Showing posts with label Juan Flores. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Juan Flores. Show all posts

Saturday, December 3, 2016

The Big House VI: San Quentin State Prison and Los Angeles County Inmates

The April 1855 term of the Los Angeles County Court of Sessions [renamed in 1863 the County Court] included the cases of four men tried for felonies.  One of these José María Fuentes, up on the charge of assault with the intent to commit murder against Santiago Arostes in a shooting affray led , in his trial on the 14th, to a verdict of not guilty.  The other three men, though, were convicted in their in the trials and sent up to San Quentin state prison to serve out their terms.

One trial involved that of Edward J. Welsh, who was charged with committing a robbery against J.P. Owensby, a carpenter who, in 1864-1865 served as Los Angeles marshal.  Welsh was tried on 22 April, found guilty, and was given a three-year prison term.

The other two individuals were Juan Gonzales and Juan Flores, convicted on a grand larceny charge for the theft of three horses valued at $225 from teamster Garnett Hardy.  The trial of Flores and Gonzales was on 14 April and they were convicted and sentenced to three-year terms.

The trio were taken by steamer north to prison and were registered at San Quentin on the 27th, with Welsh as prisoner 612, Flores as 613 and Gonzales as 614.  Welsh, whose occupation was given as a clerk (perhaps Owensby was his employer?) was 32, stood 5'9 1/4" and had a light complexion gray eyes and light (blond?) hair.  He was balding with a scar on his forehead and a number of tattoos, including one of a woman and a star on his right arm, a "savior and cross" on his left, along with "American arm below on left arm."

Gonzales was 27 years old, listed as a laborer, and was 5'7 3/4 " tall.  He had a dark complexion, hazel eyes and dark hair.  He had scars on both hands and a crescent-shaped on one his forehead, as well as a pair of moles on one cheek.  As for Flores, who was just 19 years old and also shown as a laborer, he was 5'9 3/4" tall and had the same skin, hair and eye color as his compatriot, Gonzales.  Flores had scars on his right eye brow and forehead.

Welsh did not serve his full term at San Quentin.  Governor J. Neely Johnson, elected as a candidate of the American Party, or Know-Nothings, who rode a brief wave of populism focused significantly on anti-foreign sentiment, pardoned the convict on 13 February 1857, 22 months into Welsh's term.  No details have been located about the reasons for the release, but typically the governor reviewed petitions offered from persons in the county where the crime and trial occurred.  Usually, friends, family, community leaders and even legal officials, such as a district attorney, presented reasons for the pardon, often based on prior conduct, extenuating circumstances with the case, undue excitement in the community that might lead to pressure for convictions, and the conduct of the prisoner at San Quentin.

The San Quentin state prison register listings for prisoners 612-614, being Edward J. Welsh, Juan Gonzales, and Juan Flores, 27 April 1855.  Welsh was pardoned by Governor J. Neely Johnson less than two years later, while Flores and  Gonzales escaped in October 1856.  Flores formed a gang that committed the heinous murders of several people, including Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton and a small posse, in early 1857.  Flores was then lynched after being captured trying to flee the area.  Gonzales, whose whereabouts after escaping are not known, was recaptured and returned to San Quentin in July 1857, as noted on the register.  Click on the image to see it in an expanded view in a separate window.
As for Flores and Gonzales, they, too, had an early release--just not an official one.  San Quentin was operated by private contract and its lessee in 1856 was J.M. Estell, whose management of the prison was, at best, questionable.  One frequent use of prisoners was a very liberal application of the "trusty" system, in which convicts were allowed off site to do work for the prison or for locals who made arrangements with Estell and his staff for convict labor.

When the legislature in early 1857 convened hearings into Estell's (mis)management of San Quentin, they heard testimony from guard captain George W. Wells about frequent escapes, involving dozens of prisoners.  In one instance, Wells testified that
Francisco Abano, Jose Somerano [Zamorano], Ramon Miramontez [Miramontes], Juan Gonzalis [Gonzales] and Juan Flores escaped by overpowering and disarming the guard on a scow going for red wood to burn kiln [for prison purposes].  Fred. W. Russell was the only guard on the scow; the scow was near the mouth of a creek; they landed and escaped.  Baldwin, one of the guards, had previously landed.  They were lock-up prisoners.
This was 8 October 1856.  Within a short time, Flores made his way down to Los Angeles and joined forces with Francisco "Pancho" Daniel, Andres Fontes (an "Andrew Fontes" escaped in 1856 with Wells stating "[I] think he stowed away in an unburnt kiln" near the prison) and others.

