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

The fifth Los Angeles County resident sent up "to the big house" at San Quentin State Prison was Atanacio Moreno, who arrived at the facility on 10 April 1854, and whose story was told here in an April post.

Moreno was followed by an Indian named Juan Chapo, who was delivered to San Quentin on 4 August.  Juan Chapo was tried before the District Court on a charge of manslaughter because, as recorded in the diary of that court's jurist, Benjamin Hayes, he was "indicated for killing an Indian woman.  He was in a deep state of intoxication at the time.  It occurred at Mr. Jno Roland's."

This was the ranch of John Rowland, owner of some 24,000 acres comprising half of the massive Rancho La Puente in the eastern San Gabriel Valley.  Rowland had a large population of Gabrieleño Indians working for him and Juan Chapo was undoubtedly one of the ranch's laborers.

The register listing for prisoner #414 at San Quentin State Prison, Juan Chapo, a Gabrieleño Indian who pled guilty to killing Anselma, an Indian woman, during a drunken state and sentenced to one year and a $1 fine based on "an excellent character."  Click on the images to see them enlarged in separate windows.

Hayes did not provide any further information concerning the circumstances of the killing of the woman, named as Anselma in court documents, but he did note that "an excellent characer [was] proved for him."  Consequently, Hayes went on, "the Court sentenced him to one year in the state prison" after Juan Chapo pled guilty.  Strangely, Hayes also pronounced a fine of $1.

It is also notable that, in the San Quentin register, there is no occupation listed nor are there the physical descriptions of heights, complextion, and color of eyes and hair usually given.  The only other notation was that Juan Chapo was discharged a couple of weeks early on 22 July 1855 and then faded from history.

The other prisoner confined at San Quentin around this time was a notable character in Los Angeles:  José Serbulo Varela.  Varela was from an old, established family in town, dating back to its early Spanish-era period.  During the Mexican-American War, he served in the Californio forces defending the town and region against the American invasion.

In 1846, when a cadre of Americans, who gathered for mutual protection at the Rancho Santa Ana del Chino's adobe home of its owner Isaac Williams, on what is now the grounds of Boys Republic, a troubled youth facility in Chino Hills, were captured, there was a serious consideration of executing the group.  This included the John Rowland mentioned above, as well as prominent Angeleno Benjamin D. Wilson, namesake of Mount Wilson, and others.

Varela, however, refused to consider the idea and told his fellow Californios that they would have to kill him before trying to take out revenge against the American prisoners, who were held for a substantial period before finally being released.  From that point forward, Varela, it was said, was held in the highest esteem by Americans, to the point that, whenever he fell afoul of the law, which was often, he was invariably bailed out and released.

Jose Serbulo Varela, a hero to many Anglos for his defense of Americans captured at the Battle of Chino and threatened with summary execution in 1846 during the Mexican-American War, was convicted of perjury and sentenced to a year at San Quentin, registering as prisoner #400.  Varela was found murdered in an irrigation ditch in 1860.

Charged for petty larceny and perjury in a crime against Santiago Feliz, of the family which owned the Los Feliz Rancho northwest of downtown Los Angeles, Varela was acquitted of the larceny charge, but convicted of perjury, evidently in his sworn statement of what took place in the matter with Feliz.

On 16 June 1854, he was sentenced to a year at San Quentin and registered ten days later as prisoner #400.  The 5'5 1/2" Varela, listed as 41 years of age and with dark complexion, hair and eyes and with the occupation as a laborer, served out his term and was discharged, presumably on or just before 26 June 1855.

Varela, who was said to be a drunkard, continued to attract trouble, but was always put out on his liberty because of his conduct at Chino, until his luck ran out in September 1860, when he was stabbed to death and his body found in the zanja madre (the mother ditch used for irrigation in town) at Los Angeles.

The Los Angeles Common Council and Criminal Justice, 1859

The last year of the tumultuous and turmoil-filled 1850s began with another nod to straitened financial circumstances in the post-Gold Rush economic environment, when, at its 17 January 1859 meeting, the Los Angeles Common [City] Council's finance committee reported that the contract it renegotiated with the city jailor, Joseph Smith, was "the best contract that could be made under the circumstances."  With this far-from-enthusiastic recommendation, the council went ahead and approved the deal, the details of which were not recorded.

At the same meeting, former council member and businessman/rancher Jonathan Temple petitioned to meet with the council concerning "public buildings" he was contemplating building.  Coucil members Stephen C. Foster, John S. Griffin, and David M. Porter were appointed to a committee to consult with Temple on his intentions.

On the 25th, the committee issued its report, stating the Temple "solely or in connectio with others," proposed to build structures that could be rented to the city at 1 1/4% of the cost of the building and the stated $5,000 value of the land as monthly rent for ten years, with the city having the opttion to buy the structure at the end of that period or before at cost.

The proposed building, designed by local builder W.H. Dearien and located between Main and Spring streets and Temple and 1st was to be exempt from taxation and kept in good repair by the city.  The committee recommended that Temple's terms be accepted and that the structure be specifically for butchers and green grocers.  It also recommended that total payments to Temple over the ten years not exceed $25,000, though this was increased to $30,000 by the council, which approved the idea, but stipulated that the structure had to be two stories, not one (after all, Los Angeles was ready to move a little higher skyward than usual!)

