The Los Angeles Jail and the 1870 Census

In 1870, as Los Angeles was undergoing its first major development boom and was beginning to move from a frontier town to a small city, the federal census was conducted in the summer.

The official count of population in the city was just under 6,000, while the county tally was about 15,000 persons.  This was, as all censuses tend to be, an undercount, but it reflected a major change from the previous census in 1860 and, more importantly, reflected the growth that had ensued from the post-Civil War years.

As the last post discussed the 1860 census and the city and county jail, it is interesting to note that, not only was the jail in the same two-story (adobe first floor and brick second floor) structure behind the Rocha Adobe at Spring Street between Temple and First, but that the jailer was, once again, Francis J. Carpenter, who had the distinction of being the longest serving person in that position in early Los Angeles.

Here is the 1870 federal census listing for Los Angeles city and county jail keeper Francis J. Carpenter, who was in the position a decade prior, as well as the inmates in the facility.

Carpenter, as noted earlier, came to Los Angeles following his older brother, Lemuel, who owned the Rancho Santa Gertrudes in southeastern Los Angeles County until financial problems from debts owed to John G. Downey (California's governor in the early 1860s) led to his suicide.  Francis served as jailer for several years in the late 1850s and early 1860s and then returned to the position in time for the census.

He resided on the jail site with his second wife Ann, his son from a prior marriage, Alexander, and three daughters from his second marriage.  Reflecting a recent demographic change in Los Angeles, Carpenter had a Chinese cook, 41-year old Ku Ah.  The Chinese community in town had grown to over 200 persons in recent years from just 11 in the 1860 census.

As to the inmates at the jail, they totaled 22, compared to the dozen that occupied the facility ten years prior.  Unlike the 1860 census, when the enumerator noted the charges that the prisoners either faced or by which they were convicted, census taker Jonathan D. Dunlap, when he made his rounds on 18 August, did not list the charges.

Instead Dunlap recorded names ages, occupation and place of birth along with sex and race.  On that latter point, other major demographic shifts are in evidence.  Firstly, only 2 of the 22 men were Latino, both from Mexico, and the Spanish-speaking population of Los Angeles was, on a percentage basis overall, declining. .  Then, there were two black prisoners, which is also reflective of a small, but growing, community of African Americans in town, of whom there were about 110 enumerated in the census.

There was a disproportionate number of French and Irish-born prisoners in jail, four of the former and six of the latter, relative to their numbers in town.  One other European, a German, meant that fully half of the inmates were from outside the United States.  Of the nine Americans, four were from southern and the other five were from northern states.

As to ages, they ranged from 17 to 63 with the average age being pretty typical for prison and jail populations, at 27 1/2 years.  Occupationally, prisoners were overwhelmingly common laborers, comprising 16 of the 22, or about 73%.  There were three cooks, a sheep herder, a school teacher and a bookkeeper among the rest.  

Another interesting detail was that one of the prisoners actually had self-declared property values.  John Rogers, a 45-year old Tennessee-born laborer, gave his personal property value at $1,600 and his personal property value as $700.  None of the other prisoners had this distinction.

Court cases involving most of these men survive in existing files, with only a half-dozen of the prisoners unaccounted for.  John Baker, a 32-year old French-born cook, was tried on an arson charge on and found guilty.  There is, however, a record that a new trial in his case was ordered, though it is not known if one took place.  Patrick Carmody, a 22-year old Irish cook, was on trial just a week prior to the census, on the 11th, and pled guilty to second degree murder, which carried a 10-year term at San Quentin.  He was in the county lockup for just a short time until he was transferred to "the big house."

George M. Cox, a 30-year old bookkeeper from Maine, was tried on an embezzlement rap and was found guilty, but the state supreme court reversed the judgment and remanded his case back to Los Angeles for a new trial.  There is no record of one, however.

The oldest prisoner, 63-year old Mathew Wall, a native of Ireland, was in jail for an attempted rape charge and his trial was just nine days prior to the census taking, but there is no known disposition in the matter.  Henry Ryan, a 19-year old Irish native, was up for a grand larceny rap and had a 12 July trial but his case file only included indictments and an arrest warrant--there was no known disposition.

21-year old French native Martin Giraud was in jail on a charge of obtaining money under flase pretences and his case file from the same date as Ryan only contained an indictment.  A.B. Boyd, a 28-year old laborer hailing from Illinois, was found guilty of grand larceny on 18 July in stealing a horse.  Charles Wright, 23 and from France, and Charles Smith, 20, and from Germany, were tried together for grand larceny and breaking and entering and both found guilty.

The last three men on the enumerated list: John Davis, F.G. Peters and John Downey, all were rried for grand larceny and burglary, but were found not guilty.  Ismael Romero, the youngest of the prisoners at 17 and a native of Mexico, was tried on a grand larceny charge, but this was reduced to petty larceny in the theft of a horse and some personal property and he was found guilty.

John Kelly, a 22-year old Illinois native and a laborer, went to trial on 16 September on a grand larceny charge and was found guilty.  His crime was stealing a box used in the popular gambling game of faro!  Trinidad Castro, a 28-year old laborer from Mexico, was likely in jail the longest, as his trial on grand larceny for stealing over two dozen horses in Anaheim was held 25 January and he was found guilty.  Frank Hail, a 25-year old Georgia-born laborer, went to trial on 9 September for grand larceny and pled guilty, for which he received a 15-month sentence.

As to jailer Carpenter, he later joined the ranks of the Los Angeles Police Department, being appointed in the late 1870s as a policeman.  The accompanying photo is of Carpenter in his uniform with badge and can be dated to about 1879 because the photography studio of Tuttle and Parker only existed in Los Angeles for a very short period around that time.  Carpenter is also enumerated in the 1880 federal census as a policeman, as shown in the image above.  More interestingly, this photo, recently acquired by the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum, appears to be one of the earliest, if not the oldest, surviving photos of a LAPD officer in uniform.

