The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Nine: The Trial and Lynching of Pancho Daniel

The final major event in the aftermath of the Barton Massacre of 1857 was the capture and trial of co-leader of the gang who committed the depredations: Pancho Daniel.

Daniel was said to have been wounded in the ambush that slaughtered Barton and three members of his posse searching for what was called the Flores-Daniel Gang.  The injury was, evidently, serious enough to put Daniel out of action and he quietly slipped out of the Los Angeles region and headed north.

It was not until just after the new year dawned in 1858 that Daniel was captured by Sheriff John E. Murphy of Santa Clara County.  As reported in the 23 January edition of El Clamor Público, Murphy had received word that Daniel was hiding nearby.  Going to the location that was identified, Murphy found "a Californio or Mexican that was there, but this person said he knew nothing of Daniel's whereabouts, and even that he knew him."

At that, Murphy called out for his companions and, when they walked up, "ordered the hanging of the Mexican, who, at the moment of suffocation, confesed that Pancho Daniel was hiding within a pile of straw very close to where they were."  The sheriff called out to Daniel to surrender "when he [Daniel] stuck his head out of the straw and seeing that there was no way to escape, he surrendered."

It was said that Daniel had three pistols with him when seized and then he was taken to the jail at San Jose and held there until Murphy could bring him down on the next steamer to Los Angeles, where the prisoner arrived on the 19th.  The article concluded that "he was accused of having committed many crimes, and, among these, of having taken part in the deal of Sheriff Barton."

Reporting on the capture of Francisco "Pancho" Daniel, El Clamor Público, 23 January 1858.  Thanks to Paul Bryan Gray for making copies of this paper available.  Click on any image to see enlarged views in a new window.

Daniel was indicted on 10 February before the county's Court of Sessions, headed by County Judge William G. Dryden, easily the most colorful judicial figure of the era, on the charge of murder in the deaths of Barton and his three posse members.  The district attorney representing the state was Ezra Drown, who had been an attorney since his arrival in Los Angeles in 1853, and Daniel's counsel was E.J.C. Kewen, a noted lawyer, orator and Southern firebrand.  Because this was a murder case, it was transferred to the District Court, presided over by Judge Benjamin Hayes, who was nearing the end of his six-year term, assigned number 498, and then continued to the March term.

Daniel was being held in the Los Angeles County jail when, on 15 February, his fellow bandit, Luciano Tapia (a.k.a., Leonardo Lopez) was executed after his conviction for his role in the killing of George Pflugardt.  

On 15 March, Daniel was arraigned and then pled not guilty in the murders of San Juan Capistrano merchant George Pflugardt, for which there was one indictment, and of Charles Baker and Charles Daly, two of Barton's posse members, which were reflected in the second indictment.  A trial date was set for the 22nd.  Kewen then stepped down from his representation of Daniel, for reasons unknown, and Kimball H. Dimmick, stepped in.  Dimmick, who came to California in the Mexican-American War, was alcalde (mayor) of San Jose, a judge and a signer of the California constitution of 1849, before migrating to Los Angeles, where he was a member of the Assembly, a district attorney, and attorney.

When the case came up for trial, Dimmick was "discharged by consent of defendant" and a new attorney, Columbus Sims, a resident and lawyer in town since 1852, took on the defense of Daniel.  A venire (call) for ninety-six jurors had been made, but Sims quickly moved for a change of venue, which Hayes denied.  As the hearing proceeded, twenty-eight jurors were excused and the rest ordered to return the following day.

But, as reported in El Clamor on 27 March, "the accused submitted a petition that the matter be continued until the next sesion of the court, so that there would be time to bring certain witnesses from Santa Clara County who would testify that he was not in Los Angeles County at the time of the crime of which he is accused."  Judge Hayes ruled that "the defendant had given sufficient evidence to grant the time requested, and consequently, continued the matter until the next session on the third week of July."

The next District Court term arrived and the Daniel case came up.  On 19 July, the case was called up, evidently late in the day, and was continued the following day.  Sims was out ill, and Cameron E. Thom, long-time district attorney, was appointed associate counsel and Hayes assigned the case to be heard on the 28th, with a new venire of ninety-six jurors also ordered.

The account of the lynching of Daniel, Los Angeles Star, 4 December 1858.

On the 28th, the case came up, twenty-four jurors were excused for cause and a new twist emerged, as reported in the Los Angeles Star, in its edition of 31 July.  A group of jurors had been called by the sheriff, as required by law, but Sims challenged the selection "on the ground of alleged bias on the part of the sheriff."  A panel of three triers, composed of former county judge Agustín Olvera, merchant Francis Mellus, and merchant John Schumacher, were appointed by Judge Hayes to hear evidence of bias on the part of Sheriff James Thompson, who had recently been voted in as sheriff after a special election, following the on-duty death (the second consecutive after Barton) of William Getman in January.  This was because Thompson was one of the captains of citizen cavalry members seeking the Flores-Daniel Gang after the massacre and was stationed at Simi Pass when Flores was captured and had publicly expounded on Daniel's guilt.

