This Picture's Thousand Words: The Los Angeles City and County Jail, ca. 1870s

A stereoscopic photograph taken by Henry T. Payne in the first part of the 1870s from a hill takes in a panoramic view of a growing Los Angeles.  The town was in the midst of its first significant boom, with the population rising from about 6,000 in the 1870 census to approximately 15,000 within five years.  The first railroads came to town during that period, as did streetcars, banks, the first high school, a public library and a host of other additions and innovations.

What had not changed was the condition of the city and county jail, which has been often discussed on this blog.  In 1853, the city and county purchased the Rocha Adobe, the former townhouse of the family that once owned the Rancho La Brea west of town, from pioneer merchant Jonathan Temple.  The house, a long, narrow structure fronting the west side of Spring Street south of Temple and north of First, became an all-purpose municipal building, housing city and county offices and the courthouse.

In 1854, in the expansive courtyard behind the adobe, a two-story jail was constructed.  The first floor was adobe and used as the city lockup, while the second story was constructed of brick and housed county prisoners.  Grand jury reports and newspaper articles in succeeding years generally alternated between noting unclean, unsanitary and unhealthful conditions in the facility and stating that the jail was in decent repair, working order and cleanliness.  It is possible that much of this was dependent on the good offices of the jailer.

The county courthouse moved in the early 1860s just a bit north on Spring Street to Jonathan Temple's Market House, a two-story brick structure topped by a cupola with a clock on it and which failed, during a poor economy, as a commercial building with leased market stalls.

This detail of a stereoscopic photograph taken by Henry T. Payne in the first half of the 1870s shows the Market House at the top left, which served as the county courthouse and city hall from 1861 to  the late 1880s.  At the lower right is the Rocha Adobe, the courthouse from 1853 to 1861 and in its courtyard, closer to where Payne took the image on a hill to the west, is the two-story city and county jail, used until the mid-1880s.  The street at the lower right was known as Court Street and Jail Street, until the name Franklin was bestowed on it--this was used by Payne in his titling.  Spring Street runs just above the Rocha Adobe and Main just past the Market House/Courthouse.

The jail, however, remained in its location in the courtyard of the Rocha Adobe, which became a police station house.  In 1863, a mass lynching of five men (three American/European and two Latino) took place on the front veranda of the adobe.  Eight years later, during the horrors of the Chinese Massacre of 24 October 1871, several Chinese men were being led towards the jail, or were alleged to have been, when they were diverted to a local corral, used for the lynching of Michel Lachenais the previous December, and hung there.

The structure remained as the city jail even as Los Angeles experienced its first significant period of growth during the late 1860s to mid 1870s.  Then, after almost a decade of stagnation from 1876-1886, a renewed boom, usually denoted as the Boom of the Eighties, ensued after the completion of the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe transcontinental railroad link directly to the city in 1885.

With the Rocha Adobe jail over thirty years old and woefully inadequate even in some of its earlier years, it was time for a change.  A new jail was constructed nearby and opened in late 1886.  The adobe remained for a time, serving as a commercial structure and a well-known image of the building shows a real estate and insurance business and a railroad ticket office in the adobe.

As for the photo, it was taken from that hillside location looking east.  At the far left is the Market House, which remained the county courthouse and city hall until new facilities were built in the late 1880s, during the great boom of that era.  Main Street runs left to right behind that building and Spring Street in front of it.  The clock read 11:45 a.m., probably a good time to get a photo while the sun was off to the right or south!

The Rocha Adobe is the long, low structure at the lower right with what, in the 1870s was known as Franklin Street coming down from Payne's vantage point to meet Spring Street just to the right of the adobe.  In the courtyard behind the adobe and closer to Payne, is the two-story jail.  A variety of smaller structures and lean-tos are in the yard, as well, which looks to be in a generally well-kept a condition.

This photo was taken at a time, as mentioned above, when Los Angeles was in transition from a relatively isolated frontier town to a small, but growing city.  The image reflects that, as newer brick structures and some wooden ones, as well, are in the mix along with adobe buildings.  There were few distinctions between residential and commercial areas at the time, though clearly the latter were becoming more predominant in this part of town.  This was because the area south of Temple Street, along Main and Spring, was becoming the commercial district of the city.

Payne, an Illinois native who came to Los Angeles from Santa Barbara in the late 1860s, bought the photo studio and inventory of William M. Godfrey and reissued many of Godfrey's photos under his name, as well as took a great many images through the 1870s.  He was a partner with Thomas Stanton for a period in the 1880s and later worked as a journalist in San Francisco, before returning to the Los Angeles area, dying in Glendale in the early 1930s in his eighties.

The Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors and Criminal Justice, 1853

The second group of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors, at work in 1852-53, dealt significantly with the matter of building a new city and county jail, but did so in the context of mounting problems dealing with the fragile financial fortunes of the county.

As noted before, the cadre of five, elected in fall 1852, was an entirely new slate from its predecessors and was a mixture of little-known citizens, like G.A. Sturgis and Daniel M. Thomas  and prominent members of Los Angeles society, namely Benjamin D. Wilson and David W. Alexander.

As their predecessors found, there were some substantial claims made on the county for services rendered by public officials dealing with criminal justice.  One of the first meetings of the new board included an allowance of $1500 as salary for district attorney Kimball H. Dimmick, later a federal district judge, as well as over $300 to jailer George D. Robinson and another $600 to Sheriff James R. Barton, San Gabriel constable J.D. Barker, whose work was probably connected with dealing with the sensational murder of merchant and militia general against southern California Indians, Joshua Bean, justices of the peace and former sheriff George T. Burrill and J. S. Mallard and others.  Expenditures of $2500 at one meeting of the board must have taken a significant part of the county's meager coffers, as will be noted below.

The flow of money continued the next day, with new jailor George W. Whitehorne submitting bills for nearly $200, another $100 from Barton and a smaller amount of money from others, including supervisor Sturgis, who was also serving as justice of the peace at San Gabriel, Burrill, and Dimmick.  At this meeting, Sheriff Barton was also asked to oversee repairs to the Court House, a rented adobe that was, seemingly, in perpetual need of significant work, when band-aid repairs were usually what could be afforded.

Financial matters came to a head on 1 December, when Whitehorne submitted bills totaling a little over $160 for jail services and was informed that there was a lack of funds and he would have to wait until funds were received before getting paid.  The county treasurer, Francis Mellus, reported to the council that there simply were no funds to cover expenses.

In the first meeting of 1853, held on 3 January, the requests for payment kept coming, totaling well over $700 with most of the money being for jail expenses (this proved to almost always be the case) and to Sheriff Barton for summoning juries and for constable William B. Osburn for attending the justice court of Burrill in Los Angeles.

Two days later, the contract executed with J.D. Hunter to build the jail was annulled with the reason given that it was "by an act of Providence he is now prevented from proceeding with it," though what the providential act was did not get recorded.  The minutes also stated "that the locality of said Jail is unsuitable & the plan on which it was to be built not conforming to the requirements of the Law."  It also would appear that, given the financial strictures noted above, there was not enough money to contemplate continuing with the jail project.

In fact, at the 5 January meeting, it was reported that the county's debt was nearing $50,000, a significant sum given the low revenue it received and treasurer Mellus stated that this condition "will not suffice to build a suitable Jail, the imperative necessity of which is felt by all the people of the County."

Consequently, the board voted to petition the state legislature to pass a law "authorizing said Board to levy a tax upon all real and personal property in this County not to exceed one dollar upon every one hundred dollars worth of such property for the purpose of building a Jail."  This, evidently, went nowhere.

More expenditures, almost in mind-numbing sameness, came in the following few months, most of this, again, being for the maintenance of the jail, but also substantially comprised of fees for constables, the sheriff, and other officers for their work.  The board issued a new order for allowing the jailor $5 a day for his services and $1 per day for wood and candles.  Matters were such that county clerk Wilson W. Jones requested, through the District Court, that an audit of accounts be done because he was owned a considerable sum (unstated) for his services.

Perhaps the financial problems of the county were too much for Leonardo Cota and Daniel M. Thomas, who resigned in early July, just a few months shy of the end of the term.  William Foster and James R. Waite were appointed to finish out the term.

David W. Alexander, left, with long-time friend and rancher William Workman, shown in 1851 in New York, was chair of the Los Angeles County Board of Supervisors in 1852-53 and later a sheriff in 1856 and 1876-77.  Courtesy of the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum.

At a meeting two days later, the board resolved that, "in view of the expense of the Rent of the building at present occupied as the Jail of Los Angeles County, [it is] ordered that the proprietor of said building be warned that the County will not continue to Rent said Building from him after the last day of this month."   The board ordered Sheriff Barton, who was the tax collector, to remit $70 from the first available funds and rent a new building, owned by F.I. Alvarado, for the jail, provided that Barton was "to repair the same as to make it suitable for that purpose," whatever "suitable" entailed.

