by the citizens. The call
was answered by the populace. At 10 o'clock there was a crowd of several thousand
anxious citizens congregated on the Square. They hardly knew what was going to
happen; but they seemed ready to along with many of the lower element in the
throng. A large proportion were the leading people of the town. There were a
few addresses, short, pithy and business-like, and the assemblage, not
unwillingly, was soon keyed up to a high pitch and became demonstrative in its
denunciation of the assassins. Each speaker said there had been a great mass
meeting months before, which had met quietly and dispersed peacefully, so that
the law might take its course. The law had failed. The time to act had to come.
W. S. Parkerson, the leader of the throng, is a prominent lawyer here, the
president of the Southern Athletic club, and the man who led a vigorous
city reform movement three years ago. The other speakers were Walter D. Denager,
one of the leaders of the New Orleans bar, John C. Wickliffe, also a prominent
attorney, and James D. Houston, one of the foremost men of the State.
By this time the crowd had swelled to 3,000
or more, and before anyone could realize what had happened, the great thong,
gaining recruits at every step, was trampling down the streets to the neighborhood
of the prison, stopping only once, and that was at the arsenal where double-barreled
shot guns, Winchester rifles and pistols were handed out to responsible and
respectable citizens in the party.
Capt. L. M. Davis was on guard at the main
entrance with a scant force of deputies. They were swept away like chaff before
the wind, and in an instant the little ante-room leading into the prison was jammed
with eager, excited men. Meanwhile the prisoners were stricken with terror for
they could hear the shouts of the people without madly demanding their blood. Innocent
and guilty alike were frightened out of their senses, and the prisoners who
were charged with crimes other than complicity in the murder of the chief also shared
in the general demoralization. Some of the braver among the representatives of
the Mafia wanted to die fighting for their lives, and they pleaded for weapons with
which to defend themselves; and when they could not find these they sought
hiding places.
The deputies, thinking to deceive the crowd
by a ruse, transferred the 19 men to the female department, and there the
miserable Sicilians trembled in terror, until the moment when the doors yielded
to the angry throng on the outside. Capt. Davis refused the demand to open the
prison, and the crowd began battering in the doors. Around on Orleans street
there was a heavy wooden door, which had been closely barred. This the crowd
selected as their best place for getting in. Neighboring houses supplied axes
and battering rams, and willing hands went to work to force an opening. This
did not prove a difficult task to the determined throng. Soon there was a
crash, the door gave way, and in an instant armed citizens were pouring through
the small opening, while a mighty shout went up from ten thousand throats.
“Go to the female department!” someone
yelled; and thither the men with their Winchesters
ran. But the door was locked.
In a moment the key was produced. Then the
leader called for someone who knew the right men. A volunteer responded and a
door was thrown open. The gallery was deserted but an old woman said the men
were upstairs. Seven or eight men quickly ascended the stairs and as they
reached the landing the assassins fled down to the other end. Half a dozen
followed them. Scarcely a word was spoken. When the pursued and pursuers
reached the stone courtyard the former darted toward the Orleans side of the
gallery and crouched down beside the cells. Their faces blanched, and being
unarmed they were absolutely defenseless. In fear and trembling they screamed
for mercy, but the avengers were merciless.
Bang! bang! bang!
So the reports of the weapons rang out, and
a deadly rain of bullets poured into the crouching figures. Gerachi, the
nearest man, was struck in the back of the head and his body pitched forward
and lay immovable on the stone pavement. Romero fell on his knees, with his
face in his hands, and in that position was shot to death. Monastero and James
Caruso fell together, under the fire of half a dozen guns, the leaden pellets
entering their bodies and heads, and the blood gushing from the wounds. Beneath
the continuing fire Cometaz and Trahina, who had not been tried but who were
charged jointly with the other accused, fell together. Their bodies were
literally riddled with buckshot, and they were stone dead almost before the fusillade
was over.
When the group of assassins was discovered
on the gallery, Macheca, Scoffedi and old man Marchesi separated from the other
six and ran upstairs. The other half a dozen men followed them, and as the
terror-stricken assassins ran into cells they were slain.
Joe Macheca, who was charged with being the arch-conspirator,
was a short, fat man and was summarily dealt with. He had his back turned when
a shot struck him behind the ear, and his death was instantaneous. There was no
blood from the wound, and when the body was found the ear was swollen so as to
hide the wound. Scoffedi, one of the most villainous of the assassins, dropped
like a log when a bullet hit him in the eye. Old man Marchesi was the only man
not killed outright. He was struck on the top of the head while he stood beside
Macheca, and though he was mortally wounded he lingered all the evening.
Pallizi, the crazy man, was locked in a cell
up stairs. The doors were flung open and one of the avengers shot him through the
body. He was not killed outright, and in order to satisfy the people on the
outside, who were crazy to know what was going on within, he was dragged down
the stairs and through the doorway by which the crowd had entered. Half
carried, half dragged, he was taken to the corner. A rope was tied around his
neck and the people pulled him to the cross-bar of a lamp post. Not satisfied
that he was dead, a score of men poured a volley of shot into [him] and for
several hours the body was left dangling in the air.