Known as the Flores-Daniel Gang, the group committed robberies and the murder of a San Juan Capistrano merchant before slaughtering Los Angeles County sheriff James R. Barton and an undermanned posse in present-day Irvine.  The vengeful aftermath has been recounted here in significant detail and a new article by this blogger on the topic has just been published in Orange Countiana, the annual publication of the Orange County Historical Society.

For more on the article, the publication and the Society, click here.

Gonzales, apparently, went his own way after breaking out of confinement with Flores, as he did not show up in a list of gang members published in the Los Angeles Star on 7 February 1857.  Notably, when Flores was captured by a posse watching Simi Pass northwest of Los Angeles, he gave the name "Juan Gonzales Sánchez" to his captors, though the ruse was quickly seen through.

Whatever Gonzales did with himself in the months following his escape, he was captured and returned, with the San Quentin register entry reading "brot [sic] back July 24/57."  It is not known whether he served his original three-year sentence and was released or given additional time because of his escape.

The rash of prison breaks under Estell's tenure led to an interesting statement by Alexander Bell, a member of the San Quentin Board of Directors.  In a statement forwarded to the legislature during its hearings, Bell wrote
You, gentlemen, no doubt recollect the geographical position of the southern counties, particularly San Diego, Los Angeles and San Bernardino.  Exposed as they have been, not only to the ravages of a horde of robbers, thieves and murderers, who have been headed by escaped convicts, but the peculiar locality has invited all renegades; and to add to this is the misfortune of having had no rain for nearly twelve months past, Los Angeles and San Diego counties have been made the receptacle of two thirds of the villains who had left the Northern portion of the State, and as my home has been in the lower country [italics added], I desire in the discharge of my duties to particularly direct your attention to this matter.
Bell's mention of having lived in southern California is interesting because he might be the Alexander Bell, who came to Los Angeles in 1836 and was a prominent merchant for many years and whose nephew, Horace, has been covered extensively in this blog.  In any case, Bell's statement is notable for its reference to a common complaint uttered by "settled" Angelenos--that a great deal of the crime committed in Los Angeles was by "outsiders" such as the Flores-Daniel Gang that he clearly references.

Estell's contract was soon terminated and management of San Quentin handled directly by the state, as it has been ever since.  Convict escapes definitely lessened, although conditions in the prison, which were notorious may have improved only somewhat.

Check back here soon for more stories involving Los Angeles County convicts at San Quentin!

Saturday, September 3, 2016

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors and Criminal Justice, 1855

In 1854-55, the third full year of the operations of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors, there was some reference early in the new year to the drama surrounding two murderers arrested in the fall of 1854 and then tried and convicted for their crimes.

These were Felipe Alvitre, who ambushed and killed James Ellington on what is now Valley Boulevard in El Monte, and David Brown, a short-term constable earlier in the decade, and who murdered Pinckney Clifford in a Los Angeles livery stable.  In addition, an El Monte dispute involved William B. Lee killing Frederick Leatherman and he, too, was convicted of the crime.

Lee and Brown were able to successfully appeal their death sentence and District Court Judge Benjamin Hayes, who tried all three cases, wrote in his diary that Alvitre's appear was delayed getting to the state supreme court.  So, when Alvitre was taken out for his legal execution in the jail yard and Lee trembled in his boots, a howling crowd stormed the jail, pulled Brown from his cell, sparing Lee, and hung him from the same gallows used for Alvitre.

Although the supervisors' minutes make no direct reference and, in fact, there is a gap of four months from the week just prior to the execution and lynching to early May, there are some notations about the cases.