Upon an objection, though it is not known by whom, Olvera, Mellus and Schumacher were discharged "for cause shown" and another trio: ranchers Gerónimo Ybarra and Santiago Carrillo, and carriage maker Daniel McLaren [identified only as "McCleran" in the Star] were appointed by Hayes and accepted by the attorneys.

The triers heard the matter, with witnesses including Kewen, Thompson, jailer Francis Thompson, prominent doctor John S. Griffin  and two other men.  Even though the defense filed an exception to Hayes' charge to the triers, on unknown grounds, the trio were sent off to deliberate with the presence of county coroner J.C. Welsh and "agreed that vias existed—panel discharged."  Hayes then "ordered, that a venire [call] issue for ninety-six persons to serve as jurors, returnable by the Welsh on the 9th of August, at 10 o'clock."  The coroner had, in fact, already conducted court business on behalf of the sheriff, having conducted a "sheriff's sale" of the Rancho Palos Verdes by order from Hayes in March.

Yet, when the court reconvened on 9 August, Sims was ready with another maneuver.  After Welsh  returned a list of ninety-six jurors he summoned to the court, Sims challenged the coroner on what the Star described as "implied bias" of some unstated type.  Unknown triers heard this latest accusation with witnesses including Drown, Kewen, Welsh and a fourth man, upon which "the Court finds that said bias does exist," as reported by the Star.  This finding disqualified Welch from performing the role of selecting jurors, the group he summoned were discharged and the case continued to the 10th.  At that time, on a motion from Sims and an order by Hayes, the case, once more, was continued until the next term in November.

Meantime, Hayes ran for a second six-year term as county judge and his competitor was none other than Sims.  The election results, published on 4 September, showed Hayes trouncing Sims 1229-209, but whether the Daniel case and any public anger at Sims for his creative defense strategy were factors cannot be known.

On 15 November, reported the Star twelve days later, the case was called and Hayes set it for trial on the 22nd.  Drown motioned that Welsh be ordered to call another ninety-six jurors to appear the next day, but then, the paper noted, "coroner resigned, and Court appointed an Elisor," this being a term for someone who acted in lieu of the sheriff or coroner.  This was Manuel F. Coronel, whose father Ygnacio was a former common (city) council member and whose brother Antonio was an assesor, council member, and mayor of Los Angeles and later treasurer of California.  Manuel went on, from 1869-71, to represent Los Angeles in the state Assembly.

A portion of El Clamor Publico's coverage and editorial of the Daniel lynching, 4 December 1858.

Sims returned to his playbook and ran the same attack: accusing Coronel of bias.  Hayes then called Kewen, attorney and future council member and District Court Judge Murray Morrison, and prominent Californio Juan Padilla, to be triers.  This time, fifteen witnesses were called, and after a two full days, "the Elisor was declared, on Friday morning, free from bias."

Then, another tack was taken by Sis who filed a motion for a change of venue.  From two o'clock until the closing of court for the day, arguments were made, after which "te Court granted the motion, and the trial of Daniel is transferred to Santa Barbara county."  Notably, the Star, while praising Drown for his "energy, fidelity and perseverence" while he "ably sustained the cause of the prosecution" avoided crediting Sims for his handiwork, instead noting that Cameron Thom "projected a novel and skilful course, which has proved successful."  Years later, as district attorney, Thom was on the other side of the bar, prosecuting the cases of nine men accused of involvement in the Chinese Massacre of October 1871.

With the knowledge that the Daniel trial was being moved to Santa Barbara and fueled by the frustration felt after the many delays in the case, a group of citizens acted.  According to the 4 December edition of El Clamor, the jailer, Francis Carpenter, stated that, as he was leaving early in the morning to do his usual shopping for supplies, he was confronted by a mob and forced to yield his keys.  After he ran to find Judge Hayes, he returned to find Daniel hung from the crossbeam of the jailyard gate.

The paper said that a witness "declared that the death of this unfortunate was one of the most brutal examples that could be."  It was said the rope used was too thick and the gate not high enough to allow for a drop that would break Daniel's neck so that "he suffocated in the midst of the most horrifying despair."  The witness said that when he arrived the body was still twitching, but that he could not identify the ringleaders.

El Clamor went out of its way to say that it was not defending Daniel, calling him "one of the worse evildoers who has existed as a shame of humanity."  But, it went on, "if we have a duly constituted government and laws to obey and respect, why do we avail ourselves of violence and brutal force?"  Moreover, it went on to note that Daniel was a miserable and defenseless victim of those looking to "destroy public tranquility."