The situation was such that, on 11 July, the board voted to slash the district attorney's salary in half from $1500 to $750, payable quarterly, while jailor's fees and those of the constables and sheriff continued to absorb most of the budget.

In early August, the board came to terms with prominent merchant Jonathan Temple to buy the Rocha Adobe, on the west side of Spring Street, for a court house and county offices, the price being $3160.  $1000 was apportioned immediately for repairs.  Further, the board "ordered that a County and City Jail be built on the Rocha lot aforesaid according to the law & specifications presented by S.C. Foster & filed with the Clerk and the said Foster and W.T.B. Sanford constitute a committee to contract for the materials and Building of said Jail."

The total cost of the jail was not to exceed $6000, with the city of Los Angeles having a 1/4 interest through a $1500 lien on the property.  The city jail was to occupy the first floor and the city and jailor were to share a room as an office.  Meanwhle, the city was granted the use of two rooms in the northeast corner of the Rocha Adobe for its use.  The city's total share of costs was to be $1500 up front and $1000 after a year.  The board also mandated that 10 cents on each 100 dollars of taxable property was to go to a contingent fund to aid in the purchase and building of county structures up to a maximum of $7000.

Foster would soon be mayor of Los Angeles during one of its frequent crime crises--this being the spate of murders in late 1854 that led to a notorious execution of Felipe Alvitre and lynching of Dave Brown in the first part of 1855, for which Foster helped lead the lynching after resigning as mayor.  He then was promptly reelected in the special election that followed!

Once the deals with Temple, Foster and Sanford were inked, a new issue came up as crime rose dramatically during the spring and early summer of 1853.  The supervisors, on 11 August, resolved that

whereas in the opinion of this Board, it is proper & necessary to aid the well directed efforts of certain citizens of this County, in their endeavour to preserve the public peace, and as the aforesaid Citizens have organized a Volunteer Company for that purpose, under command of A.W. Hope, [it is] ordered that, accounts for the expenses of maintaining horses & such reasonable acc[oun]ts for equipments &c to the amount of one thousand dollars & no farther under any consideration [was to be apportioned].

This was the county's official "seal of approval" for the Los Angeles Rangers, the best known of many militia groups that formed in Los Angeles over the first few decades of the American era and the one that was most successful in carrying out paramilitary operations in the area of criminal justice administration.

 A new board was seated in early October 1853 after the election of the month prior. More on this third edition of the Board of Supervisors in the next post.

This Picture's Thousand Words: Los Angeles from Fort Hill, ca. 1870

A circa 1870 photo by William M. Godfrey taken from Fort Moore Hill above New High Street looking southeast.  Click on it to see the image in a larger view in a separate window.  Courtesy of the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum, City of Industry.

This is a remarkable photograph, circa 1870 by William M. Godfrey, one of Los Angeles' first photographers, of part of the city looking southeast from Fort Moore Hill above New High Street, for a variety of reasons relarting to early criminal justice, or the lack thereof, in the town..

Number one is the gent standng on New High Street in the center foreground.  Dressed in a dark suit, white shirt, and light-colored hat, our subject is also carrying a shotgun in his hands.  This would seem to indicate that he was one of the handful of constables who patrolled the town.

The next item of interest takes us to the top center of the photo, where the conspicuous clock tower shows that the time was a little before 12:45 p.m. on whatever day Godfrey took the photo, or whatever day the clock stopped working prior to that!  The building which the tower surmounted was built as the city's market house in 1859 by merchant Jonathan Temple.

As earlier posts here have noted, the structure was leased to the city and county for public offices and the courthouse.  It served in this capacity until the late 1880s, when separate structures were built for the city hall and courthouse.  The "Old Courthouse" as it was sometimes known was torn down shortly afterward and replaced by the Blanchard Building.  In the last half of the 1920s, this area, known as the Temple Block, because of several buildings constructed by Jonathan Temple and his half-brother between 1857 and 1871, was redeveloped for the new city hall, completed in 1928.

Finally, there is the site behind the armed gentleman and the building next to him.  Fronting Temple Street is a white adobe wall and a two-part wooden gate with a crossbeam atop it.  This is the Tomlinson and Griffith lumberyard, located at the corner of New High and Temple streets, a bit of the latter is at the far right, where the ox-team is in view.

John J. Tomlinson was an early proprietor of a stagecoach line form the rudimentary port at San Pedro and a fierce rival of Phineas Banning, who, along with Banning, became a lumberman in 1860. Shortly afterward, his brother-in-law, John M. Griffith, came to Los Angeles and the two men became partners in both the stagecoaching and lumbering businesses until Tomlinson died in 1868.