This circa 1870 stereoscopic photograph shows Jonathan Temple's Market House, with its landmark cupola and clock tower.  Completed in 1859, the structure was mainly a commercial building, but had quarters for city hall, and, on the second floor, the first true theater built in Los Angeles.  The worsening economy, though, led to changes in its use quickly.  From the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum collection.

On 21 February, a contract between Temple and the city was presented and approved, followed by an extraordinary (special) meeting two nights later, held to draft an ordinance concerning the proposal for what was then being called the "Market House and City Hall."  Dearien's design, in fact, was evidently modeled on that of Boston's landmark Faneuil Hall, reflected by Temple's upbringing in nearby Reading, Massachusetts.

In early May, Temple petitioned the council to allow him to add, at a cost of $1,500, a cupola and clock that would surmount the structure--this feature eventually became a major focal point of the building.  The issue evidently was put aside, because it was resubmitted in June.  A month later, a special meeting was held to devise a system for renting "stalls" or small stores in the building.

Not coincidentally, perhaps, Temple then petitioned the council for the creation of a new street to be named for him, which would extend west from what was then the intersection of Main and Spring.   This bordered the northern tip of what would be called the Temple Block, with the proposed Market House at the southern section.

This 30 July 1859 article in the Los Angeles Star describes the nearly-complete Market House of Jonathan Temple.

After Temple was able to buy land from the heirs of Antonio Valdez as well as from Francis Mellus to make way for the street, the council gave its approval.  Temple Street was only one block in its early incarnation, but it seems obvious that Temple felt future growth would move up into the hills to the west of town.  Unfortunately for him and others, that move would be great delayed by the economic doldrums that worsened in the first half of the Sixties.

Meanwhile work continued on the Market House and, by late September, the special committee assigned to monitor its progress, reported that the building should not be received by the city until it was determined to meet all contract specifications.  In fact, an ordinance was approved concerning renting stalls for three months, with a nine-month extension, and bills were to be posted about these terms because the structure was due to be open by the first of October.

A special meeting on the 30th was held for examination of the finished building, the renting of stalls and other related business and the council requested Temple and Francis Mellus to issue a two-year warranty on the mastic roof that Mellus's business put on the structure.  The vote to accept the building was not, however, unanimous as members Wallace Woodworth and Ezra Drown voted no, though their reasons were not given.  By then, however, a crime spree, including homicides, rocked the town (yet again) and there was some criticism of the time spent by the council on the Market House, rather than the rise in violence.

The 29 October 1859 issue of the Star featured this scathing letter decrying the Los Angeles Common Council's undue concern for the Market House, while murders were taking place in and near the town.

While, as stated before, most of the building was for commercial markets with a city-appointed "market master" to handle management, city hall was moved into the building and the mayor, Damien Marchessault, was empowered to rent the city hall portion for public uses as he saw fit--this was clearly a way to bring income to help pay for expense of renting the city's portion of the building.

There was some pushback from the city's merchants, though, about the conditions imposed by ordinance about green grocers and butchers being limited to using the Market House, so the council agreed to allow game, poultry and vegetable to be sold anywhere in the city between 9 a.m. and 4 p.m. from 15 September to 15 March--an interesting compromise that included sales at the Market House to be carried out on the Sabbath.  Later, some citizens requested permission from the council to build another market house "north of Old High Street" in what was the Sonoratown area north of the Plaza, though nothing came of the request.

Meanwhile, council member and special committee member Griffin petitioned and was given permission to be allowed to rent the second floor "for the purose of lecturing and other entertainments."  This led to the creation of what was called the Temple Theater, the first true theater, though short-lived, built in Los Angeles.

Now, what this has to do with criminal justice will soon be seen in the next post or two concerning the fate of the Market House for that purpose.

As for other matters before the council concerning criminal justice, 1859 saw the first references to the hiring of special police officers, when, early in the year, Mayor John G. Nichols appointed four men to serve as a night watch.  Moreover, these men were partially paid by citizen subscriptions, though it was pointed out that, given the city's precarious financial condition, more funds would be needed.  Consequently, council members Foster, Griffin and Cristobal Aguilar were appointed to review how to continue with employing the special officers.

Also from the 29 October 1859 edition of the Star is this piece about the need for a city police force to deal with "the numerous outrages which have lately disgraced our city."

By mid-April, however, the quartet, who were paid $70 per month had to be let go after three months because the Common Fund couldn't sustain more work for them and they were discharged.  Early in December, a citizen petition to the council asked for the specific appointment of William McLoughlin as a city policeman for the area at Los Angeles and Commercial streets.  This was referred to the police committee, which recommended an ordinance giving the mayor, now Damien Marchessault, the power to appoint additional officers when necesary "particularly in certain localities, when the citizens thereof are willing to defray the expenses."  That part of town was the home of some of the town's most successful merchants, like Harris Newmark and others, but there had also been a spate of crimes committed in town recently, as well.

In early May, the new council was seated and heard reports on city prisoners.  The mayor was requests to make any contract regarding prisoner maintenance that he saw fit and then to return the document for approval.  At the meeting of the 9th, the council "resolved, that the clerk call the attention of the City Marshal, to the Ordinance defining his duties."   Marshal Frank H. Alexander's negligence was not specifically identified, however.

Mayor Marchessault returned the following week to report on a temporary arrangement made with jailor Smith for prisoner maintenance and one specification was that "for all Indians after trial and who are not taken out of jail—the jailor to be allowed for their board thirty-seven and a half cents per day.  White person detained in like manner—he shall be allowed fifty cents per day for their board."  In December, though, on the suggestion of the marshal, the police committee suggested equalizing the amount, so that Indians also had their board set at 50 cents per day and this was approved at the meeting of the 26th.