At the 2 January meeting, for example, a bill was submitted from an unknown person who went hunting for Henry Hancock, best known for his surveying of regional ranchos for land claims cases, and who was a witness in the William B. Lee case, the dispute being over property boundaries.  William G. Dryden, a justice of the peace and later county judge from 1856-1869, submitted a bill for his role in Alvitre's defense, though this was disallowed for unspecified reasons by the board.

On the 3rd and the 6th, there were bills from jailor Francis J. Carpenter and Thomas Gordon for guarding the facility, though whether this was over concern for the safety of Alvitre, Brown and Lee is not stated.  On the latter date, there was a discussion amongst board members about paying the jurors their fees in the Lee case because the bill presented did not state whether Lee was convicted or acquitted.  Notably, the fee charged by County Clerk John W. Shore for writing up the transcripts and record of action in that matter totaled nearly $300, indicating how much work he had to do to document what took place in the case.

There were other matters including a report from District Attorney Cameron E. Thom that the title to the Rocha Adobe, which included the court house and city and county offices, was "vitally defective," though how was not indicated.  Thom was authorized by the board to take steps to quiet title and to let the City of Los Angeles know where the situation stood.

Then, there were the continuing large expenses involved in criminal justice administration.  For example, on 3 January, Sheriff Barton and jailor Carpenter submitted bills for their fees and expenses totaling over $1800 and Shore had hefty bills to present, as well.  The next day, P.C. Williams asked for payment of about $800 for repairs to the room of the District Court in the Rocha Adpbe.  As noted in recent posts, the financial picture was often precarious for the city and county in this period because of low revenues and major expenses in the administration of justice.

This article from the Southern Californian on 11 January 1855 discusses the recent meetings of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors, including the fact that the board "audited and passed some $9000 of accounts, refusing some $2,000 or moe, which appeared to have been uncalled for and illegal."  While praising the board for its economizing, the paper also questioned decisions to disallow bills that could still be collected on a court order, racking up additional expenses.  The paper then complained about the refusal of the supervisors to allow one of its bills, while granting a similar one for much more money from its rival, the Star.
It is not clear why the minutes suddenly stopped on 6 January and did not resume until 8 May.  It is possible that, in the tumult surrounding the Alvitre/Brown affair, the board decided to postpone meetings for a time, but it seems inconceivable that there would be a cessation of record for that long. But, when the board met on 8 May, Williams submitted a bill for repair of the gallows and for the furnishing of a coffin, on order of Barton, for Alvitre.

Moreover, something of a backlog, suggesting meetings postponed for a lengthy period, are indicated by the submission of bills by Carpenter for $3000 at that meeting, on top of Thom's district attorney bill for $900 and about $600 requests by Barton.

The 8 May meeting also included a bill sent it by an unknown party or parties for the arrest at San Juan Capistrano for Jose Buenavida, Juan Gonzales, and Juan Flores.  The latter two were tried on 14 April at the Court of Sessions for grand larceny in the theft of three horses from teamster Garnett Hardy and were sent up to San Quentin.  In October 1856, the two escaped and Flores returned to San Juan Capistrano to wreak more havoc.  In early 1857, Flores, his co-captain Pancho Daniel and about a dozen other men ambushed Barton and a small posse searching for the gang, setting of a massive manhunt and series of executions that have been discussed here previously.

The next two days featured additional meetings, which may be indications of the long delay in gatherings of the board.  More bills were presented from William B. Osburn as both justice of the peace and jail physician, by a constable named Henry E. Lewis, from jailor Carpenter and from then-constable Alfred Shelby, who became marshal later in the year and, as noted here before, fled for Mexico when he killed a man while on duty and jumped bail before his trial.  There were orders to repair the jail, as well.

As stated here previously, payments to officials were sometimes down on scrip or warrants, which guaranteed future actual outlays for approved expenses.  On the 10th, with respect to Carpenter, the board authorized the county auditor "to indemnify him in accordance with an agreement with the Board, for the Discount that he has to pay on the account of Warrant No. 23—in order to make said warrant equivalent to cash, payable out of funds for current expenses,"  

Similarly, in July the board approved a warrant of $163.68 to Carpenter "to reimburse him for the discount on scrip issued to him . . . in order to make the same equivalent to cash."  This gives an indication of how expenses were met under the tenuous financial circumstances the county perpetually faced.