To the ringleaders, the paper stated, "Daniel was an assassin . . . and justice was too tardy with its rulings--so then, there is no sense of guilt to take him and hang him!"  Asking, "what is the result of these rationalizations?" El Clamor answered that it was "for them, in place of one type of crime, there was committed one larger."  Observing that "the death of Pancho Daniel does not merit the word 'lynching'," the paper claimed that, rather than represent the larger community, the killing of Daniel was the result of "a few men gathered for the sole purpose of perpetrating an unprecedented act of violence and cruelty."

Rising in its indignation, El Clamor went on:

Town of Los Angeles!  Bow your head in humiliation, and confess that in your time is here sacrificed prisoners without a word of defense!  There is no sensitivity, no emotion, on the homicidal breast, which hears the tearful appeal of an unfortunate who will expire on an ignominious gallows, asking for the consolations of religion, or wanting to see his wife or his young children!

Noting that Los Angeles was a place favored by nature and material progress, here was another instance in which "it is hoped that the reputation of the country is not tarnished by such a dark blot."  Moreover, the paper claimed, "We are among the first to say to the town: patience and hope!"  It asked "if a criminal of another nationalty falls into the hands of justice, will those who carried off Pancho Daniel give evidence that they are impartial with criminals?"

Observing that "almost all of the citizens of this county regarded Daniel as a criminal and this makes it less horrifying that revenge has been taken on him," the paper concluded by aserting that "we thought that they had seen the pernicious effects of lynchings."  Without equality of the law, the community becomes "governed by the will of a few individuals."  In such a circumstance, El Clamor exclaimed, "raise high the banner of anarchy and treason."

By contrast, as usual, the Star was far more sanguine in its reports, also on 4 December.  It professed that, on the day of Daniel's lynching, "the good people of our city were somewhat astonished on waking up from their peaceful slumbers, by the rumor that Pancho Daniel was then hanging by the neck from the cross beam of the gate of the county jail yard."

Stating that it was "probably a committee acting on behalf of a larger body of citizens" that perpetrated the hanging while Sheriff Thompson was out of town, the paper matter of factly reported the confrontation with Carpenter and his yielding of the keys and the fact that Daniel was led "to mount an office stool" which was knocked from underneath him.  For the Star, the shock was that, "as the morning cleared, it revealed the terrible spectacle of a human body hanging dead."

It claimed the citizens who had gathered to see "the body executed in so quiet and mysterious a manner" dispersed and that, only a half hour later, one would not have thought that "so fearful a tragedy had been enacted in our midst."  There was a vague allusion to "some feeling [that] was exhibited during the day, but nothing to indicate that the respectable portion of the Californians were dissatisfied with the result."

While tame in comparison to the expostulations of El Clamor, this editorial in the Star marked a turning point in the English-language press's views on popular justice, 4 December 1858.

However, an editorial in the same edition did mark a noted, if somewhat muted, change in attitude by the Star about lynching.  Writing that the event was something "which we cannot permit to pas without notice," the paper stated that "it was the execution without the sanction or form of law, of a fellow being; one who—even admitting his guilt—was entitled, by the constitution, to the benefit of a fair and impartial trial.

While the paper maligned that "technicalities of law" which "may have been taken advantage of, to defeat the ends of justice," it was asserted that the evidence was such that "we have no doubt that justice would have eventually been meted out to him, and the majesty of the law vindicated."

The editorial continued:

We cannot express too strongly our disapprobation of this act.  At the same time, we have no desire to give expression to harsh or exciting language on this occasion.  The deed has been done.  It has, we admit, met with the general approval of the people; but we must nevertheless, give expression to our utter disapproval of mob law . . . if we are to have anarchy and confusion prevail, let the announcement be made, so that all may take warning . . . We had hoped that the good sense of the people had long since discovered the pernicious effects of such exhibitions.   We had hoped that all looked to the laws for the punishment of evil doers; and that the day of mob law had passed away.  But we were mistaken.

The lynching of Daniel, the piece went on. "will reflect disgrace upon the community, which years will not obliterate.  Our reputation abroad was none of the brightest, as a law-abiding community; there will now be a foundation for such charges."  Noting that it had no sympathy whatever for Daniel and certain that justice would have resulted from his trial, the Star concluded:

We had no right to turn executioner and no desire to soil ourselves with the blood of our fellow [being.]