There were also problems with others and the mayor requested an ordinance that would prohibit "idle and lewd persons from running and loitering about the streets of the City."  This was followed the next week by a police committee suggestion, in which its members "recommend that the Statute of the State be put in force against vagrants and other idle vicious persons, in lieu of an ordinance."  There was a law on the books in California concerning "vagabonds and other suspicious and dangerous persons" and there was a vagrancy provision in the town's 1855 ordinances, but there seems to have been a desire for something stronger.

The Spanish-language newspaper, El Clamor Público, listed newly elected city officials, including the mayor, Common Council members, and the marshal in its 21 May 1859 issue.  Thanks to Paul Bryan Gray for providing microfilmed copies of this newspaper.

Later in the year, at the end of September, a citizen petition appears to have provided an example of the perceived problem as the document concerned "two saloons on Main Street in front of the house of John G. Nichols [former mayor], where large numbers of idle persons assemble day and night, where money is lost and won, and continued disorderly conduct is observed."  This matter was referred to the police committee.

Financial problems were referenced when Marshal Alexander asked for an increase in salary at an October meeting and nothing came of it and when jailor Richard Mitchell repaired the jail and asked for reimbursement for the use of lime and whitewash, but the request was rejected for unstated reasons.  Mitchell then resigned and Francis J. Carpenter, a former jailor, became the marshal.

The 1850s ended with many of the same issues in play as at the beginning of the decade, whether this be financial uncertainty, issues regarding the treatment of Indians, problems with the city marshal, and what to do with disorderly conduct.  There was a hint of improvement with the movement of the city hall into a new modern brick building rather than the decaying adobe houses that served this function, albeit cheaply for the city's meager budget.  The 1860s would lead to some further changes to try and improve conditions for the city's criminal justice administration system in a variety of ways.

The Los Angeles Common Council and Criminal Justice, 1857

Considering how fateful 1857 was when it came to crime, violence and criminal justice in greater Los Angeles, mainly with the fearful drama that followed the brutal execution-style killings of Sheriff James Barton and three members of a posse he assembled to track down the Daniel-Flores gang which had terrorized San Juan Capistrano, then part of Los Angeles County, the minute books of the Los Angeles Common (City) Council are surprisingly devoid of material on these aspects.

In fact, other than the fact that the usual regular meetings of the council were postponed for about a month, between 20 January and 18 February, while the crisis was taking place, nothing was actually stated in the recor, other than that there a vague reference that business needed to be conducted because a quorum had been lacking for the gathering scheduled prior to the latter date.

Whatever was discussed tended to be focused on what to do with city prisoners and the notorious chain gang that operated on a vicious cycle that was tantamount to an institutionalized variant of slavery for Indians arrested on Saturday night, tried on Sunday and, unable to pay the sentence of a fine, were hired out for labor, either on the chain gang or to nearby ranchers and farmers.

Just prior to the awful slaughter of Sheriff Barton and his men, city marshal William C. Getman called for the council to determine "the propriety and necessity of the formation of a chain gang," which petition was directed to the special committee on the jail.

At an extraordinary (not regularly scheduled) council meeting in early March, a new ordinance was written for street cleaning, using "all Indians imprisoned or under sentence for a term according to ordinance."  A clarification was added that, "no Indian imprisoned for any offense agains the ordinances of the City shall be detained for more than twenty-four hours in which time he will be tried and sentenced, liberated, or given over to the contractor for cleaning the streets."

While this last sounded liberal and progressive, it could be read to mean that a rushed trial and the quick assignment of Indians to the chain gang was the goal.  Yet, in April a bill presented for expenses incurred in the maintenance of Indians at the jail was disallowed because of the ordinance "which declares that no Indians shall be detained at the City Jail, at the charge of the City."  This evidently was interpreted to signify that it was the county's problem, but the finance committee did recommend paying much of the bill "in consideration of extraordinary services."  It appears that the incarceration of Indians in the jail necessitated this recommendation.

At the same time, the city numerous purveyors of liquor petitioned the council for a reduction in the license to sell spirits.  This would have the double effect of allowing more liquor to be sold in the City of the Angels, but of reducing revenues needed to deal with the problem of intoxicated citizens through the town's criminal justice system.

In mid-April, there was some discussion about a citizen petition for "the rent of a room to be paid for by the Common Council, to serve as an Armory Hall, for a voluntary company called the 'Southern Rifles."  The rise of citizen militias, no doubt as a reaction to real or perceived inefficiencies with law enforcement, was a major question in greater Los Angeles during the 1850s and, in some ways, mirrored issues throughout the United States.

This 1857 lithograph by Kuchel and Dresel and published by Britton and Rey of San Francisco as part of a series of California views, is a rare and detailed though highly sanitized view of pre-Civil War Los Angeles.  It was issued four years before the first photograph of the town was taken and about fifteen years before images were commonly published in stereoscopic form.  

While militias were the reason for the second amendment to the federal constitution and it was presumed these citizen-staffed organization were essential for common defense, the reality turned out to be very different than theory.  It can be said that there were several citizen companies that mobilized in the aftermath of the Barton slayings and some did good work in tracking the bandits, reconnaissance, and other duties, while others did shoddy work, such as letting some bandit members escape during simple guard duty.

