Barton Massacre Podcast from KUCI Radio, Part Two

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

Barton Massacre Podcast from KUCI Radio, Part One

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eternity Street Lecture on Frontier Los Angeles Violence and Justice

This afternoon at the Homestead Museum in the City of Industry, Yale professor emeritus John Mack Faragher gave a stimulating presentation based on his new book Eternity Street: Violence and Justice in Frontier Los Angeles, published by W.W. Norton and Company.

With accompaniment from PowerPoint slides, Faragher began by noting that, whereas in Europe over the centuries homicide has dropped precipitously, there was a major spike in American homicide in more recent generations, though a noticeable decline has taken place since 1990.  He then moved to the local scene, stating that, after considerable research, he was able to document 468 homicides in Los Angeles between 1850 and 1875.

Courtesy of W. W. Norton and Company.

While this is a far cry from the claims of Horace Bell and Harris Newmark that there was a murder a day at a certain point in the early 1850s, Faragher reminded the audience that, per 100,000 residents, it was still extraordinary to have an average of, say, 20 homicides a year in a frontier town as small as Los Angeles.  This rate dwarfed most homicide rates in major areas of the United States and within California at the time and today.

Faragher then talked about something that has not received nearly as much attention (and that goes for this blogger's work, as well) when it comes to examining violence in society generally, much less that of Los Angeles during the 1850s through 1870s.

Much has been said about the preponderance of young men, free from tethers of home, imbued with copious amounts of alcohol, supplied with advance weapons of destruction (like the new Colt revolver, introduced in the late 1840s), surrounded with people of many other ethnicites and races, and unrestrained by a dysfunctional and poorly-supported government and criminal justice system.

However, what Faragher did in his book and explained in his talk was that the little-known effects of domestic violence have a connection to individual and larger-scale violence.  He reviewed some of the many cases in Los Angeles's civil court records that document spousal abuse from the Mexican era through the early American years.  While in some cases, judges granted divorce and other petitions from women abused by their husbands, a good many did not.

In one notable incident cited by Faragher, Phillip Rheim, a German known as Felipe Reim by Angelenos and who owned the Los Dos Amigos saloon, was particularly abusive to his wife, who finally secured a divorce by default when Rheim failed to appear in court.  Rheim then committed suicide by taking an overdose of laudanum, an opiod, with the suggestion being that the divorce pushed him over the edge.

Faragher proceeded to cover some of the more notorious incidents of vigilante activity in Los Angeles, from the first lynching to take place in the town in 1836 when Maria Rosario Villa de Feliz and her lover Gervasio Alipas killed her husband and then were hung by a committee of citizens, up through the horrific Chinese Massacre of 1871.  Faragher talked about a number of incidents, detailing the operations of vigilantes, and the responses by those in support of and opposed to mob law.

The one-hour talk held the rapt attention of about fifty audience members.

The presentation concluded after about an hour and there were plenty of questions from an audience that clearly was impressed by what they heard.  A reception was held on a warm winter afternoon and copies of Eternity Street were sold and signed.  This blogger picked up a copy and is raring to get reading tonight.  More on the book will be posted on this blog soon.

For those who did not get to see this talk at either the Huntington Library on Friday or the Homestead today, Faragher is giving his talk tomorrow at the Autry Museum at 11 a.m., so there'll still be time, for those interested, in watching the Super Bowl later.  He'll also be interviewed on Larry Mantle's Air Talk on KPCC 89.3 on Monday around 12:30 or so--check listings for that.  Finally, he'll be doing a talk and book signing at Vroman's Bookstore in Pasadena on Tuesday at 7 p.m.

The Barton Massacre of 1857, Part Four

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

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

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

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

Los Angeles Star, 31 January 1857.

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

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

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

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

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

El Clamor Público, 31 January 1857.

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

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

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

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

Los Angeles Star, 7 February 1857.

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

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

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

El Clamor Público, 7 February 1857.