The Los Angeles Jail and the 1860 Census

There have been many posts on this blog that have referred to the Los Angeles city and county jail and the next two posts will examine the censuses of 1860 and 1870 and the enumeration of the jailer and the residents of the calaboose at the time the census taker made the rounds.

As for the first federal census taken in Los Angeles during the American era, the 1850 enumeration was actually carried out in January and February 1851, because of the late admission of California as the thirty-first state in the Union the previous September.

Census taker John R. Evertsen, however, did not enumerate the jailer or its convicts--though it should be said, again, that Evertsen's count as a whole was grossly inexact (a claim made upon the whole state count, as a matter of fact.)  Evertsen's count of 1,610 residents in Los Angeles and 3,530 in the county was so low that, when the state conducted its own census about a year and a half later, in summer 1852, the county total was nearly 8,000--one of the problems was that Evertsen only counted a couple hundred Indians, whereas the state tallied almost 4,000.

In any case, the first census to include the jail in the enumeration was in 1860.  On 16 June, census taker James C. Pennie made the rounds and, after counting city marshal John J. Trafford and his deputy (future marshal and shooting victim of one of his constables a decade later) William C. Warren, he made his way to attorney Samuel Reynolds and publisher of the little known newspaper, The Southern Vineyard, J.J. Warner.  This was followed by a printer, probably for Warner, Joseph M. Peru, and then merchant Louis Jaszynsky.

Pennie then visited Francis J. Carpenter, listed as "county jailor."  Carpenter, aged 40 and a native of Kentucky, was the brother of Rancho Santa Gertrudes owner Lemuel Carpenter (who had recently committed suicide over debts he had incurred to soon-to-be California governor John G. Downey and a partner, which caused the loss of the ranch.)  Carpenter self-declared his property value at $3,750 and had a separate listing on an agricultural census for 630 acres of land valued at $700, on which were 33 horses valued at $750.  Carpenter did buy part of the Rancho Centinela in the modern Inglewood area and, presumably, this is where his agricultural census property was located.  In his household was his 27-year old wife Ann, a native of Missouri, his 19-year old son by an earlier marriage, John, also born in Missouri and his two children with Ann, 7-year old Alexander and 5-year old Josephine.

Also on the jail property was an Indian family, comprised of Domingo Tarrata, age 30 and working as the cook, his wife Polonia, age 24, and listed as servant, and their two daughters, 7-year old Rita and 5-year old Angel.

A dozen inmates were counted that day in the jail.  6 were Latinos from California or Mexico, 1 was an American, another a European, and 3 were Indians.  The last was a mixed race individual, Jose J. Chapman, whose father, Joseph, was the first Anglo to live in Los Angeles.

Here is the section of the 1860 federal census of Los Angeles, showing jailer Francis J. Carpenter and his family, the jail's cook and servant Domingo and Polonia Tarrata, and the twelve inhabitants of the combined county and city lockup.

Of interest is that, in the far right column, were the charges by which the men were either accused or convicted.  Two men were in for "assault to kill," including 47-year old vaquero (sublisted as "herdsman") José [Serbulo] Varela (shown as "Barelas") and Chapman, age 34 and also a vaquero.  Samuel Goldstein, a 23-year old peddler orignally from Prussia, was in for "assault with the intent to commit murder," which sounds similar to the "assault to kill," but was akin to a charge of first or second degree murder instead of manslaughter; that is, the intent was preplanned for Goldstein and more spur of the moment for Varela and Chapman.

Three prisoners were in for "grand larceny," including 19-year old vaquero Juan Carbajal, 24-year old laborer George Watson, and 19-year old laborer Jesús López.  Two others were in for "petty larceny," including 53-year old shoemaker, Agustín "Montion" and 21-year old vaquero Francisco Tapia.  Trinidad German, a 35-year old laborer was jailed on an assault rap.

All of the above were technically in the county jail on serious charges and this left the three Indians who probably comprised the inhabitants of the city facility on the first floor of the two-story jail erected in 1854 in the courtyard of the Rocha Adobe, which served as city and county offices and the courthouse.  A photo of the site was recently posted on this blog.

The Indians were 18-year old José, 20-year old Juan, and 26-year old Tomás Feliz.  June 16 was a Saturday, so it is possible the trio were arrested on a Friday night and held over for the weekend, but this is not established with certainty.

Chapman was charged with assaulting Francisco López, but his court file in the Court of Sessions lists the crime as "assault to murder."  on 30 August 1859 he was convicted and sentenced to a year, so was a few months shy of his release.

Varela was a veteran of the Mexican-American War fighting for the Californios against the Americans.  He was highly respected by the latter, however, for his defense of protecting Americans captured at the headquarters of the Chino ranch (today's Boys Republic troubled youth facility in Chino Hills) against Californios who wanted to execute the captured Americans in the heat of the fighting during the war.

It will be recalled in an earlier post here about Los Angeles County prisoners at San Quentin that Varela was sent up to "the big house" for a year on petty larceny and perjury convictions in 1854-55.

Here again is the Henry T. Payne photo from the mid-1870s of the two-story jail, lower right of center, in the courtyard of the Rocha Adobe, which was the courthouse until 1861, when the facility, along with city and county offices, were relocated to the Market House at the upper left.

In this matter, Varela was charged with "assault to murder" according to his case file for an attack on Marcos Vera and on 14 March 1860 pled guilty to assault and battery.  His sentence was a $200 fine or 100 days in jail.  Presumably he was locked up in lieu of the fine and should have been released imminently at the time the census was taken.

Yet, his freedom after leaving jail was short-lived.  In September 1860, Varela's body was found in the zanja madre (mother ditch supplying water for Los Angeles), having been stabbed to death in a crime that went unsolved.