It was hardly the righteous indignation of El Clamor, but the feelings of the Star did reveal a market change from attitudes expressed by the English-language press in the nearly eight years since the first issue of the Star made its debut in May 1851.  This also reflected a growing change in sentiment more broadly in the United States during the 1850s, which was the apogee of popular justice in the nation.  A slow, but growing confidence in policing, the courts, and the general administration of justice, along with what might be called "the civilizing process" (Steven Pinker's The Better Angels of Our Nature is now being read in this context), were part of the transformation.  Vigilantism and lynching were still to be resorted to on occasions in Los Angeles County until the mid-1870s, but they were less frequent and the administration of justice did improve.

But, at the end of 1858, that transition was still very much in its early stages, as evidenced by a statement written in the first book of the Register of Actions for the District Court as he ended the listing for the Pancho Daniel case:

The Gentleman who was defendant in this case, was accidentally hung, through the carelessness of some American citizens on Tuesday morning, November 30th A.D. 1858.

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Three

As the end of January 1857 approached and within a week of the murder of Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton and three members of his posse, Los Angeles constables Charles Baker and William Little and volunteer Charles Daly, the manhunt for the killers from the Flores-Daniel Gang intensified.

Reported mainly in the Los Angeles Star, with some coverage of El Clamor Público in their editions of 7 February, the efforts centered mainly on the Santa Ana Mountains in what today is eastern and central Orange County.  As noted previously, there were several companies of volunteer cavalry formed in Los Angeles, but, in this location, there appeared to have been two major groups, one of about two-dozen men from El Monte and another of about fifty Californios, led by Andrés Pico.  It was also said that there were over forty Indian guides employed, because they best knew the rough territory of the mountains.  Pico was also reported to have developed the plan of pursuit that was adopted by everyone.

Initially, these two were separate in the searches, but, on Friday the 30th, when Pico made it known by messenger that he was guarding a canyon where it was believed the gang was hiding--this being Santiago Canyon, the El Monte contingent hastened to unite with the Californios.  Indian scouts, meanwhile, not only located a contingent of bandits, but managed to get one of them, Antonio María Varela, to turn on his fellow bandits and arrange a means for their exposure and capture.

An initial attempt to pounce upon the bandits was foiled by weather, but then the next morning, another foray proved more successful.  Flores did see the coming posse and began to scale a mountain while forcing Varela to move ahead of him at gunpoint.  When some El Monteans arrived to reinforce the Californios, Varela was able to escape and surrender himself to Tomás Sánchez, one of Pico's lieutenants.

Part of the Los Angeles Star coverage of the pursuit of the Flores-Daniel Gang, 7 February 1857.

As Pico and his men followed Flores and a few bandits up a steep mountain, a message was sent to the Americans who were camped at Trabuco Pass, but hastened to join Pico.  What then transpired was remarkable for its daring by the desperate bandits seeking any means of escape.  According to the Star, Flores, Espinosa and López (Tapia) "slid their horses down a precipice to a kind [of] shelf about fifty feet below, where they abandoned them and scaped down a precipitous ledge of rocks, about 500 feet high, by aid of the brush growing on its side."  From there, the trip made off on an adjacent mountain, concealed by thick chapparal.

The trail was picked up, however, by an El Monte force and were spotted, though the trio "attempted to evade them by hiding in a cave in the cañada."  A gun battle erupted and one El Monte man was wounded, but sheer force led to the surrounding of the three and they were captured.

While this was done, Francisco Ardillero was caught by El Monte men as he tried to flee down the mountain.  Juan Silvas, who could not bring himself to follow Flores, López and Espinosa on their reckless, but successful, downhill trek, turned himself in to Pico's men.  Notably, Pico, bothered by the escape of Flores, Espinosa and López (Tapia), made the decision to summarily execute Silvas and Ardillero.  They were hung from a tree and it is said that this "hanging tree" still stands on the property of the Irvine Company (Irish native James Irvine bought up huge tracts of land during the drought-stricken doldrums of the mid-1860s for pennies per acre.)

The hangings of Ardillero and Silvas met with very little comment from either paper initially, with the Star barely making mention at all, while the report in El Clamor was matter-of-fact, observing that "it was resolved to execute them so that they would not be able to easily escape."  The paper did, without explanation, refer to "the famous Güero Ardillero," whose true name was never revealed.

Coverage of the lynching of Juan Silvas and Francisco Ardillero, El Clamor Público, 7 February 1857.

Whether the Flores-Daniel gang consisted of some fifty men or considerably less when committing their depredations at San Juan, there had clearly been a dispersal of a good portion of their number, if only a half-dozen remained holed up in the mountains.  It was stated that Daniel, Andrés Fontes, Santos, and the man known then as Piquinini, had hightailed it to Los Angeles after leaving the Santa Ana Mountains.

Once the initial capture took place, it was decided to form three groups, with Pico taking his Californios and the Americans divided into two.  After a two days and one day, presumably meaning Sunday the 1st of February, some portion of the posses, apparently members of the El Monte contingent, "came in sight of the robbers who had escaped."  These three men then hightailed it for another location with a three-mile chase and some shooting involved with just four of the pursuers after the trio.  When the remainder of the hunters arrived and surrounded the hunted, these latter "seeing their position, laid down their arms and surrendered."