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

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

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

Horace Bell: Reminiscences of a Ranger, Part Four

In his 1881 memoir, Reminiscences of a Ranger, Horace Bell opens his third chapter with an account of more lynching, starting with the February 1853 story of a man named Smith who "was arrested at San Gabriel, summarily tried by a hastily constituted lynch court, and sentenced to be hung instanter."  Bell went on to write that Smith was taken on a cart, driven to a nearby oak tree, where a rope was hung around his neck and slung onto one of the tree's branches and ready to meet his maker "when old Taylor, from the Monte, put in an appearance and interposed on behalf of Smith."

With this admonition, it was stated that constable Frank Baker (of whom we will hear more about in an upcoming post) took Smith into Los Angeles and confined the prisoner in jail.  Then, Bell continued, "the city lynch court thereupon held a meeting, at which a man decried the waste of tax monies for the administration of justice, though Bell said the unnamed individual was not on the assessment roll, which was the same for those most likely to agree with the speaker.

After it was suggested that Smith be tried by the tribunal and hung if guilty and freed if not, this same man led a group of "the ragtag and bobtail of the gambling fraterity" over to the jail (the same noted in an earlier post about the city's calabooses that had a single log running along the floor with staples to which prisoners were chained).

Bell went on to suggest that jailer George Whitehorn "made some show of resistance, but was soon overpowered" and Smith taken to another building under guard, while a tribunal was seated.  According to this account, "they proved nothing whatever against Smith," but another unnamed man moved that Smith be given fifty lashes at the Plaza and released.  When this was voted down, Charles Norris, a petty criminal of repute in town, moved that there be eighty-five lashes and that Smith be sent to Jurupa and a United States Army camp there as deserter.  This evidently was approved by the assemblage.

Then, Bell continued, "a Mexican who had severely cut a pie vendor with a knife" was brought in for consideration of the tribunal's attention and "a chilvalrously inclined gambler suggested that fifty lashes would be a sufficient punishment."  Consequently, those present voted to give him the same number as Smith.  After an Indan brought "an armful of stout willow switches," Bell stated that "the Mexican culprit dramatically came to the front and begged the privilege of being whipped first, saying that he was a man of honor, was no thief, had only used his knife when insulted, and he thought he was entitled to that much consideration."

This was, apparently, approved and the man tied to a post in front of the building, while "the Indian stepped forward with an air of intense satisfaction" to administer the whipping "to the great delight of the assembled patriots."  Taking his punishment with little show of feeling and getting dressed, the Mexican man evidently brandished a smile and a provided drink and stated, "Now I will have the pleasure of seeing this damned gringo whipped."

Bell claimed that Smith addressed the crowd, saying "Gentlemen, I am an American; and it is disgrace enough to be publicly whipped, but surely you will not have a gentleman whipped by an Injun" and requested a white man be appointed to apply the punishment.  Supposedly, a new arrival "from across the plains" agreed to accept $16 cobbled together by the spectators (gamblers) and laid on the switches as Smith took "an occasional pull at his flask . . . filled with brandy and gunpowder."  Some of the gamblers present did not like a white man doing the whipping for money and gave him a violent blanket toss.

This event was covered in the Los Angeles Star's edition of 12 February 1853, in which Smith's real name was said to be Isaac D. Martin and that he and a man only known as Williams were accused of stealing horses from El Monte.  A San Gabriel resident, Jesse Hildreth, was told by a lodger that Martin and Williams were in the area with the stolen animals and locals were alerted so that a trap was laid for the thieves.  While Williams managed to escape, Smith was captured at a nearby house and calls for his immediate execution were made "but a proposal to bring him into town prevailed."

While no mention was made of who convinced the crowd to take this course, Michael White, a long-time resident of the area near the Mission San Gabriel, recalled in an 1877 interview just four years before Bell's book was published that Martin (Smith) and Peter Williams worked for him for a time before going to El Monte, where they stole the horses.