Juan Carbajal went to trial on 14 July for grand larceny in stealing 2 horses from José Garcia, though there was complaint at the end of 1859 for the same charge in a crime committed against Fernando Sepulveda.  In the Garcia matter, Carbajal was found guilty and sentenced to four years at San Quentin--more about him in "The Big House" series of posts later.

As for George Watson, there was a case against him for grand larceny in the stealing of a horse from the livery stable of Taft and Edwards, but that was on 23 March and the district attorney filed a "nolle prosequi", or a decline to prosecute.  Perhaps, however, Watson was reindicted and retried, though there is no case file for this.

A case against José de la Cruz López for perjury in a horse theft case went to trial on 26 November 1860, but also ended with a "nolle prosequi" filing by the D.A.

Francisco Tapia was tried for grand larceny, not petty larceny as the census listing shows, in some kind of theft of property of Ira Thompson, a hotel keeper in El Monte, and was convicted on 16 March.  His sentence was the same as Varela, a $200 fine or 100 days in jail, and he, too, must've not had the funds to pay up, so served his time and was due to be released very soon after the census was taken.

There were no case files found for German, "Montion" or Goldstein and mayor's court cases against the Indians do not appear to have survived.

The next post will take up the 1870 census of the jail, so check back for that!

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors and Criminal Justice, 1857

The year 1857 began with the horrific ambush of Sheriff James R. Barton and four members of the posse he led against a gang of thieves, known as the Flores-Daniel Gang, who had been committing robberies and a murder at San Juan Capistrano.  This incident has been discussed in detail here in this blog.

The first meeting of the year was on the 28th, soon after the murders, and the board's primary business was to order that the vacancies of the office of sheriff and for the two constables, Charles Baker and William Little, killed in the incident be filled.  The board then set the date of 7 February for their next meeting and to make those appointments.

Four of the five members, Manuel Dominguez being absent, were present and the chair was Tomás Sánchez, whose service under Andrés Pico, in the manhunt to capture the killers was very important.

A new supervisor was El Monte resident Richard C. Fryer, who was among that town's settlers in 1852.  An ordained Baptist minister, the first in the Los Angeles region, Fryer later moved to the town of Spadra, founded by former El Monte settler William W. Rubottom, in what is now Pomona and served in the state assembly.

Another neophyte to the board was San Gabriel-area farmer William M. Stockton, who was among the first to travel across Death Valley in 1849 on his way to the newly discovered gold fields of California.  In 1852, Stockton, who did well in the mines, moved to Los Angeles and acquired part of the Huerta de Cuati, a grant of land made to native Indian Victoria Reid.  Stockton acquired what was known as the "Pear Orchard," a remnant of the Mission San Gabriel's former fruit orchards and where he had a vineyard, and moved into an adobe home in what is now San Marino.  When times were bad in the drought-ridden mid-1860s, Stockton lost the property to two men, including his fellow Death Valley traveler William M. Manly, whose published reminiscences were widely read.  He remained in the area, however, and died in 1894.  Stockton was among those present when Miguel Soto, said to have been in the Flores-Daniel gang, and a few other Latinos were killed by San Gabriel-area citizens just as this meeting took place--his role is not certain, however.

Then there was Jonathan R. Scott, who has been mentioned in this blog before several times.  A native of New York, who lived in Missouri for a period, Scott abandoned a wife and children in his home state when he moved west.  Upon arriving in Los Angeles in 1850, he opened a law practice and was a justice of the peace.  He was the 6'4" giant who could reach up and crush termite-ridden ceiling joists in the Rocha Adobe courthouse not long before his election to the board, though he didn't complete his term.  Scott died in 1864 in Los Angeles, having owned considerable property downtown and a vineyard in what is today Burbank.

The four supervisors each voted for a candidate: Charles E. Hale, a lawman mentioned here before; El Monte resident Frank Gentry, John Reed, whose father-in-law, John Rowland, owned half of the massive Rancho La Puente in the eastern San Gabriel Valley, and Elijah Bettis, also mentioned in the last post.  After a second route stalemate, it was decided to wait until the next meeting, presumably with Dominguez, who was owner of the Rancho San Pedro and a delegate to the 1849 constitutional convention, could cast the deciding vote.  Meantime, William H. Peterson was appointed to serve out Little's term as constable, but Baker's position was not filled.

On the 14th, again with Dominguez assumed to be present, Baker's constable slot was filled by B.B. Barker and the vote was to appoint Bettis as sheriff.

The 2 March meeting contained more material related to the Flores-Daniel gang, in which District Attorney Cameron E. Thom suggested that the board appoint someone to petition the state legislature for approval of funds as provided for in a statute "to suppress armed banditti," in both Los Angeles and San Bernardino counties which was passed on 4 February in response to the Barton massacre.

Benjamin D. Wilson, a former city clerk and mayor in Los Angeles and later supervisor and state senator, who moved to the same Huerta de Cuati mentioned above and established his "Lake Vineyard" estate, where San Marino's Lacy Park is situated, was appointed to this task of obtaining a warrant from the state and, if the funds were not available from the treasury, to sell the warrant for cash.  The monies were to go into a special fund called the "Fund to Provide for the Arrest and Suppression of Bands of Armed Banditti in the County of Los Angeles."

This editorial from the Los Angeles Star, 25 April 1857, discusses the "disorganized state" in Los Angeles County that kept the region from assuming the "position and prospects" it deserved.  See below for the rest of the piece.

At the same meeting, Thom suggested that the board also approach the legislature about approving a special tax of 1/8 of 1% of the county's assessed property value for payment of the debt attached to the court house.

When three weeks later, on the 23rd, a special meeting was called to deal with unfinished business that did "serious injury" to the county, discussion was had about the county's finances going back to the previous summer and the meetings continued for two days, but there was no record of what transpired.  It was revealed at that meeting that Scott resigned and his replacement, former Los Angeles mayor, state senator, and constitutional convention delegate, Stephen C. Foster (who famously resigned the mayoralty to participate in the early 1855 lynching of convicted murderer, David Brown, and then was promptly returned to the office in the resulting special election), was elected chair.

