Barton Massacre Podcast from KUCI Radio, Part Two

The second and final part of an interview on the Barton Massacre of 1857 conducted with Ellen Bell of the KUCI radio program, "Irvine History Today" is up on her blog: http://irvinehistorytoday.blogspot.com/.

Barton Massacre Podcast from KUCI Radio, Part One

Last Wednesday afternoon, I sat down with Ellen Bell, host of KUCI's Irvine History Today to talk about the Barton Massacre of 1857.  The first of two parts aired yesterday from 4 to 4:30 p.m., though the public station's signal strength is pretty much localized to the Irvine area.

However, a podcast of that first segment is available through Ellen's blog of the same name and can be accessed here.

The discussion ranged from the specifics of the incident, in which county sheriff James Barton and three member of his posse were gunned down by the Flores-Daniel Gang, to what the Irvine area was like 150 years ago, to the racial tension, fear, and revenge that drove those who responded to the killings as they hunted down gang members, and more.

Ellen had attended my presentation on the Barton massacre to the Orange County Historical Society about a month ago involving a lecture and group discussion with over 60 participants and invited me for the interview.

The second part will air next Wednesday the 9th at 4 p.m., if you happen to be close enough to the campus at UC Irvine to pick up that signal.

Otherwise, head over to Ellen's blog to hear the podcast!

Meanwhile, we're nearing the end of the series on this blog about the massacre with the next post concerning the trial and lynching of Francisco "Pancho" Daniel, so check back for that!

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Seven: An "Anonymous" El Clamor Público Editorial

In the midst of the increasing excesses of popular justice resulting from the late January 1857 murders of Los Angeles County Sheriff James Barton and three members of his posse hunting the Flores-Daniel gang of bandits, the gap between the coverage and editorializing of the English-language Los Angeles Star and the Spanish-language El Clamor Público widened.

Occasionally, as noted previously, earlier instances of lynching were cited, generally by El Clamor to put some context to the current spate of executions visited upon gang members and others by locals.  An interesting example of an editorial to appear in that paper was on 21 February and was titled "Cipriano Sandoval: A Reminiscence."

The unnamed author began his piece by explaining his reversion to an event that happened almost five years prior, "as showing how much caution is necessary in popular movements against crime, and when the movers are of the soundest heads and the best hearts, let us mention a fact now almost forgotten in our history."

That fact had to do with the late 1852 murder of Joshua H. Bean, who was widely known for his role as a state militia general in the widespread campaign against a revolt led by Chief Antonio Garra of the Cupeño Indians in San Diego County.  After that effort ended, Bean relocated to San Gabriel, where he operated a saloon in the shadow of the mission.

One night, Bean was shot to death and in the shadowy investigation that followed, it was claimed by a local woman, said to be the lover of legendary bandit, Joaquín Murieta, that the perpetrator was Cipriano Sandoval.  A popular meeting convicted Sandoval for the murder and he was lynched along with a pair of other suspects in Los Angeles.  This incident will be covered in detail in a later post here.

The forgotten fact noted by the editorialist was accompanied by the statement that

Of seven persons who have been hung on Fort Hill, or elsewhere, during the last seven years, by the people of Los Angeles, without legal authority—one was clearly innocent [original italics] of the crime with which he was charged. . . The name of this unfortunate man was Cipriano Sandoval.

Continuing on, the writer observed that Sandoval "was a simple, ignorant, obscure man who had the misfortune to be found at San Gabriel—where he lived soberly and worked industriously at this trade."  Referring to Bean's murder, the author then claimed that "the Indian women of that pueblito pointed to another as the real author of the deed; and many judicious men thought they had no motive to lie."

As it turned out, using Indian testimony in matters of capital cases in court was forbidden by statute, but this would not have been the case, obviously, in a so-called "popular tribunal," or citizen's court.  Still, the "trial" held for Sandoval did not, evidently, include any Indian women testifying before the citizen jury.

Strangely, the editorial then continued with a sentence starting with "It happened that . . ." before the text dissolved into nearly three full lines of ellipses.  When the article resumed, it was to remark that "it is terrible to reflect that the wretched shoemaker, Cipriano, was hurried to his end, by the side of two alleged murderers [for other crimes] . . ."

A portion of an unattributed editorial from El Clamor Público on the 1852 lynching of Cipriano Sandoval that was connected to the excesses wrought at San Gabriel on several men, including Diego Navarro, who may have been the corollary to Sandoval in the mind of the writer:  District Court judge Benjamin Hayes.  Thanks to Paul Bryan Gray for providing microfilmed copies of this paper.