According to White, it was Joseph Caddick who "caught Smith in the act, brought him with a rope around his neck to the mission, [and] threw the end of the rope over the limb of a tree."  White said there were about thirty men present as this was going on, including a lawyer who queried him on whether it was horse stealing warranted a hanging.  White reported that he pled for the mob to spare Martin's life and they agreed by taking him to Los Angeles, where "they gave him 39 lashes" and gave him 24 hours to leave town or he would be hung.  White also noted that Martin confessed his crime to Frank Baker while en route to Los Angeles.

The Star did report on "a lynch trial" held "by some persons in town" on Tuesday the 8th, and that "no one [was] appearing to oppose it very strenuously."  After there was the posting of some noticed, the paper stateed that "a small number of persons met" with the result that Martin "was sentenced to receive 78 lashes."

This punishment was inflicted the same afternoon, the account ended, "Smith [Martin] and a Mexican passing through the ordeal together."  There was no detail of the whippings provided, only a concluding note that "Smith has made tacks, and is now at liberty to resume his profession."  It should be added that the paper began the piece with:

Our citizens have suffered so severely in the loss of stock by thieves within the last year, that they are now extremely careful and vigilant and it requires an old hand to practice the horse-stealing profession to advantage.  Within the last ten days a party of Americans who have been following this nefarious business for a long time, have been effectually routed.

This statement is a reflection of the fact that, as the California Gold Rush brought hordes of treasure seekers to the coast, some of them, finding little success in the Sierra Nevada mining regions, drifted to towns and cities for easier ways to make money.  San Francisco had its vigilance committee in 1851, so many criminals steered clear of the City by the Bay.  Los Angeles, which had a very lucrative trade with the gold fields in fresh beef from its often-enormous and well-stocked cattle ranches, was an attractive target for thieves, who also had wide open spaces in all but the western direction for their escape.

Notably, there is a case file in the county court records, from 5 February, for a Justice Court hearing on a William Smith, charged with grand larceny on "Joseph M. Catrick" and Santiago Lobo for a stolen horse.    Moreover, Caddick, in July 1852, was charged in the Court of Sessions with an assault to murder James R. Barton, the future sheriff of the county and there was a co-defendant, the same Charles Norris Bell said motioned for Martin's punishment.  There was no disposition in that case, but there must have either been a dropping of the charge or an acquittal.  As for Norris, he was charged with the assault to murder of constables William Reider and Moses Searles and a man known only as Scofield in October 1851, but there is no known disposition in the matter.

So, again, Horace Bell's accounting of historical events may be filled with detail, including lengthy quotations recollected decades later, and based on some measure of corroborated fact, but there is much that either cannot be reconciled with other sources or appear to be enhancements for effect.

Horace Bell: Reminiscences of a Ranger, Part One

For those interested in the history of nineteenth-century Los Angeles, there are two autobiographies that are standard reading: that of merchant Harris Newmark, who arrived in the town in 1853, and the one written by Horace Bell, who predated Newmark by a matter of months, coming to town in 1852. The difference between the two is dramatic, however,

Newmark's book, Sixty Years in Southern California, published in 1913, is a collection of factual reminiscences laid out chronologically, offering relatively little commentary, and, frankly, lacking a sense of narrative and story.  Subsequently, many people use Newmark almost like a reference book, picking out the book when they want to learn more about a person or event.  He has been and will continue to be utilized here on this blog with great frequency.

Bell is an entirely different chronicler in his two works, Reminiscences of a Ranger (1881, reprinted in 1927) and On the Old West Coast, published in 1929 after his death.  While he liked to refer to himself as a "truthful historian," Bell was far more interested in telling rollicking, action-packed, character-based tales than laying out a series of facts.  Anyone with a good general understanding of the 1850s, which is the period in which Reminiscences largely takes place will be able to find many substantial errors and energetic exaggerations in Bell's text.

This is, in no way, a suggestion that Bell not be consulted.  His books are highly entertaining, but they need to be taken with a factual grain (or two or dozens) of salt.

