ANTI-ITALIAN MOOD LED TO 1891 LYNCHINGS Times Picayune Newspaper March 14, 1991 Page B1 Submitted by Larie Tedesco ************************************************* Copyright. All rights reserved. http://www.usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://www.usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ************************************************ ANTI-ITALIAN MOOD LED TO 1891 LYNCHINGS Late on the night of Oct. 15, 1890, as New Orleans Police Chief David C. Hennessy walked to his Girod Street home, he was ambushed by a group of men who had been hiding in a shanty across the street. He died the following morning, conscious until the end, and explicit about who had done him in: "Dagoes." The killing, and the sinister events that followed, capped a period of profound anti-Italian sentiment in the city, which had been building during three decades of heavy Italian immigration. It culminated on March 14, 1891, when the largest mass lynching in American history took place in New Orleans. The saga began when Joseph A. Shakspeare, then mayor, appointed Hennessy as police chief. Hennessy had gained a national reputation for the capture of a Sicilian bandit named Esposito, who was credited by some with bringing the Mafia to the United States. The Mafia was believed to be responsible for nearly 100 unsolved murders in New Orleans since the Civil War, and Hennessy was determined to eradicate it. He was greeted by a code of silence in the Italian community. While Hennessy's elaborate funeral proceeded, a dragnet led to the arrest of dozens of Italians. Meanwhile, the business and political community responded to the assassination with outrage and created a well-financed "Committee of Fifty" to help indict and convict the alleged assassins. This extra-legal group included public officials, lawyers, newspapermen, bankers, and businessmen, and was led first by Edgar H. Farrar and then by Walter C. Flower. Eventually, 19 Italians were indicted on charges of Hennessy's murder and nine of them were tried in February 1891. They retained some high-priced legal talent, including the colorful private detective Dominick C. O'Malley, one of Hennessy's enemies. The alleged masterminds of the conspiracy were Charles Matranga and Joseph P. Macheca, the latter a prominent merchant and political leader who was once a friend of Hennessy's. Pietro Monasterio lived in the shanty from which the attack was launched. The suspected gunmen were Antonio Scaffidi, Antonio Bagnetto, Emmanuele Polizzi, Bastian Incardona, and Antonio Marchesi. Also on trial was Marchesi's teen-age son Gaspare Marchesi, who allegedly had used a whistle to warn the assassins of Hennessy's approach. During the trial, Polizzi raved maniacally and made a confession, which was not admitted into the record. Indeed, several key witnesses were never called to testify. Despite such lapses, most New Orleanians strongly believed in the merits of the case. So the city was stunned on the afternoon of March 13, when six of the defendants were found innocent and a mistrial was declared in the cases of three others. Talk of jury tampering, intimidation, and bribery was rampant. Because there were still some outstanding indictments, all the defendants were returned to prison. That evening, a large group of men dissatisfied with the verdict met. Among its leaders were Farrar, William S. Parkerson, Walter D. Denegre, John C. Wickliffe, James D. Houston, and Charles J. Ranlett. The 61-man Vigilance Committee placed an ad in the next morning's newspapers calling for a meeting and warning participants to "come prepared for action." Thousands of people responded and met at the statue of Henry Clay on Canal Street to hear Parkerson: "When the law is powerless," he said, "rights delegated by the people are relegated back to the people, and they are justified in doing that which the courts have failed to do." The speakers left little doubt that bloody work was to be done that day. Reportedly, the plan was to take six of the men from the prison and execute them in view of the citizens of New Orleans. The other three were to be spared. Sensing danger, the Italian consul in the city, Pasquale Corte, sought help from Gov. Francis T. Nicholls, who said he could do nothing without a request from Mayor Shakspeare, who was holed up in the Pickwick Club. The crowd marched to Parish Prison, near the site of the present-day Municipal Auditorium. Refused admittance at the front gate, the leaders gained access through a back door. Several dozen others barged in and added to the confusion. Unable to protect the Italians from the mob, the jailers let them loose within the walls to fend for themselves, but nine of them - including five who had not been brought to trial - were chased down and shot. Two others were dragged outside and forced through a kicking gauntlet to a tree. One was hanged from a rotten branch, and when it snapped, he was hanged in short order from a sturdier one. The other suffered worse agonies. He was hanged from a lamppost by a rope that broke and brought him tumbling to the ground. He was hoisted again, but since his arms had not been tied, he grabbed the line and pulled himself up to the crossbar. A blow to the face sent him dangling once more, but he again grabbed the line. Lowered into the crowd, his hands were bound and he was hauled up a final time. A half-dozen bullets put an end to his writhing. When it was all over, 11 men who had not been found guilty of any crime were dead. Those responsible for the deaths proclaimed their action was a success and justice had been done. The city's business community and the daily newspapers supported the lynchings. A survey showed that 42 of the nation's newspapers approved of the action, while 58 disapproved. A grand jury indicated that if there was guilt, it was shared by the entire mob, estimated at between 6,000 and 8,000 people. The Italian government protested, and there was even talk of war. Though the United States accepted no responsibility, it did pay an indemnity to the survivors of those victims who held Italian citizenship. The lynchings didn't eradicate organized crime from the city, nor did they put an end to other theories of "Who Killa da Chief?" - as the next generation or two of Italian-Americans were taunted. Neither did it slow Sicilian immigration into New Orleans. In time they, like other immigrant groups, were assimilated into the mainstream of American life with members of their large community rising to prominence in all areas of endeavor.