Meanwhile, the writer went on, Sandoval's demise took place "amid the cheerful congratulations lavished on one whose better lot it was to have rich and influential friends."  But, this shield was only effective for so long as "the death-bed lamentations of this last, not long after, revealed the whole truth, if it was not sufficiently known before."

The author then turned to religious feeling, stating that "the main authors in that tragedy [may] hopefully be forgiven" and the addressed the "eternally just God" whose designs are "inscrutable," so that "remunderation does not belong to man, but remains in your mighty hand!"  As for the "punishment of the innocent" like Sandoval, this signified "the triumph of proud and powerful crimes" and led to the conclusion that "this is justice in this world" which represented a "great and solemn mystery!"

Returning to the present circumstance of the lynching of Juan Flores, the editorialist noted that

there was a singular propriety, although not intended, in changing the spot of execution, when the seventh [lynching victim in the town's history] was released to eternity last Saturday, for consecrated was the ground on which had fallen the blood of innocence

In other words, according to this writer, Flores was executed on precisely the same spot as Sandoval.  To "all of which have a heart susceptible of the most tender of sensibilities," the editorial concluded, "may they turn to the barren brow of that fatal hill, [and] let them spill a tear, not without a prayer, for poor SANDOVAL.   May he rest in peace! [original italics and capitalization]"

Being that El Clamor Público was owned, edited and written mainly by its teenage prodigy, Francisco P. Ramirez, it would natural to conclude that this passionate indictment of popular justice was penned by him.  It was not.

Instead, the writer was none other than the district court judge, Benjamin Hayes.  In volume 43 of his extensive scrapbooks of material collated over his many years in southern California, much of which concerned crime, criminal justice and Hayes' years as an attorney and judge and which is now housed at the Bancroft Library at the University of California, Berkeley, the jurist wrote:

It has always been a “question,” as to the author of the death of Gen. Bean.  None of the Californians ever believed, that Cipriano Sandoval was guilty.  The subject was somewhat revived in the year 1857, during the excitement ensuing upon the murder of Sheriff Barton.  Among other articles then written by me, in Spanish, was the annexed in Spanish—a translation of which also appeared in the San Francisco Herald.

Though he doesn't specify who the Cipriano Sandoval was in the aftermath of the Barton killings, it seems almost certain that it was one the men killed in the gross excesses of vigilantism at San Gabriel, most probably Diego Navarro.

Hayes then added a marginal note in the scrapbook: “I have added a brief review of the cases of “Lynch Law” up to 1857,  when the celebrated “Barton” excitement occurred."  This editorial appeared in the 14 March edition of El Clamor Público and will be the subject of a post coming soon.

Barton Massacre Program in Orange This Thursday

"Revolutionaries or Ruffians: The Massacre of Sheriff James Barton and Posse, 1857," a presentation and group discussion about the infamous murders and the often excessive manhunt for the killers that followed, is being offered by the Orange County Historical Society this Thursday the 11th at 7 p.m.  The event is being held at Trinity Episcopal Church, 2400 N. Canal Street in Orange, just west of the 55 Freeway near Lincoln Avenue.

The PowerPoint-illustrated talk discusses Los Angeles during the 1850s, its Gold Rush years, the mix of people living in the area, the lack of government resources and support for law enforcement and the courts, staggering rates of crime and violence, and other related topics.  Then, the specifics of the killings of the sheriff and three members of his posse and the weeks-long manhunt to track down the murderers, including gross excesses committed upon some who were not directly linked to the slayings.

After that, members of the audience, using some printed examples of newspaper articles, autobiographies and other items from the time, will discuss the crime, the manhunt, what the issues were in terms of race and ethnicity, policing, crime, criminal justice, and others.  This discussion will seek connections to events and topics today, as well.

This program should be an exciting and stimulating one, so click here for more information.

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Four

In the aftermath of the brutal slayings in January 1857 of Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton and three members of a posse led by him to find members of the Flores-Daniel Gang in what is now Orange County, a coordinated effort involving well over 100 men scoured the Santa Ana Mountains and passes leading to and from the Los Angeles region.

A number of men were captured and executed by members of the organized citizen calvaries in the days after the murders, but there were also some gross excesses that took place.  The most notorious occurred in San Gabriel on Thursday the 29th.  The Los Angeles Star reported that

On Thursday last, Mr. Cyrus Sanford, of the Mission [San Gabriel], was attacked by Miguel Soto and two others.  Mr. Stockton came to his assistance, and the fight continued for some time pretty sharp, in close quarters.  Sanford shot Soto in the thigh, and Soto shot Sanford’s horse four times in the breast.  Soto, being disabled, left his horse, and ran afoot to take refuge in a marsh near at hand.  He managed to cover up his body with mud and weeds.  At this time some of the citizens from Monte., Messrs. Houstin, King, and Ward came up, and set fire to the weeds and burned them off the ground.  This exposed the position of the crafty robber, when one of the party, Mr. King, we believe, fired and shot Soto through the heart.  The head of the robber was then cut off and taken to the Monte, where it was recognized by Mr. W. H. Peterson, as the head of Miguel Soto, who had been examined before Justice Sackett for the robbery and attempt at murder of Mr. Twist some time ago. [there is a case, dated 23 April 1857, for four men, Juan Gonzales and Benito Juarez—identified above as being part of the Daniel/Flores gang—being among them, along with Eusebio Gonzales and Miguel Blanco—all were acquitted.]