Bagnetto was caught in the first rush up
stairs, and the first volley of bullets pierced his brain. He was pulled out by
a number of stalwart men through the main entrance to the prison, and his body
was suspended from the limb of a tree, although life was already gone.
As soon as the bloody work was done, Mr.
Parkerson addressed the crowd, and asked them to disperse. This they consented to
do with a ringing shout, but first they made a rush for Parkerson, and, lifting
him bodily, supported him on their shoulders while they marched up the street.
The avengers came back in a body to Clay square, and then dispersed.
O'Malley, the detective who would have shared
the fate of the assassins if he had been caught, has disappeared, and is not
expected to return; and members of the jury are in hiding. The atmosphere has been
considerably purged, and though there is a big crowd on Canal street, to-night
the trouble seems all over.
The Coroner and a jury viewed the bodies of
the victims this afternoon. The various exchanges this afternoon adopted resolutions
maintaining that the deplorable administration of criminal justice in this city
and the frightful extent to which bribery of juries has been carried rendered
it necessary for the citizens of New Orleans to vindicate outraged justice and
declaring the action of the citizens this morning to be proper and justifiable.
The Stock Exchange expelled J. M. Seligman, who was foreman of the jury at the
trial of the assassins.
Marchesi died this evening. The Coroner's jury
presented a simple finding. They did not say who shot the men.
 |
| M. F. Cleary in fireman's uniform. |
FIRST
ANNUAL BANQUET.
The
Friendly Sons of St. Patrick Have A Banquet—A Pleasant Event—A
Sumptuous
Repast.
Cortland people during the past decade have
become so accustomed to new departures in manufacturing circles that they are
never surprised at any innovation through the establishment of a new industry backed
by push and capital, but welcome each new comer with open arms. In keeping with
the enterprise of an active community, society must eventually experience a
revolution emerging into that state of social intercourse where the man, not
the attire, adds to the beauty and pleasantry of the occasion.
That public sentiment chaperoned by higher
education of the people is ready to accept the fruits of such transformation, where
creed, position or natural endowments debar none from participating, was
manifest at the initiatory effort of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick to
entertain their countrymen and citizens of this village at a banquet in the
spacious dining hall of the Cortland House, on the evening of March 16, 1891.
The name of the organization is suggestive
of its object—that of paying proper tribute to the memory of Ireland's patron
saint. From the fact that an entertainment was to be given by St. Mary's Church
on St. Patrick's night, the banquet was necessarily fixed for the preceding evening.
Care had been exercised in the arranging of the tables and decorations of the
banquet hall, with not only a view to accommodate the guests, but permit an
unobstructed line of vision to the seated officers and speakers. At the east and
west sides of the hall hung large flags of Ireland, while suspended from the
center of the ceiling at the north and south sides, were the standard colors of
the United States. What a picture to study—a silent appeal from the sons of
Erin in the eastern continent through the folds of the stars and stripes to
their kindred on the western continent, where freedom and equality pervade the
air.
Shortly after nine o'clock 97 gentlemen took
seats at the tables and Chairman M. F. Cleary, opened the exercises of the
evening with the following brief address:
FRIENDLY SONS OF ST. PATRICK AND GENTLEMEN:—I
am so animated by the spirit of thankfulness for the honor of being elected
your chairman and for the knowledge that our first effort has met with such a
glorious success, that I feel that the only mistake you have made was in the selection
of your chairman.
It might be asked why we are here to-night.
We are here to honor the memory of him whose name we bear, and to follow the
example set by the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick founded in Philadelphia 125
years ago. History furnishes many instances where the greatest and the noblest
efforts had its humble beginning. Our name and day we celebrate with the humble
captive boy who stands alone in history like the beacon light far out to sea,
as the only man who conquered a brave and warlike nation, pinned a whole people
to the hem of his garment and all without the shedding of one drop of blood;
his sword was not metallic; not the keen-edged, bloody sword of other men or
times; its component parts were peace, equality, brotherhood of man, liberty
and obedience to God. Our American struggle had its humble beginning, the
people begged and prayed to have their condition ameliorated, they even
resorted to boycotting the merchants of Boston who imported goods from England.
From this humble beginning Washington appeared like a pole star in a clear sky
to direct. I am proud to know that the friendly sons of St. Patrick, though
loving the land and traditions of their fathers, were not derelict in the
duties they owed America, a few friendly sons subscribed and sent a half million
dollars to feed and clothe Washington's army then wintering at Valley Forge,
where the snow was crimsoned with the blood of the shoeless feet of his brave little
band. No wonder Washington became a member of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick
and used these words: "I accept with singular pleasure the ensign of St. Patrick’s
society; distinguished for its firm adherence to the glorious cause of American
Independence in which we are embarked."
This was an endorsement by a man that no marble
is white enough to bear his name; and of a society whose achievements we should
ever strive to imitate. I am glad our gathering here to-night has a fair sprinkling
of the rich men commingling with the hardy sons of toil—it is the touching of
sleeves on a common level, at least once a year. It would be presumptuous in me
to occupy any more of your time in view of the fact that there are abler minds to
follow. I have the honor to introduce the toast-master of the evening, Mr.