The Civil War later would reveal just how poorly organized and train citizen militias really were and writers have observed that these groups were more social clubs for drinking and fraternizing than for defense.  Much of the reason for the formation of the National Guard was to retool the concept of citizen militias into more reliable organizations.

In any case, the Council responded that it was "considering itself without the power to dispose of city funds for the support of any volunteer company."  The use of volunteer citizen companies did continue for some time after, however--mainly, as noted above, during the Civil War, when Los Angeles was a secessionist hotbed and militias of Southern sympathizers and of northern leaning citizens were formed.

Also, in April, the council returned to the question of how city prisoners were maintained and processed through sentencing and a draft ordinace was written, followed by a police committee suggestion that the word "Indian" in the street cleaning ordinance be replaced with "Person."  Again, this has the look of a forward-thinking recommendation, but it might also have been a way to mask reality with something official that looked non-discriminatory.  On 29 April, the council approved this change and sent it to the mayor for his signature.

This was just in time for a change in personnel after the spring election in early May.  Not long afterward, an acute problem with the town's finances was shown when Mayor John G. Nichols told the council that a prevailing agreement reached with the jailer, Eli M. Smith, that would pay Smith $50 a month for all prisoner board and services was in the breach because the jailer had not been paid in four months.

In June, Nichols returned to present to the council a new contract executed with Smith "for Board of City prisoners and other matters connected therewith, whereby the City will be in a  great measure relieved from expenses on account of her prisoners."  While the council promptly approved the new agreement, the terms were not specified--it is assumed that the county agreed to shoulder some of the financial burden for prisoner maintenance.

Research in the council minute books found nothing for the last half of 1857, so that all that can be given here is for the first six months of the year.  As a recurring problem, however, the management of the jail, particularly in the outlay of funds, was a major preoccupation for a small town with a lean budget based on low tax revenues.  The Gold Rush had ended, a national depression broke out in 1857, the local cattle economy was in a doldrums and fiscal issues were becoming tougher for city officials to handle.

The Los Angeles Common Council and Criminal Justice, 1852

Many of the same problems that concerned the Los Angeles Common [City] Council in its first two years continued into 1852, its third.  This included ongoing issues with public disturbances, the inadequacy of the city and county jail, the frequent turnover of city officials, and more.

One interesting development early in the year came at the 21 January meeting when council member Joseph Lancaster Brent presented a draft memorial, or resolution, that he wanted state senator Stephen C. Foster to take to Sacramento which would request the senate to take Los Angeles' existing boundaries, established in the Spanish era as four square leagues, or just under 18,000 acres, and expanding them.

On 4 April 1850, the first California legislature passed an act incorporating the city of Los Angeles and limited its jurisdiction to four square miles, but the common council claimed an area of authority of far more than this, embracing 111 square miles, in an ordinance passed in July 1851.  Meanwhile, the preceding April, the legislature amended its incorporation act to state that, while the city's rights were limited to what the 1850 statute mandated, there were some exceptions with respect to water, because, clearly, water sources needed for the city's use were outside the established boundaries.

Though not stated in the council records, the memorial drafted by Brent and presented to the board on 21 January 1852 requested an area of authority of nine square miles, more than double what the city currently embraced.  With Foster's sponsorship, the legislature did amend the incorporation act on 1 May so that the city's control resided throughout the area of the original limits under Spanish fiat, provided that a majority of electors within that area signed a petition presented to the County Court.  That court had to adhere to the statute governing the incorporation of cities in the state.  It was not, though, until 1855 that County Judge Kimball H. Dimmick ordered the city's boundaries set to the original pueblo standards and a new map drawn to reflect this.

In 1859, the legislature approved an act extending the city's boundaries to a maximum of 1500 yards on any side and that August the southern boundary was extended 400 yards southerly.  After that, there was no change until 1874 when the boundaries were enlarged by legislation to roughly 5 miles in every direction in the form of a rectangle that was longer north and south.

In the meantime, the federal act concerning California land grants issued under Spain and Mexico and passed on 3 March 1851, led the common council to request the city attorney, former council member Brent, to submit an application to the Board of Land Commissioners formed to hear claims for sixteen square leagues.  This area was large enough that Brent's application was written so that, should the sixteen square leagues, based on a radial line of two leagues from a cardinal point at the Old Plaza Church, extend to the Mission San Gabriel, the request would adjust the proposed limits in a westerly direction to make up for the affected amount of land!

On 26 October 1852, as the board held its only hearing in Los Angeles (the rest of the time it met in San Francisco), the application was submitted.  As was typical, a decision was not rendered until February 1856, when the board rejected the sixteen league claim, confirming the city's limits at the four square leagues created under Spain.  The city appealed to the federal district court, but this was rejected.

A detail of the 1858 Hancock survey of Los Angeles, from Maps and Surveys of the Pueblo Lands of Los Angeles by Neal Harlow,.

Consequently, Henry Hancock completed a survey in 1858 that reflected the land claims decision and a patent was finally issued by President Andrew Johnson in 1866.  However, the federal General Land Office determined the patent was invalid because the Hancock survey did not meet federal statutory standards for patents.  Another patent was then issued by President Grant in 1875.  In June 1876, the common council rejected the Grant patent, claiming the Johnson one was correct.  An 1878 lawsuit determined at the state supreme court confirmed that the 1866 patent was the valid one and it was recorded by the city clerk.  In subsequent decades, the City of Los Angeles grew dramatically, so that its area is the twelfth largest in the United States.