In meetings in April and May, lists of jurors who served at the recent terms of the Court of Sessions and District Court were provided.  The last post noted that this was a new feature of the minutes and the ethnic breakdown of these juries have been the focus of speculation about whether justice in these courts was possible when the juries were so skewed towards European and American membership.

For these two months, the proportions were obvious.  Of 120 men listed, 17, of only 14%, had Spanish-language surnames.  In November, a smaller list of Sessions jurors, showed 3 of 21, also 14%, were Latino  Yet, surviving case files with dispositions noted for trials do not appear to suggest any bias solely because of jury composition given the relatively close rate of convictions for defendants who were Latino compared to those who were Anglo.

At the 8 May meeting of the board, there was a list of payments made out to those who provided a variety of materials and services in the hunt for the Flores-Daniel Gang.  These included medical care by doctors, the rent of rooms to posses, the hiring of horses, sundry supplies, food, ammunition and the building of gallows and provision of coffins for the men who were summarily executed (lynched).

Of the total of 51 items, about a third were from persons with Spanish-language surname, a notable point given that some historians argue that Flores and Daniel were vaguely identified "social bandits," who emjoyed substantial support and succor from fellow Latinos.  Whether this was true or not, it appears there were some Latinos who were willing, or perhaps were forced in some circumstances as there is no way to tell, to provide aid to those hunting the bandits.  In early November, another 12 persons were reimbursed for ammunition, horses and supplies.

An important financial matter was addressed at the meeting of 5 August, which was a levy of 35 cents on every 100 dollars of assessed property for expenses for the maintenance of the jail, always a major expense for the county, as well as payments on the Rocha Adobe, which comprised the court house and city and county offices, with the jail in its rear courtyard.

At the same meeting, the board voted, correspondingly, to increase the allowance, taken from the Jail Fund, for prisoner maintenance to 75 cents for each "white" person, including Latinos, and 50 cents per Indian.  Jailor Francis Carpenter had his salary increased to $1600 per year, though it was also resolved that

the jailor is to furnish at his own proper cost the necessary lights, water, wood, and to keep the jail in good order, and also to furnish the prisoners with good, wholesome food.  He is also to have the jail swept and whitewashed when necessary for which purpose the County is to furnish the necessary brooms and whitewash

In the September county election, there was only one candidate for county judge, incumbent William G. Dryden, but whether it was because of his popularity, or the difficulty and lack of desirability for the job cannot be determined.  The race for sheriff was between John Reed, who was one of four candidates for appointment earlier in the year after Barton's death, and Los Angeles marshal William C. Getman, who was reelected to that post (it was possible then to hold both!).  The campaign for district attorney was decisive, when Ezra Drown bested Samuel R. Campbell, 1262 to 107.  The new Los Angeles justices of the peace were Russell Sackett and Narciso Botello, the latter a long-time member of the Californio elite, but one of the few to hold elected office in those days.  Constables elected were Frank H. Alexander and Robert A. Hester, both of whom were to serve for extended periods in those positions.

The second portion of the Star editorial of 25 April 1857.

In San Gabriel, Roy Bean, mentioned in the last post and who later went on to be a notorious Texas judge, barely secured election by one vote over Felipe Valenzuela as a constable.  Another interesting character in town, disgraced former Los Angeles marshal, Alviron S. Beard, ran for justice of the peace but garnered only 3 votes!  

Then there was William W. Jenkins, the young deputy constable mentioned in the last post and previously in the blog.  After his killing of Antonio Ruiz in July 1856, which led to a standoff between Spanish-speakers and Anglos in Los Angeles and near violence, and, after his acquittal, Jenkins unsuccessfully sought a constable's position (but his loss saved his life, probably, because he would have been with Sheriff Barton when that massacre took place.)  In any case, Jenkins moved to the San Pedro township, by the harbor, and won election there as a constable.

At El Monte, a young man, Andrew Jackson King, whose family was embroiled in at least two Southern-style feuds in the 1850s and 1860s, was elected a constable.  He later went on to be a newspaper publisher, city attorney, judge , assembly member, and ran a prviate law practice for many years, dying in his 90th year.

At the 30 September meeting, there was an interesting reference to a District Court civil case in which jailor Carpenter was sued by the people and a judgment of $2500 was found against him--the matter needs further research, but it would appear it had something to do with his claims for fees and services.

Perhaps not coincidentally, at the 5 November meeting with the new board seated, his compensation was slashed to $3 per day (a good $500 or more reduction annually) and the prisoner maintenance costs were reduced to 50 cents a head with no distinction between whites and Indians.  It is possible that the worsening post-Gold Rush economy (a national depression also broke out in 1857) was the cause of the reductions, however.

In the last post, it was noted that payments for the purchase of the Rocha Adobe for the court house and city and county offices were being made to Luis Jordan, who held a note on the property before it was sold by the Rochas to Jonathan Temple, who then conveyed the adobe and lot for $3160 to the city and county.  At the 5 November meeting, the board authorized payment of over $2200 to Jordan's minor daughter, who had an appointed guardian, vineyardist Mathew Keller, for her interest in the structure.

Finally, another disgraced city marshal's situation came before the board at this meeting.  Alfred Shelby, who skipped bail and headed to Mexico as he was being readied for trial in a homicide he committed, had a surety who posted a bond for Shelby's good conduct in office.  The same situation applied to two Latinos for another individual and the board resolved to these three parties could satisfy and cancel in county scrip (an IOU) their forfeited amounts of bond within ten days.  Otherwise, District Attorney Drown was empowered to pursue legal action in court to recover those funds.

It was quite a busy year in 1857 and the situation would be calmer the following year as the next post will discuss.

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors and Criminal Justice, 1856

The year 1856 marked the fourth full year of the existence of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors.  One of the newer elements of the minutes that started around this time was lists of jurors called for the several courts.

