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TERRITORIAL ENTERPRISE

Tuesday July 22, 1890

UNPARALLELED KILLING.

Patrick Crowley Brains a Fellow Miner in the Depths.

An Inexplicable Affair -- Terror-Stricken Witnesses -- A Non-Plussed Engineer -- A Ghastly Sight -- A Down Deep Demon -- Always Bore a Good Reputation -- Etc.

Twenty-five years ago, as well as memory serves this reporter, John Glavey and Owen McCabe were working on the same shift in the Yellow Jacket mine. McCabe was a wiry, industrious, indefatigable little worker, and Glavey was a pussy, inert fellow. McCabe always wanted to make a big showing of work on his shift, and Glavey was indifferent. To prick Glavey to some point of exertion McCabe constantly taunted Glavey with the charge of laziness. Smarting under a renewed and particularly lively reminder to get a move on him, Glavey turned like a flash of lightning upon his partner and drove a pick clean through his body. In course of time he was acquitted of wrong-doing.

From the killing of McCabe down to the act that horrified this community Sunday night a quarter of a century has passed. Men of all nations, differing in religious beliefs, in political opinions, set against each other by manners, customs, religious and political observances, frequently entangled in national brawls, and even occupying positions of antagonism, have worked side by side, day by day, night by night, year in and year out, way down in the depths, and but one feeling has ever possessed their minds: protection, mutual care and solicitude for one another's safety.

Pistols and knives have been laid aside "on top," each feeling the utmost confidence in the manhood and integrity of the other while in the depths -- weapons to be resumed upon returning to the surface. Innumerable encounters have been formulated underneath in the heat of discussion; but always settled "on top," and each man watching zealously for the safety of the other for a good scrap at the wind-up.

This feeling, this masonry, has been so well understood that when miners "fall out," and matters looked serious, it has been a common remark to say: "Oh, wait till they get on the same shift, and they'll make it all up."

AN UNDERGROUND TRAGEDY.

At 11 o'clock Sunday night Patrick Crowley, James Hoban and James W. Shaughnessy were lowered to the 600 level of the Savage mine. William Nicholls, shift boss, told the engineer, Sumner Golding, to keep them at the 600 level until he took the south cage and joined them. He went down to the 600, joined the men and was lowered with them to within five feet of a floor on the 1200 level that extended across the shaft to catch whatever earth and rock would be excavated by the men engaged at work in repairing the shaft. While descending from the 600 level to the 1200 level Nicholls reprimanded all the men on the shift alike about not enough work being done. The cage stopped and Crowley got off first and entered the station. Nicholls followed him and spoke to him. Shaughnessy and Hoban, who were waiting for their orders, were looking at the platform beneath the cage, which had been cleaned by the previous shift. Immediately following the words of Nicholls, which were not understood by them, they heard a crushing blow, and upon looking around, just a few feet back of them in the station, they saw Nicholls stretched on the floor of the station. Shaughnessy jumped for Crowley and caught him, saying "What have you done?" Crowley pushed him back, and assuming a threatening attitude, said, "You son of a b--; what is the matter with you?" Hoban then got on the cage, closely followed by Shaughnessy, who immediately rang three bells -- meaning the surface. But Crowley followed them on the cage, and when it had ascended about 30 feet he grabbed Shaughnessy, and pushing him against a wall plate of the shaft, he managed to ring a stop. Crowley wanting to throw Nicholl's body down the shaft, dead or alive, and then claim it was accidental.

SOME STRATEGY.

Hoban said he felt very faint, and wanted to go to the 600 level first -- where he knew there were some men working -- to get some water. Crowley said he didn't want any water, but after more or less coaxing he agreed to let the cage be rung to the 1100 level.

A SILENT CONSULTATION.

On the 1100 level they got off the cage and remained there nearly half an hour. Shaughnessy and Hoban are as silent as the tomb or Wm. Nicholls, about any conversation that may have occurred during that time. Both men were frightened out of mind, and to believe them, both men simply knocked their knees together while Crowley stared at them.

AN EXCITING PERIOD.

Crowley finally asked Shaughnessy and Hoban to return with him to the 1200 level, and Hoban said he wouldn't go back for the world. Crowley then got on the cage and rung himself down to the 1200 level, where Nicholls lay. As the cage descended with Crowley, Hoban and Shaughnessy started up the ladders. Both men were weak, very much excited, and the ladders in poor condition for climbing. They climbed about 150 feet and came across a platform in the air-shaft, up which they were climbing, and could go no further. In desperation, Hoban reached to the southwest corner of the cage shaft, and got the bell-rope in his hands and gave three pulls, signifying to hoist to the surface, and as the cage neared their position he pulled the rope for a stop. Meanwhile, he had tied the rope around a bolt, so that Crowley couldn't ring a stop. The men then got on the cage and rung themselves to the surface.

THEY HAD SOME LUCK.

As soon as they commenced to raise Hoban cut the bell rope with an ax that was on the cage, and which was probably the instrument with which Nicholls was killed.