Another resolution soon followed the one about the city's area of authority and dealt with its lack of real power to deal with crime.  Brent and council member John O. Wheeler asked the council on 9 February to approve a resoltuion asking General Ethan A. Hitchcock, commander of the Army's Pacific Divsion, to trasnfer one or two companies of infancy "as near as possible to this City, for the purpose of helping, as occasion may arise, in the preservation of good order."  This was duly approved.

Notably, Brent was the recipient of an inadvertent assist from Army troops in April 1851 when he was the defense attorney for two Lugo brothers charged in the murder of two men and jailed. A gang of bandits arrived from northern California and hatched a scheme to extort money from the Lugo family by freeing the brothers from custody.

When the Lugos rejected the offer, the bandits threatened to abduct the brothers after a bail hearing.  Brent, according to his later accounting of the incident, tried to arrange a defense and was astonished when a squadron of troops happened to march into town just as the hearing was about to begin.  With the Army as support, the brothers were escorted to jail without incident.  If this incident is as Brent described, it might explain his request with Wheeler a year later.  More, by the way, on the Lugo case is to be presented on this blog very soon.

On 6 March, council secretary William G. Dryden informed the council that the approved memorial was sent to the general, but is not known if Hitchcock responded or if any troops were sent to Los Angeles.  A decade later, when the Civil War broke out, however, the federal presence in the Los Angeles area was a whole different matter as troops were stationed in several areas, notable Camp Drum near the harbor at Wilmington, due to the overwhelming Confederate sympathies manifested in the region.

Meanwhile, Marshall William Reader found himself at odds with the council, though not directly over matters of criminal justice.  Instead, the issue was in the cleaning of city street, which was to be done by prisoners held by the city in jail.  When Reader submitted a bill in May for $150 to cover three months of work, the council ordered it referred back to the Police Committee, composed of attorney Myron Norton and Antonio Franco Coronel, for reconsideration "in the light of the opinions advanced during debate and of the contract itself."

When Norton and Coronel reported back at the 15 May meeting, they stated "they they had ascertained that the Marshal had failed to clean the streets and is consequently not entited to receive" any money as claimed, although the pair then did state that "some of the work had been done."  Coronel proposed that Reader receive half the amount "to indemnify him for what work he did so, and it was so ordered."

On 3 June, board president Manuel Requena proposed that the contract paying Reader $50 a month for street cleaning be canceled because citizens were, by ordinance, required to clean in front of their houses, and the mayor, then John G. Nichols, was to enforce the ordinance.  When Reader submitted his latest claim, it was rejected as lacking (presumably, the work was not done or was poorly.)  Twelve days later, Reader resigned and George Bachelder was appointed in his stead by Nichols.  Bachelder was then elected to the position on 18 August with the porch of the home of Ygnacio del Valle being the polling place.

The need for a dedicated jail occupied the council for much of the year.  On 3 June, council member and future governor John G. Downey asked what the city's rights were respecting the existing jail shared with the county.  Myron Norton then stated that Mayor Nichols implored the council the consider "the urgent necessity of providing the City with a Jail."  Norton then proposed that Nicols "be authorized to secure and equip a room which shall serve as a Jail under the care of the Marshal."

On the 15th, Nichols submitted a report that "he had secured two rooms, at a rental of fifteen dollars per month each, for use as a Jail."  The council readily assented to this with the provision that it was "reserving itself the benefit of any reduction of the rental should occasion arise."  For a city constantly on the edge of financial want, these kinds of statements were essential.

Articles from the 7 August 1852 edition of the Los Angeles Star regarding two matters discussed by the town's Common Council.  The first was for a new jail, which the article notes the construction of which was let out to J.D, Hunter (he did not complete the project, however).  The other was about a new property tax of 25 cents for every $100 of property, 20% of which was to go to the Jail Fund.

Wanting something better than existing adobe buildings of generally poor quality for the purpose, the council, on 2 August, heard a motion to institute a property tax of 50 cents for every $100 of value and "twenty per centum of the amount thus collected shall be set aside to form a fund for the construction of a City Jail."  Six members were present and it was split with half voting for the suggested rate and the other wanting 25 cents per $100, rather than 50.  Council member Mathew Keller proposed a compromise of 37 1/2 cents and this was referred to the Finance Committee.

At a special meeting the following day, the committe suggested a vote for either the Keller proposal or the 25 cents per $100 suggestion and, with seven members present, the vote was 4-3 to go with the lower amount.  Clearly, council members were concerned with imposition of taxes and, probably, their prospects at the next election.

On 7 August, Mayor Nichols reported "that the City has no premises that could be used as a jail," evidently his previous location did not pan out, "and it was accordingly resolved that the rooms in Mr. John Temple's house, which appeared suitable for that purpose, be engaged." Temple, who was the second Anglo to settle in Los Angeles, owned a home south of the Plaza on Main Street, and was frequently involved in civic matters, including the loan of the money to pay for the first survey of Los Angeles, done by Lt. Edward O.C. Ord in 1849, and, in 1859, built a two-story brick building that was leased two years later to the city and county for a courthouse and municipal and county offices.

In conjunction with the county, the city hired J.D. Hunter, to build a 30'x15'  two-story, with the lower story to be of stone and the second, consisting of the jailer's [this was also the town's marshal] residence to be adobe.  The $7000 cost was to be split among the two entities and the structure was to be finished by the end of the year.  Unfortunately, the project was not completed and it was another two years before a jail was built, as noted in previous posts.