For example, the meeting of 9 February provided names of jurors who served in the lates term of both the Court of Sessions (renamed the County Court in 1864) and the District Court.  As noted here before, the Sessions court heard most criminal matters, excepting the most serious, such as murder, rape and, sometimes, arson, which were heard at the higher-level District Court.

At this meeting there were two dozen men attending each court and a breakdown of general ethnic categories, stated for this blog as "Spanish-language surnamed" and "American and European", showed that 9 of the 24 at the Court of Sessions and 4 of the 24 at the District Court had Spanish-language surnames.

The 4 June meeting provides lists of 55 jurors for the Sessions court and a dozen for the District Court.  In this case, while 10 of the Sessions jurors had Spanish-language surnames, 9 of the 12 at District Court did.  On 6 August, all dozen list jurors for the Sessions court were American or European.

With the unusual proportion of Spanish-language jurors at the District Court, as reported in early June, the total representation of 127 listed jurors for the year showed 32 had Spanish-language surnames, or about 1/4 of the total.

While Spanish-speakers were a solid majority of the population of the county then, it should be remembered that jurors were taken from the rolls of taxpayers in the county.  However, state law also provided that jurors were to be selected at random from those rolls according to specific instructions, though whether statute was complied with is another matter.

It has been stated by some historians, notably Richard Griswold del Castillo in his 1979 work Los Angeles Barrio that the low proportion of Spanish-surnamed jurors meant that defendants of the same classification could not get justice in Los Angeles' courts.  Del Castillo's analysis of jury composition largely squares with what this blogger has found.  The problem is that jury composition is only part of the equation--the better portion is to look at those cases that contain dispositions and then see what the conviction and acquittal rates show.

In hundreds of cases analyzed by this blogger, it was found that conviction rate differences between Spanish-language surnamed and American and European defendants actually narrowed over time, even as jury composition became even more skewed towards Americans and Europeans.  This runs counter to del Castillo's assertions, though it has to be said that there were many cases without disposition, some missing, and, besides, the dynamics of what drove any individual jury set to decide a case cannot be easily squared with statistics, either way.

As noted in the last several entries, financial matters also are a crucial part of what is found in these minutes, especially because criminal justice administration took up the lion's share of the county's expenditures and because, all too often, revenues were just not enough to keep pace.

Much of the expense had to do with maintenace of the jail, but sometimes revenue shortfalls came into place.  So, at the 11 February meeting, Francis J. Carpenter, the jailor had over $1600 in bills, but for the lion's share of that, he was expended 60 cents to the dollar "equivalent to cash," which sounds like scrip (or, basically, an IOU).  Yet, the next day, the board agreed to raise Carpenter's daily rate of compensation to $5.33.

On 3 June, he issued a claim to the board for another $1444.16.  Two days later, the board voted to issue more scrip to Carpenter for his bills.  In November, after another round of submitted bills by the jailor, the board voted to give him just 40 cents to the dollar in scrip.

Another financial matter had to do with the Rocha Adobe, which was purchased by the county from merchant Jonathan Temple in 1853 and which housed the courts and city and county offices.  In the courtyard behind the adobe which faced Spring Street, the two-story city and county jail was located.  In 1855, there had been an issue with a clear title and it appears that unresolved matters continued into 1856, because at the 12 February meeting, Luis Jordan presented a claim based on an assignment of an interest in the lot given to him by Antonio F. Rocha before the sale.  After discussion, the board agreed to give Rocha a receipt for $500 for a joint warrant on the property to settle Jordan's claim.

For unknown reasons, there are gaps in the record from 12 February to 5 May and then again to 2 June.  An interesting problem that confronted the supervisors in early June was a sudden spate of vacancies in the most of the justice of the peace offices in most of the county's townships, either because of resignations or failure of qualifications discovered quite a bit late after the September 1855 county election.

This map from about the 1890s, shows downtown Los Angeles from Temple Street, top (north) to above First Street, bottom (south) and from Main, right (east) , to Broadway, left (west.)  The court house and jail in the Rocha Adobe, bought from Jonathan Temple, from 1854 on were located at the corner of Spring Street and what was called Jail or Court and then later Franklin Street at the lower center, where the Phillips Block No. 1, built by Pomona-area rancher Louis Phillips, is shown.  Note that the 1889 Court House was moved just slightly northwest of the Rocha Adobe site and due west of where the courthouse was located in Temple's Market House, on which site the Bullard Block was built about 1890, between Market and Court streets at the right center.  The Bullard Block and Temple Block, to its north, sites are now where city hall is located and Main and Spring have been straightened.

In any case, the board quickly appointed replacements for the remaining couple of months before the upcoming election.  One for the sparsely populated northern reaches of the county in the Tejon Township, where Fort Tejon had recently been founded, was Samuel A. Bishop.  Bishop, a native of Virginia, was a Gold Rush '49er who became involved in Indian wars and the transfer of natives to a new reservation in the Tejon Sinks.  He acquired to Rancho Castac [Castaic] and also briefly had a ranch in the upper Owens Valley during the early 1860s, for which a new town, Bishop, was named in his honor.  He lived in San Jose until his death in 1893.

At El Monte, Elijah Bettis, who came from Missouri to the "American town" settled a few years earlier, became the justice of the peace.  He left the office later to become deputy sheriff to James Barton, who lost his reelection campaign to the board of supervisors, but won election returning him as sheriff.  When Barton gathered a small posse just a few weeks into his term to hunt bandits at San Juan Capistrano, he left Bettis in Los Angeles and then was massacred with his compatriots.   Bettis became sheriff and served until the term was up and was later water overseer for Los Angeles.

Russell Sackett, the appointee for Los Angeles township, outside the town limits, was from New York and was an attorney there before he came to California in the Gold Rush and wound up in Los Angeles.  He practiced law, was superintendent of public instruction, postmaster and a one-term member of the state assembly, in addition to being a JP.  He died in Los Angeles in 1875.