A native of Indiana who came, as so many thousands did, to Gold Rush California in 1850 when he was barely out of his teens, Bell migrated south to Los Angeles in late 1852 where he had an uncle, Alexander Bell, a prominent merchant (though, strangely, Bell never refers to him as a relative in Reminscences when he talks about him at all.)

His detailing of the stage ride from the rudimentary harbor at San Pedro to the village of Los Angeles is the template for how the rest of Reminiscences is written.  The prose is lively, full of alleged, colorful quotes by the people Bell wrote about and replete with italics and exclamation points to hammer home the feeling about the wild frontier community that the author was determined to make as clear as possible.

While Bell delighted in talking about desperadoes, card sharks, immoral and unethical bigwigs, fallen women, gambling houses and other places of entertainment, and the like, he professed to have an aversion to discussing the horrors of extreme violence and the accompanying atmosphere surrounding much of Los Angeles' sordid criminal history, even as he often betrays himself by doing just that.  Still, he claimed that his purpose was to take more of a lighthearted approach, using comedy filled with irony and no small amount of critical commentary about events and persons.

Later an attorney and publisher of a relatively unknown weekly paper, accurately styled The Porcupine, Bell had an acidic, aggressive and confrontational style when it came to those contemporaries he did not like, while he could, on the other hand, be effusive, warm and highly complimentary of those he did.  Often the objects of his disdain went nameless in the text, except for some mocking sobriquet, such as "a most useful man" or "Old Horse Face."

When it came to criminal matters, Bell found himself arriving in Los Angeles just as a major event was taking place.  Joshua Bean, general of an Indian-fighting militia and owner of a San Gabriel salloon, was recently murdered and, the day after settling in, Bell found "a very small adobe house, with two rooms, in which sat in solemn conclave, a sub-committee of the great constituted criminal court of the city."  In other words, he stumbled upon a popular tribunal of citizens acting, ostensibly, in support of the legally-constituted courts in trying the matter of the men accused of killing Bean.

Bell, soon to join a militia of citizens formed to fight crime known as the Los Angeles Rangers (covered here in recent posts) and later a filibusterer with William Walker in Nicaragua, portrayed himself in Reminiscences as diametrically opposed to vigilantism.  In mocking tones, he reported upon the "very refined proces of questioning and cross-questioning" utilized in the tribunal and the way in which any contradictory statements made by a defendant who was "frightened so badly that he would hardly know one moment what he had said the moment previous" were considered "conclusive evidence of guilt."

It is interesting in this case to compare Bell's account with that of the sole newspaper in town, the weekly Star, and, in fact, the Bean murder will be covered here in more detail later.  For now, it is enough to say that the several men subject to the popular tribunal were, not surprisingly, found guilt and lynched.  While it was rumored that the legendary Joaquin Murrieta (or one of the several possible variations of him said to be roaming California) was directly involved in the Bean murder, Bell accepted his presence as an incontrovertible fact.

Having heard the substance of the trial, Bell departed and saved the hanging of the condemned men for a later, dramatic discussion, complete with a rainstorm, bursts of thunder and the like, and went on to talk about how Los Angeles "was certainly a nice looking place" in the midst of a Gold Rush windfall that enriched a great many ranchers and merchants in the small town through the lucrative cattle trade.

His tour on that second day in town, of course, included the more colorful establishments in town, including the many grog shops, gambling dens and other places of entertainment in and around the Calle de los Negros, known by Anglos as Nigger Alley, though the place was actually named for a dark-skinned Mexican who lived there in previous years.

This is where Bell made his famed, unsubstantiated, but generally accepted allegation that "the year '53 showed an average mortality from fights and assassinations of over one per day in Los Angeles."  He went on to say that "police statistics showed a greater number of murders in California than in all the United States besides, and a greater number in Los Angeles than in all of the rest of California" for the same year, though there is no citation, naturally, for the sources.

As noted here previously, there are other sources that suggest that the murder rate in Los Angeles was far lower and, almost certainly, far more accurate, but even at a few dozen documented murders in a given year, for a town of just several thousand, the rate is still astronomical.  What Bell doesn't discuss in any detail is just why the conditions were present for such a marked rate of murder in Gold Rush-era Los Angeles.