The Star was provided information that "Soto . . . had with him . .  a gun, recognized as one lent by F[rancis] Mellus, Esq. to Sheriff Barton, previous to starting on his ill-fated expedition."

Los Angeles Star, 31 January 1857.

In a separate article from the same edition, the paper stated, “a number of arrests were made at the time by the people of the Mission of San Gabriel, who afterwards organized a court and tried the prisoners, and sentenced them to be hung.”  This included Juan Valenzuela, Pedro Lopez, and Diego Navarro.  “The rope having broke in the course of execution, the men were led out and shot dead.”

“Thus four of the banditti who recently committed the murder of Sheriff Barton and his three associates, have expiated their offences with their lives—and others will follow.”  Yet none of these four men were identified earlier in that day's Star as being members of the Flores/Daniel gang.

Separately, Miguel Blanco, while in jail, confessed that Soto, shot at the Mission, was concerned in the Twist robbery and confessed his own involvement and that of the party.   Juan Gonzalez, who may have been the same man of that name who escaped with Juan Flores from San Quentin in October 1856, and Benito Juarez, were in the paper's list of those involved in the Barton murders.

On 23 April, Blanco, Juarez, Gonzalez and the latter's brother, Eusebio, were tried in the county's Court of Sessions, on the charge of stealing $1000 and other items from Twist, who was a Los Angeles citizen militia leader and ex-Santa Barbara County sheriff, and acquitted of the charges.  If Juan Gonzalez was the same escapee from state prison, though, he was returned on 24 July.

As for El Clamor Público, its take on the San Gabriel killings was entirely different from that of the Star.  Its edition of 31 January reported that "last Thursday, there were four individuals arrested suspected of being accomplices in the late murders; three of them were hung and a fourth killed by gunfire."  The paper then criticized the fact that "a company of armed men, under the pretext of being empowered to summaril execute criminals threw themselves like voracious lions on some unhappy victims of their wild appetite, and they have sacrificed them in outrageous scaffolds."

El Clamor Público, 31 January 1857.

In listing the names of the four dead men, El Clamor focused on Navarro, providing a statement from his father that the young man was applying brea (tar) on the roof of the family house and came down when several armed men approached and then seized Navarro and took him to the spot of execution.  It was noted that the rope broke when Navarro was swung up, but that "the bloody mob, most of them drunken" then shot and mortally wounded him and that, Navarro's wife, a "heroic woman," took the dying Navarro in her arms and held him until he expired.

The paper concluded this initial coverage with some "Observations," including the fact that here was an instance in which "authorities do not comply with their responsibilities" and although a community might rise up "there is no reason for sacrificing innocent victims in a furor."  The editorial went on to note that "In all countries that call themselves civilized, there is a distinction between virtue and vice, but never has it been seen that some will pay for one with the lack of the other."

In coming editions, the equally sharp distinctions between the two papers in the analysis of what happened at San Gabriel became more manifest and heated.

In its 7 February number, the Star decried the "false account of events" propagated by its rival and stated "we deem it necessary to give a correct statement of facts as they were."  The paper reported that Cyrus Sanford and two other men were riding near the mission when William M. Stockton, a nearby rancher, rode towards the trip "with a Mexican, while another Mexican approached them from one side," this pair evidently traveling together until Stockton met up with one and the other rode off to the side.  When Sanford and his companions were in view, Stockton yelled out "look for that man, he's a thief."  The two Mexicans then allegedly fired at Sanford and another man, said to be Navarro rode away and was overtaken at his home.  Asked why he fled, Navarro was said to have made up a story about seeking money from one of the pair of Mexicans that owed him.  Soto was supposedly one of these two and ran off into the swamp where he was then killed by one of the King brothers of El Monte.

Los Angeles Star, 7 February 1857.