The Star reported that Flores had Sheriff Barton's watch and a cache of arms "and other plunder" was recovered.  Then, the prisoners were removed some five miles from the location of capture to the home of Teodocio Yorba on the Rancho Lomas de Santiago, in the hills of what is now Tustin and Irvine.  Camping there, the posse tied up the prisoners and had them guarded, but "from the negligence of the guard, the prisoners effected their escape."  Although a search was effected, it was fruitless and the pursuers returned to El Monte to resupply and reorganize, but on Wednesday evening, it was learned that another capture was accomplished.

The lauding of Andrés Pico and his Mounted Californians from the Star, 7 February 1857.

In the Abel Stearns Collection of the Huntington Library, Art Galleries and Botanical Gardens, there are a few surviving letters written in Spanish by Andrés and Pío Pico to John S. Griffin, who oversaw the efforts to capture the bandits, and Stearns.  One letter from Andrés to Stearns, dated 29 January, noted that "today at eight in the morning I arrived at this rancho [San Joaquin] with a force under my command numbering 32 men" and that several others were recruited from the ranch, with Pico ready to pursue the "malvados [evildoers]."

On 2 February, Andrés wrote to Griffin to give him an update "of all my operations, all of which I have told to all the Americans that accompanied me in these efforts."  Pico expressed the hope that they would quickly put an end to the manhunt as "I am tired."

From his "Ranchito" in present-day Whittier, Pío wrote to Griffin on 1 February, that "at 8 o'clock in the evening  . . . in Santiago [Canyon] they caught three more of the thieves, these are Juan Flores, Jesus Espinosa and Leonardo Lopez.  Nothing more came of this encounter other than that one of the Americans had a small injury in his arm."

In its coverage of the 7th, the Star did take time to compliment the citizens of San Gabriel and El Monte, as well as Californios for their labors in pursuing the bandits, but that 

the exertions of the Californian company, under Don Andres Pico, are the theme of all tongues.  Laboring under many disadvantages, besides but hardly armed [with lances, it was stated], they bravely set out on the arduous duty and well and nobly have they accomplished it.  They have earned for themselves the respect and admiration of the whole community.  It is pleasant to find that the only emulation among the Californian and American citizens is, who can best act for and defend, their common country.  Thus may it be.

Meanwhile, James Thompson, who became sheriff after Barton's murder, led over twenty-five men on a search to San Gabriel and then headed northwest through modern Pasadena, La Cañada, and Tujunga before emerging in the San Fernando Valley and making their way to Encino.  Detachments of volunteers and army personnel from the new Fort Tejon were dispatched to guard passes like San Fernando and Simi and roads leading north towards the Central Valley and west towards Ventura and Santa Barbara.

It was Simi that a bedraggled, famished and thirsty Juan Flores emerged from a concealed place in search of water, where two Fort Tejon soldiers spotted and then arrested him.  He had only a worn-out horse, no weapon and just a bit of dried beef for sustenance.  While he tried to pass himself off as a laborer from Mission San Fernando, he was recognized when brought to a camp.  Two others assumed to be part of the gang managed to slip through Simi when guards left their posts to seek forage for their horses.

Flores stated that, after he, Espinosa and López (Tapía) escaped from the Santa Ana Mountains, they had separated and he had not seen the other two, it appears that the two men who escaped through Simi were his compatriots.  Moreover, on the way with Thompson to Los Angeles, Flores claimed that it was Daniel who was the head of the bandit gang.  He had been wounded in his determined scramble down the steep slopes of the Santa Anas when he fell and his gun went off, striking his right arm.  Flores requested that he see a clergyman and write to his mother, before making his confession and making "ready for his fate."

The Star reported that Flores was calm while riding into Los Angeles until he got a look at the crowd waiting for him when he got to the jail and begged Thompson not to heave him.  He was then confined in a cell and clamped in irons "to await the action of the people."  Meantime, Espinosa and Daniel were nowhere to be found.

El Clamor Público, reporting on Flores's confinement, noted that he was calm and "seems unfeeling to the destiny that he expects."  It also stated that a "multitude of curious persons crowded to see so brave a man of whom so many daring feats are counted."  Evidently, one of the visitors asked him how he felt being a thief, to which the bandit coolly replied, "become a thief and you will know."  Otherwise, the paper observed, Flores was "asked a variety of questions and he responded to them with the greatest tranquility and courtesy."