At the September election, there was a notable referendum presented to the voters of the couty, which was whether liquor should be abolished in Los Angeles County.  There were undoubtedly many reasons why temperance-minded sponsors would bring this to their fellow citizens and one might well have been the concern about the role of alcohol in the high rates of crime experienced in the region.  Yet, the vote was 606-75 against the imposition of such a law--this was about a resounding a defeat as could be imagined!

Notably, James R. Barton decided not to run for reelection as sheriff, after three years in the dangerous office, but did try for another term as supervisor, but he finished sixth, just missing out on a seat.  The new sheriff was former supervisor and board president, David W. Alexander, who edged out a victory over Deputy Sheriff George W. Work 

Other interesting result was in the race of justice of the peace in San Gabriel, where disgraced former Los Angeles marshal Alviron S. Beard was edged by ten votes, losing to future county sheriff James F. Burns (who was in office during the notorious Chinese Massacre of fall 1871). In early 1856, Beard was arrested and charged with allowing gambling at his home, but the indictment was set aside and the case dismissed.

The latter part of the year featured more news about the poor condition of the Rocha Adobe and the court house room, specifically the need to repair the roof, likely brought up before expected winter rains.

At the 7 November meeting, the problem of meeting jail expenses again came up when Carpenter submitted bills totaling nearly $2500, more than half of which was for prisoner maintenance.  The board resolved "to make his compensation equivalent to cash, as per previous special contract with the Board of Supervisors."  The jailor then appeared before the board to appeal this and it was declared that the contract was voided and that his payment "not be equivalent to cash" except for the portion related to prisoner maintenance.

Carpenter then appeared ten days later to request ventilation for his apartment at the jail, because he had his family living there with him and he claimed that they were ill, submitting a certificate fron Dr. John S. Griffin acknowledging this to be the case.  The board's building committee was asked to promptly address the matter.

With that, we'll continue the next post with the work of the board in 1856.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Six: The Lynching of Juan Flores

On 14 February 1857, the same day that the two weekly newspapers of Los Angeles, the English-language Star and the Spanish-language El Clamor Público were issued, the fate of Juan Flores, determined to be one of the two leaders of the gang of men which killed Sheriff James R. Barton and three members of his posse hunting for the bandits just under a month before, was decided.

As noted here previously, Flores and two of his compatriots, Jesús Espinosa and Leonardo López (a.k.a. Tiburcio Tapia) were able to escape capture by a posse in the Santa Ana Mountains of today's eastern Orange County, through spectacular maneuvers down steep slopes in the range.  They then split up, with Espinosa captured at Ventura and lynched there, after making his confession (also described in this blog), while Lopez vanished.  The other bandit leader, Pancho Daniel, who was wounded in the Barton massacre, also made his escape.

Flores, however, was detained on 3 February while trying to slip through Simi Pass, after five days of rapid riding in what appears to have been a route along the San Gabriel Mountain foothills and through the upper San Fernando Valley.  He remained confined in jail from the 5th, along with at least some of the more than fifty others who were arrested during the house-to-house search of a portion of Los Angeles, for a liitle over a week.

But, on the 14th, as reported in the following week's edition from the 21st of the Star, "the people of this city, and a large number from the principal towns of the county, assembled together for the purpose of what should be done with Flores, and the other prisoners in jail."  The paper did not provide any detail of the meeting other than to say that, "after a good deal of talking, a vote was taken, and it was resolved, without a dissenting voice, that Flores should be executed forthwith."

The other prisoners were left to the authorities, evidently because they had been confined "only [for] attempts at murder, burglaries, and horsestealing."  Curiously, the Star went on to state that "we had intended to make some remarks how this decision was secured—to notice the inference justly deducible therefore—but we have had so much of this of late, that we have no disposition to return to the subject."

El Clamor Público, however, did report that each of the other inmates were questioned at length, particularly about whether "they had committed an offense for which they were punished."  Jonathan R. Scott, an attorney and former justice of the peace, who was presiding over the gathering called for their remanding to the processes of the law.