Corcoran.
Mr. Corcoran arose and thanked the society
for the honor, assuring all that he would strive to fill the position, although
it was a momentous period—he never having participated on a similar occasion
before. It was apparent when the first toast was tendered that the selection was
proper. Mr. Corcoran's fund of repartee and introduction was unexhausted when
the last response was called, while his manner of sending off the speaker, was
pleasing to all and offensive to none.
Below
is a list of officers:
Chairman—M. F. Cleary.
Vice-chairmen—James P. Maher, John T.
Davern, John F. Dowd, Thomas F. Grady.
Secretary—Charles Corcoran.
Treasurer—Ed Mourin.
COMMITTEES.
Reception—J. F. Dowd, Hugh Duffey, William
Martin, Hon. L. J. Fitzgerald, Henry Corcoran, Hugh Corcoran, James Keenan, James
Dougherty, J. Courtney, Jr., Thomas S. Mourin, James P. Maher.
Program—John T. Davern, Thomas F. Grady,
Charles Corcoran.
Arrangements—J. P. Maher, Henry Corcoran, T.
F. Grady, Charles Hardy, D. T. Dolan.
PROGRAM AND TOAST LIST:
Toast-Master,
Wm. Corcoran.
Solo
(selected), James Walsh.
Toast—"The
Day We Celebrate."
Response
by James P. Maher.
Song—"Hail,
Glorious Apostle," F. S. St. P. Glee Club.
Toast—"St.
Patrick."
Response
by Rev. J. J. McLoghlin.
Solo—"Three
Leaves of Shamrock," F. Lannagan.
Toast—"United
States."
Response
by J. F. Keenan.
Song—"A
Shout for this Broad Land of Freedom," F. S. St. P. Glee Club.
Toast—"American
Generals."
Response
by Hugh Duffy.
An Irishman's
Toast Ed Lannagan.
Toast—"Our
Form of Government."
Song—"The
Harp that Once Through Tara's Hall," F. S. St. P. Glee Club.
Toast—"Irish
in America."
Response
by Hon. L. J. Fitzgerald
Song—[omitted
by newspaper—CC editor]
Toast—"Irish
Heroes."
Response
by M. F. Cleary.
Solo—"Exile's
Lament," Ed Lannagan.
Toast—"Our
Local Industries."
Response
by Hon. W. H. Clark.
Toast—"The
Ladies, (God bless them.)"
Response
by James Dougherty.
Song—"Health
to the Fairest," F. S. St. P. Glee Club.
Toast—"The
Press: the mighty lever that rules the World."
Response
by G. W. Fisher.
Song—Selected,
F. S. St. P. Glee Club.
Toast—"Irish
Leaders."
Response
by John Courtney, Jr.
National
Anthem—"God Save Ireland."
Toast—"Irish
Orators."
Response
by B. T. Wright.
Toast—"Cortland,
Our Present Home."
Response
by John C. Barry.
Song—"America,"
by the banqueters under lead of Mr. Charles Hardy.
On account of the inability of Messrs. Fitzgerald
and Dougherty to be present at the banquet, their respective responses were assigned
to Mr. Enos Mellon and Mr. John O'Connell. It would be difficult as well as unjust
to particularize among the participants, whose responses all bore evidence to
the courage and true citizenship of the sons of Erin located in America, and
the hope that at no distant future Ireland shall be free. The club music was
furnished by Messrs. F. and E. Lannagan, C. Hardy, T. Kennedy and J. Walsh,
with Prof. Bert Bently as accompanist. One feature not on the program was some
interesting remarks and a song in the Celtic tongue by Mr. John Carey.
It is due mine host, Lyman P. Rogers, of the
Cortland House, to mention that the menu de soupper of seven courses,
had been temptingly prepared and was laid with commendable
service. Without giving the bill in full three samples may suffice, to-wit: Hors
de Oeuveres, Jambou de Westphalia and Aspice de Houtres a la circassienne, to appease
those not present. A more orderly, refined gathering has seldom assembled in
banquet.
At a seasonable hour the guests departed
with kind words for "Erin go Braugh and the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick."
St.
Patrick's Day in Cortland.
Although there was no parade or other public
demonstration in this village during the day, aside from the usual church
service yet in the evening, as previously announced, an enjoyable musical
programme was rendered by members of St. Mary's church choir assisted by Miss
Terry, Miss Alger, Mr. H. C. Beebe and an orchestra. The Rev. John J. McLochlin
delivered an address on the patron saint which was listened to by an
appreciative audience. The music programme was as follows:
Hymn to St. Patrick, Choir.
Solo—"Sweet Little Shamrock," (Jackson)
Miss Maggie Lannigan.
Solo—"O, Salutairs," Mr. Edward
Lannigan.
Duet—"O, Morning Land," (E.
H. Phelps) Misses Terry and Alger.
The Harp, Choir.
Solo—"Jerusalem,"
(H. R. Shelley) Mr. Beebe.
Solo—"Ave Maria," (Rossini)
Miss Terry.
"Let
Erin Remember the days of old," Choir, Orchestra.
Mrs. C. L. Kinney presided at
the organ.
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