San Pedro township's appointed justice was Thomas Workman, whose family arrived in 1854 from Missouri to join Thomas' uncle, William, co-owner of Rancho La Puente in the eastern San Gabriel Valley.  Although only 24 years old Workman demonstrated administrative ability and was a valued employee, as chief clerk, of Phineas Banning and his growing mercantile empire at the harbor area.  Workman, who lost a run for county clerk in the early 1860s, died in the April 1863 explosion of the steamer Ada Hancock, owned by Banning.

At San Juan Capistrano, Irish-born Thomas J. Scully, accounted as the first teacher in what later became Orange County and who married into the prominent Yorba family, was appointed JP, while he was engaged in his teaching duties.  He later lived in Corona in what became Riverside County and died there in 1895.

Yet another justice of the peace vacancy opened up in late October, when Los Angeles township JP Alexander Gibson died and Thomas F. Swim was appointed in his stead.

In the 3 June minutes, there was mention made in the minutes to 21-year old William W. Jenkins as a deputy constable--meaning that, unlike constables, who were elected, Jenkins was appointed by the local justice of the peace.  Jenkins, whose mother and step-father Elizabeth and George Dalton (the latter's brother was Henry Dalton, owner of several San Gabriel Valley ranches), came to town earlier in the decade and joined, at age 18, the Los Angeles Rangers, when the organization was formed in 1853.

A little over a month later, Jenkins was given a writ of attachment for a $50 debt in a civil matter before justice of the peace Gibson to serve on Antonio Ruiz.  When Jenkins tried to seize a guitar to satisfy the write, a struggle broke out with Ruiz and his common-law wife, and Jenkins shot and killed Ruiz who grabbed the deputy constable from behind during the altercation.

In the aftermath, a group of Latinos and French residents of Los Angeles gathered on a hill above the jail where Jenkins was confirned, after initially being freed on his own recognizance without bail, and tensions rose to a point where a riot was feared.

Eventually, after Marshal William Getman was grazed by a bullet in a foray to determine the position of those on the hill, the situation calmed.  Jenkins was acquitted on a manslaughter charge as was alleged ringleader of the hilltop gathering, Fernando Carriaga, tried for intent to incite a riot.

Notably, the board suspended meetings for a time, almost certainly because of the state of emergency that gripped community leaders during the Jenkins-Ruiz incident.  Moreover, Sheriff David W. Alexander resigned, though whether it was because of the incident is not known--Alexander did relocate to a ranch at the base of the San Joaquin Valley where he remained for some years.  Charles Hale, a Los Angeles constable, was appointed to fill Alexander's position and Charles K. Baker became constable in Hale's place.  When Sheriff Barton decisively defeated Hale in the early November county election by a vote of 821 to 346, and was killed two months later, Baker and newly elected constable William H. Little were among the posse members gunned down along with him.  Notably, William W. Jenkins ran for constable in that election, but finished last among the six candidates.  If he had won, he surely would have been killed in the Barton massacre.

Another interesting result of the election took place in the mission town of San Gabriel.  Dr. William B. Osburn, whose name has been mentioned here several times, had moved there from Los Angeles and was elected a justice of the peace.  In the aftermath of the Barton killing, Osburn was accused of brutalizing the corpse of Miguel Soto, said to have been in the gang that murdered the sheriff, which was a double accusation, given that Osburn was a judge and a doctor.  One of the losing candidates for constable was Roy Bean, the younger brother of a militia general and saloon keeper, Joshua Bean, whose late 1852 murder led to the lynching of an innocent man.  Roy Bean later became the famed judge in Texas known as "the law west of the Pecos."

It appears that there was either no meeting of the board after 11 November or the minutes have vanished, but this takes us to 1857 and the Barton massacre.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rising in its indignation, El Clamor went on:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The editorial continued:

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Eight: The Trial and Execution of Luciano Tapia/Leonardo López

With the lynching of Juan Flores on 7 February 1857, the aftermath of the killings of Los Angeles County Sheriff James R. Barton and three members of his posse hunting the bandit gang led by Flores and Pancho Daniel reached its peak in terms of its activity, vengefulness and excess.

Most of the known bandits had been killed by posses of citizens in the Santa Ana Mountains near the Barton murders, at Ventura, and in Los Angeles.  Two main figures, however, remained at large, though both were captured in the San José region.

One of these was tried as Luciano Tapia, though he was commonly identified, including by one of the other members, Jesús Espinosa, as Leonardo López.  Tapia's trial for his role in the killing of San Juan Capistrano merchant George Pflugardt, whose murder led Barton and his posse to head out to find the killers, was held in mid-December 1857 and he was represented by public defender Kimball H. Dimmick, who was a veteran of the Mexican-American War, a signer of California's 1849 constitution, a member of the state legislature and former Los Angeles County district attorney.

The indictment against Tapia was presented by the Grand Jury on 14 December, and a venire (call) for jurors issued the following day.  The trial jurors secured (there being one Latino, Jesús López, among the 12 men seated), the case proceeded on the 16th with Dimmick filing a motion to continue the case to the next term of the court because he needed to procure the testimony of Rafael Martinez of San Luis Obispo, which was going to state that, in January, the month of the Barton massacre, Tapia was working for Martinez.  District Attorney Ezra Drown submitted an affidavit that this attempt to delay the trial was unfounded, because of the evidence ready to be presented at trial.

An interesting document from the case file (case 337 in the District Court records, now at the Huntington Library, where this material was researched some fifteen years ago) was submitted by District Court Judge Benjamin Hayes, who was presiding over the trial.  Hayes stated that "the motion for continuance in this case does not shew [show] that there is no other witness by whom the defendant can prove the same facts which, it is alleged, Rafael Martinez will testify to.  This omission I consider fatal in his affidavit."