While there were some who spoke about the alleged guilt of at least some of the confined men, a vote was taken of over 650 present.  It was stated that nearly 400 of them voted for leaving the prisoners to the operations of the criminal justice system and one source stated that the majority of these were not Americans.  That is, of the 250-plus who signaled a desire for more extralegal hanging, the plurality were Americans.  El Clamor did state, though, that "the larger majority of thoughful persons rejected using violence."

Article on the lynching of Juan Flores, Los Angeles Star, 21 February 1857.
With the quick determination out of the way, "the people marched to the jail, and took possesion of Flores."  The bandit leader "had been expecting this visit" and he was taken out to the gallows "by Capt. Twist's company" and followed by the French and Californio militias, along with a large group of residents.

As the procession made it way to the hill where so many lynchings took place, the Star reported that Flores "walked with firmness, and seemed as composed as anyone in the crowd."  Interestingly, the paper made note of his "pleasing countenance" and observed that "there was nothing in his appearance to indicate the formidable bandit which he had proved himself to be."  His days on the run, his haggard state when captured, and the nine days in jail probably had a good deal to do with that.

Also of note was that, once everyone arrived at the gallows, Flores was accompanied by the two priests from the Plaza Church and "the armed men forming a hollow square, supported by the cavalry in the rear."  With his arms bound securely, Flores "firmly ascended the drop" and "he expresed a wish to address the people."  These were interpreted for English speakers and he stated "that he had committed many crimes—that he died without having ill-will against any man" and wished the same in return."  After noting twice that he was prepared or death, Flores left instructions to some in the crowd regarding the disposition of his remains.

He handed over a white kerchief to have his face covereed, after which his legs were restrained and the rope, reportedly a reata taken from one of those killed in the Barton massacre,  placed and adjusted around his neck, during which Flores calmly remained in conversation with those nearby.  As soon as others left the scaffold "immediately after the plank was drawn from under him, and the body of Flores swung in the air."

As soon as Flores was dropped, however, it quickly became obvious that the distance of the drop was "too short, and the unfortunate wretch struggled in agony for a considerable time."  This means that there was not enough distance for Flores to fall from the gallows so that the his weight would cause massive asphyxiation or the breaking of his neck.  Consequently, "in his last, despairing efforts, the rope around his arms slipped above his elbows and he grasped the rop by which he was suspended."

Amidst this chaos, officials had to rush over to do something and "it required considerable effort to release his hold."  Even still, Flores continued flailing in what one observer described as aking to being "hung very much like a dog."  The Star observed that "after a protracted struggle, very painful to behold, the limbs became quiet, and finally stiff in death.  Thus ended the brief but stormy life of the bandit captain, Juan Flores."  The body was left hanging for another hour before it was cut down.  There seems little question that Flores' lynching was undertaken without the slightest concern for what can only be termed, if clincially, as "efficiency."  The use of the reata and the insufficient length of the drop were, beyond the method itself, perhaps willfully.  As much of a criminal as Flores was, shooting by firing squad would have been more humane.

In the jail, the paper continued, the two men who were subjected to a vote of the mob about their fate had, it was reported, still prepared themselves for death "whether from a consciousness of guilt, or a dread of popular fury, we leave to the inference of the reader," opined the Star.  One of them got dressed as if ready for a lynching, while the other had his clothing organized and ready.  But, the paper continued, "the people, more benignant than the malefactors had dared to hope, spared their lives, and they still remain in prison."  El Clamor Público reported that there were still eleven men in jail (some forty, it appears, having been released in preceding days) awaiting their appearance in court.

Notably, El Clamor reported that there was an attempt the evening after Flores's lynching by some citizens to persuade the jailer, Francis Carpenter, to allow them access to the remaining prisoners, presumably so they could exact more executions—"such is the nature of personal revenge," as it was put.  But, the paper went on, Carpenter stood fast and refused to entertain any requests by these individuals.  For this, he was lauded, as it was stated "we allude to this circumstance because we cannot lose any opportunity to commemorate facts of fidelity and humanity among those in public positions."  Moreover, said El Clamor, "by pure compasion, we do not mention the names of those who withdrew, ashamed, in view of the firmness of this noble jailer."