Finally, the question of dealing with public disturbances occupied some considerable time in the summer.  At the 12 August meeting, the minutes stated that

It having come to the knowledge of the Council that excesses are being committed at the 'Maromas' or tight rope performances, subversive of public morals, and, furthermore, several citizens having complained of the noise caused by said shows which penetrates the neighborhood for a great distance, and considering the danger of a cruel epidemic, threatening to invade the country, which would be fed by late hours and excesses, Council resolved that the Mayor be invited to abate these abuses, prohibiting the beating of drums before and during the performances and not allowing them to continue after eleven o'clock at night, or by resorting to other measures which his prudence may suggest.

A maroma traditionally has been a one-man performance practiced in rural Mexico that included acrobatics, including tricks with tight ropes, but there seems to have been a variation here in Los Angeles involving enthusiastic accompaniment by drumming and, perhaps more public display, creating, at least for sme, a nuisance.

Notably, though, this statement was signed, not just by council member Downey, but also by Coronel and Requena, suggesting that the concern was not necessarily ethnic.

At the 22 September meeting, the minutes contained a statement that "having been informed of the abuses which to the detriment of good order are being committed by Indians when arresting other Indians who are disorderly," the council asked Mayor Nichols to attend to the situation, as well as "to prevent that the Indians put under arrest by the Marshal" were not treated with abuse.

It is worth pointing out here that there was an Indian alcalde who had jurisdiction in arresting Indians caught committing crimes, but also that in early 1853, Nichols was tried by the District Court on a charge of "misconduct in office" for the way Indians were treated, though, the matter was dismissed because there was no provision in state law for the alleged misconduct.

This article from the 16 November 1852 issue of the Star concerns the recently completed session of the Board of Land Commissioners in Los Angeles, where it heard land grant claims, including that of the city of Los Angeles.

While, generally, city and county prisoners held at the jail were available, in lieu of fines, for hiring out as free (some would say, slave) labor to farmers and ranchers, Coronel, who was tasked to report on the state of the city's zanjas, or ditches supplying the town with water from the Los Angeles River, proposed at the 5 November meeting "that all city prisoners available next Monday, shall be put to work on the ditch by the Mayor, provided the punishment is not disproportioned to the offense committed and that it lasts as long as they work."

One more little tidbit closes out this entry.  At the 17 December meeting, the council received a petition from a new resident who desired to open a school for instruction in English.  It should be noted that public schools were a couple of years away from creation and any education was conducted by private tutors or, on occasion, a small school.  There were two mentioned in the minutes for this meeting, one conducted by the priest at the Old Plaza Church and another by council member Coronel.

The new petitioner was an immigrant from Arkansas and a native of North Carolina named Alveron S. Beard, who was mentioned in some detail in an earlier post concerning the writings of Horace Bell.  The council, at this meeting, voted to hire him at $35 per month for the express purpose of teaching poor children, many of whom were to be designated by the council.  Once this was decided upon, Coronel recommended the creation of a schools committee and Downey and del Valle were named to serve.

As for Beard, more about him in a later post concerning his checkered career as city marshal.

The Los Angeles Common Council and Criminal Justice, 1851

As the city of Los Angeles entered its second year of existence as a chartered American-era town, its Common [City] Council was undergoing a good deal of flux not unexpected for a frontier town.

As 1851 dawned, Stephen C. Foster, who served as an alcalde (roughly, mayor) at the end of the Mexican period, and José Vicente Guerrero took their seats after a special election, but then council member Alexander W. Hope submitted his resignation, as did city marshal Thomas Cox, who'd only been in office a short time.  Consequently, the council called for a special election on the 15th.

Meanwhile, Mayor Manuel Requena took up a matter that was first broached a few months earlier by council member Morris Goodman, who'd soon after resigned, this being the creation of a dedicated police force.  Meantime, with Cox vacating the marshal's office, the council passed a resolution that Moses Searles "be appointed a special police officer charged with the duties of the Marshal until the latter's election.

On 8 January, the minutes recorded that

The Mayor submitted a communication from several citizens of Los Angeles offering their good offices in the formation of a Police force, whereupon Council passed a vote of thanks for the good disposition shown by the gentlemen.

Requena followed by observing that the example set by the nine unnamed men who sent the letter should be demonstrated through an invitation to the general public for a volunteer police force (distinguished from Goodman's proposal for a paid force) to be selected by its own membership.  A suggestion was made to call for citizens to form "a Police Corps for the maintenance of good order in this City" and another recommendation was for a mass public meeting at the Plaza the next Saturday afternoon, though no disposition of these was recorded.

Eight days later, the returns of the special election were recorded with John O. Wheeler, later publisher of The Southern Californian newspaper, elected to the open council seat, and Alexander Gibson elected as marshal.

For a time the situation was stable and the only matters of note had to do with Gibson's offer to clean the streets for $50 per month and a special committee's suggestion that this be accepted "on condition that he be allowed to use the prisoners of the City to do this this work."

A common problem arose as spring arrived and the city perpetually battled financial deprivation.  On 1 May, the council decided to accept a finance committee recommendation to revise salaries for city officials.  The mayor and city attorney saw their compensation reduced, while the marshal was to be paid in fees basd on ordinances passed and revised in October 1850 and the past March.

Two days later, treasurer F.P.F. Temple reported that the city's cash reserves amounted to just $84.68 and the finance committee pointed out that businesses were evading license fees, which were the source of much of the town's revenues.  It was also noted that the city recorder still had some fines from April that had not been turned over to Temple and this $32 was obviously desperately needed!