The peculiar orders of the bell puzzled the engineer. Mr. Golding, and it was suspected there was something wrong in the shaft. Billy Burns, the top carman, held the bell rope in his hand constantly, and by word of mouth transmitted the signals to the engineer. The men in the shaft did not pull the rope hard enough to ring the bell, and but for Mr. Burns their orders would never have reached the surface, and this story might be descriptive of three accidental deaths.

AT LAST ON TOP.

As soon as Shaughnessy and Hoban reached the surface they breathlessly told of the killing, and Superintendent Keating was immediately apprised of the fact. The police were soon notified, also, and a party was made up of James Weir, Luke Quinlan, Thomas Pearce and James Grant to go down the shaft and arrest Crowley. The descent was necessarily slow, on account of the bell rope having been cut and tied around a bolt, and the party didn't care to get beyond communication with the surface.

THE ARREST.

Arriving at the 1200 station officer Weir asked Crowley if he would get on the cage, and he said "Yes," and got on with his back to the officer. He was raised to the surface, changed his clothes, was handcuffed, taken to the jail and locked up without the least resistance.

DROPPED DOWN THE SHAFT.

The party then returned to the 1200 level without the officer in search of the body. They found a plank had been removed from the platform in the shaft, and suspecting the body had been thrown down the shaft, ropemen were sent for, and a rope hoist was soon rigged up and men were lowered slowly to the bottom of the shaft -- 100 feet lower -- where they found the body. By means of a couple of hoists to the 1200 level, and then one to the surface the party returned.

FRIGHTFUL WOUNDS.

The body was taken to Brown's undertaking rooms, where it was viewed by hundreds yesterday. The wounds are simply indescribable. If Shaughnessy and Hoban heard but one blow, and saw none delivered, Crowley must have used his ax again after returning to the 1200 level, because there are three well-defined ax cuts on Nicholl's head -- cuts that could not have been made by falling down the shaft. The left side of the head was all crushed in, and there was nothing left from which to recognize a human face on that side, excepting the fact that it lay at the end of a human trunk.

WILLIAM H. NICHOLLS

Was born and raised at Chacewater, Cornwall, England, where he married a sister of William Pearce, foreman of the Hale & Norcross. Five children have been the fruit of their marriage, and Mrs. Nicholls is now reported enciente, and very ill. He has resided on the Comstock about 11 years. He was a man who seldom drank liquor, and was of very industrious habits. He has a brother (Edward Nicholls) working in the Savage on the same shift, but in a different part of the mine. He has a mother in the old country and two sisters and three more brothers in this country.

Deceased was a member of Comstock Council No. 1. Order of Chosen Friends, from whom his family will receive $3,000: Triumph Lodge No. 7, K. of P.; Virginia Lodge No. 3, I. O. O. F.; Virginia Miners' Union, and Cara's cornet band.

PATRICK CROWLEY

Came to Virginia City about three years ago from San Francisco, where he has brothers and sisters and other relatives living. He has been working steadily since he has been here. He is a man about 6 feet 3 inches tall, weighs about 220 pounds and is aged 29. He has been a member of the Emmet Guard for two years. Those who say not a word of the killing say that he is a very quiet, unobtrusive man, who will stand a josh as well as any one.

An ENTERPRISE reporter called at the jail yesterday and asked Crowley if he had any statement to make of the killing. He simply said "No; I have nothing to say."

Taken to Carson.

Owing to rumors of preparations for a lynching, the Sheriff had some extra officers on duty during the evening, and deemed it prudent to remove Crowley to Carson out of reach of violence as soon as B street was sufficiently deserted to permit conducting him to a stable without attracting attention. At 10 o'clock special officer Sabin led Crowley handcuffed to Peterson's stable which had been closed for some time. There a team stood ready, and as soon as the prisoner entered the carriage, in which Chief Tally and Sheriff McCullough sat, the doors were thrown open and the horses were started towards Carson at a rapid gait. The secret had been so well kept that none but those engaged in the removal knew anything about it.

AN ALARM.

At exactly 10 o'clock the horses dashed out of the stable, and five minutes afterward the Corperation bell rang an alarm. As no one at this time knew of the removal an immediate rush from all directions was made to the jail, where it was supposed that an attempt was to be made to take out the prisoner. As the crowd gathered a carriage dashed through to the Emmett Guard armory, where some arms were given to the occupants, who at once turned and were driven towards Carson. No one seems to know why the bell was sounded, as the prisoner was off quietly and safely, but the belief is that it was to direct attention to the Court-house and delay possible pursuit. The alarm may have been a wise precaution, but though there was plenty of talk about the bloody consequences should an attempt be made to lynch Crowley, no one indicated any design or wish to join in attack upon the authorities. There was, however, a very pronounced feeling against him, and the sudden congregation of excited men, many ready to take offense on either side of the question of summary punishment, might have brought on the trouble that the removal to Carson was intended to prevent. As to the propriety of the precaution taken by the Sheriff there was but one opinion, but the wisdom of the alarm is not apparent.