While the Star once more demonstrated support for "the people" and the use of popular justice in lynching Flores, the horrific nature of the botched methods used in the hanging did seem to have an effect, though this was somewhat muted.  On the other hand, El Clamor, previously supportive of using extralegal means to deal with the Flores-Daniel gang, made a very concerted and direct about-face in its views.

"Americans!  Californios!" El Clamor Público, 21 February 1857.
Typically, Francisco P. Ramirez used his elegant prose and idealistic sentiments to not only criticize the concept of lynching, but to discuss the larger issue of community.  For example, in an editorial titled "Americans !  Californians!" he asked, "Do we not all belong to the same republic?  Do we not all have the same equal rights and protection of the laws?"  He went on to inquire, "if the past has caused innumerable wrongs amongst us, when would be a better time than now to have a perfect agreement of faith?" when it came to the observance of law.  He asked "which is the real nature of the illness that our society and politics suffers?  Is it an incurable cancer, or a tumor that can be cured with the aid of science?" meaning, presumably, the science of government and law.

Calling for "an honest and candid discussion" among the Picos, Olveras, Dominguezes and other prominent Californios, Ramirez looked for "measures that find ways to promote the common welfare" and which would "unite the two or more races (in a manner of speaking) that form the body of our population."  He went on to sugges that, "if the Californios have not complied with their duty . . . we expect that their lacks be declared clearly, so that they are remedied, and all the fears, and threats (if such exist) can disappear and be forgotten."  Again calling for the respecting of the laws and their "firm administratoin characterized by equality and purity," Ramirez concluded by noting that "thus alone, in our humble opinion, can we advance with the prosperity of a free town."

"Thoughts on the Past," El Clamor Público, 21 February 1857.
In a separate editorial, "Thoughts on Past Events," Ramirez wrote that, "the majority of the town generally avoids committing gross excesses" and that "a notable test of this truth was presented last Saturday," presumably referring to the mass meeting vote about the fate of the eleven men jailed with Flores.  He went on, though, to write, "nevertheless, we have been sufficiently correct to distrust the few when . . . [using] the internal fire of their own exaltation while they have the opportunity to gratify their passions without limit."  These individuals "can ignore the motives and counsels of the majority of the town, and very falsely interpret the feeling and general will."

For those disposed to act extralegally, Ramirez continued, "if they are not counteracted by fear of public execration or some other worse result, they could use their efforts to carry out so much of their malice until they employ 'fire and sword.'"  It was, however, "in times of revolution or some public calamity or the great exaltation of spirit, that the worst men are the first to come out from the shadows" and fall prey to anger and revenge.  Ramirez referred to the unnamed men found murdered near Los Nietos and then made allusion to "respectable people who took the initiative," citing Andres Pico's lynching of Ardillero and Silvas and "also the brave but discreet gentlemen sent to Ventura," that is Coopwood and his small posse, where Espinosa and Berryesa were hung.

In these references, Ramirez seemed to be equally criticizing Pico and Coopwood, who were more or less public in their vigilante activity, with the unknown parties at Los Nietos.  He also made allusion to the decisions of a few regarding the lives of alleged or real criminals, noting "we desire that the voice and the vote of all the town be heard before a man is condemned to suffer the final penalty."  He also rhetorically inquired, "Who will be able to reckon the value of the life of a human being?"

More provocatively, Ramirez continued: "Think on this, fellow citizens.  If an American were taken in hung in San Jose or Santa Ana, or in San Juan, where the population is composed entirely of Californios; would this not be the cause of a general uprising?" Once again, he went back to assert that "we are obliged to ask for an explanation of the deaths at Los Nietos."

Looking back to earlier events, Ramirez noted that "when the voice of the majority of the town is heard patiently, it seems that there is something similar to the administration of justice," though he did note that these instances sometimes smacked of stating that "the voice of the town is the voice of God!"  The matter of the late 1852 lynching of Doroteo Zavaleta and Jesús Rivas, that of David Brown in early 1855, and the 1851 (Ramirez stated 1850) slaughter of the Irving Gang by Cahuilla Indians were brought up in this connection.  In this latter, Ramirez observed that "a respectable Coroner's jury pronounced the facts as justified," even the slaughter of white bandits by Indians.  He also claimed "in these events the great majority of the town gave its decision of approval" and "thus has it been with the execution of the bandits of San Juan Capistrano."