This is an 1842 print titled "Natives of California," from an original provided courtesy of The Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum, City of Industry.

In late May, the council amended its set of police ordinances to deal with the continuing problem of :the scandalous reunions of the Indians" on weekends and, specifically, "the gathering of the Indians [with respect to what was] called the game of the 'Pillon'" or Peon.  

Descriptions of the gambling game vary, but essentially Peon involved two teams of four men on either side of a bonfire.  Each had two pieces of bone or wood, one with a black band around it.  One of the men on each side held these pieces in each of his hands (these tied with leather thongs to prevent undue sleight-of-hand) under a blanket and the team on the other side had to guess which hand held the one without the band.  

Counters were used to determine how many incorrect guesses each side had and the first to reach fifteen counters for unsuccessful guesses was the losing side. Key was for the holder of the pieces to maintain a completely stoic expression to prevent the other side from guessing where the unmarked piece was when the other side pointed to the hand they thought it was in.

During the intense and lengthy process, games lasting many hours or even two or three days, songs were sung by women standing behind the players to spur the other side to fail, either in the guessing or for those holding the unmarked piece to betray by expression the hand it was in.   With alcohol and heavy wagers involved, violence often erupted during the games.

Consequently, the council amended its ordinances on 21 May so that "the game of 'Peon' is prohibited throughout the City, and reunions of Indians in the strets after night-fall are forbidden."  Perhaps because of the need to enforce this new ordinance and others that may have gone unenforced, the council agreed that "the Marshal shall have the right to appoint what number of deputies may be needed."  Further, "the Marshal and his deputies shall see to it that no intoxicating beverage is sold to the Indians" and take the proper steps with judicial authorities if this was violated.

Those Indians who ran afoul of these new prohibitions were subject to a fine of $2.50 or six days work on the chain gang.  As noted here previously, this week-long sentence was often followed by violations of the law on the seventh day and then a return to the "vicious cycle" of chain gang labor for the next week.  For those guilty of selling liquor to Indians, the fine was $20 or five days work on the chain gang or both, at the discretion of the mayor, who had jurisdiction on these matters.

There was one other change to the ordinances, which stated that the marshal and his deputies "shall wear a red ribbon in the button hole of their coats, by which they can be known as Police Officers."  The use of the term "police officers" is a segue into the next important action of the council in their criminal justice work--a topic that will be covered in the next post.

The Los Angeles Common Council and Criminal Justice, 1850, Part Three

In the last few months of 1850, the year that city and county government began operations in Los Angeles, the flux that might be expected in any newly-organized frontier community manifested in varying ways.

With the Los Angeles Common (City) Council, one of the problems that arose early on had to do with the high turnover of its elected officials, including council members.  With regard to criminal justice administration, a key isue was compensation, starting with the town's first marshal, Samuel Whiting.

But, at the meeting of 13 September, Whiting reported that "for sundry reasons . . . he is not satisdied with the salary of six hundred dollars per annum" and, instead, requested the same compensation as the county sheriff, G. Thompson Burrill, which was based on fees.  These fees were for any service of process, for mileage traveled in the conduct of business, and so on, and were set by state law.

At the meeting, council member Jonathan Temple moved for the creation of a special committee to make a recommendation based on Whiting's request and he and new council member Benjamin D. Wilson were appointed.  Evidently, the results were not to Whiting's satisfaction, as he submitted his resignation on the following meeting of the 24th.

The council then called for a special election on 5 October, which was changed to the 7th and expanded when council member Alexander Bell and city treasurer Francisco Figueroa resigned their positions.  The election, held at the El Palacio adobe residence of Abel Stearns on Main Street, but, in the meantime, council member David W. Alexander proposed appointing a marshal pro tem, so that someone would be on the job.  When they asked a "Mr. Morton" to take the temporary position, he refused "not being familiar with the duties of that office."  Of course, the only prerequisite to serving was to simply be elected.  Alexander then asked that the mayor and recorder select a marshal pro tem and pay him $3 per day, which was approved by the council.

On 9 October, the election results were announced with Alexander W. Hope elected to the council, F.P.F. Temple as city treasurer, and Thomas Cox as marshal.  That same meeting the council's finance committee offered a fee schedule for the marshal, but this was not detailed in the minutes.  Council member Morris Goodman also proposed that the mayor be authorized "to establish a City Police Department, consisting of a Captain and two roundsmen; the Captain to receive one hundred dollars per month, and the roundsmen seventy-five dollars per month each."

Morris Goodman (1819-1888) was the first Jewish member of the Los Angeles Common (City) Council and proposed the formation of a city police department in October 1850.  Although the proposal was rejected by the council, a volunteer force was created the following year.  Later, Goodman was a partner with Theodore Rimpau in a mercantile house in Anaheim.  The photo is from the Jewish Museum of the American West, a great Web site, and their page on Goodman is here. 

Goodman's recommendation was rejected, likely not because it was a bad idea--in fact, it was almost certainly necessary given the amount of violence and law-breaking in town, but because it was just too expensive to expend $3,000 a year for officers, when the current system paid in the high hundreds.  In fact, not long after Francisco Bustamente, teacher at the only town-funded school, requested a raise from $60 per month to $100, the council decided, towards the end of the year to shut the institution down.