In discussing the shared efforts of Americans and Californios in the manhunt for Flores and his compatriots, El Clamor noted that

it is a worthy thing to congratulate the good harmony that reigned during the campaign between the Californios, under the command of Don Andrés Pico and the citizens of the Monte . . .  In all of the efforts and adversities in which they were found, they helped each other with the greatest of frankness and cordiality.

The paper continued by noting that "by these actions, the Californios have vindicated their honor" and quieted the criticism of those who would identofy them with those they pursued.  The paper even expressed the hope that the success of the hunt would limit the motives of some to complain about the deficiency of the law and the "indolence of judges," while criminals would "choose another, more attractive place to exercise their abilities."  It suggested that Los Angeles, being "one of the most beautiful cities in California," with its "vineyards, fields and ranches inviting to enterprising men." could now expect a new era of tranquility and a growing, flourishing and happy population, in contrast to the murders and other crimes recently committed.

El Clamor was also very complimentary of the late sheriff, devoting a lengthy 14 February editorial to "this gentleman [who] was one of that energetic class of Americans who lived among us before the [Mexican-American] war."  Moreover, "the Californios knew him very well, and enjoyed his esteeem; and in his heart, we believe, was a friend of them, while he never lost his character and dignity as an American."  The paper noted that he was known as an industrious farm laborer and carpenter, but for four years was the city marshal and was a "model of a pure integrity and of a recognized value, and always distinguished by the calmness and firmness of his actions."  It specifically cited "his kind patience, as the tax collector, among our population."

The late Sheriff Barton was lionized in this El Clamor Público editorial, 14 February 1857.

The paper also cited his demeanor and behavior during a particularly trying episode, when a crowd sought the lynching of murderer Dave Brown, just after the legal execution of another convicted killer, Felipe Alvitre, was carried out in January 1855.  It was stated that "the firm conduct which he maintained in the execution of David Brown" was such that, "not all know that, the night before the event, he created his last will and testament" and that he was determined the maintain the trust of those who voted for him, and "was prepared to die rather than violate his duty," before being compelled to yield to the mob.

The editorial concluded that, "we have not told everything that can be said of Señor Santiago R. Barton.  It is but the feeble reflection of a character who deserves the deepest respect . . . [and]
no monument to his memory will be able to represent it truly."  Noting that Barton represented the supermacy of law, the paper claimed that this "is the true honor and compliment towards this lamented individual."

With all of the good feeling expressed by the press about the work of the joint companies in the search and capture of members of the Flores-Daniel Gang, there was soon a major fissure in the goodwill, based on news coming out of the mission town of San Gabriel.  This will be the theme of the next post.

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Two

As the melancholy news of the murders of Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton, Los Angeles constables William Little and Charles Baker and volunteer Charles Daly reached town late on Friday, 23 January 1857, it didn't take long for the sadness to manifest itself into anger and then vengefulness.

The first report in El Clamor Público on the 24th stated "it is impossible to give an idea of the feelings of pain and consternation that this sad news will cause the friends of Mr. Barton" and then noted that the bandits faced "a terrible retribution . . . for the wickedness of the crimes they have been committing."

A week later, the Star offered this passionate statement:

Will their deaths be unavenged—will the people rise in their might, and seep the villains and murderers from the face of the earth—or will the present deep feeling be allowed to exhaust itself in idle complainings?  Time will tell.  Four of our best and bravest have fallen.  Their blood cries from the ground for vengeance.  How long?

Details were provided in both papers in their editions of the 31st, including the fact that, on the 21st, Garnet Hardy, whose brother Alfred survived the attack, was rode with goods for San Juan Capistrano and was warned there that he would be robbed and killed if he showed himself.  It was Hardy who was the victim of a robbery of three horses valued at $225 by Juan Flores and Juan Gonzalez, for which the two men were convicted in April 1855 of grand larceny and sentenced to three year terms at San Quentin.  On 8 October 1856, Flores and Gonzalez escaped from the prison and headed south with compatriots--it is possible they did so with the express purpose of exacting revenge for their convictions.  Gonzalez was later recaptured and returned to San Quentin in July.

Details of the massacre as published in the Star, 31 January 1857.

Hardy wrote to his brother in Los Angeles about the threat to him and Barton was notified, with the formation of the posse being the result.  On Thursday, though, the robberies of Garcia, Charles, Krazewski and Pflugardt and the murder of the latter took place.  It was said that, at the store of the latter, the criminals, "ordered his assistant to serve up supper for them on the counter, where they deliberately ate it, the dead body lying before them all the time."

Friday morning, Barton and his men reached the Sepulveda home at Rancho San Joaquin and were told that there were some fifty men in the gang, but this warning was ignored.  Pressing on twelve miles more, the little posse encountered a lone rider a mile off, and Little and Baker headed out to follow him, at which some twenty men, it was reported, attacked.  By the time, the Sheriff and the volunteers arrived (it was also stated there was an unnamed and unarmed French guide with the group), the Los Angeles constabes were dead.

