pervaded the city. Rumors of impending action were already
abroad. The jail itself hummed like a hive. Men came and went, busily
running errands, and darting about through the open door. Armed men were
taking their places on the flat roof. Meantime the populace gathered
slowly. At first there were only a score or so idling around the square;
but little by little they increased in numbers. Black forms began to
appear on the rooftops all about; white faces showed at the windows;
soon the center of the square had filled; the converging streets became
black with closely packed people. The windows and doors and balconies,
the copings and railings, the slopes of the hills round about were all
occupied. In less than an hour twenty thousand people had gathered. They
took their positions quietly and waited patiently. It was evident that
they had assembled in the role of spectators only, and that action had
been left to more competent and better organized men. There was no
shouting, no demonstration, and so little talking that it amounted only
to a low murmur. Already the doors of the jail had been closed. The
armed forces on the roof had been increased.

After a time the congested crowd down one of the side-streets was
agitated by the approach of a body of armed men. At the same instant a
similar group began to appear at the end of another and converging
street. The columns came steadily forward, as the people gave way. The
men wore no uniforms, and the glittering steel of their bayonets
furnished the only military touch. The two columns reached the
convergence of the street at the same time and as they entered the
square before the jail a third and a fourth column debouched from other
directions, while still others deployed into view on the hills behind.
They all took their places in rank around the square.

Among the well-known characters of the times was a certain Colonel Gift.
Mr. Hubert H. Bancroft, the chronicler of these events, describes him as
"a tall, lank, empty-boweled, tobacco-spurting Southerner, with eyes
like burning black balls, who could talk a company of listeners into an
insane asylum quicker than any man in California, and whose blasphemy
could not be equaled, either in quantity or quality, by the most profane
of any age or nation." He remarked to a friend nearby, as he watched the
spectacle below: "When you see these damned psalm-singing Yankees turn
out of their churches, shoulder their guns, and march awa