Not only this, Hayes continued, but "nor does the affidavit state any definite and certain period within which he lived and worked in San Luis Obispo, but merely that he lived and worked there" in January and February.  Hayes went on to observe that "defendant may well have committed the crime with which he is charged, and have worked in San Luis Obispo, both in the month of January" and then overruled Dimmick's motion.

A summary of the trial of Luciano Tapia (a.k.a., Leonardo Lopez), Los Angeles Star, 19 December 1857.

A third affidavit was signed by six Latino men stating that they knew Tapia was in San Juan Capistrano in January 1857 and at the time of the crime.  The testimony of some of these men was taken on the day of the trial, starting on behest of the prosecution with Fernando Pérez, Pflugardt's partner, who stated, as recorded in the shorthand style of minute-taking:"Knew Geo Pflugard [sic] . . . saw him after he was dead . . . after he was dead I picked him up, he had three Ball wounds."

Pérez continued that he had been overtaken by some of the gang while riding towards San Juan Capistrano near the Coyotes rancho in what is today northwestern Orange County two days prior to the murder.  On the day of the killing, he went on, "those men arrive at dusk, those who robbed the house, knew them by sight and after the robbery learned their names, Juan Flores, Juan Catabo, Chino Barelas, one joined them afterwards, Francisco el Ardillero . . . saw at the time of their arrival the decd [deceased] at the door, the dcsd then ran into another room of the same house, then I saw them shoot three consecutive shots at him . . . I came to the door, and they pointed at me again and w/pistol, I made one step forward, and told them I surrendered and not to shoot."

Noting that the captain was Juan Flores, Pérez stated that Flores "asked me, if all that [merchandise] belonged to Pflugart . . . I told them that all that was there belonged to dcsd, then they commenced taking all that was there, and after they had taken all, went away. . . prisoner was one of the men robbing the store."

On questioning from the defense, Pérez replied that he and Pflugardt loaded guns "because they [the gang] had gone into the store of Don Miguel [Garcia] the night before."  He also noted that "prisoner was called Manila [Manilla], among them, it was a disguise used by them to avoid being discovered, I never knew prisoner as Luciano Tapia."

With the prosecution back for more questioning, Pérez added the detail that "after the shots were fired, it was an hour afterwards that I saw dcsd, he was in the back yard.  After they went away I went to look for Pflugart, and found him apparently as he had fallen in attempting to get away."

The next witness was Teodocio Yorba, who testified for the prosecution that "I have seen Prisoner at my house, at the time they had him Prisoner at my rancho, they said at the time that Juan Flores, Leonardo Lopez and Espinoza were there also."  Replying to a defense question, Yorba observed that "some Americans from the Monte had them in charge" also noting that a witness present at the trial, Pedro Rivera, and one of the jury, Alexander Nelson, was one of those in that group.

Yorba denied ever having seen Tapia before that time or since, because "they tied them [Tapia, Flores and Espinosa] prisoner when at my rancho and they escaped."

Next up was Felipe Jimenez, a servant of Pflugardt, who stated that he saw the body after death and that there were three bullet wounds.  He also recalled Tapia being near the tavern and store the day of the killing and then again the next day, wearing clothes "such as dcsd had in his store for sale."  Jimenez confirmed Pérez's testimony about meeting the bandits on the road towards San Juan before the killing, noting "there were nine on horseback, one riding double on the road, saw five in San Juan before the killing."

Notably, Jimenez testified after a defense query that "the night of the killing don't know what Prisoner was doing, he was on foot outside the house" and, when questioned by Judge Hayes on this, answered, "when Prisoner was 10 yds outside the house, the rest were robbing inside."

José Buelna testified next and, on questioning by the prosecution, stated that "[I] know Prisoner, a littel over year, going up the bank of the River of Los Angeles near my house, Santos was with him, who was killed at San Gabriel [again, this might be Miguel Soto, whose brutal slaying by Americans has been covered here]."  Buelna went on to say, "knew him again when they assaulted me . . . this was about 15 or 16 Jany 1857," several days before the Pflugardt murder and something not apparently known before the trial.  He went on to say that "after they assaulted me, they took the road for San Gabriel."

During cross-examination by the defense, Buelna added that "it was in the morning abuot 8 o'clock that I saw Prisoner, they staid [sic] about one hour, those who entered my house at night were not marked."

Henry Charles, another San Juan merchant, was sworn in and questioned by Drown.  He, however, said "Can't swear to identity of Prisoner, they were all in my store the day previous to killing, am near sighted, can't say positively as to Prisoner."  However, Charles did state that "after they had done it [killed Pflugardt], they came in front of Forster's house and said they could all the San Juan."  Charles also noted that "they robbed me and Miguel after robbing Pflugardt."

Manuel Avila of a long-time San Juan family said little in his testimony other than that, "[I] know Prisoner, saw him the first time in San Juan, month January, after death of Pflugart" and then three days later with Flores and others.  Avila concluded by noting that "Priosner was called at that time Leonardo Lopez."

Having been identified by Yorba as being in the American posse that captured and then lost Flores, Tapia and Espinosa, Alexander Nelson was called by the prosecution and testified that "[I] know nothing about the San Juan affair, saw Prisoner in a Cañada above Santa Ana, we were after the party."  Noting that Andrés Pico had originally discovered the three and then they were seized by the Americans, Nelson continued that "we took them and took thjem to Teodocio Yorba's, tied them, and they escaped."

Similarly, Pedro Rivera was called for his identification of Tapia at Yorba's ranch house.  He repeated Nelson's account, adding "we took them in the Plain, we galloped upon them and they jumped into a ravine and we took them."  On defense cross-examination, Rivera added, "Prisoner was the first who came out, and asked for a cigar and water, had no conversation with them more than related."  He stated that the place of capture was "about 2 leagues" or about 7 miles from Yorba's place.