Griffith then took on a new part, Santa Cruz lumber magnate Sedgwick J. Lynch, who was looking to expand his empire as Los Angeles began its first sustained growth period just around the time that Tomlinson died.  Griffith, Lynch and Company prospered as the city needed more lumber to accommodate the construction demands of the growing town.

Unfortunately, there was another unforeseen demand placed upon the lumberyard--the use of its gate and crossbeam as a convenient gallows for lynch (somewhat ironic given the name of one its partners) mobs to conduct their extralegal business.

According to prominent merchant Harris Newmark, a late 1863 lynching of Charles Wilkins (to be covered here in more depth later) took place

on Tomlinson & Griffith's corral gateway where nearly a dozen culprits had already forfeited their lives.

Given that Tomlinson, according to Newmark, had only embarked in the lumbering business three years prior, it is unclear how "nearly a dozen culprits" had been hung there, unless there had been a prior owner of the property.

Seven years later, at the end of 1870, Michel Lachenais, who had committed several homicides and been acquitted twice in Los Angeles courts, murdered his neighbor Jacob Bell over a property dispute (again, this case will be profiled here at a future time), and, as noted by Newmark

three hundred or more men . . . took Lachenais out [of the jail], dragged him along to the corral of Tomlinson & Griffith . . . and there summarily hanged him.

The Lachenais lynching has the distinction (if it can be so called) of being the only one that was photographed--also by Godfrey.  This photo has been published in many books and articles over the years and is easily one of the best-known images of a benighted "City of Angels."

Finally, there was the one event that constituted the biggest blot on Los Angeles in its early history and perhaps of all of its existence: the Chinese Massacre of October 24, 1871.  After an internal dispute among the small, but growing, Chinese community led to gunfire and the death of an American who interjected himself into the battle, a mob of perhaps 500 or so men stormed the Calle de los Negros east of the Plaza,where Los Angeles Street heads towards Alameda Street and lynched nineteen Chinese males, including a teenaged boy.  Once more, this event will be given a fuller treatment here, but among the locations where the horrors were perpetrated was, as Newmark again noted,

up Temple to New High street, where the familiar framework of the corral gates suggested its use as a gallows.

It appears that there was just one victim hung at the corral and there would have been more, except that Sheriff James Burns and citizens Robert Widney (accused by Horace Bell, another, more fanciful, chronicler of the time, of leading the Lachenais lynching--though this is not at all proven), Cameron Thom, the district attorney, and H.C. Austin assisted in saving at least one other man.

Fortunately, there were no more lynchings in the city after this and it was said that Griffith was so angered by what had happened that he ordered the gate and beam removed to prevent its further use by lawless mobs.

It is tempting to think that Godfrey set up this photo as some kind of reference to Los Angeles and its lawlessness.  Having an armed constable (if that's who the gent was), the Tomlinson & Griffith corral, and the county courthouse in view seems coincidental.  We'll never know, unless Godfrey left a diary that hasn't yet seen the light of day!

The Los Angeles County Courthouse, 1861

After being housed in a succession of aging adobe houses and after attempts to institute a bond issue failed twice with voters, Los Angeles County went back to a lease arrangement for another location for the county courthouse.

In 1859, prominent merchant and rancher Jonathan Temple, who had, several years earlier, sold the Rocha Adobe for use as a courthouse, constructed a commercial building called the Market House.  This two-story brick building was, apparently, modeled after Faneuil Hall in Boston, not far from where Temple was born and raised.  A deal in late January was reached by which the city would rent the building at 1 1/4% of its construction cost over a decade and that the city had an option to buy the structure at the end of that period.

On the last day of September, the common (city) council voted 4-2 to approve accepting the building as a commercial structure to be operated by the city, through an appointeed "market master," and rates were set for rentals.  In early November, Dr. John S. Griffin received approval to rent out the second floor as a theater--this was the first true theater built in the city.

An early view of the Market House, which became the Los Angeles County Courthouse on 1 May 1861.  Courtesy of the Workman and Temple Family Homestead Museum, City of Industry, California.  Click on any image to see them in enlarged views in separate windows.

The problem was that, by the time the building was completed, the county's economy was on a downturn, stemming from the decline of the Gold Rush, a national depression that erupted in 1857, the overstocking of cattle that were no longer commanding good prices in the market, and other factors.

Though the city then utilized the Market House for the leasing out of stalls for stores and other business enterprises, it was not very successful.  By the end of the year, the council approved the lowering of rent for stalls.  Early in 1860, Mayor Damien Marchessault was calling for the issuing of bonds so that the city could buy the building.