It was reported that one bandit was heard shouting, "God damn you, I have got you now," to which Barton replied, "I reckon I have got you too."  Horace Bell, in his account of the incident in his Reminiscences of a Ranger, claimed he was told by Andres Fontes, one of the bandits, that it was Fontes who uttered this to the sheriff.  But, the account on the 31st in the Star stated that it was Daniel who killed Barton and that the former was considered the captain of the group until he was wounded by the sheriff in his futile return fire.  Flores, reported to have killed Baker, then took control of the gang after Daniel was incapacitated.

Daly, who was on a mule, managed to ride three miles while being chased before he was overtaken and gunned down.  Hardy "seeing Barton fall, called to Alexander, stating, also, that he had lost his pistol" in the confusion and they galloped straight for the Sepulveda place, narrowly avoiding being hunted down by some of the bandits, of whom it was said three were killed in the melee.  After the bandits returned south, Alexander rode on to El Monte and Hardy to Los Angeles to break the news of the disaster.

What may have stirred the anger and resentment of the community at large more than anything, however, was what was found when the bodies of the dead quartet were retrieved and returned to Los Angeles for funerals and burials.  The bodies had been looted and Barton's papers were found torn into pieces, which were carefully gathered and reassembled later.  The sheriff's boots were missing as were the hats of Little and Baker.  Not only were the men found with bullet wounds from the battle but Barton was shot in the left eye and the constables were each shot in the right eye--this was clearly a message left by the bandits, who also shot Daly in the mouth, in what was an "execution style" desecration of the bodies after death.

The names of some of the alleged bandits were published, though it is unknown how that information was provided,  They included Daniel, Flores, Juan Silvas, alleged to have killed Little, Antonio María Varela, Gonzalez, a man known at the time only as Benito, Faustino Garcia, and twins Dolores and Lorenzo Ruiz.  There were, in turned out, more, as will be noted subsequently.

Almost immediately, a part of some forty men, headed by marshal William Getman, rode south to try to locate and ferret out the gang and spent Sunday and Monday, the 25th and 26th, at an abandoned camp, said to have been that of the bandits, and then at San Juan, where they were told that Flores and others had been there, "boasting that they were desperadoes and relating with exultation the incidents of the massacre, at the same time giving their victims credit for having fought bravely."  During this foray, an El Monte resident named only as Buckner accidentally shot himself and died of his wounds before the group returned to Los Angeles.

On Thursday the 29th a large public meeting was held in Los Angeles to organize a defense of the region and a manhunt for the killers, with the general coordination supervised by physician John S. Griffin, who came to Los Angeles with the invading American forces during the Mexican-American War.  Interestingly, several companies of citizen cavalry were pressed into service, including those consisting of French, German and native Californian citizens, while there were at least two American groups, with a large coterie of "Monte Boys" from El Monte in the lists.  Early on Friday the 30th, men from these different cohorts rode out to attend to their duties.

An editorial and article on the Barton killings in El Clamor Público, 31 January 1857.  A microfilm copy of the paper was provided by Paul Bryan Gray.

Writing about the events of the week, El Clamor Público exclaimed,

"Californios!  It is a friend who speaks to you.  For many years we have patiently suffered infinite calamities.  Our beautiful city has been the theater of innumerable murders, robberies, and crimes of every species.  Our families have seen infinite dangers and our isolated ranches have seen the evil incursions of thieves."  

 Noting that the Spanish-speaking community was "indissolubly tied with Americans," the paper called on its readers to respect the law and seek to protect life and propoerty.  It observed that "now is the time to prove that we are loyal to the country and are good citizens and that we desire to be united with all for the public tranquility and welfare of our families."
The paper went on:

Californios!  It is known that a squad of thieves walks, without principles, without religion, and without piety, stealing and murdering all that they find.  They respect no one: they steal as much from the American as the Californios; they murder the French as the Hebrew! . . . If by chance we find some of the criminals, do not hide him, but deliver him to justice so that, as a delinquent, he is to receive the punishment deserved and that he may be a lesson for those who have strayed due to the impulses of his bad inclinations.

It concluded by observing that "we are sure that none of our good fellow citizens shelter the thieves or offer the least sympathy.  We deny every animosity and we forget our misfortnes, being occupied only with the future of our families!"

The opening stanzas from verses by the teenage poet Ina Coolbrith, later a famed literary figure in California, written on 26 January 1857 and published in the Star on  the 31st.

Then, there was the outpouring of emotion by a young teenaged girl, a budding poet who submitted a lengthy meditation on the horrors attending the massacre of Barton, Baker, Little and Daly in stanzas ranging from melancholy to utter rage:

Aye, lay them rest in the damp, cold earth,

And “let there be wailing and weeping,”

For no voice but God’s can again call them forth

From the graves where they’re silently sleeping.

