William Lewis Manly and Early Los Angeles Crime

The Death Valley '49ers were among the best-known migrants to California of the masses of gold seekers and others who came to the Pacific coast in the early stages of Gold Rush.  Among their number was William Lewis Manly, whose memoir, Death Valley in '49, first appeared in print in 1894.

The horrors of the trip across Death Valley are the focus of the work, but, for the purposes of this blog, the interest is more related to Manly's arrival in Los Angeles in early 1850, after surviving the ordeal in the desert and then a return visit a little more than two years later.

It was March 1850, when he straggled into town, noting that

the houses were only one story high and seemed built of mud of a gray color, the roofs flat, and the streets almost deserted . . . we could not see any way to make a living here.  There was no land cultivated and not a fence, nothing to require labor of any kind . . . in our walk about this city of mud we saw many things that seemed strange to us.  There were more women than men, and more children than grown-up people, while the dogs were plenty.

There was an explanation, of course, for the demographic oddities that Manly discerned, as "the majority of the male inhabitants of this town had gone to the mines, and this accounted for the unusual proportion of women."  Then, before winter set in, he continued, "we learned that they would return in November, and then the gambling houses would start up in full blast . . ."

Evidently Manly did not stay around long enough on his first visit to Los Angeles to find out what "full blast" in the gambling dens of town could often lead to, but on his return to the City of Angeles in summer 1852, he did.

First, though, he discovered that one of the members of his expedition had arrived in Los Angeles a couple of months ahead of him.  In January 1850, Lewis Granger came to the town and quickly disavowed any idea of heading for the mines.  Instead, he became part-owner of a boarding house, before deciding to follow the occupation he had before coming to California—being an attorney.

In fact, when Manly returned to Los Angeles, he stated: "[Jonathan R.] Scott and Granger were lawyers.  Granger was the same man who read the preamble and resolutions that were to govern our big train as we were about to start from Utah Lake [Salt Lake City].  Scott was quite a noted member of the bar . . ."

What attracted Manly's attention more, though, was the fact that

the country was overstocked with desperate and lawless renegades in Los Angeles, and from one to four dead men was about the number picked uyp in the streets each morning.  They were low class, and there was no investigation, simply a burial at public expense.

As discussed in this blog previously, the statement that there was about a murder a day in Los Angeles during the time Manly was talking about, or slightly afterward, was expressed in print by other memorists, including merchant Harris Newmark and Horace Bell, whose colorful and embellished recollections have been recounted here at some length.

Other sources indicate that, while the homicide rate was astronomically high by modern or even contemporary standards, there was nowhere near the level of violence recorded by these writers, who may have inflated their figures to further dramatize their recollections.

This 1843 drawing purports to show what "Mexican Gentlemen" looked like.  William Lewis Manly, in his 1894 memoir, lauded the honesty, benevolence, and charity of Californios.

In any case, it is interesting to read how Manly saw the ethnic mixture in Los Angeles, writing, "the permanent Spanish [that is, Californio] population seemed honest and benevolent, but there were many bad ones from Chile, Sonora, Mexico, Texas, Utah, and Europe, who seemed always on an errand of mischief, a murder, thieving, or robbery."

Manly also had kind words to say about the Californios because of the assistance he was given by them after his travails during his trip to the region, stating

I became well acquainted with many of these old California natives, and found them honest in their dealings, good to the needy, and in all my travels never found more willing hands to bestow upon relatives, friends, or strangers ready relief than I saw among these simple natives.

Many American and European writers of the era expressed outright hostility and racism towards Spanish-speakers in California, so it is notable to see Manly's views, even if "simple" could be construed as paternalistic, or merely as "salt of the earth".

Several months before the murder of Joshua Bean, a former Indian-fighting militia general turned saloon owner, in the mission town of San Gabriel, Manly related a different event related to popular justice in that community.

Evidently, there were four men observed near the mission and acting suspiciously, so based 

on this information the Vigilance Committee arrested the man [the other three apparently having escaped] in camp and brought him to a private room, where he was tried by twelve men, who found him guilty of horse stealing and sentenced [him] to be hung at once, for horse stealing was a capital offense in those days

It was true that, for a time, grand larceny could be punishable by death after a trial, but there was no such example found in Los Angeles County during the brief time the statute was in effect.  More likely, the Vigilance Committee [where a standing or an ad hoc one] was applying its own stautory standards.

Manly continued,

To carry out the sentence they procured a car, put a box on it for a seat, and with a rope around his neck and seated on the box, the condemned man was dragged off by hand to an oak tree not far away, whither he was followed by all the men, women, and children of the place, who were nearly all natives [Californios, probably].

After some of the unnamed man's friends were alerted to the situation, they arrived

to try to save his life.  They talked and inquired around a little and then proposed the question whether to hang him or to turn him over to the lawful authorities for regular trial.  This was put to a vote and it was decided to spare him now.  So the rope was taken off his neck, and he was turned over to Mr. [J.S.] Mallard, the mission justice of the peace, much to the relief of the fellow who saw death staring him in the face.

Manly's description of this narrowly-averted lynching is not found elsewhere and, obviously, cannot be corroborated.  If true, however, it is a rare example of a popular tribunal electing to rescind its own verdict and death sentence.

Also rare is to find first-person sources of life in early American-era Los Angeles and particularly that dealing with crime, violence and the administration of justice.  Manly's memoir is an interesting one on many grounds and well-worth including and considering in any accounting of these issues.

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.