In any case, there is no question that crime and violence were mind-numbingly high in a community lacking monetary and material support for policing and court operations, abundant in young men from many ethnic and racial backgrounds and willing to fight out their differences in many kinds of circumstances, including those fueled by alcohol as well as prejudice, and awash in a sentiment that encouraged personal (or even group) justice over existing legal structures.

Bell's exaggerations serve the purpose of the dramatic storytelling that animated him, even if the grains of truth in his assertions need to be picked out and analyzed at a level of detail and corroboration he studiously avoided.  Still, his accounts are valuable because they are so rare and, again, because his style is so fun to read.

The next post takes us to his association with the Rangers and other tales of crime and violence in 1850s Los Angeles.

The Los Angeles Rangers in the Saddle, September 1853

Within a couple of months of its formation, the Los Angeles Rangers paramilitary group was receiving coverage in the Los Angeles Star newspaper for its actions in the field.

The 17 September 1853 edition of the paper noted that the previous Monday, the 12th, "the Rangers received notice that seven horses had been stolen from this vicinity."  Five of the organization's members, W.T.B. Sanford, H. Z. Wheeler, William Getman, John Branning and Cyrus Lyon "were detailed for the pursuit," under Sanford's leadership.  As noted here previously, Sanford would be a deputy sheriff and Getman both city marshal and sheriff, albeit for only days before his killing in January 1858.

The group rode north from Los Angeles and headed toward the Santa Clara Valley, passing through today's Santa Clarita via the San Fernando Pass and took "the old Santa Barbara road" (where today's State Route 126 heads west towards Ventura) to see if the thieves were in that direction, as reported.  They may, in fact, have been headed to the famed Rancho Camulos, just over the county line in Ventura County, but "they were overtaken by a vaquero, and informed that the thieves were discovered."

At that, two of the company ventured ahead and "without difficulty, secured one of them," while "the other succeeded in escaping, on foot, into the mustard."  Recovered were "two horses belonging to Don Julian Olivera."  With that, the quintet, after 2 1/2 days on the hunt, returned to Los Angeles by Wednesday night and "their prisoner is now in jail in this city. He is a Sonoreño, named Jesus Vega."

Sanford requested the paper offer his thanks to Vicente de la Osa and Juan Bautista Moreno "for their kind hospitality extended to the expedition."  It was reported, however, that "other rancheros demanded of the expedition the highest prices for the services they rendered."  Noting that the organization was a volunteer one doing its work without seeking payment or reward, the paper chided that "it would seem but a small think for those whose property is exposed, to freely supply the few necessities of this company."  Moreover, the Star observed that "every expedition which the Rangers have undertaken, has been successful" and that "the whole community are under obligations to them."

The article concluded by noting that "the recent expedition of Mr. Brevoort [another Ranger officer], for the arrest of the feloow supposed to be [an] accomplice with Vergara" had received due hospitality and support at the ranchos of La Puente, from William Workman, John Rowland and Rowland's son-in-law John Reed, and Chino, from Isaac Williams.

Manuel Vergara was killed near the Colorado River on suspicion of the murder of Los Angeles merchant David Porter in an ambush on the road to the harbor at San Pedro the prior month, but the alleged accomplice was not named and no further news was offered about the man, who was probably released.

As to Jesús Vega, the suspected horse thief, he was tried on grand larceny charges before the county Court of Sessions on 21 November 1853.  The value of the horses taken from Manuel Dominguez of the Rancho San Pedro, but the case file showed no disposition of the case.  There is also no listing of Vega as among the Los Angeles County prisoners who served time at San Quentin, so he either was convicted and served his time at the county jail, which seems unlikely, or was found not guilty.

This 17 September 1853 article from the Los Angeles Star details activities of the Los Angeles Rangers in the pursuit of suspected horse thieves northwest of the town.