Yet first bend above them to take one last look,

At those who have passed through Death’s portal,

Ere the cold earth has closed over four as brave hearts,

As e’er beat in the breast of a mortal.

Then hark, to the sod on their coffin lids fall,

As their forms to the grave we have given ;

Never, no never to behold them again,

Till we meet them, all glorious, in heaven.

Alas, for their kindred in lands far away,

When, at length, they shall hear the sad story,

How the forms of their lived ones, far over the sea,

Were found, all so mangled and gory.

Parent, brothers and sisters, will mourn for the lost,

For, alas, they can never regain them,

And in heart-breaking sorrow will pray to their God

For revenge on the ones who have slain them.

Aye, revenge on their murderers!  Is there no true man,

Not one, to act as the avenger

Of the four noble beings who lost their own lives

In defending this people from danger.

Go, seek for the inhuman, ruffianly horde

Nor strive, as ye do, to avoid them,

Go forth in the names of the brave men they’ve killed,

And rest not until you have destroyed them.

And they, who are sleeping in death’s cold embrace,

Time can ne’er from our memory estrange them ;

Then, O! while the sod is yet damp on their graves,

Go forth, in God’s name, and avenge them.

Her name was Ina Coolbrith and, while she had published a few poems in the Star recently, she would later go on to fame as one of California's noted literary figures in subsequent years.  Her "Lines on the Recent Massacre" may be as redolent of the raging feelings of many in Los Angeles as any other writing from the time.  With this, we'll continue the story with the next post.

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part One

On this date in 1857, the two weekly newspapers, the Star and El Clamor Público, in the little frontier town of Los Angeles (population somewhere around 4 or 5,000), reported that late news had arrived in town the day before of the massacre of Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton and three members of a posse that he brought with him as he hunted bandits that had committed murder and robberies in the mission town of San Juan Capistrano at the southern reaches of the county.

For about a month prior, a group that came to be known as the Flores-Daniel gang rode down from the north and allegedly committed a series of crimes in Los Angeles before heading down to San Juan.

Said to be the principal figure, Juan Flores escaped from San Quentin prison on 8 October 1856 with Juan Gonzalez and another man and promptly made his way down the coast, assembling a group that appears to have been about ten or so persons, including purported co-leader Francisco "Pancho" Daniel.  As stories proliferated of their activities, however, the rumors ballooned the number significantly higher, into the dozens or much more.

In any case, the gang established themselves at San Juan, robbing several stores (those of Manuel Garcia, Henry Charles, Michael Krazewski, and George Plugardt), killing Pflugardt, and taking a group of horses from a San Diego man named Lopez, among other crimes.

When the news of Pflugardt's death reached Los Angeles, with the detail that the gang casually ate a dinner while the store owner's body lay on the floor, Barton, recently elected as sheriff after several years as Los Angeles's marshal, gathered up his little posse, and headed south.  The other members of this party included Los Angeles constables William Little and Charles Baker and volunteers Alfred Hardy, Frank Alexander and Charles Daly.

From the Los Angeles Star, 24 January 1857.

Barton and his crew stopped at the Rancho San Joaquín, owned by the Sepulveda family, to rest and resupply, but were sternly warned by the family that the gang was of a much greater number and that Barton was woefully undermanned.  A man reputedly of great courage, but also headstrong, Barton ignored the advice and proceeded towards San Juan.

News reports were spotty, because of the late arrival of the slaughter, but Barton and his posse saw a lone rider alongside the road and split into two, with one group pursuing the rider and the other continuing along the road.  As that highway dipped into a natural depression in the landscape, the attack commenced.  The battle was short and disastrous.

Barton, Little, and Baker were killed at the site of the confrontation, while Daly, who was inexplicably riding a mule and was somewhat removed from the battle scene, attempted to flee, but was overtaken after a few miles, and killed.

Alexander and Hardy managed, with their fleet horses, to make it back to San Joaquin and shelter, at which point the bandit gang, which had been hot on their heels, wheeled about and rode back to San Juan.

From El Clamor Público, 24 January 1857.  Thanks to Paul Bryan Gray for providing microfilm of the newspaper.

While Alexander rode to El Monte to alert the citizens there of the disaster, Hardy proceeded to Los Angeles to share the news.  In the next post, more details of the massacre and the early response will be detailed, so check back soon.

Meanwhile, today's Curious Cases event on the Barton massacre at the Homestead Museum in the City of Industry, is booked full (though you ,might call 626-968-8492 to see about stand-by status), but, for those who are interested, there will be a second offering of the participatory program at the monthly meeting of the Orange County Historical Society on Thursday, 11 February.  For more info, click here.