Meantime, the county looked for a solution to the courthouse problem by appointing a special committee on 9 February 1860, pursuant to a judicial order to find better quarters.  In June, the Common Council and the supervisors worked out an arrangement to turn the Rocha Adobe courthouse space into a police station house.  On 10 January 1861, the supervisors voted to seek yet another courthouse bond issue to present to the voters.

However, at the same time, the common council proposed renting the Market House to the county  In the 26 January 1861 edition of the Los Angeles Star it was reported that "our city authorities are proposing to the Board of Suervisors for the county to take the market house for county purposes, for courts, offices, etc."  The paper seemed enthusiastic about this proposal, noting that "we should be glad to see some plan adopted to help the city, as it is now losing $153 per month on the building," meaning the adobe of former mayor John G. Nichols, being used for the court house.

The Los Angeles Star, 16 February 1861, editorialized on the need for a new courthouse and that the failing city market in Jonathan Temple's Market House was an idea solution.

On 16 February, the Star editorialized that "we are in want of a county Courthouse, with offices for the various departments  of the public service, a county jail, &c.  We have a City Market, which we do not require, and which can be very easily converted into suitable rooms for all public purposes."

The paper also observed that the proposed $20,000 bond issue, but stated that the renting of the Market House was a better financial decision and asked rhetorically, "Do our citizens think, in our present embarrassed condition" that it was better to go that route, rather than have a bond issue with interest as debt to pay in future years?

Moreover, it was stated that, at the conclusion of ten-year lease, the county could have the option of buying the building and at a price one-half of the original cost of construction.  The paper asked another pair of rhetorical questions: "Are not both city and county drifting pretty rapidly into bankruptcy?  Shall nothing be done to stay this downward course, or shall $30,000 be added to the present burdens?"

Two days later, on the 18th, the Board of Supervisors formed a committee to explore the possibility of renting the Market House from the city, which had its own committee to work with its county counterpart.  On 4 March, the supervisors voted to lease the ground floor from the city at $200 per month, with the city agreeing to install the necessary partitions for conversion.  The agreement would take effect when the current lease with Nichols expired at the end of April.

The 9 March 1861 issue of the Star reported that the county Board of Suepervisors "have resolved to lease the City Market for the use of the Courts and County Offices."

On 1 May 1861, the new agreement officially began and the county moved into the Market House, including the courts.  The Nichols building was then turned over to a new citizens' militia: the Los Angeles Grays.

Things did go all that smoothly at the outset--on the 1st of July it was noted that neither the District Attorney nor the County Judge had an office in the Market House, so it was ordered that a new one be established between the supervisors' meeting room and the stairs to the second floor for both judicial officials to use.

At least, though, there was finally a structure that was a significant improvement for the operation of the courts and, pardon the pun, had at least the appearance of the proverbial "temple of justice" that a courthouse was typically thought to embody.

The Market House would remain the county courthouse for nearly thirty years, though there was the matter of purchasing the structure that became the next major milestone--more on that to come.

The Los Angeles County Courthouse, 1860-1861

After some seven years in the Rocha Adobe, during which the editorials of 1856 and 1859 decrying the condition of the building were penned, the Los Angeles County Courthouse became the subject of further criticism in 1860.

An article in the 25 February edition of the Los Angeles Star, for example, pointed out that

at the assembling of the County Court yesterday, it was moved by J.R. Scott, Esq. and concurred in by the District Attorney (Edward J.C. Kewen) and other members of the bar, that the Court adjourn, for the reason that the building occupied as the court room is so wholly out of repairs to render it not only unsafe, but exceedingly dangerous, to continue the session therein.

The county Board of Supervisors had, at its meeting on the 9th, appointed a committee of Gabriel Allen, Antonio Franco Coronel and Casildo Aguilar to work with Sheriff Tomás Sánchez to find other quarters.  The urgency became more market, however, when the Star observed that

a part of the roof has fallen in, and the timbers the support the balance of the roof are so worm-eaten that Judge Scott [who was 6 feet 4 inches tall, making him, like Abraham Lincoln, who was the same height, a veritable giant at the time], in illustration of the insecurity of the room, crushed a large handful of them as if they were straw.

Given this, the paper sanguinely suggested that, "it is high time that something was done to secure a decent place for the meeting of the Courts."

The 25 February 1860 issue of the Los Angeles Star contained this short article noting the deplorable condition of the Rocha Adobe as the county court house, including the fact that attorney Jonathan R. Scott, who was a toweing 6'4", could crush ceiling timbers with his hand because of termite damage!