From there "a general search took place, and a large number of suspected persons were taken prisoners—among them Pedro Lopez and Juan Valenzuela."  A popular tribunal was held and it was reported that among the jurymen "were some natives" and "a fair and impartial rial was given them."  As proof of this, it was stated that "a large number were released."  Navarro was said to be "of general bad character, and dangerous to be permitted to live in any peaceable community, and to be connected with thieving parties."  Valenzuela was determined to be "an old offender" guilty of involvement "in serveral robberies and attempted burglaries" including a recent theft of sheep.  Lopez was accused of being a thief of a mule and "maintaining himself by cock-fighting and cattles-stealing."  

Because of these accusations and associations, "each of these men were sentenced to die, and they were executed."  As to the claim that Navarro died in the arms of his wife, it "never had any truth in it, but is one of that class articles which has too often, for the last year, appeared in that incendiary publication called El Clamor Publico."

In its turn, that paper, in its edition of the 7th, observed that, even "if all this certain that he [Miguel Soto] was a criminal, his death does not stop being terrible."  It related that the firing of the swamp where he was hidden caused Soto, "in the agony of his pain" to "in desperation dig a pit with his hands to bury himself."  Then, he was killed and "his head was cut off and the body remained abandoned for food for the animals and birds."  It went on to suggest that "Evil be a man and having committed crimes that are detestable to the eyes of the community, the noble heart always takes pity on what he feels for humanity and he does not pursue them as if they were the same as so many animals of the field."

El Clamor Público, 7 February 1857.

A separate editorial in El Clamor claimed that "a general feeling of indignation has been excited amongst our fellow citizens concerning the executions that took place in San Gabriel of the four individuals suspected of being accomplices of the thieves" who killed Barton and his posse members.  It further stated that "recent revelations have declared they were not gulty of the crimes attributed to them and if at some time they had done things that merited the exemplary punishment given to them, we are ignorant of it."  Declaiming to "antagonize among the races that live here," the paper wrote that "our object is the cause of understanding justice, so that all of this county's inhabitants can live in more tranquil circumstances and in better harmony than before."

Still, El Clamor decried the fact that public vindication had to be satisfied and called for an acceptable reason was needed for "those four people who perished so ignominiously."  It ended by stating that "what we ask is what we believe is very just" pertaining "to the rights of equality, justice and liberty that the laws confer on us, as having the privilege of being born here."

The rhetoric would only intensify as will be shown in the next post.  

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.

Curious Cases: Exploring Law and Order in Early Los Angeles

The second year of Curious Cases: Exploring Law and Order in Early Los Angeles, a program looking at notorious and fascinating criminal events in the region from the 1850s to the 1870s, is starting soon at the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum in the City of Industry (click here for the museum Web site).

The four-part series for 2016 looks at four dramatic events: the 1857 massacre of county sheriff James R. Barton and his posse by bandits in what is now Orange County; the Lugo Case of 1851, involving murders at Cajon Pass, the implicating of two members of the well-known Californio family, and out-of-town bandits looking to make a quick buck, but instead coming to a gruesome demise; a group of mass lynchings in late 1863; and the lynching of multiple murderer Michel Lachenais in late 1870.

For each of the parts, there will be a PowerPoint-illustrated lecture giving background on the events, followed by a group discussion in which participants will be given some primary source material (newspaper accounts, court record information, autobiography snippets, etc.) to help guide the interchange.

Themes involving criminal justice administration, popular justice (vigilantism), race and ethnicity and others will be explored during the discussions.  In each case, there'll be some connections made to present-day situations--and there have been many controversial law-and-order matters in our country in recent months and years.

The dates are 24 January (Barton massacre); 15 May (Lugo Case); 14 August (1863 lynchings); and 16 October (Lachenais lynching) with reservations opened about six weeks ahead of time.  For the first installment, coming up two weeks from today, it is recommended to call or email ASAP to make your reservations.  The Homestead Museum number is 626.968.8492 and the email address is info@homesteadmuseum.org,

In something new for this year, two of these presentations are traveling.  The Barton massacre installment will also be presented at 7:30 p.m. at the 11 February meeting of the Orange County Historical Society (click here for the Society's Web site), held at Trinity Episcopal Church, 2400 N. Canal Street in Orange.  The Lugo Case program is going to be offered on 5 June at the A.K. Smiley Library in Redlands, with details still being worked out.

A bonus to the Curious Cases roster is a special lecture on Saturday, 6 February at 2 p.m., at the Homestead Museum, by award-winning historian and Yale professor, John Mack Faragher, based on his brand-new book, Eternity Street: Violence and Justice in Frontier Los Angeles.  Reservations are also open for that event--again, by contracting the museum at 626.968.8492.  For more on Prof. Faragher's book, please click here.

Meanwhile, please keep checking back with the Trembling on the Brink blog for more history of crime, violence and criminal justice from the 1850s to the 1870s, as well as the Trembling Facebook page here.  There is also a Twitter feed for the latest news on blog posts, which is here.