However, he went on, "will it no longer be that order will be established and that there be the peaceful administration of laws in this county?" and he once again called for support for the law and the peace officers of the county.

"Thoughts on the Future," El Clamor Público, 21 February 1857.
Not to be content with this, Ramirez issued a third editorial on that day, called "Thoughts on the Future."  He started by stating that, "the past should be recalled as a guide to the future" and that "we need to mae an effort to remove some of the wrongs that we have witnessed."  Claiming that "the Californios are the ones that have suffered most by the thieves," Ramirez mused on the fact that, for the most part, the reaction to the murders of Barton and his posse were "harmonious," but he also pointed out "the excesses that are too apparent."  Employing a metaphor of a fire lit in the heart of the town that could mean that "the useful tree is consumed along with the ivy," Ramirez noted that, while "without a doubt a salutary terror has been felt by the criminals," there was a concern that "we do not expect in vain that all the seeds of crime have perished."

Another metaphor followed.  Sowing the region "with the fruitful grain of universal education, and to water it with the perennial sources of religion" would mean that "all the harmful plants would disappear forever."  Still, he went on, "nevertheless we know very well, by the experience of the whole world, that the lowest passions often destroy those that are the most powerful barriers opposed to violence."  With this in mind, Ramirez continued, "for this reason we cannot be so simple and candid to suppopse that the community has been regenerated, only because we have seen the spectale of military executions, in times of peace, and in a country that should be governed by laws and civil judges."

Noting that, "there still remains a lot to do," Ramirez entreated his fellow Spanish-speakers: "Californios, we entreat you to pledge more for the education of your beloved children in their tender age, and with the lessons of divine and human wisdom."  Should this not be the case, the situation would only be "dark and sadder in proportion that we abandon and ignore this."  Looking at the ages of Flores, Juan Catabo, and Espinosa, Ramirez stated "it is painful that the great majority of the criminals in our courts are comparatively young" and that many are not even twenty before "the flowers of virtue have dried in the heart."

Ramirez pointed to a recent example oin which three teenagers barely sixteen years old were involved "in cards, in wine, in libertinage, and are hardnening to the last degree of shame!"  He cited the examples of Zavaleta, Rivas, Felipe Alvitre (hung legally before Brown was lynched), Ygnacio Herrera, the sole legal execution in the county when he was hung in 1854, and Flores and noted that their ill-gotten gains "were lost on playing tables a moment after the robberies took place" and set an example for some of the youth in the community:  "We will say it with frankess: you youths are too much inclined to blindly imitate the bad dealings of others . . . be careful of those despicabvle vices.  Surely they will carry you to your ruin.  You are surrounded by greater dangers and have more temptations, right now, then your parents when they were young.

Notably, Ramirez pointed to recently Gold Rush wealth, observing that "it should be feared that the wealth some have obained, since many of you have been born, has left you a custom of idleness" and then asked "California was happier when all were poor—is that not so?"  He counseled younger people to "ask the old settlers.  Wealth is the mother of pride, extravagance and the aversion of work; the final abandonment and loss of fine customs.  Idleness is the origin of crime in the town."

For Ramirez, "a kind Providence has given us a rich land, a delicious climate, and all the resources to achieve an honest life.  All should be employed in what is useful for them and their family."  It was far better to "sow corn, what, and et cetera—do anything that will have you useful and busy, instead of passing the time in those detestable bars and gambling houses."  In this idealistic and lyrical vein, he continued that "wealth is not the greatest happiness to which we can aspire.  Often it is a curse and a misfortune.  A good character in humble poverty is worth more than the gold of California had with a bad reputation."

Concluding, Ramirez said "if we direct these words to you it is not because they would not be able to applied to others.  Crime is found everywhere, and is produced by the same causes.  We should not forget that, in every age and nation, religious is the soul of virtue, education conducts us to wisdom, and industry carries itself with honor."  Those three elements "remain as the solid base of private and public happiness."

Saturday, January 30, 2016

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.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

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.

Sunday, January 24, 2016

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.