A few weeks later, on 10 March, the latest report of the county Grand Jury was published in the Star, including the admonition that the court house and offices for the sheriff and county clerk

is wholly unsuitable for that purpose.  In fact, the old adobe walls, almost roofless . . . are so completely dilapidated as to render them not only insecure for such purposes, but exceedingly dangerous.

Consequently, by court order, the paper went on

the Sheriff has fitted up a brick building on Main street, which promises to answer the temporary purposes of a court room and offices of the Court.  This arrangement, however, can only be temporary, and is necessarily attended with considerable expense, and inasumuch as a Court House is essential to the administration of the law and the requirements of justice . . . the construction of a suitable building for the purpose would be in accordance with the true principle of economy.

The Grand Jury suggested yet another statute from the state legislature authorizing a ballot measure for a tax levy for $25-30,000 for the building of a new courthouse.  Of course, the previous attempts in 1858 and 1859 for voter approval led to defeats--the latter was particularly overwhelming in the negative with the Board of Supervisors reporting a different result than the papers: 1,766 against and only 162 in favor.

Still, the new home was deemed superior than the Rocha Adobe as the Star observed: "the new court house prepared by the Sheriff, in the Nichols building, has been used since the middle of the week by the Court of Sessions, and gives much satisfaction."  The paper lamented the fact the "the county has not had these improvements placed upon its own property" at the Rocha Adobe.

In fact, the next session of the Grand Jury in early July, according to the 14 July issue of the Star "would strenuously recommend that some means be devised to repair the same, so that it can again be occupied, and thereby save the county the burden of paying rent on other property."

The new quarters consisted of a one-story brick structure erected by former mayor John G. Nichols, who was the subject of a criminal case earlier in the 1850s concerning his alleged profiteering from the use of prisoners for public labor.  Nichols' structure was on the west side of Main Street between Temple and First.  In August 1860, the Board of Supervisors authorized payment to Nichols of $750 for six months' rent on the building.

This excerpt of a Los Angeles County Grand Jury report, printed in the Star's 24 November 1860 edition, called for the building of a new courthouse or "judicious repairs upon the old one" at the Rocha Adobe, which was still owned by the county and being used as a police station house.

In November, however, the Grand Jury had more criticism concerning the leasing of court house facilities in its latest report.  In the 24 November issue of the Star, the jury reported, "the large amount now paid as rent for bulidings for county purposes is suggestive of the necesity of preventing, as soon as possible, this heavy outlay and demand upon our already exhausted treasury."  Deeming the Nichols Building to be "indifferently suited for the purposes required," the jury suggested "the propriety of taking proper steps for the building of a new Court House or the making of judicious repairs upon the old one."  It also stated that it was "urgently necessary for the proper preservation . . . of the county files and records" to secure new furniture for the county clerk.

However, the arrangement to rent the Nichols Building continued until May 1861 when another location, virtually next door, was found for lease.  This will be the subject of the next post.

The Los Angeles County Courthouse, December 1859

Within a few months of the 1856 article in the Los Angeles Star comically lambasting the state of the county courthouse, located in the Rocha Adobe, the California legislature approved the concept of a tax levy on county property holders amounting to 1/2 of 1% of taxable property for the purpose of building a dedicated facility for court operations.  This announcement in April 1857, however, was subject to approval by voters at the county elections and was not followed by any action by local officials to place the issue on the ballot.

The 13 February 1858 edition of the Spanish-language newspaper El Clamor Público disucssed the situation regarding the inadequate building serving as the Los Angeles County Courthouse.

Nearly another year went by before the Spanish-language newspaper, El Clamor Publico, put out an editorial on the existing structure.  In its 13 February 1858 edition, the paper observed the structure's "worm-eaten ceiling: and general deterioration.  Its poor proportions in terms of interior layout and appearance on the exterior warranted the opinion that "the jail is a much better building than this."

Nothing that there was a movement to find a way to build a new court house, the paper criticized the fact the county Board of Supervisors had not acted to put the tax levy proposal to voters and reminded readers that "a notice we published in our previous number, we recommended that they try to secure a new law from the legislature authorizing a loan with this object."

El Clamor Publico concluded that "it is therefore evident that a building for the diverse offices of the county is an indispensable need and we expect our representatives to do everything possible to obtain the approval of a law as we recommended to them."

A portion of an article from the Los Angeles Star, 31 December 1859, discussing an order of District Court  Judge Benjamin I. Hayes to Sheriff Tomás Sánchez to locate new quarters for the Los Angeles County Courthouse.