Another significant problem of the era was the dire situation with the local Indians, whose society was torn asunder from the time the Spanish missionaries arrived late 18th century and continued to struggle under Mexican and then American rule.  Among the many problems was a high rate of alcoholism in a region that counted wine and brandy manufacturing as one of its economic mainstays.  As noted here before, Indians were often paid in these articles, got drunk on Sundays (their one day off during the week), were arrested and jailed and, in lieu of having money to pay a fine for disorderly conduct, were farmed out to local ranchers and farmers, who paid them again with alcohol, fueling a vicious cycle.

On 16 October, then, the council resolved to ban "all mixing with the Indians of California during their feats [fetes] or reunions within this City."  This had specifically to do with gatherings in which Indians would drink to excess and violence, abuse and other behaviors would generally ensue.  The council then enacted an ordinance that stated "the police shall have the pwer to apprehend and arrest the transgressors and bring them before the Recorder, who may impose a fine up to twenty dollars or ten days in the chain gang . . ."

At the 27 November meeting, the mayor called the council's attention "to the destitute condition of the laborers employed on City works and asking that a sum of money be assigned to them to relieve their wants."  While it was not stated who these people were, it is safe to assume that many, or most, were Indians.  The council, however, chose not to address the matter.

By the end of the year, there had been another change to the composition of the council, as Jonathan Temple and Morris Goodman both resigned their seats, for reasons unspecified.  An election was called for on the 30th and the remainder of the business of the council before December concluded had mainly to do with the role of the recorder in dealing with both city ordinances and state statutes, relative to collecting fines for infractions of both.  It was noted that a little less than $300 was accrued to the treasury from fines in November and most of it expended.

The next post takes the activities of the council into 1851, including the reconsideration of Morris Goodman's idea of a dedicated police force, so check back soon for that.

Native Indian Forced Labor in the Los Angeles Criminal Justice System

The situation among the native Indians of the Los Angeles region is, as with so many parallels around the world, a sad tale of destruction and loss mingled with resiliency and determination for those indigenous people who have survived.

From the arrival of the Spaniards by land in 1769 onward, the Indians, called Gabrieleños by the conquerors, and such names as Tongva and Kizh by varying factions of descendants today, faced the onslaught of disease, forced labor, abject living conditions, destruction of native plant and animal resources, alcoholism, violence and other forces.  Despite this, there are many thousands of people today who claim some portion of native blood, even if the last of the pureblooded Gabrieleño passed on decades ago.

The situation continued to worsen in the American period, particularly as the Gold Rush and general western migration brought Americans and Europeans to the area in greater numbers.  Constituting the main labor force on the region's ranches and farms, the largest of which were roughly similar to the plantations of the South (and, not coincidentally, many of the new migrants to the Los Angeles area were from that part of the U.S.), natives were often paid in liquor, which they then consumed and, when drunk, were arrested and confined in jail.

Unable to pay the fines accuring on their convictions, Indians then found themselves subjected to being "hired out" as laborers to work off their sentences.  This was, in effect, a forced labor system that some have likened to slavery.

The system of contracted labor of Indian convicts in the Los Angeles city jail was managed by the mayor, whose court heard the cases of public intoxication that led to convictions and sentences, and the city marshal, who was responsible for managing the jail.

In late Winter 1853, charges were brought by the county Grand Jury against Mayor John G. Nichols and Marshal George Batchelder for misconduct in office.  The two were alleged to have financially profited directly from the labor system.  The matter went before the Los Angeles district court, presided over by recently-elected Judge Benjamin Hayes.

As reported in the 26 February edition of the Los Angeles Star, however, "the court decided that the statutes on this subject applied expressly and exclusively to county, township and district officers" and "that in such a case as the present, the party, injured might have resorted to certioari, habeus corpus, and other adequate remedies."

A summary of the case of People v. John G. Nichols, mayor of Los Angeles, in the Los Angeles Star, 26 February 1853.

The concept of certioari, or legal review, involves having a higher court, such as the Los Angeles District Court, reviewing the rulings of a lower tribunal, like the Mayor's Court.  The issue of habeus corpus deals with unlawful imprisonment.

Essentially, Judge Hayes ruled that, because there were no specific state laws covering the question of misconduct in improper jailing (and, then, farming off Indian convicts for labor in lieu of paying fines) by a mayor and marshal, the only legal resort was to seek review of Nichols' rulings on Indian cases and Batchelder's imprisonment of natives.

Consequently, the notice in the paper simply observed: "Defendant was discharged."  The case file for the District Court proceeding, dated 20 February 1853, and now deposited with The Huntington Library, noted that the charges were dismissed.

Hayes' ruling and dismissal, of course, does not mean that Nichols and Batchelder were innocent of manipulation of Indian convicts in the matter of labor to "pay off" their fines.  It was, rather, a technical matter, something that, in other types of criminal cases, generally infuriated the press and many of the local populace.

In light of the statutes then in effect, though, it was the correct legal ruling.  Clearly, state law and practice did not, in this example, serve to protect native Indians from the predatory nature of forced labor.  As their numbers declined precipitously during the 1850s, from about 3,800 enumerated Indians in the 1852 state census to about 2,000 by 1860, natives suffered legal, as well as social, political and economic abuses, by omission as well as commission.

The practice of sending Indian convicts into forced labor on the area's ranches and farms in lieu of fines for intoxication convictions (brought about largely because of the practice of payment for that same labor with alcohol) is the ultimate example of the "vicious cycle" and a black mark on society in early American-era Los Angeles.