With Rivera's testimony completed, the prosecution rested.  All the defense did was call Los Angeles marshal William Getman, then the Sheriff-elect [he would be killed just weeks into his term, on 7 January 1858, by a mentally-ill man].  Getman was sent to San Jose to bring the defendant back for trial and noted that "in San Jose Prisoner went by any name.  I called him Lopez, and he answered, but denied the name."  With this the defense rested.

The jury then retired and returned with a verdict, with foreman J.R. Evertsen of San Gabriel, reading to the court that Tapia was found guilty.  The following day, evidently set for sentencing, Dimmick failed to appear, leading Judge Hayes to send a summons requiring him to appear before the bench and demonstrate why he should not be held in contempt for his no-show.  On the 19th, then, Hayes formally sentenced Tapia to death, setting the date for 16 February 1858, at which time he would be hung with Thomas King, who was convicted of murder about two weeks before Tapia.

Tapia's remarks to the court at his sentencing, Los Angeles Star, 26 December 1857.

What was not in the case file, but what was reported in the 26 December issue of the Los Angeles Star during the sentencing was that Tapia was asked if he had anything to say prior to the pronouncement.  The paper reported that the prisoner had something of a lawyer in him, as he

replied that although a number of witnesses had been examined nothing was proved against him . . . they might hang him if they pelased, but the examination was illegal.  The witnesses had visited him, and then returned and gave their testimony.  That was not right.  They should have given their evidence and their description of him before seeing him . . . Mexicans have frequently been hung on the testimony of men who had never seen them before.  Men come and look at one in prison, and then go and swaer against him.  This has often occurred.  There is no testimony against me—no one has proved that I committed the murder, only that I was in the town at the time.  You may sentence if [you] please, but the testimony is not sufficient.

Hayes replied that Tapia received a full and fair trial, with appointed counsel and 12 men in the jury who rendered a verdict, to which Hayes added, he fully concurred (it should be noted that King also denied that he committed murder, but rather killed in self-defense).  As reported by the Star

Judge Hayes then addressed the prisoner, reminding him of the short time before him, and hoped that he would spend it as to secure repentance for the errors of his past life, and by the efficacy of his religion secure everlasting happiness.

After sentencing Tapia to death, the paper noted that "the prisoner was then removed.  He seemed very weak and was assisted in walking by two officers.  He is a tall man, and in full vigor must have been a formidable foe, and indeed his acts prove him to have been."  It was not explained how Tapia became so weak while in custody, but it can be imagined that the county jail was hardly conductive to maintaining health.

A portion of the coverage of the execution of Tapia and Thomas King, El Clamor Público, 20 February 1858.  Thanks for Paul Bryan Gray for providing microfilm of this paper.

On the day of the execution, the 20 February 1858 edition of El Clamor Público observed that Tapia was 22 years old "tall and well formed.  It seems he had received a good education.  Tapia possessed an iron constitution and carried well with little visible of the dangers and terrible difficulties he encountered."  Noting that Tapia denied a role in the Pflugardt murder when brought down from San Jose, the paper continued to discuss his and King's last moments.  They bathed, spent time with ministers, drank a little wine and then looked out the window of the jail at the gallows.  Here, "Tapia often remained motionles, looking with attention at the multitude attracted by morbid curiosity.  His attention was directed to the presence of soldiers, and he said these were the first he had seen in the country."  Tapia was then reported to have remarked to jailer Eli Smith, "who quick he [King] and I could run from here if we had a pair of rifles."

As they headed to the gallows, Tapia "mounted the stairs, apparently with a certain air of happiness."  After a moment seated on the platform, "after smoking a cigar, Tapia rose, and said some words to the effect that he forgave and hoped they would forfive him."  Then, Tapia said "I advise my compatriouts to leave this country, as this was no place to live as a man."  He then offered advise to the parents and mothers of this countrymen "to direct their children by the path of virtue and that they should take example by his death.  That he had been strayed by the evil counsels of bad men and that they should prevent the imitation" by their own children.  Finally, Tapia stated that "he also decalred that Incarnacion Garcia had sold him out in San Jose for the sum of a hundred dollars."

El Clamor reported that the jailyard was crowded with residents and the aforementioned soldiers, with citizen companies, including the Southern Rifles, the French company and the California Lancers present, including a new piece of artillery on display.

New sheriff James Thompson read the order of execution and his deputies William H. Peterson and Frank Baker tied the arms of the two men before placing the nooses over the necks and covering their faces.  At ten minutes to three in the afternoon, the paper continued, "the sign was given and their souls were launched into eternity."  The deed was done efficiently, "so that their deaths were instantaneous, and although for some moments convulsive movements were observed, they must have died the instant they fell."  After twenty minutes, the two bodies were cut down and placed into coffins ready and at hand.  While King's remains were taken to the county cemetery on Fort Moore Hill, "that of Tapia was delivered to friends who took charge of giving him burial."

Notably, the paper offered details of Tapia's origins, namely that he was from Mezquital del Oro in the Mexican state of Jalisco (though that town is in the far soutwestern corner of Zacatecas now) and that his parents lived in Amatitan, closer to Guadalajara.  El Clamor observed that Tapia worked in San Luis Obispo "when Flores passed through and he convinced to set out with him for Los Angeles.  Before this he was very industrious and honest.  When in jail, he frequently spoke of his mother and country."

Part of the reporting on the Tapia/King executions, Star, 20 February 1858.

The account of the execution by the Star was briefer and more was reported on King's last remarks than those of Tapia, whose advice to "Sonoranians," as the paper expressed it, was to "take warning by his fate—and to leave this country, as it was no place for them, adding that he was called on to suffer for crimes perpetrated by others."  Both men were described as "calm and collected," while also engaged "fervently in the sacred services" led by ministers.  The paper did, though, include a summary of remarks by Father Blas Raho of the Plaza Church and his exhorations in Spanish and English for "all to take warning by the awful example now before them."

This left one more "awful example" in the matter of the justice exacted on those involved in the Barton massacre--this being the subject of the next post.