Sure enough, this was achieved, as the legislature passed another statute in Aujgust 1858 permitting county officials to seek a $25,000 loan, in the form of a bond, rather than a tax levy, for the funds to build a courthouse.  At the county elections held a few weeks later, however, the proposal was narrowly defeated 236-194.

Undaunted, county officials pressed for another attempt in 1859 and the legislature duly followed up with a new statute authorizing voter approval for the courthouse levy.  The sour economy, stung by the national depression that broke out in 1857 as well as the lingering effects of the decline of the Gold Rush during the last few years, brought out a very different mentality from voters.  The September elections saw the court house bond vote deafeated by a resounding 953-32!

Another tack was then taken.  District Court Judge Benjamin Hayes issued an order at the end of the year, as reported in the 31 December 1859 edition of the Star.  Hayes noted that the courtroom in which he presided "is altogether unfit . . . by reason of its want of the proper accomodations for its officers and juries, and the general dilapidation of the house" and observed that the Sheriff had "failed to procue a suitable room, under the previous oder of this Court, for want of sufficient time," 

Consequently, Hayes went on, "it is therefore ordered by the Court, that the Sheriff of Los Angeles county do procure a suitable room in which to hold the session of this Court, and that he also procure a proper jury room, and a room for the Judge's chambers" with the furnishings, fuel, lights and stationery needed for court operations.

In an accompanying editorial, the Star reported that, "the Court house, it is true, is in a dilapidated condition, and when the order was made a stream of water was pouring down each side of the Judge of the Bench."  The paper stated that finding another existing structure for the courthouse "will cost the county probably five or six thousand dollars, and in the present embarrased state of the county finances, this is a very heavy addition to the already overburdened tax-payers."  Clearly, though, it was vital that a new location be found.

The conclusion of the Star article discussing how to deal with Los Angeles County's fiscal doldrums, including the great expense of dealing with criminal cases in the courts.

The Star then offered its views on why the county was in so much debt and led voters to overwhelmingly reject a bond issue to build a new courthouse:  "the answer is to be found in the heavy criminal business of the county . . .  crime must be punished, and that punishment entails enormous expense on the county."

Specifically at issue, according to the paper, was that "it is needless to say that the fees of officers swallow up the income of the county."  Salaries, as set by state statute, were generally pretty low for officeholders, but there was a fee system, in which these officers were paid piecemeal for the filing of various process of service, from arrest warrants to subpoenas to the clerk's writing (by hand, of course) the many documents that were part of court operations.

The Star felt that many of these fees were legitimate, such as in the case of the Sheriff who, for "all extra exertions he may make for the capture of ciminals must be paid out of his own pocket" and then reimbursed by submission to the county for his fees.  The county clerk, too, "is often in attendance on the court a week at a time, besides the labor of making up papers in office hours and after office hours."

The paper reserved particular scorn for the District Attorney, though, noting that this official was allotted an extraordinary salary of $10,000 a year, but "has no duties which . . . should entitle him to a recompnese greater than that of the highest Cabinet officer of the Union."  It was observed that the D.A. was not allowed by state law to charge fees."

Another major factor simply was "from the decrease of the property of the county" during the current economic downturn, "where . . . there were droves of cattle taxable for county purposes there are now but waste and unproductive laws."  Given that revnue was derived from taxable property, but the county was in a seriously depressed state of affairs, the only perceivable result, according to the Star was "a general bankruptcy, or repudiation must ensue."

Cutting back on expenses was one approach to consider, but, "with our criminal docket, and the present system of conducting trials, we see no probability of improvement" other than to "let criminal cases be at once disposed of, and the county be relieved from the enormous burden of officers, witnesses, jurors being required to be in attendance time and again fruitlessly."  To the paper, "this alone would prove a considerable saving to the county."

Obviously, this was not going to happen and, even though the economy continue to worsen in the early years of the 1860s in ways the Star and others in Los Angeles could not imagine at the onset of that decade, there was a solution to the matter of the courthouse.

This will be discussed in the next post.

The Los Angeles County Courthouse, November 1856

There were several Los Angeles County courthouses in the first dozen years or so of the American era.  For a few months after the formation of the county in 1850, the adobe house of longtime merchant Abel Stearns, called El Palacio, was used.  The large one-story structure sat on the east side of Main Street and later was razed by Stearns' widow, Arcadia Bandini, and her second husband Robert Baker for the construction of the ornate Arcadia Block.  The site is now where Main crosses the 101 Freeway.