There was one other incident around the same time involving the Rangers.  On 21 September 1853, a rape was attempted against Antonia Margarita Workman de Temple, daughter of the William Workman who extended hospitality to the Rangers in the Brevoort chase and wife of recent supervisor and Los Angeles city treasurer F.P.F. Temple, on the Rancho La Merced, in today's South El Monte area.

According to the Star's article on the 24th, Isidro Alvitre rode up to the Temple's adobe residence "and enquired for Mrs. T., who endeavored to deceive him by saying she was in the field.  He alighted, however, and seized her around the neck, making known his purpose."  When Mrs. Temple struggled, "she broke away from him and escaped into the field," where ranch employees met her and escorted her back to the house.  The paper continued that "she returned and found the foul fiend watching her; but on the approach of the men, he mounted his horse and rode off to his father's house."

The Star continued that, the following day, "a detachment of the rangers and many of our substantial citizens, went out to examine the case, and, if necesary, to inflict such punishment as would serve as a warning to all such men, disposed to violate the sanctity of domestic life."

A public meeting was then "called to order by Judge [Jonathan R.] Scott and Samuel Arbuckle, Esq. was appointed chairman, and Hon. S.C. Foster, Secretary."  Scott was an attorney and judge, Arbuckly was an attorney, and Foster was soon to be the mayor of Los Angeles and involved in one of the most notorious instances of vigilante justice in early 1855, a topic to be covered here soon.

David W. Alexander, a future two-term sheriff and Los Angeles Ranger, John Reed [mentioned above as a rancher at Rancho La Puente], and Andrés Pico, brother of the last governor of Mexican California, a Californio hero in the Mexican-American War, and frequent vigilante justice particpant, were appointed to find a jury of twelve men to hear the case against Alvitre.  It was reported that, upon being arrested, he refused "and offered to send his father or brother for him."

This popular tribunal proceeding's jury was composed of Sanford, Brevoort, Andrew Sublette, Geman, and Ozias Morgan, all active Rangers, as well as Scott, Juan María Sepulveda, H.S. Alanson, J. Minturn, John Brinkerhoff, John Aikin, John W. Shore.   When the examination was concluded, during which, evidently, Alvitre's defense was that he was drunk, the Jury naturally found Alvitre guilty and sentenced him to a staggering 250 lashes, a head cropping and that he "he leave the county as soon as his physicians pronounce him able to do so."  Moreover, if Alvitre was found to be back in the county "that he be hung."

The punishment was summarily inflicted, perhaps by a member of the Rangers, although there was no identification of who carried out the brutal whipping.  The paper observed that "many were in favor of hanging the prisoner on the spot, as he was a notoriously bad character."  The article continued that Alvitre "is represented as a man of low intellect, whose instincts have ever been the steal and to stab.  He is covered with scars, and must have been engaged in many desperate affrays.  He is known to all the rancheros as a great cattle thief."

Alvitre did survive the awful punishment inflicted upon him, but was said to have died the following year--likely from the terrible injuries he received.  He became the first of several members of the Alvitre family, which was of long standing in the area known as Old Mission or La Misión Vieja at Whittier Narrows, where the Mission San Gabriel was first located from 1771 to about early 1775 before it moved to its current location.  More on that family will be posted here, as well.

1850s Vigilantism in Los Angeles via Comedy Central's "Drunk History"

Click here for a pretty funny spoof from Comedy Central's "Drunk History" on violence and vigilantism in 1850s Los Angeles, complete with a naive, law-abiding Benjamin Hayes and a shoot-first, ask-questions-later Andrés Pico on polar opposites of the spectrum.

There are references to actual history, including the county and city jail that had a log across the room with staples attached for securing prisoners (though the log was probably slightly more finished than the rough example in the skit) and what appears to be a loosely-based reenactment of a February 1853 Washington's Birthday celebration at Abel Stearns' El Palacio adobe house, at which party crashers were shot and killed--though not by Don Andrés as shown.

The clip on the link is about 3 1/2 minutes after the obligatory ad, but is worth a look for anyone who has an interest in early Los Angeles and its struggles with crime and violence.