Chapter 4

Psycho Politician

David Terry—Stockton/San Francisco/Lathrop

California has always been known for its wacky politicians. From captains of industry, with their hands in the treasury, to washed-up actors, the Golden State never fails to amaze the rest of the world with its choices in government. Perhaps the greatest crank who ever held public office in California was the psychotic southerner David S. Terry.

Terry was born in Kentucky in 1823, and his family moved to Texas when he was ten years old. Texas at the time was the northernmost state of Mexico. Terry claimed to have played a man’s part in the Texas War of Independence, but he would only have been an adolescent at the time, and it is very unlikely that he saw any action, although he was no doubt affected by the conflict.

Terry did see action in the Mexican-American War, first as a Texas Ranger and later as a private in the First Regiment of Texas Mounted Volunteers. He was involved in the Battle of Monterrey, and later he enjoyed reminiscing about shooting Mexicans from rooftops.

After the war, Terry went back to Texas, studied law, and passed the bar exam. With the news of the discovery of gold in California, he packed up and moved to the Golden State, knowing that where there is money, there is a need for attorneys. Terry hung his shingle in the growing city of Stockton, the distribution center for the southern mines.

Courtroom proceedings in Gold Rush-era California were as wild as the drunken miners who came to the makeshift taverns in the hastily built towns in the canyons. It was not unusual for attorneys to pull guns and knives on opposing council in the middle of a hearing. Fistfights would break out among the spectators, who often placed bets on who would win the grievance. Terry, who was known for his fiery temper, often pulled his huge Bowie knife out of its sheath in the courtroom.

Along with his law degree and his belligerent personality, Terry also brought his pro-slavery beliefs to California. Terry had political ambitions, and California was on the fast track to statehood. The big debate was whether the new state of California would allow slavery.

Terry got himself elected to the California Supreme Court in 1855 and became the chief justice in 1857. Repulsive as he was, Terry was known to be a fair judge, more likely to side with the common man than with a huge corporation. Yet he was almost hanged by the San Francisco Committee of Vigilance during its takeover of San Francisco in 1856. Terry had been sent to San Francisco by Governor J. Neely Johnson to help settle the dispute between the law-abiding citizens of San Francisco and the thoroughly corrupt city officials and police force. While involved in a running street fight with members of the Committee of Vigilance, Terry pulled out his Bowie knife and stabbed a vigilante. The man did not die; however, Terry was arrested by the vigilantes and held prisoner at Fort Gunnybags for several days. He was lucky to leave San Francisco with his life.

Another Dueling Politician

Attorney and Mexican War officer James W. Denver was insulted by an editorial that he read in the Alta California newspaper. He challenged the editor, Edward Gilbert, to a duel. On August 2, 1852, they met three miles northwest of Sacramento, and Denver shot Gilbert dead. Politics being what they are, Denver went on to enjoy an incredibly successful career. Between November 1852 and November 1858, Denver served California as a congressman, senator, and secretary of state and then went on to be the governor of Kansas Territory. The city of Denver is named after him. The duel site is now part of Hagan Oaks Golf Course.

Terry was defeated in his reelection bid in 1859, and he blamed his friend, Senator David Broderick, for his failure. Broderick was in the anti-slavery Free Soil Party and lobbied hard to keep California from becoming a slave state.

A Southern racist hothead like Terry could not let anyone dishonor his good name, so he challenged Broderick to a duel, and Broderick reluctantly agreed. They met just outside the city limits of San Francisco on September 13, 1859. Broderick won the coin toss and had first choice of the dueling pistols. The one that he chose had a hair trigger. Broderick wasn’t in the best of health. He was a poor shot and had no hunger to be in a duel. Terry, on the other hand, had a blood-lust and had practiced with a brace of pistols for a week before the duel.

Broderick’s weapon went off prematurely, the bullet hitting the dirt not far from Broderick’s feet. Terry took careful aim and fired a bullet into the senator’s chest. Broderick died a few days later.

Terry had to leave San Francisco in a hurry, and he ran off to his San Joaquin County ranch until cooler heads prevailed. He was eventually acquitted of Senator Broderick’s murder, but his political career was ruined.

Being a diehard Southerner, Terry went back to Texas at the start of the Civil War to join the Confederate army. Terry’s Civil War experiences are impossible to verify, but it is known that Terry carried with him thousands of dollars for the Southern cause, given to him by Californians with Southern sympathies.

After the war, Terry came back to California, but his murderous reputation and his backing of the Confederacy during the Civil War made him a pariah in Sacramento. He lived in Stockton and continued his law career. He represented anyone, as long as the money was there. His children grew up and his wife died. As he got older, he mellowed out. Gone were the days of shooting off pistols in courtrooms and fistfights in foyers with opposing attorneys. Yet, Terry remained a man of fiery intensity.

In 1884, Terry signed onto one of the most scandalous trials in California up to that time. Sarah Althea Hill claimed that she was legally married to millionaire Senator William Sharon of Nevada. She wanted a divorce and half of his fortune. Hill was probably only interested in getting a quick payoff from the senator, but he called her bluff and let her take him to court.

The trial became all the more scandalous when it was announced that Terry had married Sarah Althea Hill. The trial went on for years and was filled not only with both legal and illegal maneuvering of court procedure, but with knife fights, assaults, contempt of court charges, jail stays, and plenty of media coverage. Sarah’s sharp tongue got her admonished by the judge almost daily. William Sharon died in 1885, but the trial continued all the way to federal court.

When the case was dismissed, Terry attempted to assault United States Supreme Court Judge Stephen Johnson Field with a Bowie knife. At the same time, a gun was found in Sarah’s satchel. Both Sarah and Terry were given jail sentences.

Judge Field, afraid that the psychotic attorney would ambush him, had a federal marshal, David Neagle, assigned to protect him. Field’s intuition proved to be correct when, on August 14, 1889, the two judges found themselves in the same railroad restaurant in the small San Joaquin County town of Lathrop.

Terry approached Judge Field from behind and punched him in the head and face before Marshal Neagle shot Terry dead with two quick shots.

Terry’s friends raised a ruckus about the legality of the shooting, but Neagle was found to be within his duty in killing Terry, whose history of violence was reason enough to believe that he would have killed the judge. Terry’s son, Clinton, challenged Sarah’s rights to his father’s estate and kept her in court for years. She ended up insane and penniless, dying on February 15, 1937, after spending forty-five years at the State Hospital for the Insane in Stockton.