Then, the county contracted with another prominent American, Benjamin D. Wilson and his partner Albert Packard, to use a portion of the Bella Union Hotel, also on Main Street, but a bit south of El Palacio, for court uses.  The hotel served in this function from Summer 1850 to early in 1852.

From there, the courthouse relocated to the adobe house of Benjamin Hayes, who was a city attorney and, for a dozen years, the District Court judge.  From early January 1852 to November 1853, the courthouse actually functioned in the former home of one of its own judges.

The county had explored the idea of building its own courthouse and would do so for years to come, but the only feasible financial option was to acquire another adobe building.  The Rocha Adobe was acquired from yet another prominent American, merchant Jonathan Temple, in August 1853 for just over $3,000.

The Rocha Adobe, situated on the west side of Spring Street, between Temple and First streets, needed some work, so the county budgeted $1,000 for repairs and renovations.  It was also decided to construct a new county and city jail in the courtyard of the adobe, but more on that in a subsequent post.

Despite the moderate improvements to the adobe, the deplorable condition of the building sometimes elicited comment in the press.  None of these was more pungent and potent than an editorial in the Los Angeles Star, dated 29 November 1856.  Likely the piece was penned by the paper's colorful editor, Henry Hamilton, though there is no way to know for sure.  In any case, this jeremiad is worth some attention.

The article began by asking "who was the architect . . . or in what age it was built."  After mockingly observing that the structure bore "marks of genius," he went on to say that "no other man than the projector could have succeeded in placing his victims in positions ensuring them such torture, as the judges, jurors, lawyers and officers must endure, condemned to long sessions in this terrestrial purgatory."

The first paragraph of a Los Angeles Star editorial concerning the decrepit condition of the county courthouse, 29 November 1856.

The court room was denoted as a "hog-pen" in the form of a "compressed parallelogram . . . with the smallest possible modicum of breadth."  In the northern portion, there was "a crib . . . in which the Judge is condemned to ruminate, chewing the cud of bitter fancy."  It was suggested that a judge would be so bitter to toil from that locale that "God help the poor sufferer who is condemned from that box—the verdict of a jury is bad enough, but when it comes, double-distilled, from that judgment-seat, the acrimony of misanthropy must, unwittingly, mix itself up with the gall of defeat."

After expressing the hope that a judge may someday have quarters befitting the name of a true courthouse, instead of an "augean stable," the piece continued that the bench was so cramped that "if he shifts his position, his heels must go up and his head down" and that "set him right side up . . . [and] nothing can be seen but the tip of his nose, or two keen eyes."

In sympathy, the editorial lamented, "Alas, poor judge, often have we silently sympathized with you, in your solitary cell."

Yet, it appears the judge had it fairly easy compared to the gentlement of the jury, according to the piece.

But the jury box, Gracious powers!  The man who constructed the "iron cage," was tender-hearted as a woman, in comparison with the projector of this device of Satan.  The builder must have been fresh from the culprit's doom—a verdict of guilty,  That's certain.

In fact, the article went on, those who concocted the concept of the jury box "should be, in the first place, convicted under the statute against cruelty to animals" and then sentenced to "occupy the same position for double the length of time [as jury service]—if they survive that, they should be excused from jury duty for the remainder of their natural lives."

As for the clerk, his space was "in a cage just big enough for one side of his record book—the other half has to trespass on his neighbor's grounds."  There was no discernible means of entering and exiting, evidently, and the author asked "why a clerk of a court, who is supposed to require, and usually has ceded to him, considerable space for his books and papers, should be thus cooped up, no one but the renowned architect of this building could conceive."

The end of the mocking jeremiad about the deplorable state of the Rocha Adobe.

All paled, however, in comprison to "the accomodations for the Bar—the caps the climax."  The space for attorneys "is an immense four-by-nine area.  It can accomodate one man and a chair at a time. If you put in a second man, you must take out the chair."  A table was considered a luxurious item, so an attorney "may write on the crown of his hat, if it be a stovepipe—if not, he must borrow one or do without writing."  Consultations between clients and their counsel had to take place outside the structure.

Finally, there was the matter of cleanliness, or the lack thereof, according to the writer of the tirade.  Aside from the "cribbed, cabined and confined dimensions of the room, is to be considered the quantity of dust and filth . . . which no amount of sweeping or cleansing can keep away."  With all of this in mind, the editorial concluded

we cannot sufficiently admire the ingenuity of the builder in the construction of such a house for such a purpose, nor the patience of the public—judges, jurors, and lawyers, who quietly submit to the infliction.

Whether there was a good deal of exaggeration or not in this piece, the Rocha Adobe continued as the courthouse for a few more years and this will be the subject of the next post.